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[glossysoap]

ready to comply - prologue

warnings: canon typical violence, injuries, weapons, switching povs between your thoughts and the boys’ thoughts. appearance of a major marvel character, you’ll know when you read it.

note: russian will be written in bolded italics. eng translation for russian sentences will be written in non bolded italics directly after said russian sentence. simon/johnny will be used interchangeably with ghost/soap.

inclusivity note: no mention of flushing or hair type. the woman can drag you/lift you because she has super serum, so you can imagine any body type for the reader.

up to date masterlist here!

ex: пример. example.

word count: 3,092

The 141 was on a mission in Moscow, Russia in the dead of winter. The battlefield was covered in a thick blanket of snow as flurries fell from the sky.

The rest of 141 was raiding a nearby warehouse for supplies and intel while you, their head surgeon, was waiting in the medical tent with a few residents and scrub nurses to assist you in any emergency surgeries that may arise.

Betadine, rubbing alcohol, suture kits, needles, gauze pads, bandages, forceps, ambu-bags, defibrillators. Pulse oximeters, intubation kits, casts, IV bags.

You made a mental tally of all of the supplies you had as you sifted through them. Bins were arranged on a large folding table in the middle of the tent, every bin allocated to each type of item. All suture kits in one bin, all gauze pads in another, and so on. You prided yourself in having an efficient, organized system that made triaging simple and less overwhelming.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a sharp gust of wind blew into the tent.

Your arms and back prickled with goosebumps as a shiver racked through your body at the sudden temperature change. You thought you had bundled up appropriately for the weather but the task force wasn’t expecting such a harsh blizzard.

You turned to look at who unzipped the tent to see Johnny bustling in, dragging Simon behind him. A grin pulled at your lips at the sight of your two best friends.

Both of them were covered in snow, down to their clothes and tactical gear. Johnny's usually tan cheeks were flushed pink from the biting cold and his mohawk was dusted with snowflakes. You’d bet that if Simon didn’t have his mask on, his face would probably be red too.

“What brings you in, boys?” You ask, eyes surveying both of their forms for injuries. As they bounded to the beds closest to you, you could see crimson staining Johnny's shoulder and Simon's wrist.

“Got some grazes-” “Dinnae fash about it, Doc!” Johnny interrupts Simon with a cheeky smile, sending you a wink with his baby blues.

“English, Mactavish.” Simon grunted, yet not sounding the slightest bit bothered. You and Simon shared a look before rolling your eyes at Johnny's antics.

“Don’t worry about it, Doc.” The corners of your lips quirked up in an amused grin at the Scots’ translation.

“Yeah? I’ll be the judge of that. Sit, you two.” You ordered, nodding to some medical beds.

They chose to sit on the same bed you were standing in front of, one of them sitting on either side of you. Caging you in between their two big, broad forms. Johnny was sitting to your right and Simon to your left, both of them already removing a layer of gear for you to be able to patch them up.

When the two men were so close to you, you were suddenly reminded of their broad shoulders and towering height. They weren’t that much shorter than you even as they sat down on the bed.

You tried to ignore the way Simon's hand brushed your left arm and Soap’s hand grazed your right arm. You also tried to ignore the warmth that bubbled in your stomach and how your heart fluttered at even the smallest amount of contact from them.

Sometimes you found yourself forgetting that Simon and Johnny were already together because of all the attention and affection they give you. Inevitably though, a pit opens back up in the bottom of your stomach when you catch them looking at each other with that look that they reserved for the other man.

As you began treating their injuries, their touching only escalated. When you were treating Simon's injury, he had taken to holding your left forearm and rubbing slow circles into your skin as you patched his injury up with your other hand.

Johnny wasn’t much better, ever the overly affectionate one. You needed to be closer to Johnny due to the location of his injury so you leaned a bit closer to him. You let out a surprised yelp as the Scot pulled you in even closer so you were almost sitting in his lap — and you could’ve sworn that sparing a glance down at his thick thighs for a split second gave you heart palpitations.

If that wasn’t bad enough, his warm hand rested on the small of your back to keep you close and secure in his grip. Like Simon, he was also tracing small circles with his thumb. After testing the waters, Johnny began to slip his hand up the back of your top, resting it on the small of your back again — this time against your bare skin. You knew he ran hot but you never felt it so up close and personal. The almost burning warmth of his palm against your skin was a pleasant contrast from the freezing cold.

Your heartbeat was thrumming in your ears at the feeling of Johnny's rough, callused yet gentle hands. As he put more pressure on the small of your back to pull you closer, a tingle ran down your spine. You gulped.

This entire time that you were stitching up Johnny's grazed shoulder, you could feel his cerulean eyes burning into you. Searching your face for any reaction, committing every detail to memory — down to your long lashes fluttering against your cheek when you blinked and how you took your bottom lip between your teeth when you were concentrating.

You could feel Simon's honeyed brown eyes on you but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Johnny's wound to see for yourself.

Simon's intense eyes were drinking you in. Every fucking inch he could get his eyes on. Starting at your nimble, working fingers stitching up his lover’s shoulder with such care and attention. Then going to your bare, exposed neck that was on full display given that your hair was put up and out of your face. As he stared at the expanse of your neck and the throbbing pulse point at your jugular, it took all of his strength not to jump up from the bed right then and there and claim you. He could only picture your neck littered with teeth mark indentations, the exact same way Johnny's back is.

Meanwhile, every single lingering touch and burning gaze only made you more conflicted. Every single touch made the pit in the bottom of your stomach worsen. You could only relish in their kindness and casual touches for so long before it chipped away at you. It’s not even that you were jealous of either of them, far from it. They deserved each other. They completed each other. You just wanted to be let out of it, to be spared from all the attention.

Suddenly, two of your residents peeked their heads into the medical tent to yell for you. “Doc, you’re needed out here!” You let out a sigh of relief at the much needed opportunity to get away from the two brute men.

Sparing a brief glance at the men, you handed them off to another doctor that could handle the rest, “He’ll take care of you two from here.”

As you walked to hand the other doctor their medical files, you didn’t see Soap’s longing glance your direction and the way Ghost’s hand was still reaching towards where you were a moment ago. Reaching to keep you there.

You clapped the doctor on the shoulder as you jogged past him and out of the medical tent. Immediately you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you left the tent, escaping from the empty touches that left your heart aching for more. Aching for what you knew would never happen — could never happen.

“What do we got?” You asked, looking at your residents as you pulled new medical gloves on. When you started preparing for a new patient, you felt any previous thoughts melting away, being replaced by the familiar adrenaline high of surgery.

“Caucasian female, approximately early to mid thirties. Suspected pneumonia. Possible internal bleeding, possible concussion and ruptured right eardrum, along with some gashes on her arms.” One of your residents began listing symptoms while you made your way to the patient.

You grimaced as they spoke, already imagining what the patient must look like in that condition.

You and your residents arrived at the patients gurney where the woman laid, holding her bloody abdomen. She was supervised by two nurses that helped to keep her stable until you got there.

Your eyes scanned her shaking form, looking for any other injuries. Her emerald eyes were wide and glossy with tears, there were tear streaks running down her cheeks as well. Her lips were plump and red, the bottom lip was almost split from her biting it to try and stifle the pain. Her hair was vibrant red, thankfully not from any blood, and it flowed in messy waves down past her shoulders. She writhed and thrashed with every wave of pain that washed over her, her hands clawing into the sheet of the gurney. You could hear her teeth chattering from how cold she was as well.

“She’s been nonverbal so far and we suspect she can’t speak English. If she’s a civilian, she’ll be a native Russian speaker.” A nurse informed you.

You nodded to yourself, a beat passing as you evaluated the situation at hand.

You pulled out your tablet and searched for Russian translations, only coming up with the bare minimum phrases for the Russian language. Pursing your lips, you decided that while it wasn’t the best or most detailed, it would have to do.

Turning towards the patient again, you grabbed her hand with both of yours and squeezed it gently.

“Мне нужно осмотреть вас на наличие травм.” I need to examine you for injuries. You told her, trying your best to pronounce everything accurately.

“Все в порядке?” Is that alright? You asked, trying to make her comfortable by asking for her consent before touching her.

She nodded rapidly, eyes squeezed shut.

Immediately you and your team started triaging. One resident began a neurological exam, another administered more IV medications, and you began examining her abdomen, feeling for broken ribs and inflamed tissue. Using your stethoscope, you checked her breath sounds and heart rate. Clear and steady.

After clearing her of any cardiac injuries, you grabbed some warmed blankets and wrapped them around her, taking care as to not press hard on any injuries. She exhaled in relief at the slightest bit of warmth.

You and another resident then worked on patching up the wounds on her arms, starting by cleansing the wounds and dressing them with gauze pads and bandage wrapping.

You moved on to join your neurological resident with their examination. Her pupils were reactive but one was slightly dilated more than the other. Her head was throbbing and she was experiencing tinnitus in one ear, and the other ear had a busted eardrum. Another concerning sign was her feeling of nausea. Due to being out in the field, there was no way to tell if it was due to a brain bleed or if it was from trauma of all of the injuries.

You shared a knowing look with your team; you all knew how fatal a brain bleed could become. You all knew how quickly a patient could deteriorate if a brain bleed isn’t diagnosed quick enough.

She needed to be moved to a warm, well stocked hospital with the means to diagnose and treat her.

You made a judgement call and reached for your radio attached to your scrub top, pressing the audio button to call Captain Price.

“Captain, this is Doc. I need an emergency med-evac, ASAP!” You shouted into your radio, making sure Price could hear you over the howling wind.

“Copy that, Doc. Exfil will be there shortly!”

Your team immediately started heading for the helipad, wheeling her gurney and bringing all of the same medical supplies she needed. You wrapped some more warmed blankets over her as you waited for the med-evac.

As the helicopter approached the helipad, the already blistering wind became even colder. Once the helicopter landed, your team lifted up her gurney and wheeled it into the helicopter.

You gathered your duffel bag of supplies and said goodbye to the rest your team before climbing into the helicopter. As you were clipping your seatbelt on, the pilot leaned his head back to introduce himself.

“You’re the 141’s surgeon, I presume? Nikolai at your service.” His voice was muffled by the whirring of the helicopter blades but you could still make it out.

“Yeah, Captain Price talks about you a lot! It’s nice to have a friend in high places.” You grinned as you reached to close the helicopter doors.

He threw a salute back to you before preparing to lift off the helipad. The helicopter began shaking from the turbulence, making you grip the armrest tighter.

A whimper from the injured woman brought you out of your conversation, making you look down at her. The shaking had jostled her awake and pulled a cry of pain deep from her chest when her body shifted even the slightest bit. The movement made the throbbing in her head worsen too.

You reached down to hold her hand in sympathy, looking down at the redhead with furrowed brows and a sad smile on your lips.

Her eyes opened after a moment, immediately finding yours. Something was different about her gaze but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Something was.. off.

Suddenly she sat up and yanked your arm to pull you closer, making your eyes widen at her newfound strength. Something glinted in your periphery before she whispered in your ear, “Мне жаль. Я бы хотел, чтобы мне не пришлось этого делать.” I am sorry. I wish I didn’t have to do this.

Before you could process what she said, let alone translate it, she twisted your left arm into an impossible angle until you heard a crack. You cried out in pain and shock. Your arm fell limp at your side and pain radiated from your shoulder down to the tips of your fingers.

That pain was nothing compared to having a knife plunged into your chest right between your rib cage and into your sternum.

Pain bloomed in your chest, and you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Your shaky breaths came out in huffs as you looked down to your stomach, seeing a knife sticking out of your abdomen. Blood was seeping through your gear, crimson quickly staining the white fabric.

The woman yanked the knife out with a twist causing you to wail in agony. Once the knife was pulled, there was nothing to stop you from bleeding out in the middle of that helicopter. With a shaky hand, you reached into your duffel bag and retrieve some gauze pads. You carefully stuffed them against the wound before zipping up your tactical jacket to hold the gauze in place.

Every inhale you took felt like you were getting stabbed all over again, and every exhale you took sounded like a labored wheeze.

Nikolai turned to look back at you after you screamed, letting out a string of curses into his comms. He leaned out of his seat to get a closer look at you, giving the woman the perfect shot to throw that same knife and hit him square in the chest.

Your eyes widened in panic as you realized that she had just killed Nikolai, the Captain's close friend and the pilot of the damn helicopter.

She jumped out of the gurney and grabbed a parachute that was laying next to you before putting it on. Once she secured it, she pulled you up from your seat by your arms and used rappelling rope to tie you to her.

Throughout all of this, blood loss was taking a toll on you. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your head was spinning from dizziness. Your limbs felt heavy and sluggish, so when you tried to escape her hold, it was useless. Almost laughable.

She then slid open the helicopter door and wrapped her arms around you from behind. Black dots began flooding your vision as you started to feel faint.

Before you could process anything, she jumped out of the falling helicopter with you in her arms. Both of you were rapidly descending to the dark, choppy ocean. She reached around and pulled the pin from the parachute, releasing the canopy. Once the canopy got caught on the billowing wind, your descent to the water below slowed down.

You inhaled a deep breath and held it.

When the two of you hit the freezing water, the currents immediately pulled you under the surface of the waves. Your left arm was definitely dislocated and you wouldn’t be surprised if something was broken as well. You tried using your right arm to push yourself up towards the surface.

Your lungs burned with every second that you fought to hold your breath. Your chest felt crushed and your throat felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, thump, thump, thump.

You thrashed, trying to find something, anything to find purchase on. Anything that could act as a float while you caught your breath. No luck.

With every passing moment, your willpower dwindled and you soon found yourself giving in to the urge to breathe. Just as you were about to take a breath, you felt yourself get pulled from the water.

The second your head came above the surface, you gasped for air. You took deep, desperate breaths until your lungs weren’t on fire anymore. Until you could feel the barbed wire wrapped around your throat loosen.

You looked up to see who was pulling you out of the water and to the shore, only to see the same red hair from the woman that attacked you in the helicopter. You didn’t have the energy to fight anymore, and you knew that you would probably bleed out soon anyways. You relented, letting your body go limp as she dragged you to land.

Blackness flooded your vision until your heavy eyelids finally dropped, giving into the heavy exhaustion.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the woman speaking in quiet Russian. “цель успешно захвачена. мы прибудем в ближайшее время.” Target captured successfully. We will arrive shortly.

next chapter

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[ultralightpoe]

Pearl, Peach and Pomegranate - Tangerine

Authors Note: I am working on requests rn but I had to write this because it’s been stuck in my head all dayyyyyy -- Let me know if you want more of this little family?

Description: The Three times Tangerine meets the loves of his life

Warnings: birth giving

Word Count: 1730

If you like Taylor Swift and my writng then look at my writing event I have HERE! I think you will really enjoy it! 

Enjoy!

Pearl  

You were having a good day, this much Tan knew. 

He had been watching you for days, sitting in the back booth of a pub near a mission he had taken, with his brother. They still had two more weeks of work and Tan was just fine with spending every second he could sitting right here…..watching you. 

“You should go talk to her.” Lemon offers, playing the straw of his lemonade, smiling a bit when Tan shakes his head. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could hear me, mate.” Tangerine snaps, his face thrown in an incredulous look as if the thought was the worst thing he had ever heard. His rings glint in the light as he grabs the empty glass in front of him and breathes out. 

“Well you need another drink.”

“She seems busy.” Lemon laughs at this, gesturing to where you were polishing glasses with no one bothering you. “Okay okay. Fine.”

Risking one last glance at his brother before sitting up and scooting out of the booth, taking three easy strides across the bar until his hands touch the wooden bartop that separates you from him. You don’t notice him at first, which he is affronted and glad for, and he took a second to watch you a bit closer. 

You were pretty from a distance but at this angle you were absolutely stunning, from your hair to your outfit all the way to the pearl dangly earrings you wore in your ear. 

“Oh hey! Sorry, what can I get for ya?” You smile and he swears he feels his heart stop. It takes him a minute to clear his throat and come up with a good response, a heat traveling his skin. 

“How about your number?” Smooth. Bloody smooth. 

“Or maybe you can start with my name?” You laugh, reaching a hand out to him. “I’m Y/n.”

“Tangerine.” He responds, reaching to shake your hand and there is a zap when your skin hits his. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were using code names.” You tease, shaking your head. 

“Get a grip, pearl. Catch on.” He laughs, sitting on the stool to stare at you.

“Pearl?”

“Yeah, my lil’ pearl.”

—---------------------

Peach 

“How ya doin’ love?” Tangerine asks, decked out in protective hospital scrubs, leaning down to kiss your forehead as you grunted in pain for the hundredth time. 

You were covered in sweat, tears sliding down your cheeks, and his hand had lost feeling 10 minutes ago due to your tight grip but Tan had never been so in love with you. Which was astounding considering he worshiped the ground you walked on. The pearl wedding ring you wore began digging into his hand as you yelled out while the doctors began trying to do breathing exercises with you and you tried to keep your cool, you really did. But the second the sweet short nurse started handing you another ice chip you lost it a bit. “Get the fuck OUT OF MY SPACE WITH YOUR UNMELTED WATER!”

A laugh crawls up Tans throat that is quickly diminished when he sees the nurse give you a dirty look, a protective anger washes over him and he reaches a hand over to snatch the cup from her. “I can handle this, yeah? Why don’t ya’ go hover over another pregnant lady?”

His eyebrows are pinched together and when he leans forward to give her his best ‘fuck around and find out’ look the gold chain he always wears pops out of the scrubs and flashes. You hum, coming down from a contraction and your hold on his right hand softens the slightest bit. 

The nurse, apparently not as stupid as he thought, backs out and removes herself from the room. The second the door closes he turns to you and leans his head in, allowing you to smell the peppermint he loved so much. “Say the word Pearl, and I’ll go handle her.”

“Easy there tiger.” You laugh, letting go of his hand to reach up and hold the back of his shirt and draw him in. “No death on our baby's day.”

So he listened, and he is thankful he was here for this because 2 hours later you were holding a small bundle in your arms as Tan paced the room anxiously. The doctors had left to check all the test results to make sure the baby was okay leaving you three alone in the room. 

The purple bundle (Lemon had insisted purple was a lucky color for babies and made a blanket himself) was so silent and terrifying that Tan had to stay on the other side of the room. 

He, for the first time in his fucking life, felt so vile. Like he would taint the air his daughter breathed, his pure precious daughter. 

“Would you stop pacing and come hold her?” You ask, a soft look on your face.

“I…..Pearl I can’t-” He chokes up, body tightening and eyes welling with tears. “I don’t wanna hurt her.”

“My arms are so tired, please?” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that, but you knew the only way he’d get over his fear is if he thought you were in pain. Within moments he was across the room, hands shaking as he slowly picked her up into his arms and sat in the chair beside your bed. 

Tangerine had been on countless missions where he had to keep himself contained in order not to get caught, and yet never once in his life had he ever sat so still. He couldn’t risk hurting the……

And that’s when he sees her, looking down on the sweetest face he has ever seen, peacefully sleeping. Tears began flowing from his eyes and you laughed lightly as you watched, crying yourself. 

“How do we feel about the name Peach?” You finally ask after a moment of crying and Tangerine could do nothing else but nod. Because at that moment he knew he would tear out his own heart for his little girl, his sweet baby Peach. 

—------------------

Pomegranate 

He was still covered in blood by the time the plane landed, Lemon panting by his side as they raced through the airport with tons of people turning to stare at them. If this was any other day he would have changed into a fresh suit and tried to hide the proof of what he had just done. 

But he had no time to fuck around today. 

You had told him you had a feeling something was gonna happen before he left, and the both of you assumed that feeling revolved around him getting hurt on the mission, so he had promised to stay safe and kissed you passionately before he bent down to kiss Peach’s head and left. 

Little did he know that your feeling would end up meaning you would go into labor 8 days early and he would miss the birth of his second daughter. 

“Lemon, hurry THE FUCK UP!” He barks when they reach the parking lot, rushing to the cars in the back and both finding the first one that was unlocked and throwing their stuff in the back. 

Lemon sets his bag down  lightly, shaking his head when Tangerine chucks his own on top. “Be careful, yeah? I got that gift for Peach in there.”

Lemon had taken his job as godfather very seriously and now every place they went he collected an ornament for your daughter so she could hang it on her little pine in the backyard. 

“Yeah yeah. Your Peach’s favorite blah blah blah. Shut the fuck up mate.” Tan snaps, hopping in the drivers seat and hotwiring the car. “I got her a barbie.”

“She likes G.I. Joes.”

“Well France didn’t have any fucking- you know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you because the barbie I got was cool. Yeah? So fucking awesome. Wearin’ scrubs and everything so why don’t ya piss off?” 

Lemon shakes his head, obviously amused and holds on tight as his brother tears through the streets like a wild man. By the time they actually make it to the house the car is nearly out of gas and definitely burnt through the oil. 

The second he has it parked he is rushing out, racing up the front steps and opening the front door. 

Peach squeals in excitement, dropping the two figurines she had been playing with, and jumping across the room to dive into his arms. 

“There she is! My plump little Peach!” Tan sighs, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her in. Every worry seemed to vanish when you or your daughter hugged him and for that he was eternally grateful. “Where is ma?”

“Upstairs!” She smiles, pulling out of his hug much to his chagrin and dragging him up the stairs to the nursery he had set up a month before he left. 

The door is silent when he cracks it open, but his daughter stomps across the room calling for you. You smile, sitting up in the rocking chair when you see them both, and fix the bundle you were holding so he could get a better look.

He never wanted to meet his second child covered in blood, and he was embarrassed at the fact that this is how his new baby would meet him at all. Not that it mattered considering she wouldn’t actually recognize colors or remember this when she grows up. 

You hand her off, kissing the top of the blanket before moving to pick up Peach so she didn’t feel left out. Tangerine tries to catch his breath as the baby blinks at him, waking up and looking straight at him.

“She’s looking at me.” He says, heart beating out of his chest. Suddenly the baby smiles and coos and he feels like throwing up in excitement. 

“She must recognize your voice.” You smile, bringing Peach closer to see. 

“What did you name her?”

“Well I figured we had a tradition to uphold and since I was craving Pomegranate seeds for 9 months it seemed fitting to name her…”

“Pomegranate.” He smiles, a laugh escaping him. “Oh she’s gonna grow up hatin’ us for that one. I love it.”

“Hey papa?”

“Yeah Peach?”

“What is all over you?”

“Uhm…..paint?” 

(If you like Taylor Swift and my writing take a look at my writing event for April HERE! I think you will really like it! Let me know if you want more of Tangerine and his two daughters!)

[crazycatgirl420]

Gotham's Black Rose

Dpxdc fanfic

I saw a post about Sam being Bruce's daughter and I've been reading a lot of comics recently about family and stuff. Idk what I'm actually thinking right now but the vibes are talking to me okay?

So it's a little implied kinky? Nothing happens but Sam gets lost in her thoughts for most of this chapter and she trails off into thinking around some kinda related topics, Everlasting Trio, so Danny/Sam/Tucker. Its just a short ch 1 so I'll see what happens if I write more.

Chapter 1: In My Head

Sam could feel the rage boiling in her blood. She was months from turning Eighteen. She had everything planned out for her grand escape from the Manson Mansion, from her car to a two room apartment in Gotham near Gotham University. Once she graduated she'd grab her boys, their daughter, and they'd ditch this fucked up town they would never accept them.

But here she stood, every inch of her individuality scrubbed away, to pose as the Manson's perfect daughter one last time.

"Of course we love our community-" Pamela said, it was a lie if Sam ever heard one.

This was a public event, the opening of a Children's Home. The polite new way of saying Orphanage.

Why she had to remove the purple dye from her hair for this she had no idea. She wasn't even allowed to wear her contacts. First of all they're prescription contacts now, so instead of having cool purple eyes, she had to wear glasses. Black hair and blue eyes, if she wasn't so tanned she could pass as another Fenton kid.

Not that there would be anything wrong with that sometimes... Sam bite her lip to chase away the naughty Tucker voice whispering in her ear. But maybe she could get a few photos with Danny before she re-dyed her hair and ditched the glasses again...

"Why, I remember it like it was only yesterday when Pam and I adopted Samantha-"

"What!" Sam turned to face her parents - The Manson's. "I'm adopted?"

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter Six: Edging Forward

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, adventure, alcohol, injuries, fluff, angst, smut (eventual), slowish burn. Reader is a badass. Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). Additional warnings will be posted with each chapter as needed. No use of y/n.

AN: Thank you so much for the feedback on this fun little story!

Series masterlist

Chapter Six: Edging Forward

I figured we could think about it together.

The statement left you flustered, exhaustion making you wonder if you hallucinated it. The soft bump of his shoulder jostling yours removed the doubt.

“Talk to me.” Joel’s voice was a deep rasp in the dimly lit room, wrapping around you like a thick blanket. It was comforting and inviting, so you did. You talked through everything, what happened with Connor, the confusion and pining you felt for Joel, the emotional roller coaster… everything. He remained quiet, eyes never leaving your face as he listened until your voice tailed off into dead air.

For several, long minutes, the only sound on the bridge was that of your combined breathing. When Joel finally did speak, the deep rumble startled you.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes shot to his, the dark orbs shining in the low light, waiting for him to elaborate.

“For everything – for the emotional roller coaster, for not making sure you understood where I’m coming from, not being clear about what I want. For you having to be the one to save Connor. All of it.” Joel scrubbed his hands against the scruff of his beard with a sigh. “I feel all the things you do; I promise. I just, I won’t do anything about it right now. That doesn’t mean I won’t later. Ya get me?”

Biting your lip, you searched his face. It was all there, in those big, dark chocolate eyes that you could fall so easily into. “So, not never. Just not right now.”

Heads turned toward each other, gazes remaining locked, Joel nodded. “I just want to maintain a more professional relationship while on the yacht, but we can be friendly, keep getting to know each other until the season ends. After that, we can decide, together, if there is anything to pursue further.” After a pause, he added, “How does that sound?”

Mulling it over, you nodded. It was a perfectly reasonable request, leaving you hopeful once again. “I can manage that. Just try to not be so fucking sexy all the time, will you?”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Joel’s chest. “I’ll try if you do. I don’t know if you realize this or not but you’re beautiful and it’s very distracting.”

Your face and neck were still flushed with warmth when your shift on anchor watch ended and, back in your cabin, you drifted off to thoughts of later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Brit! Come meet our new deckhand,” Tommy called as you walked out onto the aft deck hours later, refreshed from a deep nap. He introduced you by your real name first, then added, “But everyone calls her Brit ‘cause she’s British. Brit, this is Jake.”

Reaching out, you shook Jake’s hand with a firm grip. He was tall and broad, like Joel, torso tapering down to slim hips and strong legs. His face was tan, jaw strong, like it was chiseled from stone. His hair was light brown, cut short on the sides with a little wave on top. His eyes were big and ice blue, piercing you with an assessing gaze as you took him in.

“Hello, nice to meet you, Jake,” you greeted, assessment complete. He was hot.

“You too, Brit. Really happy to join this crew.”

You listened as Tommy inquired about Jake’s experience and strengths, trying not to fidget every time those icy blue eyes gazed at you. Someone once told you that boys with dark hair and light eyes were nothing but trouble. You had the sense that was entirely true. Jake was trouble.

A call came over the radio just then, Ellie requested Tommy’s help with something. Before departing, Tommy turned to you. “Can you show Jake to his bunk and help him settle in? Once you’re done, we’ll get the guests in the water with the toys.”

“Sure, come on, Jake. I’ll give you the penny tour on the way.” Leading Jake through the yacht, you pointed out the importance stuff. “Have you met the captain yet?”

Nodding, Jake followed you. “Yeah, met him first thing. I also met his daughter… what’s her name, Sarah?”

“That’s it. They’re a good bunch, those Millers.” On the crew deck, you stopped in front of the boys’ cabin. “You’re in here with Sammy and Tommy. The free bunk is obviously yours.”

A stack of uniforms sat on the top bunk, a pile of luggage and an acoustic Taylor guitar on the floor. “You play?” you asked, intrigued.

“Any chance I get,” Jake replied, picking up the guitar to show off his skills. Long fingers strummed with the effortless talent of years spent playing the instrument. “Do you play?”

A quick shake of your head was your only response, eyes focused on watching his fingers pluck the strings.

“I could teach you. I bet you’re a quick study.” Your eyes shift to meet his, the burning look in them hinting at his desire for more than just teaching you to play guitar.

You hummed with a shake of your head, guiding the conversation back where it needed to go. “I’ll leave you to get settled and changed. Don’t take too long though.” You waited in the crew mess, having a little snack while Jake sorted out his things. Ten minutes later, you swallowed the last of your snack when Jake emerged from his cabin dressed in the daily deckhand uniform.

“How do I look?” he asked, spinning on the spot with a smirk. Such an incorrigible flirt. The shirt clung to his frame, hems stretching around his biceps. He looked good, really good, though you were not about to tell him that. Instead, you shrugged.

“It’ll do. Come on, we need to get out to the swim platform.”

Jake fit right in with the deck crew, taking direction from Tommy and finding ways to connect with everyone during conversations. Ellie was quickly charmed into wanting to learn to play the guitar. He was also a hard worker, enjoying the job just as you did.

“The guests want to head to the Virgin Islands for the next few days,” Tommy explained as the four of you wrapped up the washdown. “We’ll pull anchor in an hour. They want to explore the Buck Island National Wildlife Refuge this afternoon.”

“Wicked!” Jake exclaimed, blue eyes sparkling. “My undergrad was in marine and wildlife conservation. I love that stuff.”

“Perfect. You and Brit will go with the guests then. Ellie and I will stay here and help interior setup for the dinner party.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stocked with snacks and a cooler full of alcohol, you and Jake help the guests onto the tender.

“My, my, my, aren’t you just a pretty boy!” Donna teased, rubbing a hand along Jake’s bicep as he assisted her. “You must be the new guy. You can hold my hand as long as you want, handsome. Don’t mind my husband.”

From his spot on the swim platform, her husband rolled his eyes, a long-suffering smile upon his lips.

“I’m Jake, sweetheart.” Jake grinned at the vivacious woman, already entertained by the group.

“Careful, son. She’ll have her claws in you before long,” Doug teased, subtly pulling his wife away from the attractive, young deckhand. You really loved this group of guests. They were so playful.

“Okay, everyone ready? Let’s go exploring!” Once the lines were released, you steered the tender away from the yacht toward the wildlife refuge. “Our first stop will be the Buck Island Lighthouse.”

Buck Island was a rather bare little island about two miles southwest of St. Thomas, with little more to offer than the old, abandoned lighthouse and rocky shoreline. But for anyone interested in birding, it was a wonderful place to explore and spot various types of shorebirds.

The guests spent a couple hours walking the shoreline, bird watching, exploring the old lighthouse, and taking photos. After joining them for a bit of exploration, you and Jake sat on an outcrop on the northern side of little island, allowing the guests to enjoy their outing without you hovering over them, but ready to assist if needed.

“Where are you from?” you asked Jake. One of your favorite parts about yachting – aside from being on the water – was meeting and working with people from all over the world.

Charming little dimples appeared on his tanned cheeks as Jake grinned. “I’m from down under, mate. Grew up in Sydney surrounded by surf and sun.”

“Oh, I love Australia! My ex was Australian, so I’ve been a few times. The visits never lasted long enough, though. What was it like growing up there?”

“It was a wild mix of beautiful beaches, bustling cities, and the outback. We would go surfing in the morning and be on an adventure in the middle of nowhere by afternoon. Always felt like a bit of a paradox, but that’s what made it special.” Jake’s face was alight with boyish charm as he spoke of his homeland.

“Sounds wonderful. Why ever leave?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“An inflated sense of adventure, I guess?” Long fingers reached up, running through his wavy hair. Your eyes tracked how it flopped back into place. “When it started to feel like I exhausted all the adventure home had to offer, I got into yachting to explore more of the world. I’ve been lucky to work on boats down under, in the Mediterranean, and now here in the Caribbean.”

You could relate to the sense of adventure and wanting to explore the world on your terms. “Do you ever miss home?”

Jake’s ice blue eyes clouded over for a moment as he leant forward, elbows planted on his knees. “Of course, always. But yachting gives me a taste of home, even when I’m halfway across the world. Home is where my love for the water began, and yachting just lets me share that love all over the world.”

Nodding, you drew your knees up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around your calves in a loose hold. “I feel that in my soul. Although the Caribbean is nothing like England, just being on the water, wind in my hair and sun in my eyes, reminds me of back home and all those summers sailing with my grandfather.”

Conversation continued, weaving from travel, past relationships, hobbies, pets, to family. It was easy and unguarded. Jake reminded you a lot of your ex-boyfriend, handsome, charismatic, and easy to talk to. Even with all of that, your mind wandered back to thoughts of Joel during every lull in conversation.

When the guests returned from their explorations, you let Jake drive the tender back to the yacht, taking a seat next to the primary during the ride.

“Did you all get some good photos?” you asked, brushing errant locks of hair out of your face.

Donna smiled, pulling out her phone to scroll through some of the shots she took. Once done, she tucked her phone away and shifted closer to you. “There are a few hotties on the yacht, huh?” she asked conspiratorially, bumping your shoulder.

Humming in response, heat raced up your neck to your cheeks. “I can’t deny that some of the men are quite attractive.”

“And tell me, as a beautiful young woman surrounded by these handsome men, which one has caught your attention? I know it has to be one of them.” After a beat, Donna added with a wink, “I know who I think it is.”

Flustered, you were at a loss for what to say. Could you… should you… tell her the truth? You held your tongue, avoiding her gaze, which Donna took as a challenge.

“Well, I’ll tell you who I think it is and you just sit there and look pretty if I’m right.” You laughed at that, and, after a beat, Donna said, “It’s the captain. I know it. He’s quite dreamy.”

Your breath caught in your chest, smile falling. What? How? Your eyes searched hers for answers. Donna patted your knee with a well-manicured hand. “Oh dear, it’s obvious if you know what to look for. One glance at the pair of you and it’s clear that something’s there.”

Clearing your throat, you stutter through a response. “W-we’re not… we haven’t… there isn’t anything, yet.”

Giving you a knowing nod, Donna replied, “Yet being the operative word. You will soon enough, believe me. I know these things.”

Jake pulled up to the swim platform before you could say anything else, and you got back to work tying off the boat and helping the guests back onto the yacht.

“Welcome back! How was the outing?” Joel inquired once the guests were back on board, cocktails in hand.

“It was delightful!” Donna exclaimed. “You have a wonderful crew working for you, Captain. I’m particularly fond of Brit, she has been nothing but a joy to talk to.” She patted Joel’s arm with a knowing wink, leaving him pleased but perplexed.

Stepping onto the bridge aft deck, Joel gazed down at the swim platform where you and Jake were cleaning the tender. The pair of you worked well together it seemed, chatting and laughing the whole time. A small pang of jealousy rippled through his chest, but he shoved it down, reminding himself of your recent conversation.

You wouldn’t give up on him that quickly, would you?

No, he didn’t think you would, but the new deckhand was handsome and charming, less burdened…

The sound of your lilting laughter carried up the decks, bringing a hint of a smile to his lips despite the thread of concern weaving through his thudding heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The charter carried on much better than it started. News from Connor indicated that his charter season was over, his broken arm needing a couple months to fully heal. Emmy was heartbroken but stayed focused on work. The weather remained clear, and no further incidents occurred. Jake settled in, fitting in with the crew seamlessly. He and Tommy had a lot in common and often chatted while working.

You noticed Jake’s icy blue eyes lingering on you sometimes but brushed it off, still enamored with Joel. The primary’s words bounced around in your mind as well, leaving little room for thoughts of anyone or anything other than Joel and what may lay ahead for the two of you.

Since the conversation with Joel, you noticed him making a concerted effort to check in with you – meeting you on deck in the morning before your shift technically started, making little conversations throughout the day, and asking about your day before heading off to bed. Every interaction made your heart swell and you found yourself counting down the weeks until the season was over.

However, a few times on the last night and final morning of the charter, you caught him gazing at you with an unreadable expression that left you wondering if you did something wrong. You didn’t realize that Joel was watching from nearby while you and Jake were tidying up on the sundeck, misinterpreting your friendly conversation as something more than it was which fueled his growing frustration since Jake’s arrival.

“I dislocated my jaw while playing ultimate frisbee in college. It never healed right,” you explained, demonstrating how the right side of your jaw popped when you opened wide.

“How the hell did that happen? That’s not exactly a contact sport!” Jake’s eyes were wide as you told him how you collided with a big dude’s should while in mid-air trying to catch the frisbee. You both winced at the retelling.

“Your turn! I can’t wait to hear this!” you said with a laugh. After hearing his silly fact, you were hysterical. He was addicted to General Hospital. “You’re full of surprises, Jake. I never would’ve guessed you were into soap operas!”

He smirked at you, eyes sparkling in the boat lights. “Well, there’s a lot more to discover about me, Brit.”

You had brushed off the comment as Jake’s naturally charming personality, not reading anything more into it, but apparently Joel had.

When the yacht docked at the end of the charter, Donna left you with words of encouragement regarding Joel. “I’ve seen the way he’s been with you the past few days. He obviously cares about you, and you will make the most beautiful couple, in time. Good luck, my dear.”

“Oh hush,” you said with a chuckle. “Take care, Donna. I hope to see you and Doug again sometime.”

Pinching your cheeks like a child, Donna chuckled and arched a brow. “I have no doubts our paths will cross again sometime, dearie.” The woman moved her way down the line, saying goodbye to the rest of the crew. You watched as she stopped in front of Joel, pulling him in for a tight hug and whispering in his ear. Whatever she said made him blush wildly and you grinned.

As the last guest exited the passerelle, Joel turned to everyone. “You know the drill. Get to it.” Cheeks still tinged pink, he winked at you before heading back for the bridge.

The deck crew made swift work of the wash down, jumping in to assist the interior crew with changing out the bins and finishing up the dishes. Before long, it was mid-afternoon and time for the tip meeting. It was no surprise that Donna and Doug left you all a fantastic tip, tied for the best of the season. They had been very pleased with their experience.

Before dismissing the crew, Joel stood up. “I’ve a surprise for y’all. Dinner and rooms tonight and all day tomorrow at the Beach Club.” The words barely left his lips before the room erupted in celebration. When the main salon quieted once again, he added, “It’s on the other side of the island, so vans will be here to pick us up in two hours.”

While most everyone else scrambled to go get ready, you hung back, moving over to Frank while Bill and Joel discussed something. The tall, older man beamed down at you. “Hello love. What are you up to?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you sighed. “Just killing time, I guess. Won’t take me that long to get ready.”

“Well then, join me for a cocktail on the sundeck?” At the bar, Frank whipped up two martinis before motioning for you to lead the way out of the room. He caught Joel’s dark eyes tracking your movements and smiled.

After some initial small talk, Frank dove right into, catching you by surprise. “I’ve noticed something.”

Intrigued, you frown. “Noticed what?”

Leaning closer to you, Frank motions vaguely with his wine glass. “You and Joel, the way you orbit around each other without ever getting too close. I’ve noticed that it bothers you.”

A sigh escaped your lips, once again reminded that nothing went unnoticed in such an environment. When you didn’t say anything, Frank continued. “Joel’s a protector, always has been. He’s got this way of keeping everyone at arm’s length, but when he lets himself care, he cares deeply.”

Unsure where he was going with this, you continued frowning at him. “Okay…”

Frank patted your leg with an indulgent grin. “You’ve got him thinking. Maybe more than he’d like. It’s in the way he watches you, the way he softens at the mere sight of you. He’s protective of you.”

Equal parts confused and thoughtful, you inquired, “How do you mean?”

“The way he checks on you, the subtle glances. Joel’s not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but I’ve known him long enough to recognize when he’s wrestling with something. I think that something is you,” Frank explained. “You’ve gotten under his skin.”

You knew this already and nodded. “I know. He’s made it clear that there’s something here, but he doesn’t want to explore it until after the season’s over.”

A cryptic grin spread across Frank’s handsome face as he stood. “I have a feeling that some recent developments will change that. Have fun tonight.” He walked away before you could fully process what he said.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a first for Joel, leaving the yacht overnight during season. It was something he never would have done prior to meeting you. You, who caused so many unwitting changes in his usually rigid behaviour. After opening to you about his feelings, then watching someone new try to swoop in to gain your attention, he had to do something.

That something was the overnighter at the Beach Club, where he’d join the rest of the crew, minus Bill and Frank who offered to stay behind to watch the yacht so Joel could spend more time with you. Frank had no qualms in gushing to Joel how good you would be for him, how he should just enjoy the moments as they happen, and, quite simply, just remove the stick from his ass and do something before you gave up and found someone else.

Joel could take a hint when it punched him in the face.

Freshly showered and dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans, a short sleeve button down, and flip flops, Joel stepped out onto the main deck, the breeze tousling his still damp curls. The rest of the crew was waiting, stylishly dressed and small overnight bags in hand. His eyes zeroed in on you, long hair flowing over a simple, yet sexy sundress, a backpack slung over one shoulder, your skin dazzling in the evening sunlight. His gut clenched.

“Everyone ready?” Joel asked the group to distract himself from the stunning vision of you. Peering over the railing, he added, “Our rides have arrived.”

The sound of excited chatter filled the air as everyone moved down the passerelle and over to the awaiting mini vans. The group split between the two vehicles and Joel was uncertain whether to feel disappointed or relieved that you were not in the same van as him. All he knew was that he was not pleased that Jake was in the other van with you.

Tommy distracted Joel with conversation during the journey across the island, taking his mind off the near constant thoughts of you. He was becoming obsessed. Perhaps Frank was right – it was time to remove the stick from his ass and make a move, if for no other reason than to see if he could get you out of his system.

Dinner reservations were at six o’clock and Joel booked a total of five rooms, with the intention that the crew would bunk up and he’d have the fifth room to himself. Joel was no fool, though. He knew some of them – mostly Tommy – would try to pick up someone in the bar or hook up with each other and want some privacy, so he had two extra rooms on hold, if needed.

The ride was a little over an hour from the slip in San Juan to the resort in Ponce, and everyone was relieved to arrive in time to freshen up before dinner at La Cava Restaurant.

Once the rooms were sorted out – of course, Tommy quietly requested a room of his own, planning for later – everyone headed for the elevator. The rooms were scattered throughout the resort, by design. Joel wanted to cause the least amount of disruption to the other guests knowing how rowdy the crew might get. As the crowd in the elevator dwindled, Joel turned to you.

His palms were already sweaty with nerves. “Stay with me?”

You blinked up at him. “Do you mean…?”

Joel’s lips quirked up in a nervous half smile as he nodded. “Stay. In my room. With me, tonight.” The words fell from his lips awkwardly, but the gleam in his eyes begged you to understand that he wanted this, needed this. “We don’t have to do anything. Just stay with me.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “But…” You were about to question the sanity of this, but it looked like you thought better of it as a dazzling smile lit up your face. “I would love to, Joel.”

Relief washed over Joel in a wave and without conscious thought, he leant down, his lips catching yours in the briefest, softest kiss.

TBC

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[dragyouthroughthewhump]

Augusnippets Day 2 : Platonic bathing

CW : platonic undressing, platonic nudity(nothing graphic), ummm recovering whumpee. Hmmm, I couldn't think of anything else lol

Caretaker was out of options. Promising Whumpee their favorite food, a trip to the park, they even suggested rescuing a puppy or kitten to keep whumpee company. All denied.

Caretaker sighed softly and hung their head. "Whumpee...you need a bath. I know the water is scary, but I'm right here. It won't hurt you while I'm here."

Whumpee eyed the tub, squeezing the plush pillow closer to their chest. Their voice faint and rough, "c-c-can-nt...m-m-mo-ove..."

Caretaker padded over, socks muffling any loud steps that might send Whumpee running to hide again. "How about we do this together, hm? I'll be right next to you."

Whumpee looked at Caretaker, eyes searching their face for intention. After a few moments they nodded, fingers tightening on the plush. "O-okay....c-c-can try....tog-gether..."

Caretaker smiled and gently guided Whumpee further into the room. As Caretaker pulled off their own shirt Whumpee set the plush carefully near the tub, within easy grasping distance. Whumpee hesitated, just watching as Caretaker undressed. Caretaker knew they must be waiting for this to turn wrong. They looked over at Whumpee, "Would you like some help? The washing machine will take care of your clothes, they'll weigh you down in the tub."

Whumpee lowered their head and nodded; hands trembling as they gripped the hem of the shirt. With Caretaker's help, they got undressed, tossing aside the garments in a heap.

Whumpee was trembling all over. Caretaker took one of their hands and placed their free hand on Whumpee's back, taking each step in tandem closer to the tub. Caretaker put one foot in and waited for Whumpee to do the same. "I'm right here...we'll do this together."

After a few shakey deep breaths Whumpee lifted and hesitantly put one foot in. Their trembling turned to shaking, but Caretaker kept their hands soft, not pushing or pulling, waiting for Whumpee to make the next move. Soon they each hand both feet in the warm water and side-by-side crouched and sat down.

Caretaker smiled and gently squeezed Whumpees hand. "You're doing amazing. Remember, I'm right here. You can tell me to stop at any time." Onehanded, Caretaker got a small cup and gently poured water down Whumpees arms and back.

As they lifted the cup towards Whumpee's head a frightened, "Sto-o-op..!" Came out of Whumpee. Caretaker froze and lowered the cup, fingers rubbing the back of Whumpees hand. "Alright...we can soap up other areas first...but we will have to at least rinse your hair before we finish. Okay?"

Whumpee nodded, a small whimper leaving their lips. Caretaker waited patiently for them to calm before taking the soapy sponge and washing their body. The water around them swirled and slowly changed from clear to tan to almost a brown by the time Caretaker finished.

Caretaker drained and refilled the water, giving Whumpee more time to prepare for their hair. They even wet a soft cloth and wiped their face. "Ready for your hair? It'll be just the same, water, soap, water again..."

Whumpee shivered and their hand grasped the plush they had left near the tub. They took several deep breaths then nodded, "r-r-ready..." Caretaker smiled and tilted Whumpee's head back, carefully rinsing the tangled strands and ensuring no water fell down their face.

They kept an eye on Whumpee's expression as they worked. Hands gently massaging their scalp and loosening the debris as they worked. Caretaker dripped shampoo onto their head, "Nearly there...still okay? Still with me?" Whumpee's eyes rolled upwards to see Caretaker and gave a stiff nod, "St-til...h-h-here..."

Caretaker smiled and went back to rubbing Whumpee's scalp and scrubbing their hair. Quickly, Whumpee's natural color overtook the dingy grey that had infiltrated. With a few rinses, nearly all the dirt had been removed and Caretaker helped Whumpee sit up.

Just as they had in the beginning, Caretaker moved alongside Whumpee as they got up and out of the tub. Caretaker grabbed a towel and placed it around Whumpees shoulders. "You did wonderfully. I am very proud of you."

Whumpee pulled the plush to their chest and wrapped themselves in the towel. Caretaker mentally took note the pillow would need a washing soon also.

"Do-oes....this mea-an....we c-c-can g-g-get...a pu-uppy...?"

[ritikajoil1990]

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[allthatmay]

Before I knew what I wanted to ship (hello Shanks/Ace!), I tried my hand at writing some Law/Luffy. Still kinda like the idea; it was a Naga AU. Thought I'd post the beginning of it for you all, just for funsies.

Initially, Law hadn’t known what he was looking at. The thing was lying in the low tides, shimmering like iridescent clams in blue water. It had colours as vivid and variegated as some of the local species of shoreline coral, so Law supposed that’s what it was at first. Yet something bade him closer, and it was as he approached that he realised he wasn’t looking at coral, but at scales; at fins; at a large, magnificent tail.

Law’s second supposition was that the tail belonged to a mermaid. However, the fins were quite unlike those of the mermaids Law had known, being of a particularly transparent and flowing nature. The water manipulated them easily, making them undulate like jellyfish.

“Hello?” he called out.

The tail—and whoever it was attached to—didn’t move. Intrigued, Law walked closer until the tide was licking at his boots, then carefully manoeuvred around the rock upon which the supposed mermaid was leaning. Up close, the colours of the tail appeared even more spectacular, red and blue interspersed with shocks of orange so bright they glittered gold. Law's gaze followed the length of the tail up to a tanned, muscular waist, then to a face shadowed by dark, shaggy hair, and a half-opened mouth.

It became immediately apparent to Law that this man was not a mermaid. He couldn’t be, for he had too many scales: a cluster of them spread down his cheekbones from his webbed ears; a myriad surrounded the webs of his fingers; and angular patches lined the flanks of his abdomen. There wasn’t a wound in sight and yet the man was clearly unconscious, so Law took hold of his faithful nodachi, Kikoku, and called upon the power of his Devil Fruit.

“Room,” he murmured.

Encased within his power, Law immediately set about inspecting the man’s vitals. The injury was on the back of his head, so Law didn’t even attempt to treat him then and there. Instead, he used his power to swap himself and the fishman with a couple of bedsheets in the infirmary of his submarine. As soon as they appeared on board, Law swiftly repositioned the man upon the patient bed, exposing his head wound.

“North fucking Blue, Cap’n, you scared me.”

Law glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “Penguin, it's you. Good. Patient’s around 140kg. I need total intravenous anaesthesia—propofol and remifentanil infusion. Prep for transfusion, too, blood type F. Quickly.”

Penguin scattered, returning just as Law finished cleaning the surface of the wound, exposing the gnarly truth beneath. His gloves were already stained red, so he swapped them for another pair.

“Fucking hell,” Penguin breathed, staggering. “I’ll get Bepo.”

“As soon as possible, yes.”

That the fishman was alive was a miracle; something in his nature, perhaps. He had both a concerningly large hematoma and a skull fracture, but no haemorrhaging, at least. It was easy for Law to cut out the hematoma and the intruding blood with his Devil Fruit powers, but the fracture was a trickier mistress; bits of misplaced bone and the risk of brain-bleed meant Law was absolutely meticulous in his actions, spending agonising hours removing mere shards of bone before he could tend to reshaping the skull and sewing it all together.

“Well done, Captain,” Bepo said when all was said and done. His face-mask stretched with his smile. “Go lie down. I’ll watch over the patient.”

“Look out for—”

“I know.”

“If he doesn't—”

“I know, Captain. I was taught by the best!” You, his smile said. “Go get something to eat. You look exhausted.”

Law scowled but made no effort to refute. He discarded his surgical wear and scrubbed his hands clean, then elected to shower anyway, his thoughts on the mysterious fishman the entire time.

[russetruse]

I know I don’t post writings here often, but I wanted to write something for @lizadale’s Dimigi!au. I don’t know Libby if you dream about the Dimigi!au but sometimes I do. I blame you sis. But also I added a lot more since you read the smaller version, enjoy almost 3k words on only part one of many.

Sorry it is written in 2nd person, but I blame Libby for getting me to only function in this style of writing but I can’t seem to write in any other prospective anymore lol.

I color coded characters, but what sucks is that this one doesn’t have black so I can’t use one of my original colors for characters speak. So the color I planned for one character had to move to the heart and the hearts color was originally black >:[ But I hope you enjoy.

Calamitous Revelry

Part I

Luigi Prov

CW/TW: Trauma, abuse, triggers on abuse, mentions on drowning/strangulation

You run your fingers through his greasy, tangled hair. Every time he goes on a mission, it seems he neglects basic bodily functions. The longer he’s off on one of his Merloo missions, the more worried you become. It brings you back to the days of the Castle, how he only seemed to eat when the other members were shoving food in his face at the required meetings. Even back then, his mask didn’t hide much from you. He had long given up before joining that group. It just frustrated you so much, he puts his own well being always being last on his list.

”Can you be more gentle?” He spoke very softly, but the voice cuts through the silence. His fragile, small body, leaning against the frame of the claw foot bathtub. It knots your stomach seeing him like this. Why did he always do this? Why was being away from you for any extended amount of time so collapsing to his mental state? Were you the only thing keeping him from self-destructing?

”Sorry. You really knotted your hair this time. I am trying my best to be gentle.” You reply softly, not wanting to cause him to jump and flee. This was close to being just as bad as when you found him almost dead in the deteriorating remains of Castle Bleck. Dimentio being caked in blood and dirt. You were hardly able to handle how much came off of him then, but even this was trying to match up to that day. Right now, the bath water was darker than your tan skin. You click your tongue, a Dio habit that you had seemed to pick up sometime throughout the course of living with him. Very glad that you had rolled up your sleeves above your elbows before even starting to wash him. And the water being this dirty before you even started to actually scrub his body! You click your tongue again in annoyance and frustration.

You knew Dimentio wanted to teleport away. Especially after he walked into the house. Well walked was even an understatement. He half floated, half dragged his feet across the threshold when he opened the door to your entrance. You swore he was going to collapse there in the entrance if you hadn’t been there to grab him and hold him with your own weight.

What shocked you more was the jester actually complained as you fondled him in worry, going down your own checklist in your head as you did so. First, checking him for injuries since he did have some blood caked on his clothes, and you weren’t sure if that blood was his or another’s. Which raised even more questions that you knew he wouldn’t divulge answers to you. So giving up on even prying into the matter, you scoop him up bridal style, and rush him up the stairs. Your lips placing kisses on his scars around his left eye, making sure to not miss a spot and to distract him from what you had planned ahead.

He started struggling in your grasp as you started running warm water in the tub of the finished guest room and declothed him. The caked on clothes were a pain to get off of his dirtied skin. Through the frustration of removing the clothes piece by piece, you confirmed at least most of the blood on his clothes were not his. Which did not lighten the feeling of comfort you wanted from his return, it concerned you more. Whose blood was this and did they deserve such injuries from him? But you shake your head, another series of questions you would not get answers to. You needed to get him clean before you would even get any chance to put food in his system. Let alone would your mind allow you to put him on the back burner and cook food when you knew he needed to be cleaned up right away.

The jester complained as you worked on completely bringing him down to his birthday suit, still double checking for any injuries that may need stitches or extra care. He complained to you until you submerged him into the warm bath water, that’s when his demeanor changed. He then held onto you as if his life depended on it. As if the water in the tub would drag him below the water's surface and take his last breath. You also knew if you looked away, he would quickly teleport away. And your goal to get him cleaned up would long be abandoned.

It takes you way too long to comb out the knots and grime out of his hair, but this makes you feel a bit better. Well, until you wrap your arm around him; your forearm resting across his chest and placing your hand under his armpit. It always takes you by surprise at how tiny he is, not just in height, but in size. Your body is giant compared to him. And you were use to being called “too skinny”, but even you didn’t complain to the man you held in your arms.

You lean forward, and with your free hand, you begin to drain the dirty water in the tub. You really needed to replace it with fresh, warm water. His body tenses at the water starting to run again to refill the tub. The jesters heart was beginning to race in a panic from this. You press him tighter to you, slowly soaking your own shirt. What good did you get from rolling up your sleeves to only press a wet twink to your chest. But still, you do not let him pull away, hoping that he can feel your heartbeat through the wool top. Yet you also hope that he doesn’t feel the Chaos Heart beating as well in your chest.

”I am NOT letting you go.” You whisper softly into his right ear, your mustache tickling it. Dimentio squirms in your grasp, fighting his own instincts to flee. Every nerve he had, you knew told him to get away quickly. You bring your lips to his ear, pecking it with a soft kiss. His body squirms more at his own signals being challenged. A challenge to fight staying and be adored by you or flee due to the rising water in this situation.

”I won’t let you drown.” You speak sternly to him, not sure if it was in assurance for you or him. You start to nibble on his ear, your free hand grabbing the washcloth and rinsing it under the spout.

You can feel his fingernails dig into your arm as the water rises above his hips. You wince at this, but start to scrub the dirt and grime off of his legs and feet. You take extra time on his swollen ankles in another attempt to calm him. Letting your hand through the wash cloth slowly message his swollen ankles to make sure he didn’t do more damage to them then what appeared on the surface. You find yourself at a loss when you run the washcloth over his ribs. Your stomach turns seeing the jester's ribs through his skin so easily that you could count every one of them. It upsets you so much that he is neglecting himself when he is away from you.

”Luigi.”

You grumble, tightening your grip, mumbling under your own breath. Why was he like this? Why was he so willing to throw his life away? So many cared for him. He had more worth than he thought or believe he had.

”Luigi!”

You can feel your own anger bubbling and building in your body.

No one.

No one.

Not even yourself. Not even in the dreamscape. Not even against the chaos heart, or even in your own dreams, were you willing to throw your life away so easily. A growl builds in your throat and comes out through your own words. “Why are you like this?”

“Lui!”

Thu-Thump…

You freeze up, your body stiffens at your own thoughts. Only Dimentio was ever able to rile up so much negative emotions in you. King boo wasn’t even able to do this to you.

“Lui-“

Thu-Thump.

You feel his fingernails claw at both of your arms now. Digging deep enough to draw blood.

Thu-THUMP.

The nails dig deeper and deeper into your arms, clawing down from your elbows to your hands. With what little nails the jester had left, were tearing at your arms. You knew he feared water, but this was ridiculous at how much he was trying to get out of being cleaned by you. You tighten your grip to this, growling loudly in frustration and anger at Dimentio.

THU-THUMP!

Water splashes onto your pants, snapping you out of your own thoughts. The buzzing sound in your ears is replaced with the sound of splashing. Your eyes widen in shock as you quickly pull your hands away from his neck. Your arms and hands dripping from blood from the number he did on you.

You watch him in worry and shock as the ancient quickly yanks himself from under the water's surface. Dimentio’s body was shaking uncontrollably from fear, coughing and gasping from the need of oxygen that deprived him. You were unsure of how long you had held him under, but the water he was coughing up said enough. His lungs were trying their hardest to clear the water that you had forced into them. The ancients eyes never leave your bloody, shaking hands.

No…

No.

No! You would never do that to him.

Never!

THU-THUMP!

You can hear the heart beating loudly in your ears and chest.

”I’m sorry Dio. I-It wasn’t me,” you stutter though a shaky voice, “I promise. It was th-“

You reach your shaking hands towards him in assurance. But the second you do, the familiar sounds of the jester teleporting away before you can even finish your explanation. Your eyes now staring at a bodiless bathtub full of fresh water, with swirls of red in it.

”C-Chaos H-Heart….” You finish, your voice trailing off to a soft whisper.

THU-Thump…

You let your arms drop to your sides in disbelief. The heart had found another opening, this time by your emotions. It had taken advantage of your emotional loophole, and went after what was the biggest threat to it. The one you loved…

It wasn’t you. You would never do that to him.

Never…

Never!

The image of Dio’s scared. No, scared was an understatement. He was terrified. And when you closed your eyes, that expression from Dimentio showed on the back of your eyelids. The bathtub overflowing, starting to soak your jeans and socks.

You needed to fix this. But could you even fix it? You stand, ignoring the tub overflowing and slowly flooding the bathroom. Your soaked socks splash in the water as you walk over to the sink, ignoring your own discomfort. You pick up the phone with shaky hands. You were having such trouble dialing the number correctly on the keypad, that you changed to your call list and clicked the forth or fifth recent call down.

You lift the cell to your ear and after a few rings you hear an ecstatic voice that didn’t match the feelings you were having right now.

”Gigi! It’s been a while. What-“

”Mimi. I fucked up badly. I need Nassy’s help, now. It’s too much to explain. Please…Please tell her it’s urgent.”

”That bad? I’ll get a hold of her ASAP. Keep your door unlocked Gigi. You better be ready to explain then.” You hear the phone click to Mimi hanging up and you drag yourself out of the bathroom. Your wet socks slush against the carpet of your guest room, and you force yourself down the steps. The house sounds oddly silent, except for the sound of what you believe is still the bathtub running. You must have forgotten to turn off the water, but you don’t seem to have the energy to bring yourself back up the stairs.

You bring yourself to the couch and work on removing your drenched socks. Your hands are shaking so badly that the simple task is more of a challenge than it should be. You discard your socks on the floor near you and you pull your legs up to you on the couch, making yourself as small as your body would allow you to.

You bring your eyes to your hands. Your hands rough with calusis from all the tinkering and hard work you did, middle class work. Though it had been a while since you had seen blood oozing from them. You shake your head.

His body was so small, so fragile. He was so easy to force under the water with your hands. It was even easier to wrap your fingers around his thin throat and start squeezing. He would have been easy to break, easy to finish off. You could snap him like the twig he was. Would anyone really miss him? Didn’t he deserve to be dead? He still attempted to go after IT. He still wanted to go after his original goal with the heart. He wasn’t a fighter, he was weak in that aspect. You could so easily break him, all you would have to do is grab his neck and snap it. He deserved that.

“Enough!” You yell to no one in particular, grabbing at your own greasy hair. Heck there were times you would have never fought those thoughts after everything he had put you through, but these thoughts weren’t your own. You growl at yourself for letting the heart dig into your thoughts and emotions over Dimentio. He confused you so much and had your emotions everywhere. You had anger towards him, frustration, confusion, annoyance, but most of all…you loved him.

Thu-Thump.

You grasp your shirt above your own heart. You couldn’t imagine a day without him anymore. You wanted to spoil him with affection that he was long deprived of. You wanted to show him what the world should have long given him. You so badly wanted to let him figure out what the true meaning of his emotions towards you were. Why did this relic have to be such a problem, and everyday you were losing more and more to it. You bite your bottom lip. You couldn’t lose to it, so many would fall if you lost. It would return to where it was taken from. It would reopen the void that you had worked so hard with your friends to close. If you could rip it out yourself and stop it from what it was made to do you would, but you were already told what that outcome would be.

A loud bang on the door causes you to jump from the couch, almost hitting your head on the ceiling from surprise. Only for the silence to be followed by the door slamming open before you can even take a step towards the entrance. The voice booming louder than the door hitting the wall or knocking combined.

“Ye here lad? We rush’t here as fas’ as we coud. Dimensoon stil’ a’ problem withoot tae wee yin crossin’ tae gap fir us.”