#the devil's proxy

[spookylittletownhq]

A HUGH EDGAR WARREN III has arrived in Albion. While they may seem STRANGE, they are connected to the WESTERLY FOOTHILLS MILTONS. Their passport was stamped at Falls’ Inn and shows that they are 34, SIX FEET FOUR INCHES, with BROWN HAIR and BLUE EYES. Mrs. Kuiper at the Inn said that they seemed OFF-PUTTINGLY HANDSOME AND A CHARMING CONVERSATIONALIST, though they were seen DRINKING FROM A FLASK as they departed St. Catharine’s Depot. Be wary, and report any sightings to Madame Lange’s Tea Room.

INTRODUCING EDDIE WARREN

The story they tell was that they left the Valley. Those they left behind have no memory of them. The truth is somewhere in the middle.

She had a gift. Peering into the future was not unique to her, but controlling it--or so they say--crossed the sacred line between Good and Evil.

Johanna Milton disappeared with Edgar Warren in the dark of night. Edgar’s wife Suzanna, filled with rage and heartbreak, died of fever three days later. And the Warrens were never heard from again.

---

Eddie’s story is best told backwards.

Now. An entrepreneur, a co-owner of a jazz club, a bootlegger. Eddie has more enemies than friends. But he has a knack for social connections, and even his enemies begrudgingly agree that he’s a charmer.

Days are nights and nights are days to Eddie. He spends his nights tending the bar of the Chipmunk Club, a speakeasy hidden deep in the bowels of Manhattan, mingling with jazz musicians and dancers and gamblers. He’d never waste the space in his sprawling bachelor pad with bathtub gin, but Eddie makes it his business to know where to get moonshine, and who wants it.

He’s a man of many talents, and he’ll crow about most of them, but the one that he keeps closely guarded is his talent for music. Piano, guitar, trumpet, a little trombone and a little clarinet, he’s been known to fill in for the bands that play at the Club.

He arrives back home in the early morning hours exhausted and exhilarated by a night of partying. A hit of heroin and he’s fast asleep until evening, when he does his bookkeeping and goes to Theodosia’s house for dinner.

“Heard from Paul?” he’ll ask.

“No,” Theo says, but Eddie knows better.

Paul called this morning. He struggles.

Theo watches Eddie watching her. She frowns. “You worry for him.”

“No,” Eddie says with a wave of his hand. She knows, he knows.

Then. Eddie was the favorite. He was the type of boy that could sit at the dinner table surrounded by adults and carry on a conversation. He could be entertaining, even contrary, much to the delight of those around him. Grandma doted, called him special. From a young age, he found out adults didn’t always say what they were thinking, but he knew Grandma told the truth when she said he was going to be amazing.

Eddie wasn’t very good at school, but that was okay. He didn’t need books to take over the family businesses. Father taught him everything he needed to know, and Eddie never wasted an opportunity to make money.

He might not have been very smart, or good at math, but he knew how to mingle and socialize. Reading into others’ thoughts could be fraught with problems though. He knew when someone had a crush on him, he knew when someone was angry with him, he knew secrets he shouldn’t tell--sometimes he had trouble knowing what he was told, and what he heard. Betraying the trust of his friends became a commonplace mistake, and enemies were made. He was incapable of maintaining close relationships and therefore didn’t. His closest ‘friends’ were more like business partners--Al and Jimmie.

Theodosia and Paul were his younger siblings. Theodosia was just as eager as Eddie to be noticed and adored, but she was often overlooked. So she did things her own way, leaving the family as soon as she could to go to college (much to Mother’s despair). She met and married a real estate magnate, and stayed in the city.

Paul was another story. Grandma used to say he must have been born with a sour lemon in his mouth. Theodosia minded him when no one else would, after Father and Mother passed in that car accident when Eddie, Theodosia, and Paul were just kids.  A sickly child, Paul watched the world go by from the window, rarely able to enjoy the outdoors due to asthma. He read books. Did math. Wanted to be an accountant, but life had other plans--June 1917, Paul got a draft letter. He passed the physical, somehow, and was sent to London, then France, and came back in January of 1919 broken. On Christmas Day, artillery fire struck his camp, paralyzing him.

Eddie tried to help, but Paul refused, preferring to stay with Theodosia and her husband, until finding his own flat. He agreed to work for the Club, doing the books for a salary, but he rarely talked to his brother.

Future. The strange letter, opened and left at the dining room table, must have been some sort of mistake. Or a joke. But was it? Grandma and Grandpa moved to New York after they got married in Pennsylvania. Sometimes they would mention a Valley, or maybe that was something Eddie heard when he shouldn’t have.

Waking at sunset wore on him. All the drinks and the sleepless nights wreaked havoc on his body. The air in the city seemed dirtier and dirtier as the years went on. Eddie was even beginning to grow tired of jazz.

He needed the change.

---

Welcome to the valley! Please send in your account within 24 hours. 💚

[raayllum]

I love rune cube placement foreshadowing, it's my favourite

[rometabss]

succession (2018-2023) / interview with the vampire (2022-)

[stereax]

tuna :')

[fandoms-spamdom]

what if this whole time Yoshida made a deal with the death devil so he could transform into chainsaw man and for each kill it helps his life or health or something like that and all the kills go to death devil which is why he’s so centered around death and we hear him mention things like that so often

HONESTLY I HADN’T CONSIDERED HIM MAKING A DEAL WITH THE DEATH DEVIL

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

christ every time i rewatch devil's trap it's like oh here we go again every member of this fucking family wants to fuck each other

[affinityforanime]

Chiho from Devil is a Part Timer and Tomoe from Seishun Buta.

[edwardian-sea-witch]

Broke: “I was born in the wrong decade!!!1!!!”

Woke: “I was born in the only good decade and come hell or high water my children will enjoy Gilligan’s Island and The Monkees just as much as I did.”

[m-blackwell-and-associates]

Follow Up pt 5

“He might have been more useful alive, Ms. Rosselini,” Angelina said, sounding disapproving of Diana's protests and indifferent of her discomfort. 

The woman clenched her fists, standing just out of reach of the grasping and vengeful spirit.  “The mission was compromised, Donna Angelina. Even using family resources to transport a near dead man from our basement would have drawn more attention that was necessary thanks to the problems his little princess had already created for us.  Nicky would have done the same in disposing of our unexpected guest.”

Nicky, Angelina thought, would have put a bullet into the man as a safeguard from sudden recovery or rescue.  Nicky would have then proceeded to put a bullet in everyone in the building and she was certain Diana Rossellini knew that, giving Diana’s final call on the matter a tinge of self preservation rather than protocol.  However, having chastised the Proxy sufficiently, she reeled in the wrathful wraith, giving her sullen cousin space to breath and be thankful for her life.

“Simon Boucher,” Angelina said, focusing on the spirit.  Its attention now turned to her, it shrank back into human proportions, once again clear and calm and sad.  “We regret that you have come to this state.”

“You are like her,” he whispered again. 

“I am,” Angelina agreed.  “Did you see the ones that attacked you.”

“No.  I didn’t.”  A ghostly hand went to the pockets of his clothing. Searching.  “They took the rosary from me.  They knew we were coming, even though Elizabeth said it was safe.  Is she safe?  Did they kill her too?  I can’t find her.”

“She’s safe with her brother, Mr. Boucher.  She left France unharmed.  What can be done for you?”

The resigned spirit of Simon looked at his bones under Anglina’s gentle hands.  “Tell my family.  Don’t let them wonder what happened.”

“I can do that for you, Mr. Boucher.”  Angelina glanced meaningfully at Diana and tipped her head to the door, indicating that the Proxy needed to find the absent medical examiner in order to prepare the bones for travel.  Diana, sullen to be dismissed, wisely left without a word.  The wraith of Simon didn’t notice the accessory to his murder leaving, starting transfixed at his own body.

“Is this what happens when you betray someone?  Am I in hell?”

The notion amused Angelina.  “You aren’t in hell, Mr. Boucher.  Whom did you betray?”  The spirit flickered for a moment, the way a warning ripple might go through a swarm of bees.

“He paid me to bring him the rosary.  Elizabeth said he was going to kill me if I did.  But then I died anyway.”  Angelina could feel the sadness in the bones. “Did Elizabeth have me killed?  For the rosary?”

A child, even one in the shadow of  Nicky’s influence, could not possibly have orchestrated such a thing and she said so.  “This might have been simple accident of chance, Mr. Boucher.  Whom did you betray?”  She leaned into the question, urging the wraith to answer truthfully.

Again that ripple as the words were bent unwillingly from the wraith.  “Vincenzo Giovanni.  He paid...my…our Order…to find things for him.”

Angelina shared a quick look with Pietro, her cousin and enforcer becoming grim to hear the news.  “Does Vincenzo live here in Grenoble?”  While a common enough family name, there were only so many that had gotten the Kiss and she could account for each one of those and the territory they were allowed to operate.

“America.  The rosary is gone.  How do I make amends so I can go to Heaven?”  Simon’s voice was beginning to go hollow, an abyssal wail.

“I will help you, Mr. Boucher, but you will have to wait.  We’ll move you out of this place to one of sanctuary.  You will be safe and soon on your path to redemption.”  Angelina poured all of her sincerity into the words, lifting her hands off the bones and letting the mournful spirit of Simon Boucher fade back across the Shroud.

She stood there quietly for a moment, Pietro coming alongside.  “If it is the same Vincenzo that tried to gull the Butcher’s little China Doll…”

“Then you might have to keep me from killing him, Pietro,” Angelia interrupted, more abruptly than she intended.  Her enforcer smiled, a smile full of warmth and charm.

“I am conflicted, Donna, although I might just hold your coat for you.  For the insult done your office if nothing else.  But,” the smile faded as he crossed his arms.  “The way he dallies with business not his own, you might have to wait your turn behind prior complaints.  How does he hold his position the way he burns these bridges?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Pietro.  And,” she added more quietly, seeing Diana escorting the uneasy medical examiner back into the room.  “When we get back to the villa, I want to talk to you about your Proxy.”

[gab-has-adhd]

BLORBO BY PROXY LMSKSSBUS REAL

:)))

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Due to my obsession with the devils from abbadon (Phenix is underrated). I DEMAND (kindly ask) you to hand over all your headcannons about them.

Since you're asking so politely, I shall give it to you

Abaddon headcanon (Tw: Abaddon)

Since Abaddon is THE sex dangeon of all of Hell, and you can see public sex everywhere, I think that the people in Abaddon don't have the concept of consent. Everyone already wants to fuck and doing it in public with strangers is just the norm, so if any Abaddon nobles got a boner they'll just get undressed and fuck you right then and there

If we want to get really dark, we could even say that cries for "stop" and "no" are just taken as dirty talk. You can't tell me someone in Abaddon isn't into cnc.

Asmodeus likes seing his subjects fuck so he invites his nobles over and uses his powers to get them to rail eachother for his entertainment. Who needs porn when you can just make two of your people fuck for you?

Weirdly enough, Abaddon demons are actually very interested in romance. Their king was the only one that had a wife and kids, so they can do more than just fuck

Even someone like Phenix can be quite romantic when Asmodeus is asleep or something.

When Paradise Lost first became the ER of hell, it was filled with Abaddon demons because a) they're neighbouring countries b) they try very dangerous stuff for sexual pleasure and it usually fails

Abaddon was the first to lose healthcare priveledges and that's why Asmodeus and Lucifer don't talk with eachother.

Now they only have Marbas as the countries doctor

Marbas used to be just a normal demon before he was assigned to Abaddon. Since he was exposed to more of Asmodeus' charm, he started acting more violent and horny, so Lucifer had to tie him up

Asmodeus' charm is kind of like nuclear energy, where, the longer you're exposed to it the worse the symptoms get. And then you end up like Phenix.

The noble with the most one night stands to his name is Ronové. You can randomly ask a devil what their experience with Ronové was like and they'll have a story about it

Asmodeus used to take Ronové to meetings with him as an assistent, but he kept talking about how beautiful amputated feet are so Asmodeus gags him now.

Masturbating is a form of prayer towards Asmodeus.

Asmodeus is autistic and his special interest is sex. He's also a strong believer in learning by doing

Phenix was Asmodeus' caretaker when Asmo was little and that's why he's the most affected by his charms.

Asmodeus is the only demon in Abaddon that you can have a conversation with that doesn't involve sex. He'll still flirt tho

Abaddon demons can heal by having sex, which is how Dantalian got his kink

He got really badly wounded and was about to die before Phenix fucked him and his wounds closed off enough that he could walk himself to Paradise Lost

In that sense, Abaddon demons are healers but only to other Abaddon demons

Abaddon is the top honey moon destination in Hell.

The country they're closest to is Avisos because they have similar views on sex.

Asmodeus is the only demon king that can go to the human world at will without any complications. Even Satan gets shit for leaving for half an hour, but Asmodeus could be gone for days and nobody would complain.

He's closest with Belphegor but only by proxy. They're not friends, but they don't hate eachother so that's a plus in his book

None of the other kings really like him because when Asmodeus wants something, he would do anything to get it. And I trully mean anything. Nobody trusts this charming little back stabber.

Asmodeus has a statue of his former lover in the royal garden. If anyone tried to touch it he would brake all the bones in their body. He sometimes just stares at it and laments her death

He wouldn't even let the decendent of Solomon touch it. That's his wife and you can go find another.

He still has the makeshift wedding ring on his finger and he plays with it when he's bored. When Dantalian was little he stole it to try and get in danger with Asmodeus, but he almost shat his pants when he saw the absolutely terrifing glare Asmo had on.

When there's no battles to be had, Phenix goes to Asmodeus's chambers and humps his leg like a bitch in heat. Asmo sometimes picks him up on his lap and jerks him off while he works.

He'd be on a phone call like "Don't worry about the screams, my dog's in heat."

All electronics in Abaddon are waterproof... or more specificly, cum proof.

Ok wow, fuck this was longer than expected and I still have some. Abaddon is my second favorite country and we'll see if it because the first by Christmas.

[stereax]

go watch the video, it's actually quite funny!

[matan4il]

Daily Update post:

After four hostages were released, there are still 220 in captivity. Among them are about 30 kids and at least 20 elderly people. We've been seeing people tearing down their posters in cities around the world. Now there's a new low. In London, the posters were vandalized, and these Jewish victims were given "Hitler mustache" and devil horns...

Also, calling those Hamas terrorists, who murdered babies, who raped and then killed teenage girls, who handcuffed and shot elderly women, "real men" is another sign of a broken moral compass.

In New York City, Jewish students had to take refuge in a library for 40 minutes, for fear of a "pro-Palestinian" mob.

In Los Angeles, a man broke in the middle of the night into a Jewish family's home, shouting antisemitic and anti-Israel abuse, declaring (according to the mother) that he was going to kill them.

One of the more poignant message I'd seen about the horrible reactions justifying the massacre of Jews in Israel:

As the United States has been under more attacks by Iran proxies, the assessment is that Israel's ground operation in Gaza won't begin, before the US has more defense measures for its own troops in place.

In the meantime, Hamas and Hezbollah continue to fire rockets into Israel constantly, and the number of Israelis displaced from their homes continues to grow. The residents of kibbutz Nir Oz, just one Israeli town, where about a third of the population has been murdered, were told that it will take at least two years to restore their agricultural community.

Lastly, a personal story. Michal Admoni was a disabled woman living in kibbutz Nir Oz. Her son Guy was staying with her on Oct 7, because she was feeling unwell. He wouldn't leave her even as Hamas terrorists attacked and murdered both of them.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[ghouljams]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe9tGXnq/

Imagine in another universe Price and Witch were enemies (turned lovers) but Witch would dress like this. What if she was a part of a futuristic coven tasked with eradicating the Fae race. She was power and cruel and liked harnessing the magic of fae for her own use (basically their roles reversed since Price liked eating Witches for funsies before he met Lio)

I actually... I actually have a partially written Witch and Price as sexy enemies fic written. It's from way back when I wrote Love escaping Ghost, the little bad end fic. Well this was from Love going to Witch, not Price to be let out of Ghost's hold, thus making Witch a target for the 141 as they try to get Ghost's pet back...

Anyway I love Witch as cruel and unyielding, relishing in her power rather than measuring it out, wearing iron like a brand of her station. Desirable because of her power but also deeply dangerous for any fae unlucky enough to cross her path. Here she is, well, here they are:

He comes after you like the devil himself. It's lucky you're familiar with his work. You know as soon as your foot touches the street that there's magic working here, it itches against your skin and tickles in your nose. You stand still against the shift of it, weighing your options. Walking through the spell is like throwing yourself into a spiderweb, but turning tail is cowardice. You are not a coward. You're a witch.

You tug a piece of chalk from your pocket and crouch, scribing a few sigils on the cobblestone street before standing straight again to wait. When nothing happens you turn tail, and walk straight into a firm hand around your throat. 

"Rather obvious don't you think?" His voice is deep and slick with smoke. Your eyes dart up to look at the raised brow and beard.

"Your trap? Entirely too. I'd almost call it amateurish." You respond peaceably. The fingers on your throat tighten a fraction of a threat. A low growl rumbles through him, through you. Maybe more than a fraction of a threat then.

"You're a witch."

"Clearly," you agree. He must have meant you, yourself, are rather obvious. You've heard that before, recently too.

"We have business," he tells you, you raise a brow waiting to be filled in on what that business might be. When you don't rise to his bait he growls, and shakes you. "The girl, where is she?"

"What girl?" You know your tone must anger him, too even and unafraid. The devil always rules by fear if he can't rule by trickery. You haven't been afraid of the fae for years, not since you were a little girl, and you aren't about to start again.

The man shifts his grip, grabs your face in one large hand and squeezes. He holds your face with a firm grip, his fingers digging harshly into your cheeks. You wince and try to pull away from him. He keeps you in place, leaning close to breathe his smoke into your face. You do your best to smack a hand over his mouth, the other digging through your pocket for anything to help. Your mouth goes dry as you inhale, heat pooling between your legs with little prompting.

"Tell me what I want to know pup," the fae drags his thumb across your lip and you feel like you're made of mush.

Tobacco, you think. Your magic knows it well enough to anchor itself to it, giving him a buffer for his own magic. You suppose two can play that game, though you don't need a proxy to get your point across. You let magic coat your tongue, feel the spark of it as you shape your lips around silent vowels and consonants. The man leans closer to try and hear you. You spit in his face, and when he opens his mouth to snarl at you, you spit in that too.

"You little-" all the warmth is gone from his voice, though the low danger of it keeps the heat in your skin. Something to examine later you suppose.

"Dos oddi wrthyf," you curse at him, cutting him off. He rips his hands from you like you've burned him, magic taking hold of his movement in a second. "Damn bastard," you spit his smoke onto the ground, watching his eyes burn as they follow the movement of your lips.

You're well warded against men like him. Demons by a different name. He'll have to do better than that if he wants to take hold of you. The foreign contagion still buzzes over your skin, still warms tight between your legs; you'll have to scrub it off later, purge his foul magic from your body before you do anything else. You bare your teeth at him just to see his eyes narrow.

"You'd be smart to help me," He warns. You laugh, let the sound bounce off the stone walls that cage you in his magic. Your smile drags against your teeth.

"Then beg."

Something shifts in his demeanor, something hot burning through the ice that covers him, that freezes in his eyes. It raises smoke from the very cobblestone you stand on. Sulfur and Brimstone burn in your nose, and you drag a scarf from your pocket to press the embroidered silk over your nose and mouth. You don't cough, but you desperately want to, it seizes in your chest and threatens to choke you. Your eyes water like standing on the wrong side of a campfire and when you blink he's gone.

The fae's hands drag you back against his chest, tip your head back as you struggle for a breath. He breathes that tobacco rich smoke over you again, and you shut your eyes against the sting of it. "We'll find her," He promises, "and when we do, I'll be sure to send you a piece." His voice dissipates with the smoke, and when you open your eyes you find yourself alone, facing the open air of the street with the dead end of an alley at your back.

You push down the sinking feeling that you may be out of your depth, and step back into the light.

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 1)

Reader-insert & Whitebeard Pirates

Master Post for series.

Warning: (Platonic) yandere behavior, physical injury, blood, and kidnapping. If any of these make you uncomfortable (especially yandere content), you should not read this or any following parts.

Please block the tag "oh sweet child of mine" if you are uninterested in this story and "one piece yandere" if stories like this make you uncomfortable. For everyone else, please do remember that as sweet/touching as this behavior is or can be, it is deeply toxic and troubling in real life. Anyone that treats you with such disregard in terms of your boundaries or respecting your decisions should not be tolerated.

Please stay safe and have fun.

Word Count: 2,880

Devil fruits in the marines has always been handled a bit oddly. On paper, no low rank has a devil fruit. Because having a devil fruit tends to make even weak humans stronger, even if under highly specific circumstances. But you can’t just promote people because they ate something weird. They have to earn their position. This problem is handily solved by… ignoring the issue entirely.

Strong marines will, eventually, be promoted. So it stood to reason that strong marines with powerful abilities will be promoted even faster.

You were, however, of the opinion that there should be some sort of allowance made for marines that just can’t handle power without it going to their head.

Those people should scrub toilets until they learn at least a bare minimum amount of humility.

Why would you, of all people, have that opinion?

Because you got to watch, in real time, how quickly people given power without earning it lose their damn minds. It was, in fact, your own devil fruit’s power to ‘dial up’ other devil fruits. Just being near you had this effect. No, no one had any idea what your devil fruit was supposed to be called. Apparently, it was one of the few not in any encyclopedia on the subject, so you didn’t even know your own limits by proxy.

If you had the choice to go back in time you would never have eaten that weirdly flat yellow fruit. But you were stupid and hungry and here you were. Babysitting yet another ensign who simply could not handle having stronger powers with any grace.

Ensign Williams had a candle-candle fruit. Basically, a very weak version of the logia fruit flame-flame. His fire would always be weaker, smaller, and easier put out. Until you showed up, wherein he was capable of fairly impressive feats. In fact, it had been a full week and Williams went from being in awe of what he could now accomplish with you by his side to fully up his own ass with his ‘rightful power’. Unfortunately, he was your partner for the time being, so you just had to try and reign in his ass-ness before he burned the town to the ground by accident.

Mostly this involved walking away when he started being a prick to the local townsfolk to remind him that this ‘grand power’ he held was, in fact, only possible with your presence. Trying to physically stop him just got you a bloody nose. So, wounding his ego was the best you could do for everyone involved. Usually, you excused this by a sudden, burning need to pet a dog or cat or sufficiently friendly bird. They, at least, appreciated your presence and efforts.

“I’m going places, you know!” Williams declared in a huff, running up to you as you scratched a dog’s ears. Really ruffling the floppy appendages around as the dog panted and drooled in happiness. “The marines will see that I deserve a promotion soon enough with all the good work I’ve been doing!” You gave him a dry look.

“You depend on your devil fruit too much. What are you going to do when that’s not enough? I won’t always be around, you know.” You reminded him gently, feeding the mutt a milk bone from your pocket as you stood up. “This is the Grand Line. Eventually you’re going to run into a Yonko or something. What then? You think Red-Hair or Big Mom will care about a little fire?”

Williams paled at the suggestion, reality peaking in through his delusion before, with herculean effort, it was pushed back once again.

“And what about you, huh? Your devil fruit is useless for yourself! You’re a weak, useless thing on your own!” Williams sneered. You stared at him, unimpressed.

“That’s what training is for. Which is what I would be doing if I didn’t have to run around with you all the time.” You sighed. The big folks up top wanted to see just how much power you could give a weak devil fruit, likely in preparation to assign you to someone with a devil fruit user actually noteworthy. If there were side effects, they didn’t want an admiral to be the first to face it, after all. Personally, you were hoping for someone like Smoker. Reasonable, experienced, and well known for his skill outside his devil fruit.

Although, you were starting to think this delusional mindset was the side effect. Natural or induced, the people you gave boosts to often had a period of euphoria and increased aggression, narcissism, and short-sightedness. Hard to say since, so far, everyone you’ve been assigned to has been an asshole.

Possibly a marine-specific issue.

“Bring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-rin—clack!” You answered the bored snail in your pocket.

“Ensign—”

“Fire Fist Ace has been spotted in your area! You and Ensign Williams are to attempt apprehension. No other Whitebeard Pirates have been spotted but be advised there are likely more—possibly another commander. If you see them, flee on sight.” They hung up immediately before you could even respond. Sighing, you looked up at Williams.

He looked strangely pale before gathering himself, a smug smirk quickly taking over his features.

“Hah! See that? They already know I’m going to accomplish great things. This will be only the beginning of my legacy as a marine!” Williams grabbed you arm and started running down the street, looking around like a madman for ‘Fire Fist’, jostling your glasses hard. They nearly flew off when he spotted a column of fire across town and yanked you with him. “Watch as a real marine works, useless!”

Fire Fist was crouched in the middle of the street, pointing at a stand that had fallen over, his back to the both of you. Whitebeard’s Jolly Roger stark against his tan skin.

“—highway robbery prices, you’re out of your mind if you think I’d pay for something broken!” Fire Fist huffed. While it was true you couldn’t see another pirate with him, it was common knowledge that Whitebeard Pirates rarely travelled alone. Especially a commander.

“You sure you wanna do this—”

“Halt, filthy pirate! Your days of piracy are over!” Williams declared boldly. Briefly, you wondered if maybe your superiors had heard about Williams’ behavior and figured sending him after Fire Fist would be the best reprimand he could get.

Even with your help, Williams was a candle-light at the end of the day. And Fire Fist? Fire Fist was a raging wildfire. You could almost feel the heat of his devil fruit in the back of your head. A faint indication that told you just how strong the devil fruits around you are and helped inform you how much power you were giving just by being around them.

Fire Fist looked back at the two of you with a dry, grumpy expression. Curiosity flickering over his features as he took in how amped up Williams was—and how utterly done you were. Fire flickered over his shoulders as he grinned.

“And what is a couple of ensigns going to do about it?” Fire Fist crowed with a mischievous grin, tipping his gaudy, orange cowboy hat back. Williams’ fire flickered over his body, sparks flying harmlessly over you—a welcome side effect of your devil fruit boosting another thankfully—before charging forward.

Three things happened at once.

Williams charged forward to fight Fire Fist. Letting go of your wrist.

His fire flickered slightly from the loss of direct contact with you.

Fire Fist’s own fire flared up at the sudden, unavoidable boost in power.

Confusion washed over Fire Fist as he instinctively noticed the strange change before he dismissed it, charging towards Williams anyway.

You rolled your eyes, pretty sure Williams would get knocked out quickly and leave you with yet another mess to clean up.

A low wine reached your ears, drawing you gaze away from what was mostly an impressive lightshow as Williams kept throwing fire at a man made of fire.

A fat, white dog panted in the shade. Scraggly white fur otherwise clean despite laying in the dirt. A strange, immaculate crescent shaped moustache curved under his nose.

Obviously, between your partner facing a Yonko Commander and a sad dog, your choice of who deserved your attention was clear.

You kneeled down with a smile, pulling out a dog treat from your pocket.

“Hey, cutie, what are you doing? Trying to cool off a little?” You spoke softly, presenting the treat to the very interested dog. You pulled out a bottle from your other pocket and a bowl—specifically for this actually—as you poured some out for the dog. The dog rolled onto his paws and eagerly drank the water, accepting your gentle affection. “You’re definitely not a stray, but you don’t have a collar either. Where are you from, baby?”

Fire and explosions rocked the area behind you. Not that you cared since the civilians ran the minute Williams and Fire Fist lit up. You scratched the surprisingly soft fur and ran your hand down the dog’s back. They were definitely well cared for, whoever they belonged to. Once they were done drinking water they eagerly wriggled into your lap for affection, licking and nipping at your chin.

“Oof! My, what a cutie you are!” You cheered, playfully ruffling the dog’s ears and booping his wet nose as you avoided the eager kisses.

Williams definitely screamed behind you in panic.

“Help me, you useless—SHIT!”

Without looking you yelled back.

“I thought you were supposed to be a ‘real marine’?” You lowered your voice when the dog whined and kissed his nose as an apology. “Sorry, baby. He’s just been an ass all week and I think he could really learn something today. What could a ‘useless marine’ do anyway, hm? I told him he needs to watch it.” You grumbled softly. The pull of a third devil fruit registering to your senses suddenly.

Having been around Williams all week as he showed off was exhausting. Now actively pulling on your power along with Fire Fist and this new person actively made you want to take a nap.

You had yet to figure out how to lessen your own power or at least focus on only one person, so you simply had to deal with it when actively boosting someone from a distance. Part of you worried that boosting stronger devil fruits was going to be even more exhausting than the weak ones you’ve encountered so far. And you might actually be right about that.

“There you are, Stefan. Oyaji was looking for you.” Someone spoke up above you. You startled, looking up at the stranger.

Open-toed sandals and capris with an open purple shirt exposing defined abs and a purple Whitebeard Jolly Roger. The man looked down at you with amused blue eyes narrowed, blond hair poking out from the top of an extreme undercut.

Marco ‘The Phoenix’.

Welp, that’s definitely your sign to run. Casually. So, he doesn’t suspect anything.

Something told you that your bosses would be pissed if the Whitebeard Pirates got a free power boost by ransoming you. If they gave up the obvious benefits of such a prisoner to begin with.

“Oop. Time to go, baby.” You kissed Stefan’s head and darted away, running directly towards the very explosive fight between Fire Fist and Williams. Snagging the back of his collar as you kept going.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU USELESS—”

“The Phoenix and Fire Fist are here—we definitely can’t take them both in. Time to go!” You explained as you ran.

“No! I can do it! What do you know, you useless bitch?!” Williams flailed, breaking your grip on his shirt before slamming his fist into your face. Heat and a crunch of bones sent shockwaves of red and blood across your vision, sending you to the ground with a yelp. Your glasses bouncing off from impact and cracking.

“Fuck!” You hissed, clutching your nose as you blindly looked around, tears falling down your cheeks. You could make out an impressive explosion of fire somewhere ahead of you through your tears and poor vision. A wobbly white blob trotting up to your side with a low wine and bark. What was probably Stefan licking your arm and pawing at your side in worry.

Steady footsteps clacked along the paved street, a dark shadow falling before you as fire exploded behind the figure.

“That was quite a hit. You alright?” The Phoenix asked as he lowered down suddenly. Glass scrapped against the ground. Your glasses were gently lowered onto your face, bringing him into focus with a hairline fracture and tears obscuring your vision somewhat.

“’M fine—not the first time he’s done that--!” You gasped as his fingertips brushed over your knuckled grasp on your bloody nose. Blue fire exploded around you as the various aches and pains were swept away in an instant. Dizziness rushed to your head at the sudden relief.

You almost broke contact as The Phoenix cursed his sudden, uncontrollable fire, falling back to the ground. But his hands were faster and firmly grasped your shoulders.

After several, bizarrely euphoric moments of bathing in the healing flame, The Phoenix wrangled his powers back under control with a grimace. Blood still covered your hands and face but the injury, as well as any other injury, was gone. He looked at you in surprise and you could only gape up at him.

Having established physical contact, any boost others experienced was gone in an instant. Your ‘pseudo-immunity’ to devil fruits meant that your body essentially acted like it was your power as well. And that meant you got to enjoy a small taste in what it was like to have a devil fruit like The Phoenix’s for as long as he maintained that contact. It was weirdly heady. Sort of freeing to feel your weakness being eaten away under the healing influence of his devil fruit.

Almost to the point of forgetting that this, quite critically, meant that your under-powered partner was royally fucked.

Williams barely stood a chance if you had held his hand through the fight. Without any assistance against Fire Fist Ace, it wasn’t even a question. As much of an ass as he was, he didn’t deserve to be killed.

Worried, you tried to look around The Phoenix to see what was happening. He clicked his tongue, pulling your chin back to look at him. His eyes were narrowed and suspicious, a strange light in his eyes as he gave you a small, chilling smile.

“Now, who are you and what was that?” The Phoenix demanded. You shuddered, noticing how oddly quiet it was behind the pirate.

“M-My devil fruit! It—uhm—affects other devil fruits?” You lamely explained as Stefan tried to nose his way onto your lap. You would have preferred to look at the cute, needy dog, but The Phoenix looked like he was about to eat you. “Makes… makes them stronger around me. O-Or just… touching.”

A cold chill went up your spine as he grinned.

“And you’re not assigned to at least an admiral at all times? What a waste… I guess the marines don’t want to keep you that badly, do they?” He clicked his tongue again. “Well, you’re in good hands now, yoi. Let’s get you cleaned up. Stefan! Down!” He ordered, lifting you over his shoulder as you yelped, scrambling to hold onto your glasses. The town was wrecked behind The Phoenix, Fire Fist cheerily skipping up with Williams over his own shoulder.

“Hey, Marco! Did you see how weird that was!? What do you think his devil fruit is?” Fire Fist asked. The Phoenix turned around with a huff.

“Put the marine down. Got the source right here.” He responded.

“Oh! I take it we’re keeping them? Think Oyaji will mind?”

The Phoenix snorted.

“Oyaji will be ecstatic. Marines don’t know how to take care of people right, anyway.” You were jostled lightly as he started walking, Stefan trotting behind while panting happily up at you. You were horrified and nervous, but the addition of Stefan was helping ease your nerves. “They can boost devil fruits but wasn’t assigned to an admiral, can you believe that? Just a weakling. Imagine if it was someone else that found them, yoi?” You struggled to push yourself up, but was aware that you weren’t getting down unless The Phoenix let you.

Unlike Williams, you knew your limits.

“Hah! Wow. At least Gramps could have trained them up safely. Marines are stupid though, so I can’t say I’m too surprised.” Fire fist declared. Boots stomped on the ground as Fire Fist rounded The Phoenix, poking his head to look at you with a charming grin. “Don’t worry, you’re going to love it here! Ah… and no one will do this again.” Fire Fist grabbed your hands, inspecting the blood and what was still smeared around your nose. His eyes dark with promise as you stared in horror.

Were you being kidnapped for your power or… something else? Because to be honest, it sure didn’t sound like they were too interested in your own devil fruit ability.

[servantofthefates]

Tarot Combinations for Health Issues

Tarot can help pinpoint hidden health issues. But in most areas, it is illegal for a tarot reader to give medical advice to clients. So if such topics do show up in the cards, all that a tarot reader can do is alert the querent of a possible problem and strongly suggest that they see a doctor for confirmation.

Nine of Cups reversed + The Devil

Abdominal or digestive issues

Temperance reversed + Five of Cups

Blood or chemical imbalances

The High Priestess + Four of Swords reversed

Respiratory diseases

Five of Wands + Death

Musculoskeletal problems

Eight of Wands + The Moon

Bacterial or viral infections

Four of Wands + Two of Swords

Undetected food allergies

The Empress reversed + Eight of Swords

Female reproductive issues

Four of Swords + The Chariot reversed

Male reproductive issues

The Star + Five of Swords

Poisoning (e.g., Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy)

Three of Swords + Five of Pentacles

Heart disease

The Lovers reversed + Four of Pentacles

Eating disorders

The Magician reversed + The Fool

Genetic disorders

The World + King of Swords reversed

Skin diseases

Strength reversed + Seven of Wands

Otolaryngology (ENT) or dental problems

Knight of Swords + Six of Wands reversed

Post-traumatic Stress Disorder

Two of Cups reversed + The Devil

Sexually transmitted diseases

The Hermit reversed + Seven of Swords

Malnutrition or dehydration

Nine of Pentacles reversed + Nine of Wands

Chronic fatigue or stress

The Sun reversed + Nine of Swords

Mental health issues

The Tower + Ten of Swords

Terminal illness