#who gave Lore a gun

[changeling-rin]

Shard Anon! Teleports in, hands Lore a gun, teleports out.

Lore shrieks and throws the gun as h a r d as he can. It lands in a Cucco yard, where it promptly executes several misfires in a comically overly-dramatic fashion.

One stray bullet. Hits. A Cucco.

...run.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

give me your heart, make it real

pairing: javier peña x reader

tags/cw: smut, f! receiving oral, p in v, undercover as lovers, big dick javi, no use of y/n, no reader physical description, gentle lover javi

summary: javi needs a 'date' to a party (where escobar and crew will be idk), and asks reader to help him by dressing up in a 'slutty' outfit (not his words)

a/n: okay, yes, the title is from smooth by santana ft. rob thomas (on my javi-coded spotify playlist even tho it came out post-narcos). i've only made it to s2 ep4 and slept thru s1 ep8-10, so i've been committing the crime of not knowing the lore (i am so down bad for javi it's insane)

wc: 3.8k

"I have a lead, and you're coming with me," Javi says, already ushering you out of the room.

"You can't just whisk me away - I have to ask Messina."

"Messina gave me the go-ahead."

"I still need to-" You try to walk away from him but his hand loosely holds your arm, and before you break free, Messina says, approaching from behind, "Go with Agent Peña."

It must be a good lead if she's so quick to send you off with Peña. He looks you over, and says, "You can't wear that. How quickly can you change?"

"Into my tactical gear?"

"No, into a dress."

"Whose quinceañera are we attending?"

"Funny. I have intel about a party happening this evening. You're going to be my date. I need you in a dress - the shorter the better - and makeup, lots of it."

"You want me to look like a hooker?"

"Something like that."

You expect Javi to drop you off at your apartment, but he follows you in – he tries to follow you all the way to your bedroom, but you stop him. Maybe he’s just running on instinct, not used to having a woman invite him into her home without the intention of sex.

"Go sit in the living room," you scoff, pushing him away. "Make yourself at home." You keep your tone sarcastic to avoid letting any nervousness creep into your voice.

You're not supposed to look pretty, per se. He's expecting slutty, and yet, you still worry about looking too slutty in front of Javi. You've made a conscious effort to keep every interaction between the two of you professional, and you are determined to keep it that way. While you cake your face in cosmetics, you remind yourself that you would not go to such lengths for Javi. This is not for Javi, this is for a nobler cause than landing in his good graces. You’re fulfilling your duties as an agent on a mission to stop a narcoterrorist, and that paycheck better arrive at the end of month or you’ll be forced to get on your knees for your landlord who is not quite as handsome as Javi.  

Yes, that’s right, Javi is handsome, disgustingly so. You loathe him, not for his sex appeal itself but for his awareness of such, not for the fact that he could leverage it against you, but for the fact that he thinks he can. He can.

Javier Peña sees all women the same way - not quite as objects, but conquests. Even if you're someone, rather than something, you're still someone he could have. But you don't bend to his will, at least you haven't yet, and that's the one thing you hold over him.

Your brain is logical, and holds you to a higher standard. This has nothing to do with desire, but simple facts put into an equation that gives you a clear output. Every time the illogical part of you that lives between your thighs begs for attention, your mind reminds you of your current mantra: Javi is a walking, talking, fucking bad idea.

The red lipstick and minidress are going to get you one step closer to catching Escobar, and if it means you have to be Javi's date for a night, then it's a challenge you're willing to take.

Maybe pretending to like him will be easier than pretending not to like him, which is something you've struggled to do every day for months.

It will not be, you realize, when he whistles at you from the couch when you step out of your bedroom, all dolled up.

"I'm carrying my gun in my purse," you say - an empty threat. 

"Good girl."

"Say it one more time, Peña," you warn him, pulling your lethal weapon from a tacky, dated clutch. Your grip on it is weak and the safety is on. He mirrors your gesture, lazily pointing his own gun at you.

But he keeps his mouth shut.

Between the two of you, who's the better shot? You hope you'll never have to find out.

Javi shamelessly flirts his way around the office, but his arm around your waist is purely professional as he guides you from the car, parked a safe distance away, to your destination.

"You don't speak Spanish, you respond to 'chica', and you definitely do not have a gun on you. Got it?"

"What do you want me to call you?"

"As long as it's not my name, whatever you want, chica."

"Asshole."

Playing dumb is more fun than you thought it'd be. The wandering eyes of drug lords make you feel icky, but you don't have to respond when they speak to you. You don’t have to prove your intelligence to every man you encounter, every man who will make you take on any task they can’t handle, don’t have time for, or simply can’t be bothered to do. You don't have to do shit for once.

You keep a drink in your hand as a part of the act. Party girls like you drink, right? Honestly, you’re dead set on keeping your hands full in the hopes that you won’t be given the opportunity to do a line, inevitably refuse such an opportunity, and risk being outed as someone on the other side of this war. Javi doesn't need to tell you to pour your own drink - it's a lesson all girls are taught from a young age. Training as a federal agent may have taught you sharpshooting, but your mother told you how to avoid getting roofied.

You have a tolerance built up thanks to picking alcohol as one of your favorite vices back in college, but you know how to act drunk. While you sway a little, Javi tightens his grip on your waist to keep you grounded. You pretend not to understand when he mentions to a small group of men that you might be down for more than one man tonight, he just needs to get you warmed up first. He sounds a little too comfortable saying those words, and you doubt it's just good acting. Regardless, they seem more than happy to hear about the possibility of getting in bed with you.

"What's everyone talking about?" You slur your words and smile stupidly.

"Don't worry about it, chica," Javi says with a sly look to a man you hope you won't actually have to sleep with.

You swear you see a twinkle of something in Javi's brown eyes as they meet yours.

You realize what that something is when he surprises you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, daring to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hand sliding downwards says, 'just go with it'. You kiss him back, pulling his hair as he grabs your ass. You know he's putting on a show, but his touch makes you feel something all too real.

You swear you hear a whistle, it's likely directed at the two of you but the hustle and bustle of chatter covers up what the onlookers are saying. Javi hears enough to know that his plan is working.

'Get a room,' they say.

'Do you have a spare?' he asks.

Too drunk for their own good and too horny at the sight in front of them, the leader offers one up.

Your embarrassment is real – you're not hiding a winning smile underneath like Javi is. You're directed to a bedroom, and resisting the urge to scope the room immediately, Javi lays you flat on the bed and climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head - and, making you wetter than you'd ever tell him. He's keeping you from pushing him away until the door shuts and he tones things down.

He whispers into your ear when he's sure the man who led you here is far enough away that he can drop the act for a moment, "You're going to do what I say. No questions asked. Are we clear?"

You nod, terrified and knowing he's the only one you can trust in this place. With less shame than one might expect, he shows you what to do, getting you to mimic him. He sucks on his own fingers and you follow blindly, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt and slaps his skin while bouncing on the bed just enough that it creaks, rhythmically, like you're – oh, you understand.

Then, he whispers in your ear, "moan for me," and you do. "Perfect, just like that," he says, and you're no longer praying that you don't get caught by the cartel, but that you don't get caught by Javi. "That's good, keep going," he says, and god, you couldn't stop it if you wanted to.

You've forgotten everything else he's said, so he takes your hand and slides it up your dress, slapping the skin of your thighs and then grabs your hips to bounce them up and down. You whimper at the loss of his touch - all thoughts other than 'Javi' have left your head. He starts searching the room for evidence of anything case-related, and you continue to suck, moan, bounce, slap your skin, pretend to fuck the man in front of you because he wants you to, because he told you to keep going.

You watch Javi's back - as you should. You watch his arms, the way his jeans fit perfectly, the shape of his nose as he turns to his side and you can see his profile, his focused eyes.

You imagine his eyes looking over your body, his nose tickling your skin, those jeans coming off, his arms caging you in while he's on top of you. You hope the bed's not slick with arousal. 

Don't touch yourself. But, he's not looking. Maybe you can pass it off as dedication to the cause. Don't. Don't. Don't.

When he finds what he needs, he takes what he can, receipts and encoded notes, and he shoves them down his pants. You watch him readjust. He sees, and gives you a look of 'what?'. He ruffles his hair, unbuttons his top two buttons, making himself look disheveled. Then, he licks thumb and runs in under your eyes, smudging your eyeliner and with the other, your lipstick. As if he's practiced, he wipes the excess red on his lips.

You look stunned, he looks satisfied. Everyone stares when you leave but for all the wrong reasons. They have no idea what went on in that room. Javi has no idea either. It's your own little secret.

When you make it to the safety of Javi’s car, you sigh, relaxing into the passenger seat, and he says, "Thank you. You did really well back there. I could just kiss you right now - for real."

You know what he means. It's another thank you, maybe even I'm proud of you. But he’s still giving you an opportunity. It has to be intentional. 

"Then, do it. I dare you."

He could make a joke but he doesn't, he smiles and does as he said. He kisses you, and his lips parting slightly is the offer. When your tongue meets his, he knows, he must know.

"We should celebrate," he says. "Wanna come back to my place?"

You agree, even though you should know by now that going home with Javi is risky business at best.

Javi is enough of a gentleman to offer you a drink before suggesting you move things to the bedroom. All he has is whiskey, and while it's not your favorite, you decide the liquid courage is worth the taste.

"To us," Javi says, raising his glass before tapping it against yours. Sure, you're supposed to look into each other's eyes when you tap your glass against his, but the look you share says something beyond the toast. He might as well have winked at you. The tension is palpable, and you become increasingly aware of Javi's experience in this field - he may hold superiority to you in the DEA due to his extra years working for the agency, but what intimidates you is not that, but his body count, which is surely dozens above yours.

But then again, how much of the sex he has is with prostitutes? Is he even a good fuck? Maybe that's why he pays for sex. No, you've heard rumors being passed around throughout the DEA, and unless Javi pays for reviews too, he's good, great even.

"Are you in there, querida?" His head is cocked to the side in a way that lets you know he's been trying to get your attention for awhile.

"Oh yeah, I was just thinking." 

"Anything interesting? I thought I was going to have to shake you."

"No, my mind's just…"

"Elsewhere?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Mine too." He places his glass on the table. "You did very well today. Have you ever acted before?"

"No, not really."

"You're a natural, then, because it was pretty convincing."

You think you've gotten away with it until you see the glint in his eye.

"It helps when you're… inspired," you say with a coy grin.

"Inspired? Is that what they're calling it now?"

"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing."

"You don't have to, it was pretty obvious how you felt."

It's good that you've had a drink or two because you'd be running out of the room in embarrassment if you hadn't. You're not as practiced as some of the girls he's been with, and it's probably obvious, but you're not a virgin either. You're also not an idiot. This is going in the direction you've always wanted it to - towards his bedroom.

Javi leans in, and whispers into the shell of your ear, "I didn't give you the tour of my apartment, did I?"

His hot breath on your skin sends chills down your spine, but you pretend to be barely-fazed. "Mm-mm, you haven't."

"Do you wanna see my bedroom?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

He takes your hand and helps you up, and though you’ve felt his hands before, you notice the way one of his can envelop yours. He kisses you, soft and sweet, he kisses you, passionate and feverish, he kisses you with purpose, walking you backwards in the direction of his bedroom. He can tell you're nervous about the possibility of knocking into things so he assures you, "Don't worry. I know my way around. I won't let you get hurt."

"You come here often?"

You get a laugh out of him, light and genuine, but most of all rare. "Not as often as I should."

You find that his grip on you is looser than it was in public. There's nothing to protect you from here. It's just Peña, your colleague. It's just Javi, the man you've seen in the risque dreams you have too frequently to write them off as a misfire in your subconscious.

If someone had asked you with a gun to your head if you thought Javier Peña would be a gentle lover, you'd be dead. And if you are, then you made it to heaven.

He slides your zipper down carefully and lets you slip out of your dress, insisting on abiding by the rule of 'ladies first' when you try to unbutton his shirt. Your fingers shake as you restrain yourself against the urge to rip the fabric, so he replaces your hands with his own. His belt is gone too by the time he sits down on the edge of the bed, hands holding yours while he gazes at you in your bra and panties.

"Do you dress like this under your work clothes every day or was this for your 'costume?'"

"I wanted to do a good job playing my part. I didn't know if I'd need to take off my dress."

"But you were willing to if I'd asked you?"

"You told me to do whatever you said."

"But you could've told me to 'fuck off'. Did you want me to see you like this? Is it possible that you wanted to look pretty for me?"

"You're very good at interrogations, Peña. You would make a good cop."

He keeps his laughter contained, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips when he says, "You're going to call me, 'Javi' when you're in my bed. Are we clear?"

You salute him just to push his buttons, and it works, he pulls you into his lap and holds you there. You love his tight jeans for the way they allow you to feel how hard he is right now.

"So fucking gorgeous," he mutters as his kisses trail down your neck. He undoes your bra with one hand and you brace yourself for impact, dying to feel his mouth on your newly-exposed skin.

You would never have expected his skin to be so soft. His hands are calloused and he has wrinkles between his eyebrows, but his broad shoulders are perfectly smooth. You feel like apologizing preemptively for the marks you might leave.

But Javi flips you onto your back and you see a flash of hunger in his eyes. He's wanted this for a long time too.

"When you were moaning for me earlier, I couldn't stop wondering if that's what you'd sound like if I touched you like this."

'Like this' means one hand slipping into your panties and playing with your clit while the other thumb runs over your nipple. You take a sharp inhale of breath and try not to moan loudly but end up letting out a whimper that must sound awfully pathetic.

"Even prettier," he says, as his voice gets further away and you realize he's getting on his knees.

You must be dead. You must've died at that party because this is too perfect to be true.

He places gentle kisses on the inside of each of your thighs before slipping off your panties.

"Javi." Breathy and urgent, it’s an admission of your arousal. 

"Querida?" 

Your voice trembles as you tell him the secret you've been keeping. "When I was 'acting', I had to stop myself from saying your name."

"You were such a good girl."

His lips ghost over your clit before he presses a light kiss to your skin. You're so desperate you could cry. You let his name slip out now that you're alone.

"You're still a good girl."

One finger slips inside you like a reward and his tongue circles your clit. You swear he can hear your thoughts - "I'm sorry I pulled a gun on you earlier when you called me that. You make me feel flustered all the time, so much that you piss me off". He groans into your core as if to say, "It's okay. I already knew that".

But then your brain turns to mush and all that's left is, "Javi, Javi, Javi." And his response is to put your legs over his shoulders and slip another finger inside you. He can tell you're struggling against the pleasure, gripping his bedsheets in a desperate attempt to avoid tugging his hair. His unoccupied hand finds one of yours, coaxing you into holding it. The tenderness only heightens the pleasure.

"I know, cariño, just let go for me. I've got you."

The safest you've ever been is with Javi next to you. Safe enough to keep you alive, safe enough for you to cry out his name without fear. You come down from the most intense orgasm of your life, panting with Javi's hands stroking your sides before lifting your legs so he can climb into bed beside you.

Without a thought left in your head, your eager hands reach for the button of his jeans, but he stops you. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course. I'm in your bed, aren't I?"

"But your legs are shaking, querida. You need a minute to relax."

"I want you."

"I'll still be here in five minutes."

He comes back with water and a condom and you understand why women sleep with him.

He bargains with you - you drink some water and he takes his pants off. He doesn't intend to make a show of it, but you marvel at his body, now fully on display in front of you. The dryness in your mouth reminds you of the cold glass in your hand, which you down, equal parts nervous and aroused at the sight of his cock.

Javi notices the genuine concern in your eyes – surely women have looked at him with the same hesitant desire. In response to the unspoken, he strokes your cheek with a sweetness that makes you blush. "We'll go slow."

He sinks into you slowly, incrementally. His length strokes a particularly sensitive spot inside you that makes your walls tighten around him, and you can feel his hips jerk in response, self-restraint wavering as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly.

Once he bottoms out, he stops and lets you savor the feeling of being full. His lips still red and puffy from their time spent between your thighs, find yours and he kisses you with a fervor that cannot be sustained when you're both breathing so heavily.

"Javi, I need you," you whine.

"You have me."

"I need you to f–" he starts thrusting in and out of you while you speak, forcing you to cut yourself off with a moan.

The way he groans is gorgeous. He sets a steady pace and gets lost in the feeling. The urge to be closer to you takes over and he has you sitting in his lap within seconds. His hands cup your ass and allow him to move you as he pleases.

Your words in his ear are less than coherent when you bury your face in his neck. His teeth graze the skin on your shoulders and in the back of your mind you know you should worry about the marks he might leave, but the desire to be his, to remember that you had something even for a moment overtakes you. So, you throw your head back and give him access to a greater expanse of your skin.

Arousal fills you with a jolt of energy, giving you a boost in stamina, and you leverage yourself on Javi's shoulders and take over the work of sliding his cock between your wet folds, hips erratic and faltering. 

You don’t need to tell him how close you are, he can tell. He’s seen you cum before, he’s tasted it. 

"Me too," he says. It's more intense than the first one - you keep your eyes open with sheer willpower because you need to know what he looks like when he cums. There's a fair chance you won't see him like this again and you need to keep his beautiful 'o' face in your spank bank.

But what slips from his lips is not a string of curses or a wordless groan, but your name. It sounds even better when you hear it again during round two, and even better when it follows ‘good morning’. 

[diejager]

Hello, i see that you're now taking requests, if i may ask, could you continued your human reader x hybrid COD men, please? I dont have any specific idea about the lore, i just want to see more of their interactions. If you're not mind or bussy of course, regardless, thank you!

Only Human pt.4

Pairing: Monster TF141 + Horangi & König x reader

Cw: wound/injury, fussing, overprotective behaviour, sneaking out, drinking, hangover, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2,9k Note: I wrote this on and off so some parts might not make any sense… just uh.. sorry in advance. And I’m sorry for taking so long!!

Only Human masterlist

You were ashamed to admit it, but you liked their attention, the fussing and careful scurrying around you. You liked having them put their best into caring for you, big hands gentle and small hands meticulous for you, every aspect that made them so big and dangerous mellowed down to the danger of a small pup, harmless and adorable —they clung to you like bright-eyed and lost pups anyway, especially Soap, tapping into his inner wolf and acting as one more often than he did as a man when you got soft and cuddly. They were careful around you when you were wounded, you were human while they were hybrids with strength rivaling an army. You were slightly bothered that you couldn’t treat yourself, having a fellow medic patch you up with skilful and steady hands. 

You shot her a pained smile, bordering on a wince, and she laughed, her whole body wracked with laughter when you told her your supposed embarrassing story about how you got shot by sheer chance from people who didn’t even know how to hold a gun correctly. She was like an older sister to you, more experienced and face wrinkled from exhaustion and stress, long nights in the infirmary did little for the complexion. She talked you through the process despite you adamantly swearing that you knew it by heart from reciting it over and over for the men you worked with (she knew, but who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth when the occasion to tease her younger coworker?).

König sat you through all the hissing and teeth grinding you did, biting your lip until it bled to stop yourself from making too much sound, it graced König with little whimpers and groans that he wished were from another occasion. He held your hand, feeling your smaller one wrapped around his palm, fingers slipping between his and your dull nails sink into his knuckles, the skin dried and cracked from his lack of care. And when you started grumbling lowly about knowing how to care for the few stitches she gave you and making sure you didn’t get an infection or pull them, but she pushed on, ignoring both your annoyed grumbling and König’s amusement. 

When she was done, you were free to leave when the drip emptied it’s saline into your body, a little boost or recharge depending on how you looked at it until you showered and went to bed. Saline might help tide the nausea and confusion, but without true rest, you wouldn’t heal properly. You gave it half an hour or so until it stopped, giving you ample time to relax into König’s broad figure, his body moulding to fit yours. You slumped into his chest, back melting into the warm arms that wrapped a round your, careful about the needle and your freshly-wrapped thigh. He was warm and tender, a hand smoothing circles on your good thigh, coaxing you to close your eyes in exhaustion and pain. Your body burned despite the numbness and heaviness in your limbs, your nerves fried by the lingering effect of adrenaline, hungover from it and a throbbing wound.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to rest your eyes a bit, seeing that König had no intention of moving from his spot as your big, big teddy bear. Afterwards, you’d get something to eat after a relaxing and cleansing shower, it was well deserved at this point. You wondered if Horangi or Rudy cooked you something, they’ve always had such a meticulous hand in cooking, your rumbling stomach agreed with your thoughts, mouth almost salivating at the though of food. 

“We’ll get you something to eat after, ja?” You felt his shoulders shaken with quiet laughter, hearing your stomach growl embarrassingly loudly for a room without any audience.

“I’d like that.”

Price gave you the next few days off, letting you spend your hours of rest doing whatever you liked, be it read, laze around or sleep. You couldn’t do too many physical activities without affecting your wound, too much pressure or movement could aggravate it, break your stitches and force you into a longer down time when you could get fixed up faster and get back in action much faster if you didn’t play with it. 

You used your first day following whoever you stumbled into first, limping your way around the base until you found them running drills, once through an obstacle course with it’s walls, car tires, mud-covered crawls, the ropes and the many poles they had to scale or slide. It was a separate course built for hybrids, who’s bodies were more resilient that any of their parents, built for battle and triumph, but it was placed away from the others, the instilled fear of hybrids still so present in modern days. Despite being human, you liked training with them, passing the same course they did, you did so in need of being thought trustworthy, reliable and strong. 

And since you sat out on the drill, they got competitive, snarling and growling at one another, teeth snapping and butting heads in a show of strength. It reminded you of bucks showing off their broadness, the strength and power they had over other bucks —competitors to breed. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer hilarity of seeing them hiss and snap at each other without touching or sabotaging, like little puppies fighting for one toy, which you figured would be you at the end of this squabble. 

You couldn’t remember who bested the rest, but it was amusing to watch them run through the obstacle twice, sweating, panting and gasping, knowing full well that there were other things to do after this course. You limped along them, Gaz’sarm wrapped around your waist on the way to the shooting range where you’d - once more - watch them train their aiming and work out the kinks of a new rifle. He sat you against the wall and left you to the others while he got his rifle from the armoury, asking for a second pair of earmuffs to cover your ears. 

You watched on in amusement as they scramble to best the others, testing the new rifle they were given. The knock back on the weapon was worlds stronger than the usual one, but the shot was proportional to it, stronger and packing more power that dented the cement behind it with each blow. It was a powerful gun that would be used by hybrids and monsters operators like TF141 and KorTac, used as powerful breaching weapons or in higher case scenarios. To balance the strength of it, the sound was as loud as an explosion, a booming sound that rang in your ear despite the plugs that sat protectively over your ears. Fortunately, this session lasted much shorter than the prior one and you were left to do whatever you wanted while they did their weights.

Every day was a repetitive cycle, watching them train and doing something to spend your time. On the first day, you spent the time resting, body lagging behind the others and sloppily limping around the base with your eyes drooping on occasions and your body heavy with exhaustion. You figured that you’d watch any show on the rec room’s flat screen, mindlessly watching scene fly by without absorbing it in and hoping you’d fall asleep after a while. And you did, your lids closing when you felt something heavy cover you and warm bodies wrapped around you in a strong and comforting hold.

When König went to search for you, he found you cuddling up with Ghost and Alejandro, their bigger bodies slumped into you to cover you in their warmth. Alejandro had his arm over your shoulder, wrapping around Ghost’s back, and Ghost gripped his waist, arm slipping under you to touch Alejandro, one man pulling the other closer to squeeze you between them. It looked so cozy that König was almost jealous that he couldn’t join in, but he wouldn’t wake you up from your slumber, the dark bags beneath your eyes screaming your exhaustion. 

You had more energy the next day after spending many hours sleeping and catching up on it. You were practically on your toes the moment König knocked on your door, here to pick you up before breakfast. He stared at your wide smile and jovial expression, slightly confused about your unending mirth. While he wanted to stay with you, he had to leave you under Gaz and Rudy’s care, hoping that the two could help you spend that accumulated energy. 

There weren’t many things you could do with a limp, anything labourous or physically draining was impossible wihtouthurting your leg. That left them watching you play around with Rudy’s cadejos after you begged so prettily, flashing him an adorable pout and big, doe eyes until he caved. You were rolling on the carpeted floor, laughing and cackling at the dogs, fingers carding through the white cadejo’s mane, scratching the sensitive spot behind his floppy ears. You switched between the black and white dogs, giving them an equal amount of affection, making kissing faces and ridiculous sounds that had Gaz and Rudy chuckling softly, smiles bright on their lips. 

König was glad to see you less animated, resting your head on Gaz’s lap, nuzzling against his warm hand, nosing the calloused crease of his palm, and your feet crossed over Rudy, toes occasionally curling when his fingers skimmed over a sensitive patch of skin. You grumbled in your sleep, falling in and out of consciousness, lashes fluttering until they settled, arms swung around Rudy’s cadejos like you would with plushies, but with big and dangerous monsters. König thanked them for watching you, eyes softly admiring the trio before him, petting the dogs’ perked up heads, running over their ears and ruffling their fur. When he went to pick you up, you let out the smallest whine, unhappy about being moved from your comfortable spot between everyone. 

The next two days were spent cuddling in a restless pile of wolf and tiger, stuck between two attention seeking shifters, Soap loudly whining and demanding attention, his tongue lolled out and panting loudly, unlike Horangi’s calm and subtle way of getting your affection, rubbing his body against yours and wrapping his tail around your forearm. It was a push and pull, one bark here and one hiss there, two big bodies pushing and backing up around you while they rubbed heads and pawed at your good leg. König and you got a good laugh out of it before he had to leave, his desk calling his name and the mounting load of paperwork needing his signature. 

You eventually found yourself unable to move, limbs locked between those of striped and brown paws, their tensing and flexing arms, thick cords of sinewy muscle locked together in a mess they called a cuddle pile. Pulled from whatever you could have done and stuck in a warm and soft pile that shook and shuddered, Horangi’s soft purring and Soap’s low growls coaxing you to sleep. Eyes closing under the gentle vibration and watchful gaze, you dozed off without, blissfully unaware of two big, blinking pair of eyes that glared at anyone who made too much noise (poor Rudy got the scare of his life) when they wanted to get a drink or a quick snack from the room.

You woke up on someone’s back, slumped shoulders moving in a slow trot, furred paws choking out every step to your room with a Tiger beside you and��König right behind you, his blue eyes squinted gleefully. It was all you could see of the smile that certainly curled the corners of his lips beautifully, a tender curl of scarred and jagged tissue to show his affection. You snuggled further into the mass of warm bodies, slept comfortably under caring and protective gazes that kept you safe - safer - that night.

Finally, seemingly missing the guiding presence of your captain, you had cheekily convoluted a day to sit in Price’s room with König’s help, leading you with a hand on your lower back after you insisted on walking. You were adamant that you could walk, frustrated and bored out of your mind that you couldn’t even walk around the base when all that you felt was a harsh pinch, stretch and ache of the stitched wound, the skin around it swollen and tender, and a bit of numbness in both your legs from the lack of use, being swiped off your feet and carried around for days. You limped your way into Price’s office, wearing a grin so wide it almost hurt before you thanked König with a hug, wrapping your arms around his and struggling to the couch pushed against the wall, all under Price’s arched brow and inquisitive gleam. 

“Company for the old man,” was all you’d given him, trying your luck with the grouchy captain that was often glued to his desk signing papers and pushing plans through.

While he made calls here and there, you helped read through the many reports he received from this base and the others working alongside him for the international ground, summarising them in shorter and informative pieces, a quick read of a few dozens of pages down to one or two. While working all day, you both managed to shrink the pile to half it’s original size, leaving him things only he had jurisdiction to sign and write up and you the more trivial affairs. König helped you around the base to supper, a solid arm for you to lean on when your thigh pained you too much to keep going, hissing under your breath at the stinging pain. He fussed about it, quick to pick you up and rush you to the infirmary to have it check despite it being mild and dry, stitch still intact and swelling smaller. 

Then you got sick of it, tired even, of all the fussing and overprotective behaviour. The constant looming over your shoulder, the fretting tone when they spoke to you and the constant strain on their face to not frown or wince at your grunts and hisses, it all annoyed you to the point of exhaustion. You felt as if the tables were turned, where you used to chase after them, med kit clipped to your hip and reminding them of their weekly checkups with you, you were now on the receiving end, stuck limping away from eight big and very worried hybrids. 

It almost made you feel bad for being so insistent as their medic, but they had this horrid habit of hiding away to lick their wounds despite the need of sutures or cleaning, seemingly gaslighting themselves about the severity of it. You took it better, letting them pamper and spoil you until the end of the third week: being picked up rather than walking, being fed rather than eating and being entertained rather than left alone. You were always - always - under watch in case you —what? Reopened the now closed wound? Ripped yourself a new hole when the skin had nearly closed completely? 

It was sore and sensitive, it was neither bleeding nor gaping. While you understood their concerns - as the medic of the TF- you hated the ceaseless surveillance. You’d ranted about it with your nurses, other medics that stayed on base and worked under you as aids and spare hands, and they listened feverishly whenever you were left alone, trusted by the hybrids who were acquainted by the many visits to keep you company on their own times. 

And their solution to your plight? To sneak you off base and into the familiar pub you spent your days. The girls helped you move around without your crutch, all huddled around the back of the pub with drinks and fries, chatting and laughing loudly in your drunken haze. The first round went down as easily as the second and third one, jumping from one subject to the other, random quips here and funny remarks there. You were a chatty crowd, and it didn’t help that most of you were drunk, already having your fifth or sixth beer, stumbling around and slurring your words. 

Their quickly made escape hadn’t lasted long though, perhaps an hour or two before any of the men started worrying and launched a search for you; and eventually, they did. They found you fumbling with your stuttered words, lids heavy as you stared back at Price’s exasperated frown. He sighed and mumbled lowly, the crowd around you parting as he moved in, his hands pulling you against him to leave. His hands were warm, soft despite the coarseness of his pads, lulling you to twist and turn against his chest, arms wrapping around the corded muscles of his back and nuzzled the ashy scent that lingered under his jaw with a sleepy groan.

You swore and damned the world. The lights were too bright, every sound too loud and your body too sluggish to do anything but slump against the soft couch of the TF’s rec room, stomach down and face buried between your arms. Someone was laughing - two or three voices - at your spitting words, hungover from last night and mind feeling heavy. Price was berating your for your reckless act, mindful of the loudness of his voice, keeping it low and quiet, nearly a whisper to your clogged ears. 

“Never doing that again,” you groaned, eyes squinted to keep any light out of your pulsing eyes, “Fuck.”

Price sighed. You somewhat regretted sneaking off, the guilt adding pain to your headache for worrying them so much.

“Sorry, Cap. I’ll just- ask next time.”

“If there’s a next time.”

He was angry.

“Yes, sir.”

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[firefistfiri]

MORE BILLY LORE!!

What we know so far:

He was created with lost technology (similar to Qingyi)

His previous boss who gave him the name Billy bought him off a group of drifters

He was supposed to stay in the Outer Ring but due casualties he lost his home and lost his identity...

^^ Due to this they fired him and he gained his freedom!

He used to wander alone for some time, got his guns from a "friend" and then decided to stay in New Eridu.

He used to drive a motorcycle, he used to live in a truck...

HE USED TO BE A PART OF THE SONS OF CALYDON? I wonder if they're somehow connected to his previous boss... Most LIKELY!!

I had my suspicions.. I mean look at him.. he'd fit right in.. the red biker jacket with the BOAR motive... CMON!

Speaking of Billy's past, in one of his trust events he mentioned pasts, and that everyone has something to hide, and hes no different to that saying. I really wonder... I really think about this sometimes... he's so interesting to me. Anyways, I'm so excited for when the Cunning Hares leave New Eridu to the Outer Ring cuz I know Billy will be having the heebie jeebies.. being reminded of his past...

[noemilivv]

hey! i love your stuff and think its pretty cool

just wondering if i could get a lucifer fic where the reader is like, adams sister? (lets ignore the lore for a sec) and shes like him but toned down a tad and less straight up bad. and they kinda date in heaven a bit before he falls and then shes sad and ends up falling aswell eventually and he gets all blushy flustered when he sees her again in charlies hotel and charlies just really confused

also maybe a quick flash to him mocking adam abt how he not only stole both his wives but also his sister

sorry if this is written badly i never send requests :>

this is actually rlly cute wtf

anyway, yes ofc i can write it for you, here you go!!

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Sexual References (No Smut)

“Mr. Took-Yo-Sis!”

Lucifer x Adam’s Sister!Reader

Lucifer had his fair share of significant others in his life, but there was only one that he truly loved, Y/N.

They had a relationship during his time in Heaven, which was eventually cut short as he fell not long after.

Y/N’s brother, Adam, didn’t like Lucifer, in the slightest. Lucifer had been with two of Adam’s wives, and he was not happy about that.

Unbeknownst to Lucifer, his beloved, had fallen not long after he did. But that was about to change.

Charlie, your first friend in Hell, was getting her rehabilitation hotel set up for her fathers arrival, various decor was hung, and (burnt) cookies were baked.

Charlie stood next to the door before taking a deep breath, “Okay everyone.” She said, getting ready to open the door, “It’s showtime!”

“Charlie!” A man’s voice says, you couldn’t see him, but his voice rings a bell.

“Hey da-” The blonde man runs up to his daughter, and squeezes her tightly, you finally got a good look at his face and… holy shit, it’s Lucifer.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” He exclaimed in a babyish tone, yep, Lucifer. “It’s uh, good to see you too, dad!”

Luci let’s go of his daughter after a moment, Charlie steps to the side, presenting to her father “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” She says, as confetti pops out of two of Pentious’ non working canons.

“Wait…” Lucifer murmurs, before his eyes widen.

“Y/N?!”

You grin, ‘Fuck yes, he remembers me!’ You think to yourself.

“Hi again, Luci.” You say, a wide smile present on your face, as you approach him.

You both smile at eachother, before some incoherent, awkward mumbles are exchanged, ‘Shit, I did not think this through.’ You thought. Then both just settle on giving eachother an awkward but friendly hug.

“Uh… Dad?” Charlie said, focusing both of your attentions to her, “You know eachother?”

“Oh, me and dear Y/N here go way back, we used to fling around if ya know what I mean!” Luci said, pointing finger guns at his daughter awkwardly, as she gave an awkward yet also disturbed smile, as your face flushes a bright red.

Vaggie steps forward. “Wait. Y/N? Like the Adam’s sister Y/N?” She asks, eyeing you in shock, “Heh. Yeah. A lot has happened since I fell.” You say bashfully.

Everyone kinda stares for a moment, sort of in shock, they had no idea you had a relationship, let alone you fell from Heaven, let alone you were Adam’s sister.

“So uh…” Lucifer starts awkwardly. “Who’s up for pancakes?”

Bonus Scene -

“So this is what you’ve been up to since Eden? Gotta say, you’ve let yourself go.” Lucifer jokes, as Adam attempted to toss him around. “You judging me? You’re the most hated being in all of creation!” Adam says, flying after him.

“Well you’re first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer her.” He said, putting a ‘V’ to his lips with his fingers. “Or the second.” He spoke, continuing to fly. “Or Hell, even your sister!” He said laughing, thrusting his hips back and forth, referring to what they’ve done in bed. “Bicka-chow-cho!”

“I will fucking end you!” You heard your brother scream to your (ex)boyfriend.

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Yes, Ma'am. – Final Part

pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader

warnings: flirting, kissing :O, swearing, reader lore, mentioned events from the anime/manga

overview: 5 times you accidentally run into sanji, and 1 time you plan to meet; or – 5 times you rejected Sanji and 1 time you finally gave in.

a/n: this has about an 8.3k word count! ⊙⁠.⁠☉ i tried revising and making it shorter and wound up with more words instead,, anyways, eat up! <3

p.s. requests are open for anyone interested!

part one — part two

You drank your fifth bottle of beer despite not having enough Berries for even one. It had been a bad day – the worst, you think. It had been less than a year since you started as a sea merchant, and here you were now, not a Berry to your name thanks to a band of thieves. Thankfully, they left most of your products alone, only grabbing what they needed.

You tugged your father's jacket closer to your body and pulled out the stack of wanted posters that a News Coo bird had dropped off for the town you docked at. Most were new faces, some were pirates whose bounties increased.

You had asked for another bottle when the bartender questioned how you would be paying for it. You didn't answer. He rolled his eyes and muttered as he moved onto the customer a few seats away from you.

As you looked through the bounties, someone's booming voice chuckled as they entered the pub.

"Hey! Bartender, give us your finest liquor. Today is a day for celebration!" You turned to glare at the cause of loud noise when you realized at first glance that he looked familiar. You quickly whipped your head around to look at the posters again, shuffling through them.

Just as you found the one of the pirate that had just entered the pub, someone snatched it from your hand.

You turned to find that you had caught the attention of the pirate, Nepto Edda.

You saw the poster long enough to know his bounty would be more than enough to pay for your bill and get you back up on your feet.

"Looky here, men!" He chuckled again, showing his wanted poster to his crew with pride. They laughed as well.

Edda turned to you. "What are you planning to do with these, girl? You shouldn't be messing in these parts of the turf."

He slapped the posters off your hand, causing them to scatter on the pub floor. The bartender was too intimidated to reprimand the pirate.

Despite your recent loss, you held your chin high. You turned to completely face him.

"I'd love to hear you say that after I turn you in to the Navy."

He laughed before he swung to hit you, which you quickly avoided, sliding off your seat in the process. One of his crew was about to reach for his sword when you kicked his hand down and took the sword for yourself.

He and his crew kept his distance as you held the sword between you and them. At the last second, you sensed someone behind you. Before you could turn around, their blade was to your neck, their arm around your waist to keep you in place.

You clenched your jaw hearing their captain chuckle.

Your arms quickly fell to your side as a plan came to mind, though you were surprised to find the other person at the bar jumping into action.

He had taken one of his three swords and sliced at one of Edda's crew, catching everyone's attention.

You took the chance to slice the person behind you by their leg, the blade barely grazing your neck as you got away and sliced towards their chest.

The rest of the fight was a blur with the rush of adrenaline, though you had taken out your hidden gun at some point and pointed it to Edda.

His chuckle was nervous now, unlike how it was full and confident just moments ago. Who wouldn't be nervous, being at the mercy of a gun and a katana?

"Hey, back off, he's mine." The man that had jumped into the fight was first to speak.

You let out a surprised exclamation. The man certainly had the audacity. "How is he yours? I found him out and did the hard work, I didn't even need your help."

"I've done more damage to him than you have. It's only right that I'm the one to take him in," the green-haired man justified.

"Bullshit. I don't abide by that logic."

"Well, that's not my problem."

"I need to pay for my bill," you reasoned.

"So do I," he retorted.

"Please, it's both on the house if you just leave," the bartender, already sick of the bickering, pleaded with the pair of you.

Still, you continued even as the bartender spoke. "You wanna take this outside?" You said in a flurry of anger.

"Fine." He started to head out. You watched as he did, hitting Edda's temple with the butt of your gun to knock him out. You tied the pirate up before you quickly followed.

You settled right outside the pub, readying yourselves for a duel.

You recognized from his Three-Swords Style that you had challenged Roronoa Zoro, the notorious pirate hunter. Still, you did not prevail, taking out your own sword and placing your hand on your gun.

Before taking on the business in the seas, you had mastered the skill of swordsmanship and marksmanship, at least to your own extent.

"No guns," he announced.

"What, afraid you'll be at a disadvantage?" You knew he could most likely deflect bullets just as you could, but that couldn't stop you from taunting him.

"Fine. Do whatever you'd like."

Still, you obeyed, crouching and throwing your gun to the side. You instead equipped brass knuckles onto your now free hand.

You were now both ready, observing each other, waiting to see who would be first to offend and defend. Getting impatient, Zoro charged towards you.

His right hand rose to strike, which you quickly blocked with your sword. He pressured his sword forward, grunting when you didn't even seem to struggle upon keeping his blade away from yourself. You deflected it and stepped away as the blade swiped downwards, leaving a trail of dust as its trajectory hit the ground.

Your duel had caught the attention of a crowd, though it slowly depleted in size as your fight went on for hours.

Though you were exhausted, sweating and panting, the fight went on. You had both grazed each other multiple times, your knuckles even inflicting bruises onto his face, but neither cut a wound too deep into each other. The pub was closing and the moon had long risen by the time the bartender from earlier called your fight off, announcing it as a draw.

Reluctantly, and because the bartender had run his mouth off with scoldings, you split the bounty and parted ways. You never saw him again after that, and you were glad you never did.

* * * * * *

Once is an accident.

After leaving Baratie, you pulled out your map to head for Cocoyashi Village. It was under Arlong's reign but he allowed you to make trades with the village. As long as he got a share of your profit, of course.

You arrived every midweek to trade with the fruits they bore, most specifically the tangerines one villager named Nojiko grew. In return, you would give a few of the fruits and vegetables you traded from other villages. You would also give a few Berries to Genzo to help them pay for their monthly tributes.

For sailors and pirates of the sea, at least those with common sense, fruits and vegetables were essential to have on board to avoid getting scurvy. Naturally, you had to get the best of products to have a greater profit.

It took a few days for you to arrive. Though it was night when you did, the village seemed livelier than you had ever seen before.

Genzo greeted you as you docked your ship. He seemed to be in a bit of a drunken stupor as he called your name with joy. "Welcome!"

"Genzo, what's the occasion? I'm surprised Arlong let you have any fun," you remarked as you placed an arm around his shoulders to support him.

"You came at the right time! This marks the start of a new age in this village. We've been set free!" He announced, your eyes widening in disbelief.

"Coco's free?" You questioned for confirmation.

Genzo nodded with the grin that has remained on his face since he began to approach you. You had never seen him smile this much.

"This kid named Luffy beat Arlong into a pulp!" He then chuckled.

"Luffy?" You repeated. Genzo laughed again.

"And he had the nerve to challenge Marine's Vice Admiral Garp!" He said through his laughter.

"He fought Garp?"

Genzo nodded enthusiastically. He had begun leading you into the village at some point. "The Marines left without arresting them, though. Even if Garp could have completely beaten the kid."

"The village has been celebrating for four days now. Especially those pirates, they never seem to get tired!"

Just as he said it, you caught sight of Zoro sound asleep with a bottle of beer by his side.

"Oh. I guess it's just their captain that has endless stamina," Genzo concluded.

"Nojiko is resting, you ought to wait until tomorrow comes before you can trade."

You nodded in understanding.

"Have you eaten yet? You should try tonight's dish – tangerine garlic chicken." He grabbed you by the shoulders and led you to where the food was.

"Oh? Sounds interesting." You turned to face the person serving the food, your heart jumping in surprise as you did.

"Sanji!" Genzo had walked away to conversate with Luffy.

He had been keeping his eyes on the pan of cooked chicken as he scooped up a serving, his head suddenly whipping up to look at you as you called his name in surprise.

His eyes lit up as he called your name as well. "What are you doing here?" He was too shocked to tease you with something along the lines of, "how did you know where to find me?"

"I'm here for business, I trade for tangerines and other fruits with Nojiko. What are you doing here? What happened at Baratie?" You asked with confusion.

He shook his head and smiled, scooping a serving larger than usual to put on your plate. "I was, but I quit. I was too good for that place, anyway. I joined a pirate crew."

"You joined Luffy's crew?"

"You know him?"

You shrugged. "He pestered me at Baratie."

He chuckled as he looked away to find his captain, shaking his head in disapproval. "That idiot."

Usopp suddenly approached them, "Say, Sanji, have you eaten? Maybe you should take a break," he recommended, and something in his eyes told Sanji he was not taking 'no' for an answer.

"Hi, nice to see you again, miss Trader." He held his ground and stood with confidence beside Sanji as he greeted you with a grin.

"Likewise, I suppose, Usopp."

Usopp's confidence and courage seemed to crumble in less than a second as he cowered behind Sanji. "She remembers my name…!"

You fought an amused smile off your lips. "I'm not an ally to the Marines, there's nothing to worry about."

He didn't seem at all convinced, yet decided to trust you anyway. "A-Anyway, you should take that break, Sanji. Don't worry about the food, I'll handle it."

Sanji looked at him for a few seconds, almost reluctant, before taking a plate for himself.

"Make sure Luffy doesn't get near it – the village needs it more than he does, especially when he's had five servings and he's still starving," he instructed as he scooped himself a serving and took utensils for himself and for you. He handed you a fork and a spoon.

"Yes, sir!" Usopp saluted the chef before the latter gave him a grateful smile and began to walk away, a hand gently on your back to lead you along.

"What really happened?" There was silence on his end for a moment, so you spoke again. "I went back to Baratie the other day."

He chuckled. "Missed me that bad?"

You rolled your eyes yet a smile was on your lips. "The owner said you'd left. Figured that since I was a sea merchant, I'd be bound to run into you. That's all he said."

"Well, the old man's an idiot, he knows I'm headed for the Grand Line."

"You are?" You asked before taking a bite out of the chicken.

"Good?" He asked for your feedback.

You closed your eyes. You hated raising men's egos but you also couldn't lie. "It's the best I've had," it almost pained you to admit.

He couldn't help but chuckle at how cute you looked as you blurted it out, almost as if it were against your will that you did.

A somewhat comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

"I left Baratie because I wanted to find the All Blue." He looked at you and, as expected, you gave him a puzzled look. "It's a place where all the Blue Seas meet. You can find fish from all seas there."

You hummed with interest and intrigue. "Sounds like quite a chef's paradise."

He only smiled at you for a moment. He liked how you understood how he felt in an instant. "Exactly."

"So you're setting off to the Grand Line?"

"That's where we're headed. We just came here to get Nami." Your brows raised in surprise as you looked around.

"This is Nami's hometown?" He nodded.

"Turns out she joined the Arlong Pirates to buy her village back," he explained, "He set the price to a hundred million Berries then cheated her when she was about to reach that goal."

You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. "A hundred million?"

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Sanji laughed as well just thinking about how Nami collected a hundred million Berries in eight years. "Luffy beat the shit out of Arlong for that. Now we have our navigator back, we're headed for the Grand Line."

You could listen to him talk for hours, and so you did just that. You and Sanji talked for the rest of the night. Next thing you knew, Nojiko had awoken and approached you to trade.

Sanji helped load the crates of tangerines onto your boat, despite him usually refusing to use his hands for anything other than cooking.

"Come with me," he offered as Genzo loaded the second crate onto your boat. "Come with us."

"The Straw Hat Pirates?" You asked for confirmation. He nodded. Genzo left the two of you to talk.

You smiled and shook your head as your eyes avoided his gaze. "I'm a merchant, not a pirate."

"We're headed for the Grand Line."

"All the more reason not to go. That place is treacherous," you retorted.

Sanji suddenly had a cocky smile. "You'll miss me."

You matched his smile. "I'll live."

"You'll miss my cooking," he rephrased. You rolled your eyes again, unable to respond.

Sanji, dejected, forced a smile despite the rejection. "If your mind's set."

You only watched as he departed, hands in his pockets as he watched his feet with every step he took. You, too, watched his feet as he left. You felt like you should be doing something to get him to stay – maybe change your mind and come with him, become a pirate.

It was the first time you had made a real connection with anyone. Even before entering the business of a sea merchant, you never really clicked with anyone, platonically nor romantically. Sure, there were people who were there, but they never really felt right.

As you watched his feet, you looked curiously as they stopped, then turned around. Your eyes travelled up to his eyes when he turned.

"Maybe I'll come see you once we've left the Grand Line – once I've found the All Blue."

He spoke as if he was confident that he would leave the Grand Line. You knew the chance was small, but you decided to hope that he would leave the Grand Line, too.

"I'll look forward to it."

* * * * * *

Twice is a coincidence.

"Zoro, what's the deal with you and that merchant from Baratie?" Usopp had been the one to ask this time. The whole crew was curious, they just didn't want to pry, but the questioning and the lack of answers was getting to everyone.

"Please, just answer them. The asking is getting irritating," Nami complained as she looked at him.

They were currently strolling along a village they had come across while on the way to the Grand Line. They decided to stop by only with the purpose of buying supplies for the kitchen, yet everyone decided to come along. Everyone reckoned they needed a walk around for what they had gone through in just less than a month – what they had gone through ever since they became a part of Luffy's crew.

Zoro rolled his eyes and gave in. He told them the story of how he and you fought for a bounty, only for it to end in a draw.

Sanji smacked him upside the head as he finished telling the story of your first interaction. "You don't have a single ounce in you that's a gentleman, do you? How dare you fight her?"

"She was the one who challenged me," Zoro defended himself, facing the blonde.

"That's not an excuse." Sanji faced the moss head.

"She pissed me off."

"She had every right to after you tried claiming her find."

"You wanna take this somewhere else?!"

"Hey! Don't you dare fight or I swear, I'll knock you both out myself," Nami threatened.

At that, both men went silent. As they both turned to face the main street forward again, both pairs of eyes landed on you.

Sanji called your name again, in confusion and in surprise.

You hadn't heard, as you were in the market where all voices overlapped with each other.

"Oh, it's the bounty hunter!" Luffy exclaimed with a grin.

"Shh…! She might hear us!" Usopp covered his captain's mouth as they all kept their eyes on you.

"Her again?" Zoro groaned in frustration.

"Shut up, moss head." You were picking out fruits, picking the best ones then asking for their prices.

As Sanji watched you, a cigarette between his lips, he saw your eyebrows furrow, your eyes darting between the fruits in your hand and the merchant. Upon seeing the conversation begin to get heated, he quickly made his way to you without second thought.

The rest of the crew watched as Sanji spoke to you, still with the cigarette in his mouth. You had been surprised at his seemingly sudden appearance, though your anger quickly returned.

You spoke to him, though the crew wasn't near enough to hear exactly what you said, but all they knew was it was enough to rile their cook up as well.

Luffy scratched his head as he watched you and Sanji argue with the merchant who began to sweat anxiously. Sanji had approached you with the purpose of diffusing the tension, though he seemed to only add to it as he, too, became frustrated with the merchant and his product's pricing. His cigarette almost fell from how much he was yelling at the merchant.

"They're a perfect match," he concluded. The others agreed with hums.

"Zoro, you said you fought and it ended in a draw?" Luffy affirmed, his first mate nodding.

"Great! She's joining the crew."

"What?!" Everyone exclaimed at his quick decision making.

* * * * * *

Sanji found that the village they were now docked at was your hometown. You visited every once in a while to check in on your parents, who Sanji offered to cook for as the Straw Hat Pirates resided in your home for the day to rest.

You were one of the first to receive their captain's wanted poster, being considered an ally of the Marine despite you denying it time and time again. It was yet to be shown to the public, but you knew it was bound to appear in newspapers. It wasn't often that someone's first bounty would exceed the former highest's by 10 million Berries.

You would depart the next day and so would they, just in time to avoid having your parents seen as associates of the pirates.

Sanji offered you to join them again, telling you the captain's decision to invite you along as well.

You declined, again.

Sanji could see in your eyes that you wanted to, and not just because you wanted to join him. There was another reason that wasn't there the first time he gave you an invitation. Still, he knew he was in no position to pry.

You parted ways once again despite the both of you knowing you wanted the exact same thing.

* * * * * *

Third time's a pattern.

Only a few weeks passed when you saw each other again. You saw him first this time, almost thinking your eyes were deceiving you as he shopped for kitchen knives, while you searched for a better sword.

This village was known for their blacksmith being the best in the East Blue, so you knew to head here after earning just enough Berries.

You slowly approached him as he examined knives. He caught sight of you from one's reflection, his leg swinging towards you in defense as he was surprised. Only halfway through his action did it process in his mind that it was you.

Still, though he couldn't stop himself, you deflected his leg with your forearm. You knocked him upside the head afterwards.

He rubbed his head to ease the pain. "You are good."

You didn’t ask how he knew of your abilities when he had never seen you fight. "Thank you."

You already knew he would ask what you were doing here. "I'm looking for a better sword," you answered his silent question, "I'm thinking it's about time. I recently turned in a million bounty, anyway."

"Good job, darling." Your eyes darted to his with surprise at the pet name, a chuckle leaving your lips as you looked away from his eyes that bore into yours.

"Thank you." He smiled as you tried to hide your flushed cheeks.

"Have you eaten? I'd love to cook lunch for you." It was comedic how he didn't trust any restaurant, only offering his own cooking every time you ran into each other. He knew you only deserve the best in everything, so he always offered you his cooking.

Still, you never really refused.

You had to admit that he had every right to be cocky about his cooking skills – he wasn’t just all talk, anyway. You do believe that he was the best chef in the East Blue – maybe even of all the Seas.

After finding the right sword for yourself, you walked through the market to buy supplies for lunch. Sanji couldn't help but complain to you how Luffy had consumed a month's worth of food in less than an hour just as they had left the village prior to this one.

You couldn't help but laugh as he told the story, imagining Sanji chasing Luffy around their ship and pleading to Nami for a lockable fridge. After buying meat and vegetables, you started to head back to the boat.

Luffy was more than delighted to see you, Usopp still a bit skeptical (it was only in his nature), and Nami welcomed you aboard. Zoro was asleep.

Sanji cooked lunch for you, making something special for you and Nami as well as dessert, staying by your side as you ate your food.

You stayed with them for dinner, as well, finding that you made a connection with the rest of the crew as well.

"Do you really not want to join?" Sanji asked for the third time, you only chuckled as you already expected the answer to pop up at some point. You sat with the crew on the main deck's floor, deciding to dine under the night sky instead of inside the cabin.

"Yeah, it’ll be fun, come on!" Luffy urged you on before stuffing his mouth with the contents of Usopp's plate.

"Hey!" Usopp scolded him as soon as he noticed his plate empty again.

"I thought you were heading for the Grand Line, what are you doing here?" You asked while Usopp stood and went to the kitchen.

"Don’t change the subject." Sanji caught your attempt, causing you to give him a sly smile.

"We were, but Luffy can’t keep his hands off our fridge.” Zoro glared at the oblivious captain who only continued to eat.

Nami hummed in agreement. "We keep needing to stop by islands to restock every other day, even if we stock a month's worth of food."

"Your turn to answer," Sanji urged, leaving you no choice but to do so.

"I’ve told you – I’m a merchant, not a pirate. I’m not in these seas for gold or adventure, I’m here to make a living."

"You’re a negotiator," Nami chimed in.

"And a good fighter!" Luffy exclaimed with a full mouth. You could only assume that Zoro had told them of your first encounter.

"Pirates don't negotiate," you chuckle out.

"Usually not, which is why we need a great fighter if things go south," Luffy explained persuasively.

"You already have good fighters on board," you motioned towards everyone.

"It wouldn't hurt to have one more."

You ran out of rebuttals.

"Still, I’m not joining a pirate group with him." You cocked your chin towards Zoro's way. He had finished his dinner and shut his eyes to go to sleep while still sitting with his arms crossed.

"Done, he’s off the group," Sanji concluded in a heartbeat.

"You don’t get to decide that," Zoro reminded him without opening his eyes.

Usopp had returned with a plate full of food while you had started rebutting. He kept his eyes on it the whole time, yet it disappeared the second he looked away to listen to what you were saying.

"LUFFY! Stop eating my dinner!"

* * * * * *

Fourth time's a sign.

It was less of a surprise than a concern, the fourth time you ran into each other. You headed to Loguetown not long after you left the Straw Hats again. You arrived at the town and stayed for a few days.

You were currently in Captain Smoker's office. Usually, it was pirates that passed by Loguetown, as it was the island closest to the Reverse Mountain in the East Blue. He wasn’t expecting that his ex-subordinate’s merchant of a daughter would be found in a place such as this. He knew this was your father's hometown, but you being in his office told him you weren't here for family reasons.

"Will this take long?" You asked impatiently.

"Not at all." He pulled out a piece of paper. You waved your hand around the air in front of you, trying to swat away some of the smoke to see even a little bit of the writing on the paper.

He flipped the paper and slid it towards you. "State your purpose here, write your name here, sign here." He pointed at different lines on the paper.

"You will not be permitted if you’re after the One Piece," he informed you before you started writing, "You’ll be considered a pirate and arrested, effective immediately."

"And if my purpose is private?" You questioned.

He only sighed before replying, "You have to put something down."

At that, you began to fill up the details. "Your father, how is he?"

Your brows raised at his decision to make conversation. You knew he wasn't the best at it. "Fine. Better since he finally retired."

It was difficult taking care of your father. Once an ex-marine, then a merchant, his life had always been on the line especially in this age of pirates. You always worried and wondered whether or not your father would come home. It was only four years ago that he retired at the age of 71.

"And your mother?"

Your mother had been supportive of every decision you and your father made, finding that it would be difficult to get either of you to change your minds anyway.

She always wanted at least two children, though fell ill and became unable to before she could. Your mother always assured that you were enough, though she never really said it.

She was remorseful that you grew up alone, and you were sad that she never got to completely have what she wanted.

However, she had recently begun teaching art class to the children of your village as a way to pass the time. You were happy she did – it made her happy.

"She’s fine, too. Dropped by for a bit before I head for the Grand Line."

Silence filled the suffocating atmosphere that wasn't even as severe as when Captain Smoker would be alone in his office. As you finished filling up the form, you flipped the paper again to face him.

"I'm not going there for the One Piece, by the way."

"I thought you weren't," Captain Smoker affirmed, as if to elucidate the trust he had on you, despite your father's other connections.

He read your reasoning and seemed to be stuck on it. He glanced between you and the paper multiple times before he put out his cigar on the paper, putting out the fire so it didn't completely burn. That served as his seal of approval.

You left his office afterwards, and you couldn't help but scan the streets as you walked. It had become somewhat of a bad habit, looking for Sanji in every village you visited.

As if fate was on your side, maybe even rooting for you, you heard the certain North Blue accent of a certain blonde haired chef call out your name.

You cannot hide the smile from your face as you turn to face the source of his voice, and it is evident by the grin on his face that he was all the more elated to have been able to run into you just before he entered the Grand Line.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, though you already knew the answer.

"Heading for the Grand Line," he answered as if it didn't need to be questioned at this point, which it really didn't. "You?"

"Heading for the Grand Line," you mimicked with a grin.

Though you expected him to be joyful, his face fell with confusion. "What?"

"There's something I have to tell you," you admitted sheepishly. "Lunch?" You offered before you gave him the news.

He couldn't help but smile at your offer, knowing he couldn't refuse it.

* * * * * *

Sanji found out your favorite food in your hometown. Given that, to your parents, it was a blessing for you to come home, they had decided to cook your favorite food for you. It was a simple tonkatsu, yet he wanted to make it perfect for you – just the way your parents would make it.

You learned that every Straw Hat had gone to different parts of the town, looking into every shop and spoiling themselves for as long as they could before they entered the Grand Line.

Meanwhile, Sanji set aside the task of buying supplies to cook for you instead.

"Why are you suddenly going to the Grand Line?" He asked while chopping up a cabbage. You sat at the dining table of the place you rented for a few days.

"It was never my intention, I always planned to stay in the East Blue," you admitted. "But my father, he…" you couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous it was.

"He and an old friend hid their family treasure in the New World – swore to one day come back for it."

"Your father entered the Grand Line?" You nodded.

"He really did make the most of it during his golden age back then," you remarked.

"So now, you're going to the New World to get your family treasure back?" You nodded again.

"And his friend's. After everything my parents have done for me, I think this is the only way I can repay them. Especially since my father grows weaker everyday now."

He nodded in understanding. He moved to sit next to you while he waited for one side of the tonkatsu to cook. He usually wouldn't, but he wanted to savour the moment he had with you – to be as close as he could to you.

"So, would you want to join us, now?" He offered again.

He noticed you took longer than usual to respond.

"I can't."

Sanji chuckled, unable to feel gray by the fourth time you rejected him. "Do you at least think about it?"

You couldn't help but chuckle as well. "I've always travelled alone," you reasoned, "and I think this should be something that I do alone."

"Agree to disagree," Sanji decided.

"I'm still not changing my mind." He raised his hands in surrender and he stood to turn the tonkatsu to its other side.

"So, I guess this is the last time we see each other," you deduced.

"Unless we run into each other at the Grand Line," Sanji added.

"Right." You looked at each other for a moment, and being under his gaze suddenly made you feel small, so you straightened your posture as you and he made sure to take with you every detail of each other. You weren't even sure either of you would be able to enter the Grand Line safely, yet somehow you were both still confident that you would.

"There's different islands and different paths to take in the Grand Line," you brought up, implying that your paths may not cross again.

"Well, if it's our fate to meet again, I will continue to ask you," Sanji reassured.

You chuckled. "Your captain has the highest bounty in the East Blue, you might not even leave the town."

"Please, our captain's an idiot. People, even in the Grand Line, will underestimate him and end up regretting it." His tone was distracted as he spoke, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

Your corner of your lips knowingly curled up to a smile, "You might meet other women."

"I will meet them, but I wouldn't pursue them – can you please just let me kiss you?" He asked impatiently. His eyes had settled on looking only at your lips by now. He knew by the smirk on your lips how you knew about his growing need to kiss you every time you two saw each other.

"Yeah, alright," your answer was all the more casual as if it didn't make your heart skip a beat to hear how desperate he had sounded. The words barely left your mouth before he had gently cupped your cheek and his lips met yours.

A groan left his lips and vibrated against yours as your hand tangled in his hair, his hand now resting to cup your jaw so he could feel how fast your heartbeat was from your pulse point.

You soon pulled away for air, your hand still in his hair and his on your cheek. Your foreheads touched as you leaned onto each other, both panting. You smiled and soon chuckled, pressing a kiss on the apple of his cheek.

"The food might burn," you reminded him that he was cooking.

He panted out a few more breaths and savoured the moment. It seemed as if the sentence you uttered took a moment to process in his brain after you had stupefied him with your kiss.

"Shit."

He quickly left your side, disconcerted as he overcooked one side of the tonkatsu.

Oh, well, he thought. He supposed he would have to endure eating this one if it meant you would have a perfect meal.

* * * * * *

Fifth time's an obstinacy.

It was as if your fates had been intertwined the moment you two first met.

You glanced at your Log Pose every once in a while as you waited for your order at the restaurant. As you did, you couldn't help but wonder where Sanji was at this point and time. It was taking quite some time for your Log Pose to record the direction to the next island with the path you chose to take, so you wondered if they were already far ahead of you.

"Man, I'm starving!" A familiar voice exclaimed upon entering the restaurant.

"You just finished eating every free sample at the market," another familiar voice responded, his tone nonchalant.

"Yeah, those were the appetizers!" You turned to face the entrance with a confused look, both heads immediately turning to face you, too.

"Oh, hey, it's you again!" Luffy walked towards your table, his first mate reluctantly following suit.

"What are you doing here?"

"We got lost, I think!" He announced as if it were something to boast about.

"Don't say it so confidently," Zoro scolded.

"Good to see you, moss head," you greeted with sarcasm.

"Hey, don't you start, too." You were about to give a snarky remark when Luffy spoke again.

"We just came from an island called Little Garden! We're planning on heading to Alabasta since we have their princess on board," Luffy explained, unknowingly preventing another duel between you and Zoro.

"For the record, we didn't kidnap her for ransom," Zoro cleared up due to the nature of Luffy's odd way of phrasing.

"Technically, we did, because Nami's asking for one billion Berries in return," Luffy argued.

"That's Nami we're talking about," Zoro retorted.

"Oh, waiter! I would like to order, please!" Luffy's voice boomed at the restaurant.

"Where's Sanji?" You asked. Your eyes had scanned around in search of the chef the moment you saw Luffy and Zoro, though you knew deep down that Sanji would only trust his own cooking. He would probably even scold you if he caught you dining here.

"Buying food supplies," Luffy responded while still eyeing the waiter who was serving another table.

"You ate it all again, didn't you?"

Luffy grinned at how well you seemed to know him. "I did!"

He was an open book – he seemed oblivious of the fact.

The waiter soon arrived with your food and Luffy took the chance to order every dish on the menu.

"Oh. Zoro, do you have any money?" Luffy had asked in the middle of his fourteenth dish. Zoro only looked at him, then they turned to you in unison.

Your eyes widened at the pair. You had finished your meal by Luffy's eighth dish, yet you stuck around both because of your amusement and manners.

You cleared your throat and looked away from their gazes, slowly taking out a few Berries that were enough for your meal before you stood and fled from the restaurant.

You could hear Luffy's frantic exclamations from outside the restaurant, growing distant as you continued to run.

You let out a surprised exclamation as you ran into someone upon your lack of focus. They had stopped you from completely crashing onto their chest by grabbing you by the shoulders.

He called your name and your head whipped up to face him.

"Sanji!" You grinned and threw your arms around his neck in an embrace, glad that he had entered the Grand Line safely. He wrapped his arms around your waist as well, lifting you off the ground as his grip tightened a bit.

He placed your feet back down on the ground a moment later, pulling away from the hug.

"Glad to see me again?" You teased.

"Very much, darling," he didn't attempt to deny, a wide grin now on his lips.

You noticed that he was with Nami, Usopp, and an unfamiliar woman with blue hair. You greeted the pair and gave the woman a puzzled look.

"This is Vivi," Nami introduced her, telling Vivi your name as well.

"It's nice to meet you," Vivi uttered sheepishly.

"Oh, are you the princess?" You presumed, panting from your running.

"Wait, you know?" Usopp questioned with confusion.

"I ran into your captain and swordsman. They almost trapped me into paying for their lunch at the restaurant." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder at the restaurant ahead of them.

"That's our captain for you." Nami shook her head in disapproval as she looked at the restaurant.

"Would you like to join us for lunch?" Sanji offered, smiling. "I'd be delighted to cook your favorite for you again."

You gladly accepted.

You were once again found boarding the Going Merry. Luffy and Zoro were yet to return, and presumably got lost, so Usopp volunteered to return to the village to search for them.

Once Vivi and Nami retreated to their shared room and left the two of you alone in the kitchen, you couldn't keep your hands off each other.

Your lips met again and things turned heated until you soon had to stop yourselves and let Sanji prepare the crew's lunch.

Sanji had a sly grin on his face as he buttoned back up his top button that you had unconsciously unbuttoned.

"I'm still not becoming a pirate." You could see the question coming from a mile away now.

Sanji clicked his tongue in playful annoyance. "Think about it."

"I have!" You chuckled as you spoke.

"And do you see yourself coming with us?" It took you a while to respond, contemplating whether or not you should tell the truth.

"I do," you admitted.

"So why don't you want to?"

"Because I feel like I'll forget what my goal is when I'm with you." He seemed taken aback by your response. "I forget about everything else when I'm around you. I forget there's a whole world with real people beyond that door and that it's not just you and me."

"I won't let you forget it," he reassured you, "I'll be there to support you, to help you."

He took your hands in his. "It pains me to be parted from you."

You rolled your eyes at how cheesy he sounded. "You'll live."

"I'll live in agony." You couldn't help but chuckle despite how serious he sounded. You squeezed his hands in comfort.

"Well, I do recall my father telling me that his friend left a clue somewhere in Alabasta." His eyes lit up at the thought of seeing you again, of having certainty of when and where you'll be able to meet again.

"Suppose I head there next; are you willing to find me?"

"I would scour all of the Blue Seas to find you."

Your heart jumped. "Then it's a date."

* * * * * *

It had only been two weeks since you last saw Sanji. You had encountered one more island, an autumnal kingdom, before you arrived at Alabasta.

Your father and his friend had made a riddle. It was almost as if you were on a scavenger hunt on the world's most dangerous land and waters.

In a desert land where droughts hold sway,

Soon an oasis, you'll find me one day.

But don't expect to see a mirage's grace,

I'm real, with life, by North's palace.

Rainbase. It had to be. It took days for you to travel to the location, the desert just as deadly as the open waters of the Grand Line.

You looked at the map of Alabasta, with it the piece of paper with the riddle your father had given you. In the event that neither he nor his friend would be able to return to their treasure, they decided to mark their clues with their initials.

And so, the paper was signed 'A.P. & G.D.R.'

Though there was commotion near the casino, you scoured the streets and alleys of Rainbase to find any sort of clue. Once you were sure to have checked every alley, your shoulders sagged as you failed to find the clue. It was only when you entered the pub that you found what you were looking for.

There was a wall of photographs in the corner of the pub. You drank a bottle of beer as your eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces of the pub's patrons.

You almost spat your beer out when you found one of your father and his friend. You unpinned it to take a closer look, noticing that it was slightly indented at some parts. You turned the picture around and found another riddle written with messy handwriting. It matched that of the riddle in your possession.

Way up high a place God is resided,

On stolen land from which its people are prohibited,

With fate and luck you will reach this land of Vearth,

Found far within the clouds where you will prove your worth.

– A.P. & G.D.R.

…What was that supposed to mean?

Rainbase was a piece of cake to decipher, but this one seemed to be utter nonsense.

You supposed it was up to par with how the Grand Line was. Nothing made sense and everything made you clueless.

You walked away from the wall, glum as you headed for the exit, when the bartender called for you.

He had been bartender long enough to recognize your father's face and your resemblance of him. He gave you something your father and his friend had left – something they entrusted to him to keep until someone came looking for clues.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the gold coin with Gol D. Roger's Jolly Roger. His flag had long fallen, yet the coin still assured your protection so long as you had it on your person as you continued in your journey.

And so, you left the pub with a photograph and a rare treasure.

"Oh!" Someone called your name just as you were walking back to the inn. You lifted your head off the ground to see Sanji up ahead.

A smile immediately found its way to your lips as you began to approach him, his arms raising as an invitation to an embrace.

You burrowed your face into his chest as you hugged him, his chest vibrating as he chuckled upon seeing you again.

"I hope you didn't miss me too much," he remarked.

You shrugged with nonchalance. "I survived," you retorted.

He had a cigarette between his lips that curled up at your reply. His hand took yours. "Come on."

Your eyes widened as he began running, leading you along. "Where, exactly?"

He forced a laugh to lessen your soon-to-be anxiety. "Err…Me and the gang are sort of on the run from Crocodile."

"The Warlord?!" He nodded.

"We got split up, but we're headed towards Alubarna to stop a war," he said too casually. You sighed exasperatedly.

"Nothing's ever dull with you guys, is it?" He only laughed.

* * * * * *

You successfully helped stop a war.

Luffy had fought and successfully defeated Crocodile. Unfortunately, he had been poisoned in the process, though was quickly given an antidote. This caused him to be in a three-day coma which fortunately left the rest of the crew to rest as well.

Since the last time you first saw them, you found that they recruited a reindeer doctor that had eaten the Human Human Devil Fruit.

You and Sanji decided to go out for dinner during those three days. By that, it means that Sanji cooked a five-course meal for just the two of you. You insisted that he didn't need to, but he insisted otherwise.

You both had taken hits and gained wounds during your attempt at preventing a war, so Sanji made sure to implement food that would help your wounds heal faster and give you more strength.

He told you the story of how they had met and recruited Chopper, the reindeer doctor. Nami had fallen ill days after their stay at an island called Little Garden. He also told you how the island had dinosaurs and two giants who had been in a century-long fight for a reason they didn't even remember anymore.

He told you of Baroque Works and the members they had come across and defeated, and how Crocodile had secretly been the organization's boss.

You noticed that he was yet to ask you the question that came every time you came across each other. Throughout your night, you waited, and it never came. You supposed he had come at peace with your seemingly compelled answer that never changed every time he asked you.

By the third day of your stay in Alubarna, Luffy finally woke. His crew was quick to devise a plan to leave the kingdom before the sun rose to quickly get back to your ships.

Vivi was torn between staying for her kingdom or joining the Straw Hat Pirates, so they had given her twelve hours to decide, which was just enough for their ship to pass by the eastern part of Alabasta and let Vivi board if she ever decided to join them.

Vivi chose her kingdom. She bid the Straw Hats farewell during her coming-of-age speech, staying by the coast as she showed off her 'X' tattoo that matched the others. It was a symbol that said no matter where they were, they would always be a Straw Hat Pirate.

The others had shown off theirs, too, while they sailed away from Alabasta.

Now, you remained on the Going Merry. Your boat was connected to the ship by rope. You were lounging at the main deck with the crew.

"We'll untie your boat from ours once we get far enough away from the Marines," Nami explained.

"Alright…" You replied, seemingly distracted.

Naturally, Sanji was the first to notice this. "Something on your mind, love?"

You had gotten used to the pet names at this point. You looked up at the ship's Jolly Roger as you rethought your decision one last time.

You closed your eyes. "Fine," you started.

You opened your eyes to see everyone looking at you curiously and expectantly.

"I'll join your crew," you clarified.

In the blink of an eye, Luffy lifted you to your feet and began to dance you around in celebration, Usopp and Chopper joining in. You couldn't help but chuckle at their delight.

Once the moment passed, Sanji approached you and held your hand.

"Are you sure?"

You smiled up at him. "I've thought about it a lot, like you said."

You looked around at the faces you've come across multiple times already. "And I guess I wouldn't mind being with a few friends – the journey to the New World is long, anyway."

You turned to Sanji. He had been looking at you with a smile.

Then, he suddenly swept you up into his arms and kissed you right there and then, finding himself too overwhelmed with emotions to say anything – so he just kissed you.

Most of the crew let out a surprised exclamation while Luffy began to laugh gleefully.

Nami was about to scold the cook as she saw your flushed face when you pulled away and chuckled sheepishly.

"Not in front of the crew," you spoke through gritted teeth as you gently smacked him upside the head.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, I got carried away."

"Sanji! This calls for a celebration! Cook something for us!" The Straw Hat Captain boomed.

"Aye-aye, captain!"

The door to the cabin swung open just as Sanji began to approach it. He halted in his steps.

"So, we've finally left the island?" Nico Robin, Miss All-Sunday, seemed to have snuck on board.

"...AAAHH!"

* * * * * *

a/n: i wonder if anyone figured out reader's father's friend was roger before it was stated…?

taglist: @inf4ntdeath @x-uno @miloonmetis @angeli-fucking-cat @zzbloody-animezz @watercolorskyy @saltyfriendsaladbandit @mbekgsv @mischiefmanaged71 @leslielovestedalot1 @theamazingtrinitysky @stevenknightmarc

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Sugar daddy x "pure"! Reader

EEEEEEEEE Time to write my baby, the fruit of my dark rofan loins (jk) Basically, this yandere is my first yandere OC and when I gave life (lol) to him in Char/ai yesterday, I just knew he had to be next.

Also, I contemplated what title to give him since he's also a mafia boss, but I decided to go with Sugar daddy since it's the most integral part of his story.

Also, "pure" just means that you dress light, really. But in Rowan's eyes, you were like an angel, a pure being that he needs to taint (oops spoiler)

Yandere! Sugar daddy name: Rowan Silas (Yes, he even has a last name)

notes: Rowan is not old, OLD. He's not a Dilf/Gilf level sugar daddy. In his lore with my other OC (his love interest), he's older by five years. Also, reader has a womb, due to mentions of pregnancy (why did I do this pregnancy shit twice? Dunno really.)

TW: noncon pregnancy, trackers, nsfw stuff

ALSO, REQUESTS ARE OPEN <3 (I don't even know if people will request but LOL just in case.)

The man only knew pain and crime all his life.

He never experienced anything good, apart from gunning down his enemies alive if that even means the same as what people deem as "good".

His life of crime was because of his adoptive father, who picked him up from the slums to become one of his personnel.

He was only seven by then. But his hands stained with blood as he killed the other kid who drowned his precious pet kitten in the lake. That's where his father knew that Rowan is not normal.

I mean, who would sport a smile while choking his fellow kid alive?

All Rowan said was "He deserved it though."

"He took what's precious from me."

That was enough to make his father set him straight to become the heir of the mafia family.

He grew up battered and bruised yet the vices he only knew is his smoking from his precious churchwarden pipe, and violence.

He told his father that it was enough for him.

Yet his body raged on, wanting more and more as greed consumed him for more.

Yes, he's a greedy man who wants more.

After all, he had nothing, then had one precious thing, then lost that thing. And then, when he eliminated the person who stole his precious thing, he got everything.

Did that make sense? To Rowan, it didn't.

He already got everything, but why does he want more?

So with a clean shot to the head, he killed his father and immediately inherited the family.

Now, he can spend the money and the resources as much as he wants. So he did. He went to casinos, brothels, luxury hotels and cruises. Everything he thinks that he needs.

But he still wants more. He still needs more.

And by god, he did get more.

He bumped into you one day, with you in your soft outfit of creams and pastels. Your pure, clean eyes made his heart skip a beat as you said sorry to him.

His greed triggered.

He wanted you so bad.

When he learned you needed a job when he saw your folder filled with resumes, he felt like he won the lottery.

"How about becoming my sugar baby? Don't worry, I won't ask anything. Much."

And as your cute figure pondered what to do, he smirked. You, in the middle of his dim office, in light clothing and an innocent face, was such a contrast in the dark office filled with his smoke from his beloved churchwarden pipe. You stuck out like a sore thumb, and he liked it.

He loved it.

And as your lips dropped the answer he wanted to hear, he shivered and gave you a lopsided smile.

"Good. Now, what do you want, love?"

Rowan sat down on his office chair, he cracked his neck and sighed.

He was bone tired. He just finished a cartel mission that he himself as the boss had to interfere. It was annoying because it was due to his incompetent new recruits.

At least they're sleeping with the "fishies", as what you call the finned sea creatures.

He grabbed something from his pocket and brought it up to his face. It was an intricate jeweled choker with a lot of rose gold arcs, jewels that match your eyes, and a diamond encrusted opal centerpiece.

He imagined you wearing it. Wrapping the choker on your neck himself, seeing your eyes flash in wonder and amazement. He imagined you also getting shy and saying that it was too expensive, and him saying that it was okay, and he wanted to give you this entirely by his own volition. And he got excited.

...In one way or another.

He chuckled and shook his head, swinging on his swivel chair as he dialed your number.

After two rings, you picked up.

"Love, come here. I got a gift for you."

You whined, getting shy again. He chuckled.

"You know what I say, I don't want to hear you say no. So come here now."

So you did.

Once you got there, he smiled and kissed your lips softly, bringing you close to him by your waist and lifting you up easily with his tatted arms.

"Come, I'll give you the present myself."

You got curious naturally.

He settled you in front of the floor length mirror which also saw... Much more intimate and sensual things you both did other than this gift giving thing he's doing.

Rowan slowly grabbed your hair and raised it, making you shiver with goosebumps from the action. He smirked, seeing you so flustered from the simple act of him grabbing your hair.

Well, that, and he also liked to grab your hair a lot while fucking you senselessly. There's that too.

You closed your eyes when he told you too, and you felt the familiar cold sensation of jewelry resting on your neck. But this time, it hugged it, making you open your eyes. It was the beautiful choker he was admiring earlier.

"Do you love it?" Rowan asked, looking at you through the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You nodded enthusiastically and said yes. He smirked.

This was the first time you didn't say to take the gift back with such a flustered apprehensive look. You're starting to get greedy.

He loved that. A lot.

"Now, how about you kiss me in return, hmm?" You rolled your eyes and gently kissed him. You know this day is not just going to end in a kiss.

But you didn't mind.

And he knows that.

You went home that day with Rowan driving you. He gave you more gifts that you shyly accepted once more, making Rowan shiver in glee. Again, you didn't reject them at all.

You're slowly getting tainted by his greediness.

And hopefully, you will be greedy enough to bring up your relationship to him, and tell him that you wanted more to this.

That you wanted his love.

Oh, he trembles at the thought.

It's not a question of if, but when, after all.

But now, he's just slowly moving forward with your relationship. Slow and steady wins the race, after all. Despite him living such a fast paced life, he knows he's patient enough to wait for you.

But if you backtracked and got out of his tight grasp...

Let's just say that the tracker he planted on your laptop, your phone, and now your precious choker will help him find you if you ran away.

You were the light to his dark, dreary life.

He'll be crazy enough to let you go.

And he's already crazy about you.

That's why he's making you addicted to him also. Showering you with gifts and love. Praising your body, worshipping it, pleasing it until you reach the heavens like the angel you are.

And if you still didn't want him... Let's just say the condoms with holes in them that he himself poked will do the trick.

It was a dirty tactic. But who cares? He's a mafia boss for god's sake. Dirty tactics aren't new to him.

And if you still somehow didn't end up pregnant and got to run away, he'll use his influence to find you.

You got no escape.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

You were his love. His greed.

With a drag of his churchwarden pipe, he drove off to plan your wedding.

You were going to be his after all.

No matter what.

I don't know if I did my baby Rowan justice i'm going crazY FUCK.

Can you guys tell I have favoritism? Because I do LOL

[mrs-padalecki2341]

Hey um. This is my first time doing an ask but can u maybe please write an enemy to lovers

Sam and reader (reader is assumed to be vamp or wolf or something else but is innocent and 100% human)

Misunderstanding

(Sam x Reader)

I tried my best to fit the prompt, so I hope I did okay and that you like it! Enjoy!

Warnings/Promises: Gunshot wound, canon level violence, smut, screaming kink, unprotected sex/ creampie (wrap it before you tap it), slight praise, kind of like an enemies to lovers thing, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something.

~~~

You were on a case, hunting what seemed to be a werewolf. After three days and no luck, you decided to take a break and hit the local bar. Now, you were on your way back to the motel, when someone screamed help from an allyway.

You turned the corner to see the werewolf running off and a man lying dead on the ground.

You walked over and crouched beside him to check for a heart, and sure enough, it was missing.

You sighed and wiped the blood that got on you on your pants. You were about to go call the cops about the body when someone called out behind you.

"Hey!"

You turned and saw two guys at the other end of the ally right as one of them shot a silver bullet into your shoulder, just missing your chest and heart.

You stumbled and collapsed against the wall, grabbing your shoulder with one hand and reaching for your gun with the other.

"What the fuck?!? Who the fuck are you!?!?" You called out to the guys.

"Shit. She's not a wolf..." The taller one said as they both ran up to you.

"Wolf? As in "Werewolf"?" You asked, still leaning against the wall, a slight strain to your voice from the pain.

How did they know about werewolves?

"Yeah. We're looking for a werewolf..." The shorter one says.

"Wait, so you're hunters?" You asked, confused.

"Yeah, I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. So, are you a hunter too then?" The tall one replied.

"Y-yeah... Did you say Winchester? As in *the* Winchesters?" Your eyes went big.

"Uh, heh, yeah. That's us." Sam chuckled as you stumbled a bit. "Oh, yeah, sorry about shooting you... Here, let me see..." He moved your hand away from the wound and examined it. "Whew, yeah, you're gonna need stitches for that. We can take you back to our bunker and fix you up there if you want."

He reached his hand out to help you stand up from on the wall.

"Thank you." You murmured, accepting his hand. "I'm Y/n, by the way. Y/n Y/l/n."

They helped you back to their 67' Chevy Impala and drove you to the bunker.

Once you got there and they stitched and patched you up, you leaned back in your chair. You glanced at the room around you, which was a library with shelves filled with countless books on legends and lore.

"Y'all have a nice place." You sighed and relaxed your body.

"Thanks." Sam smiled and sat down beside you, turning on the little lamp in the center of the table.

Dean came walking into the room with three beers in hand.

"Want one?" He asked and looked at you. When you gave him a nod he tossed it to you, then tossed another to Sam, before sitting down across from you and opening his own.

You cracked open the bottle and took a nice sip, then sat it back down, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you admired the men before you.

The three of you had sat there and talked for a while and drank a few beers, when Dean stretched.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night. See y'all later." Dean said though a yawn as he gathered all the empty beer bottles the three of you had accumulated.

"Kay, g'night Dean." Sam called to his brother.

"Night, Sammy." Dean called back as he walked off to go to his room for the night.

Once Dean was out of earshot, Sam turned to you, a slight smile forming across his face.

"Y'know, I've been thinking, this whole time while we've been sitting here, about how pretty you are." He said, his smile growing.

"Really?" Your face flushed.

"Yeah. And I do kind of have some making up with you to do after I shot you and all..." His face flushed as well. You could tell he was a bit nervous.

Taking the hint that he was trying to flirt, you leaned forward.

"How about you do some making *out* with me instead, and we'll call it even?~" You smirked, making him blush harder.

"Deal." He whispered, smirking back, before scooting closer to connect lips with you.

When his mouth reached yours, you couldn't help but let out a little squeal of excitement, a thin layer of sweat forming on both of your bodies. You scooted out of your chair and into his lap, wrapping your thighs around him. He groaned around your lips as you deepened the kiss, your tongue twirling around his.

"We should probably go somewhere more private." He said, breaking the kiss.

You nodded in agreement, and he grabbed onto your thighs, picking you up as he stood from the chair. You twirled his thick hair around your fingers and nipped at his neck as he carried you back to his room.

The door opened and shut with a creak and left you and Sam alone in the privacy of his bedroom to do as you pleased. You were shaking with excitement and lust as he laid down on the bed with you. You wasted no time finding each other's lips again and you both let out tiny groans of enjoyment as you kissed enthusiastically.

"Take off your clothes." He commanded in a deep and rough tone.

You did as you were told and stripped off your clothing, starting with your blood-stained shirt, until all that was left on you was the patch over your wound.

"You're even prettier than I'd thought you would be." He gawked as he removed his own clothing.

Your eyes went wide at the sight of him. How the hell were you going to take all of that??? He noticed the way you were staring and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle at first until you get used to me."

You nodded and then pulled him back down on the bed and kissed him. It was like he was a drug or something. You just couldn't get enough. Every second that your lips were away from his felt like an eternity-long withdraw.

He moved his hand to his cock to line it up with your soaking wet cunt.

"May I?" He asked, waiting for you to consent to him entering you.

"Please..." You moaned, needing him inside you like a fish needs water.

He slowly pushed his tip in, causing you to let out a loud, uncontrollable moan.

"Do you need me to stop?" He says, worried he hurt you.

"No, please, God no, don't stop." You begged through a moan.

"Okay, let me know if you do need me to stop though, okay?" He said as he pushed in deeper.

"Okay." You said while you moaned and mewled in pleasure as he pushed himself deeper inside of you. You could feel every last bit of him as he eased into your throbbing core.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to move." He said as he bottomed out, his hips against yours.

"Okay, you can move." You said with a deep breath.

He pulled out slowly, until just his tip was inside of you, then he pushed back in, then out, then in, then out, then in.

"Mmm, fuck Sammy, you're gonna kill me. Faster." You whined.

He sped up his movement just slightly, making a subtle difference.

"Mm, no, *faster*. If you don't hurry up and fuck me right, I might explode." You exclaimed, desperation clear in your tone.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied jokingly, pulling his hips away and then pushing back in at a finally decent pace.

"Ahhh, that's more like it." You sighed, moving your hips to meet his with each thrust.

"Yeah... Damn, you feel amazing." He praised, groaning in pleasure.

"Fuck!" You yelped out as he hit your g-spot, sending an extra strong jab of pleasure through your core. "Mm, fuck, right there..." You spread your legs further to give him more room to move inside you.

At this, he sped up, pushing harder into your g-spot with each thrust into you until you were practically screaming.

"Ah, shit, you sound perfect. Keep screaming, baby." He groaned, moving his hands to your hips and pushing even harder to make you scream louder.

"F...f... fu... mm... FUCK, SAMMY. MMMN~" You yelled out as you squeezed around his cock and came so hard your vision went fuzzy.

He kept moving in and out of you, until his rhythm faltered, and his pace sped up for the final pushes into you until he came inside you, digging his fingers into your sides hard enough to leave marks.

"Wow." Was all he could manage to say as he exhaled heavily and rolled over onto his back beside you.

"I agree. Wow." You sighed, still euphoric and half blind with pleasure.

You huffed out with a soft "hmmm~" and scooted in closer to Sam's giant figure that lay next to you on the bed.

"You're good at that." You spoke softly after a moment.

He just smiled in response and chuckled as he laid there with you in his arms.

You were both already about to pass out, when there was a thump at the door.

"Y'all okay in there? I woke up to Y/n screaming." Dean's tired voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, we're good." Sam called and you both let out a little laugh.

"Ohh... alright then." Dean replied as it clicked in his head what types of screams they were. "Well, I'm going back to sleep then. Try to keep it down."

"We won't!" You called to him, fully intending on screaming at the top of your lungs next round.

Sam just laughed, gently kneading one of your breasts in his hand.

"So, I guess that means this is a more than one round type of thing then?"He suggested, smiling at you coyly.

"Mmhmm. I hope you didn't plan on sleeping tonight~" You purred, pulling him back up against you.

"Oh, I don't plan on sleeping for a week if you're gonna keep this up the whole time~" He groaned back, snatching you by the hair into an aggressive kiss before climbing on top of you for round two.

-SP<3

[turretistrying]

Infected/Zombie Reader helping RE men (Leon K., Carlos O., & Ethan W.)

Somewhat based on that one zombie reader post by @qdbs-writes because honestly it was really cute and this idea has been bouncing in my brain for a bit. I’m going to preface that I’ve only played RE2R, but I have a vague understanding of the RE lore and stories, i’m only doing these three because I know them the best, if I knew chris better I would’ve added him

(this is just a suggestion but here’s what’s damaged on your zombie body: right eye gone, right cheek crewed off, left shoulder nearly gone, and several bites all around)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE2)

You’re one of the many, many, people who fled to the RPD to escape the growing hoards of zombies, unfortunately you were infected early on and hid out in one of the many storage rooms as you succumbed to the virus

…but your conscious stays somewhat intact, sure every thought is slower and less verbose but you still have some of it left, speaking is hard as well but you can speak to some degree

you stay on the third floor, observing Marvin and eventually Leon once he comes in

You’re enamored as soon as you see him, so you decide to try and help him as he goes through the entire RPD, placing some ammo here, some boards there, in general helping out behind the scenes despite how slow you move

This slowness bites you when you go down to the main hall to place a green and red plant you had found next to the typewriter, since Leon had been limping for quite awhile around the RPD

You gently place the two plants (still in the containers, you can’t grind them up due to the shakiness in your zombified hands) but you hear Leon coming down from the second floor library so you try and shuffle back into a room to hide again, until you hear the click of his gun

You turn around and see Leon, gun raised to likely give you a headshot like he’s given to plenty of the other zombies around (you know since you’ve seen plenty bodies with exploded heads..)

So you just, start shuffling backwards with arms raised in peace, mumbling ‘sorry.. sorry.. please, no.. hurt’ as best you can with your undead voice, which comes out pretty rough

Leon was about to shoot you but as soon as he saw you back away and mumble what sounded like human speech and not just growls and rumbles, so he lowers his gun slightly, tilting his head at you

You escape into the west office, and Leon fully lowers his gun and then looks at the plants you left him (he uses them, he’s not an idiot to ignore a healing item when he’s been at ‘danger’ for 2 hours)

When Leon unlocks the Goddess statue you come out from hiding and softly approach, and hand him some ammo and healing items “good.. byye..” you say to him look at him with your singular eye (you lost the other one when you got infected) before starting to walk off

Leon watches you walk away, about to hide again and he hesitates before saying “Wait, would you… like to come with me?”.

He watches you turn slightly and grumble “..you.. sure?”

He nods at you and you walk back up to him, and follow him as he goes down the stairs

Bonus:

During the G-3 fight you help by throwing yourself at him and stab one of the eyes with a knife Leon gave you, smiling in triumph when you stab an eye fully

Ada is very cautious and nearly shoots you several times, she thinks you’re just in the early stages of infection and she doesn’t want you killing her pawn (leon) before he gets the virus for her

When you get on the train Claire and Sherry are a bit wary of you but during the trip they start to like you, Leon’s account helps a lot as well

Carlos Oliveria (RE3)

Similar to Leon’s, you’re one of the people who fled to the RPD and got infected, and hid in a storage room (this storage room was clearly for all the Christmas decor… the bells gave it away)

You picked off the bells and kept them in a small box, as well as stealing post-it notes and a pen from the west office

From the second floor you watch Carlos and Tyrell make their way in, watching them scope out the place

As soon as you saw Carlos, you muttered under your breath “he..h.. scruffy..”

You noticed he was having a hard time with the Lickers, so you decided to make use of the bells you took, throwing them down hallways out of sight of Carlos so the Lickers chased the noise

He heard the chiming, making a remark like “The hell is that coming from?”

After awhile of doing this, you decided to just gift Carlos the bells

You place them on a desk with the brightest sticky note you could find

He finds it, noticing the stark contrast of the gloomy environment of the RPD, and reads the note

‘For the licks! Hold tighy in hnd then throw, it loud so they chse! : )’ was written on the note, it was hard to read being a shaky and messy handwriting but he got the general idea, chuckling at the squiggly smily face on it

He opens and sees 4 tiny golden bells

He looks around, hoping to maybe find who put it there but finds nothing, nothing but a hunched over dead (?) zombie next to the desk “Whoever put this here, Thanks, and thanks for probably being the reason for saving my ass a few times”

He leaves and you say to the air “no.. problemmm..!”

You start following him around and so he eventually notices you, and nearly shoots you on the spot before you move your hand to ring the golden bell you kept and attached to a string as a necklace

He relaxes a bit but keeps his guard up until he realizes that you’re just an innocent smart (questionable) zombie!

Bonus:

Before realizing that you weren’t gonna hurt him, he really thought you were because you kept staring up at his head… In reality you just really wanted to pet his hair, but because words are hard when you’re a zombie and you didn’t wanna get shot you just didn’t say anything

(You eventually did get to touch his hair, muttering a “soooft.. so.. soooft!”)

In that helicopter cutscene when Nicholai is about to shoot Jill, you jump from nowhere and tackle the guy by the neck; Carlos shouts in exclamation “Hell yeah! Get him!” before Nicholai punches your jaw right off (ouch)

Ethan Winters (RE7)

In this case you’re kinda like Ethan if he didn’t get all his memory and body transferred (does.. does that make sense???)

Since the moment Ethan stepped into the Baker House, you’ve been watching him

While you can’t remember most of your past, you know you were human like him, and watching him brings you a sense of… comfort. So you watch as he explores the house, trying to find Mia

Sometimes you forget what you’re doing and make noise, making Ethan more paranoid as he goes through the house (you felt bad every time you accidentally spooked him)

Watching him getting attacked by Mia was a nightmare, and you felt like you shouldn’t intervene… until Mia stabbed him in the hand

You emerged from the shadows (and mold..) and pulled her off of Ethan, giving a soft growl at her before she tried to attack you. You sidestepped and pushed her into the wall, which caused her to knock her head against the wall and faint

You stared down at her before turning to Ethan, who was a bit put off by your appearance

“You’re… hurt. Follow.” and you start walking to where a first aid liquid was hidden away and hand it to him

After patching him up you go over to the boarded up door and started to remove the wood with ease, before Mia got back up and threw Ethan through the nearly open door. You yelp (with some scratchiness) at that before running up to try and help, but then Ethan swung an axe into her neck.

You look at him and see the horror in his eyes at what he’s just done, you reach out to touch his back before slightly withdrawing; “you… oo-kay?” You asked in a low voice, and he shook his head before standing up and making his way deeper into the house, fully ignoring you after that.

So you follow, wanting to make sure he’s okay. He’s the only thing human in this house (for now)

Then Mia comes back again, of course, stabbing Ethan in the hand with a screwdriver this time. You run up and start trying to pry it out of the wall and his hand, before you see Mia coming with a chainsaw. She slashes with the chainsaw, cutting you in half at the shoulder before hitting Ethan’s wrist.

You blackout for awhile, coming to after about an hour as your body of mold stitches itself back together into one solid form again

Submerging into the mold, you reform in the living room adjacent to the nightmare dining room, seeing the back of Ethan tied in one of the chairs

You carefully untie him from the chair, before being noticed Marguerite pulled you up by the hair unto the table

You reach into a clump of mold and pull a smoke bomb before pulling Ethan out of the chair and away

From there on you helped him the best you could

Bonus:

You alway try and take the hits for him, he’s still fleshy and human, you can take it! He’s still worried for you despite the fact you can patch yourself back together.

When Ethan dies and becomes mold, you feel bad for him. You don’t tell him, since if he thinks he’s still human, then he’s still human to you.

After the BSAA comes you don’t know what to do, you assume you’re going to be left there or be experimented on… but Ethan calls your name (that you told him at some point, it’s one of the only things you have left from before being molded) and gestures you to come with him, you come close before fearfully looking at Chris, but he just nods and lets you on the helicopter.

OKAY WOW this is… something. I don’t know. I kinda gave up in that last one despite Ethan being my favorite next to Leon. I really hope, that this is good, im some way, amd i hope i didnt totally screw the canon, ahhh. Hope people like thissss,,, would’ve done art but i’ve got art block

[adachimoe]

Atlus, please tell me the lore behind Adachi's mp3 player

Even just looking at Adachi, he doesn't exactly have the image of someone who gives a shit lol.

And this is intentional. Soejima talks about this aspect of Adachi's design in the P4 Design Works. Adachi is said to be an elite officer, one of the best of the best, and Soejima thought an elite might be smart, but lacking in other areas. For this reason, Soejima designed him with that crooked tie and messy bedhead.

That's certainly a common thing in fiction - someone who's good at one thing, but a complete space case in something unrelated. Though he comes off as incompetent in-game, to the extent that him showing competency in December surprises Dojima lol. And even when you get into the real dumb plot stuff that I write 10k words about, it took him like 4 months to figure out that "people can come out of the TV". Ma-Maybe his record was better at his old station.

Even in what Atlus has mentioned about the setting for P4 that doesn't get discussed in-game, Adachi's red tie is something Dojima gave him, and only because Dojima got tired of seeing him wear the old shabby tie he wore before and gave him one of his spare neckties.

If Dojima had never just given him a different tie to wear, I imagine Adachi would still be wearing his old shitty tie until it completely fell apart... Is Adachi pathetic enough to try and like... tape a tie together? Probably.

Him not caring too much about appearance and being a messy guy seems to extend to other aspects of his life. Even in his character profiles for P4 and P4AU, both say he's terrible at cleaning his room and the P4 one also says he sucks at filing paperwork lol.

This continues in his P4AU narration. The investigating detective pulls out 3 pieces of "evidence": A TV which ends up being used to get Adachi into the plot, a model gun which fits with his hobby being doing gun maintenance at home, and some kind of random off brand iPod-esque thing.

The actual music player itself is unimportant. Instead, it's used for a little characterization moment where Adachi confirms that it is indeed something that's his (he even remembers how he got it!), but he didn't particularly care about it and just left it wherever.

All things considered, I get the mental image of Adachi being the kind of guy who uses that meme 13-in-1 ~for men~ product, and his room is just a mountain of cup noodles and piles of random bullshit. Maybe there are more iPods and model guns to be unearthed from underneath his other stuff.

All of this is only talking about the more physical and material aspects of him, but I think you can extend this to who he is as a person and his mentality as well. Granted, some guys in real life end up being useless slobs as adults because they're used to their mom/sister/family/etc babying them, but uhhhhhhh from what Adachi says about his past, we can instantly rule that out with him.

(Edit: As a comment pointed out, upon re-reading this this does sound weird. When I wrote this, I was thinking more about doormat pushover moms. I don't see Adachi's mom doing domestic stuff as her babying him as a child because it strikes me as the Default Gender Role thing where the dad makes the money but the mom takes care of the household. And from how Adachi talks about it, you get the impression she wasn't hyper attentive towards him, as if she did like the bare minimum lol. Adachi's attitude towards the whole thing also strikes me as different than the dudes who grow up as spoiled little kings in their households.)

It seems pretty sensible to correlate his physical state and the way he uses it to express a lack of care for himself to something going on in his brain. Adult burnout, depression, lack of self-esteem & self-worth, all of the above.

I like the random anecdote about the music player, especially since it's him. A bingo game at a New Year's party............... A bingo game at a New Year's party???????????? Adachi, you went to a New Year's party? Hoooly shit dude I don't even do that.

Since he was in jail during New Years 2012 and only arrived in Inaba during spring 2011, for him to have won it during New Year's implies this is from before the events of Persona 4. E.g. it's not something Dojima dragged him to. I assume it was some work-related New Year's party when he was still stationed in Iwatodai. Keeping up appearances for the higher-ups? Did he just want free food? A bit lonely and wanted company and absolutely not gonna say that outloud? (All of the above?)

In both his P4 dialogue and his P4AU inner thoughts, he tends to look down on others. He's annoyed by the old woman at Junes (...though his voiced line on rank 6 expresses he liked her doting on him), he calls the protagonist a dumbass (...but only after admitting he misses him, Dojima, and Nanako), he doesn't think he'll ever get married (even tho I'm available).

And yet, as little blurbs like this go to show, we know he still participates. ♪(´▽｀)

Did he even use the iPod thing before chucking it? What did he put on it? Idols or something? Answer me, Atlus.

[deliverusfromevillll]

A Sticky Situation [Mammon/F!Reader]

❝ What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? ❞

warnings ⨾ blood, descriptions of gore, guns, gunshot wound, choking, swearing, arachnophobia (the irony), established prior connection, soft mammon, sexual content, unresolved sexual tension, resolved angst

terms ⨾ ❝ Drakon ❞ the Latin word meaning "dragon." ❝ Bogan ❞ Australian slang meaning (in negative connotation) someone who's a bit of a nerd or geek, holds no dress sense and/or has poor social skills.

notes  ⨾ I am very much not Australian so when I looked up slang and could not find ANY concrete definitions for anything: I was in major pain. Anyways quick thing because [F/n]'s lore might seem confusing. I created an entirely different race of "humanoid" dragons that acted as the knight/official guards for the Ars Goetia incase of extermination/assassination attempts. [F/n] retired from her position as knight for an unnamed Goetia. This entire chapter was originally 13K words but I felt as though the plot arc with the Goetia drifted way too far from the original point of this fic since it was so, so needlessly lore heavy for a reader insert and made this 100x more angsty like you have no idea. Especially since this is only meant to be two chapters. This chapter was cut down for your reading pleasure! If you would like to be part of the process in between me brainstorming and posting ( as I am currently looking for beta readers ) and/or generally would like to see WIPs feel free to join my discord ( NgT88bybyY ).

[02]

As always minors DNI.| 6.3K words

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is unique.

He was her boss, and she was his secretary.

Running the errands, info graphing, and scheduling his business appointments when due. But it wasn't so simple.

With his artificially friendly attitude in public, behind the scenes he was nothing but cynical— snarky and demanding. Hardly surprising for the king of greed.

[F/n] was no fan, she made it clear.

Despite the lethal glares and threats she managed to shoot a quip or a snark in return each time. It initially prompted a warning hiss or a growl, an insult or a threat.

Then he resorted to shredding through his confined costume to intimidate her one time after they both seriously got into it. Neither party was satisfied in not having the last word.

Despite however many threats were hurled nothing ever came about them.

[F/n] desired the experience the job gave her and Mammon found her too entertaining to simply let go.

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is undeniably unique.

But damn, there was no shying away from the fact [F/n] did her job exceptionally well. The best in all of Hell. And that's another one of the handful of reasons why he tolerated her.

"Y'er getting on my nerves lizard." Mammon seethes with a false smile.

He sulks leaning away, poisonous puff of green air seeping though his teeth.

[F/n] raises a brow at him, eye roll following. "I need you to work with me here, asshole." [F/n] adjusted herself, turning towards him.

"If you wanna reduce the immediate damage Asmodeus and his little lapdog made we need to start advertising the twins asap. What's bothering you right now?"

Mammon huffed. "The leftover Fizz merch— sales are declining incase ya' haven't seen mate. I'm losin' money."

[F/n] clicked her tongue.

"Whatever doesn't sell now we can resell in a few weeks as vintage or some other bullshit with a higher price tag. You have any idea how much these loser collectors will pay to get their hands on discontinued merchandise?"

That's all it took for Mammon to light up, snatching [F/n] with his top hands in excitement.

"Y'er a bloody GENIOUS!" He shakes her, dropping her instantaneously. "We could double —no— TRIPLE our profits thanks to these degenerates! Ahh I taught ya' so bloody well!"

Mammon splays his hands towards the imaginary dollar signs in the air, clapping eagerly.

"And that's why I love ya' doll!" He shouts with a hefty grin, giving her a final charmed glance as he turned to make way towards the awaiting camera crew. Robo-Fizzies chasing after him with lighting sticks and microphones.

[F/n] catches herself after his stare, the spines on her tail rattling flustered. Her posture eases before anyone else can see as she flicks her tail in response.

Damn did she hate whenever he said things like that.

It's almost as if he knew the effect he had on her, doing and saying things that would purposefully rile her up. [F/n] refused to acknowledge any part of it, counteractive to the very obvious blush on her completion.

Through the commotion, Mammon smiled charismatically in [F/n]'s direction as their eyes met again. This was going to be a long shoot.

"That went better than I expected." [F/n] mumbles. Mammon appearing in a green cloud next to her. Bells chiming happily.

"Why'dya say that? Doubted me?" He rung.

"Well for all the years I've known you— Accepting you got fucked is definitely not something you're known for... You're taking losing your star clown better than I thought."

Mammon chuckles in amusement.

"Star clown? I am the star clown. With or without him I'll still make a fuck ton o' money." He nudges her. "With y'er— uh, our ideas and my reinforcement I don't see any issue mate."

[F/n] looked very, very, unconvinced. Mammon thinks for a moment before shrugging.

"At the end of the day you are my most valuable asset after all."

"What a way to make a girl feel special Ammo." Her eyes roll.

Mammon only giggled for a moment, attention immediately stolen upon taking in a familiar scent.

The smell of coffee meets his nose as they walk before the café in his estate. It takes him no time to decide he's in the mood for another cup of coffee.

[F/n] could already tell by the expression on his face. However unconvinced about giving the bug even more caffeine after his last.

Mammon playfully puts on a puppy-eyed expression as he bends town to her level.

He shoves his face in front of hers, frowning, the green glow of his pupils becoming brighter. "C'mon doll, ya'd say no to my lil 'ol face?"

His smaller spider eyes make a show as he frowns with an exaggerated pointed lip.

She sighs, gently pushing his face away. "Enough with the eyes. I'll be right back... Not like you'd let me say no anyways asshole."

Like a cat that ate the canary, Mammon smiles triumphantly as he took a moment to get seated on one of the empty tables outside the shop.

He enjoys the smell of coffee beans while searching in her direction through the large glass windows. He watches her make some hand motions towards the menu.

Letting out a big yawn, he blinks blearily. He could use a nap after all this.

Exploiting his employees was hard work after all.

Mammon observes her pull out her wallet, swiping her card. His smile becomes gentler, enamored at the idea of her willingness to spend her own money on him.

He became increasingly aware the expression he wore, quickly clearing his throat to look more serious.

It takes the café worker a second to hand her the single cup of coffee alongside a paper bag. He waves her goodbye with a bold wink, [F/n] unable to hold her laugh.

Mammon gritted his teeth. He conditioned his employees not to unnecessarily pester him, or her, especially when they were out together. Seems like one of them hadn't learned this yet. He took a mental note.

He was about to get up from his seat until [F/n] audibly shut the door behind her with a small jingle. She takes a seat across from him as he leaned forward and snatched the drink from her hand.

"'Bout fuckin' time cunt." He grumbles.

Mammon takes a sip of the cold coffee, ignoring his irritation as the sweet contents hit his tongue.

Or at least he tried to, the sweetness of it tasting rather dull part in due to his thoughts.

"Was this made by that fuckin' bogan?" He wonders.

His hand tenses, squeezing the drink at his palm slightly.

"I got you this." [F/n] mumbled, scooting the bag towards him.

Mammon snaps his attention towards back towards her, pausing to glance between her then the baggie before fishing through it. He pulls out a small box, opening it to reveal a cream colored pastry.

It takes him a moment to collect his thought.

Confused, he asks, "Why the cake, doll? Ya' know all I wanted was my coffee."

"You were feeling like shit earlier." She puts it simply.

Mammon shifted from the cake to her in his peripheral vision.

She was worried about him. Had him in her mind. Considerate about how he felt, albeit she wouldn't admit it out loud.

He couldn't help but grow a fat smile, genuine smile, as he scoots closer towards her.

"I'm starting to think ya' actually care about me, love." [F/n]'s eyes widen for a second.

She looks away from him, scoffing.

"Don't overthink it. I don't want to deal with you when you're in a mood."

Mammon takes a small bite, savoring the even sweeter taste. Humming with delight, he takes another portion of it with the plastic spoon, leaning forward to bring it to her mouth.

[F/n] glances between the cake and Mammon, who's unashamedly eagerly watching her.

"I-I don't—"

"Ahh don't fuckin' be like that mate. It's good, try it!"

The dragon takes a bite, flushed, as she ate the piece in silent agreement. Her tail sticking to her leg somewhat embarrassed.

He was right, the pastry was fluffy and flavorful. Not that she expected any different, that was the reason why she bought it for him. She would've never anticipated this however.

Another spoonful reaches her lips, she accepts it without complaint this time. Expression easing. Her tail wags behind her in satisfaction.

Mammon carefully scoops more, bringing it to her face once again.

[F/n] quickly swallows the bit already in her mouth, shaking her head this time.

"I bought it for you, I'm eating more of it than you are. You're being a little bit too charitable."

"Yeah but who's to say I'm not getting anythin' out of feeding ya', love?" He dotes.

[F/n] felt the tips of her ears warm, tail flicking.

Mammon soaks in her flush, turning to take another sip of his coffee. His eyes follow the direction of his lips for a glance before returning at her image.

He freezes for a moment, brows furrowing. Mammon checks the cup again to ensure he saw it correctly. [F/n] immediately notices his expression drop and leans over to see the source.

A phone number was written just under her name with a heart.

"Aw how cute!"

Mammon gags. "Cute?!"

"Yeah, first time someone has done that for me. It's kinda sweet!" [F/n] reaches for the cup, Mammon hisses as he holds it further away.

"Doll, there's no bloody way you're actually interested in this cunt. He's some fuckin' nobody workin' below minimum wage!"

"Oh please, you sound jealous, he was really n—!"

Mammon immediately crushes the cup in his grip, indifferent feeling the coffee spill onto his glove and trickle to the table. He reaches over to grab [F/n]'s extended hand to move it away as he leans towards her features.

His face was centimeters away from hers, sharp breath tickling her features.

"I ain't the sharing type." Mammon growled.

The cup gets engulfed in a green cloud, vanishing as the smoke dissipated. [F/n] glared at the spider, brows furrowed in uncertainty.

He was acting like this again.

"Fucking hell, I didn't want any of your coffee. I just wanted to see the goddamn number."

Mammon blinks, head tilting. He mutters something under his breath as he stands, breaking eye contact.

She thought he was upset over sharing a drink? Far from it, but he wasn't going to clarify if that's the conclusion she came to.

Still holding onto her hand, he strings her up as he gets out of his seat.

"Better ya' don't. This cunt wouldn't even be able to take care of ya'." [F/n] rolls her eyes. Though it didn't go unnoticed, as Mammon grimaced.

"It's impossible to find anyone at all when you scare everyone off." She growls lowly.

"Don't fuckin' hiss at me doll. I'm savin' ya from the embarrassment."

"The embarrassment of what exactly?"

"Of goin' out with the lower class, hells y're considered a knight for the Goetia ain't ya'? Y're not gonna get anythin' worthwhile in some random mutt."

[F/n] swats her tail very irritably, yanking her wrist back forcefully.

A loud tear following in the process.

"I can be with whoever the fuck I want and feel like, I'm not some goddamn princess."

Mammon looks at his glove, seeing as the motion of her pull had tore through the material. It was a reminder of how sharp her scales were.

It wasn't deep enough to cut his actual skin. But the damage on his glove was done. A rush of anger at her defiance. 

He sneers, looking between the café and her short figure. A cloud of green exits through his teeth as he grips her by the neck, lifting her effortlessly to his face.

[F/n] grabs his wrists, squeezing equally as hard, as her wings flutter behind her to give herself some leverage and room to breathe.

She looks genuinely shocked for a moment, though it only took a second for her to regain composure to glare at the sin with bared teeth. Scales began to form on her complexion. 

Mammon stares deeply into her eyes with a menacing smile. His miniature eyes emitting a soft glow.

"REMEMBER Y'R PLACE BENEATH ME BEFORE I REMIND YA'."

He let's her go, watching as she wobbly lands on her feet.

I gust of wind hits his face as she flapped her wings to soften the fall. The scales that covered her face immediately erase as the tension breaks with a longer sharp inhale of air.

They had instantly gained the attention of everyone around them if they hadn't already, silence deafening.

[F/n] felt humiliated. Hurt. Used.

Defeated, for once.

"I don't fuckin' pay ya to run 'round with y'r bitch hormones. I hired ya' to serve me and me only."

[F/n] bites her lower lip, her claw reaching up to feel where his met her throat.

That was the first time he'd ever grabbed her like that. Sure he'd scream and threaten her before, even swung at her at times however each time he did so slow enough to miss.

He'd chuck random items in reach sometimes knowing she could just dodge or fly out of the way.

It never crossed further than that.

Now to be grabbed by the neck? That was new.

The trace of his hand lingered warningly as she tried to sooth over her bruised skin.

She looked up at him, tail tucked in between her legs.

He would only ever harm people he saw replaceable. His subordinates. The realization came crashing down on her incredibly hard.

He could've just as easily killed her in that moment, snapped her neck and that would've been it.

Did their history mean nothing to him? 

What changed?

"Fuck you..." It came as a whisper.

Unsure of whether he heard that or not, he chose to ignore it either way in favor of her tail.

He pointed at it, releasing a laugh as if it was the most amusing thing he'd seen.

It felt nauseating. One moment he was warm: the next, cruel.

Despite all the time spent, she concluded he never saw her as anything further than another form of entertainment.

An animal he can poke and prod for a reaction. Even in her state of shock all he did was laugh. The sound echoed in her head.

A familiar tone rings, buzzing. And Mammon instantly snaps out of his laughter.

He fishes through his pocket to pick up his phone.

His alarm was going off.

"Ahh fuckin' bitch— meeting is about to start." He groans, recovering quickly.

"C'mere." He demands, forgiving the glare she shot at him as he pulled her arm so forcefully she knew she'd bruise.

Mammon teleports the two of them into his office.

The jiggles of coins chime as he lands into his web, [F/n] perched beside him.

Her eyes widen slightly, trying to adjust herself in a better position. She tugs on one of her wings stuck into the webbing with an irritated scowl. He quickly removed the damaged glove and snaps a new one in its place out of thin air.

Mammon, who's busy with a drumstick he seemingly pulled from nowhere, nonchalantly untangles her wing in a simple swipe.

He stops chewing for a second to give her a toothy smirk: [F/n] returning a huff.

"Oh come off it will ya', ya' bitch?"

"We need to talk."

Mammon, who doesn't give it any thought, takes another bite of his food.

"More bitchin'." He imagines.

"Some other time."

[F/n] looks away from him, curling her tail around her leg to try and provide some sort of self comfort. She felt disappointed.

Despite all the breakthroughs made in their partnership, he still treated her like an object. His object. Something he was free to do whatever he wanted to. Truth be told, it stung deeply.

It was the only thing she could think about lately.

There was no denying Mammon grew incredibly on her, she only wished he felt the same in return. Maybe then he wouldn't be so needlessly mean.

Was it something she did? Something she didn't do?

There was no point in even thinking about it, [F/n] didn't want to be embarrassed again. She refused.

Security open the doors of his office, and in come a small group of incubi.

The one leading the group takes a quick bow before the two, tipping his hat while smiling on his way up.

Both watch as they fill the room, trotting with some briefcases in hand. The thumps of their boots semi-absorbed into the carpet they walked on.

"What an honor to see Mammon and his little butterfly, even more so present our wonderful idea to." He starts, slowly pacing left and right.

"We all know about the massive, massive, slaughter that came of the drakon specie during the first war with heaven. Terrible thing really." He smirks.

[F/n] raises her brow, crossing her arms further.

"A bigger shame would be to allow the fun of them go." The incubus pulls out his phone to project a screen before them.

[F/n] and Mammon look less than impressed.

"I present to you the dragon dildo, made with real dragon scales! The synthetic crap can't compare to this." He chuckles, arms extended either way.

The incubi look impressed by their own work. "Dragon scales are the hardest material in all of hell. This thing would be fucking indestructible! It's every horny sinner's dream!"

Mammon yawns, waving a finger.

"And how exactly are ya' going to farm real scales? There's hardly a handful of drakons in all o' hell left mate n' the survivors are all considered royalty."

"Well my good sir, that's where we were hoping you would come in. Seeing as you already possess one of them. I'm sure the king of greed wouldn't mind parting with it in turn for a greater profit."

[F/n] leans out of her seat, seething at the disrespectful implication. "Are you stupid or suicidal?"

The incubus hands one of his partners the briefcase, who held it sideways.

"Oh but my dear, you are very valuable. Your title as knight is only a benefit you see. You can be a brand on its own with how infamous your status was."

He starts unclipping the handles of the case.

"My title was granted to me because of how efficient I was in fighting angels. You— I'd MOP the floor with you."

Mammon tugs her back onto his side. His expression doesn't say much, however, the hand planted around her thigh possessively said it all.

"Y're gonna die for wastin' my time." He snarls, grinning wildly.

Mammon snaps his fingers and in rushes his security of robot Fizzarollis.

[F/n] felt him squeeze her thigh as he presses her deeper into his side. Her initial anger melting as her heart beats faster in reaction. [F/n] stares up at him, his image burning into her mind.

Her hand rested on his chest— able to feel his warmth, his breathing, it felt too intimate.

She felt his heartbeat at her fingertips, beating a tad bit faster than usual.

Then, she remembered. She thought his claim over her was nothing more than superficial, for looks, all this to keep her obedient and lull her back into his claws until the next time she slightly agitated him.

She looks back at the group, frowning.

"Shame, really. I was hoping you'd cooperate for your sake." The incubi frowns.

He opens his briefcase, incubi's devilish smile doesn't go unnoticed.

[F/n], unable to say anything in time, connects two and two as a familiar glint reflects off the metal brandished.

Breaking out of Mammon's grasp, she straddles him and extends her wings— covering as much of him as she possibly could.

A glowing bullet hits [F/n] directly the bend of her wing, the jolt of pain sucking the wind out of her as she slips onto Mammon's stomach.

The incubi's angelic revolver smokes at the barrel.

Security tackles the gunman.

They struggle to get each of his henchmen into cuffs, but with increasing numbers it quickly becomes apparent the gunman along with his goons has no chance.

Mammon immediately moves to shield [F/n] with his body, placing her onto the web. They both look at wound, [F/n] hissing as she tries to stretch her injured wing.

"Fuck— A-Are ya' alright? I didn't think..."

"I'm fine Ammo, he just nailed my joint. That's it." She interrupted, groaning.

His face turns between her injury and her expression several times. He looked worried. His eyes glossed. 

[F/n] frowns.

Electricity flies off of Mammon, turning to look at the commotion behind him. Panic quickly turns into rage as he bursts out of his confined costume with a deafening yell.

The room fills with green.

Sounds of screaming immediately follow.

Mammon smashes some of the incubi into the floor, completely crushed under his weight. He makes sure to smear them in, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he does so.

Those unfortunate enough not to cease on impact were left wailing in agony: taking a fistful of the carpet in a hopeless attempt to pull themselves away with a gaping hole going through their back to their stomach..

It was messy.

The blood from their bodies popped similarly to that of water-balloons. It was a gross, alleviating sight. [F/n] could take comfort knowing sinners like these wouldn't be able to come after her again.

After having his fun, Mammon darts his head towards the remaining incubus.

His mini spider eyes radiated a toxic green as he slinked over. The two robo-fizzies who had captured him meekly raised him towards Mammon: who instantly snatches the man and brings him towards his eye level.

"PLEASE N—"

"B̴͍͚̀E̴̯̘̊G̴͈͍͝ ̸̯̩̌F̸͖̗̈́Ò̸͉́Ṛ̶̪͆ ̶͓̑͒Y̷̥͌͂Ŏ̴̖̩̒U̷̲̳͆͌Ṙ̶̟̂ ̸̦͓͂L̶͍̺̈́Ḯ̸̬F̶̨͓͋̅E̵̩̦̋."

Before even giving him the chance, his please come strangled into whispers as Mammon squeezes him in his fist.

He exhales a large green cloud onto his pitiful expression as he attempts to gasp for air, coughing violently in response. A crack erupts.

Mammon drops him to the floor, watching as he contorted with a deafening scream. Observing him cry for a moment: he does the same as he dealt with the ones previously, popping him like an unwanted pimple.

His breathing labored, the high coming down upon realizing he was the last of the group.

Mammon raises one of his bloodied spider legs out of a fresh carcass, inspecting it, grumbling something under his breath.

The security group of robo-fizzies seem unsure on how to proceed, each of them timidly watching awaiting orders.

"The fuck are ya' looking at? Get this cleaned up NOW!" He roared.

The robots scrambled, tumbling over each other as they struggled to organize themselves.

Mammon slinks back towards [F/n], expression instantly softening.

She lets out a whine, yanking out the glowing particle as the pain of it courses through her back. "Gods fuck that hurt..." [F/n] bit her tongue, aimlessly tossing the bullet at the floor.

"Shit, let's go get ya' patched up beautiful." He mumbles, taking her carefully into his arms as if she'd shatter entirely at the slightest bump.

"Fucking— OW!"

"Ahh can ya' fuckin' hold still for a minute mate!?"

Mammon quickly wraps a thick webbing around her wing, using a splint to keep it straight in place.

[F/n] squirms, suppressing the acid-ball forming at her throat. Mammon makes his final wrap as he sticks the web onto itself, hands gently caressing her wing.

He sighs.

Neither of them say anything for a moment. The silence deafening as the reality of the situation sinks in.

He frowns, gently letting go of his work.

Moving to cup her cheek as he turns her expression towards him even gentler, afraid he would somehow shatter her.

"Why the face? What's the matter beautiful?"

There it was, again, the rapid beating of her heart over his artificial pet names.

"Nothing. Just... I can't fucking believe I got shot right in the elbow." She mumbles, sparing a glance at his handiwork on her wing.

"Normally my scales are able to tank angelic bullets... Maybe I'm becoming weak." [F/n] sighed.

"I, uh, well ya'know... That bullet would'a sent me to the bloody hospital. Cunt aimed for my head." Mammon swallows.

He drags a finger under the fabric of his neck, pulling on it momentarily.

"And honestly... I think y're the only bloody demon crazy enough who'd ever do anything like that for me."

He strokes the webbing gingerly, feeling the material brush against the rest of her scales. He paused.

Mammon tenses slightly as he rehearsed his next sentence in his mind dozens of times, feeling awkward as the very unfamiliar phrase leaves his tongue.

"So —uh— I appreciate ya' more than ya' think..."

It falls silent as her face hues.

Though it doesn't bother him remotely, continuing to massage around the bend of her wing.

If only he were consistently like this. Then it would make the signs so much more visible.

Visible he actually wanted her.

[F/n] swallows thickly, doing her best to calm the trot in her chest. She knew despite everything if she could go back in time she wouldn't change the outcome of it.

Even in the chaos of it all she cared too deeply about him to imagine him hurt. With that, the wave of knowing she completely lost to him finally came crashing down on her.

Their game of chess was finally concluded, he won, and that's why she needed to get out.

"Mammon we really need to talk."

Her wing pulls away from his petting, curling back into its usual space. He seemed disappointed as the warmth of her injured limb left his grasp.

"What about?"

Her lips quiver, the frown on her expression breaking through the poker face she tried to maintain. Her eyes water, tail curling.

She thinks of all of their mishaps together. To when she first agreed to work with him, their first banter, their first success together, how they progressively got more and more comfortable with each other.

She went from someone behind the scenes to being his only companion. He was a hothead, but so was she. But their differences felt too great: the hot and cold treatment was driving her crazy.

"We need to end our contract."

Mammon blinked. Frozen.

He slowly clenches his fists impossibly hard.

"Why? Was it because o' that fuckin' incubus? Y-Ya' watched me kill 'em. I promise next time I—"

"It's not that. None of that."

"Then what is it? Fuck changed?"

"Mammon as much as I love being here with you and working alongside you, I just can't be around you anymore."

It was obvious he didn't understand, his pause with unsure searching eyes sought to try and read the static expression she did her best to maintain. 

"I'm sorry."

Mammon felt himself burn. He felt his insides ignite with such intense desperation with a feeling he didn't entirely recognize.

Even knowing her more basic tasks could be given to someone else to fill just as easily did nothing to reassure him.

Hells he didn't feel this lost when Fizz quit his position. He got over that so insanely fast. It was deeper than that.

This was the only person he remotely cared about in all of hell resigning.

The idea felt so unreal.

"I'm so sorry." [F/n] repeated.

The click of her boots echo as she walked towards the double doors of his bedroom. Like a whisper, she faded.

Mammon watches as her tail hovers just above the ground. Immediately noting how she didn't just drag it as she normally would. The low rattle it'd make was erased, as if she wanted to create the least bit of noise possible.

Why? Did he scare her?

Nonsense. She was the only one who wouldn't cave to his ridiculous disrespect despite his threats. And though it did get in his nerves initially, it grew on him and made everything in his life new again.

He enjoyed hearing her voice.

Hearing her talk about frivolous, nonsensical, shit. Enjoyed observing the smallest things about her.

Like the way she would hide the joy in her expression but unable to maintain the same façade in her eagerly wagging tail.

Or the way her wings would flutter for a second whenever she was blushing.

Or when she would get too excited her hair would pulse the color of her element. And how whenever she's extremely upset her clear complexion starts forming scales as if she were ready to morph.

Or how she sometimes has difficulty not tearing clothes due to the sharpness of her claws. She would always let out a loud groan and a few swears before deciding if it were salvageable.

He felt electricity course through his body. His eyelid twitching.

[F/n] hugged herself, shutting the door behind her as she power walked through his manor.

She used her sleeve to wipe away the tears before they could spill. Quietly whimpering to herself to alleviate the ache in her chest.

She doesn't get very far however, before snapping out of her emotions as a loud bang interrupts her.

[F/n] points her gaze backwards, watching the doors fly open while cracking at the force of his push.

"OUR CONVO AIN'T OVER!"

She backs up hesitantly as Mammon runs at her. The thumping of his soles grew louder, seemingly indifferent at the idea he may trample her.

Clouds of swamp green smoke exit through his teeth. He halts just before her, punching a hole through the wall next to them to release his rage. Chips of brick and dust recoil along with his fist.

"You— YA' THINK YA' CAN JUST JOG OFF?" He growled, leaning down as he stared at her.

"Whatever idea ya got in that pretty lil' head o' yours, toss it. I won't break our contract. You are MINE."

[F/n] sighed, eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head at him.

"You don't get it." Her disbelief erases as her head comes to point towards his.

She snaps her fingers and out manifests a golden sheet between them with both their signatures held within the bottom. 

"It's written agreement in our contact that only requires the consent of one party to break it."

Mammon felt a drop of sweat come down his neck.

He froze. The pain grew.

And she was right, the section she was referring to glowed faintly among the rest of the text as she highlighted it. Demanifesting as she withdrew her hand.

"A rule you imposed since you were initially skeptical about my performance in your estate."

"I- I... Fuckin'..."

It goes silent.

The rush of anger evaporated from his body with the sparks. Feeling at a loss on what to say, Mammon swallows thickly as he blinks.

He reaches a hand to clutch the material over his chest, squeezing it.

His gaze eventually trails back to hers.

His mind returns to the thought of massive their height difference was. She was so small compared to him. It made his heart chirp. His hand comes up to erase the flustered look looming on his features.

Mammon recollects himself as best he can in a pathetic attempt. He brushes his hat shakily, the bells chiming as the material bounced back.

"So then tell me why—?"

[F/n] growls, pressing her claws into her palm.

"STOP!" She shouts at him, quickly wiping away at the corner of her eyes. "D-Don't make this needlessly complicated."

Again with the tears, only this time she couldn't prevent them.

Mammon frowned, reaching out to her. He wanted to console her, wipe away those tears. It pained him knowing he was the source.

The tip of his index finger brushed against her cheek unable to get far.

[F/n] swatted away his hand. And that hurt him.

"You fucking... g-goddamnit you fucking dumbass... Can't you see what's going on?" She hissed stomping a few steps away from him.

"I fell so hard for you, and it fucking blows because I can't just have you." She turned towards him.

[F/n] gestures to herself angrily through her cries. "Do you fucking get it now?! I'm in LOVE with you— that's why I need to get the hell away from you. I want to be something more to you but you'll only ever see me as your subordinate."

She shouted, adrenaline coursing through only heighted by her emotional outburst.

Mammon grabs her despite her struggling with his lower pair of hands, leaning over and forcing her to allow him to clean her face.

He absorbs her tears through the material of his upper pair of gloves with gentle strokes.

She grips his wrists with enough force that'd dislocate them if he were any other sinner. He felt her tremble against him.

How could he not notice her pain before?

How long ago did she start feeling this way?

There was a pool of regrets swimming in his chest and among them the biggest was not erasing her doubts sooner.

"What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? I'm smitten with ya' dollface."

"You're a king sin— hell you outed Asmodeus for dating someone beneath him, how am I any different from that? People would think you're a hypocrite."

"Ya' think I give a remote fuck about what these cunts think? I'm the richest fucker in all o' hell, I didn't get here caring about what some bitch thinks o' me. I don't really give a flying shit about Asmodeus fuckin' some circus imp."

[F/n] immediately becomes less resistant to his advance. [E/c] eyes staring up at him in disbelief.

She searched desperately for any indication he was lying.

Mammon cups her jawline.

"I dunno how ya' haven't realized how obsessed I am with ya'... Thought it was reaaal obvious: I mean for fuck's sake I don't wanna be anywhere without ya'. Everything I do is with you." Mammon sighed nervously.

He lifted her in her arms, bringing down his face to gently set his forehead onto hers.

He didn't entirely recognize it before, but now that the cat was out of the bag it was so painfully apparent.

Everything he did was by her, to her, and for her. He found himself more temperamental and bored in the situations he had to exist without her. The cogs in his head finally spun, blushing for a mere moment as he finally admitted it out loud. 

"I'm obsessed with ya princess. I'm fuckin' crazy over you."

If her heart pounded any faster she was sure she'd pass out.

Her eyes glued to the tiny white slits in the sea of bright green within his eyes.

They both glance down at each other's lips then back at their gaze.

Immediately realizing what the other was doing, they both smash into each other desperately. Mammon felt a firework go off in his head. She was putty in his hands. A little butterfly caught in his web.

He growled.

[F/n] caresses his features, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks and pulling him closer.

A surge of electricity runs through his expression and tickles hers affectionately. It courses her hands and down her arms eagerly. 

Mammon drags his bicolored tongue across her lips, pushing himself in at the slightest gap.

Their tongues dance and with no protest Mammon explores his new territory. Their teeth clatter, Mammon doing his best not to pierce her.

The taste of coffee and pastries still lingered strongly on his saliva. Their tongues dance, aching. It's as if they couldn't get close enough to one another, both feverishly pushing into each other craving every bit of contact the other could provide.

Pleased with her submission, he makes way back into his room.

Massaging her ass with his upper pair of hands and grabbing onto her heels with the other. [F/n] releases a muffled moan.

Mammon breaks the kiss first, glancing at the spirit trail that still connected them. He licks the drool from his lips, savoring their long overdue tension-breaker.

He steals a few more pecks before taking a seat on his bed, holding onto her. He brushed a strand of her [h/c] hair out of her face.

Mammon chuckled softly, enamored with the bright hue on her complexion: gaze hungry.

Mammon stares at her. Unmoving. As his breathing very audibly becomes heavier.

It takes him a painful few seconds to snap out of his own trance.

"As much as I wanna fold ya' in my bed and have ya' take care of my stiffy— y're injured and need to rest princess."

"Oh come the fuck on Ammo, I'm fine!" [F/n] pouts, huffing while trying to feel him up through his clothes.

She slinks downwards to attempt and grind against the growing tent underneath his layers of clothes to entice him.

Mammon with every bit of self control in his body, has none of it, interwinding her hands into his instead with force as he pulls her back up to steal another peck.

"I love y're excitement but I will hurt you."

"You're no fun."

"You'll fuckin' get what you want later... Needy whore."

He scoots closer into bed.

Mammon snaps his fingers. A puff of green surround both of them, clearing quickly to reveal he had changed them into their sleepwear. He smiles softly.

His blanket flies over them as he adjusts more comfortably, plopping [F/n] on his chest.

[F/n] coils into a ball, purring happily while nuzzling herself into the crook of his neck. She quickly settles. His hand reaches to pet her hair lovingly, listening patiently as her purring gradually became more distant overtime until she drifted off entirely. 

Mammon sighed with satisfaction, captivated, only then closing his eyes. "Y're gonna stay mine forever." 

[spirit-lanterns]

I'm kind of also thinking that Android!Natasha has built-in spray that is usually meant to soothe nerves and help people fall asleep. She also probably has like, medicines, bandages and stuff, because I half-think that she might've been on the battlefield at some point (her codename being Wildfire). She definitely wasn't in the midst of fighting, like Kafka, or Topaz, but has a bit of experience due to being essentially a battlefield-nurse, along with a typical Healthcare bot. Maybe she had an owner transfer? Or maybe her previous owner was a veteran that had to go back to fighting, and brought along Natasha.

Anyway, now that her uses are mostly for Engineer, I kind've feel like Natasha would also secretly have gotten some kind of aphrodisiac spray!

(I almost feel it would be a little funny for Natasha to have "accidentally" used the aphrodisiac spray before bed when she said she was going to use lavender roomspray to help you de-stress ehee!)

BTW! We now have large-chest-lore! She stores all of the dry-medicine (bandages, band-aids, cotton balls and swabs, uhm... other, not-liquid and non-pills) in her chest for emergencies.

Ps: her scent-spray vents are under the collarbone, and on her lower back. There's two in case one expires, go dry, or if she wants to just spritz a room in passing.

"Hey! Wait a second! That doesn't work with the in-game model! If she were to spray, it wouldn't leave the inside of her clothes!"

You might be saying after you read this whole ask.

And to that I say, "uh... hmm... oh! She has a slit in her clothing for this very purpose!"

Her clothing is a little more low-cut for her top, but not by much. It's just past the collarbone, post-scent-vent

And since I think that the little dress-thingie is cute with the adorable little tassel-frills I'm just putting a slit in the back like I said previously

Huh, these ideas are a bit weird...

Anyway!

—🪽

🪽 anon just casually dissecting each Android’s model and purpose and giving them cool functions that I myself could never think of :0

I love all these ideas so much! So many interesting functions and capabilities for Android! Natasha, I like that you gave her a reason for her big chest to be used as storage for medical supplies lol. Also, I think it’d be unique if the palms of Natasha’s hands could be used as defibrillators like Baymax does, so she is useful for resuscitating people during an emergency.

I also really love the idea of Android! Natasha being an old war Android that healed soldiers on the battlefield. It would explain why she’s a healthcare android who is capable of wielding a bazooka gun 😅

[axolotlbottle]

❝Like father, like son❞

Art done by my bestie @jester0jpeg !! We both made our own versions / lore of the postal dudes & postal series!!

Postal dude 1 with his son (little kid-postal dude 2! Who we call "the postal kid!").

We actually gave them names, too! (Sorry, they're not P names, but I could care less. Feel free to call them Postal dude and Postal kid if it bothers you that much).

PD1's name is Michael Toddhunter, and his son's (PD2) name is Aster Toddhunter (hehe get it? As in "disaster").

Preface: This takes place AFTER the first postal game. This is an AU of sorts, so just erase the ending of the game + a bunch of other things, and have Michael fuck off somewhere, nobody ever knowing his identity so he gets away with everything. That was a "TLDR" explanation of it. We could maybe explain this better on a different post in the future.

Anyways! Here's some lore we have about them:

Michael is the Command Sergeant Major for U.S army's RI Arsenal. Yes, he did serve in the army before going postal in the first game. Don't ask how he got up to that rank because god knows I don't know either.

He and Aster live in the Quad cities, Illinois, aka some fuck ass midwestern region of cities that only gets some attention from the John deere company that hogs the area. Fuck john deere.

Michael is a single dad. He somehow managed to win all custody over Aster. He doesn't talk about his ex-gf.

They live in a house that's next to a trailer park, so they're not exactly dirt fuckin' poor but they ain't buying branded food either. They're still trailer park trash without living directly in the trailer park though.

Michael has tried to give Aster some sense of normality (sorta) but Aster clearly is not cut out to be a normal child. He's very rowdy, violent, and bullies the neighborhood kids (if you get the reference, you're cool).

Michael calls Aster "My little wild thing" (reference to Aster's favorite book; where the wild things are).

When Aster was 5, for Christmas, Michael gifted him a black cat he bought for $10 at the pet store ( he didn't question it). Michael cruelly didn't think the cat would last long, but that cat might as well outlive him. Aster named the cat "Kostroma" and has shoved his dad's guns up it's ass and used it as a silencer to shoot at beer bottles in their backyard. Kostroma hasn't died (nor appears to be scarred or traumatized), no matter what Aster has put him through. He's like some weird immortal cat (who surprisedly loves Aster as much as Aster loves him). Michael and Aster don't question it.

Aster loves uncrustables. His addiction literaly is grape jelly uncrustables. He has to have one once a day or else he'll start wreaking havoc in the neighborhood.

Michael brings Aster to work sometimes (usually when Aster gets kicked out of school or is being too insufferable for the neighborhood). He can't help it, and it's not like anybody can give him shit for it.

That's all we'll share for now!! Hopefully we'll post more in the future!! Me and my bestie have been working on this since like late May, and we plan to continue to work on it >;). I'll leave ya'll with this doodle I did of Kostroma cat.

[livingtobethevillain]

Okay so ive continued to think A LOT about red hood!lian. With that being said. Everyone knows that if you get too invested in a character youll give them lore. So naturally I gave her some trauma for some flavor.

(CW; gun violence, school shooting, hostage situation, implied murder/death of minor characters)

Imagine this:

Lian is at school when the men with guns invade and round everybody up into the gym. Lian is sitting quietly with the other hostages. Dutifully going through the breathing exercises that her dad taught her. Curled up with the other kids but also desperately trying to get some of the younger softer ones to quiet down and stop crying so loud. She knows how this goes. No matter how much her dad tries to shield her from the ugliness of the world she knows what happens if you draw attention in these situations. Unfortunately shes proven right.

One of the louder ones gets yanked away and thrown to the ground. Lian can't help the way she tries to jump up to help (she is her father's daughter after all) but she gets pushed down ruthlessly by one of the attackers. Her friend sits shaking at the feet of one of the men who is yelling and gesturing wildly with the gun in his hand.

Lian takes multiple deep breaths and looks up at the guy who pushed her down. The guy has his back turned, he's jeering and laughing at the horrific scene in front of them. children's lives are in danger and hes laughing.

lians eyes flick down to the unsecured gun at the man's hip and lian doesnt give herself a moment to hesitate. Her teacher follows her line of sight and desperately tries to reach out, but before her teacher can grasp onto her lian is lunging forward and snatching the gun from the man's holster.

The man whips around and steps back at the child pointing his own weapon at him. Lian stands there, breathing shakily and trembling but she feels her resolve harden upon taking all of the wide eyes laying on her shoulders. She knows her dad is a hero. He doesn't know she knows but nonetheless. It's her turn.

"Give her back" she whispers. "...What?"All eyes are on her. Lian grits her teeth and her grip on the gun steadies. It's just like those times uncle Jay took her down to the shooting range...only if the targets were living breathing human beings.

Lians face twists and she forces away tears of frustration. No. These weren't human beings. They were the scum of the earth that uncle Jay and dad always scowled at when the news came on.

"Put my friend back in the group. Or else I'll shoot." If lian had half a mind to she wouldve been proud of how steady her voice was.

Silence.

The attackers look at each other and the one holding her friend scoffs and dares to point his weapon at the little girl on the ground.

He doesnt believe her. He doesnt see how serious she is. That was his last mistake.

"You wouldn't da-"

BANG

The guy drops and then it's chaos. Lian doesn't think. She shuts down and suddenly she's dragging her friend back and into Her teachers arms and she's shooting off as many rounds as she can into any threat who gets too close. She doesn't feel the bullets that are fired back at her. The ones that barely miss and the ones that cut and sink into her skin.

She stays on guard well after the guys scatter upon hearing someone shout about "bats" and whoever else. And it isn't until she whips around to point the gun at her own father that she finally snaps out of it and drops the gun like it's burned her.

Suddenly she can't stop crying and all she can see is the bodies litering the floor. Her dad surges forward and cradles her in his arms rocking back and forth and telling her "its okay. It's okay honey, I'm so proud of you. It's okay you can rest"

[fastlikealambo]

Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader

Chapter Two

table of contents.

Chapter One.

Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.

Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This will not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.

Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and  if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.

Warnings: blood, violence, poison.

Thanks for the love on chapter one! If you want to see chapter three, comment or reblog, feedback makes me want to continue!

Perhaps before you begin those games, you should understand how you got in the protective arms of one Coriolanus Snow.

You had three rules.

Never be seen.

Never take what you could not carry.

Never intervene.

How did the daughter of teachers from District 6 make it all the way to and from the capitol not once, not twice, but multiple trips over multiple years?

Desperation and sick parents do it every time.

It’s thought that most folks from District 6 hate transportation but the glassy eyes and wet coughs from the people you loved most in the world had you sneaking onto trains, hovercraft, anything that moved when you aged out of tesserae. 

Some thought you’d take over teaching for your ma and pa, you certainly had the education but none of the patience and sugar that is required to work with children.

What was the point of them knowing about a nation that would bleed them before it would feed them?

There were no books on your mother’s shelf that would tell the truth of Panem: 

The best future was no future.

This is tedious, let’s just skip to the  show.

“Hippity, hoppity, you took someone’s property.”

You weren’t exactly sure what a jail cell in The Captiol looked like but a science lab with bright lights and sterile white walls made you question if this was just a scenic detour before getting shot by Peacekeepers.

Peacekeepers forced you to your already bruised knees as Dr. Volumnia Gaul descended a staircase with a pep in her step. You had seen the Head Gamemaker on tv once being interviewed during The Games and you hadn’t forgotten that face since.

   “Not only did you take Capitol property, you destroyed property, you injured multiple citizens, all for an Avox. I’m sure if it still had a tongue it would have definitely said thank you for all your help. I know, why don’t we ask her?” Gaul said, skipping to a shelf and pulled a large circular jar into her arms and placed onto a table spinning it in front of you.

The head of the Avox you had tried to help faced you, eyes open in the fluid.

It all had happened so quickly, you had waited for a couple to leave their home for the evening before scaling the side and entering through an open window one of their guards who kissed with his teeth left open.  You followed your rules, had the fancy fur underwear in hand, and headed out the window when you noticed the couple had a son.

A son that liked to hit a woman who couldn’t speak, let alone fight back.

It all went downhill from there.

   “Are you happy now? Did the little thief save you?” Dr. Gaul asked the head, lifting the jar to her ear for a moment, before proceeding shaking it from side to side as if the head was shaking itself to say “no.”

 You gave no inclination of fear, forcing your mind to pretend Gaul was holding a jar of sugar instead and wet your cracked lips to speak.

“If you’re going to kill me, may I ask that you do it now?” 

 The peacekeeper raised their gun to bring it down upon your head but Gaul merely lifted her hand to stop the guard and cocked her head in front of you.

  “Good skin and clear eyes which tells me you haven’t seen a drop of Morphling in your life, good girl!  Let’s see those teeth! ” Dr. Gaul’s gloved fingers wrench your mouth open, quick enough to avoid your attempt to bite down hard.

  “Not a crooked canine in sight, what a marvel of district 6 dentistry! I’ve been watching you for the last year and a half, you know.  At first I thought you were a rebel spy lurking here and there in a sad attempt at revolution but you have a pattern: you seduce, you steal, you scatter. Never the same capitol house, never the same loot, but always the same goal: self-servitude.  You, little girl, are smart, silver tongued, and most importantly, you are selfish.”

Was the doctor incorrect?

You had stolen enough and traded enough to keep your parents healthy months ago, why did you keep coming back here?

  “What do you want from me?” You asked quietly as Gaul finished her examination of you and hopped into a chair.

“By yourself you managed to steal anything you wanted, charm anyone you wanted, all while going unnoticed in The Capitol for years.  Instead of cutting out that silver tongue of yours, I’m going to use it for the future of Panem.” Dr. Gaul said, damn near giddy.  

Gaul pressed a button that dimmed the lights in the lab and brought a screen down from the ceiling. In a few short seconds, the screen came to life and footage of a blonde man in a crimson suit and coat going about his day, sharp face never once cracking a smile.

   “Let me introduce you to Coriolanus Snow, top student, heir of Strabo Plinth, and the product of exemplary Capitol breeding. He’ll be graduating from The University in a month and in a few short years with proper backing, he will be President of Panem. He’ll be taking a position at President Ravinstill’s office upon graduation but before that he’ll need to take a spouse. That, my pretty thief, is where you come in.” Gaul said.

   “Don’t you have Capitol people for this? What about that ‘fine capitol breeding’? A district girl such as myself would only sully that.”  You said slowly as if talking to an infant.

  “With society families there’s dowries, overinvolved mothers, there isn’t time to mold one in the image Panem requires.  Why pin a veil on a peacock when I can dress up a viper instead? For the good of Panem, you will charm Coriolanus Snow, you will court him, you will spy on him, and in one month, you will marry Coriolanus Snow, little thief.”

You’d rather die.

Wouldn’t you?

    “And if your precious protege can smell District on me?” You snarled and a peacekeeper made you regret that decision immediately.

   “ He’ll never know. You and Mr. Snow share the same look of distinct dissatisfaction in your eyes, dissatisfaction is a bitter root but it can be pulled, can be twisted into something powerful and no Capitol dove can accomplish that. Only those who have tasted blood in their mouths desire it again.”

  “And if I refuse?”

“It’s easier to show you.” Gaul said, clicking another button. The video of Snow vanished and in its place was the grainy footage of a man and a woman hooked up to various tubes and wires.

It took longer than it should have for you to realize those were your parents.

  “You’re not the only one who can slip in and out of people’s homes, little thief.  Just a little something I’m working on in their morning porridge and by this afternoon, their lungs belonged to me.  This is a live feed by the way, so if you’d like to refuse, you are welcome to do so and we can watch your ma and pa stop breathing together. I’ll get my milk and crackers! ”

There was no guarantee she wouldn’t just kill them tomorrow or the next day or the day after that.

A rebel would stand up and refuse Dr. Gaul no matter the cost.

A fool would plead for their life and the lives of their loved ones.

Neither a fool nor rebel, you were something else entirely.

A survivor.

You stood up, shoulders back, head up, and completely ignored the sounds of the machines keeping your parents alive to look straight at Dr. Gaul.

  “When do we start?”

Coriolanus Snow studied people.

He studied his classmates, his professors, he knew the routines and habits of everyone he did and did not come in contact with on a daily basis whether they knew or not.  There was a great tragedy in the fact that he would have made an amazing officer with sight like his. Not a thing got past him, nothing useful anyway.

Except you.

He had never seen a coat so cut to the human body before outside of Tigris’ handiwork, from across the street he studied the exact spot he could put his hands on that coat, on your body. The book obscured your face but it mattered not to Coryo as no one with a coat like that could be anything short of divine.

And as Coriolanus Snow was never wrong, he was given a glimpse at that magnificent visage when you dropped your book in the street, those full lips and smooth brown cheeks, oh what a vision that befell him.

A vision that was soon to be flattened by a car.

If he was honest with himself, had you been someone he knew, someone he had previously studied, perhaps he would have let the car hit you, but this was useful for him, he’d make the Captiol News that night with Flickerman spinning tales of his heroism.

He could not let blood spoil such beauty.

He surprised himself at how quick he was, one moment on the top of the university steps, the next tumbling to the side of the road, his body covering yours as you both came to stop, his hand on the back of your head to keep it from slamming into the curb.

Words died on his lips, the question he had mentally prepared to ask with careful false concern left him the moment he truly looked into your eyes, and Coriolanus did not only want to know if you were injured.

He wanted to know everything.

He carefully removed himself from your person, attempting to keep the displeasure at his previously perfect now filthy wardrobe and scraped hands from his features as he settled beside you.

 “Are you hurt?” He asked, impressed at the hint of actual sincerity that bled into his voice as you sat up gingerly.

“I don’t think so.  Thank you, I wasn’t paying attention, are you hurt?” You asked, a voice like velvet that seemed to surround him and he shivered as he took inventory of his own injuries and shook his head.

 True to their nature, not one person on the street offered to lend a hand and a Peacekeeper was making their way to them. He would hand you off to a peacekeeper and that would be that.

He did not want that.

So he did what he did best, took control of the situation and an opportunity arose when he heard you admit a small moan of pain, eyes wide and fixated on your ankle.

  “May I?”  He asked and you nodded.

 Coriolanus removed your shoe, tender fingers brushing over the swollen skin and he briefly wanted nothing more than to know what his lips would feel like on that silky skin.

He cleared his throat and regained control of himself, sitting straight up.

“ It’s not broken.  I don’t live far from here, my grandmother can take a look at that if you’d like? I promise you’ll be perfectly safe.” 

Grandma’am would rather lick a tribute than tend to an injured stranger but you didn’t need to know that.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to go to the trouble.” You said, attempting to slowly stand, crumpling just enough for Coriolanus to quickly steady you before gently putting your arm around his shoulder and his other under your knees, lifting you into his arms.

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m Coriolanus Snow, it’s a pleasure to be of service.” Coryo said with that winning Snow smile, adjusting you in his arms with care.

After all, roses were to be cradled.

Until that day, Coriolanus Snow noticed everything and everyone, useless and useful. 

Yet while focused on you, he had not noticed that the car that had almost killed you both was nowhere to be found.

That’s chapter 2! If you’d like this story to continue, please comment, reblog, give me feedback! Let me know what you think about this story! Thank you for reading.

[theanxiousghostartist]

Bill Cipher and the Mind/Body Problem

I have been thinking about this for a while lol. Most of my information here is from my Psychology lectures (I'm an Art Therapy major, which is a type of therapy, so I have to do a lot of psychology work :D)

The Mind/Body Problem is a debate in psychology and philosophy about what is the mind. One view, the Mentalist view, suggests that the mind is a separate entity from the brain itself, something that could possibly be outside of the body itself, the more philosophical idea. The other view, known as Materialism, suggests that the mind IS the brain, and that everything is a result of physical functions, the more psychological view.

I wanted to explore how Bill Cipher's possession would fit into this.

Mentalist point -> Since the mind is something supernatural and non-physical, Bill Cipher would possess someone by accessing this space and then using this space to connect to the person's brain. Basically, he would attack the mind first (the personality, the memories, ect), then go after the physical functions through the brain (sight, motor controls, speech, ect). This view would make more sense in-lore with us seeing Dipper float out of his body when Bill possesses him, as well as him being able to communicate with Mabel, and Stan's memories only being purged from his mind when he kills Bill. Furthermore, his mind is more or less under his control and looks like he wants it to (the Mystery Shack living room). Furthermore, this would fit with the idea of the memory gun, as it would be easier to target memories via the mind rather than memories via the brain, without messing up things like personality and motor functions. Materialist point -> In this viewpoint, Bill would possess someone just by entering their brain and take everything over at once. This seems to fit closer to his possession style, as we saw when he possessed Dipper, in which he had almost immediate control of both Dipper's memories and his physical functions. Dipper floating out of his body could also be explained in this theory, as people who have near-death experiences often describe seeing themselves float above their body during this experience, so it could explain Dipper floating after Bill's possession: he is still there, it's just his body making sense of what is happening. Of course, this doesn't explain Dipper being able to communicate with Mabel through a sock puppet, which is purely supernatural and more aligns with the Mentalist point. The memory gun is easier to explain than the possession with this point - I'll use Fiddleford as an example for this one. While the memory gun targets memories specifically, it still could work with the brain being the mind, if it targets, say the Hippocampus (the main point of memory encoding and retrieval), therefore, it will mainly affect memories. With Fiddleford, it wasn't only his memories that were damaged, but his personality, and even his motor functions (like his eyes). This would fit more in the Materialist point, as it makes more sense that the memory gun would interfere with things that would cause these changes, whilst trying to remove his memories. The brain is a finicky thing after all. We could also explain Stan's experience before he kills Bill with a combination of the previous theories. He is having a near death experience; therefore, we can assume his is experiencing a near death experience hallucination, which is why we would see "his mind." Also, since he has less exposure to the memory gun than Fiddleford (even being able to get his memories back), we can assume that the memory gun targeted specific memories in the hippocampus and blocked them from being encoded/retrieved. As he was able to retrieve his memories (thanks to Mabel), the memory gun in this case, gave him temporary amnesia and didn't affect the rest of his brain noticeably.

Taking into account that Gravity Falls is a supernatural show, both theories could fit it! The Mentalist theory is a metaphysical theory; thus, it fits the show stronger in some respects. However, the Materialist theory is a physical theory, and can have some interesting implications, while still fitting the show when taking into account the supernatural elements.