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empressofmankind · 5 months

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On My Silent Days

I Miss You A Little Louder

[Crocodile x female!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 7k / 15 pages

A/N: Writing this has been my whole life the past 5 days, as anyone who has frequented my Dash recently can attest. I am obsessed with their chemistry.

Technically, this is part of 'The Show Must Go On'. You don't have to read it, but I recommend it. You'll get to know Shivs and her helter-skelter relationship with Buggy which sits as the background to this whole ordeal.

You see, this is like, Arabaste arch at the earliest - Cross Guild era more likely. By then, Shivs and Bugs have rollercoastered through so much bullshit and they've come out rock solid on the other side somehow. Clown keeps failing up, even with this relationship. Sir Crocodile finds the whole thing insulting, to say the least. And seems to think it is one well-placed remark away from utterly crumbling. Jealous ex, whomst? My dude, you fucked that up yourself. Repeatedly. You had more chances than you have fingers. Chemistry aside, this is absolutely a desert of his own making.

What else do you need to know? Shivs is only 2 or 3 years younger than Buggy (i.e. my age, come sue me), but Crocodile is 5 years older than the clown. So, she's in her mid 30s, he's in his mid 40s. She originally met him when he was maybe 28? Do the math. Oh yes, and for those less familiar with the Cross Guild era: our favourite clown has managed to accidentally become the lauded public face of what is actually Mihawk and Crocodile's venture. Understandably, the ex-warlords are a little miffed by this and spend decent amounts of time physically abusing poor Buggy.

Shivs' absolutely flawless plan is basically swapping sexual favours with her ex for get-out-of-jail-free cards for the clown.

My girl literally barging in here telling Croc: "I'll take ur cock if u leave my clown alone."

Yes. That's it. That's the plot.

She almost had him, too. Arguably, she had him the entire time. And then he gdamn snapped her from the pond edge like an unwitting gazelle in the last minute. Cuz we all - her included - forgot who we're dealing with for 14.5 pages straight. APPARENTLY.

screams into a pillow

Tag(s): Oh? Ok. Sexual favours! Is she fucking her boss? No, but he always makes it feel that way. Is she fucking her ex? Yes. Are they technically still married? Maybe. Blow jobs? Deep throat. Size kink? 100%. Filthy language. Graphic sex. Soft dom? Power bottom? I am on the fence. Little girl vibes on the margins, like, he tries. She too sassy and sooner a brat. Oh, orgasm denial! Big time. Humiliation? A little bit. Stretching? Yes. Moar size kink. Choking? Big yes. Spoiling? Also yes. She deserves nice things. Power imbalance? Yes. In whose direction? It kind of flip-flops. Did I need to spend so many words on their smoking and his cigars? Probably not, but it scratched an itch. With them, it counts as foreplay; I am sure. You know you're doing well when he takes the damn thing outta his mouth. World class banter, too. If I may say so myself. But really, the bottom line is that it's just oral and PIV dressed up real fancy.

ON MY SILENT DAYS

I MISS YOU A LITTLE LOUDER

The double doors were as tall and foreboding as Shivs remembered. All bevelled hardwood and delicate gilding. She stood before them, gazing up. In the dead centre sat a brass knocker shaped like a bananawani's head, polished to a sheen.

Knocking was for people with appointments, and waiting wasn't something she planned on doing here ever again. She put her palms against the cold, expensive wood and pushed the massive doors open as if breaking a siege. They swung on smooth hinges despite their weight and struck the marbled walls with resounding booms.

The opulent office beyond was exactly as she remembered. Marquina walls, fishbone parquet floors, blackwood furniture. The taxidermied juvenile bananawani set in the wall vitrine behind his desk was new. What had been there before? A map? A ship? No, a stone. An artefact of some kind riddled in curious glyphs.

Crocodile glanced up from his papers and the irritation flitting across his scarred face in the split second before he realised who'd dared barge in, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. How often had she seen someone shrivel into a desiccated husk straight after that look?

Shivs held his pale gaze, set her jaw and strode into his office as if down the plank.

The creak of leather as he leaned back in his seat. “You know I've killed people for less.”

She paused in front of his outrageous statement piece of a desk. She put her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and forced her shoulders to unclench, her stance to relax. If Buggy’s dumb luck had managed to rub off on her in these past months, then now would be the time for it to start working for her.

“Lucky I am not ‘people’,” she said as she crossed her fingers in her pocket.

Amusement squinted his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched up behind his cigar. “No, you're not,” he said as he rose.

Shivs was not short. Not by any regular definition of the word. Buggy was only a head taller than her. She hadn't forgotten how tall Crocodile was, not really. And yet, as he came around his desk and towards her, there appeared to be no end to him as he approached. If she reached up, stretched her arm, she could nick his cigar. But only just.

"Do you still smoke?" he said as he stopped well within her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He took a flat, brass case from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to her. She remembered it. Remembered the exquisite taste of the narrow cigarillos in it.

"No."

"Liar." His gaze flicked down along his cigar at her. "You smell of cigarettes, doll."

"I have changed my ways."

Humour flitted under his gravelly voice. "For the worse."

Shivs pursed her lips. "It's an expensive lifestyle when they don't come free with a goodnight kiss."

"Hah."

The bark of laughter actually reached his eyes, crinkling their crow's feet for a moment. He held out the case to her again. "You poor thing. I do support charities, you know."

She took it this time and flipped it open. The rich waft of tobacco and sweet Goji berries greeted her as if no time had passed at all. Might as well enjoy her sojourn back to hell while she could.

She put one of the thin cigarillos between her lips and let him light it. Watched the firelight catch and reflect in his rings. Took a moment to savour the blend, rich and sweet as polished Beli.

They were very good.

Always had been.

Shivs took the cigarillo from between her lips and blew the smoke up in rings through a slow smile. They almost reached him.

Crocodile leaned down through the cloudy hoops to pluck the shoulder of her red-and-white striped sweater between thumb and index finger, a judgemental 'hmph' escaping around his cigar.

She enjoyed the expensive smoke and his fascination while it lasted. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough? Letting him treat her like a doll badly in need of a better dress up? He liked to spoil, always had. Now, more than ever, he had the means to take it to completely nonsensical levels. Her ego could take it, if that was the price of leaving Bugs alone.

Shivs indicated his everything with an up and down wave of her free hand. "No way to afford the good stuff on a waiter's salary."

He let go of the fabric to brush his thumb across the smear of grease paint near the collar, staining his skin and the gold of his ring red.

"Or a dud's haul."

He hooked the silk kerchief from his vest's breast pocket and wiped his hand. She followed the length of his arm up to his face.

"The entertainment isn't half bad."

“Yes.” He chewed the butt of his cigar, derision twitching his thin lips as he tucked the kerchief into an inside pocket of his coat. “His pathetic antics can be mildly amusing.”

Shivs’ grip on the cigarillo tightened, but she smiled pleasantly. “I like it when a man can make me laugh,” she said, pointing at him with the thin smoke between her fingers. “Even if at his own expense.”

She frowned at his broad back when he turned away from her without a witty reply, retreating to the button tufted camelback near them.

“You're not here for a social call,” Crocodile stated as he sat down, putting his arms along the sofa's curved back. Something flitted past his pale eyes, but it was gone so fast Shivs couldn't nail it. “What do you want, doll?”

Shivs rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips as if preparing to drive a hard bargain. She intended to seem casual, unconcerned. But her palms were slick with sweat and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She filled her mouth with smoke, tasting the rich flavours. Savouring them before blowing it out in small puffs through her pursed lips.

"I want you to leave him be," she said, extinguishing the cigarillo in his ashtray.

Crocodile shifted and put his shin across his knee. Her gaze flicked down and she saw him take note.

"And if I do?"

She held his gaze. One breath, two breaths, moved her jaw but didn't form the words. She wanted him to leave Buggy alone. Even if that meant taking his… beating, instead.

He blew out smoke through his nose, waiting patiently for her answer. The hint of a smile lingered as his pale eyes held hers from above the waterline of his scar. And in that moment, he reminded her so strongly of a lurking crocodile. Watching. Waiting. Biding its time to strike. It sent a shiver down her spine, and not entirely out of fear.

Shivs pursed her lips, steeled her emotions, checked her resolve. I'll do it for you, Bugs. It's a deal I know he won't refuse.

She met his intense gaze head on, then dropped hers slowly to his crotch once more. Allowed it to linger there, before looking back up.

He chewed the butt of his cigar and beckoned her. "You never could fit all of me down that skilled throat of yours."

Shivs watched him uncross his legs as she approached. She trailed her fingertips along his clothed thighs before leaning on them. It brought her face level with his and she deliberately took a moment to breathe in his secondhand smoke.

“Want to judge if that hasn't changed for the worse?” she whispered against his lips as she savoured the distinct flavours that made up his private blend.

Strong muscles flexed and relaxed under her palms, and she presumed that to mean ‘yes’.

She ran her hands down his muscular thighs, taking in their shape until her palms rested on his knees. His breathing changed, she could tell from the way he exhaled smoke. Denser palls, deeper breaths. No resistance as she pushed his knees apart far enough to kneel between them.

Brushing her fingertips across his overstated belt buckle, she smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She slipped the tooled tip through the frame, her movements slow and deliberate as she listened for the subtle shifts in his breathing. She loosened the prong with a sharp tug on the strap, using more force than was strictly necessary. An undercurrent of need laced the grunt that escaped him in response.

Shivs reached into his pants with both hands, catching his gaze as she drew his penis out, feeling it swell against her palms. She made a noise of appreciation as she let her hands slide down his shaft. His pale eyes hunting after hers when she broke their gaze to look at her fingers fitting around the base. She had not forgotten how tall this part of him was.

Leaning forward, she trailed teasing kisses from halfway down his shaft towards the tip. I’ve swallowed swords longer than this, and dicks aren’t even sharp, she thought as she flicked her tongue past the rim, playful-like. Length was only half the problem though, she knew that perfectly well.

She put a hand on his thigh and leaned on it as she ran the flat of her tongue across the head and took him into her mouth, suckling the tip. Inched his cock further with deliberately slow, short bobs, tilting her head to ensure he’d catch every movement of her lips as they worked around him. Need strained his stoic expression when she stole a glance up. A twitch of his eyebrows when the tip bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked down and drew his cock back out, watched it twitch and his grip tighten on the backrest as she felt his thigh flex under her palm.

She took him into her mouth again and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Relaxed her neck and let it slip further than before, teasing at the entrance to her throat. Nudging it, stretching it just a bit before sucking down and drawing him back out, tasting precum for her efforts.

The frustrated groan that rumbled up from somewhere deep within his broad chest sent sparks flying down her spine. This is gonna work, she thought as he reached for her head, petted her hair while she teased the precum from him with fleet, wet kisses.

“Stop messing around and swallow my cock, sweetheart,” Crocodile grunted, pale eyes alight with hunger. The petting stopped, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of her neck instead. It was like the twitch on the line that told a fisherman to react.

Shivs glanced up along his hard shaft, and reeled him in:

“Yes, Sir.”

The horny groan that drew from him, before she’d even begun to take him again, settled comfortably in her bones. Gotcha, she thought.

Shivs breathed slow, deep, steady breaths as she slid his cock along her tongue, lining him up. The head pushed past the entrance of her throat and she switched to shallow breaths through her nose. The grunts and huffs that escaped him every time she swallowed were inhuman and she needed more of it.

She slid his cock further down, felt his thighs tremble as she did. The closer she got, the more his musk pervaded every stifled breath she managed around his thick cock. It was a heavy, heady scent and she shifted her position to press her thighs together. He didn’t notice.

She stroked his legs, ran her hands up to his hips as she leaned closer, and took him deeper still. His fingers were fisted painfully tight into her hair, but his large hand followed her without force or resistance, resting heavily against the back of her neck.

Almost.

Almost there.

And then the tip of her nose bumped against his flat stomach. She could hardly smirk with his dick this far down her throat but counted on the crinkle of her eyes to work for her as she caught his gaze and slowly raised her hands, palms up. She didn’t care that they trembled.

Look. No hands, motherfucker.

Crocodile grinned down at her through a huff of smoke, cigar dangling between his teeth. She thought it looked a little worse for wear.

“The pathetic clown doesn’t know what a dirty little slut you are, does he?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice thick with lust as he petted the back of her neck. “Giving such sweet head to save his sorry hide.” He ran his fingers along her throat as if trying to feel how far down his cock had gone. “I always knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“Now,” he added as he huffed out a pall of smoke and she felt cool metal sliding around the back of her neck, barring a retreat. “I need my cock-hungry doll to make me feel good.”

Shivs dropped her hands to his hips, gripping the folds of hard muscle there for support. She slid her tongue between her bottom lip and the underside of his cock, making sloppy little noises with the slightest bob of her head. Even those small movements pressed the round curve of his hook into the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that made her squeeze her thighs together. She didn’t bother to try and hide it.

His large hand joined his hook, strong fingers digging into the back of her head, twisting into the hair there and holding her put as his thick cock twitched so far down her throat she didn’t even know anymore where precisely she felt it. She worked her throat around him, drawing rumbling moans from him that pitched.

“Ah -nngh- you feel so good, doll. So. Damn perfect.” His thighs tensed under her arms, flexing his hips with short jerks. She closed her eyes as she swallowed around him, frowning with effort. His breathy grunts as he lightly fucked her throat made her pussy throb.

Suddenly, his grip tightened like a vice and he shoved her nose-first against his hard, trembling stomach muscles, stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open as her throat strained and cramped, swallowing around him in reflex.

“Fuck, honey. Ah---! Yes, yes.” The satisfied, drawn-out moan as Crocodile spilled his hot cum down her throat reverberated through the quiet office.

Her fingers dug around his hips, tears jumping into her eyes as she gagged, feeling cum come up around his cock as stars danced into her vision. His grip weakened as he rode out his orgasm and she pulled back before he was quite done pumping cum. Shivs swallowed it mindlessly while coming up for air. His dick slid wetly out of her throat and mouth, streaks of cum connecting them before they broke.

She glanced up from his softening cock, glistening with her saliva all the way to the hilt. He’d tilted his head back, held his cigar nowhere near his mouth as he came down from his orgasm with deep, steadying breaths that expanded his wide chest and flared his nostrils.

He straightened with a lazy groan and a roll of his broad shoulders.

Shivs met his gaze, panting.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice breathy as he reached for her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The gold of his ring was smooth where his fingertip felt rough, the warm touch grounding her fried senses. It lingered at her eyepatch, lightly brushing the faded leather. “The things we let people do to our faces…”

He hooked the kerchief from his pocket and dabbed her mouth. She reached for his hand with both of hers, touching the back of it, taking the cloth. She watched him watch her as she cleaned her face.

“Don’t you have a new pretty thing? Miss Face-of-the-Casino in her cute kimono?” Shivs forced her tone to be casual, edged with light mockery, maybe. It was stupid that it’d stung when she’d seen the younger woman. An irrational, petty feeling. An old pain. And, none of her business, at any rate.

The dismissive look that flitted past his pale eyes was rather unexpected. “An investment, nothing more.”

“She’s pretty,” Shivs said. Perhaps, part of the sting had been the fact that Miss Pretty had not responded to her the way women did when they were into other women.

Crocodile looked at his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “That she is.”

Their gazes crossed and she pursed her lips. He reached for her jaw, fingertips grazing its curve. Then leaned down and pressed a peck against her frown. She sat up and chased after him as he took another draw from his cigar, stole the aromatic smoke from him as she teased her tongue into his mouth. He blew it out through his nose, taking the cigar from his mouth as he caught the back of her neck with his hook and took control of the kiss.

“You can have one if you like, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart, indicating his cigar.

And lord, if she wasn't tempted.

“You share ‘em these days?”

His derisive ‘hmph’ made her smirk as she rose to her feet.

“What about Miss Pretty? She enjoy your… cigars?” Shivs said, and noticed she’d gotten his cum all over Buggy’s sweater. Shit.

Crocodile glanced at her, pale eyes searching. “I prefer making deals with those who have something of value to offer, doll.”

Shivs put her hands in her pockets and rocked up on the balls of her feet with a mildly overacted grin. “Oh, it’s a deal then? You’ll play nice?”

“My compliance doesn’t come that cheap,” he said through a huff of smoke.

She crooked an eyebrow, risking a hint of ridicule in her tone. “Cheap? And here I was, thinking I have a unique skill up for offer.”

He actually cracked a smile as he flicked the butt of his cigar into the general direction of his desk and ashtray. Then beckoned her with hook and hand.

“Come here, doll.”

It would have been too easy.

She sauntered back to him and linked her fingers with his, curling the others around his hook, letting him draw her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shifted so his cock was between them, pressing against her clothed cunt.

“What else will it cost me?” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly riding against him. Every rub along his dick pulsed pleasure up her spine, and she hadn’t failed to notice it was already stiffening again.

He stoked the tip of his hook along her cheek as his large hand took in the shape of her firm butt, guiding her movement. “I want to know if your tight pussy can take all of me now, too.”

“Here, on a couch?” she said as she slipped her fingertips under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She trailed her hands down the revers of his vest, grabbed hold of them as she dry humped against him. “I thought you said you weren’t cheap?”

The bark of laughter that drew from him shouldn’t make her smile the way it did.

He pressed a kiss against it.

“I wouldn’t dare, honey,” Crocodile said as he gathered her up in his arms and rose smoothly from the couch, leaving his coat behind. He strode across his study and through the adjacent library to the expansive bedroom beyond. She remembered the sweeping view from its curving window wall and the sea of nightlights twinkling far below.

Instead of depositing her on his spacious bed, he set her down on the plush rug beside it. And motioned up and down her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “Take those rags off.”

Not my rags, Shivs thought as she kicked her boots aside, removed her baggy pants and grabbed the edge of the sweater. She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t like them, and she hadn’t bothered wearing one this evening either.

Fingertips traced the lacy sides of her underwear while she had the sweater pulled over her head.

“You still have those.”

He sounded…not surprised. Curious, maybe?

“No reason to get rid of perfectly fine underwear,” she said as she freed herself from the sweater, finding he’d already undressed.

“They can stay on,” he said as she folded the sweater, her hand lingering on it before she turned to him.

“For now?”

A smile twitched the corner of his lips.

“Here, doll.” He held something out to her, cream-coloured and neatly folded. It seemed small and delicate in his large hand.

When she took it, the fabric cascaded into a surprisingly classy, mid-thigh negligee of shimmering silk. The top was constructed from intricately detailed lace with tiny bananawani worked into the pattern.

“Pretty,” she said as she brushed a finger across the delicate lace. She put it on and it fit her so neatly it felt like a second skin. An outrageously luxurious second skin for the silk felt soft as sin and the lace light as air. She turned a full circle on her tiptoe, overacting it just a little. She knew he liked that.

“Looks good on you.” He reached for her head, combing his fingers through her tangled red hair, tucking stray bangs behind the strip of her eyepatch. “I’d never let you get so grimy.”

“Can’t be a dirty little slut if you wash me.”

“Hah.” Crocodile leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, just like that. “Come here before I shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”

“Don’t tempt me- ah!”

Her reply cut off when he suddenly let go, dropping her into his bed. And that was quite the distance, even if the landing was soft. He immediately climbed on top of her, caging her with his much larger body. She spread her legs, accommodating his wider hips as he reached for her breast. His thumb traced circles around her nipple through the fine lace, stiffening at his touch.

“Like what you see?”

“Always have, doll,” he rumbled against her collarbone. Though no longer smoking, she could still smell it on him. Would be able to pick it out of a crowd. Subtle tones that reminded her of burnt coffee, dry glass and cinnamon, mingling with the faint wax smell of his hair gel and heavier citric notes of his cologne.

A small gasp escaped her when he brushed the lace down and kissed her hard nipple, taking it into his mouth and licking the sensitive tip. She felt the curve of his hook press against her hip, hitching up the silk as his hand slipped between her thighs. Strong, confident fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and outer labia underneath. It ignited old desires, flickering life into fires she’d thought snuffed out.

His rough fingers traced the delicate lace, undulating with its curling, stylised waves. Her breath caught when they found the edge along the crease of her thigh. A mewl on her lips as he dipped them under the smooth fabric, fingertips grazing the warm, sensitive skin of her outer labia and sending sparkles of anticipation up her spine. The delicate fabric stretched with an alarming whimper from the seams as strong digits brushed between her folds, not quite able to reach. He grunted against her breast at the soaked pussy he found there.

She felt him slip the hook under the edge, warm from resting against her hip. The thought of him pulling her panties down with it lit up every nerve in the vague vicinity of her hips. Her eyes snapped open at the sharp jerk, the sudden cry of fabric tearing at the seam between silk and lace.

Shivs made a noise, nose wrinkling. Those were the nicest-.

“I’ll get you new ones,” Crocodile promised against the curve of her breast, his gaze down as he hooked the fabric from her hips. The hunger in his pale eyes as he looked at her pussy made her spread her legs further. He leaned down to caress her labia and press a light kiss against them that made her throb, thinking about his tongue.

A breathy huff escaped Shivs when he slid his middle finger between her folds instead, running slow circles around her inner labia. Gathering the moisture there before teasing them apart and brushing across her clenching entrance. Pleasure sizzled up her spine when he pressed it inside, mapping her inner walls and finding all the right places far too easily. If he kept this up, she was going to come very soon.

He switched to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin as he inserted a second finger. “I seem to remember you liked getting your little hole stretched,” he rumbled against her nipple, and spread his large fingers apart. She moaned at the strength in them, the ease with which they pried her open. It sent twinges of sweet, sweet pressure blazing through the haze of need fogging her thoughts.

She reached down to his hand, stroke the back of it. Found his thumb and guided it against her clit with a needy moan. Her thighs trembled as he massaged it firmly, pushed his fingers all the way in, then spread them as he pulled out. She felt his knuckles and the hard edges of his rings press into her labia when he pushed them back in but she didn’t mind, kind of liked it. She reached a hand for his shoulder, neck, grabbing hold of the tout muscle there as she arched her back towards him. His pace was torturously slow and she was loving it.

Shivs let out a drawn out whine when he stopped, pulled at his neck, wrist, knowing perfectly well neither will give an inch but trying, anyway. She tried to clench her thighs, rub them together, nurse the need smouldering in her veins, but his knees were between hers and she writhed in vain.

Crocodile shifted unto his elbow, bunching the silk further up her hips while taking his hard dick in hand. A hoarse whisper close to her ear as he guided the head against her slick pussy: “Won’t you beg for my cock, sweetheart?”

“I need to feel your cock in me,” Shivs said as she caught his hungry gaze. “Feel it fill me, stretch me.”

He grunted with barely contained need, she could see it in the straining of his back as she reached for his thick neck, folding her hands behind it. Felt it in the way his hips twitched as he pressed his shaft through her wet folds, coating it with her juices.

“Am I not a good girl, sir?”

“Yes, you are.”

Shivs moaned loudly when he entered her. Whined at the delicious pressure as he pushed deeper into her soaking wet pussy, stretching her around him. She clung to his neck, mewling with incoherent need. Her hand went to his hair, messing it up but not caring. Neither did he.

“Ah -ngh- fuck,” Crocodile grunted, his breath hot against her neck.

Shivs held onto him for dear life as she arched against his hard body, savoured the sharp pleasure of him stretching her cramping, soaking cunt wide enough to plough through. He’d not bottomed out yet. If she could take him, she’d have him wrapped around her finger.

“You’re. Fuck. As tight. As I remember. Sweetheart,” Crocodile groaned into her neck, his gravelly voice strained to the point of being near unintelligible. It was getting tougher and tougher to push further through her tight, contracting walls.

“Almost there,” Shivs whispered as she brushed a stray bang of dark hair from his eyes.

The noise he made in response was inhuman and she drank it in as she closed her eyes, spread her legs further to accommodate his hips and relaxed every muscle she could still feel. A whimper bubbled from her lips when he pushed up against something deep within her that twitched a pleasure so sharp up her spine it sat right next to pain.

“Fuck, yes,” he ground out as his hips pressed flush against hers, his breath hot, heavy pants buffeting against the crook of her neck. “Feels. So good.”

He managed to push himself up onto his elbow, satisfaction animating his whole face as he looked at their joined hips, her soft labia squashed against his pubes. Shivs whimpered, his movement nudging tight bursts of pleasure deep within her.

“I knew you could do it, doll.” His tone was thick with lust, laboured from his heavy breathing. He gently brushed a strand of sweat-slick red hair from her forehead with his hook, looking so proud. “You like getting your little cunt stuffed, don’t you?"

Shivs gave a sharp nod, struggling to form words.

“I know you do, honey,” he whispered as he rolled his hips against hers, not truly thrusting. She reached for his face with trembling hands, stroking his hard jaw. He grunted under his breath with each push and she pressed pecks against the puffs of hot breath until he responded. Until he chased her tongue back into her own mouth and pressed her head back into the pillow with the desperate force of his kiss, demanding entrance with his tongue that she was more than willing to give.

“That's all you g-got?” she whispered through a moan and a bated breath when they broke their kiss for want of air. “I b-barely feel it.”

“Ah? You want more, doll?” Crocodile pulled out with a grunt, just a fraction, before shoving himself back inside her to the hilt, making her mewl with pleasure through clenched teeth as his cock bottomed out and up against her cervix. “Shall I take you back to my study? Pound you bend over my desk, like I used to?”

Shivs whined into his mouth as she latched onto him again, arms tightening around his thick neck as her cunt squeezed around his cock from the pleasure coiling around her spine. If he took her from behind, he could probably push deeper still. Oh, she’d be in trouble.

“Who’s cheap now, hrm?” A breathy hum into her ear as the obscene slap of his hips against hers filled his bedroom. She whined in need, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain making her tremble against him. “Do you want to be my little whore again? My pretty fuck slut to sit on my cock whenever and wherever I want?”

All she could do was whine and roll her hips to meet his steady thrusts. Fingers digging into the taut muscles across his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked her deeper than she’d ever felt a man, even him. She whimpered, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain all but overwhelming her. Especially when he thrust just right, shoving his cock against a sensitive spot so deep inside her she didn’t even know she had it.

“I missed my. Pretty cocksleeve,” Crocodile grunted into her ear. “The. Only. Little slut that can take me -hng- properly.”

“Fuck me harder,” Shivs whispered, hands massaging his broad shoulders. He groaned with effort, she could feel the bridled strength in the muscles working under her palms. His pace picked up, and so did the strain in his body. Every thrust stretched her so deliciously, stimulating every needy nerve inside of her.

“Do it,” she moaned wantonly as his thrusts started to push her up on the bed, her weight no match against his strength. “I c-can take it.”

“Ah - hng- you’re. Going to. Make me cum, doll,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place as he jerked his thrusts up against her. Her mind was unravelling. The only thing she could think about was his cock filling her, burning up every single nerve she had as needy pleasure coiled in her belly. She wanted him to cum. She really did.

When he paused, she struggled to comprehend why. Her gaze found his. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his mouth slack to accommodate the deep breaths heaving his chest. He was barely holding still, strain thrumming through every inch of his large frame above her.

“Does. My pretty little thing want. Cum as deep in her tight pussy. As her pretty throat?”

She whined, pulled at his neck with both hands. “Y-yes.”

“Beg. For it.”

“P-please,” she whimpered as she tried to make him move, weakly rolled her hips towards him.

“Please what?”

“Please, s-sir.”

The noise he uttered in response to that settled somewhere at the primal base of her brain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear it again.

“Please, sir. Pound my needy hole like I deserve,” she mewled into his ear, savouring the way his breath hitched, that noise came again.

“Damnit, doll,” Crocodile grunted through clenched teeth as he picked up a pace that became quickly rougher, slightly erratic. He locked his hold on her shoulder, broad fingers digging around her thin muscles and narrow bones, keeping her put as he pounded into her soaking, cramping cunt. “Gonna fuck you so full, you'll be leaking my cum well into tomorrow.”

“Please, please, pleaaasse,” she whined and clenched around him as he fucked her into the sinfully soft matrass with long, deep strokes that shoved his cock shamelessly up against her cervix to fit it all in. She wanted, needed, to cum around it, desperate for release. “Fuck me full of cum, sir. Stuff my tight cunny like you did my slutty mouth.”

“I -ngh- will, honey. I am,” he ground out, barely intelligible as his pace lost all semblance of rhythm and he bucked against her in the grip of his orgasm’s first throes.

“Oh! Yes, yes,” she moaned as he shoved his throbbing cock as far as she could take it, cumming against the deepest corner of her cunt as she shuddered around his cock with unfulfilled need. He stayed buried inside her as he came down, breath erratic before steadying, slowing. She whimpered in need, clenching around his softening cock. She hadn’t been able to cum around it like she wanted. It was too thick to cramp enough for a proper orgasm. She knew that, but had thought maybe this time…

He knew it, too. Remembered it.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her parted lips. “Unable to cum around a cock like a big girl.”

She made a small noise that he swallowed in a kiss.

They stayed that way until her breathing steadied as well. Then he sat up and gathered her into his lap. She held onto him, her cheek against his collarbone. Not quite ready yet to let go.

“You look parched, doll,” Crocodile said as he brushed a bang from her eyes.

Shivs peered up at him. “I would not say ‘no’ to a sweet white.”

A noise escaped him that could have been a fond one as he lifted her off his lap and rose. The sound of his retreating footsteps filled the quiet. He’d gone to his study, judging by the distance. Shivs got up as well and shimmied the negligee down. Despite everything, she did not feel like taking it off. It felt nice against her flushed skin.

She sauntered to the curved window wall and found the view precisely as she remembered it. A sea of nightlights twinkled across the city below, mirroring the deep blue, star-speckled sky above. The moon hung low, waning from view. It wasn’t long before he returned. She heard him uncork a bottle behind her and fill two glasses. The snap and swoosh of his lighter. The familiar scent of his cigar preceding him as he came to stand beside her, still naked.

He held a glass out to her, a cigarillo clamped against its curve. The wine was a deep bronze instead of the pale yellow usual to white wines. She accepted the glass and smoke, gaze lingering on the narrow slot through its delicate stem. It allowed him to hold them with his hook without slipping. She glanced sideways and up at him. A fond smile twitched her lips when she noticed his hair was neater than before. He’d evidently taken a comb to it for a hot second.

Shivs put the cigarillo in her mouth and turned to find his lighter lying on the nightstand beside the wine bottle, and a corkscrew with its split cork still attached. She glanced at the label as she lit the cigarillo. It read ‘1811’ in large, proud capitals, and a name in a curving script she couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. She would not be able to afford it, anyway.

Taking a sip, she returned to his side. The wine was sweet, indeed. With hints of lime, honey, saffron. She made herself comfortable against him, her bum resting on his thigh. “It’s a nice view,” she said as she blew out a thin pall of smoke.

He glanced down at her and their gazes crossed as he idly stroked her hip. “It is.”

Shivs leaned into his touch, sipping the wine. It really was, very good.

“Clever scheme you’ve gotten up to, in order to save the loser’s sorry hide,” Crocodile remarked as he blew a smoke ring against the narrow cloud she’d just produced. “But it has a flaw.”

Shivs let her weight shift from his thigh to his loin, only the soft silk between them. “You sure?”

A self-satisfied smile twitched behind his cigar as he gave her hip a squeeze. “None of this will work on Dracule.”

Only because I don’t have a penis, she thought, but no matter. They may have both grown older, but Croki was still fundamentally the same man she’d left years ago. And that would work for her, she was sure of it. Inevitably, Mihawk would pick on Bugs. She would take it upon herself to get irritatingly upset about it. Mihawk would no doubt insult her next, and Sir Self-Satisified here would take it personally by-proxy and shut him up. It’d be a win.

“I’ll think of something,” Shivs said as she blew a thin pall through his smoke ring, dispersing it.

He glanced at her, amused. “He’s partial to good wine, at least.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

She nipped her own wine, idly rubbing her thighs together. Pleasure skulked around the base of her spine, denied but not forgotten. She made a little noise against her glass when she felt his hand move up her thigh, his thumb brush under the edge of the negligee.

“Still needy?” he said as he bunched up the fine silk, rubbing his middle and ring finger against her clit in slow circles. It sent lazy sparks of pleasure straight to her brain. Drawing a shuddering whimper from her as he dipped his middle finger between her folds.

“Cum for me, honey,” Crocodile rumbled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger along the inner rim of her vagina, then teased the sensitive spot further down. Shivs gasped through her moan as the briefest shudder of an orgasm stole over her like a thief in the night. It was not enough, not nearly enough.

“N-need more,” she said as she put the glass down with a wobble. Reached for his large hand when he stopped, withdrew, tugging it back. Bunching two of his fingers together, of a mind to stick them into herself if he didn't.

“Come to our board meeting tomorrow. You’ll come sit with me and I’ll take good care of your needy little hole.” He shook her fussy touch and caught her pubes, massaging his palm firmly against her soft cunt, pressing her bum against his cock. “You can ride my palm like you used to, and I’ll make you cum on my fingers till your tight pussy is sore from cramping around them.”

Shivs wasn’t particularly keen on doing any of this semi-publically, least of all anywhere Bugs would be. Though she feared she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this, as easily as she’d talked herself into it.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll leave the pathetic clown alone,” Crocodile promised as he stroked her flat belly with the rounding of his hook. “Can’t beat the loser if my hand is occupied with something sweeter, hm?”

Shit. She had to tell Bugs. Forewarned, forearmed, and all that. She turned in his hold, his hand moving to her butt instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, but he caught her wrist when she took a step back.

“Ah, ah,” he admonished as he stopped her, pulled her with him, back into bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“I, what? Why?”

Suddenly, she wanted to leave as he gathered her against him, nestling her into his lap and chest, spooning his large body around her like a cage. She wanted to leave, wanted to go to Buggy and cry when he guided his cock back inside her still moist pussy with an incriminating noise and a satisfied rumble. She’d meant to turn this trick and tell Buggy about it. Tell him her plan to manipulate the ex-warlord to leave him alone, to leave them alone. Tell him it had worked.

Shivs pushed herself on her elbow but Crocodile pulled her back down to him.

“Stay,” he said as he hooked the fluffy underblanket and silk cover sheets about them, his arm around her waist, hand on her hip.

“Why.” She had to tell Buggy, but now she couldn’t. She’d left after they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t know. He’d wake up alone.

Crocodile stroked the midline of her belly with the tip of his hook, rippling the cream-coloured silk as it moved up her chest, counting to the fifth rib. The one behind which her heart sat.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

A quiet sob escaped her.

"Ssh, sleep, honey," Crocodile whispered into her hair, fingertips stroking her hip. “I’ll take good care of you tomorrow.”

Honourary mention tags: @smut-goblin , @ruledbyproblematique , @gingernut1314 , @swirlsofblackandwhite

(N/A): To anyone reading & making it to the end. Writing this has consumed me the past days. I want to know what you think! What did you like? What made you laugh? Was there something specific you noticed? Something you now wonder about? I am 100% open to lengthy comments and blow by blows, ngl. I am obsessed with this.

If you want for more, I jotted down some of my own thoughts regarding this debacle. I may also be plotting another stint. Because Impel Down, do you understand me??

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crackedpumpkin · 7 months

Text

|| ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡꜱ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱɪx ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“The gods have decided to rain their wrath down upon my mortal being. I am officially facing the consequences of being too good for this world.”

“Just get a better immune system, silly,” Sakura snorts from your doorway, eyeing the way your limp body is sprawled out on the beige sheets, now slightly damp with the sweaty outline of your body.

A halfhearted groan barely leaves your lips, your face mostly buried in your pillow whilst trying to escape the incessant pounding relentlessly chasing the little remains of sanity in your head.

It’s torture.

“Don’t you have school?” You can see the blurry figure of your roommate shrugging in your peripheral, checking her watch and realising that it is indeed time to leave or she’d be late.

“Yeah,” She chirps, “Make sure you stay in bed. I’ve already called this ‘Tadashi’ dude and told him you can’t make it today. He said he’d come over in a bit to drop off a few things.”

You hum appreciatively, closing your eyes as your vision starts to swim. Was your ceiling always this yellow? You could’ve sworn it was like, a green or something. God, you need medicine so badly.

“You already took your first dose this morning when you woke up, so make sure you don’t take another till lunch,” She calls out from the kitchen, almost as if she read your mind. Her head peeks past the slightly ajar bedroom door, her shoulder length hair curled to perfection and nearly getting caught in the door hinges.

“I’ll head off first, call me if you need anything else. I’ll grab some dinner on the way back, porridge sound good?”

It takes all the strength in your body to hold up your hand to send her a limp thumbs up. She chuckles, entering the room and grabbing your ankles, helping to move your body to lay in a more comfortable position.

You sense her leave afterwards, closing the front door and leaving your own bedroom door open halfway. It takes all of two minutes for you to fall asleep again, the air conditioning set at a mildly cold temperature while you lay under the blankets.

You stir at the feeling of the warm cloth from this morning now taken away from your forehead, replaced by something cold and wet. You flinch away, hands reaching up to get it off your face as some water trickles down the sides of your face.

“Crap.”

Is that Hiro you heard…? Can’t be, the jerk’s supposed to be back at the cafe. This is probably a dream, maybe even a nightmare.

Your eyelids slowly open, and wearily blinking a couple times at the ceiling. Water drips down your forehead and into your eyes. You can barely register the blue blob in your vision, blinking rapidly and using the back of your hand to rub your eyes.

“She’s up!”

Even his voice sounds as if he’s underwater, the syllables ringing through the air like a ripple in a pond. Who on earth is this guy, and why is he in your room?

Move. You will your arm to grab his hair, and grab his hair you did. “Get outta my apartment,” You mumble while he lets out an ear-piercing shriek that has you wincing. He twists and turns, trying to pull away from your grip.

“Let go! Tadashi!!” You hear him cry out, hands scrabbling to pull yours away from his hair. Your fingers thread through his curly locks, securing your hold on him with whatever strength you have left in you. That’ll teach him to break into your apartment to steal your stuff.

“What the-” Another large, taller blob comes through the door. You narrow your eyes, squinting as the shape of a baseball cap comes into view. A familiar baseball cap.

“ ‘Dashi?” You murmur, your grip all but forgotten. Frowning, you rub your eyes once again and squint as your vision finally clears up. Tadashi’s face is filled with worry and a hint of amusement from the slight tug upward of his lips when he looks at the floor. You follow his gaze to see the supposed intruder groaning with his hands in his hair.

“Should’ve just stayed unconscious,” Hiro mutters grouchily, massaging his scalp with utmost care after the torture you had just put it through. He glares at you, gesturing to the wet cloth that you now notice next to you on the bed. “Took care of you and what do I get in return?”

“Hiro, I only asked you to wring the towel so it’s not soaking wet, and you only just got here!” Tadashi’s exasperated chiding has Hiro’s lips pursed into a slight pout, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes.

“Wait, how’d you even… where’d you… the cafe?” You stammer, grabbing the very soggy cloth that had soaked through the pillowcase cover and handing it back to Tadashi.

“Yup!” Tadashi nods, watching Hiro leave the room. “Your roommate called Cass and told her about you being sick. So in true Cass fashion, she sent us over here to help nurse you.”

“Correction: She sent you. I, on the other hand, was dragged along.” Hiro calls out from the living room. You sigh, feeling only a tinge of guilt. “Grow up, you’re not balding just yet so get over it.” You retort weakly.

The silence that follows afterwards is sufficient as a reply in itself. Tadashi shakes his head with a chuckle, kneeling down and pressing his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

“Yeap. You got a pretty bad fever. Stay in bed, I’ll make you some food.” He promises before getting up and leaving the room. He closes the door behind him, leaving it only slightly ajar. You hear hushed whispers and strain your neck slightly, but don’t manage to catch whatever they’re saying. Curiosity swells and you find yourself on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and making your way to the door.

The whispers cease, and momentary silence follows. You press your ear to the door, hoping to catch whatever they’re saying. Instead, you hear a small sigh before the door is flung open and you yelp, losing your balance. Your reflexes kick in once again, scrambling to hold whatever is near to protect you from the fall.

Your hands close around a soft material, metal tips on the end of two strings hitting the back of your hand with a sting. You tumble to the floor, landing on a warm, yet solid surface which also yelps in pain when you crash.

“Ow…” you groan, cheeks pressed against whatever you had grabbed before falling.

“Are you guys okay? Did anyone get hurt?” You lift your head up to see Tadashi freeze in the doorway, a pink apron tied around his waist before he purses his lips with an impressed nod, heading back into the kitchen.

“Wha-?”

“Get off me!” You’re roughly shoved to the side as Hiro gets up from the ground, dusting himself off with a frown. “First my hair, now this?” He sighs.

Your hand stings from the sudden shove, having moved to catch yourself from tumbling once more as your head swims. Your breath hitches, squeezing your eyes shut as the room starts to swim.

“If I knew that I was gonna get this injured today, I’d have brought a full-body suit or something… maybe even Baymax.” Hiro muses, but his eyes widen upon noticing your curled up position on the floor. “You okay?” He asks, placing his hand on your shoulder and shaking you.

You groan in pain at the movement, trying to press your sweaty forehead against the relief that the cold, hard floor provides. You can barely hear the worry in his voice as a loud ringing in your ears only increases in volume, until everything falls silent.

Sweet relief is all you feel, vaguely sensing yourself being lifted off the floor and placed down again, with a cold compress against your forehead. This isn’t too bad, you muse in your head.

But it’d be much better without this confounded headache.

Which is exactly what you wake up to moments later. Hiro is on the floor of your room with his knees tucked to his chest, playing a rhythm game on his phone with vested interest. You try to mask a cough with a huff, but you spot his shoulders tense, now aware that you’re up.

He turns around, sporting a guilty smile and not quite meeting your bleary eyes. You raise a brow, intrigued by this sudden behaviour of his. “How’re you feeling?”

There’s no trace of malice or meanness in his voice, just genuine, carefully worded concern for your wellbeing. It almost makes you smile. Almost.

“I’ve been better,” You reply back sarcastically, drawing a sharp chuckle out of him. You move to sit upright on the bed, holding back another groan at how much your joints ache from the simple movement. They creak and moan in protest, as if they’re rusty hinges on a broken door.

“Here.” He hands you a cushion, and you settle it under your arms to prop them up.

“Thanks.” You’re not entirely sure what to make of his sudden niceness, not after the previous night when he had essentially insulted your entire ambition and dream. Something’s up.

“So, look.” You glance at him, observing the way his fingers fiddle with the strings of his hoodie as his eyes remain fixed on them. “I’m sorry about how I pushed you earlier. I…forgot you were sick.”

“Did Tadashi scold you?” You ask curiously, watching his hesitant nod with a little smile. “Well, if that’s how you treat me when I’m sick, I’d hate to see how you treat your friends.” You joke, watching him wince with a small tinge of satisfaction.

However, you raise your brows when he doesn’t respond, sensing that you’ve touched on a sensitive topic. So, you change the subject. “So, you said Tadashi dragged you here. You could go home, y’know.” You chuckle.

“I guess so.” He replies, finally tearing his gaze away from his fingers to look at you with a halfhearted smile.

“Why didn’t you?”

A moment of silence passes as you stare at him, trying to figure him out. His almond eyes are filled with pure guilt and worry. “I don’t know,” he admits, running a hand through his hair.

You merely hum in response, not entirely sure what to say to break the silence. Staring down at the calloused skin of your fingers, you pick away at the skin.

“I uh, accidentally saw some of your unfinished articles earlier when you were asleep.” Hiro admits. You look back up at him with a glare, your defensive side softening when you see his tense shoulders.

Right. Breathe. No hostility. Be civil.

“And what did you think? How’s my ‘journalism’?” You ask him sarcastically, doing air quotes around the last word.

So much for being civil.

You did feel bad for the guilt that flashes across his face for a moment. “It honestly wasn’t bad.” He says slowly. “I liked them, especially the one you wrote about Tadashi.”

You really shouldn’t feel this happy about his acknowledgement of your work. You shouldn’t take this compliment from someone who had just insulted it last night.

And yet, you can’t stop the huge smile from making its way across your lips.

He reciprocates the smile with a soft one of his own, sitting down in your desk chair. “Nope. You. Off.” You instruct, gesturing for him to get off your chair.

“Fine,” He grumbles, but this time it’s a playful, lighthearted one. He sits down on the end of your bed instead, kicking his feet up and sitting cross-legged.

The atmosphere is much lighter, and it’s easier to breathe compared to earlier.

A knock comes at the door. “Food’s here,” Tadashi calls out from behind. Hiro gets off the bed to open the door, letting his brother come inside with a small tray with a bowl of porridge and a glass of water on top, along with some pickled radishes and a spoon. He sets it down on the bedside table, placing his hand on your forehead once more to check your temperature.

He whistles. “Looks like you’re doing much better now. Your head was burning like crazy when we first got here. And you, I brought you here to help, not injure her further. Got it?” He directs the last part to Hiro who nods obediently.

Satisfied, Tadashi takes his leave after checking the temperature of the room and closing the door, leaving it only slightly ajar. Hiro looks around the room to see another smaller stool in the corner, grabbing it and moving it to sit right next to you.

“What, am I getting special treatment now?” You say playfully as he scoops out some porridge and blows on it gently.

“Don’t delude yourself. I’m just doing it so ‘Dashi won’t scold me again.” His eyes have a glint of amusement in them, but the concern is genuine. You would almost mistake it as caring for a friend.

That is, if you guys are even friends.

“Thanks,” You choose to say anyway, because why look a gift horse in the mouth?

He continues to feed you, obliging even your small requests like placing a pickle in the spoon before scooping the porridge because it tastes better that way. (“It’s a science fact,” you defend upon his odd look.)

Almost half the bowl is gone and you’re getting full. The small pickle plate is empty, and the glass of water has only a drop left.

“I’m sorry.”

You choke on the last spoonful he feeds you, the remaining burn of the hot porridge forcing its way down your throat as you cough harshly. Hitting your fist against your chest helps it go down faster, but the burn in your throat remains.

“What?” You croak out, looking at him with pure confusion and watery eyes.

“I’m sorry I called your journalism dumb. It’s not. Well, not as dumb as I thought.” Hiro realises that his apology isn’t worded carefully enough from the way your understanding gaze morphs into a glare. “I mean, journalism isn’t dumb…?” He tries again.

You snort. “Better.”

You level your gaze with him, unable to stop your lips from forming a small smile. “And you’re decently smart for a guy who can’t tell the difference between a flat white and a latte.”

The both of you dissolve into laughter, before you begin to share with him the new articles you’re working on, while he gives you thorough feedback as a reader. It’s the first time you’re having such an avid discussion with him without insults being hurled by either of you, and it’s actually…pleasant.

In fact, the both of you are so caught up in talking that you fail to notice Tadashi had opened the door, watching the both of you with a relieved smile. From his point of view, it definitely looks like the both of you have made up.

One might even say that you’re friends now.

— — — — —

A few hours before…

“Hiro!” Tadashi calls out urgently, his younger brother popping his head out from behind the doorway of their shared room while he changes his pants.

“What?”

“Get ready buddy, we’re heading out. Our little barista’s sick today so Cass is sending us over.” Tadashi informs him coolly.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not dragging me off when I have a project to get through.” Hiro denies vehemently.

— — — — —

“I can’t believe you dragged me here when I have a project to go through.” Hiro pulls his arm away from Tadashi’s strong grip with a glare.

“The wellbeing of your friend is more important than your project.” His brother chides him gently, taking off his shoes and entering the hallway of the apartment after having shut the door behind him.

Hiro lingers at the doorway. He could just leave right now, and take the public transport back to the cafe. He could do that, definitely.

So why does he feel obliged to help?

He recalls the previous night’s fight between the both of you, shoulders slumping in defeat before taking off his shoes and following his brother into the bathroom.

“Where did she say the towels were… Aha!” Tadashi finds a light blue towel and hands it to Hiro. “Rinse this and wring it dry.” He instructs before heading back out to the living room, probably to the kitchen.

He does as Tadashi says, but the towel is still dripping wet even after all the times he’s squeezed it as tightly as he can. “Stupid towel.”

“Where do I put the towel?” He gives up quickly, heading outside and hoping his brother doesn’t see the wet mass in his hands.

“Her room’s the one with the butterfly stickers. Go put it on her forehead, I bet she’s burning up right now.” Tadashi calls out from the kitchen. He hears the clatter of a few pots and pans, choosing not to question it.

Hiro knocks on the door, waiting for a response. He doesn’t get any. Opening the door, he’s greeted with a stuffy room with little to no light. He squints, barely able to make out your silhouette laying asleep in your bed.

He moves to adjust the fan and crack open the windows a smidge to clear the room of the old air, relieved when he spots the crease between your brows relax once the room becomes more well-ventilated.

It’s time.

He holds the still very much soggy towel above your head, swallowing a nervous gulp.

She won’t wake up from this…right?

He takes a deep breath, the wet towel plopping down on your forehead with a loud squelch. He freezes when he sees you frown in your sleep, shifting uncomfortable as the water runs down the sides of your head.

Don’twakeupdon’twakeupdon’twakeup-

Your eyes slowly open.

“Crap.”

taglist:

@urfavarab

@dee-zbignuts

@frogindisguise

@mangodamochiii

@futureweasleywife

@whoisgami

@millerworld

@aikoluvssyouu

@leafyturtle

#bh6 #hiro x reader #hiro hamada x reader #series #baymax #wasabi #gogo #honey lemon #tadashi hamada #fred #hiro hamada #big hero 6 #bh6 x reader #hiro hamada x you #hiro hamada x y/n #hiro hamada x female reader #x reader

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bcjthoughts · 3 months

Text

Adding to my sanders sides office au!

Roman has his own desk but mostly just chills in Logan's office

He also accompanies Logan to all the big important meetings and networking events

Virgil still finds ways to dress emo in the office

Patton's mum's own a cute bakery so sometimes when they host office events they can book that venue for free

Virgil hates working at the office because of corporate culture and constantly wants to fight the man

Logan always makes sure all his employees leave the minute the clock hits five. He refuses to contribute to an unhealthy work life balance.

Logan inherited the company from his dad

Patton has two young kids who he sometimes brings to work if he can't find a baby sitter

No one minds at all, they all try their best to keep them happy and entertained which is fairly easy. A few Disney songs, colouring books and vending machine snacks do the trick

The older one (5) follows Logan around like a baby duck, always trying to see what he's doing and nodding very seriously when Logan explains. Their also very intent on convincing him he should give them a sip of his coffee

Patton's mortified by his kid disrupting Logan's work and apologises profusely but Logan's very endeared by his tiny apprentice

"Do you like frogs Mr Jam" (Logan's last name is crofter and being five and unable to rember the name they call him mr jam cause crofters is jam) "I do like frogs their very interesting" "me to! I wish I were a frog cause they get to live in ponds with lily pads and dragon flies. And if I were a frog I wouldn't let any princesses kiss me" they shake their head with absolute conviction. "Cause then I couldn't be a frog anymore and that'd be very silly" "very silly indeed" Logan agrees unable to hide the smile growing on his face

There's a tiny "desk" (a small coffee table with a pencil case full of glitter pens and a note book) beside Logan's desk for them to sit at

The younger kid has an inexplicable affinity for Remy. Remy does not like kids but this three year old has inhuman amounts of sass and doesn't understand the concept of privacy yet so is great at sharing gossip. They also have a great no fucks to give attitude so Remy genuinely enjoys talking to this kid

"My friend said fairys were stupid so I pushed her and put on another four sets of fairy wings" "yasss queen,that bitch deserved it"

Roman thinks patton's kids are the most adorable things to ever walk the earth but he has zero clue how to interact with children

Sometimes when he stressed Logan smokes but Patton absolutely refuses to kiss him when he does

Logan and Patton only go on dates outta town because janus is just waiting to catch them on a romantic outing

Roman has passed out at work exactly nine times for various reasons (exhaustion, hunger, sickness, shock)

Logan's actshally kinda clumsy and bad with time management hence him needing Roman so bad. But he's really good at his job

Some of the investors hate Logan for being a nepo baby despite him being good at his job. They formally extend the hatred to Roman as well

Both are very protective of the others reputation. Logan once broke an investor's nose after he called Roman a useless boy toy

#logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #logicality #platonic logince #parental Patton #human au

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dinomintz · 30 days

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I was the only person who liked the pond dino update bc it only solidified my single father dino sour headcanon

more details- but uh,, I imagine that Dino Sour treated his jellysaur as his child a bit? It had the same vibes as a person who considered their dog as their baby, although I also saw Dino Sour treating his jellysaur as his closets confidant when he was traveling alone in Dragon's Valley. His jellysaur feels the exact same way, funnily enough, considering Dino Sour it's baby.

Bro instantly clings to Pond Dino partially because he understands what it's like to be a fish outta water- both pre-Dragon's Valley and also in Dragon's Valley, but he's chill with it. (side headcanon: he really only interacts with the dinosaurs, other cookies like peperoncino or fire spirit are cookies he rarely runs into but very easily annoys; the exception is the guild squad, but that's low-key trauma bonding)

Should note that he does get along with his sister, but that's the only cookie prior to the guild who actually likes him. Also headcanon that Sour Belt more-so raised Dino, so the was a mix of older sister and mother figure to him. She's also aware of jellysaurs (it's her little bros' fixation- of course she knows)- but ever since he went to Dragon's Valley and met the guild, they haven't had a chance to meet up in a while. I genuinely think Dino Sour coming home with Pond Dino or talking about the dragons would confuse her LMAO

#dino sour cookie #pond dino cookie #sour belt cookie #lotus dragon cookie #that is lotus. i just can't be fucked to draw them better #cookie run #fan art #my art #doodles #dino sour was my first big fave #so i have a whole list of headcanons for him #practically my own oc

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prying-pandora666 · 2 months

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So I suddenly had this idea about Azula in the Spirit Temple…

This is only a first pass, but if it works out, maybe I’ll record it as Azula.

Azula’s “The Spirit Came to the Temple”

Based on “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”

Well, a Spirit conjured a Temple, it was looking for a soul to eat It was in a bind, 'cause it was time to dine, and Dragons were its favorite treat When it came across this princess soaking wet but her flames blue-hot So the Spirit jumped up, disguised as a monk, said, "Girl, let me tell you what

You probably didn't even know it, but I rescue lost souls too And if you care to take a dare, I'll make a deal with you Now you’ve got impressive willpower, but give the Spirit World its due I'll bet a night outta the cold against your soul, redemption’s too good for you" The girl said, "My name's Azula and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, ‘Cause I'm the best there's ever been!”

Princess don’t let your will waver, if you’re to beat this trial 'Cause hell's challenged you to Pai Sho and the Spirit deals the tiles And if you win and last the night, your legend will be told But if you lose the Spirit eats your soul!

The Spirit conjured up its spell, “I’ll start” it smugly said Sent visions from its finger tips as it got into her head And it pulled harshly on her heartstrings, and it made an evil hiss Then Azula’s inner demons joined in, and it sounded something like this

But when the Spirit finished, Azula said, "You know, you're pretty good old monk, But you best get in your life raft there, cuz I’m so sharp your ship is sunk!"

Fire on the mountain, run, boys, run The Spirit’s in the house of the rising sun Brother’s by the duck pond, feeding them dough Mother, do you fear me? No, child, no

Well, that old Spirit bowed its head because it knew that it’d been beat And it vanished with the temple, left only ground at Azula’s feet Azula said, "Spirit, come on back if you ever want to try again I’ve told you once, you son of a nun, I'm the best there's ever been!"

She spat fire on that mountain, run, boys, run Azula from the house of the rising sun Brother’s in the throne room, calling for you Mother, do you love me? Yes, I do!

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #azula #azula in the spirit temple #the devil went down to georgia #Song parody

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slvttyplum · 5 months

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𖡎 Reflection | Satoru Gojo

needed this up outta my notes, this is a month old.

What does it mean to be the strongest? or inherit something to be the strongest?

Does that still make you strong? For as long as you could remember, you and satoru have been the best of friends… even did things friends shouldn’t be doing every once in a while.

As your friendship is built with a strong foundation of trust and love, there’s some underlying issues.

One that causes the two of you to bump heads, a lot.

“Get the fuck up! Stop acting like you’re weak!” You’re trembling on the floor trying to catch your breath and get up, but there’s no wind flowing in your nose, or chest.

“I said get the fuck up!” Satoru’s voice echoed through the wind, in and out your ears as you trembled on your knees.

“Let’s go sword for sword.” You say slowly getting up, still trying to catch your breath. Admittedly, you weren’t good with hand to hand combat let alone using domains.

He scrunches his face up, “Huh?!”

You roll your eyes slowly walking over to where you sword hangs, his eyes widen when you grab it and get into position.

“I said grab your sword dammit!” It was true Satoru wasn’t good at sword fighting either, but you went head to head, every single time.

He sighs getting his sword, getting in position, his legs are apart and his feet are firmly planted on the grown.

With no hesitation you run up to him, the sound of grunts, curses, and the swords clinking filled the air. The birds chirping and flying away with fear.

You took a slice in the air, the sharp part slicing down on his arm.

“Fuck!” Satoru yells out, blood dripping out his arm bit by bit. You’re still in position waiting but he drops his sword clinging onto his arm.

What the fuck?

“Pick it back up.” You say, your voice booming carrying almost into a yell. Satoru looks from his arm back at you squinting his eyes, fine, this is how you want to play.

With no more thoughts he continues, your sword swinging towards his feet but he jumps and dodges.

You notice the change in his demeanor, the blood dripping down his arm, then onto the floor. He’s distracted, good.

You swing your sword again, it hit his, and you run at him with full speed hitting his other arm at a horizontal angle; then pulling it back going for his legs.

He couldn’t even dodge before it hit him, he immediately crashes onto the floor wincing in pain.

He doesn’t say anything, but the moaning and crying is evident. You roll your eyes dropping your sword, the blood slowly leaking out of all three areas

“Get the fuck up…“ You say, your patient running thin. There’s nothing but silence that carries between the two of you.

“I said get the fuck up Satoru!” Your voice laced with anger. He could terrorize you, he could pick on you, call you a cunt, bastard, spoiled, get him way all the time.

But when it was your turn to show off your skills, do the same to him, demean him, make him feel worthless, he’s weak.

You’re both one in the same after all.

You ball your fist turning around grabbing your sword, you point it at him not caring if you scrape him or poke his eye out.

“Get up, or I kill you.” Your teeth gritting together as the blood continues to pour out, of course you knew he couldn’t go on.

Hell, he wasn’t even good at this, so why do this? You scoff tossing the sword leaning eye level to eye level with him.

“The next time I tell you to get up, you fucking do it.” No words follow after that, just your footsteps leaving.

You didn’t feel bad, and you doubt he felt bad for earlier as well.

You’re leeching off each other everyday, the reflection you see in the pond isn’t yours, it’s his.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu satoru #angst #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader

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juniperss · 24 days

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Paintings and Daydreams

A/N: ummm look at me coming out of writing retirement to write this little ficlet for my new Lackadaisy OC, Penelope that @libras-interactives wanted me to write....featuring Maeve. This is set in the same universe as Under the Devil's Moon but these two OCs aren't in the fic.

Characters: Penny (OC), Maeve (OC) Content warnings for hints of neglectful childhood, childhood poverty, and trauma surrounding food and money insecurity. Word count: 1,236 Translations: A Chara: Means 'friend', A stór: "my treasure"

Penelope leaned back on her stool, forcing her to gaze at the painting in a different perspective while at the same time straightening the length of her spine. The tension she had been holding in her shoulders dropping away and each vertebrae of her spine releasing with a satisfying crack. It had gotten dark outside again while she'd been working but she couldn't remember how long ago that was. Only that it had happened twice which meant that she'd been in her apartment for at least two days now with the painting in front of her with minimal breaks. Not that she minded much save for the familiar ache in her fingers now causing her to flex them one by one.

The painting was coming together well; a picnic scene filled with greens of trees and grassy knolls, the blues of the spring sky and a glistening pond, and the blushes and purples of new flowers. She hadn't been hired for this one that much was clear by two simple facts. The first being that it was done completely in watercolor, not a style that brought in many customers, and two being that it wasn't a portrait. Most people who sought Penelope Thompson out were interested in pictures of themselves or their loved ones to hang in their homes.

This painting was for herself, at least as far as she was concerned, and would only be seen by a handful of people unless Mitzi convinced her otherwise. It was born from another storm of anxiety that seized her chest in a grip so strong she felt as though her ribs were going to crack.

Her anxiety got worse when the weather changed drastically; memories of a childhood were survival depended solely on the kindness of nature, of legs pulled tight to her chest trying to keep heat trapped as best she could during a winter snowfall, memories of cool fingertips pressing themselves to her burning forehead under the suffocating weight of the summer sun.

She had lain in bed for hours trying to breathe her way to peace before throwing the covers from herself and blindly making her to way to a blank canvas. Telling herself over and over that the rabbit trapped in her chest was being silly, that wasn't the same little girl living in the drafty shed of a house with no meals guaranteed. No, she was an artist now, doing well enough that she could paint as she pleased and teach when she needed.

Though that didn't stop her from hoarding non-perishable good or from keeping money stashed away for a rainy day.

Rap, rap, rap!

Knuckles against the door startled Penelope out of her thoughts and sent her jumping, long legs kicking out directly in front of her and her arms swinging in wild circles and in the process connecting with the glass bottles holding her brushes and the cup of grey paint water.

"Penny! I know you're in there, I can see your shadow," a voice called through wood breaking off momentarily before adding, "and you wouldn't be anywhere else." Penelope knew it was Maeve. She'd know it was her even if her friend hadn't spoken. Mae was one of the small number of people who knew where she lived and one of the smaller number of people who would bother coming to get her in the first place.

Penelope's long legs carried her to the front door and opened it to reveal the smiling and ever friendly face of Maeve O'Connor. Penny was taller than most people, all legs and arms, but the size difference between herself and Maeve was comically apparent.

“There ya are. Comin’ outta the dark like a ghost.”

Mae’s accent was more noticeable after a long day of working at the bakery and Penny wanted to wrap herself up in her friend’s voice like a warm blanket. Maeve had a way of pulling the darkness away, illuminating everything that might seem so scary and too dour with the simple action of just being. It had taken Penelope months of interactions before she’d gain the courage to ask Maeve what she saw in her that made her stay when Mae was all the warmth, humor, and jovial spirit that anyone would need. And Mae had just laughed before answering: “Because my warmth is a fire I stoke constantly to stay burning without scorching others and yours is naturally bright and never violent, Pen. You don’t realize how comforting your presence is, how solid you are, do you?” The memory sat in her brain as though a spotlight was pointing directly to it. That’s when she had decided she’d always be as strong for Maeve as Maeve was for her.

“Earth to Penelope. Hey, you alright?”

Penelope blinked again and realizing that her friend must’ve been waiting for a response nodded absentmindedly. “Just a little tired, I’ve been painting.” Maeve snorted, tossing her head back slightly with a laugh. “You don’ say? I was wonderin’ why your blush was green.” With the grace of a ballerina and the familiar ease of someone who knew the layout of the home, Maeve weaved her way around Penny’s tall and wiry frame and into the apartment.

“Gree-” Penelope had just begun to form a question when Mae returned to her with a damp rag, handing it over before perching on the stool that had been Pen’s seat just a few moments ago.

“You’ve got paint on your cheek, A Chara. Well, you’ve got paint just about everywhere but that’s not important. Now hurry up and clean up! We’ve got to meet Mitzi at Lackadaisy!”

Maeve was right: there was paint everywhere and it took a good five minutes for Penelope to scrub her face, hands, and arms clean.

“The paintin’ is lovely, by the way. Especially this weird lil fella with the red eyes, he’s rather whimsical. Someone you know?” Penelope glanced up from fastening the buckles on her heels to admire the work that Maeve had just complimented. There were a few cats in the painting partaking in a variety of spring time activities, but the figure Mae pointed out was tucked off to the side, leaning up against a large oak tree watching the others. He was a strange individual by most standards and if it hadn’t been for Penelope’s careful work, Maeve doubted that she would have enjoyed looking at him for much time. But Penny had drawn him beautifully, giving his awkward form a whimsical and oddly endearing quality.

“No….no, he’s no one I’ve ever met…I..I dreamt of him actually.”

A hum escaped Maeve’s lips and she raised an eyebrow giving her expression a quizzical look. “A dream man, hmm?”

Penny, ignoring her friend, moved to stand next to her friend, holding out her arms and spinning, awaiting inspection and appraisal. “Beautiful, A stór. Now, let’s go!” Mae was always saying how beautiful Penelope was, even with the paint speckles, and over time she had begun to believe her friend. In spite of her big ears, triangular face, gangly body and overall awkward demeanor, Penny was content with the odd beauty that she possessed.

After all, an artist could find beauty in all things. She pulled the door closed behind her, casting one more look at the painting, before locking her apartment and linking her arm through Maeve’s. They were off to see Mitzi.

#oc: penny #lackadaisy oc #🏷️ my ocs #lackadaisy #my writing #🏷️ my writings #oc: maeve o'connor #oc: penny thompson #oc: Maeve O’Connor

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queenofthecarrousel · 19 days

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Basil walked through the streets of heaven, his footsteps heavy, heartbroken and in tears. He soon arrived at a beautiful park and saw a little pond. So he sat near the pond and began to sing.

🎶Guess mine is not the first heart broken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you🎶

Basil looked up at the stars as he continued.

🎶I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you🎶

Basil got up from his spot and started dancing as he sang, clutching his chest as he did this.

🎶But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you🎶

He looked up at the stars again in tears.

🎶Hopelessly devoted to you

Hopelessly devoted to you🎶

He started walking around the park, still singing to himself.

🎶My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go

Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you

He leaned against the tree as his voice cracks while he sings.

🎶But now there's no way to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm outta my head

Hopelessly devoted to you🎶

He slid down the tree and was now on his knees as he quietly sings the last part.

🎶Hopelessly devoted to you

Hopelessly devoted to you🎶

He sat on the ground and pulled his knees to his chest, sobbing.

#basil: beautiful dancing knight #ic: basil speaks

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meikuree · 12 days

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book review: exordia by seth dickinson

alternative title: more people should read exordia please please please so I can talk to people about this book because it's eaten my brain.

note: not a spoiler-free review.

"where do I begin" is a common response to this book and I can see why. if you thought the locked tomb was adventurous for bending genres across books, Exordia does it six times or so in a single book.

perhaps I should start with how I got interested in reading this: i'd just come off the back of reading Serious Weighty books about memory, war atrocities, complicity and genocide, so I figured this would be a nice palate cleanser and 'transition' book. it's still about ethics and genocides after all, only dressed in the clothes of an author-described “fun” indulgent SFF book. a friend also sirened me with details and screenshots of a fraught central mother-daughter relationship (involving said mother [Khaje] pointing a gun to her daughter's head when she reunites with her) which I’ll admit expedited my interest.

long story short: I ended up so sucked into this that I was reluctant to put it down, and I inhaled it in 1.5 days. a 576-page book! that has happened a total of never times in my recent imaginatively parched life. this book reminded me in a way that reading can be limbically fun and unhinged, which sounds absurd and as if i should return to primary school but is true. i've been stuck in the academic reading mines for too long. I felt like my brain was being squeezed into a wormhole and emptied out in fragments on the other end, albeit in a nice and dysfunctionally salutary way reminiscent of crack.

the barebones plot is as such: anna sinjari (birth name jiyan) is a disenchanted 30-something office worker in new york city who's just been fired and is dealing with PTSD symptoms when she comes across an eight-headed "snake centaur hydra" eating turtles out of a pond. cue the rest of the plot. cue the second act, where a mysterious "spaceship" construct thing has landed near anna's hometown village Tawakul and she gets parachuted in to figure out what's happening and whether it'll accidentally spark off intergalactic conflicts. cue, also, a long ensemble structure that cycles between eight different characters' POVs and time and metaphysically-bendy happenings.

or, TLDR: it's a subversion (or rather anti-homage, cr. transversely) of first contact and geopolitical narratives with a relatively considered and considerate indictment of american imperialism, that also explores the practical ramifications of trolley problem-style situations*.

* fun fact: the beginnings of the trolley problem were developed in 1967 by british philosopher Philippa Foot. there may be something to be said for how the concept's been de-gendered since then, since I don't think it's really common knowledge these days that it was written about by a philosopher who was a woman

the not so much tone shift as tone derailing between acts 1 and 2 caught me off guard (the first act is very domestic and features cursed slice of life stuff, very much my thing!) but act 2 captured me once the bio-body horror shenanigans started happening, annihilation style, though... uh... with two of the characters (Erik and Clayton) who took up a lot of narrative time in early act 2, I was incredibly bored and going I'M JUST HERE FOR THE KURDISH FAILMOTHER [Khaje], GET OUTTA MY WAY GAYBOYS. but every character is important to the narrative and even if I think the 50 pages of davoud being plane-sexual should've been trimmed, they all add flavour!

arguably for instance the most beneficial purpose of davoud's interludes is to charm plane otakus into reading this book, which I can get behind. if I can get my plane otaku friends to be insane about this book along with me, even if it's for completely different reasons (I'm mooning over the complicated snake sisters and mother-daughter dynamics and kurdish side characters and worldbuilding) it'll have been worth it.

the big "scifi" element of this book centres around souls and narratives -- the snake alien Anna meets is called Ssrin (and also now my morally grey babygirl, more on that later) and also part of Exordia, the prevailing imperialistic system which 'pinions' (enslaves) other species' souls. this system's been explained better elsewhere, so I'll move on.

by the way, the marketing copy for this book by tor fails utterly to do it justice aside from Seth's own snake woman courts Kurdish faildaughter. just ignore it and go in blind like I did if you want. it's better that way.

what I liked

i've read the first Baru Cormorant book and bounced off it emotionally, even though cerebrally it should've been everything I'd have loved. bits where I would've exulted in war by inflation along with Baru, for instance, felt like I was simply revising my macroeconomics and monetary policy textbooks, and not in a positive way. well, I enjoyed this book a lot, which surprised me! there were many elements that were YMMV and which are usually incredibly inadvisable to pair together, but seth pulls it off. somehow. it's intentionally maximalist and deranged and A LOT but seth was clearly leaning into their id and if it works for you, it will work well.

this book directly references and subverts the whole anthropocentric "humans are destined saviours of the universe" scifi pillar shtick in the first act:

“Nooo,” Anna protests. “That’s it?” “That’s it.” “We’re not unusually stubborn? We’re not particularly diverse? Experimental? Curious? Willing to take risks? Jacks of all trades but masters of none?” “No,” Ssrin says, crossing two of her necks in a big X of negation. “You are jacks of running and masters of being inbred.” [...] “Good. You’re learning. The story of man is a story of mediocrity. But so are most stories, I think. Most things are average, or median; if they were not, nothing would make sense.” Ssrin begins to unwrap herself. “Anna, I came to Earth tracking a very old story, a story that goes back to the dawn of time. Your species is not special. It is not destined. But it is very, very inbred … and that makes it transparent to a certain kind of analysis. Your souls all bear the same tint. They are touched by the same story. It rings in your myths, deep down, lower than you know. [...]"

the story is often irreverent and driven by black comedy, but it does have real tragedy at its core (the Anfal genocide). the black humour isn't edgy, it's very resonant with the way communities who have suffered genocide or repression will use humour as a coping mechanism, something something sloppy james scott citation here.

the disavowal of humanity as a homogeneous group or race was refreshing, and I don't just mean in terms of the international posse of characters. I really appreciate the awareness in the narrative of the fact that apocalypses and disasters are nothing new to communities who have already experienced turmoil and the ongoing present/slow violence/necropolitics of colonialism and imperialism. as the common refrain in decolonial circles goes: the world ended long ago in 1492. and the book takes that seriously and grapples with why the residents of Tawakul would be deeply suspicious of the american secret ops teams coming to them, and is sympathetic to them if not siding with them. there's a good evisceration and explicit consideration of american imperialism and homo sacer regimes, eg. this segment where seth lays it bare and we're transparently not meant to see this as a good thing:

You are a contractor, and therefore you are not subject to American military law. But you are not on American soil, and therefore you are not subject to American criminal or civil law. No law exists for you. So I have created myself to enforce a deeper law. The law of right and wrong.

and the epigraph has this obama quote:

Turns out I’m really good at killing people. Didn’t know that was gonna be a strong suit of mine. —President Barack Obama

which seth includes a citation for probably because they anticipated people going "wait, obama really said that?"

I'm not inclined to laud seth dickinson just for depicting viewpoints that have long been the default in segments of fiction outside the US media landscape (all this is not new to anyone who's spent 30 minutes researching the CIA on wikipedia or read about the USA's interventions in Southeast Asia) but I do like the gumption in centering the wretched of the earth. and very few things in this book feel tacked on, from subaltern perspectives to sexuality to the magic system. for better or worse everything is very intentional and constructed. whether that feels like rigid artifice or art to you will depend.

I also have a line in my notes for this post that goes "seth is very sciencey: he expresses human insights via mathematical language. compare to anthropological slant of le guin" I've forgotten what I was going to say, but I like that seth is interdisciplinary to steal a friend's phrase. I was bamboozled by the abstract maths in this (I'm not conversant in mathematical theory, alas, I should fix that) but after a while I was like: oh! these math debates are just like the structuralism/poststructuralism split, albeit expressed in well, STEM language, and: hey, this sounds just like assemblage theory. I've connected the dots.

other things (actually very central):

Khaje and Anna's relationship. THEIR RELATIONSHIP!!! the bit where khaje says "I should've asked my daughter to come home sooner so I could spend more time with her" ...

Ssrin and Ssenenet (her sister), all the tantalising nuggets of complicated sister relationships Seth gave us. if you thought I wouldn't be going in the direction of lesbian snake incest, you thought wrong, I am entirely down for that shit and craving fic though we've gotten barely 4 paragraphs about them

Khaje, Arin, and Anna/Jiyan, aka weird snarly triangle of platonic jealousy between a slighted actual daughter, her estranged mother, and said mother’s sort-of surrogate daughter

THE BODY HORROR I didn't get nightmares but you might and the body horror is impeccable and mixes both metaphysical horror (what if Hell was an actual place?) and fleshly ones

the ubiets and old gods, yay for cosmic

i should've also expected it given that it's seth, but the ending can be quite a downer. seth does the thing where they build up hope and then it crashes. i'm TragedySicko #6969 and have a libido for melancholic misery so I loved the emotional devastation, but I felt like I needed a drink and to inhale a depressing book about grief to properly process my feelings after.

segments I wheezed at:

Khaje groans. She can tolerate Arîn Tawakuli, but only when she has been awake for between three and eight hours, only if she doesn’t have a hangover, and only if she doesn’t hear any particularly cheerful birds. Arîn is too young to remember the hard times of civil war. She’s an Apoist and a true believer in jineology and Khaje resents her. Not for her beliefs, but for the ability to believe. Arîn also loves to tell people that Khaje isn’t really crazy, she just has PTSD. For that Khaje truly despises her.

“He’s my uniformed prisoner now. What do you think I’m going to do, heval? Torture him?” “You have been acting pretty strange!” Arîn blurts. “Sitting out there all night watching the Ugandans—skipping all the assembly meetings—I mean, you’re sober, that’s kind of out of character!” People laugh. Khaje bristles: “Fuck your mother, Arîn.” “Hey, we don’t curse mothers here,” Arîn snaps. “It’s bad jineology.” “Can everyone stop talking about mothers!” Haydar screams.

3 (after a nuclear detonation):

“How can our pickups be broken, but not their tanks?” Khaje demands. “Look at them, driving all over our meadow. Look, Arîn, they’re destroying your sustainably planted wildflowers. They’re ruining your topsoil.” “This is amazing,” Arîn says. “Look, the blasts cover the whole sky! They must have hit the entire hemisphere, at least!” “So?” “So the power is out everywhere. This could be the intervention we need to break out of the trap of endless growth, Khaje! The end of the Anthropocene!”

what I didn't vibe with as much

the Erik and Clayton interludes. dear god. I'm sorry, they represent the key levers of the american imperialist establishment and their presence has narrative importance and clayton is an expy/critique of Obama and "first Black guy to drop an atomic bomb"-style diversity rhetoric + there's a scene where it all does pay off, but... to borrow a meme, I'm tired of hearing about all these american men. I just did not care about their childhood reminisces and I would've loved to hear more about Anna and Khaje's childhoods instead. their madonna complex over Rosamaria was also tiring

and a paratextual note: I came into this a little suspicious of Seth or at least not as generous as I could be after reading Baru 1. I was proven wrong. still, they have this annoying habit of chastising themself in interviews for not citing female writers as inspirations off the cuff more often when it's like... you could prepare your answers beforehand. but I digress.

things I'm musing about

I've been comparing this a little to le guin's oeuvre, because I'm thinking about stories that centre small interactions but have high-concept interplanetary stakes. both le guin and seth do that, but le guin's writing distinctly feels anti-epic to me in a way seth's doesn't. perhaps because seth appears to subscribe to a "maths and engineering is the answer to the universe"-style idea.

lastly: I've never really believed in the recent grimdark/cozy division in sff circles, it's as meaningless to me as angst/fluff categories in fic. form IS related to content but there are stories with grimdark or gritty aesthetics that have pretty hopeful conceptions of justice, ethics, history, revolution, etc. and feel-good stories that are the inverse, that refuse myopically to reckon with uncomfortable histories and ironically end up looking way more cynical and nihilist to me. in the first category I'd place films like mad max: fury road. this is a book that ironically does have a spark of hope at the end: anna's people survive a nuclear apocalypse. and this book, I think, might very loosely belong in the former, which is an endorsement coming from me.

#exordia #seth dickinson #book reviews #meikuree talks #long post

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dangertoozmanykids101 · 8 months

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TOOZ WRITING PROMPT

Today's inspirational exhibit shall feature some naughty nudies in Ascii coded images and any muse images where I could find our boys even near a computer.

I'm in the mood for some tech nerds and IT experts to work on our gal's system. Let's tell our heroine what she needs and what our talented muse can do for her.

Today is my brilliant husband's birthday. I will proudly brag that he is a golden boy in a pretty big pond. He is a problem solver and can learn anything he needs to on the fly.

I'll be honest - when he tells me about work, I get so turned on! He is sexy as all hell when he is achieving the impossible! Plus that man spoils me rotten with solutions to problems I never even knew I had, because there is always an easier way this or that could be done. He'll figure it out. From day one, this man has me wrapped around his finger!

So to celebrate hubby's birthday in my own little way, I'm posting a prompt for some tech talk telling our heroine about what can fit in her available slots.

Let's talk titties!

For your inspiration, I have collected a few ascii images and stuff, all on the topic of tits and ass. You can thank @latent-thoughts, @maple-seed, and @muddyorbs for this rabbit hole I fell down this afternoon.

This shot's from @sebstanlove on Instagram.

@caffiend-queen @nildespirandum @jtargaryen18 @so-easy-to-love-me @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtiggerv2 @acidcasualties @michelleleewise @muddyorbs @lokisgoodgirl @talklokitome @lokischambermaid @wolfsmom1 @alexakeyloveloki @redfoxwritesstuff @myoxisbroken @ladyoftheteaandblood @imanuglywombat @deceitfuldevout @spectre-posts @wiypt-writes @mochie85 @americasass81 @mastreworld @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @nekoamamori @mooncat163 @devikafernando

I'm trying to remember who got a kick outta these prompts ? If don't want to be tagged, no worries - just let me know. We all use Tumblr differently. And I am crazy disorganized, but I promise I will start a list this week!!!

#toozmanykids #tooz writing prompts #tooz prompts

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brideofdiscord-rewritten · 8 months

Text

Bride of Discord Chapter 10:

The Mirror

The cracks of dawn nipped at discord's eyes and shine through his feathers. They illuminated as a translucent tigers eye. Each plume shivered ever so delicately, quivering in waves as the skin underneath rippled. Down his nerves breathed a prickly radiation. Across the badlands of his own floating plumage the ripples bore onto the small yellow Pegasus. Floating like a lotus on water her feathers and coat trembled airy and wisped off the morning dew.

The expansive inhale she let out was her only signal of incoming consciousness, and discord retracted his paw from around her shoulders.

As she awoke, the creature in front of her clouded her vision like a warm blanket. supposedly asleep. She saw that his body had curled around her. Of course, now she was awake and hungry. Satisfyingly yet, she was not cold.

Of course waking the draconequus would be considered rude. Besides, his body was soft wrapped jaggedly around her own. she had no other choice but to make herself comfortable. Doing this, she heard a low chuckle. She turned to the draconequus, who opened his eyes suddenly.

"Good morning!"

She let out a shriek and jumped out of his hold. He only laughed harder. She chuckled as well!

"Did you sleep well, my dear?"

Fluttershy relaxed and replied, "Yeah! I expected to be cold, but it never came."

"No nightmares?"

"No…actually, I haven't slept that well in a good while. Maybe a year."

"Splendid!"

A plate of muffins appeared before them. As she took one, she thought of her pegasus friend, Derpy.

"I was thinking," Discord said while chewing, "maybe we could do something together, like ice skating."

Fluttershy choked on her muffin. "Ice skating?"

"Sure. It's fun! Or would you prefer something else?"

"N-no…ice skating would be…nice. It's just that I have to feed the animals…"

"All taken care of."

"What's the hurry?"

"I always get bored in the mornings! I don't need to stretch because I move all the time! And I need movement."

He's always so eager to do so much. If he wanted to do it so bad he could do it himself... But it's always nicer with friends!

A while of eating and digestion passed before they decided to walk to their own local pond, courtesy of the Everfree Forest. Only, the dark and harsh landscape seemed so much earthier, no more castle.

She strapped on nearly pastel skates, with the guards still on. They were clay and spring sage, her favorite combination of colors.

"I wanna show you something! Take the gaurds off!

As he began twirling on the frozen pond, Fluttershy looked down at it unsurely. She took a step onto the ice and tried to balance herself, but fell over after putting all four hooves down.

"now promise not to hit me, while I promise that what I'm doing is safe."

"Help?" she squeaked.

Seeing her plight, Discord glided over to her. He gently lifted her back onto her hooves. She hung her head.

"Oh don't worry, you'll have time to get the hang of it!" She seemed lifted as she smiled at him. His chest skittered. Quickly, something!

He chucked the skate in the air, swinging rapidly and standing just for a moment before swish! as the blade plummeted near his head. It cut through the atmosphere before stopping haphazardly just above his head.

Fluttershy stay crouched and stunned. Her jaw hung stiff as her eyes seemed to shrink. She slid frozen across the ice. Stutteringly.

"Magic! Can't hurt us."

"you ASS!"

His ears perked up as she howled in nervous laughter. He hovered in a snake-like position. He cackled! "You scared the bajeebus outta me!"

He held her up as they slid across the ice, every slight imperfection cut clean by the blade, fluid and light. It was like flying; however, more stable here than in flight. "I'll probably have to teach you forever! You're no Tonya Yearling."

Well, you're no Bridle Boitano!"

He grabbed her by the front hooves as they spun gently, them rapidly as they stared into each other.

Discord tenderly took her front hooves, and then moved behind her.

"Okay, so basically what you're doing is walking on ice. Take a step forward and…"

"That you don't know how to skate? Don't be silly! That means I have the honor of teaching you! Oh, that is," he bowed dramatically, "if you would give me that honor."

"Maybe I should show you first." He skated in front of her. "Try it like this." He glided on one foot and said rhythmically, "One, two, three," and then switched to the other foot, "one, two, three… See? Now you try."

Fluttershy tried to step forward again, only to lose her balance again. Discord caught her immediately.

Fluttershy gulped and followed his instructions, counting aloud, "One, two, three…one, two, three…"

"That's it!" Discord exclaimed. "Keep going!"

With every glide, Fluttershy became more confident. Her terror returned, however, as she drew near the edge of the pond.

"Discord!" she cried, returning to all fours. "How do I stop?!"

"Oh dear," Discord muttered. "Point your toes inward!"

"What are toes??!" The edge was fast approaching. "At least tell me how to turn!"

"Simply turn your hooves!"

She tried to do this, but the blades got tangled in her tail. Discord slapped himself in the forehead.

"PIZZA!! PIZZA!!"

Fluttershy shut her eyes and prepared for impact. Instead, she felt herself being lifted into the air. She opened her eyes to see that Discord was holding her above his head.

"You know what?" he said with a smirk. "I like it better when we do it together."

He set her down again, this time, keeping his hands on her shoulders.

"Now, to speed up, you keep your legs parallel to each other. To slow down, you point your front hooves slightly inward. Think of it like…French fries and pizza! French fries to go faster, pizza to slow down!"

They skated together for a long time. Discord showed her a few tricks, but she only attempted those she did with him. At one point, she tried to spin, only to fall backward. Discord summoned up a snow bank for her to collapse into. Thanks to this, she landed softly. The draconequus laughed and fell next to her.

Discord began to play... disco music? Fluttershy opened the eyes she never knew closed. They now wore matching earthy green bodysuits, complete with ascots, bell bottoms, chunky jewelry, and mirror tassels. His neckline plunged to the bottom of his sternum, while hers did the same with her halter top. Disco music played from a rather large boom box.

"You're brilliant, my dear!" he exclaimed, ruffling her hair. "A little rough around the edges, but brilliant, nonetheless!"

They danced swinging, tossing her as she seemed to instinctively know the moves. Overhead, toss, swing dancing! Two different eras!

He held her above his head as they twirled and spun. He stared at her crooked smile as she squealed and snorted, and he smiled warm. Even blocking the sun, she seemed brighter than it. There was nothing more that they'd like to do than stay on the ice with each other, dancing. Let's keep dancing.

The next few moons went along smoothly. Now that Fluttershy was no longer afraid of Discord, the two could spend time more easily. He would still give her time alone with her animals, though sometimes he couldn't help but watch how gentle she was with them. He also kept his routine of asking his question each night. Do you love me? He asked. Each night for 6 nights were the same.

"Do you love me?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

Her mind would also wander to the friends she had left behind. She could barely look in her closet, for the clothes reminded her of Rarity. She could hardly read a book, for it reminded her of Twilight. The sight of an apple or rainbow would bring her to tears, and anything involving parties caused her grief.

Discord took notice of this, as her smile wavered every time she thought of her friends. Any Material gift would not help, and he allowed her space to simply feel her pain. This was something he knew too well. But the sobbing coming from her door was not.

"Fluttershy?"

The crying ceased, and in a cracked voice, she called, "Come in."

He peered inside to see Fluttershy on her bed, her back to him. He could hear a few sniffs coming from her.

"Is everything alright, my friend?" he inquired, making a cautious step forward. "You weren't at breakfast."

"I…I'm fine," she choked, rubbing her eyes. "I just…wasn't hungry."

As he came round the bed, Fluttershy tried to hide her tear streaked face, but he had already seen it.

"You've been crying," he stated.

Why was she still crying? He thought things had been going well between them. He had brought her animals, treated her respectfully, and yet she was still unhappy. It was paining him. She could never marry him in this state, it'd take forever for the plan to be set in motion!

"No," Fluttershy denied. "I…I'm fine, really."

He placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around to face him. "Don't you lie to me! I can always tell! Nobody gonna put one over on ole' discord! "

"Sorry." She turned away from him as he sat beside her. "Come now, my dear. Tell me what's wrong."

Still looking down, she slowly rotated her head in his direction. "You…you won't get mad?"

He tilted her head up with his eagle claw and used his paw to brush her mane out of her face. "I promise. Just tell me what's troubling you, my dear, so I may know how to make you happy again."

She stared into his eyes, seeing them filled with concern and kindness, a look she would never have expected from the Lord of Chaos. It was as if he truly cared for her and wanted to comfort her. He could not do that without knowing the truth.

"I miss my friends!" she blurted.

Oh dearie.

"Not as is I'm unhappy with you, but..." She looked away, afraid of how he would react, but she had to say it. "You said you would do anything to make me happy."

"I did," Discord muttered guiltily.

"Then let me see my friends. Please? Just for a moment?"

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, filling up with another set of tears. He could not bear to see her so miserable, perhaps because the plan was at stake. His mighty miles of chaos could be gone in an instant. Moreover, how could she possibly see her friends? If he were to send her back for any reason even for a moment, the deal was broken, and nothing beyond that could possibly work.

Yet he could not disappoint her either. If only there was a way to grant her wish without the risk of losing her. Then it struck him.

"Very well, my dear. With this claw, I shall lift your sorrows."

A glimmer of hope appeared on her face. "You mean you'll let me see my friends?"

He cringed. "Well…sort of."

Discord snapped his fingers and a mirror materialized in his hand. "This is a magic mirror. Tell it what you want to see, and it will show it to you.

Fluttershy frowned as he placed the mirror in her hooves. "Oh, I…I thought…"

"This way, you can see your friends whenever you like without breaking the deal! Besides, you can't see anything you wouldn't want to."

"Oh, okay. I'd like to see my friends please."

She waited, but there was nothing in the mirror but her own reflection.

"You'll have to be more specific," Discord explained.

"Oh, um…show me Applejack?

The image blurred and soon her cowgirl friend was before her, preparing a pie in her kitchen. It lifted her spirits to see her.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He watched her face expectantly. Come on, my dear, give a smile! The one he got was hesitant and unsure, but it was a smile nonetheless. At least she had stopped crying.

"You're very welcome," he chimed. "Now, you up for breakfast?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I had lots of fruit pies."

"Then I'll leave you to your business then. Will you come to lunch later?"

"Yes, thank you."

He grinned, taking one last look at her before shutting the door. Fluttershy repositioned herself on the bed and leaned back against her pillow as she watched the scene in the mirror. Applejack was slicing apples for her pie. Spike was standing there beside her.

"You sure you don't want me to help?" he asked.

Applejack cringed. "That's mighty nice of ya, Spike, but last time you helped me bake a pie…"

"Come on, it wasn't that bad! Rarity liked it…

Her heart fluttered at the mention of the mare.

"Yeah… Speakin' of which, shouldn't ya be helpin' her with somethin'? Not that I don't appreciate ya bein' here, but…ya know, since you and Rarity…"

Her face was becoming all pinched at the mention of Spike's crush on Rarity.

"Oh, right," the dragon mumbled, crossing his arms as he slumped to the floor. "About that…rainbow dash..."

She paused her slicing and looked up, straight ahead instead of at spike. Her face flushed. Did she not like the thought of her being with rarity?

"what about her?"

"Well, she's been being really lovey-dovey with rarity." Spike said with disappointment.

"Yeah, I do say we all some is some rarity time!" If she didn't want rainbow with Rarity she'd have to discuss it with them and she hates sit-down convos. But she felt it was something more.

"I think she's dating Rarity."

...

Nothing. She thought of rainbow nuzzling rarity and her stomach flip flopped, she wanted to cuddle them too. She wasn't jealous...

"Really? Whaddya know about datin'?" She looked down at the dragon. "Does her being there bother you, Spike?" She asked soft as cotton.

"Rarity's been spending a lot more time with her, They had three dances at the Gala last week! And Rarity…talks about her a lot…but she talks about you too!"

"Ya think they might be courtin'?"

"No, I think they might be dating."

"Gee, I'm sorry to hear that, Spike."

Dashie being so sweet, only to her and Rarity, being similarly competitive and rambunctious, complex and racing about whatever she's interested in that month... Applejack's heart was racing. Man, she needed to spend more time with her friend huh? She hoped she wasn't mad a rainbow for whatever reason.

"Some things just ain't meant to be. I'm sorry you had to learn that way boyo, but you're too young for her."

"Easy for you to say," the dragon murmured. "You don't know what it's like to care for someone who doesn't return your feelings!"

"You'd be surprised," Applejack mumbled.

"I asked around and somepony said something about 'leading me on.' Is that what she did? I don't think I know what it means..."

"goodness no spike! She loves you as a friend, or baby-figure! she didn't lead you on because she wouldn't do that! She was nice to you because she loves you as a friend!"

"You think so?"

"I know Rarity. She may not show it sometimes, but she is sensitive on how others feel. She didn't wanna reject you because she knew it'd make you sad. She thought you'd get over her."

When she was done preparing the pie, she put it in the oven. "Hey, if ya wanna get your mind off Rarity, how 'bout ya come with me to Canterlot tomorrow when I take these pies to the orphans?"

Spike perked up. "Really?"

"There are gonna be a lot of pies. I'll need a few extra hooves, err, claws."

"I think it's great that you're always helping those orphans."

Applejack blushed. "Well, since I'm an orphan myself, I feel it's my duty. Those colts and fillies don't have ponies like Granny Smith to take care of 'em. Until they do, we gotta make 'em happy."

"like how Twilight is my mama!" His face is deeper purple. He's so happy to have said this for the first time!

Fluttershy now understood what Applejack was going through and was happy for her, yet a little sad for Spike.

"Hey Applejack, do you think…Fluttershy's okay?"

The pegasus' smile vanished.

"I…I think so," Applejack said weakly. "Zecora said she'll be okay, and…she can take care of herself…"

"You think he's married her by now?"

"I…I don't know…"

Fluttershy figured she should see what was going on between Rarity and Rainbow Dash.

"Show me Rarity, please," she said to the mirror.

The scene shifted to the café in Ponyville. The couple she had requested for was sitting at a table, looking at the menus.

"What do you think darling? Seafood or lamb?"

The blue mare glanced around. "Cafes here are so much cozier than on cloudsdale! You can have stuff that doesn't fall through clouds built here!

The mare breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you think so."

The waiter approached the table. "Have you made your selection?" Rainbow faltered.

"hope you like seafood doll, cuz I haven't had it in years!"

"Oh, excellent choice! Our shipment is fresh as daisies!"

"In that case, two orders!"

Fluttershy could tell if they were courting, but they both seemed to be enjoying themselves. Rarity looked on in abject love as rainbow tore up some free bread sticks.

"I'm gonna pack some up and send it to flutters. Just the veggies and noodles though."

Rarity's and Fluttershy's faces carried equal expressions at that moment.

"How very brave of her. I miss her every day."

"Ditto... Hey doll-face, I sent her some glitter ink so if she messages we'll know it's her."

They kissed just a peck. Rarity held the other's face in her hoof.

Fluttershy could listen no longer and decided to check on twilight, but not before listening to one last thing.

"I think I wanna kiss Applejack."

"me too! We have so much in common!"

The mirror shifted to the library, where twilight say outside coddled in large coats. Right, it was wintertime! And twilight is northern, so she knew how to handle it!

Twilight Sparkle created matching bookmarks for all her friends. Her Yakistani teapot nestled in the snow near her cup, filled to the brim with chai. Fluttershy could practically smell the spices through the mirror. She watched twilight play in the snow and roll around in it. Her eyes caught the bookmark with her name on it, decorated with pictures of marigolds, forget-me-nots, bleeding hearts, and lily of the valleys.

Fluttershy was about to tear up again and asked to see Pinkie Pie. She was at Sugar Cube Corner, throwing a party. Apparently, it was Derpy's birthday. Fluttershy smiled to know that Pinkie was in her usual spirits. But as the energetic pony served the cake, tears suddenly filled her eyes.

"What's the matter?" Derpy asked.

Pinkie stared at the butter cream frosting. It took a second for Fluttershy to realize that it was the same color as her coat.

"I…I miss Fluttershy!" she wailed before the waterfall erupted.

"Oh, Fluttershy," she said, sighing heavily. "Things haven't been the same without you. I can't help but blame myself. I hope…I hope that…whatever you're going through…you're okay. I miss you."

I miss you too...

Discord lay sprawled upon his bed as it hung on the ceiling. In his own mirror, he had been watching Fluttershy watch her friends, but had muted it so not to invade her privacy too much. As she started weeping again, he pounded his fist on the bed.

"Come on!" he exclaimed.

He had tried so hard to make her happy, only to have her sad again. He did not understand it at all.

His reflection then appeared in the mirror, laughing at Fluttershy's image.

She then set the mirror face down and buried her face in her pillow.

"How wonderful!" it chimed. "And here I thought you had gone soft, but you still manage to bring misery to ponies!"

"Shut up!" Discord yelled, throwing a pillow at the mirror.

The reflection dodged it and Fluttershy's image rippled as the pillow made contact.

"Don't tell me you're sympathizing with this pony! Can't you see she's nothing but a whiny crybaby?"

The mirage ducked as another pillow was tossed.

"How dare you insult the mare I intend to make my queen?!" Discord hollered.

His reflection laughed. "That wimpy pegasus, your queen?!"

The draconequus flew over and glared at his mirror image directly in the eye. "You call her that one more time and it's the junkyard for you! Understand?!"

"Ha! You think getting rid of this mirror will make me go away? I'm not the damned mirror, I'm the reflection!"

Discord punched his paw in the mirror, letting out a furious cry. His ears rang as the world around him muffled. He then saw his reflection, distorted from the cracked glass. It was true. He was the Lord of Chaos. How could he think he could make some pony happy, when it was in his nature to cause suffering?

He shielded his eyes from the horrifying image and sank to the floor. His chest pounded and his vision remained spotty. He did not hear the door open, or the dainty clomping of hooves. It was the light touch on his head that broke him out of his trance.

"Discord?"

He looked up suddenly and saw the lovely pegasus standing before him. He quickly faked a smile.

"Oh, hello there, Fluttershy! What can I do for you, my dear?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I think the question is what can I do for you?"

He turned away. "Don't be silly, my dear. Your happiness is much more important than mine."

She walked up to him and put a hoof to his paw. He glanced down at it, as a knot formed in his stomach. She knew something was wrong, but did not question it, for she had already guessed.

"I know why you wanted a bride," she stated.

He bit his lip. "Um…I was bored?"

"You're lonely."

Discord scoffed. "What?! Don't be ridiculous! I'm the Master of Chaos!" He glanced at her nervously. "Why would I be lonely?"

"A thousand years, and you've never had one friend. Any pony would be lonely under those circumstances."

He looked away sadly. "I'm not a pony."

"That shouldn't matter. All creatures have feelings."

"Don't waste your pity on me. I'm not one of your fuzzy critters."

He met her eyes, and his heart tumbled inside his chest. He wondered if it was that Stare of hers, but no, this was something more powerful and probably unintentional. It was a look no one had given him before: a look of sympathy

He sighed. He could not lie anymore.

"I will admit it is nice to have some pony to talk to. And…" He cupped her face in his claw. "I'm glad it was you who came."

She gave him a warm smile. "I'm kind of glad too."

"Although," he turned away, stroking his beard, "I think I would have preferred Pinkie Pie."

Fluttershy was shocked. "W-what?"

"Well, she does like my chocolate rain."

"YOU'RE JOKING!"

"Got ya, didn't I?" he laughed, ruffling her hair. "I'm kidding! You should have seen the look on your face! You were so jealous!"

"I…I was not jealous," she stammered.

"Oh really? What if I told you I was exchanging you for another mare?"

"Well, don't you ever for a second get to thinking you're irreplaceable!

He feigned indignation.

"That was ruder than I expected. I was joking."

He picked her up like a cat. "Don't worry, my dear. You're the only pony for me."

Fluttershy was struck dumb as he suddenly pulled her into a hug. She did not mind the gesture, though it surprised her. It was that last sentence that had caused her speechlessness. He had said it so cheerfully, yet not in a joking manner. And the way he was holding her now, so tight and yet so gentle, as if he neither wanted to crush her nor let her go, as if she were something precious. As he did this, she could not help but feel…safe, as if he would not let anything bad happen to her.

Discord seemed to think nothing odd of the action, though he was hesitant in pulling away. Fluttershy could have sworn he had a dreamy look in his eyes as he stared at her.

"Well, I'm hungry!" he said suddenly. "Why don't we have lunch outsiiiide!" He sung. "Ooh, did you hear me hit that high note?"

"sounded like it hit you right back!"

His eyes glinted with excitement as he set her down. "Wonderful! I'll be waiting outside! Don't be too long, my dear!"

As he teleported out of the room, Fluttershy stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Her heart was racing at a speed that would challenge Rainbow Dash, something she did not think possible. Her face was so hot, she was sure it had turned red. And it was all because of how Discord had held her.

"Oh dearie."

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sl-newsie · 4 months

Text

Cryophobia (Racetrack Higgins x OC) *Winter Special* ❄️

Summary: Racetrack tries to ask a girl on a date, but seems to regret it when she coaxes him into ice skating. Will a small accident possibly dilate their new love?

“Extra! Extra! Coal inventory down 20 percent!”

“Colder weather expected throughout the week! Get your paper right here!”

I do my best to ignore the huddled newsies, who are currently in my way. It doesn’t help when the younger one looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes, and all but begs for me to buy a paper.

“I’m so sorry! I’d luv to, but I don’t have much spare change.” To make up for what I cannot provide, I give the sad child one of my apples. “It’s not much. I do hope you get better customers.”

I turn to continue on my way, but have now caught the attention of the odda newsie.

“Hey Les, who’s your friend?” He asks.

The child called Les shakes his head and holds up the apple. “I donno. I tried to sell her a pape but instead she gave me this.”

The questionnaire steps forward, one hand clutching a newsbag and the odda holding a cigar… but it’s not lit.

“Well hello there, miss.” He removes his hat in a gentlemanly fashion. “And what might a young lady such as yourself be do’n on this crisp evening?”

“Returning from the market. May I inquire who’s asking?”

The man lets out a laugh. “‘Inquire?’ That’s a big word! Ya read much?” He lifts up a newspaper and wiggles his eyebrows. “I could deliver one to you straight away tomorrow.”

His teasing tugs at my heart and I can’t help but smile. “Possibly. But why should I tell you where I live, hm? I don’t even know your name.”

He nods respectfully and tips his hat. “Racetrack Higgins at your service, miss. Friends call me Race.”

I smile politely. “Good to meet you, Race. I’m assuming that’s a nickname?”

“Sure is,” he states proudly. “I’s one-a the best gamblers in ‘Hattan. Now may I ask who you are, beautiful?”

Normally, my parents’ lessons have taught me not to speak so much with strangers. This Race character may be new to me, but he is certainly much better than other men I’ve had to converse with.

“It’s Emily, Emily Shelby.”

Race’s eyes go wild. “Shelby? As in Father Shelby, the minister? God… Whaddya do’n out this late? Your fadda won’t like that!”

I laugh at his sudden caution. “Believe me, I’m not as uptight as my family. They think I’m supposed to be a simple girl who stays home and will become a housewife, but for now I’ve been enjoying what freedom I have outside.”

This seems to spark an idea in Race, because he suddenly gets very excited.

“Well, if you’s so keen on do’n something fun, how ‘bout I take ya out?”

I must admit, his boldness is intriguing. Already he’s proven to be polite and chivalrous, both redeeming qualities that I respect very much. Besides, I’ve already grown up 20 years and am still being pushed to find a suitor. It’s time I stop putting it off and start courting.

I snicker and give him a nod. “Alright. You claim the date, I name the activity on said date.”

Race’s smug look shows a quick flicker in surprise to my response. “Well alrighty, then! What’d ya have in mind, beautiful?”

I smirk. “Ice skating.”

The man’s eager face falters darkly in a split second to almost reflect a look of pure terror, almost too fast to notice. But he quickly regains himself and shows a confident smile.

“Very well. I assume you know the best spot?”

“Indeed I do, Higgins. There’s a pond not too far outta town.”

“What about me?”

We both turn back to the smaller newsie, who’s starting to shiver. I kneel down and offer him my gloves.

“It’s get’n dark, Les. You should head back and warm up. Tell Davey I’ll be late.” Race looks over at me with a cheesy grin. “Tell him I’ve got a date.”

Les nods eagerly and scurries off.

“So where to?”

I stand up and point to the trail leading north. Race offers an arm, which I take graciously, and we both start walking through the crisp air. Thankfully we’re on the edge of town and the pond is close by, because the air’s already starting to get colder. Race must notice, because he begins to take off his jacket.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugs. “It’s cold, figured you’s could warm up more.”

I hold up a hand to stop him and gesture for him to put his coat back on. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I don’t get cold too easily. You need your coat more than I, Race. I promise this won’t be too long- oh! Here we are!”

For now there’s no falling snow, but that won’t last long. I lead Race to the edge and notice that the ice is untouched, which is strange since I thought more people would’ve been here by now.

“Don’t we need skates?” Race asks as he gives the pond a skeptical look.

“Not necessarily. I’ve never been able to afford skates, so I just slide with my boots on.” I grab a nearby stick and give the ice a stiff poke, discovering that it’s smooth enough. “Good conditions for skating. Very smooth, very sturdy. Just one thing-” I turn to Race and change to a serious tone: “Be careful by the edge and the center. That’s where the ice is the weakest.”

He nods in understanding and still seems cautious of the ice, so I decide to show him by stepping out foist. Race eventually seems convinced and carefully steps out too, already slipping all over the ice.

“Hang on!” I help steady him before he can fall. “One step at a time, Higgins- ah!”

Race lets out a yelp when he slips again, causing him to cling to my chest. The closeness sends my heart beating like a crazed metronome, as well as bringing Race to get a mischievous look on his face.

“Gee, Emily. If you’s was so desperate to get close, all ya gotta do is ask!”

I roll my eyes and help him regain his balance. “Careful, Higgins. Remember I’m the minister’s daughter, and boundaries are very important.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He tests out the ice again and soon begins gliding around as well, each of us leaving trails all over the snow. By now it’s starting to snow, making it harder to see. Eventually Race gets the hang of it and, before I can comprehend what’s going on, he slides up behind me and spins me around.

“Whoa! Wait- aah!” I giggle and laugh as the brown-eyed newsie twirls me through the billowing snow. No one has ever made me feel this full-hearted, so free-spirited… As if we’re skating in a magic snow globe apart from reality itself.

Race must notice my dazed state because he slows down to try to look at me more carefully through the white, blinding blizzard. He has a strange look too, as if he’s thinking about something serious.

“Emily, I just wanna say that- Oh God!”

We both hear it before we know what’s going on. I feel Race shove me away just as the crack forms, ripping open the ice and swallowing Race into the frigid water. My heart stops, as well as all the happiness I’d just felt, as I scramble over to see what’s become of my new friend.

“Race? Race! Oh my God! Where are you?!” I shriek as I feel around the cold water, hoping to catch him. It appears that God has heard me, because I feel a hand grasp mine and Race resurfaces. He’s coughing and shaking as if he has personally met Death, leading me to react with panic.

“Here, here! Up, up, quick!” I help him crawl up outta the water and carefully lead him back off the pond and onto solid ground, where I immediately start to tear his waterlogged clothes off.

But Race sees this differently.

“Wait- What-? Emily, whaddya doing?” He asks in a confused manner.

“You’s soaked to the bone, and these icy clothes is just gonna make hypothermia even worse!” I explain as I strip him down to his knickers and undershirt, then remove my own cloak to wrap it around him. “Quick! We need to get you someplace warm. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Th- Th- The lodging h-house,” he tries to answer through shiver fits. “‘S- ‘S not t-too far.”

My mind forms out a plan and I sling an arm around him. “Alright, let’s go. Hurry! We’ve gotta be quick if you don’t wanna catch cold.”

“Too late,” Race tries to joke, but this is no laughing matter. He’s pale as snow and his lips are turning blue.

Time drags on, apparently wanting to torment me with worry as we rush back to town. When I ask Race for directions he points to a street leading further into ‘Hattan, and thankfully I am quick to spot a sign that says Newsboys Lodging House. I don’t even bother knocking.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask Race.

“Up-upstairs.”

After I help drag him up what seems like an infinite number of stairs I finally get him to the bathroom and have him sit in a tub, but leave his clothes on to give him privacy.

“We can’t heat you up too fast, so just bear with me.” I start the water with a steady temperature, meanwhile Race is grasping my cloak around him for dear life. After a while he finally starts to get some color back on his face.

“Are you still numb?” I ask hesitantly.

He gets a funny grin on his face and shakes his head. “I can feel my feet again!”

I nod again and again, trying to remember if there’s any treatment I forgot. There doesn’t seem to be, so all I can do now is kneel down next to Race and look at him with guilt and apology.

“Race, I am so sorry! This is all my fault, and I will replace your clothes. And… I understand if you wanna forget about this-”

“Are ya kidding?” The short newsie finds sensation in his hand to grasp mine and he starts laughing. “Doll, that’s gotta be one-a the most terrifying moments of my life, and I luved it! I mean, all my life I’s been too scared to skate, and here you are look’n all innocent and gorgeous ask’n me to skate with ya! God, Mush is gonna laugh when he hears this!”

But I don’t laugh. All I can do is gawk and stare at his laid-back response.

“Emily? You ok?”

Jaw still on the floor, shake my head. “I just- You… You almost caught hypothermia and you’re just- just laughing about it? How are you so calm?”

Race shrugs. “Gotta laugh sometimes. If you don’t, life gets too sad.” He sits up straighter and his smile grows softer. “I’d never wanna forget you, Emily. Not if it means never having adventures like this again. Besides,” He gives me a teasing wink. “Was really sweet to see how you’s really care ‘bout me.”

I let out a heavy groan and hold my head in my hands. “It’s called adrenaline. Makes people do crazy things.”

“I disagree.” I feel Race trail his thumb across my cheek. “I think it highlights who a person really is, how they really feel. And if I’s right…” I feel him shift in the water and look up to see his face only inches from mine. “Now that I can feel my face again-” He pauses to cup my face in his hands and leans in impossibly closer. “I can feel your soft lips.”

And then he kisses me. Full-out and deep-hearted. He ironically makes me go numb, and sends a million emotions coursing through me. I don’t even hesitate when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into the tub with him, both of us lost in thought.

Race pulls away foist because I’s too dazed to think, and he looks up at me as if I hung the stars.

“I think I luv you…” he thinks out loud in a dreamy voice.

“My my, whadda we got here?” Anodda voice taunts.

I nearly leap outta my skin and jerk my head around to find anodda newsie standing in the doorway, one with an eyepatch. God, how’s this gonna look? The minister’s daughter caught with a half-naked newsie in a bathtub.

Race don’t seem as fazed by it. Instead he just sighs and gives the intruder a warning glare.

“Blink, you so much as utter a word-a this, and I’ll bust your odda eye.” He says this so lightly, as if simply asking for a glass of water, rather than how harsh it’s supposed to sound. Though the message is just as dominating, because ‘Blink’ holds up his hands in surrender and starts walking back.

“Enjoy, c'est la vie, have fun. Forget I was even here.”

Race nods. “That’s what I thought. Now, where were we?” He trails kisses down my still-shocked face. “Don’t mind him, he won’t tell.”

I stir myself outta my trance and get a grasp at what’s happening. “Race… My father won’t like this. You gotta keep it secret, please!”

“So there’s no objection from you?” His face light up and he pulls me closer.

I shake my head and rest it on Race’s chest, giving him a playful smirk. “None at all. I kinda like this.”

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