@audaciious - Tumblr Blog

Gradually, he tilted his head ever so slightly, his elongated neck enabling him to observe Faye, who was perched on his shoulder, with the detached curiosity of a scientist scrutinizing an unusual specimen. Her tail flicked against his epaulet, the movement sending subtle vibrations through the fabric of his coat. He blinked slowly, the golden slits of his pupils narrowing as he breathed in her scent; she was a curious little creature, but he would uncover her true nature back at his estate. She carried the scent of poverty, much like many others. Unpleasant. Common. Yet beneath that, something else resonated, a frequency that made the fine hairs along his mane stand on end.

"You inquire too much," he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness. His gloved fingers twitched, fighting the impulse to pluck her off and shake her like a misbehaving pet. "The Elders serve as caretakers. The Great One is… inevitability." His words slurred at the edges, syllables merging as his eyelids grew heavy. The weight of her presence, her attention, was strangely grounding, like a pin holding a moth in place, preventing it from fluttering away.

"The Great One is beyond your comprehension, slave."

As he moved forward, the trees began to thin out, unveiling the rugged coastline where the sea relentlessly eroded the rocks. His boots scraped against the moist ground, his steps unsteady as fatigue pulled at his limbs. The faint sound of rigging creaking reached his ears, likely the Marines, called forth by Sommers' interference. That was good. He wouldn’t have to struggle home like an ordinary creature. The mere thought of flying made his wings throb beneath his coat, a ghostly ache of overexertion tingling along his shoulder blades.

"Ugh."

Ahead, the ship towered like a dormant giant, its iron hull groaning against the dock as waves crashed against its sides. For a moment, his steps wavered as he swayed, teetering on the brink of slumber, before forcing himself onward. The Marines had dispatched one of their finest warships to retrieve him. Excessive. Yet, they always reacted like startled crabs whenever a Knight's shadow loomed over their decks.

"Come on, I want to go home."

The gangplank creaked under his feet as he climbed, his movements uneven with drowsiness. Faye’s weight on his shoulder had transformed into a dull, nagging discomfort, like a stone in a shoe, overlooked until it became unbearable. He halted at the railing, his nostrils flaring at the pungent scent of naval polish and gunpowder. The Marines saluted with a flurry of white gloves, their expressions meticulously neutral. He didn’t bother to acknowledge them. As he stepped onto the deck, he pinched her by the collar as if she were an insect, lifting her up and placing her down on the ground, while a table and chair were swiftly brought up for him to sit.

"Slave, attend to me while we travel; you can handle basic tasks, right? Cut my food, pour my drinks?"

"Well, bein' kept like a porcelain doll in a glass case most of your life will do that to you," she remarked when told she was too inquisitive. If he had grown annoyed by the questions, he did well to hide it outside of the comment. As much as she wanted to ask more, her insatiable hunger growing with every tidbit he fed her, it was likely time to bite her tongue. There would be time for questions later and whatever she didn't get from him she might be able to get from any slaves he had or that she came across in the Holy Lands.

Killingham made one vital point. The Great One was beyond her comprehension. As far as she was aware, there wasn't meant to be a singular leader of the world government. The throne surrounded by a graveyard of swords should have remained unoccupied.

Withdrawing her hands from her pockets, she leaned against her thighs and bridged her fingers. Similar to a cat's, the tip of Faye's tail flicked back and forth. The knowledge he'd bestowed upon her already was heavy, rife with dangers that might as well be a thousand guns aimed directly at her. Death's eager grin stared down from behind the barrels, a reflection of her own unhinged smile. Hearing the hushed whispers of the waves caressing the ship and shore, she looked up.

Marines scuttled around like cockroaches, moving crates off the deck, their eyes looking everywhere but at the Knight of God when he approached. She cast him a quick glance, noting how uninterested he appeared. PIucked from his shoulder, she didn't struggle; only readjusted her jacket and shirt once her hooves were firmly on the deck. A few glances from the marines hauling an oversized table and chair for him fell on her, the creases between their brows sending a flurry of silent questions her way.

"Yeah, easy enough," she shrugged. Cutting his food and pouring his drinks as if he were a spoiled child beat being in a cage or being chained up like some animal. "Though, are you just gonna call me Slave the entire time?" There wasn't any malice in her tone, but a cool curiosity.

"If you end up gettin' more, it'll start to become confusin' which one you're talkin' to." With that, she flashed him a playful grin. Soft clops followed her steps on the wooden deck until she leaned against the table, crossing her arms. More eyes lingered on her, a few murmurs shared between the apprehensive men. Polished plates and silverware appeared on the table, the men carrying them quick and efficient in their labor to keep from being under the drowsy gaze of their guest.

punchedharder

It's Emily's turn to smirk, accompanied by a cheeky little shrug of her shoulders. It's not like she makes a terrible habit of starting with hard hitters; Emily's just found a good way to gauge conversations for herself lately. Nothing wrong with small talk! She's just God awful at it. She's better at listening, which she's happy to do while Faye answers her. Doe eyes spotlight her entirely, attentive little nods and a small furrow of her brow as she takes in her answer. It was a damn good one, honestly. Good enough she felt so inclined to agree.

❝ Maybe five years ago I could've had a different answer, but I think you've nailed it for both of us. ❞ Which felt a little rare nowadays, for Emily anyway. Her smirk softens into a more sincere smile, head cantering aside as she watches Faye again. ❝ Kind'a feels like somethin' everyone should probably want, right? - Kind'a got'a live with yourself no matter what. Feels natural after a certain point to want to be good on your own terms. ❞ A pause as she glances out around them, brows raising as she takes a breath. Something a little more unserious slips into her tone, smile dimpling now.

❝ Or maybe we're just a little more fucked up than your average Joe, huh? ❞

#punchedharder #v. hellboy #YIPPEEEE #I love hellboy but never get to use this verse lol #Oh I bet they'll get along super fricken well

It was Faye's turn to stare at Emily as she spoke. Five years was a long time. Back then, she would have only wanted to escape her father's rule, perhaps even see him dead, but she had succeeded with one of those. The ladder didn't matter so long as she never saw him again.

"You would think!" She agreed, straightening her back, her interest in Emily further piqued. Then again, thinking about it, it was probably easier for other goals to be achieved than something as selfish as wanting to be good enough. Fame could easily be acquired with something like a killing spree. Of course, it wasn't an ideal way for anyone to get famous, but fame was fame at the end of the day.

"I'm inclined to say we're probably a bit more fucked up. Any sane person would want somethin' like a family or to be the boss of their company. We're tryin' to do the damn impossible." Faye grinned. "Could you imagine bein' the boss of this place? Never a moment's rest."

fellapart

Buggy makes no comment at Faye’s sudden change of position. Why, if they both like each other and are obviously trying to get closer? He just makes more room for her and draws his arm around her shoulder.

“You’re right. My assistants know the days when I shouldn’t be bothered,” he smiles again.

Those days get increasingly more frequent. Hangover and fresh bruises render Buggy a tired, limp floor rag most of the week. But he knows how to reassemble himself into something servable. Otherwise worse things await him.

He stifles the desire to run his hand over her thigh. Despite Faye sending clear signals of her friendly disposition, Buggy doesn’t make an impression as though he thinks she’s too easy.

“I like people like you. They know what they want. I always knew what I wanted.”

Without acting on it for more than twenty years. You’re an awful role model, Buggy, so better shut up about that.

“I love treasures. Do you like treasures? I think it’s one of life’s best things. They can buy you almost anything and they look good on you. I mean, me, but you would look good with some of my jewels on you as well…”

Pensive for a moment, Buggy suddenly takes off one of his emerald earrings and holds it against Faye’s outfit.

“See, I was right. Would you like to have these?”

The moment his arm wrapped around her shoulder, Faye noticed something odd. For such a large body, the pressure of his arm felt light in comparison, more suitable for a man closer to her size. The red fabric draped around her shoulder like an oversized blanket. Her lips parted briefly as though she were going to comment on it, closed, then opened again.

"So, it's a guarantee we won't be disturbed." It was stated rather than questioned. Leaning into his arm, Faye interlaced her fingers with his, sliding her thumb over the top of his hand. "Is it bad that a part of me is a little disappointed there's not a chance of someone seein' somethin' a bit scandalous?"

Listening, Faye already stored the information in the back of her mind. If treasure was what he wanted, then treasure she could get him.

"Oh?" She asked, not expecting him to remove his own to offer her. Eyes wide as full moons, she stared at the glistening emeralds. As beautiful as they were, even her favorite shade of green, she couldn't accept the offering.

Nauseating memories of being adorned in gems that glittered like a million suns reflecting off the ocean's surface bubbled up from the depths of her mind. Most had come from the filthy-minded criminals or decrepit elites who made uncomfortable comments about her appearance long before she was of age. She'd been dressed up in those expensive gems and forced to dance on the strings her father pulled from the shadows, a pretty puppet to be used for his own gain.

Bitterness coated the back of her tongue, despite her belief that Buggy would not use her in that way. Only time would tell if that were true.

"I couldn't." Releasing her grip on the hand around her shoulders, she then curled it around his open hand to close it. "As gorgeous as those are, I'd be a rather bad employee takin' the boss's stuff. Besides, I tend to be the giftgiver. I'm more than satisfied just spending time with you."

#fellapart #v. one piece

How peculiar, he was unaccustomed to this; no one had ever awakened from his attempts to put them to sleep. Given the chance, he would have loved to pin her down and discover what made her so extraordinary. Was it a devil fruit, or perhaps an ability he had yet to witness? But time was not on his side. He had to leave this island, and the sooner, the better. If it weren't for her, he would have already departed; she was a hindrance. Yet, it was uncommon for him to encounter someone so captivating in these lands, making the delay worthwhile to acquire a new slave for himself. Rude, feisty, and peculiar as she was, a slave was a slave, and she was now his.

"Stay still."

He remarked as he hoisted her onto his shoulder, allowing her oddly shaped tail to dangle down. He had every right to end her life right then and there; she had broken the law multiple times. She had spoken back to him, touched him, and even grabbed him, each act a death sentence she had no power to contest. That was the nature of the world. As he yawned, his golden eyes half-closed, he found himself on the verge of dozing off again. He needed a marine ship to come and retrieve him; he was now too exhausted and lethargic to fly back to the holy lands. A ship, preferably a warship, would be far more appropriate for him and his cargo.

"You don’t enjoy dreaming or being in a deep slumber, but that’s precisely why I want you?"

He craved her dreams; more specifically, he yearned for her nightmares, those haunting fears that gripped her tightly, leaving her powerless to escape. Whatever terrified her, he had witnessed it firsthand, and it would serve as the perfect new creation for him to wield against the innocent or his foes. Her nightmares would transform into potent weapons for his use, indeed very effective weapons. He was in dire need of slaves, having lost all of his during the last grand hunt and games; they had foolishly met their demise, and he had lost the hunt as a result. He was determined not to suffer the same fate again, but he required more slaves to present, and she would be his first acquisition. He was confident he could capture more peasants like her in the months ahead.

"I am quite fatigued, and it would be unwise to eliminate my own slave when you hold no value at the moment," he muttered. Killing her, even inadvertently, would only hinder his plans. He needed a dozen or so slaves; for now, he had her. He was certain that once he returned to the holy lands, he could procure the rest at auction. He sought a good mix of low and high scoring points. If he was correct about her, and he rarely missed when it came to selecting slaves, she would be worth at least double points on her own, a splendid offering for the next hunt.

"Hm." His tail swayed back and forth as she attempted to engage him in conversation, his gaze shifting to her as she sat there. "I am special, indeed," he replied, nodding lazily, a yawn escaping him once more. She pointed out the resin bubble adorning his head, a common sight among lower-rank World Nobles; however, his was distinct from those worn by ordinary Celestial Dragons, as it was equipped with a respirator at the front featuring two disk filters through which he breathed through. "I am a world noble," he affirmed, as if she were unaware of his status given his appearance and the resin bubble he wore. Unlike the others, he was not a mere lowly Celestial Dragon; he was something far greater.

"I am a knight of God, serving the great one, and now you serve me."

Faye settled at his command, still studying his face, finding it increasingly more difficult to read his eyes. His glassy gaze a frosted window, preventing her from seeing just what she'd gotten herself into. However, she did get the sense of something dark and dangerous lurking just out of view; a predator stalking its prey from the shadows of thick trees. She had been like a predator in her own world and was now faced with the apex. Only for a moment did a tinge of fear flavor the back of her tongue. A dangerous hunger that made her want to bare her own fangs rose in her. While no match for him, she would meet whatever he had head-on.

"It's not that I don't enjoy dreamin' or sleepin'. I've just always functioned better with four or five hours of sleep instead of the eight. I've also gotten good at lucid dreamin', which makes wakin' up from nightmares easier." In her youth, she'd been plagued so horrendously with paralyzing night terrors that she'd done her own research to find a way to combat them. There were still times she couldn't wake, unable to convince herself it was a dream, but those became fewer as she aged.

"If terrors are what you want, I ensure the twisted stuff that's haunted me will prove useful. It's never the same."

At this, she fell silent. They would evolve over time, considerably so as she witnessed firsthand the lives of slaves of Celestial Dragons. Looking ahead at the dark horizon, she parted her lips to sigh as he commented on her value. Property. She was his property now. Like hell she'd be considered of no value. Her fists clenched in the pockets of her jacket, her gaze remaining fixed where the sky kissed the earth.

Only when he revealed who he was did she snap her head to look at him, eyes as large as the flawless buttons on his coat. Knight of God? The Great One? She'd never heard about either.

"You're sayin' Celestial Dragons have a leader? Besides the five elders or whatever? I thought most of the houses were on pretty even grounds." Who could hold power over the elders and world nobles? It couldn't actually be a god. Could it? Her body practically buzzed, ears burning as she leaned closer to him.

fellapart

Buggy perks up at her last words. He’s learned – way before he became Emperor – to never take anyone’s words at face value, but the fact that Faye chose such words was already telling. So she wants to be on his good side. Not because she’s afraid, but because she’s lonely here. Buggy shudders inwardly at the thought of Faye getting a glimpse of how much he understands her right now.

“You have my full attention now,” he smiles, and he’s not lying. Even a distantly polite affection like Faye’s is god-given in this cursed place.

He’s not one to laugh. Not even on his best days, he’s not much of a laughing man. Yes, the irony is vast and bitter.

“People aren’t very friendly here, it’s true,” he says, spreading his hands on the back of the sofa as wide as the fabric of his suit allows, making himself a gigantic red sail. “But you probably know how it is for former Impel Down inmates. Life’s been hard on them, and they had to harden in response. But surely you must have something to compare this place to?”

Buggy wonders what sort of life a woman like Faye must have had. Not easy, that much is clear. But what else? How many adventures has she had? How many lovers? How many have disappointed her?

Betrayal is something Buggy feels she’s intimately familiar with, and questions himself if he should let her know he knows too. That he won’t betray her should she trust him with her heart.

“I think we should look at the positives.”

With unwarranted confidence, she rose to her feet and switched couches, taking up the unoccupied space next to him. If he was going to give her his full attention, then she'd do the same and then some. A lightness had surrounded them and she craved a heaviness, different than the one that had lingered over them like the greenish-bruise shade of tornado clouds. She wanted a hurricane. She wanted the intensifying static in the air, wild waves crashing against the shores, and the unstoppable winds.

She wanted to be the storm.

"Treated like animals and some still act like it," Faye replied with a curt nod. More than once, she had been forced to make it clear that, despite her appearance and small stature, she was not one to be trifled with. Thankfully, her position as the spymaster kept most from testing their luck. Shifting her hips, she tucked an ankle under her, propped her head up with her hand on the back of the couch, and stared up at him.

"The positives, hmm? Easy. We met each other and can meet like this without bein' disturbed. Well, unless it's somethin' important. Though, I can't imagine too much will be goin' on."

How close could she get to him? Able to rest her hand on his? Sitting on his lap like some prized pooch? She hadn't come in with intentions to be coy, but with the ease of talking with him came a primal desire.

#fellapart #v. one piece

Sway, sway, sway. He swayed her back and forth, gripping her by her feet with one hand, carrying her as if she were a trivial item, like shopping bags that hold little value, while he walked forward, feeling a slight movement. "Huh." His eyes darted to the side just as her head turned to glance down at his hand; was she awake? Already? Tilting his head, a simple task thanks to his long, thick neck connecting his head to his body, he hadn’t anticipated her waking up so soon, not at all.

"Hm?"

As he sensed something, her tail? She had a tail, which he had overlooked; the downside of inspecting someone while half-asleep. He felt her tail wrapping around his arm, and though he was tempted to shake her off, he knew that a fall from this height could injure her. A slave was still a slave, but an injured slave was of no use, and he hadn’t traveled all this way for mere scraps that held no worth. He expected and demanded the best for himself. With a huff, he lifted his arm higher and higher before placing her on his shoulder, shaking her free for a moment until she landed softly with a little thud, perching there as his thumb and index finger pinched her tail.

"Fascinating." He remarked as he released it, allowing it to drift behind her while he focused ahead. "Spirited, very spirited." He continued, a slave with a strong will posed a significant challenge for others, but for him, relaxed, drowsy, and nearly dozing off while walking, he chose to overlook it, at least for the moment. There was another aspect to him, a side that would not put up with anything she had said or done and would rather eliminate her than tolerate her antics, but for now, he was merely a sleepy dragon, yearning to return to his estate, curl up in bed, and indulge in a long, satisfying sleep; he had certainly earned it after all he had endured.

"Cozy." He yawned, his eyes nearly shut, yet he continued to walk for the time being, taking long strides and covering considerable distance, his head now lowered to her shoulder level, eyes glancing sideways, his ears twitching as he picked up on her breathing, the rhythm of her heartbeat, and even a sniffle from within the bubble surrounding his head. He sensed and felt that she was more formidable than she appeared, but the idea of her being anywhere near his level of power was laughable; he was one of the chosen, among the strongest, one of the finest the world had to offer, and as her master, it was absurd to think a slave could pose a threat to him.

"We have quite a journey ahead; it would have been simpler if you just slept, to transport you. Let me put you out again."

His grip remained firm, even as her small fingers slipped between his to pull. She managed two tugs before he was raising her, lifting her higher. He was going to throw her down. Toss her in a fit of disgust as if she were a cockroach that'd crawled onto his hand while reaching for an apple from a fruit bowl. It was okay for the World Nobles to touch their possessions, but if one were to touch them without permission, it was a death sentence. At least, that was what she imagined would play out, her grip tightening to hold on until she was certain she could catch herself.

As unusual as his appearance was, his reaction was even more so. Instead of flinging her to the earth and curbstomping her head for touching him with her filthy commoner hands, he brought her to his shoulder. Bewildered, she maneuvered herself into a comfortable position on his epaulette. His fingers did capture her thin tail as she was unwinding it from him, the red spade tip twitching as she tried to wriggle it free.

Faye shifted again; the cloud boa that swirled around his shoulders and neck continuously flowed into her face until she finally waved her hands. As the sections thinned and reconnected, it billowed around the outside of her, ushering her closer to him.

The high collar of his coat provided a comfortable barrier. Though, the mane engulfing his neck in flowing plumes as the wind streamed through it like a river of gold drew her attention. It looked like it’d be soft like silk. Only a hint of the sweat and earth they’d been lying in some time ago lingered on him, whatever cologne he may have wore fighting to overpower it. Digging her hands deep into the pocket of her pants, she picked at the hem within to keep her ceaseless curiosity from getting the best of her.

"No, no, no. I'd rather you didn't, if you don't mind." Faye waved her hand dismissively in the air. Unlike the majority, and clearly him, she required only a few hours of sleep a day to be fully energized — six at most if she was exhausted. The slumber he'd put her in had been too much; a grogginess that pulled at her shoulders crept upon her now that her spike of adrenaline dwindled. Besides, she wanted to enjoy the sweet melody of the night, crickets and frogs singing love songs to their potential mates; even the heads of wheat, brushing against one another, sounded different at this hour. Simpler and secretive.

“Besides, if you end up passin’ out you’re likely to crush me if we’re both asleep.” Faye grinned wide enough her elongated canines glinted in the dimming light. “So are ya a special class of Celestial Dragon or what? You’re not wearin’ the silly garb they usually have on, but ya got the bubble.” She continued staring at him, sharp eyes following the bend of his long to the backward facing horn that protrude from his head, bushy brows, and the equally inquisitive eyes that met hers.

vvindicated

first a light snort at her smiling retort of bears and boars; he'd already had the displeasure of fending one or two off while sober. the idea of doing it tipsy wasn't as appealing to him, but to each their own. the conversation flowed and eris nodded along when faye agreed that tenacity was to be expected in those that gave chase. a statement that was surely broad enough to cover their talk of wolves & things beyond.

she turned the topic over to him and he managed a wry smile. the questions weren't especially shocking. it had only been a matter of time before she'd asked him how he'd come to acquire this strange plethora of knowledge.

"not everything." he answered tepidly. he would've liked to know more, honestly; but that unquenchable quality of his was the very thing that had gotten him to this odd crossroads he stood at today. knowing too much to turn away, but still not having a full enough picture to really take matters into his own hands and wrangle fate's divine neck like he wished to. a little shrug of one shoulder. one of the other patrons at the bar called for him to refill their drink, but he cooly brushed them off.

"a mix of both, probably. it's not like i set out to get involved in all the muck of this shitehole, but it's hard not to step in it when it's all over the bloody place." the same patron groused at the end of the bar, calling for eris once more. he got a beer out and tossed it at the guy, who fumbled to catch it; it clearly hadn't been what they wanted, but eris met the statement with a dismissive "you wanna come back here and make yourself a drink?" punctuated with a raised brow and a dangerous look in his red eyes. the guy seemed to want to argue further, but quickly decided it wasn't worth it.

"town's fulla shit, and i don't mind tellin' you about it all, but we might wanna focus on the current problem first." we, he said. at the very least, even if he was only acquaintances with faye, he had enough of a sense of comradery with her that he was willing to help her escape the fast approaching maws of her own miserable fate. "you got 'til the end of the week, yeah..? s'plenty of time to figure something out." he gestured with one hand, the other arm folded over his chest, and offered her a small smile.

#vvindicated #v. werewolf #i love Eris #hes already fantastic

Watching the patron from the corner of her eye, a small, taunting smirk etched across her face when his smug expression dropped. Before he could catch her sneering, Faye looked at Eris, beyond thankful to have met them. It wasn't uncommon for bartenders to be therapists for their buzzed and drunken clients, but there was an air of safety and true understanding with him. She only hoped she wouldn't annoy him by the end of the night.

"Shame if all this shit goes through, I may not get a chance to slip into the city often and get into trouble with you." Setting her head on her hand, she watched the spectacle unfold. The bottle sailed through the air with an admirable accuracy that a basketball recruiter would've gone crazy over. Had the man not been so uncoordinated, he might not have made such a huge fool of himself. The man to the left of the nuisance glanced between Eris and the man twice before burying his nose in his own glass.

The we didn't go unnoticed, the knot in her abdomen loosening if only a little. She wouldn't be alone in this, at least not for a little bit. If they did find a way out of this, she'd owe more than just her life to her new friend.

"Right...not the best at stayin' focused," she laughed. "Don't suppose I could get some water. If I'm gonna attempt to offer any reasonable ideas, I should probably sober up a bit." The ice in her glass clinked softly. While not done with her drink, it'd last her the rest of the night. From the corner of her eye, she could see the same man who had pestered Eris, muttering something to his friend, fists flexing on the counter.

"I'd say murder is always on the table, but I'll be honest...killin' my father won't be easy. That'll have to be a last resort. Maybe figure out what else the wolves might like instead that could still create an alliance."

Yawn. He had indeed slept, drifting off into slumber, only to stir awake, one eye fluttering open, the golden orb of his gaze rolling around before the other eye followed suit, momentarily. Another small yawn escaped his lips, his jaw opening wide before snapping shut again. As his eyes scanned the darkness, he realised he had slept through the entire day. He shuffled, his neck dragging along the ground, over the woman he had been resting on, his head being pulled along with it. Slowly, he began to lift himself lazily to a standing position.

PURURURURU! PURURURURU! PURURURURU!

His gaze dropped to his pocket, which was vibrating, no, ringing. His Den Den Mushi was calling. He slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved the small device, cradling it in his palm as he stared down at it, his neck curling forward, his head lowering to meet it. He recognised the bearded face with sunglasses on the screen; there was only one person who would dare call him at this hour, and since he was alone, he knew his partner in crime had already left.

Sommers: "Are you awake? You were in a deep sleep!" Killingham: "You just abandoned me here, once again." Sommers: "I wanted to head back for a bath, and you found a slave or something?" Killingham: "I guess I did."

As he gazed down at the sleeping woman, he leaned over, grasped her by her feet, and hoisted her up, holding her upside down. He studied her peaceful face, the drool pooling at the corner of her mouth, the sleep bubble forming at her nose; she was in a profound, deep slumber, all thanks to him.

Sommers: "Are you marrying her?" Killingham: "No." Sommers: "Huh! Then what is special about her!" Killingham: "You killed all my slaves during the last hunt to gain points." Sommers: "...." Killingham: "Besides that, I suspect there’s something off about her."

He remarks as he gives her a gentle shake, up and down, up and down, while gazing at her, stretching his long neck and tilting his head to align with her body, observing her lazily, sound asleep, lost in dreams, not plagued by nightmares because of him, as he shut his eyes and exhaled through his snout, this one had such terrors.

Sommers: "You better return here immediately; it’s dull without you." Killingham: "I’m on my way, I’m on my way." Sommers: "Should I call in a buster call to handle things there?" Killingham: "No, I’ll let my MMA’s manage it, don’t destroy this island while I’m here."

As he pressed the button to end the call with Sommers, he held the woman upside down and moved forward, his nightmare creatures would obliterate any trace of his presence, but this woman, she had such dreadful, dreadful nightmares, the horrors within her would be incredibly useful to him, to conjure more terrors and fearsome beasts to slaughter the innocent and execute anyone who dares to oppose the world nobles as he swung her back and forth by her feet and began to walk away, ugh, he was going to have to trek back to the holy lands with his burden.

Her terrors did not wane as slumber pulled her ever deeper. Attempts to will herself awake proved futile, leaving her to wonder if this was a dream or not. Hushed whispers she desperately tried to block out bubbled up from beneath her feet as she strained against the invisible shackles. Joints felt as though they were bound to pop from their sockets as she pulled and her airway closed off. Still, she did not give in. The searing heat behind her scorched her back, too hot to be a normal fire. If this wasn't a dream, she would not go down without a fight, even as the whispers became the thunderous bangs of war drums.

Not good enough.

Useless.

A disappointment.

Lies. They were wrong. All of them. She'd show them. Heat had engulfed her, flames igniting on the hems of her clothes, and a large, clawed hand started to descend from above. The closer it got, the more the fingers shifted into the jointed appendages of colossal orange and yellow spider legs that bent in bone-snapping cracks to wrap around her. With them closing in around her, she pulled even harder, digging her hooves into the pool of orange that grew brighter by the second. Pain coursed through every part of her; skin blistering, bone-cracking agony that she fought against until a loud bang echoed around her.

Jolting awake, she inhaled deeply, her eyes darting around in wild motions through half-open lids. The world was blurred, things refusing to focus. She gave a soft groan, reaching out to find the ground and push herself up. wheat. There was nothing except long stalks of wheat caressing her in loving farewells. Occasionally, long, lanky legs passed back and forth in front of her vision. Reaching her arms over the top of her head, the tips of her fingers brushed the earth as it passed by.

"S..goin' on?" Her head ached, face flushed from dangling upside down for some time. Slowly, things painted themselves in a way she could understand. "Are you carryin' me like a damn game animal?" Looking down the length of her body, she saw where he held her by the ankles. While he could have simply dragged her on the ground, she no longer wished to be carried in this manner. Wrapping her tail around his wrist, a precaution for having enough time to right herself before falling to the ground, she curled up to his hand and pulled at his fingers.

"Let go!"

#punchedharder #hello!#thanks for sending this in!#we could Emily's fantasy or supernatural verse #or even hellboy if you'd like!#also lmk if I need to change anything

@punchedharder said: ❝ what’s the one thing you want out of your life? ❞

"Out of everythin' you could have asked me, that's not where I thought we'd start." As she turned to look at Emily, a lopsided smirk spread across her face. It'd be all too easy to lie and say something along the lines of leaving her mark on the world, accomplishing something no one else has, becoming famous, or making enough money where she'd never have to work a day in her life. However, they all rang hollow like yelling into a chasm and never once hearing an echo.

"I want to feel like I'm good enough. Not for anyone except myself. I know I can be good enough for others. I want to convince myself that I am worthy to live. What about you?"

s0u1c0de

Her attempt to reassure him that she had no intentions of taking him back meant little to Tynan without proof that she wasn't associated with the same cult he'd escaped. His step brother was a crafty son of a bitch and he couldn't trust that this wasn't a trick of some kind. Though, he had to admit, coming right out and mentioning the cult was a stupid way of trying to trick him and wasn't nearly as clever as he would expect.

Trying to figure out the angle was pretty much the only thing keeping Tynan rooted to the spot as Faye continued to disregard cults as boring. He wasn't sure he'd use that descriptor for them, but they certainly weren't anything positive either. But it was her next words that really got his attention.

He let out a laugh out of sheer disbelief. "A what? You expect me to believe that? What is this, some kind of sick joke?" He shook his head. "Demons and angels aren't real. Anyone who says otherwise is trying to sell something." Never mind his own experiences with some kind of dark entity following him. He pretended that didn't exist either.

Deciding he would cut to the chase, he went ahead and asked her outright. "What is it that you want from me? Tell the truth, because if you managed to find out I was in that cult, you'll also know that I know exactly what it feels like to be lied to and used for someone else's gain, and I'll know if you're trying to deceive me."

#s0u1c0de #v. supernatural

Herding a group of agitated wet cats would've been easier than preventing the smile that crept across his face. His disbelief had not been unaccounted for. Most sane individuals didn't believe in the truth of demons and angels, at least not walking around the mortal plane with them. It was the crazies that loved to point fingers; demons made me kill them or an angel told me I had to kill them for salvation. Yada, yada. Always the same. However, in this case, it was a demon in control.

"What if I could prove to you that they're real?" She asked, carefully watching Tynan. He wasn't an idiot by any means and had liked started formulating a plan of escape or had already created one and was simply buying time at this point. Time was of the essence if she didn't want to go chasing him down the halls and streets. Losing sight of him was out of the question.

"I've told you already that your cult has a genuine demon pullin' the strings. If he gets what he wants, then there's gonna be a large imbalance in what you people call hell. This is bad because not only does it throw off our order, but it could become a real problem for this plane." Of course, she also had a grudge against the bastard and wanted to see him fail. "You know your cult better than anyone else. I need ins and outs and someone who'd love nothin' more than to see it squashed. It's a win-win really."

Stagger, stagger, stagger. He found himself gently swaying back and forth, utterly exhausted, yearning for slumber more than anything else in the world. Why could he not simply drift off to sleep and be transported to another place? Why did he have to be here, of all locations? Why was he the one engaged in this task when he could be indulging in something far more enjoyable and captivating, like lying down and letting the hours slip away in peaceful sleep? Yet, here he was, in the presence of this peculiar woman before him.

“Faye …”

He let the name roll off his tongue, peculiar and something he was certain he would have remembered. Surely, he would have recalled if someone had a slave like her among their ranks. She was indeed a curious little creature, as he lowered his neck, keeping his head aligned with hers. “You own yourself?” A rather amusing way to assert that she was not a slave and had no master. Why did people always feel the need to dance around such matters? It was exceedingly tiresome to navigate, yet he needed to ascertain the truth.

His hand descended, grasping her collar as he lifted her, bending his legs slightly to rise to his full stature. His neck extended as he stood tall, towering over most, raising her from the ground into the air, where she dangled, swaying gently as he scrutinized her. He allowed her to twirl momentarily in his firm grip, observing that there was no collar, no marks, no branding, and no tattoo from the slave markets upon her. She was indeed a free individual, but alas, not for long; he would claim her as his own slave now.

"I assert my claim over you," he murmured softly, exhaling gently through his snout. She was peculiar, yet undeniably unique; he could sense it as she probed for information, believing he would divulge it effortlessly. He stifled a yawn before lifting his other hand. "Rest," he commanded, gently prodding her forehead, sending her into a profound and serene slumber. As he swayed and rocked back and forth, he let her down onto the ground with a soft thud.

Before he himself succumbed to sleep atop her, his head met the ground with a resounding thud. "Ouch," he grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut. His robust neck curled protectively around her, his torso draped over her, while his knees pressed into the earth to prevent her from being crushed beneath his weight.

He too drifted into slumber, having put her to sleep, yet he was equally exhausted. So very weary all the time, he simply craved a brief respite. His companion would depart without him, which meant upon awakening, he would face the lengthy journey home. He could not teleport himself and a mere slave; unmarked filth was unworthy of such an honor. He would have to escort her home the long way. Ugh, sleep was far more appealing than contemplating that.

There was barely a chance to respond to him before his hand shot out to grab her. Caught off guard by the speed of someone who presented himself as eternally sleepy, Faye had to swallow her remark. Instinctively, she wrapped her hands around his hand as he hoisted her from the ground. Not because his grip was suffocating, but because she was lifted over twice her height for him to investigate. The urge to kick, bite, squirm, and wriggle out of the jacket he had a firm grasp on was barely overshadowed by her need to remain on his good side. Not knowing the full extent of his powers would be a certain death sentence, and her docile, compliant game a complete waste.

"Hey," she grunted as she was ragdolled during his scrutiny, "if you're gonna manhandle me like this, after I said no one else owned me, at least buy me a drink or somethin'." Tingles of fear crept along her flesh when he finished, eyes not reflecting a single emotion she could read. A chill followed when he declared his claim of her despite her anticipating it and even betting on it. What better way for her to safely infiltrate Mary Geoise and observe the Celestial Dragons and their lives?

What she hadn't expected was his him to put her to sleep. The moment his large hand hovered over her head she felt the dregs of sleep grip her. Once wide awake, her arms dropped listlessly to her sides and her fluttering lids became leaden weights that plunged her into darkness.

It closed in on her, a black abyss devoid of everything, heat and colored siphoned as she continued to fall. Attempts to yell were deafened as the impenetrable darkness swallowed her voice as well. No longer could she tell up from down, left from right. Her body writhed wildly in its endless spiral to find some kind of purchase. She was dying, suffocating, her breaths pulling into the top of her throat before becoming trapped while her body grew more rigid. Terror restrained her long enough for her skin to crawl — no, for small invisible legs to skitter along her skin.

Again she tried screaming, the rapid beating of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears overshadowing it this time. Heat started to lick at her back, orange, flickering light that burned away the void. The gaze of an all too familiar loathing pierced through her like a hail of arrows. Her eyes burned as her pleas for help morphed into childish whimpers. She didn't have to turn her head to know who it belonged to. Blood red skin, blue eyes that'd make a glacier feel warm, and large horns, same color as hers, that curved back from his forehead.

Hell. This was hell.

requieminblue

@audaciious Continued from here

Even agents like her would have their usefulness come to an end eventually. If her father was there to see things for himself, the informant would already be dead and forgotten by that moment. Such was the absolute rule of Judge Vinsmoke.

But luckily, his daughter didn't share the same visions. Reiju did not hesitate to get close and personal, sniffling over the tiny little opening on Faye's wrist. "Mmm... Belladonna...a classic. I didn't think I'd ever come across such a variety in the Grand Line...usually it's a North Blue delicacy.."

The potent mixture of Belladonna along with her fear served only to leave a smile on Reiju's lips. "I am afraid that this isn't your typical toxin..." She said, rubbing the spot gently with her thumb. "Several nervous system disruptions. Anxiety...confusion...hallucinations and a sense of impending doom, before death. And the best part?"

Her lips made contact, a light brush...like a cheeky little taste a child gets from a chocolate cake with their finger. "....There is no antidote."

#requieminblue #v. one piece #well shes doing a damn good job of it #Idk if the poison or Reiju gonna kill her first

She felt faint, not because of the poison still working its way through her body, but because of Reiju. If this was her last few moments, then who was she to complain? She was beautiful, no doubt about it, and her closeness was more than Faye deserved in a time like this. She'd been too cheeky and careless, allowing her opponent to get a hit on her while trying to prove herself to the Vinsmoke.

"Nothin' is ever that easy, is it?" The words slipped out before Reiju began rubbing the cut. Warmth radiated from the spot and Faye wasn't certain if it was from the sprouting inflammation or the other woman's touch. She stared down at it, unable to bring herself to look anywhere else. Her vision was becoming more blurred by the second, large beads of sweat wetting the hair on the back of her neck.

"Wait...." Her thrumming heart nearly burst through its bony cage at the softness of her lips. No antidote made sense, the brush of her lips didn't. She knew Reiju had an interest in poisons, but to what extent, Faye didn't know. Her mind had to be conjuring the peculiar sensations, a last-ditch effort to make her passing easier. It was the only thing that made sense as her freckled cheeks flushed.

A small yawn escaped him, his eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment, making it increasingly difficult to keep them open. He understood the necessity of his orders; after all, that was how the world functioned. His presence here indicated the seriousness of the situation that warranted his dispatch. Yet, he found himself swaying back and forth on his heels, arms bent at the elbows and hands pressed down in front of him, creating a comical image as his limbs seemed mismatched to his body. With a long neck and an oddly shaped head, he resembled a human with a dragon's head attached. Eventually, he huffed out a breath, his eyes now half-closed as sleep overtook him.

"No, I guess it wouldn’t matter." As he staggered forward, his boots crunched against the ground, making a splashy sound as he trudged through the puddles of blood surrounding him. Despite the carnage, there was no evidence of a struggle; he had fought, yet he was unarmed at the moment, and everyone around him lay dead. Naturally, he was responsible for their demise, having summoned the creatures that executed the deed under his command. As his drowsy gaze wandered, he noticed his partner in crime enjoying his own amusement. It was best to let him be and refrain from calling him over, or else the situation could spiral out of control.

"Their own, nightmares killed them." As he staggered once more and stood directly in front of her, he loomed over her, primarily due to the length of his neck. His head dipped down to meet her gaze, his drowsy eyes locking onto hers for a fleeting moment. His muzzle opened wide as he yawned, his tongue hanging out briefly while he breathed through his bubble, then he shut his eyes. "Zzzzzzzzzzz." He had dozed off, standing right in front of her, his whole body slumping as fatigue overwhelmed him. All he desired was to lie down on a soft cloud and enjoy a long, restful sleep. He despised being assigned such trivial low-level missions; an admiral could have handled this task, he was far too significant for such duties.

"Huh!" He jolted awake just as swiftly, his bright yellow tail fluttering behind him and flicking as he shook his head from side to side, rousing himself. "Who are you..." He mumbled, stretching his arm and poking her chest repeatedly. She was... peculiar. He hadn't anticipated encountering pirates here, but she didn't seem like one, at least not from what he could discern. A slave? No collar or markings were visible, perhaps she was an escaped slave? He was uncertain, filled with questions, yet he found himself drifting back to sleep right before her, his arm falling back to his side as he yawned once more.

“Who owns you?”

If she were to guess, she might have been spared for the simple fact that he looked like he was about to keel over. Pure boredom or fatigue pulling on his lids and gravity working with the wind would bring him crashing down, given how far he teetered on his heels. Digging her red hooves into the blood-painted ground, she braced herself to catch him when he inevitably toppled toward her. However, even as he stumbled forward, he remained upright. Every part of her ignited like a wildfire when he stopped before her, the immense dark Haki rolling off him had a hair-raising effect. Escape was ideal; the alarms in her head blared that this was a situation she needed to flee from immediately. Whatever or whoever he was outclassed her in every possible way.

And yet, she remained planted to the spot. Their own nightmares. Her curiosity deafened her to every warning that flashed in her mind. It had to be a devil fruit power and the idea of manifesting nightmares, possibly even dreams too, was too fascinating to not inquire further about. How did he pull the nightmare manifestations from his victims? Did he have full control or did they only attack the mind they came from? A sea of questions drowned the fight-or-flight section of her brain to the point she didn't avert her eyes when he lowered his head to hers — a certain death sentence were he a Celestial Dragon.

“What—“ The rest of her question fell silently to eventually be soaked up with the remaining blood. “Hello?” Her voice was soft as she lifted her hands to hover just below the sleeping man’s head. She took this brief lapse to take in his peculiar appearance; especially the draconic head. His singular horn conjuring thoughts of a unicorn, but his bright yellow mane wasn’t fur or hair, it appeared more like smoke. There was a similar creature she’d seen in mythology books, however, its name escaped her. Just as she was shifting to get a look from a different angle he jolted awake. Faye took a step back, fighting every urge to flinch as his finger managed to find the most sensitive spot to prod. She settled with squinting one of her eyes for each deliberate poke.

“Faye.” There was no use lying. She would likely be viewed as a fly in his soup either way and honesty may give her a singular kudo. Rubbing the tender spot on her chest, she watched his eyes droop again. His next question had given her pause. Being someone else’s slave may save her from death, but may also warrant it dare she offend him enough. And if she told another truth? Killed for sport and because he was bored or taken as a slave. Best case and most unlikely, left to scurry off.

“No one but myself.” While she’d prefer to keep it that way, an opportunity such as this didn’t come along often. If she played her cards right, she may be able to uncover knowledge other agents couldn’t dream of acquiring. Of course, she had to hope his lethargy would keep him docile enough allow her to question him as if he were under an interrogation. Words would have to be carefully chosen and sentences crafted with an elegance she hadn’t practiced since under her father’s rule.

vvindicated

power and allies... it was a strange thing to consider, there being a whole network of wolves (werewolves at that) across the country. across the continent and further still to the reaches of other global domains, probably. it was too big a scope for eris to worry about, so he didn't what mattered at that very moment was his small slice of the world and the woman anxiously downing alcohol sat across from him.

she may not have meant it when she asked for another drink (or five) but eris did push off of the counter and mix her something else. it was a mellow drink, less alcohol this time. something that would be pleasant to the taste buds but wouldn't necessarily inebriate her like she had hoped. tough luck.

"mhm." a confirmative hum. drawing from what he knew, the hierarchy of the dense forests outside town weren't as intricate as those within steel and concrete bounds, but it was still tense. perhaps not because of any natural order but certainly due to the corruption that seeped into the land. he'd be surprised if faye hadn't noticed it yet. again, he leaned against the counter - arms crossed over his chest.

"from what i've gathered, the woods are mostly their domain. you've got a few other things to worry about out there, but it's not as concentrated of a problem. a couple foxes, maybe a bear or boar - might try to run you off or have a bit of fun... but it's all one off things. the wolves, from what i've seen, are persistent." annoyingly so, but it had never been an issue for eris. he always managed to beat them back and left them a heap of battered fur. he was aware that he was a bit of an outlier though; maybe faye could've held her own, but the normal townie wasn't exactly thinking about fighting first. he pursed his lips.

"there's ah... dryads..?" he wasn't sure if that was what they actually were, but it was close enough. the words were accompanied with a wave of one hand, like he was throwing this information out as a mere afterthought. "dunno how they get along with the other forest an- inhabitants though." he nearly said animals, but caught himself. "only ever see one at a time. a bit cheeky, too." he faintly glowered at the memory of the plant people of the forest. either way, to answer faye's question - the wolves seemed to be top dog amongst the forest dwellers.