The One Piece

A collapsing chair?!

The marine commander grumbled. But despite the offense, that Rosinante definitely (did not) take to heart. His shoulders soon relaxed. The exhaustion slipping through the cracks. He hates to admit it but Leigh is painfully right. " As long as you don't mention this to Sengoku. Don't want him constantly on my ass as much as he already is considering what happened. " Rosinante leaned into the contact.

Leigh snorted under his breath, the sound warm with reluctant amusement as he worked another knot free. “Juggling identities is not a transferable skill. Plus, considering the state you were in twelve hours ago, I’m banning you from all activities involving sharp objects, heights, emotional decisions, or dramatic self-sacrifice,” he informed him dryly. His fingers separated another stubborn tangle before the brush followed through smoothly this time. “Actually, no. Especially dramatic self-sacrifice.” The joke landed exactly where Rosinante intended it to, though Leigh pretended otherwise. The marine's mouth flattened faintly because there were too many things he could say to that, and none of them belonged in a room that smelled faintly of antiseptic and seawater while Rosinante sat patched together by stubbornness alone. So instead, he focused on the easier target.

“You say that like Sengoku isn’t already spiritually hovering over your shoulder at all times,” Leigh muttered. “The man could probably sense you getting shot from three islands away.” He shifted slightly closer as Rosinante leaned back into him, instinctively steadying him with one hand against his shoulder. The contact settled there naturally now, unspoken and uncomplicated. “Your humiliating condition remains classified information. Mostly because I don’t think I could survive the lecture either.” The brush finally began moving freely through the blonde strands instead of fighting for its life. Leigh inspected his work with exaggerated scrutiny, tilting Rosinante’s head slightly one way, then the other like a dissatisfied mechanic evaluating structural damage.

“You’ve upgraded from a collapsing chair to an expensive chair with one broken leg.” His expression remained perfectly serious for all of three seconds before it cracked at the edges. “Maybe two broken legs on a humid day.” Another slower pass of the brush followed, gentler now that the worst of the tangles were gone. “Hair’s decent now, though. You officially look less like someone dragged out of a shipwreck.” The male's hand lingered briefly at the nape of Rosinante’s neck after setting the brush aside. Quietly, almost absentmindedly, Leigh rubbed his thumb once against his shoulder. “You know, you don’t actually have to keep proving you made the right choice,” he said after a moment, voice lower now, steadier. His gaze dropped slightly, not really looking at anything except the aftermath still stitched across Rosinante’s body. “The kid lived, and I would have done the same.”

so i got watching a ton of new tv shows lately, and it occurred to me that actually i do love it when characters are unexpectedly saved by someone who just happened to be exactly in the right place at precisely the correct moment, yk? and i failed to think of the right name, so the title of this list is entirely thanks to a very dear friend of mine who informed me! so here's a list, i hope you guys love it, DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OR EDIT IT!!! i like to edit them over time as new ideas come to me.

[ ALIBI ]: the sender provides a false alibi to protect the receiver from legal issues.

[ HAND ]: the sender suddenly arrives to grab the receiver's hand before they fall to their death

[ CAR ]: the sender arrives on scene as the impromptu getaway driver for the receiver (who hadn't been expecting it).

[ FATAL ]: the sender unwittingly arrives on scene when the receiver is being attacked, and to protect the receiver, they kill the assailant.

[ DISTRACT ]: the sender provides a diversion so the receiver can escape a dangerous situation.

[ OUT COLD ]: the sender knocks out an assailant before they can seriously wound the receiver.

[ DUNNO ]: the sender lies about the location of the receiver in order to protect them from pursuers.

[ FAKE ]: the sender, in a situation where they're forced to kill the receiver, only pretends to kill the receiver and takes their "dead" body away in the car.

[ SACRIFICE]: the sender sacrifices their life to ensure the receiver's survival.

[ BACK-UP ]: the sender arrives just in time to help the receiver in a fight.

[ EXCUSES ]: the sender provides an excuse for the receiver to stay at an event where they shouldn't be.

[ HIDDEN ]: the sender hides the receiver from pursuers.

[ SHELTER ]: the sender finds the unconscious receiver and brings them to a safe place.

[ HERO ]: the sender tackles the receiver out of the way of an attack.

[ RUN! ]: the sender tackles the attacker so the receiver can make a safe get-away.

[ FIGHT ]: the sender fights off the assailants so the receiver can flee to safety.

[ INTERCEPT ]: the sender unexpectedly emerges and stands between the receiver and a threat.

[ MISDIRECTION ]: the sender points a group of pursuers in the opposite direction to buy the receiver some time to hide.

[ SANCTUARY ]: the sender opens the door when the receiver knocks in search of help, and brings them into their home.

[ REPUTATION ]: the sender, being somewhat infamous in the area, arrives when the receiver is being hassled, causing the assailants to flee rather than risk the consequences of crossing them.

[ RECOGNIZE ]: the sender pretends to know the receiver in order to help them avoid unwanted attention.

[ AFAR ]: the sender incapacitates, distracts or kills an assailant from a distance to protect the receiver.

[ FRIENDS ]: the sender, unable to attend directly, sends friends over to protect the receiver when they encounter a threat.

[ NEGOTIATE ]: the sender intervenes in a tense situation and manages to smoothly persuade a potential threat to leave the receiver alone.

[ BRIBE ]: the sender gives a threat a significant amount of money to leave the receiver alone.

[ ANNOUNCE ]: the sender issues a declaration that the receiver is under their protection, assuring all potential attackers that any attempts will result in a brutal retaliation from them.

VERBAL PROMPTS:

" they're with me. "

" i was with them all night. "

" hey! these guys bothering you? "

" i wouldn't do that if i were you. "

" you must've really pissed those guys off, huh? "

" follow my lead... "

" don't worry. you're safe here. i won't let anyone hurt you. "

" you're lucky i found you when i did; those people were right down the street. "

" get in the car! now! "

" i'm gonna buy you as much time as i possibly can. make it count, okay? get out of here. now! "

" you can come out now. they're long gone. "

"A—a common rabbit, my lord, b-but if it displeases you—"

So he purchased it.

The cage swung with each leisurely step he took, the rhythmic creak of metal hinges nearly drowning out the vendor’s desperate thanks. He noticed its claws scraping against the floor of her confinement as she shifted her weight, ears flicking at the muffled sounds of the marketplace receding behind them. Through the bars, she glimpsed polished marble hallways, towering arches adorned with gold leaf, and slaves pressing themselves flat against the walls as he strode by. His boots echoed like a metronome counting down to something unavoidable. He hummed a tuneless melody that resonated through the cage bars. 

“You’re going to be my new favourite,” he declared, as if the rabbit had any choice in the matter. A door creaked open somewhere above her, and suddenly the atmosphere shifted, stale, perfumed, thick with the scent of preserved flowers and something metallic lurking beneath. The cage tilted precariously as he set it down with a thud on a polished ebony table. Then he crouched down, the sound of his leather gloves tightening around the cage bars drowned out the faint scratching of its claws against the metal.

The flickering torchlight danced across the respirator's shiny surface, distorting his silhouette into something grotesque on the far wall. Up close, it could see the beads of sweat forming along his hairline where the mask didn’t quite fit, human, after all. His breath hissed through the filter disks in slow, measured bursts, as if he were relishing the moment.

"Hm."

The cage door swung open with a click that resonated louder than it should have in the perfumed stillness of the room. His glove lingered on the latch, fingers curling like a spider testing its web. The air between them buzzed with something unspoken, a tension thicker than the formaldehyde-scented perfume clinging to the walls. He kept his gaze fixed on it. Gradually, he stepped back. The movement was intentional, almost theatrical, as if he were granting her space out of courtesy rather than caution. His orange coat flared around his boots, the fabric whispering against itself like a nest of snakes. 

"Go on," he murmured, the respirator warping his voice into something that straddled amusement and command. "I won’t chase you." His shadow stretched across the table, long and jagged in the flickering torchlight, engulfing half the room. He was eager to see what this creature would do.

Cosima remained frozen long after the cage door swung open. The small opening stared at her like the grin of something deceitful. Her body pressed so tightly into the corner that the metal bars dug into her side beneath layers of soft fur. She could feel every vibration traveling through the cage floor, the distant crackle of torchfire, the faint tremor of his boots against polished stone, the relentless hiss of breath filtered through metal. Rabbit ears caught too much. A rabbit’s heart felt too much. It thundered wildly inside her chest as the instinct to flee was unbearable. It clawed through her nerves with savage urgency, a primal command stripped of reason. Run. Hide. Escape the predator standing too close. Her muscles trembled beneath pale fur, coiled so tightly she feared they might snap, but Cosima no longer trusted instinct alone.

The towering man crouched beside the table, his silhouette warped by torchlight into something monstrous against the chamber walls. The polished respirator concealed his face, replacing human expression with gleaming lenses and mechanical breath. Yet his stillness unsettled her more than violence might have. Her whiskers twitched. The room beyond the bars assaulted her senses all at once. Heavy perfume clung to the air so thickly she nearly recoiled from it. Beneath floral sweetness lingered formaldehyde, medicinal sharpness, and the stale copper scent of old blood buried beneath attempts to disguise it. The rabbit's senses were cruelly sharp. Smells arrived layered and undeniable.

Her gaze drifted beyond him. Tall shelves loomed against shadowed walls, lined with glass containers clouded by strange liquids. Shapes floated within them, pale and distorted beneath warped reflections. She refused to focus long enough to understand what she saw. Crimson drapery swallowed the corners of the chamber while golden torchlight painted everything in feverish amber. No windows stood open. No easy escape. Only him. The cage no longer felt like confinement. It felt like the last familiar boundary between predator and prey. His voice filtered through the respirator. “Go on.” The rabbit part of her responded instinctively to tone before meaning, ears twitching despite herself. That body understood danger through cadence and movement rather than language. Yet her human mind lingered beneath instinct like a ghost trapped beneath water.

Slowly, she crept forward. Her paws shifted with agonizing caution against the cage floor. One step. Then another. Tiny claws scraped softly against metal, each sound painfully loud in her own ears. She kept low, ears flattened, nose moving ceaselessly as she tested the air. The opening stood inches away. Still, he did not move, and that restraint frightened her more than sudden motion would have. At the threshold, she paused. The world outside the cage seemed impossibly large. The polished ebony surface stretched before her like dark water, reflecting fractured torchlight beneath her paws. One misstep would leave her exposed entirely.

Her body urged retreat, but Cosima forced herself forward. The moment her paws touched the tabletop, cold raced through her limbs. She nearly darted back. The cage behind her remained open, painfully close, and she hated herself for glancing toward it as though longing for safety within prison walls. She moved only a few cautious steps from the opening before freezing again. Cosima felt suddenly exposed standing outside the cage. Not because he reached for her, he had not, but because she understood she was being studied. Her gaze darted toward the nearby desk. Papers were scattered carelessly across polished wood. Silver instruments gleamed beneath torchlight. Fine blades. Needles. Tools maintained with unsettling precision. Beside them sat flowers preserved beyond natural life, pale petals stiff and unmoving inside crystal vessels.

Then his gloved hand moved, and Cosima flinched violently. Her body flattened against the tabletop before thought could intervene, hind legs tensing to flee. But instead of seizing her, he merely placed something upon the ebony surface between them. A strawberry. Its sweet scent drifted toward her instantly, and the rabbit's body noticed it before she wished it to. Hunger stirred traitorously beneath fear. Her nose twitched despite herself. She remained frozen, staring not at the fruit but at him, small body trembling beneath torchlight.

Thank you!  I appreciate your feelings, at least!  They made me happy!  I was happy from the bottom of my heart!

(in)correct quotes / accepting!!

ੈ♡‧₊˚ @onepiecc

Leigh: How are you so calm?! Lilith: I’ve passed beyond “stressed”, beyond “hysteria”, into the gray misty indifference of complete shutdown of all but emergency services in my brain.

Leigh, at Lilith’s funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. *leaves* Leigh, leaning over Lilith’s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Lilith, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

He already knew who it was, given the lack of an announcement and even the courtesy of a knock. Most especially at this hour, modestly past midnight, because there was really only one person that was expecting him home.

Sasuke's eyes still did not greet her, even despite their strain or the fact he had to reread the same line three times now. Vivi was drastically on the mark, the Hokage had been pushing his circadian rhythm to its limits. But what she didn't realize was that paperwork or no paperwork, nights like these were the norm for him. The only thing that wasn't normal was having someone fuss at him over it. 

❝ Get out. ❞ He admonishes with a warning glare. 

There is well-meaning to her bold demands, maybe somewhere deep down he ought to acknowledge that – and yet, his nasty mood compelled him to resist any semblance of compassion she offered. His nightly afflictions were his burden and his alone, and as far as he was concerned she was attempting to take away his only means of distraction from it.

❝ Don't get too comfortable with your role, 'wife'. ❞ He emphasized that last bit with venom.

Hell's caverns pulsed with molten arteries beneath cracked obsidian, and every distant scream folded into the next until the sound became part of the air itself. Onuris walked through it with measured silence, the iron rings around his wrists clinking softly beneath his tattered sleeves. The chains had long since fused with flesh, as Mundus had made certain of that. The demon lord kept his hood low as they crossed a bridge made from the spine of some ancient titan. Below them, rivers of black fire twisted through the abyss. Above, the sky churned with living clouds that occasionally opened into gigantic watching eyes.

Mundus was always watching, and Onuris felt it like hooks beneath his skin. They continued deeper into the catacombs beneath Malebolge Fortress, where malformed statues lined the corridors. Women with split jaws, kings with hollow eyes, and angels nailed upside down by their wings. His eyes drifted toward one of the statues ahead, a woman carved from pale volcanic stone, her face cracked straight down the middle. One side was beautiful and the other monstrous. The words struck something ancient inside Onuris as he looked toward the statue, but he did not see stone.

Onuris’s jaw tightened beneath the shadows of his hood, and for several steps, he said nothing until he finally replied. “No, you see the cage in her eyes, not the devil,” he murmured. The shorter demon male lifted his gaze toward the fractured statue. “The devil is rarely in the eyes. It lives in the hands around the throat. In the voice that teaches monsters to kneel. In the fear that survives long after the chains are gone,” he continued as his clawed fingers curled unconsciously. The bridge beneath them shuddered as something colossal moved in the darkness below.

starting over - are you a little overwhelmed with where our thread is going? let me know, and i'd be happy to start a new one with you!

pausing - if you're feeling one thread more than another we have going on, that's perfectly fine! you're welcome to let me know if you'd like, but it's not a necessity.

multiples - if we have a ship that you love and you have many ideas for them, always feel welcome to throw them at me no matter what! while it may affect my reply speed due to having more, it doesn't affect my interest at all!

regrouping - maybe we initially had an idea that didn't pan out but you don't know how to say it? just shoot me a message and let me know you'd like to plot further/something else.

He glided through the air like water, smooth, unavoidable, positioning himself between Vivi and the approaching vampire before the desert wind could finish delivering the creature’s mockery. His coat billowed crimson against the moonlit sands, a vibrant streak in the otherwise colorless night. He didn’t unsheathe his sword. There was no need. The quietness of his posture served as a warning enough.

"This war is finished, you all know it, even in your triumph you will only worsen things, I have witnessed it, humanity will retaliate and you will face defeat, my father would never have desired this, there must be equilibrium between our realms, order amidst the chaos, you have gone too far."

He exhaled slowly, the breath carrying with it centuries of restraint. The aroma of rust and aged wine thickened in the air as the vampire descended toward them, a familiar odor, one he had encountered in decaying castles, in battles fought long before this queen’s ancestors had taken their first breaths. The creature’s lips twisted, exposing teeth that were too sharp, too white. He stared directly at it.

"I did not arrive here to end your life, I came to halt this insanity, do not compel my hand, you know my name, therefore you know who I am, your prince. You would never have dared to oppose my father while he was alive, thus according to our traditions and laws, opposing me is equivalent to opposing him, and my father would take your lives, I present to you the opportunity to depart from here.” 

The sand shifted under his boots, grains hissing like static electricity. He remained silent. There was no need to respond. The vampire's grin grew wider as it approached, close enough for Vivi's pulse to thrum loudly, audible even to human ears. He stood right in front of her.

"I did not come here to kill you."

As he shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible against the force of the desert wind. He had no desire to kill them, not tonight, not in this manner. He wanted them to depart. To disperse back into the dunes like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. How many times had he found himself in this position, caught between the insatiable night and those who still clung to the light of day? How many centuries had he spent seeking a delicate balance where neither side had to drown in the blood of the other?

Deep down he despised killing his own kind; they rarely left him with any options. He did not want to engage in battle, yet the weight of his sword felt unavoidable in his hand, like the slow descent of a pendulum reaching its lowest point. The vampire before him moved with the elegance of a predator, its crimson eyes sparkling with amusement, as if this were merely a dance they had practiced countless times before. His fingers tightened around the hilt, the leather creaking softly. He could already envision the course this would take: the feint to the left, the swift lunge that would be too quick for mortal eyes to follow, the dark blood spraying across the sand. Predictable. Always so predictable.

The words escaped his lips like frost settling on steel, cold, final, and brittle with the weight of ages. "Leave …” He commanded, and the desert wind whisked the order away before it could fully take shape. It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t even a warning. Just a statement of fact, as inevitable as the moon’s journey across the sky.

"Leave now, before I kill you all."

One moment, Alucard stood beside her; the next, he was in front of her entirely, crossing the distance with such impossible smoothness that her eyes struggled to follow it. There had been no burst of motion, no visible exertion. It was like watching a shadow change shape beneath candlelight, sudden and unnerving because it should not have been possible at all. His coat swept outward behind him as he landed in the sand, vivid against the pale desert like fresh blood spilled across bone, and the vampires stopped smiling. Vivi noticed the subtle shift immediately. The creatures lining the dunes no longer lounged with predatory amusement; their shoulders had tightened, and their eyes sharpened. Several took slow steps backward without seeming to realize they had done so. She stood several feet behind him now, close enough to hear the slow cadence of his breathing beneath the wind.

The human queen suddenly understood that what stood before the gathered vampires was not merely a hunter and not merely a wandering swordsman carrying centuries in his gaze. This was something they considered their superior, their prince. The word settled heavily into her thoughts as he spoke it aloud, and the vampires reacted instantly. Not openly, but Vivi caught every minute change now that she was watching for it. One of the figures near the ridge lowered their eyes instinctively before quickly correcting the motion. Another curled their fingers tightly enough that claws pierced their own palms. The leader’s smile faltered for the briefest fraction of a second, enough to confirm it was true.

The desert wind whipped harder through the dunes, carrying the scent of blood and old decay between them. Vivi could taste it now at the back of her throat. The tension spreading across the dunes felt worse than a battle. It reminded her of the moments before civil unrest exploded into violence, those terrible suspended breaths where everyone understood bloodshed was seconds away, yet no one wished to be the first to begin it.  Vivi watched the vampire leader carefully as Adrian spoke of balance, of humanity retaliating, of his father, and something changed in the creature’s expression at the mention of him. It was ancient bitterness sharpened by hunger and pride. The vampire laughed softly when Adrian called himself a prince. “Our prince?” the vampire repeated, amused. “You abandoned your throne centuries ago. Now you stand beside cattle.” Its crimson eyes slid lazily toward Vivi behind him. The surrounding vampires chuckled quietly amongst themselves.

The woman’s jaw tightened, but Adrian did not move. The vampire descended another step down the dune, elegant as flowing ink. Moonlight traced sharp cheekbones and pale skin untouched by warmth. It looked young, but its eyes betrayed something ancient and starving beneath the surface. “You speak of your father’s laws, but your father is dust. His empire crumbled long ago. The old pacts died with him,” the vampire continued softly as its smile widened slowly. “The humans multiplied. Spread. Consumed. They poison the night simply by existing.” Vivi saw movement ripple through the dunes behind it as more figures emerged from shadow after shadow. Alubarna would drown if this army reached the city walls. Not because her soldiers lacked courage, but no human kingdom was built to survive this. Her fingers tightened around her weapon until the leather bit painfully into her palm. Vivi found herself staring at his shoulders, at the rigid line running through them, and realization settled uneasily into her stomach. “Leave.” The single word cut through the desert like the strike of a blade, and every vampire on the dunes froze.

Vivi felt the command in her chest despite it not being directed at her. Power threaded beneath it, not magical exactly, but absolute. Ancient authority sharpened into something lethal. The vampire leader’s smile vanished completely before the creature sighed almost theatrically, lowering its gaze for one brief moment before looking back up at Adrian with open disappointment. “You always choose them,” it murmured. Something moved in the darkness behind the vampire army, and suddenly Vivi understood with sick certainty that this conversation had already failed. The leader’s crimson eyes gleamed brighter beneath the moonlight as its smile slowly returned, wider now and filled with sharpened teeth. “Humans die so easily,” it whispered. The first vampire lunged before the final word fully left its mouth.

Nyssa is primarily attracted to other women, either romantically, physically, or sexually. However, she is also open to Nonbinary partners as well, but that would need more work in the relationship.

Blood in a lambs wool

You're the victim, right? It hurts, every day it hurts. It's obvious you're tainted, pulled into hell as soon as you step upon earth. You'll never know peace, you'll never know a life without violence. Im sorry. Wash your face and your hands, don't let your wounds carve deeper.

Stolen from @cisnecorazon