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violetasteracademic · 2 months

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Lucien Vanserra's Hero's Journey with Vassa- The Firebird Legends

Hello friends! This is my very first tumblr post, and is IN DEPTH. It seemed like a good place to explore some of the the themes I've been discussing on TikTok regarding Sarah's book structures, how closely Sarah utilizes The Hero's Journey for ACOTAR, and how many "ingredients in the fridge" as I like to call it are already there for Lucien and Vassa's story, despite arguments that there is very little on page action with The Band of Exlies. If anyone is interested in nerding out about book structure with me, I'll do a quick run through of The Hero's Journey with ACOMAF as the example (I made a video about this already!) and then fill in a possible hero's journey beat by beat for Lucien using only what is on the page. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say I could literally plot out and write this book today with everything Sarah has given us!

A few things to know about me: I love all of the characters involved in these ship wars. I am a die hard Elain stan, Az is my favorite Bat Boy, Lucien is one of my all time favorite characters and one whom I deeply relate to (I actually think I relate to Elain and Lucien the most, and I'll share how they mirror each other quite well) and I literally had to pull over in a Sprouts parking lot listening to the ACOSF graphic audio when Gwyn told her story. An elderly woman knocked on my window to ask if I was okay because I was sobbing. I do get passionate about my ships (Elriel and Vassien) because of my reading experience and how I process Sarah's structures. It would be the shock of my life if it goes in a different direction. BUT I love all the characters and respect all ships. My only goal is to get people excited about everything possible for our Bird of Flame and Lord of Fire, because their story stands to be by second favorite after Elain and Azriel!

Here is a quick rundown of The Hero's Journey: A three act structure famously based on the works of Joseph Campbell, an author and educator in the field of comparative mythology.

I will try my best to *briefly* break down the first act of A Court of Mist and Fury (I could do the same for Nesta's Journey in A Court of Silver Flames!)

Step One: The Ordinary World Status Quo. Feyre's status quo after Under The Mountain is the simultaneous evolution of her new life as Fae, and devolution of her spirit and personhood. In her new ordinary world, she is being kept in the dark. She is relegated to wedding planning and isolation.

Step Two: Call to adventure. Feyre is called to adventure on the day of her wedding, when the status quo has become unmaneagable. She calls out for help, and Rhys whisks her to the night court. In the Call to Adventure, our Hero learns a truth about the world that they will have to face. In Feyre's case, it is that the war is immenent. She realizes there is a threat to the safety of her sisters, and Rhys pushes her to train so that she is not unprepared if she is the only thing standing between them and Hybern.

Step Three: Refusal of the Call (in other structures or variations this is called The Debate.) The Hero is not sure if this is their story, if they are the one to face the call. They experience a period of maintaining the status quo a little longer. This is when we see Feyre sinking back into life with Tamlin. He is loosening the reigns, she doesn't want to rock the boat. She believes The Ordinary World might improve without her having to take the next step.

Step Four: Meeting the Mentor. Our hero meets someone that will assist them in their journey, and help them move forward in answering the call. This can be friendships, trainers and teachers, mystical guides, any number of things. In Feyre's case, it is dinner with the Inner Circle. She hasn't yet decided if she will join Rhysand's court and work with him in the efforts against Hybern, however she agrees to meet his court members. Each of them provide guidance to Feyre. In strength and training (Cassian and Azriel), emotional resilience (Mor), and histories/education on how the court and Fae lands function (Amren). Feyre agrees to work for Rhysand and then we cross the threshold into act two.

When I talk about "ingredients in the fridge," I am talking about a dinner that has been planned, ingredients purchased, and everything ready to go for book dinner to be on the table tonight. At this point, Sarah has been grocery shopping for future book plots for many many years! This is my personal interpretation of a really powerful story for Lucien and his hero's journey to free Vassa from Koschei.

Step One: Ordinary World. Lucien wakes up in the human lands in the manor he shares with his Band of Exiles. (I also am obsessed with how messy and hilarious it is that this was gifted to him by his mates ex fiance but I digress.) He has become so close with Vassa that he is no longer trusted to do his job for the Night Court. All the while he is worrying about Koschei, and when he will come for Vassa. Her enslavement to the deathless sorcerer pains him, and the pressure is building.

I hate to poke holes in another ship, however it is important to note that during all of these conversations Elain is not present or mentioned by Lucien in any way. However, Mor states that Lucien is choosing to live in the human lands despite Elain. And of course, in ACOSF Lucien makes it clear that even being in Velaris doesn't mean it is to see Elain, and the thought of his presence being expected only for his mate makes him uncomfortable.

I'm not saying these things couldn't change in the next book, I am however just setting Lucien's Ordinary World or Status Quo. Lucien is living in the human lands with the Band of Exiles and his main areas of concern and growing conflict are with Vassa and Koschei. This is what is being built to send the status quo to a breaking point *at present* His interest or efforts in Elain are devolving while his connection to Vassa and interest in defeating Koschei or freeing her are evolving.

Step Two: Call To Adventure. Lucien already has a powerful possible Call to Adventure (or inciting incident, as other similar structures call it) set in place. Koschei decides to reign in the leash on Vassa and force her to return to the lake, being ripped from her home with Lucien and Jurian and no longer able to provide assistance with the human queens.

Step Three: Resisting the Call. The reason Lucien is so perfectly suited for this is because he is the only character with such torn loyalties. He is loyal to Feyre and the Night Court, he attempts to be respectful to his mate, he is glad to work for Rhysand. There are many other threats present, Lucien's own father Beron suspected to be at risk of allying with Koschei. The human queens in the wind who have powers and a vendetta. While the Firebird legends retelling *could* take place with Jurian and Vassa, my issue with that is similar to my issue with Gwynriel. There is literally nothing, and I mean NOTHING that would create conflict for the character or a debate period. There are no obstacles or stakes in place that could keep the characters apart, which is critical to all storytelling but Sarah utilizes so much conflict. Lucien is the lost wanderer, torn from court to court, abusive home to abusive home, without a true family until the Band of Exiles. But it is still a matter of chosen family over loyalties he still feels to Feyre and her court. So, Vassa is taken by Koschei. Lucien now must be spurred into action, but is *he* the hero of this story? Is he going to be the one to take on Koschei?

Step Four: Meet the mentor. Oh, I think we all know where I am headed with this! What better mentor could there be in place for Lucien in freeing Vassa from her curse than Helion Spellcleaver. Aka Lucien's biological father. Helion also has maintained a consistent presence, being called in to attempt to manage the dread trove items. He has returned to the page in ways other High Lords haven't. We are gearing up for Helion 100%

Now, to get a little farther into some of the details beyond act one, tests allies and enemies, innermost caves, ordeals, so on and so forth, I simply want to focus on the stakes of this story specifically, and why I find them the most powerful.

As far as theme for Lucien, he has been aimless and suffering and ultimately ended up with no home and nowhere to spend Solstice. Feyre and Elain were a default because, in his own words, he had nowhere else to go.

Feyre urges him to call the Night Court home, but he has found a true home with Jurian and Vassa. He cares deeply for them and for their safety. He is amazed by Jurian's leadership, literally saying "Thank god for him" keeping everything together. Even at his best with Rhysand, Lucien has never put full faith in Rhys as a leader (which is very similar to Nesta who, while still an Archeron sister, continues to dismiss Rhys as her high lord and has found her calling and found family with The Valkyrie's.)

Lucien learning Helion is his biological father pairs perfectly with his metal eye, which can see through glamours. We may come to find that Lucien has hidden spell cleaving abilities making him uniquely suited to save the woman he loves. However, this brings us to...

THE BLOOD DUEL.

Lucien and Azriel blood dueling over Elain makes no sense plot, character, or world building wise. Lucien does not identify with the Autumn court or its laws, and he has been nothing but respectful of Elain's lack of interest in him and by all accounts is moving on in a very healthy way. It is stated clearly that Beron knows Lucien is not his son, hence why Lucien received such additional torment and ab*se as well as Beron's treatment of Lady Autumn. However, for Lucien to publicly display Helion's powers would make Lady Autum's affair public knowledge. This gives Beron cause to call for a blood duel with Helion over LoA. These are incredibly high stakes and obstacles. Does he risk the life of his mother and newly discovered father to save the woman he loves by revealing his true power?

As far as Lucien being sole heir to the Day Court, there is another possible outcome where Helion wins the blood duel (thus securing Eris's place as the new High Lord of Autumn, another long established plotline) and Lady Autumn and Helion get a second chance while Lucien still chooses his found family. Or, at the very least, as long of a life with Vassa as he could get before taking up the Day Court. Sarah also of course has had both mortal characters choose mortal life spans for love (Elorcan) or make mortals immortal (Feyre and Miryam.) However, Lucien stated he never had any interest in being a high lord. Of course this is up for interpretation, but I believe his character development still maintains that. This man has been through so much. He just wants to live in peace, and I think it would be a beautiful thing to know that his mother is now safe and not a political pawn.

Speaking of political pawns, this is also why I believe Elain and Lucien have a lot to heal with each other. When Lucien discovers that he could have been raised by Helion and not Beron, but his mother was sold and used as a political pawn and her agency taken away, he is going to face quite a few demons. I do not personally think Lucien's story (or Elain's) is most powerfully served by he and Elain choosing to de-escalate all the conflict and spend time with each other and wind up falling in love. It COULD happen, and if it's what Sarah chooses to do, it will be lovely! But Elain is such a mirror to Lucien's own mother. The only difference being that Lucien is a good male while Beron is a monster. Lucien, when faced with this, would be motivated to prevent his story repeating itself. Elain and Lucien's mother are the only two alive today presenting as unhappy with their pairings. I believe this is what Sarah was referring to when she said Elain was a better mate for Lucien than Nesta (her original plan) because of the healing they could provide each other. While I am not stating this as fact, it is my opinion that there is enough foreshadowing for rejected mating bonds, the suffering of poor matches and females being owned with archaic laws, that Sarah always intended to have Lucien participate in the rejected mating bond story line with one of the Archeron sisters. Lucien and Elain as a rejected bond is a much better fit as Lucien and Elain are actually both quite passive about their mating bond, letting the plot develop and build elsewhere whereas Nesta would have likely just burnt Lucien to a crisp or had it take up a lot more of ACOSF which would have been truly tough to fit in.

I could go on and literally plot out the whole book beat by beat with the Hero's Journey, but I would be here all day. I truly think Lucien and Vassa in the Firebird Legends would be so beautiful and powerful. I've teared up thinking about it! It always disheartens me to see characters getting thrown under the bus for the ship wars, or to be accused of hating Lucien because I ship Elriel. I am brand new to the online ship space, and this was truly how I experienced the books as someone who loves all the characters and wants the best for them. I believe Lucien has been nothing but respectful towards Elain and deserves to be happy. I just don't think Elain is his happiness. Even Feyre and Rhys had moments of trust and connection building in A Court of Thorns and Roses before ACOMAF. Their relationship was not out of left field at all. Elain and Lucien have a LOT of work to do to make their interest in each other suddenly believable, and in my opinion now we are getting into poorly paced and structured writing to accommodate it.

I've definitely seen compelling compilations about how both Elain and Lucien are tied to Koschei and it could just as easily be their shared love story while saving Vassa, and I won't go into a rage if that is what happens. It is simply difficult for me to ignore all the conflicts that would conveniently resolve and obstacles that would be removed. I know people love to call the three brothers and three sisters "lazy" but three is simply a motif, not book structure or line level prose. In my opinion, a sudden resolution to active political conflicts by putting two characters together is much lazier when it comes to the actual writing of the book.

These are just my musings, and the things I picked up on whilst reading (and re-reading a million times tbh) and experiencing books! What do you guys think of Vassien? I personally am so excited by how beautiful it could be!

#elriel #vassien #elain x azriel #lucien x vassa #elain archeron #pro elain #pro elain archeron

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riordanness · 5 months

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cardigan — [e.pevensie]

wordcount: 1.5K

warnings: not technically x reader as ‘reader’ is named Belle

requested: no

“She won’t stop staring.”

“Then stop looking.”

Belle has to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the ridiculous Telmarine soldiers. They’re both clearly terrified of their mission, and are both riddled with anxiety about the entire thing. Which is hilarious.

“You could just let me go,” she says nonchalantly. “Save yourself the risk of aggravating the woods’ spirits.”

The Telmarine facing her gives her a glare. His grip on the sword across his lap tightens.

Belle decides to shut up.

“Here will do,” the other soldier says, the oars in his hands slowing. “Let's just dump her and get it over with.”

The soldiers get to their feet unsteadily. The boat rocks, and Belle wonders what would happen if she tried to tip all three of them into the water. But before she can come up with a good way to execute that plan, the Telmarine snatches her up, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Drop them!” An unfamiliar female voice rings out, and stories of ghosts in the woods run through Belle’s mind. She half turns, and just has time to see four figures on the shore before she’s dropped, literally, into the cold water.

Bubbles surround Belle, and she’s disoriented instantly. Her bound wrists make it impossible to swim, so she sinks, struggling furiously to get loose. Her dress is heavy and sticking to her legs. Her chest is tightening, and black is crawling at the edges of her vision.

Then, something pulls at her, arms slide around her waist, and she is yanked out of the water. Belle gasps, practically drinking the air.

She’s pulled to shore, and laid down on the sand. Something cuts the ropes from her hands. She coughs for a second, getting her bearings back. Drowning was a very awful experience. Belle did not recommend it at all.

“Are you alright?” A girl’s voice asks her, a different one from before, younger.

Belle reacts, twisting as she rises, her dagger, which was previously concealed in her skirts, at the young girl’s throat within seconds.

Shouting erupts from behind them, and Belle glanced to see three others, two boys and an older girl, all with weapons at the ready. The girl has an arrow aimed at Belle’s heart, and both boys have their swords raised.

“Drop it,” the older boy tells her, and his voice is hard and commanding, like he’s used to giving orders.

The girl at Belle’s side doesn’t look particularly scared. “It’s okay,” she promises. “We’re friends.”

Belle narrows her eyes. “How would I know that?”

“Well,” the older girl says, “we did just save your life.”

“Actually, that was me.” It’s the younger boy this time. Belle focuses on him. He has dark hair that’s slightly curly and wet. He looks about her age, and his clothes are wet too. “Don’t worry,” he says to Belle. “We are friends. We won’t hurt you. Just please let Lucy go?”

Belle takes a step back from Lucy, still watching them all carefully. “Fine. Thanks for saving me. Bye.” She turns, but doesn’t even make it three steps before the older boy calls after her.

“Wait!”

She sighs, and looks at them.

“We don’t even know your name.” The older girl has her bow away now, but her eyes look plenty vicious enough for Belle. She doesn’t trust them; any of them.

“I’m Belle,” she says flatly. “Now can I go?”

“Why were they trying to drown you?” Lucy looks up at Belle, and her childlike innocence warms Belle’s heart. She has pretty eyes, too, Belle thinks, full of bravery and fearlessness and determination.

“Because I ran away from the castle where I was, well, a servant of sorts. Because I’m on the side of the true king. And because Miraz is a tyrant,” Belle says.

“Whoa Miraz?” the older boy asks.

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Where have you been living lately? Under a rock? He’s the sort of King? Of Narnia?”

“Narnia?” Lucy gasps. “So it is Narnia!”

Belle frowns. “Uh. Yes. This is Narnia. I’m confused.”

The four all exchange looks. “We’ll tell you,” the older girl tells Belle. “But you have to tell us your story first.”

Belle shrugs. “Whatever.”

Soon enough, the five of them are seated around a campfire. The sun is going down, and Belle’s still-wet dress is chilling her to the core. She doesn’t say anything about it, though.

“So,” she starts, accepting a toasted apple from Lucy. “I’m a handmaid in Miraz’s palace. He’s the brother of the king, but he’s basically put himself in the role of king ever since King Caspian the Ninth died. His son, Caspian the Tenth, should be king, but Miraz doesn’t want that. He wants the throne to himself, you see. Anyways, I’m on the side of Caspian and the old Narnians, so I helped him escape a few nights ago. Miraz’s wife had a baby boy, so he wants to kill Caspian and make himself the king, now that he has an heir.”

Belle takes a bite of the apple, and it’s surprisingly good. “I was going to be executed because they somehow found out I helped Caspian.”

“Yikes,” the younger boy says, throwing his apple core into the flames. “Cool story.”

The older girl is watching Belle. “So what’s your plan now?” she asks.

Belle shrugs. “Go into the woods. Find Caspian and help him to get his throne back, I guess. We were always really close at the palace, since I grew up there and we’re not too far apart in age.”

The emotions in her voice must have been more obvious than she thought, because Lucy shuffles over to sit beside her, their shoulders touching. Belle gives the girl a soft smile, before she glanced up at the other three.

“So?” she says. “What’s your story?”

The older two exchange a glance. “We’re the kings and queens of old,” the older boy says. “I’m High King Peter, the Magnificent.”

Belle isn’t even that shocked. She’s kind of guessed it by now, even though it was impossible. “You know you guys should be about 1200 years old now, right?”

The younger boy chuckles. “I’m Edmund.”

Belle nods her head at him. “I figured. And you must be Queen Susan?” She glances at the older girl. Susan smiles gently.

“Just Susan is fine.”

Belle salutes. “Whatever you say, Just Susan.”

Edmund laughs again, but tries to hide it with a cough.

Belle stands, shaking her heavy skirts as best she can. It’s an awful material, still holding most of the water from earlier in its skirts. She lets out an angry sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks.

“Oh, it’s my dress,” Belle sighs, sitting back down. “They didn’t let me change for the execution and I was doing heavy cleaning this morning. It’s a really terrible dress to wear while it’s wet.”

Lucy looks at Edmund. “Do we still have our school things?” she asked excitedly.

Edmund nods, slowly at first but then he seems to get the idea. “I’ll get them.” He hurries over to the rowboat, which now has a small pile of their things next to it. He brings back over a white shirt and black pants, as well as a strange black skirt.

“Here,” he hands them to Belle. “Sorry—they’re mostly boy’s things but you look about my size and Susan ruined her shirt earlier. But there’s my shirt and pants and Su’s skirt if you'd rather that.”

Belle offers him a smile. “Thank you, King Edmund.”

“No need to call me King,” he says back, as he lays himself back onto the sand. His black hair is messy and reflects the fire’s flickering light.

“I’m just going to go get changed in the tree line,” Belle tells the group. “If I ain’t back in five, panic.”

The others grin as she heads off, the clothes bundled in her arms. Behind a tree, she pulls her dress off over her head, depositing it in a bush. She then peels off her petticoats and corset, leaving only her thin under-bodice and under-shorts on. Belle then tried on Edmund’s shirt, which fits surprisingly well. It’s an odd kind of shirt though, a lot stiffer than ones she’s used to mending. She buttons it up, rolling the sleeves up to her elbows and leaving the top two buttons undone. Now that she isn’t wet, it’s a pretty warm night.

Belle decides to wear the skirt, as she is shorter than Edmund and doesn’t want to wear his pants if they’ll be too long. They’d just be a tripping hazard. She instead pulls on Susan’s skirt, buttoning it up on the side. It’s also very strange, but comfortable, and very freeing and easy to move in. It stops just above her knee. Belle runs her hands through her hair, which has long since come undone and is tangled and knotted due to the water.

Feeling somewhat presentable, Belle scoops up the clothes from the ground and heads back to the fire.

Edmund’s eyes are on her at once, and she isn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks is from him or the fire.

“Oh—“ Edmund stutters a little. “That… you look good in those.”

Belle smiles, a little triumphant. “They’re quite comfortable. Thank you, Edmund.”

“Anytime,” he replies softly. “Anytime.”

#edmund pevensie #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #narnia fanfic #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #lucy pevensie

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piratesgiftexchange · 1 year

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For @hearti by @everythingispirates

PROMPT: Norrington becomes a vengeful spirit and goes after someone he feels has wronged him WORD COUNT: 4219

Sleeping in the dinghy was less than ideal, Jack would be the first to admit.

He’d done it more times than he could count, probably more times than he’d slept in a bed on dry land, but being used to it didn’t make it any more comfortable. Besides, he never used to wake up quite as sore as he did now. There seemed to always be some new muscle protesting, ones he didn’t even know he had at times.

Age. Ageing and ageing and rotting and dying. Jack shivered where he laid, curling up tighter.

He did like how dark it was out here, on the open sea. Darkness had not been a luxury afforded him in the locker - even when the sun did set, the white void around him would seem to give off a cold glow, as though he were stuck on the moon. It made it hard to relax, and now and then he’d gone days without sleep, spending his nights wandering the ship and watching the glowing earth.

Just the thought of it made him restless. He’d picture the void, then the smell of it would follow, the taste of the air - dry and stale, like a dirt cellar - and the feeling of the ship beneath his feet, far too still for the Pearl. Just a moment ago he’d been drowsy, but now he was completely awake, not panicked but with his guard raised. He flipped onto his back, blinking up at the sky for a few seconds, imagining that the moon was looking back. Still, it was no good. The sky was the same here as the locker, after all - the same shade of black, the same constellations. It was only when he sat up, reaching over the railing and letting his hand dip into the water, that he could relax.

A drink might make it easier to sleep, and even if it didn’t Jack always did prefer to spend his waking hours drunk rather than sober. He fumbled for his bottles, managed to get a grip on one of them and then drank from it for as long as he could manage before the burn got too much. It wasn’t any good rum, worse than usual, but it did its job and that was all that mattered. As he took another swig, Jack could already feel the alcohol and the rocking of the waves getting him comfortably hazy.

He stayed like that for a while, watching the sky and drinking until it became hard to tell the stars apart. At least he could still make out the moon, as well as the occasional cloud that passed by. It wasn’t good to get too drunk out at sea, he reminded himself…

Actually, now that he thought about it, ‘occasional’ might not have been the right word for the clouds. The more he looked, the more of them seemed to appear, wisps of milky white against the dark of the sky, brushing against the water and the side of the dinghy. Jack felt a sudden spike of panic wake him up a bit, as he realised what was happening. Not clouds, fog. Fog was currently enveloping him, faster than what should really be possible. He had half a mind to dunk his head in the water in an effort to clear it, but caught himself before going through with that thoroughly stupid idea, instead reaching over the side of the dinghy and scooping some to splash into his face.

The fog was definitely moving too fast, Jack decided. In just a moment, he couldn’t even see from one end of the dinghy to the other, and he swore loudly to himself.

The fog felt heavy, thick, like moving through syrup, and Jack found himself regretting that drink more and more as he crawled towards the front of the dinghy, feeling in front of himself to make sure he didn’t fall in. He had never been afraid of the sea, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t acutely aware of what it could do to him if he lost the safety of his boat. And in the fog, losing his boat wasn’t as much a threat as it was a certainty. In the few moments it took for him to find his direction in the water and get to the surface again, he’d already be a dead man.

Swimming and sinking and sinking and sinking until his last breath was long since drawn-

A shape suddenly seemed to appear within the fog, and Jack screamed, falling back into the dinghy.

He screwed his eyes shut, hissing as a sharp pain shot from the back of his head. Maybe he’d fallen against the bench, or one of the many odd crates he hadn’t bothered to inspect yet - it would be impossible to tell. Whatever the cause of it, it hurt like the devil, and it took some time before the world stopped rocking more than it usually did on the sea, and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times.

The shape was impossible to see from this far, yet Jack felt as though he could almost sense it, feel something move on the other side of the boat. It was watching him. There was no ‘it could be’ or ‘it might be’ about it. It was, he just knew it. Like its eyes, if it had those, could cut through the fog and brush against his face.

A sudden gust of wind almost made him jump. It made the boat tilt precariously to the starboard, and seemed to tear at the fog, making it swirl into a dizzying spiral pattern. Like whirlpools, just barely visible but impossible to ignore once you noticed them. Jack watched the display, eyes darting from spiral to spiral, until the fog finally started to thin out somewhat. He could see more of the stuff at the bottom of the dinghy first, then the mast and then, finally, the shape.

It was a person, or at least person-sized, a dark shadow that remained perfectly still behind the fog. It seemed to cling to the shape, even as more and more of it was blown away by the wind, wrapping it around the shape like a cloak.

Still, the wind eventually won - with one final gust, the last of the fog was torn from the shape to reveal…something.

It was definitely a person, but that was about as much as Jack was able to identify. The shape was still dark, almost blending into the night sky behind it and the edges of it were smudged, like a blot of ink that someone had tried and failed to wipe off. It looked to be standing on the dinghy’s railing, but seemingly had no trouble keeping its balance, even as the wind continued to rock the boat.

Jack stared wide-eyed at the shape, not sure what to make of it. It hadn’t moved yet, which was comforting, but that didn’t have to mean it never would - Jack got the sense it was biding its time as much as he was, waiting to see how the situation developed. There was something about it, though, and Jack wasn’t sure how to describe it. The something was pulsating, coming at him in waves and making his skin tingle, and much like he’d found himself knowing that the shape was watching him earlier, there was now this sense of knowing that what he felt was some not quite, but almost physical manifestation of pure malice. He didn’t much care for it.

There was a glint of white in the shape’s general face area, and then Jack found himself being stared down by a pair of green eyes. Not green like eyes usually were, but green like precious stones. Maybe laid into the handle of a dagger, with the way they were looking at him, Jack thought as another wave of malice hit him.

“You,” a voice came from the shape’s general direction, perhaps slightly above it. It was choked, and while Jack didn’t recognise it in and of itself, he found himself recognising the tone. Disdain - like Jack wasn’t even worth the breath - but with an edge to it that betrayed real, tangible frustration. A slight tremble in the voice.

“You,” Jack echoed.

He stared at what had used to be the former commodore, feeling somehow both more and less on edge. Less because now at least he had some idea of what he was dealing with, more for much the same reason. The former commodore had historically not exactly been friendly with him and with the various feelings now seemingly dripping off his shadowy form, Jack didn’t imagine that had changed. Jack was used to inciting anger, of course, but it was rare that he felt this hated, and it made him squirm where he sat.

“I hadn’t heard you passed on,” he said, his voice still steady despite the unease. That was good. At least he could rely on that. “Went down with the Endeavour did you?”

A short pause. Norrington’s eyes still stared wide and unblinking at him.

“No,” he finally said. Then, after another beat added “Dutchman.”

“In the fight? I should have said hi then.” Jack managed to make himself sound casually apologetic, like he’d missed Norrington at some sort of social event. “My apologies.”

“No.” The edges of Norrington’s form seemed to bristle slightly, and for a moment Jack thought he grew a bit sharper, a few details becoming visible and then immediately disappearing again. Maybe it was best to keep further elaboration on Norrington’s demise to himself? It wasn’t as though it really mattered, anyway. The issue was what to do with him now.

“So you’ve come to haunt me, is that it?” Jack felt himself grow slightly irritated as he said it, and he sat up a bit straighter, not feeling confident by any means but perhaps a bit stupid. “And why, pray tell, me of all people?”

The confidence had definitely been misplaced, as the wind suddenly picked up again, nearly knocking Jack over, and in the blink of an eye Norrington was so close Jack thought he could have reached out to touch him. Rather than that, though, he instinctively recoiled from the dark mass, crawling a few paces back under Norrington’s piercing gaze.

“You-” Norrington said - hissed - slowly “-ruined me.”

“Oh come now, I thought we were all past that.” Jack managed a smile, then quickly had to move even further back as Norrington’s form bristled again.

“You ruined me,” he repeated, and Jack said nothing, too focused on pressing himself as flat against the back of the dinghy as he could manage. He remained there, watching Norrington carefully as he eventually pulled himself back to where he’d originally stood, balanced impossibly on the railing. Norrington’s eyes were still on Jack, still not blinking, just two specks of white and green, far too bright in the night.

Jack’s back was starting to ache, and the alcohol that had been washed out of his system had left behind a throbbing pain behind his eyes. And slowly, as he and the shape that had once been Norrington stared each other down, he felt the irritation return.

“How?” he asked without even thinking about it. Norrington said nothing, though his eyes seemed to narrow, but Jack didn’t allow himself to falter. “How did I ruin you?”

There came a sharp sound from Norrington, like the ringing of a rusty church bell, and it took Jack a moment before he realised that that had been Norrington laughing.

“I hunted you,” Norrington said, and Jack scoffed, noting how weak it sounded.

“Yes, I remember very well.” He nodded. “But you didn’t have to hunt me.”

“My commission.” Norrington was starting to sound irritated now, too. Not angry, irritated, and it spurred Jack on.

“You didn’t have to take up the commission either,” he insisted, and Norrington suddenly seemed to almost disappear, growing translucent and blending in better with the night. For a long time, he was very silent.

“Yes, I did,” he finally said.

“His royal highness came to pressgang you himself, is that it?” Jack asked, and he could have sworn that Norrington’s eyes darted to the side for just a moment, before they fixed back on him, Norrington growing more distinct against the backdrop again.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, and now it was Jack’s turn to laugh.

“And you wouldn’t understand why I have to live like I do.” He shrugged. “Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

Norrington didn’t say anything, but he did blink. Jack thought he could see more of him now, the hints of a face, the glimmering of the buttons on his coat, and the general shape of his boots on the railing.

“You know what I think, former commodore?” Jack continued. “I think you think you’ve been dealt an unfair hand, and I think you’re only here because you’re not imaginative enough to blame anyone but me.” He reached for one of his bottles, uncorking it as he spoke. “Now if it were me, I would have taken my complaints up with Beckett. You died under his flag, didn’t you?”

Jack took a swig of rum - which was perhaps ill-advised - as he watched Norrington sway slightly with the wind. He was definitely becoming more clear - Jack could see the hole in his uniform, right at his chest and with a dark stain surrounding it. And he could see Norrington’s expression. He looked confused, torn between the same ill will Jack had felt earlier and something far more pained.

“Beckett is dead,” he said after a moment, sounding quite hesitant.

“Then go find him in the afterlife and give him a piece of your mind,” Jack huffed. “Just leave me alone.”

Without even thinking about it, he threw the cork at Norrington. It passed right through him, landing in the water with a low, somewhat sad noise.

Jack took another swig, with Norrington watching him intently. He declined to comment on the cork, which Jack supposed might leave him with some dignity still intact, after that failed move. He sighed.

“How did you end up here, mate?” It came out a bit softer than he’d intended, but what did it matter? It wasn’t as though Norrington would be going around telling the tale in this state.

“I don’t know.” There was a movement, Norrington suddenly sinking, and it took a moment for Jack to realise he had sat down. “I remember feeling lost, like I’d been left out at sea with nothing to guide me. All I had were my thoughts. I got…frustrated. And then I got angry.”

Right. Norrington had died at sea, and there had been that bit about Jones not doing his duty. Jack still wasn’t sure when, exactly, he’d been killed but it had to be at least a few days ago, and while he couldn’t know for sure what that was like, if it was anything like the locker, he could almost understand where Norrington was coming from. But at least he shouldn’t be having that issue now - William didn’t exactly seem the type to abandon his post, stubborn kid that he was. Jack felt something twist in his stomach and hoped for his own sake that he was just getting sick from the rum.

“I think things will be different now, if you…” he waved his hand, finding it hard to come up with the proper words “...move on. Give the afterlife another shot.”

Norrington looked down, and Jack could actually see him shaking his head.

“I don’t know how to.”

That wasn’t good. Between looking for the Pearl and the fountain, Jack had more than enough on his hands and the last thing he needed was a ghost stalking him to the ends of the earth. He knew from experience that Norrington wasn’t quick to get off his trail, and while he seemed to have calmed down - almost to the point of reason - Jack didn’t trust old habits not to die hard.

“It can’t be that difficult,” he insisted. “People do it all the time, don’t they? I mean, if they didn’t, it’d be positively swarming with ghosts.”

Norrington snorted, but then Jack thought something troubled came over his expression, though it was still quite hard to tell.

“I think I’m…afraid,” he said after a moment, sounding like he had caught himself slightly off guard with his words. Jack honestly thought it was pretty reasonable, but no way in hell was he telling Norrington that and extending his stay on his boat.

“Of passing on? No need. I’ve done it myself. It’s not so bad.” For once in his life, the lie felt like it cut the inside of Jack’s mouth as he spoke it, but his voice still didn’t waver. “And I’m certain you’ll get to go to the fancy place. Real do-gooder such as yourself.”

“If you are trying to imply that I will see Heaven-” Norrington’s voice still didn’t sound like him, but there was a dryness to it now that was very familiar “- I kindly ask that you don’t raise my hopes too much.”

There was a pause - Jack not sure how to respond to what Norrington had just said - before he continued, something pleading coming over his voice. It almost made Jack squirm where he sat.

“I made a terrible mistake, Sparrow, I- I chose the wrong side. And I didn’t realise until it was too late.” His eyes seemed to have widened slightly, and Jack quickly said the first thing he could think of to soothe the spirit, figuring it was best to keep him somewhat calm.

“At least you didn’t know it was the wrong choice, eh?” He managed a smile. “That has to count for something?”

“I can’t imagine it will.” Norrington was quiet for a moment. “I wouldn’t want it to. It was my mistake, whether I knew it or not.”

Now that was undoubtedly very noble but it didn’t help Jack one bit. He resisted the urge to sigh. Of course he felt bad for Norrington, as bad as he could afford to feel, at least, but he wasn’t sure he felt bad enough to let him stay around in this state - even now that he looked more benign there was an uneasy feeling to him, like some sixth sense was screaming at Jack that Norrington’s presence simply wasn’t natural.

“Is that what’s keeping you here, then?” Jack tried. “Regret?”

“That…could be it, yes,” Norrington said slowly. “But that doesn’t leave me with many options, does it? It’s not like I can do anything about it now. Especially not like this.”

That was - unfortunately - true. Jack drummed his fingers against his knee, trying to think of where to go from here. Maybe if he could just relieve some of Norrington’s worries, that could be a start at least…

“You said you died before the battle. What happened?” he asked, and Norrington seemed to grow a bit fuzzy at the edges for a second. The subject probably made him uncomfortable, which wasn’t exactly something Jack could blame him for. He knew for a fact he’d prefer not to recount his own death, thank you very much.

“I was on the Dutchman, and we took Sao Feng’s ship,” he began. “Elizabeth was there, she told me her father had died. Had been killed. I…”

He trailed off, growing more translucent but at the same time sharper in the details. Jack chose to interpret it as some sort of progress, mostly just because he needed the comfort.

“I didn’t know what to do, at first. But I knew I had to help her. So I sent her and her crew off to Shipwreck and then-” He cut himself off mid-sentence, then continued, his voice lower. “And then one of the men stabbed me.”

Jack didn’t say anything for a few moments, letting Norrington’s story hang in the air, thinking it over. Then, he slowly shifted towards Norrington’s form - despite every instinct trying to force him not to - until he was sitting close enough to theoretically touch him. Norington had turned his gaze down again, and Jack had to lower his head slightly to catch it.

“I could tell you what happened,” he suggested. “Ease your mind a little.”

Norrington didn’t say anything, but Jack decided it was still worth the attempt. If he didn’t like it, Norrington could stop him.

“Elizabeth was late to the court, but she arrived in quite the dramatical fashion,” he began. “She walked in like she’d been captain for years, decades, even, and got right into the rhythm of things. It was right as we were debating what to do about Beckett - Barbossa was suggesting some nonsense about a sea goddess, but Elizabeth was the one who called for all out war.”

It could be the vagueness of his features, but it looked like that drew a smile out of Norrington.

“That sounds like Elizabeth,” he said, and Jack grinned at him.

“Aye, mad enough for the whole court combined,” he agreed. “She was laughed at, at first, but with a bit of rhetorical help from her loyal friend -” he gestured to himself “- the brethren were convinced. Only trouble was, turned out by the ruling of the code only one person has the power to take the court to war…”

He trailed off, letting the tension hang in the air like he was telling the story to a group of excitable children. It didn’t exactly have that effect, but after a few seconds, Norrington eventually seemed to get with the program.

“Who?”

“The pirate king.”

“No.” Norrington was definitely smiling now, sounding like he was genuinely having trouble believing it, and Jack nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh yes,” he insisted. “The first in a hundred years, probably. Courtesy of my very own vote, might I add.”

Jack went on to describe the battle, omitting a few details here and adding some extra dramatics there, not that many of those were needed. It was mostly filling in the blanks of what he’d missed when he’d been on the Dutchman, based partly on what Elizabeth and Barbossa had told him, and partly on what he imagined Elizabeth had been doing. It was only when he got to the end that he started to lose his momentum, somewhat. Maybe Norrington didn’t notice, but Jack felt as though each word weighed heavier than the last as he briefly went over William’s death, resurrection and curse.

“If it weren’t for your being dead, I’d say this was your time to strike,” he joked, mostly in an attempt to lighten his own mood, but Norrington didn’t seem wildly offended, at least.

“Yes, you would,” he just said, then “How is she?”

“I can’t imagine she’s…happy, exactly.” It slipped out before Jack could even think about it, a smite too truthful to be comfortable. “But she’ll live. And terrorise the seas for as long as she does.”

Norrington nodded solemnly, hopefully not too devastated at his former fiancé going into the piracy business. It was a comparatively small problem, after all, Jack reasoned.

“Will you see her again?” Norrington asked after a while, and Jack shrugged.

“I’m not sure.” He would, probably. He hoped. And he would never let Elizabeth know that.

“If you do, will you tell her that I’m sorry?”

“I promise,” Jack responded immediately, not even sure if he was lying or not himself. He was self aware enough to know his word wasn’t worth much, but he thought he did mean it, to the best of his abilities, and Norrington didn’t make any snide remarks.

He was looking much clearer now, almost solid, when Jack didn’t look directly at him. And, upon further inspection, there was a slight smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he said and now, finally, Jack did recognise his voice.

In just the blink of an eye, Norrington was gone. No fog or wind, this time, just a second that passed and took Norrington with it, leaving Jack alone in the boat again. He stared at where Norrington had been sitting for a good while - almost expecting his thoughts to start racing, but instead finding them unusually still. Like the silence had crept into his mind and made a home there.

Jack laid down in the boat again, curling up on his side and closing his eyes. He breathed in the smell and the feel of the ocean air, feeling the boat rock.

Suddenly, he thought he could hear the sound of a ship - close, but still unusually quiet. He opened one eye, glancing at the shadow of it, as it passed him by in mere seconds, almost brushing against the railing of the dinghy before it vanished into the darkness of the sea. Even with how fast it had been, he had recognised the silhouette, still managing to strike some fear into him, even knowing it wasn’t here for him. Still, it passed, just as the actual ship had, and Jack could get comfortable again. As comfortable as he could get, with his back aching against the hard floor. When he finally started to drift off, he silently wished the Dutchman and its new passenger safe travels.

#pirates of the caribbean #potc #fanfiction #jack sparrow #james norrington #submission #round 4

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cwritesforfun · 1 year

Text

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Fem!Reader: I want to write you a song

The inspiration and lyrics mentioned will be from “I Want to Write You a Song” from One Direction.

Lyrics will be in ITALICS & they are from One Direction, not me.

**** I do not own the words in italics or Top Gun characters.

Masterlist

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Y/N’s POV

I rub my head and slowly open my door. I’m so tired today.

I hear a guitar playing and I hear Bradley singing. I always love when he’s singing. His voice is sheer beauty and raw talent. What can he not do? I’ll actually tell you what he cannot do. The laundry!!! How hard is tossing a laundry pod in and pressing start?! :(

I hear him sing these words ‘I want to write you a song One to make your heart remember me So any time I'm gone You can listen to my voice and sing along”

Stop, why is this song kind of sad? But his voice is pretty singing it.

Bradley turns and sees me standing by his door. He quickly sets his guitar down and jumps up to hug me tightly.

I exclaim “That song was beautiful. I just got home and I’m hungry. What kind of dinner do we want tonight?” Bradley smiles and replies “I thought we decided on tacos tonight. I am almost done here. Just give me like 15 minutes.” I kiss him on the cheek and reply “Keep rocking sweetheart. You’re an amazing singer. I got dinner.”

After cooking, Bradley shows up and is apologetic for not being able to help cook. I don’t even care. I love cooking and baking.

During dinner, Bradley asks about my day and everything I did. One thing I love about him is that he will let me ramble and tell him every minuscule detail about my day no matter how big or small, I get to just talk freely and know that I am being heard.

After dinner, he brings me to his room and gets his guitar. He exclaims “I heard this song from Phoenix today and I recorded a cover of it for you to listen to whenever I’m on a mission. I know you get lonely and I want you to be able to hear my voice and feel at home.”

I reply “You’re so sweet, babe.” He starts strumming and singing the song.

** LISTEN TO THE SONG RIGHT NOW ** Or read them below

I want to write you a song One that's beautiful as you are sweet With just a hint of pain For the feeling that I get when you are gone I want to write you a song I want to lend you my coat One that's as soft as your cheek So when the world is cold You'll have a hiding place you can go I want to lend you my coatEverything I need I get from you Givin' back is all I wanna doI want to build you a boat One that's strong as you are free So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink You know it won't I want to build you a boat Everything I need I get from you Givin' back is all I wanna do Everything I need I get from you Givin' back is all I wanna do I want to write you a song One to make your heart remember me So any time I'm gone You can listen to my voice and sing along I want to write you a song I want to write you a song

** END OF SONG **

By the end, there are tears streaming down my face and he gets up to hug me. I exclaim “I love you so much, Bradley Bradshaw.” He replies “I love you so much Y/N.” He kisses my cheeks and forehead before leaning into my lips to kiss me once more.

He asks “Do you want to cuddle and watch a movie in bed now?” I laugh and answer “I need a shower first.” He replies “I could use a shower too.” I smile and kiss him on the cheek.

I will say that Bradley massages my head as he puts the shampoo in and I almost forget where I am. It’s truly perfect.

I wear one of his t-shirts and Bradley wears grey sweatpants as we get into bed. He gets the remote and turns on the tv. I lean my head onto his shoulder and we watch a movie.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun movie #Top Gun fic #top gun imagine #top gun imagines #top gun bradley #top gun rooster #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #Youtube

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maleoventlover · 3 months

Text

The Unexplainable

(Warning: Mentions of blood, cults, stabbing, sacrificing animals and people)

Lucia Johnson, a twenty-three year old African American woman with a love for the ocean, suffered an ancient at a young age. As a child she used to go deep sea fishing with her father. One night she was sent to retrieve something from the captain's quarters. As she retrieved the item for her father, happy to be of some help, a mirage of red and blue lights flashing throughout the sky. The boat shook violently as the water around them thrashed and slammed into the boat. Her father’s cries for her to stay, soon drowned out by an echoing voice. Staying in the closed off room she watched as hands arose from the depths of the ocean, covered in rock and plants they rose beyond the waves. The stone cracking and crumbling revealing deep shimmering skin that reflected red and blue rapidly, practically blinding her. The voices spoke in a language she could not hear, but she could see the panic on her father’s face. Afraid to leave, she could only watch in horror as her father was grabbed by whatever force they came upon, the sky flashing fast, the boat rocking violently. Loosing her footing Lucia hit her head on the wheel falling unconscious.

When she awoke she was in the hospital with her mother and grandmother at her side. Informed that her father had disappeared off the boat, supposedly drowned. She was found by the coast guard the following morning. She had been comatose for 3 days. After telling her family what had occurred that night they tossed it up to a Childs imagination combined with trauma. Putting her on medication that made her more awake, aware, and deemed more reasonable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now grown up she works as an evening-shift cashier in the middle of San Francisco, California. One day while arriving at her shift she witnessed waves of women buying ritualistic supplies and running out the store in swarms. The odd and aggressive behavior from these women intrigued Lucia. She and her fellow cashier and friend Mikey Truman decide to follow the swarm of women. After hiking though the forest the two trailed the group to a secluded part of a beach.

The sight before the was like something out of a movie. There were women putting on red cloaks, animals being lined up as they one by one had their throats slit, letting the blood collect in the middle of what looked like some sort of ritualistic carving, candles being placed and lit around the circle. Mikey quickly pulled out her camera to record the ongoing preparations of something big, something supernatural. Deciding she had enough Lucia wanted to turn back and leave. She gasped as two hooded figures grabbed them.

Kicking and screaming the duo is dragged towards the center of the carvings. Lucia, screaming and kicking tries to fight against her captures. Taking out a knife they hold her down in the middle of the blood soaked sand. Mikey screaming her name as the women raised the blade. With the last bit of strength Lucia sits up abruptly, unconsciously holding up her hand to block the blade.

It all happened so fast. The blade perigee through Lucias hand, her screams filled the air as blood spilled onto the center sigil. A bright flash of red and blue lights erupt from the circle, surrounding Lucia. Voices started speaking to her, shouting at her. Screaming in pain she stands and begins to swing her hand around, blade still inside. As she swung herself around in a panic she felt her hand collide with a hard object. Looking up in horror she sees her bloody wounded hand, connected to a man’s chest, the blade sinking into his flesh. A pair of lilac eyes stared at her with with confusion.

“Who the hell are you?”

#black writers #black writblr #original writing #story #writeblr #short story #supernatural #supernatural romance #ambw #bwam #ambw bwam #writing #writing advice

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nerodreamblog · 1 year

Text

My family and I went to a beachside town. A really colorful one where all the shops were different colors. The beach was full of people having fun in the sun.

I found a bike and decided to go exploring. I ended up biking up a mountain and went too fast, launching the bike onto a small cliff. I knew if I went any further, I'd have a hard time getting back down.

I had to climb down the side of the large rock, which conveniently had slabs I could put my feet on. The hard part was getting the bike down. I tried to carry it in one hand but I ended up dropping it. I was scared I would break it, thankfully it didn't. There was a guy at the bottom who was even bothered by the bike. All I had to do was climb the rest of the way down (it was about 15 feet off the ground.) I did successfully, but then I fainted.

A group of elementary school kids came to stare at me and even kicked me as they walked by and climbed into a school bus.

I woke up and the guy at the bottom was still there. I asked why he didn't do anything. He said it wasn't his place.

Then I woke up.

My family and I piled into my mom's SUV to go on a road trip.

We traveled to a swamp where we had to drive through tiny lakes to park. My mom said it was fine because her SUV had minor boating capabilities so it would take a lot to sink us.

We found an entrance where one of those bug alien guys from Rick and Morty was waiting for us.

He took our SUV and I had to get in the middle back seat. I seat I DESPISE but always end up sitting in because I'm always the smallest.

For some reason our cousin J was there. I considered sitting in the trunk because maybe then I'd be more comfortable, but I might get motion sick because the bug guy drove fast and swerved hard.

We ended up driving through what I can only describe as a rollercoaster for cars with loops and everything. The bug guy explained to us that we had to go through this path because we couldn't get caught. Caught by whom, I wonder? Something about the creatures in the park.

The dream switched to me breaking into a mansion to spy on the family. I was a mothman (not Nero, just a regular old mothman) spy with gadgets and sneaking capabilities. I had one gadget that let me be invisible as long as I stayed in the shadows.

In the mansion lived a mom with her three daughters, one forty, the other twenty, the youngest ten. The youngest looked like a young Mara Wilson because we were watching Mrs. Doubtfire last night.

The mom was always drunk and neglected her daughters and abused the female-only staff that worked there. The eldest daughter was also almost always drunk.

I found a shadow under the piano to hear their conversation. The middle daughter was yelling at the mom because she was mad about how the mom never paid attention to her growing up. The mom brushed her off and unfortunately for me, went to go play piano with her youngest. I had to sit there and wait and contort my body to make sure they didn't step on me and catch me.

Eventually I fell asleep in a weird angle and I had to wriggle around to stretch and readjust myself.

Finally the mom walked away from the piano and I could go find another place to spy.

I found a really large bathroom that was basically just a square room with a single toilet and sink, but the way the light shone, there were no shadows for me to hide in. I heard the door open and I found a closet, hoping it would be enough.

The forty year old opened the door and looked right at me. I looked at her with my wide, red eyes. She didn't seem scared, in fact she was quite happy to be speaking to me. She told me she'd been able to see me the whole time and just wanted me to try one some clothes. She put a couple of Slavic style headscarves on me and used that to pull me out of the closet before wrapping me in shawls, pleased with how I looked in them.

We then sat down and the daughter spoke to me about how she was expecting someone to come and spy on her mom and she welcomed it. Turns out she also had a daughter and wanted to give her a better life.

I nodded in understanding, because I couldn't produce human sounds as a mothman.

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excalibent · 3 years

Text

About SquigglyDigg

I still don’t get it.

It’s difficult to really vocalize my feelings on the issue because they’re all kinda crossed. Like, people are touting certain posts of hers like they’re proof that she’s a terrible person or whatever, screenshots and shit of her political takes, but, like...hey. Guys. Have some of y’all ever once interacted with someone who doesn’t agree with you politically?

In the real world. Face-to-face. If you met Squiggly (fuckin’, fine, someone like Squiggly) in the street, would you look them in the face and start ranting about all the shit they’ve done and said to make you feel upset?

I’ve been trying to parse out what the fuck happened there for years, at this point, and it still doesn’t really make sense to me. Like, a lot of the shit she caught (and apparently, is still catching) flak for is just...Republican. You know? Like, conservative beliefs that a lot of Republicans share. I don’t like the party myself, but I know a good number of people who would consider themselves Republicans and I’m starting to think that just, at some point, saying ‘alright, I guess the argument ends here’ never registered for some people.

Part of it is definitely just how Tumblr operates. You essentially curate your own content, and if you don’t like someone’s opinions, you just stop following them - which means that there’s a lot of people who exclusively get info and opinions totally counter to conservative ideologies, and believe that this information is not only right, but it’s also the only right anyone should be allowed to believe in.

Let’s get specific.

I, personally, unfollowed SquigglyDigg because of what seems to be anti-vaccination sentiment that’s showing up on her blog just recently. I believe in the vaccine, I believe it is necessary, and I certainly believe that claiming that it’s harmful in any sense is harmful to society at large.

So there’s something about the vaccine, or how it’s being handled, or something about the vaccination card they give you that just rubs her the wrong way. I have no specifics, don’t presume that she’ll give them to you, either, and for fuck’s sake, don’t harass her about it, because it just occurred to me that some of you spineless fucks actually think that sending death threats to people on the internet is a good way to handle shit.

But, back to the point - she doesn’t like something about the vaccine and the particular post I saw seems to equate the vaccine card to the star that Jewish people were forced to wear during the Holocaust.

The internet allows for accumulate opinion like this. It just happens - but I believe that’s because the internet is predisposed to radicalization. What about someone I meet in the real world?

All of my coworkers are antivaxxers. They refuse to get it for various reasons, none of which I think are good or even valid.

Okay. What now?

Everyone around me is pretty conservative in general. I can’t opt for a more agreeable experience by ‘unfollowing’ anyone, because they’re still going to be there every day I come in for work. Hell, I can’t even get them to agree with me.

I’ve always hated the phrase ‘agree to disagree’ because it leaves a lot of loose ends in terms of the argument it pertains to, but what else can I do? I’m sure as hell not going to go to my boss and go ‘hey x coworker is republican please do something about it’. For one, they can’t do anything about it, and for two, even if they could, I don’t think I could ethically prescribe to whatever method of political pruning they might be employing to ‘solve’ the disagreement.

So that’s the whole ‘But she’s conservative!’ side of it. So what. I know a shitton of conservatives who are actually very nice people and it’s just not a problem.

Then, of course, there’s the other...stuff. Can’t even really dig into all of it, but...I don’t know, man, it just looks like regular fandom drama bullshit to me, and the only reason Squiggly caught so much shit for it was because she was a big target who was only tangentially involved in some of those situations.

And just in case some of you didn’t notice that little bit in the middle - for god’s sake, do not harass her. If you got fucking pilloried for your political beliefs because of an opinion you had on a goddamn kid’s movie, I can guarantee you that you’d dig your heels in through the crust of the Earth and start taking active measures to build up a wall around yourself to get people to quit fucking doing it.

“But I wouldn’t-” You would. You absolutely would, if not from the beginning, then from the moment that people started dragging up everything they could find that would help them feel more comfortable or sure in disliking you, every little mistake or irrational slip of the tongue that they could possibly dig up.

Don’t. Fucking. Do it.

So to summarize:

- I’m pretty sure SquigglyDigg is just conservative, guys

- That’s not a bad thing, just in case I have to reiterate

- Petty fandom RP bullshit? Get in line, it’s literally fucking everywhere

- Why did it take me so long to figure this out? It didn’t because I’m still parsing through it all (because believe it or not I can agree to disagree but I’ll still have reservations about it because it’s fucking politics, people, it’s a goddamn minefield) but what I know for sure is that the shitstorm that erupted around her was not remotely warranted and you people need to fucking cool it

#SquigglyDigg #this is the Rant Grumps thing all over again #some person had a fucking vendetta #and decided to see if they could sink the boat if they rocked it hard enough

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onyxoverride · 3 years

Text

Ocean Spit

Titan! Eren Jaeger x Reader [ + normal form Eren Jaeger]

◙warnings: monsterfucking then normal fucking, multiple orgasms, overstim, a lot of liquids, size difference to the max. Minors dni (18+ only.)

◙word count: 2.5k

◙summary: Eren offers to walk the both of you to the ocean and when you two get there, in a secret little cove, he decides to try something out. You enjoy it thoroughly.

◙note: I had to hold back on being too gross. Not so gentle reminder: do not post me on tiktok, especially this and my darker content.

When Eren first offered to walk the two of you to the ocean, you denied. Walking that far? Absolutely not. You would prefer to keep your legs on your body.

But then he clarified that he would be using his titan form, and technically all you had to do was hold on to him with ODM gear, that sounds much better.

So here you are, hanging onto the strands of hair of his titan form as the ocean slowly gets bigger and bigger in your field of vision. It’s beautiful, especially from up so high. It sparkles more than any shiny metal you have ever seen, and it is bluer than any eyes you have ever met, it reflects the sun back into your eyes you almost have to squint to see it clearly. Thankfully, Eren’s big head is blocking some of the sun’s reflection from hitting you.

The ODM gear is digging into his skin but you think that he can’t even feel it, like a needle pricking into his skin. The rocking of his titan form could make you fall asleep if you aren’t careful, everything just feels so serene. Quiet. You two do not need to talk, can’t technically, but the silence is still comfortable.

Before you know it you can hear the ocean’s waves and Erens giant titan feet splashing into the water. You want to ask him where you two are going but you know he won’t hear, or wouldn’t be able to respond properly, so you put all your trust in him to keep you safe. Thunderous splashes of the ocean sound so small from where you are and all the blue you admired on the way here could wash you away with home much there simply is. And the smell? Wow, salty, expensive, and so new. There are several smells you aren’t able to recognize, something a little foul but not enough to scare you away, and another thing that smells like some sort of plant but still pure sea.

Wind blowing past you as he walks, curling around your body as you close your eyes and bask in the sunlight and sensations until he stops at a little cove, closed in by rocks and exclusive access to only him or a small boat. The thing is these rocks are too slippery to grab onto, your ODM gear would do fine but not you. Thankfully, Erens sinking down onto his knees in the water so you are closer to the ground of rock, his big hand reaching around so you have some sort of leverage and step to get down. A weird, gentlemanly titan version of an escort that leaves you giggling as you finally step onto the rock.

Everything is so interesting, it’s hard to take in so many new things at once but Eren is right here, right in front of you in all his titan glory which keeps you grounded. His had that helped you down comes around to pull at your gear, an attempt to be gentle but still get his message of ‘Take this off’ across.

“Take off my clothes?” You try to confirm the demand that is leaving your skin warmer than when the sun was hitting it. You figured you two would swim but you also assumed that he would be in his usual, human form. But Eren lets out an affirmative huff which blows your cape and hair back a bit. So you strip as he watches intently, darkened titan eyes observing your little body slowly get naked beside your underwear.

Then he’s gently tracing a large finger to the edge of your panties, a silent demand to take them off too. It’s embarrassing, your whole body is hot and maybe it would be less so if he was his normal size. But his huge titan form feels like a whole audience within those eyes of his. You comply anyways, slipping your underwear off into a small pile away from the wake of the water.

Another huff, more content, as he sits back into the water a bit, lower and closer to you, keeping his hand close to your body as you shift around on your feet. His tongue slips out and he’s leaning closer, the hand behind you coming to bump into the back of your knees and he’s licking your legs, the muscle so strong causing you to fall back into his hand.

Everything he’s doing seems so calculated. His tongues spit covering your legs as you rest into his hand. He’s observing you, checking to see any signs of him being too rough or if you want him to stop but all he sees is you squirming, embarrassed on his rough hand.

You should feel at least a bit ashamed for liking this but seriously, your inner thighs are slowly being drench and it’s not just his spit that’s soaking you or the occasional sprays of the ocean water. You taste salty, and sweet at the same time. Like those expensive candies made of caramel that you can only buy in the inner walls.

Was this his idea all along? To have his tongue licking over your bare cunt as you lay helpless in his hand. One long lick feels good, but then he’s putting the tip of his tongue right over your cunt and pushes, and all the pressure has you grasping onto his fingers as he pulls an abrupt orgasm from you. You cum so hard and so quickly it almost hurts. Tongue still on you as you curse, everything is making your body buzz and sing with the sensations he’s pulling from you. Holy shit. He can pull another orgasm from you easily if he doesn’t stop.

But he keeps his tongue on you, breath huffing over your body keeping you warm as your whole body clenches and is thrown into another orgasm. He brings his other hand from the water to hold you delicately between them, finally pulling back his tongue for a second. You look debauched, soaked in his drool and heaving breaths from cumming so hard and so quickly.

He can see you moaning out something, his name he hopes, as he takes his thumbs across your body, holding you like a doll, rolling his thumbs gently across your breast. No matter how soft he is trying to be it still feels rough. The strength difference and the texture of his skin all add to the buzzing under your skin.

You feel helpless and safe at the same time. As his thumbs travel across your body and press gently in between your legs, he could easily squish you if he wasn’t treating you so softly, so carefully. But your cunt feels so sensitive already, puffy and slick, fluttering around nothing has his tongue strokes over it more.

You let him play with your body, hands caressing his giant fingers as they manipulate and grope you. He cups his hand one more time, you laying in it, and employs his tongue once again. Licking at your legs, hot breath fanning over you again causing all the liquids around you to feel warm again, his tongue works over your chest. Rough skin overstimulating your nipples easily. His movements are attempts of delicacy but he is literally a giant, there is only a small extent of how delicate he can be. Your body is trapped in his cupped hand at the mercy of his tongue. You have never heard yourself moan this loud, maybe it’s an attempt to reach his ears but honestly, it is involuntary at this point. The coarse texture of his tongue glides over your puffy and abused cunt one more time before you are unraveling again, cumming loudly on his tongue once more before his hand is settled to the rocks below.

You settle back against his hand, body exhausted chest rising and falling to try to catch up your thoughts and energy. Until you hear him rip out of the nape. Everything feels just fuzzy like all those orgasms ripped your senses away with them. You don’t even realize Eren is beside you, pulling you up from the slowly steaming palm of his titan’s hand on trembling legs. But then your legs are buckling and he holds you and falls to the rocky ground with you to cushion your fall.

You finally look at him and his face is red down to his chest, eyes struggling on where to look at you because every part of you is alluring right now, completely drenched and toyed with by his titan form. He looks like a wild cat, disheveled, and the titan markings decorating his face don’t help him look sane.

Before you can say anything, Eren is tripping out of his clothes, attempting to throw them into the pile where yours rest against the rocks and away from the water. He’s trailing his hands down your body that’s covered in titan spit and your cum and slick sticking between your legs.

“Can we- can I-” He’s embarrassed to even ask but you get the message into your fuzzy brain. But he’s been toying with you all this time, it’s not unfair to with him back, right?

“Can you what, Eren?” You lean back into the rocks so he can stare at more of your body, “Tell me.”

He knows what you are doing but he falls into the trap nonetheless, “Can we- well can we, you know…” He sighs and hovers over you to look you in the eyes. “Can I fuck you now?” You want to laugh at him, he rarely ever gets shy but in these situations, he can’t help it. You quirk your brow in response, encouraging him to continue and he scoffs.

“Whatever, nevermind,” his threat of not following through usually works to get you to tug him into you, to finally get to the main event going, but this time it doesn’t. He’s too embarrassed to say anything else.

“That’s not gonna work, Eren,” you sing out, “Your titan form gave me a few very nice orgasms, I’m content if we stop.”

He never knew he could be jealous of his titan form but here he is. He was the one doing that to you, not just his titan form, him. That’s what spurs his words on, “Can I please fuck you? While you’re covered in my titans drool that gave you such nice orgasms?” He spits out his words like sour candy.

You throw your arms around his neck as you giggle, “Since you asked so nicely, but you have to do most of the work.” You feel boneless from being manhandled (titanhandled?) and he understands, it’s not like he hasn’t done all the work before. He pulls back to look at your cunt, clenching around nothing and soaked for a multitude of reasons. Fuck, it’s erotic. Swollen and slick, already overstimulated by his titan’s tongue and begging for his cock.

He taps his cock against your sensitive clit and watches your thighs jolt in response. All the liquids easily lube up his cock, sliding it over your clit one more time to see your reaction which makes you jolt a bit from the pleasurable and stinging sensation before he glides his cock into your clenching walls. His head rolls back at the feeling and once he is in all the way, he grasps your hips, digging his blunt nails into your skin to have some leverage, and pulls you into his thrusts. Your cunt is tight and constricting around him and so wet, it’s almost unbearable. Back arching, hands grabbing at his to feel at least a little grounded because you would be sliding against the rocks if it wasn’t for his grip.

“Eren, fuck-” he is using your body, you feel almost limp like a toy as he keeps bringing you down on his cock, the rocks below scratch at your back but the buzz humming through your body makes it hard to care. The overstimulation feels like a pleasant burn throughout your lower half but his cock inside you feels so good and that burning sensation only adds to the pleasure.

The slapping of your thighs hitting is absurdly loud and wet, he is very glad that no one is near the two of you; otherwise, they would get an earful of debauched moans shared between the two of you and the lewd paps intensified by titan spit and your cum.

He’s pushing moans out of you, your cunt tightening as another orgasm and he can feel everything. The soft ridges of your cunt and the soft patch he’s hitting that sends you over, your nails digging into his hands as he stills inside you. The tightening of your cunt sends him into a well-earned orgasm because the whole time his titan form was playing around with your body he’s been hard. Cum filling up your hole and when he finally pulls back he watches your cunt push out his seed that only adds to the mixture of juices surrounding your lower half and pooling below your ass.

Chest heaving, it feels like your whole body is blurry as he lovingly strokes your thighs.

“Are you okay?” It feels like he has finally processed how fucked you looked. Blissed out and leaning back against the rock, you just hum. You can’t even focus your eyes enough to see his red face, embarrassed and blissed out at the same time. He shimmies your body up, propped against his chest, and gradually moves the two of you to the water.

He sits the two of you on a high sitting part of the cove submerged in water. The water feels nice against your tired skin, washing away all the other liquids sticking to you as Eren holds you tightly to his chest as if you will wash away with them. You are glad he’s holding onto otherwise you would be with how lax you are laying against him. He’s starting to feel a little bad but you look so content laying against his chest, eyes closed in content with the salty water cleaning off your body and soaking your sore muscles.

Ah, you could stay like this forever.

/ / :

You’re upset with him, he knows it. You couldn’t even use your ODM gear because of how much he wore you out and you can’t walk properly even a day later. Armin came in to check up on you but he couldn’t even look you in the eye and Mikasa is avoiding your bed like the plague besides bringing you food.

The glare you are sending his way makes him play with his fingers.

“Eren Jaeger…”

He avoids you and looks out the window instead, with his cheeks red and smile faltering across his lips.

“What did you tell them?”

He sucks his lips into his teeth, “I don’t really have to tell them, It’s kind of obvious…”

You throw a pillow at him which he lets hit his face as you both hear footsteps padding down the hallway.

Connie peaks his head in, “Did y’all really go to the ocean to fu-”

Another pillow is thrown. At least they don't know the full story.

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰: @kenmachishi @anzais @novvabeam @armins-bowl-cut @yourtamaki

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 !! 🖤

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Masterlist

It had rained the previous night.

Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

“Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

“And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

“Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much.

Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me.

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

“I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian.

I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap.

Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well.

“Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal.

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow.

“Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down.

I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me.

Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish.

I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said.

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,”

“Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes.

Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,”

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?”

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked.

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled.

I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...”

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed.

“What do you-”

“Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled.

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me.

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

“I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed.

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it.

Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out.

Relief that I could finally be happy.

Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more.

Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before.

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444 @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas @fangirl125reader

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hobi #bts hybrid au

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failedskillcheck · 3 years

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Change with the Tides (Part 1/??)

A/N: Hiya! This is a little thing that I wanted to write, where the reader is a changeling wizard/rouge working for the Gentleman and joins the Mighty Nein! This takes place around 2x14-2x16. I’ll probably write it for the whole campaign.

You grew up in the various orphanages of Wildemont, starting in Port Damali, then Alfeild, Nogvurot, Trostenwald, Rexxentrum, and Deastock, eventually ending up in Zadash.

Due to your race, people found it hard to trust you. You didn’t really blame them, you had been picking pockets since you were seven. In Alfeild, you managed to steal a few spellbooks off of a traveller and began teaching yourself magic. Mostly Illusion spells, but you got your hand on some water-based magic as well.

When you grew out of the system, you were in Zadash, so you went about looking for the Gentleman. By the time you were 23, you had a secure career with him.

That is until a group barged into the underground bar, a strange collection of individuals calling themselves the Mighty Nein… but there were only seven.

From your seat at the bar, you couldn’t see them. You subtly put up your usual disguise, a human woman with brown hair and dark eyes, except you keep the hair a platinum blonde, the closest colour to your true form.

Cree noted one of the adventurers, a purple teifling she called Lucien. The man was a literal peacock. In fact, you’re pretty sure you saw a peacock tattoo creeping up his neck. You noted the others. An aloof half-orc, an energetic blue teifling, a massive woman who could probably crush you, a human woman in Cobalt Soul blue, and a human man in dirty brown clothing, sticking close to a small goblin. The goblin surprised you. You were all too aware of what people thought of monstrous races like hers.

The group went to the Gentlemans’ table, and you snickered, sipping on your drink. Then, Clive comes over and leans over the bar, “He needs you.” You sigh, down the rest of your drink, and walk over to the table, knowing that the drink will be paid off later.

“What’s up Boss?” You say as you reach the table, grabbing the chair closest to him. You’re his best employee. He knows that, everyone here knows that. There’s very little you can’t get away with.

“Ah, Y/N. Meet the Mighty Nein. You may recognize those two,” he gestures to the purple teifling and the monk, “as the two who murdered the High-Rictor. They’ve agreed to do me a favour, in exchange for me clearing their names.”

“So you’re the sorry sods he’s making go to that blasted facility,” you turned your head to the Gentleman, “Let me guess, I’m going with them?”

“You are the one who found it.”

“So when do we leave?” You asked, looking back at the group, who all seemed to be talking to one another. All of them except for the half-orc, who was instead watching you.

“Tomorrow, we need to prepare first.”

The Gentleman waved you off, and you went to your bed in the upper part of the Evening Nip, then preparing some things for your mission tomorrow. You went down to the bar, waiting for the Mighty Nein.

They finally arrived, and they were blindfolded and escorted to a dock, where you parted ways with you’re colleagues and rowed down the river with the Mighty Nein. You led them down the river, not talking and very aware that the half-orc and the monk were watching you. The Nein then decides to pull a race, and the goblin uses her ring of water walking. Until she hits a rock.

As she’s being pulled into the boat, you see a dark mantle drop, wrapping around her head, as well as the man and the half-orc. Luckily, you’re able to defeat them with almost no injuries.

“Those weren’t there before, I swear.” You say as the monk woman accuses you of trying to kill them. As she’s yelling at you, she stops and urges everyone to go faster due to rock monsters.

You drift downward before docking and sitting on the gravel beach as the large woman and blue teifling clear the rockslide.

“Mind telling us your name?” the half-orc asks, sitting beside you,

“Y/N,” you say, looking over, “And no, no last name. What about you?”

“I’m Fjord,” he says, then points to his party, “That there’s Beauregard and Jester. Then Mollymauk and Yasha. Those two are Caleb and Nott.” He pointed to where the goblin was braiding flowers into the man’s hair.

“Right. Apologies for the cave-in, when I first discovered this place, my group got attacked, one of them decide to destroy the wall.”

“Not a problem Y/N!” says Jester, clearing away the last rocks, “See, already cleared”

Mollymauk walks over and offers you his hand to helo you get up, as he does, he pulls you close to whisper in your ear, “Do you have any clue who I was?”

Was. Interesting choice of words, Mr. Mollymauk. “No, Cree seemed to though. So whatever little gang you two were in, I certainly wasn’t a member.”

“Something tells me there’s more to you than meets the eye Y/N, and I for one, am interested to find out what.”

Mollymauk back off at my shocked expression, walking away before saying over his shoulder, “And it’s just Molly, dear.”

We go down the stairs, through many trapped rooms (which Nott kept forgetting to check, leaving you to pick up her slack), Fjord almost falls down a pit, before finally reaching a large chamber.

The first thing you notice in the room is a teleportation circle, though it’s broken. You tell this to the Nein, which makes Caleb give you a quizzical look “And how do you know what a broken teleportation circle looks like?”

“I may be nothing more than a thief, but I am somewhat educated.”

You all begin searching around, and eventually, Caleb finds a journal written in Draconic. As you discuss it, the temperature drops and a skeletal form stretches from the group, ghastly skin stretched over its face.

“My secrets are yours.”

After that, you and the Nein launch into battle, and shockingly, you all fight very well together, working in sync.

You watched Jester sink to the ground, your own head pounding from the mental attacks. Molly charged at the undead Siff Dunder, and you shouted “Finish this Mollymauk!” as you ran towards Jester, giving her a healing potion you kept in your pocket.

The temperature drops again, cold energy emerging from a bookshelf. You can physically see Caleb remembering something, his eyes lighting. He mentions a physical form, like will o’ wisps and you swear under your breath as a series of attacks knocks Yasha unconscious. Jester is by her side instantly, healing her, before she and Beauregard pull down the bookshelf.

A large urn stands amongst pots and small cases, and Molly reaches through and destroys the urn. Siff, who was just attacking you and Fjord as you tried to distract it, disintegrates, and you both breathe a sigh of relief.

You all take a bit of time to collect yourself, and Fjord once again sits beside you, “Alright, I need to know. Why no last name?”

“Never got one.” You said, drinking from your waterskin and checking for any injuries.

“Orphan?”

“Yeah”

You notice a flash of something like sympathy on his face, and but in “I don’t need your pity. I’m perfectly fine without parents.”

“I was gonna say me too.”

You look at Fjord, “Right, sorry.”

Fjord looks like he’s about to ask another question, but you’re interrupted by Nott rubbing oil on herself and squeezing through the hole. Yasha just breaks the wall.

Why was that hot? You think to yourself

You see Nott bent over a case with her thieves tools out, trying to open a lock. Two minutes pass and you hear a gas leak and repeated coughing. “Poison,” she croaks, handing out the jewelry she found, even handing you a piece.

Beauregard searches through the urns, finding a spellbook, which she gives to Caleb. He traces some pattern in the air and finishes the spell, looking around the room. Your back is turned, but he gives you a look, nodding at Beau. You’re definitely hiding abilities other than the rouge ones you’ve displayed.

He points out a sword called the Magicians Judge, which Yasha takes. Molly, Jester, Fjord, and Beau leave to investigate further down the river, while you make camp with Caleb and Nott.

“You know magic,” Caleb says after a long stretch of silence. “How?”

A simple question, but you were reluctant to answer, Fjord already knows too much about you. “I stole some books off of a travelling wizard when I was 15. I was going to sell them, but they seemed interesting, so I taught myself.”

“How old are you?” Nott asked in between sips of her flask.

“23.” You answer, resting your head on your bag.

“What spells do you know?”

“Just a few illusions. Makes thievin’ easier.”

The interrogation seemed to stop then, and a few minutes later, the others return, and you all fall asleep.

You dream of being chased through Alfeild after stealing the books. You ran and ran, jumping on carriages until you deemed yourself far enough away. Late nights of learning magic, trying to get a hold on precious components with no money. Slowly learning.

When you woke up, you realized you shouldn’t have slept around strangers, your true form peeking through. You shift slowly back, keeping your cloak wrapped around you.

“Fjord, you have a little something right here.” Jester says, pointing out the dried blood on the corner of his mouth.”

“Oh, yeah, I grind my teeth,” Fjord explains blushing slightly as he wipes it. As he does you notice his tusks are shorter than other half-orcs you’ve seen.

Jester notices it too and starts questioning him about them. Fjord gets nervous and says “When I was younger, they used to make fun of my teeth, so I got rid of the target.”

“The kids at the orphanage?” You ground out, all too familiar with asshole kids

“Yeah, it just kinda became a habit.”

“Did you ever kill them?” Yasha asked, looking very serious,

Nott quickly became concerned “Yasha. Have you ever killed a kid?”

No answer.

Immediately, the Mighty Nein promised that if he grew them out they’d support him. You had a moment then. These people hadn’t known each other long, minus a couple of obvious pairings, but you could tell they were good people. Certainly better than the Gentleman’s goons.

You all make your way up to the Gentleman’s lair, keeping quiet. You’re lost in thought, right up until you take the blindfold off of the Nein. You pull Fjord aside before he gets to the Gentleman.

“I still have to talk to the Boss about it, but would it be alright if I maybe tagged along with you guys for a bit? You seem like good people, and I think I need a change of company.”

“I’d have to talk to the other, but I don’t have a problem with it. You’re a good fighter Y/N, we could definitely use you.”

You nod and wait for the Mighty Nein to finish the meeting with the Gentleman before you sit down with him.

“Hey, Boss?” You say, waiting for permission to speak, “I was thinking, I might try travelling around a bit. I’ve never been good at staying in one place, you know my past. And those Migh-”

The Gentleman held up a hand, and you felt the entire bar fall silent. He was going to say no, you knew it.

“Y/N, you’ve been my best employee for the last several years. Your talents are unmatchable, and I don’t think I’ll ever find a replacement. But I get it. A change of pace is always needed. Go pack up your things, and don’t worry about your bar tab, I’ll pay.” He slid a pouch of gold across the table, “Here’s a little something to start you off.”

Holy shit.

“Thank you, sir.”

The Gentleman nodded, and you ran to pack your things. Fjord said something about the Leaky Tap, so you headed over. Right away, Jester threw her arms around you.

“Welcome to the Mighty Nein!”

#mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #jester lavorre #fjord stone #beauregard lionett #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #nott the brave #Change With The Tides #fanfiction #Critical role #this wasn't supposed to be so long

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justbreakonme · 2 years

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Outcast and Bully hate each others guts. They are at the same school. Then, everyone goes on a school trip and there's an activity on rafts. The two end up far from everyone else. Maybe outcast is told to stay back for his allergies or the like. Bully can't swim but never ever tell anyone about it. Anyway, they still end up on a raft and outcast has to save Bully despite their dislike. In the end, Bully is so grateful that they start protecting them from the others

“Are you not going to paddle?”

“I’m untying the boat, if it’s still tied, paddlings not gonna help.”

Bully didn’t answer, instead deciding to smack outcasts shoulder with the wet end of the paddle, knocking the knot they were working on out of their hands.

Outcast simply sighed, trying to let go of the tension that stiffened their whole body. Teachers had always paired them with the “bad kids” to “help them”, and they were getting tired of it.

Finally, finally, they got the knot undone and they were off.

The current was rather slow, but it seemed like most of the rest of the class was already far ahead.

“Hurry up, the faster we get this over with, the better.”

“I’m paddling, you’re paddling, what else is there to do?”

“Paddle faster.”

“I’m paddling at a normal speed,” Outcast turned back to Bully behind them, “If you keep paddling so fast you’re gonna cause us to turn and hit something.”

“I’m gonna paddle as fast as I want, and if you don’t wanna turn you should hurry up. I didn’t wanna do this dumb shit anyway!”

Outcast sighed and paddled faster. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner Billy would leave them alone, sort of.

At least they wouldn’t be trapped on a boat together anymore.

“Hurry up!”

“Slow down!” Outcast snapped, “You’re gonna cause us to hit something! Not everyone can-“

Outcasts point was proven as the raft plowed into the side of a protruding rock, flipping both of them into the water.

Oh, Outcast was going to kill Bully. Why did no one ever listen to them, why?

Outcast bobbed to the surface, ready to give Bully a piece of their mind, but…

Bully wasn’t there.

“Bully? Bully!”

They stared around, catching a rope from the kayak as it nearly drifted away in the current.

“Bully!”

Finally, they caught a glimpse of Billy’s red shirt. Only, it looked to be about 6 feet under water…

Dropping the kayak, Outcast dove down to see Bully frantically trying to push themselves up to the surface.

Bully couldn’t swim…

Outcast hated Bully, but…

They swam down further, grabbing Bully by the arm and shoving them upward with all their strength.

God, how were they going to do this? Bully was at least a foot taller than them, stronger too.

But they pushed anyway, and through the blur of the water in their eyes, saw Bully’s head break the surface above them.

They swam up too, struggling to keep Bully from sinking again.

“I can’t-“ Bully was gasping and trying to stay afloat, wildly waving their arms in legs in a desperate attempt to stay above water, “I can’t-“

Outcast stared around in desperation, and their eyes landed on the very thing that had caused this situation. The rock.

Trying to grab Bully’s arm was another thing, as their flailing was barely halting them stay afloat, but it was making it very hard for Outcast to grab them.

“Stay still! Give me your hand-“ Outcast shouted, but nothing. Finally, they caught the sleeve of Bully’s shirt just before the water overwhelmed them, and gathered a handful of fabric and pulled.

Bully all but slammed into the rock face first, but had the good sense to cling on for dear life, gasping and spitting out water.

“You dumbass!” Outcast shouted, when they finally caught their breath, “Why didn’t you say that you didn’t know to swim?! They have life jackets for a reason! You could have gotten us both killed you stupid, stupid-“

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Bully panted, “I thought it would be okay, I-“

“Thought?! You thought?!? Since when do you think about anything?!”

The shouting and possibly the empty kayak had finally drawn a supervisors attention, and as a rescue boat drove towards them, Bully actually looked Outcast in the face. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“You should be.”

Sitting on the dock wrapped in blankets wasn’t the worst thing that could happen after nearly drowning. But answering park rangers questions over what had happened certainly was getting close.

Outcasts head was spinning and they were exhausted, and from the sound of it, they were gonna be here for hours while the rest of the class went home.

“Name and age please?” someone else asked for the millionth time.

“Do none of you talk to each other? I swear I’ve told everyone here my name, age, school, and everything else, do you wanna know what kind of underwear I’m wearing too?” Outcast was close to snapping, they just wanted to go home.

“I just have to confirm, I’m sorry-“

Bully, who had been off somewhere else (where, Outcast didn’t care), came around the corner, and said something to someone, and then people went away, oh thank god.

Outcast was almost grateful for Bully, until they remembered why they were still there.

They just put their head in their hands, and waiting.

“Outcast?” Bully asked tentatively, “I brought you a snack…”

Outcast looked up, and blanked. They’d never seen Bully without a glare or some kind of mocking smile. Now, standing before them holding out a pack of trail mix and a beef jerky stick, Bully couldn’t have looked more different.

“Thanks.”

Outcast took both gratefully and Bully took the seat next to them.

“I’m sorry, that this happened,” Bully managed, “And thank you, for…that.”

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me…” they started, but for some reason, it didn’t feel right.

“Bully, I’d do it again. But let’s not have a repeat, okay? Please?” Outcast chuckled, “If I have to look at anymore deer heads and wood paneling in this office, I’ll drown myself in the sink.”

“We won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

(It’s a lil short and ragged but I’m hoping it makes sense lol, thanks @mmhtastywhump )

#literally just pulled this outta my ass #my roommate is playing Little Hope #so I’m imagining Anthony as Outcast #and Daniel as Bully #just in looks really #whump #bully #outcast #thanks for the ask!#tw drowning #enemies to friends trope #caretaker

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boldlyanxious · 3 years

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As you Wish

Jasonette July prompt 20: then perish

July masterlist

All masterlist

Jason was traveling around but he would still hear reports from home whenever anything major happened. He had never intended to stay away but nothing had ever brought him back. He had a great love but he stopped hearing from her years ago. He left to make enough money to keep her safe but today was the first time in a long time he heard anything about her.

It was a major Headline when the French King, Hawkmoth decided that his son would marry a commoner. They were pictured together and he could see his Marinette there with Prince Adrien. She was even more beautiful than he remembered and he found he could not keep himself away. He had to find out why he had not heard from her in 5 years and now she would be marrying someone else. Maybe it was never about the money he could make and she loved being called Princess Marinette.

---

Marinette despised being a princess. There were too many rules to follow. Adrien seemed nice enough so she could not complain about that. He was skilled and handsome. Exactly the man that most of the maidens in the kingdom wanted to marry. She always had to watch out for those who would hate her for her new status. King Hawkmoth was the one calling all the shots and Prince Adrien went along with all his decrees because he wanted to make him happy. She wished she had met him before the death of his mother. The wistful tone he used when he spoke of her made her think that things had been much different when she was alive.

As much as this life was every girl’s dream, Marinette longed for escape. She would often slip away to quiet places to draw and dream of the quiet life she was supposed to have with Jason. She was going to be a seamstress and he was going to join the Brute Squad. The leader already was impressed with his skills even though he had only worked as a farmer. He thought Jason would do well and could maybe even help with skills training.

She looked down at her sketchbook. She had drawn a very pretty dress but it was much too simple for the garments she was supposed to wear as a princess. But there in the corner was the face of Jason she had drawn, looking back at her. She had been devastated to receive the news of his death. King Hawkmoth had explained everything that had happened after finding out the ship full of trainees for the Brute Squad had been found. No one was left. It was years later that he suggested to her as a bride for his son. It would be an event that was celebrated throughout the kingdom.

---

Jason didn’t know what was happening. He had been so close to seeing Marinette again. He watched her and she was completely at peace and all alone. He couldn’t help but be stunned at her beauty even from far away. But as he watched, he realized she was wiping away tears. He wondered what had happened that would make her cry. He wished he could wipe away her tears and keep her from ever feeling that way again. He was preparing himself to rush over there and find out what was wrong. He knew it was wrong to hope that she would fall into his arms and give up her royal dreams but his heart and arms ached with the desire.

But while she sat there she was attacked. She was barely able to get out half a scream before the sound stopped and she collapsed. One of the 3 carried her unconscious form away onto a ship. He followed hoping to find a way to protect his love, even if she would eventually leave him. He could not allow anything to happen to her. He knew he would sacrifice his own happiness to protect her; the world was a better place with her in it.

---

Marinette came to and looked around her. She didn’t know what was going on and she struggled to remember. Lila seemed to think that if she killed Marinette she would get to become the princess and marry Prince Adrien. Marinette didn’t know if that was true. She had only agreed because the King had not given her any other option. He told her a young, beautiful girl like her could not go the rest of her life unmarried. He had many merchants and artisans ask after her to see if she could be married since she no longer had relatives to decide for her. The King made it a law that royalty could choose to marry a commoner, nothing was said about how the other person could refuse. Prince Adrien did not lack for ladies of higher rank wishing to marry him as she continually was told. She suspected that there was some other reason the King had chosen her, likely that she had no other options and therefore would be easier to control. She had no family or money to protect herself.

Lila turned to argue with Dick and Tim about what would happen to her. She apparently had not told them everything about her plans. Marinette knew Lila would not believe that she would prefer to not marry Adrien if she just had a way to get away from Paris. They argued about how to get a war started with Gotham and just how far Lila was willing to go to get her prince. Marinette allowed her head to thunk back against the side of the ship. She closed her eyes as she did at some point every day and thought of her lost love.

Some days she could sink fully into her daydream and remember all their plans of life together. She had become a clothing maker after her parents had died. It was one of the few things she had the ability to do to make money. Jason was a farmer and he would farm her land and he raised sheep to turn to wool. After a while they began working together. She would spin his wool to make cloth and he would bring her the food she needed. Little changes over time where he complained about his bread so the next day she made him bread and a lunch to take while farming. They went from seeing each other only for business to nearly every day. Marinette asked if he would bring her water from the well. When he returned with it he stepped close to her and looked in her eyes.

“As you wish,” he whispered.

She knew right then that he would do anything for her. But also that she would do anything for him. What had been moments of convenience to help both of them survive alone led to their lives intertwining in ways she never expected. She couldn’t live without him. She was alive and surviving but even 5 years later she ached for missing him.

She pulled herself out of her head to hear her kidnappers arguing again. They sure did that a lot. She looked around when she realized they were arguing about another boat that was following them. Someone who knew she was there and in danger. She watched them for a moment and realized they were all distracted. She knew the water would be icy cold, but this may be her only shot. Even if it was the King's guards coming to rescue her back to their chosen life for her, it would be better than whatever Lila planned for her.

She jumped off the ship and swam away. She was a decent enough swimmer but she wasn’t sure her skills would get her to the other ship with all the waves. Lila called out tauntingly about the shrieking eels in the water. She froze as the words came to life and one of the animals charged her with a wide mouth open showing off a horrifying amount of large teeth. She could smell the breath of the animal and the water splashed against her closed eyes. She was shocked when instead of being bitten she was pulled back out of the water by Dick.

“I suppose you think you are brave,” Lila said cattily.

“Only compared to some,” Marinette replied.

She looked away. It had nothing to do with what had happened. For a brief moment, even when she was in the water she felt closer to Jason. Maybe it was because she almost died. But now she was back here with people who planned be the cause of her death and she felt nothing. She was consumed by the sudden emptiness that she had lived with since the death of her fiance.

---

Jason watched as Marinette swam toward his ship. He was so excited. She would be back with him, in his arms and they could sail away together. Maybe to Gotham. They would not have the life they dreamed but they would be together. But within a few minutes one of the men had dragged her back to the ship. He could see they were headed to the Cliffs of Blüdhaven. He would not manage to over take the ship before they reached them. He would have to climb up after them. Most would not be able to make the climb but he had trained hard in the years he was gone. He would recover her.

By the time he made it to the base of the cliffs they were halfway up with her. He felt sure they had some sort of gadget that made it possible. He could tell she was not climbing herself and it appeared only one was doing so. He hadn’t planned to have any assistance but he was a good climber so he got started right away. He made a very fast start. The bottom had a lot of rocks to help him get going so it was the middle section and after they reached the top he would have to worry about. He could see where there were more handholds near the top. He would just have to make it that far before they reached the top. He was sure they would cut the rope off when they made it to the top. That is exactly what he would do.

He made it. He was even further up than he expected when the rope slipped from his grasp. He clung tightly to the rocks and made sure he was secure before he continued climbing. He could hear their excited exclamations up there but not what they were saying. Then it got quiet before a voice hollered down.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

"What does it look like?"

He grumbled to himself about the person. That are probably trying to get him to fall.

"I'm gonna drop this rope down to you."

"Wouldn't it be faster if I just jumped off."

"I get what it looks like, but I'm trying to help you."

"Yeah, right."

"I could give you my word as an American."

"No good. I've known too many Americans."

"You have to trust me."

"Actually I don't."

"I swear on the soul of my father Bruce Wayne, you will reach the top alive."

"Okay. Throw me the rope."

Jason climbed up the rest of the way and prepared to face off with the man left to kill him.

---

Marinette was out of breath by the time she got the chance to sit. They dragged her up the cliffs and then they moved on as Tim fought the masked man. They watched as the two fought and then when Tim was knocked out Marinette was blind folded and hands bound so she couldn't see or run from Lila. Dick was left to take care of the masked man and Lila dragged her further along until she sat her down, reminding Marinette with the press of her dagger that she was still in charge.

Marinette waited in silence which was fine with Lila, she liked to talk and be heard. Suddenly the other girl silenced herself and called out that she would kill Marinette if the man took another step.

As they talked and bartered Marinette tried to decide what she wanted to happen. She knew Lila was planning to kill her as part of some plot she had devised but she was no longer sure that the masked man was coming to save her for her own benefit. If push came to shove, she may be better off with Lila than the unknown man who definitely was stronger than her and a skilled fighter.

She listened when the masked man offered his challenge. Lila did live to prove she knew everything so she spent several minutes talking about all the ways she was smarter than him. Marinette couldn’t actually tell what was going on but a moment later she could tell that both of them had completed the challenge and drank from the glasses. Lila had the last laugh. Or her last laugh. She was cackling in victory and then suddenly silent. There was a thump when she fell over, away from the table.

---

Jason carefully removed the blindfold from Marinette and led her away. He knew at some point he would have to return her to her life but he wanted to drag out their time together if he could. He responded to her questions with terse, non-emotional answers. He threw the prince as her rescuer back in her face and she scoffed. He couldn’t believe his ears when she said that she wasn’t marrying the prince because of love.

“The only man I could ever love is dead and there is nothing worse you could do to me.” she said.

Jason looked down at Marinette’s furious eyes as she talked about the love he could never know. He knew she was talking about him and he could see their eyes connect. He was lost in her eyes as he realized she had recognized him. He knew exactly how he would respond. He mentally shook himself to pay attention to her when she was talking. He realized that he may have been mistaken about her recognizing him. She shoved him hard.

“Then perish,” she said venomously.

Jason tumbled down the hill behind him with the force of the shove.

“As..

You..

Wish..”

His last thought tumbled out as he rolled down the hill. It wasn’t until he was at the bottom that he realized she had thrown herself after him. He met her at the bottom of the hill. She could clearly see him now, his mask had fallen off on the way down. He reached for her and she moved to meet him. He pulled her close and she pushed him back towards the ground and kissed him. All should be right now that they were together again.

---

bonus scene:

“Jason, what about the R.O.U.S's?”

“Rodents of unusual size are just called capybaras. They are basically just really big hamsters.”

Taglist

#jasonette july 2021 #maribat #princess bride crossover #jasonette #boldlyanxious

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loove-persevering · 4 years

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I Know You (JJ x Reader)

Description: [Request] Hi! I was wondering if you could do a jj imagine where you’re in an argument and he raises his hand and you flinch bc you think he’s gonna hit you, and it makes him tear up.

I LOVEEE writing for JJ! Hope you all enjoy!

JJ was a force to be messed with, that was just a quick way of how to describe him. He would always stick up for his friends in a time of need no matter the cost on his behalf. So when you were at work bussing tables you knew that JJ and the rest of your friends had headed down to a party at the beach. Of course you wanted to come with but you had to earn some cash for a car so you didn’t have to bike everywhere.

When you finally got off on your break you had multiple text from people claiming your boyfriend was batshit crazy. Confused you kept reading through them when you finally found one about how he had first held Topper at gun point and then shot it off multiple times. Even though you were pissed you went back to work finishing off your shift, now you were on your bike heading to John B’s house knowing that is exactly where JJ would be hiding out now.

When you pull onto the dirt road finally seeing the lights on in the house and the van parked off to the side you knew that he was here. You jump off your bike letting it fall to the ground making your way inside, you don’t even bother knocking at this point. ‘’Hello?’’ You say when you walk in not seeing them in the living room. ‘’JJ?’’ You call out. ‘’John B?’’

You sigh walking through every room of the house and not finding them anywhere opening every door hoping to find your boyfriend. The last place you could check was out back on the small dock, so you make your way out pushing against the screen door and heading out back. When you finally found the four of them huddled around back you saw them all breath a sigh of relief when they notice it was you, more than likely expecting the cops.

‘‘Expecting someone else?’‘ You ask staring straight at JJ. They all shake their head no, ‘’Cops maybe?’’ You ask.

‘‘What did you hear?’‘ Pope asks his head falling against his hands resting them on his knees.

‘‘Just that my boyfriend held someone at gun point tonight,’‘ You say simply and JJ groans turning around on his heels, ‘‘And that he shot the gun off multiple times!’‘ You yell out making sure he heard you.

‘‘It was twice,’‘ He says turning back around.

‘‘Twice?’‘ You say crossing your arm, ‘‘That’s not too bad I guess.’‘ When you look up JJ was looking at you shocked, ‘‘Oh wait, it actually is bad because you aren’t suppose to have a gun in the first place!’‘ You yell at him. ‘’I mean what the hell JJ, a gun? Where did you even get it?’’ You ask him.

You hear a whistle and glance over seeing John B standing up from where he was sitting, ‘’Think we should give the two love birds some time alone,’’ He says patting his knees with his hands. ‘’Let’s go,’’ He mouths to Kie and Pope. They all look at you on the way out but your gaze stays on JJ who was completely avoiding yours.

‘‘Can you just-’‘ You pause holding your hand to your head, ‘‘Can you just explain what you were thinking?’‘ You ask him. ‘‘Where did you even get a gun?’’

‘‘I found it,’‘ He says shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. You glance at him knowing there was more to the story than just that. He groans his head falling back looking up to the sky, ‘’John B and me we found a key to this hotel room and-’’

‘’You broke in?’’ You yell completely taken back.

He scrunches up his face, ‘’I mean we had a key,’’ He says simply. You could already tell this story was going to be too much to handle, ‘’We found the key and we went to tell the guy about his boat-’’

‘’His boat? What about his boat?’’ You ask. He sighs, ‘’Just start from the beginning.’’

‘’We were out on the water today and we found a sunken boat, John B went down and found a key.’’ He begins. ‘’We decided to go to that hotel to check it out and it was empty and we found a bunch of cash and the gun and the cops came and so we had to hide.’’ He tells you, your eyes widening at the mention of the cops. ‘’Hold on-’’ He says holding up his finger to you, ‘’Before you say anything, they took money themselves too, I don’t know anything about why they were there!’’ He says.

You walk over sitting down in the chair next to the fire, ‘’What happened at the beach?’’ You ask him trying to stay calm.

‘’Topper was being a dick to John B and we just offered sara a drink, and Topper started drowning him talking about his dad,’’ He begins to say and you fell a little more sympathetic knowing JJ had only the best intentions to protect his friend. ‘’If I hadn’t I’m not sure what would’ve happened.’’ He says bringing his hands to the front of his body fumbling with his hands.

You stand up walking over to JJ, ‘’You have to go turn the gun in JJ,’’ You sigh.

‘’Why?’’ He asks sounding slightly offended.

‘’Why? Because JJ! If cops were there, it must be a crime scene or something!’’ You explain to him. ‘’If they find out you were there and took a gun-’’ You start off but JJ’s facial expression says something else, ‘’You did only take a gun right?’’ You ask.

‘’Some cash too,’’ He says shyly.

‘‘Dammit JJ!’‘ You groan, ‘‘What is wrong with you? Why would you tamper with something like that?’‘ You ask him. ‘‘You could go to jail- you all could!’‘ You tell him.

‘’You don’t think I know that!’’ He says his voice growing louder. He laughs in disbelief kicking a rock out of the way.

‘‘You held a guy at gun point tonight JJ, a kook to be exact! You don’t think that anythings going to come of that?’‘ You ask him. ‘‘I know Topper is a dick but-’‘

‘‘He was drowning John B!’‘ He yells. ‘‘Drowning him-’‘ He yells waving his arms in the air gesturing to inside the house, ‘‘The things he was saying, the way he was holding him-’‘ He tells you.

‘‘You couldn’t knock him down? Pull him off? You had to hold a gun to his head? There was no other option?’‘ You ask.

He groans again taking a step forward, it happened so quickly you felt yourself flinch thinking his hand was going to hit you when he was waving it around, ‘’He was drowning-’’ He was in the middle of saying but stopped when he saw your face.

‘‘What?’‘ You ask him confused as to why he stopped talking.

You see him bite his bottom lip and he takes his hat off running his hand through his hair before putting it back on, his hands resting behind his neck. ‘’You thought-’’ He pauses and you can hear his voice break slightly, ‘’You think I was going to hit you?’’ He asks.

‘‘I just- Your hand was waving around,’‘ You explain to him standing completely still watching him in slight distress.

‘‘I would never-’‘ He begins to say but loses his words, he raises his hand pointing at you then his hand falls back against his leg, ‘‘I would never hit you,’‘ He says breathlessly.

You stare at him in shock, ‘’I know that,’’ You say softly unsure of how to handle what was happening.

‘‘Never Y/N, I would never,’‘ He repeats.

‘‘JJ I know that-’‘ You begin to say.

‘‘Then why would you flinch?’‘ He asks you shaking his head not meeting your eye, ‘‘I mean just why would you flinch like that?’‘ You could see the tears begin to form in his eyes as he finally made eye contact with you. You walk over to him trying to grab ahold of his hand but he jerks it away.

‘‘JJ,’‘ You say cautiously. He looks away from you his expression hard and cold, you slowly put your hand across his cheek and then the other so you were caressing his face. You pull on it ever so lightly so he was looking at you, his eyes were filled with tears a sorrowful expression on his face, ‘‘Look at me please,’‘ You whisper to him. ‘’I know you would never hit me,’’ You tell him staring straight into his eyes, ‘’I know you JJ, I know you would never.’’

He sniffles slightly and you reach up wiping a tear that had fallen from his eye, ‘’You flinched,’’ He says his voice undercut with broken up bits as if he couldn’t catch his breath from his heavy breathing.

‘‘You were waving your hands around, I didn’t think it would be intentional.’‘ You explain to him. You were still holding his face his hands were at his sides almost as if he was afraid to touch you, like he was scared if he did you would pull away. You take your hands away from his cheeks and grab his hands bringing them together behind your back so he was holding you, then you wrap your arms back around his neck staring back at him. He looked so fragile in this moment, as if he was broken by the fact you thought it was a possibility he would actually hit. you. ‘‘I know you JJ, better than I’ve known anyone in my life.’‘ You explain to him. ‘‘Your stubborn, a little impulsive, a little wild at times,’‘ You start off listing qualities about him, ‘‘But you’re also protective of the things you love, someone who gives everything with their whole heart, and someone I know could never ever hurt me, ever.’‘

He stays silent for a minute just staring at you, his expression wasn’t easily readable and you had no idea what was going on in his head. ‘’Can you stay here tonight?’’ He asks barely above a whisper.

‘‘Of course,’‘ You say finally pulling him in for a hug. You pull on him so he moves forward into the hug and he doesn’t really hug you back for the first few seconds. Finally you feel him sink into the hug pulling you against him tightly as he lets out a deep breath that he had seemed to be holding.

_____

A/N: I loveee writing for JJ this might be my favorite thing I’ve written yet;’) JJ is such an interesting character I’m excited to write more for him! If you have a request they’re open!

Thank you for reading!

#jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #rudy #rudy pankow imagines #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #obx #outer banks #the outer banks #jj outer banks #netflix #netflix original

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sunflowersupremes · 3 years

Text

Entreat

You shall find little pity, though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you.

Characters: Maglor, Earendil, Elwing, Elrond, Celebrían, Erestor, Glorfindel, Egalmoth, Finrod

Tags: Fourth Age, Sailing To Valinor, Kidnapping, This time it’s Maglor getting kidnapped, Arda is an escape room and Earendil has the emergency escape button, Earendil sneaks his son’s father into Valinor, Manwë is just done with the entire line of Finwe at this point, Elwing is just along for the ride (literally)

Read on AO3

At some point, it seemed, he had lost track of the years. It was well into the Fourth Age, perhaps even the Fifth, and all seemed well in the world. Sauron was gone, a houseless spirit who would never again take shape. Morgoth, too, was gone, trapped beyond the Doors of Night.

Even Cirdan, the only elf he had had any contact with in his long years of solitude (not because he had invited him) was gone. He knew only because the aged Shipwright had suddenly stopped leaving parcels of food and then the Grey Havens had finally crumbled to dust.

The world was peaceful and quiet.

And Makalaurë was dying.

It hadn’t been an Orc - they were gone as well - or a wild beast or even a mortal with a violent streak. No, Makalaurë Feanorian had stumbled in the dark, fallen to the bottom of a cliff, and the tide was rising.

He had fallen in the night, and when the sun had come up he’d realized how helpless his situation was. The small rock he was lying on jutted at least a foot out of the water, but with the tide… soon it would be engulfed.

I shall join my Silmaril then, in the depths at long last. And my brothers too, in Mandos, and there we shall remain, I imagine, until the unbreaking of the world.

It wasn’t that he was keen to die, or that he had given up, but his leg was shattered and there was no way off the rock he had landed on. The water was too choppy to swim, even without his shattered leg, and the cliff to steep to climb for a man who only had one functioning hand.

There was a ship in the distance, but he could not raise his voice enough to call it.

He wondered what Mandos was like, and remembered the Doom that had been put upon him:

‘your houseless spirits shall come then to Mandos. There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity, though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you.’

Ha! No one would entreat for him.

He would remain there, in the haunted depths of that place, until the Breaking of the World. Perhaps… perhaps they would even forget to Sing of him, in the Second Song, and let his soul simply slip away into nothingness.

That would not be so bad.

Was he hallucinating or was the little boat coming closer?

Maglor managed to raise his head, startled to see that, in the time he’d been contemplating his own death, the little boat was coming steadily closer.

Perhaps… perhaps he was not destined for Mandos just yet?

The man at the helm was young, his eyes gleaming, blonde hair blowing in the breeze. He was beautiful, but mortal.

It came to a stop beside him, but Maglor found his throat was still too dry to speak, barely able to raise one hand in greeting.

“Hail and well met!” called his rescuer. It was a mortal tongue, although the dialect had seemingly shifted since the last time Maglor had heard it. He was able to follow along well enough though.

The boat was secured to a rock, and the man jumped out, landing lightly beside Maglor, helping him to sit up. “Steady,” he murmured.

Maglor’s head spun, the world around him growing blurry.

“I have you, brother,” the man said quietly, crouching beside Maglor, sliding his hands under his legs and shoulders, carefully lifting him up.

He moaned as his leg was jostled.

The boat was larger than he’d realized, though it was still a brave little thing, with a cabin that Maglor was carried to. It was a good thing he’d been the smallest of his brothers, otherwise a mortal would never have been able to pick him up.

“I saw your fall,” the man said, bringing him a glass of water and holding it to his lips. “I thought to go on, that there was no chance you had survived-“ he shook his head. “And then I told myself, ‘no, no you must go for him, for if not you then who?’ “

No one, thought Maglor glumly.

“No one,” agreed the man, as though he had heard his thoughts. “For no one else could have reached you before the tide.”

The tea tasted faintly of herbs and he found himself growing more relaxed, his body begging for the bliss of sleep. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but his rescuer waved his hand, as though urging him to sleep.

As he drifted into unconsciousness, he thought he heard the man say, “No one else, I think, would even have tried.”

When he awoke his leg was wrapped and propped on a pillow. The boat was swaying slightly, rocking on the waves, and he imagined he was going to be dropped off on the nearest stretch of shore.

Very well.

It was more of a chance than he deserved, and he would savor it. The cabin was sparsely decorated. Just a bed, a desk, and a chest. Nothing seemed to signify where the man was from, or what the purpose of the little boat was. It didn’t seem to be a fishing boat. For pleasure, then? He could be a lordling who simply enjoys the sea.

Maglor laid on his back, studying the ceiling until the door finally opened and his rescuer stepped inside. Beyond him, Maglor could see miles of open water.

“You’re awake!”

“Tha- thank you,” Maglor choked out. His throat was sore from Ages of abuse and a lack of decent folk to make conversation with, but he managed anyway.

“Of course,” said the man easily. He brought Maglor more tea and helped him to sit up to swallow it.

Maglor pointed to the door, uncertain how to communicate that he needed to leave before he brought any Doom upon his rescuer.

“No, no,” said the man, “Stay here and rest a while, brother. Shore is a ways off yet, I should think.” He tucked the blankets around Maglor with surprising gentleness before slipping back out of the cabin as the medication once again sent Maglor to sleep.

A storm started up that night, tossing their brave little boat in great huge waves that reminded Maglor of the sinking of Beleriand or the fall of Numenor.

His rescuer came inside the cabin to shelter with him, soaked from having struggled to get the sail down so it wouldn’t rip. “I knew it was coming,” he said ominously. “The birds scattered.”

Was that some sort of Mortal saying? Maglor frowned, then groaned and attempted to push himself upright. He had to do something, after all, the man had saved him from a long and very wet death. The least he could do was ask Ulmo to maybe have a bit of pity on this child of Eru.

He wasn’t certain the Vala would listen, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, as long as he was careful how he worded the request and made sure to exaggerate that it wasn’t for his own benefit.

“Easy there,” said the man, pushing him back into bed as he tried to sit. “Stay down.”

Weakly he pointed across the room, where he’d noticed a flute earlier in the day. The power of Elves had once been well known, hopefully those tales had remained and the man would know what he wanted to do. His harp was long gone, but he could make due…

But the man shook his head. “You cannot Sing away this storm, I am afraid.”

“I can,” he whispered, willing the man to understand that he was not just any elf. “I can calm it-“ his voice broke and he struggled to cough “-perhaps a little.”

He was given a sad smile and a squeeze on his shoulder. “Rest, brother.”

The storm was gone by morning, and Maglor was again alone in the dark little cabin. The mortal had gone outside as soon as it had calmed, only returning some time later to say, “We’ve been blown off course, but it won’t be hard to correct.”

“The seas are calm,” Maglor croaked. The boat had ceased it’s incessant rocking.

“Lord Manwë is in a merciful mood this morning, it seems.” A man of Gondor then, if he knew the old tales.

Maglor studied him, then quietly said, “Lord Manwë is seldom in such a mood.”

The man’s laugh almost seemed nervous, although who wouldn’t be frightened by the Light of the Trees that still shone from Maglor’s eyes? Even if he had met elves before, those that remained were not exiles like Maglor, but rather elves of the Greenwood.

“Rest brother,” he said, then nodded his head and slipped back outside. He heard a key turn in the lock.

Maglor was out of bed in an instant, ignoring the pain in his leg. He didn’t like being locked up, even by foolish and well-meaning mortals. Perhaps I made him nervous when I sought to calm the storm last night. And clearly he was not pleased when I spoke of Lord Manwë. He must not have realized the full danger of what he had saved.

But he wasn’t about to stay locked up for long. He needed to know why it was taking so long to get to shore. He’d thought the man would drop him at the earliest convenience, but instead it seemed he’d decided to either take Maglor to civilization or hang onto him until he healed. Neither one would do.

The door was locked - and damn it, why? - but he was a son of Feanor, he’d learned to pick locks in infancy, and soon he had the door open.

Maglor stepped outside and froze.

They were not in the ocean at all, but rather sailing in a sea of stars. Realization dawned.

“Ah,” said the-rescuer-who-was-clearly-Earendil-son-of-Tuor nervously, stroking the head of a white-bird-that-was-probably-the-woman-Maglor-had-once-tried-to-kill that rested on the ship’s rail. “I wondered when you might try that.”

The Fic has several more chapters on AO3 than it does on here.

#maglor #earendil #elwing #elrond #kidnap dads #erestor #glorfindel #silmarillion #silmarillion fanfic #my writing #tolkien fanfic #story: entreat

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vanillann · 3 years

Text

this town (s.w.)

a/n: first ever sam fic and i lowkey really like it

sam wilson x gender neutral reader

word count:

sam wilson masterlist

I dropped my bag in the passager seat as I raced to Sarah’s side, letting my hands grab the box that was slowly slipping from the top of the pile in her hands.

“Oh thank God- (Y/N)!”

I smiled, taking my place beside Sarah as we walked to an open table that had a few men from the docks I remembered from years of coming by.

“You know, gravity is still a thing, and what you were trying to do is damn near impossible,” I placed the box on the table and let my arms wrap around her shoulders tightly.

“Don’t you go talking about impossible, you managed to keep this place in check for five years with no help,” Sarah pulled back, taking my face in her hands while she quickly looked me over. I rolled my eyes but felt the pride swell in my chest.

The five years within the blip was hard, very clearly, but I and two other boat owners managed to keep the place in tack until everyone came back from God knows where.

“I’ve missed you.”

Sarah smiled, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight while it beat down on us in the Louisiana air. It would’ve close to perfect if it wasn’t for the strong scent of fish and men yelling over boats, but it was just like it had always been. My family debating with the Wilson’s over who made better sweet tea while Sam and I would throw sweet potatoes at one another, it wasn’t a fun game but a game nonetheless.

“I’ve missed you more,” Sarah pulled me back once more before the roar of an engine dragged us from our sweet moment. I looked up, seeing the tail lights of a truck I haven’t seen in years flash us as it came down the dirt path.

“Sam’s here?”

“Apparently,” Sarah placed a hand on her hip, her sisterly glare still in tack after all these years as Sam’s truck parked and the door swung open.

I wasn’t prepared to see him in all his ‘superhero’ glory, but I suppose I never would be as his smile was brighter than ever. He hugged an old family friend, his arms wrapping around them like a warm blanket on a cold evening and I wondered how I haven’t thought about him in so long. How had I forgotten his remarks and his checky little laugh?

“There she is!”

I considered running around the tent that had been set up and hiding until I could safely run to my car but I heard one of Sarah’s boys yell out my name and suddenly most eyes were on me.

“There is my favorite boy!”

I leaned down to hug him, I wanted to run and hide but I wasn’t going to ignore him, the price of love.

“(Y/N)?”

I cringed, holding on to the boy in front of me a little tighter before he let go running to his uncle. A goofy smile was on his face as to he almost fell running but Sam only smiled, looking me over once, before his nephew gained his attention.

I could count it outright, make a run for it maybe and never have to see the boy how I almost waited for once he joins the Air Force.

“Will you help me?”

I turned around, an older man struggling with some boxes and he couldn’t move them all. I sighed, walking over with my best smiling and sliding the box with the older man while we made it to his ship. Once we were done he gave me a large smile and handed me a five-dollar bill, when I tried to give it back he refused.

I spun on my heels, frowning when I spotted Sam walking in my direction.

I could’ve made a run for it, I know I could’ve made it.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing, Sam,” his name felt foreign on my tongue, let a broken promise that I refused to speak of, that’s exactly what he was.

“Well, I came to see Sarah!”

He still had the gentle charisma he had as a kid, his goofy bright smile that ran in the family, and his perfect brown eyes you never want to stop looking into.

“Well, great minds think alike,” I rocked back and front, wondering how we went from everything to nothing without barely a letter in between.

“Yeah, yeah I suppose.”

The awkward silence felt like too much as I watched his brows crease and his eye scans me up and down like an unknown force. Is this really what we had become?

“Still living in the farmhouse?”

“No, I got my own place now,” I wondered did I mention it wasn’t far from Sarah’s place so I could help out with the kids, but when his name was being called I decided not to say a word.

“Coming! Are you bust tonight?” Sam’s finger almost hit my chest as he waited, his leg bouncing, for my answer.

“Y-yeah-”

“Great, let’s get dinner!”

I didn’t have time to come up with a sad excuse before he was jogging away, falling into conversation with his sister as if nothing had ever happened to begin with. As if he didn’t asl his high school sweetheart to dinner years later.

I should’ve stayed home.

I walked through the door of the old restaurant, Sam didn’t have to tell me where he wanted to eat as it was ‘our place’ when we were kids. I spotted him in a booth not far from the large window, a dark blue turtle neck that made him look more handsome than I ever remembered him.

I slowly went around tables and chairs, careful not to fall as I found my way to the other side of him. As soon as his head lifted I knew I was done for it, the glitter in his brown eyes and his perfect smile was the same it had always been.

“You came,” his voice was light and airy as he watched me slip in across from him, his hand almost reaching across the table but he stopped and grabbed a napkin instead.

“You know I wouldn’t pass up free food.”

“Who said it was free?”

I felt the laugh boil over, the carefree demeanor r he always had run through me easily as he watched me like old times.

“So, how’s everything been here? I haven’t seen you since,” his words trailed off and we both knew what he was going to say.

The Air Force ripped our relationship apart before we even realized it had even begun, but I suppose it always seems to go that way.

“Been good, the blip was hard on everyone but I managed to pull it off,” I played with a loose thread, my fingers finding safety in the repeating motions.

“Yeah, yeah I get it.”

I was scared the silence would come back, the awkward pain of watching someone who knew me inside and out forget how to even speak to me.

“I order you a lemonade, I know it was always your favorite.”

Suddenly I was in junior year, laughing with Sam about my math grade and the joke Sam made with the football team. How could he do it?

“Still is, I’ve never been good with change.”

“Oh I know, trust me,” he wiggled his eyebrows in my direction as the waitress left the drinks on the table and hurried off, most likely to ask her co-workers if that who she thought it was.

“So, Avenger?”

“Don’t start with him,” he rolled his eyes, the straw stuck between his lips as he gave me a pleading look.

“I thought you were staying in D.C. and suddenly your sister is calling me that you’re on T.V.!”

“When Cap says help, you help,” he set his drink beside mine, his head resting on his shoulder and his eyes burned into my skin.

“I suppose,” I trailed off, smiling when I noticed him smirking under his arm.

“What now?”

“Remember when I told you we have something special?”

I felt like a stuttering mess and I search from the right word, trying to figure out where to go from here. How do I turn back now?

“Yeah, um, freshman year,” I took the straw between my teeth and let the cold lemonade rush down my throat that was suddenly dry.

“I was really bold back them, huh?”

“Yeah, never knew when to shut up,” I smirked with the straw between my lips as he rolled his eyes. Did anything ever change? Was I still ‘his girl’ or was I just a girl?

“I can’t believe you actually agreed, I ran into Sarah’s room after and just talked about you for hours.”

My heart was slamming against my chest, the feeling that I felt as a kid was definitely still there as he smiled at me with this wondrous look in his eye.

“Sarah probably wanted to kill you.”

“Nah, she loved it when I gushed about you. Called us soulmates,” he shrugged, waiting for me to fill in after but I had no words anymore.

“Too bad, huh?”

“What’s too bad?” Sam’s arms reached across the table, his fingers inches from mine as he looked up from under his eyelashes at me.

“We weren’t,” I paused, “Soulmates I mean.”

Silence, that’s all I heard as the waitress came back and placed two plates in front of us. I opened my mouth, ready to tell her we hadn’t ordered, but I was left speechless as I looked down at the place.

A plate of Mac and Cheese sat in front of me, just like when Sam would make me when I was sad in high school. He could never make anything else and I never had the heart to tell him I wasn’t a huge fan, but by graduation, it was my comfort food.

“Mac and Cheese?”

The waitress was skipping away, my doubt following her as I looked up to Sam’s face. His eyes were wide as they waited for me, his nerves clear as day.

“I know how much you liked it-”

“I didn’t,” I felt my smile slowly find its way to my lips, “not until you made it for me.”

“Really? You let me make you mac and cheese all that time and you didn’t even like it?’

I shrugged, smiling like a psycho as I waited to find the right words. I wasn’t letting him walk out of this restaurant without me this time.

“You must have really loved me.”

“I do,” I finally looked him directly in the eye, surprise when the gentle sparkle of them made me sink farther into the seat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I grabbed my fork, smiling when his hand laid on top of mine.

“Should’ve told me before I made a fool of myself.”

“You’d still do that somehow.”

Bless this town for bringing him back to me.

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anchoviesinthenightsky · 3 years

Note

Here’s something that came to mind from seeing tangled the series that lives in my head rent free I don’t know what to do with:

Following a year after the movie, Luca comes home for early spring holidays. Alberto’s mood is oddly kinda down in a way him and Massimo hadn’t seen before. Luca and Massimo worry what could be troubling him, as Massimo reveals that he’s been down for a few weeks now since spring really kinda started. Massimo decides to take the boys fishing, thinking it would cheer him up to keep him busy, as Alberto had said he doesn’t know why he’s sad, it just happens every spring and it’ll pass, like seasonal depression. Though while out near the good fishing spot Alberto and Luca had shown early, they couldn’t get Alberto to focus much as he just focused on the island he use to reside from, like a trance.

Is it abandonment issues? Yes. Feel free with whatever ending or style, I know it’s not really Luca x Alberto but I am not good with romance plots I’m so sorry 😞 hope you enjoy it anyway

AN: What a GREAT prompt. I had so much fun writing this. I'm not sure if you meant this, but I took this to imply that Alberto's dad left in the spring. And I was thinking about why that memory would be triggered for a full season, and I landed on the idea that something in the environment (like a particular scent) that Alberto associated with his dad leaving, could make an entire season difficult. So I was playing around with that idea!

______: *✧･ﾟ:*___ >><(((・> ______ >><(((・> ____ _: *✧･ﾟ:*__

Spring was in the air, sweet and verdant, and flower petals floated through the air as Luca stepped off the train and into the Portorosso train station. School was on break for a week for the Easter holidays, and Luca had opted to spend the time back home, while Giulia stayed with her mom.

Luca heaved his travel bag off the train steps and looked around the platform. He saw Alberto and Massimo standing in the corner of the station. Alberto was looking off into the distance, not focused on what or who was in front of him. Massimo was lightly patting him on the shoulder and pointing to Luca.

“Beto!” Luca shouted, trying to get his attention.

Alberto shook his head, like he was clearing his brain of fog, and then locked eyes with Luca. “Luca!”

Alberto’s arms were strong and warm as Luca crashed into them. Luca wrapped his own arms around Alberto and squeezed. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Alberto whispered, hugging Luca tight.

And Luca noticed that something felt off about his friend. Maybe it was in the way he seemed to cling onto Luca for the hug, but barely touched him once they let go.

Maybe it was that there was a hollowness in his voice and a distance in his eyes. Like he was here physically, but not mentally, when he told Luca that he could stay in Massimo’s house, if he wanted. And that he’d already asked Luca’s parents if that was okay, and they said it was.

Luca picked up his bag and followed Alberto and Massimo out of the station. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about his friend.

[continued below the cut]

___

“Aren’t the flowers beautiful?” Luca asked. He and Alberto were walking under a trellis lined with wisteria and roses. The flowers wept through the openings, trailing down to brush the tops of their heads as they passed. Luca picked one of the wisteria buds and tucked it behind Alberto’s ear. “They’re almost the same color as your scales.”

Alberto pressed his lips together and took the flower from behind his ear. He looked at it for a moment before turning to Luca and putting it behind his hear. “Maybe you should wear it then, so we’ll match.”

“Oh, well,” Luca touched the flower. The delicate petals mixing with his curls. “We could both wear flowers.”

Luca reached up to grab another one, and Alberto stopped him from reaching the wisteria blossoms.

“Please don’t,” Alberto’s voice caught in his throat. He cleared it with a cough. “I don’t really like how they smell.”

“Oh.” Luca said, retracting his hand. “I didn’t know.”

“’’Sokay,” Alberto shrugged. “I’d never told you.”

___

The rocks beneath Luca’s feet clicked together as he followed Massimo away from the boat. He watched Alberto check the fishing nets. From a distance, he looked sure of his actions, like they’d become second nature to him.

“Luca,” Massimo said, putting a hand on Luca’s shoulder. “Have you noticed that Alberto hasn’t been himself?”

“Yeah,” Luca responded slowly. “It’s like he’s not totally here.”

“Yes, exactly.” Massimo said. “He’s been like that for weeks.”

“For weeks?”

Massimo nodded. “Do you know anything that might cause him to be like that?”

“Not that I know of. Maybe it’s seasonal? He was never like this in the summer.”

“Could be.” Massimo said.

‘Do you think it’s something else?”

“I do not know what to think, ragazzo.” Massimo took his hand off Luca’s shoulder. “I just want him to feel better.”

____

Water sloshed around the sides of the Giulietta, as the boat came to a stop at a particularly good fishing spot. Massimo lowered the net into the water and waited for Alberto to drop anchor. When he didn’t Massimo said, “Luca would you mind dropping the anchor.”

“Of course.” Luca stood up, his leg brushing against Alberto’s, and dropped the anchor gently over the side. He imagined it sinking down and the plume of sand that’d follow as it hit the ground.

He sat back down next to Alberto, who was looking toward the island they’d meet. The island looked different in the spring. It was more colorful than Luca remembered. Flowers dotted the island, and on the side of the island opposite the tower, there was a wisteria tree. It was close enough to the water, then some of the branches floated on the surface, rolling with the gentle waves that came to shore.

Alberto’s eyes were unfocused, and Luca nudged him with his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

Alberto blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut, before looking down at the water. “Nothing.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” Luca said quietly. He placed a hand on Alberto’s knee. “You know you can share things with me, right?”

“I know,” Alberto’s eyes flicked up to Massimo and then back down to the water. “Everything is fine.”

Massimo shifted in his seat, like he was about to speak, but Luca held up a hand to stop him. “What do you say about going on a swim, Alberto?”

“We’re in the middle of fishing.”

“It’s a good idea,” Massimo said. “I can handle the fish.”

“Come on Beto,” Luca tugged on his hand. “The water’s nice.”

“Luca, it’s May. The water’s cold.”

“For humans maybe,” he teased. “Come on.”

Luca slipped into the water, feeling scales shimmer over his body. He splashed his face to finish the change. “It’s really nice Alberto.”

“I don’t know.” Alberto leaned over the edge of the boat to look at Luca.

Luca flicked some water at his face, purple dots appearing where he hit.

“Hey!” Alberto rubbed the scaled away. “What was that for?”

“I just thought it’d be funny.” Luca said, unsure.

“Well, it wasn’t funny, and I don’t want to swim.”

Luca watched as Massimo looked between Alberto and the island. “Alberto,” he said. “You can go swim. I won’t go anywhere. I promise. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to go back home.”

Alberto’s shoulders dropped. His lips pinched together, and he nodded slowly. “You promise?”

“Of course.” Massimo replied.

“Thank you, papa.” Alberto said. He slipped out of the boat and dipped his head under the water, before popping back up to face Luca. “Where to?”

Luca grabbed his hand and pulled him down.

___

They didn’t go so far down that they lost sight of Massimo’s boat, but they were deep enough that the sky distorted under the water and the currents would carry their bodies if they left them.

Luca flipped on his back and put his hands behind his head, letting the water roll over him. Alberto stayed curled up, his tail curling around a leg.

“So, what’s really going on?” Luca asked.

“Nothing, I told you.” Alberto glanced behind him at the island. Luca could see branches of wisteria floating on the water.

“Beto,” Luca flipped over and put a hand on Alberto’s arm, “you’re a terrible liar.”

“I am not.”

“You are, and that’s okay.” Luca smiled a little. “But you’ve been acting out of it, and it seems like something is wrong. You can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

Alberto pressed his lips together and looked off to the side of Luca’s face, as if he couldn’t look him in the eye. “You know my dad?”

“Massimo?”

“No, the other one.”

“Oh.” Luca squeezed Alberto’s shoulder, hoping the touch was reassuring. “What about him.”

“He left in the spring.”

Luca nodded, afraid saying anything would stop Alberto in his tracks.

“It was,” Alberto turned and pointed to the floating petals on the water. “there.”

“Under the wisteria?” Luca asked. Heart dropping as he recalled trying to give Alberto a flower from that same plant.

“Yeah.” Alberto dropped his head. “We were sitting there, under the flowers. It was a nice day, where the weather was finally starting to get warm again. He told me that he was leaving, and that I could watch after myself.”

Alberto’s eyes watered. “And then he left. And I sat under those flowers until the sun went down. I slept under that tree the first night too, and I thought— I thought if I didn’t leave then maybe he’d come back.”

“I’m so sorry Alberto.”

“Me too.” Luca pulled Alberto in for a hug, “You should tell Massimo. He’s been worried about you.”

Alberto shook his head, hiding it in Luca’s neck. He mumbled, “What if I tell him and he thinks my dad was right and leaves me too.”

“No.”

“What?” Alberto lifted his head a little.

“Massimo isn’t like that. You know that.” Luca put a hand on Alberto’s cheek. “You’ve got a Bruno in your head.”

Alberto gave a wet laugh. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

“I know you do.”

#alberto scorfano #luca panguro #massimo marcovaldo #ask box prompts #my writing #i hope i delivered some of the angst you were hoping for!#i think this is could make a good one-shot #so i'll probably clean it up/add to it over the next couple weeks when I have some free time #keep an eye out for that? i'll probably reblog this post with a link whenever i end up uploading it!

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