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wrestlingisfake · 10 days

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Dynasty preview

Samoa Joe vs. Swerve Strickland - Joe is defending the AEW men's world championship. These two already met in a three-way for the title on March 3, but since Joe tapped out Adam Page in that match, he still has unfinished business with Strickland.

When Swerve started chasing the title, I figured he'd lose to Joe and move back down the card for 6-12 months, to get heated up for a real run on top. By the end of February, it was pretty clear this guy has It and a lot of people were going to be disappointed if he didn't win the big one ASAP. I figured he wouldn't lose the fall on March 3, but I never imagined they'd give him another shot this quickly. On top of that, the build feels like Swerve has to win this time. They've done all the little things that will make it super disappointing if he can't close the deal. It feels too early to take the belt off Joe, but I don't know if they can get away with denying Strickland again.

If Joe is going to retain, they'll really have to pull out all the stops. Joe cannot beat Swerve clean--that would be promotional malpractice at this point. You'd need a huge surprise run-in to keep fans from totally hating a Swerve loss. Maybe if Adam Page returns to renew his endless feud with Swerve. Maybe if MJF returns to get revenge on Joe. Maybe if Jack Perry clips Swerve's knee before the match, and the 101st Airborne hold him down for the three-count. But even with all that, I wouldn't want to be the guy booking Swerve to lose tonight, and facing the media after the show.

Even so, I can't quite convince myself Swerve is actually going to win the world title. I'm so used to pro wrestling dicking us around with these things, and making us wait past the peak. So even though I think the finish should be a foregone conclusion, I'm gonna be on the edge of my seat for every near-fall. Should be good times.

Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson vs. Dax Harwood & Cash Wheeler - This is the final match in a 10-team tournament for the AEW tag team championship, which was vacated by Sting and Darby Allin after Sting retired. It's also a ladder match, so the title belts will be hung above the ring, and ladders will be provided at ringside for the wrestlers to climb; the first man to pull down the belts wins the match and the title for his team. Both teams have held the title twice before; whichever team wins here will become the first 3-time AEW tag team champions.

This will be the fourth two-on-two match between the Young Bucks (Matt and Nick) and FTR (Dax and Cash). FTR leads the series 2-1 after their last encounter on August 31. The Bucks recently claimed that they only lost that match because they were distracted by the infamous CM Punk/Jack Perry incident, and insinuated that FTR planned it somehow.

I would like to think this match could be the last final word on making cutesy references to CM Punk drama. I'd like to think that, but the Bucks have an approach to heel heat that lends itself to beating dead horses and not being terribly subtle about it. That will probably take the match down a peg. I'm not sure which team will win, but it feels inevitable that Jack Perry will run in to help the Bucks, and I don't see FTR coming up with a counter for that. So I guess I'm picking the Bucks.

Will Ospreay vs. Bryan Danielson - Danielson is winding down his career by wrestling all his dream matches, and brother he got himself a good one here. I figure these two will tear the house down. Other than that there isn't a whole lot of story here, except that the Don Callis Family may or may not have any confidence in their man Ospreay to win, and the Blackpool Combat Club is getting sick of the Don Callis Family. It's only a matter of time before Callis turns on Will, but I'm not sure it'll happen tonight. I'm cautiously picking Ospreay to win, but I can't rule out a Danielson victory.

Toni Storm vs. Thunder Rosa - Storm is putting the AEW women's world title on the line. This match was supposed to happen waaay back in September 2022, with Storm challenging Rosa for the title, but Rosa was sidelined with a back injury. Since then Storm has become a three-time champion, and gone off the deep end with her current "old-timey movie starlet" gimmick.

I always wanted Rosa to come back and get a shot at the title she never lost. But now that we're here, I'm a bit concerned. Rosa's matches since her return haven't wowed me--although to be fair, they've mostly been squash matches. I just don't get the sense she's as hot now as she was a couple of years ago, and it feels like Storm has passed her by and lapped her a few times. I can't help thinking Rosa isn't going to look good here, but I hope I'm wrong. In any case, Storm should probably retain.

Kazuchika Okada vs. PAC - Okada is making his first defense of the AEW continental title. Per the rules for this title, there will be no one allowed at ringside. Pac is cool and he'll give us a great match. But, dude, c'mon. Okada just got here, and he's still on that "new guy wins all the time" streak. I learned a long time ago not to bet against Okada.

Mark Briscoe & Adam Copeland & Eddie Kingston vs. Malakai Black & Brody King & Buddy Matthews - Briscoe lent a hand when FTR and Daniel Garcia were feuding with the House of Black, and ever since then he's been feuding with the House of Black. Lucky for him they've also managed to piss off Copeland and Kingston. It was only a couple of weeks ago that Mark and Eddie beat the hell out of each other over the ROH men's world title, but this time they're on the same side.

Briscoe's superteam looks like more than a match for the House of Black, so it'd be easy to pick them to win. But the fact each of the babyfaces has a singles title makes me wonder if it'd be better for the heels to win to set up three new challengers down the line. I could be overthinking it, but something tells me the House will win here.

Roderick Strong vs. Kyle O'Reilly - This is for Strong's AEW international title. These two used to be teammates within Adam Cole's Undisputed Era faction in NXT. Then O'Reilly and Cole were buddies in AEW in 2022, until they both got sidelined with injuries. By the time O'Reilly returned, Strong was in AEW as a part of Cole's Undisputed Kingdom faction, and it seemed logical for Kyle to join up. Instead O'Reilly chose to go it alone, and I guess Roddy didn't appreciate that, so here we go. I think O'Reilly has a fair chance of winning the title, but it seems too early to take it off Strong, so I'll go with him to retain.

Julia Hart vs. Willow Nightingale - Willow won a four-way match for the right to challenge Julia for the AEW TBS title. Mercedes Mone has already issued a challenge to the winner of this match for May 26. Meanwhile someone has been sneak attacking both Mone and Willow, which sure suggests Julia is behind it but I bet it's someone else.

So I think both these women are super cool and awesome, and this is one of those matches where I just hope everybody has a good time. But let's get down to brass tacks. I really want to see Julia step up and defend the title against Mone. I know, I know, the backstory is already in place for Mone vs. Nightingale, and that's cool too, and if I had to put money on it that's the match that will happen. But...I gotta root for my girl Julia here. Sorry Willow.

HOOK vs. Chris Jericho - Hook already beat Jericho last month, but this time he's putting his FTW title on the line, so there will be no count-outs or disqualifications. Jericho wanted to mentor Hook, but he got too pushy about it and Hook decided there's nothing Jericho can teach him.

I'm 99% sure the point of this match is for Jericho to win the title, whereby Hook will realize he underestimated Jericho's cunning. The problem is that "FTW champion Jericho" would be a retread of "FTW champion Jack Perry" and "ROH champion Jericho." Everything about this storyline feels like a rehash of previous Jericho storylines in AEW. So I hope Hook wins to put an end to it, but I don't expect to get that lucky.

Anthony Bowens & Max Caster & Billy Gunn vs. Jay White & Austin Gunn & Colten Gunn - This is scheduled for the pre-show. It's a unification match for the AEW trios title (held by Billy and the Acclaimed) and the ROH trios title (held by Jay and the Gunns). I assume the winners will keep the AEW belts and the ROH belts will be retired. I have been looking forward to this, because I have long felt that AEW absolutely does not need two trios titles (unless Julia Hart and Skye Blue find a cool chick to be their spooky friend).

Austin and Colten turned on their father and the Acclaimed in 2022, and joined Jay White's Bullet Club Gold back in June. The two groups reconciled and joined forces in January, but within a few months White and the Gunns showed their true colors again.

Throughout this storyline I've been expecting Billy and the Acclaimed to prevail in the end. But now that we're in the eleventh hour I'm having second thoughts. I could see either team losing and moving out of the trios division altogether. And I think it's high time Caster and Bowens get back in the hunt for the tag title. So I think I've talked myself into picking the Bang Bang Gang.

Orange Cassidy & Katsuyori Shibata vs. Shane Taylor & Lee Moriarty - Another pre-show match. Shane Taylor Promotions really put a beating to Cassidy on April 17. Since Trent Beretta turned on Orange and Chuck Taylor is injured (and we don't know where his loyalties lie), Cassidy is running low on friends to help him in situations like this. Shibata seems like a strong partner to bring in, and a month ago I'd have said the faces win this one easy. But Taylor's group seems to be starting to get a push, so they might surprise you here...

Trent Beretta vs. Matt Sydal - More pre-show stuff. When Shane Taylor Promotions was beating up Orange Cassidy, Trent ran in just to take out anybody else who tried to run in and help Orange. What a dick. Anyway, he laid out one guy so fast I didn't even see who it was, and I guess it was Sydal. Sydal is going to lose pretty hard here.

#aew #dynasty #samoa joe #swerve strickland

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nalanzu · 1 year

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Weiss Kreuz Episode 12: Abschied

We ended the last episode on Omi finding and assassinating his biological brother, after said brother unrepentantly insisted that hunting humans for sport was justified if it achieved a desirable end, namely the election of their father to public office. There's been a lot of heavy drama in the last several episodes, and we're about due for a breather. We're not going to get it.

We open on Weiss in the flowershop, as Ouka is beginning to worry about Omi and all the weird shit that happens around him. Given that they were just kidnapped and shot at before the shenanigans at the party happened, one cannot blame her. The peanut gallery, AKA Yohji and Ken, think this is a security breach and also not fun to watch. Aya is uncharacteristically lenient and tells his teammates to leave them alone.

Not only is Ouka hanging around the flowershop, she's also joining Omi on deliveries. They're very cute, talking about Takatori as if he's a decent human being. Ouka invites Omi to dinner, and tells him that her father is very excited to meet him. She keeps squeezing Omi's broken ribs, which I should not be amused by, but here we are. She has a date at the movies planned. She is once again not taking a no for an answer.

Omi mutters to himself out loud that she's very pushy, as he walks back to the bike, and Schuldig gives him some shit for it. Schuldig also ostentatiously reads Omi's mind, and tells him he's a hypocrite because he's killed his brothers. Schuldig really gets under Omi's skin, by calling him a bloodthirsty murderer who isn't fit to touch Ouka and then laughing at him. Omi reacts like an adolescent, namely by threatening Schuldig with a dart. Schuldig finds this hilarious.

The rest of Weiss finds it a bit weird that Omi came home and locked himself in his room. There are comments about Young Men In Love and the conversation does not go to the dirty place it should when they're making those comments. Omi, however, is having nightmares about killing his biological relatives. Not sure why this is worse than killing anyone else, as he didn't grow up with them, but it's bothering Omi a lot.

Oh my god Ouka has an adorable poodle. She gets accosted by Schuldig while walking said dog, and recognizes him as the one who kidnapped Omi. Schuldig introduces himself as a bodyguard, and Ouka calls bullshit. Schuldig tells her Omi's original name and that Omi is actually her brother. Ouka reasonably tells him he's a liar, but Schuldig demonstrates his telepathy and tells her to ask her parents for the truth. He just likes throwing wrenches in things, doesn't he.

Ouka asks her mother about her father's hypothetical third son, and her mother responds just as Schuldig said she would by denying all knowledge of such a person. Ouka says she'll ask Takatori, and her mother caves. She pulls out an undamaged version of the picture Omi found in the burning house, in which she's holding a baby Omi, and confirms that Omi is Mamoru is Ouka's brother, and then says she was so surprised when Ouka showed up with him. Was she not going to tell her daughter that she was related to her new boyfriend? What the actual fuck.

Ouka runs off to talk to Omi, who isn't in the front of the shop, and then tells Yohji that she doesn't want to talk to him after all. Yohji decides he needs to meddle, and sends Omi chasing after Ouka. They're trying very hard to set up a tragic love affair, what with Omi falling hard for Ouka and his guilt about the fact that he has signed up to be a murderer, but the fact that they're using the secret siblings trope to do it means it isn't landing for me.

I'm also not convinced I should find it funny that Omi's worst fear is that Ouka finds out he's a member of Weiss, a group of prettyboy assassins who have been killing people for years, but that the actual truth of the matter is that they are allegedly half-siblings. There are a lot of things I keep finding funny that I think are supposed to be poignant or dramatic or tragic, though it's not limited to this show. I'm fairly sure the writers are aiming for a sense of noble tragedy here. I'm also fairly sure they've missed.

In any case, Omi has gone to talk to Persia about his love life. He wants to know why Persia hid his past and why he was sent to kill his brothers. Persia tells him that Takatori has been using the position he already has to enact control over Japan with the help of a secret organization, Estset. There are apparently MANY secret organizations in his version of Japan. (Were the 90s the decade of conspiracy theories? Or was it just Weiss Kreuz and X-Files?) Persia opines that Takatori forced his sons to help him, and tells Omi that even though it's difficult, sometimes you just have to kill people you're related to for the greater good.

Omi pulls the absolute most teenage line anyone has ever pulled and shouts that Persia doesn't understand how he feels. This is also a glorious set-up for the next dramatic reveal, in which Persia's identity is finally shared with Omi and the audience. "I do understand how you feel, because I'm Takatori Reiji's younger brother."

I mean, that is definitely a great Gotcha line.

Omi rallies pretty quickly and demands to know why Persia isn't out there doing the murdering himself, then. Oh, Omi. This is how the world works. Powerful and rich men get other people to do their shit for them. Omi isn't having it, either, as Persia explains that he doesn't have the strength to to what Omi does, and Omi spits back that Persia just doesn't want the blood on his hands. He also wants to know why Takatori didn't pay the ransom for him when he was kidnapped, which, hey, that's a reasonable question that's been bothering him for several episodes now. Persia is a lying liar and says he doesn't know.

Back to Takatori's assassins, Nagi is psychically typing and researching on the internet. Schuldig, oddly, is apparently able to share his gift. He also says minds taste like honey, which is weird AF. We're not sure what they're up to at this point, but it's probably not great.

Back to Omi and the date, into the theater he goes looking for Ouka. She stares at him from behind, as Schuldig pops up behind her. Back at the flowershop, someone has sent the rest of Weiss a message that Omi is a spy and to meet them at a specific place to learn more. They wonder who could have hacked their systems, demonstrating that they have no fucking clue how email works. To be fair, they're all GenX, so it does track. (Omi, the baby Millennial, is the one who knows tech. Which also tracks.) Ken, just stop talking.

Aya decides they don't have enough time to clear the meeting with Manx. Yohji jokes that if Omi was a spy, he's doing a great job, but they're trying to reach Omi to tell him about the shenanigans before said meeting. Back at the theater, Schuldig tells Ouka about Omi's murdery other job. He exaggerates just slightly, telling her that Omi was there to kill her father. She is skeptical, as she should be. Schuldig says he'll prove it.

Because they play right into his hands, the rest of Weiss is on their way. Schuldig says Weiss is trying to assassinate Ouka. She is, of course, tied up in his back seat. He sends Omi to the meeting place that was given to Weiss.

It's foggy and dark when they all arrive. Ouka, tied to a tree, screams for help. Weiss goes to help her. Omi immediately assumes they're there to kill her. I really feel this speaks as to a fundamental lack of trust between these people; Omi was ready at the drop of a hat to threaten his teammates when he found out his biological brother was their target, and he is absolutely willing to believe right now that his teammates and friends are going to murder his girlfriend because she found out their secret. Schuldig is fanning these flames, to be fair, and there's always the possibility that he's affecting Omi's judgment.

Aya hears Schuldig, though, and goes after him. Farfarello launches himself at Ken, and Yohji drags Omi into the dubious shelter of a tinfoil umbrella when Schuldig starts shooting at him. How the gun does not end the fight immediately I have no idea, but Weiss distracts Farfarello and Schuldig while Omi goes for Ouka and gets her away from the tree. She's upset, and tells him that they're siblings. Poor Omi. Her father is Takatori Reiji, he realizes.

While Omi and Ouka fall apart, Schuldig and Farfarello keep fighting Weiss. Omi decides that he and Ouka can still love each other and ease each other's loneliness, just as siblings. And not lovers. I don't think that's how feelings work, generally, but hey. It's pretty cute. He then says they'll be together forever, sealing her death warrant as Schuldig shoots her in the back literally the second he finishes speaking. She dies dramatically in his arms after he desperately kisses her. What was that about siblings, Omi? What was it?

The requisite rain required to punctuate such a Tragic Moment begins to fall. Weiss looks hot and brooding in their assassin outfits. Omi screams, clutching the body of his sister/lover. End episode.

I know there are definitely worse things I've seen and enjoyed. This one really revels in its melodrama; there are highs and lows - mostly lows - as it tries to pulverize the hearts of its viewers into dust with how Painful And Tragic the events are for the four very pretty male protagonists. Sometimes this lands better than other times, but now that we've gotten halfway through the show, it's beginning to feel a touch repetitive.

One might make an argument for Ouka being an entry for the Women In Refrigerators column, and it's hard to dispute that she dies specifically and only to cause Omi grief and pain. With pitch-perfect comedic - I mean tragic - timing, even. The point at which she differs slightly is that we do see a little more of her as a character. She is, to be fair, entirely focused on Omi. We don't get a lot of her internal emotional journey or her motivations, although there's a glimpse of that when we hear about her growing up without a stable paternal presence in her life, but the emotional development we've seen for her is roughly on par with what we get from the show's protagonists. She does have a clearly defined personality. She's not quite a woman-shaped cutout who does nothing more than die for male angst.

On her own, Ouka is a perfectly reasonable entry in the Weiss canon of characters. Taken alongside Schreient, Asuka, Maki, and sister!Aya (Yuriko escaped to a presumably happy life in Australia, so she doesn't make this list), the women of Weiss paint a rather bleak picture of female representation. There are very few positive outcomes for women, in this show, though most of the early one-off characters involved in the case of the week ended up with dead boyfriends rather than stuffed into the fridge themselves.

As far as Omi goes, it's A Lot. The reveal that he's related to Persia who is related to Aya's nemesis is A Lot, and it's not necessarily handled badly (aside from the well-timed rain, and the well-timed gunshot, and the absolutely cringe-inducing foreshadowing) but it's not really handled well, either. All the subtlety of a ton of bricks, this show, as I am once again struck by how thoughtful many fanworks were in comparison. (I said many. Not all. Not even most. I know what this fandom was like.)

As far as vanity projects go, though, hey. I'm still having a lot of fun revisiting it.

#weiss kreuz #meta commentary #episode summary

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warriorsbutnotreally · 3 years

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Goldenflower And Sasha Switch Kits AU

so uh

apparently my draft posted and I wasn't aware of it, despite it being saved as a draft????

let's

try this again

with this au

and pretend nothing happened

Tadpole, Hawk, Moth

Tadpolekit, Mothkit, and Hawkkit are born to Goldenflower and Tigerstar. [Tadpole is an almost black tabby, Mothkit is almost identical to her mother, and Hawkkit looks how Bramblestar does in canon]

They are still in the nursery when their father is exiled. The kits are notably hurt by him leaving.

When whispers about the kits start, Tadpolekit is quick to fight and kick and protect his siblings from any rumors, causing quite a ruckus. He's also close to his uncle, Snowkit, especially once cats start to realize the white tom is deaf.

Mothkit is clearly hurt the most by what's going on, feeling lost on why everything was happening. She sticks closer and closer to her brothers, though the words against her aren't as harsh as with Tadpolekit and Hawkkit.

Hawkkit is harder to read, as he acts like nothing is wrong and nothing happened, instead choosing to pretend everything is fine, though he slowly is less and less connected to his brother and sister as a result.

When Snowkit is grabbed by the hawk, Tadpolekit tries to save him. He doesn't, but he slows the hawk down enough for a warrior to snag the bird and save Snowkit. Tadpolekit and Speckletail become very protective of Snowkit as a result.

They grow and become Hawkpaw, Tadpolepaw, Mothpaw, and Snowpaw - their mentors, respectively, being Firestar, Brightheart, Cinderpelt, and Brackenfur [with help from Speckletail]

Not long after they're apprentices, though, Mothpaw and Hawkpaw go missing and cannot be found. The Clan panics until the next gathering, where it's revealed Hawkpaw and Mothpaw were in ShadowClan.

Mothpaw isn't happy there, but she was pressured by Hawkpaw to go. It turns out, too, that Tadpolepaw knew about this, but didn't leave with them as he wanted nothing to do with his father. Mothpaw is now Littlecloud's apprentice and Hawkpaw is being mentored by Blackfoot.

Hawkpaw also makes a scene at the gathering, saying how ThunderClan chased them out because they kept judging them on their kin, and specifically says its Firestar's fault

The rest of the gathering isn't that pleasant

Time goes and when Tigerstar is killed, Tadpolepaw finds himself unable to feel sorry for his father and this angers Hawkpaw beyond belief.

Tadpolepaw asks Mothpaw to come back and Hawkpaw stops her from leaving, saying that Tadpolepaw abandoned them, too

Tadpolepaw is outraged that his brother feels this way, feeling more about this than he did his father's death, which only proves to piss off Hawkpaw more

Mothpaw apologizes to Tadpolepaw, stating she needs to be there for Hawkpaw.

He tells her she doesn't, but still watches as his sister leaves with their brother.

The battle against BloodClan happens about the same way, with all the apprentices - including medicine cat apprentice Mothpaw - coming together to kill Bone. Hawkpaw also attempts to ight Scourge, but ends up having half of his face ripped to shreds. He spends many days in the medicine cat den, seething.

As warriors they become Tadpolefrost, Snowheart, and Hawkclaw Mothpaw eventually earns the full medicine cat name Mothwhisper

Bramble, Tawny

Bramble and Tawny are born to Sasha after she returns to the forest. Sasha is weak and tired, but does her best to care for her two kits. [Bramble is a brown and cream tabby and Tawny is a seal point cat - both of them are massive kits, too, which was stressful for a lone molly giving birth]

Sasha eventually starts getting sick, but is afraid to turn to ShadowClan for help.

She eventually grows too weak and drags herself and her kits towards the Clans. She is taken in by RiverClan, but they are unable to save her in time and she passes away a few days later.

Bramble and Tawny, who are still young, are named Bramblekit and Tawnykit, and given to the queens, who all take turns taking care of the kits.

Tawny was eventually apprenticed to Leopardstar and Bramble was apprenticed to Blackclaw [it should also be noted that around this time is when Leafkit and Squirrelkit are born in ThunderClan]

Featherpaw and Stormpaw, who are young apprentices at this time, are curious about these new kits and are glad to have potential friends.

The two brother and sister duos become fast friends and teach each other everything they need to know.

However, Featherpaw feels a tinge of worry every time she looks at Bramblepaw, especially as he gets older. She brushes this off, but it doesn't stop the worried thoughts.

Tawnypaw and Featherpaw also get really close, even after Featherpaw becomes Feathertail, and the two are best friends. Tawnypaw also actively defends Feathertail while she works through her trauma and gives her her space when she needs it.

Bramblepaw had a harder time making friends, secluding himself for a bit as he felt a strange tugging at his dreams every time he closed his eyes. He did eventually become friends with Feathertail, Stormfur, and Dawnflower later on in his apprentice training.

Tawnypaw and Bramblepaw earn the warrior names Tawnyfang and Bramblefur

Where Their Stories Intertwine

The chosen cats for the journey are Feathertail, Crowpaw, Tadpolefrost, and Mothwhisper Stormfur and Tawnyfang refuse to let Feathertail go alone and Tadpolefrost gets joined by his apprentice, Squirrelpaw, whom he can be frustrated with, but he still thinks highly of her as he can't deny that her spunky attitude is refreshing.

Tawnyfang and Feathertail at this point are mates and openly so as they are rather affectionate

Things go as they do in canon, though with the new cast of characters and with new interactions. I have few memories of the journey itself, honestly, and will need to reread TNP once more fdksh

When they reach the lake, Mothwhisper pulls Tadpolefrost to the side and tells him that Hawkclaw is getting worse and she's worried about what he may do in the future.

Tadpolefrost wants to brush this off, but something deep down feels a familiar dread.

Back in ShadowClan, Hawkclaw is currently mentoring Smokepaw, becoming a model warrior and someone Blackstar clearly trusts, though there is the bias with the two being a former mentor and apprentice. Bramblefur finds himself jealous of the ShadowClan warrior, as he seems to be the star of that Clan, but he doesn't speak about his envy.

During a gathering, Bramblefur notices the ThunderClan medicine cat apprentice, Leafpaw, watching him. After the gathering, he confronts the apprentice, who apologizes and admits she didn't know she was staring. She admits he reminds her of someone, but before he can press for answers, she ends up being called away.

Returning to the journeying cats as they start their return, they come across the Tribe. When Feathertail almost sacrifices herself, Tawnyfang gets in the way. She doesn't die killing Sharptooth, but she is badly injured. Feathertail and Stormfur stay behind with her, leaving Tadpolefrost, Squirrelpaw, and Mothwhisper to return to the Clans.

Bramblefur and Leafpaw work together to save cats who are taken by twolegs, Bramblefur getting them out and Leafpaw treating them for their injuries.

and I'm not sure how I want things to go past here

But Tadpole is the one to kill Hawk, who almost became leader as he was actively trying to kill Blackstar after Russetfur's "mysterious" death

Tadpole did try reasoning with his brother, but after he realized there was no hope, he killed him

I don't even know which of the Tiger kids I want to have trained in the Dark Forest jakffds

And to get some side notes out

Squirrelflight doesn't have a planned mate, but she doesn't get with Ashfur

I'm not sure if I'd go with LeafCrow or LeafBramble [as they are close in this AU, but idk if they'd become mates], but one of those two toms is the father of The Three. Also, before anyone complains, there's only a 6 moon age gap between Bramble and Leaf and they wouldn't have feelings for each other until they're both older. Though, I can't imagine they'd run away together and split mutually because they can't manage to keep meeting when they're a whole lake apart.

Squilf still lies for her sister and raises Holly, Jay, and Lion as her own

If Tadpole ever has his own kits, he names one Hawkkit after his brother, though I don't know who he'd be in a relationship with [maybe he gets with Daisy instead of Spiderleg?]

While in the Tribe, Tawny and Feather find a Tribe tom willing to help them and they become the proud mothers of Stonekit/Stonesplash, Silverkit/Silverfeather, and Ravenkit/Ravenstep Stone is a brown and gray tabby trans intersex tolly [uses he/him] Silver is a pale gray and white tom and Raven is a black tabby molly

Stonesplash ends up the RiverClan medicine cat and has to be partially tried by the other medicine cats after Mudfur passes away. He tries to convince Leopardstar to let Willowpaw train with him, but is denied for a while. He eventually wins and Willowshine, as a warrior apprentice, trains to be a medicine cat. It's not until moons later that it turns out the two had been flirting since they were apprentices.

#au #goldenflower #sasha #hawkfrost #tadpole #mothwing #bramblestar #tawnypelt #warriors #warrior cats

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sailingintothenight · 3 years

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“Put your head on my Shoulder.” T.H. Imagine.

Summary: And what if after years of chasing each other like a cat and mouse, on a magical night where you two have to pretend to be a couple, you are finally able to say how you really feel about each other?

A/N: Hello everyone, after a while, and because a couple of people asked me, I wrote the second part of this story, "WANNABE", but you don't have to read it to understand this one. Anyway, I really hope you like it. Please give this story a lot of love. Thank you - V.

Tom Holland hates not being able to hate you.

The secret of his hate is because of your vanity, your selfish and free heart, your tender smile, the dimple that forms on your left cheek and your dreamy eyes that look at your grandfather as if he were the first man that you have ever loved — because you did.

Tom hates you because under a starry night, in the midst of a crowd of people and soothing music, you make your way through the mortals wearing a velvety wine red strapless dress that is lust itself on your body, black boots (velvet too) that cover you up to the knees and are as hot as hell, and your chocker - a gift from your father - from which a cross hangs, that is a tempting invitation for a sinner like him.

You are his angel with a devilish smile: but tonight, Tom Holland hates that, despite possessing all those qualities, and many more, he can only see the tenderness in your eyes when you look at your grandfather, or when you talk about him, and your smile that becomes as adorable as the face you were born with.

“You are like… staring much. Don't you think?" Harrison chuckles beside him, making Tom look away from you and your way of receiving the guests scattered around the place.

"Shit, Tom, if you turned a little faster you would look like the exorcist." Harry continues with the bland jokes, the same ones that make Sam, Harry and Tuwaine smile.

"Shut up." Tom hisses, taking a sip of his beer as he looks back at his group of friends.

But this story is not about you, but about Tom Holland, your lifelong neighbor, who you never had a conversation with other than to annoy each other, who you used to call idiot when nobody but him heard you, who used to laugh at you while filming Avengers: infinity war, endgame and finally, Spider-man: Far From Home, who used to hold your hand when you were kids because your parents were best friends, the same Tom who now drinks and look at you while you warmly greet each guest who has come to celebrate the birthday of the second man you know loved you.

“How is possible that you and he are the only two famous people at this party? What a waste of fame. Sigh." Danielle, your best friend whispers dramatically, just as you both stop at the bar to pick up more drinks.

"I'd feel sorry for you if you actually sighed." You give her a know-it-all smile, one that invites you to earn a playful slap on the butt from her.

"Please baby, I need to get something out of our friendship, otherwise this isn't working." She makes a gesture between her and you, the same sign that a boyfriend would make before breaking up.

"Tom Holland is here, why don't you go meet him?" You joke as you take the tray and walk with her by your side talking about Tom, although he was not news to you two.

"No thanks. But you can't deny that he looks sooo good. Only HE can look adorable and sexy at the same time. With those good boy eyes and wild muscles under his plain white T-shirt. Like Wow." She makes an expression of surprise, and the sound of an explosion as if her head cannot bear so much information that causes you so much laughter. "Seriously, please take that hottie. I'm sure your grandmother sent it to you as a gift."

You giggle, but your heart races at the thought of his breaking, because even though he and Hanna Johnson were never official, maybe he thought they were so. And after breaking up with her, he was back in London.

You suspected that was the reason behind his break.

"I would, but I don't love you as much as you think." You joke, just the moment you get to the table where your dear grandfather and your grandmother's friends, are, talking about you.

With just your young age, the world was a bright place for you, but here you are now, feeling how your best hits in movies escape from your hands like sand thanks to the endless words that spring from between the wrinkled lips of your grandmother's best friends, in the garden of your own house, adorned with crowded wooden tables and Christmas lights shining on you.

"Life goes by so fast, honey, you won't have that hot body for life." Says Mrs. Lee, who, at 89, still plays to be a 20-year-old from time to time. "You are... 24? 25? And you haven't had a single boyfriend yet."

"What do achievements matter if you don't have the most important thing, cutie?" Mrs. Russell asks, clicking her tongue in approval at her own words. “There are so many beautiful boys out there. My granddaughters want to be like you, but what will I tell them if you've never had a taste of real life? You are very innocent and that can work against you. You can have a little more fun while still being a lady, you know?"

Although in your cheeks bloom a crimson glow, you are aware that her words are offensive.

"You could tell the twins that you can be successful without fucking every chocolate-covered hottie that makes you an unseemly proposition." You murmur between tight lips, knowing well that the women in front of you need more than a whisper to hear certain truths. “I mean, you could tell Amy and Anne to work hard if they want to be actresses. The world is sexist, but, hey, here I am - besides, who says I don't have a boyfriend?"

You raise an eyebrow at your own question, winning several curious glances that seem to pierce you, even your grandfather, who stares at you more astonished than anyone.

"Really?" Mrs. Russell smiles, and her red lips gleam in the night. "And who is he?"

"Uh... well... I..." You giggle in a trance thanks to the bitter taste of the liquor that has your mind under a spell, leaving you completely blank and without a coherent response. "He is…"

"Hello, love." Tom presses his body against yours, suddenly, out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around your waist, so firm that you feel the pressure of his rolex in his left hand. "Hello, ladies. I heard you talking about me and I couldn't help but come and save my girl from this sea of questions about who her boyfriend is. You thought I wasn't real, huh? I know my angel here is a little shy about our relationship, but there is no problem, love, you know you can show off what a good boyfriend I am with whoever you want…"

Tom smiles and enchants the older women who smile back at him, as if they are in love with his youth and his face that has it all: his cloud-fluffy brown hair that is combed to the side and back, the sparkle in his gaze and the way he smiles, making the corners of his eyes crinkle, right down to that funny eyebrow that everyone finds adorable.

From his lovely face and well-defined jaw to his personality and strong English accent: Tom looked like an angel from heaven, perhaps the devil himself because how dangerous his charm could be.

"Oh honey, I didn't know you and Tom were dating." Mrs. Lee says, with an expression between happy and sad. "My granddaughters thought they might have a chance with you, darling."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Lee." Tom answers, with a hint of happiness and pride in his voice. "I'm already taken and I like it that way."

"Yes!" You say with surprise when Tom gives you a squeeze with the hand that is holding you, shooting you a loving look to encourage you to speak. "I mean... He is."

You smile at the audience, especially at your grandfather and Danielle, who seem to have their suspicions.

"Tom..." Says Roy, your grandfather, who averts his narrowed eyes from your gaze to his, just to become the happiest person in the world as he clasps his hands in a sign of prayer. “I didn't know that you and my darling (Y/N) were together. I'm so happy! I'm sure my beloved Jules is happy too. Couldn't have asked for a better grandson."

"Thank you very much, Roy." Tom says, and it's so natural that he seems sincere. "I wanted to tell you, but we wanted to wait for our relationship to grow stronger."

"Yeah, you know that there are many actresses, blondes and blue eyes actresses who want to eat this hottie." You say and Tom laughs, nervous.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, I'd like to speak to my girlfriend in private for a moment."

Guiding you all the way, you and Tom turn around in the direction of the glass doors of your house that connect to the kitchen, breathing in the warm air from the warm walls the moment you two walk in.

"Good acting, Tom." You smile as you take a grape from the kitchen counter. "Not enough to win an EMMY but-"

"Ha. You are funny. But now I want to talk to you about something…” Tom smiles, too, giving you a devilish look, as if he never rests from it. "You owe me a favor, love."

"Of course not!" You defend yourself, nervous of the sudden change in the conversation. “You came alone like a prince on a horse. I did not call you. I do not owe you anything."

"Are you sure about that?" Tom laughs, as if he really enjoyed the moment. “Because I can go there and tell them the truth. I told you it's pathetic that you've never had a boyfriend. Besides, I wouldn't want to break Roy's heart, he looked so happy to know that his dearest granddaughter is with a good man."

You cross your arms, uneasy with the fact that you've never really fallen in love with someone, while seriously thinking about how happy, and probably relieved, your granddfather is to see that his granddaughter is with someone like Tom, who, despite of everything, yes, was a good boy.

"Okay. What do you want?"

"I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents."

You laugh inadvertently, although deep down you want to know if what was being said about Hannah and him was true.

"Why?"

"Everyone thinks Hannah dumped me and I don't want to see myself as a loser in front of my family and have them keep asking questions about her, it's exhausting."

"Eh, too late for that." You sigh, and Tom looks at you hopefully. "You were a loser long time ago, Tom, sorry."

"I hate you." Tom laughs.

"The feeling is mutual." You look away, and in a second you decide to contemplate why agreeing to be his fake girlfriend would be a bad decision, and why you would do it anyway. “Okay, but you know you can't call me darling. And stop looking at my chest, perv."

Tom laughs, looking up your chest into your eyes.

"It's not my fault you have worn that dress, but it seems that despite everything you didn't have a boy's body all this time. Congrats."

"Idiot."

Tom and his dreamy eyes smile as he opens the glass door for you, stepping aside so you can go out onto the field and do the performance of your life, which you discover would be more difficult than you thought as both of you approach the table on the left side of the place, where your family - made up of your mom, your dad and your older brother - are with his. So, in silence, and to let them be the ones to carry out the conversation of your supposed relationship, Tom remains standing next to you, leaving a space between Harry and him for you.

"Oh, yeah. Last night I got the iPad with the script of the Devil all the time." You say, to continue the conversation that your brother Ethan started, smiling at you. "My character falls in love with the poor and broken Arvin Russell."

Tom chuckles.

“And (Y/N) is a cold and rich bi—… girl who treats me like shit until I save her from her dad, the reverend and the crazy couple of rapists. I think you will play that role very well, love." And again and against your will, Tom brings you closer to him placing his arm around your waist, so close that his proximity makes you red.

So much so that you must place a hand on your exposed chest so that his gaze does not fall on that specific place.

“Bet your pretty ass I will. And then we will flee together into the sunset with a happy ending after killing 4 people."

His family and yours are too stunned to say a word, but just at the moment when you think they will shout hallelujah to the sky or to mention you are Frenemies, Dom makes a fist and a victory gesture with a loud yes!

“I told you they would be together before they were 25! pay me!" He yells happily at your dad, who, next to him, grunts as he searches for his wallet in his pants.

“Couldn't you wait until you turned 25, honey? It was only a few months away."

"What the hell?" Tom says, watching your father leave a $100 bill in Dom's hand.

"It's a silly thing they did when they were drunk." Nikki says, as she joins her hands in prayer just like your grandfather, just as happy as he. "It was about time you decided to be together."

"I didn't know that Tom could love someone other than Tessa." Your brother jokes.

"I didn't know anyone could love Tom more than Tessa." Harry jokes, but in his eyes you can see that part of him means it.

"Is this serious?" Your mom says, raising an eyebrow.

"It is." Tom says, and his voice is as solemn as his expression. "Mom, Dad, everyone, I want to marry this woman... someday."

Along with the expressions of happiness and surprise, theirs and yours, your brother breaks the silent while looking like a hawk at Tom.

"Her favorite color?"

"Blue." He answers, without missing a second.

"Favorite book?"

"Jane Austin's Pride & Prejudice."

"Coffee, hot or cold?"

"It depends on the season."

"Seafood?"

"Banned forever."

"Very well, you have my blessing to marry my sister." Your brother nods, like a wise old man, while you, foolishly, think of two things, how quickly he responded, and how well he knew you.

"Just that?" You question, partly offended. "Why better not give him 2 cows for my honor?"

"That's a good idea." Tom responds. "We already have a chicken so..."

You snort just like the idea of Tom buying a chicken just because there were no eggs in the store is spinning in your head, but at that very moment, your words die on your lips as Rose, your aunt and your grandfather's eldest daughter, has taken the command of the party to indicate that the most important thing of the night has arrived: the dance that your grandfather and grandmother used to have, when she was still alive.

Like a fairy tale, every couple in love gathers in the center of the garden while the song “Put your head on my shoulder” by Paul Anka begins to float in the London air that is suddenly flooded with love, to such an extent point that threatens to drown you in it.

"Would you like...?" Tom is nervous, and lets the question hang in the air.

Your breathing becomes agitated, it becomes irregular as your parents and his join the other couples, wild as your heart that beats with the fierceness of a caged animal seeking freedom.

You want to say no, but the crystallized look and happiness that you achieve in your grandfather's eyes are the impulse you need to avoid breaking his heart with the truth.

"Okay."

Tom takes your hand gently and guides you to the makeshift dance floor, placing his hands on your waist to imitate the elders.

Inside and out, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was still as beautiful as the first one he saw you when you were children; but of course, now as adults, everything was different: you were stronger, more mature, more self-confident, wilder and indomitable. But Tom didn't judge your insecurity, he never did, because you had trouble trusting in a future love that could be so real that it seemed a fairy tale - like the ones your father had read to you before bed - as deep as Roy's pain at losing his beloved Jules.

And it is then that Tom realized everything.

That's why you didn't want to be called darling, just because your grandfather used to call his great love that way. Why you never had a boyfriend. Of why you had never wasted your love giving it to someone you knew you would never have a future with, just the way he did with Hannah. Of why you have never been able to give your sincere love to someone else.

Because we're so hopeful at the beginning of things, it seems that there is only one world to gain, nothing to lose, and suddenly, we lose someone whom God knew we deeply love, leaving us with nothing but a void where there must be a beating heart.

And that's when the applause dies down, the silence overwhelms you two, time runs out and life forces you to look into each other's eyes to wonder, without words, why you did the things you did and the things you didn't.

"I'm in love with you."

"Don't."

You say the words at the same time, although they are not the words you expect to hear from the other.

And then you smile sadly, slightly because you no longer have the strength, because your body seems numb from the little alcohol you have drunk and because it seems that the world is leaning to one side with his love confession, but you also smile because Tom still has that adorable face, and a funny eyebrow that you were dying to fix. Just for fun. Just to touch him.

"You're not in love with me, you're just sad about Hannah." You whisper, desperately waiting for the song you have loved for so long to come to an end so you can flee from his arms.

"No, you don't understand, now I can see that it's you, it's always been you." Tom hates himself because he can't put his feelings and his memories into words, but his hands secure you in your place so that you don't leave, not before he can tell you a little of what he was hiding in his mind. “Since we were children I held your hand: in kindergarten, on the way home, to the park around the corner. I don't know why it is now that I can see you, always there in every step of my life, being my best friend even when we said words to annoy each other. I don't know much about love, but I know that it should make you feel good, give you peace, and that's what I feel with you. I feel at home with you, no matter where we are. And we have been in several countries away from home, but you feel like my home. And I am in love with you, and I only ask that you give me the opportunity to love the way you deserve to be loved."

You have a world of words, sharp as a knife, that could kill his confession, but against all, and because this is the first time you feel in love, you lift your hand from his shoulder, a little shaky, to brush your thumb against his brow, soft, delicate and loving, as a lover should be when loving someone for the first time.

"I still hate you."

Tom smiles and you both share a look of hope, staying in the foreground, just to be a participant in the main scene of this beautiful love story that would only be the beginning of a long night in the bright sky of your lives, the one that is like a painting made of watercolors, colors that spill over each other just to create a perfect combination, just like you two together in the eyes of any art lover.

"Not me, no. I love you."

And after that, Tom leans down a bit, feeling the softness of your lips in a real kiss, the first of many to come.

@averyfosterthoughts @galaxies-of-the-heart @heartofholland

#tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x actress!reader

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little-lizziej · 3 years

Text

"Will you talk to him?" Alya asks Marinette as she takes a seat on her chase, the soft cushions support Marinette's back as she talks with Alya.

"No" the bluenette shakes her head. "I broke them up, I'm the reason his heart got broken." Marinette lets out a sigh before lifting her legs and hugging them. "How am I supposed to even look at him?" She asks.

Alya looks at her best friend with pity, she had earlier said that out of everyone Adrien deserved love the most, but she had been wrong. She deserves it the most. Marinette deserves it the most. "It's not your fault Marinette" Alya shakes her head.

"Yes it is" She whispers, cutting her best friend off.

"No!" Alya exclaims and stands up from the chaise frustratedly. "It's Kagami's fault, yes you liked him! You loved him! But you also respected him...and her!" She yelled as she started pacing around the room. She just couldn't believe it, Kagami managed to make her best friend believe this was her fault when it wasn't.

"A relationship isn't made out of three people Marinette, and she shouldn't have talked to you about it, she should've talked to her boyfriend about it. You don't owe anything to her, he does. Because he is in the relationship"

"I was still a bad friend! Maybe I'm not in the relationship but I am her friend...and friends don't do that. I had to respect her and her boundaries because of our friendship and that's final"

"A friend?" Alya asks with a scoff. "You think what she did was friend-approved?"

Marinette stays silent, she knows Kagami was indeed a bad friend. Friends don't make them ignore their feelings or friends, they don't hurt each other. They encourage and respect each other's feelings.

Marinette shrugs her shoulders as she lets out a tired sigh. "She was a bad friend" She whispers with a nod, "but she liked him...and I know better than anyone that love makes you do crazy things"

"You also know how to love" Alya narrows her eyes at the wall as she sits beside Marinette. "You know how to love your friends"

"I think she's just confused"

"I don't care" Alya grits out, "you hate being selfish so I'll be selfish for you. You were here first, you liked him first. You loved him first"

"I don't even know what love is" Marinette cuts her best friend off. "Maybe I wasn't in love with him...maybe I just loved him as a friend"

...

"Kagami stop" Adrien clenches his jaw as he watches his ex girlfriend approach him once again. He takes several steps back and tires to maintain the distance between them.

"Adrien please!" She whines, "I-I made a mistake!"

"No Kagami!" He yells without a care about who listens. "You hurt her"

"So what if I did? She's just Marinette!"

"Just Marinette? She's the nicest and most caring girl I've ever met. She has done absolutely nothing to you!"

"She loves you!" Kagami yells and instantly regrets it. He didn't know that. Adrien didn't know that.

"No she doesn't!" The young model shakes his head in denial.

"Stop being so oblivious Adrien! Why do you think she made you that scarf on your birthday? Or why she has so many pictures of you on her wall? Or why she stutters and gets super nervous when you're around? She's in love with you!"

"She made that scarf?" He asks her unable to think about anything else.

"That's not important!" Kagami rolls her eyes and hears him approaching.

"Yes it is!" Adrien yells as he grabs her softly by the shoulders. "Kagami we are not getting back together"

"Fine" Kagami whispers after a few seconds, she opens the door of his room and looks back at him. "It's your loss anyways" she grins before slamming the door closed.

Adrien lets out a sigh as he sits down on his bed with his hands pulling at his hair. "Grr I swear if you had just let me at her!" Plagg exclaims as he comes out of his hiding spot. "I hate that girl!"

"Why do you hate her?" Adrien asks.

"She hurt Marinette, no one touches my princess" the black kwami growls. "She makes the best cheese puffs!" He adds before letting out a dreamy sigh.

Adrien stays silent, he can't help but think about Kagami's words. She's in love with you. She's in love with me. Those two sentences keep repeating over and over in his head. Plagg glances at his holder and tilts his head to the side in wonder. "What are you thinking about kid?" He asks him.

"Do you think Marinette is in love with me?" He lifts his head and watches Plagg.

Plagg's eyes widen as he takes another bite put of his Camembert cheese. He swallows before taking a deep breath, "well..."

"What?" The young model asks him with a frown.

"I need more cheese" Plagg groans. Suddenly, a shoe flies his way. Plagg dodges the shoe and places his hand on his chest. "Well someone has issues" he mumbles under his breath before letting out a laugh. "Oh I'm so funny!"

"Plagg!" Adrien exclaims.

"Ok ok!" Plagg yells as he throws his hands in the air. "I think she is in love with you...can I have more cheese now?"

"Ugh" Adrien groans, "this just complicates everything"

"I thought you already knew?"

"I knew she liked me! Not loved me!"

"Potato, poTaTo it's the same thing" Plagg rolls his eyes and shrugs. He just couldn't believe his holder was complicating things so much. If he was in this position with his Camembert he would just eat it. He wouldn't complicate his life so much.

"It's not! You don't get it Plagg, my father has never said he loved me! The only person that's said it is Kagami. How am I supposed to know how to feel?"

"You love her kid" Plagg sighs as he approaches Adrien and sits on his shoulder. "Just don't hurt her"

...

The classroom is filled with chatter as usual, only this time there is only one topic to talk about. Why did Kagami and Adrien break up?

Maybe it's none of their business, but they can't help but wonder why? And how it affected not only Adrien but a certain bluenette. To say they're worried is an understatement, said bluenette has been there for every single person in the class, even Sabrina and Lila.

It's only natural for the class to feel worried about their friend, she's always supported and helped them in every way possible. She's always been an amazing person to count on, and although they do like Adrien, the place Marinette holds in their hearts is far bigger.

"Hey guys!" Greets Adrien as he walks into the classroom. Everyone immediately quiets down and stares at him.

"Hey dude" smiles Nino and holds out his fist. With a smile, Adrien bumps his fist against Nino's. "How are you feeling dude?" Upon te question everyone listens in, eager to know how their friend has taken the break up.

"Surprisingly ok" Adrien chuckles with a shrug. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief but doesn't stop worrying. There is after all a certain designer who is yet to confirm her feelings.

"Adrien" Alya greets him with a nod, she isn't sure how to feel, a part of her is happy for him. Maybe the model hadn't realized it himself but...his relationship had started becoming toxic.

Without a doubt many had noticed, but said nothing. Their opinion hadn't been asked and Adrien looked happy. They, however, couldn't stay out of it anymore. Adrien wasn't only getting affected by this, but Marinette was too.

The young designer knew how much her friend deserved, and to see the way his own girlfriend and father treated him killed her.

"Good morning everyone!" Said Ms.Bustier as she walked through the door. Everyone greeted her back and sat down in their respective seats.

"I'm here!" Marinette yelled as she ran inside the classroom, late true to Marinette's fashion. "I'm sorry madam!" The bluenette ducked her head as she apologized and made her way to her seat.

Because her head was firmly on the floor, Marinette didn't catch Adrien looking at her dreamily.

"It's alright Marinette just don't let it happen again" Ms.Bustier sighs knowing very well it will happen again.

"Can I talk to you after class Marinette?" Asks Adrien after he turns to look at the bluenette. Marinette's eyes widen before she quickly nods and shifts her gaze away from him. "Great" Adrien says with a grin.

Eventually the class ends and the classroom empties, "where uh...do you want to talk?" Marinette asks Adrien refusing to meet his eyes. Although it cant be further form the truth, Marinette couldn't help but firmly believe that in just a few seconds she'd be blamed for her friend's broken heart.

"I'm sorry Kagami made you feel that way Marinette" Adrien apologizes and reaches for the blunette's hand. He laces his fingers with hers as he lightly tugs on her hand pulling her closer. "I never ever want to loose you" he whispers.

"It's all my fault" Marinette mutters looking away from him, "you shouldn't be apologizing"

"It was never your fault" Adrien denies as he shakes his head. "Kagami shouldn't have done that, she shouldn't have gotten in between our friendship"

"Did you get hurt?" Marinette whispers making the model chuckle and shake his head once again.

"You ignoring me hurt a lot more than Kagami leaving me" he smiles as he grabs Marinette by the waist.

"Really?" Marinette asks finally looking at him.

"Yeah" Adrien whispers, "did you make that scarf for me on my birthday?"

Marinette's eyes widen as she recalls the blue scarf. "H-how did you-"

"So you did" Adrien interrupts her. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks.

Marinette shrugs and squeezes his hand, smiling when the action is returned. "You looked so happy and I...I didn't want to take that away from you"

Adrien looks at Marinette with wide eyes, no one had ever cared about him so much. A warm feeling takes over him as butterflies appear on his stomach making him feel all kinds of ways.

"Do you love me Marinette?" Adrien asks feeling hopeful.

"I-I used to, but I shoved those feelings away when Kagami and you started dating"

"So not anymore?"

"No" Marinette shakes her head, "not anymore"

Adrien's stomach sinks at her words. It's such a shame he finally realized he loved her just as she stopped loving him.

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#adrienette #fiction #kagami x marinette #ladrien #ladynoir #luka x marinette #lukanette #marichat #miraculous chat noir #miraculous fanart #adrien agreste #miraculous adrien #miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #ladybug and chat noir #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #tales of ladybug and cat noir

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Note

I know you've currently got quite the list already, but could i request an X Drake and Jewelry Bonney fic with the prompt "Birthday Cake"? It can be platonic or romantic, as there isn't as much of an age gap between them (Oda says even he isn't really sure of her real age due to her powers), but go with what you're comfortable with. I just like someone as stern but secretly shy as Drake interacting with a woman as rough and boisterous as Bonney, lol.

Here’s your latest request, love! It is definitely the sauciest thing I have ever written and you can jot that down to my headcanon that Bonney is a flirtatious little devil queen. Fufufufu, I hope you enjoy it

Icing on the Cake

Bonney released a loud, contented sigh as she plopped down onto the bar chair, leaning against its wooden back as she propped her booted feet on the small table. She slung her arm lazily over the shoulder and twirled the luscious strands of her bubblegum-pink hair around her finger while flashing a wink at the very uncomfortable waiter. He flushed the color of her hair before whirling on his heel to scurry off to the bar, because the entirety of the staff already knew what “Big Eater” Bonney liked to partake in. This particular bar was one of her favorite haunts, and regardless of where she was or what she was doing, she always made a voyage to this island at a particular time of the year…

This bar, of all the many restaurants Bonney had frequented in her life, simply had the most delectable, delicious, irresistible birthday cake that she had ever tasted!

The bar had been anticipating her arrival, as most of the patrons consisted of her crew, who were already in various states of drunk. Plates and glasses had already begun flying about, and the poor cleaning staff were struggling to maneuver brooms through the writhing, sweaty bodies to sweep away the glass, because the rowdy pirates would surely turn on them once they got a glass shard to the sole of their foot. A large flagon of cream soda was delivered to Bonney’s waiting hand. Normally, of course, she would drown herself in alcohol like the rest of her mates, but the bitter taste of beer went horribly with the sweet birthday cake! No, tonight, Bonney was going to deliver herself to a sugar coma rather than a drunken stupor.

A big smile painted her face as she sloppily chugged on the frothy soda, a faint line of fizz decorating her face as she slammed it down and demanded another. Balancing the chair on two legs as she contentedly eased it back and forth, Bonney was relaxed despite the raucous atmosphere. Birthday cake~ Birthday cake~ she chanted blissfully in her mind, swinging her finger about to the tune. Everywhere else she would be slamming her fists and hurling chairs if she didn’t immediately have her food, but this was the rare instance in which patience was well rewarded. Drool began to pool in the corner of her mouth as she imagined it being brandished on a silver platter, an entire tiered strawberry and cream cake being presented to her and her only… Ooh, she could literally taste the creamy buttercream on her tongue already! She clicked her tongue as she reeled her mind back in, lest she truly become irritable at waiting. She didn’t want to hound the kitchen staff at the expense at her delicious cake, after all…

The door to the bar was suddenly slammed open. Everyone in the bar hall, including Bonney, whirled their heads about to stare in awe at whoever dared to trespass on what was temporarily the pirate lass’s domain. Her mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk as she recognized the large, hulk, intimidating form of Marine-turned-pirate X Drake. His sharp blue eyes scanned the disheveled bar scene until they landed on Bonney’s lounging, grinning form.

“My, my. It seems this bar is already taken.” Bonney released a coquettish whimper as his low, rumbling, deep voice graced her pretty little ears; Bonney’s love of men nearly rivaled her love of food, and she would be a fool to deny that the muscled ginger cut a very attractive figure. His eyes were trained on her, waiting for her reaction, and Bonney instantly shifted into coy vixen mode. With a girlish flutter of her eyelashes, she began tracing intricate patterns into the exposed skin of her thigh and shifted her body to give him a healthy view of her assets.

“Nonsense, Drake,” she cooed invitingly. “The more the merrier. Come sit with me a while

Bonney refused to remove her feet from the table as Drake dragged a chair over to sit across from her; after all, her long, shapely legs were one of her best features, and like hell she wasn’t going to have them on full display for her handsome suitor. “Tell me,” she hummed while continuing to paint invisible patterns in her milky smooth skin, “what brings X Drake to this little spot in the sea?” His eye flickered uncomfortably to her swirling finger before darting back up to her.

“What brings Jewelry Bonney to this little spot in the sea?” he countered calmly. She fell back into the chair with an airy laugh; oh, he was playing along, how fun! She tilted her head, exposing her neck to him with every amount of suggestiveness, and eyed him good-humoredly.

“Oh, were you not aware? It’s my birthday, and this little joint happens to have the best birthday cake in all the Grand Line!” His expression remained stony.

“Happy birthday.” She pursed her lips in a disappointed pout, finally bringing her legs down from the table only to plaster her large chest across its surface; the blush crept further up Drake’s thick neck as they nearly spilled out of her flimsy ruffled tank top.

“Oh, Drakey, honey, surely you can manage more feeling than that?” she whined pitifully. “You make me think you don’t care!” The corner of his mouth tugged down into a very painful frown. Bonney was not one to let up the chase. The chair’s legs piercingly scraped the floor as she dragged it closer to him to wrap a dainty little hand around his thick bicep. His ears were burning pink now, and he looked away with a grunt as it blazed over his cheeks.

“What are you doing, woman?”

“Why, I’m just enjoying the company of a sexy man~” she answered unabashedly. “There’s nothing else to do while I wait for my birthday cake, so I might as well have a little fun Ahaha! Could he be shy with women? A weakness I never expected from him, but amusing all the same! “What is it?” she asked with a striking but false change in mood, her eyes growing big and wide and her lips poking out in a sad little pout. “Do you not think I’m pretty?” One of her many talents was crying on command, so it was nothing to will a few sparkling tears into her big brown eyes.

“What? I- no- of course- um,” he began stammering uncontrollably. As his face turned the color of a tomato, Bonney simply couldn’t help but begin chortling; oh, how easy it was to fluster him! “Y-you’re a very striking young lady…” he admitted after repairing the short-circuit in his frazzled brain. Bonney squealed in delight and then all but jumped into his lap, hooking her long legs at either side of the chair while she pressed her lower abdomen against his. Drake’s back slammed into the back of the chair in a pitiful effort to put distance between them, but the wooden structure prevented his escape. Chuckling darkly as her eyes glittered hungrily, she began running her nails lightly up and down his chiseled, exposed pectoral and abdominal muscles.

“Tell me, how do you get muscles like these? Your workout regimen must be brutal,” she tutted in mock sympathy.

“What are you doing?” he growled through clenched teeth. Bonney clicked her tongue and lightly tapped the underside of his chin.

“Oh, lighten up, honey; it’s just a bit of fun, like I said. What, do you not enjoy a strapping young fox like me on your lap? You want a little younger? Or a little older?” she asked tauntingly, using her Devil Fruit powers to alter her appearance in accordance to her questions. Drake had his head tilted back and eyes trained on the ceiling. Ah, his resistance was so much more satisfying than him drooling at her feet! His large hands suddenly jumped up to wrap firmly around her upper arms.

“This is not my idea of fun.” His tense growl was in direct opposite to the sneaking glance he shot at her cleavage. Bonney cooed like a dove, leaning forward to very purposefully press them against the X-mark tattooed to his chest. Her hand swept up to his head, knocking off his flared hat to begin teasing his styled golden-orange hair. “You are playing a dangerous game,” he warned with a pointed look, but this time made no effort to cease her ministrations. Bonney bit down on her tongue, giving a pleased wriggle on his lap as he began to relinquish himself to her teasing clutches.

“I love dangerous games,” she breathed against his face, eyelashes fluttering like innocent butterflies. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper arm as he wrestled with his own pride and self-control; she was having such a way with him so easily, so of course the poor thing was resisting it. A vein was bulging in his forehead from how hard he was trying to curb Bonney’s temptations. Slowly, very slowly, his hands loosened and slid down her slim arms to settle at the curved juncture of her waist and hips. “Atta boy, Drakey,” she applauded, awarding him with another sensual fidget on her throne.

“I don’t know who’s the dangerous one here, me or you,” he laughed dryly. The man was finally beginning to enjoy himself, judging from the deprecating leer he was wearing. Bonney snickered as she traced the X-shaped scar decorating his prominent chin.

“Definitely me.” Her brown eyes flickered to the door of the kitchen as it was thrust open, and finally, finally, her birthday cake was ready. It was a massive specimen, made of four spongey tiers laden with buckets of thick white icing with gobs of bright pink icing painting the edges. It was covered in round rainbow sprinkles which were raining down onto the wooden floor as the three cooks hobbled towards the table, burdened by its massive weight. Bonney clapped her hands together with a trill of glee and whirled around so that her back was now resting against Drake’s broad chest.

“Are you really going to eat all that?” he asked with obvious concern. Bonney tutted and reached behind her to pat his cheek.

“Oh, honey, you really do know nothing about me. We’ll have to amend that,” she sighed deeply in play hurt. Her expression didn’t convey that in the slightest, however; her starving eyes were like glittering smoky quartz as she licked her lips, beholding the ginormous birthday cake as it was slid onto the table, ripe for her taking. Bonney was not one for propriety; she wasn’t going to take this baby a slice at a time. No sooner had the head chef handed her a large fork did she stab into the bottom tier of the cake, revealing the rich strawberry cake concealed beneath the curtain of white. She heard Drake choke as she shoveled a huge mass of the cake into her mouth. Instantaneously, she was delivered to the realm of sugary bliss. The strawberry cake was just the perfect texture and burst in sweet-tart sambas across her tongue, while the saccharine creamy icing waltzed in slower but no less powerful tunes in conjunction. With a small groan of pleasure, she melted against the very confused and confusingly aroused man seated beneath her petite frame. After the sweet fog cleared from her mind, she grinned devilishly and looked up at Drake, making quite a show of licking excess icing from the corner of her mouth.

“How cruel. You’re going to make me sit here and watch while I get nothing?” The way his deep bass voice rumbled against her back was so nice to Bonney. Coyly, she pressed a finger to her lips as feigned mulling the prospect over. Of course, there was no way in hell she was going to sacrifice even one sliver of her birthday cake to him, at least not yet… But, there was a way she could spin the situation further into her favor.

“Oh, what to do? You have been so generous in keeping me entertained, so perhaps I can let you have just a little taste,” she reasoned as she rolled her gaze around thoughtfully before landing on his face once more. Eyes trained on the smug and amused X Drake, she dipped a finger in the thick icing before smearing it all over her slightly puckered lips. His eyebrows shot up to the roots of his hair, and Bonney laughed delightedly while kicking the floor with the soles of her boots at the return of his bashfulness. He gulped and stared hard at the sweet icing decorating her soft and oh so very kissable lips. “What is it, Drakey?” she asked while twisting to the side to lounge against his thick arm, which was draped over the edge of the table. “You’d better hurry before I change my mind,” she said while teasingly flicking the top of her bottom lip with the very tip of her tongue.

“You are a seductress,” he snarled huskily at her in a blend of frustration and hilarity. Bonney arched her back into him as his face descended quickly over hers, hungry lips devouring hers in an instant. Bonney’s hand played with his now-mussed tufts of ginger hair as his tongue greedily licked every trace of icing from her lips. Of course he didn’t stop there; as Bonney laughed lightly, it dove into her mouth to tangle heatedly with her own, and she found the flavor of him mixing with the sweet taste of the icing to be simply immaculate. Happy birthday to me~

Bonney had ventured to this little hole-in-the-wall, backwater island for some simple birthday fun, but landing a big, tough, manly playmate for the night was definitely the icing on the cake…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

Tag List: @searchfortheonepiece

#one piece #bondrake #drake x bonney #bonney x drake #jewelry bonney #jewellrey bonney #x drake #diez drake #x drake x jewelry bonney #jeweldrake #romance #spicy #fluff #oneshot #oneshot collection #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic

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im-a-goner-foryou · 5 years

Text

Starker Valentine's Day 2019 for the prompt 'first I love you's ', this is also my first songfic so please go easy on me

Love

/lʌv/

Wise men say only fools rush in

Tony Stark doesn't do love. He's a mechanic, through and through-- he sees things as they are, for their practical uses, views the world through a rational lens, and love is something entirely illogical.

Love, as Tony had been taught all those years ago, is something that if he can't help but feel, at least shouldn't be expressed. To wear your emotions on your sleeve is to admit weakness, as Howard had said-- or rather slurred while waving off Tony's attempt at a goodnight hug in favour of pouring himself another glass of bourbon, and after much more similar occurrences the he eventually took his father's words to heart.

It takes a while for Tony to realise otherwise, to go from instinctively recoiling from the look of concern in Rhodey's eyes as he chides "go to sleep Tones, it's late" or a gentle caress of his head from Pepper, to slowly but surely welcoming those silent acts of love; and it takes longer before he begins to reciprocate. Even then he's hesitant, cautious as he takes his first steps and reverting back to his signature snark at the first sign of apathy, the possibility of being hurt.

Tony loves carefully.

But I can't help falling in love with you

Then he meets Peter Parker-- who loves so openly, so easily. And their differences should frighten Tony, yet inexplicably he finds himself drawn to this boy who's much too young to realise that while falling in love may be easy, love itself certainly isn't. It's... a nice change, being around someone so artlessly candid-- maybe, just maybe-- Tony hopes silently to himself, he won't have to hide behind his usual four walled defences this time against such genuine feelings.

Shall I stay?

The first time Peter raises his voice at him is to cry "if you even cared, you'd actually be here," and just like that Tony's taken back to all those years ago, in his MIT graduation gown and around the same age Peter is now; hand clutched tightly around his phone with Howard on the other end while he stood lonesome among celebrating families. That memory stings like a slap would, leaves Tony feeling almost raw-- and when he steps out of his armour there on the rooftop, he feels more vulnerable than he ever has been.

"I just wanted to be like you," the boy whispers quiet enough for his words to be almost blown away with the wind, and it's like a sucker punch to Tony's stomach.

"I wanted you to be better," Tony simply replies Peter-- and himself.

Would it be a sin

Tony feels the beginnings of a wave of butterflies erupting in his stomach as he watches the boy leave the Avengers compound, and he feels sick. Peter's hazel hair glints gold under the sunlight streaming through the panelled windows and curls sweetly around his ears; and Tony has to resist the sudden and overwhelming urge that overtakes him then to run his fingers through those silky locks.

If I can't help falling in love with you?

Peter is sixteen. Tony starts drinking himself to sleep once more, yet the bottles of liquor lying shattered around him and burning bitter at the back of his throat aren't enough to block out the yearning deep in him for the boy, to hold him close and keep him far away at the same time. Tony thinks of bright eyes that crinkle at the edges with laughter and beautiful chocolate-brown pupils, and then one day he just can't deny the feelings he harbours for his young protégé any longer.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Peter always has been incredibly perceptive; it's likely he found out how Tony felt even before Tony himself. On his seventeenth birthday the man goes all out and is in one of the rare moments in his life grateful for the title 'billionare'-- he flies the both of them out to one of his favourite restaurants in Venice for a comfortable candlelit dinner by the canal; and when Peter dissolves into another one of that giggly laughter at something Tony said, the older man finds himself absolutely enthralled, unable to look away.

He's still staring at those pouty, rosy pink lips and wondering how they would feel against his, when he finds out only seconds later-- Peter makes the first move, leaning forward across their table to press their mouths together so painfully shy and sweet, and Tony--

Some things are meant to be

He kisses back, and feels the last of his fortifications crumble away at the happy little sigh Peter exhales into their joined mouths.

Take my hand, take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you

Tony Stark soon learns about himself that he's really a hopeless fool for love, when it comes to a certain bright boy who easily keeps up with him in the workshop and challenges Tony with his brilliance every day, who reminds him to go to sleep early but also brings him hot chocolate during those particularly dark starless nights and kisses away his tears until they finally fall asleep tangled up together, who's also a dork when it comes to Star Wars and the Avengers, who has a heart filled to the brim and yet still manages to find the capacity, is unafraid to love some more.

It probably was never meant to last, the hurting eight-year-old in Tony reminds him.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

"There was no other way," Stephen's parting words hang heavy in the still air; dimly Tony wishes the words were the ones disintegrating instead, his knees buckling underneath his weight even before he hears the soft whimper from behind him. No, no, no.

Not you, too.

Peter wastes his last few moments clutching at him desperately, and Tony just wants to cry because there's nothing he can do, and he's never felt so utterly helpless as he does in this moment. "I don't-- I don't know what's happening," the boy rasps, the usual bright undertones of his voice now longer present and only to be replaced with something raw and hurting; it's now does it finally occur to Tony that maybe he's not the only one who puts on a mask.

"I don't wanna go, I don't wanna go..." Peter begs almost childishly, his extreme youth so incredibly obvious now. Tony grips him by the waist, holds him close and cradles him through it, which is the least he can do-- the only thing he can do. The eerie golden light setting across this strange planet casts shadows on those beautiful eyes, swimming with tears as they look at Tony in a way only the boy could.

"I'm sorry," are the last words Peter whispers--why, why?-- before slipping away from Tony's arms and leaving behind a mere empty shell of a broken man.

Tony realises he's never said those three little words to Peter, even though their months together; he never gasped the significance of "I love you" until he thinks he'll never be able to say it.

Take my hand, take my whole life too

"I'm sorry," are the words that replay like a broken recorder in his dying mind, plauging him the most when Tony sits alone on that barren planet and ignores the warning signals from the spaceship that oxygen levels are running low. I'm sorry, too.

But with those oxygen-deprived hallucinations come memories too; of them both dancing in the corner of one of Tony's fancy fundraisers, the boy's arms clinging around his shoulders and head resting on his chest as they sway to the soft music in the background, of Peter falling asleep at the desk after working hard on a particularly difficult assignment and Tony draping a blanket over him, of late drives down the highway in a convertible so Peter's yells of joy fade away into the night, of waking up in the morning to the smell of coffee and the sight of Peter in a flowery pink apron bustling around the kitchen, and Tony walking up to him to whirl him around by a hand on his hip to kiss him soft and sweet.

Through his entire life, there's only one person that Tony's certain he's ever loved the most he could. And now Tony tries his best to bring him back.

It's a long arduous process for sure, but Tony after all, is a mechanic through and through. He fixes the spaceship to send him and Nebula to earth, and he defends it just like he always has-- he fights, mind clinging to thoughts of Peter; just in case he doesn't make it, he wants that endlessly loving gaze to be the last thing he sees.

They win in the end, and bring all the fallen back. Even as Tony stumbles weakly onto his feet he ignores the burning sharp pain at his side, heart racing, eyes already blurring with tears-- though despite them he still manages to catch sight of those chestnut brown wide eyes among the others, and he doesn't hesitate. Tony sprints towards and holds a weeping Peter close to his chest, clutching at him with the intention of never letting go; his heart aches with a feeling that he welcomes readily, croaks into the boy's ear.

"I love you." He fiercely kisses Peter; the boy sobs harder in his arms. "I love you," Tony finally expresses plainly, against the palm pressed reverently against his lips.

For I can't help falling in love with you

And Peter says it back, the way every single part of Tony knew he would. "I love you too."

Love, Tony Stark knows, is illogical. It hurts, and yet people still chase it so eagerly.

But love is worth it.

For I can't help falling in love with you

#starker #starkervalentinesday2019 #well i tried i guess #sorry if this isn't coherent i wrote it emotional and exhausted at 3am #also have i mentioned the weakness i have for elvis presley #anywho #peter x tony #drabble #angst #songfic #fluff

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soap-brain · 7 years

Note

My prompt isn't part of the hug list and is kind of really angsty so feel free to ignore it if you want! XD I've read a lot of stories where the authors had Spock act like an asshole to make Jim run into Spock Prime's arms and it always makes me sad because I feel that it's unfair to expect Spock to act like his counterpart when SP had decades to accept his human side (1)

(2) so here's my prompt. Spock catches SP and Jim in a intimate situation (kissing or acting intimately or other situations) for whatever reason of your choosing (Spock and Jim had a fight, SP melded with Jim and the emotional transfer made them both act strangely...). The rest is completely up to you :)

it’s finally done!! this was a trip, man. at first i had /no/ idea what to write, how to write it, what you wanted exactly. then i started and it was slow and odd and then it began feeling good as long as i was careful, and now i’m SO PROUD OF THIS!! it’s my new favorite fic (sorry @ His Silver Lady)

i hope you like it though, it’s completely different from what and how i usually write, and i researched some interesting stuff (hey did you know they finished the golden gate bridge in 1937? and did you know there’s already a concept for roads to be replaced with solar panels?? the more you mcfreaking know i guess)

so, without any further ado:AOS Spirk, mentions of AOS Jim Kirk/Spock Prime, mentions of sex, established TOS Spirkwarnings for: a metric ton of sadness and Spock Prime whump, also references to suicide ideation; misuse of Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, ABBA, Pacrim 2, The One With The Whales and a fuckton of odd metaphors

Rating: probably T??Wordcount: 4742

(it’s under a cut because it’s so damn long)

How can I then return in happy plightThat am debarred the benefit of rest,When day’s oppression is not eased by night,But day by night and night by day oppressed,And each, though enemies to either’s reign,Do in consent shake hands to torture me,The one by toil, the other to complainHow far I toil, still farther off from thee?I tell the day, to please him, thou art brightAnd dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild’st the even. But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger.

How do you know something is missing? Something you never had - how do you know you’re missing it? You feel displaced, a bit empty, searching, maybe. It’s certainly not the best feeling there is, but it’s also far from the worst.

Because the worst is having been searching for all your life, and then you find what you were looking for - love and acceptance, given completely unconditionally. And then you lose it.

Of course, you had it. For a while, you were happy. You had everything you could wish for - and more.

And then you lose it.

You lose it and there’s no replacement, because that thing is gone. Forever. It’s not coming back, you can’t get a second one, no second chances, no winning in life.

You’re alone, lost and broken. Forever.

*∞*∞*

Blue. It’s the first thing he notices. Blue, like … like a summer sky. Like a warp trail. Like a science uniform, like the eyes of a dear friend. On the wrong person maybe, but still … still …

Well. He doesn’t quite know what to say. Not … right, certainly not, more like jarringly wrong, like an atrocious deformity. Everything is wrong about the stranger. He’s too tall, too slim, too different, too wrong, not sunshine-and-honey, more starlight-and-ice.

Perfectly wrong, perfectly right.

He’d thought he’d die here, alone, in the cold, finally, maybe, because he’s not entirely sure he wants to see what this universe becomes, out of time out of space out of order infinite entropy in infinite combinations different and wrong and perfectly, perfectly right after such a long time. Like coming home to a new place.

A difficult concept to explain or grasp, without a doubt.

“James T. Kirk.”

The confusion on his face is all wrong, epidermis scrunching up in the wrong places. It’s perfect.

“Excuse me?”

He found him.

“How’d you find me?”

Not that he’s surprised, exactly. This is a Kirk, after all.

“Whoa, whoa. How’d you know my name?” Confusion, worn so beautifully. Not what he wants to see, of course - not how he’d like to see it, certainly! - but … he’s grateful for everything by now.

“I have been, and always shall be, your friend.” It’s a miracle his voice doesn’t break. Or maybe it does, but can you blame him? Miracles like this don’t happen.

He’s not alone anymore, not lost, not broken. Not anymore.

*∞*∞*

My glass shall not persuade me I am old; // So long as youth and thou are of one date.

They have no place in this universe. Or, well, he doesn’t. Jim, Jim, beautiful Jim - he does. He deserves so much. He’s so young, so bright, so fearless, so, so beautiful.

Spock found his missing half again. His t’hy’la, his sun, his everything. Like the universe falling back into alignment, a pendulum with unending weight and no mass.

And then it swings past.

There’s a marvelous ship launching, a goddess in her own right, and her crew is beaming sparkling smiles, turning their backs on Earth with no regrets.

Is this what an abandoned pet must feel like? Watch those it loves and admires turn their backs and walk away, not a glance spared?

His knees want to buckle under the merciless weight of the stars, of years and years lived and forgotten and never happening. Because - because they never were.

Six sets of eyes, blue, brown, golden-sunshine-and-laughter. They never were. And nobody remembers, because they never lived.

Now, they are brown, they are green, they are grey, and a bright, burning blue. Like a shooting star: can’t touch, can’t feel, but all you want to do is latch on. It won’t let you.

What is there to do, when you have nothing? Nothing left, everything taken. Nothing ventured and nothing gained - but. What to venture for? What is there left to fight for?

For the first time in his life it seems like maybe giving up is the right way to go. Maybe - maybe it was enough.

The thoughts don’t come at night, under glittering stars, so far away, held dear in memory. The thoughts don’t come at day, under burning sun, merciless. The thoughts are already here and they won’t leave.

You become used to it.

Have you ever tried reaching out to the stars? Even if they aren’t yours, all wrong because they are exactly the same - have you tried touching them? Fingers stroking over a cheekbone. The eyes should be phoenix-gold, but they’re a morning sky. And the memory is but a dream.

“‘Let me help.’ A hundred years or so from now, I believe, a famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He’ll recommend those three words even over ‘I love you.’”

So he will help. If nobody ever knows who for, then so be it. He can’t chase after a lover that was never his to have.

*∞*∞*

“Do you genuinely believe he likes me?”

Sigh. “He is me, and I do know myself. Yes, Jim. Spock likes you.”

“He doesn’t act like it though.”

So different. So much less calm. Exactly the same.

A smile the other man surely doesn’t see often from him - or his counterpart.

“Vulcan education doesn’t make it easy to act on our feelings, if we even admit we have them.”

“But - he doesn’t even use contractions when speaking! Hell, he told me off for using them in official reports! And you - I’ve heard you parody Bones’ accent!”

“Jim, all I can ask of you is to give my counterpart time and ample supply of possibilities to change. I am over a hundred and ninety years old, and the majority of that time was spent in Human company. It … wears you down, eventually.”

Jim flips the stylus he’d been fiddling with. “I did everything you said though! We’re playing a lot of chess, we have dinner together, I ask to hear him play the lute, I get him little trinkets, I’m trying to be as respectful as I can be, I’m practically flirting with him non-stop - how many more situations should I needlessly and weirdly bend over something? How dense can a guy be!”

“Always so impatient - ack!”

He’s so close all of a sudden, invading a personal bubble that hasn’t been invaded in a long, long time (actually, never. Because it never happened), smelling and feeling wrong, and exactly right.

Feelings are a confusing thing, but is there anything that’s quite as good?

“What’s wrong?”

A hand on his elbow, and bright blues looking worried. A momentary lapse of control, and suddenly it’s so much harder to regain his balance, externally, internally, eternally. Of course it’s his presence that set the timer off, tick-tocking towards doom, the shallow contact on Delta Vega, the most intimate connection, a mind recognizing its counterpart, no matter how distorted.

“Spock. Talk to me!”

“Selek.”

“No, you’re - you’re Spock!”

He sits up again.

“Jim …”

“Is it a medical condition? Do you need a doctor? Oh god, I’ll call Bones right-”

“Jim.”

“Yes?”

“It is, in fact, a medical condition of sorts, but nothing modern medicine can help me with. Or you.”

“What do you mean?”

Sigh. He doesn’t want to lie - his body craves the relief, the closeness, like a starving man craves food, the most delicious buffet laid out right in front of him.

If he touches it, it will wither away, leave, run, snarl in disgust. He won’t be able to survive that. The other alternative - abstinence, depriving himself - seems almost better.

Selek - Spock has never been strong. His mental restraints are mainly born from self-hatred, indoctrinated into him at a very young age. It makes it easier to deny himself.

But it has been so, so very long that he almost wants to give in.

Weariness goes deep - to your skin, after a long day. To your bones, after years. To your soul, after a lifetime of almost only mourning.

“Tell me what’s wrong, so I can fix it.”

Let me help.

‘The history book on the shelf is always repeating itself’, after all.

“I can’t let you. This is something I have to bear myself.”

“No. Nobody is ever alone. Let. Me. Help.”

*∞*∞*

To have known him, to have loved himAfter loneness long;And then to be estranged in life,And neither in the wrong;And now for death to set his seal—Ease me, a little ease, my song!By wintry hills his hermit-moundThe sheeted snow-drifts drape,And houseless there the snow-bird flitsBeneath the fir-trees’ crape: Glazed now with ice the cloistral vine That hid the shyest grape.

Giving in is, in a way, always harder than abstaining. It opens up places inside of you - deep, dark, horribly twisted places. Of why you shouldn’t have given in, ever. Of why you shouldn’t have abstained, ever.

Sensorimotor memory is another fascinating thing. It digs deep and leaves grotesque scars, and touching them again shakes you to your very foundations.

*∞*∞*

The first day feels like happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness. Like seeing the sun for the very first time in your life.

The second day is bittersweet. You can already feel it ending, a bit, even though you’re just cresting the highest peak.

The third day is regret and lack. It’s already over, almost. Sanity is returning.

Hour zero, day zero, ground zero afterwards is disgust. Not normally, no. But in this case - golden head on a pillow, bare shoulders and back covered in marks, a picture of utter exhaustion - it was wrong.

When you’re very young, and your mother tells you off for stealing your sister’s treats, and you’re unhappy and angry with yourself that you did something, took something you had no right to, already loathing the bliss you found in it.

This Jim, with this blue eyes and bright smile - that one hadn’t been meant for Spock. And he took him anyways.

He stands there, in the open bedroom/living space, mug of tea in his hand, looking down at the sleeper, and he resents every mark on the pale skin, every memory revolving around those marks.

There’s a chime at his door and he knows, instinctively, who it is. He allows admittance. There’s nothing to hide. Like a thief caught red-handed.

His counterpart barges in, chock-full with questions, and he stops dead in his tracks.

There’s shock, then there’s realization, and then there’s anger.

Selek watches him. He doesn’t have anything to hide, all his crimes out here in the open for Spock to judge.

“You - you - he.”

Is there anything quite like fury choking your every word? Spock has every right to feel cheated, betrayed, stolen from.

And then his features fall.

“It was you. Not me. You. He wanted you.”

Selek shook his head. “No, Spock. He wanted you. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Why I did what I did? I’m old, Spock. I’m old and foolish and I’m alone. I don’t belong here. I’m weary. I don’t know whether giving in made it worse or better; it doesn’t matter. He’s not meant for me. And he only wanted to help. He doesn’t want me.”

“But … you are more than me. Why - why wouldn’t he choose you?”

“The simplest explanation I can give you is that he’s not my Jim, and I’m not his Spock. There’s a Jim and a Spock in every universe, and they belong together. But … this isn’t my universe, Spock. This isn’t my Jim. My Jim … was different. I’m sorry.”

Spock stares down at the golden head on the pillow, fighting emotions that remain unseen. Selek knows them all.

“I need you to leave,” he chokes out, and Selek nods. Of course.

He dresses himself, puts on shoes, makes for the door.

“There’s a dermal regenerator in the bathroom,” he says. There’s no answer. He doesn’t deserve an answer.

*∞*∞*

Spock sits down, hands shaking, knees suddenly unable to bear his weight. Jim is still motionless, deeply exhausted from -

Something ugly rears its head in Spock, dark and snarling. From servicing his counterpart, taken like some kind of whore. Jim is his, his, his alone, and he wants to hurt Selek, make sure he never lays a hand on Jim again. Illogical? Yes. But justified. Jim is his! Selek should have taken better care of his own Jim, then he would not be alone.

He trails a hand over Jim’s shoulder, fighting the urge to dig his nails in and mark Jim. The Human moves under his touch, pressing against it. Yes. Jim knows who his Spock is.

It is terrifying, if Spock is honest with himself. This urge to mark Jim, claim Jim, like his consent is of no importance.

“Sp’ck?” He’s turned his head, lashes fluttering open and revealing crystalline blues.

“I am here, Jim.”

Jim rolls around more, until he’s on his side. He stares, and then his eyes widen.

“Spock! I - I can explain!” He scrambles to sit, bedsheet pooling around his waist.

“There is no need.” It comes out colder than Spock wanted.

“No, listen, I need to explain. Please!” Jim rubs a wild hand over his face and through his hair. “I - I - I don’t know how to say this, but please listen to me!”

Spock cocks his head.

“I - oh god - I didn’t mean to - look, I had no idea how to interpret the signals I was getting from you, and Selek needed help. Spock, I couldn’t just - I couldn’t just let him die. But … I - Whatever we had, I -” He swallows harshly. “I destroyed it, didn’t I? Everything we could’ve had.”

“I didn’t know you wanted - anything.” Spock exhales. There’s something in his chest, tight and loose at the same time. “I didn’t think you’d want … me.”

“I did. I do. If you still do then I’m, I’ll.”

Spock closes his eyes. He had always tried to quench optimism with realism, or pessimism if his heart grew too bold. He had not dared hope - but he had thought. Had thought of Jim, just Jim, with him. As if nothing else mattered. (It didn’t.)

“I do.” Said quietly, screamed across the rapidly shrinking distance between them.

Jim is smiling. Their foreheads touch without either of them consciously allowing it, so close together.

“I do,” Spock repeats, watching the tentative smile on the Human’s face turn brilliant.

*∞*∞*

It’s an interesting trait, Human sentimentality. Certainly one of the greatest flaws and greatest strengths of their race, decidedly not to underestimate. Take this bridge, for example. 323 years old, it would be considered a waste of space and resources, logically, and would be set for destruction. Maintenance and continued safety checks cost a fortune that could well be invested elsewhere.

If you would propose that same course of action to any of the locals, you would decidedly not endear yourself to them, but the fact remains that the upkeep of the bridge doesn’t follow any kind of logical way of thought.

The paint alone, specially synthesized to protect the ancient materials, costs a fortune. A colorful metaphor for Human sentimentality.

If Selek were another man, one and a half centuries younger, not yet worn down, he would surely have chuckled. A joke. He doesn’t make those very often, the references he makes with his punchlines far too obscure for anyone to understand, and, as in this case, they never happened in the first place.

The sidewalk isn’t made from concrete and stones anymore - a series of large remodeling projects allow all of San Francisco to be powered exclusively by solar panels that have been integrated everywhere. Roads now have a dull shine to them, looking far more finely fashioned than cracked concrete.

Selek wishes for the concrete. Watching where to step, careful to not bump into the man beside him, no matter how much he may want to, yearning for something half-remembered, half-forgotten.

‘Admiral.’ - ‘You used to call me Jim.’

He used to, yes. In another time.

Now, it doesn’t hold the same meaning. Now, it’s a hollow ache, desperation, a void refusing to be filled except with unjust, unhealthy appropriation.

It used to be the warm glow of belonging.

And the yearning for it is a Human feeling, through and through. Sentimentality.

The pier is more or less deserted - it’s hardly the weather for a nice stroll. There’s only one person, ahead of Selek. They’re leaning over the little wall between the walkway and the stony shore, robes flying in the wind.

It’s for the better. As though less people would see Selek’s shame.

It was a selfish act, meant to resurrect whatever he once was and making it about himself. Selek has lived for other people. It used to be his primary enjoyment, fulfilling him.

A life, devoid of meaning now. And for how much longer? Physically, Selek doesn’t feel that old yet, and his luck has been bad. How much longer? Twenty years? How do you live twenty more years after almost a lifetime without your heart, briefest glimpse of happiness, those few years, so long gone?

“And Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”!” the stranger exclaims, pushing away from the little wall. “Oh, you Humans. Always so doomy and gloomy. Find some enjoyment in life! Live a little!” He clasps Selek’s shoulder. “Oh, apologies. You are half Vulcan, after all. But do you hear yourself think? There’s more humanity in you than anything else.”

“Can I help you?”

The stranger winks. “Oh, maybe, yes. Do you happen to know a man by the name of … Admiral James T Kirk?”

Selek stops dead in his tracks.

“How -” His voice fails. “How do you know that name?”

“About 5’10’’, brown eyes, brown hair, a bit curly … used to be blond! He likes horses, Shakespeare, flowers, astronomy … Do you know him?”

“Who are you?!” There’s an age-old anger shaking in his chest, at the name seemingly used in vain by this stranger.

The stranger smiles like a cat that got the cream. “I am one of the Q.”

“What’s your name? Who are you?”

“Q.”

“How do you know - how do you know that? Him.”

“Mmmmmh, let’s just say I have my sources. But if I may: You two were fantastic for each other. A perfect fit.”

I know.

“But then, he had to step on the, what was it, Enterprise-B and, well, the rest is, as they say, history. What a sad story. Such a bright, bright man, and he gets himself killed before his time. Pity.” The stranger grins, entirely too off.

And then he leans close to Selek. “Or did he? He was presumed dead. Did he die, Spock? Did you ever see a body? How do you know that he’s really dead? The bond? What if it broke because he’s inside a singularity that transcends dimensions?”

“What do you want?” Selek is shaking by now.

“It’s called the Nexus. I’m pretty sure he’s still alive in there!”

Selek starts walking again, trying not to shake, not to stumble, keep his lips pressed thinly together and blinking away the overboarding emotions, throat weighed down with ‘Ambassador Spock, sir, apologies for interrupting, but there has been a message from the USS Enterprise-B.’ on top of the scalding emptiness of knives in his heart, memories, memories, loss, over and over.

The hand on his shoulder almost makes him buckle; the bridge offset in dark, garish red against gray skies bleeds away into lush green, a garden, wild, but beautifully maintained, with crops and flowers; a chestnut horse nibbling on some grass, a black cat with a red spotted cravat prancing after butterflies.

“Spock? Spock! There you are! What a feisty kitten! Come here!”

It’s a voice Selek would have recognized anywhere. His heart stops, free-falling; whether it’s relief or breaking, hollow sadness he couldn’t say, nostalgia and fear and yearning and ecstasy mixed together.

The caller comes into focus and Selek can’t help himself but reach out. Just one touch. One fleeting press of fingertips against fabric, against skin, against hair, and he would be content for eternity.

The vision fizzles and fades, replaced instead by the heavy gray around. It’s started to rain. Q is nowhere to be found.

*∞*∞*

“They were thigh-la,” Jim says absent-mindedly, running his fingers over the fabric of Spock’s robe. It is not as though Spock minds - he has waited far too long for this. But Jim’s statement is perplexing.

“They were what?”

“Thigh- Thigh-la? It’s a term Selek used, I think it’s Vulcan.”

“There is no such term. Perhaps you misheard.” “No, no, it’s a thing! Um, they were like … it’s going to sound stupid, but they were - soulmates, so to speak.”

“Oh. You are referring to the bond of t’hy’la.”

“Yeah! Exactly!” Jim sits up to face Spock, excitement sparking from his eyes. Spock finds he misses the warm weight of the Human’s torso against his. “What does it mean, exactly?”

“Like you said. Soulmates.”

“Oh.” Jim leans against Spock again, tethering him back to the universe that is wide open and, for the first time, welcoming. Smiling. Like coming home to a new place.

Then: “Are you angry at him? Selek, I mean.”

Spock allows himself a deep exhale, Jim’s pulse loud in his fingertips on his neck.

“I think … I think I am lucky to be unable to understand his motivation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Selek is … broken, beyond words. I cannot imagine - such a life, only so few years with your counterpart, and then all the time spent alone. I cannot be angry at him for - for being desperate. For wanting.”

“I wanted to help him. I really did. I still do. But … unless we find my counterpart, there’s no helping him, is there?”

“I am afraid not.”

“So he’ll never know love again.”

“No. And not even - what you gave him, Jim, though well-meant - it was not the love he needs. You are not what he needs, even though it is of course easier for him to delude himself to think that you are. I do not blame him.”

*∞*∞*

They see Selek again for their departure, the first time since, well, since. The Enterprise is set to a set of coordinates that presumably hold a singularity, and Selek will be coming with them. Presumably. Dear Creator, Humans certainly are one of the most delightful species.

Command hadn’t given them a reason for any of this, and it hadn’t seemed like any of them even know why the Enterprise needed to go there. The Humans find it odd, but have decided not to argue.

Jim’s only barely keeping himself from touching Spock. They’re not exactly out - Spock had felt the need to inform Nyota, and Jim had of course told Leo, but to everyone else they were still Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, nothing more. Delightful in their insecurity.

Selek holds himself differently, even more of a paradox than he’d been before, more straight, more lively, but like someone else was pulling the strings. Hm. As easy as all these little beings are, they certainly are fascinating. You can never really know how they’ll react.

“I’m happy to have you on board,” Jim ventures. He’d been worried about the old half-Vulcan, but then pre-departure-preps had hit him and he hadn’t found the time to check up on him, and in true Human fashion he had resigned himself to hoping that he was alright.

Selek reaches out to touch his shoulder, and Spock steps closer to Jim, warning, threatening.

“I learned my lesson, Spock. And I’m grateful you didn’t take it amiss. Learn from my mistakes, Spock.”

Selek keeps to himself. The Enterprise shoots through the stars, brimming with eagerness as she always does, always did, in every universe, in every dimension, a beating heart bright like the sun, a beacon of hope. They all hope, each for their own sake, and the ship carries the hope out into the void, a cheerful resistance against inevitability.

Oh, they have no idea.

A flick, a flimmer of thought, and the Enterprise stops, dead, out of power, shining brightly among the eternal night.

Inside, there is mayhem.

They can’t see it of course, but the Nexus is there, waiting. Not an entity that had endeared itself with kindness usually - it’s a grotesque, ugly thing, devouring, feeding off life energy, the immortal souls trapped within. Paradisical for lower lifeforms, no doubt - that was, after all, the Nexus’ spiel - but for anyone with a bit of a mind to see beyond the veil, it appeared more of a parasite.

Its maw was gaping, tongue trying to reach out to the tiny silver ship braving its edges, like a predator in waiting. Thank the Creator for chaining it at the Junction; otherwise, it would’ve been unstoppable.

The old half-Vulcan doesn’t seem to be interested in the when’s and if’s and but’s presented in increasing desperation by the Enterprise’s crew.

“It’s where I have to go. Please, let me. Allow me this one last thing.”

Ah. So he can feel it then. Splendid.

Jim Kirk doesn’t cry as he allows Selek a shuttle and wishes him farewell. Maybe there’s a part of him that understands.

And then the shuttle takes off, a tiny speck of silver, a shooting star, falling right into the abyss, the beast’s open maw. The Enterprise crew doesn’t see it, doesn’t hear it, only the shuttle’s life signals cutting off as though it never was. In a way, it wasn’t. The nonexistent prime timeline dies with Selek - Spock. This one will be different. Far, far different, except for the constants that vein every timeline, every universe, every dimension, a tether to the greater order.

Perhaps it is only merciful to give the Enterprise something to explore here. The Nexus can’t touch them anyways. Their time hasn’t come yet.

So, an oddly colored nebula sparkles into existence, flickering in and out, a proper scientific problem. It will let them discover several properties of dark matter instability years before they should have that knowledge, but then again it’s nothing but a drop in the ocean.

*∞*∞*

The shuttle begins gradually fading away, mattering less and less in this - wherever, whatever. Then, there’s only the forest. Trees rushing in the wind, birds singing, golden sunshine and bright green, stones and leaves crunching underfoot.

The path is narrow but worn, boot prints and hoof prints engraved deep into the ochre soil. Around a bend and over a wooden bridge crossing a stream, until there is a small artfully rusted gate. It swings open easily.

The garden is lush green, wild, but beautifully maintained, with crops and flowers; a chestnut horse nibbling on some grass, a black cat with a red spotted cravat prancing after butterflies.

“Spock? Spock! There you are! What a feisty kitten! Come here!”

There’s the call again.

The rusted metal is real under his fingers; the roses smell lovely and the leaves are green. It’s like coming home to a new place. Different, but home.

*∞*∞*

Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not loveWhich alters when it alteration finds,Or bends with the remover to remove.O no! it is an ever-fixed markThat looks on tempests and is never shaken;It is the star to every wand'ring bark,Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeksWithin his bending sickle's compass come;Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

there we go that was it!!! i really, really hope you enjoyed it, and i’m sorry for the super duper long wait. i’ll post it to ao3 some day, i think, as soon as i manage to come up with a title

thank you for that wonderful prompt, anon!!

if you found every reference and stolen quote, let me know :D

also, disclaimer: i’ve seen the first four eps of tng, that’s how well i know q. i’ve never seen generations, of the poems i used i only ever analyzed one (the last one, aka my favorite). AND ofc it’s not beta read at all or anything, yikes!!! :DD

i think @gumballgladiator wanted to be tagged in this when it’s done? if anyone else wants to be tagged in stuff lmk!!

bye i’ll go to the gym now, i’m mentally exhausted :p

#spirk #aos spirk #spock #jim kirk #spock prime #star trek #star trek aos #fanfic #my writing #this is my non plus ultra i think. wow i love this fic. please be nice to it it's my child #my post #anonymous

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