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naomihatake · 6 months

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In search of freedom (Ch. 5)

5. I've found heaven in hell

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⠀⠀➺ Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol, angst, arguing, tension, tarot readings

Word count: 7,9 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I genuinely hope this chapter is as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm not so sure about it. I tried my best, but I'm certainly proud of the last scene of this chapter. Yes, we finally got to Baratie and Zoro's fight with Mihawk. I'd be very happy to hear your opinions, so let me know what you think <33 Not proofread yet.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

One card fell from her tarot deck from the moment when she started shuffling it: Death.

Nope, she immediately thought to herself.

The witch let out a theatrical sigh and let the cards back in their place, half of her mind completely ignoring the meaning.

No way I'm occupying my mind with such trouble now of all times. I couldn't even sleep last night.

She could think about that later, after she gets a few hours of peace. They were lucky enough to escape from the Marines just a while ago. The answer she received after she came back to her room at the first hours in the morning — when she had just finished her night shift — was ambiguous enough. All she wanted was to breathe some fresh air.

The witch got up from the bed and was ready to leave the girls' room while pulling a large shirt over the tight tank top hugging her curves, leaving it unbuttoned. The hot weather made her choose some shorts in favor of the usually large pants she preferred. The low heels of her boots created a strong sound with each step on the Going Merry's floor.

"I still can't believe Luffy was the one to get us at this floating restaurant in the middle of the sea using his nose only," she chuckled at the navigator.

Nami was glancing one last time into a small rounded mirror she held between her fingers before closing it and shoving it into a bag.

"Add food to the equation and he could take over my role."

"Well, well, that's quite exaggerated. He might have an affinity for sniffling foods, but you can feel a thunderstorm. That's a big difference," the witch winked.

"You're flattering me," Nami grinned.

The witch opened the door of their room and they were instantly greeted with the rays of the sun. She squinted her eyes and walked on the deck with two knives and a gun sitting at her hips. Luffy was already on the dock of the restaurant created in the form of fish with an open mouth. Baratie was written in red neon lights on top of the suspended balcony of the restaurant.

"Do you think there are marines here?" Usopp asked as he leaned against the railing of The Going Merry.

"There are skulls on the flags of other ships. If marines are here, they're probably not for business. I wouldn't start yelling about it in the middle of a place filled with pirates," the witch commented.

Any other words died on top of her tongue when her eyes fell on the swordsman who just left the galley. Maybe the witch should've been more careful while staring so insistently, but gosh, wasn't he always a sight? The dark bluet-shirt clinging onto his chest for dear life, accentuating the muscle lines and — god fucking dammit — the jeans squeezing his legs made her gulp. The signature swords were secured against his left hip.

She averted her eyes before she could get caught ogling at the crewmate she grew fond of. It was a pleasure to blame it on the doses of alcohol in her veins, but it wasn't the case that time. She was wide awake and sober, so the nature of her thoughts was worrisome, to say the least.

She was still dealing with the possibility of feelings. A concerning topic for an inexperienced person in the domain of romance.

Another trouble she didn't want to think of. Maybe Zoro isn't that wrong for drinking with every occasion he gets.

What made it worse was the lack of attention he gave her, as if she was just a ghost.

Maybe she was overthinking it.

Truth be told, she wasn't exactly wrong. Zoro did intentionally look away so he could save himself from embarrassment. He turned away before he swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers curling tighter around the hilt of his sword. He must've gotten insane to start avoiding people.

"Let's go! I feel like I could die from hunger," Luffy jumped from the ship straight on the dock.

The witch found the right thing to focus on: the restaurant looked amazing. Not only did it smell so divine her stomach learnt how to talk, but it was also splendid. For a second, the witch wondered if that was a place for pirates and not for some rich business people — they could certainly be found there. Dozens of tables and the constant chattering of people, waiters and waitresses walking around and rushing from one side to the other — it was so lively.

The fishman greeting the people coming in smiled warmly at them, even if a little strained — a habit he got from his job.

"You mean there's no free table for our captain, the soon to become King of the Pirates?" Usopp smiled proudly, pointing at Luffy.

She found it hard not to laugh or chuckle at the interaction between Luffy and the poor fishman who said twice already that there will be an available table in three weeks. When the witch saw Nami shove her hand in her pockets, it was obvious what tactic she'd use. Obviously, it worked, even if Luffy and Usopp were cheering, walking down the stairs ahead of them.

The witch looked around, wary of any possible threats or drunk people who would get mad about the smallest thing, like the way they looked. Everyone seemed so caught up in their own thing and it eased her mind, some anxiety leaving once her shoulders fell.

However, there were certain gazes following her silhouette. It was probably because of each confident step she made, the elegance she carried, the force she proved to have with every sharp glance she threw around. Her fingers twitched to grab a hold of her dagger. She figured out there were no imminent threats yet.

At the table, she found herself between Zoro and Nami. She was conscious the moment she intentionally sat a tad bit closer to the swordsman who comfortably spread his legs after he tried to fit his swords. Sometimes, when she'd shift in her seat, his knee would brush by hers and goosebumps would erupt on her skin. She allowed herself to enjoy the proximity, the way her gaze would linger on his figure when he talked, the low timbre of his voice soothing her soul.

She had to get used to that idea.

It ached. Her heart would thump painfully in between her ribs each time it felt like he was ignoring her. He didn't say much to her since morning and something inside of her was bleeding, despite the lack of crimson liquid tainting her clothes.

The witch hated him for every cold glance thrown her away or, worse, each time he didn't even look at her when she spoke. To protect herself, her lips got sealed for a long while.

Her attention was piqued by the fight between two marines who seemed unable to swallow up their pride, threatening each other with death, while a beautiful lady sat at the table, looking at them with fear visible on her expression.

The roll of her eyes and the exasperated exhale she let out spoke for her as the witch rested her elbows on the table and held her face with a hand.

"Do people always act like that over stupid things?" Usopp frowned.

"They act worse," the witch scoffed, amused. "The average pirates aren't any better either, you know."

"Bold of you to say that when you're a pirate yourself," Nami shook her head.

"I've never claimed I'm a lady, so," she shrugged.

A waiter with blonde hair dressed in a clean black suit appeared by the men's table. There was a specific customer-friendly smile plastered on his face while he tried to calm the waters.

One of the two men pulled his pistol out just to have his arm being hit by the waiter's feet. In a few seconds only, the other man received the same treatment, getting a strong blow right in the stomach. The blonde waiter rolled on his feet and right after his feet collided with the man's face, he prompted his hands on the table to pin the other pink-haired marine to the floor with a kick in the crown of his head.

"Good fighter," Luffy pointed out with excitement bouncing in his tone.

As if nothing ever happened, the man's fingers grabbed at the plate he abandoned on the table and smiled again.

"No cause for alarm, folks. Please enjoy your meals."

A normal occurrence, most probably.

The waiter came to their table with a few long steps. From up close, his handsome features washed away the obvious forced smile plastered on his thin lips.

"Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

His voice was tinted with harshness and he was definitely in a bad mood, visible despite the professionalism he tried to stick to.

Luffy grabbed one of the small loaves of breasla on the plate the waiter just placed down in front of them.

"One of everything, please," their captain spoke with his mouth stuffed.

"What's wrong with the ambiance?" the witch asked, confused. "Not to flatter, but this place is splendid."

Something in that man's head misunderstood it as you're splendid, apparently, since his eyes shone like crystals when they settled on the witch's figure.

Maybe her mouth spoke before she had time to think it over. Bad decision.

"It became splendid the moment you walked in, perhaps," he smiled effortlessly, his voice dropping an octave.

Wait… what?

"Thank you?" she blinked owlishly.

It sounded more like a question. Not the first compliment she received and she also had to admit that most of the men who flirted with her were absolutely gross. This one was decent, even polite — hell, someone could've taken courtesy lessons from him.

The energy shifted. Or, better said, the man next to her shifted. Zoro just crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Sanji with a glare meant to send daggers through his face. The waiter didn't even bother to look at Zoro.

"Is there anything I could bring for these two beautiful ladies?" his smile widened visibly once he spotted Nami right next to the witch. "Would you care for an apéritif to start? Or perhaps some drinks, like one of our signature cocktails? Maybe a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet for someone sweet."

His wink was flawless and it would've been perfect if not for Nami's retort.

"Something wrong with your eye?"

Nami was frowning, taken aback by the comment and equally amused.

"Very good question," the witch nodded.

Nami tried her best to stifle a laugh when she realized she was backed up. Usopp was hardly holding back his laughter

"Forgive a man for being blinded by such beautiful ladies," he grinned as if he'd fallen in love not once, but twice in the same minute. "So?"

"Water, please," Nami answered.

"Still, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

"Regular water in a regular glass. Thanks."

"A beer for me."

Zoro's voice was threatening and low, sharp gaze still focused on Sanji.

"A beer for me. I usually have two, but…" Usopp didn't have enough time to continue as he's been interrupted by Luffy.

"A glass of milk for milk for me!" the straw hat said with his mouth still stuffed with bread.

Sanji's head turned towards the witch with a smile curling his lips.

"One of the special cocktails you mentioned, please."

The witch didn't intentionally use that kind voice. It was a habit whenever she talked to strangers to soften her tone and smile out of courtesy and politeness. Probably, her kind gesture has been misunderstood as flirtatious.

"Any preferences? We have plenty of options you can choose from."

His smile already reached his ears and she could feel a specific swordsman straightening his back by her side.

"Nothing too strong, if you may."

"Of course."

"Are you done yet?"

Zoro made all of them turn their attention to him and while usually he wouldn't like it, at that time he couldn't give a single fuck about it. All he did was arch his eyebrow at the waiter and telling him to fuck off as politely as he could, with no cuss words falling from his mouth yet. If Sanji continued to gravitate around their table with that flirtatious smile on his lips, the swordsman might burst a vein on his forehead sooner rather than later.

Sanji wasn't exactly satisfied to be rushed, but he turned on his heels and left. The witch was still looking at Zoro from the corner of her eye, trying her best to understand what just happened.

He seemed fine minutes ago. Not too talkative, definitely, but not… so mad either. What has been with that scowl on his face ever since Sanji appeared? He couldn't be enough of a man child to be jealous of someone's flirting—

I'm getting delusional lately, the witch cut off her own thought process.

"Mad about something, Zoro?" Nami smirked devilishly.

"Everything's fine."

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

The witch was engulfed by her thoughts, fingers pressing and rolling the fork between her fingers after their food was served. She had to admit she was hungry and was trying her best to savor the pieces of meat tickling her taste buds, but it was almost impossible to ignore the shallow sensation in her stomach.

"Was there anything wrong with your tarot?"

Nami, who was by her side, turned her head and offered the witch her entire attention. Maybe she's been playing with her food for long enough to get their attention.

"Not wrong, just something I would've rather not know," she said after swallowing.

"What did you see?"

She shook her head softly with a light chuckle leaving her lips.

"I pulled the Death card." Quickly enough, she realized she shouldn't have started with that.

"Who's dying?!" Usopp almost choked on his food.

"It's metaphorical death," she clarified. "The ending of a cycle and a new beginning, whatever that might mean this time," with a shrug, she proved her own uncertainty.

"Doesn't sound that bad," Zoro commented while he curled his fingers around his glass of beer.

The young woman still remembered each element of the first tarot card she saw before they left The Going Merry. The skeleton dressed in silver armor on the white horse, holding a flag with the number 'XIII' and the people kneeling in front of it, their clothes painted in golden, blue and white.

"It usually implies a hard step to take in order to advance. Change doesn't come unless you allow it and transformation is supposed to help you evolve, not regress. Each time, it doesn't come easily and it shakes up your reality first. Simply put, who the heck knows what might happen in the next few days," she clicked her tongue. "Anything is possible."

"What use do those readings have if you can't even find out what's really going on?" Nami arched her eyebrow.

Fate spoke for itself.

The witch's eyes fixed on hers, regret hanging around her heart.

"They give enough clues, I just have to figure them out."

She felt bad for keeping to herself the other two cards she pulled: the ten of swords and the four of pentacles — betrayal reasoned by protecting yourself. The witch knew who this was about and she didn't mutter a word about it, finding it improper to do so.

"And did you?"

"Not entirely yet," she bit at her bottom lip.

She knew her words were probably just passing by the ears of her friends. The witch was well aware they had no reason to believe in such things or listen to her. They could take her words into account or completely ignore them; it didn't really matter, as for her the reality remained the same.

What mattered was that she knew only half of the upcoming events. The other side was hidden somewhere in shadows and life lessons the cards decided she had to learn on her own.

"I won't need food for a year," Nami commented after she leaned back against the cushions, sighing.

"We should do a toast. Come on, grab your glasses."

The witch's fingers curled around her glass of cocktail with a soft smile.

"To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory!"

"No, I'm sorry," Nami furrowed her eyebrows. "What victory exactly?"

The witch didn't even get to bring the glass to her lips, Nami's question sinking deeply into her bones.

"I don't know how many naval battles you guys have been part of…"

"Two dozen, at least," Usopp interrupted her before taking one more sip from his beer.

"Plenty," the witch placed her untouched glass back on the table. "It was a disaster, I'm well aware of it. We could've died before reaching a day of sailing with The Going Merry."

"Then I suppose you agree we were unprepared and uncoordinated," Nami turned towards her.

There's never been such tension lingering around the navigator since the witch got to know her. The orange haired woman was easy going and talkative, she was skilled and was so strong. Someone used to the harsh world they lived in and yet she seemed absolutely stupefied by the mention of said victory.

Nami was tense and uncomfortable as she continued to shift in her seat, surprised wide eyes glaring at Luffy.

"You didn't think to mention your grandfather was a Marine? And not just any marine, a vice-admiral! I don't know about you, but I didn't sign up for that."

"You raided a marine base," Zoro spoke calmly. "Of course that'll make you a target."

The witch only let out a soft sigh and straightened her back with a frown. She was equally worried, but…

"I understand where you're coming from, Nami, but it wouldn't have helped us with anything to know about Luffy's relatives or their status. We're already haunted for merely having a map in our possession."

At their table Sanji appeared again, with a gray plate with a paper in between his fingers this time.

"Your bill, sir."

Luffy pulled his lips together and glanced at Nami before taking the pen and scribbling something.

"Thank you," he smiled up at the waiter.

Sanji took the plate and almost instantly, a mischievous grin splayed on his face.

"No, thank you," and with that, he walked away.

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Luffy turned towards his friends once again, confident in his opinion.

"I'm not saying it's good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them that they can't just roll over us. This crew, our crew, can handle anything."

The witch gently smiled at him and leaned her elbows on the table again.

"We could use your optimism, Luffy, but it's harder than that. At any given time from now on, the simple fact that we're after One Piece is enough of a reason for a Warlord to come after us because right now, we're an easy target. Not to mention the relationship between the Marines and the Warlords. Remember that these seven pirates aren't anyone's toys and if we ever encounter them, it will not always have something to do with the Navy."

"What makes you talk about the Warlords?" the navigator gulped. "They'd be an ever bigger pain in our asses. Average pirates are merciless already—"

Nami stopped herself from talking and looked away. An unusual reaction met with silence from the witch.

"Luffy isn't the only one with relatives—"

"Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?" a hoarse voice boomed.

The witch could feel a headache appearing along with the old chef who was hobbling because of his wooden leg. She finally gulped the entire cocktail.

Why was Luffy always getting into trouble?

"I need a drink," Nami exhaustedly threw her head back.

"I need dozens of drinks," the witch sighed heavily.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Maybe it wasn't a camaraderie thing to do to their captain, but they were now occupying some seats on the terrace of the open fish mouth. The witch was in between Nami and Usopp on the large couch, with their backs facing the sea, meanwhile Zoro sat on a chair, at the other side of the table.

The witch had a whiskey bottle from which she poured herself shots once in a few minutes. Usopp had three straws in his mouth and he drank a sweet cocktail from a bowl. Zoro warned him with a chuckle, but he didn't listen.

Nami, on the other side, was silent as she stared into her empty glass for longer than expected. The witch found it worrisome — she was used to her own phases, but it hurt to watch her friend struggle with something she didn't entirely share. Nami's issue was known by them and yet there was something the witch just grasped onto, a tale told by her tarot.

"The next drink is on me," the navigator got up from her seat.

"Nami," the witch's fingers curled around her friend's.

She squeezed Nami's hand gently and looked up at her with concern in her eyes. The witch rubbed her fingers over her knuckles in a silent plea, her eyebrows knitted together.

You're not alone, her touch said. It's alright. We can make it alright.

Nami swallowed down hard and barely squeezed the hand who held her before slipping away from them.

The witch poured herself a shot and gulped it down quickly.

"Why are you in such a hurry as well?"

Zoro's voice made her chest burn worse than the alcohol.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'd just rather not talk," she mumbled as she rolled the small glass between her fingers.

"You know something that I don't," he concluded quickly.

Usopp, who sat like an obedient child and listened, blinked curiously.

"I know a lot of things that you don't, Zoro," she responded with sorrow.

Saying one single word about Nami while she was gone felt unfair.

When the orange haired woman came back to them with a bottle in her hand, her conversation with Zoro somehow turned into a guessing game. Usopp, who obviously didn't take the swordsman's warning into account, went to the dance ring and moved like a sea slug — or that's what Zoro said.

"Are you in?" Nami asked.

"I'd rather not," the witch lowered her gaze.

It was easy to admit she didn't want to share anything about herself. Still, she knew better than that; with some shots, her tongue would loosen up bit by bit.

Her eyelashes fluttered lazily and her gaze fell on the glass she held. The corners of her mouth were slightly curled downwards and she seemed aware of the effect alcohol would have on her. She will succumb into sorrow or happiness, depending on which one clouded her mind first. The lack of answers coming from someone who adored to share experiences and explain was strange.

Nami looked at her from the corner of her eye and accepted the situation as it was. She'll get the witch to talk one way or another. Something was fishy about her behavior — it was poking Nami's senses.

The witch leaned against the cushions and turned her head towards the sea, pushing reality out of her awareness. Zoro's and Nami's conversation sounded muffled from her perspective, caging herself willingly in her head.

Zoro was sitting right in front of her and the witch still thought of him. Her feelings were confusing and analyzing them was a full time job. Maybe it was time for her to accept her situation and deal with the heart aching for him. It was impossible not to think of him, especially when his deep voice sounded like a melody.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked away the overwhelming sensation settling in her chest. Maybe the present could give her peace.

"You're unfair, Roronoa," she crooked a teasing grin and turned her head towards him.

"How's that so?"

His gaze burning holes into her shouldn't affect her as much as it did. Those black oceans shining shamelessly told her everything she had to know, it made hope bloom in the center of her soul.

Maybe there was a chance. A tiny little chance hidden in his mesmerizing eyes.

"She's telling you entire stories, but you don't even bother to elaborate."

He clenched his jaw and scoffed.

"That's not part of the game," the side of his mouth curled upwards.

"Now that I think about it, she's right," Nami smirked.

"Just drink."

With that, they raised their glasses and both glanced at the unusually silent witch.

"I didn't play the game," she excused herself.

"That's why you have to drink. You listened and didn't share," Nami arched her eyebrow. "Are you also unfair, Witch?"

It was Zoro the one who poured whiskey in her empty glass.

"You two are so sneaky," the witch laughed softly and complied.

The alcohol burnt her throat and it was the alcohol getting to her head that brought questionable curiosities in her head… How would his lips taste? Would he make her burn harder? A one single touch from him would both ruin and put her back together.

Alright, I have to find something else to think of.

Hastily, the witch who sat by Nami's side gulped down another shot of whiskey and got up from the cushions. An idea creeped in her mind when her attention fell on the group of four musicians whose music Usopp danced to.

"Where are you heading to?"

"Killing some time," she winked at Nami.

With light steps, she walked to the guitarist and asked for his instrument after he just finished playing. With a nod, he handed her the guitar and she grabbed a chair to sit on. Her legs crossed and she positioned the guitar in her lap easily, like second nature. Gentle fingers tapped the wooden object and her lips curled — it was perfect — before her grip on the neck of the guitar tightened. Her other hand was busy testing the chords, tingles running down her spine at the sensation.

She hasn't felt that in too long.

The alcohol was also a reason for her bold action, but the witch didn't care. The fingers of one hand pressed against the strings, while she played with the other hand, giving life to the guitar. Lively sounds rang through the air and the other musicians quickly picked up on the notes. A classic, an old shanty pirates would sing when drunk after victories, but it was more beautiful when she played it. Even her humming and the rare times when her lips would part to let sweet words fall from between them, it was alluring.

Zoro's attention never left her figure. Her eyes sparkled with freedom and the smile on her face was that of an angel. She was life itself, stuck under soft skin and hidden in her heart. The dim lights of the terrace — the open fish mouth — bathed her in white and warm gold. Her happy face, the smile lines, the crinkles of her eyes, the jovial energy surrounding her; all of these things charmed him over and over again. The longer he looked at her, the worse it got, because he didn't have the courage within himself to avert his gaze from her.

"You should just admit it," Nami said.

He didn't look at her when he let out a low "Hm?"

"Don't you think she's pretty?"

His head snapped towards her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Which one of us are you trying to fool, Zorol; me or yourself?"

Uncomfortably, the swordsman shifted in his seat, clenching his jaw.

"I think you're confused," he responded with fake confidence while he crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, you are confused," Nami scoffed. "You were jealous back then, when Sanji flirted with her."

"You're quick to jump to conclusions."

"If Usopp would be here, he'd agree."

"Unfortunately, he's too drunk to even walk straight, so I suppose he isn't here to support your theory."

"Speaking of him."

Nami just spotted Usopp who came back to their table with a man behind him. A strange man, judging by the hilt of the sword as tall as him — and he wasn't short by any means either.

"Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Zoro turned his head lazily, arching his eyebrow.

"I don't recall such a name."

The witch's peace has been entirely destroyed by the new appearance, an unwelcome guest. She could spot him easily because of his big elegant hat with feathers and the sword with precious stones on the hilt.

It was her turn to stand proudly in front of a Warlord she's only heard about from her deceased father. Her back was straight and her chin up high, gaze sharp.

When the man turned his head to her, there was no mistake it was Dracule Mihawk, his golden irises shining with boredom. Even his perfect posture betrayed the obvious superiority he had in front of some mere children.

"I didn't know your father had raised a liar. He was honest, from what I recall."

The witch knew she was her father's splitting image, but how could he know—

The only thing that stopped her eyes from widening in surprise were the nails digging painfully into her palms.

"I don't know any Monkey D. Luffy and I certainly have no clue what you're talking about."

"I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over."

"I don't know either," Nami responded from her seat. "Right, Zoro?"

"You're Dracule Mihawk."

The swordsman got up from his chair and for a moment, the witch wondered if he was insane or more delusional than her, because there's no other way he stood without a worry in the world in front of him.

In front of someone who could slice entire ships into pieces.

"Zoro?" the witch whispered, horrified.

The man in question stepped by Mihawk and walked slowly, steadily, as if the Warlord was his prey.

"It pains me to inform you that tomorrow… you're going to die."

Oh, Gods, please don't.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch was left speechless. She couldn't find strength in her legs and she had to sit on a chair when all of them gathered in the valley of their ship.

Zoro wasn't a sane man. He needed to be locked up or someone had to get that stick from up his ass before he had a chance to die out of stupidity.

She shook her head countless times while Zoro and Nami argued, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Why do you even care?" the swordsman's cold tone rang in the air.

"Because you're my friend, you idiot."

Nami sounded close to losing it all.

The witch already lost it one hundred times. Her heart wasn't beating, her breath was shallow and she was pinching the bridge of her nose to hold back from saying or doing something rude, something she would later regret. The tension in the room weighed on her chest and she wished it was all just a nightmare.

"You said you don't have any friends," Zoro responded sharply.

The woman's eyes snapped open. He was more insane than she thought. She wanted to yell, but no raw sound filled with pain left her chapped lips. The witch could only remain rigid while Nami left the room with loud stomps.

"You're insane, Zoro," she muttered between gritted teeth.

The witch was tugging painfully at her own strands of her in order to stop the overwhelming feelings from spilling out of her like a tornado. Her shaking fingers curled into her hair and gripped, the burn on her scalp bringing her back to the cabin of their ship.

"This is a suicide mission."

"It's his dream," Luffy smiled, "we can't—"

"Zoro, you're gonna die!" she shouted out of the sudden after she snapped her head towards the swordsman.

She sank her nails into her palms until the sting was painful enough to keep herself stable. It was not to her liking to be pessimistic, to admit that someone wasn't able to do something, but what he wanted to do was not the most intelligent idea.

"This isn't good, this won't end well at all and you shall know it," the witch continued. "You can't seriously believe you'll get out of there better than half-alive."

The swordsman didn't need to respond in order to answer. His unmoving gaze and straightened back told enough: he wasn't going to change his mind at all, no matter what anyone said.

She knew it meant a lot for him to become the strongest swordsman in the world, but in his current state he wasn't able to defeat Mihawk. Out of all the people he could've dwelt with, Zoro chose him, that monster of a man.

"Did you not listen to me when I said 'He cuts entire ships with a mere flick of his wrist'?" she furrowed her eyebrows. "Did you suddenly forget when I clearly warned you all the warlords aren't some mere toys for the big guys in the system, they do whatever the fuck they want!"

She cussed herself for letting out so many emotions, but she seriously couldn't hold back anymore, no matter how worried Usopp seemed, or how confused Luffy was. They had no clue what Zoro was getting into—

"That's exactly why I'm dwelling with him and not someone else," the green-haired man spoke firmly.

"Oh, so your dream is to get cut in half by a sword taller than you?" her irritation slipped.

"Do you really think I trained my entire life to get cut without putting up a fight?"

Even if she didn't want to admit it to herself, one side of his heart was hurt. This entire time, every time they spoke, she openly told him she believes in him, that she trusts him even if it would be her downfall. It sounded like she's been lying this entire time.

"You know very well I never meant that you're weak, but you're not stronger than him! That's your idea of a swordsman? You can believe, you can even hope for the best to happen, but the happiest situation would be a quick death. And the worst? A torturous one."

"I didn't take you for someone who wouldn't understand what the pride of dying in a duel means."

"Fucking hell!"

The witch's tight fist hit the table placed in the middle of the cabin with a quick and hurried motion, her feelings indeed getting the best of her that time. It didn't come to mind the last time she ever acted so harshly.

He turned her words against herself and he was a professional at doing so. She knew what kind of pride swordsmen and pirates carry, she knew what they considered noble because she's spent years of her life listening to men and women talking about such things. Her father did the same, thought he could get out of any problem, until it brought him his death.

"Maybe you should have more faith," Usopp intervened in a small voice.

He was hesitant, the surprise obvious on his face — none of them expected that their most collected crewmate would lash out like that. Luffy was also silent, confused, obviously trying to find a way to get into the thick heads of his friends somehow. The argument escalated quickly and the tension wiped away any ounce of peace.

The witch's eyes were fixed on Zoro's and they burnt holes through his face. He's seen just as many emotions a night ago, when she told him about her past sailing experiences, about the life she left behind as she desperately tried to find freedom. And if freedom felt like that, he wondered if she really wanted it. He succumbed to the flames of hell in her eyes, but snapped himself out of it.

She was angry at him, he figured out quickly.

He didn't like that gaze. He'd do almost anything for her to stop looking at him that way, as if she wanted him away from her, as if his very presence brought her suffering. Almost anything.

"You see just what you want to see, Zoro. You're deliberately ignoring our worries, thinking we have something against you, thinking god-knows-what about how we're not your friends or whatever the fuck's going through your head—"

I'm worried for you, she swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Just because me and Nami are trying to stop you, it doesn't mean we're assholes keeping you away from your dream. We might be assholes, but we want you to be alive, not six feet under the ground!" her voice raised slightly at the end again, her breath shallow.

"You're worried about her, not about me. I don't need your worry."

"Zoro—" this time Luffy tried to intervene.

"You're impossible," she faintly spoke, like a ghost.

She gave up.

She buried her face into her own palms and sat on a chair, her elbows prompted on her knees. She had so much faith in Zoro, she could barely even point out how many feelings swirl in her heart when it comes to him, but she was aware he was mortal. He could die at any given time.

"Right, Zoro. Go die with pride filling you up the same way that man's sword will," she bitterly mumbled.

I hate you, Roronoa Zoro. You and your stupid pride, along with the fucked way I feel about you. I hate it all.

The poor woman was exhausted, her heartstrings twisting into knots, making it hard to ignore the pain running through her entire being. His name rolled on her tongue so many times in only a few minutes and it made her situation worse, that one word made of two syllables cutting through her chest.

The witch regretted her words immediately, but didn't say anything for a while.

Usopp nudged Luffy into leaving the other two alone and it was probably one of the few times when the straw hat understood subtleties without any questions.

"Take your time and clean your swords, Zoro, we'll be waiting outside," Luffy spoke.

The witch heard two pairs of steps that walked away, her face still buried in her palms. She gulped and took in a few deep breaths before she moved from her seat, straightening her back and moving to the window of the cabin, hands gripping at the edge of the wood.

She didn't throw a glance at Zoro. Silence stretched between them while the witch focused on the stars shining in the night sky.

I shouldn't have been here in the first place, she thought to herself, twisting the blade deeper into the wound. I shouldn't have accepted to come with you. I should've stayed in Syrup Village and left with another ship, to go somewhere far away from you. I should've known better that there's no way in hell I can grasp at the mere notion of freedom.

There's no place for me in heaven and there's no place for me in hell either. I'm stuck here, in this body, with these feelings and this swordsman in this galley.

I should've known. I should've known I was damned to die on my feet, with a bleeding heart and my back turned at you. I should've—

She gulped down harshly, blinking away the tears.

I want to stay with you all so badly.

"Zoro," she whispered his name again.

Tears stung in her eyes at the sound of his name. It felt like it was the last time she could hear his name repeatedly, the same name carved with silver on her heart.

"Be careful," she continued, her voice faint.

"Why do you care?" his bitter tone resounded in her eardrums. "Everyone seems deadly interested in my actions lately."

Only then she turned her head towards him and her ribcage protested when the prisoner that was her heart beat so harshly.

"I don't need a reason. I simply do. Please, Zoro."

Like the idiot that she was, she begged him to stay alive. A confession was hidden between her chapped lips — she picked at them with her nails and there was blood surfacing on top of the skin. Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip, the metallic flavor tickling her taste buds.

Judging on the way his jaw ticked with tension, he grasped onto enough of her words. Or maybe he refused to do so — who knows?

"Don't throw your life away. You'll never fulfill your promise if you die today. Be mindful. Don't rush when fighting, don't get angry if he pushes on your buttons and irritates you. Be wise, Zoro."

It was a lost fight on her side. There was nothing she could do to stop him, so at least she had to give him the best advice she thought of.

When he finally looked at her, her breath hitched. His brown eyes saw through her soul and she wondered if he could also feel how much she cared for him, the way she cared for him. She liked everyone on the ship equally, but her affection for him took a different path, one she's never walked on before.

He didn't say a word, letting everything sink in.

Maybe there is a chance he gets what I meant.

"Be careful."

This time, her voice trembled but she didn't look away. She stood there, staring at him as if it was the last time she saw his eyes open.

She turned towards the window again, nails digging into the wooden frame. She refused to look at him when she figured out tears could spill over her cheeks like a river if he continued staring at her, burying himself further into her soul. She only wanted him to be safe, because nothing was greater than that. If all of them could be kept away from harm's way, she would have days filled with peace.

Too bad such a thing was impossible in that unforgiving world.

Behind her, Zoro moved around and left the galley. After a few minutes, he came back with a bottle of oil for his swords. He dragged a chair and sat down at the table, more silent than usually. With utmost care, he took one of his black swords and unsheathed it, leaving the scabbard on the table. He poured some oil on the blade and used a piece of cloth to spread it even from tip to hilt.

The witch only dared to throw glances with an aching heart. She couldn't bring herself to leave, to stay away from him for too long now more than ever. She swallowed hard before making a tough decision.

Wordlessly, she moved from the window. Her heavy steps echoed in the room until they stopped right by Zoro's side.

"Can I help?"

Calm, just like she always tries to be, she spoke with fear clinging to every nerve in her body. She would blame herself for the rest of her life if they would part ways like that. More than her fears and worries, he mattered. He deserved all the pain she was capable of harboring inside her poor heart, he was worth the fight with her own self.

The swordsman didn't expect her gesture. He supposed she would storm out of the room, that she would scold him or try to stop him, just like before. He guessed she was more sane than him, even if he couldn't bring himself to care enough about that. Her reaction pained him in ways he couldn't explain.

His fingers pressed the piece of cloth against the blade of his words. He thought of being petty, shutting her down. Why couldn't she believe in him more? Was he that weak?

He nodded. Like the stupid man that he was, with no need for spoken words, he accepted her help. He watched her blank face, devoid of any life, as she took another sword from the table, following his exact steps.

Except, her hold on the white sword was gentle like a feather. A careful grip, so it wouldn't slip from her hand, but gentle nonetheless. He stopped whatever he was doing, focusing on the woman who rested her hips against the table, close to him, so close, but, oh, so far away. Zoro watched her unsheathe his Wado Ichimoji and place it on the table. Her hand reached out for the bottle of oil and her other one took advantage of the opportunity, taking the piece of cloth from his own hold.

Their fingers touched. Hers were cold, but they still burnt his skin. Electric shocks traveled through his body and his chest tightened.

She poured some oil on the material and then left the bottle on the table, gripping at the hilt of the sword again. She moved the piece of cloth over the blade carefully, as if she's done it before countless times. Left, right, left, right. Everytime she exhaled, her breath was trembling, despite the slow pace of her gestures.

He paid more attention to the hands holding his sword: they were shaking when she placed the sword on the table. She poured some more oil on the cloth and dipped the tip of her index finger in the same spot. With the same finger, she drew on the blade a symbol Zoro didn't recognize.

With each stroke of her fingertip, she traced lines and connected them in a barely visible symbol: an arrow pointed upwards.

"It's a rune meant for protection," she explained softly as she sheathed the sword. "It's associated with strength and honor. It doesn't matter if you don't believe in it, because I do and that's enough."

It was true: he didn't believe in such things and never did. The swordsman never found it reasonable nor did he ever try to figure it out. It didn't mean he denied her beliefs — no, but he was indifferent towards it.

However, he couldn't act indifferent towards the witch, which he found at that point to be straight up painful. It was painful to look at her and see torment in her deep eyes, it hurt to see sorrow painted on her angelic features when none of them was dead.

The witch did the same gesture with the other two swords, carefully holding each one of them, as if they were her own treasures, not his.

"Come back alive," she whispered.

If he wouldn't have been so close to her, her voice would've sounded like a breath.

"That's all I ask of you. If you wish so, then no sword will cut through you. Blades can cut steel, but nothing can cut will."

What was she mourning when she said those things? Who did she think of? he wondered.

May the gods protect you tomorrow, she hoped. They've taken so many away from me along the way.

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop

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emcandon · 3 months

Note

hello again! I return to request more wonderful song recs, if possible?.What's been inspiring you lately?

Hope you're doing well! I still feel feral about veyadi, so thank you!

HI!! I'm actually doing better than I have been for the last ~4-6 months because my fun new body problems are more understood and therefore controllable! Woo!

Some stuff I've been consuming lately:

SONG: "Dirty" by grandson -- originally picked for the Stupidest Bardlock playlist, but turns out it's pretty resonant with a bunch of my character impulses, and has also ended up on the Fancy Uncle Chucklefuck and general writing playlists!

TV/MANGA: DUNGEON MESHI -- I kind of sensed it was going to be a whole fucking problem for me, and indeed, when @canalsobemoe came to hang out with us for a couple weeks just as it started airing, I subsequently binged the whole manga in a couple days (in part bc of a flare-up that meant i needed to not be typing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) It's in the realm of Witch Hat Atelier, where it simultaneously has 1) the greatest compassion for its characters and 2) a profound interest in some deeply fucked up circumstances. Also consistently hilarious! (Thank you dunmeshi fandom for agreeing that Farcille is ship number one; I am also tragically into Labru bc they're very parallel to a ship I'm hoping to write one day, though younger and fed through a more comedic thresher.)

TV/MANGA: Dorohedoro -- speaking of @canalsobemoe's incredible media-recommendation powers, I finally finished the anime. The vibes are that delicious mix of unspeakable weirdness tempered with precious mundanity, which I think I aspire to in some key ways. The timing and pace of the anime is absolutely great -- high-octane breakneck fun at every step.

BOOK: Wolf Hall Trilogy -- I finally finished The Mirror and the Light, which I've been painstakingly working through since it came out in.......2020. I'm probably swinging back around to read from the top bc it's just such good fucking prose. I'm nowhere near the master linguist Mantel was, but this series was definitely in my brain during Archive edits.

BOOK: The Golden Compass/His Dark Materials -- Rereading this for reasons that will be apparent at...SOME point in the future. But also bc I was obsessed with Golden Compass as a kid and didn't click nearly as much with the two other books in the series. I'm really interested to see how they hit now that I'm a bona fide book writer with structural thoughts and opinions. Verdict thus far is that reading about child endangerment in your 30s hits different, and I am consistently fairly terrified for these kids lol

#writing #ask reply

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 5 months

Note

i still remember after letter hidden track secret was open, there were some pjms who felt relief as it wasn't on streaming platform and actually neglected the song until jimin's letter video released on festa just because jk has some secs bg vocals lol those same pjms today speaking "oh we give money to whatever he does" hypocrisy lol and im not against to the show but what i don't understand is they are behaving as if you said boycott his solo thing, that heavy reaction isn't necessary imo.

I didn't see pjms "ignoring" letter just because of his barely there background vocals, so I don't vouch for what you just said. PJMs were literally the only solos streaming friends and who. Jimin's music has always been rightfully supported, even if it involved other members. As long as they liked the songs, ofc. I personally LOOOVE friends, I made a post about like two months ago. I have "who" added to some of my like crazy playlists.

LITERALLY pjms are holding their breath everytime there's the smallest chance he might show up for Jungkook or show support for him, but they got mad because I said "don't click on Jungkook content"????

Maybe I should've phrased my post differently or something, I wasn't really thinking how it came across because I honest to God had assumed pjms wouldn't be watching a JIKOOK TRAVEL VLOG 😭

And you know what... some pjms don't even hate Jungkook like that so they tolerate him in content. I DONT. I really don't tolerate him anymore, so I don't care to watch him on screen. I don't cry and throw up everytime he shows up, but if I can avoid him, I will. I don't search for his stuff.

Majority of pjms even like him at times, and they only get angry when he gets privileges that Jimin didn't get, or when he gets more streams. Then Jimin gets more records or awards or nominations and suddenly they don't hate Jungkook anymore. Then Jungkook gets --- you know how it goes. Some pjms are truly spineless in that sense.

Some jikookers are like that, too. They like Jimin the most when they perceive him as inferior than Jungkook. The times Jimin is clearly superior to him, they quickly look for something to downgrade him again or upgrade Jungkook.

I've blocked a lot of people like that. Jikookers mostly, but some were pjms too. People who liked and interacted with my posts when they were angry at Jungkook but then something ship related would happen, and I'd see them liking and reblogging jikook as if they hadn't been liking my not-so-nice posts about Jungkook the day before.

Maybe it's just me that I've honestly always been a very well emotionally balanced person, but I really don't like that kind of people 😭 pick a fucking side. When I don't like someone, I just don't like them. It takes years for me to change my mind about someone -whether it's a positive change or a negative one, it really takes a lot of time for me. I didn't just wake up one day and decided I didn't like Jungkook anymore, the change in my feelings about him is a process that's been going on for more than a year. You can't like someone when you're in a good mood and hate their guts the day you wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

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pieofdeath · 13 days

Note

re: the rotd spotify playlist, explain your vision for pathological facade (please and thank you) :]

Hehehehe HIII bubblegum :D Pathological Facade is a multi-faceted answer! So you’ll get ALL the parts :D

1- Honey I'm Home, also by Ghost and Pals, is one of the main ROTD songs! You can see its influences in ch1 especially. So I already sort of associate them with ROTD, and Pathological Facade came out while I was writing it!

2- holds up the lyrics "a year ago I was told that I would be a miracle" "go on praise me like a god" “who will I become” and then holds up Kevin and Diana. There are a lot of songs on here that boil down to “im mentally ill over the cult” (there are also a lot of songs that boil down to “im mentally ill over the ships” but this isn’t one of them) and while this one doesn’t have… a lot of textual/lyrical evidence to back up why I always think about them when I listen to it, I certainly do always think about them.

Idk. I think it’s interesting to think about what, exactly, being raised the only child of a cult leader would entail. And, while I haven’t quite gotten to it textually (BUT CERTAINLY PLAN TO), Diana joined the cult when she was 16. Jim was in his mid-30’s, and I’m just saying. That Diana looking up to Jim like a father figure (especially in the absence of her ACTUAL father, another thing I plan to get to) for the first two decades or so until she becomes disillusioned with the cult ISN’T EXACTLY UNREALISTIC.

Diana and Kevin have more similarities than anyone thinks- including themselves. They just go about their similar issues in entirely different ways, obscuring that they both grew up in a deeply toxic and isolating environment, depending on a man who didn’t have their best interests at heart, where violence was normalized (dropped a hint about this in ch18) and, for several years, sudden upheaval was expected.

Diana rejected and resented all of it when she got older. Kevin made himself perfect for it. Part of this is because Diana remembers life before- Kevin never had that. But, now that Dan and Seán are in the picture…

3- Also! "seeing things that cannot be retold" Kevin’s journey to death and back and the realization that no one will quite ever get it completely! Dan comes pretty close, having been his companion for most of it, but he doesn’t get all of it because he isn’t privy to Kevin’s head and the environmental factors that contributed to some of the less savory decisions Kevin made.

And also! The general silence about the whole thing- both to protect Dan/Brian/Diana (and to a lesser extent, Gabriel) from people poking their heads into the death/afterlife business (although it doesn’t stop it, it certainly slows it and most note-worthy sources like newspapers and such think its a hoax/town joke/legend after a lil while, mostly because the trio won’t take any photos where they wouldn’t get all of the copies) and to prevent the murder from getting out to anyone who’d charge them for it (they don’t know if the law allows the trial of a dead man but they’re not keen on finding out)

4- it’s also just. Really fun to listen to. And this is as much a “listen to while writing ROTD” playlist as it is the playlist for ROTD. It has a silly lil sound at the end that I think sounds like the nintendo switch click that they use for ads :D

5- holds up more lyrics. “Let’s rejoin our family in the mirror world.” the “mirror world” can be death :D meaning “our family” can be Gabriel (and Grim if you want!)

6- holds up “Let’s rejoin our family in the mirror world” again. holds up my spinoff oneshot au-of-an-au that’s yet to be written. What. who said that. Huh.

#ROTD #:D this ended up uh #way longer than I thought it would!#I thought I didn't have many thoughts and then I DID.#this was supposed to have 3 bullet points #2 was supposed to be SHORT also #woe 600+ words of character introspection be upon ye

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kentos-filmcamera · 3 years

Text

10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

7. Festivities

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: hi hi! soo a few things: I would like to warn that this chapter shows a more feminine side of the reader so if anyone is uncomfy,, you've been warned. this chapter is just friendship and ships (there's nobara x maki and yuuji x megumi if you squint a bit) and it's 3.0k words (new record!!!!!) so buckle up and enjoy! also, next chapter is my favorite so far so go read it as soon as you're done with this.

Toge persisted you to rest for the past three days, as you were indicated. He sat by your bedside so you wouldn’t go anywhere, always keeping your injured ankle raised and your head comfortable, helping you to change bandages from time to time. Even then, you persisted to go as normal and continue with your duties.

“So hot…” Maki complained from your green couch, her glasses set aside as she covered her eyes from the sun with her forearm.

“I think you should stop hugging Kugisaki, then” Megumi suggested, the redhead laying on top of her, but he just received a death glare.

“Shake” Toge agreed with Maki, laying on top of Panda, who was snoring loudly. You, on the other hand, were on top of Yuuji’s shoulders, working on your damaged air conditioner.

“Gimme the flat screwdriver, ‘Gumi” You extended your hand, the other one holding one of the filters of the AC.

Your air conditioning system broke down once a year, and you knew it was because of the dirty filters. For some reason, everyone decided to hang out in your room, so extra help was usually given out to you. Maki and Nobara cleaned the filters, Panda and Toge first assisted you and then the help shifted to Megumi and Itadori. The last one was more than glad to have a pair of thighs wrapped around his neck, and his smile displayed so as Inumaki and Megumi both stared him down to oblivion. With the screwdriver now in your hand, you pressed each filter well to its original place. You closed the lid and Yuuji plopped you down on your bed, making you laugh.

You reached in to click on the air conditioner, it turned on normally and after a few minutes, it wasn’t leaking water anymore. “It’s fixed” You heard a collective sigh you let out yourself, feeling the cold air fill the room.

Itadori laid down on the floor by your mini-fridge and Megumi sat at the edge of your bed, next to your feet. You were all so overwhelmed by the heat, no one really wanted to speak, just take in the fake rise in temperature to calm down their sweating and corporal heat.

Just as you were falling into pure, calm bliss, you heard bass thumping from down the hall. You opened your eyes and raised your head towards the door, at the same time everyone else did, confused. Queue in Gojo with a boombox from the 90s, playing ‘Congratulations’ by Post Malone. There was now a collective groan in annoyance as he walked in and faced the bunch of sweaty teens.

“Good afternoon my amazing students!” There was another collective groan in response. No one didn’t even bother raising their heads once more to look at him, and Megumi just turned his face away slightly. Everyone was grumpy or simply not in the mood “I am here to give out great news! Everyone who has tried for first-grade sorcerer has been officially promoted! Congratulations!”

Suddenly, the aura of the room shifted. Everyone was upright, in a mix of shock and happiness. Nobara started screaming out in happiness with Maki, while you, Megumi, Gojo, and Itadori started jumping on your bed in a circle, holding hands. Inumaki was hugging Panda.

“Let’s throw a party! A fancy one!” Itadori suggested, and everyone cheered. Gojo seemed very fond of the idea, as he laughed.

“Dress code is suit and tie, I’ll see you all in the common dining room at 8! Now if you excuse me, I have a party to plan!” Gojo jumped out of the bed, picked up his speaker, and sprinted out of the room. You came down from your bed and threw yourself into Toge’s arms, who pulled you closer in by your waist. You laughed and nuzzled into his neck happily; he was smiling proudly.

“Oh my god! We need to go shopping!” Nobara realized, grabbing Maki’s wrist and snatching you away from Inumaki to head out the door.

“Wait, I need my wallet!” You screamed, but Toge ran after you to give you the tote bag you carried for trips outside the school. You blew him a kiss as he waved you goodbye.

“I’m dressed so inappropriately to go out” Maki groaned as Nobara rushed you on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand so no one flirts with you” Nobara beamed at her and then wink, making Maki fluster. You laughed and elbowed her in the ribs, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I can’t believe I'm going to have to third wheel today!” You laughed, watching as both women turned crimson.

Nobara insisted on shopping in the Harajuku district and looking at her eyes gleaming while passing different stores was like watching a kid in a candy store. Surprisingly, she was the pickiest one out of the three. Maki found her outfit first, a black blazer and pants combo with a black mesh button-up that had Nobara drooling. You found a black silk slip dress that reached down your calf, a slit on one of the legs with a loose neckline that reached down your collarbones. Nobara found a black dress that reached a bit down to her knees, it was strapless with a see-through long sleeve with roses. She laughed at the irony of it, considering the poison she was infected with last week manifested in roses on her skin. After that, you went to grab a bite, the three of you talking about everything, anything and nothing at the same time. You noticed the flirtatious remarks between your companions, happy that both had decided to move their attraction to flirting, rather than just staring at each other all the time. You returned to Jujutsu High around 3 PM, more exhausted than ever, you threw your bag to a corner, kicked off your sneakers, and threw yourself on the bed face down, falling asleep in that same starfish position.

“Aw, she’s asleep” You heard a voice comment. You thought it was only a dream and continued on napping. “Let’s just let her rest”

“Are you crazy? They promised to do our makeup! That’s three people already!” Another hushed voice chimed in.

“Tuna mayo” A third voice hummed. You were already back fast asleep as someone tried to shake you awake gently, only to fail miserably.

Toge sighed and squatted down, his face to level yours. Even with your mouth ajar, your duvet darkening from your saliva, and your slightly loud breathing, he loved how you looked so serene that what he was about to do next he found very cruel.

Delicately, he moved your hair away from your ear, swooping it to the other side of your face. Right there, he was taken away by your sleeping beauty; purples, oranges, and blues chiming into light your face as the sun went down. He sighed, half-smiling “Wake up”

He watched as your eyes popped open and you sat up, rigid. “What day is it?” You wondered, scratching your head and yawning, disoriented after the sudden surge of energy running through your body. Toge sat down by your side and placed his hand on your bare waist. You noticed lately he was even more touchy than usual.

“What day is it?” Nobara mocked you, a vein in her forehead palpitating. “You need to do our makeup! Hurry! You haven’t even showered!” She snatched you away from Toge and pushed you inside your bathroom. You heard a light ‘Tsk!’ outside from Inumaki, who has proven time to time really appreciate you being snatched away from him. “And you! Get out!” Kugisaki ushered him out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

“A little harsh, huh?” Maki said, turning to Nobara, who just rolled her eyes.

“I don’t care” She shrugged before taking out her hair straightener and a heat protector. You chuckled from inside the bathroom before taking your phone out of your pocket and connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker on the wall next to the bathroom mirror. You shuffled the playlist Toge made you a while ago and turned on the faucet.

“I hope you’re not going on a world tour right now! We don’t have time to listen to you all the way to your fiftieth stop in London!” You heard Nobara knock and shout at you from the other side of the door.

You rolled your eyes “Maki, keep your girl in check!” You shouted back before stripping and stepping into the shower. You were in the middle of your third song, washing the suds away from your body and giving your rendition of “Cognac Queen” by Megan Thee Stallion when Nobara opened the door and dragged you out of the shower. It became a struggle, and you were only able to grab the pink fluffy robe that hung on your door.

You fixed Maki’s hair by pulling it half up with a small claw clip, leaving her bangs out. Then you applied the lightest layer of makeup, with the dark eyeliner she requested. Nobara, on the other hand, asked for a full face with a red lip. On the other hand, you went for a light look, with a striking eye and a glossy lip. Then, the three of you rushed to get changed as you realized it was almost ten minutes before 8. As you exited the dorm, you wrapped a white ballerina-style cardigan, taking one last look at yourself at the entrance mirror before Nobara dragged you out of there. The three of you walked to the common room carefully, the door opened slightly.

You heard a couple whistles as you entered the room, you humored the boys, Nobara looked slightly mad while Maki ignored them. You realized that for the occasion Toge wasn’t wearing anything that covered his mouth, and made it evident it was a bit ajar watching you arrive. You said hello to the staff, greeting Nanami happily, who seemed pleased with your recovery and being slightly confused at why Utahime was there. You then headed over to greet your classmates, ending up with Toge.

“You look very handsome” You chuckled, and reached in to fix the strands of hair that fell on his forehead. He was wearing a sage green shirt, black trousers, and thin black suspenders. He shrugged a little and blushed as you touched him, leaning slightly into your touch.

“Shake” He nodded, and held your hand briefly, accepting the compliment. You blushed and looked down before taking your hand away from his face, afraid you were overstepping.

The party was light, everyone chatted and conversed lightly. Itadori seemed very busy on his phone, while Megumi spent all his energy trying to grab his attention. Yuuji called out for you, making you pull away from your conversation with Toge and Panda, who looked dashing in a yellow bow tie. He also called out for Panda. “I need your help,” He said nervously “I saw a speaker with lights in your room, can you go bring it here? Also, please wait at the entrance for someone. Panda, I need you as a distraction”

You excused yourself and left swiftly, fitting your cardigan once more. You walked the way up to your room, taking the squared-shaped, medium-sized speaker with half spheres on top, grabbing the aux cord just in case. Holding the speaker by its handle, you followed the trail to the entrance quietly.

“What is this?” You frowned upon seeing the students of the Kyoto sister school facing you. You raised your brows and Mai and Momo narrowed their eyes back to you, but the rest didn’t. Your eyes fell into the liquor store bags Todo held in his hands, then it all made sense. A smirk crept onto your face as Todo watched your change of expression and laughed. A party with the Kyoto students didn’t seem half as bad, and hey, maybe the stone-cold Soju can solve things out between everyone there.

Soon, you heard a couple of explosions and fireworks and some commotion coming from the common room. “Let’s go” You picked up the skirt of your dress a little to run a little easier, the rest following after you. You noticed everyone outside watching an impromptu firework show as you sneaked in the Kyoto students to the now dark room. Slowly, the rest of the Tokyo students sneaked back to the common room, Itadori locking the door in.

“Okay Panda, that was fun, but can we— huh?!” Gojo realized the locked doors and drawn windows. He tried to force the door open but it was closed shut.

“Oh finally. Can we go to a bar now?” Shoko sighed “Let them be Satoru, they’re in the blink of death every day, let them party”

“Can we all pretend they didn’t do that and we were here all the time chaperoning?” Gojo gave in easily, changing his usual blindfold to black, round sunglasses. Everyone made a noise in agreement and the staff left, feeling the bass pumping under their feet, the surges of different colored lights leaking out of the shut windows.

At first, the party was tense. Everyone was just staring at the other from across the room. You were busy in the background trying to plug in your phone and sync it to the speaker’s Bluetooth. Then, Todo gave a lengthy speech about sorority and brotherhood, and how you should all solve your differences so you could… get drunk and nasty together. In fact, it didn’t take long for the party to lighten up and turn into a club scene. By the third round of shots, mostly everyone was hot and bothered, all the tables moved aside to create a makeshift dance floor. Surprisingly, Panda was an incredible bartender, and he was out to kill; his drinks were packed with alcohol, but fruity and candied flavors hid it all and made it even more addicting. By your third drink, you ripped open the seam of the dress, creating another slit for you to move better.

You, Nobara, and the Zen’in twins were incredible dancers, but you didn’t really expect it from Itadori. He had all the spice down in his hips and the way he could shake his ass like his name was Cardi B. He joined in after his third shot with the song ‘Up’

“Broke boys don’t deserve no pussy!” Todo shouted to the song for the rest to respond.

“I know that’s right!” Everyone answered, except for Toge, before you continued dancing. Now more than ever you felt the euphoria of having money. First-grade sorcerers gave you a considerable amount of money, even if you were just a student.

“Yuuji!” Your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at him, before cheering him on along with the others. By the makeshift bar, a flustered Megumi joined by a sober Inumaki watched him dance, not knowing what he should do in that situation.

Then, as if you were reading his mind, you showed him what he should be doing; standing behind him and grabbing his hips. Soon as Nobara did the same with you, followed by Maki, followed by Mai, followed by Todo, making a train. On the other corner, there was some smoke coming up. You never thought you could have this much fun with people.

Another song started playing “It’s my homegirl, we got the same tattoos!” Itadori pulled you close to him while Todo recorded, and you laughed.

“Don’t accuse me of shit if you ain’t got proof!” You sang along, pointing to the camera, following along.

“What if we got matching tattoos?” Itadori turned to you, and you both frowned to think it hard.

“I think that’s enough” Megumi pulled your drink away from your hand.

“‘Gumi, relax. Go take a shot or a hit from Kamo in the corner, it’s a party! C’mon!” You pulled him to the dance floor, both him and Yuuji as you both threw it back on him to the song. This time, Megumi caught clues from earlier and shyly placed his hands on Itadori’s hips. You stopped and nodded, patting him on the back and walking away, a bit clumsily.

“Do we have any more water left?” You asked Panda, feeling your throat and eyes dry from the intoxicating substances. Panda nodded happily and gave you some water. You had reached your limit and decided it was time to sweat off the drinks and hydrate yourself.

“Oh my bad, that’s vodka,” He said as your mouth went into a thin line as you recognized the strong taste and scent. Inumaki snickered “Here”

“Tell me it’s not vinegar this time” You joked, taking a loud sniff of the liquid, and it was in fact, water. You took a large gulp, as you heard thunder followed by the soft pitter-patter of the rain. “Oh, it’s raining” You turned to Inumaki, who looked stunned at your drunken beauty. Your eyeliner was smudged, and so was your lipstick. There was some hair sticking to the nape of your neck due to the sweat. He could swear he saw some drops running down the small of your back. He gulped and looked away.

“You’ve been here all night, love; c’mon, let’s dance” You set your cup down and took Toge’s hand, pulling him out of his seat. The only reason this party was going along all well was that alcohol made you more straightforward, which made you all sultry towards your evident crush.

You noticed he was paler than usual “What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?” You whispered in his ear, your hand slowly climbing from his hand all the way up to his neck, where you caressed the area. You never could have known alcohol made you that bold, and such a, well, maneater. At his lack of an answer, you just chuckled and took his hand, guiding him elsewhere.

Everyone at the dance floor greeted him more than enthusiastically, and suddenly, every insecurity Toge was holding deep inside of him throughout the whole party had disappeared. He blinked several times as you smiled at him as radiant as ever. “Let’s dance!” He nodded and smiled back. I love you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk fluff #10times1occ

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bybdolan · 3 years

Text

ANYTHING THEY WANT TO HEAR [based on cowboy like me by Taylor Swift and this edit] Word Count: 4225 ; Rating: T+ ; TW: slight mention of corruption of minors ; AO3 PLAYLIST

“I'm trying to save my money when it comes to small things like that, you know.” She pushes her sunglasses up. “This thing has an expiration date for me.” “What do you mean?” “I'm getting older, Jack. My beauty and my youth are my currency, and they won't be mine forever.” He looks at her for a very long time. “I don't think you'll ever not be beautiful,” he says after a while, and Isis knows he actually means it. His voice is almost plain when he's being honest, it's so different from his usual act.

read below the cut.

“May I have this dance?”

His voice is dark and low in all the right ways and for a moment Isis is almost lured into his sweet web, but then she remembers how he talked to the old lady with the sapphire ring earlier and she knows that he wants something from her she isn't willing to give him. So instead of answering, she lazily stretches her back like a cat in the sun and takes another sip of her champagne.

“Dancing is a dangerous game,” she replies after a while, and it's almost a bored sigh.

He laughs and exposes a perfect row of white teeth. “Cynical, aren't we?”

“Takes one to know one.”

Her eyes scan the crowd and she catches the eye of a man who is looking at her over the shoulder of the woman Isis assumes is his wife. Isis looks away. This is only her second day here. She has to give the men time to take her in first, let them see her exit the pool in her wet swimsuit and cross her long legs while waiting at the bar; so when they finally get to undress her, it feels like a relief, like unwrapping a gift you have been waiting for. It makes them feel special, to think that they of all people charmed her. Isis knows that men like that.

“You know that he's a married man?”

Isis smiles. “Hasn't stopped me before. It's their choice, not mine.”

She turns back to the man beside her. He's very handsome, all dark skin and dark hair and dark eyes. There's something rugged about him, as if he was a statue somebody had left unfinished, and Isis has the sudden urge to put her hand on his cheek and feel the roughness of his beard against her palm.

He reaches out his hand and Isis takes it. His long slender fingers wrap tightly around hers.

“Jack. Nice to meet you.”

“Isis.”

“Did your parents give you that name?”, he asks, and she laughs and shakes her head.

“No. I did.”

“What's your real name, then?” He lowers his voice and Isis has to smile because she knows what he is trying to do. There's a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes when she doesn't lean in to hear him better.

“It was a church name. A good church name for a good church girl.” She enjoys the sight of Jack's white-teethed grin for a quick second before she turns away.

“I'm sure that's what you are,” Jack says, his voice still low and dark, and it sends shivers down her spine. He's good. If she talks to him for too long, he might get her where he wants her, but Isis isn't willing to give him that satisfaction. So she puts her now empty champagne flute on a tray a waiter carries past, rolls her shoulders in a way she knows makes her shoulder blades look good, and gives him an apologetic smile that he will know is fake.

“Well, Jack, it was nice meeting you, but good girls like me shouldn't talk to young men for too long. It gives them ideas.”

Her high heels are softly clicking on the tennis court floor as she is walking away and she can tell that Jack is looking at the silky skin of her back, exposed by her sequined gown, and for once she actually feels good about it.

The gentle wind that blows across the town square tugs at Isis' napkin and her blouse, but she doesn't mind it because the breeze is making the heavy heat slightly more bearable. Jack is sitting across from her, Aviator sunglasses up in his dark curls, head thrown back as he enjoys the cool air.

“Had I known how awful this heat would be, I would have gone to England,” he groans, and Isis smiles.

“I personally prefer sunshine over constant rain, but that might just be me.”

“Of course you do.” He grins. “It allows you to wear the skimpy bathing suits you love so much.”

Isis rolls her eyes at him over the rim of her sunglasses, but she doesn't actually mean it. “If you don't like me doing that, you have done a very bad job at showing it.”

Jack chuckles and looks up into the blue sky again.

They have been spending some time together these past weeks. It's beneficial to both of them to be seen together occasionally, in situations that suggest they are romantically involved. When Isis goes out with an older man later in the day, his ego is soothed by the impression that somehow, Isis chose him over Jack, and it's the same with the ladies that Jack dines with. Isis is aware of the way they look at her. Most with jealousy, some with desire. Isis feels sorry for the latter.

Of course they sleep together sometimes, secretly, and Jack always sneaks out of Isis' room when they are done, leaving her alone in the big, cold bed. She enjoys the arrangement, it is nice to do something just for her own pleasure, without submitting to others' wishes or expecting monetary gain from it. As much as they publicly exploit their sympathy for one another, their friendship – though Isis wouldn't necessarily call it that – is genuine.

“Do you think that store over there is selling an English newspaper?” Jack asks and Isis follows his eyes to the small shop across the square. She shakes her head.

“I doubt it. But why don't you just wait until we get new ones at the hotel?”

Jack shrugs.

Every week or so, there is a fresh stack of newspapers on the receptionist's desk, and Jack is always the first to buy one. He spends the entire morning standing around somewhere, hair dishevelled, completely engulfed in whatever news he's reading, and Isis knows he actually cares about the articles because there is a spark in his eyes that isn't there when he is reading Albert Camus by the pool.

“Why does it interest you so much?” She cocks her head to the side and drinks her Espresso.

“Because I care about what's going on in the world,” he replies, “I actually wanted to be a journalist when I was younger.”

It surprises Isis. For some reason, she automatically assumed Jack was like her, with no aspirations besides getting the most out of what they were doing.

“Is that why you started doing this?” She makes a vague gesture with her hand. “To get money for college?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I wouldn't sit here with you if that was the case.”

“Then what was the reason?” She doesn't know why it suddenly interests her so much.

“I didn't want to go to war.” There's a moment of silence. “All my friends got their drafting letters and none of their weird tricks to get out of it worked, so I figured the only way to not get shipped to Vietnam if my number was pulled was bribing the officers. And since I didn't have the money myself, I had to find somebody to pay for me.” He picks up his coffee cup, but instead of drinking he just stares at the dark liquid. “I borrowed a suit and snuck into the fanciest bar in town and somehow managed to get this widow – her name was Rebekah – wrapped around my finger. When my letter came, she gave the officer a thousand bucks to let me off the hook. I couldn't fuck her while being dead in the jungle, after all.”

The silence between them suddenly feels as heavy as the heat. Jack finally drinks his coffee, then his eyes go to Isis.

“What about you?” he asks. She looks away, gaze fixed on the child playing with a stray cat by the fountain in the middle of the square.

“I just wanted pretty dresses,” she says plainly. “My parents were very religious in an almost puritan way, my sisters and I weren't allowed to do anything that was deemed a distraction from our faith. I hated it. I wanted to be like the other girls in school. So whenever I could, I would take the bus into town and look at the dresses in the shop windows or flip through every fashion magazine I saw. And one day this guy came up to me in the streets and told me he'd buy me the dress I was looking at if I did a little favor for him.” Isis looks back at Jack, eyes all cold and icy through her tinted glasses. She puts her chin up, even after all those years. “I wore that dress like an armor. I felt like fucking Joan Of Arc. It was a fuck you to my parents and my church and my teachers and everybody else who thought they could control what I wanted in life.”

The wind blows her hair into her face. It sticks to her cheeks and her lipstick and Isis combs it back into place with her fingers angrily. It's an unusually rough motion for her.

“And then I just went with it, I guess. Always on the lookout for men who were willing to pay for my attention. It's so easy, you just look pretty and tell them anything they want to hear and that's it.”

Jack nods slowly, fingers toying with the white paper napkin tucked under his cup. “That's one of the reasons I didn't go to college with the money I made. I was scared of not being any good.”

Isis looks at him and her features soften. “That's a stupid reason for not trying.”

Jack gives her a crooked grin. “I guess.”

He looks at his hands and then at his wristwatch and makes a face. “Fuck, I've got to get going.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Her choice of words makes him laugh. “Yes. The blonde lady who always carries those expensive leather handbags, I'm sure you know her.”

Isis nods. “She looked at me this morning when I sat with you during breakfast and I'm surprised I didn't drop dead right then and there.”

Jack laughs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “She's the jealous type. I'm sure she'll be willing to do me a lot of favors if it only means I won't look at you for a few days.”

“You won't manage that.”

“Maybe.”

They both grin.

“If you are planning on ignoring me,” she says, “You should at least pay for my coffee.”

He shrugs. “I guess it would be the nice thing to do. But let it be known that I always pay for your food.”

“I'm trying to save my money when it comes to small things like that, you know.” She pushes her sunglasses up. “This thing has an expiration date for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm getting older, Jack. My beauty and my youth are my currency, and they won't be mine forever.”

He looks at her for a very long time. “I don't think you'll ever not be beautiful,” he says after a while, and Isis knows he actually means it. His voice is almost plain when he's being honest, it's so different from his usual act.

“A lot of people don't think like that.” She looks back at the child near the fountain. The stray cat is gone. She feels a tightness in her throat. “So it would be nice if you could pay for my coffee.” Her voice is a little shaky and she hates it.

Jack silently pulls his wallet from his pocket and puts a bill on the table.

“Thank you,” she says, without looking at him.

He stands up and nods his head as a good-bye.

Isis feels terribly embarrassed and uncomfortably close to him for reasons she can't quite explain, and when she watches him walk to the brown Chrysler he parked in one of the neatly marked spots on the other side of the town square, she has the urge to say something that will make him forget about how unusual this conversation was for them.

“You're really just in this for the fancy cars, aren't you?”

It's a stupid thing to say, now that she knows how untrue it is, but she hopes it's shallow enough to erase what they just shared and make them go back to the sly back-and-forth they've gotten so used to, always vague enough to be fun.

There is relief in his laugh that warmly bounces off the buildings and echoes over the piazza. He throws up his hands in an almost triumphant gesture.

“Damn right I am!"

And that's how Isis knows everything is fine between them. The smile eases its way onto her face without her noticing at first, but when she feels the warmth in her cheeks and in her gut, she bites her lip to make it stop.

Five weeks after his arrival in Italy, Jack gets sick. Isis blames it on a bad oyster, which makes him laugh because she says it in a way that allows no discussion and reminds him of his mother. There are flowers in his hotel room with Get Well Soon!-cards written in fancy ink, but it's Isis who goes to the pharmacy to buy him medicine using her broken Italian, it's Isis who comes to air out his room when he's too tired to leave the bed, and it's Isis who wipes the sweat off his forehead and reassuringly runs her fingers through his greasy hair.

She knows she has better things to do than sitting by his bed and conversing about the topics they only educated themselves about to appeal to the rich folk. The man she has slept with for the past two weeks has flown back to England (not without declaring his love for her in the form of a letter and a diamond necklace), and there are new visitors at the hotel who look at Isis the way she wants them to look at her, and she should be by the pool with her head thrown back and legs curved, or at the bar, touching their shoulders while laughing at the stories they tell. Instead, she is sitting on the cushioned chair in Jack's room with her legs comfortably stretched out, arguing about whether or not Andy Warhol is any good. Sometimes it scares her how much she enjoys his company. She'd rather spend the days with him than alone in her room, she doesn't remember the last time she felt like that about another person.

Her visits get rarer and shorter once Jack gets better and Isis finds a man that takes her to fancy restaurants and buys her flowy dresses in the shops in town, but she makes sure to see Jack at least every other day. One time, as she is about to leave, he tells her to wait and rummages through his bedside table until he pulls out the sapphire ring she had seen on the hand of the lady at the tennis court dance, all those weeks ago.

“For you,” he says, “As a thank you for your time and care.”

When Isis hesitates he cocks his head to the side. "I won't miss it. Blue is more of your color anyway."

Isis lets him slide the ring on her pointer finger and looks at how the blue stone catches the light.

“I'm surprised you actually scored that lady,” she says softly, “I would have bet she wasn't interested in you.”

It's not what she actually wanted to say and they both know it, but they let it slide, and Isis manages to hide how fast her heart is beating until she is alone in the hallway and presses her palm to her chest.

“Do you want me to light that cigarette for you, sweetheart?”

Isis nods and leans over so James can reach the tip of her cigarette with his lighter. She knows that her pose allows him a good look down her dress, and she can tell that he enjoys it.

“Thank you,” she says after her first exhale. The smoke drifts away over the town. The restaurant they are at has a nice view, but maybe she just thinks that because when she looks at the city, she doesn't have to look at James.

It's not that he is ugly – he still has a lot of thick brown hair and some of the bluest eyes Isis has ever seen – but she can't look at him without thinking about his wife, Elizabeth, who had left the hotel last week because she missed their children back home.

Usually, Isis doesn't care about the casualties of her actions, but guilt has slipped into her mind over the course of the past few days. When she told Jack about it, he just shrugged and said he doesn't care, he knows how these people would treat him if he wasn't staying at their hotel but working in his father's garage, and while Isis understands him, her skin is still the same color as theirs and so it’s not her anger to share. Besides, she doesn't feel bad for the men she lies to about her feelings, she feels bad for their wives.

She has never thought much about what it must feel like for them, to be betrayed by the ones they've sworn to dedicate their lives to, be hurt and discarded by the ones they love. Love had been a commodity to Isis, as long as she can remember, and it worries her that the term has started to feel more and more like the vague idea of ‘sacrifice’ she has read about in countless romance novels. It had always seemed so foreign to her, but she kind of understands it now.

“Is there something wrong?” asks James and Isis smiles sweetly and shakes her head. Her mind is trying to replicate how it had felt when Jack kissed her temple last week, when she asked him to stay after they had slept together. Of course he left anyway, but the tenderness of his goodbye kiss made Isis so happy that it frightened her.

“I'm just admiring the view.” She takes another drag of her cigarette and tilts her head in a way that shows off her long, pale neck.

James looks at her and grins. “So am I.”

It takes everything in Isis not to roll her eyes. Instead, she throws her head back with a laugh that bubbles like champagne, covers her mouth with her one hand and puts the other one on James'.

“Oh, stop it, Jac– James!”

The C is a full stop in her throat and she can tell by the look on James' face that he heard it. She intertwines her fingers with his and strokes his thumb to make him forget.

“I’m going back to San Francisco.”

“When?”

“In two days.”

“Why?”

Jack shrugs. “I’m bored of this place. These people. And the heat.”

Isis nods. She knows she would feel the same if it wasn’t for him, but it still feels like he punched her in the gut. She’s not reason enough to stay.

“I just felt like you should know,” he says when Isis doesn’t respond, and she nods again.

“Thank you for telling me.”

There is an uncomfortable silence. Isis doesn’t know what else to tell him, except for the truth: “I’m going to miss you, you know.”

“I’m going to miss you, too.” She can tell that this isn’t all that he wants to say, but he stays silent after finishing his sentence and she wants to grab him by the collar of his stupid yellow shirt and call him a fucking coward. But she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs her book from the table next to her and tells Jack that she has to get ready for dinner.

When he knocks on her door hours later and asks her why she wasn’t at the dining hall, she tells him a lie.

“Come to L.A. with me.” The words fall from her lips carelessly. She had a plan on how to ask him, but then the sunlight made his skin glow even more than usual and suddenly, her words were stronger than her self-control.

“What?” Jack turns around, the look in his eyes somewhere between bewildered surprise and a deep sadness Isis wasn't expecting.

“I'm serious,” she says, voice shaking, “Come to L.A. with me. Or I come to San Francisco with you. I don't care.” She presses her hands into the wall behind her back. “We can live together and sell the other apartment so you can pay for college and finally become a journalist, and I'm sure that I'd find something to do, too, and –”

“Isis,” he interrupts her, and his voice is so gentle that it breaks her heart, “I... Why?”

She shrugs and looks at the shiny tiles on the floor. “I like being around you. And I want you to like me, even though there's nothing in it for me. I've never felt that way about anybody before I met you. And I don't want it to go away.” Her back is pressed against the wall so tightly by now that she feels like the wallpaper is going to swallow her. She doesn't dare to look at Jack.

There is a long moment of silence. Jack looks at his suitcase and sighs. His left thumb is pressed into the palm of his right hand, as if to distract him from pain somewhere else in his body.

“Do you think we can do this?”

It's not a no. Isis feels like she could cry.

“Maybe. I don't know.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“But what if we fail?” He turns to her and his eyes are filled with worry. “We both haven't done anything besides this in our lives. Do you really think we can just stop?”

“That's a stupid reason for not trying.” She puts her chin up. “The fear of failure. I've told you that before.”

He exhales and his shoulders drop.

“My god, Jack, look at us. Have we ever failed before?”

“This is different.”

“But it's still us.” Her hands are numb by now from being trapped between her back and the wall, but she doesn't care. She feels the same way she felt as a young girl, standing in front of the storefront windows, so determined to get what she wanted.

Jack looks very lost in the middle of his room. It's the first time Isis notices how big it is. “I'm just scared of hurting you,” he says softly.

“The fact that you care is enough for me.”

There's a short moment where neither of them move, as if they were frozen in time. Jack looks past Isis through the window, out into the sky, then back at her. She holds his gaze. She wants this. She wants him. So much that it’s clawing at her from the inside. He should know that.

Finally, slowly, he closes the space between them, wraps his arms around her waist and puts his head on her shoulder. He pulls her away from the wall and Isis feels the blood rush back into her hands. She buries her fingers in his hair. Jack softly rocks her from side to side as if she was a child.

“You know, I've always wanted to go to L.A.,” he murmurs into her neck and his words are echoing in her bones, “The palm trees look very pretty.”

“They are,” she whispers, “They are.”

“I’ve forgotten how uncomfortable these seats are.”

Jack chuckles beside her. “You've been in Italy for too long.”

Isis sighs. “Yes.”

She feels her body vibrate as the plane starts to drive. It will take them to Rome, from there, they will go to Los Angeles. Her stomach starts to twitch, like it always does during takeoff, but there is more to her anxiety today. The rattling of the tires on the concrete and the roaring of the engines drown out her thoughts. She closes her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Jack's voice is as soft as ever and yet she understands him just fine.

“I'm nervous,” she replies.

“Is it because of the plane?”

Isis opens her eyes and smiles at him. It's an unsure smile, flickering somewhere between excitement and fear. She can tell from the look in his eyes that he understands what she is trying to tell him.

He reaches for her hand and starts drawing small circles on her skin with his thumb. The plane lifts off and suddenly everything feels very still and quiet, despite the engines’ constant roar.

Jack's thumb rests on the sapphire ring on her pointer finger.

“I can't believe you're actually wearing it,” he murmurs, “Considering how it came into my possession.”

Isis puts her head on his shoulder. “It was the first gift you ever gave me. It's mine now. It doesn't matter how you got it.”

Jack laces their fingers together and kisses her forehead. Then he turns his head back to the window and they both watch as the plane breaks through the clouds, into the bright sky.

#amy writes #cowboy like me #evermore #taylor swift #now excuse me for i have to scream #ahhh #i can't believe this is my first fully finished story in ages #i'm :')#i love writing #and i'm pretty proud of this #also: fun cameos by other everlore characters #i am a james is a girl truther but :/ i discarded this for this story. sorry queen <3 #this turned out more cruel summer i love you ain't that the worst thing you ever heard than intended #but alas #i'll stop rambling now #have fun!#tw sex mention #tw smoking

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fiore-rosewood9 · 3 years

Note

♫FrUk :D

Thank you for the ask, I will send a few songs that remind me of fruk, a whole playlist if you may, not only one song. I also touch a few of triggering topics as I explain the nations's personalities and relationships with one another so I apologize in advance if I upset/trigger someone and will put my trigger here - Warning - mentions of abuse, alcoholism, s*exual trauma. Under the explanation there is a playlist of songs that make me think of Ukfr/Fruk, so if anyone gets upset you can feel free to skip my general headcanons about fruk/ukfr relationship dynamics. There are too many songs that make me think of different characters or ships but I collected the ones that make me think the most of them.

I know the original song is by Lady gaga but this version is too sweet and cheesy for me so I chose the rock cover by the group Halestorm since I prefer it, it sounds more genuine and rough and kinda makes me think of the dynamic that ukfr/fruk has, that some people present is as just the enemies to lovers trope or them just fighting which is.....simply unhealthy????? Fruk is much more than that and I wish people would stop seeing it as a two dimensional thing, yeah they do argue on a lot of things and it is not the healthiest dynamic however it does work in my mind because they stick through thin and thick and that requires effort and true love since a lot of people nowdays do not take time to know the other person, they just jump into marriage and have a few divorces and just argue over everything and then separate, fruk is an off and on thing where they break and make. This kind of dedication is hard to find in today's couples. I know they're fictional characters and no one really cares but I practice my psychology skills and my knowledge of people around me, and I sometimes see people with similar or almost the same characters as fictional characters, they may not have all of their hobbies but they do act the same way. And certain pairs, no offence, just make me want to gag my self due to history with bad and toxic fans but if I look at it subjectivly and never encountered mean fans from a certain ship, I would say that they ship simply doesn't work. No ship bashing but as far as I know, people with this kind of personality from this ship that I dislike, and get upset when seeing fan art of, simply just do not get along and had a hard time divorcing, it is not only unhealthy and unbalanced, it is downright abusive because both partners seek control and to have the upper hand and this is not...what romance is about???? It is about two people taking care of each other, understanding personal space and boundaries, lifting each other up and yeah, they will argue a lot, sometimes for small things, sometimes for bigger things, but generally the point of romantic relationships is not someone using you, or abusing you financially and generally being better or bigger than you. This breeds insecurity and jealousy in the other partner and makes them feel inadequate. Usually such problems are not talked over and one of the partners acts passive agressive which is what ultimaltly leads to said divorce. So yeah, people can go away with their (BUT IT IS CUTE, IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE) pairing because real life pairings and how humans communicate and develop friendships and relationships isn't based on what your mind conciders and doesn't concider cute and there are lots of factors on whether relationship will ever happen like common interests, type personality, etc and just block me so I will never hear from them and their childish mindset ever again, which is why I blocked certain tumbrl fan art hetalia accounts who produce art of a pairing I (dislike) lowkey hate, for historical reasons, for manga reasons, for toxic fans who bullied me and made me go on 3 hiatuses reason and ultimatly in real life experience and psychology and how humans and the human mind works and what is healthy and unhealthy reason. Why should I support something where certain people have been hateful towards me and these same people that act like these characters and I know in my life are on bad terms in real life? Why shouldn't I just move on to something more realistic and more healthy, that I have seen that works with humans I know first hand? I am not a clinical psychologist and I have no power or saying in this but I had to write thesis and read books by psycholgists and analyze them in high school and my first year of Uni, in order to pass the year and I have also read reccomended books by a psychologist I went to because I wanted an advice on how to deal with my anxiety and talking to people, because my condition is extremely severe but I honestly feel stuck and try to improve but also feel confused, I sometimes feel like I am not doing enough to

self improve as a human. I sometimes come off as too cold or overly bitter and angry without intending to, and it sucks.

Francis is a really manipulative person and Matthew picked up that from him while part of Alfred's agression doesn't only come from confidence in his own abilities but the fact that England him self is an overly agressive person and is very dominant or at least used to be for a very long time, now he is more mild to keep his gentleman persona but he does suffer from severe anger issues which he hides while Alfred is prone to breaking things and screaming, Arthur is more prone to being rude, sarcastic and generally mean before he loses it. Matthew and Francis do not engage in fight if they can avoid it which is why sometimes people call them cowardly I think? And Matthew is a bit prone to being a codependent people pleaser as far as I see and he seems to have severe anxiety issues. Francis albeit charismatic and beautiful, is deep down in his core lonely.

I think that part of his pervertedness, shocking people with his s*xual humour and all of this sex obsession comes from trauma in his childhood and dressing like a girl. I wouldn't explain what the trauma in question was since it is not canon but I do headcanon that he had s*xual trauma and it is partly why Hungary dressed like a guy. I don't know if this is legit, it is bias from reading too much japanese fan comics relating to hetalia or just general history of humans and how they treated consent and what is moral today, wasn't amoral or against the law a few centuries ago, but I have seen artists touch on it. I think both Arthur and Francis suffer from neglect and they weren't particularly good fathers, in fact no country is, the whole FACE family is dysfunctional and while I love all of them, I kinda pity them. I think Rome was a bit discriminatory mostly towards France and never towards his other children while Arthur had to constantly prove him self and was bullied by his brothers. While other nations have suffered from trauma too (I headcanon that Prussia was burnt on stake and people threw rocks at him due to his albinism and being left handed) something similar happened to Arthur, who I headcanon that he was burnt for being a witch and Francis went a few times through the guillotine, or Arthur still having a bullet scar on his arm from the American revolution or Francis having nightmares from that day where Jeanne was burnt and waking up in his own sweat. Arthur also must suffer from workholism and alcoholism, judging by how much he works and goes to pubs to drink. Everyone chooses their own poison and how to cope with life and many use unhealthy coping mechanisms, hell, even I used unhealthy coping mechanisms a lot in the past and I am not proud of them, in fact, I try to improve.

I can talk about their history and how it relates to their mental health and what scars they have for hours but I would bore you. You came for a song and I am probably boring you so I apologize for writting a lot of words, in advance. I basically think that fruk/ukfr is the ultimate ship for many reasons because they click, I do ship spuk/engita/asakiku and many other things but fruk/ukfr is kinda like butter and bread, it is a great combination. I never said it is 100 percent healthy, however their relationship makes psychological sense and their personalities click. I know people like to present arthur as this dumb tsundere man that blushes and says baka, or he is this garbage rat dad that no one likes or francis is presented or at least used to be this perverted sex machine that touched other countries inappropriatly or at least the 2012-2015 fans saw him this way and while he still has the reputation of a pervert, what many young people in the fandom see as disgusting, I just see as an overly lonely man that just happens to have high libido and copes with it by having casual sex and just has a sex humour, the same way some people have fart jokes humour or darker, more cursed humour, I am really glad that fans mostly left off this whole - Francis is a r**ist and will grope you, in the past, because honestly r**e is not joke and as a character he clearly understands consent and boundaries and I don't think someone like him would do such a thing. Also Greece and Turkey have even higher libido than him and sleep around more, yet he is the ''pervert'', I don't get it??????????? but fruk is just so much more than opposites attract, they have a lot in common so I can't say they're full opposites, no one is truly. I have heard people ask why does anyone ship fruk when it is just opposites attract/enemies to lovers trope and I am honestly confused, because that is extremely rough generalization to say the least, it is like saying - All men/women are the same, it is simply wrong/uncorrect. I think they ''married'' five times - The Treaty of Paris (1657) formed an alliance against Spain. The Anglo-French Alliance (1716–31) formed another alliance against Spain. The Anglo-French blockade of the Río de la Plata (1845-1850). The Anglo-French joint invasion of Qing Dynasty (1856–1860). And the last one which is their official marriage The Entente Cordiale (1904) fought together in both World Wars. As far as I remember Francis tried to marry Arthur but he refused and why he refused is up for subjective opinion but I must write a whole thesis on why Fruk/ukfr works so well and people are not here for that, they're here for the music and I will provide. I also always saw Francis as the more gentle and more submissive partner, I just love to see him drawn in frilly beautiful dresses with bows and stuff and Arthur as the more dominant, I mean as a country he was a powerhouse during the 1600s-1800s and used to be a punkrocker, usually rockers are mentally tough and that man is extremely cunning and witty so...people drawing him as this useless baka uwu overly feminine anorexic boy that looks more like a tween rather than a 23 year old guy just assasinated his character in my opinion and it disturbs me but I am just some awkward human on the internet and no one values my opinion anyway because this is the internet and many people nowdays love to have hot takes and try to gain followers through clickbait stuff which sometimes goes out of control and everything just seems more fake and shallow to me, the more old I get.Okay that was my silly rant no one asked about but I feel really passionate about hetalia and Fruk/Ukfr. Anyway, I apologize again for my long rant and going all over the place, please enjoy this playlist

PLAYLIST WITH SONGS THAT REMIND ME OF FRUK/UKFR

1 - Halestorm - Bad romance - rock cover https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ll4NJs3NBIU

2 - Queen - Somebody to love - lyrics https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zj69iA_goIk

3 - ABBA - Voulez vous - (I know everyone chooses Waterloo and while waterloo is a fruk theme, I think Voulez vous works too) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwcgMVXuBJc

4 - London beat - I've been thinking about you - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixBryyQSrD8

5 - Santana - Smooth - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Whgn_iE5uc

6 - George Michael - Careless whisper - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izGwDsrQ1eQ

7 - Robbie Williams - Feel - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iy4mXZN1Zzk

8 - Michael Buble - Feeling good - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Edwsf-8F3sI

9 - Edith Piaf - La vie en rose - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFzViYkZAz4

10 - Chopin - Marriage d'amour (Spring waltz) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFJ7kDva7JE

11 - Vanessa Carlton - A thousand miles - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERw2LuU6Jj8

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janelevy · 3 years

Text

i remember laying on my bed in my dorm room and watching zoeys extraordinary playlist for the first time. i’m not sure where i first saw the ads for it; probably while watching some other nbc show, or maybe it was one of those youtube ads that were, like, actually the entire pilot. i’d vaguely recognized jane levy (and maybe had a gay freak out moment) and i recognized skylar astin from pitch perfect, and it looked bright and colorful and fun so i decided to give the show a try.

it turned into something so much more. that day i had nothing to do, so i binged every existing episode (only up to 1x05 at the time) to the point that my laptop overheated on the bed so i had to switch to my desk. i remember flipping out when the episode ended with zoey and simon against her front door, breathless after a heart song that she never saw coming. i wanted more, needed more.

so i kept watching. and god, this show had such a way of having their characters express emotions. how could they do it in such a raw and REAL way with sometimes big and flashy, sometimes not big and flashy, musical numbers? and it was actually GOOD. incredible choreography, great voices (and even when the voices were not so great, you loved the character/moment/meaning enough to not even care.) it was utterly unlike anything i’d ever seen before. it wasn’t glee. it wasn’t crazy ex girlfriend (also my beloved). it was zoeys playlist, an entity all its own.

and then the hyperfixation hit. and the fanfic. i remember constantly refreshing the ao3 page, waiting for something new to appear along with the 1 (yeah, ONE) fic that had been published at that point. now that same ao3 page boasts close to 500 fics. as of posting this, i have contributed 14 fics of my own, 14 different little universes and stories within the world inhabited by the characters of zoeys, a multi-shipping haven. 14 fics, 171,504 words. yeah. never have i ever committed to writing fic for a particular fandom for over a year, but zoeys was different that way. a once empty ao3 page filled. a once dry tumblr tag filled with countless gorgeous gifsets crafted with care by passionate people. a small fandom compared to most, but a vocal one. imperfect, maybe, but hardly anyone ever completely agrees with each other.

and then came the best part: the friends i made through this show. i almost didn’t click that join link to the zoeys discord on april 4, 2020. i was so close to not doing it; i hadn’t been on discord in a couple years and the thought of just jumping into a server gave me anxiety. but i did click that link. i’ve met so many people through that discord, too many to list here, and i’m happy to say that a few of them have become my closest online friends. and through a couple of these friends i met other people who i never would’ve known without the one common denominator: zoeys. i’ve known most of these people for over a year now, and we all struggled through the uncertainty of whether or not we’d get a season 2. i remember exactly where i was on june 11, 2020 when we got the great news. then we struggled through the uncertainty between season 2 and a potential season 3. so yeah, we’ll struggle through this news together, too.

i know, i know, it’s just a show. but it’s also really not. these characters have become a part of us. i have a friend who took the name of a zoeys character (love ya kinnie <3). i have a friend who created an awesome, interesting, and relatable original character who is the cousin of zoey, and she’s written an incredible collection of fic dedicated to this character and her life in the world of zoeys. i have a friend who started a blog dedicated to zoeys gifs that has soared and thrived. even through our own frustrations with some of the characters’ choices/actions, or certain decisions made in the writing room, our dedication (okay, obsession) persevered. even if we won’t have zoeys playlist anymore, we’ll still have each other. and i am forever grateful to zoeys playlist for changing my life. it made a pandemic-stricken world feel a little more hopeful.

i wish all my best to all the fandom contributors, lurkers, and passersby. and i wish all my best to every person who worked on the show, both the actors and those behind the scenes. stay extraordinary ✌🏻

#zoey's extraordinary playlist

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merlinbingo · 3 years

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Clearly AUgust was a theme that spoke to you all, because of the 64 fills last month almost a third claimed the bonus badge! It’s the most fills there’s been in a month since February, and almost double the number of bonus badges I usually send out, and I am just so incredibly pleased with the response to this little event.

I really don’t have words to convey just how wonderful I think you all are, so instead I shall just share all the glorious fills created this month! As always, they’re sorted by ship and then by rating, and you should all pay attention to the warnings and practice self-care before you click on those links!

Gen

Young Arthur wanders through the valley of kings by Ice-mint Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Close encounters by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is woken in the middle of the night. Why? To hunt a witch, of course.

Through a Solid Wall by lancelitttle (lancelot2point0) Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Lancelot tries to find Platform 9 and 3/4's. He ends up with more than he bargained for, which doesn't seem all that bad, actually.

There was only one bed by ice-mint Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Superhero Resurrection Moodboards by zoingfandom Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Griffin by wmolecules Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

King Cenred by ice-mint Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

The one where Henry the Guard gets a shock by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: One of the new guards ran straight into Leon in the hallway, breathless and deathly pale, as though he’d seen something distinctly terrifying. Or Leon teaches a new guard how to act in Camelot.

Elena + tumblr tags by thebookluvrr1816 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

The Hobbit by hiddlydiddly Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine meets a hobbit.

Head Jerks by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: After a head injury, Lancelot finds himself beginning to have tics

The Effects of Rain by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Elyan and Percival get drenched while on patrol, but when they return to the castle, Elyan realizes that it isn't just the cold and wet making him feel bad. Gwaine is there to look after him

Elena Fisher, Queen of Gawant by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Elena had heard the prophecy about Arthur returning when he was needed most, but she hadn't been expecting to be reborn herself, much less 1500 years after she had died. Despite the surprise of it, though, she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to explore this new and fantastic world and all the ancient ruins and handsome adventurers that came with it. Crossover with the Uncharted Video Game series

the pretty-faced, high ranking knight with the long, dark hair by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine and Lancelot get mistaken for each other, resulting in some chaos and injury

Hard Feelings by gwen-cheers-me-up Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: After being rescued from the Dark Tower, Gwen is distant, sleepless, and easily startled. Perhaps most jarring of all is that she stops saying ‘I love you.’ Gwaine never started. As Gwen struggles to fit into her old life and her old relationships while carrying these new traumas, Elyan decides that Gwaine might be just the right person to help her begin to heal.

Albion Apartments by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin recovers from a sprained ankle.

Belonging by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Arthur sets out to follow Merlin’s orders, and tries not to think. About anything, really.

Out-of-body by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Freya receives an offer.

Feel by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death, Graphic depictions of violence Summary: Merlin struggles to cope, after Camlann

Knights and romance by merlinsprat Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

Little Chick by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Merlin has nightmares about another boy, far away, who needs help.

Speculation by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine and Merlin get drunk and make bets

Deep Wounds by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur and Morgana have a long overdue discussion

Palms, Fingers, Nails, Again. by emrys-everlasting Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: In which we join Leon as he tries to remember where his sword has gone – and why his nails, his clothes, and his face are covered in drying blood and ichor.

Freya/Gwaine

What Happened In The Hot Tub by forever-rewatching-merlin Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Missing scene from the fic “High Hopes & Slippery Slopes” by Saltedkiss. Just what were Freya and Gwaine getting up to in that hot tub before Arthur stormed in and oh so rudely interrupted them? 😉

Freya/Merlin

Bastet Blanket Battle by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin is a blanket hog, Freya is cold, and the Bastet does something about it

Mordred/Morgana

Your Pain is My Pleasure by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Mordred’s mistress gives him what he deserves, which coincidentally is exactly what he wants.

Uther/Ygraine

Agravaine the Agravated by SandySins Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: The story of Agravaine and his petty villain story, trying and failing to take revenge on Uther.

Elyan/Gwaine/Percival

Show Praise With Your Body by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Spring Break means a fun time clubbing. And Gwaine always gets what he wants.

The Blacksmith, the Rogue and the Stranger by donttouchtheneednoggle Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: One chance encounter and then another leads to a change in destiny for two wayward souls and one very confused farmer...

Merlin/Gwaine/Lancelot

Who's First by gremlinbehaviour Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin, Gwaine, and Lancelot try to sneak back into their room after a midnight escapade, but Gaius catches them and rather forcibly tends to their injuries first

Merlin/Gwaine/Arthur

I See What You See by evaelisaa Rating: Mature Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Arthur doesn’t like his soulmate. He doesn’t like them at all. Every single time he sees flashes of what his soulmate is seeing at that moment, the person seems to be either getting naked, is already naked and/or is doing stuff to another human being Arthur couldn’t have even imagined in his wildest dreams. Well, either that, or they seem to be drinking mead, in a different tavern each time as well even.

Arthur/Elyan

Ready, Set, Win! by sam4587 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Elyan and Arthur are at Elyan’s football game.

Arthur/Gwaine

Sixty-Nine by @little-ligi Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine goes to the king's chamber to ask him a question about training, and ends up asking a very different one instead; does he want company? Does what it says on the tin! 😉

Gwaine/Percival

Lay All Your Love On Me by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Percival has found soulmate Gwaine in their new lives.

Merlin/Gwaine

Love and Pigeons by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine wants to show Merlin something. Merlin is positive he does not want to see.

how you love by miofrommars Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine's love language is acts of service and gifts. Always has been. So when a beautiful stranger gets into his car mistaking him for his uber, he can't help but drive the pretty guy to his destination

Carrot Cake by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Gwaine wakes up to an empty bed.

Ebb and Flow by forever-rewatching-merlin Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Major character death Summary: Poetry, Gwaine POV, Angst, Pining, Self Esteem Issues

Merlin/Arthur

The Modern Age by warpedalignment Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is positive he knows what the noises are. He has been briefed by Merlin, after all.

Fireworks in our hearts by thebookluvrr1816 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

My Fire's Always With You by Dark_Angel23 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: A playlist for the prompt 'Witch Hunt'. The songs tell a story of how a witch hunter comes to Camelot, and Merlin is captured and burnt on the pyre. Being immortal, he survives and later leaves Camelot. These songs try to portray his feelings and state of being, and well as Arthur's.

Moving Forward by Mischel Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: It has been a year since Arthur found out about Merlin's magic, and today, he finally forgives him.

A Sofa by the Sea by RavenGirl42 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: “I hate that stick. I don’t want to use it,” Arthur pouted. “You’re adorable when you sulk, Arthur Pendragon. But if you use it, your new hip will heal more quickly and then you’ll be able to stop using it sooner. So just do as you’re told, for once.” “I feel so old. I can’t believe I had to have a hip replacement.” “I hate to be the one to tell you, but you’re in your seventies. You are old." Merlin and Arthur are an old married couple who've retired to the seaside.

Agravaine + merthur by thebookluvrr1816 Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary:

me and you [against the world] by OnceFutureEmrys Rating: General audiences Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: He wanted to wake up to Merlin by his side every day. He wanted to hold him, he wanted to smell vanilla every morning. And when he looked at him—groggy, with his hair stuck in many directions, his clothes ruffled and him with a tired smile—he never wanted to leave those moments. And it wasn't just that, he never wanted to leave ever. He wanted to spend all his time with Merlin, he wanted to have picnic dates that turned into food fights and movie marathons that turned into make-out sessions and all their moments in between. He wanted to forever hold onto these inside jokes and their laughs and their touches and their smiles and their looks; he wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever because Arthur never wanted to leave this. He didn't know what he would do without this. OR: Arthur has been in many relationships before, but this one felt different. Right. Especially when he realizes he's madly in love with him.

Please, Oh Please, This Role Is Suffocating by @the-ballad-of-deancas Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Merlin wants to scream his name at the skies, fold him into his arms and crush him to his chest but as he steps toward his destiny, the world falls away, inconsequential and unimportant until the only thing that remains is the fact that Arthur is here. He is finally, irrevocably real and he is here. OR: Where Arthur returns and a lot has changed since he left but the one thing that hasn't, is their feelings toward each other. There are secrets left to uncover and identities left to discover even as a dangerous opponent looms over them. Will they manage it all; will they save themselves and Albion in time?

Exquisite by warpedalignment Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is told categorically not to talk to the ambrosius' when they visit. This would be fine, if he could follow simple instructions.

The Dragon's Call by tehfanglyfish Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: “I need a dragon. Your biggest one.” “I’m sorry?” It had been a slow day at Ealdor Exotic Veterinary Clinic and Animal Rescue and Merlin Emrys wasn’t quite prepared for the suit-clad stranger who’d just thrown open the door and marched in, making demands without even an attempt at a greeting.

i’ve always dreamed of flying (and being with you) by ambrosius Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: When Merlin vanishes after exposing his magic, Arthur feels as if his whole world has been upended and he's never felt more alone. But when a little bird starts showing up everywhere he goes, Arthur thinks that maybe there is still some hope after all.

Something Wicked This Way Comes by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: It's Merlin, not Gwen, who Morgana takes to the Tower full of mandrakes.

I Won't Break Your Heart, If You Can Break My Spell by Mischel Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin is tired of waiting around for Arthur to finally accept the fact that Merlin is in love with him and do something about it. So, he takes matters into his own hands . . . and curses himself with a spell that can only be broken by a true love's kiss.

let it break ('cause you and I remain the same) by queerofthedagger Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: The magic was revealed, the shouting and explanations were done, and yet there remains one secret, one confession to be made. They always were easiest to declare in the light of a fire and only the forest bearing witness.

Gonna Rip it Off (Leave it Alone) by UisceOneLove Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: There is nothing Arthur hated more than Will's smug face when the bastard has beat them in a game.

I Can See The Stars In The Freckles On His Face by Dark_Angel23 Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Arthur is hungry. Merlin is late.

Couch Heaven by Mischel Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin and Arthur sit on a couch under one blanket, watching videos of them that Merlin had recorded on his phone. One of them is Arthur trying to eat ice cream for the first time in a really embarrassing way, but the other one is, to Arthur's surprise, actually really nice.

Across The Bar by TheCourtSorcerer (/ tcs-main) Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin & Arthur, old childhood friends, meet at a bar in the states after seven years of not seeing one another.

where the road takes us by TheCourtSorcerer Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Merlin gets in a fight at school, and Hunith has to drive him to A&E. Arthur feels guilty.

a very special thing by TheCourtSorcerer Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Looking for a resting place for the evening, on his way home to Camelot, Arthur stumbles across a handsome selkie named Merlin.

hold me like the night sky holds the moon by TheCourtSorcerer Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Sometimes, it's overwhelming. Never a chance to be simply him, always a prince, always an heir, never a man, never a son. Sometimes, he just needs a break. A pause in time. Sometimes, he just needs to be held.

Wet N Wild by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Officer Emrys takes Arthur back to his flat where they continue their fun.

A Brooding Pendragon by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: Rape/non-con Summary: In order for a dragon egg to grow and hatch, it needs to be incubated within someone with Pendragon blood.

That's How We Roll by @little-ligi Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: It's games night, and that means a night of sexual tension and edging as they each try to be the last one standing. Very sexually charged games and multiple pairings. Friends with group benefits... if you know what I mean... 😉

Steampunk AU – Reclist for Merlin Bingo by Clea2011 Rating: Explicit Ao3 warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Summary: Rec list for Steampunk AU square and August bonus badge

#merlin bingo #round up #august #fills galore #more fills than there's been in months #i know i say it every month but wow #wow #wow wow wow

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

Stay Safe Part One: Should Have Known Better

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Hello everyone, and welcome to my latest indulgence. This tale will run parallel to the show, picking up between episode three [The Sin] and episode four [Sanctuary], so spoiler warnings for all portions!

Our story begins a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...on Nevarro, to be specific. Enjoy!

Tag List: @wrestlingfae @helplessly-nonstop @huliabitch @culturalrebel

[And here is the playlist for this (now completed) series! Be warned that this post does contain spoilers for all chapters of Stay Safe, so if you would rather just have the playlist without additional exposition or breakdown, you can find it here!]

The ship was filthy.

Whoever the pilot was had clearly gone bellying in a mudflat. Dried grime was spattered as far up as the cockpit! You wiped the sweat off your forehead, squinting in the brilliant sunlight.

She had the potential to shine, you decided, and in your current line of work, that was really what mattered. "I'll get it done." You said aloud.

"You will? Excellent!" The person hellbent on hiring you pressed a small, yet strangely-weighty bundle of cloth into your hands. "Your payment. The other half will be delivered upon completion." They said, voice muffled through their thick cowling. You waved off their promise, absently giving them the usual 'the work is its own reward' rigmarole as you made a mental list of what you would need to pick up from your tools.

A few panels looked dented and carbon-scored underneath all the mud; this puddlejumper had clearly seen some kind of action. Not too surprising, what with the Empire getting upended. Skirmishes were all too common in the brave new world, where the tenuous New Republic sought to bring peace to a galaxy full of warlords and criminals.

In hindsight, you probably should have checked what you were being paid with. You might have saved yourself a lot of trouble.

Instead, you launched yourself headfirst into sweeping the crusted muck off the cockpit shielding and scrubbing as high as you could reach on the grungy fuselage. Clients sometimes got antsy about you traipsing around on top of their fancy vessels with your sturdy boots, so you always did your best to be expedient when brushing off the sand and grime.

Once the brunt of the outside work had been done, you went and punched in the code you had been given to open the hatch.

Nothing happened.

You pulled your notebook and tiny charcoal stub from your side pouch, running your eyes down the line of old codes from previous jobs. No, that had been correct. How bizarre! What if the owner had changed it and forgotten?

You grimaced at the keypad. You hated leaving a job half-finished. Maybe you could guess it? It would be a fair bit easier than trying to locate the owner, and you didn't want them returning to find you twiddling your thumbs.

To your surprise, it only took six tries at the combination before the boarding ramp extended with a throaty hiss. Your grin of triumph at your own cleverness was woefully short-lived as the thunder of approaching footsteps alerted you to the fact that you were no longer alone. You went to turn and see who was coming, barely glimpsing the bundle that was your payment flying at your face with purpose.

Metal, you realized dimly before consciousness deserted you.

…

You awoke to a boot in your ribs and you coughed, gasping for air. The bundle was clutched to your chest tightly. How had you picked it up? The last thing you remembered was getting clobbered with it. Why would your attacker leave you with your payment?

You opened your eyes sluggishly, realizing even in your barely-coherent state that you were in the hold of that ship you had been cleaning. "Wonderful." You groaned. Your whole body felt bruised. This wasn't exactly your first time being Shanghaied, but it definitely was up there on the list of 'experiences that don't bear repeating'.

Now, to find out who owned the boot that had so graciously awoken you from your slumber. You struggled to roll over, still keeping a hand on the heavy bundle. As you moved to stand, however, the cloth that made up the bundle began to unwind. You clumsily fought to catch the edges to no avail, fumbling the whole thing until it ended up dropping to the floor with a resounding clack!. Whatever was inside it was clearly metallic, but you already knew that from how sore your face was.

Any further musing on what it could be took a back seat to the disruptor rifle suddenly inches away from your face.

"Wait!" You yelped, your hands raised over your head.

The individual in gleaming beskar armor gave no sign that they heard you, the pronged rifle barrel trained between your eyes. You had never seen a Mandalorian so close before, but right now was hardly the time to dwell on the magnanimous rarity of the occasion!

"Oh, oh please wait. I...this is all a huge mistake. Please don't shoot me." They didn't move and you took that as your cue to start trying to get yourself out of this mess. "I've been working this port all cycle, I was hired to clean thi-"

"Not by me, you weren't." A male voice, clipped and irritated but distinctly human even through the doubled-back modulator on that helmet. "Continue."

"I…" You were at a bit of a loss. You had been hoping, albeit vainly, that it was a droid under all the beskar. You might have been able to reason with a droid. "W-Well, I…"

"Five seconds." The rifle clicked loudly and you flinched, closing your eyes.

"Okay, okayokayokay, I was h-hired. At the port." You rushed to explain, tripping over your words in your haste. "I didn't get a good look at him, he was all wrapped up like everyone else. He showed me this ship and I told him I would absolutely do it. I was p-promised two-part payment, half now and half on completion."

You swallowed hard, daring to squint open your eyes. The Mandalorian hadn't moved a muscle, that T-shaped visor alone keeping you pinned with its unfriendly glare.

"Um, I went to open the hatch once I got done with the hull and it, uh, wouldn't open," you stuttered. "Th-The man who hired me gave me the wrong code. So I tried a bunch of different ones."

A heavy sigh issued from the helmet. "Until you got the right one."

"Yes." You pointed down to the analog flight notebook hanging out of your hip pouch. "I've never been good at remembering codes. But the next thing I knew, I was attacked from behind!"

"Karga must have been waiting for you to get the door open." The Mandalorian muttered, lowering his rifle slightly. "Doesn't explain the beskar, though."

"Beskar?" You repeated.

He gestured downward and you followed his hand to the formerly wrapped bundle, now revealed to be a single ingot of beskar. The Imperial crest stamped into it gave you pause, the symbol by itself enough to make you uneasy.

"It was my...p-payment." You suddenly felt tiny. Everything you had heard about Mandalorians pointed towards them being an incredibly stoic and honor-bound society. Their beskar armor was revered, practically sacred; attempting to remove a Mandalorian's helm by force was akin to asking for death. Who knew where this beskar had even come from?!

You were in deep trouble.

A breath chuffed out of him and he carefully scooped the metal up off the floor, brushing away a tiny bit of grime. "Not anymore, it's not." He growled, re-wrapping the ingot in the cloth. You bowed your head in acquiescence, startled when two leather-clad fingers tilted your chin back up. "Your nose," He began, his thumb scrubbing at something crusted above your upper lip, "it's bloody."

"I remember getting whacked with that right after I opened the hatch." You grimaced. "Is it bad? It's probably pretty bad."

"It's not great." Your attention was abruptly drawn to the side when you heard a soft cooing noise. A blaster barrel replaced his fingers under your chin even as you moved. "I wouldn't try anything." He warned.

"I'm not, I'm not." You whispered in reply, your whole body shaking. Gods, he was fast. Even with you just shifting on instinct alone, he easily outpaced you. "I heard-"

"I know what you heard." He spat. "As much as I'd love to throw you out the airlock, I'm sure I'd get more for you alive somewhere else."

For the first time, you noticed the sound of the FTL engines humming. Oh. He had taken off while you were unconscious. Honestly, you had probably been a nasty shock for him when he came across you all curled up in the cargo bay.

That soft noise caught your ear again, but this time you forced yourself not to move. The Mandalorian exhaled after a moment, taking a step back and holstering his blaster. "What I want to know is," He paused, like he was mentally mulling something over while he weighed the slab of beskar in his palm. "Are you any good with younglings?"

You stared up at his visor blankly. All the other stories you'd heard about Mandalorians, the seedier ones, came rushing to the forefront of your mind, leaving you a little flushed in the face. "I...I'm not too bad? I've got none of my own, b-b-but it's not like I have an issue with them?" Your reply was half a question in and of itself.

"Good. Your job is to manage the child until I can find someplace to deal with you."

"'Deal with me'?" You squeaked. "I'd really like to go back to Nevarro, if it's all the same to you."

"You stowed away on my ship. Inadvertently or not, that's a crime I don't take lightly."

"Wait, b-but--" A reedy cry cut you off and you finally saw what was making all the noise. "Oh." You breathed.

It was definitely a baby. A baby what, you had no clue. But a baby all the same. It was tiny, sporting enormous ears that dwarfed its green body. Huge black eyes shone in the dim light of the hold, and a minute hand with three fingers stretched out towards the Mandalorian from the comfort of its bassinet.

"I trust there won't be any problems?" The beskar-clad man across from you asked, seeming a little bemused by how quiet you had gone.

"What's their name? What do they eat? They're so small, I've never seen anything like it!" You babbled nervously, barely able to fight back the primal urge to pinch their cheeks.

"No name. It'll eat damn near anything. I've seen it eat live mudjumpers whole." The Mandalorian replied shortly. "Doesn't seem to eat regularly, though. Might be boredom motivated." The armored individual waited a beat before speaking again, the strap securing his blaster making a loud snap in the stillness he created, "Anything happens to it, I kill you. Understand?"

"Ab...absolutely." You nodded jerkily, wincing when your neck protested the motion.

"Good." He turned on his heel and pointed towards the alcove off to the side of the ladder. "Refresher is there. You do anything I don't like and you're getting slabbed. Full carbon treatment." He informed you brusquely. "You're not quarry yet. Don't make yourself quarry."

"Got it. Th-Thanks for not vaporizing me on sight. I'm sorry about," You gestured helplessly around you, "all of this."

"An apology from you means nothing to me." He informed you, not unkindly. "I'd rather learn who the person that hired you was, and why they were paying you in Imperial beskar."

"I had no idea what it actually was. I was so excited to get started, I didn't even look at it." You confessed. "For all I knew it could have been a rock."

"You're not particularly bright, are you?"

"I like what I do." You retorted before you could think twice about it.

He stayed by the ladder for a moment, and then stalked back towards you. You braced yourself, waiting to get blown to smithereens. Instead, he stopped a good two feet away and barked, "hand over your tools."

"M-My--"

"Tools. Any weapons. Drop them." His voice came out as a modulated snarl. "Now." Shakily you undid the heavy buckle at your waist, then struggled out of your shoulder straps and dropped the whole belt on the deck. You hesitated a second, something that he absolutely noticed. "Do I have to slab you or are you going to cooperate?" He inquired.

Your last ounce of bravery went out the hold at his threat and you hurried to unstrap the sheath attached to the inside of your calf under your pants. "Hang on, I just-" You plopped down on the floor, shoving your pants leg up around your knee. "Shit, c'mon please." You begged under your breath, tears pricking your eyes while the buckles refused to budge. "I'm sorry, I swear I'm trying-"

"Stop."

You froze, watching out of your periphery as he crouched in front of you. Gloved hands miles more dexterous than your own made quick work of the sheath buckles. He was close enough for you to see your terrified reflection in his helmet, warped by the contours it bore.

"Breathe." He reminded you. "I haven't slabbed you yet. Don't give me a reason to and you'll be fine."

"Right, right." You choked.

The blade came loose with one sharp tug and you heard him whistle. "What in the hell is someone like you doing with a knife this mean?" He asked incredulously, testing the heft of the nearly cleaver-sized weapon.

"I traded some rocks for it." You whispered.

He huffed out a breath in what might have been an expression of mirth, rising to his full height to give the knife a practice swing. It sang as he ripped it through the air, a testament to his substantial strength. "Not sharp?" He sounded curious.

"It's for crushing."

He twisted his wrist back and forth, lazily twirling the knife by the handle. "You'd rather maim than kill?"

"I'm not smart enough to make good use of a sharp blade." You recited the phrase you had heard aimed at you so often in your youth. He paused in his motions with the knife, his helmet visor slowly turning towards you as you continued. "It's too easy to get comfortable with hurting if you have a weapon that doesn't take any thought to use. Like a sharp knife or...or a quick blaster." Or a disruptor rifle, you added mentally.

He dropped back into a crouch in front of you, effortlessly balancing his weight on his heels. You swallowed hard, still unnerved by the proximity of a real, honest-to-gods Mandalorian. You had seen a few of them in your travels, but never up close and you had certainly never spoken with any of them. Their armor alone exuded a certain air that tended to dissuade attempts at conversation.

"Wise words." With a strange amount of care, the armored man replaced your knife in its sheath. "I'll hang onto it for right now. Don't try anything stupid and you might get it back." He muttered. Despite the featureless void of his visor, you got the impression that he was studying you intently. "Take care of the kid." A rag was thrust at your face. "Wash the blood off from under your nose."

…

Honestly, it was a relatively easy gig.

You quickly discovered that the child liked it when you sang, even if it was just nonsense words and babble. You made up a song on the spot about the dewback that jumped over the blue milk moon, sitting on the floor and serenading the giggly being while you cleaned yourself up with the warm rag.

They appeared to be maybe toddler age, just getting to the point where they were learning by putting everything in their mouth. You lost track of how many objects you eased away from them, finally resorting to relocating the hazards into an empty cargo net overhead.

There was one thing in particular that they seemed to love, a silver ball with a threaded hole in it. They rolled it back and forth on the deck, squealing excitedly when you got involved in their little game of fetch. At least they didn't seem keen on putting it into their mouth, thank the Maker for small favors.

You knew enough time had passed that you should be hungry, but the idea of asking for anything made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. The child only ate when they were bored, right? Maybe you ought to adopt the same schedule.

Your mind wandered back to the Mandalorian as you engaged the tyke in a rousing game of peekaboo, their explosive giggles making you smile in spite of your lingering aches and pains. How had someone like him come across this baby? If he was a bounty hunter, as the empty carbonite slab hangers overhead would indicate, what was he doing with such a small child?

"Well," you said aloud, "it's not as if kids are just convenient things that drop out of the sky when you're ready for them." You clapped your hands and the child mimicked you, bouncing a little. You set into a barely-remembered song from when you yourself had been quite young, "Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'..."

Your father had often sang while he cooked meals, pausing occasionally to throw you a grin. You imagined it must have made your parents' toil-filled days of farming a little more bearable. You vaguely recalled the sound of their voices, but the years between their deaths and the present day stretched long. All you had left now were half-impressions of your mother's fond smile and your father's songs, fleeting and bittersweet.

You blinked away the memories when you felt the touch of a small hand on your sleeve, looking down at the child. They chirped at you, tilting their head to the side. "Hello, little one." You whispered, noting that their enormous eyes were half-lidded. "Are you sleepy?" They yawned in reply, making you smile slightly. It was almost as if they understood what you were saying! "Alright, let's go to sleep."

After checking to make sure that they were still dry, you tucked them into their cradle. Then, you tugged the bassinet over behind a stack of crates, proceeding to curl up on the floor in your cloak. You kept one hand draped over the side of the cradle, smiling blearily when you felt tiny fingers take hold of your index.

You had never had any issues sleeping in an unfamiliar environment and despite your rumbling stomach, tonight was no exception. You were exhausted and sore from the day's events and you were more than ready to put it all behind you.

…

Something was nudging your side.

You frowned, flailing an arm out of the warm cocoon you had created with your cloak. The back of your hand hit steel, and then your palm landed on what seemed to be a boot upper. "Five minutes." You murmured, patting the leather and trying to recall where you were without opening your eyes.

"Get up."

The ship detail. Getting hit with the beskar. Mandalorian. The child-

You thrashed your legs out of your cloak, suddenly more awake than you had ever been in your life. "Where is the baby?" You asked frantically, "I'm sorry, I-I just-"

"The kid is over there." The Mandalorian jerked his helmet to the side, indicating the cradle. "Still sleeping." He took hold of your elbow, pulling you upright. "Come on."

You straightened out your tunic and followed his silent form up the ladder to the cockpit, your heart pounding in your throat. You wrapped your cape tightly around you, your shivering having nothing to do with the temperature. Through the clear shielding you glimpsed the sight of tall coniferous trees, gray-green in the light of dawn. How long had you slept for?

He settled into the pilot seat, swiveling it backwards to face you after a moment. "Sit." He gestured behind you to one of the co-pilot chairs.

You did so, trying your hardest to hide how much you were trembling. He wouldn't kill you right now, would he? No, not in the cockpit. There would be blood everywhere-

"Hey!" The Mandalorian barked, gloved fingers waving in front of your eyes. "Focus. Are you cold?"

"N-No, not at all." You denied through chattering teeth, your back aching with the strain of holding yourself still.

"Then why the hell are you shaking?"

"I'm terrified." You admitted bluntly.

"Oh." He was silent for several moments, letting you panic inwardly. "Well, knock it off." He muttered gruffly. "I'm not going to do anything to you."

"You...you're not?"

"No." You went nearly boneless at his exasperated grunt, feeling as though you had just run a marathon. "You're good with the kid. It's been quiet. No one trying to pilfer any of the shiny things I have to fly with, or touching important switches."

"Glad to be of service." You replied weakly.

"Don't make me change my mind." He growled, jabbing a finger at your face. "If I find out you were planted on here by the Guild to double cross me, I won't hesitate to blow a hole in your sternum. Do we understand each other, stowaway?"

"Y-You drive a hard bargain." You squeaked, bunching your fists in your tunic. His hand remained extended and after a moment he impatiently jerked his chin down at it. "Oh!" You tried to subtly wipe your sweaty palm off on your thigh before you accepted the handshake, nodding stiffly.

"If I double cross you, you can feel free to take your mean little knife and crush my ribcage with it." The Mandalorian rotated his wrist, the movement fluid and nonchalant. "Turn and turn alike."

"I think you might have an unfair advantage. That knife is no match for beskar." You pointed out, almost delirious with relief.

"It's not about the tool, it's about how you utilize it."

Your empty stomach suddenly decided to make itself heard, growling deafeningly loud. You flushed, wrapping your arms around your midsection.

"Stars, was that a Corellian hound?" The bounty hunter tossed a small pouch your way, the bag landing in your lap with a quiet crinkle. "Eat the rest of that. Today, we look for lodging." He ordered.

Your question of whether he would possibly consider returning you to Nevarro died in your throat and you bit your lip, struggling with the seal on the bag.

The jerky-like substance, traditionally made from the tough, bitter pulp of hubba gourds, served to take the hard edge off of your hunger and give your mouth something to do while the Mandalorian did his pre-departure walkthrough.

He halted by the now-full cargo net loaded with the flotsam and jetsam from the floor of the hold and turned to look at you, his head tilted slightly in question.

"Baby wanted to mouth things, so I had to put them out of reach." You elaborated after swallowing.

"Little womp rat." The armored man grumbled, sounding strangely fond. The womp rat in question babbled from their crib, their arms outstretched in the universal sign for pick me up! The Mandalorian ignored them, continuing his sweep.

He finally nodded, appearing satisfied with the state of things. You moved to scoop the child out of their crib, only to get stopped in your tracks by a very familiar knife sheath hitting your chest.

"Weapons on before we leave the ship." The Mandalorian muttered. "Remember our agreement. You can have your tools later if you prove yourself trustworthy."

You took the knife back, wordlessly strapping the sheath to your calf once more. The weight was an immense comfort and you felt your nervous energy still for a brief moment. "Okay." You breathed, clenching your fists and then shaking out your tense shoulders.

The Mandalorian nodded towards the child. "Let him walk. He needs to use his legs."

While the boarding ramp hydraulics hissed and creaked, you dug around in your side pouch. You didn't have much in the way of actual credits, normally you accepted trades of goods or food. "Here, I...um, for when we get lodging." The seven credits looked pitiful even to your eyes, so you could only imagine what this obviously-successful bounty hunter must think of them.

He waved you off, one gloved hand closing your fingers securely around the meager fistful. "Save them for a rainy season, stowaway."

"B-But-"

"We still don't even know whether we will find lodgings here," He reminded you. "Hang onto them."

"I'm not going to just scab off of you." You protested as he walked down the ramp. "I can work, I know ships inside and out and I can-"

"We can discuss it later." He said over his shoulder, the words muffled by his cape, "once I've decided you're worth the trouble."

You huffed out an annoyed breath, jamming the credits back into your pouch. "Oh of course, wouldn't want to trouble you with bringing me back to fucking Nevarro." You muttered. The child squealed, tugging on your pants leg and pointing towards the forest. "Yeah, we'd better get a move on." You agreed quietly.

With mindfully-shortened steps, you set off to follow the armored man. At least he was shiny enough to be spotted easily in the sun-dappled forest.

Part Two

#Welcome one and all #welcome back to hell #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #eventual romance #mandalorian spoilers #this will be great I promise #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #how do I tag this #I'm so excited #enjoy!#pedro pascal #I love one man #and he wears beskar

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jaimehwatson · 3 years

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I made another Snowpiercer playlist!

After posting my Wilford/Audrey playlist a while ago, I added some songs that didn’t quite make the cut to a different playlist, intending to put together another similar one. But rather than focusing on just one ship this time, I also ended up getting really interested in theorizing about what Wilford’s relationship with Melanie might have been like before the Freeze, and exploring the idea that maybe there was something going on there and some kind of love triangle with Audrey.

So here’s my new playlist, full of absolute jams that could apply to any combination of relationships involving Wilford, Audrey, and Melanie, and/or just general Snowpiercer vibes! Read on for more detail about the songs I selected, and as before, content warning for references to canon abuse & self-harm/suicide.

1. “The Tradition” by Halsey

Oh, the loneliеst girl in town Was bought for plenty a price Well, they dress her up in golden crowns His smile hides a lie

She smiles back, but it's a fact That her fear will eat her alive Well, she got the life that she wanted But now all she does is cry

Thanks @onetrainsnowpiercer for getting me into this excellent album! I thought it would be fitting to kick off the playlist with one that could suit the earlier days of Wilford’s relationship with Audrey, like my previous playlist was more focused on.

2. “cardigan” by Taylor Swift

'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I

I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I

I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

Did you think I would make a Snowpiercer playlist without Taylor Swift on it? Not a chance. I picture this one being more from Melanie’s perspective, reflecting on possibly having had some kind of ill-fated romance with Wilford when she was young and naive.

3. “No Children” by The Mountain Goats

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow I hope it bleeds all day long Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises We're pretty sure they're all wrong

I hope it stays dark forever I hope the worst isn't over And I hope you blink before I do And I hope I never get sober

The only reason this perennial favourite of mine wasn’t on the first playlist was that I had too many Mountain Goats songs already and wanted to keep things balanced. But this one got all the ones that didn’t make it to the first playlist plus some more I thought about later, so I’m kind of giving up on that balance by now. They just have a lot of great songs about terrible relationships, and I love them all so much.

4. “Gold Guns Girls” by Metric

I remember when we were gambling to win Everybody else said, "Better luck next time." I don't wanna bend like the bad girls bend I just wanna be your friend Is it ever gonna be enough?

This is another one that I can picture being about young Melanie, gradually growing more aware of everything that’s terribly wrong with Wilford and his approach to life, and of how little he cares to try to fix it.

5. “You’ve Haunted Me All My Life” by Death Cab for Cutie

And there's a flaw in my heart's design For I keep trying to make you mine

You've haunted me all my life You've haunted me all my life You are the mistress I can't make a wife And you've haunted me all my life

And this one I can see being Wilford thinking about either one of the women, and his unhealthy attachment to them and inability to keep them around for very long—maybe once he’s finally reunited with them both on some level in season 2, but still can’t fully persuade them both over to his side.

6. “Old College Try” by The Mountain Goats

From the cities to the swamplands From the highways to the hills Our love has never had a leg to stand on From the aspirins to the cross-tops to the Elavils

But I will walk down to the end with you If you will come all the way down with me

Another Mountain Goats classic. If you divorce it from its context of being from a concept album about a horrible marriage, I actually think this song is kind of sweet in the way it describes a couple still committing to try to make things work despite a whole host of problems. But never mind that now, because I’m putting it back in the new context of a whole collection of horrible romantic relationships!

7. “Risk” by Metric

So you're beaten up but you bounce back It’s all part of the pull And the story runs like a soundtrack We repeat 'til we're full Started slow, started late Started strong, then we lost faith Started slow, started to lose control The more we accelerate, the more we accelerate

Half of arranging any playlist I make is just trying to split up the Mountain Goats and Metric songs so that they aren’t always clumped together. Anyway, this one seems especially fitting to me in its imagery of a speeding vehicle of some kind (it’s a train, I’m always picturing a train) alongside its description of a relationship going badly.

8. “Big God” by Florence + The Machine

You know I still like you the most The best of the best and the worst of the worst Well, you can never know The places that I go I still like you the most You'll always be my favourite ghost

I think this one could be any one of the three of them contemplating their complex feelings about the past at some point around season 2.

9. “I Still Do” by The Cranberries

I don't want to leave you Even though I have to I don't want to love you Oh, I still do

There aren’t as many specifics that match the characters going on in the lyrics here, since it’s more of just a general break-up song, but I also really like the creepy way it sounds.

10. “Fault Lines” by The Mountain Goats

But none of the money we spend Seems to do us much good in the end I got a cracked engine block, both of us do

Yeah, the house and the jewels, the Italian racecar They don't make us feel better about who we are I got termites in the framework, so do you

This one feels really fitting for pre-Freeze Wilford, especially the engine imagery!

11. “I Don’t Care” by Fall Out Boy

Say my name and his in the same breath I dare you to say they taste the same Let the leaves fall off in the summer And let December glow in flames

Erase myself and let go Start it over again in Mexico These friends, they don't love you They just love the hotel suites

Another song that is simply a) an absolute jam, and b) generally fitting for my favourite obscenely rich asshole and his terrible relationships

12. “You asked for this” by Halsey

I want my cake on a silver platter I want a fistful in my hands I want a beautiful boy's despondent laughter I wanna ruin all my plans I want a fist around my throat I wanna cry so hard, I choke I want everything I asked for

This one I can picture as Audrey—or maybe Melanie too, but especially Audrey—beginning to regret getting involved with Wilford, but only once she’s in way too deep for leaving to be a safe or easy decision.

13. “my tears ricochet” by Taylor Swift

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

Much like several other Taylor Swift songs, I just know in my heart that it’s the type of music Wilford listens to in secret, while possibly drunk and definitely singing along very dramatically. This one he dedicates to Melanie once they’ve met up again in season 2.

14. “Speed the Collapse” by Metric

All the way from where we came Built a mansion in a day Distant lightning, thunder claps Watched our neighbor's house collapse Looked the other way

This one has a lot of good apocalyptic imagery that I can imagine scoring Wilford’s life in the last few years before the Freeze, as he makes his plans to save himself and let so many others die.

15. “Ox Baker Triumphant” by The Mountain Goats

I will thank my ride and crawl my way back inside To the guts of the building where my enemies Hide in the dark like roaches And I will signal the camera crew and everyone will do What he's been trained how to do Sweat dripping from my face as my moment approaches

Click your heels, count to three I bet you never expected me A little worse for wear Practically walking on air

I love this song a lot, and listening to it lately makes me imagine Wilford plotting his revenge while on his way to catch up with Snowpiercer before the end of season 1.

16. “Firewood” by Regina Spektor

The piano is not firewood yet But the cold does get cold So it soon might be that I'll take it apart, call up my friends And we'll warm up our hands by the fire

Don't look so shocked Don't judge so harsh You don't know You’re only spying Everyone knows it's going to hurt But at least we'll get hurt trying

This has to be one of my favourite songs of all time. It’s very beautiful, and I love the piano in it. I’ve always personally interpreted it to be at least partially about someone surviving a suicide attempt, and the overall imagery about burning a piano for warmth—and this bit about not judging someone for doing that—reads to me as more of a general statement about the difficult choices people struggling with mental illness and other similar issues have to make to survive. I listened to it recently and I could picture Audrey singing it in the nightcar. I think it suits her well.

17. “Cry for Judas” by The Mountain Goats

But I am just a broken machine And I do things that I don't really mean Long, black night Morning frost I'm still here But all is lost

I think the imagery of this song suits the show a lot in general, but I can also particularly imagine it being Wilford in a rare moment of self-awareness about how much damage he’s caused to the world and the people around him.

18. “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide” by David Bowie

Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth You pull on your finger, then another finger, then your cigarette The wall-to-wall is calling, it lingers, then you forget Oh oh, oh, oh, you're a rock 'n' roll suicide

I love Wilford a lot. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him ever. I hope he kills more people, and I hope he gets his train back, and I hope he wins. But if he does eventually die in the show, I hope he’s found in the bathtub with there being some ambiguity about whether he really killed himself or whether one of his victims turned the tables on him, and I hope the climax of this song swells as the camera pans over his dead body. That’s the only Wilford death I will accept, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

19. “Source Decay” by The Mountain Goats

I park in an alley And I read through the postcards you continue to send Where as indirectly as you can, you ask what I remember I like these torture devices from my old best friend Well, I'll tell you what I know, like I swore I always would I don't think it's gonna do you any good I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok Down toward the water

Okay, I promise this is the last Mountain Goats song on the playlist. It’s just—it’s perfect. It has a train in it. And on the podcast “I Only Listen To The Mountain Goats,” John Darnielle commented that there’s barely anywhere you can go south of Bangkok before you hit the water, it’s a train going nowhere, it’s so good. It’s also one of the songs I’ve previously ripped a line off for my fanfiction titles!

20. “Sellers of Flowers” by Regina Spektor

The sellers of flowers Buy up old roses They pull off dead petals Like old heads of lettuce And sell ’em as new ones For cheaper and fairer But they die by the morning So who is the winner? Not the roses Not the buyers Not the sellers Maybe winter

And Regina Spektor closes out the playlist again! This song is another one I picked more on imagery and vibes than anything else. But since it’s about a young child in a world that seems to be moving inexorably toward an all-consuming winter, if it suits any of the characters, maybe it’s an appearance of Alex here at the end!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the playlist!

#snowpiercer #wilford #music #snowpiercer tv

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ilkkawhat · 3 years

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Any tips for first time writers? Specifically any tips and tricks for writing CSI stories and the Nick/Greg ship? Trying to stay in character and make the story interesting like a show episode instead of a boring text procedural is hard.

lmao as someone who is forever insecure about my own writing when it comes to keeping the characters in character, I think something to keep in mind is that you may view a character differently than someone else--and sometimes those views align with others, and most of the time it's better than what's presented in canon, and it can be really difficult to get confident about that, but I think that creating anything, even if it's not just writing--drawing, giffing, photo edits, etc, you do know and love that character enough to bring them to life under your hands and it's something that's just so like, poetic about keeping these characters alive, even if the show offed them or the show is cancelled, in these works (honestly the song "poet" by bastille says this best imo) and you may end up discovering parts of yourself as you explore these characters in depth, you'll learn more about them, too, and the more you write, the more confidence you will gain

but be weary of the validation trap (says someone who falls into it literally every time I post a fic)--do not rely on comments and feedback to let you know you're doing it "right." the fact that you're getting thoughts into words onto paper is good enough, and you are good enough and even if you don't end up sharing it, you still did something special that nobody else has done before, and that, is amazing!

I'm not gonna lie, a huge weakness of mine that I feel I've known ever since I started writing CSI fic is that I really don't do well in making cases for the CSIs to work on--and even when I do, the case is usually forgotten by the end of the fic and I end up just kinda focusing on the emotions between the characters and describing their feelings and actions the best I can and unfortunately the plot sometimes suffers because of that.

I guess it really depends on what you want out of your story--do you want a really intriguing case and basically make an episode of CSI, or do you want to kind of bend out of the procedural drama, and just write something fluffy like Nick/Greg going on a roadtrip or something actiony like them getting into some sort of trouble? (as I often do lmao)

Something that does always help me when I do decide I want an actual like, "plot" to the fic beyond just playing around with the characters and making them do things or experience things is that I'll make myself a very flexible outline--which I will admit, at times, does kinda drain the fun out of the actual writing part but I found that I'll try to write chapters/fics in segments in this way, like I'll have the start of a fic, and then when I feel like I need to break but want to write what I got going next, I'll have something in brackets like: [Self deprecation at home/drinking, evil Nick in the mirror?] (for agony), and sometimes maybe a bigger summary, and sometimes less to just kinda remind myself of what I wanted to accomplish with a fic

BUT know that there are gonna be things that pop up sometimes. twists that come to you halfway through a fic--or if you're lucky, you'll find that your reader friends will kinda give you a twist to add in (my fic Last Breath is the greatest example of this--I originally was gonna do like, 12 chapters but then @dannilea said "HEY MK GIVE NICK AMNESIA" and then the fic got doubled in length lmao) so don't feel confined to any sort of outline. go with the flow, go with what feels right for you.

I know it's a lesson I'm still learning myself, but do not pressure yourself with these sorts of things. there are no deadlines. you're not doing anything wrong. if you don't like something you wrote? don't delete it (i've deleted so many things--fics, my entire blog, old art and gifs I did and it's one of my biggest regrets that I carry with me and god...it just hurts) but don't be afraid to tweak, re-write or rework if you need to--I know ao3 has an option where you can even say something is a "remix" of another work if you write a fic and then somewhere down the line, decide to expand on it or change it up? (I think it's meant for that at least, I haven't done that sort of thing....yet)

and that's another thing--you'll always be learning new things as you keep writing. I've been writing since I was like, twelve years old. Had a long ass depressive gap (though I did still write some things, just not...as intensely as I used to) before I came back to the CSI fandom (which I never felt I contributed to before, when I joined tumblr I posted some caps but that was about it, it really wasn't until 2018 that I started giffing and writing and three years later lmao here we are!) and there are just hard lessons you do learn--like I said, the validation trap and pressure and all of that

but motivation wise, something I've been (trying) to do is write at least 100 words per day. Doesn't have to be a specific fic, doesn't have to be anything I intend to make a fic, but just...getting the words flowing. But again, no pressure, because I recently had another depressive bout and went 33 days without writing and it climaxed to me having another mental breakdown swearing I was never gonna write again and damn near deleting everything and giving up.........only to start writing again the next day (and full disclosure, I did have a friend helping me literally every day with that and if they read this, I hope they know how forever grateful I am that they convinced me to keep going and I would not actually be here without them)

You will need to recharge, you will need to be mindful of outside stresses that may be impacting your creative energies. And sometimes, you can try doing things not relating to writing at all. Make a playlist of songs that make you think about the fic; if you can, draw or make photo edits of the fic. find a friend to bounce ideas off of--so many of my fics were enriched by that, I can't even begin to list them all lol.

But above all, again, just know that what you're writing is unique to you, nobody else will be able to write the way you do, and that is just...so special. writing can be difficult, it's exhausting, it's a thankless job at times but when those words start clicking together and your fingers just keep typing/writing, you'll just kinda get this like, rush like nothing I've ever been able to match.

and lmao I know you said specifically CSI and Nick/Greg and feel like I got sidetracked--but the great thing about CSI is I feel like you'll have excuses to put them in situations given their line of work, but like I said before, you can bend out of the genre a little bit. Have Nick and Greg go on a vacation, or make an AU (even something as wild as a sci-fi AU--honestly Specimen Stokes is the most fun I've had in writing the past three years) or if you do want to stick to canon, and don't want to make a whole new case or elaborate on the details--play with an established episode. If there was a Nick focused episode, what was Greg doing and vice versa? Did they talk about things afterwards, or did something happen leading up to the episode that made them act a certain way around each other?

I'll honestly find inspiration also just watching the episodes--something I've been doing in these past few months of my rewatch is making little ficlets about the episode, like I wrote one about Nick and Greg post 6x02 elaborating on the breathplay that Greg hinted about earlier in the episode, or I made a revenge fic for 14x12 where that douchey abusive husband went after Nick, etc. So sometimes it helps to dive back into canon and play in that sandbox too

I hope these tips can help get you started and honestly, don't feel obligated to agree or do any of these things I listed above. We all have different ways of going about writing, and it is just one big learning process and something I don't think I'm ever gonna perfect or master in any sort of way--(not to say I think I'm the worst writer in the world but I just...try to humble myself and not believe I'm the best or better than anybody else cause that's part of the validation trap, you get those ideas in your head and then it can destroy you when you realize you're definitely not)--and there will be times you get heavily discouraged, but...you just gotta keep going. keep pushing. find outside encouragement, but don't rely on it. practice a lot of self care and don't pressure yourself to finish or share or write more than you think you can. just...let it come, and enjoy the ride

I honestly feel like I'm one of the least qualified to say all of these things, but I really do hope it helps and hey, you already got one cheerleader, me, who will be excited to read whatever you share!

#writing #(does this novel of advice count towards my word count goal 😂 jk i already hit it)#mk talks

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

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the unseen one - 18

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: (fun fact i wrote this listening to beautiful ghosts which i have now formally induced into the fanfic’s playlist bc im a nerd who rly likes soft music) this is probably my longest chapter, yay me for writing a long one. hope you guys enjoy it xx

Next Chapter >>

Y/N looked at her reflection on the golden mirror standing in front of her. She studied the features she always saw in her own mirrors, the same face, the same eyes, same nose and same lips, however the reflection staring back at her was somehow different, similar to those renaissance paintings of mythical female sirens, goddesses, princesses and other deities. She had her once free flowing hair in a hellenic up-do filled with various flowers and a gold like chain intertwined with one of her brains. A few perfectly curled ringlets fell to frame her face which was still makeup free from last night, with a blossoming red tint on her upper cheeks.

She was dressed in a garment made of two parts, a linen white tunic and a clock held together by an ornamental claps with Hecate’s torch insignia at the shoulders and a light pink sash at the waist. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would think of her clothing. When she was younger, she would religiously dress as a Greek Goddess for Halloween yet nothing she’d worn compared to what she looked right now.

Minthe had been silent throughout most of it, sometimes even giving her judgmental looks whenever she questioned about the fabrics and flowers being used to adorn her. She didn’t completely blame her for doing such things, deities were only found of mortals for two things: war and procreation. It didn’t take long for her to return to the gardens, being placed in front of Hecate who was commanding her maidens like a captain on a ship.

- Do you know anything about gardening? - she looked down on the mortal dressed in deity clothing, which she had to admit, seemed to fit her better than the cheap satin piece she was wearing.

- I can manage. - Y/N rubbed her hands out of anxiety when talking to one of the goddesses of the Underworld.

- Well, pick something and get to work. - Hecate pointed aimlessly towards the groves and their dying flora. Y/N heart tightened at seeing the muddy green colour that the plants had beginning to take, a stark contrast to the lively, colourful flora of its surroundings. Her eyes locked on a particular rose bush whose roses were brownish white, some of its petals constantly falling to the ground whenever the slight summer breeze hit it. She took it upon herself to tend to it, walking over the to wilting bush and sitting gracefully on the grace, hands softly touching the dead flowers which she once imagined to have been the most beautiful flowers.

Y/N decided to take care of the flowers the way she took care of her little plants back in her flat. She started by getting rid of the dead leaves, carefully pulling them from the branches and onto the floor, trimming it to the best she could possible manage. Y/N kept on trimming, eventually reading the thorny white roses, some which were just in desperate need of water and others which were past the point of no return. She directed her attention to those, pulling a few out and onto her robes until a specific one found itself a challenge. The young girl extended her hand deeper into the rose bush, pulling the flower at its base, finding it rather hard to pull it from the branch. She kept on pulling and the flower eventually gave up, detaching from its base and sticking one of its thrones deep into her thumb. She let go of a tiny wince, not wanting to bother the other maidens.

Carefully, Y/N removed the thorn from the flower, throwing it forcefully on the ground before turning her thumb so she could face it. It had a tiny wound, so tiny that if she hadn’t known it was there, she would’ve never realised it was there. However, it was bleeding heavily, the scarlet liquid dripping and running from her skin to the green grass nearby the bush, staining it the same colour as the liquid.

She sucked on her thumb, mindlessly dabbing it against her clothing and returning to get rid of everything that did not belong to a healthy plant. Y/N was so into her craft she didn’t notice James returning to the Elysium. He watched her from afar, her lips and nose crunched as she inspected the rose bush with a might which in his mind was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

- Did you discover anything? - Hecate walked up to the God of the Underworld, curious for any developments.

- We are not entirely sure of who stole the pomegranate but we did discover her friend is an oracle. - Hecate rolled her eyes, if there was any type of witchcraft she hated the most it was prophecy telling. The prophecies were always unnecessarily over-detailed and more like riddles than actual pieces of helpful information. She already couldn’t stand the Fates and their seeing eye, but mortal oracles? They were the worse.

- Tell me you turned her into a fish ... or a plant. - Hecate was particularly found of permanent punishments. She thought curses and death were much too simple, however James was one to dabble in cursing rather than metamorphism.

- Y/N wouldn’t be very happy with that.

- Y/N is not the Goddess of the Underworld is she?

- You have absolutely no reason to despise her that much, Hecate. It is out of character for you to judge before meeting.

- I know how this ends, Hades. You are not the first god to take liking to a mortal and trust me it never ends well. - she sighed, arms crossed in front of her white gown. James had to agree with her, he knew way too many myths of when a mortal relationship went wrong but he couldn’t help it, she was just so magnetic and entrancing. Besides, part of him wanted to be next to her all the time and make sure no harm came to her which harshly differed from other deity/mortal relationships which were normally based on lust or petty jealousy between other deities. - You’re a King before you are a man. Remember that.

Y/N got up from her crutching state, standing on her legs as she patted the dirt and petals off her garments and onto the floor, a proud look on her face as she looked at the relatively healthy looking plant. She let out a little happy sound, hands clasped in front of her collarbones as she turned on her heel to go and find something else to do. Instead, her eye caught James’ figure who was standing next to Hecate in what looked like a innocent conversation.

She wanted to wave at him, maybe even give him an innocent kiss but Hecates’ words were still very much present in her mind “You are not to be intimate with the god of the Underworld” so were Minthe’s remarks about how he was expected to be seen with someone of higher blood. She wouldn’t want to get him in trouble and perhaps they could speak some other time when they weren’t surrounded by other people.

- What are you doing standing up there? - Minthe came up from behind her, a condescending tone present. - Ogling the god of the Underworld?

- What? No. - her cheeks turned into a colour that matched her pink sash, as she tried to hide her face in her hands. Somehow, the fact that he was, well, he was who he was, made her feel like she needed to keep everything shrouded in secrecy. - Is there something else needed?

- You know what? - her face contorted into a calm expression she couldn’t really figure out. - We could use some help from some new maidens.

- New maidens? - Y/N felt like a child, questioning everything and everyone around her.

- Yes, you see if you go straight ahead until you reach the river and ask the Charon to take you South you’ll be able to find them. Tell him it’s for Hecate.

- Oh, alright. - she nodded her head and wandered off into the groves, looking around at the decay. It looked like that particular piece of land of the Elysium was doomed to disappear. She kept on walking as instructed by Minthe until she reached the river where a boat was awaiting her with the same faceless figure. She had to admit that it freaked her out that someone without a face could speak but she tried her best to stay climb as she climbed on the boat, putting on her best courageous face. - Hecate asked for you to take me to the South.

- The South? - his voice was rather warm for such a menacing figure. - Are you sure?

- Yes.

She couldn’t see him do anything, however, she understood he had accepted her request once the boat started to move. Y/N remained silent, repeating Minthe’s words in her mind. How hard could it possibly be to lead a few maidens back to the Elysium? It was easy, she kept telling that to herself even as the boat reached shore. The sky had turned into a dark scarlet and the chirping of birdies could be heard no more. She looked around but all she could see was darkness.

- Are you sure about this, miss? - the Charon questioned, noticing the uneasiness of her step as she disembarked. - I’m sure Hecate can arrange for someone else.

- No. - she shook a forced smile out of her worried expression. - It’s fine. Thank you.

- Of course, m’am.

You can do this, she told herself as she stepped onto the darkness. There was no sound, the once dark scarlet sky had faded into pure darkness and it was cold, so cold. Her hands went to her own arms, rubbing them in order to keep warm as she dwelled deeper into the unknown, the only sound heard being that of her shoes clicking against the pavement.

- Hmm ... Hello? - she spoke up, gathering every bit of courage. She was in the Underworld after all and this was no longer the Elysium.

She kept on walking until she hit something, a blue and reddish tint coloured the dark room but once she saw what she had hit, her heart stopped beating for a second. She was standing in front of a skeleton. As she place her hand over her chest to regain her breathe the bony arm grabbed her cloth, forcefully pushing her and ripping her tunic.

- STOP! - she pushed her hand against the skull, trying to get away from the grasp, eventually gathering enough force to walk back. Screw this task. However, once she tried to find her way back she found herself surrounded by more skeletons and translucent figures all coming towards her. - HELP!

James and Hecate were still in their friendly debate with the goddess being of the opinion that all of this was madness and mainly caused by both of them being ignorants, something he had already heard before. As he was about to shut her to go and tell Y/N of the developments, a bunch of water nymphs came running their way with worry written all over their faces.

- My Lady, there’s been a security breach in the Tartarus. - they all said at different speeds and different pitches, which made James’ head hurt at all of that. Hecate took a defensive stand, turning to look at James who just moved his head is disbelief.

- How is that even possible? It’s probably just a false ala ... - he was about to dismiss their claims until he noticed a very missing Y/N from her once beloved spot. His eyes scanned the crowd of maidens looking anywhere for her but she was nowhere to be found. - Y/N!

Once he heard no one calling back, his mind immediately rushed to the Tartarus. She couldn’t be there, she had barely been in the Underworld besides no one would take her there, she was a mortal. However, in a snap of his figure he’d been transported to the Tartarus, staff in hand as he strutted down the halls of the Tartarus. He hit one of the walls with his staff, which turned dark blue, giving light to the constantly dark Tartarus. With the new founded light, he could see a bunch of condemned souls surrounding a particular spot.

- THAT’S ENOUGH! - he screamed in a tone that could scare even the biggest of deities, even Gaia herself. The souls, noticing their leader was amongst them, broke their surrounding, returning all to him. - NOW DON’T MOVE IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU.

James strutted further into the Tartarus, finding bits and pieces of white linen which could belong to her along with several fresh white roses. Maybe she had been picking them prior, he did not know. His heart clenched as he called out for her name but heard no answer, maybe it wasn’t her, maybe she wasn’t ...

- B...Bucky? - James heard her faint voice and as fast as he could followed it until he found one of the souls pressing her against one of the walls, boney hands around her neck. He hit the staff against the ground, the once pressure around her neck vanishing as she slide to the ground, hand coming to touch what he guessed was a very sore spot now. She lifted her head to stare at him, a look of regret and fear in her beautiful eyes. - Bucky, I’m so sorry.

- Y/N. - he rushed over to her side, leaning so he was standing at the same height as her, hands coming to hold her jaw. - Are you hurt?

- I’m okay, I’m okay. - she leaned her head onto his shoulder. It didn’t take long for him to feel his clothes had begun to dampen. - I messed up ... I messed up.

- Hey, look at me. - he tried to move his shoulder so that she would look at him, but she refused, maintaining her face buried them. - Y/N, c’mon, sweetness.

- I don’t want you to see me cry. - she sobbed through her speech, arms coming to wrap around his body. Bucky pulled the pin that was barely keeping the now very messy hairstyle up, throwing it onto the floor as her hair descended from the once tight hellenic hairstyle before proceeded to card his fingers through it, every once in a while kissing the top of her head. Y/N eventually stopped her crying, removing her head from his shoulder to stare at him, the look of uttermost regret slowly breaking his heart even more as he saw it on her expression. - I’m so sorry.

- This is not your fault. - he helped her get up, holding her hands in his as if something returned to dare and harm her. Not that they would, they’d have to be crazy to mess with the King of the Underworld. - I should’ve never taken my eyes off you.

- Bucky. - she wrapped her arms around him and for a second it felt like things were back to normal. It felt like things were normal again that she didn’t know he was the God of the Underworld and that she wasn’t doomed to remain in the Underworld. He melted and relished into her hug but couldn’t help but feel how cold she was. She was still a mortal and remaining in the Tartarus would do her no good.

- Let’s go before you freeze to death. - he joked, not expecting to get a laugh out of her after the current events, however she showed him a small smile.

He held her hand as he guided her through the Tartarus, her eyes scanning the souls that once were harming her now stood without moving, not even daring to make a sound in front of their King. Something in that made her courage swell up, seeing them helpless standing around her without being able to touch her again. Her head held up high however once she noticed the fresh white roses on the ground, she couldn’t help but stop her step.

- They’re beautiful. - she mumbled under her breathe.

- Are they not yours? - he questioned at her astonishment with the flowers.

- No, I wish I could have such beautiful roses. I thought flowers only grew within the Elysium.

- Don’t bother your head with it. - he reassured her, although the question was still very much puzzling to him. - C’mon, let’s go.

tag list: @philogrobizedvee @keithseabrook27 @inlovewith319

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astraeagreengrass · 4 years

Text

illicit affairs [the woods 2/4]

No one ever tells you that picking up the pieces takes longer than shattering them

Word Count: 3.657

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of death and death-related themes, descriptions of a memorial service.

A/N: Thank you to every one that sent me some love on exile! I'm truly grateful for your comments and I hope you like what's coming up on this story. Special thanks to the always wonderful @xbuchananbarnes for helping me out with this. The banner picture was found here. Dividers are from @writeyourmindaway ♡

and you know damn well for you, i would ruin myself a million little times

Working for Nick Fury sometimes made you sick to your stomach.

"That's very old school of you," you said, taking a sip from your coffee. The styrofoam cup was hot to the point of almost burning your fingertips, but having something on your hands kept you from twisting them nervously.

Nick raised an eyebrow - the one you could see, at least - and drank from his own cup.

"Your father always said I had a flair for the dramatic."

"Humph," you muttered as Nick rolled down the steel door of the storage unit. "Do you think he would believe your conspiracy theory?"

He shrugged, black leather duster coat swooshing in the wind.

"Your father was a soldier and a spy," he stated. "One of the best, I must say. He believed in his orders as long as he could question them. So yes, I think he would engage my conspiracy theory, as you put it."

You refrained from comment. That was Nick's way: mention your father enough times to instigate your grief, just enough to loosen your morals. The shame was on you for allowing him - even if his suspicion of an undercover plot inside S.H.I.E.L.D. fascinated your curiosity.

“Can I ask what made you start questioning your own Agency?” you mumbled under your breath as you and Nick made your way to his SUV. The sun was slowly dragging it’s hues across the inky sky, the stars fading as the golden light came to be.

“When Stark hacked the Helicarier’s systems there were some… Inconsistencies,” Nick replied. “Which naturally spiked my curiosity.”

“Naturally,” you smirked.

“I suppose I don’t have to tell you that this is not an official assignment, Agent Y/L/N,” he said.

“No, sir,” you shook your head.

“Good,” he pressed a button and the car doors unlocked. “Besides, I’m sure Captain Rogers’ presence in Washington will… Stimulate the inconsistencies we’re looking for.”

“Shit,” you cursed. “That was today?”

Nick tapped the clock on the car’s navigation panel.

“He’ll be at headquarters at nine. I expect you to be there.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you said. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

Nick nodded.

“How is your grandmother?” he asked. “Is the treatment working?”

“She’s doing a round of chemo every forty days,” you clicked the seat belt tip in the buckle. “She’s stable, but, you know, it’s cancer. I visit her every weekend, though.”

“Are you sure you can’t convince her to move to the city?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “She’s never gonna leave the woods, Nick. Can you even imagine my grandmother living in D.C.?”

A discreet smile played in the corner of your boss’ lips.

“I couldn’t imagine you living in D.C., yet here you are.”

You didn’t reply, choosing to sip your coffee instead. Nick turned the radio on as he drove off the storage lot and a playlist of Stevie Wonder’s greatest hits was your soundtrack on the journey back to the city. Daylight was high in the sky when the SUV reached the Triskelion, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s colossal headquarters sitting right in the middle of the Potomac.

It was just past seven, but already the premises were bustling with people. You supposed that’s what happens when a superhero starts his first day on the job - people show up early, wearing their best clothes and flawless makeup.

“What the hell,” Nick muttered. “This is an Intelligence Agency, not a fashion show.”

You stifled a laugh.

“You can’t complain about motivation in the workplace now, boss.”

Nick shot you a dirty look.

“My office. Nine A.M. Don’t be late.”

You mock saluted him then went on to find some breakfast.

Natasha Romanoff’s memorial service was held on a balmy December morning, at a Christian Orthodox church in Brooklyn.

All the time you’ve known her, Natasha had never mentioned religion and you were positive that she would’ve cracked two or three jokes about the priest’s monotonous speaking if she were there. Only she wasn’t, and all she left behind was a handful of grieving acquaintances.

There was no body to keep vigil over or bury. In between the thousand of unsaid words between you and Steve, the subject of Natasha’s death lingered. He tried to explain, as he did to so many other things, and maybe you would’ve understood if you just tried to be better at listening - tried harder to make sense of the incredible mess reality had become. Apparently it’s not easy to retrieve a corpse when the person actually died on an alien planet almost ten years ago.

Natasha’s beautiful face smiled at you from a portrait sitting at the altar. Her hair was longer, cascading down her shoulders in fiery red waves that curled into blonde ends. The shadow of a smile on the corner of her lips couldn’t elude the sadness lingering in her eyes. Even so, she hadn’t aged a day since the last time you saw her, in a time so distant it felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else’s existence instead of your own.

Remembering 2016 felt like being dunked in ice water. Like the time you jumped into the frozen pond in the woods and opened your eyes underneath the stream, catching the twisted, milky sunlight. Looking back at that life - so peaceful despite all the trouble that surrounded it - was equally as numbing.

It was announced to the general public that the woman known as Black Widow bravely sacrificed her life during what was now being called the Battle of the Earth. Yet, when Steve called two days earlier saying that there would be a private service for Natasha's family members, you wept - not so much because a service meant that she was well and truly gone, but because she thought you were her family.

You met her at S.H.I.E.L.D., of course. Even before you crumbled to dust, you’d constantly wonder how different things would’ve been if you’d never let stupid Jimmy Rodriguéz’s words get to you. If you’d just ignored his taunts instead of hacking S.H.I.E.L.D’s database just to prove him you were smart enough to do it, maybe then an old friend your father never bothered to mention wouldn’t have come to your house in the middle of the night, saying that if you could bypass government-patented digital security, then you should move to D.C. and work for him. You would’ve never left the woods, never traded it for the tangled webs of secrets and deceptions a job as an intelligence programmer proved to be.

Perhaps then you wouldn’t be here, sharing a pew with Steve Rogers - the only man you’d ever loved and probably ever would. Perhaps you would’ve met someone else: a nice, normal, maybe even a tad boring guy, but you wouldn’t care because you wouldn’t be very interesting either - just a nice, normal, maybe even a tad boring girl. And the two of you would be ordinary, kissing goodbye in the morning and hello in the evenings, with the ever present assurance that this was how things were meant to be. Not the tragic tale of love and loss you shared with Steve.

You didn't wait for him to walk you out of the church when the service was over, yet your plan to flee without an awkward farewell misfired at the sight of Nick Fury by the door. He looked exactly like he always did - black leather eyepatch, black leather duster coat, seemingly plucked from your thoughts.

"Y/N," he greeted you, evidently surprised although only someone who's spent as much time around him as you had would catch it in the tone of his voice. "How are you?"

"Good," you replied, way too quickly. "Fine."

Nick nodded, then turned to the blonde woman next to him.

"Carol, this is Agent Y/N Y/L/N," he introduced you. "Y/N, this is Captain Carol Danvers."

"Former agent," you corrected, shaking the hand Carol extended. She had a gentle, but strong grip. Noticing her gaze looking up, you turned around to find Steve approaching.

"Carol, Nick," he acknowledged them, then said to you: "You ready to go?"

You nodded, whispering a quiet "goodbye" before allowing Steve to lead you outside.

"Thanks," you muttered when you reached the open air. Even New York's polluted breeze was more refined than the stifling atmosphere inside the church and you inhaled deeply.

"No problem," he smiled. "I was hoping we could talk. You know, if you had the time."

You had all the time in the world, or so it seemed these days. Almost two months had dragged by since you woke up on the floor of your apartment and every minute seemed to make up for the years you missed. You weren’t working or even living in the old building in Bushwick anymore - Cal and Daniel, the father and son duo that first aided you, were. You were just going through the motions.

No one tells you that picking up the pieces takes longer than shattering them. No one bothers saying that when they break, they scatter, and compiling whatever’s left is a perverted scavenger hunt.

“There’s a coffee shop over there,” Steve pointed to a row of storefront across the church parking lot when you hesitated to give him an answer.

You shook your head, trying to scare off the white noise that always seemed to pester you.

“Sure,” you said, wondering if in your alternate life you’d know how to say no to Steve Rogers.

“So, you've experienced this sort of thing before?” Nick said.

“You get used to it,” Steve replied, looking down at the gravestone. Carved on the marble were the words: Col. Nicholas J. Fury, The path of the righteous man. Ezekiel 25:17.

“We've been data-mining HYDRA's files,” Nick continued. “Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship. I'm headed to Europe tonight, wanted to ask if you'd come.”

Steve shook his head.

“There's something I gotta do first.”

“How about you, Wilson?” Nick turned to Sam. “Could use a man with your abilities.”

“I'm more of a soldier than a spy,” he replied, resolute.

“Alright then,” Nick sighed and you thought he was honestly disappointed. He shook Steve and Sam’s hand and said: “Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here.”

He turned to walk away but halted when he saw you approach. It was the first - and only - time you saw him wearing anything other than the black duster coat and you were surprised to find him affable, rather than alien.

He pointed to the file in your hands.

“How many favors did you have to call in order to get that?”

“A few,” you smiled. “Turns out I still have some friends in Kiev.”

Nick snickered, a whisper of a laugh so discreet that it faded almost instantly in the breeze.

“And you’re sure you’ll pull on that thread? With Hydra out in the open and Congress breathing down your neck?”

His real question was implicit: was your relationship with Steve Rogers worth the trouble?

“I’m sure,” you said, clutching the thick manila folder that contained information on the Winter Soldier.

Beyond the dark disguise of his sunglasses, you caught Nick’s gaze - and you were sad that things ended this way.

“Be safe, Y/N,” he offered.

Nick Fury was out of the graveyard and your life before you could wish him the same.

"I'm sorry I didn't call for a while," Steve apologized as soon as the young waitress left your table with your orders scribbled on a notepad. "I had to leave town for a few days."

You nodded, picking a napkin from it's holder in the center of the tiny corner table where you and Steve sat.

"It's okay," you said. "I know you have stuff to do."

He was still, after all, Steve Rogers. You never tricked yourself into believing you were his priority, instead accepted in your heart that you would always be second to The Avengers, Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes and whatever else Steve set his eye on and it was fine. You'd be the second place as long as you could be something.

"I went back to return the stones," he added. "Bruce managed to repair the quantum tunnel, so Sam and I volunteered to go back and put them in place."

Back. As in the past.

"Okay," you repeated, because your recent conversations with Steve constantly left you lost for words, with all the information about time travel and elemental crystals from outer space. "Did everything go alright?"

"Yeah," he clasped his hands in front of him, and his colossal frame made the wooden chair he sat in look even smaller. "I saw Peggy."

You looked up from your staring match with the napkin, astounded.

"Really?" your tone was clipped and Steve noticed. Throughout your relationship, Steve's former flame was the unmentionable, the firing pin in the granade. Even if you had accepted the silver medal, it didn't mean it wasn't agonizingly painful to know you'd never shine bright in Steve's eyes like Peggy's gold standards.

"In 1970, at Camp Lehigh," he rubbed his forehead. "She didn't see me, of course, but I saw her. There were a bunch of pictures on her desk - her kids, her husband, one of myself before the serum..."

"Why are you telling me this?" you interrupted him, napkin now balled up in your fist.

"I don't know," Steve shrugged. There was a light pink blush crawling up his neck. "Shit, I don't know why I thought this would be a good way to start what I need to say to you, but… I guess seeing Peggy live her life made me realize how much of mine has been wasted."

You scoffed.

"How could you possibly have wasted your life, Steve? You're Captain America! You've saved the world more than once."

"When it comes to you I've wasted it," he whispered. "And I'm no longer Captain America."

"What?" you gasped, purposely ignoring the initial part of his sentence.

"I passed the shield on to Sam," he announced. "He'll do a good job."

"Why?" you breathed out.

"It was time," Steve said, plainly as if you were discussing the weather and not the one thing that defined who he was for over a century. "The guy that wanted a fight so badly he became a military experiment isn't here anymore. He's changed, the world has changed. That shield is too heavy for me now."

You shook your head, stunned.

"I can't believe this."

Steve started speaking, but stopped when the waitress arrived with your drinks: cappuccino for you, espresso for him. She took an unnecessarily long time pointing out the sugar and sweetner were, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, telling him with a giggle to call her if he needed anything. Your coffee suddenly looked unsavory.

"The world needs Captain America," he continued after she was out of your hearing range. "But Captain America doesn’t necessarily needs to be Steve Rogers.”

“I think Sam will do a marvelous job, Steve. I just don’t understand where this decision came from. Is this because of what happened with Thonos?”

“Thanos,” he corrected you. “And no. This has been looming on my mind since before him.”

“Since when?” you questioned. “Because before Thanos you were out in the world being a wanted man. Please don’t tell me this urge for normalcy came to you while you were hiding like a coward.”

Steve sighed.

“Look, I know you’re angry at me and you have every right to be...”

“I know I have every right to be,” you cut him off. “I gave you everything and you left me stranded. Do you have any idea how hard that was? My boyfriend of three years became a criminal and he didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye before he fled.”

You slammed your fist on the table, rattling the china. The foam of your drink sloshed, a tiny bubbly dot spilling from the cup to the platter.

Lately, every single one of your conversations with Steve seemed to end in a fight and you were to blame. As much as you tried to move on, either your biological clock wasn't adjusted yet or your heart couldn't let go of the night he appeared on your doorstep after being absent for so long. It might've been five years in history for him, but for you it was a mere sixty days ago. You couldn't match this caring, attentive Steve to the bearded man in the shadows, indifferent and unconcerned, so you lashed at him. You nitpicked his every word and quibbled over the smallest things and he always took it silently, enraging you even further.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I shouldn't have said that. It has nothing to do with the subject."

"It has everything to do with the subject, Y/N," Steve exclaimed, hands flat on the wood, like he was going to reach for yours but gave up at the last moment. "I was so busy trying to make the world a better place that I didn't realize I was ignoring mine until I lost it. Until I lost you."

You rubbed your eyes.

"You can't blame your job for your mistakes, Steve. Or mine, for that matter."

"What were your mistakes, Y/N?" he asked. "You could've fled after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., but you stayed because I asked you to. You could've started a different job, but you took the position with the Avengers because I asked you to..."

"I loved you," you interrupted. "I did all of it because I loved you. And even though sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd said no, I don't regret it."

There's something about the air when the truth is laid bare. It shifts just slightly, as though nature itself can feel the weight of the words spoken, so it moves the atoms around to make space for verity. And in the essence of the world, it is immortalized.

"Do you love me still?" Steve murmured.

"You know I do," you smiled softly. "But I am so broken."

Crushed. Turned to dust long before the Mad Titan snapped his fingers. In the mad race to start over, you were so distant from the finishing line.

You were wrong: your recent conversations with Steve didn't end in arguments, they ended with you crying and him consoling you. This time his chair nearly collapsed as he rose, reaching you in just one step. At first he towered over you, arms hanging without touching your body, but when your sobs intensified he kneeled by your side, taking the crumpled napkin from your hands to dry your tears.

"Shhh," he soothed.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," you said, but it came out jumbled and watery from your tears. “I’m sorry.”

Noticing that the few other patrons and the flirty waitress were starting to look, Steve threw a fifty dollar bill on the table and pulled you up, wrapping his arms around your body as he led you outside.

Night was beginning to fall over Brooklyn. Sunsets in the city were all about spotting a few twinkling stars amid the smog, before the lights from the skyscrapers scrammed them away. One would argue that the sky in the woods, a dark blue tapestry with hundreds of twinkling dots, was far prettier, but you always thought it was fascinating to see the cosmos shining in the orange firmament.

The city had its own magic. It used to buzz in your veins when you first moved here, staring out this same sky from a window at the top deck of the Avengers Towers. If only you could feel it again.

“Do you feel better?” Steve whispered into your hair when your breathing began to even out.

You nodded, cleaning your tears with the sleeves of your sweater.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “I need to finish packing.”

“Packing?” he frowned.

“I got a call from my grandparents lawyer when you were gone,” you explained. “Turns out I still have ownership over the house in the woods, so I’m planning to move back home before Christmas break.”

Steve’s arms fell and he stepped away from you. The absence of his touch made you shiver.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “Another family lives in my apartment now and I can’t stay with my cousin forever, so…”

“You could stay with me,” he intervened. “You don't have to leave."

"I need to start over, Steve."

"But what about me?" he pleaded.

Steve Rogers never pleaded. He was stubborn and tenacious, the worst person to get in a fight with. You'd learned to cave because he never did, and it was better to swallow your pride than staying days without speaking to your headstrong boyfriend when his job put him in danger constantly. For three years you told yourself that it didn't matter that Steve didn't love you fully - you loved him enough for the two of you. Only enough wasn't acceptable anymore.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you, Steve," you said. "But just like you're not the guy from the 1940s anymore, I'm no longer the hacker from S.H.I.E.L.D. either."

Steve cupped your face, touching your forehead with his.

"Don't leave me," he begged. "I can't live without you."

You kissed his palm.

"We've made a mess," you replied. "Just let me try and fix it."

You owe me that, you didn't say, but Steve knew. In the misty twilight, he only hoped you could forgive him.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfiction #corneliabarnes #my writing #the woods

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chaoticspacefam · 3 years

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OC Music Meme

I was tagged by @raven-of-domain-kwaad , thank you! :D I shall tag (no pressure as always, only if you want to!): @mercurypilgrim , @mimabeann, @rainofaugustsith , @thelastenvoyyy , @a-master-procrastinator and anyone else who wants to do this one, yes, I promise I mean you!

Yaaay another music meme, I LOVE these, as any of my long-term followers/mutuals probably know :P Oh no, Raven what have you done! 🤣🤣

List one or more songs that relate to the following

*drags Rai and her three consecutive playlists full of songs in here and plops her down proudly* Now I’m not joking when I say combined her three playlists would run for ~10 hrs if I played them all back-to-back. Sooooo for that reason I will be trying to restrict myself to 3-4 songs per “question”, except for the last one which is annotated with an explanation there, ANYWAYS!

reminds you of them most:

Down To The Bottom - Dorothy :: This is a very new one to her playlist (discovered a few days ago), but it still vibes so well with Saarai’s attitude to love, and her need to have some sort of emotional closeness to other people, to love and be loved, or else she just doesn’t function quite right

Up The Wolves - The Mountain Goats :: This was one of Rai’s first EVER theme songs that made it onto her list as I gave the Ahaszaai the backstory that led to them becoming main characters, so it feels only right that I include it here. To me it perfectly sums up her character progression, from a frightened young woman with a lot of skeletons in her closet and no willingness to be a commander of anything or confidence that she could, to a strong and dedicated leader willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people she works with, and make sure that the person who once took it from her family will suffer the righteous justice he deserves for his actions. Oddly enough, Saarai never goes back to take over the Sith Empire as D’leah planned (in Subterfugeverse anyways), they do eventually “come home” and build something of their own with the other members of the Alliance <3

Bruno Is Orange - Hop Along :: This song is very important too. It makes me feel a lot of things and as I developed more of Saarai’s backstory and began tying everything together, it became an essential part of her backstory. This is 100% a “Saarai Song” in my brain (and I’ve had the script for that meme planned out for over a year, I’ll get to it soon :3), summing up the chaos and her own feelings on what happened with Tsâhis (and her mother and sister’s reactions to finding out about what happened, and Ty, the baby which resulted from that clusterfuck of a relationship)

Someone New - Hozier :: Kinda supplements “Down To The Bottom”, Saarai was a character who puzzled me sexuality-wise for a long time, she has a lot to unpack and a lot of nuances in her attractions, and for a long time (because it is the default for modern media) I tried to shove her in the monogamy box, except...that doesn’t work for Saarai LMAO. I remembered this song existed one day (I think it came up on Youtube shuffle or something) and it was the lightbulb that went on in my head that finally clicked and told me she was actually polyam as well (though ironically I forgot to actually put it in her playlist until @darth-bagel reminded me it existed again a few months ago LOL).

reminds another character of them:

All The Pretty Girls - KALEO :: (Sash - Zephyrverse AU) This one had a few options too, but I think this is the best song that Sash would associate with Saarai. Their relationship was slow burn, although there was near-immediate attraction there, Sash struggled with self-doubt and her own insecurities for a long time, firmly believing that Saarai would get bored of waiting for her to be “ready” to take things further and explore other options (she didn’t. They’ve been married something like 20+, nearing 30 years now, you’re stuck with her sweetie <3)

The Last of the Real Ones - Fall Out Boy :: (Lana - Subterfugeverse) “I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do.” Lana wasn’t looking for Saarai when she found her, but Lana wouldn’t have it any other way. Though Lana is a big pillar of support for Saarai, and Saarai in turn is the social “glue” that holds the Alliance together, what many people don’t realise is that the feeling is mutual and Lana relies upon her just as much. Saarai’s dependable, and trustworthy, even if sometimes she makes Lana want to roll her eyes into the ceiling because of her antics, she wouldn’t want to change her for anything, it’s that part of Saarai that she secretly loves the most because it reminds Lana that it’s okay to unwind and have fun or be silly every once in a while, especially with the people you love.

Shut Up And Dance - WALK THE MOON :: (Koth - Subterfugeverse) Koth’s relationship with Saarai took a lot longer to develop into something openly romantic because Saarai had a lot of stuff to work through before she could accept her own feelings for him, but the cantina party at the end of KOTFE was the moment that Koth realised she was comfortable with him, because it’s the first time she really opened up to him, the first time she asked him to do anything together, and the first time she didn’t flinch or jump away from him when he touched her.

reminds you of a relationship of theirs, doesn’t have to be romantic, can be paternal, friendly etc.: I’m taking that as an invitiation to do a song for each of the main ones of any kind and that means this one has like six songs because...Saarai has a lot of influencial relationships in her character arc, I’m sorry (but not really) :’)

Broken Crown - Mumford & Sons :: Saarai & D’leah (Familial, It’s Complicated). This one is probably gonna be the “controversial” song of this post but you know what I’m gonna do it anyway. Saarai and D’leah have a very complicated relationship, because on the one hand Saarai does love her mother very much in spite of the horrible things she said and did, and on the other...the last thing that she wants is to turn out like her. And sometimes, sometimes you gotta call your mom out on her toxic shit. Hey Brother - Aviici :: Saarai & Ni’kasi (Familial Love). “What if I lose it all? Oh sister, I will help you out. Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you...there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.” The “brother” part does not apply to the twins, gender-wise, but the essence of this song is undoubtedly Saarai & Ni’kasi’s relationship. When Saarai thought she had no-one else, Ni’kasi was there to pick up the pieces and get her back onto her feet. They’re ride or die till the very end, wherever Saarai leads, she knows Ni’kasi will follow her.

Son of A Gun - Lord Huron :: Saarai & Tsâhis (Romantic ”Love”, though I’mma be very clear here that he was a manipulative abusive asshole, but Saarai loved him so...quotation marks. Y’get it yeah? Good.) “Well she fell in love with that son of a gun, but he was not the man that she took him for.” This line in particular sums it up. Saarai was young, naive and a perfect target for someone like Tsâhis to take advantage of because she didn’t know any better and believed him when he said he “loved her”, only for him to pull the rug out from under her feet later on. (he got his tho, don’t worry 😈)

Youth - Glass Animals :: Saarai & Tyûk (Maternal Love). This is the closest I can find to a song that sums up their relationship, I have a lot of thoughts about it but there are very few songs (that I’ve found) that touch upon the essence of Saarai & Ty’s relationship. D’leah chose to blame Ty for his father’s actions, Saarai chose the opposite. She chose to love him in spite of what his father had done to her, and to make sure he grew up feeling safe, loved, and learnt to be better than that.

Curses - The Crane Wives :: Saarai/Sash (Romantic Love) Both Saarai and Sash have had difficult pasts, with a lot of emotional trauma, and they both had hurdles they had to overcome in order for their relationship to truly work and stay healthy. But with each others’ support, they’ve managed it and are all the closer for it. If you asked either of them where “home” was, they’d say the other’s name.

Sorry I Stole Your Girlfriend - Stereo Skyline :: Saarai/Lana/Koth (Romantic Love). Okay, I really really wanted to pick a more serious song from their playlist for them, BUT....this song is the song that started this ship in my brain so here we are. LMAO Originally, this popped into my brain as an idea of Saarai’s response to Koth’s attempt at getting between them in that scene of KOTFE on the Gravestone. Koth and Saarai’s moral compasses are very similar and I wanted them to sit down and have a proper, healthy discussion about their feelings instead of becoming enemies and sort of agreeing not to hold a grudge against each other, though I didn’t expect for that piece to get away from me and for Saarai to end up developing feelings for Koth too, I can’t say I’m unhappy with it. I love them and I will fight anyone who tells me I can’t make them an OT3, I can, I will, and I have. >:) (Healthy Polyam Good, Love Triangles Are Fucking Stupid (tm). No I am not taking criticism on this lmao) Though Saarai & Koth’s relationship isn’t sexual in any way, they love each other just as much as they love Lana, just express it differently. So even though the snideness of this song doesn’t really apply to them, I kept it in their playlist and it also became their ship name because it was too good to pass up, though “Stole” is in inverted commas as it’s definitely more of an inside joke between the three of them than actually seriously accusing them of stealing each others’ girlfriend. 🤣 (as always, Saarai & Koth thinks it’s hilarious, Lana rolls her eyes at the stupid pun but also secretly thinks it’s funny as hell)

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #swtor OCs #tagged meme #OC music meme #swtor oc: saarai ahaszaai #sith pureblood #the outlander #LS! eternal empress #subterfugeverse #ot3: sorry i ''stole'' your girlfriend #saarai/lana/koth #saarai x tsâhis #zephyrverse au #saarai/sash #the ahaszaai twins #the sith twins #yes i have written down a lot of stuff regarding the ot3's relationship and how it developed etc #one day i will throw them out into the world when i feel like they're ready #but they're not ready yet so sorry y'all you gotta wait #but trust me when i say this is very elaborately planned out #LMAO #[banging pots and pans] they're. poly. and. in. love. fucking. deal. with. it. or. leave #my ships my rules #complicated mother daughter relationships are complicated #projection? i don't know her #no sir #tw: manipulation #tw: abusive relationship

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