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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

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Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 7 | If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom finally pulls himself together to tell Molly he loves her. But is it too late for these two?

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

Tom paced around the house for a good two hours. Each plan he came up with to win Molly back, more hairbrained than the next. None of them would have worked anyway. Tom didn’t know where she was staying. And she had been smart enough to withdraw cash from an ATM to use for a hotel room. During Tom’s muttering and ranting, his eye caught the vase Molly put the flowers from yesterday in. The sight of them enraged him so much that he flung them across the room. It hit the wall, sending glass, water and flowers flying and leaving a mark on the wall.

“Fuck! Another fucking mess to clean up.” he growled at himself as he went to clean it up.

Tom sliced open a finger and the palm of his right hand, picking up the glass shards to bin them.

“Christ, Thomas! Can’t do anything right. Break the vase and make a mess, cut your hand to hell, destroy the one good thing…”

He collapsed into sobs against the wall, covering his eyes with his non-injured hand. The other hand hung at his side, blood dripping onto the floor. It took a good five minutes for Tom to get himself off the floor. He poorly dressed the wound on his palm, having only the use of one hand and not his good hand.

Rather than bothering to clean up the mess, he let it sit and headed to bed. Not that he would do much sleeping.

He woke the next morning to more speculation in the papers about his marriage and a splitting headache. He fixed himself an espresso. His stomach rumbled, and he realized he missed dinner yesterday. Tom opened the fridge to find storage containers of fruit with little notes on them.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Tom chuckled as tears welled up again. “Oh, Molly.” He opened up the container and popped a piece of melon into his mouth. His phone buzzed.

“Ben.” he answered dryly, popping another piece of melon in.

“That bad? I suspected as much. How did you fuck this up?” Ben chuckled.

“I yelled. I called her stupid. I got jealous. But mostly I yelled. I never should have yelled at her. She doesn’t like to be yelled at. I promised not to yell at her…”

“You’re babbling, Tom. How on earth does a confession of your undying love turn into you yelling and her, sleeping on the couch?”

“Never got that far, and she moved out.” Tom sniffled. “I, I don’t know where she is.”

“Well, damn it man, find her and fix this. I can’t handle another six months of you moping about.” Ben groaned.

“What makes you think she’ll take me back. I broke her trust. I did the one thing—”

“She will take you back because she loves you. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. Besides, didn’t Loki kick Captain America’s ass?”

Tom chuckled. “Only once.” Tom sighed. “But how am I going to find her?”

“Have you tried the phone?”

Tom glared at his mobile. “You are hilarious, mate. Yes.”

“One of her friends then. Surely, someone must know where she is staying.”

Tom shook his head. “She doesn’t really have many…” Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve got to let you go, Ben.”

“Where are you off to?”

“I got to sell my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“Worse. My sister.”

Emma didn’t expect to see her brother appear on her doorstep that morning. She had expected him to call first.

“I don’t know where she is, Tom!” Emma snapped back.

“You’re lying, Emma. Your brow always twitches when you are lying. Where is she, Emma?”

“I’m not telling you, Tom. She told me what you said.” Emma narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“And I need to tell her I was a right bastard.”

“Which you are!”

Tom shook his head. “If I tell you everything, will you tell where Molly is? I don’t care if she tells me to fuck off. I just need her to know I love her. More than anything.”

Emma opened the door wider and crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

Tom stepped inside. “So you know how after the break-up, the papers kept running stories about me?”

“Yeah…”

Tom ran his toe along the edge of the rug in Emma’s foyer. “So I may have come up with the idea of getting married to give the papers something else to write?”

Emma’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “So you’re not married. Mum is going to—”

“Oh no, I’m legally married. I’ve got the certificate to prove it. I agreed to pay off her debts in exchange for carrying as my wife.” Tom’s voice grew smaller as he explained the whole arrangement.

“Is Molly a—”

“Don’t even say it, Emma or I swear. Don’t speak ill of Molly. She is a nice girl who has managed admirably despite a horrific childhood. And I…” He struggled to find the words.

“Fell in love.” Emma finished his sentence.

Tom’s eyes welled with tears, and he nodded. “I did. I didn’t mean to, but I did, Em. She is…” Tom choked. “… my world. I love her so much it burns me from the inside out and she doesn’t know. She needs to know. I can’t let her go without her knowing she is loved. By me.” A tear fell onto Tom’s cheek.

Emma stood there for a moment, silently staring at her brother, crying in her foyer. “You realize by telling me all this, I will have enough to blackmail you until the end of time to not tell Mother?”

“A price I will gladly pay to get the chance to talk to my wife one more time.” Tom gazed up at his sister. “Will you help me, Emma?”

She shifted her feet around. “She’s at the Park International Hotel, Room 223.”

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, Em.”

“Go get the girl, Tom.” she smiled at him.

“Thanks for coming over.” Molly sniffled. “I know you’re busy.”

“Hey, hey.” Chris reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s no trouble. You sounded so upset on the phone.”

Molly smiled over at Chris before her face crumbled as she cried again. For the looks of it, she had cried most of the night. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.

“Sh, sh, sh.” Chris moved to envelope her in a hug, pulling her tight to his chest. “Tell me what happened. It’s about the picture, isn’t it?”

Molly nodded her head against him. “Yes.”

“I can’t imagine Tom getting mad about that, babe. We are just friends.”

“I know, right? But Tom got so mad and cold. And he yelled. He knows how… how.. I.. am with yelling.” She buried her head in his chest. “I thought he cared about me.”

“Of course he cares about you. He loves you, Molly.” Chris pulled back. “You’re his wife.”

“It’s a bit more to it than that, I’m afraid.” She wiped the tears away. “Our relationship is…” She was on the verge of telling Chris everything.

“Complicated?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about it. And the fame only makes it worst. Everyone watching and judging. They have no idea what is going behind closed doors.”

“That’s an understatement.” Molly sniffled. “How do you deal?”

Chris smiled and laughed. “Not well. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m single.”

“A handsome guy like you?” Molly teased.

“I have my flaws. But my dog thinks I’m great.”

Molly laughed for the first time. “I bet he does.”

“But the important thing is that the two of you love and care for each other, and the rest of it is bullshit.” Chris sighed. “And you and Tom clearly care for each other. Why else would he act so possessive?” Chris smirked.

“You noticed that?”

“I could have been blind and noticed that. Tom has got it bad. And I can’t say I blame him. A beautiful, amazing girl like you. He’s a lucky guy. If you were single…”

Molly blushed. “Thanks.”

They sat in awkward silence until Chris smacked his legs.

“Well, this is awkward. I’m going to go get some food for us and bring it back, and we are going to figure out what to do next.”

Chris turned to leave. “Chris!” Molly called out.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything.”

“Sure, babe.”

Tom stepped out of the elevator and walked towards Molly’s room. The entire drive over, Tom went through his head what he would say to Molly. How he would beg her to come back. That he loved her. All that went out the window when he saw Chris leaving Molly’s room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom bellowed. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Chris spun around and his eyes narrowed. “I’m here at Molly’s request. Apparently, her husband upset her.” he sniped back.

“And you’re here to comfort her? That’s my job. I’m her husband.” Tom’s fist clenched as he saw Chris smirking at him.

“You’re doing a piss-poor job, buddy. She’s been crying all night.” Chris jabbed his thumb at the door.

“How would you know that?!” Tom marched forward until he was toe to toe with Evans.

Chris looked Tom up and down. “Listen,” he ignored Tom’s question. “if things don’t work out between the two of you, mind if I date her? She’s seems like a great girl, deserves a good—”

CRACK! Tom punched Chris square on the jaw. Chris tumbled to the ground, holding his face.

“If anyone is taking my wife out on a date, it’ll be me!” Tom yelled back.

“Tom!” Molly stood at the door. “What the fuck?!”

“Molly!” Tom and Chris called out together. They both rushed to her, but Tom got there first, kicking a foot out to keep Chris at bay.

“Darling, I…” Tom reached out for her. Molly took a step back.

“How did you even find me?”

“Emma told me.”

Molly huffed. “Traitor.”

“She knows.” Tom leaned in.

Molly gasped. “You told her?! But she might tell your mom. Tom, I…”

“You’re worth the risk.”

“I should say so.” Chris piped up.

Tom’s head twisted around to glare at Chris.

“You’re still here? This is none of your concern.” Tom hissed.

“I was invited.” Chris straightened his shirt. “Right, Molly?”

Molly held up her hand. “I think you should go, Chris.”

“But—” Chris protested.

“Tom and I need to talk. Alone.”

Tom smiled at Chris. “Nice to see you, mate.”

Chris wanted to push the issue but knew better. He sighed. “Fine, but call me if you need anything, Molly. I’m still in town for a few more days.”

Molly nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Chris.”

“You’re welcome.” Chris shoved his pockets and walked towards the elevator.

Tom returned his attention to Molly. They stepped into her room and shut the door. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours, Molly. And he’s already in your be—”

“Did you just come here to yell at me again?! And what are you talking about?”

“Chris said you have been crying all night. I assumed…” Tom stopped. “He didn’t—”

“No, but thanks for thinking so little of me. Did you come here to tell me that?”

“No, I…” Tom stumbled over his words. “I was wrong. I should have never yelled. Especially knowing what I did. You were right, I was jealous of Chris. I still am.”

Molly tapped her foot. “Anything else? Because you could have sent all of that in a text. You didn’t need to come here. It doesn’t change anything, Tom. I.. can’t… keep…” Her voice wavered, all her hurt and emotions mixed up inside of her.

Tom swallowed hard and exhaled sharply. “I love you, Molly. I am…” He chuckled. “hopelessly in love with you. That’s why I got so jealous. I was afraid that…” Tom fidgeted. “… you would leave me.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Molly fidgeted.

“I’m an idiot.” Tom stepped forward, cupping her cheek. “I thought admitting I loved you meant losing you. Our relationship was never meant to be this. It was business. And then Chris came along and the two of you got along. I lost my mind.

“The heart wants what it wants.” Molly whispered, her hands lighting on Tom’s shoulders. “Tom, I…”

Tom pleaded. “Please come back. I need you, Molly. I will spend the rest of my life showing you, proving to you I am worthy of your love. Just please come back.” Tom pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard and crying.

“I… I… love you too.” Molly whispered, starting to sob. “And you are an absolute idiot.”

They both laughed. Tom leaned in and his lips tentatively, scared she would turn away. Molly deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck, pulling him against her. Tom walked them back until she hit the wall. Molly gasped. Tom breathed her in and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting every corner of her. He wanted to know every inch. She clung to him for dear life, tasting him as well. There was heat and passion and everything Molly wanted. She leaned back against the wall, panting.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long.” Tom continued to kiss her, in between words, stealing her breath. “Marry me.”

Molly giggled against his lips, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m already married to you.”

Tom’s lips trailed down Molly’s neck. “Then sleep with me.” He sucked hard in the crook of her neck. “Let me make love to you, darling. I need you.” He pressed against her, desperate.

“Yes.” The only word Molly could muster in the moment.

Tom picked her up and walked her to the unmade bed and placed her down. As he tugged his shirt off, Molly scrambled with her shirt and pants, tossing them onto the floor, leaving herself in just a bra and panties.

Tom smiled and licked his lips as he yanked his belt off and pushed his pants and underwear to the floor. Molly gulped as she took in Tom naked.

“Bra and panties too.” he prodded as he crawled onto the bed. “I want to see my wife in all her beauty.”

Molly shivered at his words and her hands shook as she unhooked her bra and slipped her panties down her legs. She laid there naked.

“Glorious.” Tom purred as he settled between her legs. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, sucking and licking. Molly arched her back and groaned.

“Fuck, yes!” She grabbed the back of Tom’s head and pulled him closer.

Tom released her nipple with a pop and moved over to the other one. His hand snaked between their bodies to find Molly’s core, teasing her clit with his thumb. She bucked against his touch.

“Tom, please. I need you.” Her hand stroked his cock, teasing the tip along her folds. “All of you.”

“Then all of me you shall have.” Tom pushed into her, groaning until he bottomed out. Molly arched into him, filled to the brim.

“Yes!” she breathed.

Tom twisted his hips as he thrusted into her with long strokes, hitting that spot inside of her. Molly bucked her hips, wanting every inch of him. Her nails dug into Tom’s back.

Tom wanted the moment to last forever. Just him and Molly and nothing else. But his release edged near, and he wanted to please Molly first.

“Are you close, darling?” Tom growled in her ear.

Molly nodded. “Yes!”

Tom drew tight circles against Molly’s clit as he sped up his thrusting. “Come for me, my love.”

Molly soon came, clenching hard around him, causing Tom to come too, spilling inside of her. He carefully rolled off to the side, and pulled Molly onto his chest, smoothing her hair back and kissing her forehead.

“That was incredible, darling. You are…”

“So are you.” she interrupted, wiggling into the crook of the body. “Tom?”

“Molly?”

“Will you do me a favor?” She drew circles in Tom’s chest hair with her nail.

“Anything.” He held his breath, waiting.

“Take me home.” Her face breaking out into a sparkling smile.

Tom pressed his lips to hers. “On one condition….” She raised an eyebrow. “You move into the master bedroom with me. I haven’t slept a wink in weeks because you aren’t there.”

Molly laughed as she nodded her head. “Deal.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston smut #accidently married

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avengersassemble-fics · 3 years

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Stark Legacy

part 02/?? "the same fucked up past"

master list

previous part // next part

word count 5.3k

Okay so… Maybe you went a little too hard last night. This headache that you’ve been fighting the last thirty minutes was killer, and the sunlight that peeked past your curtains and into your eyes was not helping. You were so out of it, you swore you could smell bacon. Which could never be the case, it was just you here - and that’s what made your eyes open. You were suddenly hit with the memories of the previous day, and you sat yourself up to stare at the door.

No yeah that was totally bacon you were smelling. You rubbed your hands over your face and flung the blankets off your body, not even wanting to know how you got in here last night. You stripped out of your day old clothing and jumped into some jeans and a random shirt before preparing yourself for what you were about to walk out to.

You pulled your door open to find your living room tidy and put together, and in the kitchen your eyes landed on the backs of Sam and Bucky. They were hovering over your stove and talking amongst themselves, but as you came closer you could make it out more as arguing. You were more focused on the full pot of coffee begging to be drunk (by you specifically).

“Just let me make them sunny side up!” Sam told Bucky as you came up behind them.

“I’m telling you, you gotta have a little bit of crunchiness around the edges,” Bucky argued back. “That’s the best part.”

“I hate to say it but he isn’t wrong,” you said as you opened a cabinet to grab a mug. The two men glanced at you just as you began pouring yourself a hefty cup.

“See?” Bucky said to Sam who all but huffed.

“Thanks for having my back,” Sam mumbled your way and you hummed as you passed him to grab a seat on a stool.

“What is all this anyway?” You asked as Bucky plated a couple eggs and a piece of toast. He turned around and placed it in front of you and held your gaze for a moment before turning back around to repeat the process. You raised a brow at the two men, then grabbed the fork and cut into the eggs. “Thought you two would be gone by now.”

You missed the shared glance between them, you were too busy shoving some food into your mouth. But as you chewed and looked back up at them they faced you together, and you knew that look on their faces, and started shaking your head. “No-”

“Come on, (Y/N),” Sam tried to reason again. “We’ve got at least eight super soldiers out there. We need all the help we can get.”

“Can’t you track down Strange or someone who, ya know, wants to help?” You asked and took a sip from your cup. “Besides, I have very important things here.”

“Is that right?” Sam asked and you gave him a small mhm before going back to your plate. Just as you were about to dig into the other egg the plate was pulled away from you, and you raised your gaze up to meet Bucky’s stare.

“You’re bullshitting,” Bucky stated. You narrowed your gaze at him.

“You’re annoying,” you challenged. Bucky huffed and leaned forward towards you, and you shifted back in your seat.

“You owe me a favor,” Bucky told you. You shook your head at him and sighed.

“You’re really bringing that up?”

“Yeah I’m bringing that up,” Bucky countered. You held his gaze for a few more moments, while Sam watched the exchange from behind. You finally blinked at Bucky and rolled your eyes.

“Fine, but give me the plate back,” you asked and after a few seconds Bucky slid the plate back to you and you grabbed it and went back to cutting into your eggs. You were almost completely sure you were going to end up regretting this decision, and for still owing Bucky this favor.

It’s been awhile since you’ve had to pack for a mission, you really didn’t even know where to start. Sam had filled you in on everything they knew so far. Eight confirmed, though there could be more for all they knew. They had followed up on a lead before coming your way but it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. And he also filled you in one this new Captain America.

“So.. You’re officially out of leads?” You asked and Sam nodded while you shoved some clothes into a bag. “What about Walker? Think they have any information?”

“Even if they did, we are not teaming up with those two,” Bucky interjected as he came into your room. You could tell he was antsy, ready to get a move on. You ignored him though and zipped your bag closed. “Besides, Walker doesn’t have any leads.”

You could see Sam’s face scrunch up a bit as he stood to level with Bucky, and you raised a brow at the two. Was this going to be an everyday thing?

“I know where you’re going with this, and the answer is no,” Sam told him and Bucky shifted and leaned closer and lowered his voice.

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” Bucky asked and you fought back the urge to twitch at the mention.

“Okay Tweedledee and Tweedledumb,” you cut them off and they looked your way. “Anyone wanna fill me in on who you’re talking about because I know you’re not talking about the man who used my parent’s death as a revenge tactic-“

Bucky’s face fell into a straight frown and Sam looked at him like he was ashamed as well. You sighed and shook your head. “No, of course you would suggest that.”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate here-“ Bucky started and you scoffed.

“Doing more than just playing,” you mumbled and Bucky huffed.

“But he’s the only lead we have right now.” Bucky finished. The two looked at you as if waiting for permission and you closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. You were already regretting your decision.

“Fine. Let’s go see Zemo.”

You didn’t like this one bit. Bucky had gone to see Zemo a few hours ago, and here he was trying to talk Sam into breaking him out. Thankfully, Sam was more sound minded then Barnes was. They argued back and forth (this really was going to be a daily occurrence) while you sat on a bench in whatever creepy dark warehouse you were in. You snacked on a packet of fruit snacks you hid in your pocket from home, and watched the two men bicker amongst themselves.

At this point you were just along for the ride.

“Have you lost your mind?” Sam asked and you held back a laugh. You wanted to answer that on a dime and cleared your throat quietly. But the glare Bucky sent your way let you know he heard you. Good.

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky tried to reason and you watched him shift his balance and look your way. “At least I’m trying to help.”

“By breaking out one of the most dangerous men in the world? Who single handedly broke up the Avengers? Yeah, so helpful,” you said and shoved your trash back into your pocket before standing to join them.

“We have eight super soldiers that are on the loose, in case you two forgot,” Bucky said and you crossed your arms.

“We haven’t forgotten, but Zemo is gonna mess with our minds, especially yours,” Sam pointed out to him. “No offense.”

“Offense taken,” Bucky said in a low tone. “Super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He’s crazy, but he has a code.”

“Well at least you two have one thing in common,” you said below your breath, but the look Bucky gave you let you know he heard you, again. “Let’s not forget he blew up the UN and killed King T’Chaka in the process, and framed you for it. Oh yeah, and used my parents death as a revenge tactic, and showed the footage to my brother and I. Didn’t think you forgot that by now, or what about the Wakandans? They definitely haven’t forgotten.”

“Look, we get why this matters to you,” Sam cut in, almost taking a step in front of you to block you off from Bucky’s view. “But it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

“We don’t know how they’re getting the serum, or how many of them there even are, Sam.” Bucky tried to reason, and you scoffed.

“Aww, can’t handle a couple tough guys, Terminator?” You asked and Bucky huffed.

“Will you two stop with the nicknames already? I don’t understand most of them anyway,” Bucky said and you shrugged.

“That’s what’s fun about it,” you suggested and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Just hear me out, okay?” He asked. You stood there and listened to an elaborate plot of breaking Zemo out of his containment, and you couldn’t help but wonder what you were dragged into.

“I don’t like how casual you’re being about this,” Sam said and you nodded in agreement.

“It’s unnatural,” you agreed and Sam nodded with you and Bucky’s face fell.

“Is this how it’s going to be? You two teaming up on me?” Bucky asked and you shrugged.

“Probably,” Sam and you said at once. Before anyone could get another word out the doors to the warehouse were pushed open, and everyone turned to see a man’s back, who was closing the doors. When he turned around and took off his cap, your stomach folded. You looked at Bucky once more with a glare.

What an idiot.

“Whoa, woah, whoa,” Sam began to say and take a couple steps back.

“No, come on, listen-“ Bucky tried to reason. Sam looked back at Zemo and pointed at him.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked and Zemo just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let this happen,” Bucky said and you shook your head and looked at Zemo.

“For good reason,” you said.

“What did you do, Bucky,” Sam asked and Bucky motioned back at Zemo.

“We need him,” Bucky stated and Sam came back to your side.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam said to Zemo, who lifted his hands in peace.

“If I may-“ Zemo started to say.

“NO,” the three of you said in warning, and Zemo dropped his hands and listened to the bickering.

“When Steve refused to sign the Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and stuck your neck out for me. All I’m asking is for you to do it again,” Bucky said to Sam before looking your way. “And you owe me, so you have no say in the matter.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Tinman,” you threw back at him. Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back at Sam, waiting for his blessing. Sam looked annoyed but finally sighed and looked at Zemo.

“If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission,” Sam ordered and Zemo nodded.

“Fair,” Zemo agreed. You shared a glance with Bucky and shook your head at him.

“Okay Zemo. Where do we start?” You asked.

You couldn’t believe you were onboard a private jet, headed to an unknown destination, with the three biggest idiots you’ve ever met (well okay.. maybe second to a certain super soldier you did not want to talk about). You settled into your seat across from Zemo (please could someone end your misery) and looked out the window to the passing clouds, before a fuzzy feeling settled into your throat. You slid the blind close over the window just as Oeznik was offering you a drink, but before you could accept, Bucky took the drink from him.

“She won’t be drinking,” He told the older man, and you gaped at him.

“Says who?” You asked and Bucky handed the drink to Sam and sat opposite of him.

“Says me, as part of the favor you owed me,” Bucky replied, and started to search his pockets from something.

“My presence is the only favor you’re getting out of me,” you argued back at him, but he ignored you. You huffed and crossed your arms and watched Zemo pull out a small notebook, and your heart dropped.

That was Steve’s. And it seemed right as you noticed, the idiot beside you did too.

“Who is Nakajima?” Zemo asked. Bucky was up in a split second, snatching the book back and getting in the criminal’s face.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you,” Bucky threatened before moving back to sit in his seat across the aisle. Sam watched the exchange before meeting your gaze, and you shrugged. You had no answers for that.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo offered. “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Bucky warned and you looked across at Zemo. He offered you a smile and you shook your head.

“I don’t like you,” you told the Sokovian man. Zemo nodded and took a sip of his drink.

“Understandable. I’m sorry that you got caught in the crossfire,” Zemo offered and you blinked at him. “But it was necessary to share the truth.”

“By showing us a video of our parents being killed?” You asked a little too loudly. You had sat forward in your seat, and narrowed your eyes. “You’re the HYDRA expert. Tell me then, how do you think that affected me, hm? You think when I close my eyes at night that I don’t see that replaying in my head? You triggered that memory. You knew what you were doing.”

You stood from your seat abruptly and Zemo (probably everyone, but who cares) watched as you went to the back of the plane, and you locked yourself in the bathroom. You didn’t come out for most of the trip until there was a knock, and Sam’s voice spoke through the door.

“We’re landing soon, and we need you out here,” Sam said. You took a deep steady breath and unlocked the door and pushed it open, and it folded open to reveal Sam. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you told him honestly. Though he looked like he didn’t want to give the topic up, he nodded and motioned back to the front of the small plane.

When Sam and you regrouped, you watched Zemo picking through some outfits (where did he even get these?) before handing Sam one. It was an odd red and yellow suit, and Sam took it but raised a brow.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asked. Bucky was just zipping up a leather jacket that had his vibration arm exposed and you avoided his looks.

“That is your cover,” Zemo offered without, and seemingly picked another fit for himself. “We cannot simply walk in as ourselves.”

“All of us,” Bucky chimed in, and you knew he was directing that to you. You rolled your eyes and finally looked his way and crossed your arms.

“Just tell me the plan,” you said and Zemo looked to Oeznik, who disappeared around the small corner for something. Sam disappeared back to the bathroom, probably to change.

“Sam will become Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger. One of Selby’s usual patrons, while I remain as myself. James here, will enter as the Winter Soldier, and I’ll be offering his services to get us in with Selby.”

“Are you sure this is a good plan?” You turned and asked Bucky. Bucky was fastening a glove over his flesh hand and looked up for a moment at the wall. “Isn’t this what you’ve been working away from?”

“We need the information,” Bucky said coldly. You blinked at him as he avoided your gaze, and you looked back to Zemo.

“So what am I doing?” You asked. Oeznik came back around the corner with a black dress and you tilted your head.

“You are accompanying me for the evening,” Zemo said and you eyed the dress.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said as you eyed the silky dress. Bucky seemed to be paying just as much attention to the pick. For some reason, this changed his tune on letting you tag along.

“No, it’s too dangerous,” Bucky said and you gaped at him.

“Oh I can’t go but you can, and then go all Winter Soldier? That’s not how this works, Barnes,” you challenged and he faced you fully and got in your face.

“I’m saying that you need to stay put,” Bucky said. His low voice was almost a growl, and if you hadn’t been used to being outsized by a super soldier in the past, maybe this would’ve intimidated you. You looked him over and held his gaze as you leaned past him and snatched the dress from Zemo’s grip.

“Try and stop me,” you challenged. You turned around towards the bathroom, and just as Sam exited, you entered and relooked the door.

That was so… Weird. Right? You looked yourself over in the mirror and then looked at the dress in your hand. It was smooth to the touch, probably the same material of the dress you wore to that party Ultron crashed. You smiled a bit to yourself at the memory of that night, besides a murdery robot, you had met and got along with everyone well that night. Sam, Wanda, Thor… Natasha… Tony… Steve.

You cringed and shook your head. Pushing down the memories of that night, of those people really, you stripped from your comfortable clothes and into the satin black dress. When you could finally adjust it right, you smoothed the thin straps over your shoulders and looked yourself over in the mirror. The black form fitted dress stopped high on your thighs, and there was a cut out on the side that offered a little wiggle room for walking. You fixed your hair, touched up on whatever makeup you had on, and with a final glance you had to admit.. Zemo had taste, at least. You threw open the door and stepped out, only to hear the three of them fighting. Again.

“You didn’t tell me that part of the plan,” you could overhear Bucky saying.

“Buck, does it really matter?” Sam asked and Zemo nodded, in a fur collar lined coat. All together everyone looked… Okay, but separated it was a tad off. You blamed Bucky of course, if he hadn’t broken Zemo out this wouldn’t be happening.

“As far as I know, she can handle herself,” Zemo said and he straightened his clothing.

“He’s right,” Sam agreed and you finally decided to butt into the conversation.

“She can handle herself,” you chimed in, and they turned to look at you. If you were checked out, you didn’t notice. You had snatched the heels that were laying out for you, and with one hand you gripped onto Sam’s shoulder, and with the other you began to put the shoes on. “Besides, someone needs to keep you all in check.”

“We’d be fine without you,” Bucky tried to reason, just as you set both strapped feet back on the ground and met his gaze.

“First you want my help, then you don’t.. Starting to think I should just head back to the Netherlands,” you commented and Sam shook his head.

“No, ignore him. We need you,” Sam reassured you and you nodded in acceptance. At least someone wanted you around.

A light came on to indicate a descent from the sky, and everyone took their original seats. You ignored Barnes’ looks, and stayed mostly silent as the plane landed, and even as everyone walked side by side one another. To your right was Bucky, Zemo, then Sam at the end. You tilted your head to the side and felt a small crackle, and sighed at the released tension. Somehow, Bucky took it as an invitation to talk.

“Why are you so hard headed?” He asked quietly, as if to shield the conversation from the other two who were discussing Sam’s cover. “You couldn’t have just stayed on the plane?”

“I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who came to me for help?” You shot back at him and he rolled his eyes at you. You shook your head and looked back straight ahead. “But no, as soon as it became clear I’m Zemo’s arm candy, you changed your mind. Kinda misogynistic if you ask me.”

“I’m not trying to be misogynistic,” Bucky replied and sighed deeply. “I just thought you… Didn’t want to be reminded of doing this type of mission.”

You understood pretty quickly what he was implying, and honestly it made you even more mad. “You really want to talk to me about this, when you’re planning on engaging as the Winter Soldier?”

And with that… Bucky grumbled to himself and moved on from the subject. In the distance motorcycle lights began to form, as well as the headlights of a car, and everyone came to a stop in the middle of a road.

“No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it, there’s no margin for error,” Zemo instructed and you nodded a bit to yourself. This should be simple enough.

The ride in was ominous, the car silent as an unknown man drove the group to its destination. You were sandwiched in between Sam and Bucky, and you did your best not to meet the gaze of the man in the rearview mirror. This is fine, everything was going to be fine. The car came to a stop in the city, and everyone began to get out, and Zemo offered you his hand. Without hesitation, you took his guidance and he helped you out, and you walked by his side as the group made their way deeper into Madripoor.

God, it smelled bad.

There were guns and crimes galore, and you kept your eyes focused on Zemo’s head in front of you, Sam and Bucky trailing behind you. Zemo entered an alleyway that soon was filled with a bunch of people, and suddenly your hands were sweaty. Zemo came up along a bar and the man behind it turned around and looked everyone over.

“Hello gentleman,” he greeted and looked at Sam pointedly as you grzed Zemo’s side. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed,” Zemo explained and rested his arms on the bartop. “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked at Sam again with an odd look on his face before giving him a short nod. “The usual?”

You watched as the bartender turned around and moved to a jar, and pulled out a snake. You had to fight back a grin, sliding one of your hands up Zemo’s arm, while the other grazed over your lips to hide the smile that so badly wanted to form. You met Bucky’s glance for only a second, whose pointed stare just screamed Winter Soldier mode. Either way, he didn’t look amused.

Zemo had a simple drink, while Sam was handed one with something from inside the snake floating at the bottom of the shot. The two men clicked their glasses together, and eventually Sam joined Zemo in downing his shot. The Bartender still looked unsatisfied, but moved on from the group. You were about to remove yourself from Zemo’s side when an unknown man came up behind you, sandwiched between you and Bucky, and looked at Zemo pointeedly.

“I got word from up high. You ain’t welcome here,” he informed your “partner”. You glanced at Bucky, then to Zemo who seemed completely unfazed.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me, or…” Zemo motioned to Bucky by your side. You unlatched your hand from Zemo’s arm and held Bucky’s gaze. Deep down, you didn’t want him to do this.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo offered. The man looked at everyone and disappeared, and you inwardly sighed.

“What’s a power broker?” You asked quietly and Zemo shook his head.

“Every kingdom needs its king, let’s just pray we stay under his radar,” Zemo said and you nodded a bit and looked over at Sam.

“Enjoy the drink, Smiling Tiger?” You asked and wiggled a brow at him. Sam was about to respond, he probably had a good comeback, when Zemo looked at Bucky with a more serious look.

“Зимний солдат,” (Winter Soldier) Zemo said in perfect Russian. “Атака.”

Just as a hand fell on Zemo’s shoulder beside you, Bucky was quick to move around you and grab the man’s arm, and step into action. He pulled the man from the group and with a glance at everyone, he engaged. You watched as he practically laid the man out in full force, before another charged at him. With another hit and kick, that one went flying into a third attacker. You couldn’t help but take a small step forward with the rest of the crowd, as Bucky just… Demolished anything that came at him. Another man was flung forward and Bucky reacted perfectly on time, and before you knew it he had a man sprawled out on the bar top right in front of you.

The audible sound of guns readying made everyone freeze as Zemo carried on his Russian to Bucky, keeping the act up. But your eyes didn’t leave the back of Bucky’s head. He dropped the man from the bar and slowly turned around and finally met your look. You wanted to say something, you’re not a total asshole, but you couldn’t. Not even when you felt someone’s hand move some hair from off your shoulder and expose your skin from behind. You sucked a deep breath in, but the man’s touch wasn’t on your long. Bucky’s vibranium hand was quick to snatch the perp’s hand from your neckline, and you could hear the crack and Bucky bent (probably broke) his wrist and sent him flying back.

You missed where the bartender said Selby would see everyone, you were too entranced on Bucky’s gaze. But Zemo was quick to redirect your attention, and off everyone went to meet his contact. You… You just couldn’t believe how easily Bucky fell back into that, and didn’t want to think about the fact you fell back easily into your past too.

So things did not go as planned, as many of the missions you go on unfold. Lucky for everyone, an unexpected old friend came to the rescue. Everyone else seemed okay with it, but what were the odds Sharon Carter was in Madripoor? Either way, you were glad to get out of these clothes, and Sharon was nice enough to lend not only a shower, but something normal to wear. Really it was a sweater like material shirt and some dressy pants to go with it, but it beat the dress and heels.

You had zoned out of the conversation occurring around you as everyone settled in. You let out a content sigh, maybe you could actually get some rest tonight-

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?” You could hear Sharon say and your eyes shot open, and you stared at the floor. “The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.”

“He knows,” Zemo chimed in with his wisdom. “And not so deep down.”

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked and you looked up a little higher to watch the exchange.

“Don’t get me started,” Buck replied, and you watched as Sharon came around the couch to sit beside him.

“Please,” she scoffed. “You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr America! Cap’s best friend.”

You couldn't help the fist that formed by your side. What the fuck was her deal? You couldn’t just sit here and listen to this. You stood from your place and everyone looked your way for the first time since this conversation started. You looked over all of them and shook your head, and without a word went to the door that you had come in from, pulled it open, and shut it behind you.

You had no destination in mind besides just getting the hell out of the building for some air. The boots you had on clanked through the halls, and eventually you made it back to the front of the building, where the two guards glanced your way for a moment before going back to whatever they were doing. You walked past them and turned down the sidewalk, just far enough away so you could lean against the wall and cross your arms.

You just wanted to be alone for a bit. But that didn’t last very long before you could see Bucky coming your way.

He didn’t say anything at first as he joined your side. You both stared ahead at the lit up skyline of Madripoor. It still smelled a bit, not as strong as Low Town, but enough to where you noticed it. Bucky slid his hands into his pockets and you could see him glance your way.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked.

“Not really,” you replied. After a few moments you glanced his way, and sighed. He was putting in an effort… Maybe you could too. “I just… Don’t get it. How can she believe that after everything that’s happened? People died to get the universe back to how it was. But that’s bullshit to her?

“Natasha’s sacrifice was a joke? Vision was just a machine? Tony’s life didn’t matter?” You asked and Bucky watched as you worked your way through your thoughts. You blinked a bit, maybe to fight back some tears, but he watched you shake your head and lean back against the wall. “I get that her life was turned upside down. But she wasn’t the only one.”

“Maybe not,” Bucky replied and turned to you fully. “But people deal with things differently. Sam and I owe it to her to make it right, and her tune may change.”

You nodded a bit at his words and let out a small hum. Bucky looked your stance over and gripped his hand closed in his pocket. “Are you okay..? About tonight-”

“Tonight was fine,” you reassured him. “Besides, we should be asking you that.”

“It was nothing,” Bucky tried to say and you shook your head.

“I saw that look in your eyes, Bucky,” you said, averting your gaze back to the skyline. “You can say it didn’t mean anything, but I know it did. We have the same fucked up past. Like you said, I may be the only one who understands what’s going on in your head.”

Bucky couldn’t help but curse himself for implanting that thought in your head, and when he didn’t move to talk about how tonight really made him feel, when you both did return to the rest of the group, the thought lingered in his mind. He so easily went into the Winter Soldier mode, it was too natural. And he couldn’t help but worry about that, but also how easy it may be for you if something triggers that repressed memory of the Phantom program. Sooner or later he knew the Wakandans would come, and if he could get back in their good grace’s… Could they help you too?

- - - - - - - - - -

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nyd-needs-cuddles · 3 years

Text

What If (AU Snippet of Not Quite Black)

Au: Ace dies in Marineford

“What?”

Momonga stared at his fellow Vice-Admiral, incredulity clear on his face. Beside him, Fleet Admiral Akainu scowled at the still smiling Marine—or was it ex-Marine now?—as if what he had just said was a simple comment about the weather.

“And what do you exactly mean by that, Vice-Admiral Noir?”

Baccara smiled wider. It was not a nice smile. “I meant exactly as I said. I wish to resign from the Marines, Fleet Admiral.” He tilted his head, innocently. “Shall I repeat what I have said once more?”

The sound of Akainu gritting his teeth could be heard, and Momonga shot the younger man a panicked look, hoping to convey his worry and confusion.

“And may I ask why?”

Baccara continued smiling. “You may not.”

Silence. And for all that Akainu was the bearer of the Magu Magu no Mi, Momonga swore that the room’s temperature went down by several degrees.

Finally, after what seemed to be a lifetime, Akainu said, “...Fine. Wait until the Tenryuubito leave. Then you can submit your resignation letter.”

Momonga inwardly grimaced when Baccara’s eyes sharpened. Judging by the way his smile inched higher, that was not the correct response.

“I believe I cannot stay longer, Sakazuki.” Akainu glared, as if willing his Devil Fruit to melt this upstart from where he stood with his eyes alone. Momonga despaired over it all. “Lest I be tempted to do something... unsavory.”

Akainu raised a brow, vein pulsing. “And that is?”

Baccara’s smile turned into a feral grin, one befitting of a D, and sang, “This.”

One second, Akainu was standing perfectly normal on Momonga’s side. The next, the walls on the other side of the room were broken and cracked, with the other seven rooms following the same fashion. Momonga gaped, jaw working at what was obviously an assault, and stared at his former colleauge.

The face he was greeted with sent shivers down his spine.

Gone was the amiable smile of his lips, and instead left a blank slate with dull, silver eyes void of their usual shine. Slowly, the coat of Justice hung on Baccara’s shoulders fell to the ground with a muffled thud, and he walked away.

Momonga should stop him. Should stop him and ask him why he had done that. But there was something in his empty gaze that made him freeze in his tracks and glue him to the floor.

And so he watched as Noir D. Baccara left, chaos in his wake.

—

Smoker was having a bad day.

First, moving to the New World was a pain in the ass (and what the fuck, why the fuck do you need three Log Poses? Fucking Grand Line bullshit). Second, the G-5 Marines were utter dipshits and he’s seriously reconsidering his order to Tashigi of ‘not engaging’ because if he hears another one calling him ‘Smo-yan’ he was going to go on a murder spree. Third, Strawhat is still at large even though it’s already been a year since Marineford went in and over itself, and he’s been smoking three times more than he usually does because of that damn pirate.

Fourth, he now has to help watch over the Tenryuubito for ‘security’. Tch, damn World Nobles.

Glancing at the other poor sod enlisted to protect the rich douchebags, Rob Lucci looked perfectly at ease and as helpful as a brick wall in showing his emotions. Smoker wished that the Cipher Pols would get the fuck out of his life, but alas. It was not to be.

A few meters ahead, his Observation Haki picked up the presence of a familiar spirit, and he looked ahead to see—

Smoker nearly stumbled at the sight of Baccara’s expressionless face, and he could almost feel the eyebrow raising Rob Lucci was doing right now.

Though, what shocked him even more was Baccara’s lack of acknowledgement to their guest, not even bowing or minding them a glance. Something which the Tenryuubito took great offense with.

“You lowly critter! How dare you not grovel in the dirt where you belong!?” Saint Gregoria screeched, pointing a manicured finger towards the approaching Marine. Baccara gave no indication of hearing her, and she shrieked, “Off with his head! I want him dead! No, brand him as my slave!”

Smoker’s blood went cold at what he heard, and he turned to intervene when—

A blur of silver and a sheen of light passed by, and Saint Gregoria’s body was cut in half.

“What the—!?” Smoker jumped backwards away, a move mirrored by Rob Lucci, and he scanned his surroundings to look for the perpretator—

Baccara stood as still as a statue, indifferent to the blood dripping down Themis, blade shining ominously as red liquid pooled near his feet.

“Noir D. Baccara,” Rob Lucci intoned, eyes narrowed and voice low. “What have you done?”

With nary a hint of trepidation or remorse, Baccara met Rob Lucci’s dark gaze with a stare that could make gods cower before it and replied, “Justice.”

And then, spinning on his heel (showing his back at them, like he was not a foe), he faced the World Government’s flag silently. With growing unease and a niggling memory near the back of his head, Smoker watched him pull back a fist and—

“FIRE FIST!”

—flames shot out from his clenched fist, engulfing the World Government’s flag and Smoker—

Smoker could only watch as history repeated itself.

Head moving to look at them over his shoulder, Baccara started in a tone perfect for idle comversations and said, “Hear me now, former allies of mine.”

Multiple sounds of boots hitting the gravel echoed across them, and hundreds of Marines were suddenly surrounding them all, rifles locked on and swords raised. But all their faces were anxious, uncertain, for this was their beloved Vice-Admiral. Their sweet, kind Baccara. Surely this was a mistake? A misunderstanding of some kind?

“You may all rest in your laurels, but heed my warning—nay, heed my prediction with utmost attention.”

He faced the group of Marines in front, and bellowed with all the certainty of a man who knew the truth and saw it himself, and Smoker’s hair raised on its end.

“Portgas D. Ace will rise again. And with him, Monkey D. Luffy, the Future Pirate King of the New Era, will turn this world upside down!”

“How do I know this, you ask? Well,” and here, he smiled. But it didn’t reach his eyes. No. His eyes were filled with misery and hate and sorrow and love and hope that it didn’t match the brightness in his smile. “Of course I know. I raised them myself, after all.”

It took a few moments until the gravity of his statement sunk in. And when it did, Smoker inhaled sharply—

“NOIR D. BACCARA!” shouted Akainu, body dripping with magma and fury evident.

—until a burst of Conqueror’s Haki exploded from Baccara’s relaxed form, and the Marine HQ abruptly burst into flames.

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kenbunshokus · 4 years

Text

this is a (super late) update to this fic rec post! i was planning to just keep editing and updating that post, but it’s been so old it no longer appears on tumblr search system and all, so here we are. be ready for some old school zosans in the mix

all complete

absolute favorites will be noted with a ♡

list will be updated as i find more

story count: 30 fics

last update: jan 5th 2020

CANON-VERSE

Goings On by clarify ♡

Zoro and Sanji understand each other, and sometimes have a very similar sense of humor. Even though they're worlds ahead of most, sometimes they can't help but to act their age.

easily one of my favorites. zoro and sanji are completely in character, being themselves and comfortable in each other’s spaces. for anyone who thinks zoro and sanji can’t get along in canon, this fic can easily prove them wrong.

Part Timer by 8ball ♡♡

Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.

Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.

a wonderful, heart-wrenching, roller coaster ride of a post-series fic. this fic is not just a mere fic — it’s a zosan magnum opus with guest appearances by so many other characters, lots of crew hijinks and a must-read for everyone who craves for a happy ending for these good boys.

Say It Again by 8ball

Zoro tells Sanji how he feels. And then again. And again.

since we’re talking about 8ball i just want you to know i’d rec everything they’ve ever written, but special mention to say it again — a classic miscommunication trope fic done well where the miscommunication stems from fundamental misunderstanding of each other’s principles and views instead of just some plot-convenient coincidences. and soft zoro. god, he is soft.

The Wedding Night by cuethe-pulse (lj)

Zoro had never expected any of this.

major character death warning. don’t let the first few scenes fool you. note the warning; the last few lines were like a punch in the gut for me, except, you know, the good kind of punch. also, a quick rec of a drabble by the same author to soothe the pain after this one.

Roronoa Zoro: World’s Greatest Bug Killer by insaneidiot ♡

Sometimes, Zoro's life really sucks. He should've known better than to make fun of Sanji's bug phobia, though...

zoro’s internal monologue is hilarious — until today, this author is still my go-to expert on zoro’s voice, especially his more sarcastic side.

Quitting’s Easy by insaneidiot

Sanji decides to quit smoking. This is not quite so easy as he thinks it will be. Also, his crewmates (excluding Robin and Nami, of course!) are assholes.

fun, fun strawhat hijinks and oblivious sanji. the crew dynamics and especially sanji’s voice are pitch perfect. there’s a hint of luffy/nami that you can easily scroll past if it’s not your thing.

I can’t stop thinking that i can’t stop thinking by hieiandshino ♡

In which Brook changes tactics and Zoro is not amused. Everyone else is, though.

holy shit is this fic hilarious. i love comedy fics that manage to slip in thoughtful observations and character study in between the hijinks, and this fic pulls that off with flying colors.

The Walls See All by threesipsmore

Reiju hides a snail cam in her brother's room.

fun short fic from reiju’s pov. there’s never enough zosan set in whole cake island arc and this fic delivers.

Stormbird by Judin ♡

The Straw Hats' first landing in the New World is on Arashi Island, where it looks like they'll be spending a fun week attending the local festival and making new friends. Until they spot a strange pirate ship in the harbour, and Sanji starts behaving oddly. The Straw Hats become entangled with the mysterious Gently Pirates, a crew that harbour many secrets, and whose captain is a man out of Sanji's past who has the power to tear the Straw Hat crew apart.

it cannot be overstated how wonderful this fic is, and how it could’ve fit into the canon just nicely, like a better-written one piece movie, except with zosan. not only are sanji and zoro in character, every strawhat gets a spotlight and has pitch-perfect voices. brook is especially lovely in this fic.

Unintended Consequence by itsmylifekay

A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

there’s a reason this is the most kudo-ed zosan fic on ao3 right now — it’s so soft without being ooc, and there’s a quiet undercurrent of affection laid throughout the fic that will warm you up from the insides.

Somewhere Between Sorrow and Bliss by srididdledeedee

Sanji has never cared for winter.

He can see himself, is the thing. There are bits and pieces that poke through, but it’s not all him. It’s like staring in a fractured mirror. He knows, intellectually, that the person staring back at him is himself, but his face is splintered and his shape is distorted and his body is wrong.

a fantastic character study on trans!sanji and how he comes to terms with his identity with the help of his crewmates. supportive strawhats are always a lovely addition to a zosan fic

Give In To Love by libbylune

Zoro knows better than to think about it too much, but between the rowdy festivals and ancient unexplained temples on this island, it's hard to forget about wanting Sanji.

i love how this fic puts as much focus on the boys after the confession as it does before the confession. a good case fic with its own unique island adventure and i’m always a sucker for soft!zoro

Laundry by libbylune

Dealing with Sanji makes Zoro develop a lot of opinions about clothes.

there’s absolutely nothing hotter than bi!sanji who’s completely comfortable with his gender identity and sexuality. also gay disaster zoro fumbling his words whenever sanji is around is 1) accurate 2) hilarious.

Language of Swords by HaveMyWeedCookies ♡

It took them for a while but finally, Zoro asked if Sanji wanted to hold his sword.

i love fics that explore zoro’s relationship with his craft and his swords, and adding zosan into the mix is something i didn’t know i needed. an interesting outsiders pov zosan in the pov of zoro’s swords.

Ghost of a Chance by sabershadowkat

“I know, for sure, that I didn’t expect to miss everyone so much, including you.” Sanji cut a glance at Zoro and rephrased correctly, “Especially you.”

this fic handles tropes that are usually associated with character death fics, but manages to end it with a happy ending. zoro’s devotion here is heart-wrenching.

Idiot Romance by sabershadowkat

"This has to be a joke," Sanji muttered, poking at the colored petals. Zoro couldn't have just given him flowers.

a classic — this is literally the first zosan fic i’ve ever read — and a lovely one at that. sanji is oblivious and zoro attempts romance, not that zoro ever needed to.

festival night by thisislegit

“ANOTHER FEAT BY THE WORLD’S STRONGEST MAN, JORIRI.” The woman turned to Mr. Mohawk and with faux sympathy said, “Oh! Sorry, sir. Maybe next time. We can’t always beat the best, but we can do our best and that’s what matters. Do we have any other takers? ANY OTHER TAKERS READY FOR THE STRONG MAN CHALLENGE? HOW ABOUT YOU SIR? MADAM? YOU OVER THERE? ARE YOU INTERESTED?”

“What kind of shit name is Joriri,” said Zoro and Sanji in unison.

i’m an absolute sucker for fics that have zoro and sanji simply hanging out and enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in a way they couldn’t with their other crewmates, and this fic exemplifies that. just them being little shits and having fun with one another.

No Victory in Hesitation & the Past Has Its Lessons by EudaimonErisornae & vageege

Zoro has a lot of things he wants to say to Sanji, but he just needs one more day. || Zoro tries to fix a mistake he made in the past.

major character death warning. i died a little bit inside after reading this tbh. there are some devil fruits-explained time travel hijinks, but mostly it’s this looming, grim inevitability of death that’s written so pervasively throughout the fic that really got me.

Imperatives by dollcewrites

Zoro is confident in saying that Sanji is a man who doesn’t do what he’s told. Which is why, when a command accidentally slips from Zoro’s lips during foreplay, he is expecting to hear the cook’s scoff as he continues to do what he pleases.

i don’t tend to do pwp, but this isn’t just one — it’s a completely in-character piece about their relationship and dynamics.

when you say by bluewalk ♡

It's a long time in coming. Usopp can promise, but.

this fic is as much sanuso as it is zosan, and usopp here is — still very much usopp, but also a very beautiful take on his character as someone who spent a lot of time behind sanji’s back, and realizes that when he watches sanji’s back, he gets to see zoro’s, too.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny

Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew.

while the main ship is still zosan, the fic also focuses a lot on zoro and sanji’s relationship with the rest of the crew, and it’s one of those fics that really makes you realize how much of a family the strawhats is. a lovely read all around.

destructivity is a poison that run through our veins by wasteofmind

Zoro thinks that, someday, they are going to kill each other.

a dysfunctional take of their relationship. it’s fascinating in the same way a car crash is fascinating — there’s an undercurrent of something violent, something visceral. this is one of the fics that inspired me to write migratory animals.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Ocean’s Child by 8ball ♡

Here's the truth: Zoro couldn't swim. He fell in the water and sank like a stone because there had never been anyone to teach him how to move his arms. He forgot that if he screamed for help the water would get in his mouth, and he even opening his eyes hurt.

Here’s the other truth, the one that stays a secret: a mermaid saved him.

a fascinating retelling of the one piece canon with mermaid!sanji. it feels a lot like a love letter to the seas, and it’s mesmerizing how sanji’s mermaid backstory is seamlessly weaved into the one piece canon.

with you by Cirro

How to find your life partner in three easy steps: 1. Punch them in the face 2. Insult their cognitive abilities 3. Embarrass them so much they agree to marry you

a wholesome two-part modern au series. my personal favorite is the second part, where sanji brings zoro home to meet zeff — complete with the two of them teasing sanji in their own ways.

The Proper Reaction (or What To Do When Your Son Brings His Boyfriend Home by three_days_late

Holidays at the Baratie were always hectic, but it's nothing Zeff can't handle. Sanji's new boyfriend, on the other hand...

on the topic of meet-the-family: the only thing more fun than zoro meeting zeff is zoro meeting zeff and the entirety of baratie staff. also includes one of my favorite line about bi!sanji: “sanji loves nice girls and bad boys”.

Exclusive by cuethe-pulse

Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?

this is a circus/bakery au. yes, you read that right, and yes, it works. i went into this fic with a lot of doubts and came out very satisfied with how fleshed out everyone in this au is, and i’m forever in awe with how the author can set up an entirely separate, vivid universe with so few words.

Delivery by styx_in_the_mud

Sanji is stuck delivering pizzas when Patty is out of commission for a while. Zoro likes to order pizza after training. Both of them are sort of idiots, but Zoro can be smooth as fuck if he puts his mind to it.

a fun, in-character au with good ol’ banter and cute get-together.

The End of It All by xpiester333xx

Humans have been forced underground due to the effects of a chemical weapon that has made surface life impossible. Sanji lives in one of these underground colonies and though he dreams of bigger things his life has been mundane; spent following strict rules and obeying higher commands. Or it was, until a stranger shows up and changes everything.

the author labelled it as sci-fi au, but I personally think it’s more dystopian-like? either way, while this fic is on the long side, it manages to keep everyone in character until the very end, which is something that can’t be said for a lot of fics.

well, there we go! feel free to drop me an ask if you want to rec me fics or ask for a more specific/themed rec list; i’ll also update this post regularly !!

i also have an ao3 donutsandcoffee if you want to see my take on these dorks o/

#opgraphics #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #opfanfic #one piece #fic rec #mine*#mine: fic rec #//#zoro #op

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Pomegranates (Spideypool)

A very Spideypool twist on the Hades/Persephone story. It hurt my soul to not write 12381927 words of lore and mythology and world building on this, but I love what I managed to get down without going too far over the commission limit (which was 7500 words, and this is like, 12k but hey, its not THAT far over the commission limit, right?) Plus, I love a Peter who is determined to love Wade no matter what.

@pumpkin-spidey thank you for commissioning this and for allowing me to go a little wild with the interpretation and for responding to my nonsense emails while I chattered about random greek mythology bullshit... you’re the best!

THERE’S MORE SPIDEYPOOL ON MY MASTERLIST!

Enjoy!

*****************

In the beginning–

No. Not the beginning. In the before the beginning, before the humans knew what the beginning was and wove stories to try and explain the cosmos–

In the before the beginning, the Titans and giants ruled and the gods rose up to overthrow them. Anthony fought in the heavens and took the throne of Olympus, his heart glowing from his chest and lightning flashing in his palms. Steven fought among the waves, subduing the Hydra monsters and claiming the throne of the seas. The other gods settled through out the world, content with minor titles and various duties and Wade– Wade came to stand in the throne room of Olympus, his body twisted from the fight, his skin scarred from a thousand wounds, his immortality not enough to keep the pain at bay, his psyche and soul shredded by brutality.

There was still blood on his hands, the stink of ravaged Titans clinging to his shoulders, the wounds of countless battles trying and failing to heal. They called him Deadpool now, the unkillable one, the unstoppable one, the one that came in the night with flashing swords and maniacal laughter. There would be stories written of the terror he’d brought to the giants, there would be songs sang in the dark of the way he killed, the way the victims screamed to the stars for help and none came.

They had fought in the skies and in the depths but it had been Deadpool that had fought in the worst of it all and turned the tide of war and for his prize, for his reward, for his efforts–

“No.” Deadpool whispered, when Anthony took him to the place where the ground fell away and stairs dropped deep into the earth. “No, please–” he begged when the stench of the river reached his nose and the cries of a million souls yet to be collected came to his ears. “I deserve a seat in Olympus, I gave everything to fight this war, don’t condemn me to the Underworld.”

The lonely howl of the beast Cerebus and the cold empty of a realm where nothing grew made Deadpool shiver and he fell to his knees, clutching at the green grass. “Don’t shut me away.”

“All thrones need a ruler.” Anthony’s voice was unrelenting, but not unkind. “You are one of us trapped between living and gone, your soul in pieces but not destroyed, your body warped but unable to perish. You will reign over the Underworld, watching over the souls that linger, punishing those that deserve the darker places. Deadpool–”

“–my name is Wade.” he choked out. “Please– please–”

“This is not a punishment.” the god said slowly. “Your power here will be limitless, you will be able to cover your scars, settle your mind, ease your pain. You are hurt brother, and the brightness of Olympus would shatter all that is left of you. You are a being that is neither dead nor alive and here in the place below places, you will be home and you will be safe.”

“Home.” Wade Deadpool looked up to the sky, to the sunshine, to the flowers that bloomed and the trees that offered fruit and whispered, “But nothing grows down there.”

“Nothing dies, either.” Anthony strived for comforting, but his words fell flat. “This is the safest I can make you, the only way I know to keep you from falling apart. In a place with no time, your descent to madness and pain will be halted.”

Nothing dies either.

What if I want to die?

“Please.” Deadpool whispered, even as spectral hands came to drag him below. “…please…”

The throne of the Underworld was dark and cold, unforgiving rock and unrelenting stone and Deadpool huddled into the blue grey shadows to hide his scarred face.

The river Styx flowed silent, the souls themselves hushed as if waiting for a proclamation from their new King and Cerebus held itself very still.

From the darkness, from the corners, from the rotting places and damp rocks, slithering and creeping to the throne came Panic and Pain, winding their way into Deadpool’s mind and whispering in his head, voices in his ear, terror on his skin.

The Earth closed herself to him, and no sunlight came to touch his face, and even the Fates turned their back and let the golden strand of his life lie mangled and nearly torn, stained with blood and dulled to nearly black.

And Deadpool threw his head back and screamed and screamed and screamed.

**************

There was no time in the Underworld, there was neither day nor night, not sunshine or rain. There was nothing but monotony, nothing but sameness, nothing but cold and damp and muted colors, bare branches and silent waves, the wail of those in the darker places, the melancholy of those meant to whirl endlessly in the chasm, the quiet tears of the ones Charon carried between worlds.

Deadpool lived a thousand lifetimes listening to terrible whisperings in his ear, suffered an eternity feeling his skin and body twist and shudder and hurt and as Wade’s power grew in his new realm and he earned his place in legend and myth as Keeper of the Underworld, not even the endless amount of hours could still the loneliness in what was left of his soul, the sadness in what was left of his heart.

It was a century in the dark, a millennia in the shadows, a life time and a day, an hour and a decade, only a breath and then a terrifying amount of uncountable seconds, and the sameness of it all drove Wade to the brink of madness and beyond, until the god that had fought the Titans was no more, and only the devil Deadpool remained.

Oh what he’d give to remember what sunlight felt on his face, to feel the grass in his fingers, to scent a cherry blossom, to taste the sweetly sharp juice of a pomegranate fruit, to breathe in fresh air and be around the living.

But time marched on with unending steps into the suffocating dark, and Deadpool sat on his throne with nothing more than Pain and Panic to keep him company, his true self lost and nearly forgotten in the memories of all but a few, alone and alone and alone.

...until...

…They said the boy came into existence in the Spring, a child crafted from dew drops on a spider’s web and left lying on the flower petals for Demeter to find as she walked the fields and brought them to bloom for another season.

Peter, they called him. Demeter’s son, a child of May and the favorite of Anthony and Olympus. As he grew, he was able to bring Spring with a simple touch, banish Winter with his fingers and create entire forests bursting with life, the planet itself sparking at the sound of his voice.

They said he was lovely and sassy with eyes that tinted gold in the sunshine and fingers that lit green with the color of life, they said his laugh sounded like bells, and Deadpool could not imagine such a beauty.

The only colors he saw anymore were black, blue and gray and the only bells he heard were death tolls and after an eternity alone in the beneath, Deadpool was desperate for something --anything-- beautiful.

“He brings life with just a touch.” Deadpool muttered to himself, staring at the barren trees lining the way to his throne. Their trunks were twisted and bark as marred as his skin, the branches reaching towards a dark sky with not a leaf or bud to be seen and for just a moment, for just a moment he wondered, “If I could see something bloom one more time, perhaps the madness won’t take me. If I can see something live, perhaps the darkness won’t-- won't crush me.”

And Pain whispered, “You cannot go to the surface, the sun will ruin you.” and Panic insisted, “The boy will be too frightened of you and refuse to help.”

Pain warned, “Death and life cannot coexist, the Fates won’t allow it.” and Panic shrieked, “You will bring the wrath of the gods with your selfishness!”

But Deadpool didn’t care.

What did he have to lose, what could the other gods to to him for punishment? Toss him in a pit, hurt him, banish him from the light?

He had nothing to lose and everything to gain, even it was just for a moment, a second, a breath--

He had nothing to lose.

****************

“Peter!” May had shed the name Demeter centuries ago, preferring the name the humans chose as they worshiped her the change of seasons and the fertility she brought to their lands. “Peter, child where are you!”

“May!” Peter burst from beneath the surface of the lake, shaking the water from his hair and laughing out loud over May’s startled surprise. “Look how beautiful.” he held out his palm to show off an exquisitely crafted flower with delicate petals. “I created this for the water nymphs. I think I’ll make them in a thousand different colors and call them nymphaea-- water lilies. Aren’t they lovely?”

“Are you creating flowers to please yet another lover?” May raised her eyebrows and Peter wrinkled his nose in a teasing smile. “Some day one of your many consorts will demand your loyalty, and then what will you do? What happens when you find the one meant to be your eternal love, when the Fates wind your strand with another in an unbreakable bond? You cannot continue frolicking with a different companion every night.”

“Anthony does.” Peter pointed out. “He has found the one meant to be his for all eternity and yet he has a hundred lovers.”

May rolled her eyes. “Do not strive to live your life like Anthony, my love. He has an eternal partner and a hundred lovers and a thousand children. He is irresponsible and wild and a thousand years has not changed that. If the humans had any idea how petty and reckless the god of Olympus was, they would not build him temples and praise his lightning.”

“If the humans knew how petty the gods were, they wouldn’t worship any of us.” Peter laughed, and at his side the flowers colored brighter as nature reacted to the sound of his joy. “But I do not scatter children across the Earth or send my lovers into fits of jealousy where one or the other ends up cursed to be cows or peacocks!”

May begrudgingly agreed and Peter continued, “When I spend the night with a companion, flowers bloom and the trees bear fruit. I am a creator god, and my pleasure brings life, whether I find it with one partner or many. Surely there is nothing wrong with that.”

“Surely not.” May allowed and dropped a kiss on her child’s forehead. “But you will change your mind when the Fates bring you your eternal love. Go on creating your water lilies for now, but don’t wander far. The Earth feels restless today and I’m not sure why. Guard yourself carefully.”

“I’m fine.” Peter waved off her worries and dove back beneath the surface to design another lily, this one with brilliant purple flowers and leaves that stretched further than his reach, humming a quiet song and losing himself in the wonder of creation for longer than he realized.

It was May who felt the change first, who felt the earth shift and open, felt Nature recoil as something that did not belong rushed to the surface. There was a flash of light and a roll of shadows, the sound of horses thundering and chariots crashing, and May saw just the glimpse of Peter’s curls and the wild grasp of his hand as he scrambled for a hold, but it was too late.

Disfigured arms reached out to snatch the boy away from the land and drag him down into the beneath and when May screamed for her child, the fields beneath her feet went black with the force of her emotions.

“Peter!” the goddess went running for the chasm, but it closed too quickly and May fell to her knees to dig at the Earth. “Peter!” Clouds filled thick and heavy across the sky, blanketing the sun and wiping out the light and May’s tears brought snow to the dying grass.

Even the Fates themselves paused in their weaving when the goddess dug her fingers into the dirt, her eyes opening the color of raging wildfire, sparking and furious.

“Give me back my child!” May screamed, and when she clenched her fists into the ground, black vines shot from her palms and crawled up the trunk of the nearest tree, strangling the life from it and leaving it barren within a few seconds. “PETER!”

The dead tree burst into flame, the fields scorching in a path straight to where Peter had been swimming and turning the water to mist and the gods in Olympus froze when the atmosphere seemed to catch fire.

“PETER!”

*****************

Peter didn’t scream when he was snatched from the water, nor did he cry out in surprise when he was unceremoniously dumped onto cold, rough rock and abruptly abandoned, the steel like pressure of arms at his waist falling away with the sound of footsteps and what sounded like whispers.

He took a moment to orient himself, absentmindedly pulling the length of his chiton up from his waist and looping it over one shoulder so he wasn’t dripping wet and half bared to whichever eyes were watching. Then he cocked his head at the empty trees, at the hedge bushes that were nothing more than spindly branches. The river ran slow and sluggish, the air tasted stale and heavy and when Peter turned his palms over and tried to call his power, it came like syrup through his veins until it finally glowed faint green on his skin.

A noise like the skitter of claws on rock, whispers abruptly silenced by a near snarl, and Peter finally lifted his eyes to the raised dais to his left, up rough hewn stairs to a massive throne, and to the figure sprawled in the seat, and when the man on the throne shifted forward and leaned into the watery light, Peter’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“Oh.” he breathed. “Oh, I know who you are.”

“I would hope so, there aren’t many faces like mine around.” A lifetime in the Underworld had turned Deadpool’s voice caustic, the words biting and nearly sneered. On someone else, the answer might have been sarcastic and quippy but from Deadpool it only sounded bitter. “Tell me, do they still call me Deadpool on the surface, or has my name evolved into something more human friendly? I hear they call Anthony Zeus these days. Zeus. Ridiculous.”

“The humans call you Hades.” Peter kept staring, his eyes brightening in interest and a smile curving his lips. “They think you and the realm you rule are one and the same, Hades and Hell, but on Olympus they still call you Deadpool. I’ve heard stories about you, you know.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Deadpool twitched uncomfortably beneath the boy’s perusal. “Am I still the horror stories told around campfires? The one the humans claim make them do horrible things? The Devil?”

“Oh no, I haven’t heard anything like that.” Peter either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the scorn nearly dripping from Deadpool’s words. “No, I meant I’ve heard the stories of how you fought the giants, how you drove the Titan’s back, and why you were sent here. You’re considered a hero, do you know? They have statues of you in Olympus.”

A hero? “...I see.” Deadpool said slowly, but it was obvious he didn’t see at all.

“Besides, I don’t care what the humans say.” Peter laughed softly and out of the corner of his eye, Deadpool could have sworn he saw the river lighten for a split second. “They know nothing and pretend they know it all. Silly things. I don’t know why Anthony loves them so much.”

“No doubt because they are naive enough to think we gods aren’t every bit as awful as humanity.” Deadpool tried not to cringe when Peter’s eyes found his again, the dark brown swirling gold as that interested smile stretched even wider, a plush bottom lip caught between Peter’s teeth as he tipped his head and simply stared.

Deadpool tried not to cringe but it had been a long time since anything other than the eyes of the dead had looked at him and now May’s child, a creator god, an embodiment of life was standing in the realm of death, face to face with the one who hoarded the souls of the deceased.

Deadpool didn’t want to cringe but the sun had hurt him even for the few seconds he’d been on the surface and the fresh air had stung his skin and he couldn’t stand to be so hideous in the face of such beauty.

And Peter was beauty. Even wearing only a simple chiton with hair still drying into thick waves, even with a nearly painful curiosity in the golden eyes and with eerie, otherworldly green lighting the tips of his fingers, Peter was beauty alive and Deadpool was horror unending and it hurt.

“What are you staring at!” He suddenly snarled, angry that he was so affected by the boy, almost furious that this-- this Adonis could be so blase about the moment, could be laughing and looking as if nothing was wrong. “Do not stare at me!”

“I’m sorry.” Peter startled from his focus and held up his hands peacefully. “I’m sorry, but I’ve heard so many stories of you and never once did they mention how handsome you are. I expected the Deadpool to be a monster, not--” he made a vague gesture. “I suppose I should be terrified, but I’ve never been scared of anything in my life and certainly not of a man who looks like you.”

“I am no man.” Deadpool’s heart startled when Peter’s nose scrunched in delight like he thought Deadpool were teasing. “You- you would be wise to fear me, child.”

“Child.” Peter rolled his eyes and huffed as if annoyed. “How old must I be before I am no longer a child to you ancient gods! I have seen over two hundred summers already, and they still call me--”

“They say you can create life with nothing more than a touch.” Deadpool interrupted, pushing down the shiver of wonder that Peter hadn’t recoiled from him like the other gods did, that he had called him handsome. It wouldn’t do any good to bask in the warmth that flowed from the creator god, nor to linger in the way Peter made Deadpool feel inexplicably whole.

He wanted one thing from the beauty-- “Lies.” Panic hissed. “You want everything from him!” -- and then he would let the god go.

“You will make something grow and then I will let you leave.” He said quickly. “Bring something to bloom and you’ll have my permission to leave.”

“That’s it?” Peter looked over his shoulder to peer at the river and then twisted to the other side to look at the hedges. “You went through all the trouble of kidnapping me just so I would make something grow?”

“I--” Deadpool blinked a few times. “Yes. That’s it. You will make something grow, and then you are allowed to leave my realm.” Peter waited, and Deadpool hesitated before adding, “Why else would I kidnap you?”

“Because I’m beautiful!” Peter laughed as if it made perfect sense. “I assumed you wanted my company, not my creator power! Being kidnapped for a moment with a lover would be so much more fun than simply growing things, don’t you think?”

“You--” No, he cannot be serious. “You thought I kidnapped you because I wanted--wanted a rendezvous? You thought I snatched you from the surface because I wanted to see beneath your robes?” Deadpool laughed but it was an ugly sound. “You’re joking.”

“Why would I be joking?” Peter asked frankly. “You are very handsome and I’m a creator god, I’m gorgeous. I assumed you could not join me in the sunshine so you brought me here instead.”

“And you’re alright with that?” Deadpool asked incredulously. “Are you standards for your lovers so low?”

“Well, it’s not the most traditional proposition I’ve ever received.” Peter winked and Deadpool swore felt it to his soul. “But I can assure you, it would not take much convincing to bring me around.”

“I feel as if I’m missing an opportunity here, but I didn’t bring you here for that.” Deadpool slumped back into his throne and pulled his hood over his face.

For a moment he’d almost wanted to laugh but his reality was far too harsh for something so lighthearted. No matter how teasing and flirty Peter was, everything would change if he saw Deadpool’s face in the light, and the god would rather Peter make something bloom and be gone than risk the humiliation of having the beauty look on him with pity, or worse, recoil in horror.

“Make something grow and be gone.” He said hoarsely. “Please.”

“I’ll have to have your permission to leave, won’t I?” Peter knelt and swept his fingers over the soil curiously, bringing a few bits to his tongue to taste the acidity “Not even the gods on Olympus can pass through your realm alone, much less a lesser god like me.”

“That’s correct--”

“Oh!” Peter jumped up again, eyes wide. “Could I see Cerebus? You brought me down through a split in the earth so we didn’t come to the gates! Could I see them before I go?”

“...you want to see Cerebus?” Deadpool asked in confusion. “Child, you should be--”

“My name is Peter.” he interrupted. “May calls me child and so does Anthony but I not near as innocent nor half as guileless as they want to believe. if you and I are to be friends, you should call me Peter.”

“Friends.” Hope bloomed before Deadpool could squash it, an eternity of loneliness sparking with anticipation for just a second before it was gone. “And-- and why would you think we are friends?”

“Well we aren’t lovers yet, but we certainly aren’t strangers anymore.” Peter winked again and Deadpool had to call his power to physically quell the reaction the pretty brunette brought around in him. “Friends seems appropriate for now, don’t you think?”

All creator gods were like this, Deadpool reminded himself. They were always half drunk on too much oxygen and herbal aphrodisiacs, sweetly flower scented and warmed from the sun. The act of making life moved so easily towards making love that gods like Peter, like could hardly help the way they were drawn to others and others were drawn to them.

But Deadpool was hideous, twisted and deformed, scarred and ruined and Peter should not be staring, much less winking and flirting--

“You will make something grow.” he said again, ignoring the pull in what was left of his soul, ignoring the way he nearly itched to be closer to Peter and bask in the glow of life. It didn’t mean anything, it was just the thrum of a creator god, Peter’s power twisting in the air and creating a connection between them that wasn’t truly there. It didn’t mean anything. “I don’t care if it’s simply grass or a single bloom. Make it grow, then you will be free to--”

“--see Cerebus?” Peter finished, and flattened his palms to the trunk of the barren tree. “Yes, I very much want to see your pet.”

“They aren’t my pet, they are a beast to guard the gates to this realm.” Deadpool argued and when Peter scrunched his nose again in obvious disagreement, Deadpool chuckled and said, “Pete, I’m not going to let you waltz over and pet Cerebus’s nose.”

“You called me Pete.” Peter’s eyes lit golden in approval as his magic ran through his body and out through his hands. “See? You already like me!”

Deadpool scowled but it wasn’t in anger. He had called the creator god Pete, had slipped through with a nickname without even realizing, had laughed a little bit without any effort at all. It was the power of life, of creation that was so unexpected in this realm and that was why he had let his guard down.

It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean anything, it didn’t mean anything.

“Come to me.” Peter’s voice was soft and sweet then, nearly a croon and practically a purr and Deadpool’s head snapped up, his body jolting forward as if he’d been physically yanked by it, his eyes going helplessly to where Peter had pressed his forehead to the bark of the tree and was whispering, “Eláte, ómorfo, come here beautiful, grow for me. Grow.”

Deadpool held his breath and in the silence that followed, Panic slithered to his ear and hissed, “Nothing grows here, not in the underworld. Death and life cannot coexist.”

He didn’t want to listen, he didn’t want to listen, but Panic’s words were terribly prophetic as Peter leaned away from the tree and stared down at his palms in confusion.

“It didn’t work?” Peter sounded entirely mystified. “I can’t believe-- why didn’t it--” he called his power again and this time his palms lit with a dark, vibrant green that made the very air seem to spark around them and Deadpool held his breath---

--nothing.

“Hm.” Peter clicked his tongue and shrugged. “Perhaps I need time to adjust to this realm. Come on, shall we explore?” He held out his hand to Deadpool and waited with an expectant smile.

“...what are you doing?” Deadpool asked slowly, inching backwards in his throne until he was nearly plastered to the back rest, his breath coming hard and uneven, fingers digging furrows into the rock as every cell in his body screamed to go to Peter and Pain and Panic screamed for him to stay put.

“I can’t very well wander here alone.” Peter said, as if that were a perfectly valid reason for Deadpool to take his hand and escort him through the Underworld. “Usually when I wander I lay a trail of flowers behind me so I don’t get lost but until my power sparks again, that isn’t an option. How else will I find my way around?”

“You’ve been to Olympus.” Deadpool’s fingers bled where they scraped stone to keep himself from running to Peter. “The place is a mirrored copy of the mountain top. Don’t you recognize the throne room?”

Peter’s brow furrowed, his features pinching as he looked around the cavernous space, then his expression cleared in understanding. “Ah. It’s Olympus but without the glitter and gold, without the flowers and flowing fountains. Still a domain of the gods, but--”

“--but dark.” Deadpool finished, and then with a grimace and far more vulnerability than he intended, “Ugly. There is no beauty here.”

Creator gods were drawn to beauty, drawn to life and laughter and it didn’t make any sense for Peter to be smiling that way at Deadpool or for his eyes to be lit quite so warm as he replied, “Humility among the gods is as rare as an eclipse, who knew I’d find it here in the Underworld? What could you possibly mean, no beauty here?”

It would have been easy to discount Peter’s words as kindness, his flirting only flattery for a captor. It was easy to think the beauty talked of propositions as if they were already lovers because creator gods were lovers to almost everyone. But Panic was snarling lies into his ear and suddenly-- suddenly Deadpool had to know, he had to know--

“Pete.” There was the nickname again, easy and natural as if they’d known each other for centuries, as if they were friends and it felt so right, Deadpool couldn’t believe it. “Pete?”

“Yes?” Peter’s chiton had slipped down his shoulder again, baring sun bronzed skin glittered with gold and Deadpool couldn’t tear his eyes away. “What is it?”

“Why--why---” Deadpool wet his lips anxiously. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be nervous, to be unsure. He’d been angry for so long, and after he was angry he was cold and then he’d become numb and he’d forgotten everything else. “....why don’t you flinch from me?”

Peter’s red lips parted, one slim shoulder lifting in a half shrug. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“...because you are beautiful.” Deadpool didn’t mean to be honest, he didn’t mean to even be kind but something about Peter soothed his edges, calmed the anger in his soul and even just these few moments in the creator god’s presence had tempered the furious whisperings of Pain and Panic at his side.

Deadpool didn’t understand, but he was grateful all the same. “I took you because you are beautiful.”

“I think our answers are the same.” Peter held out his hand again and that damnable hope bloomed in Deadpool’s chest again. “Now then. You’ll walk with me around this place? Mirror of Olympus or not, I am hopelessly lost without my plants to guide me, and the last thing you’d want is someone like me wandering your realm. Imagine the chaos if I found Cerebus and tried riding them through your Kingdom.”

“Cerebus would never let you ride them.” Deadpool stated, fighting a smile, fighting the growing anticipation that perhaps his eons of loneliness could be drawing to a close. Peter wasn’t flinching from him, wasn’t running away, wasn’t acting as if he desperately wanted to leave. It was more than Deadpool could have ever hoped for after everything and maybe--just maybe the Fates had decided to grant him just a bit of happiness.

But still, he tried to temper his smile as he said, “Cerebus is vicious, Pete. They are more likely to bite your hand than allow you to pet them.”

Peter had no such qualms about hiding his smiles, and the room lit with his brilliance as he returned, “Are you sure? I’ve never met a dog I didn’t love.”

“You should be in a hurry to leave this place, you know.” Deadpool finally peeled himself off the throne and came down the steps, close but not too close to Peter, letting his his sleeves fall over his hands to hide the scars. “Not trying to adopt the guardian of the Underworld.”

“And you should be in a hurry to make me leave.” Peter countered, tipping his head back and back to meet Deadpool’s eyes, his hair falling loose and curled around his face. “Not standing here being so tall and tempting me to try and climb you like a tree.”

“Climb me like a--” Deadpool shouted with unexpected laughter. “Pete--!”

“Come on!” Peter laughed too, reached for Deadpool’s hand and clasped their fingers together, humming when the god shivered at the gentle touch. “Show me your world.”

****************

Deadpool did not let go of Peter’s hand as they walked, even as the creator god dusted his fingers across various plants and tried to spark something green. Every once in a while there was a flash, sometimes even a burst of color but it never stayed and when it inevitably faded, Peter only shrugged and moved on.

And Deadpool didn’t let go of his hand, not sure if he even could at this point. The energy that rolled through Peter’s body was almost intoxicating, electrifying and Deadpool felt as if his fingers were nearly fused to the other god’s, woven together and unable to separate.

Before the beginning, creator gods were hidden away and protected from the Titans and the giants and Deadpool had only heard of them in theory, in passing, in whispers from the more lecherous of the gods as they talked about aphrodisia that hovered above sun warmed skin, lips stained red from berries and kisses.

He’d never been this close to a creator god, had never touched one, had never had one turn and offer him a smile or tease and flirt, or stare at him as if he gorgeous instead of cringe away as if he were hideous.

It was unbelievable and almost too good to be true, and when they stopped at the banks of the river and Peter knelt to peer curiously into the water, it was then that Deadpool caught sight of his own reflection and realized that it was too good to be true.

All the time he had been in the Underworld, Deadpool had never sought his own reflection. It was telling enough that the newly arrived souls shuddered in horror when they saw him, that even Charon would not meet his eyes, that Cerebus whined and ducked their heads when he approached.

Deadpool could see the scars on his hands and could feel the itch of pain on his face and didn’t need a reflection to tell him he was ruined.

Anthony had promised the Underworld would heal him, and as Deadpool stared down at the reflection of clear skin and nearly blonde hair, he suddenly understood why Peter hadn’t cringed away.

Too good to be true.

The creator god was drawn to beauty and somehow this realm allowed Deadpool to look how he did before the war, when he’d rivaled Anthony and Steven in looks and the goddesses and nymphs had fought over who would lie in his bed each night.

Peter didn’t see him, he saw the glamour the Underworld had afforded him and that was all it was, that was the basis for the attraction that flowed thick between them and the reason Peter didn’t drop Deadpool’s hand and run away.

Too good to be true.

“How long did it take the scars to heal?” Deadpool startled from his thoughts when Peter squeezed at his hands. “The stories all say the war ruined you, ruined your body, but I can’t see it. How long did it take them to heal?”

“They haven’t healed.” Deadpool looked down at his palms, at the rough patches and raised lines that only he could see, the awfulness of it contrasting so sharply with Peter’s flawless skin. “It’s an illusion, one I didn’t realize had taken affect. This is why you didn’t scream when I grabbed you, why you are drawn to me. I’m not healed but the Underworld has given me a glamour to cover it.”

“I wouldn’t stare in horror even if you weren’t glamoured.” Peter countered and Deadpool denied, “That’s easy for you to say that when you are not seeing it.”

Something like sadness flickered through Peter’s eyes, turning the honeyed brown almost black, and he turned on his heel to press his hand to the ground and whisper to the dirt, green rippling from his palms and then fading into nothing. “Damn. Not quite. Come walk with me some more and I will try again--”

“Leave it be.” Deadpool was still staring at his own reflection, a mix of awe and revulsion making bile rise in his throat.

This was why Peter was willing to stay, this was why the creator god was letting his power spark and form a connection that felt nearly intimate. If Peter were really seeing him, the beauty would have turned tail and screamed to be returned to the surface, he wouldn’t be flirting and teasing and insisting on holding Deadpool’s hand as they wandered.

“You are stupid for hoping.” Panic whispered and Pain chimed in, “This will be another memory to hurt later on. Let him go.”

“Tell him to leave.”

“You were banished here alone, why would you think the Fates would grant you someone so beautiful as company.”

“Do you hear that?” Peter tipped his head in confusion, and shook his head. “The whispers, are they constant? Is that the--” he gestured to the river. “--the souls? Or the wind that sounds like voices or--”

“You should go.” Deadpool dropped Peter’s hand and stepped away, hunching his shoulders and turning his back. “Go on. You have my permission to leave.”

“You told me I had to make something grow before I returned home.” Peter’s eyes flickered dark again but his tone was light, expectant. “I’m not leaving until I bring something beautiful here. Something beautiful besides you, I mean.”

He was flirting again and it hurt like nails raking down Deadpool’s cheek. “You are the something beautiful.” he said hoarsely. “The only thing beautiful this world will ever know. Now go.”

“Why are you hiding from me?” Peter reached for Deadpool’s hand and frowned when the god jerked away. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

“You are being kind to me because you only see this form.” Deadpool said bitterly. “You creator gods, you are only drawn to beauty and if you saw me in my true form you would turn away from me. I thought perhaps the Fates---”

Deadpool shut up, wrenching his hand free from Peter and putting it over his mouth. “Leave. Get out. Consider this your permission to go to the surface and get out.”

“What did you say?” Peter reached for Deadpool’s hand again and matched the span of their fingers. “About the Fates?”

“I said nothing about the Fates and I told you to get out.” Deadpool couldn’t look away from their hands, the heat gone from his words and defeat evident in the slump of his shoulders. “May is no doubt unleashing some sort of awful Winter on the surface world as she searches for you, and you do not belong in this realm. Leave.”

“You don’t want me to go, and I do not want to leave.” Peter ignored everything else Deadpool said and stepped closer until they were nearly chest to chest. “What were you going to say about the Fates?”

“Only that they are cruel women to tempt me with you.” Deadpool whispered and Peter’s eyes tinted gold in understanding. “Leave before I make you stay. Please.”

“I’ll stay until I can bring something to life.” Peter said decisively. “That is what we agreed on and that is what I will do. But first you must tell me your name.”

“My name is Deadpool.” Deadpool’s emotions roiled over and his eyes flickered haunted red, the glamour fading from his skin and revealing the scars for one awful second. “Everyone knows that.”

“What was your name before you were Deadpool?” Peter lay his hands gently, so gently where the scars had shown on Deadpool’s arm and stood on his toes to make their noses bump, smiling when the other god didn’t pull away. “Who were you before? Who are you really?”

“Your name doesn’t matter.” Panic whispered, and Pain agreed, “He won’t care anyway. You will tell him and he will leave and it won’t matter.”

“Do you even remember it?”

“Are you anyone at all besides this monster?”

“My name.” Deadpool breathed out shakily. “...is Wade.”

“Wade.” Peter’s finger tips lit light green as he reached for the hood and pushed it further away from Wade’s face, drew his fingers to Wade’s temples. “Kiss me.”

“Pete--”

“Kiss me.” Peter said again and Deadpool grimaced away from him. “No, no I know what you’re going to say about how creator gods want to kiss everything, how we make love as easily as we make life, but this is different. Please. Kiss me.”

“I don’t think--”

“Just one.” Peter’s touch was soft and so so warm and Wade could have fallen apart beneath it. “What will it hurt? One kiss. Please?”

He had nothing to lose and it had been so long since Wade had known anything beautiful at all, so he gave in, bent down, leaned in to press his lips to Peter’s and swallow the quiet gasp the gorgeous brunette made.

“Oh-h-h--” Peter sighed and chased the kiss, the vibrant green at his hands heating until Wade’s entire body was thrumming with energy. “Wade…”

Too long Wade had been jagged pieces and sharp edges and but as their kiss lengthened, deepened, his brittleness melted into slow, caramel languidness that began and ended with Peter’s drugging mouth, the sweet taste of Spring and the verdant suddenness of sunshine--

--and somewhere in their place between places, the Fates wove a strand of gray so dark it was nearly black with a red as ruinous as blood, and put them together with a brown that shifted gold in the light and a lush, living green.

“Interesting.” One said to the other, and the other said to a third, “We did not see this.” and the third set the strands as stone and decided, “What Fate has brought together, not even the gods will tear apart. A creator will love a guardian of souls.”

**************

*************

There was no time in the Underworld, so it might have been minutes or it might have been days, as Wade and Peter wandered hand in hand along the paths of the god’s realm. It could have been an entire season or nothing more than an hour as they shared kisses that grew more and more heated with each pass, Peter’s power flexing in the air like aphrodisia, Wade helpless against the pull and not caring to try and stop.

Some things were meant to be, some fated lines were meant to cross, and though Wade knew the surface world was no doubt paying for his selfishness, for his boldness in snatching a god of Spring and Growth, it was difficult to care when Peter was laughing and bells were ringing, when Peter was teasing and Wade was whole.

It could have been a hundred years for all the time between them lasted, a million steps they took in no particular direction, a thousand quiet conversations that didn’t have to mean anything at all.

They went aimlessly through gardens every bit as grand as those in Olympus but empty, the vines brown and brittle, the ground littered with the remains of petals that had fallen before they’d even opened all the way. They explored the winding maze hat was nothing more than spindly branches and tangled hedges, paused at fountains that had never flowed, sat at benches that had never been used.

The orchards were empty and bare, the trunks twisted as if wrenched by force into horrid shapes and though animal eyes peered from behind walls and out of darkness, the shapes that separated from the shadows weren’t quite right, not quite normal, and Peter pressed a little closer to Wade as they passed.

The only creature Peter didn’t shy away from was Cerebus, in fact the creator god greeted the beast with wide smiles and awed exclamations and Wade didn’t know whether to smile or to curse when the three headed monster huffed at Peter’s clothing and then simply fell at the god’s feet and blinked up at him in adoration.

“Oh you beauty.” Peter crooned, getting right down on the ground next to Cerebus and patting at each head in turn. “What a lovely creature. There is nothing like you on the surface, nothing at all, you are magnificent.”

“He is a monster.” Wade disagreed and Peter scowled at him-- or gave the closest approximation to a scowl he could manage when he was flushed pink in happiness and laughing out loud as massive teeth closed whisper soft over his wrist as Cerebus demanded more attention.

“Just because he is different doesn’t mean he is a monster.” Peter denied and pushed his face into one of Cerebus’s foreheads. “There is beauty found everywhere, if only people would look.”

Wade felt the approval and acceptance from the creator god as healing balm on his skin and once Peter had murmured at least a hundred praises of ‘good dog’ and relinquished his hold on Cerebus, he pulled Peter back up into his arms and buried his face in the curve of Peter’s neck.

“Alright?” Peter asked softly, holding Wade just as tight for just as long. “Are you ever so devastated that I’e ruined the guardian of the gates?”

“I’m sure he’s perfectly worthless.” Wade said dryly and when Peter laughed, he tipped the brunette’s chin up for a long kiss. “Walk with me, Pete.”

“I’m right here.” Peter scrunched his nose and kissed Wade right back. “You’re the one not doing the walking, oh god of the Underworld.”

Wade laughed which was-- well it was surprising all on it’s own, and tugged Peter further down the path, ignoring Cerebus’ whines and quiet growls at having their new friend taken away.

“May says the Fates always know where our lives are leading.” Peter said sometime-- maybe days?-- later, green sparkling everywhere he touched, there and gone again, bright and then dimming, flaring with life before succumbing to the call of death. Peter didn’t even seem to notice, his touches too casual to be purposeful, his eyes either on Wade’s face or on the creatures that flitted on the shadows. “And the harder we pull on the strings, the tighter the Fates draw them until we have no choice but to walk the path they design.”

“Are you saying I was fated to rule the Underworld?”

“Whatever you were fated for, it led to our paths crossing, even if it’s only for today and that is enough for me.” Peter yanked Wade in for a kiss that went on and on and on until the creator god was gasping and shivering and Wade was clutching at his sides with a sort of desperation he’d never thought he’d feel again.

“Peter.” he whispered, and the beauty smiled into another kiss. “Lovely, you practically bloom when we touch.”

“If we were on the surface there would be new flowers appearing every time we were together.” Peter decided and Wade left a gentle kiss on his palm. “I’d create entire forest for you, my love. Moonflowers and jasmine and night orchids. Beauty that you could enjoy without the sun hurting you. Which one is your favorite?”

“It doesn’t matter, Pete.” Wade denied but Peter insisted, “Tell me! I want to try to make something for you!”

“I--” Wade didn’t want to tell the creator god how badly it would hurt if even after all this time together-- or, the little time together perhaps. How long had it been? Had he loved Peter forever, or was it still only a few minutes?-- he didn’t want to tell Peter how badly it would hurt to love and to be loved, for it was certainly love brightening golden brown eyes, and then to see even that wasn’t enough to bring life to the Underworld, to bring beauty to this domain.

“Tell me.” Peter swept aside the folds of Wade’s robe and and pressed his hands to the god’s chest, humming and sighing when Wade leaned into the touch with a quiet moan. “Mmmm, do my hands feel good, my love? Like sunshine, isn’t it, but no pain?”

“No pain.” Wade tugged the sleeve of the chiton off Peter’s shoulder and mouthed over the glitter on the creator gods skin, reveling in the pleased sound Peter made, the way the brunette pushed tighter into his arms. “I only feel you, Pete.”

“What is your favorite thing in the entire world?” Peter pressed. “What is your favorite flower, your favorite fruit/ I want to make something bloom for you, don’t make me guess. Time between lovers should be spent learning each other but not all learning requires questions. I’d rather learn by touch, but first I want you tell me just one thing. Please?”

“...Pomegranates.” Wade could practically feel the strands linking his and Peter’s hearts and souls strengthening, weaving, settling as he admitted,“Pomegranates are my favorite and I haven’t had them since before the Titan’s fell.”

“Then that’s what I’ll make for you.” Peter decided and with one last kiss, he pulled away to crouch on the ground and rake his fingers into the dirt. “What this is between us has brought my power back to the surface, look.” he held up his hands to show Wade the brilliantly green glow. “Be still, my love. Be still and watch.”

This time Peter lifted his chiton above his knees and knelt on the ground, spread his hands wide and leaned over until his forehead touched the cold soil as well, and Wade held his breath--the Underworld held it’s breath-- in the places between places the Fates stopped in their weaving and waited--

--and Peter whispered something soft and sweet, gentle and coaxing, clicking his tongue and trilling under his breath--

--and the ground exploded with the force of life, a trunk shooting skyward and weaving together with supple limbs, leaves bursting from the tips and coloring gorgeous green, flowers unfurling in all the colors of sunrise and then fruit, ripening heavy and round and plentiful until the branches strained to hold themselves upright.

“Oh!” Peter fell back onto his heels and clapped his hands. “Oh, I did it! Wade, look!”

Wade was looking, but he wasn’t looking at the tree. He was staring at the creator god laughing in excitement, at the way Peter’s eyes were wide with wonder as if the pomegranate tree was the first thing he’d ever created, the way Peter kept glancing at him as if for approval.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” he whispered, and Peter’s cheeks flushed a surprised, pleased pink, his eyes sparkling gold. “Pete, you are the most beautiful wonder--”

“Taste.” Peter broke the first fruit in half and scooped the seeds from the inside, holding up his fingers to Wade’s mouth and gasping when the god sucked them into his mouth with a low moan. “How-how is it?”

“Peter.” Wade pushed the rest of the fruit away and crushed their mouths together, sharing the sweetness and holding Peter as tight as he could. Moonflowers and night orchids burst into bloom at their feet and Peter laughed again as his power surged between them in a blast of warm air.

Wade fell backwards onto a ground suddenly covered in thick grass and Peter landed on top of him, hands roaming and legs tangling and mouths meeting again and again and again. It could have been weeks, it could have been years while Wade remembered what it was to love and Peter proved how easy it was to learn someone with nothing more than touches and whispered yes and please and more, my love, always always more.

It could have been a hundred years lost in each other’s arms, an entire millennia while the strands of Fate wove tighter and tighter between them until Peter wasn’t sure where he left off and Wade began, where creation and life met death and end but it didn’t matter when their kisses were stained with pomegranate juice and their skin was slick with sweat and Peter was--

“Ah!” He cried out, breaking away from a drugging kiss and rolling out from beneath Wade, clutching at his head. “Ow ow ow--”

“Pete?” Wade sat up in an instant, adjusting his tunic to cover more of himself and reaching for the brunette. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I can feel um--” Peter shook his head, dazed from the sudden drop of swimming in pleasure to nearly crying from pain. “I can feel May, feel her anger-- the surface-- Winter--”

“She’s taking her pain out on the humans because she can’t punish me for taking you.” Wade realized. “She can’t see in here to know you are fine.”

“I forgot you kidnapped me.” Peter managed a laugh, and shook his head. “I’ve been so lost in you, I don’t even know how long we’ve been here, I forgot how it all started. I have to go and see her so she stops unleashing blizzards on the surface.”

“--you have to go?” Ice cold reality crashed over Wade, rocking him to his core with a rush of horror, the woven strands that tied he and Peter’s souls straining at the thought of being apart.

Peter only sighed as if the entire thing was a simple inconvenience. “I’ll come back, my love. Give me time to soothe May and right whatever the Winter has ruined above and I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“But Pete if you leave, you can’t--” Wade started to answer but Pain dug it’s claws into his calves and muttered, “Better to let him leave.” and Panic whispered, “If he knows he cannot come back, he will feel obligated to stay, then he will resent you.”

“He will hate you and wither to nothing if you make him stay.”

“Wade?” Peter held out his hand and waited for Wade with raised eyebrows. “I’ll need your help to leave, won’t I? Come on.”

Wade got to his feet and clasped at Peter’s hand, swallowing back his fear as he said, “You have my permission to leave, Pete. You don’t need anything more than that. But--but you can’t take anything with you, or you’ll be bound to this place. If you leave now, you are free but if you take anything with you, you will be forced to return.”

“You don’t have to force me to return.” Peter said with a quiet laugh, pressing at Wade’s palm and falling into step beside him. “Look at the beauty we’ve created together! I’ll come back of my own will.”

But if you leave, you won’t be allowed back in.

Wade pushed the truth of it away, pushed away the Panic at the thought of losing Peter when he’d only just found him, pushed away the Pain of facing another eternity alone. “It’s very important that you take nothing with you, Pete. Being bound to this place is not like visiting, do you understand? It’s awful, and I won’t let you do that.”

I’d rather lose you forever, then bind you here against your will.

“I understand!” Peter insisted. “But stop worrying! You are staring at me as if I’ll never--” he frowned. “Wade?”

“Pete.” Wade cupped his jaw and forced the creator god to meet his eyes. “Give me the pomegranate.”

“Wade--”

“Give it here.” he ordered again and Peter gave another one of those put out sighs before withdrawing a handful of seeds from the folds of his chiton. “Pete, if you took these with you and ate them along the way, you would have to return. You wouldn’t have a choice, and I don’t want to do that to you.”

“You think if I don’t have a choice, I’ll grow to hate you and this place.” Peter realized slowly. “You want me to come back of my own free will to prove--”

“--not to prove anything.” Wade hastened to correct him. “No Pete, not like that. But I don’t want you to hate me. Whatever this has been, whatever we have here, I want it-- I want--”

“You think I’ll leave here and never come back.” Peter whispered. “Don’t you? You’d rather give me the choice of never coming back than let me be bound here with you.”

Yes.

No.

Oh god, please please stay with me.

“I think you’ll find the sunshine and forget about the shadows.” Wade said around the lump in his throat, around the strangle of the strands of Fate as they strained to nearly breaking. “You will find your other lovers and forget about me.”

“How dare you.” For the first time since Wade had snatched him below, Peter’s eyes dimmed, the glow disappearing from his skin. “You think so little of me, after all we’ve shared?”

“You are a creator god.” The words were ash in Wade’s mouth, bitter and painful but he said them anyway, spoke over the slither and hiss of Panic and Pain. “You love whoever is beautiful at that moment and then you move on. You think I am beautiful, but the truth is, I am not and when you return to true beauty, you won’t want to come back to me. It’s your nature and I will not try to change that.”

“No!” Peter came close to Wade and shook his head. “No, you are wrong. I know you feel it, I know you can feel Fate winding through us. This is not my magic, this is not my nature, this is truth and eternal and--”

“You have my permission to go.” Heartbreak, a new voice, companion to Pain hovered over Wade’s shoulder. “But do not feel as if you owe me anything to return. You’ve done what I asked and made something grow and now you are free to leave.”

“I don’t know if I should be angry with you for assuming I will forget you, or love you for giving me the freedom to do so.” Peter’s eyes were nearly black in sadness and the grass at the base of the pomegranate tree started to wither. “Will you kiss me before I go? One more time?”

“Peter--”

“Kiss me, damn you.” Peter threw his arms around Wade’s neck and yanked him down into a fierce kiss, crushing their mouths together and biting down into Wade’s lip until he drew blood and the other god cursed, held him tighter, kissed Peter back until neither of them could even breathe.

And then Peter’s eyes swirled gold with affection and a sweet sort of satisfaction that Wade didn’t understand, the creator god’s fingertips lit green as he brushed them over Wade’s temples and down along the line of his jaw. “You taste like pomegranates, my love. A taste and a beauty I will never forget.”

“Go on.” Wade said raggedly, pushing Peter away gently but firmly. “Peter go, get out. Get out before I change my mind.”

“I’ll come back to you.” Peter promised, but Wade turned his back and shook his head, and Peter went on his way.

Lost in the gathering darkness, hiding from the sight of the Earth opening to allow Peter back to the surface, Wade didn’t see Peter leave, and when Cerebus didn’t lift his head and howl in anguish as the Earth closed above them again, Wade knew even the dog was heart broken.

But he hadn’t seen Peter kneel by Cerebus’ post and whisper, “I’ve done a wicked thing, you lovely beast. I’ll see you soon.” and he hadn’t seen Peter pause by the pomegranate tree and whisper a blessing into the flowers.

Stumbling for his throne and slumping into the gloom, Wade Deadpool saw nothing but Pain and Panic, Heartbreak and Self-Loathing writhing around his feet--

--and clawing up his legs to get to his heart.

*************

The Winter on the surface ceased as abruptly as it began, the blizzards easing and lightning calming the moment Peter stepped from the Underworld and reached out his arms for May.

“You are over reacting.” He scolded the goddess teasingly, letting his power flex and warm the frigid air, bringing flowers to bloom to make May smile. “I left to spend time with a lover and you devastate the human’s with an unending Winter! You cannot be so angry when I am reckless!”

“A lover.” May repeated in disbelief. “Peter, you were kidnapped! Taken from me! The Earth opened up and swallowed you and you-- you---” Peter raised his eyebrows and May cursed out loud. “By Olympus. Peter! You took Deadpool as a lover?”

“He’s very handsome, May.” Peter said absentmindedly, dusting his hands over the banks of snow and banishing them with a flick of his wrist. “Lonely, too. I would not wish a banishment to the Underworld on anyone, let alone someone who helped fell the Titans.”

“His body and mind could not survive the aftermath, and living in a place where time is still was the only way to save him.” May relented quietly, sadly. “There was a time when Deadpool was the most beautiful of us all, but the things he did in the war-- they ruined him, Peter. You have to be careful with this. It is in your nature to be drawn to those that need love but you have to be careful. Deadpool’s power might have eased his mind and masked his scars but that doesn't change who he is.”

“No.” Peter brought an orchard back to life with nothing more than a few words and a pulse of green from his palms, gold brightening in his eyes. “No, it doesn’t change who he is and yes, it is in my nature to want to love, but this is different, May.”

“Different.” May hesitated, her eyes narrowing. “Peter, you cannot go back and see him.”

“Of course I can.” The wind warmed around them as May’s hold on the Winter eased even further, and Peter created a pomegranate tree from nothing more than his will, coaxing it from the soil and stretching it towards the sky. “What is there to stop me?”

“My child.” May’s face fell into sadness. “Oh, you think you can go back and forth to the Underworld, but you cannot. It doesn’t matter what connection you think you forged with the Deadpool or how wonderful your months--”

“Months?”

“--you’ve been gone for almost six months.” She confirmed and Peter’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “I do not know how he fooled you for all that time, but you cannot return to him. Once the portal to the Underworld is closed, no one can come through unless it is time for their soul to pass by Cerebus and through to Charon. You will never see him again.”

“Yes.” Peter said firmly and May paled at the belief in his voice. “Yes, I will see him again. The Fates have woven us together and we will not be torn apart.”

“Peter.” May whispered. “Oh Peter, what have you done?”

Peter only touched his lips where they were stained with pomegranate juice and a remnant of Wade’s blood, and smiled.

***************

All life failed in the Underworld.

Any humanity left in the souls that came to Charon flickered and fell away before they departed the ferry, the darker souls in the deeper places writhed in an existence that was only alive enough to cause pain and the rest was nothing but death.

The grass Peter had brought to green as they kissed withered away to chaff and scattered, the flowered hedges wilted and the orchards fell to ruin until all was black and bleak and bare again.

All life failed, and as the beautiful pomegranate tree lost it's color and then it’s leaves and the fruit rotted on wasted soil, Wade let his own power fail, let it seep away like blood into the cracks of the throne room, taking his glamour along with it and leaving him scarred and twisted and in body racking pain.

Everything hurt and Wade couldn't manage the energy to will it away. Pain and Panic roamed freely, not corralled by his will any longer, and Heartbreak and Self Loathing grew content in his psyche until Wade could hardly hear over the noise in his own head.

“You sent him away.” one voice hissed, day after day after day. “It’s your own fault you’re sad now.”

“You did the right thing.” another snarled for weeks at a time. “Perhaps you have some humanity left after all, to spare the beauty an eternity of your horror.”

“You are disgusting.” Abrupt and scathing, repeating for ages and ages. “No wonder the humans tell horror stories about you.”

“They call you the devil Deadpool, perhaps you should act like it.” Encouragement to awful deeds, unrelenting in his ear.

“Stop letting the souls circle in peace, force them to pay for their sins.” Coaxing, nearly pleading, non stop for more minutes than Wade could count.

“Stop standing idly by, command this place like the damnation it is.”

“He was a creator god, you made yourself into a god of destruction. Prove it.”

“Violence. Anger. Destruction. You are so good at it. Unleash it all.”

“Burn it all to the ground.”

“Get back at Olympus for what they did to you. They wanted you when you won the war and then forgot you here below.”

“The Fate’s spun those threads and then severed them just as quickly.”

“You are meant to be a madman, meant to be cursed, why don’t you enjoy it a little.”

“Burn it all to the ground.” “You are disgusting.” “He is never coming back.” “You should have forced him to stay.” “You should have forced him to love you.” “You should have forced him--”

“NO!” Wade fell from the throne to his knees on the unforgiving stone, dragged his fingers across the surface until they bled. “No no no. Please. Please--”

So long he’d been alone with the voices and the pain and after Peter had come and gone it all seemed worse. It was so much worse, it was so much worse, he couldn’t--he couldn’t--he couldn’t--

Warmth.

Wade froze when he felt the softest ray of sunshine on his skin, the barest puff of summer wind, the lightest hint of something floral and beautiful in the air.

“....Pete?”

There it was again, warmth and sunshine, summer wind and flowers and Wade forced himself to sit up and look and there-- there on the pomegranate tree was a single bud forming on the tip of the highest branch, turning from brown to green and then unfurling into a beautiful leaf as Wade watched in shock.

And then another, joining the first, a third joining those two and as the god’s jaw fell open in disbelief, the pomegranate tree leafed out entirely until it was green and healthy and glowing.

“...what?”

It had been so long, or maybe it hadn’t been long at all, but it felt like forever since Peter had gone and yet here was life, proof of the creator god, right here in the Underworld.

“Oh.”

“Pete.”

*****************

The pomegranate tree grew at something of a regular pace, the leaves lengthening until flower buds appeared, the flowers opening into brilliant colors a while after, the first signs of fruit coming along much later after that.

And on the day the fruit was ripe, Wade stumbled from his throne and lurched towards the tree, leaving Pain and Panic, Heartbreak and Self Loathing behind as he plucked a red pomegranate from a tall branch and broke it open to stare at the ripeness within.

“Are you going to eat that without me?”

Wade’s head jerked up when he heard Peter’s voice and when he tried to speak, the words failed the first time. “P--Pete--”

“I told you I’d come back.” Peter was almost painfully beautiful, his eyes a season wiser and skin a summer more golden, the green at his finger tips swirling in the air as if he couldn’t quite contain his power. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You--” Wade glanced back down at the mouthwatering fruit then up again to Peter. “You aren’t allowed back in my realm without permission, no one passes Cerebus without my knowing. How are you here?”

“Oh my love.” Peter touched his lips gently. “I never really left. I carried a piece of you the surface and left a piece of myself here.”

“When you bit me.” Wade said numbly. “And I bled.”

“Only after we shared a pomegranate.” Peter acknowledged. “Something of me and something of you.”

“I--” Despair, not a new companion but one that had made itself so loud after Peter had gone the first time. He’s only here because he is bound to this place. “I didn’t want you to return to me because you had to, Pete.”

“I chose to stay because I wanted to.” Peter said simply, easily. “I’m not bound to this place, Wade. I’m bound to you. Willingly. My choice, not yours.”

And then with teasing smile, “I mean, you didn’t have to let me force feed you pomegranates and you could have pushed me away when I bit you. So I suppose this is sort of your choice, too.”

“My choice.” Hope, blooming unexpectedly and nearly taking Wade’s breath away and then all at once it was crushed when Self Loathing hissed, “Your scars. Your glamour is gone.”

“Oh.” Wade dropped the fruit and turned away, hiding his face. “Pete, I--”

“I thought you were going to kidnap me again.” Peter’s smile didn’t even waver as he ambled in closer to the tree, plucking a piece of fruit of his own and breaking it open, inhaling the syrupy sweet scent and smiling as he scooped the seeds free. “I even waited by the lake, sure you’d spring up and take me away.”

“You need to give me some time.” Wade mumbled, stumbling blindly up the stairs to his throne, desperate for the cover the shadows would provide. He needed a moment to gather his power, to flex his will and cover his scars and his ugliness. “Pete, please just give me a minute.”

“Wade.” The creator god might have just been light on his feet, it might have been his magic, but suddenly Peter was there right in front of Wade, pushing him back into the throne and crawling onto his lap to straddle his thighs. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I--I--” Wade had thought he’d forgotten what it meant to be terrified, but right now he was terrified as Peter brought his palms up to frame his face, fingers stroking careful lines over his cheek and jaw. “Pete--”

“I’ve missed you.” Peter leaned in and pressed their mouths together, inching closer until they were touching everywhere possible. “Mmmm, my love. Haven’t you missed me?”

“Of course I have but--”

“But?” Peter bumped their noses together, slid his hands beneath Wade’s tunic and flattened his palms to the rough skin. “But what?”

“Do you see me?” Wade caught Peter’s wrists and held him still. “Pete, do you see me? This is me, this Deadpool, the scars and the--” he swallowed. “--the demons at my feet. My glamour is--”

“Unnecessary.” Peter glanced down to the foot of the throne and then kicked out at Panic and Pain until they scattered, waved his hands at Self Loathing and Heartbreak until they slunk away and said conversationally, “I had to compromise with May, you know. She is upset I want to be here, but I promised to be on the surface for an equal part of the year so the two of will have to learn to share.”

“Share.” It felt incredible to be the recipient of Peter’s smiles again, to feel the lithe body against his own and see the open, honest, affection in the golden brown eyes. Wade was still trying to understand it all, still tempted to cringe away from the light, but Peter was smiling and touching him and pressed close as if nothing was wrong and he didn’t see anything awful even when Wade’s glamour was gone.

“Share.” Wade said again and this time he tried for a smile. “I have to share with May? I don’t share well Pete, I don’t-- don’t think that will work.”

“You ancient gods are so selfish and petty!” Peter’s laugh was clear and bright and intoxicating. “But that’s why I left the pomegranate tree behind! When the leaves fall, I’ll go back to May, and when the fruit is ripe, I will return to you. It’s balanced! Learn to share!

Wade tipped his head back onto the throne and squeezed at Peter’s waist, trying not to let his roiling emotions spill out and over. “You’ll come back to me when the fruit is ripe?”

“Like the seasons, my love.” Peter promised, and then with a thoroughly enticing wiggle, “Now then, aren’t you going to tell how happy you are to see me?”

“I uh--” Wade pressed at Peter’s waist again and the gorgeous creator god came closer, sparking his magic until the air was filled with aphrodisia and Wade’s body was surging to answer the invitation. “I just barely got Cerebus trained to be vicious again, you’re going to ruin them.”

“Oh no, not a vicious Cerebus!” Peter gasped in mock horror, then tipped his head back and whistled, and in the distance, Cerebus answered with an excited howl.

“And um, if you’re going to stay, you’ll need a throne.” Wade said next and Peter’s eyes crinkled when he grinned. “Unfortunately there isn’t room for a second one in here so...”

“So, I suppose I’ll have to sit on your lap.” Peter said solemnly. “Any other complaints, oh guardian of the Underworld?”

“I thought I’d lost you.” Wade’s voice cracked then and Peter magicked a pomegranate blossom out of thin air and into his palm, dusting the petals over Wade’s lips.

“Never, my love. Never.”

**************

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#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #hades and persephone #commission

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x-reader-breakfast · 5 years

Text

Just a Merchant || Luffy x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k A/N: Hope this is all good! Requests: OPEN

“BOAT!” Luffy yelled excitedly jumping up from his treasured seat. There was a rather small boat in the distance, tiny compared to the Going Merry. There was a wagon with a horse on it. Speaking off which, the pirate ship was approaching the boat too quickly. In a panic Luffy was waving his arms around and yelling all he could in order to get whoever’s attention. Quickly someone appeared from out of the wagon and screamed urgently trying to turn the boat around.

It took the whole crew to get the wagon, horse and person onto the ship but left the boat to drift along the ocean. Most of the crew were quick to recover and search the wagon while leaving the person to still recover from the almost death experience. Their horse came to their owner and bit on their shirt to lift them up.

“Thanks, bud.” They whispered stroking it’s snout.

“Hey! Are you okay?” The person lifted their head to see a boy with a straw hat and a curious expression. He looked like a sunflower...

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine...” You stuttered while slowly standing up with the help of your horse. “Thanks for saving me?” Honestly you were confused on whether or not to thank them as they were to ones to ram into you.

“Oi Luffy, look at this!” A man with a long nose rounded the wagon and held flyers up. “There’s a festival in the next island!” The boy quickly turned around and took a flyer in his hands and made a sound of awe and excitement. Before you knew it there was a crowd around the boy looking at the flyer. They all shouted and cheered at the thought of attending the festival.

Who were these people?

Slowly you turned your gaze up towards the sails and flag. They were decorated with a skull, cross bones and a straw hat that matched the boys.

“Of course I’m on a pirate ship.” You sighed and slouched. You were thinking of the thousands of possibilities that this encounter could end up. Most of them ended up with you dead or dying.

“Will there be meat!?” The boy ran over to you and excitedly pointed at the flyer. Hesitantly you nodded.

“Ye-yes. It’s a trades festival. Endless food and drinks as well as games. Fabrics and collectibles from around the world. Pirates are welcome- but you just need the festival token, or a merchant from that town in order to enter.” You only had their attention for the ‘food and drinks’ part but the crew seemed happy enough, lucky you.

“Wait,” The orange haired woman turned to you. “You said we need a token or merchant from the town right?” She was suddenly in your face holding your hands pleadingly. “Do you happen to have any of those?”

“I-I happen to be a merchant.” The crew cheered once more while you sat there exhausted.

It only a month to travel across the sea to your home island. But you wished it didn’t take that long. Honestly you wished to travel the sea with the Straw Hats for as long as you could.

You never thought that a single person could make you laugh as have in just that short amount of time. Yes, there were time were you laughed so much that your were crying and your stomach hurt. But this, this is different. Within the first day of being with the boisterous pirates their captain had asked you to join their crew after looking through all of your thing's - in which you declined.

You got along really well with Luffy, Usopp and Chopper with all the stories you had to share from your own little adventures as well as ones you had heard from pirates. There were a few nights were you stayed up with the trio. Luffy was the only one who stayed up the whole night with you.

Today was the final stretch to reach home so you sat on the deck making some bracelets made from loose pieces of fabric from around the world. The stupid things always ended up sold out within the first two days. Perhaps it was to do with the fact that they somehow fix relationship and friendships. You call bullshit, but your mother claims it’s all the love you put into them.

“What are you making?” Luffy squatted in front of you of you with his usual expression of curiosity. He picked up one of the bracelets to inspect it closely. “Friendship bracelets. I suppose.” You shrugged. You don’t know what they are anymore.

You noticed Luffy sat down properly and began to shuffle through your collection of bracelets and picked one out and tied it around his left wrist. He then searched through your loose fabrics and picked out a golden, blue and red fabric. When you began a new bracelet Luffy watched what you were doing and tried to copy you but struggled. After trying a couple of more times he was finally able to complete the bracelet. “(Y/N)!” Luffy presented the bracelet with full confidence to you. “It’s for you!” It didn’t seem like it would hold together for a while, but he did make it clearly with all his heart. “Thank you Luffy.” You smiled softly at him as you let him tie it around your wrist. “Even if you don’t join us, you’ll always be with me!” Luffy grinned. His statement made your heart clench and fill with guilt for not joining them. You looked down to his wrist where he put his bracelet, it contained fabrics that matched the clothes you wore most of the time.

For the rest of the day Luffy wouldn’t dare to leave you alone, he followed you around like a lost puppy wherever you went on the ship. “(Y/N), come here!” Luffy was sitting on the head of the Merry. The spot no-one else is allowed to sit. You only walked up to the head but didn’t climb it. You turned your gaze around to the crew who jumped at being caught starring and pretended doing something else.

Before you could comprehend what they were doing you found yourself being lifted up in the air and on the head of the Merry. Arms were entangle multiple times around you, a head on your shoulder and a new found hat on your head.

There was and odd romance about this. But for all you knew, you were making it up. It’s just, the sea was calm and the sun was setting behind you. There was also as sadness to it as you could see your hometown nearing, meaning the journey was ending soon.

You wanted to say something but felt Luffy’s arm tighten around you and his face press into your back. Was he pulling out all the cards he could in order to get you to join them or.... no.

After successfully docking the ship at the port the Straw Hats were quick to jump off the ship and explore the festive town eating and drinking everything in sight. All you could do was sigh, shake you head and lead your horse down off the ship to go towards your usual spot in the market square. You were able to catch up with your family with the short adventure you were able to have with the pirates.

Townsfolk came up to you to greet and catch up.�� Some familiar pirates came up to you hugging you and trading off things with you from their travels. The Straw Hats had passed by you multiple times- most of them being Zoro asking for directions. This continued for the whole of the week, it was a fantastic week but on the final night you realized something. What the hell are you going to do now.

You sat in the mostly empty wagon watching as townsfolk and travelers celebrate over nothing and everything. “Hey, (Y/N)...” Luffy was standing in front of you with a sad smile adorned on his usually ecstatic face. The rest of the Straw Hats stood there behind him with the same expression. “We’re going to get going now...” For a brief moment he seemed lost in thought We’ll wait a little while so you can get your stuff!” He ended with his usual smile and rushed off with the rest of the crew trying to catch up.

They’re waiting for you? You looked to where the ran to the dicks then looked backed into your almost empty wagon. Your eyes widened. You forgot to give them the chest. It was filled with maps, trinkets and books you collected from the week. The chest was supposed to be a ‘thank you’ gift for them.

You sighed letting your head hang for a moment. Then you jumped up to sit in the front of the wagon. “Let’s go home and quickly get back to the docks!” You shouted. Your horse ran as fast as he could to get you home. “Oh (Y/N) is everything alright?” You mum asked as you ran inside grabbing the largest bag and ran back outside to put pretty much all the rest of your products in. “(Y/N)!” Your mum shouted again. “Love you mum!” You kissed her cheek bidding her goodbye. “What are you doing?” She clambered onto the wagon at the same time as you did. She yelped when your horse sped off for the last time towards the docks.

The Straw Hats were just about to set sail when chopper noticed your wagon approaching. “(Y/N)!” He cheered happily which alerted the crew to get to side with him. “(Y/N)!” The rest of them cheered, Luffy more-so with his huge ear to ear grin.

You came to a quick stopped lugging your stuff out of the wagon. “(Y/N), wait!” Your mum shouted grabbing your wrist. She sighed looked between you and the pirates. “Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly. You knew she wanted the best for you and let you do what you want. But she still worried. “Let’s go!” Luffy shouted for the whole town to hear. “I’m not going to be ‘just a merchant’ anymore.” You said giddy. But your mum just gave you a serious expression. “The whole world is going to be after you.” But all you did was laugh giving a final hug.

Rubber arms wrapped around your waist and then your body flung back onto the ship. Your bags flew across the deck while your body was being intertwined with devil fruit user as he laughed as boisterous as ever all while nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “Let’s go!!”

#luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece x reader

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years

Text

Tapetum Lucidum Part Two

You thought I was done? Well think again because the amazing @minchen0897 has inspired me to pick up a pen and write some cp9 with glow eyes. (I will post the asks after this fghjdska)

Anyway, assume this is in an alternate universe where Kaku and Kalifa ate their devil fruits prior to the Water 7 mission.

Enjoy!!! Ao3

Iceburg stared at the man in front of him, wondering what beyond the obvious was off-putting about him.

There was the pigeon on his shoulder of course, and his penchant for only speaking through that pigeon, but Iceburg had weirder than that on his team of master shipbuilders. His goatee was in a strange design and his silent stare put him off but…

There was remarkable skill in the boat that Lucci had made.

“You’re hired. I’ll get a team to show you around.” Iceburg turned and picked his nose, wondering belatedly if this man could be the World Government’s new watchful eye.

Nah.

Too obvious – a pigeon, really?

“Thank you!” The pigeon – or, Lucci rather, speaks, the man’s face himself remaining entirely impassive.

“Hmm. Well, Yes, yes… Paulie! Show Lucci here around!” He gestures with his hand absentmindedly. “Mm. I need to get a secretary.”

“Sure, Boss – Say Lucci, right? You got any cash to spare?”

Lucci nods to Iceburg on his way out, not saying anything, but he is unsettling non-the-less. Iceburg is sure he can get used to it however.

A light flashes in the corner from the sun, reflecting off the metal and shining directly at Lucci as he exits the door.

Ah. That’s what it was, Iceburg discovers as he realizes what put him off so about the man. Devil Fruit Powers.

You can’t mistake the shine in those eyes after all.

“I’m here to be your secretary sir.”

“What.”

The woman before Iceburg pushes up her glasses again, with an almost imperious manner. “I said, I am here to be your secretary sir.”

“I-“

“I heard you needed a secretary, so I stepped up to the plate. My name is Kalifa sir, it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Well, its not like he didn’t need one.

“I guess… We can discuss payment inside?” He gestures to his office, albeit confusedly.

“No need sir.” The woman, Kalifa he supposes, says again with that imperious manner. “I have it already written down, and you have to get to a press meeting in twenty minutes. The Yagaba is waiting.”

Okay then.

(Is it just him, or is there something off about this woman as well? Could she be the World Governments eyes on him?

She’s certainly upsetting enough.)

Two weeks later, and Iceburg’s walking to get a midnight snack when someone passes through the doorway in front of him. He’s been weary ever since Kalifa came, and stiffens with the thought that this could be an attempt on the blue prints.

He peers into the kitchen, and is met by the sight of two, shining orbs, standing ominously in the middle of the kitchen.

“Wha-“

Theres a familiar gesture in the shadows, of someone pushes their glass up, and the orbs are no more.

He turns on the light.

“Kalifa?”

“Apologies for startling you sir, your schedule had a midnight snack in it, I’d thought I’d be ready.” She puts down the plate of cookies in her hand, steaming hot from being freshly Reheated.

“Ah. Thank you.”

Another devil fruit user. He should stop being surprised at this rate – this is the Grand Line after all.

Anything can happen.

“You’re welcome sir.”

Blueno the barman is a devil fruit user, this Iceburg notes immediately as he walks into the bar. His eyes flash unsubtly in the dim light of the bar, and every swish of the head attracts Iceburg’s eyes to him.

Granny Kokoro, next to him and with a message from Franky, sees it to.

“Another one aye? I was told one of your foremen had eyes like flashlights.”

“Mm,” He responds, taking a sip of his drink, “That would be Lucci. My secretary is the same. I don’t know what fruits however, and it would be rude to pry.”

Kokoro slaps Iceburg on the back. “Ha! Since when has that stopped you?”

Blueno is watching him closely, though Iceburg is sure, devil fruits barred, that he can’t hear them from the cacophony Franky’s thugs are making in the corner, in order to hush out the information Kokoro has.

Still.

(A spy? No, there were too many missed opportunities at this point.)

“I don’t suppose it has.” He answers her, looking to move the conversation on. “Now what were you saying about. Franky’s message?”

“Ah!” She chugs back her drink. “He says that if you keep on building on the south side he’s going to raid your mansion.”

Iceburg snorts, and all is well.

“He can dream, the idiot.”

“My dream is to be a shipwright, whippersnapper! So hire me please! I’m a ship mechanic!”

Iceburg blinks and blinks again at the man who quite literally jumped into his office. At least this one for sure can’t be a spy, because what kind of spy jumps across an entire city for a job interview?

“Sure.” He says, not really caring, Kalifa would have stopped him by now if he was a bad choice for a hire.

“You won’t regret this!” The man – had he even introduced himself yet? – shakes his hand rapidly.

“Of course,” he says in turn, and that’s the end of it.

The next week comes with a flurry of rumors about lights that flash in the sky, around the same time of Kaku’s rooftop runs.

Orbs that glance down and glimmer in the low lights, that hover ominously before free falling down abandoned building sides, and the odd elongated proportions that appear with it.

Iceburg, when the rumors reach his own ears, puts his head down and sighs.

He should have known.

Five years later, he should have ignored their devil fruit powers and gone with the instinct that the World Government has some godawful spies that bullshitted their way into (almost) succeeding.

He sighs in a manner oddly similar to a sigh five years ago.

At least there will be no more lights in the sky.

“BOSS!” Paulie slams open the door, familiar pirate in tow. “LOOK WHAT THE STRAW KID’S EYES CAN DO!”

Iceburg retracts his former statement.

Oh well. This is the Grand Line after all.

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starswallowingsea · 4 years

Text

Skyjacks and One Piece could exist in the same world

I made a post a few weeks ago about how Campaign Skyjacks and One Piece could exist in the same universe and I finally typed out my ideas. I’ll probably update this as I get more of them but this is also just a work in progress!

---

Okay so for people who don’t know, there’s islands in the sky in the One Piece universe that have been visited by the Straw Hats canonically

And also in Skyjacks, people used to sail the seas and then shit happened and now everybody is an airiner or however it’s spelled bc the wiki pages for campaign aint shit

SO ANYWAY in this theory, the events of One Piece would happen long before the events of Skyjacks because mostly everyone in One Piece is still on the physical earth in-universe

And once Luffy reaches Laugh Tale (because, let’s be real, he’s gonna do it there’s no way he’d get this far and NOT do it) word spreads about where he went on his journey and the parallels between his and Roger’s last journey

And people who have met Luffy and co or who have heard about them because they live in a place they visited want to go visit some of these other islands that Luffy went to and the most popular is Skypiea bc why wouldn’t you want to go see a sky island

And the Skypieans aren’t happy about this at first because hOLY SHIT THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE and they like keeping to themselves lest another Enel type incident happens or people disrespect the Upper Yard or any other part of their culture which is completely reasonable

But people sneak in anyways because we all know everybody would be curious about it and the poneglyph that’s up there that Roger Oden wrote on so in the end, Skypiea opens up but there’s a lot of restrictions on what tourists can do there and only some of it is actually enforced

And as time passes, people begin to think that stuff from the Golden Age of Piracy was just a bunch of stories and that it was all exaggerated and turned into fairy tales or myths or smth like that. Pop culture stories

So a lot of time has passed and there’s been conflict between the blue sea and the white sea/the earth and the sky and a bunch of people end up moving to the sky to escape most of the conflict because people from the blue sea don’t like to fight up in the sky where the atmosphere is thin

And then because people will be people, there’s a bunch of new people in the skies who want to become pirates and become like Luffy and some even wear fake straw hats (that also begs the question of if Luffy will choose someone to succeed him and pass on his straw hat like Roger and Shanks did or not but that’s neither here nor there right now)

The stories told about the Straw Hats are fairly accurate but nobody believes them because now almost everyone who would have known him would be dead so there’s no way to verify them, but it’s a fantastic story so of course it lives on

And then our Skyjacks characters show up! Jonnit would probably be the most in to the stories because of how fantastical they are and it’s what he grew up hearing from his family and playing with his sister

Also the signature wings that Sky People had in One Piece become not as common but you’ll still see people with them around. It’s a recessive trait but because everybody in Skypiea had it, you wouldn’t have been able to tell

So obviously when all these people who don’t have wings show up the gene pool gets a huge new set of input

Same with their hair growing into antennae, but that’s also more of a stylistic choice for some than others

Somewhere on the ship there’s a copy of the Straw Hat tales that someone published, but it was under an anonymous name so nobody knows who wrote it (Robin did)

Also wrt the Church of the Slain God, Urogue was one of the earlier monks for it, although that’s before the God worshipped became “dead” and came after people

Gable probably wandered around Skypiea at some point since they are so old, and actually might have been in Sky Island when the Straw Hats and/or Roger was there and met both of them, although they don’t dare say anything like that now

They also kept track of Luffy’s journey when they realized it was taking a similar/the same course as Roger’s, although, again, they don’t tell anyone that they know this because they were alive at the time

Travis’ race of changelings probably originally came from Earth and some of them would have migrated to the skies at some point

And since giants, fishmen, mermaids, and the long arm/leg/neck tribes all exist canonically in the world of One Piece, changelings aren’t that much of a stretch

Travis is also Really Old, and probably ran into the Straw Hats as well, in bars where he would challenge them to games of Illimat under different names each time

Also tried to steal Nami’s watch once and she destroyed him and he learned his lesson for about 20 minutes

He also doesn’t talk about how he personally knew the Straw Hats because it would put him in a lot of danger

Dref? He doesn’t believe in the stories and passes them off as bullshit kid’s tales and doesn’t expand on that

Secretly? He wishes he had a Devil Fruit like Brook’s to bring Orimar back to life and not have to hope the magic he’s been using keeps up

Also Devil Fruits, iirc, aren’t super common in the sky so they’ve also become stuff of legends to the new sky citizens. It’s rare for someone to have a devil fruit power in the sky now

And without water to take away their powers, those who do have Devil Fruits might not realize that water is the common weakness they all share since they don’t encounter it that often

Other small things from the Straw Hats made it into the pirate crew like snipers having sun related symbols to “honor Sogeking” and have Usopp’s god-like accuracy on everything

Okay I think that’s all I have for tonight but that’s a lot of words dang. Feel free to add your own things to this too!

#one piece #opspoilers #opmeta #skyjacks #campaign podcast #i think this qualifies as opmeta?#also was supposed to be in bullet points but hhh tumblr screwed w the formatting #i highly recommend both one piece and skyjacks to people who are fans of one of them btw #skyjacks is a great podcast but also im only on like. episode 25 i think?#okay anyway here it is feel free to add more!#shay speaks

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gildedmuse · 9 months

Text

This is me calling Law out.

He is purposefully making his moves look sexy as possible, and that's the kind of bullshit we need to be calling out.

#I have this theory about Law awakening his devil's fruit while on his ship with Zoro #the fact that one of his moves involves slowly running his hand down a phallic - err #slowly running his hand down a SWORD doesn't help #this post was totally just about swords #COULD that move be used in fanfic sexy times?#I hadn't even noticed!#this is some new world devil's fruit bullshit right here #the Op Op no mi #i said what i said #one piece #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law #amusing musings #zolaw #wano arc #his hands #watch what your doing with those things buddy

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lavrapalmers · 5 years

Text

various storms and saints / chapter 3

summary: allie pressman knows it’s a betrayal to have a crush on harry bingham, but she can’t help it

word count: 3.9k

read on ao3 HERE

the chaos came quicker than any of them thought it would, so quick and so sudden and so rough, it was as if the people in the streets weren’t themselves. as if the rain falling had poisoned them, made them creatures of the night, only able to cause trouble.

allie knew this wasn’t the truth, but she wishes it was, wishes there was some excuse for the way they acted. it was better than just accepting that these people she had known her entire life were not what they seemed, that they were darker, more cruel then she could ever have hoped for. it was animalistic, like their innate desire to wreak havoc could no longer be contained and it threatened to topple and take them all done.

it was good of cassandra to call this meeting for the girls, smart of her, yet a selfish part of allie wondered if there was another side to it all. a hidden meaning, directed just for her, a personal warning to stay away from harry. she hadn’t told cassandra anything but she saw them come to the flame together, the way they huddled under the hoodie and stayed close even after. she knew her sister was suspecting, but she knew she wouldn’t ask anything about it either. not until she knew for sure, not until there was something really there to ask about.

and sometimes allie’s mind still lurks on that night, when there isn’t anything to keep her occupied (though there always is). helping cassandra with the meeting, helping her come up with jobs, get everyone together in the church to announce the new rules and the way things are gonna go.

she feels a sense of shame at his hesitation in agreeing to it, her eyes planted on him as she waits for his hand to go up, her stomach turning when he’s the last one to do it. she knows she isn’t responsible for his mistakes, she knows what they had was for a night and nothing more, and yet it hurts to see it. it hurts because it makes her question herself, her judgement, and that the image in her head is so different from the way he is in this room that she questions which one is real. the boy from that night or the boy here, the one that contradicted cassandra and was so painfully selfish?

she couldn’t admit to herself that he might be both.

he raises his hand begrudgingly, and only then does she look away from him, and tries to forget it all.

she thought that once she got him out of her system her crush would leave with it, like reality would hit her and say you got your moment, you lived it, time to move on. that’d she’d realize it wasn’t that great, it wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be and she’d move on.

but she can’t move on, as much as she’d like to, the same way she can’t move on from the pain of cassandra not including her on the committee. it bites and hurts in a way she could never imagine, because it feels like where her loyalties lie do not lie back with her, and even her own sister sees her as nothing but her double.

and she’s screaming and crying at her sister and she doesn’t even seem to care, and allie hates this world so much because for as much as it gives it takes away even more because she’s never hated her sister but lately she’s starting to think she might. just a tiny bit, just for this day.

allie wants to run off and find harry, kiss him in the street and let everyone know just for it to go back to her sister, so she can feel that betrayal and find out from someone else like she did. know what it’s like to feel left out, hurt and manipulated, and like you don’t mean as much to the other as they do to you.

she’s smart though, she wouldn’t do that, because she may be mad now and she may be crying and hating cassandra but she knows things will be fixed soon. she can’t ruin their relationship, not here in this twisted place, not now when she needs her most.

and she never thought she’d be more excited to go to work than she is now, because it beats being home while they fight and being left to her own devices. leaving her mind blank and allowed to flow with the worst, because even if she’s in a god awful hairnet and glaring at will’s back for making it on the committee when she doesn’t, she’d rather be counting plates and covering bread in garlic than thinking of all the shit that has managed to happen in such a short amount of time.

she wakes up early for her shift and rushes there before cassandra or any of her friends can stop her, and when she goes home she immediately takes a nap. she wants to avoid the world and the way it hurts, and the fact that the only one who seems to truly see her is herself.

and then there’s him, walking out like a god send to throw off her tireless week that’s starting to feel like groundhog day. he comes like the devil and angel on her shoulder, representing too much for someone who should mean so little. but that night he claimed to see her, to know she isn’t cassandra, and right now she needs someone like that.

“hey.” he calls out to her, greeting her with a smile and a laugh, almost like he’s actually glad to see her. he saunters over to her quickly, and she can’t believe how naturally the smile on her face appears but this time she doesn’t fight it. “looking good.”

“i dressed up just for you.” she exclaims, hand on her chest as a fake testament to her love for him, and he stops close enough to mean something but not close enough for anyone who walks by to notice. it’s all very strategic, very sly.

“i’ll look like you soon enough.” he pushes her shoulder gently and his eyes are warm and kind, so different from that morning in the church with cassandra, and she doesn’t understand how he can be that way. so cruel to her sister, cold eyes almost dead, and so warm with her, so kind and alive.

she strips herself of the hairnet, flipping her blonde curls from under it and handing it over to him. they’ve shared a bed, a hair net is nothing in comparison to that. “oh, well, then you should take this.”

he puts it on with a bow, a tuft of those black curls sticking out, and somehow even with that he’s so handsome. harry bingham looks like the type that can do no wrong but also is all wrong, an angel and devil in one, the forbidden fruit she has already taken a bite out of.

“i’ve never wanted you more.” and while her voice reflects that it’s a joke only she knows it’s not, because more than ever she wants him to take her home and wrap her in his arms, kiss her until she forgets who she is and the troubles she has, make her not regret liking him the way she does. “are you going to prom?”

he shrugs in response, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes but he keeps his smile to her, and she’s glad she’s at least worth pretending. “not sure yet. don’t really have a date anymore.”

“you don’t need a date to go to prom.” she argues, it is the twenty first century after all.

“do you have one?” he asks with the tilt of his head, and she wonders what game he is playing while he flirts with her but still longs for kelly.

she shakes her head and scrunches her nose as she replies, “no, no one i’m really interested. plus this guy i slept with didn’t even think about asking me.”

his smile quirks up more, grows wider, even for a second as he laughs. the way he bounces into the rhythm of her joke so quickly proves her point that she could fall in love with him, the way he just gets her immediately, the way he plays along. “did you want him to?”

it’s her turn to shrug, look around the area as if she’s thinking, and part of her is. she truly is conflicted in her answer, because no matter what she knows the answer she’ll give him won’t be the truth but she doesn’t even know the truth herself. in some ideal world she’d love for him to take her, to slow dance in the middle of the dance floor and kiss at the climax of the song, but in the real world she knows dancing with harry bingham would shift too much in her life. too much has changed all ready, she can’t handle anything more despite how bad she wants it.

“not really.” it comes out in a teasing tone, hinting at him that a part of her wouldn’t be opposed, but it’d be best not to.

“well maybe he’ll save her a dance.” his hands are in his pockets and he leans forward to almost whisper it to her, and she looks up at him with his hairnet on as he says it and gives him a look that says too much about how she sees it, how she feels.

and she exposes too much unintentionally, three words shifting it all. “i’d like that.” no longer following their joke, their hidden meanings, and the scariest part is that she thinks he’d go running but he doesn’t. his face says something too and it’s like a book she’s too afraid to read.

and for a second she thinks maybe her feelings aren’t one sided, not completely at least, because the way he looks at her runs a chill up her spine and the way he smiles makes her almost choke on her feelings and how strong they are. how badly they overwhelm her, and she sees his lips moving to say something she’s too afraid to hear so she runs.

“i should go, um...” and she can’t even continue her sentence because she has no real excuse and she wants to take it back the minute she sees his face and the way it falls, the disappointment of her leaving. his begging eyes yearning her to stay, his fiddling hands reflecting that nervous boy she saw when he tried to kiss her, and for a second she worries it might be her who ends up breaking his heart and not the other way around.

she gives him her bullshit excuse of needing a nap and walks away as she says it, not being able to handle it, knowing if she sees him look at her like that she’ll give up and stay there for too long and reveal too much.

and she doesn’t miss the way he huffs away and rips the hairnet off, how his posture tilts into a defeated state as he walks away and she knows something is wrong. this new world is affecting all of them in such different ways, and she doesn’t know what weight is being held on harry’s shoulders but it looks like a heavy one.

but that’s no excuse, there’s a weight on everyone’s back, and they all just have to learn how to live with it now.

she really tries to have fun at prom, and she does for awhile, but things just seem to refuse to go her way. her friends trickle out or find dates, and she’s still reeling from her fight with cassandra that has had no resolution in sight, and she hates feeling so alone in a room with almost everyone she knows.

all she needs is a drink, and she rushes to the table before she even sees who is there, too blinded by her own pain to even see him. but she had seen him all night, the longing look towards kelly as she danced with will, the pained expression and dejected features. that’s the girl he wants, she never expected to erase three years worth of a relationship for him, and yet it still hurts watching him watch her.

“you came.” is all she can say as she pours herself a drink, her mood almost as bitter and harsh as the whiskey sliding down her throat.

“so did you.” he seems to be in the same mood as her, for entirely different reasons, and she has a feeling that is no coincidence.

harry chuckles as he watches her down her drink with a scrunched expression of disgust, and offers her his own. she takes it and knows she should walk away and leave it as is, but she holds her place next to him because she’d rather wallow with someone else than alone.

“so...” he starts off, bringing her attention back to him and his monotone voice. “wanna dance?”

“it’s probably simpler in the long run if we don’t.” and that might be the best decision she’s made in awhile concerning harry, because he would lead her nothing but trouble. she let herself be his rebound girl for one night but she can’t do that to herself again, not when the pain he feels seems so much more deep, not when her and cassandra are already fighting. “and i’m not really in the mood.”

“yeah. me neither.” everything about him seems so off, his tone of voice and aura, and she’s too busy with her own load to try and carry part of his.

she leaves him in the dust because she doesn’t know what else to do, she’s trying to find an adequate distraction but nothing is working. she drowns herself in her drink and in the crafts, and even dances with will but it doesn’t matter because one dance is done and she’s left alone again watching all the couples kiss.

she doesn’t care about that, she doesn’t want a relationship, not in this chaotic world they now are being forced to call home. she just hates feeling so alone, feeling so unseen and invisible. she’s gotten too good at that, and she isn’t sure what she wants because she wants to be seen but she doesn’t want the limelight. she wants to keep her place but she also wants more, and she doesn’t want to be here a second longer.

allie knows she has to let things go, forgive cassandra and move on with her life. it’ll be easier then without all that rage, because she knows her sister is good to her and she knows she means no harm, and she swears that tomorrow morning they’ll talk and work it all out. allie will tell her she wants to be seen and cassandra will listen and maybe something will change but even if they don’t she really won’t mind, because she’s lived seventeen years like this and she can live some more, because right now isn’t a time to be selfish and she needs her sister now more than ever.

but she’s going to be selfish for one last night, she’s going to be mad and she’s going to make bad decisions because she deserves at least that, the freedom to do so. tomorrow is a new day but tonight is still today, and today she can be as mad as she wants and she plans to be until it burns out.

harry is sitting alone at his table with that solemn look on his face that she’s so tired of seeing and she doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to him as fast as she can. “get up, we’re going.”

he looks up at her, eyes distant and look so confused, something she can’t really blame him for. he has no idea what is going on in her head the same way she has no idea what’s going on in his, but she has an idea. she doesn’t care though because tonight she’s thinking of herself, and she knows he wouldn’t mind some company much either.

“what are you talking about?”

her face doesn’t change, doesn’t shift with a smile or a smirk as she responds. “i want you to take me back to your place before any of your new roommates get back to see you take me there.”

he knows what that means and she sees him think it over in his mind, but it doesn’t take long for him to get up and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her out the doors into the darkness where the two reside in the hollow of their mind, but at least tonight they will reside there together.

“we never had our dance.” he whispers in her ear as they walk out.

“we can have this instead.” she turns her head and whispers back, getting in his car as he speeds back home, and for once she doesn’t mind how reckless it all is. she finally takes a good look at him as he drives, his hair slicked back all the way, trying to tame his loose curls to fit in one place the same way cassandra is trying to change him to fit in with their rules. a part of her feels bad for him, that he has to shift everything he’s ever known, but a bigger part of her knows he has to get over it because it’s what’s right.

an even bigger part of thinks more of how she wants to make a mess of his hair with her hands carded through it while he has his way with her.

when they get inside neither of them turns on a light, and the house is empty and quiet and all theirs, and it’s nothing like their first time together. their kisses are frantic and sloppy as they walk up the stairs, bumping into the wall as they try to strip him of his jacket and unzip her dress. this time both are using each other in a more desperate way, hoping the others kiss will erase all their problems and pain but with the knowledge that it won’t.

they’re holding each other in a tight embrace as they fall on his bed together, fighting to fully crawl on while still pressing breathy kisses to any part of the others skin. she can’t believe she’s doing this again, and even with her clothes stripped and his lips pressing kisses against her chest her mind is racing wondering if he thinks it’s kelly, wishes it’s kelly, and she pulls him up to kiss her on the lips before her mind can continue its brutal attack and make her cry.

and it’s different than their first time again for a reason she can’t understand, because he’s on top and inside of her and caressing her face and looking at her with a stare she can’t read and her mouth is agape with muffled gasps because this is the one thing she didn’t expect. she doesn’t expect him to hold her so close and to press gentle kisses against her skin and look her right in the eye and take care of her properly. it’s like something has changed in these few days and she doesn’t know what, but she puts her hand on his face and holds him close too because she wants to treat him as good as he’s treating her.

when they’re done she gets up and slips into her dress, but he slips his hand into hers and gives it a gentle pull. “stay.”

she doesn’t expect that either, and she turns around to see him looking like a god with his hair back to it’s natural curls and his body calling her to cradle in his warmth. and his eyes seem so young, younger than she’s ever seen before, and she wonders if she’s ever seen him so vulnerable before.

she’s no idiot though, and she won’t let things get too far. “you don’t have to pretend, harry.”

his thumb is rubbing the inside of her palm and he’s laying his head on his pillow, looking up at her with the eyes of a confused babe. “what do you mean?”

“that this is something more than it is. that we are. that you aren’t wishing kelly had been with you tonight.” it’s too late to play games, and they’re too old for it now.

his hand in hers goes limp, and she can’t look to see his reaction because she knows a part of her hurt him, and she doesn’t want to feel that guilt.

she looks forward at the blank wall, their hands limp but still together, barely touching but still searching for each others warmth. “it’s more complicated than that...you don’t get it. i like your company.”

it’s like he twisted the knife in her heart and pushed it forward, and she doesn’t know why but she starts to tear up. he doesn’t mean to hurt her, and she doesn’t know what she should expect, and she hates not being able to understand her own feelings. “i’ve got to go.” she chokes out, trying to keep her voice steady, trying not to let him hear it crack.

“stay...please.” his voice is a silent beg, but all she can do is grasp his hand and give it one last squeeze before sitting up and letting it go again.

“i’ll see you around.” she wants to say they can talk then, but what is there to talk about? she’s overthinking it, looking too far into something that isn’t there. two nights mean nothing, not to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. she doesn’t know what he’s saying, and that’s the scariest part.

she grabs her shoes and leaves before he can say anything else, trying to sneak out of the full house undetected and into the dark street where she can not be seen. and she’s scared because she’s had a realization about herself, and she thinks it ruins everything she once thought.

because she’s tried so hard to get into his head, rationalize him, see and feel what he’s thinking to the point where she knew what he was thinking. or at least she thought she did, but she was so wrong, and she doesn’t mind being wrong but she hates the not knowing. she hates not knowing what is in his head and what he’s thinking when he holds her in his arms and she hates that everything she once thought might be wrong because it means she has to continue on blind and she doesn’t know how to do that.

stray tears drop down her face and her body shakes in the cold of the night when she reaches her house, not a light left on, and she tip toes to her room so as not to wake anyone and worry them with the red on her eyes and the blush on her cheeks.

she changes into her pajamas and curls in an almost fetal position on her bed, wanting to go back to simpler times and sleep everything up, wake up and these past few weeks were nothing but a dream.

she pulls the blanket up and wipes her tears away, and thinks she’ll tell cassandra about harry tomorrow. she can’t continue on with secrets, and she can’t continue on with the not knowing.

and most of all, she can’t continue on without her sister, but she might have to learn how to.

#the society #harry bingham #allie pressman #harry x allie #allie x harry #my writing

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the-desolated-quill · 5 years

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Doctor Strange - Marvel Cinematic Universe blog (as requested by 1000+ followers)

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this movie yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Before I start, I just want to say thank you again to all one thousand of my followers (still can’t believe it. That number just doesn’t seem real. LOL). And, as promised, here’s my review of Doctor Strange. I chose to review this movie to mark getting one thousand followers because people have been wanting me to do this review for a long time now (nearly three years in fact) and also because it was this movie, or rather my harsh criticism of this movie, that arguably cemented my reputation on this site. So here we go. Hope you feel it was worth the wait. Enjoy :)

2016. A year of ups and downs to be sure. While it will forever be infamous for the Brexit referendum result, Trump’s victory in the presidential elections and many much beloved celebrity icons dropping dead like fruit flies, it was also the year where two of my all time favourite comic book characters would finally make the jump to the big screen. The first was Deadpool. The second was Doctor Strange. Two characters I thought would never get movie adaptations on account of them both being somewhat niche products. Deadpool was a violent, anarchic parody of antiheroes like Wolverine and the Punisher, while Doctor Strange was a psychedelic fantasy story focused on existentialism and Zen philosophy as well as having its themes and influences deep rooted in various Asian cultures and mythologies. Not exactly mainstream. And yet, against all the odds, both movies found great success at the box office. The difference being Deadpool managed to stay true to the tone and themes of the source material, whereas Doctor Strange... oh dear.

Now my long term followers will be very much aware of my stance on this movie. At the time I refused to watch it due to the casting of Tilda Swinton as the Ancient One, viewing it as not only racist erasure, but also demonstrating a severe lack of understanding on the filmmaker’s part. East Asia isn’t just used as window dressing. It’s vitally important to the story as a whole, so discarding it would be incredibly moronic as well as deeply offensive. Now I’m not going to go into all the reasons why the whitewashing of the Ancient One is racist and why all the excuses Marvel gave at the time was bullshit as I’ve already explained these reasons ad nauseum various times before. If you’re curious, read Doctor Yellowface And The Bullshit Machine, where I explain it all in excruciating detail. Here I’m just going to say that this movie is racist. That’s not my opinion. It’s demonstrably, objectively, scientifically, factually and literally true. If you think otherwise, you’re an idiot. Period. Full stop. End of discussion. Do not pass Go. Do not collect £200. With this in mind, when I sat down to watch this for the first time, I expected to be angered and outraged by it throughout. But I wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a bad movie and a bad adaptation of Doctor Strange, but honestly the most remarkable thing about this movie is how unremarkable it is. Which is a problem in more ways than one, but now we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Lets start with the things I liked. Don’t worry. This won’t take long. There really isn’t that much to like about this film frankly. Even the bits I like have massive caveats to them.

My first shiny gold star has to go to Benedict Wong as Wong. Now as much as I love the comics, I’ll be the first to admit it has massive problems when it comes to how it presents Asian characters. So I’m pleased to report that Wong is the only aspect of the film that’s actually better than the source material. Whereas comic book Wong was Doctor Strange’s manservant, movie Wong plays more of a mentor role in Strange’s story. He’s the librarian of Kamar-Taj, guarding the sacred tomes, and is actually at a higher rank than Strange, which I love. It’s a good shift that refreshes the dynamic between them, and Benedict Wong’s deadpan delivery is exceptional. I just wish we could have spent more time with Wong and Strange. Maybe see Wong actually teach him something.

The second praiseworthy element of the film is the visual effects. This film was nominated for an Academy Award and... yeah, can’t argue with that. The CGI is fairly good for the most part. My favourite part of the whole film was when the Ancient One shows Strange the multiverse for the first time. The visual effects team clearly had a lot of fun coming up with weird and wonderful worlds that we only get a short tantalising glimpse of. (the dimension of hands gave me the shivers). This sequence came the closest to realising Steve Ditko’s vision in my opinion. Beyond that all we see for the rest of the movie is the poxy mirror dimension, which admittedly is cool at first, but quickly becomes dull and repetitive each time its trotted out. There’s even an entire fight sequence between Strange, Mordo and Kaecilius in a distorted version of New York, which would have been impressive if Christopher Nolan hadn’t done it first in Inception. And the less said about the technicolor monstrosity that was the Dark Dimension, the better.

Finally there’s Benedict Cumberbatch as Strange himself. I know some people were disappointed that Marvel didn’t racebend the character and I would have preferred that to, but if we must have a white guy in the role, I’m glad it’s Cumberbatch. He does a decent job in the role and there are moments where Strange almost leaps from the page and onto the screen.

Almost.

Because that’s the problem. Cumberbatch does the best he can, but he’s ultimately let down by the script. This film has a lot of issues, but by far the biggest is the title character. He may be called Doctor Strange, but he’s really Doctor Strange in name only. I was a massive fan of the comics growing up and I’m telling you this guy isn’t Doctor Strange. At least not the Doctor Strange I remember. And the weird thing is this seems almost by design. In order to show him to a mainstream audience, Marvel seem to have felt the need to completely sanitise the character, removing everything about him that made him unique and interesting in order to fit the expectations of the lowest common denominator.

Let me explain.

People often compare Strange unfavourably to Iron Man, and I can understand why to a certain extent. Both represent the epitome of white privilege and materialist obsession and their origin stories focus very heavily on criticising and deconstructing these inherently selfish and unlikable characters. Iron Man is about forcing a capitalist industrialist to take responsibility for the consequences of his actions, whereas Doctor Strange is about forcing an egocentric man to care about the wider world outside of his own bubble of privilege. Both may sound similar, but there’s a key difference between the two. Iron Man’s origin revolves around responsibility whereas Doctor Strange’s origin revolves around relativity. This needs to be understood if you’re going to attempt to adapt Strange and director Scott Derrickson doesn’t seem to understand that at all.

The fatal mistake Derrickson makes with this movie is that he’s trying to make Strange like Iron Man without fully understanding what made the first Iron Man movie good and what sets Strange apart. He’s clearly hit upon the arrogant, egocentric thing, but the problem is people exhibit arrogance and egocentricity in different ways. The comics understood this. Iron Man’s arrogance takes the form of this charismatic, devil may care kind of attitude, whereas Strange’s arrogance was more along the lines of an Ebenezer Scrooge type figure. Someone who’s cold and uncaring. Someone like...

Yeah! Someone like Dr Gregory House from the TV series House M.D.

See, if Iron Man is like Elon Musk, Doctor Strange is like House. Both are arrogant, but in different ways. So to see movie Strange acting all smug and making quips and one liners just didn’t feel right. Which is not to say Strange can’t be funny. The comics had their humorous moments, but it’s not the same kind of humour as Iron Man. Strange should be more cutting. More snarky. He needs to have more of a bite to him. Instead we get the poor man’s version of Robert Downey Jr.

But wait, because it’s actually worse than that. It’s not just Strange’s personality that’s different. Our perception of him is different too. The first Iron Man movie was extremely clear in how we should view Tony Stark. The gambling, the drinking, his lack of responsibility and the way he takes his friends and co-workers for granted. We’re clearly not supposed to like him. That’s why his character arc works. We’re seeing this selfish individual realise how selfish he is and try to make amends. Strange should be similar. He’s a callous arsehole who won’t lift a finger to help someone if the case isn’t interesting enough, seeing it as beneath him. So when the car accident occurs, him getting nerve damage in his hands feels less like a tragedy and more like karma. The universe punishing Strange for his selfish behaviour and forcing him to change. In the movie however, he doesn’t seem like that at all. In fact kind of the opposite. He doesn’t object to helping his ex girlfriend get a bullet out of a patient’s head and he seems to get on well with most of his colleagues, including his ex. Sure he’s a bit of a dick, but he still seems nice enough. The only time we see his Scroogeness come out is after the accident, at which point it’s hard to hate him even after he berates his ex because he’s a decent guy who’s understandably frustrated, which absolutely should not be the case. Strange is a bastard who cares for no one but himself. We’re not supposed to like him. But Marvel and Disney are so preoccupied about getting bums on seats that they’ve actually managed to strip away all the elements that make Strange Strange.

And then there’s the origin story itself, which the film gets completely wrong. Sure the basic elements are still there. Strange, in a last ditch effort to save his hands, travels East to see the Ancient One (except the Ancient One is now in Nepal instead of Tibet because of the Chinese market, but apparently they still can’t cast an Asian person as the Ancient One even though the film no longer has anything to do with Tibet and therefore there should be no issue. Marvel are racist dicks. Case closed), but beyond that everything is changed. In the comics, the Ancient One refuses to heal Strange’s hands because he’s a selfish arsehole who deserves no pity or help from anyone, but then when Baron Mordo tries to assassinate the Ancient One, Strange does the first selfless thing he’s ever done in his miserable life and tries to warn the Ancient One despite having his mouth magically sealed shut by Mordo. Then it’s later revealed that his mouth wasn’t sealed shut at all, and that the Ancient One knew all along Mordo was planning to assassinate him and was merely testing Strange, at which point he invites the good doctor to practice magic in order to stop Mordo in the future. In the movie however, Strange gets kicked out by the Ancient One only to then promptly get let back in after banging on their front door for several hours and gets taught all these spells despite showing no sign of selflessness or willingness to change whatsoever. Oh yeah, and Strange and Mordo are now total besties.

Do you see what I mean about this being a bad adaptation? There’s no longer any conflict. No character arcs. No one learns anything. Everything is just hunky dory and Strange is just magically a good person now. This is truly shit writing.

Everything about this movie seems to have been designed to be as bland and uncomplicated as possible. All the Asian influences and philosophies have been surgically removed to make way for a generic, knock-off Hogwarts for Dummies. The interesting plots and themes have been replaced with a by-the-numbers save the world plot. Even the lore has been simplified to an almost insulting degree. Take the Eye of Agamotto for instance. A powerful magical artefact created by and named after the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived.... reduced to a fucking Infinity Stone.

Oh and the Cloak of Levitation now has a mind and personality of its own because why the fuck not? Who wants to watch something intelligent or philosophical? Lets just make a shitty cross between Harry Potter and Mr. Bean.

And then... there’s the white saviour stuff.

Now I confess I haven’t read the comics for quite some time, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure Strange didn’t have a photographic memory. Yet in the movie, that’s the convenient explanation we’re given for why Strange is somehow able to learn complex spells in a matter of days. Spells that are apparently meant to take years to learn, like astral projection and time manipulation. Now the comics had this problem too, what with proclaiming that Strange is not only the Sorcerer Supreme, but the most powerful Sorcerer Supreme that’s ever lived, as though his white skin were like the star power-up from Super Mario Bros, but the movie seems to go out of its way to double down on this bollocks. Oh sure, we see him struggle to create magic portals every now and then, but it doesn’t hide the fact that he’s somehow able to create mirror worlds and time loops despite having little to no training whatsoever. He’s like Rey from Star Wars. He can just pull any random super power out of his arse when the script requires him too.

So having completely botched Strange’s characterisation and journey, how are the rest of the supporting cast? Well like I said, I like this new Wong, even though he’s criminally underused. As for the other characters, it’s a pretty forgettable bunch.

Lets start with the elephant in the room. Tilda Swinton. Having heard all the excuses under the sun as to why Marvel and Disney simply had to cast a bald white woman wearing a bathrobe in an Asian role, I was expecting something pretty spectacular from Swinton, especially after all the praise critics gave her. Instead we get... well... a pretty dull character actually. In fact I’d go as far to say that this is the blandest and most uninspired performance I think I’ve ever seen Swinton give. There’s just nothing there. Now admittedly the Ancient One wasn’t all that complex or well developed in the comics neither, being little more than a racial caricature, but I thought the whole reason they whitewashed the character was to make him/her ‘enigmatic and ethereal.’ Instead we just get the same generic mentor figure we’ve seen dozens of times before. All the stuff about her tapping into the powers of Dormammu to increase her lifespan could have made her more interesting, but the film never fully capitalises on this revelation before she kicks the bucket.

Baron Mordo is pretty much just dead weight, with the great Chiwetel Ejiofor utterly wasted in the role. He’s essentially reduced to being yet another black sidekick for the white lead. Again, the comic book version isn’t all that great neither, but the movie replaces this camp pantomime villain with absolutely bugger all. We don’t get to see any real conflict between him and Strange until the very end and even then it doesn’t really make sense. Mordo is a stickler for rules and so gets pissy with Strange when he breaks the rules in order to save the world, to which I can only ask... what else could he have done? I didn’t see you come up with any bright ideas Mordo, you fucking moron.

Rachel McAdams... exists.

Seriously, why is she in this movie? Why does Doctor Strange need a love interest? Why not just wait and introduce Clea? I could get behind using an ex girlfriend to display how selfish and narcissistic Strange is (a bit cliche I admit, but this is an MCU film we’re talking about. I’m not exactly expecting Citizen Kane here), but as I said before, the two seem to get on quite well. And other than stitching up a stab wound, Christine Palmer pretty much does nothing throughout the majority of the film. So what is she even doing there?

Also it appears the film’s racism doesn’t just extend to Asian people because it turns out Christine Palmer is actually Night Nurse in the comics. The same mantle Claire Temple has, who appears in Marvel’s Netflix shows. Not only does this come off as quite alarmingly racist, it’s also just plain weird. For all their boasts about wanting to create a shared universe, Marvel seems to spend every opportunity it can find to keep the Netflix stuff at arms’ length, to the point where you question why they’re even in the same continuity in the first place. If Strange must have some human connection, why couldn’t it have been Claire Temple? For one thing, Claire’s character is much more interesting than Christine’s (and Rosario Dawson is a much better actor than McAdams. Sorry, but it’s true), and it would be a great opportunity to bridge the gap between the movies and Netflix shows without having to bog the narrative down with exposition. But as I’ve said numerous times in the past, Marvel are more interested in creating a BIG shared universe than a coherent one.

Finally there’s the villains. Nearly always the worst aspect of any MCU film and Strange is no different. We have Kaecilius, played by Hannibal’s Mads Mikkelsen whose performance is more wooden than Pinocchio, and Dormammu, played by Benedict Cumberbatch who seems to be competing with Andy Serkis as to who can play the most CGI/motion capture characters. Both, unsurprisingly, are shite. Kaecilius wants to save the world from death by allowing Dormammu to destroy it.

I don’t get it either.

So you’re probably wondering who was Kaecilius in the comics. I mean I’ve explained everything else, haven’t I? And honestly, I haven’t the faintest idea. Turns out he was a henchman of Baron Mordo who I completely forgot about because he barely ever shows up in the comics. So... they turned Baron Mordo into the black sidekick so that the villain could be played by a white guy. Oh. And guess what race Kaecilius is in the comics.

YYYYYep. He’s Asian. I guess all the Asian actors were sick that day, so they had to cast a white guy.

Oh and you’ll never guess what his backstory is. You’re right! He has none! Other than references to some tragedy, we know absolutely fuck all about him. Critics actually liked this movie?!?!

Oh and don’t get me started on the humour.

Kaecilius: “Mr...?”

Strange: “Doctor.”

Kaecilius: “Mr. Doctor?”

Strange: “No, it’s Strange.”

Kaecilius: “I guess so. Who am I to judge?”

Dear God, someone was paid to write that.

Then there’s the Big Bad Dormammu from the Dark Dimension. (Yes, the same Dark Dimension from Agent Carter and nope, that’s never referenced. In fact this doesn’t even look like the same Dark Dimension as the one from Agent Carter. Although, to be fair, I’d want to forget Season 2 happened as well considering how fucking terrible it was, but come on guys!). In the comics Dormammu is a mystical entity that has a quote ‘unnatural obsession with our material universe’. Could be interesting to explore. Oh but I forget, this is an MCU film. They don’t want interesting. They want safe. So instead we get a purple, floating CGI head and the generic destroyer of worlds archetype. (In fact Dormammu weirdly has more in common with Galactus than the actual Dormammu. Sometimes I wonder if anyone at Marvel Studios have ever even so much as glanced at one of their own comics before).

In conclusion, is this the worst film I’ve ever seen? Admittedly no. It’s not that bad. If you switch your brain off, I can imagine someone having a good time with this film. But you see that’s the problem. You shouldn’t have to switch your brain off to enjoy Doctor Strange. If anything the opposite is true. The comics, despite their faults, were intelligent, surreal and thought provoking, asking questions about our universe and our place within it. Steve Ditko (and only Steve Ditko. The late Stan Lee may have put pen to paper, but it was ultimately Ditko’s ideas and vision, which makes the gratuitous Stan Lee cameo in this film particularly galling to me) created something truly captivating in Doctor Strange. Despite the racial caricatures and white saviour tropes, I still love these comics because of how it explores the world and our relation to that world. How we are just small cogs in a massive and intricate machine. It’s truly groundbreaking and would influence many other comics to come. The Doctor Strange movie doesn’t even begin to do that. It won’t influence anyone. It won’t make anyone think or question their role in the cosmos. In fact, three years later, despite being a huge box office success, it’s largely been forgotten. And that’s a crying shame because Strange deserves so much more.

Doctor Strange may not be the worst comic book movie ever made, but it’s a terrible adaptation of the source material. Anything that made it unique or interesting was carefully removed with surgical precision under the guise of making it more progressive, when in reality they just wanted to make it profitable. But profitable doesn’t mean good, and Doctor Strange doesn’t even come close to being a good movie. I would love to have seen what a director like David Lynch or Ang Lee would have done with this psychedelic material. This movie could and should have been the most intelligent and surreal comic book movie that’s ever been made. A perfect opportunity to allow a visionary filmmaker to go wild and express themselves artistically. Instead it’s just another MCU movie. It’s such a shame.

And people wonder why I’m worried about Deadpool joining the MCU.

#doctor strange #marvel cinematic universe #review #spoilers

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