#and yes it is largely just my go-to place to shove all my ships and headcanons into

[dreamerdrop]

Julian does kind of strike me as someone who just sort of. Endures suffering and then pushes it way, way down and pretends it doesn’t hurt.

Bad things happen and he just sits quietly and then pushes it down and pretends he’s okay so he can get on with whatever he needs to get on with.

Doesn’t know how to process trauma or misery inside himself, but he can help other people with theirs, so he just. Keeps going. Keeps working. Keeps trying.

It makes sense, I mean, the pivotal traumatic incident in his life was one he has never been allowed to even allude to out of fear. His parents don’t seem very emotionally available for him either, so he’s definitely never talked out those issues with them. So he’s probably just grown up pushing any off feelings back down and focusing on something else.

And even when his big ol secret is finally out, he still doesn’t really talk about it or acknlowedge it unless someone basically drags him kicking and screaming into having to focus on it. He never really talks about or addresses like. Anything.

Like his attempts at curing the blight and how fucked up he was over that. Or the time he thought he could save the Jem’Hadar from their ketracel white addiction. (And boy howdy does that episode take on new layers of pain when you think about him being so sympathetic to entities that were genetically engineered to suffer and his own backstory.) Surviving a psychic attack that basically involved his own subconscious mind trying to talk him into embracing death. A month in a prison camp where he probably definitely thought he was going to just die there, and then realizing no one knew he was gone, and his friends are not anywhere near disturbed enough by any of what just happened.

(To be clear, I think it’s fine that they didn’t realise it was a changeling. I think the reaction they have when they find out retroactively, however, is like. Guys. A minute ago you thought Julian Bashir, your close friend of several years, beloved station doctor, had betrayed the federation and had to be killed. Guys. Forget Julian for a second. How was this not traumatic for the rest of you?)

Then there’s all of that Sloan fuckery which is basically just three episodes of one man trying to gaslight Julian into a dissociative break for reasons.

And he just. Bounces back. Next episode, time to move on, insists he’s totally fine. Except he’s not. He gets gradually more and more tired and miserable and closed off but he just. Never fucking talks about it to anyone. Never deals with how messed up he’s slowly becoming. Never recovers. Never heals. Never gets closure for any of it.

He has so many wonderful moments where he comforts someone else when they break, when they’re scared, when they let all the bad stuff finally make them collapse.

But Julian just never really collapses like that, and it’s like he actively ensures he will never have the chance to collapse because he doesn't want to (and probably doesn’t know how to) deal with any of his issues.

Can you imagine what it would look like when he finally breaks.

[ragingadhd]

Every day I inch closer to giving in to my most neurodivergent hyperfixation and spam posting about my Ranger’s Apprentice x Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom AU

[marlynnofmany]

Monkey Chase

I stepped off the loading ramp and got a good view of the reason why we’d landed in the wrong part of the spaceport. A giant cargo hauler lay on its side, broken and bent — had a ship crashed into it, or had the engine exploded? I couldn’t tell from here — and large slabs of spaceship insulation gel sprawled everywhere. The hauler’s cargo, clearly. As I watched, three people with a hovercart tried to shove one aside to no effect, and another slab as big as a cross-section from my old apartment on Earth slowly peeled off from inside the remains of the hauler. It hit the ground with the squishiest thud I’d ever heard - the thing was the color of smoke, but dense enough to make the ground vibrate from here.

I whistled, then regretted it when the tentacle alien on the ramp beside me scrunched up at the sound. “Sorry,” I told Mur.

“Ow,” he said, uncurling his blue-black tentacles. “Was that a human swear? It’s sharp.”

“More of a ‘wow-look-at-that’ kind of noise,” I said. “But swearing would sure be appropriate. What a mess.”

“You said it. Glad it’s not our problem.”

Captain Sunlight came down the ramp to join us, regal as ever in the bright yellow scales that had given her the name. “Our client isn’t answering,” she said. “I’ve put in a request at the local medcenter to see if they’ve been injured in this crisis, but haven’t heard back yet. Anyone interested is welcome to join me in walking over to where their ship was meant to be parked.”

Three other crewmates followed her out of the ship: Blip and Blop in their flowiest silks that both matched their fin colors and also showed off their biceps, and Zhee with his purple exoskeleton as shiny as always. They all made quiet noises of dismay at the state of the spaceport.

(Well, Blip and Blop seemed dismayed. Zhee was looking down his nonexistent nose at whoever had been careless enough to cause such a mess.)

Mur waved a tentacle. “Lead the way,” he said to the captain. “Here’s hoping the ship isn’t buried under all that.”

“Yeah, it looks heavy,” I said as we moved out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a little ship could be crushed under that, especially if it also took damage from whatever kaboom happened in the first place.”

As we got closer, I made several observations in a range of importance. A medical shuttle was zipping off toward the city center while another appeared to be waiting around just in case; the medics were standing there chatting instead of tending to anyone. The gel slabs couldn’t be pushed, though they could be lifted with a big enough gravity platform. There was only one of those here. Cleanup was going to take a while. The slabs covered a large area of ground as well as a couple ship-sized lumps, turning the spaceport into a sea of smoky gray translucent rubber.

A small creature bounced around on it. People were shouting about that.

“What’s going on over there?” I asked.

Captain Sunlight sighed deeply and sped up. “I really hope that’s not our cargo.”

“Our cargo’s an animal?”

“Yes, among other things. I thought I told you, but I guess not; it was a last-minute addition to our load. Someone’s exotic pet.” She looked up at me with concern on her lizardy face. “How are your animal-catching skills?”

“Depends on the animal,” I said, squinting at the fast-moving thing. I was the critter expert on the ship, but I didn’t want to promise anything. “What species is it?”

“I’ll bring up the description in a moment,” Captain Sunlight said. “I think I see our client over there.”

She was right. The slender Frillian with a leash and an exasperated expression did turn out to be the person we’d come to meet, and the various spaceport officials on the scene had no any easy answers about how to catch his pet.

“Normally he comes running for food!” the client exclaimed. “But he’s got plenty to pick from here!” He pointed accusingly at the spill of fruit from a truck smashed open by a slab of gel.

“Oh, like that’s my fault?” said a Heatseeker who was busy gathering fruit. “Half my stock is ruined! Go catch your little menace and stop complaining.”

This led to a rant about how impossible the menace in question was to catch when he didn’t want to be — giving him a bath had to be done by trickery — and he was never going to come down from this playground full of food, and oh the man should have just paid for a transit that allowed him to bring pets.

Zhee muttered agreement at that last, but I don’t think the guy heard him. Spaceport officials offered calming words and a reminder that nets had been sent for.

Captain Sunlight asked one of them, “Is there an animal-handling service anywhere nearby?”

“Nowhere close,” was the answer.

She looked back up at me. “Any bright ideas? Here, I’ll show you the description.”

While she unfolded a screen and brought up the information from this particular courier gig, I watched the jumpy creature carefully. He was close enough for a good look now, since he’d come back to snatch another alien citrus off the ground, making the owner yell after him.

My first thought was “monkey,” followed by “frog.” The animal was long-limbed and green, though with velvety fur instead of an amphibian’s shine, and had a tail that could hold fruit just as well as his hands could. Pointy nose, round ears, and the biggest eyes of anyone here except for Zhee. He could probably see a person sneaking up from behind. He was fast. And he was clearly having a great time jumping from one bouncy surface to another, making chattering noises and spitting citrus peel everywhere.

“It’s called a treeleaper,” Captain Sunlight told me. “Warmblooded, diurnal, omnivorous, and ‘a bit of a troublemaker.’”

Mur snorted. “Sounds like your species,” he told me.

“Just with a tail,” Zhee added.

“I wanted a tail as a kid,” I said absently, thinking hard. I’d just caught sight of a shipful of humans disembarking nearby, on the other side of the biggest pile of gel. They looked like they were in pretty good shape. One was already walking on the gel and laughing about the bounce.

I had an idea. “Excuse me, Captain. I think I see reinforcements,” I said, then ran off toward my unsuspecting kinfolk. When I got close, I took great pleasure in yelling, “Hey humans! Who wants to help me chase a monkey across a trampoline??”

They were all smiles and questions, then when I led the way to where they could see the monkey-frog jumping around with stolen fruit, they volunteered immediately.

“I’ll get the small cargo net!”

“Do you think the big gravity wands will slow it down?”

“Bet you a cleaning shift that I can grab it in a towel.”

“You’re on!”

I told Captain Sunlight that I had successfully recruited some animal-catchers, and she didn’t bat an eye, just suggesting that our crew gather similar tools from our own ship. Zhee and the twins rushed off while Mur stayed to yell suggestions.

The other humans were already venturing into the bounce zone. I hurried to follow, grabbing a fist-sized lime thing from the ground as I did. We made a wide circle before closing in.

The treeleaper saw us coming, of course. Threw a half-eaten fruit at one person and made a rude noise at another, then sprang up to ricochet between surfaces like an unholy pinball.

Thus began a merry chase.

It brought back memories of bouncy houses and birthday parties at the trampoline gym. The gel was tough enough to take an impact without doing more than denting briefly and launching a person hooting into the air, to rebound off another surface and hopefully not smack into anyone else in midair. There were a couple close calls. But that just made everything funnier somehow.

I jumped off one gel wall with and hit another with my shoulder, making the monkey-frog turn a 180 back towards a pair of guys with gravity wands. He tried to spring away to the side, but I threw my lime to bounce off a surface nearby, spooking him enough to change direction yet again. Somebody slid down a gel slab like a rubbery playground slide, yelping as that turned into a wild tumble. The animal didn’t know what to make of all the flailing and laughter. His hesitation was enough for the gravity wands to lift him partway off the gel, then when he stuck a leg out far enough to jump free, he was immediately bagged by a grinning lady with a cargo net.

Everybody cheered.

The treeleaper growled and tried to scramble free, but no luck. Somebody else caught up and helped tie the net off with a scarf. Everyone settled down to minimal bouncing, and many hands worked together to carry the bundle of ropes and disgruntled animal back to solid ground.

“You got him! Is he okay? He didn’t sprain anything in that net, did he? I hope he didn’t eat too much fruit. He’ll do that if given the chance, you know.” The owner was grateful and worried and relieved and talkative.

Eggskin had arrived from our ship with a medical scanner, and thankfully they could put everyone’s mind at ease about the state of our animal cargo. The treeleaper was fine. It had a stomach full of fruit and a bloodstream full of adrenaline, but all it needed was a nice nap in its carrying cage.

I considered asking why it hadn’t been in the carrier before, when the rented shuttle got its windows smashed, but I didn’t.

A small hand patted my back, as far up as it could reach. “Earning your keep once again,” said Captain Sunlight.

I laughed. “That was my pleasure.”

Another human lingering nearby asked, “Is there anything else that needs catching? That was great.”

“Yeah, you should sell tickets to this!” agreed another.

A Frillian in a port uniform said, “No, but thank you.” She paused, then added, “Hm. I wonder if that’s worth suggesting to the owner of all this insulation. It’s useless for its intended purpose now that it’s breached the sanitation shielding.”

I smiled. “It still makes an excellent trampoline even with footprints all over it. Lay those out in an empty field and charge people entrance, and they could make back a decent amount of money. You get plenty humans through this port, right?”

The woman who’d caught the treeleaper said, “We’re here early for a family reunion before the big festival, then there are three or four sporting events in a row. Let us know if that does happen, because we can get you a lot of humans interested in jumping on this stuff.”

I had to leave with the animal cargo back to our courier ship, so I didn’t hear how the rest of the conversation went, but I saw the official bring the representative of the hauling group over to meet the humans. He looked very interested in what the spokesperson had to say.

I grinned at the scene as I walked away: the intense conversation in front of the vast playground of bouncy surfaces. I wondered if we’d get a chance to come back for a visit when they got it set up properly.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[deadlynavigation]

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 5)

5. I've found heaven in hell

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6

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

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

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

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

Word count: 7,9 k

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

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

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

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

Nope, she immediately thought to herself. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're flattering me," Nami grinned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe she was overthinking it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had to get used to that idea. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A normal occurrence, most probably. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait… what?

"Thank you?" she blinked owlishly. 

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

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

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

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

"Something wrong with your eye?"

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

"Very good question," the witch nodded. 

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

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

"Water, please," Nami answered. 

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

"Regular water in a regular glass. Thanks." 

"A beer for me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing too strong, if you may." 

"Of course." 

"Are you done yet?" 

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

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

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

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

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

"Everything's fine." 

Everything was, in fact, not fine. 

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

"Was there anything wrong with your tarot?" 

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

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

"What did you see?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fate spoke for itself. 

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

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

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

"And did you?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your bill, sir."

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

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

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

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

Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why was Luffy always getting into trouble? 

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

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

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you in?" Nami asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How's that so?" 

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

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

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

He clenched his jaw and scoffed. 

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

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

"Just drink."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are you heading to?"

"Killing some time," she winked at Nami. 

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

She hasn't felt that in too long. 

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

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

"You should just admit it," Nami said. 

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

"Don't you think she's pretty?" 

His head snapped towards her. 

"What are you talking about?"

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

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

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

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

"You're quick to jump to conclusions."

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

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

"Speaking of him."

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

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

Zoro turned his head lazily, arching his eyebrow. 

"I don't recall such a name."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're Dracule Mihawk."

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

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

"Zoro?" the witch whispered, horrified. 

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

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

Oh, Gods, please don't. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

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

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

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

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

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

Nami sounded close to losing it all. 

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

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

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

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

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

"This is a suicide mission." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucking hell!" 

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

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

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

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

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

She was angry at him, he figured out quickly. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Zoro—" this time Luffy tried to intervene. 

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

She gave up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She gulped down harshly, blinking away the tears. 

I want to stay with you all so badly. 

"Zoro," she whispered his name again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe there is a chance he gets what I meant. 

"Be careful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I help?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come back alive," she whispered. 

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

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

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

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

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

[jake-g-lockley]

Can I ask for prompts 7 &/or 4 with Poe Dameron? Love your writing! 🥰

Glimmer of Hope (Poe Dameron x reader)

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Prompts: “The hand behind their nape when they are embarrassed.” and “Almost kissing but someone walks in 0_0.”

Warnings: Allusion to injury

A/N: Oh my god thank you for the ask and the sweet comment, my heart <333 I haven’t written for Poe in so long, my beautiful rebellious husband, I hope you like this, it's just pure fluffy goodness xxx

Word Count: 3.1k

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

At times of chaos, a little bit of happiness seems to drive everyone away from their troubles. When there was an announcement of an engagement at the cantina on one particularly glum day, things started to take a turn for the better. There were a lot of tears, all tears of joy as the glimmer of happiness sparked a whole lot of peace in people’s minds. 

You grinned at the happy couple, one a member of the red squadron and the other a tech at the operating base, who also happens to be your best friend, Kamira. They looked so elated and their happiness was clearly contagious. You congratulated the couple, kissing your best friend’s forehead and bringing her in for a hug

“Be my maid of honour,” she whispered through her tears and you nod without a second of hesitation. 

It took you a while to gather yourself but you were determined to make this the best wedding ever, to make it the best glimmer of hope the resistance has ever seen. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were now trudging around a busy market place, searching for the final accessories you were adding to Kamira’s bridal headdress, a small  astromech droid rolling at your heels telling you to hurry up.

“Yes, BB, I won’t be long. Go on, go bother your dad.” you said, turning to chastise the irritated droid. 

It was then when you realised that the man in question was not behind you. You stopped and looked around, frowning when you couldn’t catch the unruly mop of curls or sharp stunning brown eyes

“Wher- Bebs, where’s your dad?” you knelt down to pat his round head. BB-8 made a sound that sounded something like “ Don’t care, am mad.” and you rolled your eyes at the droid.

“He can be mad all he likes, I’m not buying him new fittings until he learns how to behave himself.” a soothing masculine voice with a hint of authoritativeness cuts through the buzzing sounds of the market making you smile.

You gathered your face into a frown before turning to face him.

“You went into a whole lecture about me running off too far when you can waltz off wherever you want and whenever you want?” you poked the man’s chest as he stared you down with a smirk on his handsome face.

“You hadn’t even noticed how long I’ve been missing.” He raised his eyebrows indignantly at you and you couldn’t help the smile at creeped up onto your face.

“Oh shut up, Poe, here, hold these bags.” you shoved your things into his arms and walked away before he could catch anything else from the expression on your face.

Your friendship with the Black Leader had been a unrequired one. You had been working late one night, deep in focus when an X-Wing swooped into the base and landed slightly clumsily. You squinted into the darkness and quickly ran towards the ship when no one came out of it. You pried the foggy glass covering the cockpit open and you were shocked to find Poe Dameron semi-conscious and on the verge of death. 

You had pulled him out with all of your strength, hulling the 80 kg pilot onto one of your trolley’s and pushing him to the med bay, screaming for help. You hadn’t heard from him for about two weeks when suddenly one of your favourite droids, an orange and white astromech, delivered a little message for you from Poe. You both got along amazingly and now here the pilot was, helping you search for wedding preparation things. 

You watched as Poe adjusted the large bag of items on his shoulder as he bargained with a seller. You couldn’t deny that he was a beautiful man to look at. His sweet mannerisms and innocent eyes meant that he could easily get his way at times but you allowed it. The setting suns created a beautiful glow that complimented Poe’s tan skin and brown eyes, turning them into caramel orbs that sparkled like gems at a distance. Poe turned to you with a triumphant smile, indicating that he had won the bargain as the shopkeeper mumbled something and stuffed the things into another bag. 

“Come on, it's getting late, we should get some rest.” Poe’s voice cuts through your thoughts and the both of you walk towards a nearby inn.

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What do you mean one room?” Poe runs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.

“We’re all booked up unfortunately,” said the bored receptionist.

“It's alright Poe, we’ll adjust, we’ll take the room sir.” you said, hooking your arm around Poe and grabbing the key that was set out in front of him giving the receptionist a forced smile. 

Whatever negatives Poe and you thought about the room had been magnified to tenfold when you unlocked the door. The floor was absolutely filthy and the room was cramped, with a bed that was too big for its space. You turned to Poe who was staring into the room with the same expression you had brewing in your head. You couldn’t help but giggle and pinch his cheek at how blatant his emotions were showing through and he snapped out of it, following you into the room.

BB-8 was camping the night in his little astromech pod on the ship Poe flew you in. That just left you and Poe to find somewhere to crash for the night before heading back to base when the suns arose. You sigh and pull out a few scarfs that you brought with you for comfort, laying it on the bed so that you could have some peace of mind when you sleep. It took you a while to realise that Poe was staring like a lost child. 

“You okay?” you turned to Poe, a worried look on your face. 

“Uhm, yea sure. I’ll take the floor, you can have the bed.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

“Don’t be stupid, Poe, you can sleep on the bed with me, I’m not going to throw you off the bed in my sleep.” you chuckled.

Truthfully, you were worried about his back. Ever since that accident, he had been complaining about how bad his back would hurt and nothing seemed to solve it. You didn’t want to be the cause of more of his pain, that might essentially take him away from his true love, flying. You gave him a small smile and head to the refresher to freshen up. 

A few minutes later, there you were, staring face to face with Poe Dameron, casanova of the resistance. You can’t help but think of the many women and men that this man had bedded and you internally smack yourself for thinking up such vulgarity. You close your eyes and pretend to sleep, eventually lulled to unconsciousness by the soft warmth of Poe’s body heat and his soft breathing. 

Poe, on the other hand, was wide awake. His plans of falling asleep in a lone bed were quenched by the bored receptionist and he was now given an opportunity like no other. He knew you were pretending to sleep, so he did too but when your breathing steadied and your eyelids relaxed, Poe laid there and stared at you. He almost never got enough time with you, just to observe you and swim in the feelings that he felt for you. Why would he want to travel to the land of dreams when all he dreamt of was before him?

Now, he pulled himself out of the urge to graze your face with his fingers, to memorise your lips with his. He tucked his hands under the pillow so that they didn’t betray him. Everynight, when he succumbed to the few hours of sleep that he had, he would dream of you. He would see your worried face, the face that you wore when you discovered him at the brink of his death. Your hair was a mess and you had an oil smear on your forehead but Poe thought you were an angel who was going to take him to a better place. 

His hands itched to tuck a stray piece of hair that fell on your face as you soundly slept but he reeled himself back again. Suddenly, with a big sniff, you shifted in your sleep and one of your hands landed directly in front of Poe’s nose. He slowly took in a breath and smelled your soft soap and it was then when all of his urges took over him. Slowly, he extracted one of his hands from under the pillow and traced your hand softly, every line etched painstakingly into his brain as his fingers skimmed them, willing himself to remember every single detail. 

You didn’t rouse from your deep sleep although a small smile graced your face as your pinky twitches gently. Poe sighed, slowly letting his heart leave its cavity and fill the lines on your hands. He hooked his pinky around yours gently and waited with bated breath to see whether you would be jolted awake. Your pinky stopped twitching but your breathing stayed the same and Poe continued to stare at you until his eyes betrayed him, sleep consuming him like a hungry curse.

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You awoke to something warm under your face. It was so soft and smelled like clean skin with a hint of motor oil and leather, giving you a sense of comfort like no other. You nuzzled your nose into the warmth and slowly opened your eyes. All you saw was an arm extending from whatever was under your face and memories of last night flooded back to you. You didn’t move but your eyes met with the sleeping Poe, who was snoring softly, a respectful distance between the two of you, minus the hand that was softly tucked under your cheek. 

The rebellious commander looked ethereal in the morning sun, his curls everywhere, his eyebrows and lips set in a neutral position, giving him an angelic resting face. You resisted the urge to close the gap and feel his soft pouty lips on yours. Your heart pounded as you took the chance you had and softly brushed his curls that were at his forehead. The second your hand came in contact with his forehead, a jolt of electricity ran up your spine, and you had to literally pull yourself together and not throw yourself over the sleeping Poe. 

His eyebrows twitched and you resumed your original position, closing your eyes. He slowly woke up and his hand that was under your face gently cupped it as a soft sigh emitted from him, twisting at your insides. Your heart was pounding under your chest and you felt the bed dip slightly as Poe slid out of it and pulled his hand with him.

You only opened your eyes as you heard the door to the refresher close. You silently flung yourself out of bed and did your happy dance as all the receptors of your brain fired at once, your heart pumping adrenaline throughout your body making you feel like a mad woman. The sound of water hitting the floor stopped and you bit your lip, sliding back into bed and pretending you just had woken up when Poe opened the door again.

“We’ll leave for the base after we get some breakfast.” Poe said smiling at you and you nod with a knowing smile, a smile that could only be fueled by the sweet feeling that your commander has fallen for you. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were running now, fabric billowing around you as you ran through the halls, in search of that one door. You found it, keying in the password and letting the door swoosh open before storming inside. Poe turned to look at you, adjusting the buttons to his uniform with a small frown on his face, but the second he properly took a look at you his mouth dropped into a soft smile. 

“How’s it going, Commander?” you giggle, realising that he had put all his buttons wrongly, setting a small jar aside and reaching for him.

“I look ridiculous.” he mumbled and you laughed, patting his lapel down and pulling him towards his table. 

“You look powerful, trust me.” you say, perching on his table and pushing his shoulders down so that he is seated at the chair. 

You reached out for the jar of mousse and lifted his head up by his chin, so that he was at eye level with you. Without a single word, you started to adjust his curls, twisting each piece so that they fall beautifully. Poe was looking at you with his huge tempting eyes, and you looked past them, not wanting to be distracted. Once you were satisfied with his hair, you grabbed some powder and dabbed it lightly on his face. 

“Ready for your big speech?” you murmured, smoothing down his eyebrows with your fingers and letting your hands trail over the sides of his face, examining him.

He shrugged, making you nod with a grin, knowing that Poe was more of the pep talk kinda person, preferring to steer clear from large structured speeches. You placed a hand on his chest and slowly pushed him against the chair as your eyes finally met his. They were slightly hooded and he gave you all of his attention, tuning his entire body towards you. You held eye contact, determined not to falter as you started unbuttoning his uniform. You tugged it and righted his buttons, your fingers working slowly and carefully on the intricately ordained uniform. Once you were done, you turned and picked up the mirror behind you, holding it in front of Poe. 

“See you look cute” you smile from behind the mirror.

Poe’s hand came to rest atop of the mirror, slowly pushing it down to reveal your face. His eyes were glittering under the dim lights of his room and he was gazing at you with a new look on his face, one of wonder and amazement. You’d recognize the look on his face, the same face he used when he would blow up a TIE in the sky, his face ablaze in the monitor and a maddening expression that made him look like a scientist who had discovered all he wanted to know. 

“Yea, beautiful.” he whispered softly as his eyes grazed your face. 

He reached his hand out and cupped your cheek, calloused thumb tracing your jawline, making your eyes flutter close and heart quicken instantly. 

“Poe…” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him.

“So beautiful…” he was getting closer now and you could see the light dusting of pink across his nose. 

You held onto the mirror between the two of you like it was your lifeline fingers digging into its hard ridges as Poe’s nose brushed against yours softly. Suddenly a loud beep launched the both of you apart and Poe stood up from his place, turning just in time for the door to whoosh open again. 

“Found your data pa- Why are you both looking at me like that?” Finn says, holding up Poe’s data pad. 

You adjusted your expression casually at Finn’s raised eyebrow as Poe coughed and straightened his uniform. 

“Knock next time, damn.” you heard Poe murmur and you purse your lips, keeping in a laugh. 

“Time for the-”

“Right, rehearsal.” Poe said shortly, exiting the room and Finn shot you a look of surprise and followed him a second later, leaving you stunned with your own thoughts. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Poe watched you throughout the ceremony, unable to think of anything else as he watched the way you smiled lovingly at your best friend. Poe found himself replacing the bride and groom with himself and you, his hand coming up to fiddle with his mother’s ring on the necklace around his neck. You would make the most radiant bride, your smile itself would be the highlight of Poe’s day and to be the reason for that smile would be his greatest blessing. 

He got through his speech just fine, his eyes searching for everyone except you, worrying that he would stumble along the way if he looked at you. After the ceremony, he looked around for you, his mind racing at the events of the morning and wondering how it would feel to speak to you again. You weren’t anywhere near the party, and Poe had a good idea where you would be. He ran, the resistance of the wind messing up his curls again and his boots thudding against the floor. 

He stopped when he caught the sight of you, your cape billowing in the wind as you looked over the balcony at the scenery before you. You looked no short of a queen, your posture regal and your head held high. Poe was mesmerised, even more than he ever was when he had the chance to feel your lips against his moments before. He should have said something to you before he left for rehearsal, his heart now punishing him as he stared at you. 

“I know you’re behind me, Poe, I could hear your boots from a mile away.” you said humorlessly without turning around, your voice soft as it carried away in the winds. 

Poe approached you slowly, twisting his fingers slightly and taking his place beside you.

“Why?” Poe knew what you were asking and he quite frankly didn’t need you to say more.

“You saved my life, so it's undoubtedly yours.” He said softly but firmly and you turned to look at him with a shocked expression, your eyes wide, not expecting him to say what he just had said. 

“Oh Poe,” you breathed, grabbing his hand and tugging him close, claiming his lips with yours as you cupped his face with your free hand. 

His arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, sighing as his heart gave way completely. He pulled away, but one look at the way your face was flushed made him pull you back for another kiss, one that blazed something so violently inside of him that he found it hard to pull back. Eventually, he rested his forehead against yours as you held onto him, the both of you breathing in each other’s air as your hand rested against his chest, over his heart. 

“I-” you tried to say but Poe softly clamped his hand over your mouth and brought your head down to his shoulder, hugging you tightly. 

In that embrace you felt it, that glimmer of hope, the best one you had ever seen in your time with the resistance.

Reblogs are appreciated~~~

Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @in-between-the-cafes @steven-grants-world @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @autismsupermusicalassassin @alexxavicry @flordelalunas @euphoricosmo @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @lia275 @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless

[whumpbug]

you know what i need more gene and cassidy physical contact rn actually…..don’t care they can be at each other’s throats i just need it (shaking them in a little jar that is my mind)

HI MELLO i wanted to make this into a fic so. here you go. it was originally going to be a silly fluff fic but then the Voices (lem) gave me an idea and i ran with it.

i was literally Sad writing this. gene is in the trenches, the TRENCHES i say. its so bad. you get small, but meaningful physical touches and Angst.

DISCLAIMER: this is set like. a little earlier in their relationship. this is meant to be The moment that gene started realizing he perhaps Wanted this man. i'll make a timeline at some point bc the stuff i've written is not in order IM SORRY GUYS

cw: drunkenness, period-typical homphobia, internalized homphobia

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“No. No. Y’get away from me, Deputy Dipshit. Not today.” Cassidy slurred. “You ain't takin’ me away.”

He nearly fell off of the barstool when he turned to shoved an indignant finger in Gene’s direction, catching himself on the side of the counter with a small “woah!”

Gene narrowed his eyes. “Did you just call me Deputy Dipshit?”

Cassidy suddenly let out a loud snort and, this time, really did fall off the barstool with a solid thump. He only kept cackling and clutching his sides.

“Deputy Dipshit!” He cried, breaking out into another round of laughter.

“I really am sorry to bother you Delaney,” Mr. Stetson, the bartender, began. “But he was causin’ some problems and pickin’ fights. Can’t have that in my saloon.”

“Of course, sir. I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

Gene sighed.

“No! Don’t you take one step closer Delaney, I ain’t going with’ya!”

Gene took a step closer. “I ain’t gonna arrest you, Silver. Just gonna sober you up.”

“Hmm.” Cassidy squinted up at Gene, and now Gene could really see how drunk the idiot was. 

His cheeks were flushed. His hair was mussed and his eyes were half lidded and glazed over, but he had this dopey, infuriating smile plastered across his face. He was slowly getting himself to his feet, but his foot caught on a crooked plank in the floor and it sent him listing forward, and Gene rushed to meet him, catching him by the arm.

“Woah.. s’all spinny..”

“Yeah, well, moonshine’ll do that to you. Can you walk?”

“Yep.”

Only Cassidy made no move to take even a single step. Even with Gene’s large hand around his bicep, he was swaying in place, like he was rocking on a ship. 

“Jesus, Silver,” Gene breathed, pressing himself flush against Cassidy’s side and wrapping his arm around his waist. “Come on.”

Cassidy simply hummed softly and put practically all his weight on Gene. The pair staggered their way out of the saloon and into the empty street.

“Where’re we goin’?” He slurred, letting his head loll towards Gene’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna book you a room at the inn so you can sleep this off. Ain’t no point in trying to get you on your horse.”

“Mmh.. yeah.. Scotch don’t like me ridin’ drunk..”

“I’ll bet.”

The two arrived at the small inn down the street with relatively no issue, until they reached the steps. Cassidy's boots must have been made of lead, because the man simply refused to lift his feet.

Eventually Gene sighed, and lifted the man by the armpits and set him on the porch.

Gene adjusted his grip around the man’s middle and stepped up to the front desk. The woman looked up at him, unamused.

“How can I help you, Delaney?”

“Just bookin’ a room for my friend here. He had too much to drink. Anything available?”

The woman flipped through the log book before turning her deadpan gaze back to Gene.

“Third room to the right. Don’t leave a mess.”

“Yes ma’am,” Gene replied, pulling out a few bills from his wallet and depositing them on the counter. The outlaw was going to owe him.

Cassidy let out a soft groan as Gene led him down the hall. He thanked the stars that they didn’t have to climb any stairs, or else he might have had to throw the man over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes. 

Cassidy mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“I said,” He lifted his head from where it was lazily slouched over. “M’glad you’re here.”

“Weren’t you just telling me not to come near you--”

“Shaddup. I just.. Montana’s not gonna let me back in’ta camp tonight. I pissed him off.” Cassidy hiccuped lightly, letting his head fall toward Gene once again. “Would’ve slept in the woods tonight.”

Gene didn’t know what to say. Part of him felt like he wasn’t supposed to hear that in the first place.

Gene had his fair share of run-ins with Montana. The man was mean and cold. In all honesty, he sort of scared Gene. He certainly couldn't imagine being raised by the man. He was ruthless.

With Cassidy, at least Gene had a certain sense of security that he wouldn’t be shot dead at the drop of a hat. Their relationship had progressed as of late. Gene saw him less as a criminal that needed to be locked away, and more as the complicated man he was. He couldn’t quite explain it.

Maybe it was more akin to companionship that Gene would have liked to admit.

So he said nothing. He simply half-dragged Cassidy into the small room and deposited him on the bed. 

Cassidy groaned and let himself fall onto his back, blinking blearily at the ceiling.

“Why’re you helpin’ me.. in the first place,” He slurred. He didn't look away from the ceiling.

Gene began to work on removing Cassidy’s boots for him. “‘Cause we can’t have a crook out on the streets, now can we?” 

“Mmmh.. then why didn’t’ya put me away.” Cassidy hiccuped quietly.

“In jail? Guess I didn’t feel like walkin’ that far, is all,” Gene huffed. “Sit up.”

Cassidy obliged, squeezing his eyes shut at the wave of vertigo that overtook him. He swayed where he sat. Gene stepped closer, leaned closer, and began to methodically unbutton his coat for him. He could smell the liquor on his breath.

For a brief, fleeting moment, he thought that perhaps this was not something that two men should be doing together. It was intimate. Too intimate, especially for a deputy and an outlaw. 

Suddenly, Cassidy reached a clumsy hand up and found Gene’s large, calloused one. He gripped it firmly and lifted his flushed face.

“D’laney.. You.. you’re a real good guy..” He hiccuped. “Wan’ you t’know that.”

Gene felt the blush creep up his ears.

He averted his eyes. “Stop talking. You’re drunk.”

“Hah. Yeah.”

Gene worked Cassidy’s arms out of his coat and with that, the latter flopped unceremoniously onto the bed. He let out a slow, sleepy groan.

Gene huffed a small laugh and hooked the coat on the bed post. He watched Cassidy blink dazedly for a few moments.

“Turn on your side, Silver.”

Cassidy simply grunted, but didn't move.

“Christ.” Gene leaned over the bed and pulled Cassidy to lay on his right. Some hair fell over his eyes, and Gene reached up to brush it away, but--

He did not expect such a visceral pit to form in his stomach when Cassidy leaned into his hand.

The man relaxed, burying his nose into Gene’s fingers and sighing contentedly. His eyelashes fluttered against Gene's palm.

Gene's heart stopped.

Before he thought better of it, Gene gently, tenderly cupped Cassidy's cheek and ran a thumb along his cheekbone. In the dim candlelight of the room, Cassidy looked something out of a grecian myth.

Never had he seen something so beautiful. Gene thought he was going to be sick.

He snatched his hand away as if it had been burned.  

“I’ll get goin’ now,” He said hurriedly, crossing the room to the doorway in a few strides. He needed distance. He couldn’t be near that damn outlaw, not when it felt like his heart was going to beat out of goddamn chest.

Cassidy was already snoring, curled in on himself and pulling the pillows tight to his chest. He looked peaceful.

Gene felt anything but.

He shut the door behind him and bid the woman at the front desk goodnight before all but racing out of the inn. His head was spinning so much, he started to wonder if he was the drunk one.

A drink didn't sound too bad, either way.

He found a small space between buildings and sank down the wall, lowering his head. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to quell the fire that burned in his chest.

Why did he feel like this? What was wrong with him? Cassidy was a man. Cassidy was a criminal.

And yet all Gene wanted to do was march back into that room and pull Cassidy into his arms and let the world fall away. He wanted to be near him, to be with him, and that thought terrified him.

Gene’s hands flitted to the ring on his necklace. He shut his eyes.

Christ, help him.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[juppl]

𝕳𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉

A Silver x F!Reader Tale (High Fantasy AU) |Prologue| |Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3|

Chapter 2

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"Why... are we at the market? Wouldn't it be safer to be less public?" Silver inquired as he pulled his hood down a bit, just enough to place a shadow over his eyes. An elbow came flying into the side of his arm followed by a soft chuckle, "Relax! It's the docks, no one here stays long enough on land to know any of the news." Your hands went to dragging Silver aboard a docked ship that was beautifully decorated with red carpets and strung up lanterns. "Stop trying to hide so much, you'll draw more attention that way." You huffed while flicking his hood back down to his nape.

"(Y/n), my dear! How are you doing" A tall ginger haired woman greeted you warmly, quickly setting down a barrel to come properly talk. "You're so tall now, a big girl now, aren't ya? Too bad can't say the same for that hair of yours, didn't know you took your father's unfortunate hair loss." She laughed heartily as she slapped Silver's shoulder repeatedly, earning a small scoff from you in return. "I choose to keep it this short! I'm perfectly capable of growing long hair." "Sure you are dear, now enough joking around. If you came here for your father, he should be in his quarters." The older woman pointed out before slinging a heavy arm around your shoulders, quickly facing you two away. "But listen here dear..."

"If you're trying to introduce boys to him, try not to make them wanted criminals." You quickly shoved her off frantically causing her to break out into laughter again. "Does... Does he know?" She only smiled down at you before shaking her head. "Don't worry, he's slow in the head anyways. By the time he finds out you'll be long gone won't you?"

"Anyways, off with you two. Whatever your business is with my boss better be done now. Our schedule is pretty tight." She waved you both off being enough for you to run into the captain's quarters. "Papa!"

An old, large, and round man looked up from his desk, his eyes squinting through his glasses before setting them down. "Is that my beautiful princess?" His voice came out ecstatically, quickly rising from his seat to give you a tight hug. You were the one to break the hug, almost abruptly as you regained a more 'innocent' expression. "Papa, let's say I wanted a ship that's able to go to um, wherever I do want to go. Where would I get one?" Your father's smile dropped almost immediately, "Now why would you want to leave? The Queendom has all you ever need, a warm bed, good food and booze, music, and all the money you could ever want to spend." A laugh bellowed from your father who proceeded to hand you a small pouch of gold. "I know what you really want, some more allowance! You're mother wrote how much you've been eyeing those dresses at-"

"Papa please! I'm not four, it's not like I want to be a princess for a living. I want to travel and sail the world like you. When am I going to be old enough to do that?" You smiled sadly at your father while holding his hands in your own. He sighed, "The world is simply not ready for you-"

"But I am ready for it."

"There are great dangers out there"

"Oh yes, like flesh-eating dragons, and lying wicked mermaids?"

"Yes! Exactly that! You cannot possibly fathom how dangerous the world is out there. Monsters in every corner, crevice, sea, mountain, and grass. A barbaric land of beastmen that are willing to steal the clothes off your back, a land covered in thorns and evil faefolk that lure you away from your own sanity!" Your father listed off, a sort of madness in his eyes as he gripped at his own gray ends of hair.

"...Hell what even is a fae? You said when I was younger that you'd give me a chance at sailing when i was old enough, and I'm pretty old now." A wide proud smile adorned your face as you looked up to your father's more concerned one. "So when do I get a ship?" You pressed on, undeterred by your father's own warnings and claims. he let out a deep, tired sigh, "You just know how to give your old man a hard time don't you... A boat." You frowned at his offer.

"A galleon."

Your father choked out a laugh. "And wherever are you going to find enough people to manage a ship that large?! Take a row boat."

"A brigantine."

"A. Sloop." You father annunciated, leaving you both in a brief silence. Your arms crossed before coming to an agreed upon answer. "Fine. A sloop..." His large hand came ruffling through your already messy hair, a wide ear to ear smile spread across his lips. "You can start sailing after my trip. We just got another promising deal with some folks in the Shaftlands." Your mouth gaped at the time, "That's basically months!" The old man frowned at your frustration, "Well that's how it is dear. I can't just magically whip you up a nice ship just out of the blue. I'm no wizard, you'll have to wait until then. Now why don't you head back to the tavern and help your mother." He smiled as he gently pushed you out of the doorway before shutting it behind you.

"Did everything go as you had liked?" Silver asked with a curious and small smile. You had almost forgotten he was here waiting for you, oh well seems you'll have to use your second plan. "Um, it's fine! I was able to get you a possible way back to your home!" A crooked and awkward smile graced your rather concerning expression as you reassured him. He only responded with confusion, "Um.. That's great but, what about the rest of my party?"

"Hey listen! It's either you stay longer in this a kingdom that has yet to put a bounty on your head, or you get ahead of the group and get out of here first. Trust me, by the time your friends find you, you'll be either hanging or headless in a basket." Silver was taken aback by your rather disturbing claims and pondered his options. "It's my duty as a knight to protect the ones who I love and care for-"

"Yes, but you can't protect anyone if there are going to be both guards and greedy men going after that bounty over your head." You groaned, hanging your head tiredly at the thought of how much work you're putting into trying to save a random guy who barely even saved you from a tavern brawl. But then again, there was something about him that was so alluring... probably the eyes, most definitely the eyes you thought. Your squinting eyes making Silver nervously glance between you and his surroundings.

"So... what exactly were you planning to do again?" Silver broke your train of thought, "Oh, right!" You quickly pointed over to a small crowd of men and women who seemed to cheer and ogle at a rather small display of magic. "Further over there is where the more magical sides of the market are. If I counted right, I should have enough gold now to ask for voyage on one of the wizard's airships." Determination filled your eyes as you clutched the pouch of coins in your hands. "Don't worry about your friends though, you can leave a note for them with Miss Diamond back on the ship. If they happen to pass by, she'll let them know of your whereabouts." Silver smiled in relief at this news, giving you a curt nod before following you down into the bustling market crowd.

●・○・●・○・●

"Huh, a guy with a sword? Yeah he was here. Took my niece right with him too!" The drunk woman scoffed angrily before downing another mug of beer.

Sebek's brow twitched at the thought along with the other two fae looking at each other in surprise. "Why is Silver fooling around with women now?!" Sebek whispered angrily to the two, almost seeming appalled at the thought. Lilia could only huff, "At the very least we've got something on his whereabouts."

"I didn't know you taught him to act such a way." Malleus mused at the thought of the chivalrous knight letting loose to explore the more exciting factors in life. "Stop putting all the blame on me! You've had just the same amount of effort put into raising that boy too." Lilia huffed angrily at the tall fae. Your mother could only watch in annoyance, were all faefolk this weird?

"If you men are done, I would like to note that your boy still took my daughter. If you don't find him and have him return her to me, then I might as well put you all on his bounty as well for being accomplices." Your mother sneered, causing the green haired man to answer in offense. "We've never! How dare such a lowly human as you threaten the likes of our King-" Lilia abruptly interrupted, putting an end to Sebek's shouting with just a simple push. "We're sorry for the trouble ma'am, we meant no harm to come to you and your daughter and our Silver would never do anything rash to put her in harm's way." Malleus nodded along, "Rest assured your daughter is in good hands, and once we find our friend you and your daughter will be safely reunited."

The woman in the dirtied apron could only hold back a sneer before waving them off. "Fine, but just know just because you're high fae doesn't mean you'll be let off easy." She stormed off, serving tray in hand.

"I think she's rather nice." Lilia noted with a cheeky grin.

"There was a ring on her finger Lilia." Malleus replied

"Not what I meant!"

●・○・●・○・●

"Where did they go?!" A putrid old man interrogated as he pressed a gun barrel against Miss Diamond's head, her frizzled orange hair hung low from her sweat cover face. Your father laid there injured and panting for air as he pressed a hand to his bloodied abdomen. "I know they came here, witnesses saw!" The old man pressed on, not showing any signs of back off.

"I told you we don't know! A lot of similar people come and go buying things from here all the time." She gritted as she glared back up towards the man, his other wrist bandaged and bloodied from having lost a hand. Another man came a held a dagger up to your father's neck, pressing it hard enough just to make his apple bob. "Oh but I'm sure you know them, especially the young lady, she's your little princess isn't she, Erik?"

"That was a girl?"

"Oh shut up!"

"So what's it gonna be? Gonna tell us where your traitor of a daughter went? We can make it easier for you, We'll just kill the Silver haired freak and let your daughter go." He continued on, his free hand came to tap the old, wounded man's shoulder slowly. "I... didn't see... any boy." He answered in between breaths. "Please stop this Harry, we're friends." Your father pleaded as he brought his hand up to clutch at his attacker's arm. "A shame, we would've been if you weren't such a coward." He nodded his head towards the handless man, signaling him to end it there.

Yet, there was no response other than him choking on his own blood before collapsing to the ship's bloodied deck. "Diamond put the gun-!" Harry screaming ceased as a loud bang and hole appeared in his head. "Shit are you alright boss?!" She choked out as she ran towards the wounded old man. "I'm fine... I'll managed." She sighed as she wrapped a torn piece of cloth around his waist, helping him to his feet immediately after. "Say diamond, was there really that kind of boy with my daughter just then?" Your father coughed out softly as he looked down at her. Her lips pursed, as if contemplating something. "Don't worry too much, she's in safe hands. Let's just get you healed though."

"Hm..." He hummed quietly, his brows furrowed in deep thought. As if, he was actually, angry...?

[snugglebug-mj-blog]

The betrayal Chapter 3

Bowser x female reader

As soon as the dining room doors were opened y/n saw 8 koopalings yelling over each other at the large dining table. "Quiet!" Bowser yelled They all looked over at Bowser and Y/n."y/n dear meet my kids Larry, Morton, Wendy, Iggy, Roy, Lemmy, Ludwig and Bowser Jr" Bowser said, suddenly all the koopalings pointed at y/n "It's you!" They yelled in unison y/n blinked for a second then it dawned on her. "I SAVED YOUR KIDS?!" Y/n yelled as she quickly looked up at Bowser who smiled down at her "Yes. I've liked you for a while. I only kidnapped Peach to get closer to you then my children told me you saved them from Mario's rage and the fire. I knew you would be the perfect wife and mother." Bowser said confidently.

~Flashback~

Fire was everywhere. Bowser had just kidnapped Peach again and everything was up in flames. Y/n and Luigi were looking through the burning building trying to find Mario or anyone else that was trapped. Soon y/n and Luigi came to the throne room where Mario was yelling at some koopalings "We have to get them out before the fire gets worse! Jump from the window" Y/n said running past Luigi. Mario had cornered the koopalings y/n shoves him "This place is going up in smoke, get your angry head out of the clouds!" Y/n growled as she shoved him before Mario could say anything Luigi grabbed him and started pulling him towards the window. Y/n turned towards the 8 koopalings "Look we have to get out of here unless you want to go up in flames ok?" Y/n asked, coughing a little "we don't listen to you!" The grey koopaling growled before y/n spoke she saw a piece of wood falling towards the koopalings she quickly got closer to them and caught the falling wood the koopalings looked shocked. "Look, we don't have time to argue, we have to go now!" Y/n huffed as she threw the wood to the side. The koopalings nodded before going to the window suddenly the girl koopalings foot got stuck "Go! I'll help her!" Y/n yelled as she leaned down keeping the young koopaling get her foot unstuck but the other koopalings stayed near. Y/n quickly picked up the girl before looking at the window where the other koopalings where she huffed "Sorry about this!" Y/n said before running full force arm spread out grabbing all the koopalings somehow and falling out the window. All the koopalings held on to y/n tightly as they fell, soon they landed on something soft and squishy they had landed on a mushroom house's roof. The koopalings quickly let go of y/n and ran to their ship as y/n ran to find the Bros.

~end of flashbacks~

Y/n was shocked "hehe well it's nice to actually meet y'all and not jumping out a window" y/n said rubbing the back of her neck. Bowser picked y/n up and walked over towards the table placing her in the chair beside his. Y/n looked at the koopalings and then Bowser before smiling to herself and digging into the dinner listening to the koopalings talk about their day and activities. 'i hate my cousin but I'll have to thank him one day..' y/n thought to herself.

[eruverse]

indoned, monkaz, spaport 🌚

🌞❤️

Indoned (Top Indo/Bottom Ned):

Actually it goes beyond the scale.

RRGRGRGEGG this ship. FUCK Indonesians are cursed but — speaking abt this ship in general, as a pair, like we’re not even speaking abt who’s top or bottom here — this is a ship condoned and shipped by abt 85% of Indonesians in the fandom, and having been considered by 100% us even if 15% of us don’t ship it in the end for various reason. If there’s any real big fight between us? It’s abt the freaking positions for God’s sake, not even rly abt why we are shipping it (the latter is more easily repressed lol).

Since I’ve seen ppl hating on colonizer/colony ships, let me just tell anyone out there that if you are a FOREIGNER, if you don’t have INDO PASSPORT or INDO ANCESTRY, and you’re hating on IDNLID just because it’s “problematic” or because “it’s not morally correct”, your opinions are simply invalid and you can shove them up your asses. You have NO place to speak. Go be morally correct on other ships, but not this one. This one is OUR territory, and foreigners are not privy. Obviously tho, if you simply don’t like the ship for aesthetic reasons or if you maybe already ship Indo or Ned with someone else, I don’t care abt it. But I will NOT have foreigners impose any sense of morality to our faces and act all patronizing).

Anyway. Like yes of course it makes sense. Regardless of history and whatnot, we largely see Netherlands as ‘ours’ by way of historical link. This is to the extent of intertwining our sense of identity with Netherlands, for better or worse. You cannot take Netherlands away from our independence struggles if you want them to have any meaning in the first place. This simply is enough to make any other Indo ship pale in significance to this one, for ME.

Also yeah Indo tops because Ned prefers bottoming for him, bby ❤️

MonKaz:

It doesn’t really compel me anymore simply because now I have better Kazakhstan ship 🌝 but ANYWAY they make a lot of sense due to ancestral/historical links. They’re also neighbors and know each other fairly well. They’re indeed more on the quiet side by way of bilateral relationship but they still keep tabs on each other and say hi every once in a while. But!! I think that’s exactly why they can manage to have human/casual relationship, as in interacting without any politics etc really holding them back. It’s sweet, and one with a lot of potential. Also yeah technically Kazakhstan is Mongolia’s grandson, so if you don’t like it well… your loss!!

Spaport:

UUUUUDHDUDUSJDJKSDHJDJD

Love them love love ❤️❤️❤️❤️ similar but different, sun and moon, day and night, my reflection in the mirror looking into my eyes ❤️ no one understands them more than the other ❤️

So. Neighbors, similar ancestry (brothers if you ask me), historical link… they’re intertwined in every way. Also probably they exchanged rosaries. HHHHHH

[jaskierswolf]

Helo love, for your shape shifter AU, does shedding season hit Jaskier as well in his various forms? 👀❤️

Shedding New Light

Ship: Geraskier Rating: T Summary: In which Geralt discovers something new about his shifter boyfriend

Set after the first part of my shifter!Jaskier AU. You only really need to know that Jaskier is a shifter that can turn into many different animals, and he's just started dating Geralt during their first winter at Kaer Morhen together.

_

Geralt was used to waking up in uncomfortable places. It was all part of the witcher life. If he wasn't caught out in the rain and the cold, then he was being thrown out of inns and brothels at dawn. Travelling with Jaskier had made things a little easier, but today, Jaskier was the problem. Geralt woke up struggling to breathe, a lump of coppery thick fur lying on his chest. He growled and tried to shove the wolf to the floor but it didn't help. Jaskier snorted in his sleep and rolled onto his back, four paws in the air.

"Get off," Geralt grumbled to no avail. 

The shifter was either dead asleep or being a stubborn little shit. Only the gods could tell which. Sighing, Geralt started to run his hands through his boyfriend's fur. It was thick and warm, a perfect cover in the cold winter nights that plagued Kaer Morhen, but when Geralt pulled his hand away, tufts of fur stuck between his fingers. 

"What the fuck?" He muttered more to himself than Jaskier.

Another few seconds of stroking through Jaskier's fur had chunks of the coppery strands all over Geralt's bed. It floated through the air, dancing in the streaks of sunlight that were bursting through the window. The bastard was moulting. 

"Jaskier!" 

The shifter snorted. 

"Jask, get up!" 

Blue eyes finally fluttered open, narrow as they peered at Geralt, clearly displeased. One large paw smacked Geralt in the face, and then Jaskier was asleep once more.

It took another five minutes, and the promise of a hunt to get Jaskier to finally wake up and slide off Geralt. By that point, Geralt was near bursting for a piss, and he was covered, head to toe, in wolf fur. Usually he loved to wake up beneath his lover, but choking on dog hair was not the death that he'd imagined. Geralt glared at Jaskier, who was sitting next to him, wagging his tail, and then rolled his eyes. 

"What am I going to do with you?" 

Jaskier howled, pouncing up at Geralt. His paws landed on Geralt's shoulders as his tongue lapped at Geralt's face, rough and slobbery.

"Yes, yes. I love you too," Geralt sighed as he scratched Jaskier behind the ears. More hair floated down to the ground as he did so. "Can you change into something a little less hairy?"

Jaskier let out a low growl, mouthing at Geralt's chin, and then with a crack of bones, shifted into a robin. There was a flurry of feathers as he flitted around the room. As far as Geralt was aware, robins didn't even moult during the winter months, and yet wherever Jaskier flew, feathers fell behind him. He chirped happily, and then landed on Geralt's head. A single feather floated down. Geralt huffed. The feather landed on his nose and he blew it away. 

"What about human, Jask?" 

No sooner had Geralt spoken, than he found himself with a naked bard perched on his shoulders. Jaskier barely fit in the room without hitting his head, and after a few awkward seconds of shifting and rearranging, he was settled in Geralt's arms. 

"You, sir, are grumpy in the mornings," Jaskier grumbled, poking Geralt on the nose.

"Only when my boyfriend is moulting all over my room," Geralt countered.

Jaskier scoffed. "Rude!"

Rolling his eyes, Geralt ruffled Jaskier’s hair only to be greeted with another cloud of hair. “Urgh! Fuck!”

In response, Jaskier just cackled before capturing Geralt’s lips with his own. The kiss was chaste, and the taste was unpleasant, but Geralt still found himself smiling against Jaskier’s lips. Love was new and exciting. Even if he was covered in hair. But he’d promised to love Jaskier in all his forms, and with all his weird and wonderful quirks. The moulting was unexpected, but it was something he was willing to live with.

[rose-of-oz]

NEW THEME NEW THEME

also new opla oc?? SPILL -🍂

NEW THEME YES!! I've probably been due for one for a while, honestly, but when I saw Rachel Zegler as Lucy Grey Baird I was just like, yes (😅). Anyway, I'm glad you like it!!

And yes, I would be more than happy to tell you about my new babe! Here goes:

So, for starters, her name is Hayashi Lark and she's a Sanji ship, because I do love that gruff kickass cook. A lark, if you didn't know, is a bird that's pretty well-known for its beautiful song, but also for the fact that they don't sing while in captivity. As you may imagine, there is some symbolism going on with the name here.

Lark has been a singer employed by the World Government since she was very young - her parents were both governors of a relatively large village, and when their daughter began to show serious talent with singing from a very young age, they immediately put her in vocal lessons and lessons for various different instruments, and, when they deemed her trained enough, began to trot her out to sing at public events and at get-togethers with other Government officials. When Lark was nine, her parents both died from a bad fever that had ravaged the whole village, and since she had no other family to take her in, she was given over to the care of the World Government, and several officials remembered her performing at Government dinners and were like, "You know what? Let's turn this little nine-year-old girl into a showpony!".

And so it goes - from the age of nine, Lark is shoved into pretty dresses and shipped all across the several oceans, performing at Marine bases to boost morale. Most of the songs she sings are boring and mainly focused on how brave and just all Marines are, propaganda songs written by the Government itself, but she also writes her own songs, though most of them are much too focused on freedom and rebellion for her to be allowed to sing them onstage. She's also fascinated with pirate songs and sea shanties, the kind Marines would never be allowed to sing; whenever she can escape her handlers, she'll go looking for any place in a given village she thinks might have information on them and writes down whatever lyrics and notes she can find, saving them in a beat-up notebook that she takes with her everywhere. She wants nothing more than to escape the life of borderline captivity that she's been living and learn to play and sing as many pirate songs as she can, and maybe even write some of her own, but for a very long time that feels impossible.

And this, as you may have suspected, is where Luffy and company come in. In between Syrup Village and Baratie, they dock at the village Lark is currently performing in to pick up some extra supplies and stop to see her show in the town square. They're all really taken with her voice and presence onstage, but Luffy, being Luffy, can tell that she doesn't actually want to be doing any of this, and approaches her to offer her a place on the crew, or at least to help her get away from the Government and take her someplace else. Lark immediately accepts the place on the Straw Hats - after all, what better way to learn more pirate songs that to be on an actual pirate crew? - and with some moderate difficulty, they manage to collect the few belongings Lark wants to take with her, including her notebook and guitar, and escape on the Straw Hats' ship.

Now, when they get to Baratie and Luffy winds up being taken as a chore boy, Lark offers to pay off their dinner debt by doing a show at the restaurant. Zeff doesn't want a singer in his place, but agrees to let Lark sing one song in exchange for a month off of Luffy's sentence. Lark sings one of the only pirate songs she knows in full, actually managing to quiet the whole restaurant full of rowdy pirates with her voice, and Sanji takes one look at her while she's singing and goes, Oh, I'm in love. And though finding the All Blue is still Sanji's dream and main motivation, he will admit that some part of the reason he left Baratie with the crew was wanting to get to know Lark better.

Aaaand that's about all I have for her so far!! It might be a bit before I have a proper intro post for her, but if anyone wants to ask me more questions in the meantime, feel free!!

(Tagging the other OPLA girlies @starcrossedjedis and @auxiliarydetective!!)

[cursedalthoughts]

PR6 PREDICTIONS - Northern Parliament

Honestly, I am surprised it took us until PR5 to get any Northern Parliament PR. Wargaming does love their imaginary Soviet warships, and they notoriously love shoving them all around the place; so I genuinely expected them to arrive at AL earlier. But no, the first one was Chkalov.

They have a lot of choices, some of them redundant, some of them would make some of their existing ships redundant, and some of them original. I am not going to speculate on which ones could be PR or DR because it's always a 50/50 chance with these.

As always: I would not bet on any of these. These are just the ones I believe to be likely to be added, if we ever get another Northern Parliament PR.

Borodino

A fast battlecruiser with a surprisingly shitty main armament arrangement, and even more awful secondary gun layout.

Borodino has 2 triple 406mm turrets that are almost identical to those found on the Soyuz. She also has 2 dual 180mm turrets on the back. That's it. She's weak when it comes to firepower.

However, where Borodino excells is at bow-tanking (this will be a theme for all Soviet battleships btw). With some clever island cover and angling, you can tank pretty much all damage thrown at you.

Lenin

Borodino, but better, and funnier.

Her turrets (and her rifles) aren't as advanced as Soyuz, they are Vladivostok-type, meaning they are less accurate and the shells are slower. And her side armor is good on paper, but bad on practice.

With her 3 triple 406mm on the front, however (and the middle one being able to rotate 360º), she can fire her 9 very hard hitting shells in a very tight grouping (meaning, with very little dispersion).

Slava

A larger Soyuz with a ludicrous main gun range and an even more insane almost laser-accurate dispersion.

This thing is a sniper. She puts Champagne or Yamato to shame, in my opinion only Satsuma (a Superbattleship variant of the Yamato) is better.

Unlike Kremlin, she has 406mm, but that hardly matters when these guns hit 90% of the time compared to 60% of the time Kremlin fires.

Kremlin

The less accurate half-sister of Slava.

However, she has 457mm guns instead of 406mm. That's more considerable.

Petropavlovsk

A large cruiser notorious for having 220mm guns that hit as hard as Bismarck's 380mm guns (because she is Very Balanced, yes. Balansk). Petropavlovsk is a fast large cruiser with turrets that can all rotate 360º, with radar and hydroacoustic search, that can and will fuck you up if she fires at you.

Oh, btw, get ready for a lot of Soviet supercruisers.

Sevastopol

"But we already got Sebastopol?"

Yeah. Maybe they could add her with a different name, but now she's Sevastopol.

A half-sister of the Kronshtdadt that replaces her 305mm guns with actual, legit German dual 380mm guns. And funnily enough, this ship is more historically accurate than Kronshtdadt (at least from what I've seen). Honestly, I don't know if we could get her as a PR; maybe a gacha UR with a different name due to how historically accurate she is, but I would love a PR version of her due to her gimmick.

She's a zombie ship. She can heal around 50% of all the damage she takes.

Normally, only damage caused by HE can be mostly healed in WoWs, with AP damage being more severe and permanent. Sevastopol works differently, she can heal almost all damage of all types; but her heal ability is very contrived and has to be utilized properly lest it gets wasted, as she only has 2 charges and the heal lasts, like, a minute or two (can't remember). Normal heals last 30, maybe 40 seconds.

Stalingrad

The Ultimate Cruiser Spanker.

The Stalingrad is yet another large cruiser. This one is also surprisingly historically accurate.

She excells at removing enemy cruisers from the map. Her AP hits incredibly hard and has flat shell arcs, meaning it can find the citadel of close-range ships very easily (something American ships don't tend to have).

She has the usual suite of radar + hydro + good AA.

Ochakov

An HE spamming light cruiser that isn't very good at HE spamming.

She has 4 dual 152mm turrets. Her shells are nice and she reloads somewhat quickly, but she only has 8 cannons. Mainz has 12 and takes less than one more second to reload (and has more range). The only good thing about her is the usual Soviet combo of radar + hydro, but honestly, she's irremarkable. Even if I love her.

She would be somewhat similar to Chapayev, but better.

Grozovoi

A sneaky Soviet destroyer oriented towards smokescreens, hiding and setting fires.

I don't play destroyers. I don't know what to say, but I would love her in AL.

[seonsong]

on a crowded street in 1944...

Fandom: Live Up To Your Name | Rating: Teen and up | Ship: Choi Yeon Kyung/Heo Im | AO3

It’s the end of another long and tiring day when he shows up at her doorstep with an invitation — does she want to go to a bar?

She tells him she’s not sure, she’s kind of exhausted from the train ride and moving in.

He insists. It’s no fun drinking alone, and what is she going to do in a house full of strangers anyway?

Drink some tea and go to sleep, she tells him, but he isn’t taking no for an answer. She groans and rolls her eyes, but goes inside to get her coat and purse.

“How can you want to be outside in this cold?” she asks, shivering, as they step from the courtyard of the guest house out onto the street.

“A few drinks will warm us up.”

“My blankets and the hot tea I was going to make would’ve warmed me up.”

“Come on now, the night is young,” he says to her, playfully elbowing her in the arm.

“But I’m not,” she grumbles while pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. “I’m not fit for tomfoolery like this at my age.”

“You talk as if you were a shriveled up old lady when you’re only thirty-four.”

“Well, maybe when you’re my age, Yoo Jae-ha, you’ll understand.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.”

Yeon Kyung laughs at his pouting face and shoves her hands into her coat pockets. “Where exactly are you planning on taking me, anyway?”

“Just a little place a couple blocks from here.”

“It sounds dreadful. Do they serve soju, at least?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“But enough about the bar,” says Jae-ha, quickening his pace in order to face her as they walk. “How was your train ride over?”

She shrugs. “Eh, you know. It was a train ride. Cramped. Nauseating. Frequently delayed.”

“Sounds like one of your better experiences.”

“Compared to the last one, yes. God, it was hot that time. I was sick for three days straight afterwards.”

“I know it well,” he chuckles ruefully.

She shudders at the recollection. “So compared to that, I suppose it was all right.”

They’re silent for a minute after that, focusing instead on moving as quickly as possible to their destination.

“You know,” speaks Yeon Kyung at last, “much as I hate Tokyo, it sure is infinitely better than being at the outpost.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” he agrees.

“Surrounded by all those dreadful Japanese men.”

“Yes.”

“Constantly in fear of being kidnapped and sold into the slave trade.”

“Sleeping with one eye open, I suppose.”

“With two!” she corrects him, laughing sardonically. “In Tokyo, it’s with one, but out there… oh, my. When they canceled my leave in October, I thought I was a goner for sure.”

“And yet, here you are now. Five months really is too long to be kept from your home.”

“Nearly half a year.”

Jae-ha nods. “Indeed— Though you really should be grateful for what you have. Millions of our people have no freedom whatsoever, and you get to come and go and have a paying job and live in relative peace when you're not at the outpost.”

Her pace slows at this. “That's true. Although the fear is always there, now isn't it?”

“Well, not right now,” he proclaims, quickening his pace to encourage hers. “You're in Tokyo! You're out on the town! Not a soldier for miles! You get two whole weeks to do whatever you want!”

“Yeah. I guess I'll drink to that,” she grumbles.

“That's the spirit! And perfect timing,” says Jae-ha, signaling toward a run-down building across the street. “We’re here.”

“Oh, my, it looks even more dreary than I expected.”

“Never mind that, in we go!” he cheers, gently pushing Yeon Kyung along.

The bar is dimly lit, empty save for a couple chatting quietly in the far corner, and smells faintly of water damage, but a fireplace crackling comfortingly in the back warms the whole place, and the large bartender stands polishing some glasses in front of a surprisingly large assortment of wines, beers, and sake.

“I don't see the soju you promised,” mutters Yeon Kyung.

“All right, just hang on a second. Lee Doseong, how about a bottle of soju for the lovely lady?”

The bartender looks up, and his face brightens. “Yoo Jae-ha! Welcome, welcome. Coming right up.”

Jae-ha grins at Yeon Kyung. “See? Go on, sit down.”

“Okay,” she sighs, sliding onto a barstool and smiling her thanks as Doseong the bartender hands her a shot glass and pulls a soju bottle out from under the counter.

“I'm going to stop by the washroom,” Jae-ha tells Yeon Kyung, heading for the door in the back of the bar. “Save me a glass.”

“Yep.”

She downs her first shot of soju and sighs, letting it sink in. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices that the man that was in the washroom before Jae-ha has sat on the barstool next to her. He acknowledges her with a quiet “annyeong,” and she gives a tight-lipped smile in return.

Doseong notices her gloomy air. “Rough week?”

“Exhausting,” she sighs. “But at least I get to rest for two weeks now.”

He nods. “Rest is good.”

“Lee Doseong-ssi,” asks Yeon Kyung, pouring herself another glass, “how long have you lived in Japan?”

“Since the occupation began,” he answers. “Thirty-four years now.”

Her eyes widen when she hears the number. “Dear god. That’s my entire life. It must have been difficult.”

“It was at first,” he agrees. “Very difficult. It was already hard to be working at the factory — they weren’t exactly treating me well, as you can imagine — and I missed my family like you have no idea. The days and years really bear down on you, living like that.”

Yeon Kyung winces. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. But as you can see,” he answers, gesturing around at the bar, “things got better. Eventually. I suppose, in retrospect, I’ve been luckier than most.”

“Yes.” Luckier than most. The words ring in her head like an accusation as she nods slowly. “Maybe Yoo Jae-ha was right.”

“What about?”

“He says I should stop complaining about my job at the outpost and be grateful I'm not in a factory — or chained up in some camp as a ianfu.”

“Ahh. You work at the outpost?"

“Yes. I’m a nurse. Or, well, that is—” She pauses and considers. “Well, for simplicity’s sake, then yes, let’s just say that. I'm a nurse at the outpost.”

He whistles. “That’s not an easy job — even in peacetime, but much less now. You’re perfectly welcome to come here and complain anytime you feel like it.”

Yeon Kyung smiles, genuinely, for the first time that night. “Thank you, Lee Doseong-ssi.”

Two more customers enter just then, and Doseong moves to greet and attend to them, so she turns her attention back to her soju glass and lifts it to her lips.

“He's right, you know,” chimes in another voice, and Yeon Kyung stops mid-sip to look at the man sitting on her right. “What you suffer is what you suffer. No one can tell you not to feel exhausted, or sad.”

“Or scared,” she adds, almost unconsciously. “Being surrounded by men like that all the time is terrifying. It’s essentially a miracle that I haven’t been… well. You know.”

“Yes,” he answers softly.

The conversation lulls, and Yeon Kyung shifts self-consciously, her cheeks flushing red. “Ahem— sorry. That might’ve been a bit too much.”

“No need to worry,” he says reassuringly. “It seemed like you needed to let that out.”

“Yes, perhaps I did.” She offers an apologetic smile. “Thank you. It is good to talk about it. And Jae-ha isn’t the best person to complain to.”

“This Jae-ha doesn’t work at the outpost, I presume?”

“No,” she says, reaching once again for her soju. “No, he works at an oriental clinic here in the city.”

The man nods. “I see. Well, then, do tell your friend to be a little more understanding and let you talk about your troubles more freely. I dare say you’ve earned it.”

“I dare say I have,” grins Yeon Kyung from behind her glass before emptying it.

“Noona,” comes Jae-ha’s voice from behind them, “is this guy bothering you?”

Yeon Kyung jumps slightly as she turns to look at him.

“No, not at all,” she answers, pushing her hair behind her ear. “We were just talking.”

Jae-ha seems somewhat unconvinced, like he wants to say something more, but he only eyes the stranger briefly, then nods and sits down on the barstool to the left of Yeon Kyung.

“Here,” she tells him, shoving the bottle of soju into his hand. “Lee Doseong-*ssi*, can I get a glass for Yoo Jae-ha?”

As if her words are a cue, the man on her right downs what remains of his wine glass and sets it down. “I believe I’ll get going,” he says — partly to Yeon Kyung, partly to himself. She nods at him in acknowledgement.

“So this is Yoo Jae-ha,” says the man under his breath, eyeing Yeon Kyung’s companion, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink as she hears him.

“Did you say something?” asks Jae-ha, turning to look at him, but the man reassumes his smile and shakes his head.

“Just talking to myself,” he grins, reaching for his coat on the rack by the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss…”

“Choi Yeon Kyung,” she answers, dipping her head slightly. “And you were…?”

“Heo Im,” he introduces himself with a similar gesture.

This gets Jae-ha’s attention. “Heo Im?” he questions, turning once again to face him. “Like the famous Joseon physician?”

He laughs shortly. “Yes, just like that. Good night,” he bids them, ducking out the door before any more can be said.

Yeon Kyung and Jae-ha watch as the stranger leaves an empty doorframe in his wake, both uttering the same opinion — “how interesting.”

[jeyne-stark]

considering myself tagged by @owlsinathens

WIP WORD SEARCH GAME

My words are ship | frown | mother | black | ice

ship

the Harlaw AU: where Theon tells Sansa to go to Harlaw after she escapes from Ramsay

Sansa stumbled off of the ship, her legs weak. She was so glad to be back on solid ground. The baby hadn’t liked being on the ship anymore than she did, she thought, it was always kicking and shoving inside her like it was having a tantrum.

“We’re on land now,” she told it softly, a hand on her belly. The baby did not decide to stop its tantrum.

frown

pirates!: some pirates attack Joffrey's ship and their captain kidnaps his betrothed

Her cabin was just a touch smaller than Theon’s, and unadorned, aside from the carvings on the walls. There was a bed, an empty chest, and a hand mirror and a hair brush sitting on a low shelf. She wondered if it was Theon who thought to include them. Probably; he did mention that he prepared the cabin for her, and she didn’t think there were any other women on board.

She peeled off the too-tight gown, frowning at the angry red lines left on her skin, and lay in the bed, trying to fall asleep. It was far more comfortable than the floor of that cell would have been, especially with Joffery’s ravings in the background, and the rocking of the ship was oddly comforting, but she found herself staring at the ceiling nevertheless.

Usually her thoughts would turn to her family on nights like this, but instead they turned to Theon and his offer—his hand gentle around hers, his eyes sincere as he promised that no harm would come to her. She certainly couldn’t have said yes to him, but perhaps…if he had insisted…

mother

arranged: Jeyne is married off to Robb, who is a werewolf

Jeyne fidgeted with her embroidery, her needle never managing to come up in the right place. It was nerves. Mother had refused to tell her anything much, always claiming that she didn’t want Jeyne to worry, but Jeyne knew Father had debts and that Mother was trying to get them some more time to pay them off.

She didn’t want to think about how Mother would get them more time. Her dowry had already been used to try to pay back the loans, Eleyna’s too. They just didn’t have any more money. Even the family jewels—all their valuables, nearly everything that they had, and it was barely enough to keep their creditors at bay. What would they ask next?

The wheels of the carriage rattled on the cobblestones, and Mother swept into the foyer, looking pleased. Jeyne felt a careful bloom of hope. If they had been granted more time, they might be able to pay off the debts and avoid complete ruin.

“Jeyne, darling, you’re getting married!”

black

nostos: in which Theon and Sansa are lost in the woods

“What are you doing here?” someone roared. Sansa yelped and spun on her heel. A broad, stocky man stood in the doorway. His black, wide-brimmed hat hid his face, save for his cropped beard, shot with grey. The lantern on his belt was lit, shining through the early evening dark. He held an axe in one hand and a bundle of firewood in the other.

“My apologies, good ser,” Sansa said with a shallow curtsey. “The door opened when I knocked, and I was worried about the fire.”

His face softened. “These woods are no place for children,” he said, coming in to the mill-house. He set his axe and firewood on a table, and hung his wide hat on a hook. His grey eyes were gentle. “What are you two doing here?”

“We got lost. We’re trying to get home,” Sansa said, at the same time that Theon protested that he wasn’t a child.

“You’re more lost than you realize,” the miller said. “Come in. The night is dark here.”

ice

after many tempests, the quiet port: a season 7/8 au that desperately needs a rewrite to make the plot make sense (what else is new)

“Did I ever tell you how I got this scar?” He gestured to the large scar across his jaw, as though he had any other noticeable scars.

“Several times.” There was a song about it. Even Jeyne knew the song—Dagmer had sung it for them one night, at Jeyne’s request.

Dagmer clicked his tongue sharply. “Well, you’ll just have to hear it again. It was many years ago, when I was out on my first raid as a captain of my own ship. We were near the coast of the Stony Shore, about to raid a town, when we saw sails on the horizon.”

Theon hid his smile at the familiar turns of the story, the affection in Dagmer’s voice as he described the captain who buried her axe in his face.

“What a woman,” he said, “she must have been born in an ice-storm to have eyes that cold.”

Theon had always wondered if she was why he never married; if he had loved her so entirely that no other woman could compare.

Tagging @partialconstellations, @istaricelebelasse, @ladycatofwinterfell, @silentstep and anyone else who wants to participate with the words

rose | cloud | sleep | red | legacy

[fruitypinapple00]

Travel and arrival

This is my first post so please comment what you think <3

I’ve never written anything like this before so please offer pointers if you have any!

Anyways let’s get right to it!

••••••••••••••••••••••

854 whimpered softly as it’s box jerked roughly to the side. It couldn’t even put his hands up to protect his face from the impact, handler Jake had tied pet’s hands behind his back before it was pushed down into the cramped box. Luckily it’s face didn’t hit the wall, pet didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it’s new master opened their box and their new toy had blood all over it’s face.

The box was cramped and hot. So Hot. Pet tried to calm itself down, yes it is getting a new master but master won’t want a panicky fidgety pet. It needed to be calm. Sweet. Good pets make their masters happy.

Pet took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly pushing the air out of it’s nose. Just like handler Jake had taught it to.

The truck slowed and came to a stop, is this it? Is this the stop that pet finally gets dropped off at? The loud door rolled up and someone jumped up into the truck.

Sadly, that was not 854’s stop. Nor was the next, or the next, or the one after that. Pet was getting more and more anxious by the minute and it was getting increasingly hard to calm down.

…

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened, the now familiar dip. But this time his box was shoved forwards a bit. He gasped softly in surprise, this was pet’s stop? After all this time! It nearly squirmed in excitement. Pet is not to move from it’s position. Handler Jake had made that very clear before shipping. Slow breaths, pet needs to be calm, not scared or excited, master will want it to be calm. Even if pet’s mind was full of thoughts and emotions, master will want calm. It could do that.

854 nearly yelped as it’s box was dropped on, assumedly, a doorstep. A doorbell rang and pet heard the door open just as the truck pulled away. The person at the door picked up the box, pet knew that it’s body was light but wow! Master must be strong!

Master must be strong.. master could definitely throw pet around if he was this strong. Master could hurt the small pet easily.

No! Pet can’t go into this with too much fear. Pet needs to breathe. Maybe master will be nice! Master is strong so master can protect his small pet! How kind!

There are a few voices outside the walls of the box. Too muffled to make out much of what they’re saying. Its okay, pet doesn’t need to know.

The lid jerked away from the box and the pet laid perfectly still, just as it knew it should. The blindfold wrapped around its eyes prevented it from seeing the people around the box.

“Blake, go get a bath ran for him.” A voice says smoothly. Large but gentle hands lifted him out of the box. They lifted to his head and slipped the blindfold off of pet’s eyes.

Pet blinked a few times but kept it’s eyes lowered respectfully to the ground.

A hand, a new one, gently grabbed pet’s chin and lifted it’s face up to look the man, the pet, in the eyes.

There were other pets here? There were several other pets it quickly realized. 854’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and looked back to the pet holding his face.

“Hey there” he said with a small smile

“H-hello” pet managed, it’s voice dry and raspy from dehydration and disuse.

“Here” the pet said placing a glass at pet’s lips, tipping it slightly so the cool liquid poured into pet’s mouth. Thankfully, the pet swallowed it and let it’s eyes slip closed as the craved drink passed over his dry, swollen tongue.

“Good job” the other pet says softly as 854 finishes the water.

Pet smiles slightly at the praise.

“Let’s get you settled in, then we’ll have a proper introduction. What do ya think?” The large pet who had obviously carried him inside said with a smile.

“Yes, sir” 854 says softly.

“Ah, no, no im a pet too hun. It’s alright.”

“Sorry” 854 says as quietly as before

“It’s okay, just relax, you’ll be okay.”

Another pet ran back into the room, “the bath is all ready, Brad” he says to the large pet.

854 took a second to look at all of the pets, there was 5 pets in this room alone, with no master in sight. Were the pets allowed to do this without master present? These pets were scary. 854 could never act this way, handler Jake would have torn pet apart if it acted so human-like.

“All right, c’mon” brad, the strong pet, says standing up. 854 knew better than to try and follow, especially with it’s limbs still held together by the ribbon. Pet knew it could, essentially, easily get out of the bindings but also knew the consequences of doing something like that.

“He can’t, you didn’t untie the rope dummy” an auburn haired boy said from beside pet. He reached forward and removed the velvet ribbons from 854’s limbs.

“Right. Haha” brad laughs embarrassed

Why are these pets acting so human-like? Don’t they know they’re pets?

Brad helped the new pet to it’s feet with a smile.

“Let’s get you in the bath” he hums

“O-okay” 854 says looking up at the other pets, who all looked rather relaxed.

Brad leads him through the doorway that Blake had come from earlier.

Pet hadn’t really processed how big master’s house was before. It had been to focused on the odd pets but now, it was amazed. Definitely a mansion, a big one at that.

…

The bath went smoothly, brad had helped 854 bathe. It was enjoyable, no lingering hands or wandering eyes. He cleaned the new pet, washed it’s hair and helped it out of the tub.

Brad made some light conversation that didn’t require any responses to fill the silence between them. Pet was thankful for this, handler jake had always talked a lot when he was in a good mood.

Brad blow-dried pets hair after pet put on the new clothing that the auburn haired boy had brought by.

Pet had relaxed significantly since it was first let out of the box.

Pet couldn’t help but wander how long this nice feeling would last.

••••

A/N

Okay so im sure this isn’t great but im working on the next part already. Maybe as the story builds itll be better.