#i never thought of shipping as wanting/expecting ship to be canonically together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ahmoseinarus · 2 months ago

Text

Why I'm not okay with Vax'leth...

okay, hear me out before you come for me, "their love was used to break the world"ers, cuz I'm seriously not trying to start a fight... First and foremost... this is only my opinion. And my opinion has absolutely no bearing on your thoughts, views, opinions, or what is canon. The Eight Nerdy-Ass Voice Actors have spoken: Vax'leth is canon, end of story. And I'm certainly not going to say Vax'leth shippers are wrong, or stupid, blah blah blah... hell no. That is not my place, nor my right (well, legally it is my right, but my personal morals and feelings on the matter say that it's a dick move, so). I don't care who you ship (as long as it ain't pedophilia). That's the beauty of fandoms. We can all have our thoughts, ideas, opinions, and somewhere, find someone of like mind to share them with. Second, yes. I ship Perc'ildan... But I also ship Vax'more. Hell, when I was watching Campaign 1, Vax gave Percy a big ol' smooch on the cheek, Liam said "Percy and Vax, people! Ship it!" I said "O, captain, my captain!" and never looked back. But otherwise, there wasn't much else in canon to go off of. Not like there was with Vax & Gilmore. Very quickly, the chemistry there blew me away, I was shipping them so damn fast, and I had so much hope for them! But then... "You know I'm in love with you, right?"

💔 ... that single, Iconic moment that kicked off the Vax'leth joy for nearly a decade for so many, was a moment of shattered hopes and heartbreak for me. And it came out nowhere! I was not expecting it! I knew people were shipping them (I was not in online communities yet, I got into the fandom very late, they were between C2 & C3 when I started watching C1) but I didn't know how the campaign ended, I didn't know if anyone ended up together... I had not recognized any interest between those two characters except for one brief moment, when Vax went unconscious in the fight with the Briarwoods in Emon... He pictured his mother, his sister... and Keyleth. And I thought "oh god, please don't go there." And for a couple more eps, it seemed okay, but then he dropped that line...

"You know I'm in love with you, right?"

... fuck.

Part of me wanted to stop watching. But that was silly and childish. And holy shit, the Briarwood Arc. I think I paused, though, and stared at the ceiling and had a silent mental tantrum. Later, watching him pseudo-break up with Gilmore from their pseudo-thing that was never really official to begin with, because of what looked unrequited love, left me feeling nauseous. And... it never got better. Nothing about Vax and Keyleth ever felt right.

Now, I wasn't particularly happy about Perc'ahlia either, but... I was okay with it. I mean, damn, Laura and Tal played it well, Vex & Percy had the chemistry... They came together, they said "yes, you are what I want", and "Lady in the streets, tiger in the sheets" Vex said "Great, let's fucking go," grabbed Percy by the short & curlies and has been dragging him around, plucking his flower ever since, and making him a very, very happy man. But I digress. No, Vax'leth just never felt right. The chemistry wasn't there. They always seemed just a bit out of synch, never quite in harmony with each other... I know the arguments have been made before. Keyleth and Vax felt forced; yeah, they really did. They were awkward; yeah, I mean, Keyleth was already socially awkward, Marisha played that brilliantly, but this was... more. Vax carried everything; yyyyeah, he did. He seemed desperate to make it work. Sure. I saw all of that. Every single one of "their moments" was so incredibly uncomfortable for me to watch, it was almost unbearable... There were a couple of times when I physically squirmed in response. But... why? I didn't have this response to Percy & Vex... I see Perc'ahlia fanart online, I've even read a couple of Perc'ahlia fics... but Vax'leth? I actively avoid it... I've never read anything that might include it... I block the tag on every platform, because stumbling across fanart with them in any... intimate position just brings a visceral cringe reaction from me... ... But... I'm fine with Percy/Grog. Or Percy/Tary. Or Vax/Grog. I've read a Vex/Percy/Grog. I'm down with Vex/Zahra/Kash... Vex/Percy/Zahra. o.o I've read Polymachina where it's "hm... whose bed am I sleeping in tonight?" And that's where I figured it out... because whenever characters started getting mix-matched up together, occasionally I'd find myself skipping stuff, just "oof, no, not interested in giving that paring/threesome/grouping a chance..." And I finally realized it all had the same thing in common. It was Keyleth herself. And between that, and watching C3, I started to realize something. Or recognize something. There was something about Keyleth that was resonating with me. There was something about her, that I was relating to. And once I figured it out, I couldn't believe it had taken me so long to see it. Keyleth full on fucking screams Aromantic Asexual so hard!

And she doesn't even know it herself!!!

This is an incredible woman of strength, power, wisdom and compassion. She is one of the leading figures in the entire world. Her life has been nothing but a journey of seeking knowledge, and power, and self-control, and wisdom and leadership. She has had incredible burdens and responsibilities heaped upon her shoulders since she was just a girl. Her Aramente was supposed to be about finding herself, yes, but that's also what the journey of life is. I realized that the reason that Vax'leth made me so uncomfortable, was because I recognized what I was seeing. I was watching Keyleth, who had no understanding of herself, and who had not yet had the time to explore and figure herself out, being confronted with someone that she cared about, expressing feelings for her, and she was going through the motions of trying to to respond. She was just doing what she thought she was supposed to do, playing the part she was supposed to play, and even wanted to play, because this! This is what people do! This is part of what everyone gets to have! Something that is normal, but special, and just for her, in this otherwise insane, overwhelming chaos that is the rest of her life, with the world crashing down around her... "This is what I'm supposed to do! I care for this person, he cares for me, he loves me, so I'm supposed to fall in love with him! That's what's happening! I'm supposed to do this! This is what I'm supposed to say! Is this what it's supposed to feel like when we hold hands? I'm probably just nervous and overreacting. This is what we're supposed to do. Yes, we're supposed to kiss. I'm supposed to like it. Yes, act like I like it, tell him I like it, tell myself I like it, this is what I want because I care about him, and this is what you do when you care about someone!"

At some point, you start to question. "... is it... really supposed to fee like this? Is this really what I want? Is this really love? Or... OMG have I just been playing along because I'm trying to conform to the expectations of society... and myself?!" It's confusing... because you genuinely do want it!!! Until you realize... that you don't. And then you're just confused. And trying to figure out why. Maybe you weren't really in love? Maybe you didn't really want it with this person? Or... did you ever really want it at all?

Let me tell you, some of the best smut fanfiction is written by asexuals, in case you didn't know that. There is a big difference between loving sex, and loving the idea of sex. Or loving romance, and wanting to have your own. There are so many written works of love and romance and erotic, explicit sex, being written by people who can't get enough of reading and writing it... but have no interest in having that themselves... But I'm sure quite a few of us went through the motions in our youth, of dating, kissing, or even a bit more, before we realized OMG no, keep it out of my reality and in fiction, please. Keyleth never had the fucking chance. Perhaps in their year off between the Conclave and the final Arc she started to wonder and question... I think at some point, maybe on a Talks Machina, Liam did say that Vax and Keyleth's relationship was mostly asexual. But then, of course... Vax was gone.

I wonder if he knew, on some level... Especially after his deal with the Matron. That as much as she loved him, it was not as much as she thought she did. Or, if I may, even as much as Marisha loved Vax. Maybe Keyleth has figured herself out by now... maybe she hasn't... In Dalen's Closet, she asked the Champion how she is supposed to get over him if he keeps sending her Ravens. But I can't help wondering if she isn't clinging to Vax's memory, in part, because as long as she is still grieving him, it gives her an excuse to not move on. If she hasn't moved on, and isn't moving forward in a state where someone might be trying to catch her eye, she won't have to deal with that self-reflection, and start to question if what she had with him was ever real to begin with, or just another lie she was telling herself. I have to wonder if she is ready to see and accept that part of herself. It takes a lot of time. I was in my mid thirties by the time I realized I was on the asexual spectrum. And nearly 40 when I realized I was aromantic. And now, looking at Keyleth as an Aromantic Asexual, everything just seemed to slot into place, and make sense for her, and everything that bugged me about her suddenly... doesn't anymore. I've always enjoyed Keyleth's character, outside of Vax'leth. But I'm curious, if I go back and rewatch C1 now, with this perspective, while I will certainly never like it, and will certainly never ship it... I wonder if I can at least find some peace in it. But, for those of you who think I'm stark raving mad, that Zephrah is for lovers, and the Raven & the Tempest is the love story for the ages, well... You've waited a long time for LoVM Season 3! Enjoy and savor every Vax'leth moment you get!!! But I will respectfully be filtering them out, and shall let you have your moments of triumph and delight in peace.

💖Fandom is for Shippers (Canon Compliance not required) -Responses are fine, I just ask that you bear in mind all I have put forth is my opinion, and nothing more, and I have tried to do so in a manner that is respectful to those that I know will likely not share my opinion. Should someone feel the need to come back at me with considerably less respect than I have shown, well... then in the words of one Pike Trickfoot in LoVM S1 E01... "Easy Grog... we don't waste our time on talking assholes, remember?"

68 notes · View notes

demonioenelespacio · 1 year ago

Text

I really love how s2 of Good Omens is written, because you have so many clues about what is going to happen at the end, the offer, the motivations behind the choices of all the characters… You have everything on the plate to cook an amazing recipe.

You start the season with them as angels and end it with an offer to be both angels again (just like s1 started and ended with a Garden). You get a brief glimpse of The angel who became Crowley, we get to see how they were so passionate about their work, you can see their joy. I mean, look at them

Can you really blame Aziraphale for thinking that the offer is amazing? When that could mean that Crowley is this happy again.

But… The spark that our demon is missing is innocence, and that’s something Crowley can’t get back, ever (unless they delete his memory??).

Crowley is bitter and angry and anxious, but we know he can experience that joy from Before, because we can see that when he is making it rain for Maggie and Nina. We saw a real smile.

Aziraphale didn’t.

But the offer is not because he wants to change Crowley, because he knows who Crowley is now and loves him as he is. And because he knows that Crowley is still the same caring and kind being he was Before.

“I know you”

“You do not know me”

“I know the angel you were”

“The angel you knew is not me”

Yeah, it’s true, but that scene is to show Azira that he is still kind, he didn't kill the sheep, he is not going to kill the children. So, yes, Crowley isn’t that Angel, but the core is the same in the end.

There is also the fact that… Do you think Aziraphale ever thinks about how he planted the seeds of Crowley's Fall?

This is the face of an angel who is going to end the career of another angel WITHOUT REALISING IT.

That Angel didn’t know about Earth, about humans, about the Great Plan, they were busy making stars. If Aziraphale had never told them that, would Crowley have thought of asking questions?

First offence and all of that… How unfair. How could Aziraphale make it right again?

The “Exactly” scene is so important. They are so stupid (affectionary).

They mean the same thing (We can be together) but saying different things; a phrase (Nothing lasts forever) meaning different things for each of them. They don’t talk, they don’t really speak each other's language.

Also, the final scene is more painful, but we have the same argument in ep1:

“Oh, right, this is how you wanna do it?”

“No, I would love you to help me! I’m asking you to help me take care of (Heaven). But if you won’t, you won’t”

*Crowley leaves*

How can they have broken up so many times without ever being together (screams).

In ep1 we also have the two little mini half-miracles. And I have read some people take that as how powerful Crowley is, but come on. This Big Miracle is clearly because they are working together, the two of them together are more powerful than anything else. And boy, that rang an alarm in my head when I first watched the season, because… Crowley said in s1 that they will be waiting for the next Big Thing, this war "Heaven and Hell vs. Humanity". You want the best in your team, right?

Because if they are not… they can be against you.

So, yeah, I saw Metatron and was like “ok, here we go”. And look, his offer is to Aziraphale, because he is an angel, but Metatron doesn’t blink an eye before mentioning Crowley too. He wants both. But whatever, if Crowley doesn’t want to go to Heaven, if Heaven only gets Azirphale, well, success either way! Because if you separate the two of them, they are no longer a threat .

Also the fly, flying around very very noisy. You have Beelzebub saying they want Gabriel surrendered to them and acting a bit weird. All the clues there (I must confess I didn't expect the ship to be canon, I just thought they might be talking more lol. A nice win).

All this just thinking about episode 1.

The last thing I want to touch is Maggie and Nina talking to Crowley before the confession. Because… They told us what was going to happen.

They can’t be together, because Nina has to get over her previous toxic relationship before she is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Maggie waits (she will wait).

Aziraphale has to get over his toxic relationship with Heaven before he is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Crowley waits (he will wait).

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens analysis #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #metatron #good omens s2 spoilers #my stuff

452 notes · View notes

sleepymccoy · 3 months ago

Text

I've been seeing more posts exalting the positive impact McCoy plays on the triumvirate and it had me wondering what would Spock and Kirk be like if McCoy had simply never joined up?

(I am ignoring everything but tos canon, and I am fully making this up lol)

I like the pov that Spock is more comfortable in himself because McCoy needles and pushes him, but never tries to force him to change. So, Spock knows one human who will hear the most Vulcan stuff he has to say, will disagree and fight him on it, but will ultimately say it's alright that you think that. It's nice to have friends who listen to you without making you change

Spock also gets to learn what McCoy's thought processes are and understands what humans want through that. While a lot of their interactions are about what being Vulcan is like, a lot are also McCoy giving Spock a clear example of what being human means.

Can't find the gifs, but I'm thinking of scenes like when McCoy has a drink while Spock complains and McCoy's like, "you don't have to drink with me Spock, but at the very least dont disapprove of me" which is a clear instruction on how to spend off duty time together. Even the wish me luck scene has a "how can I grant you what I don't understand" which is also, hey, Spock, I'm human. Remember that.

And all of Galileo! All McCoy does is walk around and inform Spock why humans are responding the way they are

I think it helps Spock learn how to interact with his colleagues. He learns what he can expect of them, and what's too much.

All that's to say I think Spock'd be a right asshole to work with if he didn't have McCoy holding his hand and helping him chill tf out

And then Jim! I mean, we know that the Spock and McCoy bickering is how Jim thinks through problems. It also means that Spock and McCoy can disagree with Jim without directly challenging their captain's authority which would help the chain of command feel solid

On top of helping Jim make decisions, he's an old friend. He knows everything. And McCoy makes him eat, I know his Yeoman does as well but I feel like McCoy's thing of "I eat when the crew eats, that means you" is pretty unique. And medical command has the capacity to give orders to the captain like no one else does, but McCoy wields it as a friend not a colleague and that's gotta be helpful to him

Of course, part of why Spock and McCoy work is because Jim is there to show Spock not every human will jump down your throat, but that's for another post.

I think a Jim without McCoy would be all work no play. I think he'd be thinner, he'd have a terrible habit of falling in love then actually being devastated that he chooses the ship because he doesn't get the chance to relax and laugh onboard as he does with McCoy

I don't know, I'm sure other people will come up with other ideas but I'm just thinking today. I wonder if, without McCoy, would Jim and Spock even be friends? Or would they just be remarkably productive colleagues who like get each other but don't actually spend time together

Please feel free to add to this if you have thoughts, mine are very unformed

#this is quickly threatening to turn into a fic...#mcspirk #spones #mckirk #triumvirate meta

94 notes · View notes

jaehaeryshater · 5 months ago

Text

“[Would he] become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier.” - Jon XII ASOS

Part 1 in any crown design series, art by: @nataa.draws on twit

For about a year, I have been thinking about creating a series of artworks with my designs of crowns that either canonically existed in the ASOIAF universe but went without description (Ceryse’s crown, Jaehaera’s crown, Naerys’s crown, etc.) or crowns that could have existed but didn’t due to deaths of the ladies involved or a break in betrothal (the Ygritte one above and a Sansa QOT7K crown, which is what I’m hoping to do after this one). The only problem is, I’m awful at drawing! The design I can get down to the smallest detail and envision it in my head, but it simply doesn’t translate to paper. And because this is a series rather than one piece, it was a bit difficult to find an artist that both drew jewelry like I envisioned and also could make a commitment for an ongoing project. Luckily, I did end up finding Nata, which I was SO happy about because she was somehow able to commit exactly what I was envisioning on paper, and for that I’m so grateful. She is a lovely and talented woman.

I do want to talk about the designs a little bit, because I have been working on it for so long and absolutely in love with it, but I do want to make one thing clear first. This is not necessarily ship art, and the crowns I work with Nata in the future most certainly will not be. (I mean, Jon and Ygritte are my top ship of all time lol, but that’s not the focus of the art and I get why people don’t like her or them together). The relationship between Jon and Ygritte is problematic at best, and the other Queens I have mentioned above have even more abusive relationships with their husbands/betrothed (with the exception of Jaehaera and Aegon III, whose relationship was practically nonexistent and the problematic elements came from the situation and not from either of them individually). The focus of this series is on jewelry and designs that reflect the culture the person is from and their personality, rather than their relationship to their husbands. So I hope even if Ygritte and Jon are your NOTP and/or if you absolutely despise Ygritte, I hope you can still appreciate the art and cultural influences. The art was originally just supposed to include the crown and therefore be up for interpretation of it was Ygritte or Val’s, but I got carried away with the dress design I had thought of and because it was green which goes beautifully with red hair, I went ahead and asked for Nataa to draw Ygritte.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I can talk about the design, which I’m sooooo excited about. The main idea was the merging of Freefolk and Northern culture, but I still did want to remain relatively true to the 15th to 16th century English time period that ASOIAF is roughly centered around. I understand the idea that Ygritte would never be caught dead in such a thing, but you must understand!!!! Jon designed it for her himself when preparing to ask for her hand. So she grumbled and griped, but was secretly chuffed, so she wears it. From the beginning, the main element that I think Ygritte needed if expected to wear a dress is that she needs lots of furs lining it. Not only because of the cold, but also as a symbol of where she came from the make her feel more comfortable in her skin. The puffs are meant to be general fashion at the time, something more common in the Vale or the Reach, but I imagine that could be more of a Sansa influence on the North. The emeralds’ only purpose is to contrast and compliment Ygritte’s hair and to show the wealth of the dynasty. There are two different weirwood embroideries implemented in the dress design: the one on the top that is by the wolf, which of course represents the Stark dynasty that she has now married into, and the bigger weirwood at the base of the dress which has mammoths walking underneath it. Mammoths are one of the symbols of the Freefolk, and weirwoods are very sacred to both the Northern people and the Freefolk, and their shared religion following the Old Gods. I imagine that when Jon was designing this dress for Ygritte, he was more attentive and involved than men in this universe usually were, and his ultimate goal was her comfort and for her to feel included in her new position instead of feeling like a commodity for Jon and the North.

As for the crown, which was the reason for the commission in the first place, I wanted it to follow the same general design as the King of the North crown. I know there’s lots of different ideas of different crowns Jon could adopt as King of the North instead of somehow either regaining possession of or replicating his brother’s crown, but there were way too many options and it made my head spin, so we’re doing this. So the structure of the crown is the same, but the main difference is that instead of being made of metal, this crown is made of weirwood. Of course, weirwood is very special to both cultures, but I figured that metal wouldn’t impressive Ygritte or her culture as much as weirwood would. Therefore, the texture is very different. There are emeralds around it to compensate the lack of metal and extra agency, and to give the crown more of a feminine look as well as to compliment Ygritte’s hair. The tops of each bar are meant to look white and as if capped by snow. This is meant to symbolize the Beyond the Wall influence and I was also thinking about the Crown of Winter when creating this part of the design. The Crown of Winter was given up by Torrhen Stark when yielding to Aegon the Conqueror. We aren’t given a description of it, but I have always imagined it having those snow caps and generally being mostly white. I’ve thought of Jon bringing back the design of the Crown of Winter, but because we have so little to go off of, I chose for there just to be a small influence included instead of going off nothing and trying to create something from scratch. Lastly, there’s the three engraving in the middle. The two mammoths are meant to show who Ygritte is, where she’s come from. She is a member of the Freefolk, and becoming a Northern Lady is not meant to erase that or get her hide that part of her (not that she’d ever agree to that anyway), but it is a part of her and a part of the future of the North merging together. There’s a wolf in the middle as well, because she’s married in to that family and she is a representation of the Starks. But her and Jon and their resulting family is part Stark, part Freefolk, and both of those cultures are meant to be displayed and remembered. The next generation is a merger of the Freefolk and their ideals, and the the traditions of the North.

Okay, that is all, thank you so much if you read all of this! I loved working on this so much and I want to thank Nata again, because she did an amazing job. I hope this is enjoyable to someone else like it’s enjoyable to me. I think the idea of Ygritte as Queen of the North is hilarious, although probably bad for the health of Northern Lords. I can’t even imagine what unhinged things she would do, or how violent archery practice could become. The only thing I can say in her favor is that I think she would get along great with Rickon and be a good (well depends on what you think a good upbringing is, manners would lack, but I think he would be happy) mother figure to him. They would be the worst duo to terrorize Winterfell. I also like to think that Theon and her, although she would not like him, could build up some sort of beneficial relationship between them and she could help him regain his strength and his love of archery, because that is something they share. Anyway, I’ll see you soonish with my next commission ^_^

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #ygritte #Jon Snow #tudor fashion #asoiaf fashion #fashion #valyrianscrolls

121 notes · View notes

ashen-char · 6 months ago

Text

dating river - hcs (family edition)

ship: river (all souls) x gender neutral reader

warnings: mentions of death/graveyards/spirits as is canon-typical

notes: jade's such a big part of her life that this got a bit longer than i expected! if you want a more general dating river hcs, find it here. requested here

✦ river is BUSY. on top of the classes she takes at valley, dealing on the side, and the shit the cops makes her deal with, she dedicates all the time she has to her daughter

✧ as such, she definitely did not expect to get into a relationship. let alone to care about someone as much as she does you

✦ she was wary at first. river hasn't been in many, if any relationships. she didn't know how you'd respond to jade, if you'd understand that you can't be her first priority, or if jade would take to you

✧ so for the first few months you two were seeing each other, river swatted off your requests to take her home with a "maybe next time"

✦ in fact, the first time you met jade was an accident

✧ you were chilling in the park with some of your friends while river was taking her daughter to the playground. when jade noticed her mama suddenly brightening at the sight of you across the park, she asked why she was all smiley

✧ basically, river had to introduce her to you

✧ of course, you understood why explaining your relationship status to a 5 year old who's grown up with a single mom her whole life was complicated. so you wore the badge of "this is mama's special friend" with honour

✦ river couldn't hide how happy she was with you, though

✧ jade could always tell if her mama was coming home from hanging out with you. she'd be less stressed, her smiles brighter and laughter more frequent

✧ river couldn't help but to repeat your jokes (if they were appropriate) or gush about what you two did

✧ and since you made her happy, it was a done deal for jade. with all the love in the world for her mama, she hatched a plan to get you two together!

✧ so jade made up all sorts of excuses to have you stick around

✧ movie nights, tea parties, games - jade insisted things were more fun with you, and river couldn't keep saying no to her

✧ any small problem, you were called in to solve it. a jar needed to be opened? they couldn't reach something off the shelf? jade knew who to call

✧ "mama! we don't have enough pillows to make a fort... maybe we could ask your friend to bring some!"

✦ and river secretly loved how much her little girl took to you

✧ every time you showed up for them, it reminded river that she's not going it alone anymore

✧ river would catch you helping with jade's homework like you were a born teacher. rather than just giving the 5 year old the answers like it'd be easiest to do, you'd explain how to get the answers

✧ both of them appreciate how patient and understanding you are

✦ whenever you three were out together, you'd occasionally get compliments on your "sweet little family"

✧ jade would just wrap her arms around both of you and go "thank you!", not letting either of you rebut

✧ not that you wanted to, of course. you loved the idea of you three as a family

✦ you hoped that one day river would see that you'd love jade like she was your own and just make the damn thing official already

✦ needless to say, when jade accidentally caught a glimpse of you two kissing one night, she was ecstatic! she thought her plan worked perfectly

✧ when you two explained that you were actually dating all along, jade got a little huffy that you two were keeping a secret from her

✧ she made you promise to never do that again. but she did give you extra special permission to date her mama, with the addendum that you had to keep making her happy ok?

✧ and she made river promise to treat you good too

✦ river was very embarrassed when jade waxed poetic about how happy she is when she comes home after seeing you

✦ jade basically deemed you worthy of being her second parent before you two even told her

✦ the closest thing river has had to a co-parent was her mom, jade's nana. she had to learn how to let you support her, how to be a team when it came to raising jade together

✧ of course, it helped that you never tried to take over. river was in charge and ultimately, she knew best about what jade needed

✧ river appreciates the amount of respect you have for her decisions in raising jade

✦ it means the world that you're there

✧ you're there to attend jade's recitals, you're there when she scrapes her knee, and you're there when river is coming home late but jade still wants to hear a story

✧ you'll sit by river's side and cheer jade on. you'll carry her over to river so she can patch her up, making them laugh so it hurts less. you'll tell river all about jade's day so she never feels like she missed out because she was too busy

✦ with you around, they teach you their traditions and you teach them yours

✧ with jade being so young, it's nice to make lasting memories for her to cherish

✧ formative stuff, like camping trips when you teach her how to pitch a tent or you help her catch her first fish

✦ you help the kid learn how to ride a bike, and how to swim

✧ when you realise that river doesn't know how to do either (her family could never afford a bike or a pool), you teach her too

✧ (buying her a bike was a very necessary splurge when she smiled so wide because of it)

✧ river trusts you. she trusts you when you hold her hand and help her get used to the feeling of floating, of losing control. she trusts you when you promise to keep your hands on the bike

✧ when you see her balancing on her own, you let go and let her bike around for a bit. realising she had been duped, river cussed at you playfully for breaking your promise

✧ learning how to do these simple skills and being able to do them with you and her daughter, river's confidence shot up because of you

✦ they like to go to the graveyard on all souls day, wearing matching outfits and doing their hair and makeup the same. you let jade do your face paint and river laughs and kisses you because it looks all wonky

✧ when they take you to see nana's grave, you take the time to thank her for how great of a person river is

✧ you tell her how she'd be proud of how much jade's growing

✧ you introduce yourself and promise to take care of her daughter and granddaughter

✦ for your anniversary, river gets a tattoo of your name on her neck, just below 'JADE' <3

#mikey madison #all souls #river all souls #mikey madison x reader #river x reader #requested

82 notes · View notes

saintsenara · 8 months ago

Note

Wait why are you not a fan of Snape and Hermione?? 2 nerds who care a socially awkward amount about the things they care about nerding out together at levels of romance people who can be chill and normal about things can’t comprehend?? It’s not one of my fav ships but I can definitely see it!

I headcanon that Snape picks on Hermione being a muggle raised know it all thirsty to prove and lacking self awareness because he was one himself when he arrived at school and James and Sirius picked on him for it! It’s like that you’re most repulsed by the things you’re self conscious of in yourself thing to me. Or maybe a him trying to live out being the “cool” one in that dynamic thing

But when she’s a grown woman and more self possessed like he became too I feel like that same energy ness has potential for love!

Hermione is famously respectful and compassionate enough towards all beings to be more understanding than say Lily Evans of his prickly tender ego if he had another m word style outburst and such a people pleaser she’d keep coming back for more snark as long as he peppered it with the odd encouraging compliment

And I feel like a Snape in reciprocated love could absolutely veer into inventing beautiful and helpful spells to impress his lover or sending ��made me think of u 😘” notes with verses of elaborate obscure poetry territory that would be frankly the level of literary and academic courtship our Herms deserves 😌

Is it cause they’d both be the highly strung worrier one and they both need someone to ground them? Or maybe too pessimistic together and one of them needs to be the cheerful one?

anon, i genuinely love this for you - i'm always thrilled to get people explaining their love for ships in the ol' inbox, especially when they're ships i don't instinctively vibe with, and i have been won round to stranger premises than this by a passionate defence of why two characters should kiss.

where i still think snamione isn't clicking for me, however, is that the way you describe both snape and hermione here doesn't align in any significant way with what i personally think would be interesting to explore about either character in a relationship and have them still feel meaningfully like their canon selves.

[i will say, though - because i always think it's worth reiterating my fandom commitment towards being neither a cop nor a priest - that i literally don't give a shit about either the age gap or the student-teacher dynamic. i know that's an objection to pairings like snarry and snamione which lots of people do express. but i will never be one of them.]

the primary reason that i don't vibe with many of the more... sapiosexual hermione ships [by which i mean not only snamione but tomione] is that they hang on the idea that hermione's intellect expresses itself in a way we never actually see in canon.

or, the idea that snape and hermione are intellectually compatible [and that they would enjoy hanging out being nerdy about stuff] is just... not true.

throughout the seven-book canon, the way that hermione shows herself to be clever is that she displays an excellent memory and an enormous capacity to rote-learn. her intelligence is overwhelmingly demonstrated - both in the classroom and during the trio's year on the run - by her being able to regurgitate swathes of information, very usually verbatim from the source she got it from.

she is clearly able to use this ability to retain information to understand the theoretical component of magic in a way neither harry nor ron ever manage, and she is able to use this understanding of theory to work out how to perform spells which are ahead of her expected level on the hogwarts curriculum.

and this is intelligence - and i want to be very clear that i'm not trying to suggest that hermione shouldn't be thought of as intellectual, or that her academic achievements should be devalued. but it isn't the way snape's intelligence manifests itself.

because hermione is never shown - at any point in canon - to be a particularly creative or experimental thinker.

she places an enormous intellectual trust in disciplinary authority - teachers and textbooks - and is frequently rattled when these are revealed to be partial or incorrect, as we see in her shock at hogwarts: a history not mentioning house elves or her anger at harry getting better results by following the modified instructions in the prince's textbook [despite knowing nothing about the theory underpinning them] than she does with the "official" ones.

she also regards the gatekeeping of inquiry which disciplinary boundaries enforce to be a positive thing and she never displays any inclination to step beyond them. she dislikes the spells in the prince's textbook because they aren't ministry-approved - and i must say that i think the idea that she'd be won over by a man creating spells for her is wishful thinking...

she is immediately mistrustful of anything she can't find something she regards as an empirical source for - notice, for example, that she only comes round to the idea that prophecies might be real once she encounters them in the ministry of magic.

even when we see her using magic on her own terms - the jinx she uses on marietta edgecombe, for example; or the protean charm on the da coins - the magic she's using is sophisticated, and is being applied in a way which wouldn't be classroom-sanctioned, but it's not magic which is being used in a way which is removed from the spell's original purpose. the protean charm on the da coins is impressive because it's a flawless execution of newt-level magic by a sixteen-year-old. it's not impressive because hermione is using it in a strange, experimental, or radical way.

[in contrast, the dark mark - which harry notes the coins mimic - is clearly a spell voldemort himself invents.]

snape, on the other hand, is an experimenter. he's someone who clearly sees magic as a creative force which he has every right to shape as he sees fit by adaptation and invention. and he's someone who evidently rejects the logic of disciplinary gatekeeping - one tension in his relationship with dumbledore prior to half-blood prince is that snape evidently retains an enormous intellectual interest in the dark arts [which, as he tells us, are an area of magic which is feared precisely because they can't be neatly contained within disciplinary boxes - they are ever-changing, unfixed, mutating...]

and it's these conflicting views of what magic is and how it should be used and thought about which is the cause of the intellectual incompatibility we see between snape and hermione in canon.

he is unequivocally in the wrong for his dismissive classroom manner towards her - because he is an adult and she is a child. but he isn't wrong in principle that hermione just repeating what she's read in the textbook and refusing to synthesise her knowledge [she always goes massively over word limits! she never gives answers in class in her own words!] isn't actually a demonstration that she understands the material. [and therefore something a good teacher would guide her through conquering... snape having no interest in doing this is his own fault.]

and - from a snamione-specific perspective - it's all the evidence snape needs that, actually, they're not going to enjoy hanging out chatting about academic pursuits. hermione values knowledge like a dragon hoards treasure. snape wants to take that treasure, melt it down, and turn it into new and weird things.

once again, i don't think this a flaw in either of their characters - it's just something which is. and i don't think it's an insurmountable obstacle to writing snamione, because i believe any ship is possible if an author has enough nerve. but it's an aspect of both characters' canon personalities [and hermione's above all] which never seems to make it into snamione fics - all of which, as far as i've encountered them, are beholden to an idea of hermione's approach to academia which is considerably more flexible than we actually see in the books.

of your other points, i'm not particularly convinced by the idea that snape sees his younger self in the teenage hermione. this isn't just for the reasons outlined above - hermione isn't trying to prove herself in the same way he was, which was by creating and experimenting in a bid to be noticed and considered impressive - but also because of the massive gulf in their respective class backgrounds.

hermione is really posh - and, while she's obviously subjected to discrimination at hogwarts on account of her blood-status, she also comes from a family with both the financial resources and the cultural language to make her familiar with the vibe of the elite muggle boarding schools hogwarts is a pastiche of.

the teen snape - in contrast - stands out from his cohort in that he is visually identifiable as working-class [which does appear to be genuinely unusual at hogwarts]. his class background is something which clearly drove a lot of the marauders' bullying of him [i'm sorry to the girlies who think james and sirius targeted him out of some righteous desire to stamp out his prejudice - it was because he was poor and uncouth] and which he still has a chip on his shoulder about as an adult.

this - again - is not an insurmountable barrier to a snamione relationship [as it's not a barrier to thousands of real-world partnerships and friendships]. but it is something an author needs to grapple with if they want to make the pairing - at least, in my opinion - seem plausible. but the standard vibe seems to be that snape would be comfortable in the grangers' home fairly quickly, and that he'd be delighted to have hermione swanning around offering suggestions for how they could do up spinner's end... instead of him resenting this as the unwelcome meddling of people who've never had to worry for money.

i'm also not particularly convinced by the idea that hermione would get over being called a mudblood - especially by an adult man. while i think it's completely plausible that she'd handle this differently than lily [although lily's reaction is entirely justified - and i don't think we should throw the baby out with the bathwater of contextualising the teenage snape and the motivating factors behind his decisions by pretending that cutting off your friend because he called you a slur is a petty, ill-thought-out, or unreasonable move], i don't think that her reaction would be automatically forgiving.

hermione is compassionate towards kreacher when he calls her a mudblood because kreacher is a slave, whose prejudicial views are inextricably bound up in the magic used to oppress him [i.e. that if he received an order to use the term, or to refuse to serve a muggleborn food, from his masters, he would have to punish himself violently if he disobeyed it]. she is not - quite rightly! - compassionate towards someone like draco malfoy when he calls her one, since he is a free person with full agency to choose not to do this.

could she forgive him - or snape - for using the term? sure! absolutely! but i don't think it's a given - and i also think she'd expect a demonstration of how sorry snape was which wouldn't necessarily align with how he'd think he'd demonstrated his regret.

i do agree that - as you say - hermione is a people-pleaser, and she definitely has a far greater tolerance for being treated cruelly by people she wants to impress [especially authority figures - including snape himself] than either harry or ron. and i think this has the potential to introduce an extremely thorny dynamic into a snamione fic - in which the power dynamic inherent in the age gap [which, to reiterate, i think is completely fine for an author to enjoy] is compounded by hermione being unwilling to anger or contradict snape [which is a vibe - as i've said in answer to an ask about harmony - we also see in her relationship with harry... it's also obviously exactly how snape's relationship with dumbledore works.]

on a couple of the more minor characterisation notes, i'm afraid that the idea of snape as a great romantic has never hit for me. it seems really bound up in the way alan rickman portrayed him in the films, which i've always found a bit toothless. i also don't like the trope of "actually snape's really hot" which seems to always accompany it - ugly, odd men to get to bone too!

[what he would be - i think - is a magpie. get ready to be handed odd stones and bits of leaves on dates.]

i also think they're highly-strung in ways which differ enough to mean they'd just annoy each other. hermione is highly-strung in that she flusters easily and is very poor under pressure, but she's actually pretty emotionally stable [and i'd dispute that she's a pessimist - this is a girl who thinks that she's successfully eradicating slavery at hogwarts by knitting hats; she's pretty robust, funny, cheerful, and idealistic]. snape is highly-strung in that he has a hair-trigger temper and is very emotionally volatile, but he's obviously an extraordinarily good liar, very quick on his feet, and very good under pressure. he'd think she panicked too much [and over insignificant things he didn't care about], she'd think he tanked the vibe of a date by taking offence at someone breathing too loudly.

where are they similar? well, they have a shared self-serving streak [hermione is appalled by behaviour from harry and ron she considers perfectly moral when she does it]; capacity for cruelty; tendency towards secrecy; tendency towards pettiness and pleasure in the misfortune of others; loathing of flying a broom; cutting sense of humour; stubbornness; resilience; clear dislike of slumming it in nature; love of puzzles; and a weakness for red hair.

i think you could make it work on the grounds that they'd probably have the time of their lives being haters together - especially, i feel, about rita skeeter.

and - y'know - because love is weird.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #snamione #hermione granger #severus snape #is this an “i'm in danger” one?#only time will tell

134 notes · View notes

theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

Text

INEVITABLE [2]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mentions of the slave trade, canon violence, blood and injuries

word count: 6,030

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

[previous] [next]

02: FALLING FOR YOU

"courage is knowing it might hurt, and doing it anyways. stupidity is the same. and that's why life is hard." ⏤jeremy goldberg

It had been a very long time since Din was nervous before a hunt. Wary, maybe, or concerned, but not nervous. He had retreated to the Razor Crest for the night, needing the time to mentally and emotionally spiral while in the safety of his own ship, then the next day he started tracking you down once more. Din thought surely you would’ve left Bespin entirely, but he tracked you back to a cantina. A different cantina. But still.

Just as he had yesterday, Din simply stepped into the building. He had planned to be more tactful today, but realizing you were in another cantina had been curious enough to throw him off entirely. You sat at the bar this time, turned so you could lean your back against the counter, with pretty eyes glancing around the room. Your eyes darted to him, away, then back again. Din expected a lot of reactions to his presence, but he never would’ve guessed that you’d roll your eyes with a huff and turn back around.

What the hell?

Din crossed the room. Grogu whined from inside the closed pram floating behind him. The child hated being locked away, and Din hated locking him away, but he didn’t trust himself around this quarry. And that’s what you were. A quarry. He had to remind himself of that again.

“Can I buy you a drink, bucket head?” You asked. Din narrowed his eyes at you in a glare⏤ knowing good and well you couldn’t see it, but it made him feel better to do it. You glanced over your shoulder at him with that same infuriating smirk you shot him yesterday. “What’s your poison of choice?”

“You’re coming with me.” Din demanded.

“Mmm, no thanks.”

Din shook his head, “That wasn’t a choice.”

“It kind of felt like a choice when I kicked your ass yesterday and ran.” You snickered. “Mandalorian.”

The way you said his title was mocking and it made Din’s skin bristle with irritation. His hands drifted to his hips and he leaned in toward you. “Get up now.”

You groaned. “Seriously, bucket head⏤”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped.

“⏤what do I have to do to get you off my back?” You had continued on, unphased by his demeanor. “Credits? Is that what gets you going in the morning?” You turned back around, maintaining your confident posture, and it put your face by his. “I can get you some credits. Probably. Do you take IOUs?”

Din tried to keep his composure. He had dealt with plenty of quarries who mouthed off to him, but this was the quickest it had actually worked. Din leaned back to stand tall once more. You quirked an eyebrow up at him and he locked his jaw. He wondered if you could hear his teeth grind together. Din reached to his belt, pulling off the binders, and slammed them on the counter by you.

“Put them on.”

“That’s a bit lazy of you, don’t you think?” You replied. “At least all the other hunters I faced did their own dirty work.”

Briefly, Din felt a flash of anger at the thought of a bunch of hunters manhandling you. It was gone as quick as it came, and the feeling was replaced with annoyance that it came at all. This soulmate thing was becoming a real nuisance. Fine. You wanted to make this difficult? Din would be the bounty hunter you expected him to be.

Din grabbed you by the wrist roughly, spinning you in your seat so he could twist your arm behind you. His other hand grasped you by the back of the neck and he slammed you into the counter. The sound of your grunt of pain made his grip marginally loosen. He leaned in once more, “Anything to say now?”

“Now? No.” You replied. “But I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

If Din thought fate had been ridiculous before for picking a quarry as his soulmate, he was really hating it now. Not only was his soulmate a quarry, but it was a smartass slave trader with the most aggravating of smirks. Maker, he was looking forward to shoving you into the carbonite freezer. Din grabbed the binders off the counter and connected it to both your wrists behind your back. He ripped you up and out of your seat then without a beat he began to shove you out of the cantina.

You begun to kick your feet, slowing your pace, and Din grabbed you by your upper arm so he could drag you along as needed. Din turned his head to look at you in skepticism. Yesterday, you had been quick to plan an escape route, but now you were going willingly? He didn’t trust it.

“Tell me, why would you go to a second cantina knowing I’m chasing you?” Din blurted.

“You want me to just reveal my grand master plan? I think not.” You chuckled. “You can just keep on wondering, bucket head.”

“It’s… reckless.” Din wanted to use the word ‘stupid’, but he couldn’t force it out.

You shrugged best you could with his hand wrapped tightly around your arm. “I’m reckless. What’s your point?” He shouldn’t have even asked. Din shook his head and mumbled curses under his breath. He was able to get you a few more streets over before you cried out in pain and hunched over. “Ow, ow. Wait⏤ Hang on.”

Din’s feet skidded to a stop. “What?”

“My leg. I just⏤ Let me lean for a second, okay?” You grunted and limped over with him in tow to lean against a hand railing. Din looked for any obvious injuries. “You’ve been dragging me down the road, you ass.”

Guilt rolled through him like a crashing wave no matter how much he tried to hold it back. His fingers loosened around your upper arm. Half a sigh left his lips a fist suddenly slammed up into his side right under his diaphragm making his breath stutter. Din spun, but you had already hooked one end of the binders around his wrist and the other to the metal bar you had been leaned against. He went to grab you, but you threw yourself over the bar and away from him. His hand shot to his blaster, but Din found it in your hand.

“How…” He breathed and glanced down at his situation.

Din reached for the keys on his belt, but while one of your hands held him at blaster point the other held up the keys. He blinked in shock. Din would never admit it aloud, he could barely admit it to himself, but he was mildly impressed. In fact, he’d be very impressed if his anger wasn’t overshadowing everything else.

“I’m a pickpocket. Should’ve warned you.” You shrugged. “Listen, how about we end our working relationship here.” Din huffed and tried to pull his arm free from the metal bar uselessly. “I’ve hit all the cantinas I need to in this city so I’m gonna be on my way, and I’m gonna leave you here. Let’s just agree to part ways as bitter friends.”

Din gnashed his teeth. “Release me. Now.”

“Yikes.” You made a clicking noise with your mouth. “You’re not exactly in the position to be making demands, bucket head.” You threw the key over your shoulder and then tossed the blaster as well⏤ so both would be out of reach from him. “It was so nice to meet you, by the way. Would love to never meet up again.”

You winked at him and he glared at you the entire time you sprinted away. Din turned to the pram to see Grogu had already opened the hatch and was staring at him. Din tugged on the binders once more, fruitlessly, then motioned to them. Grogu hopped out of his pram with a mischievous giggle and Din let his head fall against the metal bar with a ‘clang’.

The Mandalorian was pestering. You had a bad feeling he wouldn’t just give up. In fact, arguably, he could come after you with a vengeance after you hooked him to a metal bar. He’d get out free, but you hoped you could get a few worlds away before he did. You had a feeling no matter who he asked on the street to grab the key and blaster they’d steer around him without making eye contact. The faults of being an intimidating Mandalorian, you supposed.

You were on your way back to the local tarmac in hopes that you could bum a ride off someone. As you walked, you had pulled out your list to scratch names off. Technically, there were a few other places you needed to check, other cities, but it’d be a little awkward for you to sit in your third cantina of this world and have the Mandalorian walk in again. Maybe for now you’d put off the rest of Bespin and come back later.

“Lookie, lookie.” A whiny voice sang in a tone that made you wince. A slimy looking human stepped into your path from around the corner. A group of four other unfamiliar men stepped out behind him. He whistled. “The Mandalorian’s friend is all alone.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. “Friend? Excuse me?”

“Don’t play coy.” He snapped. “We saw you with him.”

“Yeah, alright, and what part of seeing us together made you think we’re friends?” You scoffed. “Was it the part where I broke a bar stool over his head or when he put me in a pair of binders?”

The men behind the first began to mumble skeptically, but the first refused to cave, “No, no. I’m telling you the two of them are⏤ look! Look, here he comes to save her already!” You stiffened in shock and whirled around to see the silver Mandalorian stalking toward you from down the road. How in the hell had he gotten out that quickly? “What did I tell you, boys?”

You scanned the area. To your right were the backs of buildings and the closest alley was further down, beyond the men blocking you. To your left was literally nothing. A protective guard rail and a view of the clouds. So that was out. And now you had a fucking bounty hunter stalking you from behind. Great.

“How about this,” You hissed, “Let me pass then you can beat up on the tin can, yeah?”

“Boss, I don’t think she’s⏤”

“Fine, fine, whatever.” The man snapped. “Get the kriff out of our way.” You gave the Mandalorian, who had paused, a brief salute and hurried past the men who left a space for you. You got a few steps away when you heard the man speak once more. “Don’t forget, I want that beskar. As for the kid, we can just sell it.”

You came to a screeching stop. A chill ran up your spine. A kid? You turned around to see the men slowly approaching the Mandalorian who continued to stand his ground. The pram behind him now rested right beside him and the hatch was open to reveal a small, green creature with large ears and wide, innocent eyes. A kid. Fuck.

The men had completely forgotten about you to focus on the Mandalorian so not a single one of them noticed when you began to approach them once more. In a swift, practiced motion, you drew your dagger and threw it with a precision that came from years of ingrained muscle memory. The blade buried itself into the back of the closest man, and his scream of agony made his friends pause and whirl back around. The Mandalorian took this as his opportunity to strike.

You lunged forward to get your blade back while hiding behind the man’s body best you could to avoid being hit by stray blaster fire. He spun, startling you, and began to swing out to try and make contact. You ducked under his arms to avoid a blow but that put you further into the fray. You didn’t notice the attack coming from your side until an elbow slammed into your face. You heard a crunch, felt the warm blood spray down your face, and with a groan, you hit the ground dazed. One on one you did fairly well in a fight, but more than that and you struggled. You rolled over and glanced up to see even more people showed up to the fight⏤ all friends of the ones you were fighting. They came up from behind the Mandalorian.

Once you were on the ground, it seemed like nobody cared about your presence at all. They swarmed the bounty hunter in a mass. You knew beskar was rare, but this seemed like overkill. A young cry filled the air and you spotted one of the men rushing toward you with a squirming bundle in his arms. The roar of anger that left the Mandalorian was ground shaking, words in a language you didn’t recognize ringing loudly, and it was followed by a wave of fire from his vambrace as he took on every single adversary that came at him.

You jumped up as the guy with the kid rushed by, and on instinct you ran after. Your face throbbed with pain, but you didn't let it hinder your speed. Luck was on your side and the man ended up cornering himself by staying too close to the railing. When he tried to turn down a different road you were able to cut him off and back him up against the guard rail once more.

He reached for the blaster at his hip, but you were faster. You drew the weapon from under your jacket and aimed it at his head. “Don’t.”

“What?” The man narrowed his eyes. “What the kriff is that?”

“Firearm.” You replied. “Nice, isn’t it?” He shifted and you tilted your head. “The slug in this weapon isn’t meant for you. Set the kid down, and I’ll let you walk away.”

The child in his arms squirmed enough to be able to look at you and even from this distance you still couldn’t tell what species it was. But, you could see the kid was young⏤ a toddler at best. You stayed firm in your stance, and the man was nervously shifting as if trying to gauge how serious you were. As if to prove your point further, you pulled back on the revolver’s hammer so the slug clicked into place.

Slowly, the man held the kid away from his chest in surrender but he stopped suddenly, “How do I know you won’t shoot me the second I hand the kid over?”

“I told you,” You said, “This slug has someone else’s name on it.”

“What about the Mandalorian?” He cried. “He’ll kill me.”

“Probably.” You shrugged. “But I figure, you set the kid down and you’ll have time to run at the very least. You hurt the kid, and that block of angry beskar is going to stomp your teeth down your throat.” You gave him a mocking grin. “So, make your choice and make it quick.”

Blaster fire came much too close and you had to duck to avoid being hit by a stray bolt. The Mandalorian was barreling in your direction while the last few fighters fired after him. He barked something and you turned back to see the man holding the kid had been hit. He slumped to the side, hitting the guard rail, and with a surprised chirp the kid went right over the side of the city.

You dropped the firearm and leapt over the edge right after him.

It was perhaps one of your least thought out plans, but the moment your hands grasped the kid you spun in the air and used all the momentum you had to throw him right back over the rail. The few broken bones or concussion he might get from being thrown so violently was better than the fate you were about to meet. Loud wind whipped past you as you fell. This is not how you thought you’d be leaving the world of the living and despite your entire body being filled to the brim with terror and fear as you hurtled through the air there was still just enough room for regret to take root.

Not regret at leaping over the edge for a kid you didn’t know.

Regret that you never got to see the life leave Viktor’s greedy eyes.

Nothing could have surprised you more than a solid force tackling you from behind. The air left your lungs while firm arms wrapped around you and the trajectory of your fall changed as you were suddenly being rocketed up. Glancing over your shoulder best you could, you spotted a chest of silver beskar. Before you could comprehend what was happening your feet touched down on solid ground. The hands wrapped around you dropped and you found yourself falling to your hands and knees⏤ still shaky from falling a few hundred feet.

“Patu.” A chirp followed by excited babbling made you lift your head to see the child standing right in front of you. He reached out and gave your face a little pat. He looked entirely unharmed. The situation was starting to become clear once more and you saw your firearm lying on the ground out of your peripherals.

You lunged for the weapon, but a heavy boot dropped down to rest on it⏤ pining it to the ground. Sheepishly, you peered up to see the Mandalorian staring down at you with his hands on his hips. You pressed your lips together and then scrunched your nose out of habit only to wince in pain from the movement. You cleared your throat. “We, uh, need to stop meeting like this.”

“Get up.” He said tensely. You sighed and pushed to stand, dusting off your pants, and tried to puzzle out if you could make a clean getaway by breaking into a sprint now. The Mandalorian stepped forward, lifting a hand to your face and you flinched back. “Stop. Stay still.”

The bounty hunter’s hands cupped your face in an almost tender way. Your eyes widened in confusion both at his actions and the flickering flame of warmth that sparked in your belly at being this close to a man who was hunting you. His hands shifted, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, and then he used both thumbs to snap your nose into place. You let out a howl of pain and shoved him back, “What the⏤” You lifted to touch your nose and realized it wasn’t nearly as tender anymore. “What the hell, man!?”

“Your nose was broken.” He replied.

“Yeah? Well, warn a girl!” You scoffed.

The Mandalorian tilted his head. “Would you have let me fix it if I warned you?” No. Of course not. You mocked him under your breath by mumbling his words. He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For saving my son.”

You glanced back at the small child standing by your boot now. He gave your leg a little pat before waddling over to this father. The Mandalorian picked him up and you wondered if the man under the armor was just as green as the kid. How did he fit ears like that under his helmet?

You pointed down to his boot, “That’s mine. Giving it back to me and letting me walk away would be a real cool thank you gift.” The metal pram from earlier drifted toward the two of you and when it came to a stop the boy jumped from the armored arms holding him into the floating crib. You were surprised to see the man move his boot out of the way and bend over to pick up your weapon. The Mandalorian held it out to you and your lips twitched up in excitement. “Glad to see we could settle this, bucket head.”

The second your hand grabbed the firearm you realized he wasn’t letting it go, but before you could tug or even speak his other hand shot up and clicked one binder around your wrist. You gasped, “You dick.” You could’ve sworn a chuckle left the helmet’s modulator. He tucked the firearm into his belt and then clicked the other half of the binder to his own wrist. “Is this because I called you bucket head?”

“That didn’t help.”

“So, I save your kid, and you still arrest me?”

“Yes.” He nodded and leaned into your space to pull the blade from the sheath around your thigh. He tucked that into his belt as well and took a few steps away. You dug your heels in. “Walk.”

“What about⏤”

“Walk.”

You grumbled in annoyance and picked up your feet. He seemed nonplussed with having to drag you down the road and it looked like his end goal was the tarmac where you had initially planned to be. The pram lingered beside you and the green child was babbling excitedly as if the two of you were having a full blown conversation. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Your kid talks a lot.” You said, tugging on the arm connected to him⏤ not that it seemed to bother him.

“So do you.” He hit back.

“That’s…fair.” You admitted. “Where are you taking the savior of your child?”

“I could’ve saved him without you.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, if I knew you had a kriffing jackpack I would’ve let you.” The Mandalorian came to a sudden stop and it jerked on your arm. “Bucket head, come on! Seriously?”

“You didn’t know I had a jetpack?”

You narrowed your eyes at him trying to figure out the catch behind this obvious trick question. You shook your head. “Why would I know that?”

“When we met, I saw you watching me.” He replied. “You were checking me for all my weapons.”

You winked, “Maybe I was just checking you out.”

“Stop.” The Mandalorian said firmly and started walking again. The two of you got a few more feet before he spoke up once more. “If you didn’t know I had a jetpack, why would you jump over the edge?”

“Did you miss the part where your kid went flying over first?”

“You’d be willing to die for a stranger?”

You shrugged. “He’s a kid.” The Mandalorian stopped again and turned to stare at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in mild annoyance. Why was this conversation still happening? Maker, at this point you were hoping to be thrown in a carbonite freezer just to avoid his heavy gaze and questions. “Can you finish arresting me please?”

After a beat, the Mandalorian began to walk and you took that as a victory. You’d take what you could get today.

Watching that bastard grab Grogu and run away while he was left trapped in a mob of smugglers was the most rage Din had felt in quite a long time. He had been ruthless in cutting down the men that swarmed him, and he would’ve killed every last one in that moment if he had the time. As soon as he had a window, Din was sprinting after the man who had taken his son.

Din hadn’t even realized you were still around until he saw you holding the man at the end of your weapon. The blaster bolts that fired around him missed you by an inch, but it hit the man right in the side and all of Din’s rage turned to fear when he watched Grogu get thrown over the edge. Even knowing he’d be able to fly after him⏤ it didn’t stop his stomach from turning to lead. Then fear morphed into absolute confusion when he watched you drop your weapon and literally leap over the railing. You disappeared out of sight and seconds later Grogu came flying over the railing back to safety. Din lunged forward to catch the kid before he hit the ground.

“Gev!” Din set Grogu on the ground, pointing at the boy to make it known he was serious, and then Din dove over the edge.

He didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom, what was going through your head. What kind of quarry would stop mid-escape to risk their life in the way you had? You had been in the clear. The smuggler’s let you pass and instead of disappearing when the opportunity presented itself, you came back and stabbed one of them. Din hated to admit it, but he had also been very aware that you stayed in the fight and he had a visceral reaction to watching you get elbowed in the face hard enough to collapse.

It was how the smugglers got the opportunity to grab Grogu.

Like a kriffing idiot, he had gotten distracted and nearly lost his son because of it.

‘He’s a kid.’ Your voice echoed through his head the entire walk to the tarmac. Initially, Din had been confused why you’d trust him to actually catch you. Did you actually know who he was? Your soulmate? And you assumed he’d have to catch you? But, when you admitted that you had no idea he even had a jetpack, Din felt floored. You hadn’t jumped over the edge trusting he’d catch you. You jumped over the edge thinking it was going to be the last thing you ever did, and you did it to save a stranger. No, a kid. That’s what you said. The look on your face, the tone of your voice, it was natural instinct for you. The obvious choice.

You hadn’t given sacrificing your life for a child a second thought.

Din hadn’t decided yet if that made you honorable or insane.

A thought drifted through him before he could stop it. It was an action taken right out of a Mandalorian’s playbook. He forced it out of his head. You were not a Mandalorian. You were a quarry wanted for slave trading. A quarry. His soulmate quarry. Dank farrik. Din lowered the ramp of the Razor Crest and led you on.

“Can I use the fresher before you shove me in carbonite?” Din did a double take at your words⏤ a common occurrence with you he was learning. You seemed to be entirely serious with your request though. You shrugged nonchalantly. “Being frozen with a full bladder is miserable.”

“You’ve been in carbonite before?”

You paused then pointed to your face with a tight lipped smile. “Bounty.”

“I’m not putting you in carbonite.” Din replied. He ignored the confusion drawn on your features and closed the ramp. Din then unlatched the binders and pointed down the very short hall. When Peli had rebuilt the Crest for him he had it modified for just a bit more space, but the fresher was nearly laid out in the same position. “Fresher’s that way. There’s no weapons in there.”

Din wanted to get the ship up in the air right now, but he didn’t trust you not to make a break for it. He got Grogu settled with a ration bar and then he perched himself on the edge of a supply crate facing toward the fresher. While waiting, Din pulled your weapon out from his belt and admired the metal work. A slugthrower. Impressive. He hadn’t seen one in a hot minute, and this one was built by someone who knew what they were doing. The dark metal was carved with swirls and designs of gold. The handle carved in wood and ivory. Though he hadn’t seen one in ages, Din was familiar with firearms. He popped out the ornate cylinder and raised an eyebrow at the single slug loaded in. All other five slots were empty.

The other weapon you carried was a simple metal dagger. Not as rare, but vibroblades were more popular.

The mystery of who you were seemed to grow with every second he was stuck with you.

Din set the firearm down by his thigh and unintentionally his hand drifted up to rest over his left ribcage where your words stained his skin. ‘Would you really arrest your soulmate?’ All those years he thought those words, rolled them around in his head, there was a sharp difference. Now, he heard the words in your voice rather than his own. Even once he rid himself of you, that would linger.

He heard you shifting in the fresher and drew his own blaster to rest on his thigh⏤ pointed toward where you’d be, but with the trigger finger resting on the side of the weapon. He didn’t think he’d need to use it, but if Din had learned one thing about you thus far it was that you were unpredictable.

The fresher doors slid open and you stepped out. When your eyes landed on him, you let out a huff and lifted your hands in surrender. “You did a lot of work to just shoot me now.” Din motioned to the ladder leading up into the cockpit with his blaster. “You… want me to climb?” He pushed off the crate and gave a single nod. “Yeah, alright, sure.” You sighed and walked to the ladder. You paused to glance over your shoulder to Grogu who was still scarfing down his ration bar. “Your dad is kind of a dick. Anybody tell you that before?”

“Buir!” Grogu laughed and followed it with babbling.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” You mumbled to yourself and began to climb. Din followed. He wanted answers from you as much as he wanted to get off this world. At the top of the ladder, Din passed you and ushered you into the cockpit. He pointed to the passenger seat and didn’t miss how you rolled your eyes before dropping down. Din took his own seat, but spun the pilot’s chair around to face you first. He pulled the binders from his belt.

“Hands.” He ordered.

“Oh, good.” You smirked and offered him your wrists. “I was starting to miss these things.”

Din clamped them in place then turned back to begin lift off. It wasn’t until hyperspace that he turned back around, and Din was startled to see your eyes had been drooping closed. At his movement, they snapped open once more and your posture stiffened. He took the moment to really soak you in. Specifically, he let his eyes trace the golden band around your neck⏤ the lights of hyperspace reflected off the material same as it did his own beskar. At first glance, he’d label it a gaudy accessory that didn’t match the worn down nature of the rest of your outfit. However, even from here Din could see the faint scars that half hid under the gold.

It wasn’t a necklace. It was a collar.

“What now, bucket head?”

“Now, you tell me why someone who is clever enough to escape multiple bounty hunters is reckless enough to visit another cantina right after running into me.”

You shrugged. “Maybe you’re not as intimidating as you think you are.”

Din leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, “All the other hunters find you in bars as well. Why’s a slave trader visiting every cantina in the galaxy?”

He really doubted the backstory the bounty puck was giving him now, seeing the metal that adorned your neck, but Din wanted to see your reaction. There was a brief flash of anger across your face, gone as quick as it came, and Din could tell you were biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from saying whatever words were spinning around in your head right now. Finally, you smirked, “I’m on the search for the galaxy’s best cocktail.” You leaned forward. “You wouldn’t believe what world is in the lead, Mandalorian.”

Din wasn’t sure what was more ironic⏤ that fate lumped him together with a quarry or that fate picked a person who never knew when to shut up. He shook his head, “You asked me earlier what it would take to get me off your back.” Your eyes marginally widened. “Do you still want to know?”

“Name it.” You answered.

“I want answers.” He stressed and watched as your jaw locked in irritation again. “What are you searching the galaxy for?”

For a long moment, you just stared at him. Din could see you analyzing him. It was that simple action, and the way he saw you sizing him up when you first met, that told him you weren’t just some mouthy, arrogant idiot. You were clever. It was probably how you escaped so many bounty hunters in the past.

You shrugged, “Revenge.”

The answer didn’t necessarily startle him. It was only revenge, love, and greed that could have someone dedicate so much time to their end goal. Piecing together the parts of the puzzle he had gave him a blurry image. Din nodded, “Whoever you’re going after, do they deserve it?”

“Yes.” You replied without even a pause. “They do.”

You didn’t fully understand the line of questioning being thrown your way, but considering the options it wasn’t the worst scenario you found yourself in. The Mandalorian had turned back around without another word after asking you his last question and it now left you sitting in your seat exhausted and confused. More than anything you craved sleep. After your last 24 hours that wasn’t surprising. What did surprise you was how easily you were dozing off while being in this too small cockpit with the Mandalorian bounty hunter. It was like your stupid body didn’t perceive him as a current threat.

Maybe he wasn’t. He said he wasn’t going to throw you in the carbonite freezer, and from what you knew about Mandalorians they were the type who held honor above nearly everything else. You had given your freedom to save his kid and you prayed he didn’t take that action lightly.

“I have another question.” The Mandalorian spoke without turning.

“Alright, but if you get another one then I’m allowed one now too.” You argued.

You just barely saw the tilt of his helmet in agreement. A part of you hoped he was done questioning you about your goals in life. It wasn’t a topic you wanted to explore any further with this stranger. But, the Mandalorian caught you off guard by veering far away from his previous questions.

“What you said when we met…” He hummed, “What did you mean by that?”

“The soulmate thing?” You snorted. “Yeah, hilarious, isn’t it? You spooked me for a second with how quiet you got after I said it, but now I know silence is just your go-to intimidation tactic, bucket head.” From where you sat you could see him stiffen and assumed it was from your chosen nickname for him. “Does your kind even have soulmates? Do I need to explain⏤”

“My kind?” He finally glanced over at you.

“Yeah. Whatever you are.”

“I’m human.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, you’re not allowed to sound so surprised that I didn’t know. You’re covered from head to toe in metal, and I just assumed you were the same kind as your kid.”

“Grogu was…adopted.” He replied.

Huh. Grogu. That was the kid’s name. Well, that was one of two that you got. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees after he turned back around to scan a map on the control panel. “So? What do I call you then? What’s your name?”

“Mando. You can call me Mando.”

“Mando as in Mandalorian?” You laughed. “Maker, even ‘bucket head’ is more imaginative than that. You seriously go by that?” Mando didn’t reply and you snickered some more under your breath before leaning back. “I’ll consider it, bucket head.”

You could hear him mumble a string of words that you were going to assume was his native language. You'd also assume he was cursing. That's usually the response you got. The cockpit was filled with the comfortable silence of hyperspace and despite being seated on a metal chair, you began to doze off again. It was getting harder and harder to keep your heavy lids open, and faintly you thought you heard the Mandalorian speak once more before you lost the battle against unconsciousness.

“Sleep, mirdala runi. You’re safe.”

mando'a translations:

gev: stop (stay) /// buir: Parent (father) /// mirdala runi: Clever soul

taglist: @onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl @garbo-lesbo @moonlqghts @stokeholdsblogdsblog @morks-watermelon @http-onie

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #female reader #reader insert

676 notes · View notes

anime-owo-kage-san · 8 months ago

Text

Mindless Kindness (Freakshow!Funnybunny)

(Pomni is still favored by Caine in this fic, but, not in a Showtime sense. He’s more on just making sure his shiny new addition, isn’t getting ruined too soon.)

Forgive me if they’re out of character, or I got something wrong. I wasn’t sure how to make this work. The characters personalities are moslty from my personal headcannons, and assumptions about them.

Also, while I think hootbon stated Caine is more lenient with both Pomni and AIngle, for this, he just likes Pomni a little bit more.

Jax x Pomni aren’t canon in the AU. I just like the ship.

Freakshow belongs to: @hootbon

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Pomni was never one to speak her mind.

Well…maybe she was. But, not anymore.

Because, apparently trying to express your human feelings, can get you killed or demented. (Or in Ragatha’s case; permanently silenced).

Although she’ll just come back, because death isn’t possible in this world (except for one type of dying…), it’s still not a pleasant thing to experience, whether it be by an accident during an adventure, or by the hands of the ringleader, or by the hands of the other trapped members.

After her first encounter with the twins, Pomni avoided Gangle like the plague. The living teary eyed porcelain mask, turned out to be just as violent and murderous as her ‘sister’; resulting in the wooden ballerina’s first ‘Game Over’.

And she never wanted to repeat the mistake she made ever again.

But at the moment; there she was, confused with her own internal debating, of whether to approach the twins once more or not.

Pomni was just planning on sleeping for the rest of the leisure hour, until Caine called them up for showtime again. She wasn’t expecting to pass by, a scene like…. this.

Right before her eyes, were the twisted twins. Gangle wasn’t really doing anything, only silently watching behind her conjoined sister, as she carried on with her sadistic joke.

AIngle was once again puppeteering the lifeless Kaufmo with her ribbons. Making him dance, smile, and wave, at an uncomfortable Jax, who was trying to be nonchalant about the cruel joke.

“Jax ol’ buddy! It’s me! Wanna joke around?” AIngle said, using her Kaufmo voice. “C’mon, let’s do something together!”

“Come on, bunny rabbit. Don’t you think it’s rude to ignore you best friend?” AIngle said using her regular voice, as she shook the clown around.

Gangle tried to intervene, “I-I don’t think you should—“

“I don’t think I asked you to speak.” AIngle cut off her timid half.

Gangle squeaked and stayed quiet.

Jax rolled his eyes to hide his discomfort. Just the thought of his dead friend, being puppeteered for shows made him sick in the stomach. And now this twisted ribbon freak, wants to fuck with his head, even off stage.

“I’m not… in the mood for this…” He tried to sound less in pain, and attempted to walk away.

But just like that, the ribbons holding the clown up, carried him over the rabbit’s head, and blocked his way.

Jax passing through the right, but Kaufmo was dragged and used to block that way as well. He tried to take a step to the left, but it resulted in the same way.

“Not until you gimme a good hug!” After saying that, the clown’s arms were spread open slightly leaning towards the rabbit, who instinctively leaned back.

“Kaufy and I don’t hug.” Jax said, a little too aggressively, when he turned back to the twisted twin.

“Well, Kaufmo back then didn’t. This one does!” AIngle said, inching Kaufmo closer to Jax, who stepped back even more. “I can make him do whatever I want. Including hugging and kissing his pathetic pet bunny.”

As she says that, she dragged the body closer to Jax. The lifeless arms almost touching his shoulders.

Jax, moved back again, unknowingly backing himself against the body of ribbons, until he was trapped in between her and the clown.

AIngle started making kissing sounds, that made Jax cringe, “Mwah mwah! Come on buddy, lemme pet behind your ears! Don’t you miss me?”

‘Kaufmo’ started getting closer, Jax gritted his teeth, and turned his head away.

Pomni continued to watch, her face scrunching in disgust, as she watched the incredibly fucked up scene. A part of her felt bad for the rabbit. Though he wasn’t, nor will ever be, Pomni’s favorite person in the circus, this was too far of a joke. Whether a jackass like Jax deserved it or not.

Nobody deserved to be taunted, with the corpse of someone they were close to.

She wouldn’t want to see this happening to Kinger with his wife, or Gangle with Ragatha, or herself with anyone she might consider close to to her.

You know what? Fuck it.

She died once, it’s bound to happen again.

May as well try and get used to it.

It might even save her of what’s left of her sanity, if she tries to adapt to the feeling.

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, she made her way to them.

Pomni admits, part of her wished she was less brazen with her words, but that spur of the moment part of her, spoke without thinking. “AIngle. Fuck off.”

Understandably caught off guard, the AI sister stopped with her taunting and turned her head to the ballerina.

Gangle and Jax, who were also equally surprised, looked at Pomni with wide eyes.

Confusing changed to irk, as she raised her eyebrow at the wooden doll. “Excuse me? I must’ve misheard you back there.”

“Then let me repeat myself. Fuck off.” Pomni said, more aggressively. No turning back now. It’d be more embarrassing to take it back.

“Puppeteering these bodies are for the show. Not for your entertainment. Put the clown back with the other bodies, and stop messing with Jax.” Pomni said, in a commanding tone.

“And why do you suddenly care about the bunny? Doesn’t everyone hate him? I say, I’m doing something nice for everyone else he messed with.” AIngle said, her lips curling up in a smirk. Though, anyone with eyes could tell, she was still pissed.

“He’s already fucked in the head as it is. There’s no need for you to make him an even bigger psycho, and an even bigger problem.” Pomni replied.

She wasn’t sure if that was her reason. Actually, she not even sure, what her reason for defending Jax could be. Sure she felt bad, but she’s not usually risking her life to defend someone. Even if she won’t be dead forever. Still, that didn’t stop her.

AIngle let go Kaufmo’s body and let it drop to the ground. “And what makes you think, you can tell me what to do?” She jabbed her ribbon hand, at the center of Pomni’s face, where her nose should be.

“You’re not abstracted yet. But, I can still take over your body, and turn you into a real ventriloquist dummy. The best part? You’d be conscious to see how I can easily control you!” She threatens the brunette doll, grinning evilly at her.

“You can….” Pomni said, her voice cracking, her nervousness showing. But quickly as it slipped, she put her brave face back on. “But, you won’t!”

“Remember? I’m Caine’s favorite. If you try to do anything to me before I even abstract, he’d be really pissed at you for ruining his prized possession.”

Pomni internally cringed at herself for that one. She doesn’t usually like playing that card. She never really cared for the favoritism. So long as she’s not on Caine’s bad side, that’s enough for her.

But at this moment, she was doing and saying the exact opposite of what she would usually do.

“Oooh~! Prima Failerina’s suddenly using her princess privileges~?” AIngle said in a mocking tone. Still, Pomni didn’t miss that eye twitch.

She brought her face closer to the doll, staring her down. “Little bitch, suddenly wants to use the ringmaster as a shield, huh.”

She moved her face away, but her eyes remained on her. And continued, “You’re only favored for your pretty face. You’re lucky to be brought into this world, in this body. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be interesting in any way to him. You mean as much to Caine, as a brand new doll means to a child. Once you get tattered and depreciated, he won’t care if you’re safe or not.”

Jax had already moved away from the mask, but was too intrigued by the scene before him to leave.

AIngle let out a dry laugh, “But, you’re right…” She said bitterly. “As Caine’s precious doll, I can’t hurt you on purpose.”

She shrugged. “But, I can ignore you. And do whatever I want with the others. Since, I won’t be in trouble for messing with the already depreciated toys.”

She turned away from Pomni, and picked Kaufmo back up. “Ohhh bunny boy~!” She called out, as her ribbons wrapped around Jax and pulled him back in for another game of dead dolls.

“Would you get off me, freak!” Jax tried to wriggle out of the ribbons.

“Why should I? I’m giving you more time with your friend.” AIngle started letting put sadistic giggles, and she continued her own self-entertainment.

“Let go of him, and put Kaufmo back.” Pomni butted in once again.

“And what are you gonna do? Little miss wooden joints?” AIngle taunted again, looking down at Pomni. “I may not be able to do whatever I want with you, without getting an earful from Caine. But, what can YOU do other than yap at me like a stubborn chihuahua?”

Pomni silently glared at her for a couple of seconds, her eyes narrowed and face infuriated. Her fist clenched and shaking.

She then moved her eyes to an object on the ground.

It was Jax’s bat. A large piece of wood with a disturbing amount of nails hammered into it. He must’ve dropped it in the middle of the trying to avoid Kaufmo’s body.

Pomni didn’t know why, but she walked towards it, and picked it up. She then made her way back to the grinning twin.

“Haha! You wouldn’t.” AIngle said with a confident voice. “Not after the last time.”

Acting without thinking, Pomni replied, “If it’ll get you to finally fuck off… then I’ll take my chances.” And she swung the bat towards the grinning piece of porcelain.

The force of the bat cracked the twin into several pieces, the nails also cutting into the ribbons restraining Jax, setting him free.

Pomni immediately pulled Jax away from Gangle and shoved him away as hard she could.

Just as she had already anticipated, Gangle started having another meltdown. Her face contorted into a horrific frown, and her ribbons lunged at Pomni, wrapping around her neck and waist.

Pomni was brutally thrashed around a few times, before the corrupted Gangle dragged her off somewhere else to slowly murder.

Jax was just there… on the ground. Staring off to where the ballerina was dragged off to.

He looked at Kaufmo, whose body was abandoned on the floor, and little bits of porcelain next to him.

The rabbit stood up and walked towards lifeless clown, picking him up and positioning him in a piggyback ride.

As he carried his friend, the image of the wooden doll’s face flashed back in his mind.

Eh….

He wasn’t good at saying ‘thank you’, nor did he like saying it. So, he won’t be thanking Pomni.

But, he’ll be sure to say something to her when she comes back.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I’ll probably make a part two.

Tbh, it was pretty hard trying to make them in character in this AU, while still shipping them. I’m a Funnybunny shipper, but when it comes to the Freakshow AU, I lean more towards Showtime. But, I wanted to take up the challenge of trying to make them ‘shippable’ even in this AU.

So what do you guys think….?

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc freakshow #freakshow au #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc gangle #freakshow pomni #freakshow jax #freakshow gangle #funnybunny #freakshow funnybunny #pomni x jax

90 notes · View notes

snoocupz · 8 months ago

Note

okay I'm a sucker for a rare pair and even more for a rare pair ot3...pls propagandize me im very curious :0

Hi! Oh my god, that makes me SO happy! I never expect my little shipart to get this much attention - let alone have people like the ship and wanting me to talk about it!

I wasn't sure whether I want to share my whole headcanons about them getting together yet or not, and decided to instead collect some headcanons about these 3 that I love! So here;

My little collection on Klapolloquill headcanons! 🩷

- Simon and Klavier have briefly been friends before Simon went to jail. Klavier, as a new and young prosecutor, desperately seeked contact in the office and loved Simons style from the start. Dark clothes, an interest for music and an ex bass player - all while still being somewhat of a nerd abour psychology & birds. He had tried to build up an active friendship to him - unfortunately it was cut short due to Simon admitting to murderer and going to jail. (Klavier should feel this pain again in the following years as not only his best friend Daryan, but also brother go to jail).

- Once finally free past Dual Destinies Apollo and Simon build up some sort of friendship thanks to Athena. Quickly they realise they were mistaken about each others characters and after a whole they start to bond on a deeper level due to the trauma they had experienced... mostly because of Apollo losing Clay, and Simon losing Bobby. (Bonus angst points if Claypollo and Blackbright were secretly canon and they bond over the loss of their ex lovers).

- Klapollo starts dating first. Klavier had feelings for Apollo early on after meeting him, but it took a lot of time and change for them to finally get together.

- Klavier, however, is also the one who is self aware about being Polyam. He previously had crushes on more than one person at the same time and once time passes and he builds up the friendship to Simon he wanted to have he eventually starts crushing on him. Hard.

- He confesses his crush to Apollo, fearing the worst. It is a huge insecurity of his and he doesn't get it across without tears and apologies, clarifying how much he loves Apollo as well, just to be... very perplexed about how calmly Apollo takes it. In fact, Apollo starts gently teasing Klavier about his obvious crush. He finds him adorable, blushing when looking at Simon like this. Apollo is ultimately the one who convinces Klavier to ask Simon out.

- Unknowingly Simon has a little crush on Apollo anyways. This young defense attorney shines brighter than any sun, he is smart, pretty, such a gentle and stronger soul than he believes of himself. Simon enjoys himself around the both of them, so endlessly much, and with passing time Simon feels lovable again, after prison and losing Bobby (the only person that made him feel lovable before).

- Eventually all 3 shyly allow themselves to get closer. Especially Klavier with his gigantic crush on Simon can hardly believe it everytime he gets to sit between both of them on the couch. Just having his knee slightly touch Simons makes his head spin and they keep smiling at each other more when passing each other on the prosecutor halls.

- And hey! Who would have thought! They fall in love! Each of them, with one another. And in fact, their ideas of love fit together perfectly. All 3 of them long for nothing more but a calm, domestic lifestyle.

- What that looks like...? Easy. A cozy apartment, many plants, falling asleep cuddling, with one cat and one dog at the side. Breakfast on the balcony as Klavier slurps his vanilla latte, Simon makes them eggs, and Apollo tries to stop Taka from stealing bacon straight from his bagel.

- Mikeko (Apollos cat) adores Simon. No day passes where this cat doesn't chose to sit on his legs or lap. Whenever the cat chooses him, Simon is careful to not move a single inch. May she rest as long as she wants to!

- Taka (Simons hawk) adores Apollo. After being afraid of her for months (sorry, Taka has always been female in my brain LMAO) Apollo realises that she is not only well behaved but also seeks active contact to him. Simon falls even more in love with him when seeing Apollo feed the bird on the balcony and daring to pat her feathery head.

- Vongole (first Kristophs, then Klaviers dog) is the most sweetest girl of girls. Greeting all of them with enthusiasm and DEMANDING to sleep in the bed at all times, she won each of their hearts and can be considered the true Queen of the house!

- However, it can be complicated to cuddle, ESPECIALLY if you are Simon Blackquill, and a living cuddle sized heater. He must always sleep in the middle automatically as Apollo loves to rest his head on his chest while Klavier has the most freeziest hands in the history of forever. And yes, he will randomly warm his hands under Simons shirt at every possible moment.

- Funnily enough, their household works very smoothly together. Apollo cooks at most, but his desk easily looks like it explodes after one use. He keeps leaving things around and forgetting about them. Simon cleans, and he has no issue cleaning after Apollo at times. Klavier is the one to take the dog and plan their dates, and no date has ever been dissapointing, he's fantatsic at planning them!

So at most! This ship is really fluffy and comforting in my eyes, so here are some random thoughts on them! Thanks for listening to me rambling! <3

#ace attorney #aa #apollo justice #klavier gavin #simon blackquill #klapollo #klavquill #justquill #simollo #klapolloquill

91 notes · View notes

naomihatake · 1 year ago

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 7)

7. What do you wish for?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

⠀⠀⠀⠀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: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence, tiny bit comfort at the end

Word count: 8,4 k

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

A/N: I'm glad I could finish the chapter so early and there are some scenes in here that I really loved writing. Also, I want you to pay close attention to the fight Witch has with the fishman. The anime watchers and manga readers that got far enough with One Piece will probably get it faster ;)

I'd be happy to hear your opinions on this chapter. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

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

"What is your dream?"

While she would've rather expected that question to come from Luffy, the tipsy Zoro by her side, leaned against the mast, seemed to be rather intrigued by her reasons to remain with Luffy.

When she turned her head towards him, one of her suppositions was proved to be right: the stars above shone beautifully, but nothing could compare to the swordsman's brown eyes. In the dark, his dark chocolate irises were swallowed by pupils dark as the depths of the oceans. No. Dark and beautiful as the night sky she teared her gaze away from.

Her silence could've been interpreted in many ways and Zoro might become suspicious, but his already flushed state seemed to swallow everything in. He only looked back at her.

The witch couldn't exactly spot the specific aura of his gaze. He wasn't only flushed because of the alcohol, no. He seemed… soft, even. His shoulders were relaxed and the grip on the empty bottle loosened up.

His question was simply something she didn't expect, as he was always down to earth, similarly to Nami. However, there was a tiny difference — he proudly admitted he wanted to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

"I—," the word left her lips like a mere whisper.

Her determination faltered under the weight of the alcohol. Until that moment, after sharing some ugly parts of her past, his remarks made her laugh and chuckle happily.

"I want to be free."

One simple wish that could have so many connotations.

"I don't see any rope around your wrists."

His voice was like a low rumble coming from the depths of his chest, such a pleasant and soothing sound.

Their eye contact didn't break. Their gazes were locked together and she couldn't bring herself to be mad about it, especially when she was drunk enough to let vulnerable sides of her poor soul see the light of the stars.

Faint, shy, but it was there.

"I want to be free from myself and the expectations everyone has of me," she clarified. "Free from the rules of the world, written or unwritten. Free from the Marines that are now on my tail."

"Why did you become a pirate if you wanted to be free from the Navy?"

"The sea always looked like a place where I could be free," she admitted with a weak voice. The same tiny voice her younger self used to have when dreaming of a future.

Zoro knitted his eyebrows together and blinked, staring at the small beauty mark on her face he just noticed. He seemed deep in thought or rather trying to figure out the meaning of her words.

He was rarely so concentrated outside of critical situations like fights.

"Are you free now, then?"

With a gulp, she shook her head.

"No."

One word. One heavy weight on her soul.

"How do you wanna be free?" came another question from the swordsman.

"I have no clue."

The cage around her was a metaphor. She always felt like iron bars squeezed her tighter and tighter, until she broke down, a situation that occurred only a few times a year and was always hidden from prying eyes.

Realistically, there was no free place in that world. The Marine wasn't by any means as righteous as they wanted to look like and they were certainly not saviors. Of course, there were plenty of pirates that did nothing else but harm everyone and everything they laid eyes on. Some of them had ugly souls, dark and dirtied by greed.

However, there were plenty of people that were so-called pirates and yet never harmed unless they had to protect someone. Like Luffy or Usopp. They never took anyone's life.

Like her father.

She wasn't one of those pirates. The witch has killed people, even if never solely for blood thirst. Or, at least, not yet. She deserved to die, to never see the light of a new day.

A personal justice system — that's what she's always had, that's what she grew to learn about from the crew she left barely a year ago.

Deep down, she knew she would never be free. There was no liberty for a monster.

When she looked at Zoro, she also wanted him to taste freedom on his tongue. Maybe he already knew what that felt like.

If she couldn't find her own freedom, she could settle for protecting her friends' freedom. That would be more than enough, right?

"Aren't you at fault for your own lack of freedom?" Zoro pulled her out of her thoughts.

His question might've sounded as insensitive and accusing, but she was aware the swordsman didn't mean it that way. He always had his own way with words and, unfortunately, he got misinterpreted most of the time.

He was simply stating a probable truth.

Then I suppose I should get rid of my—

No. There was no time to think of such things, even if she was drunk and vulnerable. Admitting that to his face would be shameful of her.

Maybe she wasn't that ready to share secrets yet, was she?

"I most probably am," the witch whispered as she averted her eyes back to the sky splattered with stars. "At the end of the day, I'm the only one taking into account what others say and how they affect me."

She didn't know exactly how to pursue freedom, but she was certain of something else: if that beautiful future stood in front of her, Zoro was probably one of the ways to find out.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch wasn't able to find freedom if she died at that moment, with the blue hand of a fishman gripping at her throat. There was a lingering ache at the crown of her head from when he pushed her against the wall.

Her eyes squeezed shut while life seemed to slip from her hold, the same way her fingers lost their force while clutching onto the fishman's forearm. She had to find a way to get out of there, to breathe, because her lungs were already begging for some oxygen. Her vision was getting blurry and the pain in her entire throat spread like fire through her body.

Maybe it was because of her hyper-aware state, but she could swear the wound on her bicep was bloody again considering the sharp pain shooting through her arm.

No. There was no time to die and beg for forgiveness — and whose forgiveness could she ask for if she stays alive? Exactly. No one's.

The witch didn't know if she breathed in air or it just felt awfully familiar to that sensation, but her lungs suddenly swallowed something fresh and powerful. It ate the pain hungrily, destroying every doubt in her mind the more she thought of her promises, of the corpse of a father who still whispered in her dreams "go find your freedom".

The grip on the fishman's arm grew tighter, stronger, until her nails dug into the scales and penetrated them. Her fingers ached, the skin around her nails scratched harshly by the sharp broken scales. Fresh blood surfaced.

Her eyes opened up slowly, burning with each one of her promises, this time including her own — If I can't find freedom, I'll make it.

Every nerve in her body burnt and she tasted drugs on the tip of her tongue, an addiction threatening to clutch onto her and take control.

Power.

The witch has never been one to love power, to ache for it and yet, there she was, with a devil-like grin growing on her face.

Power.

It ate her alive and she loved that sensation. The steadiness of her heartbeats, the cage of ribs that broke to make place for that overwhelming feeling.

Power will never take control of me.

Her eyes bore holes through the fishman's entire being. There was no need for her revolver when two shining irises had the same effect.

Her vision and mind has never been clearer.

The fishman was struck. A weight settled on his shoulders, pulling him down, doubts flickering in his head.

Claws sank into his eyes, into his face and throat, clutching at his heart, threatening to pull it out of his chest.

The fishman stumbled and dropped her.

His strong grip on her throat left blooming red marks. They were ugly and her neck felt tender, but her nerves didn't register the pain properly because of the adrenaline running through her veins.

The witch immediately took the opportunity, despite the lack of air in her lungs. She crouched down to take her gun, but before she could shoot again, a loud sound got her attention.

The door of the restaurant broke at the floor underneath her when Luffy got thrown right into it by Arlong.

On the side of the stairs where Usopp crawled down was Sanji struggling to get back up after he cracked his back at the harsh contact with a table.

People were hiding under chairs and bars from the fishmen's wrath.

Her anger was fueled by each single detail. One of her shoulders felt light, while the other was heavy. The monster lurking inside her had one eye open — the same one that pushed her to cuss out Mihawk back when Zoro got a cut through his chest. The same monster she wouldn't trade anything for, because wrath has always been her forte.

The small flame of revenge started burning in the pits of her stomach. Steadily. Still vague, easy to control.

She ran down the stairs and passed by Usopp, who was at that moment helping Sanji get on his feet. The witch got out of Baratie, suddenly stopping in her tracks when she saw Arlong standing a few meters in front of her.

That fucker—

Luffy shouted something along the lines of Gum Gum and she knew that was his fight to deal with.

However, it was a fight she didn't know if he would win at that time, considering the way Arlong only turned his head to the side when he got punched in the face by Luffy's fists. The fishman spat blood on the wooden floor while he stepped closer and closer to the Straw Hat.

In a fraction, the punch Luffy received sent him flying in the sails of a boat and he fell down with a thud, grunting. It was stupid of him to provoke Arlong further, but Luffy has never been to give up or let his enemies feel the satisfaction of a victory without a proper fight.

The witch wondered if her captain didn't break a rib or two after being punched and thrown around for so long. He still had the energy to throw his fists into Arlong's face with all he's got, using his rubber arms to attack from meters away.

His Devil Fruit powers were definitely the only reason why he was alive.

But not for much longer.

Arlong muttered something with a growl and once he sank his hand in the water, the witch knew it wasn't going to end well.

The fishman didn't just splash Luffy; no, he soaked the Straw Hat to the bone and the hit with both sea water and brute force got Luffy to the ground. It was his biggest weakness.

The witch's eyes widened when she saw Arlong grabbing at Luffy's shirt and lifting him in the air, opening his mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

Her feet carried her for only a second and she almost shouted out for Luffy out of despair — she would rather be stabbed in the stomach countless times than feel helpless again. Out of instinct, the hand holding the gun raised, aiming at—

"Arlong, wait!"

Nami.

The witch snapped her head towards her friend.

The orange-haired woman stomped her feet and came, leaving the Going Merry behind her. The tank-top she wore exposed a strange old tattoo on her left shoulder. She was clutching tightly onto a thin and long cylinder.

"I have it," she addressed Arlong. "I have the map."

The map.

"I got it for you, just like I said I would."

The witch blinked away the confusion that almost made her hazy and stepped in front of Nami, stopping her from moving forward.

"Nami," the witch knitted her eyebrows together. "What's going on?"

Nami's eyes held no clear emotion besides a flicker of anger.

"Exactly what you knew all along."

It was one of those times when the witch wished her tarot was wrong.

She shook her head, one of her hands gripping at Nami's wrist.

"Nami," the witch squeezed her friend's hand tighter, scared it would slip from between her fingers.

"Let go."

Nami snatched her arm out of the witch's hold and her jaw ticked. She wasn't only annoyed, there had to be more in her eyes.

"You cannot possibly tell me you want to do this," the witch insisted, stepping even closer, until she was one breath away from the navigator.

Their intense gazes clashed together and none of them let the walls fall.

"But here I am, ain't I?" Nami cocked an eyebrow.

When the orange-haired passed by, her shoulder collided harshly with the witch's who was still stuck in place.

No fucking way.

The witch needed time to think, she had to search for some clarification with her tarot cards. She needed more time to read the energy, to figure out the situation, to understand what, where, why and when. Nothing made sense and time passed by so fast she couldn't even process it all.

Luffy was so disoriented he didn't even pour enough force in his hands to get rid of Arlong's grip on the collar of his shirt.

"Nami?" he firmly spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I tried to tell you, Luffy," Nami continued walking towards him. "I was never on Your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

"I don't believe that," Luffy denied.

"That's because you only believe what you want to believe. Doesn't make it true."

Nami, for fuck's sake, we both know you're lying—

The witch opened her mouth, ready to argue, to yell from the top of her lungs, but with one glance thrown to Arlong, she stopped. Saying the wrong thing might get Nami in great danger and she might lose credibility in front of him.

"Sister Nami's a loyal member of the Arlong Pirates," Arlong started speaking, pointing with his chin towards the one in question. "She has been for years."

The witch didn't know why she still protected Nami, but she was certainly not going to give up on her friend at that time.

Nami shoved the map in Arlong's nose to get his attention to her — or maybe the witch has gotten to another level of delusion.

"Why waste your time killing a Devil Fruit eater?" Nami reminded the fishman as if it wasn't a death sentence. "Let the sea do it for you."

"Nami, this is too far, cut the crap—" the witch revolted immediately.

Before she could make any step towards Luffy, she was grabbed by the back of her neck and launched into the wall of Baratie with sheer force — it was one of Arlong's asshole crewmates. She groaned in pain and squeezed her eyes. The shoulder she fell on sent sharp spikes through the entire left side of her body.

She cussed out, struggling to get back to her feet when Arlong let Luffy drown in the sea. The witch let out a shout of the Straw Hat's name and one of her knees betrayed her, resulting in another unceremonious fall to the ground.

Lucky for her, an arm curled around her front to help her up, a silver ring resting on the finger of the man.

"Luffy fell in the water, go now!" she didn't even wait to be properly raised to her feet to urge Sanji to jump.

Her aching body and the lack of strength wouldn't help her get Luffy out of the sea. She didn't even clearly notice when the cook left her side and jumped into the sea, too caught up in the agitation inside of her. Events passed by her faster than light. All she saw was a discarded shirt.

She wasn't sure because of what powers she managed to walk on the deck, at the edge where the other two should appear from under the water. Her head turned when she recognized Usopp from her peripherals.

"Luffy?" he asked, panic building up as his hands shook.

The witch would have responded if not for the answer to appear right under their noses. Sanji held Luffy tightly by the collar and pushed him on the dock with Usopp's help who dragged him.

The witch extended her hand to bring Sanji on the dock with them and since then, things turned blurry despite her open eyes.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Now the only woman in the crew, the witch sat on the floor in the room that used to be Nami's, her back leaning back against the wooden wall. With eyes devoid of life, she stared up at the ceiling while pulling her knees closer to her chest, once again trying to hide herself from everyone. From everything.

On Nami's bed there was still an inert swordsman and he didn't even flinch when she tentatively said his name after entering the room.

"Fucking dammit," she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nami left. Zoro was unconscious. Luffy almost drowned if not for Sanji. Usopp was bluffing about how "everything has to be alright".

She didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or her.

Because everything was wrong. It felt wrong.

The witch took in a deep breath, but only half of the oxygen she inhaled got to her lungs and brain because of her constricted throat. Tears were sitting on her waterline for the fourth time that day.

Too much happened since the crack of dawn and it wasn't even sunset.

Exhaustion made her look years older than she was. Her head fell forward, forehead hitting her knees before the light sneaking through the windows could fall on her face.

Tears filled with anguish ran down her cheeks and it was the first time she allowed herself to let at least an ounce of the weight on top of her body dissipate. The droplets of pain melted down her cheeks and sank into the material of her shirt.

The witch sneaked her arms around the back of her thighs and squeezed herself tighter in a ball, lips trembling. Her breathing was ragged not only because of the lump in her throat, but also because of the firm grip that fishman had on her neck. The skin was sensitive to the touch and it hurt to swallow.

Every event of that day got added one on top of another. Her fight with Zoro, the fact that he was unconscious after that dwell, Nami leaving just like the witch expected to.

Betrayal. Maybe I was a fool for trusting her.

Or am I?

Teeth sank so deeply into her lower lip it drew blood and she tasted copper on the tip of her tongue.

Pain. That was right.

The only right thing happening that day was the physical pain. Palpable, real, bringing her back to earth.

Except that time it failed, because the tears didn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut as sharp pain traveled through her body, from her chest into her limbs, puncturing each nerve, shaking her to the core.

Her soul screamed, caged by sorrow, an ugly animal that sank its fangs into her flesh and ripped from the inside. Blood was pouring from her heart, soaking organs and bones, melting into the skin like acid. It burnt so fastly, yet it never seemed to end. With a throbbing head, she couldn't hold the pain back anymore.

However, no sound ever left her lips parted in a silent scream. No whimper, no sob, no cry for help. The room was filled with silence as a heartbeat drummed in her ears in an agonizing rhythm.

I shouldn't have come on this ship in the first place. Only if I had been wise enough to leave when I got the chance. Syrup Village was a perfect option, I could've gone on another ship and continued my mindless traveling. Why did I bother myself with this? Why did I suddenly decide it was a great idea to be part of another crew when this only has brought me suffering?

With each second, she willingly aimed the gun at herself and every word was like a bullet.

I should've left. I would've been happier. I should've left it all behind when I realized this won't go well. Fuck the premonitions, fuck the destiny, damned be the world.

A body stripped of clothes and skin, only burnt flesh left behind the monster's bites. Broken ribs and a shattered heart pumping a meaningless life.

As seconds passed by one after another and her tears came to an end, the gentle swinging of the ship pulled her into a half-asleep state.

She noticed when Luffy came into the room and she was aware of his position on Zoro's bed — the cracking of the wood gave him away. As the Straw Hat talked, she only heard the swordsman's name being spoken, some words here and there, but most of his monologue was muffled.

He probably thought she was asleep because of her slow and steady breathing.

Exhaustion was clawing at her muscles and brain, but something kept her aware of the surroundings for a few more minutes.

Everything turned pitch black in her perspective. A husky and deep voice made her believe she was dreaming, the tips of her mouth curling shily upwards.

Only if it would've been reality.

"Zoro!"

Her entire body flinched and she raised her head, wide eyed. If she didn't know any better, she would've said her soul jumped out of her.

"Luffy?" she whispered, confused on why he yelled the swordsman's name—

"You're not dead!" Luffy shouted again, loud enough for everyone in Baratie to hear.

He's alive? the witch thought to herself. I really heard his voice.

Luffy crawled on top of Zoro and squeezed the life out of him. Literally.

"Now I wish I was," she heard Zoro mumble between grunts.

He was alive.

The witch's lungs filled with fresh air for the first time that day. Relief washed over her and her body relaxed, shoulders deflating as some of the weight sitting on them fell into the sea below.

While leaning her body against the wall, she managed to get up just to get a better view of the swordsman who was squinting his eyes at the ceiling. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, head falling forward.

At least one thing went right, didn't it?

After Luffy got up from above Zoro, the swordsman managed to take some deep gulps of air, chest raising up and falling rhythmically.

"I had the strangest dream that Nami left," he said with a frown on his face as he closed his eyes.

"She did," the witch responded faintly.

There wasn't enough courage in her to look at him as she said that, instead choosing to glance at the window.

Zoro looked again at the ceiling and realized her voice was too faint for all of that to be a mere joke, a prank thrown at him for staying unconscious for… for how long?

"It's my fault," Luffy said with his chin lowered.

From the corner of his eye, Zoro saw the witch place a hand on their captain's shoulder.

"We'll find a way."

There was a promise etched onto her fragile smile. As if a simple brush of air or one wrong world could make her crumble.

But she didn't. Instead, she threw a knowing look to Zoro and silently told him to talk with Luffy. She knew the Straw Hat needed his first mate's support at that moment.

What confused Zoro the most was watching the witch get out of the room without too much of a word. Her hair bounced as she stepped further away from him and their friends. Even as his ribs and body hurt at every inhale, he wanted to understand the real reason for her leaving.

Last time they talked, she expressed worry. What happened in the meantime? What the fuck went wrong?

There was a fat chance she was still mad at him for whatever reason. Sure, she was calm, collected, but he could swear he's seen fire burning in her eyes more than just once and a grin splayed on her face at the thrill and adrenaline of a fight. She snapped at him when they fought and he had to admit it would've been sadder if she treated him with silence.

However, he didn't know if that was silence or something more.

Weird, he concluded.

His attention went back to Luffy. The swordsman couldn't manage watching the ever happy-go-lucky captain speak like a ghost.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He seriously hoped he could find the right words to bring Luffy back to reality.

There's no way that crew would fall apart without a proper fight. What has been was just the beginning.

"You acted like a captain."

"But the crew is falling apart," Luffy pulled his lips in a tight line.

"No, it's not," the green-haired firmly affirmed.

Maybe a lot more than Zoro thought has happened, but that was definitely not the end.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Before the sun could set and hide in the sea, they gathered some supplies for their new journey. They found out from the clown head — who they found out told Arlong where to find the Straw Hats — that Nami was most probably heading to Conomi Islands, specifically Cocoyashi Village. Sanji joined their crew, which made Luffy jump in excitement for the second time that day.

Luffy's folded arms were resting over the railing of Going Merry while he stared down at the water splashing against the ship.

"Does it always take so long?" Luffy spoke so softly.

Sanji chuckled with the fishing rod in his hand as he waited for a fish to catch the bait.

"We've only been here for two minutes, be patient," the cook reminded him. "Some days, they bite as soon as you drop the line and some days, it takes hours."

Then, he threw a knowing glance towards Luffy with an arch of his eyebrow.

"But we're not talking about fishing, are we?"

"I highly doubt it," the witch mumbled as she curled her fingers around her tarot deck.

She didn't dare to shuffle through the cards again, a side of her afraid of what was waiting for them. It felt uneasy everytime she got the impulse of taking the cards out and finding out which one of them holds the truth.

The witch was leaning with her back against the railing, not so far away from the Straw Hat, pressing her fingertips into the old box made of cardboard that fit perfectly in her hands.

Luffy smiled towards Sanji before he stared into the horizon with hope.

"I just want to know if Nami's okay."

"A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong," Sanji said firmly, convinced of his beliefs. "Nami clearly needs to be rescued."

The witch breathed in deeply and widened her eyes, trying to find the right words to tell them what she knew. A pair of heavy steps caught her attention and she immediately recognized the chiming filling the air.

Zoro. His hand was resting on his Wado Ichimoji — his only sword now.

"Her tattoo says different," he said.

The way he looked at the witch was bringing back to life some shattered pieces of her soul. He might look serene when sleeping, but he was better that way — wide awake and an asshole.

Also, he noticed something she couldn't pinpoint. There must've been a scar on her face, most probably. At first, he only stared at her face, just to lower his gaze. Oh. She didn't sleep for two days and got in a fight with a fishman, which left some nasty bruises on her bare neck.

"Well," Sanji argued, "tattoos don't tell the whole story. And like any woman, she's a mystery to be unraveled."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" the witch arched her eyebrow at the cook after she turned her head towards him.

Right at that moment, Zoro stepped between her and Luffy, restricting her view. All she could see was his chest, bandaged and with a red patch in the center.

"You should change your bandages," she looked up at him.

However, the witch was hesitant when she did so. As if the man in front of her could vanish in thin air.

Zoro turned to Sanji and decided to completely ignore her comment.

"Nami made her choice."

The cook immediately frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. His scowl was deeper than Zoro's.

"You don't know why," Sanji retorted.

As if getting snapped by Usopp, Zoro scoffed:

"The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don't know Nami."

"Sounds like you don't know her either, Mosshead," Sanji spat with a taunting smile on his lips.

"Oh God, stop, you two," the witch sighed heavily, annoyed.

Just to get the swordsman's attention to her, she poked his back with the tip of her finger, digging deep enough to receive a light flinch. It seemed like she took him by surprise. She bent her back more as she continued resting her elbows on the railing to glance at Luffy over Zoro's shoulder.

"I'm sure Nami has her reasons," their captain nodded.

"I know Nami's reason."

All of their heads turned to the witch.

Usopp was just walking up the stairs of the forecastle when his eyes sparkled curiously.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Nami," Zoro said quickly. "Why didn't you say anything until now?" that time, his sharp words were directed to the witch.

The witch shot him a glare, displeased by his reaction. However, she would've acted the same if someone was to hide something so important.

"It would've felt unfair to tell you before talking with her," the witch clarified.

"You talked with her about it?" Usopp suddenly intervened, surprised by the news.

The witch gripped at the tarot deck in between her hands tighter and clicked her tongue, trying to find the best words to explain.

"I did. Somehow," uncertainty latched onto her voice.

None of them rushed her anymore so she took her time.

"Listen, this isn't as easy as it seems to be. Yes, Sanji, she didn't willingly get into Arlong's crew."

A snarky remark sat on the cook's tongue and he wanted to throw it Zoro's way.

"But," the witch continued in order to stop an eventual argument, "she's fully aware of her actions. She was forced by the circumstances to do what she's doing, but it doesn't mean she likes acting like Arlong's crewmate. Nami certainly hates him from the bottom of her heart. He did something. Something that forced her to act like she's a friend just to protect something or someone. Or both. She's not only protecting herself, she's protecting what's most dear to her heart."

It wasn't the witch that spoke, but the gut feeling she had. Her thoughts didn't seem so clear in months, since her last successful tarot reading. Now, as the significance of each card sank into her brain, she knew what everything meant.

It wasn't her that spoke, but her intuition.

"She's keeping us away because she's scared we'd get hurt, not only because we would get in her way. Nami cares about us and that's exactly why she's pushing us away."

"Who does that?" Zoro wondered out loud.

Maybe he should've kept that to himself.

"You do that," the witch's head snapped towards him. "I do it. And Nami does. She said she tricked us — which was true. At the same time, she's tricking Arlong. He isn't her crewmate, he's an asshole that stole something from her—"

The witch got so carried away she didn't even realize what she just said. She suddenly furrowed her eyebrows into the void and received confused looks from her friends.

"He stole something. Her freedom."

Those words were said as she actively figured the details out, staring into the void.

"Witch?" Usopp nudged her.

"Yes?" she turned towards him.

"Did she tell you all these things?"

There was a light chuckle that left her lips at that question.

"The cards did. Her reactions just gave her away and answered my doubts."

The witch knew what games she was playing. She's been doing these things for years and not only — she trusted her gut feeling above everything else.

She received an especially confused look from the cook, who had no clue why she was called a witch. He probably supposed it was because she was beautiful or maybe secretive.

He should've taken that nickname literally.

"What do we do then?" Zoro turned his head towards their captain.

Luffy listened intently to everything the witch had to say and he made up his mind since long ago:

"I want to hear her decision for myself."

"That's for the best," the witch nodded.

There was more she would've liked to say, but speaking from the gut was both easier than usual and harder when tired. Considering the last time she got some proper sleep was before they got attacked by the Marines, she could say it's been long enough for her mind to get clouded.

Stuck in her thoughts as she was, the grip on her tarot deck loosened up and the object fell from her hold on the wooden floor. The witch's exhausted brain registered that too many seconds later.

A deep frown appeared between her eyebrows, blinking in an attempt to clear her vision while she bent down to take the deck in her hand.

Obviously, she failed.

When her back was straight again, her vision went pitch black and a heavy throbbing settled in her temples. The ship swayed worse than a second ago. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

The witch has been in that situation before. She stood still, because attempting to walk would've ended in a passionate kiss with the floor.

When the sensations dissipated little by little, tiredness was everything left behind.

"I'm gonna get some rest," she mumbled, the words a little slurred.

With her eyes now opened wide enough to see where she's heading, she walked towards the stairs and cussed them out one by one.

Falling like an idiot wasn't on her to-do list for that day.

By some miracle, she managed to walk all the way into the galley. The room she shared with Nami was hers, but it was too far away. Her feet barely carried her to the dark red sofa she let her body fall on like a sack.

She didn't care about the clothes she hasn't changed from, too caught up with everything that has happened. There was enough time for a shower later, when exhaustion wasn't seeping into her bones. The only thing she had the decency to do was to take her boots off.

She stretched her legs and put an arm under her head, resting on her side to face the room. Not the most comfortable place to sleep in, but after all of that tumult, nothing mattered anymore.

The sweet sound of jingling disturbed her again.

Oh, god dammit.

She was one breath away from cussing Zoro's ass and his earrings — despite being in ecstasy that he woke up. The witch, as if expecting his next move, bent her knees to make space for him. The swordsman plopped himself down with a grunt at the other side of the sofa and her bare feet touched his thigh.

She didn't dare mutter a word about his presence. Zoro could stay. Gosh, as she was thinkingln about it, she could only believe it was a blessing he wasn't only awake, but also throwing remarks her way.

It was so much better than telling stories of her past to an unconscious Mosshead.

Right.

The edges of her mouth curled in a smile.

"What?"

"Mosshead," she chuckled, eyes still closed.

Zoro let out a scoff and she could imagine him rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Didn't you say you were going to rest?"

His voice was unusually low and even soft, pulling her towards the dreamland.

"I'd say this place is perfect," she mumbled.

The witch didn't bother to explain she was tired out of her mind or that her feet would most likely betray her if she dared to get up.

The silence was filled with their breathing and the sounds of the water splashing against their ship, the cracks of the wood. She remembered the times when she traveled with her father's crew and she would many times fall asleep curled next to a barrel while the vice-captain was still singing sea shanties in the middle of the night.

"Zoro," the witch whispered.

She was too weary to care about what left her mouth. It acted like alcohol — it clouded her mind and she felt shameless.

"What if I wouldn't have stepped on this ship?"

That question plagued her mind and she finally said it out loud.

"So the last ship was more to your taste?" he snickered. "It almost sank in the sea."

"You're such an ass," and while that phrase might've sounded harsh in the past, at that moment it was filled with fondness.

"Been told that before."

I really missed that voice.

"For someone with a big ass bruise on your neck, you sound more like a coward than I thought."

Maybe she deserved that serious tone thrown her way. Was he right? Only halfway through.

"No," she was stubborn enough to fight the sleep for a few more minutes. "What if I would've been happier? Y'know, less worries, no people to haunt my ass. No anxiety."

No crying over you for being almost dead.

The continuation sat on the tip of her tongue and got swallowed back with a gulp. Was there really a need for an admission? Puffy eyelids and dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips and bandages around her forearm soaked in blood. Those details were enough proof.

"Do you hate us that much?" his low voice sent shivers down her spine.

"It's not about that. Just…" she gulped and curled her fingers around the tarot deck she was still holding onto. "I want some peace."

"I say you should get some sleep."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Standing on the deck felt right, even if the witch doesn't remember why she was there. She can't point out the weather clearly, it feels blurry. Seconds ago she was in the kitchen talking with Sanji about some unusual topic she couldn't remember.

Then why was she suddenly on the deck, face to face with a kneeling Zoro who had two swords piercing through his upper body from behind? She didn't only know it was him, she felt like it was him, as if the pieces connecting in her head were just right. However, it horrified her. Everything around him was blurry except for him.

Him, whose essence of life was pouring down his body, creating a puddle under him, sinking into the cracks of the wooden floor. The crimson liquid melted into his white t-shirt. Now that she was looking better at it, she noticed the sharp point of a sword penetrating all the way through his stomach to the front side of his body.

He was looking up at her, despite the way his chin was tilted down. Those sharp brown eyes were boring holes through her. His beautiful irises painted with the warm nuances of chocolate and coffee were scary, like no other time.

Was Luffy next to her? It feels like it was him, even if she can only distinguish a silhouette in the corner of her right eye.

Why was Zoro looking at her like that? She couldn't move, as if her feet were stuck in place. She didn't know if she was breathing or if she was alive anymore. She didn't know why she was on the deck, why those swords took his life away. It barely made any sense that he had enough energy to stare at her.

He didn't falter once. He didn't beg for help, her name didn't come out of his mouth, no groans, no nothing.

She couldn't move. As she stood in the same place, her anxiety was rising up, up, up, until she felt like panicking despite the lack of reaction. She felt like exploding, but she couldn't express those horrific feelings.

She couldn't help him. Her arms were stuck by the sides of her body, as if someone had put a spell on her. She had the will to move her legs, to get closer to him, she wanted to, but she remained glued in that spot. She couldn't feel her body.

She had to do something, but she was trapped inside an unmoving object that was her own body. Why?

Everything snapped.

The smallest hope towards an escape woke her up. Her eyes opened instantly and she raised up in a sitting position, eyes frantically searching for more clues, for answers about the horrifying images she just saw before her eyelids.

Her heart was beating so fast it made her wish she didn't have it at all, a deafening ba-dump repeating in her eardrums over and over again.

Unfortunately, she was face to face with the swordsman she dreamt of. Instantly, as if she was shot, she looked at his upper abdomen. For no more than two seconds, she saw a big black patch on his bandages.

She inhaled deeply and her heart was beating faster, suddenly unable to release that breath of air. Her eyes widened and her hands shook, chest tight.

"Hey," she heard more of a background sound.

She blinked countless times, until her tired brain figured out that it was just her imagination. It was so dark in the room and her nightmare was a shock, the reason why at some point the patch started blurring out, inviting her to blink until it turned to be one small spot. It has been there since he woke up from his slumber.

When the realization sank in, she let go of that breath and let out a pitiful whimper. Deep inside, it felt like relief, her eyes now squeezed shut.

This time, he clearly called her name after his fingers securely gripped at her shaking shoulders, avoiding her wound. Her hands were trembling, her entire being disturbed.

Zoro said her name, not the nickname she got so used to hearing on that ship. Not the usual Witch, a word that sounded so endearing coming from her crewmates; no, it was her name and it was spoken so softly she could've confused him for someone else.

She had a poor attempt at recalling those images in order to figure out the reality, but it backfired. The bloody scene stuck before her closed eyes pushed her to open them up again.

Thankfully, his dark gaze was warm, filled with unspoken worry. For a brief moment she wondered how he woke up, since he slept like the dead sometimes.

"I'm surprised I managed to wake you up," her voice trembled.

He didn't joke back at her. Instead, his thumbs started rubbing slow circles into her shoulders in order to bring her back to earth. Or, better said, back to the ship that was peacefully sailing on the sea during the night.

"I think you should correct your breathing," he pointed out.

Once she changed from autopilot breathing, it felt like her throat was tight.

"Breathe in."

Blindly, she trusted his instructions. That mere breath shook her again, feeling shivers when she allowed the oxygen to sink into her lungs, the same way his voice sank into her being, in the cracks of her soul.

It took a few minutes until that normal bodily process didn't seem like an impossible task. Her muscles were tense until Zoro squeezed her shoulders again.

She could distinguish more of his face than just the warmth she noticed not long ago. His expression seemed pained with worry and not from a wound that could kill him, even if there still were bandages wrapped around his torso. Maybe it was also fear that made him look so different from usual; or was it confusion?

"I'm sorry for destroying your sleep."

It was half a lie. She wasn't sorry about the touch keeping her afloat, about how she managed to breathe again only because of his presence, because he was clearly awake and alive. At the same time, she knew he needed to rest so his wound could heal properly.

"Be serious," he huffed in a lower voice, clearly displeased.

"I am. You should sleep."

"Just like you should, but I doubt you will."

"I'd argue about that."

She was still tired, even if her shock from earlier struck her like thunder. Her eyes could close at any moment, which she feared, because another nightmare didn't sound good even for how stress resistant she became.

Since he heard her soft whimper when she was still sleeping, he had no clue what to do, how to act. One thing was clear: it was better to wake her up, despite the possibility she might get defensive and attack.

Alright, now what the heck do I do? He's had nightmares before, he's seen horrendous things during his sleep countless times, but he didn't have any idea about what to do for her. Was he even supposed to do something? She didn't like being pampered — maybe he should act like nothing happened. However, the fear coloring her face earlier shocked him as well. The witch has always been collected, she had such a firm grip on her reactions it was annoying sometimes.

The swordsman shook his head, but didn't let go of her. Instead, he leaned against the cushions on his side, while his hands fell down to her forearms to get a comfortable position of his limbs and upper body. The wound on his chest sent daggers through him at each movement. Barely a day of consciously dealing with it and he's already got annoyed.

The witch looked down at where their bodies were connected. His long calloused fingers were securely wrapped around her arms, close to her wrists. When did her legs end up in his lap she didn't know. Her bare knee tingled with warmth — why?

"You had a weird reaction after you woke up," his whisper stirred something in her heart.

"What do you mean? I had plenty of reactions."

Are you playing the idiot with me? Zoro thought.

"You were more scared of seeing me than of the nightmare."

"Oh."

Why did the Mosshead have to be so observant? It was one of the reasons why she was attracted to him, evidently, but sometimes he exposed her too easily.

She dropped her chin and looked down at her own hands. Admitting that she feared his role as the main character of a tragedy for the second time felt embarrassing for some unknown reason. She's been in enough humiliating situations and he never ridiculed her.

Zoro was utterly stuck. Was he supposed to move away? His body felt too heavy to get off the sofa and go to his room. It wouldn't be alright leaving her alone with her crippling anxiety either, considering she was prone to overthinking.

He wanted to do something, but what?

He let out a long sigh and rested his head against the cushions, his fingers still curled around her wrists. Her pulse was fast, but as seconds passed by, it slowed down under the weight of his thumbs.

The witch became hyper aware of the situation, but it felt too good to move away. Her tired brain entirely registered his presence and her eyes closed. She breathed in the chill air of the night and, while focusing so intently on Zoro's presence, she fell into a deeper state of mind, half asleep.

He was disturbed from his own journey into the dream realm when he felt a light weight on his shoulder. Once his eyes opened, he saw the cause: she leaned in closer to him, clearly unaware.

He smelled like the sea and the familiar scent of soap clung to the unbuttoned blue t-shirt he wore. With her forehead resting against his neck, the witch could vaguely point out his pulse. The safety of his embrace lulled her into a dreamless sleep while she focused on his slow breathing and the secure grip he had on her.

Zoro filled her senses so fiercely it was impossible not to melt into him, inhaling and exhaling in sync with him.

The swordsman had different sentiments about this and they were all confusing.

What am I doing? he scolded himself.

He moved his head and angled his face so he could look at the right side of her sleeping face. With long eyelashes resting over her soft cheeks, she looked like she didn't have a worry in the world, even if he knew better. Her shoulders would rise and fall rhythmically in such a slow pace, making him wonder what exactly exhausted her so much.

Then, his gaze fell on the purple marks on her neck and his jaw clenched. If he would've been awake when Arlong appeared at Baratie, maybe none of them would be like that. Maybe he would've had enough stubbornness to get answers from Nami and maybe Luffy wouldn't have been so close to drowning. Maybe those marks on her neck wouldn't have been there in the first place.

What the fuck am I doing?

Giving up, he rested his head back against the cushions with a scowl. He didn't understand himself and it was even harder to understand the woman sleeping so peacefully, too close to him.

Zoro let out a low displeased sound and closed his eyes, deciding to rest for a while. He didn't dare move away or wake her up either.

First and foremost he was displeased about the fact that he liked the proximity.

I wonder what that fishman's face looks like. It'll surely be a pleasure to slice him in half.

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 @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop @zoromyluv

176 notes · View notes