#i thought you might enjoy a bird friend update for the first time in a while - the baby continues to grow and peep through the day
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@absolut--kurant!
#peter_seagull_sings_you_the_song_of_his_people.mp4#good morning my friend!! 😄🤩🥰#i thought you might enjoy a bird friend update for the first time in a while - the baby continues to grow and peep through the day#he no longer follows sidney as much and seems to want his own food#it was a good choice honestly knowing how irreponsible sidney is 🤣 they're all good and healthful! they send you their love and so do i#💖💖💖💖💖#wishing you well and hoping you feel better soon my dearest#love you lots!!!#peter seagull#seagull#herring gull#birds#cute
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do you have any favourite txf headcanons ? show or specific to any of your fics or both!!
Oooh what a fun ask!
-I headcanoned that Scully can’t sing, and have been informed that this is actually true! But I also headcanon that when she was a kid she followed Melissa to church chorus, and got kicked out at, like, age 6 because she was so terrible, marking the first person to be kicked out of her church chorus.
-However, I think her parents would have wanted her to learn some sort of instrument, so I think she played the oboe, albeit not very well, and hated it.
-Mulder can dance, but he loses it the second the dance gets complicated (might this pop up in a later Raise Your Voices chapter? Only time will tell!)
-Scully is a hot beverage connoisseur and has just about every kind of tea under the sun stocked in her apartment, but she usually only drinks it when she’s on a day off or it’s a special occasion. Mostly she drinks coffee.
-I have seen debate over whether or not Mulder can cook. I think that he is very good at making approximately three specific dishes and terrible at making anything else.
-Scully can cook most things, but none amazingly. She’s very practical about it.
-Mulder absolutely did theater in high school, you cannot convince me otherwise. He probably only did plays and took an improv class. He has a bunch of old musical tapes hidden in his apartment that he doesn’t think Scully knows about (she does). His family listened to the musicals a lot before Samantha was taken, and he uses them as a reminder of happier times.
-Scully has a membership at the local library and is besties with all of the retired old librarians. They get her life updates every week (wait, should I write a fic about that?)
-Neither Scully nor Mulder had a lot of friends in high school. Scully was always locked into her studies and highly ambitious and didn’t put up with anybody’s BS, and people didn’t like that. Mulder was Mulder and also traumatized. He did get along with the other improv class people, but people mostly thought he was weird.
-Scully got into physics (her major!) because she loved the logical nature of mechanics, and fell in love with it because she secretly adored the mysteries and strangeness of relativity (projection from a physics girlie? Maybe).
-Mulder is not at all a STEM person. The only science classes he really liked were chemistry (so he could make stupid jokes about it), and astronomy (obviously).
-This is semi-canon but Scully is 100% an animal person. Mulder likes cats but that’s pretty much it.
-Both Scully and Mulder have seen every Alfred Hitchcock movie, and have an ongoing debate about what the best one is (Mulder says it’s The Birds, Scully says it’s Strangers on a Train - and Scully is right, just fyi).
-Mulder occasionally makes Scully watch old musical movies, which she pretends she hates but secretly enjoys.
These are mostly just off the top of my head! Feel free to add more in the comments/reblogs!
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Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 4
Chapters: 4/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."
Divider by firefly-graphics
Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️
Author's note: Another long chapter, what is new! Things for the Reader are finally taking a good turn, with a new life at the horizon. I want her relationship with Sanji to develop properly and in the most realistic way possible, but I can pretty much confirm that, in the next update, a kiss will finally take place.
The Baratie was delivering more than a memorable meal on a casual night. In fact, you were set on crossing paths with Sanji again, perhaps even as a part of his team.
Despite your genuine intention to resolve matters at home, a whole week passed, and yet, you hadn't mustered the courage to approach your parents' door.
Mari had welcomed you into her home for as long as you needed, urging you to extend your stay until you felt sufficiently prepared to face your father's wrath. However, the harsh reality was that you would never truly be ready, as you had been grappling with this problem since you were born.
Sleep was elusive. The anxiety of potential repercussions gnawed at your insides, considering your father's unpredictable nature and the fact that he could orchestrate any form of punishment as long as it guaranteed your compliance.
"I'm telling you, just take your time. Rushing it would only backfire," Mari advised you, as you found it difficult to even consume your meal.
"I know, but I can't keep hiding here just to avoid them.”
She exhaled deeply. "I understand, but you should at least devise a reasonable plan.”
You grumbled in response. "A plan? Mari, no plan can shield me from my father's fury. I rejected the Admiral's son, and he considered it crucial to hand me over for his political gain. It's all a business transaction to him.”
"What kind of father treats his own daughter as a mere business asset?”
"Apparently, mine does.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
You shook your head, standing up and beginning to pace to and fro. "The problem is, there's no escape for me. If I confront him, he might just lock me in and force me into marriage. If I flee, he would most certainly hunt me down.”
Mari shrugged. "You could always seek refuge at the Baratie. You seemed quite at ease there, and you've even made a rather special friend.”
You attempted to disregarded her suggestive wink. "It’s the first place my father would take into account, and the last thing I want is for him to create a commotion and hassle the staff there.”
"But they could defend you. The head chef used to be a pirate, and you told us how Sanji gave Nutty a good thrashing. Honestly, that guy is fit as heck.”
“Mari.”
"Hey, I'm serious! Perhaps your judgment is clouded, but mine isn't. We all noticed the chemistry between you two. Sanji is genuinely interested in you, and with his strength and agility? Girl.”
It was difficult for you to ignore the blush creeping onto your cheeks at the thought. "That's not the issue here. I don't want to burden him more than I already have.”
She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, fine. I tried. Do it your way. But remember how long it took you to finally stand up against that jerk. I'm concerned for you, you know?”
You smiled. “I know.”
"All I'm suggesting is that you should stay here for at least another week. We can brainstorm a solution together.”
You were about to nod in agreement, when a forceful knock on her front door startled both of you. You pivoted towards Mari, straining your ear to determine if the person outside had mistakenly approached the wrong house.
"Were you expecting someone?" You asked her. "Did you invite the others?”
You immediatly felt apprehensive as you noticed her tense up in the distinct way she did when something was off. The knocking continued, more insistent than before, and somehow, a part of you already foresaw what was about to occur.
"I didn't," she responded. "Stay here.”
Mari dashed to the entrance, alert and clutching her gun as she moved. You heard the sound of the door being unlocked and creaking open, followed by her cautious, distant voice and another that was painfully familiar to you.
So familiar, in fact, that it sent a chill through your veins as soon as you heard it.
“Where is she?”
Your blood ran ice cold.
"I have no idea who you're referring to, sir," Mari replied indifferently.
"There's no need for you to hide her, she's been spotted here. Step aside, immediately.”
Your father's authoritative tone was unnerving. Even in someone else's home, he had the audacity to behave like a Marine when, in truth, he was a nobody. He leveraged his high-status acquaintances and associates as his safety net, confident that he had someone to turn to in times of need. He considered himself supremely important, treating everyone else as an inferior citizen with no significant rank.
Primarily your friends.
But Mari, being the strong-willed person she was, undoubtedly didn't feel intimidated.
"Nope, that's not going to fly with me. This is my place, so I suggest you just get lost and go hassle someone else.”
You heard the sound of the gun being cocked, and at that moment, you realized you couldn't remain idle. You were deeply indebted to her, aware that she would go to extraordinary lengths to ensure your safety and happiness. But as brave and robust as she was, and as much as you valued her protection and the zeal she invested in everything she did for you, the last thing you wanted was for her to bear the burden of your father's blood on her hands and land herself in trouble.
And despite the nature of your relationship with the man, you harbored no desire to see him meet his end.
You swiftly moved towards the door, your heart hammering in your chest as you saw her standing in the entrance, effectively barricading it.
"Mari, it's okay," you stated coldly. "I'll be fine.”
Your friend scarcely turned her head, not wishing to lower her guard in the presence of your unfazed father.
"No, Y/N. This man has wrecked your life. How 'fine' can you possibly be?”
Your father laughed boisterously. "Wrecked her life? I've only ever done what's best for her. But I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
"How is arranging your daughter's marriage to a man she hates in her best interest?!”
It might have appeared almost comical, considering how his face was reddening and puffing up. You wished for nothing more than to see him back down and entirely give up on you, but you were aware that he wouldn't leave you alone when his personal benefit was at stake.
"Mari, that's enough," you said softly. "You're incredible and I love you, but I'll handle it from here.”
You could see her hesitance, her eyes darting back and forth, barely budging from the doorway. You gently squeezed the hand that was still clutching the gun, so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.
Eventually, she dropped her shoulders and stepped aside to let you pass. "If anything happens to her," she began, casting a threatening glance at your father. "I swear, high status or not, you'll regret ever being born.”
"Watch your language, you impertinent child. I would never harm my own daughter."
"Yeah, because she's a crucial pawn in your schemes, right??”
Before he could delve further into the argument, you nudged him away. "Let's just go, please.”
You whispered a quiet "thank you" to Mari, and all your friend could do was exhale a frustrated sigh as she saw the man take a firm grip of your upper arm. You knew she wasn't the type to sit still, and there was a strong possibility that she might rally the rest of the group to follow you and keep surveillance outside your family's home.
That thought alone provided some solace, because no matter how strenuous things with your father might become over time, you knew you had a reliable support network in those good-hearted people. Your only regret was that it took so many years for you to understand that you couldn't continue letting your parents make decisions for you, simply because you yearned for their acceptance, their love, and to finally receive the decent treatment you deserved.
It was painful, and undeniably hard to accept, but that was something they were incapable of doing.
Your father was visibly enraged, not uttering a word to you during the journey. The way he was practically dragging you around was predictably filled with ire, and all you could do was respond to the onlookers' stares with a reassuring smile.
Deep down, though not really that deep, you found it absolutely mortifying, disheartening, and miserable.
Upon reaching your family's house (because you could no longer consider that place your home, it never truly was), he flung the door open. "Get in," he barked, roughly shoving you inside.
You stumbled and had to steady yourself with the back of the vacant chair at the head of the table. Your mother sat to the left, with Christopher to the right and Admiral Wheeler directly opposite you.
The atmosphere was thick with tension, your mother nervously cutting her piece of bread without even casting a glance your way, while your former fiancé's neck and jaw were rigid with stress. The admiral, on the other hand, seemed more puzzled and intrigued than anything else.
Somehow, perhaps due to your escalating nervousness, the whole situation elicited a chuckle from you as you took your seat. Your father occupied the empty chair next to his wife, and Chris immediately turned to you with a swollen, patched-up nose.
Unable to contain your enjoyment, you asked mockingly, "How's your face?"
His response was utterly foreseeable.
“Go to hell, bitch.”
“Christopher Wheeler.”
The admiral's voice was surprisingly booming, startling everyone present.
"What?! She started it!”
His father grunted, lightly smacking his hand against the table and causing his glass to vibrate on it. "How old are you, 12?”
It was unusual and somewhat unexpected, as the Admiral usually maintained a neutral stance, seldom intervening unless it was to make a joke. Somehow, you got the impression that he was taking your side for the first time, but you didn't want to deceive yourself with something that could simply be a product of your imagination.
Chris lowered his gaze, muttering a curse under his breath. Your mother's hands trembled with agitation, while your father cleared his throat to commence his speech.
"Admiral, I believe my daughter owes you an apology," he declared. "I'm certain this is all just a misunderstanding and she will come to her senses.”
The man leveled his gaze at you, expectation clearly etched in his eyes, yet remarkably devoid of any irritation. “Is that so?”
You sighed, feeling positively incensed and not in the mood to hold back. "No. I am perfectly sane.”
With a growl, your father took a deep breath, making an effort to recollect his composure. Sensing his tension, your mother tenderly grazed her fingers against his wrist, doing the best she could to defuse the situation.
"She's not serious. Y/N merely panicked when your son proposed to her, nothing more.”
With a look of disgust, you shifted your attention to your father. "May I remind you that you're not in my head.”
He nonchalantly brushed you aside with a dismissive wave of his hand, anxiously awaiting the Admiral's response.
Nevertheless, the Marine kept his focus directed at you, narrowing his eyes as though wanting to perceive something that you couldn't quite put into words.
"Perhaps she should speak for herself," he suggested.
Your father was left dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open as he glanced back and forth between you and the Admiral.
A slight smile appeared on your face. "At least someone values my opinion.”
The admiral gave a nod of his head, which threw Christopher into a state of discomfort.
You had no intention of holding yourself back. "He slapped me. Are we truly going to overlook that?”
Christopher coughed, squirming in his chair like a mouse caught in a trap.
"Hold on, what? Is that the truth, son?”
“W-well…. uhm….”
Admiral Wheeler released a sigh of defeat, shrouding his face with his large hand while incessantly shaking his head.
“I was angry!”
Frankly, you expected your former fiancé to deny it, to pretend innocence and claim that you were spinning stories for self-defense, all while maintaining the facade of a noble and respectful man. However, in the end, he appeared so inconsequential and weak that it evoked pity in you. He seemed to crave his father's approval, reflecting the same longing you nurtured towards yours for a very long time.
The Admiral pronounced your father's name with such severity that it made both him and your mother wince. "I'd like to have a word with your daughter. In private.”
Your father was visibly panicking, for things were veering in a direction he hadn't predicted. "Uhm, well you see.... I don't think that's a good ide-”
“I insist.”
The Marine's face was marked by a large grin, yet it was so strained and intimidating that it managed to scare even you.
Ultimately, your parents had no choice but to comply, sinking back into their seats like two frightened children. You had never seen them appear so distraught.
"Y/N, would you mind accompanying me to the kitchen?”
The noticeably softer way in which the Admiral addressed you was disarming, yet you appreciated it all the same.
As he rose from his chair and ambled away, the silence that enveloped the main room was deafening. You promptly followed him and closed the kitchen door behind you, feeling a bit uneasy as you had never really established much familiarity with the Admiral.
Mr. Wheeler settled in comfortably, exhaling a relaxed breath and signaling for you to join him. Heeding his gesture, you took a stool next to him, the flickering fire in front of you, your gaze resting on the chicken being prepared.
At the current pace, you were sure it would end up burnt, but you found yourself lacking the energy to make a comment on it.
"Sir, I apologize for dragging you into this," you finally voiced. "It wasn't my intention to disrespect you or your son.”
He arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Do you think I wanted to speak with you because of that?”
“That’s not it?”
"No, my dear. I am actually interested in understanding how you truly feel. It's evident that you don't wish to marry my son. Thus, I'm curious as to why you adhered to your father's directive up until this point?”
Your eyes dropped to your hands, your chest constricting with emotion. "Because I wanted to make him happy."
He hummed thoughtfully. "Even if it implies condemning yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness?”
"It's pathetic, isn't it?”
"No, Y/N. It's not.”
For some reason, his unexpected kindness brought tears to your eyes, and you found yourself suppressing a sob of despair that rattled you to your core.
"In reality, I am the one who owes you an apology.”
You sniffled, wiping your forming tears away. "Why is that?”
"For all this time, I merely stood by in silence, permitting your old man to do as he pleased. I considered him a valuable asset, given his extensive network and the wealth of information he has access to.”
You listened in silence, engulfed in the grief you had suppressed for far too long.
"I've been observing you. I assumed you would object, as your expression suggested you were not in agreement with his instructions, but then you never did.”
Your attention was fixated on the flames consuming the chicken, which was now assuming a questionable dark hue.
"Eventually, I convinced myself that I was wrong, that you willingly chose this path and had your unique way of expressing it. I never truly took your feelings into account, I remained silent, and didn’t step up to protect you.”
"You weren't obligated to look out for me, Admiral," you asserted.
"No, but you were on track to become a part of my family. Under the assumption that you would marry my son, I should have shown more consideration.”
"What changed, then?"
"You did. The night we dined at the Baratie, I noticed something in you that wasn't present before. You looked so heartbroken… so out of place. And for the first time, you snapped.”
You recollected the way your father treated you that night, so disrespectful, demanding a level of submission you were no longer willing to exhibit.
"It was rather amusing, truth be told. I witnessed you finally standing up for yourself, and your father was unable to control that.”
Your lips trembled as you managed to summon another smile for him.
"You see, when my wife passed away, I pledged to my son that I would be a good parent, to prevent him from feeling any sense of deprivation growing up," he elaborated. "But I made a grave mistake; I ended up spoiling him, granting his every wish. I even facilitated his career progression because I knew he aspired to follow in my footsteps.”
While Admiral Wheeler typically radiated confidence, strength, and composure, he now seemed like an entirely different person. The man sitting beside you was vulnerable, sensitive, and laden with flaws that made him a bit more human. Just like you.
"When I recognized that he had become self-centered and excessively prideful to the point of discomfort, it was too late. I could no longer influence his character.”
"Admiral, I may not like your son, but Christopher has some redeeming qualities too.”
"I appreciate your intention to assuage my guilt, but there's no need to defend him. Never did I teach him it was acceptable to lay a hand on a woman.”
"I wasn’t exactly nice to him. I’m not saying that I deserved it, it’s just…”
He tenderly squeezed your shoulder in a paternal way. "No, there's no excuse for what he did. And I'm extremely sorry you had to endure all of this."
There was so much you wanted to convey, but despite the immense effort to organize your thoughts, the only thing that managed to escape your lips was a simple "Okay.”
"Just tell me something, Y/N, and please answer honestly. Do you believe I can trust your father?”
His question took you by surprise, but it was clear to you that by that point, the Admiral had grown deeply doubtful of their partnership.
For a brief moment, you deliberated whether it was appropriate to reveal the truth to him. Perhaps, if this had happened just a few weeks earlier, you might have felt unable to do so.
But as the Admiral had pointed out, you were no longer the same.
"From a professional standpoint, he excels at what he does, and he holds a significant amount of knowledge that could be advantageous to you.”
“But?”
You pursed your lips together, constructing the most persuasive sentence possible to convince him.
"But I don't believe he's trustworthy. You've seen what he tried to do with me; he shows no qualms when it comes to his own interests.”
He affirmed with a tilt of his head. "Seems like I squandered my time on such a greed-driven mastermind.”
“I’m sorry.”
"Don't be. If anything, I came to this realization before it was too late.”
He pushed his chair back and stood up, switching off the fire and waving his hand to dissipate the building smoke. The chicken was undeniably overcooked and much too charred to be edible. What a waste.
“Well, this room now reeks.”
In a fit of genuine amusement, the admiral returned to your side, giving you a supportive pat on the back as he did so.
"You know," he admitted, " You've always been superior to anyone else in my circle. You exude honesty and innocence; everything you do is heartfelt, even in moments when you're not fully aware of it.”
Ironically, the praises you had wished for from your own family were now being bestowed upon you by the man they chose to be your father-in-law.
“Part of me harbored the belief that you could change my son, turn him into a better man, and succeed where I have failed,” he admitted. "But the reality is, he would only end up shattering you.”
As the smoke dissipated through the open window, it unveiled the chicken that looked defeated, drained, and consumed. A mirror image of how you had felt for too many years.
"I want to make amends, Y/N. I understand that I'm not your family, but I believe your parents aren't the best figures to look up to. Should you ever require anything, absolutely anything, don't hesitate to approach me.”
Unconsciously, a sigh of relief escaped from you. The knowledge that you had an ally, someone as influential and impartial as he was, brought a measure of consolation, however slight.
"Thank you, Admiral. Your words carry great significance for me."
Reflecting on the intimidation you experienced the first time you laid eyes on Admiral Wheeeler, you found it mildly amusing now. Your worry was unfounded, as a powerful wave of confidence swept over you, bolstered by the man’s reassuring presence.
At that point, the prospects could only get better. After all, once you've hit rock bottom, there's no direction left but upwards.
You had emerged victorious.
After a lifetime of living in fear, enduring criticism and subjugation, you had finally triumphed in your battle against your family.
Admiral Wheeler had officially cut all professional ties with your father, which resulted in the latter exploding in rage, blaming you for being a complete catastrophe and ruining his career. However, this time, regardless of the aggression he unleashed, you didn’t even flinch. You allowed him to vent while you calmly sipped your tea, also taking satisfaction in how his former partner chastised him, forcefully ordering him to leave you alone and treat you with respect.
But it didn’t stop there. The Admiral chose to demote his son effective immediately, compelling him to regain his position without any form of favoritism. Your ex-fiancé was seething, on the brink of desperation so intense that you believed he might succumb to tears any moment. He glanced at you as if you were the most repulsive creature he had ever encountered.
And you were thoroughly gratified.
With most of your belongings already stowed away in your secret stash, there wasn't much you needed to retrieve from your old room. You happily left all those incredibly uncomfortable clothes untouched, as you were mainly focused on collecting a few leftover books.
Now that the Admiral and his son had left, the house fell into silence, and you found your parents in a state of utter defeat, staring blankly at the floor as you stepped into the living room.
You observed them to gauge whether they had anything additional to contribute to their ceaseless list of insults, but it appeared they no longer had the energy to even try.
Quietly, you moved towards the door, holding your bag and wrapping your hand around the handle. But before you could open it and step outside for the very last time, you felt the need to voice your feelings, despite knowing they would likely take no effect.
“You know, things could have been different. If you had treated me like a daughter rather than a tool from the moment I was born, I could have truly added value to this family.”
Your father grunted, shaking his head to dismiss your argument.
"I understand you wanted a son, dad. I apologize for not being the one you had hoped for.”
He looked away, and your mother wrapped her arms around herself, releasing a deep sigh.
“You've enslaved me and molded me into a submissive echo of a person. I've done nothing but strive to please you, to provide what you desired. But in the end, it was never enough.”
He was about to retaliate, but this time, your mother took his hand and signaled him to restrain himself.
And so, you persisted undeterred.
"I wish I could say that I hate you, but despite how much you've hurt me, I can't deny that I still love you after everything.”
Your words appeared to deliver a potent message, akin to an arrow hitting dead center. However, you didn't let their sudden discomposure detain you any longer.
Most likely, they were simply wounded in their pride more than anything else.
"But, as much as I'd like to erase the past, the fact remains that I won't be able to ever forgive you.”
Your mother bit her lower lip, and your father appeared to hold a similar degree of resentment. Certainly, you didn't expect him to envelop you in his arms and plead for a second chance, but the prioritization of his status over his own flesh and blood inflicted yet another painful wound to your heart.
"I wish you a good life.”
Your grip on the bag's strap tightened, and without a single backward glance, you thrust the door open to be welcomed by the evening air, with the final rays of the setting sun fading on the horizon.
And by your friends, who were patiently leaning against the wall of your family’s house, prepared to step in at any given moment if necessity arose.
Your parents made no effort to hinder you. They neither called out your name nor insisted that you remain.
Everything had come to an end, and you were completely freed from the chains that had kept you trapped in a lifelong nightmare from which you had finally awakened.
"What are you going to do now?" Rory asked as she sat on the couch with you. "I'm glad you're finally free from that despot, but technically, you're now homeless.”
"No, she is not. I have plenty of room here, she can stay with me,” said Mari.
You chuckled, sitting up straight. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think I'll be sticking around in this town.”
They all froze on the spot, staring at you as if they had just seen a ghost.
"Wait, what are you talking about?" Marlo asked.
"Well, at least for the immediate future. I'm not entirely sure where I'll end up eventually, but... there's something I really want to do now.”
Your friends shared a knowing look with each other, immediately emitting a satisfied, mischievous 'Ooohh.’
"Wait, guys, it's not what you think.”
"Really?" Rubio sat on the opposite side of the couch, nudging you with his large elbow. "So you're not going to tell us you're heading back to the Baratie for that chef-guy?”
You rolled your eyes. "It's not exactly like that. Well, not entirely.”
"Aha!”
"I'm serious! He's not the primary reason, I still owe them for the chaos that Christopher created.”
Mari rested her hand on her chin, pondering aloud. "You know, that's not a bad excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse!”
Marlo snickered. "Yeah, and I'm a fish-man. Come on, we know you all too well.”
At times, they could be exasperating, but without a doubt, they had a better understanding of you than you did of yourself.
"Okay, fine. I admit I do want to see him again... but there's something about the Baratie that I can't quite put into words.”
Rory's expression brightened. "Wait, you want to work there?”
"Maybe? I am contemplating it. I need to compensate them for the wasted food and damaged tableware.”
Marlo nodded. "That makes sense, but it might only be for a short time. How much do you think that stuff was worth?”
Mari started to mentally tally up. "Well, their cuisine is of high quality and not exactly the cheapest. The tableware may not be particularly expensive, but they ended up with at least two plates and two glasses to replace.”
“Let's not forget about the tablecloth to wash,” you added.
Rubio gave a nonchalant shrug. "So maybe a week or less?”
“Most likely, yes.”
You exhaled a sigh. "Guys, this is just a hypothesis. I'm not even certain they would allow me to work there at all.”
Mari shot you a wild, excited grin. “But you have an inside connection.”
"Indeed! Sanji would definitely put in a good word for you," Rory chimed in.
The enthusiastic way they encouraged you was simultaneously embarrassing and thrilling. Their backing prompted a hearty laughter from you as they all gathered around, embodying the spirit of the close-knit family they represented.
Thus, as Mari was delineating the specifics for your formal employment request, she assured you a safe passage on their ship.
The day you left your hometown to return to the Baratie, your anxiety escalated to levels you thought were only attainable when dealing with Christopher or your father. Now, as you attired yourself and mentally braced for an endeavor that could potentially lead to a total flop, managing your soaring nerves emerged as your most formidable challenge yet.
This time around, only Mari accompanied you on your journey. The others had their own obligations to attend to, and they felt it would be awkward to all turn up simply for you to hand in a job application.
In a way, they acted as if you wouldn't be returning, hugging you tightly and wishing you a marvelous time at the floating restaurant. Their optimism undeniably compensated for your own scarcity of it, and they succeeded in instilling a bit of positivity in you.
The weather was pleasant, warm with a touch of moisture in the air, but offset by the cool, revitalizing sea breeze. The ship felt notably empty with just you and Mari on board, but you didn't want to burden the others with the expectation of always being in your company.
The reality was, you were uncertain about what awaited you. Not only were you unsure about possible developments with Sanji, but there also existed a risk that Zeff might scoff at you for even nurturing ambitions of securing a role at the Baratie. What could you feasibly contribute to their team other than some dishwashing and kitchen tidying? Your home cooking skills weren't outstanding enough to be of use, and you couldn't think of any other particular talents you possessed. You had dedicated so many years striving to liberate yourself from your constrained existence that you barely had time to develop new ones.
Luckily, Mari was there to bolster your spirits and remind you that cleaning itself was indeed a valuable ability. You had a notable knack for being quick and extremely meticulous in that area, and such a trait would be a significant asset for any restaurant, irrespective of its reputation.
Being used to your parents' critique, it was difficult for you to harbor the same self-belief as your friends did, but you determined that it would be worth attempting regardless of the result.
Now, as you looked at the ocean waves softly swaying the ship, immersed in your thoughts, Mari clasped your hand in hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"Hey, I know that embarking on a new life can be daunting, but I'm incredibly proud of you for what you've accomplished.”
You replied with a smile, returning the supportive gesture. "Whenever I think about it, I feel as though I might wake up and discover that none of it was real.”
Mari shook her head. "Believe me, Y/N, it's absolutely real. And all jokes aside, I must say that I genuinely root for you and Sanji.”
“I barely know him. And I'm not sure if I can truly take his compliments at face value.”
"Why, do you believe he's merely toying with you? Because I think he’s serious.”
You took a moment to consider your response, then declared, "No, it's not that. I can see in his eyes that he's not lying. But in the end, I'm just one amongst the multitude of customers he's come across, and you've seen how prone he is to flirting.”
Mari emitted a grunt. "Yes, but that's different. Do you want to know what I genuinely saw?”
“What did you see?”
"Sanji is handsome, and an incredibly talented cook too. But despite his good looks and talents, I think he's actually a little insecure. I could be wrong, but who knows what that guy has been through.”
Upon contemplation, you realized you didn't really know much about Sanji's past, as he hadn't divulged anything beyond his life at the Baratie, his spats with Zeff, and his dream of discovering the All Blue. You hadn't asked, but it was plausible that Mari had a point.
"What I'm saying is that the way he looked at you was authentic, and I'm not speaking from my biased perspective. You know that I can be quite straightforward when necessary. Sanji likes you, I'm sure of it... and if you ended up working there alongside him, all doubts would be dispelled.”
Mari was known for being a sharp observer, and she rarely misread someone she had the chance to assess at first sight.
"Perhaps you're right," you conceded. "But wouldn't that make things even more complex for us, being coworkers?”
"Oof. The worst-case scenario would be the two of you not getting enough privacy, but the real fun always kicks in during the night anyway.”
With laughter bubbling up, you affectionately bumped your forehead against hers. "You're such a mischief-maker.”
“And proud of it!”
While you dearly valued all your friends equally, the connection you had with Mari was distinctively special, leaning more towards a sisterly bond. From a young age, she had always been exceptionally resilient and served as an inspiration to you, someone who remained impervious to those who attempted to pull her down. She was consistently there for you when you needed her, never once refusing to stand by your side. Despite her critique of your lack of bravery against your family, she never passed harsh judgment, offering unwavering support through your tribulations.
Even at this point, she expressed concern to the extent of guaranteeing your job security, fully cognizant of the potential reality of embarking on the return journey solo.
The commute to the restaurant was seamless and serene. You seized this opportunity to delve further into your books, inscribe reflections in your journal, and engage in thoughtful discourse about your future aspirations. Working at the Baratie, irrespective of how long it may last, was a promising stride towards your total independence.
Your parents never permitted you to secure a job on your own, always orchestrating strategic meetings to ingratiate you with society's elites and political figures. The roles you were assigned were fairly mundane, often restricted to tasks such as serving drinks or filing paperwork. The earnings you made were under your family's surveillance, and squirreling away bits of Berries for personal use proved to be a laborious endeavor.
For the first time, you had the opportunity to achieve something solely for yourself, free from their meddling or overbearing presence.
However, the instant Mari pointed out the emerging silhouette of the Baratie in the distance, an immediate wave of weakness swept over your knees and a queasy sensation began to churn in your stomach.
"Y/N, take it easy! It's not a big deal, all you need to do is smile and maintain a polite attitude. That's something you've been trained to do all your life.”
"No, this feels different. I've never been so invested in a job application before.”
Mari gently rubbed your back as you hunched over the table, shrouding your face between your arms. "What if I don't measure up?”
"Enough of that talk! You'll do great, believe me. Anyone who passes on you would be making a foolish mistake."
"Do you really think so?”
"Of course I do. Now, perk up. I know you're also anxious about Sanji, but he should actually serve as a positive motivator.”
You groaned. "Please, let's not go there.”
"Alright, listen carefully," she instructed in a stern voice, compelling you to raise your head and meet her eyes. "The fact that you hesitate whenever someone brings up his name signifies that you've encountered a man who could finally shake your world. As we both know, that's a rarity.”
You acknowledged with a nod.
"Like I said, I'm confident the feelings are mutual, so that's not something you need to fret over. Just go with the flow, take things as they come.”
You sank back into your chair, a look of resignation on your face. "I'm at a loss, Mari. Everything feels so surreal to me at this moment.”
It was unfathomable how a single night at the Baratie had the power to completely upend your life; One minute, you were betrothed to a Marine you had no interest in, succumbing to your father's will. Then, as if struck by a lightning bolt, you broke free from your cocoon, asserting your rights and discarding your shackles in an astonishingly short span of time.
And now, you were en route back to the Baratie in pursuit of a job, all while dealing with the unsettling emotions stirred up by a man you only met twice.
Your infatuation with Sanji was undeniable. Despite your tries to brush it off, from the very first moment your eyes locked with his, you were completely smitten.
It may have been childish, likely ridiculous and possibly doomed to burst like a bubble in the wind for all you knew. Yet, despite your trepidations and uncertainties, a persistent voice inside your head urged you to heed the call of your heart.
Mari's smile widened, and she tenderly stroked your hair in a soothing gesture. "Sweetie, everything will work out. Relax, take a deep breath, and give it your all.”
And naturally, your only recourse was to gather all the strength you possessed and press on.
Upon reaching the restaurant's entrance, your feet inexplicably froze. You observed various patrons walk up to the deck and step inside, all primed to relish the most delectable fare the East Blue had to offer. Although it was still quite early and not exactly dinnertime, the enticing aroma wafting from the restaurant—a tantalizing blend of grilled meat, fish, and roasted potatoes, capped off with the unmistakable sweet scent of freshly baked cake—indicated that the Baratie staff was always well-prepared.
You had anticipated the place to be less crowded, but securing a conversation with Zeff might prove to be more challenging than you had originally thought.
"Y/N, let's go. What are you doing standing here stiff as cod?”
"Mari, I don't think I can go through with this," you proclamed, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, don't be silly. Of course, you can.”
She took your upper arm in her firm grasp, and you had no choice but to let her coax you out of your paralysis. Upon crossing the threshold, Mari instantly engaged in a dialogue with the fish-man. She pointed out a table that, to your repeated surprise, she appeared to have reserved for the forthcoming hours.
"One of these days, you'll have to let me in on your secret," you said to her.
"Pfff, I have no idea what you're talking about!”
You trailed after her animated figure through the dining room, which, although noticeably less crowded compared to the main area, was still bustling with activity.
The table was cozy and beautifully set for two, already decked with some enticing bread. Unfortunately, your current stomach condition was far from ideal, making the thought of savoring any food quite uninviting. Nevertheless, your resolve to meet Sanji again, potentially as a part of their crew, was not shaken.
No sooner had you reached your seat than a familiar voice echoed from across the room. Its charm was instantly enthralling, causing you to whip your head around so quickly that you could almost feel your nerves stretching within.
There stood Sanji, attired in his crisp white chef's uniform, deep in conversation with a waiter near the kitchen entrance. The instant your eyes fell on his brilliant smile, the blond hair gently falling over his left eye, the defined contour of his jaw, and the rhythmic bobbing of his Adam's apple, it felt as if your chest was about to explode. You redirected your attention back to Mari, taking in a deep breath as you felt your cheeks glow with warmth.
"Mari, he's here.”
"Yeah, I can see that.”
“What should I do?”
"What are you waiting for? Go say hi!”
She was thoroughly enjoying herself, her giggles echoing at your evident agitation in Sanji's presence.
"He's on duty, I can't just go over there and distract him from his responsibilities.”
"Actually, nevermind. I think he's just spotted us.”
Your heart leaped so violently that you needed to swallow it back down. "What?! You're kidding, right?”
“I’m not joking. Don’t turn around, he’s heading our way.”
Shit shit shit shit.
What were you even supposed to say? Would he be glad to see you? How could you maintain a cool exterior when you were struggling to keep your rambling in check? What if-
“You’re back!”
Mari pursed her lips in an effort to contain a burgeoning laugh, a reaction that was completely justifiable given the circumstances.
You spun around, and the moment you locked eyes with him, your breath was completely taken away. Because, honestly, how could a man possibly be this attractive?
Regardless, you managed to summon a bright smile in response. "Sanji, hi!"
“Hey!”
The gentleness that radiated from his greeting was simply overwhelming. He didn't afford you a moment to digest the situation, as he promptly swept you into a hug that was gentle, slightly cautious, yet concurrently bold. You could catch his aroma interlaced with the scent of cigarette and the kitchen's fragrances. It was soothing, it was sweet, and it was unforeseen.
Sanji appeared genuinely thrilled to see you there, and you courageously lifted your hands to hesitantly reciprocate his embrace.
Despite the barrier of clothing, you could feel the hardness of his muscles against your palms.
"I was concerned about you. Are you okay?”
The realization that he had been thinking of you was flattering and heartwarming.
"Yes, I'm doing well.”
You appeared to lose track of your surroundings, and even Sanji seemed reluctant to draw away from you. The sound of Mari's throat-clearing brought you back to reality, urging you to create a distance from him as you regained your poise.
"Good to see you again," she addressed him.
Sanji responded with a graceful smile, reaching out for the hand she had extended for a formal shake. In a classic display of his gentlemanly manners, albeit a bit extravagant yet still charming to see, he opted to lightly kiss her knuckles instead. "The pleasure is mine, madam.”
"Oh my, where have you been hiding all this time?"
Seeing as she was looking straight at you with an almost unnoticeable wink, it was clear that she was asking that question on your behalf.
Sanji looekd bashful, eyeing you with an enchanting glint in his aquamarine eyes. It made you go weak in the knees, akin to a punch in the gut that left you breathless and light-headed.
Mari, quickly picking up on your temporary disorientation, immediately intervened to break the ice. She leaned casually against Sanji, resting her arm comfortably on his shoulder. "Could we possibly have a word with your boss? There's a matter of utmost importance that requires discussion.”
Right, you thought to yourself. Of course. Pull yourself together, Y/N!
Sanji's brows furrowed in confusion. "You want to speak with Zeff?”
Mari subtly nodded to nudge you, shifting her eyes to the side as a signal towards him.
"Oh, uhm... yes. Is he around?”
"When isn't the old man breathing down my neck?" He responded, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll get him.”
"I appreciate it, thank you.”
His smile broadened considerably, his expression reverting back to his playful, flirtatious manner. "Anything for you, beautiful.”
Why did his compliments always make you blush as red as a ripe tomato? Your cheeks felt like they were set ablaze as you watched him walk away, and your heart pounded so violently that you were half-convinced it might cause the entire establishment to tumble violently into the sea.
Gosh. Even his walk was alluring, not to mention the way he swept his left bangs away from his face.
"Mari, I swear, you're going to be the end of me.”
"In what way?”
"Just look at me. I’m a mess.”
She scoffed at your words. "Enough of that. Cheer up, I assure you there is no chance he will reject you. And by 'he', I'm referring to the head chef.”
"How can you be so sure?”
"You'll see. Just trust me on this, okay?”
Somehow, her smile suggested that she had been keeping a substantial piece of information hidden all along. "Mari, what is it that you're not telling me?”
"Ease up.”
You looked at her in disbelief, observing her casual movements as she settled into a seat and picked up a piece of bread from the basket at the center. Sighing in resignation, you mirrored her actions, settling into the chair on the opposite side of the table, but not daring to touch even a single crumb.
Each passing second felt like an eternity, the uncertainty of what the day held looming ominously over you. Your father's harsh words persistently invaded your thoughts, echoing in your ears as if he were shouting them from right behind you. "You're a failure. You won't achieve anything on your own. You are nothing without me.”
There was more to you than the image he consistently tried to project. Yet, every time you attempted to place some faith in your abilities, he always managed to pull you back down. His influence was felt even in his absence.
Minutes ticked by, too many to keep track of. Just as you were on the verge of standing up and storming out of the main door, Zeff's gruff voice resounded into the dining room.
"Well, I'll be damned!”
For a moment, you feared he was critiquing your presence before you could even speak to him, but it didn't take long for you to realize that his words weren't meant for you at all.
"Zeff!”
Your eyes expanded in surprise as you watched Mari greeting the chef with the familiarity of an old friend. Her hands comfortably encased his larger one in a warm clasp. "Thank you for making time for us. I know how busy you can be.”
Wait, what?
"Do you remember my friend, Y/N?”
To say that you were utterly shocked would be an understatement. What sort of joke had you wandered into?
"Aye. I hope you're faring well now.”
Despite your attempts to regain your voice, you could only nod in response.
"She has something to discuss with you," Mari interjected. "But it would be best to have the conversation privately, just between the two of you.”
Zeff hummed in understanding. "I suppose I can take a minute off.”
Your blood turned icy as the pieces fell into place. The effortless way Mari had secured a table when others had to wait weeks in line, her overbearing confidence about your hiring request - it all suddenly made sense given how well-acquainted she was with the person in charge.
A part of you felt betrayed, as if you had been deceived right from the start.
Mari called out your name, noticing your complexion turning pale. This time, your reaction had nothing to do with your previous anxiety, which had now completely dissipated and been replaced by a newfound determination to uncover more.
"I apologize, but... you owe me some explanations.”
Zeff placed his hands on either side of his waist, chuckling with amusement. "You didn't mention it to her, ey?”
Mari grinned like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oopsie.”
"Don't give me an 'oopsie' now, this isn't something to be taken lightly.”
"Listen, we will talk about it later, I promise. For now, just go with Zeff and do what you need to do.”
Now, in light of your discovery, your skepticism had greatly deepened. Would he even consider hiring you based on your own merits, or were things already prearranged, again?
Not wanting your journey to have been entirely futile, you eventually resolved to engage in conversation with the head chef.
"Fine. But don't think you're off the hook so easily.”
Mari remained as calm and confident as ever, not perceiving your warning as particularly grave.
Shifting her focus back to the mustachioed man, she offered an innocent smile. "She's more feisty than she looks.”
Zeff was a far cry from the serious former pirate you remembered. Whether this change was a result of Mari's visit or merely a buoyed spirit, you couldn't really tell.
"I'll keep that in mind," He said with a hearty chuckle. “Come on, this way.”
As he pivoted to guide you to a more secluded area, Mari offered a gentle shove on your back and flashed two thumbs up. Despite her encouragement, uncertainty lingered in you as you quietly followed the the man with the pegged leg towards the known environment of his office.
The chef settled comfortably into the chair behind his desk, courteously offering the one in front of him for you. As you sat down, you played with your fingers, unsure about how to initiate the dialogue.
Eventually, you posed the most straightforward question that came to mind.
"May I inquire about how you know my friend, sir?”
Zeff grasped his long white hat, setting it delicately on the table and revealing his tousled blond short hair. "Ah, that's quite a story that she might want to share with you herself.”
You arched an eyebrow with no intention of backing down, anticipating further explanation.
He sighed deeply, then confessed, "I knew her father, a long time ago.”
From your recollections, the man had met a tragic end in a maritime accident when Mari was but a child, the specifics of which she had never wished to divulge. By the time you first encountered her, he was already gone. She consistently spoke of him as a hero she aimed to emulate - a figure of strong morality and impressive fighting prowess.
It wasn’t hard for you to grasp the truth behind what she hadn't disclosed.
Delving deeper into it, you asked, "He was a pirate, wasn’t he?"
“….Aye.”
Considering her personality and her typical approach to handling things, it indeed provided a believable explanation.
And then, you could see a wave of melancholy wash over Zeff's features.
"She's a good kid," he continued. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree”
Regrettably, you couldn't entirely concur with that sentiment. "Sometimes it does, but that's a different story.”
Zeff watched you with intense scrutiny, observing as you lowered and shook your head in an attempt to dispel unwanted memories.
"Did you want to ask me something?”
Tightening your grip on your knees, you confirmed. “I do, sir.”
“Go on, then.”
It seemed that Mari hadn't actually revealed your intentions to the chef. Either that, or he was exceptionally good at concealing it.
"Firstly, I wanted to sincerely apologize again for the actions of my ex-fiancé during our last visit.”
"Nah, you shouldn't be the one apologizing," he emphasized.
"I accompanied him here, so it falls on me. I wanted to ask if there's any way I could make amends for the ruined food and damages.”
Zeff pondered your question, stroking the top of his big mustache. “What do you have in mind?”
You swallowed your nervousness, doing your best to articulate a suitable proposal without stumbling over your words.
"Is there any possibility that I could.... work here?”
Just as anticipated, a look of surprise slightly enlarged his eyes. "You want to work in my restaurant?”
"For as long as you deem appropriate. I don't have much to offer, but I could... maybe undertake cleaning duties? Wash the dishes? Things like that. I don’t require any compensation.”
When he persisted in his silence, you were consumed with apprehension that he might belittle you. What could a girl like you, primarily groomed to appear attractive and agreeable to affluent men, possibly contribute to a restaurant like his?
"I understand that I'm not exactly an ideal candidate. My cooking skills are quite basic, and I don't have any standout abilities that would make me a valuable addition to your team.”
He paid careful attention, noting how your eyes sparkled with unwavering conviction.
"But I'm a quick learner, and I'm really skilled at polishing things.”
"Why here? Why the Baratie?”
His interest was sincere, and it was highly probable that Zeff was trying to understand you and your motivations.
“If you want to work for me because of what that worthless excuse of a man did, don't bother.”
How could you possibly explain to him the depth of your interest, proving that it extended way beyond merely settling a debt?
As per Mari's advice, the most advantageous way to secure the job was to communicate your thoughts openly and honestly. Your brightest prospect of success stemmed from utilizing your innate strengths and maintaining your true self.
You had spent your entire life in pretense, masquerading as someone you never wanted to become.
"Sir, may I speak frankly?”
“Please do.”
And surely, Zeff was not a man to be readily influenced by insincere proclamations.
"I genuinely like it here. I spent an entire evening in your kitchen, and I was impressed by the passion and teamwork of your employees," you expressed. "From a young age, I was instructed to be assertive in all aspects of my life, all in the pursuit of finding a suitable husband who could provide political advantages for my parents.”
A large, unpleasant lump was developing in your throat, but you chose to disregard it.
“I had no voice in any decision, not once was I allowed to choose my own path. I was constantly reminded that I held no value on my own, and unfortunately, I started to believe it.”
The man’s gaze softened and his shoulders eased.
"For once, I want to choose for myself, to prove that I am more than what they led me to convince myself of.”
"Prove to whom, to them?”
“To myself.”
Suddenly, you felt a surge of tenacity that you never thought you could summon, realizing you had nothing left to lose.
"I'm not a chef, nor am I an experienced waitress. All I'm asking for is a chance, without anyone else dictate who I am.”
A silence descended between you two. Zeff's expression transformed to one of seriousness and focus, his eyes narrowing. The fact that he didn't dismiss you outright and was prepared to pause his work to listen was a hopeful sign. However, the impact of your words was still uncertain.
Eventually, he reacted with a pleased "hah!", evidently valuing your honest admission.
“Just so we’re clear,” he started, “Working here won’t be easy.”
"I'm not expecting it to be, sir.”
"We rise early, and the kitchen needs to be operational at all times.”
“Naturally.”
You were not one to oversleep or shirk your responsibilities anyway.
"It can turn into a real mess, with many dishes and pans to scrub.”
"I'm accustomed to putting a lot of elbow grease.”
The more you answered, the more satisfied he seemed. He sported a friendly and gentle smile, complemented by his long, twisted mustache.
"If you work, you get paid. You don’t owe me anything. Understood?”
“Yes sir.”
His intentions were unequivocally transparent, leaving no margin for error. However, despite the apparent success of your request, your mind was struggling to process it.
“And just another thing,” he uttered. “Whatever is happening between you and the Little Eggplant, it needs to stay out of my kitchen.”
Though he didn't seem noticeably irritated, the mere mention of Sanji was enough to instantly set you on edge.
"Oh... no, I don't.... we... I mean, there’s nothing going on.”
With a subtle smirk, Zeff let out a muffled chuckle before picking up his hat and resettling it on his head. "You start tomorrow morning, be ready at dawn. ”
You stared at him, mouth wide open in sheer incredulity, letting his words sink in. “Wait, that’s it?”
"I thought you wanted the job.”
"I do! It's just... I wasn't expecting you would accept.”
Zeff took a deep breath and released it with a prolonged exhalation. “You are asking me, and I don’t see any compelling reason to decline.”
"You… you’re not doing this because of Mari, right?”
“If you’re under the impression that I would hire you based on someone else’s endorsement, you are mistaken.”
You were at a loss for words to express your feelings. Relief, joy, and excitement all coursed through you simultaneously.
"I see something in you. They may have led you to believe otherwise, but whoever fed you that crap was blinded by their ignorance.”
"I... thank you, sir.”
Your parents overlooked your value despite your numerous attempts to prove yourself. How could he recognize it so effortlessly, just through that brief narrative of your life?
From everything Sanji had shared with you about the head chef, you had anticipated him to be somewhat difficult to engage with. In reality, he surpassed all your expectations, proving to be a man of depth and remarkable insight.
As Zeff rose, steadying himself on his foot and peg, you followed his lead. The walk to the dining room had an unreal quality, as if you were moving within a bubble, wrestling with something that verged on being a product of your imagination.
Yet, it was as real as it could possibly be.
Zeff offered one last piece of advice, pledging to formally introduce you to the staff by day's end. Mari, in response, immediately wrapped her arms around you, celebrating your success and assuring her old friend that he would never regret bringing you on board.
As the chef left to return to his responsibilities, Sanji reappeared, throwing inquisitive glances your way as Mari energetically shook your hands, her fingers entwined with yours. Part of you pondered if it would be best to keep it a secret until the last possible moment, but you could sense his curiosity gnawing at him.
Considering the fact that you had unexpectedly returned only to request a meeting with his boss, you couldn't really find fault with it.
With a single nod of her head, your friend granted you the honor of announcing the news, stepping aside and moving back to the table. You felt unready and unsure of his potential reaction. The thought of him being disappointed, possibly even losing interest in you, was creating a distressing knot in your stomach.
Regardless, there was no turning back for you, and you were committed to see it through to the end.
"Well, you see, starting from tomorrow, we're going to be coworkers.”
There it was, you had dropped the bombshell right in front of him. Your breath hitched again as you waited, watching his facial expression transform from confusion, to surprise, and then to quiet contemplation. After that initial moment of astonishment, his bright and loving smile re-emerged.
"Now I have an additional reason to fulfill my duty. Welcome to the Baratie, Y/N.”
Needless to say, the urge to hug him once more was irresistible. Your arms encircled his neck as you rose on your toes. It was a spontaneous act, carried out without much deliberation, fueled by your escalating emotions.
And your heart skipped a beat when he returned the gesture, tenderly supporting your back and soothingly caressing it with his hands.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 5 ->
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HERE IT IS 🙌🏻 THE MOMENT LONG AWAITED
Cyare Verd
*OC Raven x Hunter
A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for taking so long but ☝🏼 I edited my original story up to the fourth chapter only to decide I still didn’t like it so guess what I edited the same four chapters again 😅
I’ll start by saying, yes it still follows the season two storyline of The Bad Batch (unoriginal I know) but I did change it up quite a bit. If your looking for Omega (lol) shes gone 👋🏼 I was never a huge fan of her so I wrote her out 🫣 otherwise, I hope you enjoy the new version of my fic. I will be taking it off Wattpad and AO3 in the meantime so I can finish making edits.
Oh, one last thing. If you would like to be tagged please drop a comment or send me a message ☺️ Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking time out of your day to read this. It means the world to me.
Anyways. Without further ado 🤲🏻 I present to you my updated fic 💖
Prologue/Background
Raven (If you see this. It’s the Pov for the following)
Before order 66 went down, I spent my time on Kamino training new batches of clones for the Grand Army of the Republic. I met many of the troopers who lived there during the time including Sargent Hunter of the infamous Clone Force 99. Our interactions were usually quite brief but there was a certain charm about him I enjoyed from our very first encounter. However, I was there to perform my duty to my clan and that always came first.
It was an honor to continue the legacy my father - Kal Skirata - left behind. He and my brothers - the Null ARC’s - have been off trying to thwart a plot they didn’t realize would lead to order 66.
During that time, Kal’Buir had asked that I stay on Kamino not only for intel but also to get out any defecting troopers.
A friend of mine, who is another Mandalorian by the name of Aspen, posed as a supply ship for myself. She would drop off supplies or bring me an array of random items I asked for to validate her being there. Aspen would then smuggle troopers to Mandalore where they were to live out their days as they wished. A part of our clan. Clan Skirata.
When order 66 did finally happen, my brother Ordo had warned me to prepare for something big that would be happening soon. Whether or not he knew exactly what I’ll never know.
For the first few days, I lingered on Kamino waiting for any one of my brothers or Kal’Buir to contact me but it didn’t come. About a week later a droid appeared in my quarters with a message. ‘Get out now. You’re in danger Sen’ika (little bird).’ Kal’Buir was the only one who ever called me Sen’ika - mostly because I hated it but he could get away with anything.
Shortly thereafter, I packed my things discreetly and called for Aspen. She came within a rotation claiming the usual - that she was here to deliver supplies for me - and to my surprise they let her in.
The minute I was on her ship, the two of us left. We ended up on the planet in the mid rim. Where Ord Mantell became our temporary home.
Chapter One: Cid’s Parlor
Raven
Standing out in the busy streets of Ord Mantell, the sun beats down on my beskar fighting the darkness that rests on my shoulders. I will my feet to move it’s as if this weight is too much for them to carry.
My irritation radiates off me as the thunderous pitter patter pounds in my head each time a citizen passes by - must be nice to live so carefree - I think to myself. Yet they pay me no mind, even though the very nature of my armor is intimidating.
The dull black shein of a well-worn helmet that sits upon my head, with the infamous T shaped visor. The rest of the plates are the same color with a few iridescent feathers poking out from underneath. Ironic right.
This armor is my pride and joy. It was a coming of age gift - if that's what you want to call it - from my father. Kal’Buir was by far one of the greatest Mandalorians in the history of our people - though my opinion might be biased.
A wave of sadness washes over me at the thought of him, my family, my brothers, and my best friend Aspen. Shaking the thoughts from my mind I tell myself they wouldn’t want me to sulk. Aspen would smack me if she were here. Unfortunately, the two of us had to go our separate ways after getting into some trouble. What else is new?
Aspen has always been the friend I can count on for anything. We met as kids on Mandalore and practically grew up together. Once we were old enough, the two of us would drink - a little too much - and run our mouths. Sometimes I’d come home with a black eye and Kal’Buir would say ‘I hope the other guy looks worse’. With a osik (shit) eating grin he knew I could handle myself.
Eventually that trouble caught up to us. When I had been on Ord Mantell before, she and I got into it with a group of merc’s and Cid saved our skin. Usually I didn’t pick fights we couldn’t win but that time I did.
That was just after our home was bombed by the Empire. My family. My clan was there as far as I know. Rumor has it the surface is no longer safe. The blast destroyed everything and killed everyone. Grief does funny things to people.
Since then Cid feels we owe her every time she calls. Aspen was smart enough to ignore her but I can’t leave business unfinished. I don’t like owing people anything.
Bitterness courses through my veins and I find my feet moving through the doorway.
Hunter
Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. Which for enhanced senses is why I prefer the solitude of the ship. Let’s not even get into the stench of hot bodies and alcohol might put me over the edge.
I take a deep breath to steady myself and push out the overwhelming sounds and smells, in an attempt to tune back into my brother's conversation. Echo and I were discussing whether or not the Marauder needs maintenance. Which is true it does. However, we don’t have the credits.
One glance over at Wrecker and its obvious Tech is beating him - again - at dejarik.
With a sigh and a gentle swirl of the pint in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid spins like a world pool. The sickly-sweet smell of blood orange and yeast reaches my nose. I let myself get lost in it for a moment, the scent totally washing over me.
The weight of the things we have had to endure begins creeping in. My men. Their safety and well-being are my responsibility. Crosshair.
Before I’m sucked too far into the void, my senses pick up something that wasn’t there a moment ago. Dark, sweet raspberry, rose. I’d recognize that scent anywhere after the hours I’d spent committing it to memory.
Lifting my gaze from my glass, it’s pulled like a force of gravity as a Mandalorian female enters the parlor. A warmth washes over me mixed with a little relief at seeing that all too familiar T-visor. I can’t contain the shock that creeps on my face at her presence or the memory—
‘Alright everyone, today we go over the basics.’ Her voice is crisp but not cold, giving orders and yet…silky smooth. I could listen to her speak to the regs all day.
She continues barking out orders which I recognize as the basics for hand-to-hand combat. I stop listening about half way through just to commit her to memory.
Covered head to toe in dark black beskar, her visor drifts over the group of men before her. The small frame is quite a contrast to the 6ft Clone troopers in formation. She has such a commanding presence, exuding confidence. My eyes roam over her curves and stop at the dual westar -35’s attached to either side of her thighs. For a moment I swear my heart might leap out of my chest—
Raven Skirata.
My trousers suddenly become constricting forcing me to shift uncomfortably. We only ever ran into one another a few times on Kamino. Mostly casual conversation about war efforts. The sound of her laugh when I told her about some of the things we’d improvised on missions, is one my brain never lets me forget. I never did get the courage to ask her about herself.
Raven crosses over to the bar and my eyes follow her every move. It’s only now that I notice she’s skinnier than I remember. Her complexion is quite pale in comparison to the dark circles under her eyes. The sight causes my chest to tighten. What the hell happened?
"Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" the Twi-lek bartender says by way of greeting. There's a long pause as the Raven drops her shoulders considerably.
"Unfortunately, I'm a little low on rations to be wise" she shoots back, that silky smooth voice taking on a sarcastic tone.
Having caught the attention of a rather large man - whose been talking loud enough for everyone in here to hear - he leans over to speak to her.
"Wow, that must be real beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-that...." He slurs a little at the end.
In one smooth motion, Raven ejects her vibro-blade from her vambrace - the steel practically sings - slamming his head into the bar top with the other hand. A loud thud follows. Some of the patrons stop talking to stare while the Twi-lek laughs.
Pressing her blade to his throat she leans in close she sneers, "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head.”
The man proceeds to mumble and she cocks her head at the bar tender as if in annoyance. Letting go of the man he slumps to his knees before getting up and stumbling away, hand pressed to his temple.
I have to work had to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face, the corner of my mouth twitches anyways.
"Don't mess with Mandalorians" Echo chuckles, drawing attention. Raven glances our way tensing. Mentally I command myself to look away but I can’t. For a moment I swear, even through her visor we make eye contact.
Raven
After I’m satisfied I’ve put this man in his place, I let go and he slumps to the floor. Comments fly from over my shoulder but there’s that voice I’ve heard thousands of times that stands out.
I can’t help but turn and that when I see them. The red and white plastoid. Thanking my ancestors for the helmet, I roll my eyes at just how ironic it is they are here. Sargent Hunter and the Bad Batch. He and I have spoken a few times on Kamino but the others I’ve never officially met.
Frozen in place, I stare for a second. The Sargent doesn’t take his eyes off me with an unreadable expression. If I’m lucky he won’t recognize me - I think to myself. Forcing myself to move, I turn back to the bartender with a finger in the air, signaling I’d like a shot.
My gloved hands make their way to my helmet and gently slide it off, letting my messy blonde braid at the back of my head fall. Lately I find myself caring less and less about what I look like.
Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take a breath to steady myself before taking the shot. The burning liquid a welcomed punishment if nothing else.
The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says, throwing an arm over me like we are old pals.
I roll my hazel eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble.
"No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks.
"Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say in my native tongue with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.
————
"Remember what happened last time you threw your attitude around like that? " Cid scolds me as we enter her office.
Picking dust off my flight suit I sass, "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?"
Cid moves behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain, her tone a little too...chipper.
I raise a brow, shifting my weight and hum my dissatisfaction.
Cid immediately gets defensive, “Look it’s not my fault you mandos like to find trouble. You’re just lucky I was there to bail you out. Besides, these guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the Empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible".
The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts.
"I thought you might like that and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten.
"30 and it's a deal" I counter.
"Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous.”
I guess for considering who I’m speaking with… "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?"
"They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" she doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she heads out the door.
For a moment I stay where she left me and contemplate my next move. I can either play it like I don’t know them and take the chance their Sargent will recognize me or…
With an annoyed sigh, I stride over to her desk and set my helmet down before scanning the book shelves. Most of these I’ve read during my ‘spare time’ when Cid let me crash here before. Not surprisingly, there’s nothing new.
Leaning my back against one I take my gloves off and unbraid my hair. The blonde waves fall loosely over one shoulder ending just below my breast. It’s a wonder I ever let it get this long but a part of me just can’t bring myself to cut it.
I make myself comfortable at her desk, leaning back and kicking my boots up on it, When Cid flings the door open and scowls at me. My stomach ties itself into knots but I try to seem disinterested by playing with my hair.
There’s a chance these guys decided like the others to side with the Empire. But the odds they did and they are here? Slim but not zero.
Pushing off the desk I stand and stroll around to the front, leaning against it. A few golden strands fall into my face with the movement. My hands naturally side down towards my blasters holstered at my sides. A defense position that’s become muscle memory. The Sargent eyes follow my every move.
"Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys."
Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. Once again in typical Cid fashion she hid this from me, likely knowing I wouldn’t come.
The largest one of the 4 pushes past.
"I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!" He says very loudly, sticking out his hand. My body is further tensing.
I hesitantly shake his hand, which compared to mine - even with gloves on - looks like it could easily crush it.
"Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary" says the one holding a datapad.
"I am Tech by the way.”
Nodding by way of greeting, I quickly glance over at their Sargent. Had I blinked I would have missed the split second of recognition before the mask of a leader slid into place.
The one with a socket arm glances over at him. Probably from the tension radiating off of me. Those amber eyes see me for exactly who I am.
My breathing picks up, but I quickly get it back under control. The former doesn’t seem to notice, not taking his eyes off me.
I decide to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Hoping to hide whatever it is he sees.
Shaking his head like he’s having a difficult time dragging himself from thought, introduces himself.
“I'm their Sargent-well was their Sargent...Hunter and this is Echo" he gestures to socket arm.
Echo waves at me with his socket and a soft smile. I nod slowly and clear my throat.
“I know who you are.”
Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad to look at me once again. Before he or anyone else can I say anything I continue,
“Raven. Raven Skirata.”
————
When I start towards my ship - alright so it's not really my ship, I stole it - I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t hear someone call out to me.
"Wouldn't it just be easier if we all went together?"
I stop not bothering to turn around "How do I know you won't leave me behind?"
If these are the clones I’ve heard so much about, there’s a good chance I can trust them. However, my instincts are telling me not to. Echo, almost like he is reading my mind says,
"You can trust us, we aren't like the others".
The sorrow in his voice fills the space between us, making me uncomfortable. I roll my shoulders, hands flexing at my sides.
Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things in my pack, and come back out to see Echo standing where I left him. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. With a small nod he leads the way.
As we approach, I stop for a moment before heading up the ramp to admire the hull before me. An Omicron class attack shuttle but it’s been modified. It’s just as impressive if not more so in person. My brothers - specifically Mereel and Jaing - would have loved this thing, I can practically hear them fighting with even Ordo for who would pilot.
With a few steps up the ramp, I peer inside and it’s notably clean. Briefly I take in the surroundings noting the others up front in the cockpit area. Echo glances back at me sensing my hesitation.
“I’ll show you around”
I tip my visor towards him appreciatively, without saying a word.
————
Echo finishes the tour with the bunks, two on the left and two on the right. He gestures to the right, showing me which one is mine and offers me a gentle smile. With a quick glance I realize there are only 4 of them.
“Hunter usually stays up in the cockpit. You get his bunk.”
Great.
I nod my appreciation again and take my pack off my shoulder. The only things in it are a couple changes of regular clothes and some rations. I've not got much to lose that isn't my beskar these days.
Placing my pack on the lower bunk, the mythosaur skull on the back of my gloves stare back at me with hollow eyes. It’s almost like they know. Our people are gone. For a moment I wonder if anyone will even remember what it means.
I forgot Echo was still standing there until his throat clears. He says carefully, “Your father is Kal Skirata.”
My heart starts to thunder in my chest at the mention of his name. I finish settling my pack before I turn to face him. A part of me wants to answer but it feels like my mouth is full of cotton. I mentally thank my ancestors for the visor between us.
“He was one of my instructors. In my early days I mean. He was always really good to us. I heard about what he did...he got some of us out.”
Silence fills the space. I slide my helmet off, tucking it under an arm. Unable to look him in the eye, my boots seemingly interesting all the sudden.
“He’s gone.” My voice almost doesn’t sound like my own. Distant.
“Too many good people have been lost because of the war. I’m sorry to hear that.”
In his kind words, the galaxy feels a little less lonely. I finally lift my head and meet his gaze, seeing the loss there.
“I’m sorry for your loss too.”
Echo only offers me a somber smile in response. My walls go back up and I decide to change the subject. It comes out a little sassier than I had intended.
“So, you all have enhanced something or other right? I mean I was on Kamino and spoke to your Sargent a few times but mostly what I know is what I’ve heard.”
”Each of us had a unique quality. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter has enhanced senses, and Tech is really smart.”
”Wasn’t there another member? Crosshair?”
Another sad look from him, “He chose the Empire.”
“Ah” I nod my understanding. “How do you fit in here?”
He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles.
“I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. We were on Skako minor and I was blown up. Captured by the Techno union and they made me mostly a machine.” Echo lifts his socket arm as a reference.
“My Captain. Rex. He and the Bad Batch rescued me. I owe them everything.”
That name. Captain Rex. It sounds familiar. ”No offense but you just met me and you trust me enough to tell me all this?” My sass once more evident.
He smiles and says “Your father spoke highly of you.”
My throat closes up at the same time pride washes over me. When I don’t respond he continues.
“I’ll leave you to get settled in” and with that he turns and heads toward the cockpit.
I watch as he reaches the others and takes a seat. Unable to do anything else other than process what he just said.
————
It takes me a while to recover from the conversation. A part of me hesitates to comm Aspen but I can’t risk compromising her.
Instead, I take my time to check my weapons (two blasters at my hip, vibro blade in my vambrace, and the various blades stashed in my boots and under my back plate). No one bothers to check on me, which is just as well. Finally, I end with checking the HUD in my helmet - which seems to be functioning fine.
Discarding my helmet on the bunk, I head for the cockpit where the others are chatting quietly. The hushed tones likely to prevent me from overhearing. Hunter stiffens as I approach which only confirms my thought.
The four seats at the front were taken up by each of the members. Leaning against the doorway I cross my arms over my chest plate.
"We don't have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I'm paid, I'm gone. You won't have to worry after that.” The annoyance plastered on my face is visible to all.
They all glance at one another except Hunter, his eyes fixed on my face like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. He almost looks hurt at my comment.
"That seems reasonable" Tech says very matter of factly.
”Great. So, what's the plan?”
“Get to Serenno and scout the area." Hunter says turning his attention to space zooming by at light speed.
I sigh, "That's not much of a plan but I can improvise."
Wrecker chimes in, ”Ahaha you’ll fit right in!” Awkward silence fills the space before I break it.
“Right. Well I guess we should all rest up so let me know when we land.” Spinning on a heel, I head for the bunks.
Next Chapter here.
Wattpad link here.
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A/N: Happy Valentines Day to you all! Enjoy some Densi.
***
We’ll Make Our Own Fun
“That was fun,” Kensi said, glancing at Rosa briefly as she turned onto Roberta’s street.
“Yes, thank you for coming with me.” Rosa held up her hand, examining her fingernails, currently adorned with a pink and white striped design. “I feel very fancy.”
“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed your first manicure.” She parked in front of Roberta’s house, which was completely lit from inside. “I can’t remember the last time I got one. Maybe our wedding.”
“Well, now you’re all ready for Valentine’s Day,” Rosa told her cheerfully.
Kensi snorted. “Yeah, Deeks and I have never had the best luck when it comes to celebrating holidays. Caleb and Sophia won’t exactly increase the romance.” She held up a finger, even though Rosa hadn’t looked ready to object. “Not that I would change anything.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to enjoy the evening.” Smiling, Rosa opened the passenger door. “Oh, Roberta asked me to help her move some boxes, so I might not be home before Steven picks me up.”
“Ok, well have fun, be safe, and tell Steven we say hi. Call if you need anything,” Kensi said, leaning over to give Rosa a hug.
“I will.”
Out of habit, Kensi waited until Rosa was actually inside before pulling out of the driveway. It took approximately a minute to drive to their house, which was about 20 seconds longer than Roberta on foot thanks to her various shortcuts.
She came in through the back door, and the first thing she registered was the relative quiet. The second was the scent of rich spices permeating the air.
“Deeks,” Kensi called out, slowly walking from the kitchen into the dining room. She stilled just inside the entrance, her mouth dropping open slightly as she took in the candle lit room, table set with their finest dishes, Deeks standing to the side. “Deeks,” she repeated more softly.
“Surprise,” he said, crossing over to her. He took her hands, gently drawing her towards the table.
“What is all this?” It was fairly obvious, but Kensi felt vaguely stupid right now. She’d anticipated walking in to the twins needing something, not a romantic dinner.
“Your Valentine’s present.”
“I thought the spa session was my present,” Kensi said, narrowing her eyes as a suspicion began to build.
“The manicure was just a ploy to get you out of the house for a couple hours,” Deeks explained. “Rosa was extremely happy and eager to assist.”
Kensi recalled Rosa checking her phone periodically throughout their nail appointment. She’d assumed she was testing Steven, or a friend, but she’d likely been giving Deeks updates.
“Rosa’s interference aside, how did you have time to decorate and cook a meal in two and a half hours?”
“Well, mom watched the oven a couple of times when the twins needed something.”
“Baby, this is amazing. I can’t believe you planned all this for me,” Kensi murmured, wrapping her arms around him, and laying her cheek on his chest. She stayed there for a few moments, then tipped her head back to kiss him.
“I figured we deserved to celebrate for once. Especially with how crazy the last year has been,” he said. Squeezing her tightly for a few seconds, he slid his hands down to hers, guiding her to the table.
He lifted the lid off Kensi’s plate with a flourish. “For my lady bird, we have authentic carnitas—or as close as I could get it with Rosa’s help—with a side of refried beans, and as much guacamole as your heart desires,” Deeks declared, gesturing to the large plate.
Kensi’s mouth watered as she stared at the perfect looking tacos. She licked her bottom lip, considering the food, then Deeks for a moment. He was wearing her favorite shirt and pants; the ones that seemed to drive all sane thought from her head.
“Where are Caleb and Sophia?” she asked, dropping her voice as though they might hear her.
“Sleeping. I got them down about 20 minutes ago.”
“Good.” She took his hand, dragging him away from the table.
“Woah, Kens, don’t you want to eat?” he asked, sounding completely confused. She paused, turning to face him.
“I do. It look absolutely phenomenal baby, but Rosa is out for the next few hours, the twins are sleeping, and…I’d like to take advantage of this unforeseen opportunity.” She dropped her eyes to travel down Deeks’ body, straightening his collar.
He fixed her with one eye, his mouth open in an incredulous laugh. “Kensi, you’re not…are you sure that’s a good idea this soon?”
Sighing, Kensi pressed her forehead against his cheek. It just made her want him even more. “Ok, maybe we shouldn’t have sex just yet, but I’m sure we can find something fun to do. Unless you don’t want to.”
Deeks chuckled, shaking his head to deny the suggestion. Pulling her closer, he cradled her cheeks, kissing her deeply enough that Kensi’s entire body felt like it might combust. “The food can wait,” he decided, when he pulled away.
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Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Chapter 9
I...still have a lot of catching up to do since I'm updating the main story again. Thank you for your patience!
This episode takes a step back to explore Reader and Venom's relationship, but the next chapter should bring us back.
Masterlist
Previous Chapter
AO3 Version Here
NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE (2) PDNY Chief on the headless, handless body discovered last night: “We will catch the person who did this. We will give this innocent victim the justice they deserve.”
Hottest Spider-Man merch and memorabilia available to purchase right now, just in time for Christmas!
~
At the end of the day, no matter how you look at it, you’re going to need help.
You’re going to need Spider-Man’s help, specifically.
Granted, it’s going to be a little awkward since you’re going to a professional superhero with what’s essentially their ex in tow. Will you unintentionally open up old wounds? Probably. Is there a chance Spider-Man might see you as a villain rather than an innocent bystander with unnecessary baggage they want to get rid of? Most likely, but that might be the anxiety talking.
Then again, how were you supposed to track down your friendly neighborhood hero? Signal him with a floodlight into the sky with a spider on it? Actually, that might be a good-No...no, it wouldn’t now that you thought about it. It’ll just attract unneeded attention from everyone except the said hero. Venom mentioned that he developed something from his former host, something that detects, to a degree, the potential danger that’s nearby. If both you and Spider-Man go out on patrol tonight and sense something, it’s possible that you could ‘accidentally’ bump into each other. This is genius!
As much as you want to get the tea on him, school comes first. Besides, whoever’s behind that spider mask would love to enjoy having some normalcy in his life before some high schooler (you) barges in with their alien former host under their skin. Either way, you wouldn’t mind skipping out on club duties. It’s a good compromise, in your opinion.
Speaking of which, school just couldn’t drag out any longer than it already is. It sucked that everyone in the hallway might be staring at you as if they knew who you had for dinner against your will last night. It wasn’t your fault. Kyle had you cornered when it was dark and-
The screech of the bell made you jump. Damn, was that bell always so loud? What time was...oh yea, it’s lunchtime. There’s no doubt in your mind that the most popular girl in school, Stacy Adams, would be looking for you. It didn’t help your case as you overheard two of her minions talking to each other about how worried their boss is since her boyfriend suddenly ghosted her. Sucks to say that’s not the only kind of ghost he is now.
Your best bet in being undetected by Manhattan’s own Plastics is to hide in the third-floor bathroom by the physics labs. Just you, your body co-pilot, and the “hamburger” you refused to eat based on recent events in your life. Venom was more than happy to eat it, but he quickly spat it out after the first bite. Why did you bother even buying lunch today? Did you hope that some attempt at sleeping and one swig of mouthwash is going to wash away the taste of Kyle (or the robber in Koreatown, or the drunkard on Tenth Avenue, or the creep that followed you into the subway station in Harlem, or….) overnight?
With an annoyed sigh nothing better to do to occupy your thoughts, you use your free hands to take out your phone and open up Twitter.
You remembered your good friend Hannah is a very avid fan of Spider-Man. She practically knows almost everything about him. She's good with data gathering, but not the investigative logic needed to piece together the entire puzzle. Her side hustle is running a Twitter page dedicated to pinpointing Spider-Man’s exact location, kinda like Manhattan Bird Watch. And to think she’s doing this manually without a bot. If it wasn't for the five other accounts that have been established years ago dedicated to spotting him more accurately and her lackluster posting time, there’s a possibility she might’ve been verified by her hard work alone.
You, on the other hand, were indifferent to superheroes. You never really found the need to insert them into your life until one literally inserted his life into you last week (Does he count as a ‘hero’ though?). So now you have to keep an eye on Hannah's guesstimations and figure out how you can remove an alien parasite out of you with your organs still solid and intact. At the same time, you’re keeping an eye out to see if there’s any suspicious activity that would warrant the webbed hero’s intervention. It’ll be hard to do some galaxy brain predictions while Venom’s currently biting your liver in retaliation, but it’ll work out somehow. Maybe.
“We are not a parasite! Apologize!” Said the parasite.
“Quit chewing at my organs like a dog toy and I will.” You shot back irritated. “I can’t juggle between thinking and trying not to be eaten alive here.” You weren’t surprised when he nipped your kidney for that retort.
After constant flicking back and forth from Twitter to the map app you made a broad assumption that he’s currently on a course heading to either Manhattan or Brooklyn. You don’t have any idea what could be lying in either location, and nothing that’s currently trending could help you outside of the latest ‘is over party’ filled with idol fancams. He’s obviously not going to drop his location on every tweet on his verified account.
“Aaargh. Why is everything so difficult?” Your whines echo in the bathroom. “He’s either in Coney Island or Long Island, and I don’t think he’d be hanging out in his vineyard out on the forks with nothing to stick on.” A pause. “...Does he even own a vineyard?”
None that we know of.
Letting out another frustrated groan, you continue your search on the web. As you expect, it’s as misinformed as you can expect. Some even claim he’s in Japan. What kind of ‘friendly neighborhood hero’ would he be if he was on the other side of the planet? Ugh, this is so frustrating. At this rate you might as well go out...and…..find him…
If you can’t go to Spider-Man, then your only option is to bring Spider-Man to you…hold on.
You glare at the tendril. “Stop putting thoughts into my head.”
“It’s our head. We share the same thoughts.”
“Alright, then what number am I thinking of?” Hopefully, he doesn’t pick 421.
“421.” Damn it, he’s good.
There is a certain risk of being the problem rather than solving them. Yeah, there are villains and then there are supervillains. Yeah, Spider-man can take on villains, but it’s the supervillains that will most likely take priority over everything so the city doesn’t topple to its knees overnight. Hell, you even had to do evacuation drills for this scenario!
The shrill of the period end bell brings you back to the current day. Cursing at the outdated machine, your companion sunk back into your body as you exited the bathroom. Rather than paying attention in class, your focus went to trying to iron out how you can cross paths with the man in red and blue spandex.
~
By the end of the school day, the antsy feeling inside you was getting harder to contain. Are you nervous? Excited? It’s hard to tell at this point. The idea of seeing Spider-Man, like actually seeing him up close and having an actual conversation with him...it’s giving you the chills. You’ve never been this worked up over a superhero before. Hopefully, Hannah doesn’t bring up how much you’ve changed in the past two weeks.
God, where do you even start? Where do you go first? There’s so much happening in the city that trying to find where Spider-Man is going to end up makes finding a needle in a haystack child’s play.
You could use a knish right about now. Can’t track a spider down on an empty stomach.
~
NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE (2) PDNY baffled in figuring out the identity of the decapitated victim. Skeptics say this is related to attacks with similar MO in the past weeks.
Today’s Poll: Do you believe we’re witnessing the beginning of a new villain?
~
“Excuse me, have any of you seen Spider-Man recently?” While it is a polite and straightforward conversation starter, it’s technically not the correct way to start a conversation with some obviously shady people. Well, to be fair, you did follow them into a secluded area that was clearly off-limits. Logically, they would’ve bumped into the hero you’re looking for.
Now here you are, head in your hands in a warehouse painted ceiling to floor in blood and viscera. Is it worth mentioning that the head that you’re holding in question isn’t even your own?
“God...damn it.” You sighed as you threw the body part somewhere behind you. You didn’t have the appetite to eat it now. “I didn’t think this through.” You groaned as you buried your actual head into your very bloody hands.
“We couldn’t help it.” Venom tries to assure you. “We need the strength to find him again.”
“But-ughh.” This is what you get for being the host of a brain-eating parasite, you supposed. "We gotta find an alternate energy source."
You get flashbacks to last night’s incident. You could remember getting out of your club meeting pretty late, and being followed home by the most popular girl in your school’s boyfriend right after. Everything was a blur after that. Vague memories were practically a slideshow in your mind. You remembered running, but hit a dead end. You could recall the menacing shadow that could only belong to an athlete. Then a headless body drops to your feet, and your stomach needing an emergency exit...
Ugh. You could feel your head starting to hurt just thinking about it. The damage has already been done, and you’ll get locked up sooner or later. It’s not like you’re eating people on purpose (yeah you are). This is why you need Spider-Man’s help.
He can show you how to apply discipline, how to control your power, and maybe...fight alongside him?
“Stop it!” Your voice echoed. “We’re getting sidetracked. We need to find the damn guy first!” Oh no, are those police sirens you’re hearing? You’re starting to hate the high pitch wailing of the horns recently. Better get out of here before you get a taste of undercooked pork.
~
NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE BREAKING: Police discover a gruesome scene at warehouse with known connections to the Manfredi Crime Family. Rival families deny any involvement.
~
After cross-referencing Twitter, it’s safe to say Spider-Man is estimated to show up somewhere nearby. Emphasis on the ‘somewhere’. Rather, it’s more of a toss-up between either East Midtown or Upper East Side. In an effort to keep your feet on the ground a little longer, you had an idea.
“Well I can’t roll up in the same space as your ex without knowing anything about him. Let’s make a quick detour, I know a place.” And so here you are at Midtown Comics.
It was the hottest spot for all things superheroes. Hannah dragged you to this place on more than one occasion. It’s super popular and it gets packed all the time. While a second store was established in an attempt to alleviate the issue, the appeal of even stepping in the flagship store as if it was a holy site attracted tourists in droves. Hell, it’s getting dark out and there’s still a sizable crowd in here.
You couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer amount of merch for this web-slinging hero. The fact you can plaster his face on just about anything...you couldn’t help but wonder how much of a profit this guy gets on royalties alone. He has to own a vineyard with that money.
As you looked around and flipped through some comic book pages here and there, you couldn’t help how quiet Venom got when you showed up. You would hope he would give you some kind of inside scoop, maybe a walk down memory lane when you looked at some prints, but voiceless commentary tells a lot.
You, uh, okay there...buddy?
What you got in response was, in your interpretation, some form of a grunt. Oh, that might be bad.
Is this too much? I knew I should’ve gone to Kino but-
Not it.
“Huh?” You voiced your confusion, causing some customers to look at you. In an attempt to save face, you covered your ear as if you were adjusting your earbud. “What do you mean ‘not it’?”
Doesn’t feel right. We don’t know why.
Well...that certainly comes at a surprise. Then again, you are looking at artistic interpretations of his ex rather than the real deal. It would make sense to feel weird, you thought. Then again, what other superhero swings around NYC in red and blue spandex? You honestly had to think about what else you could or were going to say. Although, you did note a nervous feeling in your gut despite not experiencing it personally.
Suddenly, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stick up. Then that strange experience you had a few days ago started happening again. You only had a few seconds to brace yourself before the world started to shake.
A loud explosion rocked your ears. Gasps and shrieks filled the store. Lights began to flicker in and out as books and other items fell off the shelves. You half processed a hardcover book hitting your head during what you can only describe as a seizure. And just as quickly as it happened, it stopped. One hand reached for the impact spot while the other used the shelves to push you back up.
Holy shit! What was that? You thought, followed by, I have to get out of here!
That feeling in your gut came back twofold. The tingling sensation from your neck doesn’t feel like it’ll go away soon. While you were getting used to the sporadic occurrences of the earthquakes, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something’s different. Oh no! Could someone be trapped under some rubble outside?
With no time to waste, you barreled out the store and clambered up the closest wall to scout out the immediate area. There have been some things that have toppled over not to mention several cars piled up near Times Square. It looks like nobody got seriously hurt thankfully. You could hear emergency vehicles echoing throughout the city. While there isn’t anything that sticks out like a sore thumb, you still have that gnawing feeling in your stomach.
“I wonder where Spider-Man is?” You thought aloud. According to the news, he would drop in to assess the damage before doing what he needs to do then dip. He should be here any moment but...where is he? Guess you should check Twitter.
A barrage of notifications greeted you as you reached for your phone. As you open your lock screen, you can see messages from Hannah that sound very distressing. Incomprehensible even. It was hard to read them as they kept coming and coming. Is she okay? This isn’t like her at all.
Unfortunately, the cause of Hannah’s distress texting decided to make itself known on your phone. While you could feel your heart drop, the rest of your body froze when a news notification emerged in the sea of texts.
NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE BREAKING: New York’s Hero Spider-Man has died. His identity revealed to be grad student Peter Parker, 26.
“N-No…” Your voice was so small. Your phone slipped from your hand and dropped to your feet. “This...This can’t be…” The denial was only shot down by more and more news notifications popping up.
The next moment you could remember was staring at a TV display somewhere in the city. You watched helplessly as the reporters struggled not to cry on camera as they explained that Peter-no, you have no right to call him that after your search for him came to naught. They explained that Spider-Man succumbed to his injuries caused by the current earthquake that toppled several buildings in Brooklyn.
You try not to acknowledge the reflection in the window. Those weren’t tears running down your face. The owner of that defeated look in their eyes isn’t you. But man, you look so tired.
“What am I going to do?” You croaked, peeling away from the display. “I couldn’t even track him down properly. How was I supposed to know he was in Brooklyn?” Worst of all, you’re starting to fear that Venom might not see any use for you after this spectacular failure. “What do you think?” Instead of a backhanded remark, you get...nothing. For a minute, at least.
“Not him.” He replied.
You couldn't have but blink. “What?”
“That’s not our Spider-Man.” A tendril emerged from your shoulder. He glanced at the TV before looking at you. “He was younger, we think. No ‘grad school’. Darker hair too.”
And that just adds the finisher to the wombo-combo series of events you still have yet to process. Your head hurts for a variety of reasons. All you want is to crawl into bed and hope all of this was a bad dream or some kind of hallucinogenic drug made by a mad scientist that's in the air. Anything that chases away the inevitable thoughts of your actions being for naught.
You try to find your way home. The only things you could feel were the tears running down your face and the headache you’ll have by the time you get to bed.
Hopefully everything will return to normal tomorrow and you can try again.
~
Unfortunately, it was all still very real. Even as you watched the funeral procession from a nearby rooftop, your entire body was buzzing.
A huge crowd dressed in red and blue gathered around the cathedral soaking in the eulogy given by the widow of their fallen idol. The speech itself was beautiful and inspiring. The weight crushing down on your shoulders seemed to dissipate for a moment. You were hopeful that the world was indeed counting on you, but you were quickly crushed by the reality of the situation. This isn’t helped by the tingling feeling in the back of your neck. It wasn’t too much of a concern, but it’s going off just low enough that you could ignore it if you don’t focus on it.
Somehow, someway, Spider-Man wasn't the ‘one’. Yes, it is Spider-Man that you're looking for, but the only one that exists is, well, no longer existing.
“I’m so tired.” You said mindlessly.
“We know.”
You let your hands run down your face in frustration. “What am I going to do now?”
“What are we going to do?”
“...Ugh, yeah. Fine.”
You stood up and left your spot. This was getting too much for you. The headache from last night hasn’t gone away either. No amount of pain medication (that is quickly rejected back up by your partner) could do the trick, so you've resorted to ineffective temple rubbing. With that said and done, you picked yourself up from your ledge. As you did, the weird feeling in your neck was…pushing you. It wouldn’t reprimand you from going another direction, but it encouraged you when you did follow its guidance. Is this the famous sixth sense Spider-Man was said to have? Only one way to find out!
And so, you found yourself standing outside Brooklyn Visions Academy the very next day. With your companion dressing up as one of the standard uniforms you saw, you enter the charter school with shaky steps as you find someone that can help you with your current predicament.
#friends like you and us#spidersona#spiderverse#spiderman into the spiderverse x reader#spiderverse x reader#spiderman into the spiderverse & reader#spiderman into the spiderverse#venom symbiote x reader#venom x reader#venom/reader#venom#x reader#reader insert fanfiction#reader insert#marvel x reader#marvel fanfiction#my writing
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intro post :)))
hm okay so most basic information about meee. the name is arian, my pronouns are strictly he/him. i am a sex-averse asexual (not sex-repulsed. keep that in mind because i do interact with suggestive content like a sex joke or a smut fanfiction sometimes. so be wary of that please !!). also on the arospec, specifically panromantic. i like to write A Lot and you will know from my posts. i am regrettably not a funny person either. hmm i think that's all !!
fandoms !
stranger things - all posts tagged under #the monster show that got really popular - don't exactly post so much about it? you might see this tag only when i might be engaging with my st mutuals or when i post a fanfiction update
the magnus archives - all posts tagged under #rusty quill presents: this man has too many eyes. - a tag you shall see very often !! have not begun s5 (will touch that probably, next month?) but got hugely spoilered for it.
the magnus protocol - all posts tagged under #rusty quill presents: the lack of eyes is causing me unease. - i am in the place with most of the fandom ! waiting for the next episode that is.
the goldfinch - all posts tagged under #the gay bird book - you will probably never see it now, still worth checking out my old posts? i don't even remember if they were good or not.
the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy - all posts tagged under #crash into the 42nd answer - live laugh love 80s sci-fi comedy series that forever changed my style of humor.
death note - all posts tagged under #something about death and a notebook. or whatever. she dies of diarrhea in three minutes. - enjoy the lawlight brainrot.
tags !
#🍂 arian's shit : all text post that i wrote myself ! every post i didn't reblog, all of that !! even some reblogs are tagged with this if i add a lot of my own thoughts to another post.
#🪐 arian's asks : my replies to asks i get :) anons are tagged with #those who have no name and the hate anons are tagged with #those who deserve no name i only got one hate anon even that was in my old blog but it's best to be prepared ! if it's not an anon ask, i will tag it with the asker's username or if they are mutual, they get a special tag !
#📷 arian's friends <33 : all the interaction with my mutuals and friends <3
#📝 arian writes fanfiction : pretty self explanatory !! all the times i mention my fanfiction !
☁ arian's very complicated and strange dreams : a very miscellaneous tag ! basically talking about my dreams
#🌌 arian contemplates his universe : textposts written by me that are not really connected to a specific fandom. posts might get a bit personal/random/vent-y
fanfiction !
the goldfinch
things we don't talk about . : xandra hears strange, loud and suspicious noises from theo’s bedroom. upon closer inspection, she discovers that boris is staying the night. the next morning, she confronts them about it. 1/1 , tw references to alcohol, implications of underage sex, internalized homophobia. not my best work at all, but you can read this one !!
six of crows
a fool's game : modern era hs au where the crows are hired by their principal van eck to steal the rival school fjerda high's mascot before the games. 6/? abandoned. tws of six of crows really. don't read this one, abandoned and i don't know how to even feel about this.
stranger things
i got your letter (hope you feel better than i do) : will gets sent a series of anonymous love letters in his locker. mike's been awfully quiet about this. 2/2, tw internalized homophobia. i don't really like this one but it's been very well-received so you can give this shot if you !
your apparition passes through me : that's the masterpost, everything you need to know :)) DO read this one, this is still very much ongoing <3
we both matter (don't we?) : mike asks max if she could go to California with him on spring break. that sounds like a bad idea, but she goes for it. el is unhappy in lenora; she is not in love with one of her first friends, but she is painfully in love with the certain red-haired skateboarder girl, who makes her laugh. 1/2 i have no idea if there will be a continuation? this was really good in my opinion, kind of sucks that it didn't get any love :((
upcoming !
stranger things
two byler fanfiction, both coincidentally i'll be co-writing with mutuals :). one of them is a eeaao au, written with @qulizalfos and the other is very longfic, slightly crack fic written with @iamtheoneandonlyever that documents mike and will's life from college, all the way to their fifties.
the magnus archives
আমি তো চক্ষুর বস্ত্র ধরে / দেখতে পাই অতীত, ভবিষ্যত, পৃথিবীর অধ্যাত্ম। : a character study of jonathan sims, before being the Archivist. all written entirely in bangla, bangladeshi!jon obviously, a focus on his language, his grandmother and his culture. only like two people in the fandom probably can read this.
here are my side-blogs :)) : @incaseimakeit-daily and @16-04-16-daily . also, credits for the dividers goes to @//saradika-graphics :))
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @greypetrel---thanks, as always! 💗
Tagging in turn (no pressure!) @star--nymph @ndostairlyrium @daggerbean @zenstrike @blightbear @inquisimer @dreadfutures @dungeons-and-dragon-age @nightwardenminthara @vakarians-babe
First, Warden scarf update: Progress is much quicker now that I am working on a more standard stitch. I am really enjoying the silver next to the blue and looking forward to the chainmail-y look it'll have as I add more rows. I am toying with trying to make an embroidered griffon, but that's an ambitious amount of embroidery for my current skill level. Still workshopping it a bit, but hoping to finish for the end of the month. Also, I finally found the right purple for the Leliana scarf, so I can finally finish that one, too!
And also, I have been working on some Baldur's Gate fic (below) as I feel out voice and dynamics:
“Back to camp?” she asked the others.
Grumbling, they staggered their way back toward the clearing they’d chosen for the night.
“What was it like?” Shadowheart asked, some time later. “Being a prodigy, I mean.”
Tav glanced sideways just in time to catch Gale’s grimace. The orb troubled him, she knew; he’d called himself prideful before, and perhaps losing so much of his skill had humbled him. Even so, nobody liked to have their nose rubbed in what they’d lost. Very well, then. She would take this blow much as she’d taken the arrow aimed for the wizard’s neck not half an hour earlier.
“Lonely,” she said, finding the path before her and focusing on it. “You are held apart. Always praised before anyone else. Your peers resent you, even as they wish to imitate you. Mentors teach you your art at the exclusion of all other skills; the holes left by that sort of thing are never found until years later. One day, you realize that you are a master of your craft—this is around when everyone else has already learned how to make friends and fall in love and plan a life outside of your specialty. In this, you are woefully behind. But the acclaim—from far away, everybody loves you. They talk about you in their fine halls and in the city streets. They write poems and songs about what you’ve done.”
She sighed, still trying to find the words.
“But by then—you never get to be a person again. It’s already too late.”
A bird sang in the tree overhead. Distracted, Tav paused and peered up at it. A simple tree sparrow, she thought. It blended almost perfectly with the branch it perched atop.
“Lovely day, innit,” the bird said, and she smiled slightly.
“It is. The best I’ve seen in an age.”
“You take care down there,” the bird said, peering down at them. “Big crowd of arseholes wandering round the woods these days. Burning trees, like.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised, and the wound on her shoulder ached at the words. “Safe flight. Warm nest.”
“And you as well, mum,” the bird said, and fluttered away into the shadows of the wood.
Tav hummed to herself, thinking about the smoke they’d seen in the distance. How far away might it be from camp? If someone really was burning the wood, they ought to do something about it before it caused even more harm than the crashed nautiloid.
“Gods,” Astarion said, abruptly at her elbow, and she started. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many words at once. Did that spider knock something loose in that hard—I mean darling head of yours?”
“Yes,” Shadowheart agreed, peering at her. “Awfully specific, too. What was it you said you did again? Before the tadpole and the crash, I mean.”
“Oh, nothing,” Tav told them, turning again to catch the last sight of the sparrow through the trees. “I’ve lived at the temple for years. I’m no one of any account.”
She started walking again. This seemed the best way to avoid the question—the other two being the ones most likely to spend long hikes grumbling than any of her other new companions. Unfortunately, Astarion kept pace with great ease. This was the trouble with all the armor, she decided unhappily. Once she got going, she could barrel right into an ogre and knock it over, but he had her beat for sheer speed. There would be no escape.
“Oh, really?” he said. “And yet I somehow get the feeling you aren’t being entirely honest. Come now, darling, you’re among friends. Surely it wouldn’t kill you to share something. We’re all just dying to know more.”
Something delicate and sharp crawled up her throat. Glass; always shattered glass. Tav choked it back and focused on the trees and the ground beyond.
“We hail from the same place,” she reminded him, glancing at the pale elf from the corner of her eye. “You said yourself you don’t recognize me.”
Because she had shut herself away in her workshop for years. He almost certainly knew her name—the old one—but he would not know her now. What a blessing that was, from the hands of her Morninglord himself. How little it mattered then that she did not recognize herself when it meant that nobody else would, either.
“I suppose I did,” he said, but his eyes remained narrow.
“Say now,” Gale called from behind them, “about those boots you found. I think I’ve deciphered the enchantment on them. Rather clever—and simple to explain, too. You see—”
He launched into a detailed explanation not only of the boots in question, but also the method by which they might have been enchanted in the first place. Tav breathed a small, private sigh of relief and nodded to him in thanks. Gale smiled back, eyes crinkling at the corners. The topic, it would seem, had been dropped.
For now, at least.
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Goldenheart AU Pt. 4
Finally got around to doing part 4 of this AU, and this time we are exploring Nimona's backstory. Also, I highly recommend checking out the first three parts otherwise some things might not make sense. (If anyone had already read Part 3 (Bal's backstory) I updated it because I think the story makes more sense like this, so I suggest checking it out again!
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Well then here we go, Nimona's backstory. And please don't hesitate to add on to this in the tags or replies or send me a message about ideas you might have!
Quick warning, there's discussion of malnourishment at the beginning.
Nimona
Nimona's parents weren't the best really. They neglected their only child and provided only the basic needs they might need to survive, and Child Protective Services were contacted after many people noted how thin and malnourished they were, so they were placed in the foster system
They never stayed with the same family for long, their love for chaos and energetic attitude being too much for many
They adored animals and have often brought home snakes, frogs, etc. They've also tried many times to get into cages at the zoo, which always drove their foster parents crazy.
They had been fostered by these two kind people for around two weeks when a boy around ten years older than them arrived. His name was Ballister.
They had never had to deal with older kids before, much less 16 year old kids, but they assumed scaring him away or infuriating him was going to be as easy as it was with their past foster parents and that he was just an added obstacle
It really wasn't
When they tried getting into the basins at the aquarium, Vivian (foster mother) just snatched them away and brought them to the shark exhibit, something she new they loved and they spend the rest of the day there
When they tried getting into the cages at the zoo, William (foster father) picked them up and brought them either to one of the shows where they could watch birds or into one of those cage tunnels where the lions are all around you
And whenever they messed with Ballister's stuff or stole some things from his room, instead of getting mad, he'd ask them if they wanted to learn how certain things worked or offered to give them the thing they stole (he thought they liked them when it really was just to piss him off)
It was all annoying, the fact that none of them seemed to mind their chaotic nature, but in a way, it was also... freeing?
Before, everyone told them that they would need to act more lady-like in the future or that they needed to "tone it down" basically forcing them to keep all their energy inside until they exploded, usually with anger
Now, they could run around all they wanted and talk for hours at a time about how sharks are cool and someone would be listening at all time
They also really liked Ballister who always shared information he gathered about things they enjoyed and never minded when they corrected him about facts they go wrong
He talked a lot about a past friend of his and swears it was the Ambrosius Goldenloin, but they don't believe him
(They also quickly found out that the best way to piss him off was to play freestyle jazz, but they only took advantage of that a little)
They also quickly realized that they connected with music. Because while Bal preferred the bass and Nimona the drums, those instruments went pretty well together and they always had fun watching videos of combinations of those two
When Nimona turned 7, her biological parents had their rights terminated as they were unfit to care for a child, and Vivian and William offered to adopt them, and it didn't take long for them to agree. It was a long process, but eventually Nimona became their official child, along with Ballister who was adopted by them not long after
When Bal turned 17, a little less than a year after he arrived in the foster home, their foster parents bought him a bass set, and he was absolutely giddy
Nimona may or may not have been sour about it, but their parents promised them that they'd get their drum set one day, so it was fine
Sure enough, around three years later, Nimona got their drum set on their tenth birthday, and Vivian and William never said a thing about the loud banging that could be heard throughout the house while Bal helped them learn
Then, two years later, Bal was 22 and Nimona 12, and they both wanted to help their parents with the rent because money was starting to become rough and Bal saw how it was live on very little money and didn't want to go through that again and Nimona loved their family too much to see it crumble down
They both knew that little jobs at the park or with the mailman wouldn't cut it this time, and they also knew they had talent when it came to their instruments and music, but being just them two wouldn't cut it
That's when they met Meredith Blitzmeyer
Alright, I'm stopping it there, next is Meredith's backstory. Again, don't be afraid to add onto this!
Also, I'm thinking of writing a fanfic about this, so if I did, would anyone be interested in reading it? (I'll most likely write it anyways, but I'm still curious).
#nimona#ballister boldheart#nimona 2023#nimona movie#nimona au#dr meredith blitzmeyer#ambrosius x ballister#goldenheart
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DMC: An Absurd Comedy – “The King’s Game” - Round 1/10
AN: So, I know it’s been a while since I updated (still in the final drafts of the Wrath Followers arc, but as I said in a previous post this is very self-indulgent, and I don’t intend for people to read it but if I feel brave and satisfied enough, I’ll post. This is one of those.)
It takes place about 4-6 arcs down (it’s been a year since the team first started working together) and I just got this idea after watching my friend replay Persona. (I forget which one it is but it’s the one with “The King’s Game”.)
Some forewarning, a couple of my OCs Felix and Abigail (which you meet in Wrath Followers) are toxic and are intended to be for the sake of conflict.
This is also written in my OC Corky’s pov. I didn’t initially start off the series like that (which is why it takes me longer because I might rewrite Arc 2 or maybe actually post Arc 1 which I feel is just a retelling of DMC reboot with the characters switched out) because I realize I am having more fun writing from her POV. It just feels more immersive and easier.
Does contain some NSFW though I think it is relatively tame and harmless.
October 25th, 2015 - 7:21 PM
Devil May Cry shop – Red Grave City
Alright, it’s Closing Time—time to wind down, relax, enjoy that thick, quiet space in the air that hums like a contented cat.
I see Nico reach behind the broken-up couch at the shop, snatching up some bottle from Dante’s hidden trove. “Well, well, look what we have here,” she says, all sly, waving the thing around. “Bet Dante thought he’d keep this for himself. Guess what, suckers? We’re drinkin’ tonight.”
Nero groans softly, “Shouldn’t you save that for a special occasion?” Nico rolls her eyes and slams the bottle down on the table with all the care of a jackhammer. “Oh, come on, Sparda. Wouldn’t kill ya to loosen up a little. Or are ya scared to see how you handle your liquor?”
“You know I don’t drink, Nico.”
Marcus, Morrison’s kid (I say that as if he’s not the same age as me, Nero, and Abbs) practically bouncing in his seat. “But I do! I’m in!”
“C’mon, Nero. You don’t wanna be the only one not joining the party, right?” Abigail’s voice is a sickly kind of sweet, like a rotten peach covered in sugar.
Felix slaps a hand on Nero’s shoulder, “Guess your Sparda blood’s not all it’s cracked up to be, huh?”
Oh boy. Here comes that look—Nero’s “I am ten seconds away from strangling you” glare.
And then, as if Felix’s smug face wasn’t grating enough, Abigail leans in, dangling the glass in front of him like it’s a ticket to some exclusive club. “Don’t be such a bore, Nero. It’s just a drink.”
I don’t know when I became so protective of Nero suddenly. Not that he needs it. Maybe it was what happened last week in the jungle. Out of everyone he was the only one who really stood by me against my old man. And even when he found out about Beelzebub being my grandfather, he didn’t judge or push me.
“Hey, Nero,” I say, trying to break through the tension before he snaps. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. I mean, it’s not like they’re going to keel over if you say no.”
“Corky!” Felix suddenly snaps at me. “What are you doing?”
“What? Felix, you know I don’t like to drink either,” I say, throwing my hands up defensively.
Abigail scoffs, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like we’re asking him to sell his soul. Just to loosen up for once. It wouldn’t kill you either, Corky. A little… lubrication.”
V, quietly observing everything, has somehow drifted closer to the group, and suddenly, all eyes land on him.
“Hey, now there’s a guy who likes to party,” Felix says, nodding at V with a smirk. “Mr. Edgar Allen Poe over here, I didn’t know you drank!”
Nico pauses in her glass hunt behind the bar, grinning as she pops up, her head cocked with surprise.
Griffon fluffs his feathers, smirking down at her. “Please, V here drinks like a classy bird. Ain’t that right, buddy? None of this cheap bar crap; he’s strictly a cabernet guy.”
V gives a polite little nod, as if Griffon’s somehow dead-on. “Even in the roughest spirits, there’s a taste of the earth, a touch of eternity…if one cares to find it.”
Everyone goes silent for a beat. Are we ever going to get used to V’s random musings?
Abigail lets out a pointed laugh, “Come on, Boy Scout,” she goads Nero, “Even V seems to have more balls than you.”
Ouch. That was so uncalled for. Usually, Nero would ignore Abigail or shut her down, but this time it seems to get to him. His jaw tightens as he stares at the bottle that Nico finally opens after some time struggling quietly with it. “Fine. Give me a glass.”
Nico’s face lights up with a grin like she’s just won the lottery. “There we go! The hero steps up! Marcus fetch me a couple more glasses. Corky?” She glances up at me.
I’m not letting that one go unchecked, though. “Hey, Nero,” I say, low enough that only he can hear. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, would you just shut up, Corky?” Abigail’s tone is dripping with that practiced irritation, like she’s dealing with a particularly annoying bug. She seems to reserve that especially for me. Don’t know what I ever did to piss her off.
For the first time I stay silent. Nero’s a grown man, Corky. Why are you all of a sudden so concerned about this?
Nico lines up the shots, counting each one as she fills them. “Seven glasses, one for each of our poor, unfortunate souls,” she says with a smirk, doling them out. V’s shot, though, is… Well, calling it “baby-sized” would be generous. It’s maybe half a sip at most.
Griffon leans over, craning his neck at V’s glass. “Oh, come on, Nico! You trying to insult my guy? He needs a real drink, not this toddler stuff!”
Nico snorts and fills his glass to match the rest. “Alright, alright, don’t get your feathers in a tizzy, I didn’t realize.
She lifts her own glass, glancing at each of us, her smirk broadening. “Alright, how’s Rogerio say it? Salud!”
And there’s a chorus of glasses clinking, like we’re all on the same boat for one ridiculous, fleeting moment. Everyone downs their shots in one swift motion, no hesitation. Well, mostly.
The whiskey’s got that gasoline burn, a throat-searing, gut-punching heat that hits hard and fast. I swallow mine and feel like my insides just did a somersault, all heat and haze rolling around in my stomach. I’ve eaten worse.
Marcus chokes on his, coughing so hard he goes red, wide-eyed, clutching his chest like it’s gonna explode. A bit dramatic.
Abigail just laughs, fixing her fringe. “Oh, rookie move, Morrison. Gotta learn to savor it.”
Nero looks stunned, blinking as if he’s just had a vision of his impending death. He lets out a wheeze, face twisted in mild horror.
“How do people actually… enjoy this?”
Felix claps him on the back, grin wide and wicked. “That’s the spirit, Nero. See, wasn’t so bad, right?”
Meanwhile, V’s reaction is… subdued, but I can tell he’s feeling it by the faint twitch in his brow and the way he almost—almost—winces. Abigail’s eyes gleam, that dangerous little smirk curling up like she’s just gotten an idea too good to ignore. “You know what we need?”
She leans in, eyes narrowed, voice low and dripping with amusement.
“A drinking game.”
“I thought we were gonna play cards?” Nero says with that grumpy deadpan.
“Strip poker?” Abigail asks, innocently, batting her lashes at him.
“No!”
Abigail shrugs, swirling her glass, mischief glinting in her eyes. “You are so boring. You guys always play cards.”
Marcus pipes up, “…Have any of you heard of ‘The King’s Game’?” Now that gets my attention.
“Oh, I know that one,” I say, grinning as the memories creep up. “I haven’t played that since I was… well, a dumbass teenager with questionable friends and too much spare time."
Felix, leaning forward now, has the same mischievous glint. “Me too,” he says, smirk creeping up his face like he’s suddenly a teenager again. “Things got… interesting.”
Nico, ever the chaos-seeker, perks up, leaning closer. “Wait, wait, what’s that?” She looks at Marcus like he’s just revealed the secret to life itself.
Marcus, now relishing his role as the night’s game-master, clears his throat, “Alright, here’s how it works. We get a bunch of sticks or scraps of paper, whatever works. One person’s the ‘King,’ and everyone has to follow their orders for the round, no matter what.”
Nero’s already squinting suspiciously. “And what exactly does the ‘King’ make people do?”
“Anything. Could be simple, could be… risky.”
“Anything?” Abigail asks, clearly already coming up with ideas.
Nico cackles, already on board, waving her drink. “Well, hell! Why didn’t we think of this sooner? Let’s do it! We’ll find out who can actually handle the heat around here.”
Nero groans, shaking his head but looking reluctantly intrigued. “I don’t know… I feel like this is going to end badly.”
“We can go around, see how it goes. If nobody wants to keep playing, they can duck out,” I say speaking to everyone generally.
“Thank you, Mama. Do you want us to come up with a safe word, too?” Abigail scoffs.
Marcus rubs his hands together. “Alright, first thing we need are sticks or slips or something.”
Felix scoffs, pulling a deck of cards from a drawer with a flick of his wrist. “Sticks? We’ve got cards. Here.” He fans them out, selecting a king and grabbing numbers two through seven, tossing them in a small pile on the table. “We shuffle ‘em, splay ‘em, and everyone picks one. Done and done.”
“But wait,” I say, crossing my arms, “aren’t we supposed to pull them one at a time? You know, to make it suspenseful?”
“Oh, please, Corky. We don’t need suspense; we need results.” Abigail says, throwing the cards down in a messy spread on the table, face down.
Marcus looks over the group with a patient, if slightly exasperated, smile. “Actually, quick rule check: you can’t see each other’s cards. When the King gives an order, they don’t do it by name, they do it by number. Makes it more interesting ‘cause you don’t know who you’re daring.”
“Even better,” Nico says, grabbing her drink, “Another round?”
There’s a ripple of mixed reactions—a groan from Nero, an eager “hell yes” from Felix, and a sort of dignified nod from V, who looks ready to endure whatever chaos comes his way with minimal protest.
Nero raises his glass in reluctant solidarity. “Cheers, I guess.”
“Attaboy!” Nico crows, nudging him with her elbow before downing her drink in one go, “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”
Felix grabs the cards, shuffling them with an expert flick of his wrist, that smirk widening. “Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets. Who’s about to embarrass themselves first?”
Griffon cackles from his perch on V’s shoulder. “My money’s on Sparda boy over there. Look at him—guy’s already sweating bullets, and we haven’t even started!”
Nero shoots Griffon a glare that could cut glass. “Fuck off, birdbrain,” Nero mutters, setting his glass down with a decisive thud. “Let’s get this over with.”
We all reach forward, picking a card from the splayed mess on the table, and I hold mine close. I flip it over in my hand: "I'm the King!" I declare, holding up the card for all to see.
Nico lets out a low whistle, grinning at me with that look of “don’t go easy on us now.” Felix raises a brow, smirking. “Alright, King Corky of Beelze, what’s your first royal decree?”
Hm… Something fun to ease everyone in, sure—but we’re here to make people sweat a little, right? And just then, the idea hits me. “I, King Corky of Beelze, command… Number six to eat five spoonfuls of hot sauce.”
Everyone glances around, waiting to see who’s been hit with the fiery gauntlet. Then, slowly, with a look that could kill, Abigail lifts her card, revealing the dreaded number six.
“Hot sauce? Really?”
I shrug, trying to keep a straight face but utterly failing. “You know the rules, Abigail. King’s orders.”
She rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse. “I was expecting something embarrassing, not something that’s gonna burn a hole through my insides,” she gripes, but the challenge flickers in her eyes. She’s too proud to back down, that’s for sure.
Nico’s already up, rummaging around for a bottle, and when she finds it, she lets out a little cheer. “Found it! Dante’s Secret Stash.” She places the bottle in front of Abigail with a grin. “Shoulda known he’d have something lethal lying around.”
Abigail grabs the bottle with a resigned sigh, examining the label like she’s sizing up an opponent in the ring. “Oh there is a cute little picture of a skull and flames on the label,” she mutters, unscrewing the cap. “How lovely.”
“Pretty on brand for you, babe!” Felix says with a wicked grin. She shoots him a look of pure disdain before carefully pouring a spoonful, the dark red liquid shimmering ominously. Without another word, she raises the spoon and downs it. For a second, there’s nothing—just her chewing in exaggerated calm.
Then her eyes widen, and I swear she goes three shades paler before turning a furious red. She chokes slightly, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit,” she croaks, eyes watering as she looks at the bottle like it’s personally offended her ancestors.
Felix howls with laughter, practically banging his fist on the table. “Thought you could handle a little heat, Abby?”
Abigail doesn’t answer, just slams down another spoonful, probably out of pure spite. Her hand shakes a little as she brings it to her mouth, her jaw clenched like she’s about to battle her way through Hell and back.
“Oh, Abby,” I say, my voice all mock sympathy. “Three more to go. I’m surprised you can’t handle the heat, since pyro magic is your specialty and all.”
She glares at me, eyes narrowed, face shiny with sweat. “Fuck you, you fat-ha! Ha!” But she reaches for the spoon again despite the weird breathing noise she is making. Spoon three goes down with a wince, her lips trembling as she tries to maintain even a scrap of dignity.
Nero is biting back a smile. “You’re a trooper, Abigail.”
She swallows hard, barely managing to rasp out, “Glad you are enjoying this, fucker.”
By the fourth spoonful, her face has gone from red to purple, and I’m pretty sure I see actual steam rising off her head. Nico hands her a napkin, looking a mix of impressed and horrified. “Blink twice if you need us to call you an ambulance, sugar.”
Abigail just grabs the napkin and dabs her face, glaring at all of us with watery eyes as she forces down the last spoonful. “There,” she croaks, setting the spoon down with an audible clink. “Satisfied?”
“Immensely,” I say with a grin.
She flips me off, her hands shaking slightly as she reaches for her glass, knocking it back in one go. “Ah! Alcohol was a bad idea!”
“I could have told you that, genius. Let me get you some water,” Nero says, already headed for the kitchen.
"Whose ready for round 2?" Nico asks.
The game continues.
#devil may cry#fanfiction#devil may cry oc#devil may cry ocs#dmc#dmc nero#nero sparda#dmc nico#nicoletta goldstein#dmc v
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Guardian
Well, I never thought I’d find myself writing fanfic, as I’m more of an artist, but here I am. This being my first fic, I think I did alright, and as for the fic itself, I don’t see enough stories of Ib and Garry in more normal scenarios, so I thought I’d do them justice. I might do more stories about them in the future, but for now, I hope my fellow Ib fans enjoy this.
Also, if you're you enjoy the family dynamic between Ib and Garry then check out my Discord server: https://discord.gg/ZkuC7C7y
Summary: An afternoon of fun at the park with Ib and Garry quickly turns awry when Ib's stuffed rabbit suddenly disappears. Update: 8/25/2023 I decided to make a few modifications to my fic. The only really noticeable alterations made was how the beginning plays out, but other than that, I mostly just changed certain paragraphs to describe things better.
A cool breeze flowed through the leaves, accompanied by the gentle warmth of the sun. Flowers bloomed in various colors, and the trees- which had appeared practically lifeless due to the harsh winter- had now grown lush and green. In addition, many creatures were also in motion, from the birds that chirped their tunes to the bees that buzzed about. For many, this was certainly a time to be out and enjoy such a beautiful and lively atmosphere. And a certain nine-year-old girl and a young man, whom she met through rather unusual circumstances at a particular gallery, didn't want to miss out on this opportunity.
Garry had been so busy with his studies and working a few extra hours at his job that he hadn't been able to babysit or visit Ib for the past few weeks. Needless to say, he was relieved to leave such stress behind for the day and spend the Friday afternoon at the park with his young friend once the school day was over.
Ib and Garry spent most of the time strolling along the sidewalk and taking in the surrounding scenery until they eventually came across the playground. Garry had thought that Ib wanted to play with the other kids; however, she turned down the idea. It wasn't that she disliked playing, but the rambunctious and frenzied energy of the children was overwhelming. So they instead opted to rest on one of the nearby benches.
Once the two sat down, Ib reached into her backpack and pulled out a storybook and, surprisingly, a plush rabbit. Ib said that her name was “Mirabella," and it was relatively small compared to the other plushies Garry had seen in the past. And this one, in particular, sported a light pink dress that made it stand out. Ib explained that she had brought Mirabella along because the rabbit had insisted on joining them. While Garry found her claim a bit humorous, he was willing to play along if it meant making her happy. As Ib opened the first page of the illustrated book, she glanced up at Garry and requested that he read it to them. It wasn't the first time he'd read to her, so he was more than glad to do so, as he genuinely enjoyed reading these little tales.
"…But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper." Garry said as he closed the book and chuckled. "I think I did a fine job with my narration. Wouldn't you agree?"
Ib nodded and smiled at him. He then looked down at the stuffed rabbit sitting beside her.
"And did Mirabella like it, too?" he asked, gently patting the stuffed bunny.
"Yeah," Ib said with a hint of laughter.
"Good," he said happily. "My, I'm feeling thirsty after all that walking around from earlier, aren't you?"
Ib's muffled "Uh-huh" prompted Garry to scan the area. "Pretty sure I saw a vending machine around here…" he said as he continued looking before he noticed it a bit off in the distance. "Ah, there it is!" he said, pointing to it.
"You wanna wait here?" he asked.
"Sure," she replied.
"Okay, want any soda or just water?"
"Water's fine."
"Alright, just stay right there, okay? I'll be back in a bit."
She gave him an affirmative nod and smiled as he walked away. Ib turned her attention to the pond a few feet away from her while she waited for him to return, watching the ducks swimming in it, observing them as they occasionally flapped their wings or dived into the water. Her focus slightly adjusted to the ground when she noticed a vivid green frog speeding over the pavement. Ib had never seen one so close; the little creature's bright color held her interest while it hopped around on the sidewalk. Her gaze followed it till it veered off the concrete and into the grass. She couldn't resist rising to see where it was going; when she got too close, it dashed to the pond's edge and disappeared into the water. She felt somewhat let down to see the little guy leave in a hurry, but at least she had something to tell Garry when he returned.
As she turned around to head back to the bench, she suddenly felt her heart skip a beat, now seeing the spot where she and her stuffed friend sat wholly vacant. Panicked, Ib rushed over to it and tried looking under the seat. No luck. She was positive that her plushie had been placed there. She made an effort to search among some of the adjacent trees but came up empty-handed.
"Where could you have gone?" she thought, her worry intensifying gradually.
Shifting her focus to the children still running around in the distance, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to head over to the play area to do a little investigating. It wasn't as if she would be straying too far, and she knew Garry would undoubtedly have a panic attack if she weren't in sight. She just had to look. And she wasn't going to let some brat take something that didn't belong to them. Glancing over, Garry seemed to still be casually standing there, waiting for other people to grab their beverages. With that, she made her way over to the playground.
As she began her search, she first focused on the jungle gym, where most children flocked. She watched carefully as the youngsters raced their way across it, some climbing across the monkey bars by grasping them one at a time, to those that scaled the rock climbing wall and descended from the slide. After a few minutes of careful observation, she realized that none of these kids had what she was looking for.
With only the swing set and sandbox left to check, she looked around once more. However, the results remained the same. Apart from two kids swinging back and forth on the swing set and a toddler playing with their mother in the sandbox, there was no sign of Mirabella anywhere.
With a sigh and her head hanging low, she reluctantly turned back to the bench. Her only option now was to wait for Garry's help; she only hoped whoever took her plush toy was still nearby and hadn't run off with it.
Just as she was about to sit back down, she caught a glimpse of a much taller figure in the distance, obscured by the trees, with something white dangling from their hand. Not a second later, Ib sprinted at the sight, and as she drew nearer, the unmistakable shape of her stuffed animal came into view.
"Wait!" She shouted.
The young man stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice and turned to face her. Once Ib made it towards him, she was panting heavily, but seeing Mirabella in sight brought her relief.
"Uh, what do you want?" he asked, irritated.
Looking up at him, Ib suddenly found herself unable to speak. The teen appeared anything but friendly, from his ripped and ragged attire to the slight scowl he gave her, was enough for her to realize that this probably wasn't going to go as well as she had hoped. All she could do now was look for words that wouldn't irritate him any further.
"Well, what is it?" he asked once more.
"U-um," she stuttered, "t-that bunny is mine..."
He glanced down at the doll and scoffed. "This is yours? You still play with wittle bunny dolls?" he said, sneering at Ib.
Ib looked down at her feet in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks. Although this wasn't the first time she'd been criticized for still playing with toys at the age of nine, she didn't understand what the harm was. It didn't mean she was immature; if anything, she was very well-behaved compared to most her age.
"Tell you what, I'll give it back… after I have a little fun with it." he said with a smirk.
Ib did not like the sound of that, as he placed one hand on top of the toy's head with the other on its torso, giving it a slight tug. The very thought of what he was going to do next made Ib feel increasingly anxious, sending her heart pounding at an accelerated pace.
"You see, kid, I take any opportunity I get to grab whatever I want, and when I do, I like to... make improvements."
Now she knew for certain what he was planning.
"N-no!" Ib cried.
"You want it so badly? Come get it!" With a sudden yank, the plush toy was torn in two, its stuffing quickly descending to the ground, followed by its head and torso. Such a terrible sight made Ib fall to her knees in shock. Time seemed to stand still as she stared at the pieces of her beloved toy. Before she knew it, she felt a stream of tears sliding down her cheeks as she started sobbing quietly. The teen's laughter at the sight of her misery was audible, and she could tell this very much amused him. Why he decided to act so cruelly toward her was beyond her understanding.
To Ib, this wasn't just any stuffed toy; it meant so much more to her. For as many bunnies as she owned (gifted mainly by her father), she treated them with the same level of care as if they were her real friends, even giving each of them a name. Throughout her young life, she struggled to form bonds with other kids, so those stuffed friends of hers were all that she had to fill that emptiness. And now she sat in utter despair at the sight of one of them destroyed.
As she continued crying, the laughter came to an abrupt stop. A familiar voice called out her name, followed by footsteps charging in her direction and the teen's aggravated shouts. Blinking through her teary vision, she could make out a figure wearing a dark blue coat as he confronted the person she presumed to be the same one who destroyed her doll. The angry exchanges between them rang in her ears, escalating from verbal conflict to a full-on fight within moments. Wiping her tears away, she saw that her suspicions were correct.
"Garry!"
Garry glanced down at her, only to be struck in the face by his opponent’s fist, sending him back a few steps. He barely had a moment to react before he was met with a second punch to his stomach. The vicious blow forced Garry to his knees, gasping for breath. As he sat there clutching his abdomen, Garry's head was yanked up by his hair, and as a final assault, he felt a knee smash into his face from his attacker. Ib watched in horror as her friend helplessly lay there writhing in agony. She desperately wanted to help him, but her fears prevented her from moving even a single muscle.
The enraged teen made a sudden turn to face her, rage visible in his eyes. "You.. .you knew he'd come, didn't you?" he snarled.
Ib shook her head frantically, "No! I didn't-"
"Liar!" he spat. "Looks like you need to be taught a lesson too."
He began to advance towards Ib, his intent clear in his eyes. Ib instinctively took a few steps back as he drew nearer, only to trip over a stray root. In an instant, his hand clamped onto her collar, hoisting her from the ground and pinning her against a tree, causing her to yelp. Ib's eyes widened as she found herself face-to-face with him. While she didn't dare speak, her eyes begged him for mercy, but she could see nothing but the desire to harm her. Now that they were isolated from others, she knew that nobody would come to her rescue.
As she closed her eyes tightly and turned her head away to brace herself for the inevitable pain, she suddenly felt the man's hold on her quickly release, making her land hard on the ground. When she opened her eyes, she saw Garry grappling with her attacker as he promptly pushed him flat on his back. Instantly, Garry's fist connected with his face. He clearly hit the teen pretty hard as he cried out in pain, but was soon cut off as Garry delivered another strike to him. The next thing Ib knew, Garry's fists were a blur as he mercilessly pounded the man’s face. She sat there in shock and disbelief as she watched him; she had seen him angry before, but this... this wasn't like him at all. For once, she felt frightened of Garry, the same person who had always seemed so kind and gentle. It made her question for a moment if this were the same person she had grown close to in the few months they'd known each other.
"G-Garry…?" Ib said faintly.
Garry showed no sign of stopping. With each blow he landed, his fists grew increasingly stained with red, and Ib dreaded the thought of what might happen if she let this go on. Even if it was all out of a desire to protect her, the man seemed to have given up attempting to shield himself as Garry continued to pummel him. She knew she had to intervene somehow.
Taking a deep breath, she managed to muster enough strength to shout, "Garry, stop!"
Garry turned to Ib as he was about to raise his fist once more. Seeing how distressed she was, he snapped back to reality and slowly lowered his arm. As he sat over the young man, panting, he saw the amount of damage he had done to his face and felt somewhat regretful for his actions. With a sigh, he grabbed him by his shirt and glared directly at him.
"If I ever see you near Ib again, you'll be sorry," he said, shoving the man back to the ground and proceeding to get up.
Not a second later, the teen quickly got to his feet and staggered off. All the while, Garry stood there and watched, making sure that monster was as far away from them as possible. Once he could no longer see him, he turned to Ib. She was still a bit shaken up by his actions from earlier, making him feel worse than he already did.
"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," he said, feeling too ashamed to look at her. "I… I was just so worried about him hurting you; I just lost it…"
Ib's expression softened. Despite how he had acted out earlier, she couldn't blame him entirely for it. She knew how protective he could be sometimes. However, part of her wondered if he had been in conflicts like this before, but she didn't dare ask as it wasn't her business to know.
Looking at the crimson droplet slowly trickling down from Garry's nose, Ib felt an immediate rush of guilt. Realizing all of this was because of her absent-mindedness. She had always been taught by her mother to take care of her things, and now, the one time she forgets, she and her friend were put in danger.
"It's my fault..." she muttered.
This took Garry aback. "Wha? Ib, you didn't-"
"I got distracted and left Mirabella behind, and he took her," She interrupted, tears growing in her eyes once more.
"I'm sorry, Garry..."
Garry knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself. I know you didn't mean for this to happen." He lifted her head by her chin to face her. "Look, you just gotta keep an eye on your stuff next time. Okay?" Ib nodded and brushed her tears away, followed by a hug from Garry, hoping to put her at ease.
Once Ib had finally relaxed, Garry stood up and picked up the two halves of her doll. "I think I can sew her back up," he said as he examined it closely.
"Really?" Ib asked as her eyes lit up.
"Yeah, I think I have enough thread to do so. And I'll be sure to give her back once she's fixed."
Hearing that gave her a sense of comfort. Provided Garry had fulfilled his promise to return her handkerchief a few months before, she was confident he'd also go through with this.
"For now, why don't we grab some macarons?" Garry said with a smile and wrapped an arm around Ib. "You've had a rough day; you deserve something nice."
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a new beginning,
PLANET 1: 08/08/2023
hello!
so this is my first ever tumblr post. i suppose i'm a little late to the party but when i saw that you could create blogs here, i knew i had to give it a go. i want to try and make some form of journal/diary and update on my life and experiences for people to read. it might be a little personal and cringe, but if it's something i end up enjoying, then i'm happy!
life at the moment is a bit messy. in the next month, i'll go going to university and leaving my family for the first time. don't get me wrong, i am extremely excited to go and the amount of stuff i'll learn/do and the friends i'll meet will make it all worth it, but that doesn't stop the constant worry. i adore my family and to leave them is so heartbreaking. especially since i won't be able to visit as often, the fear of missing out (also known as fomo) on important things in their lives, etc. since my dad is not in the picture and my sister has her own household, it also means my mum will be alone which makes me so upset. we do have a pet bird however (who i sadly can't take with me) to keep her company! so that brings me a little bit of peace. this is just the tip of the iceberg of worries and thoughts.
i'm sure in a few months, i'll come back and reread this with a smile, knowing that everything went okay. that's what i hope, anyway. i'm pretty sure every single person going to university has some, if not the same worries, so i'm trying not to let it get to me. in fact, i'm kinda blocking out thinking about it too much, something i've come to realize that i tend to do a lot.
a little fun fact, i used to have a wattpad book named planet lesley but i ended up taking it down because i wanted my wattpad to be for my more creative works. it was basically a rant diary - much like what this may become - where i focused on aspects of my life that i could delve into and explain, whether that was for the better or for the worse. i might repost some of the chapters here instead, so they don't get lost in my archived wattpad stories.
anyways, i'm going to end this here for now and keep it short as this is just a little experiment. i hope if anyone reads this, you're having a wonderful day ♡
WORD OF THE DAY: eucatastrophe a sudden and favourable resolution of events in a story; a happy ending.
SONG OF THE DAY: Moonlight - Kali Uchis
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Update.
First, I just want to thank everybody, I didn't want to re-blog an answer each individual post because; I don't wanna spam people?
So very quickly:
Thanks to @frozenwolftemplar cause your always so gentle with your words and the (like that festival with the sculptures that go 🔥🔥🔥) got me laughing. Also, I'd love to see more fics in different styles? I love when writers experiment! (same for any artists, I get so excited when an artist I follow tried out a new medium!)
Thanks to @nyleeu-e especially cause, knowing you also went through like, going into tumblr not logged in (might of misunderstood that) and found out the same thing brings my social anxiety down a lot. Cause... I just start overanalising soooo fast and end up thinking the worst, but I love your blog, there's nothing problematic going on? So I guess that kinda reinforces what a lot of people have said about it being a tts thing.
And @batata-doce-com-farofa of course thanks for the king words and yeah, the tags, a lot of people have suggested it's along those lines.
I'm not sure if in the past I've been very lucky to be in chills fandoms. I've been extremely ignorant to drama that was happening. Or times have just changed and in the time I was in uni unable to really be in a fandom interacting the way I am now, I was caught off guard by this change...
A friend also reminded me on the phone about how I use a 'mute' feature, so I don't block people unless it's absolutely necessary, I just have a feature which stops posts showing on my dashboard and stuff. And I do this mainly because, I may not like a certain ship or dynamic but that doesn't mean I won't enjoy other content from people? Also, I don't know if that person is reading a fic of mine on ao3 and there going to one day try to reach out on tumblr and find out their blocked and a have panic attack...
And saying that, I realize the fact my mind goes over this whole thought process as to why not to block someone, probably say a lot about my own socialy anxiety.
I think as well this hit me hard because I did a post a while back being like 'I have this paranoid feeling I'm invading the tts fandom space', and this felt like tumblr screaming that paranoia was correct...
That and there were a few people who's fanfics I interact with on ao3 who had me blocked... So... That's fun.
Plus, I've actually had a few hateful anon asks recently that I've been ignoring and kinda hoping/assuming it's all one single person... But there's always that bit in your brain that says 'what if it's a bunch of people!' But I have had A LOT more positive anonymous asks in my inbox (plus I value shy people and I think people who don't have a tumblr account can only ask anonymously so I wanna leave them on for fic readers who aren't on tumblr?)
Rambling, sorry.
I reached out today to my doctor and I'm going to get an 'emergency' meeting to get my anxiety meds checked cause... Something's not working. I've also been pulled aside by another doctor over weight loss the other day so, maybe that's something to do with my anxiety? (It'd be kinda nice if it was, like, two stones one bird?)
I should probably fully step away from the internet but, cause I work from home and my friends live 2 hours away... Tumblr, fandom, it all kinda becomes my social interaction between friend visits? Like, I'm an introvert but, it's nice to not be completely alone. I'ts hard to say if the internet does more or less for mental health some days...
I'll definitely be a bit less active on here while I reign in my anxiety.
None of this will affect Ao3, I am always like 40 days ahead of schedule!
I'll probably just log into Tumblr when I'm going to post something (like if I finish an animation, probably won't be doing all the works in progress stuff...) but if anybody wants to chat just pm me and I'll sell you my discord, that's on my phone so that notified me even when I'm not logging into tumblr!
I also have some anon asks in my inbox to do with animation suggestions, I've seen them! Except for one they're all great ideas I'd love to get around to! It just takes time I'm afraid, but I promise they've been received.
So yeah...
Huge thanks for all the kind words.
I think I'm going to go take a nap.
So I just made a huge mistake because... I was browsing tumblr from my ipad and didn't realize I wasn't on my usual account, and I was on the tangled the series tab and there was soooooo much content!
I was thrilled and then I realized...
It's not that there was a lot of content today.
It's that half the fandom seems to have me blocked.
And I don't know which fandoms rules I've broken to earn my exile...
But yeah.
I'm feeling.... Honestly, extremely, extremely unwell right now.
Like... I don't know what I'm going to do.
My instinct is delete tumblr, NEVER EVER EVER comment on a fic ever again because that's the only negative interactions I've had... And just.... Disappear off of tumblr (not ao3, I don't think my fanfics are the drama and I'm too deep into that rabbit hole)....
But obviously I'm writing this literally as I am made aware....
I'm just feeling extremely shitty right now.
And as though all my social anxiety is correct and most people hate me and.... Yeah.
I think I'm going to just go make a tea and watch some cartoons.
I wish I knew what I did...
I feel like I mostly just post animations and jokes and... I try to interact with the community but maybe I shouldn't have tried to interact.
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Jack harlow masterlist
© writing by Iguessweallcrazyithinktho do not steal or repost any of my content anywhere without my consent • main masterlist pinned •
Look under my tag jack thots for concepts!
Last updated June 16th | 94 fics || 🔥 means personal favorite
Off the market • Jack Harlow where he’s in an interview, and the interview asks if he’s single? And he has a simple response, like “I’m happy.”
🔥Quickie • No explanation needed ~ smut
🔥Aftercare • 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠, ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ~ smut
Little Harlow • just a headcannon on dad jack and your daughter being his mini me
My girlfriend a nurse • SUMMARY: Can u do one where he is dating a nurse? And he mentions that in a interview. Or in the red carpet and he brought YN as his date and they are all touchy and YN gets shy when he talks about her
Catching feelings • SUMMARY: jack request where they’re fwb but he definitely caught feelings and very open about it but the reader is kind of having a difficult time to do the same since she’s scared that it might not work something like that and lose their bond 🙃
🔥Protective jack • SUMMARY: Can you do a Jack Harlow imagine where possibly your ex comes to a party you are both at and Jack is just really jealous and protective? Maybe some drama in between too for some spice loool Pleaseeee
Believe me • SUMMARY: jack thinks you like Urban, but that's far from the truth
I thought I hated you • SUMMARY: since high school jack has hated you. Despite being clay's friend he always found a way to pick on you and make you feel like shit. Now that he's older and mature he realized he did you wrong only because he was trying to hide his feelings
Challenge • teasing each other until one of you get sexually frustrated and fail the challenge ~ smut
Dilf • Dilf jack fucking his daughter’s best friend during a house party or sleepover 😩😍 ~ smut
Mile high club • What about Jack and his gf joining the mile high club pls ~ smut
🔥Hrs and hrs • SUMMARY: for your 2 anniversary Jack takes you to a resort. He makes your weekend Very meaningful and eventful ~ smut
Little • “He/She’s so tiny.”....
I love you • accidentally saying “i love you” too early, but the other pulls them in for a kiss and says it back.
Flowers for you • seeing you happy is all that matters.....
Hot • “I never thought I’d hear you say that, fuck, that’s hot.”.... ~ smut
In the middle of the night • “where should i fuck you? your choice.”..... ~ smut
Lines • Wait can you do a concept where Jack falls in love on with his (black) costar on set? 👀 it'd be so cute where they're reciting their lines as they film but then he starts stuttering and forgets because he thinks she's so pretty or when they kiss he forgets his lines afterwards 😭❤
Morning • Also maybe write a fanfic where he is taking care of his daughter/son when they are a newborn
New balance • dad jack getting matching fits & new balances for his girl & baby then having urban take little family pics for them 🥺
Early baby • SUMMARY: Jack is racing through traffic from the studio to get to the to the hospital where reader is in time to be there when their first child is born.
Early birds • Jack and you enjoying an early Saturday morning before the kids get up in a few hours, sleepy jack + soft sex with the sunrise peeking in 🥺🥰 ~ smut
Victoria secret model • SUMMARY: Jack having a day with the reader in Victoria secret he’s bored so she decideds to put on a show for him it gets really steamy In that little fitting room🤭🤭🤭 even a worker asks her if she’s okay
Sheigo • Girlie can u write something about reader dressing like sheigo cosplay and jack losing his shit
Funny seeing you here • SUMMARY: jack & reader had history, reader wasn’t well know back then but is currently coming up (actress?) then at like a event they see each other for the first in a while. & some of jack’s song are about their relationship, like ‘funny seeing you here’.
Scraped knee • Dad jack and you are in the living room working on your things, Jack working on some songs while you scroll through your phone. You both hear a loud whimper sound and when you walk out of the living room in a hurry to see your kid crying on the floor indicating that the kid had fallen and Jack just hating his kid crying so he picks them and holds them close to his chest as the kid cries
🔥Baby mama • SUMMARY: Can u do something Jack and reader have a child or children together and they split for a while.... jack gets a new gf and she's obviously jealous of the coparenting relationship jack and the reader have for their chil/children and says something slick about it and comes at reader sideways and jack ends up defending the reader obviously because she's the mother of his child/children and hes still got love for her, and the girlfriend ends up getting pissed off because jack defended the mother of his child? And then reader thanks him for sticking up for her and old feelings get brought up? Sorry I can't help but thing about how much respect/love jack would have for the woman that has his children😩
Do you love me • SUMMARY: If you’re taking requests for Jack: Jack and y/n have been dating for over a year but she’s not very good at admitting her emotions so they end up getting into an argument because Jack doesn’t think that she is serious about him so she goes and gets a tattoo of his initial on her ring finger to prove that she permanently wants him in her life and he gets emotional about it.
Pregnant on tour • SUMMARY: Jack request: Jack and the reader have talked about having a baby for a long time but they could never get the timing correct, so you finally decide that you’re going to get pregnant in the middle of a tour so that way when it’s over with can safely have your baby. So like a fic where you’re like three or four months pregnant on tour and everybody takes care of you. Jack is really worried about your morning sickness and stuff like that.
Short series:
SUMMARY: when jack wants to get away from his main girl, he comes to you to relieve his stress
Side piece part one
Side piece part two
Side piece part three
Falling • Hiii, I wanted to request something for the jack Harlow series. Where Jack, Rosie and you go to picnic and as you guys get there rosie runs to find your guys favorite tree and rosie plays around while you and Jack talk after awhile you both hear a cry as rosie comes and hugs jack hiding her face in his chest and when you ask her what's wrong she whimper saying she had gotten hurt and Jack goes all dad mode. Sorry if this is long and confusing ❤️
You're not pregnant are you • SUMMARY: Okay I have a request for Jack where his girl has an IUD that she got before she met him and when they started dating and having sex, she didn’t tell him about it bc she knew he was insistent on wearing protection bc he didn’t wanna have a kid yet and she didn’t want to make him feel like she was lying to trick him and she also knew he got around a lot so she was fine wearing protection for std reasons but over time she forgot to tell him and one day his friends are over and Neelam or urban’s gf ask Jack if they had any pads or tampons bc she started and he realized that since she’s been living with him he hasn’t seen her get her period and he panics thinking he got her pregnant🤣 I know this is very specific but I have an IUD and just thought about this scenario in my head and I can’t stop laughing about how panicked he would be 🤣
Mother's day • A little blurb of Rosie on mother's day?
Poison • SUMMARY: jack always had a thing for you ever since he met you through a friend . He craved being around you and having your attention. It's gotten to the point where you were all he ever thought about. He knew he had to get you.
Silent treatment • concept idea: reader and jack are early in their relationship (1-2 months) and nobody likes her, i’m talking neelam, urb, 2fo, etc. or they just leave her out of conversations and events and jack obviously takes her but they whisk him away and she feels left out. it’s not that she did anything bad they just don’t even have a valid reason for not liking her. then he finds her crying one night and then confronts them about it and they start to actually bond with her and like not just for jack’s sake but because she is actually fun and nice they just never took the time to realize (that was long LMAO)
Mistakes were made • I have a mini harlow request, where they are at a restaurant and reader orders something with ranch but rosie thinks it's something sweet and she asks to try it at which reader tells her that Rosie doesn't like it but Rosie asks again at which reader gives in and let her try it only for her to make a face and spitting it out while reader and Jack try to hide their laughs. (Mini Harlow)
Manifestation • Could you write a story about Jack dating a spiritual/witch girlie? 🧘🏽♀️ I know that Jack believes in manifestation but imagine she'll teach him what the crystals his fans give him mean, he feels better when she sages the house, or he just finds her so fascinating (her beauty, her vibe, and her beliefs) 🤍
🔥Kentucky derby • Can you write something where the reader is 6 months pregnant at the Ketucky Derby. Jack is very protective. And Jack also wants to show your baby bump to the crowd. Your shy, but you'll do it for Jack. Can also add Drake being protective also.
Vibrating panties • do a fic about jack having one of the remote controlled vibrators and he teased y/n out in public with it?
Miscarriage • SUMMARY. i saw that soemone requested a misscarriage fic so heres my idea. you were at jacks parents house. and everyone was out. so jack was out at the studio with neelam and urban. jack urban and neelam were talking outside. maggie gets there and goes inside. youre like 16 ish weeks along. maggie finds you on the floor bleeding a lot and yells for jack. he comes in and just fully freezes up and cant move and is just crying. and maggie and urban and neelam are trying to help you. but youre basically out of consiousness but keep saying softly something like, jack everythings ok love. thats kind the end of my idea.
Strawberry patch • SUMMARY. Ok jack taking Rosie to the strawberry patch. She's wearing her little strawberry overall like strawberry shortcake and she's wearing a bucket hat uncle urban got her!! Love you<3 (mini Harlow)
Face mask • Jack putting a face mask on his girl who sitting on the sink?
Uwban • The baby saying urban instead or mummy or daddy!!
Family • Please write something where your baby is crying and you and Jack comfort them together
The couch • A blurb request. Jack getting home late and finding you sleeping on the couch
We don't sing that • We're on dad jacks train I see. How about jack catching his daughter seeing one of his songs
Breakfast • Jack waking you up in between your legs 🤗 smut
Be my forever • can we get a lil blurb of jack proposing to reader?🥺
Clothing shopping • Reader getting insecure while shopping for clothes with Jack and he's there to pick her up x
Needles • Okay this is a silly thing but I always faint when i get my blood taken cause my body just shuts off so maybe you could write something about that like Jack being an absolute angel through it cause lately I had to go to the hospital a lot for that but if you don't want to please don't 🧡
The sickies • Rosie getting sick With a fever and start throwing up. JACK takes care of them because you're out but she's dying to see you
She's the one • What about like Jack's fam not really being sure if you're the one but you two stay over at there's and they like overhear you two laughing together cause Jack is like tickling you or something
Dates • request! Getting lost in IKEA date and target date
Hentai • SUMMARY. You and Jack are filming for white man can't jump. You both hit it off and flirt like crazy with each other. One night when you both are supposed to be reading your script you decide to act out the sex scene which leads to more.
I got you • Can you make a lil fic of the reader and Jack just having their second child but the reader is going through postpartum depression. Maybe something with the reader reaching a breaking point and freaking out at Jack and their child but instead of being an ass Jack is a supporting husband and helps.
In the song • OMG I'm sooo in love with Little Harlow! Can I please request one where Jack uses her voice or voice-mail in the song, so when he plays it for her reaction is funny, but she is all happy and screaming "that's me, that's me"!! Thank you
She's just a baby • How about you all are getting ready for the beach but jack sees Rosie wearing a two piece and goes all dad mood about it lol
Sister bond • How about Rosie and a few week old clementine bonding. Maybe Rosie always wants to hold her and she points out her little smiles and stuff ❤️❤️❤️
I'll teach you • SUMMARY. “Jack teaches the reader how to properly finger herself After she can't orgasm” ✨SMUT✨
Lovers to strangers • can you just a jack harlow fan fic where he cheats on his gf and she finds out i want lots of ANGST
9 months • Can you do a fanfic where it’s shows that jack is wit the reader though out the whole pregnancy and the birth too
What did you say • Mmmmh reader and Jack get in a fight and Jack accidentally calls reader a different name
🔥Introvert • jack and yn spend the whole day out together but she's an introvert so when they get home she wants alone time and he gets in his feels cus he can never get enough of his girl. clingy jack pls
A little crush • Reader and Jacks toddler having a little crush on one of the other guys. I can see Jack being so salty about it
On set • Hi I heard you were requesting blurbs? Can you do one with a black!reader who’s an actress that Jack has a crush on.
Childhood crush • What about one where Jack is jealous about the reader’s childhood crush on Drake?
My girl • Hi :) I'm a sucker for cute shiii so was wondering if I can get a fluffy Jack scenario where you're sitting on his lap and you're just keep complimenting him and calling him cute and stuff while you're cupping his face sksksksk
Home • “Jack comes back from tour”
🔥On cloud nine • Ok but can you write this but with jack 🥲that was literally the sweetest think I’ve ever read
Not the right time • I sent in the ask halfway complete, I was going to do a request too, would you do a leaving him at the altar one but not because they fall out of love just like sadness or something happened?
Up in the sky • In honour of Urbs insta story, can we have mile high club smut with either Jack or Urb pls
The ways Jack touches you:
What's it like sharing a bed • Can you write something about what it's like to share a bed with Jack, like maybe he can't sleep without touching and he always has a hand on you even in his sleep
Mrs. Harlow • Hello! I hope your day has been great! 💜 I was wondering if you could write a fic of Jack and reader getting married? If not, that’s okay! 😊
🔥Sundress season • Summary: “Jack fucks you in a sundress after your teasing”
Be who you • Can you do a imagine where Jack shows support to his gf who's bisexual for pride month and makes a tiktok where him and urban sing to the reader "Be who you areeee, for your priiiiide!!!" Lmao 💀 happy pride everyone btw! 🌈💖
That boyfriend • Jack being protective and attentive without even knowing he is or thinking twice about it like always walking on the outside of the curb or sees you struggling to open a bottle and he just takes it from your hand and opens it no questions asked and holding you close when you walk through big crowds especially at his concerts
Pretty mama • Can u do one where reader gets insecure about her body after giving birth to the new baby and Rosie hears her talking bad about herself so Rosie tries to cheer her up?
IG live • I just want more jack and y/n on IG live interacting with fans and each other🙄
Skydiving • Jack and reader go skydiving but he pranks her making the pilot seem like the plane is going down reader is scared of heights and planes and gets anxiety do to them and jack convinced her to go with him beside her fear -🌊
Beach break • Summary: Jack inviting the reader on vacation with him and he can't keep his eyes off her(childhood friends)
Different kind father's day
Two!? • Jack and reader go to the ultrasound sound for there first child but they discover they are having twins do to readers genes on her fathers side and they are both boys though it would be funny considering jack wants girls
Everything changed • 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Reader admits to jack that she never wanted to have kids until she met him and thats when everything changed for her as she didn’t want to put her kid with what she went through cause her dad only came around when he needed her and she didn’t want to talk to him every again when she had turn 17 and she knows that jack would never do that with his child and her
The ways/reasons jack kisses you
There's someone else • 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄
Gentle • hii idk if u take requests but i wanted to ask u if u are open to writing abt like reader and jack have sex for the first time after she gave birth and he is like super gentle and sweet with her cuz she is scared it will hurt? :)
B.E.T awards
So about those eight daughters • Jack talking about what reader thinks of them having 8 daughters on a podcast
Sit down, relax • Summary: after a long day of taking care of your kids jack ask you to sit down. You were very surprised when he told you where
Biggest supporter • Rosie’s first dance recital and jack being like the mom from mean girls lol
A titty • Rosie getting her first pet(can be any animal)
What are we? • If you’re taking requests/concepts can I request where Jack & reader are on the talking/dating stage. But she gets word of the rumor going around about him and Lori? (Too soon? Someone else then??) reader confronts him and they get into a huge argument??? Ion something around that lol. Thank you in advance & again thank you incase you’re not taking these kind of requests ❤️❤️
The lies within us • the reader finds out Jack's cheating while she's pregnant with their child
What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen • you and Jack decided to bake some brownies. It doesn't go well seeing how you both were baked yourselves
First show • insta au
First show • Rosie's first show with Jack. She's her daddies biggest fan
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Unfamiliar (Ch. 13)
Ch. 13 - Equinox ☆ Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic
First two chapters ☆ Previous (Ch.12)
♥ Artwork by @mmm-asbestos ♥
(Left some notes at the end in regards to the updating the fic)
Ch. 13: Equinox
As her coffee brewed, Amy set out two home-baked muffins for breakfast, adding a small bowl of fruit to share. Sonic had plopped himself on the couch the moment they walked through the door and she’d offered to share some breakfast as long as he was there. Now, as she poured them each a hot mug and called him over to eat, she received no response. Amy peeked ahead into the living room to find Sonic fast asleep on her sofa. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. But he hadn’t slept all night, which worried her, so she thought it best to let him lie there a while. She didn’t have anywhere to be until past noon, anyway..
Amy stepped outside to enjoy breakfast on her back porch so as not to disturb her snoozing friend. She looked up at the clear sky and wondered vaguely why Metal hadn’t yet returned. The main issue on her mind, however, was the conversation she’d had with Sonic on the way home. She couldn’t remember a time when he was so high strung- not that he would ever let on. But Amy could feel the anxiety in his dialogue and body language as he seemed to get ahead of himself, frequently outpacing her and hardly taking a breath between words. It was ironic, asking him to slow down; but he’d wanted to walk, after all. So he would apologize, take a breath, and continue speaking until he steadily got too quick to keep up with again. It was making Amy tense.
They discussed what they thought Eggman could be up to. Mostly, Sonic shared a dozen increasingly dubious theories until Amy finally managed to get a word in. “Why don’t we just ask Eggman?” she suggested.
“And you’re calling my ideas crazy,” he chuckled in response. “You think he’ll just tell us? What if he traps us?”
“He’s avoiding trouble for now. Maybe we can sniff something out even if he doesn’t tell us the truth.”
Sonic pondered on it for a moment before snapping his fingers. “I bet we can get him to lead us to his real base. Then we can plant one of Tails’ data reader things on his computer.”
Amy nodded. “That might actually work. And Eggman’s not exactly the hands-off type, I bet we’ll find him at the construction site at some point.”
“Let’s ask around,” Sonic nodded, before proudly adding “Pretty good idea, Ames.”
She giggled back at him humbly, somewhat flushed over the compliment. They agreed to work out the details the next day as Amy still had to get ready for the festival. Sonic looked surprised. “That’s today? Is that why you were up that hill?”
“Yeah, I was doing this silly ritual,” Amy replied as indifferently as possible. “You really didn’t know? How’d you find me?”
It was Sonic’s turn to look sheepish. “When you weren’t home, I kinda just ran around the valley looking for you. I know you’re an early bird and all…”
“Not that early. Well, not usually,” Amy laughed. It was a shame, though; she thought Sonic had at least remembered that she’d told him about the equinox and perhaps had some clue of where she would be.
With that, Sonic offered to carry her the rest of the way home in his usual impatient manner. Once there, he sleepily asked for a cup of coffee but was out like a light before he could drink it. It had been ages since Sonic crashed at Amy’s house. Normally, she enjoyed his company in the morning, but it felt awkward now that she no longer lived alone. Staring off into the sparkling sea, Amy sipped from her mug absently and tried not to think about how much her feet ached from the downhill hike in her questionable footwear.
The familiar electric buzz of Metal’s engine could be heard above. Shielding her eyes as she looked to the sky, Amy waved him down to join her. “Hey Metal. Wanna sit?” she called out as he landed. He was headed for the back door when she continued, “Wait! Sonic’s napping! Let’s hang out here so we don’t wake him.” Metal marched over incredulously and sunk into the seat with crossed arms. Amy pouted back at him. “You okay?”
He looked ahead into the ocean with a slight shrug. The interruption earlier had left him irritable. What’s more, he had questions and wanted to get something to write with, but Sonic was somehow getting in the way of that, too.
“Don’t be so grumpy,” she chuckled. When he refused to acknowledge her, Amy scooted her chair closer to him. “Come on, it’s such a nice day,” she sighed, resting her head gingerly on his shoulder.
It caught him off guard and Metal stiffened at her touch, stifling his whirring turbine in the hopes Amy wouldn’t notice. If she did, she made no mention of it, only continuing to lean on him gently. “Maybe I’ll take one later, too,” she yawned. Metal relaxed his body gradually and turned his head in her direction.
He wanted to bring up what she had begun to tell him that morning, but he wouldn’t push Amy in her groggy state. Her heart rate had been decreasing steadily and her eyelids fluttered as she rubbed her arms against the cool breeze. He would have let her sleep if he thought she’d be comfortable, but he recognized his exceedingly firm shoulder wasn’t much of a pillow. Before Amy could fall asleep completely, he rose, picking her up in his arms. The sudden movement surprised her, but she was too tired to complain. Even growing used to his care, however, Amy couldn’t keep herself from becoming at least a little red-faced when she was met with such tenderness. She hid her face away and her words came out muffled. “Are we going inside?” He nodded as he made his way toward the back door. “Don’t wake Sonic…” Metal was glad she couldn’t see him rolling his eyes. Fair enough; he could be quiet if he wanted to.
Sliding the door open slowly, Metal tiptoed across the house into the bedroom, somehow keeping from expressing his displeasure as he passed Sonic snoozing on the couch. Amy smiled affectionately as he lowered her onto her bed. “So warm!” she kicked off her sandals and buried herself under the sheets immediately. “Thanks for taking me everywhere,” she murmured. “I hope it’s not too much trouble…”
Metal took a seat on the floor at her bedside, leaning on the nightstand and waving a hand flippantly; as if carrying such a lightweight would be cumbersome to him. Besides, he felt it was the least he could do, but opted not to start a dialogue with her while she tried to rest. It was almost 9:00 AM when she was asleep, and Metal set his alarm for 11:00. He needed to recharge as well, so he went idle, thinking it best to conserve what energy he had until he reached Tails later. He expected to come back online just before 11:00- but a voice awoke him about half an hour earlier than that.
“Amy, you here?” Sonic called from the other room. Metal shot up and past her doorway to address him. “Oh, Metal. Where’s Amy?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. Metal held a finger up to his own face as if to shush him.
Having Metal scold him for making noise in his friend’s home was surreal, but Sonic couldn’t deny how strangely pleasant it was to know Metal was taking care of Amy, just as she’d done for him. It didn’t mean he’d let his guard down, however.
He stretched silently under Metal’s unblinking gaze. The breakfast Amy had set out earlier caught his eye, so Sonic snatched up the muffin as he headed out the back. “Gotta get going. Tell Amy thanks for me,” he mumbled. Metal followed him, determined to shut the door quietly himself. Halfway out, Sonic paused and turned back to him. “Got a question. Are you gonna stick around? Since you and Amy keep looking out for each other...”
Metal’s eyes darted before settling downward, looking bitterly toward the ground. He had no answer.
“Hmph. Well, think about it.” Sonic took a bite of his breakfast and gave a wave of his hand before darting off. Metal softly slid the door closed after him.
Think about it. All Metal ever did was think about it, but there were questions that needed answering. He intended to ask Amy to continue her story later, and the sooner the day went by, the sooner, he hoped, there would be answers. It was 23 minutes before the alarm went off. Then Amy would get ready. Then he would take her to her event. Then he’d see Tails. And then-
“Did Sonic leave?” Amy murmured sleepily. He turned to find her leaning on the bedroom doorway, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
How dejected she looked. Sonic left without a thank you or a goodbye even after Amy dropped what she was doing to attend to him. She’d done it without hesitation. What’s more, she inconvenienced herself to keep the house quiet and he couldn’t be bothered to do the same. Metal felt aggrieved on her behalf- he knew the importance that morning’s ritual had for Amy, didn’t Sonic? Weren’t they friends? All Metal could do was nod back at her.
She rested her cheek against the doorframe. “I guess he had somewhere to be....”
Metal watched as Amy rubbed her sore feet together when a resentful thought came to mind; She would have been better off coming home with him. He wished she hadn’t left his side so readily when Sonic showed up.
“I should freshen up.” Amy disappeared into her room once more and Metal snatched his book from the coffee table, making his way outside in a huff. He just wanted to get the day over with.
He was just finishing the last pages of the novel when Amy emerged some time later with her shawl in one hand and a threaded needle in the other. She nestled herself into her chair and greeted Metal with a silent grin.
Metal turned his attention to her mending. She ladder-stitched her way up the tear slowly, neatly- yet the stitches remained visibly all the way up. When she got to the end of the torn part, Amy pulled her thread tightly and brought the fabric together, the stitches disappearing under the fold. Metal cocked his head toward her work upon seeing the technique, causing her to giggle. “Neat trick, huh? Told you it was an easy fix.”
Metal understood the trick now. It was an interesting procedure, but simple all in all. He laid back again slowly, considerably calmer than he’d been when Amy came out of her room.
Amy finished the mend with a knot, snipping the thread with a small pair of scissors. “Sorry about earlier. Sonic can be a little…” she waved her hand around vaguely with a sigh. He looked ahead with a shrug. “You finished the book! Interesting, huh?”
After a long journey, the hero returned home and eventually reunited with his family. It’s a happy ending if one chooses to ignore the epilogue where he’s killed in battle sometime later. Metal sank down further, tossing the book aside as Amy stifled a snort. “Nothing’s as simple as it seems, I guess.” They sat together another few minutes, enjoying the scenery and tepid weather before heading off.
-----
Amy’s eyes widened as she took in the sights of the equinox festival. Vendor booths offering jewelry, crystals, and enticing snacks lined one side of the large forest clearing while a series of colorful tents lined the other. Several small groups of people sat in discussion circles and exchanged items. Some young girls hung garlands and lights from the trees, presumably to be used in the evening for the closing ceremonies. Amy had never seen so many people practicing in one place. “They have- oh, and look! Don’t those look cool?” she didn’t know where to start.
It intrigued Metal to see her so excited. They’d arrived early, so he gestured for her to take the lead. Amy took hold of his outstretched hand and skipped toward the booths with such zeal that she pulled him along without his input. Something about her fervor really seemed to increase her strength.
As she perused through the first handful of booths, Metal could hear some people whispering and noticed as they gestured toward him. He was ready to feel annoyed over the situation, but their enthusiastic smiles and looks of interest were certainly… different from what he’d experienced in town days earlier. No one here appeared taken aback, just excited.
“Hey, what do you think of this?” Amy picked up an earthy, leather-bound journal and held it up to him. “Touch it! It’s so smooth.”
He hesitantly brought his palm up, gently making contact with the book. It was surprisingly pleasant to touch. Metal carefully rubbed the cover between his thumb and forefinger, enjoying the supple texture.
“It smells so nice- oh, I guess you can’t really tell, though…” Amy sheepishly replaced the journal on the booth when the girls who had been decorating the trees earlier skipped up behind them in a fit of giggles. Amy beamed back at them. “Well, hi! Aren’t you cute?”
One of the girls bashfully handed Amy a white daffodil. “To match your dress!”
Amy strained to keep her composure. “Oh, my… Thank you!” She took the flower with a grateful smile- It was all she could do to keep from squealing and tearing up joyfully.
“This one’s for you,” another girl said, reaching up to hand Metal a long stem of bluebells.
He froze, eyes shooting back toward Amy nervously, who nodded keenly back. Metal reached down, mindful of his claws, and took the stem in both hands with some bewilderment. Now what? He looked back to Amy, who was giggling at him playfully.
The first girl clapped. “He likes it!”
“Can you help us, mister?” another asked, already pulling on his leg.
“You’re so tall!” the girl who’d handed him the flower pointed a finger up at Metal.
Overwhelmed at all the little hands, Metal looked from one girl to another before relenting. His vision shot back towards Amy a final time as he made his way across the clearing with the children laughing and hopping around him. She held her face in her hands merrily- He supposed it was meant to be encouraging.
That was so cute… Amy thought. She took a deep breath and turned back to the stationary booth. The woman who stood at the other side leaned in to address her.
“Don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. Welcome!”
“Oh! Thank you,” Amy returned. “Yeah, it’s my first time.”
“What do you practice?”
“Tarot, mostly.”
“Oh?” The woman raised a brow. “I thought you might be a mind-reader.” When Amy’s confusion made its presence aware on her face, the woman continued. “That tall fella that was with you, you have a psychic connection, no?”
Amy was confused. “No? I’m not gifted with telepathy or anything...”
“Ah.” The two looked at one another awkwardly for a moment. Then, suddenly, they both burst into laughter and the tension disappeared. The woman’s initial reaction was strange, but Amy was just thankful that people were being kind to them here. “So you’re just close friends, then?” the woman asked.
Amy beamed at the question. “Getting closer by the day. We’re kinda roommates.”
“Where does a gal even find a mechanical roommate?”
“It’s a long story,” Amy chuckled. “Hey, do you think you could point me in the direction of the wisest tarot reader here? I kinda need some advice…”
“Wisest? Well…” she raised her chin toward the line of tents. “Check that light purple one. I think you’ll find what you need there,” the woman winked.
They chatted for a while longer and Amy thanked her, promising to come back later in the day to take another look at her supplies. She spotted Metal at the other side of the clearing, the gaggle of little girls cheering as he extended an arm to hang a floral garland far higher into the tree than anyone expected to see one. She approached them with a bemused expression. “I don’t think it has to go that high…”
Metal made a sarcastic head-bobbing motion before bringing the string of flowers down to a reasonable height. The bluebell stem was now tied around his wrist, secured with a daisy the girls must have wrapped around it to form a chain. He reeled his arm back in and tapped a finger against his opposite wrist.
“Right,” Amy turned to the girls. “Metal has to get going. Why don’t I help you with the rest?”
The kids groaned with lament as they said good-bye to their new friend. Metal waved back at them as he backed a safe distance away from everyone. He looked to Amy last, who’s cheerful face seemed to do more to brighten the space than any amount of light and decor they could place around the clearing. It was… uplifting? As he took off, many of the guests made bewildered noises and gestured to him happily, impressed by the sight. Very different from his last encounter. A relief, to say the least.
Amy kept true to her word and helped hang up the few garlands that were left before excusing herself. The shopping and conversations were enjoyable, but the main reason she’d come for the first time was for guidance. She nervously approached the small, lilac-tinted tent with a deep breath. A small bell hung outside the entrance. She pulled on it and as it tolled, a motherly voice beckoned her to enter from within.
“Welcome, dear! Come in.”
The inside of the tent was much brighter than Amy expected- the interior was white, with sheer curtains lining the walls and a faux fur rug topped with a low table. An elderly woman sat on the floor with crossed legs, facing the entrance. “Don’t be shy,” she encouraged. “Please, sit.”
Amy’s nerves let up a little when she entered the friendly atmosphere. She knelt across from the woman and introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Amy. I heard you’re the best around here with tarot.”
The woman bellowed with laughter. “I don’t know about the best- probably oldest!”
A smile spread across Amy’s face as she became more comfortable. “Well, I heard you’re very wise.”
“You could say that,” the woman beamed. “But you’re not here for a reading, are you?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“You’re gifted, yes?”
Amy’s brow curled apologetically. “I don’t think so...”
“Nonsense, I can sense it on you. How long have you been reading?”
She was taken aback at this. Amy had never really considered herself gifted in fortune-telling- she just interpreted what the cards told her. “I started almost ten years ago, but I was just eight. Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about-”
“Show me your deck.”
“O-okay” Amy pulled the box of cards from her satchel and handed them to the woman. Rather than take them, she held up a palm and pointed to the table in front of them. Amy placed the box atop it. “This is actually-”
“Your very first deck! How wonderful that you’ve kept it.”
“That’s right!” The excitement in Amy’s voice grew. “You’re so knowledgeable- oh, I don’t think I’ve gotten your name?”
The woman placed her hands on her knees and raised her chin confidently. “Call me Madame.”
-----
The two spent the next hour going over the hand Amy had drawn almost a decade earlier. She recounted her adventure on Little Planet to Madame, pointing out how each of the cards made sense to her at the time, but now she was second-guessing her interpretation. Amy’s confidence waned the more she spoke about the last several years spent with Sonic- constantly chasing after him, the frequent rejection, and how her crush was even waning as it approached its 10-year mark. She left out any details about her encounter with Metal for the sake of time, but thoroughly went over every detail she thought relevant. “We’ve actually become really good friends over the years, and I know he cares about me a lot, but…”
“He hasn’t reciprocated your affection,” Madame concluded. Her kettle suddenly whispered from atop a small camp stove rigged behind her. She poured the hot water over a teapot full of green tea leaves.
“Right…” Amy sighed.
Madame rubbed her chin pensively as she waited for the tea to brew. “This is a bit of an unusual spread for such a young girl, but much of it is accurate.” Amy had recreated the spread on the table, and Madame studied it intensely as she thought. “Certainly the Ace of Wands and Tower manifested- you met someone on this adventure, and it was more than a bit chaotic as you’ve explained it. And the reversed Hierophant seems to describe this man well enough. And as for the Nine of Wands- well, I suppose asking the cards whether embarking on a task is ‘worth it’ can be tricky- it told you there would be trials, but hints to success, of which you haven’t seemed to achieve yet. Now, I am wondering about this…” She placed a bony finger on The Moon. “Bit of a wild card, if you’ll pardon the expression,” she grinned. “You asked the cards what the relationship would be like, correct?”
“That’s right- I took this to mean that there would be a lot of surprises- and there have been! We’ve gone on a lot of adventures together, you could say.”
“And he hasn’t been dishonest with you?”
“Trust me, he’s been plenty honest,” she replied. “He’s not one for ambiguity.”
“I see. Well…” Madame poured Amy a cup of green tea and slid it to her. “The Moon is very mysterious. It can represent surprises and unexpected events, but it could also manifest as a sort of a coping mechanism. It can represent fear- such as the fear of being rejected- and the illusion you use to hide it; A little lie you tell yourself to protect your feelings. Now, you’ve spent a lot of time on the notion that if you hold out, a relationship will manifest. Is that correct?”
Definitely not what Amy was hoping to hear. “I guess so,” she replied unhappily.
Madame nodded. “I have a theory, but I’d like to see if the cards agree. Did you pull one this morning?”
Amy took the cup in her hands nervously and looked down at her reflection in the murky tea. She hadn’t- the morning’s excitement and subsequent exhaustion had kept her from the daily ritual. “No, something came up…”
“That’s alright. Why don’t you do one now?” Madame pushed the deck back into a neat stack and sat back.
“Okay,” Amy nodded, starting the ritual. Madame watched her prepare and shuffle the deck with intrigue. Amy’s connection to her cards couldn’t be denied- she knew them like she knew herself. Resting her hand atop the stack, she inhaled and exhaled deliberately before turning over the top card. The Seven Of Swords sat reversed before her.
Madame smirked at its sight. “I thought so.” Amy groaned to herself softly. The woman was right- the card told a story of honesty, confession, and regret. “Now that I have backup, my dear, I would like to offer some advice- but I believe you should keep an open mind.”
Amy looked bewildered as she swirled her tea around, unable to think of what else to say. This was what she had come for- of course she should be open-minded! She just wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear whatever this wise woman had to say. With a reluctant nod, Amy took a sip of tea and listened attentively.
“This man, he knows how you feel about him, but he hasn’t shown the same interest. It could be that he’s just shy about those things, but…” the woman softened her tone as she leaned in closer. “Have you ever asked him directly?”
Reluctantly, Amy thought about the question. Abundantly clear though her affections were, she couldn’t recall actually asking Sonic if he was interested in her- she admittedly felt like that should be his role. It was possible that he just wasn’t the best at expressing those emotions, but that was probably all the more reason to be direct. “No, I haven’t,” she said finally.
“I believe you need to face this fear of rejection head-on. If I were you, I would ask him explicitly how he feels.”
Amy sighed. And maybe confirm those fears. “It’s just been so long, I never know when the right time is to get serious, you know? I mean, I’m seeing him tomorrow, but-”
“Then there’s no time like the present,” the old woman smiled wisely.
“No time like the present,” Amy repeated. She nodded anxiously, knowing it was time.
“Also… I am sensing there is perhaps something else you need to get off your conscience. Am I wrong?”
It annoyed Amy how accurate the assessment was- she was beginning to see why her friends avoided her readings.
She had every intention of speaking to Metal that morning about a particularly sore memory when Sonic interrupted them. In truth, she was relieved to get out of the situation, feeling ashamed at her own past actions when she remembered; But it was clear she wasn’t getting out of revealing it. “Yeah… I need to, uh, clear the air with a friend.”
“You had a fight?”
“Sort of. It was years ago, and-”
“And?” Madame leaned in, gesturing to Amy encouragingly.
“And… There’s no time like the present,” Amy exhaled.
“I think you know what you have to do then.”
The disheartened girl couldn’t seem to get another word out, so Madame continued gently. “You are very gifted in the divine arts. To learn so much about your future at such a young age? Incredible! But reading for yourself can be… near-sighted. Just remember to think outside the box with your interpretations. And don’t keep putting off important conversations! Your time is as valuable as anyone’s.”
There was much for Amy to process. She sat hunched over the table, eyes fixed on her deck as she thought about Madame’s analysis. Amy wanted to protest, to say that the woman was overstepping and to cast doubt over her qualifications, but there was simply nothing to deny. She placed her teacup down and stood from the soft rug.
“Thanks for the kind words, and for your wisdom.” Picking up her cards, she started toward the tent entrance. “I should really get back out there. What do I owe you?”
Madame nodded with a soft hum. “Hm, of course, dear. It was just one card- the conversation was payment enough. Please enjoy yourself. You know where to find me.”
Amy thanked her sincerely and pushed herself through the parted tent opening. She squinted in the afternoon light. A hundred thoughts raced through her mind as she then paced around the gathering site aimlessly. Am I really that scared of rejection? she asked herself. Amy feared she already knew what Sonic’s answer would be, but resolved to find out for good as soon as she had the opportunity. As for Metal, it wasn’t fair to leave him hanging regarding his own memory -she would have to finish what she’d started that morning.
Amy marched several times around the perimeter of the clearing in deep thought until the rumbling in her stomach snatched her from her daze. She hadn’t eaten in far too long. Taking a look around, there were a good number of lunch options, and she really should enjoy the festival while she could. Anything to distract from her vexation.
With that goal in mind, Amy spent the rest of the afternoon partaking in whatever activities she could. She sampled a few offerings from several lunch stands, sat in on a meditation session, and even joined a group of young women discussing several supernatural topics. By the time evening began to fall, Amy had all but forgotten her session with Madame. She genuinely enjoyed herself there.
Amy finished her shopping, noticing that many of the vendors were closing as sunset approached. Just as she’d welcomed the day, most of the guests sat quietly, observing as the sky changed from pale blues to bright, fiery shades, and finally darkened to a deep navy as night fell. This was about the time Metal had agreed to pick her up, so she made sure to be ready to go once he arrived. To her delight, however, it appeared that the festivities were just beginning.
A bonfire was lit in the center of the clearing as guests gathered around and arranged mats and blankets for guests to rest on. A band seemed to form out of nowhere and began to play festive tunes while several people formed a chain around the bonfire, skipping around it melodically. Then the chain broke and many more joined in on the dancing as others cheered and sang from the mats on the ground. Amy was in awe- It was her first time witnessing such a thing in person. She was just contemplating whether she should join in when she heard Metal’s engine overhead.
She swung her arm up at him merrily for a moment before the sight of Metal jerked her back to reality. A knot formed in Amy’s stomach as she remembered her conversation with the old woman, but she did her best to appear normal as her friend landed. “Hey- good to see you.”
Metal held up a palm in greeting. “Did it go okay?” Amy asked him. He responded by bringing a sharp index finger to his forehead. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the paint job on his forehead was now spotless. “You look great, Metal. I’m happy for you.” Amy clasped her hands in front of her demurely. Normally, she would be compelled to take his hand in hers or go in for a hug, but Amy felt self-conscious about it now. The old woman’s words rang in her head when she looked at Metal; she was embarrassed to have kept him wondering about it all day.
Unready and desperate for a buffer, Amy invited him to join her in watching the festivities a bit closer, already inching herself in that direction. “Why don’t we hang out for a little before we go home?”
It was certainly new to Metal, if a bit unusual. He followed her along, surprised she wasn’t more tired after such a long day. Her heart rate seemed slightly… elevated? But she was probably just excited about the festival.
Amy sat on a free mat closer to the fire. It was pleasantly warm at that distance, combating the cool night air. She rubbed at her arm, unsure if the chill she felt was due to the weather or her nerves. Metal joined her soon after, stretching out his legs as he sat next to her. Staring starkly ahead, Amy tried to focus on the fire and music in vain. But all that ran through her head was the search for a tactful way with which she could bring up the subject again. She stared silently into the flames. Her vision was fuzzy.
The loud music and crowd of dancers were new to Metal. He doubted he’d ever been close to this type of atmosphere even before he lost his memory, and it was a bit overwhelming seeing everything that took place at once. Even as large groups danced together, others twirled around in pairs, and still more people chatted and laughed as they observed. A young man was weaving between groups big and small, and Metal saw him taking a close look at the palm of a woman’s hand. And there he and Amy were, sitting quietly on a mat, observing. It was strange to him that Amy was so hushed when he fully expected to hear all about what was happening around them. He nudged her on the shoulder with his elbow and she practically jumped.
“Ah- you startled me! Sorry!” the flustered girl fidgeted with the front of her shawl, avoiding eye contact. This shouldn’t be so hard...
Metal was somewhat startled himself. It was worrisome to see Amy so jumpy; she hadn’t even acted that way when she was nervous about the team meeting. Perhaps the loud atmosphere was making her skittish? The young man Metal had seen earlier came up behind them just then, offering Amy a hand.
“Would you like to dance, miss?” he inquired politely. Turning to Metal, he continued. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow her for a bit.” Metal looked at him with some skepticism. He wasn’t sure what the man had been doing when he was making rounds, but he didn’t seem to be asking anyone else to dance.
“Uh, I’m not much of a dancer,” Amy lied. In truth, she was just too uneasy to enjoy it.
“The moves are simple,” he insisted.
She shook her head. “I’m okay…”
With a coy smile, the young man squatted next to her. “How about a palm reading, then? You look like something is vexing you.”
Amy clicked her tongue incredulously. She didn’t want to be rude, but what a presumptuous thing to say- even if it happened to be true. “No, thank you. I prefer the cards.”
“Ah, a tarot reader. Well, come find me if you change your mind,” he said as he stood up. Before long, he had moved on to solicit another girl.
“Pft. Palm reading…” Amy hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “I mean, not that I’m judging.” She was absolutely judging.
Metal tilted his head with a confused look. “Oh, it’s just another form of divination. I don’t really get it- not like the lines on your palms change at all. What’s there to read?” Metal found the uncharacteristically snarky response amusing. He held out his own palm to her assertively. “You want me to give you a palm reading?” she chortled. “Okay…”
Hesitantly, Amy took Metal’s hand in one of hers, observing the uniform grooves that made up the interconnected plates in his hands. “Well, you have quite the lifeline,” she smirked, using her finger to trace where the base of his thumb was attached to the palm. “It means you’re going to live a long, long life. Maybe forever,” she shrugged playfully. Metal made a long tone that made him sound interested. It made Amy laugh a bit as she continued the ruse. “I guess that would make this your heart line- ah-” An arbitrary thought introduced in her mind. Robots don’t have hearts, how would he have a heart line? She scoffed aloud softly. They don’t have any palm lines! Don’t be stupid, she reasoned with herself. Metal leaned his head closer to hers inquisitively and she continued, more timidly. “A-also long… I don’t really know what that means, though, sorry.” She let his hand slip out of her palm gently and went back to avoiding eye contact.
It wasn’t what he’d become used to with her. Metal scooted closer and nudged her softly with his shoulder. She could rest her head if she was tired, he thought, but he didn’t get an immediate response out of her.
It’s time. Amy looked to him hesitantly. “Do you want to head home? I think we should talk.”
The words made Metal nervous. He had an idea of what was coming next. Agreeing, he offered a hand getting up. She pretended not to see it and rose on her own.
Once they’d gone past most of the celebrating people and reached the edge of the clearing, he offered her a hand once more. Amy looked to it, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Actually, do you mind if we walk?” Amy wasn’t confident she would be able to convince herself to speak again if she had to wait until they got home. She flexed her feet, still sore from that morning.
The two continued through the forest path. Amy kept looking straight ahead as she eventually began. “I’m sure you remember I started talking about it this morning- how you went on your own and all.” She glanced at him just momentarily. “Well, it wasn’t anything like now. Um…” It took her a moment to form the words. “So… A few years ago, you lured a bunch of us into a huge battle. We thought Eggman was stringing us along, but when we got to you, we found out that you’d imprisoned him and taken over his whole deal. Sonic, Tails, Knuckles- even Cream and some others came along. So much happened in three days…” Amy went on to recount some of the events that lead up to their encounter, not wanting to leave anything out.
Somehow, the knowledge that he’d endangered Cream was sickening to Metal. He already knew about fighting the others, but she must have been so young then; even younger than Amy was when he met her. It felt heinous.
Amy had reached the end of the adventure- she took a few breaths before mustering the courage to recall their battle. “When we finally got there, you looked nothing like yourself. Eggman didn’t even know how you’d transformed. I remember you could speak- I mean, you mostly threatened us... I thought you were all talk, honestly, until…” She stopped in her tracks. It was surprisingly painful to remember, especially now. Amy couldn’t believe she was speaking to the same being who had threatened the lives of everyone she cared about all at once. She looked up to find Metal’s crimson eyes staring through her. “I can stop, if you want.” It was more of a hope that he’d want her to.
There was feeling conflicted, and then there was this. Metal hadn’t anticipated Amy would be this uncomfortable, which in turn made him feel the same. But he needed to know. He approached her slowly, reaching out to take her hand in his, his normally whispering engine now beginning to hiss. She tightened her fingers around his and went on reluctantly.
“Okay… So, you kept changing. You turned into this huge... monster... you went on a total rampage.” Amy instantly regretted her choice of words, but there was no going back. “If we hadn’t all been there to stop you, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
Monster. It was hurtful to hear her describe him that way- but if the story was true, he couldn’t blame her. Metal could feel his body reacting inhospitably, his thoughts scrambling. He tried to take his hand away but Amy stopped him, tightening her grip.
“Wait, Metal- I want you to know that I don’t blame you. You were just... unrecognizable, filled with so much rage. I know that wasn’t really you, and I don’t want that to happen to you again. I feel so guilty... I wish I’d helped you back then instead of chasing after Sonic like always...”
She felt guilty? What a cruel joke. He remembered now; The intense, bitter hatred that drove him to transform. He thought about Sonic, how he longed to destroy him, and the objective Metal had self-imposed to eliminate his copy- but, wasn’t Metal the copy? Did Amy get the details of their meeting right? He pulled away from her harshly, bringing his hands up to his forehead in panicked confusion. A sharp ring broke out in his head. It must have been what a headache felt like.
“Metal-” Amy gasped. He looked like he was in pain- something she didn’t think was possible. “Did you remember?” He nodded, still cradling his head in his hands.
Pure static rushed through Metal’s circuitry. It wasn’t just the memory of his malformed plan that came back to him, but his vicious motivation as well. Malice blazed in him when he pictured his defeat at Sonic’s hands. The unwavering hostility was like a curse- how was it possible that he was still the same being that Amy described so tenderly just days earlier? The existential guilt that accumulated in the dark corners of his mind was suddenly unrelenting, weighing on him as it increased tenfold. And then he remembered another defeat from his past. And another. And the looking anger from the aftermath of each. He became buried in an avalanche of memories.
His system overwhelmed, Metal sensed himself about to shut down,his body screeching as every fan struggled to spin fast enough; And knowing he’d been made to withstand worse, he couldn’t have felt more pathetic.
Amy’s hands clasped around his face compassionately.
“Metal,” she pleaded. He struggled to lift his view, but once there, he stared at her for far too long. Amy held firm, locking her gentle eyes with his fiery ones as fans and engines eased steadily. Slowly, Metal loosened his hands away from his head, and the corners of Amy’s mouth raised assuredly. “You’ll be okay,” she affirmed, her hands moving from Metal’s face to behind his back, pressing her body to his. He was warm. “I’m sorry... if that memory is painful.”
It felt selfish, but his body demanded her comfort. Metal immediately returned Amy’s embrace, holding her firmly to him and clutching the back of her hair eagerly. Painful. What a devastating thing to feel in a body that shouldn’t have the ability. But why should it have been? He wasn’t the one who’s life had been threatened- and yet he was the one being consoled.
His system was returning to its usual state, but the past still echoed in Metal’s mind noisily. As he remembered the details of that day, Amy’s fierce countenance in the heat of battle appeared before him. Metal hadn’t felt anything for her then- she’d been just another hurdle in his scheme, someone he’d have no qualms with striking down if she got in his way. And he’d tried to. It felt impossible that he didn’t remember the compassion she’d shown him then, when it weighed so heavily on him now. But he couldn’t forget her again; he wouldn’t allow himself to. It was more than a promise, it was an objective to impose on his every action from that moment on. Metal rested his head on hers warily, combing his fingers gently through the locks at the back of Amy’s head. She closed her eyes with a gentle humming sigh at the pleasant sensation.
“Let’s go home…” Amy spoke softly and serenely. She felt him nod, his cheek nuzzling the crown of her head. She began to put some distance between them, but didn’t make it far as Metal hoisted her up in his grip. “Oh, I meant we should walk…” He returned with a look as if to ask if she was joking. “Come on, I feel bad that you carry me everywhere; it’s not that far.”
The hike would take close to an hour from where they were. Metal denied her request with a shake of his head.
“Why not?” He simply glanced at her blistered feet momentarily, suggesting that she should stay off them. “Hmph- I’m fine... Put me down.” Amy pouted, her cheeks on the verge of glowing.
Stubborn, he remembered. Metal hiked her up higher against his chest, strengthening his hold around her. She was practically pinned to him now. Rather than continue to protest, Amy crossed her arms in front of her and relented. “Fine… I guess it’ll be faster…” It was strange- she always assumed that being held by those steely arms would be cold or unpleasant, but Amy had grown to find it comforting- warm, even- and that was what felt wrong about it to her. It felt… inappropriate, she thought.
Unbeknownst to her, Metal was similarly at odds with the behavior. He could hardly admit to himself how pleasurable he found the task of carrying her home, let alone to Amy. Capricious, perhaps, and he wasn’t sure if it was so appropriate, either; But holding Amy brought Metal such solace that he chose to ignore it, convincing himself that he only squeezed her against him for her sake. The closer the better.
Amy’s simple “Thank you” were the only words exchanged between them on their way home. Metal tried not to let his thoughts wander too much so that he did not become overwhelmed again. He knew he couldn't hold it back for long with all the information pouring into his memory at once.
It suddenly became difficult to think of Sonic without becoming enraged. Though Sonic's mere presence irritated him, Metal thought he was over the intense loathing from the first time he encountered Sonic after losing his memory. But it was all too logical now, and so he struggled to ignore it. The memory of his meeting with Amy that seemed so clear just yesterday was also jumbled- he remembered their conversation and his defeat, but something about his impression of Sonic was… off. Metal was beginning to gain an understanding that he was superior to his rival, so how could it be that he was created in Sonic’s image and not the other way around? And there was Amy- supposedly one of Sonic’s best friends, but it often appeared to Metal that he didn’t treat her as such. Metal was undoubtedly a better companion to her- Sonic himself suggested that Amy and Metal “keep looking out for each other”- perhaps Sonic was jealous.
Before he could fixate too much on his rival, Metal came up on the valley and slowed his descent. He glanced down at Amy, comfortably resting in his arms with heavy eyes. He wasn’t ignorant- he knew the reason she pursued Sonic. It must have been the same reason Metal couldn’t bring himself to leave Amy’s side and why he found her presence so soothing; friendship didn’t exactly describe it. He was reminded of the second film they’d watched last night; the warm and compassionate manner in which the lovers handled one another. Like the kind way Amy spoke to and about Metal, or how he caressed her tightly when they traveled together. He wasn’t sure how he processed the conclusion, if it was even possible, but… he loved her.
But it stood to reason, then, that if she could think of Sonic that way with all the deficiencies in the way he treated her, that Amy could feel that way about Metal, too. He wondered if their time spent together now would make up for how he’d wronged her in the past. He loved her; he wanted to tell her.
Metal didn’t quite land, instead reaching close to the ground and propelling himself forward, just hovering off the ground. Amy noticed the change. “Oh, I haven’t seen you do this, since…”
Since before he’d lost his memory, probably. He didn’t know why he moved that way either, but something about it clicked. Almost as if it was natural. Walking never really felt innate to him, he simply mimicked what Amy and Tails did when they’d “met.” This just made more sense to him now.
He put Amy down slowly, bending forward to give her the opportunity to stand on her own gradually. She didn’t expect her feet to throb when placing them back on the ground after a rest, so she hobbled to the couch to kick the lousy sandals off. With a sigh of relief, she sunk back into the cushion. Metal took his place on the sofa next to her.
“Thanks for bringing me home… my feet really were killing me,” she admitted sheepishly. “Probably should’ve chosen better shoes, but they looked cute, so... you know.”
Metal was barely listening to her words, trying instead to decide how to make his confession. He feared it was too impulsive, calculating all the possible ways in which she could react. He barely understood it himself. He felt his body tense again at the thought of confessing.
“I mean it,” she turned to him, reaching out to place her hand on his. “Thanks for everything today. It’s weird, but… I think we’re starting to become best friends. Don’t tell Cream,” she giggled and gave his hand a small squeeze in her customary way. “Metal, even though you’ve done hurtful things in the past, you need to know that I forgive you. I hope you can forgive yourself, too.”
Forgiveness. That was one thing he hadn’t begun to process. He assumed the guilt would just continue to well inside him and that pushing it to the depths of his memory would be enough. But hearing her say that she forgave him made his shoulders feel just a bit lighter. He lowered his eyes to view her hand atop his.
Amy did the same, her lashes curling down toward her cheeks. “I’m still here for you if you need me.” Though her shame was fading, Amy regretted the unsympathetic attitude she’d taken toward Metal after that battle. She thought about the vulnerable, insecure state he must have been in and how things could be different if she’d taken the care back then that she did now. Seeing how docile, how warm, how normal he could be gave her hope. It was clear now that he wasn’t so one-sided.
Metal sensed her calm heartbeat, her relaxed breathing. He made sure to record her reassuring words and the mannerisms he found so enchanting, the added memories compelling him toward the new objective he’d created. He still had work to do in understanding his past and making decisions for his future, but he knew he wanted to make room for Amy in that future somehow. He loved her, but it wasn’t the time. Enjoying her friendship was enough.
----
Somewhere in a dimly lit room, a map appeared on a wall-sized monitor behind a man’s broad shadow. The speaker upon his desk chimed and a robotic voice came through with a message.
“Metal Sonic- active. Initiating systems.”
A small dot began to blink on the map and the man swiveled in his chair to face it, grinning.
“Finally,” he responded sharply. “Make the announcement.”
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Wow that only took uhhhhh 19 months? ksjcjhsUmmm let’s just say I had a very complicated 2021. My living situation became pretty weird and I started a different role at work that came with a lot of new responsibility. I was even published professionally in an industry mag so I can't say I haven’t been writing I guess lolI also happen to be in the process of moving which coincided with like the first vacation I’ve taken with my family since. ever? I leave in a week and I have to be moved out a few days after getting back but you know it’s fine i’m fine hahaAnyway I appreciate everyone’s kind comments over the past few months! But I’m overall in a good state (knock on wood), so I’m trying my best to keep updating after I’m back and settled in my new place. Which is to say, not for another two months at least (sorry!)Thanks again to whoever is still reading. Besos ♥ ~
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Bleeding Heart
Main Masterlist
Summary:
They say love comes in many forms, for you it came, chew you up, spat you out, and left you a broken mess. It looks like it might have returned, gods know how you'll handle it this time.
Pairings:
Mark Sloan x Male!Reader
Tags:
Angst | Getting Back Together | Eventual Fluff | Exes to Friends to Lovers | Nosy Interns | Canon Divergence (Because I'm Too Lazy To Keep Track Of Canon)
Status: Ongoing
Author's Note:
I couldn't help myself, the opportunity to write some more angst for Mark was too good to miss, don't worry it will get fluffy and happy at some point, but before that, we must trudge through the tears, fighting, and anger. Also, I have no idea when this happens in the timeline, don't expect 100% canon because I'm too lazy to take notes.
Do not expect 100% medical accuracy, I am not a doctor and there's only so much you can Google before it starts raising alarm bells. The chapter titles are supposed to be a poem I concocted while planning this series, so enjoy that mess.
Updated Jan 1, 2023
Chapter 1: Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater
Unlike Addison, you were far less keen to move up shop and coexist with your ex, his lover, and Derek - well, Derek, you could deal with, he and you both went through the same thing but all the same, you’d rather go the rest of your life without ever seeing Mark’s face.
Chapter 2: Almost Had a Husband, but Couldn’t Keep Him
“I care, your sister cares, Derek cares, Richard—” “If Richard cared, he wouldn’t have made me work with Mark,” you interjected, “and if Addison cared, she wouldn’t have…she….” you divulge into blabbering as the feeling of hurt resurfaces again. The tears start up, and no amount of harsh rubbing will get rid of them. You hold your head in your hands, then throw the bottle against the wall; it shatters into pieces as you start laughing.
Chapter 3: Took Another, Thought He Loved Her
Izzie takes a step back, nudging George, she gestures between you and Mark, but he doesn’t have a response - besides, there was tension in the air; Mark shuffled every so often, hands folding over themselves repeatedly as you kept your gaze glued anywhere but him. The elevator is taking its time, and George prays that the power doesn’t go out; his prayers are answered when the door opens; you and Mark go your separate ways. “That was….awkward..” Izzie mutters.
Chapter 4: Now He’s Sad, And Wants His First Love Back
The ice pack by his head was upheld by one arm as the other tipped the ice-cold water into his mouth. He’d thanked you, then promptly dropped his head onto the counter, passing out again. You think that’s when you looked at him and decided he was it for you - that and also the bird’s nest of a hair he donned.
Chapter 5: You’re Not So Quick To Love Again
You try to ignore the apparent looks of curiosity you garner from the rest of the staff; word of your possible reconciliation has no doubt already become the top story - it’s more monotonous; if anything, there are moments when Mark almost does something out of habit but stops himself almost immediately. You almost fall into familiar patterns as well, and by the end of the first day of the trial run, you’re adequately exhausted.
Chapter 6: Broken Hearts Take Time to Mend
Chapter 7: It Makes The Wait All Worth The While
Chapter 8: One More Dance, Another Chance
Chapter 9: Me and You, Together Again
#mark sloan x reader#mark sloan x male reader#grey's anatomy imagine#male reader#don't expect 100% medical accuracy because you're not gonna get that here and I'm not a doctor
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