#like girl... the point of going to the unknown world is to find the thing which helps you solve the problem you have in the known world

[averagecygnet-blog]

you have two wolves inside you. one recognizes that the point of the hero's journey is to go on the journey and return having changed, and therefore respects suzanne collins for having gregor leave the underland behind him forever. the other really wants gregor to go back to the underland and stay there and marry luxa and be king of regalia in a time of lasting peace. you are gay

[peachesofteal]

MELOS

main masterlist / Azriel's masterlist

Azriel/female reader Part one of three - 8.5k words - AO3

Tags: 18+ mdni. Torture scene, asphyxiation (not the sexy kind), angst. Azriel hates himself. Feelings of despair, fear, panic, longing. Amren uses "boy/girl" so I can too. Mention of spanking. Trauma. Post ACOSF, HOFAS, canon-compliant. Cassian is a meddler. Azriel doesn't like surprises.

In the woods just inside the confines of the Middle, Azriel finds a puzzle.

More aptly, Azriel finds you, bathed in the glow of the sunset, iridescent snowflakes from the first snow delicately falling to your shoulders, your hair, the tip of your nose.

There’s magic on the wind carrying your scent, something different he cannot place, tang of petrichor sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Strange, beautiful creature, the shadows whisper. He’s inclined to agree.

Strange indeed.

For a moment, he thinks of Bryce. He remembers her entrance into this world, her stories of her home, things both he and Nesta have no concept of. The star on her chest.

She is of no threat to us. 

That’s not for you to decide.

He slips into the caliginous wisp curling around his shoulders, a shroud of darkness allowing him a closer look, just as a persistent huff at the edge of his mind pulls his attention.

Where are you? 

Working.

Working where? 

South. There’s a snort.

One-word answers, how sufficient. You’re not a pariah. Come home. 

Once I’m finished. 

The conversation eclipses his focus until you slip on the frozen riverbank and he tenses, gaze swinging to where you’ve caught yourself with a squeak, one hand behind your back, palm slicked with mud. 

His wall falls entirely, distracted, and Rhys' curiosity piques. 

Who is that? 

No one. I’ll report to you later. With that, the conversation ceases, Azriel’s walls of tenebrific smoke rising to block out the irritated hiss of his brother.

The edge of the Middle is considered somewhat safe, though not without risk, a perplexing fact that spurs him closer for a better look as you rise from the river, frozen blades of glass crunching under the sole of your boot. Your ears are pointed, limbs elongated, both markers of High Fae, but something unknown still lingers, a natural, earth rich sillage left in your wake. Your hips swing from the effort of pushing up the bank, backpack in hand, and the sway distracts him. It’s hard to ignore the shape of you, the weight of your breasts, the pert bow of your top lip. Gods, at full height, you barely reach his shoulders, and his body reacts in a way that’s out of his control.

Rhys’ warning is ice between his ears, a wound still fresh even though it's old. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.  

He’s long let her go, but the command from his brother still sits bitterly in his stomach, along with untended desire. That's all this is, misplaced salacity.

Still, even your calves draw his eye.

Lovely little female, the shadows croon. He grits his teeth and falls into step behind you, cautiously allowing inky tendrils to sprawl across bramble laced ground. One licks too close, just barely caressing the edge of your heel, and you freeze.

So does he. An unnatural stillness falls over the wood, culminating into a quiet so loud it shatters as you fix wary eyes on the space where he stands. He holds his breath, ice crystal laden cirrus clouds parting overhead, drawing back the curtain on a star filled night sky, silver light shimmering across fallen leaves. 

The night's splendor shines on you like a blessing from the Mother herself. 

You blink, lips parted, quizzical, anxious expression bringing your brows together. “Hello?”

You can’t… you can’t see him, can you?

Your reaction puzzles him. How is it you are out here, in the Middle, so brazenly, so recklessly, calling out to a place filled with such sinister, monstrous magic and monsters?

You tilt your face to the break in the clouds, downy white snowflakes sticking to your eyelashes and dotting your cheeks in such a way it’s seraphic. The shadows, his shadows, vibrate with frenetic, enchanted energy.

Beautiful, they coo as they reach for you, nearly finding the bend of your neck before he snaps them away.

You shift the backpack hung from your shoulders and take one last look around, confused, until you shake your head, spinning on your heel to head into the forest. The urge to follow you is too great, your presence here is now a riddle requiring answers, if not for his own curiosity, then for the safety of the Night Court, his family. Who knows who you are, what you are, what your business is in this place-

Shadowsinger. Nuala’s whisper halts his pursuit. The fox is here with news of Koschei.

With one more long look at your retreating back, he reluctantly steps into a pocket of a shadow, leaving the Middle and its new mystery for another time. Soon.  

Azriel does not like surprises.

In fact, he prides himself on rarely ever being surprised, at least in Velaris.

So to stumble upon you at the Palace of Bone and Salt, to see you in the midday sun, boots and muddied cloak replaced by a plum stained linen dress, hair pinned up in various places off your neck and holding a large canvas bag at your side, stops him in his tracks. He falls behind Cassian and Nesta without a single word, slowing his steps to mimic how you drift through the stalls and storefronts, nodding and smiling to others as if you belong here. As if this is your home. The wary look in your eyes from the other day has been replaced by a radiant, celestial glimmer, one drawing those around you closer, and something squeezes around his heart at the sight.

Our sweet girl. 

Stop it. 

“Az?” Nesta turns, noticing his absence, Cassian following suit almost immediately.

“Sorry,” he replies smoothly, running a hand down the buttons of his shirt. Even from paces away, the scent of your skin fills his nostrils, dampened wood from rain and freshly fallen fruit. Foolishly, his gaze lingers too long, long enough his brother notices, and breaks out a broad grin.

“See something you like?”

Cassian plants himself directly in your path, pretending to look on absentmindedly, perusing a stall piled with fresh cuts of meats. You try to move around him, but the flow of bodies stalls your momentum, and you nearly trip over your feet, giving Cassian an opportunity to reach out and steady you.

“I’m sorry!” You grip the straps of your bag, righting yourself after recovering from the stumble, and Azriel closes his eyes, resisting the urge to pinch his brow.

“That’s alright. I’m Cassian,” he grins, extending his hand. There isn't a male, female, or child in this place that does not know them, but the introduction is polite, at the bare minimum. At its depth, it's a way for his some time insufferable brother to stick his nose in a place it doesn't belong, and when you don’t reciprocate, he breezes right past, ignoring the awkwardness of your refusal. “This is Nesta, and Azriel.” Azriel inclines his head, and you look from Cassian to him, before settling on Nesta.

Most in Velaris look away from Nesta, like they’re staring at a star so bright it hurts their eyes, but not you. You meet her head on, studying curiously, and her lips quirk to the side in a barely-there smile.

“Ignore him. He’s an oaf sometimes.” She playfully nudges Cassian with an elbow, and you relax slightly. His brother doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone however, and clears his throat.

“This is the part where you tell us your name. It’s customary.” You’re taken aback for a second, a micro-expression of unease no one else tracks save for himself before recovering with a tepid smile.

Your name rings like a bell, a chime of music, strings and key perfectly played in harmony. The shadows sigh.

“Do you live around here?” Cassian pushes, and teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Yes, I- I work at Moonflower.”

“The apothecary?”  

“That’s the one.”

“Maybe we’ll see you there sometime. Nesta’s always in need of a new elixir.” She raises a brow at her mate, who flashes Azriel a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, I work in the back.”

“You’re the apothecary.”  They're the first words he's said to you, and they're wrong. They slip off his tongue too cold, too calculated, and he doesn't miss the way you frown in confusion.

“I’m an alchemist, but… yes.” Your voice is a shade above a whisper, quiet beneath the bustle of the market, and his eyes meet yours, circling in your inescapable gaze like a spider in a web. Cassian coughs, breaking his reverie. “I uh… I should get going, I’ve got a lot of work to do. It was nice to meet you all.” He wants to disappear into the crowd of the market after you, but he dreads the weight it would carry with his brother, the unrelenting questioning and pestering it would produce. 

“You too!” Cassian hollers, and then faces him with a wide grin. “Well, she’s-“ Nesta smacks the middle of his chest, and Azriel glowers.

“Don’t.”

He finds you again in the Middle, same backpack and boots, diligently picking through a patch of chartreuse moss. He swallows his scowl. Why are you out here alone, again? It frustrates him. Why put yourself in such danger?

He's struck by a fantasy, one of you with your pants pulled down your ankles and bent over his knees, sweet cries filling the room as you take your punishment for such recklessness, his open palm raining smack after smack down onto your ass.

Madness. He shakes the vision away, coming to stand at your side.

“Hello.” You whirl, startled like a rabbit.

Nice, the shadows groan, and his wings flex.

“H-hi.” Music again, a melody on the breeze, and shadows flutter around his shoulders, scrawling across the ground to where you kneel. He orders them back, wielding a sharp-edged command that cuts, but they stray farther, stretching for you, carefully floating across your forearms.  

He’s stunned, briefly, and then gathers his wits, yanking them away. They’ve never, never behaved this way. Born for him from desolation, tamed from darkness incarnate, he’s shaped them into obedient spies, tools spread across Prythian, ethereal wisps capable of things others cannot comprehend. Always in service, always compliant.

You look up with a little bit of wonder in your eyes, pretty little smile tugging at your mouth. He should say something reassuring, something kind or friendly to ease you, but such sentiment fails him, and he scowls, snapping at you instead. “Why are you out here by yourself?” Your face falls, effectively chastised like a child who’s been caught in a cookie jar.

“I’m… I need things. Ingredients.”

“And you need to come out here to get them?”

“The plant life is more vibrant here, more uh, c-concentrated? The magic is stronger. It’s hard to explain…” 

“The Middle is a dangerous place.” He replies flatly.

“Oh, I don’t have problems here. I never travel too far from the boundary.” You glance at your bag at the edge of the clearing, eager for an escape he imagines, though he’s not willing to let you go.

“You’re quite far from Velaris.” You nod, but offer no explanation, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I winnowed.” You rock back on your heels and stand, shuffling closer to your backpack. He doesn’t move to stop you, just stands in the center of the moss patch, studying your every move. “I've got to get back,” you explain, offering him a nervous smile, one he doesn’t deserve, or return. You wilt. 

It strikes a chord in the pit of his stomach, and in a last-minute moment of weakness, he sends a shadow to ride the coattails of your winnow, issuing a stark warning to reaffirm the mission.

Observe and report to me. Do not make yourself known. 

Always.

Our sweet looks beautiful tonight, the shadows report in a whirlwind of excitement, and he pauses mid cut as the male in front of him whimpers, twisting, trying break free from the chains.

That is not worthy of a report. He blatantly ignores the possessiveness, the pet name. For now.

She’s going to Rita’s with a friend. He bites down on the inside of his cheek. Her dress is blue. Cobalt.  

Why are you reporting this? 

We’re acting as instructed. 

This is a futile information, he chastises, and the answer is resounding silence as he shakes his shoulders and turns back to his prey, the crying, bloody Fae strung up by his wrists.

“Where were we?”

Outside of Rita’s, Azriel lurks in darkness.  

His family is inside, unaware he’s in the alley, tucked away from prying eyes. He’s freshly showered, blood scrubbed out from beneath his fingernails, blackened door in his mind firmly shut and locked away, just like its twin in the dungeon.

It’s been too long since he’s gone out, always choosing to slink away just before the conversations turn to plans, separating himself from Mor, and Elain, distancing himself from scrutiny or worse, pity.

Tonight, he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t shake the idea of you here, so close, so tangible.

He slides from the shadowed pocket, and Fae step around him, eyes going wide and inclining their heads as a sign of respect. 

Respect. A joke. The city cannot fathom what he has done in his lifetime, and if they did, respect would be the furthest thing from their mind. 

He dons his mask, cold indifference, severe gaze, and slips inside.

Cassian knows he’s here before he’s in view. A brother’s intuition, an instinct that has served them well in battle and elsewhere, since they were young.

Tonight, he greets Azriel with a wide, knowing grin, dragging his gaze to the other side of the room and Azriel has no choice but to follow, spotting the obvious immediately.

You. 

You’re perched at a table, legs crossed, smiling, laughing, holding a too full glass of wine. The dress is cobalt blue silk, delicate lace stitched on the hem, thin straps exposing your neck, your clavicle, your back. For a moment, he imagines his mouth on those places, he dreams about what you might taste like, how smooth you’d be against him, the contrast of his ruined hands and your satin skin.

His cock throbs, sense and composure momentarily slipping away before he regains control.

The shadows sigh. Our beautiful girl. 

Stop calling her that. 

Why? She is beautiful. And she is ours. 

“Az!” Feyre is delighted, trying to wave him over. He’s always had a soft spot for his High Lady, endlessly impressed by her resilience, her love and commitment to both his brother and the Night Court, her kindness. “It’s been so long,” she teases as he slides into the seat at her left, pointedly ignoring Cassian’s smug expression.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy with work.”

“We miss you. You haven’t been at dinner in weeks.”

“It’s true,” Mor says softly at the other side of the table, brows creased in concern. He gives her a small, reassuring smile, one he hopes conveys the truth. It’s not your fault. She visibly relaxes.

“So, Az,” Cassian stretches, too big for the booth, arm coming around Nesta and tugging her close. “What brings you out this evening?” Fucking. Hel.

“I’ve missed you all.” It’s not a lie, not exactly, even if he’s been keeping his distance, it doesn’t change how he feels about his family, how he loves them in his own way. How it’s easier sometimes, to love others from afar, how envy has infected his lungs and every time he takes a breath, he wonders why the Cauldron chose not to give him what his brothers have. A bond. Love. 

At night, when he’s alone in his bed, he accepts the truth, the reality of being unworthy, of being a bastard, of being malevolent and repulsive. It was so easy with Mor, to long for someone so beautiful, so close to his heart but still unattainable, to dream of himself as a male one could love, could be proud of, a love who would choose him, again and again, even if it wasn’t true. Even if he knew for a long time, it would never be true. A fantasy like Mor is an easy escape from the nightmare in his head.

And Elain. Elain. A vision with big doe eyes and caramel hair, a beautiful girl whose life was lost, and a new, confusing one was born in its place.

A perfect obsession.

She too, was a dream. Something to cling in the longest hours of the night when sleep wouldn’t come.

But he was a monster, and he was undeserving.

Not true. 

Feyre catches his eye and gives him a warm, knowing look. “I’m happy to see you.”

“As I am you.”

You’re drunk.

He doesn’t need the shadows to confirm it, it’s clear from across the room. You teeter on the edge of the stool, giggling, radiant in the wash of dim lighting.

He’s not the only one who notices. Around you, other males watch from the corner of their eye, letting their gazes sweep from head to toe, lingering too long on your breasts, the curve of your waist. A male brushes his hand across your shoulder, another offers to buy you a drink. Rage curls in his stomach, jealously flooding his veins with vigor.

They’re touching her. The shadows are frustrated, hissing and snapping angrily, rattling around him like a black cloud.

I know.

His teeth might shatter from the amount of pressure coming from his clenched jaw.

The male following you out the side door at the end of your evening is the straw that snaps him in half. He abandons the table, his family, slipping away into the crowd as Feyre calls his name.

“Let him go.” Cassian rumbles on the last wind of a chuckle, and he loses the parting words as he pushes the door wide, cool Velaris air stinging his cheeks.

“No need to run off.” The male’s arm is slung around your waist, your face twisted into a sour swirl of intoxication and discomfort. Incendiary anger licks up his spine, flames violent and desperate to lash out. "Let's go back inside, have another drink." 

“No,” you straighten, but both Azriel and offending male catch the liquored wobble in your voice as you hold your jacket to your chest. “No, thank you.” He tugs you closer.

“Come on, I can-“ It’s all Azriel can stand. He’s gone in one moment and by your side the next, fingers digging into the male’s arm.

“She said no.” You look up into his face, eyes wide and unfocused, but he doesn’t miss the way you relax with relief, like you’re happy he’s here. Happy, an emotion rarely felt by those who encounter the Spymaster, happy like you’re soothed by his presence. It’s unfamiliar to him, just another suprise dealt by your hand. The male’s eyes go comically wide, blood draining from his face, sputtering something Azriel is deaf to. He's too focused on the pulse rapidly fluttering beneath your jaw. “Are you alright?”

“I’m… yes.” You lurch, half stepping back, half stumbling, and he steadies you. When you don't pull away, the shadows chirp. 

“You’re drunk.”

“Yup.” You punctuate the single syllable with a hiccup, inky tendrils curling around your wrist, petting, soothing. He braces for your fear, the uptick in your heartbeat, shallow respirations, but they don’t come.

You giggle instead.

The shadows preen and purr with glee. Our girl.

His shreds of control are slowly slipping away, deteriorating in your presence, and he lets the mask fall away to reveal a small smile. You suck in a sharp breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You nod rapidly, but your balance is still askew. “You’re too drunk to winnow.”

“I wasn’t going to. I live a few blocks that way.” You nod to the east and then pivot to the west, unsure. “Or that way. I’ll know once I get to the street.” He frowns.

“You’ll walk?”

“Well, yes. That’s what those of us do if we don’t have those.” You point at his wings, gaze lingering before you look away sheepishly.

“I’ll walk you.” You blink, surprised, confused, just as he is. The words were not planned, they appeared, conjured from the cold air, pushed from his mouth by some unknown force.

There’s a twist beneath his ribs, a small piece of him rapidly stretching and spreading, pulling him apart to make more room.

“What? I- I can walk fine, I’m fine.”

“It’s cold.” His voice is soft, softer than he’s ever heard, and it must be enough to quiet your protests, because you purse your lips and relent with a sigh.

“Alright then.”

It’s odd, to want to know another, to want to understand another outside his family. This throbbing ache, freshly blooming in your presence, is different compared to the festering desiderium he’s held for Mor, for Elain, the pining turned fetid, foul in its taste across his tongue, infatuation, obsession, anything to avoid focusing on the darkness constantly closing in around him, the black tar filling his lungs, drowning him. He was born, molded, embraced by the bleakest parts of this realm, and there’s not enough water in it to douse the rage and disgust burning in his soul. His people are monsters, and so shall he be. 

The shame of it all, punctuated by his infatuation with Elain, the necklace debacle, is fire in his veins, but the iridescent halo shining onto your shoulders from your porch light quells it somehow, gentles the heat. “How often do you visit the Middle?”

You give him a sheepish look. “Often, lately. I’ve lost my main supplier.” 

“Why is that?” The Sidra saturates the breeze, briny and sweet, teasing your dress into a flutter at your knees, his shadows hovering over your skin, craving to cloak you in their darkness, shield you from wandering eyes.

“Most of my plants and powders come from the Spring Court, and I can’t really afford the… inflation.” Inflation is a polite way to put it. Tensions between Spring and Night have resulted in rising costs of goods, and total derailment of trade in some cases.

She’s worried her words offend you. 

“That’s understandable.” He tames his voice, and your shoulders relax by a fraction. “Still, it is a long way from home, if anything were to happen.” An understatement. The Middle holds horrors most cannot comprehend, wicked creatures that would love nothing more than to prey on and devour something as lovely as you. He still cannot wrap his head around the fact that you frequent it in the first place. Even the bravest, strongest of Prythian do not. 

“I can handle myself.”  He wants to protest, wants to ask if you truly know what lurks in there. “Mostly.” You add as an afterthought, little hiccup, little giggle, fingers fumbling for the door handle. The hair on the back of his neck stands stiff.

“Mostly?”

“It’s not like I haven’t run into trouble,” you’re vague, shrugging it off, and his gut clenches.

“What kind of trouble?” The breeze turns to wind that whips, cold with the sting of frost. 

And then you roll your eyes.

It’s so… bratty. His wings twitch, lightning rolling through membrane like a storm on the sea.

Wild one, the shadows chirp.

Too wild, maybe. “How old are you?” You lift your chin with a sniff.

“One hundred and two.” So young. 

The High Lady just turned twenty-three, the shadows remind him drily.

Fair.

“So… did you walk me all the way home to hold me hostage on my front step in the cold?” His laugh is a surprise. It comes deep from his chest, a genuine rumble in his ribs, more authentic than the half smiles and nods he’s been giving others for years.

“If I was holding you hostage, you’d know.” He murmurs, stepping into your space, tracking the dilation of your pupils, the quiver in your bottom lip. Normally, these reactions would insinuate fear, but you don’t smell of it. You smell like desire, like you’d succumb to him, bend for him, arch for him. “Are you cold?” Goosebumps erupt across your shoulders and down your arms, and he dips close, closer than he has any right to. He has no right to you. No right to such a strange, beautiful creature, a mystery by all standards. He who deals in death, who poisons all he touches, would stain you. He'd drag his scarred, marbled fingers under your silk dress and taint you. 

“Y-yes.” He catches the scent then, the damp foliage from fresh rain crushed under heel, soaked moss at the roots of an ancient tree. It jolts him back to reality, mask settling into its rightful place across his face.

“What are you?”

“What?”

“You’re High Fae… but there’s something else.” Hesitance flickers in your eyes, and you pull away, creating distance. Good. He needs it. You confuse him, cloud his judgement, sowing uncertainty he’s not used to.

And every time he looks at you, his chest aches.

“Nothing important.” He cocks his head.

“Is that so?” You shrug.

“I’m a half-breed.” He hides his disgust at the term, but it doesn’t change the rage it ignites, the disdain.

“Half what?”

She barely knows you; she has no reason to trust you, the shadows sulk, unhappy with the turn of events as you take the last stair and open your door, turning to for one last look at him. 

“I’m not a threat, Azriel.”

Truth. 

“Any news?”

“No.” The silence is long suffering, and after he offers nothing further, Rhys sighs.

“Azriel-“

“I have work in Dawn this coming week, leaving tomorrow. I expect to be gone for a full seven, even eight days. I’ll report back once I’m home.”

“Okay.” Azriel’s shield is wall of shadow impenetrable by most, and even though the relationship between them is strained, his brother would never force his way into his mind.

If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.  Or maybe be would. 

He was given an order; orders are meant to be followed, something Rhys’ own father instilled in him early on, and though it's been months, it's still too bitter in the back of his throat. Rhys’ father ordered him. Often. Treated him as one would treat an object to be used, a weapon to wield. Azriel was defined by the shadows, for his usefulness, not for who he truly was. 

He had never been on the receiving end of this manner of treatment from Rhys, and he could not deny that he had trouble stomaching it. 

“Where have you been staying? Your townhouse?” He schools his features, smothering the annoyance at what he knows must be common conversation between his brothers.

They’re worried about you. Cassian misses you at the House of Wind. 

We’ve cohabited for over five hundred years; some distance is not going kill him. 

“Yes, wanted to give Cass and Nesta some space.” The lie is as flimsy as they come, because he doesn’t care. He needs space. “They’re quite loud.” That isn’t a lie, at least. Rhys studies him.

“Where are you, Az?” It's not a literal question. He and his brother share many things, but the strongest strings are knotted tight around each other’s darkness, bonds forged in agony, in rage, in revenge. There are parts, pieces of each other that match, heinous, wrathful pieces hidden away but never healed. When Rhys asks where he is, it’s to know how deep he is in the gloom that never leaves.

“I’m here.” It’s short, be he cannot give anything more. Cannot give more to the High Lord, Rhys, his brother, the one he has given everything to. The one he has been most loyal to above all. The one who would treat him now, as his father did. 

He pities Rhys, in a way, something he’s never held for him in the past, but now… now is different. Rhys is different, his stakes have never been higher. A mate, a son, a realm on his shoulders, he's struggling, in his own way, and the collected High Lord is few and far between these days, in his place a reactive, high-strung male he doesn’t always recognize. He’s not sure Rhys recognizes himself either. 

“You won’t get too far?” At the root of it, no matter how turbulent this time between them may be, the bond of brotherhood is the strongest of them all, holds them fast to one another, keeps them close, even if one strays.

And so, Azriel assures him, the words gritted through his teeth. His rage is a tangible thing, a living breathing thing but no matter how angry he may be, Rhys is still his brother, even in these iterations. The realm changes, scales tipping back and forth, but the brothers remain steadfast through times of peace and battle.  “I won’t.”

He’s to leave for Dawn this afternoon, but for some reason, he finds himself at Moonflower’s front door.

It’s early, half of Velaris still waking up, and the shop is clearly closed, though it doesn’t matter to him. He knows you’re here, sodden gorse and peeled bark drifting on the morning breeze from a large back window. For some unknown reason, it soothes him to know it, to be able to account for your whereabouts.

He pulled his shadows back from surveillance, convinced he would leave you alone, let this rest-

but he still flew here this morning.

It bothers him, this magnetism, the draw towards your presence.

You’re a mystery needing to be solved, that’s all.

“Shadowsinger,” your head cocks. “What brings you here so early?”

“I wanted to ensure you won’t be visiting the Middle this week.” Your brows knit together.

“I uh… no. I won’t need to go for another two weeks, I think.”

“I’ll accompany you next time.” His patience with this situation is wearing thin, but his agitation with himself spills out onto you. 

“That’s not-“

“It’s not a request. You’re endangering the Night Court.” You smother a flinch.

“I’m not, I swear, I’d never do anything to hurt anyone.”

“That remains to be seen.” He’s the Spymaster now, cold and unfeeling, but you’re still not scared. “Your refusal to disclose what makes up the other part of the half-breed in you is reason enough.” He uses the term as a weapon, and it hits his target, as always. Azriel never misses. You wince, glancing down at the floor, shoulders slumping a tad before you right yourself. The barb stings because like Rhys, like Mor’s mother and countless others, you’ve faced the abuse, the vitriol, the torment from those who would crush you beneath their feet if they could.

It hurts, a whip lashing across his cheek, bleeding him for the pain he’s causing you. A consequence, another mark on his soul. You lift your face again, the emotion gone, and you nod.

“Okay then.” An overwhelming urge to reach for you comes over him, to tug you into his chest and shield you with his wings, hide you away from all the ugly, terrifying things in this world-

Including himself.

He shoves it to the side, buries it where it belongs, where the light doesn't touch, and nods. “I’ll be away this week but when I return, I’ll come by.”

He doesn’t say goodbye, and smothers the urge to get one last glimpse of you, even though he wants to. 

There’s dirt beneath your fingernails.

You’ve been digging around in the same riverbed for almost an hour now, rifling through rocks and silt, bottom half of your body soaked and muddy, again. “There we are,” you murmur plucking an iridescent onyx stone from the marl and placing it in your bag. 

He has… so many questions.

And he’s afraid to admit to himself he finds you… enchanting. Clever, beautiful, kind. He wants more, wants to soak you up, dance to the harmony of your voice.

Ask, the shadows encourage. Talk to her.

He’s been standing on the bank a few paces away for some time now, leaving you to your foraging, but never letting you get too far away. You haven’t said more than ten words to him, and he hasn’t pushed you. The disgrace of the last time the two of you spoke still weighs heavily on his shoulders, another tally in a long list of transgressions. 

Try. 

“How does it work?” Your head snaps up.

“What do you mean?”

“Your work. Moonflower sells elixirs and potions, but they’re an apothecary, and you’re an alchemist.”

“Well, I am an apothecary too. Contraceptive tea doesn’t make itself,” you give him a mischievous smile before turning serious. “Magic binds better to precious metals. I transmute and mix them together, then pair them with salts or chemical compounds found in herbs and plants. One complements or enhances the other.”

“You’re putting metal in them?” You shake your head.

“No, I extract the minerals from the metal after transmutation and infuse the elixirs. I can make everything from contraceptive tea to…” You trail off, lips pressing into a thin line.

“To?”

“Poison. Faebane.” He hears your heart flutter, pulse ratcheting upward as you give him a cautious look, and every muscle in his body tenses.

“Who do you make it for?”

“I’m not sure, I received an ongoing order request signed and sealed by the High Lord years ago, and I’ve been producing it ever since.” You stand, brushing your hands off on your thighs, mud caked in the lines of your palms, head tipped back to peer at him. “It’s picked up by one of the Wraith sisters each month.”

Does she know? The shadows don’t answer.

“I like them,” you continue, making your way up the bank, “Cerridwen even gifted me a hooded shawl last Solstice. It’s beautiful. I wear it often.”

“I see.”

“I think the Faebane is for the Spymaster,” you peek at him coyly, mouth quirked to the side in a small smile. “Who is also the Shadowsinger, right?” He fights to his expression neutral. 

“You know.”

Of course she does. Our sweet is very clever. 

“I thought… maybe. I wasn’t sure.” He’s beginning to worry about your instincts. First, he discovers you’re spending time out here in the Middle, alone, and now, he learns you’ve suspected he’s the Spymaster, Rhys’ torturer, this whole time.

“It doesn’t concern you?” He blurts, incredulous. You should fear him. You should be terrified and disgusted. You should be smart enough to recognize his rotten, tainted soul.

“No. I make poison, after all.” You shrug. “I don’t make judgements of others.” Guilt twists like a knife.

“What I said the other day, about being a half-breed…” You wave your hand, trying to brush him off.

“It’s fine.”

It’s not, the shadows hiss. You hurt her.

He pulls up short, turning to face you. “It was cruel, and I am sorry for it.” He’s locked in your gaze, the rest of the woods, this place, Prythian disappearing as he loses himself in you. He hears it again, the mellifluous harmony of a grand orchestra, notes and chords playing together in an intoxicating paragon, richer, more potent than any wine, each one building upon the other, creating a song that draws him in, urges him to reach for you, cup your face and hold you there so he can memorize every refraction of light in the kaleidoscope of your eyes. “I-“

“It’s okay,” your hand brushes his, and he tenses, preparing for the recoil, the disgust, but it never comes. Your touch is gentle, fingers slipping between his, silk on scars sliding together seamlessly. He wants to push you away, wants to tell you not to touch him because you’ll dirty yourself. He’s a monster and you’re something else, something winsome and full of wonder, something not for him. “I forgive you.” You forgive him. He almost laughs at the absurdity. Forgiveness, as if that’s something he could ever earn, as if there was a way to seek and find it. As if he even wants it.

From many it would mean nothing but from you… it’s different. It's a balm, cool water over a burn, sunlight shining down on him in a dungeon. 

You don’t look away, and you don’t let go. You hold him there, in front of you, gentle and patient, but unyielding. The throbbing ache that’s become ever present beneath his ribs grows, and it drags him close, a magnetic pull he can’t fly away from leading him straight to you. It’s a power strong enough it could bring him to his knees at your feet, his entire existence whittling down to the sound of your breathing as he carefully cradles your face.

“Azriel,” your whisper is music, heartbreakingly beautiful, a hauntingly familiar melody he may have been hearing all his life and had been none the wiser to. A siren's song on the sea. Captivating. Intoxicating. He strokes his thumb across your cheek and falls away into it, pressing his mouth to yours, drinking you in. The kiss is careful at first, a delicate question posed between two with one waiting for an answer, and when it comes, it comes with a symphony, ambrosian and endless, unleashing a warmth unlike he’s ever felt through his chest.  He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be marring you like this, staining you, but he cannot stop, and when you tug him close, lips parting to allow his tongue past your teeth and find yours, you cling to him, the purr of a whimper building in your throat. 

What is he doing? He's snapped out of the spell. Your throat bobs with a swallow, and you turn your attention to your bag, mindlessly fidgeting with the collection of flora and rock in the bottom, avoiding his eyes. Embarrassed. Shamed by him, rejected by him. 

No! the shadows lament. “We should keep going, if you have more things to find?” You nod, looking past him towards the woods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Your dagger is loud, by the way.” It's the first thing you've said in thirty minutes, and it's strange, like you. 

“What?”

“The dagger,” you motion to where Truth-Teller is strapped to his thigh, “it’s magic is loud. I can’t imagine what I’d find if I-“ Something cracks in the woods to the north, far enough away to echo, close enough to raise his hackles, spread his wings, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into his side. The forest groans, turning malicious, wicked power crawling through the brush towards the river.

Leave. He curls a wing around you as a shield.

“What-“

“We’re leaving.” There have been lesson learned here, too many times, and he’s not about to risk you. He conjures a pocket, a corner of star flecked shadow, and tugs you into it, leaving the Middle behind.

He decides to sleep at the House of Wind.

It’s a shield, a technique to combat his desire to be close you. If he’s close to Cassian, to Nesta, if he’s here, he’s not there, with you, where he dropped you off at your doorstep, where the two of you lingered before you disappeared into the house. He’s not battling his instincts, his need to sit on the roof and keep watch.

He’s here instead. Where he should be.

Cassian grins from his spot on the couch at the sight of him, Nesta casually looking up from her book. “Out with your witch again?” He pulls up short, blood turning frigid, freezing through the veins in his wings all the way to his heart. “You didn’t know?” Cassian’s head swings towards her.

“I thought we discussed waiting for proof, Nes.” Azriel shoots him a murderous glare.

“Having discussions about my life, then?” It’s a small rock in an ocean at this moment, but it adds fuel to the roaring fire of rage curdling his stomach. Nesta raises an eyebrow. 

“No,” his brother protests, “I thought- Nesta suspected something, but I didn’t want to tell you until we knew without a doubt.” He emphasizes the last few words, and she shrugs.

“She’s a witch, or at least, partially. The power is unmistakable. She has that smell, too. Old trees.” She's lost for a second, in a memory, silver fire crackling and then gone, and he knows she knows, where you've been, where he's followed. You don't just smell of old trees, you smell like the Middle.

The shadows coil around his shoulders, peeking out at Nesta like she’s personally offended them.

It’s not what you think. 

You knew? And kept this from me? 

He’s rarely, if ever, is so irascible, but this information ignites an anger so fierce his siphons hiss and glow cobalt blue, power straining against his control, desperate to be unleashed.

“What are you going to do?” Cassian shouts at his retreating back, and he caresses Truth-Teller’s hilt.

“Find out for myself.”

Your words pound in his head like a drum.

“The magic is stronger. It’s hard to explain…”

“Oh, I don’t have problems here. I never travel too far from the boundary.”

His mind spins as he flies through the night, shooting across the sky fast enough for the wind to prickle at his cheeks. A witch. 

Witches are dangerous creatures. They’re power hungry, desperate to collect as much magic as this realm will allow, and then use it as they see fit, whether it be for good deeds, or evil ones. This unpredictability combined with their thirst for young blood, a compulsion fueled by the corrupted core of their stolen magic, makes them a threat.

Makes you a threat.

Your house is small, but comfortable. A narrow townhome nestled in a row of others with wide plank wooden floors and variations of dark colored paint on the walls, cozy and calm. Bookshelves overflowing, large worn velvet couch, bundles of herbs on your living room table, in your kitchen. You have an assortment of mugs, mismatched wine glasses and china, clothes haphazardly draped over chairs. To someone who doesn’t know you, it would seem messy, but to him, it’s fitting. It makes sense.

It's the only thing that makes sense in this moment. The rest of it, his ignorance, the disobedience of the shadows, his blindness, all bear down upon him. He failed to recognize a threat to this Court, his family, he allowed himself to be distracted, again, by a female, he succumbed to an enchantment, a bewitching. The strange pull he felt towards you, the music in his head, the throbbing behind his ribs, all a spell set upon him, by you.

You’re stunning in your sleep. Wrapped in sweet dreams, lashes feathered against your skin, rolled onto your side. You’re only wearing a nightshirt and underwear, the curve of your hip visible from where your sheets are half kicked off. Lovely.

He lets you linger in a last moment of peace. If you wake before he’s ready, he doesn’t know what magic he’ll face, what creature he’ll truly encounter, and he wants to hold onto to this, to you, before it all changes.

He brushes your cheek with the backs of his fingers and that thing inside him weeps, something agonizing trying to claw its way forward, but he buries it deep.

By the time you’re awake, it’s too late.

“Azriel?” Your voice is weak, confused, and you blink blearily at your surroundings, stone wall, stone floor, small light at the roof of the chamber that’s too far away. He keeps the space lit by fae lights instead, flickering and low, illuminating the space just enough to see him, and a table in the corner.

You're trapped in Faebane cuffs and chained to the floor. Fragile, weakened by your own creation. 

When you become fully aware of your surroundings, you thrash, fear thundering in your heart. “What is this?”

“Thought you might like to see how the product of your hard work is used.” You tug at the cuffs to no avail, and then look up at him with eyes so sad, so frightened, it stops him in his tracks.

Why does this feel so wrong? 

Think, Shadowsinger. The shadows beg but he banishes them, still enraged by their betrayal.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” He shrugs. Casual indifference, cold regard. The Spymaster, the torturer.

“No?”

“I haven’t done anything, I haven’t, I swear.” He bends shadow over your eyes, marring your sight, plunging you into darkness and you gasp, twisting and turning, looking for the light you won’t find. “S-stop.”

“You’ve been keeping something from me, haven’t you, little half-breed?” He mocks you with it, drenches it in disdain, and you shake your head weakly.

“I haven’t… I swear, I ju-just wasn’t ready-“

“To tell me you’re a witch?”

“I’m not!” You cry, and he covers your mouth with insidious tendrils, cutting off your airway. You can’t see, you can’t breathe, and your panic is ripe, flooding the room, its acrid scent making him nauseous.

The gag holds for a minute or two, and when he releases, you slump over, gasping. Truth-Teller burns in his hold.

“Tell the truth, and it’s over.” Please.

“There’s n-nothing to tell.” Frustrations mounts and he cuts you off, this time for longer, long enough he registers the slowing of your heart, the lack of tone in your muscles. Shadows wrap around your throat, pressing on your windpipe so hard you’re whistling, slow leak of air turned tea kettle as you try to breathe.

He allows you a moment, and then resumes, pushing you to the edge, walking a slow, measured circle around you like a wolf stalking prey. There’s a pull deep inside him, something tugging at him, a desperate plea he does not understand.

Please. Stop this. 

He releases, you relent. Finally. “It’s my mother,” you rasp, tongue darting out to lick your lips, “she- it was her. She was a witch, and my father is Hi-gh Fae. He had an affair, and then banished her to the Middle. It’s wh-where I was born. Everyone would b-be so afraid of me if they knew, but I’m not- I’m not a witch. I’m ju-ust a half-breed." You’re sobbing now, each heave increasing the agony inside him, broken, raw sound echoing throughout the chamber. His mother’s face flashes in his mind and his stomach flips as he breaks out in a cold sweat. “I use that side of my to make things. Th-the alchemy, that’s all it’s good for. It’s not even that strong, I swear.”

Truth. 

It’s all truth. Every word. Every broken, desperate, frightened word.

He is a fool. 

He pulls the shadows from your face and you stare at the floor, small against the stone until you finally look up at him, cheeks soaked, eyes-

Something snaps.

Threads of brilliant cobalt blue spin from him, each string plucked in celestial succession to create perfect harmony, and the shadows sing. They sing for you, they sing to you, they sing the song he should have known all along. They sing of the path laid before him, the bridge that would carry him to you, the chords and notes coming together in a crescendo of souls, a blazing bond sealed by fate.

Mates. 

The threads stretch and strain, the music rising, but your side, your part, is missing. It’s dark, thickened by bramble and bracken, sharps and flats, lost to him in this moment.

This moment, where he has broken you. Tortured you.

He feels it all. Your terror, the agony. The sense of hopelessness overflowing and soaking the threads. 

“I-“ He falls to his knees, shadows twisting around the cuffs to unlock them, “I’m sorry.” You’re trembling, curling in on yourself and he wants so badly to pull you into his arms, to hold you close, wrap himself around you and beg for forgiveness. He wants to promise he’ll protect you; he’ll care for you; he’ll keep you safe. He’ll be worthy of you. He’ll fix this.

But how can he after what has been done. After what he has done. 

“I w-want to go ho-ome.” The words are covered by sobs, and his hands shake as he gently takes hold of your shoulders, pulling you out of the dungeon and back into your bedroom.

He stands there, helpless and lost as you crawl away from him into your bathroom, the handle locking with a resounding click. The bond is alive and open on his side, your distress and fear and despair radiating down into Azriel, the strength of your emotions ripping him apart.

You don’t want him here, that much is clear.

Cassian is still awake when he returns, and his brother ripples with shock at the sight of him.

He knows how he looks.

Crazed. Devastated. Possessed.

“What happened?” He lurches forward, still dressed from evening training, siphons gleaming, scanning for a threat, a fight, a reason for Azriel’s agony.

He’ll find none. Only Azriel is responsible for this horror.

As always. 

“She…” He can’t say it, can’t force the words. Can’t accept the truth, the terrible, painful truth. “She’s mine.” The blood drains from Cassian’s face. “She’s mine.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“I- I didn’t… I didn’t get very far but I still… I still-“ He chokes on it. “She was so scared, Cass. She never… she was never afraid of me; from the day we met. She always, she looked at me differently. She trusted me. She… held my hand.” Cassian’s eyes slipped close. When they reopen, they’re determined. Strong.

“You’ll fix it. I know you will.” Azriel doesn’t hear him.

“I don’t deserve her, or this bond. When she realizes, she will sever it, and she’ll be right to. I have never been worthy, and the Mother knows. That’s why this happened.”

“That is not true. You made a mistake, and you were trying to protect your family, your court. She will understand… in time.”

“How?! How could anyone understand this? Excuse it?” He yells, and a door down the hall opens, Nesta appearing in the room, sharp and assessing.

“What’s going on?”

“Go back to bed,” Cassian growls, and though she glares, she listens. “Az, listen to me. It will be alright. You can fix this, you can.”

“I don’t know how.”

“You will figure it out, and we will support you, we’ll help in any way we can. It will be okay.”

“She will never forgive me.”

“And you’ll never know that until you try.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair and then fisting it at his side. “This is Nesta’s fault.”

“Cassian,” Azriel snaps, patience shredded. “Not everything is your mate’s fault, for fucks sake. Stop projecting your guilt over your own transgressions onto Nesta. I’m sick of it.” Silence falls between the brothers, and after a long moment, Cassian nods.

“I deserved that,” he eyes him cautiously, “what do you want to do?” He needs silence. Solitude. Cassian knows, but he’ll still say it out loud, if only to make it clear. Don’t follow me. Don’t send others to check on me. 

“I need to be alone."

[clrasecretdiary]

Oh no, i love him | Spencer reid x Bestfriend! Fem! Reader

pure fluff

u can find part.2 here!!

content: Spencer is flirty (:o shocking, i knowww), Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (down bad for this.), Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone, Penelope interrupts them, but it's fine because she's a princess.

a/n: heavily based on my need to bury my head in Spencer's chest at any minor inconvenience.

Ever since you joined the team, you always seemed to gravitate towards Spencer. He made you feel so comfortable, so seen. Naturally you two developed a friendship, now best friends, joined at the hip, never to be seen apart from the other. 

To anyone seeing from the outside it was clear the other feelings between you two, the tension, the stolen glances. At this point, you two acted as a married couple, but still pretended to only see each other as friends. 

-

You could not sleep, having nightmares the whole night flashes of Spencer lying down, bleeding going through your mind, images so clear you almost thought it was reality. The current case the team is working on is keeping you awake. This unsub, for a still unknown reason, has been targeting Spencer and you guys cannot get to the reason why.

You get in the office early, settling your things down at your table and heading to the kitchen. You catch yourself preparing two coffees, one with an ungodly amount of sugar and the other black. Right on cue, Spencer gets in the office. 

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?" 

"Good morning Spence, and you already know it, horrible" You say, handing him the coffee as he places a kiss on your cheek, and you try not to blush – you hoped to master that hence the amount of times you'd have to do it when you're next to him but no he always found new ways to make you blush and stumble at your words like a teenage girl with a crush. 

"What bothers that pretty mind of yours" He says, taking a sip of his coffee and opening a small smile, noticing how you always remember how he likes it. 

"It's this fucking case, it's been 2 weeks, and we can't figure it out, the MO is all over the place, and now he's targeting you… It's just… I'm worried" you say, getting close to Spencer and putting your head to his chest as you often did when the world just got too much  "we need to find this fucking guy" your voice coming out muffled against his cardigan. 

"We will catch him, it's only a matter of time, honey. You don't need to worry, ok? I'll be fine, we will be fine." He says, grabbing your chin and making you look up, making sure you're looking at his eyes while he says that. 

"If you ever die, i'll kill you. Be aware of that Spencer Reid" You say in a fake serious tone

Spencer puts his arms around your waist, making you two be even closer now  

"Oh, i wouldn't dare to do that"  he says giggling and placing a strand of your hair behind your ear 

There's a lingering moment of silence, you two just stand there, the closest you've ever been just… looking at each other. Being this close to him, you can see all the hues of brown in those beautiful eyes of his. And almost as if there's this gravitational force, you two start to get closer 

"Hey guys, i saw you getting in is there any coffe lef-" Garcia enters the office kitchen, scaring you both to opposite sides of the space 

"Yeah there's um.. Some left there i think" You say, face burning with the embarrassment

"We're you two…" She says, pointing between you and reid 

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer gives her a death glare 

"Alright! … I'm just going to pour up some coffee and be out!" Penelope says rushing to get out

"Derek Morgan, you will not believe what a just saw" You can hear her saying as soon as she steps out of the kitchen, and you two can't help but burst into laughter 

"Well, i better go now, a lot of files. And um bad guys and stuff" 

"Yeah, me too" Spencer says, also blushing.  

You rush out the kitchen and as you walk over to your desk, a realization hits you 

"Oh shit,

Oh shit. I'm in love with him"

You think to yourself, realizing there's no way you can deny the feelings anymore. 

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

[urfavlarry]

heyyy could you please write a joost x fem! reader fic where the reader too is slightly famous, and she and joost have been SECRETLY dating for a year but no one knew it, so it comes as a big shock to everyone when they find out through either a paparazzi or leaked photo online or through an accidental giveaway of it during an interview <33

Red handed

Joost Klein x fem!reader

A/N: istg this is so bad but I hope you like this lmao and sorry if its short :,)

warnings: swearing, not proof read

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You scrolled through your phone, eyes wide and millions of thoughts were going through your head. You and Joost were currently miles apart, you having to leave for a family vacation you looked forward to the whole year. Joost like the gentleman he was accompanied you to the airport, helping you with everything and chatting with your family. When the time of the departure came, Joost pulled you into one last embrace before going your own ways. The first few days were wonderful. You enjoyed yourself on the beach, some fans recognising you which made you so so happy to be known all over the world. Like I said before, you were having a wonderful time until now. You stumbled upon a photo that was shared by an unknown user, already having thousands of views of you and Joost at the airport. You never really experienced paparazzi, only a small amount but not to the point people leaked photos of you when you were just walking across the street to the grocery store like they do to some celebrities.

———————————————————

user77220096543

@user77220096543

Joost Klein and Y/N L/N at the Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam this Monday morning.

Liked by loverboyz, y/n4life and 89,689 others

@user74320531 and 76.5K others commented

user555: new ship?

maxxinerivera: yall are some stalkers let them live tf

joostkleinswife: joost can do better then that

╰┈➤ midnightsxlover replied to joostkleinswife: too real

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Joost knew about the photo, already messaging you if you’re okay, reassuring you everything will be okay and that you would work things out. It wouldn’t even bother you that people knew about your relationship, you weren’t ashamed of Joost and would show him off proudly but some fans were too much to handle. Most people sent the both of you death threats but you chose to ignore them. Why should they decide who you love?

After getting back home to The Netherlands you got greeted by Joost waiting for you, the place being crowded from all the crazy fan girls trying to take photos of you two together or yell congratulating and kinds things to you which you dearly appreciated. It was something you expected, you were bound to get caught someday and it was really a miracle you kept it a secret for a little over a year. Joost picked you up and spinned you around, kissing you on the forehead making all the fans cheer. Your face felt hot, holding onto Joosts hand which he gladly squeezed as reassurance. The both of you walked out of the airport hand in hand Joost getting in to the taxi with you and went to your shared home.

It felt nice to be home, calming even. Joost picked you up making you wrap your legs around his waist, walking with you to your bedroom. He layed you down gently before getting on top of you, caging you with his weight. “Joost.. come on I didn’t even unpack.” “That can wait, are you okay tho? With all those people knowing about us?” You thought about it for a few minutes, your hand in Joosts soft blonde hair. You shrugged slightly, making Joost look up at you. “If anyone is bothering you I have no problem speaking up about it. You know I love you with my whole heart mijn liefde.” (my love) “I know, I know. It’s just a bit overwhelming but I expected it to happen some day I mean the media is crazy soo.. I’m okay with people knowing.” Joost smiled lovingly at you, kissing your cheek, then mouth. The kiss was quick but sweet, making your stomach erupt with butterflies and cheeks feel hot. You stare at his adorable face, his soft smile making your day a hundred times better like it usually did.

You went on to show each other off, Joost always having a hand on your waist or even just holding onto your arm like a lost child meanwhile you posted things with you two together happily, showing up at his concerts more often sometimes singing your own songs to open up Joosts concerts which you loved doing. People saw you guys as THE couple, everyone cheering, clapping, yelling during concerts when you ended the concert with one last bow and hug with your partner. It truly made you happy how people supported you through and through, some defending you when you got hate online which you after some time chose to ignore. Joost was more than happy to bring you to every event possible, even when he got to perform for Eurovision that same year, you were there for every pre-party and after-party, performance ect. even after his disqualification you never left his side.

Now you were on one of your friends tour, Bambie to be exact as an opener along with Joost. It was fun, the atmosphere being a lot different from your usual concerts which you welcomed with open arms. At the end of the concert the crowd screamed for more, so all you three looked at each other with smirks, performing a song you three worked on just a few months back. It had a mix of all your three singing styles you and Joost popping in a few phrases in your mother tongue. It made the crowd cheer, some booing which was expected but you didn’t care, having fun with your favourite people. At the end of the show, you looked at the crowd, realisation hitting you of how many people you influenced and how many people supported you. Joost grabbed your waist, kissing you on the cheek while Bambie started clapping making the crowd do the same. Maybe putting yourself out there wasn’t so bad after all.

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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The door slides open to reveal two students, a girl and a boy, sitting around a table while they eat their lunches. Itadori steps inside, still grinning widely, and their heads turn at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, guys! I just dropped by for lunch, if that’s okay. Oh, and I brought a friend! This is [Name],” he happily introduces. 

You’re too stunned by the fact that he just referred to you as his friend to process much else, and by that point, the two students have already stood up. 

“It’s nice to meet you, [Name],” the girl greets with a smile. “I’m Sasaki, a second-year.” 

“And I’m Iguchi, also a second-year,” the boy chimes in. 

Needless to say, you already know who they are, too. Even though it was indirect on their part, they’re largely the reason why Itadori ends up at Jujutsu High, thanks to the fateful events of a certain night spent on school grounds. 

At this point in time, Itadori has yet to give them Sukuna’s finger. You’re not sure exactly when it’ll happen, but there will probably be some warning signs, like Fushiguro showing up on campus to look for it. 

Still, for obvious reasons, you feel like you shouldn’t get too involved with these two. The plot is going to proceed normally, as it should. You’re worried that something might go wrong with your interference. It’s probably best if you keep your distance, and—

“Would you like to join the Occult Research Club?!” 

“...” 

Yeah, you probably should’ve expected that. 

Itadori laughs. “Come on, guys. I didn’t bring her here to try and recruit her. I just wanted to introduce all three of you! I’m not sure if [Name]’s into that kind of stuff, anyways. It’s not really everyone’s thing.” 

“It’s true,” you nod. “I’m, uh, not that great with scary stuff…” 

“There’s nothing scary about the paranormal!” Sasaki insists. “It��s just interesting! Mysterious! Imagine what could be out there! Don’t you have a thirst for the unknown?” 

It’s precisely because I do know what’s out there that I’m scared…

“Sasaki, you’re coming on way too strong,” Iguchi chides. He turns to offer you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We just can’t help but get excited when new people show up to our club room, but we know this kind of thing can’t be forced. You two are more than welcome to stay here during lunch.”

To some extent, you can’t help but feel a bit bad, because you know how passionate they are, and soon, Itadori won’t be around to keep them company anymore. He has no choice but to go to Jujutsu High. It’s his fate as the protagonist of this world. 

You know you can’t possibly be a substitute for someone as irreplaceable as Itadori, but once all the craziness with Sukuna’s finger passes, you’d be happy to be their friend, if they’ll have you.

“Ooh, your lunch looks really good, [Name],” Itadori remarks once you sit down and unpack your bento box.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’ve been cooking for a while. My mom cooks too, but I just got used to making food for myself. The process helps me take my mind off things. It’s kind of therapeutic, in a way.” 

Seeing as being sucked into a fictional world is kind of—or rather, really fucking insane, it’s safe to say that you cooked up a storm when you got home yesterday. You packed up most of the leftovers for lunch today, so the food didn’t go to waste, but still. You ended up emptying a good portion of the fridge.

Itadori takes a big bite out of his onigiri, but he keeps eyeing your lunch all the while, so you chuckle and push the bento box closer to him.

“Go ahead,” you encourage. “You can have some if you want.” 

“Can I really?” he blinks, a few pieces of rice stuck to his cheek. It’s kind of ridiculous how adorable this guy is. You have the sudden urge to pull him into your arms and give him a big squeeze, but mercifully, your intrusive thoughts don’t win. 

“Of course. I packed plenty, so I can afford to share.”

“Oh—wait, but earlier, I was saying that I’d be the one to treat you! I can’t just eat your lunch! I still owe you big-time for what I did to you!” 

Itadori firmly shakes his head in refusal, then crosses his arms and makes an attempt at what you can only assume is meant to be a stern expression. But again, he’s so ridiculously cute that it’s a bit hard to take him seriously. 

Sasaki arches a brow. “What did you do to her?” 

“I, uh, may have hit her in the face with a soccer ball,” Itadori replies, shamefully shrinking in on himself.

He is literally baby. 

“Why would you do that?” Iguchi gapes. “Come to think of it, her nose is a little bruised…” 

“It obviously wasn’t on purpose!” Itadori protests. He turns towards you with an imploring expression. “[Name], I promise it wasn’t on purpose. I swear I would never do something like that!” 

You chuckle softly. “I know you wouldn’t. You definitely don’t seem like that kind of guy.”

Itadori lets out a sigh of relief and resumes munching on his onigiri. Meanwhile, Sasaki stares at you from across the table. 

“So… [Name],” she says. “You’re a first-year like Itadori, I’m assuming?” 

“Yep.” 

“I’ve never really seen you around.” 

“I’m a new student. I only just transferred in.” 

She pauses for a few moments, and you can see her eyes glistening with excitement. “So, that must mean you haven’t joined any clubs yet, right?” 

“Sasaki, not this again,” Iguchi sighs. 

“I’m telling you! Not everyone is drawn to the occult right away. It takes trial and error to figure out if it’s something you’re actually interested in. I’m not saying she has to join our club or anything. But while she’s here, she should at least dip her toes in, right?” 

Before Iguchi can protest on your behalf again, Sasaki grabs a large board from one of the bookshelves and turns towards you with a mischievous grin. 

“...you’ve heard of Kokkuri, right?” 

After school, Itadori stops by your classroom. 

“Hey, [Name],” he beams. “Thanks for hanging out with all of us during lunch. It was a lot of fun. Hopefully that game of Kokkuri didn’t freak you out too much.”

“I had fun too,” you nod. Truthfully, you’ve never really been fazed by this kind of stuff. Horror movies and the like don’t often get much of a reaction out of you. You never bought into ghosts or vengeful spirits. Well, not in the real world at least.

Unfortunately, in this world, there’s plenty of freaky shit to go around. 

“It means a lot to those guys,” Itadori says, a tinge of sadness to his smile. “We’re the only people in the school that seem to have an interest in the occult. I signed up for it because I thought it’d be fun, but we just barely meet the three-member minimum. Thanks for going along with it to make them happy, even if it’s not really your kind of thing.” 

“There’s no need to thank me. I know I said I wasn’t crazy about scary stuff, but I actually ended up having a good time. I’m glad you invited me to hang out with you guys,” you smile. 

Itadori returns your smile with one of his own—seriously, he’s almost always smiling, but you certainly don’t mind—and before you realize it, a phone has been placed into your hand. 

You blink. “What’s this?” 

“My phone,” Itadori replies, still smiling.

“Um, I mean, I know that, but why’d you give it to me?” 

“So you can give me your number. That way it’ll be easier for us to stay in touch!” He pauses, just for a moment, to frown. “Oh, but I guess I should’ve asked if you were okay with it first. I got a little ahead of myself. Would it be cool if we exchanged numbers?” 

Abso-fucking-lutely! 

By some miracle, you manage to reign in your excitement, and instead of hardcore fangirling and squealing out at the top of your lungs, you just nod. 

“Sure thing,” you say, trying to play it cool. Still, despite your best efforts to act indifferent, your fingers are trembling as you pull out your own phone and refer to the number you have saved in a notes app (because you definitely haven’t memorized it within less than a day of being here). Once you’re finished inputting your number, you pass your phone over to Itadori so he can do the same.

And just like that, you have a new contact saved. Itadori Yuji. He even added a little smiley-face at the end of his name. God, he’s so fucking cute. 

“Sweet!” Itadori grins. “Thanks, [Name]. I’ll be sure to text you lots! Sorry I can’t really stick around much longer. I just wanted to stop by real quick before I left to go visit my gramps at the hospital.” 

Right. His grandfather. A point deep in your stomach throbs uncomfortably, and you’re hit by a sudden wave of guilt. It feels awful to know that his grandfather’s end is rapidly approaching. It feels awful to know that you can’t change it, or even warn him. All you can do is feign ignorance and hope that he enjoys these fleeting moments while they last. 

You muster up a smile. “I hope you have a nice day with your grandpa. Feel free to text me whenever.”

“Will do! See ya!” 

Itadori waves you off, every bit as cheerful as always. Yet another thing that causes you immense guilt is the knowledge that his happy days won’t last forever. Soon, he’ll be thrown into a dark, sinister world that teems with death. A world that, in your opinion, is far too harsh for such a gentle soul. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about that. Fate will run its course, and you must simply stand by and let it happen. 

Despite the nice day you had, your spirits are admittedly a bit low as you trudge home, having to consult Oogle Maps in order to find your way around. After being injured yesterday, the nurse called your parents to inform them of what had happened, and your mom came by to pick you up. This is technically your first time finding your way home by yourself. It’s not just a new school you need time getting used to, but a new home, a new city, a new world… all of it is bound to get a little overwhelming at times.

You wish you could say you’re completely aware of your surroundings, but that’s far from the truth. Every so often, you have to stop and squint towards the street signs to make sure you’re heading the right way. Jujutsu Kaisen is set in a fictional world, of course, but it’s a world modeled off the real world, and there’s plenty of similarities. This version of Japan is every bit as busy as the real one, for instance. Which is why you keep getting swept up in the crowds and losing your sense of direction.

Still, it’s not rocket science. You can mostly figure out where you’re going. Oogle Maps is idiot-proof, after all. Well, sort of. 

But the fact remains that you’ve never wandered these streets before, and naturally, you’re as disoriented as anyone would be in a foreign place. Hence why you don’t notice him until it’s late. 

A man with long, black hair, who’s staring right at you. 

You get jerked around by the crowd of people hurrying home during rush-hour, enough that you end up tripping onto the sidewalk and falling onto your knees. Your socks only reach up to your calves, so unfortunately, your knees get scraped open and start bleeding. 

Man. Only two days into this isekai thing, and you just can’t seem to stop getting hurt. 

“...are you alright?” 

Some guy is speaking to you. Presumably, one of the bystanders that saw you trip. Your cheeks flush, because falling in public is one of the most embarrassing things that can happen, but you instinctively reach out to grab his hand anyway. 

At the same time, your gaze pans upwards, and his eyes meet yours. 

Oh, balls. 

That’s the most appropriate response you can think of. After all, the man you’ve just had the misfortune of running into is hardly the type to be your friend. He’s not like Itadori. He’s not one of the good guys. 

He is Geto Suguru. Or rather, the curse user that’s pretending to be him. The real Geto is long dead. He was killed by his former best friend, Gojo. 

Those scars on his forehead tell you everything you need to know. The curse user’s name is Kenjaku, and he is merely using Geto’s body as a vessel. As things stand, you’re probably the only person who knows his true identity.

Regardless, the details don’t matter right now.

You’re just really fucking scared. 

Kenjaku pulls you to your feet, and unlike with Itadori, when you wished you could keep holding his hand forever, this time, you pull away viscerally fast, as if you’ve just been splashed with hot oil. 

Naturally, Kenjaku notices. 

“You didn’t answer my question, miss,” he chuckles, a cunning smile spreading across his lips. “I asked if you were alright. You took quite a tumble there. It must have hurt.” 

“I-I’m fine,” you reply, praying your fear isn’t absurdly obvious. You need to stay calm. There’s no reason why an ordinary person would be afraid of him, and if you let it show, he’ll know something’s up. 

“Your knees are bleeding,” Kenjaku points out. He leans closer to you, and you swear your heart nearly explodes. His dark, thin eyes are even more eerie from up close. “And you look like you just saw a ghost. I admit, I’m a bit worried.”

That’s bullshit if you’ve ever heard it, but nevertheless, you can’t allow your expression to crumble. There’s no reason for him to kill you out in public like this. Unlike cursed spirits, people can see him. He won’t risk drawing that kind of attention to himself. 

Probably. 

“I’m just… socially awkward,” you say, chuckling shyly for added effect. “And, uh, I’m not good at talking to handsome guys like you. I get nervous.” 

To be honest, what you just said isn’t even a total lie. Sadly. 

Kenjaku stares at you in silence for a few moments, then smiles yet again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“I’m flattered by your words,” he muses. “Well, just be careful not to trip again. You got off with a small injury this time, but if you’re not careful, it could be a lot worse. And nobody likes to hurt, do they?” 

It’s hard to tell whether or not that was meant to be a thinly-veiled threat, but you have no intention of sticking around to find out. 

“Thank you for your help, mister. I appreciate it.” 

You hastily bow to him, then waste no time before speed-walking away. The further you get, the easier it is to breathe.

But since you’re too scared to look back over your shoulder, you don’t realize that Kenjaku is still staring at you with a contemplative look on his face. 

He hums to himself. “So much cursed energy. Is she a sorcerer? But something about her seems strange. I just can’t put my finger on it.” 

Well, no matter. He’ll leave you in peace for now. He can’t very well attack you in broad daylight, and he doesn’t even know if you pose a threat. There are far too many variables to consider. 

Besides, something tells him that this won’t be your last meeting. 

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[stararch4ngelqueen]

hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”

I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.

—

Time written - 10:10 a.m

—

You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.

“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.

“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”

You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”

To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.

“Trade you a milkshake for that.”

It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?

“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.

“Seems fair.”

“And the place it’s bought from.”

“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.

“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”

“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”

It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.

He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.

Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.

Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.

All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.

What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.

“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.

What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.

“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.

“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.

All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.

“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.

“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.

Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.

He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.

“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”

His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.

“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.

Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.

“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”

Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.

“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You just needed to say yes.

You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.

“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”

“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”

“Then where is it?”

Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”

“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.

“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“

You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.

You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.

“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”

In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.

Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.

“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”

Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.

[nahoney22]

Congratulations on the followers⭐️ I have a scenario I think you’ll absolutely smash! If possible can I have the prompt “I want to help you… if you’ll let me.” With Hunter and a F!reader.

Hunter is quite hard on reader but only because he’s protective but it comes across super badly and one night you had enough of his nagging and go to a bar for a drink but start getting a bit hassled by a drunk patron and hunter comes to help you out? BUT reader can fully handle herself bc bossbitch 😆 Would love it to be angsty, classic enemies to lovers and it may end with a little smooch?

Thank you if you do this and no worries if not ♥️

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Hunter X F!Reader

word count: 3.3k

prompt:

“I want to help you… if you’ll let me.”

authors note: thank you for the request! Love this idea. Enjoy and sorry for the wait 🤍

warnings: enemies to lovers, drunk patron who can’t take no for an answer, canon typical violence, angsty, mild injury to reader, reader gets insulted, female reader, hunter is a bit of an arse at first, first kiss which is a little steamy, protective hunter. I

The aftermath of the latest mission left a sour taste lingering in your mouth, the tension between you and Hunter palpable in the crowded bar. Despite the success of the mission, Hunter couldn't resist injecting his bitter critique into the - what should be - celebratory atmosphere.

As the squad was basking in victory, clinking cups and allowing Omega to indulge in a very sugary concoction that almost had her bouncing off the walls, Hunter's biting words tainted the mood.

His critique of your tactics cut deep, branding you as reckless and a threat to safety, all delivered in front of the entire squad.

Flushed with embarrassment and fueled by anger, you hastily abandoned the bar, seeking refuge in another dimly lit establishment down the strip. Unbeknownst to you, the others exchanged scornful glances, Echo remarking, "She gets it from you, you know?" A subtle nod to your adoption of Hunter's techniques, albeit with less finesse.

Swallowing his pride, Hunter trailed after you with a heavy sigh, the weight of his words hanging heavy on his shoulders as he tried to find a way to make it up to you.

Meanwhile in the new bar, a sketchy run down looking thing with flickering strobe lights, you find yourself situated between two patrons in a world of their own.

As you waited for the service droid to serve you, a small shift from you caught the attention of the man on the left. A rugged looking man with a rather stale odor to match.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” His inquiry, laced with unwanted charm, sent a shiver down your spine as you maintained a polite smile, avoiding direct eye contact.

“In this dump? Not quite sure. But, just here for one drink,” you replied, hoping to discourage further conversation.

The man chuckled, a smug grin etching lines on his worn face, followed by a troubling cough that was hacked into a dirty rag that makes you squirm. “That so?” He asks after his coughing fit. “Mind if I get ya one?"

"I'll get it myself. Thanks for the offer," you replied, freezing him in his tracks.

"Heh, you think you're too good for me?" he retorted, his gaze piercing.

Sighing, you turned to face him, attempting to maintain composure amidst his growing aggression. "I didn't say anything like that. I'm here to buy my own drink and leave."

But as his tone escalated and his proximity grew, you reached your breaking point. Despite your attempts to politely decline, he persisted, his invasive advances refusing to relent, leaving you feeling increasingly uncomfortable and trapped.

Until you snapped.

Hunter found himself darting his head into every bar and club, your current whereabouts unknown. Frustration gnawed at him as he went to check your location only to see you had switched it off, thwarting his attempts to track you down.

However, a subtle whiff in the air caught his attention, and his stomach churned. The same sensation he developed whenever the smell hit him. He finds himself gulping a little as he instantly recognised the faint scent of the floral soap that only you used.

It left a lingering trace, teasing him that he was on the right track. A part of him wanted to clear the scent away; he had smelled it so often in the Marauder that it always sent his mind into a spiral of confusion and found it rather distracting.

His thoughts on your scent dissipated as the sound of loud banging reverberated down a stairway to a rundown bar. Hunter froze, his senses sharpening as he listened intently. The familiar sound of your voice had him bolting down the steps, instincts kicking in as he rushed to your aid. Or so he thought he had to.

Upon entering, Hunter's heart quickened its pace as he was greeted with the sight of you, hands raised in a defensive stance, facing off against a man whose laughter echoed brashly in your face. The tension in the air was thick as you snapped, “Keep your dirty, mucus breath away from me!”

The man, undeterred by your sharp words, retorted with a smirk, “That ain’t very ladylike of you, sweet cheeks. Calm down and have a drink with me.”

Your nostrils flared in anger, steam seemingly emanating from you as you glared daggers at him. “I said no,” you snarled, your voice dripping with venom. “And call me ‘sweet cheeks’ one more time, I’ll kick you between the legs so hard it won’t be the cough you’re choking on!”

As the confrontation intensified, Hunter's eyes widened in surprise and concern as he watched from a few feet away, momentarily frozen by the scene unfolding before him.

Then, his protective side kicks in, taking a step forward, the need to intervene pulsing through his veins. He speaks your name which causes you to freeze and glance over your shoulder to meet his penetrating gaze. Great.

Meanwhile, the man, sensing the shift in dynamics, glanced over your shoulder too and directed a question at Hunter. “Oi, bandana, does she belong to you?”

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you interrupted before Hunter could respond, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I don’t belong to nobody, let’s get that right,” you hissed, your gaze locked in a fierce glare with the patron.

“You best listen to her,” Hunter piped up, stepping in between you and the man with a protective stance. “But,” he continued, turning to look at you, “I think me and you should get going.”

You stared at the clone, a wave of anger and confusion washing over you. What game was he playing? First, he mocked you, and now he was trying to act like Prince Charming? So, you shook your head adamantly. “I’ve still not had my drink.”

“I said I’ll buy you one,” the patron quipped.

“Will you shut up?” Both you and Hunter snapped at the same time, sharing a surprised glance at the oddity of the moment, but quickly brushing it off. You nudged past him and leaned back on the bartop, determined to get the attention of the service droid.

Hunter's sigh was loud as he stood beside you, gesturing for you to follow him, but you persisted with a shake of your head. You came for a drink, and you would leave with one.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, the patron approached you, reaching a hand towards you. But Hunter was already on the case, swatting the man's hand away with a swift motion. “Lay a finger on her and I’ll break all of yours. Leave.”

You stared at the back of Hunter’s head, your eyes wide in surprise at his tone and sudden threat. He was always a commanding presence, but never to this extent. It made you feel a strange mix of emotions, a tingling sensation spreading from your belly to the tips of your fingers.

The man glanced between you and Hunter, his expression a mixture of defiance and resignation, before taking a final swig of his drink. With a nod of his head, he seemed prepared to leave, but not without delivering a parting shot.

“Put her on a leash next time.”

Despite Hunter's heightened senses, he was not quick enough to respond as you pivoted on your heel and unleashed a hefty punch straight to the man’s nose. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, landing hard on his rear.

The man, stunned and ready to retaliate, found himself abruptly halted by a boot pressed firmly to his chest, courtesy of the tall Clone. With his hands raised in defense, he hesitated.

“Apologise to the lady,” Hunter demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

“Forget it, Hunter,” you muttered, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you shook out your hand. “I’m not going to ask someone or force someone to apologise to me.” There was a certain edge in your voice, a subtle reminder of Hunter's own failure to say sorry for his earlier words.

Unfortunately, the disruption had drawn the attention of the service droid (finally), and you and Hunter were promptly forced to leave.

As you were ushered out, you wasted no time in striding ahead, your steps heavy with frustration. The rhythmic tap of your boots echoed against the pavement, a stark contrast to the fading sounds of the bar behind you.

"Hey, wait up!" Hunter's voice called after you, but you were resolute in your determination not to stop. You didn't want him to see your tears, didn't want to show any vulnerability in front of him. Not after everything that had just happened. Not after that painful punch that felt like hitting a brick wall.

Ignoring his calls, you continued forward, your jaw clenched tightly to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. But your pace was abruptly halted as Hunter caught up to you, using his body as a barrier as he stopped directly in front of you.

"Come on, we need to talk. I need to—Are you crying?" Hunter's voice softened, concern evident in his tone as he noticed the telltale signs of tears glistening in your eyes.

"No!" you snapped back, a reflexive denial, but the tremble in your voice betrayed your true emotions.

Hunter sighed softly, his shoulders slumping slightly as he realised the depth of your distress. "Let’s get back to the ship. We can talk there," he suggested gently, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

A part of you wanted to stay stubborn, to refuse his offer and continue on your own path to perhaps another bar. But the night was growing darker, and the pain in your hand from the earlier punch was becoming increasingly unbearable. With a resigned nod, you reluctantly allowed Hunter to guide you back to the port.

Once inside the ship, the air felt heavier with tension as you stood in the cramped space, watching intently as Hunter meticulously sifted through the clutter of supplies and equipment scattered around. With a focused determination, he located a medkit.

When you insisted that you didn't need him to attend to your injury, considering it wasn't that serious, Hunter's expression hardened, his voice taking on a stern edge. "Yeah? Want to explain why there’s now blood on the ship floor?" The sharpness in his tone made your face flush with embarrassment as you glanced down, noticing the small tear in your skin that had resulted from the brief scuffle.

"Oh," you muttered awkwardly, feeling hot under Hunter's scrutiny.

“Sit here.” Without missing a beat, Hunter gestured for you to sit on a nearby crate, his demeanor firm yet oddly reassuring. As he patted the surface in front of him, you couldn't help but wonder about his motives. Was it your earlier words about his lack of apology that lingered in his mind, prompting this gesture of care? Or was there another reason behind his actions? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but deep down, a part of you couldn't deny the comfort of his presence in that moment.

“I don’t need coddling,” you mumbled half-heartedly, attempting to maintain a facade of independence despite the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Nevertheless, your feet moved almost of their own accord, carrying you towards Hunter as you settled yourself onto the crate in front of him.

"Oh, I know, you handled yourself well," Hunter chuckled softly, his hands moving deftly as he pulled out pads to dab at your skin, preparing to disinfect the area. “I want to help you… if you’ll let me.”

You grumbled in response, your eyes trained on his hands as they worked. "Ha, next joke please."

Hunter raised a brow at you, his expression serious for a moment. "I mean it," he insisted, his tone earnest.

You couldn't help but scoff, the bitterness of his previous criticism still fresh in your mind. "Yet I’m reckless and a danger to others?" you retorted, your voice tinged with sarcasm and frustration.

A heavy sigh escaped Hunter's lips, and he paused in his actions, looking you directly in the eye, though you were doing your hardest not to meet his gaze. "I want to say sorry for what I said. I… I should have said it to you alone. And differently."

You could hear the slight awkwardness in his tone, but it did come across as honest. Yet, you were still annoyed. “Yeah well, you completely embarrassed and upset me.”

He blinked, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as your voice took on a gentle tone tinged with sadness. “I know, and I am sorry. Truly. But, I only said it because…” he trailed off for a moment, his eyes trained on the medkit again, as if searching for the answer within.

“Because?” You prompted him, giving his leg a small nudge with your foot.

“Because I care. I don’t want you taking risks like I do. Like what the others do.” Hunter's admission hung in the air, revealing a layer of concern and perhaps a touch of vulnerability.

There was a gravity to Hunter's words, a weight that seemed to hang in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was as if his sudden sincerity reached out and tugged at the strings of your heart, tempting you to lean into the warmth of his presence. But you resisted, holding back the urge to act on the tumultuous feelings that were suddenly swirling inside you.

“You certainly have an odd way with words in that case,” you found yourself saying, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to make sense of the complex emotions churning within you. Hunter seemed to notice the subtle change in your demeanor, his senses catching the telltale signs of your heightened heartbeat.

“You’re not wrong,” he admitted quietly, his own voice apologetic. With gentle precision, he applied some bactaspray to your knuckles, his touch light yet reassuring. As he dabbed away the blood, you couldn't help but hiss in pain, the sting overlapping the odd flutter in your heart.

“My apologies,” Hunter murmured, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity.

Despite the slight discomfort, there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes as you watched him meticulously care for your hand. Never had you seen him so gentle and so indulged at the task at hand.

As you watched Hunter, the smirk gradually faded from your lips, replaced by a sense of awe as your eyes traced the finer details of his face. His strong jawline, the depth of his intoxicating eyes, and the tattoo that adorned his skin, its colors slightly faded but still complimenting his rugged appearance perfectly. His long locks, usually tucked back by his bandana, had fallen forward, framing his face in a way that emphasised his rugged charm.

You came to a sudden realisation of just how handsome he was. Of course, you had always known it on some level, but now it struck you with a new intensity that made your heart quicken and your cheeks flush with a sudden shyness.

“So, do you forgive me?” Hunter's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to reality and you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Sorry, what?” you blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks as you snapped out of your reverie, realizing you had been lost in awe-struck admiration of Hunter.

He chuckled softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he raised a brow at your dazed stare. “No, it’s me who is the one saying ‘sorry’ this time.” With a gentle touch, he guided your attention back to your injured hand, his movements careful and deliberate as he applied a dressing before neatly packing the medkit away. “But I’ll ask again, do you forgive me?”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a mixture of confusion, shyness, and bashfulness under his attentive gaze. “I suppose… just please don’t do it again.”

“You have my word,” he nodded, his smile warm and reassuring. When his gaze met yours, the swirling storm of your emotions came back, and your heart raced even faster than before when he extended his hand towards you.

You tried to play it off as a simple gesture to help you off the crate, but as you placed your good hand into his, there was a gentle squeeze in his touch before he effortlessly pulled you forward, almost causing you to stumble into his chest.

“Oh!- oh,” you stammered, quickly steadying yourself but growing increasingly aware of the proximity between you and the Sergeant.

His eyes remained locked on yours, his head tilting slightly to the side as he studied your reaction. “Everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft, the warmth of his hand still lingering on yours.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you nodded firmly, though the erratic thumping of your heart betrayed your composure, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Hunter could sense it, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Tell me,” his voice was hushed, his warm breath brushing against your features as he leaned in closer, “why is your heart beating so fast?”

You gulped, feeling his proximity overwhelming your senses as you searched his eyes for an answer, but all you found was a reflection of your own turmoil. The truth was written in the depths of your gaze, but your words failed you, and you found yourself stuttering over your thoughts, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was as if the weight of your unspoken feelings hung heavy in the air between you.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Hunter spoke aloud, his other hand moving to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I can’t help but wonder if you…” He trailed off, uncertainty lacing his words, but he couldn't ignore the palpable tension that crackled between you any longer, “if you have feelings for me.”

“Do you truly care about me?” you asked, your voice a delicate whisper tinged with a shyness as you found yourself yearning to inch just a tad closer to Hunter's body. Every nerve in your body seemed to hum with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken desires.

Sensing your feelings, Hunter gently pushed you back with his body, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as your legs hit the crate behind you. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t understand how much I care,” his voice rumbled low, the depth of his emotions evident in his tone. “I’ve never cared about anyone so much in my life.”

With just the two of you here, the atmosphere crackled with an electrifying tension, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniable.

“Well,” you whispered, your injured hand reaching out to touch his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his shirt as if seeking reassurance, “maybe I do too. Maybe I do have feelings for you.”

A sigh, almost a mix of a moan and relief, escaped Hunter's lips at your words. “Come here to me,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Without hesitation, you closed the distance between the pair of you, your lips meeting his in a somewhat long-awaited embrace. Hunter's arms enveloped you, one hand cradling your body with a firm yet gentle touch, while the other slid to the back of your head, holding you close with a tenderness that made your heart flutter as his fingers tangled in your hair.

Lifting you, you're placed on top of the crate once again, Hunter sandwiched between your legs as you both savor the quiet and serene moment. Your bitterness had vanished, replaced with the soft taste of his tongue dancing with yours. An alcoholic tang.

For a moment, all the tension, all the longing and arguing melted away as you molded into each other, lost in the sweetness of the kiss and the warmth of each other's embrace. “Hunter,” you whimper breathlessly.

You hoped the others wouldn’t come back for a while.

Masterlist

Prompt Masterlist

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[justmyguiltyggpleasure]

2nd Chance at Love (pt.2)

Summary: Ningning gets your number from Eunchae and asks to hang out together. Karina finds out and she doesn't like it at all.

Warnings: none for this one

PT.1

- Y/n-unnie, Ningning-unnie is asking for your number. Can I give it to her? - Eunchae asks from her place on the couch. You got home from the restaurant a while ago and were both waiting for your turn to shower.

- Why? - to that the maknae only shrugged - yeah, sure.

Eunchae typed something on her phone and blocked it going back to laying her head on your shoulder and closing her eyes. Not even a minute later you got a text from an unknown number.

| Hey! This is Ning from aespa. I just got your number from Eunchae. Hope that's not a problem

'Well, that was fast' Frowning a bit you answer right away just hoping it got nothing to do with your ex. 'Why would it now of all times?'

| Hello, sunbae-nim. Not a problem at all, is there anything I can do for you?

| Please, just Ning. Yes, actually, I want to know if you're down to hang out together

| Sounds good, just let me know when so I can tell the girls

| Oh, I was actually thinking on hanging out 1x1

'1x1?'

| I'm a bit shy but Eunchae was talking about you earlier and I think our personalities match. We could be good friends. Y'know aespa got no friends >.<

At that you chuckled. You've heard from Ryujin the girls were kind of shy around strangers and had a hard time making friends. Well, you knew that about Her.

| Totally get you. I'm down, we just finished promotions so I got some free time. Let me know when and where, I'll be there

| I'll text you later. You must be tired and it's already late, I'll let you sleep now. Goodnight ^-^

| I'll be waiting. Goodnight ^-^

- Bro, who got you smiling like that? - Yunjin asks in English while drying her hair with a towel, coming out of the bathroom with a cheeky smile.

You roll your eyes smiling back at her

- None of your business. But for real, I think I made a new friend.

- Friend or Friend? - she asks wiggling her eyebrows

- Stop, just a friend - you answer laughing

- Unnie l, stop shaking so much. - at the maknae's complaint you apologize

- Aren't you going to shower, miss? - Yunjin asks

- Ugh! I am. - she stands with a groan and makes her way to the bathroom leaving you and your bestie alone in the living room

- So… who was it?

- Ningning- sunbae-nim

- Ah, she's so nice, I was a trainee with her

- You were a trainee with everyone at this point, Jen. - you say laughing and she follows you

- True

Aespa's Dorm

- And how do you plan on doing that exactly? - Minjeong asks her friend after being told of the interest she had in the well-known player

- I'll just let it happen naturally. We'll become friends first and see where it goes from there. I want her and the only thing I know about her that I don't like is that she sleeps around a lot and only once with each girl - Minjeong hums and Ning continues - I'll just have to make sure she likes me before sleeping with her

- That's not a bad plan but… it's not great either

- I know but that's all I got for now

- What are you talking about? - Jimin peeks her head in through the door

- Just Ning's amazing plan to get y/n to fall for her - Minjeong answers, sarcasm clear in her voice

Jimin's world stopped spinning for a moment

- … right, Jimin-unnie? - she heard the maknae say and came back to her senses

- w-what? - Ningning sighed

- I'll just get close to her and show what an amazing catch I am, and then I'll just let things happen from there, it's good enough, right? - Ningning summarized her plan.

It could work… Jimin was once your friend too and things did happen from there

- Y-yeah. Yes, it is. - her voice was low and kind of sad, the girls blamed it on tiredness - Anyways, I just came here to tell you both to sleep soon. We've got a schedule early

Both girls nodded their heads. They all said their goodnight to one another and went to their respective rooms.

Jimin laid on her bed and looked at the ceiling. She tossed and turned a few times before sighing. She knew she wasn't getting any sleep that night.

Picking up her phone, she texted that one number

| We need to talk. It's important, y/n

___________________>_<_________________

Taglist: @desireyu @xen248

Want to be tagged?

[romerona]

All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: canon violence. Word count: 8K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

Middle of the ocean, Nami's boat.

"Sooner or later, I'll wander into the unknown

Sooner or later, you'll face the world on your own

Who will you hang to when you're left all alone?

When the night grows cold, and the winds have blown--"

"....give me some quiet and some space?"

Nami's annoyed voice made Y/N look up from her booklet to Luffy chasing after his hat, it came right to where he was sitting at the nose of the boat. So, she simply stretched her arm to catch it just before it could fly away.

"Here," Y/N gave the thankful Luffy his hat back who took it with a small smile while mumbling his gratitude.

"Not cool," Luffy then turned to Nami, more serious than Y/N had ever seen him be. "Don’t mess with my hat."

"Why do you care so much about that hat anyway?" Y/N asks, glancing back down at her notes.

"Yeah, It looks like you fished it out of the trash," Nami added as she continued to try and unlock the safe.

Luffy smiles down his straw hat "One man’s trash is another man’s treasure."

"That still doesn't answer the question, stud."

Zoro groans inside the cabin, "Will you three knock it off? I’m trying to take a nap."

"Oh, I’m sorry," Nami said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Were we interrupting your beauty sleep?"

"Don’t like what you see? Look away."

Y/N chuckles at the response, however, her laughter is interrupted by the sound of the lock clicking making her snap her head towards Nami who was opening the door of the safe.

"You did it," Luffy exclaimed.

"Holy shit," Y/N swiftly stands and makes her way to stand next to Nami. She smiles at the orange-haired girl, "You actually did it, Pumpik."

They all looked down at the inside of the safe and it's content. Y/N was a little disappointed there wasn't anything special in it, not treasures one assumes a safe would keep, instead, there were some confidential files and a wanted poster for a pirate named Kuro. And then there was the golden map tube, the only valuable thing.

Nami reaches over and takes it. She hastily takes the top off and pulls out the map causing Y/N to let out a breathy sigh.

"That’s it?" Zoro deadpanned unimpressed by the findings, "Isn’t there supposed to be gold inside a safe? Or jewels?"

Nami looks at the green-haired boy in disbelief, "This is more valuable than gold. It’s knowledge. This is a map to the Grand Line."

"The Grand Line. Ah," Luffy, with his usual smile, stares at the map in Nami's hands."The Grand Line is just right… Where is it exactly?"

Y/N looks at the boy with narrow confused eyes, "Seriously?"

"You’re going there, but you don’t know where it is?" Sharing Y/N's thoughts, Nami asks.

"Guess I need a navigator on my crew," Luffy stated grinning at Nami.

"Oh, god," Y/N mumbles, cursing herself for being so stupid to think Luffy could take her to The Grand Line. Maybe she can steal the map at some point or draw a copy and go herself.... thought going solo wasn't a great idea. Not when ghosts continue to hunt for her.

They follow Nami inside the small cabin.

"The seas are divided into four quadrants." Nami grabs some chalk and starts drawing down on the hanging table. "East Blue, North Blue, West, South. This thin strip of land that circles the globe is called the Red Line, and this band across the middle is the Grand Line."

"A treacherous stretch of ocean with bigger islands, bigger cities, bigger pirates. Flush with riches and ripe for the picking." Nami grins.

Y/N regards the drawing with a soft frown as she recalls her past "And way more dangerous..."

"That’s where we’re gonna find the One Piece!" Luffy exclaims.

"I’ve taken out a lot of pirates looking for that thing," Zoro says before asking. "What is it? Like, a big diamond or something?"

"It’s Gold Roger’s treasure," Luffy told him. ""He hid it somewhere in the Grand Line. All in one piece."

"It’s a myth. The reason no one’s found it in 22 years is that it doesn’t exist." Nami says with exasperation.

"Reckon he just said it to piss off the Marines," Y/N hums, "Admirable."

Luffy grins at the girls. "Can’t wait to see the look on your faces when we find it."

"If you find it you mea--"

The sound of an explosion cut Y/N off sending all four of them into alarm mode.

"Is that the Marines?" Zoro asks placing his hands on his katanas.

Y/N quickly pulls her war-fans from her skirt. "Shit. Are they?"

They walk out to the deck. Nami mumbles "How did they find us?"

Y/N looks up with a frown for from the skies, some red dust falls upon them, slowly enveloping them. She was begging to feel dizzy, and very sleepy... with dread, Y/N realized what it was. This has been used on her before.

Nami was out first.

"This smoke smells weird," Luffy mumbles, feeling the effects of the dust.

Zoro was next.

"Luffy, the ma..." Before she could finish she felt the world went dark.

Y/N's bare feet danced across the warm sand, her laughter mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. With each step, she felt the freedom of the island envelop her, a secret sanctuary where worries vanished like mist under the morning sun. She glanced back, her eyes alight with mischief as she spotted her much younger sister, Miri, darting through the bustling market stalls.

"Come on, Miri! You'll never catch me!" Y/N called, her voice carried away by the salty breeze.

Miri's laughter bubbled forth, a melody that echoed Y/N's joy. With a determined grin, Miri chased after her sister, her small legs propelling her forward with unbridled enthusiasm. The market around teemed with life, vendors hawking their wares beneath colourful awnings, the air rich with the scent of spices and freshly caught fish.

Dodging between crates of exotic fruits and stalls piled high with vibrant fabrics, the two little girls raced through the people with loud laughter.

As they emerged onto a sun-drenched promenade, Y/N slowed her pace, allowing Miri to draw closer. She turned to face her sister, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Think you can keep up, fish-legs?"

Miri grinned, her round cheeks flushed with exertion. "Just you wait, Y/N! I'll beat you yet!"

With a mischievous wink, Y/N took off again, her laughter trailing behind her like a comet's tail. The younger girl followed in hot pursuit, their laughter intermingling with the sounds of the island—a symphony of joy and freedom that echoed across the sun-kissed shores.

The girls skidded to a halt in a quaint courtyard nestled amidst the bustling village. The air was redolent with the aroma of freshly baked bread and spices, luring them to pause and savour the moment. They settled onto a weathered bench, their breath coming in exhilarated gasps as they gazed around, taking in the vibrant tapestry of island life.

"Y/N/N, you think Mama would let me take one of those landfolk trinkets back home?" Miri exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she bit into a juicy slice of tropical fruit.

Y/N thought for a moment. Her parents were in an important meeting of some sort, she recalls them quietly speaking about the World Government declaration that was supposed to be out that afternoon, they sounded worried but Y/N had no idea why. "Maybe, depending on the trinket can withstand being in the water for long,"

"It's one of those dolls," Miri mumbles

"Those are made with fabric," Y/N shakes her head, "She won't let you,"

Miri pouts and deflates. Not liking seeing her younger sister sad, Y/N purses her lips in thought, when an idea hits her.

"Maybe not a doll but she can let us take one of these shiny stones. You like those, right?"

"Oh, yes," Miri smiles, "The stones with crystals inside of them, those are pretty..."

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion in the distance—a chorus of shouts and panicked cries that shattered the tranquillity of the courtyard. People began to scatter, their faces etched with fear as they fled back towards the ocean.

"What's happening, Y/N?" Miri's voice trembled with uncertainty as they were swept up in the frantic throng of people.

Y/N heart skipped a beat as she glanced around, her senses on high alert. People were scattering in every direction, their voices rising in panic as a wave of fear swept through the village like wildfire. Without hesitation, she grabbed her sister's hand, her grip tight with determination.

"We need to find-"

As if on cue, their father appeared, his brow furrowed with worry as he rushed towards them. Without a word, he took hold of Y/N's hand and began to guide them through the throngs of panicked villagers, his grip firm and unwavering.

"Stay close, girls," he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.

"Papa, what's going on?" Y/N asked, her voice wavering with concern.

Their father's expression was grim as he gathered them close, his hands firm yet gentle as he began to guide them towards the beach where their mother was anxiously waiting for them. "There's danger, my pearls. We must go to safety."

The sisters exchanged a worried glance, their steps quickening as they followed their father through the labyrinthine streets. The distant roar of the ocean grew louder with each passing moment, a reminder of the peril lurking just beyond the tranquil facade of the island...

When Y/N first woke up, she was confused.

"What...?" She looked around noticing the others were just as confused as she was. Then she noticed the box they were all in. Her heart began to race.

"They took my swords," Zoro grumbles once he notices the missing weight.

Nami groans noticing they took something away from her too. "And my rucksack, ugh, with all my navigation gear."

"And my fans..." Y/N mumbles, quickly standing up. Ignoring the rest, she reaches to place a hand on the hard wooden wall, "No, no, no..."

Her hands scrabbled against the rough walls, searching for any means of escape. Splinters dug into her skin, but she hardly noticed amidst the rising tide of fear. Memories flooded back, memories she had long tried to bury— The air was stale, each inhale felt like a struggle, as if the very act of breathing was a battle against the confines of the box.

"Hey," A raspy familiar voice said as a large hand landed on her shoulder but it swiftly slapped it off.

"Don't touch me," Y/N snaps as she continues to desperately look for a way out. "No. Not again, please,"

Suddenly, she flinches at the sound of someone next to her banging on the wooden walls.

"Stop." Y/N faintly heard Nami hiss. "Stop that."

"What? I’m trying to find a way out." The same raspy voice said. It was Zoro.

"We’ve been captured. We need a plan." Nami tells them.

"No, fuck no," Y/N continues to look for a way out, this time, however, she starts to push against the wooden wall.

"I just need to beat the hell out of every Marine I see," Zoro agrees.

"Hey, everyone, relax," Luffy, like Zoro, places a hand on Y/N's shoulders only to be slapped off. "We’re fine."

"We’re not fine. The Marines will throw us in jail if we’re lucky." Nami says. "Execute us if they don’t"

"They… they are not Marines. Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We’ve been captured by pirates."

No...

Y/N stopped her attempts as Images flashed through her mind—memories of past suffocation, of being trapped in tight spaces. Panic gripped her like a vice, squeezing tighter with each passing moment.

Time lost meaning as Y/N battled against the relentless grip of fear. Minutes stretched into hours, each second dragging by with excruciating slowness. Her throat began to close, and her body started trembling with exhaustion and terror.

"That’s much better news."

"No, he’s right," Zoro said, he stepped a little closer to Y/N, and she was painfully aware and utterly horrified. "Marines have training. Pirates are easier to kill."

"Shanks used to say not every situation can be solved with violence," Luffy told them.

"Who the hell is Shanks?"

"We don’t need to fight. I can talk to them," Luffy shakes his head with a grin, "Pirate to pirate."

Y/N would have laughed at the idea of reasoning with a Pirate hadn't she been in the starters of a hysteria attack.

"That won’t work." Nami said

"Why not?"

"To start, you’re not a pirate."

" Yes, I am."

"No," Nami said looking at Luffy, "You are some stretchy guy in a tattered hat."

"I’m a different kind of pirate," Luffy stated, optimism practically oozing out of him.

"Pirates are pirates. There’s only one kind."

That is true. Pirates are all foul, soulless creatures... another wave of memories flooded her brain. Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos of her mind. But even in the darkness behind her eyelids, the walls of the box loomed large, a constant reminder of her imprisonment.

But just when she felt herself on the brink of surrender, the top of the box opened forcing Y/N to snap open. Music began to fill her ears, an odd spectacle of dancing... clowns? began to surround them once all the walls of the box were pulled apart.

Y/N, finally being able to breathe properly, watches as people in costumes do flips and tricks around them. She glances at her surroundings. This was a circus. Why were they in a circus? The people on the stats started to clap, Y/N frowned as she watched the tears of fear in some of those people. Isn't a circus supposed to be fun?

"No. No, no, no, no," A man or rather a clown with blue and a red nose, shouting prompting everyone to stop the show. "Stop clapping! No, stop! It’s all wrong!"

"The spotlight was late. You completely missed my entrance." He motions for the light to go from the four of them to him. Then he turns his attention to the man dressed in a bear costume who is terrified of the clown. "And where, oh, where was the dancing lion?"

"Hey, I know you," Luffy earned the clown's attention. "I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town. You’re the clown guy. Um, uh… Binky, right?"

"Buggy," The clown with blue hair corrected and to Y/N's surprise, he kept going. "Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester."

"Wow. You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." Luffy said impressed but his words earned a gasp from the audience confusing the four of them.

"What did you just say?" Buggy deadpanned.

Luffy, none the wiser, repeats "Just that everyone knows who you are-"

"Nose?!" Buggy exclaims rushing to clasp Luffy's face in his hand, squeezing. The clown's crew step forward, holding their weapons, looking weirdly intimidating. "Are you making fun of my nose?"

Y/N, despite the dangerous situation, was baffled for a moment. She subtly regards Buggy's nose. Was that actually his real nose?? Oh, it was. Woah.

"Well… I wasn’t. But now that you mention it, is that thing for real?" Luffy lifts a hand to touch the clown's nose but he quickly slaps it away, making the audience gasp.

"What’s real is I’ve been scheming for months," The clown pushes Luffy away, and Y/N who was just behind him manages to catch him. She turns as Buggy stands in front of Nami, "To steal that map from old Axe-Hand Moron…"

"Eh?" He waits for an acknowledgement or reaction from the orange-haired girl but when he realises he is getting none he waves a dismissive hand and turns back to the others. "…only to find out that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right out under my no- No! It’s in my head now."

"Ah!" Buggy groans with exasperation moving away. "

"Hey, I’m not a nobody," Luffy said, once again successfully gaining the clown pirate's attention. "I’m Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be King of the Pirates."

Y/N had to give it to Luffy. His determination was so outstanding that even in such a dire situation it wouldn't break, however, she couldn't decide yet if it was stupidity or courage.

Buggy lets out a laugh, "Oh! Now that’s funny."

One of his crew members holds up a sign, forcing the audience to laugh. Well, that's depressing, can't imagine being a clown and having to force people to laugh.

Buggy motions for the laughing to halt. He moves, looking in between them as he speaks;

"My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known. I am destined to find the One Piece. And when I do… I will be king."

"No, you won’t, ’cause I’m gonna find it first." Luffy contradicted the clown.

It's stupidity, Y/N decided.

"You?" Buggy scoffs, "Don’t make me laugh."

One crew member holds the sign again, and the audience laughs but they are soon yelled at to stop.

"I said don’t make me laugh!!!"

"All right, listen up. I’m Roronoa Zoro," Zoro spoke up, loud enough to gather everyone's attention. He turns to face Buggy and his crew. "Drop your weapons now and I may let you live."

Y/N has half a mind to yell at him asking what the fuck he was doing. Did he honestly think he could fight against all of these pirates? He doesn't even have his swords.

Buggy stares for a moment before letting out a mocking laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst."Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight."

The stage light went from them back to Buggy.

"Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale," The clown pulls out his weapon. A very intimidating metal sharp claws. "My freaks put quite a bit of rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can’t reward them with that map…" He moves to stand next to a man with sharp teeth. "I suppose I’ll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."

Oh, shit. shit this. This is bad. Like BAD bad. Bad enough for her to manipulate her way out of it, but for that she'll need to get the clown alo-

"Wait. Wait." Nami was standing in front of them, looking to make some sort of negotiation with the clown. "What if I have something else to offer you? Something more valuable than the map?"

That seems to gather a newfound interest in the pirate, who looks at nami in expectation.

"What if I give you an entertainer, a singer, the best I've ever heard," Nami said casting a quick glance in her way. Y/N's heart plummeted. No, she couldn't be doing that to her. Her heart sank even lower when Buggy's gaze shifted towards her, his blue eyes gleaming when he caught her form.

"And a new freak for your crew?" Nami continues, forcing the clown to look away. She was slowly moving next to Luffy, "A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all of the East Blue. Besides you, of course."

"Go on."

Nami takes Luffy's hat prompting a shout from the boy, she tosses it up into the air making Luffy use his devil fruit abilities and stretch his arm up high to catch the hat. And then, Nami was gone.

"Go after her," Buggy told one of his crew members who quickly ran after the orange-haired girl. He chuckles, looking at Luffy. He pulls out an apple from his pocket and a knife. "Well, isn't this just interesting?"

Y/N felt a surge of protest rising within her, a desire to shout out against the unfolding situation. Yet, she found herself engulfed in a sense of hopelessness, a feeling all too familiar from her past experiences. She knew well the torment of being confined within the hold of a pirate.

"It's fine," she whispered to herself, trying to muster some semblance of reassurance. I'll… I'll be fine. Despite her inner turmoil, she clung to a last resort—a secret move, a tactic she had saved for dire circumstances. All she needed was to find a moment alone with Buggy.

They soon bring a struggling Nami and a part of her is happy they did another part of her is annoyed she sells them out and still fails to escape.

"What did you do? What did you do to their town? You destroyed everything!" Nami exclaimed in anger.

As he ate the apple, Buggy nonchalantly replied, "Not everything. I let ’em keep their hands."

The signs were up again and the audience clapped in command.

"Okay," The clown throws away the remains of the apple and puts the knife back into his coat. "Here end the theatrics."

Suddenly, the lights flickered and dimmed until they focused solely on Buggy's figure, casting an eerie glow around him. His voice cut through the darkness with a sharp edge.

"I know one of you has my map," he declared, his tone laced with determination. "And I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?"

The tension in the air heightened as everyone present awaited Buggy's next move.

"Don’t look so surprised. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere," Buggy told the four of them with a smile, "So, please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room."

As two pirates seized Y/N from behind, she instinctively struggled against their grasp, her heart pounding in her chest. Nami too fought against her captors, but Zoro remained passive, seemingly indifferent to their plight. Just as they were about to drag Y/N away, the clown intervened.

"Not her," Buggy's voice commanded, halting the pirates in their tracks. They obediently turned Y/N to face their captain, whose blue eyes bore into her with a curious intensity. He closed the distance between them, his presence looming over her.

"Just for you, beautiful," Buggy addressed her, a smirk playing on his lips, "I'm willing to share my spotlight for a few moments and let you sing for us while my 'freaks' prepare the things for my chat with my stretchy new pal."

"Why would I?" Y/N retorted, summoning whatever semblance of courage she could muster to meet the clown's gaze. Ignoring the pirates that were dragging Luffy to sit with the audience. "I only sing when I have something to sing for…"

"Funny you think you have a choice," Buggy chuckled mischievously, his tone dripping with amusement, the sign was up so, naturally the audience laughed as well. He sauntered over to a high chair, resembling a throne, and settled into it with an air of superiority.

"Well, it's either that," he continued, gesturing towards Y/N, "or off with you. Though," he added with a smirk, "it'll be a shame to harm such a pretty girl like yourself."

His words hung in the air, a thinly veiled threat that left Y/N feeling trapped and vulnerable, caught between compliance and defiance.

Despite the overwhelming intimidation, Y/N took a moment to steady her breathing and gather her resolve. Nami was right about one thing – she was an entertainer, a performer. With that realization, a flicker of determination ignited within her.

With a deep breath, Y/N straightened her posture and let a confident smile grace her lips. She could do this. She could fake her charm, her confidence. After all, she had faced tough crowds before. This was just another performance, albeit under much more dire circumstances.

Y/N flashed a charming grin at Buggy, exuding confidence as the impromptu show began.

"Well, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with charisma, "lucky for you, I happen to have had my heart stomped a few days ago. You don't happen to have a guitar lying around, do you?"

Buggy's grin widened, and with a casual wave of his hand, a guitar was swiftly presented to her. As the rest of the crew dispersed, leaving her alone in the spotlight, Buggy's voice carried a warning tone.

"Don't make me regret giving you a share of my spotlight, sweetheart," he cautioned, his words tinged with a hint of threat.

Y/N meets Buggy's warning with a playful glint in her eye, maintaining her charismatic demeanor.

"Oh, don't you worry, Captain," she replies smoothly, her voice dripping with charm. "I'll make sure to dazzle everyone enough to ensure you shine even brighter. After all, what's a spotlight without a little sparkle, right?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N pivots gracefully, turning her attention to the assembled audience with a grin that belies the tension of the situation. With ease, she addresses them as if they were any other crowd, temporarily forgetting the dire circumstances of their gathering.

"Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves a full house, don't we?" she declares with a playful sparkle in her eyes, her voice projecting warmth and enthusiasm despite the unsettling circumstances.

"Ah, the joys of a heartbreak!" Y/N's grin takes on a mischievous edge as she continues, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"As you may have heard," she begins, her tone dripping with theatrical flair, "some clueless boy managed to break this ol' heart of mine. But fear not, for in the face of heartache, what does a songbird do? Why, she writes a song, of course!"

Pausing for dramatic effect, she lets a playful wink slip before continuing, "Sadly, it seems our heartbreaker won't have the pleasure of hearing it. But don't worry, my captive audience, for you lucky souls get a front-row seat to the grand performance!"

Her words draw a ripple of shy, soft laughter from the crowd, turning this sombre moment into a somewhat of lighthearted affair. Her eyes meet Luffy's browns for a moment, he seems to pay her his all attention.

With a graceful motion, Y/N turns her attention to the guitar, her fingers deftly plucking a few strings. The sound resonates through the room, filling the air with a gentle melody that carries hints of both melancholy and resolve.

" When as a wanderer, your shore I did find,

Adrift, I found refuge in arms so kind,

We braved the tempest, each in our own fights,

You sought fortune in shadows, while I relied on my charms

I danced with the night, whispered secrets to the moon,

You chased after gold, while I sang my tune

We wanted to forget our woes and drown them in our wine

Then one day you vanished, claiming I was not divine,"

As she plays, her gaze flickers between the strings and the captivated audience, her expression a mix of concentration and subtle charisma. Each note she strikes seems to weave a tale of heartache and resilience, drawing the audience deeper into the performance with every strum.

I saw you at your lowest, in your darkest fight

I know the struggles hidden from plain sight

Too bad I'm the love you lost, the bond you breached

Now what'll you do, when I'm gone evermore?"

As Y/N finishes the song, a hush falls over the room, the echoes of her performance lingering in the air like a haunting melody. In that suspended moment, time seems to stand still, every eye in the room fixated on Buggy, waiting for his reaction, well, except for Luffy, he was the only one giving a standing ovation.

"Wooh, yeah!" Luffy claps, a smile on his face as he turns to one of the pirates holding him. "That's my musician,"

Y/N, however, ignore him and turn to Buggy.

Y/N meets his piercing blue gaze, searching for any hint of emotion within them, but finds his expression inscrutable, a mask of unreadable intent. There's a tension in the air, palpable and electric, as the weight of the silence stretches on, leaving everyone on edge.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Buggy breaks the silence with a slow, deliberate clap, his expression betraying nothing but a hint of amusement. It's a subtle gesture, but it breaks the tension in the room. The sign to clap was up but Y/N has a feeling they would've clapped regardless. It's a moment of relief for Y/N, who can't help but feel a sense of validation wash over her.

"It seems orange-hair was not lying, huh?" Buggy remarks, his tone carrying a hint of sardonic amusement. The cheers stop at his command.

Y/N lets out a forced chuckle, her lips curling into a wry smile as she meets Buggy's gaze.

"Well, what can I say?" she quips with a hint of playful sarcasm, "I did promise not to disappoint, didn't I? And trust me, darling, I always keep my promises, even when it involves serenading a bunch of pirates in a not-so-friendly setting."

Buggy's chuckle sends a shiver down Y/N's spine as he rises from his seat and advances towards her. Y/N fights to conceal the tremor of intimidation that courses through her, maintaining a facade of composure as he leans in to whisper.

"You could make a wonderful addition to my crew," he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with an air of intrigue. “Irreplaceable, even.”

While the idea of joining his crew fills her with trepidation and disgust, she knows better than to outright reject him, especially considering his unpredictable nature. Like most men.

With a steady gaze and a flicker of determination in her eyes, Y/N meets Buggy's gaze, her voice steady as she replies, "Well, Captain, it's certainly a tempting offer. But you'll have to forgive me if I take a moment to weigh my options. After all, I'm not one to jump ship without careful consideration."

Buggy regards her for a moment, then he smiles as he pulls back. His smile sends a shiver down Y/N's spine, but she maintains her facade of composure as he pulls back, granting her a temporary reprieve.

"Alright, I'll give you time to think it over…" he concedes, his tone deceptively genial.

Y/N's heart sinks as she watches him walk over to where Luffy is, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. Before she can react, two pirates seize her again.

"Until he gives me my map, that is," Buggy adds casually, his words a stark reminder of the precarious position Y/N finds herself in.

As the pirates begin to drag her away, Y/N's heart pounds with a mixture of fear and determination. She casts a fleeting glance back at Luffy, a silent vow forming in her mind to find a way out of this predicament.

Soon, she was being tied down into a chair.

"Fuck you, Nami," Y/N spat out her frustration as soon as the pirates left them alone, her tone tinged with irritation. "Why would you do that?"

Inside her cage, Nami rolled her eyes in response. "It's survival of the fittest out here, Y/N," she retorted, her voice laced with resignation.

Y/N can't help but roll her eyes in return. She knows that in this cutthroat world, everyone looks out for themselves, but she had foolishly hoped for some semblance of a relationship with Nami only to be sorely disappointed.

"The least you could've done was actually manage to actually escape. You sold us in vain." Y/N chastised with a disapproving tsk.

"For what it's worth," Nami glanced towards the entrance of the crew's dressing rooms before skillfully picking the lock of her cage. "I am trying to get us out."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to trust Nami's words. Turning to Zoro, who was bound to a circular board nearby, she asked, "Do you believe her?"

"Don't have much of a choice," Zoro replies with a nonchalant shrug, just as a loud shout from outside makes them all snap their heads towards the entrance. It's Luffy's voice. "Better work faster."

As Y/N tries to free herself from the bounds, she realises that she's worried about Luffy because, despite his exasperating antics and seemingly reckless behaviour, she can't help but feel a pang of worry for him.

The bounds were tight but not enough to cut circulation just tight enough to leave burn marks when she moved them too much which she does.

Feeling the burn of the tight bounds against her skin, Y/N winced but pressed on, determined to free herself.

"That's only hurting you," Nami said sparing Y/N a glance before continuing to pick her lock.

Nami's words of caution brought a moment of pause, but Y/N couldn't afford to let fear hold her back. "I'll be fine,"

Nami rolls her eyes, then she glances at Zoro, he, too was trying to free himself.

 "What?" The boy asks.

Nami continues with her work, "This is my life now."

"You want to trade places?"

"Both of you shut up," There was a rustling sound just making its way to them, "Shit. Someone’s coming."

Nami stops her work and looks at the entrance. "I need more time. Keep them talking."

"I don’t talk." Zoro said, "I hit things."

"I'll do it," Y/N announced.

Seconds later, a pirate with a striking mix of black and white hair and a blue and white square pattern scarf bursts into the room, riding his monocycle with an air of undeniable flair. He comes to a stop right in front of Zoro, his gaze fixed firmly on the bound swordsman.

Y/N, who would have found the scene comical under different circumstances, straightens up, suppressing the urge to laugh. Instead, she puts on her best flirtatious grin and clears her throat, preparing to address the newcomer.

"Hey there, handsome," Y/N begins, her voice dripping with playful charm. "I bet your captain's got you on a tight leash, but do you think you could...?"

"Shut up, whore!" The pirate said not taking his eyes off Zoro.

Y/N's jaw was on the floor. Well, that came out of nowhere.

"I'm not an expert but I'm sure you don't talk to ladies like that," Zoro, ever nonchalant, unexpectedly comes to her defense, much to Y/N's surprise.

The pirate disregards Zoro and instead questions, "Remember me?"

"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown." Zoro mocks.

Y/N flinches as the pirate with black and white hair delivers a punch to Zoro's stomach.

"I've been thinking about you for years," the pirate hisses, his voice dripping with resentment. "About how you killed my brother."

"I killed a lot of pirates." Zoro deadpanned.

The pirate, named Cabaji, scowls as he begins to recount their past encounter. "My name is Cabaji, and a couple of years back, you hunted us across the Goa Kingdom," he explains, pulling out two knives. ""Followed us for weeks through the swamp lands, day and night, never relenting, like some kind of demon."

The three of them shared a look. A silent understanding between them. This was it, the distraction. Cabaji glances at the two girls as he backs away from Zoro.

"Still not ringing a bell," Zoro remarks casually, prompting Cabaji to throw a knife dangerously close to his head.

"You cut off his head and you stuffed it in a bag, all for a few Berry." Cabaji accuses, his voice heavy with accusation.

Zoro sighs, briefly closing his eyes before conceding, "Okay, that does sound like me."

The air becomes thick with tension as the two men lock gazes, the looming threat of violence hanging between them.

"Let's see if you can keep your head," Cabaji declares, moving to the side of the circular structure and spinning it, taking Zoro along for the ride.

With each knife thrown, Y/N can't help but avert her eyes, unable to witness the imminent danger befalling the swordsman. As minutes tick by and Y/N finally dares to steal a glance at Zoro, she's taken aback by his unwavering composure. Despite the imminent threat of the spinning structure and the barrage of knives, Zoro remains eerily calm, his expression betraying no hint of fear or panic.

Watching him close his eyes and maintain his stoic demeanor in the face of danger, Y/N can't help but feel a surge of admiration mingled with astonishment. It shouldn't surprise her, knowing Zoro's reputation for unshakeable resolve, but somehow it does.

Y/N shifts her gaze to Nami, and in that brief exchange of eye contact, a silent understanding passes between them. She's close to opening the lock.

"You really don’t fear death, do you?" Cabaji asks after his tenth throw.

"No," Zoro said as the structure came to a halt, "I just don’t fear you."

Cabaji throws yet another knife before approaching Zoro "You know, I’m gonna enjoy this. As soon as Captain Buggy’s finished with you, you’re mine."

"Uh, tempting as that sounds, I’m not sticking around." Zoro slowly opens his eyes and focuses on the pirate.

"Really? Got somewhere else to be?"

"Didn’t used to think so. But Luffy changed that." Zoro said.

"That simpleton in a straw hat." Cabaji scoffs, "Don’t tell me you actually believe in him?"

"I don’t need to. He believes in himself." Zoro admits and shrugs, "It rubs off."

As Nami swiftly and silently cuts Y/N's bonds, relief floods through her as she rubs her sore wrists. With newfound freedom, she wastes no time positioning herself behind Cabaji, who is too engrossed in Zoro's words to notice her approach.

"And one more thing."

Cabaji continues to laugh as Zoro warns him.

"Don’t turn around."

In a split second, Y/N seizes the opportunity, delivering a powerful punch straight to Cabaji's nose. The force of the blow sends him staggering backwards. With Cabaji momentarily stunned, Zoro takes advantage, freeing one of his arms to grab hold of the pirate's throat, applying pressure with a steely grip while Nami frees his other arm.

"And by the way, you're brother's the whore," Y/N said to the Cabaji just moments before the pirate passed out.

"What's the plan?" Asks Zoro, retreating his swords.

Y/N takes hold of her war fans. "We go for Luffy,"

"Yeah but how?" Zoro turns to Nami, "You do have a plan, right? That’s your thing, plans."

"I say we beat the hell out of every clown we see." Nami declares, her eyes flickering between them mischievously as she brandishes her fighting stick.

Y/N chuckles in agreement, elegantly fanning her fans to reveal the gleaming blades within. "Well, isn't that a delightful idea," she quips with a smirk. "I've always had a knack for cutting through the foolery."

With a wink exchanged between Y/N and Zoro, a shared understanding passing between them, Zoro chuckles before they both follow Nami out.

As they navigate through the chaos of the circus tent, the trio encounters a shower of fools intent on blocking them. With a seamless display of skill and coordination, they engage the freaks in a fight.

Nami leads the charge, her fighting sticks a blur as she deflects incoming blows and delivers precise strikes. Each swing is calculated, each movement fluid and efficient as she exploits weaknesses in the clown's defences.

Beside her, Zoro moves with the grace of a great swordsman, his swords lethal as he cuts through the ranks of clowns with unmatched precision. His strikes are powerful and decisive, each blow landing with devastating force as he clears a path forward.

And Y/N adds her own flair to the fray, her fans flashing in the dim light of the tent as she gracefully dances between pirates. With a flick of her wrist, she spreads the fans, revealing the razor-sharp blades concealed within. Each movement is deliberate, and calculated, as she gracefully weaves through the chaos of the fight effortlessly dispatching any clown foolish enough to challenge her.

As they finally reach the main stage, Y/N's heart lurches at the sight before her. There, in the center of the stage, Luffy struggles against the confines of a tank filled with water. Memories flood Y/N's mind, images of a similar tank from her past flashing before her eyes with haunting clarity.

She tries to hold back a shudder as the familiar dread grips her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. The sight of Luffy, trapped and struggling, serves as a painful reminder, stirring emotions that she had long tried to bury but with a deep breath, Y/N pushes aside the memories, focusing instead on the task at hand.

With a swift and precise throw, Nami hurls her fighting stick towards the tank, the impact causing the glass to crack and splinter. Y/N watches with bated breath as the cracks spiderweb across the surface, spreading like veins of ice.

"Where are my freaks?" Buggy exclaimed looking around the circus.

Zoro appears on the other end, holding his two swords. "They're not coming,"

Finally, the tank gave way with a resounding crash. As the glass shatters, water gushes forth in a torrent, cascading to the ground in a rush of freedom letting Luffy out and soaking Buggy to the ground.

After he inhales some air, Luffy exhales the map. Ugh!

"My map!" Buggy crawls to the map.

Luffy, on the other hand, "My hat!"

Y/N turned her gaze towards the laughing clown, he took hold of the map while Luffy was hugging his hat. With careful steps, the trio approaches him.

"You want a piece of me?" The clown challenges them once he notices their approach. "Let’s see what you got."

Without hesitation, Zoro lunges forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. But to their astonishment, the clown doesn't fall. Instead, he splits into pieces, his laughter ringing out triumphantly as he effortlessly reassembles himself.

"Surprise, shithead!" Buggy crows with glee, his laughter echoing through the chaos.

Y/N, Zoro and Nami gather together as Buggy manically laughing starts to split himself into more pieces.

"What the hell?" Y/N yells as Buggy's body parts begin to fly around them.

Zoro's brow furrows in frustration as he watches the spectacle. "How do I slice a guy who's already in pieces?"

"This is not part of the plan," Nami grits her teeth, holding tightly to her fighting stick.

With a grunt of frustration, Y/N pushes away a stray hand that reaches for her, her mind racing as she tries to formulate a strategy amidst the chaos. "Yeah, no shit."

Despite their best efforts, the trio find themselves quickly overwhelmed by the onslaught of flying body parts. Zoro is slammed against the tank, Nami is hurled off the stage, and Y/N is sent crashing into a pile of crates, pain shooting through her side as she struggles to regain her footing amidst the chaos.

"Fuck," She hisses, placing a hand on the sore spot. She braces herself up watching as Buggy pulls out his metallic claws and slices himself again.

"Chop-Chop Cannon!!" His hands and arms start to rotate while his legs start to fly about in chaos.

Luffy does his best to dodge and punch and actually manages to reach Buggy but is soon pushed off him. The claws though, do manage to get Luffy's straw hat.

Buggy laughs and when Luffy goes to recollect his hat he is tripped and pushed to the ground.

Y/N's heart pounds with panic as she watches Buggy's hand find its way to Luffy's throat, threatening to choke the life out of him. In a desperate bid to save Luffy, she scans the area for anything that could aid them in their fight.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, inspiration strikes. With a quick glance at the crates nearby, Y/N's mind races with a plan.

"Luffy, Nami. The crates!" Y/N shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos as she rushes to one and flings it open.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Luffy manages to break free from Buggy's grasp, tearing the hand off his throat and hurling it towards Nami. Acting on instinct, Nami uses her fighting stick to send Buggy's hand hurtling towards the open crate, which Y/N swiftly closes, trapping the appendage inside.

One by one, the four of them began to trap the clown's body parts inside the boxes until only his head, hands and feet were all he had.

"What have you done to me?"

Luffy grins, "Cut you down to size."

"The One Piece will never be yours." Buggy all but growls in frustration. "You’re just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man’s hat!"

"I know exactly who I am," Luffy puts on his straw hat and with his usual smile he turns to Buggy. "I am Monkey D. Luffy. And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates."

Y/N chuckles to herself. He really has an indomitable spirit.

Luffy stretches both his hands back, "Gum Gum…

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! No, no, no! Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait." Buggy pleads but Luffy is already spitting out.

"Bazooka!!"

And with a scream, Buggy's head is launched off the circus.

With a beaming smile, Luffy picks up the map and strides to the center of the stage, where Zoro, Y/N, and Nami are gathering. He extends the map towards the orange-haired girl, his expression filled with unwavering confidence.

"You're giving this to me?" Nami asks, her disbelief barely concealed beneath her facade of composure.

Luffy's grin widens. "You're the navigator," he replies simply, his faith in her abilities unwavering.

"Let's get out of this clown show," Zoro interjects, his tone tinged with impatience as he eagerly anticipates their departure.

Y/N nods in agreement, her hands deftly stowing away her fans back into her waistline. "Yeah, I've had my fill of this place,"

But Luffy's focus remains unwavering as he turns to address the others, his gaze sweeping over the captive audience.

"Still, there's one more thing we have to do," he declares, his eyes meeting those of his companions. "We have to set them free."

With determined hearts, they set about freeing the captive audience, their collective resolve aimed at bringing an end to the clown's tyranny.

"Are you our new captors?" an old man asks Luffy, his voice tinged with confusion.

Luffy tilts his head, a hint of bemusement in his expression. "What?"

"Well, you're a pirate, aren't you?" the old man persists, struggling to comprehend the act of kindness from someone associated with piracy.

"I'm a different kind of pirate," Luffy replies simply, his words carrying a weight of sincerity that belies his reputation.

Y/N shares a knowing glance with Luffy as she frees a child from his shackles, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Despite the odds, Luffy's unwavering determination and genuine compassion are beginning to win her over, gradually eroding her skepticism and replacing it with a newfound sense of admiration.

As they make their way through the town, the sun casts its warm rays upon the streets, a stark contrast to the wreckage left in the wake of Buggy's crew. Despite the devastation, a sense of relief fills the air as the townsfolk emerge from their hiding places, grateful to be free from the clutches of the circus from hell.

As Y/N walks alongside her companions towards their ship, she is greeted by a stream of townspeople, each one expressing their gratitude and admiration for her performance. Some approach her with heartfelt thanks, while others request the pleasure of hearing her sing again.

"We don't have much," the mayor of the town approaches them, offering a basket of food, "but please, take this as a token of our... of our gratitude."

Luffy shakes his head, a generous smile on his face. "You need it more than we do,"

Y/N wiggles her fingers in farewell as she follows Nami, Luffy, and Zoro to make their way back to their ship. As they approach, she notices Luffy darting back towards the mayor, returning for a piece of bread with a cheerful grin.

Once aboard the small ship, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief as she realizes all her belongings are still intact. With a sense of purpose, she joins Nami and Luffy in preparing the ship for their journey ahead.

Waving one last time to the shouting townsfolk, Y/N can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The warm farewells of the townsfolk echo in her ears, a reminder of the impact they've had on the lives of others.

A few minutes into their journey, Y/N sits next to Zoro with a tired sigh. The swordsman's eyes are closed and his arms are crossed, she gazes at the sundown, a pretty hue surrounding them- when was the last time she enjoyed a sunny day? Right with Cygnus, that feels like a lifetime ago...

"Hey, you need help with that?" Nami's voice cuts through the serenity, pulling Y/N's attention away from the mesmerizing sunset.

Luffy's puzzled frown prompts her to tense up momentarily as Nami reaches for his straw hat. But instead of causing harm, Nami begins to carefully repair it, her skilled hands weaving the threads with practised precision. Y/N can't help but reconsider her latest thoughts of the navigator as she watches her work.

"Why did you freak out?" Zoro's voice startles her out of her thoughts.

Y/N turns to face the boy, but his eyes are still closed. " What? When did I-"

"Back inside of the box," Zoro said, his voice ever raspy but silent as if he knew she didn't want the others to hear.

"Oh," Y/N blinks, she didn't think he'd notice that, yeah sure she was freaking out but they all were, weren't they? She clears her throat, trying to mask her discomfort as she reaches for her guitar, seeking comfort in its familiar presence. "It's nothing special, really."

"What does 'not again' mean then?" Zoro asks turning his head and opening his eyes to look at her.

Y/N fakes a grin, "I'm just not a fan of enclosed spaces, that's all, hot shot,"

Zoro stares at her for a moment and Y/N stares back. Some of the light of the day cast shadows on his face. She can't tell if he's convinced by her excuse or not. She hopes he is.

Thankfully her silent wishes are answered, Zoro closes his eyes again and turns to face forward. "You better not make any noise, I'm trying to rest,"

Y/N flashes Zoro a mischievous grin in response to his warning. "Noise? Oh, you have it all wrong, hot shot," she quips, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "I don't make noise, I compose symphonies of sound that would make even the sea itself dance to my tune but Don't worry, hot shot, I'll keep it down… unless you want to hear a little tune to lull you to sleep, I promise to find a lullaby you enjoy."

Zoro's lips twitch with amusement, and Y/N can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

"You fixed it," Y/N's head turns to see Luffy taking his hands from Nami with a smile. "Thanks."

"Well, you said it was your treasure, right?"

As Nami rises and heads towards the cabin, Y/N meets her gaze, and in that silent exchange, they share a moment of understanding. Any lingering tension between them dissipates, replaced by mutual respect and perhaps some camaraderie.

"Is every day gonna be this crazy with you?" Zoro's question breaks the silence, drawing Y/N's attention.

Luffy joins them, settling in front of them with a thoughtful expression. "Shanks always said… that if the path to what you want seems too easy… then you're on the wrong path."

Y/N nods in agreement, impressed by the insight of this mysterious Shanks character.

"Smart guy," she remarks, her curiosity piqued by the mention of someone who clearly holds significance in Luffy's life.

Zoro, ever the stoic swordsman, opens his eyes and nods in quiet contemplation. "Yeah, this Shanks guy sounds all right,"

Luffy's face breaks into a wide grin as he rises to his feet, his excitement palpable. With boundless energy, he dashes to the bow of the ship, his voice ringing out with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Next stop, the Grand Line!" he shouts, pointing a finger ahead towards the vast expanse of ocean that stretches out before them.

Shaking her head in amusement, Y/N feels a foreign surge of excitement coursing through her veins. With Luffy at the helm, she knows that her days with him, as long as they may be, will be anything but dull. The question is, will they be dangerous or not.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love, be safe.

Divider by @cafekitsune

[writer-logbook]

My story doesn't have a villain, so what ?

Does a story really need a villain ? What is a stake where there's none ? How can the protagonist evolve when they've got no one to face ?

In which I explain how the conflict can lie elsewhere - and it's a bit more challenging yet sometimes more interesting.

The world, and society in general. They are often a good starting point to create tension in your novel (because everything is most certainly wrong everywhere lol). For example : what happens if you don't share the beliefs of your city ? What choices can make you defy the current order and break the status quo ? It's a convenient way to plot distopian books, but it's not yet a cliché because of to the complexity of the trope and the different aspects you can explore as it is broad.

The complexity of your characters : the personal quest. The famous "You are your own worst ennemy" is a actually very effective in this case - but any other significant event, trauma, fear etc. can be consistent enough to be the core of a novel. I believe the journey is more important than the "plot" or the ending itself. The path of finding answers, healing and overcoming a traumatic event is easy to suggest, harder to write about, yet somehow always powerfull. I think it's hard to be cliché with 'personal quest' trope because everyone deals with their suffering in such different ways that you can't be exploring it twice. (Or it can be something lighter, like the pursuit of an artistic dream).

Various characters, same event. Multiple POVs are a great way of exploring all the aspects of the issue, based on the different beliefs and perceptions that drive your character. For this to be really effective, you need to have characters who do not share the same opinion on the subject. It doesn't have to be a difficult idea to come up with. For instance: in a futuristic world, you can choose what to do with your memories: keep them or erase them. Some people will argue in favour of the process (because you can erase a traumatic event), others will argue against it, saying that memory is what makes a person. In that kind of scenario, morality plays a huge role.

A destabilising event, much bigger than ourselves or a discovery that could shape the future. A destabilizing event, much bigger than ourselves or a discovery that can shape the futur. Think of that sci-fi novel where the end of the world is brought about by an incoming asteroid. It's the same thing. Either you try to avoid it, or you try to accept it, or you try to fight it. Each way is valuable to a story, if you create some consistent characters.

To conclude : we have to think a bit more about what is at stake when no one actually treathen the peace of the community. There's no manichaeism, we have to go beyond good and evil ; the solution isn't clear - sometimes there's none at all. And that's okay.

Thanks for all the kudos and reblogs, I feel relieved to see that my posts are of some help ! ❤

If it's a bit fuzzy for you, let me quickly explain what my story is about, because that's what motivates me to write this essay.

My MC is a priest in a religious town that is suddenly plagued by an unknown and incurable disease. She tries to get used to it, until her family contracts it. She manages to acquire the power of the goddess and, doing so, shakes the foundations of her entire city and society, believing that she is now able to act. There's no villain whatsoever, just a poor girl trying not to see her family dies and who has to face the consequences of her own actions.

[prentissluvr]

finding warmth [ too cold pt. two ] — joel & tommy miller

gn!reader , fatherfigures!joel & tommy , ft ellie ! , angst, hurt/comfort , cw : heavy mentions of loss of loved ones , panic attack , maybe disassociation , nightmares , wc : 3.4K , pt. one here !

“there it is. jackson.” it’s four simple words and one single view from a cliffside that manages to take your breath away.

it looks like a paradise in the middle of this hell of a world, looking down upon it from here. the protective walls are high and vast, and the cluster of buildings looks lively, though you can’t even see the people of the town from this vantage point.

you can’t tear your eyes from it, finding yourself truly speechless.

“we’ll be there in no time. it’s even better up close.” you can vaguely hear the amusement in joel’s voice as he likely takes in your astonished expression. nodding, you find it in yourself to bring your gaze back to the man sitting in front you, sending him a grateful smile.

joel isn’t completely right, though, as for you, the remainder of the ride feels somehow like both the “no time” that he promised, but also one of the longest stretches of anticipation that you’ve felt in a long, long time. much like your physical state of hypothermia the day prior, you have become accustomed to an odd state of emotional numbness, where you feel nothing but a deep sense of hopelessness. the pain of loss never left you, but for long months now, it’s manifested in the horridness of nothing. so now, to be feeling so much is an odd sensation. half of you wants to push it away in favor of self-preservation. look where feelings have gotten you. but the other part of you tugs at it, trying to pull the emotions out from where they must have been hiding. part of you yearns for it. the anticipation, both anxious and almost excited. the gratitude. the foreign feeling of a spark of hope.

what joel is completely right about is the fact that this place is far better up close. the border is higher than you imagined, and the liveliness of people in the town once you’re let in is immediately apparent. there’s far more people than you would have thought, parents and children, siblings and even people growing old. it’s overwhelming, to say the least, but it’s wonderful regardless.

as your gaze sweeps through everything, trying to take it all in, you catch tommy’s eye, and he grins at you brightly. you can’t help but return a smile, however hesitant it may be.

as promised, you’re taken to the town doctor right after dropping the horses off at the stable. you do your best not to shy away from him, wanting to stay hidden behind the two brothers who brought you here as you had on the walk over. but, you don’t have to stay long, as the doctor explains that, with joel and tommy’s help, you’re well on the mend. all he tells you is to continue to stay bundled up and avoid going outside too much.

but that brings you to your next issue. where do you stay to avoid the cold… to settle down? it seems most people aren’t alone here, and you can’t imagine it's easy for anyone to have an unknown teenager crashing in one’s home.

tommy’s kind voice quickly pulls you out of your worried thoughts, unintentionally answering your unspoken, anxiety-fueled questions. “we’ll look for a more permanent space for you to stay in, but for now, we thought you could stay in joel’s spare room for now. that sound alright to you?”

“of course,” you confirm, relieved to hear that you’ll be able to stay with someone familiar, at least for now. “thank you,” you mumble slightly as you speak.

“sure thing, kiddo. you should know that i live with another kid around your age. she’s a little,” joel pauses, searching for the right word, “fiesty,” he decides on, “but she’ll show you around town.”

“if either of them get too annoying,” tommy refers to his brother and this girl he lives with, who you’d assume to be his daughter, but he never said anything about that like one normally would, so you let that thought slide, focusing in on tommy’s playful tone, “then you can come find me right across the street. my wife’ll knock some sense into them,” he chuckles. you return a small laugh, grateful for his willingness to joke around in attempts to make you feel more comfortable.

but you can’t bring yourself to open up like him, so you settle on what you hope is an amicable, “alright,” using the single word as an acknowledgement to both joel’s previous statement and tommy’s joke.

by the time you’re settled in joel’s spare room, it’s almost time for dinner, the sun dipping lower and lower by the minute. sitting on the edge of the ricketty twin sized bed, a luxury you haven’t had in who knows how long, you replay your introduction to ellie.

something had felt a little bit odd, almost as if she were the one that felt protective over joel. she wasn’t mean, per se, but she hadn’t felt the most welcoming, as if she were wary of you and what your presence could mean. you couldn’t blame her, though, you agreed one could never be too careful in this world. she did seem to relax when joel told her you’d only be staying with them temporarily. another thing you couldn’t figure out was their relationship. they acted like family, father and daughter, but again, those words were never said. she only called him joel.

that was another thing you easily let slide, though, silently understanding. you knew what it was like for someone who shared none of your blood to be more like family than anyone who technically was. and you knew what it was like to lose them, so you couldn’t blame ellie’s hesitation at joel bringing in some random, shivering kid like yourself who’s clearly relying on him.

you begin to wonder if it would have been better to stay with tommy, but you remind yourself he’s probably busy with his wife and baby. there was another thing that astounded you about this place. he has a baby. and that baby is safe here, has a chance to grow up in a way kids haven’t for more than twenty years. almost normal, or what used to be normal. of course, you’d know nothing about that. your normal, what you know is ellie’s normal, is fear and caution and limitations.

now suddenly, impossibly overwhelmingly, there’s so much more for you. people who have thus far proven good in their intentions, who have cared enough to protect you, help you. there’s safety surrounding you, and in that, an inch of freedom to have things. here, kids go to school, and, according to joel, it’s nothing like fedra school. they have a library, for god’s sake. as you walked past it, tommy told you that it’s really quite small, nothing like what they used to have. but it’s gotta be more than you’ve ever had access to.

it’s amazing. so much so, it’s almost too much. too much to process how much your life has changed in just days, how much easier you thought it would ever to have a sense of hope crawling its way back up your throat. 

there’s a knock on your door, and someone clears their throat from the hallway.

“come in,” you said, hoping there’s nothing on your face that betrays how much you’re thinking about right now.

the door creaks open, just enough for joel to poke his head in. “thought we could go grab some dinner? just realized we didn’t feed you all that well on the way over.”

“sounds great.” you hadn’t realized either, used to the hunger. but at the mention, or rather the promise of food, you can’t help but water at the mouth. 

i’m starving, you realize, and maybe for more than just food.

—

out of everything wonderful and new, your favorite place is by far the mess hall. that’s part of the reason why you’re so delighted when ellie invites you to go to lunch with her. that and the fact that, for the past two weeks, you’ve been juggling with the idea that maybe she hates you.

of course, that’s not fair of you to think, and you know it, especially not as she’s begun to warm up to you the past few days. you feel as though you understand at least a little bit why she hasn’t been as warm to you as tommy and joel have been. but you can’t help yourself in wanting her to like you. she’s similar in age to you, and she seems enjoyable to be around with the way she teases joel about whatever she can and makes him cringe with bad jokes.

so yes, you may feel a little overly excited when she knocks on your door and asks if you want to go grab lunch together. of course, you don’t act out half as much as you feel, feeling consistently better staying quiet and edging on unreadable. but, you still shoot her a small smile as you accept her invitation, even if you feel like she may be saying it just because joel asked her to.

you don’t care though, happily trudging along to the mess hall, excited for both food and the opportunity to make ellie like you just a little bit.

when you sit down, plates full of food, the conversation is a little bit awkward, but it’s there nonetheless. she asks you about how you feel about jackson, and you try not to let on how complicated everything feels in your head.

but it seems she picks up on a hint of all the things you’re not saying, and that seems to make her open up a bit more.

“i know it’s a lot coming here after… yknow, all the shit out there. it’s great, but it’s still strange,” she starts. “might sound crazy, but i still feel out of place here sometimes,” she admits.

you nod, taking in her words, grateful for her assurance. “yeah. it is weird,” you agree.

she mirrors the same shake of your head. “so, uh. if you ever need any help finding your way or anything…” she clears her throat as if she’s unsure of her words, “you can ask me,” her voice quickly returns to the confidence and playfulness it normally holds, “that way you don’t have to rely on crabby old dudes like joel and tommy.”

you let yourself laugh at that. “thank you,” you smile, hoping she can see how much you mean it.

the rest of the meal flows far more easily than you expected, the conversation turning to more casual subjects. she even cracks one of her awful jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to complain about it because for some reason it feels like it means something. not much, but something, like she sees you as someone she can share a part of herself with, even if it’s small. so when she makes the corniest joke you may have ever heard, you just grin and cringe a little. and that makes her laugh, which makes you smile harder.

so maybe that’s why, walking down the streets back home, she feels more like a friend than the stranger you met not too long ago.

that’s when the foreign feeling of contentedness—the one that’s just begun to try and seep into your thawing heart—is ripped away, as if it’s a leech sucking up your once constant caution.

all it takes is the poorly timed yell of a name along with a shrill shriek to take your breath away. this time you’re not in awe of the safety of this place. this time, you’ve been taken back to the most dangerous of your memories.

you freeze in place, so silent that ellie doesn’t even notice that you’re not walking with her for a moment. she stops in her tracks, turning back to you with a confused expression. but by the time she’s back in front of you, asking if you’re okay, her voice is already distant.

you’re trying to explain to yourself what happened. someone yelled that name, but it’s not her. her name, yes, but not her. she’s dead now. and the scream. that came from a playing child, one you’re sure was just too excited by a game of tag. 

but it’s no use, not when you’re already too far gone, with flashes of bloody fighting and echoes of horrified screams battering your senses and detaching you from reality. all you know is that you’re fighting to breathe, and you feel as though you’re drowning right out in the open.

you stumble forward, and you’re vaguely aware of ellie leading you to a pole to lean on. she’s trying to tell you that you’re alright, but your memories drown out anything she says. another blurry figure appears in front of you, and somehow when he calls your name, it cuts through your senses, crystal clear.

“you’re alright,” he says, such assurance filling his voice that it almost convinces you too. then you’re able to think, it’s tommy. “you’re safe here. you’re not there anymore.”

you gasp at his words, reaching out to him with the hand not gripping the pole. immediately, he steps closer, and your hand latches onto his upper arm while his softly holds your elbow. in the back of your mind it feels unnatural for you to fall into his embrace the way that you do, but the part of you that craves comfort takes over in this moment. he’s warm and his shoulders are broad, and it’s as if his presence blocks out everything else. that’s what lets your mind quiet, your breathing even out.

when you part and he wipes gently at your tears for just a quick moment, that’s when embarrassment hits. you feel more than awkward, and a little uncomfortable with this sort of display of vulnerability, and yet a piece of you still embraces the thought of allowing the results of it into your life. you already crave his embrace again, you know you’ll want it when the nightmares come.

but nonetheless, you put your head up high and try to keep your voice firm as if to convince everyone that, yes, you’re alright and you’re no longer weak. in reality, you still feel shaken. it’s been a while since you’ve relived that night like that. it seems that letting go of your numbness brings back everything, including the most unwelcome.

back in your room, cooped up there even as the sun begins to set, you battle with yourself. you don’t want to let go of the things that you’re finding along with the warmth that’s beginning to replace the cold that had settled in your bones. but you don’t want to have anything to lose. when you’re warm, there’s always the chance to lose it, never safe from blizzards or blades.

you know practically that it’s far safer here than anywhere else, that here you have the best chance of holding onto something and having it stay heavy in your hands.

but you ignore it all when ellie knocks on your door, then when joel calls out to you from the hallway, asking for you to come out and have dinner with them. and you fall asleep thinking that it’s best if tommy never hugs you again, if you never share the saddle on a horse with joel another time.

—

and yet, you were right in your prediction; that when the nightmares came, you’d crave to be held in arms that felt like they cared, the very same way you had been months and months ago before you lost it all.

that’s the scariest part, waking up in a cold sweat, your heart beating a million miles an hour, and realizing that no matter what happens, no matter how much you lose and tell yourself you’ll never let anyone caring for you mean anything, you still want to be held. because you’re afraid, you’re bewildered, and you can’t remember where the hell you are. but you know someone outside of that door cares and that’s what pulls you out of the bed and into the hallway, stumbling and out of breath. you’re not even sure who, or why, but the people you loved most just died in your dreams, so you don’t care. maybe it’s them, maybe it’s all just a nightmare. you dare to hope and it seems as though that’s always your fatal mistake.

firm hands on your shoulders make you jolt in surprise, then fear. the hoarse scream that follows startles you too until you realize the sound came from your own mouth. there’s a gruff voice, saying your name softly, hushing you, telling you you’re alright. it’s not them, you realize. and they are dead. they have been.

“joel?” you croak out, half sobbing as he comes into focus. you hadn’t realized before, but your hands cling to fistfuls of his sleeping shirt.

“i’m here, it’s me. you’re alright. everything’s alright, kiddo,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, but it still retains that firmness that begins to ground you. but you shake your head as he pulls you into his chest, grieving for things that you lost all over again. he sighs like he knows what you mean. you suppose he does though, because it’s hard to meet someone who hasn’t lost something they never thought they could. so instead of lying and saying that it’s fine, he says, “i’m sorry,” and you know that he is, but not in the way that stings and makes you think, you have no idea. the tone of his voice tells you he has every idea, knows it all, lost it all.

and so it feels less pitiful to cry into his arms, even when you know that ellie came out of her room after your scream woke her up. even when your chest still wars at you, yelling to pull away, to run away, as far as you can. that you’re not allowed to have this anymore, all for the same reason as before; you can’t lose nothing. but you know that you hate having nothing, and that there’s something right in front of you, all around you, that’s being offered up like warm food on a silver platter. and when you’re hungry and cold, there’s nothing wrong, no, there is everything right in taking the offer and saying thank you.

so you do.

“thank you,” you whisper into his chest as your tears begin to subside, and in that moment you don’t know that he wishes there was a way to say “of course,” and have you know just how much he means it.

“course,” he says simply, and it makes you sigh into his embrace so he feels a little better about it, because you’ve relaxed in his arms just a bit. even as you’re no longer crying, he lets you stay there, he doesn’t want to take away his warmth without you being ready to part first. so he waits and eyes ellie’s door, knowing she left it slightly open in case you need anything, and knowing she’ll want his reassurance that she’s still his after seeing you in his arms. but the crack in the door still tells him she cares enough about you to let him take care of you first.

so he does.

he rubs your back, and lets the air be silent, quiet just for you. and when you pull away from him, just a little, he takes a small step back and puts a hand on your back to guide you back into your room. he pulls the covers up when you climb in bed and doesn’t say anything he knows you don’t want him to. all he tells you is that he’ll be right back with a cup of water and a snack for you. and when comes back, he just sets it on the bedside table for you, and doesn't push you to eat or drink. when he makes his way back to your door, he stops in the frame and tries to sound like it's normal to tell you to come get him if you need anything, and that there’s no shame if you do. 

he just wants you to know he’s there to help. luckily for you, and luckily for him, you do know, and you try to fall asleep with that weighing on your heart. you want to accept that the weight is far better, far warmer, than nothing.

—

thank you for everyone who asked to be tagged !! i hope you all enjoy part two as much as, if not more than, you did part one !! @taraiel , @lizlil , @your-shifting-gurl, @thetiredtoad0-0, @groggygrogu, @ackermanbitch, @midgetpottermills, @lovelyygirl8, @s0upm1x, @imonmykneessir, @cozyphine [ bold i couldn't tag ! ]

i won't be doing a part three but i likely will do drabbles from this universe later !! <33 thanks for the love on part one <33

[mymindhesmine]

His Favroite Star, The Sun

💌 pairing: Zayne X Reader X Sylus (Love Triangle)

💌author's note:

Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this, this is my first post here on tumblr! Before starting the post please read this! This is a fanfic in an AU from the Love and Deep Space storyline. Details such as back stories, present events and others will differ from the games story. Please keep that in mind that this fic is not going to follow the plot of the game exactly. Some events will live up and others won't.

Also this js my fic and my writing, if you don’t like how the characters are written or the plot, feel free to exit.

And in this fic, it is a love triangle and reader is not MC from the game. in this fic, reader is a famous idol, as well as Sylus (Sylus is still the leader of Onychinus but in this fic the leader is faceless and unknown and goes by an alias), Zayne however is still a world renowned and highly recognizable cardiac surgeon/ doctor.

As well as this fic will have a music element where I will state the song of the chapter/section. Feel free to listen if you want to. Lyrics will be in italics.

🎼song: 'I Wanna Be Yours' by Arctic Monkeys

🍒tags: mention of previous relationship (Sylus X Reader), F! Reader

Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoy!

🎀 synopsis: It has been your dream since you were a little girl that you would be a star, an idol, to let the whole world know who you were. But if the world knows who you are, they know everything about you from your work, to what you do personally and your relationships including past and present. The past of being with another famous solo artist Sylus, who is now your ex with the public knowing of the messy relationship and breakup from it. The present of being with a world-renowned cardiac surgeon Zayne. The limelight seems to shine too bright sometimes, and along with it following you, so does your past. Will it catch up to the present?

"Y/N! Please face this way! Smile!"

"Y/N! Do you have a moment for a quick interview?"

"Y/N, say hello to all your fans watching at home!”

Between all the yelling and bright lights flashing in your face, all you could do was smile.

Smile and pose, hands placed on your hips, turning slightly when you deaned it appropriate. Standing for a bit before walking down the carpet further and repeating the steps.

Smile, turn, walk, repeat.

That was until a large camera was pushed in front of you, a woman wearing a long floor length champagne colored gown with a slicked back bun approached with a microphone in her hand and a wide smile on her lips.

"Y/N! It is so lovely to see you tonight at the Golden Star Music Awards! How are you this evening?" The woman said, pointing the large microphone towards you.

"Hi! Good evening! I'm doing amazing, I’m so excited." You greeted to the woman, smiling brightly.

"You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, so beautiful as always." She complimented.

"Thank you, you look so beautiful as well." You complimented.

"What a sweetheart you are! I heard you were nominated for an award at tonight's show, do you think the odds are in your favor?"

"I have no idea, if I did win that would be so amazing but even it I didn't I applaud whoever does. Everyone deserves recognition on a night like this."

"Are you excited for any of the guest performances?"

"I am! I can't wait to see what is in store. I wish them all good luck, I know everyone will do amazing!"

"How sweet! And I see you came alone tonight, are you attending with friends or a plus one?"

"Actually my-"

Before you could finish your answer you felt a hand gently place itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to a figure slowly. Making you tense up and then look up to see who it was.

"You made it, I didn't even know you were already here." You said smiling, as soon as you saw those familiar and warm green eyes you felt yourself relax.

"I wrapped things up earlier than expected, I just decided to find you instead of waiting inside." A soft voice said, as you felt the hand move from the small of your back to your waist.

"Oh my! Is this your famous doctor boyfriend I've been hearing so much about? two make such a cute couple!" The woman complimented, chuckling as you smile and nodded.

"Yes, he's-“

"Seriously, I think you two are perfect for one another. Obviously better than the last one right?" The woman said, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she chuckled and shoved the microphone closer to you.

"I-I um, I don’t-" You stutter to say, your hand gripping tightly at the skirt of your dress.

"I heard he's also attending tonight's show, do you think he'll…"

'It's one of those gossip reporters wanting to get more details in my life to sell an article or something.' You thought to yourself as you drowned out the rest of her conversation, you could feel you face growing hot and your hands becoming clammy with embarrassment.

"We should be heading inside and finding our seats soon, the show will be starting soon." You heard his voice respond rather strictly and coldly, making you look to him.

"I understand totally, I just wanted to ask since so many people have been curious.it was nice to meet you-"

"Let’s go before the show starts without us, it was nice meeting you as well." He said, taking your free hand in his own and walking off with you.

"Bye Y/N! Enjoy the show, hope to catch you after-" The woman said, but you had already drowned her out as your attention was faced to his broad back as he guided you down the carpet and to the entrance of the venue.

"Are you all right?" He questioned, his voice ringing with concern and worry as he watered your features.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." You managed to stutter out, not wanting to cause commotion with so many people around still.

"Some people just don't know how to respect others, regardless of status or attention. She shouldn't have asked such inappropriate questions." He stated, as you nodded in agreement and exhaling a long breath.

"Look at me." You heard him say softly, making you look up to meet his warm green eyes.

"If you don't want to stay longer or don't feel comfortable, we can leave. You tell me."He said softy, as you shook you head.

"I think I’m okay, thank you." You said, as he eyed you a bit.

"Even if you feel fine now, you tell me if anything changes. All right?" He said, and you nodded.

"I will. Thank you Zayne.”

You got inside the venue with no issues and were guided to your table by a staff member. Zayne had pulled out your chair, and you sat down as you thanked him. He sat down next to you as the staff around served water glasses to the both of you.

"Are you looking forward to the show?" He asked, as you sipped at your glass.

"I'm excited to see the performances, but I'm more nervous for the awards." You admitted.

"You were nominated for a few of the categories, no?" Zayne asked, as you nodded.

"Mhm, that's why I'm a bit nervous. I didn't really prepare before hand. It’s just a little nerve wrecking not knowing." You admitted, and he nodded understanding.

"But maybe I won't win, and that's okay too! I just hope if they do that they're more prepared than me." You chuckled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. As the show is about to start." A loud voice boomed through the venue and the other guests started bustling to their tables.

As the noise died down, and the lights on the stage shone brightly on the host you and Zayne made small banter.

"Welcome to this years Golden Star Music Award Show, I will your honest for the evening. Who is ready to win some awards and watch some amazing performances?!" The host announced, making the other guests cheer in response.

The show went on as typical from what you expect, guest artists performing their latest and most popular hits with dancers and over the top visuals, awards being handed out with heart filled speeches and tears, all with you and Zayne bantering and basking in each others presence without a care in the world.

"Our next performance is from an artist who we all love for his sultry sound and unforgettable voice. Appealing to the masses with his dark image so far that his latest album sold tens of thousands of copies within the first week, made it number one on the charts and is nominated for awards in multiple categories at tonight's show. Please give a warm and inviting welcome to Sylus!"

The audience cheered loudly as the spotlight shifted to the center of the stage, you could see Zayne shift from your side slightly and you turned to him and smiled before looking back to the stage.

The lights surrounding the venue darkened, as solem tempo music started playing. You recognized the song all too well, it was on the radio on repeat so much and you did like it.

You saw the figure on stage, a band behind him as the spotlight shone bright and cameras panning across and showing his face on large screens to the audience who weren’t close enough to the stage. You had to admit he did have a nice voice, you’ve heard his previous work in the past and you did like it.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You could see people slowly swaying in their seats, mouthing to the lyrics. You felt a soft brush against your hand as you looked to see Zayne interlacing his fingers with yours. It made you blush slightly at the small physical contact, and you quickly looked back to the performance.

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots babe

I just wanna be yours

A spotlight that was hung over the audience shown, carefully dancing across the guests until it slowed and rested its attention on you and your seat. You flinched slightly at the brightness, making you look away and resting your sight on one of the large screens. Maybe it was the camera angle on the stage but with how it was positioned, it was like he was staring straight at you.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

You looked back at Zayne and although he was looking disinterested you could see how white his knuckles in his free hand look, balled into a fist. You carefully ran your thumb over his knuckles in your hand, seeing his tightened fist relax and his stance less tense. He looked to you and you gave him a soft reassuring smile.

You both knew what was going on.

He was playing games.

The show went on like clockwork, awards and performances continued and you waited with bated breath for the next awards announced.

"Now for the award for 'Best New Rising Star, with several amazing nominees. The winner for last years award will be announcing the winner." The host said, as the audience clapped.

"Please welcome back Sylus to the stage!" The host exclaimed, as more cheering and clapping ensued.

You could see the familiar figure nod to the host, taking the microphone they held along with the award. Once done they turned to face the audience at the stage.

"It is my honor to be able to give this award to the nominee who most certainly deserves it. "The winner of this year’s Best New Rising Star Award is…" He started, you bit your lip with anticipation.

The silence was slowly killing you, you just wanted this done and over with. You could feel your grasp in Zayne"s hand tighten and you tried to not chew your lip off.

"Y/N L/N." He said slowly, as the audience started clapping and cheering.

You face froze in shock for a moment, as you looked to Zayne who stood up from his seat and guided you to stand. You smiled and hugged him tightly, feeling tears threatening to spill as he whispered in your embrace.

“Congratulations." He said, as you let go of him reluctantly.

You wanted him to come to the stage with you but you knew it wasn’t the best option for now, instead one of the guests would help you up to the steps as you made your way up before getting on the stage alone.

As on cue, one or the guests who was often seen accompanying winners onto the stage held their arm out for you to take and you did so. Hearing cheers and whistling as you smiled and waved to the crowd, the cameras panning and following you as you made your way to the steps of the stage.

You thanked the kind guest before adjusting your dress and walking across the stage, hugging the host before they walked off to the far side of the stage.

Leaving you alone with all eyes on you, with Sylus.

"When I met Y/N, it was as if it was never meant to happen. Just a coincidental meeting that sooner became the start of a beautiful connection, as if faith knew it was destiny for us to meet. Only for years later I would be the one on this stage presenting her this award for the world to see." He started the speech, the crowd cheering and clapping as you did as well.

"From the first moment we met I knew I was in the presence the most talented person I would get the pleasure to know. When it comes to music, she has dominated the industry with hit pieces without failure. When it comes to personality she has always demonstrated kindness from the bottom of her heart. And when it comes to determination and work ethic, her work is never underestimated or undermined."

"Even with all these awards, music, recognition and status of being an artist, what counts is the person who put their heart into what they value. She succeeds it by not changing or letting herself be pressured into doing so. She has been able to accomplish so much while not letting the pressure change her into something she isn’t. Even if the times has changed along with many others things, she is still the same girl I met all those years ago."

"She is someone I respected highly, whom I hold so much pride and admiration to. Who I’m proud to say I know, proud to say I’ve looked up to and proud to say I love with my chest and won’t ever stop loving."

You felt your chest tighten, your hands become clammy as the crowd only got louder at the statement.

"I’m proud to present this award to her as she deserves it more than anyone in this world, ladies and gentlemen the winner of the Best Rising Star Award, Y/N." Sylus finished, turning to you as the crowd continued to cheer and all you could do was stand in shock.

Standing there as if caught in the act, surprise and fear etched into your face as everyone was looking at you. You could see the edge of a smirk resting on his lips from your peripheral vision, as you slowly got over the anger and nerves. Approaching him with your hands out, a tight smile on your face as you accepted the trophy from him.

His hand lingered as you grasped the award, before letting it go slowly and you approached the microphone on the stand.

"I want to thank everyone here tonight for the opportunity of receiving this award, this is such an honor to be nominated and win this so thank you again." You started, as the crowd cheered and you could see him sits, smirking from your side.

"Thank you to everyone who has even given me the chance to make this dream come true. From my team to my family, writers, producers, friends, colleagues, and the people closest to me that I love and hold dear to me thank you for all the support and love you have shown me. I hope to keep amazing everyone with all my work and hope you can see me continue to grow not only as an artist but as a person too. Thank you again, I love you all." You finished, waving as you held the award up again before quickly rushing to the stairs you came from.

You could hear footsteps follow you and already knowing who it was, holding onto the railing to make sure you didn’t fall. You looked to see Zayne at the bottom of the staircase waiting for you and you smiled in relief.

"Here, let me-"

"I’ve got it, thank you." You responded quickly, holding onto the railing and going down a few steps before reaching out to the outstretched hand before you.

Taking Zayne's hand once in reach and having him help you down to the ground level, clutching the award. Once you were stable, you looked at him and with the look that he gave you in return you could tell he wasn’t happy but more concerned than anything.

"I wanna go home."

💌 author's note:

Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, if you liked it please let me know! I hope to be posting soon!

[savannahsdeath]

okok but like reader being tommy and maria's daughter, Joels niece, Ellie's gf, you cant tell me that wouldn't just make her the town princess <33

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! but i think its minors safe this time!!; reader crying

writers note: its short and just two of my thoughts but still decided to post it🤗 ALWAYS when i make sum scenarios in my head i imagine im tommys and marias daughter cus !! its like so abziabshh being joels niece too ??? omg.

as tommy's and maria's daughter, the risk of you getting hurt was always lower than other residents'. being a favored princess, only doing little jobs somewhere in the town, you were living a dream of most girls your age. you didn't have to patrol, to risk your life, to be used to hold a gun like it's nothing. and you could shoot - joel teached you, just in case. but you pointed your weapon at a living target only a few times. your life was just.. calm.

there's no reason to complain, right?

right??

you hated it. you wanted nothing more than to go outside and be a hero, find supplies and kill those monsters.

you felt useless, sitting in jackson and doing only paperwork or gardening. you didn't care it was important too. you wanted to be a soldier with a holster swinging down your hip, maybe a switchblade with a cool design in your pocket. after a long day in work you'd meet up with your friends, share your memories and tips. maybe even trade some cards you found while scavenging.

you spent so much time complaining and begging your parents for a chance to go outside and face the dangers of the world. but you were always met with the same answer - that you were too precious to risk, too valuable to put in danger.

you never understood why they didn't see you the same way they saw ellie. you felt that you were capable of just as much as she was, if not more. but it was always her who got the spotlight, while you were left to your own devices, growing bitter and resentful.

one day, not just a typical day but your birthday, you found your family - tommy, maria, joel and ellie - waiting for you in the living room. you hated the awkward 'my little girl is becoming a lady!' things, but you put on the best fake smile you could. it turned to a real smile pretty fast, just as you heard about your gift.

"we'll allow you to patrol." maria smiled, before quickly shaking her head. "only with ellie, though!"

at first you stood in silence. you felt like both tommy and joel wanted you to go outside for a long time before. being locked up in a safety zone wasn't doing any good for you. if something was going to happen to jackson, you'll be left clueless in the cruel, unknown world. but how did they convince your protective mother, maria?

ellie smirked at your reaction and leaned against a wall. "you have to listen to me, too."

you knew she'll act all cocky and demanding, but it didn't ruin your happiness. in fact, you were glad to be paired with her.

and so you became one of the tough, badass survivors you wanted to. but you were still an innocent princess in their eyes.

so they couldn't stand seeing you hurt.

as soon as maria caught you sobbing onto your pillow the other day, everyone was there in a second. you were sitting in your bed, in your mother's arms. ellie placed herself next to you, caressing your hand and rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh. joel was pacing around the room, trying to not point his gun at anyone who made you feel this way, while tommy wether kneeled in front of you or joined your uncle in lame attempt to calm themselves down.

"what the fuck happened?" your dad leaned against a nearby wall.

ellie rolled her eyes, thinking his aggressiveness is useless. "it's about jane."

jane was a girl your age, freshly welcomed to jackson. she didn't know much about it so she was the first one to judge. and well... let's say she didn't like how popular you are.

joel frowned and repeated quiet; "jane?" as if to make sure he heard it correctly.

you sniffled and wiped your tears on your sleeve, feeling the overwhelming attention of everyone in the room.

"well, jane's got some real issues if you ask me." joel growled, his voice quiet and dangerous.

"indeed." tommy nodded, his mind already brewing up a plan. "we should send her packing before things escalate."

"no, we can't do that." maria frowned, thinking hard of a solution to the problem. "don't forget she's here because she saved ellie."

to that, your girlfriend quickly let you go and stood up. "saved me?!" she threw her hands in the air in frustration. "she killed one infected that was after me, i'd handle it myself just as easily!"

your mom held her hands out in an attempt to calm ellie, but the girl was too angry and frustrated to see a reason to.

"hey, hey!" maria chided her. "it's not worth arguing. let's just settle this and move on."

ellie gritted her teeth as she took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. "fine." she said through clenched teeth. "but she better not pull anything again, or i swear i'm gonna-"

"ellie!" tommy shouted, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"no, ellie's right." joel said in a stern, serious tone. "jane's no hero and we can't let her sabotage our community. she won't stop after a pathetic little warning."

your parents froze for a moment, the words finally hitting them.

"joel," maria finally started, her tone serious and concerned. "we can't just kick someone out like that. that's not how we handle things here."

"well, how do we handle them then?" joel shot back. "because letting someone like jane stay is gonna be a threat to our safety."

after a short moment of silence, maria finally spoke up again. "i get where you're coming from," she nodded and repeated; "but this is not the way we do things."

your uncle just huffed in frustration, his arms crossed. "fine." he murmured quietly. "have it your way."

ellie, on the other hand, was quietly seething. she wanted to go up to jane and knock some sense into her head, but she bit her tongue and kept quiet.

as maria left the room, ellie's rage came spilling out. "she's trouble!" she hissed, pacing back and forth. "she just needs someone to put her in her place. can i-"

"no." your dad cut you off, his voice firm. "maria said no. we're not doing this."

ellie bit her lip in frustration as she looked back and forth between him and you, torn between wanting to listen and wanting to see jane struggle, like you do now. eventually, she took your mom's place in comforing you.

with joel out of the picture, you and ellie shared a deep glance. the shared anger and frustration in your eyes was something only you two understood. it felt like you communicated telepathically. without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around you. this sort of closeness was something you rarely shared in front of others, but in this moment it just felt right. you two were bonded by the same negative feelings, and in that moment you were both on the same wavelength.

maria came back to see you, face buried in ellie's chest, as she made some shushing noises into your ear. she shared a concerned look with tommy and joel, which agreed to leave you both alone for now. your mom felt satisfied by the fact ellie decided to let jane be.

just a few days later you were able to come out without worrying about bumping into her, because even when you did, she'd apologize and quickly walk away. you never asked anyone what happened, no one told you anything too. jane wasn't the type of a person to get offended by words, so whatever happened, it must really affect her..

[vaguely-concerned]

Happy Grace/Pan Vibes For The Soul

"How can I, with you in the way?"/"(Laughs) The floor is yours!"

First of all I'm honestly just so charmed by how genuinely delighted Pan seems to be at watching Grace finding her voice and learning to enjoy using her power, I think that's where I started to take a shine to him. (also seems quite central to his character/romance in general because it's a thing that recurs through their relationship -- he tells her "I'm enjoying it if you're enjoying it" straight out at one point and that's definitely always there in the subtext). He buys a music studio for her just in case she ever wants to return to making music again even when she's not the muse anymore just because he loves her singing and has seen it make her happy before, how is that not the sweetest goddamn thing in the world??? Pan and Oracle in shared first place as stans for Grace musically

For real though, 'I Can Teach You' is sooo... even when you don't join forces with him Pan teaches Grace so many things in that song, it's a thematic tutorial as well as a gameplay one in many ways. For me I think the most impactful subtexts are 'This is a tricky situation, change is here and it's difficult, but you have more control and agency here than you think' ("You're in control!" "It's your song!"), and this sense that, y'know... there can be joy and playfulness and discovery in setting out into the unknown, not just fear and uncertainty.

dude... I wanna be in cahoots with & sing playful duets with you for the rest of my life bro (amorous intent)

Pros: Hell yeah look at her go! 🥰

Cons: Uh-oh look at her go! 😬

I love that Grace can bring Pan's motif into 'Challenging A Queen' and be called the fuck out by Persephone btw. why u keepin' your guard up girl uwu

'you gave up the only thing worth having -- for your little mortal friend' he says, giving up everything for his little once-again-mortal friend literally the next day fhsdkjfhsad who are you fooling buddy? not even yourself at this point surely??? (dialogue for if you save Freddie by giving up the eidolon)

my observations on the grace/pan dynamic across the different personality traits (yes I've done a run of each romancing him I am normal about it):

Clever!Grace: Pan seems to set out to be a trickster mentor of sorts, and Clever!Grace flips the uno reverse card on him and goes ‘Not if I trickster mentor you first bitch be honest about your feelings or perish challenge engage’. Probably the most birds of a feather combination (and indeed it’s the Blue version of the soundtrack that shows off his romance — also his tie and glasses are on the cover for that one :) ). 

Charming!Grace: Performative puppy dog eyes-off whenever either of them wants to get their way. 🥺4🥺. Pan is provably a soft touch from the Charming option to find Persephone before Challenging A Queen so I feel he probably tends to buckle faster but it’s a close thing. Local trickster god completely disarmed by someone being nice to him.

Kickass!Grace: “Be real with me or Imma kick your ass”/”Promise? ;)”/"...>:)"

I am always thinking about the way he steps up in The Trial when romanced (and the way it's the only one where Athena is genuinely shocked and appalled fhskadj). there is something about him that's like... he keeps protesting against 'innocent' and he's probably right haha, but there is certainly an almost fundamental lack of any active malice there that he doesn't fully admit to himself or to grace until this moment. he is doing this for grace, but it is also a confession about something really deep in himself that seems to be very vulnerable for him in its sincerity -- that he really doesn't mean to or more importantly want to cause harm (I don't wanna dance/with blood on my hands). admitting to his own basically good heart finally seems to be the bigger, scarier thing for him, more than facing the prospect of dying. he's experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known and I for one am so proud of him

"I'm just here for the dance"

the way he sings that just to her and completely changes the meaning of it from what he said with it before, from using it to keep her out to inviting her in...

also can you imagine how badly the kill bill sirens must be going off in Grace's head in all variations of this scene no matter who steps up, considering what happened to Freddie just days before....... oof!

*incensed whisper* are you fucking kidding me with this what am I supposed to do with myself here

love these too

I really like the visual repeats of crossing the pond to the tree and back as a metaphor for them getting closer (or rather, him letting her closer, it is very much His Space). he retreats back there towards the end of 'Share This Dance', and that's the point where Grace puts her foot down and essentially says 'no. you come meet me honestly in the middle this time or this isn't happening'. and in 'The Trial' he does and then some!

I meant what I sang. I'm not a good man. If Athena had taken me up on my offer, the Idols would have been better off But I can try to be better. You make me want to try.

fun fact: if you break up with him after The Trial (YEAH you can still break off the romances at that point! it's wild honestly fsjadk), Grace tells him he should try to be better ‘for himself’ not for her... and he calls that (i.e. himself) ‘not much of an incentive’. My guy don’t make me break out the ‘Have you tried therapy’ prompt again. He takes it very calmly and gracefully under the circumstances but he's also like. quietly resigned and subdued. I tried it once for Science and never will again but there you go I bring my knowledge to this altar of sadness lol

you see the thing is I would forgive him for just about anything too I understand why so many of the characters in-game can't stay mad at him for any length of time

he starts the game by asking her to take his hand and he ends it on asking her to take his hand (and she does)...

:') let's share this dance

[myonmukyuu]

stream stellar stream

🎀🎙 thoughts incoming

Watching the live version of Stellar Stream reminded me - man, I really love this song.

Although I still haven't been able to watch the movie (JP exclusive ....) I've been getting little blips of context here and there and there's this repeated emphasis on Ayumu's growth and I really like it!!

Ayumu starts out the series as someone who is very uncertain and prefers staying in her comfort-zone. Her anxious tendencies kept her firmly glued to Yu's side and as she grows we get to see her gradually bloom into someone more confident. Stellar Stream is a song about Ayumu running face first into the unknown and embracing it. Something that the Ayumu at the very beginning wouldn't even dream of. As well as a demonstration of what Ayumu has become, I think Stellar Stream is also a perfect sendoff for her. If the writers are cooking up some graduation arcs, Ayumu is probably in the perfect state to receive it ahahah.

Anyways, this isn't actually an Ayumu deep-dive word dump, it's a SetsuPomu word dump oopsies HAHAHAHA. I just wanted to set some context...

Stellar Stream Ayumu is very cool. There's the pink and prettiness we'd usually associate with Ayumu with this touch of cool that emphasizes her growing confidence and ambition. The black half-cape and finger-less gloves almost come off as 'heroic' (similar to SGbNamida).

It made me think about how Setsuna would think Ayumu is probably the coolest person alive. I can imagine her radiating with admiration from the backstage.

It reminds me of this magazine page about the 2L solo songs. It's hard for me to find the page but I do promise it exists. It featured some art of Ayumu in her Say Goodbye Namida costume and had a little comment from Setsuna. Setsuna compares her to a "hero" or heroine, I don't really remember the wording, only the sentiment. And it's not the only time Setsuna compares Ayumu to a "hero" . There's also this little short where Setsuna compares Ayumu to an "unassuming hero who slips from the darkness to defeat the villain". Setsuna has also compared Ayumu to, on multiple occassions, the heroine of a dating sim. This isn't really related but I think it says a lot about Setsuna.

Anyways, it makes me think... At some point Setsuna became captivated by Ayumu and started perceiving her as someone who is cool and heroic. Which is kind of at odds with Ayumu's usual perception of being cute, pretty and pink? When Ayumu had first met Setsuna, it was watching her perform CHASE for the first time. Ayumu had her world expanded... But when did Setsuna really "meet" Ayumu? If we go by the anime timeline, Setsuna didn't really get many opportunities to meet Ayumu until the climax of season 1. Ayumu largely kept to herself/Yu for most of the season too. My interpretation is that Setsuna was quietly watching from the sidelines before trying to make friends with her as the season progresses. My yuri-goggled interpretation is that Setsuna had a crush on a pretty girl and couldn't work up the courage to get closer until the end of the season.

So why does Setsuna feel this way? What makes Ayumu "cool"?

SetsuPomu is a funny ship to me... It's very easy to explain why Ayumu might have romantic feelings for Setsuna. (ie. Setsuna being so critical to her character growth helps) but it is a lot harder to definitively claim that Ayumu's feeling are romantic since she has other "targets". (But we're here in the LL shipping community so does this even matter???) I find it funny because with Setsuna it's probably the other way around. It's very easy to claim that she has a crush on Ayumu. Like pathetically easy. (Girl, you wrote a self-insert fanfic where you were Ayumu's childhood friend and a knight with her as the princess I think she really has it down bad.) but the "why" is a little more vague. Emphasis on "a little" since Season 2 and Nijiyon really nail the Setsuna-side of things. But regardless I'd like to go into deeper detail because that's what I do as the CEO of SetsuPomu.

As a disclaimer... though honestly this disclaimer should've been at the start. This is 60% headcanon conjecture! If I kept firmly planted to the concept of "canon" I wouldn't be shipping SetsuPomu.

I think Setsuna's admiration began from something really simple.

Ayumu listened to her.

Setsuna has a lot of anxiety related to being "too much" when it comes to her passions. She believes in "shouting her love" but is also very afraid of rejection and confrontation. When the idol club disbanded, I think this would've been the height of that anxiety.

I think Ayumu's very simple act of listening to her and being receptive to her interests really kick-started their friendship. It's so easy to find bits and pieces of this.

Some games over here.... some novels over there... and Ayumu isn't just politely going along, she has a genuine growing interest and I think it makes Setsuna feel very safe to be passionately herself around Ayumu. It's a two-way street too with how Ayumu has this tendency to be hesitant to try new things until someone takes her hands and guides her a little of the way. Then, before anyone knows it, Ayumu can fall into a similar kind of obsession as Setsuna and that really fires Setsuna up!

Setsuna and Ayumu have this friendship where they both feed into each others' passions. With Setsuna's lonesome nature before becoming a part of Nijigasaki, this is really new for her so yeah. An innocent crush on Ayumu isn't hard to imagine.

Okay so it starts with admiration but when does it become "awe" of Ayumu's "coolness"?

Setsuna sees in Ayumu what she thinks she herself doesn't have. And ironically, ones of those things is "courage". Like I mentioned before, Setsuna is very afraid of confrontation and conflict. She disbanded the idol club indirectly as student council president. She lives a double life in an effort to please everyone and that whole conflict she had with Shioriko in SIFAS was broadly caused by her being unable to keep up that double life.

Courage is something that Ayumu has. Even if Ayumu herself isn't fully convinced. In general Ayumu only needs a little push to get going, but once she does get going she actually is quite assertive and brave. Even in her conflict with Yu in season 1, Ayumu herself decides to confront Yu. (Setsuna needs to be chased and cornered to be confronted).

Setsuna is also has a hard time dealing with failure. When things fall through she tends to do rash things like disband the club or idk, cancel the school idol festival maybe? I view Setsuna as a little racehorse with blinders on. As she runs at full speed, things at the wayside tend to blur and if she trips its catastrophic.

But Ayumu takes it slow.

Unlike Setsuna, Ayumu isn't afraid of mistakes. Even at the very beginning with Yume e no Ippo, she might trip and stumble but she will always move forward one step at a time.

I think Setsuna holds deep admiration of this. Ayumu is cool because she doesn't let her doubts hold her back like Setsuna does. (<- Setsuna's perspective).

Ayumu, to Setsuna, is really cool.

And when Ayumu's courage takes her to doing things like... I don't know, flying internationally to spread school idol activities because a fan emailed her, Setsuna thinks that's crazy cool and something a hero would do!!!

While Setsuna very much wants to be the hero, she admires Ayumu for that very thing

after all, Ayumu saved her too.

Anyways, Stream Stellar Stream