#possibly this already exists in the world but: two cakes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eand47 · 2 months ago

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Chapter VI | Cakes and Alleyways

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: major age gap!, explicit language, use of nicotine/cigarettes, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, !mentions of being SPIKED!, mentions of (sexual) harassment, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 19,7K

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NOTE: First I’m sorry that the chapter took so long but at least it is quite long. Second: PLEASE TAKE GOOD LOOK AT THE WARNINGS AS I DON’T WANT TO TRIGGER SOMETHING TRAUMATIC IN ANY OF YOU!!!! Also I can't believe it has been one month since I started the fic, thank you all for reading and supporting it ♡ I hope that you guys enjoy it ♡

Snow was covering every roof and street in the Grand Line city. December came and so did the snow. Christmas lights were already lighting up the streets. The weather was getting colder with every passing day. I caught myself counting the days in the past two weeks. To be exact twelve days. Twelve days since I last saw Ace and I was not sure if I wanted to see him again. Five days ago, I couldn’t take the silence anymore and texted him, asking if I did something wrong or offended him somehow. Six days later still no response. Not even marked as read. I was trying to distract myself in every possible way, but he was still finding his way to my mind at least once a day. I felt so confused – confused, offended and hurt. Why? Why being all friendly and nice with me only to turn ice-cold and pretend like I didn’t exist the next day? I didn’t want to think about Ace, but I couldn’t. Even thought I was busy with shooting the sort-cut projects and editing them after, still even after all that stress the thing that bothered me the most was his absence. It was simply not fair. I did not deserve this attitude from him.

They released the music video a week ago. It already had one hundred sixty thousand views and growing in the span of a week, which for a first video was quite successful. All the guys found a way to contact me and thanked me for the video, all except Ace. And that added to the pain I was feeling. I would never do such thing to a friend. But he never saw me as one. At this point I was wondering what he saw me as?

I tried to shake away the thoughts and get ready to go out for a lunch with Shanks. I haven’t seen him in almost two months. We only talked on the phone a few times. On top of it I have barely spoken with my dad, and I felt so bad for it but also, I was starting to miss him a lot. I couldn’t wait for the Christmas break as I needed it both physically and mentally. I received a text from Shanks that he was waiting for me downstairs, so I put on my jacket and boots and ran outside. He had parked his red 4x4 jeep in front of my apartment building, waiting for me inside. I opened the door, and he greeted me with a big smile.

“How is my Foxy doing?” He ruffled my hair before turning on the car.

“Shanks.” I giggled as I tried to fix my hair. “I’m good, how is my favourite uncle doing?”

“Oh, what do you want your sneaky fox?” His eyes quickly glanced at me as we stopped at a red light.

“Nothing. Why would I be wanting anything from you?” I looked surprised at him.

“You call me your ‘favourite uncle’ only when you want something.” He snorted.

“Not this time. I just missed you.” I gave him half shrug. Shanks chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. After twenty minutes drive we arrived at the restaurant where Shanks had made reservation for us to have a lunch. The place was quite new. It was a top floor restaurant, decorated with flowers all around but the best part was the celling, which was entire made of glass. I have never been here before but the moment they seated us down and I looked at the menu I already fell in love with the place. The waiter came and took our order. We thanked him and handed back the menus.

“How is school going Foxy?” Shanks asked me while pouring some water in my glass.

“University, Shanks.” I corrected him. “It’s going pretty well. I must show you the movie I directed and wrote script for. I think I did pretty well.” I tossed my hair on the side a bit, bragging about my little accomplishment.

“I’m sure it will be the best one Foxy.” He smiled proudly at me. “A little bird told me that you also directed a music video.” Shanks raised his eyebrow knowingly, propping his elbows on the table and crossing his fingers under his chin. I hummed in response and nodded my head slightly. “Just a ‘mhm’?”

“What else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, but that was a big deal. And the video was pretty good, Luffy showed it to me.” His eyes were studying my face before he continued. “I also heard that Ace asked you to film it. Wanna say something about that?” His tone was light, but his gaze was stern.

“We met accidently while I was working on my film and he read the script, liked it, saw potential in me and asked me if I could do it.” I explained quick trying to brush off the topic.

“Of course he saw the potential, Ace is not stupid. But still don’t let him get in your head.” Shanks gave me another stern look.

“Shanks what is your problem with Ace?” I whined as I was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. After all I’m not twelve and I have enough brains to know what would be good or bad for me.

“I don’t have problem with Ace, as long as there is nothing between you two.” Now his voice was also stern. “Ace is a good guy. I know the kid for a long time. He used to be problematic tho, but this is not important now. What is important for you, is to understand that guys like Ace hit and dip. What you want to be one of the many?” He snorted. “I don’t think so Foxy, so before you get your delusions broken use this brain of yours and u-“ His speech was interrupted by the waiter who came and served the food we ordered. I thanked him with a smile before I turn my attention back to Shanks as I gave him annoyed glance.

“Don’t you dare giving me that look.” He pointed his finger towards me. “Again, he is a good guy, but he is also very troublesome. So, case close.” His tone was low but warning.

“No, case open Shanks.” I protested. “I’m old enough to take my own decisions with who I go out and what I do with them. If I get my ‘delusions’ broken.” I mocked him. “Then it’s on me. Plus, Ace and I are just... just... “ I couldn’t find the right word to describe what we were exactly. “We are just acquainted.” I murmured the last part. “Plus, he is a very good person Shanks, and I haven’t seen him being problematic. So, I don’t know if we are talking about the same guy.” I didn’t know why I was defending Ace when he didn’t deserve it at all. I looked down on my plate and took a bite of my food.

“Oh, so you know him better, is that so?” Shanks tone became mocking as he got pissed. “Did you know that when Ace was sixteen, he beaten a guy up so bad it almost left him disabled? And he has been sued to pay the guy indemnification for ten years in the row. And do you know how Ace was being able to pay for it? Until two years ago he was known for selling drugs and beating up people if you pay him, so even after that accident he still didn’t learn his lesson. Now he started to earn some money with music, but we will see how long this will continue.” He raised his chin and eyebrows up waiting for my response. I didn’t know how to response to this. I just lowered my gaze and slouched on my seat. “Exactly, I thought so too.” Shanks snorted at me.

“You are no better than him you know.” I couldn’t stop the words escaping my mouth. Shanks chuckled, placing his hands on the table.

“Go on, Foxy. Elaborate.” He persisted.

“You...” I took a deep breath for courage before I continue. “You used to work for Gol D Roger, you sold drugs for the biggest narco-boss ever known and you are here playing Mr. Morals for a guy who did what he had to do, as life wasn’t very fair for him to begin with.” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, my eyes didn’t dare to look at him. I have never talked back to Shanks. I have had this big respect towards him since I could remember, and I have never crossed my boundaries with him. I was waiting for him to start yelling or get even more angry with me but instead he laughed out loud like a maniac. Everyone in the restaurant gave us a look. I slouched even more in my chair from embarrassment. Shanks cleared his throat still laughing.

“Oh, Foxy...” He clicked with him tongue while shaking his head, sill laughing a bit. “I was planning to save you this, but you are asking for it, now with this bratty behaviour.” Shanks looked me straight in the eyes before he continued. The look on his face was scaring me. “You know how I happen to know a lot of people and by chance I knew both of Ace’s parents. And guess what, fun fact for your ‘acquaintance’” A smug smirk appeared on his face. “Wanna know his real name before he changed it a few years ago? For which, I helped by the way.” He snorted, his gaze mocking as he was waiting for me to say something.

“Gol D Ace.” My eyes widen when I heard the name. I shook my head in disbelieve. “No, don’t shake your head like that. You heard me. He is Gol D Roger biological and only son.” I was shocked by this information. It couldn’t be, it was known that Gol D Roger never had a family. “What did your opinion about Ace change now?” Shanks continued to mock me. I bit on my lip and frowned with my brows before I looked at Shanks.

“No, Shanks. It didn’t. Ace is still Ace, and I would never judge someone based on who their parents are.” I swallowed hard. “After all my mother is a junkie, I guess you are the one who needs reminder.” I leaned on the back of the chair, my arms crossed as I was waiting for his response now. Shanks looked away embarrassed and cursed under his breath.

“The difference is that you don’t go after her steps, while Ace did like his father. And even thought Roger wasn’t as bad as he was portraited by the media, he still did bad stuffs, and so did Ace.” He tried to explain this time calmer. “Again – Ace is a good kid, but he swings the wrong way easily, and he is not good enough for you. Have your friendship or whatever with him...” Shanks sighed out loudly, waving his hand dismissively as he took a sip of his water. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Foxy.” He murmured. Silence took over the table. The chatter of plates and chitchats of people around us was the only thing that could be heard. I was lost in my thoughts. What I have heard right now wouldn’t change my opinion about Ace no matter what. My opinion about him was entirely based on how he treated me. The worst part of all was that the more I was learning about Ace the more I was understanding when it came to his behaviour.

“Please, eat.” Shanks broke the silence. My appetite was long gone but I didn’t want to argue with him again, so I took a bite of my food.

“Can I know, why you chose this place? You also said you have something to tell me. I doubt you wanted to come her only to tell me all this about Ace, so what is it?” I was keeping my eyes on the plate still affected by our argument. Shanks rubbed his temples with his fingers and sighed deeply.

“Well, I have some life changing news.” I slowly raised my head to look at him when he said that. I patiently waited for him to tell me what was going on. A little smile appeared on his lips before he took a deep breath in. I waived my hand at him to spill the bean. “I’m going to be a dad.” Shanks said with a grin on his face. I covered my mouth with my hands as my jaw almost hit the floor. I was shocked to my core. Shanks nodded his head slowly, letting me take my time to process what he just told me.

“Are you for real? This better not be one of your sick jokes.” I warned him as tears of happiness started to build in my eyes.

“I’m not kiddin’, Foxy. I’m going to be a father.” He chuckled, joy and pride glistering in his eyes. I squeaked, jumping from my seat to hug Shanks. Tears of happiness were falling from my eyes as he embraced me in his hug. We shared a laugh of joy as we sat back. I couldn’t find the words to describe how happy and confused I was feeling right now.

“H-how? Wh-when?” Was all I could ask him. I grabbed the napkin on the table whipping away the tears as I tried to safe my now a bit smudged mascara. Shanks laughed again.

“Foxy I’m pretty sure you know how babies are made.” He mocked me jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his comment.

“Yes, Shanks, I’m aware. But when? And most importantly, with who?” The big grin couldn’t leave my face. I was so happy to hear this, but also curious. Shanks has never had official girlfriend or anything close to it, so my best and only guess was that it must be a one-night stand.

“Well, it’s pretty early, she is six weeks pregnant. Her name is Natasha and yeah...” He bit on his cheek. I could see that he was feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Hm, was it a ‘hit and dip’ case?” I took a bite of my food, trying to withhold the smug smile that I wanted to place on my face. The whole situation was a bit funny, knowing how Shanks was embarrassed to admit that he got some girl knocked up. He just shot me a glance, warning me not to mess with him.

“It wasn’t planned this is something I can confirm, but I was you know... seeing her from time to time.” He said a little uncomfortable.

“How old is she? Have I seen her by any chance?” I continued with the question enjoying how uncomfortable this whole situation was making him feel.

“Twenty-seven. And no, you haven’t seen her anywhere.” My jaw hit the floor again after hearing the girl’s age.

“Twenty-seven? Shanks...” I stopped myself when I saw how his face scrunched as I repeated her age. Part of me wanted to scold him due the fact that they had twenty years difference, but then again who was I to judge people. “Um, what are your plans now? Like are you going to co-parent once the baby is born or you going to try being together, or...?” I asked. The situation wasn’t fun anymore, it was a little concerning. Shanks exhaled deeply, pulling his red hair a little bit.

“We decided to not rush with any decisions of this sort for now. Plus, I want her to be calm and not worry about anything in the next nine months as it will be more hard for her than me.” He was right, her life would change drastically even before the baby was born.

“How did her parents react? Also, how is she? Is she excited or not?”

“She is very excited. When she told me the news, she even warned me that she won’t do an abortion or anything like this in case I didn’t want to step up.” I nodded understandingly at what Shanks told me. “Well, her parents... let’s say they were happy until they found out our age difference.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Were you surprised? Imagine I come and tell you ‘Oh, Shanks I got knocked up by a man who is almost your age’. I doubt you will be thrilled.” I snorted.

“Foxy, if you come at this age to me and tell me such thing, even if the guy is your age, your dad and I will crush every part of this guy’s body.” He was joking but I knew if this did happen, they would do this. I wanted to make more jokes to annoy him but decided to keep them for myself.

“So, I will finally have a little cousin. I have always wanted to have one and spoil her with presents.” I propped my chin on my crossed fingers as I stared to daydream about all the fun I was going to have with the baby.

“Hold up, Foxy. Who said it is going to be a girl?” Shanks chuckled and raised his eyebrow.

“You know what they say Shanks, don’t you? About men who used to ‘hit and dip’ a lot.” I smirked.

“What they say, Foxy? Enlighten me.” He rubbed his chin waiting for my response as I stared to giggle.

“A man who broke a lot of hearts, is a man who will be blessed with daughter to pay for his sins.” I couldn’t stop giggling as he rolled his eyes at me.

“Bullshit. This isn’t true, look at your dad – not a single broken heart left behind him, yet your sassy ass emerged from hell.” Shanks was fast with his comeback.

“Hey, don’t talk about dad like this. He is charming... in his own unique way.” I quickly defended my father.

“Foxy, the fact that you had to define his ‘charm’ as ‘unique’ is enough to tell us everything.” His whole body was shaking from laughter.

“Does he know?”

“Of course, he does.” Shanks huffed with a smile. “He also thought that I was pranking him.” We both laughed again.

We continued with the lunch and small talks. I was really happy for Shanks. He would be an amazing father, and he had experience with raising a child. His future baby was in good hands. After all, if it wasn’t for Shanks, my dad would have struggled to raise me all by himself.

When we finished with our lunch Shanks dropped me off back home. Before I left the car we stayed and talked a little bit more.

“You need some money or something?” He asked me seriously.

“No, I’m doing pretty good now. Especially after I filmed the music video. They paid me good you know.” I winked at him as I nudged his arm. “By the way, how do you know Luffy and why haven’t you ever mentioned him to me?” I just remembered to ask him this. Till this day none of them has told me how they met or became so close that Luffy saw him as a father figure.

“This is a story for next time.” He ruffled my hair. “Go home now kid. You have lectures tomorrow.” He sternly said to me. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“Fine.” I opened the door and got out of the car. “But one last thing.” I said before closing it. “When will I meet... Natasha was her name, right? When will I meet Natasha?” I bounced on my toes.

“Soon, I promise. Now go, Foxy and be careful with what you do.” He pointed his finger to me before I closed the door. I stuck my tongue at him and I turned around to go home. Shanks drove off after he saw me entering the building. When I got inside my apartment I started to jump and squeak around. I couldn’t wait to meet the baby and Natasha. After taking my jacket and boots off and I changed my clothes to something more comfortable, I sat on the couch and called my dad on Facetime. The moment I saw his face on my screen I screamed.

“DAD SHANKS IS GOING TO BE A FATHER.” Tears welled in my eyes again. My father laughed heartfully.

“I know, darling. Sorry for not telling you sooner, but he wanted to tell you himself.” A gentle smile was placed on his face. “I can see that you are quite excited about it.” He chuckled.

“Of course I am, are you kidding me? I have already thought of all the games I can play with the baby, and the toys I can buy for it, and uhh, I just can’t wait to hug the little bundle of joy.” I couldn’t stop babbling about it. It was not even formed as a human yet, but I already loved it. “And I told Shanks that it will be a girl, remember my word. I just sense it with my gut, this baby is going to be a girl.”

“Well at least they wouldn’t need to worry about find a babysitter as you have already volunteered.” He joked and I nodded enthusiastically. “How are you baby girl? Last time we spoke you were super stressed, everything alright now?” His tone sounded concerned.

“I’m fine dad. Now that the short-cuts are done and the music video was released, I’m just waiting for the Christmas break.”

“Oh yes, the video. I watched it yesterday again. You killed it. And it’s getting so popular.” He said excited.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that it was doing good.” I clicked with my tongue.

“Why you sound so unamused? This is a very good thing for your future as a director.” He lifted his eyebrow, immediately picking up that something wasn’t alright with me.

“Yes, I agree. But I want to be movie director not a music one.” I winked. It was true, my main goal was movies, not music videos, but it was still a good showreel for my portfolio after I graduate.

“Still, you must be happy and proud for your success, without you this video wasn’t going to be this good, I guarantee you this.” Dad insisted. Of course, he would think this after all it was something that I have created, and I was his daughter at the end of the day. “Did something happen with the boy? It’s the singer one, I remember correctly, right?” His eyebrows waggled teasing me. “He is quite charming.”

“We are just friends dad. Nothing more than friends.” I shrugged, skipping the part where I have to explain that we weren’t even friends at this point but just some acquaintances, who happened to know some quite personal traumas about each other.

“You sure about that, doll?” It was like someone splashed me with ice-cold water when I heard the nickname.

“Dad, please, I beg you from the bottom of my heart... never and I mean it never ever call me ‘doll’ again, please.” My whole face scrunched up.

“What do you mean?” He squeaked his eyes widen faking his offence.

“Just...” I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Please, any other nickname or pet name you want, just not ‘doll’.” I cringed, knowing how Ace referred to me as a ‘doll’, the last thing I wanted was for my father to do the same, even thought they used it with very different meanings. In my father’s mind when referring to me as ‘doll’ he was remembering the times when his little girl was in fact a little girl, going around bouncing on my tiptoes and my pigtails swinging from side to side while hugging my favourite baby doll pretending to be my own baby. Now with Ace, I wasn’t sure why he was calling me ‘doll’ all the time, but it wasn’t because of the same reason my father was.

“Okay, okey.” He shook his head defeated. “Now you mind sharing with your old man what is bothering you with this young fella?” I snorted at his poor attempted to imitated British accent.

“Nothing, dad. Really, as I told you last time, I am not good with getting hints and his hints were obvious that it is just a friendship, nothing more than that.” I gave him a half smile.

“Pff, what an idiot. It’s his loss, darling.”

“Nah, it’s okay, dad. Plus, I have more important stuff to focus on that him.” This was indeed true, but my mind was still drafting to Ace all the time. “You know, he is a fan of yours.” I smirked.

“Is he? Well, maybe he isn’t such a big idiot.” My dad chuckled and I giggled. The rest of the conversation was us catching up. Me telling him about the whole process of the short-cuts and how it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be but still stressful to film ten short movies in the span of ten days, but I was lucky enough to be in a very well organised group, so we all managed pretty good. I also shared with him how I got even more close with Nami and Usopp’s friend group and that my social circle and life here was growing. We also spoke about the upcoming holidays. Dad was planning to come here and stay over at Shanks’, and we would celebrate Christmas with him. Before we said goodbye, I told him how much I missed him, which made him go all emotional as we haven’t seen each other in almost six months, as his schedule was quite busy. He promised me that he would try his best to come a little earlier than planned so we could spend more time together, before we hung up.

The rest on the night I spent by myself doing the usual – watching movies, ordering some takeout and scrolling through my socials. When I refreshed my Instagram for a thousand time tonight, I saw the band’s profile has posted a story. I pressed on it to see it. They were announcing an upcoming performance for not this but next Saturday and that tickets were up to sell from tomorrow. A small smile appeared on my face. This was good, the guys deserved it. No matter where Ace and I stood as friends, his talent was something that no one could deny him, and the same went for the rest of the guys. They deserved the success that slowly but steady was coming in their way. I couldn’t stop myself and I opened their band account and clicked on the people they were following, which were only them four. All of them except Ace were following me. I went to his profile, and he had also posted a story. I hesitated if I should open it. He had almost five thousand people following him and I doubt he was the type to check who viewed his stories. I took a deep breath and pressed on it. There were two stories one where he had reshared the band’s account one, and the other one was a short video of him playing the guitar with a caption ‘testing some new tunes’. He had the orange beanie on top of his head but most of his face was hidden by his hair. I sighed closing the story. I hesitated again if I should follow him, but then the words ‘if he wanted to, he would’ crossed my mind. The fact that his bandmates and friends were following me, and I wasn’t even as close with them as I was with him, was enough to make me made up my mind and not follow him.

I just closed the app and laid on my bed. I was staring at the celling, thinking of what Shanks told me earlier. I knew Ace had a roughed past, but I wasn’t aware that he used to be violent. It was hard for me to imagined him being the person Shanks told me Ace used to be. But people change and Shanks said that Ace has been doing better in the past two years. The thing I was shocked by the most was that Ace was Gol D Roger’s son. He was known as the biggest narco-boss globally. The stories and rumours about his wealth and brutality were horrific. Shanks used to work for him when he was young. He even accidently slipped one time when he was drunk and told me the truth of how he and my dad became friends. My father also did work for Roger, and that was how they met and became like brothers. I have never mentioned to my father that I knew about this.

My dad’s past was something he has always hated to talk about and kept it privet from me. Until he became successful standup comedian, we were barely making the ends, and after a certain age I became fully aware that he was doing some bad things to make a living. Thit was the biggest reason why I couldn’t judge anyone based on who their parents were or their past, as sometimes in life we simply didn’t have choice, or we didn’t know better. If Ace and I ever spoke again I wouldn’t mention anything to him about the fact that I knew who his father was. Obviously, he didn’t want to be associated with him, not only because he had changed his name, but I remembered the only time he had ever mentioned his father was when he told me he had died before he was born, but the reluctance in his voice was as clear as a glass. This was something I could relate to. The despite I had for my mother was growing more and more with every passing year. The worst part was when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t have my father’s eyes or nose, neither the lips – it was all her. And I hated it, because the more I was growing up the more I could see the resemblance. Maybe that was why it was so easy for me to opened to Ace; we had different yet so similar pasts. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone vibrating, notifying me that I have a message. I reached to grab my phone and rose in bed immediately when I saw the message.

‘Stalking, huh?’ My heart skipped a beat when I read the message. It was from Ace. To say that I was confused would not be enough. Two weeks, we haven’t spoken for almost two weeks, and he hit me up at almost eleven pm with such cocky message. Sometimes I did forget how cocky Ace could be. I didn’t know how to response to the message. Not only I was embarrassed because, last thing I expected, was to get caught by him for checking out his Instagram profile, but because in fact I did not know how to respond to this. I thought for a moment to just ignore him the same way he ignored me in the past ten days, but I have always hated this back-and-forth games. I sighed before unlocking my phone and opening his message. All I could do was stare at it. I typed and deleted again and again as nothing seemed right to answer. At the end I send him the only thing that felt right – a middle finger emoji. Just that, a simple middle finger, as he did deserve it. I threw my phone next to me on the bed and ran my hands through my hair pulling it at the ends.

“Fucking Ace” I cursed out loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t response after this, but my phone vibrated again.

‘Yea, I deserve that. Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to ignore you.’ I rolled my eyes at the message. I started to type when I received a third message from him. ‘Something bugged with my phone and I wasn’t able to response.” My mouth opened wide as I couldn’t believe my eyes. I typed quickly, God the audacity this man had.

‘Thit was the best lie you came up with? Really?’ Chuckles escaped my lips as I couldn’t believe that he really thought I would fall for such a lame excuse. In response he just liked my message.

“Asshole.” I exclaimed loudly. This time I was pissed.

‘Fuck you Ace!’ The moment the message was sent he seen it and started to type.

‘Don’t be mad at me doll..’ I rolled my eyes again. Not the first nor it would be the last time I have had received this exact message from him.

‘I’m not your doll! Stop calling me that!’

‘You sure bout that?’

“Sure about which one exactly Ace?” I asked myself out loud. I left him on seen and decided to go to sleep as I have classes tomorrow morning. My phone vibrated again but this time it wasn’t a message it was a notification from Instagram. I laughed out loud.

‘@portgas.d.ace has requested to follow you.’ I read it out loud to myself. As much as he has pissed me, right now I was having fun with him. A mischievous idea crossed my mind and instead of accepting his request I denied it. He must apologise first and then he can have this access to me.

“These games can be played by two Ace.” I smirked to myself. My phone lit up again.

‘Did you just delete my request?’ I didn’t expect a response so fast and just like him earlier, I simply liked the message.

‘I’m not gonna request u again, doll ;)’ Instead of replying with my own response I forwarded him his own message - ‘You sure bout that?’

The smug smirk on my face growing with every second. He didn’t response after this, and I wondered if I pissed him off. Hopefully I did, if he thinks that I would easily forgive him, he was deeply wrong. These cheep tricks didn’t work on me and never would, so if he wants to have any kind of friendship with me, he better apologise properly for the past two weeks. I put my phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode and snuggled under my covers.

One thing I couldn’t deny was the warmth I felt in my heart and the smile on my face that Ace caused. Because – yes, I was still pissed at him, but it was also nice to chat with him again. I could say that in a way I missed him in the past ten days. It was so easy to get used to have him around. His charisma was intoxicating, no wonder he attracted so many people around himself. What bothers me, was the fact that I was catching myself craving these interactions with him. I shook my head trying to not think much of this right now, after all I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t hear from Ace for another two weeks.

When I woke up in the morning, I saw I had a message from Nami. She had texted me that classes for today were cancelled due to our teacher being sick and asked me if I wanted to go out with her for a coffee. I agreed and got up to get ready. After I brushed my teeth and washed my face I put some light makeup. Before I dressed myself, I checked the weather app to decide what to wear. It was still pretty cold outside, so I just put on a light pink polo shirt with a pair of dark blue flare jeans. I grabbed a small handbag and put some lipstick and my ID in it, before I put on my long white coat and boots. I locked the door and put my keys in the bag. While I was walking towards the metro station, I checked the location Nami sent me. It was going to take me twenty-five minutes to get to there, but the good thing was that I needed to use only one metro line. When I got into the metro, I put my headphones on and played some music. One of the songs that played was Ace’s. I have to admit that I have been listening to the band quite a lot – but I did in fact enjoy their music. The song that played was ‘Compass’ and I caught myself smiling. The memories of them performing it live playing vividly in my mind; the interaction Ace and I had while he sang the song, the hand gesture he did that only I knew what it was referring to, when I bumped into him after, and Shanks interrupting us and the whole night was just playing in my mind. It has been two months since then. Two months since we accidently met in the coffee shop that same day.

Two months since we became... friends. If I could even call us that. Nami and Usopp are my closest friends, this was something I could say confidently. And since I filmed the movie at Sanji’s place, I could say that him, Zoro and Luffy were definitely my friends as well at this point. They even acted like extras in the movie for which I was so grateful for. Dave and I started to become more and more close with every passing day. But with Ace... I called him my friend, but somehow the word still stayed bitter on my tongue. Because friends by my understandings didn’t behave the way Ace and I did. My heart doesn’t skip any beat when I hang out with Dave for example. I have never craved any of my friends touch the way I did with Ace. My mood didn’t change based on how they would response on a message or how they would act when we meet. My mind was not occupied with the thought of them like it was with Ace. Recently a lot of things in my life were revolving around Ace and I did not enjoy this.

Lost in thoughts I almost missed the stop, but snapped out of it just on time to go out of the metro. It took me another ten minutes to reach the coffee shop where Nami was waiting for me. Entering the cafe the smell of freshly made pastries and coffee beans hit my senses. The sound of the coffee machine and people typing on their laptops or chitchatting with their friends could be heard all over the place. The coffee shop was small but quite busy, busier than my favourite one. I looked around and saw Nami sitting on one of the cozy couches they had. She waved when she saw me, and I made my way to her.

“Heyyy!” I greeted her when she stood up to give me a hug. “You look amazing.” I complimented her as she was wearing a nice long off shoulder white dress with her hair put in a beautiful messy bun.

“Aw, thanks you (Y/N), you look great, too.” She said while I was taking my coat off putting it on the side of the sofa. “I was waiting for you to come before I order any coffee, so shall we go and take a look at the menu?” Nami asked and I nodded in response. We stood by the counter and looked at the drink menu they had on the walls. Nami ordered herself a caramel latte and I took for myself a nice orange and cinnamon tea. We thanked the barista once our drinks were made and went to sit back.

“So how have you been?” Nami was the first to speak.

“Pretty good.” I response taking a sip of my hot tea. “Now that we are done with the short-cuts and I have already edit mine, I’m good. How about you?”

“Uh, don’t ask.” She whined. “I’m almost done editing it, but I can’t wait for them to do the evaluations next week, so I don’t have to deal with this again until springtime.” I nodded, agreeing with her. “But anyway, let’s not talk school today. I have an amazing offer for you.” She smiled at me and grabbed my hands in hers.

“Oh no, what is it Nami?” I dramatically huffed as I knew it would be something that I might not be very found of.

“I don’t know if you heard or saw somewhere but Luffy’s brothers are going to perform at ‘Ska Stage’ and we are all going and you must join us this time.” My eyes widen at what she said. I didn’t pay attention at all where they were going to perform last night then I saw the story. ‘Ska Stage’ was the most famous live music club in Grand Line, only already known bands and artists were performing there.

“Wait, are you kidding me? Are they really performing at the ‘Ska Stage’?

“Yes, I’m serious. I reacted the same way, don’t worry.” She giggled at my expression.

“I’m only surprised because... you know...” I struggled to find my words. “It’s a place for already... well famous artists.” I meant this in the most respectful way. Yes, the guys were talented, but they were still not that known at all.

“I know what you mean.” Nami clearly read the confusion on mt face. “But they are actually gaining quite lot of attention since you filmed their video.” She gave me a big smile and nudged me. I looked away for a moment as I got quite flushed over the fact that I had a little input over the fact that the band got more recognised over the past few weeks. “On top of it, they are going on a little tour like five cities for like two months can you believe it.” She excitedly squeaked.

“What? Are you for real?” I exclaimed loudly and covered my mouth with my hands as I was about to let out a scream. Nami nodded eagerly in response. “Wow, I can’t believe it. It’s all happening so fast, and I’m so happy for the guys. But I only saw the story about the performance next Saturday nothing about a tour?” I said to her confused.

“Well, they are still in discussion with the venues but they are almost done with the talks so they should announce it pretty soon.” She explained. I hummed with a nod.

“How do you know?” I chuckled raising a brow at her.

“Luffy.” She shrugged. I let out a little laughed when she said his name. “So, you are coming, right?” Her brows raised expecting my answer. I hesitated for a moment – yes, I would love to hear and see the guys perform and actually enjoy it, not like last time when I was working. On the other hand – was Ace. “Oh, please don’t tell me that you are hesitating now.” Nami whined interrupting my thoughts. I shook my head and chuckled.

“No, actually, yes.” I laughed awkwardly. Before she got the chance to say something I raised my finger in front of her face, stopping her from saying anything. “But yes, I will come this time.” I said and she squeaked again clapping her hand happily. I giggled at her excitement. “Who else is coming?” I took my tea mug, still hot in my hands, blowing it before I take a sip.

“The usual – Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp and Kaya.” I smiled in response as I heard who was going to come as well. While Nami was taking a sip of her latte her eyes widen, and she started to jump on the spot before she put the mug back on the table. I gave her a questioning look, wondering what gotten into her now. “Oh my God, you need to hear this. It is a boiling tea – so you know Koala, Sabo’s girlfriend?” She asked me excitedly. One thing about Nami was that she loved gossips and rumours, especially if they were a hundred percent true. I just nodded waiting for her to continue. “Well... she is not the only girlfriend anymore.” She said wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Um... okay?” I got quite confused. “What do you mean by this? Like did some of them got in a relationship?”

“Yes, guess who?” She teased me, clearly enjoying this.

“I don’t know Nami, I don’t know the guys that well.” A puff of air left my nose in a makeshift laugh.

“Ace.” She mischievously smirked. For a moment I thought that my heart stopped when Ace’s name left her lips. Without realising my smile faded away and my brows frown, my whole-body slumping from the news. I looked down at my hands not knowing how to response. When? Was he having a thing with a girl this whole time? Was it Samantha or some other girl? How could he act so single if he was seeing another girl the whole time. I could feel my chest tighten. Thoughts were running wild in my head until Nami ironic laughter interrupted them.

“Oh God, I was joking, but seeing this reaction you can’t fool me anymore that nothing is going on between you and him.” Nami shook her head giving me a knowing look once I looked at her. She crossed her arms and tilted her head at me waiting for me to start speaking.

“Puff, I was joking as well. Gotch ya.” I poked her sides with my finger, trying to laugh off the situation. She just gave me a look, tapping her fingers on her arm as she crossed her legs facing me better now. I huffed and looked away for a second before I response. “Look, Nami...” I started not sure how to word my sentence. Nothing was happening between Ace and I, but at the same time things between us were weird. I couldn’t keep pretending that whatever was happening between us was a ‘friendship’ because it wasn’t. But I didn’t know what to called it either. I took a deep breath before I continued. “Nothing is happening, okay? And I swear by it when I say it. We are just... let’s say we are friends but not really friends, you get what I mean?” it was pointless to lie to her as she could be thousand things, but stupid was not one of them.

“What do you mean by ‘friends’ but not really? What you two sleep together or something?” She raised her shoulders as she was trying to understand what the situation was like.

“No, no, no I swear we have never done anything physical not even a kiss.” I quickly told her afraid that she might get the wrong idea. She gave me a doubtful glance. “Nami, I swear I haven’t done anything with Ace.” I looked her in the eyes, praying that she would see that I wasn’t lying to her. Nami sighed loudly and rubbed her temples. We stayed in a silence for a moment before she locked her eyes with mine. Her expression softened but instead of relief a bit of concern spread across her face.

“Do you have feelings for him?” Her tone was soft, but the concern was there. She even took one of my hands in her and gave it a gentle squeeze. I quickly shook my head and laughed at her question.

“Nami, no. Are you crazy?” I looked at her like she was coming from another planet. I didn’t have any feelings for Ace. I was just simply confused of where we stood as friends. “I don’t have any feelings or anything close to feelings for him.” I continued to deny it. Nami tilted her head down a bit, her eyes focused on mine as she bit her lips not believing my answer.

“Then why did you react like you got splashed with boiled water when I said he has a girlfriend?” I didn’t know how to answer this question. I didn’t even realise how I had reacted until she pointed it out.

“I just got surprised because I didn’t expect to hear his name at all.” I tired to defend my reaction.

“(Y/N)... look, Ace is... a big flirt, okay? I would understand if you have already developed some crush on him, but he is not a relationship guy and you... you are a relationship girl.” Nami was struggling to find her words and I could clearly see this, but I was taken aback when I heard her observation about me.

“What do you mean by me being a ‘relationship’ girl?”

“I mean that you are the type who wants stability not a one-night stand.” Nami clicked her tongue. I frowned my brows. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “You see, that is what I mean, you can’t even deny it yourself.” She laughed at me.

“So what? Is that a bad thing?” I snapped. “Plus, I don’t have any feelings towards him, and I promise you he doesn’t see me for anything more than a friend. He made sure to make this clear.” I murmured the last part. Nami squeezed my hand again and I looked at her.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m saying that Ace is not the guy for it.” She explained as patted me on the shoulder. “I know a guy with an obvious crush on you though.” She smirked when I turned my head quick to look at her.

“Who?” I snorted raising my eyebrow curiously.

“I’m not telling you until you at least admit you have a crush on Ace.” She nagged with a smile.

“Nami I’m not admitting anything, I don’t have a crush on Ace. Yes, I do find him attractive but so what? Finding someone attractive and having crush on them are two different things.” I said and rolled my eyes at her. “Now tell me who has crush on me?”

“Yeah, keep lying to yourself.” She also rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway, are you really not getting who I am referring to?” Nami giggled at my confused expression. I shook my head, I couldn’t think of anyone who might have crush on me. “Come on, try to guess at least.” She nagged me.

“Nami, I really don’t know I don’t interact with a lot of guys, so tell me, who is it?” It won’t be Ace this was something I was sure of.

“Dave.” Nami said and smirked. I laughed at her answer.

“No, he doesn’t.” I continued to laugh. When it comes to Dave, this was a relationship that I was a thousand percent sure what was it, and it was nothing more than a friendship. “Look, I might be confused with my ‘friendship’ with Ace, but when it comes to Dave, I’m pretty sure where we stand.” I confidently said, taking a sip of my now chilled tea.

“Girl, be fucking for real now.” Nami mocked me. “Dave is head over hills for you, and you are so blind to see it, and now I know why – because you are too busy focusing on the wrong guy aka Ace.” She blabbed and I gave her an ice-cold look.

“First of all, I’m not focused at all on Ace, and second you are wrong about Dave, plus I don’t see him in that way, so case closed.” I gave her a mocking smile and she rolled her eyes at me again.

“Okay, answer this one question and I won’t bother you anymore, if you have to choose between Ace and Dave who would you choose?” The look in her eyes was challenging as she raised her eyebrow.

“The one who makes me feel understood.” I said and winked at her, knowing that my answer left her confused a bit. She was about to protest when I interrupted. “Now tell me the tea.” I knew this was going to distract Nami for a bit. I didn’t want to talk anymore about Ace, let alone Dave as Nami was more wrong about Dave than she was about Ace.

“Oh yes, so apparently Law is having a serious girlfriend now. And she is also coming to watch them, and we are going to meet her as she will be joining our group with Koala.” Her eyes lit up with excitement while she was giving me more and more details about the whole ‘Law’s girlfriend’ situation. At some point I stopped her little rant to ask where she got all this information from which she gave me two names – Luffy and Usopp. At this point these two were as big of a gossipers as Nami was. We stayed for a little bit more before we decided to leave. While we were walking to the metro station, we continue to chitchat. Before we went to our separate ways, I called after her.

“About... about Ace... you wouldn’t tell anyone, right?” I knew she wouldn’t, but I had to make sure she would promise she wouldn’t mention anything to anyone.

“I haven’t seen nor heard anything.” She winked at me and smile before disappearing from my sight. I bit on my lip nodding to myself before I turned to walk to my direction.

On my way to home I started to think of what Nami said, especially about Dave. We did become closer in the past few weeks, but not in the way Nami saw it. We did hang out a lot around the university, Dave invited me out a few times, but I had to turn him down as I was busy with other things at the time. But going out and going on a date were two different things and Dave never invited me out on a date. He was just super friendly and a good person in general, so Nami was left with the wrong impression. Even if he did invite me on a date, I would have turned it down as I didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. Seeing Dave around university or even if I saw him randomly on the street would be nice, as he was my friend and I love coming across my friends, but there would be no blood rush, no heartbeat skipped, no excitement for when I would see him again – I would simply feel nothing.

I got home and changed into something more comfortable and like every other day I was either going to read or watch something as I didn’t have any other plans for the day. I sat on the sofa and grabbed my phone. Without realising what I was doing I opened my messages with Ace. When I realised what I have done I slightly shook my head in confusion. I knew why I opened his messages because when I was with Nami I thought of texting Ace to congratulate him on performing in ‘Ska Stage’ but he still hasn’t apologised properly so I shook the thought away. But now – home alone and bored I realised that I didn’t want to just congratulate him, I wanted to speak with him, to have some kind of interaction with him. I caught myself craving his presence, his attention even and this scared me to my core. Tossing my phone to the side before I do something that I might regret later, I grabbed the blanket and threw it over me before I put something to watch. I tried to shake the feeling away and distract my mind from Ace.

Whatever I put on the TV didn’t matter as my thoughts ran back to my last conversation I had with Kid. Out of nowhere I remembered the last time we saw and spoke to each other. It was after the Halloween party and I remembered I asked him how to tell if a guy who was kind of an ass might be into me, and his answer was simple – he would keep his distance but fail to do so every time. I wondered if this was the case with Ace, but I doubt it. Ace was just... Ace. Whatever might have logic to explain things for a normal person it didn’t apply for him. Ace was special in his own unique way, the last thing on the list of why he would constantly disappear and reappear was because he was into me. After all he was the one who made sure to make it clear that we would never be anything more than friends, even thought his view for ‘friendship’ was questionable. At this point I was the one who must distance myself from him even if it would be quite hard considering how much time I have spent recently just thinking about him. Yes, I should do this. I can’t afford to fall for Ace, let alone to admit to myself that the ‘innocent’ crush was starting to grow into something bigger.

The following week past by fast and before I knew it was already Friday. We were having our official evaluations today and I was quite nervous, but at the same time I was looking forward to seeing my classmates’ movies and see how everyone’s vision has come to life. I took a seat between Nami and Usopp. Usopp pulled out different type of candies and small snacks from his backpack as we were going to watch movies the entire day and there was noting better than having something to munch on while watching. First it was Nami’s group, so for the first four hours we were watching their movies. Nami’s short film was beautiful, it actually made me tear up, as it was about a girl who was saying goodbye to her childhood toys in metaphor of losing her innocence. Her movie started so colourful – everything filmed in warm tones, while the end was in a way darker colours representing the grieving of the girl.

“It’s beautiful Nami.” I whispered to her as I wrapped my arms around her when the film finished. She cooed at me as she saw me crying and gave me a napkin.

“Thank you.” Nami said to me and then focused on what our teachers had to say about it.

After we saw the last movie from her group, we got an hour for lunchbreak. Today was pouring rain outside so we went to the university cafeteria and sat by one of the tables next to the big windows. We were mostly discussing the movies we saw and which of them we liked the best. As we were talking Dave saw us and came by our table, taking a seat next to me.

“Hey, what’s up guys? How are the evaluations going?” He gave me a charming smile before he focused his attention to Nami and Usopp. Nami glanced at me for a second before a little smiled formed on her face. I mockingly rolled my eyes at her as I knew what she was implying with this look on her face. Usopp and Dave started to chitchat and Nami was joining from time to time. I was eating my sandwich not really paying attention to their conversation, looking at the rain falling outside from the window as I had something totally different in mind. I felt a finger poking my sides and I quickly turned my head towards Dave. “What’s up? Are you out in space again?” He asked with a smile, but my eyes widen at his question. Did he just say, ‘are you out with Ace again?’

“Excuse me?” I must have heard wrong. Dave laughed at my expression and repeated his question.

“I asked, are you out in space again?” This time he said it slower. My brows raised and my mouth formed in an ��O’ shape as this time I heard correctly.

“Sorry, I heard something totally different.” I chuckled. “Yes, I was out in deep space again.”

“What did you hear?” Usopp asked raising his eyebrow. I waved my hand in dismiss as it wasn’t important.

“So, Dave what are you doing tomorrow?” Nami asked him but glanced at me. She was up to something. I could tell it by the way her eyes had mischievous flame dancing in them.

“Watching football match with some of my friends. Why?” He turned his head to Nami, interested in what she was about to offer him.

“Do you want to come with us instead to watch the guys perform live?” She gave him a saccharine smile resting her chin on her palm. I shoot her a quick annoyed glance before I could stop myself. I didn’t even know why I did it, but I just hoped that Dave would say no.

“The guys?” Dave asked before he realised whom Nami was referring to. “Oh, your friends? No, thank you I will pass.” He said, but it was something in his tone that caught me off.

“What do you mean by ‘no I will pass’?” I mocked his voice. Dave raised his shoulders a bit and gave me an apologetic look before he answered me.

“Not a fan, sorry.” He awkwardly said, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding looking at me.

“Why’s that Dave?” Nami asked just a second before I could. I could see that Dave was getting a little uncomfortable.

“Let’s just say that it’s not my type of music.” He chuckled. I snorted at his response, and they all turned their attention towards me.

“Yes, they are. You have played me some of your friends’ music and it is quite similar to what Ace does.”

“They do.” Nami quickly added. I gave her a questionable look. “You said ‘what Ace does’ I’m just correcting you that they are four of them.” She smugly smiled at me knowing what she was doing. Usopp’s eyes shifted between both of us catching that something was up. Dave had his head turned to the side so I couldn’t see his reaction as he was facing away from me.

“Ha-ha did I? Well, usually we refer to the lead singer, don’t we?” I chuckled awkwardly hoping that no one would make a big deal out of it. Dave taped his hand on the table before he stood from his chair.

“I have to go now, guys. See you around.” He bit us a quick goodbye and left before we could say anything.

“That was strange.” I said. Usopp nodded and Nami gave me a look. “What?”

“Usopp, do you think Dave is into (Y/N)?” Nami tilted her head to Usopp. My eyes widen in disbelieve. Usopp just nodded in response as he was eating. Once he swallowed his food, he cleared his throat before he spoke.

“It is painfully obvious.” He took another bite of his food.

“Thank you, Usopp.” Nami loudly exclaimed and clapped with her hands.

“No, he is not. I promise you guys, you are wrong about this.” I argued with them. Dave was not into me and even if he was, I refused to believe it as the feelings weren’t mutual. Nami was about to start arguing with me, but Usopp beat her.

“Yes, he is. He even asked me if you are seeing someone and if that was why you are turning him down all the time.” He calmly said. My brows raised up when I heard that. “He even thought that something is going on between you and Ace, but I promised him that there is nothing going on between you two.” I side-eyed Nami when Usopp mentioned Ace and she raised her eyebrow at me with a ‘I told you’ look written all over her face.

“I have never turned him down, neither I knew that he was asking me out on a date.” I quickly defended myself. “Plus, he asked me as well for Ace, and I told him that nothing is going on between us, I don’t know where he got this idea from.” I sighed rolling my eyes.

“Ace was giving him looks while we were filming the video all the time, so no wonder he thought you might be the reason why, but I reassured him that Ace is sometimes like this around new people.” Usopp explained.

“Yeah, Ace does this sometimes. No wonder Dave left when you mentioned him.” The sassiness in Nami’s voice clicked something in me and I got pissed.

“Okay, I want to make something clear to everyone once and for all.” I stood up from my chair as I started to put my lunchbox back in my bag. “There is nothing between Ace and I, okay? Is that clear?” I pointed my finger at both as they were looking at me with widen eyes, surprised by my outburst. “And I have made it clear that I’m not interested in dating anyone, so if someone has anything towards me sorry not sorry it is not mutual. Now please if you excuse me, I need some time alone.” I put my bag on my shoulder and storm out of the cafeteria.

I went out for a few minutes to get some fresh air. The rain was still pouring, and it was getting even colder, but I needed some time alone. Why was everyone assuming something was happening between Ace and me? All the ‘closure’ we have ever had was when no one has been around. Did Luffy mention something? I have heard that he has a big mouth, but he did promise me to not tell anyone about that one time I stayed over Ace’s place. Honestly, I was tired of hearing and talking about Ace and in the past week or so he was the main topic in all the conversations I have had with people.

I looked at time on my phone and sighed. It was time to go back to the cinema room to watch my groups movies. I slowly made my way there and when I entered Nami and Usopp were waiting for me. For a moment I hesitated if I should take a new seat, but this was going to be very childish of me, so I just sat between them without saying anything. They gave me an apologetic look, but I just ignore it.

My movie was the third one of that we saw from our group. It received something between a bad and a good grade, which wasn’t the grade I was aiming for and this made me a disappointed at myself. I knew it wasn’t going to be the best, but also, I didn’t expect it to be so average.

“It was a great movie (Y/N).” Nami whispered in my ear as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder. Usopp gave me the thumbs up and mouthed ‘good job’. I slightly nodded and thanked them. If my mood was bad because of the conversation we had before the second part of the evaluations now it was completely ruined. Usopp’s movie was last – it was about a man who had to choose between chasing his dream or staying to live in the small town where he came from with the love of his life. The ending was open to the audience which added a very nice note to the movie. I patted him on the back when it finished, as he did a great job. After the evaluations were done, I was the first one to leave the room immediately. I heard Usopp yelling after me, but I guessed Nami stopped him as none of them came after me for which I was thankful. All I wanted was to be alone for a bit.

I got home as quick as possible. The moment I took off my jacket and boots and sat on the couch my tears stared to fall. As much as I doubted myself, I have always tried to be the best in the things that I did. Knowing how much effort I put into this project and receiving an average grade did affect me. I knew that my script wasn’t the most unique scenario out there, but the grade was not based on scripts. It was based on directing. And I did fail. I pulled my legs close to my chest as I wrapped my hands around my body. Quiet sobs left my body. Thoughts were running wild in my mind about what I could have done differently to change the outcome of the movie. It was only a project, but it was the most important one for the first semester, and in my mind, I failed it. And I knew that many more projects were coming, but it wasn’t just the grade that put me down – it was the effort, the stress, the time, all this that I invested in, only to be an average result. I looked at my phone and I saw that I had some messages from Usopp and Nami, wondering if I was alright and if I needed someone to talk to I should call them. Another sob left my lips as I realised how bad I treated them today with my outburst. They were too nice to me. I didn’t respond to them right away instead I was just staring at the contacts I had on iMessage. There was one person who I knew was going to understand me, but I didn’t want to bother him. It was more like I wasn’t sure if he would mind me to bother him.

Before my mind could process it, I was already dialing his number. I put it on speaker and placed it on my right knee as I propped my head on my left one. The phone continued to ring for some time and just as I was about to hang up, he picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and raspy as always.

“I failed my short-cuts.” I said quietly and sniffed.

“I doubt this, doll.” His tone was soft but the way he said it was very assuring.

“Oh, I-I did Ace. I really did a b-bad job, the grade I got i-is quite average a-and compared to my classmates m-movies mine was just ‘okay’, nothing wow. I-I failed as a d-director.”

“Wow, wow, calm down okay. First of all, are you crying?” Ace asked concerned. I hummed and sniffed again. “Doll, please relax. I know the feeling, okay? We can’t always be at the top.” He chuckled. “And you said that your movie is average, you didn’t say ‘bad’ – average doesn’t always mean bad.”

“But it was nothing ‘wow’. And I had made quite lot of mistakes directing the actors.” I cried.

“Oh, you cry baby.” Ace chuckled softly. “Last time I checked you were a filmmaking student, not a filmmaker already. Don’t beat yourself so much. Just learn from whatever mistakes you’ve made.” His tone continued to be calm and reassuring. I didn’t know how to respond to what he said because he was right. I was overthinking it rather than learn from it. “Do you need me to come?” He broke the silence that took over the phone.

“No, please don’t. I just... I just needed someone to talk to.” I sniffed again and whipped my tears with the back of my hand. I cursed myself in my mind. “I’m so sorry for calling you, I don’t know what took over me. I-I hope... I-I didn’t bother you with my o-outburst and... and c-can we forge-” Ace was quick to interrupt me.

“You didn’t bother me at all.” His voice was tender. “And stop apologising and crying, otherwise I will come despite your wants.” He warned me and I could sense that he wasn’t joking. “Also, I doubt your movie is as bad or ‘boring’ as you clamed it to be. So next time your pretty face is free you are coming over and showing it to me, okay?” His voice was playful which made me smile.

“Okay.” I giggled. “I will do that, I promise.”

“Good.” He simply responded. “Plus, give yourself some credit. Our music video is already at two hundred thousand views on YouTube, and you directed this. Not many of you classmates can say the same, am I wrong?” I have totally forgotten about this, until Ace mentioned it. It has gained even more views in the last week.

“Oh my, I didn’t know it got so many views. Congrast Ace.” My smile grew wilder.

“Well, thanks, but this was possible because of you. Don’t forget that.” He hummed on the phone.

“You give me too much credit. People listen to the music and don’t pay that much attention to the video.”

“Yes and no, bu-” Ace got interrupted as I could hear someone calling for him. “Listen doll, I must go now, as we are rehearsing for tomorrow. But please, relax. It was just a grade not the determination of your career.”

“You are right.” I let out a sigh.

“If you need something or...” He paused for a second before continuing. “Or you need me just let me know.” His voice got even lower, and I just hummed in response. “Okay, I have to go now, take care.”

“Ace...” I said just before he hung up.

“Yes, doll.”

“Thank you.” I whispered. He didn’t say anything and just hung up.

I could feel myself relax a bit. This was the thing about Ace – he always knew how to make me relax, how to calm me down, how to make me feel safe. Even if we haven’t seen each other for almost three weeks now, deep down when I was dailing his number I knew that he would pick up. I knew that he was the only person who could calm me down and he did. I got this weird warm feeling in my chest when I recalled him calling me ‘pretty face’. He knew how to sweep a girl off her feet. If I wasn’t affected right now, I was probably going to make some snarky comment on it, but not this time. I took my phone and quickly wrote an apologetic message to Nami and Usopp.

After almost an hour I got a phone call from unknown number. I picked up and it was a delivery. The delivery guy asked me if I could give him the door code so he could deliver it to my door or if I would like to go down and picked it up myself. I explained that I haven’t ordered anything, but he said that he had my address and name given with the phone number. That was strange, but I gave him the door code as I was too lazy to go down myself. The doorbell rang and I opened. He gave me the bag with whatever was inside and left. I closed the door and looked at bag that seemed to have food in it. I raised my eyebrows in confusion because I haven’t made any order. I put the bag on the kitchen counter and opened it.

“No, he didn’t.” I exclaimed as I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand. Inside the bag was a box of my favourite chicken wings from Pappa Grappa and there was another box with three different cakes – a chocolate cake, a carrot cake and an Oreo cheesecake. There was also a little note in the bag: ‘I wasn’t sure which one you would like so I got you all three – Ace.’ I almost started to cry again. No one has ever done such gesture for me. My hear was beating fast in my chest. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I tried to stop the big smile growing on my face. Why would he do such thing for me? I grabbed my phone and quickly wrote him a message.

‘You didn’t have to do this... but thank you.’

‘I know. I just wanted to.’ He replied after some time.

I reread his message a few times. It was on a repeat in my mind. Something in this message made me feel in a way I have never felt before. But not in a way where butterflies were flying in your stomach or you breath stops, nothing like this. It was this hard to explain feeling of significance if I may call it this way. Like he cared about me, otherwise he wouldn’t do such thing. Ace is a good person, but I have noticed that there are things which he would do only for those who he cared for. A warm feeling bloomed in my heart. Ace cared for me.

I placed my hand on my chest, feeling the beating of my heart. This wasn’t a ‘innocent’ crush anymore. I couldn’t lie or deny it to myself anymore. After all, in a bad day like this one he was the first person I called, he was the person I needed, he was the person who made it better. I did not fall from this small gesture – no. This small gesture just opened my own eyes for the truth that I was trying to deny myself. I did have feelings for Ace. They were nowhere near to being in love with him, but they were there. They were there, freed from the shackles I have had wrapped around them. I felt free as I no longer needed to lie to myself. Yes, maybe they weren’t mutual feeling, but the fact that he cared for me in his own way was enough. I picked a fork from the kitchen drawer and opened the cake box taking a bite of the chocolate cake. I wasn’t sure if the cake was really this sweet or me coming to terms with my feelings towards Ace. The only thing in my mind without any guilt this time was the thought of Ace and the fact that I was going to see him tomorrow night.

My apartment was a mess. There were clothes and shoes everywhere and my make up was all spread around the bathroom counter. Nami and Sanji were going to pick me up in less than an hour now and I was nowhere close by being ready. I have just finished doing my hair and what was left was choosing an outfit and putting a lipstick on. Since yesterday I was thinking what should I be wearing tonight, and nothing seemed to be good enough. I even called Nami earlier wondering what she was planning to wear even thought I wasn’t planning on matching with her. Her saying that she was going to wear a mini dress gave me the confidence to go for something not so cold friendly as well. Speaking of Nami, I received a message from her that they were going to be outside my place in fifteen minutes, and it sent me into a spiral.

I set my mind on something simple, yet eye catching – a silver sparkling mini skirt with a white top. I added some nice sliver jewellery as final touches to the outfit before I put on my white high heel booths on and coat. I took a final look at myself and realised I forgot to put on lipstick. I ran to the bathroom and searched for the one I had in mind. When I finally found it and the lip pencil, I carefully lined my lips and filed them up with the lipstick. Now I gave myself one final look and smiled at myself. I put the lipstick and the lippen in my coat’s pocket as I decided to skip on a purse.

Running down the stairs my heart was beating fast. In less than an hour I was going to see Ace and this bubble of excitement was growing bigger with every passing minute. We haven’t seen each other in three weeks, and I was going to lie if I said I didn’t put extra effort in the way I looked today. Opening the backseat door of the car I was met with almost the whole gang.

“Hey guys.” I greeted all four of them. Luffy scouched in the middle seat making space for me to sit. When I sat down, we three were like sardines in a can, and we started to laugh as Luffy was too tall to sit in the middle. I offered him to switch before Sanji drove off, but he said he was okay. “I didn’t know you two were coming with Nami and Sanji.” I said to Luffy and Zoro.

“A free ride is a free ride, shihihi.” Luffy grinned at me. Zoro slightly nodded agreeing with Luffy.

“You look mesmerising (Y/N).” Sanji complimented me as we locked eyes in the front mirror.

“Thank you, Sanji. You too, as always.” I smiled at his compliment.

“Be careful (Y/N), you might give this dumbhead, a heart attack and he will crash us before we even drove off.” Zoro snorted.

“You better shut up, before I kick you out of my car, mosshead.” Sanji snapped back. They started to snap back and forth between each other, something that was a typical for them. Luffy was laughing at their banter and Nami turned to me.

“Girl, you look stunning. Planning to break some hearts tonight?” She teased me.

“I could say the same about you.” I teased her back. I couldn’t see how she was dressed under her coat, but she mentioned she was going to wear a red mini dress. Her hair was up in a very nicely done bun while some strands were freely falling around her beautify face.

Soon we arrived at the club. The queue was long, way longer than the one in front of ‘The Red Pirates’. The security guards were intimidating but not as much as Beckman and Lucky. Behind them the loud music from the club could be heard even far away from the entrance. Suddenly a small wave of anxiety hit me, and I wrapped my coat tighter around my body. Zoro seemed to notice and came closer to me.

“Don’t worry, we are cutting past the queue, and we have a special table.” He said in my ear. I smiled and nodded at him, as silent thank you for his reassuring. Nami called after us to follow her. By the entrance were standing Koala and one more girl. The girl had a tall and nicely curved body. Her long black hair was falling freely on her back. When she turned around, I was amazed, as I have never seen such a gorgeous woman before. I even heard Zoro murmuring ‘damn’ quietly under his breath.

“Hello guys.” Koala waved her hands excitedly at us. Luffy was first to reached her and he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up from the ground. “Luffy put me down.” She squeaked happily. He did as he was told and let a boyish laugher. When she saw Nami and me she gave us hugs. “How are you girls, you look stunning.” She complimented us. “Oh, everyone. This is Robin, Law’s girlfriend.” Koala introduced us to the beautiful woman who’s name we have just learned. I glanced at Zoro whose face was unreadable as always, but I caught his lip twitching a bit when he heard that Robin was taken.

“Nice, to meet you, Robin.” I smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you, as well guys. I have heard quite a lot about you.” She shyly chuckled.

“Whatever you have heard and depends on from who it might be true.” Sanji winked at her. Nami sighed loudly next to him and nudged his sides. Sanji gave her an apologetic look as he couldn’t contain his admiration towards Robin.

“Are we all here?” Koala asked as she counted us to make sure we didn’t miss someone.

“Usopp and Kaya should be here any minute now.” Luffy told her.

“Okay, let’s wait for them. Hopefully they come soon as I need to go and see my man before his big night.” Her eyes sparkled when she referred to Sabo. “And Robin here, too. It’s so nice to know that I’m not the only girlfriend you know.” She said jokingly.

It didn’t take long for Usopp and Kaya to join us. Now when we were all together Koala cut the line and spoke with the guards. They nodded at us and took down the rope letting us in. We walked in straight and left our coats in the cloakroom.

“Wow, (Y/N), you look gorgeous, I love the skirt.” Koala said to me as I took of my coat. I got flattered by her compliment.

“Oh, thank you. I bought it in the summer but never got the chance to wear it.” I chuckled.

“Well, tonight is your lucky night.” She winked at me before she turned to everyone. “Okay guys, follow me to our table and from there on you deal on your own.” Koala clapped her hands, and like a kindergarten kids we followed her strictly.

The club was big, it could probably fit up to five hundred people, and the fact that the guys sold out the show meant it would be full tonight. The illumination lights were showering the place in blue and purple colours. Where the stage was positioned the band’s logo was on display, behind the DJ booth. The music which he was playing was quite popular and catchy so there were already a lot of people dancing and singing on the dance floor. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded as the bar was. I could only imagine the stress the bartenders were under with so many people around. We reached the VIP section and there was security standing at the podium. Koala showed them something on her phone and they nodded letting us pass and gave us paper bracelets, which were for them to know that we were allowed in this aera.

“Okay, guys I have pre-ordered the drinks I know you all usually drink. There are waitresses as well so if you go out of something let them know.” Koala had to scream so we could hear her. “Robin and I must go and see the guys before they start, so leave something for us as well, okay?” She laughed before grabbing Robin by the hand and disappearing into the crowed. I frowned a bit, as I realised, I wouldn’t be able to see Ace until they were done performing.

“Luffy, I love your brothers for paying for all of this.” Nami wrapped her arms around Luffy giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Come on guys, let’s get this party started.” Luffy yelled over the music and clapped with his hands. It didn’t take Zoro and Sanji another second to start opening the three bottles of alcohol in the table. They filled up everyone’s glasses with ether vodka or rum, Zoro and Luffy mixing both, with some cola or redbull. Zoro handed me mine and I thanked him. Everyone cheered and took a sip of their drink. I didn’t want to get drunk tonight, so I was planning to keep it light with the drinks. The guys were going to perform around twelve and I had no idea what time it was already. I got a little jump scared when I started to pat my sides only to realise, I forgot my phone in my coat. An annoyed sigh left my lips. Kaya was sitting next to me, wrapped in Usopp arms so I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Kaya, do you have any idea what time it is?” I leaned close to her ear so she could hear me. She took Usopp’s hand and looked at his watch.

“Eleven twenty.” She said as loud as possible over the loud music. I nodded my head and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I took look at our surroundings. The club got even more crowded since we have been here. Sanji and Usopp were chitchatting about something, while Nami was in between Zoro and Luffy taking vodka shots. The VIP podium was a little higher so while my eyes were roaming around, they locked with some random guy. He gave me a smile and raised his drink at me for a greeting. I raised mine just a bit, giving him an awkward smile in return.

“Get up you two.” Nami came and pulled both of Kaya and me up. “We are here to have fun, not to sit like some old people.” She handed each of us a glass of shot. We were about to protest when she pointed her finger at us with a stern look. Kaya and I glanced at each other, and we raised the shot glasses for a cheer before drinking them. I scrunched my face from the after taste and Kaya’s whole body shook. “Now we are talking.” Nami smiled wide.

“I will run to the toilets.” I said to Kaya.

“You want me to come with you?” She gently placed her hand on my mine.

“No, it’s fine, I will be back fast.” I reassured her and turned around to go and search for the toilets. I stopped and asked the security to guided me where I could find them, and he pointed the direction. On my way to the toilets, I had to push through people as everyone was bumping into each other. Someone bumped into me but instead of saying sorry or anything they just stayed there. It was the guy who smiled at me a few minutes ago.

“Hey, you.” He came closer to me and leaned to my ear. “You are quite an eye catch.” He said eyeing me up and down. I gave him another awkward smile as I tried to move past him. But he didn’t let me.

“Sorry I need to go to the toilet.” I screamed over the loud music as I took a step back.

“Give me, your name at least.” He came closer to me again. This guy was making me feel uncomfortable. In comparison to me he was taller, but not very tall. Very muscular, but obviously not naturally. His hair was cut short and somehow it suited his face. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t attractive as well. It didn’t really matter as I was not interested in him at all. I got the hint that he wouldn’t let me go until he gets my name, so I gave it to him. “I hope to get to see you again (Y/N).” He said as he stepped aside. I quickly made my way to the toilet and sighed in relief. This guy gave me the chills.

As the security guy was letting me back in the VIP aera my breath got caught in my lungs. Ace was at our table speaking with Usopp and Luffy. He was standing with his back facing me, but I could recognise his posture and black raven hair from miles away. The security snapped his fingers in front of my face as I had frozen on the spot. I lowered my head and stared to slowly walk to our table. I tried to fix my hair a bit before he could see me. My heart started to beat fast and my mind to run wild. How should I approach him? Or what should I tell him? Before could answer these questions myself Usopp pointed out at me. Ace’s body slightly turned as he turned his head to look at me. He was dressed like the first time I saw them perform, all black with his shirt unbuttoned a bit revelling his muscular chest with his red beam neckless around his neck. Chills ran down all over my body when our gazes locked. His face was unreadable. I finally stood in front of them three, but I couldn’t dare to look at Ace as my shyness took over.

“Where did you go?” Luffy was the first one to speak.

“Toilet.” I shortly replied. My eyes shyly moved to look at Ace as I could feel his eyes on me. A little smile was playing on his lips. Kaya pulled Usopp by the hand for something and Luffy took a step back going back to Zoro.

“You know I don’t bite, doll.” Ace took a step towards me and leaded closer to my ear so I could hear him. Even with high heels on he was still taller than me and I had to look up to meet his eyes. I gave him a playful eyeroll.

“I-I just didn’t expect to see you.” I replied and tried to hide the fact that I got a little nervous seeing him.

“Oh, sorry did you come to see ‘The Ghetto’ tonight? They cancelled so we had to take over.” He joked with me and a big grin spread over his face. I chuckled and pushed his chest playfully to get away from me.

“I thought I won’t see you until after you perform.” I said.

“I got bored and came to say ‘hi’ to Luffy.”

“Only to Luffy?” I gasped and dramatically put my hand to my chest. Ace snorted and tilted his head to the stage.

“Well, enjoy yourself, I gotta go.” He said as he turned to leave, but before he did, he leaned closer to my ear again. “You look flawless, doll.” The way he said it with his low and raspy voice, almost making it impossible to hear him over the loud music, made my legs go numb. Before I could reply, he was gone. As I snaped out of the trance I got in and looked at the table praying that no one saw our little interaction. Someone yelled shots and I reached with my hand and quickly grabbed one from the table. The taste of it burning my insides but after this close encounter with Ace I needed one. Koala and Robin joined us soon after and quickly grabbed a drink for themselves.

The guys came on stage after twenty minutes. They were met with loud applauses. From our spot Luffy whistled loudly and Usopp joined him, while Koala was shouting Sabo’s name. My entire focus was on Ace. He looked so confident, his whole presence and aura filling up the space. His charming smile was big as he ran his hand through his hair. He turned his head to look at Sabo and nodded to him that they could start playing.

If things were different, we were young Skinny dipping, having fun, I remember

His voice was melodious filling the air with a soulful melody. Ace might have been hard to read when it came to his emotions, but when he was singing, he was pouring all of them and his feelings into the lyrics.

What a mistake saying the way I felt I'd say my main influence is myself And 'cause I started young, I learned a ton, I didn't run

I knew this was one of the songs which he wrote himself. When we were looking for locations to shoot their music video, I asked Ace if they wrote their songs together or if it was only one of them who did it. He told me that it depended, but mostly it was Law and Sabo who wrote their songs. I got surprised by his response back then as I always thought he had a big input on the songs, but he added that there were some songs he wrote entirely himself, and the ‘Alleyways’ was one of them.

All I wanted would become everything I ever loved, I remember (I left myself in the alleyway)

Loud applauses and cheering came the moment the song finished.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Ace, the guy playing the drums is my brother Sabo, on my left is Law and on my right is Deuce. We are ‘The Neighbourhood’ and we thank you for being here tonight.” Ace spoke on the microphone and another round of cheers came from the crowed. They didn’t waste any time and started to play their next song.

Their set was amazing. People were singing and dancing, enjoying the night. Even Zoro joined and sang some of the lyrics in their songs. When they sang ‘Compass’ Koala and I sang the loudest of our group. The song was written for her after all, but I had my own special moment with it as well. They wrapped their performance with ‘Sweater Weather’ and the entire crowed sang with them the song. After all it was their most popular song.

“Thank you everyone.” Ace said as they finished with their performance. “This was the first time ever we have played live in front of so many people. Again, a big thank you to all of you who support us. Before we leave the stage, we have two important things to announce.” His smile grew big as he was met with loud cheering. “First we are going on a small tour across the country.” Everyone cheered for them in unison, I even felt my heart skipping a beat when Ace announced it, happy that this was happening. “And second... should I actually tell them guys?” He chuckled playfully as he turned to look at the rest of the band. They nodded at him with big smiles on their faces. “We are working on our first official album which means that a lot of new music is coming your way.” The cheering from the people around was nothing compared to the shock faces of all of us, even Koala and Luffy.

“Did you know about this?” Luffy yelled at her with excitement. She shook her head ‘no’ but both hugged and started to jump happily.

“Did you know Robin?” I asked her as she was standing next to me.

“No, I didn’t. But Law did mention to me that they were going to announce something important tonight other than the small tour.” She explained and gave me a big smile.

The guys left the stage, and the DJ took over again. It would take them some time to join us. I felt a little tipsy from the shots and the two glasses of rum and cola that I drank. Knowing that Ace would be here soon I started to get a little nervous so I tapped Nami on the shoulder and told her that I would be back in a second as I needed to go to the toilet. She was too invested in her conversation with Usopp and Sanji that she didn’t pay me much attention.

It took me some time to reach the toilets. There were some girls crying while others were trying to calm them down. Others were drunk complimenting each other – the whole girl club experience. I washed my hands and looked myself in the mirror. My lipstick was gone at this point only the faint line of my lipliner was visible. I sighed as my lipstick was also in my coat. One girl saw my struggle and offered me her lipstick, but I politely declined. I quickly fixed my hair a bit and left the bathroom. Sudden thirst for water hit me and before I return to our table I went to the bar. I waited around ten minutes until it was my turn to order.

“Hey, can I just have a glass of water?” I yelled at the bartender so she could hear me over the loud music. She nodded and handed me a glass filed up with cold water. I thanked her and moved to the side, so I didn’t hold the queue. Putting the glass down on the bar counter I felt someone behind me. I turned around and the guy from earlier was standing there with two glasses filled up with some drink.

“I saw you again I couldn’t resist the urge to buy you drink. Have been admiring you the whole night so I’ve noticed you drink rum and coke.” He smiled and extended his hand offering me the drink.

“Ha, oh, thanks.” I grabbed the drink as I didn’t want to offend him. The creepy vibes this guy was giving me were growing with every passing second.

“Cheers then.” He raised his glass and clicked it with mine, taking a sip from his. I just gave him a little smile not wanting to take a sip of the drink. “Why aren’t you drinking? You know when you give a cheer you take a sip of the drink.” He came closer to me and yelled so I could hear him better over the loud music. I laughed awkwardly and took a small sip of the drink, hoping that after this he would leave me alone.

“Thank you for the drink, but I have to go to my friends.” I tried to be as polite as possible, but he held me by the shoulder before I had the chance to leave.

“Oh, please at least finish your drink with me here and then I promise if you still find me annoying, I won’t bother you again.” His tone was pleading. “I promise, I’m not some bad guy, I just think you are very beautiful, and I want to talk with you.” I gave him a doubtful look at first and then sighed and nodded. Maybe I was wrong and judging too fast, he might be a good guy after all. I planned to finish the drink fast so I could go back to Nami and the guys. Ace would be there soon, he might be already there as well, and I wanted to speak and congratulate him.

The guy whose name I didn’t catch because of the music started to talk and I was nodding the entire time while sipping on the drink. He asked me questions like if I had a boyfriend and who I was here with to which I answered quick. I finished with the drink and tried to excuse myself, but he stopped me again.

“Please, am I such a bad company? Just give me five more minutes.” At this point I felt bad as I didn’t want to be rude, I was simply not interested in him. I nodded and promised myself it was the last five minutes I was giving him.

I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it was crowded with people around the bar or the sudden quickened heartbeat, but a heatwave hit me out of nowhere. I started to wave my hand in front of my face trying to get some cold air in my face.

“Hey, are you okay?” The guy asked me with concern written over his face. I tried to speak but nothing came out. “Do you want to go outside? You seemed to need some fresh air.” He didn’t even wait for my response as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and started to walk me through the crowed.

“N-no, s-stop.” I tried to protest but my words were stumbling. My mouth became extremely dry, and I have never felt such thirst in my life. “I-I want-t to g-go... m-y f-friends... A-Ace...” I tried to push the guy away, but he only tightened his grip around me. I turned my head at the direction where the VIP section was supposed to be, but my vision started to get blurry as I was losing my focus.

“Shh, it’s okay I will get you back to your friends.” The guy said. “We just going to have some fun first.” He whispered in my ear. My mind barely processed what he said the only thing I could feel was the cold air hitting my face and body. Everything around me was blurred and my body felt numb. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might explode any second now. The feeling of something bad that was about to happen took over me, but I couldn’t fight or say something. All I could feel right now was confusion and dizziness. With every taken step the numbness in my body was growing. At some point I lost track of time. I heard a voice which sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t recognise whose it was. I only felt being let go off as the guy no longer had his arms wrapped around me and I had to keep my own balance. Keeping my eyes open became impossible, I just felt being pulled into something before darkness took over me.

After the guys were done with the performance Ace left the stage first. The only thing he wanted to do right now was to take a smoke and be in some quite place for a few minutes. The good thing was that behind the club’s stage was a door which was leading to the back entrance to an empty alley. His hands were shaking a bit from the adrenalin he felt while on stage as he opened a new pack of cigarettes.

‘The set went well, it could have been better, but it went well.’ Ace was thinking to himself while lighting up a cigarette. He took a long puff of it, closing his eyes and leaning on the wall. There were a few good things that happened tonight – first the performance went well, which was something he was rarely satisfied with; second was the fact that he didn’t get any narcolepsy attack during it, as this was something that always bothered him, especially tonight. They have never performed around so many people. The max so far had been hundred something, but tonight there were almost five hundred people, which was five times more than usual. And third – (Y/N) was there. She was their all dolled up, watching him perform. Ace wondered if she liked the performance. He glanced at her a few times while he was singing, and he saw her having fun singing along with the rest of the group. Last time he saw her was like a month ago or so, he wasn’t sure. He thought that it was going to be enough time to get rid of the effect she had on him, but he was wrong. Not like she ever escaped his mind during that time. Especially after she called him crying yesterday, and the urge that took over him to do something to make her feel better. The thought of her being in distress about something let alone crying was making him feel so uncomfortable and bothered. He hated that feeling. He never felt like that toward anyone, any girl before, and he couldn’t explain to himself why he was feeling this way towards her.

Three cigarettes later, Ace took a deep breath and went back inside. He quickly made his way towards the section Luffy and the rest of his bandmates were now. Everyone cheered when they saw him and Luffy went to high five his brother.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me about the album?” He yelled at him and Sabo.

“We wanted to be surprised for everyone.” Sabo explained. Koala was wrapped in his arms, and he pulled her even closer to him. Ace snorted and looked around. Everyone was there except (Y/N).

“Yo, Luffy.” Ace grabbed Luffy by the shoulder pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. “Where is (Y/N)?” Luffy smirked as he heard his brother asking for her. He might have been dumb, but Luffy wasn’t blind. These two might deny anything but something was obviously happening between them. He was about to joke with Ace when he realised he hasn’t seen her in a while.

“Nami.” Luffy yelled grabbing Nami’s attention. She came closer to them with a questioning look. “Have you seen (Y/N)?” Luffy asked her as he thought she might know where (Y/N) went. Nami’s eyes widen as she looked at her phone, noticing that it has been at least thirty minutes since you have gone to the bathroom.

“She said she was going to the toilet, but it has been at least half an hour.” Nami said and looked a little concerned at Ace and Luffy. “I will go and look for her.” She tried to pass between them two, but Ace stopped her.

“You are drunk. Stay here, I will go look for her.” Ace sighed. “Also don’t you girls go together to the toilets?” He chuckled at Nami before turning away.

“Ace.” Luffy called after him. “Should I come with you?” The place was big it would be easier if they both searcher for her, but Ace waved his hand dismissively, knowing that it wouldn’t take him long to find you.

He went to look straight to the toilets, maybe there was a long queue. Of course, he couldn’t get in the ladies’ bathroom, but he stopped some girls that were going out of it, asking if they saw her by describing how she looked. None of them have seen anyone described as you inside so he just thanked them and left the bathroom’s hall. He doubted that you would be on the dancefloor, especially alone. Ace made his way to the bar, observing everywhere and everyone carefully to see if he could spot you. His height was in advantage to him but still no luck. He sighed annoyed but also concern started to build up in him. What if something happened to you? You wouldn’t left without telling anyone. He stayed on one spot for a second with his hands place on his hips as he was slowly looking around. His eyes glanced at the entrance/exit hall when for a brief second just before disappearing behind the wall there, something silver and sparkling caught his eye. Ace decided to follow his gut and quickly started to walk towards the hall. He had to push his way a little harder around people as his instinct was telling him that something was not oaky.

When he finally made his way outside it took him a second to spot her and for his blood to started boiling. She was almost a street away, but he could recognise her even if she was standing miles away. His hands tightened into fists and jaw clenched when he saw some guy dragging her with him with his filthy hands roaming all over her body. Ace waisted no more seconds and ran towards her and the man catching up with them in no time.

“If I were you, I would let her go.” His voice was as sharp as knife. Now that he was this close to them, taking look at (Y/N)’s almost numb body and seeing the disorientation in her eyes which she was barley keeping open, he was ready to kill the guy on the spot.

“Fuck off, man. She is little tipsy that is all.” The guy spat at Ace.

The things that unfollowed after were so fast, if someone was looking and if they blinked, they could have missed what happened. The moment these words left the guy’s mouth Ace stopped thinking, he just started to punch. The guy didn’t even have the time to react when Ace landed his first punch on his face, breaking his jaw and making the guy let her go as he couldn’t bare the ache he felt. But Ace didn’t stop there as he landed another punch on the guy’s face. Bringing him on the ground as he stared to lend punch after punch.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such rage, he wasn’t just seeing red, Ace wasn’t seeing at all. This had only happened once before, and it was when Luffy came all beaten up and stabbed under his eyes after school one day when he was twelve. Both, Ace and Sabo found the guy who did that to their little brother and gave him a good lesson. If it wasn’t for Sabo to pull Ace back that time, he was probably going to kill the guy. Instead, he left him almost disabled, for which Ace was sued to pay him indemnification for ten years in a roll. But this time Sabo wasn’t there, no one was. The guy’s face was deformed at this point until he heard (Y/N)’s voice. He stopped immediately and looked at her. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her eyes were barely open. Ace jumped on his feet as fast as he could just on time to catch her before she hit the ground.

“No, no, no, doll.” He gently tapped her cheek, trying to wake her up. His knuckles were covered in blood. Kneeling with her on the ground while holding her body, Ace pulled out his phone and dialled emergency. The moment they picked up he explained the situation and gave the address. The ambulance was supposed to come any minute now. Ace could hear someone running behind him. He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Luffy and Zoro running towards him with the security as well.

“A-Ace...” Luffy’s eyes widen at the sight in front of him. “What happened?” Everyone was stunned. No one knew what to say or do at the scene in front of them. Even Luffy and Zoro who had many street fights behind their backs had never saw such brutal view. One of the club’s guards even threw up when he looked at the guy’s face who was laying on the ground coughing blood.

“This piece of shit drugged her.” Ace spat still furious. “This is what happened.” He looked at his brother in the eyes.

“We need to call the police and you sir will be in trouble.” Said the other security as he pulled up his phone, but it was snatched quickly from his hand and crushed on the ground by Zoro.

“You take your weak friend, and you walk off, before you follow this guy’s fate, okay?” Zoro’s voice was deep, his eyes were filled with warning for the guards to just walk off and let them deal with the situation. “You better go and keep the wandering eyes away.” He nodded with his head towards the direction of the club where people started to gather with wondering eyes. The security decided to listen to Zoro and quickly went back to the club. The ambulance siren could be heard coming from around the corner.

“Luffy.” Ace said as he got up on his feet with (Y/N) in his arms. “Call Shanks.”

Shanks came out of the hospital room and looked at Ace with stern eyes. He drew in a deep breath before he sighed.

“Thank you, Ace.” He said as he patted Ace on the shoulder.

“How is she?” Ace asked, his voice low. He looked at the window from which he could see (Y/N) laying on the hospital bed.

“She will be okay once they clean her blood. Do you know how it happened?” Shanks glanced at Ace as he was rubbing his temples.

“No, no one knows. I just went looking for her, as the last thing she said to someone was to Nami that she was going to the toilet.” Ace said not moving his eyes from (Y/N). It pained him seeing her in such state. And he was mad at his brother’s friends. How could neither of the girls go with her? Why did she go alone in a first place? How she even ended up drugged by this guy? Didn’t she know to not accept drinks from strangers? Ace was mad at her as well. Because if he didn’t catch the glimpse of her sparkling skirt in that second before she left the club, he didn’t want to think of the things that could of happen to her. His fist clenched, he should have killed that man right there on the spot. Instead, he was still breathing somewhere, and the broken jaw and nose wasn’t enough for a payback.

“Ace.” Shanks called out his name, taking him out of his thoughts. “You can go home. I’m here so she is safe.” Ace side-eyed Shanks not moving from his spot. “And don’t worry no case will be open or anyone would find out that you beat this piece of shit up. I have taken care of it.” This was the last thing Ace was worried about right now.

“Still into the shady business, Shanks?” Ace snorted turning his head to look at Shanks.

“You are not the one to speak.” Shanks bit back.

“I’ve been clean for the past two years now.” Ace’s voice was filled with mockery.

“Ha, you have always been ballsy Ace, but don’t push your luck.” Shanks came closer to Ace. Their height being the same, they looked at the other with too much ego and pride. “Look, Ace. You are not a bad kid, and you know I like you and I would cover for you no matter what...” Shanks took a step back as he didn’t want to fight with Ace as he meant it when he said that he liked Ace as a person. He knew the kid for a long time, and he had a lot of good qualities. “But she is my niece, and you are a player. Whatever is going between you two you better cut it before you get her heartbroken.”

“Nothing is happening, Shanks.” Ace responded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m not leaving until she wakes up.” This was the last thing Ace said to Shanks as he turned to face the window again. He was tired but he wasn’t going to leave until (Y/N) opened her pretty eyes.

“You are as stubborn as he was...” Shanks knew how these words would affect Ace. He saw the way his jaw clenched, and his muscles flexed under his shirt, but Ace didn’t say anything. Instead, he ignored him, pretending like he heard nothing. Pretending like he didn’t know who Shanks was comparing him to.

END NOTE: I hope you guys liked the chapter and if you did feel free to leave your comments about how it made you feel as I was a little afraid how this chapter might unfold and if this type of stuffs are okay with you to read. I promise there will be no more such 'drugged' scenario, but I can guarantee you that everything that I write has logic behind it for the upcoming events in the story. I also thought it was time for Reader to realise her feelings for Ace, and the whole cake part came up so unexpectedly in my mind I really hope you enjoyed it ♡ Like, comment or reblog if you liked it, and as always A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO READ IT ♡

writing, format & dividers © eand47 fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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prettynice8 · 1 year ago

Text

Kinkmas Day 1: Rimming

Paring: Kakashi Hatake x male reader

This guy

Warnings: Rimming DUH, anal fingering, teasing, slight begging, little bottom twinky fuck me daddy feminine male reader, no actual sex, enemies to lovers? I think that's it

Word Count: 1,307

Fuck him. Fuck his pretty silver hair that I just want to run my hands through while he eats my ass, his muscular form that must have been crafted by the sage of six paths himself, his beautiful attention catching eye, his mysterious mask, his (what I hope is) insanely large dick. Just fuck the whole thing (I wish).

Of course, the only person you could be thinking of is the one and only Kakashi Hatake, copy ninja of the leaf, and the hottest mother fucker to ever exist. Oh god did you have an obsession with him. Having wet dream after wet dream about him, screaming his name while masturbating, and it doesn't help that you catch him staring at you all the time almost as much as he catches you staring at him.

This whole obsession started a month ago when you saw him reading one of his goddamn sex books in the middle of the street. You walked over to him and asked why he was reading erotica in a VERY public place, and he just looked at you "Because it's hot." he stated matter-of-factly. The nerve of some people, from then on you two would see each other walking around, say hi, go your respective ways. It's been that way ever since; stolen glances and fuck me eyes since.

Until now. You were done with man after man not fulfilling you like you think he may be able to, maybe, it's a complete guess but he just gives off the vibe. Anyway, you saw him reading his demented sex shit again when you decided to make your fantasies a reality once and for all. You walk behind the bench he was sitting on and read the words on the page and HOLY SHIT IT'S GAY RIMMING. You mentally scream into the pillow like a 15-year-old girl who just found out her crush is available, which is kind of like what's going on.

"Uhm, can I help you?" Kakashi questions in his horny inducing voice, with a little annoyance sprinkled in through all the underwear wetting.

"Oh sorry, am I disturbing a public jack off sesh." You coldly state with a smirk on your face, hand doing a little masturbation gesture.

"Do you mind." he says rhetorically, the twinge of annoyance from earlier much more noticeable now.

"If you didn't want someone to talk to you then why are you reading 'that' on a public bench in the middle of the street again?" you sassily question.

"Because I wanted to read outside, privately." He answers, you look at him like he's the dumbest man in the whole world.

"Then why, in the absolute fuck, are you reading in the street you attention whore." you rhetorically ask, the previous sass now developed into genuine frustration as you walk around the bench to be right in front of him.

"That's cute coming from you." he chuckles.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you ask.

"Don't act dumb, you have been trying to get into my pants for weeks now." he exclaims, you start to blush, ensuring that what he said is true.

"Don't act so high and mighty with me. I've seen you look at me too bitch." you state. He stands up, his large frame completely dwarfing you, his eyes almost angry. You do a cartoonish and audible gulp, the fear enhancing the horniness.

It's quiet for a while until he leans down,

"And what of it" he whispers in your ear and grabs you ass tightly, not caring if anyone sees. You let out a soft yelp at the sudden sign of attraction. You're completely stunned, not knowing what to do. He realizes this and before you can think any more, he holds you close and grabs your ass tighter and whispers,

"My place." It wasn't even a question or a request, it was a demand. One that even given the choice you wouldn't say no to.

Before you know it you're already on your way to Kakashi's place. He's giving you a piggyback ride to save time, and because he wants that juicy cake as quickly as possible, his mind is going crazy with your legs wrapping around him.

Finally, you make it to his place and immediately you both rush into his room. Right when you both enter you get off his back and onto the bed. Your legs spread as he takes off both your pants and underwear and tosses them both to the side.

"Now, turn around and bend over." already making demands and he hasn't even bought you dinner yet, not that you care because without a single moment of hesitation you are already on your hands and knees.

Without warning he immediately put his long skilled digit into your readily awaiting hole. He moves slowly as he starts to open you up. All the while you let out quiet moans.

"Your little moans are so cute." he said. Suddenly you feel a second finger enter you. He stays at the same excruciatingly slow pace. While he's pumping his fingers, he starts to feel the rest of your ass, rubbing it sensually and squeezing at the sensitive skin.

He puts in the third finger and his speed starts to pick up. Now your moans start to get louder as his three fingers stay at a steady and quick speed. He pumps them in and out over and over with precise repetition.

his fingers start to curl inside you, twisting and turning inside you perfectly. It's at this point that you are officially a moaning mess. The all too familiar feeling churns into your stomach. His fingers start turning and hitting your sweet spot consistently.

Then the feeling of relief washes over you as his fingers twist and hit your spot for the final time. You let out a loud moan and crash into the bed, cumming without even him putting his dick in you.

But he wasn't satisfied with just feeling inside you as he picked you up and brought you to your hands and knees again.

"Not yet sweetheart." he says as he starts to rub and massage your ass cheeks, caressing them to his desire. He gives you a quick and sharp spank, you cry out in pleasure from the surprise as he watches you ass jiggle in awe.

He puts his mask down and licks your ass, putting small and harmless love bites from time to time. Each lick and bite getting closer and closer to your hole. You start begging him to just devour you already. "Please, god I've fantasized about this please." you cry out, wanting, no, craving for his tongue.

"Well since you asked so nicely." he calmly states, though you can tell the excitement in his voice, aware that he wants this too. He licks lines on your cheek until FINALLY taking small licks on your entrance. Your spine chills in anticipation and pleasure and your breathing becomes shaky.

He licks languid circles on your entrance slowly. His hands are still caressing the rest of your ass. Your legs are shaking due to the stimulation and your cock is as hard as can be. He stops his simple licking and finally puts his tongue in your ass.

It starts off slowly but develops quickly into a fast pace, his tongue going in and out of you. You are now officially a moaning mess as his tongue is assaulting your hole. He continues this and then starts to put his fingers back in your hole while his mouth is still doing its job.

The familiar feeling in your stomach starts to build up again as his talented hands and mouth works on your asshole. Your moans crescendo until finally you climax for the second time of the night.

And you're not done yet.

THE END

#naruto #naruto x reader smut #naruto x reader #naruto x male reader #naruto x male reader smut #x reader #x male reader #anime x reader #x male reader smut #x reader smut #anime x reader smut #anime x male reader smut #kakashi #kakashi smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x male reader smut #kakashi x male reader #kakashi x reader smut

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vidavalor · 3 months ago

Note

Hey there :) I love your metas and would like to know why you think they decided to show satan as an actual being, but not god? Or do you think we will see god in the final episode?

Hi there! 💕Thank you & very interesting questions. *rubs hands together* This'll be fun. I know God is big on reminding people to not avoid salads but I also have chocolate cake so we can have a bit of both, yeah? *gets plates*

To answer your questions, I've got to share some ideas about The Voice of God that I've had lately that I think could come about in The Finale. If it winds up anything like this, it might not just change how we see God in the series but also completely upend our understanding of the novel at the same time...

So, throughout Good Omens the tv series so far, we've had what appears to be three beings who are the ones in charge of Heaven and Hell: The Metatron, Satan, and, kind of out here in her own world a bit, God. The Metatron claims to be the spokesperson for God but that is in doubt in a lot of people's minds, my own included. I think he's a fraud who cannot speak to God and whose power is dependent upon the angels believing that he can. I'm pretty sure that The Finale will see the main characters challenge him on this and expose his deception, leading them to be able to overthrow him and create a better system in Heaven.

Satan and The Metatron are dependent upon one another for power so if one of them goes down, they both do. Exposing The Metatron would cause the angels to realize that God didn't judge the demons-- The Metatron did. This would mean that the angels and demons would realize that they're all just angels and that they are on the same side against both The Metatron and Satan. I'm pretty sure that's why those two villains were working together to get rid of Aziraphale and Crowley in The Final 15 and want Gabriel dead-- they don't want the angels and demons to talk to one another long enough to figure it out and start a revolution.

So, let's say that all of that is close to (or is) accurate and we get to a point in The Finale when we find out that Heaven is a sham and The Metatron can't talk to God. This then brings up a big question that the characters in Good Omens aren't really seen asking a lot but that will suddenly be as big to these angels as it is to us humans:

Does God exist?

We might think we already know the answer to this, right? Of course she does! She's the ball of light that sounds like Frances McDormand! She's narrated S1 for us and she's talked to Crowley and Aziraphale and Job! When you ask if I think we'll see God in the finale, this is the being that you're probably asking about, right? The God we listened to who narrated S1 to us was crazy about humanity, yes? You'd think she'd want to participate since, as God, she'd know that would be what living really is. Does she, as you ask, have a body? Is she a living being? We might think she really does exist because we've heard what she sounds like but I think we might not quite yet have the full picture on that, as you'll see...

We can see what they're doing with The Metatron and Satan more clearly right now, I think. These two are two sides of an evil coin. Heaven and Hell are equally terrible. Neither has any sense of individuality, boundaries, or bodily autonomy. They are full of toxic, harmful ideas and are inflicting horrific abuse on the angels and demons. How they are presented to us as beings also reflects those horrors.

The Metatron is the only supernatural character in the story who does not have a full human corporation. He is just a floating head and that is the, well, pardon the pun, but the most meta thing in this story imaginable. He presents himself as above the other angels and nearer to God by virtue of the fact that he just needs a head to get around and doesn't deal with having a human body. His presentation is saying to the other angels that they couldn't ever possibly live up to his standards of holiness because they might all be magical but they have bodies, which are, by definition, unholy. They aren't supposed to feel or need anything that requires a body and what's extra fun for them is that everything does so the angels are made to feel like they cannot win from the get-go.

Fuck it up and wind up in Hell? Now, you are evil and belong to Satan for eternity. Violence, torture and assault from which there is no escape awaits you. I'd argue that while Satan is an actual being, as you put it, because he was an angel before, that we might not have actually seen that true form yet.

In 1.01, he attacks Crowley while being basically vapor and using the voice of Freddie Mercury. (That's definitely the most bizarre-sounding sentence I've written this week lol.) In 1.06, he is coming to claim Adam and Adam is told by Crowley and Aziraphale right before that this is what's about to happen so I think that Satan appeared as Adam would think The Devil would look like. He was eleven at the time, so, a giant, angry, horned, red devil cliche beast that sounded like Benedict Cumberbatch was probably about accurate. Satan has so far appeared not necessarily as himself but as whatever being might be most torturous to the person he's showing up to or whatever being might meet his end goals-- which is how he is appearing as The Metatron With A Body in 2.06. He's coming to tempt Aziraphale to Hell and Aziraphale would only ever think the offer genuine if he thought it was coming from The Metatron so that's who Satan made himself appear to be.

Both Heaven and Hell are, as Crowley puts it in 2.06, toxic.

But when you bring The Voice of God into this, things start to really interesting.

While it's not hard to see both Satan and The Metatron as evil, God is a little more difficult. This is some of the basis of the theory that The Metatron cannot communicate with God. One of the things that makes the theory have weight is that it's very difficult to see this God that is narrating the story to us in S1 as someone who would actually be behind the atrocities that Heaven claims are her will.

I think most of us like The Voice of God. She is very sharp, very dry-witted, and she's curious about people. She clearly loves all her beings. She really doesn't seem like a vengeful God that could be behind drowning people or casting all these demons to Hell or wanting to murder a laundry list of living beings around Job. The God we heard in S1? She wouldn't believe that Job's children belonged to Job in the first place, let alone want to kill any kids, let alone to do so only to win a bet with Satan.

There's a moment in S1 that I think solidifies that The Voice of God isn't a villain and that's when Crowley arrives at Tadfield Manor with baby Adam. God's narration introduces to us the baby swap plot about to go down by telling us (paraphrased) that it's helpful to understand that events in human history do not happen as a result of people being good or bad but just as a result of people being people. When she says this, Crowley is participating in the misunderstandings of the scene, alongside the humans in it, and God is counting him among the people of which she is speaking.

That's basically the moment that it becomes impossible to see The Voice of God as a villain because here she is, seeing Crowley as human. Here she is, narrating his and Aziraphale's story, and we the audience, for much of S1, really want to tell Crowley and Aziraphale that she is, right? If anything, this is the one thing we're angry with her about...

When Crowley is talking to God alone in his flat and not getting any response, we're angry at the God we also like because we know that she loves Crowley but he doesn't feel that and is suffering. We want her to tell him. We want her to be more clear with Aziraphale, too, after just appearing outside Eden. Even still, though, she's likable in her narration and seems separate from The Metatron and Satan.

There is the feeling that, if The Voice of God is God, that she believes that the universe is the dominion of her creations and that she cannot interfere because to do so would be to force them all to follow her will. She doesn't want to rob her creations of their free will. There is no plan from God but for them to all be free. This would make her a just god and go along with her narration so it allows us to be understanding about the fact that she cannot actually talk that much to her creations directly or stop any terrible things from happening-- because it's up to them to do so, not her.

That may all well be true but, as we will see, there might be some evidence that The Voice of God might have a more complicated identity than we might originally have thought.

If the main characters overthrow The Metatron and Satan in The Finale, it's going to be as a result of the characters talking and realizing that none of them-- including Gabriel and the archangels-- have ever spoken to God. As a result, they will all know that they don't know how to reach her.

They've only ever reported to The Metatron. God didn't even turn up for Gabriel's trial-- a big deal in Heaven, since he was The Supreme Archangel. All of this will lead them to the realization that The Metatron is a fraud but these characters are angels. They believe that they were made by the God they haven't ever actually interacted with entirely for the purpose of serving that God.

When they find out that The Metatron cannot contact God, they're all going to be wondering if God exists and it might be here that we'd think that Crowley and Aziraphale might share their experiences of hearing The Voice of God, yes?

Except...

...think about those known experiences for a moment...

The Voice of God has only appeared (key word: appeared) to speak to three characters: Aziraphale, Crowley and Job. In the first scene we see in which she speaks to a character, it's to Aziraphale, when he is alone outside the wall of Eden, right?

In this moment, Aziraphale has just rebelled more than he probably ever has before. He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword and helped Crowley get out of Eden and now, here he is, standing outside the walls of Eden, having escaped himself and both thrilled and terrified to start a journey of exploring the Earth. He's been having an internal crisis as to whether or not he did the right thing. He knows that he did by his own moral compass but it's all very much against how Heaven works and he's unsure what it is that the God he believes made him and whom he serves actually wants him to do.

This is the exact moment when The Voice of God appears and has a short little chat with him about it-- dryly dubbing him "The Angel of The Eastern Gate" and asking him what he did with the flaming sword. This scene is fun because we all figure that, if this is God, surely she knows what Aziraphale did with the sword, but we get to watch as he lies straight to her ball of light. We think that she approves because nothing ever happens to Aziraphale as a result of this.

However, there's no real proof in this scene that The Voice of God was ever actually talking to Aziraphale. Aziraphale is the only other character in the scene and one could theorize that he has imagined God talking to him more than God actually talking to him.

We tend to never question the fact that, while God doesn't seem to be talking to anyone else in the story in S1, that she does briefly talk to Aziraphale. This makes sense to us because Aziraphale's role in Eden was a big deal in the whole series of events on Earth and we already feel like God feels that Aziraphale and Crowley are important because she's narrating their story. Not only do they appear to have been chosen to be in Eden to help jumpstart human life on Earth but they're important enough in everything for God to be telling us their story as she chats with us. Because they're our main characters we don't see anything off about God seeing them as main characters, too.

We actually use Eden in our minds as some of the foremost proof that God exists in Good Omens. These angels act like she must and Aziraphale's spoken with her so it must be true, yes?

Except... what if it's not?

What if Aziraphale was having a crisis of faith in Eden and basically imagined speaking with God?

What if The Voice of God isn't The Voice of Actual God (if God even exists) but rather The Voice of God in Aziraphale's Head?

We've never seen any proof that any of the angels or eventual demons have ever actually spoken with God, including prior to the creation of Earth. We assume that God is real because they all talk like she is but we've never been shown any concrete proof that they aren't all just believing they work for someone they've never met.

But, wait, you might say, what about Crowley and Job hearing her in the Job minisode, right? Isn't that proof?

Well... that's a bit suspect, too, and I'll show you why. It's largely hinted at in the sound mixing and context of that scene.

Like Aziraphale was outside the wall in Eden, Job was a man of faith in the midst of a massive crisis when we saw him. He and Sitis had been weathering what they believed was the wrath of God. Job's whole world was under siege and his children were in danger and his wife was begging him to go ask God for answers. When Crowley and Aziraphale come up on Job appearing to speak with God, several things are contextually important that suggest that this isn't quite what it appears to be.

Diluting the visuals is that, in this scene, the post-storm, dawn sun is starting to come through the clouds a bit, much in the way it was after the storm clouds of Eden were clearing when God appeared to Aziraphale in Eden. Job was under the light, praying and appearing to be communicating with God. Crowley and Aziraphale stop far back from Job and, when we're near them, we cannot hear God clearly. The key is in the sound mixing in this scene. When we're near Crowley and Aziraphale, God sounds like she's speaking in a wind tunnel ten miles away. We can catch snippets of words on the breeze but there's nothing tangible there. It would have been literally impossible for Crowley and Aziraphale to hear a single, complete sentence of any of this... and, based on what Job tells Sitis afterwards, he doesn't hear it, either. To add to this, Crowley is unreliable where this scene is concerned because, when it happens, he's drunk enough that we're shown him having trouble walking.

These two were drunk on food and wine in the midst of having moral crisis and watched a man pray under stormy, dawning daylight a half-mile away and think that, maybe, he might have been talking to God. That's it.

Job was in a state of madness and thinks he heard his own Voice of God when asked what happened the next day by Sitis. Crowley and Aziraphale think, from what they can see, that God really is talking to Job-- but they're so far back that they cannot hear basically anything that she's saying. They are both different kinds of intoxicated and likely seeing light and sound from the dwindling storm/emerging daybreak highlighting a man experiencing a kind of religious ecstasy and taking that for possible truth.

We hear her accurately when the camera gets closer to Job... but this all influenced by Aziraphale remembering these events as he reads them in his Bible in the bookshop, so the real is overlapping in this moment with the Biblical account... and it's also clear that Job doesn't remember much of anything he thinks that she said. He returns the next morning and tells Sitis that it was all too wonderful for him to comprehend and something something whales and ostriches. Basically, Job went a bit bonkers and convinced himself that he heard God and she was going on about different animals.

So, look at what we're saying here...

...if Job cannot remember what God said and Crowley and Aziraphale didn't hear it because they heard sounds on the wind and Crowley was drunk and Aziraphale thinks God had spoken to him before but was, that night, only speaking to Job... then from where, in the Good Omens universe, did the Job passage that is supposedly what God said to Job and was recorded in The Bible actually originate?

Who wrote it?

Who is the real Voice of God, when it comes to the Job passage and, likely, in general?

Who wrote the line that prompted Aziraphale to think back on the Job minisode in the first place-- the one that was the only thing which Gabriel could remember at first?

You know why this is all Gabriel can remember and why he looks awfully distraught at the recollection of it? Because Gabriel doubts the existence of God. He's been The Supreme Archangel for thousands of years and she's never spoken to him and The Metatron's a total bastard and God didn't even show up when Gabriel was thrown out of Heaven. What has he been clinging to all these years regarding her existence and his own sense of what the right path to take is? He's been clinging to the bit in The Bible that detailed what it was that God apparently said to Job.

Gabriel not only clings to this as proof of God's existence but he clings to it as proof that he is right to think what he does. Gabriel's own moral compass is at odds with The Metatron and Heaven, just like Crowley and Aziraphale's is. He is The Supreme Archangel of Heaven but he doesn't believe that the demons are all evil and beneath the angels. He actively works to keep angels and demons alike from The Metatron and Satan finding out that they are talking to one another. He wants to believe that God is not a villain and that she approves of this mentality and, as proof that she does, Gabriel clings to the line from Job where God told Job wistfully that she was there "when the morning stars sang together and all the Angels of God shouted for joy." He sees this as God supporting his mindset that the angels and demons are all angels of God and to mistreat the demons is wrong.

But... if The Voice of God is The Voice of God in Aziraphale's Head, then when we hear Frances McDormand, we're hearing Aziraphale.

When it came time to write what it was that God said to Job, though, it was Crowley and/or Aziraphale who actually wrote the passage below, which is why it sounds so much like how they view things:

Job, you've got questions for me? I've got questions *for you.* Do you know how I created the Earth? Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth, Job? Were you there when all the morning stars sang together and all the Angels of God shouted for joy? Do you know the rules of the Heavens? Did you set the constellations in the sky? Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you? Did you give wings to peacocks, Job, or teach the ostrich to run?

What is credited to God here are actually things that Crowley and Aziraphale did, as suggested by the Before the Beginning scene, when we see that Aziraphale was involved in the creation of Earth and Crowley designed the stars. The line to which Gabriel clings is one that God didn't say-- Crowley and/or Aziraphale wrote it, explaining Crowley's hesitation when he says to Aziraphale: "your, ah, boss... said that to Job" in response to Gabriel quoting it, as well as what it is that Aziraphale wants to talk about when he says "Crowley" upon finishing reading the bit of The Bible recounting the Job minisode-- most of which was actually written by he and Crowley.

Ok, so, if The Voice of God is really more like Aziraphale's Voice of God? This explains a few things...

It explains why we haven't heard Frances McDormand's voice speaking to any other beings besides Aziraphale and ones who are otherwise unreliable. The only being who reliably hears her is Aziraphale and that's because she is how he imagines The Voice of God. She is the one that lives is in his head and talks to him.

It also explains why her conversation with Aziraphale in Eden opens the 1.03 Cold Open and why the two instances where she shows up to Aziraphale are both very early on chronologically in Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship. It's showing that Aziraphale's Inner Voice of God is something that is always within him-- because she is him-- but that hearing The Voice of God in his head was something that was probably happening with more frequency in the earlier part of Aziraphale's story-- back when he was more on his own for long stretches of time and before he had Crowley more frequently in his life to talk with about how he felt about things.

Interestingly, the last scene of the Job minisode begins with Aziraphale sitting under the sun/light of God alone, afraid that he's about to fall, echoing some of the scene outside the wall at Eden... but ends with the shot of Crowley sitting with him, after supporting him and their mutual admittance that they're both lonely without the other. The Voice of God can be seen as something of a feature of Aziraphale's loneliness but maybe he has those conversations with her/himself less frequently from the Job minisode on because both his perspective on Heaven/Hell has changed and, just as importantly, he has Crowley to talk to.

After all, remember how we said that she showed up as Aziraphale was having a whole inner crisis in Eden? The same was true in the Job minisode. Not only was Aziraphale having a whole moral dilemma over what to do about Job's kids when he apparently hears The Voice of God speaking to Job but he's just recently seen Crowley again and they are basically on a little date.

Aziraphale, in the hours prior to hearing God in the Job minisode, has just tried food for the first time-- a lot of food lol-- and is flirting his way closer to sex. He's literally taking a romantic walk with his demon love when Frances McDormand cameos so the possibility that, while he's having a very nice night, he's also internally having a bit of an ox ribs and lust guilt delusional freakout seems kind of high.

So, now, think about what else happens if Frances McDormand's Voice of God is Aziraphale's inner Voice of God... Gabriel has some scenes in S2 that could be seen as playing around with this a bit.

The first is Aziraphale bringing up the concept of an author when talking with Gabriel about the book organization project. While there is humor in the fact that Gabriel can't remember what an author is-- how could he when he can't fully remember who he is?--- there's also something else at play here, too.

Gabriel's idea for how to organize the books sounds balmy but it's secretly kind of brilliant-- especially when taken as a metaphor for how to view people. Gabriel can't be bothered with categories, genres, types, labels, or titles. All he's interested in is the first letter of the first sentence on the first page of every book. While we're laughing at this because we know that he's going to end up with most of the books just clumped together under a few sections like the one we see him spending time in-- the "I" section, full of "it's" and "I" beginnings of books-- that's also the point.

We have more in common than meets the eye and Gabriel is insightful enough to bypass the labels we put on others and ourselves and just get to the common origin stories and experiences. Aziraphale asks if his plan is to sort the books alphabetically by author and Gabriel says he is by the first letter of the first sentence-- ironically, Gabriel is sorting by author, really, but he's matching up authors based on what they've written, not by their similar names.

Why this matters is because we now have this scene between Gabriel and Aziraphale where the concept of an author is in play. Gabriel can't remember what the word means but his project is based around what is actually a really deep understanding of one. At the same time, Aziraphale knows what the humans refer to as an author but is struggling to claim authorship of his own life. The word author was also at the core of this struggle for him in S1 when he prayed for help in stopping Armageddon. What was it that Aziraphale said he was looking to reach when he prayed?

"A higher authority."

Aziraphale was looking to reach God or anyone with the power to stop Armageddon and his efforts to find someone else to be that higher authority were unsuccessful and that is because we are all the authors of our own lives.

We are God.

Aziraphale is his own higher authority. He is the author of his own plan-- his own life.

And, if The Voice of God in the series that we hear is really Aziraphale?

Then look at that moment when Gabriel pulled a book off the shelf of the bookshop-- one without a title or an author, though someone has written it-- and it turned out to be one with which we're very familiar:

As Gabriel works on his book organization project, we get this trippy moment when he opens up and reads from the first page of a copy of a book that we all know as Good Omens. There is evidence that this is different from just the "lol Aziraphale is a Doctor Who fan" joke elsewhere in the season. This Clue comes in the shot showing us the book itself from multiple angles in Gabriel's hands-- and the fact that the cover is not the same as our copies of the book. It is a red clothbound hardcover with no dust jacket and no visible title or author printed anywhere on it.

The show has already established that Terry Pratchett and that other guy exist in the Good Omens universe because their solo books are visible at different points in the series. When it establishes that the novel Good Omens exists within the Good Omens universe, though, it does so only by establishing that the text of book we know does. The title of it is not visible and neither are any evidence of its authors in our world, despite their existence in this fictional one.

Moreover, by showing us the first page of what we know to be the Good Omens novel, they're showing us a part of the book that we've already heard before, near its beginning. This bit highlighted on the screen to us-- the opening sentence and first, full paragraph of the novel-- were God's narration over the end of the Eden scene in the first episode. Most of the narration of The Voice of God in S1, as we know, is taken from passages of the Good Omens novel and the show establishes in S2 with this Gabriel scene that the text of Good Omens exists in an unmarked book in Aziraphale's bookshop.

I think it's all saying pretty emphatically that Good Omens, in the Good Omens universe, was written by Aziraphale.

The only way that works then is if the voice we've been hearing both read this book to us and seeming to speak to Aziraphale is of Aziraphale's own creation, which would then mean that Frances McDormand is also, essentially, playing Aziraphale. She is just what God sounds like in Aziraphale's head. She is what Aziraphale imagines God to be. She is, effectively, Aziraphale.

This then suddenly makes everything about God's narration make a lot more sense, right? God's love of humanity and her interest in behavioral science and her cheeky, dry-as-a-bone humor is all very Aziraphale. God's love of Crowley and the way that she approves of him and Aziraphale's relationship and sees them as people like her other beings is what Aziraphale believes would be true of the loving God that he believes in and is fundamentally true of how he views their relationship and Crowley himself. God's ability to speak Crowley and Aziraphale's language and the novel being written in it becomes less that God can do so because she's God and more because she's really just Aziraphale.

The whole novel itself takes on quite a different perspective if you look at it as the book above that Gabriel found when he was organizing the books. The one that, as of S2, it was too dangerous to have labeled at all but that we can theorize was written by Aziraphale and is wrapped up and bound in Crowley's signature color and that color of love-- red.

The book we know as Good Omens is, in the Good Omens universe, a book that Aziraphale wrote for Crowley in which they are two of the characters.

This is, more than anything else we've seen so far, the real book of life.

I think that it's saying that if you were to finish the series and find this to be true, you could then go pick up the novel again and read it as if Aziraphale wrote it, with the narrative passages maybe in his Voice of God Frances McDormand voice but with the knowledge that The Voice of God is really Aziraphale himself.

I love this idea because it means that the tv series that keeps giving us more information that reframes our prior understanding of things might wind up ending with a twist where the nature of The Voice of God in the series is such that it won't even just make rewatching the show a extra fun (although it will) but it'll make it so that you'll be able to go all the way back and read the novel in a different way as well, now with the perspective that Aziraphale is meant to be its author.

This also would be fun because it'd then be viewing the tv series as the canon and the book as what Aziraphale wrote happened and any discrepancies and changes as Aziraphale's writing choices. It means you get to read the passages in the book that are descriptive of Crowley or of he and Aziraphale together from the viewpoint that Aziraphale wrote them, which honestly makes them even funnier.

This would mean that God, as she's been presented to us so far in the series, is an actual being because she's Aziraphale and that we will see her in the finale because she's been a part of our main character all along.

So... there's then just one question left... and it's the same one we had earlier on in the meta:

Does God exist?

If The Voice of God is Aziraphale's inner Voice of God then is the story going to suggest that a real God does exist or is it going to suggest that she doesn't or is that going to be left as an open question?

There are a couple of paths that they could take-- two that I can see and likely some I haven't.

One is Agnes Nutter. I know a lot of people have theories that she's actually God. They could suggest or imply that a bit. In some ways, they might already have done so, as others have suggested.

The other path is the one that I think they might take, though, regardless of what they do or don't suggest with Agnes, which is to leave it so that Aziraphale is The Voice of Frances McDormand God and it's an open question as to whether or not an actual God exists.

The reason why I think it's that path that they're going to take is that Good Omens has a lot of themes around recognizing and claiming personal power and living to your own moral code. It's also very much aligning these supernatural beings in its story with the humans in it and it might just be the writer in me but I think it would be a stronger ending to have the angels and demons wondering just as much as the humans if God exists than it would be to definitively give an answer.

They're all going to know that The Ineffable/Great/Divine Plan in the sense that Heaven was saying existed for eons doesn't exist but the angels and demons will be left wondering along with the humans if they have a creator and if that creator made them for any particular reasons... just like how we wonder those things, too.

As much as the story is a religious satire, it's also a romance, and I can't see an ending of this story doing much to say that Crowley is wrong for his romantic notions that he and Aziraphale were made for each other. It's probably going to just leave the existence of God as an open question.

The story is already going to provide the characters with some much-needed peace from the fact that they'll know that what they endured was a judgement of The Metatron and not God. That and the resulting more peaceful system in Heaven will allow Crowley and Aziraphale to go live their life together without as much fear and they will do that. They might be able to put a name and a title on that book and own the authorship of their story. Even if some might label it as fiction, Gabriel, at least, sees it as belonging alongside the other, human-penned books on the I shelf in the bookshop, and he won't be the only one by the end of the story.

Not knowing then if God exists at all will yield just as many questions... but, if they had all the answers, where would be the sense of wonder in that? It will certainly give them some things to talk about for eternity together. 😊

#good omens #good omens meta #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #god good omens #the voice of god #the archangel fucking gabriel #a conversation with owls #good omens eden

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wandixx · 4 months ago

Note

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

#sorry if i misunderstood the reference i haven’t seen star wars #thank yoh so much for the prompt #it was so much fun to write! i had been stuck on an angst lately and this was so nice to work on #mgann and the curious case of disappearing cities #that's the tag when I'll continue if i won't do it in the reblogs #i have no idea why they would disappear but if you want a goofy story #i think it'd be something around some guy™️ seeing political shit on tv and saying something like #'Dang it I wishnwe lived in Switzerland or something'#unfortunately they were in Desiree's earshot #let me know if you want something more dramatic though #ill come up with something else #spearmint ship #danny fenton/m'gann m'orzz #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #wandixx writes #wandixx answers #rest of the prompts will be filled soon #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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thevillainswhore · 2 years ago

Text

Perverse Desires

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Assigned an undercover mission, you’re partnered up with the bane of your existence, Bucky, to pay a visit to a s-ex club. What could go wrong?

Warnings: Smut (s-ex club, oral f receiving, f-ingering, nipple play, voyeruism, exhibitionism, degradation)

A/N: unbeta’d, dividers by saradika

Um, idk where this came from tbh, enjoy tho x

“Are you sure I’m the right person for this, Cap?”

The mission brief Steve handed over to you had stunned you in all honesty. You had been on numerous undercover missions for the team in the past, so there was no doubt in your mind or anyone else’s that you were capable for the job. It was your speciality - having a knack for being precise with discrete sufficiency and perfect timing to be able to get in and get out without making a fuss. But, this was totally new, even for you.

“Agent, I have no concern whether you’re fit for this job. I know it’s… different.” Steve clears his throat and you know this is as awkward for him as it is for you. “But, you were highly recommended and you have a- um, how d-do I say this? You, er-“

Tony interrupts Steve’s rambling from his seat in the corner of the office you were all situated in, decidingly having enough of watching his co-worker stumble from embarrassment.

“What Captain prude is trying to say, sweetheart, is that you have the right look for the job - great features, killer body - y’know? You’ll draw the target out no problem.” He finishes his explanation by throwing a wink paired with a smug smirk at Steve’s flushed cheeks.

“Yes. Thank you, Tony.” The grimace on Steve’s face has you desperate to laugh at his unease, but you manage to keep it in, eager to get out of this office soon as possible. “Your skills and experience are also compatible with the nature of this mission, Agent - it’s imperative we don’t mess this up.”

Skimming over the mission brief once more, you take in the role you have to play. An exclusive member of a popular underground sex club that’s been flagged up by Fury for suspicion of covering up a huge drug ring. Target ‘Antonio Maxwell’ - the leader the Avengers were looking to take down. While it wasn’t a world-ending level threat, the new drug allegedly supplied by Maxwell had already implemented significant damage and a high number of mysterious death cases to those in contact with him, concerning enough for higher ups to ask for help with this.

That’s where you came in.

You had enough background knowledge of ring leaders and crime bosses to call point on this - having worked undercover multiple times in this specific area over your years as an agent. Knowing how men like this worked and their strategies to cover their tracks was your forte. This would be a piece of cake for you. Yeah, the sex club element was a new challenge for you, but you were up for it.

“Okay boys. I’m in.”

Pleased hums and mumbled chatter from Steve and Tony as they finished up the paperwork with your agreement faded to the distance as you read till the bottom of the page of the brief - a new detail you must have missed before catching your eye and making you frown in confusion. Lifting your gaze to the men, you question the two of them one more time.

“Um- guys, it says here I’ll be working with a partner? Can I ask who it is?”

And just as Steve and Tony throw each other a worried look that has your eyes growing wide with realisation, you hear the door click open, a tall, beefy figure joining the room to announce his presence.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Sorry I’m late Punk, what did’ya need?”

Bucky Barnes.

“Y’know you don’t have to look so happy to see me dollface, I know how much you love spending time with me.”

Hell didn’t have shit on this.

Barnes is the literal bane of your existence. Constantly a pain in your ass since he had nothing better to do with his days than annoy you. Avenger you may not be, but the amount of time you still have to spend around him is ridiculous. Training, gym, drills. He just seems to be in your presence 24/7 and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was doing it on purpose. His teasing and childish remarks at your capability to do your job always has you biting your tongue around him. Frustration leading you to walk away from what you were previously doing, or causing you to snap in anger and scream at him in front of the other recruits - smug smile plastered over the bastard’s face knowing he’d won, yet again.

Bucky was unbearable.

You are also possibly the only one in the entire Shield initiative, who hadn’t fallen for his charm or swooned over him - women and men actually falling over their feet just at the sight of him - never mind what they did to actually have a scrap of his attention.

Sickening.

And so you believe it’s because of this reason, Barnes has made it his business to make sure every day is torture for you. His fragile masculinity unable to comprehend that you’re just not into him. Not desperate enough to whittle your entire being to admiring him.

Even if he did have them ocean blue eyes you occasionally got lost in.

Where the hell did that come from?

“Just because we’re paired together Barnes, doesn’t mean we have to speak - let’s just get this mission done with and go back home. Sooner this is over the better.”

Bucky’s mock gasp at your scolding only boils your blood hotter.

“Okay, first of all, ouch, I thought we were friends, baby.” His low chuckle and his pet names have you fighting the war going on between your cunt and your head.

“And second of all, we kinda have to talk. It’s part of the mission - the whole sex crazed relationship we got going on to be exclusive members of the club, remember? Silly bunny, I know your head gets a little fuzzy sometimes, but catch up dollface, you’re slacking.”

Okay, that shouldn’t be making my panties wet.

Huffing a frustrated sigh and ignoring his efforts to rile you up, you snatch the mission brief out of the compartment of the car and place it over your legs to read it over one more time before reaching your destination. Not giving Bucky the satisfaction of seeing your thighs rub together to stop the ache in your pussy and the butterflies in your stomach.

“There’s a good girl.”

Fuck.

The tacky neon signs and the disco lights of the bar you arrive at almost give you a headache worse than Barnes did on a bad day - you know this is a front to their downstairs adult party.

Stepping out of the car in your knee high leather boots is a task, but you make it look effortless as you smoothly swing your legs round and stand up, shuffling your tight, mini black dress down to cover as much of your ass as possible. Your outfit had to match the vibe of the character you were playing and you didn’t sell her short.

Bucky, however, got the better end of the stick in his full black suit. Top three buttons of his shirt undone to reveal his broad chest with a smattering of hair.

Stupid fucking Barnes and his stupid, slutty chest.

Closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath to calm your headspace for the mission, you fail to notice the silent ex-assassin creep up beside you and whisper in your ear, “Last minute nerves, dollface?”.

Your eyes open wide in shock at the feel of his breath against your neck, goosebumps running down your arms and you push down the urge to shiver. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, do you mind? A bit of personal space would be nice please”, turning your head towards Bucky, you realise too late how close he is to you, noses almost bumping together as his intense gaze pins you to your spot.

“Can’t start getting all jumpy on me now, baby bunny. Thought you were good at your job.”

You can nearly feel the motion of his lips moving as he speaks. How easy it would be to just move that tiny bit closer to finally know if they’re as soft and plump as they look.

You’re better than this, he’s making you look weak - that’s his plan.

Your leather heels click as you walk away from him, tearing your body out of danger and berating yourself for acting just like those back at the compound, the lovesick recruits who put Bucky Barnes on a pedestal. You would not be like them. Not in a million years.

You don’t see Bucky cock his head as he watches your hips sway side to side, but you definitely hear his low whistle in reference to your ass - his grunt of laughter following soon after when you stick your middle finger up over your shoulder at him.

Security protocol of the club doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the tech department handling your fake identity documents with the utmost care to ensure there would be no issues.

Now, you stood at the ominous red door at the end of the hallway, about to be let into the most prestigious sex club known. You couldn’t say you were totally ready, the natural fear of the unknown rattling your psyche. Yet, you didn’t let it show. Face stoic with a subtle sultry undertone to enhance your allure.

Bucky’s coded knocks on the door echoes through the hallway, his cold metal hand snaking over your waist and squeezing the meat of your hip. If the door hadn't opened as quick you would have stomped on his foot.

Would of served the fucker right.

And soon enough, with a private spoken password, only sent to the invited elite, you were in.

Holy. Fuck.

Had Bucky not kept his arm around your waist you would have fell flat on your ass.

Everywhere you looked had your heart beat erratically speeding up. Cocks. Tits. Pussys. All of it was on show without a care in the world. Threesomes, gangbangs, doms and subs. Any sexual position or kink your mind could conjure up was playing out in front of you - the glow of the red strobe lights highlighting the sweat, spit and cum covering numerous naked bodies.

The music blasting over the speakers had no chance of silencing the high pitched moans and needy whimpers of pleasure. Whips smacking against skin and leather cuffs clinking against railings - you didn’t know how to process your senses going haywire.

“What’s a matter, dollface? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen a cock before.”

You don’t think you could have suppressed the tingles shooting through your nerves at Bucky’s use of the word ‘cock’, the image already engraved in your mind of you squirming in his hold as he tells you his filthy thoughts.

Bitch, now is not the time.

Right, you had a mission to complete and you couldn’t fuck this up.

“Shut the fuck up Barnes. We didn’t come here to fuck around and argue, so you scour the left side of the room and I’ll take the right - if you see Maxwell then communicate through the coms.” Without listening to what would without a doubt be another jab at you from Bucky, you stepped away and left him alone, praying that a moment away from him would clear your head.

It had been at least an hour of searching, still no sign of Maxwell or at least any type of drug dealings you could snap a picture of for evidence. The ache ever present in your feet from the six inch leather boots. You had scoured the entirety of your side, ignoring the clapping of wet skin and grunts of feral men. You just needed a minute to rethink your strategy and come up with a new plan - something worthy enough to draw Maxwell out of his hiding spot for the night.

Stepping into the nearest open plan room, you lean against the wall and rub your temples in an attempt to get your brain flowing. Not noticing the growing crowd gathering to watch the spectacle on the sofa in the middle of the room. You really hadn’t paid attention to the man laying a woman down and spreading her legs for everyone to get a good view, too preoccupied with your own situation.

It only registered what was happening when you heard the first breathy whine of a woman, slowly lifting your head to witness a man licking her pussy in languid strokes, thumbs holding her folds open to suck her clit.

Shit, this is really happening.

It also occurred to you that the woman kind of looked like you - same hair colour and body type, enough to have you imagining it was you in her position.

You swallowed the growing knot in your throat, the arousal pooling in your lacy underwear creating a sticky mess. Chest heaving up and down as the scene before you had your breaths coming in heavier.

What the fuck am I doing?

You had never counted yourself as a voyeurist. You most definitely were not inexperienced and had experimented plenty in the bedroom with partners, but this was a total new sensation for you. Watching someone else bask in the pleasure their partner was bringing them, legs trembling uncontrollably. It was really doing it for you.

Without permission, you found yourself stepping closer, greedy to be just that tiny bit nearer to the main event. Your mouth stayed open as you placed your hands on both of your arms, licking your lips with raw need.

As you got a closer look at the man, you took in his mid length brunette hair, tied up in a bun at the back of his head. He had a broad stocky build, beefy and probably big enough to tower over you should he stand up. Wait…

He looks like Bucky.

You shifted on the balls of your feet at your new epiphany, shaking in anticipation on whether to stay and watch or leave.

Surely it couldn’t hurt to watch a little, right?

Bucky was growing fed up with the lack of leads on his hunt for information. No sightings of drugs and no clue where the leader of the drug ring was. He guesses you were still searching on your end too, a silent line on his com alerting him you’d found nothing as well.

He should probably go check to see how you’re doing.

While Bucky knows how irritated he makes you, it wasn’t his intention to make you dislike him, believe it or not. In fact, he had the biggest crush on you and just didn’t know how to deal with it. It’s true he really is used to most people gawking in lust over him and the endless invitations to go out for a drink. So when he first observed your blatant disregard for him, it sent him into a frenzy, powerless to his instant attraction for you. He was desperate to get a reaction out of you, even if it had you wanting to pummel him into the ground.

You’re cute when you’re angry, sue him.

And he’s not stupid enough to not comprehend the tension between you, you’re just unwilling to give in - don’t want the shame of contradicting yourself and falling for him like the rest of them.

Silly little bunny, you’d give in soon enough.

So imagine his surprise when he silently walks into the next room to find you there, hand trembling against your neck as you watch a man sloppily eat a woman’s pussy, teeth biting your lower lip to stop any noise from coming out of your mouth.

His naughty little minx, getting off by watching other people fuck. He was impressed.

Bucky wouldn’t have pegged you as a little voyeur. He can’t say he’s disappointed though.

It’s times like this where Bucky praises his super hearing from the serum, low chatter from the upper floor has him pulled out of his thoughts of you and sneaking a glance up to see a middle aged man leaning over the open plan railing and looking directly out at you. Maxwell.

Fuck, he was onto you.

Options speed through Bucky's head as he quickly concocts a plan to kill two birds with one stone. Throwing the target off your scent and getting to have some fun with you.

Time to play, babydoll.

Glued to the scene in front of you, your surroundings blur, mission forgotten as you focus on the sounds of the woman’s sloppy wet cunt, obscene squelching from the man’s thick fingers that fuck her pussy and her juices spraying out.

All the more reason for the loud gasp that escapes you as a cold hard hand wraps around your throat and drags you back into a firm chest, the whir of fingers squeezing the sides to slightly cut off your airway. Warm breath tickling the curve of your neck as electricity shoots through your body.

“Who’d have thought a stuck up little bitch like you enjoys something as dirty as this, huh?”

Shit.

“You’re a filthy fuckin’ slut, you know that baby? Y’know how disgusting you are getting off on this?” You can’t help crossing your legs to try and create some friction to ease the ache in your cunt and the needy whimpers that echo across the room even with Bucky's hand choking you - blending with the slick noise of the woman’s wet pussy on the sofa.

You weren't banking on your mission partner catching you in the devious act, anxiety bleeding over you as he finds out how shameless you are and how much you want him.

A large number of the growing crowd have turned to watch the display of you and Bucky. Humiliation washing over you from his degradation and how exposed you feel.

Bucky hadn’t felt this horny for as long as he could remember, his hard cock straining against his trousers over how much he’s enjoying turning you to putty in his hands for everyone to see.

You’re mine, little bunny. Even if everyone can see the dumb fucked out mess I’ve reduced you to.

“C’mon dollface, you’re normally so feisty, where’s them claws you like to scratch me with, kitten?”

His condescending words only cease to turn you into a bigger puddle, unable to get your words out without moaning or stuttering, “B-bucky, p-please.”

Even though Bucky wants to hold out longer, he can’t help but bring his other arm up from his firm hold on your waist up to your tits, toying with your peaked nippes over your dress.

Somehow, the little shit knew they were sensitive.

His grip on your throat moves up to hold your jaw, making sure you’re still watching the other couple play as he tweaks your nippes, rubbing his thumb over them and squeezing your tits. He fucking loved it. The broken moans you no longer care to keep down break free as drool drips down your chin.

You didn't think you could like being spoken to the way Bucky does, his harsh words but soothing tone has your head fuzzy and your mind empty, no coherent thoughts other than the man behind you.

Your ass rubs back onto Bucky’s crotch as you squirm in his hold, the throaty rumble he lets out only worsening the throb of your cunt.

“Y’know they kinda look like us don’t ya think, bunny baby? Is that what has you so fuckin’ gone, huh? You wanna know how good I’d eat your pretty little pussy?” He starts to grind his cock into the curve of your ass, the thin material of your dress leaving no guesses to how thick he really is.

It’s helpless as your head flops back onto Bucky's shoulder, boneless in his arms. You’ve forgotten about everyone else in the room with you, only enough room in your head to process who’s making you feel so good.

The tingling of your swollen clit has you wailing needy moans, the lack of stimulation edging you and forcing tears from your eyes.

“Oh dollface, you’re crying now? You need me to make all those tingles go away?”

You couldn’t nod your head fast enough, dragging his hand to place it over your soaked panties under your dress with pleas whispered against his neck. He’d punish you for that in normal circumstances, but right now he really wants to see you cum.

His warm fingers gently start rubbing your pulsing clit, the added friction of your lace underwear making your eyes roll to the back of your head and high pitched whimpers to fill the room. Gyrating your hips to follow his motion, you can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter, so close to that release you’re internally begging for.

“You’re so fuckin’ desperate, bunny, my cocks rock fuckin’ solid for ya, bet you could take this fat cock in your tight little cunt.”

You can feel the brink of your orgasm on the precipice from his words, his Brooklyn accent spilling through as he continues to rub his huge cock against your back.

But it’s the switch from rubbing to repeatedly tapping your bundle of nerves as he licks the trail of sweat from your neck to groan in your ear that makes you finally let go.

“Now, fuckin’ cum for me before I leave your pathetic ass begging for me.”

Your legs give out as you suck lungfuls of air back in, eyes cross eyed as you see stars from how powerful your orgasm is. You don’t think you’ve ever cum that hard before in your life, and you’d crawl to Bucky on all fours to beg for it again.

Eventually, your high slowly descends and you come back down to earth, body limp but twitching with spasms. Should you even try to take a step forward you know you’d fall flat on your face, so you're grateful for Bucky keeping a tight embrace around you and cooing shushes into your ear as you muster a fucked out smile on your face.

You don’t care to see if anyone’s still around, if the couple that turned you on and got you into this state in the first place are still going at it.

Bucky, however, takes a peak back up to Maxwell, knowing he’d watched the whole show and his worries had been reassured by your brazen display that you weren’t suspicious. He catches the back of his coat, walking down the steps and into a back room.

The smirk grows back on his face as he takes one hand away from your body, your whine of displeasure all the more satisfying for what comes next, he won’t be able to see your face but that’s okay - he’s more than happy to feel your reaction instead.

Sucking his fingers from your juices that are still running down your leg, he presses the button on the com to send an update on status to backup and Steve.

“Target's position secured. Distraction followed through and on route to prepare for arrest, over.”

Your eyes rip open from your hazy daydream as you soak in Bucky’s update to the rest of the team. Blood running cold when it finally processes his motive for your little show.

“My my little bunny, I gotta say I’m impressed you folded so easily for lil’ old me.” Bucky’s murmur against your head vibrates through your entire being, but you can’t bring yourself to move an inch.

His chuckle has fury bubbling up to the surface, yet you’re speechless as he leaves a gentle kiss to your temple and departs with his final words.

“Didn’t know you were a squirter either, doll. I had fun, looking forward to the next time too. But let’s go catch Maxwell for now, yeah? I’ll even keep hush of your unprofessionalism on the job.”

You can only stare as he strolls towards the back room where you can only assume Maxwell is, whistling a tune to himself as he tucks his hands in his pockets, uncaring to the salacious acts of sex still occurring around you.

You’re so fucked.

A/N: I have to thank my angel baby @rookthorne for the inspiration in writing this after one of our little domme sessions 👀 loves you so much kotenok 💗 thank you for reading lovelies!!

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twistedbloodstain · 2 years ago

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marquis de gramont x assistant!reader: i breathe flames each time i talk | love’s not supposed to be easy.

plot: the one where he has you but at what cost?

warnings: kidnapping, coercion, dubious consent, guys this has went for a dark turn :(, none of them gets any peace

masterlist

shards of glass fly through the wall behind him, vincent bites his tongue from cursing, a slightly frustrated frown slowly making its way to his face. he stops himself from visibly sighing or showing any sign of his genuine worry over another expensive irreplaceable vase broken on the floor.

instead, he worries about the best possible way to diffuse the situation in front of him.

which is you.

you, who he is irrevocably in love with. the person he wants most more than anything in this world, you’re the sweet heaven placed on this earth that was meant to be cherished by him, you who gave him the captivating feeling of affection.

you taught him to know what it was like to find a piece of himself he’s yearned for in years, a part that he denied to have existed in fear of being weak and vulnerable oh but no, you make him feel the other way around. when he feels your presence and grace, he feels like salvation and strength has entered the room itself.

you make him feel safe, in a way. he feels at peace when he’s with you. all his heedless ambition stood no chance against having you in his life the moment you almost died for him in that fateful night. he felt the need to immediately shelter you from the cruel world, he wouldn’t offer the universe a chance to take you away from him ever again. vincent swore he would cherish you, make every second of your life a sweet memory for the rest of your lives together. he took you to keep you safe and happy, he swears even if you don’t realize that you need it.

which is why what faces him, hurts him as much as it hurts you.

you’re standing at least a few meters away from him next to the table filled with saccharine fruits and decorated cakes, your form shaking from fear. earlier you had just grabbed the nearest vase and threw it at him the second he stepped into the room to join you for a quick snack. tears were already slipping down your cheeks as small sobs escaped your lips, the soft satin gray dress wrapped around your body made you look like a goddess on earth. it was the first thing that entered his mind before he noticed the projectile being flung to his face, thankfully he managed to dodge it in time and the vase smashed into the wall behind him.

he doesn’t know why this is happening.

or maybe he does. vincent is not a blind man to the truth, he does not relish in the bliss ignorance offers. he thinks anyone who enjoys that form of bliss is a coward who refuses to deal with reality. after all, if you’re dealing with a rather difficult predicament you wish to resolve, you need to face the hard truths and all plausible cards at hand. ignorance cannot play a part into it.

but when he looks at you, he realizes why people place themselves into that situation. he asks the same questions and pretends he doesn't know why you’ve thrown vases at him, why your tears only seem to drip when he’s in the room for the past two weeks. all truths he spurns to know.

“my love? what’s wrong?” he begins, vincent takes a step forward and reaches his hand out to you, a shard cracks as it was crushed under the weight of his foot, you eye him warily and instantly flinch to step back.

“no. stay away from me.” you scream. “don’t come any closer.”

“you know i can’t even if i wanted to.” he whispers looking into your eyes, he doesn’t listen to your words and takes a step closer. it makes things worse as another sob leaves your body.

“don’t bullshit me! in all my years i’ve worked with you, i know if you wanted to, you would.” you reply, “you just won’t try hard enough!”

“why do you find it so hard to accept?” he questions, frustration getting the better of him. he walks straight to you, startled by his sudden movements, you stammer on your feet but he gets to you quick, he grips your arms and holds you close.

“mon amour, every man on this earth could attempt to pry you away from me but i would burn this world to the ground if it meant i could return to you. i want you, i love you.” he confesses.

probably for the 20th time of the week.

“stop. stop it.” you struggle in his grip as more tears collect on your face.

“why? you have no reason to refuse me-“

“you kidnapped me! you took me from my home and locked me into your estate, i can’t even move a single finger without the guards or the maids reporting everything i do!” you struggled.

“all to keep you safe, there are people out there who want you dead. i am protecting you, mon amour.” he reasons.

“i don’t want it, i want to go home.” you beg. this is what the both of you go through everyday, sometimes it occurs during meal times like right now, but more often than not it happens the moment he comes forward to greet you a “good morning” in bed or before the both of you get ready to sleep at night.

he prefers to deal with you like this when you’re both in the confinements of his bedroom, it’s much easier to lull you with his sweet words and hold you because for a minute or two you don’t twist against and grip but rather lean into it. you don’t spit out those incomprehensible thoughts of leaving him or begging for him to let you go.

he would rather die than lose you.

“please…vincent just let me go. i want to go home, you have to let me go.” you plead, you’re now holding his wrists close up to your body. in a different scenario, he would’ve been fucking delighted to have this, to have you touch him with such softness but your words do the opposite effect as the idea of being without you sink into his sick head.

vincent takes control of his hands and brings your palms up to his lips, placing a soft kiss. he watches your reaction slowly, tears weren’t as present as it was before on your face, he likes it when you look calm it reminds him of the days the both of you spent together as boss and employee. serenity was always a good look on you.

“you are home, you’re right where you need to be…with me.” he states, “what i have to give you, my love…it shouldn’t trap you. it’s meant to make you feel the same way you make me feel but i can’t love you if you won’t help yourself.”

“if you would just let me love you, you’ll see.”

your face contorts back to your former anguish. teardrops begin falling down again but you don’t fight to get away from him, his arms snake behind your waist as he guides you into an embrace with him.

no matter how big of a fit you throw or how expensive of a vase you fling at him, this is how it always ends. for the two weeks you’ve spent here, hopefully you’ve realized that there is no force in this world strong enough to separate you from him. not even your tears and not even you.

you fold the velvety blanket in a slow but precise movement, your gaze locked on the person asleep on the other side of the room, suddenly hearing a loud roar of thunder crack outside your vision redirects to the large window. you hold your breath in fear of the storm abruptly waking him, thankfully it doesn’t happen and you stop mid-chore to trudge your way to the window so you could shut the curtains.

“everything is okay.” you shakily whisper to yourself.

your voice betrays you with that statement, you keep telling yourself that everything is alright, that you should be grateful that he isn’t cruel to you, that even in your rebellious and distasteful behavior for the past year he still showers you in finery and love.

it’s been awhile since you’ve thrown a fit at him.

you took some of his words into your behavior ever since your last squabble, you tell yourself that what he has to offer is good. that maybe you’re in the wrong in this one, so for the past months no matter how much you want to resist, you don’t swat his hand away when he touches you, you don’t shove him away when he holds you and you keep your head in place when he kisses you to please him.

and god it certainly did. he already seemed to glimmer brighter when he took you back to his estate but when you stopped shoving him away, his presence was impalpable, he looked like was a king that finally had his queen.

but you? oh dear.

all your reevaluation for your mindset did seem to work, there were moments when you enjoyed being with him. the late night dinners and touches that sometimes make your heartbeat a little too fast for your liking, his sweet words that move you which makes you think that it was too good to be true sometimes it makes you forget that he’s keeping you here against your own will.

oh.

it’s moments like these that make you stay still and cling to your fucking sanity, you want to get out of here. you do, but how? you are isolated in his home, no one in the staff treats you the same anymore they don’t listen to you unless you have a simple request. you have no one but the marquis, who is the last person that probably wants to hear about your desire to get out of here. your days are filled with him and only him, from the moment you wake up in bed he’s beside you, either in slumber or kissing you for the morning. you see him for meals three times a day until the sun sinks into the horizon where he makes love to you in the shadow of moonlight. not to mention the gallery viewing, watching operas and other superficial shit he likes.

you have no ally in here.

your form shakes and you cling to the table beside you, you want to leave so bad but every time you come up with an idea to leave it seems impossible. your former escape route has been rendered useless, you tried that the moment the marquis left you alone for the first time and it was barred shut with a guard stationed nearby. soon the marquis found out, he was livid and kept you locked in your room for a few days.

any chance of escape is hopeless even if you have no reason to want to stay here.

the storm brewing outside roars another loud burst of thunder, much louder than the previous one, the rain outside begins to shower even stronger. a cry erupts from the other side of the room and you sigh. you stare at the crib at the corner, a lamplight illuminating the dim room, you take a deep breath to compose yourself and make your way towards him.

your son.

with him.

it still makes you sick thinking about it.

you lift him into your arms and he immediately snuggles into your neck, his chubby arms slightly flailing around to feel your warmth. you shush him to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to soothe him. thankfully, his cries instantly die down and mumbles gibberish, slowly falling back to slumber. you found out you were pregnant around the time, you threw the vase at him. you felt frustrated and trapped, because how could this happen to you?

you hold him tight, and softly swaddle him around to calm him even more. you know the saying “if there’s a will, there’s a way.”, well you had so much of that if it weren’t for the child you brought out into this world you would’ve been insistent on getting out of here. you love your son, you do. but you find it so hard to go on when the weight of a child is pulling you down from what you want.

this is the only reason why you were willing to try being with him. as if things weren’t hopeless enough for you, maybe things shouldn’t be so bad for your child. after all, vincent was quite cheerful when he found out.

you press a soft kiss to his head, whispering a gentle affirmation before tucking him back into his crib.

pushing the door to enter the inside, you reluctantly walk in. you’ve done this several times before, yet when you do it, it still doesn’t feel natural. the room was dim, little illuminessence was present and the light from your bed lamp was the only thing keep things seen.

you walk towards the bedpost and something inside you makes you stop, a figure moves beneath the satin sheets and you hold your breath. he opens his eyes and sees you, confusion staining his expression. he immediately sits up and urges you forward.

“cherie? is something wrong?” vincent murmurs, his voice still hoarse from sleep. you don’t say anything but instead you abandon the bedpost and sit on the foot of the bed. you give him an empty stare and he stays quiet awaiting your reply.

“the storm woke him up.” you reply.

“oh? i’ll call for the nanny.”

“don’t. i already put him back to sleep.” you mutter.

“then what seems to be the problem?” he raises his eyebrows.

you eye him like he grew a second head, matter of fact he might as well have with what he did to you.

“how-“ you start but a cry leaves your throat. tears begin to gather on your eyes, vincent alarmed with your state leans forward, “how could you do this to me?”

“what do you mean, my love?” he asks puzzled.

“what do i mean? i meant how could you do this to me!” your voice gets louder but not loud enough to be yelling, the rain outside pours even harder.

“a year ago, i was just your assistant dealing with your meetings and setting your finery. you wouldn’t have even spared me a single glance unless you wanted a chef from monaco to cook you dinner considering i wasn’t significant enough to be known by you. i have to admit working for you was frightening but it was okay. i was alright with that.” you sob.

“this again.” he sighs.

“now, you locked me up here. a few months ago i was pregnant with your kid. mind you, even if you won’t say it i know you never wanted children. do you know how stupid this looks? how irrational and insensible this all seems? i’ve always known you to be cruel but this…this is torture. you’re playing house with my life like it’s some sick game” you reason not giving him a chance to speak.

“going through all these lengths because something in your sick head is telling you that you’re in love with me, acting like you wouldn’t discard me the moment you find me unworthy of your attention. ” you finish. he stays quiet from your little rant, dare you say a bit shocked. truth be told, it had been a while since you did this.

“what do you want me to do? tell me what to do, so i can make it better.” he demands, “i want you to be happy. i dislike seeing you miserable like this when you should be having the happiest time of your life. recently, we just had a child-“

“then let me go.” you cut him off, scooting closer to his side of the bed. you reach for his hands and he lets you, even when the expression on his face seems bitter.

“let me go home. i don’t want to be here, i feel trapped. at some point, you know that i don’t want you the same way you claim to want me. i don’t love you, i don’t think i can even if i tried my best. you need to let me leave, vincent.” you beg with all your heart.

vincent stays silent and wipes the tears on your face. he leans forward in resignation and delicately grazes his hand on your jaw making you look into him.

“my love. i don’t care how long it takes to make you realize that my feelings are genuine, that my acts aren’t based on flights of fancy, i’d spend the rest of my life proving it to you with a few more children around. you need to understand that i’m never letting you go, because i would simply die.” he whispers.

“you are mine. i am yours. not even you can deny that, you belong to me and i, you. you are my love, i am too far gone to lose you. how many people are lucky enough to say that?”

he kisses you after that, his lips softly envelop yours and it shocks you but the feeling and taste are so familiar to you know. you don’t get the chance to say anything in return as you feel his hand dancing around your nightgown, you could feel it slowly slipping down. vincent’s hand dances around your skin, going through your curves that he’s felt before.

“and this is alright with you?” you mumble as he guides you to your back, pressing kisses on your neck.

“what is?” he pauses slightly looking up at you before continuing to leave a mark on your neck.

“that i’ll never want you…ever.” you trace your palm up to his jaw, caressing it while giving the poisonous blow.

this makes him halt all his movements and looks into you as if you’re serious. you might be.

“then i’ll have to simply have to live with it. love is never supposed to be easy.” he chuckles before kissing you again.

author’s note: this was short but enjoyed it lots bc there’s drama hehe. assistant!reader getting her licks before he goes down on her was a last minute thing…anyways if you were expecting peace and hugs from this fic hell to the nah i want angst. marquis is relentless afff. thanks for reading and pls like and reblog :)) also send some of ur requests!!

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ginxyy · 3 months ago

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Whispers between pages

Coffee, books, jealousy and confessions with Joshua

There’s something undeniably magical about the way the world seems to transform when I’m with Joshua. It’s as if the air hums with possibilities, and ordinary moments become tinged with colors I never knew existed. It had been a few months since we’d confessed our feelings, each day feeling like a chapter added to a wonderful story. Today, we were on our way to our favorite café, a tucked-away little nook where the aroma of fresh coffee intermingled with the sweet scent of baked pastries. I smiled to myself, already savoring the thought of sharing a slice of chocolate cake with him.

As we entered the café, the laugh of patrons filled my ears, creating a melody that felt just right, setting the stage for another beautiful day together. Joshua’s presence next to me was warm and comforting, his casual aura that of effortless confidence, and it made my heart flutter like the pages of a fresh novel awaiting to be discovered. We settled at our usual table by the window, the sunlight spilling golden rays across our faces, illuminating the soft smiles that danced on our lips.

We ordered our drinks my usual caramel latte and his black coffee, strong and bold with hints of sweetness. As we sipped our beverages, we talked and teased each other, slipping into our whimsical banter like two old friends still comfortable in their shared silence. He laughed, his voice deep and velvety, coaxing warmth from the very marrow of my bones.

After our sugary indulgence, it was time for my favorite part of the day nestling into the local bookstore down the street. The shop was a quaint haven lined with spine after spine of adventures yet to be lived. We wandered through aisles piled high with volumes, lost in the scent of ink and paper, almost like stepping into another realm where nothing else mattered except our shared love for stories.

One particular book caught my eye, a cover adorned with watercolor flowers that seemed to whisper secrets of love and longing. As I picked it up, I felt Joshua's warmth beside me, but soon, he excused himself, a playful glint in his eye.

“I’ll be right back. Just hold tight.” He winked before walking away, leaving me in the sanctuary of words and tales a part of me curious about what he was up to.

As I stood there, absorbed in the pages, I didn’t notice the tall, bespectacled guy who worked in the store slide quietly beside me, his presence startling me from my literary reverie.

“Beautiful choice,” he commented, gesturing at the book in my hand. "This one explores love in the most touching way. I think you’ll really—”

Before he could finish, I found myself feeling a touch self-conscious. “Oh, thanks! I’m just—”

But my words trailed off into the air as I laughed lightly, and my cheeks warmed when the stranger began to explain the plot intricately. He was charming in an animated way that drew me into a flow of conversation, but just then, I caught a glimpse of Joshua’s return, a familiar determination blazing in his eyes.

The flash of his expression sent a shiver of unexpected protectiveness through me, and before I knew it, Joshua was right beside us, sliding an arm possessively around my waist, effectively breaking the spell the bookstore guy had cast. His presence was a barrier, strong and unwavering, as he shot a glare that could probably make the very walls of the bookstore tremble.

“Hey! Sorry I took too long,” he said, his tone a little too cheerful, a bit tight, and the tension in his voice made my heart race. “You ready to go?”

“Uh, not yet,” I replied, a tad thrown off by the protective vibe that oozed off him. “We were just talking about—”

“He’s done talking,” Joshua interrupted, eyeing the guy without any pretense of politeness, the jealousy coursing through him palpable. “Let’s go.”

A silence stretched between us, and as much as I understood Joshua’s instincts to be protective, a small part of me couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mixed with exasperation. Was I just a puppy for him to protect? Already, my heart ached for clarity while Matthew trailed off, trying to disappear amidst the aisles.

Once we were safely outside the confines of the bookstore, Joshua stilled, his shoulders tense, and he leaned against the wall, feigning indifference as he crossed his arms against his chest. I could tell he was sulky, irritation pooling in his gaze like dark thunderheads. But something stirred inside me, a longing to reach out and bridge the gap that had formed.

“Joshua.” I stepped closer, until there was merely an inch between us. I could feel the heat radiating from him, a silent storm brewing just beneath the surface. “Hey, it’s okay,” I murmured, my voice soft but steady. “I only have eyes for you, you know that, right?”

His gaze softened slightly, yet the shadows in his expression still hung heavier than the late afternoon sun. “I just—I don’t like it when other guys look at my girl,” he admitted, his vulnerability disarming me completely.

I tilted my head slightly, my heart racing as anticipation surged inside me. “And I love you,” I whispered, feeling the weight of my confession settle into the space between us. The moment felt suspended in time a breath captured, a heartbeat shared.

His eyes widened, surprise and joy blooming in his features. “You… you love me?” It came out almost reverently, an incredulous awe weaving through his voice.

“Yes,” I said, barely a beat passing before I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips against his, a soft promise that trembled under the emotional weight of the moment. “I love you, Joshua.”

His response was immediate. It was as if I had ignited a spark within him, and he kissed me back fervently, his lips exploring mine with newfound urgency. In his embrace, I could feel the world fade, dissolving into mere whispers, whispers of love that had never before tasted so real.

“I love you too,” Joshua breathed against my mouth after pulling back slightly, the joy radiating from him. I let myself get lost in the warmth of it, crowned in sweet realization as he kissed me again, brushing my hair away from my face, his fingers trailing softly over my cheeks and down to my shoulders.

We stood there, somehow lost in each other amid a world of books and dreams, a love story unfolding right outside the door of a thousand others. The words we had whispered hung in the air, vibrant as the novels around us, promising more pages yet to turn and adventures yet to be shared.

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ineffable-suffering · 1 year ago

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The Curious Incident of The Flaming Sword in Good Omens

Just like so many other Good Omens red herrings, hints and *Aziraphale voice* clues, the question of 'What the fuck ist the deal with Aziraphale's flaming sword' has been absolutely tormenting my mind ever since S1 dropped all those years ago.

And while many of my other questions about S2 (like 'What the fuck is the deal with the Eccles cakes' or 'Who the fuck made the Gabriel statue') remain unanswered and could, possibly, just not matter at all and I should just get the fuck over them– the unsolved case of Aziraphale's flaming sword in S1 has always seemed like a weirdly important blind spot to me.

So, in an attempt to finally solve this knot in my brain, I made a timeline for the bloody Flaming Sword because what else would I spend my Friday evening on. Here goes nothing, I thought:

Aziraphale gets issued the sword by Heaven to guard the Garden of Eden in 4004 BC, and gives it away to the humans.

God asks him about it right after they humans have left Eden, Aziraphale lies to her and before even finishing speaking, God just loggs off and doesn't seem to care anymore.

The sword seems to be lost for the next 6000 years to follow and, once again, no one really cares.

The first time we see it again is when the International Express Man delivers it to War in the present day.

The next time we see it after that, is when Pepper effectively kicks war in the shin, makes her drop the sword and proceeds to anihilate her with it.

Brian and Wensleydale do the same to Famine and Pollution.

Aziraphale then wields the sword once more, despite never having to really use it (but hey, it looks capital-B Badass).

Lastly, our Holy Delivery Guy then picks up the sword together with the other (now deceased?) Horsmen's artefacts and they once again vanish.

Needless to say, I found myself nothing the wiser after making this timeline. It seemed completely useless. I still had no idea why the sword even existed and why they kept making such a big fucking fuss about it all throughout Season 1. So, I decided to make another list, this time with all the random ass questions I had about this random ass sword:

Why was it issued to Aziraphale in the first place? Since when does an angel need a random flaming weapon to protect two (2) humans that are already being guarded by a hundred-meter-high wall, when he could very well just miracle away any and every threat to both himself and them?

Was he given the sword to defend himself against demons? If so, why would they give him a burning blade instead of, for example, a Supersoaker full of Holy Water? (Sure, I'm fairly certain Supersoakers hadn't been invented yet, but you catch my drift)

Is the sword actually burning with hellfire? If so, it would a) still be a pretty useless weapon against demons, but also b) possibly explain why Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale were able to kill or at least temporarily get rid of three of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (who, be they whatever they actually are, surely count as some sort of immortal entities just like angels and demons do)

Did the sword actually kill War, Pollution and Famine? After all, the World as we knew it did get reinstated by Adam again once they managed to stop Armageddon. Does that mean that the three Horsemen were revived again too? Unless Season 2 takes place in a war-less, pollution-less and famine-less world, they must have somehow made their return (or never really died in the first place)

Where. The Fuck. Is. The Sword. Now? And why does it bother me so much???????

Alas, just like so many other questions, these too seemed to remain unsolved. And since the fucking sword didn't make a comeback in S2, I guessed that it probably just wasn't more than ... well, a randomly flaming, randomly misplaced, randomly unexplained Flaming Sword.

Nothing more than a plot device.

Hmm, right. A ... plot device.

Hang on. (And that's when it finally hit me.)

It's a fucking plot device.

Most authors and consumers of media are familiar with the use of plot devices in story telling. However, I personally had only every seen characters be used as such, to merely bring an important point across or further underline or advance a story's or main character's development or plot.

It wasn't until I was about to simply give up because I couldn't see my way out of the seemingly unlimited sword-related questions anymore, that I realized: There are no answers to those questions. Just like there are no deeper meanings to any other plot devices. Their sole purpose it so shine some light onto another, more important thing, story or character.

And in this case, that character is Aziraphale. Or more so Aziraphale's choices and his relationship with and belief in God and Heaven. The Flaming Sword (or more so Aziraphale's giving-away of it) is the first way of showing us that Aziraphale:

doesn't always aka pretty much never obey God's will (even all the way back in The Beginning),

will lie to God about disobeying Her

and possibly, just like Crowley joked about, was the one who by trying to do a Good Thing, accidentally gave away something that would later somehow become a literal War weapon, lmao

It also tells us that:

God apparently doesn't always care or cast them out of Heaven when an angel actively disobeys and lies to Her. Or, for all we know, Aziraphale giving the sword away and not admitting to it was somehow part of Her Ineffable Plan anyway.

Heaven is apparently absolutely useless at keeping track of its very few ethereal belongings. That's what you get for outsourcing work, you capitalists.

Right at The End, the sword returns to its owner who had it right in The Beginning too: Aziraphale. And not just that: It actually ends up saving the humans. For the second time. First all the way back in Eden, when it was just Adam and Eve. And now, 6000 years later, at what would have been the end of the World. Very poetic, *wipes away tear*

So yeah, there you go. That's the big revelation I have come to. Would I have preferred to uncover yet another sneaky Gaimanian easter egg just so I could wave it in your face like some sort of a puzzle solved at a scavenger hunt?

Sure.

But hey, sometimes flaming sword plot devices are just that. And I'll make my peace (or War?) with it.

#good omens #good omens s1 #gos1 #aziraphale #the flaming sword #this has been haunting me for years #because im insane in the membrane #alas i solved it #or something like that #my own meta

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abarbaricyalp · 10 months ago

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Give Me Toothaches Just From Kissing Me

"But March 10th was two weeks ago!" Time doesn't exist. Happy Birthday to Bucky Barnes

The first time Sam had gotten Bucky a birthday cake, it was a joke. It was 2016, just a few scant months before their whole operation went to hell in a handbasket, and Sam had texted Bucky without expectation of a reply. Just a picture of the view from his fancy hotel balcony in Monaco or something, with a fancy chocolate cake on the wide balcony ledge. He was in town for a military tech conference, so his morning jogging schedule had been interrupted. Eating a whole cake on his own over four days would totally be in the realm of possibility.

An hour later, when Sam was more than half a bottle of wine down and two albums in on a 'crooners' playlist, a shadow peeled itself off of the wall and greeted him with a, "Hey, birdbrain."

Sam, perhaps, did not do any work towards proving that nickname stupid by flailing dramatically and knocking the cake with his forearm. With twin movements, they watched the cake sail to the ground seven stories below and explode into a shower of sugar and cream. Then they turned to look at each other. There were three beats of shocked silence and then they both burst into laughter together.

"That was a really good cake," Sam whined in between the laughter as he leaned into Bucky's space and Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Yeah, I could tell. You already had half."

"I didn't figure you were gonna actually show up," Sam pointed out.

"Why wouldn't I show up? You called."

"That hasn't stopped you before," Sam pointed out. He spent a few extra seconds staring at the mangled cake on the ground before he sat back on the balcony furniture. Bucky followed him down. He kept his arm around Sam until it was unfeasible, and then he let his hand fall to Sam's, fingers tangling together. Sam allowed it because it was his birthday, even though it was vastly out of the range of usual activities for them.

"Well, this time I was promised cake," he added after a few seconds of amiable quiet.

Sam looked over at him to discern if he was serious or not. The grin pulling at his usually severe mouth said all Sam needed to know. They burst into quiet giggles again.

“Good thing I got all the sweetness I need right here,” Bucky eventually conceded. He tucked a knuckle under Sam’s jaw and leaned in to kiss him beneath the moon and the lights and everything but a cake.

. . .

The second time Sam tried to give Bucky cake, it was a year later. It felt almost impossible that the world had slowed down around them long enough to justify an impromptu visit to Wakanda to check in on Bucky.

When their jet had touched down, Bucky was waiting for them with a wide smile that Sam had never really seen before. "Now, I know I told T'Challa not to do anything for my birthday, but he went a step further and got me everything I didn't want," he joked as he and Steve collided in a fierce hug, the kind of thing that always made Sam want to look away.

Then Bucky was extricating himself from Steve's hold so he could crowd around Sam instead, ducking his face down to Sam's neck as he squeezed his waist. If it was supposed to be a hug, it was like no hug Sam had ever had. He could get used to it though. After a few heartbeats shared between them, Sam pinched Bucky's hip and stepped back.

"Hey, old man," he greeted. Bucky grinned at him, boyish and a little smitten. It was a look Sam was more familiar with. "Happy birthday."

"Is that what this is about? You stop paying attention after 90," Bucky joked. For a split second, his fingers lingered over Sam's but he didn't take his hand--Sam didn't take Bucky's either--and he turned back to Steve to amble along together as they instantly fell into a conversation like they hadn't just been apart for the better part of half a year.

By the time they got around to dinner and a small party, Sam felt silly for bringing a dozen store bought cupcakes--hidden away in his room upstairs. The dinner had been more of a feast, despite Bucky's protestations, and the dessert spread that followed was unlike anything Sam had ever seen. No expensive wedding or VA event or Stark fundraiser held a candle to the cakes and cookies and sweet bars that were available. Sam ate more Wakandan desserts than he could name American desserts and each one was better than the last. Bucky, for all his talk of not wanting anything, had at least sampled every chocolate food on the table and gone back for full servings of most of them.

By the time they managed to crawl into Bucky's room--which branched off into Steve and Sam's rooms and connected bathrooms--all of them were groaning about stomach aches and sugar comas. Bucky crawled under his blankets, becoming nothing more than a groaning lump, and Steve settled along the bench at the end of the bed, laying back on it and resting a hand over his stomach, while burping and then apologizing every few minutes.

Sam ducked into his room while the others settled and grabbed the two bags from him and Steve, as well as the plastic carton of cupcakes. It was absolutely not going back with him at this point. His stomach hurt just looking at it.

Back in Bucky's room, he passed off the bounty. Bucky set aside the gift bags, but his eyes gleamed at the sight of more sweets.

"Come on, open the gifts," Sam jostled, sitting on the bed nearest where Bucky was sprawled.

"Nah, I'll look at them later," he said as he peeled the safety seal sticker away from the cupcakes.

"Oh, come on," Steve laughed. "You're still shy?"

"I'm not shy," Bucky snapped. "I'm civilized. Not everyone has to tear into their gifts as soon as they're within reach."

Sam snorted and tried to hide it from Steve.

"I do not do that," Steve objected, but not with much conviction. Actually, he wasn't that bad, Sam had to admit. But clearly Bucky had better stories than Sam.

“What are these?” Bucky asked instead of fighting a battle he knew he’d already won. He took the cupcakes and deftly opened the package without making a cacophonous sound, which meant he knew perfectly well what they were and clearly had had his share of them.

“I know they’re not anything special after that whole show,” Sam acknowledged, waving his hand in the general direction of the kitchens. “But these are packed so full of preservatives, you’ll be able to keep ‘em until his birthday,” he joked with a gesture towards Steve.

“Way to sell ‘em, Wilson,” Bucky chuckled. He was already halfway through one of the cupcakes and he held a blue one out to Steve. It was the middle of march, so most of the predesigned things were spring flavored. This set, blues and greens swirled around, was about as festive as Sam could find. “I love the frosting on these things,” he added around a mouthful of cupcake.

Steve shot Sam a knowing, slightly gloating look. He’d been the one to insist Bucky would enjoy these, no matter what else was going on with the day. Then he shoved the entire cupcake in his mouth just like Bucky because apparently manners hadn’t been invented yet back in the ‘40s. Sam shook his head at their antics, both of them trying to one up the other until almost the whole carton was gone.

Bucky reached over to snag a smear of frosting off of Steve’s cheek and sucked his knuckle into his mouth while Steve cried foul about uneven division of frosting.

“You two are gross,” Sam laughed and made sure his own face was devoid of any frosting before their turned their attention on him.

It didn’t work. By the time Bucky had turned his playful, teasing expression on Sam, his eyes had darkened just a little and one eyebrow rose in a challenge.

“No,” Sam warned, holding up the half of a cupcake still in his hand. “Whatever it is, no.”

But Bucky didn’t listen. He reached out to and shoved the cupcake against Sam’s cheek, frosting first, then pinned him back against the headboard with a broad hand across Sam’s shoulder and collarbone. Sam swallowed thickly, couldn’t help the way he went lax beneath Bucky’s weight as the other man settled across his thighs and leaned forward to lick a stipe of the icing off of Sam’s cheek.

“Stevie, you might wanna think about gettin’ to your own room,” Bucky warned without taking his dark, hungry stare off of Sam.

“Ah, come on. You two are gross,” Steve complained, but he did hustle out of the room pretty quickly. Took a cupcake for the road.

Sam tried to put some structure back in his bones, tried to posture up under Bucky’s hold. He reached up for the frosting, wiped most of it off of himself, and then smeared it across Bucky’s cheek, down to his mouth.

That mouth split into a grin before it was against Sam’s, lips parted, tongue hungry as he licked over Sam’s lips, chasing after the frosting he was depositing.

Sam had to admit: this may be better than the desserts downstairs.

. . .

The next time he actually got to sit still for Bucky’s birthday, it was a few lifetimes later. He had every intention of sleeping in just a little bit, skipping his run to get up before everyone else and make a cake, wake up the house to the smell of chocolate and buttercream, the way his mama used to always.

Instead, he slept in a lot a bit and woke up to the sound of nothing short of chaos in the kitchen. Sarah was out already, he surmised when he finally dragged himself upright and grabbed his phone from where it had fallen the night before to check the time. He and Bucky had gotten in late the night before, stuck in New York doing paperwork after some giant worm appeared out of a sinkhole in New Jersey. He had no idea how Bucky had the energy to get up, much less start making noise in the kitchen.

Groggily, maybe a little grumpily, he pulled on a hoodie and a pair of shorts that wouldn’t aggravate all of the scrapes he was covered in and went out to see what was happening.

Bucky did make it a point to clean up the kitchen any time he was near it. Especially after himself, but even when Sarah cooked. He insisted that she did the cooking, so he should do the cleaning. And somehow this reflected badly on Sam, as far as Sarah was concerned, which seemed unfair. Sam cleaned plenty.

The cleaning never seemed to justify the mess beforehand.

“What in the world is going on here?” Sam asked, leaning on the wide doorjamb that led into the kitchen.

Cass whirled around first, clutching a too large mixing bowl to his chest. “Nothing!” he exclaimed.

AJ, less practiced in the ways of subterfuge, said, “We’re making cupcakes! For Bucky,” he clarified

Bucky, who was remarkably clean for the amount of flour and egg otherwise splashed across the kitchen, grinned at Sam. “I didn’t ask, by the way. They brought it up. I dunno how you and Sarah say no to these little faces.”

AJ preened and gave another spin with the spatula, sent more frosting over the edge of his too-small bowl.

“You guys are working at a disadvantage, trynna listen to Bucky,” Sam said, coming into the kitchen. “I know you know how to use paper towels. Why does the kitchen look like this?”

Cass let out a little noise of guilt, but Bucky saved him from having to answer by producing a roll of paper towel from behind himself. “It’s probably supposed to be my job, but I’m a better taste tester.”

“Uncle Sam, is it true he can’t get salmonella ‘cause of the super soldier serum?” Cass asked.

“Can I have some?” AJ added.

Sam shot Bucky an unimpressed look, but he was nothing but cheeky smiles and not a shred of embarrassment. “I guess we’re gonna find out if it’s true or not,” he said. He snagged the paper towels from Bucky to begin wiping up at least the bits of cracked egg that lined every countertop. “Lucky it’s me in here and not your mama.”

Cass made the same kind of noise again as he searched for a place to put down his mixing bowl. It must be an oldest sibling gene, because Sam remembered Gideon making the exact same kind of sounds. Usually when Sam was about to do something like jump off the stair bannister.

“Mom’s out at the restaurant,” AJ said, unbothered. He was usually unbothered.

“Come here,” Sam said, gesturing more for AJ to make space than for him to actually move closer. “Bucky let you pick the wrong bowl, so you’ve gotta be careful,” he said, holding AJ’s hand as he held onto the spatula. “Go slow, like this.”

He looked up as AJ failed to do that, more frosting going flying, and caught Bucky’s eye. Bucky grinned again, soft and lovely in the mid-morning light coming through the kitchen window.

“A guy could get used to this view,” he said with a warm honey tone.

“A guy will not,” Sam said. “Get to actually cleaning.”

Bucky gave him the laziest of salutes and took the paper towels back.

By the time Sarah came home, with balloons and, hilariously, an ice cream cake, the kitchen was clean and they’d managed to make the best cupcakes Sam had ever had.

. . .

It took finding their own place, saving the world a few hundred times, a lot of missed events, and one perfect spring day for Sam to finally have a cake on the table on Bucky’s birthday. Handmade, from the same recipe he always got for his birthdays as a kid.

“Happy birthday, old man,” he said, kissing Bucky’s temple.

Bucky caught Sam’s hand against his shoulder, tugged him down to sprawl across Bucky’s lap. “Is that what all this is about?” Bucky teased, like he did almost every time Sam tried to do anything for his birthday, no matter how delayed the celebration was.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam laughed. He dragged the cake closer and lit the handful of candles–he was not putting a hundred candles on a cake–before sitting back a little. “Make a wish before you keel over.”

Bucky laughed, bright and loud, and his arms tightened around Sam. “I haven’t had to wish for anything for a long time, Sammy.” And he kissed Sam without even trying to blow out the candles.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing

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melliae · 1 month ago

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Refraction Railway Line #1 Abnormalities Part 2 (Analysis)

To Forsake One's Self

“A silhouette is observed inside the inflated sack around the chest. -It bears resemblance to a flower, or the central nervous system of a human.” - Meursault, Abnormality’s Observation Log #2.

A headless fish. That’s what the Abnormality is. Like, there’s no way of getting it wrong… Yet, how is it possible to swim so lively without a head? It doesn’t make any sense. Without a head, there’s no way someone can live, let alone be so vigorous...

But if we were to truly believe so, we would be sinning of “anachronism”, just like Faust said in Selva Oscura. After all, we are seeing not a physical entity, but a symbolic one.

The head and the brain are some of the most obvious and well-known symbols for the mind, or better said, for the conscious side of the mind. They are the source of your rationality, of all you are aware of, and what most people would say they really are. However, the conscious “self” or Ego is but a part of the whole psyche, its “rational light” extending only so far into the dark realm of nature or the unconscious, and I’ll be damned if Headless Ichthys’ entire design doesn’t hinge on that:

Its arena is an underwater reef. Needless to say, water itself is one of the de facto symbols of the unconscious, with the underwater environment just being the icing on the cake.

It’s also filled with vegetal life, such as seaweed. Due to their upright position, they could be understood as symbols of psychic development, of the differentiating and creative power within the unconscious.

And finally, the fact that Headless Ichthys is, well, a fish goes back to the idea of unconscious contents being symbolized by animal figures due to their primitiveness. Not always, obviously, but considering how the Ichthys has its head cut… Yeah, primitive it is.

And as I explained before with Watchdog, the unconscious mind is anything but quiet. That explains why the Ichthys splashes and swims with so much energy—that’s the complexes, or the “many intelligences” of the unconscious, in action, of which the Ego is simply the most differentiated or developed. However, a problem emerges with this definition, because it’s too similar to Watchdog, the two being some sort of battered consciousness that has receded into the unconscious. Thankfully, Carl Jung is there to help us once more.

“The egg is a germ of life with a lofty symbolical significance. It is not just a cosmogonic symbol—it is also a "philosophical" one. As the former it is the Orphic egg, the world's beginning; as the latter, the philosophical egg of the medieval natural philosophers, the vessel from which, at the end of the opus alchymicum, the homunculus emerges, that is, the Anthropos, the spiritual, inner and complete man, who in Chinese alchemy is called the chen-yen (literally, "perfect man").” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious.

I already quoted this in my theory-prediction about Faust, but the gist is that the Ego emerges from the unconscious in order to know and realize it(self), to reach a state of inner and outer harmony known simply as the Self, the archetype of psychic wholeness that encompasses all that exists—darkness and light, good and evil, the whole of life. It’s not a surprise, then, that such a psychic potency has left its mark in the many cultures across history, with the alchemical motif mentioned above just being one of many examples; others include the Buddha, Christ and his ichthys, God Himself, plants and flowers like the rose and lotus, square or circular mandalas, the firmament, or even time itself.

How all of this psychoanalytic mumbo-jumbo relates to the Abnormality is more than obvious. From the sac that holds the flower-nervous system hybrid to its very name, all points to the Ichthys not being guided by the chaotic storm of Watchdog but by transcendence itself, the unconscious Self of the world safely guarded within its own “womb”, like a fish enveloped by the dark waters of the sea or the homunculus created within the alchemical alembic. This “flower” or even “intelligence” is Ichthys’ own treasure that it wants to keep apart from people, untouchable and protected.

“Perhaps it can splash around more comfortably without that big sac of blood weighing it down? I ask the Sinners to pop its blood sac, but the fish turns aggressive and advances toward us upon hearing my order.” - Abnormality Encounter (“Pop its sac” option).

… However, there’s something that doesn’t fit with the interpretation above. If the sac and its treasure are so important for the Ichthys, to the point it has abandoned its consciousness, why does it use it to attack? Surely it can’t be healthy for the “self” inside, especially when all the affinities related to those attacks are so negative, like Envy (Pressing Sac) and Wrath (Blood Cannon). Even the more (often than not) positive Lust isn’t exempt from that, since “Clotting” is only used once you fail the mid-combat Event, which explicitly states that its sac is just so bloated with blood that its neck is about to shoot blood. But once more, Jung is here to save us!

“The forest, dark and impenetrable to the eye, like deep water and the sea, is the container of the unknown and the mysterious. It is an appropriate synonym for the unconscious. [...] The mighty old oak is proverbially the king of the forest. Hence it represents a central figure among the contents of the unconscious, possessing personality in the most marked degree. It is the prototype of the self, a symbol of the source and goal of the individuation process. The oak stands for the still unconscious core of the personality, the plant symbolism indicating a state of deep unconsciousness.” - Alchemical Studies.

Look at all the seaweeds and fallen trunks in the arena, all the vegetal life that shies away from growing and emerging into the shining surface, from developing themselves… Headless Ichthys’ “terrarium” is a prison, an unconscious “womb” that doesn’t let its “children” see the light of consciousness, and its sac acts the double so, being an actual womb or “alchemical vessel” within the already maternal waters, a warm place that refuses to set free the Self, the most important “flower” of all. This means the Abnormality is, similar to Sign of Roses and Carmen, a twisted and “demonic” manifestation of the Mother archetype: the devouring Mother that ruins and spoils all possible development to avoid suffering.

“There is no birth of consciousness without pain.” - Development of Personality.

Thus, it’s not surprising why “Clotting” is Lust, for the Ichthys surely must feel more than just relief and pleasure when expelling all the blood that was about to burst its sac. Likewise, the Wrath affinity of “Blood Cannon” and the Body’s increasing resistance to said affinity are rooted in the Abnormality’s reaction upon you trying to damage its precious sac, returning all those “offenses” with the anger and fury proper of a possessive mother. But the more it increases its Wrath, the more it fears pain and despair—its weakness to Gloom, despite how it would normally remain controlled and subdued most of the time (see “Blood Sac” passive).

In contrast, the only natural weakness of the Body corresponds to Lust, and just like in KQE’s case, it likely corresponds to the idea of love—of proper love that correctly nurtures and allows the development of the psyche, in contrast to the desperate need of the Ichthys to keep its self sheltered from harm as seen with Don’s Fluid Sac; maybe that explains why the Legs are resistant to Gluttony (despite the complete lack of said skills). And since I mentioned Don here, I think it’s time to clear a possible misconception that may have arisen.

Headless Ichthys doesn’t have anything to do with actual motherhood.

The meaning of the Abnormality is solely related to the smothering of self-development, the deliberate destruction and suppression of the personal identity in order to, apparently, attain a certain treasure. That’s why both Don and Faust have Fluid Sac, because the two of them suppress(ed) their original identities and psychologies in order to follow the “star” they think (or thought, in the near future) they are. Damn! In Sancho’s case, she literally drank from the Lethe so she could be reborn as someone that was explicitly said to be asleep—she dissolved herself in the waters of the unconscious to forget herself. It’s only after she killed Don Quixote, her father, that she truly awakened as such, as marked with the dawn behind her in one of the last CGs.

Coincidentally, the one who wrote the Logs was Meursault, who explicitly said he killed his own mother… I do wonder what kind of parricide awaits us in Faust’s Canto, as if Hong Lu’s wasn’t enough.

Anyway, as I previously stated, Headless Ichthys’ meaning is essentially the sacrifice of the Self (or your sense of identity, if you will) under the erroneous assumption that you can develop and live as yourself under the motherly heat and blood of the unconscious, safely “swimming in a pond” instead of confronting the world (yes, that’s the meaning behind its Encounter). Needless to say, such a perspective is glaringly wrong, and I think this is expressed through the Envy affinity of “Pressing Sac”, for why would the Fish that doesn’t want to be born be envious of those who did, unless, of course, those feelings don’t come from it but from the entity that carries within itself? It doesn’t help that “Pressing Sac” is the only skill that actually uses the sac to attack, despite how dubious the interpretation sounds.

Now, that pretty much is the end of the Abnormality’s “meat”. That doesn’t mean the rest of the parts and skills don’t have any interesting thing; it’s just that they aren't as rich as the Body and the sac, with simple interpretations such as the weakness to Sloth of the Legs and Tail—it’s a fish; it can’t get stuck or lazy while swimming! Meanwhile, the particular weakness to Wrath of the Legs may be related to the idea of rejecting the hand of one’s “mother”, to use the wrath against the compulsion to remain in the “waters”.

“This image is undoubtedly a primordial one, and there was profound justification for its becoming a symbolical expression of human fate: in the morning of life the son tears himself loose from the mother, from the domestic hearth, to rise through battle to his destined heights. [...] His life is a constant struggle against extinction, a violent yet fleeting deliverance from ever-lurking night.” - Symbols of Transformation.

Life is a struggle itself, a constant coming and going between day and night, good and evil, happiness and suffering—those polarities are what make everything alive and the Self whole. Thus, it’s not surprising the beginning of one’s (true) life is violent too, especially with a “mother” (i.e., longing) such as the Ichthys, with its such a strong and gluttonous grip. Maybe there lies the reason for the Pride affinity of “Powerful Clap”, used solely by the Left Leg, with said side belonging to the Tree of Life’s pillar related to the feminine and thus motherhood. In contrast, the much weaker and gloomier “Clap” is used by the Right Leg, and guess what things are related to that Pillar in the Tree? By that matter, LC used this division for the Sephirot’s gender.

Moving into the Tail… Nope, this part beats me. I can somewhat understand the resistance to Lus, since it could be some sort of contrast between the Tail and the Body (and sac), but I don’t have any idea regarding its only skill. The same applies to what the Fluid Sac status exactly entails, unlike the very obvious Blood Sac… Oh, and beyond the obvious reasoning of the endometrium being very rich in blood during pregnancy, I think it’s quite obvious that blood also doubles as a symbol for instinct and thus primitive psychic energy.

“But water is earthy and tangible, it is also the fluid of the instinct-driven body, blood and the flowing of blood, the odour of the beast, carnality heavy with passion.” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious.

Water, both as blood and the element as such, is the matrix of all life as a whole, that which impulses every being to their “destined height”. However, in this particular case, the vital essence is held up by the devouring parental imago, the “monster of the depths” that paralyzes all individual development and plants the seeds for future disasters.

“Fatigue is one of the most regular symptoms of loss of energy or libido. The entire process represents something very typical, namely the failure to recognize a moment of crucial importance, a motif which we encounter in a great variety of mythical forms.” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious.

That was said in relation to the Muslim story of how Moses met Al-Khidr, more specifically about the part where a fish the prophet and his servant planned to eat escaped. Parallels are more than obvious, with the case of Don, or better said, Sancho—the quiet, cynical, snarky, and extremely loyal child of Don Quixote—being much more interesting than Faust’s, because it tells us a lot about Bloodfiends and even the City and the Head.

It’s quite obvious that from the moment Quixote turned her into a Bloodfiend, all of Sancho’s attention was directed into her new “father”, for her hurt and depressed psyche unconsciously got attached to that infantile conception of security and family—a psychological complex that is best known as the Bloodstream. This means that, in essence, all Bloodfiends have an unconscious but powerful—almost numinous—attachment to their forefathers, filled with reverence, adoration, and fear not unlike those of a kid, hence making it impossible for them to move beyond their infantile psyche that fittingly yearns for things in their grossest, more primitive forms. And just like all the City-dwellers, Quixote, Sancho, and all Bloodfiends desire to feel the vitalizing air and sunlight, the warmth of each other, and to taste and gulp down the forgotten “waters” that nurtured the world itself and from which they have distanced themselves too much… But water and its blue color are too high and lofty for the stunted psyche of the Bloodfiends; it’s a direct betrayal to the Bloodstream that demands complete subservience to the ancestors, to the (likely equally, if not more stunted) Progenitor, and thus their own souls demand the “waters of life” in the same way it does with their desire for connection.

“That the lapis, or in our case the floating sphere, has a double meaning is clear from the circumstance that it is characterized by two symbolical colours: red means blood and affectivity, the physiological reaction that joins spirit to body, and blue means the spiritual process (mind or nous).” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious.

This also explains why Dante said Bloodfiends were similar to Distortions, because they both are essentially individual beings consumed and twisted by their own complexes and traumas, just in different ways, which means the City is no different from the Bloodfiends. Be it Fixers, Syndicate members, or Feathers of a Wing, countless organizations and teams have been formed in search of life itself in a land that has forsaken and exiled all the human fantasies, an action done by none other than the ever-watchful and oppressive protector of the nest that the City is.

“Nest: the alchemical vessel. This is the place where the *philosopher’s stone is incubated and generated. A popular symbol for the birth of the Stone is that of the *philosophical bird or chick hatching from the *egg in the nest of the philosophers.” - Dictionary

But where the compulsion of the Bloodstream and Headless Ichthys doesn’t allow people to go beyond their “parents”, the Head has likely styled itself as both the protector and biggest enemy of humanity, the last step that people have to overcome to truly become free—just like Don and Sancho did through Bari’s tales (who happens to be blue, in contrast to the Bloodfiends’ red) and their own adventuring, gaining a new attachment to life beyond what the Bloodstream told them. In fact, Sancho surpassed the Bloodstream’s control to the point she forced herself to drink from the Lethe. But in that, she fell into the same compulsion as before, sinking into the depths of the unconscious with a new “self” that was no different from her previous life: an unconscious child unaware of everything, born of fear.

Thankfully, that wasn’t where Don’s story ended, and she further demonstrated the potential to overcome the Bloodstream and its childish mania through battling her own father without the need of the Helmet of Mambrino. She acquired so many experiences and was filled by them in such a manner that during that last clash she was able to shake off all hesitation and fear to pierce the heart of the source of her life so she could take the reins herself… However, that was only possible due to her naive beginning in the River of Oblivion, washing away all that had happened.

“The sun breaks from the mists of the horizon and climbs to undimmed brightness at the meridian. Once this goal is reached, it sinks down again towards night. This process can be allegorized as a gradual seeping away of the water of life: one has to bend ever deeper to reach the source.” - Symbols of Transformation.

Fundamentally speaking, while the figure of the Mother—and overall family, hence part of the incest taboo according to Jung—is somewhat disagreeable during more or less the first half of one’s life (ignoring childhood, obviously), it’s an indispensable part for the later half, when one’s body becomes rigid and fixated on past achievements instead of coming to terms with the return to the Mother and family, the place of eternal rest. And yes, this is the explanation of why the “splash around together” option in its Encounter heals both HP and SP, and maybe why the Fluid Sac status also heals the Ichthys (though I still don’t have any idea of why the color changes between statuses).

The mother-imago that the Abnormality represents is quite all-encompassing, isn’t it? No matter how hard one tries to fight it, the yearn to give up and be embraced by the watery abyss is always present, and it becomes ultimately a necessity when the consciousness becomes battered and exhausted. That’s the psychological foundation of the many myths, stories, and rituals about rebirth, chief of them the christian baptism and alchemical dissolution (which I already explained). But as always, one can’t loiter there, in that moment of unconscious union with the Mother, unless they get stuck and a psychological disaster befalls them.

Ultimately, the relationship with our family and, above all, our parents is a complex one. This is not even about physical or psychological abuse as such, but about the consequences and impacts they have in our minds. The deficiency of their love, whether it be a lack or excess of it, is one of the heaviest marks possible, and sometimes the fault may not be upon them, but on us—our fears and anxiety that don’t allow us to separate from the psychic impressions of our families and parents.

My Form Empties

“A bell occasionally tolls in the red room. It’s a heavy, subduing sound. The statue is chanting something. You’re unable to recognize its words. But, you feel that whatever it is, is not a joyous thing. There’s a brass ring on the statue’s finger.” - Abnormality Encounter.

Whoever says Buddhism is a simple religion is lying through its teeth. It’s as complicated, if not more so than Christianity, with a rich history and divisions derived from its 2500 years of existence. There’s simply no way for me to explain it shortly and dispel some of the biggest misconceptions around it in such a short post. Nonetheless, I’ll try to make an attempt, because My Form Empties (or MFE and the Bodhisattva for short) really needs it.

Desire is a complex thing. It does drive you to do and accomplish things, yes, but at the same time it fills you with all sorts of expectations and fantasies that do not have any footing in reality. I’m not speaking about such things as equality, kindness, or goodness, but about the fact that desire and obsession can lead you to twist truth itself in order to satisfy itself, to think that some things can or can’t change in order to feel content—not you acting upon your desire, but Lust acting through and possessing you. Thus, it’s not surprising that a lot of old philosophies and even modern ones feel conflicted about it, imposing moral obligations on it or directly forsaking it all together, and chief among them are the dharmic religions that originated in India: Hinduism, Jainism, and Buddhism.

As the name of the category implies, those 3 religions focus on teaching dharma, which can be broadly understood as the underlying truth of the world and the righteous duties and ways of life derived from it, all in order to extinguish the desires and sufferings that disturb the world, achieving the state known as moksha, or liberation from the fantasies and illusions (maya) born of desire. What this state of freedom entails varies from religion to religion and even from sect to sect, but the main difference resides in that Hinduism and Jainism hold that there’s an eternal and pure self (atman) that experiences the trappings of desire and its illusions, and Buddhism says that the self is those desires and illusions, ergo, that there’s no eternal true self (anatman) but just a constantly shifting awareness born of attachment, and the realization of this and the cessation of attachment and thus of self is called nirvana.

The reason why the dharmic religions are so obsessed with the detachment of desire has to do with diverse theories, but due to the topic at hand, Buddhism holds that desire as a mental factor is the root of all attachment and hence suffering due to the impermanent and non-self nature of the world, and desire is in turn created by ignorance of how the individual self is just a short-lived fragment of the chain of causality or karma. The desire and fear—for they are inexorably connected—over life and death give rise to samsara, or the endless cycle of rebirth, where both the “individual sense of self” (which, again, doesn’t actually exist) and karma perdure, determining the individual and collective future based on the effects of actions and their intention, for the self, desire, and suffering are all equally mental. In other words, as long as you desire, you will suffer and fear; they are one and the same.

Now, it’s obvious why the Karma status has that circular, red shape:

“→ Wait, wait. You forgot that weird ring. (Gregor) → It…gives a strange feeling. I don't know why it comes to us, but when it sticks to the back, it feels...strange. Like a pressure is weighing down on the mind… (Sinclair)” - Abnormality’s Observation Log #2.

Circular because circles don’t have a beginning or an end, just like the chain of causality and the endless knots used to represent it. Red because, like the Bloodstream, karma is a mental compulsion that weighs down and traps the mind. And the felt pressure is the suffering and anguish caused by attachment to the perceived self therein.

The passive related to the Karma status, “Cyclical Karma”, is just an extension of everything I’ve described up to this moment: attachment to karma or causality is the main drive behind most, if not all, actions of all sentient beings, which in reality are nothing but reactions to past happenings. All desires, be it for pleasure or vengeance, are rooted in the ignorant and wrongful idea of a constant self that must be satisfied or protected, and thus karma extends to and encroaches all of creation. A fault, after all, must be punished, right?

By that matter, the passive-caused death when a Sinner reaches 108 Karma is based on the “108 defilements” or sense-states originating from the 6 senses acknowledged by Buddhism (5 senses plus consciousness). Therefore, acquiring 108 Karma means the “mind” of an individual has been overcome with desire and attachment, unable to be rescued by the hands of the Buddha… But wait a minute! That’s not how karma works at all! Besides, why does everyone acquire Karma when MFE does not? Well, to answer that, I need to continue explaining Buddhism's biggest currents: Theravada and Mahayana.

Theravada is the oldest Buddhist school and can be understood as the traditional one since it preserves and follows the “original” teachings of the historic Buddha, Siddharta Gautama; it’s mostly practiced in Southeast Asia, and it has basically died out in its home country of India. For its part, the Mahayana tradition originated as a sect of the Theravada that grew slowly before exploding in China during the 7th or 8th century, where it syncretized with the folk religion and native philosophies of the region before expanding to Korea, Japan, and other nearby countries, where it still remains popular to this day.

These two schools preach more or less the same teachings about attachment and liberation, but they obviously have differences, especially within the Mahayana tradition. In fact, calling Mahayana a “tradition” may be a misnomer, because it’s a collective of hundreds of different schools created by the addition of new philosophies and concepts according to the needs of each country and age. Theravada is not that different, but the division is lesser than in Mahayana’s chaos and madness. Still, if a main difference has to be mentioned, the most important for the analysis is the motivation for becoming an enlightened being (arhat): Theravada posits that one ultimately should strive for reaching nirvana first and foremost, with helping other people being entirely optional, while (most) Mahayana schools preach the “path of the bodhisattva”, that is, vowing oneself to help all sentient beings to attain enlightenment, including oneself. The title of bodhisattva should ring some bells.

“The fake bodhisattva was only biding its time to restore its strength, paying little attention to the confession.” - Mid-Combat Event (Check failure).

That’s to say, MFE is an entity that is committed to help all beings (i.e., the lured enemies) so they can be freed from the eternal cycle of suffering… Or so it appears. Beyond the text (or Dante?) directly calling it a fake bodhisattva, Faust and the game as a whole clearly identify it as a statue or idol of sorts—a murti, or s physical representation of a deity or “saint” created with the sole purpose of being worshipped and prayed upon. This difference is important since it basically defines MFE as a thing or place of worship where anyone can call upon the symbolized bodhisattva for help, and even offer things as a proof of gratitude!

“You place a coin before the grand Buddha Mūrti. With the ceaseless chanting gone, only the hollow echo of the bell bounces off the walls of the chamber. Perhaps the touch of secularity in the face of an emptying form has triggered something.” - Abnormality Encounter (“Place a coin” option).

This hatred for “banal” offerings is also seen in one of its many Wrath skills, “Compulsory Offering”, which is fittingly used only by the Buddha Mūrti part. Needless to say, this behavior is completely unlike that of an actual bodhisattva or compassionate arhat, who would move heaven and earth to help and save sentient beings. Furthermore, while they may not seem to be that useful, offerings are indeed quite helpful; they can help during meditation and the burning of mental “poisons” (such as fear, anger, pride, wrong beliefs, etc.), or simply allow one to express gratitude and gather “good” karma for one’s next life. There’s no reason or need for an actual bodhisattva to be angry, no matter if the offering is a mere coin, unless said person has bias (i.e., wrong beliefs) and thus desires…

By all means, My Form Empties can’t be further away from being an actual bodhisattva, with all of its skills and resistances showing that one way or another. In fact, it’s telling that it doesn’t resist any Sin affinity when another “religious” Abnormality did exactly that (Spiral of Contempt), with the sole exception being Lust, and considering its propensity for anger and retribution, it obviously doesn’t speak about the natural compassion of enlightened beings. What I mean is that, despite how much it chants sutras and mantras to empty itself, the Abnormality remains attached to its own self-love, comparable to Skin Prophet’s, as it attempts to save only itself, as the results of failing the Event’s check say: by brainwashing people, MFE can resolve and impart its own karma into others.

“Empty oneself by verbalizing one’s thoughts. Expel everything within so that nothing remains. That is the statue’s way of forgetting the self. You sense yourself disappearing as well.” - Abnormality Encounter (“Listen Closer” check failure).

The Sinners and Dante weren’t forgetting themselves because the Bodhisattva’s teachings were good; they did so because they were filled by its own actions and intentions. It’s no coincidence that the only way to pass the previous check is through the team having an average SP equal to or greater than 0—mental stability to confront the cultish behavior of MFE and transform them into something useful. The lured enemies, however, weren’t that lucky, and maybe that’s why they were chosen and are constantly healed (their passive’s name, “Bhaishajya”, literally means “medicine”), because they could offer something more than an empty coin thanks to their broken, hurt minds.

Now, I can certainly give a conclusion regarding the Abnormality’s meaning, but I still think there’s some elements of interest that merit some more analyzing, such as the passives or attack patterns :) And besides, I want to yap some more about Buddhism

Beginning with the passives, the most important one to understand is “Nirmana”, whose name comes from one of the Three “Bodies” or Trikaya of Buddha, an important concept of the Mahayana tradition. Basically, it expresses the all-encompassing nature of Buddhahood, which “exists” (to the extent the word can apply) everywhere and everywhen, from the ineffable dharmakaya (“true body”) of the Buddha, which embodies the emptiness inherent to all phenomena, to its nirmanakaya (“manifested body”), which exists as a material projection that grows and dies as it teaches about dharma to sentient beings. This means the Buddha Murti is a creation that can be manifested as many times as the Abnormality wishes, while its true core or essence resides as an actual brain or self within the Stone Seat, because MFE only becomes anatman once the Murti is destroyed—the only thing that remains is the angry and fearful “ground of being”, pure action unbounded by the apparent self.

Really, the most bodhisattva-like thing MFE does is its mental training and focus, or dhyāna, which is a mental disposition during meditation that tries to burn out all mental distractions and poisons in order to detach the mind of the world—to extinguish oneself. It’s no surprise that it can halve all negative statuses when used as a skill, independent of how paradoxical it is that its affinity is Lust, nor that it can grant 10 Protection to each part as a passive… until all of its lured allies are killed and it has to come out from its meditation to protect itself, which makes doubt my original statement.

Moving into the skills and their distribution, I think it’s important to begin with a small description of the Buddha Murti, just for the irony, because beyond the actual Buddhist crown it’s wearing (which is seemingly Tibetan, not Mahayana), it’s doing two particular mudras with its hands: the shuni mudra in the right, and (possibly) the chinmaya mudra in the left.

The shuni mudra, as its name indicates, is related to the idea of sunyata, or the emptiness of all phenomena; it’s believed that doing this hand gesture helps to reach a better, deeper state of patience and equanimity during meditation. The chinmaya mudra is the hand gesture that’s “full of knowledge/awareness”, and from what I understand, it’s supposed to help with bringing awareness over one’s body and mind.

Now, while I do have some knowledge about Buddhism, I can’t say the same about mudras or yogic traditions, so I’m not sure about my previous descriptions. But if they are true, the two mudras fit with the overall theme of the Abnormality, which is trying to empty its being and body, and also adds to the irony, since the Buddha Murti’s skills are all Wrath-based with 1 exception, “Expound Sutras”, which is Lust and thus may be understood as the only actual good (but not selfless) thing it has done: supporting and motivating its followers through chanting the teachings of dharma. However, this good deed is overshadowed altogether by the other 3 skills:

I already explained “Compulsory Offering”, but I’m repeating it since it complements another Wrath skill, “Sluggard Waker”. The two focus on inflicting Karma based on the Bodhisattva’s judgment, showing once more that it has certain preferences and biases regarding its followers: it wants proactive people that offer their own lives in service to it.

The last one is “Prajñāpāramitā”, named after the Mahayana concept of “perfect wisdom”, the awareness and understanding of reality as it is and without attachment, proper of all realized arhats. The fact that it’s a Wrath skill and it punishes those who have the most Karma clearly shows the title is sarcastic.

It’s also important to note that all of these skills are related to teaching “dharma” to people and “protecting” it in the form of punishing those who have gone astray, akin to how the wrathful or fierce deities act in Mahayana, though that may be how it wants to be perceived and/or disguise its out-of-character moments. At any rate, the nature of the skills fits with the idea of the Murti itself being the nirmanakaya of the Abnormality, a manifestación created with the sole purpose of spreading its teachers to solve the karma of its “dharmakaya”, its true self that resides as a self-aware brain inside the Stone Seat glued to the ground—the least Buddhist and spiritual thing possible.

Anyway, in contrast to the Murti, the Stone Seat uses only Lust skills that are solely focused on it and are mental in nature: “Mahāsrī”, “Svāhā”, and the previously explained “Dhyāna”. If this last skill is the mental state in which the brain inside the Seat is, then the other two are in what it focuses on: “Mahāsrī” is likely based on the Mahāsrī Sutra, which states that one will be granted divine protection and fortune by reciting the 12 names of the goddess Mahāsrī (an epithet of Lakshmi); and “Svāhā” is named after the word used to signal the end of each recited mantra that, in this case, should correspond to the 12 of Mahāsrī, indicating the readiness of the Abnormality to finally take action (i.e., 3 Damage Up). Again, all of this is further proof of the inherent cowardice and self-centeredness of the Abnormality, especially because the Seat only starts to use “Mahāsrī” and “Svāhā” once its “gross body” is destroyed and becomes anatman.

When you get to it, My Form Empties’ entire being seems tempting, no? A bodhisattva-like figure that promises to release you from your pain, that won’t forsake and abandon you midway. Even the mid-combat Event references this, the illusion of a peaceful emptiness that embraces all without exception. Wouldn’t that be sweet? To reach that final blow that puts an end to the flame? But it should be obvious at this point that, just like Glupo and STNOWC, it’s impossible for just one being to carry all those sins. Even arhats like the Buddha didn’t do that, and waited for sentient beings to open up to their teachings instead, for doing otherwise would be a desire, an attachment.

“However, no man can wholly shoulder another’s suffering in their stead. Before we all are allured by its false compassion, someone has to break the statue.” - Mid-Combat Event.

Even when the Buddha found and converted the mass murderer Angulimala, he didn’t force the latter to follow him and waited until Angulimala himself regretted his actions and decided on his own to become a monk. This example is so wholly unlike My Form Empties’ behavior that it could very well be its own terrace on Mount Purgatorio, and hence it perfectly represents the failure itself of the fake Bodhisattva: no matter how much it recites sutras and asks for the help of higher beings, not even the Buddha can save it as long as it holds onto its desires, to the twisted pleasure and release of pushing its red and bloody karma into others. Neither its form nor self will ever become empty, because it’s psychologically bound to it, unlike Angulimala, who quietly and firmly accepted his own lynching, for he became an arhat too, unbounded by and detached from karma.

Furthermore, the EGO coming from MFE just spits into the Abnormality’s self even more, because it’s named after the most famous quote of the entire Mahayana school: “Emptiness is Form”, where “Form” is the ever-shifting self of the phenomena that’s nothing but one moment among the endless transformations within the cycle of causality, happenings, retributions, ignorance, identification, and attachment—the very own poison against which the Bodhisattva fell, and so did Heathcliff and Outis.

“Do I even deserve to speak as humans do? I, who killed Catherine… You, who deprived me of Catherine… Must be a thing lesser than a savage beast. Then… why should I even keep pretending to be human when I am not? If they were right... that if I really were to become nothing more than a howling, savage beast…” - Heathcliff, Chapter 34: The Beast, Canto VI.

“No matter what lurks in the pasts of us Sinners...? Even... if they have killed hundreds, thousands—no, tens of thousands of innocent people? Will you still... embrace them?” - Outis, The Carousel (The Tale of a Great Fixer Who Once Reached for The Dream) , Canto VII.

Those 2 Sinners and the Abnormality all present the same problem that I’ve commented on so much that I’ve become sick of it: attachment to karma and desire that leads to the false belief that there’s a constant self within one’s past and (wrong)doings, which in turn creates one’s future. Some may blindly accept it, thinking of themselves as unable to break the cycle of violence and suffering that has built them, and others may desire to escape it, without understanding that such a thing still is attachment and thus unconscious identification, leading to an ignorant and paradoxical longing for the status of an arhat. But that’s not what Buddhism is at all, for the single realization that actually matters is the same one that Angulimala—killer of children, elderly, women, and men—achieved: karma doesn’t define you, for it constantly changes, and so does the self.

Ultimately, there’s no one and nothing to forgive, for there is no self. You don’t have any obligation to be the same person you were even 1 second ago, for better or worse.

Post-Commentary

...

I'm not doing this kind of extravaganza ever again. I'm not referring to the analyses, of course, but doing these monstrosities back to back with no rest xD And yeah, I knew I said these 2 Abnos were going to be dense, but I didn't think it would be this level of dense... But alas, everything to give a nice Christmas gift!

Anyway, beginning with Headless Ichthys, I know now why it was paired with Watchdog: the two are deeply tied to analytical psychology in some way. But with the focus on the complexes and parental issues, I think it's worth clarifying something with regard to a certain Sinner: Sinclair.

While the underlying meaning behind the Ichthys can apply to our little twink, it's not in the same manner as Don and Faust, for it's not a question if he will hatch or not, but when. The entirety of Canto III expresses his deep drive to act and rise from his “nest”, and all posterior stories show how imperious that necessity is to the point of violence, with the most recent case (Canto VII) being a more than welcome evolution of such an anger. This is the entire reason why Demian is interested in him, why Kromer acquired the form of a vagina dentata (she was a manifestation of the devouring Mother, which yes, it means N Corp. Sinclair is very much like Sancho and Faust, even having the 2 main affinities of Fluid Sac in his kit: Gloom and Lust), and why Sansón chose him to play Bari, the guide and alchemist of Don after the incident of La Manchaland.

Speaking now about the relationship between Bari and Sancho, it’s quite interesting that the two are women when the “night sea journey” and “reaching for the stars” are more often than not masculine narratives (see Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces, for example): the masculine Ego separating from the primitive and feminine unconscious symbolized by a wicked woman, dragon, or similar aquatic animals in order to establish himself and the world, to earn a treasure, or even save a damsel. By that matter, this latter duality of womanhood speaks of the differentiation between the Mother archetype and the Anima (in men; it’s the Father archetype and the Animus in women), so to avoid the pitfall of confronting every woman (or man) they met as their mother (or father), which is the likely cause of the subtextual incest in these kinds of stories… which is surprisingly lacking in Sancho’s case too! Kudos to Project Moon here for adapting the overall skeleton of the story and skipping the parts that most would find off-putting, because anyone else would have added them, especially with vampires (they have an undeniable erotic element, whether you like it or not).

Regarding the divagation about the Bloodfiends’ nature, I skipped certain someone that, unlike Don and her still warm-color palette, is completely dressed in blue and very obviously old, wishing to rest once and for all. So while Don is still tied somewhat to the Bloodstream, Sansón has completely broken free from it in true fashion as a bearer of the Mark of Cain, the first parricide. Nonetheless, it is still worth celebrating the two Bloodfiends have freed themselves from the cursed blood “that is thicker than water”.

And finally, I focused mostly on Sancho and the Bloodfiends because we know more about them than about Faust at the moment. But that doesn’t mean the little “witch” doesn’t have her own moments:

“Faust: It is fortunate that someone like yourself is aboard the train. Your presence ensured that child's survival. Sasha: Whatcha talkin' about all of a sudden? C'mon, no need to keep up appearances between people in the same line of work.” - Chapter 20(5): MultiCrack Office, Murder on the Warp Express.

However, there’s a difference between Don/Sancho and Faust: the former’s main colors are yellow and red, of the rising sun and blood, while Faust’s are pink and white, which are softer shadows (well, not really, but bear with me) of Don’s colors. What that implies is beyond me, but they are still a far cry from the blue’s spirituality.

Now, regarding My Form Empties... No, surprisingly I don't have anything else to comment beyond one single thing: what the actual fuck is supposed to be Bloody Gadget? Like, it's not a ring, and instead of being in MFE's right hand, it's actually on the background (or something similar to it, at least. I don't know). I tried to search for similar icons, symbols, and objects, but there was no luck. So if you know, please, feel free to comment what it is.

Oh, and I also didn't comment about the Sin affinities in the MD Encounter just because it's easy to understand: Lust and Gluttony are utilized as symbols for desire in general, and thus a gluttonous and/or lustful individual is blind and deaf enough to ignore whatever MFE tries to do. The world seriously doesn't respect it xD

So with all of this said and done, happy holidays!

#limbus company #refraction railway #refraction railway 1 #canto vii spoilers #abnormalities #Headless Ichthys #My Form Empties #technically speaking spoilers up to canto vii

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kiwanopie · 2 years ago

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Tell us more about lord crime sakusa please 🙊❤️

1.4K more crime lord!Sakusa lore + more lore for reader

Lemon sugar soap and airy high notes, your buoyant little song is cut in two the moment you see it in your living room.

The moment you see him in your living room.

Your face immediately drops. Freezes and then lours in broadening terror, until fright is stained across your face. Tears welling as you step back - you’re more exposed in your pajamas shirt than you ever were in those skimpy little getups they make you wear.

Because he’s not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to cross that straight little line you’ve drawn. All the effort - the horrible things you’ve done to make sure those two sides never touched. Making yourself invulnerable, untouchable, non-existent. Breaking your back to make yourself as elusive as possible, and now he, Sakusa Kiyoomi, the most feared man in all of Asia is sitting in your living room.

He’s sitting in your living room.

You don’t even try to care about how utterly devastated you look, tears already running hot down your cheeks. He just threw all of that hard work in your face. Your peace of mind in your face. He’s not supposed to be there. He’s not supposed to be here. This is your safety. This is your everything.

Fresh flurries of earlier shower aroma whiff into the empty air of your living room as he stares at you from the couch, little hearts curling into the air and drifting in his direction. You smell like bundt cake.

Sakusa clears his throat as the tendons in his jaw flex, trying and somewhat failing to keep his body language as confident as possible. “I’d like to-“

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The way your voice trembles only sets jagged edges onto the way you address him. “You’re not…” You shake your head. “You’re not supposed to be here-“

He raises his hands in an attempt to placate you. “I know. I’m sorry-“

“How did you find my address…?” Or get past your motion sensors. Lay a hand on the door knob without your blink camera alerting you, or break into your home without your dog so much as barking. “How long have you-“

Your eyes flicker to the aforementioned dog, who’s lackadaisical amble speeds to a giddy trot at the sight of the intruder. Tail waving contentedly as he raises his two front paws to perch them on Sakusa’s lap, and turning your world upside down as the grief in your stomach tightens.

Sakusa rubs distractedly along his floppy ears. “A while.”

He has the decency to look guilty about it at the very least. A little stiffened in his slouch as the apples of his cheeks turn a soft flowery. He’s in his usual two piece suit he wears during work hours. Save for the jacket thrown over the bridge of your couch, and the few relaxed buttons on his crisp button up; few enough to turn his collar loose.

“There’s a better way to do this. I know that.” Sakusa claps his hands in his lap. “But I knew this was the only way to get you alone.”

Your feet brush against the edge of the carpet as you slowly retreat - like a frightened rabbit. “What are you-“

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

But even still you lock up as he stands, long legged strides now moving in your ever shrinking direction. All the more smaller when he’s tall enough to touch the ceiling with his arms bent. Fit from youth and exercise, veins in his hands and scabs on his knuckles. You don’t even realize through your terror that he’s only in his socks, padding your wooden floors in an effort to show you the respect that you deserve.

You notice his cheeks are actually a thin rouge now that he’s close enough. It softens the perpetual scowl oftenly carved into his face. “I’d… like to offer you a proposition.”

Sakusa tries to keep his composure at a glance of those misty doe eyes. You’re breaking his heart by looking so frightened. “I know how miserable you are working as a scout, and how much you despise being involved with those people - or even this business altogether,”

He surmised at first. It’s hard to imagine a pretty thing like you being treated kindly by an ugly trade like this. Short bruises on you that are close to healing nearly every time he sees them, but it’s a given that they’re renewed in his absence. The cold stare of your mask. Frigid and resentful the way you avoid the eyes of your employers the few times he’s seen you with it off. You’re young and beautiful, wilted and wounded on the inside as is everyone else with an early start to this profession. It’s only common sense that you’d be unhappy.

But then the Azure Dragon contract happened. And your reputation of being clinical and concise was disrupted by a slaughter that would even make a man like him a little queasy. - He had heard there was some bad blood between their leader and the people at your organization. Something buried in the past, but as all disputes with your employer's enterprise it was kept secret with that trademark air of taboo wafting around it. He was there when you were informed of the contract, he could see it in your body language. Locked up and afflicted, so much ire in the air that he could all but taste it. On watching you step out of the room, the first thought that crossed his mind was:

“It was a mistake to send her.”

“Hm?” Your handler lifts her head from the string of documents laid out on her desk.

Sakusa’s eyebrows cinch as he points his gaze toward the door. “Why not send a more… unkempt scout? She doesn’t seem right for a role like that.”

And although obscured by a mask, the look of quiet contempt on her face is visible in her tone. “All my scouts are killers, Sakusa-san. Especially in my elite class.”

“Yeah, but-“ But he stops there. There’s no way to make a gut feeling seem like an appropriate rebuttal.

Though still, She seems intent on making sure he leaves with little to no peace of mind. “She’s the one who asked for it, if that makes you feel any better. The women in our lineup very seldom leave their business unfinished.”

At hearing that, that piquant taste of ire sours to a pungent note of despair.

He wasn’t surprised when news came that the clan had fallen. After a few days of radio silence, Seiko Akie’s head was found perched on a spike, the word “COWARD” etched into the skin on his forehead.

What an ugly path to take. He thought. For you it was. For the goodness that still radiated off of you, for all the times he’s seen you hesitate at the sight of depravity, for your integrity. For anyone keen enough to look between the lines it’d be written all over you ~ that you had your limits, and even the few you’d crossed would fall further of the butchering that took place during that contract. You were being corrupted. What little good in him only shone through seeing the surplus of genuinity you had in you and if that was gone…

If that was gone…

He’s not going to let that happen. “I wanna give you a way out of it. All of it. I could make it disappear.”

“…What…?”

Sakusa’s gentle as he gathers your palms in his, tender over soft silken skin, unroughened even through your years of work. He holds you like you’re jewelry. Treasure sparkling in his grasp as he looks down at you with the kind of adoration you could only sing about. “I’ll buy out your licensing and have my lawyers write out an order that would make you completely inaccessible to them. I could even get your name wiped from their record just to be extra thorough about it-“

“What? W-Why?” Your tears still fall down the tops of your cheeks. “Why would you… do that for me…?”

He swallows hard. It’s strange to see a man like him look so meekend. “Because it would be right. Because that’s what you want, and it would be best for you.”

You stare at him a watery moment.

And then soberly, so removed from your current devastation that you almost sound like a different person. Wrought with the kind of baseline aprehensity that should come from a seasoned business woman, at least in this line of work.

You ask: “What do you want for it?”

He inhales deeply.

And he promises, swears on his life and the lives of all who he has ever cherished - that this’ll be the first and the very last time he’ll ever disappoint you.

He answers: “I want you to marry me.”

#crime lord!sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu x reader #hq sakusa #haikyuu!!#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x reader #sakusa drabble #msby sakusa #sakusa fluff #sakusa fanfiction

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shock · 1 year ago

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"Don't just play—do something!", Jack Abele, 01.21.24.

This is a companion piece to the collage I made about moving into the first place that felt like my home back in '21 (shown below). They have matching frames and are displayed together above our dining table! This second piece is a reflection on how my relationship to "home" has evolved since then, especially after proposing to my now fiancé last month. I'm really proud of it!

Text transcript:

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

In the cold, thin clouds of interstellar space, written in the precise message of starlight:

What made you so interested in fireflies?

Imagine that they propel the environment into play: they STAND OUT, add color, chaos, curves moving behind and below, inside, outward along feedback loops, perplexing positive panic persuaded to make another form of animal art.

Love is a Many-Splendored Thing, a beautiful structure, flamboyantly scuzzy, sassy, a full bouquet of many wild ideas — a dazzling interplay between lightness and unclarity, trying things out, fancy, whimsical records looped with webs, half-truth surface textures composed of swirls within swirls, a performance of information, scene-setting details with many impressive, more tongue-in-cheek, unforeseeable aspects relatively stable and evolving at the same time.

Distinctly transitional.

The trouble with love is it's hard to describe in simple and consistent words. Beyond the jolting familiarity of self-similar, self-referential tessellating hues, the little comedy-drama fictions... you see openness, possibilities toward change; our very existence together antidote to the dull grind of the paradox that we live every moment in an indifferent universe yet having so much fun with friends, local communities, places, faces, even muddy bog holes.

Music! A Tribe Called Quest, The Beastie Boys, The Breeders, Nick Cave, Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Santana and Crosby, Stills, and Nash, mud-caked at Woodstock, picking up Space Age scrap, cutting collaged paper, playing with magical little lights, heretically evolving in this meaningless, magnificent place fine-tuned just right to allow for life, love, and grunge to exist nevertheless.

Maybe what keeps me here, making art, is how beautiful it is for optimism to become the first expression of hope despite danger amid the disparate depth of our universe created by chaos.

Movement characterizes my "youthful, dynamic" journey, escapes to infinite other places somewhere else, afraid of considering complicated survival long-term, wherein risk is worth the reward. But something about your windy city reminded me what strange, cascading effects the fingers of two hands form together, intersect one another, interfere with fate, interlace like light radiating rays woven, at certain points, into dynamic singularities.

Mutualism is a happy hybrid of symmetry and chaos — a relationship, it's like the entire forest is blinking in sync.

Just as the fun is to make up a great story, the writer in me calls this piece, "Don't just play— do something!"

This time around, living offers a profound pivot from playing a game. Today we confront as animals, we're not far from dogs, domesticated punks at heart, manifold.

I am humbled, exhilarated, afraid yet strangely calm and clear "On Bended Knee"

(The term ground seems inapt.)

...Nor is it possible to describe...

The closest feeling to being the world itself? It is to have loved someone so much that you wanted to spend the rest of your lifetime with them, with each other.

We're writing a book. Adding a stroke of paint and words to illustrate what we became, a bright third dimension that can be seen from space to meet the generations to come, to simulate the uncountable whimsies they could achieve.

The mind already knows before the key touches the lock.

To watch firefly swarms with a mangy mutt.

That must be quite a sight to see.

BECAUSE THEY EXIST

NOWHERE ELSE ON EARTH.

#collage art #my collages #my art #collage poetry

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j4gm · 1 year ago

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Simon's Inferno; Fionna & Cake and the nine circles of hell

I don't usually do this kind of thing, but I happened to read the first part of the Divine Comedy recently, and after hearing Betty mention wanting to dig to the Devil I've been wondering if there were any deliberate (or accidental) parallels between Dante's Inferno and Fionna & Cake. This is gonna be a self-indulgent exploration of that idea.

If you don't know, Dante's Inferno describes the author's self-insert journey through the different layers of the Christian Hell. Each layer, called a circle, represents a type of sin. It was written in the early 1300s and is where pretty much all modern depictions of Hell originate, including Adventure Time's Nightosphere.

Simon, of course, is the mortal Dante of this story, and the one who makes the journey to the centre of the Earth. Just as we join Dante while he is "lost in the woods" and contemplating sin, we join Simon while he is at a loss about what to do with his life.

Fionna Campbell and the First Circle (Limbo)

The First Circle of Hell is an interesting place, because it is reserved for those who are virtuous and without sin, yet simply didn't know about Christianity. It is full of people who were born too early to have heard of Christ, or born in the "wrong" parts of the world and raised with the "wrong" religion.

Compare this to Fionna's situation. She knows nothing about how the Multiverse works or her world's place within it. She is completely unaware of the illegality of her world's existence, and is innocent in every way, but is still expected to suffer the consequences as if she has sinned.

Inferno is interesting for the fact that it acknowledges how unfair this is. Similarly, we the audience are expected to sympathise with Fionna.

Simon Petrikov and the Second Circle (Lust)

Simon becomes so disillusioned with his world that he mistakenly believes everything will become better if he is able to reunite with Betty again. He is allowing his actions to be swayed on a whim by the mere memory of the woman he loved, and his actions could have dire consequences for those around him.

At a stretch, Choose Goose can perhaps be considered the Minos to whom Simon recounts his sins, although Dante didn't actually end up having to do this.

Cake the Cat and the Third Circle (Gluttony)

Cake is gluttonous in her consumption of everything that Ooo has to offer. Aside from literally overindulging on magic fruit at the market, she is also infatuated with the magical world she has found herself in, and with her new ability to talk.

Simultaneously, we see Prismo being gluttonous in his consumption of Finn and Jake content. He misses Jake, and is addicted to the false relief of watching them play out their past/alternate adventures.

Prismo the Wishmaster and the Fourth Circle (Greed)

The difference between greed and gluttony is sort of narrow, but from what I understand, gluttony represents simple overindulgence, while greed is the more sinister act of hoarding vital resources from others.

Presumably, Wyatt's wish in this episode would have reflected his greedy desire to have Tree Trunks all to himself, and we know he has already done terrible things in pursuit of that desire.

Perhaps Prismo's creation of Fionna World can also be considered an act of greed. The creation of an unauthorised universe is apparently dangerous, but Prismo disregarded this danger. He also disregards the possibility that using Ice King's head as a covert hard drive might be somewhat unethical.

Destiny and the Fifth Circle (Wrath)

Dante depicts two forms of wrath; active wrath, in which the enraged battle above the slimy waters of the River Styx, and passive wrath, in which the sullen sulk beneath its surface. This dichotomy is reflected by Farmworld Finn, who is a passively wrathful agent in a very actively wrathful world. Finn is haunted by past traumas and losses, which have turned him into a person unable to find much joy in the world. Characters like Big Destiny and Peanut, on the other hand, are constantly at the throats of both enemies and allies.

Jay and Little Destiny are both equivalent to Phlegyas, who exists on both sides of the dichotomy and sails the protagonists across the River Styx.

The exit from the Fifth Circle represents a major turning point in Inferno, as Dante and Virgil require the divine intervention of an angel to open the gates of Dis and progress. Simon and our heroes require a similar intervention, which comes in the form of the jewel that lets them reprogram Prismo's remote, opening the gates to the rest of their own journey.

The Winter King and the Sixth Circle (Heresy)

Heresy in a Christian context is the rejection of a core aspect of the Christian faith. This episode shows us a world which rejects a core aspect of what we understand about Adventure Time; that Simon putting on the crown would transform him back into the mad Ice King with no hope of regaining his sanity.

The Winter King himself is the ultimate heretic, because not only does he oppose the doctrine as it is understood, but he knows that the heresy he is spreading is false. He knows that there is no true way to overcome the crown's madness, and he hides from our Simon that he is deflecting it onto Princess Bubblegum.

The Star and the Seventh Circle (Violence)

I mean this one is fairly self-explanatory. The vampire world is the most violent place that our protagonists visit.

Dante divides the sin of violence into several specific parts. One part is violence against neighbours, which is represented in this episode by the conflict between vampires and the rest of the world's inhabitants. Another part is violence against the self, which is reflected by Bonnie and the Star's mutual suicide at the end of the episode.

Violence against God, violence against Nature, and violence against Art are more difficult to pick out among this episode's plot. I mean, Dante himself would probably argue that the gay moments represent sodomy (violence against Nature) but I'm not a homophobe and neither is anyone on the crew.

Jerry and the Eighth Circle (Fraud)

I think this is the only episode for which there is not really a compelling parallel. The Lich was a victim of seduction, since reaching his goal has not brought the satisfaction he expected, but he is not a perpetrator of any kind of fraud. BMO pretends to be Princess Bubblegum I guess.

Slightly more compelling is this episode's b-plot, which features a neglect of duties by Prismo and Orbo that could amount to the fraudulent acts of simony or graft. But this is tenuous.

GOLB's portal, or the entrance to the final circle of Hell, appears within the Lich's resting place which is a giant's coffin. The entrance to the Ninth Circle in Inferno is also flanked by giants.

Casper & Nova and the Ninth Circle (Treachery)

In Inferno, the centre of Hell is the centre of the Earth, and is where Satan resides. Just as Satan inhabits the centre of the Earth, GOLBetty inhabits the centre of Adventure Time's Multiverse, surrounded by asteroids that represent universes, which themselves can be imagined to represent the circles of Hell as I've discussed throughout this post.

Satan's maw is reserved for the greatest traitors in all history, who in Dante's opinion are Brutus and Cassius who led the assassination of Caesar, and Judas who betrayed Christ. The Lich is our Judas. Just as Judas betrayed God by getting His son murdled, the Lich has betrayed God (or "the boss") by seeking to end all life. And just like Judas, he is condemned to an eternity of suffering at Satan's own hands.

The dream sequence at the beginning of Casper & Nova is also a very direct and probably deliberate reference to this circle of Hell. Aside from the three aforementioned traitors, those who commit treachery are frozen in ice in twisted and mangled positions. We see Simon in exactly this situation, when his frozen corpse is stuffed in the freezer. If he had put on the crown he would have been committing a massive act of treachery upon Betty, who sacrificed everything to make sure he would live as himself.

Cheers and the climb to Purgatory

In Inferno, Dante and Virgil begin the climb out of hell with the help of Satan himself. The journey up proves to be much easier than the journey down. The same happens to Simon; he is helped on his way home by GOLBetty, our Satan.

Having journeyed through Hell, our protagonist finds himself back on the familiar surface of Earth, but in a new place. For Dante this new place is Purgatory, where he must come to terms with his own sins. For Simon this new place is psychological but similar; he must reckon with the things he has learned about himself, chiefly his ignorance of Betty's desires and his aimless lust for her company, and move forward to a better place.

Conclusions

I have no education in classical literature and I'm sure all of this comes across as very surface level to someone who's actually studied these things, but I did my best.

Let me know if you've spotted any other parallels, or if you think there's a better way to sync up the various episodes/dimensions with the circles of Hell.

It could be confirmation bias but I think there was at least a little deliberate intent behind some of these parallels. Perhaps I should hold off on reading Purgatorio in case it spoils the potential season two for me...

#adventure time #fionna and cake #long post #the divine comedy

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orqheuss · 1 year ago

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Even the iron still fears the rot PART 5

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

This is definitely moving in a more "female rage" route...oops.

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Summary:

Sebastian mourns. Ominis dreams. You rage. A letter falls from the sky, bearing a single line of text, an ominous message, and a gift that sets your world ablaze. Let the games begin.

Word count: 6.6k

Tags: Self deprecating thoughts, actions similar to self-harm, mentions of torture, emetophobia, illness, infection, disassociation, arson, child abuse, verbal degradation regarding a physical disability, graphic depictions of injury, blood, nightmares, feminine rage (kind of. it's still mostly gender neutral)

Read at your own discretion

AN: Surprise! New part. There was already so much happening in this chapter, and I wanted the action to get its own spotlight. So, one more part. Sorry...

It had been a long flight back from Hogsmeade, probably the longest flight you had ever experienced. Tears clouded your vision as you flew, the small droplets following you like staccato music notes to your song of sorrow. You did not know how long you had stayed in that clearing, cradling a little black button against your chest as if it could tell you the secrets of the universe. Nothing could quell the anguish deep in your chest, throat hoarse from your wails and knees dirty, caked in mud and flecks of dried blood— the blood of your best friends. All you could think about was how scared Ominis and Sebastian must be, trapped somewhere for what must be nearly two days at this point, starving and cold and alone, so very alone without the thought of someone coming for them. They didn’t know how hard you were searching for them. They knew how much you cared for them— that you would do anything to keep them safe. It was a small comfort to think that they had hope of rescue. That being said, fear does fickle things to the mind, even to the strongest of people. You could only imagine the torment that they must be going through at the hands of the villains after you.

Desperate to erase the pain harbored in your chest, you flew. There were no feelings in the sky, no sadness in the wind caressing your face with its gentle gale. There was only freedom before you. Free from your binds as a Keeper of ancient magic— free from the responsibilities placed upon your shoulders before you even understood what they meant. You were much too young for this level of sadness, not even sixteen and having to deal with the possibility that your two best friends may very well die at the hands of your enemies. You shouldn’t even have enemies. You should be studying in the library with your friends, laughing with a confidence that could only be found in a young, obnoxiously mischievous teenager— like you were the sunlight that warmed the day and the moonrays that cooled the night. Instead, you were dealt cards that you had never seen before for a game that had no rules to follow.

Once you touched down on the grassy lawn of the bell tower courtyard, you were angry. More angry than you had ever felt before. A ravenous hunger for revenge scorched through your veins and licked at the ancient magic swirling in your chest, pushing and pulling the magic to and fro like it was trying to call forth an army of unimaginable disaster. Static swam in your ears against the pounding of your heart as you ran through the hallways of the imposing school, throwing yourself around corners and fighting against the crowds of students that were all too aware of the terrible fortune that has befallen your existence. All they saw was a poor, heartbroken bastard that had just lost their closest friends— a pitiful excuse of a human in search of a hopeless miracle. Fools, all of them. They didn’t know the velocity of pain slamming itself against your heart. They didn’t know that your world was falling apart faster than you could put the pieces back together. You could feel their whispers against your back, their eyes boring into your skin like you were a freak show in the traveling circus. The names of your lost loves followed you like a feral beast tracking the scent of blood. How dare they utter the names of your beloved. How dare they view you as helpless— as weak. For too long had these neanderthals viewed you as less than because of your house, your upbringing, your name. You would show them, you’d show them all.

Even still, under that blistering, that blinding anger, there was a deep and foreboding sadness inside of you. It called to you— implored you to cease the rapid pounding of your feet against the linoleum floor and quell the explosive hatred bubbling in your gut. You knew that it wasn’t the fault of any of your peers that Ominis and Sebastian had been taken. It was yours. You were the reason they were gone. If anyone deserved your ire, it was yourself. Skidding to a stop near the main entrance to the hall of Herodiana, you nearly dropped to your knees as the thought ricocheted through your brain like a bullet. The melancholy inside was right. It was your fault. There was no one else to blame but yourself. How could you be so dense? You were the one with ancient magic, after all. You had ended Ranrok and his rebellion. You had murdered Victor Rookwood. You had killed countless dark witches and wizards on your pillage towards righteousness. Who were you to think your power as something godly— something blessed by the saints, something divine? They had cast the first stone, but you had made it hale boulders. You needed to run, to hide from the outside world. You were a monster. An omen of death. Anyone close to you was as good as dead— Fate had made that fact inordinately clear.

Through it all, there was only one place you wanted to be, and that was cradled in the arms of your Slytherins.

Fortunately, if you could even call it that, there was another place that you could go to feel close to them. Just the thought of the Undercroft sent a pang of guilt through your chest, making your eyes move against your will to the lonely corner where your favorite blond liked to nap in the sunshine. Steel stronger than anything goblin forged grew cold in your eyes, the embers of the fresh metal dying out with only the sound of your shattering heart as fanfare. Grief and rage swirled in your gut like a demented, Hadestic hurricane. Fire threatened to spill from your panting lips with each step you took, your soul unable to even comprehend the pain resting just behind your teeth— the ache of grief— the burn of fury.

But still, on you ran— ran to the safety of the closest you could get to your home.

The gun-metal gate of the Undercroft creaked open with a sickening wail, like it too mourned the loss of its original owners. Your feet felt like lead as you finally skidded to a stop— your knees threatening to give up and let your weight tumble to the ground as waves of memories assaulted your mind. This was the room that you fell in love in; the room that held so much of your devotion to the two Slytherin boys you befriended what felt like years ago; how quickly they had wormed their way into your naive heart. It was a scary thought that they had this much power over you, even though it had only been a little over a year since you met the pair. Melancholia began to cloud your vision again, tears threatening to spill down your already reddened and wind-raw cheeks. At any other point you would think you were going insane with how often your emotions were shifting— anger, to despair, to worry, to anger again— sadangrysadangrysad— boundless, cosmic. But, for once the chaos felt right.

It felt like home.

Your footfalls were as loud as stone falling down a cliffside as you trudged around the space, your steps shaky and unsure like a newborn babe. To your right you could hear the ghost of Sebastian pouring over Slytherin’s spellbook— not a pleasant time, but how you loved the sound of his voice when he was excited. Just over your shoulder you felt the misty presence of Ominis as he practiced his potions. He was still rubbish at it, but it was rare to see him so disheveled, like an eclipse that only came around once in a lifetime— it was also quite cute when he scrunched his nose in frustration. You finally reached the desk you sat at so many times before, the three of you leaning over the roughly sanded wood with homework strewn across the surface as you argued over the answer to a Divination question you were all puzzled by. Everything was painful now; no happy feelings fluttering in your chest at the sight of the brunette’s discarded ties or the blond’s evergrowing collection of quick-note quills. Your heart ached at the realization that it was beginning to feel hopeless, like you would never feel happiness again for as long as you lived— you wouldn’t if you never saw their smiling faces once more. Just once, that was truly all you were asking for. Alas, the gods above did not grant miracles to people like you. They did not bless the heretics.

From inside your robe, the two wands tucked safely in your breast pocket burned.

An uncomfortable feeling began to grow in your chest, the feeling of despair soon taken over by an all encompassing rage. Flames licked at your ankles and ash grew thick in the air— you choked against the sludge building in your lungs. Even if the room was as cold as the Arctic, not a bit of heat in the large, echoing space, you felt like you were burning alive. With trembling hands, you gingerly— carefully— took the two magical instruments from your pocket and placed them onto the mahogany table.

The world did not end quietly for you that day. It was big, and loud, and infinite. It did not come from nowhere.

It came from you.

The only sound that could be heard over your heaving, ferocious breaths was the ricochet of crashing lumber against resolute stone. Screams lodged themselves in your throat as you furiously threw spell after spell around the space. Boxes lining the walls were sent splintering across the floor with one simple flick of your wrist, plooms of fire following soon after as you exploded the rubble. It was a catastrophe, that room. That once wonderful room that housed every piece of your joy— your true, unfiltered happiness. Now, your one remaining source of bliss was gone— ripped away from you far too soon. Your footsteps shook the ground as you paced across the space, your fingers frantically wracking through your hair and pulling at the roots, sending sparks of pain through your skull. The color around you seemed to fade into a blinding monochrome, painting your vision a startling black around the edges as your ire festered deep inside. If Ominis was here with you, he would chastise you for your incessant back and forth, grouchily complaining in that petulant tone of his that you were disturbing his peace; something he so rarely got, as he liked to remind you. You would smile in a sickeningly sweet way as you turned to face him, gesturing rudely before continuing your path. He would, somehow, know what you did, and would give you the same gesture in turn, a smirk turning the corners of his lips. Sebastian would laugh behind the pages of the thick tome he had decided to snatch from the library that day. You would tease him that if he kept reading like that he would need glasses one day soon. He would wave you off with a chuckle.

You could hear them all around you at that moment, the ghost of two complementary laughs filling the echoing space— one loud and boisterous, twinged the color of tree tops under your feet as you flew against the brilliant blue sky, one a subdued chuckle, jovial, but fragile, rare, mirth painting your world the color of sunsets over Loch Lomond.

How you longed to hear those sounds again.

Unable to hold it at bay any longer, the tsunami of your wails breached the delicate, raw skin at the back of your throat for the second time that day, sneaking through your tightly clenched teeth with small whimpers, each one increasing in volume as the seconds bloomed into minutes. Blood pooled in your mouth and threatened to make you choke on it.

Under all sounds, the two wands resting like sleep on the table hummed.

With one mighty breath— one deep and stuttered inhale, you screamed into the vast space. Your pain swam in the air like a thick granite-toned fog across the Clagmar coast, filling every corner of the room until you could only choke on the thick plumes. You wrenched the wands from the surface, each branch of wood still thrumming with the magic of its owner and carrying a distinct aura, something you once would have blushed at the notion of identifying so easily, and threw them across the room with every ounce of might you could muster. They bounced off the farthest wall from you before tumbling to the ground, the tiny sparks of magic sputtering out of each tip hissing against the dusty floor. You wanted to rip the world apart at the seams, scorch the very fabric of existence in your devastating rage. You wanted to devour the sky whole and spit out stars in its wake. Hell hath no fury like a lover scorned, and you did not fear Hell. You howled again, loud and long and lingering against the echoing cathedral ceilings as you wordlessly casted a spell of brimstone and fire. You held your wand steady in your hand, fingernails digging into your skin and drawing pebbles of blood to the surface, your steps turning your body in a small circle where you stood as you set every box, every table, every chair in the encompassing space ablaze. Flames roared to life around you as you fell to your knees within your personal pyre, sobs crescendoing to their highest peak as you mourned. Scattered papers fluttered to the ashen floor like embers in a steadily burning bonfire, tiny little stars reaching their hands upwards in hopes that they, too, would be looked at in wonder each night.

You were no closer to finding Ominis and Sebastian as you were when you first set off this morning. No clues could be found anywhere to signify where they could have gone— where they could have been taken. There was no guarantee if you would ever see them again.

A bit of parchment landed softly against where your hand was clenched on the ground— a touch of care in your monument of grief. Your eyes trailed downwards, catching on the smoldering corners of the piece of sheet music. A shaking hand entered your field of vision— yours, you realized— and hesitantly picked it up with vibrating fingers. Written neatly across the bars were the gentle curves of piano chords, each one tucked together like birds huddling for warmth in a tune you did not know. The handwriting was almost perfect, like it was printed in one of the many scores on the impressively stocked shelves of the music room, but there was still something distinctly imperfect; something alien, something human. Each note was slanted, like someone else was dictating what should be on the page and another noted it down. Some sections were crossed out ferociously, tiny dots of ink splattering with each harsh strike. Letting your eyes roam, new misty tears gathered on your lashes at the chicken scratch decorating the corner of the piece.

Property of Ominis, 1891.

You touched the ink gently, imagining it when it was freshly wet. Ominis did always like to write his name himself; everything else could be done with his quick-notes quill. There was something, he told you once, about writing out your own name on a piece of parchment. Labeling something with your identity in ink black as pitch and just as permanent. It was yours, he said. Not your families, not anyone else's. It belonged to you and you alone. He liked the idea of owning something that his family couldn’t touch.

The blond had notated one section, right near the end of the set of bars and crescendoing into the next, that garnered your attention. Someone else had drawn a crooked arrow that pointed to one of the half notes, a single sentence following just within the margin of the page.

This note is wrong.

The lettering was swirled slightly, like someone decided to learn cursive but gave up halfway through the lessons. The writer had a heavy hand; tiny drops of ink decorated the loops of their i’s and g. Each word was written like the person had something better to do, something more to jot down as their brain moved faster than their hand. A tear dripped onto the page, smudging the lettering as you recognized the handwriting.

Sebastian.

Just under it, another scratched sentence— the letters perfectly imperfect.

You can’t even read sheet music, you walnut.

Such a little thing, such a small detail, but oh how it meant the world to you. How much sorrow you could feel from two scribbles of words on a bit of parchment.

To anyone looking in from the outside, they would only see your grief. They would see your mourning in the tears that streaked down your ash covered cheeks— your agony in the wrinkles and dusty fingerprints adorning the pretty pastel yellow sweater under your tweed coat. They did not know the truth, though. You were out of tears— out of sobs and wails. All you felt now was blinding, incapacitating rage. You wanted to cry more, to scream and rip the paper clutched in your hands to shreds and wait until the universe granted you this one wish: to bring your boys home to you. But, there was no more time for that— no more wishes to come true, no more room inside of you for anything other than outrage. Fury. Hatred.

Revenge.

And so you stood up on your shaking legs, casting a wordless water charm to put out your flames. Your eyes glowed as the pyre dimmed, leaving only ash and ruin. True, opaque smoke tumbled towards the peaked roof of the hideaway, curling around each other with a sizzle and stray spark— an Oroborous of cataclysmic size. From within the circle of your own destruction, you couldn’t help but think that the room looked morbidly beautiful.

With the last iota of grace you could muster, you tucked the piece of music into your pocket, gingerly picking up the discarded wands once again— relishing just a bit in the warmth that still resided in each piece of magical bark— and tucked them where they should be in your pocket.

A wolfish, wicked grin stretched across your face as you stared at the carnage you made. Your shoulders straightened— dangerously so, unnaturally so. A new sparkle grew in your eyes— something deadly and unfamiliar, but so damn right.

If a fight was what they wanted, a fight is what they would get.

You were a beast— bloodthirsty with an insatiable appetite for slaughter.

You were not an option. You were inevitable. A horror beyond their comprehension. An omen. A threat. They would soon understand that. You would make them understand that.

They would pray for mercy with their pretty words, and then you would sink your teeth into their throat and rip each of them out until there was nothing left.

It was a common occurrence for Sebastian to take care of Ominis after his nightmares. It was amazing that he didn’t have to do it more often, honestly. He was always a perceptive boy; it was one of his best assets. So, when Ominis would wake up in the dead of the night, his breathing heavy and panting with a sheen of sweat coating his clammy skin, it wasn’t hard to figure out the young Gaunt’s secret. For the longest time the boy refused to tell Sebastian anything— he was ever so insecure, after all, and he did not want anyone to know that about him. But even still, the brunette slowly, carefully, chipped away at his barriers piece by piece until the blond would let him crawl into bed with him and hush his muffled cries.

It took him even longer to pry what the nightmares were about out of the boy— nearly three years of waking to Ominis screaming himself conscious. Sebastian knew that the Gaunt family was not a kind one. Being a pureblood wizard himself, just not of the same pedigree, as the sacred family would say, he was well aware of the politics surrounding blood purity and the cruelty of the families that practiced those types of ideals. What he did not know was how unfeeling they could be towards their own children. The Sallow family was one of love— happiness. Joy seeped through the cracks in their threadbare manor by the coast and coated every inch of their meager belongings. He learned of care, of family, of belonging— most importantly, he learned what it meant to learn. There was never a night that his mother and father did not bid the twins goodnight without a kiss on the head and a story. Ominis did not grow like that. The Gaunt house was cold, both physically and emotionally. It rested atop of a lone hill just on the outskirts of wizard London, the walls as tall as the clouds and the wards surrounding the property even higher— a house of ghosts. He never knew what it meant to play, to run through the grass and jump into the creek just beyond his fence. Instead, he learned of pain, of neglect, and, of course, of fear. The one thing that they had in common was that they both learned the meaning of the word “family,” even if they had been taught very different definitions.

So, when Ominis awoke in the middle of the night with a howl trapped in his throat and a plea of mercy towards his father at the tip of his tongue, Sebastian did not ask any questions. It was not a time for answers, it was a time for comfort. For care. For kindness.

After the screams had subsided and the tears had dried on the blonds boney cheeks, it was some of the most peaceful times the two boys had ever shared.

Sebastian was warmth to Ominis. He was hugs in the middle of the night and waking up to his arm around his waist. He was the calm after the tremulous storm in his mind. And in turn, Ominis was Sebastian’s balm. He kept the heat within him from roaring out in a grand blaze with a simple touch of his hand. He was his beginnings and his ends— his softly whispered fable in front of the common room fireplace. Above all else, he was his good.

It killed them both inside, a little bit more each second that passed, that they couldn’t comfort the other. Ominis had expressed his anguish last night as he listened to Sebastian’s shaky breaths and the stuttered rhythm of his heart as he drifted into a sickly sleep. Now, it was the freckled boy’s turn to listen out for the other. For the longest time he wasn’t sure if the blond was even alive; his chest was that still. It took an hour at least— an hour of the youngest Sallow twin sobbing and calling out for his love— for Ominis to make the smallest sound. Sebastian didn’t hear it at first against the pounding in his skull. His skin was a sickly pale color at that point, sweat beading at his brow and trailing down the sides of his face even though it was hellishly cold in their dismal prison. Tremors shook his entire body, fighting against the hot that scorched just under his skin and the chill that permeated the air around him. The infection was getting worse. Much, much, worse. It was a miracle that he was still conscious— a miracle or his death. He would take either at that point.

Awash in terror and sickeningly macabre thoughts, it took him a moment to register movement from the other side of the room. He didn’t believe it at first; it must have been a trick of the light, or the breeze blowing through the dungeon had simply tossed Ominis’ hair like a lover smoothing it away from his face. But sure enough, his chest had begun to rise and fall at a faster rate. His breath pushed out of his bruised lungs with much more effort than what was normal. The tiny puffs of air coiled around the bars of his cage like a soul swallowed by the demons of Azkaban. Sebastian’s own panting stilled in his throat, finally registering that the blond was alive. Joy felt like the wrong emotion to be feeling then, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile that pressed at the corners of his mouth— couldn’t stop the nearly soundless laugh that tumbled from the very depths of his heart. How could he feel anything but elation knowing that Ominis had survived what some of the strongest Auror’s could not? Stars, he loved him. He loved him more than the sun loved the moon— more than ships loved a lighthouses song just off the shore. If his light was alive, if he was okay, then by Salazar, he could do anything. Sebastian felt the familiar feeling of hope fill his chest with butterflies for the first time in a very long while.

That was, until he heard the sounds coming from the boy just out of reach.

They started quiet, like the buzz of a crackling coal in a still fire. Tiny whimpers— the smallest iota of a sound. But then, they got louder. The coals caught ablaze once more, drowning the suffocating silence of their downy prison with clipped screams and harsh whines. It sounded like it pained the blond to even utter the noises breaching through his chattering teeth. The chilling realization washed over Sebastian like the icy waters of the black lake— Ominis was trapped in a nightmare. His heart sank once more, dread pooling just under his jaw and threatening to tear its way out of his sweat and dirt marred throat with its deadly sharp claws. He wanted nothing more than to take the young Gaunt into his arms and hold him close— to press his face against his blood soaked hair and shush his cries into the clammy skin at his collar.

That was Leona’s greatest torture, he realized. Keeping them apart. Just out of fingers reach.

His hope bled from him like the sea bled moonlight, and he let his body fall onto the stone wall just at his back, head resting in his shaking palms as his fingers fisted at his greasy, knotted hair. Soft sobs filled the still air once again.

Please, he prayed, hoping that his voice would somehow carry to the tall castle that seemed to be on the other side of the world. Please, come save us.

The nightmares always started the same. He was in the halls of the Gaunt manor, the dismal aura surrounding him stealing the joy from his soul and crushing his lungs with its banshee-like claustrophobia. He could feel the harsh grip of his older brother at his shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into his velvet dinner jacket and pressing bruises deep into his skin. He wasn’t sure what to make of the attention at first. Before it truly registered in his mind, it was almost familial the way Marvolo wrapped his arm around Ominis’ taut shoulders, steering him away from his path towards the library and instead leading him deeper and deeper into the foreboding manor halls. No words were spoken between the two— conversation was rare between the pair… between any of the Gaunt leaders and the small boy, really. He was a pariah in his own home. The black sheep hiding in a den of wolves.

Ominis recalled it being a fairly normal day. He had had tea with his dear Aunt Noctua just an hour before, only stopping their conversation when the sun had begun to set and the air around them had begun to chill. That was when he found himself meandering his way towards the grand library at the center of his abode. That is, until his brother so rudely interrupted him. He remembered feeling unsure at the sudden attention from the elder Gaunt sibling. Marvolo tended to ignore him as of late, instead favoring his father’s company as they discussed his work at the Ministry. He was quite curious as to where the taller of the two was taking him, but he knew better than to ask questions, instead electing to simply follow and see what panned out. All he knew was that his brother’s fingers felt piercing against his skin.

The memory played out behind his eyes like a moving picture on the tall walls. It was one of those rare nightmares that Ominis could minutely picture what was happening around him. While he did not have the gift of sight, he had an active imagination when it came to visible stimuli. The halls of Gaunt manor, as he had been told before, were painted a muted olive tone with silver embellishments along the vaulted ceilings and dangling chandeliers above his head— like the sound of leaves rustling in the trees on a fall evening. The walls were lined with sentient pictures of his ancestors, dating all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself. He did not know what his family truly looked like, but he knew some small specifics. Soft yellow hair, nearly white in some lantern light. Strong features across their pointed faces. Unnervingly blue eyes and a haunting stare to match. All things that he had in common with everyone on his family tree— more of a tangled bush than anything, he liked to joke to himself. They were unusually quiet that night, not even a whisper of a scathing remark about his impairment to be heard in the hushed hallway.

Strange, Ominis had mused to himself.

The vision shifted then, the green and silver foyer falling away to a dark and dismal room. The air was startlingly still in the youngest Gaunt’s ears, not even the softest breeze could be felt in the echoing space. Everything around him was black— no description to go off of in his mind for what he was experiencing. There were others in the room, but even they were silent. He could smell his mothers strong perfume, something heady and obnoxious in his sensitive nose. The harsh smell of his fathers cigars mingled unpleasantly with the scent of the overly powdery notes. Beyond them he could place something unfamiliar— something striking and metallic, like old galleons at the bottom of a coin purse. It reminded him of when he had scraped his knee earlier in the week on the patio outside. Copper. Iron.

His breathing stilled in his chest.

Blood.

It was then that he heard the panting breaths off to his left, the cadence foreign to anyone in his bloodline. The breathing was shallow in nature, with a slight stutter between hisses of pain. He could not sense any new magic signatures in the space. Something was wrong. Very, very, wrong.

His father stepped forwards then, pulling him from his brother’s grasp and replacing the bite of Marvolo’s fingers with his own as he steered him farther into the room. He led him to what he thought was the middle of the room before letting go and turning to face the boy, his form towering over Ominis like a dragon to a simple goat. The boy fought against the shiver that threatened to move through him at the intensity of the Gaunt patriarch’s stare.

“Ominis.” His father’s gravelly tone scratched at his ears. “It is time that you prove your worth in this family.”

He was puzzled. Had he not done so already? He was their flesh and blood. Surely that was enough?

“What do you mean, father?” He said, confusion lacing his young voice.

Annoyance shed from every corner of the room— all three of his closest family members. His anxiety began to subtly increase, a knot beginning to form in his throat. Had he said something wrong?

“I mean,” his father hissed. “It is time that we show you why we are the strongest, the most widely known, the most feared wizarding family to date.”

The stillness around him was cut by the sharp swipe of Erebus Gaunt’s wand as he threw the first spell.

“Crucio.”

Ominis had never heard screams that loud before. They were sharp, painful, terrified. He covered his ears against the harshness of it, his eyes slamming shut as he processed what just happened. There were two distinct voices calling out, he noticed. One higher— feminine. The other lower in tone and with a more masculine lilt. They wailed in agony from the spell, its electric current pulsing in their bodies as it burned away the blood in their veins. Pleas of mercy filled the room like a never ending current. The boy’s arms were ripped away from his head, forcing him to listen to every sound of anguish. Each howl was like a blinding light straight into his frontal cortex. Tears pooled in his eyes at the pure agony soaking him to the bone.

Just as quickly as it began, it was over. The youngest Gaunt’s body trembled in place as silence bathed the room in blackness once again.

His voice shook against the words escaping from his clamped throat. “What— what was that?”

Marvolo’s voice came from over his shoulder. “Pest control.”

Ominis’ heart nearly gave out when he grasped his brother’s meaning. Muggles.

He shook his head rapidly, taking two stumbling steps back before bumping into the strong chest of his father. Two hands clamped down roughly on his shoulders, holding him in place. All the puzzle pieces floating around in his muddled mind fit together with a sickening click.

“No.” He breathed, his panic growing stronger and stronger by each passing second. “No! I won’t do it! This is too much— you’re asking too much!”

His father’s grip tightened, his fingernails digging fresh indents into his collar. “You will not question your father, boy.” He spit the word like an insult.

Ominis shook his head, fighting against the arms holding him in place. Frightened tears spilled down his cheeks. All he could hear against the blood pounding in his ears was the weak cries of the couple at his feet, begging him for mercy.

His mother finally spoke, her voice resigned and twinged with irritation. “Just get on with it, Erebus. We haven’t got all night.”

His father growled above him. “You will hold your tongue, Catarina.” He turned his attention back to the shivering boy clamped under his bruising grip. “Cast the spell, boy. I will not ask twice.”

Ominis felt a slender piece of wood be shoved into his hand.

He shook his head again, terror flooding his tiny, ten-year-old body. “Please, father. Don’t make me do this.” He dropped the wand onto the floor, listening to it roll away from his feet.

As quickly as it began it was over. His father released him, harshly shoving him to the cold granite ground. The blond caught himself before his face hit, his hands outstretched and nearly sliding away against the blood that bloomed across the floor. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Erebus Gaunt’s footsteps rang in his ears as he paced away from his hunched form, the thumps only ceasing for a moment as they were replaced by the clatter of wood against tile. His deep, foreboding sigh filled the entire room like the hiss of a snake.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, boy.” He said, his tone almost sounded sympathetic if Ominis didn’t know any better. “Know that it was you who forced my hand.”

He could only puzzle what it meant for a stagnant moment before his entire world came crashing down around him.

“Crucio!”

Pain. Unimaginable pain. Excruciating. Constant. Incapacitating. That was all he felt. That and betrayal— heartbreak. Never had they hurt him like this before. Nothing physical, at least. Words can leave just as harsh of a sting on your soul as hands can. This was new, though. His very being was on fire, like the strings that kept him tied together inside were being ripped apart by the hands of the Fates. His blood boiled under his skin— his tongue felt like it was as thick as fresh cotton and as heavy as steel. It was a miracle he didn’t bite through it. The magic licked at every bit of him, every pore and hair follicle, like a rabid dog. He had never been burned before, but Ominis was sure that even the touch of the hottest coals in all of Tartarus itself would hurt less than this. If he was able to see before this, he would be twice as blind by the end. He was sure that if he opened his eyes— his mouth— his insides would leak out like melting ice at the bottom of a glass.

Through it all, he thought he heard a scream. A small part of him hoped it was his mother, begging father to stop. Only when the pain finally ceased and he felt how raw his throat had become did he realize he was only hearing himself.

The tinkle of wood against the granite mosaic was familiar to him now when his father dropped the wand next to his trembling hand. The world felt muddled around him— too much, but also too little against his skin.

“I tell you again, Ominis.” His father’s voice was like shattering glass. “Prove to me that you are worthy of the life we are providing you.”

As much as his heart bled— his soul screamed and pleaded against the hand wrapping around the wand— he knew that this was life or death now. Torture or be tortured— kill or be killed. He stood on shaky legs, a hand clenched around his stomach like his insides would tumble to the floor if he relieved the pressure there. His already overactive senses kicked into overdrive. The blood covering his once pristine clothes smelled twice as strong as before. The sobs of the poor muggles his family had taken from their home grated against his ringing ears with a startling clarity. The wood in his left hand— much too big for his small fingers— felt like a ten pound weight. Everything was too much. He had to make it stop— everything had to stop.

All he wanted was for it to stop.

He cast the spell.

This all was the same, of course. Every nightmare was the same.

This one, though, was an anomaly.

Because, instead of the voices of the two muggles that he was forced to torture, all he heard was the screams of you and Sebastian.

From the sky came a note. Nothing special— no identifiable penmanship, no return address, no nomenclature. Just your name printed neatly across the front.

Inside the old, yellowed envelope were two things. One, a letter— a scrawl of some coordinates and the request to come alone, all signed with a swirled see you soon.

Huddled at the bottom, tucked into one of the corners, was the second thing— two things, really. Tied neatly together with a piece of twine, a delicate bow decorating it like a present on Christmas, was a bundle of hair. White and brown.

The wind around you howled as you summoned your broom to your hand. A storm was brewing— you didn’t know which was stronger, the one in the air, or the one inside of you.

Whomever sent the letter would find out soon enough. You thought about where you would hurt them first. As you kicked off the ground, the frigid gale answered everywhere.

AN: The wait won't be that long again, I promise!! Next part will be the last.

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