#& STILL immediately recognized him when i spotted him in the distance

[pa-pa-plasma]

it's 5am & i cant sleep cuz i keep thinking about him

#my favourite character in the loz series........ Spinch #cant stop thinking about him #i literally didnt play botw for a couple years or so #& started a new game in 2022 #& STILL immediately recognized him when i spotted him in the distance #was like ''IS THAT SPINCH????'' & raced over to say hi #cant get enough of this dude #i named my cat after him. but no one wants to say the name Spinch :( #my family keeps saying ''i am NOT calling him that'' & then calling him Ralphie #like no. his name is SPINCH. & if you cant say it that's because you arent good enough to behold the Spinches

[thethingswedotomorrow]

Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable boyfriends #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable #otp: ineffable #ineffable idiots #good omens crowley #good omens aziracrow #good omens aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley good omens #crowley x aziraphale #good omens fic #good omens headcanon #good omens fluff #crowley aziraphale #aziracrow #crowly x aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #aziraphel #azicrow #azirowley #good omens headcanons #good omens hc #fluff #go2 #good omens 2

[daisynik7]

I could even learn how to love like you

There’s a certain type of peace you find in the mundanity of the typical morning commute. The soothing whirring of the railway, the chill of metal against your fingers wrapped around the handholds, even the odd comfort of being surrounded by strangers who are equally as half asleep as you are, willing to shuffle the slightest bit to make room for new passengers. Sure, it’s a nuisance for the most part, but it’s your tiny pocket of harmony before the usually stressful workday. A routine you’ve grown accustomed to, something you can rely on to stay the same in this ever-changing society. 

Change is never a bad thing, though. And sometimes, it takes a stranger on the train to show you that.

He immediately captures your attention the first time you see him. Tan business suit, straight posture, hair neatly parted, stoic expression etched on his face. The typical salary man heading to his office job in the city. While his stature is most-impressive, it’s his tie that piques your interest, a spotted pattern akin to leopard print. A splash of pizzazz on an otherwise ordinary outfit. 

He maneuvers his way to you, wrapping his fist around the same pole you’re holding, his grip a safe distance above yours. He glances at you through his spectacles, giving you a short nod to acknowledge you. You return this with a small smile, and when you notice he doesn’t have any headphones in, you say, “I like your tie.” You normally wouldn’t speak to anyone here, most people too immersed in their preferred choice of media, like music or the news. Something tells you that straying from your usual habits might be good for you today.

The second of silence where he’s processing what you said scares you; maybe you’ve become a bother for him in this already troublesome commute. Then, he clears his throat, his gaze flickering at you for the briefest moment before it focuses on the floor. “Thank you.”

The conversation ends there. In fact, that’s your entire interaction throughout the remainder of the journey. Your station arrives before his and you leave without another word. It’s neither awkward nor extraordinary. Still, the moment doesn’t stop replaying in your memory the rest of the day. You wonder if you’ll get a chance to see him on the way home, knowing the chances are slim. Schedules vary, there are many different sections of the train. The stars would have to align just right for you to be reunited with this stranger. Despite the improbability of it all, you allow yourself to be hopeful. The little taste of excitement this morning has you craving more. 

~~~

Two days pass until Nanami meets you again. Maybe he does it subconsciously, maybe it’s intentional, but he finds himself gravitating towards you. When he places his hand above yours on the pole, in similar fashion to the last time, he gives his usual nod, unsure if you recognize him.

You beam at him. “Good morning!”

He doesn’t say anything else; he’d only be pestering you with trivial conversation. Though he can’t help watching from his peripheral as you scroll through pictures of delicious food on your phone. He notices you screenshot the ones that include recipes in the description, causing him to grin to himself at how he does the same. The urge to comment is in the back of his throat, the tip of his tongue. Getting it out proves to be difficult, and he knows why. Nanami made a vow to himself ever since he returned to being a Jujutsu Sorcerer: don’t fall in love. He’s completely aware of how dangerous his job is, how his life is at risk every single mission he’s sent on. It’s what he signed up for, the life he’s currently committed to. There’s no room for attachment, for love. It's easier for him to avoid it altogether, even if it means swallowing down a simple hello on the train. It’s better this way. And quite frankly, he isn’t sure if he’s even capable of loving the way others do. His heart has become so callous throughout the years that there’s no chance at it ever softening, he’s sure of it. Perhaps the flutter in his chest at the smile you flash him is a coincidence, nothing more. 

This theory is soon debunked. 

Nanami is especially tired after today’s mission. Heading home, he manages to secure a row of empty seats and plops himself down, resting his head back, sighing. He closes his eyes, listening to the usual hustle and bustle of rush hour, resisting every temptation to fall asleep. Missing his stop would put a damper on his already foul mood. 

Eventually, the automated voice announces your stop. For whatever reason, he made it a point to remember it when you hopped off this morning, just two away from his. When he feels someone sit beside him, he peeks with one eye open, curious. 

“Hi.” You smile softly at him, eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “It’s you.”

While Nanami is guarded and closed off from people outside his intimate circle, he’s never rude. He has no other choice but to respond to you, ignoring the obvious thump in his chest at your endearing greeting. “Hello.” He tries his best to convince himself that this unfamiliar flutter surrounding him is some sort of medical condition that needs proper diagnosis and not affection towards a beautiful stranger on the train. Stiffening in his seat, he pretends not to be intrigued by the food magazine you start flipping through, secretly studying the way you fold the corners of all the recipes you want to save for later. 

Halfway into the ride, he actually does fall asleep, only rousing awake when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he catches you staring at him guiltily. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I think your stop is coming next and I didn’t want you to miss it.”

He sits up straight, readjusting his tie, clearing his throat before he replies, “Thank you.” Sure enough, the automated voice from the speaker announces that they’ll be approaching his stop next. Slightly disoriented from his nap, he stands up, grasping the nearest handhold tight. His mind is racing, body itching to say something more, say anything more. Before he can, the train comes to a halt. The doors open and without another glance, he’s gone. 

Nanami spends the entire fifteen minutes of his walk home attempting to quell the stir of emotions inside him, from guilt to giddiness, all over the simple fact that you’ve memorized his stop. That you’re paying attention to him just as he is with you. 

~~~

This time, he’s the first to greet you, offering a polite nod before he grabs onto the same pole that you’re occupying. “Good morning.”

You’ve been boarding this particular section ever since you started seeing him, hoping he’d do the same. “Hello, stranger,” you respond with a grin, unable to contain your happiness.

He holds his other hand out to you. “Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You state your name in similar fashion, shaking his hand. His skin is rough against yours, though his grip is gentle. You let go of him, dropping your arm to your side, fingers tingling. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not,” he says with a small smile. And it’s enough to send you into a tizzy. 

Conversation is easy with him. He mentions the magazine you were reading the other day, expressing his mutual interest in food. From there, the two of you talk about your favorite restaurants and eateries around the area, giving your best recommendations. Because of all the ambient noise, you lean in close to one another to hear each other properly. The gap between your hands on the pole is shorter by the time your stop approaches. You’re prepared to bid him a reluctant farewell, so it surprises you when he follows you off. “Is this your stop too?” you ask him, though you already know it isn’t. 

He shakes his head, fixing his tie idly. “My office is fifteen minutes from here. I want to get a quick walk in before I start work.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with me?” you tease him, smirking.

He gazes into your eyes. “Maybe it’s that too.”

This is the start of a new and exciting routine for you, one that involves Nanami. You’ll spend the morning together, talking to each other in the middle of the crowded train. Then, he’ll walk you to your office building, where he leaves you with a cordial bow. You’re reunited during rush hour, sitting next to each other sharing either the newspaper he brings along with him or the new issue of a magazine you’re subscribed to. You’ll even rip out recipes for him to keep, which he tucks safely in his pocket. When he’s too tired from the workday, he’ll close his eyes, his head falling just shy of your shoulder. It all seems silly and insignificant, but to you, it’s special. 

Your relationship never goes beyond this. The two of you don’t talk about work, you never ask questions about the new injuries on his hands or the minor scrapes on his face. The idea of being anything other than acquaintances who commute together terrifies you, and you have a strong sense that it terrifies him as well. While it would be nice to be in love, you’re not confident if you can give that to him. 

It's only after Nanami stops coming when you realize that maybe you can love him. 

On Thursday, the morning after Halloween, the commute takes longer than usual due to a mysterious incident in Shibuya that the media hasn’t disclosed fully. You listen carefully to the gossip surrounding the train. According to the elder folks, it has something to do about “the hooligans” partying too hard on Halloween. The younger generation of passengers chalk it up to some conspiracy about magical entities attacking civilians to lure other magical entities. You’re not sure what to believe, and whatever is the truth doesn’t matter once you realize Nanami hasn’t boarded at his usual stop. The delays don’t help your anxiety as you spend the remainder of the ride wondering where he could be, why he hasn’t shown up, if he’s okay. 

You follow the same routine as best as you can, frequenting the same section as you usually do, holding onto the same pole, which is lonely now without his presence. On the way home, you place your bag in the seat beside you, saving it for him if there’s ever the slim chance he does show up. You continue to tear recipes from the magazines you would normally read with him, placing them inside a small envelope marked with his name, ready to present to him if you ever do see him again. To show him that you never stop thinking about him even in his absence. 

Nothing is ever revealed about what really happened in Shibuya. The general consensus is that whatever danger emerged on that Halloween night is no longer a threat and that the citizens of Tokyo are once again safe. And based on the timing of Nanami’s sudden disappearance, you believe that he’s part of the reason for that. It’s the only solace you find in this otherwise heartbreaking situation. Still, you hold out hope. For what? You’re not sure until two months later when Nanami returns to your life. 

~~~

It takes one month for Nanami to be discharged from the hospital. He was admitted two days following Halloween, after Ieiri performed all she could with her abilities to aid him with his injuries. But he’s alive, they all are. The Jujutsu sorcerers succeeded at defeating Kenjaku and all his minions, thwarting whatever horrible fate they had in store for Tokyo, potentially the entire world. They won. 

However, their triumph came with a cost. The Shibuya Incident left him permanently scarred on the left side and one eye lost forever. Rehabilitation has been grueling the past few weeks, struggling to come to terms with this battered body. He’s received unyielding support from his colleagues who he shares this trauma with. Despite this, there’s something missing, someone missing in his life. He thinks about you much more than he ought to, wondering if you’ve noticed his absence, if it’s affected you at all. Ever the pessimist, Nanami has convinced himself that you have forgotten about him, even after all the tiny, special moments you’ve shared together. It’s better this way, he knows that. After all, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what love is or how to love somebody. 

Still, he’d like to see you again, just to know that you’re doing alright. 

Another month passes before he musters the courage to be out in public again. Because of the winter season, he can hide as much of himself without rousing any suspicion. A large coat, mittens on his hands, a scarf around his neck, a mask to cover the burn scars. He dons his usual spectacles, hoping to conceal the eyepatch draped across his hollow socket. Ever since the incident, he’s felt like a monster, unable to reveal himself to strangers oblivious to the true events of that night. 

He finally boards the train, stepping foot in the usual section as he would going home, searching for a familiar face. There you are, as beautiful as ever, sitting in the same seat, your bag occupying the one beside you. You look up, your eyes meeting his, holding onto his gaze a split second longer than expected before you focus back on the magazine laid out on your lap.

It takes everything in him to deny the swell in his chest, the tiniest sliver of hope fluttering in his belly at the thought of you recognizing him. Before he loses his composure, he takes his place on the empty row across from you, enough distance to observe you inconspicuously. That’s all he intends to do, nothing more. 

As much as his world has been shaken, he’s comforted by you flipping through your magazine as usual, your life continuing normally as it should. However, he can’t help feeling a deep sadness, knowing he’s not a part of it anymore. 

Once again, you prove his assumptions wrong.

His eye widens, intrigued by you grinning at a particular page, carefully tearing it from the binding, something you used to do this for him not too long ago. He watches with bated breath as you retrieve from your bag a marked envelope already teeming with what he assumes are other recipes from previous issues. You add the new one with a delighted expression, making sure to close the flap for a temporary seal. And clear as day on the front of the envelope, even with his obscured vision, is his name written on the front. 

He sits up straight at this, his full attention on this seemingly insignificant discovery. This captures your attention, the inkling you had earlier validated. It’s him. The stature, the posture, those distinct steampunk glasses. You didn’t want to be wrong, so you didn’t say anything, trying to stifle your quickening heartbeat. But you’ve been waiting two months for this reunion, yearned for it more than anything. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you stand up, traversing towards him until you’re an arms-length away, gripping a pole tightly to steady yourself. “Nanami?”

Panic sinks in as he decides to reveal himself to you, anticipating the shock and terror in your face when you see what he looks like now. He removes the mask slowly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your reaction surprises him. With that same warm smile he’s missed so much, you sit down beside him, unfazed by the scars. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Love is standing close on a crowded train to keep each other company. Love is getting off at the wrong stop to spend more time together. Love is magazine clippings in an envelope with his name on it. Love is seeing all the broken pieces of him and still finding him completely beautiful. 

Nanami is certain now that he could learn how to love like you. 

Author's Note: This is the final installment of the past lives vignettes series. It’s a bit cheesy, but I really wanted to explore the aspect of “missed connections” and I thought strangers on the train would be perfect to do that. Title inspired by the song “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are never expected, always appreciated. Thanks for reading. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

[luxaofhesperides]

Please continue ghostlights multiverse constant au with Earth 0 having a happy ending together cuz halfa Danny is impossible to really kill anymore pleaseeeeeee 😭

(part one)

Danny is destined to die once he meets Duke. He knows this; he’s seen how their friendship leads to Danny’s death is so many different lives. There’s no doubt in his mind that the only way to ensure Danny lives a long life is to stay away from him.

Which is why the universe decides to make Danny pop up constantly. It’s clearly trying to get him killed, and Duke refuses to let that happen!

It starts innocently enough. They cross paths briefly at a bus stop, bumping into each other as Duke gets off the bus and Danny moves to go on it. He recognizes Danny immediately, feels a little spark go through him when their shoulders brush against each other. Something in him says I know you. I miss you.

He pulls back a step and offers a quick apology. Danny waves it off and looks at him as through searching for something. He opens his mouth to say something, but Duke can feel the threads of fate tighten around their throats and hurries away. 

He waits until he hears the bus pull away, then glances behind him to watch it go before he slows down to a normal walking pace and heads for the mall where he planned to meet his friends. 

Duke’s heart pounds in his chest. He can’t get Danny’s eyes out of his head; so painfully blue, so nostalgic, so doomed. 

This is for the best, he reminds himself. This is so Danny can live. That’s all that matters.

The moment’s passed, anyways. They’re still strangers, and they’ll stay that way. 

He takes another minute to collect himself, then plasters on a smile and heads into the mall to find his friends.

The next six times, Duke has to save Danny as the Signal, appearing just in time to stop a mugging, an armed store robbery, a car trying to run Danny over, and fighting off Man-Bat who, for some reason, took one look at Danny and went fuck this guy, actually.

Duke is stressed. He’s Stressed™ and if anyone tries to take out Danny again he’s just going to start screaming. 

For whatever reason, the universe is just out to get Danny now that they’ve run into each other once. Duke’s life is a cosmic joke, and he’s stuck in the center of it all waiting for the moment comedy turns into tragedy. 

It’s gotten to the point that Duke expects to find Danny in some sort of dangerous situation as soon as he starts patrol. He’s starting to dread going out, but he needs to; Gotham needs the Signal to keep the streets safe during the day, and Danny needs Duke to save his incredibly unlucky ass nearly every single day.

The first two hours go fine. He stops an armed robbery and a car jacking, chases away some creeps from the working girls, and gets a blueberry muffin from the bakery that’s been around forever, on account of the old woman running it thinking he’s a good lad who needs to eat more.

Duke begins to hope that he’ll have a quiet patrol. He begins to hope that Danny is safe and not in mortal danger for once.

His hopes are immediately dashed when he spots Danny on a rooftop, standing way too close to the edge.

Heart in his throat, Duke crosses the space between them in an instant, slingshotting himself forward through shadows.

He intends to pull Danny back, to say something, to try and shake some common sense into him so he actually has a chance at living a long life. Duke doesn’t get to do any of that; as soon as he steps out of the shadows, Danny turns to face him with a tired smile.

“There you are,” he says. “I knew you’d find me.”

“What? I—listen, can you step back from the ledge for me?”

Danny steps back, keeping his eyes on Duke. He doesn’t seem to mind that the Signal is so hesitant in this moment, keeping his distance. 

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he says, as if he never stopped talking, “But I had a feeling. You’ve probably had it too, right? It’s why we keep being pushed together, and why my luck has been so awful ever since I came to Gotham.”

He knows, is the first thing Duke things. But how can that be? If Danny knows about all those other universes where they had each other, then he knows how it ends. If he knows, then he should be trying to keep his distance from both Duke and the Signal before he gets killed.

“It’s you under that mask, isn’t it? Duke.”

The way Danny says his name brings him back to all those other lives where they had each other from the start. He sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s always known Duke.

It’s only when Duke says, “How?” that Danny falters, fear briefly crossing his expression before it settles into something more neutral. His fingers begin to pull at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, confidence melting away. 

“Do you… not know me?”

The quietness of his voice, the fragility of it, breaks Duke’s heart. He doesn’t stop to think before he answers, “I know you. Of course I know you, Danny.” Then he blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Wait. No. I know of you. We haven’t really met this life.”

“It’s the dreams, right? They make things so confusing.”

“You’ve been getting them too?”

“I may be the cause of them,” Danny says with a wince. “Due to some, uh… ghostly magic shenanigans. It wasn’t on purpose! But it is kinda my fault.”

Ghostly magic? Okay, sure, why not. Who is Duke to judge the bizarre things that exist in their world. He has superpowers and his biological father is an evil immortal. He has absolutely no leg to stand on when it cames to the weird and the unexpected. Might as well roll with it, since this is his life now.

Besides, there’s more important things to focus on, such as: “Okay, so, just to be on the same page, you’ve been getting the same dreams as me, yeah? The ones where you always die? Those dreams?”

And Danny, very casually, answers, “Yeah.”

“Dude,” Duke says, pained, “If you know that meeting me leads to your death, then why are you seeking me out?!”

“What?”

“Have you not seen how you die young in every single universe? Because I have! And it’s messing me up!”

Danny blinks at him, then looks guilty, hunching in on himself. “Oh, yeah. That. Uh, yeah, so…” he trails off and bites his lip, gaze kept downwards so he doesn’t have to meet Duke’s eyes. “I do die young always, yeah, but it’s totally not your fault! I just do that!”

“You just do that,” Duke repeats, pained. 

“Yeah. I just die young.”

“Is this somehow not a problem for you.”

To his immense displeasure, Danny has the nerve to shrug and say, “Eh, not really.”

“Danny.”

“It’s okay! Really!” Danny says, a little frantically, “And also it has nothing to do with you! None of my deaths have been your fault, it’s just a thing that happens to me!” And then, in a quiet, rushed mumble, “Also I already died in this universe so it’s fine.”

A strangled sound bursts out of Duke’s throat as he tries very hard not to start yelling. He puts his head in his hands and holds back a heavy sigh because the boy of his literal dreams is stressing him out so much he’s about to dissolve into ashes and ascend to a higher realm where he has no worries. 

Unfortunately, he’s not quite there yet, so Duke has to deal with living in the reality where Danny admits he already died because that’s just what he does: die young. 

Which is, apparently, not Duke’s fault at all. Cool. 

Cool cool cool. He’s definitely not going to have a breakdown about this.

A hand gently tugs on his wrist, making him lift his head to meet Danny’s worried gaze. “Hey, you alright? Do you wanna sit down for a minute?”

And you know what? Duke does want to sit down for a minute. He’s earned it. 

He nods, and Danny carefully guides him back to where the roof access door is, so they can sit with their backs against something and be away from the edge where curious eyes might spot them. It feels easy, practiced, as if they’ve done this a thousand times before instead of just now having their first conversation. Their lives have been linked and twisted together, though only for a short time before death takes Danny away. 

He knows Danny, despite how illogical it is, and that’s what makes him take off his helmet and exposure his face to the world. 

Danny knows him too, after all. 

There is no hiding from someone who is meant to be in his life.

Danny’s smiling softly when he turns to look at him. “Hey, Duke. It’s good to see you properly. Is it weird to say that I’ve missed you even though we’ve technically never met in this life?”

“Nah,” he replies, “I missed you too. Please stop scaring me like that.”

“I make no promises. Expect for this: dying won’t take me away from you in this life. I’ve got it handled.”

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s someone anyone can have handled.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Danny repeats firmly. 

Duke shakes his head with a small laugh. He got so caught up in the guilt of leading to Danny’s death, of being unable to save him, of losing  him in every universe, that he forgot how stubborn Danny is. 

It is a weight off his chest, though. To know that it wasn’t his fault. To know that the worst has already come to pass long before they met in this universe, so they don’t have to fear the future together. 

“So,” he says, “Tell me more about these magical ghostly shenanigans?”

“At least wait until the second date for personal questions,” Danny jokes.

“Okay. Wanna grab dinner tonight?”

It’s nice to see that Danny blushes easily in this universe too. “Isn’t that moving a little fast?”

“We’ve been dreaming about a bunch of other universes where we’re together. We know each other even though we don’t know each other. We’re well past moving fast, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Danny nods. “Alright. Dinner tonight, then. Take me to the best place for breakfast foods in Gotham. I’ve been craving pancakes all week.”

“Sure, I can do that. Mind giving me your number so I can figure out where to pick you up from?”

Danny nods and begins patting his pockets in search of… something. Duke means to grab his phone and hand it to Danny to get his number, but he’s quickly distracted as Danny gives up on his pockets and shoves a hand directly into his own chest. 

Ghostly magic shenanigans. This is probably part of it?  Danny doesn’t look alarmed by this at all, so Duke rolls with it and shoves away his shock at the sight. 

“Aha!” Danny holds up a sharpie in triumph. He sure did pull that straight out of his ribcage. Duke is so chill with it. 

He lets Danny take hold of his arm, removing a wrist gauntlet so he can write on the skin. The cool ink of the sharpie makes him shiver, but otherwise, he stays still. Danny writes carefully, in smooth movements. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds, then he pulls the sharpie away and blows a surprisingly cold breath against Duke’s wrist to help the ink dry faster.

“There we go,” he says with a smile. “Let me know when you wanna have our date, okay? I’m free whenever, so don’t worry about accommodating me or anything.

“I’ll text you once I’m ready,” Duke agrees. He stands up, looking over the numbers written on his wrist. He memorizes them, then puts his wrist gauntlet back on. It’s about time for him to get back to being the Signal, as much as he hates to leave Danny here when they’ve finally been able to have a quiet moment to themselves. 

“I’ll see you later, then.” Danny hesitates, then leans forward and presses a quick, chaste kiss against Duke’s cheek. Duke blinks at him, stunned, his heart skipping a beat. 

He doesn’t get the chance to return the gesture; Danny flushes red, backs up a few steps with a shy grin, and says, “Okay, bye Duke! Stay safe out there!” And then he’s gone, blinking out of sight, and it’s only his meta powers that let him see a faint wispy outline where Danny was. 

It moves, floating up in the air, then flies away like smoke in the breeze. 

Ah, Duke thinks, Ghostly. He’s a ghost. I’ll worry about that later.

His fingers brush against the spot where Danny kissed him. Then he puts his helmet back on and focuses on swinging through the streets of Gotham, ready for anything. 

The sooner he gets done with patrol, the better, after all. He needs all his focus to do that so he can start getting ready for his date with Danny, the literal boy of his dreams. 

This time, this life, this universe, they’re gonna do it right. They’ll make up for all the time their other selves lost. They’ll cherish every minute together, one pancake date at a time.

And to think, it only took a couple dozen different lives to get here.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #the dreams were bc danny messed w magic stuff he found in the ghost zone #and since duke is so heavily involved in all the other lives he got involved in this one too #basically the magic being like oh u want ur boy? here he is! #dannys bad luck has nothing to do w magic tho he just lives like that lmao #thanks for the prompt!

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hello! I came up with an idea for bi-han and Tomas. What would your reaction be like waking up naked next to your secret crush? As if they had a dinner with more friends the night before and they overindulged in alcohol, which led them to this situation. You don't have to do it if you don't want to ;)

bonus at the end!

Bi-Han: -Waking up with a headache pounding in your head is already terrible. -But also turning around and having your crush face at one inch of distance, nose already brushing against each other, is a heart attack inducing experience. -You don't scream, soul already left your body long ago, but you stop breathing, worried you may wake up the grumpy grandmaster. -You don't remember anything about the previous night, but you still have clothes on. -But these aren't yours. -This is gonna be remembered as the day you grew more than one lock of white hair. -You spot your clothes on a chair, so you lift up slowly as you can, trying to regain your clothes and possibly disappear without leaving any trace. Forever. -"What do you think you are doing?" It's a voice you recognize way too well. The clearness of it not matching the owner face, tho. Eyes half closed and hair perfect as a nest. His very cold hand grabbed your ankle, stopping you in your place. "Home? Under the ground? Disappear?" -Now he looks better at you, onyx eyes piercing your body, mouth slightly open trying to elaborate your words, like you just said the dumbest thing on the planet. -"Nothing happened yesterday night, go back to sleep." "Can you elaborate a bit more?" You politely ask, still not feeling same. -"Yesterday you got drunk like a some dumb teenager and never stopped clinging to me. I just helped you." He groans, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Why am I wearing your clothes then?" "You poured your nth drink on yourself, and I didn't want your dirty and sticky clothes in my bed." "Oh." A few seconds of silence, his hand now pulling your ankle towards the bed, getting more forceful. -"So, you took care of me! You have a soft spot for me!" You shout in excitement, making Bi-Han groan again "Ohhh do you have a crush for me, Grandmaster?" His pillow hit you straight in the face. -There must still be alcohol running in your blood because you would never be so brave in daily life. -"Don't worry, it's the same for me!" And something clicks in Bi-Han's mind, you see it in his eyes, now awake, mouth slightly open; he almost looks awestruck. -"Go back. It's too early now." He grumbles back, eyes close again and head on his pillow, yours thrown somewhere in the room after hitting your face. -You plop next to him immediately. After all those trainings, you are sure he wouldn't mind if you use his biceps as a pillow.

Tomas Vrbada: -You wake up in his arms, trapped in his hold. Not because he is actually holding you, his arms are simply heavy, and you are too tired to move them. -You want to die, worm your way out of his bed, and pop away in a cloud of smoke. -Maybe your thoughts are too loud, and soon you hear a groan, greyish eyes now open, looking straight into yours. -"Oh! Eheh. Seems like we got closer again while sleeping." You gulp, your mouth still dry. "What happened yesterday?" -You sit up, and he follows you, trying to keep the same eye level. "It was an…intense night. Maybe it's better if we talk in the kitchen." You nod. "The? Coffee?" You tell him your choice, now you are standing up, noticing that you aren't wearing the clothes of yesterday night, but what it seems a layer of Tomas' usual suit. -"Yesterday you drank too much, and kept clinging on me." "…" "Then when I brang you to my house, you poured on your clothes the water I gave you." "Wow I was a fucking mess." "Well I can't say the opposite. That's why you are wearing a part of my suit." Tomas says, turning sideways. There a fat red hickey catches your attention. -"I must have ruined your fun." You say, chuckling with death in your heart. "What do you mean?" He replies, furrowing his eyebrows. You point at your neck, where his hickey should be. His eyes widened before looking down bashfully, making you feel even worse. -"This…you made this." -WHAT. It's the turn of your eyes to widen. "You were a bit touchy-feely yesterday." -You felt like barfing, and not for the alcohol. "This is terrible Tomas! I'm so sorry." You say, voice full of sorrow for your actions. "D-Don't worry. But you need to promise me this-" "I swear I'll never drink again, I'll never bother youo, I-" "No, please listen. I think we need a bit of distance between us." -Straight to your heart. Hit and sunk. -"Don't misunderstand. I-I have a crush on you." Tomas says holding your hand, but eyes still on the ground. "Yesterday hurt like nothing else. I wanted to kiss you back and love you. But I didn't want to take advantage of you. It just isn't right." Now his grey eyes look back into yours, expression serious. -"I don't want our friendship to be ruined because of my feelings-" "I like you back." Tomas' mouth hangs open. You don't give him the time to reply. "I have been for a long time. That must be why I kept clinging to you yesterday. Now, if you want distance because I did something wrong I agree with you. But if you want distance because your crush may not be reciprocated, I have to deny your request." Your head still hurts like crazy and you don't know with which strength you are able to talk with such determination in your voice. -Now both your hands holding. Heart beating in unison. -"N-No, I mean. It's the second case. Like…do you really have a crush on me?" Tomas's cheeks get more and more red each second going by. His voice a bit higher than usual. "I do." -He releases your hands, now covering his face. "I can't believe this. You really have a crush on me?" "If you ask again I may change my mind." "No! Okay, you have a crush on me." "I do. You too?" "Absolutely." -"So…don't I look cute?" You say twirling around, his suit fluttering when you twirl on your place. "Yes, you do." He finally looks at you, but looks at you for real. Your bedhair, makeup smudged and his suit makes you look absurdly cute. -"Don't you think cute things should be kissed?" He nods. "Tomas?" "Mh?" He replies, mind clearly elsewhere. "Kiss me." This time the message was delivered. -Thankfully you both forgot to have morning breath.

bonus under the read more!

I know that with "you" you meant the reader, not my opinion in waking up in such a scenario, so I'm gonna write down here what I would do LOL.

Bi-Han: I can't believe that I would sleep with him even if intoxicated. But if it happeend I'll just crawl away and hope to never see him again. If he notices me I'd say something along the "I thought you were Johnny Cage". At that point I'm sure that I would be able to exit his house, dead or alive. Probably dead.

Tomas: Oh-I forgot what happened, maybe we should remake what happened yesterday night *twirling hair*. Maybe once won't be enough? Let's go for twice. You know what? Three is the perfect number, are you ready. 1-2-3 go!

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #bi han x reader #bi han #bi han sub zero #tomas vrbada #tomas x reader #smoke x you #mk smoke #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons

[hellish-sunsets]

Hi, so, can I ask for husker x young reader (platonic)? Readers father knocked at the hotels door when reader was a very young girl, 5 or so, saying that he’ll be right back, and left before the door was answered by the hotels owner, Charlie. 11 years have passed and everyone has become like family to reader, mainly husker, who’s basically become like her father. So what if one day readers bio dad comes back (reader doesn’t know he’s her dad) and tries to get himself back into readers life? Husker knows who he is, and doesn’t approve at all. What then?

Too Late

Husk was the one who ended up answering the door. He was the only one in the lobby at the time. He sighed and grumbled, but opened the door regardless, only to met with... a child?

She didn't look to be in the best condition, honestly. She was thin, her hair unkempt, and her clothes flitby and falling apart. She jumped when the door opened, looking up at Husk with big eyes. She looked off in the distance behind herself, then back at him. Tears welled up in her eyes, her face scrunched up as she started to cry.

Husk was not good with kids, but even an idiot knew you were supposed to comfort a crying kid.

He picked her up, glaring at the surroundings to see if he could spot who had left her here, but closing the door when he found nothing. His focus shifted to figuring out what to do with the kid.

He ended up settling her on a couch in the lobby and getting her a glass of water until she had calmed down. Apparently, her father had left her there. Great. He got her a blanket and pillow and watched over her while she slept. He would talk to everyone else in the morning and figure out a more permanent plan.

Well, considering the people who were there, he probably shouldn't have expected much. They all just decided to hold on to her and take care of her themselves. Which worked out mostly, but it left Husk doing the majority of the proper parenting.

It happened so gradually, he almost didn’t even notice that's what happened. And by the time the kid first called him Dad, smiling up at him from her bed, he found he didn't mind.

So, she grew up in the hotel for eleven years, becoming a fixture everyone loved to see.

Then came the day a man walked in.

He walked to Husk at the bar and he could immediately tell something was off. He narrowed his eyes at the man, managing to stifle a growl. Y/N was behind the bar counter as well, now a teenager. She looked weary as well, glancing up from her phone between the man and Husk.

"Can I help you, sir?" Husk asked.

The man went on to say he was looking for someone. Husk's fur stood on end as he heard the man describe how he abandoned his daughter here so casually, like he hadn't even done anything wrong. His wings puffed up and spread out, protectively blocking her from him.

"Any chance she's still here?"

"What exactly are you going to do if I say no, hmm?" Husk asked, crossing his arms. "What do you want with her?"

The man didn't give an answer, just asked again if she was here more sternly, a cross look over his face. Husk refused to answer, and the man only got more angry. There was about to be a fight in that hotel lobby, but you step in. You had to process what was going on first.

You didn't remember anything about your life before the hotel. You vaguely remembered the night you were left here, but Husk had told you how he found you on the hotel porch. You were smart enough to recognize the connections from that story and this man's ramblings.

"Sir, your daughter isn't here. Kindly fuck off before we have to sick our overlord on you."

"The fuck did you just say to me, bitch?"

Husk felt his heart stop as that man growled at her, standing off. He put a hand on your shoulder.

Thankfully, Alastor decided to show up, appearing behind the man through shadows and placing a hand on his shoulder as well.

"I believe you were told to leave."

The man turned with a scowl, but went pale when he saw who was standing behind him, grin stretched painfully wide. He all but ran out of the hotel.

You gave a deep breath, deflating now that he had left.

"Fucking jackass..." you muttered, returning to your stool behind the counter.

"Hey, are you going to be okay?" Husk asked with furrowed brows. You just shrugged.

"It's fine, he left. Besides, I already have a Dad, and he's a fuck ton better than that guy."

Husk smiled and nodded, returning to cleaning his glasses with a new lightness to his steps.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #reader insert #platonic x reader #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel reader insert

[french-unknown]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin 𝐂/𝐖: toxic relationships (kidnapping, mentions of death, suicide blackmail) and there is no love in them 𝐖/𝐂: 3.5k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 2 |

You had just arrived on an island that you recognized immediately since one of your closest family friends lived there. Happy, you wanted to go see her immediately but you were stopped by Luffy who asked to accompany you. You laughed and, despite his pouting that he tried to convince you with, you refused. However, you placed a kiss on his lips before leaving.

Your parents' friend recognized you at first glance and you fell into each other's arms within seconds. You were happy to see her again after all this time, so you started talking for a few moments until she finally sighed.

"I’m sorry about your mom." she declared sadly. Not understanding what she meant, you raised your eyebrows. She continued. "For her illness? I know it must be hard for you. I'm surprised that you're not with them; have you already said goodbye to her?" A drop of sweat ran down the back of your neck and, confused, you explained to her that you didn't know what she was talking about. "Your mother is terminally ill." she elaborated. "They told me they sent you several letters about it, so I thought you knew." You shook your head in shock.

At the same moment, a commotion was heard on the other side of the store window. You saw a group of Marines running past while shouting that they had spotted the Straw Hat Captain on this street. Panicked, you picked up your things and greeted your parents' friend before running away since, if Luffy had been targeted, you weren't going to stay on the island.

When you arrived at the boat, without being noticed by anyone, you went directly to see the captain to explain your situation and that you would like to leave the ship for a few months to go and see your family. But, to your great astonishment, Luffy refused. You insisted and yet he remained intransigent: You will not leave the ship. You then insisted even more so that he understood your need to be with your loved ones but, as you turned your back and announced that you would leave anyway, the world went black.

You woke up in a cramped room while the rocking under your feet as well as the smell of wood and salt water confirmed to you that you were still on the Sunny. Suddenly, a ray of light passed into the room and you saw your captain smiling through a trapdoor in the only door. Behind him, you noticed the Soldier Docker System  with the doors to Franky and Usopp's workshops in the distance.

"Let me out, Luffy!" You ordered, confused but mostly annoyed. "Nah!" he responds with his characteristic smile. "You are not allowed to leave. Your captain forbids you!" You frowned in concern before speaking. "You can't do that, Luffy. I can leave whenever I want and you have no right to stop me." He laughed as if you had just told a joke. "Well I'm doing it anyway! You'll stay there until you promise me that you'll always stay by my side. And don't bother shouting for the others to come get you, I told them that you stayed on the ground with your friend. See you!"

And he closed the hatch, leaving you alone and in the dark again in the Sunny's hold. You didn't quite understand what had just happened to you but you felt in your gut that you weren't going to like it.

Since the Straw Hat Grand Fleet was formed, you have become very close to the other crews and, in particular, to a group from the Beautiful Pirates that you found very interesting. They had refined manners, their styles were fun with their wigs and mustaches and, above all, they had a lot of conversation. So you gradually started to spend more time with them to find out where they came from and what they had been through. As a result, it took up your time with your other friends from the Straw Hat Pirates even though the majority of them didn't pay much attention to it.

After a while, when the fleet began to run out of supplies, it was decided among the captains that you would stop at the next island to get them. About thirty members were designated among all the crews to go and recover the goods. Among them were, among other things, all your friends from the Beautiful Pirates as well as Zoro. You were not worried at all, so you wished them good luck before returning peacefully to your activities.

Unfortunately, not all of them returned.

Zoro returned to the boat first, some blood on him, announcing that they had been attacked in the mist by a brigand who had taken advantage of the lack of visibility. Seeing nothing, he therefore wanted to inform other pirate but he got lost. A wave of worry ran through the fleet as a feeling of revenge grew within the ranks. Finally, slowly, a few other members of the other crews came back and everyone explained the same version: they had been attacked by a brigand. Everyone looked terrified except Zoro. Only your friends did not return and you lost all hope when you saw Farul returning to the boat. The horse, panicked, began to neigh and rear as soon as he noticed the swordsman in your ranks. Crazy, it took a lot of effort for Cavendish to master it.

When the fog lifted, no bodies were found on the island and rumors began to grow among the pirates that they had been killed by a demon.

That evening, after your feelings had been numbed all day, you felt your walls crack before completely collapsing. You began to mourn the loss of your friends and their mysterious disappearance. Unable to believe this demon story, you began to imagine what had happened to their bodies or what they had been thinking during their last moments.

The crow's nest hatch opened and you saw a green head slipping through it. Zoro approached you as soon as he saw you and, when he was close enough, out of a cruel need for comfort, you took him in your arms. He nevertheless closed his arms around you despite the surprise and then rested his chin on top of your head. You were immediately reassured by his presence and surprised that he accepted your hug so well. However, you didn't complain and stayed in his arms, talking about your loss, while he continued to hold you against him and stroke your back.

From there, a routine settled down.

He came to join you every evening to take you in his arms before letting you evacuate your sadness. He was so supportive that after a few months, when he confessed, you thought it was the kind of support you needed in your life so you accepted.

You were upset. For several weeks, without knowing why, certain very specific memories of your adolescence had come back to your mind, like an afternoon of fishing with your father and his crew mates. Or a boarding with rival ships. You were experiencing these flashes in an abnormally precise way with the details, the smells, the exact conversations and the emotions associated with them.

All the members of the Straw Hats knew what was happening to you and supported you in their own way. Nami, above all, was a huge pillar for you. You had already gotten along very well with her when she joined the crew after you and Zoro, but now she was even more attentive. She listened to you talk about how much it unsettled you to have these outbursts of impromptu memories that you hadn't thought about in a long time. She helped you a lot to unload this emotional burden that was overwhelming you.

Once again, you were alone in the shade of the navigator's mandarin trees. You closed your eyes, exhausted, and the sound of the sea began to lull you. The waves passed and rolled under the hull of the ship or crashed against the wooden planks. Then others took over and it started again and again.

Suddenly, a cage of fear closed around your heart before crushing it and you were plunged into another memory. You were on your father's boat, lying in bed, but something was wrong. It took you a few seconds to untangle your thoughts and realize that you were tied hand and foot. Your wrists and ankles were burning from the uncomfortable friction of the bonds against your skin. A cloth gag also covered your mouth to stop you from screaming. Suddenly, a noise in front of you made you raise your head and you came face to face with a person you had never seen before. Unlike everything around you, this person's head was fuzzy. The only thing you noticed was that it was a girl around your age with orange hair. She abruptly sat down on your lap, making a faint citrus scent waft through your nostrils, before you felt something cold against your cheek. A ray of moonlight passed through your shutters and reflected against the blade placed under your eye.

"I finally catch you." the presence whispered with its face inches from yours. "You were so attractive on the last island that I couldn't help but get on your ship. You are so... these last few days I saw you laughing on the deck and talking to those dirty pirates, but you... you..." And you saw her face move closer to yours until you felt pressure against your lips through the gag.

At the same time, screams were heard from the other side of the door and footsteps echoed on the deck. The girl on your lap groaned before slowly getting up without taking her eyes off you. You saw her grab a large bag from near the door before you closed your eyes. The next day, when you opened them again, you rose unhindered—and without memories—from your bed to discover that your loot had been stolen during the night.

You came out of the memory with a start, your heart beating a thousand miles an hour. You were sweating as your breathing ran out quickly. Above you, the branches of the mandarin trees quivered.

"Slept well?" Nami asked happily.

The battle raged and you attacked as best you could despite the circumstances. Indeed, shortly after arriving on the island, you were found by the Marine who had launched the assault but you were not at your best because of relationship problems which prevented you from concentrating completely.

For several months now, you found that Usopp was becoming more and more restrictive: he no longer wanted you to go on dry land when you docked somewhere, he wanted you to spend less time training to spend more time with him, he preferred that you talk less to the other male members of the crew and the list went on a lot longer. And the worst thing is that he always had justifications! Either he reminded you that it was him who created your weapon and that he regretted it because it had replaced him or he confided in you in private how the other male members of the crew made him doubt his abilities and that the fact that you preferred to talk to them rather than to him meant that you made him insecure.

As the battle finally ended in your victory, a cry from Zoro alerted you. Running up to the swordsman, you saw Usopp's body at his feet. His rolled-back eyes shocked you, as did the pool of blood that was gradually forming around his body. A memory from the day before came back to you: "I want to take a break." You told him, and he replied, "I would rather die than live without you." You froze, your eyes locked on his broken body as Chopper came running in to examine him. Above him, Zoro was explaining that he had seen the sniper suddenly completely stop fighting in the middle of the fight. He had managed to reach him to protect him but Usopp had taken serious blows in the meantime.

The whole crew was tense. You heard the slight sniffles from Franky as Nami collapsed next to her friend, her shoulders shaking in fear. A worried frown also narrowed Zoro and Robin's gaze. Sanji, for his part, was nervously smoking his cigarette while Luffy, the most terrifying of all, was dead silent. After a while, Chopper ended up reassuring you that he was still alive but that he had to be transported back to Sunny immediately.

As soon as he was placed in the infirmary bed, the morbid wait began. For days, you took turns next to him so that you would be immediately informed if he woke up and, for days, you saw the faces of the crew deteriorate more and more. For your part, more than worry, it was guilt that burned your stomach like acid. Was it your fault he stopped fighting? Was he going to die because of you? How would the crew react if he died?

Finally, Usopp woke up much to everyone's relief. He reassured them by blaming it on fatigue and they ended up leaving both of you alone in the infirmary. Their relief made you feel even worse since you weren't relieved that he was alive; you were relieved that he didn’t die because of you. The sniper then asked you to join him in bed and wrapped his arms around you. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I was so scared when you told me you wanted to leave me." he started to whisper. "I wouldn't survive if you left me."

And, too terrified of what might happen if you broke up, you stayed.

While you were going to the bathhouse as Sanji had asked you, for a surprise, you met Nami. The navigator laughed slightly and admitted that she already knew what was waiting for you because Sanji had talked to her about it all day and asked for her help to prepare it.

"You're lucky to have him." the redhead kindly said. "It’s obvious that he loves you."

You blushed at the remark and you continued on your way. As soon as you knocked on the door, Sanji immediately opened it with a big smile before kissing you excitedly and pulling you into the room.

The bathroom had been completely redecorated. The main light was off and had been replaced by a myriad of candles that smeared the room and illuminated it with a soft, flickering and welcoming hue whose intimate atmosphere was accompanied by the rose petals deposited everywhere. On the furniture, the floor, where it formed a graceful path towards the bathtub, and finally in the latter where the flowers overhung the hot water covered with a white foam that looked like pieces of cloud in the half-light. A sweet smell of cotton and flowers evaporated from the hot water and perfumed the room. On the side of the bathtub, he had specially folded the towels so that they fit into a pyramid among the petals. Dazzled by the atmosphere and the efforts he had put into it, you didn't know what to say. Suddenly, you felt him press against your back before wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a kiss on your neck. His skillful hands, which he took so much care of, then began to undress you while he spoke in your ear.

However, as you took over and the excitement also rose on your side, you finally found yourself in your underwear in front of him and his charming face froze. You felt in your stomach that something had changed in the mood.

"You're not wearing the lingerie I gave you?" he asked, and though his voice was kind, you sensed something was wrong.

You looked down and looked at your lingerie set, which was very pretty but was indeed not one of those that Sanji had offered you.

"This one looked great on the mannequin." he continued in the same oddly amiable tone. "But I told you that I was preparing a surprise for you. You couldn't at least wear the ones I brought you?"

A feeling of shame intensified in your mind in the form of a huge lump that settled in your throat. Under his judgmental gaze, you felt the urge to cover yourself, ashamed of your body and the clothes you had chosen to cover it.

"I spent the afternoon preparing a surprise for you and you can't even do that for me. I've been collecting these damn candles and flowers for weeks on different layovers so you don't realize it. And you come like that?"

"I can go change if you want?" you asked, ashamed.

He then took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with annoyance, then exhaled dryly the smoke which polluted the sweet smell in the room. He put the lighter back in his pocket and turned on his heel.

"It’s no use, you’ve already ruined everything." he huffed, irritated. "All those efforts were stupidly ruined, you're lucky I love you. I'm the only one dumb enough to do that."

And he left, leaving you alone in your underwear in the bathroom, which now smelled of cigarettes, next to this bathtub with the foam half gone, and surrounded by those thousand petals and candles that had lost their sparkle.

You were running but you didn't know where you were in the boat, you were totally confused and lost.

A long time ago, you didn't know exactly how much, you wanted to leave the ship to have a drink with a local with whom you had gotten along well. You had prepared yourself, ready to leave, but before you walked through the door, you had passed out. When you woke up, you were tied up somewhere in the dark. After a while Robin ended up finding you but, when you started begging her to free you, she told you that it was she who had locked you up.

From that moment on, the shock had finally dissipated and given way to fear. You had known her for years of sailing together and if there was one thing you knew about Robin, it was that she was the type of person to follow through on the things she cared about. She came almost every day into the room to talk to you or simply to look at you. Only that. But today, you don't know how, your ties have loosened enough for you to escape. You then waited for her to make her daily visit while praying that she would not notice the state of your restraints.

You then counted to one hundred as soon as she left before escaping.

So you found yourself running through the corridors that you guessed were the Thousand Sunny but, in your blind panic, you were unable to find your way. After a while, at the corner of a corridor, you saw a lighter spot on the wall a few meters away. You recognized the shape of an ear sticking out of the wall as you approached. You immediately stopped as quietly as possible near the wall and didn't move. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your wheezing. The ear moved a little but remained still. After a minute without any new movement, you felt your heart begin to slow down with relief. Suddenly, a small "boing" sounded in one of your ears and something soft touched your cheek. You turned your head to the wall beside you, where the noise was coming from, and fell face-to-face with a dull blue eye watching you. Horrified, you could only watch as the azure iris bore into your eyes.

You immediately started running again but it was too late.

You could only make a few steps before a hold on your ankle knocked you down. In the process, you felt a hundred arms and hands come to cover you and pin you to the ground. You felt them rest and press on your calves, your thighs, your back and even your neck and your head. Some encircled their palms around your ankles and wrists while others held you down with pressure. As you wanted to scream - lost for lost - you felt a hand grow on your shoulder and come crashing down on your mouth to drown out any noise you might make. Paralyzed, you could only let it happen when an arm blossomed between your shoulder blades so that a hand slipped into your hair to hold your head back. Now looking up, you saw Robin appear at the end of the corridor before quietly approaching you on her long legs. She walked over to you before kneeling down next to your head, keeping eye contact.

"Did you really think I wasn’t watching you?" she asked in her lifeless tone.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @idsmash717 @lys-ada @xomingyu @parkyrr @yasmiinberkaa @dozcan123 @anotherproblemsos

#one piece #imagine #one piece x reader #luffy #luffy x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #nami #nami x reader #usopp #usopp x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #nico robin #nico robin x reader

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

.

.

iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

#iso x reader #iso fluff #iso valorant #valorant iso #valorant #valorant x reader #valorant protocol #gosh i wanna kiss his face all over #zhou’s daydreams

[gintrinsic-writing]

For @guardedchild and @fwoosheye, who requested physical affection and domestic interactions. Malon and references to Ravio were thrown in for good measure. :)

--

Legend’s first mistake was looking up when he heard the kiss. Though, really, how anyone could ignore the distinct, wet sound of a well-planted smooch from four feet away was beyond him. 

The second mistake was making some kind of face. “Some kind,” because Malon immediately graced him with a knowing smile and closed the distance fast. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more love,” she told him with a laugh, already reaching for Legend’s face with two flour dusted palms. 

“I’m good,” Legend began, eyeing the red lipstick on Time’s left cheek—and Time’s stupid, love-drunk grin, which was somehow worse than Malon’s—and taking a quick step back. 

“Nonsense,” Malon told him sweetly. She gently brushed one thumb across the spot where Legend’s freckles were darkest. “I’d recognize that look anywhere. Homesick, huh? Link—Time—told me about Ravio. Don’t you worry, if he’s half the man I suspect he is to have caught your eye, I bet he’s missin’ you, too.” 

Legend felt like he’d been hit over the head. “Wha—That’s not—Ravio isn’t—Time!” He turned his fiercest scowl on the older hero, who didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. Malon took advantage of Legend’s distraction and planted a light kiss on his forehead. He thought he might die on the spot. 

“There!” Malon beamed at him. “Now, I gotta get back to helpin’ Wild. You boys make yourselves at home. And remember, Legend, you’re very loved.” That said, she made her way down the hall and toward the kitchen. 

“Too much?” Time asked with a teasing smile once Malon was out of sight. 

“Yes,” Legend snapped, rubbing his face like that might get rid of his obvious blush. He didn’t rub his forehead very hard. “Why would you tell her that anyway?”

“Isn’t it true?”

“No, it most certainly is not.” It wasn’t like he and Ravio had ever discussed anything. Except for that one time, which he was not thinking about. 

“Hmm.” 

“And besides, she’s not my wife.” Legend gestured toward the ruby red lipstick still on Time’s cheek. 

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do,” Legend huffed. 

“Oh.” Finally, Time looked a fraction of the awkwardness that Legend felt. “Sorry, I didn’t think— Neither of us meant to make you uncomfortable. I’ll talk to her about it this evening.”

“No, that isn’t…” Legend trailed off with a loud sigh. “Don’t make her feel bad. I’m just not used to it. That.”

“Not used to…?”

“Physical affection,” Legend grumbled. “It makes me feel weird.”

Time hummed shortly. “Bad weird?”

“Just weird weird.” Legend raised a hand. “Don’t get ideas—there’s no deeply rooted trauma or anything like that. I just don’t know what to do with it.”

Time thought about that for a quick moment. “Like with most things, practice helps. It did for me.”

This time, Legend was positive that the face he was making was a grimace. “I’m not going to join the Twilight and Wild cuddle piles. And Sky’s hugs are too intense, it’s like he’s trying to smother you.” 

“I see,” Time answered in his usual cryptic, annoying way. “Well, start smaller. If you want to.”

“Meaning?”

Time shrugged, but there was something soft about the way he stared at Legend then, something understated but appreciative. “Whatever feels less weird.” And then, cataloging his movement in a way that was simple without being patronizing, Time reached out and gently ruffled Legend’s hair. 

All in all, Legend thought, it wasn’t the worst thing. Far from it. 

#i'm with legend on this one #i am always uncomfortable with physical affection unless it's like... my grandparents haha #anyway i hope you two enjoyed! #sometimes it's fun taking a break from the whump #lu legend #lu time #lu fic #linked universe #lu malon #ravioli #sort of? idk but someone asked me to tag that pairing so they could avoid it #gintrinsic writing

[anystalker707]

I'm going nowhere [2/2]

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 2 100 Summary: You were a slave to the Celestial Dragons, saved by Zoro, who decided to make you part of the crew. It's the first time you see Zoro get so wounded and pass out after a battle. Tags: Reader is very caring / Zoro recognizes it, so he makes sure to pamper reader / Very fluffy

requested by @noorbdhdhd "hey! so yeah how are you doing? i hope you're well , so i have something to ask. I'm beginning for part2 "it's not going anywhere" with zoro , please I'm literally beginning 🥹🥹🙌🏻 thank ya!"

MASTERLIST

[PART ONE]

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

          “Where’s Zoro?” You tilted your head, observing that Sanji and Usopp were back from the fight the crew had been going against. Luffy also wasn’t back, but your worries naturally surrounded Zoro. Your mind kept driving away, sometimes having Chopper ask you for the same thing more than once, in a way Nami told you to just leave helping Chopper up to her, so you quickly rushed to the deck, observing the island into the distance where eventual blows would raise clouds of dust. One mountain was sliced, sending half of it sliding down, and that was certainly Zoro. Damn.

A sigh escaped your lips as you stood there with Brook and Robin, observing the fight that was going on in the distance. A sigh escaped your lips—it felt like it would never end. Zoro was all you had; practically everything you had to hold onto ever since you’d been pulled out of that mediocre reality by him. What if Zoro died? Would you need to return to the Celestial Dragons’ possession?

A sudden warm, gentle touch on your shoulder made you immediately look to the side and see Robin standing there, with that gentle smile of hers that always carried so much elegance and comfort, or at least when she wasn’t exposing her intrusive thoughts.

“Zoro is a great warrior,” she said as if reading your thoughts. Her voice was calm and nice over the sound of the blows in the distance.

“She’s right, (y/n)-san!” Brook cut in. “Seeing Zoro fighting is enough to make my eyes pop off my head! Wait— I don’t have eyes!” He let out his characteristic laugh, and you couldn’t help but smile a little as Robin did the same.

They were nice. The crew was like family, even if sometimes you almost thought of them the way you did to the friends and family of the Celestial Dragon you used to serve. It was annoying, angering even, because it wasn’t fair to them. They treated you so well, nothing like the Celestial Dragons could ever be capable of. It went from the way Luffy already considered you one of his accomplices to the way Sanji would scold you for trying to steal food with Usopp. It was the sort of domestic thing you always needed, but never knew.

Then, there was a whole other type of life. A new feeling that Zoro introduced to you, even if unconsciously. He showed you there can be safety without depending exclusively on one person, and that you can feel at home even if you’re just drifting along the sea. It gave you something to look forward to in the morning, and also gave you more reasons to be a better person.

All of that, though, seemed distant inside your mind as you crouched down behind the railing. Your arms were folded over the top of it as you watched how the fight probably kept going on the island, even if the blows were weaker and more occasional. The sun was already starting to set. Robin was still there, but she had already come and gone a few times, while Brook was off to something else already. The rest of the crew seemed used to it, but none of them seemed to try to convince you things were going to be okay because they knew you just had to learn it on your own.

It felt like forever until you could finally spot the familiar green shade over the shore, far enough to make you blink a few times to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Zoro had Luffy’s unconscious body thrown over his shoulder despite the great amount of blood that was flowing from his opposite shoulder. He took steps each time slower until he finally collapsed over the wet ground, face first, letting Luffy fall as the water of the sea reached them whenever it draped over the sand.

Your eyes were wide, but you couldn’t really say anything, watching it as some of the others quickly got in the mini-Merry to go get the two.

          Chopper fixed Zoro, cleaning the wounds, and stitching and bandaging what was needed to. You could finally approach Zoro after that—he had been laid on a futon on the ground along with the others for Chopper to take care of them. It hurt to see Zoro like that, but there was some comfort in at least having him within reach.

You couldn’t really place yourself there. Sitting next to Zoro was relieving, though you also wanted to touch him so badly, but what if you opened a wound or something just because of that? You didn’t even want to look away for too long because what if he woke up? The most you could do was rush to the kitchen and grab a glass of water in case he woke up feeling thirsty, letting it sit on the ground as you sat next to Zoro, observing him quietly.

Zoro had a neutral expression on—it wasn’t the peaceful one he had when he slept nor the careless one he had when napping around. A sigh escaped your lips as you observed him, wondering what was going on in his mind. If there was something at all going on in there right now.

There were a lot of cuts along his body, more than usual, and he needed bandages across his chest, along his shoulder, and around his forehead. It made you wonder how he’d gotten them, what sort of grasp the enemy had on him.

At some point, you got up and Zoro’s stuff to clean the katanas—you’d learned how to take care of weapons while being a slave for the Celestial Dragons and also learned how Zoro liked his katanas taken care of through observing him when he did it, so it wasn’t that hard.

The blades and handles were covered in blood that had already started to go dry, so you did your best to get rid of every little stain that covered even the sheaths. Eventually, you finished it, so all you could do was observe Zoro again. Nothing had changed. The same neutral expression lingered on his face, hence sometimes you would take a moment to watch his chest rise and fall to make sure he was breathing, and also breathing properly.

“You need to sleep,” a voice said and there was a hand on your shoulder. Robin smiled as she looked at you, her voice as gentle as her touch. “You need to take care of yourself so you can take care of him. You know he would hate to see you sacrificing yourself in any sort.” She let a thick comforter fall over your shoulders, and, until now, you hadn’t noticed how cold it had gotten with the night.

Robin’s words made you think, and you could practically see Zoro click his tongue and look away at the mention of you doing something like that for him, even if he would be thankful for it. Still, having more than one of you in a worrying situation wasn’t nice.

It was so quiet already that you were surprised you hadn’t heard Robin approach. All you could do was mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ while she walked away.

Sanji and Usopp were gone from there already, and you only had faint memories of the two struggling to sit up while the rest of the crew was gathered around them, though Luffy was still out of it. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at Zoro, observing him as you heard the soft sound of the waves outside and the gentle rocking of the ship suddenly felt so...

A yawn escaped your lips as you wrapped the comforter more around yourself, trying to make it at least a little more comfortable so you could lie down next to Zoro. It didn’t matter if you were on the ground as long as you were near him.

A sudden commotion brought you back to reality—you hadn’t really been able to sleep with the thought that Zoro could wake up at any moment, but you could at least rest a little bit. It wasn’t dark outside anymore. Now, you immediately shot up when he groaned. He felt around for a little, eyebrows furrowed, only relaxing again when his hand finally found yours; he sighed and squeezed your hand. You blinked, observing him for a moment before you called Chopper.

          Zoro was strong. Far stronger than the warriors of the Celestial Dragons that you’d see around, staying in bed for days after facing enemies—actually, the Straw Hats were stronger in general, even the ones that deemed themselves weak. It was kind of impressive seeing how Zoro was already walking around like that and also eating a whole lot.

You were there holding his hand the whole time while he shared information about the fight with the others, summing up with what Sanji and Usopp had reported and building theories on something that regarded the Marine. Only bits of it made sense to you because you weren’t really paying attention to it, more worried about cleaning the wounds on Zoro’s hand again despite how it wasn’t really needed—it was but a dumb excuse you used to hold his hand and keep close even if you didn’t really need one.

“...You aren’t supposed to train,” you mumbled as you watched Zoro walk around the Crow’s Nest. You pouted a little, but sighed in relief when he just dropped to his futon instead, patting the spot next to him. Zoro yawned, crossing his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the couch. “...It’s not really comfortable here,” you whispered as you sat down, watching Zoro for a moment. “Do you want me to grab you a few pillows?”

“I want you next to me,” Zoro replied almost instantly. He continued with that same expression despite how your face heated up and you were about to start stuttering when Zoro wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “I saw you cleaned the katanas. You did a great job,” he mumbled as he ran his fingers through your hair and opened his eye to peek at you. “What’s it?”

“I—” Your breath caught in your throat as Zoro’s compliment rang in your mind, but you tried to focus; you couldn’t have Zoro teasing you getting flustered at whatever he did, not again. “Um, are you sure you don’t need anything?”

Zoro blinked a couple of times, looking around the room as he thought before slowly cracking a grin. Aw, hell. “I think a little kiss might make me feel better.” He raised his eyebrows a little, prompting you.

“Zoro,” you mumbled in defeat, sighing. With all those bandages and wounds...

“You won’t hurt me!” Zoro rolled his eyes and sighed, muttering about how you were overthinking. He didn’t give you any time to think now, already wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close; Zoro had his legs crossed loosely, so he let you sit on the space between them with your legs sorta hooked over his thigh. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck out of instinct despite how you were still worried about his wounds. He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours in a gentle nuzzling motion before he nuzzled your cheek. “So? No kiss?” He pouted lightly.

The closeness was enough to have your heart fluttering; the warmth of his body against yours and the way his breath fanned on your face. His hands were always so careful when holding you, as well, despite being strong and firm. He just managed to make you fall in love more and more.

You blinked, snapping back into reality. “Sorry.” You pressed a kiss to Zoro’s cheek, easily making him smile, so you gave him more kisses along the side of his face until Zoro finally turned his head and pressed his lips to yours.

“You were taking too long,” he whispered against your lips, giving you more kisses. They were short pecks, each time more intense and helplessly sending you leaning back while gripping onto his neck until his grip became firmer on your waist. It had you still, so Zoro could finally give you a proper kiss. His lips were a little chapped, a little wounded from the recent battle, but the kiss was nice nonetheless. It always was. Zoro’s kisses were gentle and comforting, making up for all the time you spent worrying about him.

“You alright now?” You pulled away a little to cup his cheeks, running your thumb along Zoro’s cheeks, tracing some of the cuts while keeping his face close.

“I’ve been alright this whole time,” he scoffed, ignoring the way you rolled your eyes and kissing your lips again. “Actually, I need one thing to be completely alright.” He grinned. “I need a napping buddy. Also known as the love of my life.” He wrapped his arms around you tighter to keep you close as he leaned back.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #oneshot #imagine #fan fic #fan fiction #zoro x reader #sanji vinsmoke #monkey d luffy #nico robin #nami #tony tony chopper

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (3)

summary: you found your goal, but the path to truth was more complicated than it seemed

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood, people getting stabbed, bad narrating of action scenes (sorry it's not my forte), bad words, english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake!

note: hi guys! thank u all for the support in this fic! we're getting closer to the imminent reunion between these three! captain america and the winter soldier starting next chapter! i'll try to post next part as soon as i can. love u all and thank you for the notes! &lt;3

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 4

The days in Siberia were cold, but not as cold as that night as you returned home.

All the crumbs you had been able to collect from the mysterious culprits behind the death of Tony's parents had taken you to Siberia. From the moment you stepped out the door of the plane a sense of uneasiness was stamped on your body, having to look behind you every few moments to make sure you weren't being followed. Even if they were following you, you were sure it would be very difficult for you to spot them, because so far they were all doing a very good job of hiding, making your job up to four times more difficult.

You had been chasing ghost trails for eight months and if it weren't for that sixth sense that made you look over your shoulder, you would think you were in the wrong place. But you were on the right track.

Fury had told you that, once in Siberia, you would have to do reconnaissance on your own, because the people there were not as open to foreigners as in other countries, especially in the town where you would be staying.

So, in addition, you spent about two months camouflaging yourself among the people, trying to live a somewhat normal life among the villagers. Some already recognized you when you passed through their streets, just a nod as a greeting. But you were on the right track.

And that night you confirmed it.

It was late at night when you were returning to your small room in an apartment complex in the center of town. You had to cross a lonely snowy stretch to get into town from the place where you worked cutting and storing firewood. You already had that nerve-wracking feeling of surveillance making your hair stand on end like at no other time during your time there. If he wasn't a stalker, then this guy had fallen into the trap.

He started with light steps, and you knew he was doing it on purpose because he wanted you to know he was there, behind you, with the lead. So you gave in and picked up the pace, just beginning to notice the yellow and white lights of the entrance to town in the distance. The man matched your pace and you were incredibly tempted to turn to look at him, to see if it was him or someone else, even though you had no idea of his build. You were sure you could recognize him just by looking at his eyes.

But you had an act to keep up. So you slowly pulled your hands out of your jacket… and started running.

His response was immediate, but you were honestly surprised by the way his footsteps still sounded so light unlike yours. Not letting that catch you off guard, you kept your pace as a normal person would, letting him think you were running as fast as you could. And sooner than ever, you began to hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, louder and louder.

Sharpening your ears, you heard him take an almost imperceptible deep breath, which would totally take any normal person by surprise, but which you were foreseeing since you started chasing a ghost, a myth.

The Winter Soldier.

Hand in hand with the sound of his movements, you stopped abruptly and squatted down as you sensed him gain momentum to leap up and take you by surprise. But you took him by surprise when in the middle of his jump he continued straight, landing badly on the ground covered by a light layer of snow, but recovering quickly to turn around and look at you.

His entire face was covered by a black mask.

He stayed on the ground, just like you, with one leg outstretched and one hand on the ground for support. You started to get up without blinking a microsecond to risk losing sight of him, and he mimicked your movements as if he were your mirror.

He was intimidating and the stories you had heard about him seemed to have outgrown him.

That man looked like he could snap you in two with the minimal effort of his arms, his big shoulders and the line of his muscles bulging through his black suit.

You took a hesitant step forward, him mimicking you as if he was playing you, as if you were a fool to think you had a chance of beating someone like him. You could tell he was letting you feel like you had some control, because he easily understood your game with that little trick you played on him.

That was a very big risk for you to take. The moment the Winter Soldier realized you were no ordinary person, the decks would stop coming out in your favor.

So you kept approaching, willing to take the risk, because the only thing you could do from now on was to catch him off guard by doing everything as stupid as possible, the opposite of your survival instincts that implored you to run away from that place.

He came closer too, his steps full of grace and so light that if you hadn't seen him right in front of you, you would've thought there was no one there. His left hand imitated yours, when you reached for the knife you had hidden behind your back, under your trench coat. And when you uncovered your hand all at once, he also had a knife in his hand, a little smaller than yours, but no less lethal in the hands of an experienced killer.

So if he knew why you were there, because that was the reason he must've followed you, you must've made enough noise about mysterious murders, especially that of Howard and Maria Stark, which was the reason many townies stayed away from you, then he must've been working for the culprit or he himself was the culprit. There was no other reason that man had to have followed you so late at night, armed to the teeth if not to kill you for being a snoop in matters not your own.

The real killer could have sent him to finish you, the only person in that town who suspected that the murder he had passed off as an accident in the States hadn't been a mere accident. And he must've deduced that, if you had gone to the trouble to travel there and make such a fuss, it must have been because you knew something. Something about him. And he couldn't take any chances.

So here was the Winter Soldier, ready to take out the trash, looking sublimely menacing under the yellow sidewalk light.

You had to get that mask off him somehow.

So, following your incredible plan to disregard your survival instincts, you lunged at him, looking all inexperienced and foolish, to proceed to dodge one by one the flicks of his wrist in your direction, some too close to your face. Not lagging behind, you tried your best to hurt him anywhere on his body, moving in different directions as you tried to evade his stabs and trying to fit yours in when he moved less than a second just before you could hit him.

The bastard was as good as you had hoped.

He leaned forward, when with a hard blow to your side he knocked you back and you didn't have enough time to compose yourself when with more speed than you had seen anyone move, even Steve, he leaned forward and plunged his knife into your lower abdomen.

Because of the adrenaline you didn't even feel pain, but he took it upon himself to move as if he did, holding you with his left hand on your shoulder as he twisted the blade as if it was his intention to bleed you out on that half snow-covered dirt path under his watchful eye.

That probably was what he wanted. He probably had to give the report that he had seen you die. Maybe he had to bring your body to the real killer.

The only thing you knew was that the soldier lost his senses when he was about to kill someone, because he gave no sign of feeling your hand move across his side, the blade you were holding taking him by surprise as it plunged into his abdomen, close to his lung, letting out a choked exclamation.

An electric current whipped through your body at how his voice seemed to alert something inside your head, your body reacting first in surprise. But the familiarity that echoed through your body like a bell disappeared as soon as the man strided away from you, his right hand grasping the long knife stuck in his side, smart enough not to pull it out immediately or he would surely bleed out walking to wherever he had to go to hide. You couldn't get that mask off, but the tone of his voice kept repeating like a broken record in your head.

You grabbed his knife, right in the middle of your abdomen, barely feeling the twinges of pain as you began to walk backwards, the soldier mimicking your movements, returning to where he had come from. If he hadn't hurt such a crucial spot that you needed to treat as soon as possible, things would've ended very differently.

You walked backwards until he disappeared into the darkness and only then did you begin to pick up your pace, passing the entrance to the town and looking for the center.

If the few people who were around saw you, they preferred to turn a blind eye. It didn't surprise you, when many of them had warned you what would await you if you stepped into the lion's den.

As soon as you arrived at your apartment, with some melted snow near the wound, the first thing you did was to take the phone that Fury had given you before the trip and send the automatic emergency message. Next, you grabbed the first aid kit you had right on the living room table and collapsed on the wooden chair. Treating your own wounds was not something you enjoyed very much and you kept grimacing and moaning as loudly as possible as you tried to sterilize the wound around the razor.

A few minutes later, just as you felt you were about to pass out listening in the background to the blood dripping from your side to the floor, with the crimson on your left hand glistening in the yellow light of the living room, the door to the apartment opened wide. Faces you recognized from the town square rushed in, but your consciousness from blood loss barely allowed you to remember Fury's words as he handed you the phone, only to give you reassurance before succumbing to the darkness.

“SHIELD is worldwide. I know you've been out of that whole spectrum long enough and thanks to Peggy you've never needed it, but this time you'll need all the help you can get. This is an emergency phone. It doesn't take calls, it doesn't make calls. It just sends an emergency message by pressing the button in the middle and I want you to use it when you're at a point where you feel you're not going to make it. I assure you that you won't be alone and, when you least expect it, you'll be back with us.”

-

An incessant throbbing in your head was the first thing that greeted you as you opened your eyes, struggling because they felt extremely heavy. You could barely register that you were dying of thirst with a dry throat, when pain coursed through your body as you tried to get up.

“Hey, careful,” you recognized a male voice and arms land on your shoulders, pushing you back onto the gurney. You moved your gaze, still somewhat disoriented, to meet clear eyes looking back at you. “Are you with me?”

You tried to mumble something, but the lack of fluid generated a coughing fit almost instantly. You felt yourself being leaned forward a little and then a glass cup of water appeared in your vision. You quickly grabbed it, drinking it all in a few seconds. You ignored the throbbing headache and the discomfort in your abdomen to concentrate on your surroundings for the first time.

Steve had returned to sit beside you, a hand holding you by the shoulder just to keep an eye out if you needed anything. His touch brought back memories of the night before, the soldier gripping your shoulder tightly as he pushed by the handle the knife that…

The knife.

“Where's my stuff?”

The blond stood up, moving around the room. You brought a hand to your head feeling incredibly dizzy, the pain in your head wouldn't let up for a second and now everything was spinning around you.

The weight of a small backpack on your legs pushed the pain back into the background, your hands moving quickly to open it and spread its contents all over you.

“It's not here. It's gone, why isn't it- why not-?”

Holding up the backpack, your eyes darted to your hands, images of the night before rushing back into your head, like a fast-moving movie. But there was something you wanted to remember as you looked at your left hand, something you had also thought about when you were in the apartment after sterilizing the wound. There was something… something you wanted to…

“Where's the knife? Why the fuck am I so clean?”

“The knife you had buried in your abdomen?” you turned to look at Steve quickly as soon as you heard him, ignoring the whiplash of pain that shot through your head from the sudden movement.

“Where is it?”

“I don't know, Y/N, I only got here yesterday and you were still unconscious. I haven't even been able to talk to Fury.”

“Yesterday? Yesterday I was unconscious?”

Steve nodded, his confused expression sure matching yours.

No.

You raised your left hand, remembering the crimson glowing under the yellow light.

His blood.

No.

No, no, no.

“No…” you wailed, interlocking your hands before running them over your face, the bent posture causing you some pain in the wound in your abdomen.

“You should lie down,” Steve tried to grab you by the shoulders, but you jerked out of his grip, a seed of helplessness growing in your chest.

“Call Fury, please,” you grabbed him by the wrist, pulling his body close to yours, hoping he could see the need in your eyes and not make you repeat yourself.

“That won't be necessary.”

The voice of the aforementioned filled the room, the memory of his voice before you passed out in the apartment causing you another dizzy spell. You wanted to stop and worry, but as soon as you saw him you opened your mouth to speak, only to get your words stuck when Fury raised a ziplock bag with the knife inside to your full face. You felt a little more relieved, because maybe that would give them a clue, something much better to work with, and you hoped Fury thought the same, but his stoic expression left you much to be desired.

“There were only your prints,” the man confessed, your expression dropping faster than you could process. The incessant dizziness was making you want to vomit.

You felt Steve's gaze sweep the room, shifting from your profile to Fury's, surely full of questions, but fearful that raising his voice was going to cost him too much.

“No…” you wailed again, raising your hand in his direction. “Why did you wash my hand?”

“Were we supposed to let you rot in dried blood for two weeks?”

“Two wee-yes, Nicholas, yes!”

The man frowned at you, passing his gaze over Steve as if he had any idea what was going on.

“It was his blood,” you told the man in front of you, his expression dropping in comprehension. “He stabbed me, but I stabbed him back and had his-his blood all over my hand.”

You wanted to throw yourself on the floor and cry. You had spent ten months waiting for that moment, for that little chance to go one step further and now… now you had nothing. You were at the beginning, with no idea whatsoever of his identity and, worse, him knowing that he wasn't dealing with someone ordinary. He probably already knew everything about you, finding the address of this hospital and heading at this moment to kill you.

He should've known where you lived by now. Two weeks was more than enough. Now he had you on his radar and of course he had the advantage.

“So we're back to square one then,” Fury gave voice to your thoughts, hearing it come from his mouth making it so real you didn't avoid the frustrated growl that left you. “Steve, can you give us a moment?”

“Sure, let me abandon my friend clearly in a stress crisis instead of letting her rest like she needs to, because her wound isn't healing,” Steve spat the words at Fury, who glared back at him incredulously mid-sentence, with you raising your head because you rarely heard Steve talk that way since he came back.

Those were ways to talk about pre-serum Steve and meeting him at times like that really was a band-aid for your heart, but you needed to talk to Fury and you needed to do it right then.

“Steve, I'm fine. Please, I need to talk to him.”

“Why can't you talk about it in front of me?”

“It's confidential information, Rogers.”

“Then make it non-confidential,” the blond determined, his square shoulders showing the tension in his body. “I spent a whole week in the fucking cold of Greenland without hearing from her and every time I called you to ask you told me the same shit. That fucking mission you sent her on almost cost her her life.”

“That's the price for the job,” Fury blurted out, Steve moving back, his face incredulous, as if he'd just slapped him.

“Nicholas,” your low voice brought him back to look at you, his hands clasped behind his back moving to slap his sides, frowning.

“Make up your mind right now, Y/N, you want him to know or not?”

“Know what?”

You growled in frustration, agreeing with Steve that you'd have a meltdown if you didn't figure out a solution for that right then. The room was starting to spin on you the moment you unfocused your eyes on the two of them.

“Do we really have nothing?” you turned to Fury, the man taking that distinction as his answer.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, Steve catching every glance and word that bounced around the room. “The nurses cleaned up the blood completely after they stabilized you.”

“You didn't even consider it?”

“We did, but we took the wrong sample.”

You dropped your head in your hands, feeling defeat and accepting it because there was nothing more you could do.

“Then that's it,” you turned to look at Fury. “He's coming back for me.”

“Him?” Steve came into your peripheral vision, his disgruntled, worried face squeezing your chest.

“The Winter Soldier,” Fury answered for you as you looked down, feeling panic mix with nausea.

“Who?”

“A lethal assassin. Y/N suspected him of being responsible for some unexplained deaths that occurred a few years ago and was investigating him on her own.”

“On her own?” Steve turned to look at you. “A lethal killer?”

“Believe it or not, Steve, I can defend myself on my own.”

“Well, that's pretty clear to me,” he commented gruffly, pointing at you. The fact that you were on a stretcher, no, it didn't help at all, but you had been able to put up a fight before that final blow.

“Anyway, it doesn't matter now. He must have all the information on me by now and he must be tracking me like a damn bloodhound. It won't be long before he gets to this hospital.”

“Hospital?” Fury arched an eyebrow at you, barely seeing it through your eyelashes when you felt a sourness at the back of your throat.

“Wherever we are, Nicholas,” you ran a hand over your mouth, closing your eyes tightly. “I don't know if it's the horrible headache, but I have a severe urge to vomit. Do you guys have any dramamine or something?”

Fury and Steve shared a look and you frowned at them, incredulous.

“Want me to throw up on your feet?”

“You didn't tell her?” Fury turned to Steve, wagging a finger between you and your friend, the blond shrugging his shoulders.

“You didn't give me much time.”

“Guys,” you almost implored the sky, moving to lean back again, catching one of the bedroom windows out of the corner of your eye.

You didn't come across a parking lot or a green space. That wasn't a hospital.

“We're on the SHIELD helicarrier, Y/N, a long way from a hospital,” Fury finally spoke, your gaze falling on the dark blue sea that stretched for miles.

“Shit.”

“I'm going to go get that dramamine,” Steve spoke to Fury, as you lay back on the bed without looking away from the window. The sea sure wasn't going anywhere, but the overwhelming sense of panic at least you could chalk it up to something other than the Winter Soldier.

“What's wrong with her?”

“Sea-phobic.”

-

You took it upon yourself to take a long nap when Fury told you you wouldn't be returning to mainland anytime soon, much less now that there was the desperate possibility that the Winter Soldier was after you.

Steve stayed by your side every step of the way, meeting your every request with patience. He knew that when it came to the sea you turned to jelly, so he took it upon himself to cover the window and keep you stocked with dramamine.

Fury said he would send undercover agents to your apartment and surrounding locations looking for any sightings of the soldier and the very thought sent shivers down your spine. To think that, against all odds, you had faced a fearsome assassin who was almost passed for myth with a small knife, with almost zero chance of beating him and still came out alive. You didn't know how you could continue with the mission, much less now that Fury had told you that you would need more days of rest because the knife with which that man had stabbed you was made of vibranium.

There they had something to work with and Fury assured you, after doing the respective studies, that they would investigate purchases and sales of vibranium near Siberia, if they could get any kind of resource before having to resort to field agents.

That gave you some peace of mind.

“Feeling better now?” Steve was still sitting on the side of the bed, his arms folded across his chest and his expression stoic, though in his eyes you could sense the nobility and his concern. When you nodded, he mimicked your gesture and moved closer to the bed, pulling the chair over with him and resting his arms on the wooden edge. “Now, are you going to tell me why the hell you got involved in investigating a killer who has as many sightings a year as Bigfoot?”

You rolled your eyes at Steve so hard that the twinges in your head almost returned. You moved to lie face up, your face turned in his direction detailing his disgruntled expression.

“You heard Fury,” was all you could say, trying to keep your face as serious as his.

“Yeah, he mentioned some mysterious deaths,” he reminded, not looking at all pleased with that vague piece of information.

“Is that not enough for you?” you arched an eyebrow at him. “The lives of innocent people who have nothing to do with SHIELD are also important.”

“That's not what I meant,” Steve shook his head. “The Winter Soldier has been credited, without proof, with two dozen murders over the last fifty years.”

“So you did your homework,” you looked back up at the ceiling, hearing your friend's irritated hiss.

“He's been in the field for fifty years, and SHIELD started investigating him a year ago?”

“You said it yourself. Knowing if he existed was as rare as proving the existence of Bigfoot,” you turned, Steve's confused look falling in realization.

“You'd been looking for him for a while, but you didn't know it was him.”

“Correct.”

“Because of those deaths Fury mentioned?”

You nodded in his direction.

Steve fell silent, immersed in his own wild thoughts, for a few seconds of conjecture, before speaking again.

“There had to be something about those deaths that motivated you enough to be willing to sacrifice your life like that.”

You hated him. You hated Steve at that moment. Why couldn't he just stick with the simple fact that you wanted to stop a crazed killer? There was also another option you could take, to divert him from the main reason, but you didn't have enough evidence for him to believe you and you couldn't risk him not taking you seriously later on. If the Winter Soldier really started looking for you, maybe he would do you a favor. He would bring all the answers to your playground. Two birds with one stone.

In response you just snorted, turning to look at him once more.

“It doesn't have that deep a meaning, Steve. I found a practically empty report on it one day and Fury told me it was a myth. But there were some coincidences enough to make it not real. So I decided to look into it, yes, on my own.”

You felt horrible when Steve looked away, a layer of embarrassment adorning his features. He was right and he was so insightful and you wanted to tell him, but that truth involved too many burdens that you weren't willing to pass on to him. You and Peggy were in charge of that investigation, Steve didn't have to carry that burden.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #steve rogers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x reader

[crazyhearttragedy]

Can you write something where both Kaz and the female reader think that the other is dead and then somehow Y/n and Kaz see each other and have a reunion? Please have it be romantic

Reunited - Kaz x reader

Author's note: Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy it!

Kaz sat in the dingy tavern, swirling the dregs of his ale around in the mug. It had been months since the end of the heist that had nearly cost him his life. He had lost count of the number of times he had imagined the faces of his friends, only to realize they were gone forever. Jesper, Inej, even Matthias…all of them were dead. And yet, Kaz remained.

He had heard rumors of a woman who had been spotted in the city, a woman who looked suspiciously like Y/n, but he knew better than to believe in false hope. He had seen too many things in his life to believe in miracles.

Y/n, on the other hand, had been wandering the streets of Ketterdam for weeks. She had watched as the city crumbled around her, the remnants of the heist still smoldering in the background. She had searched for any sign of Kaz and the others, but all she found were dead bodies and empty streets.

It seemed like a cruel joke that they were both alive, yet believed the other was gone forever.

It was a cold night when Y/n stumbled upon Kaz's tavern. She recognized him immediately, even from a distance. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way over to him, almost afraid to believe that he was real.

"Kaz," she whispered, barely above a breath.

He looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Y/n?" he gasped.

They stared at each other for a moment, the weight of their emotions almost too much to bear. Kaz stood up from his chair and approached Y/n slowly, as if he was afraid she would disappear at any moment.

They met in the middle of the room, their bodies magnetically attracted to each other. Kaz wrapped his arms around Y/n, holding her tightly as if he would never let go.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered into her hair.

"I thought the same of you," she replied, tears streaming down her face.

They pulled back, both of them searching the other's face for any sign that this was real. And then, without a word, they kissed.

It was a desperate, passionate kiss, born from months of uncertainty and fear. They poured everything they had into it, hoping to make up for lost time.

When they finally pulled apart, they looked at each other with bittersweet tenderness. They knew that the world outside was still dangerous, and that they couldn't stay like this forever.

But for that moment, they were together, alive, and in love. And that was all that mattered.

#y/n #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #six of crows fic #six of crows x reader #six of crows

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 46

You and Joel find out the Fireflies' plan for Ellie. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-45 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 5.3K

Your whole body hurt. It reminded you of when you got thrown from your neighbor’s horse and broke your arm when you were a child. Everything was sore and raw and everything felt ever so slightly wrong. Like something central to you was misaligned. 

“Take it easy,” there was a man’s voice, one you didn’t recognize. You ignored him, shooting up and looking around. He kept his distance, his hands up in front of him. He kept his voice low, gentle. “You’re OK, not going to hurt you…” 

“Where…” you looked around. 

“You’re at a hospital in Salt Lake City,” he said, hands still up. “With the Fireflies. We found you a few hours ago. Sorry for the cold welcome but I don’t think they were expecting you to actually show up…” 

Your head spun a bit as you shifted. You were on a gurney, the room dim. 

“Joel?” You asked. “Ellie? Are they…” 

“They’re fine,” he said, lowering his hands slowly. “Joel is still out but he should be fine, we’re getting things prepped for Ellie right now so we can start our work.” 

You nodded and rubbed your temples. 

“Looks like you’ve been through the mill,” he smiled a little and sat next to you. 

“Yeah, just a bit,” you laughed a little. “It’s a hell scape out there…” 

“Marlene said that you were a doctor?” He asked, looking you over. “That you’d been doing research in Boston about a possible cure?” 

“Well, not a cure,” you said, looking around the room again and spotting your bag in a corner. You slid down from the gurney and went to get it, needing to hold onto the wall for a moment to keep from falling over. But you got the bag and went back to the gurney, setting the bag on top of it. You dug all the way to the bottom, finding your piles of notes. “But a treatment. Something that can be administered immediately after a bite that will slow the progression of cordyceps. If you can amputate the effected area or surgically remove the cordyceps from the tissue, it never reaches the brain and takes over. It’s not perfect and I haven’t done any kind of live trials but it could mean that a bite is no longer a death sentence…” 

“This is incredible,” he was flipping through pages of your work, skimming over it. “Just imagine, with the information we can get from Ellie combined with your research…” 

“I take it you’re a doctor then?” You asked, putting your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. 

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry,” he shook his head and smiled before holding his hand out. “I’m Dr. Jerry Anderson, I’ve been leading the Fireflies’ research into finding a cure. Marlene mentioned you to me when she made it out here. She’d hoped you’d show up at some point but gave up hope about a month back. She was pretty upset, said she thought your work showed a lot of promise…” 

“Well glad to know someone missed something about me,” you said wryly. He laughed a little. “So I guess we’ll be working together then? Or I can at least give you my notes, I know our plan isn’t to stay here forever but I obviously want to help…” 

“Of course, of course,” he nodded, going back to your notes. “We are talking about the single most important medical achievement of mankind here, I’d hope you’d want to be involved!” 

You laughed once and nodded, looking over his arm at your work. 

“I just don’t want to put too much strain on Joel and Ellie,” you said. “They’ve been through a lot. Especially her. There’s a place we want to make it back to, settle for a while. She deserves that, all she’s known is the QZ, she deserves better than that…” 

His jaw clenched for a moment before he spoke again. 

“I have a daughter, not much older than Ellie,” he said, looking down at you. “I’d do anything to make life better for her. But it’s… hard. Knowing that they’re going through something awful, especially when it isn’t their fault.” 

“It really is,” you sighed. “That girl went through so much just to get here. More than any one person should ever go through… Of course a cure is important, it’s the most important thing we could do and I know she wants to do whatever she can for it but I want her to have a chance to be a kid. That’s important, too. Maybe not to the whole world but it’s important.” 

“At least you can know that, whatever happens, it was done to save everyone,” he said. “It’s worth some sacrifice if it saves everyone.” 

There was a knock at the door and a nurse leaned her head in. 

“Doctor?” She said. “We’re about ready for you…” 

“Thanks,” he smiled tightly at her before turning back to you, handing you your notes. “We can talk more later, see if we can find the best applications for your research with what I think we have in Ellie…” 

“Are you running tests on her?” You frowned. “Can I see her?” 

“Not the best time,” he said. “We’re trying to keep the environment contained at the moment. We can talk later…” 

“I’d really like to see her though,” you cut him off. “She’s got to be scared, she’s never been in a place like this and…” 

“Just…” he paused. “Just think about what all we’re going to be able to do with what we’re making here. How many people we’re going to save. We’ll talk in a bit, OK?” 

“But…” You protested, trying to follow him, but he stepped around a large, armed man on his way out and the man pressed you back into the room. You stepped back from him on instinct, his tall, broad body blocking you from getting to the door. He had a rifle in his hands. You swallowed, looking up at him. “I just have a few questions…” 

You went to duck around him but he cut you off. 

“Dr. Anderson wants you to stay here,” he said gruffly. “So you stay here.” 

You frowned. 

“Are you holding me prisoner?” You asked. 

“No,” he said. “Just keeping you here for now.” 

“Sounds an awful lot like holding me prisoner,” you said. The man shrugged, blocking your way to the door. “I’m not going to cause any trouble, I just want…” 

“You can stay put for a bit while the doc does his work,” he replied. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“OK so if I can’t see Ellie can I at least see Joel?” You planted yourself in front of him, your arms crossed. “The man I came in with, just take me to see him. I just want to make sure he’s alright…” 

“You stay. Put.” The man said, voice sharp. You stared him down for another moment before you went to look out the window. Not that you were seriously considering jumping out of it if you were low to the ground but it was tempting. 

Something about this whole situation had set you on edge. Your chest was tight, your stomach in knots. Something felt wrong. You didn’t trust it. You weren’t sure what you didn’t trust yet - if it was Dr. Anderson, if it was being away from Joel and Ellie, if it was just the whole situation in general - but you didn’t trust something. The feeling of something being out of alignment grew more insistent.  

You were pacing, one arm across your stomach with the other propped against it, hand to your mouth, when you heard two sharp pops. The sound made you jump, like gunshots did in the QZ. You frowned and looked toward the man at the door. 

“Did you…” you began but he cut you off. 

“Quiet,” he snapped, looking through the window in the door to your room. His radio crackled to life. 

“Shots fired!” 

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyes wide. 

“Probably fuckin’ raiders,” he said, his grip tightening on his gun. “Stay…” 

“I need to get to Ellie and Joel,” you said quickly, trying to push your way past him but he shoved you back. “Please, I need to get to them, Dr. Anderson said Joel was unconscious and Ellie…” 

“Leave it!” He snapped over his shoulder. “If you get yourself fuckin’ killed you’re of no use to anyone so let me handle it…” 

“Joel was still unconscious!” You tried to run past him but he grabbed you and threw you back into the gurney, sharp pain radiating out from your ribs. You had started crying but you knew it because of the blow. “Please, they’re just going to kill him he won’t even have a chance!” 

There were more gunshots and he glared at you as you pulled yourself to your feet. 

“I was told to keep you in this room and keep you alive,” he snapped, turning the gun on you and pointing it at your thigh. “I will fuckin’ shoot you if you don’t calm down and stay put!” 

More gunshots. They sounded closer now. 

“Please,” you begged again, trying to make yourself stop crying. “I’m sure they got Ellie out but…” 

“The fuck you think you’re gonna do?” He snapped. His eyes were wide, scared. “You’re not gonna last two minutes out there if we’re overrun by fuckin’ raiders! So get out of sight and shut the fuck up before you get us both killed…” 

There were a few more loud pops, so loud that they made you flinch. Some of them must have made it to your level. The man glared at you and jerked his head toward the corner of the room that was against the same wall as the door, where you’d be harder to see if someone just glanced inside. You obeyed, watching him closely. The man clenched his jaw for a moment and went to the holster at his belt and pulled out a pistol. He handed it to you. 

“It’s a full clip,” he said quietly. “If you need it.” 

You just nodded and aimed the gun at the ground, pressing yourself back against the wall. You wiped your eyes and breathed deep. You had to focus. Had to be ready to defend yourself, you couldn’t help Joel and Ellie if you were dead. 

The man was watching through the pane of glass in the door as you tried to calm yourself down. Your thoughts were like a drumbeat, get to Joel get to Joel get to Joel. You had to reach him, had to save him, you and Ellie needed him. It was desperate and gnawing and grasping and you had to get to him. 

The man tensed for a second. 

“Stay put,” he breathed, opening the door slowly, moving almost silently. You closed your eyes for a moment and got ready to move, to try to find Joel, when there were two almost deafening pops. So loud you knew they had to be right outside your door. You jumped and tightened your grip on your pistol, raising it, getting ready to shoot the next person through the door if they were a raider. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, so hard you were certain that someone standing outside would hear it. 

The door opened slowly and you aimed your weapon for a second before you dropped it. 

“Joel!” 

***

You weren’t next to Joel when he woke up. 

It felt like you should have been, though. 

In fairness, it always felt like you should be next to him when he woke up. That had been one of the nice things about traveling with you the last few months, waking up and having you within arm’s reach. He’d started every goddamn day of his life from the time he first touched you feeling disoriented if you weren’t there when he woke up. He’d reach for you, searching, like there was a part of him that was missing. It happened when he thought you were dead, in the glorious few seconds every day where he forgot about the outbreak and didn’t know that you and Sarah were gone. It happened in the QZ, even when Tess was there because she wasn’t you. It happened on the nights on the road where you had second watch and he woke up while you were out of sight and there was the thrill of fear, a spark of wrongness at you being somewhere else. 

But he needed to find you now. Something had happened, he could feel that in his body. He needed to find you and Ellie and make sure everything was OK. 

“You actually fucking did it.” 

The voice was familiar, it took him a second to place it, for his eyes to focus. 

“I thought you were long dead…” 

“Marlene?” He sat up and saw her in the doorway of a hospital room. 

“You are the last person on the planet I’d want to be in debt to,” she hook her head, her small smile dark. “It couldn’t have been Tess who made it this far with them, had to be you?” 

“I’d have it be the other way if I could,” he said, looking around. “Where are they?” 

“They’re fine,” she said. “Doc is awake and has met with our doctor. She’s a little banged up but fine. Ellie doesn’t have a scratch, was mostly worried about the two of you…” 

“Can I see her?” Joel asked, still blinking some disorientation out of his head. 

“How’d you do it?” Marlene asked, ignoring his question. “How’d you make it this far? I had a whole fucking team of guys whose whole job was keeping me alive. We had equipment - trucks, guns - and I still barely made it here. And then there’s you three…” 

“They were determined,” Joel replied. “Did a lot to make it this far…” 

“They’d be dead without you,” she cut him off. “Before you even made it out of Boston, they’d have been dead. Ellie’s a kid, Doc wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it meant saving her own damn life…” 

“I need to see them,” Joel’s chest was tight. He didn’t like this. Something was off, wrong. 

“You can’t,” Marlene said, her voice calm and even. “I’m sorry, Joel.” 

“The fuck you mean I can’t?” He got to his feet. An armed man at Marlene’s side started moving for him but she put an arm out, stopping him. “I need to see them right now, Marlene!” 

“I mean,” she said, still calm. “Doc is getting up to speed on what our doctor’s been doing and Ellie is getting ready for surgery.” 

Joel leaned back against the gurney. You already working made sense, he knew you wanted to get in and get out of here quickly but Ellie…

“Surgery?” He frowned. “You said she was fine, not a scratch, why’s she need surgery? I thought you just needed her blood and shit, to run tests, if she’s fine why’s she need surgery?” 

“Our doctor thinks Ellie has had cordyceps with her since birth,” Marlene said. “They produce a kind of chemical messenger…” 

“So get it from her fuckin’ blood,” Joel snapped. 

“He needs the cordyceps that have grown inside her,” she said. “With them he’s going to produce that chemical messenger, one that makes normal cordyceps recognize Ellie as one of their own, and we can give it to everyone. It’s a cure, Joel. It’s a fucking cure.” 

It was like his brain was a scratched CD for a moment, stuck on one thing she said. 

“Cordyceps grows inside the brain,” he looked at Marlene.

He had to be missing something. That couldn’t be right. Marlene might be an asshole but she wouldn’t murder a child. She wouldn’t hurt Ellie. 

“It does,” she nodded. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, you…” 

“She doesn’t know,” Marlene said. “She’s not afraid, she’ll be unconscious so she won’t feel any pain…” 

Joel’s head spun. It couldn’t be right. They couldn’t want to take her, not like that, not… 

“No,” he snapped, pushing himself off the gurney and going for Marlene. “No, you take me to her! You take me to her right now!” 

She didn’t stop her guard from intervening that time, the butt of his gun slamming into Joel’s stomach, a second blow hitting his head, sending him to the ground. 

“Can’t do that, Joel.” 

“You really think she’s gonna help you if you kill her?” He asked. “Think she’ll do a damn thing to make that cure happen if it comes at the cost of Ellie’s life? You’re not gonna have shit…” 

“Doc won’t let Ellie die in vain,” Marlene said. “She’ll do it. She’ll make sure it works.” 

“Please,” he panted. “Please…” 

“I’m sorry, Joel,” she said quietly. “I truly am, you have no idea how sorry I am.” 

“Then don’t fuckin’ do it!” He said, getting to his feet. “You can’t…” 

“I’ve known her her whole life,” she said. “I was there when she was born, I was there when her mother died after I promised I would protect her daughter. But there is no other choice here, Joel. This is what it takes to get the world back. I have no other choice.” 

He was back in 2003. It was dark, chaotic. He had to get to his daughter and he had to get to you. He had to protect you both, he had to, there was no other option. He had no other choice. 

He looked up at Marlene. 

“I do.” 

She sighed. 

“Get him out of here,” she said to her guard. “Out of town. He acts up, shoot him.” She pulled a knife - Ellie’s knife - and handed it to them. “Give him that.” 

“What about Doc?” He asked. “What about…” 

“Thought you hated her,” she said. “So don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of her. We need what’s in her head, remember? She’ll be safe with us.” 

She left the room ahead of Joel, before the men shoved him forward. She paused and looked back at him. 

“I am sorry, Joel,” she said. “Take care of yourself.” 

They pushed him toward the stairwell and he let them. It was like an out of body experience, like he wasn’t in control. The need to get to Ellie and get to you had taken over. Nothing else mattered, nothing. Not his body or mind, not the lives of the people in this hospital, not hope for humanity, none of it. Get to his daughter, get to you. 

“Keep goin’,” the voice behind him was sharp. Joel had forgotten he was there. He obeyed, going for the stairs. He paused, at a sign indicating the floors. He needed to go up. The men with Joel shoved him down. He let them. 

He needed a gun. The Fireflies weren’t going to just let either of you go. He was going to have to take you from them. He was OK with that. It was worth it. It was worth a whole hell of a lot more than that. 

He stopped on a landing. He didn’t have time to keep going along with them. He had to do this now, he had to get to his daughter and get to you now. 

“The fuck did I say?” The man snapped, shoving Joel into the wall. “Keep. Goin’.” 

He shoved him again and Joel moved fast, whipping around and ripping the gun from his hands. He shot the first man and shoved the other back onto the stairs. The man’s hands went up. 

“Where’s the girl?” Joel asked. He didn’t recognize his own voice. 

“Fuck you,” he spat. 

“I don’t have time for this.” 

Joel shot him, too. He didn’t feel anything when he did it, not the pain he once felt when killing another human being, not relief at taking action, not the push of adrenaline. He was beyond that now, outside what feeling could touch. 

He moved on. 

Up the stairs, next floor, where he heard people moving. He had to make sure there was no one who could interfere, no one who could stop him, not this time. He was not going to let them take you from him. Not you, not his daughter. 

He took another gun and a clip from someone who was dead. They were dead because Joel had killed him. The fact barely registered. The fact that he’d killed at least a dozen people so far barely registered. 

He moved to the next floor. 

The Fireflies were shooting at him but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d only care if they killed him before he could get to his daughter and get to you. As long as he got you both out, they could have him. Get to her, get to you. 

Next floor. 

It was quieter there. He tried to think of how many Fireflies would be here and how many he’d already killed. The last few minutes were a fog. Two dozen dead, at least, he thought. Probably more. There may not be any more left to stop him. 

There were gunshots from the side of him, shattering a pane of glass near his head. Joel turned and shot, dropping the man. Joel went over to him, the man writhing on the ground, gasping for breath. He went to shoot the man again but the gun didn’t fire. Out of ammo. He pulled out the knife - Ellie’s knife - and slit his throat before taking the man’s gun and ammunition. 

Joel looked up. There was a door, one the man was close enough to that he might have been protecting it. It could be you or Ellie. 

He opened it, slowly. 

“Joel!” 

You were against him in a second and he could suddenly feel again, everything becoming bright and harsh. Everything except for you, your warm, soft body holding him to the earth. He could smell your hair and your skin and feel your heart beat against his chest as you clung to him. 

“You’re alive,” you buried your face in his chest and his arms went around you. It was instinctual. “Joel, there are raiders, in the hospital…” 

“No raiders,” he released you and you stepped back from him, frowning up at him. “We have to get Ellie.” 

“What?” You frowned. “I don’t… haven’t you heard the shooting? There’s…” 

“We need to get Ellie,” he said. “Do you know where she is?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “No, they just said they were taking her for tests, they wouldn’t let me see her yet. I’m sure they got her out of here when the shooting started… Joel, what do you mean there aren’t raiders? Who’s…” 

“They’re not running tests,” he said, getting a better grip on his gun. “We have to get her.” 

“What?” Your eyes searched his and he saw himself reflected in you for a moment. The shell he’d become if he failed this time. He saw the brief moment of horror and then understanding, he saw that you knew. He cut you off before you had the chance to ask.

“She’s in surgery,” he said. “They need to take the cordyceps from her, they…” 

“That would kill her,” you stepped back from him, your eyes wide. “Joel, that would kill her, that…” 

“Marlene said she didn’t have another choice,” he said. “We do. We have to get our girl, Baby, we have to get her…” 

You picked up a gun from the ground and put it low in front of you. 

“She’ll probably be in pediatrics,” you said, looking up at Joel. “She’s small, they’re going to want to use the tools that are there. They’ll stick to the surgical wing, no reason to reinvent the wheel and take the procedure anywhere else…” 

Joel nodded once. 

“Stay behind me,” he said. 

He led you past the man he’d killed just outside your door, the linoleum slick with his blood. There was a twinge of something almost like pity in Joel now, seeing the man’s body. He pressed on. Down past the faded and dirty murals of animals, past the body of another man he’d killed to get this far. 

“There,” you nodded down a hall. “It’ll probably be there…” 

Joel wordlessly led the way, peering into rooms until he saw her, through a window in a door. Her small, fragile body on the table, nurses standing next to her, a man in a scrub cap with a scalpel. He opened the door, gun raised. 

“Unhook her,” he said, his voice deadly calm. The women jumped. The man stared at him. 

“Dr. Anderson,” you said softly. “You can’t do this. Please. This will kill her…” 

“It’s the cure,” he looked at you, his eyes darting back to Joel before settling on you. “It’s worth the sacrifice, it’s for all of humanity, it’s…” 

“Unhook her,” Joel said again, stepping closer. “Now.” 

“I’m sorry,” the man said, holding the scalpel up. “I’m sorry, but you can’t take her.” 

Joel aimed for his head, his finger going for the trigger, but you jumped in front of him, your gun held low. 

“Baby,” he said sharply. “Move.” 

“No,” you said. “No, you can’t kill him, you don’t have to kill him. He has a daughter, Joel. He’s a father, just like you. Imagine what would have happened to Sarah if you died. Imagine what would happen to Ellie. You don’t have to kill him…” 

He reached out to sweep you out of the way but you turned before he could get to you, shooting the man in the leg with a small cry. The doctor screamed, dropping the scalpel and collapsing to the ground. Joel lowered his gun. Your eyes were wide, pleading. 

“Get Ellie,” you said. “Joel…” 

He turned the gun on the nurses as you put your pistol in the waistband of your jeans, starting to put a tourniquet around the doctor’s leg. 

“Unhook her,” he said, gun up again. The nurses scrambled to obey this time, pulling a face mask from her and an IV from her arm. She started bleeding where the needle had been and he nodded at it. “Make that stop. Quick.” 

They quickly taped a patch of gauze over the hole in her arm and stepped back again. Joel kept his eyes on them as he slung the strap of his gun over his shoulder and lifted Ellie’s small body, gently, into his arms. 

“You’re OK Baby Girl,” he said quietly. Her head lolled to his shoulder. He could feel her breathing. “You’re OK.” 

You got up from the ground beside the doctor, kicking the scalpel across the room and drawing your gun again. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking around as you backed toward Joel. “I’m sorry it had to be this way but you can’t… We can’t… I’m sorry.” 

You stuck close to Joel as he went for an elevator which, mercifully, still worked. You pushed the button labeled garage. 

“I hope they have trucks,” you said, your grip on the gun tight. 

“Should have let me kill him,” he said. 

You shook your head. 

“I’ll kill to keep you and her safe but I’m not killing if I don’t have to,” you said, your voice firm. “We didn’t have to kill him, he wasn’t armed, there’s nothing he could really do…” 

“He was going to kill her.” 

You took a deep breath. 

“I know,” you said. “I know.” 

The elevator chimed and you went into the garage first, your gun up, ready to shoot. For half a moment, Joel thought it was over. That he could take a car and be done, that there was no one down here and that the worst was over. 

But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. 

“You can’t protect her forever, Joel,” Marlene said. You both turned to face her, her gun up as she prowled closer. “Not in a world like this one. It’s impossible. No one is safe here, that’s the point.” 

“It’s not your choice to make,” he said, holding Ellie’s limp body closer. 

“It’s not yours either,” she said, gun still raised. “It’s hers.” 

“She’s 14 years old, Marlene,” you put yourself between her and Joel, your gun up. He resisted the urge to put you behind him, holding tightly to Ellie. Keeping her safe, that’s what mattered. “It can’t be up to her, she doesn’t understand…” 

“She’s a smart girl, Doc,” she cut you off. “This is what she’d want and you know it.” 

“She’s a child!” Your grip tightened on your gun. “She’s too young to decide something like this! So we’re deciding for her…” 

“She’s going to get torn apart,” Marlene was ignoring you now, looking over you to him. “Or kidnapped by raiders, shot by some asshole. Is that what you want for her, Joel? Do you think that she’ll forgive you if she finds out that you cursed her to live in this world? With these risks?” 

“Rather her be alive to hate me,” he said, looking down at Ellie, his watch reflecting the florescent light of the parking garage in a broken, fractured pattern onto a nearby concrete post. “Don’t care about the rest.” 

“Let us go, Marlene,” you said, backing up toward Joel. “I don’t want to kill you…” 

“We both know you’re not the dangerous one,” Marlene looked at you. “Just put the gun down, we can discuss this. We both know you’re not a killer.” 

You planted your feet.

“For them I am.” 

Marlene realized what was happening half a second before you pulled the trigger and fired just before you did. Time slowed and Joel watched, helpless, as the bullet hit you. He was helpless, just like that night in Texas. He couldn’t do anything but watch you hurt. You stumbled back and fell, keeping your gun clutched in your hand. 

“Go!” You yelled at him, sitting up on your elbow, raising the gun and pointing it at Marlene again. He realized she was on the ground, too, her gun dropped where she’d been standing. “Get Ellie to one of the cars. I’ll be fine, get Ellie to a car…” 

You were panting for breath now and he ran to obey, finding one of the SUVs that the Fireflies were charging a battery on and setting Ellie gently in the back seat. He made sure she was still breathing before going back for you. 

Marlene was struggling to breathe, trying to get back to her gun. Joel met your eyes for a moment and you gave him a nod, letting your weapon fall as you hissed in pain. He picked up Marlene’s gun, standing over her. 

“Please,” she panted, her hands clutched over her stomach where you’d shot her. “Please, don’t do this…” 

“Can’t leave you alive,” he said. “You’d just come after them. You’d just kill them. Can’t let you live.” 

He shot her in the head and her body went limp. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants and knelt beside you, one hand going to cup your cheek, the other around your ribs, holding you up. 

“You’re OK Baby,” he said quickly. “You’re OK, it’s going to be OK…” 

“It’s not bad,” you winced, nodding down at your leg. He adjusted your shirt. There was an entrance wound on the side of your thigh. “It missed the vital stuff and it went clean through, just need to stop the bleeding…” 

“You did good, Baby,” he kissed your forehead. “You did so good.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” you said. 

He lifted you gently into his arms and put you in the passenger seat of the SUV before he unhooked the battery, closed the hood and left the hospital behind.

A/N: Alright folks, this is it. We've got three chapters of this left to go.

I know, I know, I can't believe it either! I hope you enjoyed Joel losing his mind a bit in this chapter and that you'll enjoy what the future holds for our little trio.

Right now, I'm planning to publish again on Tuesday, 7/18; Thursday, 7/20, and close out the series on Friday, 7/21.

I'm going to close the taglist for now since we're so close to the end of this and it's been a bit shoddy anyway (Tumblr just does NOT let me tag some folks and I don't know why!) But thank you to everyone who has shared and commented and liked and followed this story. It sincerely means the world.

Thank you for being here! Love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90@imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk@commanderawkward@n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123@spookyxsam@leeeesahhh @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @pedropascalfan221 @pedr0swh0r3 @pedrobae@fifia-writes@fatima-marisa @acf2023 @1soff@encephalitiskat @ashleymsnodgrass @karlinspace

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender

[tayrcse]

if you ask me to: I’ll Come Running

✎ summary: You get the call you’ve been waiting for.

✎ pairings: JJ Maybank x Reader

✎ tags: @rafedrewandjjs @theouterbanksofsnow @redhead1180

series masterlist

You’re sitting in your bedroom listening to music when your phone starts ringing. You recognize the ringtone to be JJ’s and pick up immediately.

“JJ?” You ask nervously. ‘Why is he calling this late?’ You wonder frantically.

“Hey, (Y/N). You busy?” His voice sounds strained, like he’s in pain.

“No, why? JJ, are you okay?”

“Um, not really. Can— can you come pick me up? I don’t think I should be driving right now,” he says, laughing a little breathlessly.

“Text me the address. I’m on my way,” you tell him, already grabbing your car keys and heading out the door. JJ mumbles some type of acknowledgement that you ignore, and you hang up, plugging the address he sent you into the GPS and peeling out of the driveway.

Your GPS leads you to a house party. The party seems to be in full swing when you pull onto the crowded street. You spot JJ almost immediately. He’s sitting on the curb in front of the house, head in his hands. You pull up in front of him, not bothering to park properly before jumping out of the car and jogging to his side.

“JJ,” you say softly, prompting him to look at you.

When he does, you notice that his eyes are red and puffy. The realization that he’s been crying hits you like a ton of bricks. You’ve only seen him cry a handful of times in the years that you’ve known him, so seeing him like this confuses you.

“Let’s get out of here, J,” you urge softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He begins to stand up but stumbles a bit, leaning on you for support.

“Have you been drinking?” You ask, your voice laced with concern.

“Not enough,” he mumbles, taking a step toward your car. You decide to ignore his retort and help him enter the vehicle instead. Once he’s settled in the passenger seat, you walk to the other side of the car and get in, quickly pulling off the street and heading in the direction of your house. You don’t want Luke seeing him in this state.

The entire ride to your house is silent. You don’t know what to say, and JJ doesn’t offer any information. Once you arrive at your house, you help him into the living room where he plops on your couch, a heavy sigh escaping him. You take the seat next to him, making sure to keep an appropriate distance.

“What happened, J?” You inquire hesitantly.

He sniffles before saying, “Kie and I broke up.”

You’re shocked to say the least. You had been keeping your distance but had heard that they were going strong. You’re sitting in stunned silence when he speaks again.

“Fuck. I knew I should’ve followed the rules. ‘No pogue on pogue macking.’” He rants, doing finger quotes for the last part of the sentence.

“If I had known I was gonna get my heart broken anyway, I would’ve taken the risk with you,” he continues rambling. You almost miss his implication. Almost.

“What did you say?” You ask, eyes wide as saucers.

“If I had known—.”

“I heard what you said,” you cut him off. “I need to know what you meant.”

He finally meets your eyes, and for a moment, his mind seems to clear. “If I knew how it would’ve ended with Kie, I would’ve gone after the girl I really love.”

“And who is that?” You say breathily. You need to hear him say it. You need to know you aren’t imagining his words.

“You, (Y/N). It’s always been you.”

You feel the air leave your lungs at his confession. It’s all you’d ever wanted to hear from him.

“I never should have gotten with Kie, but I was too scared to ruin our friendship to tell you how I felt, so I settled for the next best thing.” JJ explains. “I know it hurt you, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You nod. “I know, J.” A beat of silence. “Where do we go from here?” You ask tentatively.

“I think… I think I want to give us a shot, when I get over this thing with Kie. If you still want me?”

“I’ll alway want you, JJ,” you promise. “But I need to know I’m not a rebound.”

“I understand. I’ll prove to you that you’re not. Whatever it takes.”

Two Months later

You’re the happiest you’ve ever been. You and JJ started officially dating a week ago, and you can safely say that it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed about. He and Kie talked things out for the sake of the friend group and agreed that things were better this way. JJ never missed a chance to prove to you how much he loved you.

You and JJ are lounging in your bed watching TV when he suddenly speaks.

“Thank you for picking up my call that night.”

You look at him, love shining in your eyes. “I’ll always come running if you ask me to.” 

#jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #tayrcse

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Going Out

Whether you loved, liked, were neutral, or outright hated today’s Step by Step episode, I want to talk about one of my most favorite (and poignant) moments of today’s episode.

This hand holding scene. 

But, wka, there are so many other scenes for you to focus on! You say. But, wka, there were multiple spicy scenes you need to do body language break down on. But, wka, last week you wrote a 20 page deep dive in to Pat’s psyche. Why are you hyperfixating on this four minute sequence???

BECAUSE THE SOCIAL COMMENTARY TEE AND THE REST OF THE PRODUCTION TEAM IS GIVING HERE IS BEAUTIFUL, BRILLIANT, AND LOWKEY MAKING ME EMOTIONAL GODDAMMIT. 

As someone with strong, deeply rooted beliefs in empathy, in connection, in harm reduction, I can firmly and sincerely say there are people who I consider a part of my community, who I care for deeply, who are my friends who are homeless, who are drug users, or who are homeless drug users. And having worked in harm reduction before let me tell you how truly wonderful and enraging it is to provide people basic services and treat them with basic goddamn dignity and respect and how genuinely surprised, uncertain, or overjoyed my unhoused and/or drug using loved ones are to have someone who actually cares about them. 

SO, I present those pre-emptive thoughts and personal background as proof of concept for what I am about to glean from this whole scene. 

The scene transitions from flirting to community service when Jeng asks Pat if he wants to come with him to give food to the homeless, and I don’t remember this but @bengiyo did but this is something Jeng has been doing since Episode 1, and it shows in the reception Jeng receives when he arrives to this spot under the bridge.

The people who live here know Jeng, the people who live here like Jeng, he comes here often enough that he has established a rapport with their community and it is so so wonderful for me to see this nepo baby raised on rich bitch juice feeling comfortable and at ease with a group of people that society (at least Western society) almost always ignores, belittles, or downright dehumanizes. 

And if I wasn’t already impressed with how Jeng and Step by Step as a whole was handling its portrayal of cultivated relationships with unhoused people, Jeng takes this even further, when he hands the woman the rest of the food bags: 

Now, this is a brief scene and we don’t get a lot of information at all about the people who are living here, but in my mind, or rather the indication I have for this interaction is that Jeng has identified a community pillar, trusts that community member, and is recognizing and valuing the autonomy of the community to distribute the rest of the resources they have been given. 

Most everyone Jeng handed food to wandered off and went about their night, leaving Jeng and Pat alone to sit and talk. Under a bridge. With homeless people nearby. Rather than leave. This is SO IMPORTANT TO ME. It is SO SO SO important to me that Jeng and Pat don’t just show up, hand out food, and immediately return to Jeng’s fancy car to drive back to Jeng’s fancy condo but that they stay and they talk here under the bridge, maintaining a respectful distance since Jeng and the rest of the people in this scene do not appear to have built a strong enough relationship to join them directly, but sharing space nevertheless.

(I will not talk about barriers, I will not talk about barriers, I absolutely, positively will not talk about how Jeng has spent most of the show with a vertical line between him and Pat, and Put spent most of Episode 7 with vertical lines keeping him out of Pat’s world, and now that Pat and Jeng are an item, they are sitting together inside double barriers, boxing themselves in having a discussion on cruelty because they are still in the phase of their relationship where the two of them are in their own little world and hiding from the world at lar... FUCK I talked about the barriers) 

ANYWAY, I absolutely will not talk any more about the barriers and will instead begin my descent into madness in the form of The Proffering of the Hand. 

The build up to this moment starts when Jeng and Pat settle down to talk. They are sitting as close together as they can be without physically touching, they are openly flirting, they are making prolonged eye contact. Basically, they are being very obviously gooey, and the community member who appears to be the closest to Jeng (this is the person who hugged Jeng when he arrived) comes up to him and Pat, and points out the drawing that he made and the similarities he sees between that drawing and the two of them. 

The drawing is two stick figures of an undetermined gender (or if you want to read it this way, of a visually similar build [ie both people have triangle chests and short hair, no obvious breast tissue, no differentiation in color, they their faces are a little different but they are nearly identical] so you could call this a drawing of a same sex couple and it wouldn’t be wildly off-base, especially not with the original artist here telling Jeng and Pat they look like the drawing). For the sake of making me feel even stronger about my love for this scene, lets say this is a drawing of a same sex couple. 

Now the two lines this person says to Jeng and Pat are particularly striking to me: 

“This picture was drawn by me, you look the same” 

“It looks like us.”

Both of these lines are said by the artist. You can interpret that “it looks like us” line however you want to, but baby that’s queer to me. 

The artist walks away, leaving Jeng smiling softly to himself, thinking about it for approximately three seconds and then proffering his hand. 

Now, Jeng and Pat have not…how you say….been particularly careful about maintaining appropriate distances from each other anywhere since they started jumping each other for sport, but the touches they give to each other in the workplace are secret, are hidden. Hands held between them on the computer in a cubicle where no one can see, arms pressed up against each other so they can be mistaken for just being cramped, footsie under the table away from prying eyes. 

Here, now, is the first time since they got together that Jeng overtly, publicly extends a hand to Pat in a move that cannot be mistaken as anything but romantic. Pat is, rightfully all things considered, a little apprehensive. 

“What is it?” he asks “It’s like the picture that he drew,” with a smile and a soft nod to his hand.

Pat’s brow furrows, he looks to his right, where the people they visited are sitting, he looks to the left his eyes scanning for any other potential witnesses. Pat, who has been the person consistently approaching this relationship with the most caution, is initially hesitant to take Jeng’s hand; Is initially hesitant to confirm their relationship to one another with other people around. 

“No, people will see”

“No one will see” Jeng says, and I want to make it clear here that this is not a situation where Jeng is saying that the unhoused folks sitting nearby aren’t people. 

I interpret it more as there is no one around who would be unsafe for us to be visible to. 

Pat takes Jeng’s hand. Right here, out in the open, with people around him, he takes Pat’s hand in his outside of their houses, outside of Jeng’s car, outside. Outside. OUTSIDE. 

So why is this such a monumental occasion for me? 

I feel like I always say this, so eventually I have to make it happen, that I need to familiarize myself more with Thai social issues, because  I don’t know much about Thai homelessness, and which populations of people are disproportionately represented there. So when I saw this scene, the only way I could approach it was with a Western lens. And  I am comfortable running with my thoughts here using that Western lens because Pat references American homelessness in his conversion with Jeng. 

Which means, dear readers…

The first thing that came to mind for me when Jeng and Pat were visibly queer here was the disproportionate rates of homelessness in the queer community in the United States. 

Let me give you some quick (and very unfun) stats about homelessness and queerness in the United States:

40% of homeless youth are queer

Queer youth are 120% more likely to experience homelessness than non-queer youth 

In one survey, researchers found: 

8% of transgender adults surveyed had experienced homelessness in the past 12 months

3% of cisgender queer adults surveyed had experienced homelessness in the past 12 months 

1% of cisgender heterosexual adults surveyed had experienced homelessness in the past 12 months. 

All this to say, that there are close ties between queer people and homelessness. 

And there is something extremely, extremely powerful in Tee and co. recognizing and affirming that queer people can be safer sharing space with homeless people than they might be sharing space with salarymen at a corporate office. 

For a number of reasons, Pat and Jeng cannot come out at the office, even if that closet is glass. In huge part because a boss and subordinate relationship is a gross imbalance of power, but also because homophobia is rampant in that office. We saw it all the way in the beginning of the show, when Pat was asked if he was a top or bottom. We see it now, when Pat is overhearing his colleagues, his coworkers, that spent the beginning of his time at this office exploiting him to do their labor, saying awful, gross, disgusting shit about him and to him. 

“I didn’t think he’d be working on his knees” 

“Lick until you get your bonus”  These are things Pat is seeing, Pat is hearing in this place full of “people contributing to the betterment of society”, people who have stable housing, and cash to spare, and food to eat. People who aren’t looked down upon by society, people who reflect society’s current ideals and mindsets. The other queer people in the office clocked Jeng immediately, but Pat didn’t and neither did any of the straight employees in the office until Pat and Jeng started hanging around

each other more unable to turn off their heart eyes. Because Jeng is in a position of power, he dresses in traditionally professional clothing every day. Collared shirt of mild color, suit, tie, brown loafers. Compare him to Chot or Pat and you can see how Jeng blends in as straight to people who aren’t trained to clock that shit. Look at Jeng when he’s out of the office and hanging out around Pat, he is in denim, he is in white tank tops, he is wearing a chain. Jeng is putting armor on when he goes to the office. Pat and Chot don’t have that luxury. 

And as a result, Pat and Jeng can only be out and open at home. Until now. Until this moment.

Step by Step definitively established in this one scene, in under FOUR MINUTES that Jeng and Pat, two queer men were made to feel comfortable enough and free enough in this place in this space around people who are often villainized, who are often deprived of human rights, people who are often seen as deserving of their poverty and the treatment they get from others as a result, people who are frequently spoken about as being a negative impact on society (WHICH IS BULLSHIT BY THE WAY HOLY FU- *I am forcibly removed from my pedestal*) because queer people are often villainized, deprived of human rights, seen as deserving of the terrible treatment that they get, and are frequently spoken about as being a negative impact on society. 

And considering the statistics on how many homeless youth are queer, there is something to be said for the way the person who appears the youngest, or who at least is acting the youngest, is the person who initiates the interaction that signals to Jeng that they are safe here. That helps Jeng and Pat realize they can engage in a public display of affection here amongst people who understand. 

And that is one hell of a fucking statement to make if I do say so myself. 

Side Note 1: I was already leaning towards this show being a For, By, and About Queers show. This scene solidified that for me. 

Side Note 2: I am thinking about the BL trope of the BL Bridge, I think this was something that @absolutebl wrote about once, but please correct me if I am wrong. If you are new to BL or otherwise unfamiliar with the trope, it is essentially just a repeated theme in multiple BL shows where one of the couples kisses in front of famous bridges in Bangkok. It is notable that in a show like this that is For, By, and About Queers (and boy do I have more thoughts on when and where and how the connection between Jeng and Pat deepens over the last couple episodes in relation to the workplace and homophobia (see @bengiyo’s quick thoughts which will hopefully become bigger thoughts on queer people and corporate culture)) that Jeng and Pat’s first openly public display of affection happens not on the surface, not lit up by bridge lights, not where the whole world can see them. But underneath a bridge, hidden away with the rest of the people that society has shunned, looked down upon, dehumanized, ignored, and failed to support. 

(tagging @neuroticbookworm who is waiting patiently and @waitmyturtles because if I know one person on this website who is gonna add something incredible to a discussion of homelessness in this scene, it's gonna be my bestie.)

#yall better fucking cry at this one cause I almost cried writing it #step by step #step by step the series #step by step episode 10 #tee bundit #patjeng #jengpat #manben #benman #jeng x pat #pat x jeng #chot x krit #ben bunyapol #man trisanu #bruce sirikorn #dee hup house #i am DEEP in my feelings tonight yall #and now i collapse in to bed because it is *way* past my bedtime #homelessness

[honeypot96]

So, I've never played the Devil May Cry games. However, I've fallen in love with the characters and the storyline. So have this short little Vergil fic that I just had to get out of my head.

If you guys like this, I'll add DMC to my list of fandoms I write for.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, ooc Vergil (maybe? I'm not sure)

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Feral

This job was supposed to be an easy one.

Get in, clear out the nest of demons, and get out.

And yet, here you were, fighting off waves of demons with Vergil, the two of you having separated from Nero and Dante in an attempt to cover more ground.

You are a very skilled fighter. Your ability to keep up with the sons of Sparda in a fight was what had earned you your current job at Devil May Cry.

But, right now, you felt less like a skilled fighter and more like an animal.

The two short swords you typically wielded had found purchase in a pair of demons a while ago and you hadn't been able to recover them since. The only other weapon you had was a dagger about 4 inches in length. It was effective enough, but the lack of distance between you and the creatures left you feeling almost feral. Like a caged beast, lashing out at anything that drew too close.

In a brief moment of hyper awareness, you caught a glimpse of blue leather out of the corner of your eye. You turned your gaze and spotted Vergil only a few feet away from you.

The half-devil hadn't even broken a sweat.

His silver hair was still immaculate and his gaze was as cool and confident as ever.

Vergil moved with such grace that, for a moment, it looked more like a dance.

Then you spotted it, the winged demon flying at Vergil, just out of his line of sight.

The dagger left your hand before you could even think. Within a second, the blade had connected with the creatures head. It landed with such force that it's body was pinned to a nearby wall.

The pride that swelled in your chest was cut short by the immediate realization that you were now without a weapon.

But there wasn't time to dwell on the realization as the demons wasted no time in trying to rip you apart.

You were, once again, a caged beast fighting for survival.

You immediately went on the defensive, dodging and weaving around their attacks as best you could. But there was only so much you could do without a weapon.

You desperately scanned your surroundings for anything to defend yourself.

Then you saw it, just out of the corner of your eye.

A beautiful katana sticking out of a demons body. The white cord wrapped around the hilt looked more like a beacon of hope in that moment.

With no time to think, or even fully recognize the blade, you pulled it from the deceased creature.

The blade was almost electric in your grasp, a strange energy flowing through your body.

It was as if your body began moving on it's own. You cut through every demon that came within reach with a grace you never thought yourself capable of.

As the last of the creatures fell, you were pulled from the haze of battle by a familiar voice.

"Perhaps I should let you use the Yamato more often."

At Vergil's words, you finally looked at the weapon in your hand.

Sure enough, it was the Yamato.

"I- I'm sorry. I di- didn't realize." The shock was clear in your voice.

Vergil never let the katana out of his reach. The blade being in your hand instead of his felt almost like a sin.

But, when you finally met his gaze, there was no anger there. Only pride, and something else that you couldn't quite place.

"It's quite alright." Vergil began to saunter over to you. "It looks better in your hands." He smirked.

"I'd have to disagree." You grinned, a sudden sense of confidence rising at his flirtations.

As Vergil drew closer, you held the hilt out for him to take.

He reached forward and took the hilt his grasp, but he didn't take it. Vergil simply stood there, gazing down at you.

At such close proximity, you were finally able to place that second emotion in his gaze.

It was lust.

Vergil leaned closer, his nose brushing teasingly against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body shuttering in anticipation of what would come next.

His lips brushed gently over yours.

He moved to close what little distance remained and-

"There you two are! We were wondering what was taking so long!"

At the sound of Dante's voice the two of you jolted apart, Vergil taking the Yamato with him.

#honeypot96 #dmc devil may cry #dmc #dmc vergil #vergil devil may cry #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc5 #dmc5 vergil #devil may cry x reader #dmc5 x reader #vergil sparda x reader