#and was genuinely surprised how elaborate that cave was

[hzdtrees]

Caves

#horizon forbidden west #hfw #hfw photomode #technically just one cave #this was an interesting one #because i couldn't remember ever diving into it #or not at length (quite literally) #so mostly i saw this spot where you could enter a cave when i was trying to get a better angle on a tree or two #and since ng+ gives you the mask straight from the beginning #i went to explore #and was genuinely surprised how elaborate that cave was #and how much time you could spend inside of it #most of the caves i've been to so far have been much smaller #with less opportunities to surface too #and i doubt this one is intended to be completed without a mask #because the deeper sections are quite deep #aloy would just drown if you tried (probably)

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

blasphéme

masterlist | part 2 to ‘for i have sinned’

priest!wanda maximoff x reader

18+ : religious themes, sex in a public place, degradation, spanking with an object, slapping, general manhandling from Wanda, dom!wanda, spit kink, choking, strap use (r!receiving) coochieism

a/n : absolute ick that these are genuine bible quotes; also i haven’t written anything for so long so this is a bit shit :/

 “I also want the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves, not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes…”

The priest spoke at the front of the church, glasses perched on the end of his nose, voice gravelly and grating with wrinkled fingers gliding over the ink of the pages as he read. You could only groan internally at the verse he recited, avoiding Wanda’s smirk beside you whilst her hand slid up your bare thigh. Goosebumps littered your skin as her nails scraped upwards, pushing the fabric up your legs in the secrecy of the back pew.

She sat beside you in the back row, behind the crowd of people listening to misogynistic sermons from the unbearable old man at the front. And her fingers inched upwards, hand resting on your upper thigh beneath the skirt she was so adamant you weren’t allowed to wear in church, squeezing the flesh with her nails leaving crescent marks behind. 

“But with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God.”

Wanda smiled amusedly at your scoff with idle stroking of the backs of her fingers across your skin, occasionally daring to push up against your underwear while you squirmed in your seat. 

“A woman should learn in quietness and full submission.”

It was Wanda’s turn to huff a laugh at this, locking eyes with you with a knowing uplift of her eyebrows and a glance at your skirt and your red painted lips. 

“This memo must have slipped right past you.” She whispered with a teasing pinch at your skin and a silenced chuckle at your glare and the yelp you tried to hide with a cough when her hand pushed into your clothed cunt. 

Safe to say she didn’t try to take it easy on you for the remaining time, what felt like hours of Catholic drivel was made more unbearable by the so-called priest beside you. Though she carried herself as a pure and innocent being with that collar around her neck, smiling to the church goers she recognised, feigning an interest in the sermon while her hand took up the space between your legs. You were no longer fooled by her façade, even finding it amusing how false she could be. Shaking hands with the regulars mere hours after they were squeezing at your throat while your lips were claimed by hers. 

The sight of people standing to make their way to the exit of the church had never looked so glorious, you couldn’t take the teasing for much longer, Wanda could feel the wet patch growing on your underwear and disguised her knowing smirk as a smile of fondness to the patrons who greeted her as they left. 

“C’mon church girl, help me set up for this afternoon.” She winked mockingly once you were left alone in the incense smelling room. 

She laughed at the roll of your eyes but you did as you’d learned to do over the past couple of months, bibles were neatly placed along the benches ready for Wanda’s service and everything was straightened out. She watched from beside the altar with her elbow leaning against the table, focused on your every movement which she knew made you uncomfortable. 

“Do you have to stare so much?” You asked her as you walked up to wear she stood cockily, she only hummed in affirmation with a nod while her eyes peered at you over the top of the silver plated goblet pressed to her lips. 

Her lips shone with a layer of deep red when she pulled it away and it took you by surprise the way she grabbed your jaw in one swift movement, pushing your head backwards as she inched closer. 

Wanda looked at you expectantly, you wish you didn’t cave so easily under her stare but you slackened your jaw for her, parting your lips for the earthy red wine to spill from her mouth to yours in an act of dominance she grasped at as often as she could. You swallowed it with a gulp, keeping your eyes trained on hers.

“What did I tell you about wearing this skirt, hm?” She hissed through gritted teeth, you felt yourself shrink at her tone. “And this lipstick.” She tutted, a condescending smile upturning her lips whilst a harsh swipe of her thumb smeared the red across your cheek. “You look like nothing but a cheap whore. Is that how you want people to see you, huh? Is that how you wanna be treated?” 

“You’re overreacting.” You muttered. You knew better than to retaliate, you knew it was coming, the slap against your cheek. Palm hitting against your skin, stinging as your head was jutted to the side and tears welled in your eyes at the feeling. 

The way her hand gripped your arm made you hiss out in pain, feet scuffing against the ground as you stumbled at the shove she gave you, catching yourself with your hands pressed against the back of the nearest pew. But before you had any chance to speak, to move, to do anything, a loud smack landed itself on your upper thigh. 

It echoed around you and you bit back a whine at the pain with the gritting of your teeth, there’s no doubt you’re going to be left with a bruise, especially because another blow landed against your flesh only seconds later. 

“What, you’re gonna beat obedience into me with a fucking bible?” You uttered, glancing at the black, leather bound book in her hand. You were pleased to see her throw you a genuine smile with her laugh but you winced at the soft touch to your welting skin.

“You’re lucky I’m rather fond of you, sweetheart.” She breathed, letting the book land back onto the wooden bench with a thud. She closed the space between you until you could feel the bulge in her trousers against your ass and her front pressed against your back when she moved close enough for her lips to brush against the shell of your ear as she whispered. “And behold, a woman comes to meet him dressed as a harlot and cunning of heart.”

Her voice was rasped and harsh, breath hot against your skin and you couldn’t hold back the groan at the back of your throat when her fingers tangled themselves in the rosary beads hanging from your neck; she bunched them in her hand, pulling them taut until the cross pushed painfully against your throat and your breath was cut short while she held it tight. The beads left dents in the skin of your neck when she loosened her hold, ones she’d no doubt admire later. 

“For the lips of an adulteress drip honey and smoother than oil is her speech.” She rasped with a lick over your pulse point, a hand roaming your body with a squeeze at your breast beneath your shirt and her nails scratching a pathway down the skin of your torso with a light stinging pain left behind. She bypassed the material of your skirt to cup your cunt with a strong hand and a thumb pushing into your clit through your dampening underwear. “But in the end she is bitter as wormwood-” She growled with a tug at the lobe of your ear with her teeth. “Sharp as a two edged sword.”

Your head was spinning at her harsh words and you barely registered the metallic sound of her belt buckle, only being brought back at the teasing of the head of her cock against your hole, she laughed darkly at how wet you were for her. Soaked and dripping onto your thighs. You whimpered at the finger she stroked through your slit, groaning at how she tilted your head backwards by the grip she still held on your necklace. 

“You’re so wet, it’s pathetic really.” She mused, not waiting for a response before shoving her wet digit past your lips and your teeth bit into her flesh at the sudden force of her strap into you, your pussy stretched around her but she kept her hips stilled while she peppered your neck with kisses instead. 

“Wanda, please.”

“Mm mm.” She returned with a shake of her head. “Sinners don’t get rewards without repenting.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” You breathed. “It won’t happen again.”

“You can do better than that, I think. Haven’t I taught you well enough, hm?”

“Obedio patri mio, et reddam pro paccatis meis.” You stuttered out as her thumb brushed over your throbbing clit with your hips twitching at the feeling.

(I will obey my father and pay for my sins)

“I knew you could be a good girl, darling.” Wanda uttered with a snap of her hips thrusting her cock into you in the perfect position with her thumb over your clit along with the pace she began. Your nails dug into the wood of the pew you grasped onto, creaking with each thrust she fucked into you with your breath hitching in your throat, pressure on your neck in a mixture of pleasure and pain. 

Choked moans sounded at the back of your throat, echoing throughout the empty church; colourful light shone onto the pair of you through the stained glass windows. There’s something so amusing about the idea of being fucked by a priest in her church, crucifixes on the wall, bibles along benches and paintings of Virgin Mary herself watching over you. 

Wanda made you feel every inch of her with each push of her hips, her thumb worked on your clit as the tip of her dick hit against your sweet spot and her fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs. She smirked at the sound of your wetness, lips parting with her head thrown back at the way her own clit was rubbing against the strap. 

“God Wanda, ‘m so close.” You moaned out through heaving breaths, your face was flushed hot, your belly twinged with your nearing climax and your shaking legs struggled to keep you upright, relying on the firm hold from Wanda while her own choked moans sounded beside your ear.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Let me hear how much of a little slut you are, hm? How much of a filthy sinner you are.” 

A loud groan fell from your lips that matched the one from Wanda, only pants of breath filling the space between you as you tried to recover. You whined at the empty feeling when she pulled out of you, already missing the filled up feeling while she watched how your cum had coated her cock.

Your slick glistened and she swiped her fingers through it, humming at the tang when she sucked it from her fingertips, licking her tongue over the pads of her digits as she spun you round to face her. You could taste yourself on her lips when they pressed into yours, firm and possessive like the hold she had on your waist. You held her close with your hands tangled in her hair, kisses sloppy and quick, eager with such desperation to go for round two. 

“People will be here soon.” She murmured against the line of your jaw, fiddling with her belt buckle to make herself presentable again. “So messy.” She added in a whisper, swiping her thumb over your lips to neaten up the smeared lipstick on your cheek before doing the same to herself. 

“Is sex in a church a sin?”

“I’m not sure it’s specifically touched on in the bible but I assume so, yes.” She laughed.

“Then I have something to confess. I will take my punishment this evening, if that works for you and the guy upstairs.” 

“That can be arranged.” Wanda grinned, smiling into the kiss she greeted your lips with, pulling away just in time for the large doors to creak open and the footsteps of the first arrivals of the service to echo in the room. 

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda maximov #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you

[thexgrayxlady]

I think I like the idea of Murtagh and Thorn handling side quest type things for a while once they make it out to Mt Angor. As annoyed as Murtagh is that his already abbreviated training keeps getting interrupted, Thorn's the only mature dragon who isn't tied down to one location.

The first time, they're sent up to the north of the spine, near Carvahall. The longer they're up there, the more Murtagh suspects that the villagers did not need the help of a dragon rider to get rid of a particularly vicious cave bear, but he's already here and it's nice to feel useful and wanted and once he gets over himself, he gets to meet Roran. Reuniting with his brother wasn't nearly as horrible as he thought it would be. Adding a cousin to the mix shouldn't be that bad. Once the initial awkwardness is past, they get along like a house on fire. Even so, he tries to leave quietly once the bear's been tracked and dispatched.

Roran's having none of it. He and Thorn are family, even if he is a prickly grouch. They're at least staying for dinner. Thorn will not let him say no. Ismira is delighted by her uncle and his dragon friend. Dinner turns into a few extra days of helping around Carvahall and spending time with his family. By the time he actually leaves, he, Thorn, Katrina, and Roran are plotting to kidnap Eragon and bring him out here for Ismira's birthday.

Then they spend a few weeks in Illeria, trying to help Nasuada negotiate with the mages because the system, as it's currently set up, is a powder keg. They're happy to see Alin settling in nicely and that she's genuinely enjoying the outside world. Murtagh gets to be a fancy boy who knows politics at galas. He's having the time of his life dragging an ambassador for being a bad dancer. The four of them get involved in so many spy thriller shenanigans because Murtagh cannot go five minutes without kicking some kind of hornets nest.

They go north and fight a sea serpent alongside Uvek. Murtagh can only watch with horror while Thorn plunges into the icy abyss to stop it from dragging their boat under. Then lines on their harpoons go slack and come up cut. He's about to dive in after him when Thorn's head breaches the waves.

"She will not trouble your tribes anymore," Thorn says, dragging himself, panting, onto the pack ice, and adds softly, "I could not bear to destroy something with such a beautiful song."

They find more leads on the Draumar, only now they have enough experience to follow them safely.

Of course, half the time they either create or stumble into far more problems than they wanted. Murtagh can escalate taking care of some small time bandits into a narrowly averted major diplomatic incident between the Broddring Empire and Surda in under three minutes. At one point, they go to take care of some minor smuggling and somehow, wind up leading a heist in Ellesmera and both refuse to elaborate on how those two things are connected.

Eragon looses count of the number of times they come back far later than anticipated, and when questioned about it, Murtagh's first answer is just, "Fucking Durza!"

Thorn continues his side quest to get Murtagh laid, only now he's armed with the knowledge of romantic ballads. His arranged meet-cutes with any of the men or women he deems acceptable are met with a resounding lack of success.

Thorn builds his confidence up with bandits and wild animals and more of the little surprises Durza left around the continent. He learns drinking songs and ballads in taverns and from harvest festivals and on the road and eventually starts to share his own work. He watches people change from approaching him with fear, to caution, to acceptance, and eventually to joy.

And slowly, but surely the people of Alagaësia stop feeling dread at the sight of the red dragon and his rider and instead, feel safe.

#Murtagh #Eragon #Look I just want Thorn and Murtagh to have good things happen to them #Is Eragon deliberately sending them to do things to build up their reputation and have positive experiences with other people? Absolutely. #And look I love the idea of Durza just being a fucked up little freak causing problems on purpose #Murtagh develops Personal Beef with a dead shade #This is messy and got way longer than i meant for it to be

[bizlybebo]

Hmmmm. Something tells me you’re thinking about c!ponk (/silly)

oh you beautiful beautiful soul hello

to me cponk is like objectively one of if not the most influential characters to the dsmp because he started it all. he was one of the original eight members and he was the trailblazer for all the lore on like. that first day when eberyeon was fucking with his lemon tree.

i’m not googling anything for this because it’s 2am but i also have like a terrible memory so i may get things wrong or miss them entirely but

i remember being there for sam’s valentines day stream and it was so sweet and funny. the surprise ponk left for him was so fucking elaborate and well put together,, sam was like “ponk made this?? :(“ and it was genuinely such a beautiful moment.

c!ponk was, at her essentials, a character who cared, a character who was along for the ride, who went with the flow of life and the love it brought her, showing her love through jokes and acts of service and gifts.

he loved gently, and he loved sam because he was sam, the friend he knew from day 1, the person who was always around from the start. he remembered every little detail about sam and he utilized all of it. he covered it with a veil of humor but he cared so much.

and yeah, sam loved him back, but sam was too far in deep, he was too committed to that prison and keeping dream in it no matter what and he made a choice.

and yeah i can spiral about that choice all day long but i’m more thinking about the fallout.

do you think ponk used to cut sam’s hair for him, and that after he cut ponk’s arm off, his hair grew long and uncontrollable. do you think his tools began to wear more because ponk would oftentimes repair them for him when he wasn’t using them. do you think he started to be just a little more ruthless because he lost his heart when he lost ponk.

do you think ponk often just spent time wondering if sam was still okay even though he had hurt him so much. even if he wanted to hate him. even if he did hate him at times.

and when he was angry, when he shouted at sam, asking why he “took something that couldn’t be replaced”, his hand, still nobody took him seriously.

everything c!ponk ever had was burnt to the ground. it was how they started and it was how they ended. (as far as i remember i don’t think she got a conclusive finale either which sucks.)

the egg preyed on people’s vulnerabilities, and i don’t think it’s a coincidence that ponk isolated themself in a cave, saying on stream that they were lonely, before joining the eggpire.

i don’t think it’s a coincidence that before joining the eggpire, he tried to speak to sam, who simply ignored the problem at hand and then tried to deflect blame when he got angry at him for cutting his fucking arm off. and then sam just stormed off when ponk was rightfully outraged.

…even then, though, ponk tried to mask her pain with humor, up until the end.

this is just a jumbled mess of thoughts because i’m too tired and too silly for a coordinated rant but here !!

#dsmp #c!ponk #cponk #c!sam #c!awesamdude #cawesamdude #c!awesamponk #thank you for the ask <33 #dream smp #vixen rambles #eggpire #still not ok over cponk btw

[mrs-gauche]

So, I had planned to write a comment on the three published synopses of the upcoming comic series "The Missing" (first volume to release on January 25th btw!), but since @felassan​​ kinda beat me to it and already wrote amazingly detailed posts summing up everything and elaborating further on what I fail to put into words lol, I'm just gonna add my pointless ramblings poor two cents to it now, I guess. 😶

(Beware also of spoilers for Tevinter Nights, Absolution and the comics under the cut!)

(Thanks Dark Horse btw, for already giving away half the plot with these, jeez 😂)

First off, when I first read the second synopsis, not gonna lie, I was genuinely surprised that Solas turned out to be the "former friend" in question. 😂 I know, it was kinda the obvious answer, but maybe that's why I wasn't really expecting it? I think the title also lead me a little astray here? Assuming that the title is actually referring to Solas.. Given the circumstances, referring to Solas as "missing" would be.. pretty funny and also more than a litte strange to me, actually? lol It would definitely raise a few questions here...

So, let us assume that the theory about the eight year timeskip since Trespasser turns out to be true. Have they (the Inquisition) been searching for Solas this entire time? And if that's the case, why is that so funny to me? 😂 (Especially considering the whole ending of Tevinter Nights, even though we can't really tell when exactly that last chaper took place.. Imagine they've been searching for him for the better part of a decade, and then he just pops up with a silly wig and a fake french accent at some tea house one day. lmaoo)

Furthermore, why is it *only* Varric and Harding that seem to be conducting this search? You would think that for something as crucial as finding the person that announced to destroy the world, there would be a few more people on this search than that? lol So, what's the rest of the remains of the Inquisition doing then? Are there several teams searching in different places maybe? To expand this search as far as possible? Maybe they're trying to keep a low profile by searching in teams of two, since it would reduce the risk of Solas finding out about what they're up to? I mean, wasn't that the whole reason for why they even said they needed to "find someone Solas doesn't know"/never sees coming at the end of Trespasser, to try and keep him in the dark about any efforts against him?

Also, speaking of Varric. Assuming that this story takes place after Absolution now, the ending of the series could explain why Varric left Kirkwall and his position as Viscount? Maybe, aside from trying to stop the obvious threat/end of the world, they are now desperate to seek help/information/any answers from Solas on what to do against the corruption of the Blight and the red lyrium spread? (Because if there's *anyone* who would know something, it's him right?) What does the state of the world look like in regards to the Blight and red lyrium in general after a potential eight year timeskip?

Okay, so why would they be searching for Solas in the Deep Roads beneath Marnas Pell then? Honestly, when I read this the first time, my mind (as always lol) immediately went back to the red lyrium idol again. And no, I still don't believe that a single thing about the Bard's tale in Tevinter Nights actually happened (but that's just me). lol So, assuming this happens after the end of TN (and Solas isn’t already in possession of the idol like he claimed), he would still be searching for that flippin thing now, wherever it may be. (How could the idol end up in the Deep Roads beneath Tevinter you ask? No idea. 😂) But I also can't forget about the ominous "Hunt of the Fell Wolf" poem from the Jaws of Hakkon DLC that talks of a demon wolf (Solas?) in a "labyrinth of winding cave" (Deep Roads?) where there's an "idol that could prove the monster’s doom"(!! Coincidence?? I think NOT! lmao).

Btw, wouldn’t it be kinda funny though if Solas was searching for the idol now, while Varric who found the idol with Hawke in the first place, is now searching for Solas? lol

So, what's the plan here exactly? Assuming they would be successful, in which case Varric and Harding find Solas and then.... what? You're telling me Varric and Harding are gonna tie him up and talk him out of his endeavors? 😂 Single-handedly kill him? Torture him with tea? Spy on him? Reminisce about the Inquisition days? lol I honestly think it's more likely that they would try to talk to him, being former friends and all, unless they have some type of super secret weapon against him that we don't know about yet.

So what *would* Solas be doing in the Deep Roads beneath Marnas Pell? (Besides, you know, painting yet another teaser trailer thumbnail for YouTube. lol)

(Our man has been procrastinating hard for the past eight years, painting as many Deep Roads cave walls as possible to avoid going through with his plans. lmao)

It's also worth to remember that a lot of Tevinter was actually build on the ruins of old Elvhenan, which could explain why there are still places with names like "Solas" to be found on the map. (And btw, what is it about this place that lead to it getting this name, anyway? I mean, that name practically guarantees for this place to become relevant in some form down the line in DA4, right? Especially since Solas' line about how he supposedly came from a "small village to the north" won't ever leave my mind and we all know that this man is always telling at least half the truth, so.. could he have been referring to the place literally called Solas, if that's his place of origin or would that be too much on the nose? 😂) Anyway, it definitely raises the question on how old some of these Deep Roads beneath Tevinter actually are and if there could be structures found beneath it that even precede them (like what we saw in The Descent)? And maybe that's part of the reason why Solas would go there..?

Anyway, since none of this actually seems to matter now, because as it turns out in synopsis two, apparently Solas wasn't there after all. 😂 Next stop is Vyrantium and an encounter with "deadly Antivan Crow assassins", which is interesting, since the last we heard of Vyrantium and crows, it was in the "The Wigmaker Job" in TN. Additionally, the cover of volume two features two characters that kinda look like the crows Teia and Viago!

I'll be honest, I had completely forgotten that Teia and Viago even made an appearance in Deception. lol But the look does kinda match? So the question is, what lead Varric and Harding to go from the Deep Roads to Vyrantium and then to the Arlathan Forest?

So, the Arlathan Forest. Again, please check out felassan’s post for more information, they’ve done a fantastic job to write down every important bit to know here. Much like Teia and Viago, it was also featured in both TN and one of the short stories “Ruins of Reality”. As were the characters Strife and Irelin! Could they be the mysterious “Veil Jumpers”? What even is a Veil Jumper, anyway (felassan gave some pretty cool speculations on this!)?

Former DA4 Creative Director Matthew Goldman made an interesting comment on a fanart once, that lead people to speculate that the group of people we've seen in a lot of concept art are called “Veilfire archer”?

..Which does sound to be in the same vein as Veil Jumper, so could they all be part of the same group of people/an entirely new faction even?

(Notice also the recurring background with the golden/autumn leaves. Reminds me of the leaves and branches seen on the (now removed) vinyl cover (showing the Black City *cough* Arlathan *cough*??).)

And lastly, what is this "crucious stone" and how does it relate to literally anything? lol While felassan did speculate about a potential link to Latin/Tevene, someone else pointed out that "crucious" is literally Greek for "crucial". So.. plot crucial stone? lol As in, literally another MacGuffin? (Red lyrium idol, you're getting competition lol) The fact that it's Greek is interesting to me, given that we've been speculating for a while now that BioWare seems to take a lot of inspiration from Greek mythology for anything regarding the ancient elves. 👀 And since we *are* in the *Arlathan* forest here after all, maybe that's where the connection lies..?

People have also pointed out that, based on the track Varric and Harding have been taking so far, first Marnas Pell, then Vyrantium and now the Arlathan Forest...

...assuming that, if they were to go further east, they would end up at the White Spire, which is why some people assume that this is where Solas has to be now. lol

I mean, anything is possible! We know next to nothing about the White Spire (not to be confused with the White Spire in Orlais btw lol), other than it's an Antivan mountain north of the city of Brynnlaw, so there is really nothing else to go on as to why Solas would even be there.. But considering how they are marketing this comic as a direct tie-in for DA4 and there’s still one volume to go (I think?).. Maybe we do end up knowing where Solas is at the end of this comic and this will segue directly into the beginning of DA4 somehow?

(I also want to mention that Rivain is also right next to the White Spire when going even further east. Rivain being also where the main base of a certain guild of treasure hunters is located. Lord of Fortune has been a very popular candidate for the potential next protagonist for a while now. Just saying... 👀)

#''two cents'' it said.. followed by a goddamn essay lmao #I'm sorry 😂 #again please check out felassan's posts though because it's much more elaborative! :) #also I'm a sleep deprived German who sometimes forgets how English even works lol #dragon age the missing #dragon age absolution spoilers #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights #da4 #dragon age 4 #tinfoil time

[neutinya]

Some relationships are you, a human, with a human partner, and other are you, a human, and your 240cm tall monster bf, but that's okay - !! I included their backstory as well as the setting up of the general context for this AU below the cut so if you’re interested,,, do consider reading it fhdjdj;;; I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's super fun to draw monster tooru and his 4 arms lmao I'm super excited for this AU;;; I really wanna draw more of it dndjjxjd

Iwa is monster-hunter royal blood. However he doesn't want to be heir to the monster hunter shit so he decided to run away the day before his coronation??

As a kid he would play with all the monster animals near the forest which is where he met his lizard familiar and llama ceb. The day he runs away he brings them with him??

The moment he ran away from his kingdom and title as prince he was immediately hunted down by hunters sent by his own family for dishonouring them the Iwaizumi name. Like he's straight up wanted??? ahhh

Somewhere along the way he meets Tooru and they probably wouldn't get along at the start

?? Like they meet at some weird beer house?? And Iwa obviously sticks out because he's human and humans aren't exactly super welcomed because of the history between monsters and humans. Iwa being oblivious to the monster world obviously doesn't realise why this four armed dude won't stop pestering him in spite of his attempts to keep a low profile.

Tooru had approached him because he was sure if he didn't step in, Iwa would have been killed

Iwa was initially extremely resistant to Tooru's "advances" until Tooru whispers into Iwa's ear that "I don't know if you realised but almost every monster in this beer house is staring at you with the intent to kill, so unless you want to leave this place alive, play along and let me get you out of here"

And Iwa just looks around the room and he realises that Tooru was right so he plays along and they try to leave but one of the monsters in the beer house walks up to them and asks Tooru to back off so they could kill Iwa, and Tooru is just like "no can do, he's a friend of mine" and the dude is just like "move." But Tooru is adamant much to the annoyance of the other. A fight kinda breaks out, but much to Iwa's surprise, Tooru managed to take all of them down with ease

As they go aside, Iwa just asks Tooru why doesn't he want to kill him like the rest of the monsters and Tooru is just 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷 Iwa apologises for causing such a big commotion and getting Tooru involved unnecessarily. Tooru says it's not a problem and Iwa not really having that much money on him, asks if he could return him in some other way? He offers a family heirloom at first but Tooru is just like "Not interested, although how about you let me tag along wherever you're headed?"

Iwa’s response is just "???" Tooru says "look, you aren't getting anywhere in these parts as a human, if I tag along, you won't have to worry too much about being killed and you returned the favour, it's a win win."

So that's how they kinda go off on their journey!!! Iwa actually learns a lot about monsters from Tooru who seemed much more knowledgeable than he looked (no offense to Tooru but that was Hajime’s genuine first impression) There were so many different types of monsters and Iwa was just?? So amazed and almost excited that there were so many things for him to learn and explore??

Like okay they had a bad first impression but he was kinda starting to like Tooru as a companion, listening to way Tooru told all those stories offered him a comfort that he never had back at home

Tooru did most of the talking honestly but Iwa was always intently listening and Tooru could tell he was intrigued and super attentive so he didn’t mind

He did ask Iwa about why he was wandering around in the first place and why the hell was he just traversing across the land with no plan or knowledge of the terrain. Iwa tells Tooru he ran away from his family but neglected to tell Tooru he was of royal monsterhunter blood. Iwa fires back the same question and Tooru responds saying “I get bored of spending all my time in the same old place every day.” neglecting to tell Iwa the fact that he too was of royal blood, the king to one of the many monster kingdoms. (Actually one of the most feared in fact??)

I was thinking the four armed form isn't his real monster form but a less scary version, he's actually a huge fearsome beast but he would walk around in this form to blend with the common folk. This also explains why people don’t recognize him, because if they really knew who he was, they’d be terrified of him.

Tooru is extremely flirty and generally enjoys teasing Hajime. Iwa's lizard does not like Tooru at all. It would be sitting on Iwa's shoulder, breathing small fireballs at Tooru whenever the brunette got too close- For example, when Tooru tries to wrap an arm around Iwa's shoulder or waist, Haji’s lizard would get extremely angry and began attacking him. Tooru is super upset about this tiny little creature preventing him from getting close to his new human companion, but nevertheless, he learns to pick moments where the lizard is asleep to try and engage with Haji

Sidenote, Iwa is a really fucking good archer and good at knives. He may not have had the heart to be a monster hunter, but he definitely had the physical skills to be one if he desired.

Of course there’s a bunch of shenanigans, but honestly speaking there’s also a good amount of sexual tension?? They have a lot of moments where they kinda save each other, whether it be having run ins with unfriendly monsters or humans, to navigating dangerous terrain and making hard decisions;;

They grow to be rather close friends I would dare say;; In fact, for the most part, Tooru would be Iwa's first genuine friend :(( Iwa was never given the luxury of having friends growing up. He spent most of his time training to be a monster hunter or learning about them, which is why he grew super attached to Tooru platonically at first

Once they have a pretty mean run in where Tooru ends up seriously hurt;; Iwa was so scared that he would lose Tooru at that moment;; Tooru fake dies to kinda tease Iwa but he didn't expect Iwa to cry, so as Iwa is there like "don't die on me you idiot-" Tooru "comes back to life" and is all like "awww is Iwa-chan crying because of me?" And Iwa, embarrassed, just punches him in the chest and wipes away his tears like "shut the fuck up asshole"

Tooru is just like "ow- I may not be dead but I'm still kinda hurt you know?" And Iwa feels bad so he just tries to play it off like "that's what you deserve dumbass" before treating Tooru's wounds. They end up spending the night at this cave near a lake where they decided to stay for a few days since Tooru was pretty beat up and the weather was pretty bad

Haji pretty much nursed Tooru back to health, finding berries, herbs and all that during the day in order to make medicine and food

I think at one point Tooru comments "You're really good at this kinda thing huh?" And Iwa is just confused like "good at what?" And Tooru elaborates "taking care of people. Not everyone can make medicine like you do you know?" And Iwa just says it was nothing and he learned most of it from reading when he was a kid

Also like I said the weather was pretty bad so imagine Iwa curling up next to his llama and lizard for warmth. Tooru finds it so fucking adorable??? Clearly the two of them loved Iwa and vice versa, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous at the sight uxjxhdh

So like one night he just casually says "you guys sure look warm over there" and Iwa just looks at him like 😐

"I gave you my cape you know" and Tooru just "Monsters can't regulate heat like humans do, at least not my species" That was a lie but Iwa didn't know that, so he kinda just looks at Tooru funny before scooting over to Tooru and lying down next to him. His llama and lizard follow, and scoot on Tooru's other side so Tooru is kinda sandwiched in between Haji and the pets. Iwa just mumbles a quiet "now go to sleep dumbass" and Tooru just smiles like a fucking idiot

Iwa quickly dozes off but Tooru not so much, when he was sure Iwa was asleep he gently drapes the cape over Iwa instead before going to bed himself

The next day Iwa is the first to wake up and much to his fucking surprise, he was pretty much incapable of moving because Tooru had somehow wound up hugging him with two of his arms. He was so embarrassed he thought he could die so he could only stay there and not do anything. After while he realises that staying like that could only mean more mental suffering so he slowly tries inching away from Tooru to which he eventually succeeds

He does his morning routine which was to look for berries and herbs because Tooru needed quite a bit of medicine. Tooru was definitely close to being back to his healthy normal self but he still needed to make sure that everything was in check

#oiiwa #iwaoi #I fell in love with a monster king #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #my art #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru #apparently I'm a monster fucker now #and because of that I ended up projecting onto iwa #help

[stressedoutcanary]

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 2]

WORD COUNT :- 2.3k

Warnings ⚠️: I don't even know if there are any...Swearing maybe?, mentions of kidnappings, actual kidnapping oh and also violence and angst :)

A/N 😋: I got lost while writing this so judge accordingly people. Also forgive me for any mistakes. I TRIED.

Part 1 , Part 3

•°•°•°•°

“JASON STOP!!!!!”, your voice echoed in the silent warehouse.

Jason stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard your voice, his mind was brimming with thoughts, questions and worst of all, emotions.

“Well, well, well, look who crawled out of her little cave”, He said smugly as he finally turned around to face you. The voice was his, you’d recognize that voice anywhere but it felt cold, devoid of emotions, hearing him like that sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel your determination slipping.

Even though you had your cowl on, Jason could still see how much his rampage was hurting you but he couldn’t stop now, not when all he had left to do was to capture Joker, beat the living shit out of that asshole and show Bruce how much of a failure Batman’s moral compass really is.

“Well? Got nothing to say now?... Why am I not surprised?”, Jason scoffed.

You took a deep breath, you were breaking down inside but you sure as hell weren’t going to let that stop you. You spoke, voice barely above a whisper,  “Jason...Jay...Stop all this...Please, come home, come back to the--”

“Manor? Home? Did you hit your head (Y/N)? Why in the hell would I ever go back to a place where NOBODY GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, WHERE HE REPLACED ME AS IF I MEANT NOTHING?!”, Jason didn’t want to lose control of himself, not in front of you. So with visible effort he calmed himself down, took a step forward and gave you a deadpan look.

“You all left me”

Your blood boiled at that statement.

“How dare you?! We lost you! We mourned for you! I mourned for you!”

Tears welled up in your eyes, listening to him you wondered whether he truly believed the words actually coming out of his own mouth.

“The Jason I knew was a roughed up street boy who still cared when many didn't, who called Bruce out every step of the way, who had this ridiculous favoritism for bread, who had the guts to take out a tire from the fricking Batmobile”, despite the dreadful situation you smiled remembering those sweet memories.

You looked him in the eye, pleading in a way, and you spoke softly, “The Jason I knew was The Robin to my Batgirl. This-this is just not who you are Jay, not really...So can you just stop?”

He looked unfazed by your words and cocked his head to the side.

“Princess, the only way you can stop me is if you fight me, knock me down real hard, make sure that I won't get back up again. Tell me Batgirl, can you do it? Do you actually have what it takes?”, he waited for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. As expected, all he was met with was silence.

Long, Painful Silence.

With that Jason knew what he had to do, he put on his red helmet and swung out of the nearest window, you couldn't stop him, for all your big talk, you just couldn't. He was right you failed him.

•°•°

You jumped awake with a start, bolting upright and immediately regretting your subconscious decision, the throbbing pain made you clutch the back of your head with your palm and you closed your eyes again to achieve some semblance of reality as a way of grounding yourself.

‘It was just a dream (Y/N)…just...a...dream’

You tried to lie to yourself knowing deep down that it was a memory, something you have already lived through, something you regret everyday. You swallowed the lump in your throat. It felt dry and your whole body was sore. You really should've called in early and then maybe Dick would've been the one stuck in this crapy situation and not you.

Pushing past your perplexed state you got up and took in your surroundings, there were vines hanging from the open roof, a LOT of flowers and some Venus flytraps by the corner. It wouldn’t even take being a detective to figure out where you were; The Botanical Gardens.

“How the hell did I end up here”, you muttered under your breath. This was getting out of hands.

“See Pammy I told ya Girl-Bat would rise and shine by now”

“I can see that Harls”

‘Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, just great, is nobody in Arkham these days’

The duo descended down from the open roof through one of the vines and stood in front of you. Harley looked as happy as a 10 year old about to get their favorite toy and Ivy seemed to be interested in anything and everything that did not concern you. Classic.

“Why the hell did you both kidnap me?”

You jumped forward and grabbed Harley by the collar of her dress, in retrospect it wasn't the best move but it's not like you were thinking straight at the time anyway.

A vine wrapped itself around your waist and you were tugged back by such force that you were sure there was gonna be a big bruise there tomorrow. You skidded across the floor and finally stopped when your back connected with a bench. You were just too drained to fight back so instead you just crawled up and sat on the bench with a grunt.

‘Not fighting my way out of this one so for once let’s try talking’

“Whoa, should ya really be this obnoxious when ya got a concussion?”, Harley burst your thought bubble as she looked you over.

“Wait, Did you just call me obnoxious?!”

“But don'tcha worry I am a doctor and I got a PhD”

“In psychology!”

“I will fix ya in no time”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Just like that you saw Harley leave the room to go get some medical supplies, or well at least you thought that that's what she was going to do, you turned your face towards Ivy hoping that she can fill in the blanks.

“So you both finally done babbling? And here I thought it was never going to end.”, She looked at you from where she was petting her plant, and made her way over to you, something about her seemed genuine. You got the feeling that whatever she had to say, it won't be a lie.

“Try and not mind what Harley does, she's just happy to make new friends for girls night.” She sighed before continuing, “As for your question, last night we were near the Gotham Central Park when we saw a masked man dragging your unconscious body out of a building and into a van parked in the alley, so we kil-- we took care of him and brought you here”, She shrugged as if that explains why the Poison Ivy just saved your life.

"Wait that means Red isn't here", you whispered more to yourself than to others.

“Pam is Red!”, Harley said cheerfully as she came back out nowhere with a bunch of boxes which would've made you very uneasy if your mind wasn't already preoccupied.

“What Harley means to say is that if you are trying to ask about that gun loving leather jacket vigilante who wears a red helmet, then no we don't know where he is”

Her words sunk in and yesterday's memories flashed in your mind, your eyes widened under your mask as the realization hit you like a bus.

The missing people, the creepy mannequins, the medical journals regarding surgeries, the weirdo in the white mask instead of a face, the poster of some Pretty Dolls parlor; Now it all makes sense!

“Pyg!”

"Huh?", the women in front of you almost jumped at your sudden revelation.

“Lazlo Valentin aka Professor Pyg that's the son of a bitch who is behind all this mess, he's the one who has got Red Hood And it's all my fault! Now, He might be dead already! I should've known, I-I should've figured it out quicker, I should've done something, DAMN IT!!”, you buried you face in your hands due to the building frustration within you.

“Don't be like that”, you heard Harley's voice as a hand was placed on your shoulder, she sat down on the bench next to you, you turned your head and eyed her warily, seeing nothing but concern.

“Don't give up. Clearly this Hoodie person means a lot to ya so you get off your ass and go get him, don't you Bat People always find a way”, you looked at her for a moment, then jumped up on your feet.

“Can't believe I am saying this but you are right Harley, I need go and I will find a way to save him, but before leaving I wanna know something”, you looked Ivy in the eyes as you worded your next sentence, “Why save me?”

“It was just my way of replaying you for saving Harls from that clown once”, instead of elaborating Ivy just crossed her hands over her chest waiting for you to leave. You gave her a warm smile, something they are not used to seeing, from a bat of all people.

“Thank you Pamela”

With that you were out of that detour and onto finding the path leading up to Jason.

•°•°

Somehow you reached the safe house without running into some kind of trouble, with how your day has been going, you were completely expecting something else to go wrong. Thankfully it didn't. You took out a spare comms unit, keys for your bike and some aspirin to dull the headache.

Soon you were whizzing past vehicles at full speed triying to contact anyone available at the moment.

“Come on pick up, pick up, pick up! What's the meaning of giving us an emergency button when no one picks the damn thing up”, you spoke into a dead line, wishing you could just bang your head against a wall, on second thought not a good idea.

Two minutes later the call was finally picked up and a screen appeared on the dash of your bike, it was from the batcave and you could see Dick, Damian and Bruce in sitting in front of the computer, Tim was connected from what you assumed to be the titans tower. However Dick was the first one to pop the question.

“(Y/N) what's the emergency? Are you okay? We haven't heard from you since last night”

“Look no time to explain. Jason's been taken by Pyg and I need you guys to give me a location. Now”, you said gritting your teeth as you narrowly missed a truck for the second time this evening.

“Todd's captured? *tt* his incompetence precedes that of Drake”, Damian's snarky remark made Tim snap his head up.

“Hey!”

“Boys”, Bruce's stern voice made them quiet enough for the time being, “Batgirl you are injured and your emotions can compromise the whole rescue, go back to the safe house and let us handle this”, Bruce ended the transmission and it made you angry.

'He said that they are going to handle it, that means they know where he is, so now all I have to do is to get Dick to spill it out'

You dialed Dick back, hoping he would understand what you are trying to do.

“I know why you specifically choose to call me back and No I am not letting you go head first into danger without any of us with you especially when you are compromised”, Dick's tone was stern but laced with concern.

“Dick the last time Bruce said he will handle it, Jason died, look I know what he is trying to say, I get him, I can't blame him for wanting to look after me but you have to understand I have to be the one to get him back”

“Why?!”

“Because I can't lose him again! The last thing that I said to him was that I might never forgive him! Never forgive him for something that's not even his fault! You are my only hope at getting him back, please don't take that away from me, please”, you pleaded with him as you slowed down the bike to a stop.

The line was silent for a while, the thought about saying more to him crossed your mind; what you are feeling about Jason, how much he matters to you, how you've failed him more than once, but ultimately decided against it and instead you just waited for his reply.

You deflated as soon as you realized that the line was cut but the ping of a notification caught your attention; The map to the possible location of Jason.

“Dick Grayson, you big softie”, you smirked, your bike roared as you made your way on to the free way heading fast towards the Gotham outskirts.

Meanwhile at Professor Pyg's 'supervillain headquarters' :

Jason slowly woke up, assessing the situation he quickly came to the conclusion that he messed up and now he is tied up to what seems like dentist's chair.

“Great, there has got to be a new record I've set in this family for messing up and getting kidnapped”, Jason muttered under his breath, he tried to tug at his restraints to get free but it turned out to be fruitless. A blinding light was switch on above him and he grunted due to the intensity.

“Man, what is up with you people and light?! Turn it off already!”, Jason said as he tried to adjust his eyes accordingly, when he came to, he was met with his captor himself.

Jason just stared at the man in front, moving towards him, wearing a pig mask and holding a butcher knife. He has seen enough crazy but this guy might just rival the Joker himself.

“Pyg know you broken. Pyg make you perfect”

“WHAT THE F--”

°•°•°•°•

(I like to think I am funny)

Cute little extra note: Yes it is the second time I'm leaving you guys hanging and NOPE I do not regret my decision.

Tagging: @ladyperceval

#jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #batgirl!reader imagine #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd x batgirl!reader #red hood x batgirl!reader #jason todd #red hood #batfamily

[reidsconverse]

matchmaker • spencer reid

Spencer X Fem!reader

Warnings: None!

Based on this request: Omg blurb where the team is having a night out and the girls and the guys are separated at the bar hanging out and all the girls are talking about who the hottest guy is and everyone says Derek and reader says she thinks spencer is hotter and everyone is kinda shocked and then Penelope tells him/tries to get them together?? (sorry its almost a month late anon)

“Oh my god, look at him go.” Garcia said, pointing at Derek who was currently in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by girls. This came as no surprise to any of you, he was known for his good looks and charming personality, both of those combined made him a catch to most girls.

“God, theres a reason he’s the most attractive guy on the team. Oh look at him move!” She squealed which made you giggle. Yeah, Miss Penelope Garcia was most definitely drunk.

“Hey,” Emily said in disagreement, she was equally as drunk which led to her having even less filter than normal, “Hotch is up there, something about how he’s always so tense just does it for me. I just wanna hold him down, loosen him up and show him who’s actually in charge, y’know.”

JJ groaned in disgust, not wanting to think of her superior in that way, “Ok Emily, time to slow down.” Her mom side coming out as she slyly replaces Emilys vodka with some water.

“What about you Y/N? Derek or Hotch... ooo what about Papa Rossi...? Garcia asked animatedly, wiggling her eyebrows and laughing at her addition of the older man who honestly, you viewed as a father.

“First of all, please never say that again. Secondly, none of them.” You said, taking a sip of your drink, now you certainly weren’t sober, but you also weren’t the drunk enough to reveal your secret crush... or so you thought.

“Oh come on,” JJ spoke up, “you’re telling me you find neither of them attractive.”

“No Jennifer, I just don’t think they’re the most attractive...” You said, a slight smile on your face.

Emily adorably scrunched up her face in confusion before it hit her. “No way... Dr Genius, really?” She didnt mean it in a bad way, you had just never outwardly expressed anything but a friendly interest in the doctor.

You felt the 3 girls stares boring into you and you caved. “Ok Ok, yes personally its Spencer. I’ve liked him since I first started but he would never be interested in me so lets not discuss it”

Penelope’s face lit up at your confession, completely ignoring your request. “Ooooo y/n, oh you have to tell him, oh you’d be so cute together.” Her voice was progressively getting louder and you didnt wanna risk anyone overhearing.

“Pen, seriously, he wouldn’t be interested, I mean he can do so much bett-“ You started, before you were cut off by Penelope.

“Dont be ridiculous, have you seen the way that boy looks at you, he’s totally into you.” She said, and before you could realise what was happening, she was calling him over.

“Penelope no what are you do-,” You began to protest but stopping when he approached the table. “Hey Spence.” You waved up at him, earning a smile in return.

“Hey! What’s up?” He asked.

“Reid, JJ was just about leave and she’s mine and Emily’s ride so I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping our good friend Y/N here company” She said, slightly slurring her words and smiling as she looked back and forth between you and him. Oh my god you were gonna kill her.

“Uhh, sure yeah I have to wait for Derek anyway, I promised to drive him home.” He said, nodding towards the man in the middle of the dancefloor, clearly too drunk to be driving himself.

Penelope glanced at the other two girls, who quickly began gathering their things in order to leave. She placed a hand on Reids shoulder and smiled at him. “You, Spencer Reid, are a good friend.” She said before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Maybe even boyfriend.”

She pulled away before you could say anything back, giggling to herself before wishing us goodbye and joining Emily and JJ by the door.

You watched them leave, as Spencer took a seat next to you, “Sooo... how’s your thesis going?” He asked, genuinely interested in your work which made you smile, Penny was right about one thing, he was a really good friend.

“Uhh its ok, research is a killer and I kinda hit a dead end but i’m getting back into it.” You replied, and he nodded. It was quiet for a second as you fiddled with your glass.

“I-“ “So-“ You both said at the same time, making you laugh nervously.

“You first.” You offered, and he nodded. He also seemed nervous about what he was gonna say which made you curious.

“I- uh, I kinda overheard your conversation earlier...” He said, and your smile instantly dropped, and you could feel your stomach churning. He knew your secret, he knew that you liked him.

“Oh my god, Spencer i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You said, about to begin a rambling of apologies when he quickly cuts you off.

“No! No you didn’t. I just, it was unexpected. Why would you think I wouldn’t be interested?” He asked, head tilting to the side as he looked you like a small confused puppy.

You looked down at your glass and sighed, “C’mon Spence, you’re you...” His confused silence made you elaborate, “You’re amazing Spencer, you’re kind, smart, funny and... and frankly you’re incredibly attractive. You’re way out of my league.”

You looked up when you felt his hand gently graze yours, Spencers aversion to touch was well known by everyone at the fbi, so this physical...almost intimate contact came as surprise.

“I- I’m not good at this,” He stuttered and it was your turn to be confused but luckily he continued. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love you from the first day we met and... I know that might be ridiculous to say because we havent spent much time together and love at first sight isn’t that common, actually a study showed that-“

Whilst you normally loved to listen to your favourite genius ramble on about facts and figures, right now all you wanted was to tell him you loved him too, honestly it felt like a pinch me moment and if it weren’t for the warmth of his hand against yours, you would’ve thought it was a dream.

“Spencer,” You looked up at him and smiled, gently squeezing the hand that was holding yours as reassurance... to tell him it was real, “I love you too.”

He slowly leaned in, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes silently asking if it was ok to kiss you and you didn’t hesitate to pull him forward and do what you had been waiting forever to do, your lips moulding together perfectly as if they were built for each other.

Little did you know that Derek was filming the whole thing to send to Garcia, who no doubt would not stop talking about what a matchmaker she is, and truthfully shes a damn good one.

#3 posts in one day??? #my hotchniss heart won this one sorry #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg fluff #criminal minds #my works!

[ashtheshortstack]

Truth be Told

Rating: G Fandom: Danny Phantom

Sequel to dwelling on deceit

Tags: Valerie POV, Post-PP

Read on ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny Phantom saving the world with his genius plan was something Valerie had to give him kudos for. Especially after he confirmed her suspicions and transformed back into Danny Fenton right before her eyes. She was a bit stunned to see it happen to say the least, but she knew. And was glad she was right.

The Danny she knew was just a dorky, awkward kid that she had ended up crushing on. It was… sudden. And she didn’t quite know how it happened. Little did she know she’d been fraternizing with the enemy. Danny did though. He knew she was hunting him. And yet… still pursued her. Still wanted to feel like a normal kid and date the girl he liked. She couldn’t imagine how hard it’d been for him. How hard she’d made it on him to constantly fight her knowing full and well he didn’t want to.

Dating Danny had been an uphill battle. As much as she liked him, she knew in her heart that he liked someone else more. Valerie wasn’t stupid. She could see the way he looked at Sam. It was selfish of her to confront the goth girl on the issue, but she wanted to hope that Sam would back off. She remembered when she overheard Sam saying that they’d give her a chance for Danny’s sake, but they knew. They knew this wouldn’t work out.

Jeez, Valerie owed Sam an apology. But… that would come later.

When she suited up, she hadn’t expected to find Danny so quickly. And surprisingly… alone? He and Sam had been attached at the hip since the Disasteroid. Valerie had noticed a small class ring on Sam’s finger every day at school when the two walked down the hallway with their fingers intertwined. Which was super lame and definitely not Sam’s color, but was fitting for Danny. She hated to admit that they were cute. As much as it made her want to gag.

He sat upon the town billboard. The one with the dumb “Amity Park: A Nice Place to Live!” slogan. Yeah, Amity Park was a great place to live if you enjoyed the constant ghost attacks. She was sure their town was going to become a tourist attraction not too long after the famous Danny Phantom saved the world.

“Do ghosts normally haunt billboards at night, Phantom?” she teased as she retracted her hoverboard beneath her feet.

“Night is the best time to haunt, Red, makes things spookier,” he replied, not turning to face her yet. His ever charming sarcasm oozed from his voice, but she could place a bit of hesitance in his tone as well.

Poor guy. Danny probably thought the worst of her. She hadn’t spoken to him since they had returned to school. He had spared her a few glances and nervous smiles between classes, but she hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t dared to pop open that can of worms. And yet, there she was… somehow finally finding her courage to speak to him. The boy she had hunted… the boy she had dated.

Her face softened as she smiled. “Hey, Danny.”

He looked at her then, those green eyes piercing and glowing. “Hey, Val,” he smiled. A genuine Danny smile that she had come to appreciate so much.

Valerie took a seat next to him, not sure where to even begin. But Danny took the lead, of course.

“So, how long is this truce thing going to last? I kind of miss you chasing me around with blasters,” he joked with a half hearted shrug.

Valerie chuckled, leaning back on her palms. “I didn’t know you enjoyed fighting so much..”

“Oh, yeah. Screaming in pain, getting caught in nets, even Skulker constantly telling me he wants my pelt on his wall: love it.”

“That’s a little TMI, Danny. I didn’t need to know that you were a masochist.”

Danny gaped at her. “That is not what I--”

Valerie cut him off with a burst of laughter. He pursed his lips, giving her a glare for teasing him but seemed to relax and join in the fit of giggles with her.

When the chuckles died down, Danny finally leaned back on his palms as she was. “You knew, didn’t you?”

She didn’t have to ask him to elaborate. Valerie already knew what he was asking. She looked up, gazing at the stars with a hesitant smile etching at the corner of her lips. “I had a suspicion. That was my fault, though, I shouldn’t have been so nosy and pried.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “No, if anything I was glad you knew. It’s hard explaining why I didn’t like Vlad Masters without a reason. Especially as a ghost.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t like him either.”

Danny snorted at that. “Pretty sure no one likes him anymore, Val. He tried to conquer the world by force and promised safety he couldn’t follow through on. Even my dad hates his old pal Vladdy.”

“Well, I didn’t like him anymore before that. And I tried so hard to play nice so he’d give me information. I think he tried to hint at your identity a few times too.”

Humming, he nodded. “Sounds right. Vlad always had a weird obsession with me.”

“What a freak.”

“A crazed up fruitloop.”

Valerie snorted at that. “I just--I want you to know that I’m happy for you. You’ve never seemed happier and I’m glad. You deserve it, Danny.”

He looked at her, those green eyes seeming to pierce her soul. He really was too kind. Too good, ablet a bit devious at times she knew. He always wanted what was best for everyone. Willingly sacrificed himself for the greater good so many times. And somehow, he was still the dorky unpopular kid at her school. The one she was mean to for so long because she thought that’s what she was supposed to do. Dating Danny had really opened her eyes to the person he could be. It didn’t surprise her one bit that he was Danny Phantom: the ghost hero of Amity Park.

“Thank you.”

The response was so genuine… it made her heart ache. There was a look on his face, however… something that told her there was more he wanted to say. Something in his eyes that didn’t sit well in the pit of her stomach.

“What is it?” she asked.

Danny swallowed, seeming tense. “I have to ask… how do you not hate me? I lied to you--a lot. You were dating me. You were dating Danny Phantom, the literal ghost you wanted to blast to bits and had no idea. Why didn’t you come here screaming at me?”

Sighing, she felt her shoulders sag. “After that stuff with Vlad… and after I figured you out, I had a lot of time to think about it. I was a little angry at first, I guess. But then I thought about how it must’ve been for you. You just wanted to be normal for once. It’d be lame of me to blame you for that. You knew I was literally trying to destroy your other half and yet you still wanted to be with me. I can’t hate you for that.”

He considered her, seeming to soak in her words. When he nodded with a smile, Valerie felt some relief. It wasn’t even a worry she realized she had. She hadn’t thought about Danny fearing how she’d react to him being Phantom. She was glad she could clear that up for him, at least.

Clearing her throat, Valerie quickly realized that sincere conversation was no longer for her. “Sooo, is Tucker seeing anyone?”

He blinked. “Aside from his PDA? No, not that I know of,” Danny paused and grinned. “Why? You interested?”

“I dunno. Dating Amity Park’s youngest mayor in history sounds enticing..”

“What? And dating Amity Park’s ghost superhero isn’t?”

She cocked a brow. “Yeah, but I heard he’s taken.”

“Again, that’s not what I meant.”

“Duh, I know what you meant.” Valerie paused, letting silence wash over her a minute before she sighed and glanced away from him. “We were never going to work, you know that, right?”

He cocked his head in a curious gesture. “What?”

“Danny, you’ve always loved her. Even when you didn’t know it. It was so obvious to everyone else. I just--I just thought I’d take my chances.”

Danny’s cheeks tinged pink (with a little bit of green mixed in, oddly enough.) “Valerie, I liked you. A lot. My feelings for you were real too.”

“‘Liked’ being the operative word. Danny, it’s okay. You don’t have to validate your feelings to me. I know you liked me. I just know you have had stronger feelings for Sam.”

He opened his mouth as if he were going to argue, but snapped his jaw shut quickly. Pursing his lips, he glanced away. “I do. I love her.”

“Have you told her?”

“No…?”

Valerie smacked him on the arm.

“Hey!”

“Why are you telling me, Fenton!? You should be telling Sam that!”

“I will!”

“When?”

“When it feels right!”

Valerie groaned, flopping her head back. “Ughh, you’re such a hopeless romantic. It’s almost gross.”

“Hey! You liked it when I tried to woo you!”

“Maybe so.”

He gave her a knowing look before turning away. “I don’t know how to tell her. I’ll get there, okay?”

Raising her hands in surrender, Valerie caved. “Okay, fine. But do it quick, someone may snatch her up.”

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend, Valerie?”

“Hey, maybe I just want to homie hop. I’ll date Tucker next then steal Sam from right under your nose.”

Snorting, Danny shoved her gently. “As if. Pretty sure she loves me.”

“Uh huh. Maybe she’d say it if you say it first.”

There was a beat of silence, and Valerie worried she had pushed the conversation too far. But Danny surprised her instead.

He smiled at her.

“Can we be like this all the time,” he asked.

“Me threatening to steal your girlfriend?”

He barked a laugh. “No! Just--Just being friends.”

Valerie smiled in return, holding out a hand to him. “Permanent friends truce, then?”

Nodding, he took her hand. “Permanent friends truce.”

When she let go, Valerie turned to look over the streets. As stressful as it could be to live in Amity Park, there’s nowhere else she’d want to go. This was home. These were her people. And she loved her life. It took her a long time to see it. But Amity Park meant so much to her. It was terrifying to know her life was a risk. Her home was at risk. But Danny saved them. Saved her. Just like he always did.

“You want to be a member of Team Phantom?”

“Oh, God,” she made a gagging sound. “You guys have a team name?”

“Hey! We’re cool enough to have a team name.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, Fenton.”

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #danny phantom fanfic #danny fenton #valerie gray #phantom trash #ash writes

[personuhh]

okay so awhile ago you posted something about Yosuke (crazy, right?) and in the tags I believe you mentioned something about how you don’t like Yosukes parents? Could you elaborate? bc I have not stopped thinking about it since you mentioned it (sorry this is so vague my memory is horrid skjdjfjgj)

OYSUEJGHHBKEJHDSGVDH oh my god okay SO. At first I just got ~vibes~ from him... like, I couldn’t quite pin down what made me think he had abusive parents, because obviously he never says anything to indicate it explicitly, but then I started noticing... small things.

I don’t want to say outright that I think they’re abusive (physically or verbally) and I also don’t think that Yosuke hates them, or necessarily even sees anything wrong with how they treat him, but I do think that their behavior has severely impacted Yosuke and led to a lot of the negative traits he displays.

To me, the most telling example is this conversation where he talks about Teddie being praised by his parents for being “thoughtful” very pointedly in front of him. It seems to be a reoccurring thing where they compare him to other people (primarily Teddie) and make him feel inferior. Yosuke’s a bit of a pushover, and frequently gets taken advantage of monetarily, and in this case he’s caved and lent Teddie a significant chunk of his savings for their trip to Tatsumi Port Island... only for him to spend it on presents to suck up to Yosuke’s parents which makes Yosuke look unthoughtful. Yosuke clearly sees it that way, even if Teddie hadn’t intentionally planned it out from the start as such (he calls Teddie “surprisingly shrewd”).

Yosuke gets told off either because a) he didn’t want to fight back/argue, and instead just took a passive stance instead of telling his parents that he was the one to lend Teddie the money in the first place, and thus didn’t have any left to buy them gifts, or b) his parents think so little of him that they don’t believe him at all. He specifically says he doubts his parents understand, which makes me think that he did try to explain the situation.

There are also several instances of a large Junes event being Yosuke’s responsibility, or at least of him thinking that he has to scramble to make things work, like the Junes concert, where he says he’ll have to move away if it doesn’t pan out; maybe this is his own thinking, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if it was something his dad said to scare him into helping, especially considering he MUST know that Yosuke is friends with Rise, or the time during the summer where he calls Yu and begs him to help out. Yosuke isn’t a manager, but he’s still got all the responsibilities of one, and even tries his best to work out other employees’ problems as well (look at his SL).

The Junes concert in particular really sent up some red flags for me, especially because Yosuke says this.

“Awfully nice for some reason”?

Yosuke’s got terrible self-esteem, there are countless times where he’s shown to be overwhelmed and embarrassed by completely genuine praise from his friends. In one of the drama CDs he mentions that he intentionally doesn’t try his best in school because he doesn’t want to disappoint himself by doing poorly while also knowing that he gave his all. It really makes me think that his parents just have an abysmally low opinion of him, and he’s adopted that same view of himself.

There’s also several scenes where he talks about his parents finding his porn (or Teddie showing it to them) and in his SL he says his mom “read the title out loud to [his] family” which on top of obviously indicating his family is pretty conservative about that kind of thing, also means he’s had to learn to be secretive with them to some extent. In Arena, Yosuke’s mother goes as far as burning the porn Teddie finds. Even if it's meant to be humorous, Yosuke's property is still being destroyed.

Now these next few things are more... abstract and can definitely be argued, but personally I still find them important to point out when discussing the topic.

Yosuke obviously struggles with toxic masculinity, and similarly to Kanji, feels like he needs to be the ideal, strong man that protects the weak, etc. Even without looking at specific dialogue, you can tell that Yosuke’s been raised to think he needs to be a “real” man, that displaying more “feminine” behaviors is a sign of weakness; because that isn’t just subtextual, it’s something he very visibly displays, it’s part of his arc. He can’t mourn and cry, he has to get revenge (because he couldn’t protect Saki at the time and he watched helplessly as she died, it makes it his fault), he says hugs are for girls (a common sentiment, but he had to learn it from somewhere), and any time he slips up and reveals his actual feelings, he has to overcompensate, let everyone know that he’s just your average teenage boy who’s definitely interested in women. Yosuke’s not the most masculine guy, he likes fashion and cares about his appearance (the bar is so low) and I’d bet that if he were given space to explore his interests without any expectations, he might actually find he’s into stuff that goes against what he’s been taught. He admits to liking crossdressing, then walks it back; not because he’s ashamed of it (on the contrary, once he realizes people found him cute, he openly brags about it), but because he thinks he SHOULD be ashamed of it.

It’s why he feels so threatened by Kanji, who completely takes him by surprise when he realizes his outer appearance and interests don’t match up. Now Yosuke’s got to compete with Kanji over who’s the manliest, show that he’s not like Kanji, because Kanji’s already accepted that side of himself, and it totally goes against everything Yosuke’s been taught to think is “normal”.

So then we look at lines like this.

On its own it’s nothing special, but it’s not just the slogan itself, it’s the way that Yosuke specifically says that his dad is still saying it. Combining this with what I mentioned previously about Yosuke’s behavior, and a few other tidbits, like Teddie mentioning that he watches violent war movies with Yosuke’s dad, it definitely makes me think he’s the type of guy who’d try and push Yosuke into being more masculine, being a traditional, unshakable, unemotional man.

Lastly, there’s the recently identified album on Yosuke’s shelf in arena, and what do you know, one of the songs on it (The Chain, by Mr. Big) has these lyrics...

In my mind, I see Yosuke’s mother as an incredibly controlling, strict woman who expects her son to be utterly perfect, and even when he’s good, it’s never good enough. Yosuke’s father is busy with Junes, and while he isn’t around the house too often, Yosuke sees him at work quite a bit, large and in-charge, not allowing anyone to see weakness, he leans on his son because he can’t bring himself to ask for help. Yosuke’s left to pick up the slack, and he’s taught by example that relying on others is cowardly, that being intimidating gets you further than being “nice”. Even though Yosuke obviously goes against this, he can't fully commit for fear of standing out and disappointing his parents, and that makes him passive; he ends up being a pushover, and neither of his parents are happy about that. He’s a “disappointment” to them, it’s one of his defining traits that everyone loves to bring up. It's something that's shown to really get under his skin, but he can never do much more than get angry, because he truly thinks he is a disappointment, he doesn't think highly of himself, even if he protests.

Maybe I’m reading into all of these things a little too much, but... I don’t know, I’ve said it before, but I just don’t see how half of Yosuke’s personality would have been shaped by anything other than his parents being Not Great.

#ada's writing #yosuke's parents #yosuke hanamura #yosuke appreciation #WHEW. THIS WAS A LONG ONE. #i literally spent like 3 hours on this and i still couldn't find most of the examples i wanted to lol #mentions of abuse #mentions of neglect #official-redhood #ask ada #ada's analysis #yosuke meta

[collecting-stories]

Playground - JJ Maybank

Request: Hey babe ♥️ can I request 71. “Look I know we don’t know each other that well but I’m still worried about you.” and 123. “If I asked you to stay, would you?” With jj? Just some pure fluff and hear eyes 

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to finish!! I actually wrote it twice so I might post the “alternate version” as well lol

Outer Banks Masterlist 

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

For the longest time your yard had backed up to woods so dense that you couldn’t see the water line passed them. The path to the jetty cut through them and it made night trips in the boat your family owned a little eerier than they should’ve been. It wasn’t until high school that your dad donated the land to the island, giving Figure Eight a beautiful little park, complete with a playground, that it wasn’t really in dire need of. 

Now there were no scary trees at night, just creaky swings and a merry-go-round that screeched when it spun. The equipment had felt outdated when it was put in but your father claimed that he wanted that nostalgia feel of the sort of playground he used to play on with his friends. And why shouldn’t he, it was his money.  

Three weeks into the existence of the playground someone tapped razors to the slide and the whole thing had to be fenced in, your dad blaming the incident on ‘teenagers’ and more specifically ‘those kids from the cut’. He was convinced that some pogue from the cut had come up in the middle of the night and vandalized the park because they were just that bored or just that jealous of Figure Eight.  

“They want a nice park; they should pay for one themselves.” He had grumbled as he watched the fence installation.  

When you pointed out that they’re park had been destroyed in the hurricane, and that the board had yet to finalize a date to even address clean up on that side of the island, no one was privately wealthy enough to pay for the repair, he told you that you were being too liberal.  

You didn’t think too much more about it. The only time you thought about the park was when you had to walk past it to get to the jetty. Otherwise, it was just for kids and you spent most of your time anywhere else on the island. But the chains on the swing still creaked and when you heard them that night, closing in on midnight and far too late for anyone to really be there, you went to your open window and looked out.  

In any logical scenario you always hoped you were the levelheaded, immediately call the cops friend who didn’t take any risks. But it turned out that nigh that you were the ‘investigate first, ask questions later’ type. You grabbed your phone and walked out to the small park, standing on the other side of the fence and shining a light through the rungs at the kid on the swings.  

“What the fuck, turn that off.” He cursed, holding his hand up to block his eyes from the light. It did little to shield the rest of his face and when you got a good look at the bruising eye and bloody lip you were immediately concerned. Some stranger was bleeding on your dad’s swingset and he looked about the same age as you.  

“Are you okay?” You asked, shifting your phone so the light was hitting a beat up pair of boots on his feet and not his face. Would it be weird if you invited him in. Your mom kept a surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet, ready for any scenario in the entire world, including but not limited to, you bringing in a stray person.  

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” You commented. When he said nothing in reply you offered your name, hoping that the introduction might help ease some tension. Or at least get him to consider admitting that he wasn’t doing so great for a Tuesday night.

“I said I’m fine.” He repeated, not offering a name in return. You noticed when your flashlight shifted again, that he was holding his side, leaning against the chain of the swing.  

“Did you climb over the fence?” You chanced asking, looking up. The fence was arguably seven feet and, though you were not a great climber, you liked to think there was still some part of you that could’ve climbed a chain-link fence if you wanted to. But not this one.  

“The gate was unlocked.” He replied, nodding his head to the gate that was, in fact, open.  

“Oh.”

“I thought this was a public park.”

“I mean, kinda.” You admitted. Public in the sense that anyone on the Eight could use it whenever they wanted but not in the sense that anyone could use it whenever they wanted. And this kid was not from the Eight. “Are you sure you’re okay? I have some first aid stuff inside my house. I’m just right there.” You turned, waving your light toward the house directly in front of the park.  

“I’m fine.” He said and you joined at the end of the two word sentence.

“Yeah, of course. Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you.”  

“Why?” He asked.  

“Because you seem upset.” You said. Sure, he was hurt physically and that definitely wasn’t great, but more so he just looked so sad, even in the dark when you were concentrating the light on his boots. He looked upset and tired and sad.  

“Do you have any tylenol?” He asked.  

You smiled, it was a break through, probably not one you should’ve been celebrating too much because he was still a stranger and this could have all been some bizarre and elaborate rouse based solely on the coincidence that you were gullible enough to walk outside and see who was in the playground. Or even that you were still awake.  

“What’s with the gate anyway?” He asked, standing and walking toward you, there was a slight catch in his step, as if walking was hurting him.

“A couple kooks put razors on the playground. My dad put the fence up for protection...he’s convinced it’s pogues.”

“How do you know it’s not?” He asked, falling in step beside you as you walked him to your home as if the two of you were lifelong friends. You led him in the laundry entrance, letting him sit in the comfy chair that was in the mud room.  

“Because, I know which kooks did it.” You shrugged. “What’s your name?”  

“JJ.”  

“Well, JJ, are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, handing over the Tylenol and a glass of water, “I have like...bandages and stuff.” In the light you could see him better, you could see the deep bruising on his right eye and cheek. The cut on his bottom lip that had opened while he was talking, red stained on his chin. You handed off a wet washcloth.  

“I’m fine,” he said it again but this time the resolve seemed to have dwindled. He sunk down in the chair, holding the washcloth to his mouth.  

You frowned, however fine he kept saying he was you were positive it was a lie. You weren’t sure how he’d gotten the injuries; you knew there had been some kook on pogue violence lately and you figured that maybe it was from that. “If I asked you to stay, would you?”

“Why?” He asked, looking genuinely surprised by your question.  

“I’m worried about you,” you shrugged, “looks like you could use some company?”

“I’m not the kind of company you’re looking for.”

“This isn’t some After movie...I’m just saying I’ve got some popcorn and some weed and a never-ending list of movies to watch on Netflix.” You said, grabbing a water bottle for yourself out of the fridge in the mudroom.  

“Yeah alright,” JJ agreed, “have you ever seen Killer Klowns from Outer Space?”

“I asked you to hang out and watch a movie with me and your first suggestion is Killer Klowns?” You asked, trying not to laugh as you led him into the basement.

“You said it was chill.”  

“Yes I did.” You replied, caving to his movie option.  

-

taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @teamnick @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi  @vitaminekabc @minigranger @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe 

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj fic #jj imagine #jj fanfic #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #obx fic #collecting stories imagine

[let-them-read-fics]

Die For You

Requested by Anon: “hi :) can I request Jennie scenario based on The Weeknd’s song ‘Die For You’? I also wanted to say I really love your works, they’re really good”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,705

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Fluff, Near-Death Experience, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Thank you anon! My schedule is getting busy again, so writings may take a bit longer to get posted; I apologize for the delay with this one, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Let me know what you guys think!

PS ~ This is my first time writing a song request, so I kind of just went with it lol. It’s a little messy, but I think it has charm. Happy reading!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jennie Kim has a magnetic pull to her -- one that is relentless and unwavering once it takes control of you. It’s hypnotic in every way; sweet torture in its truest form; and you’re always left to pick up the pieces.

The arrangement that you share with Jennie has been clear from the get-go: friends with benefits, no strings attached. Neither of you have time for anything serious, and this seemed like a win-win: always having someone to come home to when you happened to be in the same area at the same time? Hell yeah. 

You hate that you want me

Hate it when you cry

You're scared to be lonely

'Specially in the night

Gradually, though, things got messy -- lines became blurred as feelings mixed into the equation. You did everything in your power to make them go away, reminding yourself time and time again of the agreement you had. But in moments like these, as you lay in bed with Jennie, her head resting on your chest as your hand runs through her hair, you can’t help how your heart swells. Pale moonlight traces patterns on the floor, wiggling its way into the room to offer a soft glow and ambiance. In here, you’re untouchable: no cameras or prying eyes; it’s just you and Jennie, free to be yourselves. Given this fact, you’ve grown to have a love-hate relationship with these four walls; they’re your haven -- your refuge -- but they serve as a brutal reminder of just how limited your relationship with Jennie is.

Nothing is certain: weeks turn into months -- especially when she’s on tour or otherwise occupied with her busy schedule -- and you’re left to your own devices, waiting on her return. Each day without her brings you closer to believing that you’re strong enough to move onto something better -- something more consistent; but then there she is, knocking on your door again, completely pushing that absurd idea from your mind. One smile from her is enough to reel you back in, and it only makes you feel more conflicted. 

Jennie stirs in her sleep, nuzzling her face closer into you as she brings a hand up to rest against your collarbone. Her body twitches lightly, lips pursing and pouting against your neck, and you wonder what she’s dreaming about. She doesn’t seem to be distressed in any way, so you take the opportunity to get a good look at her. Within the next couple hours the alarm would be blaring that sound that you despise more than anything else in this world, signalling for her to get ready and head off to the airport to leave you all over again. Despite the circumstances, you're comforted by the fact that she always makes sure to set it for the very last second, barely giving herself enough time to catch her flight -- she wants to spend every moment possible with you, and she makes it a point to do just that. Tearful goodbyes in the back of your car would be too involved for your “relationship”, so you always try to seem unaffected (or, at least, as close to that as you can manage). You save your tears for when you arrive back home, where you spend the evening coming to terms with her absence. She would never tell you, of course, but her flights are known to bear witness to plenty of sadness for her as well; with each new mile added to the distance between the two of you, her heart breaks a little more.

~~~~~~~

It’s been 4 months since you last saw Jennie. The time apart had offered you a new perspective, something in the long nights without her affirming what you already knew to be true -- you weren’t capable of continuing on like this much longer. Nothing about your situation was ever simple; the instant you began catching feelings, it all became muddled. The one rule set -- the only principle you were tasked with following -- had been broken, and there was nothing you could do to repair it. 

A knock at your door echoes out across the empty apartment, and you quickly put down the food that you had been preparing. With a swift adjustment of the dial, you set the burner to simmer and make your way to the door. None of your friends had mentioned that they were coming by, so you’re genuinely clueless as to who it could be. 

“Jennie?” Surprise is inadequate in describing the feeling that courses through you upon meeting that familiar gaze. The metal of the knob is cool in your hand as you grip it, knuckles turning white while your emotions run wild. She had failed to let you know that she was coming back to town, neglecting even to text you recently.  

“Miss me?” How are you to answer that? Part of you wants to blurt out your thoughts, effectively ripping the metaphorical band aid right off, but another part of you wants to deny her: the past few months had allowed your feelings to become somewhat dormant as you attempted to see a future beyond this arrangement, one void of her presence. It’s completely normal to feel like that, you tell yourself. It’s strange, but as in love with her as you are, you’re almost as equally indifferent about it all. How many more times could you watch her walk away, only to string you along until she came waltzing right back in? 

The more important question of the matter is apparent: how would you even begin to tell her what you’re feeling? In the past, you’ve tried to make her aware of what you’re going through, only to be met by a change of topic. She always stayed reserved, opting to spend your time together talking about anything other than that.

Deciding that you were taking far too long to respond to her, she steps into the room, closing the door behind her. The time away from you had affected her more than she’s willing to admit, and she’s more than ready to embrace you. Her arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body flush up against hers, and she sighs at the feeling. “I’ve missed holding you, Y/N.” The sweet nothing does it’s job, making your heart flutter as the words register in your mind. You’re still tense, though, and she doesn’t fail to notice; before long, soft kisses are being trailed across your face -- her attempt at relaxing you. Sometimes you wonder if she knows your body better than you do: it responds to her, just like she knew it would, and you loosen up. 

After what feels like minutes of just standing there, bodies intertwined, her hands make their way to your hips. She leans forward and ghosts her lips over yours, her gloss smudging a bit in the process. A battle is being fought in your mind: should you allow yourself this indulgence? Or is this the time to be strong and finally put your foot down? The choice is made up for you by the way that she slowly backs you up against the wall, along with how her mouth brushes against yours as her warm hands steady you. Before you can stop yourself, you close the distance. 

Her lips move against yours in perfect time, a delicious rhythm being set in the process. It brings to mind the notion that maybe -- just maybe -- the two of you are meant to be. After all, you fit together like a puzzle, being complete in the presence of one another. 

As her fingers play at the band of your shorts, hands roaming further with each needy kiss she presses to your lips, you debate with yourself. Her actions tempt you to cave in and give yourself up to her, but you decide that you can’t go down that road again. At least not until everything gets sorted. Quickly -- as to not give her anymore time to change your mind -- you step back and run a hand through your hair. Hers is messy, lips red and pupils blown wide. She reaches out for you again, but you simply hold your hand up in response.

“I can’t, Jennie.” The words come out as a reluctant declaration, your tone sounding tired.

Her brows furrow, but you continue.

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Elaborate.” Her demand is clear, but you miss the effort that it took for her to come off that way. At your words, panic began to course through her; she can’t lose you. 

“Whatever this is,” you say, motioning between the two of you. “I can’t be someone who waits around for you all the time, just keeping your bed warm.” She wants to laugh at that one; it’s almost comical how far you are from the truth. Jennie knows she’s good at hiding her feelings, but she’s shocked that she managed to make you believe something that ridiculous about yourself. You mean the world to her -- she’s just too afraid to admit it.

“Y/N--”

“No, don’t even try to change the subject; I’m sick of it. Please, just listen to me for once.”

A subtle nod from her serves as your cue to continue.

“I never meant for things to get like this, Jennie, believe me. But I can’t pretend anymore: I like you, a lot. And after having you in the ways that I’ve had you…” you pause, allowing your eyes to trail up and down her body as you clench your jaw, “I can’t bear the thought of someone taking my place when I’m not around. Do you know how hard that is to deal with?”

Happens every time

I'm scared that I'll miss you

I don't want this feelin'

I can't afford love

She seems stunned, to say the least; she blinks a few times before gathering her thoughts and speaking up. “You’re all I think about, no matter what I’m doing.” For a second, you’re hopeful: your heart beats a little faster at her confession, and you finally believe you’re getting somewhere with her. Sadly, she continues: “But I can’t afford that. I don’t have time for a commitment like that, and we have something good right now. I’ve seen plenty of relationships go bad and end in heartbreak; why should we risk it?”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Sometimes I really start to think that you like me back, but then you’re as guarded as ever, pushing me away again. I never know where I stand with you. So unless you tell me how you honestly feel, you’ll have to take me off your list of fuck buddies.”

Your language catches her off guard, seeing as how it’s unexpected and unlike you. How are you so oblivious? You’re so much more than that to her.

“Fine, Y/N! I’m in deeper than I care to admit. I’ve tried to run from it, but I can’t. You’re the one person I can’t seem to forget, and I can’t stand you because of that. And yeah..” she pauses, a bit exasperated, and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I won’t deny that I’ve been with other people when I’m away.” You close your eyes at her admission, that familiar sadness beginning to seep in -- it wasn’t anything you didn’t already know, but that doesn’t make its confirmation any easier to hear. 

“They’re not you, though. They don’t know me like you do… they’re not fun like you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I don’t want to. It terrifies me.”

“That’s kinda part of the deal, Jennie -- it’s a scary thing. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I’m willing to try with you. What we have right now is wearing me down, and I don’t deserve it; so either listen to your heart and be with me, or you won’t be seeing me again.”

Following your ultimatum, she doesn’t dare speak. Her brows are slightly furrowed again, jaw set, and she’s looking at the ground. Out of habit, your arms cross against your chest -- being vulnerable is never something you particularly enjoy (especially with so much on the line) but you’re sick of beating around the bush with her. One of the first lessons you ever learned from Jennie is that she avoids her feelings at all costs; so, standing there, you wonder what it would take to make her finally open up. Would your absence be enough? Maybe you were foolish for thinking so.

With every second that passes, silence remaining unbroken by the words that you so desperately want to hear from her, your heart sinks more and more. Every insecurity you have is swirling in your mind, further clouding it. Her lack of a response confirms your fears, and you nod quickly, knowing what you have to do. 

“Okay, I get it. I’m gonna take a walk, but you can stay here and take a shower since you just got in. When I come back, though, I want you gone.”

She doesn’t even raise her head to look at you. Inside, her heart is breaking; every fiber of her being is begging to say something -- anything -- but she stays quiet. It’s hard enough for her to keep her feelings for you in check with the arrangement you have now; if you become official, she won’t know what to do with herself. She’s falling hard, but she’s fighting it all the while -- her lifestyle doesn’t have room for love. You deserve someone who can be with you whenever you want them, not someone who’s always a world away. Calls and texts only go so far, and she knows it wouldn’t be enough for either of you. She’s spent your latest stint apart attempting to come to terms with the idea of life without you; it’s the last thing she wants, but she needs you to move on and find someone better. For you, she’s willing to hurt, so long as it means you’re happy. 

After a beat, she accepts your words, confirming that she heard you by giving a simple nod. Any remaining hope you were clinging to fades away completely, and you’re left feeling empty. Now at the coat rack, you pull your jacket over your shoulders and slip your shoes on. “There’s food on the stove, by the way. Don’t let it burn.” You say over your shoulder, too sad to look at her again. Maybe that’s some sort of symbolism: the wonderful thing you had spent so long creating was fizzling out right in front of you, Jennie being the one who could fix it all. She can step up and repair things, but that doesn’t seem very likely to happen. Tears are brimming in your eyes, and her heart breaks at the sound of your sniffles. 

Even though we're going through it

And it makes you feel alone

With a thud, the apartment door closes, and Jennie finally breaks down. It all hits her in an instant, and soon she’s sliding down to the floor, her tears mimicking her actions as they fall onto her cheeks. Why did this have to be so hard? Seeing the pain etched so plainly into your features was definitely the hardest part to all of this; she’s being cruel to be kind… if only you knew that. 

I try to find reason to pull us apart

It ain't workin' 'cause you're perfect

And I know that you're worth it

I can't walk away, oh!

As soon as Jennie had realized her feelings all that time ago, she racked her brain for any and every logical reason to end things. She would pick fights over small things, praying to every higher power that you’d get tired of the stupidity and give up on her. So many other people had in the past, so why wouldn’t you? Knowing that you’re different from all the rest -- perfect for her in every way imaginable -- only scares her more. You lit a fire in her heart the day you met, and it’s only grown stronger ever since. 

~~~~~~~

20 Minutes Later

You have no real destination in mind; you’re content with just allowing your feet to take you wherever they wish to go.

Chatter from across the city makes its way to your ears, oddly offering a sense of comfort in your time of need. The night sky is full of stars, and the city bustles with life and activity. As you pass different businesses and shops, their iridescent lights shine just for you. Distant cars honk as they traverse the streets, and your mind begins to think of all of the different things those people might be doing right now. Surely some are having a great day, maybe on their way home, eager to be greeted by their loved ones. Others might be hurting just like you.

And you won't find no one that's better

'Cause I'm right for you, babe

I think I'm right for you, babe

Jennie fails to realize that all you want is her; you’re not naive -- you know how crazy her schedule is, but you’re more than willing to make sacrifices if it means she’ll be yours. No one makes you feel the way she does, and the thought of spending your life searching for something that can never compare scares you. 

A slight breeze rolls in, ghosting over your skin, and you’re reminded of all the times she would pull you in close to keep you warm. Her sweet perfume would fill your nose as you snuggled into her embrace, sharing the heat that her coat offered. Getting over her would definitely be a bitch.

It's hard for me to communicate the thoughts that I hold

But tonight I'm gon' let you know

Let me tell the truth

Baby, let me tell the truth, yeah

The peace -- if you can call it that -- is broken by a shout. “Y/N, wait!” Confused, you spin around on your heel towards the voice. It’s Jennie; she’s sprinting to you, her brown locks bouncing and flowing in the wind with every step. Conflicted, yet again, your feet appear to be rooted in their spot. What does she want now? It seems that every time you get your hopes up, she’s always letting you down. With this in mind, you slowly turn back around and continue your walk. Eventually she’ll catch up to you, but you need the extra time to gather your now-jumbled thoughts. 

Just know that I would die for you

Baby I would die for you, yeah

It all happened in a blur. As you began crossing the street to put more distance between Jennie and yourself, the high pitched sound of tires squealing against the pavement rang out. The car came out of nowhere, barrelling straight towards you with no signs of stopping; they had run a red light. Your eyes locked with the driver’s, both of you donning an equally terrified expression, and you had no time to react. Just as the bumper was about to come into contact with your body, you were instead forcefully shoved out of the way. Another person -- your savior -- comes tumbling with you just in the nick of time, and the driver swerves around you.  

“Are you okay?!” It’s Jennie; her voice is ripe with worry, her thoughts focused solely on your wellbeing. She doesn’t even notice the cut that she received from the fall. You bring your hand up to her forehead to assess the wound.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. But you,” you say, touching her injury and eliciting a pained hiss from her in the process, “...are not.” The two of you are breathing hard as adrenaline courses through your systems; once it has died down a bit, you stand up and check each other for any more sore spots.

“Thank you, Jennie. I don’t know how to repay you for something like that.” 

“I’d do it again a million times, Y/N. I’m sorry for putting you through all of this. I came to tell you that I love you, and that I’m done running. Seeing you leave really put things into perspective for me.”

“Am I supposed to believe that, or will you change your mind again?” The words are harsh, your voice laced with the bitterness that you still hold onto. You can’t find it in yourself to cushion the blow much; you’re still hurt by what’s happened in the past, and rightfully so. Beyond that, though, you’re trying to be cautious; after hearing her confess like that, you know there’s no going back. 

“Okay, I deserve that one. But I mean what I said. You’re the best thing in my life -- the best I’ve ever had -- and I just want you to be happy. I’ve always been afraid that I can’t give you that if I’m so far away all the time.” 

“Oh, baby,” you start, cupping her cheek and running your thumb across it soothingly. She leans into your touch, and your expression softens. “All I’ve ever wanted is you. You’re everything to me, you know that? We can do this together, so long as you’re willing to try.” 

“I am.” She utters before pulling you in, sealing your new agreement with a kiss. Her lips move against yours gently, taking their time as they attempt to make up for her previous behavior. It’s soft yet urgent, a million different things passing between you without words. 

Suddenly, you pull back, and Jennie panics for a second. 

“Did you turn the burner off?”

“Oh shit!” She exclaims, a look of pure fear gracing her features. 

Just as that cold, prickly feeling of dread begins to spread throughout your body, she grins. 

“Yes, I did.” 

You roll your eyes and huff loudly at her, delivering a rough shove to her shoulder. 

“Don’t do that to me!” 

She responds by pulling you in again, kissing away your frown. “I love you, too, if you didn’t catch that earlier.” You declare, feeling her lips turn up in that beautifully iconic smile of hers. She hums at that, pulling you in closer just as the chilly wind blows again. Huh, maybe the universe had been listening all along.

#jennie kim #jennie x reader #blackpink angst #blackpink fluff #blackpink #blackpink imagine #blackpink oneshots #jennie imagine #jennie kim x fem reader #die for you #let-them-read-fics #blackpink scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios

[rune-writes]

A New Beginning

Fandom: Studio Ghibli | Mononoke Hime

Word count: 1988

Rating: G

Summary: It's been months since the Deer God's demise and the woods are thriving again. One evening, after a day's work of rebuilding a new village, Ashitaka visits San in the forest as per his promise, bringing with him a meal the villagers made for her.

Note: this is a piece I wrote for @ghiblicookbook. I got to write about Princess Mononoke with dinner as the main theme.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

The forest was quiet that evening. Nothing but the sound of the hooting owl, the rustles of leaves against the breeze, and the rhythmic thudding of Yakul’s hooves against the ground. The kodamas were watching with their smiles on their white illuminated bodies, the soft clicking of their shaking heads filling his senses. It had been several months since the men tried to take the Deer God’s head, and now the woods were thriving again.

Ashitaka was on his way to San’s home, riding on his elk as it made its way over uneven ground and upturned roots. Their path lit only by the moonlight filtered in through the gaps in the dark foliage. It had been a while since he was last there. Rebuilding a new village in the mountains hadn’t been an easy task.

However, that evening, just a little after sunset, Ashitaka’s work had finished unexpectedly early, and he wanted to see how San was doing. He was leading Yakul out of the stable by the reins when Eboshi called for him.

“Are you going to see the Wolf Girl?” Eboshi asked.

“San,” Ashitaka corrected. At Eboshi’s raised brow, he repeated himself. “Her name is San.”

Eboshi cleared her throat. “Yes, San, then. Are you going to see San?”

“Yes.”

Eboshi didn’t say anything. She only turned her head and nodded over her shoulder. Toki stepped forward from behind her, carrying a box wrapped in a modest red cloth.

“Dinner,” Toki explained. “From us. To her.” A genuine smile. “You haven’t had any, right? It’s enough for two.”

“Thank you,” Ashitaka said. He took the box from her. It was heavy.

“A peace offering,” Eboshi elaborated. Ashitaka looked at her and was surprised to see the prideful lady grimacing. “I doubt she would accept it readily, but this is a start.”

I see.

Ashitaka tightened his grip on the box, feeling it weighed down with the responsibility it carried. “I will relay your message,” he promised.

Eboshi smiled. “Thank you, Ashitaka. I’m sorry for making your leisure trip into one of an envoy.”

Ashitaka laughed at that. In all honesty, he had long since felt that he was an envoy between the Ironworks people and the Forest Gods.

The line of trees fell away and the path Ashitaka treaded with Yakul opened into a hill and rocky outcrop. Up a series of boulders stacked high against each other, his elk trotted upwards to the grassy patch near the top. An opening between the rocks led to the cave where San slept at night. It was empty. No signs of fire, flint, or stone. Not even any sign of her white wolves. Only the undisturbed bed of leaves that made up the cave floor.

Ashitaka headed out to the jutting rock overlooking the mountains, wondering if he could spot San among the darkness. But there were only the clear sky and the cool night wind greeting him as he stood by the ledge.

Instead of eating her, I raised her as my own, a voice rose from the distant reaches of his memories. My poor, ugly, beautiful daughter.

Ashitaka looked up, almost expecting to see the great white wolf lounging on the boulder’s flat surface above him, her eyes filled with reproach, asking him a question he couldn’t answer. How could you help her? But the space was empty. Moro was nowhere to be found.

Ashitaka felt the weight of the wrapped box in his hands. He hadn’t been able to answer that question before; he didn’t know if he had the answer now. But he had promised Moro he would save San, and that was what he was going to do.

“Ashitaka?”

The soft call came from behind him. Ashitaka looked over his shoulder and found San emerging from the cave’s mouth. He smiled at her. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” San replied, joining him by the ledge. “I was surprised to find Yakul outside, but here you are.” A quiet laugh. “What brings you here?”

“I promised we’d come see you whenever we can, right?” he said. “Well, we can now. And look—” Ashitaka lifted the wrapped box, “—I bring gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“The villagers made it,” he went on, making his way inside the cave. He sat down on the hard floor between the leaf bed and the cave mouth before laying down the box in front of him. Untying the knot and opening the lid, Ashitaka found a stacked food container inside, with a couple bowls, spoons, and a ladle.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. You haven’t had any, right?” He had caught sight of the fruits, berries, and some plants in San’s hand when she came to meet him out on the ledge.

“No, but—”

“Come on, then.” He patted the space next to him with a grin. From the scent wafting up from the container, Ashitaka knew their dinner was going to be delicious. If Eboshi really did mean to offer peace, she might have asked Toki to make this especially good.

He used the wrapping cloth as a mat and set the container over them. A bowl and a spoon would mean some sort of soup or congee, but the strong scent of spice coming from the top lid meant there was grilled meat. Beef? Lamb? Or maybe just chicken?

Ashitaka uncovered the top lid and indeed, what he found were skewered meat set neatly in a stacked row. It looked like they had packed in at least thirty skewers. The second container beneath it held what looked to be congee. The rich smell teased his nostrils, pulling his lips into a small smile.

He grabbed the ladle from the box and stirred the congee. There were eggs too, and he could barely smell the pork stock Toki had used. He ladled the congee into each bowl before setting them down on either side.

He then grabbed one of the skewers and took a bite. Lamb meat, it seemed—so soft and juicy as it melted in his mouth. A hint of saltiness, but the spice tasted more prominent. Ashitaka smiled, looking up to his friend still standing by the cave’s mouth. “Try them,” he said, holding the skewer up.

San stared at it, then at the dishes, and shook her head and took a step back. “I’m not touching that.”

“Wh—” Ashitaka gulped down his lamb, “—why?”

“It smells weird. And it looks weird. And did you say it was from the villagers?” San shook her head again. “I’m not eating that.”

Ashitaka sighed. “San—” he began.

“No, Ashitaka!”

“But they’re delicious.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re missing a lot.”

San scowled. She made her point by plopping herself down on the ground and took a large bite off whatever edible root she had brought back from her foraging.

Ashitaka pursed his lips. This was not going how he had wanted it to. Yes, he knew San wouldn’t receive it gladly, but he’d thought if he had omitted Eboshi’s name, she would at least sit down and try some of these. But she didn’t even give him the chance to explain, and Ashitaka saw no way he could let her know about the peace offering.

He looked at the lamb skewer in his hand then glanced up at San, still stubbornly chewing her root, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighed, letting his hand drop to his lap.

“I was going to say that Eboshi wishes to offer peace,” he began. He noticed a stiffening in her shoulders, the way her eyes flitted to him for a fraction of a second and the pause in her bite. He smiled a soft self-deprecating smile. “She knew you wouldn’t accept it readily.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because it’s a start.” Toward peace, and a new beginning. San leveled her gaze at him for a few more moments before pointedly looking away.

Ashitaka waited for one heartbeat, then another, and said, “You really won’t try some? It’s really good.” He took another bite off the lamb. It really was delicious. Toki and the women had probably gone above and beyond to make this.

San plopped a purple berry into her mouth with a huff.

Ashitaka stared at her, before quietly saying, “Moro asked me to look after you.”

That did it, as he knew it would. The mention of Moro’s name was like a hammer breaking through her strong façade. The flash in her eyes as she glared at him—at least she kept her gaze locked with his. And then he saw it, the slight crumbling of her resolve, as she muttered, “That’s not fair.” With a shuddering breath, San drew a long sigh, and went over to sit next to him.

Ashitaka couldn’t help the beam on his face. He grabbed her bowl and held it out to her. “Here, try this.”

“What is this?” she asked, scrunching her face. She took a sniff, then immediately pulled back with a frown and a shake of her head. Ashitaka laughed. If that were enough to repulse her, he wondered how she would react to the lamb’s strong flavor and scent.

“It’s called congee, and it really warms you up.”

She met his gaze again, and he nodded at her encouragingly. He showed her how to use the spoon, and she did as she was told, albeit clumsily. She brought the gruel to her mouth, barely touching the spoon to her lips. A moment’s pause, her tongue lapping at her lips, before she gulped the congee down.

Ashitaka waited with bated breath.

“It’s…good.” Her voice soft, she scooped another spoonful of the dish and ate it without question. Her face broke into a small smile. “It’s really good. What is this—egg?” She ate the entire egg in one go.

“Try this next.” He grabbed one skewer from the container and handed it to her.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Lamb skewers.”

“Lamb?” Her eyes narrowed at it. “It’s burned.”

“It’s grilled, San,” Ashitaka replied with a laugh. “We cook our meat before eating it.”

She gave a noncommittal grunt, but she put her bowl down and grabbed the skewer from him. She eyed it skeptically, took a sniff, and scrunched her nose. “It smells even weirder.” Ashitaka chuckled at that.

San took an experimental bite off the top cube, her jaws moving slowly. She puckered her face, trying get the meat down her throat.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asked, watching her closely.

San swiped her tongue against her mouth before eyeing the lamb again and took another bite. She seemed to have an easier time digesting it now, the grimace on her face transforming into an uncertain frown. “It’s all right, I guess. It tastes…good, but the meat’s not juicy.”

The comment left him dumbstruck. He hadn’t expected it at all. When it finally registered in his mind, bone-shaking laughter overcame him, and San had to pause eating and stare at him. Of course, if he thought about it, the meat wouldn’t be juicy enough for someone who had never eaten anything cooked.

“This doesn’t mean I accept her apology, okay?” she said with a frown. “I’m only eating the food youbrought me. I trust you. I don’t trust her.”

“I know, I know,” Ashitaka said, brushing the tears away from his eyes. “She knows that too.”

“Good then.” A short, clipped answer. San went back to her lamb and took her third bite without any difficulty.

It was hard to keep himself from smiling because this was the girl who had been so adamant on hating humans and the human life, and yet now he was watching her eat human foods with such joy on her face.

“Want me to teach you how to make them? It’s not hard.”

San glanced at him, and there was a small smile on her face as she said, “I’ll think about it.”

~ END ~

#studio ghibli #mononoke hime #princess mononoke #fanfiction #ghibli fanfic #ghibli fanzine #zine piece #whisper of the hearth

[swanslieutenant]

into the depths - part 1/2

Summary: Running out of options to save Henry, Emma and Hook venture to Mermaid Lagoon, to the dangerous and treacherous mermaids for a desperate attempt at their help. There is no assurance it will work, but to save her son, Emma is willing to do whatever it takes.

Rating T.

Written as a part of the CS Neverland New Year Event @neverlandnewyear. This is Part One of two, and Part Two will be up shortly. Hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3 

PART ONE 

The night at the camp after the Echo Caves is quiet and subdued, everyone lost in their own thoughts. The initial discussion of retrieving Pan’s shadow had quickly faltered, the group deciding to wait for Regina to return before attempting that mission. The shadow is an entity all on its own, separate from Pan, and while Hook had seemed confident Emma was capable of securing it without Regina’s aid, her parents had objected to the danger and so, here they are, waiting around.

Yet again.

Emma tries not to be angry at this situation, knowing logically it is fine to wait for Regina to return, that it may be safer in the longer run. But it’s been several hours since, and she still hasn’t returned from wherever she went off to earlier. And so, the remainder of their mix-mash of a group sit around the fire, the silence amongst them anything but comfortable.

Emma almost wishes for Regina’s presence, not only so they can go after the shadow but for at least some snarky remark to break this tension. The Echo Caves are living up to their reputation, the aftershocks of its secrets leaving everyone in a strained silence that seems to fester and persist the longer it lasts.

Neal is sat on a log in the centre of the camp, munching on a pitiful dinner of leftover hardtack from the Jolly Roger and a handful of berries Hook has deemed safe, while Hook himself is sharpening his sword at the other end of the camp. Neither has so much as looked at the other since they returned and took their seats in their respective corners.

There is some history between them, something Emma doesn’t understand. She knows Neal spent time with Hook in Neverland previously – the cutlass leaning against her bedroll a reminder of it – but whatever occurred in that time is still a mystery. Though, it clearly didn’t end well, given the glares Neal sends Hook every so often, while Hook’s brow is furrowed in a twisted, painful expression unrelated to his work on the sword.

In the centre of the camp, David pokes miserably at the dying fire, casting mournful glances over to his wife every so often, who is already lying down on her bedroll, her back to the rest of the group. Mary Margaret hasn’t said a word since they left the Echo Caves – other than to object to finding the shadow without Regina – and it’s not looking like she will do so anytime soon.

Emma herself is at a loss of what to do now. She’s resorted to pacing the outskirts of the camp, her mind racing as she tries to think up their next steps to save Henry. But its hard to do so when her mind keeps returning to the Echo Caves and the secrets it has revealed. Even with Hook’s warnings about his crew, Emma wasn’t prepared. Not at all.

She glances over to Mary Margaret, silent on her bedroll. It was hard for Emma to hear that  David was poisoned and cursed to remain on Neverland too, but she can only imagine how that blow has landed with Mary Margaret. Emma feels like she should reach out to her, try to comfort her. But she can’t think of the words. Mary Margaret’s own secret from the Echo Caves is fresh in Emma’s mind, leaving her stunned and lost.

She’s all grown up.

We missed it, David.

I want to have another baby.  

Each secret was a whiplash, even her own regarding Neal and the wish that he was still dead, and Emma is beginning to understand what Pan’s game was. Make them reveal their darkest secrets to tear them apart, to distract them from the real reason they are here.

She hates to admit it, but it’s working. David and Mary Margaret’s secrets had hurt her perhaps the most, a form of abandonment all over again – David’s physically, Mary Margaret’s emotionally.

Emma finds herself glancing over to Hook, who is still silently examining his sword. His secret on the other hand …

Until I met you.

She would be lying if she said that it hadn’t made her heart skip a beat. The sincerity, the honesty, the truth of it. It knocked all the wind from her lungs. She’d wanted to reach out to him, to say something, anything, but before she could gather her wits about her, other secrets had been spilled, sending her spiralling all over again.

Emma straightens her back and forces all those thoughts away. Hook, Mary Margaret, David, Neal – they and all their secrets and their potential implications can wait. Henry is the only one that matters here.

“We need to discuss our next steps,” Emma says, marching to the centre of the camp, hands on her hips as she surveys the others. “We can’t just sit here and wait for Regina forever.”

“Agreed,” David says, and he drops the long stick he was using as a fire poker, sending sparks from the dying fire floating through the air. “Who knows when she’ll be back.”

Neal sets down his half-finished meal, and frowns. “Is Tink around here still?” he asks. “She could –”

“She won’t help us,” Emma replies flatly, a flash of irritation at the fairy who had so quickly fled at the first sight of danger. “We already asked her. She won’t help us get into Pan’s camp until we have a plan to get away from Neverland after saving Henry. And for that, we need to wait for Regina to get the shadow.”

The camp falls silent, then Neal asks, “Has Pan ever said what he wants with Henry? Like, what he brought him for?”

“No,” Emma admits. “He’s just been playing games with us. But maybe … maybe if we could figure that out, we could at least stop him before he hurts Henry anymore than he already has.”

Hook sets down his sword and the sharpening stone then, stroking absently at his face, brow furrowed in thought. “We could ask the mermaids.”

Emma turns to face him, taken aback by the suggestion. “The – mermaids?”

He nods, thoughtfully. “Aye. They may –”

“You want to ask the mermaids who attacked your ship for help?” David demands, interrupting with incredulity. “They nearly killed all of us, and Emma almost drowned because of them! There is no way they would help us!”  

“Perhaps not,” Hook admits, his tone calm in the face of David’s outburst. “But they may be our only option. The mermaids can travel this island in a way no one else can – through the water, and even Pan’s camp must be near a water source. Perhaps they will know why he’s brought Henry here.”

Emma’s heart is starting to beat faster, a chance of hope accelerating it. Neal is glaring at Hook with narrowed eyes, though he has leaned forward to hear better, and even Mary Margaret rolls over now, propped up on her elbow to listen.

“Did you say the mermaids attacked the Jolly Roger?” Neal asks, his eyes crinkling with a frown.

“Yes, and tried to sink it with a storm,” David adds pointedly, glaring at Hook.

“Aye, they did,” Hook says, shrugging. “But, as Emma so eloquently discovered, the storm was worsened by our squabbles. If we can keep our wits about us this time, a cursed storm will not be a problem.”  

Emma’s eyebrows raise. Hook hardly ever uses her first name, reserving her addresses to ‘Swan’ or the epithet ‘love.’ ‘Emma’ sounds different coming from his mouth, and then couple that with a genuine compliment with no flirtatious undertone … well, Hook is full of surprises tonight.

“I don’t think they’ll help us,” Neal says, his sour tone bringing Emma back to reality. He crosses his arms, leaning back on his heels as he frowns at Hook. “They were with Pan last time I was here.”

“Allegiances change,” Hook replies, meeting Neal’s eyes in a measured, even gaze, and something unspoken passes between them then. Neal’s expression contorts, from a quick flash of anger and betrayal and confusion. He scowls at Hook, his cheeks reddening slightly in a sign Emma remembers as anger, and looks away, kicking at the loose twigs at his feet.

David and Emma exchange a glance while Mary Margaret, oblivious, sits up from her bedroll, rising from her feet to join them around the dying fire.

“I knew a mermaid once,” she says, growing excitement in her tone. “She saved me from drowning, and then even helped save me from Regina. If these mermaids are anything like her, we can definitely count on them to help us.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” Hook interjects rapidly. “Unfortunately, these mermaids may not be as helpful as any you met previously, milady. Neverland is a cruel place. The mermaids who live here … they’ve had to adapt to survive.”  

He doesn’t elaborate, and Emma can only imagine what they’ve had to go through. She’s seen firsthand the way the Lost Boys and Tinkerbell have had to adapt to this cursed island, even Neal with his cave and its meagre survival tools.  

David, clearly recalling the mermaids influence on their arrival here in Neverland, shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, one hand lingering at the sword at his hip, as if challenging Hook to disagree. “The mermaids here are monsters, you said it yourself.”

“And they may betray us to Pan,” Neal adds, dismissing the conversation as he settles back on the log, ready to resume his meal.

Emma’s frustration bubbles over, her hands curl into fists at her side, arms stiff at the conscious effort to resist the urge to start punching things. Why are they all content to sit around, waiting for Regina to return, when this idea could help them save her son from a maniac?

“Pan already knows everything about us! He can appear wherever he likes on this island, do whatever he wants! If these mermaids could help us save Henry, who cares if they tell Pan? He’ll probably already know anyways! If this could help us, we have to try!”

David and Neal remain silent as they stare back at her, disagreement plain on their faces, though at least Neal has stopped eating again. Over the fire’s dying embers, Emma catches Hook’s eye. His expression is carefully neutral, but there’s a determined edge to his eye, and he nods imperceptibly at her.  

He clears his throat, making David and Neal glare at him. That doesn’t deter him, and he says, “They may be our best chance at trying to find out more information to save Henry.”

Neal scowls at Hook, and David throws his hands up in the air in dismay. Mary Margaret, however, seems intrigued.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” she says, breaking the unspoken tie. “Let’s go find the mermaids.”

David and Neal are not happy, dragging their feet, but Emma and Hook do not waste any time. They gather up several water canteens, Hook warning it may be quite the walk to reach the mermaids from their camp, while Mary Margaret leads the charge of gathering her bow and arrow and extra weapons for Neal.

Finally, they are ready to set off. The bright, full moon guides their path, filtering down through the jungle canopy in a scattered pattern, shadowed by the thick foliage above. Hook leads them, the rest following in a single file line through the narrow path that has been previously forged through the thick jungle.

Emma feels lighter than she has in a few days, the prospect of a task, of a goal, lifting her spirits. Though she is confident this is a good idea (better at least than sitting around while her son is suffering), the further they walk into the jungle, towards these potentially angry and lethal mermaids, questions of doubt trickle into her mind.

What if the mermaids don’t help them? They’ll have wasted all this time hiking to their lake or wherever Hook is leading them, when perhaps Regina may have returned in the meantime. What if this is just a waste of time, a useless delay, and it ends up with Henry suffering for longer?

Hook is several paces ahead of her, slashing at some fallen vines with his hook, and she increases her speed, scrambling over the loose roots in order to keep up with his hurried strides.

“Do you really think the mermaids will help us?” she asks, glancing back to the others. They are far enough behind that no one appears to have heard her question; if David or Neal got a sense that Emma was questioning this mission too, she’s sure they would be just as happy to turn around this moment.

Hook sighs, brushing his hair out of his face, and regards her with a somewhat sad smile. “I hope so, Swan. They are tricky and slippery creatures, who will parlay with us, if only for their own amusement. They have no regard for me, but neither do they have any love for Pan. He has not been kind to them.” Hook pauses, holding up a large leaf so Emma can pass underneath it, before adding, “To hurt him, they may help us.”

Emma can only hope he’s right.

They continue in silence, Hook guiding them through a small clearing to another long, winding pathway. This one is down a slope, steep and precarious, and at one point, though Emma is trying her best to keep an eye on her path, the dark night of Neverland bests her.

She loses her footing, skidding down several feet of loose rocks and damp leaves. Emma cries out in surprise, her stomach swooping with the sudden drop of gravity, and she braces herself for the fall, which is looking to be down several dozen feet of rocks and tree roots onto the rocky ground below.

But Hook, as if on instinct, reaches out to her as she stumbles past him, grabbing her arm with his hand and his hook catching a belt loop in her jeans. He tugs her back up to standing, jerking her upright fast enough to make her stomach squeeze with nausea once more, and swivelling her close to him.  

“Are you alright, Swan?”

His breath tickles her face, and Emma realizes then, just how close she is to him, practically in his arms. Even in the dark jungle, his features are in clear relief, and the last time she was this close to him … well, she kissed him.

“I’m fine,” she says, a bit breathlessly, which she absolutely attributes to the adrenaline rush, not Hook’s hand on her skin, the cold metal of the hook at the low of her back, or the sight of his face so close to hers once again. She steps away from him to more sturdy ground a few feet down the slope, brushing her hair back and out of her face, wishing again for the hundredth time she’d brought a hair tie with her to Neverland. “Thanks, um, for catching me.”

Hook nods and turns, continuing carefully down the slope. Emma follows him, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal as they head to the bottom of the slope. When they reach the bottom, pausing to wait for the others to come down carefully too, Emma turns to Hook.

“Hook,” she starts, thinking wisely of her next words. She’s been trying to think of how to say this for several days now, but with this latest suggestion on how to help save Henry and now just saving her from a potential broken leg or arm, it reminds her that … well, he’s here. He doesn’t have to be. But he is, and she’s not sure she’s able to fully communicate how much that means. “I wanted to say thanks for helping us find Henry. I don’t – I don’t think I’ve really said that yet. You didn’t have to help us to get here, and then help us since and I … I appreciate it.”

“Of course, love,” he says, his voice soft. He glances up the slope to the other three, slowly making their way down, and a dark shadow passes briefly over his expression. “There have been far too many boys lost to this island; if I can be of any help to save one more, it is my duty.”

Mary Margaret, David, and Neal reach the bottom of the slope then, and after checking in with Emma to make sure she is okay, the group continues their trek, through the dark jungle of sprawling roots, broken branches, and heavy, dew-soaked leaves. Emma is more careful this time, watching each step closely, but even still she slips a few times here or there.

This walk seems to be taking forever, Emma’s emotions fraught with both nervousness of approaching a group of mermaids who probably work for Pan and may not even help them, but also the general sense of anxiety and stress she’s felt since Henry was first taken. Her good mood has dissipated as quickly as it came, leaving her hollow with anxiety.

Finally, after they’ve been walking for at least an hour, Hook pushes through a dense crowd of bushes, leading them out onto a dark, sandy beach.

Ahead of them is an enormous lake, far larger than what Emma was imagining which, in all honesty, was essentially the pond from the Disney movie.

His voice grim, Hook announces, “Mermaid Lagoon.”

The term ‘lagoon’ is a misnomer, as this is a true lake, with black water rippling gently in the light breeze, water stretching far out into the dark horizon. Emma can only just see to the other side of the lake, where it meets the slope of a stony mountain, while the water disappears into the dark horizon to the west.

The water is mostly smooth and calm, but a dark cluster of rocks breaks the surface several hundred feet away, creating a small current and white tipped waves near its shores. The rocks are like a castle floating in the middle of the lake, with some rocks towering tall like towers and casting dark shadows out over the water.

“How are we going to find them in this huge lake?” Emma asks, disappointment already oozing into her thoughts. She wasn’t expecting this.

Hook looks to the sky, where the bright full moon shines faintly through a wisp of clouds, and gestures to the rocks with his hooked arm. “That’s where they’ll be. There are a few different clans in these waters, but they always convene on the full moon.”

It sometimes still surprises her how much he knows about this island, even though they’ve been here for days at this point and Emma realizes that he’s literally Captain Hook and this is Neverland. It’s a strange concept, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that he did spend two hundred years here, trapped by as much his thoughts of revenge as this cursed place itself.

Of course he’d know a lot about the mermaids and their habits.

“Okay, so how do we get over there?” Mary Margaret asks, as she, David and Neal join them at the tree line. She rubs at her face in exhaustion, her cheeks are hollow in the moonlight with dark shadows under her eyes. “Swim?”

“There will be a boat around here somewhere,” Hook replies, squinting around the dark beach. “This place is one of the only spots on the island that is protected against magic, even from Pan’s powers. He’d need some form of transportation to get over there.”

They spread out to search the dark beach. Emma’s feet sink into the soft sand as she keeps close to the gently lapping shoreline. Even with the full moon ahead, its dark here and after several minutes of walking, she doesn’t so much find a boat, as run directly into it.

Rubbing at her shin, Emma squints at the boat at her feet. It’s the size of the small rowboats Emma saw in Tallahassee several years ago, the ones with fathers and their kids eagerly packing their supplies for the day of fishing on the local waterways. This boat is made entirely of rough driftwood, sanded down to be smooth, with two benches facing each other constructed in the centre of it.

“Over here!” Emma calls, waving at the others, now scattered over the beach. “I found it!”

It takes several minutes for everyone to re-group near her, and Hook is the last to join them. He takes in the small boat and grins at her with delight.

“Excellent eyes, Swan. This will be perfect.”

Neal nudges the boat with his foot, sloshing the dark water, leaving the sand where it touches stained an inky black, dark even against the night. “You’re going to go across the lake in this puny thing?”

“Aye. Though I expect it only capable of holding one or two of us.”

David steps forward immediately, rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll go.”

“You’ve done enough adventuring for one trip,” Mary Margaret says flatly and David deflates under her gaze, his hand unconsciously moving to hover over the now-healed arrow wound at his side. “Besides,” she continues, “the last time you got near a mermaid, you threatened to cut her throat.”

David steps back, his cheeks reddening in shame. Mary Margaret herself makes no move to volunteer, and Neal is standing off to the side, looking anywhere but at the rest of them. Its no matter – Emma has already made her decision, glancing to Hook. He meets her gaze evenly, determined and set.

“Hook and I will go.”

David exchanges a look with Mary Margaret, and gestures at the small boat, bobbing gently in the water. “No offense, Hook, but how will you row the boat?”  

Hook’s eyes flash. “I suspect we won’t need any oars,” he says simply, and he bends down, running his hand along the edge of the boat. “This is enchanted wood. Similar to the same wood in the Jolly Roger.”  

“Hook knows the mermaids better than any of us,” Emma adds, trying very hard not to glare at David for that comment. “He has to be one of the two to go. And,” she adds, before they can throw in any of their protective parent disagreements, “if anyone is going to get information that will help save Henry, it’s going to be me.”

She lifts her chin, hands on her hips, challenging anyone to disagree with her. Though her parents do not look pleased and Neal appears downright sour, no one says anything else in defiance. Mary Margaret and David set about filling several canteens of water from the lake. As they load them into the small boat, Hook examines it, inspecting for any signs of leaks or holes.

Emma steps away from the group slightly, fastening and tightening the cutlass straps that keep the sword tight and secure against her back, taking a moment to prepare herself for whatever she and Hook are about to face.

Neal wanders over to her, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks.” 

“Not just with the mermaids,” he continues, tilting his head in the direction of the small boat, where Hook is bent over it, his necklace brushing the edge of the boat.

Emma tries not to sigh too heavily at the implication Hook is part of the danger in this mission. She knows they have some dark history, but Neal wasn’t there with them on the Jolly Roger when they first arrived in Neverland, when these very same mermaids had attacked them, when Hook had helped save Emma from drowning in the churning seas.

“Listen, Neal –”

“He betrayed a lot of people when he was here last,” Neal persists, stubbornly. “Those mermaids are no different. You said they attacked the Jolly Roger when you first got here – why do you think they would do that?”

Her hand hesitates over the clasp. That’s a question she hasn’t really considered before …

Neal notices her hesitation, and he nods pointedly. “Like I said,” he continues, his voice low. “Be careful.”

Emma finishes tightening the sword and tries not to grimace when she smiles reassuringly back at Neal. “We’ll be fine.”

She walks back to the small boat before Neal can say anything else, joining Hook at its side.

“Any holes?”

“No, it’s ship shape,” he replies, straightening up. “Ready, Swan?”

Emma nods, and suddenly reminded of the last time they did something like this. Standing beside Hook, about to embark on an adventure, just the two of them – its like they are standing at the base of the beanstalk again, back in the Enchanted Forest. Then, Hook had had his own agenda, had been consumed in revenge and his own goals, and Emma didn’t trust him for a moment.

It’s surprising how different it feels now, regardless of Neal’s implications.

Now, Hook is the only person she would want to go with on this trip across Mermaid Lagoon, to ask a group of mythical creatures for their help in rescuing her son from a demented kidnapper. There’s no ulterior motive this time – Hook is here, in Neverland, the home of one of his sworn enemies, volunteering to travel across a black lake to face mermaids to help save her son. Who, if Neal’s information is accurate, he may have screwed over before.

There’s no benefit to Hook to go on this trip, and yet, here he is, standing opposite her, determined and ready to save her son. 

Emma sets her jaw resolutely. “Let’s do this.”

Hook clambers into the boat first, hand out to help Emma in. Normally she would ignore it out of principle, but the unsteadiness of the water underneath the small boat has her grasping out for it. She expects some snarky comment or perhaps a refusal to let go of her hand, but to his credit, he simply helps her into the boat, his palm rough against hers, and releases her hand once she has her own footing.  

As Hook predicted, the boat carries no oars or other ways to steer or propel them forwards. Instead, as Emma and Hook they settle into their seats, the boat gently pushes off from the sandy shore, gliding out into the dark lake.

“If we’re not back in a few hours, keep going, keep looking for Henry!” Emma calls. “Find Regina and get that shadow!”

The three figures of David, Mary Margaret, and Neal soon fade into small black dots against a dark shoreline, and then disappear altogether.

The tower of rocks in the centre of the lake looms ahead of them, and as they drift closer towards it, a cool breeze kicks up, sending goosebumps down Emma’s bare arms. Most of the time she is overheating in Neverland, with its oppressive jungle heat at all times of the day, hence her abandonment of her black peacoat the moment they arrived, but here out on the water, it’s the opposite. The dark water splashing over the edge is icy, chilling her to the bone. Emma wishes she had brought her jacket, but that is still folded up as her pillow back at camp, so she rubs at her arms, trying to bring some warmth back into them.

Hook, of course, notices.

“Are you cold, Swan?”

“I’m fine.”

He rolls his eyes at her and shrugs out of his large jacket. He holds it out to Emma, but she doesn’t take it, raising her eyebrow in a challenge. He lets out a huff of a laugh, laying it out over her knees instead.

“No sense getting a chill before we’ve even arrived. You’ll need all your strength and wits about you, love.”

The jacket is heavy and warm draped across her knees, and Emma lifts it up, slipping her arms through the sleeves, sheltering more of her body. “Thanks,” she says, begrudgingly.

“You’re most welcome.”  

They lapse into a silence as they cruise across the lake, the coldness of the air brushing against Emma’s face and making her shiver.

“So … mermaids, huh?” she starts, curious but at the same time hoping conversation will distract her from the cold biting at her skin. “I didn’t even know they existed outside of stories until we arrived here.”

He tilts his head at her, eyes narrowed. “Sounds like most of my world is simply stories in yours.”

She nods, thinking of the numerous movies and books on Snow White and Neverland and every other magical character she’s come across so far. “You’ve got no idea. But they’re twisted. I mean, the stories are different than …” She trails off, and waves her hand vaguely in his direction, unsure exactly how to put it.

He nods seriously but his eyes have a twinkle of humour. “Like your moustache and perm comment.”

Emma laughs, imagining the animated Captain Hook, with his exaggerated features and brilliant red coat, versus the man in front of her – almost unfairly handsome, who dresses entirely in black leather, with a loose cotton shirt lacking any effort at buttons. Lethal where the cartoon is a buffoon. Perhaps the only story in her world that had gotten a fact right was the original book, which described his dark hair and blue eyes, as blue as forget-me-not flowers.

Its far too easy for Emma to stare at those blue eyes, to be lost in them, and she shakes herself, continuing, rather hurriedly, “I mean, mermaids, for example. The most famous mermaid in my world isn’t a monster; she’s a curious adventurer and the hero of the story.”

Hook’s humour fades, and he frowns. “Aye, love. In that sense, our worlds are similar. Most mermaids are not monsters. But like I said, Neverland is not a kind home. To live, to thrive here … the softest among them are long gone and the remainder are dangerous.

Neal’s warning from the shore about Hook and the mermaids lingers in her mind, a trail of doubt creeping in.

“Hook, when we first got here, they attacked the Jolly Roger. Why did they do that?”

Hook fiddles with the end of his hook. “It was most likely on Pan’s orders. He has some arrangement with them. I’ve never been able to figure out what he has over them, but he probably had them out on patrol in case you showed up. Though,” he muses, “we had our fair share of disagreements when I was here, before. They like to hold grudges, these mermaids. It may as well of been my doing as Pan’s.”

Her heart sinks; perhaps there had been something to Neal’s warning after all. “What did you do?”

“Nothing too nefarious,” he says, with a wry grin that rapidly fades again into a dark, almost morose expression. “But you live in one place for too long, you tend to gather enemies, especially ones who like to hoard treasure and work for your enemy.”

They lapse into another silence then, and don’t speak again until the boat begins to slow. Emma twists her body as the boat slows its approach, to a rocky beach similar to the one at the other end of the lake, with dark sand and a gentle lapping of the waves against the shore.

This time, however, instead of a jungle framing the beach, it is all rocks, some jagged and sharp like knives, others low and flattened by the water’s erosion, and goosebumps rise on Emma’s skin as Hook jumps out of the boat, tugging it the last few feet onto shore.

“This place is creepy,” she comments, rubbing at her arms as she rises to her feet now, leaving Hook’s warm jacket behind. There is a faint breeze now, and though it is only a feeble wind, it is icy and cuts at her bare arms.

“Aye,” he replies darkly, straightening and glaring at the rocks around them. “This is Marooners’ Rock.”

“Marooners’ Rock?”

Hook is gazing out to the distance, and Emma follows his eyeline. A flat outcropping of rock hangs out over the water, a sheer cliff over the swirling waters below.

“So named after all those who left their crew here to die.”

Hook looks away from the outcropping, offering no more explanation, and continues, “Come, Swan. They’ll be on the other side, facing out into the lake.”

He holds his hand out to her, and Emma takes it, climbing out of the boat onto the soft, black sand. She glances to the outcropping, and this time when she shivers, it has nothing to do with the cold.

The small boat has dropped them off at the bottom of a set of cliffs, towering about thirty feet above them, with a carved staircase leading up from the beach into the rocks above. Though Hook called this a ‘rock’, its truly a little island all into itself, and Emma feels daunted by the scale of it all.

They leave Hook’s heavy jacket in the boat, along with the water canteens and head off, up the stone staircase. At the top of the staircase is a rocky plateau, with a stunning view of the jungle of Neverland all around them. Emma glances behind her, squinting back at the beach for any sign of the others, but the shore is too far away now. Only the thick black jungle stares back at her, oppressive and silent.

For whatever reason, it spooks her and makes her angry at the same time. Here they are, stranded in an unknown, hostile world, her son lost and in danger. It makes her blood boil with anger, anger at the sheer fact that this is even happening in the first place, and Emma turns back to Hook, who is watching her with an unreadable expression.

“What?” Emma asks, more defensively than she perhaps means it to be.

“You need another weapon, Swan.”

Automatically, Emma refuses. “I have the cutlass,” she says, shifting to show Hook the blade strapped to her back.

His eyes trace her movement, the turn of her body, and his voice is low when he says, “Never hurts to have a back up, Swan. Especially against these creatures.”

Strapped to his belt, slung low around his hips, hangs several weapons – in addition to his own sword, there are two short daggers in brown leather wrappings and a short black scabbard. He unfastens the black scabbard, and holds it out to Emma, an ivory handle gleaming at her.

“Here. Take it.”

Something lingers in his words, and Emma doesn’t argue again. She takes it from him and slides the dagger out of its scabbard, revealing a lethally sharp silver blade that gleams in the moonlight. She tucks it into the side of her boot, so that only the emerald tipped pommel shows and nods at him.

“Thanks. Where to from here?”

He gestures to the other side of the plateau. “They will be over there.”

She gestures for him to continue, and then follows him down another roughly carved stone staircase, into the darkness of the rocks below, to whatever and whoever await them.

#captain swan #cs fic #cs ff #neverland au #neverland new year event #csnlny #hope you enjoy!! #i have had this title for a CS fic in my drafts forever and finally found a fic for it to be used on #part two will be up soon promise

[fiddlepickdouglas]

To The Wick - Bobby’s Birthday

Disclaimer: I’m not usually a fic writer, I tend to stick to original stuff, but I just felt like I had to write this for Bobby today. I definitely wrote this in one go and did no proofreading, so I’m very sorry for that.

Summary: 2.3k wd. Bobby celebrates with Rose and Ray while still dealing with survivors guilt. Lots of fire imagery and comparisons.

WARNINGS: deals with death, symptoms similar to anxiety or PTSD, funeral mentions, survivor’s guilt

Staring at the flame, he fought every impulse to snuff it out with his fingers. For a moment, he contemplated on its gentle flickering, not unlike himself at this time. Every moment of its existence a fight against very strong currents, against all but one element surrounding it. All it knew was heat and the need to grow outward, but not being able to without the permission of exterior forces.

The words to the Beatles’ birthday song drummed on his ears, but his mind was in the back of the cavern where the music could only echo at a distance. Shaking his head and pulling his mind out of the depths of the cave, Bobby let a small smile loose for Rose and Ray and blew out the candle on the cupcake before him.

His friends cheered and they all bit into their own homemade cupcakes. Rose had been perfecting her recipe, and so far these were the best.

“You’re going to open a bakery,” Bobby told her through a mouthful. “And I’m going to be your most faithful customer.”

“But I get to do all the taste-testing, right amor?” Ray teased, earning a hand messing up his hair from Rose.

“Mi abuela didn’t pass this down and I didn’t tweak it so you could eat it for free all the time,” she said in a sassy tone, kissing his cheek.

Ray raised his eyebrows. “Noted,” he replied with a smirk.

Bobby finished his cupcake, entertained by the two lovebirds.

“So,” Rose started saying. “Now it’s time to open gifts!” She leaned away from her seat and grabbed an object from the counter a few feet away, then handed it to Bobby.

Tearing apart the purple wrapping and blue ribbon, he looked down at the small stack of CDs. Meditation Sunrise, The 7th Chakra, and Celtic Wind sat in his hands like rectangular dumbbells, each weighing heavier on his heart than he cared to admit. Suddenly, Ray was draping something over his head, and as he looked down he found himself wearing a necklace of prayer beads.

“You guys!” he chuckled, trying to sound genuine. It was his birthday, he was supposed to enjoy all of this. The gifts were actually great, too. “Thanks, this is awesome. You’ll both have to join me in a session, you know.”

“We were thinking we could do it with you today, if you wanted to,” Rose told him.

Bobby sat back in surprise.

“O-okay,” he stammered. He caught the look in her eyes that was hoping this wasn’t too much, to which he gave her a small smile of assurance. It was impossible to blame them for anything he felt today, especially when she and Ray were putting in so much effort to make it full of the joy and happiness it was meant for. It didn’t mean he hadn’t subconsciously stuck his hand in his pocket to where he kept a lighter. Just to feel that it was there, of course.

“Is it okay if we do it later tonight?” he asked. “I just have a quick meeting with my producer and a couple other things afterward to do. And I can pick up some incense while I’m out.”

“Great plan!” Ray exclaimed. He didn’t elaborate, but Bobby could guess that all the eye contact with Rose meant something he needed no part in. He got up from the table and grabbed another cupcake for the road.

“Say we meet back at, like, eight or nine?” he asked, grabbing his leather jacket and keys.

Rose looked up from being halfway embraced with Ray, barely paying attention. “Sounds perfect!”

********

“So, after talking with Jedd we decided we wanna cut out the second repeat of the chorus in Long Weekend. It makes it easier to put into radio time.”

Bobby stared at Callum, his producer, in disbelief.

“But we can just do a radio edit, then, why cut it off the album track?”

Callum blinked condescendingly.

“You think you’re just going to get radio edits out like that before you have an album out, kid?”

“Have you listened to it?” Bobby challenged. “That album is gonna shoot through the charts and I know you know that.”

“Tch,” Callum acted like he’d been shot by a Nerf gun. “That’s a bold statement from a guy who didn’t write these songs.”

A fireball seemed to form inside his chest, and Bobby wished he could open his mouth and shoot it toward the man. He clenched his teeth.

“You signed the deal, you recorded these songs, and you are getting this opportunity from us. We - need I say this - are professionals. Trust me, I’ve dealt with music written by dead people before. You’ll thank me in a few years.”

He was trembling to keep the fireball from burning down the entire room, and clenched his fists. Focusing on a stupid paisley design on the carpet, he avoided eye contact with Callum. There was no way he was letting Luke’s songs go any different than what they had played together for so many years. He had read the contract well enough, hadn’t he? It was hard enough not crediting the rest of them, but it was honor Luke with letting his music connect to people or honor Luke by letting him keep his songs to the few who heard them from the source. Not to mention Alex and Reggie being equal parts in that equation.

“Fine,” he forced out. “Make the cut. See how it does. I’ll bet you that when I make a remaster in twenty years with greater freedoms because I’m a respected artist, fans will ask why you cut it to begin with. I’ve got better people to see than you right now.”

He only saw Callum shaking his head out of the corner of his eye as he pushed through the door of the studio, flipping the bird behind him. It would’ve been nice to simply say over my dead body, but he was already bulldozing over his three best friends and it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that he could walk along the street, get into his car, and drive off in a huff. Not fair that he could go to the abandoned grocery store parking lot and yell until his lungs were sore. It was absolutely inadequate that he remained on this earth, soul inside his body, light in his eyes, breath and blood and bones and all. He screamed in that parking lot until he was dizzy.

Bobby laid in his seat, exhausted, until twilight approached, and then started the engine again. The route was so well-known now that he knew exactly when the lights turned so he never had to make a stop. He came to the right stop and parked on the shoulder, looking wistfully out the window.

So far, he hadn’t managed to set foot on the grounds again after the funerals had passed. Still, he came and made sure his line of sight at the closest angle to get a proper look at them. They were all in a row, even though only two stood vertically. Reggie’s parents had cremated him and only gotten a stone plaque that acted as a placeholder while they kept his urn with them at home. It was nice of them to at least contribute to keep the three together.

Today still wasn’t the day he was going to venture closer to them. Bobby wasn’t going to handle it well after the conversation he’d just left. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket and flicked it off and on. It hadn’t really been a habit he had before, but there was something weirdly comforting about it. For something that couldn’t think, it really understood him. He didn’t want to use it on anything, he just wanted to watch it exist before disappearing. The fire was them. But he could control it.

Taking in a deep breath, he went to get some incense.

********

Mats were spread in the backyard with tiki torches and a camping lantern in the center, more paper lanterns hanging from the tree above. Bobby had gotten a nice incense burner a few weeks back and was excited to put it on display. Ray was in his swim shorts, already seated with his legs crossed and repeatedly going “oommmm” and breaking it with giggles when Rose swatted at him playfully.

“We’re not doing that kind, tontoroso,” she teased.

“Pero me quiero - ah!” Ray cried as she accidentally thumped him with the boombox she’d been carrying out.

“Oh, lo siento mi amor, me desculpes!” she cried, setting it down to address the minor bump now forming on his head.

Bobby sat patiently as they babbled for a moment ensuring that Ray wasn’t harmed too much, smirking a little. He didn’t really mind being the third wheel on his own birthday - it helped take away from some of the guilt.

“Okay!” Rose said finally, standing and adjusting the bottom of her tank top. “I think we should try the Meditation Sunrise, so it will guide us through every motion and we don’t have to think.”

“Agreed,” Bobby nodded, with Ray doing the same. “The less thinking the better.”

Rose pressed play on the first track as all three of them sat in their assumed meditative positions with their eyes shut. Calm, synthesized music floated out of the speakers of the boombox, with light chimes twinkling here and there.

“Welcome to Meditation Sunrise. This first exercise is to help you free yourself from resentments and embrace forgiveness. Listen to my words. Focus on my voice and soon you will be free of anything that stirs up anger. This can be anger toward another person, anger toward a higher being, or even anger toward yourself…”

Bobby felt his heartbeat increasing and strained to keep his eyes closed. He tried to sit up straighter so that he could breathe in even deeper. He could hear Ray and Rose exhaling, sounding so calm and relaxed, and let out his own breath hoping it came out the same way.

“Forgive faults. Resentment comes from Latin, meaning ‘to feel again’. We all have these feelings, and they all visit us from time to time. Sometimes we hold onto things in the past that have caused harm. These things were painful. Letting these feelings continually visit us repeats that pain. In this exercise we are here to let it go…”

Taking a careful peek through his eyelashes, Bobby checked to see what Rose and Ray looked like. They sat close together, holding hands with the remaining ones shaped in circles. Rose had her head tilted back, so free and open to the sky, so light from the weight that wasn’t sitting on her chest. The flames from the tiki torches flickered and Bobby squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t focus on them instead.

“Now we are going to envision that we have a shovel in our hands. We’re going to dig. Get that shovel deep into the rich soil and lift it up. Set the soil to the side. Smell the fresh, upturned earth. If you want to, you can kneel down and take some into your hands. Let the soft, rich earth be cool to the touch. Let it calm you.

“Imagine you are digging in a garden and planting a seed. It’s a seed of happiness. It’s small right now, but will grow as we continue through our meditation. We just need to go a little deeper into the ground…”

Bobby’s mind was transported back to the cemetery he’d visited earlier. It travelled all the way to the funerals - open ground, lowering cheap wooden boxes. His hand filled with a small amount of dirt.

“Stop,” he muttered, eyes remaining closed. Rose and Ray were still entranced.

“Stop, stop, turn it off, I can’t -” He felt his breathing get uneven, and Rose was already in front of him, cradling his face and wiping away tears that he didn’t realize had escaped. He jerked away from her touch. Ray rushed to stop the playback on the CD.

All he felt was heat rising everywhere. In his veins, all over his skin, the fireball growing like a small sun in his chest, and apparently tears could be hot, too. There was too much rage building up inside. Bobby let out a frustrated cry and kicked over the incense burner, the camping lantern doing down with it. Turning, he almost hit a paper lantern and he whacked it off the tree as he headed back inside the house.

Rose caught up to him and frantically tried to block his path.

“Bobby, I sincerely apologize, I did not know it was going to be like that,” she placated. He paused as she stood before him, pleading. “If you need me to, I can get you a different present, I just wanted to do this because you had seemed interested and thought we would have a fun night together - Bobby, I am so sorry!”

Looking back at her, he sighed heavily and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t need to get me anything else,” he told her solemnly.

Ray had joined them and put an arm around each of them. A twinge of reminder came to Bobby as he recalled Luke doing the same thing for him. But coming from Ray, it still had the warmth and love connected to it that he needed. He looked between the two of them.

“That was a bust,” he said. They all chuckled a little, albeit with heavy hearts. “But having you guys still made it a good birthday.”

His friends both muttered an “aw” and they came together in a group hug. Bobby sighed as they both squeezed him so tightly before breaking away.

“So what do we wanna do, then?” he asked.

“We could watch Wayne’s World,” Ray suggested.

“Baby,” Rose objected, giving him a look.

“What?” he lifted his hands defensively. “I could make a dip, we could grab some tortilla chips, you know I love dips.”

“But Bob -”

“No, I like that idea,” Bobby interrupted. “Ray makes some good dip, I’ll give him that. I think we can hold off on the meditation for now. Wayne’s World it is.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #bobby #bobby wilson #fanfic #happy birthday bobby #birthday celebration #tw: death #tw: anxiety #tw: ptsd #tw: funeral #tw: survivor's guilt

[hornsandthings]

Can you do Cassian as a mate head cannons? Thank you xxx

hi! i struggled a bit w/ cassian’s character, but i wanted to fulfil a request within a reasonable timeframe for once hehe! kept it a bit vague but added some story too. i hope you like it and thank you for requesting! x 

headcanons: cassian as a mate (ACoTaR) 

you were a surprise. when his scouts had called him to come investigate something odd, he had expected another strange yet concerning scene involving those wretched creatures slowly encroaching upon prythian. however, it was you who he’d found on the southern borders of the court, wide-eyed and shivering in some frost-lined cave. it was so ridiculously unbelievable that cassian barked an incredulous laugh in the silence that followed, unable to take his eyes from you. there was nothing funny about it, however - you had found yourself in a place where no human should be.

he didn’t know what to do with you - he hadn’t met many humans outside the archeron family. even so, you seemed different: wilder, perhaps even savage. the way you were looking at him made him uneasy: with reverential fear, with awe, with unabashed curiosity. how ironic - he was usually the one to intimidate, not the other way around. cassian couldn’t get anything out of you - all you did was stare, either ignoring or not comprehending his questions. he was considering sending someone for feyre, but it was then when you reached out a hand to him. something about the scene - you on your knees, looking so weathered yet such… hope in your eyes - clutched at his heart, and so he grasped your dirty, shaking, ice-cold hand, not knowing for quite some time the true importance of the moment.

your presence elicit conflict within the inner circle; there had been hot and loud debate on whether to send you back, especially after nesta had identified you as one of those rotten children of the blessed. a group of misguided humans, thinking fae akin to gods. upon learning that, cassian could now make sense of your strange behaviour. it made him uncomfortable, to say the least - his life was of no more or less value than yours, yet he knew there were some fae out there who would take advantage of the power imbalance. when he turned to look back at you, he found you already staring, and he’d never forget the first words out of your mouth: “please, don’t do that. i’ve come a long way. something told me i’d find safety here.”

eventually you were granted refuge at the house of wind. you were quiet about your past, becoming reserved and offering nothing but vague responses to the inner circle’s questions. at first cassian had suspected mistrust, but he soon came to realise that you couldn’t offer any information because perhaps you weren’t able to confront it yet. you seemed to have latched onto him, often keeping him company when he was at the house - something that became more frequent over time. your curiosity was loud and genuine, bombarding him with all kinds of questions ranging from thoughtful to inane. sometimes it was annoying, but sometimes it was endearing, too.

when he finally found out about the mating bond, there was no elation, no relief. cassian had been so sure that nesta was the one, felt it in his bones despite the conflict which always plagued their relationship. and yet, to have a human mate… it was a special kind of sweet sorrow. he finally broke down in azriel’s arms one night, unable to bear it any longer. “this wasn’t supposed to happen,” cassian had croaked, knowing the chances were near impossible. the thing that fate had given him, had intended to be his life-long constant, was doomed to only be a fleeting thing. azriel had held him, quiet and thoughtful as always, pulling him back from the edge with his words: that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

the realisation had made him want to become distant - just the thought of you brought heartache. he had hoped that if he kept to the training decks and avoided the inner house, the others’ presence would keep you at bay. within days, however, you had walked right through the milieu of clashing swords and moving bodies, grasping his shoulder and saying: “you finally know.” cassian would never admit it aloud, but your severity frightened him, and your prior knowledge shamed him. he searched your eyes and found that he couldn’t ignore this. he didn’t have the luxury of it, which he had thought he’d have with nesta. there would be no miraculous transformations this time.

it took time - limited, precious time - but cassian did fall in love with you, bit by bit. at unexpected moments, you’d reveal a tidbit about your journey across prythian, and he’d gently coax some elaboration. first came all the wonders you’d witnessed: the bright landscapes, the creatures, the flowers. sometimes you’d touch upon the dangers, and your sheer constitution never failed to impress him - he even became proud of you. the most mesmerising was your faith: it was the mating bond which had guided you here, something which you never should have noticed in the first place as a human. it humbled him, to know that you risked everything to make it here. “thank you,” he once said to you in a quieter moment. “you came all this way to find me. thank you.”

while he was somewhat relieved by the fact you had gained both weight and colour since your arrival, cassian found it hard to overlook the many dangers a fae court posed to a human. velaris was safer than most - if not all - cities, but who knows which illnesses could befall a human and spare a fae. he couldn’t help but worry when you were out alone, or when even a seemingly normal cold kept you down for a few days. during those periods, he’d stay at your side despite your - and the healers’ - reassurances, loathe to give up even a single minute. you two had already lost so much time; oh, how he had wished he had found you earlier. you’d hold his hand, comforting him rather than him comforting you. “i promise i’ll be alright,” you’d murmur, carding your fingers through his hair. he’d find comfort in your soft breaths, in your warm skin.

rhys had eventually caught on, and urged cassian to live in the moment. “you’re grieving her before she’s gone,” rhys had said, a sad and understanding smile on his face. “she deserves your utmost attention instead.”

one night he watched you closely as you sat on his lap, tracing the faded scars on his wings. you hadn’t yet asked, and quite frankly, cassian wasn’t going to bring it up unprompted. your touch was soothing, however, light and loving. “i’ve got scars there, too,” you murmured, making cassian frown and grip your hips. he shifted until he could catch your eye.

“on your back?” he clarified, taking care to be mindful. you nodded, slowly shrugging off the nightclothes. it was unconventional, the way you showed him - coming close and hugging him tight, letting him see the long, raised lines on your back as he looked over your shoulder. the sound he’d made was involuntary - a mix between a growl and a gasp. he pulled you even tighter against him, big and gentle hands caressing your back. again he was reminded of human fragility, but also human strength. your strength. you nosed along his neck, pressing a kiss there to reassure him that you were fine.

cassian made a vow then, cupping the side of your face. his voice was not as solid as usual, but the same conviction was still there. “i’m just a man, my heart. i’m not as powerful as you think me to be, or as noble. mother above, i’m bastard born. i don’t deserve half the praise you afford me. but i do love you, with every fibre of my being. i promise you’re safe here, and you’re safe with me. i love you so much, now and--” he faltered, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i’ll always love you.”

all you did was smile and nod, giving him a sweet kiss. it took effort to not break down with all the worries that crowded his heart, but cassian forced a deep breath and kissed you again, and again, and again. you had become so very important to him so very quickly that sometimes it felt like whiplash, but you were worth it all.

#acotar x reader #cassian acotar x reader #cassian imagine #acotar imagine #acotar fanfic #cassian acotar #acotar