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freelancearsonist · 8 days

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oblivion

➔ Dave York x gn!Reader - 2.2k

➔ Dave left years ago to keep you safe from him. Now, he comes back to finally claim what’s his.

➔ Rated MA for kinda dark fic?????, gn!reader (no pronouns or anatomy described), reader is able-bodied but otherwise is physically a blank slate, infidelity (Dave cheats on his wife w/ reader), smut, choking, biting, blood, this is the midnight mass au that no one asked for [pls let me know if i missed any warnings you think should be included :)]

➔ Thank you to my love @ozarkthedog for this prompt, if you're reading this ily <3

Everyone is leaving this island–your home–in droves. The seas are drenched in oil, and there’s nothing left to fish or net. People are moving on to bigger, better things. But not you; you’ve never enjoyed the mainland, never craved the just-another-face-in-the-crowd feeling of those big cities. You love your little small town, even if most of it is gone now.

You go for your nightly walk, and the loneliness gets to you for the first time since the spill. There’s no lights on in house windows, no kids playing out in front yards. It’s just you as the sun goes down, casting everything in fiery red and orange brilliance.

Some nights seem darker than others, regardless of the star visibility or the moon’s phase. It’s almost like the air swells and surrounds you until it feels like a thick, dark blanket. It can be almost stifling; and those nights never quite leave your mind.

That’s what it feels like tonight, and for no discernable reason. There’s a wicked sense of foreboding–even more so than you’ve come to be accustomed to. It ramps up even more so when you see the only other house in the neighborhood with lights on: Dave’s house.

Dave left with his wife and daughters two years ago, long before the spill destroyed the island’s economy. No one’s stepped foot in it since–you figured it just never sold. But certainly it hasn’t sold now; who would want to move to the island at a time like this?

Curiosity gets the better of you, maybe because a traitorous little part of your brain wonders if it’s Dave. If he’s finally come back for some reason, if he’s here to fix things. That nagging little hope keeps you up at night more often than you care to admit; that he might return and you’d get a second chance. Either way, you don’t think twice about walking up the short driveway to knock on his door.

It’s completely silent for a long few minutes; long enough that you almost knock again. But maybe this is just some fluke thing, an electrical malfunction or something that turned his lights on. He swore he’d never be back, after all. It’s just wishful thinking.

It started on your night walks. He jogged the same route every single night after the girls went to bed, and eventually his jog slowed to a walk when he would come alongside you. You’d walk side by side and talk about anything and everything, vent about work or life and tell each other little stories. Before too long, you knew him better than anyone, and it was all completely by accident. Just the neighborly kindness of him slowing his pace to chit chat with you.

And then this man who you shared nothing with besides a nightly exercise route, after weeks of small talk every single evening, kissed you. In the middle of a street, in the middle of a very small island community where every single person knew every single thing about every other person; a community where every single person knew that Dave was married, and that he wasn’t married to you.

You dragged him home to scold him somewhere that no prying ears would catch it, and somehow you ended up in bed underneath him. All desperately breathless kisses and deeply earth-shattering thrusts and muffled moans of pleasure.

He whispered that no one had ever made him feel so alive before, that he’d never wanted someone more. And you wanted to believe him, so you did.

Miraculously, no one ever found out; not about that first time, and not about the million times after. No one ever found out about all the times that you swore up and down it could never happen again, only to fall right back onto your knees for him. No one ever found out about the time that he finally agreed with you, and the way you cried yourself to sleep when he stuck to it and didn’t catch up to you on your walk the next night. No one ever found out about how the next night after that, he caught up to you and begged for you–for your forgiveness, for the feelings that only you had ever been able to make him feel.

And for a while, it was enough. Being his at night under secrecy of darkness was plenty; until all of a sudden it wasn’t. Until you would bump into his wife at the market and nearly have a panicked breakdown by the time you got home, wondering just how much she knew. Until he would say things that were heavier and heavier–things that translated to something akin to ‘I love you’ without actually being the words. Until he had to leave for a work assignment.

He’d be gone for a week. That was all. A simple job, he’d explained. Somewhere overseas, but that was really all he said. He never liked to talk to you about his work much. He said he’d be back before you could even miss him.

But it was a month before he returned, and he came back different.

Withdrawn, dark eyes darker than usual, sunkissed golden skin looking a little insipid. You tried to convince yourself that he was just coming down with a cold, that the way he’d put his hand around your neck just to feel your pulse thrum under his fingertips and squeeze a little tighter than comfortable wasn’t related; that the way he nearly broke skin from biting into your shoulder so hard wasn’t anything to be concerned about; that the way he seemed to have doubled strength while he was away wasn’t cause for alarm.

You lied to yourself because it was easier than the truth; whatever had happened on his assignment, he wasn’t the same man anymore. The man you had started to fall in love with, circumstances be damned, was long gone.

But it came to a point where the truth couldn’t be avoided any longer, because the inevitable can’t be postponed indefinitely. Ignorance is only bliss until the truth comes unapologetically crashing in.

He fucked you so relentlessly it scared you. The hands that had once held you so gently were pushing you into positions far past your comfortable range, his hips were thrusting hard and deep enough to bruise. He saw the tears that leaked from the corners of your eyes and called you pathetic; and just like that, you knew your Dave York was gone. Where to, you weren’t sure. But something in his roughness, in the way he wanted to hurt you, made you sure he was never coming back.

You pushed him off of you and told him to get the fuck out. For a moment–one flickering, horribly tension-fraught moment–you didn’t think he would. The most terrified you’d ever been in your life was when you looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but violence.

For a moment, you didn’t know what he was going to do. And then he hastily pulled on his clothes and slammed the door shut behind him without a word.

You didn’t see him on your walk the next night, and the following night after that there was a U-Haul parked in front of his house. Part of you was relieved at the sight of boxes and furniture being lugged out of the front door into the box truck; another, more complicated part of you wanted to fall to your knees right there in the street and start screaming.

You felt his presence before you saw him–just behind you to the left, out of your field of view. You didn’t turn to look at him; you couldn’t stand to see his face when you asked, “Why?”

“There are worse ways to hurt you than leaving,” he murmured, low and deep. “If leaving is what I have to do to keep you safe, then I’m never fucking coming back.”

You turned at that, because what the fuck was that supposed to mean? What would he have to keep you safe from?

You saw so much sadness in his brown eyes that you nearly broke down sobbing. You knew right then that it was over. There was no begging him to stay, no changing his mind. You didn’t even really know if you actually wanted him to stay, at that point.

He walked away to help the movers lug a couch before you got a chance to say anything; no ‘I love you’, no ‘I’ll miss you’, not even a simple ‘goodbye’.

By morning his family was gone, him included. His house stood empty for two years with not a sign from him. Until tonight.

The living room lights cast a warm yellow glow over the front yard in the dark even through the obscurity of dusty window blinds. You’re tempted to peek through and see if you can tell what’s going on inside after standing on the stoop unacknowledged for a few minutes; just as you make the decision to snoop, the front door opens.

It’s him. It’s really fucking him. He hasn’t changed even the slightest bit. His brown hair is still cut short and neatly styled, his handsome face is impeccably shaved. His dark brown eyes are just like you remember them, from before; the hatred and violence they held those last few days isn’t there anymore.

He whispers your name, and then his eyes flash. “You’re still here.”

“Of course I am,” you reply, on guard. “This is my home.”

His fingers twitch on the doorknob, like he’s contemplating shutting you out. “I didn’t know anyone was still here. I wouldn’t have come back.”

“Why did you come back?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

His eyes shift for a moment, jaw set firmly. “It’s the only place I have left.”

He doesn’t have to put it any clearer than that for you to know that his wife isn’t in the picture anymore. You wonder what happened between them, but a selfish little part of you is triumphant at the fact that he came to you.

Except he didn’t, not really. He said himself that he didn’t think anyone was left. That he wouldn’t have come otherwise. Why wouldn’t he have come?

“You need to go,” he says firmly, moving to shut the door in your face. But your hand shoots out before you can really even contemplate it.

Now, you say what you wish you would’ve had the courage to say all those years ago. “I missed you, Dave.”

You can see his patience is waning–his hand flexes anxiously against the door but he doesn’t say anything quite yet, and you know his is your only chance for closure.

“You said, before you left, that you were protecting me by leaving. What do you have to protect me from?”

“Myself,” he growls. His eyes flash dangerously, the same way they did two years ago.

“What…”

“Each man kills the thing he loves, honey,” he murmurs, stepping closer. It feels like he’s towering over you now, looming ominously. You don’t remember him being this imposing before he left. “And I… I loved you.”

“I loved you, too,” you whisper. Hindsight is funny like that–your brain reveals in hindsight what your heart can’t reveal in the moment. “We can… we can make this work, Dave.”

You should be more hesitant. You should remember how scared of him you were at the end, how strange it is for him to show up here in the middle of the night all alone. You should wonder why he’s back here now, when everyone else is gone.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growls, all the while moving closer to you as if you have a magnetism he can’t avoid. “I’ve changed.”

“I’m asking for a second chance,” you plead as you set your hands on his strong, solid chest. He’s so achingly close now, and yet he still won’t touch you. “I’ve changed too, I’m… I’m willing to make this work if you are.”

He licks his lips, dark eyes focused… on your neck? Why is he looking there of all places?

He notices that he’s been caught when his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze. He just stares at you for a moment, then two, so close that each breath you exhale mingles with his.

And then suddenly he’s leaning in. You let your eyes flutter shut, awaiting the sweet sensation of his lips on yours after so long; but it never comes. You wait, and you wait, and then you feel something puncture the side of your neck.

It’s sharp, and it hurts. Your eyes snap open and all you can see is Dave; his body curls around yours as he gulps eagerly from your punctured artery. A weak hand comes up to nudge his head halfheartedly–somewhere in the back of your mind, you delight in the softness of his hair between your fingers again after so long–but his arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place and your weak resistance is futile.

He was right, you think as your vision blurs around the edges. You really didn’t have a clue what you were asking for.

➔ beta: @futuraa-free and @mothandpidgeon (thank u so much my loves <3)

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#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york one shot #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #cece writes

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Dead Friend Forever: Notes on the Finale

We made it! And I am... mostly, if not wholly, satisfied. That ending was both better than expected and still fell short in a few key places, and there are clear indicators of industry business interfering with the final choices (a common Thai bl problem these days).

The Good

The hallucination sequences were excellent, felt super well grounded in everything we know about these characters, and the way it connected to the real world consequences for each of them was excellent. Fluke stabbing his own eyes, Fluke and Top dying trying to fight each other while they denied their culpability to the end, Jin maiming his own hand, Phee reliving his promises to Non that he utterly failed to keep, and Tee stabbing White thinking he was Non all felt like very appropriate consequences. I am devastated that White died, but it's not an inappropriate consequence in this genre. He got involved with a bad dude and he paid for it.

New's final moments with the hallucination of Non were beautifully done. We've been building to this final breakdown for weeks, and he was too far gone to keep on living. I said last week he was already a dead man walking, and I felt that every moment in this episode. He tried his best to avenge his brother, and mostly succeeded despite Phee turning on him. Phee being the one to kill him in the end was also a good final sin for Phee and completed his descent and betrayal of the brothers over the last several weeks. I appreciated that his hallucination sequence was longer and more detailed than the rest; he had actual commitments to Non, so his betrayal was worse.

The Not So Good

A copout ending and too many loose ends. This episode was great right up until the moment they chose to air an ambiguous ending to protect a ship and attempt to please all fans. They wanted to have their cake (keep the show's main ship intact) and eat it, too (punish them as the narrative demanded). Rather than pick up the axe left on the ground last week and finish the story with Phee and Jin getting what was coming to them, they did an out of nowhere time skip, set up a happy ending for them, and then ended on an implication (but not a clear confirmation) that actually they did die back at the cabin and this last few minutes was another fantasy sequence.

This was frustrating for a few reasons: it broke the mood, tone, and rhythm of the ending, it denied the audience the catharsis of seeing Phee and Jin die, it gave a nod to a happy ending for them that didn't go at all with the narrative, and it wimped out on delivering a more definitive and fitting ending for them. Not to mention that this ending left us with no closure on Non's death, which happened offscreen, or the axe left on the ground and signaled to us as a clear threat in the penultimate episode, or who exactly was behind the mask at various moments. Even if they wanted to do this time jump and final twist, there were much better ways to do it, such as actually showing us Phee and Jin's bodies still in the woods. Leaving it this vague was a copout of a choice designed to appease fans, and it felt like one.

In The End

All that said, I read that ending as a confirmation that Phee and Jin are in fact dead back in the woods. Jin's maimed left hand was never shown in the jump forward, which would have been a crystal clear indicator that it was real. The whole tone of the sequence felt wrong and very discordant with everything that came before. And I simply can't accept that Phee would be allowed to murder New and still survive this story. It would be wrong, and the show clearly knows that, which is why they acknowledged it with that ending.

I enjoyed the experience of watching this show, and I thought the writing was truly excellent through the first nine episodes. The pacing issues and weirdness around the Phee and Jin material began in ep 10, and we can see why now that we know the ending. I wish the drama had stuck to the courage of its convictions and ended on a stronger note, but I am satisfied that most of the characters got what they deserved. It's been a pleasure clowning with you all.

#dead friend forever #dff the series #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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justmeinatree · 4 months

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hi love ! How are you ? Can you please wrote another imagine about y/n being louis fan and louis have a meet and great and He flirt w y/n and then he whispered to wait for him to get some drinking together.please theres weed too ! Thank you sm love , youre my comfort acc there 🫂 so so so hot fanfic of yours ! Thank you 💗

right so this kind of got away from me 😅 i’m not sure it’s exactly what you wanted, but my brain just kind of took off. if you wanted something different, please don’t hesitate to reach out and ask for something new ! 🫶

Word Count : 1.4k

you weren’t quite sure how you ended up here. at the bar. with louis.

actually, that’s not true. you knew exactly how it happened. you ended up meeting louis. bit of a fluke, really, as he was doing a meet and greet, and you happened to walk by. curiosity getting the best of you, you stood in line, happy to have a very quick, brief chat with him, a warm smile, and a handshake goodbye.

what you never expected, or really understood why, was upon walking away and exiting the building, to have a hand land on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you.

and what you expected even less, was to be staring back at oli, a smile on his face, shyness creeping up on his features, as you looked at him, confused, “sorry, did i forget anything ?”

“no, no,” he was quick to get out, “m’actually here to ask you something.”

and that’s the story of how you ended up in a bar with louis. seems you had piqued his interest, and he sent his friend over to tell you so. and invite you to join them for drinks later on.

which, after a few drinks in your system, the conversation seemed to flow nicely. something you were slightly shocked about, considering you were incredibly nervous, and didn’t think you’d have much in common with him.

but the more you banter, and the more time you spend with louis, the more that seems to fade. but only slightly. it was louis for fuck sake.

“s’hard to hear, wanna go outside ?” louis asks against your ear, making you nod back at him, before following the path he’s created towards to exit.

as soon as the door closes, the booming bass gets blocked away, the quietness of the nighttime making you realize how loud it really was in there.

“that’s better,” louis sighs contently, as if he was reading your mind. “alright if i smoke while we’re out here ?”

“of course,” you smile, hoisting yourself up on a ledge to sit, while louis paces slowly, fiddling with his lighter, taking the first drag. which based on the smell, was not a regular cigarette like you had originally imagined.

“want some ?” he laughs, “see you eyeing it. don’t have to be shy, can just ask.”

“sorry,” you bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks, a bit embarrassed that you’d been caught staring. “yeah, i think i’d like some,” you nod, hoping that the weed would help to loosen you up a little more than the alcohol had been.

“here,” louis smiles, stepping up towards you, hand extended to you to pluck the joint from between his fingers. “and there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“sorry,” you say again, a giggle rising from your chest, as more heat prickles your cheeks. christ, you were so awkward. “think m’just a bit nervous around you.”

louis leans against the wall that you’re sitting on, staying fairly close to you, without actually touching, his eyes looking up to catch yours. “i make you nervous ?”

you nod, handing him the joint back, starting to feel the prickly high, thankful that your nervousness was waning because of it. “i don’t know how to be around you. m’not really sure why you’d get oli to come fetch me in the first place,” you chuckle. “feels like i don’t really belong here.”

louis splutters around his puff, coughing some smoke out of his lungs, shaking his head, as he catches his breath, “hope i’m not making you feel that way. i want you here,” he murmurs, hand tentatively landing on your knee, flicking his eyes to yours again, making sure the touch was okay.

“why on earth would you want me ?” you laugh, “nothing special about me.”

“now that’s not true at all,” louis tuts at you, handing you the joint again, letting you finish it off. “so far, you’ve been way more interesting to talk to than any of the idiots in there,” he hums, thumb pointing back over his shoulder, towards the door to the bar. “you’re also much prettier than any of them,” he adds a bit shyly, looking for your reaction again.

but he’s met with a simple chuckle, roll of your eyes and a slightly playful huff, “you brought a bunch of guys with you, i’d be slightly offended if you didn’t think i was prettier than them,” you answer sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“don’t take compliments well do you ?” he mutters to himself, making a show of pondering for a moment, “not gonna make my job easy, if i want to flirt with you.”

you can feel your eyes bulge out of you head, your heart stopping cold for a moment. did you just hear that correctly ? “fuck, how stoned are you ?”

louis laughs, shaking his head, taking a step away from the wall to stand in front of you, “gonna make it real hard, i see.”

“stop saying shit like that,” you giggle bashfully, hiding your face in your hands, “why would you even want to flirt with me ?”

a moment later, you can feel louis’ hands wind their way around your wrists, pulling your hands gently from your face. the soft brush of his fingertips against your sensitive skin sending a shiver down your arms. his eyes meet yours, a smile quirking up the corner of his mouth, “there she is. beautiful girl. might not have known you very long,” he chuckles breathily as it’s literally been a matter of hours, “but i’ve already learned that you’re incredibly kind, sarcastic, sweet, playful, happy,” he coos, “all things that make me want to know more. that make me curious to see who you are.”

he’s taken your breath away. he took the time to watch you, to see you interact with others, with himself, to find out what kind of person you actually are. and he’s managed to do it in a matter of hours. while drinking and smoking, mind you. something that others haven’t been able to do in much longer timeframes. and for some reason, your trauma filled brain is just not buying it.

“m’just being a good person,” you shrug, “there’s nothing to it really, nothing to admire,” you reply, watching louis’ eyes roll again.

“m’gonna have to work real hard,” he coos quietly.

when did he get so close ? when did you heart start beating so fast ? when did you start feeling his breath fanning across your skin ? when did his fingertips reach for your cheek in a soothing glide ? when did you become so mother fucking enamoured ?

“wanna have the opportunity to get to know you more,” he murmurs, mouth so close to yours. “and to kick the ass of whoever made you unable to see how much there really is to admire.”

“louis,” you puff out, eyes locked on his, breath caught in your throat. he knew just what to say. and maybe for once, you actually wanted to give into it. maybe it was your opportunity to give someone a real chance. maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to break down that wall of protection you’ve so eloquently built around yourself.

“will you let me ?” he whispers, his mouth even closer. so much so, you can almost feel the movement of his lips as he speaks. “will you let me get to know you more ?”

“m’scared to get hurt,” you admit quietly, your gaze leaving his, flicking down in slight shame. “what if you regret getting to know me ?”

louis shakes his head, eyes softening as he looks over your features, because now he really wants to hurt whoever it was that hurt you so badly. his fingertips glide along your jaw to your chin, getting your attention again. “how could i possibly like you less, if i know you more ?”

you bite your lip, a warm heat spreading through you, forcing a smile on your lips. one you couldn’t hold back even if you tried. “those are song lyrics,” you giggle quietly.

“yeah, so what ?” he laughs softly, his nose fluttering against your own.

“so, i hate that it’s working,” you bite your lip, resting your forehead against his.

louis hums happily, eyes fluttering shut, the hand that was resting on your knee, now working its way slowly up your thigh to your hip, “really wanna kiss you right now.”

“i won’t stop you.”

……

Masterlist

tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms @cc-horan28 @acesofspadess

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fic #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson blurb #louis tomlinson one shot #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson series #louis tomlinson masterlist #louis tomlinson fluff #louis tomlinson writing #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson x you #louis tomlinson request #one direction #asks #writings #justmeinatree #tommomylove91

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pretty-little-howtown · 4 months

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Mimic

Astarion x Bard!Reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.0k

gn reader

You arrived back at camp having finally defeated the Goblin leaders. You sat down in your tent relaxing, knowing you had limited time before the teiflings came to visit no doubt to throw a celebration party.

You sat up on your bed roll with the tent flap flowing gently in the wind. You took a deep breath holing your hand just below your rips feeling your diaphragm. You relaxed your breath with a low controlled him. You focused on you sounds you’d heard that day from the footsteps of your companions to the voices of the goblins milling about when you first entered the sanctum.

Your mind zoomed in on the most intresting voice you’ve had the pleasure of hearing since the day you met. You rescaled his quips throughout the day. There were so many tones and subtleties to his dulcet tones you couldn’t wait to unravel.

The voices of your other companions weren’t that hard to recreate. They were so easy for you to replicate you would often sit in your tent whispering things in Gale’s voice without much of a thought. You would chuckle to yourself at how easy it was to mimic their voices. To replicate their tones inside of you mind and repat things they had said while in the road of in camp.

Astarion’s however, proved to be more difficult. You had practiced night after night. You hung in the vampire’s every word hoping to crack the code. You were alway close but they was something about his voice that alluded you.

You took another deep breath this time pressing down gently on your diaphragm. You left out a slow sigh changing to pitch ever so slightly until you hit just the right note. With this in mind you tried saying one of his quips from the day, ahudsting the cadence with each word.

You prepared yourself for another fruitless attempt when you surprised yourself with how Astarion-like you had sounded. To make sure it wasn’t a fluke you picked his favourite phrase. You slowed the pace of your words replicating the rhythm and mixing it with his tone of voice.

“Hello darling,” you wrapped your lips around the words, accentuating the syllables. Making sure to draw out each one.

You paused eyes wide and mouth open. You left out a small laugh reeling from the fact you had finally gotten it right. You said it one more time just to be sure and like a child let out a few kicks of excitement.

You stood up and got out of your tent giddy and ready to make preparations for the teiflings’ arrival.

Astarion sat in the sunlight reading his book watching you rush around the camp moving things out of the way and organising the stacks of books they had collected over the last couples days.

He chuckled as he saw you uncork wines smelling them and splitting them into two groups. One was significantly smaller than the other and he had no doubt in his mind that you were keeping the best for yourself.

He’d been watching you’d do the better part of an hour, with the only mildly annoying pep in your step.

He looked back down at his book turning the page when a shadow blocked his sun. He sighed and looked up from the page only to see Gale stood in front of him. That was all it took for Astarion’s mood to sour.

“It’s lovely to hear you take some initiative,” Gale began. “I really didn’t think you would want the teifling refugees to be anywhere near our camp tonight but I stand corrected.” Astarion looked in with a slight grimace of his face.

“What on earth are you talking about?” his face twisting in disgust even further.

“Ah you may pretend now but I heard you making lists of the food that needed preparing. It’s good to see you open up to new people.” Gale walked away leave Astarion stunned. He couldn’t even begin to understand what he had just heard. Making lists? Him!

The party was in full swing as you milled about socialising with everyone who came to visit. They each give you their thanks and their gratitude. It almost flaws you. You never thought you’d be helping people in such a tangible way. You never thought you’d be adventuring on the Sword Coast wiping out goblin hoards and saving refugees.

You had to excuse yourself from your conversation with Zevlor to get yourself another drink. You wouldn’t be able to take the thanks without blurting out how surprised you even were that you managed to kill the leaders. Especially considering you had never held a sword in your life before you crash landed in the nautaloid.

You walked over to your tent grabbing the one you had stashed earlier. As you ducked out of your tent again you noticed Astarion looking intently in your direction. You walked towards him with deliberate steps occasionally glancing at the rest of the party.

When you got to his tent you greeted him, without thinking, with his favourite phrase in his exact voice. You watched shock cloud his face as he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“I was going to ask why Gale believed I had been making preparation for this dull party but it seems my question has been answered.” He remarked. How were you able to do that?

You chuckled at his reaction apologising for mimicking his voice without thinking.

“I think we all know if I was planning the party things wouldn’t be so incredibly dreary.” He smirked, quick to resume his mask of emotions for you. “Tell me, how did you manage that? I’m surprised you have any magic left after today.”

You explained it was nothing to do with magic just a hidden talent of yours. You couldn’t help yourself as you finally managed to mimic his voice after trying for so long.

“Well, I would love to hear more. Perhaps later tonight, when everyone else is asleep and it will be just you and me.” Astarion smirked at the information, his plan was already falling into place and he hadn’t yet lifted a finger.

A/N: it’s 3am, I’ve only just recovered from the first migraine I’ve had in years but I had to get this out of my head. I have not proof read this and probably won’t until tomorrow evening. But either way I hope you enjoyed. I’ve just started playing the game and I’m absolutely loving it so far !

I can write 1k words of Astarion fanfic in a night but apparently 3k word of the essay I need to write for my degree eludes me.

#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 imagine #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bardic inspiration #bardic things !#pretty this isn’t smth bards can do in dnd but I do not care !

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shanastoryteller · 2 years

Note

Happy Halloween! Please continue Slytherin Harry!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Snape pushes some of his responsibilities onto the prefects because he's head of their house more out of a lack of other options than anything else. Well, there's Sinistra, but no one wants that.

Agnesa doesn't mind. She's a prefect because she wants responsibility, after all.

"What do you want?" Snape asks after she barges into his office.

If she's going to do part of his job, then she's not going to knock. "We have a problem."

He pauses in writing, looking up at her. She paces in front of his desk rather than sitting down, and that gets her a raised eyebrow. She doesn't usually let her anxiety get the better of her. Another reason she's a prefect.

"It's Harry Potter," she starts.

"Enough," he growls, cutting her off. "I don't care and I don't want to hear it. Just give him detention if he's giving you a hard time."

Agnesa stares. "You have to care."

Something about her tone melts his irritation into just a frown. "Why?"

"Because he's the Boy Who Lived and he was raised by muggles, which is bad enough, but they're - they're not good muggles and he's so little and none of his clothes fit and his glasses prescription is out of date and he - you have to do something!"

Snape's frown has deepened, but it's not the sneer that he gets when he's feeling especially mean. "Why are you telling me this? You could report it to the headmaster."

Percy had said the same thing. She expects that kind of ignorance from her favorite Gryffindork, but Snape should know better.

"You have to care," she repeats, "because the headmaster doesn't. If he did, then this wouldn't be happening. Harry told me that Hagrid picked him up, and no matter about the jokes everyone likes to make about him, Hagrid’s smart and he must have told Dumbledore. If he didn't know already."

Snape doesn't insult her intelligence by pretending to misunderstand her. That's why she likes him even if he's sort of the worst. "You want me to try and outmaneuver Dumbledore? Be realistic."

"No," she says. "Harry Potter saved all of us. Whether it was a fluke or some protection or - anything it else, it doesn't matter. The curse that should have killed Harry ended up freeing the rest of us and dooming him to a miserable life with an aunt and uncle who aren't deserving of the title. I won't stand for it. You have to do something."

Snape won't listen to her and kicks her out and she's angrier than she's been - ever.

When she goes back to her dorm, there's a slip of paper on her desk written in a familiar spidery hand.

Remus Lupin

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #harry potter

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raelle-writing · 1 month

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DFF Finale and overall series thoughts

I had to sit and process the ending of the show for a while, to really sit with my thoughts and process and decide where I landed. And here's where I'm at:

I didn't mind the ending, but I very much do mind all the dropped plot threads on the way.

The ending felt like a waste of a really thoughtfully put together series. It felt like throwing all the interesting characterization and nuances of the plot away in favor of having a shock "horror" ending. The ending itself wasn't bad - I personally don't mind a more ambiguous ending. And particularly in a show that was so divisive and controversial, leaving people room to their own interpretations was probably the best possible resolution.

What I mind are the threads that were dropped. I mind the jacked pacing of the final three episodes. I mind the missing characterization of Jin. I mind Non's death scene not getting the weight it needed. I mind Keng's death basically happening off screen.

I mind that they gave Tee a ton of nuance only to give him the most brutal ending, when it would've been so much more meaningful for him to die saving White's life. Saving one innocent boy where he couldn't save the other. That would've been a heartbreaking redemption for the darkest character in the show, who was shown to do all of this even though he didn't want to.

I mind that they had Phee kill New when it would've been more meaningful for Phee and Jin to get New out of there and get him psychological help. The thing they couldn't do for Non - helping him to recover from his trauma and maybe, someday, move forward.

I mind that they gave us such an ambiguous ending when something concrete would've been so much better! Like from a horror perspective I don't mind the ambiguity, but from a storytelling perspective I find myself really dissatisfied. I would've liked to see:

Tee dying to save White

Phee and Jin getting New psychological help

Jin admitting that Keng groomed him as well (which is a headcanon but is a way better explanation for Jin's hallucinations. Though I don't entirely mind that his hallucination were a manifestation of his guilt)

The survivors having to face actual justice. Fluke living but being put in jail for his part of things. Jin facing consequences for his part in Non's undoing. New facing consequences for the people he killed.

I know, I know. That's not a horror ending. But it would've been way more satisfying AND a better resolution than what we got.

#dead friend forever #dff #dff the series #dff meta #phee dff #jin dff

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steventhusiast · 10 months

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more autistic steve with ARFID (avoidant restrictive food intake disorder) projection time BUT this time a less hopeless and sad day for steve because i have had a good two days :] CW disordered eating

part 1 / part 2

since steve’s current period of bad with ARFID started and he told eddie about it, eddie started a nightly routine for them. every night when they get into bed and lay there on their sides, facing each other, eddie does a little check in. it’s always the same question: how do you feel about today?

it makes steve feel different things every time eddie asks it. sometimes it brings instant tears to his eyes because the day was so hard and he feels defeated. sometimes it makes him avert his eyes and pick at the sheets because he’s embarrassed about how his eating habits impacted the day. sometimes it makes his jaw clench in anger because he’s frustrated with himself and the fact that his boyfriend has to act as his god damn therapist every evening. it usually rotates between those emotions.

but today? today it brings a new emotion forward. fear.

because today has been strangely good. he reached his goals of eating a full breakfast, lunch and dinner. and the thing he’s most proud of is his dinner and the hours after.

recently, his dinner meals have been substituted for safe foods; cheese sandwiches, an apple, a packet of chips and chocolate bars. he feels guilty for rejecting whatever eddie’s cooked every time, but the thought of putting a spaghetti noodle or piece of cooked fish in his mouth makes him anxious at the best of times and nauseous at the worst. tonight though, he had felt hungry. the meal being cooked sounded appetising, and he ate it.

sure, it took him longer than a typical person would take to eat a meal. and sure, it was still a very safe version of a real dinner meal (breaded chicken strips and french fries). and sure, he had to distract himself a bit with the TV while he ate. but he ate. the whole. thing. the smile on eddie’s face as steve ate had made him feel so proud of himself, and the anxiety he’s been feeling recently during meal times had been suspiciously quiet. easy to ignore.

after a meal is usually the worst parts of the day for steve. he hates the sensation of being full, and feeling the food sitting there in his stomach, hates the knowledge that it’s going to sit there for hours while it digests. and sure he still got anxious tonight, but not debilitatingly so. there was no pacing back and forth, no self-harmful stims. he managed to just sit with eddie and cuddle him quietly while he practiced his breathing and watched what was on the TV.

so, eddie as usual asks his nightly question.

“how do you feel about today, lovely?”

steve hesitates and mills over what he really wants to say.

“..good.” he settles on, but feels dread pool in his gut as he says it. eddie raises an eyebrow in response.

“you don’t sound sure.”

“today was good. it’s just..” steve trails off, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words.

“what if tomorrow’s not?”

“what do you mean, baby?” eddie props himself up on one elbow as he speaks, brows becoming furrowed as he puts all his attention on steve.

“you were so proud of me today, for eating well. what if i wake up tomorrow and food feels harder again? i- i want to get better so bad and i’m scared that today was just a fluke or something.” he doesn’t fully think through his words as he talks, he just lets them spill directly from his brain.

eddie looks at him for a few seconds as he thinks.

“well, if tomorrow isn’t as good as today, we’ll still get through it, we’ll still try with meal times, and we’ll still go to bed just like this.” eddie says like it’s the most simple thing in the world.

steve makes a slightly confused noise. how does that answer his question?

“baby, all you can do is keep going for me. you’re gonna have good days, and bad days, and in between days. and i’m gonna be here for all of them, okay? i’m proud of you every day for different things.”

steve looks away from his boyfriend.

“it’s scary to not know.. i want this to be.. over. i miss enjoying food all the time.”

eddie gently reaches out and lays a hand on steve’s cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly.

“i know. we’re a team though, right? today was good, and instead of being scared tomorrow will be bad, let’s try and be hopeful it’ll be good again.” he says.

steve lets himself be guided back to looking at eddie’s face, and sees a wholly earnest expression there. he nods, takes a deep breath, and offers a smile.

he can try this whole hopeful thing.

#me but if i wasnt scared to jinx things by having hopeful thoughts 💀#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #autistic steve harrington #steddie drabble #mywriting #cw disordered eating

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malereader-inserts · 1 year

Text

Homesick

Fandom: Haikyuu Pairing: Hinata Shoyo x Male!Reader Summary: You would leave if only you could find a reason. You're mean because you grew up in Miyagi, you got dreams but you can't make yourself believe them. Word Count: 842

Home, it's a place that will always feel the most welcoming. In all the places Hinata had visited, he craved nothing more than to be back home in Miyagi - sure, all the other places had things he never got back home. But, home to him was his family, his number one supporters and his favourite person.

His secret person and he intends to keep it that way. As much as he loved all his volleyball friends, you were the only one who kept it real to him.

"Well, well," Their voice invited him, causing Hinata to smile widely, "If it isn't the volleyball fluke returning from his ventures."

"(L/n)-san!" Hinata greeted you as you fully appear in his line of vision, he was jumping higher than ever before jumping on you, "I've missed you!"

You smile mutely before patting him on the back, indicating for him to get off you. You weren't much of a touchy person and you limited any contact with anyone as small as possible. Hinata grants your wish as he slides down onto the ground.

"I better get home for dinner, but I'll talk to you soon, will you be busy tomorrow?"

"For you?" You softly asked, "Never."

"It's nice to be back."

Hinata lay next to you on the grass in the nearby park, watching the clouds pass by. You had your eyes shut, the sun was too bright for your eyes and at that moment you could fall asleep to the sound of Hinata's voice.

"How're things?" Hinata asked sincerely, you stop for a second - no one had really asked that from you, granted, you tend to tuck yourself away to get to know anyone, "I've seen you've dropped new music - read all the reviews, they love it."

"Yeah," You agreed, opening your eyes slightly as you turned your head to look at Hinata, "Things are well with me, getting popular by the day I guess."

"That's good! I'd love to be friends with a celebrity."

You chuckled, "You're already a celebrity, Shoyo, and all you're volleyball friends."

"A different type of celebrity, I mean I know Semi-san is an upcoming artist, but I don't really know him - Tobio knows him more than I do. So, he doesn't count, but you're already popular in the music industry."

"I don't know about that."

Hinata sits up, pulling out his phone, "Look, (Y/n), you're top five songs have a million listen and you're telling me you're not popular?"

"I'm only popular because people want to see my face, I bet after they see this I wouldn't be popular."

"Not everything is about looks," Hinata softly scowls at you as you chuckle a bit, "I just don't get why you don't branch out? You could be making millions, making tours around the world! Don't you want that?"

You shrugged your shoulders as you sat up, "It's home. It's a shitty home and I guess it's great motivation for me to leave, you know, the fuck away from hibernation."

"Language!"

"You're such a prude," You laugh before standing up and stretching, "Come on the swings with me!"

You ran a head start as Hinata easily caught up with you to the swing, you were both out of breath, laughing as you take a spot on the swings. There was silence between you two as you both swung at your own pace.

"I'd love to show you off," Hinata finally says, slowing down his pace on the swing, looking at you every so often.

"I thought I was your little secret person?"

"I take that back," Hinata admits, "I think the world should know about the fantastic (L/n) (Y/n)."

"I think the world isn't ready for that."

"Are you?"

There was silence.

"When did you come back with so much wisdom?" You joked, before stopping your swing, "You know I'd love to leave Miyagi if I had a reason to."

"You have plenty."

"And I got dreams but I can't make myself believe them."

Hinata stops his swing, snapping his head to you as you look at him inquisitively.

"Well, I believe in you and when you're ready to show yourself to the world, I'll be by your side."

"You're trending!"

"Yeah, I know, Hinata," You say over the phone, biting your lip trying to refrain yourself from smiling.

"Are you still in Miyagi?"

"Uhm, no," You sighed, "I finally got over my homesickness and decided I should take your advice and branch out after you know six months of doing nothing about it since I last saw you in person. I've moved to Tokyo, I know it isn't exactly close to the Black Jackels base."

"No! That's great, I'm really happy for you!"

"Good," You spoke softly, "I'm glad you're happy for me."

"Well, I'm glad the world gets to admire you as much as I do."

"Thanks, Shoyo, that means a lot to me."

"And I was wondering, next time I'm in Tokyo, we meet up for food?"

"I look forward to seeing you."

#hinata shoyo x male reader #hinata shoyo #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #x male reader

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eatsleepbreathefutbol · 1 year

Note

One with Chris- you find out you’re pregnant but you don’t tell him immediately cos he’s been super distant and stressed cos of his injuries this szn and you felt that putting this on him would be too much atm, but he finds out and gets upset with you that you didn’t tell him and you say “ you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks, we’ve barely even been a couple and you want me to put this on you as well??” And he feels like crap... please give a cute ending !!!! Love your writing xxxxxxx

Of course

Recently Christian had been stressed out because of the season and the amount of injuries he kept having. He would come home late and would leave at the crack of dawn, before you would wake up. You started feeling like your body was off, you couldn’t put your finger down quite yet on what it was but you knew something was up.

This morning Chris had left at like 6am, and right after you had woken up to throw up. So right after you brushed your teeth got into your car and drove to the closest pharmacy in a oversized hoodie so the paparazzi wouldn’t recognize you, but why would they be up this early you thought. The minute you pulled up you went into the store bought the pregnancy test then left right after to not cause commotion.

You went home and took the pregnancy test, waited five minutes for the results. The results came back positive, so you started freaking out because your mind kept telling you it’s not going to work out because you’ll end up being a single parent. So you kept pacing back and forth thinking of who to call and what to say. You left the test on the counter and went to the kitchen saying you’ll throw it away when you think of something.

You went to the kitchen grabbed a water and laid down on the couch, and fell asleep. You didn’t notice Chris had came home from training not that much after! After he had put his bag down he grabbed the blanket off the couch and threw it on you and went back to yalls room to take a shower, in the bathroom where the pregnancy test was in. The minute he walked into the bathroom he screamed realizing what was laying on the counter. Which woke you up from your nap, and you ran to the bathroom seeing the picture in front of you unfold.

Chris held the test in his hand “Are you serious Y/N, you couldn’t had the decency to tell me about this? Like is it even my kid to begin with? I can’t start to explain how hurt I am about this-” you cut him off mid sentence, “For fuck sake you’re hurt about this Christian? You’re constantly leaving early or coming home late, and the one time you come home early I leave the pregnancy test out without reading through my crystal ball that my boyfriend who is constantly stressed out and constantly injured is coming home early” you said sarcastically “You’re out here trying to start World War 3 for something that shouldn’t be a big deal, and yes it’s your child dumbass cause I would never cheat on you no matter how forgotten you have been of me!” Chris was standing there with his head down “how far along are you Y/N?” you got irritated “Oh so now I’m Y/N to you because I supposedly messed up, well Christian Mate Pulisic I don’t fucking know cause I found out this morning” you were tapping your foot against the hardwood floor, “you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks, we’ve barely even been a couple and you want me to put this on you as well?”

Chris came up to you and embraced you in a hug, “ok babe we’ll get through this and I’m sorry for making you mad! I know I haven’t been a good boyfriend, I need to let you in and talk to you so we can be a couple instead of strangers!” You hugged him back and started crying, Chris kissed your forehead “Let’s go get your favorite snacks and watch Encanto along with Someone Great babe” you got excited “ok but this better not be a fluke of fate like I want to be here for you but I’m starting to not know how to!” Chris wrapped his arm around your waist, “Yeah babe I know and I’m sorry for making you feel like this”

I’m sorry for taking this long to write this piece! I hope you enjoy reading it anon 🫶

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic imagine #football imagines #football imagine #futbol imagines #futbol imagine #soccer imagines #soccer imagine #chelsea fc imagines #chelsea fc imagine

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anotherblblog · 2 months

Text

Dead Friend Forever episode 12 blurb/series retrospective

wellllllllllllllllllllll that was the goriest, slasheriest, kill 'em-ness I've seen in Thai or any bl series

the episode was kinda short and the pacing made it seem rushed but not I'm sure if I really felt rushed or if it was just a breakneck pace

I do like that a lot of the theories and wishes weren't achieved/realized and the series still feels good. Like I know I wanted White and TanNew to live and at times Jin and Phee too but all of them ending up in this ceaseless purgatory slaughterhouse is kinda fitting. Non couldn't escape his fate due to the actions of others and the rest of the group couldn't escape the fallout aka TanNew's life implosion and his pursuit of vengeance for his brother and family

Cuz like yeah White, it truly seems, was just at the wrong place and wrong time. The theories and sentiment of White being part of some Perth and TanNew third killer ace in hole was nice and could have worked but it didn't happen and I don't feel the show really lacked for it

Like we saw one of the masked killers with crutches and the killer always had a maybe magic, maybe mundane vibe the show liked to play with. So perhaps Non really did survive somehow or maybe he just really had a rather unmarkable end after his harrowing captivity and enslavement

anywho standouts for the episode and series -

TanNew going full slasher - lovely, wonderful, great job Mio. You sold and I bought. And as an elder sibling, bitch I don't necessarily condone your behavior but I motherfucking understand you and also why you were Phee were destined to have a falling out. Phee did geniunely love and care for Non but the information that Phee had because Non specifically and intentionally lied to Phee meant that Phee could ultimately move on with Jin but TanNew was frozen in that grief and by Phee interrupting TanNew's attempt, Phee sealed his own fated too

Jin's hallucation montage - kinda campy in a good way and also like really modern. Like this type of voyuerism enabled by modern technology is really scary. Like gays have been fucking and sucking in bathrooms since before bathrooms were existed and will continue to (and last night at this bar I was at - there were several gays keeping me from peeing because they were fucking in the bathroom stall). So I compare how the leaked sex tape was used in this series with Only Friends and I do feel DFF really did that subplot and theme so much better

The first third of ep 12 aka the slaughter house - like it's a series so total suspension of disbelief to let the series tell me that Top can get shot in the stomach (or near enough) after a series of beatings and days of high stress and still have the gas in the tank for a final fight. But the tension and motivations were really high and going from the joker class clown who kinda started a lot of the Non ends up a slave plot by Top breaking Por's camera and Fluke mister always trying to keep my hands clean but always being near and having the truth but not sharing taking themselves out together was obvious symbolism to me and still really good. Then going from that to Tee being made to inadvertently kill his lover and the person who inspired him to better himself while White's last images are his boyfriend who he like 3 minutes ago learned was a really massive piece of shit and a victim and victimizer and (I don't know about Thai laws and accidental death or manslaughter and all that) but learning your bf is connected and inarguably one of the biggest participants in this Non situation surely must have not felt good, then he stabs you while you think it's because you're not pretty. Madness and chaos and really cool scene.

Phee, Phee, Phee, our series lead - overall I think Ta did a fantastic job. Like so many times, he would enter a scene and I would think "this dude has stage presence" - highlight of him was the revealation he was Non's boyfriend as he saves Non from his attempt. That episode and the one prior with this abscene were fine and good but when he came back onscreen, it was like, yeah, you've got IT. Now the finale arc with him is frustrating because of the discourse and the piety of people and shipping. Yes Non was groomed. Por is the closest person in series to call out the massive inappropriateness of Keng and Non. But it is critical to point out, that Phee did not know about that and saw Non being hugged and comforted by Keng, so he made the deduction that Non was hot for teacher. And then the disappearance and police stuff happened and Phee was motivated to find the truth. He was fueled by his own guilt at his last words to Non but even as he was trying to find Non, as he told his dad, he wasn't sure how he felt about forgiving Non because Non told Phee to his face there was nothing wrong and then Phee watches Non and Keng fucking. So yeah, it makes sense he could could join in on TanNew's plan but he didn't have the same stakes that TanNew did.

The mean girl messy clique worked because you saw that it was largely a friend of convenience for them and you had two different type of alpha girls (Por and Tee) and then a lacky Top and two people who seemed to be voting for the leopard eating face party because they didn't want their own faces ate

The heat was decently high and the NC scenes were really good, that ass slap is iconic

Lows

we didn't get enough with Jin. He was arguably the 2nd or 3rd most "important" character to this maybe and we just didn't get enough of him or his character for him to be fully realized for me

Overall BoC's second series was really good. I think they avoided the sophomore slump.

Maybe the dead friend forever is the friends we made along the way

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #dff the series #dead friend forever episode 12

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player1064 · 23 days

Note

June 2004

WIP asks but it's just the various sections of my happy (???) beville (/angsty carraville) WIP

ngl this section might not make it into the final cut not bc I don't like it but bc now that I've done a couple of becks pov sections I feel like this one might work better with becks' pov than with gary's.... but we shall see

---

June, 2004.

David’s entire career has been built around set pieces, around people saying that there’s no-one they’d rather have on a dead ball than him. Always the one to step up for corners, always the first name on the list of penalty-takers.

So he struggles, when a game ends like this.

“It’s not your fault,” Gary tells him, over and over again. Even though they both know that it is. “It’s England, innit? Penalty curse an’ all that.”

David doesn’t seem to hear him, or maybe he’s ignoring Gary’s obvious bullshitting. He just sits on the bed, curled in on himself and staring at his hands as he methodically cracks each knuckle.

He’s not crying. Gary almost wishes he would, thinks it might be easier to offer comfort to his partner when he’s not so trapped inside his own head, spinning round and round until it makes him sick. If they were in England they’d be at the training grounds right now, stood on the pitch in the middle of the night with David saying just one more kick, Gaz, I have to get it through this hoop. And again – can’t do it just once, might be a fluke. One. Two. Three. Perfect. And again. I need to do the run-up from a different angle, at a different pace. Again. Again.

Gary wonders if anyone in Madrid would’ve done that for him, stood out there freezing in the dark for hours at a time, just watching, waiting. Let him tire himself out, then take him home and put him to bed and tell him it’s not his fault, it’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.

No training pitches here, though, and no chance of sneaking out when the city’s still up celebrating Portugal’s win.

He sits himself behind David, pulls him back to rest against his chest. David still doesn’t say anything, but after a moment he feels some of the tension start to leave his body.

“Becks,” he says quietly, “you’ve played much worse games than this. Let’s blame Ronaldo, eh? The Portuguese one, I mean. Obviously. The Brazilian one wouldn’t be playin’ in the Euros, would ‘e? Fuck me, that’s gonna get confusing.” He’s aware that he’s starting to ramble, but his brain is itching to fill the silence so there’s not much he can do to stop it. “Let’s call ‘im Cristiano, that’s easier. He’s insane, Becks, honestly. I’ve never seen someone play like that me whole life, it’s – there’s no winning, against him. So let’s blame him, and then when we go on pre-season tour and you meet him proper you can speak to ‘im with all that Spanish you’ve been learnin’.”

“They don’t speak Spanish in Portugal,” Becks says hoarsely, like it’s an effort just to get the words out.

“Do they not?” This would explain why Gary’s not had much luck with the Spanish to English dictionary he’s been keeping in his locker. “Tha’s weird.”

The corner of David’s mouth ticks up a fraction. “You’re pretty,” he murmurs, stealing the line Gary normally reserves for when David’s not understanding whatever he’s explaining (ranting about) to him.

Gary sighs. “Home tomorrow,” he says, reaching for one of David’s hands to give it a squeeze. “Mum and Trace said your stuff’s got back alright, so at least we won’t have to deal with all that unpacking nonsense when we get in.”

“Home.” David smiles properly this time, tilts his head back to look up at Gary. “I’m comin’ home.”

“That you are. You spoken to the Boss at all?”

“A bit. Think we’re gonna be alright. Can’t believe fuckin’ Carlos is coming back too, can I not ever get a break from him?”

#this section brought to you by 'gary is stupid too' understanders #beville #wip asks

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cebwrites · 11 months

Text

The whole 'love' thing with Kirin completely blindsided them; Law was the last person to realize their own feelings It takes months of random meet-ups on islands and their crews unintentionally getting to know each other better while they fight natural disasters and marines and sea monsters etc for Law to even consider Kirin and co not a threat, even though the Hearts had long since considered them friends maybe after the third or fourth time of saving one another from certain death

The bullet scar on Tetsu's shoulder that his tattoos are curved around was from him catching a bullet originally meant for Bepo, I think that's around the time Law drops the "every other pirate group is inherently untrustworthy" charade and starts thinking of them as allies (in the friend sense, not the pirate one lol)

From there it was just their crews running into one another again and again since they ended up heading the same ways, or travelling together intentionally no longer with the pretense that "they're just paying back the debt" I feel like things get complicated for Law here because Kirin already had a partner (they've always been able to see other people but Law didn't know that at the time)

Adding to the fact that Kirin's always been flirty from the start (toned it down when Law didn't show any interest though) and affectionate with his friends, Law just assumed that this was Kirin being friendly - even though they were sharing spaces, inside jokes, looks, sometimes Law was even comfortable enough to pick a crumb off Kirin's face and vice versa before they got weirded out by the tingling in their stomach and had to move away

On the flip side after Law's initial reaction, Kirin sorted away in his mind that Law wouldn't be interested at all and kept interacting as he normally would with them but kept the pining to himself (and anyone with eyes close to him) while Law's feelings grew and changed without them realizing

Kirin's crew and presumably also Law's wanted to whack their heads into a wall watching these two idiots, it was agony watching one be convinced that the other would never love him because they just weren't into him and the other jealously watch him and his partner from the sidelines but at the same time NOT making a damn MOVE or saying anything ffs boys your crews are this close to crying

It takes Bepo pointing out that Kirin and co would be valuable assets in their fight against Doflamingo for Law to realize oh shit they don't want these people (but especially) Kirin to get hurt and several hours later of pacing a hole into their office floor they come out bedraggled to hell mumbling oh god oh fuck I'm actually in l-- (they won't say it quite yet lmao Disney princess) I think it'd be fun if it was something innocuous like Bepo or Shachi saying over the phone something along the lines of "oh that's because you like him, right?" Penguin has more tact I feel and everything comes crashing down and clicking into place for Law at the same time

Once they've both gotten the mortifying ordeal of actually confessing and getting together out of the way, not too much has changed at least on the surface Kirin still hangs out in Law's office when he's over, they still both gravitate to rub shoulders during crew meetings and whatnot, Law still finds Kirin sleeping in random places on their ship and when he has to leave it feels like there's just that much less warmth in the Tang, but they've felt like that for months before this (ie not realizing those feelings)

Kirin's hypersexual out of habit (another suitcase to unpack) but he's never made any passes that would make them uncomfortable, he's chill in Law's company and lights up when they give him the permission for touch but otherwise he's just a guy in Law's space

For a bit Law worries that this might be what they've gone through all over again, that the spark was a fluke and that they don't want this as much as they thought they did, but then the casual affection starts Their first kiss wasn't spectacular, there were no fireworks in the background and no parade to ring them in (obviously, Law expected this)

But what they didn't expect was that with every subsequent kiss or touch they'd want so much more, the little things mounting up like noticing the crinkle in his eyes when he smiles, how Law knows Kirin isn't particularly interested in Sora but he's there to listen to them infodump anyway or even participate in the conversation on occasion, the way Kirin’s eyes softened when he looked at them across the room and the smug façade seemed to drop for a second, putting a little bit extra food on their plate when they all eat, just how affectionate and loving this man is with the people that they love

It took a few years for those things to rack up but suddenly Law’s sitting up in bed at night unable to go to sleep because they want to be comforted by one man specifically and he’s not there to do it It’s not like they’d go full PDA at that point bc Law’s still Law, but Kirin does get pulled away into the captain’s quarters more often so they can just- *hold* each other and soak up on all the missed affection being a few weeks to months apart entails

It’s a long story but by the time Wano rolls around (three years into their relationship) Law’s a lot more confident in themself and what they (him and Kirin) are, they’ve also had some self-reckoning and issues to confront since Dressrosa and Kirin coming to find them hell over high water on Barto’s ridiculous ship, so nowadays Law is a lot more chill about other people seeing Kirin show them affection, even returning the favor every now and again if they’re so inclined

#cebrambles #one piece #op law #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #law x oc #lawrin

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gobblewanker · 2 years

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The Mystery and The Isosceles

Ch 10: Northwest Mansion Masquerade

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"I'm not going to sleep, I need to be alert in case someone comes down here." Ford glared at the seagull perched high up on a cargo crate, eyeing him disapprovingly as he paced around the hold. It cawed mutinously.

"You know very well that I've gone longer without sleeping than this." He snapped back.

No, sleeping was absolutely out of the question. He didn't think he could even if he wanted to. He was in enemy territory, hiding in the damp dark depths of a stranger's ship. Not just strangers; pirates. Pirates that he'd helped steal a ship from its legitimate owners. But no, it was for the greater good. He had to get back to Gravity Falls before Bill could send someone to steal the relic he was after. Or worse, launch an all out attack to do it himself. If the ship's original owners had known his reasons, they would have thanked him.

He kept pacing, nerves winding themselves tighter and tighter until it felt like something in him was going to snap and break.

Any minute someone could enter the cargo hold. There had been people down once already, but they'd only checked the items closest to the door and Ford had stayed deathly silent in the far back and mercifully avoided detection.

Rationally, he knew that this wasn't Bill's ship. He also knew that he was a lot more capable of defending himself than he'd been thirty years ago. But he was still trapped in a dingy pirate ship. Outnumbered and alone and…

Scared.

His nerves were eating him alive. Despite his best attempts and despite the passage of days, he still couldn't shake the sight of Bill down on that empty stretch of beach.

The man's crew had changed, but eerily, Bill himself didn't seem to. He was still the same brown-haired, shark toothed, monster. He hadn't aged a day. But there was something about him that didn't line up. Except, Ford couldn't pinpoint it. Because the second Bill turned and by a fluke passed his eyes over the patch of trees where Ford was hidden, everything had suddenly started going dark. He should have shot the bastard and ended everything once and for all. Bill never even saw him. But Ford hadn't.

Because Bill unknowingly looked at him, and suddenly Ford was twenty again: Disheveled and curled up on his side, whimpering against the filthy floor of The Isosceles' captain's cabin surrounded by gold and expensive fabrics and blood.

Bill looked away, completely oblivious. But Bill was also right there beside him. Above him. Towering overhead, circling his prone body, hissing and screaming and whispering threats smooth as silk. Like the silk curtains framing the burning port outside the windows.

'You sold yourself.'

Bill sneered at him.

'You sold yourself to me for the safety of your friends. I own you.'

The present and past were mixing together into a disorienting blur. He trembled through the darkness, grasping with shaky hands for the logic that had abandoned him at the mercy of memories.

'You did this.'

The door to the hold opened, unexpectedly halting Ford's spiraling tirade. It wasn't opened abruptly or loudly. It was so quiet in fact that it seemed like whoever did it was trying to get in undetected. But Ford was too skittishly vigilant not to notice. He turned around, ready to fight if hiding failed. But it was just the little girl from before.

"Hello?" She whispered into the silence. Ford considered staying quiet and hoping for her to leave. But she already knew he was there. Better to see what she wanted and send her on her way again.

"Yes?" Ford stepped into the light.

The girl smiled at him, relieved. In her hands she carried a small square tray with a plate of food on it. She walked up to him with a slight bit of hesitation, before holding it out.

"I convinced Susan to give me seconds." She smiled at him with a bit of trepidation. "Cause, uh, I figured there wasn't much for you to eat down here."

Ford eyed the food skeptically and considered turning it down; it was probably safe to eat, he doubted the child would seriously try to poison him, but it didn't exactly look appetizing. Not that ships food usually was. But his stomach gurgled demonstratively and he relented, accepting with a curt nod and seating himself on a crate. The girl didn't leave, instead settling in front of him.

There was some kind of meat—most likely dried and salted and stored for who knows how long—cooked with potatoes and something orange. A piece of hardtack lay under it all to soak up the congealed animal fat and hopefully turn soggy enough to eat without breaking the teeth. He grimaced at the unappealing food, but he'd had worse.

"There wasn't any fresh food in storage. You might not want to touch the bread, there were beetles in mine." The girl shuddered. "Soos said it was still okay to eat, but I gave it to Waddles."

"Duly noted." He picked up the offending food item and inspected it. He could just barely see something moving. Biscuit weevils, probably. Well, his gull had never objected to eating bugs. Or anything for that matter. "Stan?"

The bird jumped down next to him, taking the food offered and making short work of swallowing it clumsily. Good, if he was fed then Ford wouldn't have to worry about letting him out of their hiding place to scrounge up his own food. And right now, he didn't want to go without the reassurance of a familiar presence.

"I like your bird." The child said. "Can I pet him?"

"That's up to him."

The seagull tilted his head, looking at her, before clumsily flying over to land on her shoulder. With the old bullet injury, he couldn't stay airborne for long. But his wings could carry him for a bit at least. He croaked quietly—Ford was very glad that Stan seemed smart enough to know when they needed to stay quiet—and ran his beak through her long brown hair.

"So…" The child began, scratching the feathers on the bird's head. "Where are you going once we get to Gravity Falls?"

"It's probably for the better that I don't talk about that." Ford answered. "What about you, though? Once you've returned the governor's daughter, what will you do?"

She shrugged.

"Don't know, but that's okay. The Captain has a plan." She said. "I trust him."

Ford's teeth grinded against each other and his shoulders tensed.

"You don't seem like a bad child. Don't you have anywhere else you can go than… This?" He closed his eyes. "These are not good people."

"You don't know that, you haven't met them." She fired back. "You refuse to meet them."

Ford huffed irritably. "Oh yes, of course, do forgive me for not presenting myself on a silver platter to a band of thieves and deviants." 'Again' he thought grimly. No, he'd learnt his lesson from Bill. "What makes you so sure they're good people when all signs point to the contrary?"

He was speaking faster, his voice rising. The gull left the girl and returned to land in his hair, pecking the top of his head once. The weight was grounding, and his voice fell into a more measured tone again.

"You should go back home. Don't you miss it?" He continued.

She fell quiet, looking down on the floor sadly. "I miss our room." She conceded.

"With your parents back on shore?"

"On our old ship." She answered firmly. "The one we lost fighting Bill, because we're not the bad guys."

How could one child be so stubborn?

"Your parents are probably worried sick."

"No." She said, looking up with hard and determined eyes. Her gaze was so fierce it had him taken aback. "No, they're not. This is the only family we have."

"'We'. You keep saying 'we'."

This time it was the child who paused before nodding slowly.

"My brother." She said. "I have a twin brother."

Ford paused. That plain and simple revelation sent him reeling. There wasn't just one child, there were two. Twins. Twins in danger of being hurt, or killed, or separated by a few bad mistakes and a naive decision to trust the word of a pirate. Twins just like-...

It changed nothing and everything.

"You… Even if you don't have parents to go back to, there has to be some other option." Ford argued breathlessly, almost desperately. There was another peck against his temple, but he ignored it. "There has to be."

She looked at him questioningly, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

"It's okay. Really." She assured. "I'm protecting him.

No. No, no, this was all wrong. She was going to get herself hurt. She was a child, she couldn't even protect herself, let alone her twin brother. She was too small, too trusting, too-

Too much like Stanley.

"I-..." There had to be something he could do. There had to, he couldn't just watch fate repeat itself cruelly. "I have a friend back in Gravity Falls-"

No, Fiddleford was dead. Everyone was dead, Bill killed them, Bill killed everyone, Bill was going to kill this child.

He was pecked again, harder, but paid no mind. The bird hopped down to his shoulder, mumbling worriedly as it began preening the strands of his unkempt fringe.

"It's okay." She said, getting down from the barrel on which she'd been seated. She reached out a hand, but stopped herself and drew it back. Instead she just did her best to smile reassuringly.

Half drowned out by his own buzzing head, Ford heard someone shout from upstairs. The child who suddenly looked uncannily similar to a young Stanley threw a glance behind herself and yelled back.

"We're here." Her voice sounded distorted. "I have to go."

She turned and left.

Ford's head was full of molten gold and high pitched laughter.

Stan sighed, securing the gaudy fish-shaped mask over his eyes and adding the last detail to his uncomfortable formal getup. Of course a pair of upper class twats would think the best way to celebrate getting their daughter back safely from a murderous maniac was hosting a damn ball. No concern for the kid's feelings, no wanting to reunite quietly and privately. No, just get her back home and immediately use the occasion to doll her up and show her off. Preston was almost worse than Filbrick had been.

A masquerade ball. As if the aristocracy's dresses and suits weren't ostentatious enough without frilly masks.

At least it did present them with a golden opportunity.

If Bill was dead set enough on getting some crumbling old relic from the Northwests that he was willing to kidnap and hold off on killing a little girl to get it, then it had to be important. More importantly, Bill could not be allowed to get it. Even if it meant Stan and his crew would just have to steal it first.

Stan wished he could ditch their attempts at going after Bill and just focus on finding Ford. The idea of finally taking Bill down felt less like glorious revenge, and more like one big red herring he'd wasted thirty years on, in the light of Ford having survived. But the painful truth was that they had no other leads. All they knew was that Ford had meant to go after Bill. The only option was to follow Bill's trail and hope to anything and everything that might be watching that their paths would intertwine.

Somewhere along the way, the terrifying idea that Ford might be dead after all had struck him. Even with Bill failing to kill Ford, there were thousands of things that could have done it in the thirty years he'd been gone. If nothing else, getting to Stan's age was far from a guarantee. But something told him Ford was still alive, and Stan would search for the rest of his life if he had to.

"Oh come on, do I really have to wear this frilly-... Whatever it is!?" The voice of a very markedly annoyed boy groaned. Stan turned to watch his niblings with amused fondness.

"My thoughts exactly kid." He replied, watching Mabel help her brother tie the cravat around his neck.

"Pppft, you two are no fun!" Mabel fired back. She looked absolutely giddy with excited energy, hopping up and down in a large pink poofy dress covered in frills and fake flowers. He wasn't sure if the tailor had done an excellent job, because of how very Mabel the dress looked, or a terrible job, because of how eye-hurtingly pink it was.

"This dumb collar is choking me." Dipper muttered, pulling at the fabric in question. He wore a prim and proper vest with a jacket so dark blue it almost looked black. The crows nest on his head—Stan chuckled sadly, he must have gotten that from Sherman—was slightly tamed down with a tuft tied behind his head in similarly dark ribbon. "Why do we need all this junk? I liked my normal clothes."

"Sure." Wendy rolled her eyes. "Show up at the governor's place dressed like that, and maybe we can convince him we found you in the weird part of the woods. Nah, but I feel ya. This blows."

"The weird part of the woods?" Dipper asked, temporarily distracted from the physical discomfort.

"Eh, not important right now." She dismissed.

"Get your masks kids, and let's get going." Stan said with finality. No use stalling.

Dipper's mask was made out of polished wood with edges like gnarled branches reaching for the ceiling. Mabel's was bright and covered in little stones like sparkling stars. Soos and Wendy were coming too as backup, so they needed to fit in. The girl looked miserable with a large cumbersome dress weighing her down, but the mask hid it somewhat under more wood and clear glass details like frost staining the surface. Soos didn't seem to mind, dutifully following the others with a smile and bright eyes behind a softly curving mask.

He wasn't sure where exactly the Northwest's had gotten the masks from, but Pacifica digging some old antiques out from the attic at least meant they wouldn't have to go through the hassle of finding their own.

She hadn't exactly been happy about the idea of helping them steal from her own parents. If Stan didn't know better, he'd said she was scared of them. But the memory of that first raid three decades ago was pressing enough—even in the minds of those who hadn't been alive to see it—that any sacrifice that might keep Bill from coming back was a worthy one.

So that brought them to the crowded grand ballroom of the Northwest mansion. The grandest house on the island, overlooking the falls and the deep dark forest. The night sky hung silently above even as the party began.

There were so many people. Gravity falls wasn't a terribly small port, but it wasn't by any means a wealthy one. Save for a few landowners and captains, almost everyone present had to be off-islanders. There just weren't that many upper crust residents. Unfortunately but predictably, Preston and his wife were right there centre stage and dressed—ironically—in all white with pale masks like angels or saints. Preston saw them coming in, and Stan cursed quietly as he walked over.

"Ah, Stanley, good to see you." He smiled insincerely, snatching a wine glass from the tray of a passing waiter. "A shame you couldn't think of a costume."

He flicked Stan's fish shaped mask, and turned to share in his dumb pompous laugh with some other nearby guests.

"Well, what're you gonna do? Seemed only right to leave the masks to the ones who need them." Preston's expression soured immediately. Stan wanted to break his nose, but just smiled a conman's smile instead. Wide and disarming and not in the least bit sincere.

Preston never liked him. Ever since turning the port's fortunes around, Stan had had influence with the people. But it wasn't like the governor could do anything. An insult towards The Captain of The Mystery would be an insult towards the peasants, and he couldn't risk a revolt. The port was lawless enough that nobody would come to his aid, no matter nobility or connections.

But Stan couldn't act out either, or it might be the straw that finally broke the camel's back and brought the wrath of king and country down on them.

All they could do was make jabs under the faintest veneer of polite conversation.

"So-" Stan jerked his head, motioning for the others to follow him as he and Preston walked towards one of the tables laid out with drinks and food. Dipper could barely stop Mabel from picking up more fancy pastries than she could carry. They were supposed to be on a mission. "-did your kid not feel like socializing, or has she already been snatched out from under ya again?" He asked pointedly.

Preston grit his teeth through the smile, procuring a bell from a pocket and ringing it. Pacifica appeared within seconds.

"Yes father?" She gulped.

"Don't run, it's unladylike." He snapped. "Anyways. Stanley here was just-"

Preston said his name like it was something gross he wanted out of his mouth, but before he could finish his sentence a crash interrupted them and someone screamed.

Further down the table, the pristine white cloth was on fire. A lady in a deep pink layered dress was leaning over the table stiffly. Stan took a step forward instinctively to help, and Soos did the same at his side. But before either could act a man standing beside the woman shrugged off his long teal jacket and smothered the flames.

The woman turned her head, looking at Stan with wide startled eyes under a now slightly askew horned mask. She opened her mouth as if to say something, before the same man who'd put out the fire she'd seemingly started grabbed her upper arm and maneuvered her behind him.

He looked flustered, almost cornered, before draping the now charred jacket over his arm and fluidly righting himself again with the practiced poise of an aristocrat. He smiled apologetically, and bowed at the sudden audience.

"I'm terribly sorry gentlemen." He shook his head, righting and placing a hand on the shoulder of the lady in pink. She looked like she wanted to snap his wrist. "My dear sister must have taken fright at your mask and knocked over the candlestick. The poor woman was always so very frail."

"Ah, of course." Preston said distastefully, but nonetheless nodded. "I suppose it's only natural for a woman's heart."

Stan snorted, turning to look behind himself where Wendy was currently engaged in a competition with Mabel over who could fit the most puff pastries in their mouths. Dipper had apparently given up on protesting and was cheering them on.

"Sure, something like that." He added. "Speaking of, Mabel, sweetie? Don't you and Pacifica want to—uh—go find someone to dance with?"

Mabel lit up like the sun. Dipper looked at him incredulously.

"Dipper, chaperone your sister." He waved them off, and understanding registered on the kid's face.

"On it."

"I'll go with them." Wendy said, subtly putting her hand on the axe he knew was more likely than not hidden in her heavy skirts.

"Now hold on." Preston stepped up. "Who is she?"

Stan met Wendy's foreboding stare, grinned and turned back to Preston with an excuse he knew the stuck-up twat would accept.

"She's the nanny." He said innocently.

Wendy muttered at him, but with that said, followed the kids until soon enough they were lost in the crowd. Leaving Stan with Soos as backup.

"This way." Pacifica said quickly, as soon as all eyes were off them. She brushed away the strands of her fringe caught on the wrong side of her llama mask. "If I'm thinking about the same tapestry you are, it should be up the stairs in the library."

The hallways of the manor stretched on forever and seemed to all look the same. Even with someone who knew the building intimately, it took an uncomfortably long time to reach the door. The ornate walls and polished wooden floors seemed colder the further away from the light and noise of the party they went. The single candle they'd taken with them seemed to cast less and less light the further they went. The floor was cold. Somewhere along the way, Wendy had taken her axe at the ready, walking at the back of the group and watching vigilantly over the heads of the children.

They finally stopped at a large looming oak door. Wendy walked past them, going first this time, to push open the door and risk venturing inside.

Dipper couldn't place the strange foreboding feeling that was pressing down on them, until they entered the library proper and it hit him so hard it made him nauseous. It was the same feeling he'd gotten that day they first saw The Isosceles. The same oppressive dread as when they fished that mutilated body out of the sea.

"Here it is." Pacifica shuddered, gesturing to a tapestry hanging alone on a naked wall.

A large red eye on a dark triangle looked down from the woven fabric, as if surveying both the room itself and the scene depicted by threads and paint. Two people were depicted underneath in a field full of dead trees and swallowed by fire. The ground under them was covered in skeletal remains. It was framed by lighter brown borders, and tassels hung down from the bottom edge.

Just looking at it made Dipper's thoughts wriggle like a nest of worms, squirming around each other and eating his brain until nothing remained but a lone burning red eye.

"Yeah, that definitely feels like Bill." Wendy said. She looked tense, not uncomfortable to the same degree as Dipper and Mabel, but very much on edge.

"Can't exactly say I'll be sad to see it go." Pacifica continued.

Wendy was the first to build up the courage to approach and take the tapestry off the wall. But the second she touched the frayed old threads, something happened.

The door slammed shut as if pushed by strong winds. Pacifica yelled, dropping the candle she was carrying to light their way. In the second before it hit the floor and went out, Dipper saw the flame flare up fiercely and burn blue. Then they were completely in the dark.

"Oh what the hell!?" Wendy shouted. "Who's there?"

Dipper reached out blindly, finding Mabel reaching back much the same. She grasped his hand and pulled him close.

"Show yourself!" Dipper yelled, voice squeaky and high, but emboldened by Wendy's.

The pattern of fire embroidered into the tapestry shifted in the darkness. It had to be a trick of the light, the fire seemed to turn from red to blue, and it almost looked like the silently staring eye closed.

The formerly placid water far beneath the mansion was suddenly turning tumultuous, waves reaching high enough to slam against the windows like an angry beast trying to smash them in.

This time there was no writing it off, the tapestry was changing. The two people stood, joined by others behind them in the fire's glow. The empty eye sockets of the buried skulls flickered alight with blue. Pacifica backed into Dipper and Mabel. Wendy got between them and the relic, axe raised.

"What do you want from us!?" She yelled into the empty room.

The skulls' eyes glowed. From somewhere, there was chanting.

Flesh and bone and earthly chains

Keep him bound till none remains

"What is this?" Mabel asked worriedly. Dipper thought back desperately.

"I- I think I read about stuff like this in Ford's journal!"

"Then what do we do!?" Pacifica screamed at him, grabbing his collar.

"I don't know! I've barely translated half of it!" He defended. "I… I think it might be a-"

"Ghost." Wendy finished.

The others looked up, finally seeing what they'd been too distracted to notice. Hovering in front of them, glowing blue, was the figure of a transparent man.

He was large with arms like tree trunks and a thick burning beard providing the only light in the room. Despite the fire, he seemed to be dripping wet. A small puddle was forming under him, phantom footprints leading from the tapestry to where he stood.

There was the hilt of a cutlass buried in his stomach. His eyes narrowed as he regarded the four still living people.

"Go." His voice boomed, and the doors flew open again. "There's nothing for you here."

"But we-" Mabel began to take a step forward, before being stopped by Wendy's hand pushing her back.

"You two go find The Captain." She told them without taking her eyes off of the spectre. "Hurry."

"But-" Dipper was about to protest, but Mabel grabbed his hand and rushed out the door.

'The Captain', not Stan. Wendy always called him 'Stan'.

They ran back through the corridor as fast as possible. Arriving back in the main room completely out of breath after what still felt painfully too long.

Stan was still engaged in a painfully slow conversation with Preston, faux politely trading blows. Soos spotted the kids first, rushing over to see what was wrong. They spoke hurriedly, but stopped the second Stan was within earshot. Preston had followed. Of course, it wasn't like they could discuss stealing in front of him.

"What's going on here?" Preston demanded to know. "Where is my daughter?"

"That's-... I-..." Dipper wheezed out between pants.

Mabel looked up suddenly, her eyes widening at something behind them. Stan and Preston both turned to follow her gaze.

There was a seagull perched in the rafters.

"Ugh, disgusting pest!" Preston scrunched his nose, pulling an ornate pistol from his jacket.

"Wait!" Mabel cried. But before Preston could fire on the offending bird, a new stranger appeared at their side, kicking the inside of his knee and sending him crumpling onto the floor.

"Damn, I've wanted to do that all evening." Stan breathed.

The stranger pulled a sword, and any remaining threads of composure were severed. The party erupted into chaos. The second weapons were drawn, all bets were off.

"You!" Mabel cried at the stranger. He looked back at her, eyes surprised behind his mask. It was a strange mask, like a pair of gilded hands clasped over his eyes, but with the fingers parted just enough for him to see through.

Apparently deciding any attempts to keep a low profile were futile at this point, Dipper grabbed Stan's jacket.

"We found the tapestry!" He pointed in the direction of the library. Stan and the stranger both snapped to attention, their poses almost mirroring each other. "But there's- There's a problem-!"

Before Dipper could elaborate, the stranger took off down the way he'd pointed. The seagull in the rafters flew down, gliding to land on his shoulder.

"Shit, looks like we're not the only thieves out tonight." Stan pulled his cutlass as well, and with Soos and the kids hot on his heels he ran after the other man.

Racing through the hallways once again, Stan soon noticed Dipper starting to fall behind. Mabel was keeping up okay, but Dipper was scrawnier and already beat from the earlier sprint. Without hesitation, Soos scooped him up and kept running.

Stan nodded back at him, looking forward again in the direction they were going just in time to see the stranger reach out and tip over a pedestal with a large vase placed precariously on top. It splintered against the floor and Stan tripped, swearing loudly. Mabel vaulted over the downed pillar and kept running.

"Not cool!" She shouted angrily after him. "I gave you lunch!"

What the hell was she on about? Stan pushed himself up, his hands slick and red with cuts from the broken china. Alright, fine. If the stranger drew first blood it was only fair he give back in kind. Especially with one of his kids dangerously close to the man.

"Mabel, get back here!" He commanded. Instead, she threw herself at the stranger's legs tripping him up. Just the same as she'd done against Bill. Just as brainlessly reckless.

The other went down, spinning onto his back and raising a leg as if to kick the child off. Before thinking different of it at the last second and instead shoving her firmly. Mabel bit his hand.

Good girl.

"Okay." Stan grabbed Mabel by the bow on her dress, pulling her back and safely behind himself before aiming the point of his sword at the other man. "Who the hell are you? Did Bill send you?"

The man practically growled at Stan, baring his teeth in reply. Before he could continue the interrogation, something flew into the back of his skull.

A large bird pulled his hair hard, letting out ear-splitting screeches. He waved blindly, trying to get the animal away from himself.

"No, bad gull!" Mabel jumped to reach the feathered rat. It took off, landing on the stranger's shoulder just as he got up and kept running. They kept running after him, but as it turned out, they ran straight into a dead end.

Mabel's dress shoes squeaked against the floor as she came to an abrupt halt and clasped her hands over her mouth.

"Wrong direction! Wrong direction! Shoot, I was so distracted I didn't even think to-"

"Don't worry sis." From behind them, Dipper appeared triumphantly with Soos behind him. Neatly folded in his hands was the creepy tapestry from the library. "We weren't."

"Atta boy!" Stan beamed at them. "That just leaves him."

Stan turned back to the masked stranger. He snarled at them, pressed into the corner like a trapped animal: Ready to lash out the second anyone approached.

Stan recognized the look in his eyes. The man was terrified.

"Woah, who's that?" Soos asked.

"Beats me." Stan shrugged. "But I have a feeling Mabel has something she'd like to share with us."

She took a step back, crossing her hands behind her back and fidgeting on the spot.

"He's… He… Uh… He was sort of stowing away on our ship?"

"What!?" Stan snapped at her. "You should have said something, he could have hurt you!"

Mabel slunk back, before bolting over to in front of the masked man. He froze.

"Mabel-!"

"No! He's not a bad guy, I promise!"

Stan's breathing picked up. These kids were going to be the death of him. He walked forward very slowly, trying not to set the man off but needing to snatch Mabel back before she got hurt.

"Mabel, you have no idea who that even is…"

"Well, then he can take off his mask!"

At that, the man looked like he stopped breathing. If possible, he pushed himself even further against the wall. Somehow, something in Stan hurt at the sight.

"If we just all calm down I'm sure we can-"

"Hey!" Dipper shouted suddenly. Stan turned just in time to see an unknown tall man rip the folded fabric from his arms and take off running.

"Seriously!?" Stan shouted. He wanted to punch something. "How many fucking people are after that dumb thing? After him!"

Soos recovered first, taking off down a new set of corridors. But Stan was quickly catching up beside him.

His knees were definitely going to complain tomorrow.

The stranger with the hand shaped mask soon overtook them. His hair was grey, he had to be old, but he was running faster and lighter than Stan. He threw himself on the man like an animal pouncing, knocking him to the ground. The tapestry flew. Soos dove for it, but before he could get it someone else snatched it up.

It was the woman from the start of the evening. The one dressed in pink with a devil mask.

The grey haired man tore the mask from the face of her companion—the man who'd claimed to be her brother, Stan realized—despite his best attempts to throw him off.

Kryptos.

It was Kryptos. Bill's second mate. Of course Bill would send someone, and if that was Kryptos than the woman could only be-

"Pyronica!" Stan roared.

She grinned at him, baring her misaligned teeth and ripping the mask off.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid me and my 'poor woman's heart' isn't up for a fight right now."

She pulled something that looked like an incendiary out from her dress. But this time, Dipper got there first. Picking up the closest object from one of the accent tables, an ornate little sculpture, he threw it straight at Pyronica's hand making her drop the relic.

His aim was improving, Stan noted proudly. Judging by the new notches in the ship's mast, he was pretty sure Wendy had been giving him pointers on axe throwing.

Stan grabbed the tapestry, and with that suddenly it was everyone against him.

The grey haired man slashed at him with his cutlass, but Stan just barely dodged out of the way. Somewhere in the mad sprint, he'd lost his own sword. Instead he pulled the curtains down from the window and pulled it over the other's face. He flailed and shouted, but without his sight Stan managed to disarm him as well before being thrown off. The other threw himself over him, holding him down and desperately trying to pull the tapestry from Stan's grip.

Stan pressed his knees to the other man's chest, kicking him away. He'd been quicker and more agile, but Stan seemed to have more brute strength. The man fell against the wall, Stan wasted no time, pressing him against the expensive paneling as he snarled and scratched, ripping the mask off of his face and-

And Stan's world screeched to a halt.

Staring back at him as if through a warped mirror was a copy of his own face.

Ford.

It was Ford.

He was old and grey, fighting to break loose like a wild thing, but it was him.

His eyes were completely devoid of recognition. He looked at Stan with wide panicked eyes disguised by his furious features, as if Stan was a complete stranger. As if he was a threat.

"F-... Ford?"

He reacted at hearing the name, only confirming what Stan already realized. His eyes fell on the hands trying desperately to push him away. One, two, three four five-

Six.

He had six fingers.

Stan's mind suddenly shifted gears. From thinking a mile an hour, to grinding to a halt almost completely. He just sat there. It was like the storm of his confused emotions had blown past by half, leaving him numb and startled in the eye of the storm staring into a pair of eyes that were almost the exact same as his. There was so much to say, so much to feel, so many things he'd wanted to be able to do for thirty years. But all possibilities spun around him in the screaming wind, so quickly and so erratically there was no way to catch and hold onto a single one.

Joy—it was Ford, Ford was there, Ford was alive—anger—Ford was scarred and terrified and acting like a feral cat held down by a predator—hurt—Ford wasn't recognising him—but no single feeling stayed concrete for more than a second.

The shock was enough to distract him, enough that he didn't even realize he was being snuck up on before he was hit over the head with a gold candle holder. The blow sent him onto the floor, his head swimming and screaming at him even louder. Before he could recover and get back up Pyronica grabbed the tapestry again, taking off with Kryptos behind her.

"Captain Pines!" Soos got up beside him, helping him onto his feet. "I'm so sorry dude, I couldn't fight both-"

Stan didn't stay to listen. Before he'd even completely regained his balance, he took off after the other two. Ford was still on the ground, breathing hard and staring into nothing with that bird frantically cawing at him. He should stay, but he couldn't let Bill win.

"Soos, keep an eye on him." He snapped, beginning to stumble down the hall. He'd have no chance against two people unarmed and disoriented, but he had to try.

Pyronica stopped as she saw him catching up to them.

"You really are a stubborn old goat, huh?" Kryptos asked, annoyed.

Stan didn't answer, just did his best to right himself and glare at them with fierce determination. Kryptos held the tapestry, and Pyronica began to step forward. She procured another explosive from somewhere, but then something happened that none of them saw coming.

The window they'd been attempting to escape through slammed shut. She dropped the explosive, and it went off on its own, filling the hallway with a strange cold blue fire that had all three drawing back.

Inside of his own head, Stan heard chanting.

Between the three combatants, a puddle of water started to grow from nothing, dripping upwards against gravity. In the middle of it, the figure of a man rose from the floor.

He glared at Pyronica and Kryptos disapprovingly, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

When his eyes snapped open again, they glowed bright blue like the flames licking the walls. His face erupted into fire, and with that, so did the tapestry.

Kryptos gasped and dropped it.

"Do you have any idea what you just cost us!?" Pyronica screamed at the spectre, stepping forward and drawing her blade. The ghost simply looked at them angrily.

"You can't kill what isn't alive." He told them plainly.

Kryptos approached more carefully than Pyronica had done. He was less likely to lash out without thinking, and put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"We know." He stared the ghost down. Pyronica's hand trembled on the hilt of her sword, clearly wanting to take out her anger. But with another firm gesture, she relented and put the weapon away.

The two turned, running down the corridor.

Stan breathed hard. Stumbling back and almost falling over. The adrenaline had run out, he just felt exhausted and confused.

Someone caught his arm, steadying him.

"Don't worry, sir." Wendy. It was Wendy. "We've got ya."

He turned to look at her, pulling his hand down his face tiredly but accepting the shoulder to lean on.

"The hell is going on, kid?"

The fire faded away leaving no damage behind. Even the tapestry lay unburnt where it had been dropped. Stan saw Pacifica pick it up, warily watching the ghost all the while. She swathed the troublesome fabric in paper.

"He's my grandpa." Wendy explained, watching the transparent figure. "He died in the raid thirty years ago, keeping mom and dad safe from Bill's crew."

Stan looked back at the spirit, watching them warily.

That explained the sword in his gut.

"The tapestry?" Stan asked.

"He can't be allowed to have it." The ghost said tiredly. "If Cipher has it, my fate will befall far more than just I."

"How?"

"I don't know." The ghost looked away. "They told me, and so I defended it."

"Who?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "I'm tired. My granddaughter told me you could be trusted, that you wanted to stop Cipher as well, so… So, I'll entrust you with it."

Pacifica carefully handed the paper-wrapped bundle to Stan. He took it without leaving the spectre with his eyes

"I'm tired." The ghost repeated.

"It's okay." Wendy said. "It's okay, we'll take it from here. I promise."

The man looked at them, nodding one last time slowly and deliberately. The fire decorating his face dampened down and died. The sharp blue light illuminating the hall faded, leaving a calm darkness.

As their eyes again adjusted to the gloom, all that was left in the middle of the room was an ornate sword laying in a puddle.

Wendy carefully walked over, bowed her head, and picked the weapon up.

"We need to go." Stan said carefully.

She looked at him solemnly.

"Okay."

Ford—it was Ford, it really was—was still sitting against the wall once they came back, curled up tight, hugging himself and holding onto his own jacket in a vice grip. Soos and Dipper both stood at a distance, watching concerned and confused. But Mabel sat down right next to him, pressed side to side.

Stan got onto his knees in front of him, hesitantly putting a hand on his brother's arm for the first time in decades. Ford flinched, looking up.

The thought finally hit Stan to remove his own mask. In the struggle, he'd forgotten he even had it on.

Ford's eyes widened. His lips trembled, but no sound came through.

Stan turned back to the others.

"Kids… Meet Ford."

#gravity falls #pirate au #my fics #I've been trying to go back and add the links for future chapters on the past ones #but it's not cooperating :(

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