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ectoplasmer · 2 years

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AYYYE YOU DONE OPENED THE FLOODGATES. :D

1, 2, 4, 5, 11, 15, 16? >:3 TELL ME ALL ABOUT GHOSTIE

—@amys-cringe-cabinet <3

oof, sorry I took forever responding!! This week was a tiny bit busy for me >-< thank you for all the questions!! Tried to make Ghostie sound more interesting than she is… let’s see how far I got with that!!

1. what are the basics of your self insert? name, date of birth, height, etc.?

aaaa I'm not very creative with things when it comes to self inserting so I usually use my own name when referring to her normally, but for privacy reasons and simplicity sake, I refer to her as Ghostie!! She's a second year high schooler in Yugi's class who was born on August 6th, making her a Leo!! She stands at 5'4 when upright, has brown hair that goes a bit past her shoulders and brown eyes. She’s more or less the quiet kid in Yugi’s class at first; she doesn’t speak too often and usually has a book of some sort with her. The first few times she talks to someone, her words are either stumbled over and hushed or curt and monotone. She doesn’t seem like the most comfortable person when socializing in big groups, but she gets used to the Yuugang after a while and gets a bit better about these things. After she gets to know them, her actual traits show through. While she’s still socially awkward and a bit tentative, she’s good at things that require thinking and patience and tends to be more or less the smarts in the group. She happens to poke fun at the others occasionally, but even then she tries not to cross any boundaries and is always there to support them when they need her. She gets really interested in things easily but doesn’t tend to chase her curiosity unless it comes to her first. Ghostie was more hesitant to get into the occult for… personal reasons (more on that in question 5!!), until she met Ryou, and now you’d probably see the both of them talking about auguries and generic cults at eight in the morning. She’s interested in the old, well loved things you’d find at thrift stores, books, fantastical ideas, baking, mystery/horror movies, generic games and random facts. She knows a bit of first aid. Her favorite drink is peppermint tea and her favorite dish is pasta. Overall she’s just another soft spoken, slightly characterized cheerleader in the group. I think she’d fall under the aloof dark-haired girl trope to a certain extent.

2. when in canon does your self insert come in? do you have a scene in mind for your entrance?

Ghostie’s “seen” for the first time in canon during the day Yugi brings the Millennium Puzzle to school, just to ask what it is, but she doesn’t really get introduced until the following chapters. She’s kinda been there since before the “story” started, because she’d occasionally talk with Yugi and would ask him about the games he’d bring with him to school, or about school work and whatever else. She doesn’t really become a part of the group until a chapter or two after Yugi puts together the Millennium puzzle, when he asks her about going to Burger World with him and Jounouchi so they can hang out. She accepts, mainly because this is an opportunity for her to make friends, partially because she’s curious why she’s suddenly noticing some apparition following Yugi around.

…then she witnesses Atem literally burn a person alive but I mean!! when do you not witness your friends commit crimes occasionally??

4. would you be considered a main character, side character, villain, or something else?

Definitely a side character. If anything, she's just another cheerleader in the group. Ghostie doesn't really do anything plot relevant (as explained later on), she's just kinda there for pointing out things or adding to whatever current event is happening. Even on her own, separate from the plot, not enough important things happen to her individually that would make her a protagonist. Contrary to what this account is full of, I don't intend to have her help/assist the villains, though the idea of a role swap between her and Ryou is fun to roll around in my brain. The closest Ghostie gets to "helping" the villains is after their redemption or by trying to convince them to change, which gets expanded on later. But nah, she's just another cheerleader for Yugi as of now, and I think I'm okay with that (especially with all the other side traits I'm planning on for her!!).

5. does your self insert have any special powers or abilities?

oh boy >.< okay so. seeing ghosts. There’s no reason to exactly why Ghostie sees spirits, if not only for plot convenience. It’s just been an ability of her’s since she was young, but finding out other people didn’t see the sometimes-formless-sometimes-humanlike translucent fogs she always saw made her nervous. This led her to indirectly separate herself from her peers, as she got much more caught up in connecting the dots that she’s seeing ghosts; long dead and possibly forgotten people. It wasn’t exactly that she was scared by it (although she was), but just that she was so absorbed in observing from afar how these things acted and how people just went about their day without noticing or acknowledging them. Ghostie began feeling much more out of place when she saw things other people didn’t.

She wanted to exploit this power some how, but it’s not like she can be a ghost whisperer or a medium, because she can’t hear ghosts or see their full forms unless she knew/knows them in some way. So when she sees Yugi enter class with an apparition glooming over him, she’s suspicious. By witnessing said apparition penalty game the criminal at Burger World, she’s able to actually see Atem occasionally when he’s possessing Yugi. She tries to ignore him or act like she doesn’t see him for a while, but Ghostie eventually cracks on trying to keep it hidden during Death-T, after Honda (supposedly) dies. As Yugi’s admitting to the supposed other half of him, Ghostie interrupts him to say she already knows about that, and about his unexplained blackouts, and tries to explain how she knows. She tells the remaining group that she sees things and knows about the Dark Yugi, about the one that appears when Yugi’s most stressed, and cuts herself short of the “i probably sound insane” speech to tell Yugi that it doesn’t matter if there’s this other person possessing him, because they’re still gonna be his friend regardless and help him through the confusion and roadblocks that come with it. Later on she mentions that she didn’t see any fogs or spirits in the room they left Honda in, but not to get too hopeful as she didn’t get a very good look in after leaving.

Ghostie becomes a little more daring when Ryou first arrives in the classroom, as she spots another unexplained fog following him similar to the one that used to follow Yugi, before she actually saw/met Atem. She tries to bring it up with him during the day, but she always gets caught up in the “hey okay so I might sound insane but-“ part of the confession and gets intercepted by the group of girls following Ryou around multiple times. She eventually gives up trying to inform him of it; who knows how long it’s been following him around if she saw it the first time she met him, it’s probably something harmless, just some family member watching him, right??

…right???

Anyway after Monster World, Ryou asks her what she was trying to tell him the day before, and Ghostie admits that she always saw the spirit of the Millennium Ring, and she tried to tell him, but ignorantly shrugged it off since she thought the spirit would be benevolent or whatever. She says he’d probably think her crazy or a liar, but after she admits to her “gift”, Ryou is actually really interested, asking her if she also sees the “other Yugi” or any other spirits around. Ghostie responds in a really confused way, asking him why he isn’t upset with her or even accusing her of lying, but Ryou just responds with “We’ve been in a life or death situation together, and you’re still my friend after the fact. What reason do you have to lie, and for me to doubt you?”. He adds on afterward that he knows of the spirit’s existence now, so he can’t really accuse her and say that she’s wrong. When she continues to ask why he isn’t upset with her, Ryou just waves it off as some cruel coincidence that she wasn’t able to say anything, and tries not to hold it against her too much.

due to now being able to see Yami Bakura and Atem whenever they’re near their hosts, she tends to purposefully ignore YB just to get on his nerves and totally does not eavesdrop on Yugi and Atem’s conversations (/s). Early on in the Battle City arc, when Marik takes control of certain Ghouls, she sees unexplained fog follow them around, and that continues until they reach “Namu”, in which she doesn’t catch onto him being Marik because they don’t see any other Rare Hunters, therefore no more fog, afterwards. Ghostie can, however, hear and see the splinters following around Bakura and Anzu.

arriving at the site for the Ceremonial Duel was the biggest headache for her but… more of that self indulgent stuff later ;)

11. what kind of outfit(s) does your self insert wear?

I think I have a few different outfits in mind for her in the series, but I could summarize her style as just “comfy”!! Band tees, sweaters, overalls, etc,. She has glasses but she doesn’t usually wear them unless outside of school, since she thinks she fits the bill of “smart kid” enough as it is. She wears socks with patterns or designs on them, like stripes or little pictures. Really out of left field for Ghostie, but she likes them because it makes her look more interesting. She wears black sneakers everywhere she goes and her pair is… well loved, to say the least. She wears a lot of beaded bracelets outside of school, and she has one made for everyone in the Yuugang, along with making her friends their own bracelets. She wears a few different necklaces, like this one with a lot of rings on it and this other with a rose quartz pendant. One of the main outfits I imagine her in is the one I think she’d wear during battle city; just a simple outfit of some t-shirt from a slasher film with an unzipped dark grey hoodie over it, paired with dark blue jeans. Ghostie’s most favorite piece of clothing is this white/cream cable knit sweater that kinda reminds her of one of Ryou’s sweaters; she likes it primarily because she thinks she matches with her friend, but also because the sleeves aren’t too tight and aren’t too baggy, just comfortable enough.

15. how does your self insert play a role in the plot of the story? do they help directly defeat the villain, support the heroes, etc.?

While her ability may set her up to seem important, Ghostie doesn’t do anything too plot relevant. She’s just there for the ride and observes most everything, always knowing what’s happening but never really partaking in it. She serves as support for Jounouchi and Yugi/Atem throughout most of the series. She takes the whole “friendship fixes everything” mentality into her own hands, and she tries to befriend Yami Bakura. Ghostie figures that, if she already spends so much time around Ryou, she might as well try to make herself buds with the spirit that follows him around, right? It’ll be just like how Atem’s situation went, right?? She’s the only one who can see him and hear him all the time so he should be easier to get to know, right??? But that whole idea catches up to her during Bakura and Yugi’s duel in Millennium World, and she just gets really upset when that splinter dissipates after the shadow game. It also kinda gets to her when she sees how hurt Ryou is during Battle City from Bakura’s shenanigans, and Ghostie starts wondering if maybe she should do something to get through to the spirit so he stops doing things like this, and for some reason she feels like she needs to keep him in line. Ryou and her spend a lot of time sitting and trying to think of ways to befriend the spirit or understand why he does what he does, but it doesn’t get very far.

Ghostie’s whole “seeing ghosts” thing was meant to be like a radar for other Millennium item holders, but all of this fails when Yami Marik is introduced. If anything, Ghostie’s shocked because she didn’t see any mist or apparitions following Marik around, and she feels guilty over not knowing about another possible threat her friends could face. After Ishizu explains what exactly Yami Marik supposedly is, Ghostie feels a bit less upset with herself. Of course she wouldn’t see anything or be able to warn Yugi and Jounouchi, there was nothing to warn about. Yamima isn’t just some spirit, he’s quite literally a part of Marik. This is where she kinda acknowledges that she might need to take a breather when it comes to dealing with ghosts and feeling responsible for the things associated with it. She’s not going to see everything, no matter what weird things she does see.

Overall, Ghostie doesn’t do anything that changes the trajectory of the story; she’s kinda just there and does some minuscule things to make things more apparent or make things have a bit more depth to them.

16. freebie! name a fact about your self insert you want everyone to know.

gonna name a few here and try to make them small so it’s just tidbits of fun facts or whatever :D

I have a running joke that Ghostie keeps running into the remains of Atem’s penalty games at the beginning of the story, like finding random shards of glass or seeing a scorpion pass the side walk. Just little things that heighten her suspicion or confusion over Yugi’s behavior, but nothing that pushes her to actually investigate it.

During the Monster World arc, Ghostie chose for her character to be a fairy priest, with wisdom being her highest stat and speed being her lowest. Her first attempt at befriending or getting to know Bakura was by playing him at Slap, but she absolutely failed at getting almost all of the cards (minus the marriages, but those weren’t very helpful).

During Yugi and Jounouchi’s duel, while Jou is under Marik’s control, I didn’t really know what to do with her so I just put her in as another stressor for Yugi to participate in the game. She’s under Marik’s control for most of the duel, but now that she has the All Knowing Voice™ in her head she just waxes philosophical while being unknowing to everything going on (“if you aren’t even inside of society and you distance yourself from it, can you even be perceived?? aren’t personality traits all things that are made and judged and labelled by people and the public?? if I don’t participate in society, if I don’t socialize and I make my distance from it, if I don’t know anybody and no body knows me, am I still a person with all of my traits and personality, or am I just some unknown human out there with no true traits?? am I just the one thing I alone perceive??” “aren’t you just ‘you’ in both situations regardless? does ‘you’ really have a definition?” “…i guess??? maybe???”).

SPEAKING of Marik… going to the Millennium Stone was the biggest headache for Ghostie since she could see everything in the village. While a lot of the remaining spirits of Kul Elna had dissipated over time, quite a few spirits remained and some other random wandering beings also resided at the site, so it was really unnerving for her to enter the place. It made her a bit sick to think about what Bakura said about his village, so being there and knowing what happened made it worse. She almost decided to say a possible goodbye to Atem from outside of the Ceremonial Duel site, since she couldn’t bring herself to guess how many other dead people she would see inside, but Marik buffered behind so he could ask her if she was okay. Ghostie admitted that she wasn’t used to seeing so many spirits in one place, and it just kinda spooked her and made her a bit queasy. Marik asked her if she could hear the spirits, and she answered no, which led to him covering her eyes with his own hands and saying, in the smuggest tone ever, “There! Now it’s like they’re not even here”. He proceeded to tell her that she’s safe and these ghosts can’t do anything, as long as she doesn’t let them do anything. As long as she doesn’t let them stop her from doing things, as long as she remembers most ghosts were humans, she’ll always have the upper hand against this fear. That’s how Ghostie eventually conjures up the courage to look past the things she sees and to try to focus on the real world, without letting the dead get in the way of her living.

still speaking of Marik… after the final duel of Battle City, Ghostie directly forgives him for what he did, explaining that hearing everything from Ishizu made her understand his actions and that she’d probably react the same with what he’d been through. Marik tries to tell her that, while he’ll gladly take her forgiveness, he feels like he needs to earn it or actually gain it through something that isn’t pity. Ghostie takes him up on that, and tells him that he can “earn” it by being her friend. This is where the long distance shenanigans take place. Ghostie gets him to set up a MySpace page that is the most early 00s garbage you have ever seen, punk music and all. They send each other letters back and forth even though they could just message each other online, but they both secretly like having something physical written from the other. It makes it seem like some cheesy old love story. Ghostie tends to send him little accessories or knickknacks in her letters, and Marik sends random photographs or things he found to her. Ghostie occasionally gets Ryou to write little messages in her letters, so that’s how him and Marik got on more casual terms.

Two of Ghostie’s favorite items in her room are the Victorian Ghost Stories book Ryou bought her and this tamagotchi Marik sent her through the mail. Her favorite pair of socks are these black ones with little skulls on them that Anzu gifted her. She doesn’t play Duel Monsters all too often, but she knows how to play and has a halfway constructed fusion centered deck put together. Ghostie makes her friends mixtapes/burned CDs as little tokens of affection, and she made a ton for Marik when they first met in a “normal” setting so he could experience new genres. She has multiple CDs made for when she and Ryou are just laying around his apartment and want background noise. Ghostie usually bandages up whatever accidental cuts or injuries Ryou gives himself, whether it be something from Bakura’s shenanigans or him accidentally scraping himself when making figurines.

Lastly, the day after the Monster World incident, she made Ryou cookies and gave him a bracelet she made herself as a way of 1: apologizing and 2: letting him know they’re now officially friends. She got a few dirty looks from the other girls in the class, but she didn’t really mind after she saw that Ryou had put on the bracelet.

#WOO i DID IT #tempted to see how many times i said ghost throughout this #hope you enjoyed reading about this kinda odd gal :)#thank you for the questions!! helped me sort out some facts and stuff about her so that was fun #a lot of this is self indulgent but shhh it’s for funsies #s/i: ghostie #self ship #ask game answers #amy

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ghcstao3 · 4 months

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siren ghost and sailor soap?

sort of inspired by the pirates of the caribbean sirens scene because it’s one of my favourite things of that series. also i got a little carried away

Over the many, many years of traversing the Seven Seas for his life’s work, Soap has become intimately familiar with the abundant myths and legends about the ocean and what lies beneath.

Of course, most of these hold no truth. Most of these are only mere stories to quell the anxieties of sailors, or to provide reasoning to strange occurrences seemingly otherwise unexplainable.

Sirens are, unfortunately, the exception.

Ruthless, ravenous creatures—they’re the worst fear of any sailor who knows the worth of his own life, and like most things that make mortal men afraid, they’ve been transformed into weapons.

Soap only knows that sirens are real because of what happens to many prisoners at sea—from the brig they’re moved to rowboats without paddles, abandoned and forced to sing until the sirens appear to lure them into the water, where flesh would be torn from bone with razor sharp teeth.

It’s a terrifying sight. The creatures are like sharks called to blood with the way they appear, like piranhas with the way they feast.

It’s horrifying. Fascinating. And Soap has vowed to never let himself end up on one of those boats.

But alas. Fate has other plans for him.

Soap had been reluctant to join the crew of Captain Philip Graves when presented with the opportunity, but the pay promised had been good, the work simple, and the destination somewhere he’s never been.

But what Soap hadn’t realized is that Graves likes to take prisoners. He likes to engage in unfair combat with other ships, and operates almost like a pirate, though not explicitly enough to be considered one himself.

Soap realizes his mistake far too late when he wanders down to the brig one night, otherwise unable to sleep. They’re two weeks into their voyage by now, and Soap knows there’s people in the jail—but he hadn’t known the state of them.

Most already without a secure amount of food outside their makeshift cell, they’re emaciated, wasting away in the hull of the vessel. They’re barely responsive when Soap knocks on the bars of the hold and pokes someone’s damp shoulder. Someone weakly latches onto Soap’s sleeve and begs for nothing in particular, and he feels awful for not having known about this sooner.

So he begins sneaking them food, brings them drink. Squirrels away what extra he can without anyone noticing he’s stopped finishing his meals.

Except someone must notice. Because, nearing the end of their journey, Graves is waking him in the dead of night and pulling him into the Captain’s quarters.

Soap swallows the pounding heartbeat in his throat as Graves slowly crosses the room to take a seat at his desk. He’s never liked the man, not one bit—but this just feels unnecessary. Taunting.

“A little bird tells me you’ve been keeping our prisoners fed,” Graves drawls. “Even though, from what I recall, prisoners are the enemy. I don’t suppose you really have been helping them out, have you, MacTavish?”

It’s a trap, Soap knows. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell Graves’s question isn’t really a question at all. Graves has his answer, and waits on Soap’s response if only to entertain him with the idea of escape.

Soap knows just as well that there’s hardly a point in trying to lie.

He lifts his chin as he looks straight into Graves’s eyes to tell him, “I have been. They’re still people.”

Graves chuckles lowly, rising from his seat. He rounds the desk, sitting back on its edge with his arms folded across his chest.

It might be intimidating, if Soap were anyone else. If he were a lesser man.

“Well, then—since you like ‘em so much,” Graves says, “surely you won’t mind joining them.”

Soap supplies Graves with no visible reaction. He doesn’t fight as Graves calls for his men to throw Soap in the brig, doesn’t put up any fuss as they try to cajole him.

If Soap has to be imprisoned for doing what’s right, then he at least won’t let Graves have the satisfaction of knowing Soap’s internal panic.

Because Soap knows what Graves plans to do with his prisoners. He’s known all along.

He predicts they’re maybe a day from port when they’re shoved off the ship and ordered into the decaying rowboat, left to drift away—not too far, however, as they’re still tethered to the ship. Because once all prisoners have been drowned, the boat will be reeled back and used again the next time Graves and his crew venture out to terrorize the waters.

No one has the energy to sing, to lure their cruel punishment to them. Soap’s half-convinced some of the others might just jump into the water on their own.

But they have to sing. Especially when a bullet ricochets off the boat and splinters the wood as encouragement.

Despite his time spent out at sea, Soap isn’t overly familiar with many shanties. He just follows along with whatever is mumbled in a weak tune, dreading as the volume builds with a second bullet, and the water below begins to churn. Glancing over the edge, Soap swears he sees the flash of a tail.

The first one appears shortly, singing along to the song like she’s entirely familiar with the melody. Soap feels the pull, though perhaps not as strongly as he imagined he would, if ever he ended up in these circumstances.

He wonders, briefly and distantly, if it has to do with the fact that he’s not really all that into women.

Soap snorts. Wouldn’t that be something.

But as more sirens appear, the pull grows stronger. Soap begins to feel swayed by the song, gone from muttered and off-kilter to something beautiful, hypnotic. The boat bobs with the weight of their new company and the prisoners that rush to the sides to get a better look at the sirens as if they aren’t the dangerous creatures they’re known to be.

Still, though, Soap isn’t completely compelled to join them in the water. He stays put in the centre and grounds his teeth—though he does gasp and reach out when the first prisoner is pulled under, and red soon blossoms across the surface of the water.

Then he appears.

The whole world seems to disappear for just a moment, when Soap looks into big, brown eyes.

The siren’s voice is deeper than the rest, soothing, and though Soap’s hindbrain screams at him that hidden behind the enchanting exterior, the porcelain skin and the straw-blond hair, there lives evil—he can’t help but lean in.

As Soap gets closer, the boat continuing to rock as more prisoners fall victim, the siren’s singing pauses just long enough for him to offer Soap a smile, saccharine, close-lipped. He reaches out an arm to Soap, calloused fingers caressing Soap’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

Soap can’t help but melt into the touch, its simultaneous warmth and coolness, subconsciously chasing it as it retracts, eyes fluttering shut with a short, pleased sigh.

But with the singing fading from the others, Soap’s eyes suddenly snap open. The siren still holds him, still leads Soap with that gentle touch and deceptively kind gaze, but Soap resists. He doesn’t know when he’d gotten to leaning halfway over the edge of the boat, but he scrambles backward to the opposite side, as far as he can get from this siren.

Soap comes to the startling realization that he’s the only one left.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” the siren croons. He props himself up on the edge of the boat, arms thick with corded muscle to show the real power of this creature. He leans forward, the boat tilting with his added weight. “I don’t bite.”

Soap glances nervously about the empty rowboat, gaze accidentally straying the bloodstained waters that surround them.

“I beg to differ,” Soap says weakly.

The siren laughs softly before slowly sinking back into the water. The boat sways. Soap shakes.

Everything goes silent for a suspiciously long moment before there’s a disturbance in the water and the siren appears at the side of the boat where Soap has taken refuge. He’s singing quietly again and Soap feels that pull, so he moves away, screws his eyes shut, and jams his fingers in his ears in an attempt to block it out.

It doesn’t work, not when the singing gets louder, and Soap’s attempt is rendered useless.

“Shut up,” Soap growls. “Please just shut. Up.”

The singing does cease, though only to make way for a deep, full laughter that is somehow tugging on Soap’s conscience with more force than any melody so far.

When Soap blinks his eyes open, the siren is perched on the edge of the boat, arms splayed one on top of the other, his head resting over them. He’s smiling, even once his laughter has died down, a glint of something in his dark eyes—maybe not quite sinister, but certainly mischievous.

“They’re not letting you back on that ship, you know,” the siren says, as if it isn’t obvious. “So you can either come with me—“

“And what? Be drowned? Eaten?” Soap snaps. “Thanks, but I’d rather rot right here.”

“Suit yourself,” the siren hums.

To Soap’s surprise, he actually disappears back into the water. And despite the waves—the ocean seems to have finally calmed.

Maybe Soap did have the tiny, illogical hope that he’d be brought back to the ship. Maybe Soap did have the tiny, logical hope that this siren would just put him out of his misery.

Either way, now he just sits in silence, listening to waves lap up against the hull as the rowboat rocks lazily with the current. Though the peace surely only stretches on for a few minutes, it feels like hours.

Stupidly, Soap goes to inspect the depths. To make certain he’s really been left alone.

Because that’s when he’s pulled in.

Soap barely has time to yell out before his mouth is filled with the overwhelming, stinging taste of salt, unfamiliar arms wrapping securely around his frame so he can’t wriggle free. His shouts are muffled by the water, and he feels the cold soak into his bones as he’s dragged deeper and deeper. The light fades, or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen.

The last thing Soap sees is the siren’s grin, all fangs and malice before everything goes black.

But then, after an unknown amount of time—Soap wakes up to the slow drip, drip, drip of water on a stone floor.

He’s in a cave.

He’s in a cave, and there’s a light source somewhere, and the siren is watching him.

Soap coughs, clearing water from his lungs. He chokes out, “Why… what did you—“

The siren shrugs. “I don’t eat people I like.”

Soap frowns, still coughing. “You…”

“Call me Ghost,” the siren says, then dives into the pool he’d been wading in at the entrance of the cave, and swims away—long, elegant tail flicking behind him as he leaves.

And while many, many thought swirl around Soap’s head as he gradually gathers his bearings about the situation, the clearest of them all is also the simplest; what the hell kind of a name is Ghost?

If only he could guess.

And if only he could know what’s meant to happen to him next.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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sleepingelvhen · 4 months

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Sleeping Spider Lily Pt. 2

Blade/Reader NSFW Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- [🌹Part 4🌹] Minors DO NOT interact MASTERLIST Your world was turned upside down when you discovered the love of your life was alive and a completely different person. Now, you need answers, even if it was risky.

Nighttime on the Luofu was the most peaceful. For you, at least. Not many enjoyed strolling the less patrolled streets as you did, the mara-struck a blight upon the planet-ship that kept most everyone away. It made things easier for you; the further you strayed from civilization, the fewer guards there were, and the less likely you were to get reported to Jing Yuan for completely going against his request.

Maybe your logic was slightly skewed from the complete lack of sleep that muddled your logical thinking. Possibly also combined with the questions that consumed your mind. Questions only Blade would be able to answer if he was willing. If this reckless plan went wrong however…well, it’s been a while since you’ve sparred with someone.

Slipping through the shadows, you avoided another group of guards within Stargazer Navalia. Hood up to cloak your face, a deep breath to calm your nerves, and a moment to take control of a docked starskiff, soon you were flying through the Luofu, guiding your way to the only place you believed Blade would hide out.

The one place you haven’t been to in a few hundred years now.

Complicated machinery was quickly replaced by sand and the ripples of waves. A reminder of where the races of the Luofu came from before their home developed to soaring through space.

It was a familiar sensation when your feet sunk into the thin beach sand, a wave of nostalgia in your heart making you feel so lightweight it felt for a moment you were floating.

He was here, he had to be. It was like a second sense, something you once believed was a supernatural connection you had had with him. A bond that connected the two of you so that you would always know he was near. Part of you wanted to believe it to be true, but if you had gone this long not knowing he was even alive…well love makes you delusional.

Scalegorge Waterscape was beautiful enough to cause your eyes to water a bit as you approached the main entrance. Memories of friends…family…a love you had lost…they all appeared as ghosts in your mind now drowned by the now risen sea levels. Only a part of it still really existed, a platform with a statue depicting the Imbibitor Lunae, another friend you had lost all those years ago.

Eyes fixated on the statue, it took you a moment to really notice that you weren’t alone. You felt his presence, knew he was there. But a part of you didn’t want to look, scared to really face the reality of the situation.

“He must face his betrayal,” his darkened voice pulled you from your mind. A bit of a reminiscent tone within words that he attempted to make sound completely careless. “No one can run from a price to be paid.”

You finally turned to look at him. Surprisingly, he looked quite peaceful here, eyes staring up into the statue of Dan Feng. You thought you saw a flash of sadness in his eyes, maybe a bit of hope that he could return to the past. Or maybe that was just a bit of your own hope peaking through.

“Why have you come here?” Red eyes met your own then, you hadn’t even noticed he had turned to acknowledge your presence. Just like before, eyes filled with disdain and a desire to kill. But it was just what he was, it seemed. There was no desire in him to attack you, there was no intent to kill you. He was simply filled with bloodlust and it caused a shiver to climb up your spine.

“I…” your voice caught in your mouth. “I need answers.”

“Don’t we all?” He looked away from you again, eyes fixated upon the stretching ocean. You followed his gaze there, reminded of how this place used to look. Once filled with life, now beneath languid waves. Just a reminder of what you both had lost.

“Do you…remember me?” It was the only thing you could really think to ask. While it sounded so simple coming from you, it was just…the only thing that left the fog of your chaos-filled brain.

Blade huffed, almost a laugh. Aeons have you missed that. Blade never had a loud laugh like many, it was always cocky and short. One thing you had loved about him. Something that made your heart pang when you heard it again.

“I remember you…” His voice softened, eyes closed, refusing to turn to face you. “You seem to have changed.”

You gritted your teeth then and clenched your fists. With a deep breath, you walked forward, joining him where he stood. The silence was louder than the waves, louder than the crunching sand beneath your feet.

“We both have.”

Blade dipped his head in agreement, no reaction to you moving next to him. He didn’t move away, didn’t step closer, just stood there, staring out at the sea. You closed your eyes, trying to enjoy this for a moment, pretending it was like old times. The man beside you was Yingxing, and you were his lover. Standing upon Scalegorge Waterscape, simply reveling in the silence and one another’s company.

Back then, you would gently take his hand in yours and he would squeeze it to tell you he was there and would always be there. Back then, he would tell you about his day and about the ways he was improving in his craft. Or maybe he would show you a sword he was proud of. You thought fondly of the day he showed you Shard Sword, proud upon its flawless creation. The smile upon his face was one you had tucked away into your memories, so vivid you could look at it whenever you pleased.

“You came here seeking answers,” the growl in his voice pulled you away from your thoughts, your eyes opening, your head turning to see him staring down at you intensely. “Ask your questions.”

He had blue eyes once, you remembered. But the red, it was entrancing and almost suited him better than the blue. Despite all the changes he still looked like himself, still looked so gorgeous. It was always so easy to get lost in his eyes, so easy to search for the feelings he kept hidden. You saw it there, a subtle flash of vulnerability. Eyes awash with affection.

“How are you alive?” You watched as his mood fell a bit, his brows lowering, a sharp intake of breath hinting at something painful inside.

“The mara,” he simply said, unsheathing his sword, Shard Sword, and gliding his fingers against the golden marbling of its perfection. He hummed in consideration, nicking the pads of his index and middle finger, blood dripping down onto the blade, then onto the ground beneath him. Then, you watched wide-eyed as the deep cuts glowed and healed in simply a few seconds. Blade closed his eyes and sighed. “I pay my price in blood…and endless life.”

“Yingxing—Blade…” You stumbled over your words, correcting the name when you saw him turn his head away from you upon hearing his old name. He sheathed his sword, clenching the fist that he had previously cut.

“I left as I was cursed. Determined to die. Instead I became this. Immortal. Mara-struck. A blade to be used." His explanation made you understand truly what had happened. His allegiance with Dan Feng, his betrayal of the Luofu. Yes, they had found immortality in their search to revive their friend, but he was living proof of what that did to a short-life species.

“You have your answers.”

But you didn’t leave, you just stared at him, tears in your eyes. You were exhausted, heart-broken, and…still absolutely in love with this man despite who he had become. A criminal, betrayer of the Luofu, ally to the Stellaron Hunters, and the love of your life.

He took a sharp breath when he saw you staring, eyes darkening as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side, watching you carefully.

“Your general would not be pleased if he discovered you here,” his voice was low and breathy, as if he was whispering.

“Jing Yuan would understand,” you simply said, unable to take your eyes away from him.

“Hm,” Blade turned his head, gaze still fixated upon your face. The noise he made sounded like a growl, or a huff of irritation. He used to do that when Jing Yuan would get too close to you, too friendly. A dusting of pink colored your cheeks as you looked down at your feet.

“I missed you…you know. Every day.”

Blade didn’t answer you. Instead, two fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, flickering with something that looked all too familiar. Intrigue, affection, and hesitance.

“Every day?” He asked, his voice husky.

“Every day,” you answered, your own voice growing warm and soft.

You swore you saw a ghost of a smirk grace his face, a glimmer of his arrogance.

“Hm…you are tired,” Blade pulled his fingers away slowly, the feeling of his touch lingering on your jaw. A soft gasp left your lips when he leaned in close, his lips against the shell of your ear, his whisper breathing a warm breath against your skin. “Go sleep, little dove. You will see me soon.”

He took your hand in his, his fingers slipping a piece of paper into your now weakened grip. As soon as he had been so close to you, he was walking away, hands behind his back as he regarded his environment.

You wanted to stay, taking a step forward to reach for Blade before you stopped and bit your lip. He was right, you were on the verge of falling asleep right here right now. And nighttime was almost over. You fought the urge to stay, and left the Waterscape, gliding back home on the stolen starskiff.

Once back in your room, you slipped into your sleeping clothes, sitting on the edge of your bed with the paper in hand. It was soft against your fingers, making your mind reel as you wondered what was within. Hesitance didn’t stop you as you opened the small slip of paper, revealing the message Blade had given you.

An address and a meeting time. He was hiding within a small building. Right here in the Divination Commission.

#blade x reader #blade hsr #blade smut #reader insert #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #yingxing #yingxing x reader

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hmslusitania · 10 days

Note

Hello! Long time lurker (I mean follower), I have been inspired by your recent bat family fics to get learn more about that universe but don't know where to start! I was wondering if you had a place to start?

Hello! Thank you for asking! I definitely have an answer, but I don’t know if it’s a universal answer so we’ll see!

Batfam Et Al are part of what I would call a “supermedia” (there’s probably a proper media term for it but I don’t know it) by which I mean: it exists in basically any form of media you could want, be it the original comics, animated series, live action series, live action movies, animated movies, books, video games, and — I presume — antique radio dramas. Getting involved in that is super daunting and understandably so.

The best advice I can offer for breaking in is to figure out what type of media works best for you, and then start there. (Other people reading this who might be diehards, I am about to name check three pieces of media that tend to get heavily side-eyed by comics purists but which I think are all very beginner-friendly, so look away)

For me, the form of media that tends to give me the most effective brain worms is video games. Although I had already started my DC entry somewhat against my will, the thing that actually fully dragged me into caring intensely about the Batfam was Gotham Knights, which lets you spend intense amounts of time with Gotham as a nightmare city, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake.

If you’re not so much into video games, the first thing in the non-Arrowverse/non-Nolanverse/non-Snyderverse DC world I spent time with was the animated Young Justice series. It does not have a focus on the Batfam in particular, but they do all make appearances at one point or another. It also has the benefit of introducing you to bunches of other characters within the DC universe, and even if some of those characterisations differ largely from their standard characterisation in other media (Kon), it does give you a good faces-to-names-to-soundbytes introduction to quite a broad yearbook of folks.

If your interest in particular is the Batfam, honestly the easiest way to get a toehold on that group is Wayne Family Adventures on webtoon. It is free to read and it’s fun and even though it does tend to actually resolve these conflicts and tensions unlike the prime universe comics, it does a decent job of naming what a lot of the interpersonal conflicts and tensions between the characters are so you can get a sense.

At which point we reach step two of “how to get involved with a supermedia” which is to identify a particular character (or two, or three) you can become unwell about, and then dig in to see what media is available for them. And as you consume said media, their adjacent characters will also clarify and you may find yourself becoming invested in them, at which point you may dig in and find more about them, and rinse and repeat.

The other thing I find particularly helpful to think about as I continue on my expedition into the jungles here (extended DC canon iterations) is that Batman (and Superman, and Wonder Woman) has existed as a character for nearly 100 years. By this point, they are all so entrenched in the cultural landscape that they are basically American folklore. And as with folklore, everyone and their mother has their own localised version of it, and they’re all correct.

#I feel like I’m gonna be pilloried for this but maybe if I don’t tag it #the ghost ship answers questions #dannibriere

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flamingpudding · 6 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 15 - "Fine explain it to me."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight shipping but can be seen as platonic too

A/N: Just wanted to mention that I usually am more of a found family themed dpxdc writer but this was a self runner once I started writing until I realised that this could be seen as a ship.

Danny sipped on the champain, he was drinking leaning against the wall. Next to him, also leaning against the wall with crossed arms was Dan glaring at everyone that even remotely tried to approach them. Dani had disappeared into the crowds and Danny was convinced that she had made her way to the buffet table and had found a hiding place with whatever food she had piled up high on a plate. He had seen her do that before.

"How long do these things go?" Dan asked, glaring at someone specifically, Danny knew was a business partner of the fruitloop.

"A couple of hours, usually fruitloop lets us leave around 8 pm." Danny answered easily, surveying the area for any familiar face he might recognize despite knowing he wouldn't. Sam's family wasn't attending this gala and any face he could recognize was probably a business partner of Vlad or someone he had seen on a magazine cover.

"Dile back your glare. Your eyes are glowing red." He offhandedly mentioned to his time-clone-twin taking another sip. Dan only growled at him and looked stubbornly away, though his eyes lost the red color and turned back to a blue.

"How do you and Dani do this shit?"

Danny hummed, museing how things had changed over the past couple of years since Dani and him started to attend these Galas Vlad made them go too. "I hated it at first too. But you weren't socialized enough to attend and Dani used to flat out refuse but we got used to it and found our tactics on how to handle it. Dani usually raids the buffet and finds a hiding place, I just hang with Sam if she is here."

"But she is not." Dan growled, now glaring at a rich kid that had looked like it wanted to approach them but wisely decided to turn tail at Dan's glare. "These stuck up kids are trying to mock us aren't they?"

"Yup." Danny popped the p. "We could always ghost the fruitloop though."

"And have to listen to him lecturing us later? No thanks." Dan's eyes went over the people at this place. He saw Vlad talking to someone he was pretty sure had been on the cover of some tech magazine before but then his eyes stopped on a guy with black hair and blue eyes looking only slightly older than them that was staring at them very intensely.

Dan rammed his elbow into Danny's side, causing the other to wheeze and nearly drop the glass he was holding. The one he had spotted was now on his way to approach them and Dan narrowed his eyes. "You know that guy?"

Danny once he caught his breath again looked up and his eyes widened with recognition. "Shit!"

But before Dan could question the other about that guy, who was now speed walking with a business smile towards them, Danny grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him along with him. "We need to go, like right now."

Dan dragging his feed and making Danny literally drag him along only looked at his phone arching an eyebrow mockingly. "It's not 8 pm yet."

"Text the fruitloop. We are going-"

"Danny, what a pleasure to see you here, I didn't know you attended galas like this." Danny got cut off by the same guy Dan had spotted watching them. He hadn't seen how but somehow that guy had managed to cross the hall before them and block Danny's exit.

Dan heard Danny mutter a distinctive "fuck" before letting go of his elbow and smiling at the guy nervously. "Dick. What a surprise. I didn't know you would be here."

"Dick?" Dan repeated with an arched eyebrow but Danny swiftly stepped on his foot.

"Well Bruce thought it was about time again I attended one of the Galas with him again. You know how it is, don't you?" There was a glint in the other's eyes and Dan eyed him interested, the guy had some dirt on Danny. This was going to be interesting.

"Ah well yea, Vlad asked for me to come along too and someone got to represent my late parents too after all." Danny laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly avoiding direct eye contact.

"Represent your late parents?"

"Yea funny thing, my parents willed their company to me and-"

"I thought you said you were an engineer working for Dalv.Co? To think I told you about how I am with the Waynes and yet you never mentioned even once to me your relation to Masters." Dan blinked, okay so that guy was a friend Danny had made somehow outside of Sam and Tucker.

"I do! I do, it's just that… well... I can explain!"

"Fine, explain it to me."

Danny appeared to be a flustered mess while this Dick was staring at him with crossed arms. Dan watched them with fascination and a small amount of satisfaction at how Danny fumbled with his words. He then felt a tuck at his side and locked down to find Dani offering him popcorn.

"That's Dick Greyson." Something suddenly clicked for Dan and he smirked down at Dani.

"The guy that's teaching your Gymnastic course that Danny always volunteers to take you too?"

Dani nodded once more and now also sporting a mischievous smile.

#fictober23 #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #crossover #dick grayson #dan phantom #dani phantom #vlad master #Danny might have a crush on Dick #He meet him through Dani's gymnastics course Dick is voluntary teaching #They do not know about each others secret identities #Danny forgot that Dick was a Wayne and can appear at galas too #He had kept his relation to Vlad a secret

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dfortrafalgar · 1 month

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Chilly

Convincing Law to take a break for one day is like talking to a concrete wall. Good thing you have the personality of a jackhammer.

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, snow day, domestic bliss, just fun and fluffy all around, snowball fights with the heart pirates, soft law <3

Also posted on AO3

No one even bothered to ask Law if he wanted to join the crew on land and partake in some relaxing winter activities. Everyone knew what the answer would be: a stern, pensive stare and a quick, firm, “Absolutely not.” Especially not when the aforementioned winter weather sprung up completely out of nowhere, while the Polar Tang was moored at an unassuming island tucked away behind a seaside cliff. It was warm and pleasant the day before, so waking up to a deep blanket of snow on land completely ruined Law’s plans. Heart Pirate Rule #283 (estimates vary), no one could try to change Law’s mind about an activity when his prior commitments were already ruined.

When Law opened the heavy door to his office and stepped into the hallway, he was met with an unsurprising, deathly silence. Through one of the small portholes in the hull of the submarine, he could spot a few of his crew engaged in a very intense snowball fight. The captain’s piercing gold eyes locked onto Uni the second he took a rock-filled snowball directly to the face. With a ‘tsk’ through his teeth, he made his way to the galley for another cup of coffee. He assumed the entire ship was empty, and was caught by surprise at the sight of you standing at the wash basin in the kitchen with your hands under a steady stream of warm water from the tap. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of Law’s footsteps entering the room.

“Hi, baby!” you called. Law could barely see your face from the angle you were standing at, but he could hear the bright smile that accompanied your words. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Law learned early in your relationship that it was futile to fight the content grin that crawled over his lips whenever he heard the sound of your voice. He meandered over to you, planting a chaste kiss into your hair. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

It was easy to pick up on the gruff tone of his tired voice. “I’m sorry, Law. I know it’s annoying for you when things happen so suddenly.”

Your sympathetic words brought mild relief to the stress filling Law’s aching head. As he started the electric coffee pot on the nearby countertop, he finally glanced over to see your hands under the sink faucet. A deep gash in the palm of your left hand was slowly leaking blood as you washed it. The tips of your fingers looked dry.

“What happened?” he immediately questioned, abandoning his coffee and stepping back toward you. He grabbed a few paper towels from a drawer, reaching over you to turn off the tap and grabbed your hands in his, gently applying pressure to your wound.

You grinned at his actions, but your eyebrows were knit together apologetically. “It’s nothing major, I was stupid and went outside without gloves on. I cut my hand on a rock trying to catch a snowball.”

Law’s medical instincts had completely taken over as he sat you down at the galley dining table, locating one of the many first aid boxes that were located around the submarine before returning to your side, kneeling at your feet and beginning to patch up your wound with antiseptic and a gauze wrap. “Leave it to those idiots to stuff rocks into snowballs. That’s how people lose their eyes.” He blew out an annoyed huff through his nostrils.

Your unoccupied hand reached forward to card your fingers through his tangled black locks of hair. “It’s stupid, but we’re pirates. Pirates do stupid things sometimes, don’t you think?”

Your boyfriend’s fingers lingered over your bandaged hand, ghosting across your palm before falling to his sides to pack up the first aid bin and return it to its original location. “I suppose you have a point.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you watched Law move around the galley, ditching the first aid box and returning to the faucet, peering into the sink to make sure there was no residual blood that might have splashed into the basin. He gave it a quick wipe-down out of precaution, before finally walking back to the electric coffee pot to load the reservoir with ground beans from a large plastic container. A smile danced over your lips watching his movements, reveling in the domestic bliss that rare moments like this provided.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” you began.

“You probably know what I’m going to say,” he responded, picking up on your thoughts before they even left your mouth.

You sighed. “I know.”

Law turned his back to the coffee pot as he waited for the water to boil, leaning back against the counter to face you. His steely eyes softened at your saddened expression.

“I just think it would be fun to have you join us. How often do we get days to… I don’t know… have fun? To relax?” You knew your words would have little power against the man before you, given how routine-oriented and strict he kept his daily life. Even in a comfortable, romantic relationship with you, he still kept to his regular way of living, and very little could change that.

“Days like this set back projects by a mile,” Law muttered under his breath. “It would be a waste of time for me to go outside in the cold and watch my crew lob rocks at each other.”

You bit your lip slightly as your mind raced for any way to convince your beloved to drop his duties for one single day and instead try to enjoy himself in the company of his crew, his friends and family. “What if I help you later? What if you delegate tasks later this evening to everyone to lighten your load? What if–”

“Darling…”

“Law, I’m being serious! Everyone hates it when you keep yourself cramped in your room hunched over paperwork all day… I hate it! I don’t like seeing you stressed, and I know delays are frustrating but we’re pirates for crying out loud! You have the freedom to drop your responsibilities for even a few minutes and relax.” Your own voice raised ever so slightly in volume.

That word, the ‘F’ word, clearly had an effect on Law, given the way his shoulders stiffened. The only sound that followed your pleas was the gurgling of the coffee machine on the counter. His arms were crossed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he stared back at you. You held eye contact with his intense glare, not backing down from your request. The two demons that sat on Law’s shoulder were having an all-out war with each other; one desperately begged for the cold captain to loosen up and enjoy himself, spend time with you and his crew, while the other told him he would be better off in his office, solitary, sipping on bitter coffee and scrawling chicken scratch into his log book.

Your eyes widened by a mere millimeter when you saw Law’s golden irises dart towards the porthole in the galley before instantly going back to you.

“I promise I’ll wear gloves,” you offered, your last remaining ammunition in this fleeting war of the mind.

A smirk cracked onto Law’s lips. “You win.”

“What?”

“You win. I’ll come outside with you.”

You launched to your feet, eyes wide with excitement. “You will?!”

“Yeah.”

Law’s arms were ready to embrace you as you skipped toward him, boots leaving wet puddles across the metal floor in your wake as you threw your arms around his neck, angelic laughter leaving your throat as you thanked him for nothing in particular. He squeezed your waist and gazed at you as you pulled away, eyes full of nothing but adoration for your happiness at such a miniscule agreement.

“Coffee can wait,” you demanded, linking your unbandaged hand with his and dragging him toward the ladder well to the top deck. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait,” Law tugged on your arm. “Gloves.”

You grumbled as you dug through a storage container filled with the crew’s seasonal accessories, pushing aside tacky hats and a few pairs of swimming goggles before producing a pair of insulated brown gloves. They were smudged with dry oil and smelled akin to death, but you pulled them into your hands anyway, taking care to avoid pulling on your bandages. Law pulled on his own jacket and gloves, changing out his shoes for a pair of heavier boots before following you up the ladder, onto the top deck, and out the main door into the cold, gray afternoon. He obediently followed your heels as you bounded down the gangway, heavy steps alerting your crewmates to your return.

“Captain! You’re alive!” Shachi called out, waving his hands in the air.

“How the hell did you manage to convince him to come outside?” Hakugan leaned over to you, exasperated judging by the sound of his voice.

Law had barely stepped foot into the layer of deep snow before he was tackled by a warm stone wall of white fur and an orange boiler suit. His hands reflexively landed on Bepo’s shoulders, trying to steady the two of them before the human man would topple to the ground.

“Captain! I’m so happy you’re joining us! I’m building a snowbear, you need to help me!” Bepo was rubbing his face into the side of Law’s head, leaving tufts of white fur behind that clung to the man’s black hair and feather-lined coat.

Their tender embrace was interrupted by a thud as a snowball planted itself behind Bepo’s head. The bear released Law from his vice-like grip and whirled around, not hesitating when he dipped down, scooped a generous mound of snow from the ground, molded it into a ball with his large paws, and reeled his arm back to return fire to the first person he laid eyes on.

Clione was the victim, taking the huge snowball to the groin as it arched through the thin air and landed with precision and a comedic, dense smack. The blonde doubled over with a pained grunt.

It didn’t take long for the fight to resume in full force, bald spots of snow being left in the ground as greedy hands scooped up larger and larger mounds of the frozen water to chuck at each other. Law’s eyes gazed between each member of his crew, before landing on Penguin who secretly pulled a rock out from his pocket, shoving it into the snowball he held in his gloved hand.

With a split second flash of blue light and a barely audible whisper from the captain, the snowball previously held by Penguin was now clutched in Law’s hand. The black-haired man reeled his arm back, throwing all of his energy into launching the snowball across the field toward Penguin, who took the blow to the chest. The surprise caused him to stumble backwards, falling onto his ass and leaving a plume of snow to puff around him with the impact. The Heart Pirates watched in awe as a mischievous smirk slowly appeared on Law’s mouth.

“No fair! You have a devil fruit advantage!” someone’s voice shouted from across the snow-covered field.

“And? You’ve sailed with me for long enough, use your head.”

Law leaned down to gather another mound of snow in his hands, eyes landing on you. As he motioned to lob the object in your direction, another snowball planted against his bicep, halting his movements. Ikkaku stood opposite him, an equally bright smile on her face as she shouted at you to return fire. He barely had time to look back at you when he was met with white powder directly to the face. He blindly threw his own snowball towards where you stood, grinning when he was met with the sound of your surprised yelp. He wiped the freeze from his face just in time for Ikkaku to awkwardly sprint through the deep snow toward where you lay on the ground, hollering that you were hit. You tossed a thumbs up into the air before letting your arm fall back down, laughing with Ikkaku over your sorry state.

More snowballs, some containing rocks and some without, continued to pelt against Law, who returned them with enthusiastic movement and a devilish grin. He tossed a glance over toward you, face flushing when he found his stare returned, a beautiful, relaxed smile dancing over your face.

—

Law yanked a damp towel off of his head, freeing his wet hair to the air of his room. A shiver went up his spine at the sensation of cold hair against the back of his neck. The sight made you laugh from where you sat on his bed, bundled in one of his sweatshirts that you had pulled over your knees, leaving only your sock feet visible.

He pulled a pair of ratty sweatpants over his legs before crawling on top of the bed with you, pulling you down by your shoulder into his chest. “I’m cold because of you,” he complained.

“And now you can be warm because of me!” you replied, voice light and airy as you snaked your arms around his waist and forced one of your legs in between his. A tangle of limbs lay on his mattress.

Law’s fingers played with the tips of your hair as he stared across his room at nothing.

“Thank you.” Your voice shook the man from his thoughts.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you came outside with me today. Everyone had so much fun… it was nice.”

The tenderness of your tone pulled at Law’s heartstrings. It had never occurred to him until then how much his absence might have affected his crew, affected you, and so negatively at that. He had never seen his crew laugh as a collective until then, throwing snow before getting tired and resorting to building snow creatures or leaving imprints of their bodies in the plush, white freeze. Law even left one of his own, directly next to yours. The two images were connected where your hands would be, to remain there until the snow inevitably melted.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he mumbled into the crown of your head.

You giggled into his neck. “I love you.”

Law inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eyes at the sound of your words. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, thoughts running rampant through his head. You weren’t expecting a response, he very rarely said those three words back to you, choosing instead to spoil you with his physical affection instead.

“I love you, too.”

#trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #law oneshot

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burntheedges · 9 days

Text

600 Followers Celebration

Y’all!! This is wild. I realized the other day that I started writing my first fic in my notes app on my phone on 4/11/23. I posted the first chapter of that fic in July last year! I am so grateful for each and every one of you. I get so emotional every time someone reads one of my fics. Thank you for being here and being amazing. And I’m so glad you all like fandom bingo (which is still open)!! 🧡🧡🧡

I wanted to do something fun to celebrate. There are two parts -- vote and ask! I'll tag every post for this celebration with #bte600.

💗 VOTE: vote on the poll under the cut!! A week or so ago I did an ask game where people sent me made up fic titles and I told you what I would write for them. Well, I got a little carried away and came up with some ideas I'm actually pretty excited about. So now I want you to vote on which one I should actually write next! The poll will be open for a week.

🧡 ASK: Send me any of the emojis below – send me as many as you’d like! But please send one at a time.

❣️shout out Spread the love around and tell me about a fic, author, fan art, or artist on here that you love!

📜fic rec Give me a fandom and a direction and I’ll give you a fic rec. I’ve got more than 9000 bookmarks on ao3 lol bet I can find something! let me know preferences about ships, ratings, content, etc.

(fandoms I’ve read a lot in over the years: all the Pedro boys, Inception (Arthur/Eames), Captive Prince, LOTR/Hobbit, MCU, X-Men, 00Q, Star Trek (various ships), Mass Effect, The Raven Cycle (pynch), Teen Wolf (lol), Stranger Things, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Check Please!, The Witcher, The Sandman, Sherlock, Stargate Atlantis, RWRB, Merlin, ATLA… and more?)

❓question Send me any question, FMK, ask about a headcanon, ask about one of my fics, how I write, ask for commentary on a scene or line, whatever you’d like – I’ll answer it!

Remember, 💗 vote on the poll under the cut!!

Let's vote! Which one of these ideas should I work on next? (see more about each at the link) I had to cut one so I cut one of the Frankie ones that was very similar to something I just wrote.

🧡🧡🧡 thanks for being here!

tagging some mutuals for funzies:

@katareyoudrilling @beardedjoel @maggiemayhemnj @goodwithcheese @djarins-cyare

@jupiter-soups @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @morallyinept @trulybetty

@gasolinerainbowpuddles @huffle-punk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jay-zzle @sheepdogchick3

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yelena-bellova · 8 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

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