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baodurs · 3 years

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i filled out this super cool button character profile by @extraordinarymage for sabrina! thank you for making this, it was a lot of fun to fill out <3 the bulk of it is under a cut and oh boy is it long !!!

Short, Quick Reference

Name: Sabrina Wiseman

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Love Interest: Kent

Main personality trait: Confidence

Secondary personality trait: Morbidity

Relationship with Nick: Full of love, haunted by unaddressed guilt and frustration. But mostly full of love.

Nickname for Nick: Saint Nick (used sparingly)

Resentful or accepting?: Slightly resentful

Main strategy (interpersonal, insightful, innovative?): Insightful

Ethical or expedient?: Expedient

GENERAL

Name: Sabrina Larkspur Wiseman

Nickname(s): Sab, used by anyone; Sabby, only Nick and Sally; and, of course, Button for Nick.

Birthday: I think I made her an October Libra for the purpose of a template I did months ago, but I’m not sure! No concrete birthday yet, I’m always very slow to nail down details like this.

Age: 20

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Hair color + style: Blonde. A little past shoulder length, sometimes wavy. Usually a middle part. For Aeon, tied back in a bun.

Eye color: Blue, entirely because of the section of Frank O’Hara’s “Meditations in an Emergency” that goes, “My eyes are vague blue, like the sky...”

Height: 5′5

Piercings: Multiple in each ear, but a couple have started to close.

Tattoos: None yet! Sab likes the idea of a tattoo but is worried about finding the perfect design, whether she’d end up hating it, that the pain might be greater than she expects and she’ll look like a baby in front of her tattoo artist. I’d like to think she eventually consults Sally and/or Glitch to come up with an idea that she falls in love with, but I haven’t come up with what that would be!

Clothing style: Mostly solid colors, not a lot of patterns. Nothing super bright, but a fairly varied mix of pastels, neutrals, dark colors, black. Partial to denim skirts and sweater tops. Ankle boots. Likes a good turtleneck. She’s bolder when it comes to formal wear, and especially loves suits. Big fan of silk and satin.

Since she has a pretty accurate face claim, I’ll link some gifsets I’ve rb’d for appearance ref if you are so inclined.

STATS

I’m always adjusting minor things and swapping scenes around, but these are from my most recent Sab run! Most scores hover somewhere around these values.

Personality:

Confidence: 53%

Humor: 5%

Morbidity: 22%

Resentful: 57% | Accepting: 43%

Strategy:

Interpersonal: 12%

Insightful: 50%

Innovative: 10%

Ethical: 43% | Expedient: 57%

KEY DECISIONS:

What is Nick’s nickname and why?: Saint Nick, used very rarely. It’s a joking reference to the time she thought Santa was an evil Ment out to ruin Christmas, and a point about Nick overdoing it with the cheer. “Saint Nick” is usually code for “I know you mean well, but please mind your own business.” Otherwise, she just calls him Nick.

What is their favorite type of cookie (and its name and why?): Salted caramel chocolate chip! No special name.

What was their initial reaction to Sally hugging them, as kids?: She just froze. That could just be me projecting adult Sabrina onto her childhood self; I don’t imagine that she was as uncomfortable around strangers or quite as cautious back then. But that’s what I’ll stick with.

How did they ace the ASE test?: The in-game option she takes is “My entire life has revolved around strategic avoidance,” but the one about being just plain smart also sounds like her. If Sab has the chance to thoroughly (over)prepare for something, she will do it. Her mind blindness also has her constantly (over)analyzing situations. So, hard work and relentless anxiety!

Did they manage to win their first assignment? How?: Yes, by having Sally block the door. I’ve headcanoned some slight differences in how it plays out, which I wrote about in-depth here. To summarize, Sab thinks of blocking the door as a desperate last resort, not a clever loophole, and she pushes back against Rosy’s praise because she wishes she could have done it the “real” way. Rosy goes from being impressed to being annoyed that she’s willfully missing the point.

What was the primary emotion Button felt during the Aeon bombing (love, gratitude, etc?): Guilt. She feels very guilty about how much Nick has given up for her in general, but I think that in the moment, it’s on a smaller scale. The fact that Nick was on the phone with her when it happened, coming to her rescue like always, becomes emblematic of their whole relationship for her, and she really fixates on that.

Who drove them home from the hospital from and why?: Glitch. Sab responds to her initial text with “Are you sure?”, and is relieved when Glitch takes that as “Yes, please.” She doesn’t relish the idea of being around someone more connected to her family or Nick at that point.

How do they feel about Nick riding around in their mind?: Worried, at first. Just because it’s so unknown and absolutely insane. After seeing Doctor Amari, she’s excited! Sab is thrilled to be a Pollard Five and intends to take full advantage of it. I am not looking forward to seeing how she reacts when that’s taken away from her.

Why did Button agree to do the undercover mission?: To prove she still deserves to be an MIV. Sabrina feels stupid and reckless for putting herself, Nick, and Aeon in this position, but she knows she’s smart, and she hasn’t worked this hard for nothing. She wants to prove what she could do with a normal Pollard Score and make herself too valuable to give up even when she’s back to Zero.

Told Glitch about your mind blindness?: Depends on the playthrough. I’m constantly going back and forth on whether Sab meets Glitch for coffee or wanders the city with Nick in her second chapter 5 slot (after trying to track down Kent). If she does meet Glitch, though, she absolutely tells her; with how touchy Sab is about privacy, she couldn’t stomach not warning Glitch that Nick could hear everything they said.

Figured out K’s secret?: Nope. She finds enough of the clues to be given the “I knew it!” option in-game, but she didn’t actually put it together. Sab is too angry and embarrassed by learning that Kent is an AMO to find any reason to interrogate it. “The random guy I met before school just happens to be a jerk” is a perfectly sound explanation to her.

Found Noh’s clues?: Not at the metro station. Sometimes she sees the Vengeance brooms in chapter 5 (again, depending on the playthrough), but that’s it.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP:

Love Interest: Kent

Why them?: Sab feels an immediate kinship with Kent after learning about the NPO program. It’s kind of funny how quickly he moves from the least sympathetic position in her eyes (Ment who got past me and read my mind without my knowledge) to the most sympathetic (non-powered child of a prominent family aiming a league above where he “belongs”). A lot of new respect for his competence. Her fate is sealed when she realizes that his kindness at the hospital wasn’t him trying to make up for some wrongdoing, but just him being very sweet. (She had scoffed over “You needed help.” But now she’s like, “Oh. He meant that?! Fuck.”)

As they spend more time together, Sab realizes how weirdly similar they are in other ways, too. And she starts to feel safe/secure around him in a way that she’s extremely not used to. Growing up surrounded by Ments, Sab has a lot of issues about being too much, too difficult, needing to “be worthy” of love. So someone like Kent who is not a Ment, who has no “obligation” to care about her, and whose judgement she trusts implicitly? Being around him and being loved by him mean a lot, and I think will go a long way towards helping her reflect on her other relationships!

What are their first impressions of each other?: Okay, there are like 3 first impressions with Kent. First: he’s tall and handsome and secretly adorable, and they have similar career goals, so she’s drafting a five-month plan to woo him and get his number. Second: he’s a lying, self-obsessed loser who owes her many explanations. Third: oh no, the first impression was true! And he’s been continually, selflessly kind to her in spite of her overt hostility. Scratch the five-month plan, because the crush was only fun when it was entirely superficial; now she really, really likes him and that just sucks.

We know that Button makes a good impression on K by stopping for their dogs, but apart from that... I mean, the “we confused each other” from chapter 7 is very apt. Sab has lots of shifting personas, and Kent sees pretty much every one within 24 hours. The prevailing impression before everything gets cleared up is probably just that she cares a lot? About everything? Her stopping for the dogs, how seriously she takes the first assignment, the way she seems so deeply affected by something he said or did that morning. It’s a rare side of her to meet first because she usually pretends to be above everything.

What feature does your Button find most attractive in their RO (ex. appearance, personality, etc.)?: Probably his composure. And his... steadfastness? The way he seems unruffled by anything, his soothing presence. She really admires that about him and finds the calm contagious.

What do they do to spend time together?: Going on drives together! Kent driving while Sab plays songs she thinks he’ll like, talking or not talking. Cuddling on the couch while reading their own separate books. Museum dates. Walking the dogs together.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: I imagine that the first month or so of their relationship would be difficult, just because they’re both bad at expressing themselves and not used to relying on other people. Kent kind of negates a lot of Sab’s impulses to get defensive or hostile, so instead of arguments, I think there are more likely to be awkward periods where she’s just stewing in something without addressing it. Most of their fights would be, like, one of them becoming really distant for a concerning number of days until the other tries to awkwardly check in on them.

What does their future look like?: Uhh some random lore: I think eventually they do get married, despite neither of them caring that much about it. Sabrina would be excited to have something to plan, and she knows it would make the people around her happy. They have a long engagement; there’s never really an “official” proposal, just an acknowledgement that yeah, they’ll get married one day, and then eventually they get rings. The engagement is almost Sab’s favorite part, honestly. She likes planning and showing off her ring and calling Kent her fiancé, a lot of fanfare on her part for a wedding that ends up being very modest and chill.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Nick: When I first started developing Sab, I thought that with as difficult/prickly as she can be, her relationship with Nick would be worse than it is. Never bad, but certainly strained, with more jealousy/resentment on her side. However, she rejected this. She is resentful, but never towards Nick—she internalizes the negative parts of their relationship so they manifest as guilt instead. And that’s the problem, not resentment. Sab thinks he’s overprotective, but that doesn’t make her angry; it just makes her sad. She wishes things were different and he didn’t feel so responsible for her, but she also doesn’t know how she could manage without him taking on so many of her burdens. So, guilt! So much love, but always looming guilt.

Having Nick in her head has helped. It’s added a new kind of guilt (“I’m a horrible person for being so giddy that people can’t hear my thoughts even though that requires my brother to be in a coma”), but getting inside Nick’s head for once and really feeling his love for her changes things. Makes her feel way more secure, I guess? It’s easier to see her brother as human person, a friend who loves her, rather than a perfect selfless paragon who sacrificed everything to raise her, which is an important shift.

There are also Things happening with self-presentation in the fact that they’re both models, and flirts, and pretend to be shallow. And the ways that they’ve responded to vastly different expectations. And selflessness versus selfishness. But I have no idea how to talk about that yet.

Relationship with Father: Strained and distant. Sabrina doesn’t necessarily blame him for leaving, but she hates how he’s handled it. She’s incredibly frustrated that John insists on keeping them in this miserable limbo of uncomfortable visits, even though moving away was (to her) a tacit acknowledgement that she and her parents are better off without each other. He’s trying to force a relationship that Sab thinks is ultimately harmful for everyone involved. For Nick’s sake, she’s willing to grin and bear the visits, but it never works because John can obviously tell it’s an act. He pushes her, she gets defensive, and so on to infinity.

Relationship with Mother: Like with John, Sab doesn’t resent Hope for the incident itself, or for leaving afterward. It was terrifying, and the idea of being around Hope makes her panic—but she thinks of that as just another irrational anxiety symptom, and she’s trying to work through it. What she does resent Hope for is letting it get to that point at all. Sab is incredibly bitter that Hope will suffer silently to the point of almost killing her (during the incident) and potentially herself (with the BRS), while Sab has no choice but to be completely open. Especially because they’re so similar in that way—she’s almost jealous. “Oh, so your silence is allowed to almost kill me and it’s ‘nobody’s fault’ but I can’t pretend to enjoy a single lunch with Dad without him calling me out for lying?”

And even though she doesn’t hold the incident itself against her, Sab is very hung up on “Why are you never quiet? Why are you always there?” She knows, on some level, that this was not a Personal Judgement against her. But because Hope keeps so much quiet, this is the only honest expression of her mother’s feelings that she can remember! It would take a lot for Sab to believe that Hope was really, genuinely interested in reconnecting with her, rather than just pretending to love her "enough” this time because to do otherwise would reflect poorly on Hope as a mother.

Relationship with Sally: Besties <3 Sally is the only member of the Wiseman inner circle that Sab doesn’t have complicated feelings about. They both have hidden morbid streaks that they bring out in each other, and can laugh about. They both have competitive streaks that work well together because they’re always on the same team. And their wants/needs from the relationship complement each other well, I think. Sally has always felt valued because she’s useful and not because she’s loved, while Sab has always felt smothered by love/care without feeling like she genuinely adds value to other people’s lives. So it means a lot to both of them that they’re able to help each other practically, while also genuinely loving and supporting each other outside of that.

Relationship with Gray: Full of trust and genuine care, but predicated on distance. Sab loves him a lot for being so careful not to cross any boundaries, physical or emotional, with her. She’s grateful that he’s there for Nick in a way that she doesn’t feel she can be. But "I like Gray because he doesn’t push me and is good to Nick” means that any hand he extend makes her defensive, because she’ll either view him as an emissary of Nick or start to panic because their normal routine is being disrupted (she doesn’t tell him about Hope in ch 3, for example).

They get along very well in a friend-of-a-friend sort of way, and bond over being cautious counterparts to Nick. Also, Sab never had a crush on Gray, but she is not immune to tall superhero and thinks it’s fun to fake flirt with him. (You know Isabela’s “You have pretty eyes” routine from DA2? Sab does that to Gray when conversations steer towards things she’d rather not talk about.)

Relationship with Glitch: I’m really excited about these two! They click from the start, and Sabrina feels immediately comfortable around Glitch, which makes her feel distinctly uncomfortable whenever she catches herself. Externally, they have pretty different personalities, but they’re both perceptive and... socially manipulative? aware of their self-presentation?... in ways that they both pick up on right away. So it’s a lot of conversational maneuvering and trying to figure out what the other’s game is, while also genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Relationship with Kent/Kenna: I could go truly insane here. See the romance section above instead.

Relationship with Kim: Sab wants him to like her sooooo bad. He’s one of the only people to ever really get through to her, re: my headcanon conversation after the first assignment. Authority figures tend to treat her as special, whether that’s negatively because of her mind blindness or positively because she’s such an overachiever. She had no idea how to respond to that not being the case (and didn’t handle it well at first), but chapter 6 solidifies her respect for him.

It also turns Rosy’s opinion of Sab around; he was impressed by her in class but left his office thinking she was self-absorbed and naive. But the bombing is a reality check, and her response is very measured and practical in a way that surprises him.

Relationship with Lev: She doesn’t mind the comparisons to Nick or the “maybe one day they’ll fix you” comments as much as you might think. They aren’t her favorite, but she prefers that sort of thing to the inspirational platitudes belied by coddling that she got from her family growing up. Sab has fond memories of Lev and is grateful that he’s always been kind to her, but doesn’t have any particular feelings apart from that.

Relationship with Clarence: Holds a grudge against him for causing a scene, making her late, and generally being a jerk. But she can’t fault him for being right, after what happened! Mostly she just wants to avoid him, but she’ll be thrilled to lord her success over him if/when she proves herself.

Relationship with Dean Branham: Like Rosy, another authority figure that Sab desperately wants to impress. But without the personal investment she has in Rosy’s validation, more “Oh, this person is in charge, so I should make her like me!” Despite Nick’s and Rosy’s reservations, Sabrina doesn’t really have a problem with being “strongarmed” or manipulated into cooperating; for now, she figures Branham was just doing her job and respects her tactics.

Relationship/attitude towards Ments in general: Mostly just uncomfortable and wary around them. Sab doesn’t want her mind read, and she figures that no Ment wants to be forced to read it either. So she has a pretty strict “no Ments” rule for close personal relationships (excluding Nick, Sally, and Gray, of course. But only Nick really counts because he’s the only one who can hear her thoughts whenever she’s nearby). Not out of hatred or resentment, just because she knows it will be easier for everyone in the long run.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): Not many, but yes! Sab dated around a lot in the 2 years before Aeon (more like year and a half, because she completely shut it down once she was more focused on preparing for the MIV program), but there are 2 relationships that were formative/important for her. A high school sweetheart, and someone Sab met through modeling. She doesn’t keep up with her high school ex, but the model is her best friend outside of Sally and Nick, and they still keep in touch! I’m still developing them/the relationships, and I’ll probably post more about them someday. They’re fun!

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: Confusing and contradictory. She has two main modes that confuse people who meet both (e.g., Kent). She’s either cold, stuck-up, and sometimes hostile, OR she’s charming, frivolous, and sometimes flirty. Mode 1 is tense but stoic and inexpressive; mode 2 is seemingly relaxed but very posed and insincere. Mode 1 is for when she feels uncertain or has no agenda apart from “get to point B”; mode 2 is for when she’s more comfortable or trying to manipulate someone. Her actual personality is a bit closer to the second, but she doesn’t pretend not take things seriously or hide when she’s annoyed.

Strengths: Analytical, methodical, detail-oriented. Very driven and hardworking. May not always act like it, but does have social skills/charisma; a great liar, if you can’t read her mind. Unfailingly loyal and loving to her favorite people, so so so warm and affectionate and supportive if she really loves you. Very perceptive.

Weaknesses: Way too proud. Can be petty and vindictive. Self-absorbed (she doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s hard for her to see past herself sometimes). Stubborn, hates being wrong. And... emotional isn’t the word, but strong negative emotions can really cloud her judgement. It ties into her being proud, petty, and stubborn; if she’s really upset about something, she can cling to that emotion instead of re-evaluating it or moving forward.

Phobias: From this ask about the phobias that are planned to show up in-game, there are a few that I could see fitting Sab, but I want to wait to see how they’re implemented before I fully commit. Which is very metagame-y, I know (and I am very metagame-y about IF), but “fear of X” is so broad that it really does depend on when/how it manifests in the text.

That being said, agoraphobia is almost a lock; crowds do make Sab very anxious if she can’t keep track of everyone within a certain distance, and if she can’t leave when she starts feeling antsy. Claustrophobia is a maybe. The choice that triggers it (in chapter 4, about hating MRI machines) suits Sab, but I’m not sure if she hates MRI machines because she hates tight spaces, or if it’s more related to her general anxiety about hospitals, medical tests, etc. Which she definitely has!

What activities/club did they do in school?: She avoided anything group-oriented as far as possible. She took piano (maybe violin?) lessons and did recitals, but wasn’t in orchestra. The one exception was maybe National Honor Society or some equivalent, which she would have joined for her resume’s sake. And I think she would have tutored!

Where do they escape to when they need space?: A little used library corner, where she can people watch without being seen/heard.

How do they feel about/cope with their mind blindness?: Sab hates it but tries not to dwell on it. She knows that it’s no one’s fault, and she mainly just tries to... minimize it? Drown out her thoughts, limit her contact with Ments. And, least healthily, very rigidly managing herself. Because there’s so much of her that exists outside of herself, without her control, she tries to either filter or completely suppress everything else. Part of why she got into modeling, she can perform and be perfect and have total control over the final product of her body in the photographs for whatever campaign. Some Day This Will Be Better. But definitely not where she is in current canon.

How has your Button changed since the Incident with Hope?: Developed many new anxieties and disorders and syndromes :) She also became way more self-conscious, as in literally conscious of and way more tightly monitoring herself, what she’s thinking, what she’s expressing, how she’s sitting, etc. Less emotive face, more rigid posture.

If they weren’t an Aeon student, what would they be doing?: Sab would have beaten herself up forever if she “proved everyone right” by avoiding Unity/Ments entirely, so she’d want to stay in the family business somehow. She probably would have ended up doing scientific research on mental agility. Maybe even working for Mirrortech or some other biotech company, which I imagine would have been an interesting conversation to have with the family.

RANDOM FACTS:

Zodiac sign: Like I said, I assigned her Libra months ago for the sake of a template. But I don’t know enough about astrology to commit. Libra or Leo, probably.

Hobbies: Music, reading poetry, “cooking” (i.e., sitting on the counter and not helping while Nick makes dinner)

Likes: Watching other people (Nick) play video games, dressing up, taking long showers/baths, dark chocolate with caramel, back hugs

Dislikes: Being patronized, hot weather, going to the doctor, driving, doing anything she is not good at

Type of bedsheets: Bamboo.

Drink of choice: Cucumber mint lemonade! For hot drinks, some kind of caramel coffee. For alcohol, she refuses to get drunk because she’s terrified of having even less control of her mental broadcast, but at home/around people she trusts she’ll have a glass or two of wine. Doesn’t know enough to be picky, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

Favorite food: Probably some pasta dish Nick makes with asparagus and tomatoes and a lot of garlic.

Favorite color: Like a light turquoise!

Favorite music: Music to her was another mind-shielding tactic before anything else, so she tends to like upbeat-ish electronic/pop stuff. Catchy and repetitive, and/or with lots of personality to drown out her own thoughts. On the other end of the spectrum, she does have a soft spot for crackly, lo-fi, old or old-sounding slow songs—something about fuzzy recordings simulating a weak telepathic signal.

Favorite season: Hmm, spring and autumn are both good. She likes either side of winter.

Anything else you’d like to share: My heart and a long, fulfilling marriage, with anyone who reads all this 💍

#wow this is so long. insanity luv lit ral insanity #this was super helpful for articulating certain things about sab's character so it's already done its job #pls do not feel pressured to read Thousands of words about sabrina my beloved. but if you read all or even some of this <333 a kiss for you #why am i embarrassed to overshare about my own ocs on my own blog. i live here #oc: sabrina wiseman #also this was very much a stream of consciousness deal but i tried to go back and make it comprehensible. good luck all ye who enter here

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shorkbrian · 4 years

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I dont usually send in things to anyone, but I felt like I had to send this because I love your account so much. I get so excited when I see that you posted and all your writing are always soooooo good! Your new kiri fic was amazing btw. I was also wondering if there was gonna be anymore creepy sero cause that shit was gooood. Thanks and keep up the good work :) x

Don’t mind me I’m over here just SAWBING

A HELPING HAND

Prelude - I saw some fan art of Sero with a skateboard and I have decided that is the only criticism I will accept about his canon character. Lil tape elbow child totally has the skateboard & stoner vibe. My interpretation of Sero does a horrible thing by talking reader into touching him. Don’t do that. Reader is obviously uncomfortable and he completely ignores that. That’s creepy. He tries to pass off his actions as ‘normal’, which is also creepy. He threatens to slander reader for not doing what he wants them to do, which is maybe the biggest creepy. Sero is not a good dude here.

Prompt - Right at the top bby

Pairing - Sero Hanta X Reader

Warnings - Coercion, dub-con. NSFW. Non-con.

Music - https://youtu.be/rY8H-vztguQ

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sero tugged at your wrist excitedly, leading you towards his dorm. He had sprung on you the second you got out of the locker rooms after training. Luckily it was your last class of the day, so Sero wasn’t making you miss school. He would do that often, tugging you away from your friends to show you a new video or gifset he had found.

You hadn’t been in his room before, but it was no big surprise. It was a regular bedroom, dark covers on his bed, posters on the wall. A skateboard rested in the corner, and you noticed a humidifier on his otherwise-bare desk. A skateboard? Sure. But you had never pegged him as the type to own - or even know - what a humidifier was. Did he have asthma? Probably had something to do with the amount of weed he smoked. You could detect a faint trace of it in the air, skunky-smelling, making your face twist with each breath.

Sero was excited, his movements jerky and fast as he let go of your wrist, moving to shuffle around the blankets on his bed as he searched for whatever it is he wanted to show you. When he had accosted you, he had snatched your wrist, pulling you along as he explained that there was something he wanted to show you. You hoped it wasn’t anything weird. You didn’t exactly like it when the black-haired boy showed you the lewd things he found on the internet, but Sero never seemed to pick up on your discomfort. But this was what friends did, so you guessed it was fine.

With a cheery “Aha!” Sero pulled his laptop out from amid the covers, turning to show you with a grin on his face. He sat on the bed, patting the space beside him to indicate where he wanted you to be.

“Are we watching a movie?”

That’d be fun. You had been wanting to see the new John Wick movie, but none of the girls had wanted to go with you. Maybe Sero had heard you complaining and pirated the movie for you. He was nice like that.

Sero shrugged, squishing closer to you as you sat down. “Something like that.”

He scooted back, and you gasped as tape wrapped around your waist, dragging you along the bed until you were seated beside him, back against the wall, pressed against his side.

“Ah, didn’t mean to scare you man! Thought this would just be more comfortable.”

The male grinned at you, his teeth bared in a leering smile as he flipped open the laptop, booting it up. You shrugged, attention drawn to the site that was already plastered across the screen, still there from the last time he had used his laptop.

Pornhub.

Of course.

Irritation bubbled up within you. This had been going on for months now, Sero taking you aside to show you inappropriate things, ask you what you thought of them. You never knew what to say, blushing and stammering at the naked bodies splayed across the screen.

Enough was enough. You needed to stand up for yourself.

“Jeez, seriously Sero??!”

“What?”

“This is too far! I dont like doing this, it’s weird and it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Sero’s shocked face collapsed as he did, sniggering at your vexed expression.

“Oh my god, (Y/N) are you PMS’ing?”

Would it be bad if you slapped him? You settled for scoffing, moving to scoot off the bed.

“That’s it, I’m leaving. You’re being gross Sero.”

“Wait, aww, C’mon!”

Tape wrapped around your waist again, pulling you back to your previous position.

“SERO! Stop-“

He leaned against your arm, giving you a sly smirk.

“(Y/N), I’m just trying to help you relieve some stress! Having outbursts like this can’t be good for you. You just need to relax.”

Sero winked at you before pulling away, turning back to his laptop and tapping away. You spluttered, angry and confused.

“Stress relief? How is this relaxing?? I don’t want to watch two people bone, especially while I’m sitting next to my friend.”

You frowned at him, but Sero seemed unperturbed.

“You don’t masturbate after? Wow, no wonder you’re so cranky all the time.”

“You show me during lunch!!!!! What do you expect, that I’ll drop my pants right there and go after it?!?”

Sero stopped typing, turning to look at you.

“Well, If exhibitionism is your thing, sure. Personally I just go jack off in the bathroom, but you do you.”

You turned red at his blatant admission, afraid to even ask what “exhibitionism” was. Sero was entirely comfortable with sex and the like, but you were a bit more reserved.

Turning the laptop so the both of you could easily see, Sero turned your attention to the screen. You were so irritated, so confused and exasperated and bewildered at his behavior, at the casual way he talked about this sort of thing. Noticing your squirming, picking at the tape around your waist, Sero sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m trying to help you. I want you to be comfortable around this sort of thing. Denki and I do this all the time - if it makes you feel better I can text him and he can watch too?”

“NO!-“ You covered your face with your hands. ‘I just…… I don’t know….. guess I’m embarrassed….”

It was awkward sitting here with Sero, you couldn’t even imagine how weird it would be for Denki to join the two of you.

Sero rubbed your shoulder soothingly, giving you a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine, I remember being weirded out by all this stuff before I knew what it was. Lucky for you that I’m here.”

He started the video

----

You cringed at the fake moans coming from the laptop speakers, face hot and flushed as Sero kept making commentary and asking you questions to keep your attention on the video. He had already played a few, insisting you stay until he found one to “fit the mood”. You don’t know why you had agreed. Maybe because the videos had sparked a tiny flame in your stomach, making you subtly shift your thighs as you tried to alleviate the throbbing in between your legs. Maybe because the tape was still wrapped around your waist.

“Hey, I don’t mind if you feel like touching yourself.”

“What!?!?!”

You gaped at Sero in shock, trying to process what he just said. He had seen you, noticed you rubbing your thighs together. You wanted to die from embarrassment. You would never dream of touching yourself like that that in front of your friend; even getting caught clenching your thighs was humiliating. it was too awkward and he might think you’re weird and-

“Here, I’ll help.”

A hand thumbed at the waistband of your shorts, fingers barely dipping past before you were shoving at Sero, panicked.

“No! No it’s okay! Please don’t!”

The male retracted his hands, holding them both up in defeat as he chuckled.

“Yo, no worries man. Just thought I’d try and make you feel good.”

That was nice of him, but no. Your lower parts already had a tingly sense to them, a pleasurable throbbing that made you bite your lip. You ached to touch yourself, fondle your clit and pinch at it until you came, follow Sero’s advice and relieve some stress. But you could do that later, back in your own room. It felt too weird to do that in front of Sero.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the black haired male thumbing at the button of his jeans, unzipping them, sliding them off his hips. A throaty groan snapped you back to the present, and you let out a nervous “Oh” at the sight that greeted you.

Sero was palming himself over his boxers, a noticeable bulge present. They were damp in one spot, wet enough that they stuck to the head of his cock, hidden every few seconds as he rubbed his fingers over the bulge.

This was even more awkward.

You felt like you should leave, and you wanted to, but Sero’s voice stopped you before you could even begin moving off the bed or picking at the tape that held you.

“Wait! Iit’s just about to get good, look.”

Your eyes returned to the laptop screen, just in time to see the man slip his dick inside the wet opening of his female partner.

You felt strangely uneasy, your ears burning. Sero had never gone this far before when he was showing you things-

“(Y/N), can you-shit- can you c’mere?” There was a look in his eye, calculating, watching you tremble as you tried to decide whether to obey or not. You didn’t like this, didn’t feel comfortable. This felt too intimate for two friends. You opened your mouth to speak as you moved to scramble off the bed, tell Sero that you were tired and you were going to go rest, but he cut you off before you could speak.

“C’mon, don’t be mean. I was going tome you feel good before you turned chicken earlier…. You aren’t gonna even try to return the favor?”

“Sero I-“

He clicked his tongue, recognizing your tone of voice. It was the one you used to get away, to escape whenever he would talk about sex, to make excuses when he offered to teach you how to kiss. He picked up his phone, simultaneously pausing the video.

“What are you doing?”

Your tone had switched, now scared and shaky as he began tapping at his phone. He didn’t even look up as he answered, palm still slipping up and down his clothed length.

“I’m texting the boy’s group chat. They get how frustrating it is when girls pretend like it’s a big deal.” Black eyes met yours as Sero glanced up at you, voice low and dangerous. “Especially when they act like horny little sluts, trying to get themselves off first and then leave you hanging.”

You didn’t like this.

That’s not what had happened.

“Anways-“ Tone chipper again, Sero flicked his eyes back to his phone. “The boys’ll understand; we vent about bitchy girls all the time, helps us feel better about getting denied yanno?”

You weren’t a bitch. You weren’t a horny slut either. Maybe you were just making too big of a deal about it? You clenched your fists.

You slowly crawled back over to Sero, and the male lowered his phone as you did so.

“I-I just.... I’ve never….. ‘M sorry.”

A hand came up to pat your head, and he pressed play on the video again. “It’s okay.” he grabbed your hand as you settled down beside him again, stomach doing flips. “Make me feel good?”

You hesitated, pulling against his grip as he tried to lower your hand to his crotch. Sero quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s just a hand job, stop freaking out over it. It’s not even sex.”

You cringed at his choice of words, wanting to recoil and run out of his room, wash your hands and scrub your ears with soap. This all felt wrong. But if it wasn’t sex? Plus, you didn’t want Sero laughing with his friends about how much of a slut you were, what a bitch you had been for leading him on. You let him guide your hand to his lap, and he pulled down his boxers.

“See? Nothing to be scared of. I’ll talk you through it.”

You didn’t like looking between his legs, averting your eyes to the porn playing on the laptop. You flinched when you touched him too, your hands meeting warm flesh. He brought your hand up to his mouth, and to your surprise, spat into it before he guided it back down. This felt disgusting and slimy and gros- Your thoughts were interrupted by his low moan when his hand wrapped yours around his shaft.

“Oh, that feels good.”

You didn’t know what to say. His hand covered yours as he guided you into pumping along the length, jerking himself off with your hand in slow motions.

“Maybe when I’m done, you might be in the mood for me to make you feel good too.”

You wondered if the nausea bubbling up in your stomach was normal.

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tick-tick-moo · 3 years

Note

In regards to quaking in my boots about TTB! — I'm excited, definitely but I'm also mostly scared 😆

There's going to be so much content and I have already planned at least 1 gifset I'm determined to make from the movie and I'm lowkey scared that I'm going to end up hating the set skxnsknznzmz

Also!! I'm hyping it up in my mind!! I mean,,, It's Lin's directing AND it's a netflix movie so I'm highkey expecting it to be ✨aesthetic✨ and I'm afraid I'm going to be let down if it isn't my taste or something 👁️💧👄💧👁️

But also!! I am hopeful that it's going to go better than ITH regardless because I know nothing about the original musical, which already makes it easier to just enjoy in my opinion

ALSO AAHHH LIN'S DIRECTING DEBUT!!! AAAHHHH

(not looking forward to people needlessly hating on him tho,,, we already know it's coming but I don't want to)

And just skbdjsjsbdhskbdjdjs I look up to Lin as a creative person and I'm so e x c i t e d to see interviews— or literally just anything— that explains his process on how he tackled this project dkdnndnsmdjksns I wanna see if there's anything I can steal for my own processes lmao—

# going through it

I am the inverse of that! Mostly excited and a little scared. I know he will have found the best way to tell the story. And oh my gosh you are NON STOP. You already have a gifset planned????? Wow! If you hate it, you can always change it!

I have also been hyping it up! I don't think I've got set expectations, but I am definitely expecting to cry and laugh and feel all the feels! LMM is amazing at taking care of his audience, it's part of what makes his musicals so engaging.

I hope that, no matter what, there will be something that lets you find a way "in". Art is cool, and I genuinely think you would like some of the music (I don't think all of them are to your taste, from what I know about what you like, so I can't say for sure hehe).

And yes! I hope you like this one better than ITH! Having a clean slate definitely helps.

AND YESSSSSSS HIS DIRECTORIAL DEBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT I AM SO EXCITED FOR THAT ALONE!!!!!!!! I love TTB and never would have imagined that my favorite composer/lyricist/etc would be directing it. I am so excited, I feel like he has the right mix of everything for it. Apart from the love and respect of Jonathan Larson and amazing talent for storytelling, he has had bits and pieces of experience with directors and that process (Mary Poppins Returns, HDM, Timothy Green, plus he's worked w/ Tommy Kail a bunch and I'm sure he gave LMM tips).

Haters gonna hate.... Same as the fans who love everything he does without actually seeing what he's doing, there are always gonna be haters who are not gonna like anything and find a 'flaw' no matter what. LMM is a really well grounded person, I just hope that others don't ruin the movie for people who just want to enjoy it.

I am also excited for interviews!! I also want to see more of Alice Brooks and the cast. PLUS Alex Lacamoire, Bill Sherman, AND Kurt Crowley were music directors(I think that was the position). I admire all three of them as composers/arrangers/ orchestrators, so I am very excited to see what they've done.

LMM always gives the best advice, I love seeing his visits to schools and stuff because the "what advice would you give to the students" question always pops up and I take it and stuff it in my Box Of Important Info™

I hope that you'll be able to watch the movie in peace!

#gettingthroughit

Thank you for visiting, Serpzie!

#haha this got long #if you see typos #I'm sorry #Serpzie Asks #asks #moo moos #tick tick boom #lin manuel miranda

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sirtadcooper · 3 years

Note

🎨 (ah i just saw this! if it’s not too late!!!)

Nik, thank you so much for sending this! It’s probably escaped everyone’s notice by now but this ask game actually expects me to pick one of your latest ten edits. I just thought that was worth pointing out because that is not happening with anyone else and it’s certainly not happening with you. I also usually try to put them vaguely in order of preference but not this time because they are all my preference.

SUN and MOON - Only the first edit I am going to review and already a Masterpiece. The gif layering! The animation! The use of colour! It’s all so pretty and well thought out. The first gif is probably my favourite of the four, it’s just so neat. The falling snow with the yellow filter over it almost looks like sparks, it adds to the pretty.

DIN DJARIN + Troubled Birds Memes / GROGU + Troubled Birds Memes - There are memes and then there are Memes and both of these posts definitely fall into the latter category. When I saw that gifset of Din and the troubled birds for the first time I was laughing so much, I was so tickled by the idea and how well chosen the quotes were. You have managed to have gifs with impeccable comic timing! The way that on some of them the whole quote doesn’t appear until just the right frame... ugh, it’s perfect.

I want more... and I know I shouldn’t. - I love the text effects in first and last gifs, the unexpected use of pastels in association with Darth Vader of all people! It works! The big letters in the boxes are really neat. The layering of scenes is perfectly done. They both bookend that glorious middle gif with the rippling water. I... I don’t know how you did that but it’s incredible.

KELLY MARIE TRAN - Oh how I love this! The way that you’ve picked a colour palette and stuck with it is fantastic. The second panel with the TVs is great and probably my favourite part, just such a clever idea and it’s coloured so well. The first and last panels with the torn paper to tie them together are really pleasing and how could I not mention her gorgeous angel wings and halo in panel three? This is just wonderful. It’s what she deserves.

Day 7: Free Choice - The way these panels are all so different in style and yet they go so perfectly together... I’m in awe. You just have a great instinct for positioning things within a space and using colour to its full potential. You’re amazing.

“Beopero? That’s how they say Pedro… on Mars?” - As usual I don’t know how you did this but I love how it’s animated. Just takes this post to a whole other level! The little “like” heart that pops up, the incredibly realistic swiping animations, and the cute videos! Excellent choice of posts as well and I love how you have coloured them.

Escalating degrees of laughter/wheezing - Gosh this gifset makes me smile so much! I love that I have something in common with Pedro, and that’s the wheezing and rocking back and forth when I am really laughing. I love that you have told the story of Pedro’s laughter, it’s not just a random collection of moments of him laughing, it’s in order of his self control. You’ve really thought about this. That’s very galaxy brain of you.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle (Agent Whiskey) - Sometimes on Tumblr.com an edit is so good, you remember the first time you saw it no matter how many more times you come across it. This is one of those times. This was my first time seeing rotating text like that and it blew me away. You know the best part? It’s seamless. These boots are made for walkin’ just goes around and around and Whiskey in the background just goes around and around and you don’t know where the gif actually begins. That’s brilliant. The text animation on all of these gifs is inspired but it’s the first gif that lives in my mind rent free.

“How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” - You... *through tears* made this. I love that you have used a more muted colour palette this time around - I associate a bright blue with Whiskey so strongly, it’s refreshing to see other colours with him. The ye olde Western style just works so well here. Each of these posters has clearly taken a lot of time and effort. I think my favourite is the first, it was just so unexpected but wonderful!

“They all hate you, Mando, because you’re a legend.” - This colour palette! The little animations! The glitching helmet! Wee Grogu and Din with shadows that overlap... oh the Symbolism. This is just perfection.

“Sometimes you gotta do bad things to catch bad people.” - Your poster series is beautiful! This is another favourite of mine. I love that the colour palette is the colours of the Columbian flag. His own words on his skin on the fourth one as he struggles to carry the weight of them... really powerful. The colourful silhouettes on the third, the way they move! And the relatively simple first one with that bright red. The use of black and white and shades of grey throughout, like Javi’s morality... Yes. This is the good stuff.

Purple Rain - Fun fact! This was the first edit of yours that I ever saw (on 11th March, please write down our anniversary for future reference) and I loved it! It was so creative, I thought. Using the photo of him in the water was very clever. I naturally have a soft spot for this one. :)

If you don’t accept me for who I am with my frog then… go away. - This post baffles me. Where are the notes!? I thought this was funny! Din loves him despite the warning signs frog. The frog in Tom Holland’s mouth has mysteriously disappeared recently... Grogu has declined to comment.

trust me, i went to college - Just a big “YEAH!!!” for this post. You have captured my thoughts completely. Why he so broaaaaaad? I love his floof. His happy crinkles. This!!! Yeah, this is a Good Post.

So, Nik, I have made it to the end of your creations tag. I have written this very long essay for you. Your creations here, what you can do with Photoshop, is just incredible. I barely mentioned how perfect your colouring always is but that’s because it constantly gets overshadowed by the creativity you pour into each of your posts. You’re always experimenting, trying something new, surprising us. You have just got a talent for this. You’re an inspiration to me and, I’m sure, many others. I wish you and your Photoshop program a very good day. :)

creators send me 🎨 and i’ll tell you my favourite of your last ten creations and why

#sith-maul #ask #i'm sure there are a million typos in this haha #it's the Gushing it messes with my brain #but i wrote every word of this for the love of nik!#🎨 reviews

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xoruffitup · 4 years

Text

Flip Ficlets (Part III?)

Since the first time I saw BlacKkKlansman, I wondered what was going on in Flip’s head when Ron asks why he’s not taking the investigation more personally, and Flip answers “Rookie, that’s my fuckin’ business.” My brain supplied...

What if Flip had a girlfriend of color during the investigation?

Pt ii: This wouldn’t leave me alone

All it took was some nice Flip gifsets on my dash, and suddenly I wrote more of this. Here we’ve got the flashback scene to when Sarah first found out Flip was a cop, Flip getting dragged (somewhat) against his will to a disco, and Sarah’s feelings a few years in on being with a white guy.

Not beta’d or anything, just had fun.

Flip has no idea how he got talked into this.

“Hell no. No way,” had been his gruff reply when Sarah leaned away from the telephone to excitedly call, “Patrice and Ron are going to a disco tonight!”

It was a Friday evening after a long day and an even longer week. Apparently Ron had other ways he liked to recover, but Flip’s ideal Friday night usually involved reclining in a horizontal position. Definitely not dancing.

“You’re such a drag,” Sarah drawled, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I’m going. You can either come along, or accept that I’ll spend all night dancing with other guys. And you never know, some of them might be hotter than you.”

Well, that was how right there.

Flip had just stared for a long second, then blinked slowly when Sarah twirled out of the bedroom in a spangly dress that flashed plenty of shoulders and thighs. His mouth suddenly very dry around the urge to march her straight back into the bedroom, he managed, “Sarah, I have nothing to wear.”

She’d just grinned, the glitter on her dark eyelids shimmering phosphorescent.

“Just wear my favorite shirt. The red one. I’ll be satisfied.”

Flip made a passing attempt to tame his hair before pulling his boots on. (Boots to a disco. There was no hope for him at all.) Before Sarah could pull her coat on at the front door, he’d drawn her close enough to kiss her mostly-bare shoulder appreciatively. She breathed out fast and gave his hair a brief, playful tug.

“No time for that, babe. Let’s go, let’s go!”

Flip released something between a sigh and a grumble of acceptance as he grabbed his own coat and followed her out the door. The sooner they left, the sooner they’d be home when there would be time for that.

“Brother!” Ron crowed as Flip and Sarah approached him and Patrice outside the club entrance. Flip dutifully extended his hand for his and Ron’s customary handshake-slide.

“Your glitter! You look dynamite,” Patrice greeted Sarah, immediately enveloping her in a hug.

Ron’s grin – beneath an afro boasting fresh volume – could only be described as shit-eating.

“I didn’t think there was a chance in hell she’d get you to come out.”

Flip sighed, his gaze sliding indulgently towards his girlfriend. “Looks like hell hasn’t frozen over yet.”

The moment they passed inside, Ron noticed Flip’s demeanor shift and stiffen a bit. He seemed to hunch his shoulders a bit, in a mostly futile bid to make his towering frame less conspicuous.

Not that he needed height to draw looks.

Sarah, while making it look perfectly natural and effortless, made sure to always be touching Flip. Whether linking her hand with his or staying pressed to his side, she made it clear he’s with me – he’s no trouble.

Ron navigated them to the bar and secured the first round of drinks. Just before Patrice dragged her off to the neon-light dance floor, Sarah tucked a kiss against Flip’s cheek and made the vaguely threatening promise, “Don’t get too cozy at the bar here, I’m coming back for you.”

Once the girls slid off into the dancing crowd, Ron raised his glass for Flip to toast.

“I always did want to see your moves, soul brother,” Flip joked, even as his gaze compulsively jumped from each set of potentially hostile eyes to the next. Without Sarah right there pressed against him, he couldn’t quite suppress the instinct.

“I’ll only show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Hate to break it to you, but even after all your tutelage I still don’t have a funky bone in my body. Probably a lost cause.”

Flip took a long sip and spotted Sarah over the rim of the glass, dancing at the center of the floor. Immediately, he found himself soothed.

Ron nudged his elbow into Flip’s side. “It’s all about the woman, partner.”

With some difficulty, Flip tore his gaze from Sarah to peer at Ron.

“What now?”

“All you gotta do is let your woman lead. The rest comes naturally, trust me.”

“I don’t know. Trusting you has landed me in some pretty deep shit once or twice.”

“Flip. It pains me that you don’t trust me as a reliable authority on disco.”

“Well. More of an authority than me, I’ll give you that. Though that ain’t saying much.”

“Sure as hell isn’t. Nice boots, by the way.”

“Fuck off.”

Ron just grins, looking to be having an absolute delight of a time.

When the girls rejoin them, and Sarah – all laughter and heaving heartbeat and smudged glitter around her eyes – shimmies in against his side again, Flip feels like a whole new kind of interloper.

She glows, the most enticing star that’s ever burned in the night sky, and no matter whether in a club frequented by whites or blacks, he’d still look utterly out of place with her.

Sarah loops her arms up around his neck and pulls playfully. “Time to face your fate.”

Flip tries to shoot a beseeching appeal to Ron, but only catches his back as Patrice tows him towards the flashing lights of the dance floor.

There’s no hope for him now.

“Honey – I’m gonna make you look a fool.”

He already looked the fool the second he stepped in here in his boots and worn flannel – even if it is Sarah’s favorite. But Sarah – her sashaying hips, hair flips, and light feet could put this whole place in the palm of her hand.

“Not with me, you won’t,” she promises brightly, seeming to have full confidence in the same power of the leading lady espoused by Ron.

Flip hates it, he really does. Never in his life has he been a dancer. Especially not in places where he’s a magnet for attention.

This is her night. It’s for her.

So he says nothing, and lets her slight, small hands pull him deep into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

In desperation, he recalls what Ron meant as advice: Let your woman lead. The rest comes naturally.

And somehow – his miraculous goddess of a woman makes it so easy. Her back to his front, Sarah holds his hands against either side of her hips, letting him feel the sway and dip of her movements. She presses back against him just enough to nudge him into the rhythm. Over her shoulder, Flip can see her smile as he gradually matches her pace. And it… isn’t so bad, moving where she moves, savoring the weaving of her body against his and just letting himself sink into equilibrium with her.

After almost three years together, the familiar yet no less spectacular shape of her small body pressed to his carries all the sure-footed reassurance of a bright blue, sunny sky.

She lets her head tip back against his shoulder, grinning between songs.

“Like I keep telling you, you’re not so bad, babe. Even for a white boy.”

Apparently not everyone agrees. Before Flip can make a joke in return, a young man detaches from the crowd with an impeccably styled afro almost to compete with Ron, armed with a charming smile all for Sarah.

Smoothly managing to avoid even a glance at Flip, the guy offers, “I couldn’t help but notice this gorgeous sister dancing near me, who looked like she might be in need of a proper partner. Might I be of service?”

Flip almost admires the guy’s nerve. He knows Sarah well enough to stay quiet and let her handle this herself.

Sarah just tucks herself closer to Flip, smiling sweetly at the guy. “Nice of you to offer, but I’m perfectly fine with my boyfriend here.”

The guy’s mouth opens in abrupt surprise. He finally looks at Flip now, reassessing.

Flip stays silent, but can’t help himself resting a possessive hand at Sarah’s shoulder. He looks somewhere other than the guy’s face, and makes every effort to temper his glare. While Flip concertedly doesn’t watch, the guy finally gets lost.

“What a presumptuous jerk, right?” Sarah looks up at Flip through her lashes, indulging him.

Flip keeps looking out into the crowd, a slight frown clinging to his lips despite his full knowledge that the guy was no threat.

Sarah is just about to poke him into dancing again when he mumbles only just audibly over the music, “If you want to have a few dances with a partner who knows what he’s doing… I won’t mind.”

Sarah just stares up at him for a long moment, before cracking an amused smile.

“How much did that hurt to choke out?”

“Nearly stuck in my throat.”

Smiling to herself and the happiest she’s been all night, Sarah draws herself closer against him and hooks her arms up around his neck, making Flip meet her eyes.

“You came out with me tonight. You’re the only one I want to dance with.”

The music slows into a gentle, easy beat and this – this Flip can handle just fine. He rests his hands at her waist, before sliding his arms around her and drawing her all the way in. Her breath is warm and soothing against his neck, as she hums in approval near his ear and settles into a slow, pleasant sway to the music.

This, Flip doesn’t mind one bit.

“Then I’m the luckiest son of a bitch here tonight.”

He wonders if the glitter on her face is rubbing off against his neck and shirt right now. He finds he really doesn’t care.

Sarah twirls her fingers in the hair along the back of his neck. She always loves when he lets his hair get long. She nestles in closer as Flip keeps them rocking back and forth. It’s her favorite place – wrapped in his arms and nearly enveloped in the breadth of his body.

Times like right now, Flip still can’t believe that, somehow, he’s to her taste. She’s the most beautiful woman in the place, and she’s spent the last three years with a lug like him. There are a hundred good reasons why she might never have given him the time of day – not the least being his job and the fact that her clubs, discos, and bars aren’t meant for him.

And yet – way back when, she was the one to kiss him first. She’s the one who keeps a hard line with her parents, who keep prodding her to “dump the pig already.” Three years and she’s still immovable.

Flip will never quite understand; he’ll just keep doing his best to treat her right and not tempt his good fortune.

The sweeping droplets reflecting off the disco ball dapple across her dark skin. Her long weave of braided hair is a bit mussed, and she’s warm and sweaty in his arms.

He dips his head, resting his lips near her ear.

“I can’t wait to get home and make love with you.”

She goes onto her toes, stretching up towards him in a way that’s simply sacred.

“You’ve been working late this week. I think you owe me an all-nighter.”

“’till dawn, at least.”

“Maybe straight through breakfast. We’ve got no plans tomorrow.”

And Flip wouldn’t even be surprised if she means it. She’s the tiniest woman he’s ever shared a bed with, but by far the most voracious. Keeping her satisfied is his supreme joy.

They only last another two songs. They find Ron and Patrice to say their goodbyes, before Sarah leads their way out with Flip’s hand gripped tight in hers.

He doesn’t plan on letting her go for the rest of the night.

Maybe not ever.

~~~~~

Flip had wondered when to broach it. Dreaded it.

On their third date, he thought it improper to put it off any longer.

“You haven’t asked me what I do for a living.”

Sarah had sat back in her seat across the diner booth. She knew that it had perhaps been intentional. She liked him so much so far. Perhaps she was scared of thinking of him separate from this – out doing things other than holding doors for her, waiting for her to initiate reaching for his hand before he so much as kissed her goodnight, smiling his crinkly smile and laughing his deep laugh at her jokes.

“I suppose I haven’t.”

Flip pushed fries around his plate, simultaneously relieved and deeply regretting steering the conversation this way.

Still. He knew putting it off any longer would only make it worse.

“I’m a detective. I… work down at the station.”

Her body stiffened. Her hands, which had been laid on the table as if in consideration of touching him, withdrew to her lap. Her jaw went rigid, mouth drawn tight.

“So you’re a cop.”

He only barely had the heart to look at her. Still, he nodded.

“You could say that.”

She crossed her arms, shifted on the seat. He wondered if she was weighing the option to walk out right then and there.

Instead, she asked in a voice deceptively light and difficult to parse, “You do fancy undercover work?”

“Sometimes. It’s not so fancy though, usually just listening to wire taps all day.”

She stared at him – gaze assessing and harder than usual, but not entirely closed off. Not yet, at least.

“You ever arrested people?”

“It’s in the line of work.”

“People like me? Who never done anything wrong but live in a world where others don’t want us to?”

Flip took a deep breath. He was already jonesing for a cigarette.

“I have arrested two black men, yes. But two who’d done quite a bit wrong and only after we had reliable evidence against them.”

Her eyes took on a fierce glint now.

“You ever been the type to flash your lights and pull over a black driver just to rough them up a bit?”

Flip’s mouth twitches into a frown, his tone turning a shade less gentle. “Do I seem the type?”

Sarah doesn’t give an inch of ground. “No, you’ve gotta tell me. Because you could be a very different person when you walk out that door than the one sitting here with me. For all I know, you may be the type who thinks it’s fine to bag a black woman, but wouldn’t blink an eye if you saw one of my brothers beaten on the streets.”

Flip sat back, all thought of food gone along with any trace of resistance. He kept fitting together then discarding answers – each more deficient than the last. Whatever he says, he knows it can’t entirely quell her misgivings. Only his actions and time can do that.

He doesn’t say that the barber who cuts his hair is black. He doesn’t say that he mows the lawn for the elderly woman across the street from him, who happens to be black. He understands that just like his presence here across the table from her, that doesn’t prove anything.

“I can tell you that no, I’ve never pulled over anyone of any color if they weren’t speeding. But I know that’s not enough. All I can do is ask for the chance to take you out again and start proving it.”

She took him in for a long time, simply assessing the sincerity in his expression – weighing the future burden of inevitably navigating the chasms between their experiences and views of the world. Would he understand that some of those chasms could never be crossed; but it was his responsibility to see them anyway?

“I should just warn you - I’m difficult to please,” she said, the hint of a smile returning in just the corners of her lips. “But I’ll give you that chance. From what I know of you so far, I think you’ll make it count.”

She rested her hands up on the table again, leaning in again over her seat.

On the other side of the booth, Flip relaxed. She was still there. He realized part of him hadn’t expected anything after this conversation. He’d thought it wasn’t even worth hoping for – that she’d still be comfortable spending time with him once she knew everything.

But she’d given him a chance, and Flip intended to earn and treasure her trust.

He slid his hand across the table, just so his fingertips could brush across the back of her hand. He waited, but she didn’t pull away. She just gave him a small, budding smile.

“Let’s go get a drink.”

~~~~~~~~

Since the day she first met him in the bar where she used to mix drinks, Sarah has always felt completely and utterly safe with Flip. He’d come over and interposed himself between her and three guys who’d been harassing her as she tried to leave from a shift. He’d walked her out to the parking lot, offered to drive her home, and she’d never wanted to be parted from him since. It was more than simply trusting him – more than knowing with absolute certainty that he was a good, honorable man who respected and provided for her.

It was his size, when they were out together and a pair of hostile eyes fled in the opposite direction when they caught sight of him at her side. It was his carrying license and shoulder holsters – the only weapons she’d ever known with certainty would never turn against her, but would only ever be used in her protection. It was the way his presence beside her at the grocery store made the checkout person smile at her with a brightness she’d never known before. It was the way no white man sneered or smirked at her across a crowded room anymore, ever since Flip became a permanent fixture.

For a long time, she never told him these things – afraid he would feel she was using him. Sarah never troubled herself with such qualms. She knew she loved Flip for the right reasons. All the advantages to being with him had only made themselves known after she chose his company, after all.

Of course, not all her friends and family would call them “advantages.”

“How could you?” her now ex-friend had hissed. “Racist cops are out there running us down like dogs, and you’re fucking one.”

Sarah had just fixed her hair, unperturbed. This was nothing she hadn’t already considered.

“If you respect me as a woman and friend, you’d trust me to never betray my people like that.”

“But that’s what it sure sounds like.”

“Know what I think? I think it sounds like you’re doing the same thing as those racist cops. Which – I’d care to note – Flip isn’t.”

“How could you even compare-“

“It sounds like you’re trying to tell me they’re all the same, but I thought we were more evolved than that.”

Sarah doesn’t shrink from her black pride. For a while, she wondered if it was a type of passing – enjoying the freedom from harassment thanks to her intimacy with a white man. Wondered if she had crossed some invisible line without realizing, and was now separated from her brothers and sisters.

But then she’d get groceries or go to the butcher on her own, and nothing had changed. Not really. Except she’d go home and be even more grateful for the warmth of Flip’s arms and the soft scrape of his beard when she kissed him.

Home was safe. Home was where he was. And so she stopped worrying about any of it.

Then he finally asked.

She’d been out late with some friends – a little tipsy when she rung him at the station to come pick her up from the club.

It wasn’t one of the clubs they usually frequented – one that was a bit more mixed. She and her two friends had only been outside for all of a few minutes before two burly white men started jeering from across the street. They crossed the street, but were only just approaching the girls when Flip pulled up. But they’d been close enough, and Flip was trained to read violence in body language.

He’d swung a sloppy park job, jumped from the truck, and blocked their approach. He’d flashed his badge in case the contempt in his glare wasn’t loud enough. Maybe it’d be enough to scare them off such behavior for good.

He’d had Sarah’s friends squeeze into the truck and dropped them off before bringing Sarah home. She remained silent – mostly because she wasn’t a talkative drunk, but Flip perceived different reasons entirely.

They were in the kitchen – Sarah chugging water, Flip hovering in the doorway, unsure if the comfort he wanted to give would be welcome – when he asked.

“Is it ever… too hard?”

Sarah needed a moment to focus on him. The kitchen lights were so bright. The concern and anxiety in his expression was a lot to take in.

“Is what?”

He huffed a slow sigh, lifting a hand to rub across his mouth for a moment as if feeling the shape of each word as he considers them.

“Being with someone who looks like me. Who looks like…. That.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Sarah had filled and downed a second glass of water, willing herself sober.

When she looked at him again, she knew he hadn’t asked for any reassurance for his own sake. He wasn’t asking for her validation or forgiveness, nor was he trying to indirectly make some ‘we’re not all like that’ statement. The question had been solely for her sake – the rest of the world be damned.

And that… that makes her answer for him; with an answer no less true.

She comes to stand near him in the entryway to the kitchen, watching him look between her face and scanning her body, as if still reassuring himself nothing happened. She waits until he relaxes slightly, until she has his attention completely in the present moment.

“Flip. Baby. You don’t look like them. Not to me.”

She reached up to touch his cheek, to trace she shape of his mouth as he pressed a small, hesitant smile against her fingers. His hand on her hip was gentle and warm.

They got ready for bed in silence. Flip helped with undoing the back of her dress and sliding her head and arms into her pajama shirt – her coordination not quite at peak performance.

In bed, the lights out, Flip pulled her close and wrapped her up more tightly than usual. He kissed her ear until she’d gone utterly relaxed and content. At first, she burrowed her face in close against his chest, breathing in all the comfort he offered. She luxuriated in the strength she could feel at rest in his arms – alongside the tender circling of his fingertips along her back.

Suddenly, she had more to say. She lifted up just enough to find his eyes in the dim bedroom. She stroked his hair back from his face, leaning close.

“You look like the guy I don’t bitch about cooking dinner for. Who picks me up without a single complaint when it’s the middle of the night and I’m drunk. Who can fuck real good but love even better. The guy who doesn’t think he’s noble for treating me well – it’s just what anyone should do. You look like the guy who doesn’t ask if it’s a place for whites or colors, when we go out. The guy who says my hair’s beautiful, even though you’ll never understand why it takes so long to get it done.”

She leans a little closer now, her hands coming up cup his jaw, fingers gently stroking over his beard.

“You look like the guy I trust to keep me safe. The only guy I’ve ever known where it actually makes me feel better, knowing you keep a handgun in the closet. That’s what I see, Flip - the guy who gave me what means the most. A home where I know I’ll always be safe.”

As much as it enrages him, tonight had hardly been an isolated incident. Sarah had plenty of stories of experiencing such threats – some of which Flip had witnessed firsthand. But he has no power over people’s cruelty or small-mindedness. Neither of them do. All he can do is look out for her. And the whole time, part of him had just waited until it became too much for her. Until all his skin color represents became too burdensome to keep in her life any longer.

So this – it means something to him. She doesn’t see him as a turncoat or defector from enemy lines; still hovering in her line of vision. To her, he has always been behind her own line – on her own side, in private from the rest of the world.

“Sarah, I swear I’ll always protect you. Until the day when this world is less fucked up and you don’t need it anymore.”

“Mm…. but what if I still need you?”

Flip nuzzles the top of her head, draws her in a little tighter.

“Then I’ll still be there.”

She’s half asleep, head pillowed against his chest and his arms still twined around her, when she murmurs, “Flip?”

He rumbles out, “Hm?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Truth be told, he’d been thinking it. Just nervous to say the words – as he perpetually was, no matter that it wasn’t anything near the first time.

Flip opened his eyes to press a kiss to her forehead, then three more down the side of her half-asleep face. Warmth bloomed in him at her contented sigh.

“I love you. More than I know the words for.”

She rumbled a sigh, her head nodding sleepily against his chest as her lips curled in a smile.

“Good.”

#BlacKkKlansman #Flip Zimmerman #Flip fic #Adam Driver

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fleetingfigures · 4 years

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|| 2020: A Retrospective ||

With the year coming to a close soon, thank god, I thought it’d be cool to take a look back and see what’s transpired in FFXIV as well as this blog! Anyone also reading this, I invite to do the same, if you have time of course. It’s always nice to close out the year thinking of the positives. Though, without further ado let’s goooo~

Blog-Related

- Actually, well, started using this thing! Met a lot of cool peeps and had the chance to actually break out into the world RP thanks to it.

- Almost hit 100 followers, just 5 shy!

- Top 10 Posts of the Year!

1). Promise Me You’ll... 116 notes - Aug 19 2020

First and only post I’ve had reach 100 notes! Mighty proud of the posing I pulled off for this, and who knows, I might make a sequel in due time. WoL!AU’s are still very much my weakness. And G’raha. He’s a weakness of mine too, if it wasn’t readily apparent already.

2). LFRP - Saerno Glista (Balmung/Crystal DC) 75 notes - Jan 28 2020.

Ah... My old LFRP. I even updated it, but I feel the need to change it again, especially given the fact I’m Giving my Carrd a complete overhaul. Might do the same to this blog too lmao. New Year new me as they say, but in actuality a lot has occurred for a certain catboy and things must be adjusted.

3). I Was Busy Thinking ‘Bout Boys 70 notes - Dec 5 2020

I was surprised this even got the attention it did lol. Seems NPC-related content is my most popular stuff. Also I am highly disappointed no one could recognize Arnott from the HW anima weapon quests. Y-yea he’s a very minor NPC, but I think he’s a cutie.

4). Black Mage is a Fun Class 51 notes - May 6 2020

The first of my fun class series! Originally wasn’t supposed to be a series at all, but I decided that every class in the game deserved some love! Also can I just say how much I love staves? Oh and the pagos bandana. It fits oddly well Sae imo.

5). Eden’s Promise Eternity 46 notes - Dec 18 2020

One of my more recent posts, and one not all too involved in the posing. Though, like I said in the post, the MOMENT I saw that arena, I fell in love with its lighting. OST is also a banger. Glad that people enjoyed random glamour shots with Gshade improving the already good lighting.

6). A Guide to Arcanima 42 notes - Sep 28 2020

The post I put the most time into... Photoshopping became so tedious at some points, but it was well worth it! I’m proud of the result and the opportunity to share some of my views upon the RP-flexibility of Arcanima.

7). Random Shower Thought 32 notes - Feb 9 2020

...I genuinely do not remember making this post.

8). Astrologian is a Fun Class 31 notes - Nov 30 2020

My old healing main, but still without a doubt the most beautiful class in the game. I wish Tumblr didn’t restrict gif sizes, but I understand the need for people’s devices to not implode when loading resources. So much grain could be reduced and more detail could be added, but alas. The screenshot at the end is still my favorite screenshot of Sae I’ve taken, even if it’s not IC.

9). Crystarium Coat of Scouting 29 notes - Mar 20 2020

And I still stand by my statements today. Since last tier is a patch behind us now, I could spare some augments to finally dye the coat. And, like a basic bitch, I’ve made Saerno’s ninja Rogue glamour jet black as far as the eye can see; all leather, of course. What is a rogue really without their leather?

10). 26 notes - Nov 16 2020

One of my first gifsets next to my Ninja ones! It Showcases the wonderful land of La Noscea, Sae’s only true home, and highlights some of his personal favorite areas! Hence why Limsa is barely pictured. He likes the city, but growing up in the country makes one appreciate the more natural side of La Noscea.

(Created by TumblrTop10)

In-Game

- Levelled all classes to 80! Though it does feel a bit hollow not being able to get xp for doing stuff now...

- Started Raiding... Well, seriously. I used to be a scrub and only do e1,e5 and e6 savage in PF, but a friend’s static needed a healer and they all but convinced me I was good enough to join. It’s been a hell of a ride, I’ll finally be going into e12s soon, but my experiences thus far have been awesome to say the least. I feel like I’m actually getting the most out of this game now that I both savage raid and take the time to RP.

- FINALLY GOT A HOUSE ON BALMUNG.

God was the release of the new wards hella stressful. Stayed up all night, logged on the second I could, booted up next to the ferryman. Didn’t get my ideal plot, but got the neighboring one. I finally got to house something with more than 100 slots, and for that, I am eternally thankful.

- Finished those goddamn Shared Fates. And all so I could get a piece of music and possibly make a few million gil selling other SHB area themes. Crystarium night theme is the GOAT and you cannot tell me otherwise.

Roleplay

- Actually RP’ed outside of my circle of friends! Now I haven’t had the time recently to seriously go back to it like I once did, but the things I’ve learned and the people I’ve met... I wouldn’t trade it for the world. With this upcoming new year, and me taking a small break from Uni, I think I’ll begin in earnest again! First I’ve gotta update all these damn sites first to better reflect where Saerno is now.

- New Plotlines realized, old ones closed up. It’s cathartic and oh so satisfying, in a way, to see your OC go through legitimate change and to have them put a cap upon a phase of their life, slowly moving on to the next. While Saerno is still as brash as ever, he’s begun to realize just how fragile his life is. To slow down, to sit back, rest, to think about the direction his life is headed, that is the essence of his new arc.

- Secrets to uncover. To keep things brief and without many spoiler, Saerno has made the transition from Arcanist to Summoner, but with it comes its own host of problems, ones that Saerno has to grapple lest things take a turn for the worse.

- Potential Alts. Well, now that I have money again... I may actually follow through on one of the many alt ideas I’ve had, some tangentially tied to Saerno’s own story, others completely unrelated. A tailor with an unrequited love that’s inspired him throughout his hardships? Perhaps the prodigal daughter of a family whose cunning nature only fuels her desire of pure freedom? Or maybe the son of Doman liberators, trying desperately to gain the approval and praise of others so that his parents’ name do not die out completely. So many choices...

And, well, that’s all! So far while 2020 has been quite terrible, at least I have these moments to look back upon fondly. Thanks to any and all of your who have been here this year, and here’s to hoping for a wonderful 2021!

#ffxiv #rp #Balmung #Screenshots #Saerno Glista #Thank you all!#And a Happy New Year in advance~#It's been a lovely year for my creativity

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theseerasures · 5 years

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Frozen 2 Reactions, Pass #2

went to see the movie again yesterday, which helped solidify a few more thoughts percolating in the back of my head. i don’t think this one will be QUITE as long as the first, but everything’s going under a cut anyway because i’ve met me

tbh most of this is just me dunking on Elsa

one of the things that i think both helped AND hindered the movie is that they really did make an effort to make the sequel its own separate story from the original--hence the timeskip, the retcons, and so forth. on the positive end of things there’s obviously a much lower barrier of entry for the like...three people who never watched the first movie, and the characters get to feel more grown up while remaining (thanks no doubt to the writing team remaining much the same) consistent enough that the changes to their personalities still make sense. it never feels like it’s retreading old ground, and if fans want to connect the new ideas and themes to the older material (and i count myself among those, what with my first fic in almost four years being about exactly that), there are plenty of kernels with which to do so.

on the other hand: some of the new plot stuff really just DOESN’T work with what’s already been established. chief among those is the idea that ~~~the story of the enchanted forest with requisite creepy lullaby~~~ is a well remembered bedtime story for BOTH Anna and Elsa?? like what does this imply about their childhood? that their parents told them this same bedtime story over and over again, but separately in their own respective rooms? that Elsa got charming bedtime stories about magic-based conflict and war???

(”yeah papa!!! please tell me again about how magic can not only kill people but also SUNDER AN ENTIRE LAND FROM REALITY, that story’s my favorite!!! looking forward to some really spirited nightmares tonight!”)

or are we supposed to assume this is like. the thing bad Batman writers try to do where everything poignant that has ever happened to Bruce happened the night his parents were murdered? that Elsa and Anna remember the story only because it was the night of the Accident (tm)? because that’s...also stupid, i gotta say.

i love that Elsa’s verse in this song start with “the winds are restless” bc it’s exactly the way i imagine her starting conversations with her hapless subjects. “good morning, Your Majesty! how goes the kingdom?” “the winds are restless” “...” “...” “...yes. that was...something i noticed as well”

Local Sisters Make Every Time They See Each Other in Town a God Damn Event

ever since @professorspork pointed out how stupid the “and i promise you the flag of Arendelle will always fly” line is in Some Things Never Change i haven’t been able to stop laughing about it. it’s just such a BLATANT telegraph: “whooo!!! yes! Arendelle!!! we all love that place and want to save it, and you can tell because the song said so!”

the Friends shot of them all walking back to the castle and Anna has kicked her heels off is great though i love it

also love the multitude of shots where it’s Elsa and someone else and we get a peek at her silent reactions to whatever the other person is saying. not since Legolas have we been blessed with so many memeable dumb faces

“ah yes, Mama’s words! cuddle close, scootch in! you remember her saying that all the time right Elsa?? after all it’s not like you have any decade-long baggage about not being able to be near anyone, most especially family members, because you were deathly afraid that you’d instantly murder them”

more thoughts on why Into the Unknown stands out so vividly in my mind: the first movie’s songs by and large did a VERY good job of moving plot around while still exploring character emotion. Do You Want to Build a Snowman moves us through ten YEARS of story, while still leaving space for long, unsung moments where we just get to process what’s going on between the sisters as they grow up. For the First Time in Forever catches us up with the sisters, gets the gates open, and has Anna meet Hans at the end, a pivotal moment for both her and the plot. Love Is an Open Door has them get engaged and sets up the rest of the story. Let It Go is Elsa’s big character shift and sets up the goal for the other characters: the ice palace is where they all need to go to bring back summer. the FtFTiF reprise begins the endgame. the other songs are all more fluff pieces that JUST serve to introduce characters, which is why they’re...not as good, and most people don’t really care about them, but we can accept that they’re there because the strength of the other material.

with Frozen 2...Into the Unknown is pretty much the ONLY song that fits into the first category: Elsa works through her conflicted feelings about wanting to explore the unknown, AND wakes up the spirits (sidebar: her pure joy at using her powers to communicate with the spirits is SO GOOD, guys. it gets me every time). the other ones just kind of transporting their singers into the Emotional Expression Dimension for them to do their thing. sometimes the songs transport them to the next plot point while they’re singing, but nothing really happens DURING them. i can give Some Things Never Change a pass on this because it’s supposed to be about stasis (and because i’ve bitched about it enough on other fronts), but much as i love Lost in the Woods and Next Right Thing for their character exploration they’re really just music videos to get us to the next scene. Next Right Thing is particularly egregious about locking the plot in the boot--the ENTIRE sequence is just Anna climbing or slumping against random rocks until the song ends and she can actually move the story along. one could make an argument that Show Yourself does get stuff done, but it’s still mostly Elsa running around in a cave for three entire minutes before we get to that point

i don’t think Get This Right is perfect but it DOES pull off the multitasking well, and it would have not only resolved the torturously stretched engagement subplot early on but creates a nice thematic echo to Love Is an Open Door: she really knows Kristoff, she really loves him, and she proposes. it’s her choice.

Kristoff’s line about question of how/question of whether works great for highlighting his continued insecurities, but again: either we’re supposed to think he’s wrong and Anna has ALSO been thinking in terms of how and she’s just been too busy in sister-drama-land, and this whole plot should have been resolved early, or we’re supposed to think that Anna really ISN’T on the same page, in which case they...probably should have a serious conversation about where they see their relationship going and not just get engaged at the end because Elsa made a new dress

as soon as an HD version comes out i demand a gifset juxtaposing Anna slumped against a rock with Anna slumped against Elsa’s door at the end of Do You Want to Build a Snowman, because this whole sequence is where the distance between sequel and original really WORKED. Anna is singing about how alone she feels, how she’s never felt such darkness before, when we know that that’s...not true. she's felt pretty close before--not long ago that was her whole LIFE. it’s natural for her to feel this way, because being knocked off your happiness always hurts more than never having it in the first place, but we the audience get to have faith in her, because we remember. eventually she does too, and now she knows exactly how resilient she can be, exactly how strong she’s ALWAYS been.

the animated faces are SO GOOD. we see Anna flicker through seventeen feelings at once when Kristoff rescues her from the dam: delayed fear, relief, and--this is the crucial one for me--horror that she survived, because that means she’s going to have to live with the fact that Elsa didn’t.

Elsa riding into the sunset of her sapphic life is great obviously but every time i see it i worry that the movie is going to end with the same face smear effect as the Prisoner of Azkaban movie

#disney #frozen 2 #helen writes meta

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

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The Wonders of Sleep - You are a Nightmare (4/5)

Summary: Remus is in another chaotic frenzy and refuses to calm down, so Virgil has to step in and convince the Dark Creativity that sleep can be fun too. At least Thomas well get to rest with this.

Tags: Remus things! Talks about murder, death, violence, inflicting pain etc on others/self (your basic favourites in intrusive thoughts), weapons, brutality, Remus, virgil, dukexiety, the duke of nonsense and bullshit, caps, angery remus, moth man/ rat man mentions, sexual innuendo, food, (eating) worms, plants, weird living conditions, disgusting room description, absolute chaos, caring about thomas, mutual care, fluff, domestic fluff, swearwords, lotsa cursing, dismissive nicknames, self harm (mention)

Tumblr : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 . Ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / all.

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut: (<2k)

A gargantuan mace hit the ground, sending splitting stones and other pieces of damaged ground flying through the heart of the imagination.

“KILL HIM, I SAY!”

Dark Creativity screeched into the air. He ripped the mace out of the ground with great effort and immediately struck the ground with a loud war scream.

His deafening screams and yells filled the vast emptiness of the mindscape. Other than that, the slightly more silent noise of Remus consistently breaking and devastating the rocks and mountains of the desert he was in.

“Thomas just needs to get a simple baseball bat and SMASH HIS SKULL IN!”

Remus repeated his motion of shattering the bleeding ground as he hurled his mace out and behind his back for the maximum amount of swinging power science would give him.

“No more PAY! No more BILLS!”

He worked the mace down into the ground, his whole body following the movement. His upper body went down with the large weapon and stopped just shy of the unsteady ground, splitting it.

A growl could be heard. It erupted from the depths of the ground could as the dark floor slowly drove itself away from one another in two halves.

The Duke’s rage had halved the currently imagined world.

He freed his mace and brought it back to his chest. One of his hands brushed over the end of it, the one without stabby spikes! Still a pretty side, to Remus.

A little light bubble, dark pink, grew at said end with a bit of distance to the stick-part itself.

Remus shook the mace, letting the spikes give way to nothing but a long, black stick. Once the hurty spikes were gone, he YEETED the consistently expanding bubble in front of him and repeated.

“KILL HIM!”

The bubble manifested itself in the air, sticking to the invisible laws of the Duke’s whimsy. Slowly, a picture started to fade onto the dark background. Thomas could be seen, holding a bat. It was just as Remus had predicted.

The scene became crystal clear and with a simple snip of his fingers, Thomas moved as if trapped in the gifset of a violent mind. He bashed into his head, again, again, again and again as Remus chanted in moral support.

“GO! YES! GO! AGAIN! MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE-”

“Remus.”

The Imagination shifted at once, the bubbling magma morphing into a small river while the dark ground, the stones and rocks and destruction turned into a field of grass.

While the air remained heavy, the bubble popped and Remus’ stick became nothing but an elegant twig.

“Why are you up so late?”

Creativity growled in response and shook his body like a wet dog. His flouncy outfit floated as if in timelapse.

“Why are you up so late? Stop asking me silly questions. I am creating.”

Virgil hopped over the small river and turned to look directly at the raging side.

“You look as if you are pouting”, he stated calmly, much like Logan would, “what got ya stinki mood up, poopy boy?”

Remus glared back at the smaller side and cleared his throat. He bowed to pick up his twig.

“My mace.”

That was definitely a pout. Remus’ lips were pursed into a pout, even his words seemed to pout despite his sentence being so short of them.

The mustache seemed to stretch his face into a long, sad face. Maybe he was actually manipulating his appearance, maybe the facial hair really put an extra emphasis after all.

“You are the Duke of Creativity. If you want it back, you do that. Now, how about we give this financial discussion a break and fucking chill for a minute.”

Remus threw the twig away and shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah, you would like that. How about Thomathy here gets it on with a hot dude and I will shut up?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“We could eat that cockroach Thomathy squished this morning! I will get it from the trash!”

The Duke started running for time before the other could even react. Anxiety kicked in, shifting the imagination in a way, they found themselves in Remus’ messy bedroom.

A huge vine came out of the closet and ended mid-room before the bed.. or whatever one wanted to call the mess of clothing. There was a glowing blue trail of splatter on the floor. Weapons and.. hair??? were cluttered all over the floor.

Virgil could hear a distant slapping of meat.

The floorboards seemed rather loose and rattled.

“My room! ROOM ROOM ROOM!”

Remus drew Virgil close.

“Emo! Look at my plant! It is really cute! It will love you!”

Virgil clung to the ever-changing mess of ideas and shook his head.

“I want to sleep, Remus. Shut up and go to sleep with me. You can wreck havoc and reek tomorrow but Thomas needs to sleep or else he will be shit in the morning.”

The man in question bounced.

“If I make Thomathy beat up himself, he will look like shit for sure!!!”

The emo rolled his eyes and nudged Remus towards the bed. He had not even expected the room to look as bad. Maybe he should have taken this to the living-room or literally any space that had a comfortable ground to lay on. He was a metaphysical being who could not really perceive pain after all - the choice to sleep was really just allowing Thomas to deal with things more calmly, at least in the case of Anxiety. Also, only given that Virgil did not deliberately clock out in order to spare Thomas any effect from his side.

“Nah, that is work. Work sucks. We wanna sleep forever and eat weird shit, right?”

Remus grumbled.

At heart, he sort of agreed. Right now, he was driven to do things, to be active and creative or destroy and simply do as much as he could because he had that energy.

“Nap time, Dukey.”

Virgil tugged him towards the bed.

“Oh, Virgil ~ I did not know you were into this kind of thing ~”

The addressed side blushed but shook his head.

“In your dreams, fucker.”

He stepped closer to the unmoving wall of Creativity. Confidently, he let their chests collide, sending Remus backwards.

The wavering Duke gasped in surprise and squeaked insolently.

“EmO!”, he screeches with a voice that got scratchier and scratchier by the minute. His arms flailed into any direction until he drew them in front of his chest to cross them.

“How can you be cunning and cunt-y?”

Virgil could hear his brain yell a conditioned “language!” response at him. He literally heard Patton scold Remus in his brain. Judging from the sour look on the other’s face, the anxious trait assumed he could hear it too.

“Now you know how tiring it can be to hear something in you, that you can’t stop? Pretty fucking shitty, huh? Move, babysitting you is tiring.”

The reveal of a long, pink tongue was the response but Remus kicked off his boots and patted his clothings until they dissolved into some sort of magical glitter dust. It silently trickled down onto the floor and was blown into all directions of the room.

This place really had a mind of its own. Not that Virgil really minded this.

“Good Remus”, Virgil praised softly as he joined the other on the bed. They laid down together and Virgil kicked a bundle of weapons and books off the bed, “oops. My bad. I thought it was your pet raccoon.”

Remus giggled.

“No! That is you!”

Virgil shook his head, grinning into his oversized mess of a self-ruined jacket. The Duke looked at him in his own naked glory and patted the space next to him. To join him on the fun, he eyed the stack of his dirty single socks collection and gave it a strong kick.

“PARTY!”

“Nooo, nap time. We wanted to be nice to Thomas and fuck shit up tomorrow.”

Creativity blinked at Virgil. A rare occasion. The blinking and directly looking at someone. He usually just stared into something nobody but him could see. It was chilling and so deeply terrifying, Thomas would feel it in his bones when anyone but Logan or the (former) Others interacted with him.

“You will join me?”

Virgil threw his head back as he slowly snuggled up to Remus, filling the spot he had previously patted. A groan escaped his lips and he let his head roll against Remus’ shoulder.

Instead of answering, he clapped his hands together, summoning a little bowl he thrusted into Remus’ hands.

The bowl was full of little gummy worms which looked surprisingly disgusting with how slimy and wet they appeared to be. They had a certain shine to them and the colour was so unnaturally neon orange, they were glowing in the dim lighting of the Duke’s room.

“Have a cursed snack and get your creative energy into a fucked up sex dream instead of making Thomas uncomfortable. He’s got some shit to do tomorrow.”

Silence took over the room.

Virgil caused some rustling sounds as he curled up next to Remus. The room was surprisingly un-stinky compared to what he had expected.

Loud chewing sounds interrupted the momentary silence.

It was good while it lasted but Virgil was willing to trade his own discomfort for the sake of Thomas’ well-being. He needed his sleep with another tough schedule coming up.

“Virgil?”

He hummed in response.

“Are you anxious because of the new projects they planned?”

The former dark side curled further into himself, shaking his head stubbornly.

Chewing sounds continued for a bit until Remus took a small break and suddenly snapped his head back and emptied the whole bowl into his mouth. Without even moving his jaw to chew, he swallowed his big ball of cursed sweets and made a lewd lip-smacking sound.

Virgil opened his mouth to comment on how disgusting the other was but he interrupted him.

“Come cuddle. It is okay to be scared. I will eat your mean anxiety.”

He shook his head. The Duke turned to pull Virgil into a hug. The anxious side chuckled.

“This is not how I work.”

“Yeah, but it is how I work.”

“Whatever, Remus. Shut up if you wanna cuddle, you rat man.”

It was Remus’ turn to chuckle.

“You just wish I was moth man!”

Virgil shook his head, smirking into Remus’ neck. He finally allowed himself to close his eyes and hold onto the other.

It was silent.

For real.

Within minutes, Remus was asleep and Virgil was ever so silently snoring, nobody could hear it.

#ts remus #remus sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #fanfic fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #joey writes #domestic fluff #Fluffy Fic #fluff

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softjeon · 5 years

Text

Drown in me | Pt. 4

• Pairing: Pirate!Yoongi x Siren!Jungkook • Genre: Angst, Fluff | Pirate!AU / Siren!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 12,2k • Disclaimer: mentioning of blood, alcohol, abuse, nsfw content

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ “When I sing…people do weird things. Strange things happen.” Yoongi laughed awkwardly but stopped right away when he realized that Jungkook was serious about what he had said. This wasn’t a scared little boy trying to make use of some fairytale to scare the captain of the ship he’s been brought on into submission. He believed what he said.

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A crashing sound made Yoongi flinch and he was on his feet before being fully awake, dagger in hand. He swayed a little on his feet, but he was still ready to take on every attacker that came his way even though he was narrowing his eyes sleepily, trying to refocus and understand what was happening. There weren’t any attackers in his room - but there was something happening on the ship.

He could feel it. Even without any further suspicious sounds he knew that something was off.

Quickly Yoongi got dressed, not out of modesty but because a layer or two of clothes could make the difference between getting a scratch and bleeding out from a stab wound in case someone really went for him. Then he sneaked out the door. A part of his mind was screaming at him, about how he was in danger, his crew members, the ship - and most of all that Jungkook that was absent. But he ignored what it could mean or what could have happened in favor of focusing and getting to know what the hell was going on. Freaking out wouldn’t make anything better right now - it was more important to get whoever was there off of his ship!

Preferably dead.

Jimin and Taehyung stumbled upon the captain in the hallway. “It’s the Nightmares,” Namjoon rushed across them, his eyes narrowed in concentration, “They fucking robbed us.” Jimin got out his gun, while Taehyung held both of his daggers tightly, his eyes focused on the footsteps coming from above. Yoongi nodded a silent order, all of them running upstairs, just in time to see the last girl salute them teasingly, jumping down on the boat to get back to their ship. The fog had been cleared and the sun was rising tinting the ocean a beautiful color and if it wasn’t for the irony of the situation Yoongi would have loved to just sit down and enjoy it.

“Thank you for your lovely gifts, Black! It’s always so nice when you come and visit us!” Jiu spoke loudly so the other could still hear him and when she stepped away, Yoongi had the perfect view to see Jungkook struggling against the women’s hold.

Yoongi lost it, right then and there, doing the most stupid thing he could: He forgot caution, running after them until his body hit the railing, proving to them that they had something valuable, that they hurt him, that it would hurt him even more if they kept their living ‘price’. Namjoon’s grip on his shoulder pulled him back and he snarled like a dog, not at Namjoon; at the situation, at his stupid helplessness, his stupidity in general, why hadn’t he sailed faster or put up more guards or stayed awake himself because now they had Jungkook and... like ice the realization slowly sunk in and filled up his veins until he was shuddering from the cold.

They had Jungkook.

His pretty little siren who had endured enough abuse for a lifetime and had finally opened up to him. Who was so soft, so gentle and had trusted him to keep him safe. He kicked the railing, screaming out his anger and desperation until it got swallowed by the waves.

“Oh,” Jiu cocked up her eyebrows, leaning over the railing with a smirk, “You like that boy, don’t you? And I thought he was a present for us? We have our needs, too, Black.” She walked along the railing, trailing her hand across the wood just to make a show out of it, while the girls were laughing at the Black Crew. “What do you say? Will he be a good boy for me?”

He wanted to yell at her, cuss and tell her that if she did so much as harm a hair on his head that he’d come for them and burn them down - though the more he would show his emotions the more fun it would be for them to actually hurt Kook. Keeping his emotions in check and tuning it down until he could breathe a little more regularly took its toll and he was shaking while he gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white - but the pirates wouldn’t see that. They’d only hear his voice. So, he took everything he had to keep his voice stable, hoping that maybe, somehow mocking them or playing it off would make them give Jungkook back. And even if it didn’t it would buy his men time to take their own tender boat and try to catch them to get back what the others had stolen. He didn’t care for the gold or the jewelry or anything they might have gotten though - besides Jungkook and the map on his back.

“If you like second-hand presents then you can have him. And he will be good cause I trained him well. So have fun with a broken doll. You couldn’t handle someone with a defiant spirit and a real challenge anyway.” He tried to calculate in his head how quickly he’d have to jump overboard to safe Jungkook in case they threw him overboard to keep the boy from drowning, his heartbeat so loud in his ears that it almost drowned out everything else.

It was too much fun for the Nightmare Crew, riling Yoongi up, seeing the pirate so desperate, when they had something valuable to him. Jungkook’s heart was beating fast, his eyes stayed on Yoongi, while their hold was tight around his arms. His heart broke at his words, he could almost hear it shatter. Did he mean it? Was he just playing with them?

Jungkook whined helplessly, as they pulled him back and against the mast, wanting to tie him down. “Oh, believe me, I know my ways to handle defiance. I hope he likes it rough.” Jiu laughed and with her the whole crew. The moment of inobservance where they were all laughing, Jungkook kept writhing trying to push the cloth out of his mouth. He felt it loosened, just a little bit, and it had been enough to push it down his chin.

And then he screamed.

Jungkook didn’t know what came over him or what made his powers strengthen again. He panicked. Completely freaked out. And the second he screamed; a deafening, inhuman screech came from him. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

The moment the sound reached them, they clamped their hands over their ears tightly, screaming and writhing in pain. Their eyes were wide in fear as they realized that the boy in front of them wasn’t just any other normal human, he had been a siren. A deadly one at that. Only now it was too late to consider their actions. Blood was oozing out of their ears, the pain letting one by one drop unconscious. Jungkook didn’t stop screaming until they let go off him and until his voice was cracking, and he fell onto his knees.

Yoongi froze completely, his grip on the railing so tight he simply couldn’t let go. Left and right from him his men went down, shielding their ears, screaming in pain - but none of them started bleeding like the crew of the nightmare did. Jungkook’s scream hit him like a wave of pure terror that shook him to his core, rattling his bones and filling him with dread until there was nothing else left but this. There was wetness on his face and Yoongi only realized that they were silent tears when Jungkook stopped screaming.

His crew got up on their feet, one by one, still a little dazed, a little weak, some swaying so that they had to hold onto something for safety. Yoongi was different though. When he heard Jungkook’s voice crack something inside of him splintered and there was just one thought left inside of him: Save Jungkook.

He didn’t care about himself, about how he could drown or get shot by the nightmares or that Jungkook might scream again and hit him with his voice full on like he had done to the people that had tried to tie him up. He just jumped overboard, right into the cold water that tried to drag him down because he wore his jacket, his boots and everything he still had on his body. It didn’t matter, he just went for the other ship, ignoring the panicked yells of his own crew or the sound of the water sloshing around him. He didn’t even think of the tender boat he owned, the only thing on his mind was ‘Jungkook’.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that this wasn’t normal behaviour, that Jungkook’s scream must have reached him too in a way but it faded out while he was swimming, quickly getting closer to the ship.

The sound of Jungkook’s breathing was clipped off, like he didn’t get enough air into his lungs. Jungkook gulped, trying to take another deep breath but failed. He was lost in his panic as he tried to get up, slipping and falling back onto his knees once. The color left his face completely, his mind screaming at him to get away from the ship as fast as he could. Jungkook hadn’t registered that Yoongi had jumped into the water, so he tried to get closer to the railing. His vision got blurry, the dizziness making him sway dangerously as he came to a halt at the edge of the ship.

Yoongi saw Jungkook standing on deck of the other ship, dangerously close to the railing. He thought the other wanted to help him on deck so that they could steal back their stuff or check on Jungkook right away. Instead Yoongi’s heart missed a beat when Jungkook’s form slumped forward, collapsing as if someone let the air out of a balloon. The siren tilted over and then dropped right into the ocean with a splash, sinking like a stone. Yoongi could see him over the water for about half a second before he was gone and he panicked, swimming faster even though his muscles ached painfully, and his lungs were burning. But he would not lose Jungkook to the sea.

The younger might be a creature of water - but he was still Yoongi’s and the pirate would not give him up.

“Stop standing there like idiots!” Namjoon screamed and effectively got the crew to move. Hoseok ran up to the steering wheel, they pulled in the anchor, while Taehyung let down their own ship boats with Jimin inside, paddling as fast as possible to get closer to Yoongi. Jimin’s eyes were flickering around as he tried to spot his captain, but the moment he had dived down, there was nothing he could see but the black sea.

The cold water was piercing through Jungkook like a million needles, the pain waking him up and Jungkook screamed involuntarily, inhaling the water. He was choking painfully, struggling against the vortex that seemed to pull him under, reaching out his arms to try and hold onto something. Anything. The saltwater was burning down his lungs and for a moment, just a small moment, Jungkook thought that this was it. That the sea would take him back and his life had been over. It was the exact moment something wrapped around his wrist and pulled him closer. Jungkook blinked his eyes, but he didn’t keep up a fight. He couldn’t breathe. Instead he let himself get dragged along with whomever got him and only when he suddenly could feel air again and a steady hold around his waist keeping him over water, did Jungkook realize that someone had saved him. He coughed up water painfully, when another pair of hands grabbed him tightly to pull him up the boat.

“I got him! I got him!” Jimin patted Jungkook’s white cheeks, his own voiced laced with panic, “Why couldn’t he breathe? Isn’t he a siren? He’s supposed to breathe underwater. Why isn't he breathing?”

As soon as Jungkook was safely on the boat, still coughing up water but showing no other signs of damage the strength seemed to vanish from Yoongi's limbs. It was as if someone had put the regulator from survival mode back to ‘normal human limits’ and because he had exhausted his bodies’ strength before it took a toll on him now. He needed help to get back on the boat as well and though he normally would have rather drowned than showed weakness he now didn’t mind at all. Jungkook was safe. His crew was still alive. His ship was still functioning and still his own…. they would be fine. He had no idea if the nightmares were that lucky as well.

“Let’s hurry and leave those waters behind,” He ordered tiredly and then left it to the others to row the boat back to the ship. He leaned over Jungkook who blinked at him with a dazed expression, only barely realizing what was happening. “Hello fish boy,” He teased him slightly while the adrenaline leaving his body had him shivering.

Jungkook could barely make out Yoongi, blinking his eyes as they burned from all the saltwater. With shaking hands, he tried to reach out for him, trying to see if he was really there and not an imagination. When he touched him, Yoongi’s skin was ice cold, making him shiver. “’m sorry,” He coughed, his vocal cords sounding roughened up from the forceful gulps of saltwater. Jungkook wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. Maybe for everything, for getting up without asking, for using his siren powers again when he promised that he wouldn’t and for being so god damn weak.

“Yeah, you should be.” Yoongi gripped his hand tightly to show him that he was there, that Jungkook was safe because Yoongi would do everything in his power to keep him from being abducted again, “Giving me a heart attack like that.. Next time you plan on dropping into the sea like a stone please give me a warning first so that I can take a net and catch you. You know like a mermaid. Or a fish. My pretty, dumb little fishy who thought that he could get away from me like that.” His voice got soft, “I won’t let you, just so you know. And not even a ship full of pirates abducting you will make me let you go.”

Jimin was eyeing his captain from the side, the softness of his voice startling him. He never heard Yoongi speak like that, not during all the time he had been here, not even to Namjoon who he’d known the longest. Yoongi was ruthless, rough and strict. Jimin gasped when he realized why the other was acting like this and he quickly bit his lip to keep from commenting.

Jungkook smiled faintly, trying to sit up carefully with Yoongi’s help. “What you said isn’t true?” His voice sounded off, a little too croaky and not at all melodic like one expected from a siren, “That I am broken? You still want to keep me? I don’t know what I did again. I don’t know what happened. I’m dangerous.” Jungkook gulped, a painful ache in his throat.

“Of course, I didn’t. But I figured if they know how important you are to our quest then they’ll kill you for sure so I was hoping to maybe convince them of letting you go or at least buy us some time so that we could figure out how to get you back. I would have never left you behind. Pirates are said to be cowards, but no man gets left behind. That’s why we’re pirates. Because we have our own rules.“ He gently brushed a hand through Jungkook’s wet hair. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about that. Go to sleep now we both know you need it. And then we’ll figure it out together tomorrow, when you feel better.” Jungkook just nodded at that, letting Yoongi and Jimin help him back up the ship and down to captain's cabin, while the crew members were gathering the stolen goods from the Nightmare and got back on course, leaving the girls alone to figure their faith out.

“D-did I kill them?” Jungkook hadn’t said anything the past thirty minutes, too weak to even get back under deck, but now that he was in bed, taking a few sips from the water Yoongi was holding for him, he felt a lot better already. “What happened? Yoongi, I don’t know what happened.” Jungkook leaned his head against the pirate’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. Yoongi slowly let him lay down, making sure he was leaning comfortably against a pillow, but Jungkook held him back one last time. “If I turn into a monster, please kill me before I kill anyone. Please, promise me that.”

“What did I just tell you about not worrying?” He tapped Jungkook lightly on the nose but the horror in the boys eyes couldn’t be joked away, so he sat down for a moment.

“Jungkook. You are not a monster. And you won’t turn into one. They hurt you so you defended yourself. I can’t say what the effects will be or what exactly you did but I can tell you that it didn’t look like you killed them on the spot. I rather think they fainted. Maybe from your voice, maybe from pain.” He wasn’t sugarcoating anything because he didn’t see a point. Jungkook wanted honesty so he’d give him what he needed, “Nonetheless they should wake up again. And whatever you did they brought it upon themselves. They shouldn't have taken you. Then nothing would have happened. Simple as that. Now, are you going to do what I asked you to and rest until you’re not quite resembling a water corpse any longer, please?” Jungkook held onto Yoongi’s hand tightly and only when the younger was dead asleep could the captain get up and look after his crew.

“We got everything back and a little bit more,” Namjoon had his arms crossed in front of his chest, leaning against the banister, “Are you sure you are okay? You should let your ears get checked by Jin or something. The others all did, but we weren’t harmed. It just hurt like hell.”

Yoongi shook his head, “No, I don’t need to get checked. It didn’t even hurt. It just pulled me towards him. Maybe it had a different effect on me because I’m used to his presence or because we were intimate. I’ll ask him when he’s back up on his feet.” Yoongi looked around nervously, afraid that the nightmares would be up and against them soon - now even more furious than before. They were a serious threat even without having been hurt and angered. “Is this the fastest we can go?”

Namjoon cocked up an eyebrow in interest, “Oh, really?” Narrowing his eyes, he tipped a finger on his chin, a habit he developed over time when he was thinking about something. “It wasn’t coincidentally the night before this?” Namjoon smirked smugly. Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, “Why are you interested in when I’m fucking him? You planning on joining us or what?”

“Oh, no please…you know Jungkook is not my type. But that night, Jimin woke up and he was acting a bit strangely…but sensually strange you know.” Namjoon licked over his lips, watching his boyfriend walk up the ladder to his look out. “It was the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had. And Hoseok told me the same…he woke up to Taehyung kissing him and you know our boy. He would never do such a thing. Not like this at least…and when I asked the rest of the crew.” Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, amusement written all over his face, “It’s like for a moment everyone went completely nuts and went after their deepest sexual desires. Do you have an explanation for that?”

Yoongi’s expression slipped a little as he thought about his crew going for it because of Jungkook’s voice - could that really be it? That the siren’s voice had pulled his men down with him into the pits of secret desires and sexual fantasies? He definitely needed to ask him! Who knew what else Jungkook had done with his voice without him realizing it. “Uhm, that's.. interesting. I’ll keep that in mind,” He answered cluelessly, trying not to let the mental images take over.

“You should keep that in mind next time,” Namjoon chuckled low. “And to answer your previous question: yes, we’re already going as fast as we could. Unfortunately, we can’t use the wind, as it’s pretty calm today.” Namjoon motioned for Hoseok to make sure to speed up anyways, before he returned to the captain. Trying to be subtle, he looked over the sea instead of Yoongi, speaking softly. “Jimin told me how good you were with the siren. How you talked to him.” With a smile he added, “If I didn’t know you better I’d say you took a liking in him.”

Yoongi went stiff immediately. His mask slipped for a few seconds and people noticed right away - this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was as fearless and heartless as a proper pirate captain needed to be. “I don’t know why you’re surprised I’m good at talking to people. I’m the captain of a crew. I’m talking all the time. And who said anything about liking, He is important to me, yes. Because of the quest. We all want that gold, don’t we? We should keep him around till we have it. Who knows what else we’ll need him for.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile. He knew Yoongi inside out, they had been childhood friends – it wasn’t easy for the captain to hide something from him. “Yes, maybe you, I mean we, need him still.” He winked at Yoongi before walking ahead, “Then do your talking, keep the crew motivated until we arrive. Maybe a few days until we’re there.” At the door leading under deck Namjoon stilled again, “I’m really interested to see what the mirror will show you.”

“Who knows if there even is a mirror. It might just be a legend and then it turns out the ‘mirror’ was the sea all along because you can use it as a mirror when it’s calm and the sea can be anything you want her to be.” Yoongi was snappy because Namjoon treated him as if he knew better than his captain or saw through him when there wasn’t anything to see through! He wasn’t lying he was perfectly in control here! Even if he liked Jungkook the younger had his own ideas of freedom so their lives wouldn’t match for long which meant it would be utterly stupid to fall for him now. Apart from the fact that falling in love with anyone was pure stupidity in general.

Weakness wasn’t something you needed on a ship no matter the source.

He ignored the other for the rest of the day and instead concentrated on his captain duties. It felt way too long since the last time he had been with his crew instead of Jungkook. Yoongi made sure they were well and taken care of, using his abilities to talk and explain it all to a few of the crew, what had happened and what they might be facing. All of them seemed eager to outrun the pirates of the Nightmare, ready to finally finish the adventure and find the magical treasure.

They were speculating, talking about what each of them would see if they took a look inside and how their reflection would be like. Would it show them the future? Would it bring them the answers they were yearning for? They were hopeful, gleaming with the passion of a pirate to find something no one else had been able to before. And Namjoon wasn’t sure how many times he had told the story of the mirror of chéngquán by now. They just wanted to hear about it one more time.

Jungkook on the other hand, had been getting a lot quieter. It seemed as if he was stuck in his own head, worrying too much - about himself, Yoongi and whatever he was turning into. He was mindlessly playing with Yoongi’s feather pen, staring outside of the bullseye. What had happened hadn’t changed their habits, every day and every night, he still fell asleep next to the captain.

Except for this night.

Yoongi needed the stars to lead him the way. They were close, he knew it. He held on tightly to the map, ushering Taehyung to hold the lantern a little closer over the piece of paper. “Follow the Polaris,” Yoongi mumbled, his eyes searching the night sky, hearing an affirmative grunt from Hoseok who turned the wheel to follow the new instructions.

“It seems like we’re going in circles.” Namjoon yawned, before calling out for Jimin up on his look-out, “Do you see anything?”

“N-not really, it’s just dark and foggy,” Jimin called out, sighing deeply. He took the binoculars again and stared through it, trying to find anything that would give them a hint on where to go. “There’s nothing but black sea...and waves...and seagulls?” Jimin stopped, returning his gaze to where he saw the birds and screamed out in happiness, “There are seagulls! We must be close to something!” And indeed, when the fog cleared up, cliffs loomed from under the sea, seemingly growing stronger and taller the closer they got. The strait was dangerously narrow and Hoseok slowed down as much as he could until they couldn’t go any further. “I think it’s best if we anchor right here and get the boats to go ahead. We won’t be able to go further into the strait.” Namjoon quickly nodded, ushering Taehyung on to help him set the ship’s boat. “We can wake the others and explore everything tomorrow morning, but a little peek tonight doesn’t harm right?” They all had a smile on their face, their hearts beating fast, when they could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs. The navigator patted the captain on his shoulder and then sniffed the air dramatically. “Can you smell that?” Hoseok turned to Yoongi and chuckled, “It smells like there’s a treasure ahead of us. And I don’t mean the one sleeping in your bed right now.”

“If you continue to talk to your captain like that then the next ‘treasure’ in my cabin will either be your part of the island treasure that you won’t get for disrespecting me - or Taehyung. And you want neither of that.” His smile turned a little cruel. He’d never do that to Taehyung but hopefully the mention alone would be enough to shut Hoseok up. He was tense. He couldn’t handle stabs at his relationship with Jungkook right now. Yoongi stepped closer to the railing to see a little further. He was trembling from desire, a burning need, to explore, go on land, find what he had been looking for.

They were close.

He could feel it, taste it in the air.

Hoseok mumbled something inaudible let down the ladder to the ship's boat, “There you go. Captain’s first.” Everyone was going one by one, fitting themselves in the small boat to get closer to the cliff. It was quiet. None of them said a word, climbing up the stone until they reached a ledge, where they pulled themselves up. “Here,” Namjoon held out the lantern for Yoongi and then took Jimin’s hand instead, following their captain further into the dark cave.

Nothing felt as exciting as being so close to finding a treasure that you knew you could stumble upon it at any second, the anticipation sweet and bubbly. There must be an entry to get further into the cave, a way that would lead to the hidden treasure. Yoongi used the lantern to take a look around but there were just cliffs allover as if they were on top of a massive furrowed stone. Yoongi shook the annoyance off. Of course, the entry couldn’t be obvious that’s why no one had found it yet. They were called ‘hidden’ treasures for a reason.

“Did you ask the boy?” Hoseok furrowed his brows, his hands searching the cold stone for an entrance, for a hidden something – anything, that would show them the way to the treasure. “Maybe we sailed the wrong direction?” Jimin asked warily, shivering from the cold, holding onto the lantern while the others were searching. “Or you read the map wrong?” Namjoon added with a shrug of his shoulders, mimicking Hoseok as he searched the other side of the cave. They were restless, searching every corner, turning every stone but there was no symbol nor anything else giving away how to get into the cave.

Taehyung had leaned against the cold stone, watching the other pirates, yawning tiredly. “It’s a pity we can’t remember what the boy is singing each time. Siren songs are supposed to be prophetic right? Maybe he knows the way.” He looked at Namjoon, waiting for his approval, before he added, “Why are we searching for a siren treasure anyways without the siren?”

Yoongi didn’t answer that as of course they didn’t sail the wrong direction and he had read the map just fine and if Jungkook had told him anything of importance he would have told them already. Only Taehyung was worth his full attention as the younger had a point.

He sighed deeply, knowing that running around a few more times wouldn’t make an entrance appear. Maybe it was under water. Or they were overlooking something. He needed Jungkook here. Maybe the younger would know what to do. He had to!

Jungkook turned in his sleep, pulling the cushion closer into his arms. He had been aware that Yoongi would come late to bed or not at all. He knew about the night navigation. What he didn’t knew was, that now six pirates were storming down the steps and under deck and towards the captain’s cabin, opening the door in a rush. It slammed right into the wall with a loud noise, making Jungkook sat up straight in fear. His heart was beating so fast, that he clutched his chest in panic and his eyes were wide in shock. When his gaze fell onto the familiar faces though, Jungkook groaned and let himself fall back onto the bed in relief.

“No! Don’t go back to sleep!” Taehyung reached out for Kook and shook him lightly, thinking the younger was planning on ignoring them for the sake of getting a few more hours of sleep. However, what he hadn’t taken into consideration was the fact that Jungkook was curious as hell - and that he wanted to take a peek at the mirror himself. Instead he tried to bribe him with something else. “We need you on land or at least we think we do. But if you can help us and we find the treasure, that would be amazing. You could even choose the most beautiful shell of my collection as reward if you want.” He smiled at him conspiratorially.

Jungkook shook his head softly and sat up. “Don’t worry Tae. I don’t want to take away anything from your collection. I will help you of course, as much as I can.” The younger could see that it was still night outside and he wondered how many hours he had slept. Judging by the way he had jerked up so harshly; he’d still been dead asleep. He looked at all of them thoroughly and then his gaze stopped at Yoongi’s, “What do you need me for?”

“I need you to sing. On the island,” He stated their collective thought as if it was nothing while he knew that it would be dangerous to ask the siren for a song Especially considering what their last encounter with a siren song had been like; ending with lots of blood and injured pirates. Jungkook looked at him as if he doubted his ears or Yoongi’s ability to think straight and Yoongi couldn’t even blame him.

“Wh-what?” Jungkook shook his head. He was too tired to understand what Yoongi was talking about. “Why? Why do you need me to sing? Yoongi, you know I don’t want to. N-not,” His voice turned quieter, not even realizing he had been using his real name in front of the others, “Not after what happened. I don’t want to hurt you. Any of you.”

Yoongi shook his head. “No, not one of your defensive songs. Or the lullabies. It’s the island. There’s no entry. And we couldn’t find any hint on where to go from there. But I knew that this is the spot as the stars align perfectly with the map and... Taehyung reminded me that the whole quest has been built around the sirens so maybe the entry is too. Maybe your singing will show us a hint. Maybe there’ll be an echo that can show us where the entry is or maybe you’ll bewitch the animals that inhabit the island who will show us the way.“ One idea sounded stranger than the other, but the truth was he had no idea what to do now. So, Tae’s guess was as good as any other.

Confusion was written all over Jungkook’s face, “The animals?” He raised an eyebrow, chuckling quietly at Yoongi’s desperate wishes. The pirate really wanted the treasure, he could feel it, see it in his nervous behaviour and the way his eyes were almost begging Jungkook to help him. “I don’t know if I can help with that,” Jungkook got up nonetheless, “The songs just come to me. Like an early memory that you can only remember in the moment itself, but never if you want to, you know?” He bit his lip nervously, “What if I can’t control it again and it hurts someone?”

“We’ll cover our ears. Or if you want to be totally safe then it could be just you and me. We did this before, remember? So, you can sing whatever your heart tells you to and even if it’s strong enough to bewitch sailors and shatter stone then I’ll still be safe because I won’t be able to hear it. We went all the way here to find the treasure and now that we have found it there must be a way in! I know we’re in the right spot and... think about what had to happen for us to be able to go there! I don’t know if there are other sirens with maps on their backs but I very much doubt that they got caught by humans considering how strong you are so a full siren must be impossible to catch! Which would mean that we are the first or at least not one of many to go there! There must be something here! If it’s the mirror or something else that created the mirror’s legend either way I’m sure it’ll be fascinating. Please, Jungkook, help us with this! Make the cave let us in!”

Jungkook bit his lip, reaching out for the captain's hand in a nervous habit. “Okay, I will try,“ Jungkook answered with a determined nod, trying to cover up his nervousness. “Just please cover your ears.“ He looked around at each one of them and motioned for Taehyung to show them the way.

They went along staying close together in a small group. With the concentrated look on their faces you could see from afar that they were up to something important. As they had no idea where exactly the entrance was they just climbed up to the very first rock that was big enough to hold them all on the same level and then as promised shielded their ears. Yoongi had ditched the wax to cover his ears just like the others were doing this time. It might be less safe, but he didn’t want to waste precious second getting the wax out of his ears when the cave had been opened. He was buzzing with nervous energy because even though he had no idea what exactly would happen right now he definitely knew that there was something on this island, something important that wanted to be found.

Jungkook looked up at the cliff, then around, seeing the waves crashing against the stone at the side of it. It was beautiful and haunting at the same time. He waited for everyone to cover their ears and walked up closer to the edge, letting his hand soothe over the rough edges of the stone. The air tasted salty and Jungkook took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Of course, Yoongi wanted him to sing, but he had no idea what would lead them to the treasure or how exactly to open the cave. So Jungkook simply tried to trusts his instincts, the part of him that was siren and would sense those kind of things.

Jungkook started singing which Yoongi could only see from the way the younger opened his mouth and changed his breathing. He heard nothing. But he also felt nothing. And saw nothing. Nothing that was changing at least. They were still on the same island, alone, close to a cave that they couldn’t enter. He was so disappointed that he almost accidentally dropped his hands, just to flinch and close them even tighter around his ears when he realized his mistake. What would they do when this wasn’t the answer? When even letting Jungkook sing wouldn’t make a difference? How should he tell his men that they sailed out here for nothing and that keeping Jungkook around had been nothing but his personal pleasure?

Jungkook on the other hand, who thought that there was nothing either suddenly could feel a warmth spread through his hand at the end of his song, the cold stone under his palm seemingly warming up as if it had a sudden heartbeat and was coming alive under his touch. His eyes widened and he gasped, flinching away from the stone as he stopped singing immediately. It tore him right out of his hypnotic state, making him waver a little and almost slip on the wet rocks beneath his feet. Yoongi saw Jungkook waver and even though it was utterly stupid he reacted instinctively, letting go of his ears to catch the boy if necessary, leaving himself completely unprotected. Luckily for him Jungkook had stopped singing the moment he had lost balance, so he didn’t fell under his trance or asleep or split open or whatever Jungkook’s song was capable of doing to humans.

Staring up at the cliff, Jungkook gulped heavily. His heart was pumping fast when the young siren reached out for the cold wall again, this time a different place to feel it pulsate under his skin again. It was like a song, a voice so clear that was luring him in further and still – nothing more. The sturdy wall of stone was still between them and Jungkook had no idea how to get through.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispered breathlessly, gazing up at the opening of the cave. He quickly estimated if he could climb it easily or would break all of his bones if he’d slip and fall. “I can feel it. It’s here.” The siren’s whisper was so in awe that it had goosebumps rising on Yoongi’s skin and the pirate stepped closer. “What is it? How can we get in? Is it… the treasure? Is that what you are feeling?”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, shivering from the cold air. “I don’t know actually.” He turned to look at Yoongi with his eyes sparkling in the moonlight, “I was singing, and the stone turned warm out of a sudden, like it had a heartbeat. I heard someone sing. I am not sure. I don’t know. I have no idea how to get in…but I am sure it’s in there.”

Jungkook’s happiness was contagious so Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back at him even though this wasn’t what he had wanted to hear. “So... that’s great news. Except for the part where we still don’t know how to get in.” He motioned for his men to put their hands away from their ears and listen to him. “Good news first: The treasure is in there.” He didn’t mention that Jungkook had felt it through the stone because there was no reason to freak them out even more, “The bad news is that we still don’t know how to get in. There is no reason for you to stay out here when you could catch up on some sleep on the ship. Jungkook and I will try to figure out what will make us able to actually reach the treasure and take it with us and till then you are free to spend your time however you want.”

Jungkook looked at the retreating bodies, rubbing his hands over his arms to keep himself warm. He really would rather just go back to sleep as well, but he had promised to help Yoongi – so he would. His teeth were clattering from the cold and Jungkook pointed up at the cave, “Can we go up there? I just want to see if I feel it there, too.” When the captain nodded, Jungkook climbed up the few stones, pulling himself up over the ledge and held out his hand for Yoongi as well. He motioned for him to cover his ears once more, checking if the others were already back at the ship and then started singing quietly. He held his hand against the wall, walking around and letting it soothe over the rough surface while he felt the warmth on his fingertips. Turning around, he reached for Yoongi’s hands as he stopped singing and put the pirate’s palm into his hand to make him feel it too. “That’s all I’m feeling.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows. “If it’s just warmth then could it be spots that the sun had reached before? Or maybe there are hot springs on the island who warm the stone from the inside out?” His hope started slowly crumbling Even if the treasure was really there it wouldn’t matter if they couldn’t get to it. If he had known where exactly it was he might find a way in…

“Jungkook can you tell me where exactly this treasure is? Maybe I still have something on board to blow things up with.”

Jungkook shook his head furiously, “No! Are you crazy? You will…you will destroy everything. It’s here, I can feel it!” Jungkook took Yoongi’s wrist and pulled him closer to the wall, close enough that he could cover one of his ears and take his hand and place it on the wall with his own on top. “Just cover the other, okay?” He ordered, concentrating on their hands. Then he sang again, hoping that with the help of his touch, the pirate could feel not only the warmth but also the liveliness that felt like a heartbeat, too.

Jungkook was getting desperate.

Yoongi couldn’t hear whatever Jungkook was hearing. But as he had been giving no real warning that the younger was about to start singing again he hadn’t covered his ears properly and so instead of hearing the stone he heard…

Jungkook.

It hit him, like a blow right in the gut when he realized that he was listening unprotected to a siren right now. His mouth opened in awe, fingers trembling as he let go of his fear completely, just staring at Jungkook. He could hear him. He was listening to him and he wasn’t dying, and his voice sounded amazing! It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, as haunting as the waves, soft when it needed to be and pulling at his very core in just the right places. He shuddered violently, then he took Jungkook’s face in his and kissed the song right from his lips.

The younger stopped singing the moment Yoongi’s lips crashed onto his and he realized with a heavy heart that the pirate hadn’t had his ears covered properly. He was under a spell. His spell – reacting to whatever Jungkook had been singing about, maybe even luring him into his death.

“Yoongi! No!” Jungkook pushed him off his lips, trying to think at the top of his head how to get the pirate back to his senses. Reacting on instinct, he slapped Yoongi’s cheek. “Please, come back, please, please, please,” Jungkook was begging, shaking the pirate by his shoulders, ready to use all of his strength to keep Yoongi from jumping into the ocean.

“Ow!” Yoongi rubbed his jaw where Jungkook had slapped him with full force. “I didn’t know you thought I was that bad at kissing. You didn’t have to hit me though. I can definitely change with practice. Lots of practice.” He got serious again, trying to get back to where they had left off but Jungkook still acted in panic and so Yoongi sighed deeply.

“Jungkook. I’m not bewitched. Or at least I don’t think I am. Wait, how would one even be able to find that out? I mean I like you a lot but that’s what I always feel for…” His eyes widened when he realized his mistake, “I mean I was always kind of under your spell. You just have that effect on people, right? What I meant to say was that I’m not more under your spell than usual. Your voice just sounded so amazing that I wanted to kiss you. I maybe should have considered giving you a warning first and not startle you like that. Are you okay?”

Now Jungkook was the one who wanted to jump off the cliff. He paled visibly.

“But y-you heard me sing. No, this can’t be it…it can’t be that,” Jungkook stumbled back, staring back at Yoongi who was moving his jaw to see if it hurt from the slap, a cocky smile still on his lips. “I…think it’s best if we…if I,” Jungkook stuttered not being able to tear his gaze from Yoongi, before he turned around and ran out of the cave. And because there was only one boat left to return to the ship, Jungkook took the easy way out, climbing down the cliff and jumping right into the cold ocean. His body always got used to the temperatures easily and it felt only right to let the water swallow him and just swim back. It was like he needed the moment to think underwater.

There was only one explanation for this.

Jungkook had never heard of people being so much under a sirens spell that they could hear what they were singing about without falling deeper into their trap. They were either hypnotized every time or not. There was no in-between.

“J.. Jungkook?” Yoongi had barely time to react before the younger ran, fleeing from him as if he had threatened him with something. Carefully he thought over what he had said but couldn’t find anything that would explain that kind of reaction. The only thing that made sense was that either Jungkook was scared that Yoongi would hurt him out of revenge for almost being bewitched (it had been his own fault though and Yoongi had thought that Kook knew by now that he didn’t have to fear him) or he didn’t believe him that he hadn’t fallen for the magic in his voice and was afraid of what would happen or what he would do to Kook in his magic induced haze.

Jungkook gasped when he came back up, reaching for the ladder that hung off the ship’s side to climb up and over the reeling, running back under deck. Here he was starting to shiver, the wet clothes sticking to his body, a pool of saltwater forming at his feet. “I love him,” Jungkook whispered to himself, shaking his head as if he declared himself as completely gone crazy now. But only love had the ability to keep someone safe from a siren’s magic.

True love.

Yoongi sighed deeply and then started walking back towards the ship. As it seemed the treasure would have to wait. First he would have to calm down a scared little siren that was probably hiding under deck. Hopefully. There was a painful stab in his chest at the thought of Jungkook just swimming away to one of the other islands around here, getting away from him so that Yoongi could never see his beautiful smile again.

Jungkook was a shivering mess, trying to get out of his wet clothes and into dry ones instead. The fear had installed itself into his heart, the worries circling around in his head that it was impossible not to listen to them. He had been so stupid to fall for a pirate, for someone who was just interested in him because he was a mysterious creature - nothing more. He was sure of that. Tears were slowly falling down his cheeks and Jungkook wiped them away angrily. He just wanted to see that mirror, to know the answers to all of his questions - that was all. Jungkook sunk down on the floor, leaning his head against the wall as he closed his eyes. He couldn’t be in love, he just couldn’t. Because if there was one thing that could kill a siren, then it was unrequited love. Everyone knew that.

When Yoongi reached the ship there was no siren in sight and with a heavy heart he went under deck and into bis cabin. The relief only lasted for so long as it took for him to see the tears on the younger's face and the way he was shivering. He had only half changed his clothes, wearing his sleeping pants and a thin undershirt with nothing over it.

"Jungkook?" He softly knocked against the doorframe once to get the boys attention. He didn't want to startle him any further than he already had. The siren looked miserable and Yoongi ached for him. He might have even considered giving him a hug if he hadn't been so sure that close proximity was the last thing the boy would want from him right now. "You don't need to be scared; I am not bewitched. Really, there's nothing!" The boy sniffled and Yoongi reached out for him, letting his hand fall back to his side when he remembered that he was the problem here.

"It's okay, pretty. I don't think you tried to sing to me on purpose. I know you are way too gentle for that. And if you are afraid that I'll punish you for that slap - I won't. I can take a little slap once in a while..." He wasn't sure if his attempt at bringing some humor into this had worked because Jungkook didn't smile or stop crying, "...and I know why you did it. This alone would be enough proof for me that you are not a danger to me. You wanted to shake me out of it right away, before you could even think about it properly. I'm not scared of you any longer. And you shouldn't be of me either."

When Jungkook didn't seem to react much to it, he continued, telling him what the boy apparently needed to hear, "Also if this is about the cave and the way in then I know what you might be thinking. Yes, this treasure is important to me. A lot. But if you won't manage to find a way in through your powers then it is not your fault! I won't hold you responsible for it or hurt you or... or kill you. I had hoped that you knew by now that you don't have to fear for your life any longer. Some of the other sailors might still be wary about you but you are safe with me. Always. Just as you are with Namjoon and Tae. They won't let anything happen to you. Please, Jungkook. You can trust me. Just like I trust you!" His voice was barely a whisper at the end as he reached out for him after all, touching his face as gently as he could to wipe away the tears. "Please don't cry, pretty. I can't stand to see you hurting."

Jungkook nodded softly, leaning into his touch just because it felt right to do so, closing his eyes for a moment. He had come to realize that even though Yoongi promised not to hurt him, that he would - either way and without wanting to - because someone like him could never love a creature like Jungkook.

But he couldn’t do anything about his love for him, he was doomed.

“I’m sorry, I just… I freaked,” Jungkook’s voice was soft, little sniffs interrupting each word, “No one ever heard me sing without consequences. It was...scary.” He averted his gaze, holding onto Yoongi’s wrist to make him stay with him and not let his palm leave his cheek. It just felt too good to not lean against it. “I can never remember the words I sing and if Taehyung is right…and there’s something in my songs... You felt the cave react to it, there must be something.” Jungkook blinked his eyes open. The other thing he knew for a fact was that he would still do anything for Yoongi even if it meant for their small adventure to be over and to part ways soon, because he would be no use for the captain anymore.

Jungkook reached for Yoongi, placing his hand on his neck to pull him in and kiss him sweet and gentle. He needed it. The feel of his warm lips against his own cold ones and even though the kiss felt different for him now, in the end it would change nothing. He only pulled off when he needed to breathe, nosing along Yoongi’s cheek, his breath like a sweet whisper on the pirate’s skin. Jungkook was like the sweetest temptation, kissing him so gentle, so perfect that Yoongi felt like he must be in a dream. The boys whisper sunk under his skin, warming him from the inside and when the siren started to sing again, only quieter this time and just for him to hear, he was completely lost.

“Come to me, I let you in.

All the secrets that I keep, hidden in my blood.

Slipping right through your hands, you’re going down with me.

Fall in my trap, and on your knees. In waves, let it wash over you;

through the stone you must break.

My love, my blood, my fingertips,

let a kiss escape my lips.

Cut me open and my spell won’t be broken.

Your fate is sealed, let me be your key,

Take my hand and drown in me.

Hold your breath, to sing my lullaby down on the shore,

your slow descent to the ocean floor.”

The second he heard Jungkook’s clear, angelic voice his eyes filled with tears, but he refused to cry because the black captain didn’t cry in front of anyone! Not even when he held a beautiful siren in his arms whose voice was so beautiful it made him feel like crying.

Jungkook only slowly opened his eyes again when he stopped singing. His hands had found their way to Yoongi’s shirt, holding so tightly onto the fabric that his knuckles turned white. He quickly let go, smoothing over the soft satin but stayed close, nonetheless. He didn’t want to part any further from Yoongi, still cheek against cheek, his body heat warming him up more effectively than anything else could - although he was still shaking from nervousness. “Y-you okay?”

Yoongi nodded, not daring to speak because he was sure his voice would give out on him if he tried right now. It took him a few kisses (short and sweet and way too intimate for the nature of their relationship) before he had caught himself enough to answer, “It just blows me away how beautiful you can sing every time I hear it.” He chuckled, thinking about how it had only been the second time that he was able to hear him and that it already felt like Jungkook’s voice had been in his heart forever. It sounded so familiar, so comforting and sweet - Yoongi didn’t want to miss it ever again. He cocked his head a little before asking carefully. “So, what are those secrets that you talked about in your song? Those which are hidden in your blood?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows in confusion, shivering slightly as he watched Yoongi get more comfortable on the floor, expecting him to explain what he just sang about. “My blood? Secrets?” The young siren shook his head and tried to reach for the blanket on the bed, because he still felt cold, “I don’t know what you’re talking about actually. I told you I don’t remember what I sing about.” He sighed, before explaining again, “It’s more of a feeling that overcomes me. I know what to sing and in that moment I know all the lyrics, the tunes, the melody…but when I stop I can’t remember. It’s like the human in me can’t remember what the siren part was doing. That’s weird right? I’m weird, I’m sorry.” Jungkook bit his lip nervously, playing with the hem of his shirt.

Yoongi looked at him closely, intrigued by what the boy had just told him. He had thought that Jungkook would at least remember some of it or at least be able to explain when you asked him and made him remember but apparently he really had no clue about his songs. “You are an enigma, my little fish.” He ruffled through Jungkook’s hair to lighten the younger’s mood and stop him from drowning in his own self-deprecating thoughts. “We’ll figure you out, you’ll see.”

Jungkook nodded sleepily, “Do you remember it?” He got up carefully, walking over to Yoongi’s desk to search for a quill and some paper. Sitting down at the edge of the bed when he had found it, he motioned for Yoongi to come to him, thinking that sitting here was way more comfortable than the wooden floors of the ship. “Write it down for me, please. Maybe I can help you then and be useful for once.”

Yoongi sat down comfortably and without even thinking about it he hugged the younger from behind, pulling him in and against his chest so that the boy could sit down between his legs. “I don’t think I remember it all though. Maybe if you hum a little? Or do you think you could even sing the song again?” The first time he had been too mesmerized by his voice to keep each and every word in mind, maybe it would work a second or third time around.

Jungkook cleared his throat, glad that Yoongi couldn’t see much of the blush on his cheeks that was still evident from when he had pulled him in. It was everything Jungkook needed and he wanted to stay there forever. Like his own sweet heaven, he thought while giggling to himself, trying to block out every worry and instead began to sing again.

He watched Yoongi write down a couple of words, telling him to repeat multiple times. Jungkook did so until he wasn’t even sure if he was still singing the same song, but seeing Yoongi form the words, sorting them in the right order had him feeling positive about this. He yawned, blinking at the notes while the pirate was mumbling to himself. “Sounds like we have to break through the stone in a way. It must be behind it? Just how I felt it right?” Jungkook turned his head a little so he could look at Yoongi. He smiled tiredly, leaning his cheek against Yoongi’s chest, “Maybe the key to open it isn’t my song itself.” Jungkook was just rambling now, mumbling about how he could dive around the cliff as soon as the sun was up as apparently he needed to go down. He hadn’t made it to the second page of what Yoongi had written and the pirate was keeping it carefully hidden behind the first page of his notes. Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to relax his tired mind, whispering the song once more until not even Yoongi could understand him anymore.

Using his magic over and over again obviously took its toll on the siren and when they were finished Jungkook could barely look straight. Yoongi could feel the youngers bodyweight more and more on him as the younger slowly sunk against his chest while nodding off. At first he jerked awake for a few more times, adamant on solving the riddle together with Yoongi but it wasn’t that easy when you were so sleepy that keeping your eyes open seemed like an impossible quest. Yoongi however was glad when he was sure the younger had fallen asleep. They had tried to analyze the song piece by piece and line by line to make sense of it and it worked well - except for the past that he had kept from Jungkook.

“Cut me open and my spell won’t be broken...”

It wasn’t supposed to be taken literal, right? Why bring Jungkook all the way here if someone had to hurt him at the end? For a horrible, horrible second Yoongi wasn't sure how he should decide if he would end up having to choose between hurting Kook to get to the treasure and sailing off aimless and empty handed - but with a safe siren under deck.

He read the lines over and over again…and still it made no sense. Some of it was pretty clear, how Jungkook was the key to all of it and they had to go down. But where to? And it all could only happen if they went through the entrance first…for which he had to cut the siren open? Yoongi shook his head, rubbing the sides of his temples. Placing the notes aside, he figured that he wouldn’t make any sense of it alone. So, he took the younger back into his arms, embracing him carefully to make him lay down and draped the blanket over them.

He placed a sweet kiss on the siren’s forehead and a soft sigh escaped Jungkook’s lips. The longer he gazed at the younger, the more he realized he wasn’t thinking rational enough and that he needed someone that was. Maybe Jungkook had bewitched him after all, clouding his mind after all even though he heard him sing perfectly clearly…

He didn’t mind the late hour and hoped that Namjoon wouldn’t mind either. He wasn’t as sleepless as Yoongi so sometimes he actually went to bed at a fairly reasonable hour. Hopefully tonight would not be one of those nights. When he reached Namjoon’s cabin he knocked three times, in a pattern that only he and Namjoon knew and then waited for the other to let him in if he was home.

Namjoon heard the knock, but he only realized someone was at the door a few seconds later, jerking awake with a fast beating heart. Jimin was still on top of him, snoring softly as he had cuddled his face into him not even bothered by any of the noise. “Yoongi?” He groaned, trying to sit up without waking Jimin but the younger always slept like a rock. When he rolled aside and away from his chest, Namjoon quickly covered his naked body to keep his dignity before he opened the door a peak, blinking tiredly, “Are you alright?”

Yoongi let his gaze wander over Namjoons form and his expression that ranged from tired to embarrassed. “Oh. I woke you.” He commented and then stated further. “And.. you are not alone?” It had been little more than a guess but Namjoon’s flustered reaction was answer enough for him. He leaned forward to sneak a peek even though Namjoon did his best to block his view. Nonetheless Yoongi saw who had been keeping Namjoon warm at night.

”Ah, I see.” Jimin, one of his youngest boys was lying relaxed and half naked under Namjoons covers. He had half a mind to ask Namjoon about his preparations to make sure that he wouldn't make the same mistake of going too fast too rough as he had done last time with Kook - but then he felt it would be too personal and intimate - and also there were more time urgent things to discuss.

“Yeah, I am alright, I think.” He answered vaguely. It was only half an honest answer because he actually felt a little out of it. Maybe the siren song showed its effect after all.

Namjoon mumbled something, grabbing his robe and then closed the door behind them. “You told us to go and rest…so please, you know I don’t ask questions about who sleeps in your bed, right?” He sighed and added quietly, “You know I like him so please don’t make it more complicated with snooping around, please.” Namjoon smiled at his friend and captain, cocking an eyebrow as he stared at Yoongi intensely, tying the bathrobe around his waist. “You think?” He noticed the papers in the captain's hand right away, reaching for it and taking it from him when Yoongi let him. “Did you find a clue? A way to get in. What is it that can’t wait until tomorrow morning?” His eyes read over the notes quickly, furrowing his brows deeply as he waited for Yoongi to explain it all.

“You don’t ask questions because you know already,” Yoongi answered dryly and then added, “And I don’t care who you fuck. Just don’t screw him over or break his heart on purpose because I need him on my ship, and I don’t need drama. Simple as that.” It could get pretty lonely on a ship, so he wasn’t against his crew members teaming up - as long as it didn’t end in broken hearts and goodbyes.

As Namjoon had already scanned the papers Yoongi had no other way than to come clean right away, “I made Jungkook sing. To find a way to the treasure. And this is what he came up with. He doesn’t remember saying this, apparently he falls into some kind of trance whenever he sings but I wrote it down word by word. And I... I kind of worry...” He broke off, trying to go back to being cool and collected. “I wondered how you would interpret these parts...” He tapped onto the ‘cut me open’ part and those about Kook’s ‘blood’ and then hesitantly added, voice only barely audible, “And what you’d advise me to do if it is meant to be a literal instruction.”

Killing Kook was not an option to him. Though if he would tell his crew tomorrow that he had been wrong and that there was nothing... they weren’t stupid. They would find out eventually. And if they revolted, if they insisted on going all the way to the treasure… Yoongi had no idea if he could keep them from doing what they had wanted in the first place: To cut Jungkook up to see what he was made of.

Namjoon hummed in deep thoughts, placing his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder to make him walk ahead. They didn’t need to discuss a possible map to the treasure in the hallways where every crew member could listen in on them, instead Namjoon lead Yoongi to the galley. There he sat down again, reading over the notes once more. “So, you heard what he sang?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, looking up at his captains, “You know that’s not normal? No one can remember what a siren sings about. Either you’re hypnotized and don’t remember a thing or you’re dead.” He reached forward to poke Yoongi to see if he was truly alive and not an imagination of his tired mind but the captain batted Namjoon’s hand away like a fly. “Stop it! Maybe Jungkook has a sore throat and therefore can’t sing properly.” He halfheartedly tried to explain. He had absolutely no idea why it didn’t work on him, but he hoped that whatever it was that kept him safe would continue to work because now that he had heard Jungkook's mesmerizing singing voice he definitely wanted to hear it again.

“So, how I see it the key to it all is in his blood? It must be filled with his magic right?” Namjoon had an idea why Yoongi could hear the siren’s songs, he was well versed in mythology, and these notes gave him further hints, but he kept his mouth shut because knowing his best friend and captain the other would run off the second he was asked if he was in love with his siren. It was clear that only two people could open the cave, someone who had fallen for a siren and was therefore willing to go down with them and the siren itself. Namjoon smirked. “You have to cut him. That’s the only way in.”

He waited, watching Yoongi closely until the shocked expression fell over his face but before the captain could say something and possibly lose his face Namjoon added, “Just his fingertip.” He chuckled, patting Yoongi’s shoulder while the captain seemed awfully pale. “And then you have to drown with him.” Namjoon motioned to the last part of the song adding that part quite nonchalantly, “I think it’s meant quite literally: holding your breath while the siren sings and you descent to the ocean floor. If this is a siren treasure where would you hide it? Not just behind a cliff right? That would be too easy. Only a siren or someone with a siren could reach it.”

Namjoon’s conclusions left him shell shocked. He had hoped for the other to find some secret meaning or code or anything that would be far from the obvious because hurting Jungkook was out of the question. Luckily the amount seemed to be neglectable as long as it was blood. “I’ll ask him then. Maybe he’s willing to do it.” He scoffed at Namjoon’s further revelation. “Ocean floor? I can’t hold my breath for that long!” It made sense though. He had been too caught up with Jungkook’s part to make sense of the last few lines of the song, but it sounded logic as Namjoon had put it: A siren treasure should only be reachable to a siren.

“Well, I can’t either,“ Namjoon gave the notes back to Yoongi, “Maybe you can ask Taehyung to go down with Jungkook then. You know he loves diving…” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, “Is that all you need from me? You know…I…ehm, there’s someone waiting in my bed…and he gets kind of whiny because,” Namjoon’s voice turned into a whisper, “He doesn’t like to be cold.” The taller man bit his lip to keep from blushing and quickly cleared his throat.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re oversharing!” Yoongi coughed awkwardly and took the papers back from Namjoon. “Thanks for helping me with this. I might talk to Tae in the morning.” He wasn’t so sure about asking the younger about this as he couldn't quite expect him to risk his life for them and their treasure hunt when Yoongi wasn't even sure if he’d take that risk himself. Maybe it was enough to let Kook go alone... Anyway, he had enough to think about, so he left Namjoon to his bed and the person in it that was waiting for him and went back to his own bed as well.

Jungkook was still in the same position as he had left him and only when he placed the notes somewhere safe and had gotten under the covers, the younger stirred. “I always feel it when you’re not by my side,” Jungkook’s voice sounded a bit rough from sleeping, or too much singing, turning around to face the captain so that he could pull him in easily. “Will we find the treasure tomorrow?” The younger’s words were a little slurred and he shivered from feeling Yoongi’s cold body against his own. Nonetheless he inched closer.

“Yeah, we might.” He made sure that the covers were all around them before pulling the younger in. “I’m here now. I’ll keep you warm. And safe. You can go back to sleep again.” He whispered, trying to not let it get to him that Jungkook had basically just told him he slept better with his presence. He needed him - in a way that was different from his crew members (because he simply was their captain and gave the orders). He waited until he was sure that the siren had fallen back asleep before gently kissing his forehead.

“I’m glad that you’re here pretty. I don’t know where else I’d be right now if I hadn't found you.”

A/N: Only one chapter left!!! Do you think they will find the treasure? ;) 💕

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edourado · 5 years

Text

Distance

Ok. So. @superrpowerlesshuman made a an amazing gifset (and I know that if I put a link in here it won’t appear in the tags, so help an author out and reblog it, please?) and I thought I’d write a little something to go with it, because it really did evoke soemething in me.

I really do hope you like it, and that you don’t mind my dwelling into the scenario you created.

Raise your hand if you need more kastle o/

Much love. Hope this pleases.

She sees him from across the bar.

Looking… Normal. Standing there with the people watching the band, no guns no blood no bruises, just a dark button down, jeans and those boots.

He smiles at her, almost sheepish, and it is, honestly, a shock. She’s so used to seeing him angry, mad, desperate, stubbornly determined to do something she didn’t want him to do.

His smile is something, she realizes, unfamiliar to her. Karen Page can count on one hand the number of times Frank Castle actually honestly smiled in her presence.

All those times, though, it always meant something.

Foggy is rambling away, already so drunk, and she had drank more than him.

“I don’t know what to do, K”, he mumbles while Karen is distracted by the sight of Frank, trying to figure out how the hell did he know she would be here, in this particular bar. “She’s so mad at me, and I don’t even know how to fix it.”

She looks back at her friend, who had dropped his head on the wooden surface of the bar.

Really, she had been happy to accept his invitation for drinks, he needed to vent, this fight with Marci had been driving him crazy for almost a week, now.

“You wanna go get a drink?” He had asked, miserably, while they closed up the office, and she said yeah, sure, let’s get hammered.

At first, she had wished Matt wasn’t tangled up in endless meetings with Luke Cage and Danny Rand all day, he might have been able to help her with a distraught Foggy, but now she was glad he couldn’t make it. He would not be happy with Frank’s presence.

She was, though. Extremely happy.

He had skipped town after the last time she saw him, and she had been sad and angry and heartbroken, adamant on stopping this, putting an end on this thing, this thing of theirs, she had decided to cut it.

If he didn’t want her, he didn’t want her. Not like she could force him to love her back.

Except she knew he did. She knew it, because Frank sucks at lying, he could push her away all he wanted, but she knew it, because of the flowers and the bomb and the bullets he took, all the bullets he took to save her, his eyes and his face and his hands and his words and the way he said her name and the way he held her hand, tight and firm, like he never wanted to let go.

Karen knew he was lying. Still, she was angry.

She only found out he left town when another pot of flowers found its way to her. This time, to her front door, not from inside a backpack.

She got home from work and there they sat, with a card that read her name, a simple “Happy Birthday” and a phone number.

She had ignored the flowers, at first. Brought them in and put them on the kitchen counter, and then walked away, to take a shower. She made herself dinner, and didn’t look at the flowers.

She did the dishes and didn’t look at the white roses.

She tidied the apartment up and didn’t acknowledge the bouquet, bigger than its predecessor, not as big as the one Danny Rand has sent that morning, and not as elaborate as the one from Tower’s office.

In the end, when she was lying in bed, ready to turn in for the night, she picked the card up and typed the number in, and her thumb had been hovering above the call button for almost five minutes straight when her phone started to ring, startling her, and she dropped it.

Blocked number.

Frank.

“Happy birthday”, he said in her ear when she picked up.

“Didn’t think you knew”, she said back, almost regretting taking the call, because his voice made her miss him immediately, desperately, her lungs threatened to collapse, so much she missed him.

“Give me some credit, Kare.”

He was in Nevada, he told her, and she didn’t ask if he was there chasing the New York gangster that was tending to business in Vegas, and he didn’t volunteer that information.

They talked for maybe five minutes before saying good night, and she wondered if that was the last she was going to hear from him, if this had been his way of saying goodbye.

But he called the next night. From Utah, this time, and his voice was a bit different.

They talked for ten minutes, and he asked about work, if she was ok, but he sounded tired, so she asked if he was ok.

“Drove all day”, he said, and Karen wondered if he was getting ready to sleep, too, like she was.

He texted from Wyoming, because she was already in a call when he tried, so he sent one word, that she saw when she hung up:

“Busy?”

It was after midnight when she fell asleep, picturing him in the motel room he told her he was sleeping that night.

When he was in Iowa, he asked about Wilson Fisk, and the Bulletin, and his voice sounded harsh.

When he told her he was in Kansas, she tried not to let her voice betray her disappointment. All this time, she allowed herself to imagine he was making his way back.

To her.

But there was Kansas, and then he stayed in Louisiana for a while. From there, he called from a different number, and told her to throw away the old one, even if she was never the one to call. It was always him, and she learned to expect those calls, always after dark, always after she was tucked in bed, never on a Friday or on weekends.

Frank would always call her on Wednesdays or Thursdays.

.:.

He was in Tennessee, she thinks, when she called him, on a Tuesday, and they talked like they weren’t who they were. Light and soft and she allowed that lilt to her voice, the pointless question just to keep him speaking, the nonsensical comment and the joke that just might be a little, tiny bit, blink and you’ll miss it flirty.

Karen had the ritual, now, of getting home, eating, showering, turning off all the lights and then picking up his call, and he started to call more frequently, started to tell her a little bit about what he was doing, and she was glad to hear it was not more killing.

He was in Chicago when he said he missed her. It was almost December, and she said she missed him, too, her toes curling inside the thick socks she had on.

Every night, now, that’s how he ended their calls.

“Miss you”. Always soft, always careful, like he was afraid she would hang up on him a few seconds too early.

“Miss you, too”, she always responded.

.:.

He stayed in Chicago so long, she thought he was not gonna leave. He was there when the year ended, and she was on the phone with him while people counted down.

It was 00:01 when he said he missed her, making her wish she were in bed and not in Foggy’s apartment, surrounded by people, listening as the fireworks went off.

“Miss you, too”, she said, like always, taking a risk, really, because this time Matt was right there, with his superhearing and tendency to meddle. With an eye on her friend, just to make sure, she heard Frank take a deep breath, but he didn’t hang up, like always.

“I miss you”, he said again, low and short but firm, clear, and, again, she responded.

“I miss you, too.”

.:.

After Chicago, she lost track of both time and his location. He still told her where he was, but she made a point not to keep track anymore, because he was not coming back to her, so it was best to just let him be, and enjoy what little contact she had with him with these calls.

But even that, she knew, would have to end eventually.

But everytime her phone rang, and it was dark and quiet outside, she would hesitate for one second before picking up, sliding into bed and closing her eyes, imagining him to be there by her side.

And, every night:

“Miss you.”

.:.

This was not Josie’s, nor was it the diner they usually went to after work, it was not their usual scene. But Foggy seemed to know the guy behind the counter - like he knew everyone, apparently.

It was not better than Josie’s, but it was bigger than Josie’s. There was a small stage where a band played, and it was a little strange, seeing all these rough guys and rough women listening to what sounded like a hybrid of blues and ballads with a dash of country, soft and melodic and beautiful.

Foggy wallowed and he drank and he let it out, venting about how he didn’t really think he’d be here, because he wasn’t even sure what he had done (but he knew, he just didn’t know how to get out of it).

“What should I do, K?”

“Well, first, you’re gonna stop calling me K.”

He did that when he was drunk.

“Why is she so mad?!”

“Because, Foggy, you lied to her.”

“I didn’t lie! I just… Omitted the whole truth in order to protect both her physical integrity and her feelings!”

“Next time, maybe, instead of pulling this patronizing behavior, take it into consideration that she is also a very good professional that can help you. Marci’s a big girl, Fog, you don’t have to lie to keep her safe.”

“I know”, he said, forehead on the counter again, and Karen wondered if it was actually sticky of if she was just imagining it. “Shit, I know. But she won’t talk to me, so I have no way of apologizing. Will!”

The bartender made his way to them, looking both amused and impatient.

“More spirits, please.”

“Don’t you think a Sprite would be better?”

“No!”

Will looked at Karen, who shrugged, and then sighed, walking over to refresh Foggy’s glass.

And that’s when Karen saw him, suddenly, as if her eyes were being drawn like magnets, there he was, instead of Massachusetts or Ohio or Indiana or China, for that matter. And he looked back at her, that small, sheepish smile playing on his features, almost like he was a normal man, a normal guy coming back home to his… Whatever it was that she was to him.

“I don’t know what to do, K.” Foggy whined on after taking a sip of his fresh drink, dropping his head to the bar again right after. “She’s so mad at me, and I don’t even know how to fix it.”

She was barely comprehending him anymore, so stunned she was at the sight of Frank standing there.

Son of a bitch. First he rips her heart out of her chest just to break it, and then leaves, and then…

“You do know what to do, Foggy. You just have to… Suck it up and do it, even if sounds hard, right now.”

“But she’s so scary.”

“No, she’s not. She’s just frustrated, because you fucked up. But she loves you. You have to go there, apologize and try to fix it.”

“How do I fix it?”

“I don’t know! You’ll have to figure this one out by yourself. Or, better yet, ask her for help, I doubt she’s gonna deny it. Can you excuse me for one minute, please?”

“Are you gonna leave me, too?” he asked, big eyes on her, so drunk, poor thing.

“No, Fog, relax. I’m just gonna go to the restroom, that’s all.”

“Oh, ok”, he said, but she was already moving, walking towards the direction she had seen him, and when she turned a corner, there he was, almost hidden, waiting for her.

A million things, she wanted to say to him. A million and one, but she started with the basics while he leaned off the wall and took a step towards her.

“What are you doing here?”

His finger pushing a lock of her hair away from her face felt like a mild current, something charged but soft, creating a wave of pleasantness to pass through her.

“Wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me. Jesus Christ, Frank, I should shoot you where you stand!”, she let out, slapping a hand on his chest when he lifted both his hands to catch her face. And she might as well have tickled him, because he smiled.

“Please don’t.”

Karen looked at him, trying to tell herself that this was not what she thought it was. Maybe he needed her help again, and this was just another stunt he pulled to get her attention.

But he had never looked at her like this, not quite like this, he had never held her face between his hands like this, he had never stood this close, never like this, never when it’s not dangerous, never…

“I miss you”, he whispered, forehead touching hers, nose touching her cheek, breathing quietly against her. “Everyday, Kare, I miss you.”

She had her eyes closed already, a part of her enjoying, ready to jump, begging to surrender, to latch on, to believe him, she wanted to believe him so bad, she did believe him, but-

“Where have you been, then?”

“Making sure. Trying to… Get better, to figure out some things.”

He kissed her cheek and she got a hold of his shirt, honestly and sincerely unintentionally pulling, and he got closer, chest to chest toe to toe and her knees were about to give.

“Mainly missing you, though.”

Karen angled her head when he moved his hand to the back of her neck, opening her mouth to say something, to take a breath in, to let a breath out or to scream, who knows, but he kissed her, lips over hers, making a noise from his throat that made her arch her back slightly, just a tiny bit, towards him, which in turn made him move, open his mouth, swipe his tongue against her lip and then against hers, and there it was again, that cotton electricity, that feeling of finally, this is what you’ve been waiting for, this is it, that’s why you fought so hard that’s why you cried so much that’s why you miss him so much-

He kissed her like he had done it before, like he knew her, like he knew them, and it felt new but it felt… God, it felt…

It felt like them. Like Frank and Karen, like their thing that she could never explain to anybody, “why do you care so much about Frank Castle?” and “you two have a connection”.

That’s what it felt like. Obvious but private, particular and unexplainable, his kisses and his hands around her, her arms around him, her back against a wall, suddenly.

“Wait wait wait”, she said against his mouth, and he touched his forehead to hers yet one more time - just like they do - and hummed his question.

“Foggy, uh… Foggy’s gonna come looking for me. He tends to wander when he’s drunk, I should… I should get back.”

“Ok.”

And a nibble on her lower lip, chest pressed tight against hers, Lord almighty, she’ll fight the world for him-

“Ok, let me go.”

It was difficult, giving that up. Peeling herself away from him and that little corner he had backed them up against. She had repressed those kind of thoughts for so long, trying to get used to the fact that there is no Frank and Karen, but yes, there is, he’s here, he’s-

She pushed him away delicately, and he went easily enough, letting go of her lips last.

“Where, um…” Her thoughts, all over the place. “You’re not, you’re… Where are you going, now?”

“No plans”, and another little one, tiny one, just a little one kiss, to the very corner of her mouth. “So wherever you tell me to go, I guess.”

It seemed impossible, to stop kissing him, but then the image of Foggy wandering after her and catching her all tangled up in Frank Castle entered her mind, and she pushed him away again.

“Ok. Ok. Um… Go to my apartment. Ok? Can you wait for me there?”

He nodded, looking at her full of something that was almost completely foreign. Like that other time he was at her place offering her flowers, or when he met her by the water, before it turned dark and sour and difficult.

“Right. I’ll put Foggy in a cab, and then I’ll meet you there.”

“Ok.”

Looking at his face, she tried to put herself right, to go back to Foggy, the tip of her fingers roaming Frank’s face.

“Please be there when I arrive. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Go.”

Her arms around his neck, just one more time, just one more, just so she didn’t walk away and started wondering if she imagined him, and his were firm enough around her waist to reassure her.

“Right”, she said, pushing him off and walking away.

Before she actually let go of his hand, though, she turned back.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Um… Lieberman.”

“Lieber- You hacked my phone?”

“Not your phone, just your GPS.”

“That-” She interrupted herself, and took a short breath. “We’re gonna talk about that.”

“I’m sure we are.”

And then she walked away, feeling like she just had been in another dimension and then back.

“I drank your drink” Foggy informed her when she sat by his side again. “It was getting cold.”

“That’s fine, Fog. What do you say we head home? Hmm? Sleep this booze off so you can go and talk to Marci tomorrow?”

“But I…” He sighed, and Karen tried not to look at where Frank had been. “But we haven’t found the worm, yet.”

“I think it’s better if we don’t find it this time. Come on.”

He still made her sit down to finish another drink - “last call, come on” - and she had to hear him mumbling about Marci and some nonsensical thing about Matt and the Nelson deli and Punjabi lessons before he accepted it was time to go.

She took care of their tab while he drank from the bottle of water she got for him and tried to put his jacket back on.

After what seemed like a lifetime, she was able to put him in a cab and then hail one for herself.

Karen had just turned the kew on her lock a second time when she heard the bolt unlock from inside, and then the door knob was yanked away from her hand when the door swung open, and Frank pulled her inside, slamming it closed the second he was in, his arms around her, his mouth on hers, lips and teeth and tongue and that noise from his throat, hands pulling her shirt from inside her skirt, she kicked her shoes off, put her arms around his neck, opened her mouth to his kiss, made a noise of her own.

She had missed him, too. Much, much more than even she realized.

#kastle #writing #Hell's Kitchen's Chronicles #drabble #Frank Castle #Karen Page #superrpowerlesshuman

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mygangtome · 5 years

Text

Five BBCRH Things We Can’t Stop Talking About, and One We’d Really, Really Rather Not Ever Have Mentioned

You Knew This Was Coming

Okay. Okay, dear tumblr user, if I’m going to do this post, I’m going to need a drink [and someone to pay for said drink -Nell]. Hang on.

pictured: @nettlestonenell, left, and the author, right

Okay. Proceed.

There’s a lot to love about this show; the fact that we’re doing this day, thirteen years later, proves that the fans never shut up about it. But there are also things that we don’t talk about, things we deny ever happened, things that are, for whatever reason, collectively retconned. Whether it’s bad writing, or poor decisions, or a good story choice that just bums us out will always be up for debate. But what’s not up for debate is that they are incredibly angsty.

And we all know how Tumblr loves angst.

[visual representation of the above condition. - Nell]

So hey, maybe this is the thing that’ll spur you to watch it. Maybe you’ve already watched it (in which case, WHY AM I STILL WRITING THESE) and we can all remember and grieve together; a sort of collective catharsis. But let’s take this moment, on the day we remember the outlaws, to remember the ones we lost along the way.

Here be so many, many spoilers. Cue the music.

I’m Not Being Funny, But This Isn’t Funny

pictured: i’m not sure i can do funny captions for this tbh [That’s okay, I’ve stopped reading since my brain fails to recognize this event as ever having happened, and I’ve actually blacked-out -Nell]

Oh, Allan, sweetheart, you deserved better than this.

If I’m being honest, many fans refuse to admit that any part of Season 3 happened - which is a shame, as it means that you miss out on Kate and her exceptional hairstyles, and David Harewood as Tuck, and most important of all, Toby Stephens as the best, hammiest, campest Prince John ever cast - due to What Happened At The End Of Season 2. More on that later. But even those brave folks who do enjoy Season 3 shrink at What Happened To Allan.

ALLAN: None of you? … Not one of you believes me?

A young man trudges through the forest, alone and afraid and abandoned. His friends are convinced he has betrayed them, due to scheming by the new sheriff - and aren’t they quick to jump to conclusions, suddenly? Nobody will take his word that he would die rather than betray them; angry and hurt and unwilling to stay here and be punished for a crime he didn’t commit, he escapes. In his attempt to get somewhere safe, he stumbles across something that could change the course of the battle - something Robin cannot possibly know.

Nobody would blame Allan, here and now, at the end of things, if he just left. Robin doesn’t trust him - why should he help Robin?

But he doesn’t. He turns, and he runs. His first thought is of his friends.

It is also his last thought.

Arrows fly over his head from a force we do not see. One hits him in the calf. He cries out in pain and staggers, but still he runs, desperate to save the gang. Another hits him in the shoulder, and still he runs. Then finally, one final arrow hits him in the small of the back, and he falls to the ground, gasping for air.

And still he tries. He crawls on his hands and knees, dragging his dying body - though he must know it is hopeless now. He is still crawling when a pair of boots step in front of him, and he looks up into the face of his killer.

ALLAN: You?

We do not get to see the moment of his death. He gets no final speech; no chance to say goodbye. We do not even know if is the arrows that kill him, or if it is a blow from Vaisey’s sword, or some other, crueler trick. We know simply that Allan died alone, and he died bravely.

And he died in the penultimate bloody episode. [Pretty sure that’s both a literal and idiomatic use of ‘bloody’, there. - Nell]

Now, this is supposed to be a day for celebrating Robin Hood, so I’ll hold back on my anger. Suffice to say - while his death saddens me, the manner of his death and how it is treated saddens me far more.

We don’t talk about Allan’s death. [Just try making a gifset about it and watch as no one reblogs it. - Nell]

We Were Fighters, And I’m Proud

pictured: i do love this dress [And yet it sends me looking for the lint roller everytime. - Nell]

Marian is, as I’ve said before, a hero. She is as much as a hero as Robin - she has been fighting for the common folk long before Robin even thought of camping in the woods and becoming a nuisance. She is kind and brave and strong, and she is stubborn and hotheaded and reckless. She shows love to everyone, even those who hurt her. And she will never, ever back down from a fight.

It makes sense, then, that she would die the same way she lived - but that doesn’t make us any happier about it.

A man - a king - lies bleeding on the ground in Jerusalem, at the mercy of a man in black, who advances on him with sword drawn. A young woman, clad all in white, her hair loose about her shoulders, screams his name, and stops him in his tracks. She throws herself in front of the king.

MARIAN: Stop! It’s over, Guy!

GUY: Get out of the way.

MARIAN: All of this time, I’ve been fighting for England. Do you think I’m going to let you kill England?

GUY screams in anger and slashes his sword towards her. She steps back, but remains in front of the king.

GUY: GET OUT OF THE WAY.

MARIAN: (defiant) You’ll have to kill me first.

The man bellows at her; he is mad with rage, and he tells her with fire in his eyes that she needs to stand aside so he can do his job, that he’s doing this so they can be together - that she needs to be a good woman, and let the men fight. And Marian - brave, brilliant Marian - laughs. Her face lights up as she thinks of the man she loves.

pictured: i can be your hero, baby

MARIAN: I would rather die than marry you, Guy. I’m going to marry Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood.

MARIAN laughs again, quietly, and looks proud.

I love Robin Hood.

And Guy of Gisborne stabs her in the stomach.

It is not important what Guy does after that, or what happens with the King. We don’t remember that. What we remember is the sound of Robin screaming her name as he watches her fall. We remember that the first thing she says when he cradles her in his arms is ‘Where’s the King?’, because her mission is the most important thing. We remember her realisation that this is a death sentence, and the look in her eyes as she learns that Djaq cannot save her. And we remember that she tells Robin to keep fighting.

The lovers wed, there on the dry earth of that town square with tears in their eyes, and they have their first kiss as man and wife. It’s beautiful, and powerful, and devastating. And Marian pulls out the sword, screams in pain, and she dies.

And for a lot of people, so does the show. [Frankly, Robin would also agree with this sentiment. - Nell]

Again, I’m not here to preach, or to hate on this show that we love so much. But if there’s one thing we’d like to forget, every one of us, it’s that the female lead was killed - and the two male leads got a big load of angst for the next series. Whether they intended it or not, there’s a term for that, and it’s not a complimentary one. And there’s also a fair amount to be said about the fact that the BBC broadcast this pre-watershed at Christmas time, and a lot of children were devastated.

These are not the only deaths in Robin Hood. [But] They are the ones that get ignored the most, because they’re generally considered to be the most unfair - not just upsetting, but genuinely wrong for the show. [It’s a show that] massacres the cast with tremendous enthusiasm - from Roy’s death in the first few episodes to the deaths of virtually everyone* [Dan Scarlett, my Templar husband, Carter - Nell] (Guy, the Sheriff, Isabella, and even Robin himself) in the finale. But as sad as all of those (well, most of those) were, they don’t get us the same way these two do. It certainly doesn’t help that Will and Djaq, two other fan favourites, disappear along with Marian.

There’s a lot of things we’ll never shut up about with Robin Hood. There’s a reason we love it.

But there’s a reason for all the fanfic.

Happy Robin Hood Awareness Day, one and all. May the year be kinder to us all than 1193 was to the outlaws.

I’ll have that drink now. [Oh, I’d started just after reading the header... - Nell]

#bbc robin hood #robin hood #robin hood bbc #my gang to me 2019 #bbcrh #season 2 #season 3 #lady marian #alan a dale #robin/marian #submission #tw:death #lots of it #actually #interestinggin

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softboyholland · 7 years

Note

so I know you haven’t written for miraculous ladybug for a long time but how do you think a spideychelle au would be like with them. At school Michelle pines over an oblivious Peter but on the streets she finds Spider-Man like every other inconvenience in her life that keeps her away from saving the city. Reluctantly she works w him despite his terrible one-liners. Lots of love xxxxxx :)

i’ve never actually written for miraculous ladybug before, i don’t even watch the show but i know i’ve reblogged a couple of gifsets and fanart of the main ship so maybe that’s where you got that from. anyway, this is a great prompt and i’ll try to write it as best as i can with what you’ve given me!

in a world where new york has two teenage superheroes,

one who climbs walls and shoots webs and pokes fun at the bad guys, and works around queens and calls himself spider-man

another one who’s agile and quick and an expert at hand-to-hand combat, blink and you’ll miss her because she blends right in, one who parades around brooklyn in a halloween cat costume and insists that she’s the patriarchy punisher even though everyone calls her catgirl

they both have secret identities that no one knows of,

and they’re both not exactly fond of each other

who would’ve thought?

michelle jones who has an enormous infatuation with peter parker, hated his alter ego before her crush on him even began

it all started when michelle saw a couple of guys following a girl down the street

so she put on her suit, steeled herself and stopped them from doing whatever they were going to do to her as they cornered her in an alley

she knocked out two guys and was telling the victim, the girl, to run

to get the hell out of there

however, michelle didn’t notice the last crook reaching out for her, almost hungrily

peter, or well, spider-man, did notice

he swung into the scene with a, “oh no, you don’t!’

he shot a web at the guy’s shoulder and knocked him against the brick wall

catgirl, turned around, “thank you, tarantula, but i had that.”

“actually, it’s-”

“yeah, i know what it is.”

and she climbed onto a nearby roof and snuck away without another word

you could only imagine michelle’s surprise the next morning, when her alter ego had made the front page of the newspapers

there were two pictures; one was of her sneaking into the night, and another was of a handwritten note from spider-man which said ‘this couple of bad guys were following a girl. - from your superheroes, spider-man and catgirl.’

and that was that

because from then on, everyone started calling her catgirl, which she was NOT, she was the patriarchy punisher!

and she would tell them that, but of course, no one listened

back at school though, her classmates, especially the girls, were obsessed with catgirl.

the hype for spider-man had gone down and michelle had smirked at that

even midtown’s resident nerd duo, were gushing over her from across the table in whispers

“could you keep it down, nerds? i’m trying to read here.”

“right, sorry, mj.”

they were terrified of her and that entertained her

and well, about her crush on peter parker, she had tried to fight it, she really did

but liz had to go and make her captain and that meant spending more time telling peter to get his grades up and to stop being a flake and that lead to her tutoring peter for english lit every wednesday after school

and well, feelings

but whatever

she knew that peter wasn’t into her

he had a type and his type was girls like liz, and gwen stacy and well, just Not Her

but they were pretty decent friends, they weren’t as close as she was with ned, or as he was with ned but they were ok

anyway, back to the catgirl vs spider-man dilemma

so anyway, spider-man isn’t really,,,,fond of her because when everyone started calling her catgirl, she started patrolling around queens more

and that meant that peter was always five seconds too late

she would get to the criminals first and smirk at spider-man

so one day, as she was trying out her brand new suit which was basically a skin-tight black suit that made her even more invisible with her regular ol black combat boots

spider-man cornered her

“listen, lady, you gotta stop.”

“stop what?”

spider-man paused but then shook his head, “you’ve been taking all my bad guys.”

“well, that’s what you get for making the whole of new york city call me catgirl!”

“you didn’t tell me your name!”

“but you just had to add me to the note, didn’t ya?”

“ok, i don’t like you as much as i did when i first met you.” spider-man blurts and michelle smirks

she wears makeup under the cat (shut up, it’s not a cat, she’s still figuring it out) mask, so that she’s unnoticable

and spider-man nearly DIES when her red-painted lips smirk

“so, you liked me?”

“that is HARDLY the point here.”

and something about the suit gives her confidence so she steps closer as seductively as she can, “and what is the point, spider-man?”

she’s never called him that before

it’s always taunting and teasing and nicknames and anything BUT spider-man and now he’s frozen

she laughs and leaves him frozen on the rooftop

“men.”

and how ironic is it that the next day in school, peter is the one who leaves her frozen

he catches her staring at him in pe and ned says something stupid to her with a smirk on his face but she isn’t paying attention because her whole mind is screaming “ABORT MISSION” and peter’s holding her gaze and for the first time, she’s the one to look away

OH MY GOD

and she avoids them for the next two days out of embarassment and ned texts her to come over to his house for movie night

and she does, only to find out that the address is actually to peter’s apartment and it’s movie night with peter, ned and mj!

wonderful

of course, halfway through the movie when it all seems like it’s going well, peter flexes more than he should to grab the mug thats in front of her

she looks at ned, who looks like he might burst from holding in his giggles and then peter’s bringing his bicep right up to her face and flexing it

she pushes it away and uses the pillow to cover her eyes, lying down on the couch with her legs in peter’s lap, “you’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

then, peter’s the one to start giggling and michelle thinks she’s never seen something melt her heart so fast so she throws a pillow at peter, her eyes still shut and she says, “i hate you both.”

and peter, ned, and mj become closer and soon, movie nights are a thing and eventually, ned learns that mj’s crush on peter is pretty legit and he tries to wingman as best as he can

meanwhile, mj has gained an unlikely partner during her after school activities

she seems to bump heads with spider-man everytime she’s got a solid crime to go after

and reluctantly, they learn to work together

and well, he’s not all that bad but he’s so irritatingly c o c k y, and so flirty and he just reminds her of a less charming, more irritating flynn rider

of course, he still has unbelievably lame puns and one-liners that make her want to rip her hair out but her favourite part of it all is watching him get flustered every time she does so much as suggest something flirty or make an innuendo

there was that time when they were in the middle of arguing as they were tying/webbing up the bad guys and he had accidentally webbed her wrist to a wall and she had smirked, “kinky.”

he had gotten flustered but then she threatened to destroy his web shooters with her bare hands if he didnt get her out of them immediately

and that was basically it

she went to school, sat with peter and ned, obsessed a little over peter, corrected mr cobwell whenever his history was wrong, had decathlon practice, rolled her eyes at flash, went home, did her homework, changed into her suit and gone out, flirted with spider-man, threatened spider-man

and that was her whole day

and everything seemed fine until one day ned exclaimed, “i can’t take this anymore! mj, peter has a crush on someone else. like a major crush.”

mj’s whole body had deflated but she pretended like she didn’t care because peter would never actually Like her and she always knew that

“who does he like?”

“he uh, he has a crush on a superhero,”

“ned, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“no, but it’s like a serious crush, and he’s met her before because of the stark internship and they know each other pretty well.”

“well,” michelle crossed her arms, “i don’t care.”

“yeah you do.”

“fine, who is it?”

“it’s catgirl.”

and-

and well.

michelle’s first instinct was to correct ned, say that she was actually called the patriarchy punisher.

and then, it hit her.

and oh boy, did it hit her.

because her co-worker, the boy she’s been flirting and teasing and also irritating to no end, was the same boy she was hopelessly crushing on.

#spider-man: homecoming #petermj #spideychelle #peter parker x michelle jones #spideychelle headcanon #spideychelle fanfiction #peter and michelle

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wackygoofball · 7 years

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Gifset: Jaime x Brienne - Traveler AU

Jaime Lannister, manager and right-hand man to the CEO of the company, his father Tywin, lives a life that goes its course almost entirely by itself. From the early beginnings of his life, he was framed to, one day, inherit his father’s “family empire.” And Jaime never bothered, really, being a natural in what it takes to fill in such a position. It just seemed like the most natural conclusion to go with the flow.

Nothing out of the ordinary happens – until it does.

A car accident right outside the family company’s office building leaves Jaime’s right hand permanently damaged. And this experience shows Jaime one thing: He didn’t witness anything exciting, anything extraordinary, and almost died not having achieved much of anything outside the family business.

At first, he is simply depressed, caves in at home, does not show up at work, is done with life. But then, perhaps by a wink of fate, Jaime finds an old map, from the last holiday he took when he was still in college, and bought himself a ticket to Lys out of the blue. He almost completely forgot over business life that this was his last actual holiday, and a good one, actually. And as he sits there, going back over some of the good old memories, Jaime has to realize that he hasn’t taken any time for himself, hasn’t traveled – beside for work – in ages.

In a cloak-and-dagger operation, Jaime buys backpack, boots, tent, and whatever else he can gather, only to wind up by the Citizens Advice Bureau first chance he has to get the papers needed. After that, Jaime takes a taxi to King’s Landing Airport and wants to board the next-best plane he can catch, much to the irritation of the woman sitting behind the counter.

When asked to where he would like to go, Jaime simply replies, “Doesn’t matter. Just away from here. So long I can fly right now, I don’t care what the location is.”

And so, Jaime finds himself walking on Dornish soil soon thereafter.

Already at the airport, as he waits for his luggage to arrive, Jaime gets one confused phone call after the other from his family members, asking him where he is.

“Dorne. What would you want to do in Dorne?!”

“Making holidays,” Jaime replies simply, again and again.

“And you couldn’t have told anyone beforehand?”

“I got the last ticket.”

“When are you going to come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! But Jaime…”

“As I said, I don’t know, and my bag just arrived. I am hanging up now, bye.”

Jaime reckons that the vacation will do him good, but he soon grows dissatisfied. Doing the usual tourist routines has him rather annoyed. Even the prospect of seeing some of the most beautiful sights Dorne has to offer has Jaime shockingly little excited. He thought that this would be it, that this is what he is seeking, but… it’s not.

The realization comes to Jaime one late night, watching a travel documentary on a small TV in his hotel room: He doesn’t need vacation, he needs to travel.

Thus, Jaime gets himself on a ferry to the Stepstones, from the Stepstones to the Grey Gallows, and from the Grey Gallows to Tyrosh, and so forth. On the way, Jaime buys himself a bunch of disposable cameras to take pictures with, and begins to do something that he didn’t do ever since the accident, namely to write – in a leather journal he bought on a small market in Dorne.

After all, no one is going to read his chicken scratch other than him.

However, not all is rosy on that journey, because Jaime has to realize far sooner than later that walking into this completely unprepared comes with a certain kind of thrill, but also a lot of troubles. Ending up in rat holes of hotels, having to camp out in the wilderness when the motels are all overbooked, only to realize that he never put up a tent in his life and thus failing miserably at the task, are only some of the troubles he encounters on that vacation.

At the same time, Jaime is thrilled to see all those new places, meet all sorts of people, taste different foods, and make experiences he never would have made, had he stayed home.

During his stay at Braavos, something catches his interest as he visits the Titan of Braavos, because there is one person in the mass of tourists taking pictures of the statue and following tourist guides around like geese, who seems not at all interested in the monument. The tall woman with blonde hair has not taken a single picture of the statue, Jaime observed, but instead took out her camera to take pictures of rather queer things, at least to Jaime’s mind: An ice cream cone dropped on the ground seems to have her particular interest.

Jaime feels very tempted to talk to her, but as he is about to do it, a youngster falls off the Titan’s toe after he had to climb on top of the statue, and everyone starts to fuss, so that Jaime loses the blonde woman in the crowd.

He travels to the next location, though the woman with brilliant blue eyes and an odd taste in objects of interest, remains on his mind all the while.

After a quite desperate phone call from his younger brother Tyrion, Jaime reluctantly agrees to check on his emails. For that matter, he gets into an internet café, because Jaime cannot properly read mails on his phone, and he purposely left his computer at home before he went on his vacation. After a quick check-in with reality awaiting him back home, Jaime decides that he is not yet ready to succumb to that life again, so he closes the tab and instead decides to use his remaining time at the café to browse the internet for traveler advices, groaning at some things he could easily have prevented, had he bothered to read up on the matter before just boarding a flight to Dorne.

In the course of his research, Jaime stumbles over a blog named The Traveler’s Guide of the Other Kind. And compared to most blogs he scrolled through, which were mostly focused on the person and his or her experiences, lots of pictures with nice InstaBran filters and what not, this blog’s title holds true. This one does not feature any pictures… of the person who is running this blog, let alone clues about his or her identity.

However, the blog is even more curious, because it doesn’t talk about what food to get where, or what sights are worth the voyage. Instead, the blog entries are largely about “The Small Things,” about sunsets in certain locations and at what times the light is the best, quite witty comments on the masses of people all doing the same thing “in strange sort of rituals, hailing statues, bridges, castles, and churches of faiths they do not even partake in, and all that with cameras and selfie sticks,” little anecdotes about people the author saw and observed, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes rather romantic.

Jaime would love to go on, but apparently, he kept reading the blog so long that the internet café is closing for the day. Nevertheless, he remains intrigued, so Jaime starts scrolling through the text posts on his phone once returned to his shabby motel.

Lying on his back in bed, he continues reading the posts that keep captivating him, finding it almost hilarious that some of the experiences and impressions written are so close to his own. Jaime drops his phone right in his face as it literally hits him that the author of the blog apparently features an entry on “The Tristful Chronicles of a Braavosi Ice Cream Cone,” with a picture of a dropped ice cream cone at the top, matching both the day and the location when Jaime saw that tall blonde woman taking pictures of that ice cream cone on the ground.

Jaime reckons that if he took the risk to abandon his entire life to go travelling, he might just as well take the risk to reach out to that woman who has been flitting across his mind ever since he saw her in Braavos.

What is the worse that can happen, right?

Thus, Jaime tries to type a comment, but ends up pushing the SEND-button before he could double-check, thus sending a message that is filled with typos and some really odd wordings. “Stupid hand!” Meanwhile, in a hotel room on New Ghis, Brienne is surprised to get a new comment on her “The Tristful Chronicles of a Braavosi Ice Cream Cone” entry, which did not have too many readers at all.

Not that Brienne bothers. She didn’t start the blog to gain followers, but simply wanted to have a place to gather her thoughts at. The message she receives now has her rather baffled, because… typos and rather a lot of gibberish stuffed into a short comment, but still readable enough for her to understand that the person who wrote this saw her back at the Titan and wondered until s/he found this blog what was so interesting about that ice cream cone.

Brienne is a bit shocked: She never posts pictures of herself, for the plain reason that she is ugly and doesn’t like to have her picture taken anyway. The thought that someone may out her is somewhat frightening to Brienne. After all, she tries to stay anonymous, just travels around, merges in with the background to observe.

Yet, she cannot resist replying, very cautiously so. However, to her even greater surprise, Brienne gets a reply almost instantly, and then another, and another, and she ends writing back each time.

Jaime and Brienne eventually message each other over the private message tool of the blog, which allows them to communicate more privately, discussing their travelling experiences, to where they have already gone, etc.

Sometime later, almost by accident, they find out that they are currently in the same location. So Jaime takes a chance and suggests to meet.

Brienne almost falls off her chair once she reads that message. Because that never happened, and she believed it impossible anyway. Brienne replies, truthfully, that she has to catch a flight that same day, later that evening. Jaime replies instantly that he wouldn’t care.

“We can meet up as long as we can until you have to fly again, I don’t mind.”

And so, they meet. The first handshake is all kinds of awkward once it dawns on them that they are two strangers who decided to meet based on some shared travel experiences. The beginning of the conversation is rather rocky, but once they start talking about journeys again, the two somehow ease into the situation. Jaime eventually find the courage to ask Brienne about why she takes those rather odd pictures and why they are the focus of her online travel guide. And so, Brienne explains: “To me, travelling is about seeing places, about witnessing them. And that is more than tasting the food, looking at the statues, the churches. It’s about watching people interact, about seeing children climb on top what is considered a cultural good. It’s about lost ice cream cones. Couples breaking up and proposing to one another in the cheesiest of ways. You know, I could have done it like most others do, focus on the obvious, the conventional. But I like to think that… that there is something beautiful in the unconventional, just like it is in what seems to be utterly unimportant because it is so very conventional.“

Jaime is thrilled about what he hears.

Suddenly, Brienne gets a call that her normal flight is going to be cancelled, but that she can still catch an earlier flight if she gets to the airport within two hours. Brienne excuses herself, explaining that she always wanted to see Old Valyria at the season, and knows she won’t catch a flight until they close down for the year. Jaime tells her that it’s fine and that he perfectly understands. Brienne is very apologetic – and a bit mournful because she can’t remember the last time she enjoyed a date that much.

As they prepare to part, Jaime tells her that he will be waiting for the next log entry on Old Valyria. Brienne gathers all of her confidence to offer him her telephone number, which Jaime takes more than gladly. The two part with a another awkward handshake, though really, they can’t help but think about one another once they are out of each other’s sight. Despite the fact that both are too stubborn to admit it.

And so, their journeys go separate ways again. Jaime wants to head further North while Brienne ventures through Old Valyria. Jaime is pleased to read an entry that alludes to their meeting and even a quote by him from their conversation. The two now start to talk over the phone, and as they continue travelling, try to beat one another in most unconventional places to have found, most curious experiences to have witnessed, or weirdest people they met, etc.

"Some boys like a challenge…”

They accidentally meet up again at an airport after both had their flights cancelled, so they are stuck for the night. The two are not sure whether to shake hands or hug, so yeah, it is awkward. They decide to get some drinks at the bar to pass the time. Jaime and Brienne come to talk about his injury and how that was the starting point for him to start that journey. Brienne lets on that she decided that it was time that she left home after Renly died and she had caved in at home far too long that it had her father worried.

“Sometimes you have to leave to find your way back home… I hope, at least.”

Once it’s time to say goodbye, Jaime suggests as casually as he can that they may want to try to end up in the same location some time, surprised when Brienne instantly recounts to where she is going and in what order, only to break out laughing when Jaime takes out his worn journal to see about his flight plans.

“Now, that is what I call old-fashioned,” she snorts.

"I call it traditional. Not all of us run fancy blogs, you know.”

“Well, blogs are also already outdated. Now it’s InstaBran stories that count. So perhaps we have something in common in that regard after all.”

They figure that the location following their next ones actually matches, so Jaime and Brienne agree to a “travel date.”

Then, at last, the time has come, and they are in the same location. They meet up at the airport, get themselves rooms in the same hotel. The two are thrilled to discover just how much they actually have in common, making their very own tours, discussing their boring jobs and their exciting journeys, sharing takeaway in hotel rooms, and watching sunsets in the most curious of places together.

Jaime still can’t believe himself that he just follows through with this new kind of life, almost eloping with a woman he barely knows but feels as though he has known her for years already. He wouldn’t have done things in that way back in the “old life.”

And for Brienne, it’s also the first time she even considered a man in that way after Renly’s death.

Of course, they continue to challenge one another. Jaime has to do things with his right arm upon her insistence, while Jaime takes out his “even more old-fashioned than the journal” disposable camera and challenges Brienne to have him take her picture, one of which he secretly adds to his journal.

And on a journey of self-discovery, they discover each other, eventually giving in to their undeniable attraction for one another. The two want to go on travelling, but eventually decide to go together, rearranging plans so that they can take the same route.

It is like a journey to heaven. Seeing different places, kissing under sights, taking pictures of the small things, reading through each other’s log entries, even lying next to each other in shabby hotel rooms with uncomfortable mattresses feels divine.

However, the journey comes to a sudden halt when Jaime runs into Tyrion, who has tracked him down upon their father’s order, explaining to the older brother that Tywin’s patience has worn thin and that if Jaime does not return any time soon, he will no longer provide for Jaime’s travelling – or anything else for the matter.

“And he is serious, I am telling you.”

Heartbroken, Jaime talks to Brienne about the latest revelation, but he is surprised that she shows such great understanding for his situation, even encouraging him to go back home. “You are loyal to your family. I am loyal to my father. I get this, I do, Jaime. We don’t get to choose.”

While both say that they can meet up again and that Brienne may want to travel to Casterly Rock some time soon, both know that their travel romance has come to an abrupt end.

Begrudgingly, Jaime makes his way back into the old life, feeling utterly miserable about himself, which does not go unnoticed by his younger brother Tyrion, though he does not know about Jaime’s heartache for his former travelling companion, because the older brother did not want to involve Brienne into his family’s mess any more than he already did.

Brienne is not faring much better. Her thoughts revolve around Jaime all the while, too, which she realizes in a number of posts she deletes that almost exclusively speak of heartache and Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. She has to realize that being alone and anonymous is not that great when you finally found someone who knows and understands you. Then, being alone and unconventional seems to ring so hollow.

Back in King’s Landing, Tyrion discovers his brother’s journal eventually.

After some serious deciphering of the chicken scratch, Tyrion must say that Jaime’s journal is an entertaining read, if not a profitable one. He gets into contact with publishers, and they seem to share his opinion, because it is only a little while from now that Jaime’s journal entries are getting published as a travel guide – after some just as serious editing through his younger brother, of course.

Brienne meanwhile, on her continuous voyage towards the Isle of Faces, which is supposed to be her last stop on the journey before going home to Tarth again, stumbles across a bookstore, where they feature a book with Jaime’s picture on the title page. Stunned, she buys the next best copy she can grab, devouring the journal as she roams through the streets of Oldtown.

Not only is she surprised that Jaime apparently went into publishing, after he teased her all the while for telling the whole world about her experiences, “even though you claim to be so shy, wench,” but she is also caught off-guard by some many log entries alluding to her. While the book was edited so not to give her identity away, something that Jaime likely insisted on for her sake, she finds herself near tears at some of the later entries speaking about how the shared voyage with her proved to be the best part of the whole journey.

“It was during that time that I saw in myself the man I wanted to be. That part of my voyage is the one that changed my world – for the better. That one person I met… changed everything, turned my whole voyage of life upside-down, and I loved every second of it. And to this day, I come to regret that it didn’t last longer. I wish I was still out there, every day.”

Brienne calls up Jaime once she is back in her hotel room, to congratulate him on his latest success. Jaime explains rather sheepishly that he didn’t know “until it was too late” that Tyrion took the journal to publishers behind his back.

“Now my own face is haunting me in every bookstore. I think I have to go incognito.”

“Fake moustache?”

“Maybe.”

They talk about Brienne’s plans, and how far she has come by now. Brienne tells him that she is “just that close” to get through with the locations she planned on visiting, to arrive at the Isle of Faces as her “final piece in the puzzle.”

“So? What are you going to do with your newly acquired status as a popular traveler journalist?“ Brienne teases, if only to distract from herself – and her apparent heartache at the thought that she will finish the journey alone, because the two actually made plans to go to the Isle of Faces together.

But then reality called back and all was over.

“Laughing myself silly because I hated reading since a young age, and now I am supposedly a writer. Well, at least you can make some money with those guides. So maybe you should start as well.”

“I think I will pass.”

“Says the popular blogger.”

“I am not popular at all, and I pride myself with that,” she argues.

“Would be too mainstream for you anyway.”

Towards the end of the conversation, Jaime blurts out saying “I miss you… I… I miss us.”

”… Me, too,” Brienne replies hastily. “But… well, travelers undergo voyages. That is what we do. We don’t know where we end up. The journey is the goal. And that means we sometimes end up… in different places, it seems.”

Jaime wants nothing but get out of the family company, his mind keeps going back to the Isle of Faces, and most importantly – Brienne, whereas Brienne’s thoughts on her voyage keep revolving less and less around the Isle of Faces and more and more about the travel partner she lost back when he went to the capitol to return to “real life.”

Things may take another turn when Jaime’s brother makes a proposal, but whether that is going to pan out, only time will show.

Because as corny as it may sound, life is a journey.

And it is yet to be determined whether Jaime and Brienne will get a chance to go on that journey together, or will continue to be swept to different shores…

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #wacky tries gimp #fanfic

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