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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Roles Reversed

Natasha Romanoff (amab) x GN!R (afab)

Request

A/N: I have never really been interested in the concept of anal for my writing, but the request was sweet enough that I thought I’d give it a go. I did my research, and I hope it worked. This is meant to be soft!top Natasha (being pegged by R’s strap)

Smut: Hand Job / BJ | Anal — Butt Plug -> Strap | A 🤏🏼 of Degradation | Overstimulation |

Natasha had been waiting on you to come home for hours now, she was desperate for you after the interrupted blowjob of this morning.

——

What made matters this drastic was how you had sensually kissed her goodbye, hands still fondling with her member while your tongue caressed hers. Then you pulled away with a sad smile, and soft eyes meant to crush her hopes.

"It'll only be a couple hours Natty, I have to handle this stupid paperwork mishap, feel free to relieve yourself, but if you wait I have a surprise that'll be worth your while."

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully, normally she was the one to make the calls, but she saw a glint of sinful delight in your eyes that made her want to see what you had in store. So she spent the entire morning in bed, with a hard on that never fell because she couldn't get her mind off of you. Everything about you enticed her, so she was left to breathe through the pain.

So, it was no shock that when the sound of keys jingling in the door could be heard she was off the mattress and racing right into your arms.

"Kiss me, please." You chuckled lowly, it was very rare for you to get her this desperate. "ls that all you want baby, is for me to kiss you?"

Natasha's face warmed under your intense gaze, you watched as she struggled to speak and you wondered if that's how you looked whenever she topped. If so, then it finally made sense to you why she was always so eager.

Natasha cleared her throat, but it was clearly of no use as she softly stuttered, "N-no, I also want you to fuck me senseless, but a kiss sounded far more romantic."

Then she regained a bit of her senses as she pulled you in by the collar of your shirt, her lips slammed into yours but the confidence as well as the kiss were short lived as she gasped, and you smirked, effectively ending the kiss.

"A-Are you packing detka?" You gripped her by the hips and spun her around, pushing her into the door so you could press her into it further with your body to give a silent answer. Your lips pressed to the nape of her neck while you reached around to stroke her throbbing cock. "Thought I could finally peg you, I mean, how else would I even fuck you senseless baby?"

"Oh hush," she chided, her ass pressed back into you and you bit back an aroused moan at the pressure of the harness pushing into you. "Put your money where you mouth is detka."

Natasha's knees nearly gave out as you began to pump her cock in a way that muddled her mind, and briefly distracted her from the finger you trailed down her spine. Your nail teasingly trailed over the swell of her ass before you raised the hand to guide her face to yours.

Natasha smiled, but it was more like a grimace as the pleasure she felt with your hand alone was unbelievable. "Are you sure Natty?" The redhead nearly came right there, the way you cared for her always made her weak. "Yes."

While you continued to stroke her, pace picking up ever so slightly you'd also leaned in to kiss her rather sloppily. The redhead was panting into you as her climax neared, her body was tense, and mind distracted as you seamlessly used your free hand to reach into your purse to collect a mini shopping bag.

Natasha whined when your hand left her cock, she felt a wave of embarrassment over it, but she was grateful you didn't taunt her. You normally would, in a playful way, but you wanted her to feel nothing short of safe.

While your hands met on her backside you continued to kiss her, when she felt you part her cheeks with a firm hand her entire body tensed. "Relax baby, or it won't feel good."

Natasha nodded, then she pulled away to lean her forehead against the cold wood of the front door to calm her breathing some. You began to kiss over the heated skin of her neck to help. Once you felt her shoulders sag you pulled a bottle from your bag, and layered some lube over her puckered hole, as well as over the cooled metal of the iridescent butt plug.

Natasha gasped when you began to spread the liquid around, what was once cold and foreign, became warmed and welcome by your finger. With the opposite hand to before you were once again stroking her cock, trying to make her body relax further as you experimented.

It wasn't unexpected, but Natasha felt her mind go hazy as you broke that barrier, and just as soon as she regained her grip on reality you pulled out and replaced your finger with the tip of the prepped plug. A grin overtook your face when she pushed back, her body begging you to take the plunge, so you did and watched in awe as her tight hole swallowed it.

Natasha felt the coil in her lower belly snap, she moaned brokenly as she abruptly came. Her load was unending as her body reacted to the pleasurable stretching of her canal. She was overcome by the sensation, her hips rutted into your hand to prolong the feeling as she actually felt as her walls morphed around the intrusion. Your hand kneading her ball sack didn't help to staunch the flow, but it was clearly beneficial.

"I did it Nat," your teasing tone pulled her from the haze slightly, she croaked, "Did what?"

"I finally painted over the chips in the door."

Natasha burst into a fit of laughter, her head fell back against your shoulder as she let the humor of the moment pass over. Then after she'd calmed down some she wordlessly turned around and gently kissed your lips as her hand slipped into yours so she could move the party to your shared bedroom, and away from Liho.

Who'd been longingly staring out the window at the elderly woman across the street...

Once you made it to your bedroom it was a blur of limbs as Natasha hastily pulled your work clothes back off. Her blackened eyes, overcome by lust roamed over your physique hungrily, and her hand fell between your legs to survey the forest green strap. It was thin, and short.

"Detka, how about you finish what you started before you left." The words came off as if she was asking, but you knew better. Natasha was ecstatic when you fell to your knees, and took her already erect again penis into your hands. Cum coated your palms as you gave her a few teasing strokes, she cast you a warning glare, and then your lips wrapped around her tip.

Natasha allowed you a moment to adjust to her size before she took over, she placed a hand on your head, her fingers tightly gripped at your hair to hold you in place so she could fuck your throat until her load shot down it. Her pace was torturous, tears now streamed down your face as she was truly relentless with how deep she would thrust. "God I love your fucking mouth Y/N." You hummed at her praise, then you started to continuously hollow out your cheeks and that's when she finally lost control.

Once she'd come down, noticing your face with dribbles of her seed on your chin she smiled and eagerly pulled you back up onto your shaky legs, and directly into a kiss. Her arms wrapped around your waist, tongue slipping into your mouth so that she could taste herself as she effortlessly guided your body over to the bed.

"I'm ready to ride you detka," Natasha purred against the skin of your neck, her teeth sunk into your skin as desire controlled her wholly. Her hands gently shoved you back, your knees hit the side of the bed-frame causing you to tumble backwards, then look to her confused. "Lean against the headboard for me please."

Natasha grabbed the bottle of lube from your bag, then returned to you with fast hands as she prepped your strap before you could even process a thought. Then next thing you knew she was straddling your thighs, her cock already back to standing at attention.

"Pull it out detka," Natasha instructed as her lips found purchase against your throat. You were cautious as you brought your hands around her body to knead her cheeks in a moment of calm preparation, after a few seconds you parted her cheeks, and she began to kiss and nip at your skin nervously.

Then you felt her kisses become more insistent so you pressed a finger against the flat end of the plug causing it to momentarily press in deeper, Natasha sunk her teeth into your skin as a moan was ripped from her unexpectedly.

All at once you removed the sensationalizing piece of metal, and Natasha moved her lips up to yours in a feverish manner. There'd never been a moment where she lacked that feeling of desperation for you, but this was much more intense then any other time. This was a first for the both of you, and she was wildly turned on by the fact that you'd be the one to stretch her.

As the kiss got even sloppier, her tongue now exploring every inch of your mouth, her hands clumsily fell atop of your shoulders so that she could brace herself for the next step. Her mind was hazy with only speculation for what's to come, her labored breaths told you as much.

"Hold the strap steady for me detka," she hotly panted the soft command into your mouth once she could focus on the deeper, carnal need over the aching throb in her flushed cock.

The redhead took in a deep breath, then on the exaggerated exhale she sunk onto the silicone. "Holy shit," she shrieked, it was only the tip but it was painful nonetheless. You felt the way she tensed, so with your free hand you trailed your finger up her spine slowly, trying to distract her. Then you cupped her right breast while your tongue swirled around the nipple of her left and she sunk further as her head flew back.

Her entire body quivered when she had the entirety of your strap sheathed between the walls of her canal, a flash of something she could only describe as pure need coursed through her as the tip nudged her g-spot.

It was actually so intense she was shocked that only a spurt of cum left the tip of her cock, she was sure she should've busted all over you. It was all she wanted to do, and now that she'd been bottomed out for a few minutes she's felt her body leaning into the pleasure over the pain of the stretch. Which is why she began to rock her hips experimentally, her nails dug into the exposed skin of your shoulder as she felt the urge to move faster, making you groan out in mutual pleasure. It was a sinful echoing.

The pace the redhead set was docile in nature, but as the pit in her stomach began to tighten she felt the urge to pick it up. To give into the carnality of the moment, and chase down what was meant to be the best orgasm of her life.

It wasn't much shock to her that she'd ended up doing most of the work. You were clueless. Natasha smirked at the sight of your dilated pupils, you were incredibly dumbfounded by just how hot she looked riding your strap, it was amusing, but it was also not helping. "Detka." You instantly met her gaze, obedient and desperate to please her as always. "Stroke my cock, go on, be useful and do your part."

When your hand had barely wrapped around her shaft she knew it wouldn't be long at all. Your fingernail barely scraped over one of her thick, throbbing veins and she burst instantly, drenching your abdomen with her seed as she spewed like a damaged park water fountain.

Natasha cried against your shoulder as her high overwhelmed her entirely. The euphoria that she felt was next level, and she knew now that this was not the end of experimenting. It could only get better from here, but for now she needed to stop you from thrusting up.

Fortunately for her you came second's later, hips stilling as your own orgasm ran its course and offered her the oh so necessary reprieve.

"You did good moya lyubov'," she rasped, hand inching up to behind your neck so she could pull you into a deep kiss that broke off fast as your lungs burned with an incessant need for oxygen. "Careful detka," she winced as your hips moved the strap against her sensitive walls, as you had just moved to lean back.

You froze, a frown forming when you realized she was definitely overstimulated. "I'm sorry." Natasha shook her head, a wide grin covering the momentary grimace. "It's okay, I know you would never hurt me detka, don't freak out."

Natasha guided you both slowly onto your sides, your faces now parallel as she worked her way into shimmying off of your strap. It took a few repetitive, deep breaths, mixed with the feel of your soft lips marking up her chest for her to feel comfortable removing herself.

"How do you feel?" Natasha smiled genuinely, her hand reached down to find yours so she could pull it to her lips for a tender kiss. "I have never felt so good in my life, and I'm so happy to have embarked on this journey with you."

"What do you need most right now Natty?" You leaned forward to softly kiss the tip of her nose, resulting in a huff when you skipped her pout. "For you to come back here with those lips."

You released a humored sigh before allowing her to pull you back in for a sweet moment. It was full of soft touches, and calmed hearts. Neither of you felt a need for more, there was a contentment in leaving the carnality behind.

"Shall I run you a bath my love?" Natasha quickly shook her head from side to side. "In a few minutes, for now, please let me hold you."

You easily complied, rolling over, and pressing your ass back into her limp cock, and eliciting no reaction from the hibernating appendage. The redhead wrapped her arm around your waist and held your back flush to her chest. She smiled, feeling nothing but comforted with you in her arms, where you belonged. It was silent until you began to hum a Russian lullaby to further soothe her— she then melted entirely.

——

2,498 Words

❤️ K 😮‍💨

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silverskye13 · 5 months

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how did you get the confidence to write fanfiction? i always worry that i won't portray the characters properly so any ideas or wants to write fanfics that i have go away or i talk myself out of it :(

Well! First and foremost: Most people don't start writing,,,, anything with confidence. Let alone fanfic, where you know other people are going to be looking at it, with their own ideas of how the characters are supposed to act and feel influencing what they're coming to the story with. My first fanfic I was very insecure, which I feel like was evident, reading through the author's notes now. Apologies whenever something that required a lot of suspension of disbelief happened, a poll so readers could decide the ending so I wouldn't disappoint anybody, only to end in me writing and posting three different endings. Long justifications for why I chose certain things in the author's notes. The fic nowadays reads to me like a very rough apology.

"Hi I'm sorry I tried. Be kind I'm very scared."

But the thing about writing that fic was, it was the writerly equivalent of jumping into the deep end of the pool for the first time. After I bobbed back to the surface and realized a shark hadn't like, taken my legs off while I was down there, jumping in again got easier. And kept getting easier. And now I just write and post things.

There's kind of two schools of thought that I've seen people subscribe to, when it comes to taking the first leap. The one that's really popular around here on Tumblr is: Do it scared. It is simple and straightforward. You are scared. You will be scared. You probably never won't be scared. So do it scared. Write your thing, close your eyes and hit send [either to post it or to share it with one or two friends, or even just hitting the "save" button and not deleting it]. Get scared, do it, close your eyes, finish. When you open your eyes again and nothing terrible has happened, you can breathe a sigh of relief and do it scared again. It's a little nerve-wracking at first, but the idea is giving your mind the association of jumping and not falling. I did it and I didn't fail, therefore it is safe to do it again.

The other school of thought [the one I specifically subscribe to] is: Do it once. What you think or feel about it doesn't matter. What matters is you did it once. Maybe it will be hell, or it'll suck terribly. Maybe you're really excited! And it turns out great! Maybe its a wild ride of ups and downs, and by the end you need a few months to catch your breath and decide if it was worth it. Regardless: you did it once. Now you know, if you want to, you can do it again. Now you can decide if its worth doing again. For me, the euphoria of finishing a project always far outweighs the trouble getting there, so the step forward of "Do it once" is powerful for me. And that can be broken down too. "Write one chapter." "Draw one drawing." "Clean one room in the house." There is no pressure to continue if its really that terrible, but you at least get to decide if one was worth it [and a solid 9 times out of 10, one was worth it enough to do it more.]

Now, all that said, if what you're worried about is writing the characters right and nothing else -- don't worry too much. Most people care less about how true to life the characters are, and care a lot more about consistency in the story. An example from RnS: In canon, Helsknight is a cartoonish villain with one motivation, and that motivation is taking over hermitcraft Doofenschmirtz style. To date, no one has come into my inbox demanding I change him, because he's so OOC he's basically an OC at this point. What people have come into my inbox about though, is "Hey, you established X in this chapter, but he said Y in this chapter. Was there a reason for that?" which is them saying, "Why didn't you keep your character consistent?" If you tell your audience what the expectations are for the story and you stick with them, they will stop caring about OOC moments and characterizations, and will trust you're going somewhere with your writing. Suspension of disbelief, your powerful friend! They put the world on their shoulders and carry and everybody watches and claps.

If you're also worried about consistency, then start out with one shots! There's a lot less room for error, no large, sweeping character arcs to keep track of. And stringing a bunch of one-shots together can give you practice with character consistency and progression without committing to something massive and overarching. If you're truly worried about making the characters exactly like Canon [or the Canon in your head], I recommend making little lists of character traits, or important things you want to keep in mind. At that point you're scared of your own consistency, and you just need a framework to keep yourself consistent enough for yourself, if that makes sense?

Hopefully! This helps! Sorry I'm a little scattered today :'D

#answering asks #caramelcoatednightmares #writing advice #fanfic advice #longpost #the barking writer #im very sleepy and still thinking about soup #i think maybe i'm just very thirsty

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nogenderbee · 11 months

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Could I request Diluc, Kaeya, Childe and Ayato with an s/o who has amazing good fortune and luck?

Sure! I did these in oneshot format because I thought it'll be a bit more interesting ^^ Well hope you like it dear anon!

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕞 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Ayato x lucky!reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bleachtheidiot

You visited Diluc in Angel's Share to classically ramble about your day and adventures. He seemed to expect you by now before as soon as you say down, your favorite juice was right under your nose and when you looked at your partner, you noticed his eyes softening. It was like alternative of a smile since he can't let other read: Venti, Kaeya or Rosaria see him like that and risk getting teased to death.

But going back to current time... there was almost no one else close to bar so it was basically just the two of you.

"So how was it? I heard you accepted one of more dangerous missions today."

He gave you the strict look and you knew just by that that he was worried for the whole day even if he didn't wanted to admit it!

"Yeah, but it was easy! My luck never disappoints me~"

"That's great and I don't wish it to be otherwise but you should stop relying on it so much. It's just luck. What it won't be on your side one time?"

"Oh stop worrying so much! I'm all safe and sound!"

"And I couldn't be more glad for that..."

He was gently caressing your hand by now. It may seem like normal gesture but you could see he's being a bit mean because he cares about you. Maybe next time you should take some extra stuff just to make him less stressed text time?

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You and Kaeya were just hanging around on Mondstadt's festival. There was game based on luck so of course he encouraged you to try it! And naturally, you win every single one of them~ Eventually it ended with hosts stopping you from playing because you'd win all prizes in this tempo...

"See? I told you it's worth checking out!"

"Did you had something to do with it again?"

"What are you assuming me of? But just maybe I made a bet with host that you won't loose a single round! I'm treating you to dinner tonight, my dear~"

You should've expected it honestly... he will use every opportunity to show how amazing luck his partner has after all. But you can't really complain since he's treating you to dinner!

But he doesn't do it just to use you or so, it's more like showing everyone your amazing talent. And you can see it by the way he always compliments you before even suggesting bets or anything like that.

"Another bet? Really?"

"Well yes but you know it's not me who suggested them... they were just a bit too confident that you can't have those sort or luck."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Childe brings you everywhere with him. And it's even worse if you know about him being part of the Fatui... he'll always bring you to negotiations, competitions, fights and so on.

Since that one time when you both were just shopping in Liyue Harbor and he won over 3 negatiations with you on his side, he literally started calling you "his lucky charm".

That's how you ended up watching him fight on the sides, like today. It doesn't matter if it'll be whole boss or few slimes, he'd always tell you to give him some of your luck with that grin on his face.

And when he comes back after his win, he'll be a bit flirty, saying how it's all thanks to your luck even tho you both know very well it's thanks to his fighting skills.

"Thanks for cheering for me there! I couldn't have done this without your help~"

"C'mon... these slimes were nothing for you... you said it yourself plenty of time."

"But it could've been your luck this time! You won't mind accompanying me for some time, right?"

"Aren't you just trying to show off by now?"

He definitely does try to only impress you... and you're sure of it by the way he sends you that little grin of his symbolizing he's planning something.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You came to Ayato rambling about how lucky you got with winning a prize on some festival. He was genuinely happy to see you smile like that and the way you were so sure it's because you're lucky person is making him adore you even more.

"I guess I just have incredible luck! No one won this one before me and it's the one I liked the most anyway!"

"Of course. I'm so proud of you, my love."

It's not immidietly noticible but he doesn't really believe in so called "luck". He's sure it's a simple coincidence but that sparkle in your eyes just makes him go with your thoughts to not accidentally ruin this day for you.

"Well then, why won't we celebrate your another lucky day by going out for dinner?"

"Well I can't say no to that!"

He softly smiled at your reaction. He liked to spoil you in the first place but he adores how childish you could be sometimes.

He'd always listen to you rambling about your newest achievements and how it's all thanks to your luck with a smile. He's saying that he's proud of you and acts as if he's sure that's how it is, but in reality he thinks it was just coincidence. As much as he doesn't want you to ALWAYS rely on your luck, he can't just tell you what he thinks in the face, you're simply too pure in his eyes.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

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naomihatake · 11 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 6)

6. Where are you when I need you the most?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)

Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.

I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected.

"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."

With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently.

"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"

She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze.

Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words.

"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."

Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present.

"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."

Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move.

"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."

She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman.

Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright."

She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones.

"You have no clue how much I wish you were right."

It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue.

Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him.

The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance.

She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant.

She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again.

Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart.

Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned.

Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife.

He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed.

No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—

But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented.

Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades.

The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks.

The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision.

The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy.

The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife.

Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch.

Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings.

Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image.

Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear.

The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze.

Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady.

Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back.

It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there.

The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth.

His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend.

Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not.

Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth.

He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji.

With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:

"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."

The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest.

The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy.

Zoro.

His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show.

Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood.

"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling.

He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound.

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?"

"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth.

The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding.

She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago.

"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."

"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes.

She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim.

One more drop and she would lash out.

Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side.

"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."

Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away.

"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice.

The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully.

"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?"

With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes.

"You could never fail me."

The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread.

"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting.

The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away.

With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky.

"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums.

One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second.

"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry."

She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could.

The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword.

"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him.

Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him.

She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties.

Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her.

With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book.

The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips.

Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:

"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered.

The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her.

"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."

She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option.

"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud.

"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly.

The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale.

"Nami."

Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face.

Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably.

"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."

She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck.

"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."

The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued.

"I know. You're planning betrayal."

The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response.

"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."

The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body.

"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."

Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts.

"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"

"They definitely know more than me."

"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"

"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."

"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping.

"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."

Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely.

"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?"

"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh.

She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty.

"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?"

"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."

Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished.

"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?"

"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face.

"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you."

"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."

She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever.

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"

Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out.

"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."

She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own.

Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story.

The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry.

Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch.

There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive.

"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently.

He was referring to Nami's telling.

Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented.

"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth.

The witch knew where this conversation was heading.

"Why does everybody keep saying that?"

Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.

Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:

"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "

A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension.

"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."

The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity. Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.

At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.

"Nami," the witch intervened gently.

"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again.

"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."

Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek.

"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."

Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me.

"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face.

Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him.

"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream."

God fucking dammit.

"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke.

"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?"

"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice.

"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."

When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot.

"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."

Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn.

He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze.

"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."

His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance.

Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?

"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."

Luffy scoffed.

"You know I'm right."

"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."

"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."

She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room.

Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position.

She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person.

Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice.

"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being.

She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it?

Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.

Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.

At least he was alive, she continued telling herself.

It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years.

The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened.

Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed.

Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment.

"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered.

Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them.

"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly.

With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries.

She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.

"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?"

A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes.

That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories.

"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then.

"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman."

At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met.

And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings.

A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret.

The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about.

"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."

Maybe he hears me.

"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."

You're a crybaby, he should've said.

Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories.

"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."

Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy.

"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."

Their home, because that place was never her home.

"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."

Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later.

"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."

She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens.

"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps.

She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart.

A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter.

She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend.

"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."

There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish.

Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees.

She needed some fresh air.

The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead.

He will get better. He had to.

She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife.

On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere.

The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone.

"How is he?"

"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together.

"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?"

"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own.

"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled.

"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables.

"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!"

Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat.

However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—

The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue.

A disgusting sensation, truly.

She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.

But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt.

She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.

Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly.

Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter.

"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared.

"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."

The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice.

"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."

Nami.

The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing.

The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice.

"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul.

The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction.

"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state.

She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass.

"Where are you heading to?"

The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock.

"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch.

That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment?

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it."

Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom.

The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown.

The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips.

"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.

No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—

The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—

"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!"

The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe.

Who's Arlong?

She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air.

There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace.

She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself.

"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"

Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots.

"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."

Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision.

The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers.

"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."

The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination.

"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror.

The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder.

"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."

That's what scared Nami the most.

The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes.

"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."

She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—.

Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away?

The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face.

For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide.

She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong.

"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display.

He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course.

"Me too," Luffy commented.

Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—

What was she scared of?

She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it.

While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun.

The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence.

Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook.

The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof.

Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage.

An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end.

Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow.

I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation.

She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue.

Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well.

On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen.

Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl.

"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features.

With a sigh, she grinned cheekily.

"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow.

"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters."

Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total.

With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her.

"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."

"Even you hesitated for a second!"

His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage.

"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own."

She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough.

"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive."

Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them.

If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win.

Then, an idea popped into her head.

Their eyes.

They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan.

Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength.

She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun.

The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf.

She had to pull herself together.

"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled.

"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second.

There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists.

Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight.

But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady.

And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan.

Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought.

She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.

"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl.

She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat.

Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound.

Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant.

The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread.

Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever.

Dammit.

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop

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bunnys-lil-hideout · 8 months

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your f/o loves your hair. or lack there of.

they love how you style it. they mesmerized when watching you work your magic on it, the process and the work it takes to get it to that lovely form you desire. watching you brush it, braid it, straighten it, cut it, dye it, bleach it. they're so excited when you ask for their help as well. they'll hold the brush for you, they'll help you get the knots out, they'll grab the right gel/spray/product you need. it may take a few minutes, or it'll take almost the whole day, but that's part of the fun for them. when you're done, they'll praise it for minutes on end, just staring at you until you shyly and playfully ask them to stop, even though you know they won't.

they like how it looks in its natural form, when you've barely touched. you'll brush it just enough to keep knots out, or maybe you don't need to touch it at all, and it's still beautiful to them no matter the fact. if it's stiff or if it bounces/flows when you walk, if it keeps getting in the way of your face, if a few strands end up bending in funny places. it could look the same for months and they would still think it looks lovely on you.

they don't mind that you have trouble taking care of it. having those periods of time where it's hard for you to wash it, brush it, comb it, cutting it- they don't care. to them, it's just a part of you that they get to experience. and when the day does come for you to work on it, they won't mind standing by to make sure you're okay. to motivate and help you when you need it, and try to distract you from your thoughts so you can get yourself cared for in peace.

they love your long hair. it's amazing in how it rest on your shoulders or against your back. it's wonderful to see how it looks in the morning, throughout the day, and then in the night before you sleep. they love when you put it up, or try new styles and shapes with it, or hearing the plans you have for it in the future. your happiness is worth the amount of hair strands that come off in random places.

they love your short hair. its do funny yo see it go into the weirdest positions when you've woken up. it tickles when they lean in the kiss you and the spikes of your ends tickles their foreheads. they love to ruffle it up and have it barely change the shape. when you grow it out a bit, they find the new shape that its taken cute, and are enjoying it as much as they can before you cut it again.

they love how you look with no hair at all. with a buzzcut, or pixie cut, or even full on bald. they love it. the shape of your head is beautiful to them, they love feeling your skin without the hassle of messing up your hairstyle, they love to feel your head, how nice your skin or the small bits of stubble feel. they rarely even think about what you would be like with a full head of hair, because you're already perfect to them, why would they want it to change? whether by choice or not, you're stunning to them without it, and nothing will change their mind on it.

#the bun talks #f/o community #self ship community #self-ship community #selfship community #f/o imagine #f/o imagines #fictional other #selfship imagines #selfship imagine #self ship imagine #self ship imagines #self-ship imagine #self-ship imagines #safeship #safeshipping #this is a lil sloppy i admit #but still hope someone enjoys it

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ananke-xiii · 2 months

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First borns and how to stop them

I love love love "First Born", it's a 10 10 10 across the board* for me and here's why.

(*although the John Winchester hunting Kinights of Hell beat is kinda meh. I don't know if it's my memory playing tricks on me lately or what but I remember that John wasn't exactly knowedgeable about demon lore. And what about his diary being filled with info about Abaddon while Sam and Dean act totally clueless? Shouldn't they know their father's journal by heart by now? Or, I dunno, at least recognize the damn name or something? I don't know, something seems off here but I can't be bothered to check so I'm gonna give it a pass).

Patriarcal societies focus on the prominence of (male) first borns over the rest of the offspring. They represent continuity, tradition and, in a word, the past. Matriarchal societies, on the other hand, favor the last borns representing innovation, discontinuation and, in a word, the future. The biblical story of Esau and Jacob is interesting in this regard and I find it unbelievably ironic that in Supernatural the former leader of the non-factional angels is named Rebecca.

Cain is, of course, the first born of all time. However, in this episode he's never addressed as such. Interestingly, he takes on the opposite role: the Father (of Murder). You know things won't go well in Supernatural when somebody invokes John Winchester's name and this is one of these cases.

In this episode Crowley's seduction of Dean begins but we already know it'll eventually go badly since he positions himself like the daddy-type you can have fun with. I'm not sure why Crowley started to look for partners to rule hell with. I mean, of course he's a sentimental bastard who wants to be loved so it totally tracks. But from a narrative pov I can't tell where he made the switch. For sure, he made sure to show the Winchesters that he's a demon of his word, "the devil you know and so you can trust" and promptly proceeds to help Sam from the Gadreel's infestation. Crowley's fully aware that you never refuse a chance to impress a Winchester and basically everybody and their mother knows that if you save Sam, Dean falls in love with you on the spot. So Crowley played it very well, good for him. Or not (little aside: this is the beginning of Crowley's arc apotheosis. From imprisoned demon almost turned into human to restored King of Hell who turns humans into demons and make them his partner. The beginning of his end, sigh).

Anyway, from predator looking for his prey ("and your prey, Gadreel, has left the building. So, it's time to move on to more pressing matters, like destroying Abaddon") Dean is, once again this season, manipulated and Crowley quickly turns him into his little experiment, his guinea pig if you will.

The other (self-proclaimed) guinea pig of the episode is second-born Sam. He's just expelled Gadreel and found out about Dean's lies. He took it so badly that he's ready to literally risk his life to have Gadreel's remaining grace (ewwww) removed. The scientist experimenting on him is, luckily for Sam, none other than Castiel.

While his dark mirror Crowley stands for "fun, fun, fun, let's hunt together without consequences, yeah", Castiel is the voice of reason, mitigation and diplomacy. For pissed people like Sam and Dean Jiminy Crickets are no fun and must be silenced. Sam cuts him off twice or three times even, he doesn't want to listen to him because he's in his feelings. Nothing bad with that per se, the issue is that both Sam and Dean are highly emotional disregulated and they don't have the tools to deal with strong emotions. This episode shows it very well.

Sam hyperfocuses, internalizes everything, shuts down externally, he actually puts his own life on the line for a stupid experiment and literally utters the words "My life's not worth any more than anyone else's". It should be "My life is as worthy as anyone else's, right?" Do you agree with me? Not Sam. On the other hand, Dean un-focuses (he was hunting Gadreel but the next second he's in Cain's cabin on a killing spree), externalizes everything and shuts down internally. He also puts his life on the line but, just like Sam, he's also looking for a sense of worth and finds it in the Mark of Cain ("The mark can be transferred to someone who's worthy").

Dean is in so much trouble because he doesn't have a Castiel by his side. Or, well, he has his dark mirror version who preys on his insecurities ("He was right, you know. You are worthy") and is blatanlty playing him. The saddest part of all is that Dean realizes that and lets himself be played: it's not even begun and it's already ended. However, Sam's got newly reformed Castiel by his side and he's not as passive as Crowley fakely is, he takes matters into his hands and calls Sam's bullshit ("Sam, I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do. But nothing is worth losing you"). Castiel stops Sam. If the fight with Sam is what makes Dean go on a hunt with Crowley, it's Castiel's absence that prevents him to call it off. This is important.

What about Father-First-Born Cain, uh? He's paralleled to what's left of Gadreel inside Sam and, by extension, to Gadreel himself in their connection with Lucifer and their manipulation of Dean (yes, Gadreel and Cain 100% conned Dean, the moment he sent out his prayer to all angels and the moment he entered Cain's property he was doomed. As I said, Dean and Sam Winchester are very well-known names on the interdimensional street, you either steer clear of them or try a way to gain the upper hand, Gadreel and Cain tried and succeeded).

I'll be frank here, Dean is indeed worthy of Cain because if there was one guy who ever got conned was Cain himself. I mean let's look at his story:

Abel wasn't talking to God. He was talking to Lucifer. Lucifer was gonna make my brother into his pet. I couldn't bear to watch him be corrupted, so I offered a deal -- Abel's soul in heaven for my soul in hell. Lucifer accepted... As long as I was the one who sent Abel to heaven. So, I killed him. Became a soldier of Hell -- a knight.

Cain must be the most gullible character ever because not only he offered a deal with Lucifer but it was such a stupid deal that I'm like... really Cain? I mean, how could he know that Abel's soul was sent to heaven? Lucifer accepted. The same Lucifer who was literally browsing inside the mind of his brother pretending to be God? Hello, Cain, hello???? (little aside: S12 "I never lied" Crowley vs "I will never lie to you" Lucifer power showdown could have been SOOOOO good... if only...). But this is the fundamental error of human beings: getting tricked into thinking they can deal on equal footing with decidedly more powerful beings. He got totally played by Lucifer and he doesn't even know if Abel's really in heaven. The game is rigged ladies and gentlemen.

I gotta be honest again and tell it like it is: Cain's a bit of a self-righteous dick. He couldn't bear to watch his brother be corrupted so he offered a deal and he killed Abel. It's almost like the price, the burden that the mark weighs on its possessor is a sort of contrappasso: the power you abused will abuse you. Horrendous and utterly, utterly unfair because see above: power imbalance between the parties to the agreement. Again, the game is rigged. I take a little pity on the Father of Murder, the wonders of Supernatural!!!

However, there is someone in Cain's story who has good sense: poor, plain, unremarkable Colette. Yeah, it didn't go well for her, too. And who's the sanest person in this episode again? What? Castiel? Thee Castiel??? You know things are BAD when Castiel is indeed the sanest person in an episode.

The duality of the Castiel/Crowley combo has never been better showed than in "First Born": they are Colette/Abaddon, the wife and the mistress, the humdrum and the fun. The "you have to stop it"and the "we could have been forever". Rules of juxtaposition dictate that if Castiel manages to stop Sam he won't be able to stop Dean. And if Crowley manages to "be forever" with Dean he won't be able to keep the party going. And if Colette couldn't do anything about Abaddon but getting possessed&killed, Castiel will get possessed and will kill Crowley (he was very close). Exactly what happens in S10.

(the whole "you're living my life in reverse" has always sounded strange to me because Cain doesn't kill Abaddon and Colette doesn't exactly get killed by Cain... Abaddon did snap her neck and bones. Plus, there's the whole possession thing between the two (the blurring of the lines between two love interests). I don't want to sound smug but my interpretation is maybe a bit more faithful to the events as they are presented, I choose to trust Robbie Thompson's vision. The end result is the same anyway).

So what about Abel? Yeah, what about him. This episode marks the slow decline of the writers' interest in Sam. I know people don't like it when I say it but it's like... a fact. And, I mean, it's not even their fault 'cause the biblical and patriarchal story focuses on the first born. However, they are clearly retelling it and adding new characters to it so why removing Abel completely? It's written as a character who's incapacitated due to the fact that an archangel is snooping around his mind transforming him into his pet. Silencing him is a very dangerous move. S9 is so complicated, man. Anyway, it was unfortunately a "necessary" absence/silence because the final message of S9/10 is: patriarchy wins, tradition continues, the cycle of abuse is not broken. Yes, the cycle's still very much intact even if Dean didn't kill Sam.

Since SPN's version of the story seems to be working by juxtaposition, First-born-Father-Cain-Dean doesn't kill Second-born-Son-Abel Sam. But he doesn't get stopped by Wife-No Fun-Colette-Castiel either. Instead, Dean kills Death. Now, I've got things to say.

You don't know how I wish the whole Book of the Damned thing were never written or were a red herring. Imagine if killing Death was the Key to removing the mark and opening the cage! Beautifuuuuuuuul! First of all, in this way killing Death has a meaning and a value and doesn't feel like a cheap way to solve a conundrum. And second it would've brought home to the audience that Dean and Sam's main fatal flaw is that they can't let go. In a very convoluted way, Carver is saying: yeah, they didn't kill each other but this isn't a good thing because they're also refusing to integrate each other and move on. Therefore, The Things We Repress, Cage, Forget and Totally Do Not Want to Talk About must come to the surface of our conscious mind. And it will be total DISASTER because the unconscious mind, by definition, does not share the same values, beliefs and mechanics of the conscious mind. Fishing something out of our darkest pits must be done with the utmost care you can ever imagine and with the right tools in the right season.

Carver was working with pretty loaded symbols for 4 long years and it wasn't always easy to watch, I'll be honest. But the final message is very clear: Dark and Light are Distinct but Not Separate. This is like the basis tenet of all spiritual journeys. He literally laid his cards down and said: look, this is a story about two brothers and, like all stories about two brothers, this is a story about integrating two opposing aspects governing our psyche, the literal key is seeing/acknowledging our trauma, do the work and move on with more awareness. The cycle can be broken: there will be a shitload of work to do but people can outlive it. It's possible. I'm oversimplyfing too much here but this is just to say that "killing Death" would've been a powerful message if that was what brought The Darkness upon the earth: you can't kill a basic aspect of the psyche, the literal guardian between two dimensions, something will tip over if you do.

(I like to imagine Carver watching SPN finale undoing everything he spent 4 seasons on and got a shitload of (sometimes justified) hate for. I think it's a mix of horror and satisfaction, nothing beats the feeling of seeing our successors fall hahaha)

I'll stop now 'cause I feel I've blabbered enough. But this fucking show is not as bad as you think it is!

#i've got things to say!#first born #spn s9 #supernatural #spn meta #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #cain #mark of cain #crowley #abaddon #colette #spn rewatch #spn #abel

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lovers-serenade · 11 days

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"let's break up. we can't do this anymore."

"are you crazy? i'm just going for college, we can make it work. you love me. i love you. it'll all be okay." i was enveloped in a tight hug.

i pushed away, tears filling up my eyes. "i love you, i do. that is exactly why i can't do this. you'll be away, you'll be so busy. we'd barely talk. i can't see you, i won't be able to hold you. you won't be there to reassure me when i feel insecure that you found someone better. i'll be so lonely."

"baby i promise i'll be there all the time with you, just not physically. it'll be hard, but i'll find time for you. every single day. you're the best i have. my heart is already in your custody. you are my heart." spoke back a trembling voice, grabbing my hands in desperation.

"b-but i'm too weak. i can't - i just can't. i'll break and so will your heart. i love you so much, too much. i can't let myself grow to resent you." i sobbed. "p-please let me go. let us have our h-happy ending." i withdrew my hands just for them to be gripped harder, in a resolute manner.

"i can't. i won't. we'll have a happy journey, we don't need a happy ending baby. no matter where i go, i always have and will love you. no one else but you. even when you're weak, i'll love you extra till you heal." lips touched my forehead and our fingers intertwined with each other as i broke down and cried out loud. the tight warm embrace controlled my unbearable shaking and slowly calmed me.

how did i ever consider the possibility to let 'us' go? to kill 'us' might have been easier, but i'll keep 'us' alive, because you make it all worth everything. i'll grow stronger for you, for us, for myself.

"thank you for loving me." i whispered.

"thank you for letting me love you."

category - writing prose / fiction / thoughts

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blingblong55 · 1 year

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Fade into you- Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

F!Reader, fluff, little angst

Soap is the best date you could’ve asked for, you trust him with every fibre of your being and he trusts you just the same. The military ball is an event most if not all soldiers can never turn down, except for the grog bowl, that is one thing no one really wants for themselves.

You weren't planning on attending, but Price made all of your volunteers and wanted you all to show up to keep safe from the newcomers and the occasional drunk soldier. Also because he just wanted his team to have fun and because two specific soldiers had shown interest in you, Soap confined in Price had a slight crush on you, Ghost, too confined in Gaz that he also had a crush on you, now it was a matter of who asked you first.

Ghost was not in the mood to compete with his teammate, so he told you the military ball is a stupid tradition he would not be participating in. "No, r/n, I won't fuckin' attend so don't expect me there." He wanted to say, "No, I won't go unless you are with me, it's stupid but I rather do it with you..." If only he had the courage he brings onto the battlefield when it comes to you. To him, you meant so much more than anything he has ever possessed in this cruel life he calls his.

When you eventually told Soap that Ghost would not be attending and somewhat hinted that maybe you wouldn't be either, that's when he asked you to go as his date. "So, do you have any plans on Friday? You know, it'll be fun if we just went together, watch Price and his wife be old and grumpy together" His comment made you laugh and you agreed to go because, in all honesty, you wanted to wear a dress and get dolled up. You denied it when you were on the field that you weren't so girly when in reality you wanted to do your hair and makeup, wear a pretty dress and go on pretty dates, go out with him.

When the evening of the ball eventually arrived, the three men and the two dates were at your door. Soap knocked on your door, hoping you'd be ready, which you were. Once you opened that door, you looked stunning, Soap was mesmerized by such beauty you held. "Wow, bonnie, you look...beautiful." and there it was, the subtle blush on your cheeks. You and he linked arms and soon you all walked towards the area the ball would be held in.

Soap looked quite ravishing in his service dress, the way he always made sure he looked sharp with it always fascinated you because how can a man like him on the field be the same man that stands before you. To him, you were quite the gem and you'd be worth breaking the rules of the ball.

As the night came closer to ending and they finally started to play slower songs, you found yourself in the arms of Soap. Price and his wife slow dancing and Gaz and his girlfriend are lost in their own world. And after the many jokes, Soap gave you throughout the ceremony and the laughs you two shared, maybe it wasn't Ghost you fancied, maybe all along it was Soap.

Soap leaned in and kissed your cheek, you smiled and blushed. From afar there he was, watching the whole thing. All evening he sat far from you all, watching you and wishing he could've gotten the courage he needed. When he saw Soap slow dance with you that's when he wanted to intervene and once he saw Soap kiss your cheek, he had to admit his heart ached just a little.

All along he wanted to just be with you, wanted to sit with you during the dinner and whisper sweet nothings to you and watch as you blush and look away. He too wanted to break the rules of the ball and if he had to, he'd break the rule just so he had to drink out of the grog bowl so you'd watch how much of a tough guy he is. So what if he was jealous? You were worth the punch he'd give Soap by the end of the night. Because how dare he take away the girl of his dreams from him?

One look at you and oh my did you take his breath away, the way your dress was so respectful of the rules and yet it made his mind wander of how it'd look on the floor of his room. The way you had done your makeup and how he wished he was the one kissing that soft skin of yours, you are and will be the most beautiful woman in the room. To be honest, just like your favourite book, the one he read just because of you, you bewitched him, body and soul.

Never did he ever want or need a relationship, that is until you came along and took his heart hostage and to be fair he wouldn't want it back because it was yours to keep and use. Once Soap was taken from you, totally by some coincidence and not because Ghost promised Gaz a day off tomorrow, he approached you. "R/n, um... I..you..." fuck did he hate how much of a mess he was with you.

He sighs and looks at you, "You are a sight for sore eyes, darlin'" something he totally did not practice in the mirror when he was tying his tie. You blush a little, "Thank you, Ghost-"

Fade into you Strange you never knew

"Simon...to you and only you I can be Simon..." His voice hinted at a smile he proudly wore under that surgical black mask. "Thank you, Simon.." you blushed a little more. And there it was, you and him, doing stupid together, just like he wanted all along.

A/N: got inspired by some scene in Gilmore Girls, anyways I hope you liked it:)

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atalana · 1 year

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so i've been doing a doctor who rewatch with my flatmate, which is giving me whole new avenues to think about doctor who meta from

and i wanna talk about this moment

the dalek emperor asks "so prove yourself, doctor. what are you, coward or killer?"

and i think the full context of his response goes a little underappreciated

because especially if you know a lot about doctor who, this line seems fairly obvious. still poignant as hell, but we know the doctor, and we know he's the man who'd always make that choice, it's built into his very mythology

except this is nine

and the choice he's being offered is whether or not to use a weapon that will kill every living thing in its radius - it'll wipe out the daleks, but the range of it also includes the entire earth. you can finally stop the war, but you have to sacrifice a planet you've come to call home, and all of its people, in order to do so. and you'd better act fast, because the daleks are waging war right now, people are already dying - if you don't do something, they're going to wipe out the human race anyway

logically, he should. logically, he has to.

but this is a doctor who is fresh of the heels of making that same choice! he already did it! not too long ago, with his own world in the balance, he proved himself killer, once and for all. what's one more planet, compared to all that? one more planet, to prove it wasn't all worthless? if you let them go now, you killed your own people for nothing

i don't think he knew, until he got his hands on that trigger, what choice he would make. he was certainly planning to be able to do it. and it's not like he stopped being a soldier after the war, when he met that one lone dalek he did everything in his power to kill it, to make the war finally over, to make it worth it. nine doesn't want to be a killer, but he knows that he is. and he's proven it many times this season

until right now. staring down his worst enemy, his worst nightmare, knowing that if he acts with mercy here he'll condemn the universe to destruction, he does it anyway. throws everything aside to give the devil itself the kindness neither of them deserve

this isn't just the moment he declared himself the man who never would. this is the moment he became the man who never would

and time lord regeneration's a funny thing. same man, new man. same memories, new personality, new goals, new ideals. and sure, some aspects of that are random, but there's still a chain of connection. each new incarnation becomes who they are in response to how the last one ended. the 50th enjoyed going into the differences between ten and eleven, how eleven ran away from everything that the doctor was before, played up the childish and the trickster and never fully looked at all the horrors in their past, because ten couldn't help but take responsibility. he considered responsibility the only moral option, but at the end was still so angry that this weight never stopped dragging him down, that he could never make the selfish decision. the world isn't fair and i don't want it to end like this, i see so much of that in eleven

and that defining moment of nine's that birthed ten, that's right here

the man who never would is a line stolen directly from the doctor's daughter. ten is the doctor who holds up genocide as the worst crime someone can commit, no matter the circumstances. ten who will let a dalek go just to avoid causing another. ten who won't touch a weapon of any kind unless absolutely necessary. who doesn't even want to be in the same room as a gun. it all comes down to this moment, with nine against the end of everything, in the final hours of his life

handed an identical choice to the one that changed his life forever and saying never again.

#this has been sitting in my drafts for a while whoops #i got very passionate about it and then i forgot i hadn't posted it yet until i saw that post like don't skip nine #and i was like YEAH DON'T SKIP NINE HE'S VITAL TO TEN'S CHARACTER #and then i realised i hadn't explained that yet #but ye! i have many emotions about this. and genuinely you can't fully understand ten without looking at this moment #also nine good #doctor who #tenth doctor #ninth doctor #eleventh doctor

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liminaltrickster · 3 months

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Show Your Work: Luke Newton/Colin Bridgerton

Yes, of course, I cast charts with estimated birth times based on the information Nicola and Luke shared above, haha.

When I was looking at Luke's chart, something fun happened. My eye was very quickly drawn to a placement that screamed Colin Bridgerton! to me, so let's talk about it.

But first a few disclaimers:

I'm a traditional astrologer. This is the source from which I pull the meanings of the planets, houses and signs. This also means that I use Whole Sign houses. If you're used to Placidus or another house system, things will probably look a bit different here.

Yes, there are natal charts available for the characters of Colin and Penelope. I just haven't had a chance to look at them closely yet. I hope to soon, and we'll see what we can glean!

When we look at a natal chart, individual placements can be read in a multitude of ways depending on what we're wondering about. I'm coming to this chart looking for Bridgerton, so the reading will be very specific.

I don't and won't make delineations for people's personal lives without their consent. That's why we're focusing on a piece of Luke's public creative output here.

As I said, these charts were cast with estimated birth times, but assuming the rising signs are correct, it's fine for our purposes.

—

OK, here's what we're looking at in this post—Jupiter (♃) in Libra (♎) in the 3rd:

The 5th House and its Ruler

The 5th house rules creativity, so when looking at the creative output of an actor, I start here. Being a Leo rising, Sagittarius (♐) is in Luke's 5th house. (Side note: Both the 5th house and Sagittarius are associated with hedonism and the pursuit of pleasure. How fitting for a show like Bridgerton!)

From here, we look to the planetary ruler of Sagittarius, which is...

Jupiter

Jupiter is associated with exaggeration and expansion. In Luke's chart, it's in the 3rd house of siblings. As we know, the show centres around a family that includes 8 children, which is... a lot, lol.

Jupiter also represents nobility (the Bridgertons fall under a viscountcy) and prosperity (they riiiich).

Lastly, Jupiter often brings with it themes of faith, trust, and hope. These are essential elements of any romance, but I find it particularly the case this season because both Penelope and Colin continually and consciously put themselves in the vulnerable position of telling each other what they want and need. They've developed a lot of trust in each other through their friendship and seem to have faith that if they just put themselves out there, no matter how terrifying, it'll be worth it.

The 3rd House

We've already discussed siblings, but another 3rd house topic is neighbours and we know where Penelope lives:

In fact, almost the entirety of Bridgerton is set in the local environment (another 3rd house topic) of Mayfair in London.

Another mainstay of the 3rd house is writing, including letter-writing. Enough said. Also, gossip and rumours. Again, enough said.

Traditionally, the 3rd house was also associated with the Queen and, in Bridgerton, she holds ultimate sway and power over all of the other characters.

I think there's also something to be said for the fact that Colin ends up with Penelope, who, as Whistledown, is eminent in power and achievement. Given the context of her life and the show, it’s not wrong to regard her as a self-made queen 😉

Libra

Finally, we come to Libra.

Libra is associated with beauty, and on the surface level, obviously, everyone and everything on the show is beautiful—from the cast to the costumes to the sets to the music. It's all eye (and ear) candy!

But Libra is about evaluation and judgment. The show is narrated by a gossip writer (and future Mrs. Colin Bridgerton) who passes judgment on the members of the ton.

It also makes sense that once Whistledown is unmasked, she promises to be more discerning and fair in her writing as these are also Libran themes.

Not to mention that Colin is consistently concerned with the fair treatment of people around him, especially those who are dear to him.

As Liz Greene writes in The Astrology of Fate:

"The sign is much more connected with questions of ethics and morality, judgement and apportionment. This theme of morality is one which I have encountered many times in the lives of Librans, for there is that within the sign which longs for the verification of this deity who holds the perfectly balanced scales of judgement; and in order to achieve such an experience, imbalance and extremes and the violation of the law are necessary happenings from which Libra does not readily escape."

"The law" in this passage also means truth and the social order.

Colin spends much of season 3 trying to reconcile what he views as Penelope's unfair treatment of himself, his family and Marina against the fundamentally good person he knows her to be. How can she be both?

As far as his character arc goes, sorting this out is messy but unavoidable.

—

OK, I think that's everything. I'm always amazed at what we can find by looking at just one placement.

I noticed one other thing in Luke's chart that immediately made me think of a specific scene. You can check that out here.

And I'll try to post about where I see Penelope/Lady Whistledown in Nicola's chart sometime later this week.

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queerofthedagger · 3 months

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For the wip game: because i am nothing if not predictable time-travel Maedhros?!?!? I AM SEATED 😍 also omg mona. that's. a lot of wips.

Andyyyy!! <3 it IS I am once again asking for a rich benefactor to pay me to write fic without requiring anything in return goddamnit

Timetravel!Maedhros is actually kinda funny because I came out of a nightshift at 7am one night and got possessed like mad typing out 2k words worth of notes into my phone on the way home and just couldn't stop. The basic premise is just

"Maedhros jumps. Maedhros wakes up. Nobody is less thrilled by this than he is."

But as like, specifically the beginning of it all from Fingon's POV. Maedhros lands back a few days before the Darkening of the Trees and it's not so much a fix-it as it is a like... making things a little bit better and others a lot worse lmao. Like he won't be able to stop the Darkening, or Finwë's death, or even stop his brothers from swearing the Oath. In fact, the fact that he doesn't swear the Oath will have such a spiralling effect on his relationships with his family. He tries to stop the kinslaying and fails, he tries to at least to stop Fingon from joining but Fingon's almost killed by a stray arrow and Maedhros sees red and well would you look at that suddenly they're both bloodied again. Too bad.

He does obviously not join his father crossing first, hoping it might stop Fëanor from burning the ships, but it doesn't. At least he won't be captured but in turn he then lacks the leverage to wave his kingship to Fingolfin. And so on and so forth - the twist here is really that it's 1. not that easy to unfuck even with some foreknowledge/hindsight, and 2. just Pre-Darkening Fingon being suddenly confronted with end-of-canon Maedhros, because no matter how much Maedhros tries to act normal (lol) he's obviously not going to be... particularly successful. He does not want to tell Fingon (or anyone, for that matter) either though because that would mean admitting all that he has done the first time around and the sheer shame and guilt and horror of that. well.

Obviously, eventually, in snatches, Fingon will find out and it'll honestly just serve to make them even more codependent and insane about each other in new exciting ways but !! you know. That is the basic idea at least, it's gonna also be some time till I get around to that but whenever I think about it I can think of new things to make them worse with 😌

#answered asks #mona rambles #mykingdomcomeundone #mona's writing #tolkien #silm #russingon #i just love timetravel that's not actually a fix it

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astrxq · 1 year

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Mindy meeks martin fluff because I can barley find any fics of her

playing cupid

mindy meeks martin x reader

words: 3.7k

notes: not proofread!! there might be some mistakes i wrote this in one sitting 🙁

You were growing tired of witnessing Chad and Tara practically devour each other with their eyes. Both of them refusing to acknowledge their obvious attraction to each other made you want to scream, and you were relieved not to be alone in this. Mindy had rolled her eyes so often that you were sure her head would start hurting soon. She sighed loudly once more as Chad and Tara chatted in the kitchen.

"Will you two just make out already?" Mindy exclaimed.

You held back a giggle at your friend's comment. Chad turned to glare at his sister, tossing one of the Cheetos from the bag he was holding at her face. Mindy turned around, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"Hey, watch it!"

Chad smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mindy. I forgot that Cheetos are sacred artifacts in your eyes." Mindy stuck her tongue out at him, but he didn't notice because, once again, his attention was on Tara. As the lovebirds continued to prepare dinner, or attempt to, Mindy plopped down next to you on the couch, resting her head on your shoulder.

"They're so annoying, aren't they?"

"So annoying," you agreed. "I mean, it's so obvious they like each other. God, I've never met someone as oblivious as them."

Mindy nodded in agreement, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I know, right? It's like they're playing this never-ending game of cat and mouse, and we're stuck here watching it unfold. How can they be so blind to their own feelings?"

You sighed, glancing towards Chad and Tara, who were now engaged in a playful argument over the recipe. "I wish they would just confront their feelings and get it over with. It's painful to watch them dance around each other like this."

Mindy tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, maybe it's time we take matters into our own hands." You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her suggestion. "What do you have in mind?"

She sat up straight and motioned for you to lean in. As you did, her breath tickled your ear as she whispered, "Let's play matchmakers and give them a little push in the right direction." You couldn't help but grin at Mindy's mischievous plan. The idea of intervening in Chad and Tara's love life seemed both thrilling and risky, but at this point, it was worth a shot.

Mindy leaned back, her eyes glimmering with excitement. "We could start by setting up a casual hangout for all of us, maybe a movie night or some kind of dinner. Then we pretend we have an assignment or something and leave them by themselves. You know, like in the romcoms you like."

"They won't get mad?"

"Duh, they will. But they'll thank us later on. Trust me," she assured, giving your shoulder a pat before sitting up on her knees to get your friends' attention. "We should all go to the movies this week; I hear there are some good movies coming out."

Chad and Tara turned around, giving Mindy a strange look due to her enthusiasm for the hangout plan. "Yeah, I heard that too," you chimed in. "It'll be fun to have a movie night together, don't you think? We can catch up on the latest ones and just relax for a bit." You tried to sound nonchalant, but inside, you were bubbling with anticipation.

Chad and Tara exchanged glances, seemingly contemplating the idea. Chad shrugged, a playful smile forming on his face. "Sure, why not? It's been a while since I've been to the movies." Tara nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting Chad's for a moment before she turned to Mindy and you. "Sounds like a plan, then."

Mindy and you exchanged excited glances, hardly able to contain your anticipation. The pieces were falling into place, and soon, you would set your plan in motion. So, when Tara gave you both a suspicious look, you both tried to pretend you weren't grinning so hard your faces were starting to hurt.

"So, what movie are we watching again?" Chad asked, walking next to Tara while Mindy and you led the way around the movie theatre.

"Uh… the one with the knife," you said, pointing at the huge poster with the bloodied weapon on it. "I thought you hated those."

"Well, yeah! But this one isn't as scary, right?" Tara tilted her head in confusion.

"Right," your voice cracked a bit, and you quickly recovered by coughing and rubbing your throat, pretending it was itchy. Mindy glanced at you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She could sense your sudden unease and decided to change the subject, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. "Anyway, let's focus on the mission at hand," she said, her voice filled with determination. "We're doing this for Chad and Tara, remember?"

You nodded, grateful for the shift in conversation. "Absolutely. We want them to be happy, and if this little plan of ours helps them realize their feelings, then it'll all be worth it."

As the two of you continued to wait outside the theater, the minutes stretched on, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement for the plan and disappointment from Mindy's words. Just as doubt began to creep into your mind, the theater doors swung open, and Chad and Tara emerged, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement. They approached you and Mindy, their eyes shining with something you couldn't quite decipher.

Chad was the first to break the silence, a mischievous grin on his face. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he said, his voice filled with playful accusation. "Caught in the act, huh?" Tara nudged him lightly, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"Chad!" she said, her tone a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

As the four of you made your way back to the car, Chad wrapped an arm around your shoulder, slightly pushing you behind so Mindy and Tara walked in front of you. "What's wrong?" his question caught you off guard, and you glanced up at him, feeling uncertain. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the rapid beating of your heart.

Chad chuckled, his playful tone betraying a hint of curiosity. "Come on, don't think I didn't notice you and Mindy. You guys were standing awfully close out there." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze locked on you. "And don't act like your crush on her isn't painfully obvious."

You held up your hands innocently. "Who, us? Never." Mindy joined in, her expression matching yours. "Just enjoy the movie, you two. It's going to be great."

With a final exchange of playful glances, Chad and Tara settled into their separate seats, and the lights dimmed as the movie was about to begin. Mind

y leaned over to you, whispering in a hushed tone, "Phase one complete."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement. The plan was set in motion, and now it was a waiting game. You stole a glance at Chad and Tara, observing them from the corner of your eye. Despite their physical separation, there was a subtle tension in the air, a shared anticipation that lingered between them.

Mindy was paying attention to the movie, being the horror-lover she was. She didn't notice it when Chad turned around to look at both of you and gave you a thumbs-up. Does he think they're setting us up? You couldn't help but wonder. But you decided to play along, returning the thumbs-up with a sly smile. Letting Chad think that they were the ones orchestrating something. Little did he know that you and Mindy had a plan of your own.

As the plot unfolded on the screen, you couldn't help but notice Chad occasionally sneaking glances in Tara's direction, while she seemed equally aware of his presence. It was as if they were drawn to each other, unable to resist the magnetic pull.

During a particularly suspenseful moment in the movie, Mindy leaned over to you and whispered, "Phase two begins now." You turned to her, curiosity piqued, eager to know what she had planned.

She motioned for you to follow her lead. You pretended to look towards your friends, but you stayed quiet, thinking about how close Mindy had gotten. She didn't seem to notice your nervous state and continued with her plan.

With a mischievous smile, Mindy pulled out her phone and sent a text message to both Chad and Tara simultaneously. 'I left something important in my car. Y/n and I are going to grab it quickly. BRB!'

You and Mindy stood up, trying your best to be inconspicuous as you made your way toward the theater exit. Chad and Tara glanced at each other, confusion evident on their faces, but they nodded in acknowledgment. Mindy winked at you before you both disappeared out the door.

Once outside the theater, Mindy couldn't contain her excitement any longer. She grabbed your arm, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Now, we wait and see what happens," she said, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and mischief.

As you stood there, leaning against the wall near the theater entrance, your heart raced with anticipation. You couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness, unsure of how Chad and Tara would react to being left alone together. What if it backfired?

Minutes ticked by slowly, and you wrapped your thin jacket around yourself to ward off the cold. Mindy leaned on the wall next to you, the popcorn holder still in her hands. "So, do you think our little plan will work?" you asked Mindy, unable to hide the slight tremor in your voice.

Mindy glanced at you before taking a handful of popcorn. "Absolutely. I have a feeling that this is exactly what they need. Sometimes a little push is all it takes for people to realize their true feelings." She nodded, and you both exchanged determined glances.

It was silent for a bit as Mindy chewed on the popcorn, and you craved to step closer to her for a bit of warmth, or maybe just to feel her close. "They probably think we're making out right now," Mindy said with a laugh, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You chuckled, trying to hide your blush. "Well, they're in for a surprise when they realize we're just standing here freezing and talking about their love lives," you replied, your voice laced with amusement.

Mindy nodded with a smile, eating another handful of popcorn. You cleared your throat. "Why… why would they think we're making out?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure Chad thinks we're in a Chad-Tara situation," Mindy explained, her tone filled with amusement. "But I've told him so many times that he needs to let it go. I mean, we're just friends, right?" Mindy's words caught you off guard, and you felt a mix of confusion and disappointment. You had hoped she would see through the act and understand your true feelings.

You huffed out a laugh, trying to hide your disappointment. "Well, they're in for a surprise, indeed."

As you reached the car, Mindy and Tara got into the backseat, leaving you and Chad standing by the door. Chad leaned against the car, his eyes fixed on you. "Y/n, life's too short to let fear hold you back. Take a chance on this, even if it's scary. You never know what might happen."

You huffed out a laugh. "You're one to talk."

"I'm working on it," he said, rolling his eyes. "But my sister definitely has a thing for you too. Trust me."

You sighed, shaking your head before glancing down at the almost empty water bottle in your hands. "She doesn't."

"Oh, she so does."

"She just told me we're just friends, so not really." Chad chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Y/n, you have to understand that sometimes people say one thing but mean another. Trust me, I know my sister better than anyone, and I can tell she's got feelings for you. Maybe she's just afraid to admit it or doesn't want to risk the friendship either."

His words stirred a glimmer of hope within you, and you couldn't help but ponder the possibility. "You really think so?" you asked, your voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and longing.

Chad nodded, his smile encouraging. "Absolutely. I've seen the way she looks at you when she thinks no one's watching, the way she lights up when you're around. It's hard to miss. Sometimes people need a little push to confront their feelings, just like what we're doing for them."

"I don't know, I don't want to push it."

As you reached the car, Mindy leaned closer to you, her voice soft. "Hey, everything alright?" You nodded, before thinking of how to change the subject, feeling guilty for getting so much attention at once. "Do you think it worked?" you whispered back, moving your head towards a driving Chad and a rambling Tara.

"I think we need to think of a phase three," she pointed to her phone, giving you a small, knowing smirk as the two friends in the front seats remained oblivious to the conversation. Mindy typed her idea on the notes app, moving the phone so you could read the screen as she typed.

The screen read, 'Phase three: dinner operation.' You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Mindy's idea. She continued typing, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen. 'We take them on a spontaneous dinner. A cozy place, and one of us has to get sick. They won't suspect a thing since we're roommates. It's the perfect setting.'

You nodded in agreement, silently conveying your enthusiasm for phase three. As Mindy finished typing, she turned her attention back to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "What do you think?"

You glanced at Chad and Tara, their voices blending into a pleasant background noise as they continued their lively conversation, Chad's music playing in the back. With a

nod, you whispered back, "Let's do it."

Mindy's face lit up with a wide grin, and she leaned even closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can do it tomorrow, just the four of us. And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, my stupid brother will confess."

You nodded, your heart swelling with anticipation. Mindy's plans always had a touch of magic to them, and you couldn't wait to see what would unfold during that dinner. The car continued to move, the hum of the engine lulling you into a state of calm excitement.

As the car got closer to your respective apartments, you stole glances at Mindy, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, her mind brimming with possibilities. You couldn't help but feel a deep appreciation for her, her unwavering support, and her ability to create moments of joy and connection. The thought crossed your mind that you craved so badly for there to be something more between the two of you.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost missed Mindy's soft voice as she spoke again, her words barely audible over the sound of the car stopping. "Y/n, it's our stop."

A warmth spread through your chest, and you turned to her with a gentle smile. "Right, sorry." The anticipation for the upcoming dinner and phase three of your plan hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you entered your apartment, you couldn't shake the thought of Mindy's words and the way she had leaned closer to you during the car ride. There was an unspoken connection between the two of you, a bond that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. But the fear of risking your friendship held you back, and you wondered if it was worth taking that leap.

Mindy sat down on the couch next to you, covering herself up with a blanket and glancing at you before moving it slightly so you could fit under it as well. "So, what happened with Chad?"

"Huh? It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"You have been awfully quiet in the car; I'm sure it was something," she said, turning her torso so she was facing you. "You always tell me everything; what's wrong?" You could hear the slight panic in her voice. Chad was never the one you confided in; it was her.

At your silence, Mindy sighed and stayed quiet too, thinking to herself. You opened your mouth, remembering Chad's advice from before, but closed it again once you realized you didn't know what to say. "I have…" you started, Mindy turned to look at you, attentive. "I have feelings for, uhm."

Mindy's face dropped a little at the thought of you liking somebody else, but she stayed quiet, waiting for you to finish your sentence. You, on the other hand, felt like your face was about to explode, your cheeks couldn't get any hotter, and you were just stammering out 'uhms' and 'uhhs' while Mindy raised her brows at you, awaiting.

"I have feelings for you, like… the romantic kind."

Silence.

Mindy's lack of words made you want to curl up and cry the second your confession left your mouth. "And you told my brother before you told me? You know Chad sucks with relationship advice," you furrowed your brows, wondering why she was acting like you hadn't just confessed your feelings.

"I do too, by the way. I thought it was obvious," she said after a beat of silence. "Tara tried to set us up together today at the movies."

"So did Chad," you chuckled, feeling much calmer now that you knew for sure that your feelings were reciprocated. But the second Mindy licked her lips, your heartbeat picked up again at how attractive she looked, staring down at your own lips.

Not saying a word, she reached for the back of your neck, toying with a hair strand before pulling you forward. With a hint of hesitation, you reached out and gently cupped Mindy's cheek, your fingers grazing her soft skin. She leaned into your touch, her breath hitching ever so slightly.

You could feel the warmth of her body drawing closer, and your heart pounded in your chest. Mindy's hand moved to rest on your waist, pulling you closer, closing the distance between you. The blanket started tangling between both of your legs, and the world around you blurred as your focus narrowed solely on her.

In a hushed whisper, you could hear the catch in her voice as she murmured your name, like a sweet melody that resonated in your ears. "Y/n."

The moment your lips met, you felt like you were on fire. Mindy's lips were soft and inviting, melding perfectly with yours. As the kiss deepened, the world outside seemed to shut down. There was only the two of you, locked in an embrace that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions and ages of pining after one another. Your bodies pressed closer, as if trying to merge into one.

Eventually, the need for air forced you to reluctantly part, but the warmth of the moment lingered on your lips. Mindy's eyes fluttered open, and a dazzling smile graced her face, mirroring the joy and contentment that radiated inside of you.

Chad and Tara's plan might have worked too well. Now you had to make sure to beat them at their matchmaking tactics.

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