#I was just itching for voyager you know

[thresholdbb]

I'm sorry if you followed me under false pretenses only to find out that I am just generally unwell about the character

#you know which one #I had multitudes but then they brought voyager back #it's a whole thing #listen it'll calm down in a bit and the multitudes will come back they did before #I was just itching for voyager you know #I was gonna make cosplay progress but then I had a bank account jump scare #then I remembered I have no marketable skills #having a weird one #I am feeling some feelings about people places and things #it's lonely out here #el cerro es tan alto y yo soy tan pequeño #melts into oblivion

[aka-indulgence]

A Kraken’s Rage

So after making this post I’ve decided to make it. Here’s a kraken, angry because someone stole his wife >:(

————

The rain beats down on the deck, the sound of crashing rain and storm surrounding you. You hear men shouting as the ship rocks back and forth. Your dress is soaked. If it kept you warm before, you’re cold now. The chill bled right under your skin down to your bones. You shiver and shudder uncontrollably.

I’d rather be tied up under the deck…

You strain against the thick, rough ropes that tied your middle. You were hoping that, maybe with the rain, you’d somehow be slippery enough to slip out of them. Of course that wasn’t the case- you felt stupid. You wanted to itch your arms so bad, the rope was horribly coarse and whenever you moved the frayed parts would scratch your skin. You grab onto the rope with the edges of your fingers and pulled at it, to no avail. None of the men were paying you much attention, too busy attending to the ship.

Except for one, apparently.

“Ay lass, why don’t ye stop your strugglin’,”

Your face sours as the captain of the ship walks over to you, back straight and shoulders wide, like a soldier. And just because he mentioned it, you try twice harder to pull at your ropes, trying to throw your weight around to no avail.

“I see ye keep struggling fer hours now. Why don’t ye give to the sky? Yer not gettin’ out of them ropes. They’re tight, I made sure of that.”

You growled at him. “What are you doing paying attention to me? Isn’t the captain supposed to pay attention to his crew and make sure this ship doesn’t fall apart?!”

He laughed. Oh you hate him, you hate him so much. You hated how he looked at you. His band of pirates raided your seaside town and he had the gall to ask you to be his wench. Of course you said no, but the big man apparently got offended by a little woman saying no, and dragged you to his ship. You’re not sure what he’s planning to do to you by the end of this, but he does enjoy causing your displeasure.

“Never been on a ship while the storm be raging? This here ship ‘as handled just fine. Ye on the other hand might run off an’ do somethin’ stupid again.”

You shut your eyes and muttered under your breath. “Please… save me Sans.”

“Who be ye prayin’ to, lass?” You opened your eyes and decidedly looked away from the captain. “I’m surprised ya ‘aven’t abandoned hope. No one can save ye. Ye can’t save yerself less than throwin’ yerself overboard.”

You flinch when you hear the sound of a sword being drawn, and the menacing glint of the captain’s sword close to your neck. You strain against the rope, trying to keep your distance.

“Unless ye want me to end yer voyage right now.”

“N… no…” you whisper, gritting your teeth, shuddering in fear this time.

The captain’s chuckle was stopped when there was a sound, off in the distance.

It was no thunder, and though you don’t think you’ve ever heard something like it, you felt a shiver up your spine. Like the sound of landmasses creaking before they split apart. You’re sure the men felt it too, because all of them stopped what they were doing, their voices falling silent. Even through the rain and the waves, you could hear your breath. The captain turns his head towards the crow’s nest and yells.

“Wayland! What it be!?”

“I-I don’t know sir! But there be something in the water!”

“Going to need more than that there, Wayland!” The captain growls. The rest of the men have run to the railing, trying to get a better look.

“I-it’s coming… It’s huge!”

Everyone collectively yelped when something bumped into the ship, sending a couple of men off their balance. The captain himself grabbed onto the mast to steady himself. The men still at the railing start to yell and curse, throwing themselves off and towards the middle of the ship.

“It’s a foul beast captain!”

“Then what be it?!” the captain shouts, getting impatient.

The men get increasingly frantic as another sound shakes the whole ship, this time much clearer and closer. It rumbled deeply, as if the ocean itself was growling at the ship.

There was a moment where everything went quiet, and all you could hear were the crashing waves, and the rain.

…

A wail rips out of the water, the sound of a hundred grieving whales. Then, tentacles the size of redwood trees split the waves, slamming onto the deck and taking a tight grip on it, sending a couple men flying out of the way.

Your mouth opens. The captain murmurs under his breath.

“No…”

“KRAKEN!!” Wayland cries, as a tentacle wraps around the mast above him.

“I see that now, Wayland!” The captain growls, as he runs off to bark orders at his crew.

Your heart pounds as a familiar skeleton hand digs its fingers into the deck, causing it to splinter and crack under it. A skull rises out of the water, big red lights in his sockets swimming red with rage, the monster gritting his teeth, staring at everyone on the ship. He rises halfway up his ribcage. His eyelights scan over the scene, looking at every person until you meet his eyes. In a blink, his expression changes, eyes turning into a familiar seafoam color.

The unmistakable sound of his purr cuts through the screams of the panicking men for a moment.

“Sans,” you breathe.

A ‘small’ smile widens on his mouth, and you see a tentacle approach you- before someone slices their sword into it.

Sans cries, the sound as loud as thunder. His eyelights shift to red once more, glaring at the man who’d done it, still attached to the hilt. He grimaces, sending a wave down his tentacle, flicking both the man and the sword off as if he was merely a mosquito. He slams down both hands on both sides of the ship, making it look like a toy.

He shrills, his voice rippling through the air and no doubt striking fear down to the pirates hearts. A voice booms through your mind.

YOU

TOOK

HER

AWAY

FROM

ME!

Screams erupt. Chaos takes over around you as the men try to fight off his tentacles with guns and swords, to no avail.

Your jaw goes slack as you watch them get tossed around like ragdolls. You squeak when a man gets slammed down next to you, his sword thrown out of his hand as a tentacle weighs heavily on him, before he gets wiped over the deck. He snatches them one by one, throwing them off into the raging skies. You see a man’s cry end as he gets choked by the tentacle constricting him.

One man’s scream fade as he’s picked up high above the sea, in front of Sans’ snarling face. His mouth opens, revealing the sharp monstrous teeth, like sharp rocks below the cliff, and he lets out a sky-splitting shriek, drowning the sounds of the man. Lightning strikes, coloring the sky white and leaving their silhouette as black as night.

You hear an awful crunching sound, then silence.

Rain trickles down your face like a river, from your forehead, over your nose, down your cheek to your chin.

Ahead of you, liquid falls to the deck. It isn’t rain.

The portside of the deck has been ripped off.  A tentacle grabs onto the bowspirit and snaps it off like a twig. His shadows move and dance over everyone. A lot of men have resorted to retreating below deck.

This… this Kraken’s Rage… his anger, the tentacles hooked on the ship, making it creak beyond what it’s capable of…

This was all for you. Maybe you should be afraid like the men much bigger and stronger than you, running for their life. But all you felt was wonderment for Sans, who had miraculously found his way to you.

The storm surged along with the kraken. The ocean a deep teal and the sky dark gray. Thunder crashed as he cried. It was as if he was the storm itself.

“W-whoa!” you exclaim, as the ship starts to rock back and forth so violently, that a wave crashes over the deck, seawater spraying your face.

“Sans! Help!”

He turns to look at you, and reaches with his hand. A finger as big as tree bark start to claw and pick at the ropes, until they split apart. You stumble out of your bindings and make your way to his hand, when you hear a yell.

“Fire in the hole!”

Your heart drops as the world slow downs for a few seconds, a cannonball shot at Sans’ ribcage.

“N-no!”

Fear strikes you, as you worry for a moment that your beloved kraken had just been shot through the chest with a bullet. It hits his rib and you hear an awful crack. Sans wails like a whale that’d just been harpooned, and your jaw falls as he falls backwards.

… But it doesn’t last long.

He growls, a flash of red in his sockets, and his fingers run through the starboard, the men falling with their cannons. You look over the side, seeing how long it takes for you to hear their splash. You swallow. The ship was bigger than you thought it was.

You shake your head, looking away from the water, and back to Sans. You make for him, but before you could get his attention, a pair of hands close around your arm.

“Agh!”

“Yer not going anywhere, lass.” You grit your teeth when you realize the captain’s dragging you away from what’s left of the rails.

“What are you doing?! Your ship’s a wreck, you should abandon ship!”

“We might ‘ave a fightin’ chance if we can get farrr away from that there beast ‘o yers. He might stop if he sees he might hurt ye…”

“Urgh… let go of me you scoundrel!”

You go back and forth from the captain, struggling for your life. You stomp the captain’s boot, but that only gets him to curse and pull you harsh enough that it felt like he’s trying to twist your arm off. You yelp, hating that despite using all your effort, the captain was still too strong for you to escape.

Luckily for you, there was someone far stronger than him.

As soon Sans saw what was happening, he shrieks, bringing both of your attention to him. His eyelights had locked on the hands on you, and that set him off. He let out a continuous high-pitched gurgling sound, and before the captain could unsheath his sword, a hand had slipped in between you and him, separating the both of you. The captain roars in frustration- sounding like a helpless seadog compared to Sans- eyes widening when a huge shadow looms over him, a tentacle posing to strike.

He manages to dodge at the last second by scrambling out of the way as it hits the deck like a cannonball. The cracks and crunches as the tentacle continues downwards makes it sound like it reached all the way to the bottom. You peek out of Sans’ fingers.

“Ah, ye missed me ye foul beast!” The captain shouts triumphantly. You grit your teeth and brace again Sans’ finger, wishing you could fight him yourself.

The captain celebrates too early, however, as the planks below him creak under his weight and cracks, screaming as he falls down the floors of the ship.

You see a flash- water was quickly filling the ship. Without further ‘encouragement’ from Sans, the rest of the men were jumping into the water.

You’re raised to Sans’ shoulder, and he lets you climb onto it. You fold, clinging onto his neck, as Sans lets out the last of his frustration, ripping what’s left of the ship into splinters, the sails falling and some screams going silent as he drags the ship under the waves.

You pant, shuddering in the cold, as you see the ship turn to nothing but frothing bubbles and driftwood. Sans puffs his chest out, as if he’d just taken down a competitor.

A speck moves in the water- and the captain surfaces, flailing onto a piece of wood. His moment of peace is quickly broken by the snarl Sans emits, shaking the air around you. As the captain looks up, a tentacle raises above him, and it sways from the base up to the tip. He thrashes his legs, trying to swim out of the way, crashing down on him like a wave, surely crushing him under the water.

He won’t be bothering you anymore.

Sans stares down, bellowing a steam of breath from his mouth. There’s a group of men on a tiny lifeboat, but Sans pays them no mind. He turns around, and they yell when a tentacle drifts near them, sending a tiny wave that rocks their boat.

The storm was merely showers now, water dripping from your hair.

You were still so cold, shivering every few seconds.

There’s an inquisitive sound in Sans’ trill. He picks his hand up close to you and lets you climb on, and you practically hug your knees to keep yourself warm. You’re grateful when he covers you with his other hand, shielding you from whats left of the rain. And his hands were starting to feel warm… like there were little flames in his palms.

His eyelights dilated. As he tries to get a better look of you, you get a clear vision of his eyes. Those seafoam orbs look so kind when they look at you.

He trills again, sounding like a mix between a dolphin and a baby whale. Timid, checking you. It’s hard to believe that your gentle giant really was the same kraken from legends that have brought many to their watery dooms.

“It’s… it’s ok Sans. I’m ok, I’m ok now. Thank you.”

He didn’t need to speak in your mind for you to understand. He purrs, as gentle as lapping waves on the shore. He smiles as sunlight penetrates the heavy clouds and the drizzle fizzles into nothing. He brings you to his face and instinctively you take a step closer to press your cheek to his.

Mmm… he’s so warm.

The sun starts to warm you and though your hair and dress were still soaked, they weren’t dripping as much anymore. Your skin started to dry. Your breaths are shaky and you smile.

You kiss him.

“Thank you, Sans…”

#kraken sans #aka writing #can u imagine. being dumb enough to steal the kraken’s wife #also theres one fanart of kraken sans angry bc wife is gone #that happens here #:]

[whatsnewalycat]

Psychomanteum / Chapter 12

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 12: Ghost in the Machine

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter go on a date while grappling with the past, present, and future.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 8.7k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, insecurities, mirror, angst, fluff, acting career things idk, awkward/nervous speech patterns, cocaine use, past infidelity, suspicion, dissociation, argument, abuse mention

Notes: Chapter title from "Ghost in the Machine" by SZA featuring Phoebe Bridgers. Howdy! If you want the taglist, or AO3 link, head on down to the masterlist. If you want a link to the spotify playlist for this chapter, let me know and I'll send it to ya.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Every window in the house sits ajar, welcoming a warm cross-breeze that tickles your skin. It carries an earthy scent from further up the hill, giving faint whiffs of sage and dirt. 

Dieter moseys around the house in his boxers, voyaging between his kitchen sink and potted plants, watering can in hand. He mumbles sweet little affirmations to his green dependents, checking in with each in a hushed voice, saying shit like, “Now, how are we doing here? Thirsty?” or “Looking great today,” or “Wow, someone needs a haircut.” 

From your place nestled into the couch, you alternate between watching him and studying the white wisps of steam that swirl off the surface of your coffee cup. 

This morning, while peaceful, has you feeling off-kilter. Your mind keeps wandering to the interview with DIRT. To your mom. To Dieter. 

Overnight, the dust began to settle in your mind, providing more clarity. Details started to surface shortly after you woke. Things you heard yesterday, but didn’t understand or deem important in the moment. 

Like David’s statement: “Dieter has had a lot of big changes in his personal life this past year as well, with his divorce to Anika, and the scandals surrounding it.”

Like your mother saying: “He had a problem with drugs, you know, big problem, had other women, too,“ and, “I know he has a cocaine habit, and that he cheated on his wife, does that sound like anyone else?”

Like Dieter saying: “No, I definitely deserved that.”

In each still, calm moment, they replay. Every time you look at Dieter and your heart aches with love and adoration, your memory blindsides you with this information. 

Is your mom right? Did he cheat on Anika? 

Or is she just trying to drive a wedge between you?

Wouldn’t he have told you when he had the chance?

You know you could do a web search to look into it, do your own research into the matter. Hell, you could even just fucking ask him. But the prospect makes you itch. 

Because what if she’s wrong and he thinks you don’t trust him? Or, worse, what if she’s right? 

Fuck, what if she’s right? 

Your blood starts to buzz hot and rapid through your veins. You look around for an escape hatch and see a bookshelf, then set your coffee cup down to approach it. 

Among knickknacks and a few small plants housed on the solid oak shelves, you find titles you expect to see, like 1984 by George Orwell, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann, and at least a dozen art reference books. You also find a few things you weren’t expecting, like Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, half a dozen Julia Quinn novels, and, most importantly, a first edition of Betty Crocker’s Picture Cook Book. 

You pull the cookbook out and examine it, running your fingertips along the frayed corners of the faded red hardcover, then flip it open, asking, “Why do you have this?”

Dieter looks up from an unruly Monstera, “Have what?”

“This cookbook,” you answer, padding across the living room’s black and white striped rug to show him. 

He frowns as you hold it up, shaking his head, “Must’ve been Annie’s. She left some stuff behind when she moved out.” 

“My grandma had this one,” you murmur, glancing up at him, “Is—is it ok if I look through it?”

He scoffs and shrugs, “Not like she’s coming to get it,” then returns his attention to the Monstera. 

You settle into the couch, thumbing through the yellowed pages, reading recipes, tips, and instructions compiled for housewives of the 1950’s. Dieter finishes grooming his plants and plops down at your side, curling an arm around your shoulders, “Betty giving you any inspiration?”

“Fun fact: Betty Crocker isn’t an actual person,” you smirk, turn the page to the section on custard pies, and inform him, “In the 1920’s, a flour company noticed they got a lot of homemakers requesting baking advice, so they adopted the moniker Betty Crocker as a pen name for the people who answered the questions.”

“Huh,” he blinks, “Interesting.” 

“Listen to this,” you flip to a dog-eared page towards the back of the book and start reading from it, “If you’re tired from overwork, house chores you’re bound to shirk, read these pointers tried and true, and discover what to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Tips for housewives who are fucking miserable,” you tell him, then read another excerpt, “Get outdoors every day. Take a walk, do some gardening, take the children for an outing, or pay your neighbor a short visit,” and another, “Harbor pleasant thoughts while working. It will make every task lighter and pleasanter. Notice humorous and interesting incidents to relate at dinnertime, etc.”

“Jesus,” he mutters.

You want to tell him that the page was bookmarked. Its connection to the spine, well-creased. Referenced often. The comment lingers at the back of your throat. 

When you backtrack your place in the book, trying to resume your study on custard pies, a white index card slides from between two pages.

“Oh,” you pluck it out and furrow your brow at the ingredients, measurements, instructions printed in a precise script, “It’s a recipe for banitsa. You ever had this?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s like a flaky cheese pastry… phyllo, feta, yogurt,” you murmur, then glance up at him, “What do we have going on today?”

“Reservations at 7, and Darlene’s gonna stop by later, but other than that,” he grins and shakes his head, “Nada.”

So, the two of you smoke a joint on the patio while Lincoln picks up the called-for ingredients Dieter doesn’t have on hand. After Lincoln drops them off, you sanitize the sun-drenched quartz of Dieter’s kitchen countertop, all sparkling rainbows in the light. Dieter spreads a paint-splattered drop cloth across the no-man’s land between the dining room and kitchen, sets up an easel, equips it with a canvas, then rolls a little yellow file cabinet out next to it. 

He puts on a mix of music described as roller-rink 1978. As the funky tunes play over the sound system wired throughout his house, you attach a bread hook to his matte black stand mixer and sift bread flour into its 7-qt bowl. 

Then you go to work. 

You concentrate on the task at hand in each given moment, taking it step-by-step. Measuring, mixing, and kneading. Trying not to think too long about the romance novels lining the bookshelf, or the recipe’s delicate handwriting, or the dog-eared page, or Dieter’s baited breath after he recounted why he and Anika split, or your mother saying, “I know he has a cocaine habit, and that he cheated on his wife, does that sound like anyone else?” Or David Alterman asking, “Do you worry that those patterns are bound to repeat themselves?”

Instead of these things, you try your hardest to occupy your hazy, pot-laced brain by separating the dough into equal pieces while humming along to ABBA and Elton John and Electric Light Orchestra. 

When the recipe calls for the dough to rest for an hour, you clean your workspace, throw together the banitsa filling, and wash the dishes. 

Then the timer tells you: seventeen minutes left. 

You turn your attention to Dieter. His bare feet move fluid from side-to-side, paintbrush flitting between the palette and canvas as he lip-syncs along to “Hollywood Swinging” by Kool & The Gang. A grin stretches across your face. 

They cannot be right about him. This is not the kind of man who has affairs. No fucking way. This man is an angel. 

I’ve been fooled before. 

You banish the thought with a quick shake of your head, then try to distract yourself by asking, “Do you still see ghosts?”

He looks up at you, then back at his work-in-progress with a shrug, “I don’t usually see them per se, it’s more like a, uhh… an understanding. Or a knowing, I guess. Like a picture in my head with a feeling attached to it.”

His features twitch animatedly as he talks, accenting his words, dark eyes glancing between the canvas and your face. 

“It’s like… have you ever had intrusive thoughts?” 

“Have I ever,” you snort.

“It’s like that,” he explains, “Like a flash of something. Not like that kid in the Sixth Sense, seeing them fuckin’ uhh… walking around and shit.” 

You hop up onto the kitchen counter and inquire, “Where’s the most haunted place you’ve been?” 

Dieter pauses mid-brushstroke and scrunches his face up as he thinks about this, resuming when he says, “Well, hotels are always the worst. They’re so transitive, you know, all this energy coming and going constantly. And the people stuck there… they usually went intending to have a good time, a vacation or party or whatever, and something happened to them. That, or… they went in with an intention not to come out and succeeded.”

The implication unfolds in your brain, and you nod. 

“Either way they seem to have unfinished business,” he shrugs and squints at the canvas, smudging paint with his thumb, “Usually they’re harmless, so it’s pretty easy to ignore,” he pauses here, clears his throat, then continues, “But in terms of the worst vibes I got, like, uhh… how scared it made me feel, it was definitely Ethan.”

Blood drains from your face and extremities, leaving you cold and dizzy. 

“I—I thought—wait, really?”

He squints up at the ceiling, like he’s re-evaluating his statement, then levels his eyes with yours with a nod, “Yeah. At first, at least. Like the first night I was there, I felt him and it was,” he furrows his brow and drops his gaze to the floor, “Dark. Really fucking dark. And I was already in a bad way, y’know, I went to your place straight from the airport and you were—”

“A fucking disaster?”

“A beautiful trainwreck,” he corrects with a persuasive smile. It falters as soon as he continues, “And I just had this big fight with Annie about the divorce and, uhh, stuff, and hadn’t used blow in a day or two, just… not great,” he swallows, then shakes his head, “I think maybe… he could sense that about me. It was a warning. I remember knowing that’s what it was.”

“Oh,” you breathe. Look down at your hands. Start picking at your cuticles.  

“It was hard to stay. So… I left.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad. I’m sorry. I mean, he told me that he liked you—”

“It got better, really, love. It’s fine,” he assures you, then frowns, “Wait, he told you he likes me? Did you ask him about me or something?”

“Well, yeah,” you drop your gaze to the floor, “I just wanted to—I don’t know, see if he approved, I guess.” 

His head jerks back and he blinks, “Oh.” 

“Yeah—he, um, told me that he always liked you,” you tilt your head at your dangling legs and chuckle, “Told me you were a triangle guy.” 

Dieter lets out a light puff of laughter. 

“He asked if you make me happy,” you tell him, so quiet it’s almost a whisper, then look up to study his reaction. 

He pulls his paintbrush from the canvas and stares at you, his eyes soft and searching, “And?”

A soft scoff flees your lips, and you say, “Of course you do, Dee.”

“Yeah?” 

This crooked smile spreads across his face and makes your heart ache. 

“Obviously,” you chuckle, grinning in return. 

Dieter seems to think about this, pink tongue rolling along his bottom lip as his eyebrow quirks. He sets his palette down on the little yellow file cabinet, drops his paintbrush into a cup of water, then crosses the room towards you. 

The way he looks at you seems to take a physical presence on your skin, making you shiver before he even reaches you. When he does, his hands slide up your bare legs, fingertips dipping under the hem of your jean shorts. His hips nudge your knees apart. 

You hook your arms around his neck as he tugs you closer, brushing his nose against yours, “You make me happy, too.” 

He kisses you, gentle for only a moment before your tongues meet. 

It’s so soft and wet it makes you gasp. A rumble sounds from his throat and his grip tightens. You arch your back, balling his shirt in your fist

He guides your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, “Do you feel that? How happy you make me?” 

“That’s pretty fucking happy,” you grin, wrapping your fingers around his girth, over the soft fabric. You start to work him and he tosses his head back with a moan. 

Your lips meet his again, finding depth. It’s a slow heat, the way you take your time with his cock in your grip and your tongue in his mouth. Drives him crazy. His breaths carry strained groans that tickle your throat and make your cunt throb. 

When you roll your thumb against the damp spot in his sweatpants, he gasps, “Fuck–”

You hook a finger under his waistband, “I wanna see it.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, pausing to drag his tongue against yours, earning a whimper from you, then says, “Any time, any place, he’s all yours, baby.”

And right when he starts to pull down his pants, the front door swings open. 

You both jump and look towards the noise. 

In walks Darlene, cell phone pinched between her ear and shoulder, talking to someone on the other line, “Yeah, I just got to Dieter’s house, I’m going to tell him—Yeah, I will—Ok. Ok.”

Dieter rearranges himself and meets your eyes, murmuring, “To be continued,” before turning to approach her. 

“Yep, bye,” she tosses her phone in her designer bag and sighs, looking between the two of you, “Did I interrupt something?”

Your mouth gapes open. You shake your head and hop down off the counter, “We, um–we–”

Dieter cuts in, thank fucking god, responding, “No. What's the news?” 

Darlene raises an eyebrow at him, then you. She leans back against the dining room table and crosses her arms, “Well, I raised hell at DIRT. David Alterman is on disciplinary leave. The interview will be published without the phone call tomorrow. So… we will see what happens.” 

“Oh, that’s good!” you grin, glancing at the back of Dieter’s head, then to Darlene, “Thank you so much. And—and I’m sorry, you know, you had to deal with that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Darlene nods, flashing you a wane smile, then looks to Dieter, “Can I steal you for a sec? I have to talk to you about something.” 

He clears his throat and nods, “Yeah,” then follows her outside. 

You release a little chuckle and smile to yourself. 

The timer goes off. 

Dieter slides the door closed behind him, following Darlene around the centerpiece of his patio: a sprawling oak tree. He looks up into it as he trails behind, admiring all the twisted innards of the beast. When they step out of its shade and into the hot afternoon sun, he grimaces. 

She plugs a cigarette between her lips and lights it, asking him on the exhale, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he takes a step forward and leans against the steel railing, peaking over the edge to look down the cliffside. 

“How’s she doing since yesterday? That was a fucking mess,” Darlene leans on the railing beside him. 

Dieter scrunches his nose up, shrugging, “Kind of hard to read, I guess. She seems fine. But–but I don’t know, she’s just,” he pauses here and frowns, “I think I would be freaking out if I were her, you know? But she’s not? And I don’t know what to do about that.” 

She flicks her cigarette and raises her eyebrows, then sighs, “Actually, Dieter, that’s what I wanted to talk about with you.” 

“About what? Lua? What about her?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you serious about this girl?” 

“Jesus Christ, Darlene,” he groans, dropping his head, “Yes, I’m fucking serious. I wouldn’t be doing all this bullshit for just anyone.” 

“It just seems like there’s a lot you haven’t figured out. Maybe some things you haven’t discussed,” she takes a drag and looks him up and down, “What if I got some intel that says she’s still selling drugs?”

He plays along, inquiring, “What kind of drugs?”

“Edibles. Pot brownies, shit like that.”

“I’d say your intel is bunk. She’s straight.”

“Well, I looked into it,” she blows a plume of blue smoke out into the canyon, “She has no online presence, no license, sells out of her apartment—I mean, it fucking reeks, Dieter. How’s she able to make enough to live in that area with no marketing?”

“She doesn’t make a huge profit. I mean, this month I helped her with rent—”

“You’re fucking kidding me. So she’s using you—”

“No, she’s not. I had to beg her to let me help. It’s not like that,” he maintains, shaking his head, “I mean, who’s your source? Why are you even looking into this?” 

“I don’t trust her, Dieter! Something isn’t right, it’s not adding up.”

He pushes off the railing and pushes non-existent sleeves up his forearms, “Let’s say you’re right, and she’s selling edibles,” he stops for a beat, then scoffs, “Who fucking cares? Fucking pot brownies? Who gives a shit.”

“Movie studios care. The public cares. Doesn’t matter if it’s crack or pot, she’s a fucking drug dealer.”

“She’s not a fucking drug dealer, Darlene,” he snaps.

She stares at him. Takes a drag off her cigarette. 

He kneads his neck, shifting his weight from one foot, to the other, before throwing his hands out in exasperation, “I need you to just believe that, for once, someone loves me and is good for me. Please.” 

Darlene’s lips purse, “That’s what you said about Anika.”

“That—that’s different,” Dieter drops his gaze to the ground. 

“Is it, though?” she blinks at him, “You swore that was it, that she wasn’t a gold digger, and yet… now she’s ex-Mrs. Dieter Bravo. Walked away with almost half your estate in return for not selling your secrets. She’s a rich woman now.”

“Yep,” Dieter sighs, skidding his toes against the mahogany deckboards, “I’m just a big fuck up, you got me there.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she asserts, “I just want you to really think about this before doing anything… rash.” 

“I’m not going to run away and fucking marry her the first chance I get, ok?” he sneers, “Just—chill the fuck out.” 

“Dieter, let me be perfectly honest with you,” she drops her cigarette and crushes it with the toe of her beige pump, “I worry it’s more than you just being cunt-struck again.”

His head jerks back and he scoffs. 

She lowers her voice to a pleading tone, “Look, you’re falling headfirst into a serious relationship with this girl, she used to deal drugs, there’s all this shady stuff with her business, and… I just—I worry, are you, you know… are you ok?” 

“Am I ok?” he repeats the question, drenching it with incredulity, “What the fuck do you mean, am I ok?”

She studies his face, crossing her arms. A meaningful tilt of her head tells him everything he needs to know. 

His jaw gnashes from side-to-side and he shakes his head, “I’ve been clean for months, Darlene, because of her.” 

“Alright,” she raises her eyebrows and blinks, “Good.”

“Do you believe me?”

Darlene shrugs, “If you say you’re ok, you’re ok.” 

Bullshit.

“I am,” he confirms, his voice firm and final. 

“Great,” she nods, then pulls out her phone and looks at the screen, “Alright, well, I’ll keep an eye on things after the interview drops and let you know how it goes.” 

She stomps past him, the click-clack of her heels echoing out behind her, and exits out the side gate. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, shaking his hands out at his sides, rolling his neck as he starts towards the glass patio door.

Dieter walks beside you as the hostess leads the way through the busy restaurant. Everything around him is white noise. It doesn’t matter at all. 

All that exists is his palm on the small of your back. His whole universe has boiled down to you, right now, draped in this white, flowing chiffon dress that Kelly picked out for tonight. You, all starry-eyed and dolled up, gawking at your surroundings because you’re just so damn excited to be at another fancy-schmancy restaurant.

Earlier today, while wrapped up in his sheets, you told him all about the menu, and haute cuisine, and French culinary history, and Escoffier. He closed his eyes and held your warm body in place next to his, content to listen to you chatter on as long as you’d allow him.

He loves that about you. How passionate you are in everything you do. How you slow to appreciate beauty in things like snowstorms, and layers in croissants, and even the subtle timbre of a cello woven into his favorite song. 

“Listen close,” you told him when you pointed it out, “It’s fucking incredible.” 

He did. 

He felt the chords vibrate through him, resolute and melodic. It gave the music new meaning, and he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed it before. He notices every time he hears it now. 

But that’s what you do. 

Everything seemed so fucking boring before you. Meaningless. You opened his eyes to what was right in front of him and gave it new life. Gave him new life. 

The hostess comes to a stop and gestures to a square table, laying a menu on either side of the white linen. You sit across from him and meet his gaze, face all lit up with that gorgeous fucking smile that makes his chest tighten. 

“Do you have a strategy in mind here?” he asks, leaning forward onto the table, rubbing his hands together, “Food, wine, dessert, the whole nine yards?”

“I love that movie,” you comment mildly, “Bruce Willis is hot.” 

He raises his eyebrows. 

“What?” you laugh.

“Bruce Willis, really?”

You study him, clearly very entertained, “Why, are you jealous?”

He scoffs at this, “No—I’m just saying, though, he’s never even been nominated for an Oscar—”

“Oh, well in that case,” you roll your eyes and let out this dramatic sigh. 

Dieter laughs and shakes his head, “Wow.”

“Ok, but really,” you turn your attention back to the menu. As you survey it, you tilt your head back and forth thoughtfully, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. A mischievous smirk plays on your lips and you ask, “Did Darlene say we were allowed one glass or one bottle of wine?”

Dieter taps an index finger to his chin and grins, “I recall her saying bottle, don’t you?”

“Mmmm, yep, now that you mention it, I’m like… 99% sure she said bottle,” you agree conspiratorially. 

He smiles up at you, but his breath hitches when something behind you catches his eye. 

Or, someone, rather. 

A bright tangerine dress tight around her petite, curvy frame. Loose chestnut curls flowing down her back. Glowing brown eyes locked onto his. A small smirk plays on her plump, shiny lips. 

His spine straightens and he mutters under his breath, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

You frown and follow his gaze to Lilly Stokes just as she pushes her chair back and starts towards the table. 

“Dieter, hiiii,” Lilly croons, squeezing his forearm, “How are you, Pookie? It’s been a minute.” 

Dieter watches your eyes flick between Lilly’s hand on his suit jacket, and her face, and Dieter’s face. He watches the gears turn. The light bulb turns on. Your eyebrows shoot up and you meet his gaze, then immediately drop your eyes to the tablecloth. 

“Fine,” he answers and leans back in his chair, pulling his arm from her grasp.  

Lilly glances back at her table, then to Dieter, “I’m here with Jay—you remember Jay, right?” 

Dieter blinks at her, thinking, “We’ve been inside you at the same time, of fucking course I remember Jay.”

But what he says is, “Yeah.” 

“Oh, duh,” Lilly waves off the obvious, then wets the seam of her mouth, eyes dragging along Dieter’s body, “We should merge tables so we can catch up.” 

“Oh, no—” Dieter shakes his head and gestures to you, “We’re—”

Lilly finally seems to notice your presence and turns towards you, “Oh my god, Dieter, she’s so cute, are you two on a date?”

“Yeah,” he meets your eyes for a moment before telling Lilly, “This is Louella.”

“Lou-el-la,“ Lilly repeats, enunciating each syllable like she’s trying to commit it to memory, “You don’t mind, do you, beautiful?” 

You stare at her for a beat like you’re trying to figure out what she’s asking, then stammer, “Me? Wh—I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s ok if we join you?” Lilly nods, batting her false eyelashes. She asks this in a condescending way, slowing her words down like she’s asking a toddler. 

Your throat croaks as you look from her, to Dieter, who’s mentally pleading, “Please no,” then back to Lilly, “Uhh—I mean, sure?”

He deflates as Lilly calls Jay over and pulls out a chair. You mouth, “Sorry.”

Jay Blackburn, who looks like a poor man’s Alexander Skarsgård but six inches shorter, saunters over, a lopsided grin plastered on his smug face, “Bravo. Long time no see.” 

“Yeah,” Dieter responds, shifting in his seat at the reminder. 

Across the table, you gnaw away at your bottom lip, eyes downcast, your bubbling excitement replaced with this raw, nervous energy. He soaks it up like a sponge. It trickles down his backbone and seeps into his bloodstream as he wrings his hands together. 

“Who do we have here?” Jay asks, dragging his eyes along your body, drinking in your beauty with zero fucking shame. 

Dieter’s jaw clenches and cocks to one side. His leg starts to bounce. 

“I’m Louella.”

A warm smile crosses your face and you extend a hand to him. 

Jay takes it in his like a baby bird and presses a kiss into your knuckles, then releases you, “Jay Blackburn.”

“Oh—um, nice to meet you,” you say, glancing at Dieter, then at Lilly, “And you are?”

Lilly bristles at this, huffing a little before her mask of sweetness goes back up and she responds, “Lilly Stokes.” 

“So nice to meet you,” you look from her to Jay, “Are you guys actors, too?” 

“Um, no,” Lilly lets out this half-chuckle, half-scoff, “That’s so funny. No. Well, maybe someday. But for now I’m just a makeup artist, content creator, brand ambassador for Wowie Zowie Cosmetics, and model,” she counts each role on her fingers, then adds as an afterthought, “Jay is a wellness guru.”

You furrow your brow, “Wellness… guru?”

“Lifestyle coach,” Jay corrects, “Shepherding people to wellness through mindfulness, yoga, and nutrition.”

Dieter rolls his eyes. 

“Ohhh,” you nod, “Wow, you’re both, like, really popular on the internet?” 

“I have over 10 million followers,” Lilly advises, “So, yeah.”

“She didn’t know who I was, either, if that makes you feel better,” Dieter teases, casting a smirk your way. 

You wince and shrug, “Yeah, I, umm… live under a rock, I guess. Sorry.” 

“I like that,” Jay says, still eyeing you up like you’re a piece of fucking meat, “It’s refreshing. We should all be so lucky to be sheltered from the world in such a digital age.”

You raise your eyebrows, “I mean, I read the newspaper every day, so I’m very much aware of what’s going on in the world—“

“Right, but,” Jay starts.

“—Just, you know, stuff that matters.” 

A stunned sort of silence falls over the table for a moment, then laughter erupts from Dieter’s throat. You grin at him, and Jay must think you were kidding, because he joins in on the laughter. 

“You’re funny,” Lilly flashes this smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, then lets out an exasperated sigh and looks around, “Are we going to get some fucking service here or what?” 

Throughout the meal, you remain quiet. 

You don’t share your thoughts on the cuisine, or the wine, or the world-renowned chef. Your face stays painfully neutral as Lilly and Jay dominate the conversation, going on and on in a masturbatory fashion about their busy lives. 

More than anything, Dieter wants to tell them to fuck off. He wants to tell them that neither of you fucking care about subscribers or algorithms or sponsorships. He wants to comment on the restaurant’s heavy-handed use of bear décor and kiss you and tell you he loves you. 

But Darlene’s warning to be on his best behavior rings in his head. 

Despite this, the one bottle of wine you agreed upon is easily negotiated up to two. 

After the plat principal is cleared from the table, Lilly leans towards Dieter and asks “So, what’s new with you? We haven’t heard from you in, what,” she turns to Jay for confirmation, “Months?”

“Summer, I think?” Jay supplies. 

“Yeah,” Dieter nods and looks up at you, watching the way you wiggle in your chair and look down at your lap. He shrugs, “I’ve been keeping busy.”

“I see how it is,” Lilly pouts, glancing between his eyes and mouth, “Pookie gets a girlfriend and forgets all about us.”

Heat rises to his face. Every muscle in his body clenches. A hundred violent images flash through his head. The words shut the fuck up wrestle their way up his throat. 

“How did you all meet?” you ask, plastering on this polite smile. 

Lilly combs her long fingernails through her hair, “I met Dieter at some fundraising gala last year.”

Dieter’s leg starts bouncing. He leans his elbows into the table and presses his closed fist against his lips, watching you absorb this information. But he can’t get a read on you. 

“She introduced us,” Jay nods to Lilly, “Yeah, we were at this party, it was fucking wild—”

“Lua doesn’t wanna hear about that,” Dieter cuts in, dropping a hand to the table.

“It’s fine, Dee,” you chuckle, then take a big swallow from your wine glass. Unconvincing. 

Jay ignores Dieter’s protest, “It was one of those nights where everyone got very well acquainted with one another, if you know what I mean.” 

Your fake smile twitches. 

“Sounds… hot,” you offer. You empty the remaining pinot grigio in your glass down your throat. Dieter mirrors the action, taking the wine like a shot of hard liquor. 

Lilly sips her martini and lets out this wistful little sigh, “Soooo hot.” 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you announce as you push your chair back, then hurry away from the table before anyone else can respond. 

His blood boils. 

He glares between Jay and Lilly, well aware of the slew of insults percolating at the tip of his tongue, held back by his awareness of the public eye surrounding them.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Lilly says.

Dieter grits his teeth and warns, “Lillith—”

She waves him off and starts towards the bathroom. 

“Dieter,” Jay smirks, tilting his head, “You seem upset.” 

“What an astute observation,” Dieter mutters, crossing his arms over his chest, “Fucking incredible.“ 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jay raises his eyebrows, “So we’re touchy, ok. Is it because I told the story?” 

Dieter says nothing, just grinds his teeth together. 

“She doesn’t know about your more salacious hobbies, I take it?” 

“She sure as fuck does now,” Dieter grumbles, “Thank you for that.” 

Jay scoffs, “What, is this your first date or something?”

“No.”

Jay hums and takes a sip from his cocktail. 

Dieter shakes his head. Scrubs a hand over his face. 

Then he sits up and points at your empty seat, “If she’s going to hear about that shit from anyone, it should be me. Not some fucking ghouls just trying to get a rise out of her.” 

“Then why didn’t she hear it from you?” Jay questions, pausing a beat before he sighs, “You know, you gotta own your demons, man. It’s not my fault you didn’t tell her—”

“Yeah, I fucking know, ok?” Dieter snips. He leans his elbows against the table, looking towards the women’s bathroom, “What’s taking them so goddamn long?”

Behind the roar of the flushing toilet, you hear the bathroom door open, followed by the sharp click of stilettos against ceramic tile. You open the stall door to find Lilly leaned up against the marble slab countertop, pulling a tiny silver canister from her clutch. 

She looks up at the mirror and makes eye contact with you, “Hey, girl.” 

“Hi,” you smile politely and approach the sink. 

While you wash your hands, you watch Lilly through the mirror as she cuts two thin lines of coke right on the countertop. She fishes a short straw out of her purse and holds it out to you, “Do you want any?”

The ghost of cocaine’s allure sends your heart racing. It’s tempting, but you decline. She shrugs and leans over the counter. You look away and hear the two deep, short breaths through the straw. You swear you can feel the rush vicariously. 

She sits up straight and keeps one nostril plugged closed, taking a few sharp inhales, making sure she got it all to the brain. Her eyes flutter and throat hums with contentment, “Fuck, that’s good. You sure you don’t want any? 

“I’m fine,” you assure her, but don’t go to leave. You lean one hip against the sink and cross your arms, “Did you and Dieter, like… date?” 

Lilly releases a chuckle, a sniffle, then rubs a fingertip against the white marble countertop where her blow was cut, “Oh, no. We fucked, like, a lot. But no, we never dated per se. It was more of a fuck buddy arrangement. No biggie.” 

She scrubs her finger against her gums, then turns to the mirror to assess her appearance. 

“Was that while he was still with Anika?” 

“Well, yeah, that’s how it started. He asked if I could be their third,” she sniffles a few times as she examines her nostrils, “I know Kate Ridley was seeing them for a while, but that must’ve fallen through. Anyway, we all fucked around and it was fun. I brought Jay with a few times. Then Anika got turned off or something, she didn’t wanna get together anymore. Jealous I think, probably. He reached out to me for some one-on-one time.” 

The information hits you like a slap in the face. A kick in the gut. A fist closed around your windpipe, squeezing tighter and tighter.  

You can’t breathe. 

“And of course I said yes. It doesn’t hurt to cozy up to a guy like him, with his connections and all. Good career move. Plus, he’s so good in bed. Fucks like an animal,” Lilly giggles, “Not that I have to tell you, right?”

Your face heats and lips part to respond, but she continues without regard. 

“If you ever wanted a third, I’d be happy to step in. Jay, too, I’m sure of it. He was checking you out. You’re hot, you know, in a non-traditional kind of way. How long have the two of you been going out?”

She stares at you, waiting. Your throat croaks and you hear yourself say, “A few months, officially.”

“Oh, are you two, like, serious?” 

You bring your hand to your throat and nod, “Yeah.”

“Weird,” she murmurs, “After what happened with Anika, I thought he was done trying to pretend he was like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… monogamous, you know. He told me he’s a free spirit, doesn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again, all that. Then he disappears and re-emerges in a supposedly serious relationship, no offense, but it’s just confusing.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, frowning down at the floor, “Well, maybe he changed?” 

“The man is almost 50, I doubt that,” she scoffs, checking herself out in the mirror, then glances over at you, “Or, I mean, maybe? Hopefully?” 

You nod solemnly and swallow the knot in your throat, “Should we go back?” 

“Sure,” she shrugs, then leads the way out of the bathroom, into the dining room. 

When you meet Dieter’s eyes, his annoyed expression goes slack. You lay one hand flat, palm facing the ceiling, balling the other into a thumbs up on top, and raise both hands. The signal he taught you back in your apartment before this clusterfuck started: Help. 

Once seated, you keep your eyes low, trying to keep the steady hum in your chest from amplifying. Everything seems fuzzy and out-of-focus.

It’s too much. Too much noise. Too much information. Too much change at one time. You want off this fucking ride. You want to be home in bed, hidden under the covers where no one can reach you. 

“We should go,” Dieter announces from far away. 

Your body is cement. Limbs frozen. Lilly’s words play on repeat at a deafening volume: 

I thought he was done trying to pretend he was like that.

He’s a free spirit, doesn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again. 

“Oh, come on, Pookie–”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, then softer, in your direction, “Are you ready, love?”

You nod, then look from Lilly to Jay, your smile wavering, “It was nice to meet you both.”

Dieter leads you past blurry tables of shiny, well-to-do patrons, his hand at the small of your back, burning through your dress. You can feel his gaze glued to your profile, trying to assess the damage. You can hear the words queued up behind his closed lips. 

A restaurant employee holds the door open for you. The cool night air kisses your heated, buzzing skin. 

“Hey, are you ok?” Dieter asks, his thumb working against your spine. 

You look down at the sidewalk and open your mouth to tell him, but it’s all a jumbled mess at the base of your tongue. Fire rises up your throat and tingles behind your eyes. You just shake your head and smother the sob in your chest. 

Tears bloom in your eyes and drop to the cement. You croak out, “I’m fine.”

He scoffs. 

The valet rolls up in Dieter’s cartoonish, pea soup-colored two-seater and tosses him the keys. 

Once inside, you clasp the seatbelt. Grip the leather upholstery. Stare out the side window as the landscape starts to move. 

“Louella” he coos, glancing between you and the road. 

The car clunks a little as he shifts gears. You grip the seat tighter. Watch the city lights fly by. 

He tries every once and a while to talk to you, but you can’t make yourself respond. 

You’ve been here before. 

You know what happens if you make a sound. If you vocalize the protest in your lungs.

What happens next is acceleration. 

Car horns. 

Impact. 

Those vacant black eyes. 

Darkness.

The second the car pulls into Dieter’s garage, you’re unfastening the seat belt. 

When he shifts to park, you yank on the door handle and scramble from the vehicle. 

The entryway door slams in Dieter’s face as you kick off the stupid high heels you never would have picked out for yourself. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” his voice booms through the house when he opens the door. 

By now, you’re halfway down the hall, making a beeline to his en suite bathroom, leaving a trail of jewelry behind you like breadcrumbs: the left earring, the right earring, bracelets, a necklace. All these brilliant ornaments Kelly loaned you to make you look more refined.

Dieter’s footsteps sound from a few paces behind as you turn into his bedroom. 

“Louella, come on. Why won’t you talk to me?”

The edge his words carry make your heart jump and your feet move faster. You hurry into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.  

He jiggles the handle, “What the fuck is this? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask. 

“That I slept with Lilly and Jay?“ he scoffs, “I didn’t think it mattered who I fucked before you—”

“That’s not what I mean. You know that’s not what I mean,” you press your forehead against the door and squeeze your eyes closed, “When I asked you what happened with you and Anika, you said the two of you grew apart. That—that she was resentful—like it was her fault–”

“Open the door so we can talk about this,” he says in a low voice, “Please, baby.”

You shake your head, whimpering, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The door handle jiggles again, “Come on, Lua, open the door.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, just unlock it���”

“Answer me.”

“GodDAMNIT–” 

A hard thud shakes the doorframe. 

You jump back and yelp. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” he seethes, “Lock yourself in my fucking bathroom instead of talking to me. You realize how fucking stupid that is, right?” 

He hits the door again. You scramble away from it, watching the doorknob rattle. 

“Stop it, Dieter,” you cry out, backing yourself up to the wall, “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you?” he scoffs, his words still steeped in red, “Do you really think I would fucking hurt you?”

You slide down the wall and collapse into a pile, covering your head. All you can hear are your own shattered breaths. 

A few quiet moments go by. 

When his voice comes again, it’s a plea. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You look up at the door and sniffle, wiping your eyes. 

“I—I wanted to tell you. I mean, I was going to tell you. I swear to god. It’s just,” there’s a soft thump against the door, and you can picture him on the other side, forehead pressed up against it, “Do you know how hard it is to admit that you’re a piece of shit?”

You don’t say anything, just watch his still shadow beneath the door. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me to willingly show you that? I mean, fuck. How–how are you supposed to trust me now?” 

What follows is silence. Broken up by occasional sniffles and wet, labored breaths. Your chest aches.

Slowly, you rise to your feet and pad across the cool tile floor. 

When you reach the door, you don’t say anything, just press your palm against the barrier where you think his heart is. And you swear, if you concentrate hard enough, you can feel its steady rhythm.

“How are you supposed to love me now?” he whispers, “You won’t even look at me, Louella.”

Your eyelids clamp shut and you take a deep breath. Then you step back and turn the doorknob, pulling the door open. 

And there he is. 

Dieter Bravo. The man you love. 

His eyes all puffed-up and red-rimmed, cheeks streaked with tears. Every handsome feature laced with remorse. 

You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his suit jacket. He envelops you in a warm embrace and squeezes you tight. 

“I’m–I’m sorry for yelling,” he tells you in a hoarse whisper, petting your hair, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I lost it.”

You swallow hard and rub his back, a silent kind of reassurance. 

“I would never hurt you, Lua,” his voice cracks, “I’m not him. I’m not him.”

Instantly, tears flood your eyes. 

“I know, love,” you croak out, pulling him closer, “I know.”

Dieter kisses the crown of your head with reverence. Then your forehead. He tilts your chin to face him dead on, grazing his nose against yours, “Wanna talk about this more in the bath?”

You nod and weave your fingers through the curls at the back of his head. His lips meet yours, lingering for a tender moment before he pulls back and makes his way over to the soaking tub. 

While you wash the makeup off your face, he fiddles with the water temperature and crumbles a magenta bubble bar in the stream. The sweet scent of blackcurrant fills the air. You glance up in the mirror and see him shucking off his suit jacket, eyes trailing down your spine. His breath heats the nape of your neck when he draws close and unzips your dress, his movements gentle and slow as he slides it off your shoulders. 

The dress falls at your feet. You turn to face him, murmuring, “Look up.”

He does, and you set to work on his shirt buttons. When you’re halfway down his chest, he asks, “Will you tell me what she said?”

“She, um,” you pause to bite down on your bottom lip, then sigh, “She told me you and Anika would fuck around with her and sometimes Jay. Then, you know, just her.”

He hums in acknowledgment. 

You reach the end of his button-down, then spread the shirt apart. As he takes over tugging it off, you ask, “Was that something that you wanted, or…?”

“We both wanted to try it,” he shrugs. Your hands move to his belt buckle and you unfasten it. He continues, “Thought it would reignite that passion. It was fucking stupid because it just made us both jealous.”

He pauses to kick off his slacks, then ushers you face the mirror again. You watch him unclasp your bra and toss it aside, glancing up when you recount, “She said you didn’t want to be tied down by one person ever again.“

He nods, diverting his gaze, “Yeah. Well, that’s true. I didn’t,” then his eyes return to yours, “But then you came along. Fucked up all my big plans to be lonely and miserable forever.” 

You can’t help but grin. 

He casts a backwards glance at the tub, “I think it’s ready.” 

Dieter gets in first, groaning as he lowers himself into the bubbles. You sit on the opposite side and tip your face to the ceiling, stretching your legs across him, then sink down to your shoulders. 

The water burns your skin a little, but you like it. It feels real. 

“Hey,” Dieter rumbles. 

You swivel your head down to look at him, but can only see bubbles.

“Holy shit,” you giggle, then sit up and meet his eyes, “What?”

“Come here, doll,” he reaches out to you.

You slide your feet under the water and crawl over to him, closing your eyes as you lay your cheek on his shoulder and relax against his body. He wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling you like you’re his favorite teddy bear. 

One of your hands occupies itself by absentmindedly tracing the edges of his jaw. The shell of his ear. That one silver hoop earring he refuses to part with. Your nails work into his hairline and play with his damp curls. 

“Were there others?” you ask him. 

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, then he admits, “Yeah. A few. Just hookups, really. Lilly was the most consistent, and that was still, you know…”

“No strings attached?” you smirk. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why did you do it?” 

Your spine arches as he draws a big breath in, then releases it, “All the reasons I said it didn’t work. That was true, you know. I was gone a lot. Filming, meetings, press stuff. A few days here, a week there. There was one stretch where I was gone for two months. I’m not drowning in work or anything, but it adds up. I don’t think she realized that being with me meant being away from me that often. And. Yeah. 

“At first, it upset me a lot. I thought she would be supportive and loving. Compassionate, you know. But she turned so cold when she was mad. Completely ignored me. Acted like I didn’t exist. Even when I begged for her reassurance, for her to show me she still cared and noticed me, but she wouldn’t react. I felt like a ghost. It-it kind of reminded me—”

He pauses here for a moment, holding his breath, then releases a soft, sad chuckle. His Adam’s apple bobs. When he starts again, his voice is watery. 

“It reminded me of what it was like for me growing up. If I didn’t please my dad, he would ignore me completely. I would act out, be loud, push him until he exploded. Because then… then at least I knew he could see me. It was something, you know?”

You blindly cup his cheek and graze your thumb against his beard to let him know you’re listening. He nuzzles into the touch, a small rumble sounding from his throat. 

“Maybe I was acting out with Annie? Or maybe just trying to… fill that emptiness, loneliness. Or numb out. Forget that my wife didn’t love me anymore. I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter. I started using again. Heroin, oxy, bars, morphine, adderall, booze. Whatever I could get my hands on, really. But blow has always been my favorite. It makes me feel…”

“Powerful?”

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah. Powerful. And with other people I actually felt… desired. Plus, they were both a rush. I felt alive. When I was home I was hollow. I stopped groveling for her affection when I started fucking around. Neither of us wanted to work on the hard things. The whole fucking thing, you know, it metastasized. And—and our relationship died.” 

“Fuck,” you grimace. 

Dieter cranes his neck to look at you, “Too bleak?”

“No, it’s not that,” you tell him, “It’s just… familiar.”

Adrenaline spikes your bloodstream. Your mouth opens to say more, then you close it and hold your breath. 

He rests his cheek on your head. Squeezes you a little tighter. Like he’s prodding you so say more. 

“Do I make you happy?” you ask him. 

“Do you make me happy?” he repeats, disbelief raising his voice an octave. 

You nod.

“I told you earlier,” he kisses your hairline, “You make me so happy, Louella.” 

“But will you feel the same tomorrow?” 

“Obviously,” he lets out a little snort of laughter like he thinks you’re kidding. Silence settles. His body seems to tense and he adds, “Really, love, I mean it.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip. Brows lace together. Then you ask, “What about a month from now?”

“Don’t do that, come on—”

“A year from now? Or—or longer, even—”

“Lua,” he huffs, then pulls you up to face him. His eyes are soft and pleading. He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Look, we won’t be happy every second of every day. You know why?”

A sharp pain radiates across your chest. You wince and shake your head. 

He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes and says, “Because it’s fucking impossible. If we do this thing right, which I fully intend to, sometimes we’re going to be scared, and frustrated, and–and we might want to take an easy way out. But I’m telling you that I will not do that. Because I love you.” 

You search his face and only find sincerity. Your stomach flips in a freefall so violent it makes you gasp, “Fuck, I love you.”

He smirks, gaze flicking between your eyes and lips, “And I’m going to love you tomorrow.” 

Your heart skips. Heat creeps up your neck. 

He cups your cheeks and locks his eyes onto yours, “And the next day, and ten years from now, and all the way until my next fucking life, ok?” 

“Ok,” you nod. Tension liquifies and drains from your body. The corners of your mouth upturn and you ask, “What then?” 

“What then?” he snorts, shaking his head with amusement, “What do you think? Hmm?”

You grin and shrug, pressing the tip of your tongue to your front teeth. 

His eyes drop to your mouth and he pulls you in for a kiss. When you part, he murmurs, “I’ll fucking find you in the next life and fall in love with you all over again.”

The words electrify you. You hook your hands behind his head and press your forehead against his, “Promise?” 

“Cross my heart,” he murmurs, and kisses you again.

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo angst #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble fic

[lesbianwriter]

I read this super cool snippet where the reason why a group of pirates survived a siren attack is because they sang back to them. So imagine a villain x civilian scenario where civilian unintentionally saves a group of pirates because her singing voice is just as wonderful as a siren. She is sold to wealthy pirates who use her gift to traverse deadly waters, until one voyage where her voice isnt enough to save one or multiple crew members. They throw her overboard as some sort of sacrifice, only for her to be saved the powerful siren (villain) because she gained her respect.

I know you already wrote siren song so maybe change it up a bit if you want. I really want to see what you do with this idea

Thank you for this ask :), your ideas are so creative and I enjoyed writing this so hopefully I put it to justice lol

Sweat dripped down the side of Civilian’s face. She knew what was waiting for her, and she felt too sick to face it—but she didn’t have a choice.

Captain shoved her onto deck, her knees smacking down to the ground and her palms landing against the splintery wood. She bit back a whimper of pain because the last thing she needed now was more humiliation. Captain then dragged the chain on her wrist and yanked her back up to her feet with a snarl. “Get up!”

The sun beamed down on the crowd of angry, snarling faces already around her. Her voice had saved her many times, from sirens, and had doomed her just as many times, being the reason she was sold to pirates…the problem was that she didn’t know which one this would be. Could she charm her way out of this with honeyed words or would the honey become sticky in her mouth and make her sound like a fool? But her mouth opened and the words spilled out before she could think.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen…I…I—I don’t know what went wrong, but I wasn’t trying to—to sabotage you all or anything—“ Civilian rambled, trying to reason with the scowling faces.

“Our best navigator was drowned by a siren while you were supposed to be saving him, and because of you we are now in the dead center of siren territory!” Captain roared, enunciating his words with a strong shove to her back, making her stumble forward and almost fall again. “We spent a lot of money on you!”

Civilian fumbled for words. “I’m sorry, I don’t know—“ Sometimes words came easy, laced with sweetness, and other times words came shaky and jagged.

Today was not a good day for words.

She looked up at Captain with eyes large as saucers. “I’ll do better.” She swore. “Please, sir…I’ve never failed before, and it won’t happen again.” Maybe she could appeal to the rare but sometimes visible side of him that did like her, that didn’t want to throw her over the side of the ship for siren food.

“It’s too late for that.” As he grasped her shoulder, the rest of the pirates jeered and cheered.

“Wait, wait—please!” The chains tightened around her wrists as she dragged her feet, the waves of blue getting steadily closer. “We’re in the middle of siren territory! How will you make it back to shore without me to protect you?!”

“You’ve already proven to be defective!” A crew member with an eyepatch argued, and the captain nodded in agreement.

“We can distract ‘em long enough with you to sail away!” Another added.

A sinking feeling rose in Civilian’s stomach.

Which she supposed was appropriate because before she could blink, she was suddenly falling, and she didn’t have time to take a breath before she hit the water with a splash and began to sink, the sound of jeering and the sight of Captain slowly fading and becoming distant ripples as her body got heavier…and heavier…and heavier.

…

Her lungs burned.

A fire roared in her throat. She wanted to scream and gasp for air…

She felt so heavy yet so weightless. She itched to swim, to survive, but her body wasn’t moving. The chain around her wrist rippled in the water. She watched it sway, the bubbles rising around it, and as she stared at it, part of her seemed to accept drowning while the other part—her lungs, her throat—screamed to stay alive…

Then, she felt an arm around her waist.

-

-

Civilian gasped and coughed as she hit the sand. Something hit her in the stomach, and a spurt of water spilled from her mouth and burned her throat.

She rolled onto her other side, feeling the sand in her fingers and realizing…I’m not dead. Sucking in each breath as if it were her last—and she nearly had taken her last breath—she tried to think about what had happened, but her brain was all muddled, as if all the sand in her ears had made its way to her brain. She tried instead to check her senses. Civilian could feel the sand and the sun beaming down on her back. She was so soaked that she could’ve laid on the sand for hours in the heat and her clothes wouldn’t dry. And she could smell…fish. She could hear someone’s breathing next to her.

Panting, she turned and saw a siren staring at her, her sharp green eyes trained on the human.

“Why couldn’t you save yourself?”

“W—what?” Civilian coughed again. The siren crawled closer, smacking her in the stomach again. “What are you doing?” She wheezed.

“Doesn’t it help get the water out?”

“It’s…no, It’s not helpful.” Civilian had never been this close to a siren before, and her eyes widened as her eyes met the creature’s. Suddenly, she shrieked and scrabbled back as it hit her: that was a siren. Even more, she recognized that siren.

It was the same one that had drowned the navigator.

The siren smiled, her sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. “Don’t be scared,” if her smile was meant to be reassuring, all it did was make Civilian’s breath come quicker. “I’m Villain. I’ve heard about you—the human that lulls sirens with her voice.”

“I remember you. You—you killed the navigator.” She remembered those eyes, those emerald eyes and that smirk as she cradled the navigator in her arms and dragged the poor fool under the water.

After the navigator had been drowned, Captain wasn’t immediately mad…annoyed, yes, very much so, but he hadn’t thrown her in chains yet. Though, what tipped him over the edge was when the ship ended up in the dangerous siren territory that even the most ruthless captains avoided. That was when he started to scream. That was when he threw her into the cells and started shoving, kicking and dragging. It was as if he forgot the times when he had tolerated her, maybe even liked her, as more than a prisoner he had bought and instead he cursed her instead as a faulty talisman, a scam, and agreed with the demand of the crew to sacrifice her.

Civilian hadn’t particularly wanted to be with Captain, not as a friend nor a lover, but aligning herself in his good graces had afforded a scant amount of security.

Whenever she had one of her good days where the her voice was laced charms and sweetness, she used it on Captain to try and earn favor.

And this siren had crushed all of that.

How come she hadn’t been able to subdue this siren with her voice? It had worked on every siren before, even if she had to strain her voice or sing louder for some than others, but the fact she never failed is what had made her price so steep when Captain had bought her for protection. What was different about this green-eyed siren?

She cleared her throat, swallowing back a wince at the burning feeling still raging in her throat. “What do you want?”

The siren stopped smiling, peering at Civilian and peeling a piece of seaweed off the human’s shoulder. “I respect you, and you deserve better than being a prisoner in that pirate ship. Don’t you think that too? Or were you having fun wooing the captain?”

Civilian’s face flushed, and she suddenly sat up, spurting more water. “How do you know that?”

“I was watching.” The siren laughed softly, a gentle laugh. “You can’t trust captains, human.”

“And I can trust you?”

“For now.” The siren responded, her head tilted. “I’m Villain. Your name?” Her eyes were piercing. Haunting. Beautiful.

Sirens were deceptive creatures. Gorgeous—so beautiful that illustrations and paintings never seemed to capture their true radiance, no artist able to immortalize the supernatural aura about them—but rotten on the inside and thrice as cunning as any monarch.

Looking away, she cleared her throat quickly. “Civilian. What…what is it that you want from me? You saved me from the pirates, for what? What’s your goal, Villain?” She tried to exhume more confidence than she had. Her voice had failed her enough today, she had to pull herself together and remember her gift.

“I wanted better for you. I respect you, Civilian…you have a special power that I’ve never seen in another human.” Villain replied, her hand brushing Civilian’s cheek softly. “I want to know more about you. Maybe we could even work together…get revenge on your captain, maybe? They bought you and held you as a prisoner, mistreated you when you weren’t perfect, through your overboard for a mistake…”

Civilian panted heavily.

Did she want revenge?

When she thought about it, no, she really didn’t—she didn’t know what she wanted since her entire life since she accidentally saved that one shop years ago was about others, not her. But she didn’t have anywhere to go. No money, no prospects.

Maybe she would work with Villain.

#SORRY I HAVE BEEN GONE FOREVER #civilian x villain #wlw #writing snippet #mermaid x human #thank you anon <3

[whatandroidsdreamof]

No Saints for Drowning

“I should’ve drowned. I should’ve died with him that night. I still drown every time someone touches me.”

“I don’t want you to drown.” She wanted him to live. To smile and call her pet names with that teasing curl of his lips. She wanted his fingers to braid her hair, skillet bread in the mornings, Kerch’s lawmakers at their mercy, and slavers put to the gallows by dinner. There was a future to their combined dreams.

“There are no Saints for drowning, Kaz, only for those who are lost at sea.” I’ll guide you to shore, she vowed, Saints protect him.

“I told you before, I have no need for your Saints, Inej.” “But you do have a need for me.”

#

Inej comes back from her first sea voyage, and they seize the opportunity to work through their issues together.

Read the first chapter here on AO3 or under the line.

1 Kaz

The Crows made a lot of enemies. Kaz made it his business to keep a step ahead of them. To learn their secrets in case one of them decided to move against them.

Of course, this only worked with enemies he knew he’d made, the people he’d crossed, never the pawns he put to the sidelines, never the nameless people of the lower ranks he decided to sacrifice. Knowing where he’d come from, born out of darkness, sickness, and drowning at nine years old; was it any wonder that someone else would grow up to become just as ruthless and cruel as him? Was it really so unlikely that another person would lull themselves to sleep each night with thoughts of vengeance on their mind and his name on their lips, the same way he’d done for all these years with Pekka Rollins name on his?

He didn’t remember the woman’s name. He didn’t remember her face. They’d met more than once, she claimed. Now she stood tall against the night. She had light hair and wore a simple black mask. Her clear blue eyes burned into what was left of his soul.

“Where is she?” Kaz growled, his breath hung in white puffs in the chill air. He’d run all the way up to this little jetty near the Sweet Reef. His sides ached, his cane was the only thing that kept his bad leg from trembling. The water in front of them was a dark scrying mirror. It had gone quiet. They were far from the bustle of Ketterdam. Far away from his people.

The woman held a lantern in front of her. The only source of light. Behind her on the jetty, a tall rectangular shape stood in relief against the moonlight.

Dirtyhands’ fingers itched for a gun, a throat to squeeze. He couldn’t kill her yet, needed answers first.

“Where is Inej?”

The woman’s mouth stretched crooked, and it took him a second to recognize it as a smile. Her eyes stayed cold.

“My husband told me if you want to destroy someone you have to go for the heart.”

He knew he’d heard these words before. His pulse was going too fast, his lungs smarted. He’d walked into her trap and Kaz needed his wits to make sure Inej and he walked out of it alive. He should’ve picked her up from the harbor the minute his spies had laid eyes on the Wraith. Damn his pride. Damn this insistent fear of losing her.

“I have to say it wasn’t easy to find the right place to cut. Imagine my surprise when I understood that the infamous Dirtyhands has a heart after all.”

Dread plummeted into his stomach like cold lead.

“I put your heart in a box, Mister Brekker. How fast can you swim?” and with that she pulled a lever behind her. The tall box splashed into the still sea ­­– Tall as a coffin, he thought, heart skipping a beat.

He didn’t hear her laughter or her taunts. He threw aside his cane and plunged. The cold was enough to steal his breath.

No time for drowning, he thought, when icy dead hands started to reach for him.

Kaz kicked his legs. Felt the current the sinking coffin made and followed. Jordie embraced him around his shoulder from behind, clamped his hands around his neck.

No time for drowning. No time for the dead. Inej, he thought, Inej was sinking.

His joints ached under the cold. Pain seized his leg, shot all the way up to his spine. Brought him clarity enough to reach. Kaz’s hands found the metal casing of the box. He held on. Let it drag him down. How deep were the waters?

His lungs began to hurt. He should’ve started carrying around baleen years ago. Another mistake.

“Let go, little brother,” Jordie whispered into his ear. Kaz didn’t know if his eyes were open or closed. Jordie’s pale face loomed in front of him. Bloated features, with corpse-fluid strained lips.

“Let go. I’ve been waiting.”

Jordie’s fingers were colder than the water. They seemed to reach into his chest and twist something there.

The iron coffin jolted as it hit the seabed. A plume of debris rose up. Harbor dirt and seaweed, hands and legs of the dead brushing against him. Cold pruned flesh, soft with salt, rubbed against him. Closer and-

His clamped fingers vibrated.

Inej. She was throwing fists against the box. Kicking her legs.

There was a high pitch in Kaz’s ears. He couldn’t see. Blindly he reached for the iron coffin. There were bars on eye level. His index finger brushed against Inej’s cheek. Skin gave away under his gloved fingertip.

He recoiled. Air bubbled out of his mouth, precious and wasted. The noise of bursting bubbles rattled him, pulled him back enough to let him recall the lock picks inside his mouth.

Kaz clamped his legs against the side of the coffin, stuck his feet deep into mud, so he wouldn’t drift away. He rolled off his gloves. Let the dead have them. If Inej died tonight the dead could have him too, Kaz Rietveld, Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. None of them wanted to get up for air and live if it meant leaving her behind.

He almost lost his grip on his lock picks when he finally jammed them into the keyhole.

The rest was easy. The rest was hard.

#

He came through with Inej’s pounding fists against his sternum and a whispered mantra of: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kaz.”

Her cold wet fingers clamped his nose and chin. Her lips pressed against his opened mouth, cold and dead. Breathing for him.

A gust of body-temperature sea water burst from his mouth. He coughed and convulsed, scrambled away from her, feet unable to find purchase on the wet ground. His body spasmed. He puked up seawater and what little he had in his stomach. A gurgle was heard, before he could speak again: “Get away from me,” his voice was a croak.

She heard him. Without making a sound she got up. Kaz could feel the shift of air without having to look. He wouldn’t have seen her anyway. The jetty was dark, moon temporarily hidden behind clouds and the edges of his awareness twinned in night, in panic.

The roar inside his ears got louder. He pulled his hands to his head. Gasped and let them fall away when his own clammy fingers made contact with his skin.

“Jordie,” he couldn’t hear his own voice, only felt how his tongue formed the words against his teeth, “Leave me alone.”

For a while, Kaz’s world narrowed down to retching and trembling. His body knew what it had to do to starve off the cold, to prevent secondary drowning by expelling every last drop of seawater that had gotten into his lungs. Keep breathing. His mind on the other hand was back on the Reaper’s Barge. Floating, floating, sinking, drowning before he could ever reach Ketterdam.

Inej slapped him. Back of her hand against his cheekbone.

“Kaz, we need to get out of here.”

Had she called his name before?

It was hard to focus on her face. Her hair was plastered against her skin, like that of a corpse. He stared at her moving mouth without understanding another word. He tried to silence his heartbeat, the voice of his brother in his mind, and the high roar of panic. He was crashing, about to scrape the barrel of his adrenalin high. The analytical part of his brain was preparing for this by evening out his breathing and pulling his shoulders up.

He was a survivor.

“-catch an early death if we stay in our wet clothes. Can you get up?”

Inej held out his cane. It took him two tries to rise. His body was weak, felt far out of reach, like he was looking at himself from above. She didn’t try to help him up. Kaz didn’t know what he’d do to her if she were to touch him now.

The water that was dripping down from her body was the only sound Inej made as she kept pace with his stiff gait. It was like walking next to another harbor ghost.

“Sit down,” she said once they reached a dark alley.

He didn’t react. If he sat, he didn’t know if he’d be able to get up again without her help.

“I’ll be right back.”

Dirtyhands was still vacating the premises, and without him he was missing his resolve, but Kaz Brekker was coming back to himself in increments. The one that relied on her to do what was necessary when he could not. How easily he trusted her to get them out of here. Weak men let others do the thinking for them. Kaz found he was too exhausted to care.

He couldn’t tell how long he waited, ten minutes, an hour, half a lifetime. Jordie’s ghost felt close. If Kaz turned around he’d see him lean next to his shoulder against the cold alley wall.

Inej jumped down from the roof to his right. Always graceful, always strong. She came up and held out a bundle in front of him. So he took it. He produced the mask and cloak of the Gray Imp of the Komedie Brute.

“Put it on,” Inej said, and he followed suit.

“We’re close enough to the Lid to be recognized,” she explained as she pulled on her own mask. He glimpsed the deep frown between her brows before she pulled down the veil of the Lost Bride over her eyes. Kaz tried to take in their whereabouts, but the gray roofs and stones seemed interchangeable to every city he’d ever visited. Confronted with his own carelessness a remote unease trickled down his spine. Ketterdam was his home, his harbor, and his domain. Tonight, it had reverted back to nothing but his brother’s wet grave.

“We need to move.”

The walk into the nearest suitable East Stave tavern was a blur. Inej chose a den they wouldn’t normally frequent. Dingy and dirty but dingy and dirty enough to get them a room without being asked any questions about why two trembling tourists were dripping canal water onto the floor.

Inej told him to unmask. Told him to sit close to the fireplace, so he sat. He pushed off the blanket she put around his shoulders, couldn’t bear the weight and friction against his soaked back. Inej lit a fire, before she started walking around behind him.

Kaz concentrated on not-shivering, breathing, on not-drowning. The waves went higher, and he was tired to the bone. Let him lay among the stones and shipwrecks.

“You should get undressed. Your lips have turned blue.”

He jerked. When had he closed his eyes? Inej had pulled a blanket tight around her body like a towel. Her arms and shoulders were bare. The straps of her underthings could be seen. The rest of her clothes had been hung up behind them in the shoddy bathroom.

“Talk to me.”

“I want her dead. I’ll find out who she is, and I’ll kill everyone she ever cared about right in front of her eyes. I’ll make her believe she alone caused their demise. I’d feed her poison that summons their ghosts. I want to put her in a coffin and set her against the tides so her body can shipwreck against stones while she hallucinates hellscapes of her own mind’s invention.”

He was still shivering. He wanted to crawl into the fire, sleep among the coals. Maybe then he’d feel warm again. His wet clothes were glued to his body. If he stayed still enough his own limbs didn’t feel like that of a drowned man.

“I get that, and you will, but right now you need to get undressed, or you’ll die of lung fever before we can have our revenge.”

“Our revenge?”

“She got my saints.”

They shared a look and Kaz found his own hatred mirrored in her gaze. It frightened him to see so much of himself in her, it excited him too.

“We’ll get them back.”

“She hurt you.”

The Kaz of two hours ago would’ve denied any weakness, especially in front of her, he needed to appear infallible. He stared at his bare hands instead and let out a noncommittal hum.

“Your clothes,” Inej repeated, and when he didn’t move continued with: “I won’t look. You have your own blanket. It’s safe.”

“Nowhere in this Saint-forsaken city is safe,” Kaz said, surprised by his own vitriol.

Inej walked into the bathroom, shut the door behind her, and he was too tired to feel glad to be free of her gaze.

He knew she was right. Autumn had come early this year, with icy winds and dark gray skies. Peeling away his waistcoat, shirt, and undershirt was like peeling away the last layer of protection. Kaz avoided touching his own skin where he could and schooled his face into a blank façade.

Hobbling around to hang his clothes over furniture and in front of the fireplace helped bring back his circulation. It was routine. Didn’t require much thought. Only clad in his undergarments, he huddled into the ruddy blanket he had dismissed before. Stretched out his bad leg when he sat back down by the fire.

It took him a moment to realize that the prickle on his cheeks wasn’t drying seawater. It felt too hot for that even as he stared directly into the fireplace. He touched his fingertips against his face, shivered, let out a wet rattle of a breath. Tears.

When was the last time Dirtyhands had cried? And what for? His dead brother, his inability to function as a normal human being?

Inej came back into the room as Kaz wiped at his face with the corner of his blanket. She hovered a moment behind him before she sat down next to him on the floor in a heap.

“I didn’t think I’d get to you in time,” he confessed.

“I’m here.”

“I couldn’t see anything. There were-” but he couldn’t continue. There were hundreds of corpses pulling me under. His madness couldn’t be put into words. It was his and his alone.

“You found me, Kaz. The heart’s an arrow. Yours aimed and landed true.” Her dark eyes glinted like pools of tar against the fire. She was beautiful. Her hair in a tangle of seaweed. Bags under her eyes. With or without her silver saints she was radiant.

Sankta Inej, he thought, you’ve never been further away from me than in this room.

He hardened his heart. There had been a distance between him and the rest of the world since the day Jordie died. Tonight, the distance had grown larger.

“You’re back now. You’re okay,” she sounded scared. No that wasn’t right. She sounded afraid for him. How much of what Inej had said to him since she pulled him ashore had he missed? How many times had she called his name and not gotten a response?

Kaz’s jaw worked, ready to take aim and throw words at her like weapons. Damn her. She’d saved his life and unlike some mercher he’d repay his debts.

“I thought you had run out of air when I reached you. But I was wrong about that. I felt your body go limp when I touched you to pull you up.”

He had fainted, he realized, just like in that prisoner wagon that had taken them out to the Ice Court.  

“I’ve never seen you look at me like that when you came through. Like you didn’t recognize me at all.”

“It’s not you, Inej,” he could feel himself blush, with shame, with anger. He didn’t know.

“I understand that,” she replied indignantly. Kaz didn’t discriminate in matters of physical intimacy. A stranger’s touch made him reel and flinch as much as a friend’s when it came without a warning.

Last autumn when she’d come back to him for the first time, with new laugh lines around her eyes and smelling like the open sea, they had tried. There had been some progress, though Kaz wasn’t inclined to call it that. On some mornings he’d come down the stairs of the Van Eck residence without gloves on to have breakfast with her, Jesper, and Wylan. Other times he’d discard them sitting at his desk to write in his ledgers, while Inej sat on his windowsill. Her patience with him had seemed infinite. He’d held her hand a few times without retching. Managed to curl his body around hers for a couple of short instances without making her disappear.

Right before she had gone back to hunt slavers for the season, he’d cupped her face in his hands and wished he were a different man, whose mind and body didn’t need walls to protect itself. Brick by brick, he had thought as he had pressed his lips against hers for an instance. Brick by brick, he had repeated to himself as he had watched her ship disappear, he would tear it all down for her.

Now he only tasted dirty harbor water on his tongue. Only smelled rot and mildew as their clothes dried.

“Will you be alright?”

He didn’t answer. Inej let out a small sigh. Not even knocking on Death’s door could stop her exasperation with him. On another day it would’ve made him smile.

“If you were Jesper I’d hug you. If you were Nina, I’d go downstairs and get us something hot to eat. But you’re Kaz Brekker and I don’t know what you need if you never tell me.”

“I don’t need anything from you, Inej,” he lied.

Inej leaned her back against the leg of his chair. Her side brushed up against his throbbing knee. Blanket against blanket. It was all he could do not to jump out of his seat.

“You said you needed me. You want me to stay in Ketterdam for the winter, with you,” she made it sound so factual, like another strategic secret she’d uncovered and was delaying to him, “Has that changed?”

“No, never.”

She turned around to face him.

“Then let me help you for once. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Kaz hung his head, flexed his jaw. Harden your heart. But he couldn’t. He was weak and exhausted and the weight of years he had shouldered alone was pressing down on him, heavier than ever before.

“I don’t know how,” he confessed, feeling like a boy, sounding like a drowning man gasping for air.

“That’s okay. That’s what you have people who care about you for. It’s our job to figure out how to help you, not yours.”

He had never thought of it that way. Friendship was an exchange of favors. All his friends worked for him, after all. Inej made it sound like she and the Crows would dole them out for free unasked. He had never considered that they would. Inej always found new ways to surprise him.

“So will you let me help you?”

“The deal is the deal,” he murmured.

She didn’t shake hands with him. He wouldn’t have been able to, but she pushed against his leg with her back almost imperceptibly.

“The deal is the deal,” she agreed.

#kanej #kanej fic #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #the crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper

[my-own-walker]

The Kids Don't Wanna Come Home - Part 1

note: SURPRISE BITCHES LOOK WHO IT IS!!!! this almost didn't happen bc i lost the entire draft and had a meltdown...lmao

summary: summer with jimmy darling (pre-freakshow events)

warnings: none...for this part...

+++

‘You’re gonna get yourself killed,’ I laughed, a stitch forming in my side.

Propped up on an elbow, I watched as Jimmy hopped from one smooth rock in the stream to the next, foot slipping a bit as it made contact. A distinctly Chuck-Taylor-sneaker squeak rang out amongst the trees as he caught himself. He looked back at me and smiled bashfully.

'Jimmy!' I cried, 'you're going to get hurt!'

'I'm 'aight doll,' he shouted in reply, setting his sights on the next piece of dry Earth. He skipped over and landed rather ungracefully on the marshy shore of the other side of the water. I laughed and shook my head, laying back down on the yellow checkered blanket. Scratchy woolen fabric itched at my sticky skin.

It was summer in our sleepy Florida town. Summer was longer days, hot and sunny with warm balmy breezes. Jimmy and I ran around the woods with abandon nearly every day. It wasn't uncommon to see us lugging a blanket, some Cokes, and a portable radio across town to get to our spot.

The small radio crackled a song I couldn't quite make out next to me. We spent time together in secret, mainly. My parents were rather unkind to the idea of me hanging around 'circus folk.' It hurt Jimmy to sneak around like this, but it was the only way I could see him without being disowned.

We had plans to run away one day. Not now, but soon. The two of us had been in a constant race to grow up and grow past the teenage purgatory we had found ourselves in. Not quite old enough for freedom, not quite young enough to comply.

The hot sun was firmly centered in the bright blue Floridian sky, kissing my skin with its outstretched rays. I closed my eyes under my white-framed sunglasses and sighed. The air felt thick and wet entering my lungs. Many moments in the light drfited by. So quietly, in fact, that I must have fallen asleep as they tiptoed away, lulled by the tranquil passage.

'Y/N!' I heard a distant voice call out. My eyes fluttered open softly. 'Y/N, look!'

I sat up quickly, afraid something bad had happened to Jimmy. My eyes fell upon his figure, still across the stream, waving an object at me. My eyes hadn't adjusted to consciousness quickly enough, so I strained to see what it was. Slowly, I began to make out a bunch of flowers clutched tightly in his hand.

'I found your favorite!' he exclaimed, grin on his face. He started on his voyage back to the other side of the stream, calculating which rocks to leap onto carefully. When he reached me, I was finally able to clearly see five passion flowers guarded safely in his grasp. I gasped slightly at the sight of them.

'Jimmy! They're lovely,' I gushed, propping myself up on my elbow once again to grab at them. 'I guess it is July, huh?'

'Yeah, I guess they're in season again. They're beautiful, just like you, baby,' he smirked.

'Thank you for finding them, my beloved,' I giggled, giddy with the joy of him thinking of me, with the added bonus of him remembering my favorite type of flower. I laid back down on the blanket, flowers clasped in both of my hands.

I watched as Jimmy fanned himself, took a sip of the Coke he brought, and took his shirt off. It was a decidedly hot day. He looked down at me. His shirtless form reached down and caressed the dainty gold necklace that sat on my chest, just below my collarbones.

'You're a vision, you know that?' he sighed. 'Just a total...' he wolfwhistled, not able to find the word he was looking for. Or maybe the wolfwhistle was the word.

'You're not half-bad yourself, Darling,' I replied, with a wink. He inched closer to me so that his face floated right above mine.

'You have no idea what you do to me,' he whispered.

+++

hehehehehehehe short bc i wanna make it two parts bc why not right

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peters oneshot #jimmy darling #jimmy darling imagine #jimmy darling x reader #jimmy darling x you

[dr-scribbler]

Aval - Manimegalai

The hot and humid breeze flies through the area with the gliding sound of leaves that are trying to hold on to the branches like two lovers trying to hold on. But as the breeze gets stronger the unlucky ones are dropped to the ground to let it eaten slowly by their surroundings. Just like them, human life kinda falls apart cause of their own likeness. 

As the sun started to go down as the evening comes right away giving a promising cool breeze that is much needed for the people who are currently experiencing the last few days of summer.

As a waving air that flows through a voyage without a destiny, lotus-like feet wandered around Veeranam Lake. Eyes like fish which are clouded with only one image, with the tired and fatigued body of the innocent rose of Kadambur, the youngest princess Manimegali wandered around trying to find her love. Her love who doesn't even know or care about her. A tried smile erupted on her lips when she saw the mandapam that standing through time. As she softly went near the walls where it reads small in the corner of the stone embark on the journey of many warriors who left for war from this place.

There it is, where she had scribbled on a stone quite a while ago, it reads Vaanar kula Veeran, tham manathai venra veeran'. A sad smile itched its way onto her pale lips, with a whimper she traced those words again and again and fell down as the fatigue and fever is taking up its way into her.

Her mind traced the first instants she saw him when he came to their home, and how she was hiding to get a glimpse of his face just to feel the ecstasy of love. How her brother always talked about his friend who is not only loyal but intelligent and very quick to resolve any problems along with having a heart of gold and a child. From that moment she knew that it was him and always be him. Even when her brother told her to forget about Vaanar kula veeran and marry the prince they will fix for her she couldn't do it! how could she!.

She smiled sadly at the thought of her being angry with him when the news circled about how her Vandiyadevan backstabbed her brother. All those moments when she knew that it's not who he is and would never do it but also was scared that she is overconfident with him and would get disappointed at the end.

But how she felt relieved after knowing the truth about him and meeting him in the cellar. Just one look and she knew that she needs to do something so that he will be freed from here and can live his life. Many asked her why to take the blame for some man. But to her he is not just any man, he is hers and she is his, even though he may never know.

The small time she spent with him is more than enough for her as it felt like she had lived her life purposes. As her eyes started to drop and her mind went still she felt someone before her. Her eyes opened to see and gasped, how it was possible.

'Why is my Mani being dull?' Her loves voice made her heart skip a beat

'Vandiyadevare?' Her fatigued face brightened up, he is here finally, after all this time.

'It's me, of course! who else would be here to be with my Mani other than me' He smiled and kissed her forehead, the action made Mani feel more alive than any other medicine she ever had. She wanted this to last forever and she would gladly take any hardship if his shoulder is ready to take her head.

'I am not feeling well Vandiyadevare, and I know my time here is not for long' Her words made her heart bleed. She wants to be with him and live her life to the fullest. But she is scared that it's all going to end fast.

'My silly Mani, How would you ever leave me? We are going to be one happy couple forever. You are not going that easily away from me' She smiled at his words but her head felt heavier and her vision is going black and dizzy again.

'Vanthiyadevare-' She couldn't able to finish the sentence.

'Manimegali! Mani' Vandiyadevan's voice goes down as her dizziness got more. She took a big breathe and her vision returns to normal but before her stood her brother who is shouting her name with panic in his voice.

'Manimegali! Where have you been? We were searching for you all day. Oh, Mani!' Kandamabaran cried and lifted his little sister and ran back to the Palace. He knows he is also part of the reason why his sister feeling now. If he hadn't mentioned Vandiyadevan back then or did not made her separate from him and not sought marriage for her with some other prince maybe his sister would be happy now and married to his once best friend.

As the raja Vaithiyar examined and Mani shook his head at the Prince and his father they know there is nothing more they can do but pray and hope.

Kandamaran shook his head and wrote a letter to his ex-best friend, hoping that he would receive this sooner and make his way here for one last time. He knows that Vandiyadevan doesn't owe anything to him and his sister but as a brother he wanted his sister to have at least one last wish to come true. He heard her murmuring for Vandiyadevan while he went in search of her. At that moment he knew only Vandiyadevan can cure or give his sister the last love.

Next day

Vandiyadevan is currently riding his horse at full speed, as he received a letter from his frine dKandamaran, asking him to visit more like pleading. He can able to sense terror in his words and with the mention of his sister Manimegalai, he knew that he had to visit. Although he had only seen his sister a couple of times and didn't interact with her often the time when she is ready to accept the penalty to save him before the court he knew that this girl is more than anything. Even though he couldn't reciprocate the feeling Manimegalai have for him, he really have her at a high place in his heart. Unfortunately, his heart is only reserved for his Ilaya Pirattiyar, since the time they met he knew that's who is heart wants.

And he knew that Manimegali deserved someone who is not only a warrior but a loveable one who can give the world to that innocent golden flower of Kadambur. But nothing prepared him for the sight he thought he would witness as he reached the room where Manimegali is currently, Kandamaran's eyes held sadness and many emotions.

A weak footstep was heard as he went inside the room, with the pair of tired eyes and sunken cheeks stood the once bubbly and always smiling Mani he knew. Tears fell down from his eyes as he took in the state of the Kadambur flower now standing before him, is this his dream? he wished to be and hoped that Manimegalai is healthy and thriving in her home. But life is not fair and this is the reality. 

With a small smile on her dried and pale lips, Mani limped forward, She couldn't able to contain her excitement, and her heart is filled with joy. Finally, he is here and this time is for real, As her heart started to slow down, she went faster and her legs gave up and started to fall down. But the angel before her caught just before her body hits the ground.

She wanted to say so much but her voice couldn't able to get it out. She smiled a teary smile to which Vandiyadevan cried seeing her in this state. He can see she is struggling to get her words as he combed her hair with his hand and lightly pressed a kiss on her forehead. At that moment Mani know this is it, her last moment and her wish is finally over she nodded at him and he nodded as well without fully knowing what is in her mind. With one last breath, she went into a sleep state from which she will never wake up. With a heart-wrenching sound, Vandiyadevan cried, hugging the once bubbly and cheerful girl he know now laying lifeless in his arm.

Nobody knows that a warrior like him is capable to cry like this and he did, even though he fully doesn't know why but his heart what to cry it out.

Later that night

Kandamaran asked Vandiyadevan to stay as they finished the final rituals of Manimegalai. They offered him a room to stay for the night and travel tomorrow, the least they could do.

With tear-stained cheeks Vandiyadevan laid on the bed, He could still feel the weight of Mani in his arm, Oh what he is gonna do? How he is gonna able to come out of it, sleep took over him and his breathing becomes steady and slow.

Pair of eyes watching over him, one the soul of the beautiful flower who just passed away and another one is the once crown prince 'Aditha Karikalan'.  Both of them loved this man, to one he is the love of their life, to another this is the one who saved his life on many occasions and was a brother to him. Their wandering souls made a stop to visit the person who is very important to them

'Why did you love him' Aditha asked her.

'How can I not! It's him! It's always him!' Her voice held sadness and many emotions.

'Would you change things if you have been given a second chance?' The question made her look at her love who is currently sleeping and dried tear marks are now adorning his cheeks

'No, I won't. Cause I know I love him and for that, I can't make him lose his love. I want him to be loved as I would love him' Her words expressed her innocence and her love towards Vandiyadevan who didn't reciprocate the same feeling.

As she turned and looked at the person who question her and smiled. 'Would you?' Her question made Aditha stop thinking.

'What would I?' asked Aditha, hoping to see what she is implying.

'Would you change things if you had been given a second chance, for your love?' She asked smiling sadly,

With deep breaths, Aditha replied closing his eyes and smiling sadly 'I would'  he answered.

He is imagining his life with his Nandhini if he could able to change the things he did if given a chance.

She smiled and softly caressed Vandiyadevan's hair, all he felt is the air moving his hair.

From that day onwards it is Mani who guarded him and everyone important to him, she is his secret angel who looked after him, as he lived his life with Kundavai and started a family of his own. She played with their child and waited for him to enter the afterlife. She knew that her life purpose is to be with him and by him. After all, he is hers, as much as she is his, even though the world says otherwise.

Aval - is his heart string that connects his life.

@harinishivaa   @thelekhikawrites @nspwriteups @whippersnappersbookworm​ @willkatfanfromasia​ @hollogramhallucination @vibishalakshman​   @celestesinsight​   @arachneofthoughts   @freeunknownwasteland   @yehsahihai  @curiousgalacticsoul​ -> Let me know your thoughts guys.

#tamil #ponniyin selvan #chola #nandhini #karthi #vandiyadevan #trisha kundhavai #poonguzhali #arulmozhi #mani ratnam #manimegalai #one sided love #oneshot #angst #arunmozhi varman #arunmozhi #chiyaan vikram #ps 1 #ps 2 #vaanathi #vanmozhi #vanthiyathevan #wattpad #fanfic #adithakarikalan #aditya karikalan #aishwarya lekshmi #sobita #Aval

[sirenjose]

C-tier skins

While I set up, I figure before I even do any analyses, I’ll do a few tiny posts to get myself comfortable.

Anyone notice how some of the c-tiers in game that are quite sad?

Honestly, essentially all of Luca’s c-tiers are really sad. There’s Moldy Bread, who hints at the sort of food Luca was forced to eat in prison, as well as Yellow Wall, which talks about all he could really do there was stare at the walls. And Gray Coating literally talks about the chance of dying: “If you're lucky, touching it with your bare hands it will make you itch all over. If not, you might die.”

There’s Emily’s Calm Yellow, which speaks for itself: “I've become so numb to death for I have seen so many.”

Emil’s Gray Brown likely talks about his time when he was forced to dog fight: “Gazing at this damp and tiny cage with bound wrists, year after year... What's next?”

Jose’s White Sail (“What colour will the white sail be when it returns from the voyage?”) and Black Mast (”The straight and sturdy mast delivers victorious news.”) are also gloomy if you know the meaning behind it. These should be referencing Theseus, who had promised his father to have white sails raised if he was victorious against the Minotaur, and black sails should he fail or perish. Despite being successful, he forgot his promise and mistakenly used black sails. His father, thinking his son had died, killed himself out of sorrow.

Now Jose’s father would not be one to do such a thing, considering he doesn’t really love his son (he sees him as an object), but this is still applicable to Jose. Because of Jose’s... “mistake”, it did lead to his father’s death. And Jose’s ONCE skin (Departure Date) does confirm that, had Jose just been on that ship, his father would still be around. So, instead of Theseus’s father being sad, it’s more referring to Jose himself, who we know is definitely upset over his mistakebased on 1 of his previous IDVJP twitter responses about his ONCE Skin: 

What good am I now? Don't flatter me... I was confident in my skills...as a navigator... That's why...I was so conceited... That day...if only I hadn't made that mistake... You mean to tell me that I could have led my father in the right direction? That instead of disappearing with the ship...I would have saved them? That's not...it's just...ugh...aaa... (´⊗ ⸍⸌Ⓑ `) I can’t...I can't take it...

#idv #identity v #idv first officer #identity v first officer #jose baden #idv prisoner #identity v prisoner #luca balsa #idv jose #identity v jose #idv luca #identity v luca #identity v luca balsa #identity v jose baden #idv jose baden #sirenjose analyses and theories

[hella1975]

right so dog imagery dabi is so insane and I tried to look up dog poems and all that came up was laika so yeah. ‘I know I will die but that is fine’ ‘she had so little time left to live’ ‘we kissed her nose and wished her bon voyage, knowing that she would not survive the flight’ ‘and they call me laika, but I'd just like to say that I was born little curly and I'll die with that name’ ‘the more time passes, the more I'm sorry about it. we shouldn't have done it... we did not learn enough from this mission to justify the death of the dog’ ‘surely they'll come to get me. surely they didn't love me all that time for this’ ‘I'm a halfway thing, more bullet than dog’ ‘laika to ground control I miss you. if you would come out here and pet me I swear to dog I'll be good, never bark again’ ‘what you’re about to do will live on forever even though you’ll be dead and gone’ ‘I took the collar off I’m holding my own leash and walking myself outside this door. I don’t think I want to be a good dog anymore’ oh I’m feeling SICK he was raised to die they don’t expect him to come home they both quite literally BURNED UP! even a parachute would’ve shown that they cared. but they don’t. don’t sink in me with your dog teeth don’t sink in me with your dog teeth don’t sink in me with your dog teeth

once again me and aiaia remain on a very weird niche radio wave yet our frequencies are perfectly matched like YOU GET IT i went through sooo many title ideas before settling on dog teeth for the touya wip and like yeah it's the god's country ethel cain of it all but also there's a reason dog days is one of my top ethel songs ever like i fr see the word dog in media and lose my shit. dog imagery, specifically teeth, is so so compelling to me and laika is just the beginning. like touya is so laika coded he's a failed experiment he's an uncomfortable tragedy he wasn't worth the progress he accomplished he's out of sight out of mind. but it's more than that. dogs as the ultimate symbol of obedience, of submission, yet existing at once as symbols of aggression. we took this wild animal and made it palatable to the point its predecessors would tear it to shreds. we took this wild animal and filed down the claws and pulled out the canines and told it to sit and be good. sit and be good and be silent. we kill them when they bite. they are a lesser creature begging at the dinner table for attention. you walk a fine line between god and animal, dont sink into me with your dog teeth. i get mean when im nervous like a bad dog. they are animals burdened with our own moral system that we forced on them but they are animals and i think the fascination i have with dog teeth as a theme specifically is that they are the proof of it. a dog can lick your hand and sit when told, it can be good, but inside its mouth are teeth made for tearing. even a good dog bites. even a good dog kills. sometimes they do it in an attempt to be good, placing a bloody carcass at your feet. a dead bird, neck snapped, teeth stained red. they do not understand our human horror. they dont know why we're shouting. you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love. you must learn to be confused but never disappointed by a deficiency of love. You must give up your children and not know why. you must lose yourself wholly in activity; you must never feel an itch that you do not scratch. you must learn how to wait at the foot of the bed and hope, silently, that somebody is drunk enough or lonely enough to invite you up, and you must learn not to show your excitement too much or overplay your hand. if you want to be a dog, you must learn to believe that you are not in fact a dog at all. we forced upon them a language of love and never taught them fluency. they stutter over too-sharp teeth and mispronounce old instincts. we made it so the only thing that mattered was if they were a good dog or not, anything else was irrelevant. do not bite the hand that feeds you. do not question the person that owns you. and the tools that are the very essence of the real animal are pulled out. i will remove all my teeth because i want to remain kind despite my anger. spitting love past bloody gums, never ever getting enough to be sated.

#characters that tried so hard to be good and to fit a mould just to find out there was nothing they could have done to ever be good enough #because it was an inherently impossible standard to reach and they are inherently imperfect with their dog teeth and claws #and the realisation of that shatters them into no more than a vicious animal never to be petted again hiiiiiiii #you would not believe the motifs i can force upon you <3 #ask #touya todoroki

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"It Now Belongs To You" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 7/10: The Dice Game Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: T Word Count: (1.1K/10.6K) Summary: When Emma and Killian receive a pair of magic beans as a wedding gift, they take a voyage on the Jolly Roger for their honeymoon- but a wrench is thrown into their romantic getaway when they run into a notorious pirate who's staked a claim on the Jolly Roger. Chapter Summary: Emma attempts to use her superpower to beat Black Beard at his own game Tags: post-canon, canon compliant, fluff, no smut, suggestive themes, alcohol, gambling, self indulgent fluff with a sprinkling of angst Author's notes: I hope the perspective switches in this chapter aren't too confusing! (also, please note, their game gets cut off between chapters 7 and 8, so don't think it ends quite here!) Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 Emma placed her dice in an empty cup, then shook them onto the table and peeked under the cup. There were two sixes and three fives- and she was careful not to reveal them to anyone else at the table- not even Killian. A perfect scam like the one she was running required a certain level of coordination she hadn't yet worked out with Killian.

 "Lady calls first." Black Beard said.

 "Three fives." Emma started.

 "Four fives."

 "Five fives."

 He studied her carefully.

 "Liar!" he said, and, sure enough, he only had one five- and two ones and a three and a four- which made the total four fives, and Emma the liar.

 She pounded the table and set a die off to the side, but her frustration was far from genuine- if she won every round, Black Beard might suspect her secret weapon, so she'd have to carefully plot out when to fail and when to succeed to avoid suspicion- and giving Black Beard an early winning streak would definitely catch him off guard.

 She rerolled her dice- two fours, a three, and a one.

 "Two fives." Black Beard said.

 He was already bluffing, as Emma could tell, and she had no fives of her own- but she continued the bet.

 "Three fives."

 "Liar!"

 Sure enough, Blackbeard only had one five of his own- along with two threes and two ones.

 The crew watching all cheered as Emma set another die off to the side, unaware that all this was playing right into her hand.

___

Black Beard peeked at the dice under his cup. Two ones and two threes and a two. 

 Normally, he wouldn't've bet something of such high stakes as a ship and bean against a woman- in the end, one woman's really like another. But just like gold had no value until someone else said it did, this wench was only worth it because Hook thought she was. The pain on his face when she'd placed herself as a bet had doubled and tripled with every die she'd lost, and to watch a man who'd bested him on many occasions crumble the way he did now was the warmest vengeance he'd ever reveled in.

 "One five." The girl said.

 "Two fives." Black Beard bluffed, knowing it was doubtful she'd have more than two fives in her three dice- and he didn't have any.

 "Three fives." she replied.

 "Liar again!" He revealed his dice, and looked at her dice to find a six, a four, and a three, and the blonde set a die off to the side.

 "Isn't that fancy?" Black Beard asked Hook. "Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say she's throwing the game on purpose, just itching to get away from you."

 Hook looked at his mug like the ale in it was the only ally he had, more disturbed and tortured than Black Beard had ever known him to be. Hook breathed deeply, then replied with disdain.

 "So it would seem."

___

 Though he would later be ashamed to admit it, the faith Killian had in Emma had wavered in that moment. There was no way Black Beard could beat her at her own game like this, and yet, here she was, losing.

 "Two threes." Black Beard said.

 Killian almost wondered if Emma was doing this on purpose, if- no. His Emma would never.

 "Liar!" Emma said.

 Then again, who would pull a bluff like that on their first move? There was no way Emma wasn't letting Black Beard win this one.

 But as everyone at the table gasped, Killian looked across the table at the revealed dice- Emma with a six and a two, and Black Beard with a six, a two, and three ones.

 "Lucky shot." Black Beard said, casting a die off to the side. "Let's see you do that again."

 They cast their rolls again, Killian watching with a little more excitement.

 "Two sixes." Emma said.

 "Three sixes."

 "Liar!"

 Emma revealed a six and a three, and Black Beard revealed two ones, a six, and a two.

 "Another lucky shot." Black Beard muttered, throwing a die across the table.

 Killian smiled as Black Beard scowled at him over the top of his flagon of ale.

___

 "Two lucky shots don't mean a thing." Black Beard thought as he rolled his next set of dice- a four, a three and a one. His last guesses had been his own pride getting in his way, so maybe this time he'd better shoot safe.

 "One three."

 "Two threes." 

 Was it possible that one of the girl's dice was a three? Yes- however, it was less likely that both were, and his options were to call her bluff or up the anté.

 "Liar!"

 She revealed a three and a six.

 "I don't think so." Emma said, taking one of his dice and setting it aside.

 His chance at success was dwindling into a miserable mess- all thanks to this wench. However, Black Beard knew the game wasn't over 'til someone ran out of dice- and both of them had two dice left.

___

 Emma's plan was working splendidly. Despite losing half the matches, she'd still done what she'd set out to do every time, and had successfully infuriated Black Beard in the process. She didn't have any personal vendetta against him, but based on what she knew he'd done to Ariel, Anna and Elsa, and especially Killian, she was able to take delight in his annoyed glare.

 "One one." Emma said, knowing she didn't have a one, but knowing Black Beard did.

 "Two ones" he smiled.

 Now she was stuck. She knew for a fact there weren't three ones- all she had was a five and a three- but her other option was to call Black Beard out- and though she had a five in six shot at that being right, her superpower made it clear- Black Beard wasn't bluffing.

 "Liar!" She said, faking some breed of confidence.

 He revealed his two ones as she revealed her not-ones.

 "One less die for you, m'dear." Blackbeard said, removing one of her dice and mockingly setting it off to the side. "And look at that!" He pointed at the other. "One die away from a night we'll all remember."

 She had gone into this game with so much confidence, faith in herself and her superpower and that her plan would work. Now she was faced with the very real possibility that Black Beard could win, that sometimes all her resources wouldn't be enough, she could get backed into a corner, and she'd have to- well, she'd rather not think about that. Instead, for a stroke of comfort, she looked to Killian, who bore the face of a defeated man.

#once upon a time #captain swan #fanfic #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time season 6 #post canon #fic rec #kazzy writes

[pandoraimperatrix]

Wandering Worlds

DickKory | Core Four Centric | Cannon Divergence | Longfic

Summary:

Dick Grayson is dead. His life taken by his own brother. The Abel to Jason’s Cain. Consumed by grief, Rachel gives in to despair, losing control, a portal opens, but from it no destroyer of words come through. Instead a man who looks just like him, how can he be?

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

*90's infomencial voice* Tired of Dick Grayson getting no character growth every season? Can't stand the lack of development? The fact that we barely got any DickKory content since season one? I have just what you need! *normal voice* Okay, so in this fic Dick died, and Rachel pulled an alternative version of him from a dying universe, a version of him that will not take his family, Kory and his life for granted, he's not perfect, but he's doing his best.

————————————–

Part Four – Voyagers

But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways. Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder is this the last time? Is that really you? And what if you’re perfectly happy without me? Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. It’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes  until I find the one where you’ll return to me. 25 Lives, by Tongari

Chapter Twenty-one – A free man with nowhere free to go

“What?” his question floated heavy with the weight of the satisfaction their afterglow provided. Heavier than the bliss, only her gaze, at first he thought nothing of if, but, after a while, he noticed it’s heat what was preventing the darkness of sleep to claim him, her insistent stare anchoring him do conscientiousness.

“I was thinking, you know, about what you said once, that we might not be exact copies from… You know,” she undoubtedly felt the change in his body as her words crowded the room filled not so long before only by the two of them. Beside their bed, summoned by her words, the haunting of the past stood, unfinished. “Have you noticed something about me? Something different... from her?”

He fought the urge to grimace by smiling, his face stiff with the effort.

“Why? You were the one who said you couldn’t pick us apart, are you trying to tell me you found something now?”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, he could see she was itching for insisting on her question, but he wondered if, to her too, curiosity and fear ran shoulder to shoulder in regards to their parallel counterparts. Koriand’r moved from her place beside him, climbing on his chest, one arm folded under her chin, her hair moving a little slower than the rest of her body, floating around her in a mess of auburn curls as if it was its own separate entity.

“Actually, I did.”

Read on AO3

 “Oh...” He sighed, “good different or bad different?”

“Just different,” she smiled, and reached out, cupping his face, thumb tracing around his eye, as if she was drawing the mask she had just presented him the night they decided to give happiness a chance. “Your eyes are so light sometimes, like scotch... And the right one is almost blue in places... His eyes were darker.”

Dick shut his eyes, the darkness dissolved his memory, she was gone. And he was back to the present, where his chest was empty and his bed cold.

He sucked on a shaky breath, hating the hot tears burning his eyes and gritting his teeth. He had gone through worse. He had gone through the end of the world goddammit!

Still, instead of fighting, instead of shaking off all that despair, Dick curled into himself. He slept.

Dick was pulled from nonsensical anxiety inducing nightmares by the metallic click of the door opening.

“Gar?” he panted, still being able to taste despair although he couldn’t remember any of the dreams, the memory of Koriand’r flying away into the oblivion burning in front of his mind.

The boy gave him what seemed to be a valiant try to smile, but never he had looked so fragile, not even back when they had that difficult conversation in the woods when Gar had confessed his worst fears. Losing Koriand’r being a threat even then, a threat Dick had dismissed. How stupid, how irresponsible. When would he ever learn?

Happiness was something that didn’t belong to this world, to any world where he could dwell. And every time he tasted it, loss would be right in the corner waiting.

“Hey…” The boy saluted in a barely there voice, his lips trembling.

“You alright?” Dick asked, grimacing at his own choice of words. “Where’s Rachel?“

 “Rach is up,” Gar said, although he had been better, he didn’t look like someone who had seen the end of the world either, in his oversized hoodie and flat hair falling over his forehead. “She’s trying to make an omelette. And I…” He sucked air though his teeth, his shoulders shaking a little. He was very young, his Gar. “Well…”

Dick wanted to ask, he did, but he didn’t think he needed to.

“An omelette?” he asked instead. “So she’s not…” they exchanged a knowing look, a concerned look.

The trip back home last night was not pretty.

“Stop looking at me like that! I’m fine! You don’t have to worry about me or Trigon, I’m nothing like your daughter!”

And then she stormed into her room and locked the door ignoring his pleas to let him in.

He had stood there for a long time, and even longer sitting on the floor in dread. However, after a while, when no sound came from inside, no apocalypse, no sign that the reality was being ripped apart to give away to out-worldly evil, Dick was forced to acknowledge that, he wasn’t so afraid of that Rachel. He was afraid of having to face the constraint of his bedroom alone.

“She,” Gar started in a tone that didn’t hide his endearment and maybe a little pride too, “is worried about you.”

Dick blinked in astonishment, and then fumbled around his bed for his phone.

“What time is it?”

“Around noon,” he sat on Dick’s bed then, and pulled something from his pocket, “looking for this?”

This, was a broken melted mess that had once being Dick’s cell phone.

“Fuck,” Dick breathed, examining the ruined gadget in his hands. Maybe it was because of Gar’s body, but it somehow was still warm. It crossed his mind the notion that a melted cell phone would be the last thing of his, Koriand’r would ever touch and a sob escaped his chest before he could stop himself.

Dick rose terrified eyes to Gar, hand covering his mouth. No. Not in front of the child. But the was no use, the other sobs followed, bringing hot tears and a mix of shame and powerlessness.

It was with horror, love, and infinite gratitude that Dick let his boy wrap his arms around an undeserving, poor substitute for a father.

“What is happening?!” A rushed Rachel appeared at the door, spatula still in hand.

Dick unclenched an arm away from Gar and rose it towards her who lost no time before joining them. Father and daughter exchanged a look, there was no need for spoken apologies, not between them. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, pain and bliss and despair and so much love filling him and she laid her head on his shoulder.

And for tiny moment, it was enough.

“It’s really good, Rach,” he said, munching on a generous piece of over salted egg with scraped burned parts.

Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled the plate from his hands, throwing the food in the trash bin.

“Gar, call the pizza guy,” she said over her shoulder.

“On it.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Rachel asked crossing her arms and leaning against the sink, all business, which made Dick feel ever more confused and guilty. “Have you called Bruce?”

He frowned.

“Bruce? What for?”

Rachel looked at him as if he was being absolutely stupid on purpose.

“What you mean what for? We need to get a spaceship or some other way to get to Kory!”

 Oh…

That would explain why she didn’t let Trigon out. She had hope still.

Dick clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, looking down at his daughter as if she was a bomb he was trying to disable. Maybe she really was. Maybe, he was the one about to go off and blow everything.

“I don’t think she wanted us to follow her,” he managed to say in a voice so strangled he barely recognized as his own.

“Bullshit!”

“Rachel-“ Gar tried to intervene.

“No!” she shouted, shaking from head to toes. “I am not giving up on her, Dick,” she sobbed, “I’m not! I can’t! You, from all people, I thought… I thought you would understand.”

Dick stared at her, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He had, from the fatidic moment she flew into the sky, been wandering in a nebulous place inside his mind. Numb and lost, all alone but for a voice that laughed at him for believing that he, from all the more deserving people lost in the swamp of despair that his home world became, deserved a fresh start, deserved happiness. And now, came Rachel, always her, offering him once more, hope.

What good more hope can do, though, when you already hang yourself?

He looked away from Rachel’s disillusioned face to Gar, the boy too looked like he was shipwrecked and waiting for him to throw a lifeline, lifeline Dick didn’t have, dancing in the air, praying for the agony deliver him to the darkness of the nothingness, end of pain.

“What you think, Gar?” he forced himself to ask in a small voice.

Gar exchanged a look with Rachel, it was like they were having a whole conversation that excluded Dick. It had been a while since he had felt so alone, so detached, so much of a stranger.

“I agree with Rach,” Gar finally said with a fierce look.

Dick breathed in sharply. Seeing the betrayal in Rachel’s face turning into gratitude made him feel worse somehow.

“You heard her,” he argued, in a faux calm voice, “you heard what Koriand’r said,” saying that name aloud ripped his heart, but he continued. “Rachel didn’t, and I understand her reaction now because of it. But you heard her, Gar. She wasn’t kidnapped, nobody forced her to leave, she went willingly,” he spat the last three words, numbness condensing into a storm of rancour.

Rachel bit both of her lips tightly, and cleaned a tear that slid down her cheek in a stiff gesture. 

“I know,” she retorted in a hard voice. “I saw the video. And I know Kory. She didn’t want to go.”

“What someone wants or doesn’t want matters nothing, it’s their actions.”

She gave him an offended huff, her expression becoming more and more angrier.

“Like how you want to get her back but is choosing to act like a douchebag right now?”

“Rachel!” said Gar scandalized.

“No Gar, you know he’s full of bullshit and he knows too,” she took a raggedy breath, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes firmly. “God! I’m tired,” and then she walked past them, leading to her room.

Rachel’s words and betrayed look had punched Dick hard and let him reeling.

Once more, he felt like a failure. Rachel had saved him, given him back everything he had lost, and that’s how he repaid her.

Gar followed after a while, giving Dick a pat on his shoulder before disappearing into the corridor.

Something caught his eye as he stood there nailed to the ground and afraid of stepping back into the end of the world at any second. He picked the object, mostly whole in its sparkly heavy duty phone case, except for a crack on the screen that lit up at his command. Her wallpaper was a picture from the gala, his arms around her waist, her head on his shoulder, her golden soft glow surrounding the both of them. As if they belonged together.

It didn’t matter it last so little, it was enough for his to build a castle of dreams, a whole future with her.

Clearly, it had not been the same to her.

But she still had responsibilities to Gar and Rachel. He couldn’t care a rat’s ass if her weird mess of a planet needed her, fuck them. Gar and Rachel needed her and he would not let her just leave them.

Because been left behind was hard, and that is what he became after losing so much, hard. And Dick would be damned if he would let that happen to his children.

Gritting his teeth and ignoring his stinging eyes, Dick typed her passcode and chose a number.

“Miss Anders! I thought-“

“It’s me. I need a favour.”

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

Sorry for the short chapter after taking a while to update. I have been having a few bad depressive episodes.

What you think about where this story is leading? What are your theories and expectations?

#DickKory #Dick Grayson #Koriand'r #Nightwing #Starfire #Kory Anders #Richard Grayson #Titans LA #DCU Titans #netflix titans #Titans Live Action #HBO Titans #WW #Wandering Worlds #my fic #edit I forgot the poem

[mcbitchtits]

i watched the Last Voyage of the Demeter finally, and it's pretty good. scratches the dracula itch. solid horror. manages to do something interesting whether you know the book or not, which is intriguing narratively/constructionally, though there were a few minor choices i can't tell if were purposeful or just poorly coincidental; but ultimately it doesn't stop it from being a watchable monster movie. they also manage to make a decent (if odd) conversation with the rest of the dracula book despite it being otherwise un-present. also taps into other vampire lore a bit though how you will feel about that depends on your particular preferred flavor of vampire, i think

[amazing-spiderling]

This has been itching at me but how do you think Murderdock would display affection in any capacity?

Oh, anon. Are you ready to join me on a voyage of soul searching and navel gazing? Because that's where you have sent me with this seemingly simple question.

For starters, we are venturing into the territory of personal headcanons and subjective judgements, simply because we don't see this character in a purely romantic or even sentimental exchange. But I assume that's why you asked this question in the first place. I have spent a lot of time (too much, probably) dissecting the few heavily loaded lines of dialogue and context clues, as well as using what we know of Matt's relationships in the garden variety universes.

But I think the main answer to this question lies in examining the significant relationships he does have with other people.

First off, Cindy Moon:

Now you may be saying to yourself, "This looks like a romantic relationship to me, case closed!" but A. I don't think that it is and 2. You asked how Murderdock would show affection, and I don't think that's what we're witnessing here. Though at the time, it's easy enough for the reader to think this is some kind of serious romance, Murdock later tells Gwen that he essentially has an arrangement with Cindy Moon. Since SILK represents the only major rival to the Hand's endeavors in the West, he's found it advantageous to "keep his enemies closer". Even this visit isn't a social call, he's come specifically to ask Cindy for more isotopes to help fuel Gwen's powers.

Everything about this scene, his dramatic entrance, flippant dialogue, overbearing cologne is classic Murderdock. He's showboating, putting on a performance for an audience, in this case, Cindy. His demeanor around her is no different than what the rest of the world sees. I wouldn't go so far as to say he feels nothing for Cindy, but I don't know that I'd call it affection.

So let's move on to someone who gets an inside view...

Otomo:

"Otomo" is literally "companion" in Japanese. Whether this is the man's name or simply his job title, we never learn, but suffice to say he has filled this role for Murdock for long enough that they have a unique rapport. Otomo is allowed to speak candidly around Murdock, even when it's bad or disappointing news. He is someone that Matt trusts on some level, at least enough to let him closer than most other people, and part of that probably has to do with the fact that Otomo very likely already knows a great deal about Matt's past, at least from the point that he joined the Hand. Even if Otomo doesn't understand Matt's motivations, he does understand his motus operandi. Otomo likely doesn't know why Matt has an interest in Spider-Woman, he almost certainly doesn't know about Matt's suicidal thoughts, but he is also content not questioning anything his master does. This puts him somewhere between an employee and a friend, but I wouldn't say Otomo gets to see Matt's true face either, despite their history.

Speaking of history...

DA Nelson:

My personal favorite relationship in this universe (and let's face it, all of them, when it comes to Matt Murdock) is the one between Matt and Foggy, even though it's been twisted into something toxic and yet shockingly recognizable. Just as they were in 616, Matt and Foggy were roommates in law school, and it seems their association has continued in some form since then. Now that Foggy is District Attorney, Matt seems to have no qualms about asking for "mutually beneficial" favors, which clearly seem to come at great expense to Foggy, if only because Foggy actually gives a damn about what other people think.

I chose this panel because of one line that I have spent so much time thinking about: "Just like always... I'm trying to give you what you want, Matt." This tells us that Matt has a long history of putting pressure on Foggy, and Foggy has gone out of his way to deliver whatever it is Matt wants from him. To me, that means that Foggy has proven to be a reliable asset time and time again. That may not speak to a romantic relationship in the present, but I do think it's the sort of thing that could spawn "fond" feelings in the charcoal briquet of Murderdock's heart, although perhaps more akin to what someone feels for a well trained pet.

The interesting thing about this dynamic as we see it in the comic is that, as always, Matt doesn't actually hide his intentions from Foggy. He is very casual in the way he approaches him and speaks plainly about the rules he wants Foggy to bend. Matt shows his fangs to Foggy, but it is Foggy who makes the mistake of thinking he won't bite. Foggy trusts Matt far too much, but because of that Matt knows he's on a short leash, unlikely to wander. Of course, things change once Matt meets...

Gwen Stacy:

Now you might be sitting here and going, what, what WHAt? This is a question about affection and Gwen and Murderock are enemies. Where are you headed with this, you coco crazy pants? But hear me out on this one-

Gwen thinks Murderdock is the villain, her villain, and certainly, we the readers do as well. But Matt? Gwen is his special interest. He's not opposed to what Gwen does or who she is. Unlike Spider-Man and his villains, Gwen didn't wrong Matt in the past or steal his research or destroy his criminal empire. Matt isn't out for revenge, he doesn't want to kill Gwen. All he wants is to prove that they are, on a fundamental level, the same.

In this universe, Matt plays a role not unlike the one Mephisto plays in 616 when it comes to Spider-Man. The "basically the devil" has an obsession with corrupting Spider-Man because we can't have nice things, don't ask me. Similarly, Matt wants to break Gwen, but only by giving her so much power that she has no choice but to be corrupted by it, as he felt he was by his.

How does he plan to accomplish this? By worming his way into her life, devising scenarios that put Gwen in increasingly desperate situations and watching her squirm. He continues to up the stakes, calling in favors, giving his enemies valuable tools to manipulate them into their places on his chess board, all to force Gwen's hand and bring about his downfall. Speaking of hands, what the hell does the Hand even do in New York? I have no idea, and neither do you, because Matt sure as hell isn't minding his business, because he's obsessed with Gwen.

So! What does this mean when it comes to the answer of your question, oh so patient and gracious anon?

First of all, I don't think there's any chance that Murderdock is going to show affection (platonic or romantic) in a "normal" way. No bouquets of roses, no fancy dinners, no calls to hang out, no hugs. Part of this is because openly showing his genuine emotions is just not how Matt works. He is at his core a performer, and he is almost always "on". Those few rare moments that his true self shows through would be considered vulnerabilities to Matt, and it's hard to know how he might get to a point where he is willing to show them to another person. (One he wasn't about to kill, anyway.)

I also think we have to consider that like most Matt Murdocks, Matt-65 has experienced a great deal of loss. His mother, father, even Stick. but as opposed to Matt of 616 or the Netflix series, this loss isn't characterized by abandonment. His mother didn't choose to leave him. Stick didn't consider him an unworthy pupil. They didn't leave, they were taken. That means this is not a Matt who is concerned with the feeling that he wasn't enough to make people stay, he is concerned with the idea that if he does care about someone, outside forces could take them away from him. And if he did come to care for someone, that would need to be prevented.

I think, if Matt did feel affection for someone, it would be a hell of a long time before that person knew it, because whatever he did wouldn't include many of the typical signs. Maybe it involves secretly scrutinizing the people they interact with, or vetting and disposing of professional contacts, all without the person of his attention being any the wiser.

This might evolve into Matt just... being there. As we've seen with all of these examples, Matt is interacting with each of these people because he wants something from them, whether it's service or personal satisfaction. If Matt started hanging around someone with no ulterior motive, then I think that would be very telling. (I am reminded of cats who just show up at random houses and decide their residents are suitable hosts and end up living there.)

I don't think gifts would be material, because he is not shown to be a particularly materialistic person. (His penthouse is basically empty, he wears basic suits until he starts fashioning himself into a caricature of a villain for Gwen.) I think they would be gifts of service that he would absolutely not mention, though he would relish when the other person discovered them (though they likely wouldn't know how they came to be.) Imagine something like someone lamenting that their favorite band was on tour, but the dates in their city weren't going to work out for them, only to find out a week later that the band caught ill and had to reschedule some shows, which now worked out very well for them. How lucky! (How orchestrated, more like.)

I think we might even consider a bit of arrested development in this area, because while Matt is incredibly adept at playing a part and showing exactly the face he wants to to the world, he is woefully inexperienced at expressing genuine emotions. I think it's safe to say he'd make a bit of a mess of things at first before the recipient of his emotions was able to make sense of it all.

#murderdock #matt murdock #earth-65 #earth-65 meta #murderdock meta #spider-gwen #foggy nelson #otomo #cindy moon #thanks for the ask #this got super long but that's how i roll i guess #i hope you guys like long meta posts at 4 am please say yes #long post #hey guys watch how hard i can infodump about this thing i like

[aibloomie]

hello! i saw you were taking requests for matchups and i was wondering if i could send one in, please? i’d like a romantic matchup for genshin impact <3 i’m bi with a preference for guys, and i’d like to be matched w an adult character, since i’m an adult myself ! (i’d rather not be matched w diluc tho, i kinda have beef w him gfhfhdhd bc of 50/50). my hobbies include: writing, reading poetry, playing genshin, sleeping, taking walks around places full of nature (even tho i’m a v indoorsy person and hate insects and humidity). my personality is a mix of fischl and venti. i’m shy but friendly and excitable. i mostly keep to myself but i like to help my friends when they need it ! i can get v anxious sometimes and overthink a lot, and in those moments i get creative outbursts and tend to busy myself w writing. i try to move on and forget, and not get attached to things that happened in the past, even tho it can be hard sometimes. my ideal date would be something quiet and calm, a walk together somewhere full of trees, admiring the scenery and just enjoying each other’s company; tho cuddles and staying home sounds perfect too hehe. my love language is physical touch, i’m v affectionate and love giving hugs and i’m a total cuddlebug ! what i look for in a partner is… someone comforting, affectionate and open-minded, who will not judge me when i’m at my lowest and who i’m not scared to show the parts of me i’m not proud of. but i’d like to be able to be comforting to them too when they need it, and make them feel loved and very happy <3 pet peeves… i guess someone who is too loud and overwhelming and also being tied down, unable to be free and do that which i love. my strengths: kind, comforting, good at giving advice, creative, thrives under pressure. weaknesses: inferiority complex, socially awkward, low social battery, unforgiving (i hold a grudge for life), can overthink too much and get caught up in my anxiety, insecure. my big three in astrology: pisces sun, aquarius moon, leo rising. something else i’d like to add… i love love sweets, plushies, cats and cute things hehe and i think that would be all… i hope this information suffices and that i requested well. please, no pressure w completing this request, okay? take care and please have a v nice day 💞 thank you sm !! remember to stay hydrated and get enough sleep <3

yeah of course !! and please I felt that, having grudges against characters because they ruin your 50/50 is so real. thank you for all the information, and off topic but you seem like a really cool person omg <3 you take care of yourself too !! ignore any typos ahh

before even looking at your blog, it’s clear that your perfect match is kazuha !! so many of your interests align with his, and based on what you’re looking for in a partner and in life I think you two were meant to be with each other <3

♡ the fact that you enjoy reading poetry? kazuha would pour his heart out on writing up sonnets expressing how much his heart aches for you while he’s away on his voyages. no matter how far apart the two of you are, he WILL make sure that you get his heartfelt poetry. when they aren’t about love, he always comes to you for feedback on it. (also if you collect and treasure all the love poems he has gifted to you then… it’s safe to say that his heart will melt) he’d also definitely take an interest in your writing !! when the two of you are together, he’ll be begging to read some of your works before going to bed because it just eases his mind. if you ever need ideas or just need to release all your passion on a certain topic for what you’re writing, then he will always be there to help you out

♡ as someone who travels a lot due to his life situation, kazuha can show you beautiful scenery and always knows where to take you when you’re itching to go out and enjoy nature (and yes, he will not allow even a tiny harmless bug to get near you <3). as beautiful as nature is, kazuha wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of you the entire time because even the prettiest trees dull in comparison to you. 

♡ initially kazuha will refrain from initiating an excessive amount of physical affection with you, just because he wants to make sure you’re comfortable. but after he finds out just how much you adore physical affection? you can bet that his hands will be searching for yours at any chance he can get. his favorite thing is cuddling with you while you play with his hair, it can be anything, like braiding it or simply running your fingers through it. he quite honestly finds you so adorable when you run up to him and give him hugs, or when he needs to go somewhere and you cannot find it in you to let go of him, he’ll give you the sweetest smile and won’t be able to resist you. you know that cute aggression thing that people get with pets? yeah, kazuha gets that with you !! and he relieves it by holding your face and kissing you all over

he also really likes holding you in his arms and drifting off to sleep when the two of you are on beidou's ship <3

♡ kazuha is great at comfortable silence, and will be able to take notice of when you are socially drained. he will not mind of course, and will give you your space and not force any conversation. if the two of you bump into someone, he’ll take up most of the conversation so you don’t have to get involved and end up feeling overwhelmed. and if he notices that you’re feeling down AND are also socially drained then he’ll make you some sweets and wait until you’re ready to talk if you’re comfortable with speaking about your feelings 

♡ kazuha’s cool and collected nature makes a lot of friendly animals drawn to him !! and of course, you do as well due to your kind and nurturing nature. so yes, expect a lot of cuddle sessions with kazuha…and some random cats that happened to make their way over to the two of you and snuggle up against you. 

♡ he has fragments of his past that haunt him and so in those moments he would love nothing more than to rest his head on your lap while you listen to his worries. and of course, he would return the gesture as well whenever you are ready to talk about any of your worries. the way you react to those emotions does not matter to him, and he will support you no matter what. if you start crying, he’ll hurry over and wipe away your tears !! you have a hard time voicing out the words and resort to writing to drown it out? he will patiently wait until you’re ready, even if it takes days, weeks, months, however long you need. 

PLATONIC MATCHUP

♡ albedo is one of the characters who would absolutely understand if you were not in the mood to socialize. hangouts with him are usually within the solitude of his workspace, or out in a crowdless field in mondstadt. albedo himself doesn’t always have a topic he wants to converse on, so it’ll balance out well with your social battery. you can enjoy his company and work on your writing while he busies himself by painting something or looking at his research notes 

♡ he isn't really an overthinker and rather turns to facts and logic when processing literally anything, so I think he could be a lot of help when you're overthinking. when you tell him what's occupying your mind, you can rely on him to try to create solutions or make you feel better by eliminating all the "what ifs"

#(🏵) — matchups #omg you and kazuha that's my new favorite ship #and no I'm not being sarcastic i mean it you would be so cute together 😭 #like you guys are the matching puzzle pieces to one another #you're the peanut butter to his jelly you feel me?? #the syrup ontop of his sweet pancakes #OKAY I'LL STOP THERE I'M SORRY

[victorpy]

Traveling from Singapore to Malaysia Like a Pro: Your Ultimate Guide to an Epic Journey!

Hey there, fellow travelers! If you're itching to explore the wonders of Malaysia from Singapore like a seasoned pro, I've got some awesome insider tips for you. I've been on this journey a few times, and trust me, it's a fantastic adventure packed with incredible sights and unforgettable experiences. So, let's dive right in and get you all set for an epic trip!

Plan Ahead and Book a Sweet Private Car Ride:

First things first, don't leave your travel arrangements to the last minute! Plan ahead and book yourself a super cool private car service like V6 Transport. They've got comfy 7-seat and 10-seat rides that'll make you feel like a VIP on the road. Plus, booking in advance means no stress about getting stuck in long lines or waiting forever for your ride.

Check Those Travel Docs, People!

I know it sounds kinda obvious, but you won't believe how many times folks forget to check their visas and travel documents. Double-check your passport's all good and that you've got any required visas for Malaysia. It'll save you tons of headache at the border, trust me.

Take Your Time Exploring the Best Spots:

Malaysia has so much to offer, from the iconic Petronas Twin Towers to the awe-inspiring Batu Caves. My advice? Avoid the crazy crowds by visiting these hotspots during off-peak hours. That way, you'll have more space to snap Insta-worthy pics and really soak in the beauty of these places.

Get in the Local Vibe and Munch on Street Food:

You can't say you've been to Malaysia without digging into some mouthwatering street food! Head to the hawker centers, and let your taste buds go wild with all the local delicacies. Trust me, it's the best way to experience the true flavors of Malaysia!

Pack Smart, Pack Light:

Listen, I get it – we all wanna bring our entire wardrobe on trips, but that's just not practical. Pack light and opt for comfy and versatile clothes suitable for the tropical weather. Oh, and don't forget to toss in sunscreen, a refillable water bottle, and a power bank to keep your gadgets juiced up.

Stay Connected with a Handy Travel SIM Card:

Staying connected is essential, right? Grab yourself a travel SIM card for both Singapore and Malaysia. That way, you can stay on top of your game with maps, translation apps, and more. Plus, you won't miss out on sending envy-inducing pics to your friends back home!

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[lokiandracoon]

Pairing ; Loki & fem!reader

Summary ; You sinked his boat, and you may sink his heart, but until then he’ll follow your lead through the seven seas

Content Note ; Pirate AU, Pirate!reader, Prince!loki

Loki masterlist || AO3 link || series masterlist || join my taglist

Hi! Thank you so much for all the love in the first chapter 🥹 If any of you guys are interested here’s a Spotify playlist that I made and listen to while writing the story, you could listen to it while reading if you would like <3

Previous chapter ; I. Runaway prince

Next chapter ;

˗ˏˋ A SMOOTH SEA NEVER MADE A SKILFUL SAILOR — CHAPTER II ; SAPPHIRE

Two days of travel since the raiding of the royal ship, and you could finally see Sapphire in the horizon line.

The island rose proudly over the water as you had a hand on the helm. You knew how excited everyone was to be back home, but your brain only itched you to make the stay short. You never liked staying on land for long, even if Sapphire was the exception.

Sapphire was a lone island. Nobody ventured in this waters due to rumours of being infested of pirates, which was true to some extent.

The moderate piece of land was a perfect hideout, it was covered in dense vegetation so to any outsider it seemed like a deserted place. Moreover, the rocks around it made it difficult to disembark if you weren’t an experienced sailor; so everyone naturally evaded it. On top of that, since it didn’t fall into any important trade routes no kingdom bothered acquiring the island; it wasn’t of importance to them, they had many other lavish lands to take care of.

There where many other islands like your own throughout the seas, they where known as the lands of no one, since no kingdom had power over them. Because of that, countless pirates claimed these islands as their own, settling in them.

“Get ready to touch land!” Natasha’s yells at the crew snapped you out of your daze as she walked up the stairs, “Finally back home” she said with a smile which you returned.

“Now you can have your alone time with Steve” the redhead flushed at the mention, you hadn’t stopped teasing her the whole voyage, “Just drop it already” she pleaded, “Never” the devilish smile on your face told her you really wouldn’t drop it.

“How are things going with your prince” she asked leaning on the handrail in front of you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you averted your gaze back to the island far away, “Oh please, whenever you’re in the same room it looks like you’re gonna jump on each other” her smirk morphed into a full grin as she came to stand in front of you.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about” you kept your cool.

Truth is, you didn’t spend much time with Loki since you helped him with his hair. You naturally saw him in the early morning as he rose to help Wanda and you ventured into the kitchen in desperate need of your daily tea. You greeted him, but after that you quickly averted your eyes away from him.

At first you where attracted to him because he was a handsome man. You thought you would get over your little crush— because you definitely weren’t going to act on it— but then it didn’t go away, it just got worse.

“I didn’t even see him at all” you blatantly lied to Natasha, but she only smiled, it was easy for her to identify your lies.

“Yeah” that’s all she said before walking down to bark more orders, swaying her hips in that distinctive and subtle manner she always did.

You did see him, but he didn’t see you.

It was the night before, you were watching the tides rock the boat in a comforting way from the quarterdeck. You loved the sea, but sometimes you weren’t fond of the darkness of its deep-end; however, at night you liked this peculiar darkness as it let the stars and moon reflect on the wavy water.

As you turned your head slightly you saw Loki doing the same from the main deck.

You wanted to go talk to him, but your legs held back at any wish of movement from your brain. You found yourself caught in a daze as you shamelessly stared at the runaway prince.

The moon shone just right on his pale skin, so much so that for a moment you thought he was the lost son of the shining rock in the sky. You noticed he was still wearing the cloth you gave him, slightly styled in a different way.

Although he looked slightly messier than when he arrived, there was no denying that he didn’t really fit here. Yet, strangely he looked like the missing piece of the place, maybe it was the porcelain skin or the green eyes that reflected the heavenly light above, but to you, he looked like he rightfully found his place.

You shook the image away from your head and decided to focus. You had to have all your senses on deck in order to disembark without killing everyone on board.

As everyone took their given positions and got ready for the difficult landing your senses sharpened, your face took in a stoic look of determination and you tightened your hold on the helm.

As your demeanour completely changed to one of a true captain, Loki observed curiously from the deck. He carefully stood aside, trying to stay away from everyone’s way as they paced around.

It’s not that he didn’t think you were a real captain, it’s just that he could feel it in his bones this time. It was the same when you raided his boat and walked around like you owned the vessel, in that moment he truly thought you did own it.

You were the embodiment of confidence, and he had always wanted that.

He always held his head up when he walked around the palace, not once did he cower when someone tried to intimidate him, he protected himself with a calm expression, but he didn’t often fight back.

Loki learned that keeping his cool in every situation will give him the upper hand in the end, so he held strongly to that advice, even if it failed him sometimes.

He hid behind a mask of indifference to everything. Even when Odin proclaimed that he will send him to marry away, he still held his mask and didn’t object.

He never fought back, he assumed the doors he built would take care of it. But his precious shield quickly crumbled upon realising that it was built on a fake confidence. An ephemeral castle of sand that washed away once the big wave finally hit.

He always tried to hide behind his strong demeanour, without realising that he didn’t build that demeanour enough to protect him.

So he just crumbled with his sand castle.

ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ

“Dad!” young voices approached the boat as the crew started unloading the stuff they brought.

Clint opened his arms as his son and daughter came running to embrace him, “Hello you little demons!” you smiled warmly as he twirled them around.

Everyone made their way out of the boat and into the small town they created inside the island, but you stayed behind.

Natasha turned to you before leaving with Steve, “Not coming?” she asked, although she knew the answer.

“I have something to do, I’ll come later to dinner” your reply made her nod as she left.

Now you were alone, or so you thought.

Turning around you were surprised to see Loki sitting on a barrel, you looked at him puzzled and he was quick to talk, “I don’t know where I’m supposed to go” you nodded slowly at his answer.

You pondered between sending him with the rest or keeping him here. But you decanted for the latter, you didn’t want to put more work on your crew as they spent little time with their family, and you needed help anyways.

“Fine, come with me” you gestured him to follow you as you made your way to the captain’s cabin. Loki jumped from the barrel and followed closely behind.

“I need to sort out something before dinner” you walked behind your desk and grabbed a box that was there.

You put it on the desk in front of you, “I wanted to put aside a jewel for someone, but now I can’t find it” Loki nodded as you pushed the box full of precious stones towards him, you turned and grabbed another box to put it too on the desk, “It’s either on the bottom of that box or this one”

“What does it look like?” Loki asked before dipping his hand in the box, not wanting to accidentally push the jewel further down, “It’s a blue and it has many colourful specs inside” you replied, already looking through the box in front of you.

You still had some time before dinner so you looked carefully and calmly for the gem. You also stole glances at Loki from time to time, trying to be discreet, without knowing he was doing the same.

And in a sudden coincidence you both raised your eyes to look at the other, catching each other in the act. Quickly, you lowered your gaze back to the jewels and tried to keep your eyes in check.

“What’s gonna happen after Bone Island?” Loki’s sudden question had you frowning.

“After Bone Island?”

“Yes. After you receive the money for the kidnapping”

You nodded slowly while pondering. You actually didn’t think much of it, after Loki offered to stay and you accepted you no longer thought of giving him back, so when the time comes it would certainly be a problem.

“I thought you said I wouldn’t get anything from the king” you raised your gaze to look at Loki, who shrugged in response.

“That’s what I think, but he’s unpredictable” Loki pulled a gem that looked like you described and raised it for you, you shook your head and he put it down with the pile of discarded stones on the table.

“Well, regardless of his decision, I’m not giving you back” Loki frowned at this answer.

“You don’t want to get rid of me?” he asked and you chuckled lightly, “And have Wanda decapitate me for throwing away her new helper? I think that’s a no” you answered winking at him with a smirk. Loki smiled at that. He also didn’t want to go back, he liked staying in the boat and your crew was nice to him. He felt at home.

Silence reigned in the room again as both of you went back to rummaging through the gemstones. You were about to give up your search when you heard an ‘oh’ from the man in front of you.

“Is it this one?” He raised a jewel in his slender fingers and you smiled, that was what you were looking for.

Before you knew it, your feet took you to stand next to Loki. You carefully lifted the gemstone from his hand and turned to hold it against the last rays of sunlight that came from the window.

“This is it” you whispered while carefully examining the jewel.

Suddenly a pale hand entered your line of vision. Loki had come to stand closely behind you, extending his arm to take the gem back from your light hold while still keeping it in front of you.

“It looks like a coral reef” his velvet voice whispered dangerously close to your ear, you took a short breath in before answering, “It does”

Yet your voice was so low, it was barely audible, but the prince behind you heard it perfectly. He moved his face so you could feel his breath in your neck, and you moved your own head to the side, leaving him more space.

You desperately wanted him to plant his lips on your skin. But instead, you felt Loki’s hand slide the gemstone in your pocket as he moved his face away from your neck.

You sighed softly and slowly turned to look at him. But he didn’t meet your gaze, he looked downwards, away from your eyes.

You tried to move your hand to his face, to make him look at you, but the doors of the cabin suddenly flew open.

“Captain! It’s almost dinner time!” you quickly stepped away from Loki and looked towards the door, it was Lila, Clint’s daughter, who looked at the pair of you with a curious expression.

“What did I say about barging in the captain’s cabin like that?” you asked the girl who only smiled innocently, “Not to do it because it was unacceptable” she replied and you raised an eyebrow but she only looked at you with a pout that had you smiling.

“Come on, let’s go for dinner” you gestured for Lila to move as you followed her, but before leaving you turned to Loki, who stayed behind in the same place.

“Loki?” your soft call snapped him out of his thoughts, he turned to look at you and you pointed towards the outside, “It’s almost dinner time” you gestured for him to follow you and so he did.

“Who’s him?” Lila asked curiously as both you and Loki walked down from the boat, “He’s Loki” you answered and the younger nodded, “Well I’m Lila” she introduced herself and Loki smiled at her as both of them walked behind you.

“Pleasure to meet you, young lady” Loki responded with a smile and Lila giggled, “Why do you talk like that?” the little girl asked and Loki frowned, “Like what?”

“Like a prince” she answered innocently and you chuckled, “Because he used to be” you glanced at Lila over your shoulder with a smile and she gasped, “You are a prince?!”

Her enthusiasm had Loki chuckling, “I’m not anymore” Lila looked confused but you were quick to answer as you neared the bonfire, “He’s a pirate now”

Lila nodded, although still confused, but she was quick to abandon Loki’s side to go and play with her brother.

The fire illuminated the open space in the middle of the small amount of houses. There were wooden benches around the fire for everyone to sit and chat.

You walked with Loki following you until you could sit down next to Natasha. She smiled at you knowingly upon seeing the prince behind you, you just threw her a glare to shut her up which didn’t do much to scare her.

“Where were you two?” her sly smirk made you want to punch her, “Working, unlike someone” you answered pointing with your eyes to where Steve was, that shut her up quickly as she averted her eyes to the fire.

“Anyways, have you checked on her?” Natasha nodded, already knowing who you were referring to, “She’s a little better than before, Laura said she took her for a walk through the beach this morning” her answer made you nod with a melancholic smile.

Loki glanced at you curiously, wanting to know, but the shift in your demeanour had him holding back, figuring it brought you bad memories.

“Welcome back Captain, Natasha” Laura’s voice filled your ears as you turned to look at her, “Thanks, Laura” you smiled at her as she extended cups of rum for the three of you, “You must be Loki, I’m Laura” Loki nodded with a smile as he accepted the cup she gave him, “Yes, I heard Clint talk about you” Laura chuckled at the mention of her husband, “I hope it was only good things you heard”

Loki chuckled with Laura just as Clint was arriving, “Please don’t fall for the new guy” Clint looped an arm around his wife’s waist with a smile, you made a gagging gesture while turning to Natasha, “Please keep those activities in your house” Laura blushed at your words and Clint scoffed, “With your permission Captain, I will” Natasha, Loki and you laughed as the couple retired somewhere else.

“I hate them” you murmured bringing the cup to your mouth, Natasha chuckled as she got up from the bench, “Lighten up a bit Captain” you glared at her but she just winked back at you and left, leaving only you and Loki behind.

“Captain, can I ask a question?” Loki’s question had you turning your attention back at him, “Go on” you encouraged and he looked at the fire in front of you, “How long have you all lived here?” he turned his eyes full of curiosity back at you, and you pondered for a second, “I don’t really remember, it’s been years” you answered truthfully.

You had stumbled upon the island on one of your voyages— deciding it was a good place to hide your treasures, you settled down. With time, as your crew started growing in number you started leaving people behind to make sure the things you left were safe; and before you knew it, you had a little town to take care of.

Loki tilted his head as he processed for a second, “So you weren’t born here?” you chuckled at his question, “No, I actually wasn’t born on land” you turned to look at him with a smile and you saw his eyes widen for a moment, “You were born at sea?” you nodded as answer.

Since the moment you were born, all you knew was the ocean. The infinite water land was all you needed to be happy. Unlike a grand part of your crew, you didn’t mind long journeys through the seas, on the contrary, they thrilled you.

“You love the sea, don’t you?” you grinned, “I do indeed”

You didn’t really need to say it. Loki saw it in your eyes, how they twinkled with excitement when you looked over the waters, how at ease you looked when you had your hands on the helm of the ship. It was your home.

ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ

“Where is Loki going to stay?” Wanda’s voice called your attention as dinner was finished and everyone retired for rest.

You shifted your gaze through the place until you saw Loki talking with Vision next to the slowly diminishing fire, “I didn’t think of that” you answered looking back to the redhead in front of you, “He could stay with me and Vision, we have a spare bed. Unless of course, you were thinking of taking him somewhere else” you were quick to notice the smirk with which she said the last part, but your slight glare was enough to shift her gaze away from you.

“It’s okay, you can take him with you for this couple of nights while we fix him somewhere to stay” Wanda nodded with a smile.

“Then we’re off to bed, good night Captain” she waved walking away to the pair of men, “Good night” you answered softly, although you doubted she heard you.

You watched as the three of them walked over to were Wanda and Vision stayed, and you got up from your seat once they had closed the door.

Walking to the small fire left, you covered it with sand that was on a bucket to make sure it wouldn’t latch onto some plant and burn the place down. Leaving the bucket behind once the fire was out, you made your way to have some rest too.

Your place was a little more far away than the rest making it the furthest away from the water, intentionally.

Slowly opening the door, you intended to tiptoe inside the house. But you didn’t have to, the person you didn’t want to wake was already awake.

You walked to where the older woman was, standing behind her as she watched out of the window. You put your hands on her shoulders and massaged her slightly, “Mother…” she only gave a hum in response to your whispering voice.

You sighed, you didn’t think there would be any progress today either. Reaching in the pocket of your coat you got the gem Loki found, “I brought it for you” she only stared at it when you put it in front of her, “It looks like coral reefs, I thought you would like it” yet, she didn’t even move her hand to touch it.

Your hand that rested on her shoulder slowly slid away from her as you tightened your hold on the gem. Your disappointment was obvious as you left the shiny stone on the windowsill and rapidly made your way to the door.

You couldn’t stand being in the same room as her, your guilt ate you up. You thanked the seas she wasn’t looking at you directly; her empty eyes, devoid of any emotion, made you want to throw up.

And the worst thing: it was all your fault. You couldn’t even blame anyone— it was all your doing, your decisions, your commands— you were the only one to blame.

You climbed into your ship with a somber expression, you needed rest so you walked into the cabin and went straight to the not-so-comfortable bed, discarding of your coat and boots on the way.

Normally sleep would have come to you in no time, but not even the subtle movements of the boat over the tides managed to lull you to sleep. You were tired, but you couldn’t close your eyes for long either.

You pressed your closed eyes with the palms of your hands from the exasperation, you just wanted to sleep, was it such a big of a wish?

The guilt that you wanted to leave behind at the house didn’t want to leave either; instead, it only increased with the memories that flooded your brain—your mother, the boat, the sea, the storm, the high waves, the bodies—, images so vivid that they made you jump from the bed.

The air seemed to leave your lungs without wanting to come back, you opened the window wanting the breeze to cool you down but not one single tree leave moved with the air.

You paced around the cabin, hands holding the sides of your head as you tried to calm your racing mind. For a moment you thought the overwhelming feeling that was suddenly crushing your chest would make your heart stop; until you came to a half in front of your desk, and your eyes caught sight of the discarded gems you and Loki were piling when looking for the one you wanted.

Aching to distract with something, you found yourself carefully putting the shiny stones back in the average sized boxes. The images of the raging sea in your head morphed into calm waters, monstrous waves turning into gentle ones as your thoughts shifted to the raven haired prince.

You picked the last gem to put back but the shiny stone stopped you from putting it with the rest. A rough emerald. You examined it closely, getting lost in the different shades of green that adorned it. It reminded you of Loki, he seemed to like green; when you found him he was wearing green and his eyes are green, so much so that your brain seemed to establish a correlation between the colour and him.

You wandered if he would be soundly sleeping right now. But he surely would be, unlike you.

You moved to sit down on the chair behind your desk, the air coming back to your lungs slowly as you played with the emerald in your right hand.

You inhaled and exhaled deeply as you shuffled to lean your head on the desk before you. You realised you had lost the track of time, as the first rays of sun mildly lighted the cabin.

ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ

Natasha sighed when she realised you were nowhere to be found. You hadn’t slept in your house, and you hadn’t showed up for breakfast. You always had breakfast with her in the morning so this was completely unlike you.

You were probably in the ship, that much she knew. The redhead was about to go look for you when she spotted a certain newly made pirate coming out of Wanda’s house.

She raised an eyebrow in confusion but was quick to call him over. Loki abided as he walked to her, “You’re staying with Wanda and Vision?” Loki nodded in answer to her question, “Good, do you have something to do now?” at her question Loki shook his head in denial, “Great, come with me, let’s go look for y/n”

Loki was about to question her why, but the redhead had already started walking so he just followed her. He thought she would guide him to your house but instead he realised that they were making their way to where the ship was settled.

He frowned in confusion, did you not stay where everyone did? Was it because you’re the captain, so you had to stay in the ship?

Once they reached the boat Natasha made him stay in the deck while she went to check on the cabin, so he stayed standing and wondering.

When the ship had just arrived in the island and everyone was unloading and making their way down, Loki couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t seem to want to go with them. You hesitated in every step you took, like you didn’t know where to go—something that he had come to understand was absolutely ridiculous, because in his eyes you always knew what to do.

So in his curiosity he had declined Wanda’s offer to go and rest in her house, opting to stay behind with you. He had wanted to ask you about the island, and maybe get you to talk to him about yourself.

But instead he found he couldn’t utter a word in your presence, the feeling that if he talked he’ll make you mad or upset crept inside of him, so he chose silence and observing your calm features as you looked through the gems.

“You look like a ghost” Natasha’s remark made Loki snap out of his thoughts just as you and her made your way out of the cabin.

But her comment wasn’t directed at him, “I know I do, that’s why I have a mirror, Tasha” Loki could hear the irritation in your voice. You looked like you hadn’t slept much, the dark circles below your eyes giving you away, “So when are we planning?” the redhead questioned as you put on your coat, “Later tonight” you stopped for a moment when you noticed Loki just standing there.

He didn’t know what to do as you just stared at him, “Good morning” his voice gave away his nervousness as he spoke, you nodded at him and turned to Natasha.

“I’m gonna take—” you gestured with your head to the island, “A walk, Loki is coming with me” You gestured for him to follow you as you made your way down, and although he was confused, he complied.

Loki shot Natasha a last look, looking for answers to your behaviour but she just shrugged with a smirk, so he just quickened his pace until he reached your side.

You walked past the small village and far into the island. Loki noticed it didn’t have much of special, it was a regular island: not so big, didn’t have much exotic flora… it was the perfect hideout, it was beautiful from the outside but it didn’t attract much attention, especially due to the sharp rocks that surrounded it.

“You like the place?“ your voice made him turn his gaze from the plants to your form walking in front of him, “I haven’t had time to explore in depth, but I do like it” you only hummed at his answer.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your palace?” Loki could hear the smile in your question, so he chuckled lightly, “I would much rather stay here” suddenly you came to a halt and turned to look at him with curious eyes, “How so?”

He decided to keep it honest as he looked straight into your eyes, “I’m not really wanted back there” you nodded and slowly walked until you were practically invading his personal space, he looked into your eyes expectantly and their colour suddenly reminded you of the emerald you found yesterday that now rested in the pocket of your coat.

“And are you here?” he was taken aback by your question, yet he didn’t let it show into his face as he answered, “I hope so, and if I’m not, I wish to be someday” you seemed satisfied with the answer as your gaze soften slightly.

You made a move to turn away from Loki, but you found yourself unable to as the prince’s arm sneaked around your waist and pulled you to him. Suddenly you found your face inches away from his, noses almost touching as you gazed at each other’s eyes.

“Trying to seduce the captain? Bold of you” you whispered, making him smile, “I believe the captain doesn’t mind it” and he was right.

You moved your hands to his neck and pulled him by the collar until your lips finally met.

You let your hands rest in his neck as you melted into his embrace, feeling how the tiredness from not having slept enough left your body, instead filling it with a comforting warmth. Comfortable was short to describe how you felt while encased in his arms. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he pulled you even closer than before.

The world around you was no more as your lips danced with his, you didn’t want to let go even if your lungs where begging you to. But the need to breath won over your desire so, hesitantly, you pulled away from him. Once your bond was broken you were met with green eyes that seemed darker with desire, just as yours were.

Loki didn’t know what had taken over him, he didn’t know if he was drunk in the saltiness of the sea or your eyes— but he needed to fulfil his desire of having you close, desire that had been building since you put a knife to his throat and had him wishing for you to do it again, but with your hands instead.

He liked how your lips felt over his, how your hands tangled in his hair and the warmth that emanated from you when he had you close. He liked, wanted, and needed it again.

“So I wasn’t wrong, the captain doesn’t mind it” he whispered and you smiled softly, “No, not at all” Loki was about to lean in and claim another kiss when your hands in his chest stopped him. He looked at you confused, did you not like it? Had he overstepped?— but instead of drawing your knife at him, you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him as you walked, “Come…” was the only whisper he got as an answer while you dragged him further into the lands of Sapphire.

Truth is, you didn’t know how to go on after that occurrence so the best decision that crossed your mind was to drag Loki to the place you had intended to take him in the first place, and he wasn’t opposing either— instead, manoeuvring his hand smoothly to interwind his fingers with yours, which made your heart swell slightly.

You kept walking until you reached a small water stream, not as big so as to be considered a river but enough to provide fresh water to the village. With your hands still bound together, you let the stream guide you towards it’s source, you had always loved it there.

Loki let his eyes wonder once you reached; it was a peaceful place with the heavy rocks assembled in different levels making small waterfalls. He was entranced while looking at the clear water— however, he quickly jumped out of his thoughts when you made a move to cross through the rocks towards the other side.

You turned to look at the prince when you felt his grip on your hand tighten suddenly, “What’s wrong?” you asked softly but he looked behind you to the stream, “We’re crossing to the other side?” you tilted your head at his question— was he scared?, “Yeah, there’s a fruit tree on the other side and I’m hungry” your answer had him switching his eyes from the stream to you, as if begging you not to.

You smirked— he was scared! So you decided to take advantage and toy with him a little. You let go of his hand suddenly, “You can stay here while I go for the fruit” an innocent smile adorned your face as you jumped onto one of the rocks, “No, wait!” you stopped and turned to look at the prince as he stared at you with wide eyes, “You might slip and fall” you laughed at his excuse and jumped another rock forward, “Are you scared?” you raised an eyebrow and Loki scoffed and denied with his head, “Well then come here” you gestured for him to follow you as you continued your jumping between rocks.

Loki looked with wide eyes as you kept going forward— you had completely abandoned him!. So he balled his hands in fists and decided to catch up to you, he didn’t need you to mock him anymore. He clenched his teeth as he carefully eyed the rock you had first jumped on; it wasn’t far away, he could make it, but if he didn’t calculate well he could slip and fall— that would be a disaster.

For once, he put aside calculations and decided to just go for it. He bent his knees and prepared for the jump.

No sooner had you put a foot on the other shore, you heard the sound of something heavy falling into the water. You turned rapidly and yes— Loki had fallen into the water. It wasn’t deep so there wasn’t a need for you to jump to his aid.

You stifled a laugh once you had a clear view of the prince’s face, he didn’t look happy at all, “Is the water fresh, your highness?” Loki rolled his eyes at your remark and tried to get up, only to fall back again. You laughed and made your way back to help him.

You offered your hand for him to stand, but the mischievous glint that you saw flash in his eyes told you you shouldn’t have. But it was too late to back away, Loki had already grabbed your hand in a strong hold, and before you knew it you too were drenched in water.

The sound of Loki’s laughter filled your ears as you turned to look at him with a blank face, “This betrayal shall not go unpunished” Loki’s laughter subsided as he turned his focus to you.

You jumped on him and made sure that every part of his body that previously had escaped the water was now dripping, you didn’t even realise when laughter started bubbling from you, you didn’t remember anytime you had had fun like this.

“I learned my lesson— I yield!” Loki’s demands for mercy mixed with his laughter as you pushed his shoulders to get him underwater made you finally deem your job done, “I hope that taught you something” as your laughs subsided, you became awfully aware of the position you were in: Loki below you, while you supported yourself on both your arms, at each side of his head.

You made a move to get up but the prince’s hands on your hips stopped you. You looked into his eyes while one of his hands travelled from your hip to the side of your face. You didn’t know what to do, you were absolutely frozen, hypnotised by the emeralds of his eyes. One side of your brain begged you to get up and step as far away from him as you could; while the other ached to lean in and taste his lips once again, and never let go of him.

While your thoughts were colliding, Loki’s decision was clear as day in his head. He wanted you, in fact, he needed you. You were the breath of fresh air he needed, the push he had waited for all his life to get him out of his dull prince reality. In his heart he believed you saved him, you were the storm he was wishing to sink his ship when Odin sent him away— except, you brought him up to the surface and opened him a door to a new life.

He was drunk in you, and if you were to ask him he wasn’t going to deny it. Softly, he pulled your face closer to him, and connected your lips one more time.

His kiss deepened as he moved his palm from the side of your face to the back of your neck, and you responded by grinding your hips on him, eliciting a groan from the prince. You smiled into the kiss as he used his arm to draw you to him even more.

Just as you were about to move your lips to his jaw a thought flashed through your head— anyone could come and see what both of you were doing. Loki noticed as you suddenly went stiff in his arms, he tried to look for your gaze without any success.

You coughed awkwardly as you slowly moved from on top of the prince, thanking the seas that he didn’t stop you this time. Only when you came to your knees on his side did you look into his eyes.

Loki chuckled upon seeing the blush in your face, you slightly glared at him, “Are you hungry still?” he asked as he sat up, “Well of course” you answered while rapidly standing up and offering him a hand, Loki grinned as he looked up at you, “Are you just going to sit there?” you raised a brow as you moved your hand away slowly but Loki rapidly reached up for it.

You pulled him up a little too strongly, which combined with his own strength made him collide into you, almost making you fall back. You thought you’d slip and fall again in the water, but Loki’s hand was quick to reach for your waist and stabilise you. You muttered a small thanks and turned to keep walking ahead, the prince following you with no issues this time.

Why was it that you had the urge to run away every time he touched you, even if you wanted him to touch you? You frowned at your own thoughts and picked up your pace, leaving Loki behind once again as you landed on the other shore.

“Why the rush, Captain?” Loki questioned with a smile as he reached your side, “Because I’m hungry and you’re delaying my breakfast” you groaned as you got to walking into the vast amount of trees, Loki following close behind as you finally came to a halt in front of a tree “And in compensation to that, you’re going to climb this tree and get me the fruit” you smiled at him as you leaned on the tree’s trunk.

Loki raised his face to look at the fruit that rested on the top branches, they were really out of reach and he was pretty sure he never climbed a tree that high. He lowered his gaze to look back at you with a pleasing look, but you only sent him a stern one in return, “Captain’s orders” you finished as you patted him in the back and moved to lean on another tree.

Loki’s hands rested on his hips as he exhaled heavily, he looked at you over his shoulder but you just raised an eyebrow expectantly. Just do it, he decided and moved to rest his palms on the trunk; you chuckled behind him, you didn’t think he would actually do it.

“Go on your highness, we don’t have the whole day” your mocking voice finally made him take the first step upwards. Loki breathed heavily as he slowly made his way up, cursing the world for how the hard trunk of the tree felt against his body. Yet again, one more thing he would have never though he’ll end up doing; but here he was, climbing a tree to get fruits for the pirate captain he works for.

You carefully watched how the prince made his way up from the ground, you didn’t want him falling or anything. Once he finally got a hold of the fruit you smiled, at least you’ll get your breakfast now, “Now try to get down without killing your self” you stated loudly, and for a moment regretted it as you saw the prince loose his balance slightly; you made quick steps to get close to the tree, but Loki had already stabilised himself by holding on to a branch.

You sighed in relief as the prince made his way down carefully, “There” he handed you the pair of fruits he took from their branches and you muttered a thank you, “Let’s go” you turned, making way back to the water stream.

ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ

“Your climbing was not bad, but extremely slow” you said before putting another piece of fruit into your mouth, pulling right out of your daggers pointy end. Loki frowned slightly as he turned to look at you, “Was that a test?” he questioned as slowly pieced the reason behind you making him climb a tree, “Kind of, we need to figure out your position inside the crew” Loki nodded as you handed him a piece of fruit by use of your dagger again.

“I thought I would just stay in the kitchen with Wanda” you hummed in response, “Wanda doesn’t only cook for us, she only takes care of that because she’s the only one that won’t burn my ship down while trying to make a meal” Loki chuckled at your response, “So she has another position?” he asked curiously.

“Inventory, she has great memory for that. But she’s also a great fighter” you answered getting up from nest to the prince, now standing a little far in front of him, “I was thinking of putting you on lookout duty in the crow’s nest with Clint, but you suck at climbing so that would be a problem” you stated making him cringe slightly at the mention of his horrible climbing skills.

“How good are you with a sword?” your question caught him off-guard but he only shrugged in response, “How about fighting in general? Rumour says you’re good with knifes” Loki nodded; it was true, he didn’t want to boost but he was pretty skilled with daggers.

“I do prefer them over swords” he answered and you moved to sit back next to him, “So you really are not going to discard me once you get the money?” you moved your gaze aside to look at him but he had his eyes on the water, “I made a deal with you and as long as you’re willing to keep your word, I’ll keep mine” Loki only nodded making you sigh.

You put your palm below his chin and softly turned him to look at you, “You’re part of my crew now, part of my family, and I don’t abandon my family” you spoke sincerely, you didn’t know if he’ll believe you but you only said the truth.

The crew, the town, the ship… they were everything you had, and you were willing to give up your life for them; now Loki was part of all of it too. You didn’t know if it was because you were somehow attracted to him, or because now he was part of your ‘family’, but you were not going to leave him behind.

You moved your hand away from his face and got a hold of his hand instead, pulling him to stand with you, “There’s probably things to do so let’s go” you started walking to make your way to the other shore again when you realised you couldn’t hear the prince’s steps behind you, you turned to look at him, “Well?” you questioned as he just looked at you, suddenly he broke into a radiant smile, “Yes, Captain” was all he said before following you.

Silence reigned between both of you as you made your way back to the small village, but there was not much to be said. Loki wanted to thank you, for everything you were doing for him: for raiding his ship, kidnapping him, letting him stay with you, welcoming him into your family… but something told him you already knew that.

His heart felt at home with you here, and he wanted to experience the happiness that came with it for many days more. He wanted to spend more time with the people of the town, getting to know them, letting them get to know him, he wanted to sail in your ship and embark in the pirate adventures he read about in books, he wanted to smell the saltiness of the sea first thing in the morning… and he wanted to see more of you.

Loki kept his eyes fixed on you as you entered the small village and smiled lightly whenever someone would greet you, kids especially brightening as you made your presence known, and Loki realised, he’ll give up anything to be part of this small piece of world that you created.

You turned to look at him once you came to a halt in front of what seemed to be an armoury with a moderate training ground, “Now this is a test, come” Loki only nodded as you led him inside, you wanted to asses his fighting skills.

“Busy?” you asked the tall blonde man that had his back to you, Steve turned to face you with a smile, “Not at all Captain” “Good, I want you to spar with Loki” you crossed your arms while walking around and having a look at the weapons, Steve glanced at Loki and back at your wandering form to answer, “Sure, with weapons?” you nodded and made your way to the training ground where you where going to wait for the pair of men.

Steve smiled at Loki and handed him one of the swords he had grabbed, “It’s just assessment, just give it your best and don’t worry about it” Steve reassured the prince upon seeing the unsure look on his face. Loki exhaled heavily but made his way out with the blonde nonetheless.

The sound of clanking swords filled the training grounds as you watched both men intently. Steve was quick with his attacks, recovering easily and throwing back at the prince with a lot of strength; surprisingly to you, Loki was holding himself quite well. He wasn’t the best sword fighter, that much you knew, but he was better that what you had inferred before. You didn’t think that he was horrible at it for a fact, you just didn’t think he would be able to put up front against Steve. Yet, the prince held himself surprisingly well; he blocked Steve’s attacks and launched back at him with everything he had, he was putting in a lot of effort and that was obvious to you in the way he clenched his jaw or the way a frown adorned his forehead as he focused on dodging Steve’s sword or the way that his hand has such a strong grip on the sword’s handle that even at your distance you could see how his veins marked his skin.

By the time you had deemed they did enough Loki was exhausted, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees. You waved Steve over to where you were sitting and he turned to give Loki a final look, “Take a rest, you did well” yet the prince couldn’t even see the almost amused look on the blonde’s face as he immediately plummeted to the ground.

Steve let the sword he was holding fall to the ground as he made his way to stand in front of you, “So what do you say?” you asked as you moved your gaze that was previously on the prince to your best swordsman so far, “He’s absolutely fine to me, I think he would manage himself better with other weapons but he’s good” Steve took a moment to look at Loki over his shoulder, the latter still sitting on the ground before looking back at you, “I’m guessing he got training at the palace, given that he’s a prince and all that” you hummed at his opinion, not far from the one you had already formed on your own.

“What would you say if I put him to work with you” you looked at expectantly, waiting for an answer, he sighed and awkwardly rubbed his neck, “I don’t know, with his skill set I don’t think I’ll have to look after him but I think it’s soon to tell…” you nodded and got up, “Well thank you for your service, I guess I’m gonna have to think about it” Steve gave you a nod as you walked towards the fallen prince.

You wanted to find Loki a role that would match him, something that would be comfortable for him to do; but you also wanted your crew to be comfortable around him, most of the roles were covered and you didn’t want to just throw him to do something random. You came to a halt next to his laying form and smirked when he looked up at you, “Comfortable down there, your highness?” he scoffed and rapidly moved to get up to direct himself at you, “What now?” your features softened as you could visibly see his exhaustion, “You can take a rest for the day, you did enough for me” you already made him fall in a river, climb a tree and spar with Steve, it was enough.

Loki nodded before you both walked back into the armoury to leave the weapon and make your way further into the village, “I’ll see you tonight” you spoke once you came to a halt in front of Wanda and Vision’s door, Loki tilted his head with a confused look “Tonight?” you nodded, “For the planning” you reminded him and the words you had with Natasha that morning replayed in his head as he muttered a soft ‘ah’, you furrowed your eyebrows at his expression and he was quick to clarify, “I didn’t think I was allowed to go there” he spoke in a low voice and you smiled lightly, “It’s for all the crew, and you’re part of it so you’re expected to be there” you spoke softly and for a moment you thought you saw a twinkle in his eyes that flashed away rapidly as he broke into a smile, “I’ll be there then” you smiled at his response and gave him a nod before you turned to make your way to the beach shore, awfully aware of Loki’s eyes on your back.

ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ⏝ ི⋮ ྀ

“We need to get more gunpowder” Steve’s voice boomed through the cabin making everyone go quiet and turn to look at you, you sighed and looked directly at the blonde before asking, “How much do we have” you asked sternly, “Not enough if we are to encounter a whole fleet” he stated and you nodded.

“We betted that the royal ship would have enough gunpowder for us to steal but it didn’t” Natasha added and Sam raised from his seat to stand next to Steve, “What if we visit Bucky and take some from him, he would definitely have enough ready and waiting” Steve nodded at the offer but Wanda was quick to retaliate, “Yes but that may not leave us enough time to reach Bone Island on time for the seventh day” Vision hummed at her observation, “We have to take into account the time from here to Moonlight City if we want to go to Bucky, and how much that would affect our original route towards Bone Island”

Loki observed in silence from his seat as everyone engaged in the conversation. All of them were making great points; so much so that when he thought he had a clear idea to present, someone will come up with a new point of view that he also had to take into account. As Tony was explaining that he and Bruce had to make a couple repairs on the ship, Loki turned his gaze to you. You were listening intently to everyone from behind your desk, making a remark when you deemed necessary or stopping a conversation when you thought it got a little bit too heated.

And for a moment he was entranced. Your gaze was filled with your seriousness and your voice was authoritarian every time you said something— all so different from how you were with him during the day, it was almost a different person. No smiles, smirks or jokes— just true leadership framing your face.

“And what do you think?” Loki was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Clint directing his question at him, as he moved his gaze from you and looked around he realised everyone’s eyes on him. Shifting uncomfortably below everyone’s gazes Loki got ready to give voice to his thoughts, but— what should he say? Do a direct route to Bone Island without stops for supplies and risk encountering an enemy larger in number? Make a stop in Moonlight City and risk loosing time?— Loki’s thoughts raced as he pondered what to say, every point he had made in his head suddenly felt to ridiculous to share right now; he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself, especially in front of you.

You. He eyed you slightly and found your gaze was already on him, you were patiently waiting for his answer. Your eyes were expectant but it didn’t seem like you were rushing him to talk, you were calm as you waited for his voice to make itself known and that on its own gave him some confidence. He turned to look at everyone and noticed Wanda and Vision giving him reassuring smiles, the final push he needed to talk, “It might take a little more effort from everyone, but you could make the crossing from here to Moonlight City in a day or less, get the supplies quickly and make way to Bone Island in a day” Loki spoke in low but firm voice, and just when he thought everyone would just brush over his contribution Bruce spoke up, “That might work, if me and Tony are able to finish the reparations before tomorrow’s sunset we could make way for Moonlight City at night, we’ll arrive at nighttime, pick up the supplies and leave” Tony next to him nodded, although skeptically.

Natasha, who was standing next to you, lowered her form so she could speak in your ear and you hummed at whatever she said, “Okay” you finally spoke and everyone turned to you for the final decision, “Tony and Bruce fix anything that you have to fix starting tonight” the pair nodded upon your statement, it wasn’t rare for them to stay awake during the night so it wasn’t a problem, “We sail tomorrow at sunset, we won’t stop on Moonlight City” everyone stiffened at the final sentence but you continued nonetheless, “I know I’m asking you to risk too much but we don’t have much time, what we have right now has to be enough and we shall hope that luck is on our side” you finished sternly.

Everyone was silent for a moment, processing the information. The firsts to stand up where Tony and Bruce, “We’re gonna get to work” Tony stated and you nodded dismissing them from the room. As they left Wanda and Vision stood up, “Captain, we would like to start organising supplies for the voyage” Vision spoke and Wanda nodded in affirmation, “You can go” you dismissed and they were quick to leave the room.

For a moment nobody else stood up, and you guessed the ones left would be the ones to complain about the decision. But Clint stood up and talked, “I would like to go help Tony and Bruce, to make the process quicker” you nodded and he made his way out of the cabin. Sam and Steve sighed and Steve took the initiative to talk, “We’re going to check all the weaponry we have left and get everything ready, but I think we might need more people” you hummed, “Take as much as you deem necessary” you spoke finally and they both nodded before making their way out.

“That went better than I thought” Natasha voiced once it was only you, her and Loki in the room, “Yeah, I thought Steve and Sam would fight back on it” you stated sitting more comfortably on your chair, “I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t go against your orders” Natasha said before letting her eyes fall on Loki.

He was the last one on the room, and he was awfully aware of if. Natasha looked at him expectantly and he suddenly jolted up from his place, making you turn your head to him in surprise, “I— I would like to— uhm—” Loki suddenly felt minuscule as you and Natasha just stared at him, he didn’t know what to say.

To top it off even more, Natasha chuckled at his behaviour before turning to you. Loki thought that was it— Natasha would tell you how pathetic he was, and how he didn’t deserve to be there, and that the whole situation was his fault, and— “I’m off to asses the crew” that was all the redhead said to you before leaving the cabin, giving Loki one last amused look.

The cabin’s door closed behind Natasha and Loki turned to look at you, he swallowed hard and prepared to talk but you spoke first, “It is not your fault” your soft voice caught him off guard, he was confused as you stood up from your chair and made your way to him.

Loki looked at you with a puzzled expression as you stood in front of him, “This—” you gestured around the room, “—is not your fault, it’s mine” you looked at him with an almost apologetic look and Loki felt a sudden urge to pull you to him and reassure you that it wasn’t your fault. It was his; he was the one that wished for for freedom, he was the one that wished to escape Odin and his dull life, he was the one that involuntarily invoked this outcome.

“It’s not” he spoke simply although there was so much more roaming his brain that he wanted to say instead, “But it is” you lowered your head slightly and Loki was quick to lift it up with his hands on both sides of your face, “But it’s not” he whispered getting close to you until your foreheads were touching, “How could it not be” you could feel his breath on yours as your lips were about to touch, “I begged the skies for this, I’m the one to blame” you couldn’t say one more word as his lips were already upon yours.

It was a soft and sweet kiss, one that calmed your nerves and relaxed your muscles. It wasn’t a new feeling to you, both other times he had kissed you felt the same— at peace. Nothing else was there, and nothing else you could feel, only his lips.

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt his mouth retract from yours, “I could get used to this” Loki smiled at your words.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it <3

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