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multi-fxndom446 · 1 year

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Past lives

Zoro X reader

Summary: Zoro seems to save you from falling in multiple lives

Warnings: angst with fluff ending, maybe rushed ending idk

This is not completely accurate. I did this to the best of my ability I am only on episode 135 so I’m not even at the Sunny so plz be kind if I missed details.

Also I thought this was cute hope you all enjoy.

Past couldn’t ever hold me down

Lost love is sweeter when it’s finally found

I’ve got the strangest feeling this isn’t our first time around.

Past lives couldn’t ever come between us

Sometimes the dreamers finally wake up

Don’t wake me I’m not dreaming

The moment you met Zoro it was almost like your whole world fell from right under you and you were left grasping for anything to hold onto, desperate to keep him close to you.

The first meeting almost went exactly as you felt, you were falling and he was the only thing you could see in your sights.

You gasped out a sharp breathe, reaching for something to hold onto. You felt your hands flailing around trying to grasp anything when you felt his arm and you clutched onto it for dear life.

His other arm was quick to wrap itself around your waist pulling you closer to him as you death gripped his other. “You okay?” He finally asked when he made sure you were steady on your feet.

With a few more gasps of breathe you swallowed your fear and nodded slightly, whispering out a quiet thank you and he backed away from you after he made sure your grip was loosened on him.

You looked around the ship, taking in the few other crew members that were present. All of them stood in shock at what they had witnessed. “Who the hell pushed you off that boat?” Another guy piped up, with blonde hair you noticed

Your thoughts were all over the place so much was happening way to fast. “What’s your name?” Another man in a straw hat asked as a red head girl brought a blanket over to you and you seemed to notice now how much you were shaking.

“Y/n.” You said softly glancing back at the man who saved you, your head spun with recognition. “I-I was hiding on the ship, they found me.” You motioned behind you as if to say ‘that’s why they pushed me off’

All you could remember was your heart stopping in fear when you realized the captain found you, then you were facing out towards the water close to another boat when you made eye contact with the man and his face held more concern then you would ever understand.

The next moment you felt hands pushing you and his arms saving you.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy. Captain of this ship.” You nodded slightly, still unsure if they were gonna push you off as well. “This is Nami, Sanji and Ussopp.” Luffy smiled as he introduced his crew.

“I’m Zoro.” The man who saved you said. Your eyes couldn’t seem to leave him. Like something was drawing you to him, it was almost as if you knew this man before.

He seemed just as confused as you, his arms were crossed but his brows were furrowed in concentration trying to remember if he’s ever met you.

“Where are you trying to get to?” Nami piped in and you clutched the blanket tighter around you.

“Anywhere that isn’t this island.” You finally said and Luffy gave you a bright smile as he went over and patted you on the back.

“Well you’re in luck, we just happen to be leaving.” At the same moment the ship started sailing, some of his crew mates slipping away to go make sure everything was good for a long journey. “Though I’m not sure when we will stop next, are you okay with being with us for a while?”

Your eyes found there way back to Zoro who was still standing close by, arms crossed. “Yeah, I’ll help with anything you need.”

You were sat silently next to Zoro on the deck of the Going Merry. The swordsman was laying down, hands behind his head as he snored away.

You looked around at what everyone else was doing. Sanji seemed to be the only one doing anything in the kitchen while the other 3 were huddled around together playing a game of cards.

You lived for these moments with them. The quiet with little bits of laughter and just overall happiness in the air.

When Luffy told you they wouldn’t be stopping for awhile he wasn’t lying. Days had turned into weeks and weeks turned into a few months. But food was running low. You knew they would be stopping at an island shortly, the very same one you would be leaving them.

“You don’t have to leave you know?” You jumped when Zoros voice broke through the silence. “Your thinking to loud I couldn’t sleep.”

You smiled at that. He’d never admit he had woken up awhile ago you were to deep in thought to notice him watching you. “That’s what we agreed on.” You said softly and he sat up, shifting his weapons to move them in front of him.

“That was months ago you can’t actually think we were just gonna let you go?” He unsheathed one and started cleaning them carefully, one by one. “You’re part of the crew.”

“I can’t stay.” You sigh, watching him work. “I don’t think I realized how long Luffy meant when he said it.”

Zoro watched you from the corner of his eye, “why?” You looked up at him in confusion. “Tell me why you have to leave. What’s out there that you think you need to protect us from?”

“I-“ you paused, “just stuff from the past I can’t shake. I don’t want to Involve any of you, I never meant to get close to any of you.”

He scoffed. “You didn’t involve us. I involved myself when I saved your ass from dying, now you owe me.” He sheathed his first sword and pulled out the next. “I saved you. So In return you stay here, with us. With me.”

You watched him silently, eyes widened. He really wanted you to stay. You understood how he was feeling, you both never seemed to want to be to far from the other. But still..

Almost as if sensing your hesitation he stopped cleaning and grabbed your hand. “I promise you I can take care of myself. We all can. So stop worrying for us and promise me you’ll stay.”

You felt your hand tingle where he held onto you, “okay. Okay I promise.” He smiled a smile you would never get tired of seeing and pulled away from you to continue cleaning his swords.

Past lives couldn’t ever hold me down

Lost love is sweeter when it’s finally found

I’ve got the strangest feelin, this isn’t our first time around.

Past lives could never come between us

Sometimes the dreamers finally wake up

Don’t wake me I’m not dreaming

The Sunny rocked gently on the waves. The sun was just starting to rise and you knew everyone else was probably starting to get up.

You knew you should probably get up and start helping around the ship but how could you when Zoro was sleeping so peacefully next to you?

He was facing you, his arm loosely thrown over your waist. You were laid on your side as your eyes scanned over almost every feature he had. Your fingers traced gently across his jawline and over his scar on his eye before they traced along his earrings, admiring the way they just laid gently on his neck.

“What’re you doing?” He grumbled, his arm pulling you tighter against him. Your hand fell just behind his head where you started to play with the ends of his hair. You could feel his goosebumps start running down his arms. “Your being to noisy.”

You laughed, “I haven’t even said anything.” You smiled as he finally opened his eye to look at you. “Goodmorning.”

“It’s to early.” He sighed in annoyance before he tried to turn over and go back to sleep but he couldn’t seem to look away from you, not when you were looking at him with so much love. “What are you even doing?” He asked again

“Just admiring.” You whispered softly. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to play with his hair and he watched you closely. “Hey.”

He hummed

“Do you believe in past lives?” He raised an eyebrow at you and let out a questioning ‘huh?’ You pulled your hand away from his hair with a sigh. “Sorry it’s stupid.”

You went to pull away from him but his arm held you in place. “No keep going I want to hear what you want to say.” You smiled as his determination.

“It’s just when I first met you, there was something about you that felt..familiar.” Your eyebrows scrunched in concentration as you tried to find the right words. “Something about you I just knew immediately I was meant to be with you.”

Zoro stayed silence while he studied you. He could see the look in yours eyes and he knew that look. This was something that must’ve been on your mind for awhile. “I dunno about past lives but I do know we were meant to be together.” He finally said.

“If you did believe in past lives..do you think we were together in those lives?” Your question seemed to take him back. He stared at you for a moment before nodding slightly.

“I’m sure we were. But it doesn’t matter,” he leaned forward to kiss your head before he rolled out of bed. “This is our present and it’s better then any past lives we may have lived together.”

You stared at his back in awe, “come on we better go before Luffy eats all the food.” You slowly smiled at the man before humming in agreement and following after him.

“Alright, everyone meet back here before sundown!” Sanji called out to everyone before they started departing from the Sunny to go into town.

This was the first town you had stopped at in weeks and you were hoping they had some supplies you’ve been looking for, for awhile. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Zoro asked you for the third time.

Zoro watched you leave with a frown, he knew you could handle yourself but still, he couldn’t help but worry.

You split off from the rest the moment you entered town. Nami stayed with you for a few moments before she could hear the sounds of Luffy causing trouble and she split off.

You really didn’t mind, you only wanted to go to one shop. You had been looking for this piece to upgrade your weapon for weeks but no one ever seemed to have it.

Right when you were about to turn a corner a body collided with yours making you take a few steps back to balance yourself. “I’m so sor-“ your sentence cut short when your eyes landed on who was in front of you.

“Hm?” The man turned to you, staring you down. “You look familiar.” He had said and you took a step back, laughing awkwardly.

“I get that a lot. Im sorry for running into you!” You went to turn away before you felt him grab onto your wrist tightly.

“I do know you.” He smirked his eyes shinning in excitement. “The captain has been looking for you, I’m sure I’ll get a big reward for turning you over to him.”

He started pulling you with him as he weaved his way around the town. You struggled, pulling, scratching but he didn’t even seem to notice. “Let me go!” You yelled and he just yanked you harder. When you saw the Captain your eyes widened in fear and you became desperate but the grip wouldn’t loosen up.

“Captain!” The man called and your heart fell to the floor when he turned to the voice and your eyes connected.

Zoro sat on the deck of the sunny, taking deep breaths as he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration as if trying to force himself to meditate. It should’ve been easy to do with the waves rocking the ship lightly but with a sigh he finally opened his eye, giving up.

He’d never tell you this but he was no longer able to train peacefully unless you were somewhere he knew you were safe, usually by his side where he could protect you in a moments notice.

He hasn’t been able to be a peace for awhile now not since the day he was separated from his entire crew for too long, now he’s too scared the same will happen and he can’t let it especially when he just got everyone back, when he just got you back.

“Ah might as well go into town.” He sighed out, jumping from the ship but as he was about to start the walk to town his crew started appearing one by one in the distance.

They all started getting closer when he noticed you weren’t with any of them. “Where’s y/n?” He asked his hand already on his swords.

“I’m sure she’s just running behind she should be back in a few minutes.” Nami said while she pointed where Luffy and Ussopp could put down her bags.

So he waited. Everyone was on the ship putting everything away and still there was no sign of you. “She said she would be back before sundown.” Zoro mumbled when the sun finally disappeared out of sit.

“Still no Y/n?” Chopper called, eyebrows furrowed in worry when Zoro shook his head. “Should we look for her-?”

Right as chopper asked a loud explosion went off in the distance near the other side of the town and Zoro wasted no time taking off, letting Chopper call for everyone.

He needed to get to you.

Don’t wake me I’m not dreaming.

Zoro felt like his world was burning down, which it almost was. Everything around him was engulfed in flames practically cutting his crew off of any chance to escape.

Though he wouldn’t be leaving until he had you back in his arms.

He was breathing heavily, sword held firmly between his teeth and the other two gripped in his hands. He was exhausted, this guy was stronger then he looked.

Nami was on her knees behind him, clutching her arm while Sanji was stood protectively in front of her and chopper was next to her tending her wounds.

Luffy was stood next to him with a death glare aimed at the man who had you by the throat. You were scratching at his arm to the point he was bleeding but he didn’t seem to care he only laughed in your face.

“Let her go!” Luffy shouted while Usopp loaded his weapon and Robin got ready. “She didn’t do anything!”

“Didn’t do anything?” The man barked out a harsh laugh, “she sunk a ship filled with men and all of our treasure. She has to pay those berries back with her life, which she’s now worth.”

“She told me that story once.” Nami spoke up, “she sunk your ship after you burned down her village.” She seethed.

“I-I didn’t-“ you choked, Zoros clutch tightening. “I didn’t kill any of your men.” You finally said gulping in breathes when he loosened his hold enough for you to speak.

He nodded, “I killed them.” Luffys eyes widened even more in pure fury. “After you sunk our ship with the treasure you snuck on board the main ship to kill me. My men were foolish and they let you get away so I killed them. So really, it was your fault.”

He tightened his hold on you again and pulled out his sword. “You caused there deaths.” He seethed and everything after seemed like slow motion.

In the next moments the man pulled his sword back and Zoro watched your eyes widen in horror, while Usopp shot an exploding bullet. The explosion went off in the man’s face and his hold loosened as he dropped you to the ground and stumbled back in shock.

Zoro was running after that. Everything hurt but he didn’t care, Luffy and everyone else could take care of this guy but he needed to get to you.

When he got to you he was staring down at you in disbelief. You were on your side with blood pooling under you, the bloody sword still clutched in the mans hand. He fell to his knees and layed a shaky hand on your arm, pulling you to roll over. The moment he did he let out and anguished yell. “Chopper!” He yelled as he gathered you in his arms, rocking you back and forth. “Chopper!!”

Past lives couldn’t ever hold me down

Lost love is sweeter when it’s finally found

I’ve got the strangest feeling

This isn’t our first time around

Past lives couldnt ever come between us

Sometimes the dreamers finally wake up

Don’t wake me I’m not dreaming

Everything felt cold. Cold and dark. You could faintly hear Zoro yelling before everything went completely still. You thought you might be dead but then you saw a faint light ahead of you.

Everything in your body told you not to go towards it, but your feet carried you anyway. When you got to the light a sort of softness engulfed you.

You looked around to see you were in a small house, a very old one. One that didn’t even seem to be from your time. In front of you was a man with his back turned. Something about him seemed so familiar.

Before you could understand who it was your feet were carrying you towards him. When you were right behind him your arms wrapped themselves around his waist. You felt a sense of deja vu.

When you pulled away from him you went to take a step but tripped over whatever tools he had layed out beside him. The man turned quick and grabbed onto you. He mouthed something but you couldn’t hear anything. Even if you wanted to you were to distracted by the familiar face that stared back at you. It was Zoro.

He mouthed something again something that looked like your name. “Y/n!” Finally you could hear him but it wasn’t from the one in front of you. Suddenly you were thrown in darkness again and you could hear your Zoro yelling out to you but your body was already pulling you another direction.

This time it was bright outside in what seemed to be summer time. Everything this time was bleary like it hasn’t actually happened yet. That’s when you see the familiar green hair in the distance, you want to go to him but everything suddenly became so cold again and your body finally succumbed to the darkness.

“Y/n!” Zoro yelled watching hopefully as your eyes flutter open. You’re pale, all life drained from your body as you gaze up at him.

You could see the tears in his eyes when he looked down at you but all you could bring yourself to do was smile softly at him. “We’ll be okay.” You whispered and he narrowed his eyes. “I’ll see you again.”

“What?” He held onto you tighter when your eyes started closing again, chopper sitting next to you helpless. “Hey, don’t close your eyes! Y/n!”

But it was to late. Your eyes closed and your hand fell limp at your side.

Dont wake me I’m not dreaming

There was no sound other then the waves crashing onto the shore. Everything was dull. Luffy and the rest of the crew made a raft while Zoro held onto your body as long as they allowed before Sanji came to take you away from him.

They stood next to the Sunny and watched Zoro. He stood next to the raft and looked out at the never ending sea.

He took a deep breathe and kneeled down next to the raft, his hand coming up to soothe over your hair while he traced every feature you had as if to commit you to every memory he could ever possibly have.

“You were right.” He whispered, “you were the love of my life in every life.” His eye clouded with tears so he layed his head down on his arm to try and stop it.

“If we found each other in all of those lives, I’ll find you in the next one. I swear to you on my life.” He muttered, lifting his head slightly to lean forward and press one final kiss to the side of your head. “I love you.”

Finally, he stood up and nodded at his crew. They all came forward and helped push the raft into the ocean while Zoro lit it one fire and they all watched you leave the world with tears in there eyes.

(In another life)

Zoro was walking next to Luffy as they looked at all the shops. The summer breeze was warm which felt nice to bask in for once.

Luffy was running up to every window in excitement when you came out of one. You both didn’t notice each other at first until you looked towards the green hair, which distracted you.

When you walked past him you tripped. He was quick to turn to you as he grabbed onto you and your grasped his arm tightly. His other arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him to secure you. The entire thing felt oddly familiar.

“Are-“ he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest when your eyes connected finally and the puzzle pieces clicked in place. He was staring at you with as much intensity as you. “Y/n?” He almost whispered out, scared you were fake.

You took a moment to understand and then smiled, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. “Zoro,” you had tears in your eyes. “You found me.”

He pulled you closer and leaned his forehead against yours. Tears were falling from his eyes but he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Dummy. I promised you I would.”

You choked out a laugh and brought him closer, kissing him with as much love of you could possibly muster.

Luffy was long gone somewhere and at this point, long forgotten.

Hope you enjoyed <3

#zoro x reader #zoro one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine

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supanuts · 3 months

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One last thing and then I'll never darken your doorway/ask box again, but I just need to get all this pent-up Way-related madness out of my system so I can put it all behind me and move on!

Inspired by your tags on the post compiling the mind control moments, I thought how this is a great example of confirmation bias and it's really fascinating how differently we interpret things depending on our predisposition to view someone/something a certain way: those ppl who view Way primarily as a manipulative, creepy, irredeemable antagonist (each to their own!) see him using his power on Babe in ep 9 when they're hugging as the sick cherry on top of a moulding cake - it's Babe's most vulnerable moment and Way can't help himself, he's at it yet again, the utter bastard.

Whereas in that same moment what I see - someone who views him primarily as a deeply fucked up, morally confused, painfully tragic disaster - is a man watching the person he loves most in the world (regardless of how we judge his feelings, that's certainly what Way believes) completely break down, sob in his arms, and feel utterly helpless in the face of that pain - unable to comfort him, to make it better, to make Babe stop hurting. He looks positively panicked. And that's partly because of his own lies and secrets and the general complications of their situation, but it's also because he's a trainwreck himself - he doesn't have the psychological toolkit necessary to provide Babe with the solace he needs. So he falls back on the only thing Tony's conditioned him to think he's good for - he feels powerless so he uses his power. It's all he has. It's all he can do. It's such a childlike reaction, it breaks my heart - often when a child encounters someone in distress, that's their exact reaction: stop crying! Don't be sad! They're bewildered, they're hurting now too, and they don't know what to do, they just know they don't like it, so they simply order you to feel better. It's coming from the same sort of place, it's just that Way happens to have the ability to make that order a reality! And maybe I'm grasping at straws, but I think it's important that all he actually uses his power to say is, effectively, 'dont cry, you'll always have me', which, as you pointed out, is a perfectly normal sentiment to express to an upset friend! And even then you can see his hesitancy in doing it. If he really was a terrible horrible no-good very bad boy, this would be the moment to take advantage of Babe, physically or emotionally. But he doesn't. Okay, so the bar is super low, but I don't care - I'm still claiming it as a win for Way's potential redemption!

and because it took me so long to reply to the others i actually got a third ask ijbol

ANON DON’T LEAVE ME, my ask box is open for whenever you need to get all your pent-up way-related or pit babe in general madness out of your system, so feel free.

disclaimer i should have made earlier maybe: i didn’t know nut before pit babe, so i wasn’t influenced by him playing way in any way. don’t let my username fool you; i am a hot wheel omegaverse fan first and foremost and a nut supanut fan second.

i have to say i felt so proud as more eps came out and they kept making more and more obvious what was happening with way… because i clocked it in that first scene at the pool table, on second watch iirc. it took so much effort not to point it out to my friend when i watched the ep with her later that i had to shut up so i wouldn’t say anything lol i love when they do things like that hhh

i’m pretty sure that’s the moment i started paying more attention to way too, because he uses his powers on babe

to tell him something completely normal that anyone would just tell to their friends directly. and, to me, there’s only two ways to read his motives there: either he thinks he needs to use his powers to get through babe’s thick skull because he would not believe it otherwise, or he doesn’t believe in himself enough to think babe, his best friend, would actually listen to him and believe him. (arguably you could say he wants to make sure babe goes to him and no one else, which i don’t think is the case, but i will say it here just to be perfectly clear.) whichever his reasoning actually was it made my sad man alarm go off full blast. i didn’t have an opinion on him yet at that point, only found his reactions to the charlie situation funny, so that was my honest reaction without having any kind of preconceived notion or expectation from the character.

and then, as the story kept progressing, he kept using his powers for similar reasons.

yes he still mind-controlled babe in fucked up ways into believing he wasn’t worthy of love, but now, because he doesn’t already believe that anymore, the idea wouldn’t take. it would hurt babe’s feelings hearing his best friend say that, but it was honestly something he had believed at some point, and again way was trying to protect babe in the most misguided way possible.

and then of course there’s the scene in ep 7 after babe learns about charlie being another of tony’s children and i don’t know if you’ve watched it again after way’s reveal, but you can see his thoughts and feelings so clearly in his face. he’s feeling helpless in so many ways and he wants his friend to stop hurting so he knows the only think he knows that works and it’s so fucked up, because it doesn’t really do anything. he only gets babe to stop crying, which doesn’t make him stop hurting, only makes way stop seeing it, and i don’t think he puts that much thought into it, as you said it’s very clearly a childlike reaction, but it is so telling of way as a character and of his state of mind. not least of all because we’ve seen him comfort babe a lot more with things that are nothing compared to this, but here he doesn’t know what to say or do. so yeah, no notes.

you and me anon, you and me. i do think we’re getting a redemption arc, specially with pete’s whole thing toward way, but i’m cautiously not counting my eggs just yet.

breaks my heart when people don’t stop to wonder why someone that from what we know has the sole mission of bringing babe back home to tony couldn’t have used his powers to either do just that back then or mind-controlling babe into thinking he was in love with him, and instead has spent the last 10 years next to him every day as his best friend. love by itself is neither good or bad, it simply is.

#pit babe #pit babe the series #asks #anon #way anon #long post

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piduai · 1 year

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Also your ship hate is so real. Keep your hater-head up queen. It's crazy how popular some of them are too (esp sugio n koitsuki) given the fact that it takes away from what made these characters interesting and unique in the first place entirely. Sugio is just your typical 700k-boyXboy-enemies-to-lovers but to make it work you have to completely obliterate both of these characters personalities/what they stand for (motive/writing wise) especially Ogata like c'mon now... His ass is NOT getting redeemed through the power of yaoiful sex. Poor Sugimoto, Shiraishi was right there too. At least this one had the 'EyeSuck' scene, but koitsuki? How would that even work without Tsurumi? Get real. I know the need arose from the fans wanting to give Tsukishima a ''happy end'' but honestly I would rather take years of dilf manupilation if it means I don't get to babysit a dumbass rich kid for the rest of my millitary life. Not that I hate Koito, I like him as a character but he definiatly had 'барчо́нок' mannerisms, like he deadass said Tsukishima was filthy and broke for not owning a handmirror... Sorry you're probably sick of reading about this way more than I am since you've been into GK much longer but I just had to say I'm with you on the GK pairs feeling fujoshibait/homophobic in nature and it's wild considering the content of the actual manga. You have people cvmming from getting their finger ate and yet... Then again I know this has more to do with the general anime/manga consumer mindset rather than GK itself so it is to be expected, I just care about this manga so goddamn much girl Satoru Noda messed up my brain in the best way fr. Sorry I got carried away but if you read it this far thank you again for your translations and I wish you the best!!

but i don't think any of them are fujoshibait/homophobic tho... the way noda wrote them (character dynamics) i mean, not the fujobait anime posters no self-respecting person cares about. like imo there's no need to grasp for straws and paint something you think is stupid and tasteless as problematic/bigoted/morally corrupt 🤷 just say you find it ugly and dumb and move on. none of the popular or unpopular fanon ships were written as romantic/sexual in canon anyway no matter what the coomers say, all that "tension" people keep yapping about is just complex human relationships or titillation/double entendre/play on classic tropes noda is super duper fond of but it all gets over girlies' heads because they lost the ability to see past fanfiction. sad! well nobody has time for this

otherwise i agree, all gk ships are stupid and have no substance but sugio/koitsuki are the dumbest because they're inescapable. with sugio it will NOT work out in any scenario (ever) unless one of them is wildly ooc and let's be honest sugimoto would never say or do that. there's a reason 98% of sugio shippers are ogatagirls, they compromise sugimoto's entire character to get that 700k boy x boy enemies to lovers hot and steamy yaoi because ogata as he is could never coexist with sugimoto as he is. so it just ends up being reductive and shallow and stripping both of them of what makes them interesting

with koitsuki i just don't understand it but it's mostly because i find tsukishima super boring so anything regarding him is a huge blind spot for me (since i simply do not look in his direction). i think koitsuki is one of the "safest" and most bland dynamics in gk (exact reason for which it's the most popular ship) but in fanon again both characters are stripped of their complexity and their canon relationship is severely modified to make it more yaoiful

which honestly i have no problem with... like if that's how people want to enjoy this series, sure. who cares, none of it is real.

i think there's like things to be said about how shipping culture and the popularization of fanfiction has gradually taken the shape of bile that poisons most attempts at interacting with other fans since all they know is sucking and fucking but honestly i'm a huge advocate for not engaging in unpleasant situations when you can. sure there's a lion share of people who can't see past the yaoi thus compromising everything else you and i love this series for but like... so what? i avoid those people, i don't befriend them, i don't read what they say. and i don't have a say in how strangers choose to engage with fiction... at the end of the day it all comes down to personal taste and what you seek from said fiction, if they're comfortable in this insufferable climate i'm happy for them and wish them the best. as for me i'll just stick to my peaceful yaoi-sparse corner

#anon

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bloodiedsails · 16 days

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‘Old Friend’ - Part 3

“So you are here then, in the Manor and you are courting the Lady Ravenwood and.. you are going to let your mind go? Does she know?” Eike did not mean to be so forward but he wanted to make sure that his best friend was honest. “She does know, Eike. I think you underestimate my ability to be able to communicate with her.” Aloïs rolls his eyes, staring off to look at the fireplace. “And what does this future look like? What do you want from here?” He looks down at his friend between long drinks of the wine bestowed upon them.

The bustling of the servants around them all faded to black. “I do not now what the future looks like. I only know that we just started again. So please, do not ask me these questions. I want our lives to be better.. to let me be happy and not feel like someone is going to program my mind to do something else. Let me feel what you feel and what everyone else feels. Let me be the person I only wrote about to be. Those lyrics are tales of my innocence and myself. I never got to live a life that I had free will to do.”

“So your home is here with her? And you will hide from the world here?” Eike clears his throat. “Do you have anything else to talk to me about, Eike? Besides my triumphant return to the house of the Lady Ravenwood and my renowned personal changes. How about the band? How about what you and the rest of them have done since my exit?” Eike shakes his head, “I am not in the band anymore. When you left, I left shortly afterwards and my brother did too. It was not the same without you. Our vision was murky and we were grasping at straws.”

Aloïs had to laugh with a grin; he knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time before the foundation would give way. “I am sorry for bringing up the same topics but I want you to be happy. You lost yourself and it came with a cost that was detrimental to yourself. I don’t want to see that happen again,” Eike explained. He sits on the couch with Aloïs and takes a drink of wine. “Who wouldn’t want to live here? This place is spectacular. You are living well off here.”

#;; free writing #v; modern au

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kaitlynnlauryenn · 6 months

Text

My heart is sinking right now. I am so angry and so triggered.

I can feel the electrifying heat in my bones.

I can't focus on anything because I am not sure how to calm down.

I am just seething in pain.

I relate all these feelings back to my relationship.

Hearing the same conversation that my bf & I have between my bf & his dad has absolutely sent me down a spiral.

It's emotionally volatile. He doesn't feel heard because things with his family don't change.

He tells me I don't change.

I am emotionally wrecked 80% of the time & being told that I am emotionally immature feels sooo degrading. Being told that I need to do something different & the impact of my behaviors are negatively impacting my relationship fucking hurts.

Going through HUGELY emotionally intense conversations & then to try & wrap it up w/ love & connection feels wrong when every other conversation is just as intense.

All these feelings that are coming up because I am re-experiencing pain from my childhood.

I then ask myself is it from childhood? Or am I just not able to handle that much emotional distress all the time?

Am I grasping at straws to put my bf at fault for things unrelated to him?

He wasn't a narcissist, but I am so emotional fucked that I can't stop telling myself that it's ok because I don't see any other options.

I always come back to this. I feel I can't withstand the weight of the relationship I keep opting into because I feel more & more drained.

Or is it because I am mentally ill & have cycles of doubt floating in my head.

This anger feels out of control. I say yes & I mean no. I can't feel anything but pain all over & I can't concentrate because something doesn't "add up"

It makes me reel in anger!!! Did I blow up my life for someone who drains me constantly?

We both feel emotionally drained but I can't calm down enough to be able to work without causing the most ungodly stomach ache?

It's inevitable to trigger one another, but his triggered state is mean, petty, & vindictive?

Am I just hurting myself?

I'm defensive & withholding because my honesty is misguided by anxiety. I always agree that I am in the wrong because I wait until I am at my wits end to communicate that his behavior is hurtful. Yet, I am causing his reaction by being defensive & withholding.

Did I just become attached to him because in the same way my mom would try & be my therapist & now he does it & not her?

Am I fighting every urge in my body because I am projecting traumatic pain from my childhood? Or is it because my relationship is inherently traumatic?

I don't know. Writing this out makes it seem clear that I am hurting & breaking due to my commitment.

Talking & addressing these deep feelings with him makes my pain rise until it's unbearable. The emotional relief comes when I hear his apologies because then I know what I am feeling is real. But I lose it the second I see that my walls are fortified with 80 ton magnets.

They won't come down because over & over again I feel that what is being asked of me too much.

I've felt like this for years & I fight taking the glass out of my hands.

He asks me over & over if I want this. I clearly don't but then where do I have to go?

It's all sooo muddy in my mind.

No matter what I tell him it means that he is too abrasive & I don't have the ability to give him what he needs. That being kindness & gentle care.

I never feel inspired to give him that. Only occasionally when I can recognize how scared he is. When his fear isn't directed at me & I don't feel obliterated by the anger & hurt he sees.

We talked tonight because I felt this way. I didn't pour my heart out like this because I have been making such an effort to be cognizant of his mental space.

When I do communicate these things to him, he explains all the projections I spin onto him.

Love isn't easy & neither is being vulnerable. I teach him so much he tells me.

I feel like I regress so often that I can't even function.

A feeling I can't seem to let go of.

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dhampir-dyke · 2 years

Text

vent under cut ft kin shit

Eughghh I feel like I'm. Regressing a little. Normally I've mostly accepted the facts and reality of this life. Just another average human- aside from the massive amounts of psychological trauma- and that I am to live this life to try and be happy. There are no larger stakes, no true enemies to fight or defend against, no larger meaning or goal to strive for.

As a kid, I would do nothing but long for the escape from my shitty home life. For anything to latch onto to help me get through and give me the strength to survive. Even if it meant facing horrors worse than the ones I was accustomed to. I would daydream constantly of having my powers back, or having a way to escape my current reality, or having a larger destiny to work towards surviving and training for. I wanted so badly for my suffering to at least mean something. Sometimes, the reality of this life (the reality that I couldn't escape) is what made me try and kill myself as many times as I did. (Literally have lost count of the amount of attempts)

I've grown a lot since then, and while I admittedly do still miss friends, loved ones, and my abilities- I am aware that any chance of getting them back is slim to none (I won't rule anything out 100%). I know that nobody will ever save me, and I've come to realize that this life is about trying to be happy as myself. I've accepted this and I'm trying my best.

But the covid delirium + severe depression + C-PTSD is making certain things rise to the surface, and although I know it'll pass once I'm not sick anymore..... I feel like I've just sort of emotionally regressed. It hurts. I miss everyone and everything- even though some of my lives sucked shit- there were at least parts of it where I was truly happy. And even if I wasn't happy, I had the ability to protect other people's happiness. I hate feeling as weak as I do now. I hate that nobody takes me or my pain or what strength I have seriously. I miss being able to fly, or fight, or strike fear in those who wanna hurt me. I miss all of my previous homes and families. I miss being protected and protecting in turn. I wanna be my authentic self without people treating me and my emotions like a fucking joke. I want someone, anyone, to be in my corner no matter what. I want to do something meaningful and impactful with my life and my abilities.

I feel like a broken little kid again, grasping at straws and begging for someone to help me, for someone to give me my powers back, despite my own logic telling me it's futile.

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Note

number 42 for the drabble prompts please? :)

42. “I swear it was an accident.”

tw: death (not of main characters), kinda gross corpse descriptions

WC: 2456

Poet’s Sight

Jaskier keeps falling in with dangerous creatures and Geralt is starting to think he’s cursed. That is, until Geralt takes a contract for a noonwraith and Jaskier gets ahead of him. It is then Geralt remembers something important about the nature of rare poets.

That made the third time. Three monsters in as many months, and Geralt was starting to worry. Somehow, Jaskier had a habit of stumbling upon the creatures before him, even when he was doing his best to stay away from the fight. Though his medallion offered no hints, Geralt felt sure Jaskier had been cursed somehow. There was no other explanation for it. For two of the hunts, Geralt had not yet arrived in town, would not have been able to defend Jaskier if he got himself into any kind of trouble, and Jaskier had been entirely unaware of the contracts. But this had been the final straw. As things were, Jaskier ought not to be living.

“I swear, it was an accident,” Jaskier said. “The light was low and it seemed like any ordinary dog. I swear, it was an ordinary dog. It had fur and everything—nothing at all as you described.”

Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s shoulders, the corpse of the beast just yards away from where they stood. “It was a barghest. Do you have any idea how much danger you were in! It would have eaten you alive if I let it, torn you from the bowels out!”

“But it…”

“They don’t have a quality of mercy.”

Jaskier stared at the corpse. He wore a pinched expression, not quite comprehending the vision before him. The fleshy, mutated monster looked so much larger, so much more twisted than it had moments before. Its odd tongue, prickled and forked, flopped out from its foaming maw. That same tongue had felt the same as any dog’s before as it licked Jaskier’s face. It had been smooth and slimy and affectionate. And it had not had such large teeth.

He’d gone out to fetch more wood for the fire—really, he’d gone out to relieve himself in private—and he’d happened upon a dog among the bushes. It had looked perfectly sweet in the moonlight: a shaggy brown and white thing with a fluffy, wagging tail. It had followed after him on his way back to camp. Jaskier had always been fond of dogs, so he’d stopped awhile to pet it. Really, it had been friendly. It curled up at his feet and allowed him to scratch it behind the ears. Everything had been just fine, and he’d just picked up a large stick to initiate a quick game of fetch when Geralt came crashing out of the trees, sword raised.

“It was an ordinary dog,” Jaskier whispered. He still had the stick in his hand.

Geralt looked Jaskier in the eye. His nostrils flared ever-so slightly, as if scenting for a lie. The lines in his face smoothed and he sighed, prying the stick from Jaskier’s grasp. “I thought you’d seen it. The way you raised the stick …” He looked at it. It would have snapped in an instant in a true fight. He tossed it near the barghest’s corpse and turned Jaskier back towards camp.

“… You felt fur?” he asked.

Jaskier nodded. “Soft as anything.”

“I don’t understand it. To you, it was as if it were nothing more than a dog.”

“Perhaps I’m seeing things wrong. Was it … as it tasting me before the feast? When I pet it, was it simply waiting to size me up? Oh, Geralt, what if I’ve had my mind taken over by a witch? Am I seeing visions? Are you real?”

He reached up to grope at Geralt’s cheeks, pulling them and prodding at his armour, his swords, and his chest. Geralt pulled his hands away carefully and shook his head.

“There’s not a trace of magic around you as far as I can tell,” he grunted.

“Then we’ll have to find someone who can tell these things. I’m scared, Geralt. I already lack the ability to defend myself in other ways; if I don’t know when to run, I’ll surely wind up dead before the year is out, if not sooner!”

Probably sooner, Geralt thought. “We’ll consult a mage. There are curses strong enough to evade detection from the medallion. They’re rare, but not unheard of. A mage would be able to tell us more: what kind of curse it is and how to lift it.”

As they stepped into the safety of the firelight, Roach raised her head, flicking her ears towards Jaskier. He wobbled over to her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She sniffed him, then turned her ear to Geralt for answers.

Geralt was looking at Jaskier carefully. It would be too dangerous to stay in the woods another night. Where there was one barghest, there were bound to be others. He would keep watch until first light, then they’d set out for the next town.

“Jaskier,” Geralt called.

Jaskier uncurled from Roach’s neck.

“I want you to stay in town for my next contract,” he said. “You’ll under a curfew until this gets resolved: indoors between dusk and dawn. I want you on the inn grounds whenever I’m not present. Are we understood?”

Jaskier balked at being confined indoors. “Can’t I come along with you?” he asked.

“No. If this is a curse, you might be a danger to me on contracts. To me and yourself.” It would be a greater liability than merely getting underfoot. This thing seemed to attract danger, or else to pull Jaskier towards danger. Either way, he was staying put somewhere safe.

“But Geralt—”

“I won’t hear any argument,” Geralt snapped. He narrowed his eyes, pinning Jaskier with a glare. “Do you remember what happened two weeks ago? You heard a woman cry in the middle of the night. And what did you do?”

Jaskier sighed and flopped down on his bedroll. “She didn’t wail like a banshee. And I’ve told you a hundred times over: she looked human! I held her hand! You can’t hold the hand of a ghost,” he protested. “And what’s more, she spoke. It wasn’t nonsense. How was I to know what she was if I can’t trust my own eyes and ears?”

He lay down in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Geralt could feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves. “What I find odd is that none of them so far have hurt me,” he mumbled.

“That’s because I came in time to save your satin-covered ass,” Geralt replied.

“I was with the banshee for hours, Geralt. You didn’t arrive in town until the middle of the night. Why would she wait to kill me when she had me already?”

Geralt thought about it. A banshee was more often an omen than an outright threat, though still dangerous. He’d stayed close to Jaskier for the next three days to see what dreaded fortune the omen foretold, but he’d not come to any harm in that time. Then again, he’d never heard of a banshee speaking before. It was possible Jaskier had not been with her for hours as he claimed, for if his senses were betraying him, how could he know the passing of the time? His accounts were questionable until this was resolved.

When they arrived in town the next morning, it was just before noon. There was no inn, but they were given permission to stay in one of the farmer’s barns. Geralt went to the alderman for a contract and left Jaskier safely behind, composing in among the hay. It was a noonwraith, Geralt discovered, that had been withering the fields. He oiled his sword and returned to the edge of town to wait for it to appear.

On the way, he stopped by the barn to update Jaskier. He was surprised to hear no music within. When he looked, he did not see Jaskier dozing among the hay. He was not where he’d left him at Roach’s side. Listening closely, he heard no heartbeat within. Jaskier was gone.

Geralt cursed and tore himself from the barn. “Jaskier!” he called. But Jaskier was not about. Geralt followed the trail of his scent toward the fields, his feet pounding on the dry earth. He’d made Jaskier promise not to leave the barn. He’d damn well better be enchanted to wander off so mindlessly on his own.

“Miss? Little miss, would you please slow down! I’m not supposed to be out here!”

Geralt turned his head toward the sound of Jaskier’s pleas. There, down the hill, he saw a flash of blue among the yellow stalks. Jaskier was running along the edge of the field, one arm out as if chasing something. He was shouting in his worried voice. As Geralt watched, Jaskier paced in front of the boundary, hesitating before an opening in among the tall crops.

“Little girl?” Jaskier called. “This isn’t a game! You bring me back my ring this instant!” Then, he called out again, diving into the fray.

But Geralt had seen no girl.

Geralt charged down the hill and entered the fields full-tilt. He followed the trail, catching up from behind, listening as he did. His sword was at the ready. The sun was already approaching its apex, and soon the wraith would be out. If it wasn’t out already.

“Troublesome girl!” Jaskier gruffed. “First she steals my ring, then she drops it in the dirt like a seed among the ro—”

There came a pause, and Geralt heard a stalk break somewhere ahead by Jaskier. His voice came again from the same place. “Well, that’s an odd find. Popped up like a lucky charm. Did the thing grow through you?”

The wind stirred, carrying Jaskier’s words clearly, though he was still too far to reach. Geralt’s blood ran cold. His medallion was trembling against his chest, warning of the wraith’s arrival.

“Oh? Is it yours, young lady?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt felt the panic wash over him. A ring in a field. A token from the wraith. The idiot ought not to have touched it! She’d make him the target of her wrath, dry up his soul into a husk, and force him to waste himself away like the withered stalks around them with only—

“A dance?” Jaskier asked. He laughed, voice ringing clear above the wind. “Oh, very well, but only a very short one; I’ve still got to find that little girl, give her a lecture about respecting personal property.”

Geralt was almost upon them. He could see the clearing in the field ahead, the strong sunlight filtering through. Jaskier’s voice was clearer, and the wind had a strange quality to it. It seemed to lull in time to Jaskier’s speech.

“Sister? Ah, then I’d best go easy on her,” Jaskier said. He was moving away quickly now. The wind blew, and suddenly Jaskier was laughing, bright and clear. “Buried your mother’s ring? What a scamp! And you’ve been out here every afternoon liking for it since—and no wonder! It’s a lovely piece. May I?”

Geralt broke through the field in time to see Jaskier dancing with the wraith. She was a hollowed thing, burned by the sun, her hair bleached white. They turned once, then Jaskier lowered himself on one knee and, taking the wraith’s hand, slipped the ring onto her finger.

“There!” Jaskier said. “You know? Our rings almost make a pair.”

The wind blew and Jaskier appeared to be listening. He laughed, patting the wraith’s hands, and the wind stopped blowing. “Oh no, I’m afraid I’m spoken for. It would make a lovely engagement ring, but not to me. Even so, I don’t suppose a kiss would be amiss.” And so he leaned forward and kissed the wraith’s cheek, as if she were not a lifeless husk.

Geralt was stunned. It was … it was as if the wraith were speaking to Jaskier. He watched the two of them start up the dance again. He’d witnessed the dancing of noonwraiths before, and their victims screamed in horror until their final breath. The wraith made them dance in a mad frenzy until they fell to the ground, dead from exhaustion and terror. This dance was a frolic, full of laughter. It was unhurried as Jaskier allowed himself to be twirled round and round. When the dance came to an end, it had not been any more than the length of a song. Jaskier tilted his head, listening while the wind whistled in the field.

“So soon?” he asked. “Well, I thank you for the lovely dance. You be sure to tell your sister to mind her manners for me, won’t you? I’ve got to head back myself before I give my witcher a fright. I—oh, there she is now!”

Geralt turned to look where Jaskier was waving, but he saw nothing at all.

“You mind your sister,” Jaskier said, wagging a finger at the empty air. “You’re much too old to be getting up to these tricks.”

And at once, Geralt understood. Jaskier was a poet. There were poets in this world who were made of a different cut—who could see beyond the limits of the physical world. The banshee, the barghest, the wraith … and Geralt was sure even now that Jaskier was shaking his finger in the face of a ghost. They were all of the other realm.

He had sight.

Jaskier waved as the wraith began to fade through the field, disappearing. “Take care!” he called. “And be careful on your way. There’s a contract in town, so there’s trouble about somewhere. Have no fear, we’ll be sure to make everything safe, my witcher and I.”

At that, Geralt snorted, and Jaskier turned his head.

Jaskier turned pale at once, clutching his hands to his chest. “Ger—I can explain, Geralt!” he stammered. “I swear, I would have stayed in the barn, but this little girl came in and she stole my ring right off my finger! It’s my father’s ring, and I couldn’t just let … her …” Jaskier blinked, staring at Geralt, perplexed. “Are you laughing?”

Indeed Geralt was. All the stress from the last three months bubbled up and escaped as laughter, shaking his shoulders.

Jaskier chuckled along nervously. “I would have thought you’d be furious with me for running out. Erm … did you finish your contract then?”

Geralt clapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder. “I’d say you finished it for me today,” he corrected. “And I’ve just figured out the answer to your little curse.”

Jaskier perked up slightly, realizing he wasn’t in trouble just yet. “Is that so? Will you tell me then?”

“If you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Geralt smiled and rubbed the ash from Jaskier’s lips with his glove. “Never,” he said, “kiss another noonwraith again.”

“Kiss a what?” Jaskier squawked.

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lucycola · 3 years

Note

Hey could you do a Spock X reader where she knows nothing about Vulcans and like keeps accidentally doing taboo things e.g touching hands or touching his ears

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this! I accidentally made it gender neutral, because I forgot what pronouns, you used. I’m sorry! I hope you like it.

WARNINGS: Fluff, affection, ignorance of affection in Vulcan culture idk. Maybe Spock is slightly OOC but who cares. I took a little liberty of giving the reader a pinch of background.

To say you were oblivious was an understatement. You weren’t a complete idiot, or anything, just innocently scatterbrained. Perhaps that was the explanation why you didn’t flinch when every you were chastised for a mistake or given a strict order by your commanding officer. As a blue shirt, you fell under the command of the Enterprise’s first officer, and his reputation as a stony, unfeeling, authoritarian preceded him. You were never bothered by this. He was most terrifying, others noted, when Captain Kirk left him in charge when unable to take the chair. You were warned about him-to never cross him and always do exactly as he said. Spock was a hard-ass. He was handsome and perhaps at first you wondered, but it had been made clear to by others he wasn’t interested in anyone.

You had met more terrifying people. You had nine brothers and a strict, often unfair and bully of a father. Commander Spock was a piece of cake. It was in your nature to be gentle, welcoming, and comforting despite the constitution of your upbringing. It was your personality. You didn’t like to let people bring you down.

You were elated alone to be living your dream, anyway. You weren’t going to let the attitude of anyone around you affect your nature or happiness.

You obviously didn’t know anything about Vulcans either.

The first touch was accidental. It always is.

You never took the Vulcan to be clumsy, but on one occasion while discussing your current assignment in passing he dropped his holotape. You both reached for it, and in a cliché manner brushed hands. While your boss pulled away, you did not and picked up the tape.

“Here ya go!” You cheerily patted the tape in his hand for good measure, “I’ll have that report in the morning like you’ve requested, sir.”

Bypassers gawked as you cheerily skipped away. Your commanding officer only quirked a brow and went on his way.

The next time was less on purpose and more out of your kindness as your commander internally lamented about his captain’s safety during an emergency situation. He had donned the chair and even while appearing composed and direct you had an eye for spotting worry in well kept men. In an brief moment you pressed your hand to his wrist and said softly, “He will be okay. You’ll make sure of it.”

He tensed under your touch and you removed your hand a smiled.

“Report to your station, Ensign,” he said in his usual tone, no hint of distaste or approval in his voice.

“Yes sir.”

The third time was even worse. Somehow you had been suckered to prompting Spock by Doctor McCoy into reporting to an impromptu physical. Confidentiality be damned, the Vulcan’s stress levels were unusually high and it was affecting his demeanor. You accidentally overheard the nurse and the doctor whispering something perhaps about pon farr happening again, but no it hadn’t been seven years yet. Whatever that was.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to me, but if you say it’s important, I’ll try.”

“You’re his favorite, so you’re my best bet.”

“Mister Spock doesn’t have favorites,” you laughed, “But I’ll do it anyway. Someone has to draw the shortest straw. I never mind it being me.”

“Thankyou, Ensign. And good luck.”

You skipped along to the your commander’s quarters. You had never been inside and only rarely had delivered your reports to him in person when requested. He couldn’t always come to you and that was understandable.

At the chime the door slid open and though it was subtle, your boss clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hello, Mister Spock,” you greeted, “Doctor McCoy-”

“I am aware of the doctor’s request. As it is not mandatory I do not find it necessary to attend.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt you. He was tense and though he stood perfectly erect like a statue there was a little shake in his right hand. Without thinking, you grasped it to still the quiver.

“Are you alright?”

Many would expect his to snatch it away, but he didn’t and stood there. If he was caught off guard, it wasn’t apparent. His expression was unmoving and his eye contact never wavered.

“I am fine, Ensign. Report back to your duties.”

“Doctor McCoy said it was important.”

“I am not here to entertain the doctor’s every illogical human whim.” He pulled his hand away, “There is no empirical evidence to suggest I am ill.”

“You’re shivering.” You put your hands on your hip and gave him the most mothering look you could muster.

“Multiple factors such as the natural low temperature of deep space can illicit such a reaction,” he retorted.

“It’s broiling in your cabin, Mister Spock. Only people with fevers do things like that.”

“Humans, Ensign. Humans,” he corrected, “I deduce you are not aware of Vulcan biology or customs.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” you requested softly, “How am I supposed to work efficiently under an ill commanding officer?”

The way you spoke nearly convinced him to do your bidding, but still he remained stubborn.

“I do not comprehend how that would deter your work efficiency.”

You grabbed his hand again, “I am going to worry myself to death if you really are ill and you’re just trying to act like you’re alright. That will keep me from working like I’m supposed to. Efficient crew needs an efficient captain.” You winked at him.

“But Captain Kirk-”

“It’s a metaphor, Mister Spock. Now please come so the doctor can stop paging me and I can work on my report concerning the Althenian plant’s healing properties and various uses from its sap.”

“I yield,” he said after a small beat and without releasing your hand, followed you to the medbay. More people inwardly gawked watching to drag him down the hall. His face was tense, albeit slightly amused.

After reaching your destination you waved him and the doctor off sweetly and made your way back to the lab. You heart wrapped around the thought of him being ill and you hid that worry ill. A little heat bloomed in your chest at his previous touch. You brushed it away. No, you told yourself.

The doctor was only a little surprised. His suspicions were confirmed.

“I had my doubts at first, Spock, but now I see it’s true.”

“Despite Vulcan’s telepathic abilities, I cannot automatically read your mind. Elaborate, Doctor.”

The doctor chucked, “That ensign is your favorite.”

“I do not understand.”

“Who else could have convinced you to come here to let me scan you? Probably not even Jim-”

“I am inclined to follow the captain’s every order.”

“You don’t let anyone touch you like that. Especially not for a long time. If I’m not mistaken you two were practically kiss-”

“That will be enough elaboration, doctor. Please proceed with your medical assessment, as I have much work to attend to.”

The doctor chuckled again. “It’s too bad I can’t tell with that one. They act like that towards everyone.”

“Everyone,” Spock repeated flatly although it was intended to be a question.

“Sweetest soul I’ve ever met. Lights up a room as soon as they enter it.”

“Indeed,” Spock nodded, familiar with the colloquialism.

The doctor’s eyebrows raised and he grinned, “I knew it.”

You of course were oblivious to all of this as you continued through your work, happy as a clam.

After some deliberation one of your coworkers decided to explain the delicacies of Vulcan culture after viewing a friendly hand grasp as a greeting between you and your commanding officer. You were elated to see his shivering had stopped and once again he tensed under the touch, but nodded his head at your greeting. You had blushed while doing so. It was sweet, but your coworker had to break it to you as they had before when warning you last time about him not being interested in anyone.

“Vulcans don’t like to be touched, you know,” they said to you, taking you aside.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re very sensitive to skin to skin contact. They guard themselves mostly, but hand touching is extremely taboo the way kissing in public or other sexual acts are.”

“You mean...” you blushed, “I’ve been--! I hope he’s not offended.”

“Normally he’s not afraid to explain things or clear up-“ you coworker coughed,”-unwanted affection. I’ve seen plenty girls get a talking down to.”

“What are you saying?”

“Perhaps he’s forcing himself to be polite.”

“Oh, I’ve got to apologize right away!”

You felt so stupid! How could you be so offensive to him or his culture? You should have read up on his customs before truly interacting with him. It would seem like a smart thing to do-but you were so lost to the world it was embarrassing.

You paused in front of his door for the first time in your life, afraid to speak to him.

The door open quickly and you stepped back, surprised. He had looked like he had been going to leave and you sheepishly smiled, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, sir. I need to speak to you.”

“Come inside.”

You blushed at the request, wringing your hands as you entered.

You turned to him and blurted, “I had no idea what I was doing, sir, I swear. Had I known that touching you was wrong I would stop. I’m so used to being touchy-feely on Earth I forgot that not everyone-”

“Ensign,” he said firmly.

“Yes?” you squeaked.

“Had those interactions provoked me I would have made it known. I should be the one offering an apology. I should have explained what such interactions mean on Vulcan before anyone else claimed the opportunity. I assume someone took the liberty of doing so.”

“Yessir. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.”

“Why not?’

“Because your actions did not provoke me, but precisely did the opposite.”

“What-what do you mean?” Your face was fully red and you obscured it with your hands. He let out a sound that was the closest Vulcan thing as a sigh and stepped closed to you.

He grasped your hands and lowered them from your face. His eyes were soft and the most vulnerable as you had every seen them.

He pressed his right hand that was shivering terribly to the side of your face. It stilled instantly.

“I am aware of your affection for me and I return the sentiment.”

You couldn’t find your voice and after a long moment of studying your features he leaned down to give you a kiss, warm and firm.

You gasped into his lips and pressed back.

He released you and you looked at him starry eyed.

“So it was true, what the doctor said, you said in a hushed tone.

Spock’s arms were around you gently, “Elaborate.”

“I am your favorite.”

“Affirmative.”

FIN

#spock #spock x reader #spock x gender neutral #startrek #star trek #tos #ask #request #mister spock #mr spock #s'chn t'gai spock #doctor mccoy #bones #leonard mccoy

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hongism · 3 years

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the little things - k. yeosang

↣ pairing: yeosang x reader; mentioned poly ot8 x reader ↣ genre: sfw, fluff, slight angst, fantasy au, witch ateez au ↣ wc: 2.5k ↣ summary: as it turns out, even you have a breaking point. yeosang is there to pick up the pieces as you fall apart. ↣ warnings: a lil language, talks of stress and anxiety

If there’s anything for you to pride yourself on, it would typically be your ability to handle any amount of work handed your way. Your shop is not the only one in the area – plenty of people have a need for herbalists and alchemists these days – but that doesn’t keep you from being busy nonetheless. This time of year is the most busy for you. Between holiday orders and people who get sick when the colder weather strikes, you find it quite reasonable to say that you are drowning in your work.

As such, it pulls you away from the coven and your eight lovers more and more with each passing day. It isn’t that you don’t want to see them or that you are attempting to push them out of your life; simply put, you are busy, even if San refuses to believe that each time he comes to visit. Your mood, which is already sour as it is, has been considerably worse today thanks to a visit from said familiar this morning. Not because of anything he did, however; no, you only have yourself to blame for being in such a bad mood because when he fluttered in through the window and shifted on your kitchen counter, he just so happened to shed a few feathers on the floor. Something that isn’t typically a big deal. Something that happens regularly. Something even Seonghwa, a damn hearth witch, doesn’t mind.

Yet apparently, this morning was the straw that broke the camel’s back (it’s you, you’re the camel), and you snapped at San so quickly that the familiar stumbled backward and hit his hand on the knife you left out on the counter. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the man retreated back into his raven form and flew straight out the window before you could even offer to help clean the wound and apologize.

So yeah, today has been an absolute shitshow from start to finish, but you have so many orders on your plate that you can’t even spare two seconds to cry from the pressure of it all. Even midway through the afternoon, you are still laboring over all the concoctions and potions that you have to make despite having worked for well over nine hours already. Half of these orders are not even due until next week, and it would be perfectly reasonable for you to space them out or schedule them differently, but your stomach is in knots at the mere thought of waiting to start them any longer.

You don’t hear the door creak open moments later, too engrossed in the steaming cauldron on your countertop. When there is a whoosh of air and a sudden burst of magic in your entryway, you snap into action, whirling to face the intruder with a metal ladle in hand.

“Yeosang,” you sigh, equal parts exasperated and relieved. The blond stands before you with a gentle smile painting his sharp features, and those cat-like eyes blink several times in your direction, pupils relaxing back into their natural feline slits. Honestly, you should be more confused about the hybrid’s appearance in your home. It is rare for him to leave the premises of the coven’s cottage, and even rarer for him to do so alone, but you push that thought to the back of your mind in favor of returning to your work.

“That’s all the attention you’re gonna give me?” Yeosang quips as you turn away from him. Another sigh slips from your lips without you intending it to, and you have to bite down hard on your tongue to keep from snapping back at him. “Y/n…”

“I’m busy, Yeosang.” Tone flat and biting, not even the sharp pressure of your teeth can keep you from spatting the words over your shoulder. “These orders won’t finish themselves.”

“We’re worried about you, angel.” Yeosang’s presence pushes closer to the kitchen but he doesn’t step any further than that, eyes trailing over your hunched form from the doorframe.

“Yeah, well, save the lecture for later.”

“I’m not here to lecture you.” If you were to glance at Yeosang now, you are certain that you would see his delicate cat ears twitching with annoyance just from his tone of voice. “You know Seonghwa or Hongjoong would be here if that were the case.”

“Surprised they aren’t here given what happened with San this morning.”

“They – just like the rest of us – know that you have a lot going on right now. We can’t fault you for being stressed.”

“You could fault me for being a bitch,” you scoff, dropping your ladle back into the cauldron and stirring its contents to busy yourself.

“I would never claim you to be something you’re not.”

The words are sickeningly sweet – far too sweet compared to what you deserve to hear at the moment. Part of you wishes he would just be cruel and tear into you so that you could actually cry and get the building emotions out of your system.

“So what? You’re just here to distract me from my work and say you’re worried about me?” This time, you actually do see Yeosang’s ears twitch in annoyance because you shift to look over to where he’s standing. He doesn’t let the emotion shine in his eyes though, biting it back in favor of smiling at you.

“Yes.” He folds his lithe arms over his chest and levels you with a determined stare. “That is precisely what I am trying to do.” A step closer. “Is that a problem, Y/n?” Another step towards you. “I can stand here and pester you until you get frustrated enough to kick me out, or—” he paused beside your counter now, slipping around it so that he can be directly across from you “—you can admit that you need a break.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle of your ladle, and it’s certainly leaving the indentations of the metal on your palm but you don’t let up for a second. Yeosang’s gaze searches yours, begging and pleading for some sort of give on your part. You are nothing if not stubborn though, and you absolutely refuse to give in that easily. He’ll have to try harder than that to get you to break. Yeosang seems to realize that in less than a second because he dips around the side of the counter to join you where you’re standing now. You pay him little to no attention this time.

Then, as you are in the midst of reaching for an empty vial, a hand darts out to snatch the vial out of your grasp. You open your mouth to snap at Yeosang for disturbing your work yet again, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity to because he darts behind your back and snakes a hand forward to take the ladle from you as well. It leaves you completely helpless: stuck in the cage that is Yeosang’s arms as he brings them around your shoulders and begins to do your job for you. The heat of his breath is rushing down the back of your neck, the feel of his arms around you is suffocating in its warmth, and the mere gesture of watching him pour the potion into the empty vial nearly causes you to break.

Yeosang hums as he works, a gentle and soft tune that he sings to Wooyoung when trying to get him to fall asleep or to Hongjoong when the man is overworking himself as usual or even to Jongho during their afternoon naps on the couch. Now he gives it to you, humming directly in the shell of your ear as he peaks over your shoulder to make sure he doesn’t spill a drop of the mixture.

“How many do you need filled?” He asks once the first tube is full and sealed with a small cork. You are so overwhelmed in that moment that you can’t even find it in you to respond. Yeosang barely has time to react and set the ladle and vial down safely before you’re reeling on him and shoving your face into his chest. The air leaves his lungs in a huff, then the small clatter of him releasing the ladle into the cauldron resounds behind you. You can’t see a thing past the soft cotton of his tunic.

“S-Shit,” you mutter. The tears are already welling you against your will, and your throat seems to be closing in on itself. Yeosang drapes his arms over your back without needing an explanation, letting you push him back until his tailbone hits the counter behind him. He settles against it without complaint though and tucks his arms further around you until every single one of your senses is completely full of him. He smells of fresh lilacs and lavender, clothes soft on your skin, hands warm in your hair. He doesn’t even need to say a word for you to shatter completely. Within the next two seconds, you are sobbing into his chest, well past your breaking point in terms of stress and anxiety.

This is a first for Yeosang, even if it seems to be something regular for you. When it comes to comfort, Hongjoong or Seonghwa are the first to be at your side to ease your concerns and worries. Yunho after that, then maybe Mingi. But never Yeosang. That just isn’t the type of relationship the two of you share. The dynamics among all of you are different but the same, all ending in a place called love. And even if this is not something Yeosang typically does for you, you feel the love and warmth in it nonetheless.

His hold on you doesn’t let up for a second, and he simply lets you cry against his body for quite some time before he adjusts your position and pulls you away from the kitchen. You pay no attention to where he’s taking you, only that he guiding you away from work, but the intensity of your sobs would keep you from working anyway. All you can do is let him tug you along until you feel him drag you down to the couch, pulling your body over his and tucking you under his arms once more.

“Just let it all out, angel,” he murmurs, lips dancing over the column of your neck. “I’m here, you don’t have to suffer alone.”

“I-It’s just so much,” you sob. The waterworks are already out and ready to play, but you were hesitant to open up about the causes of your stress until Yeosang whispered those words that seemed to give you permission.

“I know it is, love. You have so much on your plate. So much to deal with.”

“It’s too – too much. I c-can’t do it all.”

“You can, Y/n. You can do it. You know why?” Yeosang shifts his head up a bit to press a warm kiss to your temple. “You always handle everything with such grace and determination. You work so hard and get so little in return, but I promise you – Y/n, I promise you that your efforts do not go unnoticed. It may feel like you are doing this all for nothing, but it will all pay off in the end. Your hard work will pay off.”

“It doesn’t feel like it will. I feel like I’m not good enough, not smart enough, not talented enough… I just f-feel like I’m not enough.”

Yeosang pulls back upon hearing those words, hands reaching up to cradle your face and look you in the eye. His gaze is absolutely unreadable, and you don’t have it in you to make an effort to figure out what emotion he is harboring there. His words do more than enough to explain it to you.

“No matter what you do, what paths you travel down, what choices you make in life, you are enough. You are smart enough, talented enough, good enough. You are capable and powerful in so many ways, even if you can’t see it yourself. And you always have at least one person at your back, cheering you on and rooting for you when you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel any longer. Because no matter what, you deserve to feel like you’re enough. Everyone deserves that, and I know you can see that in others yet when it comes to yourself, you feel like it’s selfish to give yourself that much. It’s not selfish or egotistical or wrong to let yourself be enough. The work… it might be a lot now, it might be hard now, it might be stressful now. That doesn’t mean it will always be this way though. It will get better in time, and you will come out of this stronger than before, stronger than ever. I know this is true because I know your determination and drive to be good at everything you do. Sometimes we have days where we can’t even get out of bed because we’re so overwhelmed by everything. And even if you have those days, it doesn’t mean that you are any less than what you are. And what you are is enough.”

Your tears are spilling over the fingers that trace over your cheeks in softly-traced patterns. Your lip is wet with the tears, and you are quite positive that you look an absolute mess and a wreck, but Yeosang doesn’t seem to mind one bit. It’s with a gentle, barely-there pressure that he lands a kiss on your lips. Merely a gesture meant to provide more physical comfort, but you bask in it still, sinking your mouth deeper atop his until your tongues entangle in his mouth. You only part when you are completely out of breath and unable to stay connected any longer. Rather than pulling you down for another kiss, Yeosang simply pushes your head back down to his chest and lets you rest there as cries continue to leave you.

And he continues to smile at you. Coaxes tear after tear out of your body, and his humming resumes. He presses his hand to your hair without a care in the world about the way your tears soak through his shirt. The humming blossoms into sweetly sung words, ones that push warmth and comfort through your whole body.

“When it’s overwhelming, hold on tight. I’ll be here, don’t forget it ‘cause in life sometimes we need a helping hand. You’ll be alright. Just take it slow. One day at a time.”

...

a/n: kira i know you already finished school but i wrote this with you in mind bc i know how stressful these past few days have been for you bc of the end of the semester :c @felixity i love u!!! and for everyone who is having a hard or stressful time because of school! hang in there! you’ve got this! im rooting for you and wishing the best for you <3 take care of yourselves and i hope this little fic can provide some comfort for you 💗

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trashmouth--breather · 3 years

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IT Chapter One: After the Flood (1957), Parts 1-4

oh boy, here we go...

-Though it shouldn't surprise me, I was still a bit startled by the fact that Bill was only ten when George died.

-The first chapter also introduces the first Derry flooding in 1931--exactly 27 years before the current flood in 1957, so of course there's some reference to It here. I felt as though this devastating flooding was Pennywise and his warm welcome to the town, the ode to It's torment, if you will. Even if the water damage was extensive and it cost them billions to repair, the people of Derry only trudge forward to "get through [the flooding]...and to then forget it." Just get over it. Much like how they handle their demon clown in the sewers, and the mass child killings, huh?

-The contrasting tone between Georgie's boots making a "jolly jingling as [he] ran toward his strange death" was especially pretty. Jingling made me think of bells, and of course, bells usually signify the coming of something, or even a jovial tune or occasion. Quite eerie.

-"Bill was good at reading and writing...[but that] wasn't the only reason why Bill got all A's on his report cards. Telling was only part of it. Bill was good at seeing." I don't wanna grasp at nonexistent straws here (or maybe I do) but the "seeing" bit could be a reference to Bill's mnemonic device from his speech therapy. He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts. Earlier in the quote, George knows his big brother is a good writer, and also recognizes his ability to "see" and have a perceptive outlook in his literature. This kinda tied into why Bill becoming an author and his mnemonic device being one of the braver things to defeat Pennywise was so important. Bill didn't just want to tell the same old story, he wanted people to see it how he did, to see the "ghosts" that no one else could. Which was exactly why overcoming his stutter was him breaking off that fear, he was the only one who suffered with the stutter, maybe that's his "ghost." I'm going on a tangent this is for a later post I'll stop talking.

-This is completely irrelevant, but I have "his left arm curled around the doorjamb in a deathgrip" underlined in my copy, and the following written underneath: enjoy your arm while you still have it Georgie.

-"The smell of the monster, the apotheosis of all monsters." Just beautiful. We're seven pages in and already King is being poetic.

-The visual of George imagining something in the darkness of their basement while looking for wax was so spot on. The quote in the previous bullet point was the stage setter for It, how the children envision their fears. Georgie introducing his fear of the dark as a monster "crouched and lurking" who could "eat anything," but in George's fear-induced lack of rationale, knew It wanted "boymeat." This whole passage was just, eek. The only state of relief for him was the sound of his mother playing the piano in the living room, with King comparing it to "music from another world." Since I've read this before, and I hate to break it to anyone who hasn't read IT, George's mother abruptly stopped the piano playing once he died, so that was a punch to the fandom gut.

-On that note ^ I found this sort of grief in reverse. George fears for things in which he cannot see in the darkness (Pennywise) and the only relief was the soothing sound of the piano played by his mother. At the end of the chapter (or chapter two, technically) we find out that Mrs. Denbrough was faced with the most crippling fear of all: losing one of her sons, which was sort of like It in a way. Then that soothing act of playing the piano ceases, much like the fear that George alternately faced.

-I'll mention this analogy in further posts but It is likened to that of a snake many, many times. George's embodiment of his fear of the darkness was like a snake, with him knowing it "would simply slither part of its rotted self up." The slithering serpent of whatever he imagined was in the basement was "rotted," which also plays on another commonality in the novel of It's overall smell being decaying, rotting, and musty (as all of the Losers minus Richie have noted). Sorry, I'm all over the place but I also love this book aha-

-Once George loses his precious paper boat, and meets Pennywise in the sewer, we are (as I'll repeat this word, forgive me) introduced to It's mind games on the children It feeds on. To George, Pennywise's voice is "perfectly reasonable, and rather pleasant." This rhetoric, if you will, is reinforced further (because, excluding Eddie, Pennywise only feeds on children) when George realizes he only truly believes this clown in the sewers is real because he wasn't ten years older. Children have a different state of mind than adults, and will believe just about anything if it's keyed to the right kid.

-More mind game stuff. The balloons that Pennywise brings forth are "like gorgeous ripe fruit in one hand." This isn't just a somewhat pleasant simlie so Georgie feels secure, it's also a play on temptation. Forbidden fruit? Serpent? Am I getting too far into this?

-Something I thought was kinda interesting was that Pennywise says to George that, "...you're no stranger to me." Which I interpreted as this: earlier, It changes his appearance so his eyes resemble George's mothers (so it's something familiar, "no stranger") or he isn't a stranger to fear? Everyone's a victim of something or other?

-The end of the chapter (part 4) shifts into first person. Which I found annoying, and a bit confusing, but I'm pretty sure it's just Mike, since he is the only other narrator in the whole book to use first person. Don't quote me on that.

Thanks for taking the time to read this!! Please feel free to comment on my analysis (whether you think I'm right, or full of horse shit) and reblog if you have any ideas!

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yarrowleef · 3 years

Text

Read Darkness Within all in one sitting last night and then passed out so here are my scattered thoughts i wrote down as i read, (afterthoughts in parenthesis)

Darkness Within Spoilers, obv

UGH GOD THE SECOND HAND EMBARRESMENT FROM SQUIRREL FAKE FLIRTING WITH ASHFUR IT HURTS

Just remembered Sandynose died and got a small boost of happiness (will Hawkwing and Plumwillow ever be allowed to talk again now? I mean probly not b/c they aren’t protags and non-protags don’t rly have friends but I can hope. Sorry, Hawkwhing and Plumwillow’s short-lived friendship in Hawkwings Journey was one of the last times I felt something)

Ghost fleas lol

Mothwing: i’m rude now. (but more importantly, Fuck Tigerheartstar for forcing his son to be around the cat that hurt him so badly, like he HAS to know how upset everyone is regarding Shadowsight and his accidentally helping the imposter, and he’s making him be the sole one to tend to him??? There is NO REASON Puddleshine couldn’t have done it. You think Puddleshine is going to try and murder someone?? )

Oh no don't make this a traveling book, and a ROOTBRISTLE traveling book this is going to be insufferable

BACON AND EGGS

Lightleap Is Good (Hey didn’t Shadowsight have another sister? lets be real we all knew Pouncekit was going to end up as the forgettable 3rd one)

Bristlefrost’s crush continues to feel unnatural to me. It’s like she’s grasping at straws romanticizing the most generic things.....wow....I love how ur just so...bare minimum competent....being polite to the loner we came all this way to ask for help like any somewhat reasonable person would....How admirable...I love the way you just *clenches fist* exhibit some basic traits of loyalty and skill that literally every warrior has (I s2g I’m this close to head canon-ing Bristle as a clueless aromantic who doesn't understand what romance is actually suppose to feel like so she just looks at feelings of low-bar admiration and assumes “oh I guess this is that “romantic attraction” everyone’s always talking about? guess I must be in love???” because both her crushes have felt out of nowhere and like. Idk fake/forced sounding like she’s just telling me that that she’s In Love Now while I continue to not actually feel it at all from her end. I know it’s just that I hate the way Erin’s write female characters in love but this head-canon makes me laugh)

Got scared because I thought they were going to villainize Spotfur for not wanting kits for a minute, but also excited at the concept of maybe exploring a female character that doesn’t want to be a mother, but it turns out she was just pulling a Sparkpelt and actually DID want the kits all along and was only hesitant because she’s sad. Shrug oh well. (the only female character in warriors that was distinctly upset about pregnancy and motherhood was Lizardstripe and as we all know she was eeeeeevil and abusive and “overly ambitious” because why else would you not come around to being happy about motherhood?? YES I’M STILL SALTY ABOUT YELLOWFANG’S SECRET, BAD BOOK) Whatever it’s fine so long as Spot doesn’t lose her rebel leader spirit forever and default to “soft mom” personality for the rest of her life, I gotta have hope because I actually like Bristle and Spot’s current relationship. Also I am actually very grateful they never made Bristle resentful at Spot for getting with her crush, as lots of middle grade/YA media has a very bad habit of demonizing female romantic “competition” and its super gross, so I rly do like that Bristlefrost is so protective and caring towards her instead. )

This series is trying to tell me that Rootspring is actually Big but I refuse to accept that. he has dumb scrawny bitch energy and we all know it

Sunrise: “Thunderclan may be better with a new leader” lol go off (i mean........they right tho...It’s unfortunate that the tension in this whole plot is a bit dampened by the fact that i DO in fact want bramble to die v badly. I don’t even have special hatred for him, I’m just bored of him.)

Yes Lionblaze beat the shit out of Ashfur

*HOLY SHIT THAT’S FUCKED!!!! (I wrote this in reference to the ghost summoning scene, this was all I could manage at the time, that scene was WILD and I am VIBING WITH THE HORROR OF IT ALL)

* Brashfur: Oh yeah? Could Ashfur fake THIS? *stands up with slightly better posture* Shadowsight: oh damn you got me there...... (asdfhhfhhgh im sorry that was really funny, how did that prove anything?? ONLY A ~REAL~ WARRIOR COULD STAND UP STRAIGHT WE ALL KNOW ASHFUR IS INCAPABLE OF GOOD POSTURE!)

End of the book: *LAUGHING NERVOUSLY* WHAT THE FUCK??? (I thought he was just gonna kill Squirrelflight right there holy shit can you imagine the RIOTS that would ensue in the wake of all this Squirrel/Bramble discourse I was so scared for a second.

But it’s fine, she just....went to super hell instead......Warriors has come so far lmao WHAT IS HAPPENING

Final Notes:

*On Mothwing, I don’t think her behavior struck me as “CHARACTER BUTCHERING” as much as it did for other people? I mean.....Warriors fans will say that literally any time a character does ANYTHING less then perfectly nice I think her actions just seemed that much harsher because we are reading from Shadowsight’s POV, and Shadowsight is taking everything 10x more personally right now (understandably so, but Mothwing isn’t inside his head) she wasn’t trying to hurt him. Also... like... Shadowsight DID get his name too early. It’s not Mothwing’s job to put his feelings above everything else, she’s not even his mentor, Puddleshine on the other hand, as his main mentor, I don’t understand what his deal is ignoring Shadowsight, that’s not how you help an apprentice but I suppose I chalk many of his mistakes up to also not being the most experienced medicine cat (he barely even had his own mentor.) Maybe he’s distant because he feels guilty and actually blames himself for not guiding Shadowsight better?? the two of them haven’t communicated about it yet so idk

any way I give Mothwing a pass to be a little short tempered right now as a cat who has had her abilities periodically questioned all her life no matter how hard she works or how much experience she has, just because she doesn’t vibe with the spiritual cult side of the clans, I can understand why she’s a bit defensive of being questioned and frustrated watching so much hurt happen Yet Again due to reliance on StarClan visions over common sense, and I for one still stan her for slandering StarClan and refusing to accept Mistystar’s bullshit banishing like everyone else. Sometimes a character is at the end of their rope and can’t manage to be 100% nice 24/7 and that’s maybe not inherently bad writing? idk just my hot take. At a certain point we all gotta reckon with the fact that our perception of most popular supporting characters in heavily colored by fanon and we can’t always get mad at the authors for not adhering to it

*The sisters magic shit is my fav worldbuilding warriors has had in AGES, I love the way it’s described and it actually feels like it adds something to this world. I love this horror imagery with the ghosts, very excited for that.

*still won’t be thrilled if Ashfur is working alone, because his motive doesn’t make sense right now. I mean the trying to get Squilf thing, sure, whatever, but the “I will make everyone pay for what they did to me”???? cause like?? Who??? they didn’t do anything to him?? Ashfur’s grievance was very specifically JUST Squilf. He has no other cause for revenge, he had no other beef or complaints about the clans to my knowledge? The cat that killed him is dead, and she’s like, the only other one that I could see as having “wronged” him?? I guess he also didn’t like Firestar much according to Graystripe’s Vow (and on account of how willing he was to kill him w/ Hawkfrost) but Firestar is ALSO dead. I don’t understand his angle. Will have to see last 2 books to judge i suppose.

*All in all I am interested to see where this is going!! but also the pacing as I feared is becoming a major issue. It’s better then ending the main conflict on book 3 like Vision of Shadows did, but omg. Hardly anything happened in all these pages. I realized I was over half way through and nothing about the situation had actually CHANGED or advanced at all in all that time. Similar to the past 2 books which I believe could have been combined, this plot felt like it should have been the first half of a book. Discussing whether or not to kill the imposter isn’t much of a standalone plot, it’s just the set up to a plot. Finding the sisters didn’t need to be a whole long thing, the debates about the Imposters fate didn’t need to be repeated 10 times, all those chapters illustrating that “Shadowsight is sad” were also drawn out, repetitive, and interchangeable, we probably only needed 2 or so chapters showing his struggles to get the necessary information across. It felt like a lot of padding, it was really slow and I did a lot of skimming. I am still very interested in the overarching plot and mystery behind the ghosts so that kept me reading but man this “will they won’t they kill him” plot did not justify it’s own whole book. Alas this is a persisting issue that will never be resolved while they continue to force 6 books into 1 series that doesn’t need 6 books. I’m sure the writers are doing the best they can with these unfortunate constraints but still, it’s a wonder this slow padding isn’t more of a detriment to their younger readers that the books are supposed to be marketed to.

#warrior cats #the broken code #darkness within #the darkness within #darkness within spoilers #wc tbc #tbc #is that enough tags #yarrow speaks #wc criticism #long post #the broken code spoilers #warrior cats spoilers

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Twin Snowflakes 23: Struggling

“Join me…” Shiva called out to Summer, extending her hand. “It’s been so long.” Her voice was like a siren, tempting and calm. “Aren’t you tired of being so helpless?”

Summer’s entire body seemed to be drawn towards the words. Inch by inch, her feet took her a step closer. However, not without resistance. “No…” Summer muttered, her mind clouded. Her right hand held back her left from reaching out while her legs did their best not to move. “No, this isn’t….I don’t…”

“Don’t try and fight it. You know how this all ends if you do.” Shiva smiled, “Nothing but dread. You keep telling yourself you’ll get stronger, that you can stand alone but you can’t. I’m not the only one who knows it either. How many times do you think your family can save you? They’ll die trying, because they love you despite all reason. Can you live with that? I know you can’t.”

Tears ran down Summer’s face. With all of her power, Summer still made her way forward. “Leave them...alone. Please…” she asked, knowing who she was dealing with.

“I’m not the one hurting them. If you were stronger, then you wouldn’t be here right now, begging. Does it hurt, the weakness? I know it must be unbearable.” Shiva cooed. “You’ll never be enough.”

“I’ll...I’ll stop you.”

“Ha, you can’t even stop your legs right now. Gods, it’s really embarrassing it’s taken me this long to have you. I mean seriously, you’re pathetic. Every pill you take, I spit out. Any cut you carve, I make it like it never happened. I know you know that very well….”

Summer’s eyes begin to dim. The pounding pain in her head banging like a drum solo. Desperately she wished it stopped. Summer wished she’d stop, completely. Shiva had made it very clear though. Summer wouldn’t be done until Shiva said she was done. The will to reach for her was too great, and the pain eased with the gap between them closing.

Shiva smiled tenderly as she watched Summer get closer and closer to the ice. “See? I knew you’d see it my way. Don’t you want the pain to stop.”

“Y...Yes” Summer uttered, losing her grip on her mind. “I….just…...want to……” her will all but left. Not that it mattered. What good did her resolve do her anyways? Every attempt was a failure, a struggle for air that only made what she had left painful. In the end…. “Stop hurting.” Another step closer was taken with ease. Frigid air and Shiva were the only thing Summer could recognize. The world itself seemed to simply...disappear. Until...nausea, right in the pit of her stomach. It began to grow and feel like a hollow pit until, boom! The gap between herself and Shiva has increased greatly. She seemed to get smaller and smaller as Summer felt her soaring backwards until something hard crashed behind her, turning everything to darkness momentarily.

Weakly, Summer opened her eyes. The right side of her face felt cold to the bone and was obstructed by snow. “Wh...what is?” Summer looked in front her to see a white flower at eye level with her. “That...I was wearing that. I fell?” Her mind began to clear and body started to ache. A breeze blew the flower closer. It was only then she noticed the flower was stained red. It was only then… she remembered who gave her that flower. “Ver...onica?” A pair of legs walked into vision but not the pair she wanted to see. Summer looked up to see Shiva looking down at her.

“Yet again, a person is hurt because of you. But don’t fear. That’s your blood.” Shiva said, watching the red substance begin to run down the side of Summer’s face. She bent down and pointed to the lake. “Unfortunately, Veronica has an entirely different problem.”

Summer barely manages to turn her head enough to see the girl in question laying on the ice; the cracked ice. The gravity of the situation makes Summer go wide eyed. “Oh no…” she mutters. Her arm reaches for her blade to find that it is not on her hip. It had fallen off and several feet ahead of her. Summer began crawling but another wave of pain shot through her head, stalling her progress.

Shiva chuckled. “Hehe, oh this is quite the problem isn’t it? That stupid girl knocked you away somehow for your own good, but also managed to hurt herself. I’m not even sure if she’s conscious.”

“Ver...Veronica!” Summer yelled, “Hey! Answer me!” She could get no response and could barely notice the girl moving. Most likely wincing in pain. Summer knew that feeling in her stomach from early was familiar. Veronica must’ve phased her hand or something inside of her body and then sent her flying back by being tangible again. The blow must’ve been too much for Veronica and sent her flying as well. Summer didn’t know if Veronica had thought the plan through and got it wrong, or if she was grasping at straws to do anything. Either way, things weren’t looking too good.

The ice cracked and crumbled a bit more, spurring Summer to continue her crawling to the best of her ability. Every inch gain increased the pain yet again and made her want to vomit at this point. There was no way she could make it to Veronica, but with a blade there was a chance. Still….

“Veronica! Really need you to wake up right now!”

Shiva walked over to a nearby rock and sat down, watching Summer struggle in agony. “I don’t know what you think you do but I’m telling you it’s gonna fail at the rate you’re going. Even if that girl was awake, is she okay to walk? Let’s say she can. That ice is cracking mighty fast and we both know just how cold that water is. Don’t forget you’re a miracle, my little Summer. That girl though? I’d give her two minutes before dying of shock and hypothermia.”

Summer tried her best to ignore Shiva’s words. The vile girl could tell by the tears Summer tried to hold in that the words had made an impact. Shiva kept watching as Summer’s arms trembled and clawed at the ground to drag her body inch by inch. Strained breathing and grunts of pain never stopped and only got worse as Summer tried to move faster when the sound ice cracking got louder. The intrigued smile Shiva usually had was changed to a more neutral face.

“I could save her you know?” Shiva said, getting up. She walked leisurely alongside the wounded girl. “You’d heal in seconds and be able to refreeze the lake with a snap of a finger. You should have no problem tapping into my power. You did say you’ll stop me so you shouldn’t have to think twice about it. Unless...you’re just all talk? What do you say Summer, think you can gamble your life to save hers, or are you too scared to do anything that matters?”

It was a trap, plain in simple. Yet it made Summer falter nonetheless. There was no doubt in her mind Shiva wouldn’t consume her with ease. The chance of holding any kind of fight in this state would be essentially handing a victory over, but that didn’t change the fact that for a few seconds Summer would be able to save Veronica. The fear was what came after that. A fear Shiva must’ve been aware of, because she bent down to whisper in Summer’s ear.

Shiva said in a calm and deceptively caring voice, “I won’t hurt her” before stepping back with her hand stretched out again. Summer’s arms gave out and she laid in the snow, desperately trying to move. Her options were limited. Less than limited. They were gone.

“I’ll fight you…” a voice said.

It reached Summer and Shiva, shocking them both as they looked towards the lake. Without warning, Veronica started moving.

The girl slowly brought her arms in front of herself and began weakly pushing up to her stumbling feet. Pieces of her arms and her left cheek felt numb and burning red at the same time from frostbite. Her knees buckled briefly as she did her best to remain stationary so avoid disturbing the ice further. “I can’t hear her, and I can’t see her either. But...that rotten stench is oozing from you so much I can’t even lay down without feeling disgusted. I don’t know what’s she saying to you but Summer, I fucking swear….”

Veronica lifted her head and stared at Summer with intense catlike eyes and clenched, gritted fangs that bit back the pain. “If you do anything she says, I am going to give you that fight you wanted and beat both of your asses! Is that clear!?” Veronica extended her hand.

Shiva rolled her eyes. “Such nonsense. Just who the hell does she think she-”

“Fuck off…” Summer exhaled. Both of her arms raised up, then slammed to the ground. Mustering all she had, Summer pushed herself up. First to her knees and then to her feet, rising slowly while bearing the pain. “As if...I’d listen to someone like Shiva...about anything?” Summer extended her hand toward the lake with her right arm while the left one braced it with all the grip she had. A single glyph formed under Veronica’s feet at first. Then, another appeared in front of it. And then another, and another; until six total formed a bridge to actual land.

Veronica began to limp from glyph to the next slowly. Each step took more strength than the last until finally she was close enough to fling herself onto solid ground. Weak and injured, Veronica muttered, “See? That wasn’t so hard.” Blacking out right after.

The glyphs and ice came apart while Shiva could not process what she had just witnessed. Biting her nail, she looked back to Summer, who was staring at her with a cold glare that Shiva found deplorable. “Tsk, don’t look at me that. The only reason this is going this way is because that girl over there was capable of walking. Without that you’d still be suffering in silence!”

“You know there’s dignity in just cutting your losses right? Looks like the only failure today is you.” Summer scowled, “Now just go already. It’s over.”

Shiva raised an eyebrow. “Sure about that? Last time I checked, somebody spent an awful lot of time just now drowning in never feelings.” Shiva stepped aside and directed her attention to beady red eyes that were looming in the tree line.

Summer looked around to see only several sets of eyes. That was still far to me in her current state. She looked back at Veronica and kept her eyes on her. No grimm was around her, yet.

“Still think it’s over?” Shiva hummed.

Summer said nothing. Before she could act, a breeze went over her body that stung her wounds before all of her pain began to fade. Not only that, but Summer also felt just a little less tired as well. Confused, she looked back at Shiva and found no one there. Just herself and the grimm that lurked.

“You are so lucky I can’t have you mauled to death in a forest. Yet again you’re only gonna live through this because of me. Count your blessings.”

Summer dove towards her blade and tumbled into a sprint towards Veronica, going as far to slide into a crouch in front of the girl. Summer put a glyph under them and raised it to the sky, watching the beowulves make their approach. Though physically healed, Summer’s body felt so fatigued and riddled with aches that it made the idea of fighting daunting to say the least. Oh well though. Not much choice at this point. Right now it was more than her life at stake. She looked back at the sight of Veronica’s injuries and gritted her teeth. If those injuries left scares…

“Fuck it.” Summer jumped off and dove down right on top of a grimm with her sword right through its neck, freezing it from the inside with ice dust. “I’m so sick and tired of this. All these mistakes, and for what!?” She snarled. The grimm shattered. Summer landed on her feet with frustration in her eyes and grief in her heart. Her hands were thrown up in the air as she yelled at the grimm. “Well!? Come and get it! I got your despair right here!”

The howl of her sorrow met ravenous hunger of theirs, making them attack. Without a witness in sight to observe this fight, it would be hard to even say one happened. For even though her wails rang loudly, Summer began to sound more monstrous and human.

xxxx

It is often said things happen for a reason. For better or for worse, the invisible threads that tie people together tighten and unravel at the whims of fate. Veronica was never one to put much thought in such things. But if she were to, then it would appear fate had decided that the cold forest was no place to unravel.

Groaning in pain, her eyes began to open to a world of light. “Mmmgh, where…?” Her vision adjusted. No longer was in the woods. Veronica was in bed, the guest bed in the manner; in her black nightgown no less. She looked to her left to find an IV drip by her bedside, hooked to her arm. Next to it was a platter of sandwiches that smelled like every barn animal imaginable. Veronica’s stomach was quick to growl. Reaching for one made her wince in pain. It was only then she realized her body had multiple bandages wrapped it and gauze on her left cheek.

“Oh yeah. I got thrashed.” She sighed. Veronica tried moving her right hand but found it weighed down. She finally looked right and gasped. Her senses must’ve been out of whack, because she somehow managed to ignore a sleeping Nick at her bedside who held her hand, tightly. “N-Nick!?”

Her shout stirred him awake. “Huh?” He rubbed his eyes. “Hey….oh? Oh!? Hey, you’re awake! Do you know how worried I was!?” He sat on her bed. “What happened out there?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Last time I checked I was quite literally on thin ice. The pun was given no positive recognition. “What? I quip a little when I’m out of it. You know this.”

“Yeah. That one one was just….anyways, I think it might be better if you went first. Actually, do you remember anything to begin with? Penny didn’t say anything about brain damage when she patched you up but it’s like we saw you get hurt.”

Veronica rubbed the back of her neck. So Penny was the one to tend to her wounds. Made sense. If it had been Nick, Veronica may have died from embarrassment. Emergency or not, having him change her would be too much to handle.

“Veronica? You still with me”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.” She smiled, “My mind wandered, but yeah. I remember.” She propped a pillow up and leaned back against the headboard. “I had taken Summer to the woods to have her fight some grimm and work on her outfit. I thought seeing her fight up close and learning about Shiva would help make the perfect outfit for the tournament. I recently became aware of just how real she is.”

“You didn’t...force her to come out did you?” Nick asked, concerned. It was comforting when Veronica looked at him like he was insane. “So that’s a no?”

“Of course it’s a no! I just got the worst luck imaginable and found what apparently is ground zero for Diamond Dust. So that lake is the spot huh?”

Nick folded his arms and frowned. “Yeah, that’s the spot. I’ve been there a few times after the fact, but Summer never has. Well, until today.”

“Figured. She- hey? Where is she?”

“Resting by now. Don’t worry, she’s safe.”

“Wouldn’t say I was worried. Not with twisted power like that.” She muttered. Veronica continued her story. “Anyways, I guess the shock or something was too much for her to deal with. Summer completely ignored my calls to her and started walking to the lake like a zombie. Ice and cold air blew around her so crisp it cut skin. Getting her attention verbally wasn’t working and I wasn’t about to see what happened if she stood on the glowing mass of dust and ice; so I punched her.”

“You…” Nick tilted his head. “Punched her? And it worked?”

“Well, it wasn’t a normal punch. All that wind and ice made it physically hurt to get close. I touched her once and it messed up my right hand.” Veronica started flexing it. It hurt but it didn’t seem permanently damaged. “I used my semblance the second time so all that wind around her went right through me. I put my fist in her stomach and then boom, shockwave. I wasn’t really thinking much about it, as you can see.” She gestured to herself, “I’m not messed up with dust or anything now, right?”

Nick smiled, “That’s not how that works. As in the dark we are about Diamond Dust, we know it’s not as easy as touching it. Penny said you’ll make a full recovery. No long term damage, and no scars.”

Veronica let out a sigh of relief. “Well I guess I can live with today then. I’ll be honest, I was terrified you might tell me my fingers would never be the same or they had to be cut off.” She laughed about it, but in order to push that fear down. Her dreams and love for creating clothes wasn’t harmed. “After I hit her I got knocked down by the blast and landed on the ice. After that...it’s pretty hazy. I know I managed to get off the ice because of Summer’s glyphs, but that’s it.”

“I see. That matches up then.”

“What does? Summer already said her piece?” Veronica raised a brow.

Nick gave her a nod. Veronica couldn’t help but feel a little bad. “I guess we’re leaving out the part about the fight and having Diamond Dust to begin with. Not that it matters too much. I doubt already having it made this situation happen, but it may have made it harder for Summer to snap out of whatever trance she was in.” Veronica thought.

Nick noticed the silence again and hit worried. He looked at the IV drip briefly before feeling his hands start to tremble anxiously. He managed to take his eyes off of it and looked back to what mattered. “You sure you’re okay? I figured you’d be hungry but you haven’t touched a single sandwich. That and Penny said you were understandably a bit dehydrated.”

“Don’t worry, You’re the one who said I’ll make a complete recovery. I’m only not stuffing my face right now because I don’t wanna look like an ugly animal starved of a meal in front of-” he turned around to face away from her. “.....”

“We did this last time, remember? Now you can eat and I can tell you what happened next.”

Reluctantly, Veronica’s eyes shifted between the platter and Nick. Yeah they did this before but it was still a bit embarrassing. “I swear if you turn around Nick... I’ll be very upset” Yeah, that sounded better in her head.

“I won’t.” He chuckled, “Eat up. As for your question earlier, I knew something was up with Summer because I could feel it.”

“Oh yeah, she did mention something about you having this uncanny twin thing to know when Shiva takes over.”

“Yeah it would be cool if I didn’t fear the worse every single time it happens. Mom, auntie, and I all immediately pinged the location and off we went. Dad came too. By the time we found you both, you were unconscious on a glyph and Summer was cornered by grimm. She must’ve put up a fight considering several were dead already but I’d to think about how long she would have kept them at bay. Summer passed out the moment she saw us. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her up most likely. Dad healed what he could before we got you both back here where Penny did the real medical work.”

“You must’ve been so worried.” Veronica said, solemnly. “Guess the blame should fall on me this time.”

“I’m not interested in the blame game. I’m just glad we’re past this. You done eating? Kinda wanna flop on the bed.”

“Hehe, go for it.”

Nick leaned back and went limp on the bed. He looked up to see Veronica smiling at him with a thumbs up. He returned the gesture. “I need a break from everything.”

“Whaaaat? Nicholas Schnee wants a break?” She sarcastically gasped, “maybe you’re the one who needs bed rest? Still sick?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m feeling fine. Auntie might’ve beaten the sickness out of me. She’s actually pleased with you for once by the way. Summer expressed just how much you bailed her out of danger.”

Veronica sunk into her pillow. “Like I cared about either of their opinions. Especially your stick in the mud aunt. She’ll still shoot me icy looks.”

“Can’t you take a win? Why are you so negative about everything.” He pinched her leg.

“Ow! I’m injured here!? Also I’m not negativ, I’m just telling the truth. Despite the genes, Xiao Long optimism isn’t-...hey, where is ma? If anybody was gonna be at my bedside I would’ve bet money on her?”

Nick sat up. “Well you know, she freaked out after seeing you for a second and stayed a long time. But then she had to leave to-” A click of the door cut Nicholas off before he could finish. Yang and Blake came in anxiously.

Yang spoke first.“Hey Nick, how’s Ver-” her eyes locked with her daughter’s. The teenager blinked rapidly in confusion. Yang however, she started tearing up and lunged at her with open arms; Blake only seconds behind. “You’re awake!!!”

“Veronica!” Blake said estactically. The two mothers carefully wrapped their arms around their daughter and showered her with love.

“Pick your mom up.” Nick finally finished. “Yang went to pick your mom up.”

“Gah! Yeah, I can see that!” Veronica wheezed, pushing them off to breathe. A little space please!? It’s hard enough to breathe as is! Mom, why are you here so early!?”

“I got a call saying you were hurt! Why wouldn’t I come early!?” Blake said firmly.

“That’s not- I meant how!? Did you just drop everything and hop on some super speed air Shai don’t know about? Menagerie isn’t a pleasure flight away.” They both finally got off of her. Veronica watched her parents look at her as if she said something weird. “What?” She said, raising a brow.

Nick caught her attention with an awkward laugh. “Hehe, so uhhh, one other thing. It’s not Saturday anymore. It’s Sunday afternoon. You uh...been unconscious for around thirty hours.”

“.......” Veronica looked around for a scroll until

Blake handed hers over. That forest incident had to have happened at around 11:00 am since her and Summer left early, so the fact that the time was 3:00 pm and was more than a little suspicious. Veronica sat in silence for a moment, processing. Then...she dropped the scroll. “I lost a day of progress….”

“That’s what you’re worried about!?” Her audience yelled.

“Yes! Nick, you are the last person I wanna hear say that!” She pointed. “This is a mess! How long was Summer asleep!?”

Nick scrunched his face. “Three hours.” He said, slightly whispering. “She heals real fast.”

“Well good for her!” Veronica shouted sarcastically, ignoring the fact that doing that really hurt. “I hope she’s well rested, because we have shit to do.” Veronica tried getting out of bed. A pain in her left side made her wince and putting weight on her right leg made it buckle the moment it reached the floor.

Blake quickly braced her daughter with her hand on Veronica’s stomach to stop the girl from falling forward. “You need rest. Don’t move.”

“Mom, we both know I will try to move anyway. So instead of being a brace, can you be a crutch instead and get me to the door?” Veronica asked needlingly. She had no will to argue. Her eyes got all big to sweeten the offer. Blake let out a sigh then got under Veronica’s arm to support her. Veronica smiled, “Thanks.”

“Mmmhmm.” Blake grumbled, annoyed over the fact she bought into puppy eyes. “Yang, get the door please?”

Yang did just that and looked into the hall. “Uhh fair warning, Summer hasn’t been taking visitors since yesterday and that hasn’t changed it looks like.” She stepped out of the way for them to see Jaune knocking on the door. “This isn’t his first time trying to get her out of the room.”

Nick let out a sigh. “Leave it to dad to keep trying. Summer has been down ever since we found her. More than usual. Maybe give her some space?”

“I recognize your suggestion, but….” Veronica continued out her room with Blake’s house. There was no reason to act any different now from how she always treated Summer. “I’m going anyways.”

“Ver- ugh, at least choose your words carefully please?” Nick conceded. He also was way too drained to argue with anyone. Yang patted his back and followed the two faunus. Might as well see how this turns out.

Thump thump thump, the low sound of Jaune’s knuckle hitting the solid wood door hit rhythmically. “Summer, please talk to me? You didn't have dinner last night or breakfast today. You have to come out eventually.”

“Just go away…” she said, devoid of energy. “I’ll eat later. I just wanna be alone right now, please?”

Jaune pressed his head against the door. Hearing her like this was rough. Forcing Summer to come out wouldn’t help, and telling her how worried people are would only make her feel bad. He knew his daughter though. Summer wasn’t just gonna come out on her own if she didn’t have to. The sound of footsteps brought Jaune’s attention to his approaching friends and family. He moved from the door and gave Blake a side hug. “Not how I wanted to greet you when you visited but I’m glad the trip was okay.”

“Good to see you too, and yeah. I wish it wasn’t because of an emergency. Where’s Weiss?”

“She’s with her sister and Ruby inspecting the lake. They should be back before long.” He looked at Veronica. “How are you feeling?”

Her ears fell down and she avoided his gaze. “Uhhh I’ll manage just fine. Th..thanks for helping treat my injuries when you did. I probably would be worse off if you didn’t.” Veronica said, awkwardly. When it came to Jaune, she could never find herself to act normal. Being calm was always top priority around him. If Jaune Arc doesn’t like you, then clearly you’re a bad individual. Same rule applied for Ruby. Veronica couldn’t explain why their opinion weighed a bit more than others. They just did. “Summer awake?”

“Yeah but-” Veronica knocked on the door before Jaune could finish.

“Hey, Princess.” Summer pressed her head against the door. “I have no idea why you’ve been shacked up in your room since yesterday and frankly I don’t really care.”

Blake frowned. “Ver-”

“What I do know is there’s no way you’re guilt tripping yourself over me, because that would be crazy. Not like you would have expected anything like yesterday to happen, so an apology would be stupid. Just as stupid as if I felt bad unintentionally taking you there in the first place.” Veronica sighed, “Shit happens. Far as I’m concerned...we’re even. The only thing you should feel bad about in regards to me is if you aren't wide eyed and attentive Tuesday evening to try your outfit on. Are we clear?”

They all waited for a response, but none came. Veronica groaned. “Ugggh, I said...are we-”

“Okay! Fine…I hear you.” Summer grunted, more energized than before.

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t respond. You better see me with a better attitude. Also stick that schedule I gave you. Eating and school wise. Having a pity party doesn’t excuse you from it.” Veronica nagged. She had said what she wanted to. No reason to stick around further. Veronica smiled at Jaune. “Well, at least you know she’ll at least be out for school tomorrow now.”

“I guess that’s one way to handle things.” Jaune wasn’t sure if Veronica was simply irritated by Summer, or if that’s her definition of tough love. The look on Blake and Yang didn’t help either. They were just as confused. “Do you really think you can make an outfit in two days in your condition?”

“I was about to ask the same thing.” Nick said, concerned. Yang rubbed his head and laughed however. “Wait, she can!?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve seen her make an entire collection in three weeks before. It was impressive. Concerning, but impressive.”

“I wouldn’t brag about that. All of them were terrible.” Veronica admitted. “I was crazy to try that, but this is different. I came here with your clothes for you both, remember? I’m not working from scratch with Summer’s. All I need is the finest materials Remnant has to offer in terms of dust and sewing machinery. I’m sure the Schnee family wouldn’t mind giving me access to such things?”

Nick rubbed his chin dramatically. “Hmmm I think we can find it in the budget.” He laughed, pulling his scroll out to make a note of it. “You’ll have it by tomorrow.”

“Then we’re officially back on track then. I could start prep now.” Veronica hummed, until Blake flicked her nose. “Ow!”

“You are getting rest right now and can start tomorrow. This isn’t a negotiation, it’s a command.” Blake said sternly. “Haste makes waste.”

Darn! She was right and Veronica knew it. Resting did sound good though. There was no hiding how fatigued her body was. “Fine, you win. Back to the fluffy bed I go.”

“Nick can you take her back? Yang and I still have unpacking to do. As well as formally announcing we are here in Atlas before the world starts panicking. I miss being like a ninja in the shadows.” Blake sighed.

Nick took her spot under Veronica and walked her back into her room. Blake looked at Jaune warmly and patted his back as the three friends began walking. “Still worried about Summer?”

“All three really. They all felt shaken up in their own way. Nick seemed pretty passive.”

Blake nodded “Veronica too. I think they’re stressed out in a variety of ways. Has she been eating properly.”

“As much as I can get her to.” Yang grumbled. “Nick has been a big help with that. Most of the credit is his. Before all of this, Veronica did ask to spar out of the blue and took my gauntlets. I figured she was still upset from the fight at school but maybe it was because she planned on going into the woods too? Not sure how much Nick or Summer told her about Shiva, but I guess that doesn’t matter now.”

“It could.” Jaune spoke, clicking his tongue. “She may have wanted to be prepared for anything. Wasn’t enough though. Anyways, I think a couple days of rest might do Nick and Vee well. Summer though, it could go either way.”

“Parent life, remember when things were simple?” Yang said.Jaune and Blake looked at her, confused. Thinking about it, they had a right to be. “Yeah you’re right, it’s never been simple. Never felt this complicated either though.”

“I think I know what you mean.” Jaune said cautiously. This anxious, looming thought in the back of his mind made his heart race. “We’re missing something important. Not just about Shiva, but our families in general. I don’t know what it is, but…I feel like we can’t afford to miss it.”

A mournful expression reached his friend’s faces. He was right. Despite their best efforts, loving their kids wasn’t enough; being there for them apparently wasn’t enough either. Deep down they all knew the lives they built had begun to crack somewhere in the very foundation of it all. If nothing is changed then it’ll all come crashing down. Like a house in an avalanche.

Alone, Summer hugged her knees tightly and stared vacantly into the mirror; wondering when she’d finally be able to recognize it.

#rwby #rwby au #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #jaune arc #veronica belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby twin snowflakes #blake belladonna #bmblb

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7/ part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 belongs to this

content warning: metion of past character death, a grave

(Still not the final chapter)

His stomach twisted into knots and a lump sat heavy and thick in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

He didn’t want to do this. He had avoided it for months now, as much as he could. The loud laughter and clapping coming from the tavern almost made him flee as he had done embarrassingly often before.

One look at Roach made him reconsider. Her head hung low and her fur was matted with dust from the road. She deserved some rest in a nice stable.

As much as Geralt didn’t want to admit it, he needed the rest just as much.

The dread turned into an ache as the cheering from inside died down and the bard stroke up a new song. The only consolation he had was that the singing wasn’t accompanied by a lute.

The notes that drifted to him as he put Roach in the stable, whispering in her ear that he would be back in a moment to take her bags off once he had secured her place here, had a strange quality to them.

With a pounding heart and tense shoulders, he pushed the door open, his eyes scanning the crowed room in an attempt to find someone who could tell him the cost for a box in the stables.

Instead, his eyes found the bard as if they were drawn to them.

He froze and his breath got stuck in his throat.

Someone shoved him from behind to close the door, but Geralt didn’t care. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who had been Jaskier’s student not so long ago.

Sera.

As suddenly as his body had stopped moving, he was overcome with the urge to move, to leave.

This was the first familiar face he had caught sight of since he had left the coast.

It was suffocating and filling his mouth with the taste of bile.

He should never have come here. There was a reason why he avoided taverns and bards.

Still… it had been so long since Geralt had been surrounded by music that didn’t stem from his own pathetic attempts at playing, and it wasn’t the painful sound of a lute being strummed.

A powerful yearning took hold of his heart, rooting his feet to the spot and making it impossible to flee.

Maybe…. maybe there would be no harm in staying, only for a bit to ease the bruising grip the music had on his heart. There was no need to speak with Sera. It had been a long time since she had last seen him. The chances of her recognising him - grimy and unkempt as he was - were slim and even if she did, there was no reason for her to approach him.

He could just stand here, hidden in the shadows in the corner of the pub room and listen for a bit.

Only one song.

One song turned into another.

With each note Sera teased out of the heavy looking instrument Geralt could understand a bit better what Jaskier had meant when he had said she was better than him. The idea was still outrageous, of course, and perhaps it had just been too long since Geralt had heard any music to compare it too, but Sera was good. Great, even. She was charming the audience with easy smiles and winks that rivalled Jaskier’s.

Though the invisible hand choking him had eased its grip on his throat as the songs progressed, it came back in full force as she took a bow in the same sweeping manner as Jaskier had always done.

It was too much. Geralt couldn’t stand to watch any longer. He had to escape the acidic guilt of enjoying another’s performance when it had taken him so long to show any appreciation for Jaskier’s music.

He stormed out of the tavern, uncaring of the patrons he shoved to the side.

Blindly, he stumbled into the stables, where Roach’s ears pricked up at the noise he made.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and opened her box. “We have to go a little bit further. I promise I’ll find a nice stable for you.”

“Isn’t this one nice enough?”

Geralt didn’t flinch at the amused voice behind him, but it came damn close. What a pitiful excuse for a witcher he was, if a simple song sufficed to get him so distracted.

His shoulders slumped and he turned around, facing the bard who was leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a cocked eyebrow.

“Thought you could leave without giving me a review?” She pushed away from the wall and came closer, a teasing smile on her lips that was so unfitting to how Geralt felt that he almost drew back. “Or maybe my singing was so bad that you left because of it? The most scathing review of all.” She left a pause and huffed when Geralt didn’t seize the opportunity to correct her. “Jaskier wasn’t lying when he said you had no appreciation for a good performance.”

Knowing that the words were untrue didn’t sooth the ache in Geralt’s chest. There had been a time when Jaskier truly had believed Geralt to be unimpressed by the music he offered him. He couldn’t allow the thought that maybe he had never given up the belief, to fester.

The thought alone was enough to take away all ability to speak.

“Don’t think you could escape unnoticed,” Sera said, still so lightly, so carefree. She had no way of knowing what had happened. If only Geralt was so lucky. “I have to tell you even if the white hair and the swords weren’t a dead give-away of who you were, the dramatic exit would have been enough to draw anyone’s attention. And you know how much we bards love drama.” Her expression grew a tad annoyed and if Geralt’s mind wasn’t screaming at him to leave and never turn back, he might have been impressed at how patient she was to the unresponsive man who was little less than an old acquaintance. After a brief pause filled with awkwardness that even the most confident person couldn’t ignore, she was openly grasping at straws. “You are still doing with witcher business then?”

Geralt’s fingers twitched. “Not still. Again.”

Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Why did you go back to hunting?” Geralt flinched. There hadn’t even been a moment of confusion as to what might have made him give it up in the first place. He prayed she figured out what him hunting again meant as well. It would hurt to see the realisation flash over her face but anything was bearable, as long as he didn’t have to say it. “Talkative as ever. Care to come back inside for a talk with an old friend? It’s been forever since I last heard from home. How’s Jaskier?”

This time, Geralt was unable to repress the finch. Even in the dim light of the stable, it couldn’t have escaped Sera’s notice.

Her eyebrows drew together and she made a step forward as if to steady him, when her eyes fell on Roach and the bags she was still carrying.

“Oh.” The sound was soft, almost apologetic. Geralt didn’t have to look to know her eyes were locked onto the lute Geralt had been too weak to leave behind. There was no mistaking as to the reason why he had it with him. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

For some inexplicable reason the voice telling him to go quieted down. Everything did. His pounding heart, his staggered breath, the nervous scrape of Roach’s hooves. The words spoken so plainly, saying so directly what no one else had dared to say the way it was shifted something in Geralt.

His shoulder’s sagged, as if a weight he had been carrying with him had finally been taking off. No, not taken off, but shared.

Geralt nodded brusquely, before repeating the words that should burn his tongue but for some inexplicable reason soothed his heart. “He is dead.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. It was almost ironic, a bard not finding the right words. Or maybe it was her knowing when to be quiet.

After what felt like an eternity, she spoke up again. “I think he would have liked that you carry the lute with you.”

Geralt grunted. “He would have mercilessly mocked me for it.”

“Of course he would have,” Sera said with a half-smile. “And then he would have sighed over how romantic it is that you keep it around.”

“It’s not romantic. It’s-“ Geralt cut himself of. He didn’t know what it was. His tongue wanted to say ‘pathetic’. A word he had used more and more often lately to describe himself, but something about the way Sera looked at the lute, so similar to how Jaskier had done it, made the words taste like ash on his tongue. “I just didn’t want it to rot somewhere. I’m just taking it with me until I find better use for it.”

His heart skipped a beat and his eyes widened unnoticeably for a human. He cleared his throat, but couldn’t get rid of the rapidly forming lump that made his voice raspy when he choked out, “Do you want to have it?” Say no. Please say no. “I think…out of anyone, he would have wanted you to have it.” And in contrast to Geralt, she would actually know how to play more than one song so simple and pitiful that it was a shame to force such an instrument to sing it.

Something strange happened with Sera’s face. “I think it’s right where Jaskier would have wanted it.” Her tone was flat, but something sincere and soft resonated in it. “I was never allowed to even hold his lute, always practicing with my old one. And he was right about the lute not really being the instrument for me anyway.” Her smile became full. “I am far more happy with my hurdy-gurdy.”

A heavy sigh of relief rumbled through Geralt’s chest. He didn’t care that Sera saw. If she judged him for his reaction, she didn’t show it.

Instead she cocked her head to the side. “Speaking of which, I’ll have to get back on stage soon. Come back with me. If only until my break is over.” Her eyes narrowed and roamed about his face. Geralt felt strangely self-conscious under her scrutiny. “Have you eaten yet?”

Geralt shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

The calculating look didn’t leave her eyes, but without waiting for Geralt to take the chance to leave, she stepped past him and started to unload Roach. “Well, I am. And I would really appreciate the company.”

Entering the tavern for the second time, this time without the tension but instead with a smiling bard guiding him to a table in a corner, the room seemed more welcoming somehow. Less suffocating and constricting.

Sera gave the barmaid a disarming smile, when she brought her some stew and complimented her on her singing.

Geralt shifted in his seat. “It all worked out for you then? With Oxenfurt and seeing the world?”

A wistful expression flashed across Sera’s face before it was replaced by a small quirk of her lips. “It did. It’s not quite what I expected, but it’s wonderful.” There was the barest hint of hesitation, before she added, “I couldn’t have done it without Jaskier.”

A smile tugged at Geralt’s lips. “You seem to be doing fine on your own.”

Sera seized him up in contemplation and Geralt couldn’t shake the feeling that she chewed longer than necessary on the chunks in the stew to give herself some time to figure out what to say next.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not nice to have support.” With a nod at Geralt she added, “Or to meet a friendly face every once in a while.”

Geralt snorted at that, but he couldn’t hope to mask the sting Sera’s words sent through his heart. As much as he wished it weren’t so, he couldn’t deny that there was truth in her words. Geralt didn’t want company. He didn’t need it. Clearly, he was better off on his own.

But there was no denying that this was the first time since he had been with Jaskier that he sat in a tavern like normal people did, no rush to find the next contract, no anxiety spiking up about hearing music.

Though he did his best to hide his thoughts behind an impassive mask, some of it must have slipped through, for Sera put the spoon down and leaned forward, taking in the details of Geralt’s face.

“What about you? How are you doing on your own?” She didn’t let Geralt’s non-comital grunt deter her. “Looks like you had some rough hunts.”

She didn’t even try to conceal the way her eyes raked over his torn and dirty clothes and lingered on the new scars adorning his face, some of which were still fresh and burning pink.

Geralt felt strangely exposed and vulnerable under her gaze.

“Witchers have a rough life.” It sounded more defensive than he had aimed for. Geralt resented the hint of bitterness and remorse that hopefully slipped Sera’s notice.

She looked at him a little longer, before leaning back with a sigh. Almost dismissively, she pushed the still half-full bowl of stew towards him.

When Geralt raised an eyebrow, she cracked a smile. “I’m already full and it would be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

Geralt glowered at her. He would be an idiot not to see what she was doing. Still, when fake-innocent eyes looked back at him, he relented and picked up the spoon.

He wished he could say the stew wasn’t doing wonders. He wished it wasn’t filling and warm and delicious with spices that Geralt hadn’t used when roasting his own meals over a fire somewhere in the woods.

A smug smile danced across Sera’s lips, but it softened before Geralt had the chance to feel stupid because of it.

When Sera didn’t comment on Geralt wolfing down the meal, Geralt was overcome with the burning need to fill the silence.

“It’s nice to be with a bard who doesn’t try to steal my food for a change.” As soon as the flat joke left his mouth, he tensed up, the all too familiar guilt digging its ugly claws into his chest.

He shouldn’t joke. Least of all about Jaskier. It was disrespectful and wrong to laugh about him, even if Jaskier had made many a joke on Geralt’s expanse. Even if Jaskier would have gasped in mock outrage only to prove Geralt’s point by stealing more of whatever Geralt was eating.

Still, when Sera let out an undignified snort, the guilt receded the tiniest bit to make place for an unexpected warmth.

Geralt could do nothing to stop it. Talking about Jaskier like this felt good, better than it had any right to. It wasn’t a grand speech about Jaskier’s big accomplishments or a solemn reminiscence of some defining moments of his life. Remembering the way he used to steal Geralt’s food was something small, barely worth mentioning. Yet it was something so fundamentally Jaskier that Geralt yearned for more.

But it was wrong. He had no right to smile and waste time sitting in a tavern.

Geralt hadn’t noticed the way he tensed up, his grip on the spoon turning his knuckles white, until Sera laid her hand on the table next to his, not touching him, but close enough that there was no way for Geralt not to notice her presence.

“It’s alright to miss him, you know,” she said in a tone that was painfully gentle. “You are allowed to feel things.”

A huff escaped Geralt. “Heard that one before.”

Sera lifted an eyebrow and the corner of her lips turned up. “Are you accusing me of unoriginality?”

Her tone was so full of mock indignation that Geralt couldn’t stop his own smirk. “I would never. I’m just saying that you are the not the first person to tell me that.”

“Am I the first person you are going to listen to?”

Geralt’s heart missed a beat, but his smile didn’t drop. The reply that he was good on his own lay on his tongue. He just had to say it. It would be so easy. He had said it before, whispered it to himself time and time again when the road got too long and the nights too quiet.

The words didn’t come; they were supplanted by a voice inside him – quiet at first, then insistent and growing louder with every passing second that he didn’t deny Sera’s words – telling him to listen to her, to Eskel and Kris and anyone else who had told him that there was nothing wrong with what he needed. Above all else, it told him to listen to Jaskier.

Slowly and with what felt like inhuman strength, Geralt nodded.

Immediately, shame rose in him. He knew it was irrational, it must be when so many people had told him it was alright to admit to needing them, but after spending so much time with the freedom of only relying on himself, it felt restricting.

He lowered his eyes to the stew before he could see Sera’s face transform into a relieved and proud smile, no doubt.

She let him be for a while, only speaking up when Geralt got too tense, getting lost in his darkening thoughts, to reminisce of something Jaskier had once said or the way his descriptions of life as a travelling bard had helped her find her footing.

It was soothing. Often Geralt wouldn’t know how to respond, only answering with hums and the occasional nod, but Sera seemed content to let her own voice become calming background noise.

It was nice to have someone talking to him for a reason other than giving him a contract.

After another stretch of silence, Sera spoke up again.

“Have you visited his grave since you left?”

There was no judgement in her tone, no hidden accusation, but Geralt still flinched.

He couldn’t bring himself to say the shameful truth out loud or even shake his head. His silence was answer enough.

Sera didn’t press, didn’t tell him what he already knew himself.

Instead Sera sighed. “I miss the sea sometimes.” Her eyes snapped to Geralt. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret leaving. Life as a bard is wonderful, but sometimes I just think it would be nice to go home again. Only for a little while.”

Geralt cleared his throat and before he could think better of it, he reached into the saddlebags that had been standing beneath the table and dug in deep, searching for what he had buried with no intent of digging it back up any time soon.

His jaw worked as he held the sea shell out to Sera.

“It’s… you hold it to your ear.” The words were clumsy and awkward and nothing like the loving instruction Jaskier had given him when he had presented the shell to Geralt.

It did nothing to dim the smile on Sera’s face as she listened to the sounds of her home with closed eyes. There was something about the way her expression softened. Perhaps she finally understood what she hadn’t when she had written her first song.

She must be thinking the same thing, for when she put the shell down, she exchanged it for her hurdy-gurdy and played a few notes of a vaguely familiar song about home.

“Jaskier would have loved to hear you play that song. On that instrument,” Geralt said, the hints of a smile dusting over his lips.

“Maybe I should go home again. Play my song for him.” Sera looked up as her hands stilled, letting a note that so clearly demanded to be followed by others ring through the air. “If I remember correctly, Jaskier once told me to get myself a witcher? We could travel together to the coast, if you wanted to?”

Geralt’s mouth went dry and something stirred in him. The note begging for the song to be continued echoed in his mind.

When Geralt took too long to answer, Sera stood up and gripped her hurdy-gurdy tighter.

“Listen, Geralt, I’ll have to continue with my set. I promised the barmaid that I would sing a ballad for her after my break. How about you think about it and tell me your decision when I come back.”

Geralt’s eyes followed her as she took up her place at the centre of the tavern again and slipped into the light-hearted persona of a performer.

Her offer repeated in his mind over and over. She had left it up to him. Had asked if Geralt wanted to.

He didn’t.

But his mind drifted to Eskel’s offer of travelling together. He thought of how Kris had told him that he didn’t have to be alone when he had knocked on their door in the middle of a storm and drenched to the bones.

He thought of a different bard seeing him all on his own and deciding that he needed a friend.

A hurdy-gurdy was no lute. Its music had none of the light playfulness or solemn clearness of a plucked lute. It was heavier and could not easily be played while walking.

But the soft humming next to him, when Geralt and Sera started their journey back to the coast – back home – brought a smile to Geralt’s face, not big enough for Sera to recognise it as such, but sincere enough for Geralt to know that he had made the right decision.

Travelling with the bard was different than being on his own.

She told him to take breaks far more often than he would have if it were just him. She refused to sleep outdoors more than necessary and always made him order a decent meal when they took a break at a tavern, allegedly because she was uncomfortable being the only one eating.

Geralt might be stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. He saw what was going on.

Unwittingly – or more likely with full intention – Sera got him to take care of himself.

Though Geralt grumbled when the breaks they took or the nice beds made him restless and filled him with guilt, he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

Geralt had never heard the song in its entirety. Of course, Geralt knew that it would be good. After all, it had secured Sera a place in the Academy of Oxenfurt.

But as he was listening to Sera sing it now, Geralt couldn’t shake the feeling that no one had ever truly heard the song, not the way it was meant to be played.

As the hurdy-gurdy wept and Sera sang of a lonely old lighthouse that would shine brighter when a traveller came by and shared a piece of the world with it, the waves that sounded like home provided the harmony.

As the melody dimmed and spoke of the traveller leaving again to face the storm-tossed sea and stony roads, a witcher stood next to her, roughened up from months on the road.

And as her voice soared as the lighthouse’s shine reached even the darkest path despite the distance, keeping the traveller company until its light would beckon him home once more, a breeze ruffled the flowers on a grave, colourful and wild and straining towards the sun.

There was no doubt, no one had ever heard the song quite like Geralt did in this moment. Though the metaphors and intricacies of the melody were lost on him, Geralt felt something in him shift as he listened, his eyes fixed on the place where Jaskier lay buried and that looked far too bright to be a place for loss.

When the last note of the song faded away, it took Geralt a while to find his voice.

“He would be proud of you.”

“As he would be of you.”

Geralt’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t do anything worth being proud of.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” When Geralt didn’t reply, Sera gave him a long look, before she finally said, “Remember what he told me about never selling myself short? Just because he isn’t here to tell you that he is proud of you doesn’t mean you are any less worthy of his or your own pride.”

Never forget I love you. How often had Jaskier said it? How close Geralt had come to forgetting.

A lump formed in his throat, making it hard to breathe. His chest grew tight and a something sharp stung in the corners of Geralt’s eyes.

He turned his face away from Sera, as the first tear fell. No human should have to see a witcher cry. No witcher should know how to do it in the first place.

Geralt hadn’t known. For months, he hadn’t known how to let go of the emotions that had built up inside of him and that he had tried to hold back, building the dam higher and higher with each contract he took to lessen the hurt.

Now he learned it again.

His shoulders didn’t shake, no audible sob left his mouth and his legs didn’t crumble beneath him.

And yet he cried, as he hadn’t been able to in a long time.

He barely registered how Sera told him that she would head over to her parents’ place and left him to his tears.

He was alone again, but this time it was different. This time, he allowed himself to let the tears fall freely, the feelings he had tried so hard to repress flooding him alongside memories of smiles and gentle touches and wrinkles and youthful ambitions.

He didn’t speak to Jaskier’s grave, not in the way he had heard of other people do. Nothing he could say would be something that Jaskier would have liked to hear.

Geralt hadn’t looked at the sunrises or taken note of the wildflowers’ colours.

Instead of the guilt that he half-expected a determination took hold of him. He would do better, be better. Next time, he would come back with stories that would have lit up Jaskier’s eyes and made him reach for his quill.

For now, there was only one thing he could say to Jaskier that would have made him smile.

A call was all that was needed to get Roach to lift her head in curiosity and trod over to him.

A smile flickered over Geralt’s lips as he reached up to pat her on the neck.

“This is Roach,” he said softly. “She likes music and getting scratched behind the ears.”

There was nothing more to say, but Geralt thought it would have been more than enough to make Jaskier coo over Roach.

The image of Jaskier’s brilliant smiles whenever he managed to win over one of Geralt’s horses made a warm fuzzy feeling grow in his chest. Without thinking much about it, Geralt reached out to brush his fingers over the petals of a bright blue flower.

With a soft snort, Roach leaned past Geralt and bit the flower off.

Geralt shouldn’t have laughed. He should have gotten mad and made sure Roach stayed well away from the grave, but he didn’t try to quench the laugh that welled up in his throat.

Too close were the similarities to the time when Jaskier had offered a different Roach flowers to be braided into her hair only for her to eat them straight out of his hand.

Jaskier had laughed then and Geralt had the feeling that he would do the same now.

Oh, he would definitely have loved this Roach.

Still, when Roach took Geralt’s lack of reprimanding as invitation to eat more of the flowers, Geralt gently pushed her away.

As much as Geralt was sure Jaskier wouldn’t have minded her feasting on the flowers, the garden had been his pride and joy and Geralt couldn’t watch it get ruined before its time once again.

Especially when not only the grave but the whole garden was in bloom. In fact, it looked as if someone had taken good care of it, as some of the plants were cut back as if to help them grow.

The frown that creased Geralt’s forehead smoothed into a tiny smile.

He wandered somewhat aimlessly through the village. The strange and vaguely unpleasant feeling he got when he met other people’s eyes without glowering or turning away himself, lingered, but it wasn’t as strong as it had been, when his old neighbours now greeted him with a smile and nod.

Finally, his feet carried him to the market place. It was less busy than oft times before, but the smell of recently cut flowers that whiffed his way was strong as ever. The only thing that contrasted his memory was the lack of enthusiastic calls, praising the flowers or offering them up for free.

When the vendor’s eyes finally found his they widened in surprise before the skin around them crinkled with joy.

“Geralt!” Kris called out, setting aside the flowers they had been rearranging on the table. There was neither discomfort nor pity in their voice. “I did not expect to see you here today.”

The ‘today’ that was added not as an afterthought but as naturally as if it had always been a certainty that Geralt would return one day, made something in Geralt soften.

“And I did not expect you to pick up my old business.” It was true. If Geralt had ever thought about what Kris might be doing now, this was not something that had ever crossed his mind, but seeing them like this felt strangely right.

Kris shrugged a bit sheepishly, but not without a proud smile. “What can I say, I always liked taking care of people. So why not take care of your garden as well and continue what you and Jaskier started here?” They rubbed the back of their neck a bit uncertainly, leaving a smudge of dirt on their cheek as he brushed the skin there. “I am not very good at it yet, but I like doing it and I’m learning.”

“It took us three tries to get the flowers to survive more than a week the first time around.” When Kris’ expression lifted at Geralt’s words, he added, “Jaskier had a book about gardening. It should still be in the cottage somewhere… You could have it if you wanted to.”

“I would love to! It would make this so much easier. It’s been so hard to figure out how to grow the garden. Don’t even get me started on the damage the last storm left.” Their voice drifted off. “But I can see why you two continued doing it.” They picked up a small white flower and twirled it between their fingers. “Handing out a little happiness with each flower, you know?”

They held the flower out for Geralt.

Geralt hesitated, before taking it. “Don’t tell me you too give flowers away for free.”

Kris let out a chuckle. “Only to old friends.”

After talking with Kris some more, Geralt kept strolling around town. He had to force himself to slow down and every once in a while he had to follow the urge to go into a shadowy alley to breathe deeply and close his eyes until the restless feeling that made his fingers twitch and told him to go do something, to find a distraction and hunt until exhaustion made his mind fall into emptiness, receded enough to let him continue.

It was hard, but he gritted his teeth and thought of Jaskier and of how Geralt hadn’t had anything nice to tell him about what he had seen.

As he turned around a corner, something barrelled past him in a flurry, followed by cheerful cries of “Don’t go!”

Geralt stepped aside, just in time to let more children run past him. He watched them with furrowed brows as they shouted at each other in voices that almost seemed like an imitation of the over the top players Geralt had seen in the theatres Jaskier had dragged him to.

“I’m having none of it!” The first child screamed as she dashed into the next street.

Something about it felt strangely familiar, but no matter how much Geralt wracked his head he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Geralt watched the horde of children disappear around the corner, when the smallest one of them stumbled.

Without hesitation, Geralt went over and helped the little girl up.

She gave him a toothy grin, before her eyes widened.

“You are the White Wolf!” Geralt was taken aback by the sheer amount of glee in her voice. When Geralt nodded, too perplexed to do anything else, her face split in the biggest grin. “Do you want to play with us? If I tell the others that you’re here, maybe we can play ‘Monsters run and Witchers hunt’ again.”

Geralt’s heart leaped at the words and he let out a startled laugh.

“I don’t think I would be any good at that game.” While the girl assessed him critically, Geralt threw another look at the other children who were still shouting theatrically at each other. “What are you playing now?”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Right now, the little siren is swimming to the deepest, darkest part of the ocean.”

Geralt drew back when the pieces finally shifted into place. He only hesitated a moment, before saying, “To find the sea witch?”

The girl nodded. “Yes! The sea witch is evil, but the siren isn’t, even if the adults say all sirens are bad. She falls in love with a pretty prince and saves his life.”

Geralt’s insides twisted into a knot. “Maybe the prince saved her as well.”

For a moment the girl’s eyes grew wide, before she pulled a grimace. “No, I don’t think so.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, when a call cut her off. “Piwonia, come on, we need you to play!”

The girl threw Geralt a toothy grin, before running off to where the little siren was just meeting the prince.

Geralt watched her go and the knot in his chest unfurled as the name Piwonia jogged some distant memory he had almost forgotten, of a baby named after a flower Jaskier had grown and that Geralt of all people had held in his arms years ago – a child too young to have ever heard Jaskier tell the tale of the siren and that still found joy in it.

When Geralt finally tore himself away from the story he had heard so many times, it was the tiniest bit easier not to let his mind fall back into the familiar emptiness.

There was one more old friend Geralt had failed to visit here. Something he couldn’t wait to make up for.

He stood to the side and watched in amusement as his old Roach carefully approached his new one.

The difference between the two horses couldn’t have been more obvious, the old girl huffing in much the same way she had often done when Jaskier had skipped ahead on the road, while the younger horse dashed around her and threw her head back in excitement.

Geralt watched them get to know each other and once the novelty of meeting the other horse wore off and new Roach got more interested in the grass and flowers she was allowed to eat, Geralt approached his old companion and stroked her nostrils.

“We’ll come visit you more often, Roach.” His lips quirked up when the new Roach made a snorting noise at the sound of her name. “And you’ll learn to love her too, I promise.”

It didn’t take Sera long to answer the knock on her parents’ door, as if she had been expecting it. Geralt suspected, that possibility wasn’t as unlikely as it might have seemed to him some weeks ago.

She looked at him expectantly, her eyes trailing down to what Geralt was holding in his hands.

“I needed to find a book,” he said and shifted his weight to one foot while holding up the notebooks in his hand. “and found these. I don’t know if they would be of any use to you, but… they have some new songs Jaskier had written in the past years and …” he broke off, suddenly unsure of how to explain the need to get them out into the world when just a few months ago, the thought of parting with any of Jaskier’s possessions had seemed like an impossible feat.

“And it would be a shame if they would be unsung?” Sera supplied for him.

She took one of the notebooks from him and thumbed through it.

“I don’t know if you can use them,” Geralt repeated. “They are…Jaskier wasn’t at his best when he wrote them, but those were the notes that were the most legible.”

“I do. I could absolutely use them.” She cocked her head to the side. “What about the other notebooks? The less legible ones?”

“I thought I could bring some of them to Oxenfurt.”

Sera snorted, a grin splitting her face. “And let the scholars wrack their heads trying to decipher it?”

“Something like that.”

He didn’t need to tell her about his plans for the other books. The ones he would take to Kaer Morhen, where Eskel could appreciate the poetry about life on the path like no scholar ever could and Vesemir could chuckle to himself over the horribly inaccurate descriptions of monsters in the verses.

Least of all did anyone have to know about the one notebook Geralt intended to keep for himself. The last one Jaskier had ever written in; the only one that wasn’t filled until its last pages.

Geralt had no delusions about his unskilled hand and his lack of fitting words to describe what he saw, but maybe, by filling the pages himself he could give Jaskier some of the world back that he had gifted to Geralt.

It was a silly thought, but one that wouldn’t leave Geralt alone, until he grabbed the notebook and put it on the top of his bag, right next to the seashell that would no longer be buried in the depths of Roach’s bags.

“So when are you planning on leaving for Oxenfurt?”

Geralt lifted his brows. “Are you asking to be polite or is there a different reason you want to know?”

A sly smile stole onto Sera’s face. “For someone who claims to know nothing of the art of words, you are far too good at reading between the lines.”

“I had a lot of practice listening to bards trying to trick me into agreeing to stupid ideas. So, what is your stupid idea?”

If Sera was offended, she didn’t show it. “We could continue to travel a bit. Only until we reach Oxenfurt.” She pointed a finger at his face. “And just so you know, it’s a brilliant idea.”

The twitch of Geralt’s lips wasn’t strong enough to be noticed by anyone who hadn’t known him for years, certainly not enough for Sera to recognise it as the amused smile that it was, for she continued talking. “Did you know that when I left for Oxenfurt, Jaskier told me to find Valdo Marx’ plaque of honour and defile it?”

Geralt folded his arms in front of his chest. “You didn’t do that.”

“Maybe not. Maybe I did. But if you came with me, I could show you where the plaque is and you could find out for yourself. Or do the job yourself.”

Geralt huffed and made sure to make his smile show this time around. “You really are following in Jaskier’s footsteps, aren’t you?”

“Not really.” Sera’s brows knitted together and she turned the notebook in her hand in contemplation. “I’m not doing this out of some sense of obligation or wish to be exactly like my teacher. I am not looking to steal his muse ether. It’s not my fault that you are such good company.”

Geralt huffed, but strangely enough, he didn’t feel the need to correct her.

As if sensing that she was close to victory, she smiled. “So, when did you say we were going to Oxenfurt?”

No matter how carefully Geralt scanned the walls of Oxenfurt Academy, he couldn’t find a single sign that there was or ever has been a plaque of honour for Valdo Marx.

Geralt’s lips twisted into a tight smirk and he was sure the students that heard him curse that damn bard that tricked him hurried past just a little faster, unaware of the humour in his voice, while Sera wore a horribly self-satisfied grin when Geralt finally gave up looking for the plaque she had either made up or managed to make disappear, before she scurried off.

She didn’t say where she was going and Geralt didn’t ask. Maybe they would find each other again in a tavern later. Or maybe Sera would go back to the friends she undoubtedly had here and forget all about Geralt being in Oxenfurt.

Then again, he had thought the very same thing was going to happen multiple times with Jaskier and every single time he had been proven wrong.

Only this time, when Geralt walked the streets of the place that Jaskier used to call his home, no one would call his name in excitement and tell him to wait up for them so they could pack their things before heading off together again, hurrying to gather all of his oh so necessary quills and notebooks.

Sera was to stay here for however long she pleased and Geralt would be off once he had done what he came here for.

A fond but heavy feeling lay like lead in Geralt’s stomach. Here he was, resolute to give away Jaskier’s notebooks that he had worked so long on.

Taking a deep breath, Geralt entered the academy building, the one winding labyrinth that Jaskier has had to guide him through for a change, until he reached the library.

Until the moment he laid eyes on the librarian, he hadn’t been sure whether or not he had hoped that the library would be empty and he wouldn’t be forced to watch another person hold Jaskier’s possessions in their hands.

For a moment, Geralt stood rooted to the spot, until he pulled himself together and marched forward with determination, though his heart beat painfully in his throat.

The librarian eyed him with disdain as he got closer and Geralt could feel his heart sink with every step, his hold on the bag which held the books tightening, until finally he stood in front of the librarian.

He wished Jaskier were here. He wouldn’t just stand there silently and so obviously out of place. Geralt needed to leave, to get out of this room, this building, this city he didn’t belong in. But first he would have to face the impossible task of explaining himself.

He steeled himself to speak, but the words never left his mouth. Instead, he thrust the bag out, holding it out to the librarian. When they didn’t react, he shook the bag a little.

Finally, the librarian reached out, their curiosity or drilled-in manners winning out.

It was almost like handing over part of Jaskier himself. Geralt wanted to hang on, to not let go. Slowly, painfully, his hands loosened their grip on the bag.

“Careful with that.” The words escaped Geralt without meaning to. Without the bag to hold, his hands felt too empty.

The disdain on the librarian’s face turned into incredulity at his words and then when they chanced a glance at the contents of the bags into firey outrage.

“That is no way to carry books!” They took one out of the bag as carefully as if it were a delicate butterfly.

Geralt kept his face impassive, but if Jaskier were here, he would have grinned at the librarian’s boldness, reprimanding a witcher in full armour.

Maybe there was something about Oxenfurt that made its scholars lose all self-preservation. Though more likely it was Jaskier’s influence seeping through his other home.

Geralt watched as the librarian thumbed through the book, the crease on their forehead growing with every passing second.

“What is this?”

Geralt leaned forward to see which book they held in their hands and this time he couldn’t hide the grin.

“Those are Master Jaskier’s.” When the librarian’s eyes widened, he added, “You’ll have to sort through that one. A storm messed up the loose pages and who knows in what order they truly belonged.”

As he left, he almost could imagine Jaskier’s glare at the back of his neck that he had actually dared to make good on his playful threat to publish his works in messed up order. On the other hand, there was no doubt that once Jaskier had an ale or two he would have cracked up about the thought of the professors wracking their heads over trying to get his notes in order only to find out they were children’s stories. If he were here, he probably would have even spread false rumours about the correct order and sit back to watch in delight as the professors debated over his work.

But Jaskier wasn’t here. Geralt had to make do with telling Sera about it.

She grinned and toasted to him, but she wasn’t Jaskier. No one was.

Oxenfurt was a city of arts, of stories and of music. Geralt should have known that sooner or later, under the cheering of the crowd, a bard would make their way to the middle of the tavern and strike up a song on their lute.

Sera didn’t try to stop Geralt when he stormed out of the room to get Roach and escape the tightness in his throat that threatened to choke him, the sound of the lute haunting him like a wraith.

He was grateful that Sera didn’t push him to stay. But as he left Oxenfurt behind, he found himself already dreading the lonesomeness of the path ahead of him.

#and thus the healing begins #the librarian is not amused with Geralt walking in in full armour probably making a lot of clanky noise #so when i wrote that the lute wasn't really for sera i fully intended to make her play the hurdy-gurdy because i think the name sounds funny #i kind of regret that now that the story has gotten far more serious than i intended #im going to excuse that decision by saying that Geralt's theme on the soundtrack is played by a hurdy-gurdy #also hurdy gurdies are amazing #im going to move tomorrow and who even knows how bad the internet will be at my new home #so maybe there won't be an update tomorrow #geraskier #but lets hope for good internet #geralt #witcher #witcher fanfic #fic #my writing #grief #accidental multichapter #Birds still sing when they fall from the sky

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champhangman · 4 years

Text

No Other

Title: No Other Characters: Nick Jackson x OFC Part: Three of ? Summary: I don’t know the loneliness you’ve known. I don’t hear the frosty words echo inside. Word Count: 4,849 Warnings: n/a A/N: I promised some folks this would come yesterday, but it’s late because I am an anxious xennial writer that, despite everyone’s praise, constantly questions my abilities

@adampage / @cowboyshit / @baylynch / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @heelsamizayn / @what-does-mine-say / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @merchfreak / @markostuntthesehoes / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega /

Three

Jasmine agonized for the next week. Why had she done that? What had she been thinking? How could she have thought it was okay? She replayed the moments over and over until she had picked apart every detail, from the way her heart had jumped in her chest when he'd given her his hoodie to the way his mouth had felt on hers. Try as she might, she couldn't hate the kiss, or him for letting it happen, or the way it had made her feel.

Intoxicated. His lips had been like a fine, undiscovered wine, and she had wanted to drink from them for the rest of the night. In those moments she had been able to forget every reason why kissing him was the worst possible idea. She'd only been able to focus on him – the slightly callused palms on her cheeks, the warmth of his lips, the silk of his hair, the decadence of his tongue.

And she had, for a split second, hated whoever had called him and broken the spell.

She had immediately been grateful because she had done the worst possible thing. She didn't even know why, even after days of brooding, other than she had wanted to. Which was, she thought, the stupidest reason in the history of all reasons for kissing. Her boss.

She had kissed her boss.

Yes, she had only intended to kiss his cheek. That had been her plan while she stood there, wrapped in the warmth of a hoodie that smelled of him. A kiss on the cheek was fine. A little less than professional, but it fit into the laidback atmosphere of a company where people greeted each other with hugs and departed with more hugs and kisses to cheeks. He had been so nice, making sure she got to her car safely and sticking around to make sure she left without problems. She had doubted his vague claim of some duties but had chalked it all up to him just being a nice guy.

He was a nice guy, that was all there was to it. Nick Jackson was just a nice guy. That was why it had felt so natural to stand there after saying good night, why she hadn't hesitated to lean up to give him a goodnight kiss. On the cheek.

But then…

Had he turned? Or had it been her? Had she imagined that little crackle of awareness? All she knew was that his hand had been at her waist and she had smelled the cinnamon on his breath. There had been butterflies in her chest and an ache that she had thought she would never feel again.

And the kiss had done nothing but make the ache grow.

She was able to forget it during the day, when she was busy with her few work duties and cooking and cleaning and laundry and going to the park. She was able to forget it when she was eating and when she went for her daily run. But when her apartment grew quiet at night and it was just her and whatever music or TV show she put on for company, it rushed back to the forefront of her mind.

Jasmine was determined to forget it, though, and made the decision while packing that she would not bring it up when she saw Nick again. She would avoid him but that would be impossible. She just wouldn't say a word about the kiss. She would pretend it hadn't happened.

But of course, of course, he was the first person she saw when she got to the venue. She didn't dare think he had been waiting for her, but she tried to fight the little flutter in her chest as she finished checking in and turned to see him talking to Matt and Adam. The flutter grew into a flurry when he laughed.

"Jazzy," Adam called when she tried to slip by without being noticed.

And then Nick was looking at her. She couldn't look away, because, despite her promises to herself, she was remembering everything. His hand on her waist, his cologne, the taste of cinnamon, the gentle caress of his fingers on her cheeks, and the warmth of his hoodie around her.

"You ready for me?"

"Huh?" Jasmine winced at the sound that came from her lungs. Like a startled goose. Jerked from her thoughts, she blinked and was able to tear her gaze away so she could look at Adam. "Ready?"

"For the thing."

"Oh! Right!" She'd completely forgotten, even though she had spent two hours in her hotel room pulling questions to ask him. Glancing at her watch, she nodded. "We'll start in a little over an hour. I have to check in with Dylan and find a place to do it."

"You can use the EVP office," Matt said, eyes darting between her and Nick. "No one's going to be using that for a while."

Jasmine nodded again. She couldn't look at Nick. Not again. She couldn't bear the thought of reliving the kiss all over again. Did he feel as uncomfortable and embarrassed as her? Or had he given any of it a second thought since that night? "Thanks. I'll go ahead and get everything ready."

"Is everything okay?" Nick. His voice gentle and, to her, he sounded concerned.

"Fine," she chirped, giving him the barest of glances. Pressing her lips together, she began to turn away, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I gotta run. See you later."

***

"What's with her?" Matt asked while Jasmine hurried down the hall.

Nick was grateful when Adam brought up possible reasons for Jasmine being not herself. Travel, little sleep, bad food, the list went on and on, with Matt throwing in options as well. He kept silent, eyes on her retreating figure until she turned a corner and disappeared, then looked down at his shoes as though he didn't have a clue as to what was wrong with her.

When he knew damn well it was him. Or, if not him, what had happened with him.

"She hardly said a thing in the group chat the other day," Matt said. "Wonder if something's up at home?"

"Maybe she was just busy." Adam twirled an unopened straw between his fingers. "Didn't you say her niece practically lives with her?"

"Nick said that, not me."

"I didn't say that." Nick lifted his head. "I said her niece is with her a lot."

"Then there you go." Adam shrugged. "She was probably with her niece. Would you want to talk to you idiots if you were with family?"

Nick and Matt just looked at him.

"Oh, right, you idiots are family." Adam grinned.

"Speaking of idiots," Matt muttered.

"Got it from y'all," Adam muttered back.

"Was she okay when she left last week?" Matt asked suddenly, looking to Nick. "You were at Daily's until everyone left, did you see her?"

"I left right after she did," he answered evasively, grateful to feel his phone start to buzz in his pocket. Reaching for it, he grunted when his brother snatched it out of his grasp. "What the hell—"

"Something happened." Matt narrowed his eyes. "Didn't it?"

"Yeah. You took my phone."

Adam began to snicker.

"Something happened with Jazzy."

Nick tried to keep his face impassive. Tried to not let anything show. It had been easier during their days off when they'd been kept busy with things for BTE and plans for storylines. And especially when Matt's wife had insisted he do something with her for a day, during which Nick had been left blissfully alone. Now, though, there was no escape. If he walked away Matt would be right behind him, this time with Adam in tow.

"Well?" Matt demanded, looking down at Nick's phone. "It's just Brandon. He's finished with the stuff from Chuck and Trent."

"I better go check it out," Nick decided, taking a tentative step back.

"No. Tell me what happened."

"I'm gone," Adam sighed, shaking his head. "Y'all are giving me a headache."

Nick waited until he was gone and sighed when Matt cleared his throat. "Nothing happened."

"I'm not stupid, Nick." Matt scoffed when Nick lifted his eyebrows. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Nick insisted.

"I don't believe you."

Rolling his eyes, he snatched his phone from Matt's hand and shoved it into his pocket. "Don't be such a prick."

"What's gotten into you? You were fine until—" Matt's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Something did happen."

"For the love of… I'm going to see Bran." He reached for his phone to find out where Brandon was, muttering a curse when the immediate reply was that he was with Jasmine. And Nick had the feeling that he was the last person she wanted to see. So he hesitated, weighing his options, finally concluding that he could wait until Brandon was elsewhere.

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

"No." He kept his gaze on his phone, idly closing apps and adjusting the brightness.

"How long are things gonna be weird?"

"Things aren't weird," he defended.

"You—"

"It's not weird." Nick sighed and lowered his phone. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Nick…"

But he was already walking away. His brother's sigh followed him but he didn't turn back. He didn't want to listen to Matt's unending questions or watch his face while he tried to figure out what had happened. Worse, he didn't want to potentially make the wrong face that would have Matt unraveling the latest mystery. Anything that he didn't immediately know all the reasons behind was an ambiguous secret that he had to solve.

Nick hated being his latest unsolved mystery.

Matt was the last person he wanted to know what had happened. Not that anything had happened. It had just been a kiss.

Just a kiss.

That he'd tried to not think about over the past week. Just a kiss that he refused to mope around over, because who moped over a kiss that had been interrupted? It wasn't as though he'd never been kissed before. It wasn't as though he hadn't enjoyed longer, deeper kisses that had led to not crawling into an empty bed.

But despite the reminders he gave himself every time he began thinking about the kiss, he still thought about it. More than he should have. More than he'd have thought he would.

What he thought about the most, though, was the terror in her eyes when they'd broken apart. How flustered she had been, diving into her car and getting away from him as quickly as possible. As though she'd committed a horrible sin and wanted to speed away from possible judgment.

He stopped walking when he reached the end of the hallway, giving his head a shake to clear the thoughts that had nothing to do with work. Glancing up when he heard a door open, he saw Brandon coming out of a room, laughing.

"Hey Nick, if you need me, I'll be in the EVP room helping Jazz set up for the thing with Adam." Brandon grinned. "I heard you're doing it next week?"

"Yeah." He hoped it did well. Hoped she would do sessions with lesser-known men and women in the company. "Need a hand?"

"Nah, we've got it." Watching his friend head down the hall, he glanced at the closed door that was labeled 'Social Media' and thought about going inside to see if they could talk. But, able to hear her and Dylan talking, he sighed and turned in the opposite direction.

***

"You know, in my head, this was just going to be some casual thing in a corner, not something professional looking with a backdrop and everything," Jasmine commented, stepping back. "Next thing I know, you'll be producing mics and talking about lighting."

Brandon chuckled, shaking his head. "Do you want a mic?"

"Not this time," she decided. Her nerves were starting to make themselves known. She had thought she would sit behind the tablet and ask the questions off-camera, but Brandon had insisted she be in the frame, too. Although she had no idea why anyone would want to see her. Everyone that watched would only be interested in looking at Adam. "Maybe if it gets a good response we can graduate to mics, but I want to keep it a little casual, you know? Dylan was saying that if it does well, we can try some impromptu ones during commercial breaks."

"It'll do great," he promised, smiling. "I'll go get the tripod, alright?"

"Thanks."

She watched him leave then pulled out her phone. He'd said the tripod was in his suitcase in the main locker room. She didn't know how fast he walked, but allowing for random conversations and a fast pace, she calculated that she had at least ten minutes for a quick FaceTime.

"Hey," she greeted as soon as her call was answered. "I've only got a few minutes but wanted to check in."

"She just woke up from her nap." Meg, her longtime friend and babysitter smiled. "Bea, someone wants to see you!"

The screen blurred as the phone was turned, and there she was, flaxen curls a mess and a chocolate milk mustache on her upper lip. She grinned. "Hi!"

Jasmine smiled, arms aching to hold the little girl close. She longed to kiss her chubby cheeks and comb her fingers through the messy curls. She inhaled, wishing she could smell the lavender shampoo and sweet scent of Downy. "Hey, sweetheart. Having a good day?"

"Uh-huh! Goin' to the museum!" Beatrice picked up her cup and took a long drink of chocolate milk. About to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, she wrinkled her nose when Meg pushed a napkin towards her. "Gonna see dinos!"

"Don't try talking Meg into letting you steal one," Jasmine warned. She loved her. More than she had ever thought she could love another human being. Even when she crammed Goldfish crackers into her mouth then giggled, sending a spray of crumbs everywhere.

"If I'm good I can get a stuffed dino," Beatrice said, still grinning. Then her eyes, dark as the chocolate syrup she loved, widened when Meg groaned. "Meg said not to tell you."

"You're always letting the cat out of the bag, Honeybee," Jasmine sighed.

"Meg don't have a cat."

"It's just a saying. But you getting a new stuffed dino is fine. I don't know where you're gonna put it, but we'll make room." She had a feeling the new stuffy would end up on her bed, as all of Beatrice's stuffed animals did. Just as her nightstand and dresser were always littered with the hard, plastic dinosaurs that seemed to multiply overnight.

"Are you with the wrestlers?" Beatrice asked, leaning close as though she could see more people that way.

"I'm alone right now, but they're around."

"I took a long nap so I can watch 'em tonight! Meg promised!"

"Meg's the best," Jasmine concurred. "But if you fall asleep we can watch it tomorrow when I get home."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too, Honeybee." A lump formed in her throat. Bad idea, she decided, to check in with Beatrice while at work. She would have to remember to keep her check-ins to texts. "Be a good girl at the museum, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Beatrice looked sad. "You gonna cry?"

"Not this time," Jasmine promised. She would wait and do that later when the risk of being walked in on wasn't so high. "I better go. Meg, call me if she's still awake at the end of the show?"

"Sure thing."

"Finish your snack so you can go have fun," Jasmine told Beatrice with a sad smile. "I'll talk to you later. I love you so much, Honeybee."

"I love you, Mommy!" Beatrice puckered her lips and kissed the screen.

Laughing when she heard Meg's squawk, Jasmine blew a kiss in return then ended the call. She released a shaky breath, willing the tears to not come. About to text Meg to thank her for watching Beatrice again, she felt the phone slip from her hand at the clearing of a throat behind her. Her phone fell to the floor with a thump and, heart skipping a beat, she slowly turned to see Brandon.

"Hey," she squeaked, peering behind him to make sure no one else had come into the room with him. But the door was closed, thankfully. Or not. She slowly looked at him, nervous energy twisting in her stomach.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I think so."

"I didn't know you were a mom."

"No one does," she whispered. "I mean, no one here."

"I should have knocked," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine, you didn't know, and…" God, was he going to tell everyone? Wasn't he Nick and Matt's best friend? She knew that being a mother wasn't taboo, but surely they would want to know why she hadn't mentioned her daughter during her interview. They would want to know why she'd lied and referred to her as her niece.

"Why doesn't anyone know?" He held up his hands. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I understand wanting to keep your life private. I'm curious, is all."

"I, um…" She cleared her throat. "It's not a huge secret, I just… I lost a couple of jobs because of her. That wasn't the official reason, but I knew it was because my daughter was more important to me than work."

"As she should be," Brandon said with a nod. "You don't have to worry about that here, Jazz."

"I know, but…" She sighed. "I don't want the questions to start."

He tilted his head, then nodded again. "I get you. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"You won't?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course not." He gave her a look that assured her he was trustworthy. "It's not my secret to tell."

"Thank you." Taking the tripod from him, she smiled with relief.

***

"Thanks again, Adam, that was great. I'll see you later—"

"Wait, Jazzy, hold up."

She turned at the door. Had she forgotten something? She mentally went over everything she had brought with her and remembered putting everything back into her bag. Surprised to see him walking towards her, she raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say… It was fun, talking to you." He smiled while beginning to brush his hair back with his fingers. "You wanna do it again sometime?"

"Another Q-and-A thing?" she asked.

"No, no, not that," he chuckled. "I was thinking we could go out for drinks or something after the show tonight?"

"We?" she repeated.

"If you want." His smile began to fade. "Unless… Are you seeing someone? Sorry if me asking offended you or—"

"No, I'm not seeing anyone." The memory of her and Nick's kiss flashed in her mind and she sighed. "Very much single."

"Yeah?" He licked his lips. "Good."

"I appreciate the ask, but I'm not interested in dating someone I work with." That sounded bad, she thought, frowning. "I mean, I could be interested…"

Adam's eyebrows quirked. "Oh?"

"But I can't do it. Personal rule."

"It doesn't have to be a date thing," he said.

The space between them grew smaller and she tipped her head back to look up at him. "Doesn't it?"

"We can just be two work friends going out for a drink or two." He leaned against the wall next to the door. "What do you say?"

Her first instinct was to say no. She wasn't the type to go out for drinks. She hadn't had drinks in so long she'd forgotten what her favorite drinks were. Other than the occasional glass of wine, she didn't let herself imbibe as much as she used to, back when she was younger and stupider. But there was something so appealing about the idea of just relaxing. She wouldn't have to get drunk. She could just enjoy a drink or two with a man she wasn't interested in. Her only other option was sitting alone in her hotel room waiting for exhaustion to set in so she could sleep until it was time to catch her flight. Nodding her head, she smiled. "Yeah, sure. I can do friends going out for a drink."

"Great." He pushed off the wall and reached to open the door. "We'll hook up after the show?"

"We're not hooking up, Adam."

"We'll meet up, then."

"Still makes it sound like a date."

He rolled his eyes. "We'll find each other after the show?"

Jasmine wrinkled her nose. "That works, I guess."

"You figure out the right words and let me know," he said, nudging her shoulder before heading away.

Rolling her eyes, she went back to her and Dylan's quasi office. It was empty and she dropped her bag on the table to catch up on work, having made the decision to keep away from Nick for as long as possible. As much as possible. She knew it would only make it more awkward when she ran into him, but she had to stay away.

Adam texted her, asking if she'd figured out the right words.

Adam. He was safe. Her heart didn't flutter and her stomach didn't flip over itself a dozen times a second when she was around him. There was no danger of falling into the trap she'd fallen into before, no fear that she would find herself plunging into obsession over him. She could do drinks with him and not be tempted to let it lead to anything more. Replying that she was still thinking it over, she turned her attention to work.

When the show was over she packed away her things, keeping her tablet out to send a few more tweets and check for posts from the talent that she would need to repost. Groaning when another Disney song began to play on her phone, she almost skipped it but then shrugged, humming along to the first few bars while she watched a short video she had clipped to post.

"Yet I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem." She pulled one leg beneath her to get more comfortable, eyes on the tablet screen. "But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream…"

"I didn't know we'd hired a Disney princess," a voice said from the doorway.

Yelping in surprise, Jasmine snatched up her phone to pause the song. Her cheeks burned and she slowly swiveled to see Nick standing just inside the room. Startled, she inhaled deeply and bit her lip. "Nick… I didn't know anyone was listening."

"It was—" He exhaled. "You got a minute or two?"

"Sure. What's up?" She hated how strained her voice sounded. She also hated that just the sight of him brought up the fluttering in her chest. Suddenly she wanted to taste cinnamon. Looking away from him, she picked up her earbuds and began to wind the cord so her hands would be occupied.

"Can we talk?"

"Yes?" Her heart began to rattle in her chest. Brandon had told him. The thought made her physically hurt because she had thought she could trust him. She should have known he would tell Nick, one of his best friends. It wasn't as though she were anyone important.

"Jasmine?"

"What about?" she squeaked, twisting the cord around her fingers.

"Last week," he said softly.

"Oh. God." Did they have to? She gave her head a small shake, trying to clear the fears. At least for a little while. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I think there is."

"I'm sorry." She lifted her eyes to his face. "I shouldn't have done it."

He frowned and took a step forward. "It—"

"It was a mistake. It won't happen again. I'm sorry."

"A mistake?"

"A terrible one," she confirmed. Seeing him flinch, she rose to her feet. "I don't – That wasn't supposed to sound so mean."

"Why was it a mistake?"

She stared at him, unblinking. Then she remembered that he didn't know. He couldn't possibly know, otherwise he wouldn't be asking. And she didn't have the nerve to tell him. She didn't want to see his opinion of her lower.

Whore.

"Because it was," she answered. Lame, yes, but it was the best she could do without going into detail. "It shouldn't have happened. You're my boss."

Gold-digging bitch.

"I'm only your boss when we're working." His hands kept moving. Into the pockets of his shorts, then out, tugging at his shirt. She hadn't thought him one to have a lot of nervous energy.

Then she wished she hadn't looked, because each time she saw his hands she remembered them on her face. "You—"

"And technically speaking, Dylan's your direct boss, and above him would be Brandon—"

"It doesn't matter," she said, flinching at the harshness of her tone. "I'm sorry, Nick."

"For what?"

"For doing that—"

"You can say the word, Jasmine."

"I'm sorry I kissed you," she whispered. The words made her chest ache. Because she wasn't really sorry she'd kissed him. She was sorry over the situation and the fact that she couldn't let herself get into a position where she would want to kiss him again. "I'm sorry I stepped over the line. I don't want you to think I go around kissing men whenever the mood strikes—"

"I don't," he said gently.

"Because I don't. I don't want things to be weird because I love working here already. But things are weird now, aren't they?"

"Yeah, I guess they are if you think so," he murmured.

He looked down and she felt the cord snap between her fingers. "I just can't let myself do anything like that with someone I work with. It's against my rules, and—"

"Hey Jazzy, you ready to go?"

She didn't say it often, although she thought it frequently, but the word slipped out at the sound of Adam's voice. "Fuck."

"Oh, hey Nick." Adam was smiling as he stepped into the room. He looked from her to Nick then back again. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No."

"Yes."

Jasmine blinked at Nick's contradiction to her answer. "No," she said again, not liking the frown that was pulling at his lips. "We were just talking about—"

"Next week's Q-and-A," Nick finished for her. The smile he managed didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Right. …Did I tell you that more fans requested Nick than Matt?" She directed the question to Adam, who still looked confused, and as though he didn't believe what they were saying.

He chuckled. "No shit? Did you tell him?"

"I don't have the nerve." She turned and began stuffing her things into her bag.

"I'll do it," Adam offered.

"Don't," Nick groaned. "I'll have to listen to him bitch all the way home."

"Won't you anyway?" Jasmine asked without thinking. There was a small silence and she sneaked a glance at the men an instant before they both began to laugh.

"I'm gonna tell him you said that," Nick warned after choking back a giggle.

She liked that he giggled, liked that he let his humor out so freely. At the moment, she liked that he didn't look so serious. Picking up her bag, she smiled faintly when Adam reached to take it from her. She felt awkward while she pushed the chair under the table and slipped her phone into the pocket of her jeans. Acutely aware of Nick looking at her, she grabbed the hoodie off the back of the chair and slipped her arms into her sleeves.

"Ready?" Adam looked at Nick. "We're going for drinks."

"It's not a date," Jasmine blurted because she felt she had to. Otherwise, he would think she was a hypocrite. Bad enough he probably thought she kissed men on a whim, she couldn't let him think she was a liar, too.

Whore.

Nick nodded and stepped to the side so she could leave the room. She disliked the awkwardness that still stretched between them and missed how easygoing things had been just a week before. She wanted that again. She wanted him to smile and call her his favorite employee. Wishing she held the magic words to smooth everything over, she zipped up her hoodie and threw the ruined earbuds into the trash.

"Have fun."

Jasmine managed a nod, biting the inside of her lip when Adam's hand landed on the small of her back to steer her out. She stopped at the doorway and looked back. "Do you want to go?"

"He doesn't drink," Adam muttered.

Nick shook his head, smiling, and his smile looked genuine. "Not really my thing. See you next week?"

"Of course you will." As though she could avoid him. "Bye, Nick."

"Bye, Jasmine."

#nick jackson fanfiction #aew fanfiction #my fics #multipart:NO #also omg you guys/gals/people really blow me away with your praise

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angelltheninth · 4 years

Text

Nothing Left to Lose Analysis

Never even attempted a song analysis but here goes nothing! Let’s analyze the hell out of this!

[VARIAN]

Cassandra, you're angry, I get it. Believe me, I know what it's like, but you are making a mistake!

Alright, this beginning doesn’t really need explaining but I’ll do it anyways. Varian understands what Cass is going through, at least part of it. He’s felt anger, he let it consume him and in return he became a criminal who ultimately got jail time for his actions. As Cass’s friend he doesn’t want to see her make the same mistakes he made before.

The path of hate is a dangerous track

You take one step, and it's hard to turn back

It pulls you along, and though it seems wrong

It feels right

When Varian lost Quirin he felt anger and hate towards Rapunzel and the people of Corona, he wanted revenge and although he knew what he was doing was wrong he felt like there was no other choice. In “Ready As I’ll Ever Be” he even says “And I’ll stand up and fight, cause I know that I’m right”, in that moment he truly thought that his solution was the best course of action for him.

Don't you see

This path you're on leaves a permanent mark

It feels good at first, then it slowly turns dark

With each passing day, you're further astray from the light

Now for this “permanent mark” bit can be taken to ways. The first one is that Cass is walking down a path and the steps she takes down that path will never be erased. No matter where she goes next she’ll always be haunted by the path she once walked on. And that path, even though Cassandra felt good at first as seen in “Crossing the Line” has lead her deeper into darkness as she’s been following Zhan Tiri’s advice more and more. The second “permanent mark” is Cassandra’s hand. While we see that its covered by the armor of the Moonstone, its unlikely that its actually healed since that’s not what the Moonstone does. This will be an injury that Cassandra will carry her whole life, quite literally a permanent mark. Although the next set of lyrics follows the first interpretation.

Suddenly

You lose your way and lose the thread

Lose your cool and lose your head

Every loss is harder to excuse

As Cass goes further along that path she will lose the thread that lead her to the beginning of it, with no way back, lost in a maze of darkness and loneliness, something that we see at the very end of the song. She’s not thinking rationally anymore just fueled by anger and whatever Zhan Tiri whispers in her ear. She’s also been talking to no one but Zhan Tiri for several months, someone only she can see and hear, so from the perspective of someone looking that her it would seem like she’s lost her mind due to the Moonstone and months of isolation and loneliness. Even with everyone thinking she’s lost it she still making excuses that she thinks justify her actions but the more she makes those excuses the harder it is to justify the excuses themselves. Because she’s grasping at straws for excuses.

Then you'll see

You'll lose your faith and lose your soul

Till you lose complete control

And realize there's nothing left to lose

Nothing left to lose

This talks about Cassandra losing faith in her friends. Over the course of s2 we’ve seen how the fact that her advice was ignored and she was pushed aside affected her. That and the reveal about Gothel. Cassandra only has faith in herself, her power and Zhan Tiri because she “helped” her. But trusting Zhan Tiri is like trusting the Devil. In exchange for everything Cassandra gained she lost herself, she lost her family and her friends. And what’s left? An illusion of power and freedom created by Zhan Tiri.

Cass, trust me, becoming the villain isn't the answer!

Here Varian is once again referring to his downfall and becoming the villain in s1. But it didn’t get him anywhere even though he believed he can find the solution and successes by becoming the villain.

[CASSANDRA]

Is that what you think I am?

Now here, the main difference between Cassandra and Varian is that Varian admitted he was the villain in s1 and saw himself as such. Cassandra on the other hand doesn’t see herself as the villain at all. She doesn’t believe her actions are evil, and from her point of view they’re not, they’re justice no matter how twisted it is.

The path I'm on is a path paved in black

I'm taking that road and I'm not looking back

Each twist and each turn

Leads straight where I'm yearning to go

Cassandra choose her path, and even though its dark right now she believes that there is light at the end, her destiny, her reward. And even though this path isn’t straight and narrow, its complicated to navigate she doesn’t think she can get lost on it like Varian suggests. She belives she know her way around, that she has a map to lead her to her goal. That map is sadly Zhan Tiri. Not a very good map in my opinion. But Cassandra believes that by following Zhan Tiri she’ll get to the end of her path.

Yes, it's true, my path is dark

But I see where it ends

My rivals will fall as my power ascends

Despise me, that's fine

I'm taking what's mine even so

Here Cassandra once again acknowledges that her path is dark one, but she knows where the end is. At least she thinks that. Her rivals, Rapunzel mainly, will lose the power as Cassandra gains it. That’s what Zhan Tiri led her to believe, that Rapunzel has a piece of her power and that she has to take it back. Even though we know that the real goal was for Zhan Tiri to finally get her freedom. She doesn’t care if this makes Rapunzel and the other hate her she thinks its worth is if she can get what she wants. Furthermore I believe she’s expecting, hoping they hate her because she thinks it will somehow make things easier for her.

Not like you

You lost your nerve, you lost the game

But you and I, we're not the same

I'm not lost, this fate was mine to choose

Here Cassandra refers to Varian losing at the end of s1, something that she doesn’t think will happen to her. She sees herself as someone who has what it takes to win. She refuses to think that she’s lost on the path that she’s currently on, refuses to think that she can be lost because she believes that this is what she chose.

So I chose

To lose my doubts and lose my chains

Lose each weakness that remains

Now that I have nothing left to lose

Nothing left to lose

Cassandra doubted her abilities a lot in s2, her ability to server and protect Rapunzel, her ability to fulfil her duties. But now she doesn’t have those doubts and more and she doesn’t have her chains. The chains are her family and friends, but most of all Rapunzel, who is also her weakness. By no longer associating herself with Rapunzel, moving further away from Rapunzel’s own path she believes she’s found her freedom, and with that freedom she’s no longer bound to anyone and anything.

[VARIAN]

You have so much to hold onto

Varian is trying to convince her that even though she believes she has nothing and no one, her friends and family still believe in her, they’re not gone as Cass thinks they are.

[CASSANDRA]

I only want

My rightful dues!

Cassandra only wants her destiny right now, she doesn’t think about anything else because everything has been so twisted up by anger, rejection, loneliness and once again Zhan Tiri’s influence.

[VARIAN AND (CASSANDRA)]

Listen, please (Lose)

You've lost your grip

And lost your mind (I'm not gonna lose)

All's not lost, don't be so blind (I refuse)

Cut your losses, drop the IOUs (I refuse)

Varian like before believes that Cassandra lost her grip on reality and reason, that’s she spiraling further and further into madness. To an extent he’s correct because Cassandra isn’t in a right state of mind right now as I’ve previously explained. Cassandra however refuses to admit that what Varian is saying could be true. She doesn’t think she can lose. Varian also tries to tell her that she can go back, she can fix things, she just has to let go of her anger and resentment, she needs to see reason again. But she is also blinded by those feelings.

[VARIAN]

Ooh, choose!

Short and simple, Cassandra needs to choose to further walk down this path of darkness or she can return to the light.

[CASSANDRA]

I lose no tears and lose no sleep

What I want, I'll take and keep

Cassandra is convincing herself that what she’s doing doesn’t bother her, it doesn’t make her feel guilty or make her sad. But she’s also not allowing herself to feel those emotions. Yes, its true that Cassandra hasn’t cried once since this whole thing started, Cassandra isn’t the person to show emotion easily. At least not all emotions. The only ones she’s displayed so far are anger, hatred, and at times hesitation. Cassandra no doubt, has many repressed emotions but she can’t let herself feel any of them right now because if she does she could lose her resolve and everything she believes she’s gained.

[VARIAN]

It's time for you to choose!

Once again Varian asks Cass to consider stopping what she’s doing and turn back.

[CASSANDRA]

You can't stop

This although part of the next verse, is also Cassandra saying to Varian that he can’t change her mind.

[VARIAN AND CASSANDRA]

The turning of the screws

Cassandra’s plan is already set in motion, at this point she doesn’t think she can stop and doesn’t see the point in trying.

[CASSANDRA]

Now I have nothing left to lose

With distancing herself from everyone, and severing her connections to Rapunzel Cassandra has nothing left to lose. But she also realizes this means she really has nothing left anymore. Nothing and no one by her side. Now she’s completely alone. The way her voice breaking and the sad expression at the end suggest that she never really thought about it that way before, she never considered being completely alone, having no one there for her.

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #cassandra #tangled cassandra #tts cassandra #cassandra's revenge #varian #tts varian #nothing left to lose #song analysis

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