#but apparently i'm going to The Mountains tomorrow

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Utah’s getting some of America’s best broadband

TOMORROW (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

Residents of 21 cities in Utah have access to some of the fastest, most competitively priced broadband in the country, at speeds up to 10gb/s and prices as low as $75/month. It's uncapped, and the connections are symmetrical: perfect for uploading and downloading. And it's all thanks to the government.

This broadband service is, of course, delivered via fiber optic cable. Of course it is. Fiber is vastly superior to all other forms of broadband delivery, including satellites, but also cable and DSL. Fiber caps out at 100tb/s, while cable caps out at 50gb/s – that is, fiber is 1,000 times faster:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/why-fiber-vastly-superior-cable-and-5g

Despite the obvious superiority of fiber, America has been very slow to adopt it. Our monopolistic carriers act as though pulling fiber to our homes is an impossible challenge. All those wires that currently go to your house, from power-lines to copper phone-lines, are relics of a mysterious, fallen civilization and its long-lost arts. Apparently we could no more get a new wire to your house than we could build the pyramids using only hand-tools.

In a sense, the people who say we can't pull wires anymore are right: these are relics of a lost civilization. Specifically, electrification and later, universal telephone service was accomplished through massive federal grants under the New Deal – grants that were typically made to either local governments or non-profit co-operatives who got everyone in town connected to these essential modern utilities.

Today – thanks to decades of neoliberalism and its dogmatic insistence that governments can't do anything and shouldn't try, lest they break the fragile equilibrium of the market – we have lost much of the public capacity that our grandparents took for granted. But in the isolated pockets where this capacity lives on, amazing things happen.

Since 2015, residents of Jackson County, KY – one of the poorest counties in America – have enjoyed some of the country's fastest, cheapest, most reliable broadband. The desperately poor Appalachian county is home to a rural telephone co-op, which grew out of its rural electrification co-op, and it used a combination of federal grants and local capacity to bring fiber to every home in the county, traversing dangerous mountain passes with a mule named "Ole Bub" to reach the most remote homes. The result was an immediately economic uplift for the community, and in the longer term, the county had reliable and effective broadband during the covid lockdowns:

https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us

Contrast this with places where the private sector has the only say over who gets broadband, at what speed, and at what price. America is full of broadband deserts – deserts that strand our poorest people. Even in the hearts of our largest densest cities, whole neighborhoods can't get any broadband. You won't be surprised to learn that these are the neighborhoods that were historically redlined, and that the people who live in them are Black and brown, and also live with some of the highest levels of pollution and its attendant sicknesses:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/10/flicc/#digital-divide

These places are not set up for success under the best of circumstances, and during the lockdowns, they suffered terribly. You think your kid found it hard to go to Zoom school? Imagine what life was like for kids who attended remote learning while sitting on the baking tarmac in a Taco Bell parking lot, using its free wifi:

https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2020/09/02/elem-s02.html

ISPs loathe competition. They divide up the country into exclusive territories like the Pope dividing up the "new world" and do not trouble one another by trying to sell to customers outside of "their" turf. When Frontier – one of the worst of America's terrible ISPs – went bankrupt, we got to see their books, and we learned two important facts:

The company booked one million customers who had no alternative as an asset, because they would pay more for slower broadband, and Frontier could save a fortune by skipping maintenance, and charging these customers for broadband even through multi-day outages; and

Frontier knew that it could make a billion dollars in profit over a decade by investing in fiber build-out, but it chose not to, because stock analysts will downrank any carrier that made capital investments that took more than five years to mature. Because Frontier's execs were paid primarily in stock, they chose to strand their customers with aging copper connections and to leave a billion dollars sitting on the table, so that their personal net worth didn't suffer a temporary downturn:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/04/frontiers-bankruptcy-reveals-cynical-choice-deny-profitable-fiber-millions

ISPs maintain the weirdest position: that a) only the private sector can deliver broadband effectively, but b) to do so, they'll need massive, unsupervised, no-strings-attached government handouts. For years, America went along with this improbable scheme, which is why Trump's FCC chairman Ajit Pai gave the carriers $45 billion in public funds to string slow, 19th-century-style copper lines across rural America:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/27/all-broadband-politics-are-local/

Now, this is obviously untrue, and people keep figuring out that publicly provisioned broadband is the only way for America to get the same standard of broadband connectivity that our cousins in other high-income nations enjoy. In order to thwart the public's will, the cable and telco lobbyists joined ALEC, the far-right, corporatist lobbying shop, and drafted "model legislation" banning cities and counties from providing broadband, even in places the carriers chose not to serve:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/19/culture-war-bullshit-stole-your-broadband/

Red states across America adopted these rules, and legislators sold this to their base by saying that this was just "keeping the government out of their internet" (even as every carrier relied on an exclusive, government-granted territorial charter, often with massive government subsidies).

ALEC didn't target red states exclusively because they had pliable, bribable conservative lawmakers. Red states trend rural, and rural places are the most likely sites for public fiber. Partly, that's because low-density areas are harder to make a business case for, but also because these are also the places that got electricity and telephone through New Deal co-ops, which are often still in place.

Just about the only places in America where people like their internet service are the 450+ small towns where the local government provides fiber. These places vote solidly Republican, and it was their beloved conservative lawmakers whom ALEC targeted to enact laws banning their equally beloved fiber – keep voting for Christmas, turkeys, and see where it gets you:

https://communitynets.org/content/community-network-map

But spare a little sympathy for the conservative movement here. The fact that reality has a pronounced leftist bias must be really frustrating for the ideological project of insisting that anything the market can't provide is literally impossible.

Which brings me back to Utah, a red state with a Republican governor and legislature, and a national leader in passing unconstitutional, unhinged, unworkable legislation as part of an elaborate culture war kabuki:

https://www.npr.org/2023/03/24/1165975112/utah-passes-an-age-verification-law-for-anyone-using-social-media

For more than two decades, a coalition of 21 cities in Utah have been building out municipal fiber. The consortium calls itself UTOPIA: "Utah Telecommunication Open Infrastructure Agency":

https://www.utopiafiber.com/faqs/

UTOPIA pursues a hybrid model: they run "open access" fiber and then let anyone offer service over it. This can deliver the best of both worlds: publicly provisioned, blazing-fast fiber to your home, but with service provided by your choice of competing carriers. That means that if Moms for Liberty captures you local government, you're not captive to their ideas about what sites your ISP should block.

As Karl Bode writes for Techdirt, Utahns in UTOPIA regions have their choice of 18 carriers, and competition has driven down prices and increased speeds. Want uncapped 1gb fiber? That's $75/month. Want 10gb fiber? That's $150:

https://www.techdirt.com/2024/05/15/utah-locals-are-getting-cheap-10-gbps-fiber-thanks-to-local-governments/

UTOPIA's path to glory wasn't an easy one. The dismal telco monopolists Qwest and Lumen sued to put them out of business, delaying the rollout by years:

https://www.deseret.com/2005/7/22/19903471/utopia-responds-to-qwest-lawsuit/

UTOPIA has been profitable and self-sustaining for over 15 years and shows no sign of slowing. But 17 states still ban any attempt at this.

Keeping up such an obviously bad policy requires a steady stream of distractions and lies. The "government broadband doesn't work" lie has worn thin, so we've gotten a string of new lies about wireless service, insisting that fiber is obviated by point-to-point microwave relays, or 5g, or satellite service.

There's plenty of places where these services make sense. You're not going to be able to use fiber in a moving car, so yeah, you're going to want 5g (and those 5g towers are going to need to be connected to each other with fiber). Microwave relay service can fill the gap until fiber can be brought in, and it's great for temporary sites (especially in places where it doesn't rain, because rain, clouds, leaves and other obstructions are deadly for microwave relays). Satellite can make sense for an RV or a boat or remote scientific station.

But wireless services are orders of magnitude slower than fiber. With satellite service, you share your bandwidth with an entire region or even a state. If there's only a couple of users in your satellite's footprint, you might get great service, but when your carrier adds a thousand more customers, your connection is sliced into a thousand pieces.

That's also true for everyone sharing your fiber trunk, but the difference is that your fiber trunk supports speeds that are tens of thousands of times faster than the maximum speeds we can put through freespace electromagnetic spectrum. If we need more fiber capacity, we can just fish a new strand of fiber through the conduit. And while you can increase the capacity of wireless by increasing your power and bandwidth, at a certain point you start pump so much EM into the air that birds start falling out of the sky.

Every wireless device in a region shares the same electromagnetic spectrum, and we are only issued one such spectrum per universe. Each strand of fiber, by contrast, has its own little pocket universe, containing a subset of that spectrum.

Despite all its disadvantages, satellite broadband has one distinct advantage, at least from an investor's perspective: it can be monopolized. Just as we only have one electromagnetic spectrum, we also only have one sky, and the satellite density needed to sustain a colorably fast broadband speed pushes the limit of that shared sky:

https://spacenews.com/starlink-vs-the-astronomers/

Private investors love monopoly telecoms providers, because, like pre-bankruptcy Frontier, they are too big to care. Back in 2021, Altice – the fourth-largest cable operator in America – announced that it was slashing its broadband speeds, to be "in line with other ISPs":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/immortan-altice/#broadband-is-a-human-right

In other words: "We've figured out that our competitors are so much worse than we are that we are deliberately degrading our service because we know you will still pay us the same for less."

This is why corporate shills and pro-monopolists prefer satellite to municipal fiber. Sure, it's orders of magnitude slower than fiber. Sure, it costs subscribers far more. Sure, it's less reliable. But boy oh boy is it profitable.

The thing is, reality has a pronounced leftist bias. No amount of market magic will conjure up new electromagnetic spectra that will allow satellite to attain parity with fiber. Physics hates Starlink.

Yeah, I'm talking about Starlink. Of course I am. Elon Musk basically claims that his business genius can triumph over physics itself.

That's not the only vast, impersonal, implacable force that Musk claims he can best with his incredible reality-distortion field. Musk also claims that he can somehow add so many cars to the road that he will end traffic – in other words, he will best geometry too:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Geometry hates Tesla, and physics hates Starlink. Reality has a leftist bias. The future is fiber, and public transit. These are both vastly preferable, more efficient, safer, more reliable and more plausible than satellite and private vehicles. Their only disadvantage is that they fail to give an easily gulled, thin-skinned compulsive liar more power over billions of people. That's a disadvantage I can live with.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/16/symmetrical-10gb-for-119/#utopia

Image: 4028mdk09 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rote_LED_Fiberglasleuchte.JPG

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 3

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 7.3k this part

description: you finally soothe the uncertainty you've had surrounding going out and making a life of your own. somewhere inside, you find the bravery to finally tell zoro how you'd feel about him.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, kissing, confessions, a lil suggestive at the end

author’s note: ANDDDD SHE'S DONE!!! this was a wild 8 day long ride of writing, i'm a bit uncertain about the ending so please tell me what you thought of it!! hopefully you liked the fic, thank u so so much for reading.

The two of you emerged from the room a little while later. You’d finished cleaning up, and Zoro had kept you company as you cleaned both his swords and Hiru. The both of you walked together afterwards, wandering into the kitchen where Sanji had whipped up a meal. 

“We’re close to the Grand Line,” Nami reported, having apparently steered the ship far enough away from the other pirates to leave the helm alone. “Should reach the mountain by early morning.” She glanced over at you. “Kuraigana Island first, right?” 

“Yeah,” you affirmed. “The Grand Line is… screwed, though.”

“We’ll be fine,” Luffy said brightly. You just shrugged, taking a seat at the table. “Zoro! Did you get everything cleaned up?” Zoro had changed into a fresh shirt, one not so bloodstained, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Come and eat so we can get ready for tomorrow?” 

Sanji passed you a bowl, and you let out a thin breath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how and when this had become your norm—it’d been a week with the Straw Hats, now, and— 

You dropped your chopsticks in your hand. It’d been a week. “Fuck,” you said, the word dropping out from between your lips before you could stop them. Your entire body had gone rigid, pink flushing up your arms and face as something burned deep inside of you. 

Everyone’s heads had snapped up to look at you, matching concerned expressions on all of their faces. “I, um—” you said, scrambling up from your seat, words too big in your mouth. You opted not to finish them, dropping your sentence as you yanked your shell phone out of your jacket pocket. “Sorry, I—” 

You shook your head, hurrying out of the kitchen. The cold gust of the ocean breeze hit heavy on your face, and you let out a breath, the gust of air exhaling out of your chest in a rush. You heard footsteps behind you, but the panic hadn’t bled out of your veins entirely, and your hands shook as you tried to open your phone. 

Zoro’s hand was pressed over yours before you could snap the case open. You stared down at it, and your gaze lifted, the tremble of your hands subsiding as his warm grasp sunk deep into your skin. “What’s up?” he asked, low and steady. 

“I, um—” you swallowed hard, hitching breath soothing at his touch. “Um. It’s—I have to call my dad.” 

Zoro was serene, tone even and still. His words from before echoed around in your head, the proclamation of not having patience. It’d been untrue after all. “Did something happen?” 

“I’m supposed to have dinner with him,” you blurted. “Tonight. I’ve never missed it before. Because I’ve always been on the island, in our—I’ve never missed it before. I’ve been with you all for too long.” 

“I’m sure he’d understand,” Zoro said, though his hand didn’t fall from yours. He paused, lips parted as his eyes ran along your face. “Or is it something you’re upset about?” 

“I don’t have friends,” you whispered, words fierce. “I don’t go places. I stay at home. This life isn’t mine. It’s—” 

“I don’t think you should dictate what you do based on what your father does,” Zoro interrupted. His tone wasn’t harsh, exactly—but it was strong, tone firm, jaw set as he spoke. “So you miss one dinner. So you’re out and about for longer than a week. Does it matter?” 

Does it matter? Your heart pounded in your chest, and you took in a steady breath, trying to soothe the adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins even now. “I don’t… I’m not used to this,” you admitted, somehow managing to keep the contact of your eyes even as your brain screamed at you to look away. “I’m not used to being away from home.” 

“Everyone starts somewhere,” Zoro said. 

You hesitated. His hand moved carefully away from yours, nudging your fingers to open the phone. Your gaze dropped, staring at the little snail waiting for you inside, nestled in his little bed of velvet. You picked it up, tucking it into your ear as your shaking hands dialed Mihawk’s number. 

He answered on the first ring. “Hello there, darling,” he said, and you closed your eyes, a soft exhale leaving your lungs at his voice. “Are you calling me about dinner? I’ll be there in a few hours, I promise. Just finishing up over here.” 

“No, actually, um—” you cut yourself off, teeth coming down to halt your tongue. You opened your eyes, turning to glance tentatively over at Zoro. Does it matter? he had asked. Which… it did, right? You weren’t a part of the Straw Hats. You hadn’t joined their crew; you’d been insistent on that, pushing away any idea of a life out at sea in exchange for the comfort and familiarity of your home lifestyle. But you’d been making bonds with them despite, and helping them out with their ship, and fighting alongside them in battle. And you’d just patched up Zoro’s wounds a mere hour earlier. You didn’t make friends.

But you were making them. 

“I’m not going to dinner this week,” you said, the words all slurred as they spilled from your mouth. There was a pause of surprise on Mihawk’s line before he spoke again. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling Zoro’s gaze on you. 

“Finally departed from the nest, have you, darling?” Mihawk said. His voice was soft—tender, almost. “Very well, then. Any idea when you’ll be on the island next, or shall we keep it a suspended date?” 

“I should be home in a few days,” you said, voice hitching in your breath. “I’ll—I’ll call you! I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards, but I’ll—I’m not going to just disappear.” 

“Well, of course,” Mihawk said simply. You tightened the squeeze of your eyes, trying to suppress the tingling prickles at your waterline. “I’m glad you’re making friends, dear.” 

You made a face, letting out a breathy scoff. A defense mechanism, really. “Don’t get mushy on me, old man.” 

“Me? Mushy?” There was a staticky scoff crackling over from Mihawk’s side of the line. It was such a simple conversation, so—why was it driving you to tears? “I could never, darling, do you even know me? I’ve got to fly, anyway—there’s some pesky pirates around here I’ve got to deal with.” 

“Bye, dad,” you said, the words choking up your throat, all raggedy at the edges, too big as you shoved them up and through your mouth. They grazed your tongue, but the points weren’t edges; they didn’t draw blood. “I—um.” 

The Dracules did not say I love you. Your father was doting, certainly, but he expressed his affection in far more unspoken ways. Presents from all four Blues. A weapon of the highest caliber quality when you were thirteen. Personal lessons in sword fighting. The murder of anyone who dared send an off look in your direction. 

“Me too, little hawk,” Mihawk said simply. “Now go have fun.” 

The den den mushi let out a soft little croak, signaling that Mihawk had hung up. You let your hand fall, the fingers holding the case of your phone going slack. Air punctured your lungs as you inhaled, the salty, crisp breeze loosening your muscles with every breath. 

“Are you alright?” Zoro asked. The words were gruff, awkward. Like he wasn’t used to saying them. You tightened your grip on your case, and then tugged the snail out of your ear, setting it carefully back where it belonged. You met Zoro’s gaze, heart thudding a bit faster as you saw flickers of concern in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think I am.” 

The sun shone bright on your face, the weather of the Grand Line being more forgiving today as the ship sailed carefully through the ocean. Your route was still towards Kuraigana Island, although you were growing more split about it by the second. You’d just had a conversation with Mihawk a day or so ago about you not being at the house—and the fact that you’d have to choose whether to go home and potentially never see the Straw Hats again was a decision that gripped heavy at your heart. 

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” You glanced up to see Zoro at your side, forearms propping at the Going Merry’s railing as he gazed out at the ocean. You shrugged, eyes flickering down his side profile before falling back to your hands. 

“I don’t know,” you said. “Just thinking about what to do, I guess.” 

Zoro fixed you with a look. “You should try not doing that.” 

A startled laugh escaped your throat. “What? Thinking?” 

“It gets old,” Zoro said with a firm nod, brow slightly creased to shield his eyes from the sun. “I’d recommend dropping it for at least a few hours. You’re getting wrinkles.” One of his hands moved upwards to nudge against your forehead, and you ducked, another laugh gracing the edges of your lips. 

“Right,” you said, dubious. “How are your wounds?” 

“I’ve taken worse,” Zoro said with a shrug. “Though I guess I’ve still got that one, huh.” He grimaced, lips tugging back to bare his teeth into a scowl. It took him a while to speak again, and you turned your gaze back towards the ocean, waiting for the unspoken words to leave his lips. Minutes ticked by, but you just basked in the sun, trying to air your mind of any thoughts. Maybe Zoro had a point, there—sometimes it really wasn’t necessary to think at all. 

When Zoro finally spoke, his words were quiet; muttered under his breath. You had to strain to hear them, as the thin ocean breeze swallowed them up almost immediately. “I really thought I could beat him.” 

You huffed out a breath, unsure of what to say. Unsure if Zoro even wanted you to say anything. Your grip on the boat’s railing tightening, palm running across the soft wood. You found words falling out of your mouth anyway, though, although you yourself were surprised by them—“You can.” 

Zoro glanced up at you, surprised. “Maybe not now,” you hastened to say, not wanting to add to his clearly already-inflated ego. “But you’re good. You’re good enough to beat him, eventually. In a few years, given the proper time and training. I think…” You swallowed down the phlegm in your throat, alarmed by how wet your voice was starting to sound. You took in a breath, steadying your tone, making certain your voice wasn’t quite so thin or reedy. “I think that’s what scares me about you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zoro said, all low and hushed. You just shrugged. 

“I don’t mind,” you answered. You felt his eyes on you, burning like a sun on fire, like the stars dotting his skin were crisping over your skin, charred and burnt and broken. Or maybe it wasn’t quite so destructive. Maybe it was a tender fire, crowning a pile of wood and cared for with iron stakes, embers glowing deep in the night to keep warmth fueling a pot of soup, or healing ragged hands after a long battle. 

“Let me get you a drink.”

Zoro disappeared. He returned with a flask, handing it over to you after unscrewing its cap. You knocked it back—it was rich but bland, all dry and earthy. Sake. You’d pegged him more as a beer guy. “Thanks.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t move from your figure. It was warm, you decided then. The swordsman was vicious at times, relentless in his fight, sinewy figure slashing cuts into flesh as he sparred with his enemies. But there was a distinction behind the hot, heavy iron of those glares at the look at which he placed upon you now. You couldn’t go as far to say his eyes were tender, or soft. But they were warm. Fire was a calamitous thing, but it had its blessings. 

“Let me take you out,” Zoro said suddenly. Your entire body froze, murmurs of warmth and tingling buzzes pricking up and down your spine. Something inside you lurched—no, it didn’t lurch, didn’t have the unpleasant sensation associated with it. It was softer, burning, guttural. Like a sharp knife cutting straight through your abdomen, sliding into your stomach, prying apart the bones like they were putty. Your chest squeezed inwards, heart pulsating with soft pangs of something. Hunger; desire, maybe. Yearning. 

“Why?” you asked. Zoro just shrugged, effortlessly casual in his movements. You saw a hitch in his throat, a flicker of something in his eyes, a strain in his jaw. Not so effortless after all. “Actually, more importantly—where?” 

“I’ll figure something out,” Zoro answered. “Is that a yes?” 

You turned, glancing up at him tentatively. “I’m not used to this sort of thing,” you said carefully. Zoro just shrugged. He still looked effortless, all guarded, but you could see the tremors and quivers underneath. 

“Neither am I.” 

You pursed your lips, raising your face to let the sun glow down onto your skin. “I have a rule, though,” you said, voice lifting up, more of a tease now. There was a ghost of a smile at the edge of your words, although your mouth wasn’t shaped in one. It was hesitant, careful not to scare you, really; creeping on you inch by inch. “I can’t go out with men who haven’t beaten me in combat.” 

Zoro snorted. “I have beaten you,” he said. “But if you want a rematch—” 

“Let’s not strain your injuries too much.” Zoro let out a scoff, but it was light-hearted, laced with amusement. You just shook your head, the dawning smile at the edges of your lips now, tugging them softly upwards. “I accept a loss when I get served one. You beat me, fair and square.”

“So I get to take you out now,” Zoro murmured, words careful, hovering in the air just barely out of his lips. He turned towards you, the sun outlining his face with a soft glow of gold and orange. He didn’t smile, but there was that soft, burning look again, lips slightly parted, taking in air. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.” 

“Tonight, then,” Zoro said. “Ten. Aftercastle.” 

You spent some time contemplating what to wear. You hadn’t brought a very expansive wardrobe along with you, only the essentials, so there wasn’t much to choose from—just some shirts and pants, no dresses or skirts in the bare bones of your luggage. You eventually picked out your favorite of the grouping, sliding your signature jacket on like usual, Hiru fastened securely in its scabbard at the back. 

Zoro was waiting at the afterdeck when you arrived, dressed in a dark wrap shirt and his usual green obi. The cloth was nicer, though: his pants were missing their usual wear and tear, and his shirt looked to be made of finer cotton. “Hi,” you said, slipping up next to him. The tangerine tree’s leaves brushed at your ear, and you glanced up at it. The fruit was ripe, round and as bright orange as Nami’s hair. 

“Hey,” Zoro replied. One of his forearms was propped against the afterdeck railing, and the other wrapped around the side. You put your hand beside his, pinky just inches away from his. “Do you know any constellations?” 

“Some,” you said, squinting up at the sky. You could point a few of them out, but not many—the sky was cloudy tonight, most of the stars blocked out by dull puffs of gray and blue. “You?” 

“No,” Zoro answered. “Was never really interested in that kind of thing.” He glanced over at you. You’d turned your attention on the trees, again, plucking one of the tangerines off the branches. The tree trembled, its leaves quivering with soft swaying motions. You dug your nails into the flesh, peeling it carefully. “Why’d you just stay home?” 

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “My dad used to not let me leave. He stayed with me until I was maybe twelve, for the most part. Then he started going out more, but he didn’t want me to come. Something about it being dangerous. He dropped the ban when I was sixteen, but…” you hesitated, tucking the shredded pieces of tangerine peels in your pocket. “I just kind of stuck with it, I guess.” 

“Weren’t you lonely?” 

“Kind of.” You broke the orange in half, moving on to pick at the pith with your fingernails. You gathered that up, too, little white lines piling up in the crease of your palm. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“He always wanted me to leave, I think,” you said. “To find my own life. I was always happy staying there with him, though. Or waiting for him.” 

“You wouldn’t be abandoning him by leaving,” Zoro said. 

“Logically, I know that.” You peeled a piece of orange off from a half, offering it to Zoro. He took it, carefully pushing it between his teeth. He broke skin, a burst of piquant citrus juice dripping on his lower lip. Your eyes lingered there a moment too long, but you looked away a second later, speaking again. “I think it’s just a habit, really. I worry.” 

“I mean, he’s a Warlord of the Sea. I think he can take care of himself.” 

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” you said with a sigh. You popped a slice of orange in your mouth, sucking at the tart juice. “I don’t want him to get lonely.” 

“That’s not really your responsibility,” Zoro answered. His pinky crept closer to your hand, from where you’d returned your grip on the railing. His touch was feather-light, a soft breath of skin against skin that was there and gone again within a moment. “Did you think any more about it?” 

“I didn’t,” you said. “Took a page out of your book.” 

“It’ll come to you eventually,” Zoro said. “Like that one Shanks guy said—actually, I don’t remember the quote. Ask Luffy about it in the morning. He’ll probably go on for a few hours.” 

You snorted. “You’re kind of bad at giving advice, Zoro.” The name came easily, and you stopped, feeling the syllables on your teeth. It was comforting. Natural. 

Zoro seemed a tad bit offended by that. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered, voice defensive but not hostile. “Onto lighter topics?” 

You popped another tangerine slice in your mouth. “Like what?” 

“Nothing light about my life, so I’ve got no idea.” You snorted, choking on the orange that’d made its way halfway down the passage of your throat. You coughed, shaky laughs escaping your lips as you cleared your airways. An amused smile had perched on Zoro’s face, eyes glimmering with warmth as he watched you.

“That was unnecessarily edgy,” you protested. You finished with your tangerine, letting the pith flutter out of your palm, some of the white floss sticking. You didn’t mind it. 

“Got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” Zoro nudged you, the skin of his finger pressing fully against your pinky. This time, he didn’t move away, letting the warmth of his skin bleed into yours. 

“You never answered my question.” You raised your pinky, lifting it to brush against Zoro’s knuckle. Carefully, you slipped it into the gap of his interdigit, looping your fingers together so they were intertwined. Zoro exhaled shakily—you glimpsed his other arm moving away from the railing, lowering to his side. “Why you wanted me out here, I mean.” 

Zoro pulled up a flask, unscrewing the cap with one hand. He didn’t drink, though, just held the bottle suspended in his hand. He didn’t say anything for a while, letting the soft rush of water from below and the tranquil rocking of the boat fill the silence. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. To your surprise, though, he raised the flask to his lips, taking a short sip before letting his hand fall again. “You feel different.” 

“Care to be a little less vague?” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Zoro said carefully. His guard was up, that much was sure. You didn’t exactly blame him. “Things have changed since I joined Luffy. Sometimes I can’t describe it.” 

“The crew,” you said. “It makes sense.” 

“It does,” Zoro agreed. There was something magnetic about it, about him—something that drew you in. But you weren’t afraid of it, really. The Straw Hats weren’t scary. Their bared teeth weren’t fangs; their canines remained unsharpened at their maw. Their lure was more peaceful than that. “We like you. You fit in.” He paused, mouth slightly ajar, a tremor of something on his lower lip. “I like you.” 

Your lungs were empty, devoid of air. Something in your chest clawed at you, trying to climb up your throat, compressing your organs. Zoro’s touch burned into you, interlocked fingers searching an imprint in your skin. You were certain you’d feel it for hours; days; months; years after. “I think I like you too,” you said. 

“Well, you like my earrings,” Zoro said easily. “That’s a start.” 

You turned towards him, at his open stance, tucking yourself in the space between his figure at the side of the ship. The motion forced Zoro to raise your hands away from the railing, but he slid with the action easily, fingers fully interlacing with yours. His other arm remained propped along the ship, flask in his fingers, the skin of his forearm brushing against your side. Your free hand raised up to skim along his earrings, dull clinks of the metal sounding out at the emotion. “I do like your earrings.” 

“Enough to let me kiss you?” 

You tugged gently at Zoro’s earlobe, angling your face up to meet his. “Yeah.” 

Zoro kissed you square on the mouth, mouth full and open, hand slipping around your back. The edge of his sake flask dug into your spine, but it wasn’t a sharp pain, and you didn’t mind it. Your fingers tightened against Zoro’s, chasing his lips with yours, letting him swallow you whole. He was patient with it, smooth and languid; tongue licking into the crevices of your mouth, firm as he mouthed kisses at the lines of your lips. 

You breathed in from his lungs, chest getting tight as he sucked the air clean out of you. Still, you were addicted, utterly devoted as his fingers nudged against your hand and his tongue skimmed along your mouth. He was a good kisser, effortless and smooth, nearly elegant with his motions. He tasted like sake; earthy, woodsy, reminiscent of some sort of mushroom, maybe. It suited him well. 

You let out a little whimper as Zoro’s tongue pressed deep to your throat, and he swallowed it up, flicking lazily along the roof of your mouth. You were getting short of breath, though, so you placed a gentle litany of faint kisses along his mouth before tilting your head back and letting the night air puncture your lungs. Zoro’s pupils had gone wide, deep black swallowing the walnut of his irises. His hand pulsed against yours, steady as ever, but he didn’t speak.

“I like more than your jewelry,” you said, staring down at where your fingers tangled with his. They looked like two pieces of a puzzle, extremities manipulated to slot along each other, palms molded together. “I like the way you move, and the way you fight. I like your face.” You hesitated, playing with Zoro’s fingertips to distract you from your words. 

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro said. 

“No, I think I do.” A ghost of a smile flickered up your mouth; a corpse, really, one that had forgotten it wasn’t really dead after all. “I like you, Roronoa Zoro.” 

Zoro’s fingers squeezed tighter against yours. There was no click, no noise of finality, no settlement of a suspended thread. You supposed it didn’t work like that. Life didn’t stop and end. You went on. You’d see Zoro in the morning, again, after you’d gone to sleep, and things would continue like normal. “Okay,” he said. “Late enough for you to go to bed, yet?” 

“I could go either way,” you answered. “Staying out here wouldn’t be so bad either.” 

“Fine by me,” Zoro said, not moving from where he stood. “So, Lady Dracule. Where to next?” 

“Wherever the breeze takes me,” you answered, but there was a decision settling down in your chest. One you weren’t so afraid to look at anymore. 

Kuraigana Island was just as you’d left it, sky dark as night even in the middle of the day, rotted ground crunching dust and rocks underneath your feet. The Going Merry had docked in one of the number of homemade boat berths Mihawk had made sometime in your youth. 

Usopp let out a low whistle as the Straw Hats stepped onto the island, head practically turning around in a 180 degree spin as he craned his neck to look around. “You live here?” 

“It’s quaint,” you said defensively. 

Nami gave you a sympathetic look. “It really isn’t.”

“Why is the sky black?” Luffy murmured in amazement, casting his gaze upwards to the overhang of rumbling clouds that existed perpetually over the island. “Have you never seen sun in your life?” 

You rolled your eyes, leading them through the gravelly path up to your house. Their reactions were, well, nothing short of the expected—Sanji’s eyebrows lifted, and Zoro let out a low whistle as he took in the sight. 

“It’s like Kaya’s house,” Usopp breathed. “But… bigger. And more spiky!” 

“It needs a paint job,” Nami deadpanned. You snorted. 

“I’ve been trying to get him to renovate for forever. Good luck.” You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward as the group walked closer and closer to the house. Your footsteps slowed, until you came to a full stop a few meters off the front door. The Straw Hats grouped around you, curious. “Just… don’t be weird, please. Nami, don’t steal anything unless it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in thirty years. I only bother to polish the important stuff.” 

“Is that an open invitation to rob your house?” Nami asked with a snort.

“Do you have any food?” Luffy asked. 

“Probably not. My dad can’t cook for shit. Sanji can make something,” you said. “Our kitchen’s kinda nice.” 

“Working in a Warlord’s kitchen? I’d be honored,” Sanji said, with a little flourish of his hand. You rolled your eyes, but Luffy at least seemed satisfied. You glanced over at Zoro, who was the only one of the group who hadn’t said anything up to now—his lips were set into a thin line, but he met your gaze, and they flickered upwards just a quarter of an inch. The action was reassuring, almost, and you were soothed enough to start walking again.

The door flung open before you reached it, although the sudden motion didn’t startle you like it did to your compatriots. Dracule Mihawk stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual hat and jacket, Yoru heavy off his shoulders like usual. “I thought I heard footsteps,” your father trilled, voice wonderfully monotone as he bent in front of you, taking your hand to press a gentle kiss upon your knuckles. “Have you brought your friends along, darling?” 

“Clearly,” you said with a soft laugh. It was like all the tension evaporated from your body as soon as your father got near, and you found his hand, giving it a tight squeeze before turning to your friends. “Do you need introductions, or do you know them all already?” 

“I only remember the future pirate king and the swordsman,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Oh, and Yasopp’s child. It’s no matter, really. Well, come on in, you’re letting in the cold air.” 

Usopp stuttered something incomprehensible about his father, but Mihawk had already disappeared. You glanced over your shoulder at the rest of the Straw Hats. “He’s like that,” you said apologetically. “Just… come in.”

They followed you into the house, glancing around the lobby to take in the decor. You had to admit, a lot of it was rather gaudy, but it wasn’t like Mihawk cared much about what adorned the walls, and you had little resources to work with. Sanji made quick work moving to the kitchen after you made sure that Mihawk hadn’t prepared dinner. 

“So,” Nami said, the words mulling around in her mouth as she lounged by the kitchen island. “Nice place.” 

“It’s kinda scary-looking,” Luffy said honestly. “Interesting choice of decoration. I guess if you like it, though.” 

“Are you okay on your own for a moment?” you asked, getting up from your seat. “I’m going to go talk to my dad.” Luffy nodded, and the others all hummed their assent. Zoro caught your gaze—soft, curious. You just gave him a reassuring smile and slipped out of the room. 

Mihawk was waiting in the living room, long body stretched supine along the couch, booted feet thrown up on the arm. You narrowed your gaze at it. “Don’t put your feet on the furniture,” you grumbled. 

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, though he made no move to alter his position. “Did you end up getting that jacket for me?” 

“I did,” you said, glancing through the satchel that hung at your hip. You pulled it out, folding it with a solid shake and holding it up for Mihawk to see. His golden eyes flickered up and down the garment, taking in the material. Black cotton twill, with red paisley silk as the lining, delicate red lace at the hem and sleeves. The lapels were wide, buttons shiny and black, and it used red stitching rather than black, giving a sort of exoskeleton look to it. Mihawk sat up, pushing his hat back. 

“It’s beautiful, darling. I love it.” 

You folded the jacket in half, slinging it across the back of the sofa before moving around to face Mihawk fully. “About the crew.” 

Mihawk glanced up to meet your eyes. “Yes?” 

“I…” you took in a breath, the inhale shaky in your lungs, bones and muscles rattling in your chest. “I think I’m going to stay with them for a little while, if you’re okay with it.” 

“The Straw Hat crew,” Mihawk said carefully, shaping the words on his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. “My daughter, part of the Straw Hat crew. Well, it’s not the most terrible-sounding thing to say, I suppose.” He paused. “No idea why you’d think I wouldn’t be okay with it, though, sweetheart. I’m not horrendous.” 

“Well, I figured—” you started, voice trailing out into a protesting whine. “You’d be against them? Garp sent you after them. One of them tried to kill you.” 

“Oh, you know I don’t hold grudges over such trifling matters,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Roronoa Zoro, right? He was watching you the entire time you entered. Wouldn’t take his eyes off you, darling.” There was a particular glint in his eyes, hunted, like he was searching for a quarry. “Something to tell me?” 

“No,” you said, too fast. Mihawk lifted both brows, and you broke almost easily. “Maybe. No. He’s—no.”

Mihawk clucked his tongue, sounding amused. “I suppose your rebel streak was bound to come out eventually. And from what you told me, he did beat you, so I can’t exactly complain.” You flushed, warmth heating up your skin, bringing a rosy blush to your cheeks. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before I can fight him again, will you, little hawk? I’ve got my eye on that one.” 

“Okay, dad,” you muttered, but the tension of your shoulders had gone slack, and your muscles were loose. 

“Will you be leaving after dinner, or will you stay until the morning?” Mihawk asked, standing up to his full height. He stretched, sinewy limbs long and supple. He looked nearly odd without Yoru perched along his back. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Morning,” you answered. “I’ve missed you too, dad.” 

Mihawk smiled at you. “Go make sure our guests aren’t burning down the kitchen.” 

Dinner was less of an awkward affair than you’d expected. Usopp spoke the most through it, and Mihawk was fine to goad him on, occasionally switching topics to inquire about the rest of the crew. 

Sanji had made a fine meal; a grilled steak and onions with a side of asparagus to some kind of white sauce pasta you didn’t recognize. It felt… nice, really, having them all around you. Mihawk certainly knew how to socialize, and Luffy didn’t seem to mind his acerbic tendency. 

“And after I defeated all the enemy pirates,” Usopp was rambling on, “We hit a cannon straight into their mast, and it came crashing down! Oh, you should’ve seen it, man. It was me—well, Luffy—I guess he was the one that chucked the guy into the ship, or whatever. It wasn’t actually a cannon, but the details aren’t that important—”

“What about my little hawk?” Mihawk interrupted, and you had the vague sense to start whining. “I don’t suppose she just sat there throughout the whole fight.” 

“Oh, nah, she got some guys too I guess,” Usopp said, lazily waving an arm in the air. “She’s the one who stationed me at the cannon, she knew how great I was at it. She almost died to this one big dude—”

“I did not almost die!” you snapped. Usopp cackled out a hearty laugh. 

“No, she totally did. Thankfully for her, the great Captain Usopp came to her rescue—”

“Me,” Zoro muttered, words barely audible as he spoke them into his cup. You cracked a smile, and he glanced up, catching your eye. A tender look crossed his face. 

“Okay, yeah, it was Zoro who saved her,” Usopp admitted. “Cut the guy’s head straight off his body. But that’s just because I was busy fighting off the other pirates!” He motioned with his hands, mock-punching the air in front of him. 

Mihawk just raised his eyebrows. “Did he, now? I hope you thanked him properly for that, sweetheart.” 

You shot Mihawk a warning look. “Dad.” 

Mihawk didn’t let that faze him, raising his glass of wine to his lips. “You might want to take him around the island. There are some fairly romantic spots here, ones I brought your mother to while she was pregnant,” he said, mouth around the rim of his glass. You flushed, resisting the urge to lunge over the table at your father—clearly, he could see your vexation, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, eyes tilted downwards like there was something particularly interesting in his cup. Nami and Sanji were murmuring things to each other, and Sanji raised his voice to speak. 

“I knew there was something between the two of you! Come on, Lady Dracule, you could do so much better than the mosshead here—”  

“Shut it—” Zoro started. 

“You most certainly did not know, and you owe me fifteen hundred berry for that!” Nami said, offended. She elbowed Sanji firmly in the ribs, and he let out a low cough. Her head spun towards the head of the table, where Luffy was sitting across from your father. “Luffy, tell your cook to honor his bets.” 

“You bet on us?” you demanded, a squeak of embarrassment entering your voice as you protested. Nami gave you a look. 

“Please. You were obvious.” 

“Well,” Sanji jumped in, “Personally I thought you had better taste than—”

“I said shut it, waiter,” Zoro said, finally looking up to fix Sanji with a glare. He tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised, and you stifled a laugh. “And if I were you, I’d give Nami her money as soon as possible.” 

“This is so unfair,” Sanji muttered, but he fished a wallet out of his pocket and slapped a few bills onto the table. “There you are, madam. I hope you’re happy.” 

You groaned. “At the dinner table, really?” 

“Money waits for no one,” Nami said with a little wink, tucking her winnings carefully into a pocket of her skirt. 

“Sanji, did you make dessert?” Luffy wondered. Sanji rolled his eyes, but the sigh he let out was kind and good-natured. 

“Well, lucky for you, I did have the mind to bake some cookies while here.” He got up from his seat. You just gave him a dubious look; everyone had more or less finished with their food, though, so you got up, collecting the dishes to wash. 

You did chores, Nami hanging around you and lending her aid while the other Straw Hats got comfortable in guest rooms or whatever else. Zoro hadn’t budged from the dining room, apparently not interested in exploring the different parts of your house—you could just barely see him out of the kitchen doorway, nursing his drink as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. 

The familiar shape of your father’s jacket joined his side, and you narrowed your eyes, straining to hear. Mihawk had bent over the table, a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. He didn’t bother to speak quietly, so everyone in the near vicinity heard his words— “If you hurt her, I won’t show the mercy I did the first time. My little hawk’s more important than finding a worthy opponent.”

“Dad!” you snapped, dropping the plate you were in the middle of washing. Mihawk didn’t even look in your direction, even as you stormed out of the kitchen to stand protestingly by the mouth. “Don’t—” 

“Oh, hush, dear,” Mihawk said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m off to bed, then. I’ve got business in the morning.” He came over to you to brush another kiss along your knuckles. “I’ll be gone before you wake up. Safe travels.” 

“Good night,” you said with a sigh. Mihawk left, then, disappearing around the bend of the corner to head off to his room. 

“...I still don’t really forgive him for almost killing Zoro,” Nami said warily. Zoro got up from his seat, moving over to where the two of you had gathered in the kitchen. “But your dad’s fine, I guess. Not terrible, as far as fathers go.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, then glanced apologetically towards Zoro. “I’m sorry about him.” 

“It’s fine,” Zoro said with a careless shrug. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your room.” You nodded, drying your hands on a nearby kitchen towel and prompting Zoro to follow you up the steps. The house was large, a castle, really; all dark and winding, with long corridors and tall ceilings. Your bedroom was grand, on the second floor, with a sweeping balcony and wide windows that bore a full view of the island’s perpetual darkness. 

“What’d you say?” Zoro asked, stepping into the room. He glanced around, but didn’t remark in his surroundings, turning instead to look over at you. 

“I told him I’d be joining the Straw Hat pirates,” you said. Zoro smiled at that, the edges of his lips curling up. 

“Good,” he said simply. You moved towards him, forcing him to back up until he reached the plush of your bed. He sat down, eyes not flickering away from yours, soft brown that held an entire universe in them. Planets lined his cheeks, spatters of galaxies that you thought you might revolve inside. “Living here for years alone doesn’t seem like the most interesting life.” 

“It was fine while it lasted,” you said, bending your head down, lips hovering over his. Zoro’s hand came up to press firmly along your waist. “I think I like the ship a bit better, though.” 

“Hm,” Zoro murmured, eyes on your mouth. He tugged you down, but the kiss he pressed against your lips was chaste, and he was leaning back again before you knew it. “I decided, by the way. On whether I wanted your dad to like me or not.” 

You arched a brow, thinking back to that night so long ago when you’d first heard the words on Zoro’s lips. I’m not sure if I want him to like me. “Well?” 

“I do,” Zoro said, nudging against your chest, chin bumping along your shoulder. “It makes sense, with you.” 

A comfortable silence filled the space. His thumb ran a tender circle along the skin of your torso. “I should probably pack,” you murmured. 

“Eh, you’ll have time for that later,” Zoro said dismissively. You laughed, the sound full, straight out your throat. 

“Do I, now?” Zoro’s lip quirked, eyes grazing over your figure. You prattled on as if you didn't even notice. “Did you have something else in mind? You realize after this we have all the time in the world to be together—”

“I told you I was impatient,” Zoro interrupted, and then he was tugging you down, pressing a full kiss to your mouth again. You parted your lips to argue, but Zoro just took that as an opportunity to side his tongue in, and, well—this wasn’t so bad, either. One of your hands came to tangle in his hair, nudging his head just the slightest bit upwards to allow you better access. Zoro’s thumb didn’t stop making lazy revolutions into your skin. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled against his lips. You leaned forward, pushing him back onto the bed, before pausing to lean down and unfasten the straps of his shoes. 

“You’re a real charmer.” Zoro didn’t complain, though, seeming more than pleased when you returned to kiss him, allowing him to fall back onto your bed now that you’d shed him of his footwear. “Little hawk, huh?” 

You huffed out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s cute,” Zoro said casually, one arm coming to prop behind his head. He drank you in properly, this time, from where you were on your knees on the mattress, unstrapping your own shoes before joining him up on the bed. “You are.”

You met his eyes, and a flicker of warmth crossed over your heart. For a soft, silent moment, you let it breathe. Let it exist there. Let the realization that you may one day love this man fill your soul. 

“Come here,” you said, climbing over to Zoro even as you spoke. “I’m going to kiss you again.” 

Zoro just grinned.  

The Going Merry was just as you’d left it, although Mihawk had provided you with any extra provisions the crew might’ve wanted for the rest of your journey. You’d packed up and brought along your stuff, too, managing to finally decorate your cabin in the ship more to your likeness. Everything was ready, and you stood at the edge of the aftercastle, Zoro to your side as you stared down at the island you’d called home for all the years of your life. 

But Kuraigana Island wasn’t your only home anymore, and neither was the hawk eyed man who resided in it whenever he was not busy doing something else. Mihawk had left in the early morning, but the ghost of his presence still warmed you. This way, it was easier to let go, you thought. This way, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“Casting off!” Luffy yelled, his voice puncturing the stillness of the island air from his usual spot on the goat at the ship’s bow. You turned away from the island, jacket lapping around your legs as the wind whipped against it. 

“Ready to go?” Zoro asked carefully. 

“Yeah,” you answered, turning away from the island. Zoro stood to your left, one hand perched on the hilt of his sword, the other relaxed at his side. His brows were creased, strong against the shimmer of the glinting sun just barely peeking through the darkness of the island. 

The fog washed his features in blue, all blurry around the edges, but you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful man you’d seen anyway. 

“I’m ready.”

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

taglist: @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ellisaworld @yeonieesss @sarcastic-sourwolf @rouzuchan @dashcrashbash @blossomedfloweroflove @ fangeekkk @winuvs @katiemrty @asexualimmortal @fayetheenthusiast @freedom-kitty @ren-ni @je4nc4tb0y @dwcode @albedosfiance @13-09-01 @dimplewonie @cellgore @ shabzy1644 @applepie972 @mayo0ma @smoochesfromlevi @ csmbrainrot @intoanothermind @junieloonie @yourlocalgoose @swthrxrry @lovefooi @dailybrekker @taeriffic @xxemmarldxx @alastorswife63 @butterfliesinthenightsky @mukeovernetflix @wonuskie @mysingularitybts @sorasolarium @chaitea-69 @wishyouwere-sober @mchlist @bibi-bieber-winchester @prowkarma @loveyluv7 @hhighkey @jesssssmaybankk @threadofdestiny @hinata7346 @thevampiricprincess @wreckmyimage @prettyinsatiable @fairygirl18 @idcalol @bangtannie7 @carav4l @kookie-doughs @bluesiebirdie @endeaz @q8852p @addisonwilkins1 @louweasleymalfoy @alelovesmitski @fnlyroe @swthxrry @jamieeboulos @scarletrosesposts @jesssssmaybankk @vonpeachy @sincerely-aaronette @tsubaki3192

author's note: i also wanted to pop in and say that i'm not opposed to writing more fics/oneshots of this character and in this universe (hereafter referred to as md!reader) with zoro <3 if you guys have any requests pop them in my box when my requests are open, plus i may write some on my own time too!

© halfvalid 2023

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

03/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Birthday Boy; Rachel House; Taika Waititi; You Wear 50 Well; #RhysRadness; Stats; Watch party Reminders; Articles; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

Wow, I'm sorry all, I literally fell asleep at the computer last night and just.. didnt get up til this morning. I apparently was pretty wiped out! So tonight's recap is this mornings recap! PS: Im behind on all my messages so please dont think im ignoring you :)

== Birthday Boy ==

As you can imagine, Rhys was everywhere today, on his birthday on this side of the world! Some more stills from Uproar from Caravancarparkfilms IG

He also posted some old and new pics of our captain!

Dan Schreiber Posted a video of Rhys starting to sing My Sharona! Thanks @kiwistede for getting that over to tumblr!

Samba also gave us some more pictures!

And then there was the merstede cameo he did!

= Rachel House =

I keep wanting to post more about Rachel's new movie The Mountain but there's been so much Rhys stuff going on I keep forgetting! So here's some sweet promos for the movie that's in select showings in Aotearoa right now!

== Taika Waititi ==

Great news all! Taika got your lovely letters :)

== You Wear 50 Well ==

More tributes to the birthday boy!

@nika_market

@The_MovieDweeb

= Tumblr Highlights! =

Lots more gorgeous tributes by our tumblr sibs!

@ammdakin

@emcolbs

@illustoryart

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Stede Bonnet won #RhysRadness! As well he should! Our leading man in his major leading role. Congrats Stede!

https://x.com/adoptourcrew/status/1770823288752640358?s=20

== Watch Parties ==

= Newark, Newark =

When: Saturday 23rd March @ 7 pm GMT / 3pm EST / 12 pm PST Where: BBC iPlayer, Now TV

Hosted by @lamentus1

Extra Note: The Rhys Darby Faction Discord will be streaming it as well at 5pm GMT / 1 pm EST / 12 pm PST

​Watch Party Hashtags:

#NewarkThePlank

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== Wrecked ==

Today is the series Finale!

Times will be 10pm GMT / 5pm EST / 4pm CST / 2pm PST. Watch two episodes per day. Episodes are 21-22 minutes each. Use the following Saturday for the tags/watch if interested but not able to make this time.

Hashtags: 

#WreckedPirates

#SaveOFMD

#RhysDarbyFaction

== Fan Spotlight ==

Today's cast card is none other than our fellow crewmate Hugo Pierre Martin! He's been supporting the SaveOFMD effort for a while as well as being a part of the show's cast! Thank you @melvisik for highlighting our lovely friend!

== Stats ==

Thank you @/meowzawowza_ on twitter for these awesome stats!

== Articles ==

‘Night Court’ – ‘The Duke’s a Hazard’ Post-Mortem Interview with Rhys Darby

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies, I fell asleep last night writing so I'm gonna paste in something from our dear friend TheLatestKate today. Definitely get some rest if you can, we can all persevere tomorrow.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika==

Today's Theme: Button downs and smiles Taika Courtesy of @kiwi-taika Darby Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

As promised, links to my crossposted fics (at least as many as I could find), in chronological order.

Mother Bruce And His Baby Birds [multi-chapter]

Much That Once Was Is Lost [multi-chapter]

Nature and Nurture [multi-chapter]

The Robin Manual

Dry Drowning

Breathing

Battle Royal

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy) [multi-chapter] - apparently not crossposted??

I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts - not linked; each chapter is a new prompt, so it's too unwieldy

By the Sea, By the Beautiful Sea

Trapped

Little Thieves

Teenage Mutant Power Rangers

Choco Bombs

With a Chance

Single Dads Club [multi-chapter]

Safe House

A Walk Up the Road

He's Shorn We're Torn

Look for the Helpers

Stop! It's Fanon Time - not linked; each chapter is a new prompt, so it's too unwieldy

Jason's First Christmas

Precious Fragile Little Thing

Caring for His Boy

Carried

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) [multi-chapter]

Kitten

Choose - Lose

No Lifeguard on Duty

Shoulder to Shoulder

Listening

O'er These Mountains I Would Fly

Wishes & Dreams

Blue Eyes and Moth Wings - did not crosspost

Sunrise

Why Should a Star, a Star Ever Be Afraid of the Dark - did not crosspost

You've Always Been the Sweetest Song

Even When the Words Went Wrong

Hello from the Other Side - did not crosspost

You Are the Sun and I—

My Head Is Stripped - apparently did not crosspost in full

Catch Me

In My Arms

Chicken Bones - previously posted under a different title

Bang

With a Whimper [multi-chapter]

The End of the World

Bloody Brilliant

Collapsing Star with Tunnel Vision

Busted

Mended

Take the Spade from My Hands

Hay Is for Horses

Hidden

A Child of the Manor

To See the Stars

Yes Ma'am

Steel Blues

Resonant Frequency

Sentinels - apparently did not crosspost in full

I'm Done With Having Dreams - apparently did not crosspost in full

Oh You Drain All the Fear From Me

Emergency Contact

The Return [multi-chapter]

What's a Penny Worth

Old Blood

Hello Fadduh

Pup

A Quick Pinch [multi-chapter]

Ghost [multi-chapter]

Can't Let Me Go

The Caretaker and the Night

The Cave

Last of a Dying Breed

Write Our Names in the Wet Concrete

Professional Distance

Mr. Wayne, We Have Your Son

Fix This

White Lights / Afterglow

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Hood

And After the Storm

The End of Infinity (With You) [multi-chapter]

Sleepyhead

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

Ulcers

(S)kittish

Call From

Red to the Wrists

The Rain Again

Hey, Sister [multi-chapter]

May Tomorrow Never Come

It might be your wound, but they're my sutures

Hounded - did not crosspost in full

There's an Endless Road to Rediscover - did not crosspost in full

Nowhere Safer - did not crosspost in full

Satisfaction - did not crosspost in full

[spencers-abit-weebish]

3 Minutes and 3 Seconds

XxX

Warnings: Typical COD violence, Incorrect information about Nymphs,

The One Where: Ghost Team pair up with a Nymph to take down a crime lord and his team at a Gala event

Pairing: Ghost x Fem!Reader

A/n: I know a lot about Nymphs and Greek Mythology I swear, i just put out somewhat false information for the sake of plot

xXx

“Nymph, meet the Ghost Team, boys this is Nymph, she’s been leading the operation on Brühl for months now, so be respectful” Laswell said over the speakerphone.

Ghost team had re-grouped after their newest target Josiah Brühl made a deal with the Cartel in Mexico. Brühl was apparently not only making nuclear weapons under the table but also had created a drug that while does give you a high at first, overdosage was easy on it and killed you painfully from the inside.

“Nymph, Price and Ghost are in charge of this team, so while you’re leading this operation I still need you to play nice” Laswell said in a warning tone.

“Gosh fine mom, what’s next you’re gonna tell Osborn I’m bruising egos?” You reply sarcastically.

“Actually I’m about to call him-”

“Wait no I’m sorry I’ll play nice, please don’t tell Osborn” Laswell hangs the call up with a laugh making you sigh heavily.

“Is Osborn your superior?” Price asked.

“Osborn is my partner, he’s my hacker, and a really annoying one at that” You said causing everyone’s phones to go off at the same time with an annoying alarm. “Okay I’m sorry you’re a delight!” You yell taking your phone out of your pocket tossing it onto the table causing it to turn off along with everyone else’s.

“Osborn?” Soap leaned forward looking at your phone. A picture of you and Ossy appeared on the screen. He was sitting at his computer and you had your arms tossed over him winking at the camera.

“Ossy get off my phone” You said causing your phone to shut off. “He’s also a bit of a prankster” You inform as you grab your phone pocketing it.

“So they call you Nymph” Ghost states. You look up at him meeting his greasepaint gaze, you tilted your head to the side almost in familiarity and fondness.

“Yes sir” You state proudly. You loved your call sign.

“Why?” He asked curiously.

“My First mission out of basic training I was trailing an enemy ship underwater and I held my breath for 18 minutes before taking each person out one by one, second mission I was in a jungle taking out Russian-soldiers from the trees, third mission I was undercover at a Russian auction and they had ‘hired me’ to perform before the auction. My call sign was almost Siren because of that mission but Ossy recommended Nymph and my team associated that with me more. Nymphs are creatures of any aspect of nature and some are associated as Sirens, I’m a creature of whatever nature you put me in. I'm a nymph” You shrugged.

“Her most impressive mission was in the mountains of Serbia, caused an avalanche with just her voice taking down a terrorist group” Price said making you grin proudly.

“Do you usually work alone?” Rodolfo asked.

“Most of the time it’s just me and Osborn, but I have my own team that I usually lead. My captain, Castagnoli, mainly does solo missions so since I’m his Lieutenant I’m usually in charge, obviously when I’m solo as well Os is left in charge” You explain. The team is left with well impressions of you.

“If that’s all I’d like to regroup tomorrow so we can come up with a game plan, Brühl’s second in hand is throwing a Gala in a few days and I want us there” You state. Price nods his head gesturing for the boys to leave.

“Uh could one of you guys show Nymph to her room, it’s right down the hall from Vargas and Parra” Price said.

“Come with us preciosa, we got you” Alejandro said. You smile grabbing your bag following the two Mexican men out.

“We’re having dinner around 2000 if you wanna join us” Gaz offered as you all walked out the room.

“In the mess hall or out the base?” You asked.

“Out the base, there’s a nice grill down the road from the base” Soap added.

“Sure thing, I’ll meet you guys in the commons” You smile. The task force leaves you with the two Vaqueros to take you to your room.

The team waited for you in the commons. You walked in wearing normal jeans and a cropped hoodie with boots. You had your holster attached around your waist with a glock in it and your badge on a chain attached to your dog tags.

"You always walk around showing off your package?" Alejandro asked gesturing to your gun.

"You guys don't?" You asked causing everyone to lift their shirts showing the gun tucked into their jeans. "You all look like some sort of bootleg street gang walking around with your glocks in your pants" You teased causing Ghost and Price to lift their boots on a couch and show the small pistols they had on a holster in their boots. "Except for them"

xxx

"Tell me what I need to know" You said. You sat at the bar with Price while the rest of the boys had split off to either play pool or darts.

"Sergeant John 'Soap' MacTavish, he's pretty introverted at first but once he gets close to you outside the field he'll never shut up," Price starts gesturing to the Scott with a mohawk playing darts with Gaz.

"In the field though?" You ask

"He's very focused, will rarely talk outside of the mission and if he does, usually means he's nervous and needs to calm down. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, he's probably one of the most normal ones, typical extrovert but when it comes to business he gets down" Price said taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm assuming all your men do?" You asked.

"They're not all mine, Vargas and Parra are Vaqueros from Mexico, they're in the Mexican Army, came with some of their men after Brühl started working with one of the cartels down in Mexico. Alejandro is the Colonel of his team and Rodolfo is his second in command" Price explained. The two hispanic men were playing pool with Ghost, severely getting their asses handed to them by the Brit.

"What about skull face?" You asked.

"Ghost? Not much I'm allowed to tell you, you're gonna have to find that one out on your own" Price said.

You made eye contact with Ghost for a moment. You could swear that you recognize those eyes.

"His file didn't have his government name, is that classified?" You asked.

"Yes and no at the same time, it's hard to explain, like I said there's not much I'm allowed to tell you. Not because it's classified but out of respect to him, If anything you might get more information about him out of Soap" Price said. You hum to yourself eyeing the 6'2" British man.

You down the rest of your drink before jumping off the bar stool. Price watches as you make your way over to the pool table talking to the men there. Alejandro laughs setting a hand on your upper back, out of respect. Rodolfo hands you a cue stick making you smile as Ghost sets the table up.

"We doing teams?" You ask.

"You're on my team" Ghost states.

"You sure hermano? I don't mind teaming up con la princessa" Alejandro says his hand still on your back.

"I'm sure" Ghost says. You smile over at him as you lean over the table, you were breaking.

When it was Rodolfo's turn you stood back standing next to Ghost. You look up at him tilting your head as he looked down at you.

"Anyone tell you you have a staring problem" Ghost says.

"So do you" You say making him look away. "You have really pretty eyes" You tell him. He only hums in response making you smile.

You and Ghost won the first game easily. The two of you traded spots with Soap and Gaz the pair wanting to test their skill against the cowboys. You played a round of darts with Ghost, not much talking done and no one was really keeping score. Something about his presence though comforted you.

"Can you tell me anything about yourself Ghost?" You ask tossing a dart to the board hitting dead center. The game was pretty boring since you and Ghost both constantly got bullseyes.

"Did my file not tell you enough?" Ghost asked.

"I think we both know almost everything about you is redacted, should've just printed on black paper with the amount of black ink on those pages" You say.

"I could say the same for you Nymph" Ghost lifts the bottom of his mask to take a drink from his bourbon. You notice a small scar right at his jawline making you tilt your head. "You're staring again"

"Not sorry, you're very attractive" You smirk throwing your last dart before going to collect them.

"I'm wearing a balaclava, you think I'm attractive?" He asked.

"Got a problem with that LT?" You asked.

"Not at all Pet" Ghost says. You could hear the smirk from behind his mask. Your mind raced as you chuckled shaking your head

When the team regrouped to eat dinner you sat in between Rodolfo and Ghost.

"Why do you do so many solo missions Nymph?" Soap asked grabbing a chip from the basket in the center of the table.

"Less colateral, not to mention I lead a team of men so half the time the missions that are given to my Captain and I don't require a full team and are something one person can handle in a day or two, don't want to waste my boys' times when they could be at home with their families" You explain.

"So you drown yourself in work so your team can have breaks?" Gaz asked.

"I don't have a life outside of work," You shrug, "My parents were shit, they cut ties with their families, all my siblings are assholes, most of my friends lost contact after high school, so I decided to go into the workplace that kept me the most busy, and paid well" You say nonchalantly.

"What about your boys?" Price asked.

"My three sergeants are all married, one of them has a family, pretty big one too, I try to bother him the least, one of them only married so his partner could get benefits but they're good, the third one is freshly married so I want him to spent time with his girl. As for my private he pretty much lives on base training unless I need him. I guess you could say he's my padawan" You smile taking a drink from your whiskey sour.

"Padawan?" Gaz asked.

"Star Wars? You know? Jedi- Padawan" You say. All the boys shake their heads. "None of you have seen star wars? Oh we're fixing that later" You tell them.

"So how did you and Osborn meet?" Alejandro asked.

"I met him not too long after getting out of basic training, purely by luck him and I met online on some game before meeting in person. He’s the one that put in a good word for me to my Captain. I was one of the first people in the Underground Team” You explained.

“You guys are called the Underground team?” Gaz asked.

“We deal with a lot of lesser known crimes, too advance for the FBI not advance enough for you guys, we work with the CIA a lot” You explained.

“You- little Nymph, are a very impressive lassie” Soap says festering to you with his drink before taking a sip for it. You smile tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from someone like you” Yoh tell him.

“Someone like me, Bonnie look around, you’re just as badass as us, very rarely do we go on solo missions taking out men twice our size, I mean Ghost right there is over a foot taller than you probably and I don’t doubt you could take him out before any of us could react” Soap said. Ghost tilted his head at the Scott causing the man to shut his mouth. You chuckle looking at the masked man next to you who looked down at you before he reached for his drink lifting his mask slightly.

“I don’t doubt it either L/n” Ghost says softly to you before taking a sip of his drink.

xxx "Courtesy of Osborn these are everyone's new identities, I want you to memorize them front to back, Alejandro and Rodolfo are brothers from mexico, you guys are supposed customers of the cartel and want to buy the new drug. Gaz you can do an american accent so you're a tourist that caught wind of the drug and want some. Soap and Price you guys want weapons" You said handing out the files. "Ghost, since you're faceless you're my bodyguard, I am a german crime lord and I want my hands on both the drug and the weapons"

"I thought you've interacted with Brühl and his men before" Soap said.

"I have, plenty of times" You stated.

“So Brühl and his team know what you look like?” Ghost asked “Oh baby,” you said in a patronizing voice, “Don’t you know Nymphs can change their appearances?” you chuckle.

The day of the mission the entire team met up at the air strip where a plane was waiting for them.

The men all waited for you seeing as you were the last one left. Soap was the first to see you stopping what he said as he smacked the person nearest to him which happened to be Ghost, and caught everyone’s attention.

You wore an elegant black gown with lace sleeves and a slit up to your upper thigh. You had black strappy heels and silver jewelry to compliment the look. Your makeup while to most would seem simple you definitely looked different the usual, and the dark lace front wig you wore with a beautiful hairstyle definitely helped your change in appearance.

“Just to be sure you’re Nymph right?” Gaz asked making you giggle.

“Yes, glad to see you all clean up nicely” You smile.

Alejandro and Rodolfo both wore matching white suits. Alejandro had red accents while Rodolfo had blue. Price had settled for a normal black and white suit while Soap wore a black dark green set with a black shirt. Gaz had a dark blue set and appropriately enough, Ghost wore an all black suit matching your all black attire.

“Hey Lieutenent, wear this” You said tossing him a black mask. The Lieutenant gave you a funny look until you placed a black fedora on his head before boarding the plane.

“Hey look, we’re matching” Gaz said gesturing to the blue fedora he had on. Ghost rolled his eyes following after you the rest of the team on his trail.

“Here’s the game plan, all of us have to arrive separately from each-other in about 10-30 minute intervals. Ghost and I will go in last due to Brühls men knowing me if anything goes wrong at least all of you will be in there. Rodolfo y Alejandro I want you two to go in first. Soap you go in after them then Gaz then Price. This is a gala that’s open to the public so be careful with what you say, we don’t wanna cause any harm to civilians we just want Brühl, his second in command Morgenthau, and the Cartel leader Torres, we need at least all three of them alive. Now is everyone strapped?” You asked.

All of them men flashed you their concealed weapons. Price had his tucked into the suit the black gun blending it with the tuxedo. Alejandro and Rodolfo had their tucked into their waist under the vest and suit jacket. Gaz and Soap both had theirs on a holster around their ankle causing you to look over at Ghost. He lifted up his pant leg showing you the gun on his ankle. He opened his suit jacket showing the gun he had blending in with his inner suit and opened his vest showing the collection of knives he had in here along with the two he had tucked up his sleeve held in place firmly by his gloves.

“I like this one” You smile gesturing to the man sitting across from you.

“You packing too hermosa?” Rodolfo asked. You moving the slit of your dressed to your covered thigh showing the assortment of knife and the one gun you held.

“Not to mention the amount of shit I can stuff in this dress” You said pulling out a taser, a knife, a lighter, and handcuffs.

“I want to say that’s kinky but I’m a little scared” Alejandro says making you smile.

“Everyone remember their names and identities?” You ask putting away everything you had concealed.

"Yes Ma'am" Everyone said nodding their heads. You look over at Ghost who gives your a nod.

When you guys landed you each took separate cars to the gala. While you drove Ghost changed into the mask and fedora you had given him. You looked away when he took off his balaclava out of respect but couldn't help but ask.

"We know each other don't we?" You asked.

"Come again?" Ghost asked.

"You're the only one on the team that knows my name Ghost, cause I know damn well that my file redacted my government name. Not to mention I recognize those beautiful eyes anywhere" You smile glancing over at him not that he had put on the black mask and hat. Some of his dirty blonde hair peaked under the bottom of the hat making you grin as you look back at the road.

"Yeah we do know each other" Ghost said after a beat of silence.

“We were in basic training together, when we first started”

“I remember, you were one of the fastest to complete the obstacle course” He says.

“Yeah, you were really impressive too, it’s no surprise you ended up here”

"I could say the same for you, working solo missions, leading teams, you were made for that" Ghost said making you blush. When you parked at the Gala event Ghost got out first opening your car door for you. He held his hand out taking the keys from you before helping you exit the car. He pulls you closer to him pressing your chest against his.

"It's good to see you again Simon" You said softly running your hand to the back of his neck.

"I could say the same to you Y/n" You could hear a smile in the way he spoke.

"Nymph we're in, where are you and Ghost" Price said over the comms.

"Walking in now" You said. The two of you went through security and put your names into the guest list before entering the ballroom. At the front was a grand stage where a small band was performing.

"Tell me what you know" You said with a smile as you grabbed a champagne glass from a waiter.

"All the men with name badges that are gold are men of Brühl's, you missed it but Morgenthau was just on stage earlier before leaving through the double doors behind the stage with Torres" Gaz said.

"Any sign of Brühl?" You asked

"No Ma'am" Soap responds

"Probably hiding in the back" Ghost said.

"He is, I got two addresses already on locations for me to pick up some weapons, Brühl said he and his men would meet me there on the condition that I showed up with my men" Price said holding up a card that you saw from across the room before he tucked it into his suit.

"Rudy and I already have a meeting with them in about 15 minutes to get some drugs, you guys just have to get the weapons and we can get the rest of our men down here" Alejandro said. You watched as Rodolfo smiled and shook hands with one of Brühl's men before the soldier walked into the backroom. Alejandro and Rodolfo looked over at you nodding.

"There's not that many men out here, I reckon we can take all of them out while Vargas and Parra are in the back" Soap says.

"I can take the three by the side" Ghost says

"I have my eye on the two by the stage" Soap says.

"Calm yourselves boys, I don't doubt there's more around here somewhere, have some fun and mingle with the guests while I think of something" You said handing Ghost your champagne glass before walking into the dance floor.

Ghost wasn't too far behind you after dropping the glass with a random waiter. Right as the song changed you felt Ghost grab your hand his other landing on your waist.

"What are you doing LT?" You asked

"Blending in, mingling," Ghost stated plainly.

"This feels familiar" You chuckle softly.

"Lucky, how come Ghost gets to dance with Nymph" Soap whines as he invited a random girl to the dance floor. Gaz and Price follow as the five of you watch Alejandro and Rodolfo get invited into the back. Ghost notice you tense up as you quickly start looking around.

"Calm down, you'll get us caught boss" Ghost whispers in your ear. Somehow the way he pressed himself closer to you did manage to not only calm you down, but your attention was focused on him.

Those pretty eyes you first saw your first day of basic training after he had pinned you to the ground but offered you a hand up. The same eyes that looked up at you when he was lying at the end of the obstacle course out of breath while you had barely broken a sweat. The same pretty eyes you lost in the crowded as Osborn had finally taken you under his wing and took you away to join him.

"Osborn" You said as you looked up on the stage. There you saw Osborn, in a grey suit softly singing while playing the guitar at the front of a band of CIA agents. You caught his eyes causing him to smirk at you and nod down. You catch the black fairy brooch on his suit making you look around.

"I have a plan" You said dragging Ghost off the dance floor.

"What where are we-"

"I need all my eligible bachelors to find a girl wearing a black fairy brooch, they're Osborn's girls" You smile.

"You work with Osborn?" You heard Soap ask the girl he was dancing with. You heard a giggle in response as Soap left the dance floor. Just as the song ended Price and Gaz had both found girls with Fairy brooches.

"We got the drugs, and we heard your orders ma'am, Alejandro and I got ourselves two lovelies fairies" Rodolfo said.

"Good, now pretend to be drunk and take your girls into a private area, but make sure guards see and follow you guys" You said as you start giggling and dragging Ghost with you. You caused him to bump into one of the two guards posted by the front doors as you dragged him thought a set of double doors into an empty staircase where another guard was posted at the second level. "Watch out for more guards in your private areas" You whispered leaning against the wall pulling Ghost closer to you.

Ghost pinned you to the wall both hands on either side of your head.

"This feels increibly familiar don't you think" Ghost whispers in your ear causing a shiver to go down your spine.

"Nostalgic even" You respond your arms going to his shoulders and down his chest.

"Hey you can't be in here" The guard in the second level shouted as he came down the stairs. The doors behind Ghost opened as both guard had followed you and Ghost.

"We got them Private" One of the guards said as you giggle pulling Simon closer to you lifting your right leg up to his hip. His hand crawled up your thigh while yours went into his vest.

"Not yet" You whined in a whisper, as if it was cue for Ghost.

"Hey get out of-"

Ghost shoved the guard off him causing the private to come down the stairs. You mounted the private's shoulders with ease leaning forward flipping him off the stairs pulling taser out of your dress pressing it to his throat. You threw Ghost's knife at one guard before he could grab his weapon causing him to drop his gun and walkie. Ghost bashed his head into the railing knocking him out cold before he put the last one in a choke hold until he passed out.

"I think he's out Pet" Ghost chuckles looking down at you as you still had a taser pressed to the Private's neck.

"Oops" You giggle.

"Nymph and I took down three" Ghost said helping you off the ground.

"Only three? Psh I got seven" Soap said cockily.

"I saw, the fairy did most of the work, lets just say she can't come out to the dancefloor without getting some stares" Gaz said.

"i was going to say minimal death cause Ghost and I only knocked our men out" You said taking Ghost back out to the dance floor.

"We knocked them out with our girls" Alejandro said. You watched him grabbing a drink with the girls his arm wrapped around the faerie's waist.

"No my girl drew blood, but she's wearing red so it's okay" Gaz said. You watched him dabbing a paper on his fairies dress causing you to chuckle.

"Mine is bloody as well," Price said meeting up with Soap, both farie's wearing the task force's jackets.

"Men, meet the Black Faires, Osborn's own personal team of assassins" You said walking up to Alejandro and Rodolfo and their farries. The rest of the team walked up to you guys all of you grouping around the buffet tables.

"We need a distraction so you guys can all invade Brühl and his men in to the back" You said grabbing a glass of champagne.

"Did you forget we still have guards on the main floor" Price said.

"We have more farie's sir" His Black Fairy said gesturing to the fairy brooch she wore.

"Here Boss, lay your plan out to Osborn and The Fairies. You men, need to wear these, so the other girls don't try to kill you" Alejandro's Fairy handed you a comm as she took fairy brooches out of her clutch.

"Pretty" Soap compliments. Ghost just sighs heavily as he clips the brooch to his suit.

"Anymore stupid things I have to wear?" He asked making you smack him.

"Fairies will kill you Si, watch your mouth" You said earning weird looks from the men.

"Okay team, here's the plan" You said into the comm the fairy had given you, "Osborn and Black Fairies, I want you to meet the Ghost Team, they're the only men besides Ossy wearing fairy brooches so everyone else you see as a threat is free game. We need to take down Brühl and his men tonight. Ghost, Alejandro and Rodolfo stay on the floor. I want the rest of Ghost Team and their fairies to take down the backroom behind the stage, fairies you scout the rest of the building for anymore threats. We have Vaqueros and Bravo Soldiers on their way here in less than 10 minutes waiting for my cue to come in but under no circumstance can we disturb the civilians" You said.

"Sorry Boss but we're gonna need a distraction to get those boys into the backroom" A random fairy said over the comm. You looked around quickly before looking at Osborn on the stage. He makes eye contact with you glancing down at the violin on its stand.

“I can give you 3 minutes and 3 seconds” You said with a smile pulling out the handcuffs from your dress handing them to a fairy.

“What the hell does that mean?” Ghost asked.

“3 minutes take it or leave it” You said taking off the comm. You grab his hand leading him to the stage.

“I mean I usually last way more than 3 minutes but I guess I’ll take it” He shrugs making you laugh as you gesture for the team to split up and take their positions.

"Do what you do best Ghost" You said pulling black Balaclava out from your dress. He takes the fedora off putting on the balaclava before taking off the other mask.

"Everyone ready?" You asked

"Ready" You heard a chorus of men say.

Osborn smiles grabbing your hand leading you onto the stage catching the audience's attention. Osborn hands you a violin and you take if gracefully before walking up to the mic. You watch as all the men are in position Faerie's waiting for the cue to leave the main ballroom area.

Your eyes drop down to Ghost who's still next to the stage slowly backing away as you mute the comm in your ear as to not kill them. Without another word you place the bow down on the strings striking the first chords, the pianist accompanying you as Osborn and the others distract the audience into clapping along.

"Years ago, when I was younger,

I kinda liked a boy I knew" You sang into the mic with a wide grin on your face. "He was mine, and we were sweethearts, that was then, but then it's true"

"I'm in love with a fairytale Even though it hurts 'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed" You belted before lifting the violin up once again. You had the crowded so enamoured that no one noticed the numerous guards being taken down and dragged off. Ghost himself almost forgot to stay on task if it wasn't for you smiling over at him as you played the violin.

xxx

"Fuck you Simon" You spat as the two of you stood out in the rain.

"You already did Pet" Simon argues

"One job, I asked you to do one simple job, I was leading that team, It was my turn but no, Big Bad Simon Riley can't stand taking orders from a girl" You said sarcastically while punching his chest.

"Its not taking orders from a girl that I have a problem with sweetheart, it's taking orders from you"

"Why, why is it so hard for you to listen to me, the rest of the team had no problem doing it" You ask pushing your mess of wet hair out of your face.

"How am I supposed to take orders from the same woman who quivers at my touch, everytime you're in a position of power sweetheart I just think of how you whimper every time I have my hands on you" Simon smirks causing you to turn beat red. You bite back a grin before you crack and start chucking.

"You horny mother fucker" You giggle

"What can I say love, you bring it out. I'm sorry I didn't listen to your orders, I prom ise from now on when you're in charge I am but your most loyal guard"

xxx

"I'm in love with a fairytale Even though it hurts 'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed" You smile widely as you continue with the violin. All the guards out in the dancefloor had been taken care of along with some cartel members Alejandro and Rodolfo recognized from the backroom. Ghost stood to the side of the audience admiring you as everyone completely ignored whatever violence could be heard from the backroom.

"He's a fairytale, yeah Even though it hurts 'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind I'm already cursed" You finished off with the violin before dramatically dropping your arms with a bright smile. The audience cheers as you turn your comms back on. You smile kissing your hand as Osborn goes to help you off the stage. Ghost reaches you quickly holding a hand out for you. You grin taking it walking down the steps of the stairs. You whip your phone out of your dress dialing Laswell's number as you walk into the backroom with the three men.

"Bring 'em in, we got them" You told Laswell with a proud grin as you still gracefully held onto Ghost.

"Hündin" Josiah spits at you.

"Tschüss dummer Junge" You blow him a kiss as Bravo Team enters from all different kinds of doors taking away Josiah, Torres, and their men. You sigh feeling like a big weight was lifted off your shoulders.

"So, you two have some explaining to do" Soap says gesturing to you and Ghost.

"Hündin, saug meinen schwanz," You say.

xxx

"You were amazing up there" Simon said handing you a drink. You two sat in an empty corner of a bar the team celebrating the big win tonight. Most of you all were still in the attire you wore to the gala, yourself included.

"You were amazing yourself, you didn't even need the full 3 minutes" You smirk. Simon chuckles tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I still promise you I can last much longer than 3" Simon says

"I believe you soldier, can't count the amount of nights I've stayed up thinking about the hours of sleep I lost from your stamina" You say resting your hand on his forearm.

"I missed you Nymph"

"I missed you more Ghost"

"Think my new callsign should be Fairytale, Pet, judging by that little performance you put on for me" Simon teases

"Im your dreams Ghost" You laugh. Simon only chuckles winking at you as he takes a sip from his drink, you followed the action shaking your head as the sour drink goes down your throat.

"C'mon, let's beat the boys at pool again" You giggle getting up from your seat.

"After this" Simon grabs your bicep pulling you into the hallway the bathrooms were in.

He lifts his mask just above his nose grabbing you by the back of your neck. He hold you there for a moment, your breaths mingling together before he finally pulls you into him locking his lips with yours. He pushes himself closer to you trapping you between him and the wall. You feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip but you didn't give in until you felt his hand crawling up your bare thigh squeezing just above your holster. You moan as your hand goes down his chest undoing the first few buttons before you lightly pushed him away chuckling at your smeared lipstick. You glanced at the clock behind him giggling.

"Best 3 minutes and 3 seconds of my damn life, right Lieutenant?" You asked pulling him back to you.

"Damn right Lieutenant" Simon chuckles pulling you into another fiery kiss.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Haunted

“Oh, I'm holding my breath

Won't lose you again

Something's made your eyes go cold”

Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Part 4/6, Bucky’s closer to figuring out the truth, and you haven’t thought about what’s his name in days.

Warnings: Nightmares and fluff.

Bucky watched as soft snores fell from your open mouth. Apparently today drained you, he understands, he feels like he just got hit by a truck. Everything is gone, everyone is gone, he doesn’t know how it happened. How did a lifetime disappear?

Bucky had plans, now there’s no chance they’ll ever happen. Him and Steve were gonna buy houses side by side when the war ended. Raise families together, bring up children together. But he doesn’t know if Steve even remembers him; he’ll find out tomorrow.

His eyes slowly drift closed, then he hears the front door swinging open. His body jerks, he looks left and right and you’re no where to be seen. Gusts of wind are blowing piles of snow through the door, he jumps up, looking up to the empty loft, the bathroom doors open and the lights off. You’re gone.

He feels a hand on his shoulder but when he turns around no one’s there. All of the blood in his body was now pounding through his ears, like a deafening throb. He runs outside, determined to find you. He quickly throws his right arm up, shielding his eyes from the shards of ice falling from the sky. The snow was relentless on the mountain.

Bucky squints into the dark woods, he swears he hears someone, but they’re too far away to make out what they’re saying. He bravely steps into the abyss in search. “Help, please, is anyone out there?”. The persons voice becomes clearer. Bucky is running through the woods, one boot in-front of the other. With the storm coming down it feels like that night he found the cabin.

A familiar pain of cold air stabbed at his lungs. He can’t see a thing, the moon bounces off some patches snow but the storm clouds make it an impossible labyrinth of trees. “Hello, can you hear me?” He bellows out, hopeful.

Bucky’s breaths sharpen, and for a second he hears someone else’s deeps breaths. He stops his trekking through the snow, turning his body in a full 360 degrees. Any moment now something would pop out at him. “Is there anyone out there? Where are you?” He tries one more time to make contact with whoever was calling out.

He hold his breath, and stands completely still, keeping the snow from crunching under his feet. He’s all alone, or so he thought. “Buck.” He whips his head around to see his friend reveal himself from behind a tree. “Steve?” Bucky can’t believe it, how did he get here so quick from New York? It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since the call with Darcy.

“How did you get here so fast? What is going on? I met this girl, she tried to convince me you were frozen in ice for 70 years.” Bucky starts rambling. Steve just stoically stands there, face devoid of any emotion. Bucky’s relief starts to fade “Steve? What’s wrong?”.

It was as if the man didn’t see Bucky. He was looking right at him, but he was unwavering in his stance. “How could you?” He finally speaks up, but it doesn’t sound like him. Bucky’s brows furrow, “How could I what?”. He takes a step back, distancing himself.

Steve drops his gaze, slowly shaking his head. “All those innocent people. Brutally killed in their homes, in their cars, in-front of the world, you’re have no shame.” Bucky’s face contorts in horror. He would never, he has never, and he could never do that. “Stop, I have no clue what you’re talking about. Steve, you’re starting to freak me out.”

Steve lunges forward, reaching out. Bucky doesn’t let him get close enough before he breaks out in a sprint. “Steve! Please, just tell me what’s going on.” Bucky runs faster than he ever had before. Steve is right on his heels. His feet stutter under him and it causes him to crash into the thick snow, spitting out chunks on snow and dirt.

He rolls over to his back, his chest rising and falling, causing cloud of fog to emit from his mouth. Steve stands over him, raising his shield above his head, “Why Buck? Why didn’t you just die?”.

Bucky’s eyes widen as he watches Steve release his weapon, letting it fall down to slice him. He feels the ground beneath him start to rumble and then everything goes black. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes in this dark realm. When he opens them, he’s back in that cozy little cabin, you’re curled up under a heavy blanket. The golden lamplight made your skin glow. It was warm, and the tv quietly played the third Princess Diaries movie.

He reaches up with his right hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes, but he’s met with beads of sweat on his brow. That dream felt real, all of them till now felt like he was floating.

He stares out the window behind the tv. Watching as the snow rapidly falls; as the sun comes up and you start to rise. He’s in shock, why was Steve talking about innocent people? Why was Steve blaming him? That wasn’t the Steve he knows.

If he’s honest with himself, he was terrified. He didn’t see a soul behind his friends eyes. It was like Steve was a shark who just smelled blood. His heart continues to race as you rise from the couch, stretching your tired limbs. “Hey.” You say awkwardly. You don’t know what to say, you’d never had just a sleepover with a guy. Even under these circumstances you feel embarrassed by your puffy faced state.

Bucky looks up to your comforting presence, and he feels his nerves begin to relax. “Hey.” He replies. “Are you alright, you’re as pale as a ghost.” You say, waking into the kitchen to boil water for coffee. To you, the cabin was freezing, no golden warmth like how Bucky saw it.

He nods his head at your question. “Just a bad dream.”. Now it’s your turn to nod, “We still have a while until we hear any news from Darcy, it’s still night there.” You say, emptying left over grounds into the trash.

Bucky stands, holding his left arm close, “Anything I could do for you?” He says yawning. “I wanna earn my keep, I feel like I’ve been intruding too much on your space, the least I could do is make myself useful.”

You stop mid pour, you’d never had a man be so thoughtful. Your ex just knew how to take and never give; it was exhausting. “Um, firstly, would you like a cup of coffee Sargent?” You smile, sliding a blue coffee cup across the counter.

Bucky sips the dark liquid, the roasted flavor reminding him of early mornings with his ma. He sucks on his teeth, “Sounds nice coming from you, if I’m honest.” Bucky liked the way Sargent rolled off your tongue, like it was meant to be patronizing, but it sounded genuine.

If your cheeks weren’t already pink from the cold, Bucky would definitely be able to see the blush that overtook your whole face. “Like I said, I appreciate and respect a man in uniform.” You flirt back, unashamedly.

Bucky chuckles, finishing off his mug. “Seriously though, anything I could do?”. You look past him into the living room. The black stove sat in the corner, unused. “We need wood if we’re gonna warm this place with something other than space heaters.”

“That is all you had to say.” Bucky walks back into the living room, and pulls his blue coat over his arms. “I think I seen an axe out there somewhere.” He smiles walking towards the door.

“Wait, your arm looks hurt, are you sure you should be chopping wood?” You say in concern. Bucky watches your worried eyes fall to the arm he cradled, he noticed the nervous pitch in your voice. “If I don’t, who will? Can’t let you go out and do it, not on my watch.” He says, letting you know he’s too much of a gentleman.

You’re starting to lose count on how many times this man had surpassed your expectations. You know he’s just being old fashioned, if anything you should be offended. A woman could chop wood just as good as a man. But you just knew Bucky meant it differently, like you shouldn’t have to break a sweat, chopping wood was beneath you. He’ll bare the cold for the both of you.

You watch through the kitchen window as Bucky swings the axe with one arm, he doesn’t miss once. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way his hair fell in his face, making his perfect appearance look more disheveled.

Maybe you shouldn’t be checking him out, it’s not like you should be moving on so quickly. You need to find yourself before you get wrapped up in another person. You don’t even know your favorite flavor of ice cream, and there’s hundreds of flavors you haven’t even tried yet.

You want to help Bucky, but you’re putting yourself first, no matter what happens. If it gets too hairy or too serious, you’re out. You just want to be a good person, and good people don’t drool over their house guests. On that note, you walk over to the wood burning stove, opening the rusted door, you find a box of matches sitting on top. You light one and burn what dry wood was left from the previous owner. You needed hot coals to keep the fire going on the snow moistened wood Bucky was chopping.

You hold your cold fingers up to the cracking flames, it’s like blood was rushing back to the frost bitten tips. You close your eyes for a second to bask in the warmth you’d created for yourself, and then you hear a distant whooshing, you look out of the window to see the trees thrashing violently; snow blowing everywhere.

Bucky comes bursting through the door, axe in hand. “What is a helicopter doing all the way out here?”

[icy-watch]

That was so cute and wholesome. Aaaaah.

Um. Yeah. Just me crying over here.

I'm not really sure what to expect of the next season, but I was told it's called Master of the Mountain.

No idea what that could really mean, but I'm guessing there's a mountain and some guy who's the master of it. And that's really about all I have.

So, since this is the end of Prime Empire, I'll be watching the shorts tomorrow that explain some things. So, a chill day tomorrow. Until then!

Correct and incorrect predictions under the cut.

Correct

Unagami is one of the people in charge? Or an AI? Unagami is an AI and he was in charge.

Milton Dyer created Unagami. Yes.

The ninja will listen to Okino as he helps them thru Terra Kerana. They did, and Lloyd got a new dad.

Okino became more cognizant while he was with the ninja. He's also going to Go Thru It. He learned so much, and he gained so much more. Gained more Trauma, that is.

Unagami is an AI that gathered some consciousness. He did.

Unagami wants to go to Ninjago to find Milton Dyer. He did, and he was reunited with his dad after they had an emotional talk. The emotional one was me. I'm a wreck.

The ninja being out of credits will be important later. Meanwhile, in the very next episode...

The race is going to be the next episode. It was!

Seven will make it past the fourth mile marker. She did!

Rescue mission to recover Zane from the Mechanic. Surprisingly, yes, in the same episode as the background of Milton and Unagami.

Unagami is going to visit Ninjago, and he's going to bring some friends. It's not going to go well for Ninjago. The city has been in worse shapes after the final battle, but there was some damage. And people might have been injured.

We're going to lose Nya. She got rubix cubed, just like everybody else.

A confrontation between Milton and Unagami. TT__TT Yes.

Milton won't die.

Incorrect

Evil video game. Just a normal video game that was abandoned, and the AI in charge lashed out.

Milton Dyer was pulled into the game. He was just in hiding.

It will be a few more episodes before the rest of the ninja make it into Prime Empire. They made it in during the very next episode.

The motherboard needs to be inserted back into the arcade game for everyone to be able to return to Ninjago. A giant gateway also works.

It'll be a hot minute before the other ninja find Jay in Prime Empire. They were told where to find him in the very end of the next episode.

The League of Jay will be helpful down the line. They really just helped out that 1 time and that was it. We were cheated out of some more Jays all season.

Unagami is an old enemy with a new alias. Boy was I wrong there.

Lloyd will be the first ninja to lose all his lives. *crying about Cole and Kai*

The ninja are going to return to Scott's garage to find it trashed and him missing. He was alive and well, until Seven showed up.

Time flows different in Prime Empire than it does in Ninjago. I thought I had something, but it was a nothing.

Everyone will leave Prime Empire using the inter-dimensional arcade portals. Apparently, I never said anything about the gate in my main prediction posts (which I go off, not my opener "what's this ep gonna be about" post), sooooo... yeah.

Zane's not going to come out of this whole thing ok. He was able to shake it off faster than Taylor Swift.

Partially

Kai and Scott will lose their last life. Kai doing something stupid, and Scott in the race. They both did lose their last life, but Scott sacrificed himself for the ninja and Kai and Cole both lost their last life during the race.

We're going to lose someone during the race. We lost 2 someones.

The level to get the third Keytana will be a fighter game. It was a platform game + infinity maze + fighter game.

It's going to come down to Jay vs. Unagami. Yes, but mostly no.

Unconfirmed

Unagami paid attention to the ninja back on Ninjago. It wasn't ever confirmed how Unagami clocked the ninja as his enemies before they arrived in Prime Empire, but the Mechanic might have been the person informing him about the ninja. He might have informed Unagami of everything the ninja have done.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Twst Mirable Madrigal

"Damn it.." You curse underneath your breath, noticing the small tear in your bag. Remembering the previous day before, where Ace had set it aflame on accident with his magic. Then Deuce using his unique magic to try to get back at Ace. Which still had your bag be covered in flames. You were just glad Kalim was around and doused out the flame.

You were surprised for it to still be in tact and not a pile of ashes. The bag now only looked like it went through hell, twice.

The tear was.. A bit big, you were thankful the bag wasn't coming undone. But you still had to walk all the way back to the campus with the fear of the fabric finally meeting its end.

Why did Sam's supply of Tuna have to come in shipment tomorrow!?

Grumbling at your luck, you try to think of quick solution.

Buy a new bag?

No, you only brought enough mora for tuna and maybe a snack for yourself and Yuu.

What else-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud collision.

"Sorry-!"

Turning your head, you notice a guy accidentally bumping into another person while holding tons of bags in his arms. Teetering back and forth as he tries to waddle forward.

A small bag that was placed on top of the mountain of things he held fell to the ground next your feet. Picking it up, you watch the teen carefully go on about there day. Unknown to them one of there items were missing.

Picking up the bag, you call out to them, quickly striding over as they paused in their steps.

"Oh! Thank you!" You hear them cheer, but couldn't make out their face, mostly due to it being hidden because of the items.

"No problem.. Do you want me to help you carry some of those things? They look pretty heavy." You ask politely, feeling bad for the poor boy and his arms.

"Nope! Don't worry! I got it." He huffed, maneuvering past you.

You watch him walk off as more items fall. You sigh in agitation, reminding you of your vice-leader, Yuu.

You follow after them and pick up the fallen items as the two of you reach the main destination.

The entrance to Royal Sword Academy.

"Uh-oh.." You whisper, as the pile of items the male carried started teeter back and fourth before finally landing on... You, apparently.

With a squeal of fright, the items buried you as try to move away.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" He yelled, helping to dig you out of your soon to be grave. When your head reached the surface, your suprised by a unhappy face that greeted you.

"Why were you following me and are you okay?"

After explaining what happened, he thanked you as the two of you pick up the fallen items.

"What's your name?"

"{Twst Mirabel}," he stated, pushing up his glasses with a bright smile while picking up a bag unfamiliar to him. "Aw, this poor bag. What happened to it?"

"That one's mine, my friends messed it up." You state, picking up the last bag.

"So, where do we drop these off?"

"Let's head up to my dorm room, we can place the bags there."

-

"Oi! (Y/N)!"

"What's up Grim?" You ask, patting down your apron as Yuu pulls out the bread in the oven.

Grim, who was looking at the bag of goodies he received from your trip stares at you and Yuu. Before looking back at the bag.

"There's a mini Yuu and you in this bag, and the great Grim himself. Plus someone I've never seen before." The firey cat questions, pulling out the small dolls from your freshly stitched and embroidered bag.

"That's from friend of mine, you can play with them after dinner, but don't burn them."

-

[I know it's a year late, but here you go ya'll! Get ready for more ideas! Also, I appreciate comments and asks!!]

[noxturn-alley]

Honest

"I know what you did." It was a statement, 5 words that could hurt any marriage.

"Sorry what, Pads?" Remus looked up from the mountain of papers that were littered on his desk.

"I'm gonna need you to be honest with me, Remus." He took a step into his husband's study "If you care about us. You will tell me the tru-"

"I did it."

The silence that followed was deafening. The faint ticks of the analog clock on the wall filling the room, TICK TICK TICK. Both men, looked at each other. Not daring to say a word.

TICK TICK TICK

"MERLIN BALLS, MOONS!"

"I'm sorr-"

"No, I don't care for your excuses." Sirius paused "Just… Christmas is tomorrow"

"I know"

"Well, someone is gonna have to apparate to Brussels to get more of Effie's favorite chocolates, and it is not going to be me"

@wolfstarmicrofic

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a twst reaction with the vice dorm leaders (separately) x drunk reader who rambles about their boyfriend. (I just finished reading the dorm leader one and I loved it! Plus, I adore Rook and Ruggie)

Hello, thank you for the ask! Sorry this is super late, I was super busy but now I'm getting a better writing schedule and I'm going through my inbox. I'm glad you liked the dorm leaders one! I won't be adding Ortho in this one because, well, he's a child. Here's a link to the first one!

Vice dorm leaders find you drunk

Trey

He found you drunk in Ramshackle when he was coming by to drop off some of his famous baked goods. Grim basically yelled at him to take care of you and went off to bed early haha.

At first, he laughs, trying to take some pictures of you with his phone but he soon gets worried about your health and moves to help you get off from the floor. You were busy rolling around and singing a song that you didn't notice it was him helping you up and trying to get you to your room.

"H-hey, hey you there," you pinch at his cheek. He looks over at you with an amused face. "T-there's this guy *hick* that I'm dating...wow he's so sweet *laughs* like the treats he makes...oh you have to see him he's so hot too," you ramble off, almost sliding off of him. He catches you before you fall over.

"Oh really?" he chuckles. "Tell me more, what's your favorite thing about him?" he finds all of this super funny (and really cute). Not to mention he will tease you lightly about this the next day.

Ruggie (there's no vice dorm leader in Savanaclaw but he's basically doing that role)

He has no idea how you managed to find alcohol in the kitchen but here you were, with him late at night, drunk while he was finishing making a late night snack.

"Hey hey, y/n, don't fall over I got you," he tries his best to be gentle with you. He doesn't like the pungent smell of alcohol but he thinks how you're stumbling around is a bit funny. He helps you walk all the way to Ramshackle.

"Waitwaitwait! Before you go..." you tell him at the couch where he leaves you in your dorm. He stops and looks at you, his ears perked up in curiosity. "T-there's the real cutie in Savanaclaw...R-Ruggie, y'know? Whenever he laughs *hick* he's so adorable I wanna hug him all the time...oh he's a great chef too and like, o-oh man he's just the best," you ramble and giggle to yourself.

"Shishishi, I didn't know you liked me that much," he leans in and kisses you on the cheek. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit flustered by your words, but he will be the one making you embarrassed tomorrow by teasing you about it.

Jade

You drank something that Floyd gave you at the Mostro Lounge, and now you were drunk. Jade scolded his brother about it and apologized to Azul for your drunken state. Thankfully the lounge was empty because it was past its opening hours.

Jade carried you bridal style back to Ramshackle. He offered you a guest room at Octavinelle but you seemed adamant on returning so he just picked you up and started to walk. That was when you suddenly began talking.

"H-have you met J-Jade? T-the really sexy guy from Octavinelle with the beautiful smile? H-he's my boyfriend and...and wow he's just so cool! He can swim, he's super smart, a-and I love how we *hick* we can go ex-explore mountains together...you have to see him!" you giggled. You had no idea who you were talking to apparently.

"Yes, I'm sure he's wonderful," Jade smiles at you, oh he was going to have so much fun teasing you about this in the next week. But if you looked closely at him, you didn't just boost his ego, you also made him blush.

Jamil

Why are you drunk? How did you get drunk? What happened? Jamil has so many questions but he has no idea how to get you to answer them as he is dragging you out of the party that you were in while hanging around another dorm.

He's muttering to himself about how he should've went to the party with you to make sure you were safe. Thankfully, it seems that you weren't harmed, just tipsy. While he's busy thinking about how to help you the most for tomorrow's possible hangover, you suddenly tug on his shirt while stumbling around next to him.

"H-hey, you look a lot like m-my boyfriend, Jamil. Y'know him? The super smart, super talented guy? You *hick* you need to hear him sing, he's majestic. Oh and his looks?! Man and I t-thought that the deserts were HOT-" "You're drunk stop."

Jamil's trying to remain calm as you continue rambling on about how much you love him, but he can't help the searing blush he has on his cheeks. His heart races and and feels butterflies in his stomach. Sure, you were boosting his ego, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't flustered. He tries to get you to your dorm faster now so he doesn't faint from being loved so much haha.

Rook

You were drunk in Rook's room because he somehow smuggled alcohol into the school grounds :/. But now, he has made a mental note that he shouldn't give you the whole bottle and think that you would be fine.

He offered for you to sleep on his bed as he slept on his desk. He was busy writing poems and finishing off the last of a book he was reading when he suddenly heard you talking.

"O-oh...oh man h-have you seen R-Rook? Y-you can't *hick* miss him, he's the one with flawless h-hair and like...the prettiest eyes. He-he's a master with words and like, wow he can shoot arrows, he has *hick* perfect aim or something. He's so cool, I l-love him so much, h-he's my boyfriend y'know?" you ramble and roll over on your side so you're facing him. Apparently you forgot who you were talking to.

He sighs and smiles at you. "Mon amour, my love for you is unending as well," he rests his chin on his hand and watches you with loving eyes. He thinks you're cute, but the fact that you're just rambling about how much you love him makes it all the sweeter to see you. He still worries about your health tomorrow though haha.

Lilia

You two were drinking together because he too is a menace and snuck some alcohol against school rules haha. Sadly, he overestimated your alcohol tolerance and gave you too much. Now he has to figure out whether to help you get back to your dorm or let you stay in his room.

He ends up letting you stay, helping you lie down comfortably on the bed before he goes back to his desk. He doesn't have to sleep thankfully, and he wants to make sure he can tend to your health so you don't have a harsh headache tomorrow. Everything was pretty calm until he heard you talking about someone that you thought was "a handsome cutie."

"Y-y'know the super cute guy i-in Diasomnia? H-he's my boyfriend, L-Lilia, t-the one with the r-really cool hair? Wow *hick* h-he's so good at th-the guitar a-and like, s-singing, h-have you heard him? Man, I-I'm so lucky to h-have such a c-cool guy..." you hug a pillow tightly while closing your eyes. Lilia looks at you with a shocked expression before his face softens into a smile.

"Y/n, you're drunk," he laughs. "But, tell me, what else is so cool about him?" he teases. He will also tease you endlessly about everything you said haha, but he did think you were super cute. He probably has a recording of you talking about how amazing his gaming skills are too lol.

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | two.

pairing: lucien vanseera x fem!reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: **MAJOR WARNINGS: SUICIDE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS ** non-con, dub-con, violence

chapter word count: 5237

a/n: I'm posting this a little earlier than intended (was aiming for a new chapter every 2 days) because I've apparently got a scheduled power cut tomorrow (in 40 degree heat - send me prayers). Enjoy folks!

🩸 series masterlist 🩸

please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

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Ash Arrow

The first man from Amarantha’s court to grace your bed - the first man you had ever taken to bed - was not gentle. He had hit you so hard that your cheekbone bruised, and even your new High Fae strength was nothing compared to these centuries-old Fae. He had delighted in realising that you had bled shortly afterward, and had made quite the spectacle in telling everyone exactly how he had taken your virtue.

After around two dozen men had come and gone from your chambers, and weeks had passed by, you came to learn what it was that you had to do. They would come, take what they wanted, and leave nothing in return. They didn’t want anything sensual or passionate, there was no kissing or foreplay, they simply wanted to bury themselves for an hour or so, and you were the chosen place to do it.

By the next time Lucien had come to visit, you had become quite adept at pretending to be somewhere else, and the dark shapes behind your eyelids became your best friends, come to you every time a knock came at your chamber door and you closed your eyes, praying that it would be over soon.

It had been three months since Lucien’s initial visit, and this time he found you, not in that dank cell, but in the throne room. A High Fae from Hewn City had you sprawled in his lap whilst he swallowed down glass after glass of wine, his hand resting on your upper thigh - you were his property for the night, and damn anyone who might try to touch you.

“Give us a smile then,” the High Fae growled, looking you over. His friends chuckled low and dark. You didn’t speak, and you wouldn’t dare to, instead simply pulling at the sides of your lips until they resembled something close to a smile. You hadn’t smiled in months. You had very little to be joyful about down here under this mountain.

“Y/N?” Your name came as a whisper somewhere behind you, and you tensed at the voice, turning to find the youngest brother of the Autumn Court staring back at you in pure shock. “What are you doing?”

His face had gone deathly pale - as pale as a corpse - and his eyes were narrowed, lips a thin, straight line. The Fae who was currently providing your seat scoffed, glancing at his friends and then back at Lucien with a snarl. “Wait your own turn, Autumn. Unless you want to lose that other eye too.”

Lucien flinched ever-so-slightly, but didn’t make to reply. Instead, he turned back to you, leaning forward slightly. “I have business to attend to, but I’ll find you shortly, ok?”

You nodded, and watched as he hesitantly turned, almost as if he didn’t want to leave you with the Hewn City Fae, and slipped into the crowd.  You fought the urge to scream after him for him to take you with him, wherever it was he was going. That wouldn’t go down well with the Fae who’s lap I sat in, and definitely not with Amarantha.

He did keep his promise, however. Shortly after the Hewn City High Fae left your chambers, the soft knock sounded on my door, and you braced yourself for yet another client - you usually only had one per night, but sometimes another would sneak in during the late hours when the throne room party was dying down. However, when the door swung open, it wasn’t a client, but rather the red-headed emissary of the Spring Court.

He entered the room slowly and hesitantly, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed, just as he had done on your first day in the Spring Court. He averted his gaze when he realised that you weren’t properly covered, an issue that you fixed by wrapping the sheets around your chest.

“What are you doing?” He all-but snapped. You hadn’t been expecting to see the anger behind his eyes, nor for it to be directed at you. “What the fuck is this game you’re playing?”

“I’m doing what I need to do to survive,” you countered, echoing Rhysand’s words. “This was the only way.”

“No,” he snarled. “There were plenty of other ways to get out of that cell other than whoring yourself out to the entire court. We were-”

You let the bitter laugh that ruminated from the pit of your chest cut him off, glaring at him as you sat up and faced him, hand still holding those sheets over your naked form. “Perhaps you had a plan,” you snapped. “Maybe you would have found a way out for me. But it’s been three months, Lucien. Three months since you last came, and for all I knew, you were going to leave me down there. You were never going to come back!”

“You think that I would leave you there?” He hissed through gritted teeth. He glanced away again as you rose from the bed and threw a silk nightdress over your body, and you knew even as he glanced back and winced that it still wasn’t enough to properly cover you, the thin, light material practically see-through, and showing the entire length of your legs.

“I don’t know what you would do, Lucien,” I snapped back. “It’s not as if you didn’t make it perfectly clear during those months at the Spring Court that you would rather me gone. Perhaps leaving me here was your plan all along, to get me out of your way so that I didn’t bother you anymore.”

“Y/N,” he growled, and you could help but take a step back from him. That fire burning behind his eye was brighter than you had ever seen it before, stronger and harsher. He was furious with you, and you didn’t like to think what that entailed. “Did I not tell you that I would come here whenever I could?”

He moved to perch on the edge of the bed, fists clenched to white knuckles, frowning once he realised the act that had just been committed between those sheets, but he ignored it, and kept that firm stare on you. “When I told Tamlin that you were going to stay here, he was enraged. He trashed half of the house.” He let out a low and heavy sigh. “What do you think is going to happen when I tell him that you’re whoring yourself out to Amarantha’s entire court?”

“Right now, what Tamlin does is not my concern,” you muttered, moving to sit at the vanity, watching him through the reflection in the mirror. “I need to focus on surviving, on living.”

“You would call this living?” He countered, running a hand over the silk sheets of the bed. “Don’t you see that you are playing entirely into Amarantha’s hand? She wants to spoil you, wants to keep Tamlin angry, to tease and torment him, because she thinks that you are his lover.”

You paused, spinning in your seat to stare at him, mouth slightly agape. Suddenly, everything made sense. Everything that Amarantha had done became clear to you. She was using you to try and torture Tamlin, and this was simply another step in her plan. To see his lover be whored out to her court and know that he was powerless to stop it. Only, you weren’t his lover, and she had made a mistake. You were stuck there because of a mistake. Your stomach swirled in anger.

“But Rhysand said this was the only way,” you whispered, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “He said that this was the only way I could survive.”

“Rhysand told you that?” Lucien scoffed. “Surely you should have realised that Rhysand is Amarantha’s lap-dog. Anything that he says is only ever to benefit himself, or her. You can’t trust him.”

Your shoulders began to shake, just slightly, as the sobs wracked through your body one by one, waves of anger and sadness and frustration and mourning for what could have been, the life you could have lived at the Spring Court, washing over you inch by inch. You weren’t sure when you fell to the ground, when you crumpled onto your knees and began to weep, yet, to your surprise, two strong arms wrapped themselves around you, grounded you and comforted me. It was overwhelming, the information that he had given you was too much. You had gone through all of this simply because Amarantha had wanted to destroy Tamlin, and had thought that you - his supposed lover - was the best way to break him.

“It will be ok,” Lucien whispered soothingly, and you were too wrecked to even spare an ounce of surprise at his kindness. “I’ll come more often, I promise.”

“I’m a fool,” you choked out between sobs.

“Well, as much as I’m inclined to agree,” he smirked. “In this instance, I don’t think so. If you say this was the best way to keep you alive, then I believe you.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose on the back of your hand, and looked up at him. He was smiling - a real, shining smile that seemed to leech through the darkness and coldness of the room. And for some reason, you couldn’t help but reciprocate it. When he saw your smile, he nearly beamed.

“Keep your chin up, human,” he said softly. A calloused finger hitched itself under your chin and lifted it, just as he had said. “And don’t let them know how much it pains you to do this. They will only use it against you.”

“So I truly must stay this way?” You asked quietly. “I must remain as this…whore?”

“Unfortunately, you’ve already agreed to it,” he said solemnly. “There’s little I can do to stop it now.” He paused, twisting his lips in thought. “I will try - I promise you that - but I cannot say that my pleas won’t fall on deaf ears.”

With that, he rose to his feet, his hands on your shoulders pulling you with him. “Now, I have to go,” he said quietly. “I had to sneak past your guards to get in here, and I have to be out before they realise.”

Ah yes, Harden and Carson, the guards that Amarantha had stationed at the door to your chambers, and your two most frequent clients. You watched as Lucien made his way to the door, the gold of his dagger hilt shimmering in the candlelight. He paused, just for a moment, and turned back to you.

“Just remember,” he said slowly. “You can’t trust Rhysand. Don’t take anything he says at face value.”

You just nodded as he threw you one more sympathetic smile, only the second real smile you had ever seen from him, and disappeared back into the hall, the door clicking behind him as he went.

After that visit, Lucien began coming to the mountain once a month, frequently checking in on you, and bringing Amarantha news from the Spring Court - you could only hope that it was false information, and that he wasn’t actually selling Tamlin out.

His arrival would always be the same. You would be in the throne room, surrounded by drunk faeries, waiting for one of them to pick you from the crowd and claim you for the night. Lucien would stride through the door, parting the crowds and earning snarls of distaste from the other Vanserra boys, who you quickly worked out to be his older brothers. He would stop at the foot of the dais, and request counsel with Amarantha, and as they left, his eyes would scan the crowd to find you, offering you a reassuring nod that told you he would find you that night.

He had begun informing Harden and Carson that he was a client, hoping to be serviced by the court’s whore during his visit, and they would let him into your chambers without a second question. He would bring with him news of the Spring Court, only for your ears, and messages from Tamlin. Usually, those messages conveyed only that he missed you, his sister, a title that you had cemented together over those months, and that he would find a way to get you out and take you home. You weren’t sure, when he said home, if he meant the Spring Court or the mortal lands. At the end of each meeting, Lucien would be sure to ruffle his clothes and hair, and you the sheets on your bed and your own hair, lest someone question what you had been doing.

It wasn’t until six months later that Amarantha even realised that Lucien had been coming to your chambers during his visits at all. However, it was on one late evening that you finally realised she knew.

As always, Lucien entered the throne room as you hovered on the outskirts of the room, trying to cover your modesty in the skimpy dress that you wore as you usually did. Your eyes followed his figure as he strode through the room, an heir of unadulterated confidence, and stopped to kneel at the edge of the dais. “I bring news from the Spring Court,” he said, not looking up at Amarantha who lounged in her throne, a goblet of wine hanging from her thin fingers. “I beg an audience so that we may convene and discuss it.”

“Tomorrow,” Amarantha snarled. She leaned forward in her chair, peering down at the emissary. “For now, why not enjoy yourself? You work so hard, Lucien.” She smirked, those red lips curling into the malicious smile that you were so familiar with now. “I heard that you have quite the affinity for my favourite little pet whore. Why not let her show you a good time?”

Lucien’s shoulders tensed, but he bowed his head and rose to his feet, not another word uttered, before turning and scanning the crowd, the throne room now silent, until his golden eye landed on you. He strode toward you, and took your hand in his, making a move to depart through the parting crowd and retreat to the safety and relative comfort of your chambers. But Amarantha’s voice stopped him in his tracks, toxicity laced into every word.

“Leaving so soon?” She sneered. “Why not stay and enjoy the party for a while? I’m sure the whore can keep you company here.”

He winced and turned back to you, scanning your features as if to say, ‘if you’re not comfortable with this, we don’t have to, and I can make an excuse for us to go’. But you just nodded, and watched as his shoulders rose and fell with a shuddering breath. He led you now in the opposite direction, taking a seat at the table on the far side of the room. His legs spread ever so slightly, an invitation to sit, and whilst he grabbed your hips and pulled you down to him, his rough fingertips were still gentle against your skin.

Amarantha rose from her throne, clicking her fingers once to command that the others go back to what they had been doing, before taking slow steps down and long, floating strides toward us, coming to a pause before you. You flinched, but Lucien’s strong hands squeezed at their lingering presence on your hips, a silent comfort.

“I’m intrigued to know, emissary,” her voice snarled. “What does your High Lord think of you taking his lover to bed each time you come here?”

Lucien smirked, but you knew better than to think it was real humour he felt. “What Tamlin doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Amarantha’s sharp laughter echoed above the noise from the party. “Well then, I’ll ensure he never finds out.” Her dark eyes flashed, but Lucien simply tipped his head. She turned to the nearest servant. “Fetch some wine for our guest.”

“Two, please,” Lucien called, and the servant nodded, disappearing for a moment and returning with two goblets of wine. Lucien took one and handed you the other. The wine was the colour of blood, of Amarantha’s lips, of Lucien’s blood that day he had lost his eye.

“You plan to ply the whore with wine?” Amarantha smirked. “It is her job to do as you bid. You have no need to get her drunk first.”

Lucien let out a small chuckle, shooting me a sideways glance. “With the night that I’ve got planned for her, she’s going to need it.”

Amarantha laughed again, and the sound made my blood run cold. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you, emissary,” she leered. “Enjoy the party.”

Lucien nodded once more, and Amarantha left, but you knew that her eyes were still trained on you and Lucien, watching, studying calculatingly, noting every movement that you both made. You knew what she was doing - she was trying to catch us in our falsehood, to ensure that there were no lies being spewed to her, and that Lucien did in fact have every intention of taking you to bed.

You felt his breath, hot on your neck as he leaned into your ear and whispered, “Just play along. There are too many eyes watching.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After a while his hand left your hips, repositioning you slightly so that you were no longer perched on the edge of his knees, but instead completely on his lap, flush against his broad chest. One hand snaked its way around your waist, and the other came to rest on your thigh, higher than you thought was necessary for appearance sake, but you didn’t dare argue. You allowed your own arm to slip around his neck, the other cradling your wine, which was emptied and refilled more times that night than you would care to admit to.

Your skin was burning hot, flushed and riddled with gooseflesh. The fear of being caught in your lie was enough to make every hair on the back of your neck stand to attention, especially when a faerie dressed in all-black, presumably from Hewn City in the Night Court, struck up a conversation with Lucien about what he planned to do with you that night.

You winced at the crude conversation, knowing that none of it was true, but even just hearing him speak of you that way was enough to twist your stomach into knots. Lucien’s grip on your thigh tightened and released, tightened and released, his way of telling you that it wasn’t true, that he was just playing a part and he meant none of it. And you knew that already, but it didn’t stop you from downing two more glasses of faerie wine, and allowing the sweet drunken bliss to take over.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes, taking in his scent. He smelt like the forest after a light rain, like apple cider and cinnamon, and you let the smell envelope you, let his arms hold you in place. The first moment of peace and tranquillity that you’d found since arriving Under the Mountain, and it had come from Lucien of all people.

You could still barely wrap your head around it, how it was he who came so regularly to check on you, he who made you feel better, he who protected you. He had once hated you so much, had resented you and loathed you being in the Spring Court - perhaps he still did. Maybe his words on his first visit had been true, that he simply didn’t think anyone deserved this, not even you. Either way, you were grateful for him, and grateful for the small semblance of normality that came with him.

You felt his hand hook under your legs, pulling them over his thighs, allowing you to nestle closer to him, so close to sleep that had evaded you for so long, finally feeling safe enough to let it overtake you.

When you woke the next morning, you were tucked into your bed, and Lucien was nowhere in sight. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he was gone, that the only friend you had in this wretched place, no matter how unlikely, had left without a word. Not that you had expected him to stay. He would never have done such a thing, if only for fear of Tamlin’s wrath should he ever find out that his emissary had spent the night in your chambers, even if only for appearances, and even if nothing would have actually happened.

Yet, you found yourself longing for that smell of him, that feeling of safety that he provided. Lucien, despite himself, despite his hatred to you, had become the only form of kindness that you received, and had quickly become the lesser of two evils. You could deal with Lucien’s snarky remarks and cold glares, even if they were few and far between now, if it meant that you were kept away from Amarantha, and away from her sickening court for even just one night.

He was your safety net now, and as much as you hated that it was him, and as much as he surely thought the same, he was all you had left.

Three years passed by in the blink of an eye, and yet nothing changed. You remained chained to that bed, and remained Amarantha’s loyal little pet whore. Lucien’s visits became more infrequent, citing problems in the Spring Court as the reasoning, and you felt the loneliness slowly taking over, wrapping you in its darkness. You began to fall in on yourself, to refuse food, leaving you nothing more than skin and bone - it always came up after your clients left anyway. You stopped speaking, no longer pretending to be that good little servant to your clients, who feigned laughter at their jokes and faked pleasure in bed. You no longer made any effort with anyone at all. You became a shell of yourself, and everyone could see it.

When, to your surprise, Rhysand came to visit you, appearing in a cloud of dark shadows inside your chambers without so much as a knock on the door, you hadn’t seen Lucien in nearly five months. Rhysand looked you over, curled up on your bed, wrapped around yourself. You didn’t even so much as spare him a glance.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. It was the first time he had come to your room since the day he had shown you this prison. “Amarantha isn’t happy with how you’re acting. The court’s men are complaining.”

“Go to hell.” It came out in no more than a whisper, your voice aching at the first use for months. Rhysand chuckled.

“I think it’s too late for that. We’re already here,” he stated, circling the bed to crouch down in front of you. You didn’t allow your eyes to focus on him, his face a blur of dark skin and violet eyes and black shadows. “You need to eat something.”

“Why do you care?” You growled out.

“You’re right,” he said, throwing his hands into the air. “I shouldn’t care. Except that I do. I gave a lot to get you this position, to get you out of that cell and save your life. Now you’re throwing away all of my hard work.”

You didn’t grace him with an answer, and he simply tutted his tongue, running a hand through his dark locks. “If Amarantha thinks that you are no longer of use, what do you think will happen?” Again, no answer. “She’ll kill you.”

“Then let her,” you mumbled, fighting back a sob. “Lucie was right, this isn’t living anyway.”

Rhysand groaned in frustration. “Do you think your little emissary would be happy if you were killed?” He snapped. “Do you think your High Lord would be pleased?”

“He’s not my High Lord, and Lucien isn’t my emissary,” was the only reply that you could muster. Rhysand groaned again, but seemed to give up fighting. He knew as well as you did that there was nothing he could do to change your mind.

“Well, if you’re really not going to eat anything, then prepare yourself,” he stated blandly, rising to his feet. “You’ve got an important client coming to visit.”

And then he was gone.

The important client in question was a High Fae from the Autumn Court, and as soon as he entered your chambers you knew him to be one of Lucien’s brothers - the second eldest, if you were correct in your thinking. He hovered by the door awkwardly, as if not sure how to proceed, and you lounged on the bed. You watched him, but didn’t move to bring him closer to you, didn’t spread your legs or edge him into your bed. He pulled off his bow and quiver and placed them on the vanity table, before slowly moving closer to the bed.

It was fast, and messy, and painful, but you kept still, allowing him to take from you whatever he needed, as so many others had done before. It wasn’t until the final few thrusts that you allowed your eyes to open and focus on the mirror across from you, drawing them down to the quiver on the table. Your heart nearly stopped.

Ash arrows.

You knew the stories, that ash arrows were the only way to kill a faerie. Perhaps they would be your salvation, would be your ticket to freedom. The Vanserra brother finished with a growl, rolling off you, muttering something about cleaning himself up, before disappearing into the washroom. You moved quickly and quietly while he was gone, unsure of how much time you had left before he came back. You pulled one of the ash arrows from the quiver, studied it as it sat heavy in your palm for a moment, and slipped it under the mattress, sliding back under the covers, pulling the sheets up to cover my modesty.

The red-head appeared again, and quickly dressed, grabbing his weapons, not noticing the missing arrow. He threw you one last sneer over his shoulder, and made a promise that he would return later in the week. Little did he know that you would be here.

You had hoped that the ash arrow would kill you the second that you plunged it into your stomach, but little did you know that those stories you had grown up on were greatly exaggerated.

It was Lucien that found you. You hadn’t even known that he was Under the Mountain that day, but even through the haze of blood-loss, you could still hear his shouts and cries and wails, could still feel his arms pull you into his lap, his blood-sticky fingers pushing the hair away from your face as he practically begged you to come back, for his sake, for Tamlin’s sake.

A sharp pain erupted through your stomach as the ash arrow was pulled from your body, but you didn’t even flinch, not enough energy to even register the pain. The metallic stench of magic filled your nostrils, and even in your disorientation, you knew that Lucien was trying, and failing to heal you. And then there was another voice, lower than Lucien’s - Rhysand.

They worked in tandem, another wave of metallic magic flooding your nostrils, masking the bitter stench of your own blood as two sets of magic worked to heal the gaping wound in your abdomen. Something dripped on your cheek, blood that had coated the ends of Lucien’s hair and now fell to my face.

Their voices became more distant, foggier and muted, as you wandered closer to that light, to the end of the line.

You didn’t die. You found out later that Lucien had stayed Under the Mountain as you recovered, and had stayed in your room every day until you woke up. Rhysand hadn’t returned, however, but you couldn’t help but consider what Lucien had said about him, about how he couldn’t be trusted. If he had truly been working against you, would he have helped save your life? Maybe it was simply a means to an end, to keep you alive so that you could keep up this charade, and play out his and Amarantha’s plan, yet after that day you had a new-found respect for him.

Lucien was still there when my eyes fluttered open, taking in that same bed-chamber, almost coughing out a cry when you realised that your own plan had failed, and you were still stuck in that prison. He rushed to your bedside as soon as he saw that you were awake, the mattress dipping with his weight as he sat down.

“Y/N?” He whispered the question. You allowed your blurred eyes to fall to him, noting the relief on his face, a peculiar stance for someone who had hated you so much. And yet, you could only assume that he no longer loathed you, for if he did, surely he wouldn’t have spent so much time there, so much time checking on you and protecting you. Surely he wouldn’t have saved your life, wouldn’t have been such a frantic mess when he saw the blood pouring from the wound made by the ash arrow that had been protruding from your gut. In truth, the hatred that you had once felt for him had dissipated too. You didn’t despise him anymore, much to your own surprise, because he was the only kindness that you still had left. He was the only one who seemed to care. “Thank the Cauldron!”

It only took a second for your features to contort and crinkle, eyes screwed shut as the sobs wreaked through your body. Lucien simply pulled you closer to him, and held you as you cried, as you mourned and grieved for your own worthless existence.

“It didn’t work,” you sobbed into his chest.

“I know,” he whispered into your hair. “You’re lucky I was here, and that Rhysand of all people helped.”

“Lucky?” You cried. “You think I’m lucky? I wanted that ash arrow to kill me, I wanted it to end my miserable life! I can’t live like this, Lucien! I can’t do it anymore!”

He pulled back, face pale with shock as he searched your features, brows furrowed. “Y-You mean you did that to yourself?” You let out another choked sob, nodding your head. “Aeryn got thirty lashes for that.”

Aeryn, his brother from the Autumn Court, the one you had stolen the ash arrow from. And it all came down to that; here, under this mountain, your life was worth only thirty lashes against his back. But Lucien didn’t speak of it again, not when you let out another shaking gasp surrounding a wailing sob, and he pulled you back into his chest and rocked you gently. You let that scent - his scent - envelope you once more, just as it had that day in the throne room, and allowed it to comfort you into calmness.

Lucien returned to the Spring Court a few days later to inform Tamlin of what had happened and assure him that you were ok. That, much to your own despair, you were still alive.

And so, your life returned to what it had been. When you were strong enough to return to your duties, the men began knocking on your door once more, and you returned to despising your own existence.

[riiwriting]

Teenage Dirtbag | Sebastian (Stardew Valley)

cross-posted from my wattpad

prompt -  in which the farmer's big move isn't necessarily entirely their choice, but they've made peace with it.

warnings - canon divergence 

gender-neutral farmer (they/them pronouns used)

                                                       ⦿ pelican town, winter year 1

IT HAD BEEN ALMOST A FULL YEAR SINCE I MOVED. This was a fleeting thought, one that hint me suddenly before being dismissed as not a big deal. I didn't really think about it again until Robin brought it up one day while I was there to talk to her about building a stable.

"I have to say, what you've done with that farm is really impressive. I know it wasn't necessarily your choice of life, but you've gotta admit you've done a lot in under a year, Farmer," she complimented sincerely. I knew that she meant it, and that she was probably right, but I had to bite my tongue from verbally refusing her praise.

I instead just offered a tight-lipped smile, and chose the only out I could think of. "A year already. That's crazy." I did my best to seem amazed, but my acting admittedly wasn't great. I'm sure Robin knew exactly what I was doing in avoiding the conversation. She let it rest though, and for that I would always be grateful.

We finished discussing the payment and materials for the stable and I bid her farewell, zipping my coat back up to my nose as I headed for the snow outside.

"Be careful out there, please," Robin hurriedly called just as I was reaching the front door. She caught me a bit by surprise, and when I turned to look at her, I'm sure my eyes betrayed that fact. Her face reddened, "I know you take the mountain path, and it gets extra icy up there."

Before I could say anything to wave off her concerns, another head appeared around the corner. Sebastian had apparently decided to come up from his room for the day, and upon hearing his mother talking, was curious to see who was in the entryway.

Our eyes met, and out of courtesy, I gave a small wave. It took him a moment to process, but he sent me a groggy half-smile in return. We admittedly didn't know each other well – not that I knew anyone in town well, really – but I did seem to always run into him when I came to visit his mom. We didn't really talk when we did see each other, partially because he seems to hate people, and partially because I don't know how to talk to people my own age.

I cleared my throat, quickly turning my attention from Sebastian to Robin. "I'll walk through town," I reassured her. I knew that I would most likely change my mind and take my usual route the minute she was out of sight, but sometimes white lies are okay if they help people sleep at night.

"You can walk with Sebastian, then," Robin hastily offered up, alarming both myself and her son.

Sebastian's eyebrows flew upwards. "They can?" he asked, his face blank. He had just rolled out of bed. Obviously, he was not anticipating going into town this early.

Robin, however, either didn't notice this, or didn't care. She instead just gave him an affirmative nod. "You told me yesterday you'd pick the stuff for dinner up from Pierre's for me. Remember?"

"Well yeah," He quickly covered. His eyes flickered to me for just a second, before frantically flashing back to his mother. "I wasn't planning on going, like, now."

A sour expression crossed Robin's face, and she looked like she was going to argue. I knew that she was trying to passively teach him something about manners, but I wasn't afraid of a little snow.

I spoke up before she had the chance. "I appreciate it, Robin, but the snow is a walk in the park compared to the mines," I explained lightly. She still looked uncertain, so I reassured her one more time, "I'll be fine. It's not snowing as hard now as it was earlier."

Robin sighed, apparently admitting defeat. "Alright. I'll come see you tomorrow morning about that stable."

I nodded thankfully, "Right, thank you. I'll see you then." This time, I dismissed thoughts of courtesy and avoided Sebastian's eyes entirely as I slipped out the front door.

I wanted nothing more than to run home to a bottle of wine and Queen of Sauce reruns, but after all of that, my conscience didn't let me take the short way home. Robin clearly cared a lot about me getting home safely – more than I cared about me getting home safely – and it felt wrong to lie to her.

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets as I walked, my shoulders hunched against the lightly falling snowing. The cold air pinched my nose, and I sneezed, which was enough motivation to get me to pull jacket up even higher.

I didn't mind the snow or the cold too much, but walking in it would never be my favorite thing. As I trudged through town, I was reminded of my walks alone to school as a child on days when my mother worked early and couldn't drop me off. I sighed, as I typically did when I thought of her. I loved her dearly, and she was my hero growing up, but as a young adult, I could only seem to remember all the ways she did me wrong.

Like guilt tripping me into dropping everything and moving to my grandfather's farm, for example. I'm half convinced she's the one who coerced him to leave it to me in the will, if I'm honest. She apparently wasn't a fan of my life in the city.

By the time I got back to the farmhouse, my legs ached. I cursed Robin under my breath as I screwed the cork out of a new bottle of wine, but realistically, the extra walk was nice. I sighed to myself as I curled up under the wool blanket I kept draped over the couch. Whatever resentment I was harboring towards this town and the people in it, I needed to shake. For better or for worse, this was my life now. And it really wasn't all that bad.

⦿

I WAS BREWING A POT OF COFFEE WHEN SOMEONE KNOCKED ON MY DOOR THE NEXT MORNING. I knew that it had to be Robin, so I stepped away from the kitchen to answer it. I jumped a little bit when I discovered that it was not Robin, but rather her son.

My heart started racing. "Is your mom okay?" I blurted, forgetting all formalities. He raised his eyebrows at my comment, surprise flashing across his face. His awkward fidgeting suddenly reminded me that he was probably just as uncomfortable as I was. I cleared my throat, "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," he awkwardly said. "At least you... um, care... I guess." I nodded, and a brief silence overtook the conversation. Sebastian quickly explained the situation, "She sent me to tell you she's not coming today. I guess she woke up with a cold, I don't know. I always feel like shit when I wake up as early as she does, so."

His mention of the time got me thinking, and I glanced at my wrist watch. It was hardly 8. "Isn't this early for you?" I asked.

He nodded, a groggy scowl on his lips. "Trust me, I'm not here by choice," he grumbled. After a second, he added, "no offense."

I shrugged off his apology. "I didn't get up much before ten when I lived at home," I responded, hoping it would ease a bit of the odd tension in the air.

"I bet that change must've sucked," he said.

I nodded, "it did."

There was another awkward pause. Had socializing always been this difficult? Sebastian cleared his throat to say something – goodbye, I'm sure – but sneezed instead. A shiver seemed to run up his spine, and I realized that he was wearing pajama pants, slippers, and a hoodie. In the snow. At 8 am.

"Um, do you want a cup of coffee?" I found myself asking. The socialization was awkward, but I wasn't going to let him freeze to death. I guess I do have compassion for other people.

Take that, mom.

He took a moment to process my offer. "Ah," he started, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. I felt a refusal coming, which I was honestly fine with – at least I offered. But after a look around the snowy fields, and then a long assessment of my face, he sighed. "You don't mind?"

I shook my head, a tiny smile on my pursed lips. "I'm not gonna drink an entire pot of coffee by myself," I responded.

That seemed to be the right answer, as he actually smiled. "Thanks," he mumbled shyly. I just returned his smile and showed him to the kitchen.

The pot was just finishing up when I returned to the countertop, hoping that Sebastian would seat himself without instruction needed. The soft sound of wood scraping against wood told me my hopes were answered.

I poured two mugs of coffee and grabbed a bowl of cream before joining my guest at the table. I only really had two chairs, as I had been focused on other things, and I didn't typically entertain enough guests to need multiple chairs, anyway. I didn't typically entertain guests at all.

Sebastian muttered another "thank you" as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug. This time I actually told him he was welcome, mostly because I didn't know what to talk about, and it would be significantly harder to excuse awkward silence now that he was in my house. It didn't matter, though. The kitchen grew quiet anyway.

"I can't believe you left the city for this," Sebastian eventually blurted as his eyes traveled around the farmhouse. When I raised an eyebrow at him, his face reddened. "Sorry. Your farm is really nice, too, I just mean..." he trailed off, his embarrassment outweighing his desire to explain himself.

I fought back my extreme amusement to give him a relatively vague answer, hoping to push the subject away. "I can't believe it either, sometimes," was all I said. I figured he could interpret that however he liked.

To my dismay, my guest seemed more curious about my backstory that I would've predicted. "Why did you move out here? I mean, I know the farm was your grandfather's, or whatever, but you chose to move."

The sleep had more or less vanished from his face, and he instead sat in front of me bright-eyed, genuinely intrigued in my answer. It would've been endearing, possibly even flattering, if it wasn't such a sore subject. I quickly reminded myself that I had just promised that I would let my resentment go. I sighed, "It's a long story."

He glanced at my watch, wordlessly pointing out that we had time for a long story. Even passively, he managed to be a smartass.

"I didn't really choose to move," I prefaced. I watched as his face darkened, a similar embarrassment to earlier spreading across his expression. Before he made himself feel too bad, I told the story. "My mom more or less made that choice for me. She didn't really agree with the choices I made or the people I spent time with after I graduated high school. And I guess I can't blame her.

When my grandfather died last year, I had pretty much just turned twenty, and still pretty dependent on my parents in a lot of ways. My dad and I had this big argument one day, and then the next night my mom was more or less blackmailing me into moving out to the farm."

It was quiet for a second as Sebastian tried to decipher if I was done. When he decided that I was, he said, "I get it. You didn't like, want to come here. That makes sense."

I shrugged." I mean, I didn't hate my life in Zuzu. I got into trouble, made some mistakes here and there," I paused, my face dipped to hide my embarrassment. I reeled it back, "I was just starting to really try and figure my life out. And then all of a sudden I was just living an entirely new life. It's like I didn't get a break from feeling out of place."

He nodded like he understood the feeling, though I'd never ask if he did or not. The was a pause, and then he asked, "Do you plan on going back, then?"

It was a weird situation to be in. On one hand, this was the question that haunted me every night as I fell asleep. On the other, I never imagined that Robin's son, of all people, was going to be the one to finally make me face it.

"Not at the moment," I settled, He made a face, and I added, "I like it here, even if I don't like admitting it. I'm finally adjusting to it, and I don't want to just drop everything again."

He nodded pensively as he took a long sip from his mug, his shoulders relaxing. I half expected him to disagree with my opinion. He gave me the impression he wasn't exactly fond of his hometown. To my surprise, he instead conceded, "Living here is... nice."

I agreed, and then because I couldn't think of anything else to say, I resorted to finishing my coffee. The room fell back into silence, but it wasn't quite as uncomfortable this time around.

When both of our coffee mugs were empty, Sebastian wasted no time in excusing himself – something I appreciated. I was already prepared to tell him that I had to go check on the chickens, but he mentioned needing to go back to his mom before I have to use my excuse.

I walked him to the door, as any good host would, and suddenly found myself in the awkward place of not knowing how to say goodbye. I didn't think that we were exactly friends, but we certainly knew each other a lot better now than we did when he got here. I was able to admit to myself that having an acquaintance in town felt kind of nice.

"Tell your mom I hope she feels better, and to not worry about the stable," I requested. I watched as he nodded, his expression stoic. Sighing internally, I forced myself to swallow my pride. "It was also nice to talk to you, for a change."

It took a second for him to process my words, but once he did, an honest smile popped onto his face. "Yeah, you too," he returned meekly.

I gave him a small smile. After a brief pause, he scratched at the back of his neck, his expression suddenly covered with what looked like the desire to flee. I was almost expecting him to turn and leave without saying anything else, but he instead cleared his throat and said, "Thanks again for the coffee. Um, next time you're over to talk to my mom, you should come say hi."

His words caught me off guard, but I think I managed to smile and nod like a normal person. My reaction – though I don't remember it – seemed to be appropriate, as I received a smile in return. He sent me a small wave before pulling his hood up over his ears and trudging out into the snow.

An unfamiliar feeling thumped in my chest as I went back inside to clear the dishes from the table. My day would fall into a routine after that, just like every day seemed to in Pelican Town. I found that I didn't really mind.

[fandomcrazy6226]

Liveblogging Dracula Daily - May 3

So... apparently today is a tumblr holiday considering how much this particular tag is skyrocketing to trending, so I decided to subscribe to Dracula Daily and experience the story for the first time this way.

Yeah, I've never read Dracula, and basically all I know about it is vampires and Transylvania (spelling?) and that MatPat went viral for a... chair scene I probably don't need to go into detail about (only because I'm sure the venn diagram of people who read DD and people who follow MatPat already know about it).

So... enjoy this girl's first look into this 127-year-old book. First entry, let's go!

First off, I don't think I'll be able to read this without picturing MatPat as Jonathan so that is just going to stick around. Late trains are a plague on the world, one time my dad and I were up until about 3 in the morning waiting for a layover train in Chicago. Fun times.

OK one thing I do know about this is that there's a weird amount of recipe-tracking and apparently paprika so just for funsies I'm gonna keep a count of both. Recipe count: 1 (chicken w/ red pepper) ; Paprika: 1 (name of chicken).

Ooh, the British Museum! *insert joke about stolen artifacts here* Yeah, big brain moment to actually look into the country you're traveling to. I feel like that's something I would fail to do tbh.

I should probably keep track of all this. Carpathian mountains contain Transylvania, Moldavia, Bukovina. And the castle isn't on any maps which nowadays would probably be suspicious but I guess back in 1897 it wouldn't have turned so many heads. Oh this next section is all geography isn't it

Ok. Saxons and Wallachs in the South, and Wallachs are descended from Dacians. Magyars in the West, and Szekelys in East and North. ...no disrespect to any of these groups if they're real (I'm not sure) but these names look a bit like someone trying to scoot around the rules with a word in scrabble. Oh and apparently the Szekelys are descended from the Huns (Let's get down to business!!!). And all of the superstitions in the world are written down in one place in these mountains? Logistics?

"I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough" literally me every night this past week. Might be time to go back on the melatonin. Paprika count: 2 (cause of weird dreams? Can paprika give you weird dreams? *google* doesn't look like it) Ohhhh the paprika made him thirsty so he was up all night drinking water. That makes more sense.

Oh my god Paprika count: 3. Part of his breakfast. Incidentally, Recipe count: 2 (corn flour porridge and eggplant stuffed with... whatever forcemeat is. Mixture of meat and vegetables. Okay then) Ha! And again with the late trains. It really sucks when you do so much to be on time for something and then the something decides to make itself late.

Well now I wanna see this scenery out the train cause it's described super pretty. Alright these are some very interesting-looking outfits being described here. Cowboy hats? Were those even a thing when this book came out? I mean obviously yes they were if they're in this but like... what.

OK Bistritz is the town near the castle, yes? And apparently this town has been through some stuff. 13,000 death count, yikes!

I love how this guy is so happy his hotel is old-fashioned. Like that's such a definite eager history nerd moment. I can see why tumblr likes this guy.

Well that letter is a lot more friendly than I'm aware this turns out. I guess I'll see how it turns batshit crazy in the next couple days? I don't actually know how this story is really paced, but hopefully the next update happens tomorrow cause I really like this.

[moosemonstrous]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

Stolen from @swaps55 bc it looks fun and I'm stuck on a scene.

Rules: list the first lines(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern.

stillness of remembering

Zeb was old enough to be at peace with his personal limitations.

what you lost and what you had

Kallus would never admit it out loud, but there were certain things he missed about the Empire.

with open arms and with open doors

Caspar would be the first to admit he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

trying not to tell you always

Lorenz is in something of a predicament. That it is of his own making only makes him feel worse about it.

today is always gone tomorrow

Claude didn’t see Byleth fall. He was on the other side of the battlefield, doing his best to hide his terror and hold back the enemy soldiers from overtaking the south gate.

A long life

"Do you ever think about it?," Lexi asks, unable to keep the hollowness out of her voice.

Ashes

They haven’t always been together. Baze chose not to think about it, most days. It’s been over a decade since Chirrut was any further than an arm’s reach away from him, and he intended to keep it this way.

amid the voiceless mountains

It’s not that Echo doesn’t need sleep. He doesn’t need as much as the others, though, so the graveyard watch is usually his. He doesn’t mind. It’s nice to have a little time to himself --he hesitates to call it ‘quiet’ between Wrecker’s snoring and Marauder’s creaking-- to do some TLC on his connectors without Tech staring over his shoulder.

in spe salus

Wolffe knows he gets a little muddled sometimes. He prefers it to the sharp, hollow point his mind used to be before Gregor crashed their transport. It’s embarrassing, maybe, but a little embarrassment doesn’t hurt anything but his ego, and he doesn’t care for that as much as he used to, either.

did not go where I was knowing

The Charger is somehow more menacing up close than it was from across the hangar. Robbie tries to swallow and realises how dry his throat is.

Conclusion: Introduce POV character, apparently, either via a thesis statement or their immediate situation at the beginning of the story. A quick look through my wips confirms I haven't departed from this formula much over the years 😅 Well if it ain't broke...

No pressure tags: @ulfrsmal, @kermit-coded, @floralegia, @doreyg and anyone else who feels like it!

[silverhallow]

Evermore

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: after years of being "just friends" a birthday trip to a secluded cabin in the woods changes everything for Evermore...

warnings: Mentions of Oral Sex, Woman on Top, Missionary, fingering, nothing majorly graphic

word count: 3450

Rating: M

author's note: a little drabble that got a bit out of hand.

It was the weekend of Sophie’s 25th birthday, but she’d not felt like celebrating, she just wanted to stop at home, chill out, go see a movie and maybe go for a drink or two but her best friend, Benedict, decided to surprise her with a trip to the mountains. Just the two of them.

The drive hadn’t taken that long and they arrived early Friday evening, and it was so peaceful and serene. The moonlight flooding through the windows and all of the stars out gave everything a bit of a romantic feel. 

Sophie shook her head, she couldn’t believe that Benedict had picked a location that looked so romantic and secluded, they hadn’t been like that with one another for years.

Back in University when they first met, they’d slept together regularly but as they got closer and closer, it became apparent that the sex was complicating things and she’d been so terrified of getting hurt that they’d decided to just to remain friends and cut the sex element out of their relationship.

"Soph?" Benedict called from down the hall as she was stocking the fridge. "Did you know this place only has one bed?"

"Yeah, I mean why can't we share a bed? The bigger places didn't have hot tubs." she said as she gestured towards the glass door at the balcony with the Hot Tub. 

Benedict may have chosen the location but she had been the one to pick the chalet, she’d not given much thought about the sleeping arrangements but if she was in some cabin in the woods, she wanted to be able to use the hot tub.

"No... we can… but why do we need a hot tub? It's December."

"Exactly. It will be like drinking hot chocolate when it's cold. In fact, I'm going out there in a minute." Sophie grinned as she stood up, the fridge now fully stocked.

"Okay, well I think I'm actually going to get some sleep, it was a long drive and I want to get started early tomorrow." Benedict replied with a stretch

"Don't hog the blankets!" she yelled after him as he walked up the stairs towards the bedroom

About 30 minutes later, the kitchen was fully stocked and she’d sorted out their hiking gear for tomorrow. She headed up to the bathroom to change, her clothes where in the suitcase benedict had taken upstairs. Hewas already asleep, but he awoke when she sneezed from behind the door in the bathroom and she winced, hoping that it wouldn’t disturb him but she wasn’t so lucky.

"Soph?" she heard coming from the bedroom.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Sophie emerged from the bathroom wearing a silver string bikini. Benedict turned on the bedside lamp and Sophie saw his mouth open a little in shock.

Last time he had seen her naked, she’d been very thin but over the last 4 years she’d gained some weight, thanks to cooking for herself and being out from under her wicked stepmother. She’d developed and had curves in all the right places and she could tell that he was trying his hardest not to stare at her.

"It's okay." she smiled, she knew it was only natural and she knew her bikini left little to the imagination. 

Benedict couldn't peel his eyes from between her legs, and she felt herself starting to get a little wet. She told herself it was just hormones. she hadn't had good sex in a long time, and her body was craving the familiar, pushing down the stirring she felt whenever she was around him.

"Well, goodnight, i’ll try not to wake you when I come back up" and as difficult as it was, she decided the right thing to do was walk away.

It was very cold outside. Not quite cold enough to snow just yet but it was cold enough that it wouldn't have been feasible to stand out there in a bikini for more than a minute or two.

When she sank into the warm water, all her worries went away and she felt herself sigh contentedly.

She poured herself a Whiskey from the bottle she’d left outside, sat back, and stared at the stars. Just as the alcohol started to hit her, she heard Benedict opening the door and stepping out onto the balcony behind her.

"I can't sleep."

"Sorry Ben… I really didn't mean to wake you. You know I always sneeze at the most inconvenient times."

"I know but I saw you having a drink and thought maybe the whiskey might help me sleep."

"Oh, sure," she handed him the glass and he stood outside the hot tub drinking. "Why don't you just get in?" she asked with a brow raised knowing he must have been cold standing there.

"I don't want to get my boxers wet."

"Oh please, like I don't know what your dick looks like."

He choked on his drink and started coughing, his entire body going bright red.

"You mean get in naked?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll get naked, too, if that will make you feel more comfortable."

"You don't have to do that, but as long as you're okay with me being naked..."

Sophie nodded, and Benedict pulled his boxers off and she could see he was a little hard.

"Sorry." He blushed. Sophie just smiled and cursed herself mentally, she had forgotten how thick he was, but seeing his cock again immediately turned her on.

He took the seat right next to her, and they sat like that for a while, passing the glass back and forth until the amber liquid was gone.

Sophie let her head fall back on the edge of the hot tub as she let out a contented sigh, she felt good. Warm on the inside from the whiskey, and on the outside from the water.

Ben laughed, placing his hand on her thigh and she couldn’t help but watch it through the water.

"I'm glad I came here with you instead of staying home." Sophie looked up at him. He was so handsome, dark hair and stunning blue eyes, with perfect skin. He was tall and fit, but not aggressively so, it always made her stomach squirm when she saw him like this.

"Me too. You deserve nice things, you know. You work so hard, all the time, but you never stop to enjoy what you're working for."

"You're right," she replied, as she looked away, embarrassed. She had wasted her entire teens, dedicated it to trying to make her stepmother like her before she went to Uni and thought she was making progress, been to therapy and was building herself back up, she was nowhere near where she wanted to be in her life. She’d been single for years, she worked and worked and hardly had any time to enjoy her life.

In an effort to pull herself out of her spiral, she redirected the conversation onto him, "What about you? Are you getting utter fulfillment out of life Mr Hot-Shot Photographer?"

"No," He said, almost with a derisive snort. "Not even close."

"What more is it you want?" she asked curiously. She’d assumed he had everything, a career, he was always being linked to some stunning model or something and he had a family that Sophie would have killed for.

He didn't answer and Sophie thought it was odd so when she looked over at him, she was shocked to see that he was staring at her. A bright intensity, almost a pain in his eyes that she’d never seen before and it made her stomach squirm.

"What?"

"Soph…." He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"Ben? What? You can tell me anything you know…" Sophie rubbed his back, concerned that something was really wrong and he had been keeping it to himself.

"You have to know that I'm in love with you." he said, his eyes averted from her and she could tell the red tinge to his cheeks was nothing to do with the heat from the water.

Sophie felt her stomach drop and  she was sure it had just turned inside out. She’d honestly thought maybe they’d end up fucking, but never in her life did she expect a declaration of love. She’d always assumed he never felt that way about her… that she just wasn’t his type.

"Ben, I... How long have you felt this way?" she asked, a little taken aback as she tried to get her brain to process his words

"Years." he said honestly

"Years?!" she squeaked

"Yeah, I mean... I couldn't tell you after you said we should just be friends, because I knew you wouldn't talk to me anymore. And I would have rather had you around and secretly be in love with you than not have you around at all." he replied sadly.

"I had no idea." Sophie said in disbelief.

He snorted, "Come on.. You don’t give yourself enough credit Soph. You're absolutely stunningly beautiful, you're so smart and easy to talk to, funny, ambitious, great in bed, and I mean... look at your body. How could I not be in love with you?"

Sophie leaned into him, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly she was shocked he couldn’t hear it, "You really think i’m all of those things?"

"Of course I do Soph. You are an absolute goddess, stop letting the people around you tell you otherwise."

Sophie could see the sincerity in his eyes, and with her heart hammering, she leaned in, believing every word he said and kissed him.

He grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her back harder, putting every ounce of his feelings into the kiss, like it was his only chance, like it would be his only salvation, like it was their last kiss…

Sophie moved a bit closer to him and moaned into his mouth, and he pulled away, looking into her eyes and she saw the pain in his eyes and she knew what he was thinking before he said it, "Soph… I… I… don't know if we should."

Benedict grabbed her hand beneath the water, stroking her palm with his thumb, he knew how she felt about rejection, about being pushed away and the sense of abandonment she’d been dealing with in years of therapy but he was protecting himself, he couldn’t go back into a casual thing with her, but he didn’t want to lose her.

"Benni..." He looked up, she knew he hated being called Benni, unless it was by her because she.  only used this moniker when she was being serious. "I feel the same way you do." she admitted.

Benedict just stared at her and a quiet fell around them, she could see the confusion in his face and eyes, especially because she had been the one to end things. Finally after what felt like hours, he asked “why did you say we should only be friends? I don’t get it… if… if you felt like this… like that…"

"I was scared," She replied honestly, her heart hammering knowing she owed him this. "It was so much, so fast and I’d fallen so madly in love with you and I kept hearing the voices in my head telling me I wasn’t good enough for you, that you didn’t feel the same way I was terrified of getting my heart broken, of it not working out and you leaving me as well. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing your friendship, too. So I thought it was better to cut the romantic element out. But all I did was make myself miserable. And made you miserable as well apparently” she said sadly as she looked away from him, ashamed that she’d hurt him in such a way.

Benedict placed a hand on her cheek and tilted it up so that her green eyes met his and just stared at her for a moment, taking in the moment before he caressed her cheek and pulled her onto his lap, her legs wrapping around him straddling him.

"Tell me." he whispered, needing to hear the words for himself, the three little words that would forever change their lives.

Sophie placed her hand on his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the tenderness and closeness before she whispered, "I love you, Ben. I have for a long time."

He pulled her up to face him again and pressed his lips to hers, taking her lower lip into his mouth and giving it a playful and tender bite.

"You're my dream girl, my muse, my everything" he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, caressing where he’d just bitten, "You know that?"

Sophie moaned as he kissed and licked her neck, undoubtedly marking her as he went, it used to drive her mad when they were together and he undoubtedly remembered the reaction.

Benedict grinned into her flesh as he untied her bikini top so he could have unrestricted access and Sophie watched as it floated out of sight. 

Her nipples hardened immediately from the cold air and Benedict kissed down her chest taking his time to cover every inch of her breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth causing her to moan. He licked, sucked, or gently bit one while he softly rubbed the other... then he'd switch driving her mad with desire and need.

Sophie arched back into his mouth desperate for more when she suddenly became very aware of his hard cock between them.

She started grinding on him, harder and harder, until he spanked her arse hard and she yelped, having not expected it.

"Careful now." he warned as he lifted her slightly and moved them to the edge of the hot tub where he grabbed her towel and laid her down on top of it and tugged at the sides of her bikini bottoms, removing them and tossing them behind them.

The coolness of the December eve did not bother them as they were lost to the heat of the moment and the passion between them. 

He captured her lips once more in a fiery kiss that consumed them both, his hands moved up her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he rubbed her clit in slow circles as they made out.

His mouth muffled her moans, but neither of them were concerned about their noise levels as there was nobody around for miles. Just the two of them and the passion that burned between them. Years of longing and desperation pouring into one another.

Sophie felt herself getting hotter and closer to the edge, desperate to cum and just as she was about to tell him, to beg him for more, he slipped two fingers inside her, forcing the last word to come out in a long moan and she screamed into his lips, riding out the intense orgasm.

Before she’d had a chance to recover, Benedict had moved with a speed she’d forgotten he possessed and replaced his fingers with his lips and tongue and she felt like she was in heaven, staring up at the stars as orgasm after orgasm rolled through her body.

She’d thought Benedict had been good in bed back in University but this was nothing short of spectacular, the true definition of making love. 

Their confession, their desire and love for one another made the moment all the more special.

"Do you want to move inside?" she asked, stroking his hair as his head rested on her thigh, as he was giving her a brief moment of respite, as she felt the cold starting to creep over her body.

"I would love that." He kissed her flesh where his mouth was before getting up and scoping her up into his arms and carrying her through the chalet into the bedroom where he laid her down on the bed settling himself between her legs, rubbing his rock hard cock along her clit, knowing how desperate she was, knowing how badly he wanted it but he was determined to make her beg for it.

"Please Ben," she moaned. "Please Benni…I've waited long enough. Please fuck me…” she begged and that was all the encouragement he required as with one forceful and deliberate thrust, he was buried deep within her.

"Oh fuck, Soph" he groaned, knowing he was finally home after all these years. "You're so wet, fuck." He leaned down and kissed her before he started to pound harder. After a few minutes of thrusting, kissing and clinging to one another Sophie moaned “I want to ride you”

Benedict, not being one to disappoint his lady, rolled them so she on top, without ever pulling out of her. 

With a wicked smirk, she leaned back and began moving her hips slowly as he tilted his own so he was hitting her g spot so perfectly. 

Sophie had always loved showing off for him, the way he watched her with lust and disbelief and now she had confidence in her body, no longer felt ashamed by her figure and her ribs, she began to really put on a show for him, as she ground her hips against him, riding him faster and faster until she’d lost all sense of time, place and her sensibilities.

It was only until Benedict sat up, pulling her tighter on top of him and he licked up her cheek towards her ear and whispered, "I'm going to fuck you so good that you never want another cock, that you’ll only ever need my cock" He spanked her arse as she moaned causing her to yelp. "Now, be a good girl and get on your stomach” he said squeezing her arse and she clambered off him and lay down.

Benedict lay her in a prone position and lay atop of her, pinning her wrists behind her back and slid his cock up and down her pussy a few times, teasing her

“Ben please… please just fuck me… fuck me til I can’t walk!” she screamed at him, unable to take his teasing anymore.

Without a word he slammed himself in, burning himself so completely that he was almost balls deep within her and she screamed in pleasure, she’d never felt so full, so complete as she did in that moment.

"Your pussy is so fucking tight, so fucking hot" he growled, slowing his thrusts. "Fuck, Soph. You're going to make me cum already." he admitted as he stopped completely for a moment, still buried deep within her, not moving, just giving himself a moment to compose himself as he moved his fingers up and down her spine, tracing the freckles on her back and stroking my hair. This was what she always loved about him, what she’d missed whenever she had sex with another person, what always made her crave him…. He was the perfect blend of rough and gentle.

Especially with her and she realised how much of a fool she’d been, how blind she’d been and before she could open her mouth to apologise, to say something… 

Benedict began to move again and all thoughts were lost to the perfection of the moment.

She felt herself being pounded directly into the mattress. His thrusts were perfect and in sync, and she came harder than she’d ever cum in her entire life, her voice would be hoarse tomorrow and she felt her walls spasming as she screamed and her body convulsed around his cock.

Benedict couldn't hold back any longer when he felt her pussy tighten around him, the feeling that he was home, the place he belonged, with the woman he had loved in silent heartbreak for the last few years and he grabbed her by the hips and came deep inside her with the most guttural noise he had ever heard himself make. It was perfection, it was everything that he’d dreamed.

Sophie carefully rolled over as his now limp cock fell out of her and he collapsed on top of her, placing little kisses on her collarbone, both of them letting their hands roam over the other, just touching and desperate to never stop touching the other, knowing that this, today was the start of the rest of their lives, and totally worth the horrific cold that they’d both wake up with in the morning.

Benedict’s eyes fell to the clock and he saw it was after midnight, today was officially Sophie’s birthday and he leaned over with a gentle and loving kiss to her lips and whispered,  "I love you, Soph. Happy birthday.”

Sophie whispered back “I love you too, this has been the best birthday ever…”

[glimmeringtwilight]

Misfortunate

Short Scaramouche piece so I get this short angry lad out of my system (if any of you make a "that's what she said" joke I'm smiting you). Technically proofread but does it really count if I only worked on this at 1am. I'll tweak the formatting tomorrow. Put below a cut for the length, not for the content (SFW).

CW: mild violence, Scaramouche (he's his own warning. He's a prick), mild dehumanization, yandere themes, mild description of injury.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Trouble follows you. 

It’s like your shadow, tailing after you wherever you go. People call you unlucky. Clear skies turn to pouring rain, rockslides narrowly miss you in tight passes, avalanches on snowy mountain peaks, you name it. It was like the world was trying to bury you beneath it, but by some small miracle you’ve always barely managed to get out of whatever new misfortune that befell you.  

You’re beginning to think “cursed” might be a more accurate term. That’s the only thing that comes to mind as you clutch your bleeding arm to your chest, stumbling through dark corridors as voices ring out around you. 

“Find them!” To your left. You go right, moving as quietly as you can manage. 

The air here is thick. Suffocating. You don’t know what the purple fog dancing along the floors is, but you’re sure you’re bound to find out, cloth bandana completely useless at blocking it out. You taste metal. 

The hallways here seem to wind on forever. By design, probably, if you had to guess. You can’t be doing… whatever nefarious shit the fatui gets up to, in a regular building, no. And apparently nothing screams “nefarious” more than identical rooms and long, disorienting hallways. 

At least it seems to be affecting your pursuers as much as it is you, their voices still distant as they search for you. But you’re sure that the poor design of this place won’t save you for long. 

You step into a side room after a quick check to be sure it’s empty, stopping to catch your breath.

Think. You just need to… think. Catch your breath, stop the bleeding– you’re sure you’ve left a trail of blood in your wake, but it’s so damn dark in here you doubt they’ll even see it– and try to-

“So this is the rat my men have been chasing for the past half-hour.”

Haha, fuck. 

You freeze in place, holding your breath (as if that’ll do anything). Steeling your resolve, you turn your head stiffly and glance over your shoulder to see who it is that found you.

“Well? Are you deaf or just stupid? Or do you have nothing to say?” 

There’s a quiet jingling sound, metal against metal, and you strain to make out the figure in the darkness as he steps closer. You can definitely make out the big, gaudy hat he wears, the brim dipped too low to let you see much more than his mouth. 

You realize he’s still waiting for you to say something when he tsks, hand twitching by his side, and fear jumpstarts your mouth before it jumpstarts your brain, blurting the first thing that comes to mind. 

“You should invest in better structural engineers. And fire whoever designed this place.” Brilliant. Now instead of just killing you, maybe he’ll spit on your corpse too. 

He says nothing, the silence dragging on following your response, interrupted by the occasional distant shout and the steady drip, drip, drip of your blood hitting the floor. Why isn’t he calling the others over? Why didn’t he just kill you outright?

Come to think of it, you remember him mentioning “his men”... Fuck. Is he running this operation?

You don’t have the chance to dwell on it, snapping back to the present when a dry laugh cuts through the silence. It’s short, devoid of any real humor, and the back of your neck prickles with unease. 

“Stupid, then.” The hat tips up, just slightly. “How did you get in?”

“I fell in.”

“You fell in.” He sounds unconvinced, and more than just a little annoyed. 

“I was just… exploring-” The stranger’s mouth twists into a scowl at the vagueness of your reply, and you rush to elaborate before he decides to stop stalling murdering you- “fine! I- Onikabuto. I was looking for- for onikabuto, and the ground caved in under my feet. I didn’t even know this was down here, I swear, so-”

“Quiet.” Your mouth snaps shut. He stalks forward, snapping at you to “stay put” when you stagger back half a step in response, and you freeze. Maybe if you play nice, you can still talk your way out of this…

He stops a few feet away from you, crossing his arms, and you watch the hat dip with the movement of his head. Maybe you could catch him by surprise and-

A hand seizes your face in a bruising grip, thin fingers indenting the clammy skin of your cheeks so hard your teeth painfully dig into the sides of it. When you instinctively try to pull out of his grasp, the fingers of his other hand hook underneath your bandana, yanking it off your face so it hangs loosely around your neck and fisting the fabric to hold you in place.

His hand reclaims its place, gripping your jaw just as tightly as he holds you still by the bandana around your neck with the other. 

Indigo eyes meet your own, and the stranger jerks your head to the side, appraising you like one would a show dog.

“Wha- Hey-” Your head is jerked the other way, the movement less harsh than the first as you consciously turn your head with the movement the second time, anticipating the rough handling. 

“You’re making a mess.” He notes after a beat, eyes narrowing at the large gash on your arm that continues to drip blood. 

“I’m… sorry?” You mumble, words slurring with the way his grip on your face tightens. You’re not really sure how to respond to that. What, does he expect you to just stop bleeding because it’s pissing him off?

He tsks, letting go of you, and you rub the sore skin to soothe the ache left behind from his unnecessary roughness. You’re starting to think it’d be better if one of his lackeys found you first. They’d have killed you by now, sure, but it would have at least been quick. 

“Are you going to kill me?” No point in beating around the bush, you suppose. What’s he gonna do, say “yes” and then stab you? 

… Well. He could. But you hope not. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” Is his vague response, turning on a heel and walking away from you like he didn’t just finish manhandling you. 

You stare at his retreating figure, wondering whether or not that was the end of it. Is he just… letting you go? Is he trying to bait you into getting your hopes up, so he can crush them under his heel and laugh as he kills you?

“Well?” He stops, turning to look back at you when you continue to stare blankly at his retreating form. “Come. Or I’ll leave you here for my men.” 

While you don’t like the idea of following him anywhere, there’s not much other option, and he doesn’t seem keen on killing you yet, at least.

You follow him out of the room and into the corridor, listening to the tinkling of the metal ornaments on his hat and his deceptively heavy footsteps. Is he… making his footsteps heavier on purpose? 

You didn’t hear him earlier, when he snuck up on you (you know he wasn’t in the room when you entered, that big, gaudy hat of his would have given him away). So does he… stomp around most of the time? On purpose? Why? To sound like he’s bigger than he is? Or is he just always pissed?

The image of this man stomping around this shady hideout to make himself sound bigger and more intimidating almost rips a hysterical giggle out of you, but you focus instead on keeping the veil from smacking you in the face as you walk behind him. 

You could technically walk further back, but you don’t want to test his patience by giving him the impression you’re sneaking away, and you get the distinct sense that he’d take great offense to you walking side-by-side with him. 

“What’s your name?” He asks after a few minutes of walking. 

Well. Not like he’ll kill you for your name, right? And maybe knowing that, he’ll hesitate when it comes down to that… If. If it comes down to that.

You tell him your name, and he says nothing, not even acknowledging he heard you. …Whatever. You’re not repeating yourself. 

He doesn’t supply his own name, so you decide to ask. “And yours?”

“Scaramouche.” 

Then it’s silence once more. You realize that the men who were chasing you have stopped shouting, and you can’t hear their frantic search for you anymore. Did they give up? Do they know Scaramouche found you first?

He leads you into a room you recognize as the same one you fell into, sunlight illuminating the sparsely-decorated space. You also recognize the pyro agent who slashed your arm, already kneeling by the time your eyes adjust to the bright light. 

“Lord Scaramouche-”

“Save it. Get this hole fixed, and check the rest of the base for any other structural weaknesses. If we have any more surprise visitors,” Scaramouche gestures sharply towards you, “You’ll be joining them at the bottom of the ocean.” 

“...Yes sir.” The agent’s voice trembles, just slightly. 

You’re really starting to think it would have been better if anyone else had found you first, not missing the strained reediness in the agent’s voice that wasn’t there when he was trying to kill you. Another’s hands are shaking, barely visible from where you stand. Why are they so scared of him…?

“You.” Scaramouche turns to another one of his lackeys, not batting an eye at the way they visibly flinch, “Find me a first-aid kit. Bring it to my office.”

“Yessir.”

Your stomach sinks when Scaramouche starts walking again, not even sparing you a glance, just the silent expectation to “follow” as he sets off down the halls. 

The agent who attacked you mutters a quiet “poor thing” under his breath, and you pretend not to hear. Pretend not to feel the weight of their eyes watching the two of you leave. 

Once you’re out of earshot, Scaramouche stops, glancing over his shoulder at you, then at the bandana dangling loosely around your neck. “I think I’ll get you a collar, to replace that ugly thing.”

His eyes flit back up from your neck, and he laughs cruelly at your expression. “What? You should be thanking me. I’ve decided to let you live.”

Scaramouche doesn’t seem to be interested in any actual thanks from you, though, already turning back around and continuing to walk. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Maybe trouble doesn’t follow you after all, you think, as you trail stiffly behind him. Maybe you’ve been following trouble all along.