#Chapter One: A Lonely Island Right?

[naminethewriter]

How It All Began

Chapter One: A Lonely Island, Right?

Masterpost | Next | Ao3

Story Summary: Remus, son of a simple fisherman, had worked hard to become the captain of his own pirate ship. And in his humble opinion, it was going great! His crew was small but reliable and they had just stolen something that could them some nice cash from a military vessel they happened to cross on the open sea. They just needed to hide it somewhere until it was safe to sell. How lucky for them that they come across a nice, uninhabited island.

Little did Remus know just who he would find on that little piece of land and how it would change his life entirely.

Content Warning: Pirates, Innuendo, Minor Violence, Pistols

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“Land ahoy!”

Remus could just hear Sloane’s shout through the open porthole in his captain quarters. With a hum he put away the star chart he’d been studying before standing up to look out the window onto the unusually calm sea. According to his maps, they weren’t close to any inhabited islands, which meant that he should be able to find a good hiding place for his newest acquisition.

He glanced over to the box he had placed the seal in when a knock sounded from his door.

“Captain?” It was Patton. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, daddy-o, if you wanna take the risk!” He could practically see Patton hesitating, wondering if he was ‘indecent’ as he called it. Still, a few moments later the door opened and his friend poked his head in, prepared to flee if Remus was not properly dressed after all. He let out a sigh of relief to see his Captain wearing all his clothes.

“Sloane spotted an island. What should we do?” Normally, Remus would tease him a bit about his continued shyness even after travelling with them for over two years now, but he had more important things to deal with at the moment.

“I’ll take a look myself.” He grabbed his hat and with measured steps moved past Patton, who closed the door behind him and followed. “Anything suspicious so far?”

“Not that I know of. We haven’t come across anymore ships since the Admiral’s. And I still have a bad feeling about that one, how come it was only the one ship and not a fleet?” Out of the corner of his eyes, Remus could see Patton wringing his hands together nervously. Remus couldn’t understand how he was still so uncomfortable with the pirate lifestyle. At least he wore the outfit with more confidence, his light brown curls held back by a bandana and his skin having a healthy tan.

“There’re all kinds of reasons that could happen, Pat, it’s not unheard of. And nobody’s following us, so there’s no need to worry about it anymore anyway. We did the hit, we got something out of it, nobody saw us. Everything’s peachy.”

“Well, if you say so…”

“I do. Trust your Captain, Paps, by the time they’ve noticed that the seal’s gone, we won’t have it on board anymore. In a few months, when they stop the extra controls to look for it, we’ll get it back and sell it for a nice price.”

They reached the main deck at that point so Patton didn’t bother to respond. Remy spotted them immediately and yelled, “Capt’n on deck!” Upon his call, Sloane hurried down from the crow’s nest, hurried over to them and handed Remus a spyglass. The lithe young man could have been an acrobat in a circus with how skilled he descended the rope ladder, his dark blond hair dancing in the wind.

“It’s right over there,” Slone said as he came to a stop next to Remus, pointing north-west, a little off their current course. “So far I haven’t spotted anything in the vicinity.”

“Should probably do a sail around to be sure,” Remy commented, also now standing next to them. “The forest on there’s pretty thick, we can’t see the other side.”

“Boatswain! Your thoughts?” Remus called up to Corbin currently at the helm. Of course he trusted Remy as his First Mate and he probably would order a sail around anyway, but he liked to hear the opinion of his crew on matters like this.

Corbin was a great navigator with a more calculated approach that was very unlike Remus’ style, so it was nice to hand off the more responsible stuff to him. But it also meant that sometimes he had to wait for Corbin to finish thinking things through and Remus hated waiting. He used the time to take a look at the island himself with the spyglass Sloane had handed him.

It wasn’t a big chunk of land. He estimated they would need about three hours to sail around it with the wind they were having today, and they should be able to do that before sundown. The forest, as Remy had called it, was more akin to a jungle, which for the purposes of hiding stuff was always preferrable. Maybe he could even find a cave or two in the cliff faces surrounding the eastern side.

“I agree with the First Mate,” Corbin finally called. “We should make a wider berth in case of reefs since this part of the ocean isn’t as well chartered yet.”

“Let’s do that then. Pat, inform the rest of the crew, we’ll most likely drop anchor there tonight.”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

“And you go back to your post, Sloane.”

“Aye aye!” With that both of them were gone and he was left alone with Remy.

“Anything to report?” Remus asked, not really expecting much of an answer. Don’t get him wrong, he liked Remy and he was a good First Mate most of the time, but in situations like this where they’ve been just sailing for a while, he tended to slack off a bit.

“Nah, everyone’s fine as far as I know. Well, Toby’s a bit salty that we didn’t shoot at the Admiral but other than that.”

“What else is new?” Remus chuckled. Toby was a more than enthusiastic Man-at-arms with a love for explosives, though he preferred to shoot at objects and not people. He had practically begged Remus to let him fire at least one shot at the Admiral’s ship as they sailed away, but giving up their cover for that was chaos even Remus didn’t endorse.

Remy snorted in response before looking more serious.

“What are your orders for when we land? Who stays, who comes with?”

“If the cost is clear and we land, I’ll go alone. The rest of you have some free time.”

“You sure?” Remy glanced at his captain over the rim of his darkened glasses. “We’ve got no idea what’s on that island.”

“’Course I’m sure. The less you all know of what we got and where it is, the better. I can handle myself against whatever inhabitants there are.”

“If you say so,” Remy shrugs. “I won’t say no to an evening off.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“I’m gonna go prepare for landing then.”

“Go ahead.” Remus watched Remy walk away. No doubt his First Mate was off to grab some booze and his boyfriend instead of actually doing what they need to drop anchor. Well, he couldn’t blame him, in his shoes he would do the same. After all, they’ve done this exact same thing a million times before. Still, as Remus caught sight of Elliot hurrying across deck, he told them to get everything ready for landing instead. Better prepared than dead is a philosophy even Remus could get behind.

~~~

By the time the rowboat with Remus, Patton and Elliot hit the shore of the island, it was nearing sundown. Remus guessed he had about another hour or so to scope out the place for a good hiding spot. For now, he had left the box containing the seal on the ship but it would be ideal if he could get rid of it early tomorrow morning and then they could sail off to the nearest harbor.

Not wanting to waste more time, he turned to his two crewmembers.

“I’ll take a look around and come back. Neither of you get off this beach unless it’s life or death, you hear me?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Patton agreed while Elliot simply nodded. They seemed tired, so Remus thought giving them a break off of the ship and away from everyone for a few hours would do them some good. Patton could keep an eye out for trouble. With a grin, Remus pulled out his machete and made his way across the beach and into the jungle.

The smell in the air shifted quite noticeably as Remus continued into the greenery. He couldn’t place the scents, but it was a much heavier air than on the open sea. His eyes flitted about, searching for any dangers. He could hear animals rustling in the leaves and spotted shadows move but nothing big enough to truly worry him. He knew how to look out for snakes and spiders that might be venomous, but he didn’t feel like risking getting attacked by an ape or something similar, though the island was too small to house them anyway.

Remus made his way through the greenery, hacking away with his machete when he couldn’t find another way through the underbrush when he spotted what looked like a path. Not a well-travelled one, but a path nonetheless. Once he reached it, he crouched down to look for tracks on the ground, either human or a large animal. He found what looked like boot imprints, though several days old. Still, they were fresh enough for him to identify. But they hadn’t seen any ships or even rowboats on their sail around, so he couldn’t imagine someone remained on here.

Curiosity beckoned him along the path however, and he continued forward, keeping his machete in hand. He had to duck under some branches here and there – he paid attention to keeping his hat, he liked this one and was not keen on trying to find a replacement – but otherwise it was a quiet trip. Remus figured it was about time he started heading back to his crew when the path lead past a chasm that looked somewhat deep. Now that he thought about it, he might have been travelling on an incline. From where he stood, Remus couldn’t see the bottom of the pit. Maybe he should throw a rock and listen to how long it took to land? Or maybe just take one small step closer, get a better vantage point?

“I would advise you to stay away from the edge. The ground is quite unstable, and the fall would surely lead to death.”

Remus spun around, raising his machete towards the stranger that had suddenly appeared behind him. The man looked at him through a pair of glasses that looked like they went out of fashion several decades ago. His clothes didn’t look better, though they were rather plain looking. Pants, a long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and a vest. Still, something was off about the outfit to Remus. He narrowed his eyes until it hit him – the clothes were worn down sure, but otherwise the stranger looked too clean for someone who apparently lived on an abandoned island. His black hair was neatly tied into a ponytail and not a single hair was on his face, nobody bothered to shave when they’re trapped on an island!

The stranger continued staring at Remus, his brown eyes drilling into him and suddenly he remembered how to speak.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” he exclaimed. The other cocked his head before motioning towards the path leading further into the jungle.

“I came from my camp. I was on my way to examine some fungal growth I have been observing for my research. Where did you come from?”

“My ship.” Remus gestured behind himself as he slowly moved away from the chasm towards the direction he came. The stranger looked harmless, but he knew that appearances can’t tell you everything. For all he knew that man could try to attack him at any moment and standing next to a cliff definitely wasn’t where he wanted to be in that moment.

“We did a sail around. There were no other ships.”

“Indeed.”

“Then you shipwrecked?”

“No, I came here on purpose.”

“Without a way back?”

“Without a ship, yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“For research purposes. There are many species that only live on this island or can develop freely here without the influence of humans.” The calmness of the stranger was very unnerving to Remus. He was holding a big ass knife after all, but the man didn’t seem bothered by it in the least. Instead, his eyes wandered around until he seemed to spot something of interest on the ground and casually kneeled down a few feet away to inspect it. Remus used that opportunity to switch the machete for his pistol.

��You are a scientist then?”

“Yes. And you are a pirate, I presume?” Remus narrowed his eyes. He grew up the son of a fisherman, he knows when something smells fishy. And this stranger smelled very strongly.

“What off it?”

“Nothing. I was merely attempting to converse with you. Whatever your business on this island is, it’s no concern of mine as long as it doesn’t interfere with my research. So please try to not disturb the wildlife as much as possible during your stay.”

“Why did you approach me if you didn’t care about what I do here?”

“Because I feared you might fall.”

“The fuck do you care whether I fall or not?”

“I simply do, is that so surprising?” The stranger stood, apparently done inspecting the ground. He watched Remus, seemingly very curious about his answer.

“Well, yeah. Most people I’ve met don’t care about others just ‘cause. ‘Specially not a castaway.”

“I am not a castaway.”

“Yeah, just a weirdo on a deserted island.”

“Think of me whatever you like, it is none of my concern,” the man sighed before looking up to the sky. Remus followed his glance for a second, seeing the first stars appear. He needed to make his way back.

“You should return to your ship,” the stranger said as if he read his mind and that was just too freaky for Remus to handle. Without another thought he took aim at the stranger’s shoulder and pulled the trigger. He hit his mark – of course he did, he was one of the best shooters on the seas – causing the man to stumble. To stumble right towards the chasm.

To Remus it was like time slowed down as he watched the ground under the stranger break away. He lost his footing and suddenly, he was out of sight. Remus stood frozen, listening to the sounds of the body colliding with stone several times before a loud crunch announced its arrival at the bottom. The man was surely dead.

Another look towards the sky reminded Remus that he should make his way back to the ship pronto. He pulled out his compass just to make sure he didn’t get lost on the way back. A last glance towards the chasm before he disappeared back the way he came. It wasn’t the first time he killed on accident. By tomorrow, the weird feeling in his stomach would be gone. He was sure of it.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eighteen

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Nothing super specific, but things get pretty dark (at least in my opinion). Mentions of torture.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel grabbed Rhys by the front of his jacket, hands shaking horribly despite all his efforts to stop. It had started this morning, when another disastrous attempt to talk to Andrian had left Azriel with his mind in shambles, knife pressed against his own throat. It had been going on for weeks now. Someway, somehow, Andrian would find a way to break through Azriel’s defenses and force him to relieve his worst memories. Sometimes he dreamt of his burning hands. Mostly he thought of you, and the day he’d nearly killed you. 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Azriel growled desperately. “Tell me!” 

It was too easy for him to pick out when his brother was speaking with Feyre, and something about the way Rhysand had been looking at him— like he was a fraction of a second away from splintering into a million pieces — told Azriel enough about who had been sent for. You were the only one who could calm him. The only one who could do what he and Rhys had failed to do. 

Violet eyes shone from a perfectly handsome face. A face he knew too well. A face that he wanted to punch right now. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, brother,” Rhysand responded gravely. 

Azriel slammed his fist against the wall instead, taking out a chunk of granite that spit grey dust into the air. He swore beneath his breath, pacing the hallway and trying to steady his racing heart. He’d never wanted you to see this place. He’d never even wanted you to step foot on the island above, its rolling peaks a stark contrast to the tunnels below where Azriel conducted his business. Business that stained his hands a thousand shades of red. 

“You’ve been working yourself ragged, Az, and Andrian still hasn’t said anything. Not to you. Not to me. We need to know all we can about Koschei. Vassa’s on the brink of madness. Henna’s dead. I can’t even get past Andrian’s mental wards. What the fuck are we meant to do?” 

“So you thought to go behind my back and bring Y/n into this?! She’s not something for you to use, Rhys.” 

“She’s already in this mess.” Rhys reminded him, as he often did. His eyes softened as he looked to the locked door at the end of the hall with its small, rectangular window. Bars breaking up the lamplight glowing from within. “And you know she’d agree this is the best course of action. She’ll be able to do it.” 

Azriel’s hands shook. “Give me another week and I’ll get us the information we need. Tell Feyre to turn around. Don’t bring Y/n here.” Don’t let her see this part of me.

“The boy doesn’t have another week. He doesn’t even have a day.” 

The shaking traveled throughout Azriel’s entire body. His eyes darkened and he began the process of hiding his heart away within the void that curled inside of him. That wicked beast that was always on the verge of swallowing him whole. 

Feyre winnowed you both to the outskirts of the northern territories and you went from sweating in your fur-lined leathers to shivering in the knee deep snow. The Illyrian Mountains rose behind you like predatorial rows of shark teeth and the endless sea stretched in front, slate grey and empty except for lonely ripples of sea foam. Through the frosty haze you could make out a smattering of islands, each with their own tooth-like tips capped with snow and ice. Feyre looked at you, her eyes leaning more towards blue now that she’d tapped into the Winter Court’s power to stave off the cold. 

The Warren was protected by wards that made winnowing impossible, so you let Feyre scoop you up in her powerful arms, wings growing from her back like unfurling shadows before the ground dropped away from her feet and she took off into the sky. 

You clung to her shoulders, eyes slamming shut so you wouldn’t have to look down at the churning black waters and the rocks they crashed against. If you were to fall now, you could only hope you drown before the waves ripped your body to pieces against the rocks like meat torn between a pair of canines. 

You stayed frozen and tight as a coil until the rush of wind stopped and you no longer felt your stomach creeping up into your throat. You could have dropped to your knees and kissed the ground if you weren’t sure your lips would freeze there. You did shove your hands into the gritty sand though, breathing slowly through your nose until you finally had the strength to stand. 

Feyre led you down the long stretch of beach, waves whistling in the wind — a haunting, beautiful melody, like a woman crying. 

Azriel had discovered The Warren centuries ago. After a particularly brutal brawl that had left him with a broken arm and cracked ribs, he’d taken to the skies, desperate to escape the hard packed floors and burning scent of sex mixed with alcohol that seemed to invade every corner of the Windhaven barracks. He’d been fighting over a woman, a woman that had been dragged into the rowdy common room trembling with the telltale sign of a whisky haze over her burnt umber eyes, dress ripped and muddy. 

Did it even matter that he’d brought her back untouched to that leaning house with its wooden slabs frosted over and the chimney coughing up black smoke like a diseased lung? Azriel had wondered as he flew without a destination in mind. And when he’d finally collapsed on the island, frozen ground beneath his hands and knees and spitting out blood from his cut up gums, his shadows had tugged him towards the gaping mouth of The Warren, urging him to explore a darkness that was his and his alone. It had been his escape. A safe place in the world that had so few. But when Rhysand became High Lord and he the Spymaster, Azriel hadn’t hesitated to give up The Warren in the service of the Night Court, adding it to the long list of sacrifices he made so that he might actually start to feel like he deserved his place with his family. 

You stilled in front of The Warren’s entrance, black walls glittering and damp from sea spray. Jagged, cracked bone rocks hovered overhead like axes ready to fall, jutting out of a cliffside and curling over the beach in the shape of a hunched back or an unhinged jaw. Wind whistled from within like asthma — high-pitched and keening. 

“This is where you keep all your prisoners.” You weren’t asking a question, merely stating a fact. 

Feyre had had little time for explanations back at the House. She’d focused on defending your body against the frigid cold to come, her mind split between you and Rhysand as he worried over Azriel from miles away. 

“Not all of them. Only the ones Azriel finds useful.” 

“The ones he plans to torture for information.” 

From somewhere deep within the earth you swore you heard the clanging of chains, a growl, and a desperate groan that had the hair on your neck rising. 

Feyre’s usual warmth was gone, replaced by something with more tact and less care. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart, Y/n. And neither is Azriel. He’s tried to hide this from you, but it’s as much a part of him as anything else and if you care for him as much as I believe you do, you’re going to need to get used to this.” 

There was the faintest flicker of doubt in your heart. “Andrian… he’s just a boy… you haven’t—Az hasn’t—”

“No,” Feyre said quickly. Horrified. “Azriel found him weeks ago trying to slip back into Day Court. We brought him here because it’s the most heavily warded place in Prythian and because the world needs to be protected from him as much as he needs to be protected from the world.” She grabbed your hands. They felt cold as ice. “Y/n. I swear to you, we haven’t hurt that boy. We won’t hurt him.” 

“I know. I just… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Already you felt sick to your stomach just for asking. Azriel was many things — dangerous, cruel to those he felt were deserving of it, maybe even murderous at times — but he was still Az… and you weren’t afraid. Not even as you let Feyre lead you into The Warren, and you were swallowed whole.  

The mouth of the cave quickly narrowed into a tunnel before turning at a severe angle and twisting like a corkscrew downward. If it weren’t for you and Feyre’s glowing bodies, you might have missed one of The Warren’s slick steps and tumbled down forever. 

You passed by two offshoots, each branching out into their own secret tunnels that whispered and echoed and smelled faintly of blood. Coppery and sour. 

One of the rooms you walked through smelled like metal and limestone. The rust-colored ground and drain in the center of the floor told you all you needed to know about its purpose and before you could stop yourself, before you could even think about whether this was truly a good idea, you found yourself pressing a hand against one of the chains hanging from the ceiling. 

If Feyre was right and this was truly a part of Azriel — something horrible that needed to come with all of the good that he was — then you wanted to know. You felt that you had some right to know, and if it was the power the Mother had granted you, then you would use it when you saw fit. 

Feyre froze when your power flooded the room without warning, feeling the energy and fury radiating off your skin without even turning to look at you. You kept the memories a safe distance away, but drank in the knowledge of every horrible hand that had hung from that ceiling like you were reading a list of names from a book. You read their crimes. You read every drop of blood that Azriel had spilled on the ground. 

“Y/n?” Feyre asked tentatively, fearfully, when you blinked and released the chain. 

She had every hope the bond would snap in place for you soon and that you’d help end Azriel’s centuries of loneliness. That you might be the one to finally show him he was deserving of kindness. But to love Azriel as he was, with all his rough edges and the pain he could inflict as much as he carried… it was not for the faint of heart.  

“I understand why Azriel wanted to hide this place from me. This part of him,” you said quietly and to no one in particular. Not even to Feyre. “But he shouldn’t have.” Your eyes turned harder than stone. “They deserved it. Each and every one of them.” 

Feyre stood, shocked into silence, and it wasn’t until you gripped her arm and nudged her into the next room that she found she was able to walk again. 

You passed by more hallways and more rooms, some disturbingly clean and empty, others with chains hanging from the ceiling or littered on the floor. But the strangest part was, you could smell Azriel within these cramped walls, and that alone made you quicken your steps. 

You chased that familiar scent, walking confidently through the dark and passing Feyre until you were spit out in a long, neat tunnel with one metal door at the end. Tendrils of shadow flickered from around the corner. 

“Azriel?” 

Your heart pounded in your chest when you saw him leaning against the wall, hands folded behind his back. Rhys’s eyes flickered to you, then to his mate as she followed closely behind. Azriel stiffened, his eyes locked and heavy. Shadows tugged at his eyes and accentuated the sharpness of his cheeks. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he left you… which wasn’t so far from the truth. Because the whole time he’d been here, he’d been thinking of you, and the ways you might hate him for what he did and the sick corners of his soul. For—

You sailed into his arms, wrapping yourself around his torso and pressing your face into the hollow of his neck. Part of your mind chastised you, calling you silly and desperate as it reminded you it had only been ten days since you’d last seen him. But you didn’t care. It felt far longer than that. Too long. 

You needed this almost as much as he did. 

You disappeared behind his wings, cocooned safely in membranous folds and shadows that kissed your skin. Azriel himself buried his face in your hair, feeling some of his worst worries dissipate. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t been so disgusted as to leave just yet. 

“Y/n,” he murmured your name before kissing your temple. “Gods, I missed you.” 

“I would hope so.” You murmured into the curve of his jaw, “I might be a boring bookworm but I’m better company than this place.” 

Azriel winced. “You have no idea.”

You missed the pointed look that Rhys and Feyre threw your way, but Azriel didn’t. He was tall enough to see over your head as Feyre pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, eyes glistening. They had come here for a purpose, and the sooner it was over with, the sooner they could all go home. 

Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “I didn’t want you to come here. I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to see the things I do.” 

“I know.” You traced the curve of his jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “But I’m not afraid, Azriel.” 

His eyes flickered from fear to relief to love, like one of those picture books you had to flip through to see the scene play out. 

“You’re not?” 

You shook your head no. Then you kissed him on the lips and whispered the words for him and him alone. “I trust you. You’re the most terrifying thing here anyway, and you’re mine.” 

Yours. 

Azriel quitel liked the sound of that. 

Even here in the dungeons burrowed beneath empty frozen lands, Azriel found it within him to hope. Horrid creatures might be hidden elsewhere, creeping like slugs under the earth that he’d have to crush beneath his boot or tear treasured secrets from, but for now you were still by his side. For now you were still his and he would always be yours. 

You looped your arm through his and moved towards that door at the end of the hallway, steeling yourself for what you already knew was behind it. 

The light from the barred window flashed warm and cool then warm again. Light warped and pranced. The scent of rot hung in the air, humid and choking. You touched the door handle, feeling the magic fall away like it recognized you and opened up into a makeshift, but quaint bedroom. There were no windows here for there was nothing to see below ground, but some of Feyre’s landscape paintings hung on the wall. Faelights bloomed overhead, throwing light and heat on a child’s bed with green sheets, a table, and a bookcase overflowing with an assortment of puzzles and novels and toys. You felt your blood turn cold. They’d once belonged to Nyx before being repurposed for the little boy trembling on the floor. 

You stared at him in horror. 

The little boy who’d been so violently bright that morning in the marketplace was dull. Although he was wearing fresh clothes, his skin had turned a stone gray, black marks dotting his once silken, silver skin like a disease. He was aware of his condition, weeping on the plush rug cut in the shape of a flower as he batted at his arms, willing them to turn healthy again. 

“No no no no no no,” he sobbed. He grabbed at his pillowy hair in frustration and tugged. A cloud of fragile strands came away and he cried harder, trying to stick them back to his scalp. 

Rhysand’s face was broken and pale. He tried not to look at Andrian. He was too young. Reminded him too much of his own son. 

“You were right.” Rhysand’s voice was hollow, laced with a pain that grabbed your throat and squeezed. “Koschei did kill him. He’s been dead this whole time.”

“NO!” Andrian screamed. “HE DIDN’T! HE PROTECTED ME!” 

Fat tears rolled out of filmy eyes, dusty and brown as pond water. Rage filled him with new energy and he tried to attack your mind as he’d already done with Azriel. But there was something altogether different about your magic, something flexible that morphed and rearranged your mental walls until it felt like he was trying to attack himself. 

He gave up when your walls didn’t fall, and chose the physical route instead. You recoiled as he took a swipe, bony arms reaching out in an awkward lunge. But his legs were too weak and crumpled beneath him. He looked like a fish laid out to rot on a summer day — bloated and slick. 

“Koschei brought him back to life for his powers—”

“HE LOVES ME! PAPA LOVES ME!” 

“To use as he saw fit when the time was right.”

“But he can’t survive being separated for so long from Koschei’s power, can he?” 

Just like Vassa. Left on their own without their maker they couldn’t handle the curses that had been placed on them. They’d bend until they broke… unless they found another way… 

“The killings,” You murmured as the pieces slowly fell into place, “He killed those Librarians and the tailor and the florist…” You didn’t want to be right about this. You prayed to the Mother that you were wrong. 

But Azriel read the thoughts in your eyes and nodded. Feyre could only stand still and Rhysand couldn’t do more than speak out in that dead voice of his. 

Andrian had killed those fae, not just to send a message, but because that was the price for going against nature, for being brought back from the dead. Power demanded balance. To stay alive, Andrian had needed others to take his place. Those Librarians and the Velarians hadn’t been murdered. They’d been sacrificed. 

What Koschei had done to this boy — what he’d turned him into — made you want to crawl into a dark corner and stay there forever. 

Andrian’s sobs died out. A crack of lightning followed by unnerving silence that had Azriel’s blood freezing in his veins. Andrian wasn’t much older than he’d been when he’d first been tossed into that dark cellar. When his brothers had set his hands aflame. 

“He loves me,” he declared, as if saying it would make it true. He stayed curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He stayed when Henna left me. He wasn’t afraid of me like the others. He took care of me.”

But Koschei hadn’t taken care of him. He’d taught Andrian to love him. To worship him, because that’s what he craved above all else. He’d helped the boy control his powers and had allowed him to live so he could send him off to die when it was most convenient. You’d thought Henna was Koschei’s perfect soldier, but you were wrong. Andrian was. He’d been broken and molded into something that should never have existed. He’d been sent to Prythian after his sister’s death to take her place. A boy who would have no choice but to return to the lake or die trying. 

And he was dying. You could see it clear as day. Two teeth clinked onto the floor and Andrian’s hands flew up to his mouth. He whimpered, eyes locking on you like you might be able to fix this. 

You wanted to beg Rhys and Feyre to do something, to fix him, but it was a useless endeavor. They wouldn’t have brought you here if they could just reach into Andrian’s mind and end it all peacefully. Andrian was too powerful for that. But you could use another way. 

You approached him like a wild, injured animal, grimacing when he tried to run at you only for his ankle to twist and then snap. He fell to the floor in a pathetic sprawl. 

“Hey there, little feather.” 

Andrian paused at that familiar nickname, watery eyes looking up. You said it just like Henna had once upon a time. The same inflection in a differently pitched voice. His lips trembled. 

“She left me.” 

You shook your head before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He smelled of death. It clung to his linen shirt and trousers. It clung to the few strands of hair still woven into his scalp, skin so thin you could make out his skull. 

“She didn’t leave you, Andrian.” You poured your voice out over him, as soothing as you could make it, forcing the tears down. “She thought you’d died and that you’d stayed dead. She had a little ceremony for you out near the willow tree and buried your favorite toy beneath it with a handful of water lilies. Do you remember it? The little wooden doll you dressed up like a soldier with the red cap and the silver shoes?” 

He clamped his hands over his ears, shaking his head while his weak neck teetered dangerously atop his shoulders. 

“Andrian—” You pulled his hands away and in a bold, dangerous move brought them to your temple and slowly lowered your mental wards. You didn’t give him free reign, but rather guided him through snippets of memories you’d taken from Henna before her death. They all revolved around him. Before, and even after Koschei had poisoned their minds, Andrian had remained her true priority. 

The boy’s eyes flashed from anger to confusion then, finally, to despair.

“She didn’t leave you.” 

Andrian waited a few moments that had your heart seizing, then rushed into your arms, tightening them like a vice around your shoulders and burying his face in your hair. You held your breath, but tightened your grip. You weren’t his sister, but you were the closest thing he had. 

Slowly, like sand falling through an hourglass, you felt his arms weaken and fall from your shoulders. He stared at you, wide and terrified as his hand snapped off at the wrist and fell to your side in a grey heap. 

“Make it stop. Please make it stop.”

You smoothed back his hair, shoving down the tears that threatened to fall. His eyes were white now and unseeing. “It’s ok, little feather. It’s ok.” 

“I don’t—” Even his voice was crumbling apart. Raspy and broken like cracked glass. He had little time left. The fight in him gone. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to that dark place. Please don’t make me go.”  

Azriel had been watching the entire time, trying not to picture the little boy with dark hair, weak wings, and bandaged hands. He went so, so still. 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” You promised. You forced your trembling lips into a smile. 

He took in a rasping breath. “Will you go with me this time, Henna? Please.” 

You gritted your teeth, brows furrowed in an effort to stay here instead of turning and sprinting back to the surface. 

“I will. That’s why I came” You brushed his hair away from his forehead, saying nothing when the wispy white strands were torn away from his scalp like silk… just like the memories of Koschei’s lake you plucked from his mind without him knowing. You swallowed the pain of what you knew was coming. “I won’t let you be alone.” 

He went quiet after that. Maybe his voice had deteriorated beyond saving, maybe he finally felt at peace. All you knew is that you needed to keep brushing his hair and holding onto his hand when he laid down and placed his head in your lap. He was like a little windup doll that had run out of string. He kept breathing until he finally stopped. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

So... this was a rather sad one, bit of a tonal shift if you ask me, but I wanted to wrap up the stuff with Henna and Andrian before we continue on to other things.

BUT, you have to appreciate when Y/n walks into what's effectively a torture chamber and goes "yeah, nope, still in love with Azriel." It's just one of those things that gets brushed under the rug but like... this guy's WHOLE JOB is inflicting pain upon people.... and you know what, it's a fantasy book, so who the hell cares. We stan Y/n being supportive of Azriel's career lol

[shxxxbi]

EVERYTHING THAT WASN'T INCLUDED IN LOVE SEA THE SERIES 🌊

Episode 1 (Chapters: Prologue - 4)

next->

Tongrak's age

While Tongrak's age is never explicitly confirmed in the series, in the novel he says himself he's about to turn 31. His day consists of waking up in the afternoon, living on coffee, drinking alcohol as a hobby and staying up late. Regardless, his only worry is whether his cheeks will start to sag.

Intro scene: Love is such an annoyance, and those who are in love are the most annoying of all. It's so boring

In the novel Tongrak is actually at Khom and Connor's house, looking with annoyance at the couple being all clingy and lovey-dovey. As Tongrak and Connor engage in friendly bickering about Rak being "jealous" of the couple, Tongrak claims he would never want someone like Connor as anything more than a friend and jokingly asks Khom "I want to know if there are any more guys like you on the island. Introduce me to someone, will you?"

Cargo bike scene

Tongrak refuses categorically to get on the bike and asks the villagers around if there are other ways to get to the resort. Mahasamut watches him frantically running around until he lifts Tongrak up and places him on the bike himself.

Bar scene

While wearing all white in the show, Tongrak was actually wearing all black in the novel. In this scene specifically, he had been eyeing a hot foreigner sitting at a nearby table but was shocked to find out that man had been flirting with Mahasamut and had extended his stay to try to get the guy. Upon hearing this, Tongrak was annoyed at himself for almost going for "Mahasamut's leftovers". Despite being bothered by the mere mention of Mut's name, Tongrak kept thinking to himself "beneath those drab clothes was a well-built chest, not to mention that deep voice speaking in an incomprehensible Southern dialect, which could be quite seductive if whispered in the right tone".

Kitty Tongrak

Before Rak's arrival to the island, Connor warns Mahasamut about Rak's personality: Connor describes him as stubborn and self-willed, but also as someone who is very prone to loneliness, comparing him to a cat. Mut gets very curious about him and asks Connor if there are any restrictions he should be careful about. Connor tells him to be careful not to get scratched. Mahasamut's response? "I never let anyone scratch me for free". His curiosity makes him very eager to meet Tongrak because"such a lonely creature needs to be very well cared for".

Breakfast scene

To stop Mahasamut from getting on his nerves, Tongrak actually shuts him up by putting his hand on Mut's mouth. Mahasamut then grabs his wrist and kisses the palm of Rak's hand. The action made Tongrak's heart "beat wildly" and a "wave of heat spread through his body".

Rak's fall

As he watched Tongrak walk away in embarrassment after his fall, all Mut could think about was "how freaking cute he was". Walking back to the dining room with Rak, Mahasamut recalled what Khom and Connor had told him about the writer's personality, yet so far all he had seen was a "moody cat that kept hissing"

"And he liked feisty cats".

Horny Mahasamut

As he watched Tongrak working, he started admiring "the beauty Khom had so highly praised". Mahasamut admired Tongrak's facial features and slender figure, which he considered "a feast for the eyes". His eyes then dropped to Rak's fingers resting on the keyboard and Mut couldn't help but feel the urge to "kiss those beautiful fingertips just once, maybe nibble on them a couple of times too".

Mahasamut's dive

One of the reasons Tongrak reacted so badly in this scene, besides being worried about the younger boy's wellbeing, is because he thought Mahasamut had left him alone, in the middle of nowhere, on purpose. Upon noticing Tongrak crying, Mut reached out to wipe his tears away but Rak slaps his cheek with full force, while shouting.

Horny Tongrak

Our boy Rak wasn't just admiring "a broad chest, beautifully defined muscles and strong arms" but also the "dark skin that accentuated his masculinity". And most of all "the prominent bulge beneath the pants".

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Cursed Warlords Lmk Au - Chapter 1 - Meeting The Mortal

Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque have been cursed. Luckily for them, a young mortal (You) has chosen to take care of them.

*Chirp* *Chirp*

Sun Wukong couldn’t believe this, he was a feared warlord! He was a dangerous being who struck fear into the hearts of humans. He ruled an entire island and had a whole island. Now he was but the size of a small cub, and he couldn’t figure out how to get back to normal. Growling he threw his arms around trying to shape-shift, which he was unable to do at all right now.`

*Chirp* *Chirp*

The sound of his mate caught his attention. He huffed as he turned to Macaque who was also stuck in the form of a cub. The two weren’t even demon cubs, no they were stuck looking like normal monkey cubs! He loved cubs, but he hated the idea of being stuck as one!

‘Calm down, being loud won’t do us any good,’ Macaque chirped jumping to sit beside him under a large tree.

Wukong huffed as he looked around, they were sitting in a large forest. It was dense and filled with highly dangerous creatures. None of which could best himself and his mate of course so there was no need for them to worry. Seemingly sensing what his mate was thinking Macaque chirped. ‘We can’t beat anyone stuck like this.’

Macaque wasn’t stupid, far from it he was a dangerous warlord who ruled right next to his husband. Now the both of them were stuck as defenseless cubs with no way to return to their own bodies. He held back his own growl at the thought, they would get back to normal, there was no way he would just sit back as he was stuck in a form like this!

They needed to think of a plan, hell they needed to find out how this happened in order to find a way to fix it! Macaque looked at his mate, he wasn’t taller than a foot now with the same bright golden fur and golden eyes. The marking under his mouth vanished but he still had his red, heart shaped mask surrounding his eyes. Though now it was closer to a peachy orange color.

‘You got any ideas on what to do than?’ Wukong growled back, they had been stuck in this form for almost two days now with no clue of how it happened or who was responsible. In that time this was the first time that Sun Wukong had calmed down enough to talk.

Macaque thought about it, they needed to get back to Flower Fruit Mountain and get seek help. Knowing his mate though there was very little chance that he would want to do that because it would show his weakness. That weakness having only just appeared once whatever curse was set on them settled. They had no way to get to The Mountain, they were terribly far from Camal Ridge as well as The Demon Bull King’s territory in the desert.

Wukong frowned when he didn’t get a response from his mate. His still taller than him mate, he was like an inch taller still even with both of them shrinking down to this height. It kind of pissed him off if he was to be honest. His mate who still had his six eared, feather like purple mask, as well as his dark purple eyes. The single marking below his lip had vanished and he was stuck with his bright white fur, which caused him to stand out rather well in this place.

‘We need to get to Flower Fruit Mountain,’ Macaque chirped, looking around for the best way to get back without drawing too much attention.

‘Okay? How do we do that, it’s going to take ages,’ Wukong whined in response, his tail whipping back and forth as he sat next to his mate.

Before Macaque could answer the two heard a snap from behind them. Immediately the two turned around, hackles raised and ready to run. However that didn’t happen when they noticed a lone human woman walking through the forest. The two glanced at each other confused as to why there was a woman all alone in the forest, especially a forest such as this one.

“Hey come on, wait up!” A young demoness called out behind her.

Okay so she wasn’t alone. The demoness was small, standing at three foot tall with ankle long black hair that gently floated around her. She was monkey demoness, with light grey almost white eyes and black fur covering the majority of her figure.

“You’re faster than me, you can keep up,” The human responded, pushing some branches out of her way.

“Come on. You don’t have to be mean, Reader,” The demoness whined jumping in front of you with a grin.

“I’m not being mean. And you still haven’t told me why you’re even following me,” you said with a deadpanned look as she walked forwards.

You didn’t hold any fear for the demoness that was clearly superior to you. Both Wukong and Macaque glanced at each other before climbing up a few branches to watch you for a moment. You were heading in their direction, they could get the demoness’s help back to the Mountain.

As you were getting closer however suddenly your foot snagged on a root and you went toppling forwards with a yelp. The monkeys couldn’t help but laugh at your expense as dirt and mud covered your face.

The demoness chuckled her tail swaying back and forth as she jumped to walk next to you. Getting closer the two noticed that you were wearing, very strange clothing. Dark blue pants that hugged her legs, a black top that barely covered her shoulders and strange boots.

“If I had known you would follow me than… Nah I still would have helped you. Anyways Spirit- if that is your name, can you point the way to the closest village?” You asked as you stopped below the very tree that the two monkeys were sitting in.

“Just keep traveling this way. At your rate, we might be able to reach it in the next three days,” The demoness shrugged with a laugh when you whipped your head around with a yell.

“THREE DAYS!? FUCK!” You groaned slapping your forehead.

Wukong and Macaque looked at each other again confused. Why were you so surprised, it’s not like that was a very long trip. Mortals were so impatient, they thought before glancing at the demoness. Just as they were about to try and get her attention, there was a loud screech behind them. Turning they saw a large demon bird. Immediately they stumbled just enough to fall off of the branch.

‘SHIT!’ Macaque chirped but before either of the two hit the ground they were caught in a pair of welcoming arms.

The demon bird went to attack only to flee when it saw Spirit who jumped in front of you with claws and teeth bared harshly. Almost immediately the bird was gone and you were now holding two small monkey cubs who were quickly trying to get out of your hold.

“… What just happened?” You asked looking at the two monkeys.

“Demon birds, gosh I hate those guys. They must have attacked these two, where are your parents little ones-,” Spirit kind of stopped talking as she looked at the two in your arms.

“Poor dears, you’re safe now,” You couldn’t help but mutter as you held them to your chest getting little chirps in return, mostly from confusion.

Humans weren’t nice, especially not to their kind. No humans were either hateful creatures or scared out of their minds. They would attack their kind or run away from them. They never cuddled with the enemy, so what was up with this one? Did she hit her head somewhere?

*Chirp* *Chirp* Wukong calls out, demanding that the demoness get the human to release them. The demoness stared at the two for a moment, nodding her head in what appeared to be understanding. However, she didn’t tell the woman to release them no instead she looked up at her and with a loud voice declared.

“Yeah, I have no idea how to speak monkey. Do you know what they said?” She asked, sweat dropping from her brow.

Both Wukong and Macaque stared at her in shock, she couldn’t understand them!? No! NO! NO! This was bad, they were stuck in this form and not even this monkey demoness could help them! Wukong couldn’t help the low growl that soon made its way from his throat. He tried to sound dangerous and threatening, unfortunately for him… But he only sounded adorable.

“SO CUTE!” You cheered pulling the two into a hug, Macaque quickly tried to push you away with his paw.

“Yeah, sure. What do you want to do with them?” The demoness asked with a frown, her eyes narrowing at the two cubs.

You looked at her with a confused expression before what she was asking hit you. She wanted you to decide where you two were going to drop them off. Looking down at them, you noticed them staring at you too. A warm smile covered your face as you pulled them slightly closer.

“We should find their parents,” you said looking back up at her.

“… I don’t think that’s going to work,” She responded with a frown.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion,“Why not?”

“Because they don’t smell like anyone else. There parents…” Her words were wrong, their parents weren’t dead. They never had parents, they were born from a storm and a stone.

“Then we’ll take care of them,” You responded determined.

“Wait… WHAT!?”

Opinions? Thoughts? My newest Au is Shadowpeach x Reader! Welcome to the Cursed Warlords AU!

Masterpost

Part 2 - Peaches and Plums

[burstfoot]

Hello! Here's an update on all of Arknights' currently accessible auxiliary material as of May 2024! There's plenty to check out, so I hope this is helpful for some!

Animation

Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2): [Crunchyroll]

An adaptation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the in-game story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Season 3, Arknights: Rise from Ember, has been announced! Lee's Detective Agency: [Youtube]

A mini-series animated in a chibi style with a comedic tone. Focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: [Youtube]

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary. Officially posted to Youtube!

Kay's Daily Doodles: [Youtube]

Another free, comedic Youtube mini-series, posted to the offical Arknights Youtube account and focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Zwillingstürme im Herbst So Long, Adele Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2 Amiya's Special Gift Doctor's Gifts in Return 1 Doctor's Gifts in Return 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated:

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: [Offical Source]

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield for when it was chronologically released! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: [Official Source]

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: [Official Source]

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written! The Blacksteel, Rhine Lab, and Rhodes Kitchen manga have all been sold in physical copies, if you're interested in having them in print!

Prelude Suite: Cadenza Virtuosa: [Official Source]

An epilogue to Hortus De Escapismo focusing on Arturia's background, with the second chapter serving as a prelude for Zwillingstrume im Herbst! An excellent read to get better insight into Arturia's character.

Angelina: Sketches of this Messenger's Journey: [Official Source]

A more comedically focused manwha, centered on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Currently updating, with recent chapters focusing on Sami and Siesta!

Unofficially Translated

The Dagger's Inheritors: [Youtube]

A 15-minute short 3D animated film about W's past and relationship with Theresa, released for the 5th Arknights anniversary. Arknights Comic Anthology: [Mangadex]

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Some of the chapters on Mangadex for the later volumes of the Comic Anthology specifically have been machine translated, but the same is not true for the other manga shared here. Chapters are hit-and-miss, but the whole series is generally a fun read! See the original post for specific chapter suggestions.

123 Rhodes Island: [Mangadex]

A series of non-canon gag comics for the CN server, usually updated when new operators or events release!

Arknights: Operators!: [Mangadex]

A compilation of shortform manga posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on personally translating these!

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: [Mangadex]

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle before they join Rhodes Island, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Thank you to @pooce-art for their translation work!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: [Youtube]

A series of concerts (4 so far), focused around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022, 2023, and 2024.

Monster Siren Records: [Spotify] [Official Website]

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: [Twitter]

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for both EN and CN servers!

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are: The Arknights Terra Wiki. While it is a very accurate source for in-game data, take the explanation of in-game story and some specific claims with a grain of salt. The FANDOM version of this wiki is currently no longer mantained and subject to vandalism! Given you can translate or read Chinese, PRTS.wiki is the current best resource for game assets!

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game! Jacob Moreau on Youtube provides voiceover readings of many in-game stories as well.

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are available in-game as of So Long, Adele (as far as I'm aware, the sprite/cg gallery is no longer being updated.)

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or is an easy reference source in the future. Some things, such as merch (i.e. board games) or the official lore book have not been included due to not being accessible or translated for EN players. I'm happy to continue to provide more information like this to make the art surrounding this series more accessible! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask.

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 5 ✿:+ : To The Wall

chapter index | next chapter

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister.  You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his. 

CW: afab reader, MDNI, pining, queer unresolved romantic tension, unspoken confession, threats of violence, misogyny, mention of violence, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 4.9k

 

It had been a few days since Joffrey's murder.

You had spent those days locked in your chamber for the entirety of those two days. You spent it laying about and hoping that Podrick had received your orders and followed them. 

How silly of you, you thought. Laying about thinking of a man, worrying about a man. How dreadfully pathetic. 

You hoped that the news of Joffrey's murder traveled North to your family. Your cousin, and your father. You hoped they heard it, it would satisfy them at least. 

But mostly you thought of Podrick. What he said before he left, he “wanted to marry you”. What would that have looked like? ‘(Y/N) Payne’, it sounded right to you, felt like bliss. You imagined he and you back on the Island. There’d be no need to sneak and hide, you could sleep in the same bed and sleep til the late morning without fearing anyone would catch you. 

Maybe you’d even carry a babe in your belly… 

Look at you, a silly girl twirling her hair thinking of boys as you laid on your bed. Now wasn’t the time for that, no now was the time to do everything you could to get back to him.

Just as you thought it, a guard holding a tray of food entered your chambers. “Supper time, bear bitch.” He said about sliding your tray across the floor. 

“Wait,”  You called out as you sat up on your bed.

“You aint got nothing I wanna hear.” He said pushing your tray across the floor.

You walked towards him, your hand trailing down the cleavage exposed from your dress. “I might have something you want to feel.” Your seductive facade was clearly working as the man closed the door behind him. “It’s been awfully lonely in this room, relieving myself on my pillows simply won’t do.” You whined as you trailed your other hand down his chest.

He looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t being set up, “You any good at it?” The man smirked,

“Better than any whore in any brothel. And cheaper too, infact I won’t cost a thing.” You batted your eyelashes and faked a giggle.

He cupped your chin, “How about your mouth?” You took his thumb and sucked on it, the man groaned “Hells, alright then get on with it-”

You immediately stopped and looked at him, your facade dropping, “Oh but for that you’ll need to help me with one thing.” 

The man groaned and whined about it but eventually gave in. After all, he was already half way hard.

You made him smuggle you down to the dungeons in a dark cloak. Down to the cells where they kept your lover's former Lord. 

As you stepped inside the dungeon cell you removed your hooded cloak.

“I must speak with you.” You spoke with intention and direct purpose. 

“Not very smart of you. You were accused just as I was.” He was clearly upset, being locked away in a dungeon does not tend to bring out the best in people.

“I am to be released soon enough.” You were already growing annoyed by the way this conversation was going.

“Not quite. You’re still in King's Landing.” He was right of course “Besides if two accused come together as one person might talk. ‘What other King will they kill?’” He spoke in a mocking tone.

“I didn’t kill a king. Why would I risk my Lady’s position?” You should have, but at that point, your attention was solely focused on keeping you and Podrick together. Maybe you were being selfish.

“Because by letting her marry him, you’d be risking her life.” You felt a comfort in knowing someone else knew and recognized his cruelty. Most were too scared to express it.

You looked down and rationalized, “She is a woman grown. Capable of deciding her own path. As are you.” You looked back at him, ready to return the accusation, “Joffrey was quite cruel towards you.” 

“As he was to most.” 

“Especially you.” You said stepping closer to him,  “No one would have blamed you for it.” 

“Oh but they could.” He said, holding up his hands in chains.

You shook your head, “I’ve not come here to argue with you.” 

“What did you come for? And how did you? The guard-“

You interrupted, knowing your time was limited, “I told him I’d suck his cock if he let me in.” 

He chuckled “Not quite faithful to our mutual friend are you?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“How do you-“

He interrupted you, “Please, I am not blind. Love comes from the eyes. I could see it in him and you whenever you found one another.” His gaze was softer, as if he knew how dear you were to Podrick. He shrugged, “That and I've seen him shuffling out of your chambers in the early morning.” 

“I’m not going to suck the guard's cock.” You shook your head and looked down almost ashamed you’d even told him that you would. You knew you wouldn’t, ever.  “Once I leave here, I’m going to tell him if he doesn’t forget it happened I'll tell the queen he let me out, and I’ve a witness now.” You said looking at him.

“You are smart.” He nodded, 

“I'm terrified.” Your eyes focused on him, “Never been terrified before. But I am… now.” You huffed,  “Not even for me. Cersei could throw me in here for a hundred years and I'd be content as long as I know I did what I could to free him from this place.” Your words were much more sweet and sincere than Tyrion would have expected.

He looked confused, “A squire. A loyal one I will give him that. But a girl of an honorable house name… picks a squire, I don’t understand.” 

“it’s not meant for you to understand.” You said defensively, then you sat on a crate that was in the room, you looked down and smiled, “He was kind. The only kind man I'd ever known. His kindness was pure of any ambition or desire. He was kind to me because he wanted to be. Even when he saw me being unpleasant and harsh… He still was kind to me.” You finished sounding sorrowful almost.

“He was a good lad.” He nodded, his face was one of understanding.

“He is. And right now all I am concerned about is where he is going?” Your voice was quiet and soft.

“You think I know?” His cynical facade, still hanging on.

“You owe him your life. Of course you know.” Your eyes looked desperate, and Tyrion could see it.

He looked down, “My brother Jamie has sent him to squire Brienne of Tarth. That’s all that I know.” 

“I can work with that.” You smiled slightly. 

As your conversation with Tyrion was coming to a close the dungeon door opened.

“Alright birdie, your times up with the imp. And your time with me is about to start.” The man was grinning ear to ear, it made Tyrion wince. 

You didn’t look at the man at all, not acknowledging his existence at all “Thank you.” You said to Tyrion before you stood and turned to the man in the doorway. “I’m not touching you and if you so much as whine I will tear your pathetic excuse of a cock off and stuff it in your mouth so that you cannot speak when the queen questions why you let someone accused of murdering her son out of her chamber and into the cell of another accused murder.” Your voice was deep and venomous.

Tyrion cracked a smile as the man stood there processing what you’d said.

One he did after a few moments of silence he took you by your arm and dragged you back to your chambers, huffing and puffing like a child the whole way. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A few days earlier, 

Just as Tyrion had said Jamie assigned Podrick to Brienne to aid her in her quest to find the Stark sisters and bring them to safety. 

Podrick was heartbroken without you, and without the certainty that he’d find you anytime soon. However his one solace was that he was to serve the very woman that had inspired such happiness in you. When you saw her you saw a bit of yourself in her. You saw a great warrior and someone worth something. Podrick was proud to serve such a Lady.

“I don’t need a squire.” Brienne said annoyed that one was even being pushed onto her.

“Of course you do.” Jaime said

Brienne’s annoyance only escalated, “He’ll slow me down.” 

“My brother owes him a debt, he’s not safe here. You’re keeping him from harm. It’s chivalry.” Jamie smiled at her annoyance.

Podrick felt the need to interject, “I won’t slow you down, ser–” Brienne looked at him with daggers in her eyes and Jamie looked at him like he was mad, “My lady…” He attempted to correct his mistake. “I promise I’ll serve you well.” He nodded,

“See? He’s a good Lad. You’ll get along.” Jamie said, patting him on the back.

As their journey began Podrick realized two things. Firstly he did not learn anything in Lord Tyrion's service. Especially how to ride a horse, 

“Come on move,” Podrick said to his brown horse, trying to get it to comply with his directions that he clearly did not know how to give. 

Brienne looked over at him with irritation, “Didn’t they teach you how to ride a horse?” she questioned.

He continued to struggle with his reigns, “Yes, my Lady when I was young. There wasn’t much call for Lord Tyrion, though. He preferred litters.” 

“Perhaps you should have stayed with him.” She said clearly unsatisfied with Jamie’s ‘gift’  “It’s not going to be a pleasant journey for you. It could take weeks to get to the wall, depending on the weather.” 

His horse made its own way off the path and back on it again at its own leisure. “That’s a long way off,” He said, hiding his slight excitement as best he could. If they were going to the wall there was a chance he’d see you if you did as you said and escaped. Or at least he could try to convince your father to send aid. 

“Well Lady Sansa's brother is at Castle Black. If I were her that’s where I’d go.” She looked back at Podrick again, rolling her eyes, “Feel free to stop at any point.” 

“Never, my Lady. I am your squire.” he attempted to say it with conviction but his constant struggle made his tone waver.

“I’ve made it this far in the world without a squire. Don’t see why I need one now.” 

“All knights have squires, my Lady.” 

“I’m not a knight. And I’m not a slaver, either. I don’t own you.” 

“I swore an oath, my Lady.” His conviction was strong.

“I am releasing you from that oath.” She looked back at him, noticing he was still there, “That means you can leave.” 

“I know.” 

“What do you think will happen if you leave?” She raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious why someone would want to stay with her.

“They’ll say I wasn’t a very good squire.” The truth was the past hour proved to him that he couldn’t make it out here on his own. And if he were going to find you he would need to learn to stand on his two feet first. 

The second thing he had learned however, was how similar you and Brienne were. Though of course he preferred you to her. She was direct, stubborn, and clearly loyal. 

It made him more inclined to tolerate her words.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A day after your meeting with Tyrion, Margaery had snuck into your chamber as she often did now. You begged her to find more information about where Podrick might have gone, the next day she'd already found an answer to your question. 

“Podrick left with Brienne of Tarth. Jamie Lannister commanded him to squire for her, aid her efforts to find Sansa Stark.” Her words were heavy as if she’d known something you didn’t.

“What is it?” You asked,

“I am to tell you that you may resume your duties as my lady.” Your eyes lit up and hers darkened, “You have been cleared as a suspect.” She said, once again her voice and her face did not match the happiness of the news you’d received. “I found these last night.” She handed you clothing and armor, you recognized it. It was the very same armor that you’d arrived in Kings Landing with. Not your best armor but you took it, happily.

“Thank you. Thank you for what you’ve done for me, Margaery.” You said sincerely, smiling at her.

“So you are leaving me?” She asked, 

You looked confused, she must've known it was coming, “I must. There’s nothing left here for me.” You said, your brows furrowed.

“There’s me. Your dearest friend.” She held onto your hand with a tight grip. 

“Margaery, Pod-” You began to explain but she interrupted. 

“My last two husbands were murdered. I could have run to the high garden but I didn't.” 

“You’ve a goal, and I’ve mine.” You tried to reason with her.

She shook her head as if she were shaking away her thoughts from it, “I know. I know. Love.” She said as if the word were a silly concept, something foreign. “I just wish you’d choose me.”

You leaned into her, “This place is not safe. for me or for you for that matter. You should leave, marry someone who you love.” You tried to have her see reason.

She shook her head, looking at you with eyes filled with an emotion you did not understand. “I can’t marry someone I love.” she looked down at her hand hold yours then back into your eyes, “I am going to be the Queen.”

You nodded, she had made her choice and you made yours, “And I cannot always be your lady- Handmaiden.” 

“Why not?” You were about to open your mouth to explain but she stopped you, forcing a false smile. “You are right. It’s best we leave our girlhood behind us and realize we’ve stepped into our womanhood. Silly dreams and feelings cannot hold such weight. But, for whatever it may be worth, however little. I enjoyed the time," She held your hand even tighter, "The time we spent laughing.” You smiled at her, you understood now. But still, I could not give her what she wanted. “The Guards by the stables leave it unattended for a few minutes each night, when the moon is highest. That’s your best chance.” She said, slightly tearing up. 

“Goodbye, and thank you.” You said, smiling warmly attempting to not cry.

“Goodbye, and thank you.” She repeated back to you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You did as she said and you left that night. 

You stole a Lannister horse, being sure to remove its colors and saddle from it but that meant you’d have to ride it bare. ‘They hang horse thieves,’ you thought. So you were sure to steal a sword while you at it.

You had been riding quite a long time, didn’t know how long even but you knew the sun had come and gone a few times, and now were quite hungry. You found a nearby inn. You knew that eventually they’d throw their left overs out in the back eventually. 

As you hanged around the back you let your new horse drink from a creek.

“Hello, there.” You heard behind you, you turned around and saw a short and stout boy.

“Hello…” You said with narrow eyes and a furrow brow.

“You want to come in? It’s much warmer inside, there’s ale, water, kidney pie-” You could tell he was a talker and cut him off before he could keep going.

“I don’t have any money.” You shook your head, “Just watering the horse, I’ll be on my way.” You said looking back at your horse.

“Your armor is quite nice, are you a Knight?” The boy continued to question you, 

“Women cannot be knights.” You said not looking back at him.

“What's the bear for?” He asked innocently, 

You thought for a moment, you couldn’t admit who you were, “House Brune of the CrownLands.” 

“Looks like a Mormont sigil.” He said,

You shook your head, “They’re loyal to the traitors from Winterhell.” You were good at lying, but somehow you couldn’t quite say that without your voice wavering.

“It is a Mormont sigil, isn’t it?” He said. You thought you’d been found out by someone loyal to the crown. So naturally you took hold of your sword's handle, “I didn’t mean to offend!” He said, raising his hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to escalate the situation anymore than that. 

You took your hand away from your sword, satisfied he wasn’t a threat. You turned back to the horse once again.“Just let me be on my way.” 

“You’re a long way out from the North.” He said concerned, and you didn’t respond. “You want a hot meal?” He asked kindly.

You looked at him, your eyes a bit softer now. “I told you I don’t have any money.” 

He shrugged, “I am happy to give it.” He looked around to make sure no one else could hear him say whatever he was going to, “Starks need a loyal ally.” You nodded and he went back into the Inn for a few minutes before returning with food wrapped in a cloth.

“Thank you.” You nodded at him as you took the food. 

“What was your name?” 

You thought for a moment, then deciding you could tell him. It was the least you could do. “(Y/N) Mormont.” 

“I knew I was right.” He said with a smile. You smiled back as you ate the pastry.

The two of you talked, or more like he talked at you for some time and you went on your way.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Little did you know that a mere few hours later Podrick and Brienne would be stopping into that very same place.

As Brienne and Podrick sat at a table. She dug into the pie in front of her “A bit of comfort never hurt anyone. We’ve been sleeping in ditches. I think we can treat ourselves with a featherbed for the night and a hot meal not cooked by you.” She said, 

“Couldn’t agree more, my Lady.” Podrick said defeatedly as he drank the ale in his cup.

“Just don’t expect silk underclothes. Not working for your former lord anymore.” 

“Yes, my Lady.” He began to drink even more of his ale,

Brienne took his cup away, “Don’t get drunk,” she snapped at him.

“No, my Lady.” He submitted, 

That very same short and stout boy began talking to Brienne the very same way as he did you.

“That’s nice armor, are you a Knight?” He asked innocently. 

“No.” She was frustrated by the assumption.

“Oh it’s just people with nice armor are usually knights. Generally speaking. Funny enough I saw another Lady in armor, she wasn’t from around here there. From King’s Landing though, aren’t you?” Brienne looked at him with disdain and Podrick looked at him uncomfortably. “From there myself originally, flea bottom born and bred.” He continued, “What brings you to these parts?” 

“We’re looking for someone. A girl, tall, red hair, very pretty. Her name is Sansa Stark.” Brienne got directly to the point. Podrick looked at her empathically, but concerned.

“Stark? What like them lot from Winterhell? Ain't seen anyone like that. Them lot are traitors. No room for traitors in here.” He feigned his loyalty to the crown as he picked himself up and left Brienne and Podrick on their own.

Podrick found it difficult to hear such things about a place you were so loyal to.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ 

As Brienne and Podrick left the inn, Brienne noticed Podrick’s worried look as he readied their horses.

“What?” She asked devoid of any emotion.

“It’s nothing, my lady.” He shook his head, 

“You wouldn’t screw your face up if it was nothing.” 

“Don’t want to offend, my lady. Truly I don’t” 

“You’re not interesting enough to be offensive.” 

“The Lannisters want Lady Sansa. The Lannisters have money. People kill for money. I don’t think that we should be telling people about us trying to find Lady Sansa.”

“My lady, My Lord.” He got the attention of Pod and Brienne, “You seem like a proper lady, someone who can be trusted… I don’t know a Sansa Stark. But I know her sister, Arya.” 

Brienne furrowed her brow, "No one's seen Arya Stark since her father was beheaded. She's presumed dead."

"She weren't when I last spoke to her...heading up north with the Night's Watch. She was all dressed up as a boy...going by the name Arry. "

Her interest peaked, "So what happened to her? The quick version."

"The Lannisters took us prisoner. We escaped. The Brotherhood took us prisoner. They 'sold' me to the innkeep. They were gonna sell Arya to her mother at Riverrun, along with another prisoner: big ugly fellow, foul mouth and a face like a half-burnt ham. Not friendly." He shook his head, 

“Thank you,” Brienne said, 

“You know it’s funny, It’s not everyday you meet a Lady in armor. And it’s not everyday you meet two in one day.” He said, Pod and Brienne losing interest quickly, “And this one was a lot like you too, My Lady. Not very friendly at first,” Brienne looked at him, “Meaning no offense. But once I found out she was a Mormont she was pleasant enough.” Podrick looked at him as if lighten had struck him, Brienne noticed and looked at him strangely, 

“What’d she look like?” He asked, Brienne looking at him even stranger. 

The boy described you, exactly, there was no mistake.

“Did she say where she was going?” Podrick continued to press him uncharacteristically  

“No, my Lord. I asked and she wouldn’t say.” He said, 

Podrick looked defeated and went back to reading the horse, but Brienne kept her eyes on him, curious as to what that meant to him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

On your long journey you stumbled into a camp, but not any camp. You could tell just by looking at the boys that they were Knights Watch recruits.

This had to have been a sign from the Gods. Safer passage North and saver passage to your father. As you rode up you were eyeballed by all the new recruits, unfamiliar with who you were. 

“Hello pretty girl,” A man said, 

“Bring me, Yoren.” You spoke confidently and coldy. 

“Now is that a sweet way to ask?” The same man asked a shorter man beside him. 

“No, not sweet at all.” The short man said. 

A younger man with short hair behind them spoke up, “She’s wearing Mormont armor.”

You sat up tall on your horse, “My father is Jeor Mormont. I am (Y/N) Mormont. Now bring me Yoren.” You reasserted,

“Yes, My Lady.”  The short man said before rushing to find him. 

Soon enough Yoren was with helding you and dismounting your horse. “Lady Mormont.” He said happily enough for such a grumpy old man. He had known you since you were born.

“Yoren.” You said with a smile,

“What can we offer ye?” His arms crossed and his eyes softened towards you,

You sighed knowing he’d not want what you were going to propose, “I want to go to the wall. To Castle Black.” You nodded.

“Well, I think you know better than anyone that a lady can not join the Knights watch.” He teased,

“I’m not looking to join it. I am looking for my father.” 

His tone shifted slightly to a deeper one, “It’s unusual, and dangerous road, that's for sure.” He sighed and looked down, then back at you, “But your father would bury me deep in the ground if I didn’t.” He smirked, 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Weeks had passed. Pod and Brienne’s journey was taking a hard turn. Everything had gone wrong. 

They’d found Arya like the boy at the Inn said, but when Brienne fought the Hound for Arya they’d lost her. She didn’t want the protection to begin with, the entire thing hurt and frustrated Brienne more than she knew to describe. 

So naturally she took it out on Podrick.

“Will we head North at some point?” Podrick asked about setting up camp, “You said Sansa had a brother at Castle Black. We’re a few days' ride from the kings road. It’ll take us-” 

“Us?” Brienne asked, her voice devoid of all emotion, “The only reason you’re here is because Jaime Lannister told me you weren’t safe in the Capital.” Podrick stood still, unsure of what to do or say, “You’re hundreds of miles from King’s Landing.” She said removing her armor. “No one knows what you look like, no one cares. You’re safe.”

“But I am your squire.” He couldn’t let his opportunity go, to prove himself to himself, and to you.

“Do you even know what a squire is?” She looked at him with a look of contempt. 

“An attendant to a knight?” He looked confused,

“I’m not a knight, that means you’re not a squire.”

“Well where will I go?” 

“I don’t care, I'm not your mother.” She practically spat her words at him,

“You swore to find the Stark girls.” 

“I found Arya. She didn’t want my protection.” 

“Sansa still might.” He attempted to calm her,

“Will you shut your mouth?” She snapped at him, “I didn’t ask for your advice. I don't want you to follow me because I’m not a leader. All I ever wanted was to fight for a lord I believed in. The ones are dead and the rest are monsters.” She scowled as she looked off into the distance and then looked back at Podrick, “And all your lords, they’ve all been so kind to you.” She stood and walked away, “All except me,” She took a breath and looked back at him, “I’m sorry you have to squire such a nasty person.” 

“That girl he talked about in the Inn. I knew her well. She met you once, and couldn't stop talking about you.” He continued to set up camp, “I’m not sorry. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen. You beat the hound. I am proud to be your squire.”

She looked at him, “I’m sorry I am always snapping at you.” 

“If you didn’t snap at me I wouldn’t learn anything.” He said with a strange optimism, 

“You want to be a Knight, Pod?” 

He looked at her, his eyes filled with excitement “Yes.” 

She nodded and sat down, pointed to the armor she wanted him to take off of her, “Starting tomorrow, we’ll train with a sword twice a day. Before we ride in the morning and after you make camp in the evening. And I am going to show you how to ride properly.” He finished taking off her armor for her, “I can’t knight you, but I can teach you to fight.” 

“I suppose that’s more important.” He smiled ear to ear. “You weren’t a knight, but you were a Kingsgaurd to Renly Baratheon, weren’t you?” He questioned, genuinely curious. 

“I was.” She said, 

“Lord Tyrion said he was a good man.”

“He was.” You could hear her grief, 

“How did you end up serving Renly?” Podrick asked as he sat beside her. 

Brienne hesitated for a moment but began her story, “When I was a girl my father held a ball. I was his only living child so he wanted to make a good match for me. I didn’t want to go but he dragged me. And I loved it.” Podrick smiled, she reminded him of you. “None of the boys noticed how mulish and tall I was. They shoved each other when they thought it was their turn to dance.” She smiled looking back at her own story, “I’d never been so happy.” Her smile faded, “Till I saw a few of the boys snickering.” Podricks smile faded as well, “And then they all started to laugh, and couldn't keep the game up any longer. Brienne the beauty they called me- great joke. And I realized I was the ugliest girl alive. A great lumbering beast.” You could feel her pain just in her words alone. “I tried to run away but Renly Baratheon took me into his arms. ‘Don’t let them see your tears,’ he told me ‘They’re nasty little shits, and nasty little shits aren’t worth crying over.’” Her smile returned again, “He danced with me and none of the boys could say a word. He was the King's brother after all.” Podrick smiled back, 

“But wasn’t he… Lord Tyrion said that he was,” Podrick asked awkwardly, 

“Yes Pod, he liked men. I am not an idiot. He didn’t love me. He didn’t want me. He danced with me because he was kind.” She explained. 

She looked down, thinking back to the memories she had with him,“Nothings more hateful than failing to protect the one you love.” 

Those words stuck with Podrick,

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: Timelines shimelines amiright? 

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[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter II: A Place Uncharted and Overgrown

playlist | masterlist | pinboard | prev

song(s) for this chapter: Careful by Paramore, 365 by Charli XCX, Hardline by Julien Baker (for half a second)

chapter tags: cocky!kinda mean!fboy!eddie, swearing, drinking, drug (weed) use, implied sexual content | fic tags: Angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle send a message/comment to be added!

a/n: whatever is happening right now, don’t worry. it will get worse!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

Your voice is hoarse by the time you pull into your driveway, surely waking the neighbors as your music leaks through your cracked windows, an angry repetition of YOU CAN’T BE TOO CAREFUL ANYMORE… You do, however, remember to crank it down before leaving your car, something future you will be thankful for.

You flick the light of your bare bones apartment on, glaring at the half your things still sitting in boxes. You keep telling yourself you’ll get to those.

Much to your discouragement, you’ve mostly accepted that Hawkins has swallowed you back into its cold and unforgiving bosom, at least for a while.

You’d left for college, obviously. Escaped to New York with a dream of becoming a published poet, a voice of the new generation. And though school was insightful, challenging, and everything you wanted; it was lonely. Art students are pretentious and judgmental, especially if you come from somewhere like Indiana. So you’d kept your head down and finished school alone, only to move back home with a useless degree, in thousands of dollars of debt, and with a brother in prison.

At least now my brother’s home, you think, trying to assuage the shame spiral. Home and as oblivious as ever, inviting Eddie to the bar.

-

You rise late, sunshine leaking into your second floor bedroom, provoking a groan from deep within your tired gut. Eddie’s here, in Hawkins. It’s been years since you’ve seen him, even longer since you’ve spoken. It leaves you with a lot of nagging questions you’re not sure you want the answers to.

You roll over, wrestling with your sheets tangled around your bare legs. You barely remember coming home, having blacked out the night with a red, angry rage that seems to have subsided with the night. You’re calmer now, almost zen.

Almost, until you remember what you’ve promised tonight. Parties aren’t usually of any concern; a few old friends and maybe a couple college kids with nothing better to do, but you dread it all the same. Eddie used to frequent Steve’s house parties to deal, even after you’d stopped speaking to him. Something about being “easy money,” he’d drunkenly explained to you once. You hope it doesn’t mean he’ll pick up the habit again, but you know deep down how naive that is.

-

“What’s the party even for?” You lean over the kitchen island to steal a chip from the bag, and Steve smacks your hand out of the way.

“Who says there has to be a reason for a party?”

“Anyone who wants to keep their house clean, for one.” Robin sneaks in from behind, snatching a handful of potato chips before Steve can catch her. “And I, for one, never agreed to hosting this party.”

“Co-hosting,” Steve reminds her, “and if you must know, it’s a party for Chris.”

“Didn’t we just have one of those?” You groan, and Robin hands you a chip, as if to apologize.

“Yeah, but that was nothin’. No offense, obviously I love your mom and the bar, but, cmon, you know he wants a rager.”

You really can’t argue with that, so you divert. “And you feel responsible to throw him?”

Steve presses his lips together, unable to combat the question. “We’re friends. Plus, it gives Robin an excuse to see Nance.” The last part is barely audible, but both you and Robin catch it, locking eyes, and she blushes. Nancy Wheeler, the Hawkins Girl Next door. Robin’s been pining over her since senior year of high school, with nothing to show for it.

Robin is harder to say no to than Steve. “Ugh, fine. I have one condition if you want me at this party.

Steve crosses his arms. “Bee, I can’t just not invite him.”

You shrug. “Okay, fine. Have a good time, let me know how it goes.” You grab your coat from the rack for emphasis.

“You’re bluffing.”

“You willing to bet on that?”

“What is your thing with him anyway?” Robin asks between munching on her chips, searching your face for a giveaway. “Like, I know he was there when Chris got cuffed, but is it really his fault your brother got caught?”

You’d never told your friends that Eddie had confessed, testified against your brother. Truthfully, you’d figured they’d find out on their own. You didn’t want to sway their opinions, you’d all been in the same friend group. Even now, you can’t bring yourself to explain the whole thing. “It’s a really, really long story that will kill the mood to tell.”

Steve huffs, hands on his hips. “You know I can’t use that to justify not inviting him.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m gonna be pissy all night.”

He cracks a smile. “Whatever keeps you entertained, dork.”

-

Steve leaves you in charge of the music, giggling to yourself as you scroll through his playlist titles: Sad Boy Autumn, Night of Clubbin’, Hot Steve Summer. You land on his Party Rock Anthems, and scroll through what Steve believes to be, according to the playlist description, “The Ultimate House Party Jams.” What a fuckin’ dweeb. The first song to play when you shuffle is 365 by Charli XCX and you can't help but burst into laughter. He’s not wrong, of course, but you can’t even slightly believe that Steve has listened to this song, let alone added it to a playlist.

“Great choice!” A voice, light as a bell, rings from behind you, and you turn to greet its owner only to be met face to face with Chrissy Cunningham. The second to last person you’d expect to know this song.

“Oh, yeah,” You stutter, unsure of how to respond. You wouldn’t call yourself a 365 party girl, especially not right now.

“You here with anyone?” Her ponytail swings as she cocks her head to the side, inspecting you.

“Uh, nah, not really. Chris is my brother, this party’s for him.”

“Oh, yeah! You’re Bee, right?”

“To some,” You laugh nervously, hating to be preceded by your brother’s reputation. “And you’re Chrissy, right? I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Oh, I don’t really. I’m here on a date.”

“Who’s your-“

“Hey, baby.” No. God, no fucking way. Eddie seemingly appears from nowhere, sliding his arm around Chrissy’s waist, hand playfully low on her hip. Suddenly, you’re seething, teeth clenched together and you’re convinced you can feel the beginning of a migraine. “What’s got you talkin’ to the wet blanket? Drink not strong enough?” He eyes you, amused by the way your eye twitches.

“Eddie! Be nice, this is Chris’s sister!”

Eddie scoffs at her, head thrown back. “I know, Princess. Tweety and I go way back.”

“I thought you said your name was Bee?”

You shrug. “It’s one of ‘em. Tweety, however, is not.” Not anymore, but you don’t add that part out loud.

“Whatever. C’mon, let me introduce you to the other, way less sexy Chris.” And without another glance your way, Eddie takes his girl into the backyard.

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You mutter, adding another, much less fun song to the queue.

“Okay, enough moping!” Robin snatches your phone from you just as Julien Baker’s voice starts in, quickly switching it back to Steve’s clubbing playlist. “C’mon, let’s go dance!”

“Only if I can get another drink first.” Your rum and coke is gone, and you’re feeling far too sober to be in the same room as Eddie, let alone his date. The thought sends chills of what you can only assume are disgust up your spine. Poor Chrissy, Eddie must have charmed her into going out with him, how else do you explain that couple? What lies did he tell her to convince her he’s a decent enough guy?

“Hey, stop seething, I can see the foam about to come out of your mouth.” Robin snaps you out of seeing red, handing you a hard cider that you pout at. “I wanted a dirty shirley.”

“And I want you alive in the morning to help me clean this place up. As the host, I win by default.”

You huff dramatically, but take the can anyway. “Can you believe Eddie convinced Chrissy to come here with him?”

Robin only shrugs. “He’s not a bad guy, Beebs. I think deep down, you know that.”

You bite your tongue. It is not your place. Your personal grievances are not your friends’ problems. “Maybe, but they’re so different.”

Robin shrugs. “It was either Chrissy or—“ She cuts herself off abruptly, and when you try to meet her eyes she averts them.

“Or who, Rob?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, never mind. Hey, look! Your brother’s here!”

You cock an eyebrow at her, but she’s not budging, pointing towards the entryway where your brother is being greeted in all directions. Someone hands him a beer, while another friend sparks a joint before passing it to him. It amazes you how loved your brother is after the hell he raises, and people barely register you exist, let alone that you’re his sister.

“Hey, kiddos!” Chris breaks away from his mob of fans to greet you and Robin, embracing you both in a group hug. Luckily, your brother doesn’t give a shit about how cool the rest of Hawkins thinks you are. He offers a hand out to Steve behind you. “Thank you for putting all this together, man. Means a lot.” Robin opens her mouth to argue, but closes it when Chris looks at her. “And thank you for letting him destroy your place for the night. I’ll help you with the damage in the morning.” He winks at Robin, who gives him the biggest toothy smile possible.

“Chris, man, you comin’ out? We’re playin’ beer pong.” One of Chris’s buddies, Gareth, offers him the tiny plastic ball.

“Oh, fuck yeah, man. But only if you’re on my team, I'm not losing to you and Eds at my own party.”

-

It’s three rounds before Chris and Steve convince you to play, Gareth having tapped out for the night to puke in the bushes. Eddie snickers to his cronies as you approach the table, sliding your windbreaker from your arms. For some reason, the exposure of your skin shuts him up, and you flex your fingers dramatically before plucking the ball from Steve’s hand. “You’re goin’ down, Sweetheart.” Eddie jabs his ringed pointer finger at you, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

He seems to notice his slip up, clearing his throat dramatically. “You gonna play, or what?”

You blink once, twice before nodding, suddenly feeling the effects of your earlier drinks. Have you eaten tonight?

You aim as well as your body allows, managing to sink the ball into the back corner cup. Your friends cheer, high diving each other before each extending a hand to you, and Eddie groans, removing the plastic before downing the cup and removing it from the lineup. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Oh, please!” Robin scolds from beside you. “Ballsy for someone to say after losing two out of the last three.” The small crowd of gathered acquaintances chuckle, earning a weak glare from a very intoxicated Eddie before he sets up his shot, effortlessly dropping the ball into the center cup. You begrudgingly remove it, chugging the lukewarm beer while your friends cheer and boo, all in good fun.

It mostly continues like that, a neck and neck game between your team consisting of you, Chris, and Steve against Eddie, Jeff, and a very giggly Chrissy. By the end, the backyard is on a tilted axis, and only one cup remains in front of either team.

“You ready to tap yet?” Eddie taunts, though he’s been leaning over the table for the last couple rounds, arms bracing him from falling to the ground.

“You wish, Munson.” And you let it fly, but your face falls when you realize you’d been too cocky, too soon. It bounces higher than you’d anticipated, sailing right over the cup and onto the ground, everyone’s eyes glued to it. “Fuck.” Robin snickers and you snap your head to glare at her. “Thank you for that vote of confidence.” You sneer, and she stifles another giggle fit.

“This is it, honey, for all the marbles.” You think he’s talking to Chrissy until he winks directly at you, the corner of his mouth pinching into a smirk. You look from him to his date to find her pouting, eyebrows scrunched together and arms crossed. You raise an eyebrow, unsure how to reassure the former cheerleader.

While you’re not looking, Eddie sinks the ball. Which, let’s be honest, you knew that was coming. You roll your eyes and lift the piss flavored drink to your lips, chugging with an open throat to avoid tasting it. Your friends and brother cheer you on, and when you slam the solo cup onto the table, you let out a massive belch. Eddie’s grin has split into a toothy beam, eyes wide with wonder, penetrating your very soul. Fuckin’ weirdo.

-

When your dizziness has subsided, you find Robin on the makeshift dance floor, a drink dangerously spilling over in her hand. “Hey, grouchy!” She calls you over, beckoning with her dance moves. You play along, pretending to be roped in by her lasso. “What’s got you all frowny now?”

You shrug, shaking your hips to a song you can’t place, trying to enjoy your buzz now that you’re not seeing double. “Guess I’m taking beer pong too seriously.”

Robin snorts. “Please, when have you ever given a shit about stupid drinking games?”

“I guess since Chris is home. Wanted to impress him.” Robin eyes you, biting her lip. “What?” You pry, and when she doesn’t answer, poke her in the ribs. “Cmon, spit it out.”

“I don’t think it was Chris you were trying to impress.” She winces, awaiting an outburst that doesn’t come. Instead, you reply with a monotone “Excuse me?”

She smiles tensely, all teeth and gums. “Sorry, I call em like I see em.” Robin’s eyes slide past you, landing over your shoulder. When you snap your head to find what she’s looking at, your eyes fall on Eddie, a beer forgotten in his hand as he whispers in Chrissy’s ear. He must be hilarious, because she can’t stop fucking laughing.

“Oh, you can’t be serious. You think I'm worried about what Munson has to say about me?”

She refocuses on your face, brows furrowed. “Maybe not what he has to say, but definitely what he thinks.” You gape at her, unable to respond with something clever. She only pats your shoulder. “It’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

-

“Okay, everyone out. You don’t have to go home, but ya can’t stay here.” Steve is waving people out the door, thanking them for destroying his and Robin’s apartment with a tired smile on his face. Finally, shuts the door. “That everyone?”

“Uh, no. We have some stragglers.”

Steve looks around the main room, then the kitchen. “Where?”

Robin juts her thumb to Steve’s bedroom. “Sorry, man.” You stifle a giggle with a cough, throwing another beer can into the recycling bin.

“Every damn time!” Steve stomps up to the door and starts banging. “Hey, party’s over. Put your pants back on!” He throws his bedroom door open, and you and Robin peer over his shoulders like nosy children.

“Whoa!” The larger figure scrambles, throwing the duvet over their head, while the smaller one shrieks, covering her face as Steve flicks the light on.

“Oh, come on. Eddie?”

“Hi, Stevie.” He slowly emerges from the blanket. “Funny running into you here.”

“It’s my room, idiot! Get out!”

“Okay, okay! Shit, I thought you wanted my help cleaning this shithole tomorrow!”

Steve huffs. “Doesn’t mean you can occupy my room and soil my sheets like this.”

Eddie gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m very clean, just had all my shots.” Steve only glares, but he gets the message across. “Okay! Damn. Sorry, Chrissy. I’ll call you, yeah?”

The girl rolls her eyes, face still cherry red. “Whatever, Eddie.” She snatches her shirt off the ground, and Steve turns to give her privacy. “Sorry, Steve. He said it was okay.” She avoids your eyes as she leaves, Eddie waving goofily behind her. Something in your chest hurts, and you chock it up to rage.

“You want sloppy seconds, Bee?”

You ignore him, and make your way back to the kitchen to rage clean. Over your shoulder, you hear your brother exclaims something, but you can’t make it out.

-

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part two here

content: this fic is 4-5 chapters long. i'm still trying to figure out if i should condense it to 4 or keep it at five. mostly gay pinning, fluff, angst and small slivers of smut (not very good at smut writing but i'm trying)

word count: 5k

thanks for reading!

Chapter One

It all started when your best friend told you she was moving out…

You both shared a flat, and for the last near decade or so, everything had relatively been good.

Until it wasn't.

“I know it's kind of bittersweet but,” Mel shrugs, looking down at the ice cream cone in her hand. Remnants of the vanilla treat gather above her top lip. You almost say something but she licks it away with one clean swipe of her tongue. “Alicia has been talking about this for almost a year. And I think it's time we take the next step.”

Alicia is Mel’s long-term girlfriend. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. It's a miracle that they haven't already moved in together considering how long they’ve been in each other’s lives. You should be happy for them. You really should. But a part of you keeps thinking about the upcoming renewal of the lease and the empty space that’ll fill up Mel’s side of the apartment once she leaves.

The two of you have been living together for a huge chunk of your adulthood. Honestly, the thought of returning home to Mel has been your norm for almost as long as you’ve been filing tax returns.

And now—she’s moving.

Leaving.

Just like that.

“Oh,” She croons. Her ice cream cone nearly falls as she scooches closer to you. “Don't cry.”

Your tears drip down your cheeks before trailing the slope of your jaw.

You aren’t surprised. This reaction is warranted. You aren't good at goodbyes.

Actually, no—this isn't quite a goodbye.

But it sure as hell feels just as painful.

There's not enough breathing exercises that’ll prepare you for the life transition that's doomed to happen. A chapter of your adulthood is closing right before your eyes. Mel will move out, marry Alicia, and have annoyingly cute babies. You’ll be the designated bestfriend–turned–aunt that will always feel stuck; left behind. 

It will be horrible.

“Nothing will change,” Mel comforts. She tries to multitask the art of devouring her ice cream while slinging her free arm around you. Her bubbling optimism is nearly comedic compared to your wallowing spirits.

“Everything will change!” Your voice cracks, body jerking as your lungs cause you to inhale sharp uneven gasps. “You've replaced me with Alicia as your roommate. Is she asking for the best friend title too?”

“Oh god—babe,” Another lick of her ice cream. She's trying to contain her laughter. The nerve of her! “I’ll always be your best friend. You know that.” She squeezes your shoulder. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

Your eyes burn more and another melodramatic wail leaves you.

The image of you–old and decrepit–in a nursing home comes to fruition. You're in the bed, smelly and miserable, while Alicia and Mel stand before you. They're old too, but far more beautiful. Far more accomplished. Less lonely. Still married. Still happy. 

Oh, and their kids are probably there in the room too; asking Mel why “their Aunt hasn't been properly groomed?”

Mel is absolutely wrong.

Everything will certainly not be okay. 

After a few days of sulking, you have a change of heart when Mel says, “I think I’ve found you a new roommate.”

Suddenly, the imminent doom of Mel moving out doesn’t seem so harrowing. Of course it still saddens you–she’s your best friend after all–but you’re no longer burdened with the stress of trying to find her replacement. 

You and Mel butt heads about a ton of senseless things, but she never disappoints you on the most important matters. 

So if she thinks that someone is suitable enough to be your roommate, then you have hope that she’s right. 

“Who?” Your head snaps up as you look at her. She stands on the other side of the kitchen island, elbows leaning against the wooden countertop and chin resting in her palms. You were mopping the floor–a truly rare occurrence for you–when Mel came out of her room to announce the good news. 

“You know how Alicia goes out with her teammates every now and then?” 

Your memory travels to the brief conversations of Mel mentioning this in the past. Alicia used to be a college athlete during her undergrad. Apparently, she still has a budding relationship with a few of her old teammates, and likes to go to dinners with them to catch up every few months. 

“Well,” Mel continues. “Her friend, Sevika, hasn’t been able to come to the dinners these last few years because she lived up north for a while. But she’s back in town. And I guess she doesn’t like the place she’s at. Apparently, it’s too close to the city. Too hectic. She’s been looking at places in our neighborhood. And when Alicia mentioned it to me, I just figured...”

You nod slowly in understanding, “Oh.”

“I mean, it’s kind of working out perfectly…rather coincidental but I just thought it would make you feel better if your next roommate wasn’t a complete stranger.”

“Do you know her well?”

“I’ve hung out with Sevika countless times before she moved away.” The brown irises of Mel’s eyes become distant; as if she’s drifting off to another time. “God, that feels like so long ago somehow... But I think you’d like her.” Her lips pull into a small smile. “She seems a bit remote at first but it’s all fun and games. I promise.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, trying to wrap your brain around it all. “And you’re sure that she’s–I mean, not that I don’t trust your word. I’m just nervous, I suppose. She isn’t like–”

“Sevika’s good people,” Mel laughs, gazing at you with understanding. “But I get it. So here’s what I was thinking… We can host a brunch and invite her over? That way you can meet her formally and get to know her. Maybe show her around the place? As much as I want this to pan out great, it’s still your decision to make at the end of the day.” She pauses a few beats, trying to gauge your reaction. “What do you think?”

Your hands fiddle with the top of the swiffer handle as you weigh your options. You had put together a more elaborate and time consuming plan prior to today; which would have consisted of flyers and roommate interviews and even Facebook posts. Of course, posting to Facebook would have been the last resort; an addition to the plan that you only added out of mere desperation. But it was a plan nonetheless.

Mel’s offer is more tempting. 

“Okay,” You sigh, squeezing the handle of the swiffer. “But if this doesn’t work out, then you owe me ice cream.”

She beams, clapping her hands together excitedly. 

“And not the cheap kind,” You add. “I’m talking Cold Stone.”

Mel doesn’t appear to be fazed. Instead, she turns on her heels, making her way back to her room. “I’m gonna call Alicia and let her know!” The exclamation has a song-like lilt to it; a clear indication of her delight.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting off a grin while you carry the swiffer to the trash can.

Your thumb absentmindedly plays with the stringy bracelet decorating your right wrist; a gift that Mel gave you over ten years ago when the two of you first became friends. It’s nearly falling apart now, but still a staple piece in your daily attire. You find yourself looming over the possible outcome of tonight’s gathering–for the ‘nth time–as your stomach stirs with unease. 

It’s not like you haven’t been obsessively ruminating over this very evening. It’s all you’ve been able to think about ever since Mel helped you plan it last week. But despite all of the preparation, your mouth still remains dry.

You’re seated at the dining table, with Mel to your right and Alicia right across from her. Sevika faces you directly, which is a circumstance you tried to desperately avoid upon Mel’s suggestion.

“How do you guys like the food?” Mel asks. “I can proudly say that I’ve managed to keep the kitchen intact while I was preparing it.”

Alicia’s eyes twinkle when she glances at her girlfriend. “It’s good, honey. Thank you.”

A pair of alert grey irises flicker to you: Sevika’s. 

The woman studies you with a gaze that is piercing and direct. She takes you in fully–something that she’s been doing all night–which makes you feel as if you’re under inspection. You can’t decide whether or not you like that about her.

“It was nice, Mel.” You reply. You wolfed down your food the minute your plate was served. So now you’re just awkwardly waiting for everyone else to finish their meal.

You usually don’t eat so quickly, but the task gave you something else to distract yourself with, rather than Sevika’s scrutiny. 

But despite doing everything possible to avoid her stare, you can’t help but notice the calm and leisure way she eats her food. From what you’ve gathered, she doesn’t seem fond of mixing meals with conversation. But there’s still a pleasant way that she dines. 

The oscillation of her jaw, especially with every chew, is a trait that you find particularly distracting…

“So, are you enjoying your return to town?” Mel inquires, turning to Sevika. She’s always had the talent of conversing with the least willing. 

It takes a few seconds for Sevika to shift her gaze away from you.

You feel your muscles relax when she does.

“Yeah, it’s been good,” Sevika’s voice adopts an amiable timbre; a pattern you’ve picked up on every time she addresses Mel. “The traffic sucks on the east side, but that's nothing new.”

Mel hums in understanding. “Well, I think you’ll like it here.The people are quieter. Life is slower.” 

That’s when Alicia takes that as her cue to wrap her arm around Sevika’s shoulder. They’re both nearly the same height, only Alicia is leaner. 

“It’s good that you’re back home,” Alicia butts in. “You’re getting wrinkles. You’ve been frowning too much.”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “I’ve been perfectly fine.”

“Is that so? I heard…”

You’re ripped from their conversation when Mel wraps her fingers around your bicep. She leans into your ear, whispering, “Let’s go to the kitchen.” 

You follow her without question.

It’s not until you’re grabbing the fruit salad out of the refrigerator when she says, “How are you liking her so far?”

You bite the inside of your cheek while carrying the dessert to the counter. 

“I don’t know.” You try to sort through your feelings to find some sort of opinion–anything–that can help you identify your stance. But it’s to no avail. “She’s a bit intense, don’t you think?” 

“Well,” Mel snickers. “I suppose.”

You glance up at her, noticing the way that she’s covering her smile with her hand. She flutters her eyelashes coyly, “But is that not a good thing? You’ve been staring at her all evening.” She continues, wiggling her eyebrow.

“Please don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying…”

“There’s nothing that needs to be said.”

“...the tension has been palpable ever since you laid eyes on her. You don’t have to make it into a bad thing, babe. You both are grown adults here.” 

Your jaw is clenching when you mutter, “Well, you're off-base on this one.”

You think you hear her laugh again, but you don’t have the energy to entertain it. Instead, you turn around and march back to the dining room.

Your eyes are slightly droopy from the combination of wine and dinner that sloshes in your belly.

Under the haze of the ceiling lamps, you stand with your arms folded across your chest.

“This would be your room,” You’re mumbling. Sevika hums beside you, only a few feet away. She’s so far yet so close. Too close.

Yet not close enough.

You feel silly for thinking such thoughts. 

It must be the wine.

The floorboards creak underneath her weight as she inspects the room. It has a fair amount of space in it. It’s larger than your room for sure. The connecting bathroom is smaller than yours though–a bargain that you and Mel made over a decade ago.

Sevika travels to a nearby wall, inspecting the paint job for a few seconds before peering at you.

Despite the warmth emanating from the heating system, a cool shiver runs through you. 

Your voice dips with humor when you explain that, “Mel painted it a while back.”

You examine the way she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose. A vein from her right forearm flexes due to the movement. 

She smiles, poised and reposeful. 

“Figures,” That’s when you notice the fullness of her lips—her prominent cupid's bow, and how well they look when spread into a grin like that.

She stretches her arms above her head, back arching as she seemingly holds back a yawn. You fight the urge to do the same, eyes trailing over her physique before you can stop yourself. Sevika looks strong–really strong. Her arms are thick bands of pure muscle and her broad shoulders barely concave from the movement.

She’s wearing a long-sleeved button up, which has a toffee silk-like material. You don’t realize how low her black slacks are sitting on her hips until the hem of her shirt rises. A happy trail peaks through, as well as deeply grooved muscles. 

The sight feels sacrilegious and simultaneously pious. Your eyelids are heavy, droopy, when her muscles relax and her arms fall to her sides. You draw your attention back to her face. She’s caught you, eyebrows lifted and lips pursed to the side–an attempt to mask her amusement? You don’t know. Or at least, you don’t want to. 

With the sudden pounding of your heart, you gesture behind you, “I can show you the laundry room?” Your desire to escape has never felt so prominent until then.

You're beginning to realize that she makes it hard for you to breathe when you’re around her.

Laughter rings in the air between everyone–Sevika, you, Alicia and Mel–while Alicia tells a funny story about a customer she had a few days prior. You’re wearing one of your nighttime sweaters now, a glass of wine in your hand, while all of you sit in the living room. 

Sevika cards her hand through her hair. It’s no longer in its bun, meeting the sides of her face with buoyancy. The length is much longer than you initially thought, stopping a few inches below her neck; a feathery cut that frames her face quite perfectly.

She sits with her legs parted, left arm resting along the back of the couch. Her fingers lay a few inches from your right shoulder. With a mere flex of her hand, she’d be able to touch you. 

Amidst the ring of Alicia’s voice–she’s going into detail about another story now–you turn to Sevika and ask, “Are you a heavy sleeper?”

You receive a better angle of her chiseled jaw when she tilts her head, expression contemplative while she thinks of an answer. You aren’t sure why it takes her so long since it’s not necessarily a loaded question to ask, but still—you allow her to think.

“Not really,” Her eyes dart back to you. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“I'm not sure,” You blink through a daze, overcome with an unexpected wave of tranquility due to her regard. “I listen to music sometimes in the middle of the night. It helps with my insomnia.”

“...Well, is it loud?”

“Not all the time. But you may hear it faintly.”

A nod. “Then that’s fine with me.”

You swivel the wine in your hand, “Besides going out for work, a lot of my hobbies consist of me being at home. You’ll probably see me a lot.”

“Not a problem.”

“I’m not incredibly messy or dirty but…” Your palms sweat from the loose confession. “I’m not a neat freak. And I don't like mornings. I'm really grumpy any hour before 11. Like—I will not speak if I can avoid it. And I’m a terrible cook.”

She looks away from you momentarily, lips rubbing together as her hand flexes. You grow rigid at the motion; she’s only inches away from coming in contact with your shoulder. Then her fingers relax. She looks back at you. Her lips part, “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

Her left eyebrow twitches. “You call the shots. If you don't think it’ll work, I can look into renting somewhere else.”

“I'm just trying to be transparent with you as much as possible.” 

You don't want any surprises. The last thing you need is the false hope of thinking this will work just to ultimately have the infamous roommate disagreements that you've heard too much about. 

You got lucky with Mel. 

For 13 years, you’ve managed to have the best roommate dynamic. But now she's leaving soon. And you fear that those 13 years have just been a fluke.

If Sevika is truly serious about moving in, you need to make sure that it'll be a right fit.

“Do you have any kids?” You find yourself asking.

She lets out a gusty breath; a dry chuckle mixed with a hint of disbelief. For a second, you fear that you've offended her.

But then she's replying, “God no.” She grins with her head slightly shaking. You swear she leans a few inches closer as she adds, “Do you?”

You blink. You swallow. You try to not get distracted by the swirling grey of her irises. They're quite pretty. Too pretty. Unbelievably pretty.

“Definitely not.” 

Her grin widens, “Okay, so we at least have that in common.” She allows her eyes to flicker to other features of your face; your eyebrows, then your cheeks, then your nose. “Are there any other incriminating questions that you have?”

“Of course.”

She laughs again and her eyes fall shut. There's a part of you that wants to draw closer to her at that moment. But you remain where you are; as if you’re resisting the tug of a rope. 

“Okay,” She mutters, voice a gentle hum while her lips remain pulled into a grin. 

“Does that annoy you?” You find yourself asking. It’s a silent test. You want to know if this will turn her away. Is she willing to answer your long list of questions? And if she is–will you find something about her that you don’t like? 

“No, I don’t mind at all.” Her eyes flutter open slowly, blazing a stormy grey when they land on you. “Ask however many questions you need.” 

Her hand flexes once more. This time you feel it. It’s the slightest graze, and too fleeting for it to feel real. The tip of her forefingers brush against the material of your shirt, at the very top of your bicep, before she’s running her hand through her hair. It could have been an accident–a mere sweep due to her close proximity–but you guess you’d never truly know.  

Your breathing falters. She blinks at you with a placid expression, seemingly unfazed. 

“Okay,” You clear your throat, shifting your weight restlessly. You try to put more distance between you two by subtly scooting a few inches to your left.

“...Going to get some more wine. Be right back!’ Mel calls. 

The bubble around you and Sevika bursts.

You’re submerged into the sound of the TV playing an Old Navy commercial. Alicia stares at the screen with droopy eyes, feet propped up in the recliner chair and hands clasped together as they rest on her stomach. She hums lazily at Mel’s announcement. Faintly, you begin to hear Mel rummaging through the kitchen: the clanging of silverware, the rush of running water, then the thump! of a closing cupboard. The calming livelihood of Mel and Alicia’s existence buzzes around you. But you somehow find yourself turning back towards Sevika because, although you don't want to admit it, she’s a new enigma that’s hurdled into your life. 

She beholds you with remarkable patience, elbow now resting against the back of the couch as she cradles her temple with her hand. 

“So…” She says, voice laced with an expectation. She’s waiting on you.

“Right,” You nod. You shake your head in an attempt to clear the brain fog. Must be the alcohol... "Do you smoke?”

Sevika does smoke; she has a preference for cigars. 

She’s a tattoo artist, which you never pinned her for. But after a few seconds of contemplation, it makes sense. She tells you that it’s been her career for a long time now.

She’s quite the morning person and a bit meticulous about her living environment. She likes to cook and happily divulges in burning incense. She doesn't have very many friends, but the ones she does have are practically her family—who, she assures with an unwavering gaze, are people that, “You will love.”

She doesn't watch much television, but she does have a knack for sports. “I like to have my friends over on game days,” She admits, sending you a sidelong glance. “Would that be something you're okay with?”

Not much time passes before you're nodding your head yes.

Sevika has no siblings and no parents. Her parents passed away a while back–a fact that you seemed more saddened by than her–and left her their house, which is why she moved out of town a few years ago.

When you ask her why she’s decided to return, she doesn't answer. 

It’s your only question that makes her come to a full stop.

When the night ends and she’s getting ready to leave the apartment with Alicia quickly behind her, it’s the only question that's lingering in your mind.

And after Mel closes the door, bolts it shut and asks, “Any red flags from Sevika?”

It’s the sole reason why you find yourself hesitating, wanting—for some strange reason—to tell Mel yes. Even though every fiber of your being knows that the true answer is no.

Sevika’s vehicle is exactly the sort of car you’d picture her in. A sleek black Ram 1500 sits in front of you. Your eyes are wandering. You can't help it. You don't want to make it into a thing. It's only a truck after all…

But you've always admired cars, especially the big shiny ones.

 “I would have showed you this days ago had I known you’d be so pleased,” Sevika muses. That's when you draw your attention back to her. "I didn't know you liked cars so much."

She's gazing at you with the smallest form of a smirk on her face. You want to wipe it off; you feel vulnerable somehow. Exposed.

You blink wordlessly, breath shallowing and palms clamming up. 

How is she so infuriatingly good looking? 

Then, as if you've suddenly become aware of everything else about her, you're taking the rest of her body into account. Her bulging biceps are flexed due to the moving box in her arms. Small beads of sweat collect at the base of her neck…some sliding into the dips of her collarbones. Her hair is pulled into a low bun, highlighting the clenching of her jaw as she chews her gum; minty breath wafting towards you. Your stomach dips. 

“Shut up,” You mutter.

Her grin widens. She laughs. You struggle to suppress one yourself. 

She doesn't say anything else.

You stand awkwardly by her truck as she turns to walk into the apartment. 

A part of you doesn't know what to make of this. Here you are, moving a woman that you've just met into your apartment, with no idea of how this will turn out.

You feel like you're floundering through life. Surely, everyone else your age is settled down with a family and a secure living environment—not stressing over the prospect of a new roommate. This situation feels too…juvenile. It would make sense for a younger version of yourself to be facing roommate insecurity. It would make sense for your younger self to grow uncharacteristically flustered and perturbed around someone like Sevika.

But not now. No—certainly not now.

The sound of Sevika’s footsteps pull you from your reverie. When you glance in her direction, the first thing you notice is the quirk of her eyebrows. You shift your weight, wringing your hands as you work up the courage to say, “I can help,” You clear your throat. “If you want.”

She’s in the middle of grabbing another box from her car but stops mid-reach from the sound of your offer. She cranes her neck, lines appearing in her forehead as she mutters, “I’m good.”

You take offense to that. Does she think you're weak? That you're not strong enough to carry a few stupid boxes? Or worse—has she already found a reason to dislike you?

Goosebumps trail up your back.

“I’m strong enough, you know.” You find yourself tilting your chin up defiantly. 

“Is that so?”

“I may not be ripped like you,” You fold your arms across your chest and you hear a snort. A fucking snort! “But I don't pay for pilates classes for nothing."

That's when she stands upright, two stacked boxes now in her arms. She manages to rest them on her left hip, closing the back door in one swift motion.

"Yeah?" Then she’s tilting her head slightly, appraising you with an expression that nearly sets you on fire. "You think I'm strong?"

The world around you spins and you're nearly knocked off balance.

There's a part of your spirit that uncurls. Heat plants a seed in your gut then burns, burns, burns.

Perspiration has gathered at the base of your neck, and one bead of sweat drips down the slope of your spine. Then another. You're scowling at her, a reaction that she seems to enjoy, when you feel the drip of one more.

She takes your silence without question. Her irises trail down to your crossed arms then back up to your face before continuing. “You don't have to lift a single one of those pretty fingers for me.” Then you feel her warmth—her touch—at the tip of your chin. It's a small brush with her index finger, yet strong enough to tilt your head before she's pulling away. Then she's grabbing the boxes with both of her hands, snickering under her breath while adding, “But since you seem like the adamant type—be my guest, darling.”

Your legs tremble when she brushes past you.

For the rest of the evening, you allow her to settle into the apartment without your help.

“Sevika?” Your voice is scratchy from lack of use. “Can you help me?”

You're frustrated because you can't find your favorite mug. The entire kitchen is spotless—a sort of clean you haven't seen in ages. You're grateful for Sevika—truly, you are. But due to how organized it all is, you now have difficulty locating everything. The way she cleans and sorts through the apartment is completely different from your way. 

Irritated, you call her name again. But no answer.

You know that she’s in her room because her door is closed. It’s only been a few days since she’s moved in but you’ve started to notice that she likes to leave it open when she's not in there. 

You sigh, storming to her room. You have a taste for tea, something you've been craving all morning. And now that you've finally finished your work, you’d been so excited to drink it. 

But now you're completely turned about by the state of the kitchen. Nothing is where you usually keep it.

“Sevika!” You practically bark, voice growing thin. “Are you awake?”

You're about to knock on her door—a disturbance that would surely wake her if she's in a deep slumber—but then it flies open. And there she stands, wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top. She appears to have just showered, hair seemingly damp and towel in her hand. That familiar woodsy scent of hers hits you like a tide wave, but this time it’s tenfold stronger than what it usually is.

“Is there a reason why you're shouting my name at 10 AM?”

You swallow thickly. Your mouth has suddenly become dry. “I can't find the mugs.”

Sevika blinks slowly then mutters, “What?”

“The mugs. They're a type of cup, cylindrical in size? Often used to drink things like coffee, tea, hot ch-”

“They're in the cupboard by the refrigerator.”

“...”

“...”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why are they in there? I’ve never put them there before.”

“You could barely reach the cupboard they were originally in—”

“That's why I have a stepping stool!”

“So I figured it would be easier if they were moved to one that's more accessible for you. I told you about this Tuesday. Do you not remember?”

“...You never told me that.”

“Yes,” Her jaw grinds. “I did. You were talking to Mel on facetime and nearly ate shit when grabbing that awfully gaudy mug you like,” Oh. “So I told you that I would move it to the cupboard by the refrigerator,” Oh. “And you looked me right in the eye, smiled and said you thought that was a great idea.” Fuck. “...Do you not remember that?”

That’s right.

You did say that.

Your heartbeat skips from the piercing silence.

God, she's going to think you're crazy now.

Sevika sighs. 

Shoving down a mountain of guilt, you shift your weight, “I’m sorry. I don't think I actually processed that conversation when it happened.”

She isn't quick to reply, and you're not sure where to go from there. So you add, “Um, would you like some tea?”

As a peace offering, you make Sevika a cup of tea the next morning too.

The third day is when you have to go back to work, so you force yourself awake earlier than you want. There's still a small chip of guilt weighing on your shoulders that morning, so you fix Sevika a cup of tea again.

You also do it for that following morning because it's Saturday. Who wouldn't want tea on Saturday?

Sunday is a lazy day for Sevika. But somehow she's already in the kitchen when you stumble in at a harrowing 8am. She's waiting for the toaster oven to sound when you pull two mugs out of the cupboard. Even after the appliance dings, she lingers with you in the kitchen, silently eating her toast while you prepare the kettle. Ten minutes later, she’s drinking her tea while her elbows lean against the island counter. 

You hold onto your mug tightly and listen to the chirping of the birds in the distance. The only other sound that is audible are her even breaths. 

You don't know how you've settled into such a routine after 8 days of living with her. But somehow, standing in the middle of the kitchen together with nothing but comfortable silence, you think that you’ve found the oasis of serenity.

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go (18+) - Masterpost

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, drama, eventual smut, fluff. 

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of cheating, broken relationship, reader is suffering so bad, pining, more will be added to each part. 

Word count: will be mentioned in each part. 476 for the prologue.

Listened to: Where Do Broken Hearts Go by One Direction

Taglist requests are closed!

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First of all, Happy birthday to Jungkook. Secondly, I finally grew enough balls to start another legit series after a damn year. And obviously it had to be angst. Hope you guys like this attempt of mine.

Disclaimers: Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

Chapters:- 

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Drabbles: Daydream, Incognito

Prologue under cut

“No. No. This is not true. This is not true.” Your murmur under your breath. Clenching your phone hard, you try to keep your breathing stable. 

“Calvin Kline Ambassador Jeon Jungkook is rumored to be dating actress Han Jiwon.” you read the headline again and then dive into the article. It explains how your boyfriend had been seen leaving his hotel with one of the most popular actresses of the industry. 

There is no mistake, it is Jungkook indeed. You would recognize his bunny features even in your deep sleep, no matter how many hats and masks he uses to conceal his identity. In the picture, he is tightly grasping the hands of the actress as both of them are caught by the camera. 

The picture was probably taken last month during Jungkook’s overseas schedule. He didn’t mention having a “friend” over there. He never mentioned anything about meeting Jiwon there. But again, he hardly ever mentions anything anymore. 

You put your phone upside down. Inhaling a deep breath, you shut your eyes. 

Your body feels heavy, your heart twists in a fear of uncovering a truth that will leave you broken, will leave you stranded on a lonely island all by yourself. 

You knew he was changing, you knew he was drifting apart, you know he doesn’t look at you with the same glint in his eyes. You know it all and yet you kept your fingers crossed. 

A tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp the lump that formed in your throat overtime. 

The door lock chimes in signaling someone has just punched the key-code. You know who it is but you stay in your place, eyes closed. 

Soft thud of foot-steps echo in your otherwise silent apartment. You still don’t budge. 

He slowly walks closer to your body, stands right beside you, and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“It is not what you think it is, Y/N” Jungkook speaks with a barely audible voice. 

“I know.” you reply while standing up from your seat. 

“I didn’t cheat.” he explains again. 

You come face to face with him. His face bears no sign of discomfort, pain or guilt. It’s just… blank. His eyes are so blank that you think he is actually sorry for not cheating on you. 

“I know.” you offer again. Walking forward towards your boyfriend, you wrap him in your embrace but… he doesn’t hug you back immediately. 

When he places his hands flat on your back, not totally wrapping you up the way he used to, you know it. You know it’s gone. 

The familiarity of his warmth, his scent, the feeling of being home, is gone. Even if your body is touching his, you know he is actually miles and miles away from you. And you have doubts if he is ever going to return or not.

--

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel

[cozage]

The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 4: Celebrating the Little Things

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Summary: As the daughter of the best swordsman in the world, your life has been a lonely one. You've never minded the quiet life, until a mossy-haired swordsman falls to your island and shakes things up. Word Count: 1.3k Characters: female reader x Zoro

You decided to read for another hour before you risked venturing up to the third story. Based on a lifetime with your father, you knew it took him 15 minutes to get ready for bed, then 15 minutes to fall asleep. But you wanted to make sure he was in a deep sleep before you made any noise that might wake him. 

You crept past your fathers door and down the hall to Zoro’s new bedroom. You knocked softly on his door, trying your best not to disturb your father. He was a few rooms down, but he had always been a light sleeper. 

Zoro softly opened the door with a light creak, and you held up two bottles of wine and two glasses. “Celebration time!” You cheered quietly, raising the wine bottles in the air. 

Zoro frowned. “Just two?” he asked, looking at the bottles with disappointment. 

You rolled your eyes and sauntered past him into the room. You waited until his door had shut before you talked more freely. “We’re celebrating,” you hissed. “Not getting drunk off our ass!”

“Boring,” he said, but you could see a teasing smile dance across his lips. 

“Wanna make it a competition?” you asked, holding out a bottle to the swordsman. 

He raised an eyebrow as he took the bottle. “You’ll lose.”

You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t bluffing. You didn’t doubt it either; you had seen him down alcohol at dinner. The substance barely affected him, even after several bottles. If it were a drinking contest, you were certain you’d lose miserably. 

“Not quite what you’re thinking,” you said. “Whoever can cut the cleanest cut across the bottle wins.”

Zoro laughed, turning the bottle over in his hand. He looked at the label, and you watched as his eyes practically popped out of their sockets when he saw the price tag. 

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You can’t risk wasting such good alcohol for a competition.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Scared to lose?” you asked innocently. You could see irritation spring up in his expression from your taunting. “We don’t have bottle openers anyway. You’ll have to slice it open.”

“Why the hell don’t you have a bottle opener?!” He demanded, his voice rising.

“Shush!” you hissed. “I don’t want to wake the others! Unless you want to share.”

Zoro frowned, obviously not wanting to lose his celebratory bottle. 

You placed your bottle on the floor and held out Nikko, readying yourself to make the cut. Zoro did the same, looking at the bottle uneasily. 

“If anything, I’m at a disadvantage. The teeth on Nikko could shatter the entire bottle.”

Zoro scoffed. “If you break yours, I’m not sharing.”

You sliced at the bottle without another word, a perfect cut across the neck. You suppressed a smile. Your father had always said there was no point for bottle openers; if you were too sloppy to open a bottle with a sword, you didn’t deserve to drink its contents. 

Zoro went next. There was some slight hesitation in his movement, but he was strong and had a good grip on the sword. The cut was clean, though upon further examination, not perfect. 

You clicked your tongue. “I see an imperfection right here.” You shook your head. “I think that means I won.”

“Oh piss off!” Zoro grabbed his bottle from your critical gaze and took a long swig. 

You grabbed your own bottle and sat down on the floor, savoring the rich flavors of the wine. It had to be at least 20 years old. Your father always picked the best wine when he was away. 

“So, you’re going to be the best swordsman some day?” you asked, trying to make small talk. 

“I am.” He let out a deep sigh. “This is damn good wine.”

“Why do you want to be the best?” you asked, looking at him inquisitively. 

He bit his lip, waiting a moment before he responded. “I made a promise.”

You raised an eyebrow. “To your captain?”

“No.”

The shortness of his answer surprised you. “Then to who?” 

He gritted his teeth. “Can you stop with the questions?”

His irritation made your face burn, and you took a long drink of wine to cover it up. It had been a long time since you had constant interaction with another human being who wasn’t your father. 

Sure, you had gone on small missions, but you had never gotten to know anyone. You were usually killing people or sneaking around, finding the highest bounty pirates you could so you could return home with some money. 

Being with Zoro was nothing like that. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I just don’t like talking about it.”

“That’s okay,” you said quietly, taking another drink.

“What about you?” Zoro asked. “Don’t you want to be the best?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I just want to be good enough to survive in the outside world.”

Zoro gave a dry laugh. “Trust me sweetheart, you’d be one of the best anywhere on the Grand Line.”

His compliment made your face flush again, and a heavy silence fell between you two. You weren’t sure how to tell him that even if you wanted to leave the island, you had nowhere to go. You could survive on the Grand Line, but you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to do if you left Gloom Island. You had no idea who you wanted to be. 

“Thanks again for today,” Zoro said, finally bringing you back from your thoughts. 

You waved him off. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” he said, looking in your eyes. 

You weren’t sure when he had gotten so close to you. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You tried to blink a few times to clear your head, but your thoughts grew cloudy again the moment you looked at his slate-gray eyes. The wine must’ve gone to your head faster than you anticipated.

You weren’t sure why, but the alarm bells in your brain were ringing. Dangerous territory. You shouldn’t be here with him. Your father’s enemy. The one who would bring him down. You shouldn’t have come here. And yet all you wanted to do was move closer. 

You finally found the words you were looking for, and they came out in a whisper. “Whenever you need help, just let me know.”

He gave a small smile. “Tomorrow then. You’ll help me infuse the haki into my sword?”

You scowled, pulling back from him and taking a drink of wine. “You’re at least a month away from trying that, Roronoa.”

“I have a good teacher.”

You gave a light chuckle, finishing off the last of your wine and setting the bottle down. “That’s why I gave you a month.”

“Call me Zoro.” He set down his bottle and shook his head. “No need for the honorifics if you’re going to be training me.”

You weren’t sure why it mattered, but you nodded. 

Your body felt heavy, the wine coursing through your bloodstream. You needed to get to bed before you started feeling the negative effects of the alcohol. You stood to your feet, heading for the door, swaying much more than you intended to. 

“Let me walk you back to your room.”

You snorted. “You’d get hopelessly lost if you tried that.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I think I can find my way back to my room.”

“I don’t!” you barked out another laugh, the wine amplifying your giddiness. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You could feel his eyes on you as you opened the door, and you turned back to him one last time. “Goodnight, Roronoa Zoro.”

His eyes bore into your soul as he said, “Goodnight.”

You could feel his gaze on you as you gave him one last smile. You could feel him staring at you, even as you quietly shut his door. And you could’ve sworn his eyes followed you all the way back to your room, until you fell into your bed and promptly fell asleep for the night. 

[fellow-human-writer]

On writing motivation and writer's block (+ a special piece of my own writing)

So, for a self-proclaimed writer, I haven't been doing very well with my writing lately. It's been well over six months now since I last wrote anything of substance (I spent two weeks writing a chapter every day and burned myself out, but that's a story for another day). Right now, it's hard to not feel a bitter sense of guilt about it all. Where has all my motivation gone? How dare I call myself a writer? Maybe I should just forget about it. I'd never make it anyway. But then, I remember one particular piece of writing I produced over 9 months ago, some time before hitting my big wall. A seemingly random fragment from chapter 9 of my semi-abandoned WIP. Perhaps it will read as nothing special to you. I won't claim it to be perfect, or even great writing. But to me, it is hope. I showed it to my one and only beta (more like alpha) reader at the time, who'd been keeping up with my novel-writing endeavors, and they told me that these paragraphs had evoked deep feelings in them. That they were beautiful. It won't have that effect on everyone—hell, it won't have it on most people. But, at the very least, I made one person feel something beautiful with my writing. I know that. And is that not what this is all about? As long as I can make one person feel, maybe it's all worth it after all. I will keep calling myself a writer. I won't give up. And I guarantee, you reading this right now have the ability to make people feel too, no matter what. Be strong, friend. I will be rooting for you. I want to share that special fragment of mine with you all. It's out of context, given that it's from chapter 9 of a novel, but I think it can mostly stand on its own. One crucial piece of worldbuilding first: The main trait this fantasy world has is that its two continents (gigantic floating islands/landmasses) are situated in such a way that the one on top (the "highlands") block most of the light/sky for the residents of the one below (the "lowlands"), which is where our POV character currently is, going through some magical trial or other (you'll see!) Without further ado, here's said piece of writing. I hope at least one of you out there who randomly came across this post enjoys it :]

Leiden looked up. The base of the highlands couldn't be more than a couple dozen paces away. From so up close it felt even more oppressive than usual. He noticed a second plaque, inlaid in the roof of the tower, where he was standing. There was more to the trial, as he suspected. After reading its contents, however, he felt confused. ‘I'm glad to see you make it here. Your task is simple: Feast upon the beauty of the sky.’ He looked up again. It would be hard to feast upon what wasn't there. If he looked to the sides, he could just barely make out the thin lines of sky visible beyond the highlands. It didn't feel like enough to exactly feast upon. For the sake of trying something, he lied down with his back to the stone. He had enjoyed cloud watching, back when he was above. Even though there were only rocks on top of him, he wrapped his hands behind his head, and tried to remember the feeling of admiring the sky. He closed his eyes and pictured a summer afternoon, with an open sky decorated by a few lonely clouds. What was the point of this trial? Maybe it had once been possible to see the sky from here. Had the highlands not always been above the lowlands? Perhaps it was all part of the trial. Slowly, those complicated thoughts ran out of steam, and Leiden became fully involved in his personal sky, and his little clouds. It was nice. It had been a while since he'd felt like he could afford to take a moment to just relax. He saw shapes of all kinds in the clouds, as they swirled and morphed and danced with the wind. Sometimes the sun peeked from behind, bathing him in rays of light. He realized there was no need to limit himself to one kind of sky. A wave of darkness swept over the azure background, and small brilliant dots started to cover the sea of black. The moon stood out amongst them all, shining with borrowed light. It seemed larger than usual, like it was stretching to cover Leiden's view to the fullest extent it was capable of. For a moment, within himself, Leiden stopped feeling alone as he became part of a whole. He was a blade of grass, swaying in the dirt, surrounded by acres of grassy fields. He was a star, shining with the endless power of the sun; a speck, part of a map of dots where each one represented wonders beyond a human’s capability to understand. He was everything, and yet he was nothing at all. It was a realization that often eluded a species defined by their willingness to work against nature. What separates a human from an eagle, soaring through the clouds; or an ant, working hard for the good of its colony? What makes us so different from a flower, helping the bee produce its food in exchange for having their lineage continued? Are we so different from a gust of wind, ephemeral in its passing, yet meaningful all the same? Leiden felt like a mote of dust, suspended in a beam of light. Visible only as long as the sun shined, yet always there. He floated in the air, no longer supported by the steady stone beneath him. Well done, child, a voice said. He was so surprised by the voice that he snapped out of his daydreaming. He opened his eyes and realized that he really was floating—or he had been, until the free fall started.

Thank you sincerely for taking the time to read it. It means a lot. I would love to hear what more people think of it. I'm still severely lacking as a writer, but I'm proud of it. It's more poetic than what I usually produce. That's all for today, friends. I hope you have a wonderful day. Good luck on your writing endeavors! We'll make it through, together <3

[mirandasidefics]

But Home Is Nowhere- Chapter 7

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel X Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Part 7 Summary: Reader joins Nesta and Bryce for an experiment at the Prison.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning(s): Spoilers for Crescent City 3

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short and took so long. I had a really tough time writing this chapter after getting sick earlier this month.

As usual now there are some minor spoilers from HOFAS. I have a little head canon that Bryce was able to enter the Prison because she is a blood relation to Rhysand, albeit distant, so that's how she got past the wards without him having to be present.

I'm interested to see what people think regarding how or why Lucien showed up when he did...I'm toying with some ideas...

Series Masterlist

Previous: Chapter 6

You were fucking freezing. Teeth chattering, full body tremor freezing. The Prison, with its shores swathed in mist and snow covered peak, was on an isolated island in the far northern regions of Prythian, so of course it had to be cold. Wind and snow whipped around you and your two companions as you all stood on the far northern side of the mountain top. You were still dressed in the Illyrian leathers as you weren’t really given the chance to change after having quickly grabbed your cell phone from the town house at Bryce’s direction. Said female then winnowed you and Nesta directly from your bedroom. Neither female had yet to explain what this “experiment” would entail and why you needed your cell phone, which had minimal power left and no way for you to ever charge it again once the battery finally drained.

You rarely turned your phone on these days, wanting to preserve its power for when you were desperate. Desperate, lonely, and longing to see your loved ones. Every time you looked at the pictures on your phone you would break down crying. You would allow yourself no more than two minutes to quickly scan through the images. Eyes longing to linger and memorize the sleeping features of your nephew and the wide smile of your Father. The candid shots from Christmas morning and the Halloween when your nephew dressed as a Fireman, only for the outfit to be a size too big, always made you smile. Your nephew would be 7 now, and you tried to not think about how upset he must have been that you were not there for his birthday. You blinked rapidly, fighting back the sting of tears. Silver started to line your eyes as you conjured the image of him sitting in front of cake getting ready to blow out the candles. Instead you forced yourself to replace the image of your nephew with that of Nyx. You had promised to bake cookies together with Elain before the family dinner tonight.

Your small group slowly trudged through the snow towards what appeared to be an entrance of a cave. Its mouth was jagged with sharp uneven rocks. Scanning over the area, you weren’t even sure that you would fit through the narrow opening. Hopefully you would not be going inside, not without protection anyway.

“Okay, so this will be a two-part experiment,” Bryce finally revealed before grasping you by the shoulders. “For the first I need you to stand right…here.” She then spun you around so you could peer inside. You weren’t entirely sure what she had planned, but you were certain that you were not going to like it. The darkness that loomed just on the other side of the cave mouth was unnatural, and every human instinct in your body was screaming at you to run away. Run far and run fast. This did not appear to be an official entrance to the Prison. Was it even guarded? It had to be. Otherwise whatever vial things lurked inside would be clawing at the chance to escape through what amounted to be no more than a crack.

A strong gust of wind blew past and a shiver ran down your spine. You chanced a look back at Bryce and Nesta. Both were whispering quietly between themselves. You turned back to examine the stone again. What was so special about this, and why did you-

Hands were suddenly at your back and shoved you hard. You screamed in surprise as your body fell forward having not braced itself for the unexpected impact. Your hands flew forward trying to catch the rock in order to stop yourself from falling right into the cave. However, the rock was slippery and a sharp edge slashed the palm of your right hand. You practically face planted the hard stone that made up the bottom of the cave. One of them had pushed you into the cave, somehow by passing any wards that should have kept unwanted guests out. The darkness came crashing down and panic raced through you. You whipped around and saw that the entrance had nearly tripled in size. The light from the entrance was disturbingly minimal compared to what it should have been given it appearing large enough to have either Cassian or Azriel easily walk through with their wings spread wide open. You picked yourself up from the cold ground as quickly as you could. The space in front of you appeared as if a veil hung from the top of the stone. Bryce and Nesta were on the other side, their eyes surprisingly filled with conflict. You carefully lifted your hand towards the veil. You expected pain or a force that would push you back or even solid wall. Anything that would have kept you locked inside. Instead, your hand passed right through completely unhindered. You hadn’t expected that, but the smile that spread across Bryce’s face indicated that she did. And whatever gamble she decided to make with this experiment paid off. You wanted to smack that smile off her face. Before you had a chance to really think on the intelligence of that decision, you marched right out of the cave and grabbed the collar of her coat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You screamed. “What if I couldn’t get out? More to the point I could have died!”

“But you didn’t,” She reasoned, her smile growing to show off her teeth. “And since I was right… It’s nice to formally meet you, cousin.” You felt your face scrunch up. You were aware of the theory that you may be related to someone who’s blood was attached to the sealed gate near the River House. But to have that be confirmed…No. This didn’t prove anything. As far as you could remember, only the High Lord of the Night Court could open the wards of the Prision. Unless…

“You and Ruhn are able to open the wards here too, aren’t you?” You let go of the redhead, hands dropping to your side. You knew that they had explored the island more than anyone in recent years during their visits to Prythian. “The three of us and Rhysand…we’re all descendants of Queen Theia and…” Bryce nodded.

“We can. Although I do have to admit that reason dictates that Ruhn and I shouldn’t be able to since the Prison was created by Silene. It should only be her direct descendants only with that ability. My brother and I do not fit that bill being the descendants of her sister that had remained on Midgard.”  You let out a breath.

“It probably goes without saying, but I would suggest that this information not get back to Rhysand,” Nesta spoke up.

“No shit,” You agreed.

“That means no telling Lucien,” Nesta gave you pointed look. Her steel eyes cold and filled with warning. You tried not to back away from the look, but the disapproval in it brought up a feeling of embarrassment and shame. You almost got the impression that she didn’t approve of your friendship with the courtier. You didn’t want to think on the reasons as to why, but you hazard a guess it had to do with Elain. You wondered if the middle sister was aware of the frequency of which you and her mate spent sharing a bed over the past year. Nothing inappropriate ever occurred, but the two of you had just grown used to falling asleep in the same room. 

“Then neither of you can tell your respective mates.”

“No shit,” Nesta threw your words back at you.

“Alright. This revelation stays between the three of us,” Bryce agreed. “But if you ever join us in Midgard we can always do DNA testing. It may help shed even more light onto how you got here.” You nodded, recognizing that it would take more energy that you had right now to convince Rhysand to allow you to travel to the other planet.

“So, what’s the second part of the experiment?” You asked changing the subject.

“The next part is where your phone is required. Do you have any picture of where you lived? Either your apartment or your parent’s house?” Bryce inquired. You nodded.

“I do, but I’m not sure how much battery life I have left,” You slowly pulled out your phone. “What happens if it doesn’t turn on?”

“Just try it first,” She encouraged. You pressed the power button and within a few seconds the screen lit up. The welcome message popped up and soon after your phone was ready for use. You quickly opened the Gallery App and began to search through the images for a picture of your parent’s home. You found a short video you had saved of your nephew dancing along to a TV show he was watching. While it wasn’t a picture, it was the best image of the entire living room. You handed the phone over to Bryce, who pressed play. At the sound of the music Nesta stepped closer and peered over Bryce’s shoulder.

“The picture moves?” She breathed. “How is that possible?”

“It’s a video. I’ll explain it more thoroughly later.” You offered. Bryce replayed the two-minute video before returning the device. The battery was at 15%. You quickly powered it down.

“Okay, I’ll need you to hold my hands and picture that living room in your mind,” She instructed. “I’m going to try and open a portal using the Horn.” She took your hands in hers and closed her eyes.

You swallowed, unsure if her plan would work. From what Bryce had mentioned to you previously, she had only ever been able to open portals to either people or places that she had known personally. Never to a place she was unfamiliar with. And your world was a place that you were certain magic did not work the same way as it did here. However, you were desperate to find out if the Horn would be successful. If this worked, you could go home. And while you would be unable to say your goodbyes, you attempted to justify to yourself that it would be best for all involved. Nyx was still young enough that you would be easily forgotten with little risk of abandonment issues popping up in later life. It would be the adult males in your life that would make leaving more difficult. For a brief moment you genuinely wondered if Ruhn would insist on going with you. He had recently started alluding to possibly staying in Prythian. If he ever did decide to stay, you knew- deep down you knew-that it would be for you. However, if he did follow you, life in your world would be incredibly difficult for him. He’d lose his magic and likely his immortality. Finding work would be nearly impossible without legal documentation and getting that would be expensive. Not to mention the plethora of questions that would arise when you returned after missing for a year, only to show up with a strange man on your arm. He’d come up with some rational as to why he should accompany you back. There had been no significant changes in Midgard with the Asteri, so Ruhn along with his sister and Hunt were all still considered fugitives. They returned to Midgard on occasion to continue their efforts in fighting the good fight, they always returned to Prythian when various authorities got too close to finding them. So perhaps the most convincing argument would be that you wouldn’t need him, but his friends and family sure as hell did. He was needed for when things did finally go south.

Settling on your decision, you closed your eyes and pictured your parent’s living room. Flashes of memories crossed your mind. Birthday parties, holidays, and sleepovers with friends. Anything and everything that allowed the image of the room to stay strong. Soon after you heard a faint whirring sound that reminded you of the opening of portals in Doctor Strange. You stopped breathing. Your ears listened for any familiar voices or sounds of your former home. The only sound was the wind as it continued to whip around you. You cracked open an eye and your heart sank. Before you and Bryce, was a black void. An open portal that led to nothing. No sound could be heard, nor light appeared to indicate that any life existed in the emptiness. You fought back the tears as your hope shattered.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” Nesta’s voice was soft. You couldn’t take your eyes off the portal as it slowly closed. Bryce squeezed your hands before letting go. You shook your head in an effort to fight off the negative thoughts that you knew were on their way. The attempt had failed, and you had gotten your hopes up. You knew that you shouldn’t have placed too much on to something that sounded too good to be true. You guessed that it would have been too easy, too simple, for her to open a portal. Nothing in your life could be that simple. 

“We should get back,” You finally looked at the other females. “Nyx should be finishing breakfast soon and we’ve got a full day of activities planned.” Nesta set her hand on your shoulder.

“Take a minute,” Her voice was surprisingly soothing.

“I don’t…”

“Yes, you do.” Bryce insisted. “We’ll go back when you’re ready.” The two females walked a few steps away from where you stood. Your eyes returned to the spot where the failed portal had closed. Your mind grew quiet as your vision lost focus. Tears burned at the back of your eyes. You tried to fight off the emotions as they spiraled down, scared that if you allowed yourself to feel them that it would take too long to come back up. You couldn’t afford to be in a fog. Not when you had to care for Nyx. Not when seeing him would just force the image of your own nephew, now fresh in your mind, to surge forward. You blinked rapidly, but that didn’t stop the liquid that brimmed your eyes from spilling over. The hopelessness crashed into you like a tidal wave. You wrapped your arms around yourself and sunk down onto your knees. Your chest felt like it cracked in two. The wind picked up, capturing your cries and carrying them away. You couldn’t see through the tears as they continued their relentless streams. You sobbed into the frozen mountain side. Your lungs began to burn and your vision tunneled. Your frozen limbs began to shake violently. Just as it all began, a warmth enveloped you. A warmth you felt you would recognize anywhere.

“It's okay, sweet girl,” Lucien held onto you tightly. “You’ve got time to cry. I’m right here.”

Next: Chapter 8

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Crossed out names wouldn't let me tag you

[sinnabarmoth]

Worthy of Devotion (8/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: Reader returns to the mainland.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 5k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (9)

Read on AO3

When you woke the next morning Rafayel was gone. The sheets next to you were long cold and you tried not to think of when in the night he had left. Upon the pillow was a ring with a note folded inside it.

My heart,

I can only imagine what you may feel when you wake and find this letter. Know this decision to leave first comes with a heavy heart and no shortage of tears. I know that if I were to stay to see you off I would not be able to let you go. Even now it is taking everything in me to not steal you from the bed and take you to Lemuria with me so we never have to part. But I know you have made your decision and you will not be moved from it. I know you will be a wonderful priestess and I will always be listening for your prayers.

If ever there is a time that you want me to come for you, all you need to do is call. I hope to see you one day soon, but I will wait however long it takes until you are ready to return. You are my heart and soul, and one day I will take you to Lemuria and make you my wife.

The sea will grant you a speedy delivery back to the mainland. Make change. Create something better than what you left. I love you. I miss you.

Yours and only yours,

Rafayel

P.S. You hadn’t taken a pearl yet so I hope this ring will suffice.

You read over the note again, heavy sobs echoing in the cold loneliness of the room. You picked up the ring, it was a simple gold band with a lone pure white pearl in the center. You slipped it on and took a moment to collect yourself and let the sorrow of his absence wash through and out of you. When you could finally breathe normally again you eased off the bed and shuffled your way into the bathing room.

Once you were clean and dressed you locked the door to the bedroom behind you and left the temple. The sky was a dismal grey but the sea was not choppy. Rafayel’s promise to give you a quick return home overshadowing whatever mood affected the weather so. You pushed the boat deeper into the water and hopped aboard, unfurling the sail to take you home. The moment you did a gale of wind blew in to fill it and you were off. As you watched the island get smaller and smaller behind you a loneliness you had never felt before grew larger and larger. Despite the fact that you were wearing his ring, the clothes he prepared you, and sat on a ship in the middle of his ocean, you felt as if Rafayel was so much farther from your grasp.

You knelt on the floor of the boat, feeling the breeze cut across your face. It smelled like him. You wanted to reach out, say something to him, but you had no idea what. Nothing felt right. Finally, as night descended you laid down to rest.

“Raf…” you spoke softly, “I…I miss you. I wish you would have been there this morning but I understand why you weren’t. I don’t think I would have been able to leave if you were there. Even now I want to turn around and go back but I know I need to return to civilization to fix things. I’ll try not to be away for too long. I love you. I pray you will continue to bless and protect me.”

The clouds above you started to dissipate to reveal a sky full of stars. You smiled, imagining his voice in your ear. Your prayer has been heard. Good night, my little human.

It took a couple days of straight sailing but luckily for you the sea was on your side and by the third morning you saw the shadow of the mainland on the horizon. Something swelled in you seeing the place you had called home again after such a long absence. You found the book that you had written with Rafayel and clutched it tight to your chest as you pulled into the pier.

The sight of your ship, obviously not made by mortal men gathered attention. The sail itself was made of some kind of gossamer Lemurian cloth that glimmered like the sun upon the water. So they must have seen you coming from a mile away.

By the time you got to the pier you saw a priestess racing their way down the beach alongside other curious villagers. No doubt word had traveled incredibly fast of your approach. You threw a rope to one of the dock hands and they tethered the boat for you.

The priestess that you had seen before was running up the dock, out of breath and red in the face. She was stunned to see you that was for sure. Her eyes raked you up and down in all your regalia. “You’re alive!” she said, pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank the gods! We had thought you perished on the sea when you left months ago for your pilgrimage! What’s happened to you? Where have you been?”

“I went to the Pearl Temple.” you said. “I found it in ruins, abandoned for hundreds of years. Would you care to explain that to me?”

“The temple…” her eyes went wide. “Oh…um…” she glanced around at the crowd around you. “Perhaps we should speak more about this at the temple.”

“You lied. You all lied about going to the temple. You built your faith on fabrications and left one of our most sacred temples to fall into shambles because of your fear.” you stared her down. “You and the others are all charlatans, false clergymen that have had no right to dictate the church of Rafayel.”

The crowd started to whisper as the first seeds of distrust were sown.

“My dear, there is too much excitement here. We should go--”

“We will go. But not because you think you can silence me. The people will know the truth and a new congregation will be erected to replace this sham that you and the others have perpetuated for generations.”

You could see the indignation growing on her face as people began to talk louder. Their words echoing all around you. Sham. Charlatans. Sacrilege. Blasphemy.

“You must not say such things.” she pressed, her teeth gritted. “Obviously your trip has left you feeling weary and not in your right mind. We should go back to the temple now.”

“I have never been more sane of mind.” you stepped onto a crate, giving yourself a better vantage point for the others to see and hear you. “When I left I was caught in a storm that was so fierce I was thrown from my vessel and into the sea. My boat was destroyed and I nearly drowned. My life was saved by the Sea God Rafayel, he came to me and delivered me to the Pearl Temple and told me that it had been abandoned for hundreds of years.”

Your voice rang loud for all to hear. There were gasps and whispers and some skeptical looks. “I have spent the last several months repairing the temple and chronicling this,” you held the book up. “The truth of the Sea Gods, penned from the mouth of Rafayel himself.”

“You are making a lot of fantastical claims.” the priestess was trying desperately to regain control. “We all know your story, my dear. You have always been blessed by the ocean but to say that His Radiance, the God of the Seas himself came to you and told you all these things seems a little far-fetched. Even for someone of my faith.”

“He has named me his high priestess. He adorned me with these clothes, this ring, and this boat. I carry the words he spoke to me. What more proof do you require?”

“Then if you have such a connection, call upon him. Let us see how His Radiance answers you.”

You didn’t bother fighting back the smile on your face. “Of course.”

You looked out at the ocean. “Rafayel,” you spoke softly, “Can you send me a little storm?”

A breeze blew across the docks. Suddenly, dark clouds began to roll in impossibly quick, blotting out the bright sun. Claps of thunder roared in the sky and the ocean went from serene to turbulent in a matter of seconds. Rain poured from the sky in a torrent and you turned your face to it. The tears you shed thankfully hidden in the downpour.

There were cheers and shouts as people exclaimed that you had been blessed with a direct line to the Sea God. The priestess looked up at you, horror written across her face as she realized exactly what she was dealing with now. “Now we can return to the temple.” you said. “There is much I need to discuss with the others about the lies you have all told.”

The meeting was a tense one as you battled it out with the other priests and priestesses. They had numbers on you and in any other circumstance that would have been enough. But with every act of intimidation you sent a silent prayer to Rafayel and another crack of thunder shook the temple.

The torrent of rain had yet to abate in the back of your mind you wanted to weep knowing that this was what he had been holding out on since the moment you left. This was not just to help you, it was his sorrow beating down on the windows.

When it became apparent that you not only had met Rafayel but had forged some strong connection to him there was little the others could do. They feared Rafayel’s wrath too much to go against his direct wishes. You knew their fear was not what he wanted but you needed to get yourself into the appropriate position of power to implement the changes needed.

Your things were brought to a new room, one meant for the highest of priests and priestesses. It was not as grand as Rafayel’s room back at the Pearl Temple but it was far better than the quarters you had lived in before. What was even better was that it looked right out at the ocean.

When you were finally alone you collapsed onto the bed, taking the letter Rafayel had written to you out and read it over again and again. This was the start. In your hopeful mind you wanted to believe it would take no time at all to create the congregation Rafayel wanted. But you knew such a thing would take time and patience. There was no telling when you’d return but you knew you would.

“It’s starting.” you whispered to the air. “Each day from now on is another day closer to us seeing each other again. I love you.”

The first couple of days were the hardest. Getting used to not seeing Rafayel when you spent every day with him before was a task. You found yourself constantly waiting for him to show up and bother you. The most you heard from him were gestures you could only feel in your bones came from him. A breeze that tousled your hair and kissed your cheeks, a wave crashing along the beach that was a little too sudden to be coincidence, that sort of thing.

Gradually the days turned into weeks which turned into months. You spent most of your days fighting back against the elders of the temple as they tried to tell you what it is they had been taught. You did not think that they would rally against the actual word of their god so hard. You were upheaving the entire religion and basically correcting every practice that people had thought was set in stone. It may have been set in stone but you were wielding the hammer. You had given up being with Rafayel to make this religion work and you’d be damned if they took that sacrifice from you.

Your power, you began to realize, was in the younger crowd as more and more followers started to join and listen to what you had to say. You knew part of their devotion to study was born from fascination, not so much with Rafayel but with you. In the months since your return you had heard all sorts of rumors pertaining to yourself and what exactly had happened at the Pearl Temple that intertwined you with Rafayel so intimately.

It was no one else’s business what had happened. They did not need to know that the ring on your finger was not just some adornment given to you by Rafayel. It was a promise. You were his priestess right now but one day you would be his bride.

There were some nights as you laid in your bed, the heartache and loneliness built up. Memories of your night with Rafayel came back to you. How loved you had felt in his embrace. How desired.

Your hand would reach between your legs, imagining it was him instead. His name left your lips in a whimper over and over as you pushed yourself to release. In those moments the wind would buffet the walls of the temple and you knew he could hear you. The sea would churn and swell and only settled when you yourself had reached your release once again.

The first time it happened you had walked to the dining room where the others were preparing to eat breakfast. You had poured yourself something to drink when one of the new followers had come to talk to you.

“Did you hear the wind last night? I thought the temple was going to blow away.” they said and you nearly choked on your drink. “Are you alright?” they patted your back.

“Ah, yes, I’m fine.” you cleared your throat. “Oh uh yeah, I didn’t notice any wind.”

“Oh, so you do not think that Rafayel is upset with us for some reason?”

Your face burned. “No. Believe it or not but not every force of nature pertains to Rafayel.” The fact that the small storm last night did was none of their business though.

You told Rafayel about the incident during your evening prayer and though you couldn’t see him you knew he had to have been laughing. You missed his laugh.

It was a surprise when you realized the time had passed and marked a full year since you left the Pearl Temple. The only reason you may have realized is because a terrible hurricane swept in from off the ocean and devastated the city. You could feel what the hurricane truly was though. Rafayel was out there somewhere mourning.

One year and you had heard nothing but winds and waves from him. One year since you had made love to him and bonded with him. Had that much time truly passed? It was hard to believe. Once you realized though you mourned as well.

“Raf,” you whispered, “I miss you too.”

Another monstrous wave flooded over the beach and into the city. “But I need you to calm your emotions. The city will end up underwater if you don’t stop.”

The storm seemed to stutter but continued. You sighed. “My Rafayel, please, I am here with you. I am right here. We are never far apart, not so long as you can hear my prayers. This separation will not be forever. Hopefully one day soon I can call on you to bring me home. But it will take longer if I have to also help rebuild the city.”

The storm finally started to gentle, the waves receded. The rain still poured and winds still bent the trees but the worst of it had ended. You continued to pray to him, talking endlessly about whatever you could think of until your eyes grew heavy and you fell asleep. When you woke in the morning the sky was clear again.

The date of the hurricane was not missed by the elders that still fought back against your changes. They tried to poison the minds of the younger followers by saying that the hurricane was a terrible and divine punishment for your return.

“It would be best for the city if you were to return to the sea where His Radiance clearly wants you to be.” they had said, jabbing a weathered finger in your face.

“You are right, Rafayel does want me back in the ocean.” you said. “But the storm was not a punishment. It was his mourning. He is well now. I know it.”

“Mourning.” they scoffed.

A righteous anger bubbled under your skin at their dismissal. “You do not get to say what it is Rafayel feels. You do not know him. You could know who he truly is if you would listen to me but you would rather blasphemy him with your false worship.”

“How dare you!” they shouted, “I have been His Radiance’s loyal follower for fifty years! I know--”

“Fifty years ago the Sea God was not the one we know now. You would know that if you listened. You would know it is a title passed down through the Lemurians and that Rafayel is the latest in a long line of Sea Gods. So do not speak to me of what you know. You know nothing. You are worse than an ignorant child, because at least a child can be taught. You are stuck in your ways and it has no place in this clergy. If you do not approve of how I, Rafayel’s personally appointed High Priestess, am running things then you are more than free to leave.”

The hall had gone silent. The elder priest looked around for support but the sudden command and power you presented kept them from interfering.

You raised your voice so the congregation could hear you clearly. “Let it be known that I gave you more than enough time to worship our god properly, to learn, to do better. And you have chosen to remain ignorant and wrong. So it is with a heavy heart that I strip you of your title as priest and all power of church you held is dismissed. You may have your time to gather your things and will be expected to be out of the temple by sunrise tomorrow. Do you understand?”

The former priest bit his lip and nodded.

You hated having to be so coarse but a year had passed and you were scrambling for purchase. It would be a decade or more before you saw Rafayel again if you didn’t start being more authoritative. Instances like these could not go ignored any longer. Either they listened and they learned and they worshiped out of love and a desire to serve or they had no place in your congregation. A flower cannot bloom if it is choked by weeds.

With your authority better established and the new followers now finally starting to overtake the number of old ones you were making larger strides. A moment of great pride was when you were able to send some of your new acolytes to journey to the Pearl Temple themselves.

You had walked down to the ocean with them and sent up a prayer. “Raf, I’m sending some of your new followers to the temple. Make sure they make it there safe, please.”

The tide lapped around you and when you looked down a seashell had washed up between your feet. You picked it up and held it close. You turned to the others with a wide smile. “He’s promised you a safe journey. You should make it to the temple with no issue.”

You watched as they took off in their boat. A new generation of priests and priestesses in the making. You did not leave until their boat had disappeared over the horizon. You knelt down into the waves so the water lapped around your waist. “Not too much longer now. These are good kids I’m sending. I know they will make good priests for you. Soon enough this city won’t need me anymore. I’ll be able to come home soon.”

The water crashed around you and the pull back into the ocean was a little stronger, as if it was trying to drag you in with it. You laughed. “Soon. I promise. Then I can whip your butt at Jumping Shrimp for the rest of our lives.”

A larger wave swelled and crashed over you, drenching you completely. “Don’t take it out on me because you stink at it. Maybe this time apart is good. It’ll give you a chance to actually practice and hopefully get better. I could use a challenge for once.”

Another wave crashed over you. “You ass. You’re so lucky I love you.”

Another year passed. You sent more and more people out to the Pearl Temple when you thought they were ready. They’d come back in a week or two having done the necessary upkeep and studied. Every so often you heard them talking about how they were sure they saw a Lemurian swimming around the coast of the island. They had always kept a distance but they were sure they had seen them.

It may have been Rafayel or it could have possibly been someone else. Maybe he was stopping by to check on the new faces. Maybe he was searching for you. Either way, you were happy to hear the news each time it happened.

With the second anniversary there was another hurricane. It was not as bad as the last but you still had to pray through the night. It helped you just as much as it seemed to help Rafayel. Though you were far apart you were never gone.

You spent the next year training the new priests and priestesses. You had found one of great faith that you decided to groom into being your successor when you finally stepped down as high priestess. She was smart and loyal and held the leadership and conviction to be able to lead this clergy.

Before you knew it, three years had passed since that fateful day you left the Pearl Temple. Three years…it felt like a lifetime. And as you stared out at the congregation that you had built, people who loved Rafayel and wanted to worship him out of desire and not fear, it hit you. You had done it. Three years of continuous work and this was the result. People you knew. People you trusted. A religion you knew Rafayel would be proud to be the head of.

“I’m…I’m done.” you stared down at your ring and a giddiness usually reserved for small children shot through you. “Everything has been set right again. I can go home.”

You had run to the others the moment you realized. They stopped and stared as you skidded to a stop in front of them in the central hall of the temple. “Everyone! I have an announcement!” you called for them. “Please. Everyone listen carefully.”

They gave you their undivided attention, curious as to what news you could possibly have. “I have decided that after three wonderful years of being your high priestess, I will be abdicating my position to my protege effective immediately.”

There was an eruption of noise as questions were hurled at you. You heard others begging you not to do this. What were they to do if you were not there to lead them?

“I understand that this is a shock so I will be honest with you all.” you quieted them back down. “My position was always meant to be a temporary one. As much as I love you all, I made a promise three years ago that I still need to keep. And now that I have seen the glorious fruit of my labors I feel safe leaving this congregation in your hands. I know you will all make me proud.”

Your protege approached, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you sure? What if we aren’t as ready as you think?”

You smiled, hugging her close. “You are. You’re nervous I know, but you will do beautifully.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m going home.” your smile nearly cracked your face in two. “I’m returning to someone I love and who I have been waiting a long time to be with again.”

“Who? Who is more important than Rafayel?” one of the others asked.

“No one. Which is why I need to go back to him.”

Realization started to dawn in some of their eyes. Others you could tell were still confused. You didn’t want to make a big fuss about it but your brothers and sisters all but demanded to send you off properly.

Word spread fast about your departure from the church. While they planned their farewell celebration you packed your things. If it was up to you you would have run down to the sea that very second but you knew the others needed this goodbye so you kept yourself on land for another night. You hardly slept that night, too excited for morning to come.

The moment the sun started to rise you were out of bed, the bare essentials you wanted to keep secured in a bag, and you sped down to the beach. The entire city seemed to be there. Watching and waiting to see what you were going to do. You really didn’t want to make such a big ado about this but you couldn’t deny you were looking forward to seeing their reactions.

You turned to your protege and did the necessary rituals of passing on the role of high priestess to her. You turned and gave the others you had taught one final embrace and then turned back towards the ocean. You stepped into the sea, the water rushing over your feet and swirling around your ankles.

“Rafayel,” you said, your voice light with joy, “I’m done. I want to come home now. Can you come and get me?”

The sea had gone still for a moment before the tide picked back up. You clutched your bag tightly as several long silent minutes went by. You could hear the villagers behind you talking, wondering what it is they were waiting for.

It was someone else that pointed out the large wave growing on the horizon. “What is that?” they sounded panicked, “What have you done?”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. Your whole body was buzzing as the wave got closer and closer before it suddenly disappeared about two miles out from shore. Then something emerged from the water, towering and giant and beautiful. Gods above he was so dramatic.

The villagers behind you were clamoring and sputtering as they saw him emerge, his smile brighter than the sun and you knew he saw you. There was a flash of light as he dove back down into the water. He was back to his normal form and rushing forward through the water towards you. You couldn’t keep still a second longer and ran to him, the water sloshing up to your waist as you threw yourself into his arms.

He caught you easily and held you tight to his chest.

“Your prayer has been heard.” his voice was like music to your ears. “Finally. I have missed you so much, cor meum.”

“I missed you too.”  you were crying and you didn’t think you’d be able to stop. “Sorry it took so long.”

He pulled back slightly to look in your eyes. “A lifetime with you is more than worth the wait.”

Your hands wove into his hair and pulled him forward, planting your mouth on his in a kiss that was long overdue. After so long it felt as if a part of you had finally been returned. Everything about him was exactly as you had remembered it. But he was a memory no longer. He was here and he was warm in your arms.

It wasn’t until you finally pulled back to breathe that you remembered the entire city was standing on the beach behind you, watching you kiss a god. Your eyes went wide and you hid your face in his shoulder. “Gods above, I forgot they were there for a second.”

Rafayel chuckled. He pressed another kiss to your head and hoisted you up off your feet and into his arms. You both turned to look at the others who had surged forward to watch the spectacle. Rafayel cleared his throat and raised his chin to motion he was going to speak to them. They all instantly fell silent.

“Hello. I want to thank you all for watching over my bride. I’m going to be taking her home now though.” he turned back to you. “Think that will suffice?”

“It will certainly be a story to tell.” you gave one last look to everyone and raised your hand in farewell. “Now let’s go home.”

With that he gave you one more kiss and you returned to the ocean for good.

[metalmonki]

Objection!

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

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The day had finally come. I had successfully graduated Harvard Law. My Mum, Dad, brother Sonny and sisters Bella, Teresa and Gina had made the trip out of Staten Island to witness the graduation. The youngest of the Carisi clan, I choose to follow Sonny into the criminal prosecution career track. Sonny had recently transferred to the Elite Manhattan Special Victims Unit and was also studying at Fordham Law ‘to make myself a better detective’ he had said. Sonny and I, despite our 11-year age gap, were completely inseparable. He had been the one who got the rest of our family together to be here today. Sonny is the whole reason I was graduating today. He had encouraged me even after Mum and Dad had voiced their disappointment at my choice.

I had barely made it off the stage when Sonny had scooped me up in his arms and began spinning us around. He had the worlds biggest smile on his face and repeated over and over again how proud he was of me. Our parents and sisters soon joined us.

“I’m going to cook a big feast tonight just for you” Mom smiled.

“You always cook a big feast, that’s every meal for you” Dad scoffed.

“Oh shush you cranky old man” Mum swatted at him with open hands.

We all laughed at the pair and walked off to the cars. We had a long drive ahead of us back to Staten Island. After dinner I would then have to drive back into Manhattan with Sonny. I had come here with Sonny yesterday from his apartment in Manhattan and had no choice but to go back there with him tonight. Now I had graduated I had no clue what I was suppose to do. I had been applying for positions in almost every law firm in New York with no luck. I’d even applied for the DA’s office with no success. I knew Sonny would let me live with him for however long it took for me to find my feet. He had insisted on it in fact when I’d moved back to New York last month. This had been Mum and Dads complaint. I would waste my time on a piece of paper that would lead me nowhere. I’d even put in an extra two years on a masters degree just to increase my chances.

“Hay kiddo is everything okay?” Sonny spoke up “You’ve been silent for the last 45 minutes and you look worried”

“Maybe Mum and Dad were right” Was all I could get out.

“About what? Don’t tell me your doubting yourself now” Sonny smiled over at me.

“I spent the whole month applying for positions with no luck, all I’ve managed is a minimum wage bodega job. I can’t rely on you forever Sonny, you have your own life, the woman at work you said you fancy, while I just wasted six years to get a piece of paper that’s turning out to be useless. I wanted to be up there with the greats like Alexander Cabot and Rafael Barba” I sighed picking at my nails.

“Y/N Carisi always worrying” Sonny chuckled “Give it time you’ll get something soon; you don’t need to rush”

“I’m not trying to rush I just don’t like not knowing” I threw my hands up.

But wait I did. For 9 months I applied for any law jobs that came up. I worked my ass off at the bodega, saving every penny I could to get out of Sonny’s flat. Then one day it happened. I had been busy cooking dinner, a simple chicken alfredo, when Sonny basically smashed his way through the door. I hadn’t expected him home until much later. I knew they were having trouble catching the Central Park Strangler as the papers had dubbed him. A horrid man who would stalk lone women in central park, strangle and rape them. Sonny had said he was escalating an attack every night, he hadn’t killed anyone yet but Sonny was sure he would soon. He had made me promise not to leave the flat alone at night until they got the guy. He had left DNA at every scene so as soon as they got him he was going away for life. No chance of a plea bargain, no way to weasel out of it. Sonny had a huge smile on his face as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m guessing by the smile on your face you caught your guy? That or you finally grew a pair and asked Amanda out and she said yes” I chuckled.

“Yes, well no, but yes” Sonny stumbled over his words while he hung his coat up and took his shoes off.

“Well which is it?” I laughed.

“We caught the guy, Barba had him shipped to rikers an hour ago” Sonny put his brief case on the bench and dug through it producing a manila envelope. “I also got this for you” he handed the envelope to me. 

I wiped my hands off on my apron and took the envelope. I turned it over in my hands taking note of the District Attorneys office logo in the corner. I disregarded it as just being an envelope Sonny had handy. I turned the envelope over once more and unwound the string keeping it closed. Inside was a stack of paperwork maybe 30 pages thick. Written on top of the first sheet in bold letters were the words OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. I looked up shocked at Sonny before looking back at the papers. We are pleased to offer you a position as an assistant to ADA Rafael Barba at the New York District  Attorney Office.

“Oh Sonny this is amazing thank you”  I pulled him into a hug.

“It was nothing I just called in a favour when I heard Barba needed some extra help”  Sonny chuckled “All you need to do is fill in the forms and drop them off to Barba tomorrow. He says he’ll in his office from 3 onward”.

“I’ll fill them in first thing but for now lets eat!”.

“Oh you mean the food that’s burning on the stove?” Sonny chuckled.

“Shit!” I spun back to the stove but it was pointless the chicken had already started turning black and the pasta was almost boiled dry.

“I’ll order out and you can trying to salvage my pot and pan” Sonny laughed walking off phone in hand.

[burstfoot]

Figured I'd make a post outlining Arknights' auxiliary material for those who want to see more of the universe and aren't aware of all that's out there! ANIMATION Arknights Prelude To Dawn (S1) and Perish in Frost (S2, currently airing): [Crunchyroll]

A straight up adapation of the main story, up through Chapter 0 to Chapter 6! It's much more fast-paced than the story, so I wouldn't use it to replace actually reading it, but it's very cool to see some of these scenes in full animation. Lee's Detective Agency: (Youtube)

A mini-series animated in a chibi-style with a comedic tone focused on the adventures of the Kuroblood-illustrated Lee's Detective Agency! Distributed by Crunchyroll globally, but entirely free to watch.

Closure's Secret Files: (Youtube)

A cut-out styled series of shorts hosted by Closure which outlines a lot of the game's basic mechanics!

Holy Knight Light: [Youtube]

A short Youtube OVA focusing around Penguin Logistics delivering a package, celebrating Arknights' first anniversary!

[Upcoming]: Kay's Daily Doodles: (Twitter Annoucement)

Another free youtube mini-series that starts airing December 1st, focused around Ceobe! Here's some additional animations! Each event usually also has a 15 second 2D animated preview of the event, but there's so many of those that I can't list them all. Official Anniversary Event 3D Animations: Lone Trail Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow Il Siracusano Ideal City Stultifera Navis Invitation To Wine Near Light Dossoles Holiday Under Tides Bonus 3D Animated Shorts: Legend of Chongyue Arknights Special - IL Siracusano Lo Scontro Youtube Shorts: Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 1 Ch'en and Lin's Watermelon Splitting Game Part 2 Amiya's Siracusan Food Guide Part 1 Amiya's Siracusano Food Guide Part 2

Comics, Manga, Manhua

Officially Translated Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Rhine Lab: (Offical Website)

A canon manhua centered around the circumstances that lead to Silence falling out with Saria and joining Rhodes Island with Ifrit, as well as Ifrit's attempt to save a dying infected stowaway on the landship. Essential reading for understanding the Rhine Lab storyline and characters - read it right after Mansfield! One of the characters, Darya, is mentioned in both Ifrit's module and briefly in Lone Trail.

Rhodes Island's Records of Originium: Blacksteel: (Official Source)

A short story focusing on the lives of the Blacksteel operators aboard the landship. While it often gets overshadowed by the Rhine Lab manga which is bigger in scope, this is a great read especially if you're interested in Franka or Liskarm.

Rhodes Kitchen -TIDBITS-: (Official Source)

An anthology story related to the cuisine that's important to a variety of operators. While it might seem unassuming, the art is gorgeous and it's really well-written. I particularly recommend the Goldenglow (Chapter 4) and Rosa (Chapter 5) chapters.

Unofficially Translated

Arknights Comic Anthology: (Mangadex)

As the title says, a series of non-canon anthology stories regarding the cast of Rhodes' Island! Note that the link provided only has complete translations up to Volume 4 (and Vol. 4 is missing Ch. 7), and most of the chapters avaliable after that point were MTL'd, so I can't vouch for their accuracy. Chapters I'd recommend are: Volume 1: Chapter 12 (focused on Myrrh trying to improve her medicine), Chapter 14 (focused on Saria and Silence trying to put apart their differences to take Ifrit on vacation, afaik the only place where they are directly referred to as her "moms") Volume 2: Chapter 1 (Manticore tries to make friends), Chapter 3 (The LGD gets drunk), Chapter 11 (Texlapp and Mosexu yuribait), Ch. 13 (Magallan tries to find a pet), Chapter 16 (Ethan spies on the interior lives of Rhodes operators) Volume 3: Chapter 6 (Snowsant, Ifrit, Nian and Shaw are forced to make friends), Chapter 7 (Gummy flashes back to Chernobog), Chapter 10 (FEater and Shaw yuribait), Chapter 13 (Blackout on the landship, as well as Ayerscarpe and Leonhardt yaoibait)

Volume 4: Chapter 4 (Thorns tries to make friends with Weedy [this one is my favourite]), Chapter 6 (Tomimi tail spankings), Chapter 9 (Elysium helps Frostleaf get along with Dur-Nar) Volume 6: Ch. 1 (Whisperain opens up to others) [this one isn't MTL'd afaik]

123 Rhodes Island: (Mangadex)

A series of non-canon gag 4komas! Many of the games' offical stickers are done in this series' art style.

Arknights: Operators!: (Mangadex)

A compilation of 4komas posted on the official ArknightsJP twitter account! Thank you to @sleepywoodscans for their work on translating these, please show them some love!!

[Edit: For clarities sake, the only stuff here that has used MTL is later chapters of the Comic Anthology! Sleepywoodscans’ work on Operators! is all done by hand (they’re a native Japanese speaker). Again, I really appreciate their work!]

Arknights: A1 Operations Preparation Detachment: (Mangadex)

Part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focusing on Fang, Kroos and Beagle, and a catastrophe striking the Columbian city of Tkaronto. Unfortunately, only translated up to Chapter 6, but one of the characters (Elba) has a brief cameo in Light Sparks in Darkness! Edit: Chapter 7 has been translated by @pooce-art, and they're working on Chapter 8!

Angelina: Sketches of THIS Messenger's Journey: (Mangadex)

Also published as part of the Terra Historicus website and not yet officially translated, focuses on the adventures of Angelina travelling across Terra as a Messenger! Recent chapters relate to the upcoming Sami event & IS4, as well as the upcoming So Long, Adele.

Prelude Suite: Unrestrained Play: (Wiki)

Unfortunately, I can't find a full translation for this one - an epilogue to Hortus De Esscapismo focusing on Arturia's background. Of course, major spoilers for Hortus apply - if you can find a full translation yourself.

As well, an upcoming manhua focused on the Break the Ice cast was annouced during the 4.5 Anniversary stream. As far as I'm aware, chapters have not begun releasing yet!

Other:

Arknights Ambience Synesthesia: (Youtube)

A series of concerts (3 so far), focusing around Arknights' music! A live performance has been done every year, with skins released in-game for the concert's theme & 3D animations produced featuring the skin's cast in 2022 and 2023.

Monster Siren Records: (Spotify) (Official Website)

Arknights' official (and-in-universe) record label publishing game OSTs, themes for almost every 6 star operator that releases, and occasional bonus songs.

Arknights: Endfield: (Twitter)

An upcoming 3D action gacha game from Hypergryph, set in the far future of Arknights' universe on another planet. Currently in closed beta testing for their CN servers!

Arknights: Nomad City: The Founders: (Youtube)

A to-be-released CN Arknights board game! Unclear of if it will ever be translated or released globally, unfortunately...

Terra: A Journey: (Wiki)

An upcoming CN lore book focused on the intricate details of Terra's worldbuilding. As well, unclear if it will be translated or released globally.

UNOFFICIAL:

Some fandom-developed tools that might be of use to you are the Arknights Terra Wiki - which just transferred from FANDOM to wiki.gg, and has very detailed information on both game mechanics and world-lore.

As well, the Arknights Story Reader can help you catch up on stuff you don't want to or can't read in game!

Finally, Aceship's Toolbox provides access to a variety of tools, including a levelling calculator, a calculator to ensure the best recruitments, and all the CGs, backgrounds and character sprites that are avaliable in-game.

Conclusion:

Thank you for reading! I hope this provided some new information to you or at least provides an easy reference resource in the future. There's a lot to check out even outside of the game, and I hope you find some stuff you enjoy!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Thirty

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Angst.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.7k

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You follow Shanks through the winding streets, your heart pounding in your chest. While he holds your hand tightly, your other is pressed against your throbbing abdomen which clearly doesn't appreciate your efforts to flee. The harbor looms ahead, the Red Force standing tall against the dark water. The ship's silhouette is a beacon of hope, a promise of safety and escape. Shanks pulls you closer as you both near the docks, his grip firm and reassuring.

The crew is already in motion, preparing for departure. Benn spots you first, your white nightgown a beacon in the night, his eyes widening with relief. “Captain!” he calls out, signaling the others.

Shanks leads you up the gangplank, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of pursuit. The familiar creak of the wooden deck beneath your feet brings a rush of comfort. You are home—no, the red force isn't your home, its just a place you temporarily live.

"Aria," Benn says, his voice thick with concern as he approaches. "You alright?"

You manage a weak smile, nodding despite the lingering pain. “I’ll be fine,” you reply, leaning heavily on Shanks for support.

“Get us ready to sail!” Shanks barks, his voice carrying over the deck. The crew are springing into action before he even finishes his sentence.

You catch sight of Yumi, safely bundled in a blanket and being comforted by Hongo. Relief washes over you at the sight of her unharmed. A huge sigh of relief escape your lips and you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

As the Red Force pulls away from the harbor, Shanks guides you to a quiet corner near the stern, where you can rest but in view of the pirates still high on the adrenalin of the night. He kneels beside you, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and anger. “What did they do to you?” he asks softly, his fingers gently brushing your injured lip.

You sit on the deck, the cool night air brushing against your bruised skin. Shanks’ touch is gentle, his eyes searching yours for answers.

“Collins didn’t appreciate me comparing him to you,” you murmur, forcing a weak smile. “Guess he didn’t like being told he’s not even a quarter of the man you are? His reaction was quite violent.”

Shanks chuckles, a low, comforting sound. But his eyes betray his concern. He knows you're deflecting, avoiding the deeper pain and fear that gnaw at you.

Around you, the crew goes about their tasks, but their glances keep flicking your way. They notice how quiet you are, how you're hobbling around like an old woman instead of the spirited young lady they’ve come to know.

Shanks’ gaze zeroes in on your neck and ears. “Your necklace,” he says softly, a hint of anger in his voice. “And your earring.”

You touch the lone earring still hanging from your ear and shrug. “Collins…he took them.”

Shanks' jaw tightens. His hand drops from your face to rest on your shoulder instead. “You need to rest,” he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Both of you.”

Yumi clings to Hongo’s leg, her eyes wide with exhaustion and lingering fear. You nod in agreement, knowing he's right even though every fiber of your being screams against showing weakness.

The crew watches as Shanks helps you to your feet, his arm steadying you as you limp towards the cabin. Each step sends jolts of pain through your body, but you bite back any sound that might escape your lips.

“Come on, Yumi,” Shanks says gently, extending a hand to the little girl. "Let's get Aria to bed."

She takes it immediately, her small fingers wrapping around his larger ones. As Shanks leads you both inside, Benn exchanges a look with the other pirates—a silent acknowledgment of the storm brewing beneath their captain's calm exterior.

You guide Yumi around the familiar cabin, her small hand clutching yours tightly. The lantern’s soft glow casts warm shadows across the room, giving it an almost cozy feel despite the tension hanging in the air. You kneel beside her, checking her wrist once more, ensuring the cast isn’t damaged.

“Does it still hurt?” you ask, your voice gentle.

Yumi shakes her head, her eyes wide and trusting. “No, Miss Aria. It’s better now.”

You smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Good girl,” you say softly. “Now let’s get you to bed.”

You help Yumi climb into the bed and pick at the quilt. The sheets are cool against your fingers as you tuck them around her, making sure she’s snug and comfortable. She looks up at you with those innocent eyes that have seen far too much in such a short time.

“Miss Aria,” she whispers, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“Yes, Yumi?”

“Are you gonna tell Captain Shanks about the baby?”

The question hits you like a punch to the gut. Your hands freeze on the blanket, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t realize how much she’d understood or overheard. Your mind races as you try to find the right words.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting back tears. You take a deep breath, forcing a calm smile as you look at Yumi. “There’s no point in telling him, Yumi,” you say softly. “Neither of us knew about it in the first place, and now it’s gone.”

Yumi’s eyes fill with confusion and sadness, but she nods slowly. You can see she’s trying to understand, to make sense of the adult world that has so suddenly invaded her life.

“It’s really for the best,” you continue, smoothing her hair gently. “I don’t have a place in the world, or a home. Bringing a child into that wouldn’t have been fair.”

She reaches out and takes your hand, her tiny fingers squeezing yours. “But you have us,” she whispers.

Your heart aches at her words, and you blink back tears. “Yes,” you agree, your voice trembling slightly. “I have you all. And that means everything to me.”

You lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. She smiles sleepily and closes her eyes, her grip on your hand loosening as she drifts off to sleep.

You sit there for a moment longer, watching her breathe evenly, the rise and fall of her chest soothing your frayed nerves. The reality of what you’ve lost and what could have been weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you push it aside. There’s no room for regret or what-ifs in your current world. Not anymore.

Shanks stands outside the cabin door, his breath caught in his throat. He had come to check on you and little Yumi, to make sure you were settling in for the night. Instead, he overhears your hushed conversation with Yumi, each word a dagger to his heart.

He hears you speak of the baby—your baby—and the reality of what you've endured crashes over him like a tidal wave. The pain in your voice is palpable, and it tears at him in ways he didn’t know were possible. Especially when you say you have no place in the world, or a home. His chest tightens, and he has to fight to keep his emotions in check.

Quietly, he steps away from the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. He needs air, space to think, to process this revelation. The ship rocks gently beneath him as he makes his way to the main deck where some of his crew are gathered.

Benn is there, leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his fingers. When he sees Shanks approaching, concern flickers in his eyes.

"Captain," Benn says, straightening up. "What's going on?"

Shanks runs his hand through his red hair, struggling to find the words. “Aria... she was pregnant,” he begins, his voice unsteady.

The crew falls silent, all eyes turning to him. He can see their shock mirrored in their expressions.

“And... she miscarried,” Shanks continues, each word feeling like it’s being dragged out of him. “I don't know how, but I know it's because of Collins.”

Benn Beckman, always the pillar of strength, seems momentarily unmoored. His cigarette falls from his lips, and he stands there, fists clenching and unclenching as the reality of Shanks' words sink in. "We need to end this," he says, his voice a low growl.

Hongo, usually calm and collected, now has a hardened look upon his face as his jaw clenches. Now he knew why you were limping about.

Lucky Roux, normally the heart of the crew with his jovial nature, has a rare look of cold fury on his face. "That bastard has no idea what's coming for him," he mutters. "We'll make sure he regrets ever laying a hand on her."

Yasopp, who had been leaning against the mast, straightens up, his eyes narrowing. "I've got a bullet with his name on it," he says darkly. "He'll never see it coming."

Monster, the gentle giant, lets out a low, menacing growl. "He won't get away with this," he rumbles. "I'll rip his face off for her."

Bonk Punch, always ready for a fight, slams his fist into his palm, the sound echoing across the deck. "We'll crush him," he says simply, his eyes burning with intensity. "He'll pay for what he's done."

Limejuice, bleeding from the finger he’d cut when Shanks had dropped the news, doesn't even seem to notice the wound. "He won't escape," he says, his voice trembling with rage. "We'll hunt him down, and we'll make him suffer."

Gab, the usually quiet and composed member, shakes his head in disbelief. "How could he do something so cruel?" he murmurs, his voice filled with sorrow and anger.

Benn steps closer, his eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and concern. “What do we do now, Captain?”

Shanks takes a deep breath, the salty sea air filling his lungs. “We get Yumi back home,” he says firmly before struggling to say his next words. He knows none of them will want to hear it. He, doesn’t want to speak it!“And then we focus on getting Aria back on her feet. Dealing with Collins will have to wait.”

You lie in bed, the gentle rocking of the Red Force beneath you doing little to soothe the turmoil in your mind. The throb in your abdomen is a constant reminder of what you’ve lost, of what could have been. You stare at the ceiling, the events of the past few days replaying over and over in your mind.

Yumi’s soft breathing beside you is a small comfort. She’s safe, thanks to Shanks and his crew. But safety feels fragile, like it could be shattered at any moment by the Commodore’s relentless pursuit. Your hand rubs your tired eyes and you shift your head to look at the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon.

You hadn't slept a wink.

Yumi stirs beside you, her small form shifting under the blankets. You brush a gentle hand through her hair, murmuring a soft greeting as her eyes flutter open. “Good morning, Yumi.”

She yawns, stretching her tiny arms before blinking up at you. “Morning, Miss Aria.”

Before you can say anything more, there’s a knock at the door. You glance over, your heart skipping a beat when Hongo steps inside carrying a tray laden with breakfast. His eyes flicker to you and Yumi, assessing the situation with his usual calm demeanor.

“Morning,” Hongo says, setting the tray down on a small table by the window. “Brought some breakfast for you both. And I need to check on you, Aria.”

You force a smile, grateful for his concern but dreading the inevitable questions about your injuries. “Thank you, Hongo.”

Yumi sits up eagerly, eyeing the food with interest. You guide her to the table, helping her get settled before turning your attention back to Hongo.

He gestures for you to sit on the bed, his expression serious yet gentle. “Alright, let’s see how you’re doing.”

You take a seat, trying to steady your nerves. As he begins his examination, you take a deep breath and decide to address the elephant in the room—on your terms.

“A Marine nailed me in the stomach with a rifle,” you say quietly, meeting his gaze. “It was hard enough to cause me to faint.”

Hongo’s brow furrows with concern as he continues his work. “And what did their doctor say?”

“He said it caused some bleeding… but he took care of that and gave me the all clear as long as I rest,” you reply quickly, avoiding any mention of the miscarriage.

He nods slowly, though you can see he’s not entirely convinced. He knows what you hide, but doesn't press. He finishes his examination in silence before stepping back and giving you a reassuring smile.

“You seem alright for now,” he says softly. “But if anything feels off or if there’s any pain that gets worse, let me know immediately. I want you resting, your body needs time to heal.”

“I will,” you promise.

Yumi looks up from her meal with wide eyes as she listens to your conversation. You offer her a comforting smile before turning back to Hongo.

“Thank you,” you say again.

He gives a slight nod and turns towards the door. "Take it easy today," he advises before leaving you alone with Yumi once more.

You exhale deeply and turn back to the breakfast tray, trying to push aside the lingering pain and focus on what lies ahead—one step at a time.

You sit on the deck of the Red Force, the sea breeze ruffling your hair. The crew moves around you, focused on their tasks, but there's an unspoken understanding to leave you and Yumi be. No one pries into what happened. They don't ask about the bruises, or your split lip, or the haunted look in your eyes. Instead, they offer silent support in their own ways—Lucky Roux passes you a plate of food with a smile, Yasopp gives you a nod as he polishes his rifle, and Benn keeps a watchful eye on the horizon.

Yumi sits beside you, her small hand gripping yours tightly. The island comes into view, its lush greenery a stark contrast to the dark memories you're trying to leave behind. As the ship docks, Hana and the villagers gather at the port, their faces lighting up with joy when they see Yumi.

"Yumi!" Yumi's mother calls out, rushing forward with open arms.

Yumi releases your hand and runs to her mother, who scoops her up in a tight embrace. Tears of relief stream down Hana's face as she holds her daughter close. The villagers cheer and crowd around, their joy palpable.

You stand back, watching the reunion with a bittersweet smile. Shanks places a hand on your shoulder, offering silent support. The crew disembarks to help unload supplies and greet the villagers.

Yumi's mother approaches you, still holding Yumi in her arms. "Thank you," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for bringing her back."

You nod, words failing you. The gratitude in her eyes says more than any words could.

Yumi wiggles out of her mother's arms and runs back to you, wrapping her small arms around your waist. "I'll miss you, Miss Aria," she whispers, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You kneel down to her level, brushing a tear from her cheek. "I'll miss you too, Yumi," you say softly. "Be good for your mama and Miss Hana."

She nods vigorously and hugs you tightly one last time before running back to her mother.

As you turn to head back to the ship, Shanks falls into step beside you. The villagers wave and call out their thanks as you walk away.

Back on board the Red Force, the crew resumes their preparations for departure. You stand at the railing with Shanks beside you as the ship begins to pull away from the island. The villagers grow smaller in the distance until they are just specks on the horizon.

You take a deep breath of salty sea air and let it fill your lungs. For now, it's enough to know that Yumi is safe and that you've done something good amid all the chaos and pain. Now you just had to figure out what you were going to do with yourself.

Date Published: 7/26/24

Last Edit: 7/29/24

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