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[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt 1

Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, blood, brief mentions of violence and alcohol

Summary: Upon discovering the unconscious body of a woman floating in the water, you rush to provide aid. Little do you know her people are searching for her, bringing a mysterious man to your door.

A/N: Still very new to writing fanfic (this is literally post number two), but couldn’t get this drabble out of my brain for a week so here it is. Please be kind! 

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

It’s close to dusk when you make your way from town back to your home on the secluded shoreline. With food and supplies in a bag slung over your shoulder, it will be another two or three days before you head back to restock. Although a fair distance, you have come to cherish the 5-mile trek into town. Walking along less traveled paths, visiting with the locals, and admiring the breathtaking nature around you have become some of your favorite things about living on the island. 

As the sun steals its last glimpse over the horizon, the vibrant orange and purple hues stretching across the sky begin to dim. The outline of a small bungalow comes into view about a hundred meters down the way. The warm glow of lanterns you hung before you left shines from the front porch, welcoming your return. 

You stumbled across this place two years ago, abandoned and needing major repair. Maybe it was just your nature to see the beauty and potential in broken things, but as soon as you laid eyes on the residence, your heart was set on it. Wrapped around the front is a porch with stairs that lead down onto a stone path, eventually making its way to the sand. Through the front door, an open entryway and a small kitchen are situated to the left accompanied by a simple sitting area. To the right is a doorway that leads to your bedroom and bathroom. It's a humble home, but you've worked hard to make it comfortable.

As you walk the familiar pathway toward the bungalow, you look out at the ocean. You watch as the water dances its way up the beach with every push and pull of the tide, waves gently lapping their way up onto the sand to make a melodic rhythm. You breathe in the salty air and revel in the beauty the island so generously offers. 

The moment of serenity is interrupted when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something just past the wave breaks. You squint as you try to focus your gaze to ensure the evening shadows aren't playing tricks on you. A shiver shoots down your spine. 

There's something floating in the water. Only, it's not something. It's someone.

"Oh my god," you say in disbelief, your eyes widening as you feel the air rush from your lungs. 

You react on pure instinct, immediately dropping your bag to the ground and sprinting into the water. Taking a deep breath, you plunge straight into the waves, pumping your arms and kicking your legs until they burn. You swim as hard as you can toward the body as it floats face down. 

When you reach it, you fear the worst. Quickly you turn it over to check for a pulse and discover it is a woman. Her frame is small, but she's solid and muscular. Body adorned with beautiful gold and jade trinkets, she appears to be wearing some sort of woven armor. You also notice her raven-black hair tied in a knot on top of her head, and a mesh-like apparatus covering her nose and mouth.

You carefully cradle the woman's head, lifting it out of the water.

"What the hell??" You mutter in shock. 

Right before your eyes, part of the woman’s face that is now exposed to the air turns a pale pigment of blue. She seems human enough, yet the way the blueness of her skin contrasts with its golden tones underneath the ocean surface makes you question what she might be instead.

All thoughts are pushed aside, however, the moment your attention is drawn to the sight of blood. Two gouges, a laceration across her shoulder, and a wound to her abdomen are seeping red into the salt water. She’s in poor condition and time is not on your side.

Doing your best to grapple her body, you kick your feet and pull the woman back to shore. The tide's added assistance gives you both the momentum needed to propel you toward the beach. As soon as you are able to stand, you turn and haul her body the rest of the way out of the ocean. 

Gently you lay her on a patch of dry sand as you take a moment to catch your breath. Your chest repeatedly rises and falls, your lungs straining for more oxygen. Staring at her now, you feel your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as the rest of her body turns the same shade of blue as her face. You shake your head as you fight back both your fear and curiosity. Whatever the woman's origins, tending to her wounds is your main priority. Help her now, and ask questions later.

Still unconscious, you reach up to remove the apparatus over her face, preparing to administer CPR. Suddenly, her arm shoots out and grasps your wrist, scaring the shit out of you. With unbelievable strength, she restrains any movement your hand could possibly make. Her eyes are wide and intense, pupils dilated.

"Okay, okay, I won't mess with it!" You promise. Her grip slackens as her eyes roll to the back of her head, losing consciousness again.

You rub your wrist, the bruise already forming. Deciding it would be best to move her from behind, you link yourself under her arms and pull her towards your home, unwittingly leaving a trail of sand and blood behind you. 

Making it to the bungalow, you manage to get the woman inside and onto your kitchen table. She's breathing, but it's shallow. Quickly, you grab all the first aid and sewing supplies you can scrounge out of the cabinets. You swipe a bottle of tequila from the shelf above the sink for good measure. Then you get to work to patch her up the best you can.

You clean the wound on her abdomen first, as that's where the bleeding is most prominent. Disinfecting it, applying pressure, then sewing it up, you focus meticulously on the needle in your hand, threading it back and forth through her skin. Once you finish, you fashion a bandage to soak up the excess blood.

The sky is dark as you move on to her shoulder to do the same. It feels like hours have gone by as you continue dressing the woman's wounds. It’s well into the night now, and the only light reflecting off the ocean for miles is from the moon and the lanterns of your home.

That's when he finds you.

A dark figure emerges from the water. He surveys the scene in front of him, eyes filling with rage as his focus dials in on the bloody trail leading up to your door. Spear in hand and body seething with anger, he marches towards your little house. 

Just as you clip the thread used to sew up the woman's shoulder and begin to apply another bandage, you're startled by a deafening CRASH!

Behind you, your front door gets obliterated. Through it, storms a man who quickly steps over the wooden debris that now litters the floor. His presence swallows the room as water drips off of his body. His eyes lock on to yours. 

"Holy shit!" You exclaim in terror. Before you know what is happening, he has made his way over to you, aggressively backing you up against the kitchen cabinets. 

Face-to-face with you now, he holds the tip of his spear to your throat, grazing your skin with it threateningly. He leans in so close you smell the salty ocean spray that covers his dark skin and can practically see your reflection in the cold piece of jade pierced through his septum. His breath is steady, but his glare is wild and ferocious. You raise your hands, attempting to show you mean no harm, only you don't account for the fact that your arms are covered in the woman's blood. His look becomes more menacing. 

"What have you done?" He growls, his voice low and dangerous. A fire is burning in his eyes as they widen with rage. 

"I'm helping her! I'm helping her!" is all you manage to say as you plead your case to the mysterious, hostile stranger. 

His stare remains intense as you feel the growing pressure of the cold metal spear against your throat. Everything inside you is screaming, telling you to close your eyes and that one way or another it will all be over soon. But you don't - you hold your ground and hold his gaze, searching his face for any shred of hope that he will spare your life.

The man's eyes flick over to the woman on the table, taking in more of the scene. As his head turns, you notice his pointed ears and beautifully hand-carved gauges made of jade. He turns his head slowly back to you, looking at you this time as if deliberating in his mind whether or not you are telling the truth. 

Again he leans in close, and you hold your breath as you await his final verdict. 

"You will speak of this to no one." It's not a question. It's a command.

You nod, willing to agree to anything at this point if it means not having your jugular sliced open.

"You will forget this night, and what you have seen."

Again you nod.

He keeps the spear pointed at your throat while carefully backing away toward the table. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as adrenaline pumps through your veins. You don't dare move a muscle.

The man retreats, withdrawing his spear and scooping up the woman who looks so petite in his arms. He carries her through the doorway but stops to look back at you. He says nothing, but his eyes are deadlocked on yours. You can’t describe or decipher the electric sensation that runs through your body at that moment, so you chalk it up to being in shock. 

Finally, he turns to leave, seemingly floating down to the shoreline with the woman securely in his arms. You watch as they disappear into the ocean and the night. 

Left alone, surrounded only by silence, the stinging memory of a blade against your neck, and a buzzing in your chest, you look around the empty kitchen. Blood and first aid supplies cover your table; debris that was once your front door now lays scattered across the floor, a draft gliding its way through your home. 

Your mind is still processing everything that has happened. Physically and emotionally, you are exhausted. 

"Screw it," you say out loud, grabbing the tequila still on the table and taking a swig straight from the bottle. "I'm going to bed."

--

You wake up the next morning as the sun is starting to rise and feel just as exhausted as when you had fallen asleep. Your mind is hazy. Your body is sore. You get up and pull on a fresh shirt and some shorts before making your way out of your bedroom. Groggily you shuffle through the entryway and into the kitchen to greet last night's mess. 

Only a few steps into the kitchen, however, you stop. Blinking a few times, you rub your eyes. On the table, where bloodied gauze, cloths, sewing needles, and the works had been scattered, now sits your bag next to a neat pile of the food and supplies you had gathered from yesterday's trip into town. You look down at your feet to discover a clean, debris-less floor. Moving in reverse, you pace a few steps back into the entryway and turn your head. Stunned, you see a new, beautifully carved wooden door in place of where your old one had been kicked down the night before.

You pinch your temples as you try to convince yourself you're not losing your mind. You move closer to inspect the door. Eyes full of wonder and amazement, you run your fingers down its wooden grooves. The surface is smooth as stone, yet the grain in it gives the material a richness that makes your jaw drop as you admire it. 

Before you can even ask yourself how it was possible, you open the door and your breath catches in your throat. The man from last night is sitting there on your front porch, legs hanging off the edge of it, looking out at the softly illuminated horizon. 

"I apologize about the door." He says, still facing the ocean. 

Fear takes over as you find yourself frozen in his presence. He senses your uneasiness and, still seated on the edge of the porch, turns toward you. He raises one hand to the air as a sign of his peaceful intention.

"I promise I am not here to bring harm to you... or your home," he adds, his eyes trailing toward the doorway. You say nothing, equally stunned and confused by his being there. 

"I am sorry for threatening you," he says, his voice turning somber. "I didn't know what you were doing to her."

"Is she okay?" You ask, finally finding your voice. "Your wife?"

He lets out a sharp chuckle. 

"Namora isn't my wife, she's one of my generals -- my best, in fact. And yes, she is okay, thanks to you."

A general. You avert your gaze, feeling foolish for assuming incorrectly. Suddenly the events of last night take on a different tone than what you had perceived.

"We had been searching for her for two days." The man continues to explain, "When I finally traced her whereabouts here and found her with you, I assumed the worst." He looks back out toward the ocean. "History has not typically been kind to my people in these types of situations."

You feel your chest tighten as the weight of his words sinks in. Your eyes wander from the ground up to the stranger. You watch as beads of salt water forge paths on his skin, rolling from his dark slick hair down the toned muscles of his back. 

"Who... are your people, exactly? Who are you?" You find the courage to ask.

He turns back to look at you, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he considers his answers.

"There are some who know me as K’uk’ulkan." He says thoughtfully. "But most know me as Namor." Pushing himself up to a stand, he continues, "As for my people, that is a discussion for another time." 

Namor walks up to you, and once again you find yourself face-to-face with him. Only this time his presence is not menacing, it's hypnotizing. 

"Thank you," he says softly, "for what you did. It will not be forgotten." 

There's a rich sincerity in his voice. Mesmerized by it, all you can muster in response is a nod of your head. A slight smile pulls at the corners of Namor's mouth as he closely studies your face. The light of the morning sun reflects in his eyes, and where you had only seen brooding darkness before, you now see shimmering flecks of gold. Everything about him is beautiful. 

"You are not what I expected." He says warmly, leaning in closer as if the two of you are sharing a secret. He lingers there a moment longer. Then, all too soon, he nods and turns to head down the stairs of your front porch. As he reaches the end of the stone walkway, he stops before stepping out onto the sand. 

"Remember," he says, repeating his instructions from your encounter last night, only gentler. "Speak of this to no one."  

"Will you be back?" You ask earnestly. You don't know what prompts your question, other than the thought of his departure suddenly pulling at your soul in a way you can't explain.

He turns back to look at you and smiles. You return it with a smile of your own. No words are needed for you to know that somehow, someday, you would see him again.

You watch from the porch as Namor strides out into the water and disappears below the surface. The sun glimmers brilliantly across the waves as they engulf him in their deep abyss. 

[solarpunkani]

You know what I feel we need more of?

Community centers.

Specifically, places where people can gather, have fun, host events or even just hang out. Similar to what libraries are, but not quite--a place where kids can be loud and rowdy and hang out, make friends, practice sports. Though they definitely should still have quiet areas, maybe craft rooms too. A nice place to go to and hang out after school before you're ready to head home--or a safe place to stay if you don't want to head home. Community centers could also still be fantastic for adults too--they could be used as a place to host classes on different crafts, or repairs, etc.--and still be a perfectly valid place to hang out and seek refuge.

Places like these do exist in many places in a few different forms, but a lot of them are directly tied to organizations and groups that may make people more hesitant to partake in them (ie churches, Police Athletic Leagues), or they have a cost barrier to taking part of the amenities (YMCA). While these places are definitely suitable and fulfilling for many people, they're often limiting and stifling for others--if not just flat-out inaccessible. Not to mention, they don't all fill the roles I mentioned above.

I think having robust community centers would be great for societies all over. I'll admit, my imagination is a bit grand--community gardens, sports rec rooms, swimming pools, reading and craft rooms, a repair cafe, a food cafe, maybe a dorming area for overnight stays, soup kitchens, showers, mutual aid closets and such.

Though I guess that brings about the question of how this would be funded. With churches, it's tithes and other forms of community fundraising. With police athletic leagues, its... taxes, I guess? Alongside other donations. And with the YMCA, it's memberships that provide the funding for their amenities. My initial instinct is to say a mix of taxes and maybe some community contributions would be what funds a good community center, but then there comes the issue of some places having better or worse community centers depending on the median income of their area... especially when you see how places like libraries already get little funding in favor of larger policing budgets (the libraries in my city are all closed on Sundays, and have shorter hours in general, for example)

I know I'm just rambling at this point. I just think community centers are cool! They're punk! And we should have them--cool, fun community centers!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Bro, you forgot that Nathalie is weakened and sick because overused broken miraculous. Her condition is terrible that even make her paralyzed, always cough and become more paler

(Post this is in response to)

Bro, you forgot that Nathalie is really active in season five and perfectly capable of working around her disability until her condition reaches its final phase.

Evolution takes place the same day as Risk and Strikeback, meaning that season five starts with Nathalie well enough to leave the country and order Adrien around. Yes, she coughs a lot and needs a mobility aid at this point, but that doesn't stop her from wanting to be part of the action:

Gabriel: (on-call) Nathalie, Ladybug has finally faulted! Taking risks has paid off! I have nearly all of the Miraculous, including the one of Evolution, granting the power of time travel! Nathalie: (on the train) Gabriel, wait for me. As soon as I'm home, we'll—

And coming up with plots:

Nathalie: There is another way to use the Miraculous of the Rabbit. (Gabriel gasps.) You could go back to a time before Emilie used the damaged Peacock Miraculous. You can save your wife, Gabriel! (presents a flash drive) This holds the information on how to repair the magic jewel so that Emilie never becomes ill using it. You would just need to give the drive to yourself. (hands Gabriel the drive) Make the right choice. It's not too late!

And in Multiplication - which takes place weeks later - she's still well enough to plot with the villains and play door guard:

Scene: Interior, the Agreste mansion, in Gabriel's atelier. Gabriel is discussing something with Tomoe, in presence of Nathalie. While Tomoe is examining an Alliance ring, Adrien enters the room and interrupts them. Adrien: Father. Nathalie: (blocking the door) It’s not the time, Adrien.

And in Passion - which takes place even later- she's well enough to pin Gabriel to the freaking kitchen table:

Nathalie:(grabs Gabriel's hand, twists it behind his back and pushes him onto the table) Don't ever do that again! I came to this house to hunt magical artifacts for you and Emilie. I became your bodyguard, your right hand woman, your friend, and even more. But this is all over. You used to do this out of love for Emilie, but now, you're only doing it out of madness, and the only reason I'm still here is to protect Adrien from you!

She then comes up with a plan to have Gabriel akumatize her so that she can go out and get the miraculous for herself in order to make her own wish because akumas are magical healers that remove disabilities for as long as they're in effect:

Scene 1:

Emilie:(from the video) I'm counting on you, Nathalie. I know he's as stubborn as they come and, it won't be easy to convince him to stop chasing the Miraculous. (coughs) But you have to, for Adrien. He's going to need you both and I know you'll take care of him like a mother. Nathalie: (crying) I'm sorry, I failed you. But I promise you, I will get the Miraculous before he does. I won't let him recreate the world in the image of his madness!

Scene 2:

Gabriel:(sighs) Emilie, I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to go on alone. Nathalie: You're not alone. (walks up to him) Gabriel: Nathalie. Nathalie: A long time ago, I promised I'd bring you all the magical items you would need, but I was never able to bring you Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous. It's time I truly delivered on my promise. Gabriel: No, Nathalie, you've already risked too much! Nathalie: It's time to risk it all. Akumatize me.

And in Revelation - the 20th episode of the season! - she's well enough to go around the Agreste mansion and send pictures to Lila so that our new big bad knows everything while the heroes' stay in the dark. (I don't blame Nathalie for this, btw. Akuma powers and all that. I'm just pointing out that she was still well enough to get into the basement without Gabriel noticing during an akuma fight.)

So what argument are you trying to make here? That Nathalie was too disabled to be a good person, but being evil in spite of her disability was fine? That feels really insulting to the disabled.

Nathalie's condition worsens as the season goes on. Only in the final does she reach a point where she's too weak to do anything and only in the final does she actually try to stop Gabriel, which is why I called her actions pathetic fan service. It's not Nathalie that's pathetic, it's her writing, which waited until she couldn't actually do anything to let her "try" to stop the plot that she's known about and actively supported all season long. Somehow, people actually bought it, too, which blows my mind!

Her going crossbow hunting isn't the culmination of a season where Nathalie desperately tried to stop Gabriel and free Adrien. It's her one good deed after a season spent supporting Gabriel in every meaningful way in spite of her supposed turn to the side of good. Nathalie is smart, powerful, and clever. If she's really turned to the good side, then Gabriel would have been doomed. But she didn't actually turn to the good side, the writers wouldn't let her, which is why I cannot stand her character in season five. They should have just let her stay a villain and removed the senti complication. If they did that, then literally nothing about her writing would need to change. She could still be nice to Adrien while keeping all of Gabriel's secrets. Those are actions that fit a villain way better than whatever Nathalie was supposed to be in season five.

[kaeyahiya]

"Unrequited Enemies" (NSFW)

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Pairing: Ayato x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW/Explicit content, use of y/n if that bothers you,use of feminine parts, enemies to lovers (kinda), swearing, and mentions of marking, a little bit of angst, a little bit of smut

Disclaimer: This is intended for adult viewing only, I have plenty of SFW content on my master list so please check that out instead. I am strongly discouraging and actively not condoning the consummation of this content for anyone who is a minor.

Word count: 5687 OH MY GOD???

Authors note: This is LONG the longest thing I think I've written to date. This counts as like a full fic, should be like a multi chapter type beat. It's a long read but dare I say this might be my best work yet. Anway, I haven't written anything for Ayato bc he was a faceless ncp before I went on my hiatus.... I am also in love with man and couldn't stand the thought of this. Hence I'm writing a self serving fic bc I'm incredibly selfish rn and need some of this man in my life. Also I enjoy a good enemies to lovers troupe sue me!! ALSO ALSO THIS IS GENDERED HAHAHAHA finally if you see my master list it's all been GN so ha I did it. Anyway enjoy me being selfish 🧍🏻‍♂️(edit) Future self here... This took me almost a month to write, this turned into a novel and I apologize....

This will also be crossposted on my A03 probably bc of the girth of this beast. You can read it: Here if you prefer that interface better

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

Working under the Kamisato's was a blessing. Truly it was. You considered yourself exceptional in hospitality and an ace seamstress. That's how the Kamisato clan sought you out.

Lady Ayaka was kind, the easy one to put it bluntly. Her tasks were normal simply as asking you to clean her linens or making small repairs on her formal wears. (Which Thoma would normally jump in to help, cleaning and sewing was also his forte). Genuinely, she was the nicest noble person you've ever seen, still managing to keep an air of excellence and gracefulness to her despite her overly kind nature. 

Working there is what kept you and your family fed and you were able to have a safe haven during the Vision Hunt Degree when being a vision holder yourself was hard to avoid.

However, working under the Kamisato's wasn't easy work by any means.

The head of the household was where the issue lied when it came to your work. Kamisato Ayato, you swear had it out for you since you arrived to work for them. One day he'd have you doing mundane tasks like taking inventory of the spices in the kitchen, and the next it would be making him tea over and over until it was the exact temperature he liked.

Not to mention all the constant repairs on his clothes you'd have to do, whether it be taking care of personal matters or training with his sister he'd always come back with piles of clothes in need of huge repairs.

You probably would have punched the pretty smirk off of "Lord Ayato's" face if it wasn't for poor Thoma keeping you afloat. You feel bad but while he cooks, you normally lament your frustrations to him. He'll occasionally offer his support or advice, since after all he's your senior and also a fellow outsider of Inazuma.

"Miss, your presence is requested in Lord Ayato's office." the guard locks eyes with you. You want to groan in agony, you were hungry and tired but still you mustered a smile. " I'll head over right now, thank you."  You say with a small bow. Once the guard exits you you finally let out a long groan looking to Thoma for support. "Can't you go instead, at least you can put up with his nonsense." You sigh exasperated.

After one particularly frustrating day of repairing both Lord Ayato's and Lady Ayaka's training wear entirely and aiding another with mending their Shinai Practice Swords (The bamboo ones, commonly used in kendo??), which were almost beyond repair. You find yourself once again in the kitchen with Thoma going on and on about the day before a dreaded guards men enter.

Thoma chuckles. "I believe a 'Miss' was summoned, I'd be scolded if I showed up, besides I'm cooking. Unless you wanna deliver food to the entire staff and the Lord and Lady." You wrap him lightly on the back of his shoulder. " Fine, but if I wind up dead it's your fault." You joke. You excuse yourself and exit the kitchen; then head for your doom, Lord Kamisato's office.

-

You stand outside his office, the dimly lit Shoji (those paper sliding door things?) showing the silhouette of menace himself just waiting for you.  "(Y/N) here My Lord." You grit your teeth. "You may enter." You can almost hear the sadistic smile in his voice. Sliding open the door you're immediately confused on why you are here.

Ayato looked right as rain, clean and on top of that his office looked organized and practically sparkling (you'll have to thank Thoma for that later), boba tea full, and a small before dinner snack fully eaten. What more could he need at this hour. "Ah yes, Miss (Y/N)" his eyes lock with yours. "I've seemed to have spilled ink on my clothes. I need them cleaned immediately before dinner is finished." Though the room was dimly lit, you could clearly see there was no ink anywhere on Ayato's clothing.

"My lord I don't-" before you can even finish getting the word's out, Ayato takes the ink on his desk and proceeds to dump its contents all over his clothing. All the while that signature sadistic smile plastered on his face. You face contorts, you try to conceal the seething hot rage from pouring out of your mouth. (Un)Luckily Ayato speaks first. "I'm sorry you were going to say something? Go ahead, I apologize for my clumsiness."

Your mouth opens but you quickly close it. You're dumbfounded. His informal attire is mostly white, similar to his training attire, getting ink of that amount out in such a short amount of time would be nearly impossible. As you continue to stand there in silence you can see Ayato absolutely blossom with happiness.

A few more seconds pass until you collect yourself enough to speak calmly. "I'll fetch you some other clothing to change into while I tend to your..." Your eyes narrow at him. " Accident. " Words laced with venom at the end. He nods, smiling. " Go ahead, I'll be right here. Do be quick though, I hear ink is a pain to get out the longer you leave it. " He smirks.

You bow rigidly before bolting out the door to his quarters to grab him some fresh clothing.  Returning to the lion's den, you announce yourself once more. "You may enter," Ayato calls out again. Sliding open the door he promptly stands up this time.

You don't say a word but hold out the clean clothes to him. "My my, that was fast." He smiles. You don't answer but begin to turn to exit so he can change in private.  "No need to be so shy. You're practically one of my retainers at this point. "

You quickly turn around deciding to face the door instead of him, face red with embarrassment this time. You hear the rustling of the rest of his clothes. After a few awkward quiet moments with your thoughts filled with annoyance and somehow Lord Ayato's bare chest and perfect stupid abs, he finally speaks again. "I'm dressed." You pivot to see him again, back in pristine condition, however not bothering to pick up the ink stained clothes off the ground.

Retainer??? Since when? Where's your pay raise? That's all that runs through your mind as you stare at him dumbfounded. You don't realize until you snap out of your train of thought Ayato has already started stripping, his bare chest on full display. "Miss (Y/N) I don't mind if you watch, but watching me so intensely is unnecessary." You didn't think that smirk could get any bigger but it does.

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in and kneel to grab the stained clothes scattered around his feet. You go to grab a sleeve and the bastard has his foot still on the article of clothing. Giving it a little tug as a hint to move, Ayato simply looks down at you with a smile. "Oh my apologies, didn't realize I was standing on it and hindering your precious time to get those pesky stains out." He steps out of your way and plants himself back to his desk. Asshole is all that runs through your mind as you gather the clothes.

Once again you quickly excuse yourself and rush to the medical bay to grab some balls of cotton and rubbing alcohol. Storming back into the kitchen you decide you need to get this frustration out and combat this stain at the same time.

-

You definitely startle Thoma as you slide open the Shoji with little to no care of its fragility. "Listen I'm sorry, Lord Ayato is fucking awful."  You say holding up the stained clothing to accentuate your point.

You recount your encounter with the Lord of the house to Thoma all the while desperately scrubbing the ink out with the rubbing alcohol. "He's a sadist Thoma, he hates me I'm sure of it. Why on earth would he do this." Thoma turns to the area of the table you're vigorously scrubbing at ,now almost finished with dinner at this point, offers you a pot of cold water and soap to help you finish cleaning the stain. "That's just Lord Ayato, and hey maybe it was a genuine mistake."  He shrugs. "Thoma, I saw him pick it up and dump it on himself."

You move over a bit to let Thoma work his laundry magic. Taking the garment from you, which was now almost its original color, he washes it in the aforementioned cold soapy water. After some more scrubbing he pulls it out. Looking as radiant as it did on Ayato before he went and soiled it.  "Thoma I'm sorry for roping you into this... I appreciate you." He smiles nudging you softly. " Stop that, you'd do the same for me if I needed that level of help. " You're glad Thoma is always here to save your ass. 

"I may have done the best I can but it won't dry before dinner, since I'm almost done with it." You grab your Anemo Vision and wave it in front of him and he lets out a 'Oh yeah...' before he smiles radiantly. "You got this then, dry it quick and as soon as you're done I'll serve dinner. Hopefully that'll buy you a bit of time. " You bow to Thoma, thanking him profusely. You exit the kitchen before running to the courtyard to swiftly dry the Lord's clothes with a little help from your Vision.

-

After making quick work of drying the clothes. (Thank you Anemo Archon). You inspect the clothes one last time and decide they are pristine enough for him. Carefully folding them, you proceed to slide down the hall to Ayato's office once more. 

For the final time of the night you announce yourself. "Miss (Y/n) back so soon?" he says as you enter. His eyes narrow in on the clothes in your hands. "I'm more than pleased with your speediness. However, folding them will definitely crease them." You wordlessly unfold the clothes, gesturing to the creaseless stainless garments. "I see... Very well then, I will change after dinner."  

His eyes light up again and you regret opening your stupid mouth. "Ah yes, Thoma should be along with my dinner soon. My arms are awfully tired from writing documents all evening..." There it is again that fucking sadistic grin. "Stay here and feed me will you?" You can't stop the words from spilling out of your mouth. "What? Why?" Clapping a hand over your mouth. He didn't like that, you can tell as you watch sadism on his face fade to confusion. "Because you serve under me and I'm telling you to do so." 

Taking the clothes from your hands, Ayato purses his lips briefly as your fingers touch during the exchange.  You grimace at him, typical of him to be disgusted by touching you even for a millisecond. You quickly rearrange your face before asking the dreaded question. "Can I help you with anything else my Lord?"

Right. You forgot. You're supposed to be like Thoma, a loyal dog who does what it's told. Maybe that's what you're supposed to do but this was an outlandish request. However, knowing the wrath of Kamisato Ayato, you flop yourself in the corner in defeat, not bothering to put up a fight. You press your knees up to your chest, glancing at Ayato's, once again, happy smirk. He too proceeds to sit back down, at his desk.

A heavy silence fills the room as Ayato resumes his work. You want to yell at him, kick and scream, but overall you just wanted to cry. You're so embarrassed for what's to come and your mind is reeling. The tears brimming your eyes burn as you try to continue putting on a strong front. You refuse to let this asshole see you cry.

Thoma must be taking his time because amongst the scribbling mixed in with silence you have a lot of time to think. You evaluate your position. You signed up for this, but did you really? A maid sure, but dealing with a sadistic brat? No, that wasn't in the job description. Or maybe that was the plan all along, maybe it just happened along the way? You weren't sure at this point and you felt bitter and defeated.

"Lord Ayato?" Your voice comes out horse. "Hmm?" He questions. "Why do you trouble me with the most torturous and utterly embarrassing tasks?" You stare him down. He looks shocked you dare question his authority. He opens his mouth to answer? maybe yell at you? But as if the Archons themselves are taunting you, Thoma announces himself. "My Lord you dinner is ready, may I enter?" Ayato fixes his gaze on you for a second longer than needed before responding to Thoma. "Thoma. Yes, you may enter." He answers 

Thoma comes in hands full of all of the dishes Ayato requested tonight. He almost doesn't see you in the corner for a second but being the loyal retainer he is, the actual retainer of Ayato, he says nothing but shoots you a sympathetic glance. "Thoma, please let Miss (Y/n) help you with the rest of your food deliveries. I wish not to be disturbed the rest of the night." Ayato says using a voice he normally only uses when talking with other officials. It's cold, a lot colder than usual. The blood drains from your face and a knot forms in your stomach, you fucked up big time.  

-

Three days. It was three days of terrifying tranquility, free of summoning from Lord Ayato.

Lady Ayaka assured you, as well as your job, were fine. The looming anxiety however had you on edge, you couldn't sleep fearing you'd be assassinated in the middle of the night. After all Kamisato Ayato hated being questioned, the only thing you were sure he hated more was you. Death would be the only solution right? 

You were in the courtyard, it was evening and everyone was eating dinner. Thoma approached you gently tapping your shoulder. "Dinner is ready for you in the maid's quarters... But uh, Lord Ayato wishes to see you in his quarters before dinner." He says sheepishly. You groan looking to Thoma “If you don't see me tomorrow, assume the worst." You joke but deep down felt your stomach drop. It had been three days of not seeing him, who knows what kind of punishment you'd receive. 

Thoma gave you a reassuring smile as you bid him farewell and headed from the courtyard to the personal quarters of Kamisato Ayato. It's not like you haven't been there before, but something still felt off about addressing your punishment not in his office but your room. 

So there you were, standing in front of the looming door to the man who was about to decide your fate. You swallow hard before addressing your arrival. "My Lord, (Y/n) here. Thoma said you requested my presence..." Your voice came out a lot shakier than you'd like to admit. Frankly you were terrified. There was, what felt like, an eternity of silence before he finally responded. "Come in."

Your hands waver as you pull the Shoji door open. It was almost pitch black inside Ayato's room. He was sitting under a Kotatsu with his dinner finished. His eyes immediately fixed on you as you entered. "Miss (Y/n) please sit. There's something I'd like to discuss with you." Fuck. Your family will be so upset if you lose this job, what will you do for work, where will you live? Sure you hate Ayato but you for the most part enjoy your job and- No no no you can't spiral right now. 

You suck in a composed breath and take a seat opposite him under the Kotatsu. "What is it, my Lord?" You ask meekly. He closes his eyes, sighing. "I.. You see.." He's uncharacteristically fidgety. "My sister has brought it to my attention that I've been causing you much strife lately." You want to laugh, lately he says, it's been since day one but okay sure. You grit your teeth. "As you said before, I serve under you. It's my duty, I suppose." You respond promptly. As much as it hurts your pride to admit you needed this job. You belong here and you won't go down without a fight. "I see." He says, sighing again. 

" (Y/n)... You loathe me do you not?" He locks eyes with you, as if boring directly into your soul. " My Lord, of course not. I'm grateful to serve the Kamisatos." He shakes his head. " Miss (Y/n), from the moment you arrived here you've seemed to take a disliking to me. I'm just trying to understand what started it. Please be cooperative." 

Huh? You? You're the problem in this situation? You know what fuck your job. "Kamisato Ayato, I do believe from the moment I arrived here you've made me do the most outlandish things and have, frankly, acted like a brat. If anyone hated anyone first it'd be you." You bang your fist on the table of the Kotatsu. "I'm a mere maid trying to make a living, not a babysitter or a toy for a spoiled noble's amusement." 

He has the audacity to laugh. "I'm sorry I seem to be missing the joke here my Lord. Please share so I too can laugh at the very serious call concerns I just raised." You glare at him. He smiles trying to suppress his laughter. "(Y/n) no one has ever talked to me like that before..." You pause. You've never seen Ayato look so pleased in your presence before. 

"Shamefully I'll admit, I enjoyed hearing your true feelings about me." He fidgets under the Kotatsu again. "For the record, I never hated you. I enjoy teasing you, and I'll admit I take things to an extreme. For that I apologize for the suffering I put you through." You're stunned at his apology. The head of the Kamisato clan apologized to you? " My Lord I..." Your words catch in your throat and all the anxiety built over the past three days spills out of your eyes. The one thing you swore you'd never do happens, you're crying in front of Ayato. 

Instinctively Ayato rushes to your side of the Kotatsu kneeling next to you handing you his handkerchief. You take it and turn away from him as you try to repress your sobs. "(Y/n) I'm so sorry, I didn't realize... I..." He turns you to face him. His face is almost unrecognizable, maybe from the blurry vision of your tears, but his face laced with pure concern and gentleness. "I apologize for being so bold to ask but my I... Hug... You?" H u h?  Your world feels like it's been turned upside-down. Ayato is being nice to you, and the craziest part is you kind of enjoy how it makes you feel. A half hour ago you would've never dreamed you'd be in this situation. 

You cautiously nod and Ayato gently pulls your much smaller form into his chest. You sniff, still calming down from your episode. Ayato gently strokes your back. It sends shivers down your spine but you don't... hate it?? You're conflicted at this moment. A man who was once so cruel to you is now being the perfect gentleman. 

While battling your thoughts Ayato fills the silence. "When my sister and I were young, she would often hurt herself by accident. While she cried, I'd hold her like this until she would calm down." You hum softly. You're unsure what to say. This whole situation feels like a twisted dream. You feel like any moment you'd wake up in your bed and the sinister Ayato you'd known up until now would return.

You glance up at him, his eyes are closed as he still is gently stroking your back. He looks peaceful, a small gentle smile on his face. You dare even concur he looks rather handsome like this. Your face turns red as you now realize the situation you're in. Kamisato Ayato is holding you. Even worse, you're enjoying it.

One of his eyes opens and peers down at you. His smile gets wider but remains gentle still. "Feeling better?" He asks. "I think so. I apologize for my outburst My Lor-" "Ayato..." "Huh?" "You can apologize but please use my name, not my title." You snort with a smile, there's the Ayato you know. "I apologize for my actions Ayato. For the record as well, I don't hate you either." 

You pause for a brief second confused by your own confession, then words continue to spill out of your mouth. "I think I hated the way you treated me and just assumed you hated me. Besides you'd make me do silly things and would cause problems just for me to fix, making my life harder, it was frustrating but..." Ayato tips your chin up from his chest. You both stare at each other in silence.

Whatever rambles you had in your mind vanished and all you can think about now is how pretty his eyes are and how you never noticed until right now.  Ayato leans down, your lips inches apart from his, you can feel the heat of his lips radiating on to yours. "May I be bold once more Miss (Y/n)?"  You say nothing, you're absolutely frozen so he continues. "I think I did all of that because I'm positively enamored by you." Then closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you.

His lips are soft and as his hand moves from your back to your waist you find yourself kissing him back. It's gentle but tender, all that pent up rage for the man you once loathed melts and in this moment it feels like you two are the only ones in the world. He pulls away first. You stare at him, he looks positively breathtaking now. His other hand runs a finger over your bottom lip then joins his other hand on your waist. "If you hate it please tell me to stop, and I will." You shake your head. "Please... Continue."

-

His lips meet yours again this time with more passion. You wrap your arms around his neck and gently part your lips. Ayato takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss further, sliding his tongue gently into your mouth. His hands wonder about your body while he kisses you. You can't deny the sparks that follow in the wake of his touch. 

You part briefly to catch your breath and Ayato uses this as an opportunity to explore your neck. You tilt your head to the side giving him more access. He chuckles softly at your action. "So responsive." He teases against your neck. "Please keep your thoughts to yourself and keep kissin-" He bites down on your neck leaving whatever grip you had planned to die in throat and gets replaced with a soft moan. He lavishes the bite with his tongue and you're positive that's gonna be a mark you'll have to cover tomorrow morning. He tugs at the corner of your kimono staring into your eyes asking for silent permission to continue. 

Taking the hint you boldly slide down the shoulder of your kimono to let him continue. He smirks as continues his conquest from your neck to your newly exposed collarbones. Placing soft kisses on them while making quick work of sliding the top half of your kimono off, leaving the excess fabric to hang around your waist. The cold night air hits your skin leaving your exposed top half covered in goosebumps. Ayato reaches around to your back feeling for the clasp of your bra. "May I?" His voice comes out soft, filled with lust against the shell of your ear. "Please." You whimper.   He skillfully unclasped the bra freeing your breasts from the confines. Instinctively you cover your, your face bright red with embarrassment with another realization Kamisato Ayato, your boss, is about to see your naked body. 

Ayato wraps a warm hand around your wrist, planting a kiss on the inside of it. "If you're nervous we can stop here. If not..." His eyes wander to his bed, which is partially skewed from your vision due to the folding screen for Ayato's privacy sake. "No I want to continue... I just..." You laugh. "I don't want this to affect my job you know?" Ayato chuckles back. "I promise you it won't." You blush slowly unfolding your arms. "In that case..." He smiles, that's all the permission he needs and in one swift motion stands up and hoists your half clothes body over his shoulder, like you weighed nothing. 

He takes a few steps and throws you on to his bed, one you've made many times before and one you'll probably have to make again after this. He takes advantage of you getting comfortable to take off his top. You're once again faced with Ayato's bare torso, this time you are able to ogle at it as much as you'd like. "You're staring again." He says with a smug expression, climbing on the bed now towering over you. "Am I not allowed to My Lord?" You quip back. 

He raises an eyebrow and then you see that expression on him that you used to loathe, that sadistic smile. "I suppose I'll allow it tonight. I'll even do you one better." He once again grabs your wrists, this time places your hands on his bare chest, abs, shoulders. But Ayato being Ayato was in control of your movements Giving you the satisfaction of feeling his smooth skin but not giving you control to do so as you please. "Ayato..." You whine. He just laughs before releasing your hands and leans back down to kiss you again. 

While kissing you his hands wander to your breasts giving them a little squeeze. You can feel him smile in the kiss when you let out a small moan. "Sensitive?" He asks. You nod in response, worried your words will betray you. His kiss trails back down your neck to your breasts this time. Taking a nipple in his mouth and biting and suckling on it you can help but cover your mouth and whine in pleasure. He takes his other hand and messages the other breast pinching your other nipple occasionally. 

Your core was practically aching for friction at this point you wiggle your hips. Ayato's attention shifts again. "How cute.. Someone's needy." He says after releasing your breast from his mouth. He shifts his attention to untie your obi to get the rest of your pesky kimono out of the way. When he does you catch a glimpse of the sizable bulge in his pants. "I could say the same for you." You tease. "Can you blame me?" He responds as you lift your hips so you can let him discard your kimono on the floor. "Besides, your one to comment when your panties have a wet spot." He states bluntly as he slides off the bed dragging you by the hips to set you at the side of the bed. 

Ayato plays with the waistband of your panties eyes once again meeting your asking for silent permission to go on. As if you would stop him now. He must take your silence for reassurance because he drags your panties down your hips and discards them somewhere with your kimono. He parts your legs and spreads your pussy open. "You're soaked..." He sounds breathless as he stares at your glistening hole. "Don't stare!" You protest as you attempt to close your legs, admittedly flustered. Ayato, of course, overpowers you by keeping you legs spread and plants a firm's kiss on your clit. 

He takes his time eating you out. Making sure to tease all the spots he gets a good reaction out of you. Your grip on the beds' silken sheets will tear somehow. Ayato looks up at you making eye contact with you before sucking on you clit particularly hard. You almost cum right there. After a one more delicate kiss on your core he brings his fingers up to your mouth. "Suck on these for me please." He says. Instinctively you take his fingers in your mouth. The flush across his face as you tease the tips of his fingers is something you'll definitely be thinking about later. 

Once Ayato decides you've soaked his fingers enough he gently pulls them from your mouth. You let out a whine and Ayato takes the opportunity to spread your legs a bit wider. "Oral fixation... Good to know." He teases. Taking his now wet fingers he gently prods at your damp fold locking eyes with you as he slowly inserts a finger into you. You bring a hand out to cover the guttural moan that spills from your mouth. 

Ayato looks up at you, eyes boring into yours. "You better keep your voice down, we don't want the entire estate to know I'm giving my 'disobedient maid' a punishment. " He winks, and you click your tongue at him. Ayato quickly slides another finger into your hole before you can come up with something to throw back at him. 

Ayato scissors his fingers, opening you up for him. You feel close, that all too familiar high. "C.. close" is the only thing you can muster without being too loud, you were just so sensitive. He smiles sinisterly at you, rudely ripping his finger from your aching core. "Not yet, I want you to cum with me inside you." He bashfully explains. To think Kamisato Ayato is blushing, you still honestly can't tell if this is a fever dream or not.

While in your own thoughts Ayato shed the rest of clothing and you finally get to see his cock. It's definitely not going to fit... He's going to split you in half. You move to get off the bed to 'return the favor' but Ayato stops you. "Next time... I need you right now." Pushing you back down on the bed he grabs some oil stashed under his bed and lubes up his dick. Pumping it a few times for good measure. The anticipation is gnawing at you, as he runs his length in-between your folds. 

You open your mouth to tell him to hurry up, but his lips catch yours and he inserts himself into you. Ayato takes, what would have been an earth shattering groan, from your lips as he lets you adjust to his size. Pinning your arms above your head he peppers your face with kisses as your pain slowly morphs into pleasure. Eventually the pain stops and you relish in the feeling of being full, the glee of that gets old pretty fast and now all you want is Ayato to rail you into high heaven. 

You wiggle your hips as a gesture to show him you're ready and he smiles down at you. "Use your words... Ask me what you want." He's a fucking sadistic asshole. "Please?" You whine. "Please what? (Y/N), you always have something to say, why are you so shy now?" You hate him, tears of desperation fill your eyes. " Ayato please fuck me, I need you to fuck me. I can't-" You choke back a moan as Ayato slides all the way out of you and rams his dick back into you.  He buries his face into your neck. "Good girl." He praises before leaving yet another hickey you'll have to cover later. 

He sets a steady pace snapping his hips into yours. You can only imagine how fucked out you look right now. Ayato looks like an Archon himself above you, his furrowed brow and the sweat glistening on his forehead. To think you hated this man a few hours ago... Now look at you, completely at his mercy. The soft grunts he lets out next to your ear you wish to engrave in your memories forever. 

Ayato hits that spot inside you that makes your vision blur and you can't suppress the whine that spills out this time. "Ther..Fuck...There!" Ayato hones into that spot, causing you to fall over the edge. He gently thrusts in and out of you helping you ride out your orgasm. With the combination of your soft whines and how tight your climax made you, he pulls out and comes all over your stomach. 

With no strength left Ayato collapses, gently, onto you. "Noooo" you whine weakling. " My stomach is a mess now you're messy too." "I'll call for a maid to bring me a towel." You smack him and he laughs, rolling off you. He pushes himself up off the bed and grabs a small towel from a drawer. Gently tending to your cum covered stomach before attending to himself. You curl up on his bed, as you watch him as he grabs your clothes along with his. "So next time huh?" You smirk. "Pardon?" He freezes for a moment. "I owe you one, so you know... This doesn't have to be a one time thing." He clears his throat. "I wouldn't be opposed to that, I suppose."

 You push yourself up to grab your clothes from him but immediately regret it as every muscle in your body refuses to cooperate with you. You fall back on the bed Ayato chuckles softly. "Rest for a bit before leaving... Leaving too hastily will definitely cause more suspicion than leaving now anyway... " He lays back down on the bed pulling your body into his. "I didn't take you for a cuddler My Lord." You joke, followed by a yawn. He laughs, stroking your back just as softly as he did when you were crying. "Rest for a bit. I promise I'll wake you up in a bit." You nod sleepily into his chest. "Just for a bit is fine." You mumble before drifting off to sleep in Ayato's arms.

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

OH MY GOD I FINISHED IT HAHAHAHA GET ABSOLUTELY FUCKED PAST ME. If you read all of this I both sincerely apologize and thank you for reading my self serving fic. I hope you enjoyed it even a tiny bit.

[finallydoingfanfics]

Fever Pt. 2

Warnings: angst and fluff and tiny hint of suggestive language if you look hard enough. Will probably do another part (maybe an epilogue?) just because I want to give dad! Derek his own moment to shine. Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

The next morning, Derek sat quietly at the kitchen table, his coffee growing cold as his mind replayed the events of the previous night. He remembered the weight of her hand in his, the silent, aching need for more that he felt. Their breakup had been an attempt to protect Maya, to shield her from the heated arguments and disagreements that came with two people as headstrong as they were. He and Reader had both wanted so badly to keep her world steady and safe, and for a while, separating had seemed like the best choice. But as he stared down into his coffee, he wondered if they’d underestimated the quiet toll it would take on all three of them. They’d made their choice out of love and a deep sense of responsibility, but being apart—keeping Maya from experiencing the love that still lived between them—was its own kind of loss.

Derek leaned against the counter, his mind slipping back to memories he rarely let surface. He’d been so young when his dad passed—too young to fully understand, but old enough to remember the quiet, steady love his parents had shared. There were flashes of moments, small but powerful, where he’d seen them together, laughing, holding hands, his dad pulling his mom into a dance in the kitchen. Those memories were precious because they were all he had, fragments of the love that had shaped him. He’d always felt that loss and sometimes he wondered who he might’ve been if he’d had just a few more years of seeing them together. Now, standing in the kitchen alone, he felt a pang of guilt that he and Reader had thought shielding Maya from the tension was somehow a gift. It hurt to think they’d denied her the chance to see what they’d had—the nights they’d snuck out to swim under starlit skies after a grueling case, the early mornings they’d spent driving through empty highways, singing along to whatever was playing, and those stolen moments in unfamiliar cities where they’d find a hidden café or a quiet rooftop to just be together. Preventing her from seeing that love wasn’t protecting her, he realized; it was robbing her of knowing a part of herself.

Derek took a steadying breath, setting his coffee down with a quiet resolve. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to see her, to say everything he’d been holding back. Before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed his keys and headed to the door. The morning was still new, and as he started the engine, a determined calm settled over him. He was going to her place—not as a partner, or a co-parent, but as the man who couldn’t let her slip away without trying again.

Soon he parked at the curb, but his eyes locked onto the unfamiliar car in the driveway—a sleek, gray sedan with barely a speck of dust on it, spotless and methodical, right down to the perfectly organized first aid kit he’d bet was in the trunk. His jaw clenched; it was the kind of car a physician would drive, safe and predictable. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy tightening in his chest, though he knew he had no right to feel it.

As he walked up to the door, each step felt heavier. This was her house, her space, but it was also the home he’d practically helped build for her, where they’d shared so many of their best memories from the beginning. Every corner had some part of him in it—repairs he’d done, furniture they’d chosen together, even the nursery they’d decorated with Maya’s favorite stars.

When Reader opened the door, he saw him. Dr. Andrew Collins, Maya’s pediatrician, was standing in the kitchen, laughing at something she’d said. Tall, fair-haired, with a neatly pressed button-up and an awkward but kind smile. Definitely on the nerdy side, Derek thought, sizing him up as quickly as he did suspects on a case. This guy looked like he’d rather read medical journals than hit the gym, and the sight only fueled Derek’s irritation.

“Uh, Derek—hey,” Reader greeted, “You remember Dr. Collins, right?”

The doctor cleared his throat,“Good to see you, Agent Morgan. I was just, um, checking in on Maya.”

“Funny, I don’t remember you taking house calls, Doc.”

“Oh, I just… Maya wasn’t feeling too well yesterday, so I thought I’d check on her.”

“Well isn't that thoughtful of you,” Derek replied, the forced smile never quite reaching his eyes.

“Well, I, uh… I should get going,” Dr. Collins said, backing toward the door. “It was nice to see you both.”

Derek gave him a nod, watching the doctor practically scramble for his keys and head out the door. Only after the door clicked shut did he finally turn back to Reader, letting out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Really, that guy?”

“Oh, please. You think I’d pick someone like you after you?

“Just can’t believe I’m seeing this,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the room. His gaze fell on the place he used to call home, where he’d learned the small things about her—like the way she liked to leave the lights dimmed in the living room when she read, or how she always made tea before bed. All of it was so familiar, and yet, it was now tainted with the presence of another man.

"Seeing what exactly, Derek?

“I mean, it’s only been a few months since you and I were… And now you’ve got him here, in our house?

"Our house? Really? It’s MY house now, Derek. You don’t get to just come back here and act like you still have ownership over everything.”

“I’m not saying I own it,” he shot back.

“You think this is about the house? You’re so damn obsessed with possessing everything, Derek.” She was breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling with each angry breath. “You really think I’m supposed to sit around, doing nothing with my life, completely alone, when you’re out there with Savannah, for whom in just a couple of months you’re ready for something real? Something different? Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

"This has nothing to do with Savannah! You don´t know what its lik to...

Reader’s eyes burned with a mixture of hurt and fury, her voice low but laced with venom. “You want to know what it’s like, Derek? It’s like spending every damn night alone with my daughter while you’re out with a woman who’s perfect for you. A woman who doesn’t make you fight every damn day just to make sense of things. I’ve had to play both roles, taking care of Maya, handling everything by myself, while you’re out there, getting swept up in the arms of a goddess that you fell for far quicker than you ever fell for me.”

Derek couldn't help it. The moment her words sank in—her thinking he could love anyone more than her—he laughed. It was a beautiful laugh, one filled with disbelief, but more than that, it was a laugh that said, How could you not see it?

Reader froze, confused. Her anger flared even more. “What the hell is so funny, Derek?” she demanded, her voice raw, her frustration bubbling over. “You think this is a joke?”

“No,” he said, still smiling, the joy in his chest making it hard to keep still. “It’s not a joke, baby. I’m just…” He shook his head, his smile growing, but there was no mocking tone. “I’m just happy. You really think I could ever love someone more than you?”

Reader’s face twisted in confusion, her chest rising and falling with the intensity of her emotions. “I don’t get it. You’re laughing at me—laughing at us—and you’re the one who…”

“Who what?” Derek interrupted, his tone soft but full of assurance. “Who thought a break would fix things?” He took a step closer to her, his expression steady now, his eyes never leaving hers. “That was my mistake, Y/N. No telling you how crazy we were for thinking that could make anything better. But I’m not making that mistake again.”

Before she could react, he reached out, sweeping her into his arms effortlessly. She gasped, her hands instinctively landing on his chest, her pulse racing as his strong arms wrapped around her. He held her close, close enough to feel the heat of her skin against his, and he lowered his forehead to hers, staring into her eyes.

“I’ve only known the arms of one goddess,” he whispered, his voice low, filled with emotion. “You. No one else, no matter how long or short the time I’ve spent with them, will ever compare to what I feel for you. Ever.”

“The only reason I even know what love is,” he said softly, his hands brushing along her jaw, “is because of you. The only way I know how to love, the only way I know how to be loved, is because of how I love you. No one else will ever show me what you’ve shown me. No one will ever make me feel what you do.”

Her hands moved up to cup his face, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw, memorizing the familiar shape of him.

“I don’t know how you don’t see it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how I can’t make you believe it, but I love you, Y/N. I always have. And I always will. You are my home. Always.”

“You wanna know something else?” he said, his voice low but steady. “I never once stopped thinking about you. Not for a second. Not when I was with her, not when I was busy, not when I was doing anything. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep. I spent so much damn time trying to figure out why things were so hard, but it was never about us not being able to make it work—it was about me being stupid enough to think I didn’t deserve you. To think I wasn’t enough.”

His eyes softened, and he looked at her as though she were the only thing in the world worth looking at. “But I am enough for you. And you’re everything I’ve ever needed. And if I have to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you, then that’s what I’ll do.

His hand slid down to her waist, his fingers tightening just enough to make her heart race. “I want to feel you, in every way I can, because I know that no matter how much time I get in this lifetime with you, it’ll never be enough. There’s a hunger, a need… a thirst for you that I can’t shake. And I don’t want to. I don’t want anyone else, not even for a second. I want this—I want you. I could take you, right here, right now, on this goodamn herringbone parquet floor that you had me isntall and put another beatiful baby in your belly, if you only say yes.

Reader’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his touch, and without another word, she reached up and captured his lips with hers. It was slow at first, hesitant, as though they were both savoring the moment they’d almost lost. But it quickly deepened, a hunger building between them, a desperate need to reconnect in every way they had been denied for so long.

His hands moved to her back, pulling her closer, until there was no space left between them. His kiss was intoxicating, passionate, raw—an expression of everything they had felt but never said. The desire, the love, the longing—it was all there in that kiss, as though they were trying to make up for every second they’d spent apart.

As they stood there, wrapped up in the moment, the sound of small footsteps echoed from the hallway. Maya, her little face peeking around the corner, looked up at them with wide eyes and a grin that could light up the room.

“Again” she asked, her voice hopeful and full of innocence. “Kiss?Again?”

Derek and Reader paused, both of them caught off guard for a moment, then burst into laughter. Maya giggled at the sight of them, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You wanna see us kiss again?” Derek asked, his voice playful, teasing as he raised an eyebrow at Reader.

“Yeah!” Maya answered excitedly, bouncing on her feet. "Mama Dadda kiss again, again !"

Reader smiled at Derek before leaning in to kiss him, slow and soft. When they pulled away, Maya clapped her hands with delight. “YAYAY” she squealed, then ran toward them, her arms outstretched.

Before either of them could react, she jumped into the space between them, giggling as they both pulled her into their arms. Derek scooped her up effortlessly, pressing kisses all over her face, while Reader covered her with affectionate pecks on the cheeks and forehead.

Now, what do you say we all get some breakfast?" Reader said, her voice light, her smile radiant as she picked Maya up.

Maya looked at her with a grin. “Waffles?”

“Waffles it is,” Derek said with a wink, following them as they all moved toward the kitchen.

And as they walked together, Derek and Reader’s hands brushed, and in that touch, they both knew—whatever came next, they had each other. And that was all they needed.

[nocturni3]

Bruce Wayne x male reader: Late Night worries

Tw: SFW, soft, comfort, missing Jason, Bruce Wayne inner turmoil, husband reader, slight angst, worrying parents, Tim being worried and frustrated, grief

There are things that a married couple will learn together. Be it giving each other their own space to express themselves, to support them in their struggles and hardships. And yet there is much you can’t learn from the other; something’s you must learn for yourself.

M/n had learned this throughout the years of being married to two different sides of his husband.

The billionaire ex playboy, prince of Gotham…and Batman, the dark knight, savor of Gotham. Both parts of Bruce Wayne as a whole; parts of Bruce that m/n loved. Be it his husband's confidence in showing the city of the good behind his endless pockets of cash. Repairing the city that through the years of the rogue gallery deemed as the prime battle ground to face off with Batman…with Bruce.

Or seeing the Justice his husband brought to Gotham; his endless crusade against crime families to crazed maniacs had M/n worry and prideful as he attended the galas Bruce couldn’t attend knowing his husband was doing far more important things.

And no matter how much he tried M/n couldn’t help but fear the worst every time his husband went out on patrol. Alfred had tried repeatedly to assure him of Bruce’s skills and complete capability to defend himself from the insane masked rogues and petty criminals of the city.

Yet none of the older man’s efforts had worked to ease M/n’s fears as he laid in their shared bed staring out into the stormy skies of Gotham city, staring out at the silhouette of the crime ridden city.

The massive mansion was always the coldest and lone year when Bruce was gone; the bed far too cold to fall asleep alone in, the once comforting silence became deafening.

Even with Barb,Tim and Alfred in the house aiding Batman in his missions wasn’t a comfort to M/n as he laid in the large plush bed alone once more.

Letting out a shaking breath M/n turned in the bed pulling one of the many untouched pillows to his chest, smothering his face into the clean case of Bruce’s pillow and yet there still managed to be a slight hint of his husband's cologne.

For years now M/n had only the reminders of his husband's smell to sleep too; at least until the early morning sun woke the couple up, both tangled in each other's limbs to start their morning together.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights…if felt just like the night Bruce got trapped on Arkham, and tonight felt worse. Throwing the blanket off from his sweating body M/n slipped on his slippers and night robes making his way to the living room. Switching on the TV to Gotham city news; pouring himself a small glass of bourbon as he stood watching the TV tirelessly.

“Can’t sleep like this; can’t keep worrying like this, he’s going to be fine, he’s always fine-“

-BREAKING NEWS! Billionaire Bruce Wayne thrown in Arkham City!-

🦇~~~~~~🦇

Alfred was in the kitchen finishing up washing the dishes from dinner when a loud sound of glass shattering erupted the once deathly silent manor.

Dropping the dish in his hand allowed it to fall and shatter as he ran to the source of the sound. Only to come across a scene he’s seen far too many times to count.

M/n Wayne on the floor grasping his mouth with one hand as his shoulders shook with each wrecking sob as the replay of Bruce’s ‘kidnapping’ played on the large flat screen. The glass of bourbon shattered and spread all around M/ns now bloodied hand.

“Master M/n! Sir your hand!”

Alfred rushed towards the sobbing wreck of a man. A man who was always withstanding so much from the emences fear that came with master Bruce’s attention being elsewhere as Batman. Fears that would shatter what little resolve would be left after each night.

Crouching to M/n’s level Alfred gently took hold of the shaking and bleeding hand; aiding m/n Wayne to the couch.

“Up you get master m/n, you didn’t get cut elsewhere sir?-“

“B-Bruce-“

Alfred’s eyes softened seeing the desperate look in those once shining e/c eyes. The worried lines that seemed to become a permanent placement. Alfred always knew things would get worse the farther Bruce delved into his crusade on crime in Gotham. That his mission would hurt those around them and it had. It all started with M/n then…Jason.

They lost a son be it through him simply running away or worse no one knew what happened to Jason only that he was gone and the mansion was far to quiet without his and master Dicks arguments during dinner over small differences in plans.

But looking away from the new outlet on Bruce Wayne being trapped in Arkham; Alfred knew as he patched the now cleaned wounds on master M/n’s hands that M/n was hanging on a rope of desperation as he listened to the new outlet speak on the low survival rates of Arkham city…the city with in the city filled with criminals.

“Master Bruce is quite capable of surviving in such a place master M/n; as we both know”

Sparing a glance up at the man in front of him, the bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin from the lack of sleep had M/n Wayne look more dead than alive with each passing major event like this very one.

“I-I know…but I know Bruce too. And that I know that man won’t simply leave; he’ll investigate which will only lead him deeper into danger-“

“That he will and yet we both know he will always find a way to make it through against all odds sir… would it make you feel more at ease if we both help master Bruce on his mission”

M/n would once in a while help his husband on his missions; give Barbara a break away to rest once in awhile. That was before nearly witnessing his husbands death far to many times.

And yet deep down M/n had to make sure Bruce was safe! That he was even still alive-

‘No he’s still alive damn it!’

Looking down at his well bandaged hand M/n watched as Alfred clean the shattered cup up as he awaited an answer.

“I think that’s a good idea…even if it’s just for a short while, can't let you deal with all the hard work now can I?”

Alfred let out a light hearted chuckle turning his body towards the nearest trash can then to M/n.

“Oh believe me master M/n I’ve handled far worse than master Bruce’s rather common nightly actives; though the help would be much appreciated for both our sakes after all I’m not getting any younger”

Smiling M/n tightened his robe against his body before turning the large flat screen off before following Alfred down to the batcave.

“What are you saying Alfred you’re as young as ever”

M/n joked looking over to the far older man who scoffed at his joke.

“We both know that’s a load of poppycock master m/n”

Laughing as they stepped out from the elevator m/n made his way to the bat computer grabbing one of the ear pieces.

“And Alfred this is why we love you, you don’t take shot from no body”

M/n smiled as Alfred took a seat next to him, his fatherly energy filling the cold cave.

“Well I wouldn’t be a very good butler if I did now what I”

“Oh I don’t know your fighting and medical skill would’ve made up for it, alright let’s get started looks like Bruce is…of course he’s getting into a fight with Cobblepot”

🦇~~~~🦇

“So Brucey I see I can’t leave you alone for a night without you getting into life threatening trouble now can I?”

Upon hearing his husband’s joking voice Bruce nearly slipped during his climb up to the Ace chemical building. Before regaining his grip, scoffing as he spoke.

“Oh I would’ve thought you’d get used to my troubling behavior by now”

“Haha, I have…until recently I mean there was the black gate break, than Arkham asylum, now Arkham city I’m seeing a pattern of places and galas I’ve gotta keep your batty self from”

Laughing Bruce pulled himself on top of the roof looking out over the chaos that was ‘Arkham City’.

“Now where’s the fun in that, besides we both know I can’t just let these people run free. Let alone be placed practically in the middle of Gotham”

M/n smiled upon hearing the passion in Bruce’s voice, the strong morality of his husband and the love he had for the city of Gotham. The kind of love and passion he showed M/n in his protective and loving nature out in public or in their manor.

Yet a part of M/n knew there was far more to Bruce’s more protective nature… to a point that M/n couldn’t help his thoughts from drifting to the missing member of their family…Jason.

Ever since Jason had gone missing; practically vanished off the face of the earth had Batman work non-stop in his crime fighting and his search for the second member of their family of crime fighters. Bruce never forgave himself for Jason going missing, blaming himself for the fight they had before Bruce suited up to take Joker back into Arkham.

And argument M/n had to get in the middle of, it was the last night he spoke to the kid he considered as much his son as any one of Bruce’s adopted sons. And yet this sort of lose had the couple continuing their circle of non-stop fearing for their other half's safety.

More reason why both couldn’t stop the other in their duties. Batman was needed in this crime ridden city the two called home. Gotham but even more so Bruce needed Batman, needed a reason to hope for better.

“That’s putting things mildly; after all, me and Alfred have been looking through the schematics and radio channels and it’s all referring to a ‘Protocol 10’. Sent what data I could grab before the firewalls caught on to Barb…Bruce Tim could be a-“

“No”

Sighing M/n looked over to Tim who was in his Robin uniform upon hearing the news, ending his patrols to check on his tired father.

“Bruce we both know I could help you-“

“I said no Jason! I’m sorry it’s just-“

“Just something you have to do yourself yeah I get it; aye pops I’m heading back out call me when…you know”

Nodding m/n smiled sadly to Tim who’s own worried eyes stared at the bags that sat heavy under his pops e/c eyes. As Tim left the batcave to silence was nearly deafening if it weren’t for the few stray bats flying over head.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“I know babe, Tim knows too”

Alfred took this opportunity to go make them some tea for the long night ahead. Leaving the couple alone on call as Batman read over the few documents on encrypted documents M/n had found.

“He reminds me of him sometimes…always pushing, always-“

“Stubborn, headstrong, always willing to push your buttons to get any mission, training, or patrols you can give him?”

“Yeah”

A mournful silence filled the batcave as the couple focused on the work of the impending arrival of yet another long, exhausting night of crime fighting and investigative work.

“Brucey…at some point whether or not we want to admit it…Tim isn’t a kid anymore…he’s not weak, and at some point you have to let Robin spread his wings”

Bruce knew that everything his husband said was true; no matter how they felt Tim wasn’t Jason…Jason was gone; missing or dead for all they knew he could’ve just took off and didn’t look back. Tim wasn’t some kid anymore, he was trained by the best, his future looked bright even past being a crime fighter.

Sighing Batman took off towards the courthouse, the best place to start his investigation was to ask the best thief in Gotham.

“Tell Robin to keep his coms open to any calls of backup…if this nights anything to go off of right now…there more going on here”

Smiling as Alfred handed him his tea , M/n smiled at the screen of countless radio channels between the TIGER guards.

“It’s going to be one long night; be careful, l don’t want Tim to have to bring you back home in a body bag”

“ that’s not going to happen, I’ll make sure if it…love you”

“Love you too…going on stand by”

I hope you all liked a small taste of this one shot! I’ve loved the Arkham series ever since I first played it! Best games ever shocked there aren’t many of the Arkham series based oneshot out there hope I did a good job for the first of many in this new hyper-fixation of mine!

[happyely2]

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: For everyone, this time there will be only a slight hint of the Smut, very very light.

Summary: 31 prompts for 31 days of October. Life on Moby Dick is always hectic and has become more so since Ace boarded this ship and became part of the family.

✒️Prompts taken from the contest (even if I don't participate) organized by the Italian Fanwriter page. I only translated the prompts into English, I hope you like it.✒️

🌊Writober PumpSea🌊 #day 7 - South

The southern route was so quiet that you had to stir it up a bit, and Ace had half an idea that made your mouth water when you felt his presence behind you, by now you had learned to know well.

Ace hugged you from behind and left a kiss on your neck that meant one thing.

You smiled for those sudden cuddles, but for once you were granted, in essence the situation was quiet on the ship, there was no enemy on the horizon and even your fellow travelers seemed to be calm and taken by their chores: Izo read the newspaper, Satch locked himself in the kitchen in order to experiment with a new recipe, while Marco was helping in the infirmary. The other commanders played cards, or chess or arm wrestling and White Beard participated in their challenges and enjoyed the tranquility of the day.

Going south meant peace and quiet. And for once, you all deserved it after the previous weeks when you didn’t have any breaks, repairs to do, aid allies, rescue friendly ships and fight the Marines.

It had been hectic weeks in which you had slept yes and no a total of ten hours and in which you and Ace were separated for too long, to optimize the time you were sent with Satch to solve problems, while Marco, Ace and Izo were sent somewhere else.

Not seeing you for so long created a tension between your two bodies that you absolutely had to eliminate.

"Shall we go to my cabin?" Ace whispered to you as he slowly dragged you to his room.

"I don’t think they’ll notice we’re gone." You responded by backing up with him, or rather you knew that White Beard would catch you, but the old man was very often your accomplice and covered for you most of the time you disappeared. You were his favorite couple and you had brought so much joy on the ship, a joy that had been lost in time, sometimes your father looked at you with a nostalgic look and a bitter smile and did not know why.

Sooner or later, you were gonna talk to him about what he thought when he looked at you.

So you disappeared without too much ceremony, but you couldn’t resist and you crawled into the library, making sure the door was locked and nobody was there.

You didn’t expect Ace’s urge to look for your lips and kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

Ace grabbed your ass and put you on a shelf full of books, and he didn’t stop kissing you.

And you have reciprocated that kiss that you so desired in recent times.

You bit his lips and tasted their softness and she sucked greedily, making him moan with pleasure.

Ace started unbuttoning your shirt until a suspicious noise brought you back to reality.

"If it’s Satch, I’m gonna roast him this time." Ace said as he squeezed at you and waited for another sound, by now Satch had the radar to interrupt you at the least opportune moments - not that he would come looking for you on purpose, but he would always catch you and you couldn’t understand how it was possible.

Another blow stronger than the first left you puzzled.

Because the route was south and had to be quiet.

"Whatever it is, they’re all grown-ups who can get by without us." When you were aboard the Moby Dick, it wasn’t easy to cuddle, not with all the big brothers asking for your help on something, not with Ace running the second fleet, not with the thin walls dividing the cabins.

Both you and he agreed to try not to embarrass everyone, but even abstinence was felt after weeks of plenty and a quickie would not solve anything and there was not even how to wait to get off the ground, The next island for supplies was three weeks' sailing.

So Ace caught you kissing and opening the shirt you were wearing while you were fiddling with his belt. Her hair was on your head, you don’t know how, and both laughed and between caresses, stolen kisses and some bites here and there.

The third suspicious blow had not bothered you so much, they could also organize a fight upstairs but Ace did not care because he was engaged in a much more profitable and important battle.

There were priorities in her life and loving and making love to you were at the top of the list.

"Have you started wearing more bra without cups?" Ace noticed your new underwear, a soft lace bra in lilac color this time.

"I don’t really get the old ones anymore." You answered by licking Adam’s apple.

"Then I’ll have to buy you new ones." Ace replied between sighs. Oh my God, what you were seeing was beautiful. Ace’s muscles tensed to your touch, contracting and highlighting everything and his cock grinding against your groin made you daydream.

Besides, the bookstore was a new place you hadn’t done it yet.

A shock knocked you both out when you were about to continue. Ace locked you with his body to prevent you from falling to the ground, the books were still on the shelf you were sitting on.

"What are they doing?" Now you couldn’t take it anymore, there must be something that didn’t add up because the noise started to feel, and it was too close.

Then the library door was kicked in, and by the bang, you hooked up to Ace like a Koala.

"What are you doing here!" Satch was challenging another pirate in a sword fight to the death.

"What are you doing here!" You blurted out in less than half a second looking crooked at the man who was facing your older brother. You weren’t worried about Satch, nor was Ace, he would have beaten him in a few moves.

"Did we interrupt a quickie?" Satch was laughing under his mustache as he stood up to his opponent.

"Satch." Ace’s tone didn’t allow for replicas or even his gaze. The brown man winked at you and started fighting again, then threw the man out the window, "More are coming." He added, preparing for the incoming enemies: "Unfortunately they broke the door." He added by grinning and throwing himself back into the fray.

Further on you heard the shots of Izo’s guns and other enemies coming towards the library.

"Good God, you can’t even have a little privacy!" You blurted it out with your face in Ace’s chest.

"Come on, let’s go knock some enemies out and then no one will bother us anymore." Your boyfriend told you when he punched a man who was about to attack you.

"But I say, there is a code of manners." You said pouting while Ace walked away from the gun, you were still in his lap, and you didn’t want to get out. Ace squeezed you with his free arm while with the other he hit enemies that came towards you.

"What do you want me to tell you love, not everyone is a polite pirate." He told you by knocking out two more people and then using his Haki to knock them out ten more.

He wasn’t happy about being interrupted either, not after you both got into the mood.

Or they’d pay for it.

You came down from Ace when you climbed on the bridge and a sigh of exasperation came out seeing all the amount of enemies that were attacking you, many but small fish.

If only he was strong.

White Beard laughed at the show and if he did not intervene he meant that those who were attacking were really small fish, but maybe he wanted to enliven that quiet day.

"I could go to Dad and play burraco with him." You said as you walked across the main bridge ignoring the enemies present. Ace was behind you, "It won’t take long, I’ll catch up with you later, honey." He said, leaving your hat and throwing himself into the fray.

Ace wasn’t even using his devil fruit, just punches and kicks that would knock out a bison.

"Dad, who’s attacking us?"

"We ran into an enemy fleet treasure, but don’t worry soon calm will return." The old man answered you as you sat on his knee to see the fight better.

"Whoa, always fighting." You said pouting and making your father laugh.

"At least in your time the enemies were strong, these are sardines and fish read." You said laughing again. White Beard loved your frankness and candor.

"In my day we had more respect, more discipline and more determination." The man agreed by drinking his favorite sake.

"It offends me that you think this of my subordinates, they were recruited recently but at least appreciate the courage." An unknown voice had made you turn and the fight had been stopped abruptly. A man was floating in midair, instead of his legs there were two swords and a piece of rudder was embedded in his head.

Marco is perched on your father’s throne and gradually all the other commanders have arrived.

"I heard you were coming south and I took the liberty of a small welcoming committee." He said the man continuing to float and addressing directly to White Beard. You came down and approached Ace, there was something about that man you didn’t like at all.

"Shiki the golden lion." You whispered to your boyfriend, Ace took your hand and looked at the enemy, you could feel from his warmth that was tense, for sure his not Garp had talked to him about the man in front of you. In the past, his father Roger and his crew had faced him several times.

Shiki was an unpredictable man, he valued both Roger and White Beard but he had never existed to attack them when he had the opportunity, ruthless and cruel.

There was a rumour that he had escaped from Impel Down, but there had been no news of him for years. To find it before your eyes was something absurd.

Izo was close to you and Ace, the guns still in his hand and held tightly. None of the commanders had left their weapons and at that point you wondered what would happen.

The man was part of the older generation of pirates who had terrorized the seas before you and his fame, his thirst for power and his irascible character preceded him by pointing out how dangerous he was.

Ace stood before you when the gaze of the Golden Lion rested on you.

"So she’s the baby you found on this route." And the Golden Lion laughed.

White Beard had it in his eye, Ace had activated his flames, and you had to keep him from screwing up.

You knew you were found in a chest 18 years ago, and you never cared to find out why, but knowing that man knew you was something that upset you.

"Newborn not so much, now she is a young woman." He continued to speak your opponent by going down on the bridge and walking towards you.

"I don’t want to do anything to her." Shiki turned to Ace.

"Ace..." A warning from Dad, who partly reassured you and partly upset you. If Dad allowed him to get close to you, he meant one thing, one wrong step and Shiki the Golden Lion would lose his life.

Ace moved, even though he stood by you and didn’t back much.

"You remind me so much of an acquaintance of ours many years ago." He said the man take a lock of your light hair and drop it right after.

"Do it again and you’ll burn this time." Ace’s tone was filled with anger, and a shiver descended down your spine. All the other commanders were tense.

"Portuguese Commander..." A call that had illuminated Shiki’s eyes.

"Portuguese... yes, there can be no doubt about it." Shiki laughed, a laugh that no one was sharing. Ace was tense and you were no different, if that man had said one word against Ace’s mother you would have jumped him. Legend or no legend, he wouldn’t dare say a word.

"Newgate you really found the copy of Roger and Rouge. Boy you have the same murderous look of your father, you look so much like him!" And Ace had tended even more to hear the names of his parents and the comparison that had been made.

Izo tried to calm him down but couldn’t.

"The welcome committee is not the best, you should review some etiquette." You said interrupting the man’s laugh. Satch held his breath and Marco prepared to intervene.

Ace had clenched his fists and the flames that you saw with the corner of your eye did not wish anything good.

Shiki stopped laughing and looked at you for a second, grinning.

Bastard.

"Oh, you remember her not only in appearance, but also in character. Rouge was the only woman who feared none of Roger’s enemies." He said the Golden Lion chewing the cigar in his mouth.

Ace used his devil’s fruit, the cigar burst Shiki’s face and the man laughed.

"Jealous like your father. I don’t know if you’re capable of razing an entire island though, Roger did it for Rouge once."

"Ace is not his father!" You blurted out your way to the enemy, "If you’ve come here just to talk about the old days, review your ruddy manners." You said electrocuting him.

"You..."

A blaze of fire had come between you and Shiki, the man had withdrawn to avoid the flames of Ace.

"Oh, that murderous look! You two could do great things, join my crew."

"NEVER" You and Ace yelled.

And Shiki grinned and laughed.

"I’m not going to have a fight with you today, White Beard. But know that those two boys I took will be mine." And then White Beard had taken his Taglianuvole against Shiki. Moby Dick shook with a gash, and Ace grabbed you before he fell.

"Enough now!" He had thundered White Beard with his voice and starting to hit Shiki: "You would never have my children."

Shiki dodged several shots and floated in the air, calling his men to himself.

"You won’t be able to protect them forever Newgate." And as he appeared, he was gone.

Only then did you breathe a sigh of relief, but you didn’t leave Ace’s side for anything.

You could feel your soft legs and your head spinning.

"And you had to see them in your golden days." Satch said as he sat next to you to defuse the tension. All the other commanders nodded and laughed before going to check on their subjects.

Ace sighed heavily before leaning on you. He hated when compared to his father, but this time nothing bad had been said about him.

Mark had joined you and offered you a hand to get up: "In golden times, as Satch says, the battle would be raging for weeks and you had to see Roger." He said Marco dragging you and Ace to the library where you two were interrupted.

White Beard smiled bitterly and was headed to see the damage the ship had suffered.

You took Ace’s hand to calm him down.

Everyone on the ship knew that it was a painful speech of his family, but you were sure that Marco knew what he was doing, he was among the greatest and among those who had sailed the longest with Dad.

"I remember the time Rouge was captured, Roger and Dad had met on an island to discuss the problem of the fish men, and an opposing crew had thought that this would get Roger." Said Marco opening an old photo album and starting to browse it.

"Oh they never did." Izo said taking the photo that portrayed the enemies on the ground with the crews of Roger and White Beard winning.

"My God, Ace, this is your father!" You said looking closely at the photo, Roger was holding Rouge in his arms and smiling victoriously at his crew.

"I don’t know what the fire boy told you, but they loved each other very much." He said Satch took more photos of a party and Ace’s mom dancing in one with Roger and another with White Beard.

"I’ve never seen her in pictures."

Ace took Rouge’s picture and looked at it carefully with you.

"You took his freckles." You said, pointing out the detail: "And I think the cut of his eyes." You added by ripping out a smile.

"Here are many photos, in that period we sailed together for a long time and all of us can tell you that your father was crazy, crazy, adrenaline and lover of adventures, but he loved your mother so much. I’ve never seen a feeling like there was between them. " Satch had dragged you into a suffocating embrace, and both you and Ace were protesting for respite. Oh, when he was playing big brother.

Izo laughed with Marco and then his eyes fell on a picture of Roger and Rouge together and he couldn’t help but notice the resemblance to the two of you, even Roger used to wear his hair, first straw and then captain’s, on Rouge’s head during a fight.

"And your mother, oh boy was the only one who could get both crews to leave." The voice of White Beard had joined you and you had smiled, beginning to understand a little that nostalgic joy that had invaded his eyes when you and Ace had told him you were engaged.

Ace was incredulous at what he was feeling, you could well imagine the whirlwind of emotions that was passing through his mind as you went into his cabin.

You had talked a lot and seen many photos.

And now you were lying on the bed, the album on Ace’s bedside table, the two of you with no clothes and you on Ace.

"Your mother was a beautiful woman." You said as you caressed her chest slowly.

"I had never seen her in pictures, I knew she was a beautiful woman but it’s strange..." She said Ace while stroking your hair and playing with your locks.

"Strange what?" You asked, stroking his chin and playing with his adam’s apple.

"It’s strange to know that they loved each other and that... that my dad wasn’t actually an asshole who got her pregnant and got himself caught right after." You had perceived the tone full of anxiety of Ace and with a caress you invited him to continue talking: "Garp always spoke to me as a marine, but he had never said those things or made me see photos. Now I feel like I don’t know who I am." Ace said stroking your back with his warm palm.

"I know who you are." You said lightly and shoving your elbows on the mattress. Ace looked at you perplexed and you smiled at him lovingly.

"You’re Portuguese D. Ace." You said kissing him on the lip. Ace laughed in the kiss and squeezed you, harpooning your flesh with his fingers.

"You’re the man I love, and that’s good enough for me." You said sitting on him, Ace lifted his torso, and he didn’t stop squeezing your butt. He kissed you, because at that point words were no longer needed among you.

You could feel his heart beating strong, following the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Your tongues danced among them, constantly searching for each other in a kiss that forced you to take oxygen for how intense it was.

More kisses followed as Ace entered you and began to push without respite.

You held on to him, and you let your instincts guide you.

You didn’t object when Ace had you placed on the mattress, you opened your legs better to welcome it all inside you. And he smothered his pleasure as he bit your breasts.

You bit his shoulder so as not to scream when you went back to being on him and started fighting back at his push, until you were both seized with satisfaction.

Three hours later you were lying on the bed again, drenched in sweat with a crumpled sheet to cover you and with your breath short and your pulse racing.

Ace’s lips leaving a kiss on your forehead kept you from falling asleep right away.

"The South route won’t be as quiet as it used to be." Ace said, starting to play with your locks of hair. He was right, the appearance of Shiki meant only one thing, the old systems had started to move.

Your eyes were full of sleep and exhaustion, which is why you fell asleep under Ace’s caresses.

Your boyfriend noticed it and smiled, he decided not to wake up because of the worries there was still time and enjoying your relaxed face was a vision he would never give up.

Ace looked at the picture of his parents, the one you had put inside a frame, and smiled bitterly, he did not know the details of their love story, but of one thing he was sure he would never give up on you to pursue an ideal or a dream.

He would not have done as his father, maybe he had even gone away to protect his beloved, but Ace would never have acted like that, on the contrary he would have fought until his fire had gone out.

And he would burn the world for you.

The route south had become more dangerous, but he didn’t care, Ace had you by his side.

[copperbadge]

Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Long one this week so I've broken out giving into two segments, "Personal" for individuals needing help and "Organization" for orgs that are fundraising.

Ways to Give, Personal:

mousedetective has been homeless since January; until recently she was in a safe parking program with her mother and trans daughter, but is now in need of safe housing and has been divided from her family, plus can't save when they're having to pay for short-term housing. They have a number of ways to give and an Amazon wishlist for supplies available; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or give via KoFi here.

Anon linked to a fundraiser for sobeautifullyobsessed, who has been homeless for some time and is raising funds to secure even temporary housing; she often has to sleep in her breakroom at work for the warmth. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or give via KoFi here.

Anon linked to a fundraiser for fatiguesupreme, who is facing eviction with her mother and needs help to fund a move as soon as possible; they have had to pay for car repairs and been unable to work without their car, and are just now getting back to work doing food delivery. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or give via KoFi here.

risingtograce linked to a fundraiser for a close friend, Erin, who was recently hit by a bus; they are currently in recovery and need to raise funds for living expenses while they are unable to work, plus medical bills. You can read more and share on Facebook here or give at GoFundMe here.

localdorkincombatboots is raising funds for help with bills, medical expenses, and housing for them and their family after several financial blows; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

winteryserpent has had to take unpaid time off for illness, and is behind on bills; he's working again but struggling with bills and anxiety over bills, including an overdrawn bank account and a late internet bill. You can read more and give at GoFundMe here.

like-the-midnight-sun is a queer, multiply disabled Jewish conversion student; she and her wife, also queer and Jewish, are currently living in the US, are trying to move somewhere safer, and are fundraising for an international move to Norway. You can read more and give at GoFundMe here.

Ways to Give, Organization:

mxbuster linked to No Surrender, an Ottawa-based pet rescue which is raising funds for community support; they've collected dog coats that are being distributed to community members through a mutual-aid and food-sharing kitchen, and have the opportunity to buy bulk cold-weather clothing for dogs if they can raise $450. You can read more and find giving information at Facebook here.

melayneseahawk linked to Worlds Elsewhere Theatre Company, a socially distant and socially responsible digital theater which is going into its fourth season; their 2024 fundraiser is about to begin, and in the meantime they have several ways to support the theater one-off or on an ongoing basis. Giving supports production expenses, paying cast and crew, and fees for things like maintaining their nonprofit status legally. You can read more and give to the theatre here.

Recurring Needs:

mid-nighttiger linked to a fundraiser for a friend, Katherine, a cosplayer (501st and Rebel Legion, among others) who was in a serious car accident and has had a gofundme set up for her medical expenses; you can read more and reblog Mid-Nighttiger's post here or support the fundraiser here.

chingaderita's partner's family house recently caught fire and completely burned, killing his grandmother and causing extensive property loss; they're raising funds in part to help support their partner, who is understandably in a bad place emotionally and has since last week been laid off from his job. They're also in need of money for medications. You can read more, reblog, and support the fundraiser here.

rilee16 is raising funds to cover utilities after having to use bill money to cover rent and late fees; Rilee also needs to be able to pay for medication. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

gwydion's very elderly car broke down in late October; the repair, to a cooling hose, has cheap parts but expensive labor, and ate most of zir budget for the month. Ze can't do without a car, being disabled, but can't afford to replace it either; ze's raising $280 to help cover bills and the repair. You can give via PayPal here.

gwydion linked to a fundraiser for Squirrel, a good friend who has recently lost his job and needs to raise about $800 to cover bills and food; Squirrel has had a lot of interviews and believes he will have an offer but won't start work until December. You can give via paypal here.

gwydion linked to a fundraiser for a friend, whose dog Rosie needs medical care, dental work, and special food; you can read more and give here at gofundme.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

[sainamoonshine]

Okay look. Here's the thing.

When a crisis situation occurs, the best and more effective way you can handle it is to prioritize. And the most annoying and also most dangerous thing you can do is skip steps in the intervention process.

Let's say that the kitchen stove just caught on fire. Here is the logical and safe way of handling the emergency:

Step 1: Remove victims, bystanders and other people at risk from the scene.

Grab the person who was standing in front of the stove and whose arm got burned and pull them away from the flames. Make sure nobody else sticks their hand on there; also physically pull them away if need be, or at the very least give them a clear warning not to go close.

Step 2: Stop the present, immediate danger / prevent the situation from turning worse (AKA secure the area)

Put out the fire. Turn off the gaz and take the pans away from the burners so nothing ELSE catches on fire while you're not looking. If the whole house is starting to catch on fire and you evaluate that it's way above your pay grade / that trying to put out that fire will put you in way too much danger, then evacuate the victim and everyone else far enough away that you are no longer in immediate risk of death or injury.

Yes this step goes before seeing to the victim's burns (unless their arm is currently on fire, in which case stop that fire first thing before seeing to the rest of the scene). Your priority is to ensure you do not get injured/killed while you are rendering assistance, and therefore securing the area is the priority.

If one other person is around, one can secure the area while the other sees to the victim. If two other people are around, then the third person can call for help.

Step 3: Stabilize the victim (AKA prevent the situation from turning worse part 2)

Do whatever first aid is needed so the victim doesn't get worse while you call for help.

Step 4: Evaluate the situation to determine if help is needed + Call for help if necessary

Decide if the victim is burned badly enough that you need help with this, either by calling an ambulance, driving them to the hospital, or asking someone else to come over and help you treat them. If the whole house is still burning behind you, obviously call for help with that too. But in this scenario let's say it was just a kitchen fire and we put it out earlier.

Step 5: The victim(s) gets seen to

Get the victim whatever medical assistance is necessary, make sure to make the rounds with everyone else who was on the scene to make sure they're okay too or if they need something. Maybe they have minor burns themselves or need a good cry. Maybe YOU need a good cry.

Step 6: Post-danger situation handling begins now. Make sure everyone continues being safe while we deal with the aftermath and that "dealing with the aftermath" doesn't end up causing its own form of harm

Find an temporary way to make sure everyone is fed while we deal with the damage to the kitchen. Make sure the victim continues receiving care. Step 7: Clean up the messes that would prevent you from seeing the situation clearly or assessing the true damages

Open the windows to clear out smoke from the kitchen, clean up the soot covering everything

Step 8: Figure out what the fuck happened

Gather testimonies from witnesses, and investigate the kitchen setup to figure out how the fire happened

Step 9: Come up with a plan to make sure it doesn't happen again, or that if it does then stopping the problem is quicker / safer / more efficient

Institute new safety rules in the kitchen, figure out a safer way to arrange the layout so the stove isn't directly under the curtains, decide to switch from gaz to induction, buy a fire extinguisher for the kitchen, if this is a restaurant maybe train the staff better, whatever.

Step 10: Figure out how to repair what has been damaged with your new safety plan in mind

Don't buy a new stove to replace the broken one before you've figured out how the fire happened and how to make it not happen again is what I am saying. Don't get new cupboards installed before you've finished deciding whether you're changing the kitchen layout or not.

Step 11: Make the changes happen.

In comparison, what you SHOULDN'T do:

while the fire is still burning and the cook is clutching their arm and yelling in pain, plant yourself in the middle of the fucking door and loudly complain that we need to renovate the kitchen, and prevent anybody from going into or leaving the kitchen to deal with the fucking fire until they have agreed on your kitchen renovation plan. Immediately start trying to swap out the curtains with better, slightly more fire-proof ones. While the fire on the stove continues to spread. Refuse to move so the cook can retreat from the room and get huffy when they yell at you because they are being emotional 🙄 while you are a bastion of calm and logic. Snatch the phone out of your friend's hands and hang up on the firemen while you explain that putting out the fire would only be a stopgap solution and also they would mess up the kitchen with their hoses, and can't you see that this would make everything slightly more annoying and less tidy. Clearly what we need is a permanent solution, ugh, why can't everybody see that. Be immediately clocked as actively contributing to the danger on the scene by the first responders when they arrive, and be forcefully removed while still arguing about everybody else not focusing on the long-term vision.

[scribbles97]

Do Better

Oh look... Scribbs is back and writing Thunderbirds again that isn't the mammoth Lucy fic as you may have seen I rewatched the '04 film last night and inspiration struck the muse and, well, this happened...

Read on Ao3

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Alan had asked about his mother aboard Thunderbird Two, but in the moment it had caught Jeff off guard. Given everything that the Hood had put them through that day, all the snide comments and remarks he had made about their organisation, Jeff would have likely seen it coming eventually. He just would have liked to have recovered from their rough re-entry to earth and the damage caused to their home first.

Had he had the chance to mull over the day as a whole, he’d have likely seen the question coming, perhaps even been able to pre-empt it. Instead, it had been over a week and nothing more had been said in relation to Lucy.

He had asked John about it quietly, when the others had been away to their beds and he had bumped into the second eldest hunting down extra painkillers in the kitchen. A long overdue conversation had followed, how they all missed their mother but had been too fearful of hurting one another to ever say much about her. Alan had never really known her, and it had taken Jeff himself a long time to even look back at the photos that decorated his desk, the other four had marked the subject taboo and Jeff had never even noticed.

It was a testament to his and John’s relationship that he hadn’t blinked when Jeff had called him out on his comment about ‘doing a great job’ the night Alan had arrived home for spring break. Instead his fellow astronaut had laughed with a slight wince as his ribs had protested, before explaining that he had known what Jeff had needed to hear that night, and it hadn’t been criticism of his parenting style.

What it also hadn’t apparently been, was a lie, John had quickly assured.

“We should talk about her more.” Had been his closing comment when he had risen to his feet to head to his room, the hint too strong for Jeff to really ignore.

He hadn’t gone to bed that night, instead hunting through storage boxes that he had never been sure about opening back up.

It had taken him another week to find the right time, between repairing the damage caused by the Hood and filing reports to the appropriate authorities; the moment had never seemed right to bring up something that had laid dormant for so long.

The bruises were mostly healed though, and the house mostly back to normal, the parts for repairing the hangars and Thunderbird Five would take a few more weeks to arrive, but that was the least of Jeff’s worries given all they had been through. He had planned to bring it up after the barbeque, once they had all settled out on the pool deck with their newly fledged members.

As always though, the world had other ideas.

A request for aid after a space shuttle launch had gone awry had seen all the boys away from home late into the night, and all plenty exhausted by the time they had made it back home.

It hadn’t been until well into the next afternoon that he had bumped into Alan in the hallway between their rooms,

“Alan, you got a minute?”

His eyes immediately went wide as he gaped, “I didn’t—“

Jeff shook his head, holding up both hands, it was so like the kid to assume that something was wrong, that he had done something wrong. He knew it was down to how he had parented the kid over the last few years, sending him away to private school and ignoring the loud and clear cries for attention that Alan had so desperately needed.

“You did a great job out there yesterday,” He assured quickly, reaching out to catch the kid’s shoulder, “but that’s not what this is about.”

“It’s… not?”

Jeff paused, suddenly very aware of how badly he could read Alan’s expression, “Did something happen out there that wasn’t discussed at debrief?”

The kid gaped, eyes still panicked as he clearly tried to figure out just how to explain, “I-- it wasn’t--”

None of them had said anything in the early hours as they had quickly run through a debrief, Virgil had sung Alan’s praises in his co-piloting aboard Two with next to no snark aimed towards the youngest.

“I told Virgil his approach to the viewing platform was the wrong angle, he told me not to distract him when he was dealing with the cross-winds.”

Jeff paused for a moment, thinking through the implications and trying to figure out what Alan wasn’t telling him, “Did he listen to you?”

Alan shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. You’re part of this team now kid, your opinion matters too and we all need to learn to respect that.” He reached out to clasp his other shoulder, “I’m sorry we’ve not been better at listening to you.”

Alan gaped again, words not forming for a long moment before he simply looked down to the floor.

Jeff swallowed and took his moment, “What I wanted to talk to you about was your Mom, you made me realise the other week that I’ve not shared her with you anywhere near enough.”

“I didn’t mean--” He looked up quickly, “Scott always said it hurt too much to talk about her.”

“It did.” He admitted softly, “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t. I dug out some old photos and videos if you wanted to take a look?”

Alan’s smile was soft in a way that was all Lucy as he looked up to Jeff, “Can I?”

“I’ll even tell you some stories if you’d like?” He smiled back, “On one condition though?”

It hurt that his face fell so quickly back into fear.

“I want to know what’s been going on at school and why you’re so desperate to not go back.”

The hallway wasn’t really the place for such a conversation, not with how Alan was reacting to every question Jeff found himself asking. Jeff didn’t doubt that anyone passing through could easily break the moment and cause Alan to brush everything off as fine.

As far as Jeff was concerned, things hadn’t been fine for a long while.

“Nobody understands me there.” Alan mumbled, his eyes dropping to the carpet again, “Everyone there thinks I’m just a spoiled kid who’s billionaire family doesn’t have time for. They don’t know me, not really.”

There was fire in the end of his words, the way his fists clenched at his sides telling Jeff it was a long bore frustration that had simmered under the surface for long enough.

“Do you think there’s any truth in that?”

He almost feared the answer.

“I--” Alan looked up, anger flickering in his features that was as obvious as his mother’s always had been, before it faded, “You’re all so busy with the business and International Rescue, it’s okay, I get it.”

“But you’re my kid.” He found himself countering before he could really put any thought into it, “What’s going on in your life is always going to be important to me. Why do you think I came running when I heard about the fire at Dunbar?”

Alan shrugged, a heavy sigh pulling his shoulders further down as he looked around the hallway, anywhere but at Jeff.

“I thought you were mad.”

And he had been.

But he’d also been scared.

“I was.” He admitted, “But only once I knew you were safe.”

“I didn’t mean for it to explode.”

There was a wobble in the kid’s voice that Jeff hadn’t been privy to for years.

“I know you didn’t, kid.” He sighed, catching his chin, waiting for him to look back at him, “And I’m sorry I’ve not been better at talking to you.”

For letting every shrugged comment about school slide, for not listening when he was screaming for help, for not being there to talk when he should have been.

“Come here.” Jeff sighed, offering a hug that Alan gladly accepted.

He wasn’t sure when the youngest had gotten so tall or when his shoulders had filled out quite so much, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still hold onto him like the little boy he once had been.

“I’m going to do better, I promise you that Alan.”

Neither acknowledged as he clung on tighter to Jeff’s t-shirt, both just taking the moment for what it was and savouring it.

If Alan heard John slip out of his room, he didn’t acknowledge it, the second eldest only paused long enough to send a knowing look in Jeff’s direction like he had known all along that some bridges needed mending. Jeff didn’t put it past him, he’d always been intelligent like that.

“Can we go and look at those photos now?” Alan asked as he pulled back, swiping at his nose as he did.

Jeff smiled, “Absolutely.”

There would still be repairs to be made, branches to be offered across a chasm that had grown too wide, but it was a start. He knew he’d fail again, probably sooner than he would like to, but he was willing to learn and to do his best.

For himself, his boys, and his wife, Jeff Tracy would do better.

[darling-archeron]

Happy Holidays to @charliespringsleftconverse!! I had so much fun writing this fic for @acotargiftexchange and getting to know you better. You said you were having a bit of a rough year, and I hope this fic can help a tiny bit! Thank you for being so patient, I hope the wait will have been worth it. This fic will be divided into four chapters, with updates on Tuesdays!

Many months have passed since the end of the War, but not all wounds have healed. Repairs, both emotional and physical, are still underway. When Feyre finally finds a break in her schedule, she feels duty-bound to visit the one place she thought she’d never return to: her old village. With Rhys by her side, she takes a trip through old memories.

Rated T, 2.6k words | Masterlist | Fic Masterlist

-

Feyre stood before her wardrobe, blankly staring at the rows of garments before her.

Today was…more difficult than she had expected.

Her options blurred before her. So many pieces, the simplest of them finer than anything she had worn in poverty as a human. A bolt of fabric from the finest could have fed her family for months, back then.

She was only picking out clothes. It shouldn’t have been difficult.

Cauldron, what was wrong with her? She thought she had moved past this long ago. She had never mourned her human life to the extent that her sisters had. She didn’t miss that small village and all the misery that lingered there.

However, that didn’t mean her heart would let her abandon it. She still wanted to help.

The task looming before her should have been nothing to everything she had faced in her twenty-two years.

Hesitantly, she pulled out a navy tunic and brown fleece-lined jacket. On any other day, they would have been fine.

She shoved it back in the wardrobe.

It didn’t feel fine today.

In the back of her mind, she registered Rhys entering the room, returning from the kitchen with two cups of tea. She heard the soft clink as he set both teacups down on one of the nightstands.

Then he came up behind her, snaking a gentle arm around her waist. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the cuff tattoo on his forearm that lovingly matched hers. She stood still as he brushed a loose hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Even without the mental connection, he always seemed to have a sixth sense for when she was distressed.

“What are you thinking about, love?” He asked through the bond.

Feyre smiled a bit at that. He could have sifted through her thoughts straightaway if he wanted, but she appreciated how he asked instead.

“Just…nervous, I suppose. When we were in my village during the war, I felt like I didn’t really have the option not to go, with so many lives hanging in the balance. But now I do have a choice, and…it’s just overwhelming.”

Now that things were stable, and Velaris was back on its feet, Feyre had chiseled out a bit of time to visit the mortal lands. To help rebuild her old village and any surrounding ones that still needed help – for, despite all of Lucien’s work with Vassa and Jurian, and despite the many months that had passed since the war’s end, aid was still often slow to come to the slip of human territory south of the Spring Court.

Rhys pressed his thumb softly into her side, rubbing comforting circles over the sliver of bare skin while he thought for a moment. 

“Nobody would blame you if you never wanted to go back there again. You know that. But you do, because you care, and that’s the important part. And when we’re out there today, I want you to remember something.”

“What’s that?”

“No one can make you small, darling. You are more than the insults the worst of them can throw at you.”

“After I’ve faced so many real monsters and gone to war, this shouldn’t feel so scary. The worst things awaiting us there are a bunch of prejudiced assholes.”

“Well, this is why you’re going, isn’t it? To prove them wrong?”

“I’m going because it’s the right thing to do. Proving them wrong…that’ll be a bonus.”

“And Rhys?” she said, out loud this time.

“Yes?”

“No matter how much you might want to, you have to promise not to incinerate the first person who’s rude to me.”

Rhys’s easy smile receded into a thin line. “Who said anything about incinerating?”

“Sometimes I don’t have to be in your mind to know what you’re thinking. I know you have self control, when you’re willing to exercise it. In the name of diplomacy.”

Rhys leaned in a bit closer, breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “Then you should also know that you’re the thing that unravels my self control most quickly.”

“Oh?”

She felt her toes curl as Rhys pressed his lips to her neck.

“Maybe you should demonstrate exactly how that happens,” she murmured.

Amongst other things, Rhys’s little…interruption to her dressing had certainly made the early morning go by quicker, at least.

By the time they were done, the tea was cold, and it was a good thing she had never dressed, because she would have had to do it all over again.

In the end, she picked a sturdy pair of boots and her favorite set of fleece-lined leathers to guard her against early spring’s slight chill in the mortal land. Why had she felt the need to wear human attire when she wasn’t one? She was part of the Night Court, and proud of it. And the villagers could be as proud and pigheaded as they wanted, but she wouldn’t let it hinder her.

Faerie-human relations had gotten far enough that they wouldn’t be chased out of the village with pitchforks, but there was still work to be done. Enough that Feyre had decided not to openly advertise who she and Rhys were, though it would be obvious to anyone who thought about it for a few moments. So Rhys would hide his wings, and they both would keep a damper on the full might of their magic.

They had a quiet breakfast, only interrupted by the occasional comment.

“Mor will be winnowing back in tonight, so she’ll be able to join us,” Rhys mentioned in between bites of toast.

“I can’t wait to see her again, there’s so much to catch up on,” she mused with a smile. It seemed like ages since she had seen Mor, and even longer than that since the whole family had gotten together.

“What time is everyone coming over?”

“I told them around 9. Nothing too extravagant, just good food with our family.”

The long day ahead of them was certainly daunting, but tonight, their whole family would be together again, after months of someone always travelling. The thought of it fortified her for the day ahead. Every year, their little circle seemed to grow bigger and bigger, and her heart only fuller along with it.

After finishing breakfast, they were ready to depart just after sunrise. Part of Feyre yearned to enjoy the morning by flying, but she knew that would take them far too long, and with her lack of experience, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with Rhys over the distance.

So, winnowing it was. Standing in the foyer of the house, she linked her arm with his, and they were off, soaring through the dark fabric of the world. Rhys was only a vague shape next to her, and though she had winnowed with him countless times before, she held on tight.

All too quickly, they arrived. Rhys landed them just outside the driveway to the old Archeron estate on the edge of town. Last week, she had written to the village heads, letting them know the Night Court would be sending aid. Not because she expected some kind of special greeting, but more to give the villagers – many of whom were still wary of faeries – a heads up.

Walking into town would help with that, too. It would be much less startling than the pair of them materializing out of thin air.

Feyre paused for a long moment, taking in her once-familiar surroundings. There was a warmth to the air that hadn’t been present in the farther north Velaris. Behind them stood the ruins of their old manor. Nobody had bothered to salvage or attempt repairs on it; who would, when there was no one left to care about it?

She hadn’t been back to it since those initial meetings after the war had ended. It had been cleaned up just enough to make sure there were usable chairs and no rusty nails poking out of any exposed boards.

All the same, she felt a pulse of regret as she made out the trampled remains of the garden Elain had once loved so dearly.

“Shall we?” Rhys asked, gently breaking her chain of thought.

She nodded, giving him a tight smile.

It was strange to be back in her village, to say the least.

As they approached the town center, memories of the times she had been here before felt like flipping through the pages of a dusty, ancient book.

A young child in the largest mansion in the town, on a hill that overlooked the whole city.

A starving girl, traumatized from the memory of her mother’s deathbed and her father’s leg, broken before her.

A love-struck human woman, returning to the village to see her family’s return to favor.

A newly-made faerie, desperately trying to change the tide of a war.

In some ways, the village itself had changed as much as she had. So little remained of what she remembered. Like the Archeron manor, many of the wealthiest estates had their lands pillaged, ornamental walls razed to the ground..  

It had taken her far too long to come here. They could have done more good earlier on, but she couldn’t leave Velaris. Rhys, of course, never intended on stopping her as Tamlin once had, but he had tried to gently remind her that this wasn’t her responsibility.

But wasn’t it? She, along with the rest of the Inner Circle, had bargained with the Mortal Queens for their half of the book, and dragged anyone in range of her family’s home into this.

She had brought about the downfall of the Spring Court, she had left holes in the wall, she hadn���t nullified the Cauldron in time and allowed monsters from Prythian and Hybern alike to find their way in.

Hybern may have pillaged and burned, but she had helped open the door.

She hadn’t come sooner for two reasons:

The first was that repairs in the Night Court had to come first. The second was her own guilt. Helping here…it felt like a cheap way to make up for all the damage she had done, but she couldn’t think of another meaningful way to help.   

She was more grateful than she could express that she wasn’t alone in this endeavor. Rhys had a mountain of things to be working on, and yet he had taken the day to come with her.

On the main road, they passed a gaggle of teenagers who stared at them both like they had two heads, their whispers plenty loud to her fae ears.

“…from the Night Court…”

“They say they want to help…”

“I’ve heard they’ll rip the skin from your bones.”

“You think Penalope found a faerie like that when she crossed the wall?”

Was that…admiration she heard in that last remark? Her mate certainly was handsome.

She briefly considered doing something possessive like snaking an arm around him or letting the damper off her magic to twine shadows around him…but that probably wouldn’t help her case.

She had no problem with strangers ogling her mate. Not when he was so clearly hers.

Besides, they weren’t trying to chase her with pitchforks. That was something.

Still, as they walked on, she felt more self-conscious than she cared to admit. It shouldn’t have mattered. She had defied the odds, broken curses and worlds and then stitched them back together again, but part of her was still that lost child, ignoring the sneers of her fellow villagers as she trudged out into the barren forest.

It had been rare for anyone to stop her, to express concern that a child was taking on that dangerous work. She had been younger than these teenagers, who looked like children to her, were. And when she had become fae…

She chased the memories out of her head as they walked into the village proper. Today wasn’t a market day, and the streets were mostly quiet. Here, most things had been rebuilt or were in the process. Nearly everything had been made of wood and hadn’t stood a chance when Hybern lit their matches.  

“There aren’t any Children of the Blessed around,” Feyre murmured, noting the lack of their robes and jangling bracelets.

“Does that surprise you?”

“I suppose not. Hard to idolize us when you see up-close what faeries are capable of.”

Most of the noise came from the center of the town square, where four men were in the process of rebuilding the town pavilion.

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that this was one of the last things being rebuilt. Obviously, people’s homes were much more vital, but the structure had rarely been used in her lifetime. For the common folk, it often seemed like there wasn’t much to celebrate.

Only one of the men, sawing a beam of wood, was facing their direction as they approached. He looked up suddenly, freezing as he took them in.

Fortifying herself, Feyre quickly bridged the last few paces between them, doing her best to look as nonthreatening as possible. The man still had a tight grip on his saw.

“We’ve come to help with repairs. Where can we be of the most use?” she asked, more confident than she felt.

The man’s ruddy face was vaguely familiar, likely someone she had crossed paths with during her years in the village. If he made out anything familiar in her features, he didn’t say.

He eyed the pair of them cautiously, taking in their inhuman features and the unfamiliar make of their clothes. She knew, because it was what she would have done, back in her village days.

“You’re the ones from the Night Court.”

Behind him, the other men had stopped their work, watching the exchange with tension coming off of them in waves . She didn’t need her daemati powers to know what they were thinking.

“Yes. My name is Feyre Archeron. This is my mate, Rhysand.”

Recognition clicked in his eyes at the mention of her last name.

“Yes…Remus said that there were faeries that wanted to help. With all due, I have to tell you that we have it handled.”

Feyre had been expecting this pushback – experienced it plenty of times in Velaris and the Spring Court.

“It seems like you could use any help you can get. You’ve made a lot of progress in town, but we passed by plenty of homes in our way in that are in disrepair. I know the continent hasn’t been sending the help you need.”

“Plenty of people in this village have had their lives and livelihood town apart by the fae. You expect them to welcome you in? My lady?” He tacked on at the last moment.

“I was once human. I understand their fear better than most,” she insisted.

The man paled slightly, and at first she thought it was because of her words. Then she realized that, at her side, Rhys had lifted the damper on his magic ever-so-slightly, a slightly threatening wave of shadows emanating off of him.

“Rhys!” she admonished down the bond. “You said you weren’t going to do that!”

“I said I wasn’t going to incinerate anyone, darling. Besides, I needed to let some magic out. You know how strenuous it is.”

“You won’t let me forget it. Poor, baby High Lord,” she scoffed.

Oblivious to their conversation, the man cleared his throat. “If you insist, there are some homes to the west that were hit hard. They could use help with repairs.”

“Thank you,” Rhys said, all politeness in his voice. “We’ll head there now.”

The man didn’t respond, instead simply turning back to bend over his sawhorse. It was a better reception than she had expected, honestly.

She turned to the winding, familiar path ahead of them, leading to the oldest part of the village.

“Ready?” she asked Rhys.

“Lead the way, darling.”

-

See you next week for chapter two!

taglist: @thron3ofbooks @the-lonelybarricade @swankii-art-teacher  @ghostlyrose2  @brieq @cretaceous-therapod @live-the-fangirl-life @achernarlight @reverie-tales @starfall-spirit @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @highladysith @areyoudreamingof

[lured-into-wonderland]

A WONDERFUL DAY, TRULY.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and everything was perfect in such a place. It was a new world, free from the constraints of the old. The witch had brought those who desired a fresh start away from the chaos and madness of a world that was crumbling. It was only a matter of time before it shattered into endless shards that could not be repaired, no matter how hard one tried. The only issue with such a move was that it was to a better world that had not yet been touched.

A witches duty to nature and the people.

"To protect, not destroy; to aid, not harm." It's truly odd that one sinful being of greed did not understand this. He was confined to a small dwelling within the forest, and starting a new life was not an easy feat, hardly. The urges, needs, wants, and wishes - a new cult was calling, a world not graced with sin. So many hearts, so many in need of being harmed and then turned into loyal and devoted followers.

Yet that was not the witches intentions.

An argument erupted, filled with insults and accusations. The man asserted his power and warned of the dangers that could befall anyone who defied him. The woman, a witch, expressed her concern about her partner upsetting the balance and causing harm. She felt that he behaved irresponsibly and could not allow him to harm anyone or venture into nearby villages. In order to protect others, she cast a curse to limit him, preventing him from causing harm in any form.

In the morning, she could hear it: the routine was as perfect as ever. He would be in the gardens of the endless forest, trying to figure out a way through to people. It was always the same - he would go through and come back defeated. This time, when the wife went into the kitchen, it wasn't the white-haired partner she was linked to, but something else entirely. There stood a white-furred jackass, a donkey, at the kitchen table eating breakfast, fully unaware of what had happened to it and how much it had been cursed to learn a lesson.

She knew Regulus didn’t like his prison. She knew that every morning he was trying to leave their (new) home. Always unsuccessful. Always defeated. And although her heart was sad for him, and although her heart urged her to help him, Nunnally didn’t believe the right time had come. She resisted her heart. Though it was PAINFUL. And it wouldn’t be too difficult to help him. To break the spell that restricted him. No matter how odd it may have appeared, it was her husband who was restricted. Not her. Whatever little powers she possessed (or whatever that was, indeed, as Nunnally refused to accept she was something else than a mere human), it allowed her to see through things. It allowed her to leave (and guide him out of) his prison.

 Was is because there was a part of a witch in her? Or was it something else?

Love for him? She loved him. She truly did. Her LOVE was UNCONDITIONAL, and yet it wasn’t blind. She was aware (at least partially) what kind of man her husband was. And yet she didn’t care. And yet she wasn’t to follow him blindly. Nunnally had her own little agenda. Her own desires and wishes. And she considered a witch A FRIEND.

A friend, though Regulus should be protected from the witch. And the witch should be protected from Regulus. She wanted both of them. But as far away from each other as she could separate them. Though sometimes she couldn't.

Humming, she welcomed another morning. Nunnally was sure, she would find the other side of the bed empty. Regulus was probably out there seeking a way out, while he could not realize that it was not anywhere there, but here so close to him. She was his way out. How foolish of him not to notice!?

When she was ready, she looked at herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw there. She liked their life here. He cared for much less things than Regulus would assume. Did the witch of greed understand her better?

“Nunnally  you are beautiful. Charming and smart. And you’ll get all you deserve.” – she hummed coming downstairs to the kitchen. Not that she was hungry. Quite opposite actually, but she was almost sure she’d find Regulus there. It was their ritual. He would be complaining about his failure, or pretending it had never happened, or do yet another thing. It didn’t matter. There was there to support him. To love him. To spoil him. To listen to his endless words. To caress his hair. She was there for him until he was to notice the obvious.

But when she entered the kitchen, the hum stopped as Regulus was NOT there. Instead, she saw a donkey eating breakfast prepared for Regulus and her!?

“Tsk…” – the annoyance was visible on her pretty face – “What are you doing here, little donkey? My husband will not be happy to find you here…” – not that she was worried about the animal’s well-being nor the ruckus Regulus might be causing seeing the donkey finishing their breakfast. Such an encounter could actually be rather funny to watch. Though probably not for the animal with the white fur.

“Come on…!” – she hurried the donkey gently – “You need to move…”

But there was something weird about this donkey. Something…

“Regulus…is that…you!?” - what has he done again to annoy the witch?

@fallesto

[mittensmorgul]

Kitchen Nightmares

That's what Mr. Mittens has dubbed the day i have been having. And it's fitting.

Important to know before I begin this tale, though not actually part of the tale:

Our heat pump has been awaiting repairs for about a week now. The heat works, but not WELL. It's painful knowing we're paying like 3x what we should be to keep the house warm while waiting for the Very Expensive Part needed to fix the thing. The part has been received by the repairdude and he's coming out tomorrow to complete the Very Expensive Repair, but in the meantime, we're trying desperately not to run the heat as much as possible. It would kinda suck to break it even worse (and even More Expensively) right before it's scheduled to get fixed.

Okay, now back to the actual Kitchen Portion of this essay...

Last night, I thought it would be fun to make dutch babies as a late night snack. Wednesday is Mr. Mittens' night off every week, and we always have some sort of pastry or other sweet treat with our coffee and then watch bad tv together for a few hours. It's a tradition! So my sister gave us a recipe for dutch babies made in a muffin tin... tiny dutch babies! What a fun idea, right?!

Well I got the ingredients all measured out into the blender, go to turn it on, and... the motor whirs and it SOUNDS like something should be happening, but nothing is actually happening! the ingredients remain a congealed mass in the bottom of the blender.

When I lift the pitcher to make sure i got the blades in securely or whatever, a bunch of heavy plastic nubs go skittering across the counter. These are the nubs on the blender base that engage the blades inside the pitcher. And they are very clearly no longer attached to the blender.

Now, this is a fairly old blender. I've probably had it about 20 years. I don't use it very often, but when I do, it's because I specifically need a blender for that task. And it's a Good Quality Blender! It's a Kitchen Aid! It's not supposed to do this! But it did... with a cup of flour, a cup of milk, and four eggs rapidly turning into something resembling wet concrete in the bottom of the pitcher.

Well, luckily i also own an immersion blender, but I'm not dumb enough to jam it down into the big blender pitcher to engage in some sort of hand-held spinning blades duel, so I scrape all that pseudo-batter into a mixing bowl and have at it. All the while, the muffin tin has been pre-heating in the oven and is starting to smell a little strange.

I pull it out, drop a pat of butter into each well, and pour in the batter, which i'm already not sure retains the correct proportions of ingredients, since it was truly impossible to get everything out of the blender. I was doing my best! I WAS DOING MY BEST!

My best was truly sub-par...

So i get it in the oven, and toward the end of the bake time, it was getting a little smokey in there. Ah, crap, some of the batter overflowed and splatted on the bottom of the oven, but the dutch babies actually turned out pretty tasty! So at least there's that... Aside from being like three times as messy as they should've been, and requiring a lot more cleanup than it should've taken, and my now destroyed blender that I'm pretty sure can't be repaired... well... it was almost one in the morning, i was tired, the oven was still hot, I figured I'd just clean up the spilled mess in the oven in the morning.

That... was a mistake.

Because by morning, I'd totally forgotten about it.

Until Mr. Mittens decided he'd make himself a frozen pizza. So he turned on the oven.

The kiddo was in the kitchen toasting a bagel, I was in the living room typing on my laptop, and when he went in to put the pizza in the oven, the kid was like "uh i think something's smoking a little in there?"

And they opened the oven door only to find it was literally on fire!

so... they closed the oven door and called out to me to alert me to this fact.

"uh, hon... i think the oven's on fire..."

and since this is apparently an event beyond the comprehension of my spouse and my adult kid, I put down the laptop and drag my ass out of my chair and go in the kitchen.

Mr. Mittens and kiddo are just standing there, staring at the smoke now pouring out of the oven vent, like... okay what do we do now?

I was like "wait, you saw fire and just closed the oven door?"

they shrug

I began by turning off the oven, as you do in circumstances like these, then opened the door and started... trying to blow out the fire. as you do... ?

when that quite obviously failed, i grabbed the fire extinguisher and had the fire out in like half a second.

But then I had twice as much mess to clean up as I would've if I'd only remembered the stupid dutch baby spill before the oven got turned on again.

So... mr mittens dejectedly put his pizza back in the freezer and i waited for the oven to get cool enough to clean. I couldn't even air out the house, because it's below freezing outside, and my poor heat pump would've likely exploded trying to counteract having all the damn windows open. So we sat in our smoky house while I made us grilled cheese sandwiches and waited for the oven to cool off.

Then I cleaned out the entire damn oven, and it's fine, nothing truly damaged, just a little bit gross. Thank heck. If anything else breaks, I might start screaming and not be able to stop.

I also don't want to clean anything else. But unfortunately I need to do laundry next... At least I had a nice grilled cheese, and some dutch babies. And the oven's clean.

[uchiha-7thsingularity]

Hope (Part 1)

Anger can be overwhelming and easy to hold on to. Although repairing a broken heart can be difficult unless you willing to find all the pieces. The aftermath of Felix x MC argument and make up.

Felix Iskander Escellun

Felix feels defeated for a whole month. That's right. They two took a break for a whole month without sharing a word or syllable to each other.

They'd pass him by without a glance. Not a sneer or rolling their eyes at his voice. Just plain silence.

What a hellish punishment.

MC on the other hand was miserable. Yes, they are to take fault for walking away without saying what they wanted to say but at this point what else could they say.

Their mind was ablaze with guilt, sorrow, and shame.

This was torture. An infinite purgatory of constant denial.

(Poor Anisa, Sage, Florian, Scylla, Saaros, and Tulsi. Not a clue on how to help their friends. Afraid to be caught in the middle. Silent in the bar or in the office. Can't even get a freakin cup since Felix and MC are in the kitchen while awkwardly trying not to bump shoulders or make eye contact. But they do end up holding eye contact and tensions are high that it leaves them both to walk away with no snack and just tears.)

At the end of the day Scylla gets sick of it that she drags Felix out into the garden lecturing his buffoonery.

'What's the matter?!' "Nothing." She crosses her tattooed arms. 'Could've fooled florian or anisa...not me.' "Please, like you care about my relationship. Every chance you get you flirt with them in front of me. Don't tell me you care. Now! Of all times!"

She hums.

'You.' "What?" She sighs. 'You, ya' dimwit. All they see is you. Not me. No other person like you. Because Mc is infatuated by you.'

He can't help but blush at that declaration. "It's not your business in the first place. You have no right...." At laugh escapes her, 'And you do...I mean what are you two doing fe. Cause I spent the last months trying to see if they where good enough for you...even with as much chaos and bullshit they went through to save you and stay by your side. It's understandable that they went into a spiral.'

He fixes his gaze past her with a pout. She hugs him without a second thought as well as his small grunt he lets out by surprise. He still doesn't push her away. "What am I suppose to do?" 'I do not know. But so help me Fe, if you let them go without a word or fight then you did it to yourself."

Late at night felix tosses in his covers with a huff and little to no plan in how to walk up to mc. Until the sunrise in which he makes haste to MC's bedroom with no regard for his sleep wear or the servants scurrying to aid him in his sudden morning walk. He arrives and knocks biting his lip.

His nerves are fully awake now. At the point when mc opens the door.

Their shocked to see their surprise guest or boyfriend in his night wear. Till he asks to come in with a nervous gaze. They nod and make room for him. 'Did you need something.' He pinches his nose. "Don't....do it do that MC." They cross their arms. " Do what? 'You know...No I-I absolutely did not want to come here to fight with you again. I came here to see if you wanted to discuss what we left unsaid."

Mc sits on the bed to rub their eyes. They heave a heavy sigh. 'Fine.'

"You walked away." 'I walked away.' "I can't speak for the both of us." 'I never once asked you too.'

He perks up, "I wanted to talk and you pushed me away. You are messy, delightful, charming, and marvelous in your own way. Yet, this...is not healthy. So, please tell me what's wrong.I don't want you to worry yourself to death."

'I worry! No matter the situation I can't help but worry!'

'You dead in my arms. Rime yelling at escell. You giving up and telling me to walk away.'

Tears start to spill with mc hugging their knees. Felix starts to rub their shoulders. "You've done enough. You are enough."

'I'm sorry I put you through hell.' "If you can fight a god off, simply a meltdown I can handle, my love."

Felix and MC snort and start to rant about their past few days. No one can say what else was said but nothings changed. Felix and MC are messy and imperfect in their own way.

Except, theirs always room for improvement.

[starlightwielded]

ELLA POST CANON HEADCANONS / NOTES ( spoilers OBVIOUSLY but i have a lot of thoughts about some important things pertaining to the rest of Ella's story / my interpretation so I am writing them out! will be adding more as they enter my head )

upon rising from the realm of the dead, ella no longer has legs of flesh- instead from the knee down, her skin is instead a magical prosthetic so to say, still shaped as a foot, toes and all, but silver, a material not too different than the magical slippers of the fairy queen of sweet dreams. ella, however, is not free from pain and struggles with on the occasion.

nightmares : not that that is surprising. ella has spent years a prisoner, abused within her own house, but she suffers pretty badly from nightmares. most of the time, these nightmares involve seeing the deaths of those closest to her, but on the occasion she does see what happened to her the night she died.

now, anytime ella is struggling or needs a distraction, very different from the previous nobles, she has a tendency to throw herself into work- what in the kingdom needs repairs, who needs help, defense, going into town to aid or even event planning instead of properly discussing what is lingering in her head.

though certainly far from the party animals' that the formal nobles were, ella still makes a habit to hold a large festival for every season and large holidays, as well as at least two balls a year outside of the festivities. she hosts banquets every other month with nobility, she holds court multiple times a week so the people are allowed to share with her their concerns. she simply is trying her best and working hard to make the kingdoms a happy, safe place for all.

takes a day to herself on justine and lucy's death days, taking time to mourn them at the old oak tree for awhile, brings a picnic. share the good. the bad. mourns. it’s a large part of her process.

regularly tries to do little surprises for the staff at the castle, giving them alternating days off, bonuses, but also small things too- she’ll leave bunches of flowers in the kitchen for whoever wants them to take- tries to gift them things on the occasion.