#is it too soon to be asking for ships. i sort of brought it up last night BUT

[unfriedough]

Hey sorry if your request aren’t open but I had a thought about Zuko x water tribe/bender reader!Like three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and So he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace for her?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you

An: HEY. Sorry this took like, so long I think you requested last summer, however I’ve kinda lost most of my determination to write and this account became more of a chore than what I had initially wanted. Either way, maybe somehow I’ll be able to be more consistent soon but I also don’t wanna make myself hate writing so :(

Thank you for requesting, I really do appreciate it, hope you enjoy :)

Zuko’s nose twitched as the cold nipped away at his extremities, huddled up in a few too many jackets. There’s a striking difference between cold and cold and right now he wished he was on fire.

Your gloved hand was intertwined with his as you lead him off of the fire nation ship and onto the white snow of the southern water tribe. This trip was planned as a way to visit Sokka and Katara, but Zuko had another plan in mind.

Finally, after three years of struggling to settle down, the fire people finally relaxed and he was able to make more time. In that time, he realized he’d wanted to marry you more than anything. So here he was, in a nation far too cold for someone like him, with a goal in mind.

He had exactly 5 days (and a half if you’re counting from now) to get ready a betrothal necklace. Why a necklace? Well, Zuko had watched you for days on end in the castle library, a book bigger than your head on the table being analysed by your eyes. You’d smile brightly when you locked eyes, and call him over. He’d sit next to you, shoulder to shoulder, attempting to read with you. The books were always about old water tribe traditions, tales, legends, history, everything of the sort. You’d wanted to stay connected to your culture and upbringing - it made you who you were today.

And so that brings you to today, here, the water tribe.

“Katara!” You squealed, running forward and pulling her into a hug. You two squeezed each other tightly, excited noises being expressed.

Zuko and Sokka nodded to each other, trying to be kinda nonchalant but Sokka couldn’t hold it much longer, he sprinted at Zuko and tackled him to the ground into an oh-so-warm hug. You laughed at the site, Katara too. Zuko felt a twinge of pink on his cheek, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t really tell, but he still wrapped his shaking arm around his buddy. After a few more ‘I missed you!’s and giggles, Zuko and Sokka got back up. Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the village, you laughed the entire way, giddy from being back home here with your family. You threw a glance backwards at the fire lord, there was something very slightly off about the way he was smiling, you brushed it off as just the cold getting to him.

It was most definitely the cold getting to him.

Sokka led him to the ice on the outskirts of the village and brought some chairs along. They were gonna go fishing while they talked. As they both sat, another shiver ran up the poor fire bender’s back.

“How do you guys survive the cold?” He groaned.

Sokka chuckled, handing him a rod, pushing the bucket of bait closer to him, “You get used to it… I could ask you the same thing about the heat,”

“I’m a fire bender it’s in my blood,”

“Yeah well you learn a thing or two when your lovely sister starts learning how to bend and suddenly you’re always wet,” he cast the line, leaning back, putting one leg over the other.

“I guess,” he laughed.

They sat in a suffocating silence for a minute, Zuko just awkwardly holding the pole and Sokka staring into the sky.

“Are we going to address the camelephant in the room?”

Zuko looked to him from his peripheral, “I’m kinda nervous I guess, I don’t know what to do,”

Sokka sat up a little straighter, getting up to help Zuko with his fishing issues. He stood behind him and helped his arm into the correct place, slowly to be sure he understood.

“Just like fishing, you have to be precise and confident to get what you want, and if you cast your line just right, you’ll catch the fish,” he winked once the bob hit the water, stepping back to admire his own work.

“Not sure that’s the best metaphor,”

“Say you love it, he's been working on it ever since you wrote to him,” Katara rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you both struggled to not slip on the ice.

“KATARA.”

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, then he was met with the puzzled look on your face.

“I thought this was a surprise trip, when’d you write to them,” you tilted your head, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…needed to make sure they were free,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That totally checks out,” you rolled your eyes, getting a serious case of FOMO.

Sokka coughed to try to clear the awkwardness, “So fishing…”

“What’re you trying to catch anyways?”

“Does it matter, it’s about the process YN get with the times,”

“Since when did you fish for fun?”

“Since now.”

“I thought you hated fishing,” you were all standing up by this point, including Sokka and Zuko.

“Only because Miss Katara always splashed me,”

“And I won’t hesitate to do it again!” She bent a small stream into his face, giggling when he stumbled back.

“Oh it’s on Katara,” he paused, “As soon as I get snow,” he waddled away to get to the snow on shore.

You laughed when the waterbender used more ice to cause him to slip.

“I’ll go help him up,” you laughed, moving towards him as he laid helplessly on the ice, not even bothering to get up anymore.

Zuko watched your figure, missing the way Katara turned to look at him.

“I think you should do it here,”

“What?”

“The proposal,”

“That’s not enough time, it’s barely enough for me to learn how to carve the necklace,”

“Lucky for you, Sokka’s pretty efficient with plans, he’s been plotting since you told him,”

The fire bender smiled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Okay, maybe, but how can I get started when she’s with us all the time?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her,” she smirked.

-

“Are you sure this is safe?” You shivered, standing in your bathing suit on top of a huge rock, below it freezing water.

“No!” Katara, “But let’s do it anyways,”

“I don’t know, what if I freeze?”

“Good thing we have a fire bender with us,” she pointed to Zuko, who was in the distance learning about what tools to carve and what stones to use, he’d settled on one that reminded him of your eyes, and the band matching the deep royal blue usually used. He wanted to alter the pattern as a way of commemorating both elements. Currently, he and Sokka were doodling designs on the snow with sticks.

“Look at those dorks, I wonder what they’re doing,”

“You know Sokka, they’re probably drawing,” she laughed nervously.

“Hmm, that kind of looks like a-“ you were cut off as she pushed you off of the rock. You shrieked as you first dropped, then as you got more air time you changed into a more streamlined position with your head downwards. Instant regret when you hit the water though.

You resurfaced, drenched and in pain from the cold. Your fingers felt like they were gonna fall off any second now. Before you got to dwell on it, Katara joined you, also screaming in fun-agony.

“WHY’D YOU PUSH ME?” You splashed her.

“You were talking for too long…” she giggled, going under and pulling you down.

You inhaled a large amount of air before going under, making sure to keep her under with you as well. After a few seconds of freezing cold, you resurfaced, feeling pain in all your joints from the water.

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” she shrugged, waterbending herself back up to the ledge so she could jump again, “But it sure is fun,”

Sokka and Zuko heard a splash in the distance.

“I think Katara is torturing your wife,”

“What?” he mumbled, looking at where you were very clearly lecturing her about something, “What’re they doing?”

“Ice bath, Katara tricked me into doing it once… I never fully recovered,”

Zuko chuckled, using his stick to doodle another design. Which he then stared at for a while.

“This is it.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced at it, “It’s perfect.”

The men stared at each other proudly, as if they’ve just completed a super hard mission.

Immediately, Sokka took him inside a tent, quickly teaching him methods of carving with different tools. A few more splashes could be heard and you and Katara had fun.

“I wonder what he’s doing to Zuko,”

“Boy stuff,”

You furrowed your brows, “what does that even mean?”

After a lot of time (and a few cuts) Zuko finally had a necklace ready. Sure, it needed to be refined, but his hands were tired and shaky. Sokka patted him on the back, watching the fire bender weave the blue band into the loops.

What they failed to notice was you approaching, now covered in a warm coat.

“What’re y'all up to?” You breathed out, still cold but beginning to gain your senses.

Zuko panicked, hiding it under his leg. You looked at him weird.

By this time, Katara had joined the group, and behind her the sun fell into a pink and purple type hue. Zuko didn’t miss the way your breaths were so laboured, and he took it upon himself to lead you back to where Sokka said you two were staying. You changed into some clothes while he surveyed the room, moving around nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” you pulled a sweater over the thermal shirt, reaching over to grab an undercoat.

He walked up to you, fingers working shakily to button up the buttons. “Just cold,”

“No, the cold doesn’t make you avoid me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,”

“Really? It feels like Katara and Sokka are trying to keep us apart.” He grabbed another, heavier coat and draped it over your shoulder, you inserted your arms in the holes.

“I didn’t notice,”

“You’re lying,” you stepped back, putting your boots back on and tucking your pants into them.

He frowned, reaching out to you, but you stepped back.

“It’s weird, the letter thing as well- why didn’t you tell me you sent it to them? I thought it was last minute?”

“It was!”

“You’re lying again,” you frowned, folding your arms.

“I promise it’ll all make sense soon,”

“How soon? What’re you hiding?”

“I-“

“Actually. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” You huffed, storming out of the room, leaving a different kind of cold lingering.

Zuko sat down on the large bed, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed deeply, reaching over multiple layers of clothing to his pocket to pull out the carved stone. Truly, it was mediocre at best. And after this misunderstanding, the sinking feeling of impending rejection poisoned his thoughts. He couldn’t help but trace his finger over the patterns, wondering what could’ve been- he was half sure he was single now.

“I forgot-“ you gasped as you walked back in the room, catching a glimpse of the rock in his hand.

“Yn!” He quickly shoved it behind him.

“Zuko… what was that?”

“What was what?” He said, looking so suspicious it was stupid.

You took a few steps closer, inching towards him slowly, “In your hand,”

“My hand’s empty…”

“Liar…” you dragged on, standing right infront of him now.

“Zuko,”

“Yn,”

You tried pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t budging.

“Cut it out! What’s behind you?”

“Nothing!”

You sighed, walking away in defeat, just as he let his guard down, you pounced, having to grab it and rolling onto the bed. He barely had time to process it when your face immediately changed.

You sat up, moving on your knees towards him on the bed, patting his bicep, “Zuko light,”

The fire lord frowned, embarrassed that he was about to get rejected, although that’s no foreign feeling. A small, dancing red flame illuminated the carved necklace.

“It’s…” you covered your mouth with one hand, tears welling in your eyes.

“Tacky- I know, I just thought- you don’t have to do a-“

“Beautiful…” he glanced sideways at you, “Zuko…”

“This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go…” he sighed, dropping his head.

“No… probably not,” you sniffled, “but it was perfect,” you laughed, he chuckled as well.

He got up, lighting an oil lamp for better lighting. Zuko circled the bed and stood next to you, still nervous and fidgety.

“Yn,” he breathed out, shakily.

You nodded, glossy eyes meeting his.

“The years you’ve spent by my side, against me, with me- those have been the best years of my life. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly myself. I’ve never,” he swallowed harshly, “I’ve never felt more at home,” he paused again, looking up at the ceiling, “then when I’m with you.”

You let out a small noise of excitement, bouncing your legs.

“I’ve made so- so many mistakes in my life, every single day of it, but I think… I think letting you go would be my biggest mistake, Yn-“

“YES!!” You pounced on him, hugging him so tight as your heartbeats both skyrocketed.

You giggled as he looped the necklace around your neck, it was simple, and dainty, but most of all it was so Zuko. The more someone could stare at the imperfections in the craftsmanship, the more they’d love it. A man carved it with love and intention.

You held each other for a while, just swaying in the dimly lit room. You leaned back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Is this why we're here? You wanted to carve the necklace?”

“Yeah, pretty much, you ruined my plans though,”

“I did, didn't I?” You giggled.

“I had a lot planned for us, with the help of Sokka of course,”

“Ohh now that makes sense,”

“What makes sense,”

“Literally everything, you were being so weird,”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets,”

“Good, never keep one again,” you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose we should tell Katara and Sokka,”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

And so, hand in hand, you walked out to the bonfire, where the siblings sat.

Sokka was so mad his plan foiled.

#atla #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fluff #avatar zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko angst #zuko #zuko atla #zuko x Reader #fire lord zuko x reader #zuko x female!reader

[atlabeth]

bad luck - nikolai lantsov

summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.

a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending

At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating. 

You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you. 

Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound. 

And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you. 

Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this. 

“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”

Your grip slackened. “What?”

Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent. 

You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away. 

“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”

“Are we free?” you asked.

Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. 

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.

The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”

Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”

She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from. 

“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side. 

“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.” 

The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive. 

“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.” 

Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once. 

Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized. 

“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.” 

“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line. 

“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”

There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again. 

Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again. 

And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct. 

“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.” 

“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!” 

“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.” 

“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.” 

“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.” 

You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you. 

“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.” 

You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck. 

“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”

Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem. 

“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”

“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that. 

“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”

He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.  

But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.

You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days. 

All you had to do was keep your head down. 

-

Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.

You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.

You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did. 

“Why?” 

“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you. 

She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not. 

“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?” 

“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?” 

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.” 

You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?” 

“How did you know I was Ravkan?” 

“Your accent.” 

“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?” 

“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.” 

Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.” 

“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?” 

You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle. 

“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.” 

Your lip curled. “How astute of you.” 

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. 

“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”

“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”

“Sturmhond,” he said.

Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.” 

You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.” 

“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”

“My point still stands,” you said wryly. 

“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked. 

“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.” 

“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”

“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”

“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?” 

You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?” 

He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”  

You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.” 

“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out. 

-

Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda. 

He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks. 

“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”

She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”

You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.

“What are you playing at?” you demanded. 

“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly. 

“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?” 

Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”

“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”

His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.

“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”

“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”

“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”

“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”

You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”

“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”

“You assume I have any.”

“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.

Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.

“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”

“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.” 

“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”

“Disappeared?”

You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”

Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”

You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”

“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”

“How kind of you,” you said dryly.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”

“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.

“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.

“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”

“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”

Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.

“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”

“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.

“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door. 

“How long have you been part of his crew?”

“A few years,” she said.

“Do you ever get used to him?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”

You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”

-

You were at Sturmhond’s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.

As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly. 

“You actually came,” he said.

“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”

“We just met,” you said dryly.

“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”

“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.” 

For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief. 

“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”

“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”

“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”

“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown. 

“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.” 

You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.” 

“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ” 

You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?” 

“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.” 

“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.” 

“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.” 

“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly. 

“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.” 

She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose. 

He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore. 

“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.” 

“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly. 

“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door. 

“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”

You turned around. “How do you know that?” 

“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.” 

A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years. 

“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.” 

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured. 

“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.” 

Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light. 

Your engagement rings still matched perfectly. 

Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.” 

“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.” 

“I’m glad you went through it, then.”

“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?” 

“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?” 

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past. 

“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.” 

“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.” 

“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.” 

“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?” 

“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.” 

“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.” 

“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly. 

“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked. 

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.” 

“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.” 

“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft. 

You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”

“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said. 

“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.” 

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?” 

“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh. 

“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.” 

Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more. 

“How can I refuse?” 

Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before. 

You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time. 

Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once. 

“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.” 

You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.” 

“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him. 

You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave. 

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

[yakulin]

.˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

Prompt: You and Kei are both high school teachers that all the students ship

An awkward smile arose on your face as a group of female students gathered around your desk during lunch time. They kept on beckoning for you to reveal your "secret,” but there wasn’t one.

 

“Come on, miss! You have to tell us if the rumors about you and Mr.Tsukishima are true!” A short brown-haired girl stated, and you couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly. “They’re just rumors; we’re just coworkers, alright?” You stated. The group of girls seemed a little disappointed by that answer: “Although this isn’t a very appropriate question to be asking your homeroom teacher now, is it?” You said, half jokingly, that you were known as the chill teacher in the school, explaining why the group of girls tended to push these sorts of questions on you.

 

Time passed, and you decided to leave your classroom, as the group of girls weren’t going to stop trying to get a nonexistent answer out of you. You set down a plastic cup under the coffeemaker as you heard the door of the teacher's lounge open. Turning around to look at the person who entered the room, your eyes widened ever so slightly. “Good evening, Tsukishima,” you said with a warm smile, and he returned the same greeting.

 

Tsukishima passed by you towards the fridge to get his lunch. Seeing him in the same room as you had you thinking Why are there rumors about you two dating? Or why do the students think there’s any sort of chemistry between the two of you? It doesn’t make sense.

 

You were brought out of your thoughts when Tsukishima spoke up, “Have you noticed the strange interest the students have had on both of us recently?” He asked, leaving you a little embarrassed as you blew on your prepared coffee.

 

An awkward smile appeared on your face as you looked down at your coffee. "Have they been asking you strange questions too?" You asked, and he nodded hesitantly. “Not exactly, but I noticed during our last staff meeting that as we finished and left the room, some students were giggling, but not in a funny sort of way. When girls have crushes on their classmates, kind of giggling,” he explained, thinking back. You did remember the group of kids after the meeting, although you brushed it off because they were probably just doing something they weren’t supposed to.

 

“Are they asking you straight up or something?” He asked, a bit surprised. “Yeah, pretty much. I came here just to get away from the group of girls,” you said, laughing slightly. He covered his smile with his hand. "God, they have no shame, do they?” He asked rhetorically. “They don’t even know the word shame. Either way, you got any idea how this whole fantasy situation between the two of us even happened?” You asked.

 

"Well, I heard this group of girls talking in my class, saying how our whole 'mean intimidating boyfriend and sweet chill girlfriend’ were relationship goals.” He answered, "So it’s our unofficial dynamic?” You simplified his words and couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

 

"Perhaps,” he responded with a small smile. “That’s funny; I suppose it makes sense. You aren’t a bad-looking guy, pretty sweet too, but anyone compared to you would be known as the'sweet chill girlfriend', no offense, of course." You said it blankly, your cheeks turning a light pink once you realized you had just called your coworker, who you’re being shipped with by handsome students!

 

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. This surprised you because never once in the multiple years you two worked together did he ever stutter. Especially over such a simple word, did you catch him off guard? Staying quiet, an awkward silence began to rise.

 

"You aren’t bad-looking either,” he said, speaking up through the awkward silence. "Thanks," you responded. The silence of the lounge made the outside noise capable of being heard, and soon enough, faint giggles from students arose from outside the lounge door. You looked over at Tsukishima, and he looked back at you. “Do you think..." You whispered to him, “Oh god, I hope not.” He responded.

The student shipping frenzy was about to get real.

#haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #tsukishima x you #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #hq tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei

[calicocatsarecute]

Hey y’all welcome back to one of fics! It’s lee! Lute ( bc I may be obsessed with her being completely weak to tickles ) enjoy!

Description: Lute is having a bad day. She’s slower and more sloppy in her movements. Adam notices this and decides to give her some “endurance training”.

__________________________________________

Adam’s crew had just finished a section of training. Extermination was in about 8 months. Adam could see that almost everyone was there, everyone except…

“Sorry I’m late sir!”

Think of her and she shall appear. Lute was his best soldier. She was speedy and aggressive. But something was off about her today.

“It’s fine Lute, just hop in when you’re ready.” Adam said still eyeing the uneasy angel.

As training went on Lute seemed even more off somehow. Her limbs were fatigued and her strength wasn’t the same as it usually is. Lute seemed tired even. Adam worries about all of his soldiers but someone as strong as Lute, seeming to crumble under some sort of pressure! It made Adam worry even more.

Soon enough it was time to send everyone back home for the day. But Lute, her expression was saddening to see.

“Hey Lute! Come over here, will ya?”

“Yes sir!” Lute answered and flew over almost immediately.

“What’s wrong with you today? You’re not yourself.” Adam worries deepened as he saw the girl avoid his gaze.

“I-I’m fine sir, really. Just feel a bit sick today.” Lute tried to put on her best smile, but it ended up frumpy.

Adam sighed but he wouldn’t give up until he saw his friend show a real smile.

“Alright well if it’s not a burden for you; would mind staying a bit longer for extra “endurance” training?” Adam had to fight back a smile himself as he said those words.

“Of course I can a bit longer! Please instruct me on what to do.” Lute said, straightening her stance.

“Alright, I need you to lift your arms up.”

Lute did as she was told. Even if she was confused by it.

“Great now, whatever you do, don’t let them go down.” Adam now smirked a bit as his hands crept towards the girl.

“EEK!”

Lute almost brought her arms down to cover her mouth, but she remembered the instructions.

“Sihihir!”

“Yes Lute? You ticklish?” Adam almost laughed along with her.

“Ihihihit tihi- AH! Nohohoho!” Lute giggled helplessly as her ribs were tickled.

“Tickle tickle tickle! Keep those arms up~!” Adam teased.

The man knew all of his soldiers’ weaknesses, almost all of them to tickling. Lute was no exception, tickling always got her giggling and squirmy. Of course all of her terrible spots were told to him by her “special someone”.

“Ahadam, sihihir! Thihis ihisn’t thehe traditio-NAHAHAL!” Lute squealed as her boss brought one of his wings to her ears.

“Looks like that girl of yours was right! This IS a bad spot for ya!” Adam’s grin somehow got bigger. “And, this is a type of training I made specially for you!”

“STAHAHAP STAHAHAP! IHIHI’M BEHETTER IHIHI’M BEHETTER!”

“Alright fine, guess you’ve had enough.”

And with that, Lute was released. She immediately dropped to the ground, cupping her ears.

“Did I go too far?” Adam asked patting his soldier’s back.

Lute shook her head as should stood up. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow sir.” She said waving goodbye.

“See ya tomorrow Danger T!ts!”

——————————————————————— -

Lute walked through the door of her front door.

“Is everything alright dear? You’re late.” A voice stated.

“Yes Liz, I’m fine. Adam just wanted to see me smile that’s all.” Lute reassured the girl. “But, did you have to tell him about my ears?”

“Sorry about that! He asked me about them.” She answered back. “But you know I love you, and your sensitive parts!”

Lute sat next to her. “Yeah I know.”

__________________________________________

Sorry for the bit of self-shipping at the end! Anyways hope you all enjoyed this

#hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel tickling #lee!lute #ler!adam #self shipping

[like-a-bantha]

Lost/Loss

Summary: Everything changed after Eriadu. Hunter becomes withdrawn, and you can't help but worry about him. You do what you can to show him you're there for him.

Pairing: Hunter/GN Reader (No Y/N, no descriptions of reader's appearance)

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, mentions of major character death

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 | Masterlist

One week of radio silence. Our contact was supposed to get back to us five days ago with intel on Hemlock and his captives. Instead, we’ve sat around on Pabu tensely awaiting a holocall that we’re beginning to lose hope in receiving.

Phee was kind enough to offer us room in her home, and free reign of her holotable, to act as a sort of base. It’s been quieter since we were last gathered around this table. The usual boisterous laughter and interrupted rants replaced with worried silence broken every so often by a sea breeze that no longer carries the joyous sound of Omega and Lyana playing just outside. That mission, Hemlock, the Empire, took so much from us; it’s taken an incredible amount of effort from Hunter, Wrecker, and I to not allow these forces working against us to take our hope on top of it all.

Echo and Rex referred us to this contact not long ago, someone who they’d worked closely with during the war, someone they trust. I commed Echo. Hunter advised against it, said it wasn’t worth it, that all we could do now was wait. I snuck out to the Marauder to use the long distance com anyways. Of course, the conversation was brief, and he has as much information as we do. Sit tight. Waiting game. All that.

“How’re they holding up?” His voice low, even with the volume adjusted to its highest setting. He’d mentioned returning to Coruscant last time we spoke, it must be the middle of the night there. We always did have terrible sleeping schedules.

“Not well, but I mean…” I trail off, we both know the reason, we both hold some foolish hope that not saying it will make it less true, “They miss you.”

“But you don’t?” There’s that sass, that glint of normalcy I’ve both craved and feared these past two months.

A laugh escapes me as if on instinct, it sounds foreign, “Nah, thought I’d never shake you. So clingy.”

“You’re one to talk, you do realize it’s 0100 here?”

This, our shared brand of humor and sarcasm, too, feels so distant to me now. Slowly, it comes back to me, “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up? Were you sleeping?” 

“Like a baby.” His warm chuckle crackles through the com speaker, and mine through his. The silence that follows is warm, easing his way into broaching the question, “I take it he’s distancing himself again?”

I sigh, a deep sigh only brought about by reality, “I get it, I really do — and, honestly as bad as it sounds, I wish I didn’t because this kriffing hurts — but withdrawing like this, I don’t know why he can’t see it’s only making the feeling worse.”

“Have you told him that?”

“‘Course. He just says something about how we can’t give up and stares at the holotable. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up, I just hate seeing him like this.” 

Echo hums, but just as he begins to respond, static and unintelligible voices play loudly through the speaker. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. Good luck.”

I nod, wiping at my misty eyes as I reach for the switch to end the transmission, “Be safe. Talk soon.”

Silence. Mournful, somber silence echoes through the lonely hull of the once lively ship. Everywhere my gaze falls sits a piece of their history, our history; one of Tech’s unfinished projects, a drawing of the ship Omega had called extra credit, Echo’s favorite brand of instant caf. Unable to withstand the weight of these memories, I decide to take my leave and the silence follows me back to the cottage.

I return to a rare sight: an empty house. No Wrecker sitting at the kitchen counter disassembling and reassembling explosives. No Phee asking him to take it outside. No Hunter hovering over the holotable awaiting a call. No com to tell me to hurry back, mustn’t have been an emergency.

I make my way over to the holotable, fingertips gliding across its rounded edge as I approach Hunter’s usual seat. When I pull out the chair, I’m met with a sight that would normally make me laugh. His shredded scarf that he’s grown so attached to, destroyed on our last mission to gather intel, along with his prized bandana that appears to have shrunken in the wash. The best I can muster is a bemused huff, taking the bundle of abused fabric into my arms as I sit. Suddenly, I’m struck with an idea. It could be a very stupid idea, of course, but a very good idea doesn’t always equate to a very smart idea. It’s a perspective thing and seeing as the only perspective available at the moment is my own, I figure I may as well get to it before more perspectives show up.

After careful work, I neatly fold remaining fabric and stash it in my pack with my tools; as the designated mender of the group, I know firsthand there is no such thing as too many fabric patches. Returning to the table, finished product tucked delicately in my vest pocket, approaching voices grow louder and louder.

“I’m telling you, it looks good! Stop fussing, leave it… yeah, like that,” Phee’s voice nears the door, and I’m sure I hear Hunter grumbling about something. The door whooshes open and my eyes widen with surprise. When I meet Phee’s gaze, she seems to silently plead for backup, “You’re back! What do you think?”

She gestures to an unamused Hunter, visibly fighting the urge to fidget with the hat he’s wearing. It doesn’t look bad on him, very few things would, but he doesn’t exactly look comfortable. Unwilling to hold the spotlight any longer, he grabs the floppy brim and removes it from his head, tossing the garment onto the table as he takes the seat next to me. Unable to help myself, I lean forward with a smile and run a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

“That bad, huh?” Phee sighs, Wrecker following closely behind as she heads for the kitchen.

“I liked it,” The glee still empty from his voice, even at something that would’ve garnered one of his trademark laughs a few months ago.

“Me, too, big guy.” Phee sets a crate of groceries on the countertop. Wrecker’s taken to cooking. Though he’s been much quieter these days, Wrecker seems like himself again when he’s preparing a meal.

Hunter’s gaze is locked on the table, silences between us were never tense like this. When he speaks, he doesn’t look at me. “How’s Echo.”

It isn’t a question, more of a remark, maybe even an I told you so if I really read into it. I answer it like a question anyway, “Good, but no word from the contact.”

He hums. The silence that follows deems the told you so unnecessary.

I reach into my vest pocket. Now’s as good a time as any. “I made you something.”

He hums again, gaze flicking away from the table for half a second in question. Right now, that’s probably the best I’ll get. I place an open palm on the table before him. After a moment's hesitation he rests his hand atop mine, palm up, and I look to his eyes as I delicately drape a band of maroon fabric with thin gold stripes across his fingers.

Hunter’s expression is unreadable, regarding the gift silently. I bite my tongue, attempting to hold in any preemptive apologies in fear that I may have overstepped. My flat expression shifts only when I see his eyes begin to well up, before the first sorry can push past the floodgates he turns to me with the faintest smile. A smile I haven’t seen in too long. His grip tightens around the bandana as he rushes to pull me into a tight hug. Instantly, my arms wrap around him, tears forming in my own eyes. “I love it,” his voice low, he places a kiss on my temple, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.” My voice comes out a whisper, all of the words I hold back seem louder. “We’re going to get them back, Hunter.”

“Not without a fight.” He says grimly, holding me tighter, as if he’ll lose me the second he lets go.

“I know,” I pull back to look into his eyes, my hand coming up to cup his tattooed cheek, “but we fight as a team. We can’t keep bottling all of this up, we need to take care of each other, ourselves.”

Hunter rests his forehead against mine as he sighs, “You’re right.”

“I know. How’re you feeling?” He shuts his eyes as my thumb gently ghosts back and forth over his cheekbone.

He thinks for a moment before releasing me, opening his palm to look at the bandana in his hand. “Lost,” he turns the garment over, examining the back, “Loss. I couldn’t protect them. You, Wrecker, Phee, you’re all I’ve got now and I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you either.”

“Tech protected us. Omega, too. I think it’s cruel to put that duty solely on yourself, Hunter. It’s an impossible weight to carry on your own,” A tear falls from my eye, quickly sliding down my cheek before landing on my pant leg, “please, let me carry some.”

“Giving it away doesn’t sound easy, either.” His own tears threaten to spill over, I hope I never get used to the subtle, somber shake in his voice, “But I’d like to try.”

When he looks up with a sad, weary smile, I can’t help but lean forward and place a small kiss to his lips. I begin to withdraw, but Hunter’s palm cups my cheek and pulls me back in for a longer, gentler and tearful kiss. This time, the silence that follows is peaceful as he rests his forehead against mine once more.

His loose hair falls around his face and I accidentally pull a few strands into my mouth as I inhale. He chuckles a bit as I pull away, a sound I’ve missed dearly. I can’t help but let out a small laugh of my own, reaching up to once again run a hand through his curls, “It’s gotten so long.”

Hunter smiles, turning the bandana over once more before presenting it to me, “Do the honors?”

With a smile and a nod, I take the cloth from his grasp, delicately wrapping the fabric around his head and tying a single knot.

“It’s perfect,” He places a soft kiss to my knuckles, taking my hand in his, “thank you.”

The holotable chirps. Incoming transmission.

A/N: Someone pointed out Hunter's hair looks longer, plus the new bandana, I just had to get this out of my system. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, comments mean the world to me! <3

#the bad batch x reader #hunter tbb x reader #star wars x reader #hunter tbb #echo tbb #wrecker tbb #phee genoa #reader insert

[spiriteddreams]

“saying goodbye to a best friend, is the bad part of the right thing to do.” — maisie peters (tough act) cw: angst, hurt/no comfort

you're not quite sure what led to this point, two figures on opposite ends of the room, with the empty space of unsaid words to separate you both. there is understanding amidst hurt, but that doesn't make it any easier. you feel it in your chest, remnants of a heart that once lay in the hands of wriothesley. now it feels like a birthday candle has run out, drying wax beginning to harden into memories that once sparked and burned between you both.

there is too much space between the two of you, void of emotion, void of touch, void of anything that might help to piece things back together. it's not easy to be in love, and wriothesley thinks it must be even harder to be in love with him. he's so stubborn and carefree at the same time that he imagines it must be frustrating. he isn't home all the time, and when he is, he can be rather nonchalant and uncaring of the things that swarm your mind. he's not the best lover, he thinks, and that must be why everything seem so irreparable between the two of you. he refuses to see the faults that you point towards yourself, ignoring the way that you’re clearly trying to point out that this sinking ship was the fault of two lovers too caught up in one another to notice the rising waters around them.

“wriothesley,” he hates the way you say his name now. not wrio, not baby, not my love. just wriothesley. it would have been crueler if you said your grace and he thanks all heavens that you still hold him with some familiarity, both in your arms and words. but now his office feels colder. he catches sight of the flowers you brought him from the two weeks before, not replaced by a new bouquet last week, now wilting at the petals and drooping to the floor. he wonders if that was one of the many signs he missed while caught up in the papers now strewn across his desk.

you sigh and look away but he catches the catch in your breath and the trembling of your lips as you gather the words to say. “i know— i know that i’m being cruel right now. but i just don’t think i can do this anymore.” he doesn’t like the way you shrink into yourself, hugging your body in an attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort. when did his office begin to feel unwelcome to you? but above all he wants to ask what is this. is this something he can fix, something he can change right this instant so that you won’t be leaving him beneath the ocean to drown by himself.

“i’m going back to the surface. monsieur neuvillette offered me a position at the palais mermonia and i think that it’ll be a fresh new start for me,” you force a smile to your lips. you wait for him to say something, anything, but you are left with nothing but silence. it’s a choking silence that kills and you feel any sort of hope sink in your chest.

he doesn’t hear the silent plea in your words, the one that begs him to say, “don’t go.” instead he takes a deep breath and mumbles something under his breath, something that you choose not to try to hear because you know that if you try, you might just end up in the same cycle of trying to hear one another out and falling into a blanket of comfort that only lasts until the next time you feel the rope fraying.

“i suppose i’ll see you around then,” he chuckles and waits the way that you seem to relax. a smile, one that looks more genuine, crosses your lips as you nod. “strictly for work.” he adds, ignoring the little flash of hurt that flickers across your face. he doesn’t think that he could be friends so soon again. time is the only medicine for the heart of the duke of meropide, and perhaps, he thinks, just as these metal gates close themselves to the outside, he should close his own heart for the sake of himself.

you leave shortly after, apologies still slipping from your lips. neither of you make an attempt to hug or to extend hands out as you’re both too aware that to do so would only hurt more. but you’ve hammered the nail in, and there’s no coming back from that. wriothesley closes the door behind him, heart heavy and fingers trembling. he hears the door click shut, the locks falling into place and he seals a goodbye for the last time.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: can't say i'm super happy w this piece but that's ok i need to get back into a writing cycle lol

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

[the-badger-mole]

The Other Woman: Part 5

In the end, Zuko decided that a letter was the least intrusive way to contact Katara. He'd handwritten at least ten drafts of varying lengths- one reaching eight pages before he'd decided that was excessive. In the end he had the envelope messengered over to Katara's apartment by a third party service both to keep her from feeling like he was involving one of their friends on his behalf and to maintain the distance she'd implicitly requested from him. His final draft was written on cream-colored card stock and delivered with a bouquet of panda lilies. He'd distilled his plea into two short lines.

I'm sorry. Can we talk?

He hadn't expected to hear anything the day he sent the letter. On the second day, his nerves began to get the better of him as he checked his phone every five or so minutes for a missed call or message. On the third day, he berated himself for not saying more in his letter. On the fourth day, he resigned himself to Katara's silence. On the fifth day, despair settled around him like a rain-soaked coat. On the sixth day, his phone lit up with a message.

Can we meet this week?

The diner Katara chose was one they'd stumbled into before late one night after celebrating the birthday of one of their friends a bit too hard. They'd split a custard tart while waiting for a cab. They'd talked about coming back a few times, but they never got around to it. It was a neutral enough spot for them to meet this day.

After the waiter had seated them in a far corner booth at Katara's request, and brought them their coffee and tea respectively, they sat in awkward silence. Katara held her hands clasped around her mug, not meeting Zuko's eye as she waited for him to say something. Zuko took a sip of his tea (some awful bagged stuff that hit his tongue with an acrid, murky taste that lingered), and took a deep breath.

"I owe you an apology," Zuko said. Katara looked up expectantly, her face giving away nothing. "I...I should have stood up for you to my mother. I have no excuse to give you except that I hadn't been paying attention to how unhealthy my relationship with her had gotten."

Katara pulled her lip in between her teeth and her brow furrowed. Zuko could almost hear her thoughts, but it didn't seem like she was ready to speak them.

"I-I spoke to my mom," he told her. "I let her know that I need space from her." Zuko took a deep breath. "I know this doesn't make up for how I've let her treat you, but...I just wanted you to know that I get it. I get why you broke up with me. I would love another chance to prove that I'll have your back against anyone, her included. But I get if that ship has sailed. I guess I just thought you deserved to know that something...I don't know....productive? came from this."

"Why did it take me leaving?" Katara's voice cracked slightly. It startled Zuko, who was beginning to think she would say nothing at all.

"I...I," he stammered. "I was afraid she'd leave again. I was never afraid of you leaving. I knew how much you cared for me, and I took that for granted. I know it's an awful explanation, and I should have listened when you told me before how you felt. I should have told you what I felt. We were supposed to be on the same team, and I let you feel like an outsider." Katara blinked rapidly against the tears that sprang up in her eyes.

"What did she say?" Katara asked. Zuko felt the heat rush to his cheeks again. It would be easier, he thought, if his face would just remain red in shame forever. It would make his scar less prominent, anyway.

"Well..." he said, cringing, "she thought you were pregnant and told me to get a paternity test." Katara snorted derisively and Zuko bowed his head apologetically. "I told her that I needed space, and then I left. She's reached out since, but I haven't responded yet. I've got her text messages in archive. I know I have to speak to her again, and soon, but I needed to take some time to sort out my thoughts." Katara cleared her throat and leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the table. Her face gave little away and Zuko wasn't sure how to read what little did come through.

"And what are your thoughts?" she asked.

"I think... I think I screwed up," Zuko confessed. "Not just with you. When I found my mom again, I was twenty. I didn't know what I was doing with my life, and I hadn't spoken to my father in years. Uncle was great, but when I found my mom again, I guess I regressed. I made so many decisions based around her. I turned down a great job because I would be too far from her. And it's not that I regret my life here- I wouldn't have met you if I'd taken that other job- but I gave up too much to be around my mom. I tried to force something instead of letting our relationship grow naturally. I know a lot of it had to do with her insisting she needed me here, and having a panic attack anytime I mentioned doing anything that would take me away from her, but at the end of the day, I'm a grown man, and I need to take responsibility for my own actions. Or...inactions." Katara nodded, taking in a few shallow breaths as she bit down on the inside of her lips.

"I thought you agreed with her about me," Katara said, wiping a couple of stray tears from her cheeks. "I thought that was why you didn't stop her, even after all the arguments we'd had about it. That night...I heard you and her talking in the kitchen-"

"I know," Zuko said, wincing.

"I heard what she said about me," Katara continued. "And I heard you say nothing to her. Nothing. I thought, there's no way this man can love me the way he says he does and not speak up when someone says something like that to his face."

"I'm so sorry," Zuko murmured. He ran his hands over is face. "I am so, so sorry."

"I understand why you clung to her," Katara sighed. "I do. If I had another chance to have my mom... I don't know. I never wanted to come between you and her, but you were supposed to talk to her about it. You were supposed to get her to stop treating me that way. I'm just so tired of arguing with you about her."

Silence hung across the table, and the tension was so heavy that the waiter paused in his journey to get their orders and went back behind the counter.

"You deserve more," Zuko said. "I'm sorry I lost sight of that. And thank you for coming to speak with me today. I-I know you didn't owe me closure."

"How do you know you won't slip back?" Katara's question caught Zuko off guard. He stared at her blankly for a moment before he gathered himself.

"I...guess I don't, really," he admitted. "I have a meeting with a therapist set up to help me work through this thing with Mom. I wanted to have a session before I talk to her again. If she doesn't respect the boundaries I'm trying to set, I'll go low contact with her. Uncle's already volunteered to buffer. Kiyi's going off to college soon, so I won't have to worry about Mom using her for leverage. I see the problem now, and all I can do is work on it. She's my mom, and I love her. I still want her in my life, but I don't ever want to get to this point again.

"You're not doing this just to get me back?" Katara's eyes were sharp. She almost looked angry, but Zuko recognized the signs that she was guarding herself.

"No," he replied firmly. "I still love you, and if there's any hope of you giving me a second chance, I'll take it. In a heartbeat. But I need to do this for me. Because even if this is the last time I see you, I want to be better for myself." Katara swallowed hard and nodded her head.

"It could be a while," she said. "It could take years for you to sort out your issues with your mom. There is a lot to unpack. A lot."

"I know," Zuko's mouth thinned grimly. "But I need to do it. And who knows, maybe my mom will follow my lead and finally get therapy herself. Ikem's told me he's been encouraging her to go for years." Katara let out a mirthless chuckle. Then she sighed and sank back into her seat.

"I still love you," she admitted. "I'm pissed at you, and I don't know if I want to marry you, but I do love you." Zuko wanted to run with that. He wanted to beg her to give him another chance and to take his ring back. Still, he held his tongue, determined not to pressure her. After a moment, Katara rewarded his patience.

"I don't think we should be engaged," she told him. Zuko flinched. "Not right now. I think we both need space to figure things out. But...maybe someday...like in a few months, after you're settled with therapy and have a chance to start working through things. Maybe we could try again? Just dating for a while. We can...we can see if we still work together?"

"And to see if I make good on standing up to my mom?" Zuko added with a weak laugh.

"Is that okay with you?" Katara asked. Zuko hesitated, just for a moment, before he reached out and took Katara's hand.

"That's more than I dared to hope."

"Are you folks ready to order?" The pair turned to find their waiter standing awkwardly at the end of the table. Katara met Zuko's eyes and smiled slightly.

"How about a custard tart?" she suggested. "To share."

The End

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

#atla #zutara #the other woman #part 5 #finale! #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

[ravixen]

svt + actor!s/o's on-screen kiss (pt 2)

➔ reaction || not requested || actor!au || (most of) 96 line

➔ warnings: none || 683 words ➔ notes: fluff, actor!y/n ; I've been outlining a seokmin romcom series lately (between adult life things), but here!! have this :) maybe i need to sort out a new posting schedule haha

JUNHUI: he literally filmed a romcom himself—he knows how to separate a script from reality. you actually ask him for advice because you're worried that the camera will pick up your nerves and ruin the chemistry you've built up with your co-star. junhui hums, tapping absently on his phone as he considers. "maybe talk to them about this?" he suggests. "aren't they a new actor? they might be worrying about it, too. you can hang out more between takes. the more comfortable you feel, the less awkward it is." and after some thinking, you take his advice to heart, dropping by your co-star's trailer the next morning to chat. it's a good thing you did because they huff a sigh of relief, saying that they were struggling to approach you about this, too. "it's also awkward because, y'know," they say, waving a hand, "you have a famous boyfriend. i don't want things to be weird. he's pretty cool. i mean, is he the type to get jealous?" you laugh at that and relay the information to said boyfriend, who blinks at you, strangely flattered. junhui ends up coming on set to get to know your co-star and he brought a snack truck, so now everyone loves him, but you're trying to make him leave because you feel shy. he insists on seeing you in your element, but you've never performed with him watching like this before...

SOONYOUNG: he actually finds out about the kiss scene before you do because he overhears some writers talking about it backstage. he's standing by the water cooler, minding his own business, when someone mentions your name and it piques his interest. he edges closer. they're discussing how there's more chemistry than they expected between you and your co-star. with the viewers actively shipping you two and the plot progressing so naturally, it wouldn't be weird to throw in a kiss scene—responding to audience feedback is the advantage of not pre-filming. they won't write in a whole love line because it'll ruin the premise, but a kiss would be enough to go viral, so one of the older writers pitches an idea that's so old-fashioned that soonyoung actually scoffs. "that's a waste of both their talents," he mutters before he can catch himself, and he flushes when they all turn to him. they're the professionals, not him. they're better at writing. they're also better at keeping secrets because as soon as he sees you, he blurts out what he heard. "i've never done a kiss scene before," you say hesitantly. "so? you're good at your job. you're going to kill it." you never thought your boyfriend would be hyping you up to kiss someone else, but it's kind of a funny image.

WONWOO: you didn't tell him about the kiss scene. oh my god, he totally didn't know about it because he insisted on no spoilers, and now he's completely blindsided by this journalist's question. he can see the headlines now: trouble in paradise? our lovebirds no longer talking, followed by a screenshot of his caught-in-headlights expression and a screenshot of your movie. he actually doesn't care that you had a kiss scene, not in the way that the articles are going to insinuate at least, but his brain is struggling to wiggle its way out of this situation. luckily, the ever quick jeonghan lifts his microphone and laughs. "that's a spoiler," jeonghan says, voice thick with amused charm. "poor wonwoo spent the past few months avoiding every detail of this movie to watch it with fresh eyes, and you just ruined it with one sentence. he blacklisted every mention of the movie, made us skip ads for him, even muted his partner on instagram to avoid promotional pictures." the more jeonghan talks, the more absurd it sounds, but his diversion works because now the journalists are chuckling and moving on. just to squash any lingering rumors, he goes to see your movie with you the next day, posting a proof photo about how his spoiler-free isolation has ended.

JIHOON: posted in part 1!

#caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #junhui scenarios #jun scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #hoshi scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #g: svt #m: junhui #m: soonyoung #m: wonwoo #t: reaction #s: notrequested #ravixen #actorau

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟓   ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜   |   LEONOR'S APARTMENT, MID MARCH 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  After the meeting with Beatriz, Leonor spent the intervening time at home. Others had eagerly launched themselves back into the world as the mourning period ended. The isolation, the quiet, the total stillness had, at some point, mutated from a comfort to a burden. This hadn’t been the case for Leonor. She reemerged at the appointed time to find everything changed. Yet, the world continued to spin, and that fact left her overwhelmed and overexposed. Retreat to the protective embrace of home required no decision on her part. It wasn’t that her space brought any sort of peace or rest so much as that it was private. Privacy is what she craved; her sanity hinged on it, she quickly came to believe, as soon as the flashing and shouting inherent to public life fell upon her once more. That, too, had changed. Although dulled by the haze that grief had settled on her mind, the new intensity was undeniable. Listless and alienated from what—from who—had once been familiar, Leonor behaved as if it were still deep winter rather than the cusp of spring. She hibernated. Reality intruded nonetheless, springing forth like leaks in a ship.

❧ thank you to @crownsofesha for miss kore whom i love !!!! it’s been months and months but here she is 💅 also, okay, i fibbed, because i remembered that we have one more scene before the party starts (which, actually, i’m excited about), BUT ... i’m so happy to see miss leonor hanging out with a friend, looking hydrated and moisturized, reluctantly makings PLANS !!!!!! (oh, and, i didn't really decide what leonor's playing in the beginning, but let's say it's something like the platters.)

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

TRANSCRIPT:

{Record music playing}

{Door opening, muffled conversation}

[V] My princess, do you—

[L] I’ll take it from here, Vita. Hi Kore.

[K] Brought you something.

[K] It’s not strawberry season, but I know you like them.

[L] Sweet of you. 

[L] You didn’t have to drop by. It’s a workday. I bet you just left the office. We could’ve made plans over the phone.

[K] The plan I have for you needs to be made in person.

[L] {Chuckles} Uh oh.

[L] A bar? Seriously? You hanging out at a sewage plant is more believable.

[K] {Laughs} Okay, that’s why you have to believe me! It’s the best time I’ve had in a while.

[L] I’m not buying it.

[K] I ended up there on a whim. We were on Oceanside Ave, and Sybil got in an argument with a bouncer—shocker—so we were looking for somewhere to spend another hour or two. Do you remember Carlo? He was driving by and took us there. Don’t know why I agreed. So glad I did. We left at sunrise.

[L] Not my scene, Kor. Definitely not right now.

[K] I’m asking you now for a reason. The atmosphere is good. It’s not rowdy, and there’s no normies. It’s invite-only. Cozy. You’ll know half the people who party there. It’s artsy, in a way. Just one time.

[L] {Sighs.}

[L] We’d be sorting through Mama’s things at the estate the morning after, if I went with you.

[K] Kind of bitchy to save that excuse for last—can’t argue with it!

{Leonor chuckles}

[L] Not what I meant. It feels like a sign. I’ll give it a chance. Even if I don’t like the place, it’ll be good to see everyone again before I have to go—you know, do that.

[K] I agree. And I promise you’re going to have a good time.

[L] A Kore promise? That’s legally binding. Are you sure?

[K] I’m offended you have to ask.

[thewisebyers]

Mouse Trap (Jason Todd Imagine)

fandom: titans (its honestly the only version of jason i know) prompt: After losing Jason to the Joker, the reader falls right into Red Hood’s trap. ship: past!jason todd x reader, minor connor x reader (its mentioned like once if you squint)  requested?: no but i couldn’t stop thinking about it warnings: death, grief, mentions of wanting to die

A/N: set in season 3, between the first two episodes but before the third (when Hank dies :( rip) but before they've connected Jason with Red Hood, they just know about the red hood attacks

You wanted to scream, yell into the sky and ask why the fuck life had to be so fucking cruel but knew you couldn't, your words would cause physical pain to whoever was closest or whoever you were aiming your words at. And the closest person was you and years of ugly words were already spread across your silver skin. The news had broke about Jason's death and you found out from the fucking television; you had glared at the newscaster on the screen before leaving without looking at any of your teammates. You needed to be alone and luckily your friends understood that because none of them had followed after you.

Or so you had thought; because you had nearly jumped out of your skin when your saw Connor already waiting by your bedroom door. I'm not in the mood, Connor, you sign, your hands doing the talking for you. Memories of teaching Jason how to communicate with you come flooding back and tears threaten to spill out. Connor must sense the tears threatening to escape so he doesn't say anything; instead he just pulled you into a hug. A strong, comforting hug that was almost a little too tight but it was so needed. The warmth of his chest against your face finally made the tears spill out and onto his shirt.

You had been on your own and on the run before the fatefully meeting the Titans, they had been sent to take you down and you had put up a good fight, refusing to use your actual powers until you felt you had to. But as soon as you opened your mouth; you were quickly taken down by Rachel. Your mouth was forced shut, your hands and legs tied together with invisible forces. Luckily, instead of seeing an enemy, the Titans saw a scared teenager and you've been apart of the team ever since. You've never used your powers since that day; your fighting skills were more than enough to help take down a few bad guys. Most of your team had learned sign language to communicate with you but there was still a disconnect with others.

Connor's movements were quick as he picked you up in his arms and brought you into your room. Things were him were complicated since Jason had left the Titans but your feelings about the superboy were the last thing on your mind as he gently laid you on top of your bed. An empty feeling began building inside you as his warmth left your bed. "Do you want me to stay?" Connor asked, his tone was neutral and careful, like he didn't want to upset you any further. You shook your head no and before you heard the door close, you hear Connor say, "Let me know if you need anything." Once you were alone; a sob shook through your body.

You didn't have much time to sort your feelings because soon the you and the rest of the Titans were in Gotham; in the Wayne manor. Now that Bruce was gone, killing the Joker before going, the Titans were in Gotham until further notice. You couldn't help yourself; as soon as you entered the building, you went in search of Jason's room. You'd give anything to feel closer to him again, to breathe in his familiar scent and wash yourself in him. Room after room, you finally find the one you're looking for and tears spill out once you're behind his closed door. It smelled like him; which brought you to your knees on the soft carpet.

++

After a horribly failed bank robbing mission; you needed to get out. You didn't care about the threat of these red hoods going around; you were ready to open your mouth and scream. The thing about not being able to scream and let out your emotions is that it begins to boil over and you're ready to take your anger out on anyone. But you bit your tongue because you couldn't just let it out so instead you found yourself in a bar that you were barely old enough to enter.

The music is too loud but it helps drown out your feelings as you head to the bar, you point to some random drink on their sticky menu that's taped to the counter. As you wait you look around the bar; there's an upstairs which seems like a VIP area but majority of people seem to be dancing on the ground floor. There were couples littered around the dance floor and it made you envious. How dare they be happy and dancing together while your heart felt so heavy? You were in the wrong place if you didn't want to see people be happy so you were trying not to be so bitter.

Once your drink was ready; you paid and tipped but before you could walk away, the bartender spoke, "There's someone in VIP asking for ya." You wouldn't know anyone in VIP, you were sure about that, so you raised an eyebrow. "A Jason, I think? Little fuzzy with names, miss." The drink in your hand threatens to fall at the mention of the name, your heart picks up. But Jason was dead, it couldn't be him. But he was the only Jason you knew. You just nodded and held your drink tighter, closer to you. Did you dare climb the stairs that lead to whoever was up there? Was it a trick?

Curiosity killed the cat and Jason, you thought bitterly as you climbed the stairs, using the railing to help steady your trembling body. You couldn't help the hopefulness that was bubbling inside your body; you'd let yourself be fooled in your grief if it let you be closer to him. Your heart was leading the way, all logic thrown out the window with each step you took. Once at the top of the stairs, you looked around for some other form of life. You didn't realize just how empty it was upstairs, just rows of empty tables and what looked like someone sitting in the back corner of the room. You had a bad feeling yet you gulped your drink to reassure yourself before heading towards the mysterious figure.

You had only taken a few steps before you head began to spin; your world tilting around you. You tried to steady yourself with an empty table but in your dizziness you were completely off and missed the table by a few feet. Your body hit the ground with a thud but your body felt numb and tingly so you could hardly feel the impact of the hard floor. Darkness began to consume your body as the shadow rose from his spot; even in your state you could see a male figure but that's all you could make out before everything went dark.

++

When you finally come to; your body feels like its on fire and there's a stabbing pain coming from your mouth, you can feel the rope tied around your wrists and ankles. You're weak; groggy from the drugs you assumed had been slipped into your drink. How could you be so fucking stupid? The mention of Jason and you had become completely weak; you hated yourself for that. Once you're fully aware of your situation, you begin to look around the unfamiliar room. There wasn't much to it; a basic abandoned building with graffiti scattered around.

"Pity," a voice makes your head turn and you realize you're not alone. So this was the Red Hood that was causing all the chaos in Gotham and you fell right into his game. And you had made it so easy. "I thought the Silver Tongue would be a bigger threat but little mouse-y fell right into the trap." You open your mouth to speak but quickly realize why you were in such excruciating pain (how you hadn't realized when you had first woken up was beyond you); you tongue had been cut from mouth. "Cat got your tongue?" he laughed.

Panic began to set as tears rolled down your face; you began to thrash in your restraints as Red Hood closed the distance between the two of you. He was laughing as you squirmed against the cold ground. "Sorry, not sorry," he said, grabbing your hair in his hand and held your head in place, holding a gun to the side of your head with his other hand. "Tell-" he paused to laugh again; you wanted to kill him. You were embarrassed and angry you had let him get you in this position but mostly at yourself. You wanted to die; you silently prayed he'd pull the trigger but you knew it wouldn't come. It was all a game and you were bait; he needed you alive to send a message. "Tell the Titans this is a warning." But before you could react, he hit his gun against the side of your head, successfully knocking you out for a second time.

++

When you come to for the second time; you wake up with your teammates surrounding you. You were back in Wayne Manor; your head spinning as people rushed to your aid. All you could think about was your ripped out tongue, they probably didn’t know about that yet. Everyone was talking at once; asking if you were alright, saying you had been gone for hours and you had just shown up unconscious on the manor's front steps. You opened your mouth to show your missing tongue; answering their questions without any other explanation. You pretended to pull a hood over your head; telling them exactly who did this to you.

#titans imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #hbo titans #hbo titans imagine #red hood x reader #titans x reader #jason todd oneshot #jason todd fanfic #red hood #happy birthday jason todd

[therizino-ao3]

2023 Halloween Gift Exchange

My gift for @greenscreen-dress for @mcyt-halloween !

Summary: xB is invited back to his home server for a ceremony. Joe and Cleo come along to make things more bearable.

“Ohh, son of a…”

“What is it, man?” says Cub, sliding over to xB to see what he’s reading on his communicator.

“It’s just a family thing, kind of annoying though,” he scrolls through the message, taking in the details. Cub glances at it, but looks away as soon as he realises this isn’t something he’ll understand.

“What sort of family thing?” Gem asks, from across the Decked Out hallway, where she and Cleo are doing… something. xB doesn’t know what it is, but it involves wooden swords and their decks on the floor and an armour stand that he thinks is supposed to be Tango? They used a blue bath-towel instead of a robe.

“Guardian coming of age ritual, involving one of my cousins,” he sighs, flicking his tail back and forth, “The point is I’ll have to go back to my family’s server and meet everyone and it’s going to be a whole Thing.”

“I mean, xB, if you don’t want to do it, just don’t go? If you don’t like your biological family, you shouldn’t feel obligated to visit them,” Cleo says, messing with the Tango armour stand as they speak.

“I like some of my family. Not all of them are bad. But yeah it’s, mm,” he purses his lips together, thinking of what to say, “I do want to stay in contact, but as long as I do that, they’ll expect me to go to coming of age rituals. And it isn’t that bad on it’s own but some of them are just very… traditional. And judgemental. But, it isn’t the end of the world? It’s just… a Thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. The Vex sometimes can sometimes be, uh, very overbearing,” Cub says, from his spot, crammed into an indent in the wall.

 “Hm, yeah,” Cleo pauses, either pondering what she should say or whether she should stab the Tango armour stand, “Maybe, if you want, one of us could come with you? Just to make the whole thing more bearable. I wouldn’t mind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guardian city in-person before.”

“Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea,” Cleo’s presence is calming - in a no-nonsense, sarcastic way. The only time he’s ever brought someone with him to his home server was Keralis, ages ago on a holiday, which looking back on, was a horrible decision. Cleo, however, he thinks is far more mature than Keralis, and will only steal people’s possessions if necessary, “I mean, will you be free this Saturday afternoon?”

She smiles.

World hopping has developed a lot over the past century, which is nice. xB remembers when a trip across a galaxy would take a few weeks, but now, it’s only a few hours. It’s incredibly convenient since, in true hermit fashion, they always choose very distant planets for their worlds. His ship’s on autopilot and the estimated arrival time is two hours, fifteen minutes. He can chill. He watches the little map on the GUI, the ship zooming past various named star systems. His passengers, behind him, are also chilling. Passengers, plural, because Cleo wanted to drag Joe along too. Which, wasn’t the plan, but xB couldn’t say he was too surprised when Cleo and Joe both showed up to his ship. Like, you can’t get one without the other. They’re sold as a pair. He hears them arguing, something about the difference between a gravestone and a cenotaph. Cleo says they’ll break Joe’s legs. Joe starts talking faster, pleading for his life.

At the very least, xB’s home world is beautiful. As they approach it at last, it turns from a perfect blue circle to a painter’s dream – miles and miles of beaches and sea. There’s no considerable landmass on it greater than a few square miles, and all that’s on those are ship docks and tourism centres, everything else is in the water. He parks, opens the doors, and breathes in the salty sea air. It burns his nose, but in a refreshing and nostalgic way.

“We’re here! In case you haven’t noticed,” he says, but he knows they have, especially since Joe has spent the last twenty minutes trying to take pictures of the planet through the tiny windows.

“Oh wow,” Cleo steps out, “I will say, in terms of places to visit, this certainly isn’t the worst for looks.”

Joe steps out after, running out a bit further to take pictures of the sea. xB giggles, “Now the question is, will your opinion change when you meet the family.”

“Oh gods yeah, that’s gonna be, uh,” she laughs and shakes her head, “Well, we’ll be here for you, xB. And on that note, what is our story going to be?”

“Our story?”

“Yeah, like, why we’re here with you. Are we just saying we’re friends coming along because we wanted to visit?” Cleo pauses, before gasping, “Oh! I could pretend to be your annoying girlfriend! That would be fun.”

“Hey now, if you’re xB’s partner, what would that make me?”

“Oh Joe, you can be with xB too. I’m sure we can share him,” she ruffles Joe’s hair, “I mean, if you’re alright with that, xB.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” he’s laughing, “That does sound interesting.”

Whilst Cleo and Joe are arguing about the details of their very real relationship with xB, he is busy sorting out actually important things, like how Cleo and Joe are going to get to the monument. Every urban area has conduit-powered water, but for such a deep and lengthy swim, they’re still going to need equipment. He’s packed hour-lasting water breathing and resistance potions, to reduce any issues with suffocation and pressure; specialist helmets with goggles for seeing in dark environments, enchanted with aqua-infinity, and with built-in translation software so they can both understand and speak water-tongue; and flip-flops enchanted with depth strider for easy movement. It takes a further ten minutes for xB to get them to properly equip the stuff and acclimatise to breathing in the water. Then, they’re ready to go.

xB leads them down, following the currents to the monument. It’s mainly a smell thing, because the monument is the most populated thing in this area of the ocean, and you can definitely tell, but he also knows the way off by heart.

“Alright, just checking you can hear me alright?” he asks in water-tongue – a deep, chittering language that works solely for water – now they’re a decent bit down it’s worth checking Joe and Cleo actually know what’s going on.

Cleo gives a thumbs up, whilst Joe responds, “Loud and clear!” through the robotic voice from the helmet. It sounds a little crunchy. xB wonders if that’s it struggling to translate Joe’s accent.

They keep swimming down, until the monument leers in front of them. It’s far more impressive than the ones inhabited by regular guardians, with this one being twice the size with twice the colours and covered in flickering neon lights. He feels Joe and Cleo stop, presumably looking on in wonder. He supposes it’s pretty impressive if it’s your first time seeing one, but given he’s spent too many years living there, and has seen some five times more impressive in bigger cities, it’s just a regular building to him. They start swimming again, xB careful to keep the three of them in the “incoming” current. Small settlements and businesses rest on the seafloor below them, branching out around the monument, but most people will be living inside it.

They take the top entrance, xB telling the guards they’re here for tessC Crafted’s ceremony and the three of them are let in without trouble.

“The guards are more for display, than anything,” he says to Joe and Cleo once they’re inside the monument and alone in the winding corridors, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them refuse anyone in, they just deter criminals by being there.”

“Right,” Cleo says, glancing around, “Good to know! I’ll just be staying right by you, so I don’t get lost, because this place is an absolute maze.”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah,” he laughs, “There’s no structure, you just learn where everything is by living here.”

“So where are we going now?” Joe asks.

“The main hall, it’s got like, a big platform in the centre and a bunch of seats,” he takes a sudden left turn, making Joe and Cleo quickly swerve after him, “You just kind of wander around and talk to people, and then everyone sits down, and the ceremony begins.”

“So, it’s like a wedding?” Cleo says, slight uncertainty in her voice.

“Um, I guess?” xB says, about to elaborate further, before the hallway opens up into a massive chamber. Several rows of flat seats wrap in a horseshoe shape around a long walkway, raised several metres above the seats nearest, leading into the back of the wall where there’s a door for the ceremony participants to emerge.

The noise is the most prominent thing, chittering bouncing off the walls and coming back in an incoherent blabble. He imagines Joe and Cleo won’t even be hearing this, it’s so indecipherable the software won’t bother to translate it. It’s no surprise it’s so loud, with hundreds of people in here. Technically, its only mandatory that the family of the person involved come, but everyone living nearby tends to, both as an act of community support and because free food is served throughout. Since xB is family, they’ll be right at the front on the bottom seats. He leads his friends down there, picking out a free-ish spot for them. With less people being at the bottom of the hall, it’s easier to hear things.

“Why, xB, you came,” a voice booms from behind him, belonging to none other than his biological mother. Great.

“Uh, hello. Joe, Cleo, this is my mother, beK Crafted,” he grabs his friends’ arms, making sure they’re here for this conversation, “And, mother,” he pauses for a second, wondering if he really wants to go this route, before remembering he has no fucks to give, “This is my girlfriend Cleo, and her partner Joe.”

“Oh, don’t be so humble, my Angel Pie xB! Joe is your boyfriend too!” for good measure, she even ruffles his hair as they say it, and it takes everything he has in him to not burst out laughing. She turns to his mother, holding out her hand, “Hi! I’m Cleo! I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Right,” his mother tentatively shakes Cleo’s hand, looking down on it like she might catch a disease. This is going far better than xB ever imagined.

“I – on the other hand – have heard nothing about you! xB has never mentioned you to me! This is a wonderful night to meet!” Joe says, grabbing his mother’s other hand to shake at the same time. He’s doing it far too fast, jerking her arm up and down.

His mother wrinkles her nose and steps back, flicking the hands off her, “Right. It’s good that you’re here and that you’ve-” she does nothing to hide the disappointment in her tone, “Brought some other people around. Make sure to introduce yourself to everybody, I’m sure your uncle rK would love to see you.”

His mother quickly swims away, to nearly the other side of the hall.

Cleo turns to him, “Was that a success?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Usually she goes on super long rants to me, or brings up about when I’ll be having grandkids, so it’s nice to have skipped all that.”

“Oh geez, are you sure you want to come to these things?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I don’t take any of it to heart, it’s just annoying,” they both nod, but still look rather unconvinced.

They continue talking to xB’s other family members, in a way that has made this kind of thing far more enjoyable than it has been in a long time, with everyone reacting to Cleo’s ridiculous pet names with either obvious distress or approval, some even finding her charming, somehow. It’s nice to be able to catch up with his more reasonable family members, and anyone annoying Joe scares off with his passionate talks of eighteenth-century poetry. They have a good time.

The lights begin to dim and xB ushers Joe and Cleo to sit. Whilst the rest of the chamber grows dark, the walkway lights up and the door slides open. Stumbling and shambling, xB’s cousin emerges and makes the harrowing walk to the end of the platform. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was sick: desaturated skin, tattered fins, and dead eyes. It’s obvious she’s just about to undergo metamorphosis though, with her juvenile external fins fluttering in the water.

She collapses as soon as she reaches the spot, body completely relaxing until she looks like a ragdoll. Some soft tearing sounds echo through the water.

“What’s going on?” Cleo whispers to him.

“She’s about to grow into her new body,” he says,” Just… watch.”

Cleo turns back to tessC, transfixed. At her back, a new, pale growth emerges from the ripped skin. It grows and grows, until it becomes evident it is, in fact, her back, and her arms and legs come with it too. She’s covered in spines and the tail that forces itself out of the body is far longer than it once was. Eventually, her head frees itself too, and there are no signs of the external fins anymore. She pushes herself onto her feet and makes a noise, somewhat like a growl, triumphant over her old body. Her limbs still look so wobbly and crooked and her tail hasn’t quite filled itself out yet, it’ll take a few hours for her new self to settle into shape.

“Oh wow,” Joe murmurs, “I didn’t know guardians did that.”

“Yeah, metamorphosis into adult form,” xB says, looking around for the elders, “I remember mine. It really hurt. They’ll just need to choose the sacrifice and then we should be done.”

“Hold on, sacrifice?” Cleo whips her head around.

“Yeah? After someone sheds their skin, another person is chosen for them to test their claws on. Like, they don’t die, most of the time, but it is pretty brutal.”

“That, feels like something you should have mentioned before coming here? Some guy just gets ripped to shreds every time this happens?”

“I- Oh yeah. It completely slipped my mind. Um, if it makes you feel better, you won’t get picked? They won’t have your name down, it’ll just be me. And in all my years, I’ve never been picked, it’s really unlikely.”

The elders, on a balcony looking over everything, read out from a piece of paper, “This year’s sacrifice shall be… xB Crafted!”

Joe hums, “Wow, way to jinx things!”

Cleo grabs his arm, “Yeah, no way am I letting you get hurt because of these idiots, come on!” she tugs him upward, kicking as much as she can.

xB doesn’t falter, the survivalist in him knowing he has to escape now if he wants a chance. He snatches Joe’s hand and starts swimming, thrashing his tail as hard as he can. He can feel the water ripple around him, others trying to catch up to them and catch them, you weren’t really supposed to try and escape, and all. He couldn’t bring his usual guns, being under the water and all, but he does have a rather nice harpoon gun, however, he doesn’t really want to attack his family members and former friends unless he has to. Cleo, on the other hand, managed to smuggle in her sword and doesn’t hold back swinging at people in her way. They escape the great hall, diving into the corridors, and xB takes special care to not let go of Joe or Cleo as he takes twisting routes to cover their tail. They zoom out a small, unguarded exit xB discovered himself many years ago, near the bottom of the monument. He doesn’t dare slow their pace, charging through the water, practically carrying a panting Joe and Cleo, until they reach the island they landed on.

“We’re out,” he says, flopping onto the surface, “Don’t bother to take your stuff off now, just hop in and I’ll take off. They’ll give up pursuit once we leave the surface.”

They both nod in response and xB hops inside, fiddling with the controls and inputting the co-ordinates of their Season 8 planet. Thankfully, they take off with no issues.

“xB,” Joe says as soon as he’s got his helmet off, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… fine.”

“Really?” Joe tries to raise an eyebrow, but he can’t, so he just makes a weird face.

“Yeah, well, a little sad,” he admits, “I definitely won’t be able to return now. I mean, I know it’s probably for the best? But, like, there’s still that feeling that I’ve lost something, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Joe isn’t following the correct safety protocols for space travel, instead opting to stand behind xB and rest his hand on his shoulder.

“Just remember that we’ll always be here for you, alright?” Cleo says and the thought does cheer him up, because they’re right. He’ll give himself a little time to grieve, but really, there isn’t anything those stuck-up guardian folk could’ve given him that his friends can’t. He probably had more fun today, because of Joe and Cleo, than he has had in every other family gathering combined. He hears Joe recount some lines from a classic and Cleo groans, and, well, maybe it isn’t beautiful blue planet with gorgeous underwater cities, but it still makes him pretty happy.

#happy halloween! #I went very heavy on the worldbuilding on this one. but I figured you'd like that? #whilst I like the creativity of it personally I don't tend to like settings where they're explicitly in a video game #so its a bit sci-fi (Ren's hermethius planet travelling lore) and a bit fantasy (potions and enchantments and hybrids) #I also put a decent bit of thought into the guardian hybrid naming constructs! #you have the prefix (given name. lowercase) and the suffix (“dominant”/older parent's first initial. uppercase) of the first name #and the last name is the “family name”. Families being decently large groups of all vaguely related people #prefixes tend to range between 1-4 letters #more thoughts would be here but I am TIRED #uh. can I post this to ao3? If you're okay with that ofc! if you have an account there let me know I'll do it as a gift #therizino writes #mcyt halloween #hermitcraft fic #hermitcraft #xbcrafted #zombie cleo #joe hills

[cyanidesymphoniesxylophones]

I'm pretty new to humans are space orks so apologies if this has been done before. What about a retired - still young just decided to lead a peaceful life - mercanary human who works on an alien space ship and one seemingly normal day the ship is attacked by space pirates (or something of that sort, don't let my prompt stunt your creativity!) that bord the ship and the seemingly harmless human has to pick up the craft they had left behind so long ago?

I saw you post on not being afraid to just ask when we have an idea so figured I'd shoot my shot. Have a nice day or night!

This made me realize Trials in Tainted Space (cw: nsfw, drug trade, several human rights violations mentioned) is just a humans are space orcs game.

But in that scenario:

"Pirates?! What are pirates doing in the civilian sector?"

"What else, you damned ossan, they're about to rob the civilians!"

Terran Jared had heard of these before, pirates who have nothing left to lose and everything to gain by robbing the defenseless civilians in specialized sectors of star systems, all around the galaxy. These pirates were not like the one that took his arm, he thought as he clenched his fist. Although the retirement brought him a newly regenerated arm, it seems like he'll be losing it again soon.

"Oi, dogears. Bring me my case."

"First of all, how dare you call me dog ears, I'm not an Ausar, and second, which case? You humans cherish your things too much, man." The dog eared Kaithrit seemed ready to run and get the Terran's case.

"The one that looks scuffed as hell, the case that you called dusty and old." Jared grinned, making the Kaithrit shiver slightly. He's not used to seeing Terrans smile yet, he's just a new recruit to the crew.

"What could you possibly have in that case that could help us out?!"

•=•

As a matter of fact, a lot of things in that case helped out plenty in the battle that will be written as evidence of the Terran's foolhardiness and bravery: The day that one single human took care of a handful of pirates that invaded civilian space. Not alone, of course, it also helped that the pirates were nothing more than brats desperate enough to attempt a raid on civilians, but were disciplined soon enough by Jared Rouge, former mercenary and combat expert from a subsidiary of Steele Tech.

——

Credit is due where credits are due. The Ausar race, the Kaithrit race and Steele Tech is part of the aforementioned game in the post, Trials in Tainted Space. (Or TITS for short. It's nsfw, so don't complain about it on my post.)

#humans are space oddities #humans are space fae #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #trials in tainted space #i wanted to write more but my keyboard acted up #anyways ill try to launch longer stories next time

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Sweet dreams (part 2)

Usopp x reader. This is part two of two. This fic is dedicated to the lovely @ushoppu.

Neru means to sleep in Japanese - or at least I hope!

*****

The instructions you have received said to dock at a tiny pier hidden among the trees; from there you would easily find the path to reach your destination.

According to collective memory, Koa had been owned by a rich, antisocial businessman who, having retired, had had a large villa built on the islet and then lived there completely alone, save for a single boat that brought him provisions once a week, for twenty years. After the man’s death, Koa had been uninhabited for decades, until a band of bandits had taken possession of it, and from then on no one had ever dared challenging their ownership.

You really wish you could do the same, steering clear of that place and remaining safe and happy on the Merry with your friends, but fate had other plans for you, and as you tie one end of the rope the boat’s owner gave you to a bollard next to the tiny pier, you can’t help wondering what your friends are -what Usopp is- doing right now. It is still too early for the others to have returned to the ship, which means he is still sleeping soundly in the warehouse, safe and oblivious to your broken heart and the shame filling it; you couldn’t have done otherwise, not given what is at stake, but you know you will never forgive yourself for the pain you have caused -well, that you will cause, as soon as he wakes up and realises you have left- to a person you cared so much about and who felt the same for you. Will Usopp think you have deceived him, and realise you have kept the powers of the Devil Fruit you have eaten secret from the rest of the crew? 

Will he believe the feelings you have expressed for him were a lie? 

This is what pains you the most, and fills you with helpless rage; the fact that Usopp won’t even remember you with affection, but rather he will probably rue the day he met you, convinced that you only kissed him, and spoke of love, to catch him off guard and steal the elephant statuette -that blasted statuette- without him stopping you.

Nothing could be farther from the truth; but your sniper will never know.

With a sigh, you make sure the object obtaining which caused you so much pain is still safe in your backpack before starting the trek along the cobbled path, almost hidden in the overgrown grass, that leads to the villa that the bandits elected as their lair, and where their leader asked you to meet them. The place is deserted, lush vegetation surrounding you as you walk, small animals peeking among the bushes to observe your passage; there is a sort of wild, pristine beauty to this island, rolling hills surrounding a tiny valley, fields where wild horses run and the flora is free to grow without danger of pruning shears or landscapers. You can see why a man who had been surrounded by people and the bustle of a big city would want to spend his old age here, but you are not in the mood to appreciate the beauty of Koa’s views; you are here to complete what is without a doubt the most important task of you life, and you can’t wait to leave as soon as possible.

You reach the villa at the end of a twenty minutes trek, walking past a large open gate; the building, still grandiose despite the evident state of neglect it has been left in for decades, is surrounded by a circle of enormous jasmine trees -jasmine; like your favourite tea, like the tea Usopp has prepared for you only a few hours ago- but you have no time to admire them before a soft rustling reaches your ears, and a moment later the blade of a dagger flies past you, brushing against your left ear.

You expected it; and still, you can’t help screaming. “What the hell?!”

“This is to remind you we are not joking.” a voice answers from the entrance of the villa, still fifteen paces away - too far for your powers to work, which is probably why the bandit decided to attack now; the man grins, clearly aware of the position of inferiority he has forced you into. You mentally insult him, wishing him the most painful death possible and an even worse life after it. 

“I am not joking either.” you point out, forcing yourself to remain calm, because there is so much at stake, too much for you to lose your cool now and ruin everything “I have what you asked for.”

“Leave it there and take ten steps back.”

“Like hell. First I want to make sure she is fine.”

The man smiles, as if appreciating your courage - or your apparent inability to perceive the danger that surrounds you. “You are alone, I have twenty men at my orders.” he points out jovially; behind him, you can see other heads peeking out, other men ready to kill you and then forget about it by the next morning “I could kill you without even having to approach.”

You can’t deny he is right, but you also have an ace up your sleeve. You can feel the head bandit’s eyes on you as you unhurriedly take off your backpack, place it on the ground, open it and retrieve the elephant marble statuette, still warm to the touch; you raise it high above your head, letting all the men who are observing you see it, and then pretend to let it fall on the ground.

The head bandit screams; a satisfied smile appears on your face. 

“As I thought.” you point out, smiling sweetly at the man who is now glaring menacingly at you “Listen, you can have this damn thing; I don’t care. But first I want to see her.”

Your interlocutor reflects for a moment before nodding. “Count to one-hundred and then enter.” he instructs you “Cross the corridor you will see in front of you; walk slowly and do not approach anyone unless I tell you. No funny business, or she dies.”

You remain silent as the men stand back, counting softly in your mind; by the time you start walking you are shaking, hopeful and at the same time terrified of what you might be facing in a minute. One last effort, you try to comfort yourself; if you play your cards right, soon you’ll both be far from this horrible place. 

You didn’t expect the bandits to keep the same standards of decorum and cleanliness as the old master of the islet, but even outlaws have to recognise there are benefits to order and hygiene, and while many pieces of furniture have been damaged, the walls despoiled of any precious object and piles of weapons, provisions and who knows what else spread around, the building does seem to be well-maintained, a hole on the ceiling repaired and all the windows still intact. 

As instructed, you slowly cross a long empty corridor, a lurid carpet under your boots, that opens on what must have once been the villa’s living room, a spacious chamber with a large fireplace and a table large enough to sit at least ten people - unexpected, given the old master’s preference for solitude.

The head bandit stares at you, surrounded by a dozen of his men; he’s a mature individual, with long black hair in a ponytail and facial features that unexpectedly remind you of your father, as if you didn’t hate this bastard enough already. By his side, close enough for him to press the barrel of the gun in his hand against her temple without having to move, is a woman kneeling on the floor, with her hands tied behind her back; she’s not blindfolded, though, nor gagged, which allows her to see you, open her eyes wide and scream.

“(NAME)!”

“Mom!” you cry in return; for a moment the relief to see her kept prisoner and clearly shaken, but alive and relatively healthy, is intense enough to make your legs tremble. Then, a surge of anger fills you, as well as an homicidal instinct for a moment you struggle to control. How dare they? How dare they hurt an innocent, a kind woman who has never hurt anyone and who, besides having a horrible taste in men, has done nothing to deserve such torment? 

“Let her go first.”

Rationally, you know you have no hope of winning against so many foes, not to mention that you’ll also need to protect your mother to make sure she returns home safe and sound, but nothing would make you happier than killing them all, especially when you notice the black bruises on her face, a sign of the abuses she must have been subjected to “You bastards! What have you done…?”

The head bandit’s gun presses against your mother’s temple, hard enough to make her stumble. “I don’t think you’re in the position to make accusations.” he points out with a grin, surrounded by the laughs of his comrades “Now leave the elephant on the floor.”

“Leave the elephant on the floor, I said, if you don’t want me to shoot your mom right now. Then walk back and return to the pier; I’ll make sure this little thing is actually what they say, and then I’ll send her to join you.”

Actually what they say; that is, a powerful amulet, remnant of an ancient civility whose priests, it is said, used it for a ritual that allowed them to do extraordinary things, like killing people instantly in any part of the world, transform any material in gold and even bring the dead back to life. You struggle to believe that apparently harmless trinket is actually endowed with such power and, in that case, you don’t even want to know what a cruel and clearly unscrupulous man like the head bandit will use the amulet for, but you force yourself not to think about it, because saving your mother is more important than anything else in the world. 

He wants you to leave, leaving both the amulet and your mother in his hands; you hesitate, aware that in that case you’ll be even more at a disadvantage than you already are, and at the same time that you have no way to bargain. They’re going to kill her either way, you think desperately, to make sure she tells no one about the amulet and simply because they can. It’s not fair, nothing of it is, but you don’t know what else to do…

“Well?! You have heard me, girl! Leave that thing on the floor and walk away. You don’t want your mother to…”

He has no time to utter the whole threat, because a moment later the window closer to the men explodes, a rain of shards of glass falling on the bandits; a projectile must have been thrown from the outside breaking it, but not a rock, or another inanimate object.

It is Luffy.

Using his gum body as a slingshot, probably having climbed one of the jasmine trees outside, your -now former?- captain catapults himself inside, landing heavily on the floor between you and your mother. He looks at you, indifferent to the consternation his arrival has provoked and the cries of surprise and alarm around you; he doesn’t ask questions, but grins, and immediately turns to hit one of the bandits, who has jumped on him whirling a sword around, with his Gum-Gum Pistol. A moment later the rest of the crew runs in through the door behind you.

Chaos explodes.

They came. They came for you, you realise, observing your friends fight the bandits bravely despite the high numerical disadvantage, they have every reason to believe you have betrayed and abandoned them, and nonetheless Luffy and the others have rushed to your aid; the knowledge fills you with shame and guilt, aware that you don’t deserve that devotion, and at the same time with happiness - and hope.

You see Usopp with the others, and he sees you, but even if you had the time to talk to him about what you did you wouldn’t dare to; so you look away, and run towards your mother, now almost alone given the fact most of the bandits are now busy fighting your friends. One of the few who instinctively remained close to the prisoner rushes towards you, a large dagger in his hand. You don’t even think about neutralising him -temporarily- with your powers; you are livid, completely infuriated with these men who dared hurting the only family you ever had, and this gives you a courage and a strength the rest of the time you wouldn’t even dare hoping for. 

On a table nearby are placed a few tankards of wine and a large flagon, no doubt remnants of the bandits’ last meal; lightning-fast, you grab the flagon, which you then use as a blunt weapon smashing it on the bandit’s face, avoiding his dagger’s lounge by an inch. Your mother screams, horrified, but the blow is fortunately violent enough to make the man fall at your feet, unconscious, while you quickly retrieve the dagger and use it to free your mother’s wrists. She throws her arms at you, sobbing. “Oh, (name)... oh, my… (name)...” 

“I’m so sorry, mom…” you answer as you hold her close, too scared to ask what exactly those men have done to her. You take her hand to lead her to Nami, who is using her staff to knock bandits twice as heavy as her around.

“Bring her to the ship! Please, take care of her.” you beg; you could take care of it yourself, since after all your mother should be your responsibility, but you don’t want your friends to be left alone fighting your battle for you. Nami nods, instantly understanding your reasoning. 

“No! Please, (name), you need to come too!” your mother begs, clinging to you as if afraid to see you slip away; she hasn’t changed much since you left home two years ago, but you have never seen her so scared “Please…”

“It’s going to be alright, mom; I need to help the others.” you explain urgently “Go with Nami, I’ll join you soon, I promise.”

She finally relents, and you see Nami leading her out of the room, Luffy quickly shielding them from the men who try to stop them. Another bandit jumps on you, throwing you to the ground; you hit your head, the man’s hands close around your throat, and suddenly breathing is the hardest thing you have ever done.

“You damn girl!” the man, an older individual with a pockmarked face, yells; he is probably going to kill you in less than a minute, but unfortunately for him, he has done what his leader was wise enough to avoid: he entered your sphere of action, which is why you, already light-headed thanks to the lack of oxygen, grab his forearms with your hands.

Sleep. You can’t utter the words out loud, but you don’t need to, the intention is enough, and a moment later the man falls on you -dammit!- already dead to the world. You struggle to free yourself from his weight, and you succeed… thanks to Usopp’s help, who has rushed to you. He is hurt, a cut on his temple bleeding, and he looks as scared as you feel, but he smiles at you, happy and relieved, and your eyes fill with tears.

“Usopp… Usopp, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright. That was your mom, right? You needed the statuette to save her.” he quickly summarises; you both look around, seeing Luffy, Sanji and Zoro who fight desperately to contain the enemies as more and more bandits enter the room, having been alerted by the noise; they can’t do it, you think desperately, the Straw Hat Pirates are strong and resourceful but the enemies are many times their numbers, they will be overpowered and then…

“You need to make them sleep.” Usopp says, and you blink. 

“What?”

“This is what you can do, right? You make people fall asleep.” he insists, and then blushes, no doubt remembering what exactly was happening when you used your power on him “You need to do it to all of them, (name), or we’ll never get out of this island alive.”

“I can’t.” you admit helplessly, ashamed of having put your friends in danger without being able to help them “I need to be very close to a person to make them fall asleep, and I have never tried to use my power on so many people together…”

“(name).”

Suddenly Usopp’s hands are cradling yours; he is scared, and either unable or unwilling to hide it, but when he looks at you, in his lovely brown eyes you can see trust, deep and sincere: trust you will help your friends, and overcome limits you didn’t know you had.

“You can do it.” he murmurs, tense but smiling “I am sure you can.”

Well. How can you say no? You can’t, simply, and a moment later you see Luffy surrounded by bandits, their leader raising his sword towards him, and your captain is more than strong enough to wipe the floor with him, but he is alone against so many of them, and Zoro and Sanji are too busy with adversaries of their own to help…

And then, a moment later, a veritable mountain of a man jumps on Usopp, punching him hard on the face. Your friend doesn’t even have the time to avoid it; he lies on the ground, unmoving in front of your horrified eyes, and the bandit is pointing a gun at him to…

“SLEEP! ALL OF YOU!” you scream, the words exploding out of your mouth while every ounce of willpower and energy in your possession pushes forward, activating your power “FALL ASLEEP NOW!”

Your power engulfs the room, an essentially harmless but violent wave that passes through the armed men around you, instantly making them pass out without them even noticing. 

You have instinctively closed your eyes, hands pressed to your ears to exclude any noise and distraction as you focus; you remain still, waiting and fearing, and a few long seconds later you start hearing it.

Thud.

THUD. 

Thud-thud. 

Clang. 

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“What the…?”

Usopp stands slowly, still shaken as he looks at the bandit who fell next to him; had he stayed awake for two seconds more, he thinks, the man would have shot him in the face.

“(name).” he murmurs, circling your shoulder with his arm “It’s alright; you can open your eyes.”

You force yourself to obey, and relief washes over you as you see the unmoving bodies of the bandits lying around, having fallen on the spot; you see Zoro prodding one of them with his foot, and Luffy even squats next to another to lift his eyelid. 

“How long are they going to sleep?”

“I am not sure.” you admit “When I use my power with so much intensity normally a person sleeps for at least ten hours, unless they hear a very loud noise or you slap them hard. But I had never done it on so many people at the same time, and this could diminish the effect.”

“We better leave as soon as we can.” Usopp suggests.

You nod. “I also need to make sure my mom is alright.” you point out; you have many things to say to your friends, explanations to give and forgiveness to ask, but that can wait until you have reached the Merry and sailed, leaving Koa and its inhabitants behind you.

Usopp smiles at you, vaguely shy, and this is when you both realise he is still keeping his arms around you; when he stands back, embarrassed, you mourn the contact as if you had lost something precious.

“Let’s go then.” Luffy urges you all, and you silently follow the others out of the room, leaving the almost comatose bodies of the bandits in your wake. 

*

Nobody speaks, beyond the immediate needs to unfurl the sails and have someone help you carry the boat down the stepladder and to the wharf, where you return it to its owner; glancing secretly at your friends, you can easily see they have realised everything you did was to save your mother, which they can’t reproach you for, but you still fear your betrayal has ruined everything… that the others will never be able to see you as one of them again, and you’ll soon be asked to leave the crew.

Not to mention whatever could have happened between you and Usopp is now destined to remain an unfulfilled dream; you don’t regret what you have done, since your mom is now safe and sound, but you just need to think back to the first, sweet kiss the two of you shared, and the way you have then broken his heart after he had confessed his feelings for you, to feel shame filling your heart.

Yes, it’d be better for all if you leave, you think, trying to comfort yourself as you cover your mother with a blanket; you have helped her clean herself, brought her something to drink to soothe her nerves, and led her to your cabin so she can rest.

“The captain says we can accompany you home, even if it’ll take a while.”

“There’s no need; if we reach a bigger island, and you can lend me the berries to buy a ticket, I can take a ferry.” she answers, smiling gratefully at you “Even though I’ll be happy if we can spend some time together. I really need to thank your friends for their help; please don’t take it personally, (name), but if it weren’t for them…”

“... they would have killed us. I know.” you finish for her with a sigh as you sit on the edge of the bed, still holding her hand; she is safe, shaken but all things considered healthy, but -or maybe exactly for this reason- you feel more ready to cry than ever. 

“Don’t, darling; there is no need.”

“I’m so sorry, mom; forgive me, everything that happened was my fault…”

Patient and comforting like she has always been, your mom points out that is absolutely not true; after all, you couldn’t have known the bandits had seen you by chance using your powers, and decided you were exactly what they needed to retrieve the elephant statuette, saving them both the effort and the danger that entailed. Of course, she didn’t enjoy being taken prisoner, and used as leverage to force you to obey, but thank all the Gods -and the Straw Hat Pirates- she is safe, and you should be proud of yourself for the way you have been able to defend yourself.

“Look at you; in these two years you have grown so much, you have become a woman.” she says, holding your face in her hands “Braver, and more assertive, perfectly capable of taking care of yourself; I’m so proud of you, (name); and now you’re part of the crew of a powerful pirate! Your friends seem like really good people.”

“Oh, they are; just… well, I’m not sure I’ll be allowed to remain in the crew after this.” you admit, eyes low on your lap “They came to help me, because like you said they are good people, but I betrayed them, technically speaking I even used them, and I don’t think that U… that Luffy and the others can forgive me…” 

Your mother doesn’t answer; she looks at you with the same fond but stern expression of when, a decade ago, she told you that no, she couldn’t help you do your homework, you had to find the right answer alone. 

“You should sleep for a while now, mom.”

“I will; I really need it. I’m so happy you’re alright, (name).”

You share an embrace before you leave the cabin and walk to the kitchen, hoping to drink a glass of water before facing the rest of the crew to tender your resignation, saving them the effort to kick you out…

“Sit down.”

… and find yourself face to face with Luffy and the others, sitting around the kitchen table, their expressions stern and unforgiving; they are going to put you on trial, you realise as you silently take place on your usual seat, next to Usopp, and you probably deserve it.

You could hear a pin drop in the room until Nami clears her voice. “Tell us the truth, (name).” she urges you “All the truth, from the beginning.”

And you do; it is like taking a huge weight off your shoulders.

“I left home two years ago to be a pirate and an adventurer; my mother was alright with it, wanting me to find my own way, and I wrote and sent her gifts from my travels regularly. Then suddenly, a little more than three months ago, a man approached me out of a large city; he showed me pictures of my mother, bound and gagged. He and his friends had seen what I could do, so they had kidnapped her, and they would only set her free once I had taken care of a certain business for them, using my…

Right. My powers, I should tell you guys about them. I found a Devil Fruit just a few days before I had decided I would leave home - a sign that I was doing the right thing, I thought, since so many pirates have gotten their powers from them; in retrospect, I was probably wrong. In any case, I found this fruit on a tree behind my house; it was the Neru Neru no Mi, and it gives me the ability to make anyone I touch, or if I try really hard anyone who is standing less than a few feet from me, fall asleep there and then. People can sleep from twenty minutes to twelve hours, depending on how much effort I put into it, and in some cases the only way to wake them up before their time is to spill a bucket of cold water on them. I have never hurt anyone, but I wasn’t particularly discreet in using my powers, which must be how the bandits realised I could be useful.

They told me about the treasure we retrieved a week ago, and that, beyond the berries and the gems, the most precious object that was part of it was a marble statuette endowed with incredible powers. Once I had retrieved the statuette, I was to bring it to the island of Koa, and then exchange it with my mother. I told the pirates I would never make it, that if the treasure was guarded by monsters and other traps it was way beyond my powers, no matter how dearly I wanted to save my mother, but they didn’t care; I had three months, and I had to come today - not before, not after, otherwise they would kill her. 

Still. This was only a few days before I met you guys, and when you, Luffy, offered me to join the crew, I thought fortune had smiled on me; I quickly realised how strong and resourceful you were, and that if you guys helped me, retrieving the treasure, and the statuette, was not impossible. This is why I never told you about my powers; I… I knew already that sooner or later I would have to make a dash for it, running away with the statuette, and making you guys fall asleep was the perfect getaway. I waited for the right time; thank all the Gods, you, Nami, decided we would stop on an island not far from Koa; so I decided I would stay back, and leave as soon as I could to bring the statuette to the bandits. Of course, I thought I’d be alone, but… well… as I had planned, I used my powers to make sure no one saw or could stop me…”

You feel Usopp tense next to you, his eyes carefully avoiding yours, and you can’t blame him for it: you have all but announced you have kissed him to make him fall asleep and get him out of the way - which you technically did, but the truth is much more complicated, and you wish you could tell him, tell him you have never felt as happy as when you are with him, and that the moment he confessed his feelings was a dream come true - no matter that you knew already you didn’t deserve his affection, even though you felt the same for him. You made him sleep because you knew he would try and stop you from going to Koa, and you couldn’t let that happen; you made him sleep because if you had to tell him you were leaving, just when the opportunity of pursuing a relationship opened in front of you, your heart would break, and if he asked you to stay, you’re not sure you’d have had the strength to refuse, no matter how scared you were for your mother…

I do care for you; more than you could ever know. If my mom’s life were not on the line nothing would have made me happier than being with you, but I couldn’t leave her in the hands of the bandits! I know I have ruined everything between us, but please, don’t hate me…

“Well, that’s it.” you conclude with a sigh, your eyes meeting those of each of your crewmates in turn; every time, you’re the first to lower your gaze “Now you know everything. I know the fact that I have kept this secret from all of you for all this time has no excuse; please believe when I say I’ve only done this because my mother’s life was at stake, and I’ve never wanted to hurt any of you. If you can just accompany us to some place with a ferry harbour, I’ll leave the crew and not bother you again. You are extraordinary people, all of you, and I’m proud I’ve been part of this crew, even if just for a while. I just… I wish I could tell you how sorry I am…”

A sob escapes your lips. You don’t know where you could go hide and cry, since your mother is sleeping in your cabin, but any place would be better than this, and so you stand, your eyes still trained on your lap. “If I can be excused…”

“Sit down.”

You obey. For a whole minute no one speaks, and in the end, a moment before you finally burst into tears in front of everyone, you see Luffy’s hand reach for yours on the table.

“Captain…”

“Why didn’t you tell us, (name)?” he asks, his warm eyes full of worry and hurt “You were one of us, part of the crew. You should have told us.”

“The bandits said I had to go alone, or they would kill my mum.”

“Alright, but the bandits couldn’t know what you did or said while you were on the ship, could they? If you had told us we would have found a way, we would have helped you.”

“I…I…” you stammer, suddenly overwhelmed; they are all staring at you, but not with the contempt and distrust you are sure you deserve, but with something that makes it even more difficult for you to keep it together: sympathy, understanding, and acceptance “I thought you would get angry, that you would never trust me again… after all, even though I got so fond of all of you and never wished you ill, I had joined the crew for my own reasons, and I had lied to all of you…”

“But your mom was in danger! You really thought we wouldn’t help you? No one would ever be so cruel!”

“I don’t think you’re cruel!” you rush to exclaim, not wanting to insult “I only feared… well, you’re such a tight-knit group, and honesty and trust are clearly very important values for all of you…”

“Listen, (name), I was in your shoes not long ago.” Nami intervenes “My village was in danger, and… well, long story short, I made the mistake of wanting to take care of it on my own, instead of telling the others. And just like in your case, if it hadn’t been for them I would have lost everything I cared for.”

You sadly nod, well aware that, even though it was your powers that rendered the bandits harmless, they would have surely killed you and your mother, hadn’t the others intervened.

Shame fills you, as well as the awareness that you did ruin everything - not by putting the safety of your mother above any other consideration, but by not entrusting your friends with your secret. This is how you have wronged them, the perhaps unforgivable mistake you have made: you have spent three months with them, sharing moments of both joy and danger, with ample time to appreciate how generous and devoted to each other Luffy and the others are; you should have trusted them, because they had given you every reason to. Instead, you have let fear, or perhaps pride?, guide your actions, and now your mom is free, but you have lost your friends… and the boy who taught your heart feelings you only thought existed in love songs.

“I’m so sorry.” you mutter miserably “I’ve been so stupid… you are all so kind, I should have known you would have helped me… please forgive me, I know I don’t deserve it, but…”

“We’re not angry, (name).” Zoro explains, his tone direct but not unkind.

“You’re… not?”

“Of course not. We’re sorry… sorry you had to keep this secret for three months; your mom was in danger… Gods, that must have been a nightmare.” this time is Sanji speaking, gentle and understanding “We only want you to know that… any problem one of us has, we take care of it together; that’s what it means to be part of a crew.”

You nod silently, too overwhelmed with both gratitude and shame to talk; in the end you manage to swallow and “So… you’re not gonna kick me out?” you stammer “I promise I’ll never do it again, I’ll never keep secrets and act on my own, I swear…”

Luffy smiles. “You want to leave?” he asks, to which you emphatically shake your head.

“Gods, no! There is nothing I wish more than staying!”

“Then it’s settled. Now, is it dinner time already? Sanji, can you make that mushroom pasta you prepared last week? (name), you remember we ate it together?”

You start to cry. Now, when you’d have every reason to feel happy and relieved, but that’s exactly why you finally you can’t choke back tears anymore; gratitude, joy, and relief, because Sanji is right, no matter how much comfort and happiness you found in the company of your crewmates, you have spent three months fearing for your mother’s safety, the thought she could be hurt and abused and even killed -since you’d have no way to know before you came to Koa with the statuette- never leaving your mind day and night. It has been a nightmare, no matter how ardently you promised yourself you would be strong for her, but now it’s over - she is safe, shaken but still in one piece, and your friends have demonstrated to be kinder and more understanding that you deserve, and still consider you one of them. All the anguish, all the guilt, that have become your constant companions in the last three months, now you can let them go, and you do, in the form of a liberating, almost violent cry, ugly sobs shaking your body and tears flowing until your whole face is inundated. 

“I-I’m so sorry.” you blabber for the umpteenth time, trying in vain to control the outpouring by drying the tears on your sleeves, already soaked through “Gods, it’s so embarrassing…”

“(name).” Luffy gently says, standing and walking around the table to reach you, kindness and acceptance filling his words, and his smile, and the easiness with which he embraces you “You don’t get it? With us, there is no need to say you’re sorry.”

And so you are forgiven, your friends gathered around you, quietly offering acceptance and consolation, and you still cry as you thank them and promise you’ll never keep any secret from then again, and you have never felt so happy in your life, even though Usopp has kept silent as the others reassured you they were not angry, and has silently left the room without touching or talking to you. 

*

You smile as you observe your mother help Sanji clean up in the kitchen after breakfast, happily discussing her favourite recipes with the crew’s cook; she has slept deeply during the night, which is much more than you hoped for given everything she’s been through, and woke up in dire need of a coffee, as usual, but untroubled and in a good mood, ready to leave the last three months behind her.

You can only hope you’ll be able to do the same as, after exchanging a smile as Sanji passes her yet another dish to dry, you walk away, carrying your backpack to the warehouse… which is not empty as you thought.

“Oh… hey.” Usopp murmurs, seeing you step in the room; he is fumbling with a long, sturdy rope you usually use to secure the ship to a berth when you dock, desperately attempting to roll it up to make it occupy as little space as possible “Hi.”

“Hi.” you whisper back; it’s perhaps the first words you exchange after he urged you to use your powers to make the bandits fall asleep. The fact that you’re meeting again in this room of all places makes you nervous… “I was, uhm, looking for a hammer.”

“There should be one over there.”

“Thanks.”

Over there is a large crate full of nails, irons and other shipwright’s tools; rummaging for a while, you retrieve what you were looking for: a heavy steel-headed hammer, that you carry to the centre of the room before retrieving something from your backpack. Usopp, who by now has half of the rope coiled around him like a snake and is desperately trying to free himself, notices it.

“That’s… that’s the elephant statuette.” he murmurs, intrigued despite himself.

“It is.” you admit, holding it in your hands; beyond that unexplainable warmth enveloping your hands it still looks completely innocuous, a far cry from the powerful talisman it is purported to be “I hadn’t realised, but I put it back in here after I showed it to the bandits yesterday, and there it remained since. I spoke to Luffy, and we agreed it’s better if I destroy it.”

Usopp scratches his head, reflecting on the matter. “Are you sure? It might come in handy, if it’s as powerful as they say.”

You point out that since none of you is a trained witch or warlock, you doubt you would be able to harness and control that power; you don’t even want to know what the bandits would have used it for, given their complete lack of morality, and so you have decided it’s better to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.

“Alright then; you want me to do it?” 

You shake your head; you don’t exactly hate the little elephant-shaped trinket, like you wouldn’t hate the gun or the dagger used to hurt you, but destroying it is your duty and no one else’s. 

You place the statuette on the floor and ask Usopp to stand back; then, swinging the hammer with all your strength, you slam the steel head against it, once, twice, thrice, until the talisman lies smashed in pieces so small you wouldn’t be able to discern its original shape. You delicately pick them up and carry them out to toss them overboard; every sailor, pirates included, know the sea is not a garbage can and normally you would never use it to simply dispose of something you have no use for, but in the remote case the pieces of the statuette have maintained its power, the abyss is probably the safest place for them.

“Well, that’s sorted.” you consider with satisfaction, and Usopp, who has silently followed you out of the warehouse, nods. 

The clear, sunny morning opens in front of you, a gentle breeze brushing against your faces. Usopp rests his elbow on the side of the ship next to you; he’s wearing a brown jumpsuit, his shoulders and arms left bare - a sight you find yourself appreciating more than you probably should. “I’m happy your mom is alright.”

“Thank you; I… there is nothing I wouldn’t have done to save her, you know?”

“Of course, I would have done the same.”

“Usopp…” He turns at you, vaguely hopeful but still wary, and suddenly your heart is accelerating, because you don’t know if there is still hope for the two of you, because the fact that Usopp accepts that you had a valid reason for what you have done doesn’t mean he’ll believe your confession was sincere, but if there were… if you were able to convince him that breaking his heart was the last thing you ever wanted, and he’s the most amazing -and handsome- person you have ever met, you could swear in front of all the Gods you will prove yourself worthy of it, and never make him doubt how much you care for him “I… I am so sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologise.” 

“I do have to; I know I hurt you, and I’ll understand if you can’t see me as anything but a friend anymore, but for what it’s worth… I never lied to you; never, and especially not at that moment. Every single word I said was true; and hearing how you felt made me happier than I had ever been.”

Silence falls between the two of you; you wait for Usopp’s reaction, your heart pounding, and finally his hand touches yours on the rail, and a moment later your fingers have intertwined.

Both of you are blushing furiously; neither cares. 

“In the town we’re going to leave your mum at there is a big amusement park; I’ve seen the pictures in the paper, it looks very nice.” Usopp murmurs after a while “Maybe we could… you know, go there together? You and me.”

“I’d like that.” you answer, and you smile “I’d really, really like that.” 

Usopp’s smile is full of relief as he rests his arm on your shoulders, holding you close, and when he finally, finally kisses you, fireworks explode in your chest. 

“Maybe at the amusement park we can also stop for tea, even though it won’t be as good as the one you made me yesterday.” you suggest after a while.

“Ah, well, you see, Captain Usopp has trained with the best tea-brewers in the world…”

The way I had absolutely not thought about Mantis when deciding reader's powers and still I have completely copied her...

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Usopp #Usopp x reader #Jacob Romero Gibson #Bellona's stuff

[ervona]

Day 7: Profane / Sword for @tes-summer-fest

Out on the Inner Sea, where Ebonheart had crossed to Vvardenfell with one one bold leap set in stone, the port was rocked to sleep by languid waves. Southwards lay the vast expanse of Thirr, eastwards the City of Swords over which loomed a frozen moon, and thence a ferry sailed in worn and weathered. One of the passengers, a young lady, bowed to the boatman as she disembarked. 

Rather undistinguished in her clean but simple clothes, she was glad for it and took a deep breath of sea air that mixed with the cooking from Six Fishes, watching as stevedores hauled barrels and crates onto a merchant ship. For a few more paces across the cobblestone, she needn’t have been a duke’s daughter up until the bridge to the castle, so she took a slight turn at Forth Hawkmoth.

In the Skyrim Mission hall, she asked of a friendly ambassador all the latest rumors brought in on western winds, while in the neighboring Argonian Mission she exchanged a courteous greeting and hidden scrap of paper with the consul. The significance of each meeting was not as it must have seemed, and she continued to Castle Ebonheart whither the Imperial knight at the bridge led her in without issue.

The guards inside were all aglint in silver, but the mer that strode up to her was in beetle-green silk, embellished with countless shimmering wings. Uncle appeared to her more boyish than ever, though he’d never been older, as his face and hands showed no signs of age that more closely followed the working mer. She leapt into a hug, for the illusion of their friendship was always worth upholding.

“You look like a pilgrim,” he said with a smile; she trimmed the condescension off of it like the hands of Fishmongers’ Hall fileted fish and moved on, carving a smile on her own face. “I see them crossing the lakes daily now, all sorts of pleasant people, long traveled–”

“Good evening to you too. But where’s Father?” Often enough he would have been holding court at this hour, now his seat was an empty ornament flanked by his personal guard.

“Up in his dining hall. Shall we go, then?” So she took him by the hand and followed up the spiraling staircase, soon liberated from his idle chatter by the fact that the chamber with her drawers stood afore Father’s. She excused herself to go change her clothes before sitting at the dinner table, and he proceeded rather than wait for her, which was suitable just fine.

It was apt to call it a guest room, but it had more or less been reserved for her, and all the things she hadn’t taken with her were where she’d left them. She wasted no time dressing, though she did not miss the more restrictive, overly ornate clothing she’d worn at court. Her neighbors in Saint Delyn on the other hand would work themselves to the bone for a brocade blouse like hers. 

Once when in Tear visiting Mother’s kin, she’d taken a liking to the airy anther fabrics they favored in the humid marshlands. Grey was their color, but the city had soon been wreathed in black after a high councilor’s undisclosed passing, strife had been sown and blood ran cold. These days the young, the dissidents, and all those who’d lost their spirits and loved ones in the war had many high seats to fill. 

Her time there had taught her not the evils of slavery, for she’d already looked upon them in Empire-chartered lands, but certainly more ways to strive against it. Even with her Serano cousins had she found kindred spirits, and through them much needed contacts, Black Marsh and beyond. The Dren side of the family was truly no better or worse, distinguished Hlaalu nobles as they were, but she would put that thought aside for dinner. 

Father awaited her in his golden moth robes, and she sank into a silent embrace with only the murmur of endearments into her hair and the clatter of cutlery. There was no need to say too much. He already had the perfect image of her in his mind, carefully cultivated, unable to grow beyond it even when they were alone, for too much shared grief weighed on them. The table was set for three, each with ample space of their own and the appetizer already served. 

She nibbled on a wickwheat biscuit as Uncle seemed to continue what he’d been talking about, his newly established netch ranch, the fine leather it brought, and she bit her tongue in frustration. Him and his blood-stained netch leather and the yoke that pulled lives and souls asunder. The three of them were in different worlds by now, though still only a ferry away from each other in the isles where the sacred and worldly embraced with hidden blades. 

Then he turned to her, wondering aloud why she’d chosen to live in a pauper’s residence. Without breaking her composure, she took a sip of her mineral water. She’d explained it enough to Father, and had lived well for a better part of the year, so where had he been?

“I’d seen it and thought to myself of what wisdom I could take from living in modesty. Our kin in Tearmarsh live simple but the light of the Three hardly touches them, unlike us,” she recited something akin to what she had before and before. Uncle whose kena had been a blademaster of Saint Felms giggled at that, and Father cut him a glance across the table.

“What? We’re not in Vivec, but in Ebonheart,” he stressed that last word with a Cyrod lilt, “I’d hazard to say the Three are asleep at the helm when the people are wanting for them.”

“The Three do not judge mere ill-spoken words, but the people do. Let us eat,” was all that Father had to say before calling the next course, ornada marinated in plum and comberry.

She continued to sup in silence, but imagined if they’d cleared the table and dueled in a knightly manner. A challenge of honor, for the gods at that, had been more common in warlike times but the custom was very much alive. Say they fought to the death, Uncle if he by chance won would get his final rival out of the way and send her to wed the King’s heir Ser Talen Vandas. Father had planned much the same, though not urgently, and he would hesitate to kill his brother in the first place but if he did, she would carry the Dren name.

What did she want, then? For the dinner to carry on in peace, not to lose her composure, and not have to marry the King's dear nephew. But perhaps a queen of Morrowind would carry power, more so than a duke, only the profane ruler of all Vvardenfell. There was a cloak of decorum about Father that fit a very refined doll, having his armor shined as if every day was a holy-day, little else for him to do but dictate legally worded letters for contractless builders on Azura’s Coast and hang his head. She could never become so complacent.

Father ate rather delicately to not stain his bead-woven beard and mustache, and his younger brother followed the lead, though prior stabbing his cooked ornada without grace. The knife he sliced with, dueling the carapace, was as her cutlery gilt and engraved to go along with the ebony plating. Overhead the chandelier of green glass hung as a sword pointed at them, a thousand shimmering blades. Cruel and acute was the castle, had been from its very first stone.

After dessert, she retreated to her chambers still chewing on the apple sweetcake. Father and Uncle having bid her good night continued talking, for which she was too tired, tired of her studies at the Temple and the fragile cover they made, of parlaying with smugglers or worse playing as abolitionists, of crossing betwixt and across sharp edges, and most of all knowing that she was ill-fit for their beautiful world even if she’d ever wanted to return.

She fell upon her bed face-first and rose back up, hair tousled from the impact giving her the feeling of peeking from a thicket. Through her eastward window she could see the lanterns of the city below, Ebonheart’s diadem. Further still across the water was the palace dome awash in cold fire, circled by celestial spheres that seemed like marbles from this distance. In there did Vivec dwell, as far from the cries of the helpless as one could be in the Ascadian Isles.

Once the gods had walked among them, before her time. Perhaps it rang true that they were asleep at the helm, or had spun the wheel and left it to turn uncontrollably as gods were wont to do. It fell to the people to take hold of, but only in hands that meant well could a better tomorrow be spun from the frayed yarn of the past. 

Her bed here was softer than in Saint Delyn, only the finest, most delicate fabrics for the Duke’s household, but it didn’t let her rest easy. In the morning, or the next, depending on how much Father wanted her to stay, she would disembark once more. She would watch the waves play, sway corkbulb boats like merlings on the seaside who had been told the world was their oyster. 

There was much work to be done, but it could wait the morning, or the next, as it had waited for far too long. And she cast a wish, just a small one, to each of the three moons that adorned the sky and sea.

#tesfest23 #tes #the elder scrolls #morrowind #ilmeni dren #vedam dren #orvas dren #also honoring the dinner prompt in this. like half of my entries #we're done when i say we're done... #scrawling tag

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, the Ladies say their farewells. But--

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,764. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 44: Not Over Yet

The Ladies rose before the sun.

Despite their late night, they were duty-bound to wake early. Lady Samient was to leave before dawn came. They all had to be there to see her off.

They gathered in the courtyard, the first rays of light creeping over the mountains. It would be that light which would guide her retinue—no more than a dozen troops, for small was discreet—to the Free Marches.

“Do you think Vichy will be glad to see me, looking like this?” Samient asked, of the Inquisition armour she wore—identical to that of the soldiers who lingered nearby.

“I think it shan’t matter what you wear,” said Trevelyan, “he will simply be happy to see you.”

“And at least you shall be matching,” Lady Erridge teased.

Samient laughed, the joke causing her to settle somewhat. “That is true.”

Trevelyan had never seen her Ladyship quite so nervous as this. It was a shame she would miss the reunion. She so wished to know what Samient was like in the presence of her lover. What a happy, silly mess she might be!

“Do not worry about your father,” the Baroness reassured her. “Lady Montilyet and I shall deal with all that. You focus upon the journey home.”

“Thank you,” said Samient.

She glanced back to the retinue, all in rows, receiving orders from their Captain. The time was nigh. Lady Samient brought her hair up, and tied it into a bun atop her head. Her ears entirely exposed, she ran a finger over the very tips—pointed and proud.

“Shame they’ll have to go straight back under a helm,” she muttered.

Trevelyan smiled. “Though not for much longer.”

“And never again after that.”

Her ritual of readiness must not have gone unnoticed, for her Dalish liaison—a young Elven man called Loranil—took the opportunity to run up, and report in:

“Your Ladyship, we’re ready to march.”

She thanked him, and away he went. Now was the time to follow. Reluctant, she took a step back.

“Well… I suppose I should make my way, then,” she mumbled. “I, um, well—”

“Oh, come here!” Lady Erridge cried, rushing forward. She threw her arms around Samient—soon followed by both Trevelyan and the Baroness. Tangled together, warmth shared. One last time.

“We love you, you know,” said Lady Erridge.

“I know,” Samient replied, sniffling back tears. “I love you too.”

“Have a safe journey,” Trevelyan wished her.

“And write as soon as you can,” the Baroness added. “Tell us everything of your Clan.”

Samient nodded. “I will. I will.”

Each woman held on tight, unflinching in her devotion. It was the sort of embrace that could anchor a ship in a storm. The sort of embrace that could melt the deepest winter. The sort of embrace that could outshine the very sun, and sear even a dragon’s tongue.

Yet, like all good things, it would have to come to an end. One last squeeze, and they parted. Taking a deep breath, Lady Samient took another step back.

“Farewell. All of you. And be happy. Please.”

Though holding tight onto one another, the Ladies began to wave. And they would not stop until Lady Samient was truly gone.

No, Giles. She wished to be remembered as Giles.

Giles found her place within the regiment. A few words were said between her and the soldiers, which seemed to make her smile. She placed her helm upon her head—at least it concealed the tears—and, with one final look back, marched out of Skyhold.

May Ghila’nain guide her home.

***

No sooner than the remaining Ladies had recovered from this, than it was Lady Erridge’s turn.

Her carriage had arrived. They all had gathered. Her things were packed. Orroat’s horse was hitched. It was time.

Naturally, Lady Erridge was inconsolable. Whimpering, tear-stained, and red, she threw herself into Orroat’s arms, and begged: “Can’t we stay just one week more?”

But Lady Orroat shook her head. “I would agree to your every request, my love, but I am afraid if I say yes, you shall never leave.” She tapped Erridge lovingly upon the nose. “And I do not know how the Bann will continue to survive without you. Your poor mother had to sew a dozen more handkerchiefs for him, last time I visited.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Don’t worry”—Orroat dabbed her eyes, ineffective as it was—“we managed to see each other as children, so this will be done as well—and we’ll pass through here plenty, I imagine.” She turned to Trevelyan and Touledy. “You are always welcome in Coldon, of course.”

“I would be glad to visit,” said the Baroness.

“As would I,” Trevelyan agreed.

Lady Erridge whirled, and took hold of their hands. “Oh, please do! I do not wish this to be our last meeting!”

Trevelyan feigned shock. “Why, are we uninvited from your wedding!?”

“Oh, no, no! Of course you are invited. What a wonderful day that shall be. No—a week! It shall be an entire week of festivities! I promise you.” She looked to Orroat. “Don’t you think?”

“If you so wish, my love.”

“Thank you, my love.”

Their saccharine nature was the only thing, at that moment, keeping Trevelyan from crying. Although, she had to admit, a tear did well upon her eye.

“I’m afraid the carriage is ready, Tam,” said Orroat, solemnly. “We’ll need to clear the mountain range before sundown, so we’ll have to be gone soon.”

“Oh, dear!” cried Erridge.

She looked to the Ladies, frozen in place. Hesitation held her back, the knowledge that the next moments with them would be her last—at least for now.

Yet those moments were not to be squandered. Lady Erridge surged forward, swaddling both Trevelyan and Touledy within her embrace. The loveliest, warmest, kindest hug yet.

Trevelyan savoured the feeling.

“You know,” murmured Erridge, “were it not for you, I would have never known myself in love with dear Hul. It was only in befriending you that I realised my feelings for her were different.” She snuggled in closer. “Though just as precious.”

“We love you,” whispered Trevelyan.

“We do,” agreed Touledy.

“I love you both,” said Erridge.

It was this sentiment that seemed to provide her the strength to step away, for nothing could be so enduring. But even as her fingers slipped from Trevelyan’s arm, she whispered to her:

“I’ll miss you terribly, Wicky.”

Trevelyan smiled. “And I you.”

But missing her would have to do—the carriage was loaded, the drivers seated. Lady Orroat opened the door.

“Are you ready, my love?”

“I think so,” Erridge replied.

She offered her hand. Lady Orroat took it, and kissed it, and guided Lady Erridge into the carriage—but did not follow. Not yet. Instead, she looked to the Ladies.

“Thank you for caring for my dear Tam so well,” she told them. “I cannot express how much it means, to know she is loved. I hope to make her even half as happy as you have.”

Trevelyan nodded. “Good. For if you break her heart, we shall kill you.”

“Painfully,” the Baroness added.

Lady Orroat smiled. “I would expect no more and deserve no less.”

She clambered into the carriage, setting beside her dear Lady. Trevelyan watched, quite satisfied that their message had been heard, and that Lady Erridge was in good hands.

And those good hands kept her stable, as Erridge fumbled over Orroat’s lap, to poke her head out of the window.

“Farewell!” she called. “We shall meet again! I love you!”

The signal was given, the reins taken up. The carriage began to trundle away.

“We shall meet again!” repeated Erridge, as it slipped into the gatehouse. Her voice echoed off the stone. “Farewell!”

“Farewell!” the Ladies cried. “Safe journey! Farewell!”

And then it was off, the carriage rumbling over the old stone bridge. Trevelyan imagined that, within it, at that very moment, Lady Orroat had taken Lady Erridge’s hand, and held it tight. It was not so hard to believe.

Good. The sooner they were married, the sooner they would all see each other again.

For now, though, sadness remained a most stalwart companion.

Trevelyan pulled her napkin from a pocket—the poor little cloth only just having dried from its use earlier in the morning—and dabbed at her eyes. It was a wonder she had any tears left. The Baroness, similarly, dried her own. She looked to Lady Trevelyan, and, wordlessly, linked their arms together. Just two Ladies left.

“Come,” she said, “my carriage will not be ready for another hour. Let us pass the time. May I see your new quarters, before I go?”

A good distraction. Trevelyan nodded.

Together, they wandered, back towards the keep. Up, into the Great Hall. Calmer now, than yesterday. The normal sort of hubbub and ambience.

They turned not towards the rotunda door and its guest corridor above, but towards the door to Montilyet’s parlour. Tucked within, they knew well enough, was the little landing that preceded her lounge. And off this landing, were two sets of stairs.

They took the ascending route, to an entirely new corridor. Stretching out above the parlour, snaking into the Inquisitor’s tower, this corridor housed the rooms of some of the Inquisition’s innermost circle.

“I couldn’t quite believe it, when she told me where it was,” Trevelyan admitted.

“It is a privilege to be amongst them,” mused Touledy.

They turned into the tower, ascended a little way up… and soon enough, came across a door.

“This is it,” Trevelyan said, turning the key. “Though I warn you—it’s not mightily impressive.”

She opened up, and wandered in. The Baroness followed, and put on a good show of admiration—but Trevelyan knew it was merely politeness.

This room she’d been given was a touch smaller than that of her guest room. Understandable—guests were to be impressed with comfort; residents simply needed somewhere to sleep. The furnishings were more basic, too—but better than the ones she’d had in the Circle, by far.

The bed, though not four-poster, was of a sufficient size. “Though you’ll not test this one,” she teased the Baroness.

“I believe that is someone else’s duty.”

Trevelyan laughed. “And here is my desk!” she quickly continued, proudly showing the little bureau. “I’m truly glad to have this. I’ll be able to work here, should the Undercroft be too busy. Oh, and look!”

She pointed to the window just above it, that allowed the morning’s light into the room. The Baroness peered out, and gasped at what she saw.

“Oh! Are these not the same mountains we saw from your stargazing spot?”

Trevelyan nodded. “Yes! I can sit here, on a night, and look out—without having to get so cold!”

Touledy grinned. “But how then will you secretly rendezvous with the Commander, hm?”

“I believe you’ve already suggested a method!”

They laughed, and Touledy regarded the room once more. There was little else of note—a trunk and drawers, for storage, and a pair of chairs—but she nodded approvingly nevertheless.

“It may not be much, but I think it is lovely.”

Trevelyan smiled. “I know. So do I. And—”

There was a rapid knock at the door. Trevelyan perked. The Baroness’ carriage could not have been ready so soon? She rushed over, and opened up. A scout stood on the other side.

“Morning, your Ladyship. This just arrived for you—urgent.”

They handed over a small piece of vellum. She could tell by the writing it was a bird-message, transcribed.

“Thank you,” she said, letting them hurry on their way. She shut the door, and wandered back toward Touledy.

“Who is it from?” her Ladyship asked.

Trevelyan steeled herself. “I think I know.”

Though her soul screamed not to, her eyes began to scan the words:

Daughter,

If there is no engagment, there is no reason for you to stay. We shall be travelling to Val Royeaux. Meet us there, or we shall have you fetched.

Bann Trevelyan

Trevelyan’s lungs stopped. The paper fell from her hand, spinning to the ground. They couldn’t—she gasped—they couldn’t just come for her? They couldn’t take her away. No, no—

Touledy, leaning hard on her cane, managed to collect the message from the floor, and read it for herself. Her eyes widened.

“Stay calm, Lady Trevelyan. Everything will be all right.”

Trevelyan shook her head. “But they—but they… I didn’t think they would come get me! I thought they would just leave me be. Why won’t they leave me be?”

Shaking, she found the arm of a chair. The Baroness guided her into it.

“Shh, stay calm. It is all right. You are of the Inquisition now. You have protection. They cannot simply pluck you from Skyhold. We should tell Lady Montilyet of this. She still owes you a debt.”

The Baroness rose, and hurried to the door, sticking her head out. Grunting, she rushed back.

“The scout is gone,” she explained, “so I shall find Montilyet myself. You remain here. Stay calm, all right? Breathe. All right? Breathe.”

Trevelyan did as instructed, taking breaths in, and pushing them forcefully back out.

“Good,” cooed Touledy, stroking her arm, “very good. I will be a moment. Just a moment. We will have this sorted, I promise you.”

Trevelyan nodded. Seeing that permission, Touledy gathered herself, and left the room. Her cane tapped away with a heightened rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

But when it vanished, Trevelyan was left with only the sound of her own breathing. She clasped her hands together, till her knuckles turned white, and held them against her chest. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

A knock at the door. Touledy was faster than promised.

“Come in!” she cried.

“Arcanist?” came the reply.

Trevelyan turned. The Commander stood in her door. She lost her breath again.

“Are you all right?” he said, abandoning what he carried upon her dresser, and pulling a chair up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to say it without crying. “My parents…”

No use. She passed him the message, instead. He read it. His face fell. His head shook.

“No,” he breathed. “They cannot take you from Skyhold.”

“They’ll try.”

“Then what if…�� He tried to catch her eye. “What if you told them we were engaged? Would that settle them?”

“No!” Trevelyan stood, tears falling anew. “I don’t want to do what they want! I want to do what I want! I wanted to be done with them! I just…” She bowed her head, and wept. “I wanted to be free.”

She felt her body buckle—but no sooner than it had, than it was held upright. The Commander enveloped her in his arms, held her tight against his chest. She clung to him in turn, buried her head within the fur of his mantle. It was all him, keeping her together.

“No one can take you from Skyhold without your consent,” he murmured. “I promised to you. You are safe within these walls. They could send an army. They will not take you from—here.”

Trevelyan nodded. Her breathing slowed. She believed him. She believed him.

Footsteps—hurried, heeled footsteps—neared.

“Lady Trevelyan!” came Montilyet’s voice, as she rounded into the room. “The Baroness has just told me! Are you well?”

Trevelyan shook her head. The Commander, slowly, gently released her into Lady Montilyet’s arms.

“It’s all right, Lady Trevelyan,” she told her. “I will go to Val Royeaux myself if I have to! You are an Arcanist of the Inquisition, and you belong here.”

Trevelyan sighed. “I want to stay.”

“I know. You will.”

Further footsteps. Trevelyan glanced toward the door, and saw the Baroness had arrived as well. But—the Commander was gone.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“He slipped away,” the Baroness revealed. She wandered over to the dresser, and admired the bouquet of flowers that had appeared upon it. “But it seems he left you a gift... I shall find someone who can fetch a vase of water.”

The Baroness withdrew. Lady Montilyet sat Trevelyan down, and brought the flowers to her. Trevelyan accepted the arrangement, gladly. Such a beautiful little bouquet. Poppies, and spinwort, crystal grace and daisies. Put together by one with no knowledge of flowers. Ever more beautiful for it.

“Trust me,” said Lady Montilyet, sitting beside her. “I can deal with the Bann and Lady Trevelyan. Easily.”

But Trevelyan shook her head. “No,” she said. “I want to deal with them. Myself.”

#cullen rutherford #commander cullen #cullen x trevelyan #unwanted #unwanted fic #so here's a chapter i genuinely cried while writing #though it may not be over yet and we still have six chapters to go #this is the last we'll see of erridge and samient #which is a shame because they would've loved to face the final boss #so many red herrings for the villain in this story #when they were introduced in the first few lines of the prologue #anyway hi jess i know you read all of these. did you miss last chapter? ignore if you didnt!! just making sure

[ghostthostt]

Hiiii hello hi please tell me everything about Foxtrot and also that I love him (and telling you how his design is amazing!!!) What role on teams does he usually fill? Favorite foods? If he could keep one enemy as a pet no consequence what would it be?

hi !! thank you so much <33

ill put it under the cut bc its gonna be a lot i think

Foxtrot, aka FOXTROT-152, was a combat medic before joining the company. he specializes in medical treatment, and knows how to treat wounds, small or great, on the fly .. thats how hes survived this long out on Titan

hes extremely cautious, but kind, prioritizing the crew over himself at all times. he will give his rations, his supplies, his care, everything to the crew before taking care of himself. he is extremely selfless... its both a positive trait and a flaw of his

his reason for being brought to the company was punishment. he made a mistake that costed the lives of many people, and because of it, he was sent to the company as punishment. he was given amnestics and forced to forget everything about himself and his past except for his issued ID, FOXTROT-152. he was told what his job was, what he was expected to do, and well. he had no choice but to do it. so he did

eventually, though, he started to catch on to what the company was and what they were doing. he grew paranoid, scared of what they would do if they found out he knew... he spent every day anxious and tense, afraid of every radio transmission, every message, every ship that passed them .. scared of everything. that it was the company finally coming for him.

and one day, they finally did. they came for him ... separated him from his crew, administered more amnestics, and forced him to do a solo mission. it was meant to kill him. and it almost did

the landing alone almost killed him ... his ship was sabotaged and the landing was... messy, to say the least. he survived, though with a heavily broken arm. his forearm was shattered and his wrist was fractured, rendering the arm useless... all he could do was set it and hope for the best. he didnt realize what had happened at first, he thought it was a mistake on his part, and he kept sending out distress signals.. hoping for a rescue

but help never came, and he was left stranded on Titan for a loooong time. he soon realized what had happened to him and he just wandered... he was hoping to die without having to actually kill himself. he was too afraid to .

along the way, he picked up a sort of parasitic fungus that slowly began infecting him .. i forgot to include it in the drawing (ill edit the post in a bit) but basically it kept him alive but it used his body for its own survival in the process too. he tried very hard to get rid of it but just. couldnt. so he was left to wander the endless snow of Titan while this fungus slowly ate at him .. and hes been wandering ever since.

hes not quite alive anymore ... hes more dead than alive, sort of like a zombie, but hes still Kiiiindda in there.. somewhere. yeah :^)

as for your questions...

the role he filled was definitely a medic. he had everything you could need and took care of the crew very well.. he was very skilled in running in and dragging people away from danger, too. hes stronger than he looks for his size

his favorite foods... i think hed like something sweet, like strawberry and nutella sandwiches. something indulgent but sweet and simple :^)

and he would LOVE the spore lizards and snare fleas. hed think they were very very cute. he would definitely try to pet a lizard (and get bit in the process)

if you have any more questions feel free to ask again <333

#ghosttpostt #asks #oc:FOXTROT-152 #lethal company