#I had no clue what I was doing I was just kinda winging it

[whump-it-like-its-hot]

hehe tiny little ghost time at 5 am

[bubbleberryuniverse]

- GHOST PERI AU -

(AKA Petrified!Peri because that name is cool as FUCK.)

REFERENCES ALSO AVAILABLE HERE!

REGULAR COLORS / HIS BODY [NOT GHOST]

GHOST COLORS / HIM AS A GHOST

SO. You may be asking, "what happened to him?" And I am here to EXPLAIN! :]

This AU is still a fairly [pun unintended] big WIP, so some details are still all over the place/undecided, and some may change over time; constructive criticism, opinions/thoughts, questions, are all appreciated!

The general idea is, well... divergent from the finale. What if, after the chip is grabbed and Hazel, Wanda, [and maybe Cosmo? I don't recall if he goes with them/ends up somewhere else] go to fix the wand, Peri explodes. And it gets undone when Hazel wishes to fix Fairy World. Buuuttt... not quite!

It wasn't her 1 Millionth Wish that she used up on Fairy World— which is why it Doesn't Quite Fix Him Going Kaboomey. But I imagine that having 1Mil Wishes had a mild influence on What Happened and why exploding DID get fixed... sort of. [I need to brainstorm specifics on this.]

ANYWAY.

Peri looks GENERALLY normal most of the time, except for, well, *gestures at reference.* Outside of THAT [cracked wand, cracked crown [crack hidden by the glow], slightly off color pallete], there's some other stuff that's just a Hint of Wrong.

Like coughing up confetti and/or rainbows [without any other sign of magical backup [which he can't experience anymore because he did technically already die via backup.]] And sometimes the funny silly wacky expressions that happened during buildup [big ol' eyes/pupils, star shaped pupils, funny faces [like when he was talking to Dev.]

Throwing this in here. Sometimes he just stares like the TBH Creature. It's kinda silly kinda funny. I need to make a Petrified!Peri TBH emote because that fits well.

I was ALSO thinking about the idea that sometimes limbs can detach [the ghost fairy in that one ep is what gave me this thought], mostly for expressive purposes/fun silly purposes. It can be seen in this image here! Still DEBATING on this, though.

ANYWAY.

ANYWAY.

Cosmo and Wanda Don't Know He Died [because of not being right there] But something Is Off. Peri probably doesn't at first either until they [themself] put it together through context clues, and then they're like, "ooohh no, mom and dad probably don't know I exploded!" And he gets REALLY nervous about them finding out because that'd be A Lot and he doesn't want to Worry Them [because... he fucking died.]

So. There's a lot of him just trying not to Act Suspicious. Which only makes them both concerned! I have so many silly funny interactions between them that I imagine, actually!

Like...

Peri: *Talking. Suddenly... star pupils!*

Wanda: Um. Sweetie?

Peri: Hey do you see that?

Cosmo: Oooh, see what?

Peri: Over there! *Points.*

Cosmo + Wanda: *Looks over.*

Peri: *Disappears.*

WHICH. YEAH. SO. GHOST FORM. They're completely hidden when they're actually a GHOST, and has no wand/wings when they're a ghost, either [they do have wings normally, I just forgot to include them in the reference.] And I imagine whenever they poof into their ghost form that they leave a tiny bit of confetti behind!

ALSO.

He reassigns himself to Dev on his own [who didn't forget after the finale.] And his magic is kind of fucked up. Cause he's DEAD and look at his fucking WAND. So wishes kinda get fucked up when granted a bit sometimes ehehehaha...

ANYWAY.

I am also dumping my Peri headcanons onto him. They're transmasc nonbinary and use he/they pronouns and they're also aroace! :3

PLEASE. PLEASE send me any asks if you have any questions! You don't have to ask to draw them, either— just tag me in any art if you ever make any, please! :]

[moonsgemini]

good for you - rafe cameron

summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.

warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe

wc: 1.9k

an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.

masterlist

She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.

It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.

Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”

“Hey uh it’s me.”

Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.

When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.

Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.

She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”

Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.

“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.

Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”

He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.

Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.

Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.

He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.

“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”

She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.

“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”

“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”

“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.

When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.

“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.

He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”

“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.

Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.

“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.

Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.

“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.

He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.

“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.

They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.

“What happened Rafe?” She asked.

He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.

“Rafe, people make mistakes.”

“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”

She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.

He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.

Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.

They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.

“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.

She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.

“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.

[n0tamused]

Came across House of Dragons and kinda got invested then I saw you accept Jiyan requests so now I’m kinda thinking what a mixture of the two would be like….Jiyan with his own dragon riding in Westeros…Jiyan courting you despite protests from his court…Jiyan protecting his queen from anyone that tries to hurt her or his heirs…idk I am just a causal watcher I have no clue what’s actually going on in GoT and HoD tbh

A/n: I'm uploading this from my phone because I just can't wait to post this, so if there's formatting or grammar errors - rest assured, I'll do my best to get to it once I get on my laptop. Where do I begin though? 😭 My goodness, you couldn't have sent me a better idea than this one oml. I'm smooching you on the head istg, thank you so much for this request! And I hope you enjoy this jumbled ramble <3 I'd love to do more of this little au and I most definitely will, and for some other characters as well.

Contents: Jiyan x Reader, headcanons, you/yours, written with a F! Reader in mind, dragonrider reader and Jiyan, Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon universe, pregnancy, angst, happy ending, somewhat arranged marriage lol, tell me if there's anything else to tag.

-War had taken many noble houses to an early grave, leaving behind nothing but ghosts and ruin over the vast lands. The ones that remained standing were either the rich or the cruel. All except one.

-Jiyan, originally hailing from Jinzhou, and belonging to no noble or rich lineage. His mother was a notorious healer, and his father had long been lost to travels and war himself.

-He had joined the battles as a young green boy alongside his mother, moving beside the long columns of soldiers in their tattered armor and ringmail. All he could do was stare at them in wonder and question - Why do they spill so much blood? For what?

-There was no looming threat of the Others coming to claim their lives, it was just them - the people and the common folk, yet they fought each other like animals for a few extra inches of land or a few extra coppers in their liege lord's pocket.

-As much as Jiyan didn't wish to engage in the art of war and bloodshed and only wanted to heal and save, it became apparent, all too soon, that the way to survival and peace was through battle. Healing will get him nowhere, and if a good commander was not put at the front, it wouldn't matter how well he healed if two in three soldiers died, even after receiving his aid.

-The war changed him, hardened his heart and fortified his mind, until the healer he once was became only a distant memory. Spear replaced herbs, and instead of the tattered medic tunic he now donned armor and ringmail. A companion also joined his side after he ran into a deep cavern for safety during one particular battle. A large unclaimed dragon, which nearly took his head off now stood at his side like a mountain, guardian him day and night and heralding the doom of his enemies with a thunderous roar and loud snap of it's wings. The dragon was a beautiful pale green, with bronze horns and amber eyes with darker lines of green running over its back. It was a beauty as much as it was a beast. Men quickly took to respect him, and it became evident Jiyan’s person hid many talents besides that for medical aid and spear holding.

-The previous commander perished, another life taken by the savage ways of war, and Jiyan was appointed as the new commander by the soldiers after he rose to the occasion - having led them to success in war, as well as safety when the odds did not favor them.

-It was during his reign as the lead commander that the lands saw the end of the war. Blood was shed, yes, but not for naught.

-Upon his return to the central city, the throne was found vacant, the king slain along with his entire council. The word of it was that they were taken unawares from the seaside, and had no ways of defense, as all the manpower was at the front lines

-Jiyan came into his rule as king at a young age, far too soon, and yet despite all the doubt he had flourished quickly. Proving himself as an able and just ruler, unlike the ones that came before, his foundation as a commander giving him good wind in the back

-The city wasn't in good condition after the war, but in the years following Jiyan had sent many commands that would aid in its rebuilding

-Slowly, but surely, the common folk started to feel the dawn of a new age - summer has finally come.

-The one thing Jiyan has gladly forgotten about was marriage. As a king, it was expected of him to take a bride to be his queen, to have heirs and to start a new lineage that would, hopefully, carry better blood instead of the hot blood that sought destruction. It wasn't something he often thought about as other duties preoccupied him day in and day out. But it was neither something he was against.. Deep in his heart he would admit a thought of his own family did make him feel…alive. But how would that family fare in these conditions? With his status? This was nothing like his small village he grew up in, so the image he once had in his mind was no longer so clear.

-His mother was a person he'd eventually seek advice from regarding such tender subjects, earning himself a laugh occasionally, as his cluelessness was rather amusing. Where other Kings misused their power and gave commands as they saw fit, Jiyan exercised caution, and even sympathy for the bride he didn't even have yet.

-Eventually, a match was arranged, between him and a lady of a higher birth. His mother had met you before he did and vouched for your good character - but Jiyan remained nervous, vowing to keep his judgment and thoughts to himself until he met you himself.

-Your journey to the city was a long one, yet you entered the long and towering palace halls like a breath of fresh air. Keeping your lady wits about yourself and keeping your courtesies with you, you had quickly rubbed off on Jiyan. The wedding was still a matter of question, as Jiyan had insisted on giving you and your family the due time to explore the city and to see whether this was truly something they wanted to go through with. His compassion was answered in kind by many gifts sent from the city they hailed from, consisting of foreign fruits and vegetables to cattle and coins and silks.

-It was endearing. And the courtship between Jiyan and (Y/n) soon began, as the former began to make moves. He preferred to do so in some amounts of privacy, as the many eyes that followed him as King were uncomfortable and he swore he could never get used to them.

-This seemed to please and comfort his bride-to-be as well, and both of them would show their true colors. It was a rare thing for a royal match to be founded in love rather than simple responsibilities to make heirs, but it wasn't unheard of either.

-What they both had in common was that they were dragon riders. (Y/n)’s dragon was a stark comparison to his own with red scales and two pairs of black horns and dark amber eyes, the underside of the dragon’s wings being a shade of yellow that looked like gold under the sunlight. It was a terrifying dragon, arguably even more scary than his own mount.

-When no one was looking, the two would go down to the Dragon Pit and take their dragons to the skies, racing over the cities with one another or going over the seas to breathe the salty air. It was an escape from duty as well. The moment their dragons took to air, all status and responsibilities remained on the ground, and only the sky was the limit to their freedom.

-Jiyan relished in this freedom like a luxurious drink he could never tire of, and your laughter was a sound like no other.

-The dragons took to liking one another as well, and would dance in the air while the pair were seated on their backs, spinning and falling, and right before the ground came too close they'd pull away and take to the skies once more.

-The commonfolk took this as a good omen. The dragons ruled the skies again, and a good King was on the throne, with a good queen soon to join him.

-Jiyan would find himself inviting (Y/n) to his chambers in early mornings to break their fast together or late dinners to share their day with one another. It was as if the two were already married. And even that wasn't too far from coming true.

-The wedding was a big event. Tables and tents were set all the way out and around the keep as well as in the big ballroom inside. Although Jiyan would've preferred to keep the celebrations a modest one, the council insisted that this occasion warranted the eyes of everyone, the joy had to be shared. This once he gave in to their requests.

-Flower petals were thrown on them as they passed by the rows of commonfolk standing at the sides of the rode, him and his Queen riding at the back of an open carriage dragged by four horses, white and elegant with plumes in their manes. Everything was near perfect and out of a fairy tale.

-King and Queen would share their dance in the ballroom once they returned from the High Sept where they got married before the priest, sharing their first kiss - something Jiyan made sure to cover and hide to the best of his abilities by pulling your veil over both of your faces.

-The celebration lasted all the way into the eerie hours of the night. And both Jiyan and you were exhausted, and upon retiring to your shared bed chamber you simply collapsed onto the plush mattress.

-That night, Jiyan fell asleep with his lover in his arms, watching your soft breaths make your chest rise and fall in slow successions, his fingertips tracing the lines of your face and the skin of your back, until he couldn't resist the urge to sleep.

-This wasn't a life Jiyan asked for…but it was one he was glad for.

-Children came later. A lovely little daughter being the first to be born of the love from the King and Queen, bearing the signature feature of you. Jiyan was beyond happy.

-During the birth of his daughter he was in the city, conducting business over a new architecture project when news arrived that his Queen had gone into labor. It is believed he had never dropped a matter as quickly as he did that day, racing back to the keep and searching for his wife.

-Despite the protests of the midwives, he responded only to you, racing to your side and giving you comfort and encouragement if nothing else, welcoming the fruit of your shared love together. It was the first time Jiyan ever cried in front of anyone else. He had delegated some more of his duties to the others in favor of having the time to spend with his newborn and you, helping you recover from the birth.

-It wasn't rare to see Jiyan roaming the dark halls in the middle of the night to visit the kitchens for food for you, bringing back foods and snacks, whatever you wished, even the weird food cravings. Hell, sometimes he'd indulge in them alongside you. Once, during your first pregnancy you requested a big honeycomb, and it just happened Jiyan felt like a sweettooth that evening as well. That ended with you sharing quite a candid moment, lips sticky with honey with a waxy feel between your teeth as you tried not to laugh at one another.

-The second pregnancy was a boy, following two years after the daughter was born, and he came with a little more trouble. The new prince was quite a big baby, and the birth left you even more exhausted. A fever soon settled within you, greatly worrying Jiyan and the entire council. You could barely hold the boy to feed him without shaking, and the fever lasted for days.

-It was the scariest time of Jiyan’s life. Any moment spent away from you plunged a dagger into his heart that twisted itself further in. It pained him. And he nearly got sick himself from worry.

-There were maids around you constantly, when he couldn't assist you it was them that took care of you. His mother was close by as well, bringing you great herbal teas and green tea cakes and broths. The time for you was a blur, filled with uncomfortable heat of your body and sticky feelings of sweat.. does it ever end?

-It was as if the whe world was plunged into depression once you fell ill. Dark clouds corresponded with Jiyan’s bitter and grieving mood, and the dragons themselves were restless. In this time, the others, outside of his kingdom, saw it fit to attack and plunder the neighboring villages and cities.

-You had recovered enough to talk, but your days were still mostly spent by sleeping and eating.

-You could vaguely remember seeing Jiyan entering your chamber, holding your son for a short while before putting him back in his crib. A concerned look pinched his brows together, you could remember, as his gaze went to you.

- “My love?... Are you alright?” He'd ask as he kneeled by the side of your bed, taking your hand in both of his and kissing the knuckles that felt like they were ablaze underneath his lips. He was dressed in all armor, a sword at his hip. Why was he leaving?.. Where?

-It all seemed like a dream, an illusion borne from your illness, but it was real. He had a duty over the kingdom, and over you. Yet it pained him no less to leave the place he was closest to you. He had entrusted your care to his mother and the maids, and he had already bid farewell to your daughter. She had clung to him like a moss clings to a tree, asking him when he'd return.

-You couldn't give a reply, staring somewhere through him.

-Has the reign of peace perished so quickly?

-His dragon waited at the Dragonpits, and the troops were already marching out of the city gates when he took to fly over them, leading them to the front lines once more.

-You recovered in the following days, finding yourself alone - not literally, as there were maids and servants all flocking to you, but Jiyan wasn't there. His Hand sat the throne instead of him. And your children had grown significantly, as if years had passed instead of several days.

-Responsibilities choked you until you began to move, throwing yourself back into work and and duty. Your son was always at your hip or breast, making up for the time lost. And your daughter was always pulling at your skirts unless she was at her lessons.

-It was a restless period, and a terrifying one. The first letter you sent to Jiyan was met with an ecstatic response, him being overjoyed you were healthy again, yet he encouraged you to rest more.

-His other letters brought bitter news of losses and bloodshed and treason, but he reassured they were holding strong. You could only believe him.

-Months passed. Months. And a letter from Jiyan was yet to come in. It worried you. This everlasting silence, it was of more concern than the sorrowful letters.

-During one evening as you sat on one of the tall balconies of the palace, overlooking the city as your son cooed in your arms, you heard a shriek. One coming from your dragon in the Dragonpits. The dragon was as restless as you, her calls weren't foreign to hear, but this time her shriek was returned by a call of another.

-Your husband's dragon flew down from the murky clouds. The green dragon roared, splitting the sound mid air, earning another roar from your own dragon.

-Jiyan has returned.

-You’re unsure how you raced so quickly down to meet him, with a babe in your arms and not properly dressed either. Appearances didn't matter. Your husband's return did. He mattered.

-And once you saw one another, nothing else could hold you back from running into eachother’s arms, the baby carefully tucked between the two of you in a protective embrace as Jiyan kissed both of your heads, pressing his forehead against yours soon after, laughter shaking his shoulders and chest.

-He was sure he could cry right now, and seeing you shed tears of joy almost encouraged him.

-Jiyan knew he'd split the world in half if it meant keeping you whole and with him.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for entertaining a friendship with a child?

okay so this might be a weird one or even a controversial one i honestly have zero clue how other people will receive this, apologies in advance if i ramble!

to begin, i (23ftm) and this kid (15f) first met about a year ago. one of my best friends (23m) is a pretty big model and tiktoker and she was a fan of his, and she was pretty recognized online for making cool edits and stuff of him and coming to meetups etcetera, so he knew of her from there, and over time with always seeing each other at meet ups and her being in his discord server (where i mod) she kind of became pretty well known to us.

an important thing to note is that she's SUPER neurodivergent and she's had a really tough life. she lost her older brother a few years back and she's (i'm not sure of the correct way to put it, her family is originally from the netherlands and their english is kind of in the works so this is how they put it) developmentally behind a few years - her parents describe this as her being "mentally more 13 than 15" but her behaviour to me is even younger than that. she's very very innocent and trusting, very overemotional and sensitive to criticism etc, loves stuffed animals and pink and cartoons and all of that. she's told me she feels like a little kid sometimes and will talk/act like one so maybe there's an element of trauma-rooted age regression there, i'm not super sure - i'm not gonna get into detail but she's talked to me about her life a lot and she's had some pretty fucked up shit happen to her.

from the beginning she pretty much imprinted on me - she's told me before i remind her of the big brother she lost, and ever since then she's called me her "big brother" and "family" etc. at first i was more just playing along with it to make her happy but over time she really has become something like a little sister to me, i feel super protective of her. i want to become a teacher after college (not to mention eventually a parent with my fiancee) so i think at least part of it is that taking a kid 'under my wing' so to speak is giving me experience with it all. i've always been kinda paternal/protective over kids in general but i was the youngest sibling in my family so i never really had anyone to utilise that on before

she does rely super heavily on me emotionally, especially because after i found out she was being bullied pretty badly at school i started dropping by to keep her company during breaks/lunch and making sure shit was okay (which her still-living brother used to do, but he's a famous?? - unsure How famous, i don't know sports at all - footballer/soccer player who's often in another country and can't see her often anymore), and i've been working with her to curb that. i'm actually currently working with her parents to find her a good therapist and support system. she's no longer in the tiktok friend's discord just because it was getting a little all-consuming for her and we encouraged her to take a break, but she's done a TON of work on herself and maturing since then and she does plan to rejoin at some point soon.

however, i find it really really hard to gauge whether being so close with a child is... like normal? or not. i honestly can't tell if it's kind of the internet caution about adults talking to minors kind of warping my brain and making me overly wary of what people will think or if i'm doing something wrong or if it's genuinely like a weird situation, so i guess i'm looking for outside perspectives.

the things that make me question it is that like i said she's very 'mentally young', she's very sheltered, and there definitely seems to be an element of her kind of replacing the older brother figure she lost with me. on top of that, we met through her being a fan of my friend, and though she's now separate from that i worry there could still be an element of power there because i'm close with the guy she calls her idol. her family knows me and seem totally chill with everything, but they've told me she tells people at her school that i'm literally her brother and basically 100% talks about me as if i'm her biological family, which i find super sweet but at the same time wonder if it's healthy.

she obviously needs therapy and hopefully soon we can get her it, but: AITA for entertaining a sort of found family dynamic / friendship at all with someone very vulnerable and young or is this genuinely helpful for her?

What are these acronyms?

[illubean]

Can I get a hisokas sister x killua? Like hisokas sister is affectionate but not in a creepy way she just want to show killua how much she likes him😔(mainly in gifts and unexpected hugs, cheek kisses) you can do what you want with this request.🫶🏼have a good day! I love your blogs btw!! :))) it’s nice to see some hxh blogs😭

Killua with HisokasSister!reader

Characters: Killua Zoldyck Type: Fluff, Headcanons, Fem!reader

ok I know my rules say I won't write romantically for Killua or Gon but this one is kinda in a grey area and the request was cute soooo up to interpretation even though it's intended to be mostly platonic >.< also im going to try and be nice as a certified Hisoka hater LMAO

Warnings: Hisoka.

being Hisoka's little sister was...interesting

he's literally insane a lil cray but he's all you got and you wouldn't trade him for the world

you met Killua at the hunter exam and became part of the little friend group he had going because you were one of the only other kids there

and over your time there you ended up getting attached to him

you followed him around all the time and latched yourself to his side whenever you could

and poor boy was conflicted

it was kind of annoying but also? nice at the same time???

so yeah despite him looking so annoyed at you all the time he doesn't actually try stopping you from showing him affection

he has no clue what to do with all the random stuff you give him especially since they're pretty useless sometimes...

and he's very confused on where you find this stuff and why you even thought of giving it to him

like where tf did you find a bird skull? and how did you manage to find so many pieces of sea glass??????

you're like a crow with attachment issues or something

it's not until after the exam and you follow him and Gon to heaven's arena that he finds out you're related to Hisoka

and hes like HAH!?!?

when you all made it to the 200th floor the boys were literally shaking in their boots when they got closer to Hisoka

and when you ran up to him and hugged him like it was nothing? ARE YOU CRAZY!?

after his talking and whatever and Wing coming to get you guys Hisoka's like sooo are you coming with me or what

and you're like nah I wanna stay with Killua

and hes like "Oh my, seem's like someone's infatuated with the Zoldyck boy. Don't worry, he's not the one I'm interested in"

and Killua is like WTFFFF

HOW IS SOMEONE SO WEIRD AND SCARY RELATED TO YOU

he's more weary around you now and a lot more hesitant to ever push you away

he already liked and admired you as a person but now there is an added fear factor

we all know Illumi doesn't like Killua having friends

but if it's you? ...well there's not much you can really do

he doesn't mind all that much because your brother is a valuable ally and you've probably got potential too

but yeah overall Killua just accepts your affection without any questions partially because he is afraid

[maybeiwasjustjade]

The in-canon explanation for mates makes little sense. If mates are supposedly matched for their equal powers, only one of the three canon mates makes sense: Lucien and Elain. And I say this mostly because of how they found out + their respective power levels.

Elain is a Made female and a seer, and Lucien—while the son of the current HL of Day—is just an ordinary, if particularly powerful, Fae male. Elain has no idea what she’s capable of yet, because no one lets her do anything. Even before Nesta’s magic began manifesting as silver flames or her connection to the Trove, the IC used her for the war by scrying and stuff. Elain is so far untrained even in the one gifts she’s aware of. In a way, it matches with Lucien and the heritage he’s still blind to (potentially anyway). And just like Elain has to potential to be very powerful someday, Lucien may very well be HL of Day.

Plus, they make sense in ways Rhys/Feyre didn’t. Elain became Lucien’s mate after she was made fae, because then the canon theory works. But Rhysand somehow knew Feyre was his mate even before she became Fae, but that makes little sense when you think about it. If the canon theory is accurate, why would the Mother pair the *most powerful* HL with a mere human girl? You can’t even say its about the potential of her becoming fae, because that’s bargaining on fate.

What if Feyre hadn’t been chosen by Tamlin, or she had died before the events of ACOTAR? Or if Nesta or Elain had been brought to Spring instead, and Feyre remained human. What if Feyre never died UtM? Would the HL of Night spend a meager 60ish with a human mate? And while I disagree about Feyre’s power levels, the canon given one is on par with a HL’s, so at leats they match in that.

The same problem with Nesta/Cassian. The bond didn’t snap when she was human, and neither really had a clue before she became Fae, which works. But the power disparity between them is odd. For all that Cassian is a powerful Illyrian, he doesn’t hold candle to Nesta, power loss or no. He has six siphons and nothing else; she has command over life and death, has the power to Make (and Unmake probably), and the Trove answers to her alone. Paired with Gwydion, Nesta rivals Rhysand. So how are they equal to one another? It would make more sense if Nesta’s mate was Azriel even, or Lucien like the original plans. Eris, even.

And honestly, I really abhor the whole “mates are chosen for the sake of breeding powerful children” theory so goddamn much. I know Rhysand said it so most readers accept it as truth, but it really shows SJM’s values if she goes through with it. The idea that a woman is only worth a mate if she can give him children is gross. It also goes against both Feyre and Nedta being mated to Illyrians given the whole wings debacle. But mostly it’s just disgusting that even in a fantasy book, the females are just incubators for powerful heirs. Even the Helion/LoA being mates thing fall under this considering the whole point of it was to birth Lucien.

And it’s also just really homophobic? Because then it means mates can only happen in a heterosexual relationship that would inadvertently result in babies. Kinda disgusting to imply that two males or two females aren’t deserving of such a *beautiful* bond just because they can’t pop out children from it.

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if...they wanted to propose to you!

dsmp if... series goes wild  anyway

dream: - he’d put himself out there with a poise of confidence and strategy - like bro is prepared . he knows when where what why and how all this shit is happening  - but is also kinda like “ill just wing it and we’ll see how it goes lol” - get this man a schedule - he doesnt want to do a whole public thing so in my head i see him proposing to you in like a restaurant but like a fancy one - hed splurge for sURE  - one of those guys who had like 50 million meeting with ring companies to design the perfect one - asked his mom for help on designing a ring  - he had the blueprint for a speech in his head but when the moment came he went with the flow  - but when hes proposing hed remember his speech so hed be like - “i had this speech that id written, but looking at you made me forget it all, will you marry me?” or some shit like that LMFAOOO - pays sapnap money to come eat the place too so he can take pictures 

sapnap: - okay sapnap is a family man in my head - hed also want to do a destination proposal - maybe greece? rome? somewhere not in america is what im feeling - or hed do it in a fucking ranch in texas or like down the street from the dream team house either one - EITHER WAY he would want your parents and his parents MINIMUM to be there - searches up “best wedding ring designs 2022″ in google and hopes and prays - hed have one or two meeting to plan the ring but i think he’d be confident in what you like  - even if he has no clue - like “so sir, do you think your future fiance would like a rose gold band or gold band?” “rose gold for sure” *has no idea what you like * - would not try to plan a speech, he knows he’d forget it and wouldn’t even use it - saves all that material for the vows - so confident you’ll say yes that he starts calling ahead to look at venues to tour - LMFAO IMAGINE YOU ANSWER HIS PHONE AND THE GUY IS LIKE “hello yes we’re calling nick because he had interest in touring our wedding venue! congrats on the engagement!” - and youd be like “tf” - so you know - but dont tell him you know please it would make his year 

george: - is nervous - “dream what if they say no idk” “bro youre a fucking idiot” - def doesnt want to do a public proposal, he likes the private aspect - so he does it at home or some shit and his phone up to record cause bro knows youd be mad if you had no memento - but he doesnt do it secretly - hed press record and set it up so you can obviously see it - and youre expecting some prank - but then he gets down on one knee and youre tearing up and shi right in the middle of your kitchen - get mad at him for not letting you dress up and look nice for it - has a speech planned out in his head. word for word. and recites that shit back to you like its fucking drama class - once u say yes hes on discord like “SHE SAID YES” and sapnaps like “no fucking shit” - he’s the type of guy to make a ring that he likes and hopes that you like it too - luckily you do like the ring so it all works out - if not just tell him he wont be mad hell just go make a new one

quackity: - asks you like a few months earlier if you want to get married - “do you wanna get married” “sure” - so he knows youre locked in and ready to go LMFAOO even if you interpreted it as light hearted at the time - because of that theres a little suspicion that goes on in your mind when you see him go “i gotta take this call” or “no im def not looking up wedding venues 2023 what do you mean” - but you being the great s/o you are just ignore it - is he proposing or did he take you on a late night drive to an outlook thing - is he proposing or did you catch karl in the bushes with a camera - is he proposing or did he say youre beautiful - is he proposing or did he get down on one knee?? YK WHAT IM SAYING - bro just stares at you and you stare at him like - “babe” “babe” love - youre nodding ur head yes before bro gets a chance to speak - which is good cause he didn’t know what he wanted to say - not that he doesnt know what to say its just - he has so many words for you that he cant put them into words - was ready to blurt out a mixture of spanish and english and hope u caught his drift

karl: - enlists the help of his friend - “hey tina take y/n to get their nails done” - “hey brooke take y/n to get a new dress” - “hey sapnap give me money to buy y/n a ring” LMFAOFMOA - no hed be saving up that shit for AGES - started a proposal dream pinterest board the minute he knew you were the one - subtly ran ideas by you over the course of the years you were together - you didnt think of anything. blissfully unaware - “look at this picture on pinterest!” “oh its sO PRETTY!! imagine getting engaged there” - *saves it to the board* - BUT AS A RESULT he cant make up his mind on where to propose - so he just picks one enie-meanie-miney-mo or however you spell it  - wherever it ends up being its so sweet - mr beast or someone tricks you into coming to the location under the guise of a video  - and you show up and its karl in a suit - “lets go on a walk love” “okay?” - you get an idea of whats about to happen

wilbur: - stalks your pinterest stalks your moms pinterest stalks your ex friends sister met someone at the club and he kissed her’s pinterest - is SO CONFIDENT he’s got everything right because all his information is form you directly - plans that shit out to a T  - “okay phil at 11:02 am you call y/n and say good morning any plans for the day then tommy at 11:34 am call y/n and ask her if she wants to join you for a vlog at [location]” “dude wil we know lets just get on with it” - chooses somewhere with ambience with music perhaps by the ocean or a river or something - meticulously listens to all of spotify for the perfect song to play in the background - hired james and ash (professionals) to film  -  public proposal wants the world to know that he is wilbur and he loves you -  isnt nervous about proposing but is scared something is gonna go wrong -  the whole build up to the proposal is a blur to him  - he wants it to be perfect - hes mentally checking everything off in his head as it happens - “okay so we arrived on time, check” “we’re standing in the right direction check” - when the time comes to propose he blanks - cause everything went right and now its showtime - says whatever is on his mind and then gets on track - “oh my god everything i alright this is amazing! but i love you dear like a lot and...” - cue cheering from tommy (and a lot of soft smiles from random people) when you say yes 

please send me requests it took me days to figure out what to write about here

[nenestansunsthings]

"Hey. You're Joe Hills, right?"

The man who turns to him to looks far too normal, a casual guy with long hair and green glasses and gloves. Quackity can't imagine why they beat Wilbur. Why her people campaigned so hard for him, why they had hundreds in the lead for hours upon hours until the polls closed and Wilbur lost to her. When the guy smiles cheerfully towards him, the question only becomes more poignant.

"Yup! That's me! Joe Hills, from Nashville, Tennessee." He offers their hand to shake, and in a flash Quackity takes it. Her grip isn't strong, and he blinks in surprise when Quackity's own is firm. "And you're Quackity, right? Good job with your poll!! That was a real close win, but your people pulled through right where it mattered!"

Quackity waves it off. "I never had a doubt. Of course my fans wouldn't let me lose! I'm the sexiest red bird around here, after all!" Unbidden, his wings flutter. "But heyyy, that's not what I came here for. I came here for you! We had an alliance, didn't we? Come on, hi-five, amigo, we did well today!"

Joe blinks. "We had an alliance?"

"Uh, yeah? What, don't tell me you didn't know." He scoffs. "Your fans didn't tell you? I heard you were out there campaigning yourself. Posting shirtless videos and everything! Just my kinda guy." Cheerfully, he slings an arm around Joe, pleasantly surprised when the guy doesn't even flinch. "I thought you agreed to the alliance yourself!"

"... Oh, that alliance!" Their eyes light up in recognition. "Yeah, I saw a few people talking about that. People get really excited in my chat, y'know? Though they were pretty torn." He shrugs. "I mean, Grian's a friend of mine, even if I have no clue how he thinks. But yeah, that was all them!"

Quackity can't help but stare. "You didn't know they were allying against a friend of yours?!"

"Nope! They just kinda do what they want." Joe laughs, the sound tinged with fondness. Something in that makes Quackity's gut churn uncomfortably. They just… do that? Ally against friends? Work with people who they think will stab them in the back later? And all in the name of someone who doesn't even know what they're planning? "I think it's great that they all got together to support you! But hey, there's only one person I'm hoping will win, and you know who it is! I wouldn't be campaigning for myself if I didn't want that win."

"Ha! Yeah, I know how it is." He grins back, golden tooth gleaming brilliantly. "Don't feel too down when I thrash you, alright?"

"We'll see about that!" Normally, Quackity would be on edge from that kind of declaration, but there isn't a shred of hostility in her vice. There's only delight, friendly competition. "I have faith that my viewers will pull ahead, and that I can campaign hard enough to convince people! I've been working really hard, after all. Even bought some new rainbow eyes, just for the occasion!"

"Wait, what."

Joe blinks, and when their eyes open again they are joined by a hundred others, flickering with a thousand colours and all seeing- staring- beholding. Just before he can think the word watching, they flutter shut.

"That's not the right word for me, just to be clear," Joe chastises him. "Watching. I'm not a part of that group."

Quackity has no goddamn idea what she means. So after a moment of stunned silence, he continues.

"... Do your fans think the eyes are hot?"

"I think they're sexyman enough to win the contest," he says, which clears up nothing. "But, most importantly, I think they'd vote for me anyway! Even without my beautiful, glowing, rainbow-checked eyes. Which are, by the way, divinely beautiful, and should be appreciated."

"Hey, man, if you're the kind of guy to buy new eyes for a competition, they'd better vote for you." Quackity shakes his head. "What, did they bribe you for it? Say they'd vote for you if you blinked in rainbows? That's not a healthy relationship, man, you gotta get out of there."

Joe snorts. "No, this is all for me. But thanks for worrying! If my people ever start demanding I grow new eyes before they tip me, I'll just find new people." He waves a hand nonchalantly. "I don't think my viewers would do that, anyway."

"... Hm." Quackity hesitates, settling a few feet away from Joe. "... I dunno, man. I mean, they made that alliance without you, didn't they? Hard to think you could trust 'em after something like that. Not a lot of unity in that kind of campaign, especially if there was some kind of in-fighting about voting me over your friend."

Some tiny, tiny part of him feels a little sick at the thought. But it dies down quickly enough. This isn't the first time he's brought people to blows over loyalty, after all.

But Joe looks unbothered. "They're good people. They'll figure it out for themselves. And they understand why people would vote you over Grian, or why their friends would support you."

"Oh?" Quackity raises an eyebrow. "You talk like you've seen it yourself. Did they shake hands and make up and write songs about their reconciliation? I'd love to see that- you encourage their poetry, it looks like. They've gotta have some skills."

"Nah, nothing like that. You're thinking too big, Quackity HQ." Their sunny smile shifts, softening at the edges. "They're just friends. They don't hate each other for wanting a different person to win. If this was something important like politics- which is very important, remember to vote on both a local and national level to support what's best for your community!- then it might be different. But this is fine."

He scoffs. "Please. I've seen the posts. Some of those guys came out swinging against me."

"And they know it's an exaggeration!" she assures him. "Just look around. All across this great land of Tumblr, there are people reminding each other to be kind. To be civil. To watch whether their feelings are turning into hate, and to take a step back and breathe if things go too far. Sure, things have gone too far. But that happens in all kinds of events, not just this one. And mostly, our viewers want to be kind."

"Man. You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you." Quackity looks away. "But that's not really what I mean. It's more…"

He's not sure the words are right on his tongue. He says them anyway.

"They're supposed to be united," he tries. "I know you all wanted a Hermitsweep. Your people rule the polls. Doesn't it scare you, that they can split so much behind your back? Isn't it weird, to trust them with this?"

For a second, Joe is silent. Quackity grits his teeth, turns- but the faint green glow of his checkmarks is dim, and there's a twinge of honest fear in his eyes.

"... To be honest, it feels weird." He rests his head on their knees, fingers wrapped tight around her arms. "Just a little bit. I didn't expect this much. And the competition last round was a lot, let me tell you."

Quackity snorts. "I was there, man. No need to tell me. So much voter fraud…"

"And bribery! Don't forget bribery." Joe laughs. "But I do trust them. Whatever they do. I'll be disappointed if I lose, obviously, but it happens. It's hard to really be angry when you think about the core of all this."

"Popularity?" he jokes.

"Well, a little. I've been told Scar is not a sexyman, just a sexy man. Still not sure what criteria people are voting by. But mostly, I think it's love."

"Love?" Quackity raises an eyebrow. "What made you think that?"

Joe sighs. "I dunno. It's just… it's the only thing that it could be, really. This contest doesn't mean anything. There's no prize. All it is is just people wanting the entertainers they love most to win. And look at everything they've created for that goal."

Quackity knows. He's seen the swathes of art, the stories, the people getting out drawing tablets or phones or paper and camera to thank people who voted in their favour. He's seen old artworks shared years after their making. He's seen silly powerpoints, walls of text, analysis and promotions of videos from the starts of careers. It's a little terrifying, really, in the same way angels are.

He's pretty sure Joe would know, too.

"Yeah, not every one of my viewers joined your alliance. Even with my personal campaigning, none of them brought it up to me. But whoever they voted, whether it was Grian because he's someone they fought to see this high up or you because they wanted to share the support your people offered me, they voted out of love. Because they love me, or they love you, or they love whoever else they wanted to win."

"... They love you, huh?"

It's an odd thought. Quackity's well used to heartbreak, to abandonment. To people only staying because he had something to offer. But in this silly contest, with tens of thousands of people cheering for him…

"They love you too," Joe says with a smile. "So I'm happy you won. I'd say you're a pretty worthy opponent."

Quackity barks out a laugh, turning to Joe with fire in his eye. "A worthy opponent? You'll be taking those words back when I win. My people love me, don't they? So I'm sure as hell they'll put their money where their mouth is."

"Oh, we'll see." A thousand eyes open, turning a rainbow gaze upon him. He meets their stare head-on. "After all," Joe Hills says, "You were right about one thing. We want a Hermitsweep."

[hugemilkshake]

Hey can you do more uh...self aware cookie run au with anxious reader? Just I can't help but imagine more scenarios of y/n being anxious and thinking 'OH MY GOD IM GONNA DIE!' Buuut end up spoiled by cookies. Here are some examples I thought up but if you think of anymore cute and fun things, I'd love to see em too!

Y/n goes to the hollyberry kingdom and meets pitaya. Thinks they are gonna die to dragon...nope, dragon just wants to encourage y/n to make smores or roast jelly dogs over their flames and if a single one of the cookies who sabotage the competition even think for a SECOND about interrupting that, then they got another thing coming!

Y/n thinks they are gonna die to the licorice sea or the traitor affogato cookie when encountering them....sea acts kind to y/n somehow (or just ignores em...your choice lol) and affogato just wants to spoil y/n with sweets! (Bonus: instead of joining the COD....they go with y/n as something along the lines of 'you know what? I don't want to take over this kingdom anymore. I don't want it anymore, I want y/n! King, I admit to everything, please banish me so I can run away to y/n's kingdom!') Lmao!

Golden cheese kingdom...y/n goes in, thinking glitches are gonna kill em buuuut all the digital cookies make sure y/n is feeling safe, happy, and comfortable....aaaand golden cheese gives em lots of hugs lol! Can imagine being wrapped up in her wings feels really good!

Enjoy the milkshake! I had to give an excuse for writing about affogato cookie- I mean, the dude caused me brain rot. Also I’m not writing any golden cheese stuff because smoked cheese massacred my team and I’m angry at that (my team had way more power than smoked cheese)

Somewhat plot relevant?

-platonic self aware au-

Normally you had means of controlling your anxiety but at this moment, there was no way you could control your anxiety. You were in the middle of a forest! And not even one in your own world! It was one in the game you had recently just gotten into!

You were only on episode 4 in the story mode so you literally had no clue where you were. You just sat on the ground and started to silently panic.

But at some point a cookie you did see once in the cookie unlock screen kinda picked you up and just took you to a palace? You don’t really remember what the cookie said but they weren’t hurting you! So that must mean something!

But you were now having a feast in this palace with a cookie who you learned was actually a dragon- well anyways the dragon said they were Pitaya Dragon, also known as The Red Dragon. You did panic for a moment before Pitaya told you to just chill out and have something to eat.

And you know what? It was actually quite fun! The Red Dragon talked about other dragons and nice fun stories while the two of you ate, you were sad to go but you had too. You got some berries and stuff you could sell as a wondering traveler. Though you did tell Pitaya you’d come back one day so might want to stay close

——————

You had gone from a warm and humid forest to a frozen wasteland. What’s more to say? You had everything you needed to survive and villages were quite nice to you, you had your own gear so you didn’t bother them too much.

But you did befriend a peculiar cookie when you were by the Dark Cacao kingdom…

A cookie who looked quite lavish found you and seemed a little lost and panicked… kinda how you were when you first got here…. You felt bad to the cookie so you went to talk to them

Apparently his name is Affogato Cookie and he was banished from the Dark Cacao kingdom on the grounds of the false accusations of him trying to upstage the king. Poor guy…

Now since Pitaya Dragon was so generous to you when you had nothing so you decided to help Affogato get back in his feet since you should be passing on others kindness!

What you didn’t know was that one Affogato lied to you, two Affogato had connections to Dark Enchantress and three, he would become your travel buddy. So now the two of you travel around as friends :3

[temptress-writes]

⚓️ The Endeavour

A/N: Piraterry. Nasty as hell smut. He's after some booty. He gets it and then some.

C.W: coarse language, drinking, violence, beardrrY

Sexual Content Warnings: -virgin mc -breath play. whoops. like big whoops. -blood kink -pain kink -squirting (always only the best for the gals) -beard kink (I just wanna leave it wet) -cock warming kinda (mentioned) -somnophilia (not really but a body is explored while said body is unconscious nothing explicit but wanted to list it anyway)

This smut is feral. So have fun!

Word count: 15.8k. A light meal from mama.

***

The Caribbean Sea.

1723.

The hull groaned under the shattering weight of the fierce waves, her bow slicing through swell after powerful swell.

With the tip of his hat, a burst of pride erupted in his chest at her sheer fight and force. He kept her in top shape, knowing a single slip-up would end with him and her in a sandy, unforgiving grave.

He yelled a bursting abundance of encouragement and order to his crew, who through their own sheer will and determination, held their own against the torrid waves.

They had been on the open ocean for weeks. Skewering the waves for ripples in its currents, showing the way to riches. Nothing but a captain's sheer dream to follow a path many believed to be purely fiction, rumour, and nightmare.

There were tales of an untouched island, long since forgotten by many. Except for him. The hidden place had been a bedtime story for him, his fallen mother lulling him to sleep with talk of a luscious cove, twinkling with gold and jewels, protected by sea creatures so fearsome that no one lived to warn others. Only tales made shores carried by whispering swells.

She had gone so far as to paint it for him one night, his tiny child mind so enthralled by a land he could only place as his own heaven.

Crystal clear water, a wide cove that delved into the land with hidden secrets that if reached, guaranteed the succeeder a lifetimes worth of riches.

He kept the painting. Folded it up tight and stored it in his locket, right next to his heart. It hung from the chain his father had left him, the only reminder he had of his parents before they fell ill when he was barely a teen.

With nothing but the clothes on his back and the memory of his loved ones, he had to build a life for himself. He mainly started out as a ship repairer's assistant. Holding out tools and swiped coins of gold when his boss wasn’t looking. He paid him a piece a week and it had made for some painfully hungry nights. So he’d turned to sly swiping where he could, purely to survive.

Every night, he dreamt of that cove. Of its glistening, gentle waves. Of the sea creatures that guarded the hidden heaven. Ones that he would slay with all his might, so that he may bask in the treasures they fought to covert.

An oasis he now attempted to charter.

“What do you think?” He asked his Quartermaster as he headed below deck to his quarters, his mate beside him. They entered the office, heading to the map laid out on the table, weight down by compasses and clutter.

“I think you’re on a fool’s errand, captain.” As he’d been saying for weeks.

“There will be many riches at the end of this voyage, Brigg. I promise you. It will be well worth it.”

“Say we get there, Harry,” Brigg reasoned, his hands on his hips, “what of the beasts they say that roam the waters?”

Sharks with rows and rows of vicious teeth, fearless krakens that ate ships like his for sport. Sirens lured sailors to the depths where they would toy with them before eating them limb by limb. And then there was the landscape to attest for. Jagged rocks and shallow waters that dismembered hulls like a bird's wing through the wind.

Harry himself had no clue how they’d navigate such a tight cove with as many dangers as the lore spoke of. But he was a determined man, and it had yet to steer him and his crew wrong.

He adjusted his weapon belt across his hips, his sword sitting strong in its scabbard. He’d yet to unsheathe it on this journey but had no doubt he’d have to ensure its sharpness for what was ahead.

“We’ll continue to train, Brigg. We have strong soldiers on board with us. We shall find nothing but glory.”

“If we even find the cove.”

Harry shot him an unamused look, “Adjust us to the west. The waves are mighty today, we cannot afford to be off course.”

“Yes, captain.”

Brigg left him, and he allowed a moment to feel exhausted. He threw his hat on the desk, grabbed a bottle of rum, and took a much-needed swig, not caring that it spilled past his lips and down the front of his shirt.

He stripped his frock coat from his body and sagged into his chair, staring at the map, a tiny circle in red showing where they were headed. He adjusted the wooden ship pawn an inch closer to its target.

It wasn’t even on maps long since drawn by cartographers at every corner of the earth. He’d seen it all, seen too much to be riddled by what-ifs and myths. He’d seen wonderous things on his travels, and his hope would not be dwindled by another man’s doubts.

But old stories spoke of a small island, far too small for anyone to see. Tucked away in the Caribbean Sea, warded off by treacherous swells and ravenous creatures. All guarded treasures far too priceless for any man to get their hands on.

For weeks they’d charted choppy waters, their food supply strong, freshwater abundant no thanks to the severe rains.

He felt strongly about this endeavour. Among the hundreds of treasure hunts he’d been on, this was one he felt most strongly about.

He had told no one about this trip aside from his crew. He had become a well-known pirate in England. Notorious and feared. He garnered such a reputation by playing dirty, and he gained many enemies while doing so. The last thing he needed was a rival on his tail.

His life was on the high seas, his lover his compass.

While he wasn’t opposed to bedding some maiden at whatever tavern he stumbled into once they’d ported, they were fleeting moments. He was always on his ship. The Siren. For she always called to him, longing for the dangerous adventure of the ocean.

He nestled into his bunk, knowing that not much would happen overnight. They’d port at Barbados come sunrise, halting their journey only for supplies and to stretch their legs.

He dreamt of the cove, as he always did. But this time was different. It was clearer, a soft ringing in his ears as he was drawn closer to the shore.

The dock at Barbados was rumbling with life. Much more than he’d ever seen it. It was rich with trade, with merchants from every corner of the earth gathering to sell their goods at high prices.

Harry scored some fresh fruits he could not get back in England, chewing happily as he and Brigg wandered the streets. He eyed many of the local women, winking and asking their names, wondering if they had room for him in their beds tonight.

They’d giggle, sensing his reputation as rocky as the shores before them. He had no trouble finding someone to have fun with but loved to scope out his options.

Pineapple juice dripped down his chin, the Caribbean sun blistering and unwavering. Heating him with a fire that drove his need for adventure and discovery. The sun, he thought, was another treasure. The land he came from rarely was blessed with its presence.

They passed more vendors, selling weapons and gear and ammo, maps, and repairs for ships. It had been years since he’d seen this island, it was good to see it doing so well.

An older man stood by his store. A small, quant swordsmith with an abundance of glittering weapons. Harry veered closer, intrigued. Something about his weathered expression drove his curiosity wild. He only saw such an expression in wary seamen.

“Good day, traveller.” The swordsmith’s heavy accent sounded as he sharpened a blade on a block.

“Sir,” Harry nodded. “Are you well?”

The man smiled wryly. “I will be should you give me some coin.”

“You seem well-travelled. Tell me what you know of this island.” Harry produced his map, pointing to the circle drawn in the middle of dangerous waters.

The swordsmith sagged, rubbing his aged forehead. “You will not survive it, boy.”

“So you have been there.” It was real. The sense of relief he felt at that moment was unlike any other sensation. He had been drawn to these tides by a tale. This was the first sense of reality he’d felt.

The man looked away, picking up his tools as if wanting to move on from the conversation. Harry smiled, throwing down a couple of gold coins on the workbench. The man scooped them up, counting, deliberating.

“In all my years, I have never chartered such a sea. Whatever is out there, tis real.”

“What is out there?” He threw down more coins.

“Danger. Fearsome creatures, both terrifying and beautiful. Shows you whatever you desire most and dangles it in front of you until they have you in your grasp.”

“What about the island?”

The man laughed. “Fool. I did not reach the island. I turned up on the shores here with no memory, no ship, no crew. Everything gone. Tis a curse, boy. Nothing more. Beware.”

It did little to sway his curiosity. His draw to this island was nothing to afraid of. Not a curse or a fool’s errand. It was his calling.

“Thank you, sir. Your candour is appreciated.” It would also be ignored, but he chose to withhold that fact. He slid the man more gold, purchasing a small dagger fashioned with pearls in its hilt. They glowed in the sun, and he added it to his scabbard with pride.

His hat shielded him from the torturous sun as he found his way back to The Siren, missing her familiarity. How she was every part of him, just as his bones were. His crew was washing up, sweeping the decks, and righting the gunports.

The main mast groaned as a gust blew through it, the small swells of water lapping at the hull, hungry for more. He checked in with his crew, ensuring everybody was rested and ready for the journey ahead.

“We set sail at midday. Not a minute later.” He eyed them all, pacing ahead of them as they stood in line listening to orders. “We should reach the island by nightfall. The sea ahead is dangerous, but I trust you all to get us there. Whatever we find will be ours to share.”

“Aye, Captain!”

“What if there is no gold?” One of the deckhands questioned. He was one of Harry’s newer men and had less experience on the seas than any of them. Hell. He still got nauseous when sailing, and still got on Harry’s nerves.

“When have I steered us wrong?” Harry glanced at him. “We have followed maps into the most far reaches of the sea, and have been rewarded each time for our bravery. This shall be no different.”

“Aye, Captain.” The deckhand muttered, adjusting his hat on his head.

“Prepare for sail.” Harry shouted, sauntering into his quarters to watch over the map. Brigg ensured everyone was doing their jobs, barking out orders to keep everyone in check.

Harry stared at the map for a time, feeling outside of his own mind. The wind seemed to howl, melting into a high-pitched tone that had him wincing before he blinked, back in his own boots once more.

“Keep her steady!” He yelled from the deck, his feet anchored to the barrier, his hands burning from their grip on the ropes. Sea water lashed at him, threatening to take him down to its luring depths.

The currents were strong here, his crew struggling to keep them on course. The sails whipped in the vicious winds, snapping and threatening to tether.

He had never seen anything like it. Otherworldly anger unleashed within the waves and wind, pummelling his ship with no mercy. His crew was struggling, he could sense it. See that they were unable to ride the movements of the ship, being thrown around every which way.

“Get the sail down!” He yelled out, helping at the masts. They had to coast while the wind was at its strongest. Ride it out until they could figure out their course. As it stood, he hadn’t a clue where they were.

The ocean had never been so angry. Perhaps that old swordsmith had been right. This was a curse. A festering evil. His mind flashed to creatures that could be lurking beneath his ship. A fearsome Kraken waiting to take them down and feast on their flesh while the wood and steel of The Siren rotted at the bottom of the depths.

This was a fight he could not win.

A strong wave swept over the ship, filling the deck with water, and sweeping every man off their feet. He clung onto the rope for dear life, chilled to his bones as the wind whipped at his body.

“We have to go back, Captain!” Brigg yelled over the thunder, a flash of lightning soon following it to ignite his scorned expression.

“We cannot yield!” He fought. They’d worked too hard to turn back now. Turning the ship may seal their fate.

“Cap—”

A swell whirled over the boat, this one higher than any of the ones before, sweeping Harry from his perch overseeing the deck, ready to swallow him into the currents. He clung onto the rope, his grip slipping as his calloused hand failed to comply, frozen and aching.

His hold on the rope slipped, and his stomach dropped as he began falling to the angry depths metres below him. He was being smashed against the hull, knocked back and forth like a rag doll. Held victim to the harsh elements. He yelled out, not ready to abandon his crew. His ship.

He was going to drown.

Flashes in the sky accompanied an eerie ringing, high in pitch and deafening.

And then a hand shot out, taking his as his final grip loosened. He was hauled overboard again, flopping into the saturated deck before he was out cold.

His ears were ringing. A build-up of fatigue and trauma, seared his brain as he blinked in surprise at the scene around him. He could hear Brigg calling his name, and see his crew helping each other up and tending to the wounded. After a quick head count, he knew he’d lost men.

He gathered himself, feeling the oak beneath his back was still wet. But the overpowering anger of the ocean was no more, and he listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

His body thrummed in pain but he ignored it. He would take care of himself later. There was no time to waste when the elements weren’t lashing at them.

His chest burned at the realisation, and he stood with a groan, finding Brigg rushing to his side. It was not uncommon in this life, and it was something he dealt with every time they left the shallow shores.

“How many?” He rasped. “How many did we lose?”

“Five.”

He grimaced, still out of it, his body bruised and weathered.

“You were out for no longer than ten minutes, Captain. The storm has subsided, and quickly so. Never seen anything like it in all my years at sea.”

“The calm will not last, however, we must take advantage of it.” He strolled into the cabin, finding the map, grateful that the ocean had not destroyed it. “How far off course are we?”

“I can’t work it out. The storm derailed us completely.”

“Tis a good thing we overshot after we set sail. Recourse us west.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

“I am. We’re close, I can feel it.”

Harry made the rounds, checking on his crew, and offering condolences even while his own heart felt too heavy for his body to carry. Everyone was exhausted. Tired. But he promised them that the reward was near.

He stood at the helm, the wheel gripped firmly in his ringed hands. The water was black, even the dim candle lighting doing nothing to illuminate it. But there was a tether inside of him, guiding him towards that cove from his dreams. He would slaughter every creature that stood in his way. Fight every rogue wave that threatened to drown him.

The Siren groaned, and he frowned, leaning forward to scope out the environment around them.

The world was dark. An onyx abyss that had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. His gaze scoured his surroundings, seeing nothing but pitch black. Everything went still, eerily still.

Harry loosed a breath, leaving his post at the helm and going to the side. Amongst the nothingness, there was a large mass, not two miles ahead of them. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, or how he was seeing it.

But all he knew was that it was an uninhabited piece of land, surrounded by a thick disturbance, something he could not place. Could not see or smell. But he could feel it.

“Lower the anchor.” He spoke into the air, his crew not hearing him. “Lower the anchor!”

They complied quickly, working together to drop the anchor. The Siren came to a slow stop, and Brigg approached him with a raised brow.

“What is it?”

“There,” he breathed, “do you see it?”

Brigg allowed his gaze to follow Harry’s extended arm, the pointed hand. He looked beyond it, squinting.

“See what, lad?”

“The island.”

“There is no island, Captain. Just water as far as the eye can see.”

Harry shot him a look. “Tis your old eyesight failing you, Brigg. Prepare a boat.”

“It is not safe—”

“Prepare a boat.” He bit out. “This is where we need to be.”

Brigg appeared skeptical, but it was not his place to question his Captain. It was nobody’s place. A few men prepared the pinnace, lowering it down onto the gentle waves. Harry prepared himself with a heavier coat, his favourite sword, and his compass.

His whole life had been a build-up to this moment. From the bedtime stories from his dear mother to finding his feet as his own explorer. It had all been for this. For this off-the-map cove that he wasn’t even sure was real.

“I will scout first, and be back by daylight.”

“Please… be careful.”

“I shall return with good news, Brigg. I can feel it in my bones.”

Using the ladder draped down the hull, Harry lowered down into the boat, Brigg leaning down to pass him a lit lantern. He shot down the offer to have a few of his deckhands with him. This part he had to do alone.

The tiny boat bobbed on the waves, and he glanced out at the mass of land again, sensing that pulsing once more. His ears rang with the promise of fulfillment. He began rowing.

He rowed until he was halfway between The Siren and the island, and his heart began drumming uneasily against his ribcage. He could taste the sheer gratification and accomplishment.

He kept watch for the lurking creatures he had been warned about time and time again. For the dreaded sharks and Krakens, the predators swarming below them, waiting. But they didn’t show.

The ringing appeared in his ears again, shrill and stark. He winced, shooting a hand up to cradle his head.

The peal became higher. Louder. So intense that he feared for the integrity of his hearing. He stood and looked around frantically, hoping to see some source that would explain such a protruding sound.

And then it softened completely, a quiet humming next to the boat that halted his search. He crouched, leaning over the side staring at his reflection on the glass-like veneer.

A disruptive ripple broke the surface of the water, illuminated by the radiant lantern.

A girl.

She was otherworldly beautiful. And she was humming, a lulling melody that had his spine melting into goo. She smiled up at him, looking through her lashes as she bit her lip. Her eyes were so dark as if mimicking the lapping waves, though glowing once he raised the lantern further towards her.

He opened his mouth to ask why she was there. How she was so far out from the shore and in such gloomy water. But his words bubbled in his throat, dissolving before they could reach his lips. As if she’d taken them.

She was just… watching him. Her dark hair slicked back away from her face, glistening with beauty. Her chocolate skin imitated the tone of his rum and his brain went foggy as she rose a few inches, and it was then that he saw that she was naked.

“Who are you?” He managed out, his voice not his own.

She only smiled at him again, humming that addictive tune before her hand shot up, her slender fingers gripping the side of the boat, right next to his jewelled hand.

He was so mesmerised he didn’t have it in him to be scared.

“Are you lost, sailor?” Her voice was silky. Liquid pearls trapped in clouds.

He felt his body fall lax as she stared at him, her lips plump as the words left them.

Lost. A sensation he had felt many times before. And of course, he felt it these past few weeks in the search for this island. Now as he looked away from the girl and towards the island, had disappeared.

He grew startled, his mind kicking back into gear. The island. The hope he felt. The magic cove from his dreams, the one he kept in his locket next to his heart. Gone. A hazy mirage that dissipated when he hadn’t been looking.

His mouth grew dry, “I could have sworn—”

“Shh.” Her cold, wet hand clasped his where it rested on the rim of the boat. “I can help you.”

He was locked in her trance again, paralysed by her. His worry was still stagnant in his brain but his body would not cooperate, still and at her will.

“I do not—”

“Come closer.” Her soft cadence took his breath away.

He found his body betraying him, leaning forward until the boat was almost tipping over. She smiled, her teeth gleaming. Her smile snapped something in him, a longing that was all too familiar to him. The yearning that centred around the painting in his locket. The draw to it was the same as it was to her.

She began humming, louder, completely entrancing him. His brain felt numb, every thought dispersing aside from her. Like his essence was honing in on hers. He was under her spell. His sole purpose for being here suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

And that sense of loss and aimlessness was the last thing he remembered before he was submerged completely.

The sensation of it was too many things at once. A festering fear that soothing hands calmed as he sank down into the murky depths. His passion and drive and reasoning for being on the open seas reduced to nothing. Reduced to droplets blinked from stormy brown eyes.

There had been things for him to fear here. He’d heard the myths. But nothing frightened him more than the beauty of her.

He was sure that he was dreaming, but his lungs were burning, filling with salty water as he tried to scream. But there was no one to save him. Just the sounds of his own muted cries and that all too-familiar melody. It became his new actuality.

Sinking to a euphony that made him feel eerily at peace.

A phantom hand explored the expanse of his chest, feather-light and timid. It touched his arms, his face, trailing his features. Exploring and mapping.

His senses came back to him slowly, and he heard the ocean. Soft swells kissed the shore, and his hand curled into the sand beneath him. He felt that hand venture south and he coughed, his lungs burned as water bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth.

He heard a voice, a small soothing ooh that could only be placed as sympathy. He opened his eyes, wincing as he took in the bright scene before him.

The sun was blinding, offensively so, and he shut his eyes for a moment more so that he could adjust. His head throbbed, the source of a sharp pain in his left temple.

Upon opening them, he turned his head, facing the coast. The water was a bright cerulean, invitingly pristine. No signs of his ship or his crew. What had happened? His vision was hazy, a blur of visions that he couldn’t determine were real or made up. He scarcely remembered leaving the dock at Barbados. Just little blips in time but some seemed fake.

That ghost touch graced his chest again, brushing his wet lips. His gaze turned towards the feeling and a violent gasp left him as he jolted away from the source.

A girl.

What was familiar to him was her striking beauty. Big brown eyes, deep golden skin with a halo of lush curls surrounding her head. She was dressed in white, scraps of flowy material that were bound together with beads and pearls.

Her brows pulled in, and her hand reached out toward him. “It’s okay. You are safe here with me.”

“W—What happened?” He panted, stilling at the feel of his saturated clothes. His scabbard was gone, as was his hat and coat. Only his pants, shirt, and boots remained.

“I found you here.” She said gently.

He tried to stand, disoriented. He fell to the ground, his arms too weak to lift himself up.

“Please, take care—”

“I remember you.” He rasped. “I… I saw you. I—I saw you in the water.”

She reached for him, taking his hand. “You are confused. I believed your ship was wrecked.”

“N—No, I saw you—”

“We must get off the beach.”

“Where am I?”

She didn’t answer him, and her hold on his hand tightened. He suddenly felt willing. Like his body had been given a boost of strength for him to stand. He watched her, allured by her perfection, her attire. Who was she? Why was she so familiar?

His mind flashed to black water before she pulled away, her eyes pulling him in before she backed up toward the island ahead.

It was small, either side of the beach framed with jagged rocks and tall cliffs. The island itself as heavy with thick vegetation. He had no clue where he was geologically. With his memory as spotty as it was, his ship could have wrecked miles off course and left him stranded here.

“Where is my ship?”

There were no remnants of The Siren on the shore. No debris or… any sign of life for that matter. It was a chilling feeling, especially seeing as whoever this girl was wasn’t giving any answers.

She led him towards a large tree just on the edge of the shore, a tall, overhanging tree that offered sanctum from the sunshine.

“What is this island?” He called after her. “Where are all the people?”

“There are no people here.”

He stopped, watching as she sat on a giant leaf and tended to a collection of fish laid out on a rock. They were fresh, and he spied her spear leaning against the tree.

“You are here alone?”

“Sit,” she nodded to a twin leaf next to hers. “And eat. You must be famished.”

He was, but the overall confusion and fear made him nauseous. “No, thank you.”

Her eyes became stormy, just as they had in his mind. He found himself sitting, taking a leaf full of fresh fish from her outstretched hand. He feasted, not realising quite how ravenous he was.

“Can I trouble you for a boat?” He needed to get off this island. Figure out where his ship and crew were.

“There are no boats here.”

Her words made his chest sink, and more questions followed that he opened his mouth to ask, but she interrupted him.

“Where were you headed, sailor?”

Her wording worried him. Where were you heading? Like she saw his being on this island as some kind of seal doom.

“I had just left Barbados.” If she wasn’t going to answer his questions, like hell he was going to answer hers. “I do not remember much following that.”

She adjusted her position, the slit of her skirt allowing his eyes to wander the expanse of her thigh.

“It has been some time since I have seen a man.”

“Is that so?” And that explained the wandering hands he felt as he awoke.

“Many years. You are very different from the ones I have seen.” She brushed her curls from her face, her skin glowing from the sun, crushed pearls glittering her features.

“Do you rescue sailors often?”

“No, never.”

He could not place her accent. Her cadence. Dreamy and soft-spoken. Nothing like the locals of the surrounding islands. No, this he could not put a finger on. She ventured a few metres into the tree line, finding a spring of fresh water which he gulped down.

He had allowed himself to scope out the area whilst she was gone. Aside from the fish and spear, there were no other signs of life on this beach. Was she from deeper inland? Did she come here by boat?

The sunset kissed the horizon, bleeding orange hues into his vision as he tried to gather his bearings.

It was as if she could read his thoughts, sense his panic and his queries.

“You must rest, sailor.” She whispered, that lulling voice swirling through his mind. He fell asleep on the beach, exhausted, perhaps even concussed from the injury on his temple that he did not know how he received.

He woke up hours later, disorientated and lost. He felt for a moment that he was on his ship, tucked away in his cabin next to the fireplace, a goblet of rum nestled comfortably in his hand.

But his new reality set in with the harsh bed of sand against his back and the dim light of the moon offering little comfort. He jolted upright, feeling more himself than he was earlier. Had hours passed? Or days? His body was groggy and his throat was parched.

And then he’d remembered those slender hands feeding him fresh fish, offering him crisp water from the spring in the trees somewhere. The girl. Golden and mysterious.

His eyes strained to see her, but she was not where he had last seen her, and it had his back straight immediately. Had she left him? Had she been a mere dream his jumbled brain had offered up in order to keep him sane?

The throbbing in his head had dulled some, and he reached up to massage the ache only to find it damp with some form of thick paste lobbed into the wound, which felt pretty much healed.

His memory was failing him, letting him down as he raked his thoughts for any sense of clarity but there was none. He wasn’t sure what was real. Couldn’t even remember his name.

He felt his locket around his neck, his sole truth, and fumbled to open it. He withdrew the small painting and even under the moonlight, he knew the strokes by heart. He put it back for safekeeping. His soul soared with a sense of something he couldn’t make out before his eyes flittered to the sea.

It was glittering in the effulgence, seeming to call him as that humming carried itself in the wind. He felt her before he saw her, the soft breeze carrying her presence to him.

She waded in the water, her hands splayed out as she toyed with swells between her fingers. She was just as real as he remembered, and yet, he wondered if she would disperse into the water and become one with it.

He stood, his boots filled with sand, but his clothes were dry now. He watched her, slowly walk towards the edge of the water, his gaze not once leaving her. He walked into the water, keeping his movements light so as not to startle her.

And as he got closer to her, he realised that she was naked. Her hair was wet and draped down her back, her skin a golden ray of moonlight that he wanted to laze in.

She gasped, turning to face him. Her breasts were covered by her wet curls but it didn’t matter to him. He struggled to move his eyes from the view.

“Who are you?” He asked over the rolling waves.

Her eyes were bottomless. “You should be resting.”

“Answer my damn question.”

“You do not need to know who I am, sailor.”

Her eyes became black bottomless pits that had him reeling backward in fear. Every question and ounce of confusion was gone as pure terror took over. She was otherworldly in her beauty, yes. But she had something dark and sinister wading beneath her skin.

He became overwhelmingly lethargic, his body controlled by something alien. And he felt the black hole invade his memory again as she slinked into the water before he saw nothing at all.

Many nights passed. He wasn’t sure how many, and had no sense of self or time. She fished early in the morning and allowed him to eat as much as he wanted before he was resting again. His body seemed too tired and he felt as though he was chasing his own tail trying to feel some sort of energy.

She was always dressed in those soft white linens, or shreds of them, bound together with shells, pearls, and beads.

And every night, he woke, watching her splash and play in the water. Naked and free, unaware of the fact that he was watching her. He didn’t dare approach her again, too fearful that she would control his mind and take it as her own.

She was not of this earth, he realised. Too perfect and too far from his grasp to understand. He enjoyed watching her, though. Enjoyed watching her lay out in the sun and play with her curls.

He bathed in the sea, fully unclothed, and ended up ditching his flimsy shirt once he realised it was only added to the heat his body was enduring. His tattoos were stark against his skin, now golden from his days in the sun.

Sometimes she would leave the beach. She’d venture up the coast, scaling dangerous rock formations. He would always try to follow her but he would lose sight of her, trying to keep up with her agile pace but he was simply not equipped for such a trek.

He always wondered where she went, but by the time she returned, he had grown too tired to ask.

He was caged in, their little beach framed with rock and backed with dense jungle. He tried to venture into the thick vegetation but found himself thrown off by how endless and dangerous it looked.

He was beginning to question if he had any semblance of sanity in the first place. What was true? What was his foggy imagination? He did not know.

The moon was especially large tonight, sat high in the sky, a brilliant silver that glazed over the locket at his chest. His eyes closed, prepared to fall asleep like he did every night.

He often wondered why he felt okay with this. His ship was out there somewhere, maybe even intact. His crew who relied on him… he struggled to even think about it. How had he ended up here? Alone? He had not gone so far from the ship.

His thoughts haunted him, taunting him with hidden memories, slips of water, and storms. But he could only remember that vendor in Barbados and then… waking up on this beach. And her. Her eyes and her beauty. But it was hazy. Like trying to recall a dream.

The moonlight danced behind his eyelids, the waves that kissed the shore somehow calming despite the peril he felt in his chest.

That all too familiar phantom touch laced the bare skin of his chest, and his eyes snapped open. The girl was leaning over him, her eyes burning with curiosity. He sat up abruptly, but she stayed close to him, their faces mere inches apart.

His hand grabbed hers from where it had fallen into her lap. He placed it back on his chest, his eyes on hers as she explored his body, his skin warm beneath her palm. His heart was racing so fast and she smiled as if she could feel it.

Her touch melted south, brushing his lower abdomen. He sucked in a breath and her eyes softened.

“Do you like this?” She asked him, her other hand joining in mapping out his body.

“Yes.” He whispered, wanting to reach out and touch her. But his hands remained put. He knew that the ball was in her court, and she’d reprimand him if he tried to take control.

“Swim with me.”

He was in a trance as she stood, helping him up. She shed her tiny layers of clothing as they walked towards the sea, and his gaze washed over her naked body in a daze. She met his eyes as if knowing he was watching and enjoyed the attention.

After removing all of his own clothing, he tried to ignore the fact that she was staring at all of him. Intently. As if to remember his body later. And then, so quietly, she waded into the water until it was lapping at her waist and stared up at the moon.

He paddled out to meet her, in awe of her confidence as she floated on her back. The moonlight illuminated her body, the water slipping over her physique. He’d never been so envious of a body of water.

He wanted to be the one to lick and explore her coasts. Wrap his currents around her until she was fully in his control. She straightened as he came to her, her hands landing on his shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” He breathed out as she wrapped herself around him.

“Yes,” she crooned, her lips brushing his ear. “You are dreaming, sailor.”

He released a shaky breath when her lips met his, her lips encasing his upper one while his hands found her hips. He released a groan, kissing her with such intensity that it scared him. He had no clue who he was even kissing but it simply felt right.

His body was responding in such a way that made him feel almost embarrassed. She pulled away, her expression confused.

And then his eyes snapped open, a deep breath ripping from his lungs. He wasn’t in the water with her.

But his body was wet as if he had been. His memory was missing a piece between her lips and finding himself back here. A blank space in the puzzle of his mind.

What had happened? Was it a dream? Or did she state that it was so that she could toy with his mind?

The sun was out, igniting the sea in dazzling diamonds that danced on the ripples.

By the crispness in the air and the remnants of fog, he guessed it was early morning. He sat up, searching for her.

She was carrying a woven net full of fresh fish. He frowned. Her spear was at the base of the tree, where it always was. And he realised he hadn’t once seen her use it, and the fish she’d caught never had any wounds to them.

With a sly smile, she nodded her head in greeting, starting to prepare the fish with efficiency and ease. He ate with her, wondering how to bring up their kiss last night. How he’d seemed to startle her with his arousal. He wanted to apologise. He also wanted another taste.

But as always when it came to her, his words were stunted. Lodged in his throat and dying abruptly in a burst bubble. She stood, her hips swaying as she moved before taking a seat beside him.

“When will you tell me who you are?”

“It is the same with all of you men,” she mused, running a hand through his hair. He moaned lightly at the attention, his scalp prickling with delight. “So many questions.”

“Sailors are curious by nature.”

“So I gathered.”

“You, however, are very evasive.”

“You are alone on an island with a pretty girl, what more do you need to know?” Her eyes twinkled at her tease, the sun breaking through the leaves above them and dancing across the planes of her face.

“Very pretty.” He smiled. But I need to know more. A lot more.”

The integrity of his ship and crew plagued him, but she simply smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. His beard was a contrast to his soft features, and her eyes travelled them, taking him in.

“Curiosity is dangerous here.”

“And where, exactly, is here?” He pushed.

But her lips brushed his and his memory faded, his eyes opening only to find the sky dark and the stars abundant in the sky. He blinked, confused. Only a second had passed between then and now and yet… the day was gone. And so was she.

He sat up in a rush, his body feeling alien to him. His eyes scanned the beach, searching for her. And she was there, exiting the water, the sea washing off her shores, down her bare skin, and back to the sand.

But he laid back down, not wanting her to know that he was awake. Whatever she was doing, she was in full control of him and he wanted some semblance of self. To see why she was playing all of these mind tricks on him.

She wandered towards the treeline, a way down from him, and her eyes never found him as he pretended to sleep. Like she was sure he was still sleeping soundly like she always planned.

But he was fully aware of himself now and knew he needed to act. He would find out where he was. If she wasn’t going to give him the answers he sought, then he would find them himself.

He kept his movements quiet, leaving their little respite on the beach and following her. She wasn’t hard to keep track of, following a worn-down path that she knew well. The moonlight lit the way, but he kept to the shadows so as not to raise attention to himself.

She trailed him along for ages. His boots caught on twigs and uneven forest floor but he was determined. And after a while, she slowed, gazing up at the moon before she broke into what looked like a clearing.

He waited for a while, not wanting to get caught before he sauntered forward towards the clearing. Only, it wasn’t was he was expecting. The must have been following the near coast, because he could hear small waves lapping against the rock, and he could smell the intense seawater and feel the pull of it.

It was the cove.

The one from the stories his mother would tell him when he was younger. The one in his locket, right next to his heart.

His chest felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in his body wired with excitement and disbelief.

The cove was every bit beautiful as he’d imagined it. And then some. Bright blue water was ignited by the moonlight. It seemed to hone in on the rock pool that spilled out into the sea. There was no evidence of gold or loot, but the treasure was not that. It was the discovery itself.

Shipwrecks were abundant in the jagged rock formations, the water shallow and glorious. How they hadn’t seen their doom before them, he did not know. Almost like they’d intended to ram right through the island as if it was never there.

The rocks hugged the frame of the cove, the water heaving with wildlife he had never seen before.

And sat upon a rock, was the girl. But he was taken aback, blinking as if he were seeing things through untrue eyes. But she was there, her breasts bare to the ocean while her bottom half was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

A tail.

A milky blue that accentuated the hue of her golden skin, scales so pearlescent it put every diamond to shame. It fanned out at the bottom, much like fish, indented rays that bled into a deeper blue, melting into the tone of the sea.

He began breathing erratically. This was another one of her mind tricks. Or maybe he was going crazy.

Her hands ran through her hair and she began singing that tune again, the melody echoing off the cove and making him stumble.

A rock loosened beneath his boot and her attention snapped up, a short shocked gasp leaving her lips as her eyes met his. She stared for a moment, and for the first time, he saw something in her that he had never seen before. Fear.

“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. “Wait!” He wound down into the cove, as she shifted off the rock, splashing into the water before swimming away. He sprinted into the tide after her, but she was long gone.

He collapsed against the rock that she had previously been perched upon. Her secrecy and her midnight swims. She had been coming here all along, hidden from him. And he had scared her away.

But he wasn’t giving up on her. He would stay put at this cove from his dreams until she returned, if at all. He would never find his own way back to the main beach.

He waited for her for hours. Until his eyes drooped, the moon mimicking as it gave way to the burning sun on the horizon.

It was as it lit the water in dazzling displays of crystallised blue that he awoke, sensing a disturbance on the surface.

He stood, stumbling and wary. He saw her dark hair break the surface of the pool before her dark eyes found his. She didn’t exit the water any further, and he saw the alarm in her gaze towards him.

“I will not hurt you,” he rose his hands, his tone pleading. “You… You surprised me is all.”

She didn’t move an inch. Hoping that in the hours following their run in that, he would have returned to the beach. But he had waited for her.

“I have searched for this island for years. I only wished to see it. No harm will come to you.”

She rose slowly, the water exposing her shoulders. He tried to keep calm, both questioning his sanity and reality itself. She was as fluid as the ocean around her, like two souls entwined.

“Many try to find this island.” She spoke lowly. “All of them mean harm, and do not leave here alive.”

He heard the threat loud and clear, but the softness in her eyes that he’d been seeing for days was no figment of his imagination.

“But you have not killed me.”

“Yet.” She bit out.

“Was it you?” He was shaking, trying to navigate the situation in which it left him alive. “Who called me here?”

“Perhaps you are hearing things only you can hear, sailor.” Her smile was wry and calculated. A feigned innocence she’d do well to mask better.

“Perhaps. Yet here I am. And you have not killed me.”

“Maybe you are already dead. You sealed your fate by coming here.”

The fog behind her wilted away, allowing his eyes to view hundreds of wrecked ships that lined the shallow shores. He wondered if one was his beloved Siren.

“My mother spoke of this place when I was a boy.”

Her mouth curved and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Did she now?”

He frowned, scrambling for the locket clasped around his neck but all he felt was his own damp skin. A phantom sensation of weighted silver whispered against it. His heart dropped to his feet, a wet, bloody puddle that she could sense.

“I… I dreamt of it.”

“You dreamt of me, too.”

He blinked, in a complete daze. His sense of reality was fleeting, melting away with every swell of the sea that kissed his toes.

“That song that you hum. What is it?”

The melody rang out from the waves, and his mind lulled completely.

“Do you like it, sailor?”

“I find it soothing.”

He was trying to soothe her. Let her know that he meant to harm, that his curiosity would not endanger her. No matter how many questions he had and how confused he was. He would only face what was in front of him.

The water around her pulsed as her humming continued, melting in his ears like a gooey potion.

He felt his body being beckoned to the waves, crystal clear and serine. His feet moved before his brain did, carrying him into the current where she waited. He met her there, where her arms wrapped around his neck and she took them further into deeper water.

As if sensing his onslaught of sudden panic, she hushed him, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Trust me.” She whispered. He could feel her… her tail wrap around his legs, fluttering against him. He had been internalising whether what he saw was true or not but now he knew his eyes had not deceived him.

Her breasts pressed flush against him, her hardened nipples brought heat to his cheeks. His arousal was apparent to her and a sly smile crept across her rosy lips in an effort to quell her own feelings.

“Does it not frighten you?”

“What?”

“Me. Like this.” She murmured.

“No. I was… confused at first. But you are beautiful. I have always thought so.”

Never mind the fact that he’d been dreaming of touching her this way for days, the lower half of her was little to deter him. He knew she had a human form of sorts. The fact that she trusted him as her truest self spoke volumes.

She pressed against him further. Until he moaned and his head dropped back on his neck. His expression was one of soft bliss that she wasn’t sure how to decipher.

“I have never touched a man before. Not like this.”

Her words were spoken against the skin of his neck. Wispy and honest. As much truth as he’d ever received from her.

His eyes met hers when she pulled away. Quietly, he asked, “Would you like to?”

“I don’t know how.”

His hands melted down her bare sides, meeting cold scales at her hips. “I can show you.”

“Please.” It was the softest he’d ever seen her. He took one of her delicate hands in his, guiding it down between them. Between his legs, where he was hard and pulsing, and yet, she’d done nothing. But her simple existence was enough to drive him wild.

She gasped as he encouraged her to grip him properly, and she did so gingerly, simply feeling him and exploring him. Far more intensely than she’d done when he was on the beach unconscious.

“That feels nice.” He encouraged.

“This is what you like?” She stared up at him with big brown eyes, and his resolve became a fine glass desperately close to shattering.

“This, and much more.”

“I would like to do that.”

“I would, too.” His hands found her hips again, her smooth stomach, and her gorgeous tits. Gently squeezing and touching.

She was putty in his hands as they wandered and ventured her body. Her scales were sharp and he winced as he sliced his fingertip on one of them.

He lifted his hand from the water, crimson slipping down his hand. He frowned at the wound, his eyes finding hers as her hand grabbed his, bringing his finger to her lips to leave a kiss on it. Her lips were stained red, and the touch of her lips sealed the wound, healing it right before his eyes.

“How many tricks do you possess, siren?”

“More than you will ever know, sailor.”

“Show me your favourite one.”

Her legs appeared, the scales seeming to shed from her skin and slink away into the current around them. He gripped her thighs, lifting her up and encouraging her to wrap them around his waist.

He moaned at the connection before her lips found his, soft and calm as the waves that lapped against the walls of the cove. The familiarity was welcome to him. He’d had her like this before. On the beach nights ago, before his memory became hazy and he awoke on the beach a start.

He guided the kiss, sensing her hesitation and fear. But he held her tight, kissing her softly yet tenderly, allowing her to follow his lead. She did so well, just as lost in him as he was her.

Her lips were soft, plump, and tasted of the sea. He wondered what her shores would taste like, lapping waves and unpredictable currents. An aromatic bliss he longed for.

He ground his clothed cock against her bare core, moaning against her mouth without shame. As if knowing his apparent enjoyment would make her far less apprehensive. He carried her from the waves, laying her flat on the damp sand before leaning over her.

“Your beauty is beyond anything I have ever seen.” He murmured, cupping her cheek and allowing his thumb to brush over her lips. She flicked her tongue out with a small smile before he pushed his digit past them. His brows turned in as she sucked on it.

Her hand reached between them, squeezing his cock with far more confidence than moments ago. He encouraged her higher to pay attention to the sensitive head of his dick, and she was rewarded with a breathless moan that escaped from his soft lips.

“What does it feel like?” She wondered aloud. “To be touched in such a way.”

“It feels… warm. Explosive and tight and blissful.”

Her eyes lulled at the description, and she could no longer ignore the primitive pulse between her legs that she’d never felt before.

“Make me feel it.” She whimpered. The neediness in her tone was all he needed to hear for him to snap.

He crushed his lips against hers, allowing his tongue to meet hers, messy and wet and obscene. The noises they were both making were even more so, and it took all of his willpower to not finish in her hand. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the sand by her head.

“I will be gentle.” He spoke against her temple. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How will it hurt?” She had to ask, wanting him to be as feral and true as he could, whatever it entailed. All she knew was that he felt so fucking good and she wasn’t sure how it could get better or what would even ensue.

“This ends with my cock inside of you, pretty girl. You’ll be tight but I will make sure you’re ready for it. It will not hurt. Not with me.”

She gripped his shoulders in awe, not quite understanding what he meant but her body was flooded with a rush of arousal that he saw darken her eyes. He kissed her again, his hands exploring her chest, toying and squeezing until she was a writhing mess.

He adored her body. Cherished it with lush kisses and his beautiful hands, kissing her tits and her stomach and neck. Alternating where his touch was so no inch of her felt left out. His teeth nipped at her hips and she unintentionally rutted them up towards the touch.

He smiled against her, licking a bold stripe along her abdomen with a hum. His lips went south, and her eyes widened in shock.

“It’s okay, precious. It will feel so good.”

His hands gently coerced her legs to open so he could settle between them. He didn’t dare look anywhere aside from her face as his hands squeezed her delicious thighs, spreading up over her stomach again before veering back down.

And then his eyes settled between her legs and he let out a raspy moan.

“So pretty here, too.” He complimented and a flash of heat warmed her body. “Have you ever played with her?” He asked, his thumb coming to gently sweep over a particularly sensitive spot that made her gasp. “Like this?”

“N—No.”

“No?” He tutted. “That’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how.” She eyed him, crazed for his touch already, her legs shaking.

“I can show you.” He hummed, brushing his thumb over her clit to entice a small whimper from her. “Would you like that? For me to play with her? Make you feel things you’ve never felt before?”

“Please.”

“I like that.” He smiled, using a finger to gather her wetness, going back to her clit to rub small circles. “Say it again.”

“Please…” She whispered. “Please.”

“So polite, pretty girl. Begging me to touch this gorgeous cunt.” He applied more pressure, rewarded with a loud moan from her parted lips. “Oh, you poor thing. You’ve never been touched like this, have you? You’re dripping onto my hand.”

“More,” She gasped out. “please, give me more.”

“I will. Be patient. Need you to be as wet as possible, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She made a high-pitched noise at his words, how gentle and caring and dirty he was. This world he knew so much about, and yet she’d only dipped a toe in.

His fingers worked her slowly, dipping back to her gooey centre to spread her growing wetness to her clit, drawing soft circles as she grew accustomed to having someone touch her this way. She was so wet and creamy that it had his eyes blurry.

“Is that nice?” His voice was dreamy as he watched her shake.

“Very.” She sighed.

“I have barely started.” He smirked at her and she threw her head back as he quickened both his pace and his pressure.

“What more will you do?”

He kissed her thighs, so close to where he wanted to taste. Fuck, she was so sensitive. Her thighs twitched and threatened to clamp around his head were it not for him holding them in place.

“I like that I am the only one who has touched you here. You will only know pleasure to come from me. You have no idea how hard that gets me.”

“Let me feel you again.”

“Not yet, pretty. Be patient, remember?”

“Please—”

He growled, coming up to face her, his forehead pressed against hers as he clenched his teeth. “You touch me, and this will be over before we can get to the best part. Do you understand?”

She fucking melted beneath him, submitting to him, her eyes wide and watering as she stared up at him. She nodded meekly, his hand still at work between her legs.

“That’s a good girl.”

He resumed his former position, nestled between her legs. The sight of her was staggering. If he was homesick before, he wasn’t now.

“Fuck, sweetness. I have to taste you.”

She frowned, snapping her gaze to him. “Taste me? Wh—” She cried out at the feel of his facial hair against her core before his wet tongue came to greet her. She sobbed out in relief at the contact, shaking against him as he gently flicked his tongue on her.

He moaned obscenely loud as he took a full lick of her, gathering her sweet taste on his tongue, and swallowing with a low hum. He sucked firmly on her clit, swirling the tip of his tongue until she was shaking so hard that he had to hold her down.

Her hands reached out, searching for something to hold onto, feeling out of her depth and overwhelmed while he ate her. He grabbed both of her hands with one of his, placing them in his hair.

She gripped his long curls, anchoring herself to him.

He pulled away momentarily to rasp out, “Pull my hair.” Before resuming. She listened, fisting and pulling at his locks as she got fucking ruined.

A warmth built up in her stomach and she felt her body tingle. He pulled back, wiping his face on his anchor tattoo before his eyes met hers.

“I’m going to use my hands now, pretty. Stretch you a little, make sure you can take me.”

She only nodded, unable to breathe, and not sure what he meant. But with how good he was making her feel, she was happy to ride the wave of him.

He circled her clit again, always paying attention to it, while his other fingers ran up her centre, watching her drip for him. He slowly, so so slowly, circled her entrance with a lone finger, pushing in.

She gasped, her spine straightening.

“Shh, pretty girl. Relax for me.”

She tried but felt so tightly wound from his touch that as he gave her his finger, she could have exploded. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was some form of a foreign sensation there.

“Is that okay?” He checked in. She nodded and hummed, jaw dropping when he withdrew his finger just to pump it in again. “And this? Is this okay?”

He watched her expression, a cocky and all too knowing grin gracing his face. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Feels nice in your tight little cunt.”

His mouth was filthy, only adding to her heaping arousal. She was so over her own head and any and every thought revolved around him and what he was doing to her body.

He returned his mouth to her clit, sucking, flicking, biting. Obsessed with how she felt and tasted. Her reactions were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Pure bliss gracing angelic features, moans, and hums sounding from her throat, sounding much like that tune that was often carried in the wind when she was near.

Adding another finger once she was saturated, he fucked her with them. Slow yet deep, scissoring them to get her used to the stretch. He knew she’d struggle to take him, but the way she was writhing for him made him think she’d be delirious once she’d gotten used to his cock.

“That’s it,” he spoke against her. “My pretty girl is so wet. Do you like my fingers? Hm?” She nodded, feeling insane. “You do, yeah.” He drawled. “Wait until you get my cock, pretty girl. You’ll be fucking dripping.”

She moaned loudly, so loud that it echoed off of the cliffs encasing them. He took her harder, biting her clit harshly. She felt as if she were about to unravel, a completely unnerving sensation as she melted into his touch more and more.

He worked her harder and faster, the muscles in his arms flexed as if sculpted and molded from marble. The sight alone had her struggling to take a breath in. She watched him command her body in a way that she didn’t know was possible, his mouth paying full attention to her clit whilst his fingers destroyed her from the inside out.

Her body thrummed as if coming to life. Burning hot, with searing blood in the currents of her veins. She tightened up, tensing, her body on the verge of something she didn’t know how to gauge.

“What’s happening—”

“Shh, pretty girl, it’s okay. This is what your body wants, let it happen.”

She cried out sharply, her voice a chorus of golden bells that made his ears ring with desire. She exploded around his fingers, into his mouth, all over his chest. He moaned along with her, equally as turned on.

He came over to her, kissing up her body on the way. “How did that feel?”

“Incredible,” she gasped, “I’ve never… felt that before.”

No words had ever been sweeter to him. He kissed her, allowing her to taste her orgasm on his lips and tongue. She hummed, allowing her leg to hitch up onto his hip, drawing him closer.

He rutted his cock against her, her wetness seeping through the thin material of his drawers.

“Can I touch you now?”

He sighed against her mouth. “Yes, pretty girl.”

She mewled, reaching down to cup him. He moaned, kneeling to remove his drawers. She couldn’t hide her reaction to the sheer beauty of him. She’d never seen a man like this before and didn’t even know such a sight was possible. His body was toned, tight, with broad shoulders and a nipped-in waist.

His tattoos were forms of art, decorating his beautiful body. From the ferns on his hips to that fucking tailed woman on his arm. He was truly faced with his fate.

She traced a shaking hand along his defined stomach, his abs trembling beneath her touch. He allowed her to touch him, enjoying the feel of her delicate hands on him.

“That’s it, sweetness. Take your time.” His voice was so deep she felt it in her clit. She hummed out a soft noise.

“How do you like to be touched, sailor?”

He dropped his head back on his neck with a moan before focusing back on her, her eyes alive with intrigue and a little bit of fear.

“Like this,” He guided her hand to his bare cock, and she gasped at how hard and scorching hot he was.

“It’s… you’re so big.”

“You can handle it, sweetness.”

He pulsed in her palm as he showed her how to touch him, moving her hand back and forth. He allowed a string of saliva to fall downwards onto his length.

The added moisture made him whine, thrusting his hips into her hand.

“What else?”

“Here.” He grabbed her spare hand, taking it to his balls, and showing her how to touch them. He whimpered as she massaged them, gauging his reaction as to how hard to do so.

He cursed loudly as she sped up her hand, bowing over her to kiss her deeply, messy and needy. His tongue met hers in a frenzy.

“Use your mouth, sweetness. Need to feel you gag around me.”

“H—How?”

She had heard of no such thing, but how he had used his mouth on her, she knew it had been nothing short of magical.

He helped her stand, taking her over to the flattened rock where she had been resting before. “On your back.” He ordered, his voice low and rumbling with demand.

She did as she was told, happy to let him guide her. She was soon on her back, the rock smooth and familiar to her. One she’d spent hours on, basking in the sun, memorising tunes, and counting the pretty shells she’d scored from blue depths.

He groaned at the sight; her hair fanned out around her, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm, and her legs pressed together to curb her arousal for him. He walked around until he was looking down at her face.

Taking a solid step forward, he cupped her throat, the mermaid flexing against his skin. Muscles rippling beneath its inked scales.

And then the siren before him, mystical and eerie. Dangerous and yet… she was here on her back for him, waiting for his next command.

“Grab it.” He ordered, stepping closer. Her hand wrapped around his cock, expertly massaging and touching. His jaw dropped as she smiled, obsessed with how he felt.

“Does every man look like this?”

“No one is this lucky.” He smirked. She giggled at his jest, his confidence unmatched. “Open your mouth, siren. Let me see where I’m going to fuck you.”

She made a small sound, almost like a helpless animal, and dropped her jaw.

“Obedient little thing. Stick out your tongue.” She obeyed. “Yeah, that’s it. There we go.”

He moved forward until his cock, still held in her hand, was in her face. She eyed it, intimidated and lost.

“Lick it.” He said softly.

“Where?”

He guided his tip towards her, “Right there.”

She gave him a single, small lick. Timid and shy. But the fucking noise he made had her legs trembling with desire.

“Take your time.” He spoke gently as her mouth explored him, getting used to his sheer size, memorising each vein. Licking his entirety with pleased little hums.

“Wrap your lips around it—fuck, just like that.”

She took his head past her lips and his whole body trembled. He pushed her hair from her face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view.

He encouraged her hand to play with what she couldn’t yet fit in her mouth.

He cupped her cheek, holding her still. “I’m going make you take it, okay? Tap my leg if you need a breath.”

She nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Okay. Yes.”

He held onto the sides of her neck, slowly working his cock deep into her mouth, further and further until he could feel her throat constrict around him. She gagged at the assault and he pulled back.

“Is that—”

“Don’t stop.” She rasped and he groaned at how eager she was.

He fucked her throat, slow and steady even though his whole body was trembling. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?”

She whined around his length, her eyes watering, streams falling down her temples. But she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him to feel the pleasure that he made her feel. She was ravenous for it, to hear his blissed-out noises and see what happened when he met his end. Would it be like hers? Stronger? Wetter?

“Fuck,” He whined as she let him take full control and use her throat. To think she had never experienced anything remotely close to this, and here she was, being so good for him and so open and willing. Maybe he really was dreaming.

Her hands reached out, one bracing on his muscled thigh, right over the inked tiger. The other went to his balls, heavy and warm in her palm as she played with them just as he showed her.

“That’s so good, little girl.”

She gagged at the praise, stumbling before her jaw clamped, her teeth nipping around his shaft. He hissed, pulling back.

She gasped, “I’m sorry. I hurt you, I—”

“No, pretty girl. Don’t be sorry.” He cupped her cheek, kissing her swollen lips, licking away salty tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be gentle with me. Do it again.”

“But—”

He gripped her neck. Not tight, but enough to show her who was in charge. The sun burnt through the fog, igniting their display in honey gold and diluted berry. He kissed her. Too far gone.

“Bite me. Hit me. Do whatever you want to me.”

Her eyes darkened, the calmness leaving her face. There was nothing but pure danger there now. As turned on as he was, he felt fearful at the expression. She pushed him back, too hard, and he stumbled onto his back, flopping onto the sand. Helpless before she straddled him, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

She bit his lip, soft at first, but then he let out a sharp yelp when she bit down with force enough to make him bleed. He growled, feeling the warm rush of it seep down his chin. She lapped it up, mewling and grinding her wet cunt against his stomach.

“You are fucking insane.” He gaped, his shock melting into laughter when she smiled manically at him, blood dripping from her mouth.

She allowed his blood to trickle back into his face as she leaned over him.

“What was it you said, sailor? Do whatever I want to you?”

“Anything you want.” He affirmed as soft waves lapped at the back of his head.

The curve of her lips tilted up, her hand coming up to lovingly cup his cheek. So gentle and tender. His heart careened in his chest before her hand abruptly flew up to his forehead, pushing it down until his head was submerged in the salty waves.

He gasped on instinct, the water invading his lungs with a sharp burn. His hands clawed at her wrist but the currents were her home. She held the power here.

Anything you want.

She allowed him to breathe, gasping and blubbering. He glared at her, his chest heaving.

“You little—”

She tilted her head, that fucking tune melting in his ears. Her other hand reached back, gripping his cock in a tight fist. He moaned loudly, whatever insult was lost in the ocean at his back.

“You like that, don’t you?” She threw his words back at him and he whimpered, nodding. His lip stung, the salt water invading the hurt.

“Yes.”

“Mmm.” She hummed before pushing his head back under the waves. Her hand fucked his throbbing dick with such a might he feared he was going to finish all over himself. His chest burned with the lack of air, but he welcomed the panic, and allowed it to fuel how fucking good she felt.

She let him catch his breath, feeling kind as she quickened the pace of her hand, paying extra attention to just the tip of him with the pad of her thumb.

“Fucking filthy g—”

And he was under again, his head submerged while he writhed underneath her. He could feel how insanely wet she was, near on dripping onto his skin, and his hips ground up into her hand, unashamed.

She moved to his side, letting him breathe before her mouth was on his dick again, licking and biting and sucking. Not letting his balls feel left out, even biting harshly into his hips until he was bleeding there, too.

He was dunked under the water for longer and longer each time, the fear making his body shake, self-preservation kicking in while his orgasm loomed right behind it.

She pulled away from his length, moving to straddle his chest, her hands encasing his neck.

“You liked that? The burning in your chest?”

God, if she drowned him he’d probably come at the same time. He groaned at the prospect.

“Let me taste her again.” He gripped her hips, trying to move her up. “Take a seat.” He gestured to his face. “Right here.”

She could feel her body thrum with need all over again, dripping down her thighs at the pleasure she’d been able to give him. She moved up, getting comfortable as she sat on his face. She whimpered at the feel of his facial hair, his beard thick against her.

His tongue flicked out, teasing and slow before she fully collapsed down onto him, giving him no choice but to completely devour her. The water encased him again, and he tasted her and the waves together.

She let him breathe every now and again, but he didn’t stop eating her. He’d been starving for a taste this euphoric all of his life and he was getting fucking drunk off of it.

Her second orgasm was far more intense than the first. Maybe it was because she knew not to be afraid of it. Maybe it was because the man giving it to her was fighting to breathe while he took care of her.

It was a burst of white light that brought shame to the sunrise around them. She cried and sobbed and whined, shaking, falling forward at the intensity of her pleasure. It was so wet. A stream of liquid erupted from her core, drenching him. He drank it, his beard  saturated in her orgasm.

It flipped something inside of him. Some feral, animalistic need. He grabbed her, placing her on her back, the shore lapping at her body before his tongue went to join it.

He kissed her, tasting himself, her, the sea, and his blood between them.

“I want it inside,” she whispered as she gripped his aching cock. “Just like you said.”

“Let me calm down, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, kissing her again, messily whilst his hips rutted up into her hand.

“I want it to hurt.” Her eyes were full of desire.

His head fell into her neck, “Shh.”

“Please… please, I need to feel it.”

“Stop talking. You have to s—stop talking.”

“I need it inside—”

“Shut up.” He growled, taking her hand away from him and pinning it next to her head. “Shut up, pretty girl, please.”

His hand ventured south between her folds, feeling how wet she was before he gave her two fingers, hooking them up against a spot that had her spine turning into jelly.

“You have to be ready.”

“Please, I’m wet. I’m wet. Just give it to me. Stretch me. I don’t care if it hurts.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved his fingers faster. “One more time. One more time and I’ll give you my cock.” He clenched his teeth as he worked harder. “I’m so big, sweetness, drench me again so I’ll fit.”

She cried out, gripping his wrists with both of her hands. She thrashed beneath him as he fucking annihilated her.

“Good girl.” He praised her as she exploded around his fingers. “Do as you’re told, there we go.”

She sobbed, struggling to take in oxygen as she writhed in pleasure. He muttered soft praise and words of encouragement, telling her how pretty she was, how ethereal, how good she felt milking his fingers.

“I can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock, pretty. Want you to cream all over me until I say you’ve had enough.”

“Please give it to me now.” She begged, near tears.

“Yeah, beg for my cock, precious girl.”

“I didn’t know I could feel like this. I need it, please. Please let me have it.”

“Oh, look at you. Cock drunk before you’ve even taken it.”

“Please.”

“Are you wet enough?” He mused, his fingers still exploring, knowing very well how much she was dripping. “Do you think you can take this big cock? Hm?”

“I promise.”

“You promise? You’re such a sweet girl for me.” He kissed her, lifting her legs up to hug around his waist. “I’ll go slow, okay? You don’t have to do a single thing. Just lay back and take it.”

“Okay, sailor.”

He groaned at the nickname, reaching between them to hold his cock, running it against her centre to gather her dripping wetness, moaning at the feel of it. He watched her face as he gently pressed in, swallowing her gasp as she gripped his shoulders.

Yes, she was obscenely wet, but the sting was still there. Sharp yet thrilling. And he had barely done a thing. He pushed in further, angling one of her legs up higher so she was able to take it easier. He was about halfway in now, his head foggy at how tight she was.

She hissed. “Oww.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, I know it hurts. You’re doing so well. Good girl. You’re so tight, so fucking wet.”

He didn’t move his hips, didn’t give her any more of his length until she was ready. Mewling and whining for more.

“You’re too big.” Fuck the way she was looking at him was driving him crazy. Awe and fear at the same time.

“You can handle it, precious. You promised.”

“I promised.” She nodded, her face out of it, brows turned up and her jaw dropped.

“That’s right. I’m going to feed you my cock until you can take it all. I know it’s big but you can do it.”

She whined, wiggling beneath him in discomfort as he gave her a little more. He was finally able to press fully inside of her, moaning as her walls rippled around him.

“How does it feel?” He asked her, his chest heaving.

“Full. Complete. It’s starting to hurt less.”

“Fuck, that’s… good. That’s so good.”

“Can you please move? Just a little bit?”

“Y—Yeah, I can move.”

He retracted all the way until only his tip was nestled inside of her before slowly rolling his hips forward. They moaned in unison, and her nails clawed at his skin.

“Faster.”

“Faster? You like when it hurts?”

She clenched her teeth together as he pumped into her. “Yes. Oh, right there.”

“What a good girl. Taking my dick even though it hurts. Are you going to cry?”

“More, please.” She begged, enjoying the dulling pain. The bite of it lessened, his eyes as deep as her ocean she frequented. They sparkled, alight in the sun as it beamed on them.

Tears of pleasure and pain fell from her brown eyes as he took her harder, screwing into her with sheer power, though his pace was still controlled.

“Fuck. This pussy isn’t used to being used like this, hm? Clenching around me like you won’t let me go. I’ll stay inside you for as long as you want, pretty girl. This is my cunt now.”

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back, the waves lapping at her hair. The way in which he spoke was driving her wild. His body was ensuring insane euphoria, and his words only added to it. Clearly well-versed in how to please a woman and it made her seethe at the idea of him with anyone else.

“Stop squeezing me like that, you’ll make me come.”

“I can’t help it.” She whimpered.

His expression softened. “Aw, does my cock just feel too good? Are you going to get wet on it? Yeah? Want to feel you explode on me. Give it to me.”

“I can’t yet.” She was too overwhelmed, still trying to get accustomed to the feel of him.

“Oh, you can’t? Is that what you think?” He stared down at her, his hips snapping fiercely against her. “Think again.” And his hand reached down, rubbing sweet circles on her clit. She cried out, her nails ripping into his skin so deep that she drew a worrying amount of blood.

“That’s what I want. Make me bleed while you cream all over me. Fucking crazy little girl.”

She stared up at him, her eyes swarming with terror. He was taking her mind and body to places she didn’t understand. Using words she didn’t know how to grasp. But she felt like she was on fire. His cock was so deep and so big while his hand played that sensitive area just above where they were connected.

“You’re about to… God, I can feel it.” He spat out, his eyes squinting. “So fucking tight around me.” She was so wet, too. The sounds that came from between them were making his ears ring.

“Please don’t stop.” She begged. “I want it again, so so bad.”

“You want me to make it hurt again?”

“Please!”

“Nasty fucking—” He grunted, his arm straightening as he leaned over her, fucking her harder until she was crying out in pain. But she liked it. Liked the sharpness of it. How he was massaging a special spot inside of her that was making her feel lightheaded.

His hand stayed playing with her clit, and he spat down onto his fingers to get her even wetter. The dirty sight had her screaming, exploding messily around his cock that he had to fight to stay embedded inside of her.

“That’s my girl. Precious little thing. You’re addicted to this, aren’t you? Can’t stop fucking coming.”

She nodded, feeling crazed out of her mind. He pulled away from her, flipping her onto the rock, bending her over the smooth obsidian. He spread her legs, tucking his throbbing cock back into her snug walls.

“Mmm. So fucking wet, gushing on my dick like a whore. You were made to take me.”

She clawed at the rock, begging for mercy. His hips hit her ass at every powerful thrust, his hands digging into her sides so hard she knew that it would bruise. The idea of having any sort of physical reminder from this interaction had her shaking.

“Harder, sailor.”

His hand grabbed her hair in a fist, pulling her up until her back was pressed to his chest.

“Captain.” He spat out. “You’ll refer to me as captain.”

“Yes, captain.” She rasped.

“Good girl.” He praised, biting into her shoulder. “Say it again.”

“Take me harder, captain. Make me cry.”

He moaned, fucking her hard and fast, her ass reddening from the force of his drive. The pain was almost overwhelming, her body wanting to satiate the pain but wanting to take him even more.

He could feel her body becoming lax as his cock massaged that spot inside of her, the hurt of his size waning as she completely melted around him. A wet, hot furnace welded together just for him.

Her skin almost glowed gold, and it was then that he realised that she had been the treasure all along.

He moaned softly, his body coming to cocoon hers against the rock. His pace slowed down, deliberate and delicate. She gasped at the roll of his cock inside her, how much more intimate it felt now that he was holding her.

“Pretty girl,” His lips found a sweet spot right below her ear. “So glad I found you.”

She stifled a whimper as he took her, whispering little sentiments in her ear that made her legs tremble. How he’d spent all of his life searching for something, riding vicious tides and sailing dangerous winds. He’d found gold, priceless treasures, and uncharted waters.

But nothing could have prepared him for how fulfilled he felt at this moment. Wrapped up in a beautiful body that no one had the privilege to map out and explore.

Wanting to see her face, to see those deep eyes and plump lips, he placed her on her back. His touch was so gentle that it didn’t feel real. Like he was a phantom of dreams he’d yet to have.

He stepped forward between her spread legs, always his good girl. Her hand wrapped around his cock, which was saturated in her orgasms, and guided him back to her wet haven. He moaned loudly as her walls squeezed around him, delighted to have him within her body once more.

She whined loudly, “Don’t ever stop.”

“I won’t, precious girl.”

She was near tears as he began to slowly fuck into her, his chest pressed tightly against hers.

“Do you promise?”

“Until my last breath.”

She threw her head back, and he took the opportunity to suck and nibble and kiss the skin, a soft sheen of sweat on his tastebuds as his cock throbbed inside of her.

God, she felt insane. Like her body had been immersed in a potion specifically aimed to make him crazy. He stopped fucking her, taking her in with his lust-speckled eyes. Her hips began moving at their own accord, screwing into him mindlessly, searching for release again.

He growled, holding his hands behind his head. His muscles flexed at the action, inked skin rippling.

“Is this what you wanted when you found me washed up on the beach? To fuck yourself on my big cock?”

“I don’t know, captain.” She cried. “I saw you and just knew I had to save you.”

“Thank you, pretty girl. Thank you for saving me.” He leaned down, fingers splayed across her jaw as he kissed her messily.

She made a restless noise. “Take me again.”

“How do you want it?” He asked against her lips.

“Fast.”

“Anything else?”

“I like when you touch me.”

“You like it when I touch your pretty little clit?”

“Please touch it.”

“I will, I’ll never leave her out. I’ll rub your clit while my cock destroys you until you’re gushing all over me.”

“Will you… feel like I do, too? Can you?” Her cheeks heated at the question, hating that she knew absolutely nothing about any of this.

“Yes, I’ll come. I’m going to come so deep inside of my girl. That’s what she wants, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She whined.

“You’ve turned cock dumb, haven’t you? Just aching to taste my cum off my cock after I’ve destroyed you with it.”

“Fuck, please! Just fuck me, make yourself come. Please.”

“Do you want me to use you? Hm? Nothing but a little fuck hole for me? Is that right?”

“Yeah.” She gasped, sobbing.

“You give me one more. One more and I’ll fill you up with my cum.”

“I can’t!”

“Does it hurt?”

It was starting to hurt again, from the intrusion of his heavy thrusts and how often he’d played with her.

“Yes, captain.”

“And if I rub this poor little clit better?” He reached between them, his thumb pressed to her clit to rub firm circles. “How’s that?

“So good.” The words were barely registrable beneath her moans.

“So good,” He breathed out. “My good girl.”

“Yours.”

The sentiment ripped through him like a fierce wind that almost knocked him off of his feet. Yours.

He took her as hard as he possibly could, his chest burning at the exertion. He spat on her clit, though she hardly needed the extra moisture. He flicked, pinched, and rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves until she was a crying, shaking mess that exploded forcefully around his cock.

“Fuck, I love that. Messy girl, soaking me like that. So fucking pretty.”

She clawed at his chest, not caring when he hissed and winced at the sharp pain. She knew he liked it. Her cunt trembled relentlessly around him, drawing his own orgasm closer and closer.

“I want it.” She whined as he hugged himself to her, arms wrapped around her to keep her where he wanted.

“You want my cum?” He moaned in her ear, her body his own heaven. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up with it. Are you gonna take it? Yeah?”

“I’ll take it!”

“All of it? Do you promise?”

“I—I promise, captain.”

“Gonna make you keep it inside of you.”

“Oh, fuck—“

He didn’t know much of how her body worked but hoped that leaving part of his own would become something more. Any sense of permanency on this fucking island was welcomed, especially if it was with her.

“Will you let me stay here? With you?”

“I’d never let you leave anyway, sailor.”

Days ago such words would have him cowering in fear. But hearing them now… it did unspeakable things to him. Spurred his orgasm from a soft tingle to a crackling fire.

“I’ll stay.” He whimpered against her lips. “Fuck you right here until I’m drowning in you. Make you take my cum and keep it inside of you until I’m hard again.” He grunted, fucking her so hard that his teeth were vibrating. “You like that? You want to keep my spent dick inside of you until I’m ready to fuck you again?”

She cried out at the sheer power behind his driving thrusts, his cock achingly hard inside of her, pulsing and throbbing as he neared his end.

“Give it to me, captain. Please let me have your cum.”

Her voice was soft, wispy dreams sent gliding over foggy waters.

He burst inside of her with a loud moan, one that careened in soft echoes around the cove. She gasped at the feel of his cum coating her used walls, her cunt rippling at the sensation. He was beautiful as it was, let alone when he was coming.

His expression was one of undiluted bliss, though he almost looked as if he were in pain. His soft lips parted to allow her the view of his two front teeth, his brow furrowed, sweat dripping from his temples in gentle beads.

She cupped his cheek, her heart breaking at what he wished he had been promised.

His eyes found hers as he came down, staying deep inside of her, his hands flexing against her sides.

Her skin felt cold, he noticed. Far more icy than what he’d felt before. Abnormally so.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, his voice not sounding like his own. His chest burned as if the air had been ripped from them, abruptly and harshly. He coughed, unable to find a source of oxygen even though he was here… on the beach.

He blinked, the sun disappearing. It was all grey, a deep haze as his eyes struggled to adjust. The waves lapped at his body as the tied came in, swarming at his skin like it was magnetised to him.

“Yes, sailor. You are.” Her voice. Cold and evil. The tune pierced through her words. He opened his eyes and the sting in them was immense. He screamed in pain, only for water to invade his mouth and nose, filling his lungs.

The cove was stripped away, in its place a deeply submerged trench. One that he had been somehow forged into.

And her. His siren. Her eyes dark pits, her scales shimmering with divine wickedness. Her tail swirling through currents she knew how to hold. He was drowning. He had drowned. He could not tell what was real, only that his body was no longer part of him.

Her hand reached out to him, touching his forehead as she had on the beach.

And he saw flashes. Flashes of the cove shrouded in gold. Flashes of her body and his body. Their joining. Flashes of death and suffering. Flashes of his ship and an angry storm that took it.

He had not left his ship.

He had gone down with it.

***

taglist :

@keepdrivingkisses @lolyouallsuck @victoria-styles @harrysonlylover

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Sleep Little Angel, Sleep

Pairings: Castiel x Winchester!teen!reader

Imagine: you can’t sleep but Castiel is there to help

Warnings: angst?, sleep deprivation, mention of depression, mention of possession by a demon (not really), I think there’s one mention of the f-word, idk what else, mention of y/n if that’s a warning I have no clue if I’m honest

A/N just a short comfort fic for all you sleep deprived supernatural fans out there *cough* me *cough*, writing this actually helped me sleep so + to that I guess, bc this is kinda how it have been for me lately except I don’t have a Castiel to help me sleep. Which is why I haven’t posted/written anything in a while :) anyway hope you guys like it bc idk really and I hope you all have a good sleep tonight <3

As usual I put it down as teen reader but the reader can be older and Cas might be a bit OOC

You layed in bed, staring up at the ceiling, but at the same time nothing in particular. The sound of silence filled your ears and the occasional cars that drove past outside the window was a refreshing sound. Your tired eyes dropped but you couldn’t in any way sleep. It was for some unknown reason impossible.

For once your head was empty of thoughts. Nothing ran through your head. You didn’t have the constant race between hundreds of thoughts competing to be heard the most. Everything was silent.

The other people in the bunker were quiet, not even a sound from your brothers was heard, and they often stayed up longer than you did. It was too quiet. The cars only came one by one each hour or so in the unhealthy times of the night.

Sometimes you thought you were possessed by some demon making you feel this way, but you were pretty sure a demon possessing you would be more fun than the boredom of the night was giving you.

The tiredness that went through your whole body did nothing to help. You were exhausted, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. It wasn’t intentional, you’d tried to sleep many times, but nothing seemed to ever work. So instead you continued to stare up at your sealing, there wasn’t much else to do at this time anyway.

It took another three hours, before you completely gave up. Turning on your side you checked the watch. Two in the morning. You didn’t entirely know how you could function by now, you hadn’t slept in three days, except for the one nap you accidentally took in the car while Dean drove to the store to pick up some pie if you remembered correctly. But that was days ago, maybe it had been more than three days ago, you didn’t quite know. The only thing you knew was that you were bored to death, sleep deprived and probably in one of your depressive episodes. But you could never be sure about the depression, it always lingered around the corner waiting to strike you down.

You wanted to go up and maybe take a night snack but it would wake your brothers up and you knew it wouldn’t help either. So you stayed in your laying position, still staring at the apparently interesting sealing. You noticed some new shapes that you swore hadn’t been there before, but maybe you notice more things the more you watch something. It was like when you watched a movie for the hundredth time and noticed something new. Except it would be more exciting to watch a movie than your sealing.

A few hours later, or maybe it was just a few minutes a flapping of wings was heard. Your eyes were still unmovable from tracing every dent and dusted corners of your sealing. It was most probably an angel who’d appeared in your room, and you couldn’t care less of who, if you were honest, maybe you could get an excuse to get up and do something exciting. However it turned out to be your favorite angel.

“Y/N, you need to sleep” Castiel’s voice rang out making you look at him, it was strange to hear something break the silence. Your irritated eyes were a bit glossy from not sleeping and Castiel noticed that the dark bags under your eyes were more prominent than ever. He and your brothers knew of your problem with sleeping but it seemed you never tried to get help from them, or to even get some of those sleeping pills. You’d always shrug it off saying you were fine, that you weren’t tired, or for those occasional days you told them you were tired they’d make sure you slept in the car, but those rarely happened anymore. Castiel had sensed your tiredness, and when he’d have to save you from a vampire he knew he needed to help you, but you had shut him out. The angel didn’t want to force you to sleep but if that was what it took to make sure you were sleeping and taking care of yourself he would.

“I know Cas, I just, I can’t” you paused before your voice cracked a bit at your next words “I’m so fucking tired Cas, I, I don’t know what to do”

Castiel walked closer to your bed until he was right next to it. A bit uncharacteristically of him he bent down and tilted his head while he took in your appearance from a closer view. “Let me help you” his blue eyes stared into yours and you closed your eyes for a second, which caused a new wave of tiredness to crash through you.

“Will you stay here” why you asked you weren’t quite sure, but you did anyway and got a nod from your favorite angel. You knew what he meant by helping you. You’d seen him do it to Dean a lot of times, but you had never brought yourself to ask Cas to do it on you. It felt strange and wrong, but at the moment you didn’t care, you were too exhausted. Sleep would be your only release and nothing in you seemed to be willing to give it to you. Maybe that’s why you wanted him to stay, so that he could protect you when you were in a deep sleep that you wouldn’t wake up from in a while. So that he could wake you if anything went wrong.

“I will stay, I promise, I’ll be right beside you when you wake up” with that you gave him a nod and he gently put two of his fingers on your forehead. It didn’t take long for sleep to take over you. Exhaustion and tiredness took over your whole being in one sweep and your eyes closed. You could finally get your release from the life you lived. You could finally rest for a while, You would for once not be exhausted when you woke up.

However before you fell asleep you heard Castiel softly murmur in a whisper “Sleep little angel for nothing will come your way tonight, sleep and dream of sweet dreams”

True to his word Castiel stayed by your side, he made sure no nightmares came your way, and you slept peacefully for the first time in a while. You slept for the first time in a while, and Cas woved he wouldn’t let it go further than this again. He would protect his baby angel if it so was the last thing he did, and to make sure you slept was only one part of it.

[driftingmoonmenace]

Ok ok ok I'm gonna just dump all my DCA OC thoughts/info in a post cause I'm shy with rambling about them individually with ppl atm 👉👈💦

BUT OK SO I've been like rattling this idea around in my brain for quite a while! At first I just had Paradox and he was just in his own little AU world thing, but then I decided to just take all my DCA ocs and shove them into a world together and they just work at different Pizzaplexs and stuff.

Paradox's info is still pretty much the same! He's tired of being treated badly by adults and acting out by retaliating with pranks and it's getting on Fazco's last nerve. So they hired a handler to keep him in check.

I got my other Eclipse model, Equinox, he's from a defunct Pizzaplex, there's a lot that went into it closing down, but before he could be decommissioned like the rest, he managed to escape and is 'on the run'. He travels cross-country on a motorcycle with a mission to help other animatronics get out from under Fazco. He totally leans into the 'badboy' persona and has modified himself over time to look how he wants to.

And then there's Umbra! He's a Moon model that Equinox picked up on his travels, and is his journey partner! Umbra was also a Daycare Attendant and had a Sun counterpart, though unfortunately he was officially decommissioned before Umbra could do anything. It's a sensitive subject for him and he's completely on-board with Equinox's plan to save as many animatronics as they can because of it, and maybe take Fazco down too. Umbra is super smart, and a little shy. He tries to make up the plans, but half the time Equinox goes jumping into potential danger before he can even finish getting his thoughts out. It exasperates him, but Equinox is 'totally cool' to him and man he wishes he could be like that and boy he's kinda hot too oh wait wait wait keep it together!

Lumi and Nova are Daycare Attendants who were separated and updated as part of a rebranding for their pizzaplex! Though mysteriously after a year, Nova has gone missing and Lumi has no idea where he's gone. Every night Lumi tries to find clues and access computers to try to find out what happened to him along with searching the pizzaplex from top to bottom. (Nova is actually alive but was moved to a completely separate pizzaplex where Fazco figured he'd 'fit in' better and hasn't made up their mind if they want to keep Lumi alone or build another Sun counterpart for him.)

Then I got Sol and Lune, they're mini Sun and Moon DCA models, and were made more so to be helpers for human daycare employees rather than actual DCAs. They were made as a test run in comparison to regular DCA models and it was found that the regular DCAs were more popular with the kids than the mini versions, so now they don't come out too often and are kept basically in a storage closet. They're only let out when a certain threshold amount of kids is met and the human employees need help or for events. Sol is fed up with being a 'toy stuffed in a closet' and is making plans to escape. Lune tries to be a voice of reason but Sol is pretty hard-headed.

Last but not least I got my pink DCA, Astra! I still don't know much about them, but I think she'd be the next DCA model that Equinox and Umbra find. She's got wings, though she can't fly, and I think she's a beta model that isn't released to the public. They're not quite a Sun model but close to it, not sure how to describe it really! Super sweet, upbeat, and cutesy but they're ready to throw hands and they pack quite the punch for being so petite!

I also may have more DCA OCs knocking around in my brain as vague ideas atm that eventually will get thrown into this hot mess of a mix later...but uh YEAH!

Eventually everything just goes to shit with Fazco and all my OCs end up in a group together but I haven't figured out everything yet. There's a plot in there somewhere! *vague hand gestures*

[robinthisbank]

Okay, so hi!! I’m kinda new to this fandom and I have a lot of ideas for so many characters but nobody will listen to me 😭

But I have an email idea, I like to think it’s realistic. Basically, I had this small HC where majority of the members of 411, most if not all are in some form of manipulative. Just hear me out — not manipulative as people (like in their day to day lives) but more over, manipulative when it comes to missions and interrogations. And I think Soap is by far the most manipulative.

Like just hear me out; He’s smart, knows his way around people and things, got Ghost THE Ghost to actually open up to him, you’re gonna tell me he doenst know a thing or two about psychology?

Lemme just give you a scenario of how I think Soap’s manipulation plays out: It’s a scenario of what if Ghost and Soap both got taken captive during a mission?

Highly unlikely, but just stay with me here.

If both of them get kidnapped, Ghost is the main one looking for a way out. Resisting, keeping his mouth shut, all that. Like defiance on MAX, not even so much of a wince when they decide physical torture. Like basically spitting in the captor’s faces but not actually spitting in their face. Ghost, I think, is the least manipulative. Not in terms of psychologically. Physically, perhaps.

While Soap is taking advantage of the situation and fucking with everyone psychologically. And I mean FUCKING WITH THEM. (I actually had a small HC that Soap’s brain matured faster than kids his age and he was really manipulative as a child/teen ((he learned it from watching his parents)) and he often uses those same skills a lot on missions.)

I think Soap grew and realized the shit he used to do was absolutely horrible, but will utilize those same skills for the greater good of his comrades.

And what I mean by fucking with everyone, say one of the captors has something against the military because their brother died there, an accident involving a bomb. Soap would proceed to make up the most EXTREMELY believable lie on the spot on how he was involved and even KILLED the guy himself because he made up for such target practice. And would literally have the most conniving smile when he gets a weapon pointed at him, knowing full well they won’t kill him or Ghost.

Like there would be three captors, or people involved with the knocking Ghost and Soap out and taking them to the base. For each captor, Soap would tell a lie about their past to them and watch them absolutely loose their shit about it because bursting out laughing and saying “I’m just kidding! Not a single word was true :D”

Like I think they would be so fucking believable GHOST HIMSELF would be believing them and getting equally as frustrated when it was a lie 💀

And even more frustrated when after they left, Soap tells him that he never had a plan and just was winging it. Like those lies weren’t pre planned, they were purely improv and Soap had no clue where he was going with them.

Soap’s the type to lie about certain events in his life to maybe sympathize with victims or captors to get to them to talk. And the lies can be so fucking believable, Soap will say them with all the conviction he has, you’d believe he was true. Until you fact check and realize “Oh no there’s no way that could’ve happened”.

And how Ghost felt, It would be a mix of “why tf am I in love with you again?” and “you could convince me that you’re my therapist and I’ve been in a mental hospital all this time, and everything was in my head, and I would whole heartedly believe you and that terrifies me” along with “god, I love you. never change, Johnny. never change.”

Anyway, thanks for listening, ignore this if you want and adios ^^

See you understand me. Soap being a fucking liar is everything to me. Manipulative little asshole. Does he get physically violent? Yes, in fact he clearly enjoys some level of destruction (for example: Looking at an oil rig exploding as if it were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen). But also, he just lies. Gaslights, even. Ghost simultaneously hates it and thinks about proposing every time Soap does it

[snowfallenapocalypse]

Howdy Slay the Princess friends! I wanted to show off my Voices designs, they’re still very likely to change cause I’m still not quite happy with all of them, but I hope you enjoy them! :3c

Explanations and a few extras below the cut! :) (This ended up being a kinda long post so be warned!)

For the most part I try to use the same body shape for all of them, with the only differences being their accessories and some beak variation. None of them have wings either- I don't like drawing them that much so they're reserved for TLQ

Alright here we go- explanation time!

Hero - Knight's helmet based on the default warrior class helmet from Miitopia, no clue if the feather, ponytail, thing... is his actual feathers or part of the hat and I probably never will. I love how he looks even if the helmet sucks to draw

Broken - Shackle and chain around his neck, not much to say about this guy, I was a bit worried it was too similar to the Prisoner's shtick at first but it's grown on me

Contrarian - Jester's cap, the most common defining accessory I saw for him in fanart and thought it fit. Probably gonna change him cause the current iteration doesn't feel quite right. (Either hat redesign or something new)

Opportunist - A tie and ripped dress shirt, I wanted a smarmy business-ey feel for him but didn't think a nice shirt would fit in with the aesthetic of the game, so I gave him a ripped one (he probably found it on the ground somewhere)

Paranoid - Perfume pendant, I adore this concept but have had a hard time conveying it properly. The pendant is filled with smelling salts in case he needs to wake someone up. I want to keep this concept so much but I know it has to go through a few more designs cause I don't really know what it's supposed to look like. Planning on adding another necklace and maybe a clock?

Smitten - A shawl with heart shaped embroidery and a flower broach, I... Don't know how to feel with this one? It doesn't quite fit Smitten's exuberance but I don't know what I would give him instead. Will probably change later if I do come up with something better

Hunted - Hooded cloak, for camouflage :0 (it's a very short cloak though basically only covers his shoulders.) I drew him twice so you could see both versions, realistically he'd always have the hood up but I find it hard to draw and doesn't look as good so I don't bother, (it probably looks weird because the hooded version is missing the feather tufts, I added a quick sketch of the hood with them below)

Cold - A hole in his chest (shamelessly based on Mad Rat Dead,) Cold didn't seem like the type to have any worldly possessions so this was the most literal way I could convey his 'heartless' personality, it is kinda bending my rule of giving all these guys unique accessories but it fits him quite well so I don't mind

Skeptic - Detective hat, this is another one that I think looks a bit weird due to the lack of tufts (version with them below) and I don't know how well this fits his personality, but Skeptic is probably the voice I'm least familiar with so I'm kinda just ignoring redesigning him until I get a better grip on his character (I also don't really know how to draw this hat- I tried my best lol)

Cheated - Cut off tuft and scars, I had a really hard time coming up with this one and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it. It's another one that bends my rule of having accessories but I couldn't think of anything to put on him that fit the vibe of 'Being salty from repeatedly losing to someone using hacks in a game.' (Yes, that's how I summarize Cheated's personality lol)

Stubborn - ...Isn't here, Oops? Yeah, you probably noticed but I don't actually have a design for him yet. I might give him a cape? idk. He's another voice I don't really have a good grasp on, I have to play through his chapters again :')

Anyways! I had put my sort of 'design rules' for these guys in an older version of this post but I ended up not vibing with it so I edited it out- I like the post a lot better without all the excess stuff

And finally as the send-off to the post (and a thanks for reading all) here's the extra bits! My one Long Quiet full body, the Hunted and Skeptic sketch with their tufts, and a bonus Opportunist cause I realized you can't really tell what the shirt looks like lol

[hopepetal]

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

Part Six!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)

@applestruda

Breakfast the next day was a muted affair at first, the mood dampened from the events of last night and Pearl’s injury. Only after reassuring everyone that she was alright and cracking a few jokes did the mood lighten and conversations begin as normal. Impulse still seemed to be a little down, but he still smiled and talked with the rest of them. Even Grian was awake in time for breakfast, having woken up from Pearl moving around.

But still, something felt… off.

Like clouds gathering on the horizon during a sunny day, or knowing something is missing and just not knowing what. Like old signs saying “KEEP OUT” in big, bold letters, worn down to the point of being illegible. It was a timer, ticking down, grains of sand falling through an hourglass.  Something was about to happen, and if they weren’t careful, the knights would be caught in the middle of it. 

What a shame, then, that they didn’t see the storm clouds.

After breakfast, the knights cleaned up and began to go about their day. Pearl looked through their food storage and began to make a list of all the things they’d need to restock next time one of the knights went to the village. Mumbo was working on… something redstone related, perhaps that automatic vegetable cutter he had mentioned the other day. Scar and Grian were tending to the animals, and Impulse was busy chopping wood.

It seemed as though hardly any time had passed at all before it was time for lunch, and the knights gathered around the table once more. Plans were discussed for the next few days– there was shopping to be done, there had been a report of some undead roaming an area nearby the village, and the lodge had to be built, of course. 

Impulse finished up his lunch and stood up. “Pearl, could I… talk to you?” he asked hesitantly, almost reluctantly. “After you’re done, of course. Uh, alone. If you don’t mind.”

Pearl frowned slightly, looking up at Impulse with concern. “Of course. I’m done right now anyway, so…” She stood as well, and walked away from the table with Impulse, toward the forest.

Grian let them go, watching as the two crossed the camp and disappeared into the forest. He looked back at Scar and Mumbo, a sense of dread rising up in him. “We’re following them, right?” he asked, “I’m not the only one who doesn’t like this one bit?”

Scar gave him a smile, though something about it seemed strained. “Yeah. Something’s been off about Impulse for a while. I kinda thought it was over and done with, but last night…” He trailed off, raising his gaze to where Pearl and Impulse had entered the forest. 

“I mean, Pearl probably can handle herself,” Mumbo pointed out, “but I do think… I mean, it does feel a little weird, is all, things are probably going to be fine, but…” He looked between Scar and Grian, trying to think of the right words. “Well, better safe than sorry?” he finished, shrugging awkwardly. 

Grian nodded. “Yeah. If anything, we could just say we were going to prank them. Or something. But I just… I have a bad feeling about this.”

“That’s how most of our pranks start as well,” Scar quipped, laughing when Grian gently smacked him with his wing. “I’m not wrong! I’m not!” he defended himself, quickly standing up from the table and nearly falling over. 

Grian stood, helping Scar steady himself. Mumbo got up as well, and together the three began the trek toward the forest.

–

Pearl and Impulse were walking through the forest in relative silence, and Pearl could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to say something– though what, she had no clue. It was a nice day out to be walking through the forest at least, and Pearl found herself just enjoying the little adventure they were having. The ambient sounds of the forest echoed around her, and dappled sunlight shone golden through the leaves that made up the canopy. 

Pearl sighed, looking over at Impulse. He still hadn’t said anything about what he wanted to talk to her about, and she was getting a little worried. “Ya doin’ alright there, mate?” she asked, giving him a soft smile when he looked up at her.

Impulse nodded, but judging by his expression, that didn’t seem to be the case. “Yeah, I just… well, you see… this is really hard to talk about,” he tried to explain, “and I just… I didn’t want to freak anybody out, or make this a big deal, or…” He stopped talking, looking away. The two continued their walk for a moment in silence, before Impulse spoke up again. “I don’t know, Pearl…”

Pearl brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “You can tell me anything you’d like, Impulse,” she said earnestly. “I know some things are really hard to get out, but I promise you, things will get better if you share your problems with people.”

Impulse let out a quiet frustrated sound. “I know. Everyone keeps saying that, and I know that everyone is willing to talk, and I know how much we rely on communication. And I just– it’s not that I don’t want to talk, it’s just that…” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s so hard to put things into words. And it all just gets to be so overwhelming, and it just builds up and…”

Pearl nodded. “I know how you feel. It’s really hard, Impulse. Take all the time you need. I’m cool with just walking with you for a bit, if that’s what ends up happening.” She shrugged. “It’s a nice day out for it anyway, so I really don’t mind.”

Impulse smiled, seeming to relax a little. “Thanks, Pearl.” He still seemed a little more tense than usual, but definitely more at ease than he had been just a few moments ago. “I know I need to tell you this today, though. It’s not really something that can wait, I think.”

Pearl stepped over an exposed tree root. “That’s fine, too.” Though the fact that Impulse had brought her out here to talk to her about something he considered urgent worried her, she did her best to keep her cool. Whatever it was, it had probably been bothering him for a long time, and he was only able to get it out now.

The trees in front of them were beginning to thin, and Pearl could hear the faint sound of water in the distance. They were near the ravine, she figured, assuming that what she was hearing was the waterfall. It hardly felt like they had been walking for that long at all, but it was easy to lose track of time in the forest, especially because she had been deep in her own thoughts for most of the trip. 

Stepping out from under the cover of the canopy, Pearl followed Impulse and sat next to him in a soft patch of grass that overlooked the ravine from a safe distance, and gazed out across the gap. She had flown over this same ravine many times before, but would normally use the sturdy bridge further down the way when traveling with the knights. The ravine was a good place to go into for ores and such in some places, but the river this far up the ravine was too fast for that. 

Pearl remembered how, when she had first been exploring the area with Grian and found the ravine, they had flown down close to the river and dared each other to touch the water while still in the air. She smiled slightly as she remembered Grian’s terrified squawk when he tried to touch water so fast it was almost purely white, before he had ascended and claimed that he just “didn’t want to get his clothes wet” and that “he was joking when he suggested doing it in the first place”. 

Ah, good times.

Impulse sighed and crossed his legs, leaning forward. “Alright. I…” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I know this might come as a shock,” he started carefully, “but I promise, this isn’t because of what happened last night, and it’s nothing against you or Grian or Scar or Mumbo, any of them. But I… I’ve decided it’s best if I…” For a moment, he was silent. “...if I’m not a knight anymore.”

That… certainly wasn’t what Pearl was expecting. Keeping herself composed, she looked over at Impulse. “Impulse… why?” she asked. “I’m not going to keep you if that’s what you really want, but just… is there a reason for this?”

Impulse pressed his lips together, keeping his gaze strictly on the grass. “I… I don’t think it’s safe,” he admitted, “for you to be around me. For any of you. I’m– Pearl, something’s been happening to me, and I just…” He looked up at her, desperation shining in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t control myself. I’m going to end up hurting someone, and I don’t even know why I asked you to come here alone with me, this was a horrible idea–” He stood up, taking a few steps back. “I don’t think–”

Pearl stood as well, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. “Impulse, calm down. It’s okay, we can talk this through. Just–”

Impulse shook his head. “No, Pearl, we can’t. You don’t understand, I’m out of control! I don’t even know what thoughts are mine anymore! I– why did I do this, I could hurt you!” His panic just continued to grow, and he took a few more steps away.

Getting closer to the edge of the ravine.

Pearl’s eyes darted from the steep drop-off back to Impulse, and she reached out. “Impulse, please stop. Just… come here, we can talk about this, we can get you help…” When Impulse paused, she took a few steps forward. “It’s going to be okay.” She took another few steps, ignoring the instinct to look down at the ravine she was far too close to.

Impulse took another step back, and Pearl felt panic shoot through her veins like ice. “Impulse, please. The ravine,” she reminded him, trying to stop the fear from showing in her voice. “You’re too close. Take my hand, okay? Please.” She felt tears welling up as her breath hitched. “Please.” 

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. It was just Impulse and Pearl, and only Death’s black wings could catch Impulse if he fell.

Pearl held her breath.

“Please.” 

Impulse took her hand.

–

“They really just decided to take the worst path through the woods,” Grian muttered as he tried to smack branches and vines out of the way with his wings. “I mean, come on. Who even does that? This isn’t even a path!”

Mumbo ducked under a branch, shielding his face just in case he got smacked. “Well, I’ve heard that going off-trail is quite nice to the more adventurous types,” he offered, and Grian only rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t we supposed to be adventurous types?” Scar asked, “because last time I checked, we were knights, and knights are… pretty much the adventurous type, aside from like, mercineraries.” He frowned. “That’s not it. Mercin– marcen– hold on, I almost… merchindins–”

“Mercenaries?” Grian asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I guess.” “Yes!” Scar exclaimed, “there we go! That’s it!” He smiled brightly, pleased. 

“This feels more like a summer camp,” Mumbo said, “the ones for those little children, you know. The ones that sell cookies.”

Grian huffed softly. “We are not a summer camp. We are not mercenaries either, we are knights and we rarely go off the trail.”

“I want to go to summer camp!” Scar protested, “it sounds like so much fun! We could go hiking, go on adventures, sit around a campfire and tell spooky stories, and have a cool team name!”

“Honestly, that sounds pretty much like what we do now,” Mumbo pointed out, “just without the cool team name. Sorry Grian,” he added on, “I just don’t really think ‘the knights’ is an actual team name.”

“Then what would you like to be called?” Grian shot back, attempting to be serious though he could hardly hold back a smile.

“I think,” Scar chimed in, “that we should call ourselves the buttercups!”

“Absolutely not,” Grian shot down, “aren’t team names supposed to be fearsome or something? Isn’t the whole point to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies?”

“I think it’s a nice name,” Mumbo interjected, Scar backing him up with an indignant “yeah!” 

Grian pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “Oh, I’m not winning this one, am I,” he muttered. “Pearl’s going to kill me when she learns we’re called the buttercups.” 

“Speaking of, where is Pearl?” Scar asked. “How do you even know we’re going the right way?”

“Birds-eye view,” Grian responded, absolutely deadpan. 

Mumbo let out a confused noise. “But you’re on the ground.”

“Mhm.”

“With us.”

“Seems like it.”

“So it’s not really–”

“I just know,” Grian said, “trust me.”

“The last time you said that, things caught fire,” Mumbo muttered, but said nothing else. 

Grian picked up the pace, the uneasy feeling growing the longer they walked. He prayed that it was just him overreacting, that nothing bad was going to happen, that they would find Pearl and Impulse and everything would be alright. 

Something told him his prayers wouldn’t be answered.

–

When Impulse took her hand, Pearl let out an audible gasp of relief and pulled him carefully away from the edge, toward her. “Impulse,” she breathed, “never do that again.” She hugged him tightly, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She felt his arms carefully wrap around her shoulders, reciprocating the hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry, Pearl.”

For a moment, Pearl was relieved. For a moment, she believed that things were going to be okay, that they were both safe. For a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, she forgot that Impulse never really liked hugs.

By the time the alarm sounded in her brain, it was far too late. 

Impulse grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved as hard as he could.

By some miracle, Pearl managed to dig her fingers into the edge of the cliff, her wings– injured, useless– trying desperately to push her back up onto solid ground. Pain shot through her wings as she strained a little too hard, her stitches separating from the frantic movements. 

“Impulse!” she got out, the tears from earlier beginning to slip down her face, “Impulse, I can’t–!” She tried to find an area to dig her feet into, but found no purchase on the stone. “Impulse, help me!”

Impulse smiled. “I really am sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. He didn’t sound like Impulse. 

Had his eyes always been red?

Realization hit her just as Impulse stomped down hard on her hand.

Pearl fell.

–

A strangled scream tore its way from Grian's throat, and he took off before Scar could even move. “Pearl!” He threw himself over the cliff edge, diving after his sister. 

Grian was fast, but Scar was no slowpoke himself. His eyes burned a brilliant, vibrant blue as the colour faded from his hair. He slammed into Impulse, knocking the other knight to the ground with a grunt and pinning him just inches away from the edge. Mumbo stopped a few feet away, eyes wide as Scar placed his claws against Impulse's throat. 

“Woah there.” Impulse, red-eyed and wrong, smiled as he held up his hands in surrender. “No need to be like that.”

“You,” Scar hissed out, “you’re what’s been causing this, you hellspawn!” He pressed his claws harder against Impulse’s throat, the sharp points pricking the skin and drawing small beads of blood. “Get out of him. Get out of my friend!” 

Impulse just laughed. “Nice try, vex.” In one swift movement, he threw Scar off of him, rolling back onto his feet. “But I've always been stronger.” Before Scar could react, he took off into the forest, leaving the cliff behind. 

Scar didn’t go after him. Despite how much he wanted to, the demon possessing their friend was right. It was stronger than him, and even if he were able to defeat it, he would be bringing significant harm to Impulse. 

The flapping of wings interrupted the silence Mumbo and Scar had been left in, and Grian appeared over the cliff, holding Pearl close. He landed carefully, chest heaving as he gently let Pearl down. She leaned against her brother heavily, noticeably trembling. Scar didn't blame her– falling and being unable to catch yourself was one of the scariest things. 

Mumbo coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence. “I hate to be the one to say it, but I don't think that's Impulse.”

Despite everything, Scar had to laugh. “Yeahhh... you think?”

–

The trip back to camp was a somber one. Pearl recovered from the shock fairly quickly, but her stitches had ripped and she was still in quite a bit of pain. The moment they arrived back at camp, Grian brought her back to her tent to go fix her wing. 

Mumbo and Scar sat in silence, Scar’s hair still streaked with white. He was both frustrated and absolutely furious. He wanted– he wanted that demon dead. He wanted to rip it into shreds for daring to hurt his friends. But he was also worried. Impulse had run off, and Scar doubted that the demon cared very much for his health and safety. 

Grian returned with Pearl after a little while, and the remaining knights sat down to decide on a course of action. 

“I think we should go to Cub,” Scar suggested, “he seemed to have an idea of what could be happening. Maybe, knowing what we know now, he could narrow it down. Or something.”

Grian nodded grimly. “That sounds like a fairly good start. We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

It was as if a dark cloud had descended on the camp as the knights got ready, the usual idle chatter silenced by fear and anger and worry. The knights mounted up and began the trip to Cub’s house, a sense of urgency in their movements.

They’d save Impulse. 

They had to.

–

Impulse woke up on the ground, laying against a tree. He blinked, looking around in confusion. “Where…?”

Suddenly, he remembered.

Impulse shot up, his breaths becoming short and rapid as a panic attack set in. He had to brace himself against the tree, nausea rising as he gasped for air.

He killed Pearl. He– he killed Pearl. Pearl couldn’t fly. He pushed her. She was dead. 

As much as I would love that, she is not. 

Impulse jumped, startled by the demon’s voice in his mind. “You– what do you mean?!” he cried, anger and horror and fear all mixing into one awful emotion. “We pushed her off– she couldn’t survive that!”

If she had died, I would’ve been free. 

“Oh, Void.” Impulse practically collapsed against the tree, slowly sliding down until he was on the ground again. “Thank the stars. Thank the stars.” Relief had tears welling up in his eyes, streaking down his face and leaving hot trails.

I wouldn’t be so relieved just yet. 

“Why not?” Impulse snapped, “what more could you possibly do?”

He was given no answer.

Impulse was now, truly, alone.