#and the ship that passed by in the night. that sunk trying to help.

[soyoudneverguess]

SPOILERS THE SILT VERSES 36

This is a little bit of a live blog

HEART BROKEN HOLY FUCK

RELATIONSHIP ENDED WITH THE JOY OF HAYWARD AND CARPENTER FUCKING AROUND, RELATIONSHIP STARTED WITH THE TRAGEDY OF SEB AND DEV MY LOVES MY DARLINGS MY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MEAN MEAN MEAN YOU MOTHERFUCKERS ARE SO MEAN CANT THEY JUST BE HAPPY CANT THEY AKNDKDNFKEBDUEHFBKDLXNDHDJDBEJDBDJDNEBEBDNNDKDNDJDBDNDNDKKDKDKFKRKRBRJSJBDHDIEBJ DE IEKRJJDHJEE DE

Anyways, happiness is fleeting but “hold on Dev, I’m coming” for a man you’ve known for days who’ve you loved almost upon first sight.

HOLY HOLY HOLY HOLY SHIT HES ALIVE SEB IS SO POWERFUL SEB SEB SEB SEB SEB YOU FUCKING DID IT OH MY GOD MY LOVE DEV DEV DEV DEV DEV YOU MET A MAN AND HE FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND HE WENT INTO HELL FOR YOU AND SAVED YOUR SISTER AND AND AND EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY NOW YOU KNOW EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE BETTER FOR BOTH OF US

Oh bitch. Oh you fucking bitch. I’m. I. Yeah. It truly was too good to be real.

[incendiobrock]

Boneyard Bash {JJ Maybank}

Summary: A twist to the boneyard scene where instead of JJ offering Sarah a drink, Rafe offers y/n one. This doesn’t sit well with bf JJ and a fight ensues but the gun is pulled on the wrong person.. ;)

Warnings: gun violence, language, physical fighting, drinking, smoking, slight mention of blood

-----------------------------------------------------

The past twenty-four hours consisted of a lot of concocting and illegal activities that you would rather not list out. You see, when John B, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and you run into a sunken ship, and the police won’t listen to you when you try to report it, matters are taken into your own hands. What started as a plan to figure out who’s Grady White sunk during hurricane Agatha- has turned into a money ring. 

“Can we please take a break from the illegal, money scheming antics? We’ve been at it all day, and I’m still dead serious about getting caught, I can not lose my scholarship!” Pope spoke, eyeing each and everyone of you as you sat around on the porch of the chateau. Kiara quickly agreed, John B and JJ almost getting caught at the motel was enough for her. 

“Either way is fine with me.” You stated, taking a hit from the joint that JJ had just rolled, blowing out the smoke and instantly feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You passed the joint back to your blonde boyfriend, allowing him to get a few hits of it as well. 

“We could hit up the boneyard?” John B suggested, a quizzical expression playing on his face. He knew that his friends never passed on the idea of throwing a kegger. 

“Now we’re talkin!” JJ cheered, his arm finding its way over your shoulders as you snatched the joint back from him. After your last hit you put out the bud, twisting the burning end into the wood of the porch, ultimately saving the rest for later. You all got up from your spots, heading over to the twinkie so you could pick up a couple kegs before heading to the abandoned part of the beach.

---

The drinks were starting to hit you after downing two, and sipping on a third. Your body swayed to the music playing as a fire slowly burned in the background. You and Kiara had been dancing for awhile, talking about all the things that you never spoke of with the three boys. You were thankful that Kie was there, she was the one that made sure you kept hold of a little bit of your sanity. Out of ear shot, JJ sat next to Pope on a piece of old driftwood that had been washed to shore. His eyes watched you as you let out a laugh in response to something Kiara must’ve said, pure bliss radiating off of you. 

“Dude, you’re starring hardcore at y/n.” Pope chuckled, nudging his shoulder. JJ grinned, shaking his head a little as he looked down at his lap. He had a red solo cup in hand, also feeling the affects of all the beer he had consumed so far this night.

“I can’t help it Pope, I’m in love with her.” JJ responded, looking back up at you as the fire cast its light across your face, making you glow like a true goddess. 

You glanced over your shoulder, blushing as you made eye contact with your boyfriend from across the way. 

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the wanna be Pogue and the Pogue princess dancing around the fire on this fine evening.” A voice spoke from behind you. You felt your smile instantly leave, recognizing who the voice belonged to without having to even turn around. 

“What do you want Rafe?” Kie asked, crossing her arms over her chest, sending death glares at the number one asshole in all of the OBX. Rafe scoffed, running a hand through his preppy, annoying, rich hair. 

“I actually didn’t come over here for you, as if that’s any sort of shock-” He spat, a red solo cup sloshing around beer as he used his hands for emphasis. “-I really only came over here to offer y/n a drink.” He finished his sentence, extending the cup out to you. 

“No thanks, I think I’m good.” You said rolling your eyes and turning your back towards the Kook. Despite you constantly trying to shut Rafe down, he would continue to talk to you any chance he got. All the Pogue’s had picked up that he had some sort of weird fascination with you, and it drove JJ mad. He hated that Rafe was constantly up your ass, despite the numerous times you told him you weren’t interested. JJ knew you could handle yourself, but it also just made him upset because you are his girl, and no one could get in the way of that.

“Oh come on... Where’s that little Pogue boyfriend of yours? Did he get himself thrown in jail yet?” Rafe pushed, causing you to turn back around.

“He’s right here you dipshit!” JJ yelled, quickly walking up to Rafe and punching him square in the face.  You and Kiara both gasped, watching as Rafe almost instantly fought back. He took ahold of JJ’s shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grasp, and throwing his towards the sand. JJ fumbled slightly, his back hitting the ground relatively hard, but he managed to get back up and tackle Rafe to the ground as well. 

“Rafe! Leave him alone!” You cried, watching as Rafe threw multiple punches at JJ’s face. He was lucky that he had been able to dodge a few of them. Before you knew it, John B, and Topper had joined in too. Each boy standing up for their respective friend but ultimately just creating a bigger fight. 

Topper and JJ were now the ones who were throwing punches left and right, John B struggling to pull them apart from each other. You had almost had enough of all the fighting, storming towards the four boys, a little unsure of what your game plan was. “Hey! Stop it!” You yelled out again, watching as JJ had once again hit Topper, his nose now gushing blood. Rafe broke away from the boys, coming straight to you and pulling you against him to where your back was flat against his chest. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, your neck being trapped between the bend in his arm, keeping you snug against him. His right hand raised up, a cool touch of metal being placed against your temple.

Your body instantly froze, although you had never found yourself in this situation before, you weren’t stupid. Rafe had a gun. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had the chance to try and fight back, and now you sure as hell weren’t going to. Who knows whether Rafe would actually use the thing or not... 

“Maybank! You better get your dirty Pogue hands off my friend! Or else!” Rafe said, the gun shaking against your temple as his voice rang out. JJ’s eyes immediately shooting over and seeing the tears forming in your eyes as Rafe’s gun was pressed flush against your head. Your hands were clutching onto the arm that Rafe was using to hold you in place, using him as support as your legs trembled beneath you. 

“Let her go man! This doesn’t involve her!” John B said, coming closer to the two of you. Panic written across everyone’s face, even Topper seemed scared. 

“Don’t come any closer! Tell them princess, if they come any closer I’ll shoot this gun right through your skull.” Your body shook, struggling to catch your breath as tears streamed down your face. Your eyes never lost sight of JJ’s as he stood and watched, trying to calculate his next move. Any alcohol in any of your systems was now long gone, feeling more sober by the second due to the severity of the situation at hand. 

“Please- just let me go...” You chocked, begging Rafe to stop. You had seen him angry before, especially towards you guys, but never to this degree. You could tell he was enjoying it too as he chuckled to himself. 

“Next time, maybe you should just be nice and accept my drink. That way we don’t have to end up in a little fight, alright princess?” He whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair. You gulped, nodding your head up and down, hoping that this would be the end of his threats. “Good.” He whispered again, releasing your body from his grip and removing the gun all in one motion. You landed on your hands and knees, gasping for more air. 

JJ rushed to your aid, dropping down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands, causing you to look at him. “Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you baby?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly, tears now filling his icy blue eyes. You shook your head ‘no’, unable to form a sentence. JJ helped lift you into a sitting position, cradling you in his arms. He rocked you slightly, running a hand through your hair, trying to help you even out your breath. 

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, the tears finally breaking their seal and gliding down his face. 

“I thought you were too.” You replied, letting out a strained chuckle. He smiled, relieved to hear your voice again. He took ahold of both of your hands, allowing you both to stand back up. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kiara said, coming to your opposite side, nodding towards John B and Pope. You both agreed, following her and the others back towards the twinkie. JJ held a firm grip around your waist, not ready to let you go again after what Rafe had almost done to you. You leaned into him, thankful that you hadn’t died. 

Once all five of you were back in the twinkie, and you were laying against JJ’s chest, he spoke once more, “If he ever puts a hand on you again he’s dead.” 

[bluebutlikenotalways]

Laddies we got an Au

Long post below the cut and some disturbing imagery, so be advised.

So it takes place after Pearl sunk Abalone and his fleeting. This time however her sisters actually stuck around to check on her after everything and actually managed to help her open up…some how.

Though her heart wasn’t stained black she will never be the same.

However she was able to build up the strength to talk to Lord Oyster again. She never fully forgave him for giving away her pearl, but he was there after the attacks to take care of the pirates who had somehow managed to avoid dying to take them to justice. This showed the mermaids that some cookies could be trusted. Because of this Pearl became a guardian for The House of Oyster and oh boy did that do wonders for their reputation!

With her making peace with all her pain she didn’t fully become Black Pearl and is kinda grey(-ish purple) I need to work on her design a bit more obviously, but she followed a lot closer to Crimson and takes her job as a protector seriously enough. Some may wonder if she enjoys a good fight more than defending her friends.

Also her sister and Frilled Jellyfish have her tokens to try and brighten her up some.

Through all this Lord Oyster swore he would redeem himself to his moon (she asked him not to call her that anymore lol) So he dedicated a good chunk of resources to trying to locate her pearl! This mission was passed down through the generations until finally…

Oyster Cookie had finally gotten a big lead and was able to send one of the best captains and his crew out to try and recover it.

Unfortunately they ran into a slight problem.

The sea the pearl was said to be found in was rough and could capsize a ship twice their size. Caviar wanted to go alone, but with a crew as stubborn as he they braved it together as one! (Candy Diver died in a different accident and Caviar still managed to find them and bring them aboard because he’s just that good at sniffing out crew mates.)

Alas it wasn’t just a storm.

It was a trap.

A band of pirates forged a letter hoping Oyster herself would show up so they could get a nice tidy ransom, but when a harder than nails crew showed up in their place they were far from pleased.

The Salty Shark crew hold their ground well, but being outnumbered four to one never seems to end in your favour.

Caviar was the last to go down and was thrown overboard to his watery grave like the rest of his crew. After The Silent’s crew was demolished completely the pirates set out to “commandeer” her, but immediately things started to go wrong for them. Things went so wrong that at least two were killed on their scramble to get off the boat while many more met their soggy fates as they threw themselves overboard in preference to whatever was on their with them.

Guess what movie franchise this is based on :D

As the legend says the captain pulled himself up out of the deep that night and sails his waters of the Duskgloom searching for his crew to bring them safely aboard and finally leave that damned place. However the captain’s kindness runs short with strangers who cross his path, especially those who fly the skull and crossbones.

The Silent is still under his full command and all orders are carried out will full efficiency.

Now Oyster wanted the return of her pearl to be a surprise with a big celebration after, but when the captain never returned and those she sent to look for him disappeared she had few other choices than to send her most capable guard.

[divinemissem13]

30 Days of Prodigy, day 4: Coffee

Or: 5 times Dal R'El tasted coffee

The first time Dal R’El tasted coffee, it was an accident. During his brief stint as Admiral Janeway, her ship’s doctor had ordered him to drink it and he tried to keep his cool, he really did. But the stuff was disgusting - even more disgusting than anything they used to pass off as food on Tars Lamora. So he spit it out, all over the bridge of the USS Dauntless. 

***

The second time Dal tasted coffee was definitely not his fault. He was just settling back into his own body when he caught the taste of something familiar…

“Ok,” he demanded between gulps of replicated root beer, “who let her drink coffee in my body?”

“She said it helps her think,” Gwyn offered with a shrug. 

“What’s so bad about it? Our Janeway drinks it all the time!” Rok-Tahk chimed in. 

“It’s awful - it tastes like sour rotten vegetables and I am banning it from this ship!”

“Yes, Captain,” Zero said in a tone that made it clear they would be rolling their eyes, if they had any. 

***

The third time Dal tasted coffee, he did so in secret. He kept thinking about how Admiral Janeway said it helped her think, and how her doctor had ordered him to drink it, and how even Hologram Janeway often had a cup in her hand. He began to wonder if all good captains drink coffee and if so, he’d better learn to like it. 

And maybe if he was prepared for it, it wouldn’t be so bad. 

So he waited until the rest of the crew was asleep and then he snuck into the mess hall. He ordered a coffee from the replicator, pinched his nose shut, and took a tentative sip. 

Nope. Still disgusting he thought as he finished wiping up the coffee he had reflexively spat all over the bulkhead. 

***

The fourth time, Dal had become determined to conquer his vile enemy. He had never been one to give up and he wouldn’t start now! 

The next night, he snuck to the mess hall again. His mantra, as he approached the replicator, was “Real Captains don’t spit out their coffee. Real Captains don’t spit out their coffee.”

Dal spit out his coffee. 

Feeling defeated, he sunk into the nearest chair and covered his face with his hands. How would his crew ever respect him if he couldn’t do something as simple as swallowing a sip of coffee? 

“I thought that stuff was banned on this ship.”

“Janeway!” Dal exclaimed as he jumped to his feet and began fumbling for an answer.  “I, uh, I didn’t - I thought -“

“I just want to be a good captain,” he wailed. “And all good captains drink coffee! Admiral Janeway, you, even Captain Chakotay has a mug in that holo-recording!” He hurled himself back into the chair and flung his head down on the nearest table. Though his arms covered his face, it was clear that he was trying very hard not to cry. 

Janeway studied her young captain for a moment and decided not to correct this assumption when he was so distressed. Instead she chose a different tactic. 

“Chakotay always ruined his coffee with too much cream and sugar,” she said with an amused shake of her head. 

Dal looked up at her, suddenly hopeful. “You mean, I’m allowed to add stuff??”

***

The fifth time Dal tasted coffee, it was loaded up with milk, sugar, and even chocolate syrup. It was a pale tan color, rather than the deep dark brown he was accustomed to and it smelled of sweetness, with only a faint hint of sour vegetables - and only if you knew to look for it. 

This time, Dal did not spit out the coffee. 

Maybe, he thought, I might be a good captain after all. 

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

a very self-indulgent frankie fic

Okay so I've been on this work trip, doing field work at a folk music festival. It's been fun but super tiresome, and the trip itself was very long: first a four hour train ride, spent one night with friends, then 5,5 hours on a cruise ship to get to the island where the festival was held. Two days there, then ship back, now I'm at a hotel for the night before I take a 4 hour train ride home tomorrow morning.

It's helped me cope with the long days to once in a while imagine Frankie with me on this trip, and I decided to write and share it. It's hella specific, but I think you guys can appreciate Frankie even if it is hella specific.

Short specs:

Frankie x f!reader/you

Non-explicit sex

3,299 words

About two hours after leaving port, the ship leaves the archipelago and cuts into open water, and the breeze becomes noticeable.

”That’s nice,” you murmur as you sip your ice cold Pepsi with muddled lime. Even in the shade on sun deck, it’s warm enough for you not to feel anything but refreshed when the wind hits. Frankie hums next to you on the plastic wicker couch as he takes a sip of his beer. It’s ten in the morning, but he’s on vacation, coming with you on your work trip that required some traveling – first several hours by train, a hotel night in the port town, and now an early morning departure to go out to an island where you’d do fieldwork. When you told him in April that you were going, he immediately suggested that he’d come with, which you happily agreed would be a wonderful idea. The event you’re documenting is one where most participants bring their families, so Frankie wouldn’t even stand out in any way.

Except, of course, that you already knew he’d be the most handsome man in a crowd of a couple of hundred people.

Aboard the ship, you first went to the breakfast buffet before trying to find a somewhat calm and secluded place where you could hang out for the next four hours. Turns out, sundeck was the place to go. Dance music blasts out of the speakers at a volume which allows for conversation, people are happily lounging in the sun or shade, having ice cream or drinks, and there are children present – something you could do without, but at this time of day it means that there probably won’t be many drunks causing a commotion. You managed to snag a couch in the shade, Frankie bought drinks for you both as you pulled out your knitting project from your bag. You’re quietly knitting away, looking up to watch the small islands go by, and to glance at your pretty man next to you. He’s wearing shades but from your angle next to him, you can see that his eyes are often closed. His face is relaxed underneath the bill of his trademark cap, and he’s sunk deep into the embrace of the couch, right ankle resting over his left knee, leaving his right thigh pressing against you. When he puts his glass down, he yawns, stretched his arms up, and his right arm lands on the backrest of the couch, slung around your shoulders. You smile at the cliché movie theater move but know that it’s not a way of discreetly trying to get close to you: it’s just Frankie wanting the physical contact. So you say nothing, but move your row marker on the knitting description up, and begin a new row. Neither one of you speak much, except for when you see something to comment on: a very nice summer home on an island, a cool sailing boat passing by, the nice view. The music and sound of other people talking fades into the background as you glide smoothly through the waters, relaxed and happy in your public little bubble on the sea.

The hotel is more of a motel, and hasn’t been renewed at least since Clinton was president. But it’s clean, and the room isn’t too warm, despite the late June heat.

Frankie enters behind you, but stops in the doorway.

”Do they honestly expect us to not share?”

You grin as you look from his aghast expression to the two single beds with a small table in between.

”I don’t think they expect anything,” you tell him. Frankie releases his backpack and immediately starts to redecorate: moving the bedside table out of the way, and pushing the beds together. The ugly, early 1990’s bedspreads are an eyesore, but he seems a lot more pleased with your accomodations when it’s clear that you can sleep together.

”The bathroom’s almost as big as the room itself,” you announce while you’re washing your hands. ”And there’s a ramp at the front door. I didn’t expect this old dump to be fitted for disabled people.”

”Good on them.”

You come out of the bathroom, finding Frankie reclined on the bed in a typical 1970’s soft porn pose, chin seductively lowered and brows wiggling.

”Why don’t you come over here, let’s test the bed.”

”We don’t have time, the bus leaves in half an hour,” you laugh as you walk up to him.

”I’ve been known to get you off in less than that.”

”Tempting,” you smile as you take his hand and pull him up to a sit, ”But I need to freshen up and repack my bag so that I remember to bringe everything.”

”Let’s just test the springs?” he suggests, patting his thigh, and with him sitting like this on the side of the bed, you can’t resist sliding into his lap, straddling his thighs and slinging your arms around his neck. His skin is warm and a little sticky from sweat: after coming ashore, you were packed into a bus which rolled out of the ship alongside you, and the AC had no time to come into full force, so the heat inside the vehicle very nearly killed you.

”Just a quick test run,” you agree, and he pulls you close for a kiss while starting to bounce carefully. You giggle against his lips but are in no way immune to the way the apex of your thighs rub against his crotch when you rock together like this.

”I reckon we can have a good time here later,” Frankie murmurs before trailing kisses along your jawline to your ear. ”We’ll open the window and anyone who dares use that pool at bedtime will regret it.”

He’s referring to the pool right outside your room. Your door goes directly out onto the quad, and you can hear the delighted screams of children who, hopefully, will be in bed by the time you get back from your evening program.

”Everybody in the building will hear us,” you point out with a soft sigh, the heat of the day mixing with the heat Frankie’s stirring up in you. ”I don’t think this hotel has soundproofed rooms. I won’t sleep a wink.”

”We can do other things,” Frankie shrugs before getting up, holding onto you and throwing you down onto the bed before covering you with the entire length of his body.

”It’s too warm!” you protest, but he presses his lips to yours, effectively silencing you, and grinds against you, pressing you into the mattress. You’re pleased to notice that he’s getting hard.

”Yeah, I can work with this,” he states before getting off you as quickly as he pushed you down, and offering you his hand to pull you back up. ”Let’s freshen up and go to work.”

”Here.”

You look up from your camera at Frankie, who’s handing you an water bottle, cap already off.

”You’ve been running around in 79 degree heat for over an hour. You’re dehydrated.”

”Thanks.” Gratefully, you accept the bottle and take half of it in one go. The bottle is straight from the cornershop: cold and refreshing in the heat.

Frankie takes the bottle when you return it to him.

”You doing okay?” he asks, and you step close to him to give him a little smack on the lips.

”Am now. Thank you.”

”You’re welcome,” he smiles, and even through the sunglasses, you can see the way his eyes crinkle.

”What time is it?”

”Around six.”

”Christ, already? I have lost track of everything. It’s almost time for dinner. You got your ticket?”

”Yup.”

Without a word, you hand him your camera and turn around, and he puts it into your backpack. You grin at him when turning back to him, and take his hand.

”It’s good to have an assistant.”

”Only here to make your life easier, m’am.”

Hand in hand, you start to walk towards the building where dinner will be served.

”I really can’t.”

It’s closing in on 11 pm and you’re finally in bed, fresh out of the shower and crashing hard. Not even Frankie’s roaming hands and the idea of ”trying out” the bed can keep you awake.

”I figured.” Frankie kisses your shoulder. ”You need sleep. Tomorrow is a long one.”

You murmur something affirmative, eyes falling shut. Finding his hand under the covers, you clasp it lightly and settle in.

Despite being tired, however, you notice after a while that you’re too tightly wound up still. You try to turn onto your other side, Frankie fitting himself to you when you do, but it doesn’t work.

”Babe?” you finally whisper.

”M-hmm?”

”I think I could use a little orgasm to help me sleep.”

His arm around you tightens a little.

”Is that so?”

”Yeah. But I’m as dry as a tinderbox, it would be a lot of work, I’m afraid?”

He nuzzles your neck. ”Never too much work for me, my love.”

You roll onto your back and accept his sweet kiss before he moves down your body, casting the covers aside while peeling your pj pants off.

”Go ahead, say it.” You grin at Frankie, who smirks back.

”Say what?” His tone is perfectly innocent.

”You know what.”

”I told you that you need to pack a cardigan.”

”There, thank you, yes, you told me, and I didn’t because it’s gonna be hot all weekend, but you said we’re going to the archipelago, and so you packed one, and lo and behold – ”

”It’s really windy and cold this morning,” Frankie finished your sentence, but he’s not being smug about it, at least not annoyingly so. And he did tell you so, told you when you were packing that you’re going out to a tiny kingdom of islands, and that it’s probably going to be windy at some point. You vehemantly resisted the idea of bringing a piece of clothing that you probably wouldn’t need, so Frankie pretty much shoved one of your favorite cardigans, one that goes with most of your other clothes, into your suitcase. And even if you’re not exactly freezing this morning when you’re on a boat ferry on your way to another, smaller island, the gale and the heavy clouds in the sky are a far cry from last night’s heatwave temperatures. You’re a lot more comfortable with the cardigan, that’s for sure.

The ferry ride is barely a half hour long, and there’s a small cafeteria on the ferry, but you and Frankie, and maybe two dozen other travelers stand on the sun deck and look over the dark sea and surrounding islands. He has his arms around you and even if you’ve slept too little and are worried about your energy levels for the day that’s promising to be a very long one, you feel good about Frankie being with you. He has your back, right now very literally: he’s standing right behind you, arms around you, keeping you warm and safe.

The day starts off with orientation around the small island community, before the musicians scatter into different directions for practice, workshops, and concerts. You walk around for an hour, taking photos and notes, talking to people and getting the vibe of the place. The sun finally breaks through and you can put away the cardigan, applying sunscreen instead and putting on your hat to protect your face.

After lunch, you take a little break to enjoy yourself, attending a workshop for singing sea shanties. The leader, an accomplished folk musician specialized in shanties, has rigged up a rope in a tree. After an introduction, you join other participants in pulling the rope in rhythm to the responses you sing out to the shantyman’s call. It’s a lot of fun, and very different from anything you’ve done before. The chance of participation is also a very welcome break from just being an onlooker.

When the workshop is over, you’re wearing a huge smile as you join Frankie again. You noticed that he took both pictures and video, and you know that he’s probably already sent a clip to the group chat he has with the guys, probably accompanied by some horribly cheezy line about what his girl is capable of.

”You looked good,” he compliments you. ”Very strong and sailor-like.”

You scoff in good fun, taking out the water bottle from your backpack for a sip. Frankie glances around before stepping closer to you and mumbling into your ear:

”Maybe we should try that rhythm in bed? Heave a-way, haul a-way…

You almost choke on the water as you laugh.

”Who would be the caller?”

”Duh,” Frankie rolls his eyes, ”You, obviously. You’re the one with the experience now. You’ll just do the screaming, telling me what to do, and I’ll heave away.”

You feel a short burst of heat inside you at the thought, and Frankie snickers.

”You’re blushing. Let’s go get ice cream.”

It’s close to midnight when you finally get to leave the festival venue and walk the short distance to the hotel. The Saturday night is cool and calm, and you’re so tired that you’ve gone non-verbal. The mere thought of having to wash off your makeup and take a short shower to get all the sticky sweat rinsed off is almost too much, but once you reach the hotel room, Frankie quietly takes off your clothes. You manage the rest by yourself before you stumble into bed, this time really too tired for sex.

”I wanna learn how to play the fiddle,” you murmur into the pillow before you’re out like a light.

The next morning you allow yourself a little sleep-in, only because the shitty motel serves Sunday breakfast one hour later. Still tired and unable to think about the day ahead, you and Frankie take your breakfasts along with the other earlier risers, before retiring back to your room. As Frankie packs his few belongings, you try to make sense of the morning’s programme.

”So there’s a bunch of people going to another island again for a fiddler’s sermon at the local church, we’re definitely not going on that one, and then there’s just random people playing in random spots in the vicinity. We have checkout at noon, and the bus leaves for the harour at 1:15, from downtown.”

”Okay, you gonna do some more documenting?”

You sigh and put down the itinerary. You’re all socialized out, still tired and feeling extremely drained, and it’s hard to plan.

”I don’t know… I think I’ll just listen to some of the playing and make up the rest in my field report.”

”Atta girl. Wanna do some sightseeing? You said you were interested in the museum of cultural history?”

”I don’t know…” You can’t think, dread walking around but also sitting still. The long stretch of over five hours on a cruise ship back to the mainland during the afternoon and early evening feels overwhelming.

Frankie sees your exhaustion, and takes the itinerary from you.

”Let’s see… okay, so there’s going to be playing in the park right next to here, why not go there? Then check out, put our suitcases on the bus, walk downtown to get a little stretch, then get on the bus there as it leaves for the harbour.”

”I really should work at least a little…” you mumble, but your thoughts are already straying to your knitting project.

”You’ve worked enough, and you’re still going to write your report on the way back. Let’s just take it easy for now.”

You gratefully accept his idea, and start to pack up your own stuff.

It is with a deep sigh of relief that you come on board the ship back to the mainland. Frankie immediately takes the reins and steers you down the stairs.

”Where are we going, the restaurants are up one level?” you ask, still too dazed to really care. You’re stuck on this ship for hours anyway.

”We’re getting a cabin,” he tells you. ”You’re exhausted, you need to be away from people.”

”Oh, okay,” is all that you can say. You thought you’d be cheap and get away without a cabin, but you can settle the expense with Frankie later. As you wait in line to the info desk, you duck into the ladies right next to it. When you come out again, Frankie’s holding a key card and looking pleased.

”How far down are we?” you ask, expecting the below-the-car-deck tiny wardrobe that usually is within your price range. Frankie just guides you to the elevator with a hand on the small of your back. You look at him again when you’re about to hit the right button, but the elevator fills with people and you don’t see which button he presses. The elevator goes down several floors, letting people off, but Frankie keeps you where you are.

”Frankie, where are we going?” you ask when the elevator goes up to the 12th level. When the doors open, you look at Frankie with big, round eyes. He can’t keep his face straight anymore.

”I got us a suite.”

”You did what?” you gape. Frankie gently pushes you out of the elevator and looks around for the right numbers, then directs you to the right.

”I got you a suite,” he corrects himself. ”You need to rest, baby, and I want you to do it in luxury.”

You’re at a loss for words, just following him to the right door that he unlocks and opens, inviting you to go first.

The suite is elegantly and peacefully decorated with a king-size bed, a lounge corner, a huge bathroom and an infrared sauna. You just stare around you, trying to understand what it is you’re seeing. What your man is treating you to.

”I think it’ll get us by for the next five hours, don’t you?” he asks a little shyly, and you look up at him.

”Frankie… this thing’s three hundred bucks. For five hours.”

”And you deserve it. You worked so hard this weekend, baby, and I know you’re going to spend tomorrow’s train ride writing your report. And we’re not going anywhere on holiday this summer. This is self care, nothing else.”

You shake your head and blink away the tears. ”Thank you. This is… you’re the best.”

”You’re welcome,” he says gently, pulling you in for a hug and a kiss. ”Let’s rest for a bit, then go find a restaurant, and then come back here and kick our shoes off.”

About ninety minutes later, you’re on your back in the soft bed, the clean white linen soft and nice against your naked skin. Frankie’s buried to the hilt in you, slowly fucking you, kissing you over and over again. You let your hands travel all over his back, down to his ass cheeks, pressing him deeper inside, moaning into his mouth when he hits some deep, intense place inside your core. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ear and thrusts harder a couple of times, smiling devilishly at your whimpers. He then resumes his slow but resounding pace, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You sigh out a moan before your brain makes a connection, and you start to giggle.

”What?” Frankie slurs, and you draw a deep breath before blaring out a resounding:

”Heave a-way, haul a-way!”

Frankie joins you in your laughter, propping himself up onto his elbows.

”Give me a rhythm,” he chuckles, ”and I’ll stick to it until you cum.”

You try, god knows you try, but you’re laughing too hard. When you finally calm down, you pull him down over you for a kiss.

”You did perfectly before,” you promise him.

[karmic-vibes]

Oh, Baby, Baby

2 - How Was I Supposed to Know?

cw: mentions of pregnancy, failed contraceptives, misgendering

Year: 1985

“If you two don’t get her to go to sleep, I’m shipping you off to Wayne’s for the night!” Pattie threatened.

Maggie had been screaming for the past hour, nothing doing the trick to console her. Stevie and Eddie had tried feeding her, changing her, rocking her, and everything else in between. They knew she was teething, so they tried giving her an array of toys to help soothe her, but she was even rejecting those.

The couple had school the following day, but they were debating on skipping again because of the lack of sleep they were each getting. Stevie was beginning to worry that her parents were going to kick them out—she knew her father couldn’t take much more of this. She was already pressing her luck by being a teen parent, never mind having both her child and husband staying there as well.

“Eds, can you try feeding her again?” Stevie pleaded.

“Stevie, my nipples are so fucking sore,” he whined.

“Please! She needs to go to sleep.”

“Jesus, fine.”

Eddie sat up in bed as Stevie set Maggie down in her husband’s arms. By the grace of god, she began eating and mellowed out. The parents sighed and sunk back into their bed’s headboard.

“You’re getting a fucking vasectomy,” Eddie mumbled. “I’m not doing this shit again.”

“Not getting pregnant?”

“Not having anymore babies. This is fucking exhausting.”

“But I want more kids.”

“You want more of these?”

“Yeah… is that bad?”

“Christ, Stevie.” Eddie gently ran his thumb along Maggie’s chubby cheek. “How many more are we talking?”

“I want six kids.”

“Six!? Nu-uh, no way!”

“Why? We’re great parents.”

“Let’s see how shit goes with Maggie first, and we’ll go from there. Deal?”

“Deal.”

A few months passed and the couple was finally getting a hang of being parents. Now that Maggie wasn’t teething, she was learning to walk, and even babbling, home life was becoming much easier. Pattie was helping out while they were at school, John would read to her when they did their homework, and Wayne would babysit when no one else was able. Their lives were finally coming together, despite the accident that was their daughter.

By June, the couple was set to graduate high school. Eddie had already been held back a year, which was expected after having Maggie. But the family didn’t care—if anything, it was more convenient that they were able to graduate together.

When the ceremony began, Eddie and Stevie walked side by side, with Eddie holding Maggie up on his hip. They had convinced their principal to have Maggie with them, and even got her a graduation gown and cap to match her parents.

While graduating high school was nothing more than an expectation for the Harrington’s, Wayne was beyond proud of Eddie for his accomplishment. Even with all the obstacles he had to overcome, he still managed to leave with a degree. The wife and the kid were just a little bonus.

The Harrington’s spent the summer in Hawkins with their friends, basking in the little time they had left before they were set to up and move to California. Stevie had gotten into UC Berkeley and Eddie had gotten a job working for a music producer. He may have just been a coffee runner, but he was happy to get the opportunity to know people in the industry.

The family moved out to California near the end of summer, Stevie getting special housing accommodations for her family. Berkeley had provided the Harrington clan with a two bedroom apartment, fully furnished with a kitchen and laundry in the basement of the building. John was paying for Stevie’s entire college education, as long as she kept her GPA above a three. He even said that if they ever wanted to move into a bigger place, he’d cover the costs.

Stevie may have never been close with her father growing up, but she firmly believed that he had a soft spot for his granddaughter. Who could blame him—everyone loved Maggie.

Right as winter break approached, Eddie decided to celebrate by surprising his wife with a special, adults-only evening. He hired a babysitter to take Maggie off their hands and Eddie made the whole evening about Stevie.

He made her dinner, rented her favorite movie, found a nice wine to try, and bought a bunch of candles to decorate their bedroom for their alone time. When dinner was all said and done, and they were up in their room, the entire world melted around them.

That was, until, Eddie felt the condom break.

“Shit, Stevie, get off me,” he panicked.

“What? What happened?” she hummed, blissed out.

“The stupid condom snapped—I feel you’re fucking cum in me. Get off, I need to go clean up.”

“Ed, stop panicking. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, look how that turned out the first time.”

“Okay, but you love her, so it worked out.”

“Just because I love our kid doesn’t mean I want another one. Now move, Stevie, before I end up pregnant again.”

“Eddie–”

“Stephanie, I am not having another kid before I’m twenty!”

“Fine,” she whined as she rolled off him. “I love you, Eds. Thanks for tonight.”

“You’re gonna be asleep when I’m done showering, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” Stevie hummed. Eddie placed a kiss on her forehead and ran his hand through her hair.

“I love you too, baby. I’m gonna go wash out your swimmers.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“Too late.”

Eddie kept a close eye on his cycle for the following month, and for the first time in his life, he was thankful to get his period. He rejoiced with his wife at the fact that he wasn’t pregnant and they could return to their normal life.

Slowly, but surely, Eddie was making strides in the music industry. He scraped enough money together to rent some studio time, where he was able to put together a single on a cassette. He presented it to his boss, who happily sent it out to a handful of record labels, seeing if anyone would want to pick him up as a client.

It took a few months, but Eddie eventually heard back and he struck a deal with Capitol Records. They offered him a single album contract, and would be offering him more if he picked up a following. When his new manager, Billy, told him, he was buzzing from excitement—so much to the point where he immediately upheaved his lunch in the trash can.

“Fuck, ‘m alright,” he groaned.

“You sure, man?” Billy asked.

“Yeah, I’m, uh… I’m fine. Nerves just getting to me, I guess.”

“Well, pull it together. You’re gonna be big, kid.”

“I’m… aren’t I older than you?”

“I dunno, dude, maybe. But regardless, why don’t you take the rest of the day off. Head to urgent care or something and get yourself checked out—make sure you don’t have food poisoning or something.”

“I told you, it’s just nerves.”

“Still, go get checked out just to be safe. I can even drive you, if you need a ride.”

“Yeah, fine, let’s go.”

Eddie hopped in Billy’s Camaro and was dropped off at the closest urgent care center, where Billy just waited in the parking lot until he was done. Lucky for Eddie, the wait wasn’t long, so he was able to be seen within a few minutes.

“So, Mrs. Harrington–” Eddie cringed and chewed at his bottom lip. “What brings you in today?”

“I threw up at work and my boss just wants to make sure I’m okay. I feel a little queasy, but besides that, I’m fine.”

“Alright, we’ll figure out what’s going on. Just a few questions–”

“No, I’m not pregnant if that’s one of your questions.”

“Okay, so when was your last period?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“And how long did it last?”

“I dunno, three days?”

“And there’s no chance you could be pregnant?”

“I mean, no? My spouse and I had a condom break a few months back, but we took care of it immediately.”

“So you went to the doctor and got a Plan B?”

“What? No, I–”

“So there is a chance you could be pregnant?”

“No, I cleaned up immediately.”

“Mrs. Harrington…” Eddie rolled his eyes, but sat back and listened to the rambling doctor. “Just because you ‘cleaned up’ doesn’t stop you from getting pregnant. Let’s just take a test to be sure. If you’re so adamant that it’s going to be negative, then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Fine, but I don’t have to pee.”

“We can do a blood test. It’s more accurate that way, anyway.”

“I’d rather just pee,” he muttered.

“Then drink up and I’ll be back soon.”

After Eddie devoured nearly a liter of water, he requested to use the restroom. He did his business and continued to wait for the result. The thirty minutes dragged on, even though he knew what the result was going to be. Eventually, his doctor came back in, result in hand.

“Well, Mrs. Harrington, congratulations. You’re–”

“Not pregnant? I told you I wasn’t.”

“Eating for two…” the doctor trailed off.

“I’m… I’m sorry, it almost sounded like you said I was pregnant.”

“Yeah… because you are…”

“I… no, I can’t be. Please, say psych.”

“Mrs. Harrington–”

“Don’t fucking call me that. Tell me you’re joking and tell me I’m not pregnant,” he panicked. “I-I got my period. How can I be pregnant?”

“A bit of spotting is actually quite normal. The test is right here, if you wanna take a look. Two lines means it’s positive.” He showed Eddie the test strip, and two lines glared at him, clear as day.

“Oh, my fucking god…” he cried. “I can’t be pregnant again.”

“Again? Do you already have a child?”

“Yeah… she’s not even two. Oh my god!” Eddie sobbed into his hands, his breath getting caught in his throat. “I can’t do this again.”

“I mean, there are other options available.”

“I know, but my spouse would never want to go through with that…”

“Well, have a conversation with him and see what would work best for you two. While we’re here, would you like to get an ultrasound done? Just to see what’s what?”

“Might as well,” he sniffed.

“Alright, follow me down the hall and a tech should be with you shortly.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled.

He got situated on the exam table and blacked out for the remainder of the exam. It wasn’t until the ultrasound technician asked him a series of questions when he tuned back in.

“Ready to listen?” she smiled.

“I, um, yeah, I guess…”

He heard the thumping of the heartbeat over the speakers and tears spilled over his eyes. He didn’t want another baby. Not now. He couldn’t.

“Okay, that was Baby A. Ready for Baby B?”

“I’m sorry, what!?”

[caveatscriptor]

Prompt: Write a piece based on a photograph. (Thank you @inkspellangel for the photo inspo ;) )

Time brainstorming: 10 minutes

Time writing: 30 minutes

This is a piece in response to one of the prompts in our book club, Little Red Writing Hoods (@joinourbookclub).

tl;dr: Do I beta read my stuff? Is the earth flat?

I have always loved the sea, there has always been a call of the water to my very essence, that is how I had become a professional diver. I lie. I have become a diver to fulfill the stupid caprice of getting my late father’s approval. He is dead, has been so since I was seventeen, didn’t even send me to college. He couldn’t.

I swam nimbly under the old wreckage of an old ship. That wasn’t what I was here for; here, the same place where I had had an accident four months ago. There it was, my car, the lights… still on? It didn’t matter.

My flashlight caught an old familiar face. The lone wooden statue of a cellist, perpetually playing even after it had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Somehow it was terribly beautiful, between the wooden crevices and the slats created by its inexorable erosion there was new life, corals of every and each color, made for a beautiful net up to the musician’s knee, over the green algae that painted most of his suit and half of his face, and finding purchase on the cello’s base it confidently extended the colorful network up to the pegbox of the instrument. This very same statue had somehow been a personal god for me. Stupid, but so is most of hope, just a stupid little thought.

That fateful night the rain was unforgivable and unavoidable, such inclement weather had been my demise, that and sending the car over the guard rails and straight into the ocean. I couldn’t even process the moment, it just happened, one moment I was driving slowly through the road, the next I was underwater, no air inside the car, just water everywhere. Trying to remain calm and rational is a perfectly sound saying, but no one is either under the loom of death itself. I tried to take my seatbelt off, I couldn’t. I tried to break any of the windows next to me, I also couldn’t. I stupidly cried, or tried to, underwater. I remember looking at the only surviving photo of me and my dad together, it hung under the rearview mirror inside a keychain. We were smiling for the camera, ugly Christmas sweaters could be seen, we looked genuinely happy. The rest of the photos I had destroyed, childishly. Off in the distance, that was when I first made out another face, but as my brain was quickly being deprived of oxygen, I had actually thought it was a person, I had thought that I was dying and my dad was coming to get me.

A shimmer caught my eye, the keychain. Instead of going to my poor old car, I neared the statue. Hope was stupid, and yet… My hand hovered over the uncovered side of it. A gentle expression could be seen, where the algae hadn’t reached yet. Playing until the end, and even beyond, how fitting. I pulled my hand down. No need to touch it, wouldn’t feel a thing with all the gear that weighed me down as it was, at most I would disturb the little animals that hid in the coral, and even the ones that had managed to sneak inside of it and create a new home.

I finally approached the car and took the keychain out. That had been the sole reason to comeback here, even so, somehow, this had been far more than that. That statue was more than a hallucination now. It felt like a sign. Just like hope is idiotic, signs are the most illogical of nonfactual data. In my brain all of this felt like a reaffirmation, it felt like…

“All storms will pass, and there is beauty to be had everywhere.”

I tried to hold back the tears. Had my father ever said something like that? Yes, I believe so. He loved self help mottos, this sounded just like it. It was stupidly perfect.

[sweetestbriar03]

"We're gods! Surely there's something we can do," Mariza exclaimed, a half-crazed desperation in her eyes as she followed Samira over the moonlit expanse of the sea.

"Even if we could, Mariza, there is no purpose in wasting so much power and energy for such a selfish and unnecessary cause," Samira said, waving their hand dismissively.

Mariza's expression fell, the fins at the sides of her face drooping from discouragement. "But... I... I can't just- do nothing! She's the only one who can help me remember who I am!"

Samira turned, casting a sharp gaze to the newly-ascended sea goddess. "Who you were," they corrected. "It's best you just move on from your mortal life. You're a god now, and soon enough, all the people and places from your past will fade into obscurity, as all mortal things do after a century or so."

"I was turned into a god, couldn't Delta become one too?" Mariza asked. "Then she would be immortal, right?"

"You'd have to convince one of the current gods to pass their power to her, and good luck with that," Samira scoffed. "Besides, Mariza, you need to understand, you'd just create the same cycle of problems by doing that. Delta would lose her mortal memories, and then you'd try to find a way for her to remember them. Suddenly Delta misses her whole crew and begs and pleads for them to become immortal too! Just give it up, Mariza. Your place in the world has changed, and it's high time for you to start taking responsibility as goddess of the sea. You have a whole group of followers waiting for you to answer their prayers, and that's far more important than some pitiful mortals you feel attraction to."

"But I-"

"Honestly, Mariza, focus on your duties. Before you know it, Delta and her whole crew will be gone, and you'll never have to think of them again. Pirating is a dangerous job, any number of things could rid them from the world. Then we can all just move on, like they never existed in the first place. Once you've lived a few more centuries, you'll learn to stop valuing individual mortals so much. Their lives are simply insignificant," Samira said with a smile, as if the words were supposed to be reassuring.

The words sunk into Mariza's brain like molasses into a sponge, and though she wanted to believe they were wrong, she knew there was an ounce of truth to them. Delta did live a very dangerous life, one that wouldn't last even a fraction of Mariza's existence. That thought was terrifying.

Her knees slowly came to meet the surface of the water, which wrapped around her in a welcoming embrace. Small fish swam up to greet her eagerly, unaware of the sorrow flooding her mind. One of them began to nibble at her fingertips, causing her to snap out of her trance. She dove into the water and propelled herself away from the moon god. She had a ship to catch.

-

Delta's crew, for the most part, was fast asleep when Mariza caught up to them. None of them noticed when she slipped onboard and headed directly for the captain's cabin. The only evidence of her presence were the wet footprints that followed her along the deck. Even the captain herself was asleep, happily unaware of the sea goddess entering her room.

"Delta." Mariza stepped over to the bed, watching the pirate's sleeping figure for a moment before reaching out and jostling her shoulder. "Delta!"

"Hmm?" The captain hummed, turning over in her sleep to face the wall.

Mariza scowled. "For f^ck's sake," she grumbled, waving her hand and summoning a small orb of water to splash over Delta's head.

It seemed to do the trick, though just barely. Delta woke up in a daze, looking around to try and find the source of the water. She let out a scream of surprise when she saw Mariza standing at her side, arms crossed.

"Sh!t, Mari, you scared me. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" The captain sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

"I need to talk to you," Mariza said, her anger fading into concern.

Despite her drowsiness, Delta was not oblivious to the mood change. She tossed the blankets aside and stood, placing a hand on Mariza's arm. "Is everything okay?"

"I... I'm scared," Mariza admitted, looking away. "Samira wants me to stop worrying about you, and to move on, but..." She bit her lip, hesitant to speak the words that continued to plague her mind. How am I supposed to forget about someone who means so much to me? "Delta, I want you to promise me something." Mariza steeled herself, meeting Delta's worried gaze.

"Of course. Anything," Delta said, all too eager to support her beloved.

"I need you to stop pirating. In fact, stop sailing altogether. Retire and live a peaceful life, I dunno, baking or something."

"Wh-what?" The request caught Delta completely off guard. "Did you get drunk again?"

"No! Delta, I'm being dead serious," the goddess exclaimed, gripping Delta's shoulders. "It's too dangerous. You have to stop!"

"Mariza, I can't just stop. This is my life!" Delta argued, pulling Mariza's hands from her shoulders. "I've been doing this for years - my whole crew has been doing this for years!" She shouted incredulously.

"I don't want to lose you," Mariza cried. "I know this is your life, but- please, Delta! It's not safe."

Delta fell quiet, and stepped away for a moment. She turned and walked behind her desk, gazing out at the sea through her window. "What you're asking is... It's impossible, Mari. I can't abandon my crew, and I can't ask them to abandon this life as well." She sighed and turned back around to face the goddess. "I'm sorry."

The ship creaked under the heavy silence that followed. Mariza waited with bated breath for the answer she wanted to hear. Even if it wasn't a solid yes, she'd be happier to compromise than get nothing at all.

"I suppose I could try," Delta would say, "For just a few years." Hell, even just an, "I promise to stop pirating and sail as safely as possible from now on," would be acceptable. But after a few minutes passed, Mariza realized she wasn't going to get those answers. Delta had made her final decision, and it was the one that completely disregarded Mariza's concern for her safety.

"Fine," Mariza said, her heart aching in her chest. "Fine! Do whatever the hell you want! I'd sacrifice my godhood to be with you if I had the ability, but you won't even make an effort to be safe for me! Well, if a dangerous life is the one you want, I'll give it to you," she hissed. "Sail as much as you damn please, but know that everytime your ship leaves the harbor, every day you decide to stray further from shore, the wrath of the entire sea will be upon you! Waves will beat on your hull, and rain will forever fall over your ship!" Her eyes glowed viciously in the darkness as she uttered her curse. "Food will be scarce and fish will be few! Nobody will dare come near your ship for the eels and sharks that will circle it."

With the final words spoken, Mariza threw open the door to the cabin and stalked away, fuming. The waves crashed against the sides of the ship, eager to wrap her in their presence once more.

--

(This is my first time posting on Tumblr, please tell me if I've done something wrong TvT)

Decided to write a small piece based off of the incredible Ocean Idiots universe ^^

Delta belongs to @the-trashiest-pada

Mariza belongs to @shandzii

Those two and @melodyofthevoid are the creators of the Ocean Idiots universe :)

[graphospasm]

Losing an online friend does not feel real.

Online friends are ships in the night, passing by at a distance, occasionally sailing closer only to drift toward the horizon almost without you realizing it. And that distance doesn’t feel right, necessarily, but it’s normal, and thus it happens without being remarked upon. You always know, deep down, that they’ll be back. Your ships will pass in the night once more. You take that fact for granted.

So when you learn one of those ships has sunk, and it will never sail your waters again, it’s easy to not internalize what this means. It’s easy to think they’ll sail back by, even though you know it’s impossible. It’s easy to think they’re just out of sight over the horizon line, not sunk to the bottom of the ocean floor.

But the reality is that they’re gone. And they aren’t coming back. And often you don’t find out they’re gone until weeks, months, years after the fact, when it’s far too late to send a radio signal and ask them to sail your way again after so many years apart.

All we can do is try not to let that happen.

If you want to hear from someone: reach out. Send the signal. Hail for help. Don’t let them sail away over the horizon line without realizing it. Hold the lines tight, especially if there are signs of a storm in the distance.

I wish I’d thought to do that sooner.

[pokemon-ash-aus]

False!Twin AU: WIP

Log 1:

Several amounts of ancient DNA have been pressed along our path, coding points to an unknown pokemon with DNA matching to several species we currently have.

According to directors, our best bet is to try and recreate it in order to find out if this is the pokemon we need.

Log 2:

After several failures and multiple sleepless nights, we have finally manipulated the DNA enough to incubate an egg.

We've also extracted enough to try and create incubated fetuses within test Tubes.

Here's to hoping our experiments are a success.

Log 8:

After several weeks, we are finally seeing progress.

As stated in log 6, the egg was a failure and released the same Ditto like pokemon that drowned. We have taken to analyzing it's body.

Professor Corduroy has taken to setting up the internal tube pokemon with several wires to take in their dilemma.

All of them are slowly taking form, they seem to be taking on that of a Meowth.

We are not optimistic.

Log 16:

All three incubators are showing wonderful progress!

We've noted that there is a heartbeat within the three and their shape is starting to take form much more.

While they originally seemed quiet similar to a meowth hatchling, we've been able to see a mass amount of differences, including the lack of a coin.

Their colors are slowly coming in, resembling that of a Jigglypuffs as opposed to the tan hide of a Meowth.

One has taken an odd blue hue, though statistics show that it is in perfect health, we will be keeping a closer eye on it.

Log 34:

After farming several vials of blood from the subjects, we found that the next morning they were gone.

Upon looking into the security footage, we don't know how they left. There is no excessive use of force, nor is there any indication of teleportation.

We can only assume that their structure has failed and they assimilated with the liquid inside.

As such, we have been given a prerogative to stabilize the DNA with several other creatures and given a batch of useless and unused DNA

Hopefully, this works.

Log 52:

The eggs are showing signs of life and several are growing well.

As a sign of good faith, I volunteered to provide human DNA in order to make a pokemon human hybrid.

There are only two that survived with my DNA and they seem to be thriving.

We have several unknown batches of DNA, some of which look similar to the human DNA mixes.

We hope one of these will be a success.

Log 60:

Another one has passed, an unfortunate little Raichu mix that sunk to the bottom of it's tank.

I watched the poor thing reach out for help.

This doesn't feel right.

Log 62:

We sent away a human DNA twin, the pinker of the two.

She's beautiful and a part of me doesn't want to send her away at all.

I feel I need sleep, as I watched her look at me as we shipped her off.

A part of my heart yearns for her to be back.

Log….

I don't know how long it's been since this project has started.

I don't know how long I can stay here and pretend everything is okay.

I believe that a part of me reaching out to these creatures is solely based on the fact that one of these things has my DNA.

They have been named.

Mewtwo, based on that one mythical pokemon.

I don't like it.

These creatures have a beating heart, they cry for someone to help.

Another dies and my heart aches.

When will this end?

Delia shakily placed the pencil down, snapping her logbook shut without another word.

She was all alone, listening to the wail of the incubated duo.

They were sick, she could hear it in their rasoy tones, could see it in the way they huffed and puffed and reached for comfort.

One of them was black, with a blue underbelly, now a sickly grey tangled in wires and trying to move.

Too sick, too weak to do anything.

The other one, the human DNA one, had once been a soft lilac, now a pale white, curling in on itself as a soft wheeze broke out it's throat.

Sick.

That's how they all died.

They had grown sick despite their insistence on keeping the laboratory clean, despite their best efforts to provide the proper vitamins and nutrients that the young pokemon needed.

Sickness was what it was.

Delia was alone, she had no experience dealing with their sickness, she was a researcher not a doctor.

Thrumming her fingers against her logbook, she pushed away from her chair, moving back to switch shifts with Jackson.

Another wail.

Her breathing stuttered, and with wide eyes she turned to look at them, just outside the camera's roaming eye.

They were just pokemon.

Just experiments.

She could hear her coworkers laughing, could hear the conversation turn teasing as they talked about families.

Another cry.

"You're just kids," Her resolve broke, guilt sinking heavily into her stomach.

That's what they were, pokemon or not.

They were children.

Dear Mew, what was she thinking!?

[wthtorke]

Incandescent (Kofi commission)

Kofi one shot commission by  Insta is day_of_mayhem! 

(I might have gone off on this one lmao Enjoy!)

Incandescent. 

The night had been quiet, the trees softly hustling against one another as the wind blew. First, it was the strange noise.

From your little house in the woods, a sharp noise rattled through your bed, making you jump up in surprise.  Running to the window, you saw what could only be described as a falling star, coming quickly towards your house.

You could barely brace yourself against the windowsill as the star ripped through the clouds, falling far into the woods. Panting and scared, you looked for any signs of it. Any burning trees, smoke, noise coming from the general direction where it fell. You found none. 

From the window, you caught sight of your truck, still parked in the driveway. Grunting to yourself, you made your decision as you grabbed a coat and the wooden axe from the fireplace, running to your car, hoping to find the fallen star before anyone else did.

Gripping the steering wheel hard enough your knuckles turned white, you drove through the path in the forest, stopping when even more strange noises reached your ears.

Stopping your car, you tilted your head slightly, trying to catch it again. Seconds passed before a sudden blast made you jump, looking into the direction a flash of light also happened. Leaving the car, you held the axe close to your chest as you slowly walked towards the noise, breathing quickly as you did.

From the trees behind you, a slick, black ridged tail moved quietly as its owner's drool fell onto the tree branches, slowly stalking towards you. 

'Hssssssss..' 

Eyes widening, you turned around in time to see a black creature jumping from the tree, arms outstretched and claws ready to tear into you. 

Falling to the ground, the creature landed heavily on you, claws grappling your axe handle as you barely had time to process its weight before shiny, sharp fangs closed itself repeatedly before your face. 

You only realized you were screaming when the creature shifted its weight to your chest, cutting your air as it reeled back to strike one final time to kill you.

Closing your eyes in fear, you could only open them again as an animalistic roar reached your ears, and then the crushing weight wasn't there anymore, a screech and a heavy, wooden thud following suit. The creature had been rammed from on top of you, instead hitting the tree it jumped from hard in its back, falling to the ground, briefly shaken. 

You took your chance to get up as well and dart between the trees, out of the creature's way. You only bothered looking for whatever had knocked it out of you when the black creature hissed into another direction, and you realized there was absolutely nothing there. 

Still, under the dim moonlight, the creature leaped into nothingness, surprisingly landing on the thin air, snapping and hissing, swinging its tail around. You watched as it tried to hit something with its piercing tail. With a roar, you jerked back as it seemed to hit its goal, whatever was beneath it started zapping and glowing with failing electrical power, soon revealing what the thing was perched on as it didn't stop its struggles for one second. 

At this point, you had come to the conclusion that they were indeed aliens, and the star was no star but probably a ship that crash landed, even if you had no idea where it was now. The stream of roaring and screaming snapped you out of your thoughts, the massive humanoid alien trying to shake the creature from it’s back as best as it could, while still trying to dodge its deadly tail.

You looked around, your fight or flight instincts screaming at you to do something, anything. Looking at the dark forest behind you, you had no idea if there were other alien serpents around or more alien warriors to help this one. It was when the serpent's tail pierced the warrior's arm and you saw bright green blood explode everywhere that you took action.

Running towards both of them with your axe in hand. 

Your decision was made as the blade of your weapon sunk into the black creature’s back, it’s startled shrill making your ears ring as it’s tail hit you hard in the chest, both making you fly a few feet back and thankfully escape it’s weird fizzing blood that you’d later come to know was pure acid. 

You shook your head as you tried to breathe again, all the air knocked out from your lungs as you landed on your back. Your vision threatened to darken as you sat up, trying to spot where the aliens were.

Slowly your ears started focusing again as did your eyes, permitting you to see that not only was the black serpent not on top of the alien warrior anymore as said warrior was about to jam it’s blades into the serpent’s throat. The most intense occurrence of all your life didn’t last more than 5 minutes it seemed.

Getting up on your wobbly feet, you noticed just about how much blood there was around the ground. You watched as the warrior clutched his side, chest rising and falling as he stared at you, and while he could absolutely kill you if he so wanted, he didn’t.

Not that you were opposed to that, of course.

You felt the adrenaline die down in your blood, the cold air finally making you shiver a bit. You looked at who you supposed was a ‘he’ and back towards the general direction of your car. If his ship had truly crashed, he was stranded. Hurt and stranded.

“Safe,” You said, pointing back where your car was, “Together…?” You questioned, montioning between you and him with your less hurt hand. He took a few moments to analyze the situation before making his decision. He was hurt, more so than he’d like to admit, but less than he’d be if you hadn’t shown up. He nods, slowly, unsure, later following you to the truck, all but hauling himself up the back of the pickup truck. ‘I’ll definitely need to hose that down in the morning.’ You thought as you saw the green blood streaks as you got into the driver's seat.

The drive back was smooth, no longer fueled by raw fear and adrenaline. You felt tired, maybe because of the bruises forming where you got hit or well, the fact that this was more action than you had since….Well, ever. Getting home, you didn’t really know why you snuck him through the garage door, you had no neighbors and no family living with you but somehow it seemed the right thing to do, he was an alien after all.

He seemed to know the concept of showering, at least. He washed all the dirt and grime off of his body and you were more than a little upset at yourself that you didn’t see him take off his mask, only noticing your mistake when he got out of the bathroom and the metal was so clean it was sparkling. 

You watched as he sat in your living room and started patching himself up. While he wasn’t bleeding profusely anymore, the roaring surely gave you chills down your spine as he plunged some kind of needle into his thigh, pumping the syringe’s contents into his system before sewing his wound shut.

You pointed at the couch and told him to make himself at home, as far as that could go, anyway. You passed out as soon as you hit the pillow, your body paying no mind to the huge alien downstairs.

The next morning, he was gone.

 As much as you were expecting it, it still felt...odd. Like some kind of fever dream. Only you knew it happened by the state of your house and garage. If you didn’t know it was an alien, you’d have thought a wild bear had wrecked your house. The floor was muddy, some things were out of place or straight up on the floor while some you couldn’t tell if they were touched at all. 

Sighing, you gathered the broom, mop and trash bags to start your new mission; Cleaning the house. 

Cleaning was usually boring, but this time it just felt restless. Even as your favorite songs played in the background. Of course, no alien could just have a slumber party in some human’s house but still, much had happened yesterday. You wondered when the government’s men were going to burst through your window and shoot a sedative up your arm because you’ve had alien interaction. 

You were cleaning the kitchen cupboards when a reflection that very much wasn't your own caught your attention in the mirror. Squinting a bit, you jumped back when your eyes focused and revealed your guest's reflection, only his position was right behind you. "FUCK-” You turned around quickly, hitting your knee in the process, ”When did you get here?! God-," You started coughing a bit from the sudden intake of air.

You looked back at him when you heard strange noises coming from his helmet, almost like someone was tuning a radio before the words became clear, recordings.

"No-, trails."

You blinked in confusion for a second before realizing what he meant, slight dread setting in your gut at the prospect that an alien could speak, or well, play recordings of english to you. "Trails-, in the forest? Wow..that’s, that’s very nice, actually, hadn’t thought of that,” you thought over your next words, taking in his huge form as you did, “You’re headed home now, I suppose?”

He shook his head, motioning to his still tender wounds from yesterday’s battle against the serpent.

The serpent.

“Oh, Um-, That thing is dead, right?”

He nodded, “Exterminated. Contained.”

Contained.

“Great, great-, well, if you’re not planning to kill me and take over my house, you’re um...very welcome to stay?” You said, a bit unsure.

He nodded, walking over silently towards your garage door, you heard rummaging around, following to see him picking up after a broken vase you didn’t remember was there.

He was a considerate roommate, you could say. Wherever this alien came from, he knew of common sense, or just had a very strict mama as he helped in the chores he could. You suspected he didn’t trust you to clean his trails properly, but you weren’t complaining of free help.

Another thing you could tell is that he learned fast. Very fast. 

He’d been skeptical of you, at first. You’d never catch him sleeping or eating, always the same passive expression of his mask looking back at you. You couldn’t blame him, but even then, it was hard not to speculate what was underneath it. Did he look like Davy Jones? The Shape? He didn’t seem to be aquatic. Maybe a lizard? His skin was mottled like one, at least. 

3 months passed by before you both had that feeling. He’d been here for too long. His wounds were beyond healed, no one had shown up for him, no government, no other aliens, nothing. You’d seen him mess with his wrist gauntlet a few times, seen him test the cloaking device he had, it worked. 

So, why was he still here?

  It was on a similar night that you met him that you mustered the courage to ask.

The stars were bright, as was the moonlight. The breeze was soft, you both sat outside for a bit, looking into the forest. He told you he feared they’d come at night. You guessed he spoke of other humans, the kind that would want to study him alive, in the name of ‘science’, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Are you waiting for your people to come get you? Have you sent a signal yet?”

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched a bit, the cold air around you prickling at your skin. “Oh-, well...have they replied?”

“Yes.”

You nodded, “So, I guess they’ll be coming soon, right?”

You waited for another robotic ‘Yes’ to hit your ears, to shatter your fantasy of living a nice life with him, somehow.

“No.”

“No?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him, “Why not?”

He turns to look at you for a second, at least you could assume he was looking at you behind the mask.

With that, he lifted his hands to the object of your speculation during the last 3 months, fingers slowly snapping off tubes that connected it to the rest of his armor with an audible ‘Fzzzzz’.

You held your breath as he hooked his fingers around the mask, snapping it off as well. He hovered the mask for a second before slowly lowering it away from his face.

You could feel your pupils dilate as you took in the sight of him, the spiky crown around his forehead, the mottling, so similar to the rest of his body, going down to his eyes, you lingered there for a moment, taking in how yellow they looked, and how they were staring directly into your own.

You gulped as you kept lowering your gaze, spotting the fangs, the tusks, the strong jaws that could very much clamp around your neck right now, if he so wanted. Everything about him screamed predator before, but now, having the last piece of the puzzle, you could only think of one word to describe him.

Perfect.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when his hand touched yours, so tender, mindful of his talons, yet still enveloping your cold ones in warmth. You looked up at him, fingers slowly squeezing his own, an attempt to show him you weren’t afraid, just stunned.

“Stay.” He said, in a much deeper voice than any he’d ever played for you before. His voice.

You only realized you were crying when the tears caught in between the crinkles of your smile, stopping their journey straight down your face, giving them a shortcut to falling down your chin, to where his other hand was raising up, gently tipping your face up, as he lowered his own, pressing your foreheads together.

“Stay.” You repeated, in a much quieter, shakier voice than his, but with every bit of intention behind it, still smiling as he squeezed your hand again.

Suddenly, the night didn’t feel nearly as cold anymore, nor did it feel as lonely as it once did.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

life is better down were it’s wetter

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again Fantasy Bakugou slaps

Mermaid! Bakugou x Deaf!Reader

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of abuse and murder, swearing, fantasy shit

word count: 1,600 (about) 

Summary: The mermaid in the hull fascinated you, funny how he wasn’t even human, but he was the only one on the ship you could connect to.

You touched the cool glass of the tank. You weren’t supposed to be down here unless it was feeding time, and you being trapped in the hull of the ship, but something about the beautiful mermaid they had captured made the dark black belly of the boat bearable. 

He turned to face you, the tank wasn’t big enough for him to swim away from you. He looked miserable and cramped. He pressed his hand flat on the other side of the glass, you swore you could feel the heat of his hand through the cold glass. Embarrassed you pulled away wrapping both hands around the broom handle where you belonged. 

Trapped. Both of you. You’d been kidnapped a few months ago and forced to work on the ship with others like you. You swept and mopped and fed the monster they had pulled up while looking for treasure. He was pretty, with tan-toned skin and a glittering tail that churned the water he swam in. you looked back at him and saw he was banging on the glass trying in vain to get your attention. He looked angry when you finally did look at him. No not angry, desperate. 

He jerked his finger up desperately at the lid of the tank. He wanted you to take it off, your heart ached for him, if you could free him you would, but they would kill you if you even tried. You shook your head, I can’t. He pointed again then banged on the lid himself making the lock jostle. He grabbed his throat covering the gills on his neck. He was drowning, you realized. You fumbled for the key in your apron pocket and clumsily unlocked the tank and popped the lid. He quickly swam to the top gulping down the air. You’d thought he’d been hungry when he swam to the top like that, but the truth was he couldn’t breathe. 

You looked around the floor of the hull and found a splintered board, on the floor.  Quickly you used it to prop the lid open. Just enough so air could go in and out but not enough for him to slip through. Shigaraki would get mad when he found out, but surely not madder than he would have been if you’d let his prize die. A dead mermaid could surely get a lot of money, but not as much as a live one, and if there was one thing you knew about your captor, he was nothing if not greedy.  The creature sunk back into the tank and faced you again, pressing his hand back to the glass, did he want you to touch there too? Hesitantly you raised your hand touching where he indicated. 

He pressed his forehead against the glass and waited for you to do the same, you glanced back at the hatch you’d come through still locked. Cautiously you lowered your head pressing your head to the glass. Your skin tingled and suddenly a voice that wasn’t yours echoed in your head 

“Took you long enough, dumbass that almost killed me,” you stumbled back in surprise looking at him in surprise and a little bit in horror. 

“Is that you?” you thought, wondering if he could even hear you like that. He smirked and nodded

“Yes, though it would be easier to talk like this,”

“And you can hear what I’m thinking?”

“Only what you think at me,” you gulped and cleared your head 

“You should thank me instead of being so rude the others would have let you drown,”  you thought and you heard a throaty laugh echo in your head, he was smiling, genuinely smiling, it made you feel surprisingly warm inside. 

“I’ll thank you by not killing you when I get out of here,” suddenly the good feeling inside of you was gone, he was joking clearly but you knew he’d never escape it was impossible. Even though you didn’t think it at him, he seemed to be able to read your expression

“I will escape,” he thought defiantly. 

“You can try,” 

You’d spent too much time down there already, as quickly as you could you made your way back to the top deck, the bright sun blinding you as you left the darkroom. Quietly you started sweeping and dusting around the ship, as your mind wandered, no one bothered you unless they were feeling mean and needed to yell at someone who wouldn’t or couldn’t rather, snapback. But everyone was in a surprisingly good mood today, so you were alone. 

The ship rocked gently back and forth as the waves passed beneath you. The salt cared about the wind hitting your face. It made you sick. You focused on the horizon centering yourself. You wondered if you could still communicate with the merman, even if you weren’t in the same room. Cautiously you reached out to him with your mind. 

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” 

“Oh,”

“Is that all?”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?” did merpeople not have names?

“What do people- er merpeople call you?”

“Katsuki,”

“Katsuki,” how strangely normal 

“What about you? What do people call you?”

“(y/n),”

“(y/n),”  the words he thought had weird lit to them, almost like an accent. 

You continued to learn about him and tell him about yourself as you worked, it was nice to have someone with you. You lingered when it was feeding time, his teeth were sharp, they tore through the fish you gave him easily, leaving nothing, not even the bones his pupils dilated as blood filled the water filling his red eyes almost completely. You noticed his hands were like yours in every way but instead of nails he had claws. He was dangerous, and if his internal monologue was anything to go off of he was mean. But you weren’t afraid of him. You couldn’t be, Even if he was a monster he was the only person you had connected to since you’d been brought aboard the ship. You lingered even after he’d finished eating just wanting to be with him. 

“Put your hand in the water,” he commanded, reaching his own hand up to the top of the water. “I want to touch you,”

You had to strain to reach him, your fingers barely skimmed the surface of the water, his hands were rough but warm, he traced the outline of your fingers and you saw the thin piece of webbing connecting his fingers. 

“You’re soft,” he purred internally, this wasn’t enough for either of you It had been so long since you’d been touched so gently, and it had been so long since he’d touched anyone. But it was all you could have for now. 

You’d always hated the ocean, even before you’d been kidnapped and forced on this ship, but the way he talked about it, the sunlight reflecting off the crystalline water made it sound so beautiful and you couldn’t help but start to look at the sea through his eyes. 

You were starting the last leg of your journey, soon you’d be back to the mainland and you’d lose Katsuki forever. 

“We can escape,” he responded and you realized you’d been thinking too loudly. 

“How? They’ll catch you, then they’ll kill me,”

“We’ll escape together idiot,”

“I can’t swim and you can’t walk on land,” 

“Carry me to the ship then I’ll carry you as we swim,” you bit your lower lip and clutched the mop handle. It was too risky. 

“When we dock and they’re unloading the tank I’ll trip them so you fall in the harbor,” you offered instead, not even knowing if you could do such a thing. They didn’t normally let you off the ship when they docked, it would be strange if you come now, but it would be worth it if you could free him. 

“No, I don’t want to leave without you,” your heart lurched in your chest. You couldn’t argue with that, especially when you didn’t want him to leave without you either. 

A few nights later, you took Kattsuki’s plan into action. You weren’t strong enough to carry him so you ended up dragging him across the deck in a burlap bag, that way if anyone suspected anything you could just claim it was trash you were throwing overboard. 

“You’re making me regret this he snapped after you cracked his head on the railing. 

“Sorry,”  you were trying your best but it was hard. As you communicate more and more with Katsuki you found you could understand him even stuff he didn’t necessarily want you to know. You could tell he was struggling to breathe he needed both water and air to breathe. 

“Here we go,” you warned heaving him over the side you watched him fall into the water cutting through the waves you cautiously climbed on top of the railing, your clothes billowing in the wind. You were supposed to jump. you hesitated, what if he had been lying? Just using you to escape

“Come on dumbass, jump, I’ll catch you I promise,” he called out to you. You let go of the railing falling to the sea, to him.

[triptuckers]

New In Town (part one) - Kaz Brekker

Request: nope Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: after fleeing ravka, you hope ketterdam can bring you new opportunities Warnings:  mentions of guns, violence, blood, bruises, scars, death oh boy we really are going full in and it's just the first part sjflksdflsj Word count: 2K A/N: new series alert !!!! got this idea a while back and the outline got so long I decided to make it into a series! I think this'll be about seven parts! enjoy reading! PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (all grishaverse fics): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha@story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone@aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy @tomridlessecretvampiredemigod TAG LIST (Kaz Brekker): @mufnasa @janesofia7 @stairscortana add yourself to my tag lists here (bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason!)

You liked to live on the edge. Not too much, of course, but you could never say no to a little adrenaline. Your life had always been busy, no time for slowing down.

And how could you slow down, with the skills you have?

All around Ravka, you're known as a highly skilled thief, assassin and spy. Of course, they don't know your true name. You hide your identity and make sure if you're meeting with a client, they never see your face or any other distinctive marks such as scars.

You're always on the move, going from place to place. Going wherever someone was in need your particular skillset. You never questioned their reasons, only did what needed to be done and got your payment. It was part of the job. You get instructions, do the job and don't ask questions.

Over the years, you'd grown rich with knowledge and the secrets of the most powerful men and women of your time. If only they knew how powerful you were, even without your skills. You could bring down a dozen of highly ranked political advisors, generals, counts and more, if you wanted to.

But you never threatened them like that. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. You didn't like to blackmail them. And on top of that, it was bad for business.

Sometimes you weren't very proud of the life you're living. Basically your whole identity is a lie. On some days you think you could forget it all, start a new life somewhere in Novyi Zem or the Ravkan countryside.

You had tried it once. You settled down on a farm. Your new life had lasted a week. Then it was back to business.

Even though no one knows your identity, you're famous among the tales that go around in Ravka. You can't help but to feel pride when you're in a pub and overhear some locals talking about you, having no clue you are sitting right behind them.

You try your best to hide you identity, you have to. Though you are more than capable of handling an ambush, you'd rather not have to run for your life. While your unique skill set is valued, it also made you a target.

Less than a week ago, some men had followed you after a job. You were on your way to the local inn you were staying at, when you noticed someone following you.

You pretended you didn't notice them and kept on walking. Soon after, two more men joined the first one. You could handle them. After all, you had weapons hidden all over your body. And even if they took them, you'd still be able to fight with your body.

As you were walking, making calculations on which escape route you could take, you noticed three more men in the distance. It was a small town, so it was odd for so many of them to linger at this time of night.

The only reason why they would be there, was that they were there for you. You slowly reached a hand to your hip, where two revolvers rest. But before you could even touch them, one of the men had rushed toward you and slammed you against a wall, pinning your hands to the wall next to your body.

But this is what you had trained for. This is what you had been doing all your life.

After a split second, you slammed your knee upward, into the man's stomach. He instantly released go of you as he doubled over. You kicked him again for good measure and finally pulled out your revolver.

So long for staying hidden.

You fired off a shot at the man closest to you and watched as he crumbled to the ground, clutching his chest. You shot the third man, who fell to the floor as well.

Before you could shoot the fourth, he knocked the revolver out of your hand. But you were too quick for him, you pulled out a knife and sunk it deep into his chest.

As you pulled it out of him again, sending blood everywhere, the fifth man approached you. This time, you were too slow. He slammed you into a wall again, your head hitting the stone hard.

You could feel blood slowly leaking down your cheek, and cursed under your breath. Oh, he was going to pay for that. You flung the knife, which you were still holding in your hand, through the air. It hit him in the neck.

You watches as he staggered backwards, eyes shocked as he looked at you. You pulled the knife out of his neck as the life left his eyes.

The sixth man seemed to have changed his mind after witnessing what you had done to his companions. But as he ran away, you sighed and pulled out your revolver. You couldn't leave any witnesses. Muttering a sorry to whichever Saint was listening, you pulled the trigger.

You couldn't stay in Ravka any longer. That incident had been the last in a string of people trying to ambush you. Even though they didn't know any facts about you such as your name or your age, they did know what you looked like.

Staying in Ravka would have been dangerous. You couldn't go to Fjerda, they were searching for you there as well. And you definitely didn't want to go to Shu Han. Novyi Zem seemed like the place people went to if they wanted to settle down. So, Kerch seemed like your best option.

You didn't even stop by the inn to collect your bag, knowing soon people would come to see who had fired a gun in the streets of a small town.

Instead, you went straight for Os Kervo, to get on a ship. Luckily, it wasn't a long journey, and it is still early in the morning when you arrive at the docks.

You walk around, trying to find a ship that is headed for Ketterdam and willing to take you with them, and ignoring the throbbing pain in your head. After trying three captains, the fourth one agrees to take you aboard. But only if you work on your way.

Deciding it is probably the best offer you would get, you accept.

You spend your time at sea scrubbing the floors, cleaning the glasses, fixing things and making sure the crew has enough water to drink. Part of you is a bit disappointed you have to work. You'd only been on a ship once before, and you hoped you could enjoy the sea. But the captain makes sure there are enough chores for you.

The journey takes a couple of days, but eventually you finally make it to Ketterdam, eager to get off the ship and explore the city.

You heard a lot of stories about Ketterdam, mostly hushed conversations in pubs. They were all bad. People claimed the ones that went to Ketterdam only visited the city to have fun. And by have fun they meant drinking, gambling, and visiting the pleasure houses.

But you didn't care about that. You are interested in the gangs. Most of the people who didn't like Ketterdam blamed it on the many gangs that ruled the streets. You knew the city was supposed to be controlled by the Stadwatch, but you also knew how easy it was to bribe someone with money or knowledge.

The more stories you heard about Ketterdam, the more curious you got.

When you get off the ship after thanking the captain, you take a look around you. The docks you arrived on are crawling with people.

Rich people who want to have fun, young kids with dirty faces holding out their hands for money, people waiting for loved ones to get off the ships that are arriving. You're eagerly watching all the kinds of people you pass.

As you're making your way through the crowd, you spot a few people going the opposite way. You watch them closely as they approach the rich tourists, talking about the best places to eat and offering a place to stay.

The tourists seem pleased by all the attention, but you've been taught to look at people a little differently. You see how one of the people talking to the tourists shakes a hand and slips the rich man's watch off of his wrist.

You smile to yourself as you continue walking. Ketterdam seemed like fun to you. It would be ideal for someone like you, with the skills you have and the knowledge you carry with you.

When you're out of the swarm of people on the docks, you pull out your money bag. It wasn't much, but it may be enough for a room. You start walking around the city, looking for a place to sleep that wasn't too expensive.

You try every inn you find, but with the small amount of money you have, you would only be able to rent a room for a couple of nights.

It's getting late when you enter a street with a lot of pubs. Laughter and music pours out into the street through the open doors and windows. You smile as you listen to the sounds of the night, ignoring the ache in your feet and the pain in your head.

You stop at a promising looking pub. As you're about to keep on walking, you notice a sign, telling you they have rooms you can rent. And for a reasonable price. You'd be able to rent a room for at least a couple of weeks.

You step into the pub, ignoring a man who cheerfully invites you to his table. You make for the bar and signal to the bartender.

'I saw you have rooms I can book for a couple of weeks?' you say to him.

He nods at you. 'You're lucky. Only got one left. Right above the entrance. It'll be noisy, but it's good.' he says.

'I'll take it.' you say.

The bartender nods again and reaches for something underneath the bar. Instinctively, you rest a hand on your revolver that's hidden beneath your coat. He doesn't even seem fazed by it. Maybe it's part of being Kerch.

'I'm just reaching for the keys.' he says in a calm voice.

And indeed, when he reaches out his hand, he throws a key on the bar. You let go of your revolver and reach for you money bag instead. You take the keys and hand him the money.

'This should be enough for a couple of weeks.' you say.

'Enjoy your stay.' he says, returning to serving drinks.

You look at the room number, seven. After asking someone for directions, you find the stairs that lead to the rooms.

When you get to the first floor, you see that your room is indeed right above the entrance. You unlock the door and are met by a small room.

There's only room for a bed, a small closet and a tiny desk. The bathroom is not as clean as you hoped it would be, but you'd stayed in worse rooms. And after all, you hadn't expected much from Ketterdam. For now you're just glad you have a place to sleep.

You shrug off your coat and boots, and place all of you weapons on the desk. You step into the small bathroom to wash the dried blood off of your face and comb your hair with your fingers.

After locking the door, you open the window a little. You lay down on the bed and listen to the sounds outside until you fall asleep. You already wondered what Ketterdam could offer you.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[lillywillow]

Cold Heart of the Wild

Summary: For days Bucky has been having dreams about a white wolf and a mysterious woman. What happens when his dreams become reality?

 Word Count: 2234

 Square Filled: White Wolf

 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

 Warnings: Mentions of hunting and shooting, injuries, minor mentions of death

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 Snow covered the ground in every direction Bucky looked. It crunched under his feet as he moved; where he was going, he didn’t know. Suddenly, a howl filled the air, its mournful sound sending chills down his spine. There was a flash of movement in the bare trees. Bucky followed it, catching a glimpse of a white wolf.

 The wolf stopped for him as if expecting something. Did it want him to follow? Bucky looked at it for a moment before it ran off.

 “Wait!”

 Bucky chased after the wolf, running in between frozen vegetation, trying desperately to keep up with it. He lost sight of the wolf. Feeling lost in this icy landscape, he frantically searched for any more signs of life. That’s when he saw her.

 A woman dressed in animal hide clothing. A hunter perhaps?

 “Hey!” Bucky shouted, reaching out to her.

 The woman began turning...

...

Bucky woke in a cold sweat. He had almost forgotten all about the mission he was going on that morning. As he prepared for it, he reflected on his dream. That was the sixth night in a row he’d been having dreams like that. Could that possibly mean something? There was no time to dwell too much further on the subject. Bucky had to board the jet and get ready to go.

...

 Bucky’s plane was shot down somewhere over the Alaskan wilderness. He survived the initial crash relatively unharmed but there were Hydra agents waiting on the ground. He fought and took them out but his side was badly injured. As he collapsed in the snow, he thought for sure this was where he was going to die.

 Bucky drifted in and out of consciousness but caught flashes of images.

 The sound of gunfire.

 A white wolf hovering over him.

 Being dragged on some kind of sled.

 A woman with a rifle strapped to her back.

 Bucky’s eyes opened in a jolt. The images had been so familiar to him; he expected to see the sterile environment of a Hydra lab. To his surprise, he found himself in a quaint wood cabin. There were animal hides on the bed keeping him warm.  A fireplace along a wall had a cauldron of something delicious smelling food hanging in its stony walls. A kitchen nook was off to the side of the cabin. The place was rather cosy. Bucky sat up causing pain to shoot through him. He carefully lifted his shirt to see someone had tended to his wound although now blood was seeping through the bandaging. Holding onto his side, Bucky forced himself to his feet and looked out the small window.

 Outside, he could see a woman standing in front of two crudely made graves. She was dressed exactly the same as the one that had been haunting his dreams. A sound behind him caught his attention. Slowly turning around, he saw a white wolf. He went to comment but the pain in his side became too much and he fell to his knees. The wolf went out what appeared some kind of doggy door carved through the main one. A few minutes later, the woman came in, quickly shutting the door behind her. She helped Bucky off the floor and back onto the bed. He whimpered and held up his hand which was now bloodied. She made a disapproving sound with a click on her tongue.

 “You’ve opened that wound again,” she stated. She carefully lifted his shirt once more, helping him to sit up as she cleaned and redressed the injury.

 Once she had finished and washed her hands, she went to get two bowls, filling them with whatever was in the cauldron. She came back, handing him one with a spoon.

 “Thanks,” he muttered. She nodded and sat down to eat as well. A silence fell over the pair of them.

 As Bucky ate, so many questions filled his mind. Who was this woman? Why did she save him? Why had he been dreaming about her? What did any of this have to do with the wolf? He was still very cautious.

 “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... is... we need to get out of here!” Bucky stood up but immediately fell back down in pain.

 The woman sighed and made sure his wound hadn’t once again reopened.

 “You’re safe here. Those Hydra agents won’t be around to bother us. I made sure of it...”

 Bucky froze, fear and dread suddenly sunk in.

 “H-how do you...” The woman sighed softly.

 “I was an agent of S.H.E.I.L.D. much like you. I was sent on a mission and my plane went down...”

 It dawned on Bucky why she was so familiar and it had nothing to do with his dreams.

 “You’re Y/N L/N! You were one of the best! I read your file. You went missing ten years ago. Presumed dead...”

 “And I would have been if it hadn’t been for Agnes...”

 “Who’s Agnes?”

 Y/N walked over to the window, her eyes ghosting over with memories.

 “Agnes was... one of the strongest women I have ever known. She lived here with her husband until he died. Lived here on her own for quite some time.”

 “What happened to her?”

 “Two years ago, there was a big grizzly bear... it crept up on Agnes and attacked... I did the best I could to help her and she hung in there for as long as she could... I’ve been here on my own ever since.”

 The wolf let out a huff.

 “Except for James of course,” she smiled. The wolf gave an approving noise.

 “James?” Bucky was more than a little surprised.

 “Agnes told she found him abandoned as a pup. She raised him to be I guess a sort of pet. I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen to him until his time comes.”

 “What do you mean?”

 Y/N once again sighed and tossed James a piece of meat.

 “James is getting pretty old in wolf years. Now, if he should die of natural causes I can bury him with some honour but I’ll be damned if I let some hunter take him away from me.”

 Bucky went quiet for a few moments.

 “How come... you never went back? You could have left at any time...”

 Y/N scoffed softly.

 “When I went down in that plane, it was winter, just as it is now. Every day I wondered if I was ever getting out of here and with each passing month, that hope left. Maybe they sent a search party and couldn’t find me, maybe they couldn’t be bothered, maybe the stories got to them and scared them away...”

 “Stories?” Bucky asked.

 “You see, Alaska has a sort of... Bermuda Triangle area. Planes, ships and people go missing, strange lights in the sky, strange creatures spotted... I never believed the stories but... Perhaps I’ve been without human interaction for too long,” she shrugged. “Anyway, you should get some rest. I’m going to go and hunt something for dinner. If you need anything before I go, tell me now.”

 Bucky shook his head and Y/N made him comfortable before she left with James following behind her. He had been given so much information in such a short amount of time yet he still had questions but for now he would just take some time to allow his body to heal itself.

...

 When night fell, Y/N had boarded up any areas that cold might creep in. She made another stew out of the game she hunted in the afternoon and made herself comfortable next to Bucky.

 “Wh-what are you doing?” His face flushed at their close proximity.

 “It’s below freezing outside. If you want to survive, you’ll need my body heat.”

 Bucky nodded and slowly allowed himself to relax before realising something.

 “Wait! James isn’t here! Shouldn’t he be inside with us?”

 Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness toward the animal.

 “James will be fine. Wolves have adapted to centuries of this kind of weather. He has his own little spot to sleep in nearby and he can do whatever he wants to do.”

 Bucky was a little relieved to hear that.

 “Tell me more about your life here,” he prompted.

 “What’s there to know? It’s life in the Alaskan wilderness. I hunt, I stock up on supplies, and I sleep at night...”

 “Well then tell me about Agnes. I’m sure you must some stories about her...”

 Y/N regarded him carefully for a moment.

 “Alright... but only if you tell me about you in return. You read my file back at... wherever you came from, so you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name.”

 “James Buchannan Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky.”

 Y/N let out a soft laugh, unable to believe the coincidence.

 “James and James... I guess I will have to call you Bucky to avoid confusion,” she smiled.

 The pair of them spent the night swapping stories and getting to know each other better until they eventually fell asleep. That night for the first time in a long time, Bucky had a dreamless sleep.

...

 Time went by and eventually a month had passed. Bucky and Y/N had formed a strong bond with each other in what was beginning to feel like love. Y/N wondered if this is how Agnes had felt with her husband.

 Then one day, it happened. Y/N was in her storage shed when she heard James snarling and barking. She ran out to see a helicopter appear a moment later, landing in a small clearing nearby. Bucky hobbled out of the house at the commotion. Although his injury was healing nicely, he still had some more to do.

 A few men exited the chopper and headed over to the two of you. You called James to your side to keep him from attacking the strangers but he was still on edge.

 “Buck... good to see you,” one of the men wearing a uniform went to Bucky and hugged him. Bucky hugged back.

 “Good to see you too, Steve. How’d you find me?”

 “We tracked where your jet went down. I’ve been searching for as long as I could ever since. Finally caught a break today when we saw the smoke from the chimney,” Steve replied, nodding over to the house. “Who’s this?”

 “Steve, this is Y/N. She saved my life...”

 Steve looked at her for a moment.

 “The same Y/N who went missing a decade ago?”

 “The very same...”

 “Buck, can I talk to you for a minute?”

 The pair of them went out of Y/N’s earshot but whatever they were saying, it was argumentative. After a few moments the pair walked back to her.

 “Y/N, how would you like to come back with us?” Steve reluctantly offered.

 “I... I can’t...”

 Bucky looked at her sadly.

 “I have James to think of.”

 “James is... a wolf?” Steve asked.

 “He’s not just a wolf. James is too used to humans. He’s vulnerable and a prize for hunters around here. I can’t just leave him.”

 “I see...”

 “Steve, can we have a moment alone?” Steve nodded and left the two them to have a little privacy.

 “You could stay...” Y/N said softly.

 “I wish I could but I can’t. That punk needs me... like James needs you.” His eyes filled with tears as did hers.

 “I... I really hope I’ll see you again.”

 “I do too, doll.”

 Bucky wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Y/N kissed back, holding him as close as she could. Eventually air was needed and they pulled away. Bucky gave her a communicator to keep in touch, telling her to call him if anything happened. Only after the helicopter disappeared out of sight did Y/N allow herself to cry.

...

 Six months later, Bucky finally heard back from her.

 “Hello? Bucky?”

 “Y/N! Is it really you?”

 “Y-yeah...”

 “Is everything okay? You sound upset...”

 “Um... James... passed away...”

 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry...”

 “I... I had been expecting it for a while... he hasn’t been well for days. I found him this morning. Can you... can you come and take me away? I don’t... I don’t want to die alone out here...”

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

...

 It took a lot of convincing but Bucky was allowed to go and collect Y/N. He had marked the coordinates of her cabin on a map and went there as fast as he could.

 The moment she saw him, Y/N threw herself into Bucky’s arms and sobbed. Bucky held her close and rubbed her back.

 “It’s okay, doll. I’m here now. I’ve got you. You’ve done your duty to Agnes and laid James to rest...”

 The pair stood there for a while until Y/N had calmed down enough before heading to the transport. As they flew over the Alaska wilderness, Y/N took one last look at the place for ten years she called home. She held Bucky’s hand, ready to start a new chapter of her life.

[tteokggukk]

welcome to my youtube channel → kth

✳ pairing: idol!taehyung x youtuber!reader

✳ genre: fluff, taehyung scenario, stranger to lovers, reader is an artist who posts art videos on youtube

✳ warnings: none!

✳ words: 2.9k

✳ a/n: hello, this is my second bts oneshot/scenario. i just like to write for fun but if you’d like to let me know if there’s anything i can improve on please do so! i’d love to know how to improve. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

You spoke in front of the camera. Sets of acrylic paint were spread out across the table next to a stand that held an 18x24 inch canvas. You were in the middle of making your seventeenth video, a highly requested one at that, and deep down you were ecstatic to start working on the painting.

Never in your life did you think you would ever start a YouTube account. You always considered yourself a very shy and private person, not one to go out of their way and broadcast themselves all over the internet. Your best friends, however, were two very well-known YouTubers and always found a way to include you in their videos and live streams. Somehow people liked seeing more of you, and so you were convinced by your best friends and the audience to start your own YouTube channel.

But you weren't very accustomed to bringing a camera everywhere with you to document and share whatever was happening in your daily life, you found it too awkward and you were still camera-shy, so you decided to create content in a way that would still keep you comfortable while doing something you loved.

An art channel.

Your channel blew up pretty fast. Requests started pouring in here and there. You became known for your very calm demeanor and artistic skills, so you took this as an opportunity to sell your works online as a way to earn some extra money for your future. Occasionally, you'd do lives to talk to your fans and you were happy at the support they showed you, which only encouraged you to keep making videos.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started," you told the camera, mentally telling yourself to insert the comments and messages you got in your DMs to paint this Adonis-like human being. The requests started coming in after you had an Instagram live where you did some quick sketches while playing some of your favorite songs in the back, and people noticed one of the songs you played was by him.

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand"," you spoke, adding air quotes, "I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

You started mixing different colors in your palette and showed everyone the picture for your reference.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

"Hey guys, welcome to my YouTube Channel."

Taehyung watched as you spoke in the video, looking behind you to see a bunch of art materials. The title of the video was left ambiguously, only being named most requested video, leaving him no clue on what it was you were going to create this time.

He's been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he'd subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting.

Because of your channel, he even created an anonymous YouTube account just to leave nice comments on your videos along with a private Instagram account to be able to watch your lives.

Needless to say, he didn't miss that one live where you played the song Winter Bear. It made his whole night, making him sleep with a smile on his face.

"This was a highly requested video, and I honestly can't wait to get started." 

He watched as a bunch of comments started appearing onscreen popping up one by one as they gradually got faster, eventually covering you. It took a moment before it sunk in that he was the highly requested person they wanted you to paint. He paused the video, wide-eyed, before shouting in excitement. Jimin had to come in and check what the whole commotion was about.

"Y/n's going to paint me!" Taehyung exclaimed, his mouth turning into his famous boxy smile. 

"Ah, the YouTuber you really like?" Jimin smiles before sitting down next to Taehyung who continued playing the video, "I wanna see."

"You guys also asked if I could sell this painting, but because of the "high demand", I'd like to keep it up for auction so the proceeds could go to different fundraisers."

"Wow, she seems really kind," Jimin says, while Taehyung only nods, his eyes glued to the screen.

"So, without further ado, today I will be painting Kim Taehyung."

He felt his heart beat fast when you mentioned his name, and without realizing it his ears have gone all red. 

On screen, you began sketching, "You guys have also been sending me a lot of questions lately, which is why I decided to tweet about doing a q&a."

"What questions did you ask?" Jimin asked Taehyung.

"I asked her if being an artist is something she'd like to pursue," Taehyung told him.

"Ooooh, trying to get to know her," Jimin teases, "Our little Taehyungie has a celebrity crush."

Taehyung rolls his eyes but breaks out into a grin anyway, "I just respect her artistry."

"Right, okay," Jimin snickers, obviously not buying it.

Taehyung knew he was telling the truth, though. It was impossible to have feelings for someone who you only knew through a screen. He found you attractive for sure, but he of all people would know that almost no one is completely one-hundred percent themselves on screen. Genuine as you may be, there are still things that are best kept to yourself. He couldn’t lie though, if given the chance to get to know you, he’d never pass up on that offer.

"Someone asked why I don't use that much ready-made paint," You spoke on screen, "It's ‘cause I learn a lot from mixing my own colors, and also I just really enjoy it."

The painting was beginning to come together halfway through the video and Taehyung's question finally made its way to you. "Kimyeontan95 asks, ‘is painting a career you want to pursue? I love your work, by the way’."

"That was basically I love you," Jimin holds back a laugh, earning him a light punch in the arm from Taehyung.

"Thank you so much, kimyeontan95, and no, painting is just a hobby of mine and a way to earn some future savings. I actually really want to be a novelist."

Taehyung smiled after hearing you answer his question. Later on, the video was over and his portrait was complete. He hurriedly redirected himself to the link that was provided for the auction.

Something in him wanted to have that painting no matter what, so he set himself as the highest bidder and eventually had it mailed to his home where he put your work up in his room to cherish.

A day after your video was posted, you woke up to a thousand notifications from your phone. Hundreds of people were mentioning you in tweets and you had numerous missed calls from your best friends and some texts telling you to check your online art shop. You groggily scroll through your feed, a bit confused as to what was happening.

I wanted to buy this painting and I had it in my list, but now it's unavailable!

Y'ALL WHAT RICH KID SET THE HIGHEST BID TO A MILLION DOLLARS IM CRYING

@yourtwittername are you planning to sell a new collection?

a million dollar bid wtf swownwowksodiowl

Someone just bought all of @yourtwitterusername's paintings. I'm crying in broke eye—

but like what if taehyung set that bid? @yourtwitterusername

What?

I just woke up and my mentions are pouring. What is going on? You tweeted.

Thousands of replies began coming in leaving you feeling overwhelmed and confused on where to start. Everyone was telling you to check your site, and so you did. You felt your heart almost stop beating when you saw that every single artwork you had up for sale were sold out. Nothing was left behind. You checked your emails, and the confirmations were there.

How could this have happened overnight?

ALL MY WORKS ARE SOLD OUT?!?!?!?? WHO COULDVE DONET THIS??? You tweeted, hands shaking.

You felt your heart race, a wide grin that could go even wider if possible was plastered on your face. You tried to stop yourself from screaming in excitement but couldn't so you ended up jumping up and down and doing happy dances before calming down to assess the situation. Finally, you sat down in front of your laptop to see where all your works were being shipped to.

Replies started coming in.

CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT

WILL U RESTOCK

AHSKWJOA CONGRATS BB

I'M SO HAPPY FOR U

BUT Y/N WHO BOUGHT THEM ALL

Checking your emails, you discover that your art works were all bought by one person. Anonymous. There was no name and someone requested to have their personal information redacted. 

Anonymous? Surely this wasn't a joke?

The person kept their name anonymous. You tweeted and muted the notifications just to allow yourself to focus on finding out who it was that bought everything.

At the bottom of all the removed personal information, there was one username that you were sure you've heard or seen somewhere.

@ Kimyeontan95. 

Underneath the username was a short but sincere message.

"Your videos have always helped me wind down after a long, busy day. I can't express how much you inspire me with your talent and how I wish someday you'd teach me to be half as good as you, as I'm not very gifted in the painting department. I admire how you put your gifts into good things, and I very much idolize you in one way or another. This is just a small way of showing my support for you, but also because all your works are amazing and I'd love to have a small room filled with my favorite art works. I look forward to reading works of yours soon, future novelist.”

Feeling the heat creeping up on your cheeks, you smiled to yourself. The letter was definitely heartfelt and you wanted so badly to thank the person who sent it.

Later that afternoon, you decided to go on live to personally thank the anonymous buyer for buying your works and for sending that wonderful note. You fixed yourself up a little bit and pressed live as thousands of your followers began to tune in.

"Hello, everyone," you greeted, smiling. Replies with greetings started coming in and you couldn't help but chuckle at the eager messages your followers were sending. They truly made you happy.

As expected, several questions began pouring in.

"Right, so, I wanted to do this live because of what happened. As you may have noticed, all my works were suddenly sold out which definitely took me by surprise," you started, "Unfortunately the buyer left everything anonymous. They only left what I assume is a username and a short letter, which I will keep to myself for personal reasons."

@follower1WHAT

@follower2 will you keep selling your works?

@follower3 THATS SUCH A SWEET GESTURE THO OMG/

@follower4 am I the only one who thinks a secret admirer bought it

@follower5 check my YouTube channel I made a theory on who bought her works

@follower6 i rlly think it's taehyung

@follower7 I’'m so proud of you :(((

"If the person who bought all of my paintings is watching this, I really want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate the letter as well, you've honestly made me the happiest person on Earth," you smiled.

@follower8 AWWWWW

@follower9 ANON COME OUT

@follower10 i really wanna know what the letter says

@ Kimyeontan95 I'm glad :)

Your heart stopped at one of the replies. You took your phone immediately from its fixed position with wide eyes and began scrolling up fast because of the immediate replies coming in. Wasn't that the username?

@follower11 what's going on?

@follower12 y/n are you okay?

You could no longer find the reply so you set your phone down, fixing it back in place.

"For a second I thought the person who bought it was watching my live," you sighed and smiled nervously, "So anyways— I'd really love to express my gratitude so if they're watching, please contact me. I can't say thank you en—"

Suddenly the replies were frantic. People were sending keyboard smashes here and there. Only a few of them were actual coherent comments. "What is going on?" You asked as you began scrolling through.

@follower13 Y/N CHECK VLIVE

@follower14 TaEHYUNF IS ON LIVE

@follower15 I kNEW IT THOUGH???

@follower16 Y/N CHECK TAEHYUNGS LIVE

@follower5 Y'ALL I WAS RIGHT I SAID CHECK MY YT

Keeping your live on, you grabbed your laptop as fast as you could to check out the links being sent to your live. When it finally loaded, you could've sworn you'd have a heart attack. 

"Oh, I think she's watching me," Taehyung grinned through his live, holding his phone in front of the camera. He quickly shows the viewers his phone screen, which showed your live of you watching him through your laptop. Your eyes widened and you looked back at your phone camera that was broadcasting your live, then back at his live.

Taehyung started giggling, "I guess we're just watching each other, huh?" He smiled. Behind him were packed and unpacked parcels of paintings you recognized were yours. If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider at this, "Oh my god," you breathed out.

"I should probably introduce myself," Taehyung spoke, "Hello everyone, I'm Kim Taehyung. How are you all doing? Today I’m planning on redecorating my room after our practice. What are the packages behind me? Oh, these are paintings I recently bought."

"Are those my paintings?" You asked out loud, though you knew the answer. 

"Are those my paintings?" Your voice echoed from Taehyung's broadcast as your live was streaming from his phone. He grinned sheepishly, "Yes, these are your works, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," You smiled, "You were the buyer?" 

You mentally slapped yourself for asking such obvious questions, but you just couldn't believe everything that was happening now.

"Yes," he chuckles, "I really love your paintings." Suddenly the sound of Jimin’s voice echoed from behind and Taehyung quickly stood up to lock the door, knowing he’d get the teasing of a lifetime if Jimin came and saw him talking to you.

"Thank you so much, I—" Your voice began to crack and your eyes welled with tears that you tried to fight back, "I really appreciate it. And the letter, that was really sweet."

"No, thank you. Wait, don't cry—" Taehyung spoke nervously.

"I'm just so happy," You laughed while wiping the tears off.

The replies from both ends were coming in like crazy. On one hand, majority of everyone watching found the whole scenario cute and started pairing you two out of nowhere, though there were a few haters on the other. It didn't really bother you, you were just so happy someone you idolized noticed your work.

"I'm glad," he was watching you with a fond smile through his phone, then the sound of the Jin’s voice began coming from outside Taehyung’s room, "Sorry for this sudden grand reveal. I really can't stay on live for too long but I'd love to keep talking to you." He spoke.

"Oh no, that's okay," You spoke fast.

"Do you mind if I send you a message? Assuming you already know the username," he asks.

"No not at all, I'd love to keep talking as well," your heart was beating erratically now. You didn't have to see your face to know how red it was becoming.

"Alright, great. Um, before I end this vlive I just wanna say you're a great artist and to all my viewers watching this, please support y/n's artworks and her channel! If I see any negative comments, I'll be taking responsibility and I'll unfortunately have my agency involved in taking those out," he spoke in a commercial tone kind of voice, "And to y/n, I'll be keeping in touch.” The door from behind him suddenly bursts open and Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook rush inside.

“You were talking to her!” Jimin shouts excitedly.

“Finally!” Jungkook claps.

“Is that why you kept the door locked?” Jin teases.

“Bye, everyone!" Taehyung quickly waves goodbye to the camera and smiles before turning the broadcast off. 

You sat there stunned, almost forgetting you were also on live. You turned to your phone which was still recording you, "That was unexpected."

Suddenly, a notification in your DMs popped up. "I'll go ahead and process everything that just happened now, bye guys! See you in my next video." You ended the live with a wave and smile.

You quickly went into your direct messages and found the same username, Kimyeontan95. You opened it and found a picture of Taehyung holding one of your paintings with a peace sign on his other hand, the other members behind him posing with your other works, making you laugh.

Your heart fluttered at the message below the picture.

I hope this isn't too sudden, but would you like to go out with me sometime?

a/n: hello! if you finished it, thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it hehe. i think i’m gonna keep posting the stuff i write bc i have so many ideas for the other members as well. also this is fun hehe. if you wanna read my other work, let’s fall in love for the night, ← here’s a link! thanks again for reading and please look forward to my future writing/edits.

[faeroviolet]

IMPORTANT NOTE:

I'm not in the mood to do this with the original characters. That's why I'm doing this with their versions of my AU: MargeantAU. So each work won't be just a art, but a plot part. Although this ship is not canon.

Day 1: "There’s a first time for everything"[FNK week(MG edit)]

Credit: challenge by @help-im-a-gay-fish Nightmare by jokublog Ccino by black-nyanko Killer by rahafwabas MargeantAU by me

Fluffynightkiller is not a canon, but it's cute.

Once... I'll write a fanfic about how they met. It will be such angsty blood angst, and I have already thought out its plot uwu

And for today's prompt, I have not only art, but a story to it.

(I want to warn you that I am not responsible in any way for what is written below. So read, don't read, I don't care. There may also be some mistakes here, because I wrote this right now.)

This is the story of how Nightmare and Killer decided to have a picnic for the shitty Ccino, who hasn't slept for a whole week. They should have kicked his ass for treating himself so badly, but his health is already bad, so they decided to scold him later. Now it was important to help him get some rest, maybe even he would get some sleep.

Interesting, but this will be their first time together after entering a relationship. Despite the fact that Killer and Nightmare were already in a relationship between each other, this didn't interfere with them. They were both madly in love with Ccino, he sunk into their souls. However, this wasn't so surprising considering who he is. Although his abilities didn't affect this. It was just love. Delicate and strong. Able to make them do anything for a fragile miracle.

Now they were just passing near the hometown of their beloved. They decided to have a picnic in here because it would be difficult and suspicious to do near Sunapple. Having found a suitable field and a place near the tree(so that there was a shade if it gets hotter), they began to unfold. Nightmare, who carried a purple velvet carpet with yellow fringes all the way, laid it out here. And Killer, waiting for him to finish, then put the basket on it.

You ask: why a carpet? It's just that nothing else was found in the castle. And Nightmare didn't want to ask Dream to help in this.

"Do you think he will like the food?" Killer asked, sitting down next to the basket.

"Hmm... maybe he'll eat the cheese and ham sandwiches." Nightmare said thoughtfully, leaning his elbows on a tree trunk. "As for souls, I don’t know. He rarely talks about this, as well as about his preferences, trying to avoid difficult topics."

"And that's true. But... we took different variations." Killer nodded. "I hope Horror won't be offended that we robbed him like that."

"He won't dare." Nightmare said seriously. "I am your 'patron' and you have no right to contradict me. So if he is unhappy, he will not be able to do anything."

Without answering, Killer only directed his gaze towards the forest. They have already informed their loved one that they will come. And oddly enough, he agreed to a meeting. Therefore, all that remained was to wait.

They didn't wait long: a familiar face appeared from the trunk. Although the face was familiar, this face only wished for the best. The huge gray spots didn't adorn this skeleton much. But the guys didn't know how to make him stop torturing himself like that, but they could only help to heal. Even so.

They went to meet Ccino, who decided to please them with his smile. Although with "something" under his eye sockets, this smile could hardly please them. But Nightmare and Killer weren't angry, they just took him and led him to their picnic area. When he was just grabbed and dragged to the tree, Ccino became a little embarrassed and covered with a faint blush.

"Here, Cсino, we brought sandwiches and some fruit." Nightmare said, pointing to a basket containing said foods. "Only... we didn't know what kind of soul you wanted..."

"S-soul?!" He roused himself, displaying horror on his face. Ccino didn’t like it, even though he was also a demon, but he didn’t like to feed on souls. After that, he always feels bad. Well, as if he didn't use them either. Such a tangled loop constantly comes out. "I...I...I..."

Cсino began to breathe quickly and covered his face with his hands, hiding the tears flowing from his eye sockets. And Nightmare, very frightened, just froze in place like a statue, not knowing what to do. Just not that - to upset him. He didn't expect that this is such... a deep and painful topic for him.

However, there was still a way out in this situation. And Killer found him. While Nightmare stood like an idol, he walked a little further into a field where many flowers grew. He collected a couple of flowers and weaved three wonderful wreaths. Yes, he could do it, and there was nothing surprising in it. After all, he learned this from his mother, whom he loved very much.

When he returned, Killer tried to bring the guys to his senses. First, he lifted Ccino, who didn't resist at all, but still was not fine. He brought Night out of his stupor by patting him on the shoulder.

"Wear." In a commanding tone, Killer turned to his Lord, holding out a flower decoration.

"A-are you... kidding me?!" Such insolence pissed off Nightmare. Forgetting about what was happening, he was ready to commit a rash act, but...

"For Ccino's sake."

Only this made the Lord of Dark senses, startled, to stop raging. He turned his gaze to Ccino, who was nearby, and gritting his teeth agreed.

"Okay." He took a cute little wreath and decorated his skull with it, blushing like a tomato, and then, pouting, sat down on the carpet. Oh, it was even cutier than the wreath itself! Was Nightmare so embarrassed by such simple gifts, Killer thought. But now is not about that. Ccino should have been reassured.

"Ccino, look at Nightmare." Killer shook him and looked into almost empty eyes. Still, Ccino paid attention and looked in the direction in which he was indicated. "Isn't he handsome? Especially in this wreath! Do you want the same? Do you like flowers?"

"The w-wreath?" He quietly raised his voice. "I love flowers, collecting them, they're beautiful. And, unfortunately, I don't know how to weave wreaths, and-"

"O! Then I can teach you later. Now... would you mind sitting next to that glowing mean bean, and I will reward you with the most beautiful crown in the world?"

"Umm... O-okay." Ccino staggered a little to the indicated place and settled down next to another skeleton.

Killer jumped up to him like a bunny, and he was already holding a wreath prepared especially for Ccino. He put it on a cute skeleton that blushed very hard in the process. It was amusing.

Killer didn't deprive himself either. Now all three were in flowers. Together. They will have something to remember. But the main thing was that Ccino liked it.

Это история о том, как Найтмер и Киллер решили устроить пикник для чертова Чино, который не спал уже целую неделю. Им бы следовало надрать ему задницу за такое плохое отношение к себе, но его здоровье и так плохое, поэтому они решили отругать его позже. Сейчас было важно помочь ему немного отдохнуть, может даже он и поспит хоть чуть-чуть.

Интересно, но это будет их первое времяпровождение вместе после вступления в отношения. Несмотря на то, что Киллер и Найтмер и так были в отношениях между друг другом, это не мешало им. Они оба безумно любили Чино, он запал им в душу. Однако это было не так удивительно, учитывая, кем он является. Хотя его способности на это и не влияли. Это была просто любовь. Нежная и крепкая. Способная заставить их сделать все ради хрупкого чуда.

Сейчас они как раз проходили около родного города их возлюбленного. Они решили устроить пикник в здесь, потому что это было бы сложно и подозрительно делать возле Санапли. Найдя подходящую полянку и место возле дерева(чтобы был тенёк, если станет печь), они стали раскладываться. ��айтмер, который всю дорогу нес фиолетовый бархатный ковер с желтой бахромой, разложил его здесь. А Киллер, ожидающий того, как тот закончит, потом положил на него корзинку.

Вы вот спросите: почему ковер? Просто в замке ничего более не нашлось. А просить Дрима в этом помочь Найтмер не желал.

- Как ты думаешь, а ему понравится еда? - спросил Киллер, усаживаясь рядом с корзиной.

- Хм... может сэндвичи с сыром и колбаcкой он съест - задумчиво проговорил Найтмер, облокотившись на ствол дерева. - А по поводу душ - не знаю. Он редко говорит об этом, как и о своих предпочтениях, пытаясь избежать тяжелых тем.

- И то верно. Но... мы же разные взяли - кивнул Киллер. - Надеюсь Хоррор не обидится, что мы его так обокрали.

- А он не посмеет - серьезно сказал Найтмер. - Я ваш "покровитель" и вы не имеете право перечить мне. Так что будь он недоволен - сделать ничего не сможет.

Не ответив, Киллер лишь направил свой взор в сторону леса. Они уже сообщили их любимому, что придут. И как ни странно, тот согласился на встречу. Поэтому оставалось лишь ждать.

Ждали они не долго: из ствола показалось знакомое личико. Хоть личико и было знакомым, но вид у этого личика желал лишь лучшего. Огромные такие серые следы не слишком украшали этого скелета. Но ребята не знали, как заставить того прекратить себя так истязать, но могли лишь помочь исцелиться. Хотя бы так.

Они пошли на встречу Чино, который решил их обрадовать своей улыбкой. Хотя с "кое-чем" под его глазницами эта улыбка вряд ли могла их обрадовать. Но Найтмер и Киллер не сердились, они просто взяли и повели его к их обустроенному для пикника месту. Когда того схватили просто так и потащили к дереву, Чино немного засмущался и покрылся слабым румянцем.

- Вот, Чино, мы принесли сэндвичи и некоторые фрукты - сказал Найтмер, указывая на корзинку, в которой хранятся указанные продукты. - Только... мы не знали, какие бы ты души хотел...

- Д-души?! - встрепенулся тот, отобразив на лице ужас. Чино не любил это, хоть он тоже был демоном, но он не любил питаться душами. Ему поcле этого всегда плохо. Как и если бы он не употреблял их. Постоянно выходит такая запутанная петля. - Я... я... я...

Чино начал часто дышать и закрывать лицо руками, скрывая выступающие из глазниц слезы. А Найтмер, сильно перепугавшись, лишь застыл на месте как статуя, не зная, что и делать. Только этого не хватало - расстроить его. Это он совсем не ожидал, что это настолько... глубокая и больная тема для него.

Однако все же нашелся выход в этой ситуации. И нашел его Киллер. Пока Найтмер стоял как истукан, тот отошел чуть дальше на полянку где росло множество цветов. Насобирал парочку и сплел три чудесных венка. Да, он это умел, и в этом не было ничего удивительного. Ведь научился этому он от своей мама, которую очень любил.

Вернувшись, Киллер попытался привести ребят в себя. Сначала он поднял Чино, который совсем не сопротивлялся, но все ещё был не в порядке. Вывел из ступора Найта, похлопав того по плечу.

- Надень - приказным тоном Киллер обратился к своему повелителю, протягивая цветочное украшение.

- Т-ты что... издеваешься?! - такая дерзость вывела Найтмера из себя. Забывшись о происходящим, он был готов совершить опрометчивый поступок, но...

- Ради Чино.

Только это заставило Повелителя темных чувств, вздрогнув, прекратить бесится. Он перевел взгляд на Чино, который находился рядом, и, скрепя зубами, согласился.

- Ладно - он взял миленький веночек и украсил им свой череп, краснея при этом, как помидорка, а потом, надувшись, сел на ковер. О, да это было даже милее, чем сам венок! Неужели Найтмера так смущали такие простые подарки, подумал Киллер. Но сейчас не об этом. Надо было успокоить Чино.

- Чино, смотри на Найтмера - Киллер потряс того и заглянул в почти что пустые глаза. Но все же Чино обратил внимание и посмотрел в ту сторону, в которую ему указали. - Правда он красивый? Особенно в этом венке! Хочешь такой же? Тебе нравятся цветы?

- В-венок? - тихо подал голос тот. - Я люблю цветы, собирать их, они красивые. А венки я не умею, к сожалению, плести, и-

- О! Тогда я могу тебя по-позже научить. А сейчас... ты не против сесть рядом с вон той светящейся букой, и я тебя награжу красивейшей на свете короной?

- Аамм... л-ладно - Чино немного шатающиеся поплелся в указанное место и расположился рядом с другим скелетом.

Киллер прискакал за ним, как зайчик, и уже держал приготовленный специально для Чино венок. Он надел это на милого скелета, который очень сильно заливался румянцем в процессе. Это забавляло.

Киллер не обделил и себя. Теперь все трое были в цветах. Вместе. У них будет, что вспомнить. Но главное, что Чино понравилось.