#but ho boy is this the bottom of the barrel

[scribbledquillz]

WIP Whenever

Because sometimes you just wanna share. 😌

Tagging: @siriskulksnerding , @heniareth , @wild-houseplant , @oxygenforthewicked and anyone else who wants in. As always no pressure to participate - but tag me if you do, I wanna see!

This is from the next chapter of my main Revka x Zevran compilation fic. With any luck it will be posted in the next few days. 🤞

Were she any other mark, were this any other moment than now, he would have laughed in the face of such a farce. Was this truly all the Wardens’ famed order had left to offer? Her savagery was impressive, yes, and her willingness to face him alone commendable, if not wise. But where was the artistry? The carefully honed skill her order claimed capable of pushing back the very Blight itself? Not here in this woman, certainly. Brasca - had he desired to die in no better than a tavern brawl, he might have saved himself the trouble and allowed Karrok the chance to claim her contract for his own. 

[tinyluvs]

Rafe and reader arguing and she flashes him to end the argument and win it

i’ve won many an argument doing this so 🌝 *mdni!*

the door of the cameron house slams and you flinch, your eyes widening as you turn to the sound of the footsteps rapidly approaching. rafe barrels into the kitchen looking, for lack of a better word, mad

“oh boy” you mutter to yourself before slapping a sickly sweet smile on your face, “hi baby, how’re you?”

rafe raises an eyebrow at you. the breakfast bar counter separates the two of you, “don’t baby me right now” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest

you know exactly what you did but just in case he’s mad over something else, you don’t admit to anything. “why?” you ask with a slight pout and a tilt of your head

your boyfriend rubs a hand over his face and sighs deeply, “so i was at the country club,” he starts and you hum, “heard some talk about things you’d said”

he knows. you mentally curse, rapidly trying to come up with something to get you out of trouble but nothing springs into action fast enough for you

“do you have any idea what trouble you’ll start if you start saying that shit?” rafe hisses at you, his hands planting onto the counter as he leans towards you

stupidly, you’d got a little drunk and gone on a rather long, rambling, tangent about how fucked the island system is. the way the pogue’s have no electricity or running water sometimes and the kook’s never have any issues

you frown, “but it’s true! kie was telling me ho-”

“i don’t care what kie said! i’m talking about you and what you said” rafe cuts you off, raising his voice over yours, “it’s the fucking country club, full of kooks” he points out

a sigh tumbles past your lips and your hand swipes through your hair, “so i can talk about it, just not at the country club?” you shoot back with an attitude

rafe stares at you, “just don’t talk about it at all for a while, okay?” he huffs, standing back up straight. even with the counter between you, he has to look down at you, his eyes burning into yours

“okay, god, i’m sorry” you roll your eyes but you realise that was a mistake when he growls, deep in his chest

he turns away from you, pacing up and down in the kitchen, “but you’re not sorry because you do this all the fucking time” he starts to ramble, “you’re my girlfriend, you live here with me an-”

you drown him out. watching him stop in front of the glass doors that lead out onto the patio. he rubs at his jaw as he continues to talk

“it’s not that deep, rafe” you mumble and drum your fingers off of the counter, “i won’t talk about it”

rafe doesn’t even acknowledge you talking, his rant continuing, his words louder than yours, “it makes my family look bad, my girlfriend going around talking about how we live and how it’s unfair to pogues, god!”

sighing deeply, you start to slide your fingers under the hem of your crop top, inching it up until you’re exposing your tits. your nipples perk up and you cross your arms underneath your boobs

still rafe doesn’t notice, “so stupid, this is how the island works, the kooks and the fucking pogues and it only works that way becau-”

“because what?”

he turns, finally. his words dying on his tongue as his eyes immediately draw to your chest. he licks over his bottom lip, watching your hand ghost over the swell of your tit and up to your neck

“because what, rafe?” you repeat yourself, challenging him even though you know you’ve won. his eyes darken and he moves around the breakfast bar, still leaving enough space between you

puffing his cheeks out, he admits defeat, “doesn’t matter” he grumbles. lust outweighs his annoyance for your argument ending tactics

you smirk, “didn’t think so,” you hum smugly. he closes the distance between you, hand sliding up your side until his thumb is brushing against your nipple

he bends and uses his free hand to pull your leg up, forcing you to jump, legs wrapping around his waist, “don’t do it again,” he mumbles against your neck, shifting you higher up his body so he can trail his lips down to your tit

“hmm, it’s quite fun winning the argument though” you snicker and push your tongue between your lips, titling your head back slightly.

his hand slaps against the your asscheek, his teeth grazing harshly against your nipple, causing you to cry out, something between a moan and a shout.

“don’t push it” he warns but you will, because the after argument sex always leaves you bruised and marked and so, so full and you’re too addicted to it

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

[gyozumaki]

I yapped at my boyfriend about this now y'all are my next victim. I present to you...

Can I beat up a bunny?

A tier list on whether or not I can win a fight against various rabbit animatronics from the FNAF franchise as a measly 5'7" twink 💪

EXCLUSIONS are as follows: UCN, Help Wanted 1+2, AR, FNAF World, The Entity from Ruin, Twisted Bonnie from the books (FUCK THE FNAF BOOKS)

At the bottom we have RWQ/Shadow Bonnie and Glamrock Bonnie. We have a literal shadow and a dead bitch, this isn't even a fight

Next is Springbonnie. There's a non-zero chance of getting hurt but that chance is very very low.

Possibly controversial but now we go onto Glitchtrap. Man is NOT a challenge. Take off the VR or just don't follow him? And he's code. What's he gonna do, swat me?

Oh Plushtrap. Easy fuckin peasy. Flashbang and throw him into a wall. He's a little guy, nothing too scary about him if you're above the age of seven. The teeth may leave a mark but he has ears to pick him up with and toss across the hallway.

I'm tying Nightmare and Jack'O'Bonnie together since they're basically the same. Flashlight, easy. Or maybe just lock the door. Probably also a hot take but just think on it.

Peepaw Afton aka Burntrap. I fucking hate Security Breach and this mf is one of the main reasons why. Sneeze at him, throw a bin at him, he's down easy. Does he even have a jumpscare?? There's a reason everyone in the fandom makes fun of him, including yours truly.

Bon-Bon and Bonnet are easy on their own, easier than Plushtrap, but the presence of one or both implies Funtime Freddy is nearby. I'm not fighting Funtime Freddy. Fuck that.

Scraptrap, probably my least favorite design as an Afton enjoyer (comic and pinkypills designs exist). I'll hand it to him, he has lots of sharp edges and could probably strangle me but he shouldn't be the most difficult to fight. He at least has a jumpscare 🤷‍♂️

We're moving up significantly with Toy Bonnie. If I can avoid him, I will. With a Freddy head, I'll probably be fine but without that, I would probably walk away with some bruises. A lot of bruises. Maybe a broken sternum as well. Yikes.

Movie Afton aka The Yellow Rabbit! I had no idea where else to put him because if you know what to do, he's easy to get rid of, but you're kinda fucked if you don't know how to kill him. He can also RUN?? Absolutely NOT. Fuck that, he's probably beating my ass into the pavement.

Now we get back to the classic Bonnie of the nearly ten years old Five Nights at Freddy's. Ho boy I'm old. He's almost always the first to leave, he's fast, he's a pain to deal with. I'm not fighting this guy. I'm running out of there.

Springtrap, objectively one of THE BEST designs in the series. Too bad FNAF 3 kinda sucks. I may have problems but I'm not delusional. Anyway, I have a near-zero chance of survival. He's tough, agile, can probably also barrel down hallways, and he's a little silly in the head from being trapped in a musty room to rot for 30 years. Does his jumpscare suck? Yeah. But can he annihilate me? Oh yeah.

Now finally, we have the number one Bonnie I would not win a fight against in any universe: Withered Bonnie. Yeah no, I'm gone. It's game. Not a chance in hell. He has one arm and no face but can rock your shit into the next dimension.

BONUS ROUND!!

Withered Bonnie may end it for the OG games but I love me some fan-games. I would like to introduce you to three more entries that make Withered Bonnie look easy to deal with.

Ignited Springtrap - The Joy of Creation: Halloween Edition. Once he sees you, you better pray you can outrun him. There is almost no hiding, no second chances, and mercy. This game has genuinely scared me on many occasions.

Bonnie - JR's. Haunted? Probably dead. Sanity run dry? Certain death. JR's is multitasking to the extreme and Bonnie, while not being all that different from the rest of the cast, is still an intimidating force. But there is one more that takes the cake.

Ignited Bonnie - The Joy of Creation: Reborn & Story Mode. He needs no introduction. Withered Bonnie with a nasty temperament. He sees you? You're dead. His jumpscare animation is one of my all time favorites. Relentless, brutal, speed king who is Benadryl overdose incarnate.

That's about it, thank you for coming to my yap sesh

Edit: I FORGOT ROCKSTAR BONNIE AND INTO THE PIT SPRINGBONNIE FUUUUCKKKK

[angelmichelangelo]

i’m brainworming about your human au for the 100 prompts could i get #10 with raph and leo? (not romantic i just love leo and raph fluff as much as i love angst and that line could go many ways all of which i love).

- anon that eated your au a bit ago

have some human au on me anon. bon appetit <3 hehe

x

There’s the sound of furious thumbs jabbing against buttons. It’s been a while since Mikey’s commentary on their game had died down, instead conserving his energy to fully focus now that the title of Ultimate Champion of Mario Kart was so close to being his. Leo watches on with delight, back pressed up against the bottom of the couch, it allows Donnie to swing his legs over his shoulders, nudging him with the heel of his foot as he too engrossed himself in spectating over his brother’s battle to the end, all while Donnie practices little braids dotted around his hair without care. “No way. No, no, no, no.” Mikey’s gone from being cross legged on the floor to fully standing now, earning a series of complaints from both Leo and Donnie who shove him out of the way so they can see. Their TV screen is only small, but all focus in the room has gravitated towards it for this moment. Raph’s killing it. And he knows he is. There’s a wicked grin creeping across his face. He’s got a red shell in his arsonary. Oh ho. Leo chuckles to himself as he watches Raph close the gap between them, hot on Mikey’s poor, unsuspecting tail. It’s all over now. Raph launches, just as they both come into view of the finish line. It’s cruel. Unlawful, one might argue, but it doesn’t matter now. The petty crime sends Mikey’s into a spin and Raph shoots past him, bumping up to second, and then first after he knocks Rosalina off thee track and onto the green. 

“Ah ha! Yes!” Raph roars, jumping to his feet. Mikey’s still gawping at the TV screen, clutching the controllers like it’s the only thing gravitating him to the earth. “I win!” Raph cheers, circling his younger brother, jutting his leg out to shove his dirtied socked foot in his face right under his nose, Mikey doesn’t even have the energy to bat them away properly, instead choosing to mournfully lilt from side to side. “You lose! You lose, ha ha!”Donnie chortles. Leo goes to stand but Mikey is quicker. And because Mikey is ten still as opposed to Raph’s thirteen, he takes it all very personally. “That’s not fair!” He cries, his face screwing up with anger. Raph just smirks. “Life ain’t fair. Suck it.” Mikey doesn’t take very kindly to that, his face going a shade darker and oh boy, Leo knows what’s coming next. He lets out a guttural growl, like a warning sign and then comes the floods of tears. It doesn’t stop there, however, the smaller boy barreling towards his brother, he uses his smaller stature to his advantage, cannonballing right into his middle it seems to knock all the wind out of Raph at once. The controllers are on the floor, discarded and disgraced, Donnie’s hauling himself up to grab at them before they get broken whilst Leo is getting up to separate his brothers. Mikey’s got Raph’s hoodie strings in a tight clasp, as if some attempt to choke him out, whereas Raph’s got a fistful of Mikey’s twist outs in his, which okay, too far, Leo thinks bitterly, they saved up a lot of money to get his hair done and he wasn’t having his baby brother walking around with a bald spot over a stupid game of Mario Kart.

He wedges himself between each brother prying them apart, he’s able to separate them, barely as they continue to go at each other. “Alright, alright!” Leo calls out over their squabbling, holding them both at arms length. “Quit it.” Mikey, who’s still got a face full of fresh tears and something murderous written across his face hiccups a sob. “Leo!” He whines. He’s pulling out all the stops on this one. “Leo, tell Raph to stop being so mean! Tell him!” Raph scoffs. In fact, despite the beat down he got, he seems to be enjoying all of this quite a lot, Possibly more than the video game. “Mike, can it. Raph was just messing. It’s called not being such a sore loser.” Donnie snorts a laugh. “Ha. Loser.” Mikey wails, all dramatics, Leo gives him the smallest of shoves to tell him to knock it off. Mikey does exactly that when he realizes he’s getting nowhere. “If you can’t play properly then you won’t play at all.” He’s genuinely super appreciative that April’s mom got them the game for Hanukkah but… yeah. This was going to be a problem. For most of their childhood they only had Monopoly and Snakes and Ladders and even those games tended to get heated. “No, I’ll be good,” Mikey is quick to change his tune, wrapping his arms around the length of Leo’s. “Sorry.” He says in a rush. “Sorry Raph.” Raph just rolls his eyes. “You fight like you play.” There’s a beat and Leo knows exactly what’s coming. “Like shit.” That sets Mikey off again, growling and sobbing, trying to somehow break through Leo to get to Raph. Donnie is uninterested, picking up the controller, he’s in his own little world as he studies each of the customisation options on the Donkey Kong rig.

“Who designed the physics for a go kart with barrel wheels? Just ridiculous.” Is what Leo hears him mutter under his breath rather incredulously. Leo struggles against Mikey who’s clawing and crying still. Raph’s smirk is plastered boldly across his face. “You had to set him off, didn’t you?” Leo says with a deadpan expression. Raph shrugs. “What? I was bored of beating everyone’s ass at that game. Gotta find some fun ‘round here.” Leo sighs. How was it that all his siblings ended up such devil children? And that he was solely responsible for said devil children?

“You are… really something else, aren’t you?” Leo says in disbelief. Mikey’s gone limp mode, now laying on the floor, rolling around like he’s been shot. God, ten year olds are the worst sometimes, he thinks. Raph grins, sweeping his braids out of his eyes, there’s no shame to his voice when he responds happily, “I know.”

[aquarri]

College/Uni Fics

- strawberry milk fic by Wankerville (158,027 words)

- summertime by everysingleday (18,009 words)

The bitterness between them, never far away these days, is both a barrier shielding them from the discomfort of having to deal with reality and also a symptom of their avoidance of it.

- you're shooting stars from the barrel of your eyes by devillinmybrain (20,207 words)

5 times Louis was gross hot and 1 time Harry was.

- your lips in the low light by etheralbliss (20,669 words)

Set over the course of one night, at one fateful frat party. Louis and Harry find that there are not many things they will ever need more than each other.

- Been Here All Along by therougeskimo (10,368 words)

Harry Styles somehow gets roped into being the mascot for the Syracuse University football team, and it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. That is, until his longtime crush Louis Tomlinson starts talking to him while he’s in costume.

How long can he keep his identity a secret?

- would you do it for a scoobie snack? by devilinmybrain (15,352 words)

“You know he came with us right?” Zayn rolls his eyes, gestures to his own costume, his loose khaki bell bottoms. “We’re the Mystery Incorporated. You’re literally standing there in a fucking Scooby Doo onesie. Harry begged to be Daphne and even bullied Liam to at least wear the fucking turtle neck. It’s obvious he came with the group. He’s part of the group!”

- distance can't separate my heart from yours by vineasphodel (32,457 words)

or the fic where Harry and Louis meet in a chat room. They don't mean to fall in love, but they do anyway.

- Subtletys by thinlines (32,469 words) ABO

OR Alpha Louis is trying to perfect the art of pretending not to care for his volleyball team manager. Let's all assume he isn't headed for failure.

- i can't hide from you like i hide from myself by hemakeshimstrongx (54,437 words)

[or: louis has a major problem. he's spent the better part of his teenage years fighting off feelings he never quite understood, and the first part of his uni experience running from the decisions he'd made and the damage he caused. winter break puts louis right back where it all started, and he can't run away from the problem anymore. the problem? of course, harry styles, bright eyed and as compelling as he ever was. maybe even more than before. louis is in for it.]

- I Don't Wanna Face The Music by hereforh (95,378 words)

Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different.

Until he makes these new friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get go and makes him question everything he has ever thought about himself.

- Iris by TheFoolontheHill (197,503 words)

Boy, does your life change when you realize that you've developed feelings for one of your closest friends! Harry wasn't sure if his feelings towards Louis were due to attraction or infatuation. Whatever the case may be, Harry has been through a lot in life and Louis just wants to be a good friend. They grow together and learn together but, little do they know, they need each other more than they could ever imagine.

- sunshine, baby! by staybeautiful (106,528 words)

Or Louis is in his first year of law school, Harry is a junior on the swim team dreaming of the Olympics, and they both agree that they don't have time for anything more than friends with benefits... right?

- No-one's Ever Had Me (Not Like You) by eulogiseme (35,080 words)

Or the one where Harry’s mistake results in him accidentally joining his uni’s sorority. Suddenly plunged into a world of curls, girls and frat boys, Harry is determined to spend this time exploring his identity, and making friends. Then, he finally finds a best friend in Louis: king of the football pitch, frat house and soon, Harry’s heart.

[deadpanwalking]

Linen, hot cocoa, and brown sugar (:

Linen - Do you prefer being friends with someone before starting a romantic relationship with them or starting straight into love?

This is enemies-to-lovers erasure and I won't stand for it.

Hot Cocoa - Three things you love about yourself?

Whatever my flaws may be as a friend and coworker, I always have cigarettes, Adderall, and gum on me. 

One of my stims is absently shredding paper napkins when we go out to eat; sometimes I'll look down at the end of the meal and see this tiny, perfect little bird nest by my plate.

This one time as a kid, I slept over at my friend's house, and her guinea pig got loose in the night and nibbled off my bangs.

Brown Sugar - What is making your heart warm today?

[babbushka]

Fathoms Below

Pirate Captain!Kylo Ren x Reader

17.2k ; CW: Graphic descriptions of violence, death, murder, sword fighting, blood & injury, mention of corpses, possessive behavior, NSFW (PIV, oral sex [F receiving] fingering, rough sex, praise kink)

Available on AO3

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

He can still remember it, all these years later.

He can remember the very first voyage, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, flush of excitement high on the bridge of his nose. As Kylo’s crew sails the Silencer through the calm waters of the Atlantic, he cannot help but remember. The crew know better than to question him now, lest they fancy a trip off the plank, so as the deep blue waters of the ocean split beneath the bow of his ship, Kylo climbs up to the bowsprit and straddles the long wooden post, letting out a deep breath.

The horizon is unchanging, as she ever is. Kylo squints into the orange of the setting sun, watching as the waves catch and sparkle in the froth that it makes as it breaks against the wooden hull of the vessel he has commandeered now for longer than he has lived ashore.

“Where are you?” He asks out into the waves, casts his voice as far as it will go, desperate beyond measure, sick with the want of seeing you again, as he remembers.

Oh, I bid farewell to the port and the land

And I paddle away from brave England's white sands

To search for my long ago forgotten friends

To search for the place I hear all sailers end

As the souls of the dead fill the space of my mind

I'll search without sleeping 'til peace I can find

I fear not the weather, I fear not the sea

I remember the fallen, do they think of me?

When their bones in the ocean forever will be…

He had been naught but nineteen, when the maiden voyage of HMS Finalizer sets sail. A crew of nearly three hundred men hoisted the sails of the warship, led by the decrepit Captain Snoke as they embark on a crusade of sorts in the warmer waters away from Liverpool. The old man, a battle-worn scoundrel with a sunken in face and long white beard has given this young boy his first chance of the open seas, and said boy has taken it. On his first voyage ever, the young skipper leaves behind the world of the land to instead live out his days on the sea.

And what a magical world it is! A world of adventure, loyalty and trust, of code and honor – unlike the petty realm of government and policy which he has so quickly abandoned, the realm of his mother and uncle; no, a desk job was never in the cards for him, not for him. He longed for the sea, and now he has her. Much like a sponge that lives on the bottom of the depths, he soaks up knowledge and skill as fast as he can, they will not regret the day they brought him aboard. For weeks he studies and practices and learns the ropes, learns the nature of the Finalizer and how to care for her.

He meets a band of older gentlemen, who take him under his wing.  Vicrul was the navigator, he taught the young boy how to read the stars with just his eyes and his compass. Cardo was the boatswain, and he taught the young boy how to seal the ropes so the braids wouldn’t rot, how to swab the deck until the floorboards shone. Ushar was the master gunner, who taught the boy how to load and fire the cannons, taught him to be grateful he wasn’t a powder monkey scampering through the rigging. Trudgen was the carpenter and taught the boy how to repair the holes which inevitably would find their way into the hull of their ship, taught the boy how to repair just about anything he could think of. Kuruk, the surgeon, taught the boy how to fix everything that Trugden could not.

And Ap'lek, why he might be the most important of the gentlemen of all, for Ap’lek was a musician and could play nearly any instrument placed in his lap. It is with Ap’lek that the boy spends much of his time, learning the melodies and harmonies of the sea, for it is by song which the whole ship works, and the ship does not work without it.

It is a song that they are singing now, the young boy in line with a row of far stronger and taller men. The salty spray of the sea splashes onto his face, as the skipper’s muscles are put to good use on the long-haul, as he and his brothers call out in time to the songs that the shanty master belts out with his strong lungs. That had been the one question Captain Snoke had asked of him,

“I’m fast, and strong, Captain, and am an excellent climber – ” He had boasted proudly, puffed his chest up to mask the lank of his limbs.

“Aye,” The old man had cut him off, glanced him up and down, “But can ye sing?”

Even if he hadn’t he would have lied, he supposes.

And even if he hadn’t, he would have learned soon enough. As he hoists himself up the ropes, as he feels the breeze and the sun in his hair, he thinks he might fancy being a shanty master himself one day. The work is hard, the work is brutal, but the songs make it worth it, they pass the time and fill everyone with a spirit that pushes the ship forward.

He had sailed halfway through the Atlantic fighting the enemy, blowing holes in the hull of their ships where he knew they had not a Trugden nor an Ushar to defend themselves, and in those few weeks he felt he had already outgrown this ship. Lying awake at night, he wished for a chance to one day commandeer his own, how he would be a far better captain than the likes of Snoke. If there was one thing he learned all on his own, it was that he would do anything to be rid of Snoke.

Oh, if only he had watched his words.

The storm comes as storms often do – a whipped up frenzy of wind and wave, Poseidon’s fury crashing down around them. Startled awake, his vision shorts out as the ship is illuminated by bright cracks of lightning as the sea churns inky black below. It crept up to them at night, with no warning save for the pressure in the air. That pressure, and the creaking groaning planks of the ship, the rocking of her belly.

By the time the storm was noticed by the rest of the crew, it was too late. Lightning strikes the staffs and catches the sails on fire, alarm bells ring, men shout and shout and shout and pray.

“All hands on deck!” Cardo’s booming voice rises above the thunder, above the shouts of concern that pour from the hammocks high in the rigging where the boys all sleep.

Down down down the shrouds they rush, shrouds which the wind whips and flings about in a panic. The integrity of the Finalizer is tested now, for they have survived cannons, but gunpowder is no match for the fury of the sea. The young boy feels a spike of adrenaline in his chest, this is the first storm he has ever seen, and he has a sickening feeling that it might be his last.

Heave and ho, the winds send the ship headed towards rocks hidden underneath the waves, a gash too large torn through the starboard side, water flooding in. He does not know which way to go – to pump the water out, to hoist the sails, to put the fires out; there is chaos, and he does not know where to begin. Men rush past him as the ship tils and lurches from one side to the next, chests and barrels and piles of supplies sliding dangerously to and fro, knocking crewmen over the sides before the swelling crashing deadly waves have a chance to sweep them off their feet.

Waves some twenty, thirty feel tall curl in on themselves and smash down onto the deck, and now those shouts turn to screams, as they realize, as they all realize there is no saving this vessel. Lightning strikes, and he is pushed, urged towards a small boat, and he does not know how if they cannot survive on the big ship, how a little one would be of much help.

“To the rowboats -- !” Someone calls, the boy does not know who, not in this frenzy. His vision is shaking, as he runs and runs from one side of the ship to another, trying to stay level, trying to stay upright as the Finalizer nearly capsizes.

“There’s no time!” Ushar growls, the pipe he holds clenched between his teeth nearly splitting in two, as lightning strikes once more, as flaming bits of sail flutter around and land on the flesh of men.

“Captain – where is the captain?” The boy demands, because surely Snoke must know what to do, Snoke is the only one who can give orders – except when he sees Snoke, he sees him frantically rowing out in the distance, far greater distance that he should have been able to row in the storm like this. The boy is thrown against the rail of the ship with another lurch from the waves, and he panics, “What is he doing?”

“Don’t be daft son, he’s leaving us to die.” Vicrul sneers, water sloshing in a grand arc behind him, lightning illuminating the mouth of gold teeth he sports, his mouth turned into a grimace.

That was the first time in the young boy’s life, where he truly felt fear. Snoke must have sensed the storm coming, and instead of raising the alarms, he had snuck out like a snake in the night. And in doing so, his captain had condemned them all.

“Will we?” The boy asks with terror in his wide brown eyes, as Kuruk and Ap’lek can only stare at one another (years later, sitting here on the bowsprit, he realizes that they were trying to find a way to say I love you  before it was too late).

He does not get an answer, before the cold smack of water carries him off and away, as the body of the ship splits in two, as lightning and thunder sear into his brain. Someone shouts for him, but he cannot hear them, all he can hear is the rushing thrumming sound of the ocean.

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

Beneath the waves, it is calm.

More than calm, it is quiet. He cannot remember a time where it had ever been so quiet. Up above the waterline, he knows it must be hell, but down here in the embrace of the sea, there is naught he can do but listen to the quiet and feel the burn in his lungs. The world around him is black from the lack of the sun, but the flashes of lightning way above him send shimmers of rich emerald greens all around.

The currents are too strong, there is no fighting them. With the burn in his lungs only growing, growing more desperate for air that will not come, The boy sinks sinks sinks, a chest of cannon balls pinned to his stomach, sending him deeper.

He thinks of his mother, he thinks of the look on her face when he told her he would follow in his father’s footsteps for a life on the sea.

He thinks of his father, of the smuggler’s word he had given to come back home.

It looks like neither of the men in Leia’s life would be making good on their promises of return, he thinks.

An impossibly darker blackness creeps up through the corners of his vision, and he feels empty, so empty. The lightning a thousand feet up ahead crackles through the water, as he begins to slip away. A last burst of breath bubbles out of his mouth, the water is cold as his back hits the soft sand of the ocean’s floor.

He stares straight up and takes one final look at the watery world above him, and he resigns himself to his fate – when the last flash of lightning backlights a figure bolting towards him, arms outstretched, fingers spread in a frantic push to grab him.

With the last of his strength, though his body is crushed, he lifts one hand out to meet them.

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

He rests at the bottom of the ocean, as your fingers twine through his. Your hair is long and it flows around your face, a face which he cannot see and yet somehow can see perfectly. Your eyes glow white, so brightly that it illuminates the space like the lightning, but instead of a mere flash, it is a steady glow, much like a lighthouse on a craggy shore.

However it is not your eyes which captivate him, it is your body. For one, he has never seen a naked woman’s breasts before, and so the sight of your chest uncovered is a sight he fixates on, but only for a moment as he realizes very quickly that in the place where your legs should be, is a great and glorious tail.

It is long and glittering as the light from your eyes reflects off the scales, and he has a hard time believing that this is real, that you are real, especially when you open your mouth and speak aloud to him under the water, asking, “What is your name?”

The burn in his lungs is no more, he realizes, and when he breathes in, water does not fill the empty spaces inside of him.

“Am I dead?” He whispers, finding with relative ease that he can sit up, there on the ocean floor.

He looks around himself, sees the fallen sailors with whom he had just been singing not two hours ago, sees the debris of the ship which has sunk in large shattered pieces, nestled all around. The flag of Great Britain tattered and torn, mocking them all as the current creates an illusion that it is waving.

You smile curiously at him, settling yourself around him, your tail draped over his lap as you check him for injury.

“No, would you like to be?” You reply, and he’s not so sure he believes you, for such a thing as this cannot be possible, not in a million years, it cannot be.

“No – I – ” He stutters, watches as bubbles dance up to the surface.

“Your name, sailor.” You ask again with a gentle smile, and he hesitates.

His name, what was his name? He had one of course, but…but was that really his name? No, it wasn’t, he reasons. That was a name he had been given, one laden with expectation and pressure that he never wished to inherit. Even aboard the ship, he was not called by his name – although his nickname wasn’t much better. He makes a decision then, a decision he had longed to make when he was alive.

Because surely he was dead, and if he were a dead man, then at least he would die the man he wanted to be, as opposed to the man the world told him he had to become.

“Kylo Ren.” The name leaves his lips with a certainty that he did not know he possessed, especially for saying the name out loud for the first time. He had called himself Kylo in secret for years, and somehow, it felt good to have that secret come to light, even if it were too late.

“Kylo Ren.” You repeat, and he finds that it sounds even better coming from your lips, the sound almost intoxicating, your voice and cadence of speaking music to his ears. “’Tis a strong name, that one. How many years do you have under your sails, Kylo?”

“I – this is my first time.” Kylo admits, and your white glowing eyes widen, a hand on your chest in surprise.

“First time out at sea and already caught in my storm? You’re either very lucky, or very unlucky.” You shake your head, your hair following in a rippling motion, floating in the water.

“You’re beautiful.” Kylo says, as he feels his heart opening up, as he feels the burn of his lungs returning, the chill of the water a contrast on his skin once more.

“I know.” You grin, too many teeth in your mouth, and it is then that Kylo’s mind begins to catch up with him.

“Did you say your storm?” He asks, air bubbling out of his mouth, air that he didn’t know he possessed, air that he knows now that you’ve given him.

Kylo doesn’t know how, but he knows he is not dead, he knows that you have done something, you wield some power of the deep. He knows that you have saved him.

“Lucky, I think.” You laugh, the sound more melodic than any of Ap’lek’s songs could ever be, the sound filling filling filling Kylo with air. “Yes, I daresay you’re lucky.”

“I – are you an angel?” Kylo frowns, as he feels the chest of cannon balls slip away from his legs, feeling regaining in his limbs once more. The water rushes and thrums around him, but he doesn’t feel afraid, not as you take him by the hand and lead him slowly up to the surface.

“An angel? No, no I’m something far more sinister.” Your scales shimmer and glimmer and glitter in the moonlight, the waves are calm once more as you swim with him up up up.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kylo says, because he can’t think of anything else to say, and this pleases you, and he finds that he would very much like to spend the rest of his life making you happy.

Through the surface of the water Kylo’s face breaks, and all at once lungs fill with real air, salty briny moonlit air, and he gulps it down, coughs and splutters water. Kylo’s limbs are sore, he’s freezing cold, he feels sick – and all of this lets him know he is well and truly alive.

You’re watching him intently, watching him carefully, your eyes no longer glowing now that your face is out of the water. Guiding him to a rowboat which sits empty atop the water, you help him into it.

He doesn’t want to let go of your hand.

“Promise me something, and I won’t drown you.” You tease, although Kylo cannot tell that you are teasing, he’s too in shock of how he is here – of why he is here and his fellow brothers remain at the bottom of the ocean.

“Anything.” The word tumbles easily, quickly, and you tsk against the roof of your mouth, shaking your head.

“’Anything’ is a dangerous word to be said to a mermaid.” You whisper, but Kylo doesn’t care.

“I’ll do anything.” He insists, feeling in his heart, in his very core, that he wants to be with you forever. He’d sell his soul, to be with you forever.

So when you smile sadly at him, and give his palms a tight squeeze, before you slip your hands away and begin to sink back down into the water, until Kylo cannot see your beautiful breasts or your too-sharp teeth, until all that can be seen of you are your eyes which begin to glow once more, he panics with confusion.

“Grow up, big and strong, live long.” Your voice swirls around inside his head, and he rushes to the side of the rowboat to reach for you, even after you have submerged yourself fully, he still reaches, “Come find me when you have commanded the respect of the ocean upon a ship of your own. Find me, and tell me you’ll do anything for me then.”

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

Plot a course to the night to a place I once knew

To a place where my hope died along with my crew

So I swallow my grief and face life's final test

To find promise of peace and the solace of rest

As the songs of the dead fill the space of my ears

Their laughter like children, their beckoning cheers

My heart longs to join them, sing songs of the sea

I remember the fallen, do they think of me?

When their bones in the ocean forever will be

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

The black sails of the Silencer are puffed full with wind, full speed ahead as they exit Port Royal. Sitting atop the bowsprit, Kylo stares into the glittering ocean, the horizon casting golden rays of light through the deep blue sea. His crew is merry, the weather is pleasant, and yet still a sour feeling lingers in his stomach.

Where were you? Surely now was the time, was it not? Kylo had grown, oh how he had grown, both in size and stature indeed. But more than that, he had done as you asked – as he had always wanted to do. There were no man so fearsome as that of Captain Ren, no ship that saw the sails of the Silencer and won the battle which soon followed.

His chests were filled with gold, which he sold for a pretty penny to the highest bidder, and often reserved himself a chest or two to simply fill his tub with and bathe in the riches. His barrels were filled with rum and food, his crew never having gone hungry, not even for one meal. His wardrobe was filled with expensive silks and linens, donning himself in clothes fit for a leader, but ensuring his crew were dressed as lavishly – these reasons and more are why year after year his crew elected him Captain.

In fact, the annual election had just taken place at the docks of Port Royal, where it was a unanimous vote. Kylo should be celebrating, he should be naked in a brothel surrounded by gorgeous men and women – it was the 1660s after all – he should be drinking to his heart’s content and pleasuring himself with life’s greatest fortunes.

Instead, he sits up on the bowsprit, and speaks to the sea with a melancholic eye. A single eye, for that’s all he has left, the other blinded in a battle he fought many a year ago. His crew takes notice to this, and as they perform their mid-morning duties, a few of them gossip among themselves, as pirates are often wont to do.

“He’s up there again?” A nimble fingered lad named Mitaka, not more than fifteen years of age, speaks up as he braids rope with the efficacy of a man with decades of practice. He had just joined the Silencer’s crew, had practically begged Kylo to take him aboard back in Port Royal, and though the Captain had a reputation for being volatile and coarse, he never turned away a face in need.

“Aye, with the telescope, same as every day.” His hammock-neighbor, Thannison, pipes up from his spot not too far across the deck, on his hands and knees scrubbing away.

“What’s he lookin’ for d’ya reckon?” Mitaka wonders aloud with the sort of curious nature that only someone young as he could still possess.

Thannison looks around, checks over his shoulder and then casts a glance up to the Captain himself, to Kylo who is unmoving, sitting far and away high above them all.

“A mermaid.” He whispers, and even though he is careful, the breeze still carries his voice, the word reaching the ears of the Silencer’s navigator, an ex-General of the Royal Navy.

“A myth, more like.” Hux scoffs with a roll of his eye, drawing the attention of Victoria the First Mate, a woman stronger than half the men aboard the ship combined.

“Don’t let the Captain hear ye talkin’ that way, what he’s lookin’ for ain’t none of our business.” She stands at the helm, not that there’s much work to be done now on such calm waters. They’re traveling windward to their great advantage, and the skies do their part in keeping the seas steady.

“But it is, isn’t it? We’re his crew, we sail his ship, don’t you think it’s our business what we’re lookin’ for?” Hux mutters, where he is reviewing charts over yonder portside.

“I said – ” Victoria storms over with her thick soled boots, storms straight through the freshly scrubbed floor poor Thannison had just polished, to shove a menacing blade of her short dagger in the direction of Hux’s narrowed eyes, “Don’t. Let. The Captain. Hear.”

Little displays of animosity like this were not rare among the crew, as pirates generally weren’t the most easy-to-get-along-with types, but Mitaka watches with a curious eye as Victoria walks away, down through a hatch in the deck, no doubt to retire to her rooms for the afternoon.

“You’d think she’d be in better spirits, what with seein’ her wife ‘n all.” He offers up, makin’ just about everyone within earshot chuckle.

“We could have been in port for a month, and Victoria would miss Gwen the moment they part.” Thannison replies, and this at least, Mitaka can understand.

“Does the Captain miss his mermaid?” He asks, eager to learn everything, eager to know, “Is she even real?”

“He says she is, but no man nor lass has ever seen her, and certainly never come back alive. They say she saved him on the night the Finalizer sank – that he was the only one she saved.” Hux throws a wary glance up to Kylo, who remains unchanged up on the bowsprit.

“Why?” Mitaka wonders aloud softly.

“No one knows.” Hux replies just as softly, for this truly is the one question which hangs on everyone’s mind, the one question that only Kylo would know, but even he is at a loss for the answers. “But as long as I’ve been aboard this ship, he has been looking for her. Now, no more questions, don’t you have rope to braid?”

“Aye sir!” Mitaka busies himself with his tasks once more, and Kylo, high up above them all, is grateful for it.

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

Of course he knows the rumors that spread, the worries that he is going mad. Much like a man chasing an elusive ship, or a hunt for treasure that didn’t exist, those who knew Kylo knew him to be a man fixated on the impossible. They say he has been on the sea too long, that twenty years should be his limit. Others say he is a drunk, and that his stories of a finned woman with long hair and glowing eyes can only be the result of a blackout.

No one says any of this to his face, for they would be run clean through with his saber if they did, but he knows, oh how he knows they say it.

Kylo often wonders if maybe they’re right, if maybe all this is for naught. If perhaps, ‘twas a delusional vision of a boy clinging to death, an overactive imagination. He supposes he will soon find out, for if there were ever come a time where he was Ready, it would be now.

He has sunk a hundred ships, he has slain more than twice that number of men with his own sword. He has sailed to the very corners of the ocean, has made friend and foe in every port known to privateer. The world knows his name, even if they cannot catch his ship. But none of that would matter, if you did not think so.

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

The sunlight glimmers on the water, and Kylo’s eye is drawn to a shifting movement in the waves at once. In an instant, his heart rate picks up, for he’s certain he’s just seen a flipper, certain of it!

Standing up and steadying himself on the long wooden beam, holding onto the ropes which are tied down to the wooden mast for balance, Kylo sheds himself of his hat, his coat, his saber and gun, before he sprints down the length of the bowsprit, until there is no wood beneath his feet, and he is swan diving into the ocean below.

On deck, all activity ceases, as the entire crew races to the bow to try and see where Kylo had gone. His hat and coat and loose artifacts fall into the hands of the men and women that make up Kylo’s ship, and they all clutch to them tightly, for they know how much Kylo cares about his clothes.

“Captain?” Hux shouts, cups his hands around his mouth and booms with exasperation, “Captain Ren – oh god dammit, Kylo!”

“What in the blazes does that boy think he’s doin’?” A gruff voice sounds from further back, and everyone’s eye turns to the young boy who is shedding his clothes too, looking for all intents and purposes that he’s going to do something rash.

“We have to go after him!” Mitaka’s face is bleak with worry, thinking that Kylo might have fallen over or been knocked down by the winds, that he must be injured or drowned.

But the First Mate knows better, and with a shake of her head and a resigned sigh at Kylo’s theatrics, she whistles for attention and all stand still to listen.

“He’ll come back, let him go.” Victoria puts a firm hand on Mitaka’s chest to prevent him from jumping overboard too. Everyone listens to her, Mitaka included, although he cannot stop staring out at the sea, watching for Kylo.

Since that fateful night, Kylo had trained himself how to hold his breath and how to swim well, skills which serve him now more than ever, as he chases what he thinks to be your tail. His legs propel him, muscular thick thighs that work double time, as his rippling biceps cut through the water, his body built but streamlined.

Where are you where are you where are you?

It’s all he can think, until he cannot think of anything but air, and he kicks towards the surface as seagulls caw above him, the sun blinding in a blaze of orange. With a deep sigh, he allows himself to float, his arms and legs spread out like a starfish on a rock, the sun warming his skin.

“If I am not ready now, will I ever be?” He asks aloud, wondering, hoping that you can hear him.

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

When he returns to his ship, he is met with not a single questioning glance, and for this he is grateful. His pride is hurt, his ego wounded, he cannot understand what he’s done wrong to make you keep him waiting this way. Slinking into his quarters, he strips down out of his wet clothes before even checking to make sure the room is empty, and draws his sword when a creak from the grand chair in the corner alerts him.

“What were ye thinkin’ this time? Hm?” Victoria leans forward, her elbow on her knees. “That you saw her again?”

Victoria was the first person to ever give Kylo a chance, when he washed ashore at the port, a scared starving boy alone in a rowboat. With that chance, he built an empire of piracy unlike that had ever been seen, and he brought her along with him to share in the riches. She was probably the only one who could ever speak to him the way that she speaks to him now.

“As a matter o’fact, yes.” Kylo bares his gold teeth at her in a menacing sneer, and she only rolls her eyes and throws a warm dry robe into his arms. Kylo puts it on without hesitation, not really wanting to expose himself to a woman he considers more of his sister than the one he has by blood. “This is about where she was the last time, where it happened.”

Bundled up in his robe, Kylo pours Victoria a glass of rum, and she accepts it with a sigh as he lays down in his bed with a groan. She takes a sip and watches him carefully, cautiously.

“Twenty years is a long time, Kylo.” She says, and Kylo lets out a long, heavy sigh and rubs the tension from his forehead.

“Believe me, I know.” He mutters, voice deep, tired. He sounds tired, feels tired. “We stayed at port too long, I fear that’s how we missed her.”

“You know I do not doubt you that this woman once saved you. But have you thought about the possibility that something might have happened to her in all this time? That maybe she is simply not out there anymore, unable to wait for you?” Victoria speaks softly, not wanting to get Kylo angry, but wanting him to face the facts. “I worry for you sometimes Kylo, perhaps you might think of setting your sails on a different prize – ”

“She is not a prize.” Kylo snaps, leveling his First Mate with a deadly glare, the kind of glare that should send shivers of fear down a normal person’s spine. But then, Kylo deflates, and he casts his eye toward the porthole window, hoping for those flippers to surface once more as he whispers, “She is something far more precious, something that cannot be owned. If ye be so inclined to know, I spoke to her two nights ago.”

“You did?” Victoria’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes blinking in shock.

“Aye, in a dream. And she called to me, called me here, so here is where I have sailed.” Kylo spits back, and this only makes her expression soften once more. “And when we are reunited once more, you’ll all see.”

“For your own sake Kylo, I hope so.” She pats his ankle, before swinging back the rum and leaving his quarters for him to sulk.

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

He is nearly asleep, when he hears it. The whisper, the ghost of his name, drifting to his ears through that porthole window left slightly ajar. He likes to sleep in this way, likes to breathe in the salty crisp air of night, likes to listen to the gentle lap of the waves. The ship is calm, in the middle of the night, the crew asleep in their hammocks or rooms below deck. There is nothing but the creak of the wooden decks, the flutter of the sails, and the steady rocking that has Kylo this close to dreaming, when he hears it.

“Kylo Ren…” The sound makes his eyes snap open, makes his heart beat fast in his chest. He thinks he’s hearing things, maybe conjuring them up in his own mind, but no, there it is again -- “Kylo Ren...”

Out of his bed at once, he throws on clothing. Clothing he has reserved specifically for this moment, clothing he has purchased just for you. With stockings slipped up onto his legs, Kylo steps into his black breeches and tucks in a loose-fitting white linen shirt, securing his waist with a crimson sash. The very same crimson adorns his brocade waistcoat, which he buttons up so quickly and with such shaky fingers, that he has to redo it twice. He has three golden earrings in each of his ears, and two golden bands on each finger.

He doesn’t have the time to wonder if you’ll find the appearance pleasing, as he brushes through his long black hair and ties it back with a crimson ribbon, because your voice is growing louder and more clear, and he is compelled to answer it.

Buckling his boots, Kylo ascends from the suite he calls home and finds at once, a pair of white glowing eyes not far from the starboard side of the Silencer.

“It’s you!” He whispers, nearly chokes on his spit as he does it, rushing to the rail and practically falling over the edge.

He holds his breath, waiting, hoping, and then yes! Yes it is you, you flick your tail happily in the moonlight, your scales shimmering and glittering the way he has so often dreamed about. You disappear beneath the inky waves then, and when Kylo is about to protest, your beautiful body is propelled out of the water, you do an elegant flip, spraying him with seafoam playfully upon impact once again with the waves.  

“I’m coming – just a moment, I’m coming!” For the first time in decades, a grin has split across Kylo’s surly face, his gold teeth reflecting the same way your scales do, and he jumps overboard, dives down into the water for the second time, knowing this time, you’re really there.

The sound of your laughter fills the spaces between the scars of his flesh, makes him whole, for the first time since he was a young boy. Your arms encircle him when he swims swims swims as fast as he can to reach you, and you surprise him by being faster – your tail propelling you forward more quickly than his mere legs ever could. Your reunion sings through the ocean, and he cannot take his palms away from your cheeks, he cannot look away from your glowing eyes, he does not want to, not now, not after so long.

You hug him then, floating on your back so he can be propped up atop your breast, and not accidentally pushed under the water. The two of you embrace in every sense of the word, and Kylo is thankful for the sea, for masking the tears of relief he feels.

When he leans his head in towards you, you do not deny him the kiss he so desperately seeks, and this kiss – though it is not Kylo’s first – fills him with a sense of completeness that has him groaning into your mouth. You smile against his lips, you let him wind a hand into your hair, another groping at your breast. The surface of the water is calm, there are no waves now to rock you both, and so you can indulge in one another like this lazily.

There is so much Kylo wants to ask you, so much he has to say, but in this moment, your union transcends language, as your minds meld together, a gate of sorts opening, letting the floodwaters free. He slides his tongue against yours and sighs into your mouth, clutches at you tightly, out in the open sea. If this were to take place inside his cabin, he knows the inside of the windows would be fogged from the heat that he can feel curling around your bodies.

“Kylo Ren.” You break the kiss at last, if only to give Kylo a chance to breathe, but you do not go far. You rest your forehead against his and he strains to look at you in the dark, through the closeness. “I have heard of the stories, how they echoed across the sea.”  

“You’re here, it’s you, you’re real and you’re here.” Pride wells up in Kylo’s chest, his ego inflamed, knowing the tales of his legacy have reached you. That is all he has ever wanted, and it is indescribable the way he feels knowing that in this he has succeeded.

“Of course I am, I told you I would be when you were ready for me, didn’t I?” You pet back the long dark locks that curl and cling to his wet cheeks, a thumb soothing across his lips as you lean in for another chaste kiss.

“You never told me your name.” Kylo says, because it is something he has wondered for twenty years, a question he has had burning inside his soul for just as long.

“My name? Hmm I have had many.” Chuckling, you duck your head, bashful. No one has ever asked you for your name, not once. “Names that have been given to me, names I have been called, many names. But tell me, what do you call me in your mind? When you lie awake at night and think of me, what slips past your lips?”

This sends a shiver of desire down Kylo’s spine, the way that you lean in and speak into his mouth, the way you smudge the words against his lips, your wet lashes dragging and brushing against his cheek. He’s halfway hard as it is, the thick line of his cock pressing through the layers of his soaking wet clothes, and all he can do about it is sigh, as he gropes at your breast once more.

“The only sounds I utter are the groans of pleasure which come from the very thought of you.” Kylo’s voice rumbles through his chest and into yours, and you grin, ducking your head, bashful.

“You’re charming. You may call me (Y/N).” You whisper to him like it is some secret, something that neither the moon nor the stars is privy to hear.

“Will you come aboard my ship (Y/N)?” He tests the name out on his tongue, and your scales shimmer with the way it sounds. That makes his pride swell further, makes his cock harder, but not so hard that he loses the clarity of mind to ask, “Can you?”

Your smile falters, but not by much. That beautiful tail breaks the surface once more, shimmering, ethereal before him. Kylo is mesmerized, he has always been mesmerized by you, but you being here in front of him, mesmerizing him now, is far better than the way he has lost himself in his dreams.

“I cannot, not like this. If my scales dry, then I die. So, in the water I must remain.” You explain, and Kylo tries not to let his heart break.

“I see.” He refuses to accept this, even though he understands why it must be so. He refuses, he has not come this far to leave you now.

Noticing his apparent distress, you hug him closer, kiss at his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

“There is…a way.” You start, licking your lips nervously, your voice hushed in the night.  

“Tell it to me, I want to help you, the way you helped me.” Kylo replies at once, a sense of urgency in his voice, thinly veiled desperation.

You turn your gaze away from him, your eyes like two beams of starlight, shooting out into the black abyss. Kylo had nearly forgotten that the two of you were floating in the open ocean just next to his ship, until you illuminated the world beyond.

“There is a cave ahead, beyond the craggy rocks.” You say ominously, half-afraid he’ll take you up on the offer, “Only a creature on two legs can reach it, for it is up above the water’s edge.”

“What secrets does it hide? What must I bring back for you?” He takes you up on it immediately, knowing that whatever he has been training for, whatever he has been doing with his life, all that he has learned, has led him to this moment for you.

“A golden medallion strung on a black cord.” Your eyes glow brighter with each word you speak, and Kylo finds himself getting pulled into your story with bated breath. “Decades ago, long ‘fore even you were born, ‘twas stolen from me by a man with a long white beard. He snuck upon me whilst I was asleep one day, tore it from ‘round my throat. I got my revenge on him -- killed him for it, sunk his ship in my storm, but the medallion was no longer in his possession when he drowned. I demanded to know what he had done with it, and with his dying breath he taunted and teased how I’d never reach it.”

“Until now.” Kylo assumes, because you are regarding him with such hope that he knows he cannot let you down. You saved his life, the very least he can do is repay you in this small way.

You crowd his space, your hands on his cheeks once again, your lips brushing against his own.

“I’ll go with you, I can show you the way.” You whisper, kissing him, thankful, hopeful, elated in a way that makes Kylo’s heart beat beat beat loud in his chest.

“When?” He demands, a voice commanding and fit for a Captain.

“Now.” You grin, taking him by the hand in a way that Kylo has memorized in his sleep, and leading him back to the side of his ship where he might climb up the notches in the hull to reach the deck once again.

“Now?” He blinks, having hoped that he could perhaps spend some time with you in his nice warm bed…he would have found a way around your hydration needs, he would have --

“We must go before the dawn breaks, the waters are dangerous when It wakes.” You interrupt his internal monologue, and there is something chilling about the way that your voice catches. “Take the rowboat, you’ll need your strength.”

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

Kylo rows the small vessel through the blackness of night, the clouds having covered the pale shine of the moon. It is no matter, because your eyes glow in a beacon of their own, as you swim beside him. Keeping in time with his pace, your fin lazily pushes you forward, and in the quiet, Kylo decides on which of his millions of questions he wants to ask you first.

“Do you live here?” He settles on. He means both the cove you lead him to and the waters around Port Royal, wondering why in all the time he has spent here, he has never seen you.

“Yes…and no. The ocean in her entirety is my home, I swim from place to place as I please, and sleep wherever my head rests.” You explain, your voice calm and thoughtful. Kylo commits your answer to memory, wanting to absorb every piece of knowledge about you that he can as you continue, “Sometimes that’s a port such as this, sometimes it’s an anchor on a ship, other times it’s on my back, floating in the sunshine. Although I’ve been nearly harpooned that way, so I don’t do it often.”

The humor in your voice at the harpoon mention is lost on Kylo, and he nearly stops rowing as he processes your words, as he dares not to get his hopes up. He does not, however stop rowing, because your earlier comment of a Thing in the waters makes him want to complete this mission as quickly as possible.

“When you say the anchor of a ship, you don’t mean…?” Still, he has to know.

You’re quiet then for a moment, and he knows his suspicions are confirmed, by the very hesitation in your voice.

“I check on you, now and again.” You admit, making him feel both absolutely fucking elated that he has been right all along, and devastated that you have been so close and somehow, somehow always just out of reach. “I always have, wanting to make sure you were safe.”

“And you never said anything?” Kylo doesn’t restrain the question, trying not to let his temper get the better of him.

He thinks of all the ridicule he could have been spared, all the doubt, all the sleepless nights of worry that he was losing his mind, if only you had said something. But then again, he reasons, he wouldn’t be the person he is today, had he not gotten into those fist fights for standing up for his dignity, and then maybe you never would have deemed him ready.

“I couldn’t interfere, that wouldn’t be fair to you.” You explain, proving his reasoning to be correct. You don’t sound apologetic, nor regretful for it as you say, “I wanted you to become a person of your own right, your own making, free of influence from anyone, even myself.”

That hits him hard, square in the chest. And at first he doesn’t know why, but then he realizes…you’re the only person he has ever known to want that for him. He thinks back through all the people in his life; his mother wanted him to be a politician, his uncle wanted him to be a educator. His father was gone, and Snoke…well.

Snoke only found him useful to meet his own ends, and much like the rest of the world, cast him aside when he had had enough. Even the gentlemen with whom he had spent most of his time before that fateful night had hoped he would one day grow up like them.

Kylo cannot be angry with you now, he knows, not that he was ever really angry with you to begin with. How could he, when you are the only thing in the world who has never had any expectation of him, other for him to be himself?

“I spoke to you, night after night I spoke to you.” Kylo whispers into the dark, thinking of all the nights he had spent up on the bowsprit, above a masthead carved in your image, speaking to the wooden mermaid wishing wishing wishing instead he were speaking to you.

Your tail cuts through the water as you swim alongside him in the rowboat, and you whisper just as softly, “I heard you.”  

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

The rest of the short journey is done in silence, mostly so that Kylo can prepare himself mentally for whatever awaits him. It looks sinister, a gaping maw protruding from the water, like a mouth with craggy and jagged teeth of rock. The light from your eyes shines into the opening of the cave, but it only shines so far before the dark of the dark swallows it whole.

“Do you see it? The cave?” You ask him softly, drawing his attention from his own thoughts to the massive structure before you both.

“Just up ahead, yes. It’s dark, but I can see it.” He answers, taking in a deep breath. He had never been particularly afraid of the dark, or of the unknown, but there is a distinct sinister energy that crackles through the air that Kylo can feel; it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“You must leave the boat behind now, do not be afraid, the water is warm, and I am here with you.” You assure him, offering him a hand that like moth to a flame, he is compelled to take.

He finds that the water is not deep here, he can wade through it and it only reaches his knees. You lay low, your free hand trailing along the soft sand as your tail swishes through the water, moving forward with him as he leaves the rowboat behind.

“You’re coming with me?” He frowns, unsure if he wants you in as much danger as you warn there may be.

But then again, he should know better than to question you in something like this, particularly when your eyes glow brighter and they shine across the sea, as you nod. Swimming beside him, neither in front nor behind him, you assert yourself as his equal in this regard, heading into the dark unknown together.

“As far as I can go, I am coming with you.” Your eyes glow, and he somehow, feels safe.

The water grows cold, the closer to the cave you and Kylo get. Kylo’s legs can feel the chill, can feel the change in the temperature. There is a humming from within, a rumbling sound that he cannot identify, and so in response, he trains his eye and his ear to be on high alert. The only other noises are the intermittent drip drip drips of water from the roof of the cave landing in the pools below – pools, because the deeper into the cave, the more shallow it becomes, until there is no more depth for you to stay submerged in.

Kylo looks at you, and you blink, the light from your eyes blipping momentarily. You turn your gaze towards the chasm before you, your eyes a lantern of their own for Kylo to see by. He doesn’t want to part from you, but he knows that when he returns, you will never have to part again.

“You must not dawdle, it must be fast.” You murmur softly, not looking at him, looking instead at the chasm, your voice taking on a strange quality that he cannot place. It sounds too familiar, like the way it had all garbled under the water when you saved him from drowning. The hair on the back of his neck does not go down. “Get in, grab the medallion – and only the medallion -- and get out.”

“Why?” He can’t help but ask, the pet-name slipping out of his mouth before he can think to ask if it’s alright, “Darling, what will I find in that cave?”

You still do not look at him, your gaze unwavering, unchanging. It is more unsettling than the rumbling, but Kylo doesn’t bring any attention to it. The medallion is in there, and you want it. You want it, and so Kylo will bring it to you.

“I do not know. Only, I have never seen anyone come back out, once they have gone inside.” You eventually say, quickly following up with, “You need not go, if you don’t think you are ready.”

There is no thought in his mind that Kylo would risk death for you, not know. In many ways, he has spent the last two decades living on borrowed time. In many ways, he has been a dead man walking for half of his life. If he were to die in this cave, it would be a death long overdue, Kylo knows.

“I have trained for twenty years to be ready. There is nothing more I could do to prepare me, if I fail now, I will have failed another twenty years ahead.” Kylo dismisses the idea of turning back now as quickly as you have offered it, pulling his sword out of its sheath which is strapped to his hip.

The metal glints from the light of your eyes, for they have finally turned to face him, the full effect of their glow making him feel as thought it were day, as if time had stood still in a moment of lightning.

“You are strong, you will not fail.” You speak with reassurance, and with those parting words, he steps out of the shallow water and onto the slippery rock floor of the cave, his descent into the chasm begun.

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

The deeper into the cave Kylo goes, the colder it becomes.

Soon he is out of the scope of your powerful eyes, and has nothing but the feeling of his fingers brushing against the cave wall to guide him. His eye does its best to adjust, and he curses himself internally, for maybe if he had both his pupils, he could see better in the pitch black. His footing is careful, the floor is slippery. Even though his boots are meant to withstand such slide, he still takes caution to not step somewhere which will twist his ankle, which will buckle his knee, which will make him fall to depths he cannot see.

His ears are trained still, and he halts at every moment in which he hears something that could be a threat, pausing just for a second or two to ensure that he need not his sword nor his fists to protect himself. Every time, he decides he is safe. He does not let his guard down, but Kylo moves through the cave with a bit more confidence; clearly if something were to kill him, or present itself as a challenge at least, it would have done so by now.

And what’s more – light, up ahead! A gap in the ceiling allows the moonlight to shine through, the clouds which have covered it having moved along on their path across the sea. Never before has Kylo felt so grateful for the moon in all his years, and as he steps into the light that it shines, his eye widens at the sight before him.

Gold, mountains of it. Piles taller than he stands, and oh does he stand tall. Glittering twinkling gold, but wait, no, not just gold, jewels too, diamonds and rubies and emeralds, pearls and strings of precious beads. It surrounds him, overwhelms him, blinds him with how brightly gold it shines. Where could it be, the medallion? Kylo tries to think, tries to strategize. It couldn’t be thrown in among the piles, no, whomever had stolen it from his precious mermaid would have known how important it is.

And so Kylo ignores the riches around him altogether, knowing that time is of the essence. He is careful to step around the piles, around and around them all, forcing himself to stay on task. The medallion, he is here for your medallion. He wishes he had asked for more of a detailed explanation, because he soon realizes that fuck, there are possibly a thousand medallions here.

Taking a moment, he sighs, turns in a circle, careful of his footing. It has to be somewhere obvious, he decides. Pirates are not that smart, and they certainly have a flair for the dramatics. Whomever stole it would want all to see it, would want all to know just how –

There! Up upon a pedestal made of rock, that must be it! A large circular disc of gold laced through a black chord rests propped up in direct line of the moonlight. It glows softly, ever so slightly, a golden pulsating light that draws Kylo towards it.

“There you are.” He whispers, his eye growing wide, filling with the golden light. There is a symbol, possibly writing in a language Kylo does not recognize, etched into it, that glows and glows and glows brighter as Kylo comes nearer.

He reaches a hand out but then quickly yanks it back. It could be a trap, what would he do if it is a trap? He chews at the inside of his cheek, hesitates for a moment. Looking up and all around for any signs of anything that could come crashing down, or shooting out at him from the sides, he waits.

Until he is certain that no such thing will happen, at which point he can wait no longer.

Holding his breath, his hand stretches up, fingers extended as far as they can go, for the rock pedestal is taller than he is even on his toes, and he does not exhale until he can feel the black cord nestled in his grip, and he pulls the medallion down.

…Nothing happens.

Suspicious, Kylo decides not to tempt fate. He has managed to escape death a second time, or at least, he will if he is able to return to you. Now that the medallion is in his hands, it glows so bright that the entire cave illuminates, and he can hear the faint echo of music, the very same music that has haunted his dreams. Your music, he realizes, and his heart beats knowing that he has done what you asked.

He is so pleased with himself, that as he climbs back down from the pedestal and passes through the piles and towers of gold and jewels, something catches the corner of his eye. A tiara, made entirely of gold and pearls, rests innocuously at his feet. It is carved into the shape of seashells, carved so well that if Kylo did not know of the wonders of goldsmiths, he would have assumed someone dipped the shells themselves in the soft metals.

“Well hello.” He bends down to inspect it, to get a closer look. Small golden chains with pearls beaded around it twinkle in the beam of light from the medallion.

The longer he stares at it, the more he notices; a tiny starfish here, a proud seahorse there, the mix of clam shells and snail shells, tusk shells and those spiraled ones which remind Kylo of the narwhals of the north – they are arranged so delicately, so carefully, that before Kylo can even think too much about it, he is reaching for it.

“You will look beautiful atop my darling’s head.” He is convinced of this, and he cannot see the harm in taking it, he is on his way out, he has obtained what he came for, there should be no issue here.

Oh, how wrong he is.

The moment his fingers touch the tiara, a sharp gust of wind bellows through the cave. It hurls towards him in a fury, in a rage, and even as he drops the tiara and lets it fall back onto the pile, it does not cease. The clouds return to cover the moon, or is it the ceiling of the cave itself is closing? He does not know, but he brandishes his sword in the low light, only the medallion’s incandescence giving him enough to see by.

The rushing wind draws the warmth from his bones, until he is chilled cold, frozen, fingers hurting as they clench around the hilt of his sword. He looks all around, ready to take on whatever may attack him, until the deep dark chuckle of his nightmares sounds around him, bounces against the walls in a way that Kylo cannot tell which direction to brace.

“Ickle Ben Solo, my how you’ve grown.” The voice muses, and Kylo freezes at the sound.

The impossible sound.

With clenched teeth, Kylo slowly turns, the hair on the back of his neck raising once more, the vein in his jaw throbbing with rage.

Captain Snoke, exactly as Kylo remembers him, stands in the middle of the cave. Face sunken in, long white beard, remorseless eyes squinting at him. The only difference from years ago and now, is that now, Kylo has grown taller, and when Snoke looks at him, he is forced to look up.

He knows this must be a trick of the cave, because all at once it hits him that the reason you conjured that storm was to kill him – him, the man with the white beard who snatched the medallion from your pretty neck. You had killed him, and yet here he is. Snoke is between Kylo and the exit, the just beyond where Kylo knows he will see the glow of your eyes once more.

This Snoke cannot be real, and so Kylo knows somewhere in the back of his mind that he could simply push his way past him and make way to you…but this is a chance Kylo will not pass up, and so with the medallion clutched in his hand he swings his saber and levels it directly at Snoke’s throat.

“Draw your sword.” The words snarl out of him in a grimace, as the rage of nearly three hundred fallen crew members sing through him.

At once, Snoke’s sword is conjured up out of thin air, and parrying Kylo’s away, shoving with a force much stronger than Kylo would have expected.

“I am but an old man, I cannae do nothin’ ta harm ye now.” Snoke taunts and teases, and Kylo spits at his feet, unable to hold back any longer.

“You lying cheating conniving bastard – I’ll kill you!” He lunges forward, poised to attack, his sword coming up to clang immediately and clash with Snoke’s.

It is regrettable, he thinks, that Snoke was the one who taught him how to fight, because the man can anticipate his moves. However, he only taught Kylo the basics, and in this regard, Kylo finds himself feeling lucky, feeling emboldened to push back harder, meaner, as he swings his sword, making sparks fly.

He manages to make a combination of moves which catch Snoke off-guard enough that he stumbles backwards, and this angers the old man, whose jaw clenches all his own.  

“If it’s a fight yer after,” He sounds strange, his voice echoing throughout the cave as he backs away, “It’s a fight you’ll get.”

Kylo will not let him get away, not the way he had last time, not the way he had snuck out in the night when he knew no one could catch him. He immediately runs after Snoke, chases him down down down back the way he came, further and further from the entrance.

As he runs, he realizes that there are things moving around him, and he nearly trips as a hand encloses around his ankle.

Out from the piles of gold slither the bodies of men who had been trapped, ensnared by the cave, men who had died unpleasant, undignified deaths. Kylo cannot be bothered with them, he must get to Snoke – he will get to Snoke, so he slices his sword through the limbs of the men who have fallen, failed on a quest of their own. He hacks away at them without care, does not look back when they collapse and clutch at their bleeding wrists.

They swarm around him, and Kylo can do nothing but kill them as they come crawling out from the depths of the cave, scores of them moaning and groaning, dying all over again. Kylo kicks their teeth in, stabs them through the heart, shoves them away from him even as they claw and cling to him, tearing his clothes, ripping at his shirt and his breeches, trying to grab the sword out of his hand.

Their long blackened fingernails scratch at his flesh, and he has to resist the urge not to be sick with the decay he finds in their faces as he punches and hacks his way through them.

It is suffocating, but Kylo grabs at the medallion almost on accident, and he does not know how, but a pulse of light shocks out of it and knocks them all away. The golden pulse from the medallion, from the symbol which now has morphed and changed into something else entirely, is protecting him, and he does not waste the time it allows him.

Snoke’s laughter guides him, and Kylo chases until there is nowhere left to run. On a tall bridge of rock, Kylo and Snoke find themselves engaged in battle, meeting one another sword for sword, grunts and groans of effort spilling out of their lips.

“This is for Vicrul,” Kylo shouts, as he pushes forward, forces Snoke backwards. The old man’s eyes widen before he frowns, realizing the bridge is becoming more and more narrow, “And this is for Cardo!”

Snoke fights back, their swords locked, shooting sparks all around as they meet clash for clash. Snoke’s footwork is light, he is fast for a man of such age. He manages to slice Kylo’s arm, slicing straight through the fabric. Kylo bleeds, and that pain only eggs him on, a lesson he had learned many a year ago – the pain fueling his rage.

“For Trudgen, and Ushar!” Kylo’s voice is loud, grows louder and louder as the blood rushes down his forearm, staining his shirt and dripping around his clenched fist, staining the metal of his sword as they meet time and time again, as Kylo gains the advantage.

“Ben wait –" Snoke calls him by that name again, and Kylo can only growl loudly with the rage of it all, for how dare Kylo disrespect him now?

“For Kuruk and Ap’lek.” Kylo continues, before managing to fling Snoke’s sword away from his hand, managing to send it flying all the way down a deep trench, water rushing through the cave below them.

Kylo can hear it when it hits against the rocks a thousand feet away, and suddenly gets the strongest urge to hear that sound again, although with Snoke’s head instead of his sword. Like the coward he is, Snoke backs himself up as far as he can go, until he is teetering on the precipe of the edge, on the very last foothold he has.

Kylo lunges after him, letting out a shout of rage as he runs his old captain through with his sword, cutting out the bitter shriveled blackened heart. Kylo holds it in his hand, squeezes any possible remains of life left there and drops it.

Snoke’s eyes widen, almost in shock, for even in death he had not been so injured.

He does not bleed the way Kylo is, but that does not mean that he cannot hurt.

“And this, Captain,” Kylo’s face shakes with rage, as he grabs Snoke by the throat and hoists him high up off his feet, dangling his body right over the trench, “Is for me.”

Snoke opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it is is lost in the scream that spills from his lips as Kylo not only drops him, no not something so careless as that – he throws Snoke down the trench, the glow of the medallion giving Kylo the ability to watch him fall.

He is reminded then, of how it felt to sink to the bottom of the ocean thanks to his carelessness, his cowardice. He hopes that Snoke receives no such mercy, as the one you had shown him that day.

You! He must get back to you, he must –

There is another rumble, from beyond the cave. Kylo startles, as the bridge beneath him begins to shake, and he realizes that the bridge is beginning to collapse.

No, not just the bridge, but the entire cave.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Kylo runs, his boots carrying him as fast as he can go, the medallion glowing and pulsating, music guiding him through the dark, slipping and skidding on the wet rock, Kylo runs. He is chased by large rocks which fall from the ceiling, falling onto his head and only just barely missing. If one were to pin him down, it would surely kill him.

He doesn’t realize how deep into the cave he had gone, until he can finally see the white light of your eyes, and your scream for him to hurry, after what feels like an age of running, his limbs burning, legs and lungs sore from the speed of it all.

“Kylo!” You rejoice, joy thrilling through your body as you reach for him, arms extended and a great big grin on your face.

“I did it, darling my darling I did it!” Kylo shouts at you from the mouth of the cave, outrunning its demise, outrunning his death once more.

“My handsome man, I knew you could do it, I knew you could!” You reach reach reach for his hands, and the second he grabs you, you yank him to your chest and your powerful tail propels you forward faster than his legs could ever run, as you carry him to safety once again, laughing all the while, “I knew you could!”  

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

When at last before my ghostly shipmates I stand

I shed a small tear for my home upon land              

Though their eyes speak of depths filled with struggle and strife

Their smiles below say I don't owe them my life

As the souls of the dead fill the space of my eyes

And my boat listed over and tried to capsize

I'm this far from drowning, this far from the sea,

I remember the living do they think of me,

When my bones in the ocean forever will be

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

The rowboat reaches the side of the ship, and it rocks for a moment as you hoist yourself inside of it. Your body takes up much of the space, or rather, your tail does, and Kylo cannot stop looking looking looking at you, the thrill of victory, of success, coursing through his veins. There is just one problem – he cannot lift the rowboat from down here.

Thankfully, a lantern sticks over the side of the ship, followed soon thereafter by an inquiring head, belonging to Kylo’s First Mate. He is conflicted at once – he wants to revel in the satisfaction of being correct all these years, but he wants to protect you more, and he is unsure of what Victoria will do now that you are so close.

“You are real!” Victoria says in a loud-whisper, smacking a hand over her mouth for a moment or two.

You wave up to her, a knowing smile on your face, and Kylo’s cheek burn. He is embarrassed, because now you know he has told everyone of importance about you, that he has bragged about you, that he has sang your praises. Giving his hand a tight squeeze, your fin slaps against the rowboat, and that is signal enough that Victoria needs, to send down the ropes.

Once the rowboat is hitched and lifted up out of the water, you slip the medallion around your neck, and immediately it glows a bright gold, brighter even than the white of your eyes, which now fade to the beautiful natural color of your irises.

Kylo is still unsure though, still not certain how this will help you, even as the medallion glows and glows.

“What does it do -- ?” Victoria has the same thoughts as Kylo, the same questions, but both of their thoughts are interrupted by the golden light which glows larger and larger, encompasses your body.

You rise up into the air, and Kylo is hesitant to let go. He knows he must, so he does, and instantly regrets not being able to hold your palm against his own. He steps onto the deck of the boat where it is sturdy and safe, and watches as some otherworldly magic you wield spins around your tail.

Suddenly, there is a great flash of light, and your fin begins to morph and split into two legs, two human legs; thighs and knees and calves and ankles and even feet and toes. Kylo cannot believe it, Victoria blinks and has to shield her eyes from the brightness of it all, but it is not long after that the glow fades, and you are gently lowered by your magic onto the deck.

Kylo’s arms are there for you at once, your naked body bracing itself in his embrace. Although there is no one on the deck who is awake aside from the three of you, he still wishes to shield your body from sight, a protective possessive simmer bubbling up in his chest. It also does not help that it has been a long time since you stood upon human legs, and he does not want to risk you falling, not now, not ever. He will never let harm come to you again, not as commander of the seas.

“Incredible,” He whispers, kissing your face, holding you tight while you get your footing, “You’re beautiful.”

“You keep saying that.” You laugh, your hair spilling over one shoulder as your arms loop around Kylo’s neck. You smile at him so radiantly, that it could have been high noon for all Kylo knew.

“It is the truth, I will continue to say it until the day I die.” He leans in to kiss you once more.

When his mouth opens for yours and he begins to hum against your tongue, Victoria clears her throat rather loudly, and scratches the side of her face awkwardly. You break apart only enough for him to shoot her a harsh glare for ruining the moment, but Victoria only rolls her eyes.

“Show her your cabin, Captain.” She says with no hint of subtlety, “I daresay she will be eager to see it.”

Kylo looks at you, and your pupils grow wide wide wide in the dark, and he knows you are eager indeed.

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

Kylo has never given much thought to his quarters, not until this very moment. Of course he knew what he had and he knew the degree to which his nice things were nice, but he never had wondered what you might think of them – or if they would be of any consequence to you at all.

It was a long room right at the very port of the Silencer, a vast open area split off into smaller sections by way of furniture arrangement. The floors were all covered with handwoven Persian rugs, the windows draped with fine linens. Up against the windows at the far back of the room was his large mahogany work table and chairs with plush velvet cushions, where he held meeting with the higher members of the crew. Along the wall were various chests and bureaus which housed his clothing, all carved with intricate designs and all having brass handles and clasps. Towards the front was his bathing area, a grand tub and all sorts of implements to improve his hygiene – he abhorred the idea that a pirate need be a filthy man.

And finally, off to the other wall, sat a grand canopy bed, with curtains which could be pulled shut to prevent any light from seeping through, should he want to sleep in on one particular morning or another. The bed frame was gold, inlaid with jewels, carved and decorated to tell the tale of a mermaid saving a young boy.

He waits for you to make the first move. He wants you, desperately, terribly, but he will not push, will not do anything which you do not explicitly ask for. He does not want to pressure you in any way. He has waited for you for twenty years, he could wait longer if you asked – as long as you are here, he doesn’t care.

But he doesn’t have to wait, for you have already laid yourself down in his bed, your arms spread out as your legs rub against the soft blankets, one finger beckoning him to join you. It does not take anything more for him to shed his clothes and do just that.

Kylo’s skin is still slightly wet from the cave, but if there is a chill that washes over him from being so exposed, he doesn’t pay it any attention. You are watching him curiously, your eyes trailing up and down his body as he steps towards you, climbs his way up the bed.

Immediately, your arms open for him, and he settles himself above you, kisses at the warmth of your throat as your hands find their way into his hair.

“Do you prefer me this way?” You muse playfully, rubbing your foot against the back of his calf, making him shiver shudder gasp with anticipation, continuing, “With legs, like you have?”

Kylo continues to kiss your neck, to worry his lips along the muscles there, grazing the gold-capped edges of his teeth up and down, making you shudder in return. He cannot describe the thrill that fills him with, knowing he affects you so.

“I prefer you either way, although I will admit, there is so much we can do like this.” He whispers, finding some way to broach the subject, the subject of his desire, his lust for you. God he wants to fuck you, wants it so badly that one of his hands wanders down to your lower stomach, asking with a silent hesitation for permission.

You grin and nod, and Kylo sucks in a breath, lets his fingers dip down lower, until they are brushing through the hair that has replaced your scales, pushing between your folds, your legs falling open and welcoming him. At once, you hum out a longing moan, a sound that Kylo has to chase, simply has to. He crooks two inside your pussy, revels slowly, softly, in the way that your body reacts.

“Aye, now the question becomes, do you have the stamina to do everything I want?” You chuckle as his lips part from the sensation of how wet you are, wet in every sense of the word. Kylo has large hands and thick fingers, but somehow your cunt takes him with ease, welcomes him and sucks him deeper.

Pulling back ever so slightly, Kylo looks up at you, his fingers busying themselves with working you open, pushing and rubbing through your folds, your pussy dripping around his knuckles. It makes his mouth water, makes him have to swallow hard, especially when your pupils darken and grow wide with lust of your own.

“You’ve – you mean to say you have experience?” He doesn’t know why this shocks him, Kylo certainly was no virgin.

“I’m nine hundred years old, I daresay I have more experience than everyone on your ship, O Captain.” You laugh, and something about the laughter bubbles anger inside him, makes his face harden.

He knows he’s a hypocrite, he knows. He’s fucked women all over the world, taken his pleasures from helping hands on more than one occasion. He knows that you must have done the same, so why does he get so possessive? Why does he get so immediately blood-thirsty? He has to fight the desire to rip heads off of necks, to hunt down those who did not deserve you – hell he almost stops fingering you from the sheer rage that stings the back of his throat like bile.

“Ohh does that make you jealous? That others have had a taste of me?” You notice, cupping his cheeks and kissing him sweetly, legs curling around his waist, voice deceptively calm as you whisper into his mouth, “Don’t be, you should know I killed them all right after.”

That makes his cock twitch, appeals to the primal side of his brain which had already begun to plot. You simply grin, turned on further by the way he is so ready to kill for you.  

“Good.” He very nearly snarls, thrusting another finger to join the two that have already found comfort in your pussy, deciding that he would show you just how much better he could make you feel, than all those others combined.  

With three fingers in, and his thumb on your clit, Kylo kisses you passionately, swallows down the mewls of pleasure and little hiccuped gasps that he elicits from your throat. His eyes are pinched shut because you are too beautiful, it hurts him to look into your gaze the same way that he has always been warned not to stare into the sun. But he doesn’t need his eye to see you when he can feel the way your body undulates and rocks underneath him, the pulsating warmth of your flesh sending goosebumps of pleasure rippling down his spine.

When he’s decided that you’re good and ready, when you’re stretched out enough to accommodate him, he sucks those fingers into his mouth to chance the taste of you. It is beyond that which Kylo could have ever dreamed, and spit strings off his rings when he hoists your leg up enough to properly thrust his cock through those warm plush folds.

“Fuck,” Kylo grunts unexpectedly, as the angle allows him to shove his way through with ease, the fingering having relaxed you enough to take him. But only just enough, it would seem, for despite the attention, you still are tight, and Kylo is sure that he could die like this and die a happy man.

Kylo’s body sings at the contact, at the vice-like hold your cunt has on his thick throbbing cock, and he pushes it deeper deeper deeper still inside you, not stopping until he bottoms out completely, not stopping until he has stuffed you full of his hot hard length, not stopping until your mouth drops open with surprise.

Smirking, Kylo positions himself in a way that he can support his weight and pull back, hips pistoning hard and fast all at once, making the bed creak louder than the rocking ship. He has decided he will never fuck again, if he cannot fuck you – he is ruined for anyone else, ruined in the way you push your pelvis up to meet him thrust for thrust, giving him as good as you get.

“Kylo – oh yes, yes! Take me, give me everything Kylo, give it to me.” You gasp, one of your hands digging into the scarred meat of his back, the flexing muscle of his shoulders moving under your palm.

The praise makes him moan, a deep rumbling purr in his chest that you exploit, a litany of yesyesKyloyou’resogoodgoodgood dropping from your lips, spurring him on, making his pride and cock throb, his hips rolling against yours, balls smacking harsh on your flesh as he clamps his teeth down onto your shoulder.

“Stars above, oh God – you’re beautiful, so beautiful.” He chants, feeling and savoring the way his cock spears through the tight wet velvet heat of your pussy, better than anything he has ever felt, clenching around him perfectly, fluttering and pulsing against his engorged veins and swollen head.

Your back arches underneath him, pushing your breasts with perked swollen nipples right into his face as he bends himself down to meet them, desperate to latch his tongue to your chest and suck. You moan moan moan, and he does not hold back the grunts of his own, the low noises from the back of his throat that muffle against your flesh as he suckles and licks the salty sweat off your skin, cock never once breaking in its rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck that’s good.” You pant, your body bouncing on the mattress, letting yourself go, letting yourself be moved this way and that for Kylo to pleasure you as he sees fit. Your eyes roll back into your head, your teeth bite at your lower lip, and Kylo can hear the way your pulse flutters from his spot on your breast.

“You like my cock?” He laves his tongue over your nipples one at a time, pinches at them with his lips, eager and ecstatic that he is making you feel this way.

“Yes!” You sigh loudly, no regard whatsoever for his crew – he doesn’t care either, in fact your volume makes him grow bold, grow demanding.

“Tell me how much.” He orders, shifting your positions so that he can take one of your legs and stretch it up up up over his shoulder, ankle resting near his ear, fucking into you hard and fast, so fast that his own voice shakes, “I want to hear you say it, say how much you like getting fucked by my big cock.”

You laugh, not at him but in sheer simple bliss, arms thrown over your head, hands tangling in the sheets. The moonlight shines on your body as he fucks into you, listens to the squelch of your cunt as it drips and drools on his cock, your tongue doing its best to stay in your mouth as you take the pounding he gives you.

“Kylo! It’s so big, I – oh fuck, oh! I’m so full!” You moan and whine, voice high and loud and music to his ears, as you hiccup and giggle out of your mind, especially when his thumb falls on your swollen clit, begging for attention.

The dark curling possessive feeling floods through him then, wanting you like this all the time, wanting you happy and pleased, wanting to be the man which gives it to you. The medallion practically smacks against your chest, and he grabs a hold of it in his hand so that your pretty skin won’t be marked by bruises that he does not give you.

“I’ll fill you up, fill you right to the fucking brim,” Kylo growls -- seethes, “I’ll knock you up and pamper you and make you come every day, coming on my cock and fingers and tongue – ”

It is then that he stops entirely, his hips halting at once, brain tripping up over his own words. You give him a whine and a light smack to his shoulder, protesting that he has stopped, especially when he pulls out. Before you can question him verbally though, he’s shuffling down the bed as fast as he can, pulling your folds apart with his golden clad thumbs and burying his face in place of his cock, his tongue stroking and sucking and thrusting through you.

“Oh!” You gasp happily, pleased with this attention, and Kylo’s arms wind underneath your thighs, your knees squeezing the sides of his head as he eats you out.

Kylo eats your pussy like a starving man confronted with his first meal – he is sloppy, he is aggressive, he is desperate. His nose prods up against your clit and rubs and bumps as he sucks you down, as he swallows the slick that pools on his tongue. You taste like the ocean but also like something otherworldly, and Kylo thinks that this is already replacing his most favorite of rums, the wine of your body far more addicting.

Keening each time you yank on his hair, Kylo kisses and makes out with your pussy, tears welling up in his eyes from the sheer overstimulation of his scalp and his cock, which ruts against the sheets. The laundry boys will kill him, he just had the sheets washed not two days ago, but he doesn’t care. 

A grosser part of him thinks he will never have his sheets washed again, but as he drinks down your slick and moans and pants into your pussy, he thinks no, he wants nothing but the cleanest bed for you to be fucked on. You deserve nothing but the best, and his hands clench into fists as he groans out the sheer desire to give it to you.

In the back of his head, Kylo knows that this cannot last forever, and a sharp pang of sorrow hits his heart, because he cannot think of anything more important than this – eating, drinking, sleeping, no, nothing compares to the way you sob on his tongue, sob with pleasure that has been denied to you for so long. 

His brain cannot make up its mind, whether he wants to bury his face as far between your legs as it can go, or his cock, and he wishes there were some way he could fuck you and taste you at the same time.

“Kylo, I’m going to come.” You warn with a shuddering moan, and that makes up his mind for him, for he wants to come alongside you, wants to come inside you, together.

So, regretfully he pulls away from your pretty pussy and gives your clit one last kiss, and pushes the head of his cock back into you, resuming the thrusting pace he had built, feeling how his cock has to work hard to shove itself into you, your cunt tight tight tight.

“Will – can – where -- ?” He feels like a fool for the loss of his words, but you, even blissed out the way that you are, you understand what he’s trying to ask.

“Come in me, handsome, fill me up like you promised.” You order, and though he has proven himself to be stronger than any man alive, he is weak for the tone of your voice.

That heating warming desperate coil of pleasure winds winds winds up in his stomach, until it is shooting out of his cock in throbbing pulsing ropes of hot come, spreading through your cunt, dumping his load as your body comes and shudders and shakes around him, your thighs trembling, toes curling, back arching clean off the mattress. He pants and gasps for breath as he curses long and low in his chest, pumping the last few thrusts of his hips against yours until his arms give out and he collapses down on top of you.

The medallion glows gold, sends a pulse of light across the ocean – you are grinning so wide and so beautifully that Kylo knows whatever has just happened between the two of you, is only the beginning.

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

Now that I'm staring down at the darkest abyss

I'm not sure what I want but I don't think it's this

As my comrades call to stand fast and forge on

I make sail for the dawn 'til the darkness has gone

As the souls of the dead live for'er in my mind

As I live all the years that they left me behind

I'll stay on the shore but still gaze at the sea

I remember the fallen and they think of me

For our souls in the ocean together will be

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

The sweat cools on the both of your bodies for a long while, and still, somehow, Kylo feels like he is in a dream.

The Silencer creaks and groans gently in the night as he traces patterns across your back, little looping nothings that have you humming softly. Your legs are twined through his, braided like the rope which hoists his sails, and he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating, even in the calm. You must, you have to be, for you are tucked up against his broad chest, your cheek nestled into one of his pecs, your arm curled around his thick waist.

What he wouldn’t give to have both eyes again, to be able to see you the way he wishes he could.

It is surreal to think that you are here, after so long. After twenty years of the world thinking him crazy, not only has he proved them all wrong, but he has proven himself to you. You wear the medallion around your neck, the very same medallion which was stolen from you so long ago, by the very captain that once tried to steal Kylo’s life.

Now he was gone, and you are here, and he has just fucked you through nearly to sunrise, and he thinks if he had but a small glass of something to drink, he could have the strength to fuck you some more.

“I have never felt more complete, than I do in this moment.” He confesses, looks down at you. You meet his gaze, and your irises grow huge in the low light. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand rubbing your back up and down, “I cannot believe at long last I have found you.”

You sigh happily, so happily in fact, that the scales on your hip begin to shimmer and glow, and Kylo thinks he would kill Snoke a thousand times over, if it meant he could have you so calm, so at ease.

“I thought about you all the while, heard stories about you across the deep. I am so proud of the man, the terror you have become, my Kylo, handsome Kylo.” You whisper, kissing the spot underneath his chin, where his scar drags across his throat.

Suddenly, he grows panicked, his arms tighten around your body, because he does not know the extent to your visit, he does not know if you only are granting him this one night. He holds you tightly and you hum with a question in your tone, making Kylo’s cheeks grow red hot with embarrassment and shame.

“You cannot go again, you cannot leave me. Please don’t – I’ll do anything, anything to stay together.” He clings to you, like the boy he once was, drowning and dying alone out at sea, the very sea which he now commands, which he now holds in an iron grip.

“’Anything’ is a dangerous word to be said to a mermaid.” You tease him the very same way you had teased him then, but this time Kylo knows what he’s asking for, and oh how he has waited so long to ask it.

“I meant it before, and I mean it now, I will not be apart from you again.” There is that deep baritone that has sent fear into the hearts of a thousand ships, and you grin at the sound of it, pulling your bodies flush together.

“You won’t have to, handsome.” Licking your lips, you allow him to tilt your chin up.

“Let me kiss you?” He asks, and he asks it so sweetly that you don’t even have the time to answer, you’re already nuzzling your nose against his, already rubbing at his lips with yours.  

The kiss, much like the ones from seemingly an eon ago – or was it only a few hours? – begins as a chaste nothing and works its way into being something passionate, something heated. It is in this kiss, that Kylo knows now wherever you go, so too he will follow, even if that’s to the very edge of the Earth, down to the very pits of the deep.

As he closes his eyes and kisses you once more, his hands cradle your head and holds you tight to his body. He worries you’ll burst into seafoam or stars, worries that now that he isn’t looking at you, you’ll disappear. His pulse jumps because of it, pounds in his throat so strongly that he thinks he might be ill – but you’re here still, he knows it, he feels the press of your lips against his own.

Kylo opens his mouth, and you slip your tongue through, making him melt and groan deep in the back of his throat, his hands clutching at your naked body, your scales shimmering in the moonlight that pours in through his cabin window. This medallion, the one which has granted you your legs once again, glows golden. He can see the burn of the symbol behind his eyelid, as you push yourself to straddle his waist, to pin him down to the mattress.

“Fuck!” He feels the white hot brand of the medallion then suddenly, and his shouts of pain are swallowed down your throat, you shush and soothe him with your otherworldly touch, even as something hot hot hot courses through his veins.

You have done something to him, something that he doesn’t know, doesn’t dare to ask. He trusts you, wholly and completely he trusts you – you have never given him reason to doubt, so he doesn’t, not even now.

You kiss and kiss and kiss and he doesn’t realize the ship is sinking, doesn’t realize that twenty foot waves have spilled over the side of the Silencer. He doesn’t hear the alarm bells or the shouts of his crew, he doesn’t care about anything else besides you. No, he sucks the air from your breath until there’s salt water in his lungs, but he doesn’t choke, he doesn’t splutter, he lets himself be pulled down down down, your hands in his hair, his arms around your waist as your legs disappear.

There is music then, music all around, inside his body and out, and he wonders if this is the ballad of the sea, of the souls you have claimed, the souls he has stolen at the hand of his sword. Kylo can feel them, their presence, in the in-between, calling and reaching out to him in a tearful melody, but knows he will not be joining them. Kuruk, Ushar, Ap’lek and Trudgen, Cardo and Vicrul’s faces all ghostly images of their younger selves, so young and fit that Kylo nearly doesn’t recognize them.

He regards them with a mournful eye but they shake their heads, not a single one of them angry. They don’t want him to join, Kylo realizes, they don’t feel betrayed that Kylo has lived while they have died. He makes them a promise, sends out the thought through the sea, that he’ll live out the years they had stolen as best as he can, and this is enough for them to stop haunting his dreams. To the tune of the music they dance and sing off into the ether, freed from the shackles of the in-between, finally free once more.

And then he realizes the music is coming from you, a siren song that fills his ears and his eyes and his very heart, it is the most beautiful thing he has ever heard, and he is filled with an euphoria unlike that he had ever known, because he realizes he gets to listen to it forever. Kylo had once asked if you were an angel, and you had said no – now he knows better, he knows what you are; you are heaven herself.

“We’ll be together forever like this.” He hears you say, your voice distorted and watery as your teeth grow sharp, as your hair grows long, flows about your head in a death defying halo. “Not a single man alive could harm you now. You’ll remain like this forever, just as you are, with me by your side.”

Kylo should be afraid, he knows this, he knows he should – but how can he be when you’re holding his hands and kissing his palms? How can he be when he opens his eyes and he finally breathes, a sucking sharp gasp of the ocean that fills him up? 

He cannot explain it, but he is transformed into something, something otherworldly just the same way that you are. He looks the same, but he can feel it inside his body and inside his mind, as the medallion glows and so too does the brand on his chest, marked forever by a mermaid’s kiss.

But instead of that kiss sending him to the Locker or a watery grave, he keeps his lungs open and he remains unafraid, as you smile with too many teeth in your mouth, you laugh and you cheer and you sing so very loud. And when he blinks he sees you crystal clear through both of his eyes, you grasp for his hands and he knows now he can’t die, his ship sails under the water manned by his crew, who too look completely unchanged.

You swim above the ship and perch yourself atop the masthead, the breaking light of dawn shines down through the waves, making the watery world feel like an elixir of life, of immortal dreams come true. Kylo chases you, with strong limbs he climbs up up up the rigging of the ship to join you, and as he climbs, so too does the ship rise, until the Silencer breaks through the surface once more.

The crew rejoices, they dance in circles around the bilge pump and throw their hats in the air, the sunrise golden and beautiful as your fin smacks happily against the wood of the ship, laughter at the antics on deck. Kylo sets you in his lap there high above the water’s edge, and seagulls fly and call from the disturbance of the ship ascending from the depths.

“I love you.” He says it, says the words that he has been practicing inside his mind for decades, the words he has rehearsed in front of the mirror. He never thought he would have a chance to say them to you out loud. “I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you.”

It hits him then, the realization that Kylo will be able to say them to you forever.

“Why do you think I rescued you?” You beam at him, and he laughs, elated, that his feelings are returned.

Looping your arms around his neck, you kiss Kylo, salty and briny and bright. Kylo holds you in his lap tightly so that you don’t fall, one of his hands on your cheek, adoring, caressing. He leans his forehead against yours, and the medallion glows, and when he meets your grin it’s with a smile of his own, because he has given you his soul fathoms below.  

 I remember the fallen and they think of me,

For our souls in the ocean together will be.

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

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

Tagging some friends, as always if you’d ever like to be added or taken off the taglist, please visit the link in my description (if your tag isn’t working that means on the form you might have given me your sideblog @ instead of your main!) 

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag  @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions  @direnightshade  @reyloaddict55  @thembohux  @kylorenswhxre  @sunflowersinthesnow  @babayagakeanu  @safarigirlsp  @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks  @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief​  @materialisthicc​  @drake-bells-waxed-penis @dutchiepie @slut-for-harri​  @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa 

[godess-ofthe-underworld]

Love Finds A Way (sequel to See You Again) {A Harry Hook x Reader story}

Part 3

At 6 o'clock Hadley rushed her way from the  art room to Evie's dorm.  She was late to help with Chad. She busted into the room seeing Chad already standing on the pedestal, adorned with his royal blue and fake fur cape.

“I'm so sorry Evie! We ran late with art club.” She said as she dumped her books on the bed and went to stand by Evie who was pinning fake fur around the edge of the cape. “ What can I do?” 

“ can you pin the rest of the fur around the bottom?” Evie smiled

“ Of course!” Hadley skipped to the table, said hi to Doug and grabbed a pin cushion.  She crouched down behind chad and started to pin.

Chad would not stop moving as he danced around on the pedestal.  Hadley began to grow frustrated as the pinning was taking longer than it should have.  Evie could tell her friend was getting upset and tried to get Chad to settle down.

“What about peacock feathers? Yeah I bet you know one is gonna have those at cotillion.” Chad exaggerated.

“Chad!” Evie gained his attention and he finally stood still long enough for Hadley to be able to stand up and finish pinning up the sides. “ When I look at you, all I can think of is… king!” Chad gasped and Hadley had to hide her snicker with the pins she was holding between her teeth.

“And fake fur.. fake fur says it all!”  Evie gestured to the cape.

“ Loud and clear!” Doug deadpanned causing Hadley to giggle harder.  

Just as Hadley pinned the last inch of fur to the top of the cape Jay appeared in the door way calling for Chad.

“Why did Coach make him Capitan instead of me?” Chad questioned. “ I'm obviously better.” He paused before saying “ King Chad though. I do rather like that. You know who else would like that?” 

“Who?” Hadley mumbled through the pins in her mouth.

“Audrey.” He choked. 

“She would” Evie smiled.  

He sniffled as Jay called for him again.

He hopped down off the pedestal and before he could get out of arm's reach, Hadley plucked the cape from his shoulders.

The three chuckled as Chad left with Jay.

“Someone is clearly having some trouble dealing with his break up with Audrey.” Hadley chucked as she sat down at the sewing machine to start attaching the fur.

“I've been doing the numbers and after we collect from all the girls for their gowns and Chad's cape…” Doug stopped typing and showed Evie the screen.  Her eyes widened.

“Hadley you need to see this!”

When Hadley saw the number on the screen she let out a short screech.

 “No wonder people work!” 

“What are we going to do with all this money?” Evie looked to Hadley who shrugged.

“Well, I think in the next few years, you'll be able to afford that castle you always wanted.” Doug laughed.

“Just as long as it has a best friend wing!” Hadley laughed as she went back to sewing.  

Just across the ocean on a small island a boy of seventeen clad in a red leather overcoat, white ripped up t-shirt, black pants, pirate hat and wielding a silver hook; strolled through the streets.  Some people ran as he neared them and others just watched and glared as he took something only to toss it to the side not a moment later.  Harry Hook, son of Capitan Hook, whistled as he made his way through the Isle, looting as he went.  He sauntered his way down the wooden planks of the worn out dock leading to Ursula's Fish and Chips.

  He stopped outside as a girl in a tattered dress sat on the edge of the docs by the door fishing.  Using his hook he picked up a string of three dead fish glaring at the girl who shrunk away from his icy gaze.  Harry slammed the saloon doors open, making the crash loudly against the wall, and placed his sword in the 'sword check’ barrel.  As he made his way towards the back of the shop he threw the fish at a passing waitress who looked after him in disgust.  He threw a crew member out of his way as he jumped over the long table reserved only for Uma's crew.

Speaking of Uma, she came out of the back clad in a dirty apron and her pirate gear carrying a silver tray lined with “food”.  Harry flicked the small TV on behind the table as Uma dropped the tray in front of him.

Uma growled as the screen showed Mal being interviewed from that morning.  

She picked up a pile of mush from Harry's tray and threw it at the TV.  

“Poser” she sneered, shaking her hand of the mess.

“Traitor!” Harry yelled leaning against the table watching the screen.

When no one reacted, Uma grew agitated .

“Hello?!”

After that, everyone lining the long table threw something at the screen, some missing and causing Harry to duck away before it could hit his head.

“What I wouldn't give to wipe the smiles off their faces. You know what I mean?” Harry announced as he wiped sludge off the screen with his finger.  

Uma turned to Gil, son of Gaston, the only person who hadn't thrown anything and glared at him.

“Gil!” He jumped when Uma yelled in his ear. “ You wanna quit choking down yolks and get with the program?!”

Gil swallowed his mouth full of food “ yeah. What they said.” 

Uma huffed out a laugh “ that little traitor. Who left us in the dirt” 

“Who turned her back on evil.” Harry added.

“ Who said you weren't big or bad enough to be in her gang.” Gill added getting more food from the serving window.

Both Harry and Uma stopped what they were doing to glare at the blonde haired boy.

The whole crew looked stunned as Gil brought up the reason for a long lasting feud between Mal and Uma.  

“Back when we were kids.  Come on you guys remember, she called her shrimpy and the name just kind of…” 

Uma held Harry back as he was about to lunge at Gil.

“Stuck.”

Uma rolled her eyes as Gil shrunk back and turned back to Harry.

“ That snooty little witch. Who grabbed everything she wanted and left me with nothing”

“ No. She left you that sand box and then she said that you could have the shrimp…” 

“I'm gonna need you to stop talking!” Uma shouted slamming her fist on the table, interrupting Gil again.

“Look, we have her turf now.  They can stay in Bore-adon…” Harry pointed at the TV.

“Harry, that's her turf now! And I want it, too. We should not be getting her leftovers.” U a growled. “Son of Hook, Son of Gaston, and me, most of all, daughter of Ursula.  What's my name?”  Uma turned to Harry.

Harry pulled the hat off his head and kneeled down and whispered “Uma.” 

“What's my name?” She turned to Gil. 

He choked down the mouthful of food and mumbled “Uma?”

(Uma)

This is all hands on deck

Calling out to lost boys and girls

I'm gettin' tired of the disrespect

We won't stop 'til we rule the world

It's our time, we up next! (next, next)

Our sail's about to be set (set, set)

They ain't seen nothing yet!

Tell 'em who's in charge

So they don't forget

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Say it louder!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Feel the power!

No one's gonna stop us

Soon the world will be ours

What's my name?

What's my name?

What's it! What's it!

Say it loud!

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

All eyes on me, let me see 'em

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

What's it! What's it!

Say it! Say it!

(Uma-ah-ah-ah!)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

Uma!

I'm the queen of this town

I call the shots, you know who I am

I don't need to wear no fake crown

Stand up to me, you don't stand a chance

It's our time, we up next! (next, next)

My crew's as real as it gets (gets, gets)

The worst is now the best

And leaving us here

Will be their last regret

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Say it louder!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Feel the power!

No one's gonna stop us

Soon the world will be ours

What's my name?

What's my name?

What's it! What's it!

Say it! Say it!

[Harry]

You know what they say

Bad girls have all the fun

Never learned how to count

Cause I'm number one

Ready here we come

We always get our way

It's a pirate's life, every single day (Hey!)

She's the captain, I'm the first mate

Enemies seasick can't see straight

Call 'em fish bait, throw 'em on a hook

Uma's so hot they get burned if they look

(Uma)

It's all eyes on me, let me see 'em

I see your eyes on me boys, hey!

You know what my name is

Say it, say it louder!

Hook me!

(Ha, ha!)

Ho! Woah!

Come on!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Say it louder!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Feel the power!

No one's gonna stop us

Soon the world will be ours

What's my name?

What's my name?

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

All eyes on me, let me see 'em

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

What's it!, what's it!

Say it! Say it!

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

Ooh, say it louder!

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

Ooh, say it louder!

What's it! What's it!

Say it! Say it!

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

Uma!

 Uma stood up from her throne on the table.  As she walked across the table laughing with the rest of the crew, a large purple and black tentacle  snapped at them from the back of the restaurant causing them all to duck and scream.

“Shut your clams!” Ursula's voice sounded through the small space.

“Mom!”

“These dishes ain't gonna wash themselves.” Ursula ignored her daughter and retreated the long tentacle back.

“It's fine. It's fine.  Because when I get my chance to rain down the evil on Auradon, I will take it!  They're gonna forget that girl. And remember the name…” 

“Shrimpy!” Gil shouted and slammed his fists on the table.

Uma looked to Harry who nodded his head and escorted Gil from the shop.  

When Harry walked back in the TV was still running, showing Mal from that morning, only now there was a girl blocking Mal from the camera.  Harry stopped and let a long breath out as he stared at Hadley, her hair on fire like the rest of her.  

“Miss you everyday, haddie”

 He shut the TV off and went to resume his rounds around the isle.

Summary: You would think that six months in Auradon would do any villain kid good.  Well, not Hadley.  After the events of the Coronation, Hadley's mood took a downward spiral; and for one reason, guilt.  She'd broken a promise and left her best friend on the Isle of the Lost.  How will she handle seeing him again when certain circumstances bring her back to the Isle? Will she finally tell him what she really feels?  

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in Descendants.  Hadley and the plot between her and Harry are mine. 

Tag list: @unded-bride  

WOOOOO! Part 3!!!  hope you enjoyed this part please like and comment for part 4. As always you can read the illustrated version over on my Wattpad (@phelpsphan)!  please message me if you would like to be added to the tag list!

[babycracker]

first line tag game

thank you for the tag @amlovelies! 🤍

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

1. pranks (litg: bobby/mc)

“Hey Jenna!” Bobby jogs over to join her as she walks back in through the front door, and she raises an eyebrow at his cheerier-than-usual demeanor.

“Did I miss anything while I was away?” she asks, returning his smile all the same because his happiness is infectious

2. love or money (litg: bobby/mc)

Bobby’s eyes cracked open, peering into the darkness like every other morning. He always woke up before the lights came on. Even after a month in the Villa, for a split second he forgot where he was and a pang of panic shot through him when he felt Amanda shift beside him before the last twenty-nine days came flooding back to him, and he allowed himself the tiniest of smug smirks.

3. when bobby met lani (litg: bobby/mc) explicit, minors dni

The beer's cheap and nasty, the bouncers are more interested in hitting on the girls coming through the door than actually providing any kind of security detail, and the male talent is… subpar. The music's half okay though, Lani thinks to herself as she chokes down the last of the God awful beer she'd ordered. The barman, who's barely taken his eyes off of her since she sat down, nods toward her empty bottle with his eyebrows raised.

4. the one that got away, chapter 23 (litg: bobby/f!oc) main story is explicit, minors dni

His phone beeping and vibrating across Tash's nightstand woke Bobby up. He groaned and squinted at it, the small light flashing in the corner indicating a text message. He heard Tash groan from where her face was pressed into his back as he reached out for it.

"What're you doing?" she murmured as she shifted to lay her head on his chest when he rolled onto his back, squeezing her eyes closed against the sudden light.

"I got a text, sorry."

"How much did it take for you not to yell that?"

He felt her grin against him and chuckled, "not as much as it used to."

5. keep on running, chapter 8 (litg: bobby/god knows honestly the boy was a ho)

Bobby slips his phone, keys and wallet into his pockets and steps out from behind the counter of the music store, ready to head home, but stops short when he sees Gary standing just inside the door waiting for him. He offers a small smile, which Bobby doesn’t return as he tries to walk past him and out onto the street. Gary’s arm shoots out, his hand on Bobby’s chest to stop him from moving, and he sighs and looks over at him.

6. while the cats are away, chapter 3 (litg: bobby&f!oc)

As usual Bobby was the first to wake up, and had quietly made his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day while he had a few moments of peace. By the time he was done and heading back out to the bedroom, he was passing some of the others on their way to the bathroom. Tash was perched up on the edge of their bed waiting for him, holding a cup out to him as he made his way closer to the bed.

7. untitled (litg: ????)

Noah sat at their usual booth in the back of the bar, running his finger around the rim of his glass before letting out a sigh and checking the time on his phone again. He’d arrived early so he knew he had no business being impatient, but he’d needed to get out of that damn house, away from Hope.

It had been bad enough when they’d been playing nice. Watching her smile to his face while knowing that she was more than likely trashing him to whoever would listen as soon as his back was turned. Not that he had a right to be pissed off about that lately; he’d been doing the same thing for the last few weeks. But since signing the divorce papers, Hope had become a she-devil straight from the depths of Hell.

8. 25 (holi)days of wayhaven, day 31 (twc: adam/f!detective)

They’ve come a long way, and both of them feel it whenever they’re together. A long way from Jordan deliberately riling him up because she knew that just about everything she did irritated him. A long way from Adam going out of his way to spend as little time with her as possible.

It’s taken them a long time to realise that they were doing these things - leaning into their dislike for each other - as a way to distract themselves from the fact that they have always liked each other. Maybe they’ve always loved each other, though neither of them are willing to say that out loud.

9. untitled (twc: felix/f!detective)

Felix can't sit still. It's not as though it's unusual for him by any means, but it seems to be exaggerated when he's spent the last six hours in a place where there is literally nothing to do.

He's slumped on the chair beside the hospital bed, slouched down so low that his ass isn't even on the seat anymore, one of his legs jiggling up and down and both hands drumming erratically on his knees.

He lets out an impatient sigh and sits upright again, taking his hat off and running a hand through his hair.

10. sick like me, chapter 20 (litg: bobby/mc) explicit, minors dni

It had happened slowly, so slowly that if Lani hadn’t found herself (mostly) weirdly excited about it she might not have even noticed that it was happening. But Bobby was most definitely moving in, slowly but surely. It started with little things, a change of clothes here and there, some toiletries, until she was helping him sell off some of his bigger furniture, stuff that they both knew wouldn’t fit into Lani’s apartment.

After a few weeks, the two of them stood in the middle of what used to be his living room but was now nothing more than an empty space, as Bobby turned his keys over and over in his hand.

11. fire meet gasoline, chapter 4 (twc: morgan/m!oc)

She'd expected him to dress down a little, seeing that they are likely venturing into a sewer this morning. But all that's missing is his jacket; he's still wearing his usual long sleeve dress shirt and vest though his sleeves have been partially folded back, revealing the smallest glimpse of a tattoo on the outside of his right forearm.

"You know you're probably going to get covered in crap, right?"

"Wrong. But if you want to keep doubting me, go right ahead," he grins an obnoxiously cocky grin at her before turning and heading around the warehouse towards the sewers.

12. 28 dates with unit bravo, day 10 (twc: morgan/m!oc)

She doesn't like him. He's hot, that's all. And kind of cocky and kind of an asshole and what can she say? Morgan's into it. Maybe it's because he's the same as her; not relationship material by a long shot, but she has a feeling he knows his way around the bedroom. Probably the kitchen, bathroom and any number of outdoor locations as well. That, and he’s hot.

13. untitled (twc: adam/f!detective)

He can hear her pacing the hall outside of his room. She pauses every time she passes his door, and everytime she does he tenses, only to relax again just slightly when she returns to pacing.

Part of him wants to throw his door open and drag her into his room. Another part wants to stick his head out the door and order her to return to her room and stop shuffling around outside of his. But a part bigger than both of them makes him stay put, sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully unlacing his boots.

14. luck of the unit, day 20 (twc: adam/f!detective)

"Say another one!" Jordan can barely get the words out between gasps of laughter, only becoming more hysterical every time she catches a glimpse of the unimpressed expression on Adam’s face.

“This is hardly the best use of your time here,” he points out, pausing to gesture around the study, “you are supposed to be studying.”

“I am studying, I’m learning a foreign language,” she insists with a defiant nod, and when his shoulders sag in defeat she knows she’s got him. “Come on, another one.”

15. untitled (tanner, not fanfic)

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah."

"Liar."

Tanner pauses for a moment, unable to hold back a wince when the tattooist starts again. "Little bit."

Skylar grins at him and sits up straight in the seat again, smiling smugly at him before spinning the seat and herself around in a circle.

"Dad's gonna kill you," she points out when she finally stops herself from spinning, and Tanner rolls his eyes at her.

16. echoes in the forest, chapter 13 (twc: adam/f!detective)

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Felix murmurs quietly, trudging along between Nate and Mason. Jordan and Adam are walking up ahead close by the boy as he continues wandering through the forest.

“You mean you haven’t felt that way since we got here?” Mason scoffs, not bothering to lift his eyes from the ground in front of him.

“Yeah, but worse now,” Felix answers, and Nate places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be alright,” he tries, but somehow Felix doesn’t find himself as reassured as he usually does when Nate attempts to comfort him.

oop, didn’t quite make 20. and jfc did i have to dive down to the bottom of the barrel to get what i did, some of these were almost a year ago. i’m noticing now that i start with a character’s name more often than not. honestly i don’t think i can pick a favourite, i’ve been thinking on it for like 15 minutes now and i honestly dunno.

and i know some of you think that you know everything that i have written even if it hasn’t been/isn’t to be posted... and i know that seeing this list of untitleds, you may be surprised and i’m sorry lol.

gonna tag @dwead-piwate-meggers @mistyeyedbi @masonscig @echohauville and @agentsunshine (no pressure ofc!) and to anyone else who wants to get in on this, tag me!

[untaemedqueen]

SaB Series

Werewolf!Taehyung x Mate!Reader

Chapter 2.

Warnings: Graphic birth.

No sex in this chapter, sorry folks, wait until the next chapter. Oh-ho boy. Get your eye bleach ready.

Within moments you were up in your bedroom as Jimin gently places you on your bed. “Fuck, I-I don’t know what to do!” Jimin whines loudly, he paces back and forth as you grip at the comforter sheets. Your mind reeling at the sudden contractions, Taehyung said the pups wouldn’t come today! How wrong he was! 

Namjoon runs into the room, “I can smell you from the forest, you okay?” You glare up at him as he crouches down in front of you. Your hand landing on your back as you groan. 

“No, Kim Namjoon. I’m going into fucking labor.” He blanches before clearing his throat. 

“What do we do, hyung?!” Jimin cries putting his hand on your shoulder. Namjoon stands up tall assessing the situation. 

“Taehyung is at the ritual... This isn’t good.” You give him a fake clap, “Thank you! Captain Obvious! You’re so good at this!” You yell before throwing your head back, your forehead and scalp beginning to sweat. 

“Oh God!” You whine as another contraction hits you. 

“I’ll run to him. Tell him you need him here.” Namjoon decides. 

“What?! It’s like an hour and a half run to the gymnasium!” Jimin says shocked as he grabs a towel, dabbing it to your forehead. You wish you could just go to the hospital. But, alas, it was against the wolf code which Taehyung made very clear. When pups were born of course they looked like normal babies but they had canine teeth which would shock an obstetrician, never mind that newborn pups eyes were pitch black, the whites of their eyes completely dark. Kind of like how actual wolves are born deaf and blind. 

“He needs to be here.” Namjoon says before leaving the room. 

“What am I supposed to do?!” Jimin yells out, “Stay with Y/N. And, if those pups come. You better do a good job or Taehyung will fucking kill you.” Namjoon calls back up the stairs before the glass sliding door slams shut. 

“Oh, good. Comforting. No pressure.” Jimin and you lock eyes before he whines loudly. 

“It’ll be okay Chim.” You say trying to comfort him. Wait, why are you comforting him?! You’re going into labor without your mate and on top of it Jimin might be the one to deliver these children. He’s your best friend, yes, but is he the brightest? No. No he isn’t.

“I’m going to get some hot towels.” Jimin says looking up from his phone, you grit your teeth as you rub your stomach. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You groan shooing him away. Your eyes find the clock on the wall and you sigh. Namjoon had only been gone 40 minutes. He was probably still running. Who knows if Taehyung would even be able to leave. You’re going to give birth by yourself. With your dumb best friend who has to literally look up what to do on the internet because he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to Taehyungs lecture last week. Too busy thinking about his stupid wolf gonorrhea. You groan loudly as a pup moves inside you as a contraction begins again. They were getting closer together, not good. You just need to hold on. Just hold on till Taehyung gets here. If you could even try.

Branches smack against Namjoons furry face as he runs at full speed towards the gymnasium he used to frequent when he was Alpha. 

“TAEHYUNG!” He calls out in his mind. Silence. He stops before sitting on all fours and howling loudly. He needs to get to Taehyung, he got his best friend Y/N into this situation and he wouldn’t let her go through this alone without her soulmate. He begins to run again, his rough, hot ragged breaths creating puffs of smoke in the cool night air. He was close to the gymnasium but not close enough. His paws bouncing off rocks as he runs at full speed. 

“Please!” He screams out in his mind to silence.

Taehyung sits back in his throne rolling his eyes as Jungkook finally finishes his knotting. “Finally, fuck.” Jungkook sniffs the girl below him before grunting and grabbing his boxers. The small werewolf girl spent on the floor, pools of wolf cum beginning to surround her body. That was it, no one in Taehyung’s pack impregnated the bitch. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as Jungkook slips on his boxers and stomps angrily back to his pack. 

“Maybe she’s sterile.” Hoseok blurts out as he picks his head up off his hand. 

“You would be able to smell it if she was, your semen just sucks.” Taehyung says quietly making Yoongi snort. Taehyung picks up his head as his heart begins to hurt. 

“Something isn’t right.” His head getting cloudy as he sniffs the air. 

“What’s up?” Yoongi asks concerned. Taehyung tilts his head before looking at his friend. 

“I’m not sure. Something is wrong.” As a foreign pack member begins his process on the small black haired girl Taehyung hears screams within his mind. 

“TAEHYUNG!” He hears Namjoon scream faintly in his mind. The pack stand up quickly, gaining attention from the other packs. 

“THE PUPS ARE COMING!” He hears and he curses loudly. He looks at his pack as they stare at him wide-eyed. 

“How could this happen, you said they weren’t bearing down low enough.” Hoseok asks surprised. 

“Do I look like I have the answers to everything?” Taehyung growls through gritted teeth. Taehyung swings his long trench coat behind him as he walks towards the doors of the gymnasium. A large man stands in his way, his bald head shining from the bright lights. 

“I’m sorry, pack-leader. The ceremony is not over. You cannot leave.” Taehyung advances, a loud growl emitting from his throat as his canines drop down, sharp and ready to pierce skin. 

“My mate is giving birth. I must go.” He says as his pack backs him up. The man does not move as he looks down. 

He shrugs uncaring, “Get back to your throne before I make you.” The man says bending down to Taehyung’s height. His jaws snap as a feral snarl begins within him. 

“Oh, Jo. Let them go. Would you let such a happy occasion be wasted because you would not move your body?” Taehyung’s head snaps towards the feminine voice, the older Korean woman he has known his whole life smiles warm-heartedly at him. Her white hair in a kept bun, her black dress pooling around her feet. Taehyung clears his throat before standing up tall. 

“Nephew, give the pups a kiss for me.” His aunt whispers as she opens the doors for him. He gives a curt nod before leaving stripping his clothes off in the process as he busts into the cool night air as a wolf. His pack mates just behind him. 

“Your aunt is the chairman of the FWWA?” Hoseok asks within his mind as they begin to run. 

“Surprise.” Taehyung grumbles as they speed through the treeline. Namjoon greets them on their run back. 

“She’s going to have those pups soon, when I left she looked like death.” Namjoon calls to them. 

“Hold on baby, I’m coming.” Taehyung howls as he runs with all his might home. 

“Okay, okay. I’m going to change the wet towel now.” Jimin says carefully as you scream in pain. 

“I DON’T CARE!” You yell grabbing his shirt pulling him close to your face. 

“Stop talking Park Jimin. I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” He nods as his lips form a straight line as he ‘locks’ his mouth and throws away the key. 

“WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!” You scream leaning forward. You find the courage to stand beginning to pace the room, your body doubled over with a hand on your clammy back. Jimin walks with you, his hand on your elbow as he bites at his full lips nervously. He whines quietly and you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I want drugs!” You whine as another contraction hits so hard, your knees go weak. Jimin grabs you with a grunt as you begin to fall, his weight holding you easily as you lean on him. 

“Sit down.” He says helping you back to the bed. You sit down with a groan. As you put your hand under your stomach, the utter pain you feel makes your mouth go dry. As if getting your period and getting cramps before wasn’t enough. This was one hundred times more painful. 

“Taehyung better get his fucking ass back here. This is the worst.” You cry out, tears starting to well up in your eyes. Jimin cards his fingers through his hair before clearing his throat. 

“I really hate to bring this up while you’re this emotional but... it says I should check how dilated you are.” You choke on a sob before crying harder. 

“You are not shoving your hand up my vagina.” You yell at Jimin, he looks at you wide eyed. 

“No! No, I was just going to check and see with my eyes.” 

“That’s not how it works you fucking idiot!” You cry harder before biting your bottom lip. Jimin rocks back on his heels awkwardly, “I’ll go get a new hot towel.” He mutters meekly.

“We’re almost there!” Taehyung shouts to the pack, his furry body smacking against low hanging tree branches as he barrels towards the house. 

“I’m comin’ baby, I’m comin’.” He whispers as your screams begin to fill his ears.

Water slides down your legs as you feel your water burst. “Oh Christ.” Jimin says as he lays another towel on the floor. Your throat hoarse and burning as you scream again. Jimin’s small hand in yours as you squeeze with all your might. 

“FUCK!” You yell out taking in shallow breaths, the room feeling was too hot as you lurch forward. 

“Turn on the air conditioner!” You beg of your best friend and he does as told. You hear the glass door smacking open. You begin to cry with relief. 

“TAE!” You yell out, Jimin thanks God as the french doors of your bedroom slam open. 

“My babygirl.” Taehyung says eyeing over the situation. He’s on his knees in front of you in seconds. His hands rolling up your dress. He leans forward to give you a large sloppy kiss, your sweat smearing on his forehead as he bends down. 

“What the fuck have you been doing? This room isn’t ready for a birth at all!” Taehyung chides Jimin. He looks at Yoongi and Namjoon and they spring into action. 

“Take this off.” Taehyung says pulling at the nightgown. You look around at the guys before whimpering at the pain. 

“I’ll be naked.” You whisper to Tae who smirks. 

“You’ll be fine. They could care less. Their nephews are coming. It’s tradition.” Taehyung says tugging once more. You concede sitting there fully naked, you look down at your stomach as the veins turn black, you sit in a trance watching them as they swirl and jut out upwards towards your breasts. 

“This isn’t normal.” You whisper frightened, Taehyung kisses the top of your head quickly before grabbing two marble stools and placing them underneath your legs. 

“Yes, it is.” You suddenly realize you have no idea about any of this and it frightens you to your core. 

“I can’t do this!” You gasp shaking your head. 

“Y/N. Look at me. Baby, look at me.” You look up meekly and Taehyung gives you a smile. 

“You can do this. I have no doubt. Your doing great.” Yoongi and Namjoon enter the room quickly bringing supplies before closing the doors behind them. Taehyung sticks his arms in a yellow viscous liquid before drying them with a freshly opened towel out of a package. 

“Pick two guys to stay.” He says, his fingers feeling at your vaginal opening. 

“What?” You ask shocked as the six other men stare at you. 

“Pick two, a caretaker for each pup.” You swallow before another contraction hits, this one hard making you scream throwing your head back. 

“Good job baby, just breathe, you’re doing so good my girl.” Taehyung praises you as his hand enters into your vagina. You gasp loudly as he prods at you. The embarrassment you feel could not be topped and yet, it was incredible to see how knowledgeable he was and how loving he was being. 

“They’re coming, you must pick Y/N. We don’t have much time.” You look at the six men, all smiling at you. 

“But-But it’s not fair.” You say looking over your friends. 

“You’ll be having more pups. You can pick more then. Just pick two now.” Taehyung says grabbing towels and placing them carefully on the floor below you. He pulls you towards the end of the bed grabbing pillows next. He props you up and rubs your stomach. 

“Pick, Y/N.” You close your eyes. 

“Namjoon and Jimin.” You mutter feeling badly. 

“Good girl.” Taehyung says as he strips to his boxers. He crouches down in front of you and you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. He smirks at you and tilts his head. 

“What?” He asks as Namjoon and Jimin get on either side of you taking your hands into theirs. 

“This is just the strangest thing in the world.” Taehyung laughs loudly and it makes your heart flutter. 

“Yeah, if I didn’t know about this tradition, I’d say it was strange too.” You groan loudly as a contraction smacks you like an oncoming train, tears spilling over your cheeks instantly. 

“FUCK!” You scream loudly as you clutch at your best friends hands. 

“You’re doing amazing baby. Good girl.” Taehyung kisses up your thighs as he dunks his hands into the yellow liquid again. 

“It’s sterilizer.” He clarifies as he opens up another plastic wrapped towel. 

“Gotta stay clean.” You didn’t care, you truthfully just wanted this pain to subside. You wanted these pups out of you. Taehyung’s hand sides into your vaginal opening again and you gasp at the feeling. He retracts his hand quickly and locks eyes with you. 

“Push.” He says placing a hand on your stomach. You grit your teeth as you begin to push, veins in your temples bulging as you gasp for air. 

“Good job, baby!” Taehyung cheers as he looks down at you. You had forgotten about the two men at your sides as they stand their in silence. Namjoon kisses the top of your head and you look up at him nervously. He winks at you and gives you a long, closed mouth smile. His chin dimpling as you take a deep breath. 

“Again, push.” You do as told pushing with all your might. 

“I see hair! Keep going baby. You’re doing amazing!” 

“You see one?” You ask excited and Taehyung looks up at you, his eyes welling up with happy tears. 

“Keep going, my love.” You push again, the pain sharp in your mind as you scream as you feel everything. The feeling so raw. Feeling every small limb and bone push through you. Taehyung sobs gently as cradles one of the pups heads. 

“You got this.” Jimin cheers silently next to you. 

“One more push.” Taehyung announces clearing his throat. He sniffles as you give another push. He catches the first pup beginning to cry. 

“Namjoon.” Taehyung whispers as he cleans the first child with a new towel. He unwraps a large clean syringe and cleans the baby’s airways before a loud cry emits through the room. You blink back tears as pain defeats your happiness. 

“He’s beautiful.” You cry putting your free hand to your mouth, watching as Taehyung cuts the umbilical cord. Taehyung cries loudly falling backwards as Namjoon lifts him up, he sniffs the pup before his canines drop. 

“Namjoon!” You cry out as he brings the child to his mouth. Your fear growing as he opens his mouth. 

“What is he doing?! Stop him!” You yell out as you feels the next baby being pushed downwards by your muscles. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. He won’t hurt him.” Namjoon bites down gently on his thigh. Blood beginning to leak from your newborn baby. 

“Namjoon!” You yell loudly as the baby cries. 

“It’s the mark, the mark of his protector.” Namjoon retracts his canines before handing the pup back to Taehyung. 

“Shhh.” Taehyung whispers in the ear of the wailing child, the babies voice becoming quiet. 

“Good boy.” Taehyung praises before sniffing the pups head and kissing it. 

“Namjoon, hold him. The next one is coming.” Taehyung was right about that as you scream loudly. “Push for me, baby.” 

You lay in bed utterly spent as Taehyung cleans you. His tongue caressing your thighs as he cleans up around you. You stare at the ceiling in a pained daze. 

“Y/N. I am going to take your pain away. Okay?” Taehyung asks, your eyes slowly gazing towards him. You mumble as tears stream your cheeks silently. You look back up at the ceiling before releasing a shaky sigh. Everything was numb and so incredibly sharp at the same time. The pain pulsing through your veins while your limbs were dull. Taehyung looks you over again, his heart breaking watching you lay there like a rag doll. He lifts your arm as he sits on the bed. The dipping of the bed moving your body slightly and you whine at the pain. 

“I’ll make it all better.” He bites your wrist and you cry out, your head lifting off the bed. Taehyung stays like this for a few seconds, his fangs still in your skin. He pulls back before licking his bite, it heals within seconds and you begin to radiate with energy. It begins in your heart and spreads to the rest of your body, your black colored veins turning back to the original blue color. You head begins to clear of the fog that was present seconds before.  A sleepiness taking over you as you look up at your mate. 

“Sleep now, you’ve done so well, my girl. What a great mommy you are.” You fade away as your eyelids become heavy.

Taehyung sighs loudly before standing up. He slips on his sweats before padding over to the two cribs at the left corner of the room. He peers down at his pups and smiles widely. They looked like Y/N. How gorgeous they were, his own spawn. His children of the night. He falls to his knees as one begins to move around. He bites back a sob as his large hands run over their now clothed bodies. 

“My pups, how daddy loves you.” He lifts one pressing him to his chest. The warmth of the small child making him cry harder. He stumbles over to the large wooden chair next to the cribs. He sits down and rocks back and forth. His lips pressing against the pups temple. 

“Mommy and Daddy will take care of you for all your days. Like how the moon loves the sun. I will love you always.” His thumb caressing the small back of his child. He looks over at Y/N as she sleeps and he smiles. Nothing in the world could ever compare to this feeling. 

You wake up rubbing your eyes as you hear cries. You sit up without a twinge of pain and you look down at your body. It was like nothing had happened. 

“Wow.” You whisper standing up. You waltz over to the crying pup before scooping him up. The twins were identical aside from one beauty mark on the tip of their nose like Taehyungs. You kiss the beauty mark of the pup you were holding. His cry was loud making your ears ring. 

“Here goes nothing.” You mumble bringing the pup to your breast, hoping he would take to it immediately. You had read online that it was difficult for babies to nurse. You smile with relief as the pup takes to your breast like a duck to water. The french doors open and you turn to your incoming mate. He smiles before leaning against the wall, his arms folding as he watches you. 

“I knew I would be jealous.” He chuckles as you giggle. 

“Well, it doesn’t feel as good as when you did it.” You admit making him snort. 

“I’d fucking hope not.” He strides over to the opposite crib lifting the other pup. 

“What shall we name these two princes?” Taehyung asks sitting on the bed, he places the pups head on his bare shoulder as he rubs the baby’s small back. You ponder for a second before sitting next to him. You look down at the baby at your breast. 

“Chanhyeok” You say aloud, the words flowing off your tongue. Taehyung hums in agreement. 

“That’s a beautiful name, illuminating, bright.” Taehyung mutters listing the meaning. You smile at him and nod. Taehyung sniffs the pup in his arms before smirking.

“Baekhyeon.” He says before looking at you. You nod happily before looking at your family. Taehyung looks at your body before leaning in and kissing your cheek. 

“You know what I was just thinking?” Taehyung whispers in your ear, his tongue licking up your earlobe. 

“Hmm?” You ask as Chanhyeok finishes feeding. You begin to burp him before looking over at Tae. 

“You look too skinny. I need to give you more pups.” You snort before looking down at your pups. 

“You promised me two months.” He looks over your naked body before biting his bottom lip. “Two months. No more than that.” 

[stripyhorse23]

Films of the Year 2020

1) A Beautiful Day In The Neighbourhood

I re-watched this to make sure I wasn’t overrating it, but found myself every bit as moved, almost overwhelmed, as the first time I saw it.  The confidence of Marielle Heller’s filmmaking is such that nothing ever feels forced, her themes never have to be underlined, nor does she ever have to draw attention to the quietly excellent below-the-line elements.  Tom Hanks exudes warmth and compassion as Mr. Rogers, matched step for step by Matthew Rhys as the guarded, cynical journalist who resists the possibility of goodness and comfort with every fibre of his being.  Some of the most masterfully filmed conversation scenes of the year - the diner sequence alone is extraordinary.

2) Parasite

Hugely good fun, wildly unexpected, handles its tonal shifts fantastically with an ensemble cast that’s totally in tune to one another, and slickly channels the capitalist satire of Bong Joon-ho’s earlier films.  It’s not that Parasite is saying anything that different or original necessarily, but it feels utterly of its moment and despite its anarchic energy is never glib or peevish.  I squealed several times, laughed even more, and the film left me with a weird, immovable sense of melancholy.  Deeply impressive.

3) Portrait Of A Lady On Fire

The range that Céline Sciamma has shown over just four films!  Deliberately paced without ever feeling slow, I loved how invested this was in portraiture as an art form and how that folded into Marianne’s burgeoning feelings for Héloïse.  Unlike a lot of other love stories, and by nature of its subject matter, Portrait is interested not just in how its two protagonists make one another feel but how they perceive one another.  The ghostly apparitions that Marianne witnesses feel at first like a false note only for that to pay off beautifully in the final act.  Héloïse’s final words are up there with The Lives of Others in terms of last lines that make you break out in goosebumps.

4) And Then We Danced

For a film that’s so concerned with the hard lines of its dance movements, it’s appropriate how tuned-in the screenplay is to when it needs to puncture its atmosphere of repressive masculinity with compassion and tenderness.  Each relationship in the story is replete with texture and feeling, not just Merab’s rambunctious, chaotic home life, but also his dance partner / best friend.  What really made the movie for me was how focused it was on Merab’s own journey, outside of and alongside his relationship with another male dancer.

5) A Hidden Life

Malick is back, baby!  Doesn't quite reach the giddy heights of his filmography up to and including The Tree of Life and the three-hour runtime is a little punishing, but Malick is clearly working with a renewed sense of focus and purpose. Tracking the life of Franz Jägerstätter, a conscientious objector who was executed by the Nazis in 1943, I was unexpectedly and profoundly moved by A Hidden Life’s spiritual curiosity.  Franz's commitment to his faith might seem alien, but it becomes clear that it's the only thread he has to hold onto in order to see him through; even his relationship with his steadfast wife is defined by their shared religion.  The roving camera and Jörg Widmer's stunning depictions of bucolic life turned sour, as the small village community become spiteful and cruel, also feel like some sort of spiritual rebuke (and it's notable that we're kept closely within Franz's POV rather than venturing out into the atrocities that lie on the margins of the film).  I fully lost it when I realised that the title is taken from the monumental final paragraph of Middlemarch.

6) Never Rarely Sometimes Always

Eliza Hittman’s new film is definitely going where you think it’s going, but that hardly matters when the filmmaking and performances are this strong.  Whilst it’s concerned with the difficulties of obtaining an abortion for vulnerable young women, that’s not all that’s on its mind, and I was struck by how well it draws the patriarchal society these two teenagers have to manoeuvre through every day.  Hittman’s New York is a nightmare landscape, with Hélène Louvert’s cinematography expressively capturing the sense of oppressiveness and isolation that big cities can have on a person.  Like with Beach Rats, Hittman draws fine performances from her leads, ones that say a lot with very little dialogue, and of course the scene that gives the film its name is just fantastic.

7) Corpus Christi

Somehow manages to overcome its reliance on coincidences in the early going to become an exhilarating, deeply-felt film about the failures of organised religion and the limits of faith.  Bartosz Bielena could take me to church any day of the week, and he's truly electric as the ex-con who masquerades as the priest of a small town recently rocked by tragedy.  The plot could easily be that of a Hollywood rom-com, and it's to the film's credit that, aforementioned coincidences aside, it's always interested in digging deeper.  It's incredibly powerful as a testament to how difficult it is to confront the most difficult truths about ourselves and how grief is turned outwards.  The visceral, upsetting fight scene that closes the film is memorable, sure, but it’s the troubled character study at its centre that ensures Corpus Christi lingers.

8) Boys State

I suppose you might argue that finding a microcosm of American politics at an annual event where a group of 17-year-old boys are asked to form their own government is a little like shooting fish in a barrel, but directors Jesse Moss and Amanda McBaine mine their subject matter for much more than simple prescience.  Impeccably cast and edited, it manages to be simultaneously hugely entertaining (with true heroes and villains) and also an insightful, terrifying window into the glibness with which white American men treat both real world issues and anyone on the other side of the argument.  There were other, perhaps more accomplished documentaries released in 2020, but Boys State was so irresistibly of its time and so gripping because of that it kept creeping up in my estimation as the year wore on.

9) The Forty-Year-Old Version

What a fun, smart screenplay this is.  Which isn't to say there isn't plenty of other things that impress about this debut feature focused on an almost-forty-year-old Black woman who, frustrated with the dead end her career as a playwright seems to be facing, turns to rap as an alternative means of expression.  It's incredibly astute on the ways in which Black artists are forced to compromise to appease white gatekeepers and perceived audiences, a topic that it handles with equal parts anger and wry humour.  The film isn't blind, either, to the ways in which Radha's frustrations impact her relationships (particularly with her loyal agent/best friend).  When the only complaint you have about a film is that it suffers from a surfeit of ideas, it’s indicative of what a special, unique voice it possesses.

10) Rocks

A huge step up from the stolid, dishwater-y Suffragette.  The film’s deceptive simplicity in its depiction of a teenage girl and her younger brother who suddenly find themselves having to navigate an adult world they’re not ready for allows for the performances and screenplay to fill in the bustling, often joyful elements of Rocks’ life.  Cast perfectly top to bottom, some of the film’s best scenes are where Rocks and her mates are just hanging out, shooting the shit with one another.  And whilst there’s a heart-breaking centre to this particular story, it never feels reliant on pulling your heart strings, or leaning too heavily into the more troubling aspects of Rocks’ life.

Ten performances that I loved this year: Cosmo Jarvis in Calm With Horses, Joe Keery in Spree, Radha Blank in The Forty-Year-Old Version, Delroy Lindo in Da 5 Bloods, Bartosz Bielena in Corpus Christi, Cho Yeo-jeong in Parasite, Hugh Jackman in Bad Education, Alfre Woodard in Clemency, Johnny Flynn in Emma and Haley Bennett in Swallow.

[soniabigcheese]

Trick Or Treat?

Ho boy. The SimHood ... the most disliked Sim in my town, is trying to make amends for his rude behaviour.

And it attempting to do some early trick or treating.

Now, THAT is seriously starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel. And this poor gullible Sim .. is feeling sorry for him.

Don't be fooled by his 'innocent and happy expression', there's definitely something afoot here.

[iguessihavemore]

TD Garden Chap.2: Not Your Garden Variety Pt.2

I wanted to finish off this episode with this part, but I’m having trouble with a few scenes after what I have here, along with the plethora of shit going on lately that I’m guessing you can imagine. So I decided to make this a 2/3 instead. I feel like it gives a pretty good idea of what everybody is running off to do anyway, so I hope you enjoy it for now!

The host produced two folded pieces of paper from his back pocket, holding them out to the mass of teens in front of him. “Y’all ready for a little island/garden scavenger hunt-”

“IT’S CHALLENGE TIMEeEeE!!!” Jackson screeched, lunging forward and ripping both from him. Chris held his hands up palm-open at the boy.

Rosie rolled up one of her boxy sleeves. “Hey now-” She began lightly.

Nadine waved at her to stay, dancing forward instead. After a few quick steps, Nadine stretched over on one foot until she was nearly horizontal. The sudden image of her face at his chest made Jackson jump, and she took the opportunity to pluck one of the lists from him.

“Hrmph!” He grunted, tearing the remaining one open. Both teams leaned into their respective paper.

A noticeable rift was between the Cheshire Queens and Hare Hatters now, and the only ones within it were the conjoined twins. They both turned a head to a team, then at each other over their shared shoulder. Avery and Erika whispered until they reached a conclusion, opting to sidle towards the Queens.

Chris cleared his throat and began to explain what they were reading. “Both teams have to find twelve roses, then an additional double-headed rose. So thirteen in all.” A few eyes flicked towards the twins. “After that, you’ll see that there are a bunch of taped-on flower names. You only have to pick four.” The teens sighed in relief- finding upwards of twenty things hadn’t sounded like much fun.

“And you’re going to want to choose wisely. Once you collect all your flowers, you need to make a bouquet with them. It needs to have a theme, and it needs to not look like GARBAGE. Just saying that because I want you all to know that I don’t have faith in any of you, so just ‘not bad’ will suffice. The team that has the nicer bouquet may be able to win, even if it’s incomplete. However, your team can only end the challenge if you’ve collected all of your flowers.” The host explained.

Pathetically, Rosie whined, “So all this means…. when we find them, we HAVE to p- p- p- p- pick them…?”

“...Yeeeaaahhh…” Chris drawled blandly.

“Oh, Chris, I can’t-!” Rosie cried out.

“Ah-ah!” Chris harshly waved off her outburst. Her bottom lip quivered agape, but she opted to start fretfully biting her nails instead.

“Now, with my flawless photographic memory, we dumped the stuff…” Chris muttered under his breath, squinting into the distance with his hands bordering his face. Lucas perked up out of his pouting long enough to curiously come up behind him, twisting the host a few inches to the side. “Right there!” Chris immediately said, motioning in that direction with his hands like an aircraft marshall. Lucas put his fists on his hips proudly.

“Go down that way, and you’ll find all the supplies you’ll need for making a bouquet. It’s also where we threw all your luggage.”

Jackson snapped his head up from reading the list. His knees started to bob as he listened more intently.

“And that’s all you really need to know-” Chris began to conclude, prompting Jackson to jump up and tear towards where they were directed.

The action alone set an uneasy energy through the rest, impatiently eying Chris. He gave an irritated sigh and a short nod, and the tense batch of teens took off, just itching to begin this game.

All but one, that is.

“Wh- hey! What are you all doing!?” Roger yelled, throwing his hands up. “You’re going the wrong way!”

“Come on Roger, catch up!” Jennifer impatiently ordered him.

“But- but- don’t we need roses? There was a bush full of them but- they’re in the other direction!!” He was just about screaming to be heard as the distance between him and the others grew larger, but what he said stopped them in their tracks.

Within seconds, Paulie swiveled on her heel and rushed backwards, toothily grinning. She shoved the team scepter into the muscular crook of Tony’s arm as she passed. He blinked down at it.

A few members of the Hare Hatters were up to the task, but Cameron was the one who broke into a run for it first. “I got this!” She cockily assured the rest. With a person from each team on it, most of them went back to barreling towards the tools and luggage.

Roger only watched the girls go past him. “I don’t-” He huffed, confused and irritated. “Which way are we going, then!? Why do we even need to run-” 

Amelia jogged back for him. Her voice even more feathery than usual, she told him, “Paulie’s going to get the flowers. Come on Roger, let’s go get our stuff!” She flashed a smile at him and took his hand in hers.

“AH UH oh,” Roger failed to object, probably unsure if he wanted to, and simply allowed her to lead him into running with the others.

They passed in front of both sets of sisters: the twins, who were the only ones who opted to walk, and Stella and Marina, who were jogging lightly side-by-side. Stella watched after them, eyes half-lidded. “REAL dumb.”

*The Shed: Stella and Marina* The adopted sisters sat on either side of the bench. Stella was slumped over, idly toying with a trowel, while Marina addressed the camera. “Too many people assume that Stella isn’t smart because she can’t communicate well. But that isn’t the case at all! She’s full of good thoughts and ideas.”

She looked at her sister. “People like Roger who are able to process and communicate neurotyically but can’t… do a lot with it?” She bashfully rose a brow, trying not to say ‘dumb.’ “Might make Stella a bit jealous.” *End* *III*

Cameron and Paulie were heading full-speed towards the winner’s cabin. Paulie’s lime-colored coils bounced behind her, and Cameron’s plum hair hopped around her face, the green tips flying wildly. They shared a competitive smile as they kept pace with one another, a playful edge to their respective dusty red and dark pink eyes.

When they came to the bush, they wasted no time in circling it and grabbing their roses, getting a little nicked by the thorns in the process. Paulie jumped away from it first, whirling around pridefully. “First!”

“Tch, well-” Cameron was prepared to retort, but her final grab for her last rose came up empty. “Wha? Heheh.” She held up a finger to silently ask that Paulie wait. The baker responded by shifting her weight to one foot and putting her empty hand on hip, smirking.

Cameron searched around it a few more times. She stomped up to Paulie suspiciously. “How is it that YOU got twelve roses and I got all the way up to eleven, but there aren’t ANY more left?”

Paulie shrugged. “Man, I don’t know, you see that I only got a dozen!”

Cameron counted them and deflated. “Awfully strange it only had twenty-three.” She frowned at her own incompletely bundle.

“Probs just a coincidence and not, like, something they planned. It ain’t anybody’s fault how many times the thing tries to reproduce. Or whatever roses are biologically for.” Paulie mused.

“Yeah… but it’s your fault that you’re gonna eat my dust!” Cameron charged off.

“Oh-HO!” The punk gleefully followed suit.

*The Shed: Paulie* “I really only did pick a dozen!” Paulie flashed her now-empty hands forward. She reached behind her back and pulled out her thirteenth rose, giving it a sniff. “Well, a baker’s dozen, but who’s counting?” *End* *III*

Soon enough for the head of the pack, two tables came into view. He rushed by both, completely ignoring them to get to the stacks of bags and suitcases at the end of the clearing. Not that he cared, but the foliage around him consisted mostly of twiggy shrubs and patches of wild flowers.

Jackson located his duffel bag with an excited wheezy noise, immediately lunging for it. 

CLANG

A second too late, his eyes unfocused enough to let him see that he was careening for a metal cage. And then his face ran into it.

“ooOWW!” He seethed, pulling himself up. “What?” He scrambled around the metal frame, trying to get to his stuff until he finally realized it was stuck inside. He found a padlock and yanked it to no avail. “A hostage situation!?”

Jennifer trotted up behind him, followed by Tony, Jupiter in a sweat, and Amelia with Roger. They all understood that their stuff was locked inside the cage without needing to run into it.

Jupiter noticed the other team come up to a second cage, spaced exactly like the tables. “Guess we only get our things when the challenge ends- er- I mean when we win, eh?” They attempted a smile.

“You betcha!” Amelia agreed, freeing Roger from herself. He turned away, crossing his arms to stare only at the sky if not nervously side-eyeing the actress. Amelia addressed Jackson, putting on a worried expression. “Chris will doubtfully let us get anything from there for awhile. Is that okay? No immediate concerns?”

Jackson brushed off his knees. “Nah, I just needed to make sure nobody got their grubby hands on my stuff! Looks like it’s safe- for now…” He suspiciously surveyed the clearing.

“Now,” Jennifer stepped closer. “May I finally get my hands on THIS?” She swiped down and tore their list from his tight grasp. He nervously chuckled and apologized, which Jennifer rolled her eyes at.

At last, the conjoined twins made it to the area. There was still a wide gap between the teams. They could have decided to stay in the middle of that and render themselves utterly useless, but opted to gravitate towards the Hare Hatters this time. They were greeted to Rosie speedily pacing back and forth, panicking out loud. 

Marina and Stella were climbing on the cage; Nadine and Annabelle were examining the array of tools on the table. They were all clearly keeping watch of the nature enthusiast.

“You’re supposed to leave nature as is!” She fretted. “I can’t possibly go against camping 101, rule numero UNO! I WILL FALL APART!”

“Oh, that hasn’t happened yet?” Annabelle lazily quipped.

Marina had been sitting with her eyebrows cinced in thought. Her demeanor brightened and she hopped to the ground, walking over to Rosie. “Rosie, this isn’t camping- this is a garden! It follows different rules than what you’re used to.” She sent a mauve smile up to her, gesturing for her to lower her fingers from her teeth.

“In fact, it helps a lot of plants to pick off the flowering part. And there’s not really an ecosystem we can disrupt here. Trust me, Stella and I are from a farm, we know all about it!” The singer explained.

“Farms are…” Rosie clenched her hands. “My nightmare. They’re so close to what I’m used to, just… less fun.”

Marina chuckled. “They aren’t that bad! Give them a try.”

“It’ll be like camping in bizarro-world.” Annabelle offered.

Rosie whined out. She relaxed with defeat.

Cameron and Paulie burst through the entry of the clearing in a flurry of panting. Rosie was now sound-of-mind enough to bother noticing Cameron stumble her way towards their team.

The ghost hunter held out the bundle of roses, her shoulders slumped. “Shitty new, you guys…” Rosie, unseen by the others, squinted.

“Got ‘em!” Paulie proudly thrust her set of flowers toward the other Queens.

“Yes!” Jackson pumped his fists. Jupiter took notice of the pinpricks on her fingers, and Amelia sighed dreamily at the pastel pink blooms.

“We should make a romantic bouquet!” The actress said.

“Uh-huh,” Jennifer voiced without interest, lowering the list she was reading. “Or we could make it goth.”

Amelia scoffed. To her shock, Paulie and Jackson gasped in delight. “YEAAAH!! GOTH BOU-QUET, GOTH BOU-QUET!” They chanted.

“I guess it would be a cool first impression?” Jupiter mused.

“Uhhhh… did you guys even look at them-?” Amelia started to argue, but paused. A mischievous smile crossed her lips.

“Chris is- he’ s like- almost here.” Tony informed everyone. With much (unneeded) urging from Jackson, Jennifer began peeling off flower names that they wouldn’t be using.

In between the two tables, Chris stood with his fists planted on his waist. “THANKS for making me take that walk. God knows my rigorous professional workout plan isn’t cutting it.” He complained. “Alright gardeners, I’ll be taking those flowers you don’t want now.”

The Hatters sent Nadine to take their handful of paper slips, and Jupiter had offered to go for the Queens.

Chris held his palms out. “May I ask what you guys decided on? By which I mean you have to tell me ‘cause there’s no way I’m looking through this mess to figure out which ones aren’t in it?”

Nadie looked up at him happily as she placed the scrap clump in his hands. “We decided on a cute, bright bouquet!” 

“Cool! Not what I asked.” Chris responded.

“We picked a bunch of blue and yellow flowers to go with this pink we got,” Rosie chimed in, flipping her wrist at the roses.

“-Still didn’t ask-”

“So we’re going to p- find- pic- grab some daffodils, snowdrops, forget-me-knots, and pansies.” Rosie read off their list.

“Alright. Cheshire Queens?” 

“We decided on the exact opposite- a goth bouquet.” Jennifer said.

“Lit-er-ally I DON’T care!” Chris barked.

Jennifer’s teeth gleamed with pride. “I know. We chose to find orchids, hydrangeas, carnations, and…” Her tone faltered for once. “... pansies.”

“Erg- why did we pick that!?” Amelia whispered.

“How could I have known!” Jennifer snapped back.

Chris clamped down on the papers dropped into his hand, causing Jupiter to jump. “Too late! Guess you guys are gonna have to share!” He taunted. “I’ll leave you to it. Just remember, you can’t end the game unless you have all of your flowers. And once you do, you can end it whenever your bouquet is ready.” He sauntered away after giving those last reminders.

The teens were awkwardly stagnant around the tables after his absence, not mingling too far. Marina was the only one who verbally stated she and her sister were going to search around the immediate clearing first, an idea shared with the others as they started to shuffle around the shrubbery.

It didn’t take long for Jackson to get fidgety about this, however. “Where’s that bush!? I bet that special rose is inside it!” He sprung into the air and dashed off.

“I can- wrap you up so you don’t get- injured.” Jupiter fiddled with the edge of their coat as they spoke towards him, turning as he passed.

“No time-”

Paulie jumped into his path and caught him by his shoulders. “Ah ah ah!” She spun him around. “We don’t want you looking like me, now.” She waved one of her scar-littered arms in his face while she shoved him back.

He grumbled and stuck his heels in the dirt, but all it did was leave marks in the ground. Jupiter smiled awkwardly and dug out a roll of gauze from their inner pocket.

“Sooo....” Annabelle voiced on the Hatters side, rocking backwards. “It would make sense to split up, yeah?”

“I’ll go with the sisters.” Nadine piped in, motioning her thumb at the two in a nearby flowerbed. Avery and Erika seemed to hang their heads just a little.

Cameron grinned, brushing off her hands. “I’m down with splitting. But first, does that list come with any pictures? I’m not sure I know what a sno- ACK!”

She had tried to lean in to see the paper Rosie was holding, but Rosie shot two fingers into the girl’s hairline, pushing her away with a strained grimace of a smile. “Now, Cameron, I thought you were going to take care of the roses? That’s the first thing you ever told our team you were going to do, and you didn’t complete it! That’s not a very look.” She bent down, fingers still harshly pushing into her bangs. “How can you expect us to trust you with anything else? Find that last rose, and then you can help the rest of us.”

Cameron stumbled back, eyebrows cinched incredulously. The rest of the team behind Rosie were clearly shocked by the scene. Annabelle coughed into her fist, bringing Rosie back to focus. The others were able to look nonchalant in time before she turned around. 

“I was thinking I would take off with you?” Annabelle asked, finger-gunning at the nature enthusiast.

Rosie cocked her head with a relaxed smile, as if nothing had happened. “I don’t mind the company one bit!”

They turned to leave, Annabelle throwing Cameron a confused shrug over her shoulder. The ghost hunter rubbed her forehead.

The twins kept to themselves at the outskirts; Nadine went over to the remaining sisters. Jennifer watched the Hatters more or less break off, and decided to speak up to her own team.

“Alright, we should start spreading around the island.” She looked around at the state of the Queens- Paulie idly leaning against a post caught her eye.

Paulie flicked her gaze to the goth as she drew near, a smirk crossing her face. “Yeah, I’ll be on that as soon as ’m sure Jackson’s all good. Don’t think Jups will catch him if he runs away.”

Jennifer peered over her shoulder at the two sitting on the ground. Jupiter tucked some gauze around Jackson’s fingers, and through his pout, he reluctantly said, “...At least I’ll look like a badass brawler.”

“Oh, I’m just kinda covering your hands. Do you want me to wrap you up like a boxer?” Jupiter offered.

He shook his platinum, choppy locks. “Nuh-uh, no way. ‘Wasting enough time as it is.”

Jupiter nodded and went back to work. Jackson squirmed.

“...Give me the fighter wrap…” He conceded to his inner desires. Jupiter began to undo the current bandages without question.

Jennifer placed her hands on her hips and sighed upwards. “What a fanatic.” She grumbled. “But it is a pretty good idea that I know I don’t want to do.” She relented, getting a chuckle out of Paulie.

Jennifer put her attention to the table instead. There she saw Amelia blissfully humming on a large rock, tapping the roses on the table surface like a secretary straightening her paperwork.

“...The hell are you doing?” She came up to her curiously.

Amelia regarded her with a smug pause. “You decided to make a dark, gloomy bouquet with these pretty pink flowers! It’ll take a bit to dye them a more fitting shade. Plus, someone needs to hold fort. Honestly, it should be obvious.”  She flicked her wrist at the goth and reached for a bottle of dark dye with the other.

“Oh! Well in that case, get your ass up and actually help.” Jennifer barked. “You aren’t going to be making excuses to look busy, especially when all the rest of us are working.”

Amelia’s eyebrows rose lazily, not bothering to look up. “I have countless hours in set design and prop building, honey. Sorry to be frank, but nobody can do this better than me.” She briefly looked Jennifer in the eye. “It’s simply the wrong move to have me do anything else.”

Jennifer was definitely about to argue, but a light tap on her shoulder stopped her before she began.

“Ah-!” Roger startled. “I trust Amelia to know what she’s talking about.”

Jennifer groaned, rubbing her temples. “FINE. Let her have her way. Of course the little princess gets to be the only one sitting around- not surprised.” She stomped away, but not before yanking Roger by his upper arm. “You’re coming with me. I can’t risk you imprinting on anybody else.”

“Hey, wh- I don’t get what you’re saying-!” He stumbled to catch up with the arm she was dragging him away with.

Amelia watched them go with her sparkly blues. “Hm.” She cockily shrugged to herself.

*The Shed: Jennifer* “Any other day if somebody tried to pull that with me on a group project, I would have grabbed them over that table by their stupid done-up hair.” Jennifer was leaned over close to the camera, pointing at her long and loose dark hair, but meaning Amelia’s auburn brown, heavily curled locks. “Unfortunately I can’t trust anybody here yet to not see me as the bad guy in that situation.” *End*

”Ooh I’m just gonna sit here and decorate like it’s HARD,” Jennifer mocked under her breath as she trudged past Rosie and Annabelle on her way out. She ignored Roger telling her that it was Amelia who was doing that and not her.

“Oh! Decorating! That’s what this is in the end, isn’t it?” Annabelle stopped in her tracks and turned to Rosie excitedly. “Hey, you think I can hang out and plan that bouquet? I love this kind of ribbons and artsy junk.”

Rosie’s head sunk. “Better you than me.”

“Cool, won’t let you down.” Annabelle smiled confidently with a snap of her fingers. She went back to the table as Rosie left the clearing behind her.

Marina intently noticed the absence of their giant teammate. Much to Nadine’s annoyance, who’d been trying to get the sisters to leave with her for a while now. The black girl walked closer to Annabelle. “Annabelle! I’m so glad you stuck around.”

“Oh, yeah?” She lifted her head quizzically. “Did you need me somethin���? Haha.”

“I wanted to make a team huddle about Rosie. It looks like we’re all here except for her- good.” Marina explained. This instantly drew Cameron in. Marina flicked her eyes toward the conjoined twins, but considering how intense their staring was, figured they would listen in without invitation, anyway.

Once they began a true little huddle, she continued. “I think cursing is what’s setting Rosie off. For whatever reason, she looks really upset when swears or suggestive things are said.”

“Dang, she’s too tall for me to notice.” Annabelle said.

“Are you serious!? THAT’S why she snapped on me?” Cameron shouted.

Annabelle chuckled. “I guess I noticed that one.”

“I think we’ll go a lot further if we don’t say things that bother her so much.” Marina added. “If she’s the type to lash out like this.”

“That blows.” Cameron further complained.

Nadine crossed her arms under her shirt’s panda icon. “I don’t like tip-toeing around, and Rosie’s reaction earlier wasn’t acceptable, but I also want to be a functioning team. Keeping as many hands on deck for as long as possible just makes sense.”

“Y- Maybe for you guys, but I’m already on her bad side!” Cameron threw her hands up. “This is going to suck double for me.”

“We’re on your side if she keeps giving you trouble.” Nadine reassured her.

“Hmm…” Marina cupped her dark brown chin. “You could maybe avoid that by apologizing to her? It’ll be hard for her to be passive aggressive if you make it clear you didn’t want to hurt her.”

Cameron sputtered a bit. “Aw, she doesn’t really deserve an apology- I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“It’s not really about deserving....” Annabelle explained. “It’s about her chilling out and not bothering you or us anymore.”

“Er... also that even though you didn’t mean to, cursing upsets her! And unless you meant to upset her, you want her to know you feel bad that you did!” Marina added once again. “In fact, you’re in the right if you want an apology in return.”

“But that isn’t likely if you don’t give her one first.” Nadine said with an edge of finality. She gave Cameron a quirked brow.

She groaned, slumping over. “I don’t wanna… but fine, whatever. But uh- heheh- not until I find that rose. Don’t want her focusing on that the whole time, y’know?”

Stella had wandered a foot away quite some time ago, the twins never ceased staring, and the rest agreed in some fashion to keep it PG before breaking off.

The ghost hunter sighed a long sigh, pushing her hands down her face.

*The Shed: Cameron* “Maaan being the bigger person is disgusting!” She whined, lying on her back sprawled on the bench. “Like, it literally turns my stomach.” *End*

Behind her, Jackson jumped into the air loudly proclaiming, “Finally! Now to give that rose bush a piece of my miiiiind!!” He charged away.

Cameron perked up, whirling in the direction he had gone. Her purple eyebrows lowered in determination, silently taking after him.

Satisfied, Paulie stretched off the post she was leaning on. Her hands dropping behind her head, she studied the environment. A sight caught her eye in the distance.

Jupiter eyed the dark-skinned girl to see what she would do now that they were both free. Paulie started to skip forward, completely away from them. Jupiter figured.

As she passed by the twins, Paulie gave them a wink and told them the first inspirational thought that came to mind. “Knock ‘em dead!” Finally, she got to the Hare Hatter trio and looped her arms around the shoulders of Nadine and Stella, the latter tossing her off immediately.

*The Shed: Avery and Erika* They sighed.

“We knew it. They have no idea what to do with us.” Erika pouted.

“Once there stops being important stuff to do, we’ll undoubtedly get the typical million questions, which is fine.” Avery said, “But right now they would probably all rather have us out of the way.”

“I mean, it’s fine that they don’t know what we can do, but they could ask! Because heaven knows…” Erika trailed off.

“We can’t…” Avery tried to finish.

They two sighed harder, defeatedly saying in unison, “...Speak up ourselves.” *End*

“‘Eyo!!” Paulie greeted her anti-teammates, swinging off of Nadine. “Mind a bit more company?”

“You’re on the other team.” The tallest of the four stated, picking up one of Paulie’s fingers and moving it away.

“I knoooooow, doesn’t that suck ass!?! We got to take every opportunity to hang out with each other now!” Paulie pumped her fist. “Queens and hats and yadda yadda won’t stop ME from making friends, ha!”

Nadine opened her mouth to retort, but caught the sudden surge of positive energy from Marina and Stella, practically becoming two bright little suns. She pursed her lips silently instead.

“We love to make new friends! Stella, aren’t you a great friend?” Marina asked her sister, barely containing her excitement.

Stella lifted her fists over her head with a smile so wide it shut her eyes. “YEAH!”

“Ahhh…” Paulie vocalized a low shout. “You guys are jazzing me up, now. This is going to be great!” She peeked at Nadine’s smirk, and looped around her shoulder once more, whispering into the fabric over her ear, “I also didn’t want to hang out with Jenny Downer, y’know what I’m saying?”

“I get you.” Nadine reached for Paulie’s farthest shoulder and pushed her back onto her feet. “Now what were you saying Marina?”

“Oh, I was just letting you know that Stella-”

“YEAH!”

“-Was totally listening to us before. I know she wandered off, but to her, she doesn’t have to look focused in order to be paying attention. As long as she can hear you, she’s usually listening.”

“Not much for group huddles, then.” Nadine said warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind, not that I minded before.”

“Oh hey, I saw that!” Paulie piped in. “You guys looked super serious. Like, the most intense meeting for a bouquet I’ve ever seen.”

“We were actually talking about Rosie throwing a scene. It’s a pain already.” Nadine pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s been acting hostile toward Cameron ever since she came back with the flowers.”

Paulie’s perkiness faltered, perspiration forming under the brim of her black bandana. “Th- that so? About not having all the- haha, yikes!”

*The Shed: Paulie* “My little sleight of hand wasn’t supposed to get anyone in trouble!” Paulie fretted. “Honest to godess I was just joshing! Now I feel like the world’s most bonafide douchebag. Give me my shithead degree! I deserve it!” *End* *III*

The albino cast member fidgeted. They tried to take note of their surroundings without annoying anyone else still around.

Their sibling was over at the Hatter’s table completely absorbed in the instruments at her disposal. Amelia was busy at theirs’. Paulie was just leaving their sight with three of the other team, and the conjoined twins had slipped off between blinks.

Jennifer had long since dragged Roger off to search higher into the island, and Jackson was retracing steps of their tour to find the double-headed rose. Jupiter sighed lightly, noticing the only person of the Queens that seemed to be idle, like them.

They cautiously approached Tony, who was leaning over some wildflowers. As soon as the shadow of their person crossed his sight, however, he shot his head up. He barely noticed Jupiter, saw that mostly everyone was gone, and made his way straight to the table. Jupiter only stuck around long enough to see Amelia look up at him. They rolled their shoulders, unsure, and made off in an unwandered direction alone.

[lumiolivier]

Life Update of 2020 (Don’t Worry.  Just the Good-Good)

It’s been a while since we last spoke, huh, Tumblr?  I don’t pay you nearly as much attention as what I should, but I’m scattered all over cyberspace.  I show up in the most unexpected places.  But what the alternate title of this is:

Lumi’s Post of Shameless Self Promotion (Because What Else is a Blog Good For?)

So, what have I been up to, you may be asking yourself?  Or maybe you’re not asking that question and you’re telling me to fuck off.  Well, if that’s the case, then fuck you, too.  So, hail Satan and have a lovely afternoon madam.

But if you are curious, here we are.  Let’s do this in sections.  That way, if you could give two shits less about something else I do, then, you can skip to the good bits, yeah? Or whatever it is you follow me for, K? Let’s get into it then.

1.)  Fan Fiction:

So, in my last master post update, I hadn’t started posting Castlevania yet.  It just recently came to an end last week, so...Brief synopsis and link in three...two...one!

Last of the Belmonts

Eden had lost her mother. The only family she thought she'd ever have. Her father couldn't be farther at the bottom of the barrel in her eyes. Her mother would be the only one who would accept her dhampir nature. That is until she finally starts to explore the other half of her blood, her vampiric half, courtesy of a certain girl gang of full-blooded vampires. However, despite that, she's still half human. Which half will rule her head and her heart?

Just a heads up.  If you do read Last of the Belmonts (which I highly recommend.  I loved this story so much and I’m so sad to see it go.), there are slight mentions of rape, but they’re far and few in between.  Eden, the MC, is a dhampir.  And for those who don’t know, dhampirs are a human/vampire hybrid.  She wasn’t one of the lucky ones who came into this world by consensual means.  Most of them aren’t.  But before you ask, NO.  SHE IS NOT DRACULA’S DAUGHTER.  We find out just who she is throughout the story.  But it’s got a little bit of everything in it.  It’s got Trevor and Alucard sassing each other.  It’s got Sypha trying to mediate between them.  It’s got a MC that’s got a chip on her shoulder.  I like to call it an alternative season three.  Like, the story opens up in Braila after Carmilla’s raid, so...I’m not going to give too much for spoilers here.  Just...Read the damn thing if you’re that curious.  And I’ve been getting asked about a sequel, but I’m not quite sold on it yet.  

But Castlevania isn’t the only fandom I’ve dipped my toe in as far as fic goes.  Because...It’s been three years since I last wrote for Death Note and I got a friendly reminder of how big of Death Note trash I was when I fell down a fanart rabbit hole one night and thought, I need to jump back into writing Death Note fic.  It’s that kind of a year.  What the hell?  Why not?  And because I was feeling particularly thirsty, I decided I’d write my first Lawlight fic.  Which...Again, same as I did for Last of the Belmonts, synopsis and link!  BAM!

The Sweet Taste of Silver

Email after email...It only made Light sicker to look at them. Final notice. Past due. Expulsion threats. He knew going to one of the best schools in the country would be pricey, but that's what his scholarships were for, right? At least until they start running out. At least he'll have his internship...And his new employer.

Yeah.  It’s what you think.  It’s a sugar baby AU.  We all know Light’s a sugar baby waiting to happen and it’s an underappreciated AU on Ao3, so I figured I’d add to the rich tapestry it is.  But this is still ongoing.  It gets updates every Tuesday.  This story has been my new lightning in a bottle.  It’s gotten a lot of traction on Ao3 and you are definitely more than welcome to it.  I never thought I’d get so into writing angsty gays like I did with L and Light, but holy hell.  It’s so much fun...Why did no one tell me this would be fun?  I don’t know why I needed a sugar baby Death Note fic, but dammit, here we are.

Amongst all that mess, I’ve posted a SHIT TON of Mystic Messenger oneshots (even got my first commission because of those oneshots!).  They’re all on Ao3.  There’s probably 11 or 12 of them, so I’m not going to post the whole list here.  Just go to my Ao3 account.  You’ll see them there.  But since we’re on the subject of MysMes fics I’ve written over the years, I started doing a rewrite of Man’s Best Intern, too!  I mean, the story premise is still the same, but it’s had some tweaks here and there.  And that’s damn near catching up to the Sweet Taste of Silver.  My babies are all growing up so fast.  I’m so proud of them...But the Man’s Best Intern rewrite is going up on Ao3 every Wednesday and Friday.

And the last fic I’m going to throw out here is For the Family.  Now, for those of you who remember, last year, I posted a story called Switch about a little girl that grew up in New York mafia falling in love with a sweet, yet salty yakuza boy and getting tangled up with the Ouran Host Club.  Well, it got a sequel.  Again.  Link and synopsis, ho!

For the Family

One year. That's all it took for Rei's heart to find home in another city. But it wasn't necessarily the city that captured her heart. it was the cute yakuza boy that bumped into her in the hallway. And thought she was a dude. Anyone else would've been afraid of someone with that kind of power...but not everyone had that same power. Now that another summer has passed, Rei and Ritsu were ready to go back to Ouran to take on their mutual frenemies: The Ouran Host Club

I couldn’t stay away from them for long.  They were too cute.  I loved Rei and Ritsu’s dynamic and they’ve only gotten worse.  At the time I’m posting this, For the Family is ongoing, too.  It goes up on Thursdays and I love this one so much.  It’s been a roller coaster already and it hasn’t even gotten to the middle bit yet.  This coming week’s chapter may or may not be a shit show.

I know I said that I’d be done with my fan fiction bullshit after my pitch of For the Family, but I also kind of have something cooking up.  I’ve been working on a project that’s been completely handwritten for Hetalia that includes both the 1p! and 2p! characters, centered around an OC.  I’ve been debating on whether or not to post that one online.  Because it’s been mostly me writing it for me to unwind at night.  It’s what I’ve spent my last half hour of my day working on and it’s put me in such a good place.  Which is weird because the MC spends a lot of time with 2p!France and he’s kind of an asshole. I don’t know.  I’ll think about it.

2.)  New Schedule Changes?  Instagram?  Whaaaat?

I know.  That sounds like it still pertains to my fan fiction here.  It does not!  On my Instagram for the last few weeks, I’ve been doing livestreams on Friday nights.  It’s mostly just me sitting down and bullshitting with a camera, but it’s been some great fun!  For the first one, I made curry.  For the second one, I was working on a bullet journal spread.  They’re all just very chill livestreams with a little hint of chaotic.  My last post before this one?  That was from last week’s stream when we were talking about different CMV projects I’d love to make, but I don’t have the bodies to make them.  As mellow as they are, they’re also a lot of fun.  So, if you’re looking for something to do with your Friday night and feel like hanging out with me, come hang out with me.  My IG handle is LumiOlivier.  You’re more than welcome to come sit and hang out.  If my streams keep going they way they’ve been, maybe I’ll start doing more with them.  Maybe I’ll bring them to YouTube.  Maybe I’ll do something silly like do them more than once a week.  

But that’s pretty much it.  I’ve been, like most of you, shut up in my house for the last six months as much as possible.  This year might be shit, but there’s been some pretty neat shit happening.  And hopefully, it’ll be more of an upswing for the rest of it.  So, I’m going to go because I have a chapter I need to do for Wednesday tonight and an outline to do.  K, love you, bye! 

[gaamagirl565]

Matters of the heart ep 7

Matters of the heart Episode 7 Learning from the best {OPENING CREDITS} {Open to Isaiah playing with Draki on the hay bale} Isaiah: *giggles as Draki slithers over him* Draki! Ah! That tickles! {Draki nuzzles into his neck; Isaiah pets him} Isaiah: Love ya too buddy… {Varian walks out of the house tying up his hair} Isaiah: Dad! Dad! Look at this new trick Draki and I can do! Ready boy? {Isaiah tosses Draki in the air and as he comes back down Isaiah reaches his hand up and lets his snake effortlessly glide from one arm to the other and onto a nearby tree branch} Varian: wow...you two are getting good at that...just...Be careful okay? Isaiah: Daaaaddd...I milk his venom every day plus Draki would never hurt me! Right, Draki?...Draki? {Pan to Ruddiger hissing at Draki and Draki doing the same; Isaiah runs over and picks up his snake} Isaiah: Can you two go one day without fighting!? {Zapada walks into frame} Zapada: Snakes always seem to have a chip on their shoulder in my opinion… Varian: Well hello there… {Varian walks over and kisses her forehead} Varian: Isaiah, aren’t you going to say hello? Isaiah: *rolls eyes*...hello… {Varian narrows his eyes; Isaiah looks away} Varian: Don’t worry...give him time Zapada: E în regulă, iubirea mea...I just came to give you luck for your big day… Isaiah: Big day? Varian: Your grandfather is going to be teaching me the ins and outs of leadership… Isaiah: Can I come too!? Draki and I would love to help! Right Draki? {Draki pops his head out from a bush with a mouse in his mouth} Varian: Well normally this kind of event is for the current leader and the heir...but I don’t see why you can’t ask your grandfather if-? Isaiah: WOOHOO! Zapada: I will come too...If it’s okay of course... I will how you say..S-Spectate… Varian: how can I refuse you? {Zapada blushes and pulls on her cloak; Isaiah gags; cut to Varian walking onto the field with Isaiah and Zapda in tow} Quirin: There are my boys! You ready to get started? Varian: Actually dad...Isaiah has something he wants to ask. Quirin: Oh, Really? Isaiah: C-can I learn too? Quirin: well normally the tests of a leader are for the heir but...I don’t see why not. Isaiah: Yes! {Zapada sits off to the side} Zapada: Go team-...oh my...who do I root for? {cut to a hillside} Quirin: The first test is a test of strength...you must these two barrels must get to the bottom of the hill without damaging the goods inside and load them onto the cart below. It’s a steep incline so all your muscles will be working. Good luck! {Varian picks up the two barrels and slowly makes his way down the hill; Meanwhile, Isaiah has trouble lifting the two heavy barrels} Isaiah: urrgh! This is impossible...Dads lived on the farm his whole life, of course, he’s used to it...hmmm. {Isaiah gets an Idea and put the Barrels on their sides} Zapada: What is he….oh no… {Isaiah ties a rope around them and slowly starts lowering them down the hill; the rope snaps and Isaiah struggles to grab one of the barrels and it pulls him down the hill at a high speed; he zooms past Varian and plunges into the cart turning all the apples in the barrels to mush} Varian: Isaiah! {Varian, Zapada, and Quirn rush over to the cart} Varian: Buddy, are you okay!? Isaiah: *giggling* l-lets do that again! Varian: Phew… Quirin: Well considering you damaged both barrels, Isaiah...Varian wins. Isaiah: But I got here first! Varian: but you damaged the apples… Isaiah: And made a new product!...apple sauce… {Varian has an “are you serious look and we cut to the next test} Quirin: This test is a test of Cunning...you’ll need all your brainpower to figure this out...at the top of this tree is a flag...your goal is to retrieve it by any means. Don’t think you can just climb it. The thorns on this tree are poisonous. Touch one and you’ll wish you hadn’t. Zapada: wait...if you can’t climb it...how did you get the flag up there? Quirin: Not through easy means. Zapada: *gulps* be careful, Varian! Varian: Don’t worry! Your man has got this! {Isaiah examines the tree and gets and idea} Isaiah: Draki! Here boy! {Draki slithers up his arm} Isaiah: Think you can get that flag? {Draki looks up and hisses before slithering onto the tree} Varian: What the? {Draki gets to the top, grabs the flag and come down} Quirin: Isaiah wins! Varian: EYYY! He used a snake that’s cheating! Quirin: nope! I said by any means… Isaiah: Looks like I’m a better leader… Varian: oh ho...really? Zapada: oh dear… Varian: care to place a wager on that? Isaiah: now you’re speaking my language...lets so whomever wins the most cleans the lab for a month. Varian: deal! {they shake hands; begin montage of the challenges} Quirin: this test is one of diplomacy! {shows two sets of kids fighting over and apple; Varian cuts the apple in half and has his two share it; Pan over to Isaiah who is holding each kid back from killing each other} Quirin: this test is one of empathy… {shows a homeless on the road} Varian: here have some coin….

{Varian gives him money} Isaiah: here sir… {Isaiah gives him a cloth blanket and a bag of apples} {Varian pouts; Zapads face palms; fade to the Cult HQ} Noremoth: Come now sweet Vessel you must eat… Cassandra:.... Noremoth: It’s your favorite…please? You need strength! Cassandra: so I can kill my friends and family? I don’t think so! Noremoth: don’t think of it like that! Think of it like...Liberation for the weak! They’re constantly ignored in Corona!...you would know about that...wouldn’t you? {Cassandra lunges forward and grabs him; her eyes glow} Noremoth: oopsie daisy! Strike a nerve, did I? Cassandra: if you want to keep your tongue I’d shut up… Noremoth: or what, Sweet vessel o’mine? Larkspur: Noremoth… Noremoth: M’LADY! I-I…*kneels* Larkspur: Now now Noremoth you should know better than to antagonize our most important asset. Cassandra: I. am. not. Yours! Larkspur: no? Oh your right!...you belong to Zhan tiri. Cassandra: I DON’T BELONG TO THAT THING EITHER! {Magic surges through Cassandra making her scream and fall to her knees; Noremoth cringes and feels sympathy for her} Larkspur:..Zhan tiri seems to disagree… {Cassandra stares on in shock} Larkspur: Listen Vessel...you are no longer whom you were in the past...your past self died the second you stole the moonstone… {Noremoth looks between his leader and Cassandra} Larkspur:...There is nothing but Zhan tiri now...I suggest you make your peace with it… {Larkspur goes to walk away and noremoth follows leaving Cassandra alone; cut back to old Corona} Varian: OW!... Zapada: Sorry! Why on earth did you think using a cactus was a good idea!? Varian: It seemed like...A good idea at the tim-AHH! Zapada: well now you ARE a cactus! Look at all these spines! Varian: ughh… Zapada: is it not quite silly what you’re doing? Varian: huh? What do you mean? Zapada: this silly competition...what is the point? You’re next in line as the leader anyway. Varian: well it’s...fun… Zapada: competing to the point of injury is fun? *plucks a spine* Varian: OWW!...when you put it like that...ah!..it’s just ya know..Father-son bonding… Zapada: This is father-son bonding? Varian:....yes? Zapada: I will never understand Corona… Varian: OWWW! {Cut to the next challenge} Quirin: This next test is one of courage...you will have to face your worst fear. As a leader many things will frighten you but you cannot let it stop you. Especially when people count on you. Isaiah: *winces* Quirin: Your fears are...different...hard to emulate but we did our best… Varian: Deep breaths..c’mon… Quirin: Varian...you are afraid of blood...but you will see plenty of it as a leader… {Varian nods} Quirin: Over there is a bucket of sheep’s blood… Varian: *gags* Quirin: You will remove your glove and stick a hand in it for 60 seconds… Varian: oh lovely… {Varian walks over to the bucket} Quirin: Whenever you’re ready... {Quirin holds up a pocket watch} Isaiah: Too chicken, dad? {Varian growls and shoves his ungloved hand into the bucket} Varian: Uagh!... Quirin: hmm… {Varian is cringing but doesn’t move} Zapada: oh, iubirea mea… Quirin: Alright! Thats a minute {Varian jumps from the bucket and over to a trough of water to wash is hand; all the while gaging} Quirin: Isaiah you’re next… Isaiah: what is mine? Alchemy? A small firecracker? Quirin: Rain… {Isaiah’s eyes dilate in horror} Isaiah: w-what? Quirin: as a leader, you must face all kinds of fear...even past traumas...we’re able to imitate rain by using a rainstick and pouring water into a bucket with holes at the bottom… Isaiah: *wince* Quirin: You will stand with eyes closed under the bucket for a whole minute...like your father… {Isaiah pales and his breathing quickens} Varian: Isaiah..it’s okay you don’t have to- Isaiah: no!..I’ll do it…. {Quirin nods and takes out the pocket watch; Isaiah goes and stands under the bucket; with a deep breath he closes his eyes} Isaiah: I’m ready… {Quirin nods at the two men that were standing by; one man turns over the rainstick making it sound like falling rain; the other pours water in the bucket have small droplets fall out the bottom and onto Isaiah} Isaiah: *whimpers* {Varian bites his lip; Zapada looks on in confused shock; Isaiah opens his eyes and is suddenly on dead mans curve watching his mother and the duke be killed by bandits in the rain} Estelle: Isaiah! Help me! {Cut to reality} Isaiah: *screams and lunges away from the water and onto the ground whimpering loudly* Quirin:....30 seconds…. {Varian runs to his side} Varian: Isaiah? {Isaiah yelps and jerks away from him; Isaiah looks around with panic before running away} Zapada:...What..just happened? Quirin:...Isaiah failed the test of courage…and...I think we did too much... Varian: Isaiah…. {Cuts to sunset and Isaiah is sitting under a tree with Draki in hand} Isaiah: I tried my best...right Draki?...maybe I’m just not a leader… Varian: Isaiah? {Isaiah looks over and immediately looks away; Varian walks over and sits by him} Varian: Buddy?...I’m sorry that happened...you wanna talk about it? Isaiah:.... Varian: Isaiah...I know what you thinking of… {Isaiah looks up at him} Varian: sometimes I think of it too...how scared she must’ve been...I made a promise to protect your mother and I failed her...so maybe I deserve to fail this too… Isaiah: I just wanted to show you that…I’m not a screwup… Varian: What? Isaiah: I keep messing things up...I wanted to prove people wrong and I got a scar! I wanted to impress the princess and instead almost got Akina killed!... I lied to you so I could get revenge… Varian: oh, buddy… Isaiah: I just thought maybe if I could pass these tests I could..I don’t know..show you I’m not a screwup... Varian: ...show me? Or show yourself? {Isaiah buries his head in his knees} Varian: Isaiah you wanna talk about being a screwup? The first time I met the queen I blew up my village with boilers I had underground… {Isaiah looks up shocked} Isaiah: okay..pfft...thats pretty bad… Varian: My point is...People mess up..it’s part of being human...whats important is to learn from your mistakes...and Isaiah...don’t try to make other people proud of you...Be proud of yourself...there is only one of you...and you are amazing… {Isaiah hugs him} Isaiah: I love you dad… Varian: I love you too… {END CREDITS}

[monstersandmaw]

Here's July's story.  Back to a defined gender for this one, so I hope that's alright. The poll for the episodic story is now closed I think, but the naga came in second (when I last looked!) and a traditional fantasy setting was the runner up, so I present you with 6232 words of badass female pirate reader and one gentlemanly naga boy for your delectation :). No real content warnings for this one, I don't think.

Enjoy! And don't forget that the Discord is always open for all Patreon supporters, so come on over and say hello if that's something you fancy doing too!

Preview:

“Cheer up, sweetheart,” the lizardfolk sailing master grinned, slapping you on the back hard enough to make you stagger. “Only another few days til we make port.”

“I’m not glum because we’ve been at sea for weeks, Jaran,” you said, easing the tension out of your neck with a side to side motion and leaning on the gunwale of the small, agile schooner. “I don’t mind that.”

“Then what’s bothering you?” he asked, shifting to lean his back against the side of the ship beside you and crossing his arms.

With his lime green colouring and startlingly yellow eyes, Jaran cut an impressive figure. You’d always found yourself leaning towards non-humans when it came to attraction, and the reptilian folk fared better than most in your estimation. Jaran had more than caught your eye, but he had a sweetheart back at port that he was unwaveringly loyal to, so you made no efforts to flirt with him. That didn’t mean you couldn’t admire him, discreetly, of course. The canny bastard probably new it, but he never mentioned it.

You sighed and looked up at him with a wry and sidelong look. “You’ve got someone waiting for you, and half the crew will probably head off and spend the evening with their favourite ‘companions’ ashore… but…” you shrugged. “I don’t have anyone, and I don’t want to pay for a night of intimacy, you know? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, but it’s just not me.”

Jaran reached over and patted you fondly on the shoulder. “I know,” he said. “I worry about you, you know? You’re always on your own…”

A sad smile tugged at your lips and you looked down at the scrubbed timbers beneath your boots. Your hands were rough and coarse from years at sea, and you were hardly the most traditionally ‘feminine’ creature, with strong shoulders, lean muscles, leathery skin, and wiry hair that had to be constantly constrained or it sprang out everywhere in a wild halo around your face. As one of only two humans, both female, on the ship, you couldn’t help but feel the sharp sting of inadequacy whenever you disembarked and Anna got catcalled and you got ignored or sometimes even jeered at. None of the others stood for that, which was a comfort, but it still happened.

You shrugged and pushed yourself back off the gunwale and turned to stare the length of the deck. Fingal, a sea eagle aarakocra, chose that moment to soar down from the crow’s nest - which you’d all affectionately renamed ‘the eyrie’ since he spent so much time up there - and landed not far from the pair of you.

“Alright?” he asked, cocking his head to one side and staring at you both with unusual, ice blue eyes. “Oh, and land ho, by the way…” he added with a joyous ruffle of his feathers.

“What? Already? Where?!” you gasped, whipping round and squinting at the horizon where you saw nothing but the endless, pale blue sea and the haze of the horizon. After the storms of the previous week, this fair wind and gentle sailing was a boon.

He chuckled hoarsely and shuffled, dancing slightly from one taloned foot to the other. Extending his wing and pointing with flexed flight feathers, he said, “One point off the port bow, but you probably won’t be able to see it for at least another hour,” he said. “I’m off to inform our lovely captain.”

That evening, just before the change of the watch, the captain summoned you all on deck, a letter grasped in her hand. Half triton and half gargoyle, your captain had acquired the nickname ‘Sea Devil’, and she took it to heart. Six feet tall, with green-grey skin, a tail like a bullwhip, and leathery, bat-like wings, she surveyed her crew with a wry smile on her inhuman face. “Listen up, listen up!” she yelled, striding back and forth on lean, avian legs which ended in long, onyx claws. Her fanned, triton’s ears, almost like fins, twitched, and her mane of thick, pale hair swung freely in the breeze between her slender, backwards-curving horns. “I’ve got good news for you!”

“Land ho, Cap’n?” one of the crew yelled.

“No, you upstart little fucker,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t gather you all here like a flock of clucking chickens just to tell you that! No, we’ve got a very special invitation!” she said, waving the rolled up paper in her clawed hand and adding a playfully patronising emphasis on the word ‘special’.

A hush descended on everyone and you all leaned in a little closer to hear her above the constant creak of sails and stays and deck timbers. She was always fair and kind to her crew, but this was something new.

“Now that I’ve got everyone’s attention,” she said, hopping easily up onto a tall barrel with a little help from a flap of her wings. “The Governor of our dear little haven,” she said, “Is holding a ball in honour of some landlubbers’ midsummer festival or whatnot, and since the gods have chosen to smile upon me and my crew, and since we have dutifully paid our dues to the Governor to keep those pesky naval warships off our tails, he has seen fit to invite every last bilge-rat on this ship to his fancy dance! Oh, and you lot get to come too,” she added with a wink, and a cheer went up.

Captain Solveij let you all have your moment of excited chatter before giving an ear-bleedingly shrill whistle and calling your attention back to her.

“You’re gonna need to dress nice,” she growled. “Not expensive, but at least nice, and we’ve made enough with our last few captures that we can all afford that. If you don’t have something nice to cover your filthy hides, I’ll send you to a tailor once we make port.”

Jaran dug you in the ribs. “You got anything?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do I look like I’ve got anything other than these tatty old trousers and a few shirts?”

His lizardy smile stretched wide and he grinned. “Better go ask the captain for that tailor’s address then…” he said.

The tailor that Solveij sent you to was in a back street of Black Sands Bay, a rambling old town that had long been a notorious stopping point for pirates from the world over, but which was untouchable by any royal navy because it was privately owned by the Governor. A huge, black-coated minotaur with one horn supposedly made of solid gold, and a reputation for ruthlessness, Governor Aatlak ruled his corner of the seas as the world’s wealthiest prisoner; if he were to sail off the islands, those same naval warships that circled his archipelago of islands like vultures would descend on him. So he had established himself as a broker of goods, money, and information, and settled down.

Black Sands Bay, so named for the unique colour of the beach from which the town had grown up into the hillside, was his capital. All around you, the port bustled and thrummed with life. Before you had even left the dock where your schooner had berthed in the deep waters of the harbour, you glanced down into the water and glimpsed perhaps the strangest looking merfolk that you had ever seen. Jellyfish-clear skin fringed a tail, top and bottom, that was twelve feet long, with opalescent scales gleaming in the clear water. Their face was humanoid in shape, but they had enormous, milky, bulging eyes and a bobbing lure that hovered in front of a mouth full of spiked teeth. Floating beside them was a small raft with extraordinary looking shells and objects which could only have come from the deep.

You didn’t linger long, but you enjoyed some of the sights and sounds of the marketplace before turning to bid Jaran and the others farewell, and heading up into the heart of the old city with a definite weight in your chest. The captain wouldn’t care if you wore trousers or a dress to the dance, but honestly, dressing up like this made you feel as out of place as a mermaid on land. You wished it didn’t. You wished that you could feel something different; comfortable. Still, you were attending in the formal capacity as a member of Captain Solveij’s crew, and she was expecting you to be there.

The tailor’s shop, when you eventually found it after nearly an hour of wandering in the hot, tropical sun, had an attractive, dark, bay window at the front, showcasing outfits and accessories for a number of species, and as you pushed the glass-panelled door open, a brass bell trilled above you.

“Jusssst a moment!” a warm, tenor voice called from the rear of the shop. “I’ll be with you in jussst a moment!”

“No worries…” It wasn’t exactly as if you were keen to get started. Besides, you were more than a little sweaty. Perfect.

You had just put your hands on the inviting arms of a nicely upholstered chair and had been about to sink gratefully down into it, when a figure popped up in the doorway at the back of the room and made you jump. Leaping back up onto your salt-crusted boots, you watched, intrigued, as a naga slithered out to greet you.

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