#enjoy!!!!!! welcome to space pirate hell

[reegis]

Hi im new to the mechanisms. Do you have any suggestions on what i should listen to first.

I don’t know that there is necessarily a 100% correct order to go in (and if anyone has a better suggestion lmk!) but this is the way i would probably recommend?

(it ended up kinda long so,,)

Definitely start with the main 4 stories, I like to listen to them just in the order they were released (just personal preference, the stories aren’t interrelated so you can just pick whichever interests you most and go from there if you like!) so Once Upon a Time (In Space) > Ulysses Dies at Dawn > High Noon Over Camelot > The Bifrost Incident

Then do volumes 1 & 2 of Tales to Be Told, only because they have a lot of songs relating to the main 4 albums and I think they make more sense if you listen to them after. also they have some backstory for some of the mechs!!! Gunpowder Tim vs The Moon Kaiser is my all time fav

(this is 100% optional but. if you enjoy reading, i would highlyyy recommend checking out the fiction they have posted on the mechs website!! Its more backstory for the mechanisms and a ton more world building and extra storys its a super good read if you like that sort of thing! They also have the stories sorted by which album they relate to, so you could read them after each related album if you wanted)

and Then you listen to Death to The Mechanisms, for maximum emotional damage now that you’re invested :,^)

[legitalicat]

Out of Time

Chapter 3 - "Dinner and Dessert"

AN: Chapter 3 my loves! I hope you enjoy this one :) Also I'm sorry if this is bad I've only ever written smut like 2x before this. If you're looking for better smut, I always always always recommend @lovelykhaleesiii

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

If anyone is interested in me starting a tag list, please feel free to let me know!!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: As the day comes to a close, she can only think of what has happened. With having less than a full day to understand the situation, her thoughts are all consuming. Her beloved twin, Jacaerys, shows he has only ever cared for her.

18+ every one

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!! P in V, Targcest (is it Targcest if their last names are Velaryon?), profanity, dirty talk, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex guys), Jace has a monster in his pants, Jace being kinda dom

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin!Reader, mentions of Aemond Targaryen x Reader, mentions of Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Word count: 3.6 k

Aemond had accompanied me to the Dragon Pit, as was my original intention. And it was time well spent in all honesty. He spoke to me about the time that I was gone. Just as Mother said, he had gone around the entire realm to attempt to find me. Apparently, he had spent a long time in Harrenhal, the seat of my blood father’s family.

What I hadn’t expected, though, was him telling me of this woman he had met there named Alys Rivers. According to him he had grown fond of her and even attempted to be with her. He claimed it was to try to get over me, as all logic pointed to me being dead. I stopped listening.

When I was back in my chambers, with nothing to do but think as I waited for dinner, I could only sit in the window seat overlooking Blackwater Bay. My finding didn’t make sense to me.

If I were taken by pirates like seemed to be a popular theory, why was I not in Essos? I would probably fetch a fair price if they sold me into slavery. Or why had they not demanded ransom? As a princess of the realm, my identity was not a secret, even if I didn’t have the signature Targaryen hair. I had done as much as possible to help the citizens of King’s Landing. I had done a tour of the Seven Kingdoms to meet with several Lords and their sons to consider for marriage. There was not a time in which I was ever hidden away.

“Your brain is going to break if you continue to think so hard,” Jace said from beside me. My gaze snapped to him, trying to steady my heart from the shock. “It is just me, issa dāria.”

“Must you sneak in here like that?” I scolded him yet I was certain the only thing stern about me was my tone. I was too happy to see him to control the smile that crept onto my face.

He was carrying a tray with two plates piled high with food and two cups. He set it on a nearby table before coming back to stand by my side.

“I wanted to have time with you. We have not seen each other since the afternoon,” he explained to me.

He gave me a soft smile. Everything about him was soft. His hair laid in loose curls that bounced with every motion. His lips were plump, eyes round and a deep brown, and even his sharp jawline was offset by full cheeks. Hell, even down to what he wore was soft. A loose fitting, long sleeved white linen shirt with strings crossing over the space between his collarbones tucked into the waistband of his brown cotton pants. Unlike most, he didn’t often wear shoes around the castle unless he had to go before the council or maybe a formal dinner.

No matter how much I loved Aemond, Jace was a part of me. I loved him in nearly every way a person could. He and I were two pieces of the same soul. We could spend all day together and never need a break. He listened to me rant about every subject I ever read about, learned High Valyrian for me. He was good and kind and sweet.

“And the food?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought perhaps dinner with all of us at once may prove to be too much tonight, so you and I could eat in here. I’ve already spoken to Mother and told her,” he said.

I chuckled and stood from my seat. Without any hesitation, he took my hand in one of his hands and pulled me closer by my waist with the other. Standing here, chest to chest with him, the world felt quiet.

“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. He was sure not to hold me too tightly.

“Physically I hurt,” I whispered. It was best if I were honest with him. “Otherwise, I’m just confused. None of it makes sense. And to think of missing five years with you causes an unbearable ache in my chest.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead. It was how he comforted me when he had no idea what to say. Always handling me with great care like it was his life’s mission. There was no amount of affection too small to him.

He said nothing else before helping me into a chair at the table. The silence felt nice if I were honest. With him, I didn’t feel like I had missed anything.

“Luke is happy you’re back,” he told me after he had sat down. “So is Joffrey. They missed you greatly.”

“I cannot wait to see them. As well as Little Aegon and Viserys. They all have grown so much,” I responded, tears welling up in my eyes.

My plate had a venison roast with potatoes and carrots. A simple meal but one of my favorites. Dragonstone had the largest deer I had seen which was an impressive feat considering how many dragons roamed free on the island. But with such an abundance of the meat, we had it frequently when we lived there.

“I love you,” he said. He spoke it in such a way nobody could question his sincerity. He had always been honest to a fault.

“I love you,” I said before taking a bite of food. It was perfect and heavenly.

“So then why did you go to Aemond? Why spend the afternoon without me?” His voice was pained and his lip quivered a little.

Did he not know that it was not that way? It wasn’t like I chose Aemond over Jacaerys. He had merely been the one to come to my room.

“My moon, I had been on my way to see Vhaela and he approached me. I did not go seek him out,” I nearly pleaded with him. I reached across the table to take his hand in mine and squeeze it.

“I am not oblivious to the fact you were with him in the year you spent here with grandsire. But you and I are meant to be husband and wife. Formally so, now,” he whispered. His eyes moved to look at his plate.

My heart ached at the thought of hurting him. He was everything to me. My best friend, the moon and stars in my night sky, my fire on a cold night. When I spoke of him being my other half, it was not an exaggeration. Without him there was no me.

Even so, I could not pretend that everything was fine and as it was before I woke on the beach. While I had been stuck in place, everyone around me continued to grow and thrive and change. Pretending they hadn’t was like ignoring the rain as it washes away the earth. I would be fine as long as it was raining and I could use the water to maneuver. But once the flood subsided, I would be stranded without knowing where I was.

“But should we be? It has been five years, Jacaerys. Hell, I wasn’t even with you for a year before I disappeared. What if the person you are now does not love the person I am?”

“I could give you everything you could ever wish for when I am King. I will give you every child your heart could desire, I will love you until my final breath. Why is that not enough?” he asked before looking back up at me. The way he said it made me question if he was more hurt or angry. “Or is this back to the ridiculous notion that since Aegon the Conqueror had two wives you could have two husbands?”

“I wish to know where my heart truly lies. I wish to know if I marry you it is purely for love and not anything to do with duty. Why can you not give me that?”

He was silent for a moment longer than I would have liked. Was it truly an unreasonable request? All I ever wanted was a life of love. I knew Jace would love me for as long as we lived, and I would love him. But if it weren’t an equal love, if it were a love that was weighed down by a sense of duty, where was the honor in that? How could I subject both of us to that?

“So you wish to replace me?” he asked me. He yanked his hand away from me as he pushed up from the table. “I can only assume with Aemond.”

“I am not replacing you!” I said firmly. “You are my twin, my other half, there is no replacing you.”

I quickly stood up too, trying to be on his level, to prove I was on his side. But it was too quickly and I cried out in pain. The Maesters figured it had only been a month at most since they were cracked. As such, they warned me of the potential for severe pain, making it difficult to move or breathe without risking it. At first I thought they were full of shit, but with my ribs feeling like they’re on fire and my breathing causing agonizing pain, I realized I had just been stubborn.

No matter his anger, he rushed to close the distance between us and hold me steady. Even when he was angry or hurt, it was never enough to take over his compassion. Jace truly was too good for this world.

I couldn’t help but nuzzle him as he held me. Never was it my intention to hurt him. I just didn’t want to rob something from him that he above all people deserved. A happy, love filled life.

“How could you do this to me?” he whispered while holding me close. “I have lived without you for over six years. I alone waited for you.”

“It is not something I’ve done to you, Jace,” I insisted. “I do not wish to exclude you. I just want to explore my heart.”

He sighed softly and set me back down in my chair. Kneeling in front of me, he pushed my hair back from my face. I loved him so much. I could only hope he still understood that.

“I have dreamt of you every night since you left my side,” he whispered. “Even so, I cannot make you unhappy. If you are sure, then I will not object. But do not make me stay away from you.”

It was never easy to stay away from him. The first time I ever tried to was when I became aware of how desperately I wanted to cross the lines of what was proper. Being around him had been overwhelming, so I elected to just stay away. But eventually he became frustrated with me and came to my room in the middle of the night to demand answers. That was the night he took my maidenhead. To this day I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Then you cannot ask me to stay away from him. I want this to be true and fair, issa dārys,” I whispered to him.

He said nothing, instead moving forward and pushing his lips to mine. His movements were cautious as to avoid causing me more pain in my busted lip, but I could feel a hunger behind it. All thoughts but him left me.

Jace pulled away far too soon, standing from his position in front of me. Within a moment he had me in his arms, holding me off the floor. I couldn’t help but giggle wildly at this. The sound made him smile and then he carried me to my bed.

In truth, for the longest time this was our bed. No matter how often our parents tried, we always found our way back into the same bed. It is why the room is decorated equally in our favorite colors. Once we had painted the wall behind the bed to look like a sunset, mixing stunning oranges and purples that felt like home. Warm and wonderful just like Jace.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear as he began desperately pulling at the laces along my back that held my dress to me.

“I love you,” I whispered, pulling at his shirt. He pulled back just enough to allow me to pull it over his head and toss it aside before he put his lips to my neck.

My dress fell from my shoulders and chest, leaving my breasts exposed to him. The way Jace stared with nothing short of an animalistic hunger made me whimper in pleasure. Within a matter of moments he was massaging the left one and attaching his lips to the right. He sucked little red marks into the flesh, so insignificant that they would disappear by the morning, but leaving a stinging sensation wherever he touched that reminded me this was real.

When he took my hardened nipple in between his lips, grazing it with his teeth, I gasped in pleasure. It had been far too long since I had felt his touch. He made sure I was aware of it, too. He sucked eagerly, never once stopping the massaging movements he made with his hand. Moans of his name fell from my lips as though he were the god I worshipped.

He pulled away from me with a loud pop. “Always been so perfect for me,” he whispered to me. “Made for me, weren’t you, issa dāria?”

I was rendered speechless as Jace pulled my dress from me completely, followed quickly by his pants. In his naked form he was everything a girl could ask for. His muscles were firm and well defined, biceps large enough so that I could not wrap a hand around them. Any baby fat on his stomach had melted into six individually defined muscles. Somehow there was no hair along his chest, but a small line of hair connected his navel to the curly brown hair at the base of his cock.

Every time I saw his cock, my jaw dropped slightly. He was easily ten inches in length and thick enough so that I could barely touch my thumb and middle finger together when holding it. It was monstrous in size but he was so loving and sweet it never caused excessive pain. His cock was hard, red at the tip with pre-cum beading on it. I glanced up to his face to find him blushing as I looked him over.

“Still so shy after all the nights we spent together?” I asked him quietly.

“You must remember that while it has not been so long for you, it has been damn near seven years for me. So shut up,” he said, blushing even more at my teasing. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“No passage of time could ever change the love I have for you, or how perfect I find you,” I whispered before taking one of his hands in mine.

He moved to hover over me, a knee on either side of my own, his cock resting against my thighs. His eyes were easy to follow as he dragged his gaze along my body, starting at my face and working his way down. Every cut or scar, no matter how small, earned a kiss against the skin. Taking extra care with the bruise on my ribs, he pressed small kisses along the edges of it where it did not cause any pain. The pure intimacy of it was enough to cause a heat to build as my pussy became increasingly wet.

Just as he was about to continue leaving kisses down the rest of my body, I reached down to grab his chin. The touch was enough to get him to connect his gaze with me.

“Love me, Jace,” I whispered, pleading with him. I couldn’t take the sweet torture that was his foreplay.

“You are not ready for me yet, love,” he said.

“I am plenty wet for you. The rest I do not care about,” I told him.

“I do not wish to cause you more pain,” he insisted, but I leaned up and kissed him, my eyes fluttering shut.

This time it was I who kissed him hungrily. Being like this with him, I felt like I had been starving and all that I wanted was right in front of me. My sweet twin, one who had always put me above anyone else. Even now when I can feel how needy he is as his cock leaked pre-cum onto my thigh, he needed to put me above him.

Carefully I slid down some, so that his cock was now resting on my hip. Reaching between us I grabbed it, giving a few lazy strokes. He groaned against my lips when I aligned the tip to my waiting cunt.

He pulled back just enough to separate our lips. My eyes opened quickly so that I could look at him. His eyes were soft, waiting for me to tell him to go.

I nodded ever so slightly. That was all he needed to push forward into me. Already he was moaning my name as he sunk inch after inch into me. It ached quite a lot after not having him inside me for so long. But still, I couldn’t ask him to stop. The ache was pleasurable and needed.

He got nearly three quarters of his cock inside me before he stilled. He was breathing heavily, obviously struggling with restraint but giving me time to adjust. I pressed kisses over every part of his face before laying back so that I could admire him. Jacaerys was a god among men, that I was certain of.

“I’m okay, love,” I whispered to him. One look in my eyes was all he needed to be sure.

He hooked my right leg behind my knee and pulled it to lay against his chest. A cry of both pleasure and pain came out of my lips at the way this caused him to reach further in me than he ever had. There was a small smirk on his face. The cheeky fucker knew exactly what he did.

Setting a near torturous pace, he pulled out of me slowly and pushed back in. The pain I felt was indistinguishable from pleasure. Every twitch and every throb of his cock, I could feel entirely. Then Jace pressed his thumb to my clit, rubbing in tandem with each movement of his hips. When his cock was buried inside me, he rubbed against it eagerly, like he was trying to make me cum right then and there. And then every time my body started tightening up and I began to see stars, he pulled out to just his tip and all but stopped touching my clit.

I glared at him the sixth time he did it while feeling my approaching orgasm back off. It made him chuckle as he bent down, pressing my knee to my shoulder, with only the tip of his cock nestled inside me.

“You feel so good, you know that, love?” he whispered to me. “Feels like your cunt was designed with my cock in mind. Bet I would fit perfectly if I went all the way to my balls, don’t you?” With widened eyes I nodded eagerly. “Have I fucked you stupid already, pretty girl?”

This was a side to him I hadn’t seen before. Normally he was whispering praises to me, thanking the gods for me, and I gave him the same. But it was not unwelcome. In fact, I could feel myself clench around him as a whine built up in my throat.

“That’s okay, baby, don’t need you to say anything. Can feel how much you love this,” he whispered before driving his hips forward.

I wrapped my left leg around his waist so that I could pull him closer into me. Each powerful thrust had me moaning out his name. The sounds of my moans and his heavy balls slapping against my ass was all that could be heard echoing around the room. A wave started building inside me, the intensity of it increasing while he stroked my clit again. This time he never let up.

“Cum around my cock, pretty girl,” he said to me. “Fuck, Y/N, so fucking tight. So perfect for me.” His breathing became more labored as he punctuated each word with a moan.

“Gods, Jace!” I cried out when the orgasmic wave crashed over me. He looked to where his cock sank into me. The evidence of my orgasm soaked his stomach, sliding down his skin and dripping onto the bed.

Jace’s thrusts became erratic as my cunt squeezed around him. Within seconds, he was crying out my name and his hips stuttered to a stop. I could feel every inch of his cock throb and twitch as his cum poured into me.

He was very careful as he pulled out. Both of us whined at the loss of contact, but his turned quickly into a moan when he saw a string of my juices mixed with his between his cock and my body. With a goofy little smile he laid beside me and pulled the blanket up over the both of us.

“You have had my heart for our entire lives,” he whispered to me. “I am not giving yours up without a fight.”

With one last kiss to my forehead, he held me close to him before we both went to sleep.

[littlelightbolt]

Finding Prowl- Merformers AU

Chapter 3 - A captive individual

So here's the last of the chapters I have ready written, I kinda write in a bullet point style cause I don't think my brain is at the capacity at the moment to come back and make them actual well written chapters. Enjoy tho. - Ideas still welcome. I'm kinda stuck on what other problems the character will be facing with life in the aquarium.

Life down in this hell hole has been a constant blood pressure raising experience for Prowl.

Not counting his transportation after being caught, he has calculated that it has been 32 cycles since his kidnapping from the Autobot pod after a bloody dispute with Optimus. Not even Jazz had tried to stop him when he stormed off.

The capture had been unpredictable. Never in his mind would it have occured to him that pirates had breached the secret coves wall.

His pod could be in danger and he couldn't even there to warn them. Even if the probabilities were low, he could only hope that no one else had been captured. The cove was a protected space. It would be detrimental to their way of life if humans were to discover them.

He fought every step of the transport process. Stuck alone in a tiny space with a foreign language echoing through as his music. Bruised and battered he arrived to a rather large facility. Bright colours were everywhere it was dizzying. After being poked and prodded, he was placed in an isolation pool. The empty walls smelt of distress and dead fish. He simmered deeply ashamed to have been outsmarted by a bunch of land dwellers. He graced his tank by thrashing aggressively sending big waves that splashed the humans who shrieked in displeasure recoiling from the edge of his pool. Despite the brief victory, he was soon swarmed by the lot of them.

Over the next few days, he learned quickly that attacking the staff was a futile effort. Where one fell another took their place. He always got drugged and worked with an awful headache there after. Now, he has reserved to take a smarter approach, observing all he could in hopes of plotting an escape someday.

Eventually the humans deemed him healthy enough to be transferred to a bigger pool. To his surprise, this one had furnishings of actual kelp and rocks. One of the walls had an ominous grate that connected to parts unknown. Prowl steered clear of that for now. There was a small alcove at the bottom to hide in, barely big enough to stretch out fully in. A small school of fish were in here with him while star fish rested on the glass wall looking outwards.

His first glimpse in what would be his new home was less that flattering. Beyond his tank there were many others just like his with pairs of mers or solo ones as he was. They too seemed to notice the new comers presence and we're checking him out too.

Prowl's skin curled at the thought of having little to no privacy.

Below to tank groups of humans were looking up at him. Most of them wore bright colours and expensive suits. The walkways reminded Prowl of the big loud yachts he would see from time to time back home. It disgusted him to be downgraded to an item to be observed.

Everyday it's just the same four walls and the humans outside. His neighbours loud and the humans louder still. He did his best to get through each day though and memorise the routines of the humans that took care of him.

Sometimes mers from the tanks around him were cartes off and returned again, sometimes they just never did. It was always the prettier mers, the ones who showed interest in the humans down below. Prowl deducts that being carted off is very bad and strives to be as antisocial as he can with the humans. He fears for the day his turn comes.

So far, escape is still far away. It was only in the night cycles where most mers were asleep that he could have a quiet reprieve from the over-stimulating environment, where the constant vigilance tore down on him.

It is there that the waves of loneliness would wash over him completely, pulling him under some nights. He would never admit that he laments that no one will come to save him. To get away from it all, what used to be a private pass time now became a self soothing hobby. He sang. Tuneless little melodies to songs he remembered from mainly Jazz.

His songs on those nights were considered some of the most hauntingly beautiful in the aquarium to the skeleton crew humans who worked the night shift. Only amplified when the humpback mer several tanks down that sang to and with him occasionally. They formed a sort of musical comradery.

It was the 55 day cycle here at the facility. The day cycle was stagnant and Prowl was well and truly bored. He swam a few laps around the tank and cleaned up his little burrow but aside from that there was nothing to do. Prowl cursed the humans cleverness, exploiting the mers need for being busy to entertain the crowds outside.

Prowl firmly pushed down the urge to look back at the glass knowing that doing so won't do him any favours. And so he laps, chasing the fish and rearranging the star fish.

The sounds coming from the glass were getting louder today. Way louder than usual. Curiosity getting the better of him, Prowl glanced towards the screen. A large crowd has gathered at his viewing window. Apprehension takes him, he never had so many humans stay in front of his enclosure.

A tiny hint of fear sinks in. Is he being carted off. A human dress in a workers uniform was in front of the crowd talking into a microphone echoing the words into the water "-and today we will be introducing this sweet little baby to what will hopefully be their loving surrogate parent!" Prowl had picked up a few words during his captivity but most of the sentence was beyond him.

The announcer finished with a flourish and the crowd clapped and cheered. The sound of something breaching the surface caught Prowl's awareness. A large box was being lowered into the tank. Prowl fear turned to dread when he saw the little body within it. The faint smell of distress and sick was coming off of them.

Knowing the humans, he kept a fair distance away from the box until it was fully lowered to the bottom of the tank. When the ropes had fully detached he made he way towards the box. At least the sick bastards didn't lock the little one in there. They could have drowned if they did.

Prowl was honestly a bit out of his depth in talking to young kids. The autobot pod didn't have any, the youngest was probably hot rod and they had found him when he was already a teen. Figuring the best way to gather their atte tion was to talk Prowl gently called out to the little form that laid there. The poor thing curled tight in fear slowly unfurled seemingly seeming him approable.

Prowl reached out to touch him, but being unsure of how to start allowed the baby to initiate first contact. Now up close, Prowl was thankful that no visible bruises were seen on the baby. But, it did to his eyes look slightly tired and flushed. Must have been the panic of being moved here taking its toll. They looked old enough to start talking but the little one was silent.

When the baby grasped his finger, Prowl was glad the terror twins weren't there to see him freeze. The world grew smaller until it was just the too of them, a wave of warm emotions unfurled in Prow 's cold heart. If only for a nano click. Another small hand was roaming his chest, pawing at his skin funnily enough it was slightly tickling the adult amusing him.

Wanting to assess the baby further, Prowl brought the little hands to his face scenting them, the baby was slightly malnourished and smelt of burnt sour milk due to the fever raging. They were sicker than he thought and it worried him.

It was then the crowd outside returned him to reality. The loud shouts and cheering shatter their small moment. The baby frightened once again.

Prowl made quick work of the latches. Opening the box and reaching inside for the baby. They were leaving, he was fed up of the unwelcome eyes on them. The baby latched on and curled around his chest rather snuggly, he could feel that they were burning up.

With a few powerful whips of his tail, he breached the surface of the tank allow the little one to breathe. Before diving back down into his little cove to his. It barely fit the too of them.

Kelp was a common herb in the sea incorporated into almost any dish the autobot pod cooked or made. Prowl remembered ratchet giving a lecture to the twin about eating their veggies. That it was also a great staple in medicine for simple illness like fevers. Thinking fast, Prowl slipped out of the cover and grabbed some kelp to use it as medicine for the little one. The humans watched him in fascination but he hardly cared for them. Arriving back to the shivering baby, he chewed up some kelp in his mouth making sure it was turned to paste before spitting it out and feeding it to the little one.

He fed them 3 mouthfuls of kelp before the little one showed signs of being full and drowsy.

The baby nuzzled into his form looking up at him once bleary before laying down to sleep.

Not wanting to awake the little one, Prowl got comfortable for the long unmoving wait of nap time. While the baby slept, Prowl's mind whirled. Well, he definitely wasn't bored now.

'where were their mother, pod? what happened to them, how long had the baby been alone for can they actually speak' many other questions swarmed his mind.

Most of all, his escape plan now had an additional variable. If he were to escape he would be bringing the baby with him. He could only pray to a god he didn't quite believe in: primus to be so merciful to them.

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[ant1quarian]

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This is a silly creative space made by me so that all who interact with us can enjoy themselves!

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[margindoodles2407]

Margin's Zelda Playlists

I am reposting this because I've added like. 50 new songs and deleted at least 10. Call this the ship of theseus i guess

Anyway, these are each their own separate playlist but I have them all on one playlist to save room. :) Enjoy! And if you have any songs that remind YOU of a specific game let me know- I'd love to listen to them, especially if they're related to one of the games with only a few songs on the playlist! All of these songs can be found on Youtube; not sure if you can find them all on Spotify or Apple Music though :(

The Legend of Zelda (the series; also my Pre-Skord Playlist)

Gate of Time/Zelda's Lullaby by HyruleOrchestra

Ballad of the Lonely by trashyinferno

Rule #15: Four Aces by Fish in a Birdcage [EXPLICIT]

This Tragedy of Mine by Knight of Endale

They're Only Human from Death Note: the Musical

Nothing Changes from Hadestown: the Musical

I Lived by OneRepublic

The Call by Regina Spektor

No One Lives Forever by Oingo Boingo

Skyward Sword

Washing Machine Heart by Mitski

When You're Evil by Voltaire (it's a ghirahim mood)

Bruno is Orange by Hop Along

Curses by The Crane Wives

Anchorage by Marian Call

It's Alright by Mother Mother

Ophelia by The Lumineers

Icarus by Bastille

Something I Need by OneRepublic

Minish Cap

Dandelions covered by Bet

All the Small Things by Blink 182 (don't ask me why)

Flowers in my Hair by Wes Reeves

Four Swords

Open Up Your Eyes covered by Daniel Ingram

The Friend You Need from My Little Pony: the Movie (please ignore that these are both from mlp the movie okay. first of all i unironically enjoy mlp and secondly they remind me of shadow)

Ocarina of Time

The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel

Treehouse covered by Eric D

Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons [EXPLICIT]

Small Hands by Keaton Henson

King by Lauren Aquilina

You Don't Get to Know Her Anymore by Pedals on Our Pirate Ships

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths [EXPLICIT]

Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! at the Disco

Providence by Poor Man's Poison

You Turn the Screws by CAKE

Good Night, Demon Slayer by Voltaire

Go the Distance covered by BYU Vocal Point

River from the Sky by The Weepies

Time/Space by Alex G

Keep You Safe by The Crane Wives

Majora's Mask

Turn the Lights Off by Tally Hall

Twin-Sized Mattress by The Front Bottoms [EXPLICIT]

Home by Cavetown

Best Friend by AJJ

Rule #9: Child of the Stars by Fish in a Birdcage

Slow Down by Poor Man's Poison

Listen When You Miss Me by Naethan Apollo

Twilight Princess

Be Nice to Me by The Front Bottoms (the lyrics aren't EXPLICIT but someone does drop an f-bomb in a spoken background track)

Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show

Hell's Coming With Me by Poor Man's Poison

Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier

Sundown and Sorrow by Hank Williams

Hermit the Frog by MARINA [EXPLICIT]

Shadows and Regrets by Yellowcard

When the Wolf Meets the Moon by Confused Crow

Drinking Song by Haley Heyndrickx

Wind Waker

Rule #23: Birds of a Feather by Fish in a Birdcage

Joli Rouge by The Dreadnoughts

Kokomo by the Beach Boys

"That's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen" from Pirates of the Caribbean (yes. the meme. not "He's a Pirate" the song, i specifically mean the meme.)

Rule #28: Sand by Fish in a Birdcage

Stand By You by Rachel Platten

If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin

Abandon Ship by Fin Argus

Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil [EXPLICIT]

Captain's Call by Derivakat

Leave Her Johnny by The Longest Johns

Phantom Hourglass

The Flying Dutchman by The Jolly Rogers (i am sorry that the playlist is only 1 song long :'{ )

Spirit Tracks

Stickshifts and Safety Belts by CAKE

Opening Up from Waitress: The Musical [EXPLICIT]

Ghost Grinder by Steam Powered Giraffe

A Link to the Past

Ghosting by Mother Mother

Welcome Home Son by Radical Face (PLEASE give me recommendations i need more songs for my beloved :'{ )

Link's Awakening

Dream Sweet in Sea Major by Miracle Musical

Hidden in the Sand by Tally Hall

Mary by Alex G (there is a clean version please look it up)

Dream a Little Dream of Me by The Mamas and the Papas

Bones in the Ocean by The Longest Johns

Oracle of Ages/Seasons

Shadow Stalker by Mercedes Lackey (again PLEASE i need song recs)

A Link Between Worlds

Mona Lisa by Mxmtoon

Banana Bread by Sarah Maddack

Tri Force Heroes

Fashion by Lady Gaga

Puttin' On the Ritz by Taco

The Hyrule Fantasy

Rule #33: Pyre by Fish in a Birdcage

Fairytale by Alexander Ryback

Parables and Primes by Danny Schmidt

Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

Snow by Ricky Montgomery

Seven by Sleeping at Last

Hyrule Warriors

Villains Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH CIA MOVING ON

I'll Make a Man Out of You from Disney's Mulan

She's Kerosene by The Interrupters

Ain't No Crying by Derivakat

Burned Out by Dodie (@unclemoriarty I blame you for this one :] )

That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil [EXPLICIT]

Inkpot Gods by The Amazing Devil

Battle Cries by The Amazing Devil

The Fall by Half Alive

Choke by I Don't Know How But They Found Me

Blossoms by The Amazing Devil

Breath of the Wild

House of Memories by Panic! at the Disco

Amnesia Was Her Name by Lemon Demon

The Distance by CAKE

The Cost of the Crown by Mercedes Lackey

The Mute by Radical Face

A Moment Forever Ago from Central Park

Waiting on a Miracle from Disney's Encanto

Rule #31: Calamity by Fish in a Birdcage

Frank Sinatra by CAKE

Seventeen by MARINA [EXPLICIT]

The Family Jewels by MARINA

Expert in a Dying Field by The Beths

Everglow covered by Remedy A Capella

Stella by Cereus Bright

She covered by Rob Wilson

The Horror and the Wild

Tears of the Kingdom

Rule #29: Throne Room by Fish in a Birdcage

Rule #15: Waterfall by Fish in a Birdcage

Pompeii MMXXIII by Bastille

@whyoneartheven

[thewardenofwinter]

This or That? Tag

I was tagged by @crowandmoonwriting and @writernopal ! Thank you both so much, you an find their posts here and here. I'm actually working on the other tags I've been sent but some are taking longer than others so I'll hop on this one really quick! I am also behind on the rest of them haha I've been quite busy with life for the past few days so this is a welcomed break!

Historical or Futuristic

I am far too dimwitted to understand the idiosyncrasies of curating a futuristic universe, nor am I smart enough to understand when other's write it. However, I do enjoy 'future-past' type situations, like with the Fall Out games and Attack on Titan to an extent.

I am also an almost certified pirate historian at this point so historical fantasy all the wayyyyyyy.

Opening or Closing chapter

While I do love leaving a bit of a cliffhanger, my chapter endings tend to fizzle out and die than crash and burn. I also LOVE hooking people in the beginning of a chapter with some batshit crazy opening line.

Light and Fluffy or Dark and Gritty

Light and fluffy bores me to death. I need drama, I need blood and gore, I need major character deaths to keep me entertained. I'm sort of like a Roman emperor in the colosseum. Why would I want to see a man pet and befriend a lion when he could be mauled to death by it in front of his wife?

I am, of course, exaggerating. While I do enjoy light and fluffy from time to time when my own life is dark and gritty, having an outlet in my own writing to emulate my current circumstance on a beloved character always cheers me up.

Animal Companion or Found Family

Animal companions are far too Disney-esq for me personally, though I do appreciate a little mascot or beloved animal side character (I write them frequently myself.)

Horror or Romance

Mix those bitches together, throw them in a pot, add some monster in there and I'm sold. I want to the see in's and out's of giving yourself over to someone wholly portrayed as a horrible, gruesome endeavor that is in the end worth it to watch the person you love the most feel joy in your presence.

And for your information, as Guillermo del Toro enjoyer, I am a monster lover not a monster fucker. Also Crimson Peak >>> Shape of Water.

Hard Magic system or Soft Magic System

No magic system at all! Only vibes. But in all seriousness, I do not care for hard magic system in literature but I do prefer them for shows, like Full Metal Alchemist or Avatar the Last Airbender. But for me, who has severe aphantasia, having a hard magic system really puts a damper on my already lacking imagination.

Stand-alone or Series

Depends on my mood, sometimes I enjoy reading a one off book with no further consequences and other times I want to delve deep into a fantasy world with characters I enjoy and grow with them as books continue.

One Project at a Time or Always Juggling 2+

You should see my google docs page...

One Award Winner or One Bestseller

I like money.

Fantasy or Sci-Fi

Fantasy for the same reason as the first question, science is absolutely not my strong suit and it quite literally makes my my brain hurt. Though, human sciences on the other hand intrigue me, but when it comes to space and planets? Hell to the no.

Character or Setting Descriptions

Though I do fancy myself a gothic literature enjoyer, setting descriptions quite literally pass through my mind without taking any of it into account. I can barely handle remembering what characters look like, how the hell am I supposed to know the exact wood cut of the grand staircase that leads into the second foyer?? Again, I have severe aphantasia so if you do not describe your character in heavy detail, I assure you I will not picture anything, for your character. Like a floating [REDACTED] symbol speaking now and then. (Which is the very reason all my characters are described in EXCRUCIATING detail. It's more for me than you.)

I also LOVE writing and reading character descriptions because, while I do not agree in real life that you should judge based on appearances, in literature a character's looks can tell you so much about their personality, culture, and past. Whether it be a strange scar, a specific head covering, or just the way a character smiles, all of those things can show you so much about this character's inner working and I find it so interesting how people weave it into their work.

First Draft or Final Draft

First drafts all the way! You are literally willing something into existence that has never been done before (hopefully) and it never has to be perfect! The most important part is getting your idea down onto a page or computer screen, you need not fret about things like chapter headers or sentence structure quite yet.

Love Triangle in Everything or No Romantic Arcs

Some works just... do not require romance in the slightest (in fact, as a person on the ace spectrum, I would argue that most works do not require romance, but I digress.) That being said, I do like writing romantic arcs in my works but mostly because I enjoy writing character interactions and romantic chemistry offers fun banter.

Constant Sandstorm or Rainstorm

Two of my WIPs take place in Seattle which is also where I want to live so... yeah, rain all the way baby. (Insert Rain When I Die by Alice in Chains)

Gently tagging some amazing folk! @captain-kraken, @ryns-ramblings, @elshells, @lyssa-ink, @rownanisntwriting and @zestymimblo. Sorry if some of you already did it, I'm still working through some old posts that I missed from mutuals.

Here's the blank list that I stole from Nopal:

historical or futuristic

the opening or closing chapter

light+fluffy or dark+gritty

animal companion or found family

horror or romance

hard magic system or soft magic system

standalone or series

one project at a time or always juggling 2+

one award winner or one bestseller

fantasy or sci-fi

character description or setting description

first draft or final draft

love triangle in everything or no romantic arcs

constant sandstorm or rainstorm

— M. Warrin

[giggly-squiggily]

Hi Hello it's midnight for me and I just finished watching Steven Universe and the movie (I haven't watched Future yet- gonna do that this weekend) so now I have thoughts

Spoilers for Steven Universe below the cut!

First of all: I'm kicking myself repeatedly for waiting so long to watch it cause HOLY- 😭🥰 IT WAS SO GOOD!!! I wasn't sure I was gonna be into shows like this (Wasn't massively into Adventure Time- don't get me wrong, it was cute as hell and funny but just kinda..eh?) But I finally gave it a shot and WOW!

My favorite gem is still Garnet; I just- I adore her. She's wise, funny, the whole Sapphire and Ruby ship is so cute ("They were my favorite couple!"- Bismuth my blacksmith queen) and just-GAH! I love how excited she got over fusions and just how lovely she is all around!

My second favorite is Peridot. I loved her- she is the cutest little green dorito EVA! The way she speaks, her mannerisms, her dynamic with Lapis (Who admittedly I still have mixed feelings on but generally I enjoy her alot)- it was all so freaking kfakjerakjkjrakjerkjekjr I can't get over how cute she is HELP!

Really- I found myself loving all the characters! Pearl is cute as heck, Amethyst is an icon (I loved that scene where she refused to put all her problems onto Steven and recognized he had so much on his plate already- it was truly such a growth moment and I'm beyond proud of her. Plus- Smokey Quartz is an icon), and STEVEN! He's a doll! I adore him so much!

As for Beach City- I don't think I have a non-favorite. Everyone is so charming and silly; and even when they were at their worst they managed to bring it back around. Lars becoming a space pirate and Sadie becoming a rockstar- the grandmother becoming mayor and Ronaldo being..well, Ronaldo; it was all so good! I really do love Greg aswell; that Comet song will be forever stuck in my head. Oh! And Connie! I adore Connie!

As for the movie....eh? Don't get me wrong, it was great- and I really like Spinel; but all the endless songs started to get a little much after a while 😅 There was some great ones like Garnet's return song True Love and Steven's Change song- and of course Other Friends and Drift Away are absolutely incredible. It was a good mix of great songs and....kinda meh songs but still incredibly pleasant to listen to. I had a great time. (I also really liked Happily Ever After but I think I prefer Natewantstobattle's version; the rock cover really gives it that extra oomph!)

The DIAMONDS! I kinda don't know how to feel about Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond. I get why she did what she did; it was clear as glass the home life she was living wasn't good to her- but the way she did it certainly wasn't the cleanest. I like how complex her situation is and how Steven navigated it. I also like how the diamonds were presented- not good gems but complex enough that they're enjoyable. (Not to be bisexual on tumblr but Yellow Diamond....👀)

Overall this was a great time all around! I don't know what I'm gonna watch next (post future), my sister and I are thinking either Owl House or Amphibia, but y'all are welcome to leave suggestions! This was a much needed comfort experience during an admittedly crappy time.

(Also I'm almost done with Season 2 of Vinland Saga and y'all it's absolutely incredible but so freaking SAD- ooooo, I got feelings but I'll share them all when I finish the last four episodes)

This is your gentle reminder to sit down and indulge yourself in something comforting! Especially if things are being tough right now- you deserve to treat yourself :)

[lavenrain96]

Blue Flame

For @mikayuuweek

Day 2: Fire/Ice (ft. Dragon!Mika x Pirate!Yuu)

Welcome to the second day~ Enjoy reading! 

---

"I know you like treasures, but this is ridiculous…"

Mikaela perked up when he heard Yuuichirou grumbled those words under his breath. His dragon tail behind him swirled curiously, eyeing the new occupant of the room. 

"You can't make the basement your room. It's uncomfortable, and my crew will think you're greedy when you're not…"

"But… I am greedy," Mikaela pointed out with a small tilt of his head, as if the accusation wasn't anything new. "I'm a dragon, so it's only natural that I exploit the world's riches as if they are my own… especially the shiny ones. Oh, how delightful they are, very pleasing to the eyes...” 

"Well, now you're not, since you have that form. You have to act like one of us," Yuuichirou jabbed with a frown. "You have to keep your dragon's greed in check, otherwise my crew will scream bloody murder that I let a mythical creature like you in." 

"Hmph, such boring rules. This is why I never liked talking to humans; they all get angry and scream with no context." Mikaela scoffed and his tail whacked against the wooden ground aggressively in response to his mood. "A pity that you have such marvelous eyes that glimmer like a rare jade… Maybe I should claw them out of you to add to my collection."

"Hey, hey, I like having my eyes, thank you very much." Yuuichirou refused with a shake of his head before he palmed a hand on his forehead. "Geez, dealing with you on an everyday basis… I don't know what the hell was wrong with me back then…"

Mikaela hummed, amused. "You need me… Well, my pure dragon blood, to be exact. I heard from this Yoichi child that you wanted to go to the Witch's Cove, and seek out the Philosopher's Stone for rather… interesting reasons."

Yuuichirou sighed in annoyance. "Of course, Yoichi would rat me out to you…"

"However, I am also curious about this stone said to grant humans wishes, and immortality. I want to try burning it with my flames to test its might." Mikaela's eyes shined with intent by the challenge, like a hunter observing its prey before releasing its claws for the catch. 

However, Yuuichirou wasn't having any of that.

"I need that stone, so I would appreciate it if you don't melt it right away."

Now, it's Mikaela's turn to grumble. "You are poor entertainment, human. You haven't even seen my flames yet, but you already arrived at that conclusion? Such shallow judgment you have, it's no wonder you humans have short lifespans." 

Yuuichirou could feel one of his eyebrows twitch at the insults casually thrown at him, and he huffed to try to look unaffected by the insults. 

"Well, you never offered to show me your flames, seeing how proud you are and all that. Are you bluffing me?" 

Yuuichirou grinned slightly when Mikaela threw him a halfhearted glare in reaction to his words.

"How cheeky of you," Mikaela commented as he patted at an empty space beside him. "Very well, have a seat and I'll show you." 

Yuuichirou made a small, amused noise before he walked to where Mikaela told him to sit, crossing his legs on the floor. Almost immediately, Mikaela's tail wrapped itself around Yuuichirou's waist to hold him and pull him closer towards him. The distance made Yuuichirou's cheeks warm and he quickly became self-conscious.

"... Too much?" Mikaela asked when he caught the embarrassed expression on Yuuichirou's face.

“Shut it…” 

Mikaela hummed pleasantly at having the rowdy pirate flustered due to their closeness, but he nonetheless allowed Yuuichirou to adjust to a more comfortable position, moving his dragon tail in tow but not completely removing from Yuuichirou’s person. Yuuichirou gave a small frown yet he never voiced a complaint as he finally settled down. 

“Observe, Yuu,” Mikaela requested as he opened his palm and commanded a small flame to ignite on his hand with a silent casting. 

Except… This flame was colored blue.

“Blue… fire?” Yuuichirou murmured with his green eyes shining with curiosity and fascination. “I have never seen such flames like this... Are you the only one who has this kind of power?” 

“... There were others before me, but they have long perished because of the war,” Mikaela explained as he reminisced about a few of his former colleagues who held the same blue flame like he did. He was never close to them, but he could still feel their camaraderie enough to have some sense of belonging in the pack before they all died, leaving him cold with no one else to turn to for centuries. 

Yuuichirou stared a bit at Mikaela who suddenly grew silent with a forlorn look on his face. With the flame still dancing on Mikaela’s palm, Yuuichirou reached his own hand to touch it, completely mesmerized by the rather beautiful color.

He wasn’t expecting the flame to be the total opposite of his expectations, and a shiver ran through Yuuichirou’s body when his fingers touched it, jumping from his place on the floor as he touched something similar to ice. 

“It’s cold…!” 

Mikaela blinked in surprise when Yuuichirou yelped, and he immediately extinguished the fire on his hand as he looked at the other in concern.

“Are you alright?” 

“I wonder… Do I look alright?” Yuuichirou then stuck out his tongue teasingly. “You’re going on about boasting stuff, and whenever I ask something, you would drift into thoughts like an old man. It’s so ancient~” 

Mikaela immediately frowned and he grabbed Yuuichirou's cheek to pinch it gently as a warning. “Human, you’re eons too early to be insulting me; you are but a mere child in my eyes.”

“Ancient, as I have said, oh great Golden Dragon of Fortune.” Yuuichirou praised lightly before laughing when Mikaela pinched his cheek harder, and he winced a bit at the pain. 

Mikaela would normally incinerate anyone who would dare insult him right in his face, but as he gazed quietly at Yuuichirou’s genuine smile through his draconic eyes, he decided that he would let it pass for now. This human had been quite honest with him, hiding his motives carefully yet still being truthful about his thoughts; all the while being very expressive.

What an intriguing human, Mikaela thought as he felt himself smile at Yuuichirou’s silliness, feeling the warmth that the young one was emitting in his company like a gentle flame. Maybe… I won’t be so lonely anymore.

[mineofilms]

The Decline of YouTube

Welcome to another episode on What the FK is up with YouTube these days. I have been on YouTube, well, I have had an account with YouTube since 2006. I used the platform before right after beta testing, but I did not have an official channel till 2006. I have watched YouTube grow so fast in the early years that I didn’t even realize what was happening. Sure, I posted, but I didn’t use for it for monetary gain. I am a film graduate, so I used the platform to upload my video projects so that I had a space to where I could link people to them in the case they wanted to possibly hire me to do their small scale video production work. Now anyone with an iPhone and access to AI tools is a “video production specialist.” However, I wouldn’t ask them technical questions on video production aspects. Lighting, what Dutch angles are, etc… It is likely they will not know what the hell you are even talking about. What I am going to cover here is a few of the more popular topics people tend to complain about with the philosophy and the functionality of how YouTube works currently in 2023. Much of this is going to be logical opinion driven. I will try to pull facts where I can, but more or less, this blog just serves as another cliff note on YouTube and some of the issues I have run into over the years to where I did blogs about them so that if I had to go back and do something YouTube related and ran into another problem I could refer to those blogs to help me figure out the issue. Also, I thought it was a good idea to blog these out for other people who may also run into the same unique issues I have over the years…

YouTube’s Fair Use Policy:

“Fair use is a legal doctrine that says use of copyright-protected material under certain circumstances is allowed without permission from the copyright holder.” ~ChatGPT’s summary.

Fair Use, while clearly defined in the writing of YouTube’s Terms of Service “TOS”, still has that subjective nature to it and it is clear that nature now is being abused. I get that “some” people will attempt to upload full movies on the YouTube platform. There are whole channels dedicated to uploading full length movies. However, many of these channels upload either very old, out of circulation films or films that do not follow the strict copyright laws like some of those really old drive-in style flicks from the 1950s, 60s and 70s. YouTube only cares when copyright claims are filed. If a person, or company doesn’t do that then there isn’t an issue. YouTube is basically saying if you try to pirate newer popular titles we will strike and/or block the account outright. While, I feel, it should be alright for rare, out of circulation, independent, perhaps, banned, or clearly B and C quality movie territory, just so an audience can find them and enjoy them. Popular movies should not be allowed. I mean, I feel like the spirit of the algorithm that supports this is where the problem is.

I do not know how it works specifically. This is all speculation and creative thinking on my side of this. I am not going to pretend I am a coder and I know how this stuff works. I do not have that knowledge. However, if it were me, I would have it looking for big uploads. I mean if we are strictly talking movies here and not music or music video, just movies, these would be massive uploads. Even if compressed, these files would be fairly large. I would have the algorithm look at all large uploads to check for copyright. That would narrow down a lot of the “auto-block” issues that many channels have to deal with that use anything that could be a copyright strike against them. This seems to be a major issue among channels that do reviews or critical breakdown videos. If the algorithm is looking for copyrighted materials, in general, no wonder so many videos are being auto-blocked. They are treating all uploads, all of the time, as possible copyright infringements. While there should be separate layers to it. There should be levels to what is what, how it is labeled in the system, and how it is being used. They use this “algorithm” to do what, exactly? Ok… Fine… Program it a little smarter then. I will role play as the algorithm:

1) There is an upload.

2) Scan file for length

3) Scan file’s video/audio source and content.

4) If length is under (insert generic length of average movie here) ignore as full movie copyright.

5) If file containing possible copyrighted materials, apply rules for use (whatever those rules are).

Again… I do not know how it all works and whatever. This is a sarcastic example. I am simply saying; if we are now using AI for so much. We cannot train it to scan all videos coming in using rules of logic to figure out if said uploads violate the rules of the platform’s Terms of Service (TOS) regarding “Fair Use?” To me this should be broken down into a more binary form for the software to handle anyway.

When I was in computer school, years ago, I learned what an ACL is and how to program one. ACL stands for “Access Control List.” ACLs are a security list that manages permissions, ensuring only authorized users can access resources like files, networks, or systems. It works like a binary switch. If the switch is on to block specific traffic from (insert IP Address here). It will block that traffic and users from the IP or IP ranges from access to that data, which could be a site or platform or specific portions of that platform or website. So to me, this is why I feel like the algorithm’s logic is programed, well, to not accept the rules as they are in the TOS. Either the engineers did not physically do the work to program the specifics or they were told not to. It’s either on purpose or an oversight. It takes a very special mind to sort out and write ACLs. Its pain staking and one can mess up fairly easily. I, personally, was not good at this. I understood, conceptually, how to interpret the data. However, writing the instructions? Not so good…

As Far As Copyright Companies Go…

Yeah, they clearly do not understand the “fair use” laws as they are written. It is a fight that could cost you money or the potential to make money and for what? They have the power and the money to squash your argument. This is why if AI were doing it and the rules followed the physical rules and logic of those rules and their intentions, it would be cut n’ dry. From that, it would be based on a 0 or a 1, conceptually. It either broke a policy or it did not. If it were that simple, most, if not all, of this would be adverted. AI/software is going to behave how we program it to behave. If the TOS says a thing and it is programmed that way in the algorithm it will follow the rule. Take that logic and apply it to what the algorithm actually does and see if it actually matches what the TOS says.

There is also this arrogant attitude from companies about what advanced technology can do to an inflated sense of self-belief in its actual ability to work. This attitude that their program, their policy, their protocol, and their company could, ever be, WRONG… This is a huge problem. Not just in technology, but also in bigger tech and biggest tech, insanely, obnoxiously humongous tech. “Ludicrous Speed! GO!” It terrifies me with its relationships with religion, politics, reality, existential existence itself. We have rules to govern how we do things and the very things that require the rules to operate correctly do not follow the rules and we are told to just ignore them. Is it really a surprise the world is in the turmoil it is in, even at this smallish scale of a video hosting platform for independent creators? That is what YouTube was when it started. For people who couldn’t get their voice out there and now Big Tech and Mass Media have literally stole it with their promises of ad revenue.

YouTube’s Corporate Culture:

Over the time where Google purchased YouTube and what YouTube currently focuses on with issues related to corporate advertising and the platform's shift towards a more corporate and advertising-focused direction. There is an extensive use of advertisements by large corporations on the platform. You all know these by the ads that often annoy, interrupt and disrupt the viewing experience per video. Another significant concern is the abundance of mainstream corporate news content now dominating YouTube. This presence of mainstream news content can overshadow and reduce the visibility of alternative opinions and independent creators. Currently, YouTube is a result of the platform's monetization strategy. YouTube allows content creators to earn revenue through ads displayed on their videos. While this has enabled many creators to earn a living from their content, it has also led to an influx of corporate advertisements, sometimes making the viewing experience less enjoyable for users and less is understating it.

YouTube has drifted away from its original appeal as the be-all-end-all platform for independent creators. It should be noted that Twitch and Rumble are now catching up. They are never gonna be YouTube, but they can take YouTube’s spot for small-time independent creators to go and get a better experience. Perhaps even a better monetization process. The platform initially gained popularity for allowing individuals to upload and share their content, fostering a sense of creativity, entertainment, education and community. YouTube's increasing corporate focus, which is evident in the platform's prioritization of corporate advertising and mainstream news content. This shift has led to a growing perception that YouTube is prioritizing corporate interests over those of independent content creators. These concerns and critiques are rooted in the evolving nature of YouTube as a digital platform.

YouTube has increasingly become a platform for news dissemination. Many mainstream news organizations have established their presence on the platform, uploading news segments and reports. While this provides users with access to a wide range of news content, it can also make it challenging for alternative or independent news sources to gain visibility. There is also pressure from the legacy mass media that what they report is FACT and if other, smaller, independent channels post a video as a news worthy story and it contradicts the reporting from the mainstream media that the uploader’s video is now in question of being labeled as misinformation. This is also a potential problem that is understated most of the time. Mainly due to many of the uploads being opinion-based anyway. Where actual, small time, independent news channels might have a problem there. That part is hard to say, as I do not follow any on the platform. YouTube's shift towards a more corporate and advertising-focused direction is partly a response to the need for profitability. To sustain the platform, YouTube has pursued partnerships with advertisers and legacy media organizations, which has led to the proliferation of corporate content. However, this shift has raised concerns about the platform's commitment to supporting and promoting independent creators. These concerns reflect broader discussions about the role and direction of digital platforms in the modern media landscape, where balancing corporate interests with the needs of the user and independent content creators remains a complex challenge.

What X (formally known as Twitter) is trying to do is be the YouTube of old with promoting everyday X users to report news where they are in the event “something news worthy is happening live” on the platform. While a good thought, I do not think it will succeed. What is more likely to happen is X (formally known as Twitter) will eventually get itself shut down and something new will spark from it. That new “thing” will be what X (formally known as Twitter) is trying to do, mixed in with what YouTube used to be in the early days, before YouTuber, Influencer and Content Creator were even phrases. Most of my thoughts here stems from X (formally known as Twitter) going all weird with pushing news stories that some are legit and others are just nonsense, all while displayed as legit news stories. I had to mute around 100 accounts before I started noticing less and less of that. Granted I may miss a real story that is actually a big story, but I look at things a lot deeper than the Flat Earther, conspiracy pirates that look at Twitter/X as NEWS that requires no validity; and/or look at CNN/FOX/NBC/NewsMax’s YouTube channels as the only places to get news.

YouTube’s Thumbs Up/Down Rating System:

Due to the corporate influencing on YouTube; videos were getting rated worse and worse. This is and was due to us, the viewer, that hates corporate ANYTHING and EVERYTHING… We left cable due to that gross, icky, dirty corporate feeling. These videos were getting lowered and not viewed as much. These companies were paying top dollar for these ads and they are now either not being seen at all or voted as low quality videos. I doubt companies want their ad on videos considered trash. So YouTube changed their rating system to a thumbs-up, thumbs-down where at first we could all see both votes. Flash-forward some years later and they switch the thumbs-down to be hidden at all times. One now can never see the amount of thumbs-down votes a video could have. At this point, it is not possible, before you click on a video to know whether or not the rating system is being honest with itself.

Rather than this idiotic thumbs-up, thumbs-down system, which is currently defunct thanks to YouTube blocking our ability to see any and all thumbs-down, so the system itself is pointless. YouTube now uses this for analytics and the almighty algorithm that basically dictates whether a video is good enough to label as “monetize this video.” I have heard so many horror stories that if the video doesn’t get liked it messes with the amount of monetization the video can get. The more thumbs up, the more money that creator will get for their efforts. This is not what the intention was for the thumbs up and thumbs down or maybe it was, in its current form. I can't help but think of the early days of YouTube when we had the star rating system. It was a system that offered so much more variety. If I found a video to be decent but not stellar or even terrible, I could give it a one, two, three, four, or five-star rating. Now, if a video truly stood out, I'd gladly grant it a five-star rating. This allowed for an averaged assessment of content quality that was our voice on what is good/bad.

Back then, this system served as a natural filter for weeding out subpar quality content. When I searched for a specific topic, all kinds of different videos would come up, and I could quickly gauge their worth to what it is I am interested in at that time. Even before clicking, I could see the star ratings. For instance, if a video boasted 250,000 views and a five-star rating, I knew it was likely to be what I am looking for or, at the very least, be up to the standard described in the title and thumbnail, which now feels all click-baity. Click-Bait came a little later. This is not a very good quality excuse for YouTube to blame Click-Bait for why the rating system was changed. It was changed so they can control how something appears on their website under the impression it is based on our votes. This isn’t much different than me hacking into your computer while you are on your bank website and I change the displayed HTML text in the background of your web browser; displaying whatever text I wanted it to. I could make it literally say anything. Oh, the implications… How is this any different from YouTube? They are literally controlling, telling us, what is good and we should watch this. If I am a million dollar company and I want to advertise on YouTube. Depending on how much money I want to spend I could have my ads on all the popular videos on YouTube, but from YouTube’s algorithm’s point of view.

The star rating system; videos with misleading titles, thumbnails, or poor-quality content would face the consequences of low ratings, because us, the viewers, were thumbs downing these videos. Their videos would display a dismal one-star rating, serving as a clear signal to other viewers that the content was trash. Granted that does not mean the video won’t be enjoyed by others, but it’s extremely implied, and it should be that way. This system was great the way it was. It sifted through the junk, simplified content search-ability, and allowed me to tailor my YouTube experience to my preferences. It's a shame we lost this feature.

YouTube’s Search Engine:

YouTube’s current search engine, how it currently operates, is extremely limited at trying to find something specific. With the evolution of chatbot language modals like ChatGPT. I’d love to see YouTube adapt a language modal AI, like this, to replace YouTube’s search engine or at least as an ad-on. You could have a short conversation with YouTubeSearch, let’s call her ‘Syrche,’ with what specifically you want to see in your search results or what you do not want to see.

An example prompt could be: “Syrche… Please display YouTube’s 15 most watched videos on Starcluster formations. Please display these 15 videos from channels that have between 100,000 and 200,000 subscription followers. Other video search criteria: only show results for Videos that are under 11 minutes and have no mid-video sponsored ads.” Should be noted that ads are to be expected, but what I am specifically asking in my search results are videos that have no “mid-video” ads. This means no breaks during the video. The search results could show me videos with an ad at the beginning of the video, which is to be expected, and ads that might be at the end of the video. There also could be ads in the creation of the video content itself that are not added by YouTube. They would be part of the video uploaded from the uploader. That is the beauty of using a language modal AI for this. It understands the context of your query in conversational form. The thing about AI language prompts is being extremely specific but doing it in the simplest way possible to your own abilities. If I want a more mainstream results driven approach in my search results I would just use the search like normal. If you want something extremely specific include an advanced search engine that is really a prompt answer language AI. I mean, why not? Everyone is using this now.

I guess the Future YouTube or FutureTube would be like YouTube but completely AI dependent. That would be interesting to see. Just imagine a thing like YouTube where you talk to an AI about what you want to watch or even Tell AI what to create for your channel. Maybe even before the end of the decade? Be interesting… Ciao…

The Decline of YouTube by David-Angelo Mineo 10/10/2023 Words 3,289

[leiawritesstories]

CHAPTER ONE: THE STOWAWAYS

Word count: 2k

Warnings: language, slight violence

header image is my own design. watercolors.

It’s here and I’m very excited to share it! Might be a little sporadic at first, though, because the semester is picking up speed and I have more than one big fat paper to write. Yay. Anyway. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, or as she was known on the high seas, Captain Ash Galathynius, was less than impressed with the two men whom Elide had discovered hiding in her hold. Seated behind her simple, tasteful oak desk, she folded her hands together and stared, expressionless, at the duo. Obviously, they were pirates from another ship; their simple clothes, hardened exteriors, and the way the taller one’s eyes tracked around her cabin, cataloging every visible detail of the space, gave them away. Elide’s nod confirmed that they were both unarmed, either having left whatever weapons they’d brought down in their hidey-hole or not having brought weapons at all, confident that they wouldn’t need force to infiltrate Aelin’s ship. She inwardly scoffed at that idea.

“Explain before I form my own conclusions,” she commanded, the authority in her voice unmistakable.

The blonde one grinned a roguish grin that had probably gotten him both into and out of a whole lot of trouble. “Lovely to make your acquaintance, Captain Galathynius. My name’s Fenrys.”

“Moonbeam,” snarled the tall, dark-haired one who seemed to be permanently angry. “Shut the hell up.”

“I wish I could say the same, Fenrys Moonbeam,” Aelin drawled, biting back a smirk. “Would you like to tell me why, exactly, you and Mr. Scowl here decided to try and stow away on my ship?”

“Mr. Scowl,” snickered Fenrys, “that about sums him up, Captain. This is Lorcan.”

“I thought I told you to shut the hell up, Fenrys,” Mr. Scowl--Lorcan--grunted.

“But the Captain asked me to explain, and she outranks you,” Fenrys returned, smirking at the murderous expression on Lorcan’s face.

“If you have anything to add, you’re more than welcome to speak,” Aelin commented, propping her chin on her hands. “Now start talking before I skip the parlay and execute you for trespassing.”

“That’s not how parlay works,” Lorcan grunted.

Aelin just shrugged. “My ship, my rules. Isn’t that how piracy works?”

Lorcan ground his teeth together. “Bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

A dagger whistled through the air and embedded itself in the wall mere millimeters away from his throat. Lorcan jumped, definitely not having expected that. Aelin’s bright blue eyes burned into him, the ring of gold around her pupils literally appearing almost aflame.

“Use that term once more and I won’t willingly miss,” she hissed. She settled back into her chair. “Now talk, you two.”

Lorcan gulped, suddenly gaining a small modicum of fear for the young, female pirate captain. “We were being held aboard the Eyllwe and we escaped, taking one of the rowboats, some six days ago. We’ve heard the Terrasen’s captain was more welcoming than some others, so we decided to find your ship and slip aboard, hoping we could blend in with the crew.”

Aelin raised a golden brow. “The Eyllwe, is it? That right, Fenrys?”

“Uhh, yeah, the Eyllwe.”

She chuckled. “Oh, boys. You really should have done your research before trying to infiltrate my ship.”

Fenrys blinked. “What the hell?”

“I happen to be on very good terms with Captain Ytger of the Eyllwe, and therefore I happen to know that she has been wreaking havoc in the southern seas for at least two months, which makes your story completely impossible. Not to mention that Fenrys here is a terrible co-liar.” She clicked her tongue. “Lesson one of proper ship infiltration, Lorcan. Do your research. And do it well, otherwise you’ll find yourselves in this very situation.” She steepled her fingers. “El?”

Elide Lochan, her petite, sharp-eyed, brunette First Mate, who’d located and captured the two, stepped forward. “Yeah?”

“Open Mr. Scowly’s shirt for me. I’ve got a suspicion.”

“Of course.” She flicked her dagger once, slitting open Lorcan’s shirt. He growled, trying to twist away from her, but she just elbowed him in the ribs and yanked his shirt down so it exposed his chest. And his distinctive, damning, Doranelle tattoo--the black-inked, open-mouthed skull that appeared to be eating the jumble of inked names, all ships the Doranelle had taken. Gavriel did excellent work, but right at that moment, Lorcan really fucking wished he hadn’t asked for such a unique tattoo.

“Fascinating.” Aelin grinned like the cat who ate the canary. “Welcome aboard the Terrasen, Mr. Salvaterre, Mr. Moonbeam. I’m sure Captain Whitethorn expected my ship to be easy prey, no?”

Flabbergasted, Lorcan couldn’t form a response. How the holy fuck does she know my full name? he wondered, realizing that it was probably due to sea stories of him and his famous tattoo, how he inked the names of his conquests onto his skin. 

Fenrys, the moron, swept Aelin a little half-bow. “Thank you, Captain Galathynius.”

She stood and strode around her desk to face them, grinning fiercely. “You have two options.”

“How generous of you,” Lorcan snarked.

Aelin chuckled. “And a sense of humor, too. Fancy that.” She cleared her throat. “Either I kill you right now and have my First Mate dump your worthless carcasses over the side, or you make yourselves useful to me and my ship.”

“I don’t know about Lorcan, but I’d really rather live,” Fenrys announced. “How can I help you, Captain?”

“Well, at least one of you has half a brain,” Aelin drawled. “You, Mr. Moonbeam, are now a Waister. You’ll be a probationary hire for the time being, until you prove yourself worthy of earning pay. You answer to me and my lieutenants and to us alone. Clear?”

“Crystal, Captain.” Fenrys automatically moved to knuckle his brow in deference, forgetting his hands were still bound.

Aelin smirked. “Elide, make sure this all goes in the ship’s records. I don’t need these two staging a revolt on a technicality. They look like the kind that would do something petty like that. Or at least, Scowly here does.”

“You got it, Cap,” Elide smirked, scratching down the information in the ship’s log. “One new Waister. Any more new crew?”

“We shall see.” Turning back to Lorcan, she raised a brow. “And you, Salvaterre? Your choice?”

Lorcan gritted his teeth, his lips pressed into a hard, tight line. “Am I to join the Waisters too, Captain?” He couldn’t keep a hint of derision out of his address to her. 

She clicked her tongue, cocking her head in thought. “No. It’d be a shame to waste an obviously experienced man like you on deck scrubbing, though it certainly wouldn’t hurt your ego.”

“My ego, Captain?” he couldn’t resist asking.

“Quite,” she returned. “And I would be careful what claims you make about my ego, Salvaterre. Remember that nobody here except maybe Fenrys has much care for whether you remain alive or join the fishes.” Her unforgiving eyes drilled into him. “The choice is all yours.”

“Fine,” Lorcan grunted, “I shall join your crew.”

“Welcome to the topmen, then, Lorcan Salvaterre. Like Fenrys here, you’re on probation until you’ve proven yourself worthy of drawing pay. Furthermore,” she paused, tilting her head, “I shall require that you remain.”

“What?”

“You are to remain here after Fenrys is dismissed to be shown to his quarters. I believe we have a few matters to discuss in private.” 

Lorcan shoved down the apprehension that statement brought, forcing his face to remain unchanged. “Fine.”

Aelin waved at Elide. “Show Moonbeam his new quarters. See to it that he’s under Galan’s eye.”

“Aye, Cap.” Elide saluted and led Fenrys away.

Once the door clicked shut, Aelin pulled a chair in front of her desk. “Sit.”

“I’m still tied up, Captain,” Lorcan reminded her.

“You aren’t here to give me lip,” she snorted. “Sit.” Grabbing the rope that bound him, she slacked it just enough for him to sit, then tugged his arms behind the back of the chair and retied the knots. She returned to her seat, now facing him. “Captain Whitethorn is not an idiot, so am I correct in assuming Fenrys knows only that you two needed to get aboard my ship?”

“Fenrys barely even knows that,” Lorcan scoffed, realizing too late that he’d revealed too much.

“I see,” Aelin hummed. “In that case, I shall keep to my hypothesis.”

“Oh, you have a hypothesis?”

“That I do,” she said proudly, “despite you obviously thinking I’m incapable.”

“I don’t--”

“Let’s not lie to each other, Salvaterre.” Her voice went hard. “Deal?”

He said nothing.

“Let me rephrase.” Aelin braced her hands flat on her desk and stared Lorcan dead in the eye. “If you lie to me, whatever deals we make will be considered invalid, and neither I nor any of my crew will hesitate to slit your throat and dump your useless ass overboard. So I repeat, deal?”

Lorcan swallowed, knowing then that he’d wholly underestimated the captain. “Deal.”

“Excellent.” She leaned back, considering. “I know you’re unlikely to directly admit anything you know, so I think I’ll just start conjecturing and see how long it takes you to laugh at my stupidity.”

Shit, Lorcan thought.

“Captain Whitethorn sent you two to infiltrate my ship. There must be some reason Fenrys was sent, that reason not being his sense, so I’ll just guess it has something to do with his shipboard skills.” She watched Lorcan carefully, noting the flash of a suppressed snicker when she said that about Fenrys. “You, obviously, were sent as the responsible one, the one actually charged with the mission and its details. But. Whitethorn doesn’t have any real reason to spy on me, so the command must have come from…higher up.”

Lorcan sucked in a short, tight breath. Aelin grinned.

“I see I’ve hit something. Hmm. The Doranelle is highly respected in the pirate fleet, given that Captain Whitethorn is one of the pirate lords, so let’s just assume he’s on relatively decent terms with Rolfe, shall we? And let’s assume Rolfe is getting a little antsy about a certain Captain Galathynius being rumored to be plotting a coup, shall we? I wonder, whatever would His Bloody Majesty think of that?”

“Fucking hell,” Lorcan mumbled, hardly audible.

Aelin’s grin grew. “Perhaps he’d send a missive to one of his most trustworthy lords, asking that he send a mole or two aboard the Terrasen to keep eyes and ears on young Galathynius.”

“Fuck,” Lorcan groaned. “How the hell?”

“I am familiar with the stupid fucking fears of those in power,” Aelin replied. “Let me assure you of one thing right now. I am not and have never been aiming for the throne.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“No, I can’t. But I hope your time aboard will convince you.”

“Let me ask you something, Captain. Why the hell would Rolfe suspect you plotting to steal his throne unless he had a reason?”

“Because I am a Galathynius, you idiot.”

Lorcan considered that answer, his mind turning and turning until--“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.” Aelin said dryly. “I’m Rhoe’s daughter.”

“Nobody knew Rhoe even had a kid until you showed up,” Lorcan mused, “and…everyone thinks you’re, well…”

“A man,” Aelin smirked, smug. “I know.”

“Why?”

“You haven’t earned the right to know that.” She folded her hands. “Thank you for confirming what I suspected about your presence here, Salvaterre.” Leaving him in his seat, she walked over to the door and opened a panel in it, snapping her fingers twice.

Before whoever she’d signaled could come to the cabin, though, Lorcan’s hand wrapped around her throat. Obviously, he’d broken out of the chair--its pieces laid on the floor--and freed one hand, the other was still tied to half the chair, which he’d dragged with him. Aelin smothered a proud smirk. Just as she’d expected, Lorcan had finally taken advantage of the way she’d deliberately left his bonds slack enough for this.

“Call off your lieutenant and do as I fucking say,” Lorcan snarled into her ear, pressing his weight against her back.

So Aelin kneed him directly in the groin and as he grunted, surprised, his hold slacked just enough for her to grab his bound arm and flip him onto his back on the floor, another of her daggers at his throat. “Nice try.”

Those words and her smug little smirk were the last thing Lorcan remembered before her hand pinched the juncture of his shoulder and his neck and blackness washed across his vision.

~~~~~~~

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[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ seventeen

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 6.8k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, f oral sex, fingering, explicit smut ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

mists of celeste act two ➻ part seven

​​​

“I’m afraid.”

You kick at the water under your bare toes, barely feeling the chill of the liquid as your foot passes through it.

“I know, Y/N. I am too, but I promise he’ll be okay.”

The clearing is empty tonight. Your only company is the brilliant red moon hanging in the sky above you and a scattering of stars around it. Daichi’s absence does not go unnoticed in your eyes, although you can’t say you miss his presence all too much with what you went through before sleeping.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of…”

It is a mystery as to why you are visiting this dreamscape now of all times, especially considering Daichi’s absence. You would rather just dream normally, but that would welcome nightmares that you don’t want to see or experience for a long time.

“What are you afraid of?”

You squint at the water underneath you. Your reflection glares back at you, just as cruel and cold as always, and no matter how many times you kick it away, it comes straight back after a few ripples. Infuriating. The one person you want to run away from the most is ironically the one you can’t run from at all.

“Myself.”

That’s what you had told Seonghwa when he asked what you meant. A lapse in judgment perhaps, opening a can of worms that should never be opened to anyone, and yet it spilled from your lips with no hesitation whatsoever. Stupid. You ought to learn to control your tongue better. At least, that’s what Daichi would scold you for.

“Don’t open up to anyone.”

“Hide yourself.”

“You’re better off on your own.”

And yet, here you are alone, and you don’t feel better off at all. Because you aren’t truly alone, and that reflection in the shallow lake keeps glaring back at you, and you can’t pull your thoughts away from what happened in that warehouse. Seonghwa didn’t ask you to elaborate on what the hell you meant when you said you were scared of yourself, but he didn’t need to. Your loose lips spilled the truth after two minutes of tears and hand-holding.

“I became someone else when she s-stabbed San. I don’t… I don’t know. I-I have no idea what came over me, b-but I became someone I never thought I would be. Someone I never wanted to be.”

Perhaps Daichi had valid points in saying that you shouldn’t get attached. If becoming attached will cause you to turn into the monster who chased Cara into a corner, then you never want to become attached to anyone or anything. It’s a bit late to make those claims, though, because again, your thoughts are filled with San. San, San, San.

You aren’t the type of person who particularly enjoys exploring emotions and thoughts, but you need to get to the bottom of where that monster came from. The only way to do that is to confront the beast head-on. It’s not like your reflection in the lake is going to jump up and talk to you, however, so you plop to the wet ground and cross your legs under you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N?” You mutter to your reflection, watching minuscule waves ripple across the surface of the water. “The last person you were attached to was…”

“You did well, Y/N. Remember that.”

Impossibly tall brick walls. It took nearly half an hour to scale just one of them with a sniper on your back. Thirty-two members of the Royal Guard of Eros lined up along a purple carpet. The ego of that king was baffling to a ridiculous degree. Who else would set a royal rug out for a private execution? There he sat upon a gilded throne, golden crown resting on the top of his head. And then – two more members of the royal guard, arms looped around a prisoner who was dragging heavy chains behind him. A black hood over his face, but you knew exactly who he was.

You still remember the cool touch of the air around you as you set up your rifle. You were a bit bold that night, closer to the scene of the execution than was genuinely safe. It wasn’t about being safe that night though.

What was it about? Hell, you can hardly remember at this point what emotions were running through you. You wish you could list your thoughts and feelings out, detail every frustration, and yet all you remember is guilt. An emotion all too familiar. It hasn’t left your gut since you saw San strapped to a chair across from you because fucking hell, he would have been fine if not for you.

If only you hadn’t come into his life, if only you had done things differently, not gotten attached, not said a word. Could have – should have – left without a trace, should have never boarded The Horizon in the first place. So so many things you should have done but didn’t.

You slam a fist down at the reflection of your face. A pointless action, honestly, but at least it makes you feel slightly better. Not for long though, because the guilt just continues to eat away at your insides. The pain is almost physical, such a deep ache in your chest that you have to curl on your side in the midst of the black waters. It soaks through the flimsy white fabric around you and freezes against your skin.

Warmth. That’s what you need. Comfort perhaps. When was the last time you had that? Truly? You’ve been on your own for so long that you don’t remember. It’s childish to think of, but you just want to curl up next to someone in bed and stay there forever. This emptiness and pain is the only constant in your life – along with that nagging guilt – and for once, you want a damn change. You drag your knees closer to your chest, wishing the pain away and squeezing your eyes shut to block out the sight of your glaring reflection.

You don’t know how long you remain like that, but the cold does eventually dissipate. The dreamscape fades away little by little; you are slowly waking up again, a strange concept if you think about it too hard. You opt not to think about it though, letting yourself return to the waking world.

Reality is darker than your dreamscape was. The room is nearly pitch black, just a bit of yellow light filtering in from under the door. You roll onto your back and look over at where Seonghwa should be. He’s still sound asleep, lying on his side and facing you. His features remain soft and gentle without any tension. In the back of your mind, you think about how warm his touch was when he took hold of your hand and held you to his chest.

Waking up is worse than being stuck in the dreamscape. Your whole body aches and burns, muscles tired from the previous day’s strain, and you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. It’s your leg that hurts the worst though; every small movement sends shockwaves of searing pain through your whole thigh. Your chest aches and burns as well, although not being of any physical wounds. No, it’s only thoughts of San that fill your mind as you wake up. Then the guilt bites at your heels, gnawing and gnawing until you give in and let the cold wash over you.

Seonghwa’s hand lingers in the empty space between the two of you. The warmth of his touch is still on your mind — the need for comfort. You want to reach out and take hold of his hand but push that desire down with as much willpower as you have left in your body.

You muster up enough strength to roll back onto your side and face the wall rather than look at Seonghwa. When you shift on the mattress, you feel Seonghwa’s hand brush against your back, and that desire trickles through the cracks in your resolve.

“I just don’t want to be alone.”

You were far too open last night, that’s for sure. Said far too much and exposed more than you should have. You let your guard down – you’ve done that twice now with these damn pirates – but the warmth Seonghwa offered was too tempting to pass up.

“You aren’t alone, Y/N. Not anymore. I promise.”

“I’m tired of this feeling… I’m sick of feeling nothing but empty and cold.”

“I know… I know what you’re feeling. You have us now. You don’t have to do anything on your own anymore.”

Even though Seonghwa tried to reassure you, it only made you feel worse. Relying on people. That’s what he had suggested. You have never relied on anyone a day in your life. It was just how you were raised, what you were taught, the thing you were supposed to do. Relying on someone meant that you were not strong enough to do it on your own. That weakness was unneeded and unwanted. So why was Seonghwa so desperate for you to rely on them?

Your breath catches in your throat as Seonghwa shifts. His body draws closer, and he drapes an arm over your waist. You panic under the touch, his fingers latching onto the other side of your abdomen without a breath of hesitation. Your shoulder nearly knocks him in the chin as he presses his face into your back. The sudden overwhelming warmth that washes over you catches you off-guard. The touch is foreign and unfamiliar, but it’s not something you’re opposed to either. You want so desperately to press back against him and just relax in his grip, but your mind won’t let you. The sirens that blare in your head ring Daichi’s warnings. Seonghwa’s face is so close to the neckline of your shirt. If he woke up now, he could see the markings running down your spine. How detrimental would that be?

And yet. You don’t push him away; you don’t slide out from under his arm, you don’t do anything except relax some of the tension in your shoulders. The sensation is comfortable; it takes away that nagging coldness and pushes the anxieties and worries surrounding San to the side. Funny how the slightest motion managed to have that impact on you. Seonghwa presses his head to the back of your neck. Hot breath fans over your skin, and you shiver at the sudden sensation.

For once, you don’t feel empty. You feel comforted, wanted, needed maybe. You’ve always felt needed, but only as a tool or a weapon. Not just as a person. And yet, as Seonghwa clings to you, you don’t feel like either of those things. You bring a hesitant hand up and drape it over Seonghwa’s, fingers finding his and lacing through the spaces between them so you can cling to him. You don’t know what time it is or if you should go back to bed, but you do anyway, clinging to Seonghwa without a care in the world.

It’s the most peaceful sleep you have had in months, if not longer. Rarely do you ever sleep with such a sense of warmth of comfort, and it’s even more rare for you to escape with a dreamless night. But after you fell back asleep with Seonghwa, you didn’t dream of anything at all, not even that cursed dreamscape that’s so prevalent in your life.

Seonghwa wakes you up the second time – well, less of Seonghwa himself and more of Seonghwa’s wristband beeping obnoxiously in your ear and waking the both of you up. Seonghwa pulls himself up, hand retracting from your waist in an instant, and you try not to think about how much you miss the warmth already. He rolls to the side and throws his legs over the side of the bed. You can’t see what he’s doing even as you turn on your side to look at him because he has his back to you, but his voice resounds a few moments later, and you understand what’s going on.

“Captain?” Seonghwa asks, voice thick with grogginess. “Oh? Hold on.”

Seonghwa stands up and walks around the edge of the bed, eyes finding yours as he approaches you. He kneels next to you even though he could’ve just moved over on the bed, but you don’t question it in favor of listening to whatever Hongjoong has to say. Seonghwa fiddles a bit with his wristband – which he took back shortly before you fell asleep the first time last night – then sound begins to filter through the band.

“Okay, fire away, Hongjoong.”

“So, San woke up early this morning.”

Despite the fantastic news, Hongjoong doesn’t sound all too enthused. Instead, he seems exhausted – like he stayed up all night, which you don’t doubt he did given his concern for San. The news still sparks hope in you, a tiny bit of warmth blossoming across your chest as you sit up in bed.

” About four hours ago when I was taking my shift for watching him. He’s still in a lot of pain, but the doctor gave him some IV drips to help him recover some of the lost fluids. She said that she would typically keep a patient like San for a few more days, but since we have a healer on deck, then we can take him back to the ship. We’re letting him rest up a little more, and we won’t make him walk all the way back to the transport train on his own, but we’ll be heading out soon. Meet us at the platform in around thirty minutes, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Joong,” Seonghwa mutters in response, glancing up at you to get confirmation. You nod a few times, and Seonghwa pulls back to stand up straight again. Hongjoong doesn’t respond, leaving the two of you with the information and nothing else.

You groan as you pull your legs over the side of the bed. The minute movements cause pain to rip through your left leg, and you grip it lightly as you try to sit up straight. Seonghwa notices the pain in a heartbeat, hands darting out to latch onto your wrists before you decide to move further.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-Yea, it’s just… fucking sore,” you grumble and let Seonghwa put his hands in yours to help pull you up. The motion causes more pain to tear through you, just the slightest twitches of your muscles burn and ache, and you let go of Seonghwa’s hands to fall back to the edge of the bed with a grimace.

“Need me to carry you, princess?” Seonghwa cracks a small smile, but you don’t return it this time. He must sense that something isn’t right in that moment because he moves to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. “Are you still worried about San?”

Funny how he managed to hit the nail on the head with only one guess.

“Are you not?” You counter, trying to deflect the question back onto him.

“I am… I am, but I am also looking at the positives as well. He’s awake. Less than twenty-four hours after passing out and nearly dying. That’s – that’s something only a fighter could do.” Seonghwa squeezes the edge of the bed, smiling at you when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “I told you he wouldn’t go down easily.”

“And even if he recovers from the physical aspects, then what? What about the mental parts?” Your gaze flits over to Seonghwa over and over, not daring to maintain eye contact. Seonghwa’s hand shifts from the mattress to grab the hand resting on your thigh. You freeze and look him in the eye the second he holds your hand. It’s like magic the way even just that slightest touch brings you out of the anxiety and refocuses your thoughts.

“And what about you? When are you going to worry about yourself for two seconds?”

You huff and tug your hand away from Seonghwa’s.

“I don’t have time to worry about myself,” you mutter as you look away from the dark-haired man. You barely catch sight of the smirk that travels across his lips before you lose sight of him.

“Okay, princess, well, until you do have time to worry about yourself, I’ll just do that worrying for you.” Seonghwa pushes off the bed, pressing his hands against his thighs as he gets up, and you narrow your eyes at his sudden movements. “But right now, let’s get to the train platform and off this fucking planet.”

“Okay, I can get behind that,” you respond before trying to stand up again. You aren’t sure why you thought you would have better luck this time around, because you don’t fare any better. Seonghwa’s hands dart out to catch you as your steps falter.

“Hey… don’t push it. You don’t have to act strong for anyone.”

“I’m not trying to act strong. I’m–”

“You’re trying to prove yourself to Hongjoong,” Seonghwa interjects, hands sliding up your arms, and you freeze upon hearing the words. Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating how Seonghwa read you that easily.

“Who said that? I have nothing to prove to him.”

“Except you think you do, even though you truly don’t.” Seonghwa tilts his head from side to side, neck popping with the movements, then he turns around in front of you. You blink at his back in disbelief for a few moments, unsure of what the hell he’s trying to do. It’s only when he stoops down a little and sticks his arms out behind him that you realize what he wants you to do.

“No. Nope. Not happening. Absolutely not,” you refuse before he even has the chance to ask you to climb on. Seonghwa releases a huff of frustration and twists to look at you over his shoulder.

“Would you rather me carry you like a corpse?”

“Yes, actually, I would.”

“That’s somehow less embarrassing?”

“I would rather you drag me out by the heels before I get on your back like a child.” You cross your arms over your chest to accentuate the point, but Seonghwa doesn’t budge either.

“Neither of us is leaving this room until you get on my back.”

“This is absolutely ridiculous. I am not doing that. I don’t know why the hell you would think th–” You cut off with a small shriek as Seonghwa reels on you, arms lifting you over his shoulder with too much ease. He bends you over him, and frankly, all you can see in this position is ass. Maybe he was right and this is in fact worse than being on his back.

“Still want to be carried like a corpse?” Seonghwa asks, securing a hand on your hip.

“I will kill you in your sleep, Seonghwa.”

“Kinky.”

“If you don’t–”

Again, Seonghwa doesn’t let you finish the thought, although this time it’s because he’s lowering you back to the ground with a somewhat pleased smile stretching across his lips. You glare back at him, face moderately deadpan as he continues to look pleased with himself, then smack him upside the arm.

“Shut up and turn around,” you huff, lifting your chin in an indignant manner.

“Sorry, princess, but you’ll have to try harder than that.” His teasing doesn’t escape your notice, nor does it take a while to sink in this time, but you don’t give him the pleasure of seeing you get flustered again. You smack his arm a second time. Seonghwa chuckles as he turns back around, squatting down again to let you awkwardly jump up on his back. You nearly miss entirely thanks to your leg, but Seonghwa catches you nonetheless. He feigns a grunt as you settle on his back.

“Make one smart-ass remark and I’ll end you.”

“Well damn, aye-aye Captain.” Seonghwa tosses his head back with a laugh, and his hair brushes across your cheek as he moves. You secure yourself further by draping your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he takes you into the hall. Your whole body burns with embarrassment; you truly meant it when you said you would instead be dragged by your ankles, but that is not an option. This, however, is truly humiliating. It only gets worse as Seonghwa descends the stairs with you on his back, and the bartender catches sight of you two before you step out into the streets.

“Rough night?” He chuckles, wiping down a clear glass with a cloth.

“I went a bit too hard on round three, but she’ll be okay,” Seonghwa jests as he passes a crooked smile to the bartender. You feign a laugh of your own, cheeks searing from the implications in his words, then tighten your grip on his neck.

“You wouldn’t make it to round three, pretty boy. I guarantee you’d be out after one.” You hiss the words under your breath, too embarrassed to say them any louder than that. Seonghwa chuckles then pinches the underside of your uninjured thigh lightly as he pushes out of the hotel.

“Is that a challenge?”

“You fucking wish.”

“Hm…” Seonghwa trails off, leaving you with only an indistinct sound that doesn’t confirm or deny anything. Even though you can’t see his face, you can practically hear the smirk in his tone as he speaks again. “Perhaps I do.”

“Stop saying stupid shit,” you mutter through the embarrassment, unable to run away since you’re planted on his back.

“It seems to be the only way to get your mind off things. San in particular.” Seonghwa heaves a deep sigh as you weave through the crowds. It’s still morning, as evidenced by the sun that doesn’t hang in the middle of the sky quite yet, but the streets are still filled to the brim. “Constantly looking at the negatives will get you nowhere in life. Just thinking: what’s going to go wrong? That’s a recipe for disaster, as is only thinking about the past. What went wrong in the past doesn’t necessarily mean that it will go wrong in the future. When was the last time you took a step back and just let yourself relax?”

“I don’t know…” You press yourself closer to Seonghwa, chin resting atop his shoulder as you mull over the question. The proper answer would probably be never because again, you can’t catch a fucking break.

“God, you’re just like Hongjoong,” Seonghwa chuckles as he shakes his head a little. “That explains why you don’t see eye to eye. Too damn similar. I need to get the two of you in a room and give you a bottle of alcohol. See how you’re feeling after that.”

“I don’t have time to get drunk.”

“What? You have other plans?”

“I-I… well, no. I just don’t have time.”

“You’ll need a better excuse than that, princess.”

You don’t respond, frowning at Seonghwa’s side profile out the corner of your eye as he continues to carry you through the streets. Once the silence arrives though, your worries and anxieties return. Perhaps Seonghwa was right and those sorts of distractions are the only thing that can keep you from being negative.

“Were you having nightmares last night?”

The question catches you off-guard, and you pull your chin up to blink at Seonghwa’s face in wonder. He keeps his eyes forward, watching the people around you rather than meeting your curious stare.

“N-No, not really. Why?”

“You were tossing and turning most of the night.”

“Oh… oh.”

“That’s why I moved closer to you, in the hopes that I could help you rest easier in the very least. I’m a light sleeper, so don’t think you woke me up or anything.”

You subconsciously tighten your grip on Seonghwa as he says the words. There is warmth in them; comfort and peace – all things you aren’t used to having. Just the thought of Seonghwa realizing that you weren’t sleeping well and trying to comfort you is overwhelming. He wanted to help.

Why? Surely he has an ulterior motive, something that drives him to act that way. There has to be. No one ever just offers help like that without wanting something in return. Maybe it’s a game. Betrayal at the end perhaps? It wouldn’t be the first time someone has done that to you. And yet as that warmth persists, the only question you can think of is why.

“Stop thinking so hard. I can practically hear you.”

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“I’m only shutting up because we’re at the platform.”

“Your point?”

“You don’t want to greet San?”

You snap your head up upon hearing Seonghwa’s words. Sure enough, there lies the train platform. Hongjoong and Mingi are both standing next to the train car, Hongjoong’s hands pressed against his hips as he looks at you and Seonghwa approaching. Then there beside Hongjoong’s lithe figure stands San, albeit a little hunched and with a crutch resting under his right arm, but alive and awake nonetheless. Seonghwa doesn’t wait for you to tell him to set you down; he bends so you can hop off his back and move towards San.

However, you don’t move right away, a little stuck in place as you meet San’s eyes. He looks exhausted, but he still presses a smile across his lips nonetheless. It’s awkward, tense, and completely the wrong time for this with Hongjoong, Mingi, and Seonghwa all lingering nearby.

“I-I… I’m gl-glad you’re up,” you stammer. In your sudden bout of nervousness, you press closer to Seonghwa’s side. If he seems surprised, he doesn’t make it known; his hand darts to rest against the small of your back.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” San responds, smile never leaving his lips.

“You can save the pleasantries for later,” Hongjoong cuts in, tone flat but you catch the relief on his features nonetheless. “Let’s just get off this damn planet.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Seonghwa says, returning Hongjoong’s words with a small smile. “I think we’re all ready to put this place behind us and move onto the next lead.” Oh, right. That’s how this whole mission started: finding a lead for a Siren. Funny how now it feels like that’s never what this was about. Hongjoong nods and turns to step onto the train car, and Mingi follows suit quickly, an arm looping around San’s back to help him move. Seonghwa doesn’t give you that same pleasure; he picks you up against, cradling you like a baby this time, and you press your lips into a frown as he carries you onto the train. However, the action isn’t directed at Seonghwa at all, not related in the slightest in fact.

There was an awkward hesitance between you and San. You can’t pinpoint it. You should be over the moon because he’s up, alive, and awake like Seonghwa said. Except you aren’t. Something feels unfinished that leaves a lingering bad taste in the back of your throat.

Seonghwa doesn’t squeeze you in beside San in the booth he sits at with Hongjoong and Mingi. Instead, he slips you into the booth behind where San sits, then slides across the cushion to sit beside you. It isn’t until the train begins to move that he speaks. His words are hushed and spoken so quietly that you have to lean in to catch them.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he murmurs. His gaze is almost too soft when he looks over at you.

“Who said I was gonna cry?” You huff, folding your arms over your chest as you refuse to meet Seonghwa’s gaze. Seonghwa doesn’t answer right away, and it leaves an opening for you to elaborate on your feelings. You jump at the chance, which is strange because you regularly would never be the type to do so. “Something doesn’t feel right with him.”

“You need to give it time. You can’t just… expect things to be the same after what the two of you went through. Th–”

“That changes people, I know.”

“I was going to say that the best thing you can do right now is give him time. He needs to work through what happened on his own, especially since it was something so personal to him. And in the meantime, you need to take a step back and look after yourself.”

“Easy to say.”

“Harder to do,” Seonghwa says. You let your hand fall to the space between the two of you, and he laces his fingers through yours with no hesitation. Neither of you speak for quite sometime after that. You don’t know how or when but you eventually fall asleep with your fingers intertwined with his and your cheek against his shoulder.

It’s another dreamless sleep, and you can feel the rumble of the train against your body the whole time but it isn’t enough to wake you up. Seonghwa doesn’t even budge – at least you don’t notice anything. When he finally taps your arm and squeezes your hand to tell you that the train has stopped, you don’t see any signs of grogginess or sleep on Seonghwa’s sharp features.

“We’re here, princess.”

You nod a few times and pull your hand out of Seonghwa’s to rub at your eyes with the back of your hands. As you stand up, you see Mingi carry San off the train on his back, his body limp against Mingi’s much larger one. A surge of panic courses through you. Seonghwa seems to notice immediately, his hand returning to the small of your back.

“He was tired too but Hongjoong didn’t want to wake him up.”

“Ah,” you exhale while watching Mingi and Hongjoong pull ahead in the direction of the ship. Seonghwa picks you up once more, and you’ll be quite pleased when you can walk on your own again because for some reason it feels even more embarrassing to be carried onto the ship.

The two of you fall into a reasonably comfortable silence after that. There is no need to say anything else, even as you board the ship with Yeosang and Jongho waiting just inside to greet your return. You aren’t particularly interested in talking to either of them at the moment; in fact, you aren’t interested in talking to anyone at all. You would really love to have about ten glasses of whatever alcohol Seonghwa was offering earlier.

Seonghwa drops you off at your room, which you’re grateful for because he seems to have read your mind once again. However, as soon as he puts you on the bed and moves to pull away, you snag his sleeve.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, scooting back to the edge of the bed where you sit.

“I-I’m scared of being alone again,” you say through a small stammer.

“We’re not going anywhere, Y/N.” Seonghwa brings a hand to brush a few loose strands off your forehead. He bends at the waist, lips coming to rest on your skin. The touch is gone so quickly that if you hadn’t been so rapt you would have missed it. You want more.

Shaky hands find Seonghwa’s collar and tug him further down until he has to brace his hands on the mattress. Your lips are centimeters apart, hot breath mixing together, and the two of you stop there. The tension in the room is so thick that you could slice through it with a knife. Seonghwa’s lips part then close over and over. You can’t tell whether he wants to say something or not, but he doesn’t let you think on it for long because he presses forward. Your lips collide. The force is harder than you expected, but Seonghwa’s lips are like a cushion on yours.

So many warning signals are firing off in your head, telling you that this is a bad idea, this won’t fix anything, this will only make things worse and worse over time, you’ll regret this. You push them all to the side when Seonghwa applies more pressure to your lips, and your desperate hands work their way up to wrap around Seonghwa’s neck and entangle in his hair.

Warmth. It’s what you are desperate for, what you want more than anything else. You want what Seonghwa offers so severely that you don’t even stop to think about what sort of consequences might unfold because of this. Seonghwa’s hands find your waist and squeeze tight. He lifts you up to push you further onto the mattress, making room to climb on with you. Your lips never disconnect. The warmth spreads like wildfire through your body, every single touch leaves you hot, and when Seonghwa kneels over you on the mattress, that heat spreads further down.

You kick your shoes off as best you can, sending them sprawling across the floor, and Seonghwa takes it as an invitation to do the same. You part for only a few seconds to catch your breath. In that lapse, Seonghwa fumbles with his belt buckle and tugs the leather off to toss it to the floor alongside your shoes. When he moves back down to capture your lips again, his thigh presses hard against your clothed core. You gasp at the sensation, and Seonghwa takes the opportunity to slip his long tongue between your lips. Perhaps if you weren’t so desperate, you would put up more of a fight, but the second his tongue breaches your mouth, you give in and let him win dominance.

Seonghwa slides a hand down your injured leg, brushing over your thigh with a featherlight touch before moving his hands inwards. He catches the band of your pants between deft fingers and starts to tug them down. You don’t stop him; the sensation feels too good and the heat it provides spurs you ever onward. He pulls off your lips to focus on tugging the pants down, taking extra care around your bandages. His lips leave a hot path down your skin as well, kissing every spot he can as he pulls and pulls until your pants are around your ankles.

There is force behind his actions but still hesitance and gentleness. He treats you like a piece of glass, long fingers dancing over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Seonghwa starts to work his way back up your body, and you are ready to grab him by the shirt and tug his clothing off when he hesitates at your hips.

Soft lips touch the dip of your hipbone. His tongue drags across the skin next and sucks dark marks across the canvas of your body. He works his fingers under the band of your underwear and begins to tug them off much slower than he pulled your pants off. Your heart leaps a little in your chest as he exposes your lower half. Once your underwear is gone, you feel bare even though you’re still half-clothed. Seonghwa’s hands follow the curves of your body until he finds yours. Your fingers thread together and squeeze tight.

You glance down at where Seonghwa is positioned between your legs when nothing happens. He blinks back at you with wide eyes, and even though he doesn’t verbalize it, the question hangs in the air between you.

Are you sure about this?

You nod and exhale a breathy “yes”, then Seonghwa moves forward. The flat of his tongue drags against your folds, pressing them open, and you jolt when he brushes over your clit. His hands stay in yours. With each prod of his tongue – his talented tongue, at that –  he squeezes your hands a bit. Your whole body is on fire as he continues his ministrations, and you know you won’t last long if he keeps up like this.

One of his hands slips away from yours after a little while, moving to join his tongue between your legs, and you cry out softly when he pushes a single finger into you. His fingers are deceptively lithe and thin, but now that one is actually in you, you’re realizing how big they actually are. Seonghwa presses kiss after kiss against your clit and pauses every once in a while to lick a long stripe over your folds as his fingers work you open. It doesn’t take long for him to add a second and start scissoring you. It’s when he crooks his fingers in you and sucks harshly at your clit that an orgasm crashes over you. You try to bite back a moan but the sound tumbles forth nonetheless, filling the air with your pleasure as Seonghwa helps you ride out the intense sensation. You are still recovering from the blinding light that overtook your vision when he pulls his fingers out of you, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. You think he’s going to pull away completely and leave, fingers tightening around the ones that your hand still holds.

“Please,” you whisper. You say nothing other than that, but the meaning is there for Seonghwa to interpret and pick up on. He does, and you let his hand go so that he can fumble with the button of his pants. A prominent bulge resides behind the fabric, one that you can’t take your eyes off. Needless to say, you aren’t at all ready when his member does spring loose. He isn’t confident for nothing, that much is obvious. You gnaw on your lower lip as you look over him, still enraptured by his sheer beauty and attractiveness even in the low light of the room. A few strands of dark hair have fallen over his eyes, and you don’t hesitate before reaching up to brush them out of the way. Your fingers trace down the side of his face at you bring your hand back down, but Seonghwa catches hold of it and laces his fingers through yours.

Pressing soft kisses against your fingers, Seonghwa positions himself between your legs with his free hand. You gasp as his member pushes into you and squeeze his hand tighter. You ball up the sheets into your other fist. Seonghwa catches the movements out the corner of his eye. His other hand darts out to fold around that one too. As he continues to sheath his cock in you, he leans forward. Your hands come to rest beside your head with Seonghwa pinning them to the mattress. He bottoms out a moment later. Neither of you moves, drinking in the sensation and each other without saying a word.

Then with a small nod, you prompt Seonghwa to move. He does, pulling all the way out before fucking back into you with a sharp thrust. The snap of his hips causes a moan to tumble from your lips. Seonghwa eats it right up; he bends down to capture your mouth in his again. This time, you let his tongue in immediately, and you can almost taste yourself on him. The filthiness of that fact draws a whimper out of you, and you bring up your right leg to hook around Seonghwa’s hips. Your left leg is practically useless and you could move it if you wanted to be in pain. The pure pleasure Seonghwa is providing is all you want though.

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he builds a steady rhythm to fuck you into the mattress. Your moans are obscene in quantity and volume. Seonghwa’s lips never leave yours though so the sounds don’t go anywhere except his mouth. Small grunts escape him with each harsh thrust, but other than that he is a quiet lover. After a few minutes like that, you’re sure that your orgasm is coming soon. Then Seonghwa shifts his hips ever so slightly, and suddenly, you are seeing stars. He knocks against your sweet spot only two times before your orgasm crashes over you. The sensation of your walls tightening around his member spur him to hit his climax as well. The warmth that overcomes you is the best you’ve felt yet.

Seonghwa relaxes against your body, lips sliding down to press kisses against the line of your jaw. If your chest wasn’t heaving so hard, you would try to return the kisses with ones of your own. As you’re basking in the aftermath with Seonghwa panting over you, something hits you. You aren’t sure what it is, and the feeling it leaves in your chest is not something you ever want to experience again. And then you become cold again.

✧✧✧ a/n: hi hello yes slkdjfaklsdjf i don’t have much to say for myself with this chapter because :) hA oashdfojoij what did yall think tho are you liking it how do we feel what’s popping im loasdjfoij i would really love to know!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman​ @xxbluestrifexx @yayhei @haotheheckk @noonawriter 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[karlyfr13s]

Helping Destiny Along

A fluffy CS one-shot for the lovely @teamhook

Thank you @veryverynotgoodwrites for being one heck of a beta, and @the-darkdragonfly for your brainstorming powers!

Summary: Henry Mills has a theory: for each Captain Hook, there must be an Emma Swan. Well, he found Princess Emma Nolan at long last and is determined to bring her together with Killian Jones now that he's back in the Wishverse version of the Enchanted Forest.

Read it on AO3

At nineteen, Princess Emma Nolan believed in True Love. After all, her parents had found each other, and everyone knew theirs was a legendary love worthy of poetry and song. She watched for a prince from the high windows of her tower bedroom, waiting for someone tall, dark, and handsome to sweep her off her feet. He would be bold, romantic, dashing, and kind-hearted—she just knew it.

At twenty-two, she concluded that such a love was rare and that her parents may be the only two people with a Capital-T, Capital-L True Love, so she started looking for the more run-of-the-mill variety. Instead of waiting for someone to ride up to the castle gate and court her, she took a more active approach and sought her love by traveling and meeting new people. When that didn’t work either, Princess Emma tried for mutual attraction, which was fun at twenty-four, but grew stale by twenty-five. So she resigned herself to loving her kingdom and her people.

At twenty-eight, a man knocked on the door and utterly transformed her life. To be clear, she did not love that particular man. Henry came from a faraway land and told her fantastic tales that seemed beyond the reach of even her magic, and while she did not love him, he told her somewhere out there in a world beyond her grasp there was an Emma Swan who was his mother, and who loved him ferociously. For days, she and her parents welcomed Henry to stay in their home and share meals at their table, and for days he regaled them with stories of his world and of other versions of each member of the Nolan family. They were spellbound by his narratives. He was a gifted storyteller, and as if he’d known this was too fantastic to be believed, he came with something called photographs that showed a still window into his world. She saw a version of her mother, Queen Snow, but much younger and with close-cropped dark hair instead of the silvery tresses she was accustomed to. Her father was another surprise--he looked barely older than Emma herself, sandy hair where now there was gray, and while she knew her father was still a strong and capable swordsman, this version of King David seemed able to challenge even the mightiest ogre.

Princess Emma Nolan even saw herself, but not herself. They looked identical, she and Henry’s mother, and while her style was different from this unknown twin’s, she couldn’t help but notice some similarities. Emma Swan was often pictured in a short red leather coat, while Princess Emma Nolan’s favorite doublet was a rich blue leather. When she commented, Henry told her they both wore them like armor, gesturing to the bruise on his shoulder from their earlier sparring session in the yard. Emma Swan liked to pull her hair back, wearing it high on her head much like Princess Emma Nolan when she wasn’t expected at court or in her regal finest. Henry even had a picture of his mother with a sword--is she trained as well? She’d asked, and Henry grinned at the question, answering with another tale of his mother besting a pirate in single combat!

“I’m pretty sure that fight was rigged though,” he admitted as they walked the castle gardens one afternoon. “And that’s part of why I’m here.” He stopped and faced her, saying he hoped she could believe one more outlandish story before he had to return to his world.

“You seem to come well-armed with evidence, Henry. I don’t see why I should doubt you at this point.”

“My mother, Emma Swan, is an incredible woman. It took her a long time, but she found her True Love, and I think you can find yours. When I learned there was a version of her--of you--here, I had to find out if you were with him too, and when you weren’t…” Henry trailed off, frowning at the ground. He was quiet for a long while, and Emma ran through his words over and over. Henry thought he knew who her True Love was? How? How could he know that his mother and whoever she was with were one another’s True Love?

“I know he’s here now--I’ve met him before, and back in my world--”

“What? Then how can he be my True Love if he’s from your world?” None of this was making sense, and for the first time she doubted Henry. It seemed he could see the uncertainty within her, and he steered them to a bench to sit and talk as he clarified this man was not from his world, but had been brought there by a curse. The same curse that separated Henry from his own family.

“I know you understand curses and magic,” he began and she nodded at his words. “So when I tell you he was swept up in a curse and brought back in time to my world, that should make sense, right?” She nodded again, wondering who could have cursed two men from different worlds at the same time. Someone powerful and dangerous. Henry sighed and continued. “His name is Killian Jones, and he’s the best man I know. He’s my father in every sense of the word, and while there’s a version of him who is my mother’s True Love, I know there is one who is also yours. He has to be.”

Henry told her a lengthy story about a witch who ensnared a group of people from this kingdom, trapping them in a place called Hyperion Heights. He spoke of a coven leader who cursed Killian Jones so he could never be in contact with his daughter—a child she had abandoned him with after tricking him into spending a night with her. “But you see, Emma, you can break that curse. Your love--yours and Killian’s will break that curse. You will have each other and Alice--hell, and Robin! I haven’t even told you about Robin,” he was lost in thought again after that. Emma waited and tried to make sense of all she had learned.

Is it possible? In some way, his tale made sense. If what he said about the curse was true, it would explain The Gap. Emma had never mentioned The Gap to Henry, though he may have learnt of it through other means. It was rarely spoken of, but everyone in the Enchanted Forest shared one simple truth: there was a block of time no one could account for. Whenever Emma or her parents tried to focus on that space, thinking back to her twenty-sixth birthday, there was a strange void where there should be at least some memory of the year. She could remember the celebratory ball and the night of her birthday, but every time she tried to focus on what came next it only earned her a persistent headache.

“Please don’t hate me, Emma,” Henry put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “I told him to meet me here three days after I arrived. That’s tonight. He’ll be here, and he knows what I believe about you two because he also knows my mother and her Killian. He’s, uh...not entirely convinced. He’s been through a lot, but…” He shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile.

“It’s his story to tell, so I won’t go into detail, just...go easy on the guy. He might be a little gun shy—uh, guarded,” he quickly clarified when he saw her blink in confusion. “I don’t think he’s seen anyone since that witch who duped him, led the coven, and tried to destroy Hyperion Heights. Think that might do a number on a guy.” He looked so sincere, so much like he did when telling all his other tales that Emma chose to believe. Henry hadn’t lied to her before, so what would the motivation be to do so now?

She chewed at her lip, fretting over what to do and how to greet someone who might be a part of her very soul--someone who had been through tricks and curses, and had suffered real loss. She couldn’t simply turn him out in the night, that was unthinkable, but what do you say to the other half of your heart? If that is what he is. This had to have been simpler for her mother. At least she’d simply caught her father in a net after robbing him. That seemed easier than calmly welcoming fate to dinner and introducing the man to your parents on day one.

“Well,” she got up and dusted off her breeches, “I suppose we’d best let my parents know we’re expecting another guest. And I may need to change as well. I think I’d rather not smell worse than the stables when I meet him.” Emma faltered on the last word, not knowing how to address Killian Jones. Henry smiled and followed her lead.

-----

One thorough and contemplative bath later, Emma emerged in a blush pink gown that shimmered softly in the waning sunlight. It had taken her three other dresses before she settled on this one. It was simpler than what she wore to galas and State events: tea length and embroidered in sheer flowers. She knew it would glow softly under the lights of the candles and torches at dinner, and Princess Emma Nolan found herself hoping he would like it.

When he arrived, it was Henry who greeted Killian Jones first, clasping the man’s hand and giving Emma a moment to simply observe. His smile was warm, a bright white flash of teeth and Emma noticed the slight creases at his eyes as well. An authentic smile, she noted, enjoying the genuine moment between the two men. He was dashing there was no other word for it--dressed in black and rich crimson, rings and charms gleaming in the firelight, their glimmer echoed in the silver strands that threaded here and there through his otherwise coal-black hair. Where his left hand ought to be, Emma found instead a polished silver hook and she remembered whispered gossip of a pirate captain referred to only by the moniker Hook. Once a fearsome leader of a brutal band of thieves, he had all but vanished into lore years ago. She realized too late that she’d been staring, and cleared her throat softly before curtseying to cover the awkwardness. Henry took the moment to introduce them, “Captain Killian Jones, may I present Emma Nolan, Princess of Misthaven.”

She offered her hand and Killian took it up, placing a chaste kiss across her knuckles. His eyes met hers, their brilliant lapis blue making her breath catch in her throat. Regardless of the formality of their meeting and the fact Henry, her parents, and several serving staff looked on, she felt the pull immediately. From the moment her hand was in his, it felt right. She wanted to keep hold of him more than she’d wanted anything in her life, wanted to memorize the rough calluses formed by his years at sea, but she forced herself to maintain propriety and brought her hand back to her side. Emma reminded herself they did not know one another, to not get swept up in Henry’s notions without evaluating the truth of the situation. Though she saw in his gaze a strange flicker of recognition, a brief knitting of his brow that asked a silent question she could not interpret, she let the moment pass and returned to her expected duties.

Emma introduced him to her parents, watching her father’s scrutinizing gaze contrast with her mother’s brilliant smile. No doubt her father was riddling out Henry’s purpose in inviting this man to dinner, though she couldn’t fathom him guessing the truth. All through dinner, Emma could barely take her eyes off Killian. He shared a few stories from his days at sea, talking of far-off kingdoms and uninhabited islands, and Emma felt a longing take hold of her as he spun a tale of a snow-covered northern kingdom where they carved elaborate ice sculptures, held firelight festivals, and celebrated the beauty of winter rather than fearing its chill. His voice was low, its velvet warmth wrapping around her and pulling her from all sense of time. The evening passed quickly, and long before she was ready, Emma’s parents stood to signal the end of the affair.

“It’s far too late for you to make a return journey, Captain Jones,” Queen Snow spoke. “We welcome you to stay as a guest in our home. We will have a room made up for you at once and hope you will accompany us for breakfast in the morning.” At his thanks, the Queen turned to Emma, “Oh, and Emma, darling?”

“Yes, Mother?”

Emma approached and her mother drew her in for a close hug, whispering softly, “See to it that Captain Jones can find his way. Most of the staff have already retired and I’d hate for him to get lost in search of rest.” With that, the Queen turned and gently tugged her husband toward their own chambers, leaving Emma to escort their two guests.

She could hear her father grumbling about leaving Emma unchaperoned, but Snow’s voice echoed back, “David, she’s twenty-eight, not sixteen, she’ll be fine. Our daughter is perfectly capable--” Their voices were lost as they rounded a corner, and Emma suppressed a smile. It didn’t matter that she was a full grown woman, her father would always be protective of her.

When she turned around, Emma realized Henry had vanished. Someone seems to think himself a matchmaker, she mused and as her eyes fell upon the man who waited by the fireplace she could understand why Henry had made himself scarce. Deep breath, Emma. He’s simply a man like any other. If she tried very hard, she just might convince herself of that. Well, unless she stopped to listen to the way her heart raced when the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile.

“Did you want--that is,” she faltered and tripped over her tongue, coming to stand near him where he leaned against the back of a chair by the hearth. “I don’t know how long a trip you made today, and so…” Why was this so hard?

“I’m quite alright, Princess. Would it be terribly inappropriate of me to ask you to keep me company and perhaps share a drink?” She smiled in response, slipping a large book from a shelf over the mantle after pointing out where her father kept a set of glasses on a shelf nearby.

“He thinks I don’t know about this,” she opened the volume to reveal a bottle. “Rum he had imported from the south--is that acceptable, Captain?”

“Aye, that will do nicely. Bit of a pirate in you isn’t there, Princess? Pinching a man’s rum while he’s fast asleep.” They shared a conspiratorial grin as she poured and each took up a chair near the fire. “To what shall we toast, love?”

She hummed in thought, considering the man before her. The pull was still there like some invisible thread entwining the two of them and she hoped it wasn’t only she who felt it. “To new beginnings,” she offered, holding her glass aloft. He echoed the sentiment and crystal clinked as their eyes met over the rims of their glasses before both looked away shyly and took a sip. The warmth and spice slid down her throat, settling in her stomach and making her shiver. They were quiet for a time, simply sharing the space while they glanced at one another, eyes never quite meeting, nor acknowledging they were both performing the same dance.

“I take it dear Henry shared his theory with you?” Killian broke the silence, addressing the weight that had settled in the room. She confirmed he had shared that along with several other stories, asking if it were true he’d been swept away to a land without magic. “Aye, and for some time I had no memory of myself or this place. When the truth finally came back to me it was...difficult to deal with. Did he...mention Alice?” He swirled the rum in his glass, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“Yes, he also mentioned a curse is keeping you apart,” she reached across the small distance that separated them, hand resting on the brace that held his hook. “Killian—if I may call you Killian,” she felt herself flush at the informality and he nodded encouragingly. She said it once more, feeling the musical quality of it as she continued. “What kind of monster keeps a father from his daughter like that?”

His shoulders sagged as he said the story of Gothel was one for another day, that it was a story filled with dark shadows he dare not conjure without the sunlight to dispel them. “I only mention Alice because...well, given what Henry has told both of us I have been...” his brow furrowed as he searched for a word, and she leaned forward, absently running her hand over his sleeve and feeling where the firm leather of his brace ended and the warmth of his arm began. His gaze dropped to where her hand rested and she looked up, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Concerned,” he finished at last. “That is, I’d thought perhaps because I have a child with someone else, and because I am obviously older than you are, that you might feel...or not feel a certain…not that I think Henry is necessarily right…”

His words tapered off and she became very aware they were both leaning in now, the distance between them nearly closed. She could see the silver in his hair glinting in the firelight, the strands at his temples more greyed than the rest. Greedily, she took in all she could in this moment. The heat that radiated from where her hand still rested atop his arm, the scents of leather and petrichor that clung to him were so close she could nearly roll them on her tongue. When she searched his eyes she saw a lingering hurt, but behind that was what appeared to be cautious hope. Setting her glass aside, Emma brought her hand up, allowing herself to do what she’d been wanting to all evening and running her fingers through his hair. He held her gaze, eyes wide and uncertain and she realized his past hurts ran deep enough that he wouldn’t act on that hopeful glint she’d seen moments ago. She would have to be brave for both of them.

With a whisper of his name she closed what little distance remained between them. She’d intended a light brush of her lips, had simply wanted to know what may lie between them, but the moment their lips met Emma knew she would never be satisfied with so little. She poured herself into the moment, moving to grip the front of his shirt and pull him tightly to her. He followed her lead, their kiss deepening as he tilted his head, the two of them moving as though they had done this a hundred times before. She heard her pulse pounding away in her head, felt his breath ghosting over her lips as they breathed into one another for a moment before he captured her lips again. Something shifted then, like the single beat of a massive heart, a shockwave rippled outward, though neither could be bothered to break this moment. Finally, the two pulled back, eyes searching one another.

“Was that?” Emma asked, not knowing how to complete the thought. Her parents had told her their story several times: the kiss that broke the curse. The kiss that radiated out from them in a burst of force and light. The kiss that sounded an awful lot like what she had just shared with Captain Killian Jones.

Killian rested his forehead against hers, breathing out slowly before replying in a soft voice, “Aye love, I think it may have been.” She asked how that was possible, neither naming it yet and both quaffing their rum before leaning back in their chairs. “Years ago,” he began, “I ran into a fortune teller on the docks. He told me I would find my happiness though it was presently locked away in a tall tower. So, when the time came and I found myself facing a witch and finding a woman locked away in a tower I had thought my moment had come. Instead, I found Gothel and her tricks. I brought a daughter into this world only to have her freedom snatched away by the cold-hearted woman who bore her.”

Emma watched him closely, he seemed far away and lost in another time. “Tonight,” he continued after several beats, “when I saw the westward tower of this castle I had to stifle my hope that perhaps after so long--what is that tower to you?” He leaned toward her suddenly, his sapphire eyes searching hers as though he could read the truth within them.

“My bedroom,” she admitted. “My parents thought it would keep me safe. With only one known entrance and exit, it was easy to post guards and easy to know who sought my attention. Of course, there is another exit, but no one other than me knows of it. I devised it when I was sixteen and desperately wanted a way out without the entourage of guards.”

He fell silent, his forehead creased in thought as he tapped a finger against the bow of his lips. The mantle clock’s rhythmic ticking was nearly deafening as Emma waited through each drawn out second. Mesmerized by the path he now traced along his bottom lip, her mind drifted back to the soft press of his mouth against hers and she wished fervently to undo whatever had him so lost in his own thoughts. Come back to me, Killian, she sighed aloud and he snapped to attention. “My apologies, love. I believe I may be in need of rest.” His explanation rang hollow and she leveled a gaze at him, knowing this wasn’t the full truth.

“I swear to you, Princess, I will make my theories known. I do not intend to hide anything from you.” He stood then, stretching languidly before offering his arm and waiting for her to rise. She acquiesced if only for the chance to feel the warmth of him once more before she retired for the night. She tried to stifle her yawn behind her hand and heard him chuckle low in response. “It seems I may not be the only one in need of sleep. Lead the way, love.”

She led him to one of the guest rooms not far from Henry’s. As she bid him goodnight, Killian leaned down to brush a featherlight kiss across her lips, wishing her sweet dreams. Emma felt as though she floated on air the whole way up to her room, content to leave him to his musings tonight and trusting he would speak his mind soon enough.

----- The morning saw Emma waking earlier than usual, calling a chipper “Good morning” to her sleep-rumpled lady’s maid before dismissing her and attending to her own routine. Still abed at this hour? It seems dear Tink has been keeping late hours herself. She let herself ponder whose affections might be persuading the spunky blonde to be less than punctual, smiling at her reflection as she brushed out her golden tresses.

Once ready, Emma hummed to herself, making her way down the innumerable stairs in search of breakfast, her parents, and Killian--the thought made her grin. His sudden shift into contemplativeness notwithstanding, he had been the perfect gentleman last night. Thoughtful in their discussion at dinner, genuine and curious without overstepping, and then there was the kiss. She flushed, pausing before the dining room doors to gather her thoughts and put on what she hoped was a soft smile rather than the doe-eyed look she’d undoubtedly been wearing since she woke.

Her parents, Henry, and Killian were already seated when she entered--the latter both rising and inclining their heads in deference. “Good morning, Princess,” they intoned in unison. She laughed, insisting they sit and continue the conversation she had interrupted, taking her place at her father’s right hand and quietly thanking the servingman who filled her cup with coffee and cream.

“Killian, you were asking about the tower, yes?” Queen Snow offered an encouraging half-smile before sipping demurely at her tea. At this, Emma heard her father mutter under his breath about the Captain inquiring about his daughter’s bedroom.

“Yes. You see, Your Majesty, I can’t help but notice it is nearly identical--from the outside,” he clarified at her father’s rapidly reddening face, “to one I encountered years ago. That particular structure was the residence of a rather powerful witch.”

“Gothel,” her father spat, and all eyes shifted to him. Emma saw Killian’s jaw clench at the name and he gave a single, curt nod in affirmation.

With her mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, her father began the story she’d heard many times over the course of her life. The story of how Gothel heard the regents were expecting and deduced there would be a child born of the most powerful magic in all realms: True Love. That she knew as well that child would have light magic, and that even if it never manifested there would be power in their blood. It was the story of why Emma’s parent’s fortified their home so heavily once word of Gothel’s covetous wish reached them, and why they insisted she train with sword and bow.

“It’s why my little girl was taught to ride like a soldier and not a courtier. Hell, it’s why I gave into her frankly dangerous wishes and allowed her to learn to sail--in case she needed to escape quickly.”

“Does it help to know Gothel can’t harm anyone anymore?” Henry offered helpfully, trying to lighten the weight that had settled on the group. There was general agreement at the table that, yes, it did help. Quite a lot, in fact, and it felt as though the sun broke out from beneath the clouds as they returned to their breakfast.

“Is that what you were concerned about, Captain?” Emma caught herself in time and used his title, not yet ready to have that discussion with her parents.

“The thought had crossed my mind, Princess, but it seems your own construction must have inspired hers for some reason.” He dismissed the thought, though she could practically hear the gears of his mind grinding away. The conversation returned to banal pleasantries about the weather and what game was in season. Her father consulted Killian on the conditions at sea, and in general the rest of the meal was like any other. Like any other meal you share with your family, a new friend, and the man you just shared True Love’s Kiss with less than eight hours after meeting him. Perfectly normal. Emma put on her court smile and commented politely, waiting for her moment to pounce.

“Join me for a walk in the gardens, Captain?” The moment arrived after a lengthy debate about the benefits of traveling by horse in comparison to ship. Thank the gods for the momentary lull as her father’s cup was refilled yet again - Emma didn’t think there was enough coffee in the whole of Misthaven to keep her alert on this topic.

“Of course, Princess.” He smiled bashfully, running his hand through his hair and standing as she rose. “May I?” He offered his arm and she accepted, the two making a long overdue exit.

The grass was still damp as they walked the grounds, the morning sun hinting at a warm day to come despite the slight chill that had Emma leaning in close, basking in the warm line of contact with Killian. “So, what was it you held back up there?” She broke the silence and watched the arch of his brow as he glanced at her. “I’ve always known when people are dishonest, or not fully honest in this case,” she explained. “It’s a feeling, sort of like a rock settling into my stomach. I don’t know if it’s part of my magic or something else,” she shrugged at this and watched his expression shift from curiosity to contemplation. No doubt he was thinking up a way to explain whatever was plaguing his mind.

He remained in that state as they passed her mother’s bed of crimson roses and all the way through the lilies that always made her nose twitch, their heady scent overpowering. Spotting the bench she and Henry had sat on—was that only yesterday?—she took the lead, turning to face him as they sat.

“There are some strange coincidences,” he began. Their knees brushed and she leaned into the contact, hoping her touch might ground him in the present. His past included darkness, and here in the bright morning sun amongst the flowers she hoped to keep those grim memories at bay.

“The tower is the first of them, and I’ve no idea which came first. Given Gothel’s numerous deceits, I’m not inclined to believe any of her tales nor any of Belfry’s—the woman who claimed to be the missing princess, Rapunzel,” he clarified when he saw her puzzled look. “Did you know the witch?”

She shook her head, “Only what my parents told me: that she was interested in my magic and had a reputation for taking what she desired by force.” He expressed clear agreement, and when his focus became distant Emma took hold of both hand and hook. “Whatever it is, that doesn’t change who we are to one another, Killian.”

That must have heartened him, for it earned her a gentle smile. “Aye, love, I suppose you’re right. You see, the other strangeness was Gothel’s impersonation. I’ve never given it much thought, but why should she play at being a princess? I’d no notion who the woman was, yet she changed her appearance, her voice, her name. Why?” He hypothesized then that either Gothel bribed the fortune-teller, planting the man in Killian’s path with a bogus story about happiness in a tower, or that she somehow knew Emma would be important and hedged her bets by occupying her own tower and putting herself in Killian’s path.

“You see, I’ve considered the strangeness of these overlaps and in part I wonder if one of the gifts she or a fellow witch of her coven acquired was prophecy. She seemed to know far more than anyone ought to, and perhaps thought to entrap me and use me to get to you.

“If she knew we were, uh,” he gulped, and flushed a charming shade of pink all the way to his ears. “Destined for one another, then it would be well within her character to exploit that. To make me think she could lead me to my happiness, then snatch you away for her own nefarious purposes. As well, I’m starting to suspect the unaccounted year the townsfolk allude to may well have been a longer span of time than any of you realize.”

It made sense in a way, and while they couldn’t be certain of Gothel’s intentions, Emma was definitely grateful the woman was gone and could do them no further harm. As far as The Gap was concerned, she supposed there was no real way of knowing how much time had passed, only that it seemed like a year. Had she slept as Aurora once had? Every answer seemed to lead to more questions, but Emma resolved herself to focusing on what mattered most first: reuniting Killian with his Alice.

“Despite her purposes, Killian, whatever they may have been,” she reached up and cupped his cheek. His eyes were blue as the sea and she let herself fall into their depths as she brought him back to the present. “Last night, Killian, True Love’s Kiss is potent magic and I think—I’m almost certain, actually—that we broke your curse. We can find Alice, and you can finally hold your daughter in your arms again.”

“We?” He grinned at her, nuzzling against her hand before turning to kiss her palm. “Then you’ll accompany me, love?”

“Of course! I know we’ve only just met, but I think it’s more than obvious how I feel about you given the fact we broke a witch’s curse with our first kiss.” They shared a laugh, shifting so she could rest her head against his shoulder as he draped his arm around her.

“She’s a bit different, my Alice,” he cautioned.

“And we aren’t?” she challenged. “Tonight at dinner, let me handle my parents. We’ll tell them what happened and make plans to seek out Alice. Henry said she’s with someone called Robin—does that name mean anything to you?”

“Aye, that’s Alice’s love. I know where to find them.”

“Then that’s our next course. Reuniting you with your daughter is the first step toward, well, I guess…” she paused, pulling back to meet his gaze again. “I guess toward becoming a family, right? I mean, my parents will have questions and all things considered, I guess we have other planning we’ll need to do in the future, but—“ he cut off her monologue with a kiss. It was sweet and slow, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips on his. His tongue flirted with her bottom lip and she twined her fingers in his hair.

Pulling back to meet her eyes, Killian smiled. “I love you, Princess Emma Nolan,” he whispered.

She felt warm all the way to her toes, grinning as she replied, “I love you, Captain Killian Jones.” The two shared a lingering kiss, the spell suddenly broken by a loud whoop of excitement.

“I told you both!” Henry hollered, emerging from his hiding place behind a large oak tree and performing some bizarre dance Emma had never seen. The three laughed, Henry congratulating them on their newly blossoming relationship while Emma and Killian thanked him for the unlooked-for but welcome help.

“What can I say except: you’re welcome.” His smile was bright at the sun and he slung an arm over both their shoulders, walking between them as the three returned to the house and, for Emma and Killian, toward the start of a new life together.

Tagging the usual suspects: @kmomof4, @teamhook, @veryverynotgood, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @laschatzi, @donteattheappleshook, @lonelyspectator12, @the-darkdragonfly, @zaharadessert, @winterbaby89, @jrob64, @wefoundloveunderthelight, @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @superchocovian, @monosalvatore16, @snowbellewells, @batana54

[elizabeethan]

Find Strength in Pain, Find Strength in Me- 1/3 (I Think)

After defeating the wraith, Emma Swan is dragged through the portal they sent it through and suddenly finds herself in the land in which she should have grown up. Lost, overwhelmed, and desperate to get home to her son, she accepts help from the gruesome pirate Captain Hook— and his accomplice. 

A Season 2 AU in which Emma ends up the the Enchanted Forest alone, and she and Hook (try to) work together to get to the Land Without Magic.

There are very brief descriptions of near-drowning at the very beginning of this, so if that’s troubling for you, skip the first couple of paragraphs

This fic is all @donteattheappleshook​'s fault. she also beta'd it, so it would be nothing without her. I think it will have 3 parts but you know... we'll see

Rated T (for now)

Also Available on Ao3

Read my other stuff

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything  @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook@therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​

Part 1

The frigid salt water burns her throat and nose, choking her as she struggles to differentiate up from down through the blackness surrounding her. The sudden change in scenery is jolting. Just a second ago she was in Town Hall, and now she finds herself drowning and struggling against the crashing waves. 

The irrational part of her, the part that hasn’t recognized how close she could be to death, wonders where she is, where she’s ended up. But a larger, more frightened part of her panics, paddling her arms as forcefully as she can against the strong current that continues to pull her beneath the swell of the water. 

She crests over the surface once more, struggling to take in a breath before being assaulted by another crashing wave, her lungs filling with abrasive water as she begins to feel herself slipping out of consciousness. It can’t end like this, she thinks desperately, trying to fight against the warmth she feels threatening her. It would be so easy to give up and let the warm feeling take her. Her body can only take so much more abuse.

She shakes these thoughts of giving up from her mind. Once more, she tries to find the surface so that she can take a breath, but before she can, she takes in more salt water.  

Not like this. 

She’s fading fast, blackness taking over her vision far too quickly, before she feels a heavy, rough weight thumping against her and circling her arms. As if by second nature, she grabs into the object, unsure of whether it’s a rope or a piece of seaweed, and clings for dear life. It’s her lifeline, or perhaps a security blanket to ease her fears as she succumbs to the death that seems all too impending. 

Hugging the thick and heavy object close to her chest, she feels it tugging her against the strong current until she’s out of the waves, the cold air welcome against her hot and freezing flesh. A pair of rough hands grab her beneath her arms and hoists until she’s tossed to the ground. 

“Good girl,” she hears from above as she coughs violently. The velvet voice is almost enough to distract her from the fire in her throat. “Get the sea out of your lungs.” 

“Who are you?” she rasps, shaking suddenly against the freezing air. 

“The name is Hook. Captain Hook. Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, my dear.” 

Panting, she collapses against the aged deck of the ship she’s found herself on, letting her cheek rest against the wood as she finally succumbs and fades into unconsciousness. 

~~~~ 

“She can’t very well eat a meal while she’s asleep, can she, Mr. Smee?”

“N-no, Captain. Of course not, Sir. I merely thought that if the lass were to wake sometime soon, she’d likely be famished.” 

“Aye, I’d imagine she would be. But I suppose we won’t know until she wakes, will we?” 

“Certainly, Sir. It’s just that she’s been asleep for a day, and I thought she may want sustenance.”

“And have you become a mind-reader overnight, Mr. Smee? Are you able to predict when she’ll wake?” 

“Of course not, Sir.” 

“No need to waste food on a sleeping damsel, then. Save it for the crew until we know she needs it.” 

“Aye aye, Captain.” 

She lets herself shift on the small, firm mattress, rolling to one side and groaning at the throbbing behind her eyes once the voices quiet and she hears a door latching shut. The moment she makes a sound, her lungs protest and she’s coughing again. 

“Ah, she lives,” she hears, and she starts in surprise, grabbing for the thick quilt that covers her and pulling it up to her chin. “Worry not, love, for I am a man of honor. I shan’t look if you’d prefer I didn’t.” 

“Who the hell are you?” she rasps, coughing some more. “Where am I?” She’s so disoriented from her experience and the resulting headache that she can hardly tell what sort of space she’s in.

“My dear,” he chuckles. “We’ve had this conversation already. Call me Hook; I’m captain of this fine vessel. You find yourself aboard the Jolly Roger.” He knocks a metal appendage against the wall of the cabin, smiling pridefully.

“The hell is that?” she asks in confusion, unable to stop the venom from lacing her voice. Then she realizes what she saw him do, looks at his arm, and notes that there’s an actual hook where a hand should be. “Wait… did you say… Hook?”

He smirks, raising a brow in such a dramatic way that Emma can hardly believe him to be real. In fact, she must be in some limbo between life and death, because there is no possible way that she’s in the presence of the Captain Hook. She doesn’t remember the damn Disney character looking like that. 

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he quips playfully.

In an attempt to make sense of the situation she’s in, she changes the subject, unable to give any more mental energy to something so far from possible. “Just—” She coughs once more. “Tell me where I am. I fell… I mean…” She’s certain her words aren’t making sense. She can’t very well tell this stranger the truth, that she was sent here by magic, despite the fact that he seems to think himself a fairytale character. 

“You wish to know what land you’re in?”

“Yes.” 

“You’re in Misthaven, love. Some call it the Enchanted Forest.” 

She groans. The Enchanted Forest. That’s where her parents are from; where she was supposed to grow up. How the hell did she find her way here? (And seriously, did she have to land in the middle of the ocean?)

“Well I need to get home,” she insists firmly, sitting up and pulling the quilt tighter to herself. Her clothes have been removed, likely due to them being completely soaked, and she finds herself in only her underwear and a thin, black linen slip, trying not to think about who put her in it. “And I’d like my clothes back.” 

He hums, pushing himself off of the table he was leaning against and walking towards the door. “I’m sure you would. Peculiar outfit you were donning, love. Where, pray tell, might one find such clothing?” 

She gives him an indignant look, raising a brow and reaching a hand palms up towards him expectantly. He chuckles, then exits the room to leave her alone and confused. 

She looks around the space curiously, noting the windows to her left overlooking the sea that almost claimed her. There’s a table with four leather-bound chairs, the surface decorated with a candelabra and a strange looking navigation tool. Shelving along the windows is covered in maps and books and strewn-about pages. There’s a chest in the corner, tucked away in a way that makes her curious. She’s about to stand and explore, but the door opens once more and the confident captain swaggers back in. 

“There we are, lass,” he says, passing her neatly-folded clothes to her with a cocky smile. “It seems we both have an affinity towards leather, aye? I do enjoy the deep red, very… sensuous.” The smirk on his face is somewhat unnerving. The depth with which he stares her down makes her squirm, but she thinks that’s exactly his goal so she schools her features, dedicated to not giving him any satisfaction. 

“Some privacy, please?” she asks, although it’s not as if she’ll be taking no for an answer. 

“If the lady insists,” he concedes, continuing to smirk at her as he bows dramatically, his coat sweeping the ground as he sinks- but he still doesn’t leave.

“She does,” Emma says slowly, raising her brows and nodding towards the door. 

“Tough lass,” he chuckles, stepping away from her. “Very well, love, I’ll give you a bit of privacy. But when I get back, you and I are going to have a little chat.”

“Can’t wait,” she mumbles. 

Once he’s finally gone, she can do what she’s been wanting to and explore her surroundings, taking in all of the information about him she can before he returns. She hops into her jeans quickly, nearly dropping to the ground as she does, but determined to find something she can use on him in case he threatens her somehow. Tossing her shirt over her head and dropping the too-sheer fabric to the ground, she scours the room as quickly and silently as she can, opening books and shoving loose pages aside as she moves along the shelving. She finally gets to the chest and opens it up, finding a small, aged piece of parchment resting on top of its contents, as if it was placed there carefully and with loving respect. 

She hums, removing it from the chest to observe the detailed sketch, noting the subject’s beauty— her thick curls and her kind eyes— and the doting way the parchment is placed in the chest, as if being hidden and placed on display all at once. She wonders what else this pirate has up his sleeves based on the care he’s used to store this work of art. She wonders where this woman could be; who she could be. 

As she ponders the sketch, the ship rocks and the glimmer of sunlight against metal catches her attention. She glances down and sees exactly what she needs: a small, sharp dagger. Perfect. 

She hears the footsteps approaching and jumps, rushing to pick up her jacket and hoist it over her shoulders, hiding the short blade in her sleeve as the door swings open immediately after a soft knock. “Decent, love?” he asks as he pushes through holding a small plate. 

She answers affirmatively, although it doesn't seem to matter because he’s in the room before she could’ve stopped him. He hands her the plate with a smirk that she doesn’t think ever leaves his face and walks around her to take a seat in a chair. He gestures in front of him-- though she’s unsure if it’s towards the small mattress she slept on or a chair before him-- and commands, “sit.” 

She pinches her brows together suspiciously but listens, choosing to step back and sink onto the surface of the mattress. “What the hell is this?” she asks once she looks down at the contents of the plate he handed her. 

“Hardtack and salted meat, love. What’s wrong, would you have preferred gruel?” 

Glancing back down and the bland, overly beige food, she makes a face of disgust and takes a bite of the dry-looking biscuit she desperately wishes was a strawberry Poptart. She feels the crumbs drying her mouth and throat and she begins to cough again. 

He shakes his head and tsks, taking out a small flask and walking towards her to press it to her lips. She takes it from him with force and tosses it back, sputtering again at the burn as the liquid sides down her throat. “Are you trying to torture me?” she demands as she pushes him away. “Don’t you have water?”

With another smirk, he says, “torture, you say? Well, you are my prisoner. Perhaps that’s not a bad idea.” 

“Water?” 

“All we have is grog, and I’m afraid you wouldn’t like it much more than the rum.” 

Picking up the strange, rigid meat by one end, her face sours at the thought of eating jerky offered to her by a pirate who probably hasn't seen land in months and likely doesn't know much of meat preservation. But she’s starving, having apparently been unconscious for a while, and she can’t resist. “Anything’s better than the lava you just forced down my throat,” she says around the salty food. 

“Very well,” he concedes, then shouts, “Smee!” 

She jumps just slightly, noting the barely-there ringing in her ears as her head throbs as a plump, stocky man enters the room. “Aye, Cap’n?” 

“Fetch the young lady some grog, if you please.”

The man nods once, scurrying from the room. The Captain scans the cabin while he’s gone, taking note of the shirt she left on the floor and narrowing his eyes. “I keep a tight ship, lass,” he chastises. 

She almost wonders if she should be worried as his gaze reaches hers, hot and angry at the sight of the small mess she left behind. But the man returns with a goblet, handing it to her with a shaky grip and stepping backwards. “Anything else, Sir?”

“That’ll be all, Mr. Smee. Ensure we aren’t bothered.” His tone is bordering on threatening and her pulse quickens in her veins.

He nods and slinks out of the room once more, latching the door behind him. She looks down at the large cup that was proffered to her and doesn’t think it’ll be much better than his rum, as he tried to warn her, but chances it and takes a sip. 

It’s awful, completely disgusting, but it’s all she has and it doesn’t burn quite as much as the rum had. She makes a sound of disgust, sticking her tongue out and reaching for the jerky again in hopes of getting the taste out of her mouth. 

“Quite dramatic,” he remarks, and she realizes he’s been studying her with a pensive look on his face, right eyebrow never dropping.

“It’s terrible.”

“Water that sits stagnant tends to collect green slime, which I can assure you tastes far worse than that.”

“So instead you add poison to it?” 

He guffaws, tossing his head back and pressing his hand to his middle. “A bit of alcohol is hardly poison, love.”

The meat actually doesn't taste too bad, but it’s so salty and dry that she has to pinch her nose and take another swig of his poison water. 

“Now,” he starts, still staring at her intently. “What’s your name, love?”

She rolls her eyes, mumbling around the jerked meat. “It isn’t love.” 

His eyes narrow and he leans his arms against the table, cocking his head as he says, “understand this: you’d be dead in the water, quite literally, if not for my men fishing you out of the sea. I’ve fed you, dressed you… I’ve kept you alive all this time warding off fever. I owe you nothing. And you’d do well to remember that as an obligatory passenger on my ship.” She sits quietly as if she was scolded by a teacher, biting her lip and looking back down at her food for one more helping. “Your name,” he demands again. 

“Emma,” she grumbles. “Emma Swan.” 

“Well, Swan, pleased to meet you.” 

She gives him a small smile, because she somewhat doubts that but doesn’t think it a good idea to anger him any more than she apparently already has, and nods in return. “Likewise. And… thank you.” 

As he breathes out a chuckle, he says, “if I had to guess, I’d say that statement is rare to leave your lips, darling.” 

She rolls her eyes again. “Well, you’re right. You and your crew saved my life.” He nods in acknowledgement of her thanks. “Hey, who changed me anyway?” 

He laughs awkwardly. “Ah, do you not recall? You were quite fiery indeed, swatting my hand away. I assure you, I neither saw nor touched anything. But I couldn’t leave you in those cold, soaked… clothes,” he says, giving her a suspicious look as he takes in her outfit, apparently foreign to him and to this land. “You were close to catching your death from the cold, but you absolutely refused to let me take off… everything.” With a blush, she breathes out an irritated laugh, unsure of how to react to the fact that this man has apparently seen much more of her than she would have hoped. “I must admit, while the entire ensemble is quite unfamiliar to me, I was particularly perplexed by whatever tiny bit of fabric was covering up your—”

“Okay,” she cuts him off, putting the plate down on the mattress, noting his eyes trailing far too low. “We don’t need to talk about my… tiny fabric.” 

With a chuckle, he sits back in his chair once more and nods in agreement. “Very well, lass. Now it’s your turn to answer another question for me.” 

“Fine.” 

“What the bloody hell were you doing in the middle of the ocean? We’re a good two or three day’s ride from shore.” 

She inhales deeply, unsure of what she should tell this stranger. He’s right, of course. He could have left her to die in the water, could have let her succumb to the hypothermia she was likely suffering from. But he didn’t. Instead, he helped her. He himself removed her soaked clothing rather than pawning her off on his potentially touch-starved crew, affirming to her that he hadn’t violated her in any way despite her precarious position. He fed and watered her. He made sure she was warm and comfortable and safe. And, if she’s in the Enchanted Forest, or just outside of it, she can assume he knows something of the magic that brought her here. 

“I fell through a… portal,” she finally admits timidly. 

His eyes narrow in suspicion and he leans forward again, eyes making intense contact with her own. “A portal?” he clarifies. 

“Yes.” 

“How did you come across this portal?” 

She shrugs. “A magic hat, I guess.” She wonders if he thinks she’s mad based on the manic look in his eyes. “And I need to get back.” 

“Aye, I would imagine you do.” He sits back once more, still eyeing her with trepidation. “Tell me, then, from what land were you dragged through this portal?” 

“No, I get to ask a question now,” she says boldly, almost childishly, despite the fact that he has only just scolded her for her attitude towards him. 

Narrowing his eyes, he concedes and waves his hand before himself. “Very well.” 

“What’s your name?”

His confidence seems to waiver as he considers her inquiry, cocking his head to the side and eyeing her up and down before he comes to a decision. “Killian,” he says hesitantly. Then “Killian Jones,” with more grandeur. It isn’t lost on her that he chooses not to include his title, his claim to power. “Now, your turn. From whence did you fall, Emma Swan?” 

“Um,” she starts, unsure of how to answer since she was never given any sort of guidebook to the names of all the magical realms. Thinking back to what her parents had called it, she answers, “I guess you would know it as the Land Without Magic.” 

He stands suddenly, forcefully moving his chair back and stepping towards her in haste so that she backs away from him on the bed. Once he’s close enough to lean over her, she gulps, letting the small blade slip down her sleeve so she can hold the handle tightly. “Did you say the Land Without Magic?” he asks forcefully, his face inches from her own. 

“Yes,” she whispers back. “That’s where I live; I need to get back there.” 

His eyes stare into hers with such intensity that it makes her skin crawl. After a moment, he schools his features and backs away slightly. “Well,” he says as he rights his blouse. “Then I offer my ship and my services.” 

She drops her jaw, stunned, and utters, “what?” 

He nods, making his way back to his desk and taking a seat once again. “I need to get there as well. It would likely be more efficient if we worked together.” 

With her eyes narrowing, she stands, tucking the handle of the short dagger back up under her sleeve, and walks around the table so that she’s standing closer to him, looking out the window. He remains still, apparently not fazed by her movements. “Why would you need to get to the Land Without Magic?”

She can’t see his face, standing behind him now with their backs to each other, but she can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.” 

She spins, facing him as a thought pops into her mind. This man is a pirate sailing through her parents’ kingdom. Though she knows little about this place, and about pirates in general, she does know that a pirate and a king do not get along. The curse swept up everyone in this realm, and his desire to get to the place where Misthaven’s royalty now reside can’t be a coincidence. 

With these thoughts in mind, she lets the blade slip out of her sleeve and grabs him by the hair, holding the dagger up to his neck as he struggles in surprise. “I don’t believe you. What’s in it for you?” 

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he stutters. 

“Do you know who I am? Tell me why you really want to get to my home.” 

He gasps against the sharp metal, trying to pull away, and answers, “to exact vengeance on the man who took my hand.” 

She glances down and notes the hook once more, something she’s been trying to ignore because the idea that this man is Captain Hook is too hard to swallow. She lets him go, dropping the blade from his flesh and backing away. Letting out a breath, he relaxes back in his chair again. “Just who are you, Swan?” he asks playfully, practically waggling his brows as he rubs his neck. Apparently, he finds it more important to flirt with her than to worry about the fact that she just threatened his life. 

Yeah, she shouldn’t have let that one slip. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Perhaps I would.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Listen, I need to get home to my son,” she says honestly. “I don’t have any more time to waste; the longer I’m gone, the worse things could get for him.” 

He smirks. “You have a son?” he asks, sweeping his gaze pointedly along her body. She shoves away from him and pulls her jacket tight to her torso. “No need to fret, love, we’ll get you home.”

“I’m not fretting,” she snaps, though she continues to hug her arms around herself.

Noting her evident discomfort, he continues on casually as if to assure her that what she seeks is possible. “I have arranged transport with someone, but her company is a bit… well, it makes me uneasy,” he says with an awkward smile. “She also doesn’t exactly know where this land is, what with the lack of magic and all, so having you as a guide may prove useful in her eyes. Plus, if you and I team up, we can overthrow her, should the need arise.” 

With a scoff, she says, “great, I can’t wait to work with someone I should plan to overthrow.” 

“Worry not, love. She’s naught but fervidly motivated. You see, she needs to get to her child as well, a daughter.” 

“Really?” That peaks her interest and she moves around the table to sit in a chair facing him. “Who is she?”

“Her name’s Cora,” he answers casually. Pursing her lips, Emma tries to recall if she knows anyone in town with that name, but she thinks not. Although, she didn’t have long to learn everyone’s un-cursed personas, so it’s entirely possible that this woman’s daughter, Cora, is someone she already knows.

“And who is this man you’re trying to… exact revenge on?” she asks, repeating his dramatic words. 

“He’s known well as the Dark One, but also as Rumplestiltskin.” 

“The Dark One?” 

“Aye, I take it you know of him?”

“I do, but how could you possibly kill him? Isn’t he supposed to have, like, the most powerful magic ever?”

He chuckles. “Very eloquent, darling. And yes, he is, which is why I must travel to the Land Without Magic. So I can best him fair and square.” 

She should tell him, right? She should be honest about the fact that the Land Without Magic does, in fact, have magic now that the curse has broken. About the fact that, if he’s putting all of his eggs in this metaphorical basket, he’s doomed to lose. 

She almost feels bad for this man. She knows he’s likely violent and dishonorable, but he’s right in that he’s been nothing but caring and helpful to her. A part of her almost trusts his kind, menacing eyes. And now, he’s offered her help getting home. He may be her only chance to get back to Henry; to keep him safe from Regina. 

So she stays silent, nodding in agreement, assuring him that his plan to kill the Dark One using only his skills in swordsmanship is foolproof. 

Guilt settles in instantly, churning her stomach in response to his obvious excitement at the prospect of having a chance to exact his revenge. 

But she needs to get home. 

~~~~

~~~~

[mcytbdamofficial]

A strange question. If the official DSMP lore of (a) character/s ever heavily changes from what you wrote it as (in example, if c!Velvet turns out to be long dead or the velvetisegg theory is true, or any of the major characters- that their canon lore starts being majorily different), how do you come up with things that would make them "fit in" again? I am just genuiely curious about that

usually a good way to go around things like that is to fall back on what i've already established and try to spin it in the right way. a good thing to use is the nether lore as well as everything with the memories - things like that are unpredictable and pretty much anything can come to light at any point.

(this answer went on for a while longer than i expected so i’ll put it under the cut in case there’s someone scrollin who doesn’t want this whole thing clogging up their dash)

a good example would be the sbi family canon - when phil first shouted the words "you're my son!" a lot of people instantly thought that techno, wilbur and tommy being his sons had been basically canonized (obviously this got debunked later with only wilbur being his son, but at the time that was the canon i went with and had to somehow push in). until a part of the story i wasn't planning to make the sbi family canon, so i had to think of something fast. so i considered how phil, for whatever reason, supported techno's reign during the antarctic empire days. why did he just outright follow him when his acts were universally regarded as evil? initial ideas were he, himself, was rather bloodthirsty, but this new issue came around and i used this blank in the story as a way to explain it - of COURSE phil would support techno unconditionally, he's his son, after all. later on, i managed to strike a balance in the story between phil supporting techno because of them being family, as well as him, himself, having his own agenda in the empire itself (bringing along the bloodthirsty nature of techno, which in turn i later explained with the voices, once those were canonized. that solution to a new canon was practically handed to me, with how i wrote the bloodlust as a voice beforehand. i just had to change it to “voices”).

for your example, i have one idea that could work! if velvet turns out long dead, i could quickly explain it in a simple way. ant WAS getting letters from velvet, but at one point they stopped and he received news velvet had died. ant has been lying about getting letters after some point because he didn't want other people who knew him to get hurt, and maybe he's even in a certain level of denial.

if velvet IS the egg, that could be more complicated, but still doable. tie it all into the source/nether lore, make him some sort of god or symbol of chaos, just play around with the rules of my own world until things fall into place. usually, somehow, i will find a way out just by stepping back and analysing what i already have prepared and thinking of how it can help me insert a new idea into the story without disturbing what's already there. 

this is basically how wilbur being a source came into fruition! initial ideas were him and schlatt decided themselves to not enter the bunker and escape the flood on their own, but how would that make sense? oh yeah, what if one of them IS the flood? then i rewatch the video, and who other than wilbur is putting the commands in to make the water rise! it was too perfect not to somehow include it, yknow? and then boom, i have this cool lore about sources. why not use it? and yes, initially sources were JUST gonna be a passing mention in the captain’s journal. they weren’t ever planned to go this far. and before you know it we have wilbur, kristin, foolish, hannah...

so yeah. what i’m saying is. when in doubt, use nether lore. and that’s how i’ll go around whatever comes of the egg, in the end.

a lot of it also comes down to very careful storytelling and knowing what to change and what to leave alone. when the story started there was a set amount of people that i knew were involved in the roleplay and others i knew would NEVER get involved (keep in mind the story started being written before even the festival happened live, HELL, even villbur wasn't a thing back then), and separated them into small groups based on what i could and what i couldn't play around with. for example;

i could easily change callahan, alyssa, etc around... they're people who barely appear who aren't involved in the storyline. i gave them small appearances to show they're there and mostly kept them to the back.

people who i KNOW will never join the smp can be mentioned, referenced or even included! minx is probably the prime example of this. and if she ever DOES join the smp, by some magical chance? there can always be some magical book in the library that can reverse her from a dreamon to a human. so nothing to worry about there.

future major characters like dream, quackity, niki, etc didn't have much at the start but needed something to push them into their future arcs. in these characters i changed their start but made sure it left space to be moulded into anything they become later - i made niki kind but i also showed her early critisism of wilbur, already sensing she may have a villian arc coming in the future. when season 2 came around, i was proved right so i went in on those small hints more and more.

for characters who have an established arc, start to finish, who it's hard to change in any way, i change nothing - but i look at their past. the obvious people for this are schlatt and wilbur. on the smp they were characters start to finish, their arcs started and ended in the story and had nothing else. so i focused on the past, instead. and boom, suddenly we have 35 smplive chapters of completely original content.

with every character i live small hints of SOMETHING coming in the future. i leave small holes to be eventually filled by canon, and if canon gives me nothing, i fill them myself with something minor. another good thing is to trust fanon - with a fandom like this, where the creators listen to their fans and canonize a lot of popular fanon, it's good to go in on small fanon knowing it will eventually be canon, or even knowing it will make readers happy and will never impact the story, no matter how much it changes (think tubbo having horns, puffy being a pirate/sea captain of some sort, stuff like that)

there are, of course, times when i can’t avoid changing things from canon. phil not knowing who schlatt is, wilbur not knowing schlatt, etc... but i think in those places, those changes serve to improve the story in some way, and i think it’s a welcome change in the end. this story is definitely leaning more into AU than RETELLING, but i don’t think it’s such a bad thing. while faithfully retelling every major plot point, it adds its own elements and creates a somewhat new and exciting story people can enjoy anew. i think that’s what i strive to do the most in this fic - not retell the story word for word. you’ve already seen the videos. you don’t need that. what i DO want to do is create an engaging read for both avid fans who have seen every stream and casual fans who want the lore to make a little bit more sense to them. and that’s that.

god that went on a while didn’t it haha...

okay so to summarise - whenever something major changes in the canon lore, i have various ways of going about it. usually for some characters i would have left behind hints of SOMETHING and will just try to fit them into whatever change has showed up, or try to at the very least explain them with the new development so it doesn’t seem out of nowhere.

if that is not possible, i look back on all i established and think how i can use it to my advantage. could someone have been forgotten in an old world? is there some sort of nether anomaly that could have caused this? is this character a reliable narrator and have we gotten the full truth? there are a lot of ways to change things around with it being completely out of the blue but seeming fitting for the audience - you just have to really think it through, plan it, and make sure you know exactly what you want to do before going into it.

and finally, if there truly is no way to change a thing, shift canon completely and make sure it doesn’t change the base story. allow me to use the sbi as an example again, since i think they’re a good tool for this;

techno will take tommy in and help him recover from exile, same as canon, because he is his brother, as bdam canon states. at first he’ll just do it because phil wanted him to, but soon it will become a matter of family. when tommy betrays techno, it will hurt him more deeply BECAUSE they’re brothers. when he comes back to phil and tells him what happened, even phil himself will become enraged. the two themselves have been shown to have a history of resorting to violence and aggression in the story (look back at the antarctic empire), so doomsday wouldn’t seem out of  character, or, at the very least, out of the question, when two men like them are pushed to their very limits by a betrayal like this. still, it would be unfair on tommy, but on both sides there would be something justified and something they did wrong - and that’s how you balance a good conflict in any story.

so yeah. i hope this long ass essay made sense. a lot of work goes into making sure this story flows naturally, so i’m glad someone finally asked something like this where i could reveal just how much work goes into it!!!

[ladypaulsvn]

Yours, Mine, Ours

Billie x Reader x Cordelia

Word Count: 1,974

Part 5/?

Read part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4

a/n: SO sorry it took me forever and a day to update this fic, i hope y’all enjoy this chapter <3

Summary: You’ve decided to spend some time with Billie and the two of you spend the day gardening as Cordelia gets lost in her head over her past decisions.

If you were honest, it wasn't the easiest thing, trusting someone again. Cordelia had known your past. She had mended your broken heart and broken mind. She knew of your struggles and the hardships you went through to get where you were today.

She knew of your separation anxiety, depression, all of your trauma. You entrusted Cordelia with the thing most sacred to you, your mind.

Cordelia knew all of this, yet she still went against her words. Her words of never leaving your side. Her words of helping you through the good and the bad. Her words of never treating you like the people of your past did.

Cordelia betrayed you and your trust, then to top it off, broke up with you before you had the chance to do it yourself.

Truthfully, Cordelia regretted her decisions. She never meant to hurt you. Especially in the way she now knew she had.

Cordelia sat in her office, working on a set of notes for a potions class she had to teach later this week as a knock came to her door.

"Ms. Cordelia?" The door swung open and Zoe rushed inside, jumping out of fright when Cordelia shut the door behind her.

"What's wrong Zoe?" Cordelia asked as Zoe carefully made her way to her desk. "Nothings wrong... per say." Zoe rocked on her heels as she stood in front of Cordelia.

Cordelia was seated at her desk, hands clasped in front of her on top of her open notebook, notes scrawled along the page. "What is it Zoe?"

"Y/n won't be here for a few days and I figured that I should tell you." Zoe vomited the words from her mouth as Cordelia's brow furrowed.

"Where is she going to be then?" Cordelia's thoughts were jumbled. "She said she was staying with a friend for a few days. Wouldn't tell me who." Zoe's breath was quick as she watched for Cordelia's reaction.

"A friend?" Cordelia spoke aloud, muttering so quietly Zoe almost didn't hear. "Yes, a friend. She assured me that she was okay. I just felt that you ought to know so you didn't worry when you realized she wasn't here." Zoe explained her actions, yet again.

"Thank you for telling me Zoe. I think you have a class to teach in a few minutes." Cordelia waved her away and Zoe bolted from her office. Cordelia was truly terrifying sometimes.

Cordelia sighed. She knew you were with Billie. It's not like she could do anything. She was the one who broke up with you!

Still, her heart ached at the thought of someone else caring for you, getting every moment of your time. To say she regretted her decisions the past few months would be an understatement. She wished she could turn back time and start again.

***

You woke the next morning to an empty bed and one too many notifications from Cordelia on your phone.

You really didn't want talk to Cordelia. You had a wonderful night with Billie and she made you feel a lot better.

You wondered where she went. Maybe she had a shoot today? She would've told you.

You got up and walked down the stairs, looking for Billie in the different rooms of her house until you found her, still in her pajamas, sitting at the kitchen counter.

She had a cup of what you presumed was coffee in her hand and a newspaper in the other. 'Of course she reads the newspaper' you thought.

"Billie?" She jumped at the sound of your voice but soon a soft smile played on her lips as she beckoned you towards her. "Good morning doll, how'd you sleep?"

You padded your way over to her, sitting on the stool next to her and resting your head on her shoulder. "I slept okay. Thank you for letting me stay with you."

"You're welcome sweetheart. I was thinking about what we could do today, and since you told me you're a green witch and all, I thought maybe we could go out to my garden? It's a little worse for wear as i've been filming and I don't exactly have the most green thumb." She laughed as she held out her thumb.

You bit your lip to stifle your laughter. "I'd love to help you with your garden, Billie." You kept your head rested on her shoulder as she drank the rest of her coffee and read more of the newspaper.

You had nearly fallen back asleep when Billie spoke again "Darling? Why don't we go get dressed in something garden appropriate and head outside?" You lifted your head from her shoulder and nodded, sliding off the stool.

***

You had half-hazardously packed your bags when you left Robichaux's yesterday, so Billie had to lend you a pair of shorts. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel some sorta way to wear Billie's clothing. To feel like you were properly "hers".

You just hoped that Billie would continue lending you her clothes to wear throughout the rest of your visit so you didn't need to go back to the academy before really going back, which you knew you had to eventually.

You almost dreaded going back if you were honest. You'd only been with Billie a day and a half now but god was it the best day and half you'd had lately.

You met Billie outside at her small garden. It was nothing compared to the greenhouse at the academy (which was the only thing you seemed to miss) but you hoped you could give Billie a true hand.

She was bent down placing a flower into a pre dug hole, dirt covering her gloves. You were almost sad you couldn't see her pretty hands and nails anymore.

"Daisies?" You guessed, though you absolutely knew it was a daisy. Billie looked up at you, her sun hat creating a shadow on her face and her giant sunglasses covering the top portion. You wished you could see more of her face.

"Yes! I love daisies." She smiled as you before turning back to the soil and making sure the roots were properly covered. "I've got so many more to plant. Come help me?" She didn't look at you when she said this, she knew you'd help.

And you did. You rushed right over to the pile of potted daisies and miscellaneous flowers that sat next to the crouching woman and picked one up, snipping the plastic pot that surrounded it and peeling it off.

You went right to work as you crouched down next to her and dug a hole, putting the daisy bundle right into it and covering the roots back up as you'd done a million times at the academy.

You, Cordelia, and Misty had spent a whole day outside once, surrounding the academy with hundreds of flowers. You shook your head to rid the memory as you began digging another hole and planting another bundle of daisies.

You stayed out there with Billie for a couple hours, planting the rest of the flowers and fixing up the rest of her garden. Pulling weeds and watering everything nicely. She even dragged you to the shed and you both carried out some decorations she had stored, putting them up all around the garden.

You stood up after stabbing the last decorated stake into the ground and smiled up at Billie who was across the yard. "It looks marvelous!" She yelled to you with a smile and you threw both thumbs up before making your way over to her.

"Ready to go inside? We could both use a shower I think." She winked at you and smiled, a blush creeping onto your face as you nodded.

She grabbed your hand and pulled you into the house, hastily making her way up the stairs and into her bedroom. "Start the shower would you y/n?" She asked sweetly and you nodded, the tint of red still not having left your cheeks.

"I was thinking we could order a pizza after?" Billie yelled to you and you yelled back a resounding "Hell YES!" which made her laugh.

Billie had shown you how to use her shower the night before, as you found it rather confusing. That didn't change now however, as you completely forgot how it worked. You twisted the shower knobs, trying your best to get the temperature correct but whatever you did, it always seemed to be icy cold or scolding hot.

You touched the water again, pulling back with an "OUCH!" as it scolded you once again. "Forgot how already?" Billie hummed, a smirk playing on her face as you turned to her, embarrassed but nodding.

She had taken off all of her accessories at this point, no sun hat or sunglasses. Not even a pearl necklace or diamond earring in sight. Not a single silver ring and her shoes had been thrown to the side.

Her smirk turned into a look of false pity as she met you at the shower door, leaning in front of you and fixing the temperature. "Okay, test it now." She leaned back, waiting.

You looked at her but touched the water again, a perfect temperature. "Perfect." you smiled at her. "Thank you."

"No problem darling." She smiled. "You know.." she called to you as went to exit the bathroom to give her space. You quickly turned back to look at her. "Conserving water is one of many ways to save the planet." She smiled innocently at you and you quirked a brow in her direction.

"Care to join me? It's the least we could do to help the planet, right?" She just asked you to join her in the shower. Oh god. You looked at her hesitatingly but nodded, making her smile grow impossibly big as she motioned for you to come back her way.

You face had to be on fire at this point as you shut the door and made your way back over to her. Your face definitely wasn't getting any less red as she yanked you into her. A yelp left your lips as she planted a surprise kiss onto them and she pulled away with a smirk. "You're so cute when you blush."

***

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Cordelia was deep in her thoughts. She had been trying to convince herself not to drive to you and beg for your forgiveness. Especially considering the location you were at right now...

But her thoughts got the better of her as she informed Zoe she'd be "going out" and would be back later. Zoe gave her a worried look but nodded at Cordelia's instruction to "hold down the fort" while she was gone.

She quickly made her way outside to her car, pinging your phone for its location and then typing the address into her GPS. This was a little much, sure, but Cordelia had to fix this.

As she pulled into Billie's driveway, she noted the home seemed cozy and the small garden to the side seemed recently redone. She wondered if you had a hand in that renovation. You had the magic touch when it came to plants.

Cordelia parked and turned off her little black car before walking up to the front door and pushing the doorbell. She heard the doorbell ring throughout the house, then a familiar voice.

"The pizza's here already?!" Cordelia heard your voice from inside. The door swung open and there you were, hair wet and in a silk laden nightgown that obviously didn't belong to you and Cordelia assumed to be Billie's. A ping of jealously ran through her.

"Cordelia..."

tags: @poulengp @sarahsbabygurl @duchessfics @shineestark @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @lana-b-bana @chokemepaulson @nowthisislanabanana @make--your--life--spectacular @mistyyygoode @mssupremepaulson [comment to be added to the tag list <3]

[egelantier]

Yuletide Recs

Having had two days of more or less nothing but reading fics, I come bearing recs!

First of all, my amazing gifts:

The Goblin Emperor

For Thy Principles

The nohecharei of Edrehasivar VII were unparalleled in their defense of his person, but there were limits to even their prowess. When Maia first developed the fever, Cala quickly determined that it was not the end result of a magically-based assassination attempt – and from there it had to be left to the court physicians.

Maia falls ill, and Csethiro protects him as best she can.

Beautifully gentle Maia sickfic, with Csethiro holding him together. For me all for meeee.

Benjamin January Mysteries

Dry as a Bone

“Oh. Well, I’ve been better, maestro, been a hell of a lot better to tell truth.” Shaw stared at him for a long moment, and he was stunned to see honest to God grief in his eyes. Even when Shaw had just lost his brother he had been so much more himself than this lost man currently standing before him. “Not that I mean to put anything extra on your shoulders, I’m sure you’ve got enough of your own shit going on at present moment, but it seems like I’ve just lost my job.”

Shaw loses his job, and finally confronts Ben about trust (and lack thereof) between them. It’s GREAT.

The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards

A Distraction Worth Losing

They may never be together, but the gods would have to move heaven and earth to split Rune and Brand apart.

Brand, Rune and The Kiss incident. (Poor messed up babies, somebody save them.)

And fics of the collection:

17776, Astreiant, Raksura, Frederica, The Gentlemen, The Goblin Emperor, Hades, Innkeeper Chronicles, Jeeves, Kate Daniels, King Arthur the movie, My Next Life as a Villainess, Nirvana in Fire, No. 6, Psmith, The Secret Garden, The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty, Swordspoint, The Tarot Sequence, Teixcalaan Series, The Temple of the White Rat verse

17776: What Football Will Look Like in the Future

so far, so fast

When Manny gets a craving for some fancy meal he had once, over ten thousand years ago, Nick decides he’s gonna fulfill that craving, no matter how hard it is. Because real romance is about making the impossible happen for his husband.

Goddamn transcendental.

Go Get It

Sometimes you start out just planning to get some groceries with your husband, and next thing you know, you’re committing to join the most hopeless team in college football.

Nick and Manny decide to play. It’s perfect.

Afterlife

A young man dies six months before the end of human death; his loss saves five lives, which end up much longer than anyone expects. (A series of worldbuilding vignettes about original characters in the 17776 setting.)

Made me cry, in a very cathartic way.

Astreiant Series - Melissa Scott & Lisa A. Barnett

April dressed in all his trim

A quiet evening in spring.

Sweet little slice-of-life with lovely sensory details.

Books of the Raksura

The Second Consort

“When Glow arrives, be friendly and welcoming,” Ember said. “Not scary.”

“Why does everyone think I’m going to scare him?”

Chime said, “They can see your face when you look at him.” He paused, glancing over at Moon. “That face, that’s the one.”

Ember sighed. “I remember being in his position. It’s pretty nerve-wracking coming to a new court and not knowing what’s going to happen to you there - whether they’re going to welcome you or shun you, whether you’ll make new friends, whether a queen is going to claim you…” He came and put a sympathetic hand on Moon’s shoulder. “Glow is probably worried about all of those things, and missing his home and clutchmates, and it’s our job to try and help him relax.” For a moment Moon thought he was just being soft-hearted, until Ember added, “He won’t open up and tell us what’s really going on unless he’s relaxed.”

Jade takes in a new consort, on Moon’s permission, and everybody is delightfully adult about it.

Frederica

Lady Alverstoke

Frederica commences her first Season as a married woman by planning a ball, promising most straitly that her husband will have nothing whatsoever to do …

Sweet and funny slice-of-life post-happy-ending for canon.

**The Gentlemen (2019) **

Even

The week after he intercepts Fletcher, that squirrelly little cunt, outside the London Miramax office, Raymond reluctantly ventures down to Brixton.

Under normal circumstances, Raymond tends to give this part of Brixton a wide berth, but he has unfinished business that needs attending to. Of course, that doesn’t mean he has to like being accosted by the overwhelming smell of greasy fish and chips when he pushes the car door open, doesn’t mean he has to be pleased about stepping into a piece of chewed-up gum the moment he sets a foot on the kerb.

But then, he can always take a shower after an errand in Brixton. The deep-seated discomfort of unfinished business doesn’t wash off that easily.

Raymond tries to pay Coach back for saving his life, and it doesn’t quite go as planned :D

The Goblin Emperor

The Archduke’s Discovery

Prince Nemolis goes on a journey, and learns a bit more than he wanted to know.

Really great point of canon divergence, and true and precise character voices.

Hades

all the spaces between us

For a place full of the dead, crammed with ghostly shades and nothing but the endless lull of eternity unchanging, gossip sure travelled fast in the Underworld.

Or, Zagreus mulls over his relationship with Thanatos while the rest of the Underworld get overly invested.

Slow, slow, slowest of burns.

Innkeeper Chronicles - Ilona Andrews

A Quick Trip

“It’ll be a quick trip,” Maud said, more to herself than to Arland. “No one will even notice we’re gone.”

Pirates are plaguing an ally, just outside of vampire space. Maud and Arland don some aesthetically beat-up armor and try to get more information from the pirates themselves. Of course, plans only last until you meet your enemy. Or your enemy’s giant alien attack boar.

Excellent canon voice, action/adventure sprinkled with badassery and hilarity.

Jeeves & Wooster

August Thirteenth

Discovering that this is not the first August thirteenth that he’s lived through, that certainly was a head scratcher. Luckily Bertie has the stalwart presence of his man’s man, Jeeves.

Very, very great and satisfying use of the time loop.

Kate Daniels - Ilona Andrews

lookin’ like a snack (cake)

It took Barabas a while to figure it out, because he wasn’t used to not being taken seriously.

Barabas considered several ways to phrase it, and finally settled upon, “Do you have a thing for twinks?” Christopher knocked his head back against the headrest: once, then again. “Is that a yes?”

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

When Goosefat Bill finds himself in a difficult situation, the last thing he wants is the King to show up and “help”, in his own unique and unexpected way.

Goosefat Bill does not need to be rescued by his King. But he might just enjoy it a little.

My Next Life as a Villainess (Anime)

All I Have To Bring Today

Catarina and Sophia had been discussing the latest in the Devilish Count series, and Sophia had mentioned how romantic the surprise picnic the count had planned for his lover was and how she wished for someone to surprise her like that.

“What about you, Catarina? Have you ever wished for someone to sweep you off your feet?” Sophia had asked.

Catarina makes a choice! As sweet and as hilarious as the canon.

Nirvana in Fire

Adverse Event

What a pitiful man must he have become, if the only thing he could provoke in bed was a monologue on his character flaws.

: or, the famous strategist mei changsu plays xanatos speed chess against truth serum: the fic.

Mei Changsu gets hit with an accidental truth serum; it doesn’t stop him from lying to himself, but it does buy Jingyan a clue.

Records of the Land of Xiang

There was something of Xiao Jingyan there, in the firmness of his jaw, the unforgiving slash of his brows, and most clearly in the eyes that neither saw nor conveyed deception. But Long Zhan was not Jingyan, could never be, no matter how much Changsu might wish otherwise, because Jingyan was dead.

In service to a very-much-alive Prince Qi, Jingyan dons a Jianghu-typical disguise and infiltrates the Jiangzuo Alliance to suss out this Mei Changsu fellow and see if he might be useful in helping them re-open the Chiyan conspiracy case. Basically, a slightly ridiculous premise where everyone is running around the Jianghu with masks, multiple identities, and secret agendas.

Fascinating and fun AU scenario that delves, among other things, into Mei Changsu the jianghu chef, not Sir Su the court schemer.

suffering as I suffer you

The first time Jingyan stays the night at Su Manor, he discovers an uncomfortable truth about Mei Changsu.

Excellent extrapolation of Mei Changsu’s illness into his nightly routine - with Jingyan watching…

Here, In Our Arms

With the world put to rights, however briefly, Xiao Jingyan and Mu Nihuang take the opportunity to make a fuss over their beloved Lin Shu, and will not take no for an answer.

Sweet moment of comfort.

Find the Coals Amid the Ashes

Despite Changsu’s assertions, Lin Chen is a well brought up person. He would never violate his host’s privacy during a social call. It would be inexcusable, for example, to break into a marquis’s private alchemy lab in the middle of said marquis’s birthday party, in order to search said alchemy lab for certain hard to find medicinal herbs, which one has reason to believe can be found therein. These would be the actions of a man without honour, of a man who has only desperation to his name.

Lin Chen crashes a party and makes a new friend.

The best team up ever :D

Dead Letters

Mei Changsu isn’t the only schemer in Da Liang.

Fei Liu fixes things, in the most Fei Liu way imaginable, and it’s great.

No. 6

All Good Things

In the midst of a crisis for No. 6, Nezumi returns to Shion’s side.

A reunion! And cuddling.

Psmith

The Psky Is The Limit

“As this ship’s Orator, my mission is still as it was in the beginning and shall ever be, world without end. It is to hail any message sent by comrades from outer space and pass it on to you verbatim. Well! The hour, I say, has come. The Word has come into being. Here comes Psmith, bearing news of great mirth: the intercom has spoken.”

(A Mike and Psmith Space AU)

Psmith in space! Hysterically funny Psmith in Pspace, at that.

Psmith Pops In

Psmith reached over and solicitously loosened Mike’s scarf, his fingers brushing the skin of Mike’s neck, and that young man, to his horror, felt heat creeping up from where gloved fingers brushed his bare skin. Really, this blushing nonsense was getting out of hand. Ever since Psmith had tried to take the blame in the case of the painted dog, Mike had developed an inexplicable habit of turning hot and cold around him, and these odd responses had become more and more frequent.

Very funny! And then very tragique! And then jussssst right.

The Secret Garden

The Space Garden

When Meri La Nix was sent from the Mars colony to live with her aunt at Missiles Wait Manor, nobody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. But some of them thought it.

Beautifully inventive space retelling - with gardens, still.

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty

The sky spinning above him

In which there’s a jewellery thief on the loose, Tang Fan plays dress up, gets a mild concussion and also a boyfriend.

Frothy, sweet, well-grounded and hot. Also hilarious (check the end note!)

truth in fiction

Three days after Wang Zhi leaves the capital, bits and pieces of his extensive library begin arriving at Sui Zhou’s house.

Sui Zhou is really committed to research and accuracy in Tang Fan’s porn. It’s delightful.

Time don’t fool me no more

“The electrician is a Tang dynasty spy,” he says, dumping some of his eggs in Tang Fan’s bowl.

Tang Fan nods, shovels more food in his mouth, and starts talking again.

Past or future, Tang Fan has Priorities. And Sui Zhou is weak.

Meeting at the End

Sui Zhou knew he never should have let Tang Fan go alone. He knew he should have gone with him.

Really, really great and desperate whump. Super satisfying.

clever boy

Tang Fan never spares a smile for any of the girls at Wang Zhi’s establishment, he’s noticed. That’s alright, though. It means Wang Zhi gets his attention for himself.

Wang Zhi falling, falling hard; it’s delightful.

a bold and brilliant sun

“You’re sure you didn’t do something to it? They don’t usually stall out,” Sui Zhou says. He looks away from Tang Fan, out the windshield at the endless rust-red of the planet.

Tang Fan pouts at this, and slumps down on the edge of the console, feet propped up at an absurd angle against the pilot’s seat. “You think I’d fake a mechanical issue just so that they’d send a sexy Fleet crewman out here to rescue me?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he giggles. “Okay, I would do that, but I promise that this time the problem is real.”

Space AU! Most excellent space AU condensing all there is to love about the canon in one perfect package.

Blind Taste Test

Wang Zhi invites Tang Fan to evaluate Joyous Brothel’s chefs — but it’s Tang Fan and Sui Zhou who are really being tested.

Wang Zhi, ever helpful :)

Authorial Intent

Sui Zhou and Tang Fan end up in hot water yet again. Kinky sex ensues.

Hilarious, kinky, heartfelt, and in character.

Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner

Chrysopoeia

It struck Alec that this would have been much easier if their positions were reversed. Richard would have known what to do if he’d been dragged back here with a hole in his gut. He was quite simply not supposed to be the one on this end of the equation. In fact, it was possible he had done something very bad to deserve this.

Richard is wounded, and Alex is coping. Excellent h/c and excellent bloodplay and sharp, painful slice of Alex’ POV, excellently rendered.

At first — this was just like him — he thought he was hearing god. But it was only the man in the bed, whose face had turned toward him on the ragged pillow.

The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards

Third’s a Charm

Addam asks a favor of Brand.

Addam asks Brand for help, which ends up being exactly what Brand and Rune need.

Pretty good

Five times Brand crawls into Rune’s bed and one time Rune crawls into Brand’s.

Brand and Rune, through the years.

Teixcalaan Series - Arkady Martine

Also in the Act of Reaching

When Three Seagrass arrived at Lsel Station, she was, officially at least, traveling as a private personage. She had missed Mahit and the possibilities they’d both chosen to turn away from. She also had– would always have– a gaping hole in her life where Petal had once stood.

It was simply that, left on her own, Three Seagrass wouldn’t have let either absence drag her to the ass-end of beyond.

Reunion, metaphors and realigment. Subtle and clever and just right.

The (concept of the) World Was Wide Enough

Yskandr Aghavn comes to the world like a drowning man comes to shore, but he is living on borrowed time. Teixcalaan has so many wonderful things to choke on.

Teixcalaan has had his heart for all of his life, has elevated him, corrupted him, and discarded him.

It is Lsel that he thinks of as he dies.

Temple of the White Rat Universe - T. Kingfisher

If Grace Is Too Much

Zale is given a case by Bishop Beartongue which turns out to be more complicated and personal than a holy advocate-priest would prefer.

Clever and sweet and carefully shocking, but in a very right way.

Outreach

“We don’t generally assess the… cursédness… of objects, trees or otherwise,” Beartongue said.

Utterly delightful.