#enjoy these idiots please!

[majestic-salad]

The failwomen <3 @les-bionic-titan

[alabasterpickles]

Experimental drawing of my two favorite TMNT villains because A I got a cintiq I wanted to test drive and B I need some merch of these guys I’m desperate 😭

Heavily inspired by classic punk posters and comic art

[hyperfocusthusly]

[vllergy]

painkillers

vesen request, 2.1 k, cold fic ty to @scatter-snz for this elite prompt i hope this is what u had in mind!!! jin-young is a cop (he has the kink because of who i am as a person) vesen is a big tall hot alien assassin aliens and humans are working together but it's still pretty new and things are awkward jin and vesen 100% fall in love with each other eventually that's basically all you need to know

It's Jin's first day being back after a record two days off. In his six years on the force, he can't remember the last time he took actual sick leave. To be fair, he doesn't get sick that often and when he does, he's aways been the type to grin and bear it. Part upbringing, part police conditioning. If you're not dead, you're fit to serve. Or at least that's the way it always has been. The Kheelen changed that. Human officers aren't spread thin these days due to the partnering initiative. So his cases that would have once fallen to the wayside in his absence now fall to his partner, Vesen. And he's expected to trust that his taciturn, ill-mannered Kheelen counterpart can handle that shit on his own when Jin is otherwise indisposed.

For the most part, Jin does. Vesen may be an ass, but he's a competent investigator. Unfortunately, he and Jin's methods when it comes to gathering information are still wildly disparate. Something he knew, but didn't truly understand the consequences of until now as he sits across their latest subject in the interrogation room.

In the two days Jin took to nurse the cold from hell, it seems Vesen has taken it upon himself to put the fear of God into this man.

The man is visibly sweating. His eyes are only focused on Jin, though every so often they twitch Vesen's direction only to snap back as if his very image is a chemical burn. His cuffed hands tremble on the steel surface of the table and he picks at his cuticles the longer they sit there. Jin doesn't blame him, necessarily. Vesen is, objectively, terrifying. Even just sitting like this you can tell he's the apex predator in the room. He's so much bigger than both Jin and the other man--he overpowers the chair and the room itself, looking comically oversized for the entire thing. Jin thinks all the Kheelen look a little silly in the human precinct, actually. Crunching themselves into tiny desks, massive hands cupping small coffee mugs, ducking under doorways--it'd be laughable if they weren't all sure the Kheelen would crush their skulls for even a giggle about it. Jin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Intimidating is usually an advantage in an interrogation, but whatever Vesen's done to this guy over the past two days has pushed it over the line. He's not just intimidated, he's shitting his pants. There's no way they're getting through to him now. And frankly? Jin is too tired to rectify the situation. He's still not feeling great. His head is fuzzy and dulled, his painkillers are wearing off, and part of him knows he should be back in bed. But he's legitimately worried Vesen will frighten this man to death if he leaves him alone with him for any longer, and that's a bad look for everyone. Sniffing softly, Jin blinks and tries another tactic. "We want to help you, Anish."

Vesen scoffs at this, and Jin just barely manages not to roll his eyes. "But you have to give us something to work with," he continues.

Anish shivers and shakes his head, "It doesn't matter! You know it doesn't! These bastards are taking over and they're just pretending to play nice until they don't have to anymore." Oh boy, here we go. Vesen's hackles rise, just as Jin expects. The alien leans forward, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Artificial light flickers over his lilac skin and makes his dark hair shine like ink. "You dare insinuiate my people are not here out of good faith?" he hisses, sharp canines flashing, "When you are accused of aiding in a terrorist attack against them?" Jin reaches out for his arm. Down, boy. His fingers drift over steel muscle beneath Vesen's uniform as he tries to tug him back into his seat. He's about to say something to try and reign him in when he realizes with sudden horror that he's about to sneeze instead. "Hhh?" He quickly turns away, angling himself away from the table and steepling his hands over his nose and mouth. His eyebrows crash together as an embarrassingly sharp breath snags in his lungs before-- "chhSH’iew!!"

And it's never just one. "CHshISHh’iu!"

Two is actually pretty good for him, especially with this fucking cold. He gives a tentative sniffle before raising his head and clearing his throat. The tickle abates for the moment, but he can feel it buzzing dully in the back of his sinuses, tickling in the corners of his eyes. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care. Sneezing in public isn't his favorite thing, given how he feels about the activity in general, but he's never been good at stifling so it's not something that can be avoided. But sneezing in front of Vesen is a new hell in and of itself. Without even looking, he can feel the intensity of his partner's gaze on him and it makes heat begin to crawl up his throat. Fucking hell. "Excuse me," he says with a soft sniff and clears his throat again.

At the very least, he's dispelled the tension. "Arguing about who started what or whose intentions are genuine isn't going to get us anywhere. So let's not even get into that," he says, sending Vesen a warning glance. Vesen, he suddenly notes, is staring directly at his nose. For some reason that revelation sets off a nuclear detonation in Jin's lower belly and all the blood in his body rushes south. Self-consciously, Jin rubs at his nostrils and tries to think about anything else. But that only aggravates the dormant tickle, and he has to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to curb the impulse. "Fine," Vesen hisses, turning his eyes back to Anish, "Then let us stick to the facts." Anish gulps. Jin strokes a finger down the datapad in front of him, bringing up a few files. They could pin Anish with his money transfer trail. Or his text messages. He and Vesen haven't which way they were going to do this--they hardly ever agree anyway--but he shifts the pad closer to his partner so that he can look too. "The facts are, you are a coward, Anish," Vesen suddenly purrs, "And you will not survive a week in prison if I put you there." Jin could strangle him. He does roll his eyes this time and looks toward the ceiling, as if asking some higher power for the strength not to. "What my partner means is that you nee--" The bright lights overhead tease the last bit of the tickle out at the most inopportune time. The fuzzy, static feeling inside his head snaps like someone struck a bolt of lightning into the middle of his face. He whips to the side, his elbow in front of him and his hand braced on his opposite shoulder. "Hh--excuse meehh'IIsHH!"

He mists the inside of his elbow, shakes his head softly and then gears up for another. His breath stumbles, eyelashes fluttering. "Are you going to continue sneezing?" Vesen deadpans. "Hhhuh?" Jin blinks blearily, his cheeks going red as he tries--unsuccessfully--to pinch off the next one, "nnTTchSHH'iu!"

"Madrax. What is that inane human saying? Bless you, Jin-young."

Vesen stands as Jin pulls a crumpled tissue from his pocket and tends to his nose. In the next second, he feels his collar being tugged and himself yanked up from his chair. Feet stumbling under him, he struggles to get his balance for a moment until Vesen's large hand steadies him at the small of his back. Vesen's low voice simmers with what sounds distinctly like a threat, "We will return, Anish. Make yourself comfortable."

Then, before Jin knows what's happening, he's being guided out of the interrogation room and back into the hall. The door shuts and Vesen's hand retreats from his back. In a moment, the alien is towering before him, arms crossed over his broad chest and staring down imperiously at him. "Jin-young," he says disapprovingly. Jin blows his nose softly and retrieves another crumpled tissue. "Vesen."

"You are still ill." "I'm on the tail end of it."

"I do not wish to work with you when you are not well."

Jin scoffs, dabbing at his red nostrils, "I thought the Kheelen didn't get sick. I'm pretty sure you can't catch this."

"It is not my well-being I am concerned for."

Jin's eyebrows shoot skyward. Vesen, concerned for someone besides himself? No fucking way. He might have said as much if his nostrils didn't suddenly swell double. He crushes the tissue to his nose and mouth to muffle a tired sneeze.

"hdj'SHMMf!!"

"Bless you."

Jin blinked and gasped, "Hh'chhmpf!"

"Bless you."

Jin adjusts the tissue to try and find a dry spot, missing the next sneeze entirely and directing it to the floor. "You don't have to say it every ti-hiime--hhCH'ISSH'iu!"

"And why not? Bless you. You said it is something humans say when another sneezes. You are sneezing, are you not?"

Jin blushes darkly as he attends to his nose. Does Vesen have any idea what he was doing to him? Clearly not, or else he'd be raking him over the fucking coals for it. But somehow him being oblivious is making it so much worse. "Look who's suddenly so concerned over human-Kheelen relations," Jin gripes hoarsely, trying desperately to deflect. Anything to stop talking about him sneezing and Vesen blessing him. He'd rather be waterboarded. "You should go home, Jin-young." "And leave you to eat our sole witness alive? I don't think so." Vesen bristled, "You doubt my abilities."

"If we were torturing the guy? Not for a second. But we're trying to get him to talk to us, Ves." "Ah yes, and sneezing at him incessantly is doing the job just as well. Perhaps there is some merit to that," Vesen leans forward, grinning, "You look so unspeakably pathetic that he might take pity on you and finally tell us the truth."

Jin tosses his sodden tissues in the nearby wastebin and scrubs at his face.

"Fuck you," he groans, "Can we just go back and get this over with?"

"No, you are going home."

Vesen grabs his upper arm, his grip like a vice. Jin never really forgets how strong the Kheelen are, but every so often a brazen display hubles him completely. Vesen steers him effortlessly back down the hall without any hope of him struggling against him. "Wait, Vesen, c'mon--" He struggles anyway, just on principle. But a moment later he yanks on his grip unintentionally as he wrenches away from him with another ill-timed sneeze. "Hh'CHISSihuh!" He nearly bends double on that one and Vesen abruptly pulls him to a stop. The alien holds fast to his arm as if he can sense that Jin is going to lose his balance if he's not tethered to anything. "hah'hhCHHishh! iSSCchuh!" His ears begin to ring. Distantly, he's aware of Vesen's other hand bracing against his shoulder. That second point of contact sets his blood on fire. Before he can think too hard about that, another sneeze tickles the inside of his sinuses and he attempts to smother it with his free hand, "PpshhiSHHch!"

"Bless you," Vesen sighs as Jin straightens back up wearily, "Are you finished?"

"Yes," Jin lies and then shakes his head rapidly, turning away and pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, "NnghsSHH'iu!"

Vesen taps his shoulder. It almost feels...sympathetic?

"Go home, Jin-young. I will wait until you are well again to interrogate our witness."

Jin sniffles and glances up with watering eyes. "W-wait, really?" It's an unexpected gesture of charity from Vesen who has been historically uncharitable all the time he's known him. He narrows his glassy eyes, skeptical. Or at least, he tries to look skeptical despite the fact that his heart is in his throat because Vesen is still holding onto him and just watched him sneeze his head off with rapt, disgustingly erotic attention. "What's the catch?" "There is no catch. Just go before I lose my patience," Vesen said.

Jin knows better than to argue with that. Vesen is someone who loses his patience extraordinarily quickly, and it's never pretty. If he's giving him an out, Jin might as well take it.

Sniffling, Jin nods and gives him a tiny salute, "Thanks, Ves."

Vesen finally lets go of him. He grunts in response, gives him one last unreadable glance, and then turns on his heel. Before Jin can say anything else, his impossibly tall figure disappears back down the hall towards the interrogation room.

Jin isn't totally sure, but he thinks Vesen might not be such a bad guy after all.

That, and he's suddenly unreasonably horny.

[fortheloveofaminorcharacter]

The Stormhold Princes in Stardust (2007)

[lavander-galaxy]

Shoutout to the curly hair alastor enjoyers out there this one is for you 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[sn0wbat]

sparkle on, tiberius ✨

[srorgana1]

The perfect way to start off Festival Season...

A huge thank you to Kyloremuss on Twitter for her amazing work and talent ❤️❤️

Come check out Rockstar Kylo in Into The Reverb at the link below 🤘❤️

[p4nishers]

the only s2 azicrow dynamic i'll accept: crowley having The Worst Time™, in love and pining like there's no tomorrow, wondering just how slow he has to go for aziraphale to love him and crying into his car seat every night vs aziraphale happily going cake tasting and picking out the table cloth for their wedding.

[load--of--bollocks]

Modern!BBC Ghosts! AU

Robin-Guitarist. Bisexual. You have to earn his trust, and he is often overly cautious about new people. Friendly, but at the same time kinda shy. Like cacti, and chicken salad. Hates thunderstorms, they cause panic attacks.

Captain- He's a History professor at a college actually. Very passionate about his subject and can go on for hours. Gay, childhood PTSD, loves dogs and talking about War, hates loud noises like fireworks, balloons popping, etc.

Fanny- A manners etiquette teacher for children. Not married, and doesn't plan to be. Was engaged at some point, but caught her fiance cheating the night before the wedding, drunk at a party. She likes good manners and scones (with raspberry jam & tea, of course. She's not an animal.) Hates, bad manners, and spicy foods.

Humphrey- He's a lawyer. Engaged, with his husband-to-be, and has two pet cats, Lady and Knight. He doesn't drink coffee but is very much a tea person, thank you. He likes animals and painting, but it is more of a hobby, and hates untidiness, car alarms, and Mondays.

Part 2??

[wawataka]

me seeing the 194716th au where reigen adopts mob (mob has his own loving parents (what about ritsu (reigen can barely take care of himself)))

[widevibratobitch]

Since we're both as unwell about him as we are I consider you to be someone who knows a fair amount and what do you genuinely think the real James Fitzjames would feel if he saw the Terror's depiction of him? (As in watching the whole show)

HUH good question. first of all i think he'd be a little discombobulated by the very experience of watching a tv show but personally i choose to believe he'd at least be happy he was made into one of the main characters?? and that so many cool and sexy insane people are obsessed with him now <3

having said that. as much as i love show!fitzjames they did nerf him down A LOT. they robbed him of the joyous whimsy that was such a characteristic trait of the real jokester supreme fitzjames (show!fitzjames also has little to no relationship with his irl lieutenant buddies which. sad.)

we also know now that. most probably. he was actually fully english so i can only imagine he'd be Not Pleased about the cairn scene to say it lightly lmao imagine you and your adoptive family making significant efforts throughout your whole life to disguise the fact of your illegitimate birth and then 150 years later some people make a high rating show where they babygirlify you not only spill your secret to the millions of people watching (or secrets, plural, and make you call yourself a fake as a cherry on top lol) but they also get it wrong and make it Even Worse (from a victorian englishman's perspective) like stop guys he's already dead lmfao

having said that. he would have loved the britannia costume and the your nails are a terror line. i know he would.

[majorshatterandhare]

It is very obvious to me that I like music that tells stories. (ALL music tells stories. Every song tells a story.) I like concept albums, I like musicals.

Therefore I find it very funny both that my favorite Mech’s album is one of the two that don’t have an overarching story *and* that my favorite My Chem album is the one that doesn’t have an overarching story.

[melodyofthevoid]

Bodies are Business and Business is Good

Tw: blood, torture, amputation, etc. (It’s Heather) 

Word Count: 3,326

There were fewer things more satisfying, Heather thought, than the slight hiss of the gas lamp in her work office.

A frankly wonderful modern invention, much more controlled than simple wax candles and less likely to blow out at a moment’s notice when she had her back turned or was in the middle of delicate work. Natural light wasn’t exactly an option, not here. And her clients tended to demand their money’s worth.

Plus, it was so nice to listen to the small intake of breath when her victims realized she was there. And the narrowing of their eyes as she became fully visible.

She turned the key and struck a match, blinking as her own eyes adjusted to the light, bouncing off of the thick carved stone and cast iron tools lining the walls. The vials and jars just waiting to be filled. And, shining off of the few exposed scales of the exhausted mer panting and strapped to her operation table.

As expected, they flinched when she descended the stairs, pulling at the restraints with all of their might. Clearly not enough, but a valiant effort.

“Apologies for the delay, but since you so stubbornly held onto your disguise, it put a damper on my evening plans the other day. I’m sure you must be thirsty.”

The angel fish snarled, flaring their bright yellow tail and thrashing harder, their scales– iridescent– bright blues, yellows and greens that would make for excellent amulets or accessories.

She made a note to get more leather and wire for the necklaces. Accessories sold well. Not as well as her other products, but well enough. A status symbol to those who were in the know.

“Fuck off- you- you-”

“Bitch? Monster? I’m sure I’ve heard it before. Believe me, I have.”

A well in the back, hidden by a few boxes, caught her victim’s eye as she walked over to it, grabbing a nearby bucket and pumping it full. Saltwater smell filled the air, overpowering the metallic tang of Heather’s tools.

The mer eyed the bucket, thrashing less as she approached. Ah, good. Maybe this one would be cooperative. Or somewhat more cooperative.

“Actually… Before we get started, and I let you have this, I have a simple question for you. Do you happen to know the location of any other mermaid colonies? You don’t have to tell me all of them, just one or two.”

Any relief that the mer–oh what was their name again? It didn’t really matter, the mer’s relief vanished, eyes narrowing to slits and their fins flaring out.

“Tell you- no. Fuck you. You and your dog won’t get your hands on any more mer- not if I can help it.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing, he is something of a dog, look at you.”

She ran a hand along their tail, ghosting over the gashes that lined it. Wounds that’d barely scabbed over during transport. Other bruises and scratches marred their skin and fins. Heather scowled. Charles was new, but that didn’t excuse abject incompetence.

This would put something of a dent in what she could sell. Charles would be compensated accordingly.

“I told him minimal damage, and yet here you are. Can’t even follow basic directions right. But I digress. If you won’t offer what I need, there’s no sense in dragging this out.”

Heather mulled over where to start, eyeing her knives and branding rods. Carving took longer, but risked too much thrashing for a clean cut. Fins, for all of their use, tore rather easily if not handled properly.

Morro —ah, right that was their name— looked to be healthy enough that draining them first wouldn’t end in them bleeding out entirely.

The needle it was then.

“Now where did I put it… ah, here it is.”

She hummed under her breath, pulling out three glass jars, and her needle, cleaning off the point of it and eyeing Morro’s exposed forearms. A good thing that they were tense already. That certainly made things easier.

A particularly exposed vein on their right arm made for the perfect target and Heather couldn’t help the shiver that went down her spine as the metal slid into the skin, flesh giving way to the needle’s piercing point. So satisfying.

Immediately crimson blood filled the glass tank of the gun, flowing down to the tube and filling up the first jar. The lifeblood of her operation, so to speak. So many customers, all vying for that most viscous and vital of her products. And who was she to deny them when she was living testimony of its efficacy?

Of course she’d never give away all her trade secrets for her longevity. She wasn’t born yesterday.

Or even within the last half century.

In any case, the blood flowed easily, and already one jar gleamed with it. Full to the brim. Switching one out for the other, Heather placed it off on a table, taking a moment to admire the flicker of the gas lamp light against the glass and crimson. Perhaps one day she’d find some other substance, a gemstone, a resin, something that could capture the beauty of her craft.

She doubted it though.

With a second jar nearly filled, Morro’s skin showed the effects. Ashy, almost clammy in places. Their gaze unfocused and any attempts at thrashing much weaker than before. Reaching the limits of what they could give today.

Heather switched out the jars one last time, watching the stream slowly taper off as their breathing slowed down and body relaxed against their will. For their trouble, she poured some of the sea water in the bucket over them, giving them a pat on the shoulder as she extracted the needle from their vein and bandaged the wound. Some blood sluggishly seeping through the gauze.

“You,” Morro slurred, “you’ll pay for this. Indra will hunt you for the rest of your days.”

“Mmm, is that so? Tell me, how long do you think I’ve done this work?”

Her captive didn’t respond. Only glaring with bared fangs.

“Believe me, if your goddess really gave a damn, I’d think she’d have taken notice by now. I’m not going anywhere, and for the time being? Neither are you.”

“The debt will be paid- MHMPH!”

Heather tied the gag tighter, rolling her eyes.

“That’s enough out of you. I’ll spare myself the usual theatrics. Feel free to still scream though, I don’t mind. You’ll give me what I want either way.”

Finally, Heather could get to the real work.

Choosing the right knife to start with always proved to be the most taxing part of the work. She’d tried typical fish scalers in the past, but those were better suited for the fishmongers and fresh markets. The scales she worked with required more work than that. But on the other hand, using the back of the wrong knife chipped and damaged the scales, and no one wanted to buy half a scale.

Heather’s fingers danced along the different blades, intermittently picking one up, twirling it, feeling the heft and then setting it back down, moving on to the next one. Eventually she settled on her favorite, a long curving blade, sturdy and sharp. Tempered steel reflecting her own dark gaze back at her.

Starting from the base of the tail, as she’d done a thousand times before, she wedged the back end of it underneath the first line of scales, and pushed upwards.

The previously limp mermaid jerked up, a muffled yelp coming from beneath the gag. Of course, Morro barely possessed the strength to so much as twitch. Too tired to fully put up a fight, but Heather tightened the straps on their tail anyway. With that secure, she continued pushing up, the shining iridescent angelfish scales now tinted red at the base as they fell to the floor below. They’d be cleaned and polished later.

Despite the gag, Heather winced as the mer tried to shriek, to throw her off through the only means they had left. Admirable if it weren’t so annoying. She took a step back and stood back up, towering over her prey. Cooing with a voice as sickly sweet as she could make it.

“Oh relax, this isn’t even the worst part. But we can get to that if you want. It might make this seem pleasant in comparison. How does that sound?”

Morro shook their head, but she’d already flipped her blade around and dug it into the membrane of the main tail fin, slicing through with no resistance. The bright yellow would make for a lovely trophy for the right buyer.

It was a little too bright for her tastes though. It clashed with the decor.

Hitching breaths came from above, strained and hissing through clenched teeth. The poor thing was trying to keep themself calm even with the gag. She laughed, cutting through the dorsal and pectoral fins next, setting them aside to dry.

Muffled moans and cries left Morro and Heather checked their cheeks to see if there were tears. A frustratingly rare commodity. Not that they did anything but clients always wanted them. By all means she could just sell some sea water, but she had standards.

She clicked her tongue to see that there were no tears. A shame.

With the last of the fins removed, Heather spun her knife back around and continued peeling away the scales, with far less reaction this time, which was also in and of itself a shame. She liked the fight so long as she could still do her job. Heather’d done Morro a mercy if anything. After an amputation, pulling a few scales probably felt like nothing. Like pulling nails off of a hand freshly devoid of a few fingers.

Sometimes though, the sudden lack of fight signaled an end to that night’s session. Ignoring her subjects too much could be costly.  Brushing the last few whole scales into a second bucket, Heather stood back up, examining her work.

Morro was slumped over, exhausted from the strain and blood loss. Wiping any excess off of her knife on her apron, Heather did her usual checks, pulse, reflex, breathing, etc. They were still alive, which meant that she’d get at least a few more pints out of them by the time they eventually kicked the bucket. It’d be such a waste if she only got one day’s worth.

They’d hold out longer than that, she’d make sure of it.

With a sigh, she got out her needle and thread, stitching up the gashes Charles left and cleaning out the wounds. Bandaging up the stump near the tail. No infections, and no potential loss. The blood was no good from a dead mer.

As much as she liked the final processing steps, she still had other orders to fulfill, and going out of her way to catch another prospect? A waste of her time and resources. Nothing wasted, not if she could help it. 

Her hairnet came off, as did the gloves and apron, all placed in their proper places far enough away that any nearby officers couldn’t smell the fresh blood on her. She needed to replace the shirt though. Again. The price she paid for wearing white.

Ah well, no skin off her back. She disposed of any evidence once or twice a year. Fireplaces served a variety of uses.  

A quick shower and a change of clothes left Heather feeling far more accomplished and relaxed now that the euphoria of her work had passed. There was a certain… thrill to it, to the slice of flesh under her knife. But getting lost in that feeling led to less than precise work. In less vials of blood and damage to the organs she needed to sell later. So, for the sake of her own work, she had to take breaks. Balance was key, and experience taught her well.

Maybe for the evening she could fully unwind with some luxury time. She’d just have to find that bottle of wine and those chocolates she’d been saving.

The glasses were in the cabinet of her office, so here was hoping that there weren’t any last minute visitors. She’d had enough business for the day.

Though as she entered the room from the back, she sighed. No such luck.  

A certain red-haired captain stood in the main lobby, smoking a cigar. Blowing rings of smoke into the air with his usual air of disinterest. Odd, he’d delivered her fresh supply not even a year and a half ago. Confusion outweighed her irritation at the intrusion. For now.

“To what do I owe this visit, Captain?”

Fachnan exhaled, tapping the stray ash onto the floor. Sullying it.

Asshole.

“Ah, Heather. I was hoping you’d stay in that dungeon for a little while longer. I find it’s easier to take in your trophies without you drooling all over them. We were stopping here for a short time and well, I figured I’d drop by.”

“Mhm…sure.”

The twitch in Fachnan’s hand and dart of his eyes didn’t exactly scream “casual chat”.

“Why’re you really here, and make it quick. You’re getting ash all over my perfectly good carpet. I do try to keep an air of respectability here.”

“My apologies, your majesty, I’ll be sure to clean your lair to a shine.”

Heather’s jaw tensed, teeth close to grinding. Unnecessary stress meant unnecessary aging, deep breaths in, deep breaths out. She forced herself to relax, schooling her expression into neutral disdain.

“False deference doesn’t suit you, Captain. I’d get your nose off of the floor before I lose my patience.”

“Fine, fine. Since you’re in a hurry I’ll make it quick.”

Fachnan gestured wide, splaying himself across the couch in her office with all the grace and respect she’d come to expect. Letting out a sigh, Heather grabbed the first open bottle of wine she could find and poured some out. Counting down the minutes until he left.

“The reason for my visit is simple, I want to do you a favor.”

She arched her brow, sipping at her glass.

“You’ve just been a source of income for me, Lady of the Sea. Owe at least some of my success to you. I’ve got a tip you might be interested in, for a small price, of course. Can’t just give this sort of thing to any ametuer.”

Actively sending Charles out on another hunt before she could properly chastise him for damaging this merchandise? She’d pass.

Besides, she paid Fachnan for tangible work. If she threw her fortune any idiot who walked in promising a lead, she’d have exhausted her coiffers long ago. Her decades of experience were worth far more than what one measly captain thought he knew.

“Charming, but I’m not looking to take on another project or search for one at the moment. Frankly, I don't like drawing more attention to myself than necessary. You know how these new officers get, all bright eyed and full of belief in ‘law and order’. The guard’s changed in the past few years, and I’m not exactly looking to make any waves at present. The fewer bodies, the better.”

She sipped at her wine once more, mulling over the best way to politely but firmly tell Fachnan to fuck off. Alone time was calling her name like the sirens she cut to ribbons.

“Well that’s a shame. Here I thought you were interested in a shark mer. Guess not then.”

With an inhale, the wine went down her throat and Heather choked and coughed. It burned all the way up to her sinuses, but nothing compared to the spark of interest. Still catching her breath, she unlatched a compartment in the desk behind her, pulling out a sharpened knife and setting it on the wood beside her.

He could lie or take out his sword if he wanted, but her reputation spoke for itself. There’d be one winner here.

“I see I have your attention then,” he smirked, “I’ll admit, the gold was a bluff. This one’s on the house.”

“Bullshit. What do you want?”

“Fine, this mer in question is something of… a thorn in my side. You taking care of her would be doing me a service, Madame Butcher. She appears to be a hybrid, if that sweetens the deal.”

It did. Quite a bit in fact.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Dead certain. Last saw her face off the coast of Paign. Goes by the name of Delta. About seven feet tall, blue fins, blue coat, she’s fairly hard to miss. Has a whole crew of mer from what I could tell.”

A whole crew… she let out a breath.

“No shit. Typically I don’t get in the middle of feuds, or do bounty work for that matter, but just this once? I think I can agree with that. In fact…”

Heather stood up, walking over to a mahogany cabinet, carved with intricate flowers and vines. An inherited piece, and not even a forced one. They’d handed it over after the funeral, which was well and good. Natural causes were less messy to deal with generally speaking. She pressed the central-most flower’s petals and the compartment toward the bottom opened up, shining vials revealed within it.

“A gift, to a valuable partner. For your health.”

She held out a crimson vial. Heart blood.

“I’d like to keep my more reliable freelancer at sea for a few more years.”

Seconds ticked by, and Fachnan shook his head, “No, like I said. This one’s free. I just want her gone.”

Pirates and their honor codes. She rolled her eyes and set the vial back into its case.

Although speaking of…

“By the way, how’s that associate of yours doing? Changed his tune yet? I know he’s got quite the reputation for finding what he’s looking for. I’d like to use his expertise.”

Deep lines set into Fachnan’s face as he glanced away. Shoulders lowered. His bravado evaporated leaving behind only bitter salt.

“He and I won’t be seeing each other any time soon, gods willing. My only hope is it was quick.”

Ah. So it was like that then.

“I see, I apologize. I’ve been rather busy as of late, haven’t kept up with the times. My condolences for your loss.”

He grit his teeth, expression darkening further.

“It was his decision. We parted ways some time ago. He knew the risks of going soft, and look where it got him.”

“Well, that is how it is sometimes. Connections come and connections go. Time stops for a lucky few.”

The dots weren’t hard to connect, as hard as Fachnan fought to keep his aloof persona intact. Whatever drama or series of events led to this, frankly she didn’t care. What mattered was her prize. He could mourn his lost flame all he wanted on his own time.

With the last of his cigar fully gone, Fachnan stared at the embers before standing up from the couch, lifting his chin to look down at her. She met his gaze with a smile every bit as sharp as her tools.

“I’ll be heading off then. Send word when you need my services again.”

“Oh I will, don’t you worry. Thank you for stopping by, your help is much appreciated.”

He didn’t respond, only turning for the door and leaving Heather alone with her wine and her thoughts. Her smile stretched wider across her face and she let out a laugh, growing in intensity as euphoria set in.

A shark. A shark hybrid.

Looked like she’d have to clear her schedule to ensure that this… Delta could get all the attention that Heather could offer. Get the care and quality work that she deserved as the future crown jewel of her collection.

Morro could be rest assured that their suffering would be brief. She had preparations to make.

[prettyboisteveharrington]

Return To Sender

Next Chapter

Chapter one - With a little help

Drake Walker x Rose Thorne ( MC)

WC: 4,1K

Summery: When Rose Thorne gets a second chance to be back in Cordonia and be back with Drake- Will he be able to be with her or will the risk of hurting his best friend be too much for him to bare?

(Rewrite of the royal romance book two with a focus on the romance between Drake and Mc plus friendships)

While sitting at the Cordonian airport you looked out through the windows with your head in your hands and tears streaming down on your face. In the last eight months you had come to fall in love with Cordonia both it's people and the people you had met through your journey.

You were going to miss Hana – the beautiful and talented Hana who had truly become your bestest friend. You were going to miss sneaking down in the kitchen at 3 am with her to make hot chocolate filled with whipped cream and soo many delicious marshmallows.

You were going to miss Maxwell's high energy and jumping on the massive beds with him and Bertrand scolding you both. You were going to miss how gentle of a person Liam was, he was always good company and he had a lot of trust in him which was something you admired.

You remembered your mother's final words before she and you left your family home after her and your father had gone through a messy divorce.

Trust is not something you can ever give away freely Rosaline, It must be earned

But the person you were going to miss the very most out of everyone was Drake. Funny, sarcastic but underneath that harsh layer was a much softer side of Drake that he only showed to the people who really mattered. In the very beginning he had fascinated you and drew you in but you had really started to fall for him after he had let down his guard around you and you had spend more time together just the two of you.

You wish you had gotten a chance to explore the magnetism you both obviously felt for each other however you knew he was hesitant to fully be with you because of Liam.

Now boarding economy class for passengers of flight PB205 to New York City...

'Well I guess that's me... Goodbye Cordonia' you said and wishfully looked out the window one last time to say goodbye.

The palace guards who had escorted you to the airport were watching closely.

You look through your bag for your boarding pass when you hear a familiar voice

'Rose! Wait!'

you turn around to see Maxwell and Bertrand running towards you before they are stopped by the palace guards

'you will keep your hands to yourselves. I am the Duke of Ramsford!' Bertrand says clearly agitated

After hearing that Bertrand and Maxwell are noble the guards back off and they both rush over to you

'Rose!' Maxwell exclaims before pulling you into a strong embrace, you hug him back tenderly

'I hope you came here to help me?' you asks anxiously, but you are hopeful that there's still hope for you to go back to Cordonia, to your friends.

' Kind off? We don't have any concreate answers for you but we are both here for you and of course we both believe that you had nothing to do with the scandal' Maxwell says trying to reassure you.

'Really? Both of you believe me? Even Bertrand' you ask sceptically as you look over at Bertrand who doesn't look fully convinced of your innocence.

' Lady Rose ... Did you have a romantic relationship with Tariq behind close doors?'

'Bertrand of course she didn't! It was a set up' Maxwell says shocked at how his brother is behaving

Bertrand looks over at Maxwell then back at you

'Maxwell let her answer for herself. I need to hear the truth from her'

' Bertrand... I never had a romantic relationship with Tariq. But I think I'm falling in love with someone else..' You say and look down at the ground, you take a deep breath before you look back up and Maxwell mouths 'Drake?' you look at him with a different ray of emotions shock, fear then disbelief before you mouth back ' how did you know?' and Maxwell shrugs smugly.

'Now now children we have important things we must discuss' Bertrand scolds both of you.

' What do you suggest we do' you ask in a serious tone of voice

'We want to take you back to Cordonia'

' Well you were clearly set up. We will not take this laying down. No one smears the name of House Beaumont' Bertrand says with determination

'But Liam chose someone else'

'There's a constitutional provision that states the king can change his mind under certain circumstances. It it hard to change but it isn't impossible. Whoever is plotting against you wish you unwell and we must stop them immediately' .

'Really? You would do all of this for me?' you ask feeling both gratitude and a bit overwhelmed

' You aren't to blame Lady Rose. The Court shouldn't have reacted so harshly and those culprits who set you up need to pay for this. House Beaumont supports you unequivocally and we are on your side until the bitter end'

You pull Bertrand into a hug and Maxwell joins you before yelling 'GROUP HUG'

Maxwell and Bertrand inform you that clearing your name isn't going to be a piece of cake but that they will do anything they can to help you prove your innocence. They fill you in on the fact that for you to have the best chances to clear your name you must join Madeleine's engagement tour.

'What do you say Rose? You want to go back and clear your name and find the love of your life

that would otherwise be lost forever' Maxwell says overly dramatic for show and normally you would giggle but you need to think about this

You want to go back to court and clear your name more than anything, to see your friends again and see Drake more than anything, but you are scared.

What if it doesn't work? What if they are better off without you? Your fingers tremble as you put a bit of your hair behind your ear and you take a deep breath.

You got this. You can do it.

Final call for economy class passengers of flight PB205 to New York City... final call...

'Bertrand, take my bag!! let's get this show on the road'

Bertrand looks at you clearly flabbergasted.

'your b- your bag!!'

you give him your best puppy dog eyes.

'just this once? Pretty please? It is a very important occasion'

Bertrand rolls his eyes and reluctantly agrees before reminding you that it won't be a reoccurring thing.

'After what happened earlier I didn't think I would see any of you again let alone hear from you. I thought you had given up on me' you express sadly as you, Maxwell and Bertrand make your way towards the limo.

'We would never leave you behind!We came as soon as we could but security had split us up into separate holding rooms until Bertrand gave them a mouthful and demanded we were let go' Maxwell says and you crack a smile for the first time all night since arriving at the airport.

'No one treats the Duke of Ramsford or house Beaumont with anything less than respect.. Get in the limo. We have a lot of work to do before the welcome party at Madeleine's estate.

' Sr yes sir' you say playfully before you get into the limo.

The next six weeks is spent rebuilding your image and going over etiquette so you know how to describe food, learning to perfect your quickstep and what forks to use for which meals, you're missing everyone dearly but you have been told minimal contact with your friends is for the best at

the moment and no one has reached out to you and it hurts.

You miss Hana dearly but she must be home with her parents now and that must have taken a toll on her. Liam must be busy with his engagement and his princely duties. Drakes withdrawal hurts the most, there was something real between you and you cannot believe he hasn't sent as much as a text message. Do you not matter to him as much as he matters to you?

You also spend the next six weeks physically changing your image, new gowns are bought for the upcoming tour, Maxwell and Bertrand got a family friend who happened to be a stylist into the Beaumont estate and she gives your hair a transformation from red hair to black hair with blue ombre tips, you absolutely adore your new look, it feels like such a needed change, like a rebirth. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

The day of Madeleine's welcome party arrives and you are beyond nervous, why do you care so much what the people at court will think of you re-entering society?

You suppose the only opinions you actually care about is your friends, you didn't have the best up brining with a lot of friends and you absolute hated being in big crowds as it always triggered your social anxiety.

You look outside at Madeleine's estate from the windows you take in the beautiful fountain, the rose bushes and the lush green grass and sigh.

Maxwell knocks on your door later in the afternoon.

'Rose?' He asks gently when you look towards the door.

'come in' you say silently and look back out the window.

Maxwell senses your distress and goes over and sits down next to you.

'what's on your mind?' Maxwell asks you softly as he puts his hand lightly on top of yours.

'I really am that transparent aren't I?' you asks and sigh

' Only because I know my bestest friend'

' It's been almost two months since I've heard from anyone besides you and Bertrand.. I thought at least.. '

'Drake would have reached out?' Maxwell finishes the sentence for you and gives you a knowing look.

you nod and lean your head on his shoulder and avoid his gaze that you can feel lingering on you.

' To be fair, Drake usually keeps to himself.. sometimes months go by before we talk. You know how much nobles drain him'

' oh' is the best response you can muster at the moment as it feels like a knife has been twisted into your stomach.

What if you won't hear from Drake for months or ever again? Just thinking about it hurts so much. Before Maxwell has any time to reassure you Bertrand enters your room

' Lady Rose, you need to get ready for the welcome party. Remember this is your grand re-entrance to courtly society. You must look impeccable'

Bertrand hands you an elegant blue dress and you go to the bathroom and change into it. You take in yourself in the dress in the mirror, the dress accentuates your chest without being too lowcut and it hugs your curves in all the right places. The dress isn't something you would have ever chosen for yourself but it's very pretty, it's knee length, silk and it has beautiful sequins on the bottom of the dress.

As you walk out both Bertrand and Maxwell reassure you that you look absolutely gorgeous and you smile at them before thanking them for them dress before walking out of your room and towards the party.

Once the doors open to the grand hall of Madeleine's manor you can hear people gasping and whispering and they are staring at you. You notice the press looking at you as well. It's showtime.

You plaster a fake smile on your face as you enter the grand hall and you squeeze Maxwell's arm for support and he grins at you.

'You're doing well Rose'

'Thank you Max' you say thankfully and try to relax at least a little

you manage to curtsy and introduce yourself to Madeleine's mother, catch up with Penelope and Kiara and you find out they are part of Madeleine's bachelorette party. You congratulate Madeleine on her engagement with Liam and somehow you manage not to get frustrated too much by Madeleine's rude behaviour. You definitely don't care enough about her to care what she thinks of you.

As you turn around you see Liam for the first time in two months and while you don't harbour any romantic feelings for him, you still care about him and want to free him from Madeleine.

'Lady Rose I was not expecting to see you...' Liam says shocked

'Liam! I missed you'

'I've.. I've missed you too' he says and looks at you with a sad expression on his face.

'we need to --'

Liam is interrupted by Madeleine as she puts her hand on his arm and leans in to kiss his cheek before she guides him away.

You and Maxwell walk around the room and you lean in and say ' if Drake comes back at court then

I need to tell Liam the truth. He deserves to know that while I do care for him that I do not love him. He deserves that much. He doesn't deserve to be lead on'.

'I know you want to let him know and you should Rose but I think you should wait until you have spoken with Drake until you make up your mind'

'I don't want to hurt Liam or get his hopes up, but I do need to talk to Drake first'

Maxwell guides you over to the table Bertrand is sitting at and you all share your information that you have learned tonight, you learn that Tariq has left court and the best way to clear your name is to make him make a statement of what really happened the night he was tricked into your room under false pretences. Both of you were played and clearly whoever is behind this wanted him out of court so he couldn't tell everyone the truth.

As you lie in bed at night and stare at the ceiling you sigh, you just want this whole scandal thing to be over, you want to start over in Cordonia not as a queen but as one of the people. You wish Hana and Drake were here right now as you miss them dearly.

If things are real between you and Drake you want to find out in whatever shape it can take, all you know right now is that you long for more time with him.

You wonder when he will return to court and if at he will be back soon at all. As much as your heart yearns for him most of all you miss the group hangouts with him and his friendship.

You wake up the next morning to a soft knock on the door, you yawn and stretch before you go over to the door to open it

'Max.. isn't this kind of ear-'

'Rose!!'

You gawk at the person standing in the doorway, it isn't Maxwell it's Hana. You didn't think you would see her again. You thought she would be back home with her dreadful and controlling parents.

You have spent many nights worried for your best friend and her well being, now that she's standing in front of you it feels like an illusion or a dream.

You grab her waist gently and pull her into a bone crushing hug and she hugs you back just as fiercely.

'oh Hana! I missed you so much' you exclaim happily as you still hang onto her for dear life.

' I missed you too'

as you slowly let go of her you go to sit down on your bed and she follows you and sit down across from you.

' I was so worried that you weren't coming back'

' To be honest I didn't think I was either. '

'Does your parents know you're here?

'I'm here with their blessing actually. Countess Madeleine called my father and invited me to stay in Cordonia as part of the wedding party and she promised my parents she would help me find a match worthy of the family name'

'Oh Hana that's great! It is great right??...Wait.. Is this what you really want?'

You were so happy she was back but the pressure of her finding someone and her parents expectations for her were too much pressure. Plus it was highly unlikely they approved of the two of you being friends after the scandal and because you encouraged her to be free instead of caged in like some sort of bird.

Hana seems to think about her response for a minute.

' When I heard you were coming back I couldn't get back to Cordonia fast enough. You are the real reason I want to be here'

You put your hand on top of hers and smiled. It truly was good to see her.

'What made you decide to come back?'

' Well my decision to come back was threefold really, I want to clear my name and save Liam from Madeleine because he deserves better and I really want to spend more time with -'

'Drake?' Hana adds and nudges her shoulder into yours

' That obvious huh?'

' I mean it's the way you look at each other when you think no one is looking'

'Oh' you feel your cheeks get warm and you smile widely

'I want to help you clear your name Rose, I hate the idea of anyone scheming against you... anyway.. Have you seen Drake yet? He wouldn't stop talking about how we need to stop the people who are scheming against you'

Ohhh. So he did want to talk to you? You wondered why he hadn't reached out yet. Wondered if he was okay. You missed his grumpy face.

Before you can answer Hana there's a knock on the door and you open it to reveal Maxwell and he lights up when he sees Hana, he rushes over to her and pull her into a hug, you join them.

' I feared we wouldn't see you ever again! Bertrand was convinced you were gone for good'

' It's really good to see you as well Max' Hana says earnestly

Hana, you and Maxwell head to the estate's boutique together so both you and Hana can get ready for Madeleine's engagement party. Changing is for sure more fun when you are around your bestest friend. Maxwell leaves to prep things for later with Bertrand.

You look through the different dresses for something nice to wear.

' So... you've been here for the last day.. how has everything been?'

' Oh so much better now that you are here' you admit you have missed her so so very much

'I came just in time then' Hana smiles at you before squeezing your shoulder softly

' Promise me we will always keep in touch.. Hana, I can't do any of this without you near me' you admit shyly as Hana finds you a gorgeous pink dress for you to try on.

' I will do my very best to make sure that won't happen' she reassures you as you turn around and go into the changing room.

Once you have tried the dress on you show it to Hana, it's a white silk dress with pastel pink lace over it, it's knee length with short sleeves. Hana helps you sip up the dress

' Soo.. what do we think of the dress?' you say and twirl

' You look like you're ready to knock them all out with your beauty'

' Thank you Hana, you are far too kind.. I never got the chance to ask you but.. how does your parents feel about us being friends after everything that has happened recently?' you ask nervously, you hope Hana hasn't been upset because your friendship.

' they haven't been too happy I'm afraid'

' Should I keep my distance until the scandal dies down?' you ask in a wounded tone of voice

You don't want to stay away from your best friend but you also don't want to to cause her any more harm than your kindship has probably already caused her. You will stay away from her if you must but the thought saddens you deeply.

' my parents are dear to me.. But they cannot stop us from being close'

'I'm proud of you for standing your ground. I know how hard that can be'

Hana goes into the dressing room and comes out in a beautiful pink dress that's made out of silk, you lock elbows with each other and head out of the boutique.

Once you and Hana reach the lawn outside Madeleine's grounds Madeleine spots the two of you and she looks furious for a minute before her expression becomes stoic. Madeleine makes a toast thanking her mother, the king and queen and Liam. Madeleine is obviously trying to make you jealous as she kisses Liam's cheek but you just resist the urge to roll your eyes, if she only knew where your heart belonged...

Madeleine approaches you to remind you that because of her Hana is back and that you should both be grateful to her, you thank her in a sarcastic voice, if she ever hurts Hana you will pounce. No one gets to hurt her and you do not trust Madeleine, not around Liam and certainly not around Hana.

Liam comes over and join your conversation, he's happy to see Hana again, he mentions that it's good to see you as well and says that you're beautiful and you smile at him. Once he leaves Madeleine reminds you that he belongs to her especially when they are out in public.

You resist to roll your eyes at her and once she leaves you and Hana burst out laughing.

' If she only knew the truth' Hana comments and you giggle again.

Bertrand and Maxwell comes to escort you and Hana away from the crowd and into the ball room to talk to you. It seems very urgent so you agree and follow them, once you reach the ballroom you give them a serious look.

'what's the matter? You ask cautiously

' Tariq's not just out of court, it appears that he is out of the country so finding him will not be easy' Bertrand confirms what you had already feared. Clearing your name will be so much harder now.

'Madeleine doesn't seem to know were he is either.. If what she says is the truth.. what do we do now?'

' At the moment there isn't much for us to investigate... however our next stop is Applewood Manor where the photos were taken.. I believe there must be clues there. In fact we are going to head up there before the tour does. Once the festivities end we will go there'.

You and Hana head up to your bedroom with cinnamon, cups, chocolate powder, marshmallows, whipped cream and milk to make hot chocolate. While Hana makes you both a cup of hot chocolate you two catch up on lost time. It's good to be in her presence again.

Hana lets you know that her parents where disappointed with her performance during the courting season and that they limited her access to the outside world after, you feel angry on her behalf and upset that it might have been because of your influence. You let Hana know that if she ever needs anything that you have her back and you apologize if your actions hurt her but she reassures you that it was not your fault. The two of you decide to talk about happier things but the guilt you feel for how she was treated hurts your heart deeply.

'What qualities do you look for in a future partner.. And what drew you in particular to Drake?' Hana asks you shyly

you look at her for a moment taking in her expression. You wonder if she has ever had many boyfriends or even girlfriends before her previous engagement.

You have dated a few men and women and you have been attacked to different looks and different personalities. But there has always been one common personality trait that's drawn you in the most.

' I take it you haven't dated much?' you ask softly

'Only my ex finance really and that didn't end very successfully' Hana says earnestly.

' I've been attracted to different things in the past but the one common trait they all had was that they were kind. Drake is -despite being very grumpy at times – very kind, he's funny, fiercely loyal and overall he's just a total softy' you say and look at her warmly

' When it comes to dating Hana go for the person who makes you happy, who values you and treasures your connection'

' I shall think of that next time someone catches my eye'

'And Hana?' you ask as you put your hand on hers and squeezes it gently

'Yes Rose?'

'Don't settle for less than you deserve, you are funny, sweet, extremely talented and you deserve the world... Don't ever forget that'

Hana seems speechless so she nods and puts her head on your shoulder.

In the evening you decide to go for an evening walk around the grounds, you spot someone in the darkness, he's dark haired, tall and in a jean jacket -

'Dr- Drake!' you exclaim and as the person turns around you see that is Drake.

[miutonium]

Silly little meow meows 🥼🧪