#i love this story but i dont know how to write it

[lolitasangel]

CHURCH- Noah NSFW MDNI 18+

I posted a little thought that made some people go a little feral….oops…definitely didnt plan that…

I didn’t want to keep yall waiting for the smut so I made the back story as small as I could so you guys can enjoy.

And all the attention this is getting is making me nervous so, also I’m high so nothing is proof read, I’m high and I’m rereading all that I’m sorry

TW- hair pulling, corruption, dumbification if you will

Tag list- @yarasdead @bluestdai @english-fucker @fadingintothegrey

Sunday Morning-

You had just moved to this town a few weeks ago, you had spent forever trying to convince your parents to let you move out. You were fairly innocent, your parents wanted to keep it that way. Their sweet little girl, never kissed anyone, never had sex, never touched your self, never watched porn,you were pure.

You were aware of what sex was, masterbating , you just never did it, it was a sin, and swore to your God you would stay innocent and pure and you promised your mom and dad it would stay that way, you just wanted to expand on your location, grow up a bit more.

Walking into your new church, looking around at the beautiful statues, murals, it was all so beautiful, the rows of seats, the choir stage huge, the podium standing tall in the center demanding all of your attention.

You were noticed by everyone, a new comer, it was kind of a small town, everyone here was so kind.

You were now standing outside in the front yard of the church communicating with church choir students, all so respectful.

He saw you standing there in your sundress, short heels, a beautiful pink and white dress, resting on your upper thighs, showing your beautiful skin, the way the sun blew some of your hair, revealing your neck line.

He had never wanted someone like this, of course he has had sex with countless woman before moving to this town years ago. But, its been so long since he’s fucked someone, since he has had his hands on someone. He had an image to upload, he was a priest, under god.

He could tell by the way you talked, walked, sat, addressed others, you were raised innocently by your folks. He wanted to change that, you belonged to him, as soon as he set his eyes on you he wanted to corrupt in ways you couldn’t even image.

“Hello, I am Father Noah, I am the priest here at the church, I have never seen you here before, I am guessing you’re new to town?” Father Noah gave you a kind smile. You had never seen someone so handsome before, or tall. “Hi, Im Y/N, I’m from Y/C” “Oh that is very far away, I will be more than happy to show you around if you like”

That’s how it started, months ago, each meeting up at the bookstore he introduced you too, learning that you loved to read and write. Always holding you by the waist “You’re too small, you could get lost in the crowds, I dont want you to get lost and scared” that was his excuse as to why you were always pulled close to him, never realizing that it was more of a possessive thing, letting others know that you belonged to him.

No one in town knew his plan, they just thought “what a sweet couple” not knowing he was planning to corrupt you and have you worship him instead.

“Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? I can cook us dinner, we can watch a movie, and relax.”

It was Sunday, Easter, you decided to volunteer and help set the Easter egg hunt up for the kids. You were wearing another sundress, except the collar was a little shorter than usual, Noah noticed it immediately, he noticed every new little thing you changed about your self.

Looking up from the table you sat at outside the church, watching the kids run around and play. You looked to your left and saw Noah standing at the front of the church greeting the adults walking in and out the church.

Feeling someone’s eyes on him, Noah turns to the right, catching your eye, looking away blushing.

You didnt mean to be caught watching him, he just looked so handsome today, he normally his hair up in a low bun, but, he cut it off, all of it, he looked so handsome with short hair, slicked back. Lately you had these feelings, of course you knew you had feelings for him, but you were experiencing different feelings too, horny feelings.

Of course you were familiar with the sensation, you never acted upon it, you never dreamed of it, until last night.

Take dream was about him, Father Noah, and you felt so guilty, so ashamed, it was a sin to do that, and to even have that kind of dream about a friend, your priest at your church. You felt so ashamed and guilty.

And this new hair cut didnt help. You hear footsteps in the grass next to get louder, and a arm thrown your waist. Looking up at him, you didnt know that he had cut his hair until you saw him at the door, seeing him up close like that though, you could start to feel your core get wetter, and wetter for him.

“Hi, Y/N, thanks for throwing in a helping hand, it means a lot to the church and I that you did that, especially in that dress” of course he didnt say that last part out loud, he couldn’t let you know about his plans. “You cut your um, you cut your hair?” Noah sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck chuckling “Yea, thought it was time” You noticed as you looked up at his tall figure, you started to trail down to his neck, not realizing what you were doing, you touched his collar of his priest suit, before you continue you snap out of it, “I-I am so sorry, I dont know what i was doing, im so sorry” you rambled on

God, she truly is gorgeous Noah thought to himself. Before you could continue, Noah interrupts you “Would you like to come over and have dinner with me? I can cook and you can pick out a movie for us to watch, you should relax from the long day today” you were shocked, of course, yes you wanted to “yes, i would love to” “Great, I can pick you up if you would like, so you can change and feel comfortable”

Father Noah is so caring, and considerate, you thought to yourself.

After the both of you clean up your messes, saying good bye to everyone, Father Noah walks you hold, arm once again wrapped around your waist. “I’ll pick you up around 7 so that way you have to time to get ready, maybe even a nap, you work too hard, I want you to take a shower and relax before you get ready, understand?” you couldn’t help but blush from the caring yet stern voice. You had never heard that from him before he was always so gentle spoken, you could feel that tingle going back down to your core again.

Stop it, this is a sin

You thought to your self, felt so ashamed by it, feeling a hand on your chin, making you look up at Father Noah “what’s wrong, angel?” He looked at you with a look like it said you can tell me, I’ll take care of you

Looking away again, turning your attention to your rose bush next to your front door “could I talk to you about something, I…I committed a sin..” you felt so guilty, horrible, to something so wrong, of course it wasn’t your fault, you were asleep, it was your dreams fault, but it won’t disappear

Noah, pulling you off of him, making you look at him by your hair “what’s wrong, doll? Too dumb to know how to suck cock? It’s okay, I’ll help you, I thought I told you to behave, and that I would teach you but no, here you are acting up, you need to listen to what I have to say to know what to do, you’re too dumb to know what to do,remember?”

You wanted more of him, to taste him, and make him proud

Chuckling he realized how much you really wanted to make him proud that he got you and no one else

Trying to suck his cock further down your throat, moaning, it felt so nice to finally have him in your mouth, you had been craving it all week long

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You zoned out there for a bit” you looked up at him “I just feel guilty” Noah gave you a reassuring smile “don’t worry, I’ll help you repent them, we can talk about when we have dinner” you nodded your head

Inside your house :)

After you took a shower, you layed down on your bed, still in your towel, you look over at your phone, you had changed your background to a photo that Noah took of you both.

You in a flowered printed dress and Noah in is priest uniform, both at the book shop, in a mirror, he had a gentle smile, as you looked at the photo you realized, he had something green poking out the collar on his neck

Your mom and dad told you tattoos were also bad, it was like changing your body in a horrifying painful way.

You came to the realization that maybe, he had fallen at one point, repented and got help! Yes! That’s it! He has to know what to do, but, how would he feel knowing you had those dreams about him…oh god… you thought to yourself.

You hated to admit it but, you thought tattoos looked…dare you say,hot?

You knew it was wrong but you loved how they looked, you hated the process though…and you knew it was bad but…you can’t help that… you thought to your self.

The longer you stared at his hands the longer you started to think of him again.

What they would feel like on your thighs, your throat, in your mouth

Stop it, stop it

You kept thinking to yourself, you decided to then get ready to distract yourself. You were rummaging through your dresser and closet.

None of these dresses work, you decided that a flowy maroon Minnie skirt and a white shirt would work fine, getting your shoes on, touching up your make up, and hair up in a pony tail, your hair framing your face. You heard a knock

Running over to the door to open it you see Noah, still in his church attire, you were secretly hoping he would wear something different, you wanted to know if the tattoos expanded, and if he repented and regrets them.

“You look beautiful” blushing, you walk outside with him, you lock your door, make sure you have everything one last time, and take off with Noah

——————————

Walking up to the front door his house, he unlocks the door, welcoming you in first, before walking in after you and locking the door.

You take your shoes off and look around.

The living room was beautiful, a black couch and a matching love seat, a huge tv screen propped up on the wall with a fireplace beneath it.

Looking on the opposite side of the living room you see the kitchen, an island with bar stools, pantry’s, pots hung up from the ceiling.

Gently grabbing your waste he walks you to the tv, “Pick whatever you want to watch while I cook, I’ll be making spaghetti, I heard you tell the girls you’ve been craving it” you blushed looking away, you were hoping he didn’t hear the girls also say how you two would be a nice couple.

You picked a show but decided it would be rude not to help Noah cook, you walk over to the kitchen and freeze in place.

Father Noah’s white collar was off, and unbuttoned, he had rolled up his black sleeves and was grabbing the ingredients for the spaghetti. Feeling someone watching him he turned around.

“Oh didn’t see you there, would you like some wine? I have many kinds if you would like” you were still shocked on hot he looked standing there, deciding wine would help loosed up your nerves a bit you agreed. “Perfect, I’ll go get it now” while he walked down the hall to fetch the wine you took this time to gather your thoughts

He has tattoos

He’s hot

He cut his hair

He’s hot

You need to tell him about the dreams

He’s hot

You need to repent your sins

He’s hot

The whole nine yards, just back and fourth in your head.

Hearing footsteps you push those thoughts away you help him lay out the ingredients, “go sit down, and I’ll cook” he told you, objecting you told him that you wanted to help but you weren’t the best cook,

Noah saw this as an opportunity, and he was gonna take it, now.

“Here, you can cut the garlic for the sauce” he gave you a cutting board and knife. Keeping a close eye on you, he’s heard horror stories from you about how everytime you are a kitchen you manage to hurt yourself somehow. Watching you grab the knife not realizing the sharp side was facing up, about to press your left hand down on the blade to cut the garlic, he moved quickly over to you. “Wait,wait” stoping what you were doing you looked at him confused.

Walking up behind you, pressing his whole body against yours, running his hands down your arms, to your wrist, to your hand grabbing it, mouth close to your ear whispering “baby, you can’t hold a knife like that, that’s how you get hurt” after fixing the position you had of the knife, you felt him slip away, but you could’ve sworn his hand swept down and stroked your ass, you could’ve sworn.

It must’ve been an accident, had to have been. Father Noah wouldn’t do that, he’s not like that..

After the food is cooked and you both eat, Noah takes you by the hands and leads you to the living room, pouring another glass of wine. “You mentioned earlier that, you committed, a sin, of some sorts, would it be okay if we talked about that now?” Noah asked sitting across from you on the other side, giving you hit full attention.

You looked down fiddling with your skirt, you sat with your legs pulled to the side of you, “I had, I feel so bad” you mumbled, you felt your hand being pulled gently, behind held.

Tilting your head up, you see Noah giving you a reassuring smile. “If you want to repent, I can help you, after all, I am a priest, and it’s my job to help people, aren’t I” he asked, tilting his head to the side, that last part with a bit of a tone, don’t forget your place, I am closer to god than you”

Sighing, you nodded your head “I had a dream…and I did something bad in it and it feels wrong”smiling, Noah nodded his head, “see that wasn’t so hard to say” shaking your head you stand up “no,no, the dream was about you, it was a dirty dream….im really sorry Father Noah, it just happened and I didn’t mean for it to happen” Noah sighed, looking back at you, grabbing your hand, placing you in his lap.

You were shocked, you had never sat it in a dudes lap before, and you didn’t think the priest of your church would do that, much less Noah.

“Why don’t you tell me about the dream.” Noah whispered in your ear, he sounded so serious, and stern. Your back was facing his front, not realizing you were sitting directly on his cock, it’s taking everything in his system to not get hard, just from the thought of you in his lap, but to have also had a wet dream about him? Oh he is about to have you worshiping him by the end of the night.

Pulling you closer to his chest, you leaning your head back on his shoulder, him in the crook of your neck.

This felt so wrong, you weren’t married, you weren’t even dating.

Yet here you are in a priests house, his lap even, and he is a very good man, and he’s been in the church for a while so maybe, maybe this was normal?

It was a priest willing to help you repent, and help you with your dirty thoughts, so it couldn’t have been wrong.

You were coming up with different reasons, you are so innocent, you have no clue what’s gonna happen to you.

He was in the church longer than you, maybe it was wrong cause you weren’t married but it was okay if it was someone directly under god…that made sense…right?

Oh how naive of you…

Feeling hands rubbing your inner thighs, you started to get that tingly feeling again.

Oh god

“Tell me about the dream, it’s okay, I’m your priest and your friend, I can’t help you.” He whispered in your ear.

“I…I was on my knees…in front of you…” you were very hesitant to tell him, you’ve already been on edge for days because of him, you could feel your core start to throb.

“Keep going, baby” he said, running his hands up and down your thighs, he was speaking so gently, yet so close, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me” he whispered, leaving a small kiss on your neck.

“I was naked, and I was doing something…”

Noah was loving all of this, here he was with an elaborate plan, just for your brain to do half the work of what he was gonna need to do..he was now pulsating, he was sure you could feel it, with how close you were to him.”what were you doing, baby doll?” You started to fidget, you could feel his cock pressed right up against your core, one wrong move you were cooked.

“I was um….my mouth was on your um….you know, and you were saying things…”

Noah leaned away from you groaning, he was not expecting that, he expected a hand job, but naked, pulling your hair, giving him a blow job.

Noah could die a happy man.

You on the hand just wanted to die, you cant believe this is happening, you probably made him uncomfortable, you probably ruined a relationship,, you wanted the world to swallow you whole.

“Come on, baby doll” You stand up confused, Noah groans, grabbing his glass of wine, and your hand. Leading you down the hall, he brings you to his office. Noah opens the door welcoming you in,leading you to chair behind his desk, sitting down he pulls you onto his lap, straddling his waist.

Noah grabs your chin, gently forcing you two to make eye contact, he flashes you a smile, you feeling shy look away, “look at me, I’m not disappointed or mad” you look back up, realizing, he’s wearing grills?

You didn’t realize he was wearing grills, they looked good on him.

You didn’t realize it but you gently lift your hand to his mouth, pulling his bottom lip down, taking a closer look at them, they looked really nice. Noah started to smirk, looking away, you stuttered “I’m sorry”

Noah shook his head “you don’t have to apologize, I’m starting to realize, you’re very shy about a lot of things, baby doll” you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a closer look at his tattoo, tracing it.

“Baby doll, you have to finish telling me about your dream”

Your eyes widen, slipping your mind of what caused you to be in this situation.

You decided that you were just gonna let it all out, he was a priest and your friend like he said so, he couldn’t be too mad.

“Well, in the dream, you were sitting in my bed and I was naked and sucking you off or something and you were pulling my hair and telling me I was going a good job, and I really liked it and it made me feel horny down there but, I didn’t do anything I swear, I didn’t commit that sin, Father Noah, I really didn’t!” You let out, panting from how quick you spoke.

You hid your face closer to his neck, to scared to see his reaction, not even wanting to look anywhere near his face out of fright of what he might think.

Not saying a word, Noah wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your ass, silently walking to his bed room.

Grabbing a chair, sitting it in front of a mirror, he stands you up, looking at you in the mirror, giving you a smile. “You’ve been a very very good girl, baby. You didn’t give in to those dirty thoughts, you deserve some pleasure. Even better that it’s from your friend and your priest. I can help you repent baby”

Grabbing your waist gently, sliding his hands up your thighs to your hips, grabbing you pants, gently pulling them down. Shoving them in his pocket (you will never get these back) sitting you down on his lap. Noah spreads his legs, as well as spreading your own.

Reaching around you, pulling your skirt up, to reveal your pussy, your thighs were soaked from your wetness. Noah groaning from the sight, he wanted to taste you, and nothing was stopping him now.

You started to reach down towards your core, rubbing your clit gently, it felt so good to finally touch yourself, you started to realize it wasn’t wrong cause it was Noah, and he was always helping you. He knew what to do, always had the answers to your questions, he always treated you right.

You wanted to make him proud, so you continue to play with yourself. You could feel yourself close to some sort of relief but you couldn’t quite get to that point.

Leaning forward into your ear he whispers “I want you to play with yourself, it’s your reward from me, remember, after all you came to me for help, that man in sky isn’t your god, I am baby” started to toy with your tits, giving them a squeeze.

You started to whimper, grinding against his cock, he felt so big, Noah, groaning from the sensation, taking a moment to look at you in the mirror, you looked gorgeous, cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, whimpering his name, he’d never seen something so beautiful.

You started to pant from the sensation, you never felt so good before, not even the dream could compare to this.

“Noah…it feels to good…” you panted out, your cheeks were flushed red from being so exposed.

“You feel good, huh, baby?” You started to whimper from feeling so close yet not getting to cum yet. “Noah…please…I need help…I’m so close…please” Noah groaning from this picked you up, trapping you between him and the bed, he starts to leave kisses down your neck, making his way up to your mouth looking you in the eye, grabbing your chin, he whispers, as if it’s your dirty little secret to keep, looking you deep in the eye “I am your god, baby doll. You repent your sins to me and only me. Where was your god when you got heart broken? No where, I was here, remember? Where was your god when you couldn’t sleep at night cause you were worried about having nightmares? No where, it was me, baby. Don’t you see I am your god” You nodded your head in understatement, that made sense, god never answered my prayers, not like Noah did. You thought to yourself.

Placing his lips to yours, he slowly teases you, licking your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth, demanding dominance.

“I wanna taste you so bad, baby” Noah sits up “get undress, baby, give me a show” Noah starts to unbutton his shirt, taking it off, revealing more and more tattoos the more clothes he took off.

“You look so gorgeous for me, baby. God I can’t wait to have your pussy, in my mouth, I’ve been dreaming of fasting you”. Diving straight into your pussy, he starts to lap directly at your clit, arching from the sensation, it felt so god, you had never felt to good, so much pleasure “Noah…it’s too much, please” you whimpered out, Noah completely ignored you. Noah starts to slip a finger inside you, stretching you out slowly, not wanting to hurt you. Moaning from the sensation, you pull at his hair, eating you out like there was no tomorrow, like you would disappear if he stopped.

Slipping another finger inside you, fingering you gently, leaning up to your ear “you taste so good, princess. I knew you would taste incredible but not like this. You’re doing such a good job for me,baby. You’re making your god very proud tonight” slipping another finger in you stretching you more, letting out a whimper “Noah, please, I need you”

“Yea, you need me? Pray to me, baby? Show your true god some love” sitting back, running his hands along the way, throwing your legs over his shoulders, lining his cock up to your entrance.

“Please Noah, please, I need you” normally Noah planned to wait it out, but being deprived of your pussy pushed him over the edge.

Slipping his cock in, Noah let out a groan, you moaning from the feeling of being full of his cock, “fuck” Noah let out.

Noah started to gently pull out though, leaving you empty, except the tip of his cock “what do we say, baby?” “Please, I’ve been good for you, I’ve been a good girl, please.” You begged and pleaded Noah to take you whole.

“Alright, baby, you got it” Noah thrusted his cock back into you, pulling you close, he felt so big stretching you out. Reaching down to rub your clit “you feel so warm and tight, god you feel incredible” he was moving faster and faster “I can feel you tightening up, baby? Are you gonna cum for me?” You nodded your head, too fucked out to speak “aww, are you so cocky drunk you can’t even speak right now” pulling out slowly and giving one harsh thrust, pulling you closer by the hips, feeling himself about to burst “go on, baby, you can cum, cum for me”

You feel your legs start to shake, and the feeling of release finally hitting you like a tone of bricks.

“Fuck!” Noah lgroaned in your ear, feeling Noah, empty his cock inside of you felt so good, you pulled him closer, whimpering.

“Good girl, baby, you did so good, let me get you cleaned up.”

Noah gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, grabbing a warm wet rag, wiping you down, putting his t-shirt and boxers on you, after changing the sheets, he turns the tv on, pulling you close, playing with your hair.

“You did so good tonight for me, baby. So good, I have so much to teach you.”

You curl your body closer into his body, you knew you could trust me, and he was right, he helped you more than god.

—————

Hello, I hope you enjoyed this story, I was so nervous to write it as I don’t ever really write smut, well in depth smut so I tried my best. Also if you didn’t read it in the beginning I was high writing this so nothing is proof read, I’m too stoned to try and reread anything I’m sorry

I was so nervous Ughhhh but anyways I hope you enjoyed, i will try to write a part two, i know I definitely want to but that might also take some time as well.

I hope you have a good morning/evening/ Ight

-LP🫶🏼

[tiktowafel]

do you ever think about how all you used to draw when you were 10 was ponies and that you should still know how to do that, then get an idea and proceed to draw something like these in nearly one sitting and it turns out better than any drawing you've done in the entire past month

sooo anyway does anyone have cutie mark or pony name ideas for them?? lol

[soaps-mohawk]

sorry if this is something you dont wanna answer but im like super frusterated rn

does it also annoy u when u read like a good oneshot n the only comments are like "omg pt 2 plsssss"?? bc it annoys me like can we talk about the writing first and actually appreciate it😭😭

As an author? Honestly? Yeah.

I've seen countless others that have spoken on this that have articulated it far better than I could, but yeah. I get where those comments come from and what they mean, they liked it so much they want a part 2, but it doesn't come across that way to authors. Most authors are going to see it as demanding, especially as fanfic authors because we do this for free in our spare time. It's one thing if the author asks if anyone is interested in a part 2. Then yeah. Comment that to your hearts content. Sure there's better ways to phrase it "omg I loved this so much, would you consider a part 2" or "omg this was amazing, please do a part 2." Just commenting "part 2 please" sounds demanding. Doesn't matter if you say please or not, you can't even take the extra two seconds to say how much you enjoyed it? IF you enjoyed it?

It's like the decades old trend of the "more please" or "update soon" comments. Those don't come across as kind and supportive as you think they do. Again, they sound demanding. You took the time to comment but couldn't even add in a few words about how you enjoyed it? How you liked it? "I loved this so much I can't wait for more." See how much better than sounds than just "more please"?

I literally had someone on Ao3 bookmark CRCB yesterday and they put "update please"...like I literally just posted the new chapter. I literally just updated and you're demanding more? That's how fic writers are going to take that. There's no way you can frame the "update soon" or "please update" comments to have most fic writers see them in a positive light. Especially when the new chapter was just posted. Like what do you mean update soon, I just did.

Fics take time. Chapters take time. Commenting in a demanding tone, even if YOU don't think it's demanding, is not going to get you an update faster. I know a lot of fic writers that will hold off updates because of comments like that. I don't reply to comments that are demanding because what do you even say to that?? There's no compliment there.

Anyway, long story short, if you're going to comment, at least say something about how you liked the chapter or you enjoyed the fic and the story. Doesn't have to be some long expose, one sentence is enough to make a fic writer's day. Honestly, a key smash will do. Just don't be demanding in the comments. That's not going to get you an update any faster.

[scekrex]

HIIIIII<33333333 i fucking love your Adam x reader fics ,im DYING to read more of them, so here is what we all love and crave

Adam x overlord reader. When reader found Adam after the battle, bringed him to his place with the garden etc, Adam lives here. Reader likes Adam and flirts with him often, trying to get closer to him. Adam, tho he would never admit it, likes reader back and plays along. Reader is also a very chill guy, so Adam feels surprisingly comfortable around him. He treats Adam as a equal person, not as some high-stated bitch who everyone need to bow to. As months pass, they are getting closer and closer, their relationship grow. But tho Adam likes reader alot, he still sometimes thinks about heaven, about Lute, about all he had left behind. Its not the same, down there. But this topic gets pushed aside whenever it pops up in his mind, cause he has his boyfriend(?) who loves him and gives him protection from all the sinners that want him dead. But deep inside Adam has that little hope that Heaven will send someone to get him back (tho they prob dont even know he is alive).

Meanwhile Lute was pleasing Sera to let her go down and look for Adam, who she belives is somehow alive. Sera eventually lets her and Lute comes down to hell and starts to look for Adam and ask everyone who she mets where he could be.

After these few months, once as the two enjoy spending evening together, they hear a ring to the door. They come out to that balcony and see Lute standing in the middle of the garden. She calls out to Adam to come back with her. Adam seems excited that his hope and his lieutant didnt let him down. But reader doesnt want to let Adam go. Adam complained from time to time that "what if heaven forgot about him and accepted the fact he is dead" And also reader knows Adams past from Eden. And suddenly reader switches from a chill guy to a serious manipulative persona. He starts to tell Adam things like "and it would take them so long to get you back? They dont really want you there", also mentioning how Lilith and Eve left him before, to hit Adams weak point. Adam, shocked by his bf suddenly mood switch and his serious harsh words, knowing how he have been acting in heaven, doesnt even realise the act of a fucking cruel, possesive manipulation and gives in, shouts at Lute to fuck off and he wont get back where nobody truly wants him. As they get back into the room, Adam from angry comes to sad and curles up into a broken, depressed ball of misery. Reader hugs him, gives him comfort, saying shit like "noone will hurt you anymore if you stay here with me" (still manipulation) while Adam totally breaks and starts to cry, feeling that he will never deserve a perfect live he was meant to have when God created him, that hes worthless and ruined himself

I need to see Adam switch right from his usuall confident, loud persona to a wet sopping cat, crying his eyes out in a sudden mental breakdown pls

You can change smth if smth bothers you, i know you will make it fucking fire as always i live for your writings<33333

I decided that this will not be part of the story bc that story is too soft and comfortable to add manipulation to. Reader is an overlord in this one, but it's not explicitly mentioned.

We'll be together, forever, we'll never ever part

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, kinda toxic behavior, manipulation

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Before Adam there had been loneliness and coldness, before Adam, there had been long nights and even longer days, before Adam there had been a lot of things and all of them were negative.

But having an angel roaming your halls certainly was not what you had planned for your life in Hell, but said angel definitely brightened your days - even though he was a - well let’s call him a special case. Adam wasn’t at all like the angels portrayed in stories, he was rude and harsh, respected no one but himself and the brunette loved to cause chaos on top of it all.

But to everyone’s surprise, the brunette angel settled in somewhat nicely once he realized that Heaven would not send their angels to bring him back, he even got used to having you around. Well, maybe the wording ‘he got used’ isn’t entirely fitting, Adam even enjoyed your company, sometimes he specifically requested it - when he was playing guitar for example. The first man was keeping you on your feet and moving at all times, that was for sure and if you were being honest, you didn’t mind it. It was a nice change from your boring, lonely life in Hell.

And even though Adam had everything he needed and wanted - you very obviously made sure that the angel never missed anything - you knew that he wasn’t doing as well with his new life in Hell as he pretended. Adam was a loud and cheerful guy, so when he went quiet for longer, of course you noticed. There was nothing you were capable of doing to help him through those times - he was simply homesick for Heaven. When things got really bad, you were even able to catch him praying before going to bed, praying to the creature he called father to bring him back, to send him Lute who would escort him back to Heaven, straight through the pearly gates without any complications - but that wasn’t happening. Every being had their reason to live in Hell, even Adam.

“Adam?” you asked with a soft voice, wrapping your arms around the first man’s torso from behind as you leaned your head against his shoulder blade. The man in your arms flinched at first, he had been lost in his thoughts and your touch caused him to snap right out of it. A slightly confused “Huh? fell from his lips before he looked over his shoulder to spot you. The confusion in his eyes was overplayed by an emotion you couldn’t name and the usual grin Adam somehow always managed to shoot in your direction laid on his lips. “Can’t get enough of me again, huh you shithead?” His words were teasing and not the slightest bit serious which caused you to chuckle softly. “You seemed lost,” you answered instead of agreeing with him, knowing damn well that his ego was already huge - bigger than Adam’s body.

Adam grumbled words you weren’t able to understand, then turned away and stepped away from the hug you had offered him. He didn’t want to talk about it - again. And that probably bothered you even more than the fact that he longed for Heaven’s pearly gates. You were fine with Adam having hopes and dreams, it’s not something you would be able to take from him, even if you wanted to, but he never talked about it. The only reason why you were aware of the Eden incident was because of the bible - Adam never talked about anything that involved his past, at least not about the negative things. What you did know was that he missed his band mates and playing gigs with them and that his lieutenant seemed to be a crazy bitch he liked a lot - not in a romantic way but rather in a platonic way, maybe he saw her as some sort of little sister, you weren’t sure.

You sighed as you watched Adam go. He needed time and you would not deny him that.

-

Lute was walking up and down in Sera’s office, explaining her detailed plan on how they would get Adam back - she hoped it would be quite easy because Adam never actively fell, he had never truly died. So technically there was still divine blood pumping through his body which would let him cross the pearly gates back home. Sera sighed at Lute’s idea, rested her head on her hands and watched as Adam’s former lieutenant never stopped walking.

“Lute,” she interrupted the exorcist who stopped in her tracks to look at the tall seraphim angel, Lute clearly had not expected Sera to interrupt her. “We can’t bring Adam back, he is gone,” she explained as the seraphim slowly got up from her chair and crossed the room to face Lute properly. The white haired woman was not having it though, she stood up for herself, “You’re wrong.”

-

It was only a few hours later that Lute flew through one of the shiny golden portals and landed right in front of your house. She knocked against the door quite loudly, even kicked and slammed her shoulder against it, “Adam!”

You turned your head as you heard an unfamiliar voice calling out for the person of your desire and watched as Adam rushed over to the balcony. What the fuck was going on and who was calling for your lover? You followed Adam with heavy steps. Once you stopped right next to the tall and loud angel you wrapped your arm around him as you looked down only to see a woman you had never seen before - she appeared to be an angel too and you instantly feared for the worst.

“Lute!” he yelled back and was about to jump off the balcony to get to her, but you stopped him by tightening the grip on his hips, a little confused he looked down at your hand, then his eyes met yours, “Y/N?” he asked quietly so his former lieutenant wouldn’t hear. You immediately knew you wanted him to stay with you, there really was no way you would ever let Adam leave again, not when he was very much able to stay with you for the rest of eternity. And it wasn’t that you weren’t aware of how wrong that seemed, but it had been long since the last little toy that brought you happiness and joy, so you would hold onto Adam for as long as possible.

You simply shook your head and pulled him a little closer against your side, “If they truly want you back, then why would it take them so long to come and get you?” That caused Adam to close his mouth and he seemed to genuinely think about your words - he came to the conclusion that you had a point.

“C’mon Sir,” Lute yelled up at the balcony where you and Adam stood, “We’re going home.” Unsure eyes roamed over your body and you could feel that Adam waited for you to say something, you were right after all, why would Heaven wait so awfully long to bring him back? The expression on your face was blank and your usually soft sounding voice turned bitter and cold, “She wants to take you from me, Adam. She wants to separate us like Lucifer separated you from your past wives.” And that caused Adam to freeze, he slowly backed away from the railing of the balcony. “Darling, she could have taken you back ages ago, yet she waited - for what though? She seems to be out for power and she realized that you are the only powerful thing she can possess and get away with at the same time, all while she can stay in Heaven,” you hummed as you backed off alongside Adam, slowly guiding the golden winged angel back inside.

“Fuck off, you can go back to crawling up Sera’s fucking ass, I ain’t coming with you, cunt,” the brunette in your arm yelled and flipped the smaller angel in your garden off. A victorious grin appeared on your lips, your plan was working out just fine.

The door to the balcony fell shut and you heard how Adam crashed down onto the couch, he laid there, face buried in the soft fabric it was covered in and his wings were tightly wrapped around his body to isolate him from his surroundings. He looked so miserable, so helpless, so lonely and you hated seeing the usually loud angel so quiet. Your voice softened a little as you sat down next to Adam, you had forced him to stay simply because you wanted him to stay, now the least you could do was to lure him into the thought of protection and a good, bright life.

“Hey now,” you mumbled quietly as your fingers combed through Adam’s soft brown and messy hair, pushing it out of his face - his face which was still pressed against the couch. Your other hand gently moved up and down Adam’s back and when you heard the brunette sigh, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger just fine. “Noone will hurt you, not if you continue to stay with me,” you hummed, the tone you spoke in remained soft and calming and when you saw how Adam lifted his head to look at you, your heart did shatter a little.

His eyes were red, slightly puffy and his lip was quivering. The first man moved his head from the couch to your lap, pressed his face tightly against your belly and cried - it was the first time he was showing so strong and overwhelming emotions. His nails dug into your sides as he held onto your waist to keep you close, to feel you under his hands and to keep you from leaving like everyone else did, he wanted you to stay just as much as he wanted to stay with you.

And the worst yet best part of it all was that the brunette hadn’t even noticed how manipulative your words were, let alone your soft, comforting actions. He was yours through and through and there was nothing in this world - Hellspawn or Heavenborn - that would ever separate you from the brunette man crying against your belly.

[torchstelechos]

I do think its really important to remember that SY was suppose to be the villain character but its only because of his kindness and newly gained life that he didn’t end as one. In the very beginning of the story we learn that Peerless Cucumber Bro often left comments on how SJ didn’t get his dues and needed to be punished more, and only after he transmigrated did he acknowledge how awful of a death SJ had. He also made point to explain that he only read the book for LBH, which he noted to enjoy his decisive actions and deft ability to kill. Markedly, he liked his brutality and personality over the erotica that the majority of PIDW fans enjoyed. Peerless Cucumber Bro is someone who loves action and the ability to cut right to the chase, something that he does not do and most likely has difficulty with in his world.

Speaking of, it is something to note that Peerless Cucumber bro is rich. He had head chefs, he could pay for a 6k+ chapter book of erotica in 20 days, he noted that he could not understand SJs envy and ambition for power since he lives well, and he even noted to himself that his family was well off. He is incredibly wealthy, and it shows. Which is important to note because he, not once, showed any guilt or remorse on dying and leaving his family behind. Yes, he sometimes refers to people as being similar to his family but he never showed any pain for losing that life like he did when he lost LBH. This is important because I genuinely think SY was depressed and self destructive to himself, which goes against popular HC that he was chronically/terminally ill (I do like this HC and like how its portrayed in fanfiction). It would explain how he ended up dying all alone by himself, and how blase he was to his own life and death.

SQQ is a self destructive force who ended up dying three times, and didn’t feel anything about death itself. He was worried about others and the effect it had on them, but for himself it was up and on again like it never happened. He does not care for his health, had self isolated as SY to the point he died alone, and has a horrible self esteem to the point that he continuously agrees when other people put him down and often calls himself the villain. Even though we have seen the evidence of someone who is always being thrust into new situations and awful plots, he calls himself lazy and easy going. He hides his thoughts and feelings behind his fan and has a remarkably thin face. At the very base of his actions and his thoughts, he is self destructive, powerful, and smart. This is the set up for a villain.

However, when shown the actual people in front of him and forced to act as SJ did towards LBH and his disciples, he flinches from it. He notes that it happening in front of him was different. His entire self soothing comedy monologue went quiet when he had to enforce the Endless Abyss scene, and grieved for the childish innocence he killed from one of his favourite people. SY was set up to be the villain and obviously thinks of himself as one, but can not act as one. If he had the choice LBH would have been his sticky sweet white lotus disciple for as long as LBH wished to be.

His kindness, as seen in the book, is what turned him from being “the scumbag villain” to the protagonist we see in the novels. Which, yes, he is a protagonist! He even has the protag halo that LBH has and its very funny in the meta way for SQQ not to realize this, but thats for another post. But he loves his disciples, he loves his peak lord siblings, he loves his Binghe, he loves his new life, and he is kind. That is what kept him from being the villain he sees himself as, his kindness and love for others. Whether that be romantic, platonic, or familial, he loves the people he has met and he treats them kindly. That is why it is important to remember that he was set up as the villain by everything in the story we do not see, but what we do see is him continuously changing the story to fit a new genre that lets as many people as he can save live. Sorry sorry, I just think about SY being set up as a villain so much. It changes a lot of views I have on the series when I remember the duality of SYs story and character development.

[blackbatcass]

sometimes the ghost of kelley puckett (he is still alive) haunts me. does he know. does he even know. he’s so detached from the comics community and he’s such a private guy (I RESPECT THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY) that i really and truly do not know if this man knows how much cassandra cain means to us. does he know batgirl 2000 is heralded as the bible of dc solo books, as a lot of people’s favorite comic ever written. does he know how much we love cass. how we write essays over her character and how amazing she is and how she changed our lives. does he know how adored his writing is. does he know he wrote the best comics character introduction of all time. does he even. know.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Okay, random question but in the panel where Lan Zhan & Wei Ying are riding side by side, why is Alan Zhan’s horse sad? Is Little Apple bullying him? :(

PS: I check in daily for your posts, OBSESSED 😭

Alan Zhan (patron saint of when the substitute professor gets your name wrong).

[smokeys-house]

The Cane King's Daughter

⭐️Art by @sator-the-wanderer, story by @smokeys-house ⭐️

⭐️Also available on ao3!⭐️

✨️Part two TCKD: A Story for Another Time available here✨️

Storms at sea are no rare occurrence. Squalls that sweep ships to their sides may be daunting, but no more so than the tumult of the lives of all folk, land or sea. Captain Whetstone, a self made pirate born on the coast of France, has made rather a name for herself. A large and fluffy brown moomin, she grew up hearing the stories of a free life at sea. 

She sat wide upon a chair in the cabin of her ship. The strain of a pirate's life wore heavily upon her brow. The early days were rife with plunder and excitement, raucous laughter and cheers. She'd made it, or so she would've thought. She'd got the merry life she'd wanted, as for whether it'd be a short one would be up to the rule of law. 

'Perhaps I've been at it too long.' the captain thought to herself. She sighed aloud, staring into the vanity mirror as if looking past herself. "Rouse yerself. Yer a captain, not some layabout on a fishing trip." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and made for the deck. She'd grown weary of taking scores and the thrill of living on the run.

The crew still aboard The Honeyed Word were working diligently; hauling crates to and from the port, maintaining the ship, or otherwise making themselves useful. Marseille was bustling, lively, and lousy with merchant ships. The local law, while concerned about piracy, were not so eager to challenge those engaged in its splendors. Collecting a bribe was practically by the books in Marseille. It wasn't the pirate haven of Nassau, but at least here she could try to lie low for a while. 

The salted sea air mingled nicely with the smell of cookery and the commotion of working sailors as the captain made rounds amongst what crew remained on deck. 

"Cap'n." A grizzled old hemulen woman wiped the sweat from her brow. "Most of the crew 'ave headed into town. I assume you can simply follow the ruckus if ye be needing to find them." Her voice was coarse and thick, but with a sense of duty. 

"As it happens, I fear I may be in search of drink myself." The captain shielded her eyes from the sun with her paws. "Keep an eye on things for me while I'm gone." 

"Promise me ye don't be up to nothin' foolish. I seen that bored look you been wearin'."

"No foolishness here, Ruthie. Just a quick nip, and maybe a rest in a bed what ain't rollin' on the waves." She patted the hemulen woman on the back with a hearty thud, to which she chuckled mirthfully.

The way into town was fraught with people of all classes and lifestyles; merchants, traders, sailors, simple common folk, rich and poor. Marseille was a well populated city, and drew in people from all over. The captain trod a familiar path to her preferred local pub, one of the few she hadn't been run out of in recent memory. Despite the relative ease with which she carried herself, being spotted by knowing eyes would likely spell trouble, or at the very least more excitement than she was looking for. 

"Didn't think I'd see you in here again, after last time." The barkeep didn't look up from polishing his glass. 

"I'm not sure I remember the last time. Much to see around these parts I'm afraid, sometimes too much." She eyed a table of navy men in the corner as she approached the counter. It was a clean establishment, not necessarily upscale, but it did at least serve the more well-to-do in days long since passed. The place was littered with well crafted furniture and gave an air of high status, but the clientele quickly dimmed the illusion. The velvets adorning curtains and chairs had all faded, and some were torn in spots. 

"What'll you have, Whetstone?"

"That'll be captain Whetstone from you. Pour me anything what ain't rum n' cask-water, and you can call me whatever you like!" The two shared a laugh as the bartender filled two tankards with ale. 

"Word on the street is your boys are already wreaking havoc. Half my usual patrons have made themselves scarce. You've only been in town a couple of days I thought, but from the way folks are talking I would've thought the devil himself had popped up on our doorstep, and made himself at home." 

"Oh, how lovely." Whetstone sighed and eagerly watched the man pour. "I'd have thought by now the folks 'round here would've been dreadfully bored by that sort of thing." She paid for the two drinks and clinked glasses with the bartender. "Not like the navy men do it any different while docked. We're all fixin' t' crack Jenny's teacup!"

"Aye, but your 'Jenny' is more often than not someone else's 'Sally', ye damn dog."

Whetstone raised a finger as she drank deep from her mug. "So long as she's not your Sally I'd say I'd done no wrong. Not my fault no navy men know how to keep a woman in good spirits!" She had a charismatic and an almost musical way of speaking, it was as though everything she said was a line in a play.

"And how might that be, oh great and wise slayer of maidens?" 

"Spirits!" She motioned to the bottles on the shelf behind the bar, sharing a hearty cheer with a few eavesdropping barflies. 

"And what might it be that brings you to Marseille once more?"

"Naught but the wetting of m' whistle and the tireless search fer comp'ny I reckon. I'm not quite so sure, I think I just wanted t' see yer ugly mug once more!"

She spent a few coins and hours there, seemingly wasting the day away. She knew that she wasn't searching for much of anything, and that she was simply tired of the hardships she'd chosen for herself. 'What use is a free life if I can't live it quietly?' She thought. 'All the excitement out t' sea, and all I'm wanting fer is a quiet day indoors.' Perhaps she'd grown weary of her trade, but taking a day for herself surely wasn't what you'd expect if you'd heard the stories about her. 

"That's her right over there. The glum looking gal in the coat." Whetstone's musings were interrupted by murmurs rolling like thunder into jeers. The calm if somewhat gruff environment quickly became rife with tension.

"Seems our mutual friends have spotted a familiar fiend." The barkeep kept his paws busy, still cleaning glasses from patrons past. The captain appeared more tired by the idea than worried, propping herself up on the bar with her arms. 

"You've got some nerve. Swingin' your snout 'round here like it weren't still smellin' of my girl's perfume." The hemulen navy man tucked one thumb into his belt as he approached, glancing over his shoulder back to his fellows. 

" 'fraid I haven't seen your girl since she were someone else's. Last I checked, and likely still, she belonged to herself. Let's keep our paws in our pockets, shall we?" 

"She seems t' think quite highly of you." His words were dripping with venom as he looked the captain up and down. He either had a chip on his shoulder or something to prove. "Turn 'n face me you bilgerat. I'm fixing to see what she thinks is so special!" 

"Quiet over there!" A younger fillyjonk man spoke up from the corner, his face mostly obscured by a hat tilted over it. "Some of us are trying to drink in peace."

"What's it to you, boy? Shut yer gob afore I shut it for you!" The navy man leading the group continued to shout, tensions rising among the men behind him. He grabbed the captain by the collar of her coat. "Don't think even for a second I've not seen your face on them posters. Teachin' you a lesson and gettin' paid for it? Price on you's enough to split with these boys and then some." 

The captain's eyes darted to and fro, seeking any opportunity to turn this around. The navy men must've numbered at least a dozen in total, all surrounding her. Them aside, patrons flanked them on all sides, acting as likely obstacles. Just as the situation was looking its grimmest, a near full glass flew across the room, finding its target to be the head of the man nearest Whetstone. 

That one thrown drink began a large-scale brawl encompassing the entirety of the bar. The glass distracted the leader of the pack long enough for Whetstone to throw the first punch, square in the snout. The rest of the navy men, unable to tell the shouting of patrons from aggressors, and unable to tell who threw the cup, tore through the establishment. Skirmishes filled every corner of the room.  The bartender calmly ducked into a room just behind the bar as it all began to unfold. The captain danced among the crowd, dodging blows and delivering them herself. 

"This way!" Beckoned the be-hatted fillyjonk man, motioning to the alley entrance he was holding open. Whetstone fought her way through the flinging of paws at maws and more thrown drinks, toward the only friendly face in sight. 

Just then, the bartender returned from the storage room behind the counter with a flintlock rifle and pistol in tow. He fired the musket straight into the ceiling, the boom overcoming the sound of the raucous crowd. For a moment, everyone stopped. 

"Out of my bar." He spoke quite plainly, as though it were simply closing time. The navy men stopped their brawling and regained focus, looking about the room for their previously cornered quarry.

"Over there! After her, boys!" The sailors that still stood gave chase, stumbling over chairs and glasses underfoot. 

In all the excitement, the captain had only just made it to the door when the gun went off. Her and her new acquaintance darted alley to alley, their pursuers forcing them through markets and over fences. Though the chase felt to them as intense as any they'd ever seen, it must have been quite the sight to see that many drunkards speedily shambling across town.

The shouting got further and further away, and luckily the throngs of the afternoon crowd began filling the streets once more. If it weren't for the simple fact that the captain hadn't been at the bar for as long as the rest of them, they likely would have caught up to her. She'd wisely abstained from anything too strong while in public, but a belly full of beer hardly makes for good running. With her wits mostly about her, and her ego intact, she'd made good on her escape thanks to a kind stranger. 

Soon after, the busy dockside streets and afternoon sun quickly shifted into wealthy homes and a dimming evening sunset as the two evaded their would-be captors. Once they felt they had lost their assailants, the two caught their breath and the young man calmly led Captain Whetstone to a lovely gated garden bordering the wealthier part of town. It was well kept and filled with vibrant pinks, deep purples and reds, and a sweet floral aroma mixed with the salt of the nearby sea. Ornate metal bars formed a fence, wrapping the exterior of the garden. 

"There's a greenhouse here where we can lie low. I like to come here to get lost for a while." The young man's voice shed pretense for a moment.

"Fine work, lad! And yer sure no nosy gardener's eager to do some midnight pruning?" The captain idly rubbed the petals of a nearby rose as she took in the view. "Posh bit o' living, this. Real pretty, though."

"Didn't think pirates cared for flowers. No, no one'll turn up. This square belongs to a wealthy family, used to be the daughter's. Haven't seen her around here in some time, though."

"We've all got our secrets, lad." She winked as she meandered through the garden to the greenhouse. The moon's rise baked a soft light throughout the interior. She idly rummaged through a cupboard above a potting bench. "Bless me tail! Oy, lad! They've got booze in 'ere! Some fine drink by the look of it. Supposin' the young maiden kept a few secrets, too." She snickered as she uncorked the bottle. She'd sobered a bit since her midday jog, and apparently wasn't eager to continue that trend. 

"What's your name, anyhow? Ya know mine as it seems half of Marseille does these days. Why risk yer life fer a no good pirate?"

"Well… like you said, we all have our secrets, captain."  The young fillyjonk sat upon a stool in the corner, seemingly familiar with the space. Whetstone poured a glass for herself and another for her new friend. The two shared drinks for a while, swapping idle stories late into the evening. The liquor spilled forth as did the relaxation and courage that comes with it. 

"So… you're a pirate, ay?" The man swirled his glass in his paw, not looking up from his drink. "You'd know a thing or two about fighting with a sword, then?" He stood, walking over to the potting bench near where Whetstone sat against the wall. 

"Aye, lad. I'd say I know a thing or two about swingin' a sword. What're ye gettin' at?" She steadied her eyes as they'd just begun to spin, realizing only now the risk of getting too drunk to stand with strangers about. 

"Show me." He tossed her a wooden cutlass from beneath the bench. 

"Secrets, secrets, secrets. My my my..." She caught it deftly, laying it across her lap. "I'm supposin' that's not the only thing y' be hiding from me."

"It's not, but if you beat me, I'll tell all."

"Ha, it'll take more'an that to get me into playfighting a stranger what won't say his name with a wooden toy." 

"Scourge of the seas frightened by a youngblood after just a few drinks?" He used the point of his wooden sword to lift her chin and meet his gaze. Either he'd handled his liquor better than she did, or he was far more cautious than she was.

"Now yer just testing me patience, boy." She pushed aside the sword and finished her drink, rising to her feet. "Ye won't be needing t' set terms fer if'n you win. On account of ye won't. Take the first swing." She stood straight, sword idle in her paw, in an entirely unready stance. She took in a sharp breath, and exhaled slowly. She wasn't unfamiliar with the art of the un-sober sword, but she never did like to lose. 

The man swung, overhead and diagonal to her shoulder. She tucked herself to one side as it flew past and struck the ground. 

"Slow." Captain Whetstone teased. 

He swung again, from left to right, to which she back-stepped. 

"Clumsy." She continued her barbs with a wink.

He thrust at her belly in quick succession, the first one a narrow miss, and the second intercepted by the flat of the captain's wooden blade. 

"Not bad! Once more!" She taunted, now fully engaged. Her feet planted firm and knees bent, she parried blow after blow. He sent out yet another thrust, this time aimed at her chest. 

"Out you go!" She turned his thrust to her outside line and closed in. She turned her point down, pressing the pommel to his ribs, and pushed him out of the greenhouse door into the garden with a shoulder check.

"You're toying with me! Throw a cut at least!" The fillyjonk protested, panting, but on guard after managing to avoid falling flat on his face. 

"Aye lad, I am! But here goes!" She threw a cut at a downward angle to cross his chest, or so it seemed at first. She feinted high, forcing him to guard his head and swung low, giving him a gentle tap on his thigh. "How's that?" She smirked. It was clear he was embarrassed, and perhaps a little upset. His face was red from drink, exertion, and now frustration. He threw several wild strikes out in a vain attempt to land a blow, to which she ducked several. 

"Easy, lad!" She began deflecting his blows, hoping that he'd ease up. He brought his sword up as a club with both hands, over his head, letting out a tense shout as he swung. She blocked it static and right between the two of them, holding the bind. She turned her point under and went for a disarm, tossing his sword aside. Just as soon as his sword hit the ground, as did he, with a swift push on the chest from the captain. She stood over the fillyjonk, pointing her sword at his chest. 

The fillyjonk's hat tumbled back, spilling forth long dark curls, previously tied back with ribbons that had since gone astray. The moonlight soaked into the fillyjonk's fur and hair, cascading shadows from the flowers that she had tumbled into upon onto her muzzle. The contrast between the bright blue flowers, her dark, rolling hair and the soft brown of her fur mirrored that of the shore and a stormy sea. To the captain, she was the very visage of romance. Perhaps it was the light of the moon, or the thrill of the fight, or even the blur of the booze, but she became immediately enamored.

"Well strike me pink! Hell hath no fury, eh? Now the question is, who scorned a bonny lass like you?"  The captain lowered her sword, wearing a surprised grin on her face. "I'm supposin' now would be a good time to cash in on my winnings."

The evening stretched on into night, bringing with it the still presence of the full moon and the quiet breeze carried in from offshore. The night air was cool, and just comfortably so. 

"My name's Marion." The fillyjonk acquiesced, true to her word. "Marion Cartier. It's my rum we've been spilling all night." She crossed her legs as she sat upon the cobblestone amongst the flowers. 

"And this here'd be your garden then? The daughter o' the house as you'd said it. It's beautiful." She cupped the bulb of a flower in her paw. "If yer the daughter of a wealthy family, what business had ye in a bar like that one?" 

"Same business I had in having a private garden. An escape." 

"An' what was that bit afore I pushed y' down? Figure you'd take me in fer the bounty alive after gettin' me liquor'd up?"

"No… it's not that it's just…" Marion hesitated before answering, burning with embarrassment and the rum in her belly. Eventually she settled on telling the truth. "My father was right."

Captain Whetstone sat just across from her, light-heartedly rolling her eyes. "I'm supposin' that's got a story behind it. Night's young and I've nowhere better t' be, might as well let it out."

"He'd have me fall in line or sell me off just the same. If it's not helpful to his business, it hardly matters what I want." 

"Yer a grown woman, can't ye just use all that money o' yers to get yerself a place by yer lonesome? 'S what I'd do."

"The man practically owns me. I won't see any money that doesn't sit in his paws until I take up the mantle." 

"...And the swords?" Whetstone was quick to dismiss the woes of the wealthy and continued sating her curiosity with questions. Despite the blooming feeling in her chest, she still found it difficult to feel sympathy for rich folk.

"Father fancies himself a duelist. I'm… I thought I could get to know him better if I could get him to see me." She eyed her paws, rubbing the areas hardened into calluses by many hours of practice. "Told me it wasn't worth my time to wield a sword. Told me I'd be good for nothing if it wasn't for the family business."

The captain looked over at the wooden swords lying on the ground and cocked her head to the side. "Those ain't dueling swords, lassie. That's a cutlass."

Marion's eyes stayed focused on her hands despite the captain's piercing gaze and raised eyebrow. Silence filled the space for a moment.

"I've uh… I'm not quite sure how to uhm… it's rather embarrassing, I fear. Given present company, especially."

"Spill yer beans. I've drank too much t' sleep now fer fear of hangover. An' it's far too long a night yet fer keepin' secrets. B'sides, I won, remember?" Whetstone laid up against a tree and began picking her teeth with one of her claws.

"You must promise not to laugh."

"Miss Marion, I hadn't realized we were school girls! I ain't laughin' now, but I sure could use a good'un, out with it."

"I thought I could be a pirate. Or a privateer. Something on the sea that isn't in the navy. I'd take off as a stowaway on one of my father's ships with a few good men and strike out on my own."

"If that's yer cover fer trying t' claim my bounty it sure is the most… creative ruse anyone's drummed up against me." 

"I'm not trying to claim the bounty! Even if I was, you'd have killed that dream along with the one you're stepping on now." Marion paused for a short while, composing herself. The frustration in her voice was joined ever so slightly by the sound of tears beginning to well up.  

"Ah, I'm sorry lass, but it's a mite hard to think of someone like yerself at sea… y' need more'an just a few good men and some sword swingin' skills. It's a rough life out there."

"But it's a free one. The sea keeps men honest… in a way. There's bluster, sure, like anywhere else. But the sea asks that you prove it, and I aim to." 

"Aye… ye can't lie to her none, this I know." The captain looked to the sky, feeling a flutter in her chest. She was reminded of her youth, and the first time she felt the call to the sea. Though it hadn't been too many years, most pirates don't last more than a few. "You'll find yer way. The bold ones always do." 

The conversation bled into thoughtful silence, the pair quietly ruminating on past and future. The captain balanced a near empty bottle on her knee, watching the liquor shift and roll within. She examined the label, taking in the details. A mustachioed fillyjonk gentleman wielding a bundle of sugarcane like a royal scepter sat cross-legged upon a throne also made of sugarcane. In his other paw, a coconut prepared to be a chalice. 

"Cartier's Cane King rum blend…" Whetstone continued eyeing the bottle, comparing the fillyjonk on the label with her new friend. "Tell me, what did you say yer name was again?"

–

Captain Whetstone awoke with the early afternoon sun baking into her fur upon a makeshift bed within the greenhouse she had stayed the night before. Her coat had been draped over her like a blanket, and her head was pounding. She stood and stretched, remembering the night prior. 

"I swear I fell asleep in the garden, though…" She thought aloud as she surveyed her surroundings. A note penned in fine handwriting sat upon the potting bench, and was tented neatly.

Ms. Whetstone

I should think you capable of reading seeing as you're a captain. You've given me much to think about. I've many choices to make. I apologize for leaving you unattended, but it's as I said that no one visits my garden. 

I intend to convince my father to teach me about sailing. I'll tell him it's for to learn the family business, and that ought to be enough. Of course, you and I know the reasons why well enough. The next time you see me, it might be out at sea.

I took the liberty of coaxing you into the greenhouse for a more private rest. I've a busy morning to come. 

It was a pleasure meeting you. 

-M

"Coaxed me into the..?" The captain was much too heavy to lift. She imagined Marion rolling her on her side like a big fluffy barrel as she slept. She would've been beet red if it weren't for her thick fur. She donned her coat, shook off the embarrassment, and tucked the note into her pocket. With the morning ending and the afternoon just beginning, she thought it prudent to check in with the crew and nurse her hangover with a late breakfast. 

Rumors of yesterday's excitement had reached every ear, and just as quickly sank into the sand like waves upon the shore. The king's navy almost always had reason to cause a stir and rarely did it ever go quietly, but with such frequency it joined the day's monotony. A chilled breeze and shapely dark clouds portended a storm to come, though the warmth of the sun persisted for the moment. The docks were alive as always, folks walking shoulder to shoulder, hardly taking note of one another. The cacophony of cooking, trading, buying, and selling rang through the air. The cumulative hangover was just beginning to peak as Captain Whetstone sat down to eat beneath an awning at a dockside restaurant. Through the din of the crowd, she could almost make out the song of seabirds and waves lapping on the shore. She didn't take to being in public well, but the liveliness of the docks drawing eyes off of her bought her a modicum of peace. This peace was short-lived, as a garishly overdressed fillyjonk man cut a path around him through the crowd, speaking loudly and with no lack of self-importance. He moved dramatically, as though he was performing a dance, spinning and gesturing flamboyantly.

"What fortuitous timing, you wishing to take up the family business. As it so happens, I've dealings with a gentleman from Curaçao this very afternoon!" 

"Yes, well… I was hoping to start with more on the transportation side of things. Learning to sail ships and the like. I've been doing much reading on the subject." A timid, familiar voice followed shortly after him. 

"Hmm? Oh, of course. I'm sure he'll be just as happy with that if all goes well. Regardless, Marion, how does 'Cartier's Cane King Curaçao blend' sound to you? Bold? Alliterative? Lively? Perhaps, too lively, do you think?" His exaggerated manner of speaking sounded as though all must hear. It was difficult to tell whether he was advertising to the world or simply lost within himself. 

"Who will be happy with that?" Marion rounded the corner, catching up with her father. She was dressed in deep blues, in an outfit that portrayed her wealthy standing and matched her father. The duo stopped perpendicular to the restaurant Whetstone was eating at, looking out at a few ships along the dock. 

"That one there's a wild'un." The captain nudged a nearby patron with her elbow. "Drinks like a sailor 'n aims to be one." The patron patently ignored her idle musings upon seeing they were pointed at the wealthy young woman, assuming it to be a joke with no punch line. She snorted out a quick laugh to herself when comparing Marion's current clothes to her getup the other night. She decided it best to keep her nose out of it and went about finishing her meal. 

"The gentleman from Curaçao, my dear."

"And why should it matter to him whether I learn to sail?" Marion's confusion began to mix with her growing concern. 

"Well you are to be married, after all. I should think him quite pleased to marry a sailor if he needn't a homemaker." He removed his watch from his pocket and stared impatiently at it for a moment. The watch and the fob were both silver that shone bright against the deep blues of his shimmering waistcoat. He slicked his hair back with his paw as Marion stood dumbfounded. 

"Have you no shame?! Selling your daughter off for sugar and spirits! I would think a man of your status would at least have the guts to tell his own daughter about such an arrangement prior. We're done here!" Marion balled her paws into fists, turning to walk away. Just as she turned she felt a tug at the back of her shirt. Her father pulled her back forcefully, turning her to face him. 

"We're done when I say we're done." He scolded under his breath, eyeing passersby in the hopes they hadn't seen his family matters turned public. He placed his paws upon her shoulders, holding her in place. 

"Get off me!" Marion shouted, batting his arms away and making an attempt to flee. Just as she escaped his grasp, he raised his arm high. 

Slap

Captain Whetstone looked up from her breakfast in time to see Mr. Cartier backhand Marion, who stumbled into a stack of tin plates and other dinnerware atop some crates, sending them clattering to the ground. The ruckus drew everyone's attention. Marion's father stood over her and shook his head. He took a clearly practiced stance, placing his hand disdainfully upon his brow, with the other resting on his hip. 

Whetstone shook her head as she slammed her utensils onto the table. She stood abruptly, and threw her chair to the ground as she stomped over to the scene. Without so much as a word, she raised her paw and delivered a powerful open palmed slap to Mr. Cartier's cheek. He crumpled to the ground, both from the surprise of being slapped and from the sheer force of such a large moomin. 

"I'll not have ye befoul my breakfast. Treatin' a young woman, let alone yer own daughter like that. Despicable." She spoke at him gruffly as she helped the young fillyjonk up onto her feet. Marion, awestruck and utterly confused by all of the events that had just transpired, simply stood behind Whetstone. 

"I won't.. take that… from a brute like you!" He panted as he struggled both to speak and to stand back up. 

"Aye, I imagine ye won't. And I don't be takin' nothin' from some fop exceptin' what's in his coffers. Scurry off out, ye bilgerat. I've got a devil of a hangover and I won't be wasting my time on the likes of ye."

"I'll have you arrested! Assault! Assault!" He shouted to the crowd forming around the trio. Much to his chagrin, the group seemed far more interested in seeing a pirate shake down a wealthy man than they were in coming to his aid. 

"Guards! Gendarmerie! Somebody help!" The captain mockingly shouted in a pitiful voice. She spat to the ground near the man. "You think the law around here cares? Look around you. The people who carry your crates fer a coin. The folks who you exploit. Whingeing like that only works on folk what got food in their bellies." She stepped uncomfortably close to him, looking just down on him from a head above his height. "Anything left worth sayin', or are we done here?" The man could only look back at her with glassy eyes, stunned into brief silence. 

"That's what I thought." Whetstone began to walk back to her table when she heard above the shocked whispers of the crowd, the distinct sound of a leather glove being thrown to the ground. 

"A duel. You've thoroughly disrespected me and I'll not have the Cartier name besmirched by a ruffian like yourself." 

The crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed at the prospect. More folks gathered around, wishing to see what the gathering was for.

"What? Here and now? But I 'aven't even finished breakfast." She stopped only long enough to respond as she continued her stride to her table, not even turning to face him. Her gait was immediately interrupted by another leather glove, this one being tossed directly at the back of her head. 

"A coward and a glutton! Afraid to challenge the famed fencing of Jules Cartier! I simply must laugh! Aha! Aha!" He forced out an almost theatrical laugh as he puffed out his chest. It seemed to him the world was a stage, and the thing he feared most was losing the audience. There was hardly a moment he wasn't scanning the surrounding group for approval.

"You'll be wantin' to be careful with what you say next.'' Captain Whetstone growled as she balled her paws into fists, turning to face him once more. "I didn't come to Marseille to kill a rich boy. I came to make merry and sell the scores I took from ponces like you!" She stepped in closer once more, slow and with intention. "Y' have no idea who yer talkin' to, do ya?" Her gravelly voice rumbled. 

"From the smell of it, a drunkard. And from the look of it, a buffoon!" His confidence, though shaken, had returned as he began to shake off the slap. He dabbed at his cheek with a pocket square, and straightened his jacket. 

"She's a pirate captain, father, don't do this!" Marion pleaded. 

"Quiet, Marion!" Jules snapped. "This isn't one of your storybooks!" 

"From the papers! Must you embarrass yourself at every opportunity? She's wanted and very, very dangerous!" 

Whetstone shot her a flattered, knowing look. "Ha! Did y' hear that one, Jules?" She thumped her chest before tucking her arms behind her head with a cocky smirk. "Very… very dangerous." Her gaze was piercing, albeit smug. She was practically inviting him to hit her knowing full well that he wouldn't allow himself to be seen in such a light.

"A duel! I demand it! Face me or be branded forever a coward!" Jules' obstinations were increasingly childlike. 

"As you like it, sugarboy. If I win, yer daughter goes her own way. And you pay off whatever price they got on m' head in Marseille. We fight to first blood, I'm not killing a man in front of his daughter. You let me know the time and place, Cartier. Send someone a'callin' down near this here restaurant. I'll be waitin'." The Captain parted the crowd as she passed. She righted her chair and sat back down, continuing her meal.

"Three days time. When I win, I'll be taking your bounty, and whichever rotten tub you floated in on. Live it up while you still can, Whetstone. You're about to make me even richer." 

Captain Whetstone simply waved as he made his exit, her mouth full. Jules departed, entirely forgetting his daughter and the man from Curaçao. Marion, now the sole focus of a murmuring crowd, rushed to the table her would-be savior sat at.  

"You complete and utter fool!" She slammed her paws down onto the table just across the captain. "You can't just go around inserting yourself into any old trouble you like!" 

"That's a laugh right there." She swallowed her bite. "I seem to recall someone inserting themselves into trouble on my account just the other day. She looked a lot like you, matter o' fact... Took me fer a stroll in the garden in the pale moonlight." She took her last bite and set her utensils on her plate. 

Marion slumped into a nearby chair, placing her head in her hands as the previously interested onlookers began to disperse. There were a few disappointed sighs, and life seemed to return to business as usual. 

"You've no idea what you've done. Not that you'd care if you did, seems you've no thought beyond fun and fortune." She repeatedly cleared her hair from her face, looking into the table rather than across it to the woman now responsible for her fate.

"It's only to first blood, mate. I'll give yer dear ol' dad a good scratch and a scar to remember me by, and you get to goin' on whatever it is you'd like from then on. You've seen what I can do first-hand. It won't be but a quick bout." 

"And I've seen what he can do, as well. He's a liar and a no-good cheat, but a proper duelist through and through. If you win I'll be on the street, and if he wins I'll be married off and you'll be in prison or worse in no small part on my behalf." Her brow furrowed. Her life had capsized and was now in the paws of a scruffy outlaw.

The captain took a small pouch from her belt and laid a few coins on the table near her plate, then slid the pouch over to Marion. 

"I'm sorry, lass. I just can't sit idle 'round men like him. When yer out t' sea, aboard and abroad, y' get to thinkin' all manner o' things 'bout the way folks get on… Whole lot that don't make much sense. I don't know to make a social call by now. I don't know nothin' but me own code." She took a heavy sigh, pulling a long smoking pipe from her coat and chewing on the stem. "Take that there coin and put yerself up some place nice a while. It'll be a payday fer us both 'fore it's over, I promise ye that." 

Marion sat quietly, gripping tight the pouch of doubloons. She wasn't sure what else to say, let alone what else to do. Captain Whetstone trodded off toward her ship, head full of thoughts and ache. Marion followed her not long after. 

"Something more y'need from a… how'd you put it? A 'complete fool' like me?" The moomin turned her head over her shoulder at the woman sulking just behind her.

"You are many things. A rapscallion, a scallywag, a ne'er-do-well, but I fear I spoke unfairly of you in calling you a fool. One of the many things you are now, however, is responsible for me." She sighed deeply. "Whether or not you like it."

"Yer yer own woman ain'tchya? Can go as ye please, afore at least three days are up. I don't be needin' t' look after you." She chuckled. 

"Consider it the price you pay for today's events, and my penance for yesterday's. I hardly think it wise to be anywhere my father could reach me at the moment."

"Won't be fur off my tail. Yer welcome aboard as long as you can stomach it!" She slapped her on the back, knocking her forward a bit as the duo made way to The Honeyed Word. "Hardly the worst punishment I've seen in all me days, 'avin a lass like you aboard." 

The next three days brewed a strange energy for all around. Word got out about the incident at the docks, likely in part due to Jules' boasting. It wasn't enough for him to duel and beat a lowly pirate, nor befitting of his reputation. Whetstone's wanted posters had enjoyed a fearsome makeover, at Mr. Cartier's request. She now appeared monstrous, though devilishly handsome. Her bounty was attributed to both deeds she had done, and now tales some have told. Even in opposition, the fillyjonk could not be associated with the ills and ails of a true and "ugly" world. He did not just want to restore his reputation, he wanted to cement himself as a hero by defeating a villain. Criers, newsmen, even housewives and barflies were alight and giddy over the upcoming duel. A legendary scoundrel pirate versus a noble and upstanding upper crust citizen.

Word had reached the captain's crew by now, who were mostly uneasy toward their new found glory. Being a famous criminal still makes one a criminal, and being famous makes one a target. They'd watched as their normally steadfast captain had begun fawning over a rich young lady, while showing her the ropes as it were. Their new guest had been enjoying the captain's fineries and with none of the work to earn it. The pair spent much of the three days aboard romping about clad in silk, delighting in drink and distraction alike. If it weren't for the prize of having their charges cleared and paid off by someone with deep pockets, and the captain's usually fair treatment, a mutiny might've been in order. There'd been no talk of plans, and any crew that interrupted the captain were brushed off or turned away. It seemed as though their luck would soon run out if their captain remained lovestruck.

Tensions rose onshore surrounding the Cartier business as well, but as tensions rose, so too did the profits. The money minded men of Marseille had begun buying up as much Cane King rum as suited them. Some stocked up to resell and others to enjoy, but all were buying thanks to the sudden and fervent advertising of Mr. Cartier. He'd sent out servants swinging sample trays to swill all over town. The collective drunkenness among citizens alongside the excitement of recent events made for a city wide spectacle. It seemed duels and drinks drove sales and sail alike. 

The buzz surrounding the affair became the calm before the storm on the day of. A party sent by the challenger arrived at the docks in the early afternoon along with a parade of onlookers. The usual liveliness of the harbor was instead abated by prolonged eager silence, joined only by the lapping of the waves and the stomping of boots. 

"Captain Whetstone!" A pair of whompers shouted at each ship they passed, waiting a moment before moving on to the next. They looked for her at the restaurant as she had requested, but she never arrived. The challenger's party consisted of two whompers dressed in deep blues featuring ornate silver trim, a large and muscular hemulen clad almost entirely in leather, and a nibling carrying a long red velvet box. Down the docks they shouted, and down the docks more and more onlookers followed shortly behind. 

"Captain Whetstone!" The whompers cried, over and over above the murmurs that had begun to swell. The captain, still fast asleep in her quarters, awoke with a start. 

"Who wa- is… wha..whasit you want!" She stumbled to her feet, eyes squinted, an empty bottle tumbling from atop her to the floor. She quickly realized the voice was coming from outside the ship, and fastened a robe around her waist. Marion awoke from the commotion as well, following Whetstone's lead. The pair exited the captain's quarters to the sour faces of an armed and ready crew. 

The first mate of The Honeyed Word, an older hemulen woman by the name of Ruth, spoke up from between puffs on her pipe. "I imagine that's fer you Cap'n. They've like to come a'callin' on her account." She motioned to Marion. 

"I imagine so, too, aye. Worry not, I ain't steered you lot wrong yet, 'ave I?" Whetstone winked, and made for the deck, Ruth and Marion following just behind. The mood was tense, and not all of the crew were sure of their captain's judgements as of late. She arrived at the railing, rubbing the sleep from her eyes to see dozens upon dozens of folk, all waiting on her. The leather clad hemulen, who had presumably been hired muscle, shook his head at the sight of the supposed legendary pirate dressed in a frilly nightgown and robe. 

"What do ye want?" The captain shouted. 

"Captain Whetstone!" The whompers cried once more in unison. The nibling in the party opened his velvet case to reveal a long brass horn, about three times his size. He set up a tripod and rested the other end of the horn on it. The small creature drew a deep breath before filling the air with a short, but very very loud melody. The muscular hemulen covered his ears, and shook his head once more. "You've been summoned to duel the great Jules Cartier at his manor! We shall escort you!" The whompers bowed.

Marion appeared just behind the captain, wrapping her arm around the small of her back. She was similarly dressed in a silk robe and nightgown. In her other paw, she held a steaming teacup, and passed it along to Whetstone, who took a long, slow sip. 

"But we 'aven't even had breakfast!" The moomin protested loudly.

"It's past noon!" The hemulen mercenary shouted, palming his face, and shaking his head once more before storming off. He parted the crowd, grumbling to himself on the way out. The nibling took up his horn once more, apparently announcing the departure of one of their party, much to the dismay of the gathered crowd's ears. 

Ruth approached the duo, dropping on the deck just behind them their clothes, and the captain's sword with an unceremonious thud. "Don't be comin' back if ye don't win." She spit to the side.

"When I do come back, we'll be 'avin' words, Ruthie. Strong ones, too, I reckon. Mind yer tongue 'round yer captain." Whetstone began to put on her boots.

"If only ye could mind yers 'round whatever gal ye be fancyin' of late. Wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't fer you. Now the whole of Marseille wants a look at us, and the whole of the world wants the price on our heads. Keep yer promises, cap. Er I'll be keepin' 'em fer you." She headed below deck.

"Whaddaya reckon that means, Marion?" She looked around, puzzled.

"I imagine it was pretty straightforward, but you pirates are a bit hard to understand sometimes. Verbally, I mean." 

The captain wheezed and laughed loudly, wiping a tear from her eye. "That we are!" She continued to get ready. "Anyway don't ye be worryin' about her, either. Everyone's a mite worked up I imagine. She's stubborn, but she's a good'un." She tossed her robe and nightgown onto the deck of the ship as she hopped over to the side of the ship to the dock. 

The whompers were still in their bowed position, and a large chunk of the crowd had begun to disperse before hearing the captain's boots slam onto the wood. She had only dressed halfway up, boots, slops, a sash, a belt and sword. Her thick fur was disheveled and unkempt, an appearance apparently befitting the crowd's idea of a pirate. Ooh's and ahh's once more took shape, whispers and whistling as well. She began pulling her shirt on as she approached her would-be escort crew, coat draped across her arm. Marion shortly after hopped over, dressed quite unlike she had when she'd arrived. She rushed to the captain's side, attempting to avoid the gaze of the murmuring crowd for too long. The challenger's party parted a path as they beckoned the duo along quietly. 

Marseille was silent and empty, shopkeeps shuddered their windows and covered their stalls, passersby rushed indoors, and the captain swaggered through the streets en route to her duel. Deep blue ribbons and brightly colored bits of decor began cluttering their path to Cartier Manor. Though sparse at first, upon nearing the manor proper, the whole of the area was densely decorated. Rugs and flower petals lined the walkway, and whatever surface could have something hanging from it, did. Red roses and white lilies were bouqueted and affixed opposite each other. Even the balconies of houses unaffiliated to the Cartier name had wreaths hung from them. The early afternoon sun baked the clouds in front of it as they gathered, and it seemed as though the sky would open up any minute. The air was humid and filled with the scent of loose flower petals being crushed underfoot, alongside the distant rains. 

The nibling rushed ahead as fast as his little feet would carry him, horn in tow. He set up  his tripod just outside a bespoke iron gate. Just beyond the gate was a vast open courtyard, filled to capacity with all manner of folk, many of which were dressed in finery.

"I'm a mite hazy, but, is yer dad always this.. dramatic?" Whetstone covered her face as she whispered to Marion. 

"Seemingly more so than usual these days. This, I'd say, is less dramatic and more… absurd? Honestly I've given up attempting to understand the man."

 "This way, Captain Whetstone." The whompers once again spoke in unison. They led her just to the side as they ushered the rest of the guests, Marion included, in through the gates. The nibling blasted the same tune as before as each made their way into the courtyard. 

"So I'm not goin' that way?" The captain said, pointing across the fence. 

"No!" The whompers said, cheerfully. Their smiles almost perfectly matched one another, along with just about everything else about them. They seemed as though they were simply pleased to be involved. 

"Can y' tell me which way I am goin'?"

"No!" They cheered once more.

The trio stood for a few more minutes as the nibling welcomed more guests with his horn. 

"Can I go in now?" The captain scratched behind her ears. Her tone was playful, but she was starting to get impatient.

"No!" They sounded almost the same every time. Captain Whetstone gave up and leaned against the fence, arms crossed. She wasn't worried about being late to the duel, nor really very much about the duel itself. The whole affair was turning out far more posh than she had imagined, and with each decoration and each passing upper crust guest, she became less and less worried. She gave into idle thought for a moment. Her mind chose distractions of all kinds, but more and more her mind wandered back to Marion. Had she made the right choice to interfere when she did that day at the docks? Had she done right by her so far? What would become of her next?  

"Ahem" 

"Wah!" Whetstone shouted, recoiling from the sudden interruption. "Who'sat!" She caught herself on the fence. 

A muddler with very long droopy ears dressed in a most garish fashion held her paw out in front of her. Her hat was massive and had a large feather sticking out from it, along with several other adornments. She wore several pin cushions in various places, and a chatelaine of sewing materials hung from her hip. 

"Ahem." She continued to hold out a paw to shake in greeting.

"What? Am I in yer way, or..?"

"Ahem. It's my name."

"What's yer name?" 

"Ahem!" 

"What?!"

The muddler sighed. "My name. My name is Ahem. As in hemming garments. It's what I do. I'm a tailor." She motioned to her collection of sewing tools and accessories.

"Taylor? But I thought y' said yer name was Ahem?"

Ahem patently ignored her. "Mr. Cartier has requested that you come along with me for the time being. Preparations for the… un-seam-ly events to come."

"...right." The captain squinted. "And will there be more sewing puns?"

"We'll put a pin in that one for now." 

"Yer too quick fer me, lass!" She laughed out loud. She was beginning to enjoy herself. Things had taken quite the turn from the serious to the silly, and she was along for the ride.

"Quick indeed." She grabbed the captain by the arm, taking her to a room just inside the manor around the outside of the courtyard. The room was littered with fabric, tools, and mannequins of all shapes and sizes. One of the mannequins featured a fillyjonk-esque head with a familiar mustache made to resemble Jules. 

"Rich bastard's got his own uhh… what do ye even call a room like this? Sewing dungeon?" Whetstone fiddled with just about everything in her path as Ahem snapped back and forth with her measuring tape across the captain's moominous form. 

"Mr. Cartier has appointed me to make a coat for you. Something a little less stolen and salt soaked. He wants you to look flashy for his big day." She rolled her eyes. 

"Big day. Pffft." She blew a raspberry. "Also I'll have you know I bought this one." She said, putting extra emphasis on the last two words. 

"Pffft indeed." Ahem pulled aside a curtain revealing a tall and nicely rounded mannequin. Upon it was a coat fit for a pirate, though very well made and quite fancy. It was entirely black save for the trim, cuffs, and pocket covers that were a deep dark red, with shining gold buttons and an interior lining of red and gold paisley. A cutlass crossed with a rose was embroidered on the left breast. She snatched it off the mannequin and draped it over the captain's shoulders. "Go on, see how it fits. Your measurements seem almost exactly what I thought they'd be." 

"It's quite lovely!" She put the coat on, pulling the sleeves over her arms. She jumped and jogged in place, bent down to touch her toes and stretched her arms. Then she mimicked punching, drawing and swinging a sword, and climbing the riggings of a ship. She pretended to draw her pistol with a flourish and blew the smoke from its imaginary barrel, and then curtsied meekly.  "Fits great! Oh, one more thing." She walked up to the Jules mannequin and planted her feet. She drew her arm back and delivered a hearty slap just as she had the first time. "It's perfect, actually." The head of the mannequin tumbled to the floor.

"Three days is hardly long enough to craft something perfect. Let alone an entire ensemble that turns a ruffian into a posh pirate renegade as Mr Cartier suggested. So you'll have to make due with only the coat I'm afraid."

"Wait, three days? He asked y' to make a coat on the day that I slapped 'im?" She let out a single loud laugh. "I musta knocked something loose! How'd ye get m' measurements, anyhow?"

"Followed you around."

"But I hardly left m' ship after that business, how'd y-"

"You left four times, actually. Two of which you brought back food and wine."

"Ha! Typical. I like you, Ahem, yer fun! An' this coat is perfectly made t' measure, most folks miss just how big I am 'round the middle. You've got me thanks." 

"You know, I think that might be the first time I've gotten a genuine compliment the entire time I've spent under the employ of Mr. Cartier. Go give him hell, captain." She smiled, pushing the moomin gently on her back towards the door. "Oh, but do mingle a bit first. I don't think Jules is quite done making a fool of himself yet. I'm sure he'll call for you." She began packing things into a large trunk.

Not long after, the strange events at Cartier Manor continued to unfold. Captain Whetstone found herself in the courtyard, and Marion in turn found her as well. Refreshments were being served on trays carried by servants in bright blue vests. The pair sat at a table under a parasol, similar settings littered the yard alongside tents, rugs, and a veritable ship's load of furniture. All of this surrounded a large stage, adorned with deep blue ribbons and flowers. 

"That's a fine coat you've found yourself." Marion eyed the embroidery, sitting across from Captain Whetstone.

"Aye? A gift from yer old man I s'pose. Funny seamstress gal made it." She lifted it to show off the liner. "Yer house is massive! Just you lot live there?"

The captain made musings about this, that, and the other, chatting idly with Marion. Time stretched on, and the outing began to seem much less like a duel, and much more like a garden party. With each offered hors d'oeuvre, the captain took at least one of each thing, most of which she tried and set aside without finishing. She did, however, finish each flute of champagne that was brought by. 

The captain held a glass at eye level, staring at the champagne within, boredom getting the better of her. "Marion, how do ye reckon they get the bubbles in th–"

"Welcome, all!"  A voice boomed from the stage, commanding everyone's attention. "Today marks a momentous and fateful occasion." Jules' theatrical manner of speaking finally suited the situation. 

He had chosen an outfit of deep blues and bright whites, with silver buttons. Each article bore a motif of white lilies, trimmed with shimmering silver. The calves and sleeves of his outfit were tight and fitted, while the rest was loose and flowing. All of it was made of a shiny satin exterior, and he wore a large and gallant cape upon his shoulders. It was no doubt the work of the same tailor of Whetstone's coat. His hair was slicked back, and his mustache was waxed into perfect, symmetrical points. Behind him stood a short and portly older moomin, with a curly powdered wig. He was dressed similarly to Mr Cartier, though much simpler and with a brooch bearing the symbol of the King's navy. 

"Today, we bring a close to the scourge upon the seas. I, Jules Cartier, am to end the career of a pirate that has so long plagued the open waters." Not a word left his lips without some manner of posing added to it. Bravado seemed a natural calling for him. "But I, ladies and gentlemen, am no brute! We duel today only to first blood. I have called upon the aid of Governor Woodes Rogers, an experienced pirate hunter, to take down alongside me the infamous Captain Whetstone!" 

Gasps were shared by the crowd, most of whom had likely never heard of Rogers nor Whetstone before the last few days. Jules was building drama for a performance, and the audience was absolutely enraptured. 

"Should your hero prevail today, Miss Whetstone will voluntarily turn herself in at my behest. The streets of Marseille will no longer be subject to her whims, and its surrounding seas shall stand as an affront to all pirates who would dare approach!" 

Rogers, the moomin standing behind Jules, stepped forward. He unfurled an almost comically long document and cleared his throat. "Captain Whetstone, of her own free will, submits heretofore under the crown and will be granted clemency for all acts perpetrated during her stints as a pirate, and shall be pressed into service of the king's navy, or be jailed at once and in perpetuity remain. Here listed are her many crimes, and associated parties-"

"You needn't continue reading Mr Rogers. They can see how long that page is." Jules interrupted. 

"Am I going crazy?" Marion whispered across the table to Whetstone. "I mean I know it's been three days. But it's only been three days. A garden party is one thing, but to organize all of this?" She rested her head in her paws for a moment.

"I don't even think that there's the real Woodes Rogers." She squinted at the man from her seat. "Last I heard it, he were bankrupt or some such. Sued by his own crew. Ought t' be down n' out, not out n' about putzing around France." She searched her pockets for her pipe, remembering that she wasn't wearing her old coat. "That page he's got is like as any t' be blank I'd bet."

"Captain Whetstone, to the stage if you would!" Jules shouted, finishing his speech. 

Marion looked across the table, only now showing her fear. "Be careful up there. He's quicker than he looks." 

"It'll be over 'fore ye know it, lass. If yer dad wants to put on a show fer these folk, then I say let's give 'em a show." She picked up her champagne flute, and swaggered up to the stage. She took her place across from Jules.

"The fearsome pirate captain, Whetstone. Ruffian. Ne'er-do-well. Scoundrel and scallywag. You've plundered your way through the seas and sewn chaos among the citizenry, but that all ends today." Jules once again performed for the audience rather than speaking.

"Aye. All that n' more. And none of it could sate the devil inside me." She growled, mostly unconvincingly. She was, at best, unseasoned as an actor. 

"You're drunk!" Jules said, tugging on a pair of leather gloves. 

"An' yer annoying!"

"Name your second." 

"My what?" The captain shot him a puzzled look. 

"Your second. Someone you trust to bear witness to the duel. Have you never had a proper duel in your life? And yet how many have fallen to your sword alone? How barbaric." Jules rolled his eyes. 

"Ah. Marion'll do it. She's good like that, seems despite yer efforts t' the contrary, you've raised a very capable young woman."

Jules flinched, balling his hands into fists as the captain shouted for Marion to join them on stage. He swallowed his anger, and continued the show. The moomin who may or may not have been Woodes Rogers presented a velvet box, and a servant presented another. They opened the lids revealing one to have within it a set of ornate dueling pistols with pearlescent grips. The other box contained two sideswords decorated with gold engravings upon their blades. 

"The challenged may choose the weapons. The seconds shall inspect the weapons to ensure fairness and quality. Once we are all in agreeance, we shall separate ten or twenty paces, face one another, and the duel can begin in earnest upon the signal of each second." Jules delivered his clearly practiced lines to the crowd. 

"Well I meant what I said. I won't be killin' a man in front o' his own daughter. No pistols. First blood." 

"Swords it is, then. Ten paces instead." 

"I ain't usin' one o' yer swords neither. I made this cutlass and ye won't part me from it." She removed her sword from her belt, handing it to Marion, who had just arrived on stage. "You and yer second can inspect that'un." 

"Very well, captain. I suppose I should have expected no less from a pirate." His words were intensely venomous, annunciating each word with a pompous anger. He turned to face the audience. "The pirate has elected to use her own, crude blade even within the context of a gentlemanly duel!" This elicited whispers from the crowd.

Jules paid no mind to Marion as she presented Whetstone's sword to him and his second. They looked at it for only a moment and both scoffed, despite its elegance and craftsmanship. The captain and her second both carefully examined Jules' blade, finding no flaw or alterations. They agreed, and each took their sword as they took their place on stage. The crowd was silent, and the sound of thunder echoing in the distance was joined only by the footsteps of the two duelists as they took their paces.

Jules held his sword point up, taking a dueling stance as he measured each pace. The captain had returned her sword to its scabbard, and was still holding her flute of champagne. She took each step as though she were crossing stones in a river, occasionally pretending to lose her balance playfully as she watched the audience. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

With each step Marion's heart raced, she feared for her future, and for her newfound freedom. She'd found a fondness these last three days and had mostly forgotten her anger to her father until she met with him once more on stage. 

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. 

Jules gripped his sword tightly, eager to rewrite himself as a hero to the people of Marseille. He turned in his position, waiting for the signal from the seconds. The captain turned as well, sword sheathed, glass in hand. 

"At your will, Mr Rogers." Marion stood beside him near the rear of the stage, out of the duelists' way. Her voice was shaky.

"Begin!" Woodes Rogers shouted without hesitation.

Jules lowered himself, rushing into a full sprint. 

The captain tossed her glass into the air, straight. She drew her cutlass quick as lightning, and with incredible speed and precision, cut the stem from the bell. As the glass descended, she caught it in her paw. The audience gasped, a few even squealed as the base sailed far off into the crowd. 

Jules stopped in his tracks for a moment, on guard. It was too late to back out now, despite the impressive display. 

She took a long, protracted sip before gently setting the unharmed top half of the glass onto the stage upside down next to her, empty. "I hope y' brought yer dancing shoes." She extended her arm, the point of her sword idly aimed at her opponent. 

He rushed to strike first, despite his showmanship he aimed to end the duel as fast as he could. He thrust to the captain's side. She sidestepped, grabbing his wrist with her empty paw, and used his momentum to throw him to the ground. He landed with an anticlimactic albeit quite loud thud on his back. 

"That's disappointing, Jules. I thought y' wanted to give these fine folk a show." She spoke at stage volume. She stood over him, the tip of her cutlass resting just above his chest.

"It's to first blood, captain." He gripped his sword tightly, and swept at her ankles. "And I'm not bleeding yet!" He jumped to his feet the moment she was on the defensive. 

She back-stepped, narrowly avoiding his swing. The audience roared to life having been in rapt silence during their first exchange. They shouted and cheered, nearly drowning out the following clanging of steel. 

Jules ferociously delivered cut and thrust after cut and thrust, he was as well practiced as Marion had said. He'd not met an opponent yet that could hold against his onslaught, and yet the captain was calm and focused, dodging and deflecting each of his blows. 

Whetstone feinted high as she had done with Marion, then swung low at his legs, cutting just the fabric of his pant-leg as he changed his stance. 

She laughed. "Ha! Got yer daughter with that'un, too!" 

He snarled, lunging in and following up with several repeated thrusts. The captain knocked each of them aside. She bound her sword against his and closed any distance between them, using her weight to throw him off balance. Jules fell to the ground once more, but rolled off his back and onto his feet again. He rounded her, swapping sides hoping to gain an advantage. He threatened a cut, but dropped his leg and reached out for a long thrust to the captain's inside line. She had previously been neglecting it and stepping aside, and she wouldn't step aside if she had thought it was a cut. He drove his point home as fast as he could, and then-

Thwap!

Whetstone batted aside his blade by the flat using her paw! She charged in now that he was open, blade raised high. He managed to raise his guard just in time, barely withstanding the weight of an oversized moomin crashing against his sword arm like a heavy wave against a ship's bow. He rounded his opponent once more, returning to his side of the stage. 

Jules hated being on the defensive. He hated even more his opponent. He hated that despite his assuredness in his own skill and the effort he put into this display, he had not bested the captain as quickly as he had hoped. His off hand left his hip, abandoning his dueling stance. He abandoned his footwork, too, in exchange for a mad dash. He began throwing wild cuts in front of him as he charged, yelling the whole way. She threw all of her might into one heavy cut, knocking his sword off line once again. He reeled, regaining his composure. 

He realized that he could not beat her in a competition of strength, nor speed.  He would have to stay calm and search for an opening. "The leg!" He thought to himself. "She may be twice the size of your average moomin, but she's still got shorter legs than a fillyjonk!" He closed in once more, focusing in on waist level thrusts. He began changing his rhythm, repeating the same passing steps in his approach. He'd stab and wait for her to cut, then step and do it again. Biding his time until she went for something trickier.

Whetstone noticed the change in his attitude. He was lithe and by now much more warmed up. It was as though he'd settled into the flow of battle. She held both arms out to her side, as if to say "come at me!" Completely opening up her defenses. He threw a cut to her chest, following up on her opening. She took her sword by its spine at one end, and the grip with the other, and swung up as though she were forcing open a window. He reeled once more as his sword was knocked away, but the captain was wide open for exactly the kind of attack he'd hoped for. He readjusted, then swung for her thigh. 

Seeing this, she leapt back once, being caught off guard by such a near miss. She'd kept her cool through most of the fight, but she was beginning to worry that her fooling around might cost her new friend dearly.  She leapt back again, escaping his reach. She spun off her front leg. Jules watched, unsure of the captain's intentions with such a maneuver. He saw her rear leg swoop up midway through the spin, and then back down as she completed it, as if in slow motion. At first he was confused, but then he remembered. "Oh no." He thought. "Not like this!" 

Her back foot kicked the glass she had left on stage, sending it flying straight at his face. He brought up his sword to block it, or knock it aside, but it was in vain. It shattered against the base of his blade, sending shards flying past it. The collective gasp from the previously uproarious crowd would have sucked the air from the room were they not outside. Even the coming storm stood silent as a trickle of blood ran down Jules' forehead. He reached up and touched it gingerly, examining the aftermath upon his paw. 

"I believe that's first blood, Mr. Cartier." The captain flourished with her sword a moment before returning it to its scabbard. She faced the audience, curtsied meekly, and headed off toward Marion at the rear of the stage. Much of the crowd were confused, some even angry. There was cheering and jeering alike, booing and whistling. Jules remained on stage, utterly defeated as the rain began gently dropping. 

"Congratulations, Miss Whetstone." Jules said. His voice was much less performative, taking on a sinister tone. The captain continued her stride, merely raising her paw dismissively. "You have won the duel…" Jules rushed toward her. "But you will lose your life!" 

"Whetstone! Look out!" Marion cried as loud as she could. 

The captain turned to see Jules just behind her, and coming right at her head was the tip of his sword. She threw herself back, headfirst, but it was too late. His sword dug into her face and tore across her left eye, stopping around the middle of her forehead thanks only to luck and to Marion's warning. She shouted in pain, clutching at the wound on her face with one paw and drawing her sword with the other. 

"This isn't fair!" The wouldbe Woodes shouted, sprinting away. He stumbled into the table that had the dueling boxes atop it, knocking it over. "You didn't tell me you were going to kill her!" 

The audience bellowed with shouts of a similar kind. 

"The duel is over! Stop!"

 "You lost! Give it up!"

"He's lost his mind!"

 Many voices cried over one another.

Several members of the audience shrieked in fear from the sight of so much blood, and several others rushed to the stage in an attempt to stop him from continuing his assault.

"Y' cowardly bastard!" The captain growled, fighting as hard as she could with the use of only one eye. "Marion! Get yerself outta here!" She looked around in a half blind panic.

"Duel or no duel, she's a wanted woman! To the man who brings me her head, you'll claim the bounty and I'll make you the richest man in Marseille!" Jules drew the crowd into a frenzy. Those who weren't tempted by his offer began running to the gate, and those who were tempted began surrounding the stage. They were unarmed but very much outnumbered the two who were now stuck between Jules, the manor, and the gate leading back out into the streets. 

Marion rushed in the same direction as Woodes, shaking with panic. She had to act, and quickly. She picked up one of the pistols from the open dueling boxes, pointing it at her father. She tightened her grip, steadying herself. She'd never fired a pistol before, and despite everything, she'd never wanted to kill her father. "Stop! Stop attacking her this instant or I'll shoot you!" She shouted. Tears were streaming down her face, her hair and clothes now soaked with rain as the storm raged on. 

The captain backed off from the fight, holding her ground as Marion made her plea. Jules stopped as well, turning to face his daughter. The herd of newly made bounty hunters waited, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. 

"Make sure you take that one alive." Jules pointed at Marion with his sword, gesturing to his makeshift militia. 

Click

Marion pulled the trigger, filled with an array of strong emotions that all burnt up in her anger. Jules paused briefly, seemingly offended. His eyes were wide and mouth agape. The flint struck the frizzen, yet there was no smoke, no flash, no bang. The rain had soaked the powder thoroughly, forcing her threats empty.  

The moment seemed to drag on, the clear line in the sand now drawn between Marion and her home life. She screamed, barely able to hear herself as she threw the gun at him, reaching next for the sword left in the box. The captain used this as an opportunity to rush to Marion's side, scooping her up in a bridal carry at full sprint, off stage. 

"After them, you fools!" Jules regained focus after his brush with death. He'd gone too far now to give up. He'd all but given up on raising his daughter to be the way he wanted her, but he refused to relinquish even the slightest bit of control, especially to a pirate. 

Captain Whetstone ran as fast as she could toward the gate. The path was clear and the only remaining bystanders had just made it through. Jules was the fastest among the duo's pursuers, quickly taking charge ahead of his group. The grass underfoot was slick, and the rugs placed upon it now waterlogged. Thunder crashed within the sky, bellowing throughout the humid air below. 

"Come back you coward! Blaggard! Face your fate!" Jules shouted above the racket of the storm as he ran. 

The captain stumbled, woozy from her injury, dropping Marion in the process. They both stopped only a moment, with Jules gaining on them. The gate was tantalizingly near, and their hope for escape pushed them onward. The pair righted themselves and passed the threshold, soon to be followed by Jules and his cohorts. 

"I have you now, you wretch!" Jules raised his sword, closing in. He chanced a cut at the captain's leg rather than attempting to tackle a woman likely twice his weight. 

tst-BOOM

A shot rang out, crushing beneath it for a moment the sound of storm and step alike. Smoke plumed from a covered balcony one floor up, just outside the gate to the Cartier Manor courtyard. Whatever onlookers remained nearby scattered at the sound. 

"I reckon I already told ye…" a hoarse voice spoke from behind the smoke. "Keep yer promises, Cap'n. Lest I be keepin' 'em fer ye." A rugged hemulen woman set her spent rifle to the side, lifting a loaded one from a row against the railing she was perched at. 

For the briefest of moments the world fell silent as those in the vicinity searched for the object of Ruth's aim. The silence broke with the anguished scream of Jules, his sword clattering to the ground as he clutched his arm where he'd been shot. 

"Ruthie!" The captain shouted, gleeful and relieved. 

"Put some wind in yer sails, kid! Ye promised me no foolishness. Ye get that girl outta here, an' maybe I won't be considr'in it foolish n'more!" She took aim, putting a shot between the wounded Mr Cartier and his thugs. The shot caused a few of them to rethink, running back into the courtyard. She once again set her empty rifle aside, picking up a fresh one. "Avast! I've got 'nuff guns up 'ere to take the lot of ye! What'll it be?" She asked the duo's pursuers, mounting her gun on the railing.

Captain Whetstone and Marion ran as far and as fast as they ever had before. Despite eventually making their escape, the two were in need of leave from Marseille. Jules' ire is doubtless to have stirred all manner of trouble, and he had a wound to prove his opponent's guilt. When they arrived at the docks that evening, out of hiding, The Honeyed Word was no longer moored at the harbor. The surrounding area was lousy with law, searching for the both of them. They spent that night together in a cove on the beach tending to Whetstone's wound, making plans for tomorrow and the tomorrow beyond that. 

–

"That's awful, Miss Puukko!" Moominmama had returned from the kitchen to the veranda with a tray set for coffee. She set it down upon the table, having a seat next to her husband. 

"Yes, quite! And what became of the two of you next?" Papa asked from his seat across the table. His agreeance to Mama's exclamation was betrayed by the excitement in his voice. He held a love for all things nautical as well as for a good story, and could not hide it. 

The fluffy brown moomin scratched at the underside of her snout, eyes fixed on the distance as she reminisced. It was a calm, and pleasantly warm evening in Moominvalley. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon and crickets chirped from their hiding places. She puffed on her pipe, exhaling deeply with a contented sigh. She bore a scar across her left eye, and the heavy brow of a long life. Seeing her dressed comfortably, swapping stories on the veranda,  you'd hardly believe she'd once been a fearsome pirate captain. Obscurity suited her quite well, as the last breath of a legend long past. 

"In my absence, Ruthie 'ad told me crew t' weigh anchor an' make fer somewhere near. I reckon I'd consider her t' be a hero, least by my account anyway..." She took another drag off her pipe. "Trouble were certain to have found them if she hadn't got 'em outta there. That was the last anyone saw of her. Sent some men that-a-way fer to go about findin' her some time later. Not hide nor hair. I think she aimed t' make the rest o' her life a quiet one."

"But you pirates are all flare and bravado! A life of excitement, and er, uh, and freedom! Why would you want to give up that?" Moominpapa gestured in his chair as he spoke. 

"Papa…" his wife laid her paw on his arm as if to settle him down. 

"It's a fine thing t' be sure, fer a spell. But it's got its rigors. I fear what I mean t' say ain't kind enough fer this valley. It's foul, and it's wretched. Turn folk into beasts and beasts into.. well I hardly even know what ye'd call it. Bastards 'n scoundrels. When ya find a one like the one I were sweet on, well… it's hard t' live a life like that seein' thems that you'd protect with their teeth gritted behind a sword." She dropped a sugar cube into her cup, watching it slowly dissolve beneath the dark waves of coffee. 

"And to think I'm the one writing memoirs." Papa mused. "And what happened to Marion?"

"After we made it back aboard me ship, I weren't in a way fit fer sailing. Without a first mate and without their captain and helmsman, the crew had t' band together. They fell in with Marion right quick. She'd read up on sailing her whole life, call to the sea an' all that. Just ne'er put it to practice. Did a good turn at the old bailiwick once more, plundered as many ships carryin' the Cane King stuff 'tween Nassau, Curaçao and near Marseille as we could. She learnt t' be quite fierce in a short while. A force to be reckoned with under my care. We became as tall tales walkin'... We got t' bein' quite close, too. Didn't ne'er get to talking out the particulars though, I'm afraid." 

She stopped for a moment, enjoying the coffee, company, and relative peace and quiet. Ever since she'd moved to Moominvalley she'd known more peace than she ever had. Even in her own childhood home,  there were always storms and turmoil. As no more than a pup on the seas apprenticing under good men, she knew even further strife and noise. From her start on the seas she thought she could earn the peace she had now, and never did. 

"It's funny how misfortune and heartache can get ye where ye need t' be goin'. We coulda stayed tall tales iffin things hadn't shaken out like they did. The thing about it is…" She took one last puff on her pipe before tapping it into the ashtray. 

"Whether or not ye tuck it when ye run, if ye made yer tale long enough, someone always catches ye by it in the end. But that's a story fer another time I suppose."

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

yazs faith in my fic mostly amounts to no alcohol and vegetarian jelly babies and vague religious anxiety on occasion, partially bc i dont know a lot about islam so i dont really have a lot to work with and partially because the show doesnt really give us a whole lot to work with either

but i do kinda like how, especially in this current fic where i give her a sort of explicit eating disorder past, that like, the main ways that god ends up playing a role in her daily life this way is through what she puts in her mouth or not

if the doctor is restrictive, emotionally psychologically nutritionally, and the master is excessive, yaz sort of hovers in the middle, pulled at from both sides

seduced by restriction vs seduced by excess. swallowing your anger vs spitting it out. desire and consumption and the way the human and the holy meet in the fallible body. you can become the doctor by acting like the doctor. you can make yourself holy by Doing The Right Actions

[uhsolikethis]

I usually lean more towards fluff and humor but I got a Dark Romance AU for SamBucky or SamSteve depending on the ending.

So, Sam and Steve have been together for about 2 years now, and Sam feels like he has finally found the one. But things start to feel a bit off when he notices Steve acting a bit strange. He keeps his phone on silent, says he's at work, but when Sam calls Steve's job, he hasn't shown up for that day, and he's changed his passwords on his laptop and phone. Sam thinks Steve is cheating on him. So he hires a private detective.

Enter Bucky, PI for hire, and Steve's on again off again, best friend who's just got back from overseas. Sam has no idea who Bucky is. Bucky has been a sensitive spot for Steve for years and he has vaguely brought him up but never truly talked him for personal and safety reasons.

Anyway, Sam hires Bucky to get information on Steve. Bucky, who still cares for Steve, finds this situation funny and is going to Spy on Steve as a joke and later reveal his connection to Steve, but Bucky is starting to fall in love with Sam.

The more time he spends with Sam, the deeper in love he falls. He wants to be with Sam himself so he gathers all the evidence on Steve's affair and brings it to Sam, breaking them up in hopes of being with him. But here's the thing Steve might not actually be cheating on Sam. And that's what this story is about.

Is Bucky lying about Steve cheating on Sam in order to be with Sam, or did Steve actually cheat on him? If he's not cheating, what was Steve lying and keeping secrets about? Also, why did Bucky spend so much time overseas? Who can Sam trust in this situation, and what about his own secrets?

[queseraphita]

Lies of P could exist in Yoko Taro's Drakenier universe, and no one would even notice it being anywhere out of place

*smacks my string conspiracy board*

WHITE CHOLORNATION SYNDROME

[hollewdz]

another one of the many prompts from the years of g/t daydreaming i have done

Waking up from a deep sleep, you find yourself absolutely covered in dirt. The fuck? It feels like you were buried, but with some effort you're able to sit up and brush yourself off. Looking around, you see miles and miles of open prairie and rolling hills. This must be a dream, you tell yourself. The sun hangs low in the sky, and you feel the chill of nightfall creeping up on you. The number one priority is finding somewhere to sleep for the night, not that you're super serious about the situation, considering you're still in dreamland. You decide west is the optimal travel direction, as it will give you at least a little more daylight. After an hour of walking with nothing in sight, you see a town on the horizon line- relief washes over you. Thank goodness, I didn't want to figure out a way to camp. Something's strange, though, as you're approaching this town. The perspective is off somehow, and soon enough you figure out what the problem is- It's frickin' tiny. Not only that, but the town looks... mediaeval? Sort of? Thatched roofs, cobblestone pathing, lit torches, a well-used horse stable are just a few of the things you notice.

Movement calls your attention, seeing tiny pairs of eyes peek from nearly drawn shutters, slamming shut as soon as your gaze meets theirs. "What the fuck?" you can't stop yourself from muttering. Looking down to your feet, you see you've trampled a tiny field you had failed to notice. "Shit-" you breath, moving to an open area. "H-hello? Can someone help me out? I don't know what's going on..." Coming to your knees with a slight panic slowly setting in, you try knocking on the windows to see if any of these tiny people can get you some answers. "Ow!" Something sharp pierced your thigh- quickly turning, you see a tiny man with an equally tiny pitchfork, trying desperately to yank it out of your leg, presumably to get another attack in. "Hey, can you- OW- Dude, I haven't even done anything-" you stammer, going to grab for the small assailant. "Stillnes ûs of pro ic syndrige, ent!" he yells, giving a grunt as your hand finally finds him, dwarfing his form. The pitchfork clatters to the cobbled ground as you sit up and address the tiny, angry villager flailing in your palm. "Man, can you chill out? I really only want to know what's going on, I'm not gonna go godzilla on you all or whatever," But, when you bring the man to eye level and really get a look at him, you see terror and a determination you hadn't expected. The lingering sting of the pitchfork buzzes on your leg, and slowly, you come to a realization. "Oh. This is definitely not a dream, huh?"

[thedrotter]

I have a gift for y'all today !!! 😊 Ever wanted to find a line in Re:Kinder in a single place for the sake of reference?? How about multiple chunks of lines. how about all the little variations that arise in the text with it's many endings, item descriptions, text that comes from interacting with the enviroment, and character info from the menu without having to boot up the game and go through it at long minutes!!???

well i sure did😊 Since I do a lot of fanart and think up my own silly theories and thoughts that need me to reference the game lines a lot, i have made a transcript for it for convenience's sake. A weirdly thorough transcript handwritten and proofread by me including all character lines available in-game. And I'm sharing it with you all today for anyone that wants it !!! :3 To use as a reference for creative fanworks or a quick search for a line in-game, whatever you wish to use it for!!

It uses the english translation of the game by vgperson. So naturally all credit for the game lines available in here is to her and Parun who made the game.

I did my best to organize it in a way easy to digest. Do note that I'm still human, and there's still the chance for mistake in it no matter how much I've proofread it, since I'm not even an english native speaker ^^. But I hope it serves you well nonetheless if you wish to use it.

That's my gift for today!!! Not the usual art, but still a project I'm proud of. Enjoy!!! 😊

[pardonmydelays]

"i don't think i'll ever understand musicals the way you do" is something i've heard from one of my friends a couple of days ago when i told him i'm about to cross the whole country just to see one of those (my favourite one!) live in theatre. and i can't blame him. if you'd have told me a year ago that i would do something like that, i'd probably have laughed in your face. life is so unpredictable. i guess i have changed a lot. and i could write thousands of essays about how musicals helped me get through the shittiest period of my life, but we are not going to talk about this today. today we are talking about in the heights, the first musical i got a chance to experience live in theatre, hopefully not last. so grab a cup of coffee and make yourself comfortable, this is going to be the longest essay you've ever seen, friends.

a little warning: spoilers. a lot of them actually. so if, by any chance, you haven't seen/heard it yet and you are going to, don't read it.

first thing i feel like i need to mention is that they had this mini bar inside the theatre and you could order a lot of different drinks there and one of them was called abuela's coffee. i heard one lady explaining to someone that it's actually coffee with condensed milk. my jaw dropped and i was like CAN I STAY HERE FOREVER, PLEASE? for those who don't understand why, here's a quote from the first song:

USNAVI: abuela, my fridge broke, i got café but no con leche ABUELA CLAUDIA: try my mother's old recipe: one can of condensed milk

so this was my first "OH! THEY GET IT!" moment (a little note here: i had a lot of oh, they get it moments, mostly because i don't have any people around me who understand musicals the way i do... honestly, you'd have to live inside my brain). that was the first time ever when i could actually be in the room where it happens with all those people who get it and care about it as much as i do (mostly actors and people responsible for the whole show tho, but we will get to this later).

let's get to the show. so when i finally went inside and i saw the stage, i already had tears in my eyes (don't judge me please). usnavi's store, abuela's door, daniela and carla's salon, all those puerto rican, cuban and dominican flags (one couple behind me was trying to figure out which one is which and it was funny because i knew and i wanted to scream)... listening and memorizing the whole soundtrack is one thing. being able to experience it all live is something else. all those things around me were so familiar and this was the first time in months (MONTHS! OR EVEN YEARS!) i felt really understood. after all, it was all like a little celebration of lin's story (the one i love with all my heart) and i truly felt like home. so that was another OH! THEY GET IT! moment.

i don't think i'm going to talk about every single song here, that's not the point. i will talk about my favourite moments, but also about things that didn't work very well in my opinion (again: this was a polish version so all the songs were translated into polish. and they did a really great job here, surprisingly. but it wasn't perfect, more about that later).

one thing you need to understand is that i will never be normal about musicals so of course i had to burst into tears at the very first song (i don't even know why, i think i was a little bit too excited). i was actually crying in the most random moments like when i first saw nina or at the end of carnaval del barrio because I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT (who the hell cries at carnaval del barrio when everyone is having the time of their lives lol, me apparently).

ok, so the first song. the choreography, oh my god. it was everything. the translation was also pretty good here, i need to say this was probably one of my favourite moments. imagine me leaving today giggling like a child when usnavi came on that stage and started rapping, i was in heaven. also, i have to admit, the cast was amazing. i could never imagine anyone better for this role (and again, i am talking about polish actors because everyone knows who's the best usnavi of them all). he was cute and charming and awkward and so adorkable and also really handsome. he was actually perfect in my opinion.

i kinda lost my mind when i saw nina for the first time. first of all: i already knew who was going to play her and let's just say i fell in love with this actress before i even saw her live on that stage. this was important to me, because (as some of you know) nina rosario is my favourite character. and oh my god, she was an absolute perfection. what a voice, sweet jesus. i'm being serious, this girl is so talented, give her every award (i honestly hope i will have a chance to see her again one day, i'm just crazy about her). and breathe was so good! polish version was amazing, i was so scared they would screw it up, but they didn't, so all's good (this song is very important to me, ok?). also, she's a phenomenal actress, i could feel all her emotions for real. and of course i cried, what did you expect?

i don't have that much to say about benny, except that he was really cute and he had amazing chemistry with nina, so once again, the casting was really good. i mean, he is not chris jackson of course, but i have decided i'm not going to compare all those actors because everyone knows at this point how much i love OBC, i was trying to have an open mind. vanessa was also pretty great, amazing voice and her dancing skills, wow, just wow. i could talk about all those actors for days actually, but i'm not going to do that, so i will just quickly mention that i absolutely loved daniela and carla, abuela claudia made me cry, sonny was the funniest character in the whole play and i don't think i will ever recover after piragua guy's performance (i was the only person in the audience who was laughing when he came on that stage, they don't get it, ok? polish people have no sense of humour and that's a fact). actually, there were a lot of funny moments (obviously) and i was the only person who was laughing, god help me.

so let's get to the first thing that was a little disappointing for me. you will not believe it, but it was actually... 96,000 (this is one of my favourite songs and i seriously can't live like this). it's not the translation tho (it was honestly fine), it's the voice overlapping part at the end (again, the best thing ever, just listen to we don't talk about bruno from encanto and non-stop from hamilton and you will understand why it works so well in every lmm's song). the thing is, you could actually only hear vanessa's part and i wanted to die, because EXCUSE ME. i always sing usnavi's part and you could barely hear a word from it. but apart from that, the rest was fine, the choreography was amazing and it's just something i needed to mention because i had thoughts about it.

paciencia y fe! ok besties, i have thoughts, again. abuela claudia was absolutely incredible, also, her relationship with usnavi is something that you can't see in the movie version (they were so sweet i wanted to curl up and die. i knew about it before, i saw slime tutorial with obc on yt, ok? i'm pretty sure lin would be mad at me for watching bootlegs lol. i just wanted to say this). the translation didn't work out at the very end of the song tho, because when in the og version abuela sings about the "winning ticket", everyone knows already she won the lottery. i don't remember polish translation exactly, but it was something with double meaning, depends on how you interpret it, and i'm 100% sure people who didn't know the plot just didn't catch it. the rest of the song was absolutely beautiful tho.

when you're home. i was so afraid of this one, because i am totally crazy about this song (did i ever mention lin wrote this one after one of his first dates with vanessa? no? yes? ok i'll shut up about this now). oh, they did a really great job with it and it's a relief. i have nothing else to say, except that i was crying like a baby, but this song always makes me cry so what did you expect exactly? one of the best moments for sure. again, nina and benny's chemistry was absolutely incredible.

as much as i loved the club, i was actually really disappointed with one part, which is usnavi's famous "jealous i ain't jealous, i can take all these fellas, wHaTeVaaaaa". i've been waiting so long for this! and they messed it up with their stupid cringy translation which i don't even remember at the moment but usnavi was actually mad at benny and he cursed? ANYWAY. the rest of the song was great and the choreography was absolutely phenomenal, oh vanessa! let me get the next one! (i love her so much, she was amazing here). a little note from me: no one was laughing at the "no hablo ingles" part, NO ONE BUT ME!!! THEY DON'T GET IT! WTF! i was so mad (i am aware of the fact that most people probably didn't even know this story before and they just wanted to see a musical, not THE MUSICAL, which is totally fine. but sweet jesus, where is their sense of humour? they left it at home or what?).

and blackout was that part where the voice overlapping effect worked very well, so all's good. actually, one of the best moments for me as well. people were actually so confused when all the lights went down, but that was just so amazing. all the panic! everybody was screaming, crying! WE ARE POWERLESS! THE END OF ACT I!!! oh, i had the time of my life.

i had this weird feeling that they didn't exactly know how to translate most of hundreds of stories so they just made this song shorter than it actually is. which is fine i guess. honestly, it's better than bad translation, so i can forgive them. what i absolutely can't forgive tho is that the audience wasn't laughing at US NAVY. polish people, you have no fucking taste. i said what i said. and then again, usnavi and abuela's relationship was so sweet this song actually made me cry (mostly because i knew what was coming but also, i was just this weird girl who was sitting there in the second row and was crying at the most random moments).

ok, guys, honestly. carnaval del barrio was the best moment from the entire musical. oh, how much i want to experience it again! daniela was absolutely incredible, carla was so sweet, piragua guy stole the whole fucking show for me (seriously guys! he was just so amazing!). also, those little details i have never noticed before? i can't even tell if the same thing happened in the original version (the quality of that bootleg is actually terrible), but benny dancing with american flag somewhere in the background was so fucking funny and i don't think i will ever get over that part where at the end they were all still dancing and celebrating and nina and usnavi just ran away as fast as they could because... because you guys know what just happened. also, this is the moment i started crying.

i was so scared of it. let me tell you one thing, i experienced abuela's death at least fifty times and i still cry every single time. so atención is something i have to mention, because all the emotions and kevin's shaky voice made me burst into tears right away, and this time i wasn't the only one because i saw a lot of people crying when they realized what happened (i also heard a lot of OHs when he said abuela passed away, so yes, most of them didn't know this story and they were surprised). and alabanza was something else. believe me when i tell you i am writing this with tears in my eyes, i have never cried so much in public. this was the moment i was the most scared of and i was absolutely right because holy fuck. i was a mess. all the actors with those candles singing alabanza a doña claudia! (yes, they didn't translate it, all the spanish parts were left like in the original version and i am so grateful for that), it was just so sad and so beautiful. and this time i was actually like oh, they get it now (everyone was speechless and people were crying).

everyone must know at this point how much i adore champagne and i wasn't disappointed (thank god!). once again, usnavi was absolutely adorable here and people were actually laughing this time (also thank god!). how do you get this gold shit off? (my favourite line from the whole musical) was translated really well and the moment when usnavi and vanessa kissed! with all lights on them! this was so emotional and the audience reacted so well! we were all clapping (it was so funny to pretend like i didn't know it was gonna happen haha i was just as excited as all of them and once again i was like OH! THEY GET IT!). 10/10, would recommend.

if you think i wasn't crying during the last song, think again. one thing i absolutely hate about the movie version is that they actually changed the graffiti that made usnavi stay in washington heights, but i'm not gonna talk about that and i'm not gonna talk about vanessa also being there in the movie. in the original version it was a portrait of abuela claudia made by graffiti pete and oh boy, i lost my mind (i knew about it but i still lost my mind because it was absolutely beautiful). i got the feeling it was a little rushed in our polish version, but i can forgive them because it still made me cry. also, at the very end, usnavi did not only finally acknowledge he's home, when the song was over he pretty much told the audience that we are all home right now and may i just say... i felt that. i was home. they made me believe for the first time in my life i was where i belong, and somehow that was everything.

one thing about me is that this is actually all new to me. this was my first musical i saw live in theatre (and also lin's first child, which is exactly how it was supposed to be i think), and believe me when i tell you i've never had this much fun in my entire life, not even at all the concerts of my favourite artists. it was worth every money. it was worth spending 11 hours on the train and 11 more on my way back home, which by the way we should normalize (people are doing crazy things just to see their favourite artists on the stage and it's considered normal, so why can't we consider THIS normal?). anyway, i don't expect anyone around me to understand it the way i do, but i feel like i really found my thing, and it's all because of lin-manuel miranda, our beautiful puerto rican genius. he made me believe musicals can be cool and i truly wish i could thank him for that one day.

and like i said, in the heights is my favourite story with my favourite characters and i listened to it so many times i have memorized all the little details. experiencing it live is something completely different tho and i think it's safe to say this was the best night of my entire life. even tho most of the people in the audience didn't really get it, i finally felt like i was a part of this world created by my favourite genius and for the first time ever i felt understood. so i think i can say that now: i found my island, guys, i'm there, i'm home!

[bogos-bint3d]

Considering Yellow just came out, I'm curious how you interpret Justice!

YEAH IM FINALLY GONNA ANSWER THIS ASK FROM ALMOST TWO MONTHS AGO BECAUSE IM FEELING GOOD

Ok so I don't really know how to start so to get things going I'll begin with some pictures of them

I have to say, they give me SO many feelings. I originally started work on them long before I even knew what undertale yellow was. My first attempts at drawing them (which you can see in the top left that were used for reference) were done back in June, but I was planning things for them several months before.

I remember them actually being pretty much the very first fallen human who I felt motivated to make something with, because I saw a comic of someone's own interpretation of them. I noticed how in that comic, they went to Mount Ebott intentionally, for the other humans or something, and that was sort of the beginning of my inspiration, but I felt like I could do more with it. So, starting off with that I kinda built on it. I wanted to do something different from what I'd seen before, where they wanted to get justice on the monsters FOR hurting the humans. I remember someone saying something along the lines of them thinking justice was a little bitch, which of course was a valid interpretation, and that's what made me sorta go in a different direction.

For me, I saw justice as someone who would've wanted justice for the MONSTERS, from the very start. They were the kind of person who didn't really believe the legend of humans and monsters, but of course knew Mount Ebott was a very dangerous place. And, yknow, believed monsters were just a legend, they loved to think about the fact that if monsters WERE real, they were probably trapped unfairly. Think about Chara for example. Though they were human themself, they still hated humanity, and felt connected to the monsters. They wanted the monsters to be free and to go against the humans. I imagine justice to have been something like that. Not as much hatred for humans as Chara maybe, but still knowing of all the bad that humans had done, and, being an edgy teen, felt genius for the concept that this ""old """"silly"""" legend"" would probably have been biased in favour of the humans. (which they were actually right about. Good for them 👍🏾)

Am I explaining this correctly? I'm not sure if I am lol

So anyways, yes my justice interpretation very much did not want justice on the monsters once they discovered the legend was true, but rather was very much on the side of monsters getting justice on the humans.

Let's see, what else is there... Ah so as I was explaining before, seeing that comic also sparked the idea for me that they went there looking for someone. They'd usually never even get near to Ebott, however, they end up having to. Ok this part is like it's own separate infodump so like take a breath. So this all ties in to one of my other fallen soul interpretations, integrity. I won't get too into them right now because that is like a WHOLE OTHER CONVERSATION, so for now I am going with the BARE ESSENTIALS. Justice went there specifically to go look for integrity, because in my little interpretation thing, they're siblings. I'll show some quick things about them then straight back to Justice I prommy

Their name is Leo (I don't have a name for justice yet I'm so sorry Leo is like the only human I've named so far), and ended up on Ebott after a stupid dare by the rest of their ballet class. So anyways after justice finds Leo is like. No where at all. They have to go on over to Leo's dance class cause that's the last place they'd been and ask around the other kids to find out where their 10 year old sibling was because they'd been FUCKING MISSING FOR LIKE SEVERAL HOURS only to find out the other kids left them on MOUNT FUCKING EBOTT, where multiple other children have all DISAPPEARED upon going there. So now justice gotta go to death mountain to find their lost sibling no big deal

I feel much more nervous about talking about my fallen soul interpretations now than I would've, like, four months ago, simply because the presence of uty has had such a grip on the fandom that people have kind of accepted it as canon. I think it's actually a really stupid and petty thing to mad/sad about, because a lot of effort was out into it, and I'm sure it's very very good, but I just, well I guess we all just whish we were the best, right? I'm scared yellow will completely overshadow any other existing interpretations, and people love it so much, they won't care about my own. I REALLY hate myself for this, and I just want to say I think you should all keep loving yellow! It seems really good! This is just my own dumb fear shining through haha

But anyways, enough of that! I'll explain more about the souls another time because if I keep going on right now I might become physically incomprehensible. There is so much more about justice that I'll dump on you all another time, trust me, I just hope you all like what I've got so far ❤️ thanks :)

[jrueships]

sometimes i'll think abt a Fandom and wish it were bigger, and sometimes i'll read something from a fandom.. and wish it were smaller