#its just for fun since i have no clue what you do when you reach 1k followers lol

[fleshmaid]

#non followers can vote on this idc #its just for fun since i have no clue what you do when you reach 1k followers lol #i know half of this is like uk related but its what im into rn lol #poll

[devilfic]

girl. the honeymoon series. LIVING FOR IT. this is a really like loose request, but could you do like a charity event night? not really sure what to happen but the thought of having to reallllly sell the whole marriage thing to everyone at the event is just quite interesting. thriving rn

❝honeymoon❞

IV. sugar-coating.

parts: previously plot: an ex corners you, bringing up bad memories. bruce offers you super illegal catharsis. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, angst, eventual fluff, reader has a scummy ex, bruce is allowed to be a little bit chaotic as a treat and so are you. words: 2.8k.

"So. Wayne, huh? How's that going for you?"

You laugh behind your glass, feigning innocence with a light and fluttery "What do you mean?"

Coulson is a family friend, as much yours as he is Bruce's, and even though he's the competition, he treats you and Bruce with as much respect as you could hope for in your line of work. Bonds formed in boarding school tended not to break easily, "It's just... gotta wonder what you did to make it up to him. Last I checked, you didn't even exist to him."

You swallow your champagne, just for something better to do than flinching, "Yeah, well, he found it in his heart to hear me out. Love like that doesn't really go away."

Coulson's eyes narrow for a second. He doesn't fully believe you. In an attempt to steer toward calmer waters, he elbows you in the side, "Must've learned some impressive tricks if it got that skirt-chaser to commit." But calmer didn't mean desirable.

You really don't want to discuss what you and Bruce (don't) do in the bedroom right now, so you steer the conversation a different direction, "And how is your new girlfriend, Coulson?"

He has a lot to say about her. A violinist in the Gotham City Orchestra with two degrees and a tour coming up later this year. He tells you he'll send you and Bruce tickets, tells you that one of the tour dates is in Spain and it will line up with your anniversary next year. The mention of your anniversary makes your stomach knot up a bit; the wedding was still weeks away, and you'd only just gotten on decent speaking terms with Bruce.

If anyone here knew how thin your marriage's facade was, it would be more than an embarrassment. Your mother would waterboard you in your own blood and tears.

It helped that most people didn't have a clue. Sure, there was gossip and the occasional rumor, but it was all for "fun". It never went anywhere, and any whisper that got too big for its britches could be easily stamped out with a little effort.

But Coulson? He was a friend. He'd known you a long time. If anyone were to put weight to a rumor about you and Bruce, it would be him. Which is why you couldn't let him figure you out.

"...For a while there, I swore you and Bruce weren't on speaking terms at all." Your ears catch the last bit of Coulson's rambling, right as he settles into a silent, knowing smile. "Care to catch me up on the rekindling?"

Well, you see, there's this little thing called blackmail- "When the board appointed me as acting CEO, I felt it time to reach out and make amends. It'd been years since we'd even talked, and with him so busy with his projects, we never really saw each other either. I was surprised that he even had the time, so we met up and just talked. About everything. About the company, about his work, about... what happened. It was a little while after the flood, so it just sort of lined up at the right time."

Coulson nods, impressed and seemingly unaware you'd just pulled that out of your ass, "Damn. Near-death experiences really do wonders for the heart. And now you have a wedding coming up." He catches it before you do, the micro-expression of discomfort. You swear his smile gets bigger, "What's that? Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise already?"

"No, sorry. Not trouble. Just stress. Lots of wedding planning and company business at once. I was kind of hoping to get away from it all here, focus my efforts on alleviating others' stresses." You tip your glass in the direction of the giant banner at the entrance that reads, "Hope For Homes: Housing Gotham's Youth One Helping Hand at a Time".

Coulson doesn't take his eyes off you for a second, "Had I known you were ready to settle down, I wouldn't have let Bruce beat me to it."

“I’m sorry?”

Your friend's smile doesn't waver. You feel a chill settling in your chest, a warning that he’d taken control again. You try to casually scan the crowd for Bruce but you find him in deep discussion with some business partners and your stomach twists. He’s turned, he can’t see you. You can’t call for help.

“Ah, you know,” Coulson steps forward, a friendly distance to anyone else, “saw you and Brucie together and just got to thinking about us. You remember, don’t you?” You keep a solid expression, much to his amusement, “Or was I just a step on the ladder too?”

It’s supposed to be a joke. You ought to laugh it off. You do, stiffly, pressing your sweating glass to your inner wrist to ground yourself, “We were… 17. Weren’t we?”

“The first time, yeah.”

“How could I forget?”

“You did always like Bruce better.” Coulson comes closer. He’s close enough now that anyone would think you were just two childhood friends gossiping, reminiscing on your youth and laughing all about it. Coulson keeps up a pretty smile even as your heartbeat accelerates, “Always worried about him. Always running after him. He didn’t even give you the time of day.”

You keep smiling, “He was angry. I understood-“

“Bullshit,” and he says this so loud that a few people turn and look, but with such a joyful expression that they don’t look long, “you were obsessed with the guy! Couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing what you really are.”

Your blood curdles. You know you should correct him, but your jaw is locked tight.

"That's okay. Bruce is... fickle. One day he's in love with you, the next you're a bug on a windshield. You're no bug now, are you?"

Now he's pushing it. The hand that captures your chin is lightly scented with cardamom, what should smell pleasing and sexy and disabling. It should sweep you into familiar arms, whisk you off into a whirlwind affair that gets the whole party talking. It should spark controversy. It should make you excited to ruin your mother's plans.

Your heart pangs as you remember the look on Bruce's face. Standing in the hall, one hand on the door to the library, yours and your mother's faces illuminated in flickering candlelight. You must've looked like a monster to him the way he fled-

You grab his wrist and tug, peppering a laugh in as if this is all just one big joke, "Let go."

Coulson's eyes spark alight, "I like you the way you are. You know what you want."

"I am not a gold-digger."

"But you are. Even if mommy's pulling the strings, you like being pulled. Only someone with something to gain would play along."

He'd looked at you once like you'd hung the sun in the sky, and now you were the devourer of light. You had consumed it, put out its burning devotion in one fell swoop. And then nothing. As if you were nothing before and would never be anything after. You were nothing as he told you, in no uncertain terms-

"Coulson, let go."

"I wouldn't mind, you know. Brucie is too soft for you. My girlfriend, you know, love her to death, pretends she's not in it for the money. People like that? They come into our world and think that we don't see how it changes them. How they're driven by it just like the rest of us are. She thinks she has to prove to me that she's different. You don't have to. You're committed, I respect that. But it doesn't have to be Bruce."

Your hands tremble at your sides. Almost more than you've ever wanted anything in your life, you want to give him a shiner that would put you out of high society. Your dominant hand curls into a fist, delighted by the idea.

You go to bat off the hand that touches your hip, but when your skin meets theirs, you recognize it isn't Coulson's. You feel the coolness of their ring against your sweating palm and almost sag into it, "I leave you alone for one second, and vultures descend." Bruce places a cool, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips hover there as he turns ever so slightly towards your ex. Coulson releases your chin. "Coulson. How's Lydia?"

You shouldn't delight in the way Coulson tightens up as much as you do, "Bruce! Good to see you. She's fantastic. Tour starts later this year. You lovebirds should come."

"It's a shame she couldn't make it."

"Oh, you know how it is. I'm still in good company. Right?" Coulson turns to you, winks. His smile is rigid.

When others are around, Bruce would snap back into a Wayne: all propriety and good will. You take a look at his expression and it is unreadable. There's a faint smile there, but nothing else he gives away. He is studying Coulson quite intensely though. You don't think he's blinked in a minute.

His eyes flicker down in fake-bashfulness, "I should thank you for that. You know once the board starts talking numbers, they can't stop. Not even for a good cause." Coulson nods politely along, half-listening, "You did good seeking this one out instead. I'm sure you've heard more than enough about numbers after this past month."

It was a simple statement. Most of the people in this room had been spending their days stuffed into board meetings for the end of the fiscal quarter, talking about finance, watching the stock market, money and more money... but it was the bit at the end that did it.

Coulson's eye twitches just so. He hesitates on asking but just can't help himself, "How do you mean?"

Bruce's smile takes on a patronizing color, "Oh, the boys and I were just discussing... sorry, I thought... I assumed it was public knowledge by now, forgive me." He laughs, just a touch awkward enough that it looks like he didn't mean to say anything at all. Now Coulson's smile is falling.

Even you are curious.

Coulson crosses his arms, hugging himself, "It was... a minor error reallocating funds. Nothing more. It isn't public knowledge because it's been handled. Who told you about it?"

"Has it? Been handled, I mean."

You glance between the two of them. For the first time since he'd come over, Bruce looks back at you.

Coulson clears his throat, "It has. Anyone saying otherwise must not have anything better to talk about."

Bruce hums. His mouth falls from your temple to your cheek, placing another kiss there, then another behind your ear. The hand on your hip moves to close around your neck, holding you close so not a word slips out of the space between you and him, "Let's go."

You keep your eyes on Coulson's, watching the gentle flicker between annoyance and politeness. You throw in a giggle for good measure, "Sure thing."

Bruce peels back from you, acknowledging Coulson with little more than a nod, "Good seeing you, Coulson. I'd stick around longer but I think I'm gonna steal them home, if you don't mind."

"Not at all! I envy how much you two are obsessed with each other, truly." Coulson sips his champagne and in a bitter tone, shifts his focus to you, "Think on what I said, hm?"

The nerve.

Bruce is whisking you toward the front doors without giving you a moment to respond. He kisses you more, leans into you with an arm thrown around your shoulders and a giddy smile as he sets his barely-touched champagne on a waiter's tray.

It isn't until you two are outside by the curb that you break your silence, "Thank you."

Bruce doesn't fully acknowledge you with his body, even as his arm remains slung about you, helping keep the chill of the night off you. He sends off a message for your driver, "What for?"

That was right. You'd never actually gotten to talk to Bruce about Coulson, "He... he was questioning the marriage. Questioning if you were the right fit for me. Saying that maybe I'd be better off with someone who understands me," you grit the next part out, "the real me."

"And?"

You look at him. He's watching cars pass as your eyes prick with tears. "I don't think he understands me at all. He never did."

He appraises you out of the corner of his eye, "Could've told you that years ago."

"You wouldn't even give me the time of day four months ago."

You've got him there. You're shocked to find that he isn't annoyed, or defensive, or even ignoring you. He sucks his teeth and shrugs. Presses the bottom of his shoe into an old cigarette on the sidewalk, snuffing out a flame that had died a long time ago. "You were going to hit him. I saw you." You feel heat crawl up your neck as you remember. "I don't know what he said, but he would've deserved it."

"I... couldn't. You know I couldn't."

Bruce turns up his nose as if he's smelled something foul, "It would've felt good, though."

"Yes."

The two of you wait there, just wobbling in the wind, watching cars go by as music and chatter and people flutter out of the ballroom behind you. You don't know what you're waiting for, but you can indulge yourself once in a while. If Bruce wants to stand on the street with his arm around you doing nothing, then maybe you ought to take the time to do nothing.

A few minutes pass before Bruce releases you, nodding for you to follow him up the street. You do, even confused.

He stops right in front of a bright red convertible, a shiny and expensive thing, parked just far enough out of the way that the music is fainter here. "C'mere," Bruce instructs, walking around the front of the sports car, and you follow him, watching your step lest you fall prey to a puddle, "hold this."

He removes the handkerchief from his front suit pocket and lays it over your open palm, much to your bewilderment. Then, reaching into the inside of his jacket, he drops a batarang into your hand.

"Bruce-!" You instinctively close your hand around the thing to hide it, thankful that his handkerchief kept you from slicing your palm open, "what are you-"

"One tire is a spare. Two is a tow."

"Have you been drinking? Like actually?"

You're startled by the grin he gives you, "If we stand here all night, someone'll catch us."

You go to argue when you recognize something hanging from the car's rear view mirror. A pair of dingy, fuzzy dice. Dice you've seen before in older, just as expensive cars. This is Coulson's car.

You grab Bruce by the arm and turn him to you, "Are you insane?"

"It's better than punching him."

The batarang weighing in your hand feels a little lighter at that.

"Couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing what you really are.”

Who Coulson thought you were wouldn't slash the tires of a backup option. They'd be nice, wait it out, play the game for maximum benefit. Jump ship at the first sign of trouble. They wouldn't risk making enemies. They'd let their mother keep pulling their strings.

You sink the batarang into the first tire's sidewall sharp and quick. If Bruce is curious as to how you know how to slash tires, he doesn't ask. He moves beside you and blocks onlookers from seeing what you're doing. When you move onto the next, the entire left side of the car is beginning to sink toward the ground.

Bruce confiscates the batarang from you and quickly tucks it back into his suit pocket, calmly walking you back down the street to where your ride is waiting.

As he is holding the back door open for you, you turn to look up at him and find your breath catching at the still present grin on his face. You haven't seen him this happy to be alone in your presence in a while. It feels... familiar. He meets your eyes and you're reminded of a younger you. A you that could kiss Bruce with all the bubbling adrenaline in your veins. A Bruce that would let you. A Bruce that thought you hung the sun in the sky.

That grin of his softens but doesn't fully go anywhere. You drink it all in. You don't know when you'll see it again.

Bruce touches the small of your back as a taxi whips by, driving cool air up into your faces and breaking the moment. You indulge in the touch for as long as he lets you.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites #bw; honeymoon

[temptress-writes]

⚓️ The Endeavour

A/N: Piraterry. Nasty as hell smut. He's after some booty. He gets it and then some.

C.W: coarse language, drinking, violence, beardrrY

Sexual Content Warnings: -virgin mc -breath play. whoops. like big whoops. -blood kink -pain kink -squirting (always only the best for the gals) -beard kink (I just wanna leave it wet) -cock warming kinda (mentioned) -somnophilia (not really but a body is explored while said body is unconscious nothing explicit but wanted to list it anyway)

This smut is feral. So have fun!

Word count: 15.8k. A light meal from mama.

***

The Caribbean Sea.

1723.

The hull groaned under the shattering weight of the fierce waves, her bow slicing through swell after powerful swell.

With the tip of his hat, a burst of pride erupted in his chest at her sheer fight and force. He kept her in top shape, knowing a single slip-up would end with him and her in a sandy, unforgiving grave.

He yelled a bursting abundance of encouragement and order to his crew, who through their own sheer will and determination, held their own against the torrid waves.

They had been on the open ocean for weeks. Skewering the waves for ripples in its currents, showing the way to riches. Nothing but a captain's sheer dream to follow a path many believed to be purely fiction, rumour, and nightmare.

There were tales of an untouched island, long since forgotten by many. Except for him. The hidden place had been a bedtime story for him, his fallen mother lulling him to sleep with talk of a luscious cove, twinkling with gold and jewels, protected by sea creatures so fearsome that no one lived to warn others. Only tales made shores carried by whispering swells.

She had gone so far as to paint it for him one night, his tiny child mind so enthralled by a land he could only place as his own heaven.

Crystal clear water, a wide cove that delved into the land with hidden secrets that if reached, guaranteed the succeeder a lifetimes worth of riches.

He kept the painting. Folded it up tight and stored it in his locket, right next to his heart. It hung from the chain his father had left him, the only reminder he had of his parents before they fell ill when he was barely a teen.

With nothing but the clothes on his back and the memory of his loved ones, he had to build a life for himself. He mainly started out as a ship repairer's assistant. Holding out tools and swiped coins of gold when his boss wasn’t looking. He paid him a piece a week and it had made for some painfully hungry nights. So he’d turned to sly swiping where he could, purely to survive.

Every night, he dreamt of that cove. Of its glistening, gentle waves. Of the sea creatures that guarded the hidden heaven. Ones that he would slay with all his might, so that he may bask in the treasures they fought to covert.

An oasis he now attempted to charter.

“What do you think?” He asked his Quartermaster as he headed below deck to his quarters, his mate beside him. They entered the office, heading to the map laid out on the table, weight down by compasses and clutter.

“I think you’re on a fool’s errand, captain.” As he’d been saying for weeks.

“There will be many riches at the end of this voyage, Brigg. I promise you. It will be well worth it.”

“Say we get there, Harry,” Brigg reasoned, his hands on his hips, “what of the beasts they say that roam the waters?”

Sharks with rows and rows of vicious teeth, fearless krakens that ate ships like his for sport. Sirens lured sailors to the depths where they would toy with them before eating them limb by limb. And then there was the landscape to attest for. Jagged rocks and shallow waters that dismembered hulls like a bird's wing through the wind.

Harry himself had no clue how they’d navigate such a tight cove with as many dangers as the lore spoke of. But he was a determined man, and it had yet to steer him and his crew wrong.

He adjusted his weapon belt across his hips, his sword sitting strong in its scabbard. He’d yet to unsheathe it on this journey but had no doubt he’d have to ensure its sharpness for what was ahead.

“We’ll continue to train, Brigg. We have strong soldiers on board with us. We shall find nothing but glory.”

“If we even find the cove.”

Harry shot him an unamused look, “Adjust us to the west. The waves are mighty today, we cannot afford to be off course.”

“Yes, captain.”

Brigg left him, and he allowed a moment to feel exhausted. He threw his hat on the desk, grabbed a bottle of rum, and took a much-needed swig, not caring that it spilled past his lips and down the front of his shirt.

He stripped his frock coat from his body and sagged into his chair, staring at the map, a tiny circle in red showing where they were headed. He adjusted the wooden ship pawn an inch closer to its target.

It wasn’t even on maps long since drawn by cartographers at every corner of the earth. He’d seen it all, seen too much to be riddled by what-ifs and myths. He’d seen wonderous things on his travels, and his hope would not be dwindled by another man’s doubts.

But old stories spoke of a small island, far too small for anyone to see. Tucked away in the Caribbean Sea, warded off by treacherous swells and ravenous creatures. All guarded treasures far too priceless for any man to get their hands on.

For weeks they’d charted choppy waters, their food supply strong, freshwater abundant no thanks to the severe rains.

He felt strongly about this endeavour. Among the hundreds of treasure hunts he’d been on, this was one he felt most strongly about.

He had told no one about this trip aside from his crew. He had become a well-known pirate in England. Notorious and feared. He garnered such a reputation by playing dirty, and he gained many enemies while doing so. The last thing he needed was a rival on his tail.

His life was on the high seas, his lover his compass.

While he wasn’t opposed to bedding some maiden at whatever tavern he stumbled into once they’d ported, they were fleeting moments. He was always on his ship. The Siren. For she always called to him, longing for the dangerous adventure of the ocean.

He nestled into his bunk, knowing that not much would happen overnight. They’d port at Barbados come sunrise, halting their journey only for supplies and to stretch their legs.

He dreamt of the cove, as he always did. But this time was different. It was clearer, a soft ringing in his ears as he was drawn closer to the shore.

The dock at Barbados was rumbling with life. Much more than he’d ever seen it. It was rich with trade, with merchants from every corner of the earth gathering to sell their goods at high prices.

Harry scored some fresh fruits he could not get back in England, chewing happily as he and Brigg wandered the streets. He eyed many of the local women, winking and asking their names, wondering if they had room for him in their beds tonight.

They’d giggle, sensing his reputation as rocky as the shores before them. He had no trouble finding someone to have fun with but loved to scope out his options.

Pineapple juice dripped down his chin, the Caribbean sun blistering and unwavering. Heating him with a fire that drove his need for adventure and discovery. The sun, he thought, was another treasure. The land he came from rarely was blessed with its presence.

They passed more vendors, selling weapons and gear and ammo, maps, and repairs for ships. It had been years since he’d seen this island, it was good to see it doing so well.

An older man stood by his store. A small, quant swordsmith with an abundance of glittering weapons. Harry veered closer, intrigued. Something about his weathered expression drove his curiosity wild. He only saw such an expression in wary seamen.

“Good day, traveller.” The swordsmith’s heavy accent sounded as he sharpened a blade on a block.

“Sir,” Harry nodded. “Are you well?”

The man smiled wryly. “I will be should you give me some coin.”

“You seem well-travelled. Tell me what you know of this island.” Harry produced his map, pointing to the circle drawn in the middle of dangerous waters.

The swordsmith sagged, rubbing his aged forehead. “You will not survive it, boy.”

“So you have been there.” It was real. The sense of relief he felt at that moment was unlike any other sensation. He had been drawn to these tides by a tale. This was the first sense of reality he’d felt.

The man looked away, picking up his tools as if wanting to move on from the conversation. Harry smiled, throwing down a couple of gold coins on the workbench. The man scooped them up, counting, deliberating.

“In all my years, I have never chartered such a sea. Whatever is out there, tis real.”

“What is out there?” He threw down more coins.

“Danger. Fearsome creatures, both terrifying and beautiful. Shows you whatever you desire most and dangles it in front of you until they have you in your grasp.”

“What about the island?”

The man laughed. “Fool. I did not reach the island. I turned up on the shores here with no memory, no ship, no crew. Everything gone. Tis a curse, boy. Nothing more. Beware.”

It did little to sway his curiosity. His draw to this island was nothing to afraid of. Not a curse or a fool’s errand. It was his calling.

“Thank you, sir. Your candour is appreciated.” It would also be ignored, but he chose to withhold that fact. He slid the man more gold, purchasing a small dagger fashioned with pearls in its hilt. They glowed in the sun, and he added it to his scabbard with pride.

His hat shielded him from the torturous sun as he found his way back to The Siren, missing her familiarity. How she was every part of him, just as his bones were. His crew was washing up, sweeping the decks, and righting the gunports.

The main mast groaned as a gust blew through it, the small swells of water lapping at the hull, hungry for more. He checked in with his crew, ensuring everybody was rested and ready for the journey ahead.

“We set sail at midday. Not a minute later.” He eyed them all, pacing ahead of them as they stood in line listening to orders. “We should reach the island by nightfall. The sea ahead is dangerous, but I trust you all to get us there. Whatever we find will be ours to share.”

“Aye, Captain!”

“What if there is no gold?” One of the deckhands questioned. He was one of Harry’s newer men and had less experience on the seas than any of them. Hell. He still got nauseous when sailing, and still got on Harry’s nerves.

“When have I steered us wrong?” Harry glanced at him. “We have followed maps into the most far reaches of the sea, and have been rewarded each time for our bravery. This shall be no different.”

“Aye, Captain.” The deckhand muttered, adjusting his hat on his head.

“Prepare for sail.” Harry shouted, sauntering into his quarters to watch over the map. Brigg ensured everyone was doing their jobs, barking out orders to keep everyone in check.

Harry stared at the map for a time, feeling outside of his own mind. The wind seemed to howl, melting into a high-pitched tone that had him wincing before he blinked, back in his own boots once more.

“Keep her steady!” He yelled from the deck, his feet anchored to the barrier, his hands burning from their grip on the ropes. Sea water lashed at him, threatening to take him down to its luring depths.

The currents were strong here, his crew struggling to keep them on course. The sails whipped in the vicious winds, snapping and threatening to tether.

He had never seen anything like it. Otherworldly anger unleashed within the waves and wind, pummelling his ship with no mercy. His crew was struggling, he could sense it. See that they were unable to ride the movements of the ship, being thrown around every which way.

“Get the sail down!” He yelled out, helping at the masts. They had to coast while the wind was at its strongest. Ride it out until they could figure out their course. As it stood, he hadn’t a clue where they were.

The ocean had never been so angry. Perhaps that old swordsmith had been right. This was a curse. A festering evil. His mind flashed to creatures that could be lurking beneath his ship. A fearsome Kraken waiting to take them down and feast on their flesh while the wood and steel of The Siren rotted at the bottom of the depths.

This was a fight he could not win.

A strong wave swept over the ship, filling the deck with water, and sweeping every man off their feet. He clung onto the rope for dear life, chilled to his bones as the wind whipped at his body.

“We have to go back, Captain!” Brigg yelled over the thunder, a flash of lightning soon following it to ignite his scorned expression.

“We cannot yield!” He fought. They’d worked too hard to turn back now. Turning the ship may seal their fate.

“Cap—”

A swell whirled over the boat, this one higher than any of the ones before, sweeping Harry from his perch overseeing the deck, ready to swallow him into the currents. He clung onto the rope, his grip slipping as his calloused hand failed to comply, frozen and aching.

His hold on the rope slipped, and his stomach dropped as he began falling to the angry depths metres below him. He was being smashed against the hull, knocked back and forth like a rag doll. Held victim to the harsh elements. He yelled out, not ready to abandon his crew. His ship.

He was going to drown.

Flashes in the sky accompanied an eerie ringing, high in pitch and deafening.

And then a hand shot out, taking his as his final grip loosened. He was hauled overboard again, flopping into the saturated deck before he was out cold.

His ears were ringing. A build-up of fatigue and trauma, seared his brain as he blinked in surprise at the scene around him. He could hear Brigg calling his name, and see his crew helping each other up and tending to the wounded. After a quick head count, he knew he’d lost men.

He gathered himself, feeling the oak beneath his back was still wet. But the overpowering anger of the ocean was no more, and he listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

His body thrummed in pain but he ignored it. He would take care of himself later. There was no time to waste when the elements weren’t lashing at them.

His chest burned at the realisation, and he stood with a groan, finding Brigg rushing to his side. It was not uncommon in this life, and it was something he dealt with every time they left the shallow shores.

“How many?” He rasped. “How many did we lose?”

“Five.”

He grimaced, still out of it, his body bruised and weathered.

“You were out for no longer than ten minutes, Captain. The storm has subsided, and quickly so. Never seen anything like it in all my years at sea.”

“The calm will not last, however, we must take advantage of it.” He strolled into the cabin, finding the map, grateful that the ocean had not destroyed it. “How far off course are we?”

“I can’t work it out. The storm derailed us completely.”

“Tis a good thing we overshot after we set sail. Recourse us west.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

“I am. We’re close, I can feel it.”

Harry made the rounds, checking on his crew, and offering condolences even while his own heart felt too heavy for his body to carry. Everyone was exhausted. Tired. But he promised them that the reward was near.

He stood at the helm, the wheel gripped firmly in his ringed hands. The water was black, even the dim candle lighting doing nothing to illuminate it. But there was a tether inside of him, guiding him towards that cove from his dreams. He would slaughter every creature that stood in his way. Fight every rogue wave that threatened to drown him.

The Siren groaned, and he frowned, leaning forward to scope out the environment around them.

The world was dark. An onyx abyss that had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. His gaze scoured his surroundings, seeing nothing but pitch black. Everything went still, eerily still.

Harry loosed a breath, leaving his post at the helm and going to the side. Amongst the nothingness, there was a large mass, not two miles ahead of them. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, or how he was seeing it.

But all he knew was that it was an uninhabited piece of land, surrounded by a thick disturbance, something he could not place. Could not see or smell. But he could feel it.

“Lower the anchor.” He spoke into the air, his crew not hearing him. “Lower the anchor!”

They complied quickly, working together to drop the anchor. The Siren came to a slow stop, and Brigg approached him with a raised brow.

“What is it?”

“There,” he breathed, “do you see it?”

Brigg allowed his gaze to follow Harry’s extended arm, the pointed hand. He looked beyond it, squinting.

“See what, lad?”

“The island.”

“There is no island, Captain. Just water as far as the eye can see.”

Harry shot him a look. “Tis your old eyesight failing you, Brigg. Prepare a boat.”

“It is not safe—”

“Prepare a boat.” He bit out. “This is where we need to be.”

Brigg appeared skeptical, but it was not his place to question his Captain. It was nobody’s place. A few men prepared the pinnace, lowering it down onto the gentle waves. Harry prepared himself with a heavier coat, his favourite sword, and his compass.

His whole life had been a build-up to this moment. From the bedtime stories from his dear mother to finding his feet as his own explorer. It had all been for this. For this off-the-map cove that he wasn’t even sure was real.

“I will scout first, and be back by daylight.”

“Please… be careful.”

“I shall return with good news, Brigg. I can feel it in my bones.”

Using the ladder draped down the hull, Harry lowered down into the boat, Brigg leaning down to pass him a lit lantern. He shot down the offer to have a few of his deckhands with him. This part he had to do alone.

The tiny boat bobbed on the waves, and he glanced out at the mass of land again, sensing that pulsing once more. His ears rang with the promise of fulfillment. He began rowing.

He rowed until he was halfway between The Siren and the island, and his heart began drumming uneasily against his ribcage. He could taste the sheer gratification and accomplishment.

He kept watch for the lurking creatures he had been warned about time and time again. For the dreaded sharks and Krakens, the predators swarming below them, waiting. But they didn’t show.

The ringing appeared in his ears again, shrill and stark. He winced, shooting a hand up to cradle his head.

The peal became higher. Louder. So intense that he feared for the integrity of his hearing. He stood and looked around frantically, hoping to see some source that would explain such a protruding sound.

And then it softened completely, a quiet humming next to the boat that halted his search. He crouched, leaning over the side staring at his reflection on the glass-like veneer.

A disruptive ripple broke the surface of the water, illuminated by the radiant lantern.

A girl.

She was otherworldly beautiful. And she was humming, a lulling melody that had his spine melting into goo. She smiled up at him, looking through her lashes as she bit her lip. Her eyes were so dark as if mimicking the lapping waves, though glowing once he raised the lantern further towards her.

He opened his mouth to ask why she was there. How she was so far out from the shore and in such gloomy water. But his words bubbled in his throat, dissolving before they could reach his lips. As if she’d taken them.

She was just… watching him. Her dark hair slicked back away from her face, glistening with beauty. Her chocolate skin imitated the tone of his rum and his brain went foggy as she rose a few inches, and it was then that he saw that she was naked.

“Who are you?” He managed out, his voice not his own.

She only smiled at him again, humming that addictive tune before her hand shot up, her slender fingers gripping the side of the boat, right next to his jewelled hand.

He was so mesmerised he didn’t have it in him to be scared.

“Are you lost, sailor?” Her voice was silky. Liquid pearls trapped in clouds.

He felt his body fall lax as she stared at him, her lips plump as the words left them.

Lost. A sensation he had felt many times before. And of course, he felt it these past few weeks in the search for this island. Now as he looked away from the girl and towards the island, had disappeared.

He grew startled, his mind kicking back into gear. The island. The hope he felt. The magic cove from his dreams, the one he kept in his locket next to his heart. Gone. A hazy mirage that dissipated when he hadn’t been looking.

His mouth grew dry, “I could have sworn—”

“Shh.” Her cold, wet hand clasped his where it rested on the rim of the boat. “I can help you.”

He was locked in her trance again, paralysed by her. His worry was still stagnant in his brain but his body would not cooperate, still and at her will.

“I do not—”

“Come closer.” Her soft cadence took his breath away.

He found his body betraying him, leaning forward until the boat was almost tipping over. She smiled, her teeth gleaming. Her smile snapped something in him, a longing that was all too familiar to him. The yearning that centred around the painting in his locket. The draw to it was the same as it was to her.

She began humming, louder, completely entrancing him. His brain felt numb, every thought dispersing aside from her. Like his essence was honing in on hers. He was under her spell. His sole purpose for being here suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

And that sense of loss and aimlessness was the last thing he remembered before he was submerged completely.

The sensation of it was too many things at once. A festering fear that soothing hands calmed as he sank down into the murky depths. His passion and drive and reasoning for being on the open seas reduced to nothing. Reduced to droplets blinked from stormy brown eyes.

There had been things for him to fear here. He’d heard the myths. But nothing frightened him more than the beauty of her.

He was sure that he was dreaming, but his lungs were burning, filling with salty water as he tried to scream. But there was no one to save him. Just the sounds of his own muted cries and that all too-familiar melody. It became his new actuality.

Sinking to a euphony that made him feel eerily at peace.

A phantom hand explored the expanse of his chest, feather-light and timid. It touched his arms, his face, trailing his features. Exploring and mapping.

His senses came back to him slowly, and he heard the ocean. Soft swells kissed the shore, and his hand curled into the sand beneath him. He felt that hand venture south and he coughed, his lungs burned as water bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth.

He heard a voice, a small soothing ooh that could only be placed as sympathy. He opened his eyes, wincing as he took in the bright scene before him.

The sun was blinding, offensively so, and he shut his eyes for a moment more so that he could adjust. His head throbbed, the source of a sharp pain in his left temple.

Upon opening them, he turned his head, facing the coast. The water was a bright cerulean, invitingly pristine. No signs of his ship or his crew. What had happened? His vision was hazy, a blur of visions that he couldn’t determine were real or made up. He scarcely remembered leaving the dock at Barbados. Just little blips in time but some seemed fake.

That ghost touch graced his chest again, brushing his wet lips. His gaze turned towards the feeling and a violent gasp left him as he jolted away from the source.

A girl.

What was familiar to him was her striking beauty. Big brown eyes, deep golden skin with a halo of lush curls surrounding her head. She was dressed in white, scraps of flowy material that were bound together with beads and pearls.

Her brows pulled in, and her hand reached out toward him. “It’s okay. You are safe here with me.”

“W—What happened?” He panted, stilling at the feel of his saturated clothes. His scabbard was gone, as was his hat and coat. Only his pants, shirt, and boots remained.

“I found you here.” She said gently.

He tried to stand, disoriented. He fell to the ground, his arms too weak to lift himself up.

“Please, take care—”

“I remember you.” He rasped. “I… I saw you. I—I saw you in the water.”

She reached for him, taking his hand. “You are confused. I believed your ship was wrecked.”

“N—No, I saw you—”

“We must get off the beach.”

“Where am I?”

She didn’t answer him, and her hold on his hand tightened. He suddenly felt willing. Like his body had been given a boost of strength for him to stand. He watched her, allured by her perfection, her attire. Who was she? Why was she so familiar?

His mind flashed to black water before she pulled away, her eyes pulling him in before she backed up toward the island ahead.

It was small, either side of the beach framed with jagged rocks and tall cliffs. The island itself as heavy with thick vegetation. He had no clue where he was geologically. With his memory as spotty as it was, his ship could have wrecked miles off course and left him stranded here.

“Where is my ship?”

There were no remnants of The Siren on the shore. No debris or… any sign of life for that matter. It was a chilling feeling, especially seeing as whoever this girl was wasn’t giving any answers.

She led him towards a large tree just on the edge of the shore, a tall, overhanging tree that offered sanctum from the sunshine.

“What is this island?” He called after her. “Where are all the people?”

“There are no people here.”

He stopped, watching as she sat on a giant leaf and tended to a collection of fish laid out on a rock. They were fresh, and he spied her spear leaning against the tree.

“You are here alone?”

“Sit,” she nodded to a twin leaf next to hers. “And eat. You must be famished.”

He was, but the overall confusion and fear made him nauseous. “No, thank you.”

Her eyes became stormy, just as they had in his mind. He found himself sitting, taking a leaf full of fresh fish from her outstretched hand. He feasted, not realising quite how ravenous he was.

“Can I trouble you for a boat?” He needed to get off this island. Figure out where his ship and crew were.

“There are no boats here.”

Her words made his chest sink, and more questions followed that he opened his mouth to ask, but she interrupted him.

“Where were you headed, sailor?”

Her wording worried him. Where were you heading? Like she saw his being on this island as some kind of seal doom.

“I had just left Barbados.” If she wasn’t going to answer his questions, like hell he was going to answer hers. “I do not remember much following that.”

She adjusted her position, the slit of her skirt allowing his eyes to wander the expanse of her thigh.

“It has been some time since I have seen a man.”

“Is that so?” And that explained the wandering hands he felt as he awoke.

“Many years. You are very different from the ones I have seen.” She brushed her curls from her face, her skin glowing from the sun, crushed pearls glittering her features.

“Do you rescue sailors often?”

“No, never.”

He could not place her accent. Her cadence. Dreamy and soft-spoken. Nothing like the locals of the surrounding islands. No, this he could not put a finger on. She ventured a few metres into the tree line, finding a spring of fresh water which he gulped down.

He had allowed himself to scope out the area whilst she was gone. Aside from the fish and spear, there were no other signs of life on this beach. Was she from deeper inland? Did she come here by boat?

The sunset kissed the horizon, bleeding orange hues into his vision as he tried to gather his bearings.

It was as if she could read his thoughts, sense his panic and his queries.

“You must rest, sailor.” She whispered, that lulling voice swirling through his mind. He fell asleep on the beach, exhausted, perhaps even concussed from the injury on his temple that he did not know how he received.

He woke up hours later, disorientated and lost. He felt for a moment that he was on his ship, tucked away in his cabin next to the fireplace, a goblet of rum nestled comfortably in his hand.

But his new reality set in with the harsh bed of sand against his back and the dim light of the moon offering little comfort. He jolted upright, feeling more himself than he was earlier. Had hours passed? Or days? His body was groggy and his throat was parched.

And then he’d remembered those slender hands feeding him fresh fish, offering him crisp water from the spring in the trees somewhere. The girl. Golden and mysterious.

His eyes strained to see her, but she was not where he had last seen her, and it had his back straight immediately. Had she left him? Had she been a mere dream his jumbled brain had offered up in order to keep him sane?

The throbbing in his head had dulled some, and he reached up to massage the ache only to find it damp with some form of thick paste lobbed into the wound, which felt pretty much healed.

His memory was failing him, letting him down as he raked his thoughts for any sense of clarity but there was none. He wasn’t sure what was real. Couldn’t even remember his name.

He felt his locket around his neck, his sole truth, and fumbled to open it. He withdrew the small painting and even under the moonlight, he knew the strokes by heart. He put it back for safekeeping. His soul soared with a sense of something he couldn’t make out before his eyes flittered to the sea.

It was glittering in the effulgence, seeming to call him as that humming carried itself in the wind. He felt her before he saw her, the soft breeze carrying her presence to him.

She waded in the water, her hands splayed out as she toyed with swells between her fingers. She was just as real as he remembered, and yet, he wondered if she would disperse into the water and become one with it.

He stood, his boots filled with sand, but his clothes were dry now. He watched her, slowly walk towards the edge of the water, his gaze not once leaving her. He walked into the water, keeping his movements light so as not to startle her.

And as he got closer to her, he realised that she was naked. Her hair was wet and draped down her back, her skin a golden ray of moonlight that he wanted to laze in.

She gasped, turning to face him. Her breasts were covered by her wet curls but it didn’t matter to him. He struggled to move his eyes from the view.

“Who are you?” He asked over the rolling waves.

Her eyes were bottomless. “You should be resting.”

“Answer my damn question.”

“You do not need to know who I am, sailor.”

Her eyes became black bottomless pits that had him reeling backward in fear. Every question and ounce of confusion was gone as pure terror took over. She was otherworldly in her beauty, yes. But she had something dark and sinister wading beneath her skin.

He became overwhelmingly lethargic, his body controlled by something alien. And he felt the black hole invade his memory again as she slinked into the water before he saw nothing at all.

Many nights passed. He wasn’t sure how many, and had no sense of self or time. She fished early in the morning and allowed him to eat as much as he wanted before he was resting again. His body seemed too tired and he felt as though he was chasing his own tail trying to feel some sort of energy.

She was always dressed in those soft white linens, or shreds of them, bound together with shells, pearls, and beads.

And every night, he woke, watching her splash and play in the water. Naked and free, unaware of the fact that he was watching her. He didn’t dare approach her again, too fearful that she would control his mind and take it as her own.

She was not of this earth, he realised. Too perfect and too far from his grasp to understand. He enjoyed watching her, though. Enjoyed watching her lay out in the sun and play with her curls.

He bathed in the sea, fully unclothed, and ended up ditching his flimsy shirt once he realised it was only added to the heat his body was enduring. His tattoos were stark against his skin, now golden from his days in the sun.

Sometimes she would leave the beach. She’d venture up the coast, scaling dangerous rock formations. He would always try to follow her but he would lose sight of her, trying to keep up with her agile pace but he was simply not equipped for such a trek.

He always wondered where she went, but by the time she returned, he had grown too tired to ask.

He was caged in, their little beach framed with rock and backed with dense jungle. He tried to venture into the thick vegetation but found himself thrown off by how endless and dangerous it looked.

He was beginning to question if he had any semblance of sanity in the first place. What was true? What was his foggy imagination? He did not know.

The moon was especially large tonight, sat high in the sky, a brilliant silver that glazed over the locket at his chest. His eyes closed, prepared to fall asleep like he did every night.

He often wondered why he felt okay with this. His ship was out there somewhere, maybe even intact. His crew who relied on him… he struggled to even think about it. How had he ended up here? Alone? He had not gone so far from the ship.

His thoughts haunted him, taunting him with hidden memories, slips of water, and storms. But he could only remember that vendor in Barbados and then… waking up on this beach. And her. Her eyes and her beauty. But it was hazy. Like trying to recall a dream.

The moonlight danced behind his eyelids, the waves that kissed the shore somehow calming despite the peril he felt in his chest.

That all too familiar phantom touch laced the bare skin of his chest, and his eyes snapped open. The girl was leaning over him, her eyes burning with curiosity. He sat up abruptly, but she stayed close to him, their faces mere inches apart.

His hand grabbed hers from where it had fallen into her lap. He placed it back on his chest, his eyes on hers as she explored his body, his skin warm beneath her palm. His heart was racing so fast and she smiled as if she could feel it.

Her touch melted south, brushing his lower abdomen. He sucked in a breath and her eyes softened.

“Do you like this?” She asked him, her other hand joining in mapping out his body.

“Yes.” He whispered, wanting to reach out and touch her. But his hands remained put. He knew that the ball was in her court, and she’d reprimand him if he tried to take control.

“Swim with me.”

He was in a trance as she stood, helping him up. She shed her tiny layers of clothing as they walked towards the sea, and his gaze washed over her naked body in a daze. She met his eyes as if knowing he was watching and enjoyed the attention.

After removing all of his own clothing, he tried to ignore the fact that she was staring at all of him. Intently. As if to remember his body later. And then, so quietly, she waded into the water until it was lapping at her waist and stared up at the moon.

He paddled out to meet her, in awe of her confidence as she floated on her back. The moonlight illuminated her body, the water slipping over her physique. He’d never been so envious of a body of water.

He wanted to be the one to lick and explore her coasts. Wrap his currents around her until she was fully in his control. She straightened as he came to her, her hands landing on his shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” He breathed out as she wrapped herself around him.

“Yes,” she crooned, her lips brushing his ear. “You are dreaming, sailor.”

He released a shaky breath when her lips met his, her lips encasing his upper one while his hands found her hips. He released a groan, kissing her with such intensity that it scared him. He had no clue who he was even kissing but it simply felt right.

His body was responding in such a way that made him feel almost embarrassed. She pulled away, her expression confused.

And then his eyes snapped open, a deep breath ripping from his lungs. He wasn’t in the water with her.

But his body was wet as if he had been. His memory was missing a piece between her lips and finding himself back here. A blank space in the puzzle of his mind.

What had happened? Was it a dream? Or did she state that it was so that she could toy with his mind?

The sun was out, igniting the sea in dazzling diamonds that danced on the ripples.

By the crispness in the air and the remnants of fog, he guessed it was early morning. He sat up, searching for her.

She was carrying a woven net full of fresh fish. He frowned. Her spear was at the base of the tree, where it always was. And he realised he hadn’t once seen her use it, and the fish she’d caught never had any wounds to them.

With a sly smile, she nodded her head in greeting, starting to prepare the fish with efficiency and ease. He ate with her, wondering how to bring up their kiss last night. How he’d seemed to startle her with his arousal. He wanted to apologise. He also wanted another taste.

But as always when it came to her, his words were stunted. Lodged in his throat and dying abruptly in a burst bubble. She stood, her hips swaying as she moved before taking a seat beside him.

“When will you tell me who you are?”

“It is the same with all of you men,” she mused, running a hand through his hair. He moaned lightly at the attention, his scalp prickling with delight. “So many questions.”

“Sailors are curious by nature.”

“So I gathered.”

“You, however, are very evasive.”

“You are alone on an island with a pretty girl, what more do you need to know?” Her eyes twinkled at her tease, the sun breaking through the leaves above them and dancing across the planes of her face.

“Very pretty.” He smiled. But I need to know more. A lot more.”

The integrity of his ship and crew plagued him, but she simply smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. His beard was a contrast to his soft features, and her eyes travelled them, taking him in.

“Curiosity is dangerous here.”

“And where, exactly, is here?” He pushed.

But her lips brushed his and his memory faded, his eyes opening only to find the sky dark and the stars abundant in the sky. He blinked, confused. Only a second had passed between then and now and yet… the day was gone. And so was she.

He sat up in a rush, his body feeling alien to him. His eyes scanned the beach, searching for her. And she was there, exiting the water, the sea washing off her shores, down her bare skin, and back to the sand.

But he laid back down, not wanting her to know that he was awake. Whatever she was doing, she was in full control of him and he wanted some semblance of self. To see why she was playing all of these mind tricks on him.

She wandered towards the treeline, a way down from him, and her eyes never found him as he pretended to sleep. Like she was sure he was still sleeping soundly like she always planned.

But he was fully aware of himself now and knew he needed to act. He would find out where he was. If she wasn’t going to give him the answers he sought, then he would find them himself.

He kept his movements quiet, leaving their little respite on the beach and following her. She wasn’t hard to keep track of, following a worn-down path that she knew well. The moonlight lit the way, but he kept to the shadows so as not to raise attention to himself.

She trailed him along for ages. His boots caught on twigs and uneven forest floor but he was determined. And after a while, she slowed, gazing up at the moon before she broke into what looked like a clearing.

He waited for a while, not wanting to get caught before he sauntered forward towards the clearing. Only, it wasn’t was he was expecting. The must have been following the near coast, because he could hear small waves lapping against the rock, and he could smell the intense seawater and feel the pull of it.

It was the cove.

The one from the stories his mother would tell him when he was younger. The one in his locket, right next to his heart.

His chest felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in his body wired with excitement and disbelief.

The cove was every bit beautiful as he’d imagined it. And then some. Bright blue water was ignited by the moonlight. It seemed to hone in on the rock pool that spilled out into the sea. There was no evidence of gold or loot, but the treasure was not that. It was the discovery itself.

Shipwrecks were abundant in the jagged rock formations, the water shallow and glorious. How they hadn’t seen their doom before them, he did not know. Almost like they’d intended to ram right through the island as if it was never there.

The rocks hugged the frame of the cove, the water heaving with wildlife he had never seen before.

And sat upon a rock, was the girl. But he was taken aback, blinking as if he were seeing things through untrue eyes. But she was there, her breasts bare to the ocean while her bottom half was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

A tail.

A milky blue that accentuated the hue of her golden skin, scales so pearlescent it put every diamond to shame. It fanned out at the bottom, much like fish, indented rays that bled into a deeper blue, melting into the tone of the sea.

He began breathing erratically. This was another one of her mind tricks. Or maybe he was going crazy.

Her hands ran through her hair and she began singing that tune again, the melody echoing off the cove and making him stumble.

A rock loosened beneath his boot and her attention snapped up, a short shocked gasp leaving her lips as her eyes met his. She stared for a moment, and for the first time, he saw something in her that he had never seen before. Fear.

“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. “Wait!” He wound down into the cove, as she shifted off the rock, splashing into the water before swimming away. He sprinted into the tide after her, but she was long gone.

He collapsed against the rock that she had previously been perched upon. Her secrecy and her midnight swims. She had been coming here all along, hidden from him. And he had scared her away.

But he wasn’t giving up on her. He would stay put at this cove from his dreams until she returned, if at all. He would never find his own way back to the main beach.

He waited for her for hours. Until his eyes drooped, the moon mimicking as it gave way to the burning sun on the horizon.

It was as it lit the water in dazzling displays of crystallised blue that he awoke, sensing a disturbance on the surface.

He stood, stumbling and wary. He saw her dark hair break the surface of the pool before her dark eyes found his. She didn’t exit the water any further, and he saw the alarm in her gaze towards him.

“I will not hurt you,” he rose his hands, his tone pleading. “You… You surprised me is all.”

She didn’t move an inch. Hoping that in the hours following their run in that, he would have returned to the beach. But he had waited for her.

“I have searched for this island for years. I only wished to see it. No harm will come to you.”

She rose slowly, the water exposing her shoulders. He tried to keep calm, both questioning his sanity and reality itself. She was as fluid as the ocean around her, like two souls entwined.

“Many try to find this island.” She spoke lowly. “All of them mean harm, and do not leave here alive.”

He heard the threat loud and clear, but the softness in her eyes that he’d been seeing for days was no figment of his imagination.

“But you have not killed me.”

“Yet.” She bit out.

“Was it you?” He was shaking, trying to navigate the situation in which it left him alive. “Who called me here?”

“Perhaps you are hearing things only you can hear, sailor.” Her smile was wry and calculated. A feigned innocence she’d do well to mask better.

“Perhaps. Yet here I am. And you have not killed me.”

“Maybe you are already dead. You sealed your fate by coming here.”

The fog behind her wilted away, allowing his eyes to view hundreds of wrecked ships that lined the shallow shores. He wondered if one was his beloved Siren.

“My mother spoke of this place when I was a boy.”

Her mouth curved and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Did she now?”

He frowned, scrambling for the locket clasped around his neck but all he felt was his own damp skin. A phantom sensation of weighted silver whispered against it. His heart dropped to his feet, a wet, bloody puddle that she could sense.

“I… I dreamt of it.”

“You dreamt of me, too.”

He blinked, in a complete daze. His sense of reality was fleeting, melting away with every swell of the sea that kissed his toes.

“That song that you hum. What is it?”

The melody rang out from the waves, and his mind lulled completely.

“Do you like it, sailor?”

“I find it soothing.”

He was trying to soothe her. Let her know that he meant to harm, that his curiosity would not endanger her. No matter how many questions he had and how confused he was. He would only face what was in front of him.

The water around her pulsed as her humming continued, melting in his ears like a gooey potion.

He felt his body being beckoned to the waves, crystal clear and serine. His feet moved before his brain did, carrying him into the current where she waited. He met her there, where her arms wrapped around his neck and she took them further into deeper water.

As if sensing his onslaught of sudden panic, she hushed him, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Trust me.” She whispered. He could feel her… her tail wrap around his legs, fluttering against him. He had been internalising whether what he saw was true or not but now he knew his eyes had not deceived him.

Her breasts pressed flush against him, her hardened nipples brought heat to his cheeks. His arousal was apparent to her and a sly smile crept across her rosy lips in an effort to quell her own feelings.

“Does it not frighten you?”

“What?”

“Me. Like this.” She murmured.

“No. I was… confused at first. But you are beautiful. I have always thought so.”

Never mind the fact that he’d been dreaming of touching her this way for days, the lower half of her was little to deter him. He knew she had a human form of sorts. The fact that she trusted him as her truest self spoke volumes.

She pressed against him further. Until he moaned and his head dropped back on his neck. His expression was one of soft bliss that she wasn’t sure how to decipher.

“I have never touched a man before. Not like this.”

Her words were spoken against the skin of his neck. Wispy and honest. As much truth as he’d ever received from her.

His eyes met hers when she pulled away. Quietly, he asked, “Would you like to?”

“I don’t know how.”

His hands melted down her bare sides, meeting cold scales at her hips. “I can show you.”

“Please.” It was the softest he’d ever seen her. He took one of her delicate hands in his, guiding it down between them. Between his legs, where he was hard and pulsing, and yet, she’d done nothing. But her simple existence was enough to drive him wild.

She gasped as he encouraged her to grip him properly, and she did so gingerly, simply feeling him and exploring him. Far more intensely than she’d done when he was on the beach unconscious.

“That feels nice.” He encouraged.

“This is what you like?” She stared up at him with big brown eyes, and his resolve became a fine glass desperately close to shattering.

“This, and much more.”

“I would like to do that.”

“I would, too.” His hands found her hips again, her smooth stomach, and her gorgeous tits. Gently squeezing and touching.

She was putty in his hands as they wandered and ventured her body. Her scales were sharp and he winced as he sliced his fingertip on one of them.

He lifted his hand from the water, crimson slipping down his hand. He frowned at the wound, his eyes finding hers as her hand grabbed his, bringing his finger to her lips to leave a kiss on it. Her lips were stained red, and the touch of her lips sealed the wound, healing it right before his eyes.

“How many tricks do you possess, siren?”

“More than you will ever know, sailor.”

“Show me your favourite one.”

Her legs appeared, the scales seeming to shed from her skin and slink away into the current around them. He gripped her thighs, lifting her up and encouraging her to wrap them around his waist.

He moaned at the connection before her lips found his, soft and calm as the waves that lapped against the walls of the cove. The familiarity was welcome to him. He’d had her like this before. On the beach nights ago, before his memory became hazy and he awoke on the beach a start.

He guided the kiss, sensing her hesitation and fear. But he held her tight, kissing her softly yet tenderly, allowing her to follow his lead. She did so well, just as lost in him as he was her.

Her lips were soft, plump, and tasted of the sea. He wondered what her shores would taste like, lapping waves and unpredictable currents. An aromatic bliss he longed for.

He ground his clothed cock against her bare core, moaning against her mouth without shame. As if knowing his apparent enjoyment would make her far less apprehensive. He carried her from the waves, laying her flat on the damp sand before leaning over her.

“Your beauty is beyond anything I have ever seen.” He murmured, cupping her cheek and allowing his thumb to brush over her lips. She flicked her tongue out with a small smile before he pushed his digit past them. His brows turned in as she sucked on it.

Her hand reached between them, squeezing his cock with far more confidence than moments ago. He encouraged her higher to pay attention to the sensitive head of his dick, and she was rewarded with a breathless moan that escaped from his soft lips.

“What does it feel like?” She wondered aloud. “To be touched in such a way.”

“It feels… warm. Explosive and tight and blissful.”

Her eyes lulled at the description, and she could no longer ignore the primitive pulse between her legs that she’d never felt before.

“Make me feel it.” She whimpered. The neediness in her tone was all he needed to hear for him to snap.

He crushed his lips against hers, allowing his tongue to meet hers, messy and wet and obscene. The noises they were both making were even more so, and it took all of his willpower to not finish in her hand. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the sand by her head.

“I will be gentle.” He spoke against her temple. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How will it hurt?” She had to ask, wanting him to be as feral and true as he could, whatever it entailed. All she knew was that he felt so fucking good and she wasn’t sure how it could get better or what would even ensue.

“This ends with my cock inside of you, pretty girl. You’ll be tight but I will make sure you’re ready for it. It will not hurt. Not with me.”

She gripped his shoulders in awe, not quite understanding what he meant but her body was flooded with a rush of arousal that he saw darken her eyes. He kissed her again, his hands exploring her chest, toying and squeezing until she was a writhing mess.

He adored her body. Cherished it with lush kisses and his beautiful hands, kissing her tits and her stomach and neck. Alternating where his touch was so no inch of her felt left out. His teeth nipped at her hips and she unintentionally rutted them up towards the touch.

He smiled against her, licking a bold stripe along her abdomen with a hum. His lips went south, and her eyes widened in shock.

“It’s okay, precious. It will feel so good.”

His hands gently coerced her legs to open so he could settle between them. He didn’t dare look anywhere aside from her face as his hands squeezed her delicious thighs, spreading up over her stomach again before veering back down.

And then his eyes settled between her legs and he let out a raspy moan.

“So pretty here, too.” He complimented and a flash of heat warmed her body. “Have you ever played with her?” He asked, his thumb coming to gently sweep over a particularly sensitive spot that made her gasp. “Like this?”

“N—No.”

“No?” He tutted. “That’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how.” She eyed him, crazed for his touch already, her legs shaking.

“I can show you.” He hummed, brushing his thumb over her clit to entice a small whimper from her. “Would you like that? For me to play with her? Make you feel things you’ve never felt before?”

“Please.”

“I like that.” He smiled, using a finger to gather her wetness, going back to her clit to rub small circles. “Say it again.”

“Please…” She whispered. “Please.”

“So polite, pretty girl. Begging me to touch this gorgeous cunt.” He applied more pressure, rewarded with a loud moan from her parted lips. “Oh, you poor thing. You’ve never been touched like this, have you? You’re dripping onto my hand.”

“More,” She gasped out. “please, give me more.”

“I will. Be patient. Need you to be as wet as possible, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She made a high-pitched noise at his words, how gentle and caring and dirty he was. This world he knew so much about, and yet she’d only dipped a toe in.

His fingers worked her slowly, dipping back to her gooey centre to spread her growing wetness to her clit, drawing soft circles as she grew accustomed to having someone touch her this way. She was so wet and creamy that it had his eyes blurry.

“Is that nice?” His voice was dreamy as he watched her shake.

“Very.” She sighed.

“I have barely started.” He smirked at her and she threw her head back as he quickened both his pace and his pressure.

“What more will you do?”

He kissed her thighs, so close to where he wanted to taste. Fuck, she was so sensitive. Her thighs twitched and threatened to clamp around his head were it not for him holding them in place.

“I like that I am the only one who has touched you here. You will only know pleasure to come from me. You have no idea how hard that gets me.”

“Let me feel you again.”

“Not yet, pretty. Be patient, remember?”

“Please—”

He growled, coming up to face her, his forehead pressed against hers as he clenched his teeth. “You touch me, and this will be over before we can get to the best part. Do you understand?”

She fucking melted beneath him, submitting to him, her eyes wide and watering as she stared up at him. She nodded meekly, his hand still at work between her legs.

“That’s a good girl.”

He resumed his former position, nestled between her legs. The sight of her was staggering. If he was homesick before, he wasn’t now.

“Fuck, sweetness. I have to taste you.”

She frowned, snapping her gaze to him. “Taste me? Wh—” She cried out at the feel of his facial hair against her core before his wet tongue came to greet her. She sobbed out in relief at the contact, shaking against him as he gently flicked his tongue on her.

He moaned obscenely loud as he took a full lick of her, gathering her sweet taste on his tongue, and swallowing with a low hum. He sucked firmly on her clit, swirling the tip of his tongue until she was shaking so hard that he had to hold her down.

Her hands reached out, searching for something to hold onto, feeling out of her depth and overwhelmed while he ate her. He grabbed both of her hands with one of his, placing them in his hair.

She gripped his long curls, anchoring herself to him.

He pulled away momentarily to rasp out, “Pull my hair.” Before resuming. She listened, fisting and pulling at his locks as she got fucking ruined.

A warmth built up in her stomach and she felt her body tingle. He pulled back, wiping his face on his anchor tattoo before his eyes met hers.

“I’m going to use my hands now, pretty. Stretch you a little, make sure you can take me.”

She only nodded, unable to breathe, and not sure what he meant. But with how good he was making her feel, she was happy to ride the wave of him.

He circled her clit again, always paying attention to it, while his other fingers ran up her centre, watching her drip for him. He slowly, so so slowly, circled her entrance with a lone finger, pushing in.

She gasped, her spine straightening.

“Shh, pretty girl. Relax for me.”

She tried but felt so tightly wound from his touch that as he gave her his finger, she could have exploded. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was some form of a foreign sensation there.

“Is that okay?” He checked in. She nodded and hummed, jaw dropping when he withdrew his finger just to pump it in again. “And this? Is this okay?”

He watched her expression, a cocky and all too knowing grin gracing his face. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Feels nice in your tight little cunt.”

His mouth was filthy, only adding to her heaping arousal. She was so over her own head and any and every thought revolved around him and what he was doing to her body.

He returned his mouth to her clit, sucking, flicking, biting. Obsessed with how she felt and tasted. Her reactions were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Pure bliss gracing angelic features, moans, and hums sounding from her throat, sounding much like that tune that was often carried in the wind when she was near.

Adding another finger once she was saturated, he fucked her with them. Slow yet deep, scissoring them to get her used to the stretch. He knew she’d struggle to take him, but the way she was writhing for him made him think she’d be delirious once she’d gotten used to his cock.

“That’s it,” he spoke against her. “My pretty girl is so wet. Do you like my fingers? Hm?” She nodded, feeling insane. “You do, yeah.” He drawled. “Wait until you get my cock, pretty girl. You’ll be fucking dripping.”

She moaned loudly, so loud that it echoed off of the cliffs encasing them. He took her harder, biting her clit harshly. She felt as if she were about to unravel, a completely unnerving sensation as she melted into his touch more and more.

He worked her harder and faster, the muscles in his arms flexed as if sculpted and molded from marble. The sight alone had her struggling to take a breath in. She watched him command her body in a way that she didn’t know was possible, his mouth paying full attention to her clit whilst his fingers destroyed her from the inside out.

Her body thrummed as if coming to life. Burning hot, with searing blood in the currents of her veins. She tightened up, tensing, her body on the verge of something she didn’t know how to gauge.

“What’s happening—”

“Shh, pretty girl, it’s okay. This is what your body wants, let it happen.”

She cried out sharply, her voice a chorus of golden bells that made his ears ring with desire. She exploded around his fingers, into his mouth, all over his chest. He moaned along with her, equally as turned on.

He came over to her, kissing up her body on the way. “How did that feel?”

“Incredible,” she gasped, “I’ve never… felt that before.”

No words had ever been sweeter to him. He kissed her, allowing her to taste her orgasm on his lips and tongue. She hummed, allowing her leg to hitch up onto his hip, drawing him closer.

He rutted his cock against her, her wetness seeping through the thin material of his drawers.

“Can I touch you now?”

He sighed against her mouth. “Yes, pretty girl.”

She mewled, reaching down to cup him. He moaned, kneeling to remove his drawers. She couldn’t hide her reaction to the sheer beauty of him. She’d never seen a man like this before and didn’t even know such a sight was possible. His body was toned, tight, with broad shoulders and a nipped-in waist.

His tattoos were forms of art, decorating his beautiful body. From the ferns on his hips to that fucking tailed woman on his arm. He was truly faced with his fate.

She traced a shaking hand along his defined stomach, his abs trembling beneath her touch. He allowed her to touch him, enjoying the feel of her delicate hands on him.

“That’s it, sweetness. Take your time.” His voice was so deep she felt it in her clit. She hummed out a soft noise.

“How do you like to be touched, sailor?”

He dropped his head back on his neck with a moan before focusing back on her, her eyes alive with intrigue and a little bit of fear.

“Like this,” He guided her hand to his bare cock, and she gasped at how hard and scorching hot he was.

“It’s… you’re so big.”

“You can handle it, sweetness.”

He pulsed in her palm as he showed her how to touch him, moving her hand back and forth. He allowed a string of saliva to fall downwards onto his length.

The added moisture made him whine, thrusting his hips into her hand.

“What else?”

“Here.” He grabbed her spare hand, taking it to his balls, and showing her how to touch them. He whimpered as she massaged them, gauging his reaction as to how hard to do so.

He cursed loudly as she sped up her hand, bowing over her to kiss her deeply, messy and needy. His tongue met hers in a frenzy.

“Use your mouth, sweetness. Need to feel you gag around me.”

“H—How?”

She had heard of no such thing, but how he had used his mouth on her, she knew it had been nothing short of magical.

He helped her stand, taking her over to the flattened rock where she had been resting before. “On your back.” He ordered, his voice low and rumbling with demand.

She did as she was told, happy to let him guide her. She was soon on her back, the rock smooth and familiar to her. One she’d spent hours on, basking in the sun, memorising tunes, and counting the pretty shells she’d scored from blue depths.

He groaned at the sight; her hair fanned out around her, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm, and her legs pressed together to curb her arousal for him. He walked around until he was looking down at her face.

Taking a solid step forward, he cupped her throat, the mermaid flexing against his skin. Muscles rippling beneath its inked scales.

And then the siren before him, mystical and eerie. Dangerous and yet… she was here on her back for him, waiting for his next command.

“Grab it.” He ordered, stepping closer. Her hand wrapped around his cock, expertly massaging and touching. His jaw dropped as she smiled, obsessed with how he felt.

“Does every man look like this?”

“No one is this lucky.” He smirked. She giggled at his jest, his confidence unmatched. “Open your mouth, siren. Let me see where I’m going to fuck you.”

She made a small sound, almost like a helpless animal, and dropped her jaw.

“Obedient little thing. Stick out your tongue.” She obeyed. “Yeah, that’s it. There we go.”

He moved forward until his cock, still held in her hand, was in her face. She eyed it, intimidated and lost.

“Lick it.” He said softly.

“Where?”

He guided his tip towards her, “Right there.”

She gave him a single, small lick. Timid and shy. But the fucking noise he made had her legs trembling with desire.

“Take your time.” He spoke gently as her mouth explored him, getting used to his sheer size, memorising each vein. Licking his entirety with pleased little hums.

“Wrap your lips around it—fuck, just like that.”

She took his head past her lips and his whole body trembled. He pushed her hair from her face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view.

He encouraged her hand to play with what she couldn’t yet fit in her mouth.

He cupped her cheek, holding her still. “I’m going make you take it, okay? Tap my leg if you need a breath.”

She nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Okay. Yes.”

He held onto the sides of her neck, slowly working his cock deep into her mouth, further and further until he could feel her throat constrict around him. She gagged at the assault and he pulled back.

“Is that—”

“Don’t stop.” She rasped and he groaned at how eager she was.

He fucked her throat, slow and steady even though his whole body was trembling. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?”

She whined around his length, her eyes watering, streams falling down her temples. But she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him to feel the pleasure that he made her feel. She was ravenous for it, to hear his blissed-out noises and see what happened when he met his end. Would it be like hers? Stronger? Wetter?

“Fuck,” He whined as she let him take full control and use her throat. To think she had never experienced anything remotely close to this, and here she was, being so good for him and so open and willing. Maybe he really was dreaming.

Her hands reached out, one bracing on his muscled thigh, right over the inked tiger. The other went to his balls, heavy and warm in her palm as she played with them just as he showed her.

“That’s so good, little girl.”

She gagged at the praise, stumbling before her jaw clamped, her teeth nipping around his shaft. He hissed, pulling back.

She gasped, “I’m sorry. I hurt you, I—”

“No, pretty girl. Don’t be sorry.” He cupped her cheek, kissing her swollen lips, licking away salty tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be gentle with me. Do it again.”

“But—”

He gripped her neck. Not tight, but enough to show her who was in charge. The sun burnt through the fog, igniting their display in honey gold and diluted berry. He kissed her. Too far gone.

“Bite me. Hit me. Do whatever you want to me.”

Her eyes darkened, the calmness leaving her face. There was nothing but pure danger there now. As turned on as he was, he felt fearful at the expression. She pushed him back, too hard, and he stumbled onto his back, flopping onto the sand. Helpless before she straddled him, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

She bit his lip, soft at first, but then he let out a sharp yelp when she bit down with force enough to make him bleed. He growled, feeling the warm rush of it seep down his chin. She lapped it up, mewling and grinding her wet cunt against his stomach.

“You are fucking insane.” He gaped, his shock melting into laughter when she smiled manically at him, blood dripping from her mouth.

She allowed his blood to trickle back into his face as she leaned over him.

“What was it you said, sailor? Do whatever I want to you?”

“Anything you want.” He affirmed as soft waves lapped at the back of his head.

The curve of her lips tilted up, her hand coming up to lovingly cup his cheek. So gentle and tender. His heart careened in his chest before her hand abruptly flew up to his forehead, pushing it down until his head was submerged in the salty waves.

He gasped on instinct, the water invading his lungs with a sharp burn. His hands clawed at her wrist but the currents were her home. She held the power here.

Anything you want.

She allowed him to breathe, gasping and blubbering. He glared at her, his chest heaving.

“You little—”

She tilted her head, that fucking tune melting in his ears. Her other hand reached back, gripping his cock in a tight fist. He moaned loudly, whatever insult was lost in the ocean at his back.

“You like that, don’t you?” She threw his words back at him and he whimpered, nodding. His lip stung, the salt water invading the hurt.

“Yes.”

“Mmm.” She hummed before pushing his head back under the waves. Her hand fucked his throbbing dick with such a might he feared he was going to finish all over himself. His chest burned with the lack of air, but he welcomed the panic, and allowed it to fuel how fucking good she felt.

She let him catch his breath, feeling kind as she quickened the pace of her hand, paying extra attention to just the tip of him with the pad of her thumb.

“Fucking filthy g—”

And he was under again, his head submerged while he writhed underneath her. He could feel how insanely wet she was, near on dripping onto his skin, and his hips ground up into her hand, unashamed.

She moved to his side, letting him breathe before her mouth was on his dick again, licking and biting and sucking. Not letting his balls feel left out, even biting harshly into his hips until he was bleeding there, too.

He was dunked under the water for longer and longer each time, the fear making his body shake, self-preservation kicking in while his orgasm loomed right behind it.

She pulled away from his length, moving to straddle his chest, her hands encasing his neck.

“You liked that? The burning in your chest?”

God, if she drowned him he’d probably come at the same time. He groaned at the prospect.

“Let me taste her again.” He gripped her hips, trying to move her up. “Take a seat.” He gestured to his face. “Right here.”

She could feel her body thrum with need all over again, dripping down her thighs at the pleasure she’d been able to give him. She moved up, getting comfortable as she sat on his face. She whimpered at the feel of his facial hair, his beard thick against her.

His tongue flicked out, teasing and slow before she fully collapsed down onto him, giving him no choice but to completely devour her. The water encased him again, and he tasted her and the waves together.

She let him breathe every now and again, but he didn’t stop eating her. He’d been starving for a taste this euphoric all of his life and he was getting fucking drunk off of it.

Her second orgasm was far more intense than the first. Maybe it was because she knew not to be afraid of it. Maybe it was because the man giving it to her was fighting to breathe while he took care of her.

It was a burst of white light that brought shame to the sunrise around them. She cried and sobbed and whined, shaking, falling forward at the intensity of her pleasure. It was so wet. A stream of liquid erupted from her core, drenching him. He drank it, his beard  saturated in her orgasm.

It flipped something inside of him. Some feral, animalistic need. He grabbed her, placing her on her back, the shore lapping at her body before his tongue went to join it.

He kissed her, tasting himself, her, the sea, and his blood between them.

“I want it inside,” she whispered as she gripped his aching cock. “Just like you said.”

“Let me calm down, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, kissing her again, messily whilst his hips rutted up into her hand.

“I want it to hurt.” Her eyes were full of desire.

His head fell into her neck, “Shh.”

“Please… please, I need to feel it.”

“Stop talking. You have to s—stop talking.”

“I need it inside—”

“Shut up.” He growled, taking her hand away from him and pinning it next to her head. “Shut up, pretty girl, please.”

His hand ventured south between her folds, feeling how wet she was before he gave her two fingers, hooking them up against a spot that had her spine turning into jelly.

“You have to be ready.”

“Please, I’m wet. I’m wet. Just give it to me. Stretch me. I don’t care if it hurts.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved his fingers faster. “One more time. One more time and I’ll give you my cock.” He clenched his teeth as he worked harder. “I’m so big, sweetness, drench me again so I’ll fit.”

She cried out, gripping his wrists with both of her hands. She thrashed beneath him as he fucking annihilated her.

“Good girl.” He praised her as she exploded around his fingers. “Do as you’re told, there we go.”

She sobbed, struggling to take in oxygen as she writhed in pleasure. He muttered soft praise and words of encouragement, telling her how pretty she was, how ethereal, how good she felt milking his fingers.

“I can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock, pretty. Want you to cream all over me until I say you’ve had enough.”

“Please give it to me now.” She begged, near tears.

“Yeah, beg for my cock, precious girl.”

“I didn’t know I could feel like this. I need it, please. Please let me have it.”

“Oh, look at you. Cock drunk before you’ve even taken it.”

“Please.”

“Are you wet enough?” He mused, his fingers still exploring, knowing very well how much she was dripping. “Do you think you can take this big cock? Hm?”

“I promise.”

“You promise? You’re such a sweet girl for me.” He kissed her, lifting her legs up to hug around his waist. “I’ll go slow, okay? You don’t have to do a single thing. Just lay back and take it.”

“Okay, sailor.”

He groaned at the nickname, reaching between them to hold his cock, running it against her centre to gather her dripping wetness, moaning at the feel of it. He watched her face as he gently pressed in, swallowing her gasp as she gripped his shoulders.

Yes, she was obscenely wet, but the sting was still there. Sharp yet thrilling. And he had barely done a thing. He pushed in further, angling one of her legs up higher so she was able to take it easier. He was about halfway in now, his head foggy at how tight she was.

She hissed. “Oww.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, I know it hurts. You’re doing so well. Good girl. You’re so tight, so fucking wet.”

He didn’t move his hips, didn’t give her any more of his length until she was ready. Mewling and whining for more.

“You’re too big.” Fuck the way she was looking at him was driving him crazy. Awe and fear at the same time.

“You can handle it, precious. You promised.”

“I promised.” She nodded, her face out of it, brows turned up and her jaw dropped.

“That’s right. I’m going to feed you my cock until you can take it all. I know it’s big but you can do it.”

She whined, wiggling beneath him in discomfort as he gave her a little more. He was finally able to press fully inside of her, moaning as her walls rippled around him.

“How does it feel?” He asked her, his chest heaving.

“Full. Complete. It’s starting to hurt less.”

“Fuck, that’s… good. That’s so good.”

“Can you please move? Just a little bit?”

“Y—Yeah, I can move.”

He retracted all the way until only his tip was nestled inside of her before slowly rolling his hips forward. They moaned in unison, and her nails clawed at his skin.

“Faster.”

“Faster? You like when it hurts?”

She clenched her teeth together as he pumped into her. “Yes. Oh, right there.”

“What a good girl. Taking my dick even though it hurts. Are you going to cry?”

“More, please.” She begged, enjoying the dulling pain. The bite of it lessened, his eyes as deep as her ocean she frequented. They sparkled, alight in the sun as it beamed on them.

Tears of pleasure and pain fell from her brown eyes as he took her harder, screwing into her with sheer power, though his pace was still controlled.

“Fuck. This pussy isn’t used to being used like this, hm? Clenching around me like you won’t let me go. I’ll stay inside you for as long as you want, pretty girl. This is my cunt now.”

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back, the waves lapping at her hair. The way in which he spoke was driving her wild. His body was ensuring insane euphoria, and his words only added to it. Clearly well-versed in how to please a woman and it made her seethe at the idea of him with anyone else.

“Stop squeezing me like that, you’ll make me come.”

“I can’t help it.” She whimpered.

His expression softened. “Aw, does my cock just feel too good? Are you going to get wet on it? Yeah? Want to feel you explode on me. Give it to me.”

“I can’t yet.” She was too overwhelmed, still trying to get accustomed to the feel of him.

“Oh, you can’t? Is that what you think?” He stared down at her, his hips snapping fiercely against her. “Think again.” And his hand reached down, rubbing sweet circles on her clit. She cried out, her nails ripping into his skin so deep that she drew a worrying amount of blood.

“That’s what I want. Make me bleed while you cream all over me. Fucking crazy little girl.”

She stared up at him, her eyes swarming with terror. He was taking her mind and body to places she didn’t understand. Using words she didn’t know how to grasp. But she felt like she was on fire. His cock was so deep and so big while his hand played that sensitive area just above where they were connected.

“You’re about to… God, I can feel it.” He spat out, his eyes squinting. “So fucking tight around me.” She was so wet, too. The sounds that came from between them were making his ears ring.

“Please don’t stop.” She begged. “I want it again, so so bad.”

“You want me to make it hurt again?”

“Please!”

“Nasty fucking—” He grunted, his arm straightening as he leaned over her, fucking her harder until she was crying out in pain. But she liked it. Liked the sharpness of it. How he was massaging a special spot inside of her that was making her feel lightheaded.

His hand stayed playing with her clit, and he spat down onto his fingers to get her even wetter. The dirty sight had her screaming, exploding messily around his cock that he had to fight to stay embedded inside of her.

“That’s my girl. Precious little thing. You’re addicted to this, aren’t you? Can’t stop fucking coming.”

She nodded, feeling crazed out of her mind. He pulled away from her, flipping her onto the rock, bending her over the smooth obsidian. He spread her legs, tucking his throbbing cock back into her snug walls.

“Mmm. So fucking wet, gushing on my dick like a whore. You were made to take me.”

She clawed at the rock, begging for mercy. His hips hit her ass at every powerful thrust, his hands digging into her sides so hard she knew that it would bruise. The idea of having any sort of physical reminder from this interaction had her shaking.

“Harder, sailor.”

His hand grabbed her hair in a fist, pulling her up until her back was pressed to his chest.

“Captain.” He spat out. “You’ll refer to me as captain.”

“Yes, captain.” She rasped.

“Good girl.” He praised, biting into her shoulder. “Say it again.”

“Take me harder, captain. Make me cry.”

He moaned, fucking her hard and fast, her ass reddening from the force of his drive. The pain was almost overwhelming, her body wanting to satiate the pain but wanting to take him even more.

He could feel her body becoming lax as his cock massaged that spot inside of her, the hurt of his size waning as she completely melted around him. A wet, hot furnace welded together just for him.

Her skin almost glowed gold, and it was then that he realised that she had been the treasure all along.

He moaned softly, his body coming to cocoon hers against the rock. His pace slowed down, deliberate and delicate. She gasped at the roll of his cock inside her, how much more intimate it felt now that he was holding her.

“Pretty girl,” His lips found a sweet spot right below her ear. “So glad I found you.”

She stifled a whimper as he took her, whispering little sentiments in her ear that made her legs tremble. How he’d spent all of his life searching for something, riding vicious tides and sailing dangerous winds. He’d found gold, priceless treasures, and uncharted waters.

But nothing could have prepared him for how fulfilled he felt at this moment. Wrapped up in a beautiful body that no one had the privilege to map out and explore.

Wanting to see her face, to see those deep eyes and plump lips, he placed her on her back. His touch was so gentle that it didn’t feel real. Like he was a phantom of dreams he’d yet to have.

He stepped forward between her spread legs, always his good girl. Her hand wrapped around his cock, which was saturated in her orgasms, and guided him back to her wet haven. He moaned loudly as her walls squeezed around him, delighted to have him within her body once more.

She whined loudly, “Don’t ever stop.”

“I won’t, precious girl.”

She was near tears as he began to slowly fuck into her, his chest pressed tightly against hers.

“Do you promise?”

“Until my last breath.”

She threw her head back, and he took the opportunity to suck and nibble and kiss the skin, a soft sheen of sweat on his tastebuds as his cock throbbed inside of her.

God, she felt insane. Like her body had been immersed in a potion specifically aimed to make him crazy. He stopped fucking her, taking her in with his lust-speckled eyes. Her hips began moving at their own accord, screwing into him mindlessly, searching for release again.

He growled, holding his hands behind his head. His muscles flexed at the action, inked skin rippling.

“Is this what you wanted when you found me washed up on the beach? To fuck yourself on my big cock?”

“I don’t know, captain.” She cried. “I saw you and just knew I had to save you.”

“Thank you, pretty girl. Thank you for saving me.” He leaned down, fingers splayed across her jaw as he kissed her messily.

She made a restless noise. “Take me again.”

“How do you want it?” He asked against her lips.

“Fast.”

“Anything else?”

“I like when you touch me.”

“You like it when I touch your pretty little clit?”

“Please touch it.”

“I will, I’ll never leave her out. I’ll rub your clit while my cock destroys you until you’re gushing all over me.”

“Will you… feel like I do, too? Can you?” Her cheeks heated at the question, hating that she knew absolutely nothing about any of this.

“Yes, I’ll come. I’m going to come so deep inside of my girl. That’s what she wants, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She whined.

“You’ve turned cock dumb, haven’t you? Just aching to taste my cum off my cock after I’ve destroyed you with it.”

“Fuck, please! Just fuck me, make yourself come. Please.”

“Do you want me to use you? Hm? Nothing but a little fuck hole for me? Is that right?”

“Yeah.” She gasped, sobbing.

“You give me one more. One more and I’ll fill you up with my cum.”

“I can’t!”

“Does it hurt?”

It was starting to hurt again, from the intrusion of his heavy thrusts and how often he’d played with her.

“Yes, captain.”

“And if I rub this poor little clit better?” He reached between them, his thumb pressed to her clit to rub firm circles. “How’s that?

“So good.” The words were barely registrable beneath her moans.

“So good,” He breathed out. “My good girl.”

“Yours.”

The sentiment ripped through him like a fierce wind that almost knocked him off of his feet. Yours.

He took her as hard as he possibly could, his chest burning at the exertion. He spat on her clit, though she hardly needed the extra moisture. He flicked, pinched, and rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves until she was a crying, shaking mess that exploded forcefully around his cock.

“Fuck, I love that. Messy girl, soaking me like that. So fucking pretty.”

She clawed at his chest, not caring when he hissed and winced at the sharp pain. She knew he liked it. Her cunt trembled relentlessly around him, drawing his own orgasm closer and closer.

“I want it.” She whined as he hugged himself to her, arms wrapped around her to keep her where he wanted.

“You want my cum?” He moaned in her ear, her body his own heaven. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up with it. Are you gonna take it? Yeah?”

“I’ll take it!”

“All of it? Do you promise?”

“I—I promise, captain.”

“Gonna make you keep it inside of you.”

“Oh, fuck—“

He didn’t know much of how her body worked but hoped that leaving part of his own would become something more. Any sense of permanency on this fucking island was welcomed, especially if it was with her.

“Will you let me stay here? With you?”

“I’d never let you leave anyway, sailor.”

Days ago such words would have him cowering in fear. But hearing them now… it did unspeakable things to him. Spurred his orgasm from a soft tingle to a crackling fire.

“I’ll stay.” He whimpered against her lips. “Fuck you right here until I’m drowning in you. Make you take my cum and keep it inside of you until I’m hard again.” He grunted, fucking her so hard that his teeth were vibrating. “You like that? You want to keep my spent dick inside of you until I’m ready to fuck you again?”

She cried out at the sheer power behind his driving thrusts, his cock achingly hard inside of her, pulsing and throbbing as he neared his end.

“Give it to me, captain. Please let me have your cum.”

Her voice was soft, wispy dreams sent gliding over foggy waters.

He burst inside of her with a loud moan, one that careened in soft echoes around the cove. She gasped at the feel of his cum coating her used walls, her cunt rippling at the sensation. He was beautiful as it was, let alone when he was coming.

His expression was one of undiluted bliss, though he almost looked as if he were in pain. His soft lips parted to allow her the view of his two front teeth, his brow furrowed, sweat dripping from his temples in gentle beads.

She cupped his cheek, her heart breaking at what he wished he had been promised.

His eyes found hers as he came down, staying deep inside of her, his hands flexing against her sides.

Her skin felt cold, he noticed. Far more icy than what he’d felt before. Abnormally so.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, his voice not sounding like his own. His chest burned as if the air had been ripped from them, abruptly and harshly. He coughed, unable to find a source of oxygen even though he was here… on the beach.

He blinked, the sun disappearing. It was all grey, a deep haze as his eyes struggled to adjust. The waves lapped at his body as the tied came in, swarming at his skin like it was magnetised to him.

“Yes, sailor. You are.” Her voice. Cold and evil. The tune pierced through her words. He opened his eyes and the sting in them was immense. He screamed in pain, only for water to invade his mouth and nose, filling his lungs.

The cove was stripped away, in its place a deeply submerged trench. One that he had been somehow forged into.

And her. His siren. Her eyes dark pits, her scales shimmering with divine wickedness. Her tail swirling through currents she knew how to hold. He was drowning. He had drowned. He could not tell what was real, only that his body was no longer part of him.

Her hand reached out to him, touching his forehead as she had on the beach.

And he saw flashes. Flashes of the cove shrouded in gold. Flashes of her body and his body. Their joining. Flashes of death and suffering. Flashes of his ship and an angry storm that took it.

He had not left his ship.

He had gone down with it.

***

taglist :

@keepdrivingkisses @lolyouallsuck @victoria-styles @harrysonlylover

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles filth #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #hslot #smut #hes #anon #pirate #piratesmut

[rzyraffek]

Can you do a clan leader yautja x child reader

i really hope u mean like cute platonic stuff with yautja taking care of child!!! Otherwise this request is very sus. I dont want to use word "child/kid" in every sentence so the kid will have pronouns they/them

Human kid with Clan Leader Yautja

He would be overprotective! especially towards human kids, like they are much smaller and little stupid weaker than yautja ones

Will hiss at anyone that scares her >:)

His instinct will tell him to train them and go on huntings with them BUT LIKE HE DOESNT KNOW when should he start?? Like how old human pup must be to be ready for first hunt???

I guess since hunting is a huge thing in Yautja culture, first hunt with their kids is like essential for them.

Probably will take them around teenage years, not too late but not to young too

Also growing up around yautjas kid will automaticly be more athletic and skilled than average earth teen

But back to kid being kid. HE WILL MELT if they hold his hand or fidget with his armor! of course its dangerous and sharp! but its so cute! Yautjas are very curious beings too, but they wouldnt randomly come to LEADER of a Clan and start just start fidgeting with his armor/locks

Also he sometimes forgot that human kids take more time to learn basic stuff, how to walk for example. so he will just start walking his normal pace, turn around becasue they didnt hear kid's steps and just see them laying on the floor cuz they fell :(

He would spy on normal human families to see how kids behave and how perents treat them! Yknow Yautjas arent like humans they dont really care about their kids after they learn how to hunt

IF kid will call him space dad OR just dad he will accually have lil heart atack! Please thats so cute!!

Play-fighting all the way, thats how pups learn their strengths in fun ways! also mayyybee he acidently yeeted them too hard and they flew away like 2meters (mayyybeee but totaly on acident!!)(nothing serious happend exept flying child)

Noone can litteraly hurt them(exept their own perent apeareantly) cuz if somone does, death for them :) or at least a lot of hissing and punching

Theres no way in hell that he will braid their hair, he is too tired to learn how to do that! And human hair constantly grows!!why!! pls its everywhere!!! So he would probably cut them short, it grows back anyways so whats the deal?? But if kid really reallllyy loves their hair i guess they can stay in certain lenght BUT they take care of it alone he doenst want to deal wtih it (mental break down due to one event when he tried to do pretty braids and it got tangled and he didnt know what to do)

But even if he really loves them, and treats them as his own, he still wants them to hunt or at least help the clan in someways, he doenst want his kid to grow up to be useless. He will try to find something that would fit them (for example if kid is intrested in crafting they may become a blacksmith in future (ihave no clue if yaujtas have blacksmiths i just took random profession alr))

Overall 9/10 amazing dad material, although he sometimes doenst undestand human body and how it really works

ALL x reader tags are there only so more people can reach it!!!

#yautja x reader #yautja #alien vs predator #yautja headcanon #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader

[cinnbar-bun]

i loveeeeeeeeee your robin writing!! would love to see you do more nico robin x gn! reader

A/n: you didn't specify anything so I made some general hcs!

Rating: SFW

Notes: GN!Reader, Fluff

General Nico Robin Relationship HCs

Likes to learn about different hair styles and types in order to best fix your hair or care for it. She’s been reading up on the best way to treat your specific hair type, don’t worry. Her many hands makes it a breeze. 

Occasionally, some jokes/phrases fly over her head and she will take it at face value, not understanding what you mean. If you explain them to her, though, she’ll have an amused smile and chuckle. 

You’re one of the few people she’ll trust with her in a bath. This is especially big for her since her Devil Fruit powers no longer work in the water, but she know she can fully trust you. 

Enjoys dates where she can dress up in full glam and be by your side. Things like a night at an opera or a fancy restaurant are her type of thing (when/if she feels like going out).

Little tidbit: after eating at the restaurant/seeing the opera, if you two walk around the city at night, she’ll have this far out, dreamy look on her face. It’s beautiful, her shoulders are so relaxed and her eyes are wandering everywhere as if its the first time seeing the world. 

If you detour to say, a small art exhibit or even a flower field, watch as her smile reaches her eyes as the stars pale in comparison to her beauty and radiance. 

She has imagined getting a cat with you. Of course, not now, and especially not if you are allergic/afraid of them. But if you’re cool with it, she’s absolutely looking up the best kind of cat for you two to get and how to care for it. 

Robin has a habit of asking very personal and very philosophical questions at random times. If there’s a long period of silence, she might just drop “what do you think is there for us after death?” 

If you ask sillier questions like, “would you love me if I were a worm?” she would say, “why would you be a worm?” 

“Of course, I would still love you. I’d make sure no birds or other predators dived at you and ate you up. Maybe I’d get you a nice terrarium. But still, why would you be a worm?” 

Is always interested in your home traditions. This is especially important to her as she’s never really had a “home” ever since the Ohara incident, so enjoying you/your family’s traditions makes her feel welcome and like she belongs to a family. 

Very self-indulgent but could you imagine maybe taking her to your hometown and introducing her to your family and then she begins trying to learn everything about it? Enjoying the celebrations, trying the meals, listening to the elders… she is ecstatic. 

If you don’t have any family/cultural traditions (for whatever reason, no judgment here), Robin will elect to have you two make your own traditions. Sure, you two may not have the usual “family” or home most people may have, but it’s something the two of you made, and it’s special to her. She finds it irreplaceable. 

Happy to do cheesy couple things if you suggest them. It’s very unlikely she’ll suggest them, but when you do, she’ll have a smile on her face and agree to it. 

Often tries to flirt with you in other languages. She makes it sound so beautiful so even if you have no clue what she’s saying, you’ll melt. 

She’ll probably also say something silly but make it sound romantic even though she’s saying like “I ate a wasp and then cooked a hundred hot dogs”. You don’t need to know the truth. 

Probably considers making a secret language just for the two of you to communicate. She says it’s for fun to keep things private or joke without the others knowing, but it’s also for another reason. If, for some reason, you or her are ever separated and have a chance to communicate, the language could come in handy and have you send messages without them being intercepted or interpreted by others. 

Likes when you two share blankets when doing things like reading, or even simply when you two are sitting. Watching the stars or listening to the others talk is more romantic when she’s with you in a blanket.

#one piece x reader #one piece #x reader #one piece hcs #reader insert #nico robin #nico robin x reader #robin x reader

[cqaeluvs]

Hello can I ask for head canons for Trey/Sebek/Kalim confessing to male!reader after finding out that someone else had confessed to him? Thank you for your time!

A single book with an open page on a table had caught your attention, what story would you go on?.

Ahh! omgg anon this is such a cute resquest!, ill try my best to write them as good as i can (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ).

Now it was asked for a male reader, but it stayed neutral, i hope its fine anon! my partner also helped because i got stuck on kalim

(Reader can be interpreted as yuu or not.)

-- Now Trey was walking through the school, looking for you as he just had finish a small bag of freshly baked treats for you.

-- He couldn't help but overheard the certain confession his crush was getting he was very shocked but decided to leave, silently begging that you didn't accept the sugarcoated words of some guy.

-- Onto the end of the day, he made sure to make himself a bit more presentable, he asked you if you can accompany him to a certain place (this being were he is gonna confess), as he slowly turned around he was still very nervous, but it was now or never.

He cleared his throat as he looking at you nervously. "M/n, you are quite the charmer aren't you?, putting me and other people under some sort of love spell of yours. And if you let me, will you allow me and myself only to be the only one that who can wipe your tears away?" he said as you can see that there was an obvious blush across his face. After that he extended his hand to give you the bag that he's been holding onto from earlier. Inside, it was a treats that he already baked this same morning.

-- Kalim was doing his daily stuff (blinding everyone with such shine) and he happend to find across certain confession to his crush.

-- Now i don't believe kalim would be a 'jealous' type, but an oblivious type, so he would just straight up go and hug you by your back and give you a short squeeze interrumpting the confession without a single clue.

-- Kalim didn't undertanded why suddenly the other person left,but since your attention was on him now, he let you go and grabbed you by the wrist to his dormitory to celebrate something you didn't quite heard.

"Come on M/n-kun, we can have lots of fun when we reach the longue, i promise!" he exclaim while holding onto your wrist. Before you could say a word, he spoke again. "But promise me, this is only for the two of us, just the two of us, alright?" he said as he let go of your wrist before firmly grabbing your arm and pulling you more closer to him. "I can feed you all the food that you want, and im gonna hold onto your hand for the rest of our life, or even better to hold you for the rest of my whole life! isn't that sound amazing? just you and me!".

-- Shock. Pure shock.

-- Now what would our dear sebek do if he found out his crush getting asked out? many would say scream, which is right, but what if he wants his crush to admire him?.

-- Sebek was planing to confess himself to you this day,now he is not letting some low human get his human first, so he went straight to the point.

"HUMAN! I have been looking for you the whole day! Mmh? what is this?" Sebek knew what was happening but he needed to make sure, so he can properly humiliate such human. "That doesn't matter right now!" He cleared his throat and you could see the tip of his ear turn red. "So human, Malleus-sama has been waiting for you, and the only person who is worthy of walking by your side besides Malleus-sama is me! So allow me to take you there safely, and you need to look pretty, like you always do".

#twistedwonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #trey clover x male reader #kalim x male reader #sebek zigvolt x male reader #twst x male reader #kalim x reader #trey x reader #sebek x reader

[sugawarassoulmate]

omg you’re latest loser!kuroo drabble made me think like imagine reader nd kuroo are eating out (sitting in a booth opposite from each other) nd these girls from kuroos class spot them nd start chatting w him nd reader is getting annoyed so instead of saying anything she’s rubbing her foot against his crotch while looking (trying) unbothered

this was fun to write lol

words: 734

cw: fem!reader, jealousy, name-calling, footjob, semi-public, dubcon, minors dni

you can feel the irritation building the second he locked eyes with them. you and kuroo had gone out to eat at the diner near campus when some of his classmates walked in and spotted him. instead of a simple “hi and bye”, they lingered at your table.

“oh, we don’t mean to interrupt…” but you’re going to anyway, you think to yourself as the girl and her friend ask kuroo some question about their chem class.

and of course, kuroo is so willing to help. “that’s really easy! here’s what you need to do,” he’s so sickeningly sweet, so gullible. he gives you an apologetic look—one that says “please be nice.”

he truly has no idea that these girls don’t actually give a shit about the lesson kuroo’s endlessly rambling about. it’s so obvious from the way the one closest to him twirls her hair around her finger, standing in a way that her chest was pushed out, there’s no way kuroo would notice the way her eyes would cast down at his lips every so often, a flirtatious smile growing on her face.

if she wasn’t bad enough, her stupid friend was sending you a smug look as if this had been her plan all along.

unlike kuroo, you’re not an idiot. you’re aware how other girls look at him—what they want from him—and as much as he says he’s yours, it won’t stop these bouncing idiots from circling around him like vultures.

kuroo must have said something funny since the girls both let out their shrill little laughs, the bolder of the two reaching out to grab his arm. his nervous smile is noticeable and you’re immediately pissed off.

but instead of telling the girls off until they cried like you would usually do, you continue to pick at your food and busy yourself with your phone. let them think they have your tall idiot in their clutches. neither of them would know that you were kicking your shoes off underneath the table. they were too busy laughing at kuroo’s definitely not funny joke about atoms to notice your foot inching its way until it rested in his lap.

the way kuroo’s body tensed up let you know that he had noticed.

oh, you were so inconspicuous while scrolling through twitter. the dumb broads talking their heads off beside you had no clue kuroo was getting hard all from the underside of your foot. he’d cough to get your attention, his way of asking you to stop, but you sweetly pushed his glass of water closer to soothe his throat.

“your friend is so sweet!” one of them said, sending you the most condescending look. petty as ever, you returned the favor, foot pressing harder against kuroo’s crotch just to see him shudder.

you weren’t a nice person. if he kept talking to them you were going to make him cum in his pants and he knows it. kuroo’s face is getting flushed and he’s starting to stutter while speaking. the giggles from the peanut gallery is appropriate. he looks so cute like this. so easy to manipulate, it’s not even fair. but you pop another fry in your mouth and keep going, running your foot alongside the shaft of his clothed cock, applying pressure and releasing every so often just to hear the sigh leave his lips.

“i-i think that answers your question!” he breathes, voice cracking. “i’ve held you up too long you’re probably busy.”

“we’re not that busy! why don’t we join you? it’ll be fun!” she’s so eager, it’s embarrassing.

another press on kuroo’s cock has him gripping the table. “uhh, you know, actually we’re on a date. so, we’d like some privacy.”

their little act drops the second they spot kuroo reaching over the table to grab your hand. all you give them is a cocksure grin while they stare back in disbelief, muttering apologies as they finally leave the two of you alone.

once they’re gone, you take your foot away and hear his sigh of relief.

“this is a date?” you snort, as he catches his breath.

“baby, please, they were just being nice…” you roll your eyes, annoyed that he could actually be so stupid.

“you’re gonna have to make this up to me,” you warn, putting your shoes back on.

and kuroo knows. he always ends up making it up to you.

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #🍑 #🍑kuroo

[ms-scarletwings]

A Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One Asked For: Part I

Dem green fellas. Them lil guys, they’re an interesting pack of critters, aren’t they?

I used to really fixate on them back in middle and high school, stronger than everyone else seemed to be on the spazz in the dog costume. Jhonen Vasquez’s worldbuilding has always towed a very fine line between nonsensically ridiculous and surprisingly logistical, and this balance is typified in everything we know, and can infer, about these bug-eyed imperialists at the center of everything Invader Zim. So, let’s infer, and take a crack at it since no one’s stopping us anyway- More specifically, some thoughts and ponderings I had about how they “tick” as a fully realized society, not just a sci-fi monster..

A Homeworld Obscured 

Now, to really understand the history and “deal” of any civilization, or any animal, usually you would turn to their environment first to give you some handy clues and context.

Small problem, though: We actually don’t get much in the way of direct, explicit showing or explanations about Irk itself when it comes to the show. This makes some sense, given that the whole of what they do worth showing (and the most notable members of their kind) exists almost entirely off-world. So instead, we mostly find out more about Irk from what Invader Zim does tell us about its natives. As far as confirmed canon goes, we know that Irk’s atmosphere appears red, its surface is entirely and densely urbanized, and it’s long been depicted in starmaps with a set of Saturn-like rings. 

  This last fact is probably the most interesting, because planetary rings are usually something we, in our own little solar system, would only associate with massive, gaseous worlds, not terrestrial ones.  What These rings are made of is really anyone’s guess- could be ancient debris from natural satellites, Water-ice particles, maybe even some form of artificial defense network put into orbit by the Irkens themselves. If they aren’t artificially created, this would suggest that Irk has quite a strong gravitational field- greater than that of any of our neighborhood’s rocky planets. This is the common theory I personally like to subscribe to, because it would also go hand and hand with explaining why the average height of the irken race is so much shorter compared to that of an adult human. It fits neatly into the “why” question for the sort of athletic skill and agility we’ve seen invaders able to demonstrate on Earth, too, for otherwise being of meek physical prowess. It even adds some credible context for why the very achievement of growing to a more substaintial height is both uncommon and associated with extreme survival fitness to them.

A Fun fact that’s about to be relevant: “Rayleigh scattering” is the term given to when light wavelengths become shifted and scattered through an atmosphere medium. Long story short, it’s the reason our sky has color to it during the day. Stay with me on this.

I’ve also seen some people take a go at the red-looking surface, guessing a different gas makeup than the elements on earth responsible for our blue skies. I’m gonna go against the grain here, and actually contest that. I think that Irk’s atmosphere is coincidentally extremely similar to Earth’s. We know well enough that they both have a similar composition of gases breathable to both societies, given that Zim, Skoodge, and Tak all seemed pretty comfortable without some form of assistance on the same dirtball as humanity. Instead, I propose that Irk’s magenta skies are actually the symptom of heavy pollution. Sunsets and sunrises in the real world are known to make the sky appear more reddish-orange, even pink, as is. Usually, Rayleigh scattering has the light From the sun appear bluish in full midday, but during low sun, the rays are coming at an angle making them have to travel farther before reaching us, so you have already stretched light waves getting the same treatment from the air and, well, a higher frequency blue turns down to the lower end of the spectrum, red and yellows.

And wouldn’t you know, air pollution can actually do the same thing. THIS is why there's a scary ass orange haze known to accompany the presence of massive forest fires and volcanic eruptions. Earth’s most polluted cities even experience longer and redder sunsets for the same reason. 

Left: Image of a lilac sky over a Chinese city experiencing heavy smog levels Right: Intense red haze spotted over towns in Indonesia in the wake of rampant rainforest fires

On Earth, Zim stared directly into the midday sun without hesitation, nor concern that it would literally blind him. I think the planet hue and this is plenty enough to guess the likely case that Irk’s surface probably doesn’t get a lot of direct sun on an average day as is, and the sheer amount of unbroken cityscape that covers the homeworld would be the more obvious suspect than just having a more distant star from them. If they overcrowded to the point of their expansion, why build their civilization deeper into the ground, instead of up? Maybe there's actually a good reason or two they don’t raise their young topside.

A Psychology Molded for Domination

As well, I want to chirp about real world space again for a second. So, anyone up to the buzz in geek circles and aware of the math on the matter probably got the memo: humanity is almost matter-of-fact certainly not alone in this sandbox of a universe (or at the very least, we won’t always be alone). Like, about as certainly as we were about Black holes’ existence before we up and observed the real thing. And while it’s probably not going to happen in any of our lifetimes, sci-fi and media generally have been trying to take a crack for years at what the theoretical first contact with an alien civilization is going to look like. 

And I’m gonna go ahead and say it, 

As “cliche” and Hollywood as the conquering little green/grey dudes trope might have become… it’s actually not a wild take after all. The little and green thing, that’s creative liberty, but the part about them being hostile and something we may not actually even WANT to be aware of our existence? That’s an idea that even the smarty pants experts have been fearing the realistic odds of, even including the late Stephen Hawking .

The Evolution of intelligent life is a hard thing to really pin down and predict, given that we literally only have the one example to study. Under the right conditions, what reason would another advanced species NOT have to be equally as expanding, as exploitative of its resources, self-destructively short-sighted, and as supremacist as humans have already demonstrated themselves to be capable of? There is a lot of very interesting literature that suggests BOTH empathy/altruism and or aggression/tribalism to be (at least in the short term) very rewarding characteristics for an intelligent social species to develop.

And that’s the thing about the behavior of the Irken Armada I think has always been fascinating. Their drive to be the biggest definitionally invasive species across the cosmos is framed exactly as irrational, bumbling, and pointless as it deserves to be; however, is it not just the extended conclusion of every empire that has existed here on Earth, if only it had survived long enough to achieve the technology of Irk? And yet, it’s reminiscent, like the rest of their design, to the far from sapient, yet very real world creatures they appear to be most inspired by: hive and colony building arthropods. Whether the next point I'm about to touch on should be seen as a rejection of that resemblance, or further elaboration of it is anyone's to answer.

Transhumanism, or.. Transirkenism, in this case?

Like the specifics of what Irk really looks like and how it realistically works, a bunch about the aliens’ physical biology is left to scattered tidbits to ponder and piece together into a bigger picture. A few of those tidbits are as follows, drip-fed to us over the course of aired and scripted but never released episodes:

+ From the mouth of Vasquez himself, it has been confirmed that Irkens lack any form of reproductive organs. Instead, they rely on industrialized facilities to grow and produce them in a factory sense.

+ Yet curiously, they still demonstrate something akin to sexual dimorphism, or at least the cultural existence of masculine/feminine genders, where females are aesthetically set apart by the presence of curled antennae, eyelashes, and higher voices.

+ Irken lifespans are able to stretch far past that of an average human’s (Zim himself is cited to be around 2 centuries old in earth years).

+ Invader class soldiers have been implanted with surgical upgrades to their eyes.

+ Every Irken is fitted with a PAK that serves a wide array of utility and life-sustaining functions for its owner. These units are physically and neurologically connected into an Irken’s spine from “birth” and contain a cybernetic backup of an individual’s personality, assigned occupational programming, and memories. 

That’s not close to a complete list by any means, but it’s got the gist of what I want to dwell on most, starting with the last bit; because the PAK isn’t done true justice in one statement. It is not an extra addition the way a prosthetic enhancement is, and it is not a tool the way armor and weapons are. It is literally analogous to a vital organ to these aliens, and they are shown to die within 10 minutes of being forcefully detached from their own.

The degree to which Irken bodies and minds rely on this technology, and how seamlessly they are integrated into it, ALONG with their completely artificial life cycle all directly points to the fact that their civilization has advanced into a cyborg-like stage of evolution. It may even be on track to reach a post-organical peak in due time, phasing out more and more of their “vestigial” and feeble meatsuits until they’ve become a true drone army. And that actually begs some huge questions now that we realize we will never know how much of the Irken anatomy was ever originally a natural feature. An Irken’s own brain practically comes secondary to the superior efficiency of the supercomputer on their back, capable of literally holding their own essence and being in the form of code. A code that can preserve the “self” even in the event of meatbody failure, being uploaded post-mortem into the Control Brains’ collective data and repurposed for a future generation of workers. It absolutely would stand to reason that the species has continued this biological self-tampering to other heights- extending their lifespans, incorporating untold amount of mechanical upgrades into their bodies, and maybe even genetically engineering their smeets to be so compatible with this technology.  The control brains themselves are a mesmerizing reflection of this change over time- the result of an evident shift long ago from technology serving them, to them serving the directives of computers. When you really pay attention to the control brains’ role in the series, it comes clear to you who (or what) is really in charge of their society. The Tallest still maintain their symbolic/cultural importance to the Irkens, but outside of their part in spearheading the active intergalactic invasion, they ultimately are figureheads when it comes to actually running the homeworld and ruling the lives of Irk’s inhabitants. If I had to bet money, I would say the Brains may even have the ability to choose and predetermine the next Tallest when a replacement is needed. But what does that make the Tallest? A meaningless title and transformation, chosen arbitrarily by the AI overlords? Well, I don’t think so, actually… but maybe that, and more on the “meaty” morphology of their race is all a tangent fit for another day and post ;)

#invader zim #irkens #long post #sci fi #iz fandom #scarlet talks about things #oh boy here i go hyperfixating again

[nonstoplover]

my own superman ~ sebastian vettel (sv5)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: sebastian vettel x female reader

summary: crash, boom, burn, flames. waiting frozen, impatience, relief.

words: 2.2K

warnings: race car accident (not graphic), basically a near death experience from the outside

a/n: i had a dream. well, long story short recently i got back into f1 and my obsession has been growing ever since (hungarian grand prix 2022, yeah, that recently). started watching drive to survive too. and i haven't even reached S03 when i had this dream (i guess it was my unconscious going ahead). but when i woke up in the middle of the night my first thought was 'okay i need to write this down' because honestly my mind was literally spinning with thoughts. yeah so this is what happens when a fanfic writer has an f1 related, crazy dream.

it might be a bit too rushed at the end and i'm not sure this is realistic in any way but i'm still so caught up in this dream i had that i just had to write this.

you can say it's somehow inspired by bahrein 2020 and romain grosjean (even though as i said before, i had no clue about that happening when i had this dream)

please don't be a ghost reader! any feedback is well appreciated!

People often think it's the utmost pleasure dating an F1 driver. But (y/n) can say for certain now that it isn't at all times. It can be the worst suffering instead.

Most times it's fun, sure, but there are those days when it's like a hand cold as an icy winter day is gripping her heart so tight that she can't feel it beating anymore. The days when it feels like her soul has been ripped from her body, just floating in the air above her, waiting for the final verdict to see if it can move back to its place or instead it should just leave and never come back. Needless to say, these days are the ones where something, even the tiniest thing goes wrong. Because in this sport, in this life, even the tiniest things mean life or death.

Worry eats away at her whole existence as her eyes stay glued to the screens in the garage, her figure frozen as if someone hit pause on time and left her unable to move in her rigid state perching on the couch. Her glance follows the movements happening on screen, not even breathing anymore, just silently, mindlessly praying to whatever higher power that may exist that that worst day hasn't come, not just yet.

Seconds feel like hours, minutes feel like days as she stays motionless. No one moves around her either, but it's not like she'd notice anyway. Her mind doesn't – can't – wrap around single things like her surroundings anymore. Not until she can finally catch sight of him, moving. She wouldn't even mind anymore if he didn't stand up and walk out like nothing had happened. She just needed one movement.

One single movement that could show her that he hasn't left. That she still has him. That his heart is still beating. Though it certainly feels like that in this very moment her own heart has stopped beating all in all. She can just feel a tiny bit of fluttering somewhere deep in her chest – her heart refusing to stop fighting, refusing to stop for as long as there is still hope that his heart is doing the same. Beating for her. And hers beating for him.

She didn't even notice how much her lungs have started to burn before – just as a loud wave of relieved sighs rolls her way – she notices him moving on the screen. Finally she breathes again, filling her lungs with that well desired oxygen as her eyes, hungry to see more, to see him being okay, follow his movements.

And it's like he's not even human, not mortal. She can't help but wonder if he ever was – there certainly have been times when she doubted that in the past already. But in this surreal moment, he moves out of the smoke, out of the flames, one arm thrown over his saver's shoulder and slightly limping, but still, walking. On his own feet. The way his body moves is still so recognisable, even through the obvious pain his existence radiates to her from the screen. She could never not recognise it.

Tears roll down her cheeks in fast waves, but she doesn't even notice them until the drops start hitting the backs of her hands that are still lying on her lap, intertwined, white as chalk as she held them impossibly tight and under pressure. They are teardrops of absolute relief.

Then her body moves on its own accord and she shoots up from the couch as if she hasn't just spent the past several minutes frozen there like a perfect marble sculpture. She moves closer to the screen, closer to the other people, trying to find out what's next. Where do they take him now? How can she get there? How can she be with him as soon as possible? She needs to be with him. Just as much as he probably needs her too. This man... Her very own Superman.

- - - some time later - - -

"You could say I'm kind of a rotisserie chicken now," Sebastian glances up from the bed they forced him to lie down on.

"Oh, shut up, Vettel," the girl standing by his side glares at him angrily, her fingers tightly wrapped around her baseball cap he gave her just the day before, in order to stop (or at least conceal) the extreme shaking they're under. "Idiot," she mumbles mainly to herself, eyes darting towards the ground.

"Wow, you're really giving me the last name now?" He can't help but chuckle quietly, a chuckle that leaves him coughing, face crunching up from the sore feeling in his throat the smoke he's breathed in left there.

A minute or so passes in moderate silence, with only him letting out a small cough every once in a while, smaller and smaller until he stops coughing all in all, thanks to the sips of water she's helped him to.

"Two can play at that game," Sebastian speaks up again eventually, continuing his previous thought. After a momentary pause he joyfully adds two more words, "Mrs Vettel."

A grin is playing on his lips, but it's obviously not the same he usually wears, face a bit distorted from the experience he's just gone through. His eyes, those icy crystal blue eyes are shining exactly the same though as he's looking at her – and that alone is enough to make her heartbeat slow just a tad bit, somewhat closer to normal.

(y/n) shakes her head, playful disbelief expressed on her face as she listens to her husband's antics. "Stop joking around, this is serious."

"And I am serious." One more glare from her is enough to make him sigh before confessing the obvious. "Okay, fine, I'm not. But I just want to make this easier for you. I can see how shaken you are."

"Well, that's not so surprising though, is it?"

"No, but everything's fine now. I'm here, see?"

Sebastian beckons with his hand for her, trying to get her to come a little closer, to help her be more at ease now that the initial danger is gone. As she sits down on the chair next to his bed and her fingertips gently caress his upper arm, suddenly her vision gets blurry and she can feel a teardrop bubble over and roll down her cheek, followed by another and another and another–

"Shh, it's alright," he gently speaks, noticing the fallen drops as they darken the colour of her shirt where they land. It doesn't take long though before tears are gathering in his eyes all the same. All of a sudden the weight, the reality of what's just happened is crashing down on him.

What if he weren't so lucky?

What if?

When the nurse comes back to check on the driver, she stops abruptly in the doorway, noticing the couple leaning close to each other, soaking their clothes with the teardrops flooding from their eyes. She decides to back straight out of the room the way she just came in, as silently as she can manage, leaving them to let go and cry out what they need to.

- - - a couple days later - - -

"I'm just saying that I would completely understand if you said you didn't want to race this weekend."

"But I want to, I really do."

"Have you talked to (y/n) about it?"

"No. I mean, kinda."

"I think you should."

"I know."

(y/n) puts down the bag in her hand on the kitchen counter with a little extra noise and as she expected, after a faint gotta go, talk to you later coming from their bedroom, her husband appears in the doorway leading to their kitchen.

"You're home!" Sebastian smiles, not stopping until he reaches her and can wrap his arms around her body. He holds her tight, tighter than he did before the– before, she can't help but notice, even though she's been only gone from home for about an hour or so. It's not like she's complaining though. She does the exact same, snuggling as close to him as humanly possible, until she basically can't tell where one ends and the other starts.

"Who called?" (y/n) mumbles into his chest.

"Doesn't matter, just team stuff," he replies, and she can feel the tiny shrug in which the muscles in his shoulders move.

"Seb, I heard the word race," she sighs, lifting her head from its comfortable position only to find support for her jaw on the very same spot, making it possible for her to gaze up at his face.

"You did?"

His wife hums back, fingers mindlessly moving on his back, tracing invisible patterns on the material of his T-shirt.

"Damn it, I'm never gonna take a call on speaker again," he mutters, and she can see the way his lips twitch as he bites back a chuckle.

"You wanna go back this week?" (y/n) pushes on when she doesn't get any real answer from the man.

Now it's his time to hum as a response, his eyes travelling to her face, connecting with her orbs easily. "Only if you don't mind. If you don't want me to, I can stay at home and wait a bit longer."

Her eyes widen a bit as she hears his words – she didn't think she had that much of a say in matters like this. It's his job, his career, his dream, his life. Yet it seems like he put her and her opinion above even that. She can feel her heart give a tiny flutter at the thought. It's not like he doesn't express his feelings and what she truly means to him, hell, he does so every single day, reminding her efficiently in case she'd ever forget (would that even be possible though?). But still, this new knowledge, this incredible information means even more to her than she ever thought it would.

"It's not that I don't want you to," she says, jaw pressing harder and lighter into his skin with every syllable, depending on her lips' movements. "I just want you to be one hundred percent sure and confident before you sit in that car again."

"I am."

The girl only raises an eyebrow, asking him without words to elaborate.

"I honestly am. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think this is the right choice. I mean, I'm perfectly fine. Healthy. Not a scratch anymore."

"Yeah, and it's a miracle in itself. Doesn't mean it's gonna happen like this again if something goes wrong." Her words are followed by a shudder as even the mere thought of that is enough to bring back the memory of terror she experienced that day, the way she stood frozen in front of the screens with her breath held back.

His arms tighten even more around her fragile torso, holding her now truly impossibly close in a way to make the shuddering go away – along with all those memories he knows she's thinking of right now.

"Look, I'm just worried that if you're not in the completely good mindset, then it can mean a bigger chance for something like that repeating itself."

"I can promise you that my mindset is perfectly fine, just like it was a week ago or before any other race weekend," Sebastian smiles gently down at her before moving his head closer and pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, right at the spot where her hairline starts. Her eyes flutter closed at the intimate touch.

They stay like that for a few minutes, both deep in their thoughts, trying to come up with a sentence that would calm both their ruffled minds.

"(y/n/n), I can feel that you're still worried. You're all tense," his voice breaks the silence eventually, not really knowing what else he could say. "If you even the tiniest bit don't want me to go back to racing so soon, just say it. It's okay, I won't mind."

"Of course I'm still worried, when have I ever not been before a race?" (y/n) opens her eyes, smiling up at the love of her life. "I knew what came with dating an F1 driver the very first day, and I signed up for the whole package. Worrying has just always been a part of it."

She giggles at the same time as his lips curve into a smile wide enough to split his face nearly in two.

"So it's okay?" he asks, needing to hear the exact words to be completely sure of her choice.

"It is, Sebastian, but if you ask me once more, I might change my mind," laughter bubbles up from her throat, somewhat breaking the peaceful quiet in the kitchen with its loudness, but neither of them minds. It's probably his most favourite sound on Earth anyway, her laughter. "Go back and show them what a miracle you truly are."

"Thank you, dear," Sebastian leans further down to capture her lips with his own, mind slightly spinning and heartbeat definitely speeding up from hearing her define him as miracle.

"You're welcome, Superman," she mumbles into the kiss cheekily, arms moving around the back of his neck to gather just that bit more access to him.

.::the end::.

my masterlist| my f1 masterlist

[ do you wanna be added to my f1 taglist? ]

#sebastian vettel #sv5 #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel f1 #sebastian vettel drabble #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fiction #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #vettel x reader #sv5 fic #reader insert #x you #x y/n

[corroded-hellfire]

theres so many fics about the reader learning dnd for eddie but what about a fic where eddie has to learn about something the reader is super into and he doesnt fully get it but hes supportive anyways

This is the sweetest concept! Eddie would completely support you in whatever you love.

I went fully self-indulgent with this request and made the reader a musical theatre nerd. I was just thinking of a big musical that came out in the 80′s at first and picked Les Misérables. It wasn’t until I started writing that it occurred to me how Joseph has his own connections to Les Mis lol. So, it started out as a coincidence but then I HAD to do it.  

Words: 1.4k

“Eddie,” you say with a laugh. “You don’t have to do this.”

He fusses with the buttons on his nice white shirt, tongue poking out in concentration as he looks in the mirror.

“How many times have you sat through a D&D game for me? Even when you had no idea what was going on,” he asks as he fumbles with his top button.

“A lot,” you admit with a sigh. With a soft smile, you take Eddie’s hands in your own and lower them from the buttons. “You can leave the top one open. It looks sexy.”

He huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“I want to do this,” Eddie tells you quietly. You move to let go of his hands, but he catches them and brings them up to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of each of your hands. “Plus, I’ve heard the music before. You know, only every time I’ve spent time at your house.”

You giggle and a light blush comes to your cheeks.

“I know, I’m going to wear the record out,” you say.

“That’s fine,” he says with a shrug. “Pretty sure my Metallica cassette is on borrowed time, too.”

“Still, it can be hard to follow,” you tell Eddie, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “The whole thing is sung through. It’s basically an opera.”

“Babe,” Eddie whines. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your body flush up against his. “You sit through Hellfire meetings. You come to every Corroded Coffin show. You’ve listened to me ramble on and on about things you have absolutely no clue about. You read The Hobbit for me.”

“I liked it!” you interject. “I like doing all of those things.”

“Exactly,” he says, raising his eyebrows at you. “So, why do you think I’m not going to like doing this?”

“It’s not your thing,” you point out with a shrug, avoiding his eyes.

Eddie pinches your chin between his fingers and lifts your head until you meet his eyes.

“You’d never heard a Metallica song in your life until you met me. Wasn’t your thing. Why won’t you just let me be interested in what you like?”

He’s right and you know it. With a nod, you let out a sigh.

“You’re right, Eddie. I’m sorry. I guess it’s a little bit of a sore spot since I used to get made fun of for liking musicals.”

“I will never make fun of you for enjoying something. Anyone who does that is an asshole. And you know that I know something about being picked on for interests,” Eddie says. 

His hands rest on your hips and you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“You’re the best,” you whisper to him. “And you look very handsome.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and looks down at his outfit.

“Look nice all cleaned up, don’t I? Who knew I had it in me?”

“You always look nice, so shut up,” you say, hitting his chest lightly. “But you did a great job picking these clothes out. I’m very impressed.”

“I just walked through the store thinking, ‘What would Harrington wear?’”

You laugh and shake your head at your boyfriend. 

“Come on, you,” you say. “We should head out in case there’s traffic.”

 The two of you climb into Eddie’s van and he starts the engine. Before he pulls out on the road though, he reaches down and grabs a plastic bag on the floor at your feet.

“What’s that?” you ask as he rifles through it.

“These fancy clothes aren’t all I picked up at the mall,” he says. “Aha.” He pulls a cassette out of the bag, sheds it of its case, and pops into the player.

“Who dropped a new album?” you ask.

“Um,” Eddie’s eyes scan the case in his hands, trying to find a name. You’re expecting any number of metal bands you’ve become acquainted with since dating Eddie, or even a brand new one he discovered. What you did not expect was the name of a musical theatre composing genius. “Stephen Sondheim. Did I say that right?”

“Sondheim?” your eyes widen, and you grab the case from his hands. “Into the Woods? Eddie! This is amazing. You didn’t have to -.”

“If you say that one more time, you get no sex for a week. No, a month!” Eddie says as he pulls out of the trailer park.

“Ha!” you bark out. “Alright, say hello to your right hand for me, then.”

“Okay fine, I take it back,” Eddie says. 

The cheery opening notes of Into the Woods play over the speakers of Eddie’s van and it’s odd to hear anything other than rock emanating into the air of the old vehicle. 

You reach Indianapolis before the B side of the tape finishes and Eddie’s van sticks out like a sore thumb in the parking lot of the performing arts center. Eddie opens the passenger door for you, and you hop out, smoothing down your black skirt. He threads his fingers with yours and swings your hands gently between the two of you as you walk to the building.

The seats you had gotten were pretty good, and you’d have a great view of everything happening in the show. Eddie looks at the program held in his hands. Les Misérables the big white letters stare back at him. He flips through the pages, and you can’t help but smile as you watch his eyes scan back and forth as he reads through the program. Even dressed in his sophisticated shirt and pants, he still looks like your metalhead boyfriend, and you love it. He hadn’t wanted to wear his rings at first, but you assured him they were fine. You were so glad he did because you know he would’ve felt naked without them. The peek of his pick necklace hanging against his pale chest where his white shirt parts makes your heart rate pick up. Eddie is sitting here in a performing arts center, about to watch a musical with you, and you want to pinch yourself. The man of your dreams taking you to see the show you’d been dying to see on tour? You couldn’t imagine anything better.

As the lights dim in the theatre, Eddie places the program in his lap. He looks over at you with a smile and slips his hand into yours. He doesn’t let go of you the whole first act. He does, however, keep sneaking glances over at you that you don’t see. You’re so engrossed in the show, and while Eddie is enjoying it too, he’s enjoying seeing how happy you are even more. Sometimes your lips would move just slightly, like you were singing the words along with the actors. Eddie wasn’t sure if you even knew you were doing it. 

As the lights come back on as act one ends and the fifteen-minute intermission starts, you look over at your boyfriend with pure glee on your face. He can’t help but grin as he takes you in. Your face is flushed in excitement and you’re almost bouncing up and down,

“That was really good,” he says. “I think that last song there was my favorite one so far.”

“One Day More? Oh, I know! That’s one of my favorites as well,” you tell him. You’re practically buzzing in your seat, and it makes Eddie giggle. He doesn’t know the last time he actually giggled like a schoolgirl. 

“Who’s your favorite character?” Eddie asks.

A frown pinches your face, and you purse your lips together. Eddie knows it’s only a look of concentration, but he desperately wants the smile to come back. 

“That’s hard,” you say. “I like a lot of them. Hmm. It’s either Eponine or Enjolras.”

Eddie’s lips press into a thin line as he looks at you, making you chuckle.

“The poor girl in the brown coat and the leader of the students in the red vest,” you tell him.

“Oh!” Eddie says. “Yeah, I like the dude in the red vest. He’s cool. Good leader.”

You nod, trying to keep your face neutral so you don’t give away what happens to him in the second act. 

“I’m not a fan of the police guy,” Eddie tells you. “He’s a dick.”

“Pretty much,” you agree. “I get he’s only trying to do his job, but he still bugs me.”

Eddie brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it.

“I’m really happy to be here with you,” Eddie says. 

“Me too,” you say. “Like, I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier.”

Eddie leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“I’m just going to have to take you to see more musicals then, aren’t I?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #request

[thebestofoneshots]

WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED WHEN YOU SAID I WAS A SLY FOX!?!??? GOD I LOVE THIS STORY AND THAT JUST PROVES SO MUCH THAT I WAS THINKING ABOUT!!!! IM LITERALLY SCREAMING!!!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!! AND THE COVER FOR THE BOOK?!?!? ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!!! ITS SO PRETTY!!! BUT ALSO I DIVED DEEPER LIKE YOU SAID I NOTICED SOME HIDDEN CLUES!!!

ok so first of all right off the bat i noticed the little fox on the bottom! but also above that is “A labyrinth of lost souls” (now i know this might be reaching but idk!) so i looked up “a labyrinth of lost souls” and immediately got a bunch of links talking about assassins creed! and i quickly read over one of the links and saw that there’s a ring involved?!?!? and i immediately thought of the ring that y/n got from her mother! but i also saw there’s another game called wizardry: labyrinth of lost souls! so that could also be what you’re talking about!!! idk if either of those are relevant but for now this is just a quick rundown of what i can gather right now!

ok next are the the little moons in the top corners with the woman sitting in them! idk what meaning you have behind them rn but what i got from them is the fact that they are not full moons and she’s sitting inside of them while it kids looks like the moon is curving into her in a way? like trying to reach to her? idk again just the vibe i’m getting! ALSO THERES STARS IN THE MOON!!! WOLFSTAR!!! not only are there stars in the moon but there’s a single star outside of the moon but also in it? with the woman! it almost looks like the woman is sitting inside the moon admiring the star!!! idk!

MOVING ON BECAUSE THIS ISNT A DEEP DIVE JUST WHAT I CAN GATHER NOW!! I WILL DO A DEEP DIVE LATER!!! OK THE CONSTELLATIONS!!! I NOTICE THREE OF THEM AND I IMMEDIATELY LOOKED UP SIRIUS’ CONSTELLATION!!! AND WHAT DID I FIND?!?!??? THATS RIGHT CANIS MAJOR!!! THAT LOOKS LIKE A DOG!!! WHICH HAS SIRIUS’ CONSTELLATION IN IT!!! and where do i see a dog like constellation?!?!? ON THE LEFT OF THE COVER!!!

i believe the constellation in the middle is cassiopeia but i could be wrong. i don’t know for sure i looked up the story and don’t see how it fits in right now but maybe later in the story? hmmm

i can’t figure out what the one on the right is but hopefully i will find out soon!!! like i said this is just be briefly looking at the cover because i got so excited and couldn’t wait!!!

OK FOR NOW THATS ALL IM GONNA TALK ABOUT I WILL FIND MORE THINGS LATER!!! BUT OMG THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!! TO LIKE LOOK FOR LITTLE DETAILS!!! ALSO THE WHOLE PRIZE THING?!?!??? I SCREAMED OMG!!! I WOULD ACTUALLY KILL TO BE A CHARACTER IN YOUR STORY!!! ITS LITERALLY AMAZING!!!! AND I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO SAY BUT I NEED TO GET TO BED BUT JUST KNOW IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING AND EVERYTHING YOU DO ITS AMAZING!!!!

OK LOVE YA BYE!!!!

Tinny little fun fact so you don’t rack your brain over this one: Labyrinth of Souls was actually my second top option for naming Gilded Constellations, I wanted it to have a very David Bowie-esque vibe which is why Labyrinth (literally from the movie The Labyrinth, was just perfect, but I felt it was too corny (especially when the first iteration was Labyrinth of Hearts) that I went for Gilded Constellations instead.

Gilded being inspired by Golden Years from Bowie, and constellations because our babies are our moon and stars. In Spanish we have a word that’s “Astros” which roughly translates to “all the things in the sky” but there is no cool version of it in English so constellations it was in the end.

Aaaalso, theories are so freaking fun, I thought I’d let you guys run with them, so I’m helping you recruit some of my other readers, especially the ones that always approach me with theories since I feel like you could have lots of fun together theorizing over the cover: @moonyunebi @starchaser-lily @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @imdoingbetternow (no pressure btw)

Lovelies, this is a follow up to this post, and I’m also adding the cover here again for your convenience ♡

But in short, I was telling Comet that I had designed this cover and that is just as filled with easter eggs, foreshadowing and secrets, as the story itself… So you may or may not find clues for the story here ☆

Also taking this chance to invite everyone who has not sent questions for the future Q&A, to send as many as you want ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Lastly, there will be a mini contest later on, so Comet will not be the only one receiving a price, stay tuned, and send in all your theories…

Ps, That’s not Cassiopeia, perhaps you should look closer to where the swans swim…

Ps2, thanks for the rose and love kit, you’re lovely ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

#one shot #imagine #oneshot #moony #marauders x reader #sirius black #sirius x reader #padfoot #marauders x you #the marauders x y/n #gilded constellations #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x y/n #moony x y/n #moony x you #moony x reader #sirius x you #sirius x y/n #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff

[thewertsearch]

Asks Comp - 16/4

I literally did not know The Baby Is You was a thing. To be welcomed back into the comic like this after four months is very on brand for Homestuck.

... and wow, its outro really does match the end of this song, doesn't it? That's even funnier than if he'd snuck some of Megalovania in there.

Ooh, that's another liveblog I'll want to check out when I'm done! I've never actually seen a Worm liveblog before. Adding it to the list myself!

Nothing's really changed since I've been gone! I make a conscious effort not to do much Homestuck analysis off-blog, since I want my journey to be fully documented here.

It's good to be back! I'm looking forward to a full reread when I'm done.

Would you believe I didn't even know there was a book?

I also didn't know the movie had two (allegedly) terrible sequels, which is very funny. Neverending story indeed.

Thank you! I can't take too much credit, though - most of my tagging system has been crowdsourced from askers!

At some point, before we reach the end of the comic, I'm going to have to formalize my approach to liveblogging Homestuck's side content.

What I'll probably do is give each of them the 'lite' treatment initially, but if they turn out to be more canonical than I thought, or particularly interesting to liveblog, I'll 'zoom in', and analyze them properly. We'll see how we go!

Could you imagine the relationship dynamics in your average troll soap opera? The shipping web for a single season would make our heads explode.

It's a fun question. What sort of object symbolizes everything?

The first thing I'd try would be a star chart, Dave's magnifier and a literal planetful of Grist.

Added to the list! Not until later later on, though - I'd worry that the opinions and theories of another liveblogger could interfere with my own, especially if they're talking about it with someone who's already read it!

I would find it hard to disagree.

Do people think Act 1 is pointless?

I mean, it is the slowest Act in terms of pacing, but slow pacing isn't always a bad thing. You sort of have to take it slow when your readers have this much to get to grips with.

...okay, maybe we didn't need quite as many Sylladex mishaps as we got. But we still needed some. Homestuck has a lot to introduce you to.

I always pictured an English accent for Hass - although, interestingly, I didn't picture one for Jade. As a headcanon, I like the NZ one better.

Where did Grandpa grow up again, actually? He was raised by Fake Mark Twain, who was from Missouri - but I don't have a clue what a Missouri accent sounds like, let alone one from a century ago. I have a funny feeling that it's not the accent I'm imagining coming from Jade.

Now that's a ship I'd never have seen coming. Props to Hussie for coming up with something more controversial than my Feferi<>Equius.

All four kids, with four endgame weapons, might be able to challenge Jack's current incarnation - but they're not going to get the chance. You've hit the nail on the head - he's semi-perfect Jack for a reason.

I have several theories for Jade's prototyping, and every single one of them would make Jack even more dangerous than before. It's just barely possible to challenge him now, but things will only get worse.

Read the room, Serket!

Would Vriska have tried to negotiate? She feels like the type of person who'd rather take a beating than admit they're outclassed. Plus, I'm not sure how much she'd have to offer Aradia, who seemed entirely motivated by revenge (and, possibly, secretly motivated by timeline stuff).

All that said, I would have loved to hear Vriska trying to worm her way out of this.

I love it! Please send in the completed house, if you get the chance. That's going to look so cool with a moving meteor.

And they're both easily distractible! This feels like two people who might actually get on surprisingly well, if they were in, say, the same high school class.

It's hard to say what's a rarepair, since I don't know what ships are rare in the fandom - although I'd have a few guesses about the most common ones.

If we're going for a ship with very tenuous connections, I will submit Rose x Feferi for your appraisal. They're both fans of the Noble Circle, and their signature colors are pretty close.

You know what, I'll just review all of your ships. Tavros/Gamzee - PB&J - is pretty cute. [] I'd recommend Miracle Child for a number of reasons, but it does include a well-written Gamtav. Jack/Droog is more <> to me than it is <3. Like One Sundered Star might be influencing that? I'm not really sure. Somewhere I think I saw a Jack<>Droog. Your pre-shipping chart post isn't in the chrono; also, I'm pretty sure the A6A6I5 ask is one of mine. Gamzee/Eridan is a rarepair; I've seen it, but not often, and it's a <> in the fic I'm referencing. Kanaya<>Terezi and Feferi<>Vriska are strange enough that I've never seen them anywhere, really. [] And finally, Vriska and Tavros. These two are the textbook example of why the ashen quadrant needs to exist, and they're a perfect pair for it. [] ~LOSS (8/1/23)

I don't even know if Carapacians have moirallegiance - but those two would definitely work if they did.

Out of all my ships you flagged as rare, I think my favorite is Feferi<>Vriska. I just think they'd gel weirdly well together!

#asks #full liveblog #act 5.2

[oh-gh0st]

ok i need to write out the isolation after choro confession i am spitballing thoughts and they need to be out NOW!!!

so to start: choromatsu confesses to ghost after theyve finished their shift at the library and are walking nearby the riverbank

he goes on about how much he's appreciated them since theyve met and that he wants to pursue something more with them, blah blah "i-i love you!" yes. OKKK

imagine ghost feeling like glass and getting hit with a massive sledge hammer at that moment. they were always the one to say i love you, and rarely ever got confessed to about it when they were a little bit younger. and everything just stops in them like you could almost swear their heart stopped

they get physically sick and nauseous after hearing that. and almost had to lean over the bank just in case if they did get sick. ghost is silent for a LOOONNGGG while and choro gets stupid fucking anxious cause this is technically his first confession. they hate it, he tells himself, they really hate it!

imagine his disappointment when ghost tells him to wait a while before they give him an answer...

sooo atp methinks ghost wouldve gotten choro a phone... and ever since that day ghost has been Holed up at their condo and has refused to come out unless absolutely necessary (eg work or groceries) and it only spirals from there. even if choro tried looking into their condo from afar all the blinds are shut and windows closed... he cant see a thing, and he's starting to get worried.

like he is constantly trying to reach them everyday on his phone to no avail. the only thing that keeps him going is the "read" caption that he sees on texts at times. at least theyre alive...?

he doesnt know why ghost is doing this, but they do. theyve noticed him getting closer to them, and all the little things that he's been doing is making their heart hurt. they can't go through heartbreak again, they cant !

they absolutely refuse to believe choro is in love with them. or someone like them. sure, theyve teased him or flirted with him, but that was all in good fun, right?! right...? come 2 weeks after that day and ghost wakes up in their bed, tired and absolutely understimulated and weak. they dont want to get up again, but they have to. the birds need to be fed. dishes still have to be done. laundry... shower... have they changed clothes recently? they cant even remember that.

it isnt until they get a singular text from choro that they snap out of their daze, looking over to their phone on the nightstand. they can see his icon, and the special nickname they gave him as his contact name. god...

its the 23rd of the month. they last talked to him over 2 weeks prior... has it been that long? not even ghost has a clue anymore

this is where the relationship picks back up again with ghost finally taking the step and texting him back. a singular "I'm sorry" is all he could ever ask for as a reply, even if it hurt him so much.

they meet up at ghost's place and go on to talk about what happened and choro learns the full extent of why ghost has been skittish around love and distances themselves from it a lot. he reassures them he wouldnt do anything like that, and if he were to they have all rights to beat the shit out of him for it (his words not mine) and choro finally gets to see the more vulnerable side of ghost. its hard for them at first, but once they feel comfortable enough with him its opening floodgates from there

choro does help ghost get out of their isolative and depressive state dw ^-^ he cares way too much but its endearing to them that he would take time out of his day and worry himself over them. like wow....

#ghosts rambles #oso san posting #ghostoro #like if i could draw this out or do like a short pmv i WOULD #the idea is so vivid in my head AUGH #enjoy. smirks

[nxjirx]

⊹₊ ⋆ Tears For Another Day ꜜ

pairing: Vil Schoenheit x reader

└➤ 。✑ ─────┐

School stress piles up and an accident ensues. Don’t worry, Vil is there to take care of you.

ﾟ･｡･ ┊͙

Slight angst to comfort! Reader is gender neutral but they’re mentioned wearing makeup.

Warnings: implied panic attack, small injury described

Work under the cut!

‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - - - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿

I hate school. Between the rigorous curriculum of the college and playing therapist for the alumni as per the request (more like threat) of Crowley, things quickly became overwhelming.

So, it came as no surprise when I’d finally had enough one evening, storming out of the alchemy classroom, Professor Crewel’s confused yelling trailing behind me.

It was silly, it really was. The end of the term was near, and as a result we were reviewing for finals. The potion we were making was simple, something we had already gone over at the beginning of the semester. Foolishly I let myself relax, thinking that since I’d already done this before I could take it easy. Just this last class period and I would be free to go back to the dorm and rest.

I glanced to my right and saw Ace and Deuce bickering over the assignments instructions. Ace was holding the beaker above his head and out of Deuce’s reach, who was angrily insisting he do the work in Ace’s stead.

Deciding to interfere before a disaster occurred I swiveled to face them.

“Boys,” was all that had to come out of my mouth to get them to stop in their tracks. The stern tone and questioning arch of my brows enough to clue them in on my growing disapproval at their behavior. They glanced at each other, then me, then back at each other before sighing and reluctantly muttering a ‘sorry [__],’ and getting back to work.

I fixed myself in my seat and went back to work, only looking up when I heard the pitter-patter of Grim’s paws and the jingle of his collar as he climbed onto the desk.

“Here you go, a bundle of hawthorn branches, as requested,” he boasted, chest fluffing out and tail curling back and forth in a dance.

“Thank you Grim, you’re the best,”

“OF COURSE I AM-“

“Grim,” I started, a knowing look in my eye. “What have we said about volume?”.

He huffed in obvious disapproval but heeded my advice anyways. “As I was saying, you as my loyal henchman should clearly know by now I AM indeed the best, there’s no need for you to remind me,”.

I giggled and ran my hand from the top of his head to his tail. “Yes oh-so-magnificent-Grim, how dare I forget such crucial information,” humoring him was always so fun.

He let out a series of happy trilling noises and bounded back to the ingredient table for the rest of the supplies.

I picked up the hawthorn branches and began attempting to remove the sharp thorns littering it’s surface (as per its namesake). I tried twisting and cutting, but to no avail, as the thorns stared back at me in mockery, still in pristine condition. I felt tears of frustration prick at my eyes, the stress from the week and lack of rest boosting my irritation.

I kept at it until my vision went dark around the corners, as if a vignette filter had been put over my eyes. Star like dots appeared and I felt weightless for a second. All the hyperventilating and straining myself combined with fatigue were finally catching up to me. Before I knew it, the hand holding the pliers slipped from the force I was using, and in my disoriented state I could do nothing but watch as it sliced the palm of my hand.

I instantly recoiled, a yelp tearing through my throat as the tears from earlier resurfaced and began trailing down my face. The cut was long and thin; not something that would scar, but definitely something that would hurt for a while. I decided I’d finally had enough and in a fit of childish irritation I angrily grasped the safety goggles off my head and threw them across the room.

By now, the rest of the class had noticed my distress and began staring, even the professor had stopped his critique of a students potion and glanced at me in confusion and concern. I ripped myself from my seat and pushed my way to the front of the room and out the door. Footsteps and the voices of who I recognized to be Ace and Deuce echoed behind me, but they only spurred me on to run faster.

I picked up speed and turned corner after corner, only eventually slowing down after reaching the schools courtyard. It was empty, as classes were still on-going which I was greatly thankful for. I dragged myself over to the nearest tree and slid against the trunk, falling to the ground and pulling my knees to my chest.

I glanced down at my injured hand, the blood was dry now, it had been smeared and irritated because of my frantic running. My other hand balled up into a fist and came to my face in an attempt to wipe my remaining tears away. I felt my mascara and rest of my makeup smudge even more, and I was now certain I looked even more pathetic than before.

I curled in on myself in an attempt to block out the world. I was so focused on tuning everything out I failed to hear the dull thumping sound of someone walking on the grass towards me.

Feet shuffled just at the edge of my vision, and I looked up to see a crisp uniform, a Pomefiore armband attached to it. Vil was leaning downwards slightly in order to meet my gaze. His brows furrowed and yet he said nothing.

“Oh- uhm hi, yeah uhm hi Vil,” I began, startled at his sudden appearance. “Is there, uh, can I help you?”.

Even now, he said nothing but it was obvious the gears in his head were turning. I shifted uncomfortable under his gaze, having someone that perfect and pristine look down at you (quite literally) was nerve wracking. Him standing next to me in this condition was an oxymoron in of itself.

“Come,” he said, extending a hand out to me. I failed to register his words properly the first time, and seemingly growing impatient, Vil decided to take matters into his own hands by reaching for my shoulders and pulling me up to stand.

Curious and yearning for comfort, I followed the blond out the courtyard and back into the school. We eventually reached the hall of mirrors and faced the Pomefiore dorm’s mirror. Sensing my hesitation, Vil looked towards me and offered a hand.

“It’s ok, come on let me help,” and that was all it took for me to grasp onto the blazer of his uniform and follow him in.

I’d been in this dorm before, and yet every-time I was astounded at the grandeur of it. Living in a place like Ramshackle, it was a shock to process how someone could live in a place this nice.

Assuming we would be talking in the common room, I made a line for the seats when I felt a hand tug me in the opposite direction. I looked back at Vil and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Where are we going?”

“My room, I’ll take care of you there, don’t you worry,” he reassured.

We did a series of turns until reaching what was obviously the dorm head’s room. It was only when he opened the door that I realized I was still tightly grasping his hand. He sat me down at the foot of his bed and I hastily let go of his hand, posture unsure and rigid as to not ruin the crisp white satin beneath me.

Vil had taken to searching through his drawers, pulling out various beauty supplies and only stopping once in a while to organize them on his vanity table.

“Wipes, moisturizer, toner…” he’d mutter, no- not mutter, it was more coherent yet softer than a mutter, Vil was just like that, everything he did was so effortlessly refined. So pretty.

Finally - seemingly satisfied- he turned on his heels and faced me once more.

“Come on now,” a hand extended once more, hooked under my arm and guided me towards the bench centered in-front of his vanity and the mirror on the wall.

Still shaky, I made my way over and took a seat. Vil positioned himself right behind me, only bending slightly in order to make eye contact with me through the mirror. I squirmed in my seat, he was so close, the scent of expensive cologne reaching me and his warmth coming closer as he put a his hands on my shoulders and his head next to mine.

I scooted back a bit, nervous from the distance or rather the lack-of it. “To do what I must I’d like to first put your hair back for you, are you okay with that dearest?” He said, hints of a smile tugging at his lips. A murmur was all I could manage as a response. He was being so sweet, so nice, and to… me? Me, of all people. After seeing the mess I’d made of myself he still chose to help me. I had known Vil for a while sure, but I wouldn’t exactly call him my best friend or anything, we were just…. mutuals is all.

“Nuh uh uh darling, that won’t do,” he tsked in a mock-reprimanding tone. “I want to help you, but I won’t touch you until you’ve clearly given me permission to. So, I’ll ask again; May I touch your hair?”

A nod and a nervous gulp, “Yes, yes you can,”.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Very well, do tell me if anything I do hurts or makes you uncomfortable. Your happiness is the top priority as of right now,”.

He began to brush through my hair, gently, as to avoid tugging on any knots. He reached into a side cabinet and pulled out a cloth head band. A hand gently grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards, putting the headband over my head and arranging my hair to fit comfortably through it. He smiled “There we go, I’m going to take your makeup off now, okay?”. Another shy nod and he got to work.

I watched as he sorted through his makeup wipes and a variety of makeup removes for the ruined mascara that stained my skin. His fingers were quick, almost like this was all being done by muscle memory. Soon enough, he had turned back around and grabbed my face once more, a wipe in hand.

I stayed still and let him do what he did best, only slightly tilting my head at his command. It felt cool and refreshing, getting all the grime off of my face was already making me feel so much better than before.

“Now, please do close your eyes for me darling, we do not want me injuring your eyes by accident do we?” he gently chided.

I giggled and complied to his request. He swiped gently over my eyes, careful to not tug at the skin or my eyelashes.

“Thank you,”.

“Hm?” He said as my eyes flickered back open.

“For uh, for helping me I mean. You didn’t have to, but you did! I know you’re always busy, I mean how could you not be? Ive witnessed firsthand how chaotic your schedule can be,” a smile rose to my face, “I realize we aren’t exactly.. the closest, per say; but you really saved me back there you know? So, thank you Vil. I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me in a long time,”.

I watched as his eyes widened for a second before Vil turned his head slightly, his hand raising slightly to cover his face. The fainted hint of a rosy hue tainted his cheeks as he began to giggle. It was a warm and comforting sound, like the droplets of the first spring rain hitting the ground.

He began to apply moisturizer and various other skin products to my face while he spoke. “Im glad I have managed to brighten your mood,” tender hands brushed cold creams on my face, a welcomed sensation when coming from the pretty blond before me. “I just could not stand seeing you in such a state. Surely you understand , no dear? Someone like you does not deserve to be so down in the dumps,”.

He gave me the last finishing touches of his beauty regimen before removing the hair band and beginning to style my hair.

“If I may,” he started. “What caused you to react in such a drastic manner? Its very unlike you,”.

“Ahh, just school stuff, stress, Ace, Deuce, Grim, you know the usual,” I told him in a more light hearted tone.

“Haha, very well. Do feel free to come to me if you are ever in need of a pair of ears to talk to. Whatever the problem, I am here to listen, ok?”.

“Yes Vil, thank you,”.

He left his room for a moment only to come back with a small first aid kit. He gently grabbed my injured hand and got to work on cleaning it.

“All done, you should be all better now but do go to the infirmary if any irritation occurs,” I watched as he put away the supplies and turned to smile at me once more.

With that I gathered all my things and made my way back to my own dorm. Vil had insisted on accompanying me, only leaving once he had made sure I made it inside the building safely.

He had stood by the door as I unlocked it, and I looked back at him once more before I headed in. I felt his hand brush back a few stray baby hairs that had come loose from my hairstyle in the wind.

“Goodnight, sleep well dearest,” and with a kiss to my cheek he made his way back down the pathway to my door and back to his dorm.

#twisted wonderland #twst angst #twst headcanons #twst #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #angst to comfort #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

[wafflesinthe504]

The Rookie 5x11 Thoughts

Spoilers for The Rookie 5x11 below. If you've watched the episode or don't care about spoilers, please enjoy!

The cold open with Nolan and Celina responding to an online/ metaverse robbery was pretty funny. I mean honestly what would they even really be able to do. Like the stuff that was stolen in the metaverse probably did cost real money for the woman, but since its all online how would they even try to recover it? Get a programmer to get the stuff back.

Also when Nolan put the VR headset on and was just falling had me cracking up.

Y'all, we are actually in Chenford secret dating era and I am loving it already. Tim is so head over heels for Lucy that he can't even make up a fake story for what he was doing last night other than hanging out with Lucy. The whole first scene with them in break room was just so cute. And Nolan being completely oblivious. Honestly, out of everyone in the Mid-Wilshire crew Nolan is probably the only one who genuinely has no clue about Time and Lucy. Also Tim and Lucy making plans for 'nothing' later on was great.

Everything that happened before the first commercial break just had me smiling so much.

Aaron basically volunteering Tim to coach the little league team when the third coach quits. Him trying to backtrack but the suggestion but its already too late Genny and Tyler both love the idea of Uncle Tim coaching the little league team. Seeing Tim just be so soft with the team and trying to make sure they're having fun was so cute. And then hearing Genny explain why just made my heart break a little for Tim.

Tim and Lucy co- coaching the little league was adorable. Lucy helping Tim give the kids some structure and being so competitive when it came to the actual game. It was funny to see them sort of switch places when it came to coaching because we've seen Tim yelling and jumping up and down while watching a football game but from what we know about Lucy she's not really into football. It seems like she has a bit of a deeper connection with baseball or maybe its because she has a deeper involvement with coaching that we got to see her being more open and competitive about it.

Alright, now to more of the actual plot points of the episode. We get our introduction to the case by now other than Angela's older (and probably best looking) brother Damien. I was so happy to see Damien again. Really any time we get to see more of the team's families I always get excited. I really didn't think we'd see Angela's brothers again after the one episode they were all in.

Damien's reported missing person leads to the discovery of multiple bodies behind a fake wall and the potential start of gang war breaking along with everyone debating whether or not true evil exists.

I really enjoyed hearing the everyone's perspective on the debate and you could tell how their individual experiences and beliefs have informed them of their answers to the question.

When it was revealed that Elijah Stone was the one behind the murders and the setup I wasn't surprised. I figured The Rookie would end up circling back around to Elijah eventually since he was released from jail and forced Wesley to apologize on live TV. Come on the writers couldn't just let the bad guy win. Our protagonists have to get the chance to put Elijah behind bars.

I'm personally pretty excited to see how this storyline with Elijah ends. My one hope is that they don't kill Elijah like they did with Rosalind and La Fiera. There is more than one way to beat the antagonist that doesn't involve killing them.

Lucy got her own case. I really enjoyed seeing her teach the Citizens Academy students. Yo, that one person who was stupid enough to go into a police station with an outstanding warrant was really bold. I was cracking up as she was arrested.

I liked seeing Lucy's empathy shine through as she tried to help the DA victim. She continually reached out to the victim and even tried to get the her to come to the stark reality of her situation. In my opinion I think that this DA storyline was handled better than Bailey's.

Seeing Lucy absolutely wreck that guy was awesome to see. I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing Lucy engaging in hand-to-hand combat.

Bonus: Bailey and Nolan being to kind to be able to be landlords is too funny. I can't believe that Bailey really let the elderly folks go 6 months without paying rent. And then to find out that the elderly couple were renting it out for *that* was crazy.

______________________________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed. If you want come chat with me in the comments about anything The Rookie related.

Until next time have a good day or night.

#the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #lucy x tim #angela lopez #nyla harper #aaron thorsen #celina juarez #bailey nune

[marcianoliterati]

# A MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING ADAPTATION WHERE THEY'RE STUCK TOGETHER DUE TO COVID LOCKDOWNS,BORED AF, AND ON THEIR PHONES 247.

A SOCIAL MEDIA AU. SORT OF.

claudio benedict pedro and tagalong little brother john are roadtripping

italy.

they pay a visit to their old friends' parents house, where hero and

beatrice are also holidaying.

hero and claudio have been heavily flirting online

beatrice and benedict have been fighting online for like a decade,

basically since they met

everyone who follows them but doesnt know them irl thinks it's just a

game and that they're actually dating

all of them are online but none of them are big influencers or anything,

no one has more than 5k followers

and their followers beyond friends and family dont even cross that much

they all post about different things outside of life stuff

only beatrice and benedict intersect, theyre the only ones who have a

lot of different active accounts and they follow each other on every

single one, from like lj to fb to tumblr to twitter to insta to tiktok,

they even regularly show up in each other's reddit posts for the sole

purpose of disagree,most of the time, theyre not even in the same

subreddits or fandoms

but their spats are amusing and a few bits have gone viral before.

but then you get a lot of late-twenty something stuck together, and

posting all the time, reviving somewhat dormant account, it's like an

impromptu accidental reality show

at first its just like games, from tag and hide and seek to passionate

games of uno and clue,tours of the place, building shit, improvising

stuff, and theyre constantly posting little snippets, and so on

benedict and beatrice both post the same thing like "worst person to get

stuck with" and at first people thing they went on holiday together but

now theyre just stuck at like a villa the parents rented

"oh so you just met up while on holiday. riiiiiiiight"

they keep posting, complaining about dumb shit the other is one, about

their disgustingly in love with friends, and so on.

their friends also post clips of them arguing, like during games where

theyre always rivals,and others of them always seeking each other out

a new account pops up something like beadick updates or something, that

takes the time of trawling through all the accounts to post compilations

and builds a bit of a timeline of them through the years

then a different account pops up that start sending them personal

videos, clearly some of their friends having fun

they also post about the group discussing b&b (crucially hidden from

them)

and later both bea and ben hearing the others discussing them and how

they react

cue compilations like "no women will ever tempt me" next to "but it bea

wants me im down" and ben dissing bea next to talking her up after, same

for bea.

it goes like that for a bit

the leak continues posting them acting awkward around each other, trying

to argue then running away, spying on the other,trying to do something

nice while seeming like they dont care

then theres some event theyve organised

a lot of posts of everyone looking nice

a few of people drinking

and then a livestream of dancing is interrupted by a lot of shouting the

sound of stuff breaking and what seems like a physical fight

and then everyone goes quiet

then it switches

the audience, which had been steadily growing, is left in the dark, the

fourth wall is broken when they decide to reach in and find out what the

hell is going on.

someone hacks the complex's cctv

the updates account posts different bits, claudio having a huge jealous

tantrum and starting a fight, hitting hero in the process

then b&b left alone in the garden, with confessions of love to follow

and then shouting and storming off "i will cut his heart out with a

spoon!"

"for you, i will defy covid and the goverment" promises ben before

leaving

the others try to pack and leave, but are stopped and so they hide in a

small cabin on the edge of the property, where they start drinking

it is there where ben finds them, smashes the bottles and dares them to

make it right or he will reign fire on them

claudio laughs at first going "but why is the rum gone?????!"

but then he gets actually worried

the audience witness this via cctv, they see ben through the grounds,

finding the cabin,hear the smashing and shouting

then they start looking back seeing if there is any back footage or if

its been deleted.

it hasnt

they find a treasure trove

not knowing how to contact them discreetly,beadick updates posts a video

of little brother john discussing sabotage plans with some minions and

they tag every account

the cctv is only outside for privacy reasons so they only know it worked

when they see john making a run for it, trying to climb the walls, being

caught by claudio and beaten before john pulls him off

then everyone reunites outside, when they see them coming up

hero goes up to john and hits him, then she goes up to claudio and does

the same

she spits at pedro and calls him a coward

claudio falls on his knees and begs for forgiveness

but she tells him he's clearly not worth her trust or love

everyone is feeling hurt and sore and not sure where to go now

pedro steps up and apologises

he shouldve known better than to trust anything john says, he's always

loved stirring up trouble for no reason

and they shouldve come to her not make a huge deal and ruin everything

claudio also apologises but more begrudginly, same as john

as they all just sort of stand there, their phones ping

and so pedro goes 'hey whats the deal with the video? who found it?"

before anyone gets an answer someone checks and gasps

the audience, stirring shit up, sends the video of them all plotting to

get b&b together, and laughing as they talked it all up

"so you do not love me? it was all a ruse?"

they both accuse each other and then turn to their friends, who in turn

took to look at the cameras in suspcion

their phones ping again. only b&b's first, which makes them both put on

pained faces of "what now?"

so then everyone's faces ping

it's a video compilation of b&b doing nice things for the other in

secret

bea spent an afternoon learning to make ben's favourite biscuits, and

then just left them in the kitchen for him to find

ben spent forever tracking something bea forgot, and then hiding it in

her room to make it look like it was just temporarily misplaced

bea finding ben's favourite movie and casually engineering things for a

watchalong

ben coming up with a thousand different ways to distract bea whenever

she starts to look sad or worried

they all watched, as it dawns on them that a) apparently, theyve had an

audience this whole time

and b)it was never a ruse

b&b were always in love, just too afraid or stubborn or emotionally

constipated to do anything about it

so hero turns to bea and goes "all this time? what the hell happened

between you two?"

beatrice and benedict look at each other and just shrug

"it doesnt matter. we're here now"

they kiss

beadick updates posts a playlist of several hours on yt featuring their

whole story, with videos of them as teens, shyly flirting, to a lot of

screenshots and clips of them arguing online, to the whole saga in

italy, ending in their big kiss

as an epilogue, the two

#writing #fanfic #benedict x beatrice #beadick #much ado about nothing #there are not enough aus of them okay