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strawberrystepmom · 5 months

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malevolent enterprise ch. 2

ceo au series. sukuna and yuji are brothers. gojo x f!reader are endgame but this is backstory/lead up. reader has hair that can be swept off of their face. reader is a lawyer (ive taken creative liberties bc i am not a real lawyer so take it up with god if u find an issue) and has an established platonic relationship with sukuna and has an ex boyfriend that is an oc named shigeo. cw drug and alcohol mentions. wc 1.8k.

masterlist coming soon but in the meantime, ch. 1 can be found here

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune ♡

“Forgot I paid you to stand around, ---.”

Hearing Sukuna use a shortened version of your full name, you roll your eyes and pull your glasses off of your face, holding them between your thumb and index finger. Meeting his gaze with an indignant look of your own, you toss the pen you’re holding with your other hand down on the desk in front of you and groan in frustration.

You’re only standing in his office because you've been reviewing contract abstracts for hours and could use a break before your brain starts to turn to mush given his absolutely archaic NDA demands that would never be upheld in court.

“Am I not allowed to pace? Is that one of the workplace rules you’ve set we all have to follow, King Ryomen?”

He appreciates your sharp wit if nothing else so he chuckles, walking around you to plop down behind the heaviest and most ornate looking desk you’ve seen in a modern office.

Truly fit for a man who sees himself as a king.

“Can I make all of you start calling me that? Will HR have an issue?”

You scoff and shake your head.

“Yes. I have a funny feeling they would indeed take issue with you demanding your employees call you king.”

Placing your glasses back on the bridge of your nose, you sweep back a few tendrils of hair that have fallen in front of your face and sigh, raking your fingers through the top of your overgrown layers. You’ve been too busy lately to even get a trim, late nights spent at the revenge motivated Ryomen Enterprises preventing you from doing much but provide general counsel, as your position and official title state.

You left one incredibly oppressive job for another and you don’t quite regret hitching your wagon to Sukuna but you aren’t proud of it either, especially putting your own goal of having your own firm on hold to do it.

Leaving the Zen’in firm seemed intelligent three months ago after Naoya was named partner instead of you, the tireless hours you put into the blockbuster Miyamoto v. DTK, Inc. wrongful termination suit, the first of its kind in the country, meaning ultimately nothing when it comes to family ties and misogyny.

You handed your resignation to Naobito the next day who received it with a knowing smirk, glad to see one less bitch too big for her skirt suit step aside. Two months later Sukuna reached out to you and you assumed you’d be stupid to pass up a comfortable and lucrative in-house counsel position in a well funded company everyone had just started buzzing about.

It also helps that the founder of said company is someone you’ve known for long enough you have seen him shuffle through several life phases.

Needless to say the job hasn’t been what you expected it to be since saying yes though, sifting through a bankers box full of Manila envelopes, muttering aloud about all the shit you need to get done and the severe lack of hours in the day.

“The journalist hasn’t sent back her NDA yet,” you remark and he hums. He knows exactly the pretty little pink haired thing you’re mentioning and he smirks thinking about how easily he pulled her apart in a penthouse suite 8 blocks away a few nights ago but his attention is drawn back to the present when you slam a stack of papers in front of him.

“Your brother’s company doesn’t even have in-house counsel.”

Sukuna arches a brow, sitting back in his chair and slamming his feet on the desk. You don’t even jump, perhaps too used to his antics after only a couple months of working for him. It’s not like he was a stranger to start with, the senior you helped through your sophomore Contracts course remembering you fondly for your plucky demeanor and willingness to fight when necessary.

You simply remember him as a smooth talking asshole who charmed you into doing his coursework successfully but he signs your checks so you keep your assessments of his character to yourself as often as possible.

“How do you know what’s going on at Yuji’s company? Are you a mole?”

A snort is your response and you toss him a glance from over your glasses, one he knows means he’s treading in dangerous territory. Tossing down one of the near bursting envelopes in your hand, you pick up your phone and grimace at the text lighting up the screen.

Toge: maki wants 2 eat w u at some point this millennium - her words

Rolling your eyes, you text back and Sukuna watches with a grin, wondering what in the world could have you so irritated on your phone.

“That’s not Gojo is it?”

You scoff again and add nothing further, continuing to focus on your phone despite the second last message Toge sent you containing a link to a headline showing off the man just mentioned wining and dining a pretty dark haired woman across the world last night.

Quickly, you type a reply to Toge’s message to send the bubble with the news article further out of your periphery.

You: are you guys together? where are you?

“It’s my assistant reminding me to eat since I don’t get a spare second to do it working for you,” you finally remark, locking your phone with a wince.

You try to pretend you’re too good to be affected by the latest news of Satoru’s careless public hookups but you did lock yourself in the executive bathroom to cry at your own reflection for 45 minutes earlier so you opt for silence rather than digging the hole any deeper.

Why you care in the first place is beyond you, the two of you only ever orbiting around one another, no serious groundwork for anything beyond neutrality laid. You can’t help who you’re attracted to, though, and while there’s no use in lamenting that you’re nobody to the man you can at least sit down and dye your hair a shade darker to pretend he’d be interested next time you get the chance.

Sukuna pulls you out of the hole your mind is in, swinging back and forth in his chair, making it squeal with each quarter turn and further annoying you.

“When’s the last time you went out and did anything besides look at paperwork and smoke with the window cracked? You look like shit.”

The expression on your face is priceless, shifting to glare at your boss while he snickers to himself and shrugs, knuckles wrapped around his opposite bicep.

“Yuji’s party is the last time I went out.”

Well over a month ago. Sukuna whistles lowly, still shifting idly in his chair.

“I’m just saying maybe you need more than just a bite to eat to feel better. Text your ex or something, didn’t he just get surgery? He’s probably at home.”

The mention of Shigeo, baseball star, makes you exhale as loudly as possible and throw down another envelope. He’s the last person you want to hear about, given you broke his heart just over six months ago, admitting you didn’t see yourself marrying him when he asked about a shared future for the two of you. He’s sweet, he’s wonderful, he’s a good man but he isn’t your forever man and finally, anger makes your face flush and feel warm, your boss successfully making his way under your skin.

“Don’t you have illicit substances to snort out of someone’s asshole?” You look away and mutter under your breath, much to the amusement of the man watching each irritated step you take. “What are you even doing here anyway? It’s after hours.”

Sukuna takes his feet off of the desk and leans forward on his elbows, sucking his teeth. He isn’t sure why he’s here, actually. Perhaps he’s partied out and tired of hosting giggling girls with nothing better to do than hang on his every word or maybe he wants to look over his kingdom without prying eyes judging his every mood. Both of these are a little true but above all, part of him holds the tiniest bit of fondness for you. At least enough that he’s concerned you’re overworking yourself.

“Go out tonight. All this shit will be here tomorrow and I’m sure I’ll give you even more to deal with by the time the sun is up again.”

You sigh and look down at your phone, screen lighting up as another message from your personal assistant comes through.

Toge: den, just sat down. ordered you vodka soda.

“Fine but let your little pink princess know that if her NDA isn’t in by next week I’m going to sit there and watch you two fuck to make sure nothing gets out.”

Sukuna hums, brows raised.

“I always knew you were a freak.” You roll your eyes and he chuckles, standing up from his chair and letting it roll back far enough it bumps against the glass floor to ceiling window behind it. “You’re one of those girls who wears really sexy underwear but never lets anyone see them, right?”

Tucking documents into a box, you snarl. He’s not

flirting, he's making nasty observations as he is known to do. He has known you for long enough he feels extremely comfortable doing so and you can hardly argue with him. Who cares even if he is right? You’re a grown woman with a lucrative career and life, if you wanna wear 50,000 yen silk panties that’s your business.

“That’s more than enough out of you.” Another document tucked and you approach Sukuna, looking up at him with your mouth in a line. “I’ll be in by 10 tomorrow. Don’t fuck my night up.”

He nods, holding his hands up in a gesture of mild surrender.

“I’m serious about the NDA too. I’ll meet with her if you want but I won’t promise to be nice about it.”

Your boss scoffs but smirks.

“You’re always too nice, that's why you don’t have it yet but I’ll talk to her.”

Nodding, you acquiesce, uninterested in arguing while you tie your coat closed. Your phone lights up again and you look down at the message with a groan.

Toge: ice melting…👎🏻

“I mean it, Sukuna Itadori. I do not want to hear a single report of bad behavior in the morning.”

The only person allowed to still call him his family name is you and you turn on your heel, stilettos clacking across the marble floor with each step.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

His sly remark makes you toss another look over your shoulder while opening the office door but the buzz of your phone catches your attention instead.

Maki: If you aren’t here in 15 I’m dragging you out of that building myself.

Knowing she means it, you stiffen and rush to leave.

“No drama, Sukuna!”

You shout over your shoulder and he chuckles, opening his own phone and scrolling to the contact for the pretty little pink princess he hopes to have back between his jaws tonight.

#sukuna x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #malevolent enterprise

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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months

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More Reading Thoughts: The Prologue

I will never not love Tolkien’s framing device of “my fantasy epic is 100% a translation of an ancient historical book like Beowulf, it’s totally real, you guys, definitely”

“[Bullroarer Took] was surpassed in all Hobbit records only by two famous characters of old; but that curious master is dealt with in this book” is an incredibly intriguing line to me. You’d think it refers to Frodo and Sam, because of what they did to destroy the Ring—but the rest of the hobbits didn’t really care all that much about that. They saw Sam as just another mayor (if a very tenured one) and Frodo as a strange recluse. I think this line refers to Captains Meriadoc and Peregrin, actually, for their courage and leadership during the Battle of Bywater.

“To the last battle at Fornost with the Witch-lord of Angmar they sent some bowmen to the aid of the king, or so they maintained, though no tales of Men record it.” This cracks me up. First of all, the fact that hobbits claim to have sent some aid to the King’s war, but either they’re lying or mistaken or they’re literally so small and unremarkable that everyone completely forgot they were there. Secondly, this is the first and not the last time hobbits are gonna be a pain in the Witch King’s butt

“They were, in fact, sheltered, but they had ceased to remember it” is a line that goes so hard bruh

Today’s vocabulary word is “ramify, v: form branches or offshoots; spread or branch out; grow and develop in complexity or range.” So “large and ramifying tunnels”, in this case, paints the picture of the hobbit holes sprouting rooms and hallways that branch off like tree roots. Fascinating.

The fact that Merry probably has some Stoor blood in him still makes me giggle because they’re the only hobbits that could grow any sort of beard. I still maintain the headcanon that Merry has three (3) hairs on his chin, and he shaves them regularly and is inordinately proud of them.

“Sometimes, as in the case of the Tooks of Great Smials, or the Brandybucks of Brandy Hall, many generations of relatives lived in (comparative) peace together in one ancestral and many-tunnelled mansion.” That little interjection of “comparative” was not mine, it’s right there in the text, and it has me cracking up X-D

Merry’s little personal asides in “Concerning Pipeweed” are absolutely darling—including the shade at Breelanders, the almost wistful descriptions of how much better the plant grows in Gondor, and the fond way he speaks of Gandalf.

Okay so I once claimed that the book never refers to Frodo as Bilbo’s nephew, only as his young kinsman; but here at the end of section three he is actually called “Frodo his favorite ‘nephew’”, with the quotation marks and all. So the idea is already planted in our minds that their relationship is sort of avuncular (throwback to that old vocab word!) before we start the story.

“With [Thorin’s company Bilbo] set out, to his own lasting astonishment…” 🤣🤣🤣

Boy I still need to do Bilbo-With-Glasses someday

Tolkien taking several pages of prologue to explain the inconsistency of the riddle game in The Hobbit will never not be funny

“And no one else in the Shire knew of [the Ring’s] existence, or so he believed.” Except for Merry, who watched him put it on to escape the Sackville-Bagginses that one time.

It’s called the Red Book of Westmarch because it came from Undertowers!! Guarded by the Fairbairns!! ELANOR’S KIDS!! HI HELLO I’M HAVING EMOTIONS

“The original Red Book has not been preserved, but many copies were made, especially of the first volume, for the use of the descendants of Master Samwise.” I AM HAVING ✨EMOTIONS✨

PIPPIN BROUGHT A COPY OF THE RED BOOK TO GONDOR WHEN HE WAS OLD

AND THEN ARAGORN HAD IT COPIED AGAIN

AND THAT’S THE ONE THAT WAS “TRANSLATED” INTO LOTR

HELP

The fact that Merry wrote so many books and Pippin wrote none is honestly so in-character for both of them

And Merry frequently visited Rivendell!! You guys I cry

#chapter review #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

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xylianasblog · 10 months

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Can you teach me?

Pairings: Agedup!Aonung x Fem!navi Reader

Summary: You never knew the ways of his people but while he taught you, you taught him how to trust and love.

Warnings: MDNI slight angst (if you squint), smut, p in v, fingering, mentions of violence, praising, Dom!Aonung, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation, public sex, filth, just.. yeah

Word count: 3k

Requested: Yes/No

♥18+ ♥ no minors!♥18+ ♥ no minors!♥18+ ♥ no minors!♥18+ ♥

A/n: This was proofread a few times but if there are any mess-ups let me know, please. But uhhh... Ya know.. I actually don’t have any words but I am down bad for this man that’s all I know.

»——————⋆◦ 𖥸 ◦⋆——————«

Arriving with your family at the village of Awa'atlu was a new sort of feeling, not one of dread but more so unfamiliarity with everything. You couldn't help but admire the beauty of the turquoise-colored na’vi and their bigger frames.

You followed quietly behind your brother as he copied the actions of your father showing the people you meant no harm. You hid trying to make yourself smaller before coming to a stop in the middle as you all waited for the chief and tsahik to arrive.

As you stood beside your older brother Neteyam despite the situation you were oddly relaxed in the new environment, for you everything looked so pretty. Your tail swayed back and forth gently, slowly in a relaxed manner. You weren’t focused on anything until you heard two voices behind you and Neteyam, and your ears twitched at one distinct laugh because a small whimper slipped past your parted lips as you felt your sensitive tail be tugged on.

You felt eyes on you, they made your body heat up, but you pushed aside whatever thoughts crossed your mind. Aonungs gaze was penetrating, he was accessing you, no doubt he thought you were beautiful with your slender yet curvy body. He wanted you in that moment more than he’s ever wanted anything, but he knew better, he was a player, he didn’t settle, didn’t love. He didn’t know how.

You turned around quickly a frown on your lips as you looked up at the male who pulled your tail, your eyes catching his unrelenting gaze. Whatever words you had died on your lips and instead of speaking you looked away doing your best to ignore the intense look he gave you. You felt Neteyam pat your head gently before looking up at the chief as he spoke.

"Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea so they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless. My son Aonung and daughter Tsireya will teach the Sully kids" Tonorwari said before dismissing everyone, leaving no room for protest especially from his eldest son.

Soon you and your family were shown your new home and getting situated before resting until tomorrow.

»——————⋆◦ 𖥸 ◦⋆——————«

The next morning you and your siblings met with Tsireya, Aonung, and Rotxo before getting split up into groups to help you all focus. Tsireya would be teaching Loak and Tuk, Rotxo with Neteyam and Kiri, and Aonung with you. Aonung didn't say much as he led you off somewhere to begin teaching you.

You were aware of the looks he gave you occasionally, as he led you off, he was curious about you, about your life but he didn’t say anything. He was for once at a loss for words and you were okay with that, the silence was nice and comforting.

You sat across from him; eyes wide as he went over the hand signs once more. Looking down at your own hands as you attempted to copy his movements, you felt proud of yourself each time you got something right. You were so focused on watching your hands and repeating the signs that you didn't notice Aonung staring at you with wonder.

Finally looking up you caught his eyes and smiled happily, your pale green eyes shining with happiness, your smile alone caused Aonung to blush a bit before looking away.

"Aonung?" You called him as you both sat side by side, he had just finished teaching you breathing techniques. Looking over at him as you waited patiently for him to answer.

“Hm.” He mumbled just loud enough for you to hear him.

“What else can you teach me?” Your voice held a certain level of curiosity as you stared at him, your tail swaying around lazily. You saw him sit up straighter as he seemed to be thinking over all the possibilities of what he could teach you. Anoungs’ thoughts were full of many things he found himself getting excited at the thought of teaching you. It was quiet for a moment aside from the sounds of your relaxed breathing.

“I can teach you many things. I will teach you if you teach me.” He stated, his blue eyes finally meeting yours.

You tilted your head, a few of your braids falling into your face as you thought it over before nodding slowly. “Teach you what?” Your browbones raised in confusion, what could he possibly want you to teach him.

“Teach me how to love.”

»——————⋆◦ 𖥸 ◦⋆——————«

Over the next few weeks, it started with soft, innocent touches during training periods. You'd feel the touches of his fingers grazing against your own, or the feeling of his hand lingering on your lower back and abdomen. It was never anything more, yet you couldn't wait to be near him.

Aonung couldn't help himself, he had to be touching you, he craved the smallest bits of contact with you. When he wasn't picking on or bullying your siblings, he was being sweet to you, learning. He'd never actually admit that his asking you to teach him how to love was just an excuse to get closer to you.

Moments like now with you standing between his legs as he sat before you, he had a bruise on his face a nice bruise at that. "Ahh, Lo'ak got you good. serves you right maybe next time you'll stop to think before you pick on my sister again," you whispered as you applied healing cream to his bruised cheek.

You were disappointed but his fingers rubbing at your hips as he held you close made your heart melt a little. "I'm sorry... I won't do it again. Aonung knew one thing he hated the look you gave him as you tended to him. His grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you closer, you dropped our hands to his shoulders watching him with wide eyes. You both stared at each other before you saw him leaning closer and before you knew it you felt his lips on yours, it was a soft kiss that grew heated. His nails digging into your skin, his hold bruising but you loved it, loved how he held you like he'd lose you. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as well, taking your time to deepen the kiss to fight him for control.

Aonungs hands moved down to grab your ass, he groaned a little as he finally pulled away from the kiss. His eyes clouded with lust as he stared at you taking in the look of your half-lidded eyes and parted lips, he was pleased with himself. He rested his head on your shoulder letting himself rest before he began placing kisses against your heated skin, his hot open-mouthed kisses trailed up to your neck. You let out soft quiet moans and whimpers that drove him crazy, he wanted more of your sweet sounds to invade his ears and soon enough he was biting and sucking on your skin, littering your neck with his marks.

You felt him pull away leaving you dazed and needy for him, the smell of your arousing filling his nose pulling a low growl from him. biting down on your lip as you stood there processing the moment before he pushed you away. "Aonung?" you called softly but he was already out of the healing pod.

To say you were dumbfounded was an understatement, how could he kiss you like that and then just leave like nothing happened. All you could do was sigh as you cleaned up everything you used to tend to him. Once you were sure everything was back to how it was before you used them you left to go back to your family home.

A few hours had passed since the incident, and it was now eclipse and you were speaking with your father when Neteyam dragged Aonung in with his hand wrapped around the back of the boy’s neck. “Tell them what you told me.” Neteyam told him you watched in confusion until he started speaking. “We took Lo’ak beyond the reef and he has not returned.”

You gasped before rushing up to leave when you were stopped by Aonung’s grip on your arm, hid hold was soft. Looking down at his hand you roughly pulled away with a hiss that had him flinching back, “So help me if anything has happened to my brother... I will hate you forever.” Your usually sweet voice had lost any softness it held as you spoke to him in that moment, and it broke his heart. He prayed to the great mother that your brother was fine, he knew in that moment he’d be absolutely lost if he lost you due to his own stupidity.

As you rushed outside a horn blew meaning your brother had returned home, immediately you rushed to his side checking him after your father gave him a quick once over. “He’s fine, he’s fine, just a few scratches.” Your mother came up and she checked him briefly, “I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son.” Neytiri hissed. In any other moment you would have laughed but you were just as worried.

“No, my son knows better than to take him outside the reef, the blame is his.” Tonorwari said, giving Aonung a disappointed look as he made him kneel, ears flat against his head. You wanted to hate him, but you knew you couldn’t despite him nearly getting your brother killed.

Jake ushered you all to leave when Lo’ak spoke up making you hiss quietly. “No this is not Aonungs fault, this was my idea and Aonung tried to talk me out of it really.” You shared a look with Neteyam before you tugged your brother long after your parents. You gently rubbed Lo’aks back as he got scolded before he walked off, you caught him speaking to Aonung before he turned his attention to you. The moment he stepped towards you, you shook your head and turned in the direction your family was going in.

»——————⋆◦ 𖥸 ◦⋆——————«

For the next few weeks, you avoided Aonung like the plague as well as successfully making up excuses and brushing off questions asked by the others. You were doing a good job of avoiding him until now, he stood in front of you with a frown, ears flat against his head.

"Speak to me please, yell at me, hit me but please stop ignoring me," he begged quietly.

"You nearly cost me a brother and for what??" you yelled pushing at his larger frame. "I do not wish to see you again Aonung, I will train with Tsireya and Rotxo."

“Look I’m sorry okay! I was scared. Y/n.” he frowned softly as he grabbed your arm before moving to grab your face gently. He held onto your face firmly within his hands. “Before you I didn’t know how to love, how to feel anything other than pleasure from random girls.” He confessed.

You simply stared at him, your eyes looking over his face before you caught his blue ones, you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t, so you let your body relax as you listened to him.

“These few months when I first asked, I didn’t know you’d actually teach me how to love, I thought I was incapable of such things.” His words were surprisingly soft even for him, but he continued pouring his heart out. “I knew from the moment I saw you; I was yours, but I needed a reason. A reason to get you to fall for me like I did you. To love me as I love you.”

He pulled away; his eyes held nothing but truth as you watched him. “Y/n.. I see you baby please.”

“I see you ma’nungie.”

You barely had time to react when you felt your back being pressed up against a rock and his lips on yours, the kiss was heating and rough, the clashing of teeth sounding as he put everything into the kiss. Your hands moved up to tangle into his hair as you pulled him closer.

He dug his nails into your waist drawing a small gasp from your lips and in that moment, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, letting it caress and explore every inch of your mouth. Without breaking skin contact he began leaning hot kisses along your neck as his hands worked at removing your loincloth, small moans slipping past your lips as his kisses against your skin became more aggressive.

He let out a small growl as he nipped and sucked on your neck, leaving marks in his way until he finally got your bottom have naked, his fingers lightly brushing over your dripping wet cunt.

He rubbed your slit a few times murmuring “Look at how wet you are for me...” whined a little as you rocked against his fingers teasing your slit trying to get any sort of friction you could find. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re so needy for me.”

You let out a small whine each time he got close to entering you but never giving into your whines. “Tell me what you need yawne..” he whispered against your neck before pulling away to look over your flushed face.

“Need to feel you inside...” with the gentlest of touches you felt his fingers graze over your swollen clit, the touch was like that of a feather just barely brushing against your cheek and that infuriated you. “Aonung.. please fuck...”Youu did your best to rock your hips doing your best to get his fingers where you so desperately needed them.

“Touch me.. please... make me yours.” You begged.

He could help but give into you letting his finger slowly inch their way inside your sopping wet pussy. “Oh fuck...” You cried out letting your head fall back against the rock, your walls gripping onto his fingers with greed as he began moving them slowly at first, taking his time to stretch you out, preparing your right walls for him. His fingers were much bigger than your slender digits, his filling you up, reaching deeper as he slowly brought you a different type of pleasure.

“S’tight.. can’t wait to have this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock.” Aonung mused as he watched his fingers disappearing into your needy cunt with each thrust of his hand.

Your mind was muddled, in a hazy mess of pleasure as he continued to fuck you with his fingers your legs shaking slightly as you feel the familiar tightening, your orgasm was close and before you could reach that peak your body so desperately needed it was ripped away when his fingers were no longer buried deep inside you.

Your felt tears build up as you tried to hold back a sob, doing your best to blink away the tears as you looked up into those eyes you loved. “Shh baby.. don’t cry m’gonna fuck you now... fuck you so good.”

Aonung had already discarded his loincloth as he rubbed his swollen tip against your entrance, he was admiring that way you looked with tears in your eyes as you silently begged him to fuck you. He’d be lying if the sight of you so needy for him didn’t make his cock harder.

Without so much as another thought he was sliding his length inside of you slowly, drawing a loud moan from your lips before it was being muffled by his hand on your mouth. “Shh yawne.. we’re still out in the open.” The thought alone had you immediately clenching around him drawing a loud groan from his lips.

“Fuck... fuck the thought of getting caught turns you on? You’re such a fucking whore...” he whispered quietly as he finally pushed his entire length inside completely. The tip of his member brushing against the tip of your cervix had your eyes rolling back into your head, whatever air was left in your lungs now completely gone.

He stayed still letting you adjust to him before he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in roughly, his fingers now inside your mouth pressing down on your tongue to silence any noises you were bound to make. Your walls fluttered around his cock, gripping onto him tightly causing his head to fall back as he growled out.

Your vision was blinded by stars with each of his rough thrust, nothing about the way he thrusted and used your body was gentle. His thrust are hard and rough, each thrust brushing up against your sweet spot over and over. Your mind was going blank, you couldn’t focus on anything except the unbridled feeling of pleasure. Incoherent mumbles and noises slipped past your mouth.

He enjoyed the sight of you like this, his fingers fucking into your mouth, drool falling from your mouth and down your throat. He found pleasure in making you gag every in a while as he fucked into your sopping yet pussy, this only fueled him to go harder and faster.

You felt that familiar feeling building back up, you were close, so desperately close you needed the release. Needed to come, your eyes rolled back as your walls tightened around his cock causing his hips to stutter in their movements. His free hand founds its way between your bodies rubbing quick circles against your clit.

“That’s it pretty girl... let go... come for me baby.” He cooed quietly against your ear.

As if your body belonged to him in every aspect of the word you found your releasing around him, juices coating his cock in your essence. He growled softly as he bit down on your neck just as his thrust became sloppy, he made you ride out your orgasm as he chased his.

“Gonna fill you up... breed you... make your tummy round with my baby...” he cried out against your skin just as his seed spilled out into your awaiting womb. His hips moving gradually slowing down until they came to a full stop.

You laid against the rock panting heavily as you let your body recover from everything, Aonung kept you close as he peppered your face in soft kisses murmuring about how much of a good girl you were for taking him. Carefully pulling out of you he lowered you both to the ground, cradling your body against his as he rubbed your back. You were more aware of everything now, ears twitching as the faint sound of his words.

“Thank you for teaching me how to love, yawne.”

»——————⋆◦ 𖥸 ◦⋆——————«

Tags: @cinetrix @otasia @blueslxt-primary @tiredmamaissy @oceanstar19 @pandoraslxna @kxamtxomawteyam @avatar4life @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @ghostreadersthings @manumanulau @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @leelumenaura @dreamingofeywa

(If you wish to be added to the tag list let me know!)

#avatar twow #avatar #atwow smut #aonung #aonung x fem!reader #avatar the way of water #aonung angst #aonung smut #aonung x you #aonung x y/n #avatar smut

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sidthedollface2 · 9 months

Text

Third Love

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Eddie tries to win over your affection and use you in hopes of getting signed to your dads record company. There's just one problem. Your situationship and a heartbreaking past that threatens to expose the darker side of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ for ANGST, crime related themes, death of a character, death of a parent, nightmares, flashbacks, mental illness, violence, gun shot, smut (p in v, bjs) Eddie with other women (not cheating and i'm so sorry) 911 call. Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie. Spanish words.

Prologue

~El Musico~

Eddie was on his deathbed, the bats had clawed and gnawed through his hellfire shirt ripping his flesh wide open. Pools of bright red blood spread beneath him and stained his pale skin. The bitter taste of iron filled his mouth, spreading over his teeth and chapped lips. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes as Dustin held his Dungeon Master, promises of guiding sheep and brotherly love exchanged. It was supposed to be Eddies year........and it was.

Eddie walked that stage, snatching his diploma and yes flipped Mr. Higgins the bird. His friends cheered with whoops and hollers, wide smiles followed by tight hugs. Promises to always keep in touch through tear stained cheeks. While half the party moved to different states and colleges Eddie stayed in Hawkins.

An undisclosed amount of money landed in his hands for his wrongful arrest. Accused of killing his girlfriend Chrissy, and other gruesome murders he didn't commit, in a town that hated him. He vowed to never use the money, the guilt of Chrissys death too strong.

Nightmares and flashbacks plagued his mind, visions of cheer uniforms had him taking second glances in hopes of finding her blue eyes in a crowd. Eddie swears she haunts his days and nights, he can still see her sweet face in the woods as he makes his trek to reefer ricks.

Rick had been teaching Eddie how to turn his drawings into an honorable income by way of tattooing. Having already held a tattoo machine at a young age under his fathers eye, it was no wonder Eddie was a natural. Aside from his Tattoo Apprenticeship Eddie had dreams of Corroded Coffin making it big.

Tuesdays at the Hideout turned into Tuesdays and Thursdays, then Fridays and Saturdays. Soon enough the band had a small following with enough fans to fill smaller venues. Groupies had begun to gather around the bars that Eddie often visited, hoping to become his next flavor of the week, but Eddie didn't do relationships.

There was one though, Becky. She had gone to every show and bought the band drinks after every gig and she had told Eddie he could make it big in the New York scene. Corroded Coffin saved up enough money to travel to the big city, get an apartment and play some underground shows. Becky made herself their manager even though she had no experience in the position.

One night after a rather large show she made her way into their dressing room. Eddie had been sitting on the couch, legs spread wide and his head tilted back resting on the couch. The sound of the door locking caught Eddies attention, exhausted from the show he slowly raked his eyes over her. She wore a bright pink skin tight dress, heels that could break an ankle and hair so fried it could break in half. "What are you doing back here?" He questioned, sitting up and rubbing his sweaty palms on his jean clad thighs. "You did so great tonight Eddie, lemme show you how proud I am." Narrow hips swayed side to side as she sauntered to him, lowering herself onto her knees in front of him, she began to rub his knees fingers dipping into the ripped denim that frayed across his thigh slowly inching higher, tacky hot pink nails grazed his limp bulge and Eddie stilled. "What are you doing?" Brows pinched together Eddie grabbed her wrists, stopping her from going further. "Please, lemme show you." She flirted, Breaking from his grasp as she unbuckled his belt and shimmied his jeans over the curve of his ass, down his thighs to pool at his ankles.

It had been the worst blow job he had ever gotten. Eyes closed shut he thought of Chrissys mouth instead, blue eyes peeking up at him through her lashes. Sweet giggles and soft hands stroking him.

Becky would soon become Eddies official girlfriend, and he thought of Chrissy at every intimate moment. Wishing on all the stars in the sky for his ex-girlfriend back.

After a year of small venues and tattooing on the side Eddie was ready for bigger and better sets. Becky had promised tours across multiple states and even opening for local bands but money had been an issue, her cut had been more than expected. "Shes been taking our money Ed!" Gareth spoke through gritted teeth. Shuffling through pay stubs and invoices from various venues, ticket sales had been high but the payout was less and less. “Wait wait wait there must be some sort of mix up” Eddie defended, afraid of the wrath from his bandmates.

Becky had him wrapped around her little finger and Eddie fell into her trap. Without the band knowing Becky’s cut had grown to 70% barely leaving enough to scrape by. Without legal action Corroded Coffin suffered those losses, forced to stay under her management with little pay. After the band confronted Becky, she confessed to not only mismanaging their finances but also never booking bigger gigs.

Eddie and his friends decided that once the contract was over Corroded Coffin would try their luck in the City of Angels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“911 what's your emergency?”

Caller: “She��s been shot!!! I need an ambulance please hurry!”

911: “Stay on the line with me, where are you? And who shot her?”

Caller: “I don't know, he's wearing a mask. I'm. I'm at. Oh god I think she's dying!! 1524 Berryford Rd. Lenora Hills hurry!"

*inaudible*

911: I have EMS on the -

Caller:"There's so much blood. Mom! Mom! Wake up please! Oh god He's still here!"

*inaudible*

911:"Is there a window you could - "

Caller: "shhhh shhhh I'm so scared please help me."

*inaudible

*inaudible*

*shots fired*

911: "Active Shooter at 1524 Berryford Rd Lenora Hills."

*line disconnected*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie walked up the steps to the apartment he shared with Becky, rough pebbled stone under each step he took, exhausted from hours at the Tattoo Shop. Standing in front of apartment 9f he searched the pocket of his torn jeans for his key marked home. Heavy boots imprinted the stained beige carpet as he made his way inside, passed the living room through the dirty kitchen to sit on his side of the dinner table. Leaning back Eddie pulls his legs up crossing one ankle over the other, black boots resting on the wooden table and In the lining of his black jacket he fishes out a pack of camels. Flicking the lighter once, twice, three times a charm, the flame burns the tip of his cigarette.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Smoke swirls in the space above him, eyes closed shut with the threat of tears escaping his lash line. In the master bedroom the sound of skin meeting skin echoes through his ears, moans and deep grunts bounce off the walls. He recognizes the moans, having heard them just that morning as he had Becky bent over the floral pattern of their old couch. It sickens him knowing he put up with her lies, and constant arguing of matters regarding his band. When and where they should play, how often and how much of his money she was stealing. But he never thought she'd cheat on him, not after all he's done for her. Not after paying for her car, her phone, her half of the rent most months.

Stubbing out his cigarette he quietly walks over to the bedroom door, hand twisting at the knob. Locked. He places his right ear to the door, and the pornographic sounds coming from the other side are enough to light his rage on fire. Taking a step back Eddie forcefully slams his heavy foot into the lock of the door causing it to swing wide open exposing Becky with not only one but two men. "Oh shit." Eddie gasped as he witnessed Becky scramble off an older man that lay tied and gagged to the bed, who he later recognized as Tim the maintenance man of their building. "Who the fuck are you?" The other man spoke as he looked to Eddie, cock pulling out of Becky's ass, trying desperately to shield his nakedness.

Anger is written all over Eddies face as Becky frantically undos Tim from the bedpost allowing him and the other nameless man to escape. "Get the fuck out!" Eddie shouted, gathering Beckys clothes and anything he could find, shoving it in her arms as he backed her out of his apartment. She pleaded her innocence with eyes wide and glossed over, hoping to soften the hurt in Eddies heart.

But Eddies heart had already turned so cold that not even the California sun could thaw it through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Traveling from one coast to another, chasing that rockstar dream with nothing but loyal bandmates, and a van full of music equipment to get by. "So uh I hate to bring this up so late in our trip but does anyone know where 4 ugly dudes can crash for a few weeks?" Jeff questions, looking at each of his bandmates as they all shrug and mumble 'we'll figure it out' and 'don't worry,' Eddies "I'm not ugly asshole" has the boys laughing. He can sense the hopelessness of his friends, he was to blame for all their shortcomings and was determined to make it right for them."I made a few calls ok. My old neighbor moved out here with her boyfriend and she's gonna help us out." Looking out to the highway Eddie thought of all the things he wanted to see and do in California, dreams of the salt water spraying his face and Disneyland had him smiling all the way there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This Morning the Daughter of Twisted Records Music Mogul Mr. Javi was released from the hospital. Having survived a home invasion that tragically took the life of her Mother just a few short months ago.

Mr. Javi requests privacy as he mourns the death of his wife and secures the safety and well being of his daughter. Investigators have informed us that the suspect is still at large and if you have any information you're urged to call your local Police Department."

Taglist:

@amira0303 @edsforehead

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x angst #eddie x mexican reader

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hamofjustice · 10 months

Text

I don't want to just painstakingly copypaste my triple-layered self-QRT thread about it on Twitter and any other ones floating around but

I am very emotionally invested in seeing Penny, Arven, and (personally) especially Nemona again in the Scarlet/Violet DLC, after GF followed up the best 3 hours of Pokemon game story ever by having to abruptly cut it off the second these lonely kids finish opening up to you and say you can hang out with them anytime. Which you never do. It was some pretty painful whiplash, and I was sure the main point of the DLC was to relieve that, especially when their arcs don't seem quite complete yet. Very clever, evil marketing! But uh... well... about that...

It is very worrying that aside from a little "the story so far" montage, they have not been seen or mentioned in promotional material/footage whatsoever. Y'know, DLC for the game that's about how the real treasure was the friends you found along the way (literally, in Nemona's case), and even if your family and support systems fail you, you still have each other? Written from the heart by someone who said Arven's story is inspired by their own life? With the sappy Ed Sheeran song about reaching out for connection with others, that also seems to be named after Team Star? The game where one of the features the devs seemed most proud of was going on adventures and into boss fights with 3 of your friends? The game that ended with a fully functional and quite immersive bonding adventure with these characters you'd gotten to know and care about, that basically everyone thought was the best part of the game by a mile, and were left wishing the whole game was like that?

Yeah, I (and everyone else) have been driving around alone in that game for 8 months ever since finishing that story. 8 months of minor updates with a ton of the beloved characters functionally or literally gone, while we go around doing online stuff with nothing else to do in the world, with a single player postgame more barren than we had on Game Boy Color (thank god for mints and bottle caps though). I'm left just... wanting to go back to the way things were before I beat the game. Not to be overly dramatic, but this world I supposedly saved feels like one I failed to save. And I'm getting really frustrated. (The framerate hasn't gotten any better, either, but this isn't about that.)

It's like Game Freak (or whoever forced this thing out a year early, or both) never expected you to boot the game up again once you got bored of the Ace Academy Tournament, which the game acts like is the entire total of what you could want from being friends and "rivals for life" with your squad (I mean I'm the sicko that loves Tera Raids, so I'm not that bored, but still). It makes a bunch of implications that your adventure is just beginning, and then it totally just... isn't. Why is the E4 building closed? Why do you only rematch the gyms once? And most of all, for me personally: Why did we get access to our friends' rooms if there's nothing to do or talk about there? (Besides look for character study clues, which they have lots of)

All they could come up with when asked to write a newsletter email about what you can still do in S/V and why you should still be playing it was Raids. That was it. Remember when you had an endless challenge in the Tower/Maison that you could optionally take on with a bunch of story characters as your partners instead of alone, that motivated you to keep getting stronger bit by bit? Remember rematching gym leaders multiple times and watching their teams grow and evolve each time? Yeah, there's none of that here, because that would take more than a week to implement. If you want friends and you want battles, you'll have to do it yourself online now. They're not allocating any budget for that.

Your rival for life, who's so excited you're on her level now, who seems to have the passion and skill to be the your Battle Tower gameplay loop by herself if she wanted to, who battles you for hours offscreen with multiple teams, whose whole character arc is that she finally has someone she can do this with... is fully static, with one kinda mediocre team that never grows or changes. She can't keep up with you and doesn't know what items or EVs are. You have to get lucky to even see her at all. She is no more your rival than your Home Ec teacher is (no offense Saguaro, you're cool too). I think it's really, really sad.

I'm left nostalgic and pining to go back, having to cope through fanfic because my character can't spend the day with - or even so much as take a new trainer card photo with - the girl who said they might be her greatest treasure, without resetting my save, because she and the others are standing somewhere that the camera and internet features are both disabled.

Like, legitimately, I want to keep being friends with these kids the way we were before, and have the ability to do post-game stuff with them, like being able to go out and adventure together whenever in some basic, non-story capacity, or just, I don't know, maybe give them more than one line of dialogue in their rooms? I don't want a new region or new characters. Not yet, anyway.

I thought I was preordering the continuation of their story and rewarding the company for making me care about Pokemon so much again.

But, uh... I'm really worried that the people who own these characters do not care. And as I said on the trailer's comments before they turned them off (lol), I'll be pissed enough to not buy any more games if I'm right, and we're forced to abandon these poor kids. At the very least, it's some pretty garbage marketing to leave the possibility of that up in the air. If nothing else, that is a frustration that I'm going to keep talking about for a while, even if it ends up being fine.

I thought it was impossible, and I was being silly. Why not have our friends in cute new outfits as promo art when the DLC was first announced, and all they had was promo art? Seems like an easy slam dunk. Oh, they didn't yet? Well, I'm sure it'll happen eventually.

And then they weren't in the trailer either, months later. Are they trying to sell us on it or not?

The whole reason I want the DLCs. Still not a single word acknowledging them, just that little opening montage. Still no hints of how the DLCs have anything to do with Area Zero's ongoing story, either. How is a sea turtle linked with a landlocked crater?

So like... At this point I have to assume both DLCs start with you making your friends cry as they're left alone again, arbitrarily excluded from events they're more than qualified to be invited to, to make room for some new dweebs we don't need, who won't be given nearly enough time to be as compelling as Nemona, Arven, and Penny were, because that makes the trailer look more like a new game, and that's the only way they know how to advertise. More. New. Buy. Consume. Throw away. Buy. Consume. Throw away. I should assume this so that whatever we get can't be worse.

But they're probably not (self-aware enough / allowed / both) to write that. Your lonely / orphaned / anime-binging friends might just cheer you on for getting to go do something cool like being forced to train a new legendary because the story said so, then go back to being statues with as much relevance to your life as an NPC in a third story apartment that tells you what a hold item is.

Can't I just live in Paldea with my friends, in the version of the game we would have gotten if it was finished, instead of being pulled into these adventures for the sake of looking good in a trailer? (which it doesn't btw lol) It's not an unrealistic thing to want when that's what it briefly was, and I was so excited that it would keep being that I've been thinking about it this entire time.

...

I hope I'm wrong about all this, and next year I can look back on this post, happy that the DLC did actually allow us to continue to take care of these characters, conclude Area Zero's mysteries in a satisfying way, fix up some technical issues, let us relive some things that are currently once-only (including letting us see that photo album our character made but we had to screenshot ourselves), and make it fun to keep playing for years afterward, and let that be the model for games going forward, but uh...

They really are not showing me anything I care about in the game I desperately want to care about, that I saw - and wanted to defend - the heart in, despite the circumstances it was produced under, and that really worries and frustrates me. The surprisingly many great things about this game got my hopes up for an awesome postgame full of warm fuzzy feelings and cool things to do 8 months ago that just didn't deliver, and now, I'm not sure if they'll even let me pay for one, at this rate, because they're not advertising one.

Just throw us a scrap. If whoever's in charge here stops caring about this story, I won't care about the next one.

Anyone else feeling this?

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letstalkwhump · 10 months

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Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! This is Izzy and Malice and we’ll be your hosts today.

Here with us today is the one and only @whumpsday!

Let’s start with a fact or two about yourself!

My name is Mill and I’m 26! Aside from the whump hobbies of writing and roleplaying, I also play TTRPGs. (My favorites are everything in the Awaken Realms catalogue: Etherfields and Tainted Grail, and I’ll start ISS Vanguard after I finish the Etherfields expansions. Gonna start Vampire the Masquerade soon too.) I haven’t played any roleplay-based TTRPGs like D&D yet, but I’d love to someday. My favorite color is red and my favorite animal is the cat.

That’s sweet as! What does whump mean to you?

Creative content involving characters’ pain would probably be the broadest definition that still includes everything. I consider it a subgenre of horror, with the added bonus of often showing the gritty recovery from the trauma.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I originally found whump fiction on AO3 while browsing G/t content (Giant/tiny, content for characters with size differences, such as one being 4 inches tall. It’s the other niche art/writing community I’m in.) That led me to tumblr, and here I am! I’d always enjoyed whump-type content as far as I can remember. I lurked for a couple of years before finally making an account and joining because I was eager to share the stories of my daydream characters.

Do you think the way you view whump has changed since joining the community here?

It hasn’t changed much! Always been an OC writer and still am. But I’ve only been here for a year and a half.

Now the important questions: what is your favourite whump trope?

My favorite whump trope is probably an immortal whumpee. With a human, you’re bound by the constraints of a human body. People die if you torture them too much. But if your whumpee is immortal, that goes away and the possibilities are limitless. Bonus if they’re a generally-despised species like a vampire or demon.

Immortal whumpee are so good! Endless possibilities equals endless whump! Would you like to share some of your writing with us?

My main series, Kane & Jim, is undoubtedly my favorite. I never thought I could be a writer, and I’m proud of myself for writing 50 chapters of that and counting. Within that, my favorite piece is either Hunger (#15) or Papercut (#17). Link: https://whumpsday.tumblr.com/post/709301997070909440/kane-jim-masterlist-writing-order-click

Love the authors notes on Papercut #17! What's your writing style like?

I generally write in the late night (anytime from 11pm to 4am) in big blocks. I do not eat or listen to music, and have a water bottle nearby. I used to write very regularly but have since fallen off, and have just recently gotten back on track.

Is there an easy thing for you to write, something the words usually flow for? Is there something you struggle with writing?

I always find it easier to write single-scene chapters with no cuts. I find it more difficult to write things spanning long lengths of time with time skips abound.

And are you working on anything at the moment?

I am currently working on my pieces for the Whumpmas in July event (@whumpmasinjuly), which will be half Kane & Jim works and half one-shot short stories.

I’m so excited for Whumpmas in July, it’s such a cool event! Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

I’m not too good at jokes, so instead have my favorite cat video of all time for a smile: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rELs4jl64k

Aww kittens! That’s definitely a smile from me! Is there any writing advice you’d like to share?

You don’t have to write everything in order. If something in a piece is giving you trouble, slap a “COME BACK HERE” label on it and move on to something the inspiration is flowing for.

Finally is there anyone you’d like to mention?

Sorry this is a lot… I have too much love in my heart <3

@anomalys-taxonomy, @blackberry-bloody, @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night, @emmettnet, @lost-in-labradorite-halls, @lumpofwhump, @not-a-space-alien, @obsessedwithegos, @oddsconvert, @pardonmekreature, @quietly-by-myself, @t0rture-me, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whump-queen, @whumperstorm, @whumpshaped, @whumpwillow, @wolfeyedwitch, @whumpy-writings, @whumpzone

Any last words?

i forced myself to use proper capitalization for this interview but i’m a lowercase guy at heart

Thank you so much for joining us today! It was great to have you on the show!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

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sinumaki · 2 years

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BIRTHDAY

note. its my bday. i dont like my bday. i do love eddie. this is v self indulgent so yes i did put my bday in. it is also the first full thing ive written in months.

feat. eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings. self-indulgent. like very. THIS IS SO BADLY WRITTEN ITS EMBARRASSING. please remember i havent written in months thank u

☆ MASTERLIST

You can hear the poor attempts of your friends "whispering" outside your door, trying not to let out a groan as they all giggle amongst themselves. The calendar hanging on your wall mocks you as you stare at the date circled in red.

July 16th.

Your birthday. A day you - unlike others - did not enjoy.

The door creaks open slowly, as they try to invade your room much too early in the morning. A whispered countdown of '3, 2, 1' before a chorus of cheers and 'Happy Birthdays!' are yelled. You try to give them a smile - you really do - but it's 9:43 AM and you hate your birthday and your bedhead has to be hideous right now. Eddie settles down next to you immediately, a grin on his face that doesn't falter even slightly.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He whispers gently, pressing a peck to your cheek. Well, this isn't the worst. Dustin interrupts the moment immediately, holding a poorly wrapped box in his hands - the proud gleam in his eyes as he urges you to take it makes you think he may have personalised this gift himself. You pull him in for a hug, and then continue to do so for the rest (Nancy's gift excites you a little more than the others, knowing whatevers under the pastel pink wrapping paper is thoughtful to you.)

"Alright, alright!" Eddie jumps up, beginning to push the others out of your room as they complain, "It's my girlfriend's birthday and therefore up to me to make her day - so shoo!" He has to give Dustin and Lucas one last hard shove before slamming the door dramatically, theatrically wiping his hands on his jacket - a new jacket it seems.

"Hi, honey." You say, morning voice obvious.

"Hi to you too, beautiful." Eddie seats himself down once more, pushing aside the gifts now littered amongst your bed as you jump into his arms. "You ready for the best birthday you've ever had?" You nod stiffly - knowing as long as you're with Eddie, you won't ever really have a bad day. Even on your detested birthday. "'Cmon baby, that's not nearly enthusiastic enough."

"Sorry, Eds." You nuzzle into his neck, mumbling, "I don't really like my birthday, y'know?" He nods.

"Then, don't think of today as your birthday. Think of it as… as us having an insanely fancy date on this particular day for no reason!"

"So, you're taking me on an 'insanely fancy date' today?" Eddie freezes, mumbling a string of 'fuck' and 'shit' under his breath. You laugh, watching him fumble as you instead busy yourself with playing with his jacket. "This for me too?" You ask.

"Yeah - I didn't think my Black Sabbath tees would be the most appropriate look for En-" He stops himself, jokingly pushing you back down as he hops up, "Stop! No more making me spoil our date today!"

"I'm not making you!" You giggle once more, pulling yourself up. "So, I should wear something appropriate for Enzo's, right?"

"Are you fucking-"

—

Walking hand-in-hand with Eddie along the dark streets of Hawkins with his jacket over your shoulders is enough to make you positively swoon, and you quite literally have to force yourself to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Eddie had postively been the best gentleman all night long (Apart from the breadstick sword fight he initiated, but that's up to interpretation), and when he had asked for a combined bill at the end of dinner, his eagerness to sell to just about anything that walked in the last few weeks made sense - and it only made your heart flutter some more to know how long he had been planning leading up to your birthday.

Speaking of which - this may be the last birthday you can remember not hating.

"So," Eddie begins, obviously nervous despite the smirk he sports, "You have fun today?" You snort.

"Firstly, you sound like a dad." His comments of 'Well, I'd be a great one,' die down as you continue, "But yes, I did." Eddie smiles, genuinely. A soft smile that makes his eyelids crinkle and accentuates those pretty brown eyes. "Thank you." You whisper into the howling wind of the night, but he hears you anyway. He always does.

You pretend not to see your mother peeking at you and Eddie through the window as you reach home - slightly (extremely) disappointed at how short the walk felt. It's quiet between the two of you, no words are really needed anyway when Eddie intertwines your fingers, pulling you in by the waist for a kiss - or 5. A breathless "I love you" comes from him in between every kiss, and you want to laugh because you should be saying it.

"Eddie - My mum's definitely watching." He sighs, unable to resist going in for just one more kiss.

"I know you don't like your birthday, but I couldn't resist getting you a present," You groan, but he cuts you off, "Nothing expensive or grand like Enzo's! Swear! Just… Just ask your mum for 'Eddie's present' when you get inside, alright?" You raise an eyebrow, but agree anyway, and with one last, last, kiss, your Romeo is off.

"Mum?" You ask into the house, knowing she can't have run off far from her creeping at the window.

"Welcome home - how did your date go?" She asks, and you roll your eyes with a snort.

"Clearly well, as you saw." She waves you off. "Uhm, Eddie said he had a gift for me." She points to the fridge, and you see a smile tug at her lips.

Eddie's gift is front and center as soon as you open the fridge - a pretty pink cake with sprinkles thrown onto the terribly spread icing. Eddie's appalling handwriting is somehow even more illegible in the black icing on top.

Happy birthday, love.

#sinumaki #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things oneshot #stranger things x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson fic

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i-have-a-sideblog-problem · 1 year

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Let's World Build: Obey Me RAD Headcanons

These are just a few random headcanons about how I think RAD works, and how everyone fits into the school. (Don't mind the grammar and spelling mistakes💙)

The reason that all the characters are still in school, even though they're each several thousand years old, is because school years last longer for demons than humans. Humans on the low end will be in school for 12-ish yrs, and if you go onto higher education it could be another 4-6 yrs or longer. Since demons live longer it makes sense that school would take up more of their life.

Why is Luke going to RAD, if RAD is a college (at least to older players it is)? For the same reason high schoolers are seen in college classes. He's one of those young high schoolers that get to take low-level college classes for credits. (If I wrote a human college AU, Luke would be a 14-year-old who gets adopted by Simon and Solomon after they took one look at him, and went 'damn this kid is going to get eaten alive at this place'.)

All the boys are in different grades. And goes as followed: (from the lowest grade to the highest)

i) Beel, Belphie, and Mammon are in the lowest grade together. Mammon is with them because he doesn't try in class and has had to repeat a grade or two. Though I am 100% team Mammon is a genius, but also so fucking stupid. Also, he's in advanced math.

ii) Simone and Luke are in the same grade level as Mammon, Beel, and Belphie, but don't take classes with them. They were put in different periods to force Luke help them meet other demons aside from the brothers. But everyone has lunch together.

iii) Next is Amso, (mostly) on his own. He's in the grade level he's supposed to be at. He does well in his class and may or may not charm someone for extra points.

iv) Levi is technically also in a grade on his own, but takes (almost only online) classes with all of his brothers. His anxiety really fucked him over when he tried to go to class in person. Once he fully quit trying to go in person, Lucifer worked with Diavolo to have a personal schedule to work out what different levels Levi is actually at so he won't flunk out of school.

v) Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos are in the same grade, along with Satan. Though Satan is only with them for half of those classes. For the other half, Satan is actually at the grade level Mammon should be at (so I guess a grade lower than Lucifer). And Satan hates it. Sure he's proud to have skipped grades and he's even in advanced classes, but having to share the same space as Lucifer, awful!

vi) I honestly don't believe Diavolo and Barbatos need/have to go to school. But Diavolo does go to RAD because he thinks it's fun, and that it will help with making him seem more personable to his citizens. And since his lord wants to go to school Barbatos will stick by Diavolo's side.

vii) Solomon also doesn't need to be at RAD because he's a witty little sorcerer. He works as a teacher's assistant in several classes for credit, and chargers for private tutoring on occasion. Though for extracurricular classes like art, writing, etc. he takes them with Asmo.

viiii) MC takes classes with all the boys. The original plan was to have MC just be in the same classes with Mammon but the professors realized quickly that this human needs a special schedule else they'd be the third member of HOL that would almost fail out of school.

x) Don't ask me about the new undateables I'm not that far in the game yet. But, to guess Thirteen and Raphael are in a grade lower then the group that's with Mammon. And Mesphisto is in the same classes as Lucifer and he also hates it.

RAD is not the only school in the Devildom, but is the most prestigious and sought after school to attend.

An academy level school is more prestigious then a human world Ivy League college. That being said RAD is filled with high-end rich kid demons. Not saying every demon is stuck up though.

Diavolo picked RAD for the exchange program not only because the school is in his name sake. But, also due to the students of RAD being a toughter group to convince of his plan for unity. A lot of the students grew up believing/following old guard thoughts about humans and angels. In Diavolo's mind, if he can convince the students of RAD then it will be easier to convince the rest of the Devildom's citizens.

Demons graduate with degrees in leadership or in soul collecting. (ie.: working in one of the rings of Hell, being sent to the human world to make packs, or learning how to be apart of the Demon's Lord court)

There are other trade schools in the Devildom the teach skill like art, sewing, high level magic, etc.

That's all I got for now hope you enjoyed my ramblings 💙🐏

#obey me #obey me brothers #obey me dateables #obey me this is my canon #obey me headcanon #obey me headcanons #obey me let's world build

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queen-scribbles · 2 months

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— 10 Characters

I was tagged by @valkblue to play this game. Thank you for the tag, and sorry it took me so long to answer 😅(what I have learned from this is I gave my Pillars of Eternity girls lots of EXCELLENT dialogue) Also a lot are two characters to give context for the line or bc I'm proud of the back and forth(have I mentioned I love writing banter?)

Rules: pick up to 10 characters and share one of your favorite lines of dialogue you have ever written for them!

Tavi(Pillars of Eternity) in Deep Roots

Her eyes narrowed at the presence of kith, then flew wide when her gaze landed on Heodan. She physically recoiled, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “Aren’t you fuckin’ dead?” Apparently, in her mind, she had.

2. Cam/Liam (ME:A) in The Answer

Cam grinned and sat back on her heels. “Oh, so there was a plan that didn’t involve springing it out of the blue and almost givin’ me a heart attack?” she asked playfully. “I don’t think you wanna go there,” [Liam] shot back just as playfully, arching a brow at her. “Giving the love of my life a heart attack isn’t really a category where you have a leg to stand on, Camille.”

3. Jaaide (SWtOR) in Cracks

“If I’d opted for directness over subtlety and still failed to sway her, would my hands be clean enough for you?!”

4. Adi/Heodan(Pillars of Eternity) in a handholding prompt:

His fingers played along with hers, tracing soft lines across her knuckles and down her wrist. “I like listening to you talk.” A beat. “Especially about the things you love.” Warmth bloomed in her chest and sent a ripple through her fur. “Well, then.[...]Prepare to hear a lot about yourself.[...] Because there are few things I love more.”

5. Keme/Jorgan (SWtOR) in Got Your Back

“Thought-ah!-Thought I was the boss,” she joked, even as pain tightened her jaw[...] “Only when you’re not bleeding to death,” Jorgan growled.

6. Janine(Wayhaven) in Jinx!

Adam had a very skeptical eyebrow arched by the time she finished. “Jinxes are mere superstition, Detective. They cannot cause you harm because they are not real.” “Says the vampire,” Janine shot back immediately with a grin and arched brow of her own.

7. Kayris/Atton(KotOR2) in Gamble

Kayris smirked teasingly at Atton. “We let him loose in a cantina, it’ll be anything but short.” “Hey, now,” he protested with a smirk of his own. “It’s not my fault a lot of people are worse at pazaak than alcohol makes them think they are.”

8. Endrali(SWtOR) in a kiss prompt

“Arcann. Aside from me getting to decide who ‘deserves’ me and I picked you, I fell in love with you, maybe it’s not about deserve as much as what we have, and you” –she leaned in and kissed him– “have me.”

9. Ves/Kurt(Greedfall) in Wonder

“Someday I’ll figure what I did to deserve you,” he managed. “And I’ll happily reel off my list until it sinks in,” she returned quietly, sliding both hands forward to cup his jaw. “You are enough, Kurt. Just you.”

10. Bao-Dur in Old Habits

[Evony:] “Would you like some help?” “If you want, I know you like to tinker,” he said with a quiet laugh. “But don’t feel obligated; I built it one-handed, I can fix it that way, too.”

(No Trinne or Harvey just bc there's SO MUCH I've written for them it would take forever to narrow it down, but I am v proud of their exchange at the Gnawed Noble in the most recent OWaP chapter and Harvey's "I love you more than always having [quiet moments] to myself" line in the Sunrise OC Kiss fill)

uhhhhhh just open tagging for anyone who wants to show off some writing stuff

#tagged #(also y'all know i love arcann's 'you make a great many things better' in unbowed. time to let some other stuff shine)#i am unironically proud of the vast majority of what i've written so this was HARD man

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polutrope · 1 year

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Saeros and Daeron (and semicolons)

So probably the most incriminating charge against Daeron isn't his betrayal of Lúthien's trust, but his friendship with Saeros. At least, it's the character detail that I feel most obligated to explain and defend him against, because yeah - the legendarium really has nothing good to say about Saeros.

Here's the passage from Children of Húrin (emphases mine):

[Saeros] was proud, dealing haughtily with those whom he deemed of lesser state and worth than himself. He became a friend of Daeron the minstrel, for he also was skilled in song; and he had no love for Men, and least of all for any kinsman of Beren One-hand. 'Is it not strange,' said he, 'that this land should be opened to yet another of this unhappy race? Did not the other do harm enough in Doriath?'

From Chapter V, 'Túrin in Doriath'

That semicolon is doing a lot of work ('.. was skilled in song; and he...') Tolkien loved using semicolons to connect clauses that have a causal relationship. The Silmarillion text has dozens if not hundreds of examples.

So - Saeros hated Men. One reason: he had been friends with a guy whose life was rather negatively impacted by a Man (Beren) -- Daeron made his own choices, of course, but that's not what we're talking about right now. Saeros is not necessarily right to make the connection, but the implication is that he blamed Beren for the loss of his friend.

[If you're not yet persuaded but want to be, I ramble some more below the cut...]

I am quite convinced that that is why Tolkien introduces this odd detail to Saeros' biography. Not because he wanted to disparage the character of Daeron (and I could talk another time about how Tolkien's narratives about Daeron really aren't aimed at making us dislike him), but because he is giving Saeros a motive as part of his backstory.

This reading is reinforced in the 'Narn' text published in Unfinished Tales from which (among other things) Christopher Tolkien put together CoH. In this, we also get the point about Saeros being one of the Nandor (Green-elves) who were known for being the 'unfriends' of Men. So that's two reasons that Saeros is prejudiced against Túrin (again, not saying they are good reasons, but they are reasons).

Now, being friends with Saeros might not say much for Daeron's ability to judge character (aside: the quote makes clear that the reason for their friendship was their 'skill in song' - I think we've all been 'friends' with someone because of a common interest without necessarily admiring everything about them). It's obvious that Saeros has a lot of people deceived about his personality, including Mablung and Thingol (Mablung -- whom I think we can agree is an upstanding guy -- despite witnessing Saeros' provocation of Túrin at the dinner table, still gives him the benefit of the doubt up until Nellas' testimony). I don't think we should be hating on Daeron just because he happened to be friends with a guy who did some really awful stuff over two decades after Daeron disappeared from Doriath.

And yeah, Daeron was absolutely not there at the time of these events. He was gone. Daeron, who had been a friend of Saeros, had no opinion on Túrin because he wasn't there. And he had no confirmed opinion on Men as a group, either. (Did he like Beren? Ah, hard no based on the canon evidence - though Tolkien was making alterations to Lay of Leithian to make Daeron less hostile towards Beren ... but I digress once again).

Okay, but if Daeron is not there, some may ask, who is Saeros talking to? The dialogue ('Is it not strange...' etc) has no obvious interlocutor. As with the 'causal semicolon', there are also many examples in Tolkien's writings of this kind of direct quotation that isn't meant to be taken as literal dialogue, but is rather summarising a sentiment held by a person or group of people (if anyone wants examples of this or the causal semicolons, I'll dig them up, but that would make this post even longer and duller).

#daeron #saeros #meta

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tickledpink31 · 1 year

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I don’t know why but ever since you’ve described Marisol’s personality I keep imagining her doing things captain holt would do in b99. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0zJLltYWtNA&pp=ygUXY2FwdGFpbiBob2x0IGxpdHRsZSBraWQ%3D

youtube

Example 1!-

Wukong: Drumroll please.

Mari: (slow tapping)

Wukong: that’s your drumroll?

Mari: when a tempo isn’t specified, any reasonable person would default to lento.

Example 2!

Mari: Pay no attention to him, Sanzang. He’s very emotional, Sanzang.

Sanzang: why are you saying my first name?

Mari: Well, Sanzang, I remembered reading an article in a medical journal that said one destabilizing aspect of incarceration is the constant dehumanization, Sanzang. You need to be reminded that you are more than just a number, Sanzang. You are Sanzang… Sanzang.

Sanzang: Yep, that fixes imprisonment.

Example 3!

Mari: feel free to consult the script I’ve prepared.

Bajie: okay but it’s a little stilted. “I am feeling trepidation at the prospect of a parentless existence.”? No kid talks like that.

Mari: those lines were lifted, verbatim, from my girlhood diary.

Example 4!

Mari: Does anyone have a few words they would like to say?

Wukong: wup, no one say anything, I want her to say stuff. Speech for wukong (whisper). Speech for wukong, go!

Mari: very well. Your absence was noted.

Wukong: Yes.

Mari: Drinks are on me, there’s a two drink maximum per person.

Wukong: here she goes.

Mari: it is non transferable. Your guests will pay their own tab

Wukong: oh yeah.

Mari: Valet parking is not included.

Wukong: Solid protocol.

Mari: tomorrow’s briefing will be 15 minutes earlier than usual.

Wukong: Wonderful, she’s so bad ass.

Mari: And I’m very proud of you Sun Wukong. We missed you.

Wukong: Aw, you ruined it☺️.

---

No, but this is actually Mari though! I didn't expect that comparison.

She says things in the most deadpan tone, hard to read, speaks formally, terrible at comforting people even though she wants to better at it. The diary and the drumroll bits screams Mari.

I see Mari as a pragmatic type of person. Maybe it makes her a bit emotionally detached and sometimes literal-minded, but she's mature. This is why she wasn't as scared or hurt when Wukong came to beat the shit out of LBD while she was still being used as a vessel. She understands that Wukong has to finish the job or the world is doomed.

Angst aside, this is hilarious. I can just see her, in the most monotonous tone, saying, "I went to Barbados with Wukong for our honeymoon. We wove hats out of palm fronds and swam with the stingrays. I've never been happier." Then she has conversations with her mom like Rosa and Holt do.

Some other things I think she would say:

Mari/Xiaodie holding her 10-foot caterpillar plushie and one of Wukong's baby monkeys: You have disappointed all three of us.

Mari/Xiaodie snapping at Bajie: GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER OR SO HELP ME GOD YOU WON'T LIVE TO SEE THE END OF THE JOURNEY!

Mari/Xiaodie to Sanzang after saving him, monotonous as ever: Ouch. You landed on my ribs. I am in... incredible pain.

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nickyroethemarinebiologist · 3 months

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Hoorayy chapter five!!!!! Just about a third of the way through now, which is easily further than I have ever made it through writing before. I will admit I am not terribly proud of this one. However it is here, and so I will share it, and hope you might like it a little more than I do :)

Chapter V

The covert in Plymouth laid high upon the stony beaches of England’s south coast, looking out on the channel; a fellow standing atop the very edges of the cliffs might endeavour to see the beginnings of the Atlantic, where the grey waters familiar to England joined the rolling, deep blue swells of the ocean, mighty and furious in all her billowing prowess.

The cliffs were somewhat slanted and crumbling with recent rockslides, and topped with rolling pastures of thick, clumping masses of peat, brown against the green; these served in some part to conceal the beginnings of the covert, some ways lower inland, where the battlements were nigh invisible from such a way upwards. A dragon and his handler might miss it completely if he neglected to search the hills afoot; Linsey did have to admit, in circling curiously upon Timor’s back, it was an impressive means of deception; he might have missed it wholly himself if Franklin had not ensured to guide him.

The covert itself was somewhat sprawling, and rather crude in nature, built up within and around the remains of an old stone fortification and comprising largely of thick canvas tents. These were scattered about in a disorderly manner, and what with their differing sizes, and the few about the outskirts which edged upon the fringes of the cliffs, it presented a rather meandering appearance; Linsey likened it to the sprawl of the old port towns he frequented in sailing, far off on the coasts of the Caribbean.

He ignored the immediate weight that settled in his breast—such endeavours were painfully impassable now—and turned to heed Franklin’s call; the aviator had dipped below Timor, who was somewhat distracted in sweeping about the cliffs, and now signalled curiously; Timor swept down and craned his head inquisitively over the grounds, and after a brief perplexity Linsey found what he was indicating: a wide berth towards the middle of the covert, partially walled on one side by a wood fence, largely fallen in and leaning dangerously. Sprawled on the stones was a young dragon of a pleasant pale colour, with a long, spined tail curled about and over itself; beside were two smaller breeds, compact and beaky, of scales in impressive shades of grey and black and crimson, and smoke curling about their nostrils in sleep.

Franklin directed them to land in this courtyard, which was not so much a courtyard but a rather wide clearing, with the remnants of large cobbles protruding in clusters about the soil. Timor nosed at these curiously and sniffed the air, then shook out his head in displeasure; the spines upon his neck clattered, and Linsey was made to brace in the harness, jostled somewhat by the motion.

Linsey dismounted and stood aside in watching the proceedings of the covert, unable to keep from glancing curiously about at the sleeping dragons, and the couriers sweeping this way and that. He kept a hand upon Timor’s snout, to offer the dragon a small comfort as much as calm his own treacherous nerves; his heart fluttered in his breast, an uncomfortably familiar notion, like the first change in the air before an ocean storm.

‘Oh, what are those?’ said Timor; he had raised his head inquisitively, looking off to the side of the grounds. Linsey followed to a small flock of dragons which could be no bigger than his palm, wheeling about in great arcs over the cobbles. Occasionally they skirted too close to the sleeping dragons; the largest flicked its spiny tail and snorted loudly, and then all went away again, skipping to land momentarily upon the stones before sweeping upwards in a dark mass of little wings.

‘They are Slights, I believe.’ Linsey said. He watched the little dragons skip in flocks about the grounds, with hides flashing grey and brown in the lowering sunlight, rallying intermittently with the sparrows and shorebirds; he smiled a little in remembering a rather similar display above the pastures about his home in childhood.

‘You would be quite right. They are lovely creatures, rather, but wholly feral; there isn’t much use in taming a beast so small.’ Franklin had come upon them without notice; he smiled in watching the Slights, while Linsey fixed his expression in false apathy. ‘They fly up around the spring, we think it is our dragons; they must like the company.’

‘Do they have names?’ Timor asked, tilting his head in watching. ‘I think I might like to meet one.’

‘No, fellow, they cannot talk, unless I find myself mistaken,’ Franklin said kindly; he turned to Linsey and indicated one of the larger tents, a small ways inland. ‘Come, you might like to meet our commander; I assume he will be wanting to speak with you. Caritas will keep company with Timor, we’ll only be a short while.’

Linsey was not a little discomforted by this; already he was growing tired of his shepherding, and found himself dreading an introduction with the Fleet Commander, who no doubt held the Navy’s same reservation towards his piratical career. Still he nodded and allowed Franklin to lead; Timor reluctantly bid him farewell, then stretched out upon the stones and very deliberately turned his back to Caritas, who blinked large, curious eyes and nestled happily against Timor’s warm hide.

Linsey was directed through the sprawl to a large tent of thick green canvas; the entrance flaps were set half-open and glowing with quivering lantern light. ‘You mustn’t fret, he is a kind enough fellow,’ said Franklin, kindly; then he lifted the canvas and stepped inside.

The arrangement inside was much like a mess hall, rather than the grand study Linsey had anticipated, and disdained. Fellows were taking supper—great piles of steaming meat and potatoes—upon benches laid out in three rows, and sharing ample laughter between them; he noticed many wore their coats folded over their laps, or had discarded them entirely in favour of their simpler evening dress. All fell silent and turned in hearing them come in; Linsey paused at the entrance, feeling uncomfortably perceived.

The commander was at once obvious; he wore a coat of light blue wool, the standard for any aviator, but where their shoulders bore only bare fabric, his were adorned with golden epaulettes, similar in colour to the embroidery upon the collar, but rather more grand for dignity and prestige.

He rose from his seat to take Franklin’s offered hand; they shared brief respects in low voices, then the commander waved, and the watching fellows resumed their dinner and easy conversation. ‘Gentlemen,’ He said, coming over; his face was very unpleasant, and did not match his coat at all. ‘Admiral Chauncey told me you would be arriving; I am Commander Davis, I trust Captain Franklin has not disparaged my reputation?’

He stretched out a hand; it was clear he expected some show of respect, and Linsey disdained to give him one; he paused in considering the gesture, then very deliberately clasped his hands behind his back.

Davis marked this display of insolence with a raised brow; he looked to Franklin, who frowned in dismay and said, a little uncertainly, ‘Sir, this is Captain Linsey, he arrived on Timor.’

Davis nodded his recognition; he paused to inspect Linsey closely, frowning in apparent disdain. ‘The pirate,’ he said, with little of his polite friendliness prior. ‘I see your manners have not exceeded reputation.’

‘My manner is not any of your concern,’ Linsey said, neglecting to conceal his frown.

‘Hm. Well, you are a good deal older than most of our handlers, but you will do,’ Davis went on, ‘Your quarters have been set aside for you; Chauncey has kindly sent up an escort, he will accompany you about the grounds, I take it the admiral had little faith in your disposition to duty.’

Linsey was not a little dismayed to hear this proposal, which only served to diminish his already lowering mood; he found it required an effort to restrain his first response, and the second was hardly kinder, so he drew his lips to a thin line and stayed begrudgingly silent. The commander seemed to take this as consent, so nodded his satisfaction and said, ‘Very good; you may tell Timor I will need to see him flying—first light tomorrow, and we can fit him for harness. Gentlemen, that is all.’

He nodded politely to Franklin and dismissed them both, then turned abruptly on his heel, with hands clasped at his back, and resumed his supper, slipping easily into conversation with the fellows at his side.

They walked together back to the courtyard in silence, though Franklin did not seem spiteful, only puzzled by Linsey’s presumed distaste. Linsey was privately grateful for this moment of quiet, and set to wondering of the Delight, and the state of her crew; he had scarcely been a day without them, yet already he felt their absence keenly, and found it a struggle to repress an uncharitable resentment: if he were not Timor’s handler, he might have taken his liberty without reservation, and would be some long ways out upon the ocean now.

They came out to the courtyard and found Timor sprawled drowsing upon the cobbles, and any such sentiment vanished at once; Linsey woke him gently and laid his cheek against the warm hide, silently condemning himself for even entertaining the notion. Timor nuzzled back affectionately, rumbling his delight at Linsey’s safe return, which woke a sleeping Caritas; the little dragon blinked wide, sleepy eyes and yawned enormously, much to Franklin’s apparent amusement.

‘Well, Linsey, I suppose we will see you soon enough,’ he said, and smiled, reproval apparently forgotten; Caritas tottered over and chirruped in greeting him, to be patted affectionately in return, then Franklin knelt to adjust the straps of his harness, brow furrowing in a rather appealing expression of focus.

Linsey blinked at him, faintly puzzled. ‘You won’t be staying?’ he said, concealing his dismay; their journey together had not been pleasant, what with his dwelling unease, but he found himself reluctant to lose a familiar face.

‘No, no; we are not yet at liberty, I’m afraid,’ Franklin said; his smile bordered upon a grimace of mock displeasure. He unhooked the clasp of a rather large leather satchel fastened to the side of Caritas’s harness, then loaded into it a small stack of parcels, folded over and tied neatly in twine. ‘I am due for Gibraltar before the dawn, and no doubt they will send us off again, if we make good time.’

‘You are flying through the night?’ Linsey said, frowning a little.

‘Of course; in fact I prefer it, it is far quieter, and dear little Caritas will have no trouble with the dark.’ Franklin said. He climbed back up and petted Caritas fondly, earning him a delighted chirping. ‘Fair seas, Captain, I trust you will be treated kindly,’ he said, and smiled, and with a great fluttering of wings they were a quickly diminishing figure in the dusking light.

‘Linsey, are you feeling well?’ Timor said, after a moment.

Linsey paused, and realised after a brief perplexity that he had been frowning. ‘Splendid,’ he said, patting the warm nose. ‘Perfectly splendid. I have only been thinking.’

Timor nosed his shoulder, somewhat anxiously. ‘Was the commander unpleasant?’

‘Oh, very. You will have to meet him; perhaps you might have a taste for beef after all.’ Linsey said, with some great amusement. Timor tilted his head uncertainly, apparently misunderstanding him; Linsey smiled fondly and patted his snout. ‘He would like to see you flying tomorrow, at dawn, you will meet him then.’

Timor sniffed disdainfully. ‘I do not think I want to,’ he said, with a low grumble, and laid his head upon both forelegs. Linsey laughed faintly and settled against the golden hide, drawing the coat more closely about himself; for the night air was somewhat cool, despite Timor’s familiar warmth.

‘Linsey,’ Timor said then, a little sheepishly. ‘I think I am hungry.’

‘Again?’ Linsey said, amused. He smiled and stroked Timor’s neck affectionately; Timor flicked his ears and rumbled in delight. ‘I am not so sure there will be much about, but I will certainly make a go of it.’ He paused to resettle the coat upon his shoulders: it had become somewhat rumpled in flying, and his curled position at Timor’s side. ‘Will you be well by yourself?’

Timor nuzzled him affectionately and hummed his gratitude. ‘I should think so,’ he said, ‘But please be quick.’

Linsey smiled; he nodded and patted his neck in farewell, then walked out to the grounds in search of fresh meat, or perhaps a pasture of cows.

Several of the smaller tents had been opened on one side during his walk with Franklin, with the canvas rolled up smartly and tied at the peak; now they were set loose with the coming of night, and the faint amber glow of lantern light brimmed beneath the coverings. Linsey assumed these must be personal quarters, for the carpenters—responsible for the assembly and maintenance of a dragon’s harness—and the flight crews; Franklin had indicated the separate quarters for the captains prior, a smaller cluster of tents arranged in round, much closer to the cliffs, where the dragons presumably slept.

A cluster of lanterns had been set out at rather sporadic intervals, lighting the entrances to each tent and presenting an image rather like a small port town at dusk; the likeness was familiar, and warmed Linsey somewhat. He passed several tents whose flaps were drawn open; the fellows inside glanced up curiously, marking his unfamiliar face, but made no introductions, which Linsey was privately grateful for.

After nearly half an hour of searching and yet still no earnings to his labour, Linsey paused in the middle of a small round of tents, feeling a rather profound sense of misery: he had caught little rest in their movements from the harbour, and felt now a great fatigue, and rather off-balanced by solid ground, for his legs were accustomed to the motions of a ship, and ached oddly in walking.

He felt some reluctance to return empty-handed, and a great disappointment also: for several months he had been living off salt beef and sea biscuits, then the stale remnants dredged up from his old coat; he quite fancied a fresh cut of mutton himself.

There was a dim light a small way upwards: a tent with the canvas lifted on one side, and a lantern set out upon a small wooden table at the front, offering a little warmth. A strong-looking fellow was set to folding cloths inside; he had a face quite round but not unpleasant, softened with stubble, and dark hair tied smartly into a short queue.

Linsey stood watching him for a moment, with hands clasped firmly behind his back, lest they begin to fidget in his unease. He was unsure if the man had heard him come up, or whether he was ignoring him deliberately; he cleared his throat loudly so that he might catch his attention.

‘Yes, yes; I have been told, and I’ll have it done, have some patience,’ said the man, without glancing up. ‘If you might leave me alone for a moment—’

He stopped abruptly and stared, presumably registering Linsey’s unfamiliar face; his brow furrowed minutely in confusion.

‘Oh.’ He said, frowning; his brow pushed deep lines into his forehead. ‘Lieutenant Peter Malcolm, presently unassigned. Do you need something?’

‘If you might direct me to your pastures, or wherever else I should find food enough for a dragon, and for myself, that will be enough. Quick as you like.’ Linsey said, a little coldly; there had been an irritable quality he did not like in the other man’s tone. ‘He will take fish, if you have it, which I assume you must, being so close to port.’

This last remark was made more for Timor’s sake than his own, though he enjoyed his own belligerence, and condemned himself for it. Timor had become rather particular with his food, after having eaten nothing but cod and seabass for nearly six weeks, and though he could not be impartial to alternatives, least not when he was so hungry, Linsey knew he would much rather take what was familiar to him, and found little reserve in pressing for such.

‘We do not.’ Malcolm said shortly. ‘We have lamb, or cattle; and for you there will be very little, with a manner like that.’

He turned his back before Linsey could reply, occupying himself in neatly folding a pair of breeches onto a small pile, apparently having dismissed himself. Linsey paused, faintly baffled; he could not be wholly sure whether this was a deliberate show of insolence, and so waited quite awkwardly outside, largely wishing he had stayed with Timor in the courtyard instead.

Then Malcolm paused abruptly; he turned to Linsey and said, ‘How long were you at sea?’

Linsey frowned, somewhat perplexed by this sudden change in temper. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘You are the pirate, are you not?’ Malcolm said, very sharply. ‘I am not a seaman, they puzzle me to no end, but I understand you will be wanting something fresh. Come, and quickly now.’ He discarded his flight dress, now folded, and brushed himself over momentarily, then waved a hand. ‘You certainly have some nerve coming up this close to dusk, mind. I shan’t be surprised if the cooks refuse to serve you; they have certainly done so before, pirate or not.’

What with Malcolm’s irritable tone and apparent lack of any restraint to effrontery, Linsey felt profoundly that he would easily rather starve until morning, if he might be freed from such unpleasant company. But he would not put Timor to such discomforts, and condemned the notion severely, so he put aside his reservations and begrudgingly allowed Malcolm to lead him out to the pastures, a little further downwards.

Malcolm picked out a rather scrawny sheep from the fields, and sent a young servant out to put it to slaughter. Then he brought out a fresh meal of mutton and roasted vegetables; this he loaded into Linsey’s arms, for which he was privately grateful for, and dragged the slaughtered sheep down to the courtyard himself, while Linsey picked at his meal in walking, feeling a great deal of his happiness restored.

Timor was waiting eagerly upon their return, with ears raised in delight and crest quivering; Malcolm flung the animal down before him and wiped his hands on a fresh cloth, grimacing in displeasure. He stood to the side while Timor feasted, keeping well clear of the mess and inspecting the dragon’s smooth hide, brow raised faintly in mild curiosity. Linsey ate quickly and loaded the remnants into Malcolm’s hands, without thanks or ceremony, as private revenge for his insolence prior; Malcolm frowned bitterly but stayed thankfully silent, and both men stood aside to watch as Timor lapped up the last of the meal and deftly licked his claws clean.

‘That was odd.’ Timor said; he sat back on his haunches and nosed curiously at the scraps of wool left strewn at his claws. ‘Are you sure there is no fish?’

‘Very sure, dear fellow, I am afraid.’ Linsey said, patting the warm nose fondly, and wiping the last leavings of blood from his harness. Timor rumbled gratefully, apparently quite satisfied; though he glared openly at Malcolm, dark pupils narrowed to slits, and nudged Linsey protectively closer against his breast.

Linsey grinned privately and petted him back into temper, faintly grateful for Timor’s seeming fondness over him; he was keenly aware of Malcolm’s presence close behind, and so gave Timor a final pat upon the neck, and turned to the lieutenant with his face set in rigid apathy.

‘Thank you, Lieutenant, that is all.’ He said, stiffly; it was a clear dismissal, and yet apparently not enough to send Malcolm off, for the lieutenant only frowned.

‘I had assumed you would need guiding to your quarters,’ he said, with a hint of belligerence; he seemed not hostile, only unendingly bitter, which Linsey considered a great slight to his repute. ‘You surely cannot hope to find them yourself, if you wandered far enough to seek me out at mine.’

‘I will make room enough here, and I won’t have you guiding me about, as though I am some miserable dog.’ Linsey said, his temper breaking loose; he glared at Malcolm savagely, and felt the colour coming into his face. ‘I am not bound by your laws nor your customs; you had better keep yourself civil, or by God I will hang you from the rigging, and you may go to the devil in my place.’

Malcolm blinked in momentary confusion; then he frowned and said, ‘If you insist, Captain, though I think you had better tend to your finery. I do not know how it is on your ship, but here in the Fleet there are certain standards you must attain, if you can manage it.’

It was now Linsey’s turn to fall silent; all the outrage went out of him at once, and he looked down at himself, faintly puzzled: his coat was somewhat rumpled, and the shirt perhaps a little too loose, but he did not feel as though he presented an undesirable image.

‘Your coat is creased,’ Malcolm said, noticing his confusion. ‘And an aviator is to keep his hair in tie; yours is loose. Perhaps you disdain to be called a dog, but I shan’t fault the fellow who made that mistake; it is not so easy to tell you apart.’

This last remark was made with little reservation, and perhaps a hint of amusement in the lieutenant’s expression; Linsey paused, put somewhat at odds by his open derision, for it was startlingly unfamiliar from the thinly veiled contempt he had received in his encounters with the Navy. He stared momentarily, feeling the angry colour rising again to his face, then was put to rest in his confusion, and said only, ‘If there are such issues with the men here, I have not seen them.’

‘No, and if I was of higher authority, I would tell them much the same.’ Malcolm said sharply, ‘It is all well going about in a mess, though you might at least have the experience to dignify it, of which you do not. If that is all, Captain?’ he added, in false courtesy, and so turned abruptly on his heel and left.

‘I do not think you look like a dog,’ said Timor afterwards, though of course he had never yet bore witness to such creatures, and was merely offering some small reassurance, which Linsey was quietly grateful for. He smiled without mirth or conviction, otherwise wholly occupied in thought, then went into the sea chest, which had been fastened to the front of Timor’s harness for their flight from Weymouth, and dug out the red silk scarf ordinarily worn beneath his hat; he took the adornments—two rings of gold, likely stolen, and a pleasant yellow stitching to match—in one hand, and tore a piece from the other end, with some difficulty. In the end Timor was made to tear it with a claw, and did so most carefully; Linsey laughed fondly at this small kindness and patted the smooth hide.

He took his hair into a short queue and tied it off with this strip, and spent a great deal of time afterwards pushing it into shape; for his hair was somewhat filthy, and matted with salt and sea air: it dealt well enough when set loose, but stiffened oddly in tie and would not sit comfortably, despite Linsey’s persistent coercion.

This unpleasant task completed, Linsey unhooked the sea chest from Timor’s harness and set it at his feet, rather dreading its awkward weight now that Grayson was not there to relieve him. He was most comfortable in sleeping at Timor’s side, feeling it his place, and so disdained to make use of his quarters, but he might at least take it as holdings for his effects.

There were two smaller dragons curled about each other on the further side of the courtyard; they had raised their head curiously in hearing his dispute with Malcolm, but now closed their eyes, and twitched faintly at the wings and tail in sleep. Linsey paused in watching them, marvelling quietly at their apparent placidity, and wishing impractically that he might have such quietude for himself, and for Timor.

‘Fellow, are you comfortable here?’ he said, turning to Timor.

Timor turned and looked down at him curiously, and Linsey said, ‘You might find a quiet spot out on the cliffs, if it suits you; I will meet you afterwards. I shan’t be long,’ he added afterwards, a quick reassurance.

Timor looked out over the cliffs, and the wide ocean far behind; his crest quivered along the curve of his neck, interest clearly caught. ‘Oh, yes please,’ he said; he nosed Linsey affectionately and went aloft, spiralling far out over the grounds with quick, sweeping wingbeats. Linsey stood watching him for a moment, feeling some quiet affection, and a great sadness also; then he righted himself and took up the sea chest, and walked out to the quarters set aside for his holdings.

With his things tucked away and covered loosely with old cloth, and the night quickly approaching, Linsey set out again across the covert, somewhat uncertainly; Timor was no longer visible overhead—presumably having landed further upwards on the cliffs, and likely already growing impatient—and in the coming dark he had some trouble picking his way through the meandering campgrounds. He found himself again in the courtyard and stood looking around, wholly at a loss, for the sleeping dragons had since departed, and he felt some great reluctance to seek directions from the other aviators, when the company prior had proved so disagreeable.

There was a shout and a great fluttering of wings overhead; Linsey turned in momentary confusion and watched as a large, trim-looking dragon landed across the courtyard: the same beast he had seen slumbering on his arrival. It had a rather long and narrow snout, like a heron’s beak, with teeth that poked a little from its mouth and small round eyes, yellow and shining in the low light. It was a long, supple thing, with a tail almost as long as the full length of its neck and body, and curling over and about the long, splayed talons as it settled itself upon the stones, humming delightfully.

It had, also, a set of spines running down the full length of its back and tail, and an impressive crest behind the head, which fanned twitchily when it glanced about; these were much the same as Timor’s, but a good deal longer, and largely laid flat or grew small and stubby around the end of the tail and in the natural space for a rider, just at the base of the neck.

The wings were rather impressive, long and wide, and tipped with black scales at the outermost edges, in some contrast to the blue and grey accents striped along the pale head; they stretched immensely, then furled quite neatly against its hide. It tucked its talons in beneath itself also, then sprawled the long tail out across the cobbles and laid its head turned back upon its flank.

The rider dismounted and petted its hide, very fondly, then turned and smiled to Linsey, something like surprise in the windswept expression. He was a little younger than Linsey, with brown hair plaited quite severely into a long queue, which gave him a rather sharper look than his softer face might have accounted for.

He came over and offered a hand, still smiling; he had a mild sort of expression, but a pleasant one, with kind brown eyes despite the lines beginning to form just beneath them.

‘Hullo,’ he said, hastily dropping the offered hand when he noted the furrow of displeasure in Linsey’s brow; the tone was not irritable but plainly confused, and strangely high, for a man of his age. ‘Have you just arrived? I take it you have not been given the rounds, if you’ll forgive me for saying so; you look lost.’

‘I am perfectly alright,’ Linsey said, a little sharply, in an attempt to escape any further introduction. He cast a glance across the courtyard; the grey dragon had one eye open in watching, and yawned enormously, showing off the long, serrated rows of teeth.

The captain blinked at him. ‘Oh! Well then, that is certainly favourable. Captain Mary Elliot, at yours.’ She said, gesturing to herself and smiling, pleasantly.

Linsey stared; she was wearing the standard aviator dress, with the usual shirts and breeches, and a neckcloth tied smartly almost up to her chin; her coat, well-kept, bore the gold trimmings of a captain, though Linsey had to look twice to be certain. With her hair pulled back so tightly she did look laddish, along with the clothes clearly tailored for another fellow and then adjusted hastily to fit; his mistake had not been unnatural.

Her presence there at all baffled him, more so than the startling appearance of her male dress and captain’s coat; he would not have a woman aboard his ship, the men would likely throw fits and fall into disarray, for it was well-known among sailors and pirates alike that such a presence would certainly bring foul fortune to their vessels; the notion sickened Linsey somewhat, and he found himself frowning a little. He could not imagine why the Fleet would put a woman to charge of such an impressive beast—or any beast at all. Perhaps, he reasoned silently, the aviators were not so tied to the stiff formality of their fellows in the Navy after all; or perhaps this captain had found herself in rather similar circumstances to he and Timor, and only happened upon her dragon, and the resulting duty, by chance.

‘Are you looking for the captains’ round?’ Elliot said, with a little less warmth; evidently she had noticed Linsey’s agitation, and was seemingly disheartened by it. ‘I am just going; we might fly you over, if you are having trouble, dear Fancy will manage.’

Linsey had halted in astonishment; now he fell back automatically on rebuke, and condemned her rather more harshly than he meant to; he snapped, ‘No, I am a pirate, not a fool; I am damned sure I can find my way about.’

‘A pirate? How strange.’ Elliot said, with brow furrowed somewhat; she paused to inspect Linsey more closely, perhaps marking the matting of his hair, and his work-roughened skin. Linsey passed a hand over his face subconsciously, feeling awkwardly perceived, in a rather more uncomfortable way than he had at the mess hall; he felt the stubble upon his jaw, and the faint filth dusting his cheeks, and realised he must be presenting a rather rotten image—not so much a slight to himself, for there were men in his crew who faired far worse, in face and tidiness both, but wholly out of place in the trim dress of an aviator.

‘No; certainly not so strange as your being here,’ Linsey said scornfully, less of the captain herself—for though she perplexed him to no end, she was polite as a lady, and kind enough—but more so for his own wretched predicament, and the constant woes it seemed to bring him. He felt his composure slipping gradually, and tired only more at every turn of company, used to the familiarity of his crew, and the wide ocean all around; but he could not press his anger upon Timor, a dishonourable notion which he condemned severely, so turned it elsewhere; he glared severely now at Elliot and spat, ‘There is poor fortune in your like upon the sea; you’ll have my respect, perhaps, but do not fault me for my habits, when your own are hardly desirable. Out, Captain, I want no help from a wench.’

Elliot blinked in confusion; then her brow furrowed, and she pressed her lips together into a thin, unhappy line.

‘Well then; we may see you about,’ she said, though she sounded perhaps a little restrained; the warmth in her expression had all but vanished, to be replaced with plain affliction. ‘Take care, Captain.’

With this she left; Linsey watched her climb back up into harness, then her dragon shook out its wings and went aloft, and both vanished quickly in great, sweeping wingbeats across the sky.

It was easy enough to find Timor, after a great deal of looking this way and that, and the first settings of shivers in his hands; he was grateful for his coat, what with the wind sweeping across the cliffs, and for his neckcloth also, tucked up around his chin, though the sensation of his dress folded about him so closely was still rather difficult to ignore.

Timor was curled about himself in a quiet spot a little ways out from the covert, with clumps of peat and brushwood growing all around, offering a little shelter from the cold winds blowing in from the sea. He raised his head in hearing Linsey approach, flicking his small ears impatiently; the golden hide stood out a little in the dark, and his great eyes were shining watchfully.

He lifted a wing in welcome, tucking Linsey close against his side; Linsey had taken a blanket from his quarters, and was comfortable as he could wish, curled against the warm hide.

‘Timor,’ Linsey said, hoping to ease some of his own unease; Timor heard the restraint in his voice and turned his head around to nuzzle him anxiously. Linsey smiled a little and stroked the warm nose, feeling again wholly grateful for the dragon’s presence there.

‘Is something wrong?’ Timor said softly, with marked worry in the amber gaze.

Linsey blinked at him, surprised by this quick perception, then smiled stiffly and said, ‘No, Timor, only I am beginning to lose faith in our company.’

‘Oh.’ Timor said, ‘I had wondered why you were gone so long. I would have come and found you, if I had known.’

He said this very sensibly, and Linsey felt his smile relax at once to an expression of fond amusement. ‘Thank you, dear fellow,’ he said, patting Timor’s side, ‘Though an escort is already along the way; I think I will manage well enough without you herding me about as well.’

Timor rumbled in something like delight; he was silent for another moment, then he said, more quietly, ‘Was it that foul man again?’

‘Malcolm? No.’ Linsey said, ‘No, it was another captain, though not like you would expect.’ He paused in remembering Elliot’s expression falling to dismay, feeling faintly shameful, and added only, ‘I am afraid I have been untoward.’

Timor paused to consider this, humming a little in thought. ‘They have been unkind to you.’ He said, a little uncertainly, and perhaps with the beginnings of a growl beneath his voice. ‘They have stolen us away, and put us to work here; surely they cannot expect you to be kind?’

‘No, not at all,’ Linsey said, nodding, though he was surprised to find he felt a little uncertain in his agreement. ‘Though it was not the Fleet who sent us here, and I suppose this, er, captain was not so deserving of it.’

Timor sniffed. ‘Then he can leave us alone, and let me eat the rest of them.’ He said. His eyes glimmered eagerly; Linsey laughed, with surprising ease, and patted his side.

‘And I would be very grateful for it.’ He said, and meant it wholly, for he had not before been recipient to such devotion, save perhaps from his crew, who he knew would put themselves to battle a dozen times over for him, just as he would do for them in turn.

He smiled sadly at this notion, and laid his cheek against Timor’s warm hide, trying to ignore the misery setting himself sombre.

Timor yawned enormously and made a small rumble, in such a way that reminded Linsey sharply of old Estella, the ship’s cat. He paused to scratch at a spot just behind his shoulder, where the leather straps of the harness looped around buckles set firm against his scales. Linsey inspected these with displeasure, and some quiet shame also; Timor’s scales had hardened somewhat in his weeks of growth, but they were still flexible and soft, and Linsey worried suddenly that the harness might begin to cause him discomfort. He had removed it to wipe away the remnants of Timor's meals upon the Delight, but had not thought to consider his comfort besides, and condemned himself harshly in realising he had forgotten to put it off entirely since their departure from Weymouth.

‘Timor,’ he said now, reaching up to stroke the dragon’s nose, a little anxiously. ‘I am very sorry, I had not thought to take off your harness; is it not uncomfortable?’

Timor paused thoughtfully, then he said, ‘It does not chafe.’

‘No, dear fellow, but you may have it off, if you’d prefer.’ Linsey said firmly, to be sure Timor would understand; to ignore a dragon’s discomfort until it bordered on injury was a sour notion, and it worried him somewhat that Timor might think him of such cowardice.

‘Oh,’ said Timor, brightening a little. ‘Yes, that would be nice.’

Removing the harness in the dark was a good deal more difficult than Linsey would have liked, but he was not going to refuse Timor now, and so worked slowly at the buckles mostly blind, fumbling at the straps with hands trembling somewhat in rising frustration, until finally the harness came loose; he flung it down beside, then climbed from Timor’s back and patted the smooth hide.

Timor stretched enormously, then shook out his wings and tail; the spines upon his back quivered with the motion. ‘Oh, that is much better,’ he said, with a delighted rumble, and pushed his head gratefully against Linsey’s palm. Linsey patted him in turn, smiling fondly, though his hands now ached somewhat; he shook them out and tapped the fingers of one against the palm of the other, then righted himself and folded them into his lap, resettling beside Timor, and feeling a great deal of his satisfaction restored.

‘Linsey, will you sing to me?’ Timor said then, his eyes shining.

Linsey smiled at his enthusiasm, but found himself somewhat reluctant; his easy indulgence prior had come about with the shielding of his ship, and of Richards’s presence near at the mast. ‘No, dear fellow, I do not think I can,’ he said regretfully, and stroked Timor’s side in quiet apology.

Timor drooped a little, his shoulders hunched in sulking, then he stopped and rumbled thoughtfully, small ears twitching. ‘Then you might tell me a story,’ he said, ‘If you like.’

Linsey looked up at him, faintly surprised. ‘Of course,’ he said. He thought for a moment, remembering with amusement his excursions upon the sea as a younger man, some several years before he became captain of his own vessel; then he smiled involuntarily and said, ‘You have heard of Edward England?’

‘No,’ said Timor, puzzled. ‘Was he English?’

Linsey patted his side, fondly. ‘Oh, fortunately not.’ He said, ‘No; he was my mate, we shared all holdings—gold and company both. I took it all when he passed.’

‘Oh.’ Said Timor, somewhat disheartened; evidently his interest had been caught. ‘He is dead?’

‘‘Fraid so, though he was a good pirate, and a fellow enough.’ Linsey said, ‘You might have liked him; he was a fisherman, once.’

‘Oh, that is nice,’ Timor said, wistfully; Linsey laughed and patted him heartily upon the neck.

‘We met in Tortuga; I happened upon him by fortune, and thought him a good fellow—foolishly, I suppose. I told him of the frigate I had seen on coming in—the Royal James,’ he said, ‘I had the wildest notion of making off with her. It was his ship, of course, and he flogged me for it, rightly so,’ and as he continued, Timor put his head down on his forelegs and unfurled one wing to shelter them, making grateful, quiet rumblings as he listened in the dark.

#edward england was a Real Guy btw #I LOVE historical cameos I couldn't help it #hoping ya'll like Elliot also!! She's my best friend she's my one and only she's got so much love to give #timor: here be dragons #guess we're tagging it now #enjoy <3

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