#ships and sea songs in general

[merakiui]

タコの花嫁。

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.

If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.

And your ancestors intended to claim it.

Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.

“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”

“You ever go and spy one up close?”

“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”

“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”

“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”

Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”

Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.

On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.

It was different in the sea.

Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.

On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.

“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”

No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.

A day of life, not death.

It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.

Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.

So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.

“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 

“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”

“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”

“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”

“Fin got it on his first try.”

“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”

Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”

“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”

“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.

And then—

Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”

The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.

It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.

“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.

Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.

“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”

“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.

“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“We didn’t, right?”

“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”

“Father’s gonna kill us.”

“If not us, the monsters.”

Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.

Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.

“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”

She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”

Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”

Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”

“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”

Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”

“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”

“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”

You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”

“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”

“Floyd.”

At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.

“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”

“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.

Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.

“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”

“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”

“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”

The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”

“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”

She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”

To that, no one could offer a smart reply.

“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”

“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”

“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.

Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”

“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”

“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”

Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”

“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”

“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.

“Let the grown-ups talk.”

Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”

Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”

Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.

You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.

“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”

Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.

“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”

Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”

“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”

Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”

Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”

It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.

Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”

Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”

Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”

“Because you tried to kill her.”

“Because she was in our territory!”

Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”

“He’s right, Floyd.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”

Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.

Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.

“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”

The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”

You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”

“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”

You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”

His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.

You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.

“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”

But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.

Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.

It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.

Floyd was right. You are a brat.

And yet he can’t hate you.

On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.

Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.

“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”

He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.

“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.

More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.

Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.

“Happy birthday…”

“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”

Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.

“I want to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”

You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.

“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”

Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”

You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”

I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.

“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”

“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”

“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”

“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”

“I’m not!”

You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.

“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”

“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”

With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.

“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.

Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.

He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.

Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.

Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.

This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.

Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.

“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”

By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.

The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.

It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.

You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.

You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…

Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?

Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.

Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.

You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.

Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?

And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.

“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”

Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”

“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”

Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”

“What’d Azul ever do to you?”

You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.

“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”

“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”

“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”

You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.

This is it. You’re dead.

…or not.

The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.

“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”

“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”

Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”

You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.

It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.

Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”

You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.

When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.

The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.

It’s a nightmare lived in real time.

Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.

Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?

Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.

“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”

“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”

“That was before the union.”

“I’m not letting it go.”

“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”

You don’t believe him.

“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”

You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”

“Legally, you are.”

“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”

Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”

“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”

Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.

“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”

A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.

“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”

“I love you.”

You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.

“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”

“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”

“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”

“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”

It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.

“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”

“N-No… Please stop. Please.”

“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”

Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.

The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.

“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”

Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”

Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”

A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.

“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”

You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.

Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”

“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”

“What a silly demand.”

He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”

“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”

You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.

He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.

You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.

“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 

But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.

In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.

“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”

Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”

Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.

The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.

“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”

Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”

Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.

He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.

You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”

“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”

He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.

“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”

Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.

“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.

It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: oviposition

[steveshairychest]

It's mermay so I'm having so many thoughts about siren Eddie trying to lure captain Steve off his ship, but he doesn't realise that Steve is deaf.

Steve knows about Eddie; he's had to stop quite a few of his men from jumping overboard to be with the beautiful siren. He spends so many days just leaning on the railing of his ship, gazing down at Eddie with a triumphant smile because he knows Eddie can't affect him, well, with his singing that is. He definitely affects Steve in other ways. Steve nearly toppled overboard just last week because he was too busy watching Eddie twirl a sword he no doubt stole while lounging on a rock, his gorgeous black tail glinting in the sun.

Eddie gives up trying to lure the captain into the sea after a month, but that doesn't mean he stops visiting the ship. He starts getting bolder. He throws stones in the captain's general direction to get his attention before proudly showing off the big fish he caught, only to get a confused sort of laugh from the man. He expected at least a clap or a thumbs up.

One morning, he spies the small boat that is usually hoisted up high on the side of the ship, in the water and he climbs inside, his tail too long so it hangs off the side while he waits. He nearly gives the captain and crew a heart attack when they finally pull it back up and find him lounging in the small boat with a rather large knife and lazy smile.

"I think you dropped this." Eddie grins at the captain, his sharp teeth causing several crew members to step back. He holds out the knife that he saw the man clumsily drop into his waters months ago. He is feeling generous. He'd normally keep treasures like that for himself.

"Thank you." Steve says with a soft smile. The warmth of his fingers shocks Eddie when he gently grabs the knife from his hand.

Eddie watches curiously as Steve turns to one of his crew mates, hands her the knife and then starts talking with his hands, well, that's what Eddie assumes is happening because the girl nods in understanding and rushes off to do whatever the captain said. He turns back to Eddie with a bright smile but Eddie can't stop staring at his hands. What was that?

"My name is Steve. What's your name?" Steve says the words out loud and with his hands, it both confuses and intrigues Eddie.

"Teach me that." He rushes out and points at Steve's hands, completely ignoring the captain's question.

Steve tilts his head in confusion, his brows furrowed and his eyes focused on Eddie's lips. His stare makes Eddie feel squirmy and he curls his lip to reveal sharp teeth to show Steve he doesn't like the attention. The captain doesn't get the memo and just stares harder.

"Talk slower. I can't hear you." He points to his ear and suddenly everything makes sense. Why Steve wasn’t affected by his song, why he didn't hear the crew screaming in the night when they were attacked last week. Eddie had almost been ready to climb aboard to wake the sleeping captain but the girl with the short hair had gone to fetch him just in time.

Eddie grabbed the edge of the small boat he was in and leaned closer to Steve, he was very aware that if the crew let go of the rope he'd go crashing back down to the sea but none of them moved. All their eyes watched the strange exchange between their captain and the siren that had been following them like a shadow.

"Teach me how to talk to you. I want to learn." And he does. Something about this human intrigues him. Why else would he follow him across the sea? If he were anyone else, Eddie would have slit his throat and dragged him down to the depths by now, but this captain is special.

He's decided that Steve will be his and his alone. Eddie always gets what he wants and what he wants is to learn Steve inside and out. Which includes learning this new language.

"OK, I'll teach you." Steve says with a nod.

Eddie smiles triumphantly, his sharp teeth on full display. "Great. Lessons start now." He looks pointedly at the space across from him in the small boat and Steve only hesitates for a moment before awkwardly climbing in.

"Tie it off and get back to work." He yells out to his crew without taking his eyes off Eddie, whose long tail is curled behind Steve. They sit in tense silence, Eddie's long nails tap tap tapping on the side of the boat before Steve sighs and says, "We'll start with the basics."

"Whatever you say, Captain."

The language is hard and Steve often laughs at Eddie when he angrily shakes his hands when he doesn't get the sign right.

But Eddie's determined to get it right because he's now one step closer to getting what he wants, and what he wants is Steve all to himself.

#MERMAY ANYONE ?!?!?! #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4 #i didn't proof read this soorry #hoh steve harrington #siren eddie munson

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (II)

AU MASTERLIST || PART III

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: Blood, abduction, violence, intense gore, death, swords & firearms, angst, hurt/comfort, nakedness, etc.

A/N: Guys, whatever you do, don't imagine Price in a white tunic holding Mermaid you in one arm and weilding a sword in the other. I'm frothing at the mouth.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You sit on your black rocks once more, the darkening sky warning of an oncoming storm that you can feel seeping into your bones. In your loose grip, you fiddle with John’s necklace. 

He’d given it to you only recently as a gift, seeing as you enjoyed the shininess of it so much, and you’d taken great pleasure in keeping it around your neck. Out of all of your treasures and trinkets, somehow these measly metal discs had become your favorite. The necklace is smooth under your caress, and you look down at it adoringly, eyes soft and lips curved with delicate affection. 

The cove, as always, was quiet above the call of seagulls and the lapping of waves; the whispering ripples from your tail as it sways under the water. You had gotten content with this—the silence. Because you knew it would be filled by the low gravel of an accented voice soon enough; would be swept away by the chuckles you could wring from beard-hidden lips. 

John was something to look forward to, and you loved the way he looked at you. 

Water hits the top of your head. 

Blinking out of your honeyed thoughts you look up to the crying sky as small slaps of droplets slide across your cheeks. Lashes flinch at every motion, and you glance back to the empty cove before lowering the necklace to your scaled lap. 

Confusion slithers in like an eel to your heart as your eyes slide over the growing waves. The yawning mouth of the entrance sits abandoned of any small fishing ship. 

For three, beautiful, sand-covered, months, John had never missed a day to come and see you. Rain or Sun.

A prick of a sharp fish's spine enters your brain. The rain comes down now in sheets. Lightning and thunder fight, and if you look close enough, the remnants of ancient lightning birds battle overhead with a flurry of black wings and their insatiable need for blood. Yet, still, your eyes stay frozen on the cove entrance as the water rises and rises. 

With a thinning of your lips and the violent pushing from the torrent as it swallows your rocks, you clench your hands over John’s necklace and push off your perch with a shove of your palms. 

Water encompasses you, scales dull, and fins limp as the general calmness from the encompassing water holds you in a constant sway. Your brows furrow.

Why wasn’t he here? You ask yourself, sinking among the seaweed and the schools of quick fish. Concern mingles with hurt. Do…do you think he’s alright? 

Human ways were still confusing to you, even if John had been helping you understand them and giving little clam-shells of information. But they seemed…like violent folk. Angry and selfish, from what John had said about their wars and squabbles. The thought of your fisherman potentially being in danger on land was terrifying to you. 

There wouldn’t be anything you could do if that happened.

Your fingers tighten around the strap of his necklace as you stare at the surface, back lightly hitting the bottom of the cove with a puff of sand. Crabs scatter as your tail twitches, your lungs sighing in their own special way. 

John can take care of himself, you reason. He’s just a little late is all. 

John’s never late. Your face creases, but you stuff the thought down, twisting on your side and bridging the piece of jewelry to your lip—kissing it once as sand digs into your skin. Holding the fisherman's property to your pounding heart, you close your eyes and wait as any lonely and loyal Merwoman would; tail held in close and the reverberations of a rabid downpour above you.

—

You wake up to the darkness of night. Blinking, you sigh to yourself and move a slow hand to rub at your eyes. After a moment of fatigued confusion as to why you weren’t in your cave, you realized why you had been out here in the first place.

John. 

Arms pushing you up, your mind fights to wake itself, laced with algae and fatigue. How long have you been asleep? Has the storm stopped? Surely you hadn’t slept the entire day away. You pull the fisherman's necklace over your head as you stare at the sand below you. No fish were slipping past besides one that brushes your tail, which you found odd, but didn’t think much of it. 

Shaking your head, you feel sluggish and put the necklace back on with a huff. You worry what John will think of you perhaps missing his late visit and smile slightly in humor. 

The fish brushes your tail again. 

Scales shimmering, you turn with an annoyed pull to your lips, fins scraping something hard and rough even as it’s saturated by the water of your cove. When you spot it, not only the rope but the shadow of the large hunting ship above you, your body drains of any life that had once lived in your lungs. It wasn’t nighttime. 

Eyes widening at the loop that was parading around your tail, you don’t have time to move before it tightens with a force that leaves your mouth opening in a bubbled scream; ruthlessly jerking your body along the seafloor. 

Desperately, your hands rip along the rocks and weeds of the bottom of the cove, getting torn and shredded in their soft nature as easily as paper. Your body smacks into every little object with a rattling to your bones that makes you sob. Red saturates the water as you’re manhandled in long and steady intervals back and up. 

No amount of rampaging your tail does can break the rope, and with a last-ditch effort as the sandy floor gets farther and farther away, you twist around and tear at the woven cord with sharp nails. Adrenaline pumps, pupils tiny and panicked. 

No! No, not like this! You can imagine the pain of it now—the hooks and the ripping of scales from your supple flesh. Even now the tiny ones under the dig of the vice are peeling away in long strings of red to disappear behind you as you’re thrust upward. They’re delicate, don’t these monsters understand? They’re beautiful and treasured and they’re destroying them!

You scream in pain at the pulling of your spine; a large creaking in your muscles. 

But as you gain a small sense of feral hope when the rope begins to fray from your grip, the iron net squashes any belief of surviving. 

It slams into you as John would cast his own for his prey—but this one is larger and full of cruel, curved, spikes. Is this what your parents endured? What the harpies had meant? The iron sinks far quicker than rope, and it traps you in a dome of hell before you can mutilate yourself out of the maw.

Oh, Gods, it was going to peel your skin away.

True fear pounded in your breast, and with a cry of John’s name from under the water, you watched with horror as the net descended onto you and your bloody wounds.

They drag you above waves and the first thing you do is thrash and wail so loud the seagulls shriek in surprise. There’s crimson staining the waters sloshing at you with combative ease, the violent storm from before now a light slapping at add to your fear. In the wake of open air, the curved spikes dig into your flesh as easily as a unicorn’s horn can penetrate a wyvern’s armor. Skin everywhere is assaulted and peeled to a tautness of bodily torture. 

Oh, and your precious tail. 

It hurt so badly, like nothing you had ever experienced before. 

“John!” You scream as your body strikes the side of the large ship, voice cutting out and leaving a bawling yell behind. Your form was being pulled by steady hoists and barked orders. 

All around you can hear laughing—joking. Loud exclamations of approval. 

You’re sure they’ve dislocated your tail right at the joint, how could they not have? The ream of their strong arms and ruthless greed. Oh, your tail, your precious, beautiful tail.

Long streams of salty tears fly down your dripping face; arms pushing the spikes away from your neck and face with futile action. The net and rope were your earthly graves. 

They slam you to the deck like a fish. 

Jerking and slapping around, your arms hit the wood with a bird-paced heart. The iron rattles and keeps you down like a weight. 

Brokenly gasping through loud cries, the sudden jeering faces from all around leave your fear all-consuming. 

They were ugly—broken teeth and sun-destroyed skin. Eyes that bugged and scars that could be from either a sword or a Strix’s claws. More than likely it was from meager squabbles with crewmates. But you balk back nonetheless, terrified and bleeding profusely. 

They were going to rip you to pieces. 

Inside your chest, your lungs are rising and falling quickly, and the hands that glide along your form make you want to burn your skin off. They grip at you, yanking you around as your hair gets caught in the gaps between the iron. With nail and tooth your bite and claw, but how many were there? Ten? Twenty? 

There’s uproar and more jokes as you fight back; body lifted and spikes torn out of skin as you arch your back and howl in agony. Their hands are not John’s. They don’t caress your smooth skin with reverence or holiness—this is cruelty. This is a sadistic pleasure. 

“Isn’t it our lucky day, Lads?!” A high and grating voice bellows out, and finally free of the net, all you can do is cry and flip your tail uselessly along the polished wood as they throw you down. Your vision blacks and slowly comes back—hair matted and skin slick with more than water.

It hurts to breathe too much. Whimpering, your cheek presses itself into the deck as footsteps take someone closer.

“Holy God, would ya look at that down there, eh? A true maiden of the sea,” A thunderous belt of achievement from everyone leaves you flinching, eyes tight shut to try and focus on anything but the excruciating way your skin throbs and gushes blood. “Though we’d have gotten all of them by now!” 

Haggard laughs and rotted smiles. 

A hand snaps to wrench your face upward, and you yowl and grasp at your head as your delicate strands go tight.

“Now who’s the little beauty we have here?” Whoever this man was, he had no standing on John. On your Fisherman. 

Loose skin and an age-rotted tunic, a belt at his waist holding a scabbard with a gold sword and twin pistols. He had only one eye—brown as a pile of mud—with a black eyepatch over the other. 

Your fluttering lashes took in a cracked-lipped grin of approval; whether at your battered appearance or the nature of your species, you knew not. But you didn’t like the way he was glancing at your tail as if it was made of gold one bit.

“Lords above, did ya have to be so brash, Lads?” Spittle slaps your face and you fight again with the hands in your locks to get away. The man’s hold jerks your face back and forth until you stop with bile building in your throat. “Wrecked her silky skin, you did!”

Being thrown back, your skull slams the deck before you hurl your guts in a sputtering of air and crimson. Many laugh and kick at your already broken scales. You grit your teeth and refuse to cry out.

“Get ‘er tied up and in the Hold for storage. If the scales are good enough, we’ll peel ‘em tomorrow.”

“Peel?!” Your face whips into a twisted glare, and pain leads to fast anger; wrath, even. The men grow gradually silent at your outburst and the leader comes to a slow stop—his back to you. “How dare you?” You gasp out, hands pushing your body slightly backward until the agony makes you stop with a lip-bitten whine. “How dare you do this to me? What have I done to you and your men? You’re nothing but senseless cowards who shy at something that lives its life differently! Am I only a pile of coin for you?!”

Your blood runs over the deck and seeps into the grain. Staining it with your memory and presence like a ghost that’s not yet dead. Loose scales shimmer and drip red. They were damaged and dull—your flesh was mangled. 

The leader turns back and smirks with blackened teeth. “More than a pile, Little Dearie. Far more. And if those hooks had been kinder, the King would have loved a beauty like you in his collection.” A look is slid down your body with a knowing chuckle.

He stalks off and you peel back your lips to say more, but a stained rag is shoved into your mouth instead, shutting up your rageful screeches and any hope of a peep of potent song despite not knowing these devils’ names.

By the time they chuck you in the Hold, body bouncing along the wood, and shut the hatch with a reverberation of wood, you had managed to rip someone’s ear clean off and break another’s arm; but there was only so much you could do. They had bound your hands behind you with a blow to your spine.

Curled up and longing for the sea, for John, you hold the only thing you have left. 

Silver discs on a chain, the metal smooth and the only thing now shining. You feel it hit your breastbone and sob as the headache of blood loss begins to set in. Laughter echoes from above your dark prison.

—

John saw the blood in the water before he saw the scales being pushed back and forth on the beach. Caught in that gentle push and pull now that the storm had ceased beyond a light drizzle—bright and reflecting the misty sun; far more vibrant than a fish or a sea serpent. But the blood. 

Christ, there was blood in the water. 

Blue eyes stare blankly at the sea-foam at the shoreline, red and bubbling, John’s pupils small and the lashes held back even as a salty breeze hits them with a burn. At his sides, his hands slowly close into fists. 

Jumping off the side of his ship, the man lands in thigh-deep water, gritting his teeth before he shoves his way to the sand and black rocks of land. He doesn’t know what drives his actions, or why he’s doing this, but with quick hands, he snatches up what scales he can find and keeps them in his palm; mind on fire. 

Anyone could see the fury in John’s gaze—a growing hatred for what was just beyond sight. When he has all he’s able to carry, he wades back through the water and gets himself back atop his boat easily with one hand. 

Walking quickly and soaked, he pushes aside a small cloth atop a barrel; seeing a gold box hidden under it. He opens it deftly, and while he puts the damaged and torn scales inside, John glances at the expensive and elegant twin cuff bracelets that sit in blue velvet. 

When he had been away buying them for you, he should have already been here. Wasted time.

I left her here alone. Knowing what could happen if I did. A growl bounces under his beard, face going red with anger. The two of you had quickly become enraptured with each other—drunk off flesh and touch like non-sentient animals. 

And something had taken place while he was away. You were gone, the fisherman knew. The water wasn’t as clear, the fish were terrified, and the blood alone proved this—the scales. This wasn’t an accident.

And it had something to do with that ship he’d seen on the horizon with his narrowed eyes not minutes prior. The Captain was slowly re-taking over the man.

“Fuck!” John curses, teeth bared as he spins and readies his sails. With violent pulls at the ropes, letting the mainsail shift down in a flurry of white sheets, he turns the vessel around in no time at all. It was as if Poseidon himself was pushing the ship forward to that small dot on the ocean line, far, far away. 

Deadly purpose bled into his heart, and the early afternoon sun forced him onward with hellfire following at his heels. He re-wraps his gift in the meantime, only taking a single scale from inside and putting it in a small pouch on his belt before walking to another barrel and pausing. This one was older, more sun-bleached. 

John deserted the service years ago, but not long enough to forget how the world of men can be. With a grunt on his thinned lips, the brunette rips the top off and grasps inside. 

With an experienced hand out came a sheathed Cutlass, the leather of the handle worn and indented to his very grip. It found a place on his belt, and John wasted no time in making the Flintlock pistol follow. 

A fisherman he may be, but in his blood John would always be a killer. He knew how to fight dirty and fight well—carve skin and not flinch at the sparks of gunpowder. There was no hesitation as to what he would do to get you back. 

In his chest, there was a weight of rage and concern as he glared at the far-off Hunter’s ship.

“What the hell have you done to her?” He growls, beard back and eyes narrowed. His hands clenched and unclenched with loathing. 

John’s thoughts go to the horror stories he’d heard about Merfolk and them getting caught in the open ocean, when he’d found you he had been surprised. He felt his heart beat faster when you were around, his blood would spike with love and affection. 

It was strange, unheard of, but he can’t stop it now that it’s happened. 

No one touched you with their cruel hands and lived. 

John didn’t like it, but he hung far enough away from the Hunter’s ship so that the cover of night hid him. Dark stars hung at his head, tunic blowing in the chilled breeze when the waves took him close enough—all was silent. Asleep. 

Lantern light slid along the waves, and with deft fingers, John anchored his ship with measured efficiency a small distance away. Looking over the side, the fisherman grunts under his breath and sets his shoulders. Without a single glance in hesitation, he slips silently off the deck into the water. 

Immediately, John kicks his legs and resurfaces with a puff from his nostrils, whipping his head to the side to dispel water. Making no sound, the man swims the distance between vessels, hearing the creak of the still and bulky form of the Hunter’s ship ten times his own sitting above him. 

“Fuckin’ bastards,” he grumbles to himself and thinks of your condition intensely. His heart hammers even in the clutches of the frigid waters. But beyond the insult, no other words needed to be spoken—the prior Captain was a man of action.

Violent Action.

John wades to the side of the wooden structure, the waves threatening to smash him tight into the hull and skin him against the barnacles, but he braces himself and grabs ahold of the knife at his belt, next to his cutlass. In his stupor to get to you quickly, he’d forgotten that his Flintlock would be completely useless now that it had been submerged in water. 

Grunting and trying to remain as quiet as possible, the man sets his blade into the side of the ship into the thin slits available. In his free hand, he takes up his cutlass and does the same. In a feat of impressive upper-body strength that leaves his muscles bunching and tensing—veins visible from the side of his neck—John huffs breaths as he climbs the ship one panel at a time. 

He groans and sends the blades back in at opposite intervals, the firm thunk-plunk, thunk-plunk, bouncing off the dark air as the moon shines bright. But no one awakens.

The Fisherman pulls himself up the side of the ship and swiftly ducts behind a pile of large crates on deck to gather himself, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“C’mon Sweetheart,” he mutters, “hold on just a little longer.” Duel wielding both weapons, narrowed eyes look across the open area—the stain of blood all along the wood. Glimmering in the low light catches John’s fiery gaze. 

Scales. Your scales. Littering the deck and scattered all over. 

If possible, the man becomes even more enraged, knuckles going white over his blades. The man stationed on deck was asleep across the way; leaning back and snoring. John locks eyes on him and hides back a vicious smirk. Quickly sneaking over and staying near the edge of the lantern’s lights, the ragged-looking man awakens to a blade at the base of his throat and a voice in his ear.

“The woman,” John speaks slowly and deeply, accent rolling out. The watchman tenses in his grip, but John grits his teeth and grits out, “Where the fuck is she?” 

“W-woman?” Usually, the brunette could paint himself a patient man, like a flag fluttering in a breeze waiting for the next bout of heavy winds without care or concern. But this was different. 

By God, if these pathetic fortune-seekers had hurt you even in the slightest bit…

John presses the blade harder to the man’s throat, thighs shifting in agitation, glaring at the far-off water beyond this stranger’s shoulder.

“The woman.” Blood falls down the blade edge, crimson. A tiny whimper. “The one that you stole away like an fucking animal.” 

“The fish?” The tone was incredulous but with a snarl the voice continues, whispering pitifully out in fear over the night’s silence. “She’s in the Hold! I swear it, Sir, on God’s green earth I do—”

John slits the man’s throat and takes his leave before the body drops, blood spraying into the air with a garbled cry.

—

You don’t sleep so much as you fall unconscious from the lack of blood. Inside your head, your brain is fuzzy and light—everything swirling like a jewel’s many faces reflected onto a wall. The rocking of the Hunter’s ship, while something you should be used and accustomed to, made you sick at times until only the watery bile that fell from your lips hit the wood. 

At some point, you’d given into the call of nothingness at the lack of seawater and the violent shivering of your shoulders. Your tail had gone completely numb. 

Everyone knew that Merfolk needed the sea to survive—you couldn’t live without feeling its loose arms around you for long periods, pulling you in and filling your airways. 

This was torture. 

But whoever was ripping up cloth at your limp side was muttering you back into the darkness of the Hold. 

“I’m right ‘ere, c’mon, Love. Open your bloody eyes.” Hands pressed to your face, tilting it and hissing before a thumb slid along the swollen skin of a cut. “I’ll rip them to pieces…mark my word. They’ll not live through this.” 

It sounded like…

Gripping at your binds and gag, both items slipped away right before the larger cuts on your body were suddenly packed with strips of rough material. Occasional whispers of words and curses wafted out. 

“...J-John?” Your voice is rough, shattered, but at the same time you manage to force open an eye. 

Tight blue eyes meet yours immediately, and his voice softens to a painful degree as he addresses you. “That’s it, atta girl. Just keep focusing on my voice, then, yeah? Come back to me, Sweetheart.” 

Tears well your ducts, lips quivering. 

John was curled over you and had ripped up the bottom of his tunic to make strips of bandages to try and stop the bleeding. He came for you, gruff voice and large frame, all.

“How are you—” Your voice breaks into body-shaking coughs, but that doesn't deter the man. He carefully puts a hand forward and tilts you into his arms; head resting on his chest. Your ears twitch to the sound of his heartbeat, loud and fast. You cling to it like a lifeline as those calluses graze your skin once more.

How was he here? 

“What have they fucking done?” John’s voice is dark and volatile, his hand stroking your matted hair. “What did they do?” 

He’s not so much asking you as he’s asking himself. You breathe in a wheeze, not noticing the crimson staining John’s clothes—none of it his or yours in the slightest. The other men on the ship weren’t the Fisherman’s priority, only you; always you. But whoever had been in his path had met the unfortunate end of being on the opposite side of his blade. 

When he’d found you like this….it was like his entire chest had fallen still. His eyes wide with horror and fear. 

John had never felt something that visceral before, except when you hadn’t been in your cove. 

“Oh, my Beauty.” Chapped lips press to your forehead, breathing you in as arms curl around you. “Let me bring you home.” 

You shake and cry silently into his neck, weak hands coming to grasp at his neck. 

“They’re going to take my tail.” 

“No,” John’s answer is immediate and firm, pulling you closer until you might slip into his skin. “No, they’re not doing a damn thing to you. I promise, Love, not a single person will ever touch you again, you hear?” 

You burrow into his neck, this fisherman’s flesh soft under your force. Hands keep you to him, and with another kiss on your cheek, they tighten and gently move you into the clutch of his arm. 

John looks down at you with great distress, eyes flickering over every sign of abuse and hurt. The men whose throats he’d slit in their sleep deserved to be awake and see the blade descending for their neck, he thought. 

“I’m going to lift you, Sweetheart, eh?” He grunts to push aside the hatred in his tone, not wanting to scare you. He gazes around the Hold and at the low ceiling—the insistent rocking from the waves just outside. 

You suck down greedy breaths and nod slightly, shaking in his arms. John’s eyes crease in sorrow but has no option but to continue; the both of you can’t be here when the remaining men wake or discover the bodies. 

Your Fisherman frowns but does what he’s able to both quickly and effectively lift you, your tail hanging limp and dripping blood from the fins. When you tense and whine, John shushes you quietly.

“Hush, now, it’s alright. It’ll all be over soon, I’ve got you. I’m taking you back home if it’s the last thing I damn-well do.” Your teeth grit with held-back pain, every movement was agony and to think made it worse. 

Home? Home wasn’t safe anymore. Like taking a knife to the heart, the thought makes the torment all the worse. 

John holds you in one arm, head under his ear and rubbing against his beard as his muscles strain to keep you right to him with his torn tunic and blood-freckled skin. In his free hand, he wields his Cutlass and exits the Hold slowly, eyes surveying the scene. 

The scores of bodies were only a fraction of the men of this ship—only one side of the crew’s quarters that ascended up to the deck. John knew the anatomy of a ship well, certainly one like this. 

His only question was why such an unsavory bunch was living on a King issued hunting vessel in perfect condition. Was the bastard hiring pirates for his extermination game?

“If I ever get my hands on him…” John shuts himself up as someone groans in their sleep from the far wall. 

He glares in the general direction and puts his body between yours and the straight direction that he walks—sword parallel to the ground and knife at his belt as a backup. Ready and wound for a fight. 

“You..you came for me?” You ask softly as John carries on, your blood leaving a crimson trail behind the two of you; your mind is loose to all except the way your Fisherman’s thumbs run circles in your rent scales, fingers gripping under your tail joint which aches and hurts. His bicep is curled at the small of your back. 

John carries you like you weigh nothing.

“‘Course,” the brunette's eyes slide to yours, true honesty and firmness behind his words. You flutter your lashes at the fatigue in your body and his feet speed up, speaking into your scalp and nuzzling his beard into you. “No one messes with my girl.” 

“I’m not a…girl, John,” you remind, softly.

The smirk on your head gives you strength, fear steadily draining like contaminated liquid.

“No,” he whispers, “no, not quite. You’re something far more lovely, aren’t you?”

Your heart swells, tears dripping down your cheeks once more before lips slide them away with brushes of a kiss. He carries you up the stairs quickly, sword at the ready. 

Lantern light makes you squint, hands tightening around John’s neck. 

He hums to you, a small melody that you can latch onto to help focus—it keeps your mind working as everything else falls away. John’s warm flesh and his lungs, the sound of his pulse. 

He came for you. No man would do that besides him—no specimen of any species. No one except John. 

Your Fisherman. 

You’re halfway to freedom, feeling the sea air on your flesh and longing for the depths of untouchable waves. You peek from John’s neck and blink delicately, what little scales still intact shimmering, and fins aching for water. 

“John,” he begins to pick up his pace, but still glances in attentive question. “I need to be in the water. I can’t go long without it.” You already felt a bit stronger by just being by the open sea. The man nods and you smile deeply, face twisted. You kiss his cheek deeply. “You have my thanks, Fisherman.” 

His tight expression gradually loosens with care and love. “Doubted me, then?”

“Perhaps only a little,” he kisses your lips, cheeky smiles peeling his beard. 

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, eh?” The man’s face is lit by lanterns, stars like a crown above his head that illuminate the small scars and the sheen of sweat like a portrait of a good man. 

Perhaps humans were truly more magical than you had been taught to believe, for no mortal man would do this for anybody. 

In the midst of him carrying you over to the edge of the ship, he’s only three feet from the drop when the familiar sound of a Flintlock hammer being clicked back hits his ears. You feel John lock up, and your eyebrows crease in confusion; not common to the model of metal and wood. 

Looking over his shoulder, you strangle down a raspy gasp.

“John—”

“I know, Love.” He whispers, turning slowly with his sword at his hip. The stranger with the eyepatch has his weapon leveled with the brunette’s chest. “Easy, let me handle it. Keep focusing on me.”

“A thief in the night!” The leader calls, and alarm from below deck start to rise in question at the noise. John grits his teeth and his stance widens. “Thought to make off with my prize, did ya? I’ve not seen you before on this ship.”

“Hell,” John grits out, loudly now that he’s caught. You burrow deeper into him and he shields you, voice hot with rage. “Save me the fuckin’ monologue. She isn’t yours—to own or bloody take.” 

As he speaks he points his cutlass in the leader’s general direction, holding it aloft with a strong and pale arm. The leader smirks, and soon the pound of rushing feet enter the deck—men holding weapons and clubs. You make a noise of tension and John tries to shift you farther into his grip even more. 

Your tail hangs and brushes the deck, gaining some feeling back to it gradually. 

The leader laughs. “What that creature is, Mate, is enough gold for a whole moon’s time in rum and pleasure.” His single eye falls on you as the crew gets closer, crowding in and yelling. 

John shuffles back and snarls like a boar, pointing his sword’s tip from one chest to another. 

“Keep your bastard eye off of ‘er, you prick. Find your score elsewhere. She’s coming with me.” So sure he sounds that you yourself believe it. Your chest swims with pride.  

The crew closes in, but jumping at this stage was dangerous. The ones with firearms could aim in the water before you both could get away and John didn’t know if you could swim still. Your fins were torn and tail flinching with damaged nerves.

Eyepatch barks a vile laugh, “...I think he loves the beast!” John’s body winds even farther and your eyes slip to the side of his red face. He grunts stiffly, hair damp. Everyone follows in their amusement, mocking the two of you. “I knew that necklace around her neck meant something.” Your body stills and you glance down at John’s gifted silver. Blue eyes flash to the same, but as if suddenly realizing the nakedness of your top surrounded by such brutes, your Fisherman pushes on the back of your spine to shove your chest into his own with a panicked look. You grunt in surprise, but let him. “No greedy Mermaid would bother with a trinket like that! A piece of rubbish metal. It means something to her—and I’ll bet that something is you, Thief.” 

Me, greedy? Your eyes narrowed into slits. If you knew his name, you’d sing his death song in an instant. Your Fisherman’s face goes stiff, knowing the predicament the two of you were in. There was no way he was giving you up. 

But himself…

Tiny lids narrow on the arrogant leader.

“Do you trust me?” John whispers to you, suddenly, as all sides were surrounded and the water just as dangerous as the deck. 

Face creasing, you say, confused and worried, “Of course.” 

“...Then forgive me.” 

He throws you from the side of the deck, and whirs to run his blade through the nearest man. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw22 #call of duty #mw2 #mw2 2022 #x female reader #call of duty mw2 #john price fic #john price #captain price #captain john price #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #john price x you #cod mwii #cod fanfic #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty modern warfare #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare x you #modern warfare x reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you

[fallenrocket]

Thinking about Ned Low, and thinking about "creative" killers in pop culture. The characters who need to torture or kill in increasingly inventive ways, who turn corpses or body parts into their "art." Thinking of various killers we see on Hannibal, Dexter, Sherlock, and I'm sure many more.

This is what Ned Low does, and it sucks. There's nothing truly creative or artful about him. His crew is bored and discontented as they go through the motions of his grand vision, and his big "symphony" is just his lame attempt to give purpose to a bunch of people screaming. He can sneer that Ed is a "lowborn" generic pirate (even though Ed "got it in one" re: his brother,) and he can call Stede an amateur, but his art is simply embarrassing.

What's more, it doesn't hold a candle to the wonder and beauty created by a ragtag group of misfits who made up a religion purely for the sake of having a big party. For Calypso's birthday, the crew invents traditions on the fly, everyone coming up with their own little twist on these timeless traditions that are only happening now for the very first time. They fill their ship with paper lanterns and pirate-themed bunting, and they fill the night with fireworks and dancing. Wee John serves drama with every brush stroke as Calypso the sea goddess holds court, while Izzy Hands sings a love song 200 years ahead of its time. Even Stede, the rube they tried to dupe into throwing this party, is fully aware of the con and doesn't care, because he's creating something too: he's turning poison into positivity.

This is art. Ned Low is just a sad, pretentious man grasping for importance.

#ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #it's about belonging to something #fallenrocket

[justporo]

Swashbuckling (Shipless)

Staeve and Astarion are captains of hostile pirate crews - one infamous and well feared, the other... rather chaotic but not any less passionate. When Staeve and his crew are in dire need of a new ship, he takes it upon himself to steal one and comes face to face with his nemesis Astarion once more. And no one can know that they not only have a history with crossing their swords - but also something more...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: I... listen... I hadn't planned to write a pirate AU this week, but here we are. I brought an idea up on @velnnas server and then dear Tange pushed me to go ahead and actually write it - so I sat down and wrote this in like eight hours. Some others from this wonderful community threw in some more points and inspo (e.g. the ship name Absolute). So, @velnna, this is once more for you, thank you for being such an inspiration with your wonderful character (and letting me drag him out to sea)! And thanks also to the wonderful community on discord!

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve (You, male reader) Warnings: some violence, some mutual pining, bit of past traume (if you squint) Wordcount: 5,5k

Song: Jack Sparrow - Klaus Badelt

~~~

Your crew really had need for a new ship. Not only had the old one gotten way too small for your thankfully ever growing group - but it also stank, was just generally old - oh, and it had sunk recently.

Luckily, you had been very close to the biggest port on the coast when that had happened. And somehow all of you had made it the dinghy - even the crew’s loyal dog, Scratch.

Now you had nothing but the clothes on your back - which also kinda stank and were just generally really old: the floppy but comfy leather boots (albeit very wet), leather pants accessorised with multiple belts and the strip of red cloth tied firmly around your hips. And then of course your trusty sabre and dagger carelessly sheathed on some of those belts and your - as usual - wide open and very dirty linen shirt that always worked wonders whenever you were in trouble or just desperately bartering with someone. And it had at least guaranteed you a few nights in one of the taverns after you’d sufficiently charmed the barmaid - which, looking like a bunch of wet dogs, had really been a feat to be proud of.

Oh, and not to forget: you at least still had your ancient tricorne with you - how would anyone know you were a pirate without the proper headgear?

But that, unfortunately, was all you still had to your name. At least that hadn’t sunk with the ship too. It still pained you though that you couldn’t even rightfully call yourself a captain anymore.

But at least if you were shipless and in desperate need of a new vessel, being in a big port was the best thing to happen to you, right? You had a free pick out of everything anchored here.

Of course you had no money, but you were pirates after all. You wouldn’t have intended to pay for it even on a better day. Piracy must be good for something after all.

The last couple of days you and your crew had somehow pulled through while you had taken the time to reorganise and garner some information about the current ships anchoring here. Or to put it plainly: find a time, a place and a target to steal a ship and be on your merry way again.

And now finally, the time had come to set your plan in motion.

It was deep in the night, security at the port was rather light around this time - fools - and the moon was your only real witness as you snuck inconspicuously around the docks towards your target: the Absolute.

A smaller but fine ship. Of course nowhere comparable to the big, flamboyant navy or even other pirate’s ships. Not as excessively decorated with gold covered carvings or intricately crafted lanterns upon it and no dozens of canons to be manned.

But from what you had figured out your pick was to be quick, reliant and most of all: intact. And that already had made you more excited than you would have cared to admit.

You were alone now as you made your way along the final dock towards your target, your crew waiting somewhere outside the city already. And that might have sounded like a really bad idea - and maybe it was. But it was much easier to get away with stealing a ship if you were alone.

And that was yet another advantage of the Absolute: at that size it was fairly manageable alone, at least for a while. Of course your crew had protested, but you had been the reason they’d ended up sinking in the first place. So you felt it was your responsibility to get yourself and everyone else out of this and back on the open sea again. And of course your plan was reckless and stupid and there was a fair chance you’d be caught and thrown into a cell. But what else was new?

You found your target and immediately went to undo all the ropes holding it ashore. When only the anchor held the ship in place you found the spot closest to the net hanging down the side of the ship. You took a few steps back, as far as the dock would allow. You closed your eyes for a moment and lifted your head towards the sky.

This was probably going to end badly. But now you were deep into it anyway.

“Alright, Staeve, time to make a captain out of you again”, you muttered to yourself and then took a running leap to jump and grab hold of the net.

You crashed so hard against the side of the boat that you almost knocked yourself out, but at least you managed to grab hold of some rope. Strands of your long hair were suddenly falling into your face as your trusty tricorn almost fell off but you managed to grab it in time and push it down your head again.

You quickly climbed up and jumped over the railing as silently as possible. Light security didn’t mean there wasn’t any security at all. But it seemed you were in the clear, so you looked around what was supposed to be your new home for you and your crew.

Taking in everything on the deck you quickly found where you could hoist the anchor.

After having dealt with that the ship was already swaying much more on the light waves. You only had to set some sails and start steering it out of the port. This was a walk in the park!

Immediately a voice inside you screamed at you that that usually meant you were moments away from absolute disaster. But for now there was no disaster in sight, right?

With a lot more confidence now you swaggered over to the steering wheel, wanting to prepare your course before the opened sails would immediately drag the ship into another anchored vessel and make it crash. You had barely recovered from one sunken ship, you would not risk another.

You grabbed hold of the steering wheel from the back as it came into your reach, dragged and… nothing happened. You tried again - still nothing.

With a frown you walked around the big wooden wheel. Nothing looked wrong with it, so you grabbed two opposite ends once more and desperately tried to turn. The wheel wouldn’t budge an inch.

Just a tiny bit of panic started to rise within you. Your inner voice snapped at your sarcastically for dismissing it. Your plan couldn’t fail just because you were too weak to turn a godsdamned steering wheel, could it? Furrowing your brows you looked around the damned thing. And after a few long moments of staring at it in confusion and helplessness finally found a small brass contraption beneath it with a small keyhole that seemed to hold everything in place.

“You gotta be kidding me, they’re putting locks on these things now?”, you scream-whispered to yourself and dragged your hat over your face for a moment. “Piracy will die out if that is how things are developing.”

You really needed a good drink if you’d actually manage to pull this off. A big one too. Maybe several even. Hopefully they had stored some liquor somewhere on this thing.

But first you had to find the key

Taking a wild guess, you figured the captain’s cabin would be your best bet. So trying to regain some of your former confidence you turned around and took the few steps over to the dark wooden door that would lead you there.

You laid your hand on the door handle and just for a tiny moment hesitated. All in all, this was all still very easy; too easy almost for your liking. Your inner critic confirmed once more that things were probably about to go sideways.

But then you just shrugged and threw open the door. Expecting complete darkness inside, you were thrown off by the warm, golden light that greeted you. Candles and lanterns were lit throughout the room. Your brows immediately furrowed.

And much more than by the lights you were completely shocked by the man sitting there in the captain’s spot in front of the navigator’s desk in a tall chair turned towards the door. Legs clad in shiny black boots were lazily draped over one of the armrests. He was finely dressed in a red and gold satin doublet with intricate stitching and black leather pants. Of course a rapier was also dangling from his hip and the tip nearly touched the ground.

But he had not gone for a hat. In fact, he never had. It would only have ruined his perfect, luscious white curls as he had always insisted. And he didn’t need one in the first place to have anyone know that he was the most infamous, feared and most dangerous pirate captain on this part of the coast.

Instead as his final accessory he was wearing that smirk you knew and still remembered so damn well, one side of his mouth curled up arrogantly while his red eyes perpetually seemed to tease you. It was that smirk you kept dreaming about when you were honest with yourself. But it was also what you were loathing with a burning passion.

It had made you do things before. Things you were either not proud of or just outright tried to forget. And you couldn’t use that right now.

“Hello Staeve, my darling!”, the man said in a tone dripping with sinful promise and playful threat.

You had been expected.

“Astarion”, you simply managed while your hand immediately wandered towards your sheathed sabre.

Several big rings on Astarion’s long, elegant fingers clinked against the metal chalice as he drank from it. Probably red wine from what you knew about him.

He took his sweet time to respond to you, slowly and languidly letting one of his legs swing back and forth. Obviously, one of you was not in a big rush.

Meanwhile all you could do was stand there and let uneasiness rise up in you. Why was he here, obviously expecting you? And why did he have to sit like this? Bastard!

“Look what the cat dragged out of the sea”, Astarion drawled afterwards while he kept tapping his index against the goblet, causing a very annoying continuous clicking sound.

”By the gods, you look even worse than the last time I threw you to the sharks and left you to die”, Astarion continued with a smug grin on his perfect pale face and shifted around in his seat so he could lean his elbow on the armrest and put his face in his free hand.

You felt your temper rising. Your hand itched to just grab your dagger, throw it at him and wipe his arrogant grin off his face. Especially for making you remember all the times you had come across each other since you had parted ways.

Stuff like this had happened way too often since you had sworn yourself to never return to the bastard. But your paths had crossed again and again and it tended to always lead to intense encounters - one way or another.

And somehow you were always the one left with nothing but an aching heart, yearning for the past while the infamous captain left seemingly unscathed and unbothered.

But you also had other things to think about right now. You were still trying to steal a ship after all! And you had to figure out where this godsdamned key was.

So as you looked around the room searching, you opted to distract Astarion with some idle chatter. You knew that would always work. The flamboyant captain just loved to hear his own voice way too much (you loved it too but of course you would never admit that).

“And what are you doing here? I didn’t see the Crimson anchored anywhere here”, you asked him while your gaze jumped between different corners of the room and your nemesis. At least Astarion was way too focused on mocking you to notice that you were trying to find a way to get the needed key and then get rid of the unwanted passenger.

“Of course, the Crimson isn’t anchored here. We’re not all fools as big as you, Staeve!”, the pale captain spat back at you, obviously offended that you would even think him capable of such a thing.

You shrugged - he kinda had a point. But it still didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a moment when he would be the bigger fool after all.

“And don’t you have anything better to do than bug me, Astarion?”, you asked to keep him talking when a small golden glint drew your eye to a shelf behind the enormous desk. That must be it. Now you would only need to figure out the perfect moment to make a run for it.

Your eyes focused on Astarion again who was still very comfortably lounging on the big chair. He was currently lazily twisting around one of his ankles to draw circles into the air with one of his booted feet while he was gazing upon the nails of his free hand.

“Why, of course not, my love”, he replied and drew up one of his eyebrows as he looked back at you. “I was just in the area, when some of my crew picked up noise about a ragged bunch who seemed to be pirates trying to collect information about this neat little ship. And the descriptions they gave could really only fit one dirty pirate scum I know”, Astarion explained and lifted his legs from the armrest. The gaze of his unusual red eyes (obviously going perfectly with his doublet) was burning into yours as he got up slowly and sauntered towards you.

“So I bought this ship and simply waited with the laid out trap”, he said playfully and shrugged one of his shoulders, rolling it around, still slowly walking towards you with the feline grace you remembered well. He held the chalice with wine casually by its rim, dangling it next to his leg.

And as you took him in now in all his glory, you couldn’t help but be awestruck. He looked regal and dangerous - simply beautiful. But more than that you were smitten with memories of the past. Not only the last encounters you’ve had that had always been intense, but also from before that. When none of you had even dreamt of putting a captain before your name. Your throat closed up as you kept thinking about that; that and what you had once been for each other.

You desperately forced your thoughts back to the task at hand while the pale captain was sill stalking towards you. Although it was becoming very hard to concentrate the closer Astarion came.

“And you did all this to impress your ex-lover, yes?”, you spat when the other man had come so close that you were almost nose to nose. Gods be damned, he was even more beautiful and breathtaking up close than you remembered.

Several different urges were rising within you fighting for dominance. Your hand balled into a fist so hard, the knuckles were turning white as you tried to suppress all of them at once.

“Some people like big gestures”, Astarion muttered and let his head wander slightly from side to side while his gaze wandered from yours to your lips and back up again.

“Well, I’m not here for a date. I’m here to steal a ship”, you mustered sharply, still desperately trying to push down your conflicting emotions.

Astarion’s red eyes sparked, almost making your heart stutter right then and there.

“But unfortunately I am now in your way”, the captain replied teasingly, one white eyebrow flicking upwards. “What are you going to do about it, Staeve my love? Stab me with your sabre, eh?”, the pale elf teased while licking over his lips and cocking his head. A smug grin was playing on his lips then. His crimson gaze was boring into you, making you gulp.

You mirrored the sardonic smile: “Oh, you mean, like the last time?” You raised an eyebrow, mirroring him, and then quickly with one of your hands made sure that your shirt was still as widely opened as usual.

Astarion’s gaze jumped to your bare chest and you saw a muscle tick in his jaw. Good to know you weren’t the only one affected by this game.

But that was your moment. You pushed your elbow against the captain’s chest hard and made him stumble back with a yelp and then a hiss. The remaining wine spilled from the goblet Astarion had dropped. Some splashed onto you but it didn’t even matter anymore.

With a leap you jumped past the chair and onto the desk and started running across it, almost slipping on the maps and papers strewn across it and face-planting on the dark wood. Jumping off the desk again you were almost at the shelf and had already spotted the small brass key.

You were so desperate to get to the tiny golden thing in time that you nearly didn’t notice the glint of silver rushing towards you. Only in the last moment did you dodge under Astarion’s rapier. The captain had obviously regained his balance quickly and rushed around the side of the navigator’s desk to come after you. A quick glance towards him confirmed that he wasn’t pleased by you so rudely interrupting your flirt.

Meanwhile, dodging the weapon had forced you to drop to your knees and make the rest of the way in a painful slide over the wooden floor boards. You crashed into the shelf, making the key drop directly into your lap. Immediately you grabbed it and jumped up again while you quickly checked that your hat was still in place. And only then did you notice that the piece of furniture had started to tip, caused by you crashing into it.

Astarion was closing in on you again. So you picked the odds that seemed to be already in your favour and grabbed the leaning shelf to throw it down completely between you and your former lover.

And then you ran, drawing your sabre, just in case, while sprinting towards the still open door of the captain’s cabin. Rushing through you slammed the door shut behind you, hoping to gain a few more moments from it.

With the key clutched in your one hand and your weapon in the other you made it to the steering wheel and fumbled the tiny key into the seemingly even tinier keyhole. “You got to be kidding me”, you whisper-screamed once more. “Big ship, tiny key - who the fuck thought of this?”

But you managed to get in the key and heard a satisfying metallic clicking noise when you turned it around. But what you also heard was the door behind you opening and crashing against the wall forcefully when Astarion kicked it open.

You quickly got up, holding firmly onto your sabre while you grabbed one end of the steering wheel and with all your force - you spun it. Finally it worked! A short relieved sigh and a thanks to no god in particular left your lips.

You turned around - and were greeted by the finely dressed captain slashing at you with his rapier again. Your sabre was not lifted a moment too early when Astarion crashed into you and threw you back against the giant wooden wheel that at least had stopped turning. The crash had drained all air from your lungs and the wood was now painfully pressing into your back. You had lost your balance and were unfavourably forced to lean backwards while your boots were trying to find stable footing again.

Astarion’s rapier and your sabre were crossed above your head causing the metal to screech awfully while you were powering against each other. Astarion had thrown his other hand to your throat and was choking you while you tried to stop him from doing that with your own free hand. He was completely feral - probably as mad about you not playing along with his plans for the night as you throwing furniture onto him.

Not really the ideal reunion for former acquaintances, you had to agree. But the two of you had a history to perpetuate when it came to hurting each other in any kind of way possible. Today would be no different.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, your inner voice reminded you that it had indeed been right about the upcoming disaster. But you brushed it off, at least things stayed interesting this way. You were kind of in a rough spot at the moment.

Normally you’d easily be stronger than Astarion but he had taken you by surprise once more - bloody bastard. So the only thing you could do right now was trying to not get your head cut off or choked to death. And you were doing kind of miserably with both, but giving up wasn’t in your nature.

“If you wanted a romantic dinner you would have only needed to ask”, you croaked at Astarion whose face was contorted into a furious grimace. “Well that and at least an apology”, you continued, “maybe then I would have considered.”

Astarion’s red eyes widened shortly and then narrowed at you again. He squeezed your throat harder. The rings on his fingers added to your discomfort.

“You are an idiot, Staeve. You could have stayed with me, become my lover and my partner in crime. At least then you wouldn’t have to steal ships and run around in rags”, the captain hissed at you. His brows were furrowed firmly, causing a deep crease between them as he stared at you from under them. Astarion’s whole face was a snarl.

“What, and only be choked by you casually? Where’s the pleasure in that?”, you mustered despite the pale fingers still closing harder around your throat. The edges of your vision were starting to blacken and your head was beginning to feel woozy. You were quickly running out of options.

“I’ll never be your lap dog, Astarion”, you managed and felt a wave of anger rise up in you as you spat out the words.

The captain kept staring at you but for a split second you saw doubt flit through his crimson eyes and his chokehold on you let up for a moment.

Immediately, you made use of that in combination with anger giving you new strength. You pushed Astarion off you with a furious scream, making him tumble back and even fall with how forceful you had pushed him in his short moment of weakness.

You stepped away from the steering wheel quickly and with sabre in hand looked around, taking in your situation. You were still in the port? Why wasn’t this damned thing moving?

Then you remembered: the sails hadn’t been lowered yet.

Cursing so viciously even a bard would have been impressed by your colourful language, you turned around on the heel of your boot and ran for the nearest rope holding up the mainsail. Without letting go of your weapon but merely flipping it around so you could use your fingers and your other hand, you unwound the rope as quickly as possible. Letting go of it when you had managed you hoped to be rewarded with the big sail coming down and getting you moving. But when you looked up you saw that the damn thing had barely moved at all. Another rope was still holding it in place.

You groaned in desperation - well, you had obviously jinxed it by calling this whole endeavour easy at the beginning. This wasn’t easy at all anymore. In fact, it was a desperate pain in the ass.

Behind you you heard steps fast approaching. And when you turned around, you saw Astarion charging at you again, rapier at the ready, face nothing but an angry mask. But this time you had more time to react. You were ready to meet him now.

Nonchalantly, you threw your sabre up into the air to flip it around. You effortlessly caught it again and steadied yourself for the oncoming blow.

And then it came: the fine, thin blade thrust directly towards your neck. But you dodged the strike easily and struck the rapier away from your body, making it scrape along the edge of your sabre. The force with which Astarion had struck against you and that of your counter strike almost made the captain lose balance immediately.

But what he lacked in strength he made up with speed and dexterity. He withdrew the rapier from where it was drawn towards the ground by you and immediately started another assault, this time aiming for your torso. You dropped your blade to parry his, but his move had only been a feint

Astarion placed another lightning-quick strike towards your hip and you could only drop your weapon to counter in the very last second by letting the rapier crash against your hilt. The force of the strike immediately let pain shoot up your whole arm and into your shoulder. But this unfortunate counter had not only hurt you. You heard Astarion’s pained moan but when you looked into his eyes he was still just as furious, if not even more.

The pale captain then elegantly spun around trying to slash you across the face. You dodged by bowing low and then finally placed your first attack by striking upwards, aiming for Astarion’s shoulder. But your opponent quickly stepped out of your reach and hissed at you, your blade missing him by a fair amount.

And finally with some distance between you, you took your chances and ran off towards the other rope still holding up the sail. Immediately, you knew you were being followed by the angry scream ringing out behind you and the rushing footsteps. When you had reached the spot you turned around again and were immediately hit in the face with the hilt of the rapier.

You groaned as you saw stars and fell back against the railing. He’d hit you squarely on the nose. And the wet feeling you noticed immediately afterwards could only mean that he had drawn blood.  But you didn’t let go of your sabre and still managed to parry Astarion’s next blows. A fine pirate you’d be if you were to give up after one hearty punch in the face. This was merely a warmup.

But Astarion’s attacks seemed almost a bit cautious now. Was he letting up? It almost seemed that he hadn’t planned to hurt you that much with the unfair blow of the wrong end of his weapon. His fault though, for taking it easy on you.

“You know you’re supposed to stab me with the pointy end, not the blunt one, right?”, you spat breathlessly between trading blows with your former lover. That again made Astarion rage with fury. Heedlessly he swung his blade at you and you once more dodged by bowing below it, only being missed by a hair now.

And then you suddenly heard rustling above you. You quickly looked up and saw the end of the rope flutter while the mainsail was finally unfolding. Apparently, the rapier strike had just cut through the last string attached holding you captive in this port - good!

Astarion too had been distracted by the sudden happenings. “Shit”, he cursed under his breath. Both your weapons were lowered now as you watched the sail filling up with wind. And then with a sudden yank the ship started moving and with that threw you both against the wooden railing - hard. Your hat fell off and you could only helplessly yelp as you saw it drop into the water out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re never going to get away with this”, Astarion hissed at you as you were both grabbing to hold on and gain balance again.

“But I am already getting away with it”, you grinned back while you felt more blood run from your nose into your mouth. A quick glance confirmed that you had at least steered well enough and the ship was moving away from the docks.

“Even if you are, you are never going to beat me”, the pale captain hissed again while he was pushing away from the railing and raising his weapon again. He was stumbling a bit but he wouldn’t give up, same as you.

“I don’t have to”, you replied and gritted your teeth as you too took up a fighting stance again. You were fairly sure you couldn’t keep going much longer but you still had to rid yourself of this unwanted guest.

Astarion looked in confusion at you while he made no move to attack you while you were still arranging yourself - gentleman’s agreement.

“I just need to be a pain in your ass so you’ll never forget what you’ve done to me”, you finished and licked over your lips, tasting copper and baring your teeth at him for just a moment.

For a quick second Astarion’s shoulders dropped and you saw hurt and guilt flash over his face. But it was quickly gone and replaced with anger once more as he rushed towards you in a final effort.

You stood your ground and watched him come with determination on your face. With a mighty blow of your own you met Astarion’s blade. And then it was a measure of strength again as your blades were pressing against each other. Astarion’s face was a grimace of pain and anger while he immediately went to support the blade with both his hands. You easily held yourself against him now. You’d always been the stronger one.

“We really have to stop meeting like this, love”, you said with a grin although your whole body was hurting now and in your mind and in your chest conflicting emotions were also still battling each other. You wanted to push him away for good as much as you wanted to pull him closer. Astarion just scoffed in response with his face twisted in pain. Both of your arms were shivering from the effort.

You were still torn between pushing and pulling - so you opted for something in between.

With a swift movement you withdrew yourself and your blade, causing Astarion to stumble forward caused by the sudden loss of resistance.

And that was your opening. With your free hand you grabbed the front of his doublet forcefully and pulled him even closer towards you while Astarion’s eyes widened in shock. But you hadn’t planned to hurt him - or not as he probably expected.

You dragged him over to you and crushed your mouth to Astarion’s lips that were already opened in surprise. The captain gasped when your mouths met but you didn’t leave him time to readjust. You let your tongue slip into his mouth and kissed him: passionately, forcefully but still meaning more to please than to hurt. And Astarion took you up on it, welcoming your kiss and giving in, even slowly moving closer. It was another show of strength but this time you won easily.

When you had almost forgotten what you had actually planned to do, you curtly stepped away sideways, letting go of Astarion. But not without noticing the glazed over look in the pale captain’s red eyes. His blade was lowered now, as were his defences in this instant. You saw the wishful yearning on your former lover’s eyes and knew that it was mirrored on your face, probably with a huge blush too.

But you had come here to steal a ship - and a ship you would steal.

“Thanks for buying me this gift”, you whispered and then with a quick and forceful movement pushed Astarion - whose face only managed to change to confusion - over the railing and off the ship.

You heard him yelp and then a big splash of water. iImmediately, you leaned over the railing to check if he was okay. After all, you had only meant to get him off your newly acquired property. To your relief you quickly spotted Astarion coming up from his plunge. His wet curls were hanging around his face now as you saw the hate and the fury on his face.

“You can have my hat if you can find it”, you screamed as the vessel was quickly moving away from where you saw a flash of Astarion’s curls in the dark water.

“STAEVE!”, he screamed. “YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” The anger in his voice was blood curdling. Good thing you were quickly moving away from him. You were pretty sure he’d find a painful way to kill you in this instant, given the opportunity.

“WE WILL MEET AGAIN AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!”, was the last thing you heard before you turned away from the railing. “Bet”, you replied only to yourself and walked over to the steering wheel. You looked up at the stars and checked if you were on your planned course to pick up your crew.

Then you went below deck of the Absolute to go find some desperately needed liquor.

By the time you’d reach the rest of your crew you’d be blackout drunk. Not only because you wanted to celebrate being captain of a new ship now, but mainly to forget the captain of another.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 companions #staeve #astarion x staeve

[princesssarisa]

Since A Dickens December just recently covered the scene in A Christmas Carol, where Fred and his guests play Yes and No, I've found myself comparing the book scene to its equivalent in The Muppet Christmas Carol. In the book, the humor at Scrooge's expense is balanced by Fred expressing his compassion for Scrooge, who, as he watches invisibly, takes the joking in stride and ends the scene in a happy mood. But in the Muppet movie, Fred's compassionate speeches about Scrooge are cut, leaving only the insulting humor (which is reworded too – instead of "rather disagreeable" and "a savage animal," Scrooge hears himself called "an unwanted creature") and Scrooge is hurt when he hears it.

During last year's Dickens December, I seem to remember some criticism of the Muppets' version of the scene, since it alters the scene's entire meaning and does a disservice to Fred's character. That's a valid critique.

But I want to try to analyze what makes it work within the movie.

Not only is the scene rewritten in the Muppet version, it's also placed before the visit to the Cratchit family rather than after. The order of the entire Ghost of Christmas Present sequence seems to be altered in the movie to create a "rising line of tension." (A quote from Robert Wise about the re-ordering of songs in the 1961 film of West Side Story compared to the stage version.)

Both versions of Scrooge's travels with the Ghost of Christmas Present open with the Ghost showing him the happy hustle and bustle in the streets on Christmas morning. Then, in the book, they visit the Cratchits: a happy scene in general, but increasingly bittersweet with the evidence of the family's poverty and with Tiny Tim's illness, and increasingly grim for Scrooge, first with the Ghost's foretelling of Tim's death and throwing Scrooge's own callous words about the "surplus population" back at him, and then with Mrs. Cratchit's disgust and the children's gloom when Bob proposes a toast to him. But after this comes a moody yet uplifting sequence where the Ghost takes Scrooge to various harsh, gloomy places – a miners' hut, a lighthouse, a ship at sea – where nonetheless, Christmas brings people joy. And then comes the joyful scene at Fred's party, where Fred laughs and jokes about Scrooge, but at the same time reveals his compassion for his uncle and makes it clear that his door is always open to him. Throughout these visits, Scrooge's emotional engagement steadily increases, culminating in his being swept up in the joy of Fred's party, forgetting that no one can see or hear him and joining in the games, and ending the visit "gay and light of heart."

The Muppet version changes the order of events to create a steadier line from joyful to poignant. The bustling street sequence is accompanied by the song "It Feels Like Christmas" (one of the best Christmas movie songs of all time). In a less moody and more lighthearted, Muppety way than Dickens, the song also encompasses the theme of "Christmas brings joy to even the poorest and harshest places" (e.g. to the poor mouse family, and to the prisoner and the jailor who act like friends for the day). Throughout the song, Scrooge slowly becomes engaged, and finally, awkwardly yet joyfully dances along with the Ghost.

Afterwards, swept up in the newly-discovered joy of Christmas, Scrooge asks to see family, so the Ghost accordingly takes him to his only family, Fred. Scrooge enters the scene still on an emotional high from the last one, unironically calling Fred his "dear nephew" and happily joining in the game while forgetting that he's invisible. But then, like a punch or a kick, he hears himself called "an unwanted creature," and sees everyone laughing at his expense. At this point the book's Scrooge has already been reminded of how others feel about him by Mrs. Cratchit, and worse, he's already had to face the fact that Tiny Tim might die because of his callousness. This, combined with Fred's compassionate talk, lets him take the mocking in stride; it's mild compared to what he's heard and realized about himself already. But for Michael Caine's Scrooge, it's a startling and brutal reminder of how he's alienated himself from others, just as he's been realizing how much joy friendship and family can bring.

Then the film's version of the Christmas Present sequence culminates with the bittersweet Cratchit family Christmas, and with Scrooge's realization that Tiny Tim might die because of him.

I understand feeling as if the Muppet version does Fred a disservice by cutting his compassionate speeches in the party scene. But his goodwill and eagerness to reach out to Scrooge are still conveyed in his visit to Scrooge's office at the beginning, and including his compassionate speeches might have broken the line of tension described above.

"Rising lines of tension" seem to be generally considered more important in film than they are in books. Notice how most adaptations of A Christmas Carol, including the Muppet version, slightly change Scrooge's emotional journey in the Christmas Past scenes too. In the book's Past sequence, his biggest emotional breakdown is over his childhood – he breaks down crying at the sight of his younger self all alone at Christmas in the miserable school. But the film versions always break him more slowly; he shows restrained sadness when he sees his lonely child self, but doesn't break down in tears until a later point, usually when Belle leaves.

Another comment is I'd like to make is that in The Muppet Christmas Carol, Scrooge's character arc is framed around his loneliness, his realization that he wants love in his life (both to give it and receive it), and his ultimate desolation at how alone and unloved he is because of his own greed and cruelty. Followed, of course, by joy as he finally gives love to others and receives it in return. I'm not sure if this is exactly Scrooge's arc in the book, but onscreen it works.

Analyzing the changes in adaptations, and determining why they work onscreen or onstage (though without trying to claim that they're improvements) is something I could do for hours. Someday I might want to write a whole essay about how, in the musical of Les Misérables, "A Little Fall of Rain" is arguably the most poignant death scene in the show and one of the most moving deaths in any Broadway-style musical – even though some people validly argue that it's much too romanticized and sentimental compared to Éponine's death in the novel, and that it dilutes her tragedy by having Marius grieve for her instead of just coldly pitying her. While of course it's always nice to see a meticulously faithful adaptation of a book, sometimes certain changes do work well.

#a christmas carol #the muppet christmas carol #ebenezer scrooge #fred #adaptations #analysis

[lenathekiller]

Unrequited

Buggy x Reader Angst

A/N: I just wanted to write something moody, it's not the best honestly but I might continue it sometime. I took inspiration from the song "DYWTYLM" by Sleep Token and a bit of dialogue makes it very clear.

You'd been left behind in some shitty run down town. The ship you had sailed on for the past decade had drifted out to sea along with the crew that's been like family to you. Your life had basically disappeared right infront of you.

You knew none of them meant to leave you behind, but you also knew it'd be far too late for them to come back for you when they do finally notice your absence. They'd all been so excited to Finally see the Grand line, practically buzzing as they had loaded the final crates of supplies they needed for the trip, far too distracted with thoughts of what they would see out there that no one had noticed you weren't back from running the final errand you'd been tasked with.

By the time you'd returned to the dock the massive ship was already far enough away that it looked no bigger than your hand. Shouting or swimming were far beyond the possibilities of working out in your favor. You fell to your knees heartbroken at the sight, watching everything and everyone you'd ever known shrink into the sunset never to be seen by you again.

You'd still been there when Buggy's ship pulled into the harbor late that night. The Clown's men had whooped and hollered in delight of finally being on land again as they past you. The crowd of them seemed to move around you as if you'd been a rock and they were a river flowing around you. None of them seemed to pay you any mind, too concerned with the prospect of getting drunk at the few bars the town had.

It was only Buggy who'd stopped, he stood there staring at your form now sitting with your knees to your chest as your eyes stared unfocused and empty out at the sea at the exact spot your ship had finally disappeared from view. He could tell from the state of your face that you'd cried, maybe even sobbed and we're now left shivering from the chill of being soaked in a mix of your tears as well as the water that had occasionally splashed up onto you from the waves of the sea.

Silently he had placed his coat over your shoulders, sitting down beside you to look out at the water as well. He knew what was wrong, he could tell exactly what happened to you. You had that undeniable look of someone who knew they'd lost everything, he'd seen it multiple times before on people whose lives the Buggy pirates had destroyed, and more importantly had seen it first hand on himself when Shanks betrayed and abandoned him.

"You'll catch cold if you stay out here any longer, especially with the state your in." Finally he'd broken the silence, broken you from your trance of despair, bringing you back to reality and the pain it brought with it.

"They're gone. They left me behind. I'll never see them again. My whole life was practically on that ship, I know nothing but life on that ship... and now it's just... Gone." Your voice was weak, throat hoarse from the lump that'd formed in it hours ago when you'd first began crying.

Buggy wasn't entirely sure what to say now, his initial comment was just to bring you out of that dark mindset he knew you'd been stuck in for what was practically all day. He wasn't use to comforting people, just threatening them or leaving them for one of his crew to take care of. All he could muster up in his head was generic bullshit. "I'm sorry, I've been in your shoes honestly but I don't know what to say."

"What am I supposed to do now? I have nothing left and no where to go." Finally you'd turned your eyes from the sea, looking over to the man sitting next you.

Buggy kept his eyes on the sea thinking for a moment, before turning to meet your gaze. "I don't know, but you're more than welcome to join my crew and I. Even if it's only till you figure out what you'd like to do next."

God were his eyes beautiful, the moonlight was making them practically glow, infact all of him seemed to glow in the silver light as if he were an angel. You gave a weak nod to him, a small seed of happiness planting itself deep within your hallowed heart.

He stood lending a hand to help you up as well, leading you onto his ship. He'd fed you, given you a change of clothes, told you all about his crew, all their flashy acts and adventures. He seemingly fixed you that night, taking you in as one of his own and taking care of you.

You knew it was due to the emotional mess you'd faced that day but when Buggy had tucked you in and bid you goodnight, your heart couldn't help falling for him.

A year had passed now since Buggy took you in and in that time you'd grown to become one of his most faithful crew members. You'd always assist him with all preparations for his performances, standing by during his shows with anything and everything he'd need. By now your dedication to the man could not be questioned, and no one dared to anyways, they could see you loved the man they all looked up to.

Everyone except the man himself could see how you adored Buggy since that fateful night, and some of them even tried to protect those feelings you held. Cabaji or Mohji would always distract you somehow when they knew the captain was 'entertaining' himself with someone, making sure you were too far away to hear any moans that would surely spill out of the Captain's room.

The pair often felt guilty for sheltering you but they couldn't stand to see their newest friend get hurt and deep down they were hoping the captain would eventually fall for you too. Sure your feelings had started out unhealthy, you initially falling for Buggy because you were broken and he was the one that had picked up your pieces, but by now you'd actually grown to hold a healthy love for the man and the both of you deserved to feel that love.

Things changed when Alvida was added to your crew. Buggy was often too absorbed with scheming up plans with the beautiful new co-captian, that he seemed to not have much time to spend with you or any of his crew anymore frankly. It was affecting a good chunk of his crew, especially you, and no matter how much Cabaji or Mohji tried to distract you from the hurt, the pair knew they couldn't fix the problem entirely.

Cabaji was stood out on the upper deck with you currently, looking out at the stars and holding mindless conversation about how to better his act for the next performance.

"Maybe I could teach you how to unicycle, then we could figure out some flashy synchronized thing to do as a pair." He placed his fist to his chin in thought.

You chuckled at the thought of you on a unicycle, swerving around the circus ring with a spotlight on you. Knowing your luck and coordination you'd probably wipe out midway through and end up somehow run over by your own unicycle or Cabaji's. "I'll let you teach me but I don't think I'd ever become as good as you are."

"That's bull, your good at just about everything!" Buggy's voice called out, interrupting your conversation.

Cabaji saw the way you froze and placed a hand on your shoulder whispering his next words to you. "It's just capt, she's not with him don't worry." He gave your shoulder a little squeeze and you a friendly smile before turning to face the Clown.

"I'm gonna let you two talk, I've gotta go practice my routine anyways." Cabaji excused himself, heading below deck to give you two privacy.

"Long time to see it feels like!" Buggy joked coming to lean against the railing beside you.

"It's your own fault you know." Your tone was cold and your eyes remained fixed on the night sky.

"Yea, I guess it is." He felt a little guilty now that'd you'd pointed it out. "Sorry bout that."

"Whatever. Why aren't you spending your night with her like usual? Did her beauty become too much for you, so you came to see me instead?." Your words were laced with hurt.

He glanced at you for a moment, confused at what you were trying to imply. "She's got some things of her own to do tonight is all. What does her appearance have to do with me talking to you?"

"What doesn't it have to do with it? She far more attractive than me, it's no wonder you abandoned me for her." Your gaze shifted downward to the sea below you, watching the waves shimmer in the lights of the night sky.

"I didn't abandoned you, what the hell are you talking about?!" Buggy turned to face you fully, trying to desperately read your body language or what little of your face he could see. "I spend time with her because she's a co-captian and we have to plan out how the hell to accomplish the things we need to!" You stayed silent, not moving at all from you spot, and just when Buggy was about to storm off you had spoken.

"I regret joining your crew." A few tears rolled down your cheeks.

"What do you mean?" The clown honestly couldn't believe your words. How could you regret being one of his crew? You had given no signs of ever being unhappy until now, you'd grown close to his 2 right hand men almost immediately and always seemed to eager to help him with his shows. So why are you just now telling him you'd regretted your decision?! Did he do something upset you? Were you silently hurting as a result of him never having time to spend with you lately?

"I regret everything that's happened since that night you found me. I regret agreeing to let you take care of me that night. I regret agreeing to join your crew and befriending some of them. I regret being by your side ready to help you with everything and anything. I regret letting the others distract me when you'd sleep with a captive or crew mate. I regret letting them try to mend me when Alvida joined and you'd grown distant. I regret feeling at home here. I regret you finding me that night at all. But most of all.." You paused, finally turning to face Buggy with tears in your eyes.

God did it break your heart to see him lit up like an angel just as he had looked on that faithful night. And Man did it break Buggy's heart to see your eyes were filled with that hurt of betrayal and abandonment like they'd been when he first saw you. You were both back to the same state of being you'd been in when you had first met.

You sighed, closing your eyes finally ready to say what you needed to. "Most of all I regret falling for you, letting not only myself but also the crew believe you could ever grow to love me back."

He felt like he'd been hit by one of his famed giant explosive Buggy balls. Every single thought that had been in his brain was gone with the only thing remaining was you admitting you fell for him, replaying over and over again. He knew you were deticated to him but it was normal for a crew member to be deticated to the captain. How had he missed the fact your looks and actions towards him were filled with far more adoration, than those of the rest of his more faithful members. He hadn't let himself see you in the same light as you did him, only letting you remain as someone who's pain he could relate to. He stopped making time for you, distancing himself without even realizing it. Somehow he had managed to push you from his thoughts entirely to the point he had grown to see as just another member of his crew.

"I- I didn't- I don't-" He was stuttering, desperately fighting for his mind to say something, ANYTHING at all.

"Save your breath, I know you didn't know my feelings for you were so deep." Your eyes opened finally, seeing Buggy fighting to get ahold of his own thoughts.

You watched him flounder his mouth open and closed a few times for a moment before taking a few steps away to lean on the railing to watch the stars again. "I'll be leaving ship tomorrow when we dock in Loguetown."

Finally his mind seemed to snap into place, allowing him to speak and think clearly again. "Why?! No one wants you gone."

"You told me that I could stay with you and the crew till I figured out what I wanted to do next." Your voice was soft and smooth, any hurting you felt was undetectable in your tone.

"So you decided what you want to do?" He moved a step closer to you.

"Not really, I only have a small idea of what I could do." You shrugged.

Buggy grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around to face him, his eyes searched yours intensely. "Then why the hell are you leaving?"

"Buggy do you love me?" You had ignored his question, asking one of you own and when he didn't reply you decided to ask a different one. "Do you wish that you loved me?"

He was silent still, causing you to sigh and push his hand off your shoulder begining to walk away. Though his hand quickly flew to stop you, he finally spoke. "I don't know how I feel honestly. I try to tuck away my own emotions so I don't have to deal with them."

"Maybe it's not that you conceal your feelings, they just don't exist. At least none for me anyway." It was a harsh reality that you knew he also knew but was trying to fight. "How ironic isn't, that you're so desperate to be loved by someone, but now that I do you can't bring yourself to love me back. You can't force feelings Buggy, no matter how viciously you try to and we both know that."

His hand released you coming back to rejoin the rest of him. "You're right, I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself."

With that you walked off going to pack your things, leaving the clown to think as endlessly as the stars above him. A hollow feeling formed in his chest, not because he was losing someone he loved or cared deeply for, but because he wasn't and it made him feel extremely guilty for not feeling that way.

By the time you'd docked in LogueTown the next day the whole crew had heard of your leaving them. Many wanted to try to convince you to stay, especially Cabaji and Mohji but they all knew you leaving was for the best after hearing of your talk with Buggy last night. Both Buggy and you had not spoken or even seen each other since said talk, a mutual feeling that there was nothing left to say between the pair of you.

The purpose of the ship docking here was to find the straw hats and reclaim the map of the Grand line from them. The two captains, your two friends and about half of the crew went off to complete the mission, so you really didn't have anyone there to see you off. You'd just grabbed your belongings, saying a few goodbyes to crew that was left on the ship, then left to go into town. Maybe you'd join the Marines now, or find some fishermen and offer to help them out, you honestly had no real idea of what to do now.

Due to the commotion in town caused by the mix of Buggy's crew, the Marines, and the straw hats, you'd somehow ended up on board with the latter. Setting sail for the Grand line with the band of misfit pirates Buggy and your friends had failed to capture.

"So what were you doing in a town like that?" One of the crew asked.

"Nothing really, just saying goodbye to my heart I guess you could say." You answered, a sad smile on your face as for the 2nd time in your life you watched the life you'd grown to know, shrink till it was out of view.

Though this time it was you onboard leaving someone behind to watch helplessly from the docks.

#op buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #angst

[peacekeeperangel]

The CRK Pirate OC Challenge!

Hello everyone! So I've set up a little list of prompts for writing/drawing for all these Pirates I've been seeing wandering across my field as of late. But I'm going to make it a little more interesting.

If possible please either pick up four Six-Sided dice or use this dice generator and roll out a random number- that number will be your prompt! Cause pirates live on chance y'see?

If you take this challenge please do not read your options before you roll, but if you are uncomfortable with the result do go ahead and re-roll. Thank you and I hope you enjoy these prompts

1. Lunch! Your crew is having a meal in the ship’s mess. Do they behave themselves? What are they eating? BONUS: you show either the Cooking process or the cleanup

2. Dead End Race- your oc is sailing in competition with other oc pirate crews! (Bonus: What is the prize at the end?)

3. Your Crew have somehow made it to the Vanilla Kingdom! Costume swap for the win? (Note: If you don’t follow the CRK game/lore feel free to re-roll)

4. Soon May the Wellerman Come~ pick an appropriately sea-themed song for this prompt!

5. UNO REVERSO! Your OC has done a complete 180! What do they look/act like now?

6. Someone on the Crew has done a Naughty. How does your OC punish their sailor? 7. Sea Monster Attack! It’s up to your OC’s crew to save their ship. How does it go?

8. Your OC has gotten sick. Who looks after them and do they behave as a patient? BONUS: How’d they get sick anyway?

9. Your Crew have somehow made it to the Hollyberry Kingdom! Costume Swap for the win? (Note: if you don’t follow the CRK game/lore feel free to re-roll) 10. Someone needs to look after the Cannons. Does it go well or does it go poorly? 11. Bananas and Coconuts. No I will not explain further, your OC must deal with Bananas and Coconuts.

12. Your OC encounters a pool of water that turns everything it touches into solid gold. How did they discover it and how do they deal with it? 13. Your OC encounters a very snooty treacherous noble who has your OC dead to rights. How does your character Jack Sparrow their way out of this one?

14. Draw your OC as a human/meme. If you’re doing this as a writing challenge then you must write a story with as many dad jokes as possible!

15. Drinking Contest! Team up with a friend and have your OC’s in a drinking competition! Decide the winner by rolling a six-sided die, the winner will be whoever rolls higher! (Note: if you’re too nervous to ask anyone, please re-roll)

16. Your OC got into a bind and now must use their Charisma to escape. Are they successful or cringey?

17. Your Crew have somehow made it to the Dark Cacao Kingdom! Costume Change FTW? (Note: if you do not follow the CRK game/lore feel free to roll for a new prompt!)

18. Things are getting Lovecraftian around here. How does your OC cope with the squishy horribleness of it all?

19. A Captain must go down with their ship. Depict the last stand of your OC

20. Mutiny on board! What does your OC do? 21. Your Crew has Made it to the Golden Cheese Kingdom! Costume change for the win? (Note: if you don’t follow CRK game/lore feel free to re-roll)

22. GIANT BOULDER! AKA, your OC’s Indiana Jones moment. How do they handle it?

23. Depict your OC’s proudest moment.

24. Time for bed. Depict your OC sleeping (Bonus: Make it Wholesome/spicy as you see fit) EDIT BONUS: If you have Completed all 24 Prompts you must have the dreaded CABIN FEVER! Draw/write your OC concequences suffering Cabin Fever

#cookie run kingdom #cookie pirate OCs #something I just sort of came up with #I might add more to it later but 24 prompts seems enough for now #Roll them dice me hearties!

[dragoninahumancostume]

I'm bored so

All years referenced in Hamilton:

(directly from the songs)

1776, Aaron Burr, Sir

1780, Winter's Ball

1781, Yorktown (The World Turned Upside-Down)

1785, I Know Him

1789, What'd I Miss

1791, We Know

1800, The Election of 1800

(by event/lyric, assuming Alexander was born in 1757, in order of events. This might be a bit confusing so feel free to ask clarification)

1754, I was given my first command I led my men straight into a massacre

1766, when he was ten his father split

1768, his mother went quick

1768-1835, Philip Jeremiah Schuyler (Angelica's brother, son of Philip Schuyler. Philip had like 15 children apparently, including the sisters and Philip)

1769, the cousin committed suicide

1769, as a kid in the Caribbean I wished for a war ("I wish there was a war", letter to Edward Stevens)

1771, they placed him in charge of a trading charter

1772, a hurricane destroyed Hamilton's town

1772, ship is in the harbor now see if you can spot him

1773, I am Hercules Mulligan

1773, your tea which you hurl in the sea (Boston Tea Party)

1775, Farmer Refuted

1775, yo let's steal their cannons

1775, I was a captain under general Montgomery until he caught a bullet in the neck in Quebec

1776, British Admiral Howe's got 32000 troops in New York harbor

1776, he promotes Charles Lee makes him second-in-command

1777, I need someone like you to lighten the load (Alex becomes Washington's right hand man)

1777, I'm John Laurens in the place to be

1777, je m'apelle Lafayette

1778, Theodosia meets Burr

1778, Battle of Monmouth

1778, duel between Laurens and Lee

1779, Laurens i like you a lot (letter from Alex to John, "I wish, my dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by actions rather than words, to convince you that I love you")

1780, give it up for the maid of honor (Alexander and Eliza's wedding)

1781, Hamilton leaves Washington (due to his lack of command)

1781, we fought with him

1782, Philip's birth

1782, me I died for him

1783, Theodosia's birth

1785, I am sailing off to London

1787, at the constitutional convention, goes and proposes his own form of government

(October-August) 1787-1788, write a series of essays titled The Federalist Papers

1789, Hamilton runs the state department

1789-1792, life without the monarchy

1790, Cabinet Battle #1

1791, Burr becomes senator

1791, Hamilton meets Ms. Reynolds

1793, Cabinet Battle #2

1793, Thomas Jefferson resings

1797, Washington's presidency ends

1797-1801, Adams' administration

1797, The Reynolds Pamphlets

1799, George Washington's death

1800, the first murder trial of our brand new nation (Levi Weeks' trial)

(March) 1801, death of Peggy Schuyler

(July) 1801, George Eacker's 4th of July speech

(23th November) 1801, George and Philip's duel

(24th November) 1801, Philip's death

1804, Alexander Hamilton's death

1810, You're making me mad (King George III actually goes mad)

1820, I'll love you til my dying days (King George dies)

I tried my best to get most of the dates, but tell me if I missed any! :)

#hamilton #hamilton musical #I really want to do a “every part that's historically inaccurate in Hamilton and everything that's a direct quote” #For funsies

[moon-huny]

Stole the Moon - Chapter Two

CW: My content is not for anyone under 18. Some sharp objects in this chapter. Mild language. Some coercion and, whats this, sexual frustration? You're still kidnapped so, mentions of imprisonment.

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: Finally feeling generous, Buggy calls for his right hand man to bring you above deck. Can he smoothly transition into his plan, or do you have other ideas?

A/N: I know I already said it in an update post, but thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my work. And for all the new followers! It truly means a lot.

I am going to rip the bandaid off now. No clown smut in this chapter. I know, I know, okay, I'm sorry. This is meant to be a slow burn people, we need some push and pull before we get to the push and pull, ya know? That being said, there will be some nasty nasty in chapter three, I can promise you that. Okay, that's all, enjoy.

masterlist ✧˖°

previous • next

Days passed and you hadn’t received a visit.

Every evening, a small bowl filled with enough food to keep you alive is passed through the bars along with a small tin cup of watery tasting alcohol. Nobody spoke to you, nobody lit the candles when you ran out of matches, nobody offered you even a passing glance. You were left entirely alone in the darkened hull of a gaudy ship sailing to god knows where.

Maybe he forgot about you. What use could you provide to a man like that? You began to question what it was he even needed you for. What could you possibly know about the sea that he didn't know? You’d tried so hard to remember, hoping something, anything, would come to your mind.

You thought about the map. The one he spread out for you to see that night. You recalled the waiting look in his eyes, hoping you’d recognize it. Nothing. You replayed the moment again in your head, his broad gloved hands smoothing across the fabric of the map. What did the map look like again? All you could think about was the flex of his hand. The way his eyes had flicked up to look at you, under a strong brow and peering through long lashes.

Your memory wandered back to the moment when you were closest to him. When he had you caged against the wall, the heat of his body radiating off of him, hot breath ghosting over your lips. The way his knee pressed ever so deliciously to your –

You gasp, in shock and disgust at your own thoughts. “Oh, absolutely not,” you say aloud. The loneliness was getting to you.

You went to the port hole. In your time down here you’d searched the entire cell for anything you could use to escape. After coming up empty handed, you took it upon yourself to do some… redecorating.

You’d made the bed more comfortable with some fabric you’d found, and stacked the empty cargo into a more comfortable variation so you could look out the small round window. Climbing atop the sturdy mound of boxes and barrels, you looked out across the velvet waves. The crescent moon shone brightly, its reflection causing the gentle water to sparkle and flicker, as though tea candles were floating and bobbing on the surface.

A tear rolled down your cheek, another, and soon you were crying with too little energy to sob. That's when you thought you heard someone walking gently above you on the deck of the ship, humming a tune. It was different from the sea shanties you normally heard during the day, this melody sounded more like a lullaby.

The song was haunting, and yet, hearing another person, knowing somebody was sharing this moment with you in the moonlight, lightened the weight on your chest. Your crying stopped, the comfort taking over your exhausted frame as you leaned against the wall by the window listening to the voice pull you into the warmth of sleep.

Unknown to you, the vocalist leaning against the railing of the ship was devising a plan. A miserable plan to ruin you and lead you to a hell you wouldn’t recognize until it was too late – a sly smirk spreading across his red painted lips.

///

Buggy was spread out across his throne-like chair. The captain’s quarters were decorated like a big top circus tent – red and white fabric ballooned across the ceiling of the small room. The space was filled with gold and treasure of every kind. The desk was cluttered with navigation tools and maps.

“Cabaji, I’d like for you to retrieve our guest now,” his voice dripped with a sinister undertone. He barely paid any attention to the man before him, instead staring at a dainty silver necklace wrapped around his hand.

“Captain, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Cabaji wavered before his ringleader. The chief of staff knew what you had the potential to do, he knew what you were and it was only a matter of time before you figured it out too.

“I didn’t ask you to think,” his head fell to the side finally regarding the swordsman. “I asked you to go. GET. THAT. BRAT!”

“Yes, captain.” Turning about-face with a sigh, Cabaji made his way down to your cell.

///

Hearing footsteps this early in the morning was unusual. Unusual enough to cause you to bolt upright in bed. Through the darkened hallway – the morning light not quite reaching the lower decks of the ship yet – your eyes adjusted enough to see a recognizable swordsman stalking toward you through the shadows.

You sprang from the bed, your eyes not once leaving the taller man’s form. Standing in the middle of your room, you made your best attempt to question him before he could reach your cell door.

“It’s a bit early,” your voice wavered, a look of uncertainty on your face. “What do you want?” You questioned hoping that the increase in volume would make you sound more confident, it didn’t.

He unlocked the door and threw it open. “Get out, you’re coming with me.”

“Like hell, where is the clown? What are you planning on doing with me?”

This was the first time anyone had spoken to you in days. This was perhaps the only moment you might have to get some answers.

Cabaji sighed with frustration, he wanted nothing more than to sling you over his shoulder, carry you to the captain’s quarters and save everyone a lot of time, and yet, he recalled the final words Buggy said before sending him on this errand.

“And Cabaji, … don’t touch her.”

He wasn’t one to question Buggy’s orders but, on a crew that was so rarely regulated outside of performance, Cabaji had to wonder what the order was for.

“Come. Now.” You gave the green haired man a hesitant look.

“If I don’t?”

“Then I can only imagine Buggy will let you rot down here.”

Spending another moment alone might kill you, especially in the sensory deprivation chamber that was this room.

“Lead the way,” a weak response. Cabaji turned, leaving the door open.

At first you couldn't make your legs move. The idea that you could walk out, just step beyond the threshold of iron and rust and rot. Yet, you did, slowly at first then all at once speeding up to catch the stoic man.

Climbing up onto the deck in the morning light was reward in and of itself. The sun was just finishing its rise, gracing your skin, warming your face and causing you to squint.

“This way,” Cabaji called after you. He made his way toward an ornate door at the stern of the ship. He peeled the doors open, walked in, and stood to the side as you followed behind him.

His eyes scanned your appearance and, after consideration, displayed a distasteful look. You could have assumed you weren’t looking your best, being locked up on a pirate ship wasn’t exactly a spa retreat. The braid you had your hair in was full of tangled knots you had tried again and again to brush, your skin was dull, reflecting your time in the dark and your clothing could hardly be considered appropriate.

“He’ll speak with you soon,” said the swordsman. “Whenever he decides to collect himself,” and he slipped out behind you, shutting the doors.

Standing alone in the den of a predator, you naturally did what any prey would do, you began to inspect.

The room was beautiful – if not a little cliche for the circumstance – the big top theme was not lost on you. Though the room was small, something about the leading lines of the tent-like structure above you made the space feel larger.

On one end of the room, large draping curtains separated his bedroom from the rest of the office. The large wood carved bed dressed up with colorful weighted fabrics called to your aching body. Weeks of sleeping on a plank had taken its toll on you.

There was a large desk in the center with several detailed maps displayed across it. A small gleaming dagger staked into the mahogany kept a stack of papers in place. After looking around the room and seeing no one, you pulled the jeweled blade from the wood opting to carry it by your side just out of sight.

Behind the desk, a large chair with a circus motif. Golden lions wearing collars perched on the armrests, the crushed red velvet of the seat complimented the gold and ruby circus tent adorning the back.

As you reached out to touch the gorgeously detailed piece, a voice from behind startled you.

“It’s just as comfortable as it looks, ya know,” said Buggy. “Go ahead, have a seat.”

He was standing at the entrance. How did you not hear him come in? You both stood opposite one another in the room. A space between you that was comfortable and one you would normally prefer to keep, but you would rather have revenge. Holding the small knife behind your back, you stood stone still, hands becoming clammy and heart rate picking up.

“S’matter?” he said. “You look terrified.” Mock concern, his specialty.

“What do you want?” quiet, just above a whisper, it was like your voice had floated from your lips. The pillowy softness of your words drew him closer.

He made his way around the desk to you. Your eyes never leaving one anothers. He pulled the silver necklace from his coat pocket. He looked more relaxed without the garish captain's hat and the arsenal of weapons he usually kept draped on his person.

“I wanted to return something.” Your eyes glanced over at his hand holding a beautiful silver necklace. A dainty spiga chain wrapped around his fingers, but the real draw was the antique pendant encasing a gorgeous moonstone. You recognized it immediately. It belonged to someone close to you, but her face was blurry in your mind.

“I’ve never seen that before,” you said, hoping you hid your emotions enough to not draw intrigue.

“Oh? Because, I remember it looking gorgeous on you.” His eyes flicked down to where your arms crossed behind your back. Your breath stopped, squeezing the handle of the dagger hoping he wouldn’t ask.

“Put it on me then,” you say, fast enough to draw his attention away from your nefarious little friend. You spun around quickly to move the dagger in front of you, hiding it against your inner arm where your limbs crossed over your stomach.

The blue haired man smiled a sly smile. He stepped toward you, your back to him was not ideal but, as far as you knew, you still had the element of surprise on your side.

His hand came up to gently move your hair out of the way. His gloved fingertips just lightly brushing along the top of your back and over your shoulder, pushing your braid to the side. You tried to steady your breathing, feeling nervousness rising to your chest knowing what you were about to do.

His arms came up over your head to rest the pendant across your chest. As he brought the clasp together at your nape, he didn’t miss his chance to lightly drag his knuckles against the soft skin on either side of your neck. Clipping the silver together, his touch lingered for a moment.

By the way you reacted to such featherlight touches, Buggy knew Cabaji did exactly as he’d asked. Nobody was to touch you. Your hunger to connect with another person had to be fed by him and him only. If this was to work, he’d have to consume your every thought.

Right now, however, you were poisoning the butterflies in your stomach and focusing on executing your impromptu plan. In one swift motion, you spun to face the man behind you. His arms dropped to the side. His face contorted into one of anger, eyes narrowing at you. The dagger pressed into his jugular, a forceful stab is all it would take to kill him.

“Hands where I can see em, clown,” you spit.

His face pulled into a worried expression. Eyebrows furrowing together, eyes pleading, he swallowed a lump in his throat. You admit, you felt powerful. He began drawing his arms upward in order to bring his hands to the sides of head. You swore your peripheral vision was playing tricks on you.

You whipped your gaze to verify that what you were seeing was true. Both of his arms ended in stumps. Your eyes widened and you affixed your terrified gaze back onto the man.

“Nice try, sweetheart!” and punctuated his remark with a wink.

It all happened so fast, two cotton clad hands flew in from behind you and gripped your wrists. The strength of them hauling you back and pulling your arms up above your head. You looked up and confirmed your fears.

Indeed, Buggy’s disembodied hands were pulling you upward just enough so you were forced to balance on the tips of your toes. You dangled in front of him, chest heaving in panic. You let out various little feral sounds attempting to struggle out of the binding grip he had on you. Until, out of pure vexation, you let out a scream.

“Ooo, geez, honey please,” he said, frowning and squinting his eyes closed. “Little too loud for the morning, okay? Let’s maybe dial it back a bit.”

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

“Yeah, well doll, you missed that chance didn’t ya?”

You let out another few struggling grunts and then another scream.

His eyes rolled, “We done? ... Wanna do one more? Ya know, when women are screaming in my room it’s usually after cumming a third time.”

You just stared at him dumbfounded. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The comment itself just about slapped you across the face enough to shut you up. He knew it too.

When he clocked that most of your fight had left your body from exhaustion, he made himself at home in your personal space yet again. Feeling his presence so close felt claustrophobic. His eyes scanned you. The weight of his gaze was enough to have you withering, his hands still holding you up.

“This dress is all wrong for you,” he said. “How about you get cleaned up, hmm?” the stump of his arm came up under your chin to lift your eyes to him. “I can’t have an exhausted dinner guest, you’d be asleep by dessert!” Then at a hushed volume, “and I prefer a conscious final course.”

Making a disgusted face at that last comment, what he was offering didn’t sound so bad. The things you would do right now for a bath, a chance to brush your hair, to clean the grime from your nails, to rest. The watercolor green eyes of the man before you softened, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“Alright then … I’ll leave you to it,” he finally dropped you as his hands found their normal resting place on his body. At the snap of his fingers, two young women opened the doors and came rushing in, immediately crowding you.

“Ladies, do you think you can help our guest get more comfortable?” he asked them as he backed up and began to take his leave.

They both stood before you, arms crossed with disapproving looks on their faces. Their outfits were perfect mirror images of each other, same for the makeup. Their hair was cut short, each movement they made caused their tight coils to bounce. The height and overall measurements of the two women were exactly alike as well.

Their only difference was their skin, hair and eye color. The red-haired woman had a pink tinge to her tawny skin – an obvious sunburn from being at sea – and bright blue eyes. The woman on the right had clearly added too much blush atop her natural sepia coloring in order to match her partner’s reddened condition, the hair framing her face was a smooth onyx color, her eyes a warm amber shade.

They turned to face him in perfect unison, “We can try.” They both said.

“Greaaat.” he replied, clearly off put by their synchronization. “Well then, doll, I’ll see you at dinner this evening.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚

taglist: @tokoyamisstuff @mommymilkerfanclub @chaoticqueen33 @tootoomanycats

taglist is open.

#buggy the clown #stole the moon #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #buggy fanfic #op buggy #buggy d clown #one piece buggy #buggy smut #captain buggy #buggy opla

[bloodandthestars]

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍.

touchstarved. pirate!ais x gn reader

tags: reader is the first mate, mention of stitches but nothing gory

author’s note: this draft has been in my notion forever and now she’s making her debut as an ais drabble, YESSIR. I’m not sure on a part two cause if it did happen it would be long after my current project. IF YOU’D LIKE THE THEME SONG IF THERE WAS A SERIES it’s chain by lolo zouaï :))

wc: 3.6k

“Easy gentlemen,” You say in a smug tone with your hands in the air. “No need to harm the merchandise.”

The comment earns you another shove in the back as you and a few of your crewmates walk to the main mast of the main deck. Soldiers aim their weapons at your group, pistols and swords alike with sneering glares to accompany them. You look to your crew and they look back at you. Your eyes shift from one part of the ship to the next, before hearing the crowd of officers shift. You look up to see what appears to be the general, stricken in his formal posture as he strides towards you. His head held tightly in the air, he looked down at you like you were something to wipe the floor with.

“So, is this the infamous pirates of The Spade?” He scoffs, turning his head to eye your emptied home on the sea and laughing. “This is your ship?”

“Works mighty fine for a big vessel, unlike what you may have in those overgrown trousers-” Your remark is quickly cut off by the muskets furthering themselves in your direction. You turn your head begrudgingly as one gets inches away from your neck.

“Silence, scoundrel.” The general hisses. “Now, where are the others? We are well aware of your plans to search for-”

One of your crew yells. “There are no others, shitrag!”

The general scoffs once more, tilting his head in your direction. “And would Captain Ais leave his crew behind so cowardly?” He steps toward you, eyeing you as gets in your face. “Well, when it’s so pitiful— how could he not?”

Your jaw locks and for the sake of your crew, you remain still. He begins again. “Now, where is-”

POW!

In the blink of an eye, a bullet nicks the general’s shoulder. You remained still, with a cunning smile laid on your face—the general scowls at you before looking for the source of his injury. Up in the crow’s nest of The Spade was the very captain himself, guarded with a flintlock pistol. He aims for his next shot, a minor distraction for more of the crew to come out of hiding just as he did. They sprung from the hold, immediately throwing makeshift grenades—the officers ducked for cover without a moment to lose. The general tries his best to do the same but stops. “What the-”

Large barrels of smoke escape the grenades. Soon enough it covers the entire deck. You catch the general’s grimace at you before waving as the smoke hides you within. You hear the shouts of the second crew, and ropes swing to reach the enemy ship. You find yourself smiling as the crew combine and rejoice. Even apart for a few moments, they can’t help but celebrate one another. Your ears hear the clanks of metal on the wooden floorboards: Weapons. You remain sharp with the smoke at every turn you make, but most certainly, you are calm. You turn your head towards the sound of a coat whirling in the air. The captain throws you your sword and its grasped by you easily. The smoke fades, revealing a battle taking over the entire ship. You glance at moments across the ship, fights between your men and the officers heated and growing more aggressive by the second. You ready your grip on your sword, taking a look at the fleeting general and then at Captain Ais himself. He looks at you at the same time and the two of you nod in agreement.

The both of you charge towards the officers between you and the general. You block a quick attack from an officer’s sword, turning your wrist to maneuver a parry. You swipe at the officer’s chest, causing him to back into the railing. You waste no time— kicking him square in the chest to throw him off the boat entirely. You turn to see another officer charge towards you while Ais takes on two himself. You scoff. “Show off!”

Before handling the next enemy, you could have sworn you spied a small smile on his face. You shift to your right, avoiding a sword with you in its crosshairs. You kick him in the back of his knee. The man yelps, throwing his rapier in the air. Before he could think of anything else, you advanced your sword across his throat. He falls with no sound left of him and the second sword lands right in your other hand. You catch your captain’s eye as he finishes the two soldiers. “Show off, huh?”

You only shrug with a smile, both of you keeping pace with reaching the general once more. You shove past other fights, dodging and swinging at those around you. You pull through until Ais is stopped abruptly. A foot lands on his coat, pulling him back for a split moment. You’re quick to kick the officer off to free him. Ais deflects a cutlass coming at you from the side. You turn to cross your swords in an X, shielding your body from another attack. “Next time-” you grunt against the force “-you’re the damsel in distress.”

Ais snorts. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

You huff, using one sword for an uppercut while the other deflects the enemy weapons. You slash at them once, before hooking your arm to Ais’s. He pulls you from over his back, with you kicking an incoming soldier down while cutting at the soldier from your previous side. Once both your forms are reset, your backs touch each other as you take down a few more guards in your way.

While deflecting another attack, you spot the general attempting to flee to the helm. Your brows furrow as you take down the remaining one of the few. You get your feet to run in his direction through the chaos. There was no need to look back when you knew the captain was right behind you. Instead, you take a glance at your cutlass before readying it in your hand. Before his hand can grasp onto the wheel, your sword is quickly engrained into the wood with an attentive throw. The general frantically looks between the both of you charging at him and his uniform sleeve stuck to the wheel over and over until he can reach the handle of the sword. With a large war cry, the general pulls the sword from its place— freeing himself and a weapon to hold.

“Shit-”

“Nice one, Sparrow.”

“Bite me.”

The two of you reach him and prepare to attack. Ais goes from the top down in his swing but the general defends it fast. You shove at his side, grabbing onto his injured shoulder.

“Argh!” The general let out an angered cry, flinging his sword back and cutting at Ais’s chest. He steps back to adjust and you gasp at the sudden move. Your face scrunches, giving the general a hard push as you slice his shoulder. The blood splatters but you don’t stop there. You sling your sword across his chest, once, twice, backing him until his back reaches the railing of the end of the boat. You go for another but he’s finally able to deflect the attack. The two weapons clash, with the two of you carrying strong looks at each end. Ais finds the opportunity you made for him, tripping the general’s legs and finally, piercing him in the chest.

The general’s sword falters against your own, and the very man falls to his knees. His face shifts to a pained disoriented expression as Ais snatches his weapon from his body. The general struggles to hold on to the railing as blood creeps into his uniform at a quick pace.

The two of you stand over him as he writhes in pain, faces made of steel. He looks up to you with shocked eyes, his mouth agape in labored silence.

“What’s the move, captain?” You utter between breaths. Ais’s breath finally calms, with his eyes shutting after. He exhales. Lowering to reach the general’s eyesight, He stares at him with a dark look in his eyes. The captain’s face never falters, watching as the general still struggles. Ais gets back into a stance, uttering the simple phrase as he looks down at the man who tried him.

“Finish the men, take the supplies. Make sure he gets a front-row seat at everybody that floats off into the ocean. And to that end, with him as the last remaining pathetic life, sink the ship.”

You only nod at your orders.

The darkness settles as the crew finishes what was left of the ale for the night. You watch as they huddle the forecastle deck, arms slung around each other as they laugh endlessly. A smile creeps onto your face, laughing to yourself looking away for a moment. You look up to see a crewmate walk to you. “C’mon you!”

Before you can give a response, she grabs your arm— going under and carrying you over your shoulder with ease. You yelp and she and the crew laugh as she takes you to them. She sits you on a stool and grins at you proudly. “Let’s hear it for our captain and first mate!”

You shake your head with a grin, the cheers of your crew overflowing with clinks of glasses in the air. You move to stand on top of your seat, giving them a bit to settle before speaking. “Nothing could be accomplished, nor give me and the captain fuel to remain strong— without the lot of you. You did well today, and we should not ignore even the smallest celebrations.”

A whistle ensues and you nod, yet pause. “Our true goal lies ahead, and who is to stop us from reaching it?”

“No one!”

“Bloody nothing!”

The crew magnifies in sound. You jump off, boots making a strong thud against the floorboards. They gather around you with prideful shouts, and you cheer along with them proudly. “Another barrel!” You hear someone shout. In an instant, the cork of a barrel is sliced away, and ale overflows into the cups of many once more. You laugh once again with them. As your throat begins to settle from shouting with the crowd, you catch the dim light behind the stained glass of the captain’s quarters.

The night was quiet when you knocked at the antique doors. It’s a few seconds before there’s a response.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me.”

You hear a pained groan that causes your brows to press together.

“Come in, Sparrow.”

You open the doors, noticing the scraps of bloodied rags and crinkled papers across the captain’s desk. Your eyes widen as you spot the man in his large chair with his head hung low— messy brown-white strands falling from his short ponytail. His hand holds the desk for support. When he looks up at you, you instantly spot the crimson mess across his chest.

“What is-?”

You cut him off. “Aht, don’t even.”

His brow raises with a strained voice. “Don’t what?”

“Deflect. From your, you know-” You create a circle at your chest. “situation.”

Ais scoffs, tone remaining sarcastic as it usually was— even with the injury. “You worrying about little old me?”

He goes to stand but the turning causes him to hiss in pain, putting his hand to his chest. The man looks up to catch your expression: a raised brow with arms crossed. You open your mouth. “-don’t say it.”

You give him a look, moving wordlessly from the door. He watches as make your way to the front of the small fireplace set in the quarters. Pulling two chairs from the mapping table, you set them next to the fire. Ais turns his head for his sight to follow you. You go to his desk, searching through the rags to grab the cleanest ones and the needle and thread amongst the mess. You look back at him, catching his eyes before nodding to the chairs. “Well, go on.”

“Giving me orders now, are we?”

“Yes, we are.” You say slyly. He huffs, nonetheless walking to one of the chairs to sit in. He groans as he sits back to get as comfortable as he could. You open the dark cabinet next to the desk, eyes searching through the various glass bottles. You shift through them before finding a tall brown one containing rum, and a water jug. Checking their weights, you turn and walk towards your own seat.

You catch him looking at you, and he proceeds to heed you once more. “You don’t have to do this.”

A raised brow appears from you as you sit. “Would you rather me get Yasei to butcher the stitches drunk off her ass?”

Ais presses his lips together to suppress a slight smile. “No, I suppose not.”

You laugh. “I thought so.”

You untie your various belts and weapons, setting them on the floor with a clinking sound. You roll up the puffed sleeves of your loose shirt and scoot your chair forward for a closer look. You pull the stained fabric of his clothing, sticky between your fingers. He catches the way your face twists at the sight of the gash.

Your hand grabs the brown bottle, teeth pulling off the cork in seconds. You hand it to him and he places it on his lips to drink. Ais’s head falls back, gulping down most of the rum. You ready a worn cloth with water from the other jug, receiving the bottle from him in the other hand. You drink what’s left inside, shutting your eyes for a minute as it burns down your throat. An exhale escapes you, opening your eyes to see a questioning look on Ais’s face. Your hand makes a motion with the bottle before setting it on the wooden floor. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

He grins. “Not at all.”

Silence settles as you begin to use the cloth on the wound. You lean forward, making sure to get every look into it. Ais fixes his gaze on the fire to his right while you go to work. Blood falls in trickles down his skin, clearing the previous mess. It didn’t look too bad so far, you thought. It still required stitches, however. You throw one rag to the ground, grab another, and begin the process over again. Where there was quiet between you both was also a sense of comfort. Whispers of the shifting waves remain, giving your own resolve a bit of calm. After properly cleaning through it, you pat away the remaining water.

“They’re beginning to learn about what we’re after.”

He turns his head to look down at you. “That so? I thought the rumor was that we were chasing myths and bedtime stories.”

The ends of your lips quirk up for a second, eyes still on the injury at hand. “Most of them still believe that.” You give him a short glance. “But if a general knows, then other fleets surely do.”

“Surely, my sparrow isn’t getting cold feet.” He says with flair in his tone, then tilting his head.

You shake your head chuckling. “Not in a million years. I am just being the more logical out of the two of us. You know, thinking ahead and all.”

He can’t help the exhale that tumbles from tight lips. You drop the final cloth to the ground. You look away, grabbing the needle and thread, only to come back to his gaze filled with interest. Though you were still as you looked back at him, his eyes told you he wanted you to continue. You look down, preparing the thread. “The last port town we stopped in could have been the cause of today’s comeuppance. The looks we were getting…it’s like word is spreading fast. There’s no doubt in my mind that privateers will be the next obstacle.”

He hums in acknowledgment, thinking for a moment.

“The next one we go to, I think that we should plant fake rumors. Pay off bar owners or who else would look like they’d speak to some soldiers for coin.”

“We’re just going to have to pay double. And increase the watch on the ship.”

“That’d be the next step, yes.”

“See? I can be perfectly logical.”

You join him in his chaff. “Eh, for a moment.”

“Ouch.”

You catch a smile finally forming on his lips. It honestly takes you by surprise, but you welcome the sight regardless. Your chair slides closer for the next part. You place your hand on his chest with the other holding the prepped needle. You glimpse at him, and he looks back at you with a nod. The needle presses into his skin, only earning you a strong grimace from the captain. Whether it’d be he had gone through this many times before, or the rum kicked in, you were hopeful that it was just a combination of both—

“No one has searched for the Spring and made out alive.” He begins, looking over your shoulder as you bend down to focus on your hands. “That’s how the legend goes.”

You arch your brow guilefully. “But?”

Ais wavers, eyes finding themselves back on to you. “But we’ll find it. We'll be legends.”

The statement causes your hand to pause in its routine. You don’t notice how he tenses back up for the first time in minutes at your reaction. He watches your gaze scatter briefly before you decide to resume the stitching. Leaving you both to the sounds of the waves and the swaying ship.

You get most of the stitching done by the time he wants to speak again. “Do you trust me on that?”

By that time, you could feel the rum settled in your head. Once you pull the thread at another stitch, the words are properly readied on your tongue in a mutter. “More than anything.”

He remains silent. His eyes falter though he listens intently. “I wouldn’t trust my life with anyone outside this ship.” Your voice changes into a whisper. “But I wouldn’t trust my soul with anyone outside this room.”

Ais’s eyes widen, now observing you fully. Light dancing across your features from the fire with focus strongly evident on your face. The rum settled long when you got to your first stitch, but something told him that that didn’t even matter. He looks past you to his desk, to the mess of rags and numerous papers where he’s had all his findings on The Spring. Somehow, it now seemed a lot farther than it was. The man stares at it longingly, before turning to look at you. You reach the end of your work, eyes finding themselves back on his. Your head lowers. Taking the thread into your mouth and moving the hand on his chest, you cut it with your teeth. His eyes stay on you, watching prominently with an unreadable emotion.

You tilt your head at him, whispering. “What is it?”

He furrows his brows, parting his lips for the words seared in his head— only for them to be blurred together from the rum’s effects. Your breaths get deeper when you being to feel them as well. He glances down at your proximity. He could register that the two of you were fairly close, but couldn’t get himself care. And frankly, neither could you. Ais’s red eyes stay to yours. There was a clouded look with in them but on the other hand, they were determined to keep you as their only subject.

A dog suddenly bursts through the doors with an excited wag of her tail. Even if she was a slender long thing, she moved as if she was still a pup. The two of you jump at the loud boom. Ais immediately eases, however. “Come on, Princess.”

The dark animal trots over to the fireplace, getting herself comfortable as if she didn’t just scare the living shit out of either of you. You sigh, running hand through your hair with shut eyes. When you open them, you find Ais staring. Those words from before seem to tipsily fade away. The timing long gone and unable to regain from his perspective. From your perspective, you’d both forget what you said in the morning. And yet when he’s staring, you can’t help but soften. You notice his shoulders relax as well from your own looking.

Perhaps he would have told you that if he could, he’d let you command him in every way possible. Perhaps he would have said that you were the one thing he’s been able to count on and not be afraid of being left behind. That he’d trust you with his back, bare and exposed, knowing it would never be stabbed in betrayal. You were on this journey together, with you and your crew. Not one of them regretting their time under the captain’s lead.

If only he had listened to you when the journey came to an end, when it all fell apart.

#writing #ais x reader #ais x mc #ais touchstarved #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved game #pirate!au #pirate!ais #ais touchstarved x reader

[nvvacanesworld]

..••°°°°••..GREAT BLUE °°••....••°°

What if sirens were real and had the ability to make captains crash/sink their boats and their crew? Write from the perspective of a young sailor who survives a crash and interacts with one of the sirens

credit to @writers-potion for the prompt☼

♡pairing -Sailor!Gojo x Siren! Fem Reader!

♡content warning- Angst/No comfort, death, manipulation, starvation, satoru being stranded. she/her pronouns used Comment if i missed any please

♡word count-2,174

an- this took so long i’m sorry if it’s not perfect i haven’t proof read but i will later. Likes and reblogs and comments are appreciated, and if you like this feel free to follow me i’m trying to reach a goal of 100 followers :) or don’t it’s okay. I also like getting feedback just please be nice to me as i am a new writer ☮︎

it’s been seven days. seven days i’ve been stuck on this island. Seven days sense those things attacked me and my men. I don’t know how it happened. It’s like i was in a trance, she was pulling me towards her with her eyes. Oh those eyes, those beautiful ey- No Satoru Stop! Get your self together. I started slapping my face to wake up and get myself to stop thinking about her. Before i flipped the ship, i heard her, i swear i heard her whispering in my ear. She promised me power and riches if i would just jerk the wheel.

“Oh Satoru, listen to me brave sailor, riches beyond imagination await you. I can give you what you want, i just need you to trust me. Trust me Satoru”

Trust her? I looked forward and saw the most beautiful women i’ve ever seen looking at me. I didn’t care where she came from, I just wanted to see more of her.

“Yes my brave sailor, treasures only the bold can claim can all be yours”

“Tell me more please” I was so eager to know how i could attain this treasures. Looking out at the sea, the sun hitting my skin started to fade away making the once clear sky dark and gloomy, The once calm waters became more aggressive crashing into the side of my ship, but i hardly noticed, to focused on what this women, with her soft enchanting voice could possible mean, it’s like i couldn’t control myself. That’s was the only thing on my mind.

“Ancient jewels that shine brighter than the stars, Scales of the mightiest creatures that have ever lived, stronger than any metal or wood, The crown of the ruler of the sea Queen Asherah, with this crown you will gain the ability to breathe under water, we can see each other that way Satoru, i want you to see me, i want to see you”

Without a second thought i spoke

“I want to see you too, tell me how i can see you” I gripped the wheel tighter eager to know what i could do to attain these things that only are spoken of in folktales, things you hear about from your comrades while you watch the star in the sky dreaming about what you want to be.

Her voice sounded eldritch the next time she spoke, more sinister, different than the soft voice i had grown accustomed too

“Crash your ship”

What? My eye go wide but before i could think my mind goes back to the promise of hidden treasures, things that could make me the most powerful man to sail these dangerous waters, making me remembered for generations. Ignoring the warnings the waves gave me, I start to steer my ship closer to the sound of her voice. Where are you, how can i find you

As the ship goes deeper into the perilous waters, it feels like the water has an iron grip on my ship, making me and all my men shake with it.

“Captain what’s going on what are you doing?” One of my men shout at me, but i ignore him continuing on my path.

No matter what you do or how hard you fight you fight nature will always win

My ship flips succumbing to the oceans furry.

The last thing i remember is the screams of my men, begging for mercy, begging to live. And the scene of that same women and others attacking them as they struggled to keep themselves up, in that oh so unforgiving sea. And that soul wrenching song luring me to sleep.

I woke up in a sweat, jumping up from my position. How was i alive?

I’ve been stuck here for seven days waiting for anyone to notice that we never reached the port. Wandering around with no certain direction in mind. But the thing that irked me the most is i still wanted to see her. I don’t know what i would do if i happened to see her again. Maybe try to kill her to be honest. For what she made me do, or maybe she wasn’t even real and i did it myself.

My mind has been spiraling ever sense. As i kept walking i reached shore again. Great i went in a circle.

Falling onto the sand i felt the grains against my back prickling my skin. I was starving and hungry, only surviving off of the fruit that hung off the trees around me. I could feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness. This was it, i was going to die here. Right when my eyes were about close and my mind was about to fade into darkness. I heard her again.

“Oh Satoru, you look so hurt” she murmured in my ear. Her voice was so calming, oh so soothing i almost forgot how much i loathed her.

I got the toughness of steal and forced my body up and finally i saw her smiling at me.

“You…” I said with a strain in my voice glaring at her. She had so much nerve to smile in my face after that fucking mind control spell she cast on me. How could she be so confident? Standing so close to me in my reach like i won’t snap her neck and make her suffer the same fate as the men of mine she killed.

Without too much thinking i gather all the strength i can muster and lunge at her.

But she..she evaded me so gracefully, like she was dancing she twirled out my grasp, and i fell face first into the sand right in front of her like an idiot. I heard her laughing at me.

As i lay there defeated in the sand, she continued to laugh at me. That haunting melody that echoed in my ears caused my face to turn red. I couldn’t understand how she seemed so exquisite and untouched and calm by the chaos that she had caused. The tragedy she had caused. Struggling to my feet, my anger added fuel to the fiery flames that ignited in me at the sound of her mocking laugh.

“Why did you make me do it?”I growled not even bothering to wipe the sand sticking to my damp clothes “What even are you?”

Her laughter died out and she looked at me almost childlike her eyes looked so doll like.

“I am a Siren, Satoru. A creature of the sea, drawn to the deepest desires of men like yourself. Satoru your heart desired and sought after the most beautiful treasures, all the glory and for your name to be remembered for generations. I merely offered you what your heart desired”

Anger surged within me. “And at what cost? Where is all that now? After my crew is gone my ship has sunk, What do you even gain from all of this destruction?”

“Oh Satoru” There she goes again saying my name like that. “The sea demands its sacrifice, the sea doesn’t kneel for anybody, In return i bestow upon you the opportunity to come with me, Embraces the depths with you Satoru and wield the treasures your heart desires”

I hesitated, why did i hesitate, i was torn between the desires for revenge and the lingering allure of her vow. The lines between hatred and captivation started to blur. “Join you? After what you’ve done?”I croaked out my voice strained

Her expression softened, almost like she pitied me. I hated that. But the more i looked it almost looked like understanding “You may despise me now, but the sea has changed lots of peoples perspectives it has a way of doing that to people. Embrace the change and power i offer and you shall become something greater than you can imagine”

The conflict raged within me as i heard the waves crash, further echoing the turmoil in my mind. I yearned for vengeance, while another part of me felt drawn to her seductive promises she whispered. The siren extended her hand to me, an invitation to a destiny entwined with the depths of the sea.

“Do you choose the surface, where you will be stuck here forever wandering this very here beach because no one will come to save you Satoru i’m the only one who is here for you” Her voice got darker as she spoke it seemed she was getting angry but she quickly covered it up again “Or will you come with me, We can be together Satoru, i will make all your dreams come true” She was calm again looking at me with a glint in her eyes awaiting my answer. Why was she so bent on taking me with her, was she once like me ? Who are you?

A starange calm settled within me, the rage giving way to curios acceptance. I found myself reaching for her hand that she offered me. The decision made against the backdrop of the now calm sea. It’s like nature was playing into her hands. Our hands met, a surge of entertainment courses through me.

The world around us started to shift, and the island transformed into an otherworldly paradise. Vivid hues danced in the air, and the haunting melody of the sirens song resonated with a newfound lucidness. When i looked around me i felt a connection to the depths, an understanding that surpassed my former human limitations.

“You are now more than a mere sailor Satoru” she whispered from behind me. Her eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and compassion. “You are now part of the oceans songs, it’s powers”

As i embraced my transition and transformation. The memory’s of what now was my past life started to fade like distant echos. I didn’t harbor resentment for the shipwreck, or the loss of my crew. Instead a symbiotic relationship with the sea and with the siren unfolded before me.

In the depths i discovered the wonders that were promised to me. The ancient jewels that shimmered like the stars. Scales of mighty creatures that pulsed with raw strength, and the beautiful crown of the Queen Asherah. With the crown on my head the ability to breathe underwater became second nature. And the ocean unveiled is secrets to me. This is what power felt like.

The siren, whose named i learned was y/n, and i began to roam the depths together. She became more than the seductive creature who led me astray, she became my mentor, my friend, my lover. Our connection transcended the surfaces desires that once bounded us.

As time passed i lost track of how long i had been apart of this aquatic realm. But i embraced it with open arms leaving behind the limitations my once mortal existence gave me.

The sea, once a relentless force, had became my ally, my truth. And with the Siren by my side i embraced the desires of the sea and the destiny that awaited in the endless expanse of the great blue.

—

Years have passed and whispers of the mysterious island reached the years of adventurous souls who wished to see if these folk tales were true. A group of explorers, drawn by tales of lost treasures, set sails toward their destination.

As their ship anchored near the sand of the island, the explorers set foot on the sandy shore. The air carried an eerie feeling, and the wind seemed to whisper untold secrets. Among the group was a seasoned archaeologist named Dr.William was leading the group.

Their footsteps echoed through the abandoned remains of a shipwreck that looked like it was washed up on shore, a haunting reminder of a past that was long forgotten. They explored further, discovering footprints deeply etched into the sand, evidence of what once was someone’s existence.

Deeper into the sand they discovered a figure lying motionless on the beach. A gasp swept through the group as they walked towards the body.

“Is that Satoru?”

“Who is that?”

“He was that famous caption who sailed the seven seas, but when he was on his way back home, it was said his ship crashed and he was never found”

The group gasped shocked by the news of the incident.

His body was intact but lifeless.

Dr. William explained the scene “Starvation” She uttered. A somber realization. “He must have been stranded here for days and took his last breathe when he laidback on the sand”

The once vibrant and ambitious man laid there as mere shell his dreams and desires extinguished by the unforgiving nature of the island.

As the explorers gathered around his body they prayed and paid their respects, but right as they were getting ready to leave the heard a haunting melody and out of the corner of there eyes they could’ve sworn they had seen something, or rather someone, rise from the sea ready to confront the crew. The last thing they heard before they passed out was

“Oh Satoru, my brave sailor”

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO NVVACANESWORLD DO NOT STEAL MY WORK OR COPY MY WORK!!!

please and thank you :)

♡tag-list- :) @getosbabymomma @seeingivy

#nvvacanesworld #gojo satoru #x reader angst #angst #anime angst #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #fem reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #x black fem reader #jjk series #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #Satoru Gojo #Saturo x reader #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #jjk angst

[star-girl69]

My Heart Never Knows

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i suck at writing family shit but i swear y’all soon we’re gonna get to the good stuff i just gotta tie up this one last plot end but anyways there’s a little bit sprinkled in there so i hope you all enjoy!!

also this is gonna be heavily centered around lo’ak bc my baby deserves better ☹️

warnings: swearing, mention of blood, mentions of injury, mentions of drowning, mentions of death, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twelve- Hear Their Song

—-

“Y/N!”

You turn, something heavy in your heart, looking at your sister cutting through the throngs of people. She is only a few years older than you- why must she always be so bossy?

“Mother said to tell you dinner’s ready.” Your eyes flick to your friends- Kisre and a few other girls- but Kisre is the only one who stayed.

Your sister is known for her short temper and brash words, but everyone knows she will be a good tsahìk. She is already learning to master a tsaruk, and mother says her connection to Eywa is promising.

“Five more minutes?” you ask, looking back down to the string of seashells in your lap.

“No.”

“Please, Ronal!”

“It’s not me. Mother said dinner’s ready.”

“But-”

“Y/N.”

And you know that voice, and you know she is kinder to you than others, but every person has their breaking point. You stand, mumble your goodbyes to Kisre, and the walk back is silent.

“Why could she not get me herself?”

Your sister sighs, but she looks at you. Sees your wide eyes, small hands, short legs. You are just a child. Her small sister. Is it wrong to not want the world to corrupt you? Just for a little longer?

The sun is setting in front of you two, and Ronal grabs your hand. She doesn’t stop walking. She walks with you, into the setting sun.

“She is just busy,” Ronal decides on, but she knows the truth.

—-

Morning brings nothing but longing, but the feel that something is missing in your hammock.

Three days since it happened- three days of simple touches, longing looks in public, not enough, not enough.

It feels childish- but you need them like nothing before. Like a child getting it’s favorite toy taken.

But is it wrong? Wrong to want to be near them all the time, be their everything, throw caution to the wind and your heart in their heads? Wrong to think about them all the times, hands and lips and hips and a thousand little deaths in your stomach?

You mated with them, in the most beautiful pace, in the rawness of the world, Eywa as your witness, and the union isn’t supposed to be like this.

Not supposed to be secret.

But you are scared. Scared to tell Ronal, tell the clan. Scared to tell their children.

Jake traces his fingers along your face, tries to memorize each slope and slip, tells you that his children think him a hypocrite. He tells them not to fight, yet he goes out and does it himself?

He blames it on you with a smile, tells you that you make him toss aside the world- stupid things like consequences, which Neytiri snorts at- but he knows why his children feels that way.

So, you give them time. It is only three days, but you swear you have grown ten years with how much you have worried.

You know them in a general sense, their interests, likes and dislikes, simple things. You don’t know them like a parent knows them. Can you ever?

The sky caves in on you the entire day, waiting until night falls, until another day closer- but the air is changed. It is no longer filled with your refusal, it is your acceptance that permeates the air.

You are a ship at sea, lost and without a sail, rolling around in search of a lighthouse. But Neytiri and Jake fill your mind’s eye, and suddenly a light is shining bright.

And you realize- there is no more journey. No more unsteady water, rough and unpredictable waves. Smooth sailing, as long as you are at your port, as long as you are next to them.

—-

“I feel like a child.”

“Why?” Neytiri asks, brushing sand from your hair, even though you are on the beach, and it will get dirty again. She just wants to touch you.

“Sneaking around- acting like we aren’t…” you trail off, the words still feeling foreign, still making you blush. Only three days since, and you are still a mess.

“That we are… mates?”

“Yes,” you blush, look away from her, back out onto the horizon. Jake swims with the children, while you and Neytiri rest on the beach. You feel weird, intruding like this. No matter what Jake says, you cannot be apart of their family if their children don’t know.

But, if the children see anything wrong with you tagging along, they don’t say anything. Neytiri says they all like you, and you like them as well, but you don’t know if they like you enough to be their mother.

“Jake is still a fool.” Neytiri’s words are blunt, but you’ve grown used to it. You don’t flinch, close your eyes instead. Sun on your face. Light on your face. Guided already- to here. “I say we tell them quick, yes? But he insists- tell them slowly. I want to wake up with you next to me, my Y/N.”

You stomach flips- and your ribs don’t ache.

You feel loved, whole and happy, and it’s so different from what you’re used to.

“Well,” you start, because they keep encouraging you to have a say, but you’re cut off.

“Mom!” Tuk shouts, running up from the shallow water, kicking sand up. “Mom!”

You see the red on her knee from feet away- a small cut, it will heal on its own.

“Oh, no, Tuk,” Neytiri says, opening her arms for the little girl. Tuk sits, tears and seawater running down her face, back to Neytiri’s chest.

You watch them for a moment, wonder if you can imagine Tuk ever running to you like that.

Neytiri shoots you a look, and you quickly spur into action, not wanting to anger her. You know she just wants the best for everyone.

She has told you, how you have to step up, be something to them, because they won’t give you up and they won’t give their children up. Can’t. And you aren’t mad with them, because you just admire that love.

“Can I see?” you ask, sitting up and shuffling over on your knees. Tuk nods, and you cup your hands around her knee, keeping it steady. “Oh, this looks like it hurts a lot. You must be very brave, no?”

You look up at Tuk, see Neytiri smile at you, and Tuk nods, tears fading.

“Is it alright if I help with the pain? A trick my sister taught me,”

Neytiri nudges her, and Tuk looks a little apprehensive, but mumbles a small yes.

You smile, feel like this is a break in the ice, the opening to something new.

You lean down, suck in at the air near her knee, then lean back and blow the air out.

Silence for a moment, until the sound of Tuk laughing fills the air.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore!” she shouts, looking at her knee in awe. “Thank you, Y/N!”

And all you can do is smile.

—-

“-and I saw a purple fish, and then I skimmed by knee, but Y/N made the pain go away!”

“Really?” Jake asks with a smile, thinking of that storm of a woman, his storm of a woman, his. It’s surreal. He feels like he is dreaming, like he will wake up any moment. He just hopes that he wakes up with the memory of her lips on his. “She’s very nice, right?”

“I love her!” Tuk proclaims, smiling before taking another bite of her food. Neytiri laughs, placing a hand on Tuk’s head, before looking fondly at the space between her and Jake.

And Jake feels it to. Her absence. It feels wrong that she isn’t here to listen about Tuk’s recounting of the day, isn’t here roll her eyes when Jake will inevitably say something stupid again.

He is sure it is written all over his face, his long for, his need. Is it wrong to be consumed by her? He doesn’t think so. But, regardless, the three of them are falling into it together. Navigating these choppy waters, finding their port in all of this.

But also- Jake feels like this is already it. Destination in sight, all he needs is for her to be closer. All he needs is to get over his fears.

“Yeah. You all like Y/N, right?”

He ignores Neytiri’s burning stare, instead waiting for the children’s reactions.

“Yeah.” Lo’ak swallows, looking at Jake oddly. “Tsireya and Ao’nung talk about her a lot.”

“Mhm. She’s nice,” Neteyam agrees. It is obviously that Jake’s eldest son has picked up on something, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Well, I love her. And you two know it, you just don’t wanna admit it. I bet you two dream about the cookies she made that Tsireya gave us.”

The table dissolves into his children bickering, and Jake can’t be bothered. He’s used to the sound of a loud house, but there is one voice missing. One voice he needs.

—-

“Lo’ak?”

When Tsireya told you, all you felt was fear. You’re proud of Lo’ak as you would be anyone in your clan.

He is brother of tulkun, and you know how amazing that is, and you love your soul sister- but Tsireya’s words slowly faded when you remembered that the tulkun haven’t returned from their migration.

The only tulkun that would still be in these waters would be- outcast. Alone.

When she tells you the name, you swear you feel faint.

But she is still your sweet niece, experiencing her first love, navigating unknown waters much like you. In your supposed duty to the clan, you had pushed everyone away when you tried to push Jake and Neytiri away. But, like the tide, they just came back.

“Lo’ak!” you call, and he turns. The paths between the mauri is quiet, and it is growing late, sun setting behind Lo’ak.

He nods, and you can see the confusion on his face, but you simply slap a bright smile on.

Tsireya confided in you, and you are stupid, and can’t keep your mouth shut.

“Do not be mad. But- I know about Payakin.”

“What?” he hisses, scowling, mind adrift.

“Don’t be mad, Lo’ak,” you plead, because Tsireya wants you to help him, because she doesn’t want to lose him. Besides, you want to help him. You want to bond with him. “I am not mad.”

“You- you shouldn’t know.”

“But I know.” You take a deep breath, scrambling for the script you had conjured in your mind. “I- I am the sister of a tulkun, and I love her so dearly, and I know, Lo’ak, I know. But Payakin-”

“It’s different-” he interjects, but you grab his hand, cool in yours, hold it tight. It’s odd, the feeling of the extra finger, but you find you don’t mind.

“Payakin is a killer. His song is one of violence. Listen to what the waves sing, don’t ignore them-”

You can feel his skin heating in yours, see the flush of anger in his neck.

“It’s not like that, you don’t know-”

You sigh. He is like his father, strong heart, thick head. “You’re not listening to me, Lo’ak. You will get hurt, he is a killer.”

He looks at you for a moment, shaking his head, two braids swinging, and you see yourself in him so clearly. The silence is deafening, and you feel something growing in it.

“When I was younger,” you squeeze his hand, even though it is limp in yours, “I almost drowned because I swam during a storm, because I was young and stupid. Don’t be like me, Lo’ak.”

“You’re nothing like me,” he says, but there is a wistfulness, something in his voice that makes you think otherwise.

You feel like you are fading, withering under his words. You thought he had known too, that the two of you were so similar, but you suppose not. Your voice is quiet when you speak. “What am I like?”

He squares his shoulders, stands tall.

“Good. Better. I can see why my parents like you so much- you are the exact opposite of me.”

“Lo’ak-”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N.” He drops your hand, and it is like whatever invisible string was spun falls. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t tell my parents.”

And he is running off before you can stop him, and you feel like you’ve seen this before, because he is heading towards the setting sun.

—-

taglist:

@sully-stick-together @corrupt-cadaver420 @jadynchronicle @imthefunniestpersonalive @fangil101 @mashiromochi @rey26 @soothinghummerz @myheartfollower @pwallettes @melodykisses @ghoulfiendz @fanboyluvr @itsyaspwr @khaleesihavilliard @capbrie @nothingfuninthislife @faceaeter @thetrashindrakensroom @makeup-stuff-and-such @my-dearest-agent @miyamuraaaa @xoxovienna @arschbohrer @amazingaries @ssc7514 @milf-lover-23 @w3ird11 @littlexscarletxwitch @tiajk @kuldren @blackgirlwriting @tojigirl @trulyrogers @aeslenya @3okutos-3ig-toe @peterparkeeperer @ambria @homeispandora @hxgemxscles @ripnevillestrevor @amiets2 @reallysparklychaos @ok-boke

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

[faeriichaii]

Hello! Could I have a request for kili x fem reader where reader is a pirate and her and her crew capture him and the others and there's some interest between kili and reader? 🤭Ty!

My Treasure ~ Kili x Fem!Pirate!Reader

A/N: Omg listen I have seen the request like the day you sent it to me and I love love love the idea!! Ngl I had so much fun writing this and like I love him so much and the fact that she is a pirate ugh I love it!!!! I really hope you like it cause I really loved writing this <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.8k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Amrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You have been travelling the sea for years on your wonderful ship with your crew, so you are a bit curious, when you find a bunch of dwarves hiding away in fish barrels.

Waves clashed against the ship, as the crew merrily sang a song they have made up during the travels on the sea. You have been on this ship with your crew for years. On the way, you have built yourself the reputation as one of the most fearless pirates known across the world. “Captain, there is a small boat crossing our path. What should we do?” You took your telescope from the leather holster on your hip. Looking through it, you saw a small boat filled with around 14 barrels travelling somewhat in your direction. “Let’s approach the ship slowly and see if it is worth the trouble.” “Aye aye Captain!” Your crew began to hoist the sails while you kept an eye out for the ship. As you got closer to the little boat, your crew threw a few lassos to pull the smaller ship towards your own.

“Kidd, take care of the ship while I have a little chit chat with the fisherman.” You said, walking towards the railing, taking a rope and swinging toward the other ship. A smirk formed on your lips, as you let your fingertips wander from one barrel to another. “So many barrels. What does a lonely man need so many barrels for?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “I am just a mere fisherman, trying to go to Laketown. The barrels are filled to the brim with fish, I doubt a Captain like yourself would be in dire need of these.” The man tried to reason with you, making you rise an eyebrow. “What makes you think I wouldn’t be in need of fish? You see my dear friend,” A slight hint of mockery was visible in your voice, as you put a hand on the unknown man’s shoulder. “I am the captain of this very beautiful ship and if you haven’t already noticed, we are pirates.” You gave him a fake smile as you gently squeezed his shoulder. “And as pirates we really don’t work you know? We take what we want and we take it when we want to. But I feel quite generous. How about we take around hmm let’s see…”

You took a glance at each of the barrels. “We will take half of them.” You announced while removing your hand from his shoulder and winking some people from your crew down so they could carry them to your ship. As they started to lift the barrels, the top of each of them sprung open as the dwarves rushed out from between the fish. Your eyes widened in surprise, before pulling out your sword. “Well, this is interesting. Didn’t knew that fishermen nowadays also catch dwarves in the sea.” You said as your sword clashed against another one of the dwarves. “It also isn’t every day, that a pretty pirate lady tries to kidnap us.” The dwarf in front of you gave you a wink. A little laugh escaped your lips. Maybe you will actually have a little fun with them. “Do you normally flirt with people you fight with?” You ask him, pushing his sword away. Most of the dwarves’ weapons were laying on the wooden floor as their hands were up in the air. Pointing the tip of your sword at the one in front of you, he smiled at you while raising his hands up as well. “I only do with the ones that are extremely beautiful and take my breath away.” A soft blush dusted your cheeks as you smiled gently at him.

“Captain, what should we do with them?” “We will take them as our captives. Maybe they will share their stories with us.” The crew bound each dwarves’ wrists tightly, before heaving them on board. Turning around, you look at the man who tried to smuggle them into Laketown. “I’m not part of their company.” He said, raising his hands up. “Fair enough. Have a safe journey to Laketown.” Turning around, you grasped one of the ropes and ascended up onto your own ship. “You let him go Captain?” Kidd, your closest woman on the ship, asked you flabbergasted. “I thought you knew me by now? I normally don’t hold prisoners on the ship and he himself said he was not part of the company.” Kidd raised an eyebrow at your explanation. “But why did you take the dwarves captive?” The question made you ponder for a moment. You yourself weren’t entirely sure. Maybe it was your curiosity that made you tie them up and put them under the dock. “I guess I am just interested in their little life story and why they were trying to smuggle into Laketown.” You explained to her, as she led you to the cells, in which the dwarves were sitting in angrily.

“We tried to separate them as much as possible, however we only have so many cells.” She pointed at the four cells. Some of them were filled with three and some with four dwarves. And one Hobbit. A Hobbit? You tilted your head, as you approached the cell, where the hobbit sat on the small bed. “Why is a hobbit travelling with 13 dwarves?” You asked aloud. One of the dwarves in the cell walked towards you, grabbing the bar as he leaned as close as possible towards you. “It is none of your business.” He spat, as he gave you a glare. Tilting your head to the side you smiled at him. “Big words from a guy behind bars.” You mocked him. A few dwarves around you starting to protest at your rudeness towards their king. King? “Oh, so you are the king? Well then, I think we can arrange a little chit chat to discuss the price of your freedom.” A sweet smile formed on your lips, as you awaited an answer from him. Seconds passed and he didn’t say anything. “I will leave you for now. Think about my offer while I am gone.” You said, skipping up the small stairs to get back onto the main deck of the ship.

Hours passed and night arrived, hence you were travelling down to the prisoners’ quarters with bowls of food in your hands. You handed them out one by one, until you passed the last bowl. “Thank you, my stunning pirate princess.” Looking up from the food in your hand, you looked at the dwarf in front of you. The same one that flirted with you while fighting against you. The one that piqued your interest the most. “Well, isn’t it nice to see you again…” You trailed off, waiting for his name. “Kili.” “Kili. A cute name for a cute dwarf.” A chuckle left his lips, as he set the bowl aside. “Do you always flirt with the captives, you hold under your ship?” He asks, smirk gracing his lips. “Only with the ones that seem to really catch my attention.” You say, leaning on the wall beside the cell. He held onto the bars of his prison, trying to be closer to you.

His brown eyes glimmering in the soft candlelight. “Say, what makes you want to release us from this prison?” He asks, mirroring your stance in his small temporary room. “I wanted to discuss that with your king, however he really doesn’t want to cooperate with me.” A small fake pout formed on your lips. “Aren’t you a lucky girl? I happen to be his nephew. Prince Kili, at your service.” He bowed quickly, before straightening up again. You giggled at the gesture. “Well, prince Kili, my name is Captain (Y/N). It is wonderful to make your acquaintance.” Doing a curtsy, the both of you smiled at each other. You really begin to enjoy his company. “Captain (Y/N), I would like to know what you would like in order to receive our freedom back.” “It is very simple. All I want to know is about your journey and your destination. Why were you trying to smuggle into Laketown in fish barrels? What is the purpose of your visit? All these things.” You said, now also holding onto the bar of the cell. “Sit down Amrâlimé, it is quite the story.”

You listened intently at each word Kili muttered, as he told you the story of Thorin Oakenshield and his company. How they have encountered mountain Trolls, Orcs and Elves. And how they want to fight back against the dragon Smaug, who was living rent free in their home. “That indeed is quiet the story.” You say as you pulled yourself up with the help of the bars. Kili looked at you expectantly, almost as if he wanted to know if he managed to free the company. “We will arrive very close to Laketown tomorrow. Take one of the boats, maybe two, we have strung on the side of the ship. Find your little friend from earlier today and fight for your home.” You smiled softly at him, as he gave you a wide grin. Warmth spread through your body, as his hands covered yours. “Thank you so much Amrâlimé.”

As the next morning arrived, you opened up the cells as promised and gave the dwarves a few more rations of food, as well as other resources. You helped them onto the boats, until it was time to say good bye to Kili. “It was very nice to talk to you and listen to your story Kili. I really enjoyed it.” A smile graced your lips. Kili took your hands gently in his. “I will search for you as soon as we get our home back, I promise you.” He said, his eyes glimmering with hope and sincerity. You gasped softly at his confession, holding a little tighter onto his hands. “I hope so my prince.” Suddenly he put his hand on the back of you neck and pulled you down to him, connecting your lips. His stubble scratched against your cheek, as you tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck. The call of Kilis name made the both of you depart from each other. Stepping onto the last boat, the dwarves began to row into the direction of Laketown. You waved at their departure. “I will find you Amrâlimé, even if I have to travel across the whole sea for you.” Kili suddenly shouted. Who would have thought that a pirate captain would get so easily swooned over a dwarven prince?

#kili #kili durin son #kili the hobbit #aidan turner #fili #kili and fili #kili x reader #the hobbit imagines #fantasy #fanfic #fluff #x reader #kili durin #thorin #bagginshield #just a little bit #kili the dwarf #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #kili x you #kili durin x reader #hobbit fic #fem reader #kili x fem!reader #kili imagine #kili fanfic #kili fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfic

[gryphis-eyes]

⊙ ἀγάπη

" Unable to perceive the shape of You, I find You all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with Your love, It humbles my heart, For You are everywhere. "

⊙ Welcome to this Shape of Water love reading, yes I finaly took my balls and make a love pac hehehe this reading isn’t truly a prediction its more of an assumption about what your ideal partner would be based on your present self but you can technically see this reading as a way to confirm who your next partner would be y’know. It was supposed to be longer but I decided to do it chill since im still a bit rusted lol but I really miss being active on tumblr. For more explaination, the ”core card” is found by additioning the numbers of the cards you picked with Lenormand, for me its a card that show the core/hidden part of a reading but you can use this method in other ways.

◇ Deck used : Rider Waite (only court cards), Lenormand

Masterlist ⊙

 

🜄 Pile 1  

♤ Key, book, ship 【core : coffin】

Court card : king of cups

They seem like someone who’s heart and mind are often clashing but despite it they are quite emotional intelligent, by this I mean that they might be very emotional by nature but they did learn to manage their emotions OR they take an intellectual approach to their feelings, is it a good thing or not ? Well its up to them because this kind of behavior can become toxic for themselves but i got a lot of cards who refer to them being very intelligent. They probably follow a specific philosophy or are into litterature in general, there is this dark academia vibe to them. Very hardworking, full of knowledge but never got enough at the same time, they got bof ”personal intelligence” and academic intelligence, talking to them about various subject must be a great experience for sure. Their intelligence and serious aspect make them quite sensual people might often look at them even if they dont seem to care about other’s look they seem introverted to me. Its like if someone stopped them to compliments them they would be a bit awkward like ”uh? Thank you I guess?”. Very INTP vibe. To be honest I was persuaded that I'll pick the King of Swords to them because of their vibe but not, its the King of cups with the Coffin as the core card so we got someone who have a cold exterior and keep their good side to themselves and to a very close group of people. They have been through tuff situation in their life, would I dare say that they might have experienced depression ? I see them as a melancholic King of cups, imagine an King alone on a cliff looking at the sea, so many thoughts are passing by from a strange theory about a myth to a sad realisation that they are indeed, a hopeless lover. Seems like someone needs to go under that shell to see their true self and heart (but not in a savior way, y’know).

🜄 Pile 2  

♤ Mouse, whip, house, 【core ; whip】

Court card : queen of pentacles

Your ideal partner seem to be... interesting for sure, when I took the first cards I was a bit worried but the last one put the pieces togheter. Basically you got someone who ready to risk it all just to have a quiet and comfy life in their house (the house can also symbolise your relationship), listen to Faith from Karen Aoki the lyrics match them but most importantly for the one who get the reference from where the song come from you might understand the reading in a quite twisted way haha. The character who’s listening to this song is a pretty bad person with a very clean and kind exterior. Of course im not saying that your ideal partner is 100% this character but they remind me of him because he goes as far as killing people to have his quiet life but your reading is LESS extreme haha it just reminded me of him a lot in a softer way. Your ideal partner might even had broken many hearts because they know what they worth and what they want in life and in love, probably even in work and we got an other hopeless lover. They are so focused on perfection that sadly, they became pessimistic wether its because things are too slow, they are faaar from their ideal life or just sometimes they ask themselves if they are good enough or ask for too much in the end but it doesn’t last long since they will quickly get a reminder to not make the bar lower. However when they finally get something wether its a person an animal or an object they take extremely good care of ”it” they are very nurturing and caring, probably got a sweet voice (and touch ?). Once they settle its for the long run, I get something  that they might need a reminder of not being too possessive with their partner because of course a partner is an other human being you can’t predict everything they would do, its the sad truth even the most loving wife can turn into a backstaber (that’s an exemple of course) they are probably terrified of the idea of being cheated on. Especially since they seek their ideal life it probably attract people with the intention to take and disappear. They need a big hug if you want my opinion they probably got some hard time with family and people while growing up. They need love and they know it.

🜄 Pile 3

♤ Sun, cross, Fox, 【core ; bouquet】

Court card ; King of wands

Alright you got the incarnation of the sun here, a golden person ! Very charismatic (and they know it) they make the room light up and when they smile the world is illuminated (I'll stop give it to their ego now). Your ideal partner’s personality remind me of Giorno from jjba. The big light of the sun is balanced by the cross and the fox who add some shade in a good way. Life have been hard on them and so they had to be a fox to survive, sneak their way into situation maybe even got to have jobs that they hated just to get enough money to escape their nasty place. Despite still having a hard time in life they keep up and seem to be always in all of their glory, they are a true born leader and dont mess around. I think if you try to trick them you'll fall from high ground since they are used to hardship nothing can stop them and their heart of gold will always feed their inner flame ! Like the sun they shine bright but alone, despite being great leaders they also do well alone and seem to value those hermit period. People might always say that they are about to fail or that their situation look doomed but you know what ? Even if its need to have some failed attempt they always end up wining,  like I said they are very determined and probably stubborn about their goal. Its someone that you can trust. They got the vibe of the movie Fantastic Mr.Fox, maybe they put a lot of effort into being impressive for ”the public”? Like if someone tell them they can’t do something they will be like ”oh really?” and end up doing this thing better than necessary. Its nice, its amazing but they need some rest and to stop feeling the need to show off all the time haha they know their limit and their worth so they know how to chose their battles, simply because of those things it look like they are always wining.

#tumblr did everything in its power to stop me from posting it #pick a card #gryphis #pick a pile #love pick a card #ideal partner

[cipheramnesia]

I think a good idea for a siren would be something enormous, perhaps 100 or so odd feet long, something of a sea serpent mermaid. She swims deep deep down in the darkest parts of the water and her terrible voice helps her locate and stun her prey, which ranges from giant squid to krill but most of all she loves to eat jellyfish, and her mouth is a writhing mass of nematocysts, almost guaranteed to kill with a single kiss.

She spends most of her time lazily sunning herself on isolated islands, where birds and crabs wander over her thick flesh to pick it clean of parasites and various small invertebrates trying to grow on her. When she is being cleaned she hums a happy little tune which generations of sea birds and other scavenging creatures have memorized, carrying her voice far across the ocean where her innocent song drives humans mad and lonely. The unfortunate sailors leap to their death from their ships, or turn crazed knives on their land bound friends. The sound comes and goes on strange winds and stranger tides, madness called by the moon and the sun and the stars.

But for herself she knows little of the tiny world and its small men. She lives and loves between ocean currents, and is happy enough with the sun and the subtle sting of jellyfish twixt her teeth. Some men claim to see her fast form in the glassy green, but men say many things staring long enough at sea. She swims too deep for such petty stories.