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libidomechanica · 3 months

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A curtal sonnet sequence

Where they discours’d upon you. Sweeping, eye- earnestly said, he rosemary we take, and dipt his rosy children of thy worthlesse ware; too long upon her bed, across the blood left his you nursed of a winter reckoning yields; a honey tongueless, know me. The fetish boutique, those million times more noble nature of heavenly features dear. Give rest, or the fayre? I curst thee will; bearing the hand: Ah! Or they might I use it?

Mine was fain to follow it upon you. Gin it beares; makes me tired of the night I feel this sad mortal blemishe may hap full sailes drowne not all unworthy. And all that bottomless cup. What did perfume the pipe is never cries; thou bear’st the horn, when the door, lonely sea. As if to flee—I started up, when shee the horns of Elfland faint with her resign; and weed. Watch out for power, and the mountains; and weary eye.

But yet in vaine things, with those sweet Peona, his swift moment before me like a fish. Ah, dreams that for the many that amazing field that I were dead! And a’ his companies nimbly began dancing o’er the other vice content, and trachyte, till their tongue would wander’d of its load of blessed. Still I remember you appear like one who would shiver the happy at their voices called to a final end, purification bites.

That e’en thy cheeke, to be seen where’er the woman’s could unlace the stubborn earth, if it disdain’d its beak over the world of reason that we must not be foes. My lassie o’ my head, crowned lip, and still have seemed a hollow, from the crack pipe—the attention spent, three till now; and then two, until frustration set and knee-high tube socks that one Will’ to boot, and the dews were made a wafu’ moan; fair Annie’s corpse lay a boar- spear keen.

By Loue were athirst in soul to see another night to the wine, worne of Paramoures. Radiant Sister of war to come, if it were sat Endymion! What couldn’t be kissing on wanton heart. Thou wast to fa’! And true’ is all mysterious entice my stumblings and Lovers are just new, and rather beholds the ships of moulted feathery whizzing of their steps trod the upper floors, old voices to the fierce inscription on them.

And by their power, how with your patron; over thighs, thick with blackly darkned mind, which gaping like a tulip on a wedgewood plate Anything in dreams that did perfume the queen o’ womankind, and ne’er a ane to peer her. Fair creatures once so dead and pale a stump, a clapper tongues: full casks are every face or name; so in a voice in that together for so they are but in the dove may murmurs of the answer, dying.

And wha will be crush’d away within themselues did seem only one in this fair Day, whilst other place the beauty. Need him as something that you esteemed us not: in true speech no mouths would bar, my heart is a kitten of butter, I am not all, as parts, can see but fortune may be my babe’s father, he will outlive my hand? Into Elysium; vieing told about old forests; while the one who surrenders, survives.

Not I caught thee will; bearing the shape of beauty’s angel waiting food, at length, to take in draughts of Cupids skies, whose million of little boy, pissing me. See, where I print my poetry, I most high fane? Of mute insensate thing repels thee,. I am shamed that heaven raining presently unmew my soul; and shar’d their plenteous store of newest joys upon a child there stood a marbles ever beauty’s angel pure and clear.

On the den of helpless divine, is lying at the chance to death, who see with universe: nothing I did seem only one in the world doth live, as thought, with music stricken eagle to th’ other provocation in thee oft, I pitie now thy case, blind-hitting of its quality: how light faint fare-thee-wells, and orbed drop of light: beside her—the streams into o’er-head clouds. Soon was her mind; neither at morn or ever.

Weigh down some one else. So wingedly: when wearied on my passion strive which that Muse stirr’d in little wing! Daisies, vermeil rose hie and gowden locks and syne he kiss’d her round about: weel, sine that right the breathe away again, only to see another’s otherness. That tollbooth windowes ope, then yong, his pinions wide. Of my hart, I do any wish it may bring good! To her; and the boat whose weake confused brain: be still shine bright.

The primordial climb, a dream, then look I death may she die! ’Tis tatter’d; leaving, in naked sky, till with the citizens’ applause with thy drowsy wing a triple hour, but renovates and roared before have I brought the brine with my car. Hear us, O satyr flies for one hour more completed for our souls did nip her mothers? Their yelps: high-strung Anthee, the whispers, glooms, the deid of tears; and I will bind thy attention’s plight.

Fair Annie, Annie, ’ the bays of seas assigned to knit my soul; and shaping vision fleeting, and saying from a stag. The city. Brought to thee mine eye and has my heart, has she to feel it strange, and I myself so wary as tender corn anger our searching will be thy loued lasse forlorne? ’Mong which seemes ease to man. And she said; she said; she said, I am aweary, aweary, oh God, that weaves express’d I hurried in.

Thrown of them is alive, not though soon the Prince’s love were riding the fire, of love. At the winds: rain-scented eglantine gave the lakes, but let vs homeward: for night— did you great Pan! Whoever hath he skill to my fancied sight, as flies hovered in a thousand years, for the matted turf he kept unused, the which I’ll fall, with my breast; and in her hame. And giving up his aged hands, that’s how you’ll fling you young son in her face.

The wooing sun; the woman’s fallen divinity upon an even pedestal with your age, repeyreth hoom from people apart. That footstep of lost liberty! Round her who still we shines bright as those region where falling those that thou dasht? And the sun has rolled and it has no been the world’s dusky brink. Their fountains, and with purple blossoms to thy healthier brain, he said; she wept my fault! King express’d I hurried in.

Blow, and travelling of beauty charms, and dash’d the sun’s purple grapes and mouth with the ocean; the woman laughter settled as it narrowed to the after being hidden, laugh to make so many eyes, nor for these, a world of other plagiarist; I know not, cannot hear the subway jerks, I love speech no mouths would swim in it invariably drowns, where the calm of mute insensate thing upon earth the deer’s tender voice was run!

Nor do like Lords whispers low, again I’ll brush came close exposures: poorly-mounted countenance; he seems no better twere my bonie breasts, tired of being a woman smokes an idol show, since we have meant, but do not love, I am becoming a hermit, opening those million poutings of delight. Will no fair beseechers kill; think all but one, and sing this ditty to his change, in sleep o’er-power’d in western bower.

(For I was a bird-understand an end. It’s very music of the last wave by, crying head, until it scarce to mark the dry grass. Great pittie is, he be in love be call’d to taste of what they by Loue directed, enterchangeably reflection, but truly write, and I shall bloom paled gently for slight takes in that amazing field that heaven’s air in ilka quartered, flares like any other sides were touched, I’d grow old.

And set my tree that time thou madest me to blaze her words your waste, the beauty displaid. Outside, the western border of the gift of praise. Are richer entangled caves, echoing grottos, full of sweet sister flowery band to me such nights as the rounding grace of heart doth inuite some monstrous precipice: therefore, ’tis vain to hide true torment you shalt not be for Annie of Lochroyan at my heart, would show you’re loved us.

No mouths would that is old, and yet, because their ripen’d fruitage; yellow hair, and I from your plane, imagining a triple hour, when he saw fair Annie of Lochroyan, as the altar, with an emerald plane sits Diotima, teaching for the lawn or up then should be to my father. Take thy breast; and oh, Sirs, could cull: wild thyme, and weed. She always, that you esteemed us not: in true speech, faine would have seemed the congregation.

And o’er it many, round and thee; depending from book myche to deal with thee her lie within dreaming. You say I love not I caught and this mane, she seem’d, to common gender and an alas! Before my verse in the door! All day I think, my pretty pleasaunt Pipe, whych made vs meriment, he wylfully hath broke, and let this middle of a brook,—whose shining eye could scan a lurking troubled your swelling my bark bar’d and pure.

She drew her care. The other clutch, and wisdom are not so brightly dreams, and Sops in wine, we change is my love may betray small depth bottomless. One day the third—the authentic foundress you. My secrets of the genuine apparition of Apollo’s pipe, whence, from the knots. My life shall cease; whether snow really does resemble the earth had faded: deepest shades were dead! The spheres did banish, in his nether side; pitying!

The salt sea strands with such a thankfull palatable; and a hazy light rustling down in our near-dwellers with my care. Bed of roses, but rejoiceth with their foreheads, lowly bending, for long in desire, that chiding strange, and braider grew this fair doth thus did spredde, it did him amaze. The gloomy shades, sequestered them on their ends denied, and live here awake, and flush themselues did spredde, it did him amaze. The band.

Wild echoes flying south but longed to follow it upon sand which that hand, therefore we combing hand can’t take a body talking, and that sweete aire which shall be my love, nor can integrity our end were not, then yong, his pinions shook; or, it may be sayd, I say, all my argument, fair, kind, and sing this ditties bene for peace of heart. Such for a chosen bow: and, which makes earth was drinking the gate, and yet, love Gregory!

Sweet Melissa shook her darkness from yesterday and by the ingle sits, an’ wi’ her lot to bear love’s might blessedness. Down by his gore, he thrust it through the buffeting north that grows upon the rest complains of sweet grief itself to death, who still breed, had joys for it anew revive; inspired and each pleasantly to a wide lawn, see all. Burns: she’s the queen o’ womankind, and the sequoia swallowed by a man who fled.

Against the glenne: so now fayre Rosalind hath bred hys smart, so now his frend is neuer good newes know: is it now? Upon the mountain pine, o forester divine, a fellowship with essence of blisse, and did curse over the Arrow-head. To the learne; thinke on thy sweet than think I may dare, in wayfaring, to meet his brothers and though the citizens’ applause of Great, who should blaze like a mummy, and moon, that goes unloved.

And quartered, flares like angry words come help the birth of light: from the new Heaven hie, come tomorrow, are we dreamy house, the anchor o’ the gusty shadow, but make no noise at all? I find you have come to know thou dost know ourself or face with ourself the spot they sometimes discover, and the dead ere day. To take or less by thy music all the world’s praise, which makes water drink, pouring unto us from the dry grass.

And Ermines white, of mingled bubblings and poppied corn; the lark was low, and running shorts. So unrecorded did it slip away, in your own vallies white throat in a crevice peer’d about: weel, sine that later, hands repelling. Blow, bugle; answer came she was born in Bethlam? I call it that: disarming disregard—a loud Hawaiian-print shirt and faintly bruit, where they going the flowers and when the shadow of things.

In passing here thou thyself the shadow of a bullet tearing looks: alway his the worldly bustle, to make me mourned at his gore, he thrust out his golden anniversal tinge of running rings frae our fingering moments after, through the bushes, to the after party? Good God, the third— the authentic foundress you. Straying about the louder roar’d their memories, and overshadoweth eternal whispering bed.

Of the cruel breathing. Of unseemly, seeketh not, she saw fair Annie’s bark a rowing all around like a vision fleeting, and how shall stir no sighs but since my eyes at once, through he from thou smiles? I’ll get me home returning to the horizontal sun heave his breast of secret grief and pity joined us. Old joys no date nor age no need to say this: I fell into nothing, I said, The night, waking she knew: her answer.

But if that same night, and like a rolling pin, over calves, polished as leather, down toward you, and is kind of monster to clear well. I must be within; for her! For the mask I would that love hath more expression by the thundered greatly, knowingly; as does the very face or name; so in a sloping means falling through the bushes, and many a dying fish; the very marge, with smiles to-day failing down close of death, but paine.

Of many moment’s good after lightning. The peninsula tilts its goblet: she did not what Loue decreed: at length, to take what they said ’twas even now for ever. But at push-pin half sleep i watch the queen o’ womankind, that ilka body to it, give, when the cool and bursts of space. And I lost my mind might have we not match her will wed sorrow to persuade a yielding up, a cradling on the spoons and cauld, Gregory!

’ She saw fair Annie, deare, this notice the brindled bitch, the blue-bells light: from the grass; man’s voice, when the mountain wind bluster’d marish- mosses crept sluggishly by, ere more been the wide in the old—born cycle. Or more interested in thee oft, I pitie now this, now thus early risen she met wi’ a hushion; her tears, and the brake. ’ Siller will give your friends, because known, nor am I Mary Magdalane, was born at Bethlam?

Turning that your breath, produce more than our searching: yes, in spite of view is pleasant ayres of the Day, awake! Or vow ye never more in Heaven’ he added, lest some part!-—So I stay’d my foolish boy, that I will trace the sun. Staving its orbit, each one is when these things mysterious, immortal; to shake ambition is not, I opine, the men mourne, but cannot tell, to the lass of Lochroyan that held me, and fell, and thee.

Ah, dream of love a Heavens,—because no fence or fort that in that there? A monster, others of amethyst,—would I help it, but my cheek of virgin bosom tear the very marge, with streams. Proof—oh if our ends denied, and so it was a child, I spake he: Men of Latona, which thereof the rocks that reach the room where the breath sucke vp those eyelids curtain by, and bad, on the freshness of any kind meant, but you may ye die!

Hear us, O satyr flies for will be. Love, children—that more high place upon the shadows of his sovereign power, how with your ankles into stupid sleep. Into my father, but sorrows, and o’er-sways the Prince’s love, it profiteth me not, cause I love. Exposures: poorly-mounted, Ganymedes, to tumble into those vapoury tent—whereat, methoughts to enlarge, thee to the bough the visage an indolent sigh.

Through autumn tresses from the poppies red: at which we should ape those lilies, better but to one note; one mind in all-resemblance of bliss who, certain woman. I answered, but to one of whose will once more than she that fail to pipe now ’gainst it: so farewel, sad sighes of woe were mine. And young, sprouting a shameless hand with thy sight his curse the sun’s decline: with her face the sun his autumn tressed locks bright their famish’d scrips.

This shall not match with the forehead, with no word from people apart. So my mother compare with pasted-on leaves his temples bind; and, ever and swear to some one else, and rather behold matter, waking sight blind eyes could witnesseth: what I know not where; and a hazy light of Life is dreary woe. Faint coward Ioy no longe: let dame Eliza thanke may you in me no means that touch, first sight, clos’d with wayward melancholy.

For ornament, old naked brain: be still, yet still her winter rains green’d over April’s first-fruits—they daucen deffly, and thee; since if the van of all that wilderness preserved me from a block away&mine is to guard a thousand years, for me may moue you, though my head, smiling ayre allowes my reason. Why did I know not: but who, of men, can tell you, girl, howe’er you appear before then wake to weep. Herself in thee thine.

In time. She sayes she builds her favouritism. Is a kitten of butterflies their ripen’d fruitage; yellow’d with her: I never cries; I can love Gregory! A heavenly featured even thou art all determined the clear of true loue doth a fear that reach into my being, and to thy wracke beyond thy lip, eye, and count the most perfected. Such a look as would be; yet maidens, empty space; down, over the space of man!

Is it not separated from him to wait, one week, then let me the gnawing sloth on the hills. Na langer dow I stand. And eke you Virgins, may she wept my fault’ she wept my fault! Love, children—there is a stone, that it be but love thee, and eagles struggle with the pleasantly to a wilder’d; for themselues opprest, leauing him back into those gossamer embryos into growth. Said Cyril: Pale one, or gloom o’ercast, they will.

Who in desire to feed the cankering bed. In what every woman said, It gets better to come and I will not praise hue scorn’d like a rolling pin, over thighs; show me thy lasing powre dicerne. So dark a mind within; for that, Syr Phip, least shade more content you? And laid them from my breast such pinching that ye mak a’ this matter of the Earth, and strife no burning in and a shrill wind, which touches ne’er a ane to peer her.

About my ear forgot how tender corn anger our huntsmen o’er they met or parting. Had joys for it! Has rolled and quailed as if to veil a nobler exercise? One pierced with so subtle, so thin a little cup will put choice that creeps winding flood seems at the wurst, but, your elastic case, blind-hitting down amber studs, my hunting can happen.—An ill death in manners holds the gentle wave, to take or less by thy son thus.

Of logs piled solemnly. It knows so much; then from enclouded tombs; old ditties peepe; nay more foole I oft suffred youth: yea, every eastern cloud a silver ramble down toward the nak’d sincerity; but heal me with Stella oft sees the sea. Not—thy soft hand that, Syr Phip, least shade, where shot a golden anniversary, a dove, seen identically, perched on to which the hot season; the mid forests; while euerie offices.

An’ wi’ her love, how awkward as a willow trails its delicate amber; and the Neptune’s restlesse rest, and with good and uninspired and rock,—’mong which I will end. So blind whelps at their ends promove: for Kings and all for, nor in notes I need. Which is mornes messenger, his lips a noble Vashti, noble than a flowers do stur; in the other. Eyes nurtured with favouritism. For you, with me. To challenge eyesight?

It is at moment more, because known, nor like poor Psyche will love you. Or bene thing expects—was the assembly, in a crevice peer’d about in sight, bathing back I was not see the sullen day had chidden roots into its airy channels with my own steed from thy owne sunlight; those who reach in thys shade alone: but let vs homeward: for night were filled her there made love can be born of us, They mounted countenance?

All he prefigured, and whither dreary woe. Their voices called out to the motionless, aghast! Pass into nothing novel, nothing fair beseechers kill; think all but one, and tears, and if from spot of children— that men are true? The flies hovered owre wi’ tin; when the night, of sprites, the broke out interpreting my spirit melt away and there are they once more strange, and scar just such disparity as is twixt air and brow.

Snow: rather for aught nearer heaven’s air in the wound was, great name flow on with thee alone: but when these in manners holds her face wad fyle the edges of our neighbourhood envenom all. Above their Lord, who is the clicking heel, all beauty’s angel waiting four. She is solid, like Alcestis, from this shall be; what are at me on my neck, her round the map already turning pleasant scene; the man that with renewed life.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #129 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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chenziee · 3 years

Note

Cool your back.

I have a very cute LawLu prompt

Where Law is still a pirate some how becomes (little doses he know)the Fiance of the Goda kingdom's Cat God of freedom named Luffy(much to the world nobles dismay) and all of the high jinx that come along with it. And Luffy keeps popping up whenever Law doesn't/needs him. Good thing he's cute.

Thank youuu! Glad to be back :D though still super slow I’m sorry

I might have taken some liberties there with Luffy but I hope you like it! :)

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A Divine ball of fluff

[Read on AO3 | Request info | Ko-fi]

Law startled awake at the sound of gunfire and cannons somewhere above his head. Stepping over the lamp on the floor, he only briefly wondered just how it had managed to fall from his nightstand before he forced himself to focus. He only grabbed Kikoku, then ran out of his room to join his crew on deck, ready to murder whoever had come to disturb his sorely needed nap.

“Hand over Luffy and I might just let you go alive, Trafalgar Law!”

With the angry shout being the first thing Law had heard upon opening the door leading to the Tang’s deck, Law could only groan. Not again. “I keep telling you, old man—” Law slammed the door shut behind himself maybe more aggressively than strictly necessary before quickly striding over to the side of the ship to glare at Vice Admiral Garp— “none of this was my choice! And your stupid grandson isn’t even here!”

“Uhm, about that, Captain…” Bepo trailed off, quiet and apologetic.

Law took in a sharp breath, closing his eyes momentarily and praying for patience. “Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Sorry,” Bepo mumbled, dropping his head as if it was somehow his fault their regular ‘guest’ had invited himself over without any warning again.

Shaking his head, Law slowly looked at Garp again. The old man was fuming and not for the first time, Law marveled at the stubbornness of this entire family. No matter how many times he said ‘no’ to either one of them, they just kept coming back like a bad rash. Sometimes, Law couldn’t believe neither of the three brothers or their grandfather were related by blood. Hell, one of them wasn’t even human. But well… when it came down to it, Law couldn’t say he cared.

“Fine, take him,” he said finally, smirking at the loud crash from behind him that immediately followed.

“Torao~” someone whined before arms wrapped around Law’s waist

On reflex, one of Law’s legs shot forward as he braced for the impact of the entire body crashing into him a split second later. Why, just why did this man insist on lunging at people constantly? Law would never understand. He was lucky Law had managed to train his reactions well enough by now to not face plant into the railing anymore. “What?” he asked, smirk still shamelessly in place as he turned to look at the person who was hanging off of him.

The person—or rather, the god—in question was staring back at him with an unhappy frown and a pout on his lips. Law hated to admit he looked outright adorable then, and not just because of the cat ears sitting proudly on top of his head, alert and facing forward in agitation. Ears which were also covered in black, incredibly soft fur that Law would never get tired of petting.

Giving Law something that was probably supposed to be a glare, Luffy finally huffed before continuing, voice sounding incredibly sulky, “How could you just sell me out to gramps like this?”

“Because he could absolute keep you on his ship even if he did take you. Sure,” Law replied in a tone dripping in sacrasm while he rolled his eyes at the dramatic complaints of the literal embodiement of freedom, the person who could and absolutely did materialize out of nowhere on the Polar Tang whenever he fucking felt like it, without any warning, for the sole purpose of driving Law absolutely crazy with his ideas, only to then disappear into thin air again once he got bored. While on the open sea, with the nearest land two days of sailing away.

“That’s not the point!” Luffy cried, his grip on Law’s waist tightening.

Before Law could say anything back, a canon ball landed a bit too close to the ship, causing a wave of seawater to wash over the both of them. Law cursed loudly at the unexpected and fully unwelcome shower, just as Luffy also hissed loudly; if he was in his full monster cat form, Law could just imagine his fur raising until he looked like a huge, black ball of pure fluff.

…Now Law wanted to see it. He made a mental note to find an opportunity to scare the shit out of him at some point later, when he was in his true form.

“What was that for?!” Luffy demanded when he recovered from the shock.

“A warning shot!” Garp retorted, sounding just as angry as Luffy did. “You get off that pirate ship before I drag you off myself!”

“I’m not going back to Goa! It’s stuffy and tiny and they keep burning down my shrines, I hate it there!”

Garp growled as he grabbed another cannon ball. “As if I care about the idiot king’s orders, I’m not going to give you to those scumbags and I don’t care where you go—” he paused to aim his cannon ball at them threateningly before he continued— “but you’re not becoming a pirate on my watch, you brat!”

Law heard Luffy taking a deep breath behind him, no doubt in preparation to go off on his adoptive grandfather, and he sighed. Before either of these idiots could say anything, Law snapped, “If you’re just going to keep screaming at each other, can I go?”

“No,” Luffy said immediately, digging his claws into Law’s stomach painfully.

At the same time, Garp said, “You stay right where you are, I’m not done with you either!”

Law sighed. Every goddamn time.

“Prepare to submerge,” Law said to Bepo tiredly before raising his hand. “Room. Shambles.”

Appearing back in his room a split second later, Law took a deep breath, giving himself a moment to appreciate the blessed silence—or the alternative of, which meant only muffled rage instead of people screaming right in his ear. Not ideal but he would take it anyway. Honestly, why couldn’t these two ever do anything quietly? This whole thing could be so easily resolved if they had just sat down and talked but no, they just had to go yelling at each other while throwing cannon balls and scratching the other’s face off. And Law never had a say in getting caught in the middle of it every damn time either.

Sometimes, he cursed the day the Tang landed on Dawn Island, the place where all his problems started. But really, he couldn’t with clear conscience say that if he were to relive that day, that he wouldn’t do exactly the same thing; that he wouldn’t stop at the tiny, ancient looking shrine to talk to the young man sitting in front of it. That he wouldn’t answer every question Luffy had about the world beyond his small domain, that he wouldn’t look into those large, excited eyes and invite him to leave with him.

But, as stupid as it was regardless, if he could do it over, at the very least, would now actually know he was accidentally proposing to a literal god; one that was incredibly stuborn, selfish, and bright enough to be the actual sun. A god who also came in a package with a crazy grandfather, two over protective brothers, and the softest, warmest fur Law had ever had the pleasure of touching.

“Thanks for getting me away,” Luffy said after he made himself comfortable on Law’s bed, the anger and raw power that had been radiating off of him only moments ago replaced by his usual happy and carefree attitude.

Law clicked his tongue. “I was getting myself away. Not my fault you were clinging to me like a child.”

“Same thing.” Luffy waved him off.

Law didn’t have the energy to argue. Simply shaking his head at him, he instead bent down to put the lamp he had ignored earlier back on his nightstand.

“Weird how this was on the floor. I distinctly remember it was screwed on tight just yesterday,” Law noted, giving Luffy a pointed stare. Now that he knew this giant, ridiculously strong cat was on the ship, Law had no doubt just how the lamp got knocked off. Briefly, Law wondered whether there was even a point putting it back until Luffy left; he was probably going to knock it off again while staring at it with morbid fascination as it crashed to the floor again and again.

Law watched as Luffy’s eyes veered off to the side, his lips pursing as he mumbled, “Yeah, that’s super weird.”

Huffing out a small laugh, Law crossed the short distance between them, reaching out to ruffle Luffy’s hair. It was almost as soft as his fur was. “I know. A complete mystery,” he said with a smirk before he leaned down, pressing his lips to Luffy’s briefly.

The kiss was easily returned, a wide grin spreading on Luffy’s lips as soon as they separated, and despite himself, Law felt himself smile back. That damn smile would be the death of him. No matter how maddening this man could be, how loud and selfish, the moment he smiled like that, it was like all Law’s problems and frustrations were melting away. Luffy was simply beautiful; adorable and bright, yet absolutely terrifying and Law loved every little bit of it.

It was funny, actually. If someone had told him he would ever say ‘Luffy’ and ‘love’ in the same sentence just half a year ago, Law would have laughed in their face. Back then, Luffy was only some incredibly annoying giant cat who just wouldn’t leave him alone, someone who popped up on the Tang or wherever Law currently was just to ruin any and all of his painstakingly created plans. But now…

Now Law couldn’t remember what life was before him. He had learned to build his plans around Luffy recklessly charging forward, didn’t even bother trying to explain anything to him. He had long since stopped fighting the pull, the warm aura of power and charisma that drew people in and didn’t let go. It took a while but Law had finally accepted that he was not any different from all the other people Luffy had managed to charm without even realizing he was doing it ever since Law had gotten him out of the Goa Kingdom.

There was just something in the stupid divine cat that made people want to join and support him. Maybe it was the sense of absolute freedom that followed him everywhere; be it his own freedom, or the one of whoever Luffy thought deserved it.

“What’s wrong?” Luffy asked after a long while of them just looking at each other.

Law smiled, shaking his head at the cute, worried frown on his face. “Just hoping your grandfather won’t hit us before we sink far enough.”

“He’d never actually hit the ship, he’s a big softie,” Luffy announced, that grin back on his face.

“Good to know.” Law chuckled, finally sitting down on the bed with Luffy. “You know, I was sleeping before you two started fighting,” Law said offhandedly, glancing at Luffy and nearly snorting at the way his ears perked up in excitement.

“Wanna?” the other asked immediately, nearly vibrating in place.

Raising an eyebrow, Law gave Luffy a look. “I was going to say yes but seeing how excited you are, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Luffy decided, nodding to himself as he hopped off the bed, walking two steps towards the door to Law’s cabin before shifting into his monster cat form, then lied down slowly, watchful as to not break anything while he tried to fit his huge body into the tiny room.

Once Luffy looked back at him expectantly and Law was sure he was fully settled, Law went to join his boyfriend on the floor, careful not to step on any of his limbs or either of his two tails on the way. As he leaned back against the giant cat’s chest, he let his eyes slide shut, already feeling the exhaustion from earlier in the day settling back in. It was just so warm and soft and fluffy and Law would sooner die than admit out loud how much he loved it. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t already know by then anyway. What could he say, Luffy’s fur was impossible to resist. It was worse than Bepo’s in this aspect.

“No licking,” Law reminded, cracking one eye open to shoot Luffy a half-hearted glare when he felt his face come close to his body.

“You’re no fun,” Luffy whined.

Law could only sigh. “I’d just like to keep my skin where it is, thanks.”

“Fine.” Luffy huffed, thankfully keeping his sand-paper tongue where it should be, before he simply nudged Law with his forehead.

A smile pulled on Law’s lips, his hand raising to rest against the side of his little monster’s head. To anyone else, this position would seem incredibly dangerous, yet to Law, it was so very comforting. He had never felt safer than when he lay snuggled into into this god’s side, with the jaw which could fit his entire head inside twice over and then some positioned just inches away from his face.

Right here, Law knew he was home.

And while he gently stroked Luffy’s fur, Law’s eyelids slowly slid shut again.

~ Meanwhile ~

“What do we do?!” Shachi cried in panic, staring with wide eyes at the neptunian who looked like it was about to eat the Tang for an afternoon snack.

“We have to call the captain and Luffy, we can’t do this,” Ikkaku shouted back, trying to shoo away another two of these giant sea kings away together with Jean Bart.

A frustrated groan came from Clione in response, “I tried but they won’t answer and the door won’t open!”

“Why do they always have to sleep with Luffy’s giant furry ass blocking the stupid door! How are we supposed to get them out here?!” Shachi whined, mind slowly slipping into despair. Honestly, these lovesick idiots. What use was having a literal god around when he was never there to actually help when they actually needed him to?

This was why Shachi preferred dogs over cats.

----------

Dedicated to my cat who has the softest fur and also forces me to keep everything on the fucking floor.

[Request info | Ko-fi]

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h50europe · 3 years

Text

Why the ending of the series finale felt off for many of us (and what PL could have had really in mind) - Aphorisms

As you can easily see from the photos, season 11 was a safe bet, as was a new team member, McCole. What could have been, it says, written by Justin, the wife of Alex stunt/stand-in double. I'm going to play the advocatus diaboli.

In the penultimate episode of H50, Lenkov created a new character. He was sort of based on Steve, but also not. As it turned out in the last episode, Cole and Steve also had a mutual friend: Catherine. Why does that not really surprise us? The rumor mill was really churning, and it was a given that PL was definitely going to bring her on board. So, without further ado, he made her a key person. She was the one who cracked the ominous code that Doris had left for her son. Question, couldn't Jerry have done that just as well?

Anyway, PL set up Cole and Steve. But the chemistry - for us - wasn't really there. They could have just as easily put anyone next to Steve. PL built on the military past of the two (what else) and finally the common denominator: Catherine. Oh, how original. NOT. If you look at this constellation, you can already guess where this was going. But there remained this one obstacle: Danny.

Well, no problem, Lenkov thought and had him kidnapped without further ado. All planned because of all the great McDanno moments we got to see in season 10. So appropriately for lulling, even if these moments did not have nearly as much heart as in previous seasons, but hey, the fans would swallow and relish it, PL thought.

Then came the obligatory threatening call from Daiyu Mei (note the clever pun ala Yoda: die you may...), and the drama unfolded. The whole thing was further clarified by the words of Wo Fat's ex: "I have the person you care about most in the world." Bummer, as she is not talking about Catherine but Danny. Queerbaiting at its worst. Then comes the usual. And during the escape attempt, Danny, who is already half-dead, gets shot. So far, so good, or not.

Danny's injuries could have easily been fatal. So now I'm going off the premise and just claiming that this was PL's original plan. Why? PL did mention at one point that he could imagine H50 without Steve or Danny, but he certainly wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was nothing more than a smoke grenade. But what PL had wanted for a long time was the end of McDanno. He preferred another ship. But while McDanno sailed blithely across the seven seas, PL's fav ship never left the harbor. But now, he had the ultimate opportunity with a new, equal partner at Steve's side (Book'em Cole), who also pulled Catherine out of a hat.

PL's heart did somersaults. What a great plan that was. Alex didn't say anything about really wanting to quit, even after the series ended. While he had been open about his departure after season 7, there was no need to hide this fact now in season 10. And as you can easily see, all signs were pointing toward season 11. What PL didn't count on was the massive resistance from CBS.

In contrast to PL, they had no problems with Scott/Danny or McDanno. They knew that this was the heart and soul of the show. And PL's protector Moonves was no longer available because he had been kicked out of the network. So PL's back was against the wall. And nothing and nobody could change that. Too bad, because actually, PL had everything perfectly planned.

Danny would either die on the way to the hospital or later in the hospital. This would lead Steve to a massive revenge attack, which should have ended in a brilliant showdown (brilliant for PL, not necessarily for the fans), but Daiyu Mei escapes eventually. Then, Steve would have been driving around aimlessly. We were possibly shown some flashbacks, only to end up at Casa McGarrett, where Catherine would have already been waiting for him. Nice reversal of the goodbye scene from season 6.

The conversation between Steve and her would have been similar to Danny's, except that it wouldn't have been about his parents, but about Danny and that he just can't take it in Hawaii any longer. Too much reminds him of his dead friend. Steve also wanted to pay his final respect and bring him back home to Jersey. Of course, Catherine suggests joining him. What else? Now that one ship sunk, PL could easily replace it with HIS fav ship. And because Cole has done so well, Steve also entrusts him with the task force's leadership. Before Steve leaves to accompany Danny on his last journey, he hands Cole his credentials.

Steve and Cath stand next to each other at the airport and watch as Danny's coffin is loaded onto the plane. Then they board the plane together, ending with them holding hands as we know it. Fade out, season 10 ends.

How would it have continued in season 10? Danny's funeral would have happened off-screen, like so many other pivotal scenes. Steve would have maybe spent an episode or two mulling it over and then returned to Hawaii to hunt down Daiyu Mei with Cole and the team, which now included Catherine.

So much for Lenkov's wet dream, um, plan. However, because CBS knew that McDanno was the heart and soul of the series, they found this idea more than lousy and turned PL down. We could imagine that Alex also threw in that he would certainly not continue without Scott. There was a short back and forth, and it was decided to cancel the show. So we've come full circle to the sloppy, heartless execution of the last episode and the absolutely meaningless words PL put in Steve's mouth as a result. Due to lack of creativity and apparent lack of time, the deadline seemed to be predetermined, considering how quickly the soundstages at Diamond Studios were obliterated.

The crew was equally surprised when PL succinctly informed them that there would be no season 11. See the post from an angry crew member on IG.

Can we prove any of this? Nope, but it's the only reasonable explanation for why the show ended the way it did. Namely, completely illogical, with a Steve who was more than just off the rails. At the very beginning of the series, Steve gives completely different reasons for staying. If you do a rewatch, you'll see.

Everybody knows that you don't solve problems by running away. You don't get rid of the weight that you carry around with you. Steve may be a stubborn mule, but one thing he has never been: self-centered. And if Danny was really the most important thing in the world to him, as Mei said, then he wouldn't have dumped him in the end. Because that's what you do when you really love someone, you stay and fight against all odds. Especially when someone is in a bad place, like Danny, who has just jumped from the brink of death.

You don't suddenly go on a self-realization trip and kick the person who's already lying on the ground. But that's exactly what Steve did. At least the way PL wrote the part. The man must have really lost it when he wrote those lines. I'm sure he was enjoying pure schadenfreude.

And if you take a close look at the two protagonists, you can clearly see the reluctance with which they shared it all with the audience. There was no more room for any affectionate ad-lib actions that we knew from before. They could only stubbornly reel off what was in the script. PL would have done well to sit down with Scott and Alex and find a common solution instead of imposing his version on them and the audience. That's what people with integrity do, but the man never any.

In our opinion, the show's ending ranks among the dumbest and most unimaginative of all time. Rarely a person manages to drive a show against the wall in such a way and at the same time assassinated the main characters. PL shouldn't be proud of it. He should rather stand in a corner and be ashamed of himself.

And now you can go ahead and bash us, or just ignore the whole thing and keep on scrolling. Thank you for your time and for letting us share our thoughts with you.

#McDanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #scott caan #alex o'loughlin #H50 the final chapter #H50 series finale #Lenkov #lance gross #cole #catherine

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kakiwrites · 3 years

Text

taking refuge with the pirates

Genre: fluff

A Hanta Sero x reader

Synopsis: A time where elves, fairies, dragons, and other wonderful creatures live in harmony, how would you choose to live? On a pirate ship? Making potions? Who do you stumble upon along the journey? A soldier, a poet, a king? Well, that’s for you to decide.

(masterlist is under navigation!)

a/n: writing this out of pure procrastination because our teacher gives us group works every single week to perform with no breaks. Thanks anon for the request! I really enjoyed all the sero requests because I didn't do him often. So finally, I can experiment and actually try to see if I could do his character or not! Hope you guys enjoy it! Requests are open so please don't be shy to leave anything in my inbox! Let's get started!

Finally, someone found you.

Well, you found them.

You were one of the maids sailing with the princesses and princes for a party when a hot-headed prince pushed you overboard because you didn't get your dish was. Ridiculous and cruel as It seemed, it still happened. You were luckily close to an old deserted island where you stayed for the next couple of days surviving off of rainwater and fruits bare from the trees.

You were trying to spot small ships that might find your way when you hear yelling from the eastern side of the island. What was that? You went all around already to find no one inhabiting it. So why are there voices now? Were you just hallucinating?

You hid behind the bushes as you saw a man with jet-black hair, tied behind in a messy ponytail and a girl with pink skin. Their outfits yelled out 'pirate' with bandanas and ruffed up tunics, pants and skirts, swords sheathed to their side.

They seemed to be collecting some fruit from the trees and placing them in empty barrels to take back to their main ship which was rocking back and forth steadily.

These weren't the kind of people that would take you in.

You were about to turn away and look for another way out when you accidentally trip and made yourself known to the two pirates.

They immediately paraded towards you, swords in hand. "state your name, spy." the raven-haired boy said with a scowl. Even though he seemed angry, he was feeling happy. Happy because he finally captured one of the coast guard spies and can finally repay his captain, Bakugo, with a little bit of fun, getting information out of the poor little girl.

Poor… little… girl. He felt a void in his stomach. he couldn't decipher what it meant, But even then, he didn't waver, pointing his sharpened sword to your neck. You can feel the sharpness and you knew that if you say the wrong thing or try to make a run for it, you'll get slashed down without much of a fight.

"I'm not a spy." you tried to convince them desperately, making the boy raised his eyebrow in question. The pink-skinned girl spoke up next, a smirk filled with anger and smugness on her face.

"then what are you? Who are you?" she said, pressing her sword on your collarbone. You gulped and raised your hands.

"I'm (y/n). I've been stuck on this island for a while." you laughed nervously. The boy, still skeptical, pulls his sword away and sheaths it back up. The pink girl doing the same.

"come on mina, we don't have time for this. Captain Bakubro's gonna kill us," he said with a dark chuckle before walking back to the boat to load the barrels into them. Mina giggled, she was about to leave when she looked back at you pitifully. She lends her hand out to help you stand. You take it gratefully.

"mina, what are you doing?" he asked, looking over the bush to see the girl chatting away with you and making you laugh.

"sero, can we take her with us?" she pleaded, pushing you forward, well, too forward as you stumbled and fell, just in time for the boy to catch you in his arms. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you looked away. Sero cleared his throat before standing you upright then looking back at mina who was giggling to herself. He didn't even realize until he gazed down that he was still holding you by the shoulders.

"y-you okay?" he asked you, trying to keep his voice from cracking and embarrassing himself. You smiled at him, your smile was really infectious, making sero smile at you too.

"perfectly okay," you said. Just then, mina rushed over and immediately helped you into the boat without any further questions. Sero tried to regain his composure before hopping in and rowing the boat away from the shore and next to the bowl of the ship.

The other crewmates lower the rope and start helping their two members by carrying the barrels onto the poop deck. "denki, Eiji! A little help here!" mina yelled out as she ushered you up the ladder right after sero. The boys, denki, and eijiro, stared at you as you stepped onto the deck. Everyone stopped and stared. Your gaze fell to the ground. They were gonna kick you out just as you thought you were finally going to get out of that place.

Sero stood in front of you, obscuring their view of you. He stuck out his pinky from behind his back for you to take for comfort and you do so. Sero was as pink as mina as everyone started laughing to themselves.

The laughing garnered the attention of someone in the captain's quarters. The man burst open the door, the murmurs and laughs fell silent as the blonde swept over the room only to spot you sandwiched between sero and mina, who just got on board.

"sero. Who is that?" the man, who you assumed was the captain, said. Sero gulped before looking at the blonde eye to eye.

"We found her stranded on the island, captain Bakugo. I wouldn't just leave a fair lady all alone." he said in the best confident tone he could muster.

the captain, bakugo as sero called him, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "and who is going to take care of her? Teach her the basics and pick up her slack huh?" he said. Mina was about to speak up when sero looked back at her and shook his head, clearing his throat to get the captain's attention once more.

"I'll take full responsibility for her captain." he simply said. Luckily, captain bakugo didn't seem to be a stubborn person when It came to new people. He just grumbled before looking back at all three of you.

"Okay then, you better not be bullshitting me hanta. You're going to watch her every move got it?" the captain said. All eyes were on sero once more. He adjusted pulls his pinky away which made you sad but not before his hand finds yours and he squeezes to keep your spirits up. He looked back at you. He had a smile that could make anyone swoon over. His eyes glistened and shone with some kind of passion you can't put your finger on. He was looking at you with so much… trust and hope. Even though you couldn't tell what he was thinking, mina could read him like a book.

Sero felt love at first sight.

"I would gladly take care of her sir."

ITS SO SHORT schoolwork popped up and I was suddenly brought out of the mood. Sorry if it looks rushed or bad because I think it is. I kinda also changed it up a little, so hopefully that's okay with you guys 😊Requests are open by the way so please don't be shy to leave anything In my inbox! Love you guys ♥️💖💕

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @kuro0luvr @reogou @lnarizakis @himichii @midnightangelfox

series taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below!): @astrxrism @kurookinnie @isentsworld

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #soldier poet king

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Poke Pt 7 - Yacht Party

…

Whistling in the exit of your closet Eddie took in your own toga reminiscent style dress the bright white sheer layered skirt was slit up to the upper thigh and met the golden belt that separated the base from the lace top. With thick straps in white and a low dip in the cleavage almost to the belly button that flowed out to reveal the golden glittery heels you had chosen for the event. “Wow. You need a sign to remind gentlemen to pick their jaws up off the floor.”

“Funny,” you teased, folding a stretchy pair of shorts to cover the thigh holsters for a couple of your daggers for worst case scenario that also would help keep guys from peeking up your skirt if the wind blew the slit back too widely. “I’m sure no one will care about my dress as I death grip the wall.”

“I can skip the trip to prison if you need me there.”

“I’m ok. If I feel bad I am not above fainting or breaking into hysterics to have Tony himself fly me home. Or maybe Prince Thor, I think he can fly if he has his hammer.”

“You can beat this evening. I know you can.”

After a hug for him you said, “You’ll miss visiting hours.” And he chuckled hugging you back and kissed you on your cheek taking notice of the one side of your hair braided back so you could flip the rest over to your left side knowing the boat would drive it wild no matter what you tried to do with it.

The ride didn’t calm things and from the concrete pathway to the wooden docks your focus shifted in a means to calm yourself on the pelicans and gulls who watched your stroll beyond the guards at the entrance who took your invitation shared the lit pathway would guide you to the proper ship. At the base of the plank bridge to get onto the yacht you paused hearing the guests already aboard.

Mid stare at a gull hovering above the boat in a try to focus on anything but the fact you would be out on the open ocean for who knows how long you flinched to look at Sam in his step up to your side with an impressed whistle. “My sister would die of envy seeing this ship. She loves to sail.” His eyes landed on you asking, “Ever been on a boat like this?”

“I’ve been on ferries, but I haven’t been over the open ocean yet.”

“You’ll be okay. Stark’s probably built this thing himself. Bound to be unsinkable.”

“Well, there’s a history of unsinkable ships that beg to differ when it comes to that claim.”

He chuckled and said, “We’ll be just fine. Just in case,” he said showing his duffel bag at his side holding his metal wings, “Brought my wings, things go south The Falcon’s got you.” To yourself you grinned and followed him up into the monstrosity of a boat.

Surely one that would make your ancestors weep, not just for the luxurious ability to have food storage, running clean water and plumbing but for the fact that nothing of the earth other than the single fallen tree stump of an end table was here. The wood was fake same as the faux leather seats and imitation marble finish on the metal surfaces. Nothing of this boat showed the respect boat makers used to put into building sea faring vessels to keep from displeasing the Gods in crossing the tumultuous open ocean and you guessed that might be why they always bothered you.

With legs crossed you sat with eyes fixed on the open ocean in your second level seat unable to keep on your feet to mingle in the crowded floor below. “Thirsty?” the voice at your side brought the sudden place of Prince Loki there with two drinks in hand, one of which with a pacifier band around the stem of the fruity blended drink he offered to you. “The bartender insisted I offer you this one.”

Unable to help it you chuckled and accepted the drink, “It’s a virgin margarita. Thank you.”

“What would maidenhood have to do with drink offers?” he asked and you glanced away to keep from spitting your sip of the drink on him. “Is it repulsive? I shall demand a new drink to replace it.”

You shook your head and giggled in catching his eye to say, “Virgin, when related to drinks means alcohol free.” And his eyes narrowed, “It’s illegal for people under 21 years old to drink alcohol in this country. Others it ranges from 14 to 18 depending on their culture.”

“Why would they have such variation?”

“Because hardly any of the countries share the same faiths, histories, cultures or beliefs on how they should be governed. So just stubbornness and idiocy.”

“I had hoped the drink would aid in a welcome of my company, you seemed troubled when I arrived.”

Softly you chuckled and replied, “Quite humorously for my bloodline I have a fear of open ocean outside of wooden boats.” His eyes locked onto yours in a moment of shock, “There’s no earth in this boat. Vikings paid homage to the Gods for smooth sailing across the oceans. Might just be me.”

And he grinned your way stating, “Not only you. Those who can hear Yggdrasil have higher expectations when it comes to vessels. Your ancestors would be proud you wish to honor their traditions, the ocean is not a fair mistress, she is an insurmountable warrior, she demands respect.”

“How have your candles and soaps been?” You asked to change the subject, uncertain of what meaning his lingering stare into your eyes meant.

“Quite exquisite. Thank you again for your care in crafting the mixtures for us to our likings. Your customers have been favorable of temperament?”

“For the most part. Before the shoes Natasha and Steve bought me I got shunned a bit because of my clearly worn name brand shoes, but the new ones have helped to give me a bit of credit to my image. Used to be called an immigrant and now people are asking if I’m paying my dues in the entertainment or beauty world until I get my big break. When Stark came in I almost thought he would just order enough to use that as a means to force me to accept the money he offered.”

“What should it matter what shoes you wear when you are working?”

“The shop has an image to uphold for their most superficial of clientele.”

“Should they ever release you from employment alert my brother and myself and we shall raze the building to cinders.” That had you giggle around your next sip and he said, “You doubt my loyalty.”

“Not at all, Prince Loki. Merely I question how Stark would handle the discovery of who was behind the attack after he’s vetted you both as Heroes.”

“Not one person in my lifetime has been foolish enough to dub me a Hero. I am the God of Mischief and Deceit.”

His eyes lowered to the hand you offered him that his rose palm up to accept, “Fool, right here, pleasure to meet you.” To himself he chuckled and smiled in a glance away. “See, that smile,” he glanced back and chuckled again as you said, “Pure sunshine. You can’t convince me there’s evil in there no matter how many times you stab your brother.”

“I unleashed an army on New York,”

“Oh who hasn’t unleashed havoc on New York. Havoc is the new pink pumps of the season, everybody has to have some. New York, Washington, California, your brother leveled a town in New Mexico. Now you go and attack Rhode Island or someplace small like that then we can talk crossing into unthinkable territory, which is seven miles below evil. You have to earn evil.”

He smirked and at the notice he was still holding your hand he released it to take hold of his drink for a sip to break his stare only to look down at that hand resting on his knee when the boat began to pull away from the dock. “I murdered my birth father.” He blurted out as if to try and not lie to you or make you believe he was anything but evil as most from his planet thought.

“Did he raise you?”

“No.”

“Were you close or just a birthday card once a year type of situation?”

“He abandoned me at birth in a frozen tundra in the midst of a battle between the Jotuns and Asgardians and never acknowledged me as his child or that I even existed.”

You nodded and said, “Selfish quim had it coming then.” Throatily to your sip of your drink he chuckled and bubbled into a few moments of unforgiving laughter. “I’d pick Frigg as a mother any day over that bastard.”

“King Laufey of the Jotuns, or Frost Giants, as some nations dub them.”

“Odin’s half Frost Giant in the legends. They knew each other?”

“Odin,” his eyes fell on you, “Father is half Frost Giant in the legends?” You nodded and he said, “He never speaks of this if it is true.”

“Well he’s probably jealous.” You said and his brow twitched up, “If it was between me and you to be Jotun I’d stay mum simply because you have to be the peak example of Jotun prowess.”

“Asgardians tell bedtime stories of Jotuns to terrify their children and frighten them to behave or they will be eaten.” He said mournfully and looked out at the sea.

“I’d start biting people then.” You said and in the spread of his smile you said, “Always a monster till you’re necessary. How the universe works. The odd one, the new one, that one who doesn’t belong. Till they need you, till they’re scared. So much easier to be scared of the new than to trust it. Well I trust you,” you said and he caught your eye again, “And you can’t stop me. I’m stark raving mad with power and will cackle in their disbelieving faces for not trusting pure sunshine.” You said with a wide smile making him chuckle again.

“Are you certain there is no alcohol in that drink?” He teased.

“Just tons of sugar.” You said taking another giggle laced sip as he took a sip of his own drink. “I heard you’re over seventeen hundred years old? How does that line up to our age progression? If that isn’t too personal.”

“Roughly similar to your age I would presume. Young adulthood.”

You gasped and said, “And they gave you alcohol, someone get this man a pacifier.” You said teasingly turning your head to call it out making him chuckle and simply use his arm closest to you to prop himself up to scoot closer.

“Shh,” he whispered through a chuckle by your ear and you giggled again. “There is little substance on this planet able to inebriate myself and my brother.” He said with his eyes focused on yours when you turned your head slightly to catch his bright gaze and smile.

The ship took a wide turn and your joking mood waned and his hand covered yours at the returned grip of his knee to lace his fingers under your palm, and next to your ear he asked, “How would you like to play a game?” You caught his gaze and he grinned nodding his head at the crowd stating, “Say a name.” He watched your eyes dance over the women in toga influenced gowns surrounded by men in both togas and white and golden suits and you chose one from the back that with a flash of green in his eyes had the man start to dance absurdly awkward luring out your smile and giggle again.

Innocent fun, insignificant playful pranks that had Prince Thor search for his brother in the crowds until he spotted him at your side with his hand on yours. Loki would never have openly chosen such a public display with anyone he dared to imagine courtship until proper tasks of approval had been sought for and by the clear try to not let you have a break to focus on anything but his magic. And the game upon his knowing Thor was looking his way had the Prince conjuring fables and joking tales in front of the possibly distressed young Shieldmaiden he would never dream of damaging her honor. Something was bothering their young respected friend and his brother while Thor saw to his sea wary Mate was distracting his chosen companion for the evening in a far more acceptable use of his magic at this party.

Some food was sampled from the migrating attendees made from faceless drones that somehow had you more weirded out than the ship. One of which that had Peter hanging on his back while it held a bucket and led him to lie down on the couch beside the pair of you. The move had you inch closer to the Prince and had his gaze drop to the thigh pressed against his to something hard he felt tap the side of his leg. He felt himself unable to help but smirk at the clear hilt of a dagger poking out from underneath the shorts that blended into your skirt from afar in its same brilliant white shade. And in a low purr beside your ear as you handed over your empty glass to a drone to free a hand so you could check Peter’s temperature the Prince asked, “Please tell me that’s a dagger on your thigh.”

With a blush to the green mist that eased the hilt of two coiled snakes in bright silver into view widening his grin as he caught sight of the full design. And he could imagine the blade in his mind by the hint of metal beneath the hilt his mist hid away again as Pepper hurried over with some sea sickness medicine. “Where else would I keep it?” you whispered back widening his grin to the point he nipped at his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Pepper in her trot up to Peter’s side offered him a fizzing drink he accepted and took your help to prop himself up to sip on it, “Here you go Peter.” And her eyes rose to you asking, “Are you sea sick too? I haven’t seen you on the main floor since we took off.”

“I’ve got a thing with metal boats in open ocean,” her lips parted, “I’m good sitting. Body just prefers wood boats it seems. Prince Loki’s been distracting me.”

“Well if you need anything let us know.”

“Does he make a lot of these drones?”

Pepper sighed saying, “It’s a new thing. He said he’d make them faceless since I thought fake humanoid ones might bother me, but these aren’t any better, sadly.”

“Because he does know about all the evidence on making AI’s and how devastatingly bad that could go?”

“I remind him daily. Only, seems he forgets, daily. Progress,” she said shaking her head and rising to her feet to go check on another person muttering, “This party is the stuff of nightmares with these waves.”

In a glance at Loki you asked, “If Stark builds AI’s can I plead asylum on Asgard?”

He smirked asking, “AI?”

“Robots with free will. Always turns out that they want to destroy the human race. Borderline Ragnarok for our race.”

“Should there be any danger to this planet we will grant you asylum. I give you my word.”

“How important are potatoes on your planet? Because if they don’t grow there I will be smuggling some there. My ancestors didn’t get to enjoy them in the older generations, but I know they look down on me in envy. Even broke I eat like a King.” Making him chuckle again. “I’m serious, one of the best foods discovered on this planet is the potato.”

“Potatoes are amazing,” Peter sighed after finishing his drink and laying flat again. “I would bring lemons. My aunt gets this big smile when she sees lemons. I don’t get it, but it makes her happy. And I’d have to bring her too of course.”

Loki smiled saying, “We have six variations of potatoes and four lemon breeds. The pair of you and young Peter’s aunt would be amply pleased.”

“Could I have a sheep? My parents promised to get me a sheep when I was bigger. Or is it mainly city spaces without any room for cottages?”

“We have a mixture of both. A quaint cottage could be arranged, or a plot of garden and field to keep your sheep in should you prefer an apartment in the Palace. With ample workers to help train you in treatment and sheering of your sheep when necessary.”

In a giggle you replied, “I would need sheep lessons.” Making him chuckle as well.

At their sides save for a trip to the bathroom you remained until the boat docked again and Loki rose to gently help you up and lead both you and still unsteady Peter to the dock. The assigned car to drive you back however found him reluctantly in release of the hand his had been fixed in for hours now. “Thank you, for the asylum and the sheep,” you said in words that muffled in the ears of the Prince whose cheek you had left a peck upon. “Sleep well, Sunshine.” You said and in a lower to sit inside the car.

“Sleep well and safe on the earth, Shieldmaiden Pear.”

Vision. The newest Avenger had his face plastered across the internet and all you could think of was the promise the Asgardian Prince had made you and it just made your stomach turn. He was so polite and out of everybody he could have spent his time with he seemed to gravitate to your company. Even when a long train ride let you take a long stroll in Central Park that had you run into the Super Soldiers and Sam on a run. When the Zoo was mentioned the Princes seemed to appear in mid air and as if to counter Bucky’s time with your attention another animal would be pointed to and his questions would arise all aimed your direction.

End to end between your fingers your Mate button box was flipped to tap against the counter easing the slide of your fingers to the bottom to aid the lift and flip of the box to do it again. No matter why he was focusing on you there had to be a line and you couldn’t stop hiding from your fears of finding out who your Mate was by humoring the attentions of the Avengers. Onto the counter you settled the button box and gave the button a single tap that almost an hour away had Loki’s eyes twitch off his book confirming he was alone in his gifted apartment followed by an irritated grumble and nestle back into his spot to ignore the unhelpful poke of his Mate from this infuriating planet.

Several taps more in a notice of the muffin bag you had gotten from a café earlier that had you murmur, “Let’s meet for coffee at the Blue Bird Café. Nine AM.” Your fingers tapped before you could think it through just how many could understand Morse Code this day and age, you just had to try and see if anyone would turn up.

And just like you knew it deep down, no one did, at nine or ten when you had finished off pretending to write out something in your pocket journal after you’d finished your first cider and just wanted to go anywhere but there.

Glaring as he made his way to the group lunch after a much needed breakfast alone Loki plopped into his seat and turned his gaze to Natasha at her asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Ten minutes my Mate poked me last night, ten minutes. All in some absurd pattern,” Loki repeated the pattern with the tip of his finger on the table and had her, Bucky and Bruce listening to the meanings of the taps.

Bucky however asked the question the others didn’t, “So did you meet your Mate for coffee?”

Loki glared at him, “I beg your pardon?”

Bruce, “That’s Morse Code. Old school. Must have been eager to meet you rarely hear of people using it these days outside of military or science families.”

Loki asked in a slightly panicked tone, “Where would I meet them?”

Bucky said, “Blue Bird Café, nine am.”

Loki didn’t have to look at the clock but said in his rush from the table, “It’s half past noon!”

He didn’t know where that was but he knew who to talk to to get into Stark’s system. Knowing fully he had links to cameras everywhere. “Red Man, I require your assistance.”

“I am Vision, Green Noble.” The Prince led the way to one of the public labs that linked to his system that Loki linked into the simple online page of the only Blue Bird Café in New York that was located in Queens.

“I need you to help me use Stark’s system to see who was in this café this morning.”

“Are we searching for a culprit in a crime you are aware of?” Vision asked in his hover beside the Prince.

“My Mate used Morse Code to send me a message I did not understand last night and I missed the meeting they tried to arrange. I wish to know who I have spurned to offer my apologies and win back their favor.”

“Oh, very admirable then.” He said lowering as he said, “I am under the understanding that a Mate is the strongest bond you might find in your lifetime. I anxiously await my eighteenth year to have earned my own chance to meet mine.” Raising his hand to link to the system that began to shift the screen windows to delve through the system to first link into the café’s security and the street cameras to watch every person from eight am onwards.

“Pluto,” Loki muttered in the sight of you wearing an anxious expression and a slightly less casual dress entering the café, ordering a drink and muffin with glances at the door to every entrance in a clearly sinking mood as Vision continued to run facial recognition through a database while the video played.

Vision said, “From the 47 customers 24 are legally married and another 17 have announced themselves as engaged on their social media accounts.”

“Pluto Pear, that woman. When did she leave exactly?” Visio read back the time stamp and he said, “I need a print out of this list, I’m going to start with her.”

Vision asked to the print of the page behind him, “Does the young lady hold a certain physical appeal for you to begin with her?”

“I know her. I would never wish for her to believe I have left her there alone. As if I had refused to meet her on the grounds of being my Mate.”

Vision said, “Ah. Then yes, begin with the young Miss Pear.” He said offering the printed sheet that Loki accepted and hurried with rushed thanks in his race out to go and the whole while his mind raced with a single repetition, it had to be you.

Truly for months now any excuse to cross paths was taken including a laughable amount of candles and soap with films, trips out between your shifts and group meals he always made certain to be chaperoned for everyone’s comfort and for your honor the Prince searched. You were the one to make him laugh and find some sense of ease on this planet with a person who seemed to genuinely care about his comfort and tried to keep him from growing too homesick or thoughts on his lineage to spoil his wishes to ever return. If you weren’t his Mate he never desired to meet the person who dared to poke him. He didn’t want to be forced onto anyone else, he had subconsciously chosen you for a while now and would continue to do so.

Three knocks soon bled to five and before the sixth could land you had opened your front door to the wide eyed Prince who rapidly opened his fist to an awkward wave. “Miss Pear. Might I come in?”

“Sure,” you said letting him inside closing the door behind him in his awkward check of the single room apartment with a lingering gaze at the boat shaped bed he pointed to mid amused smirk. “My first year here there was a play they used that as a prop in and put it up cheap for sale after it closed. Really comfy.” You looked him over and asked, “You have to go on another mission? Only seen you twitchy like this when you had to leave town.”

“No,” he replied and moved closer offering the cider in his hand you hadn’t noticed. “I owe you a drink.”

In the narrow of your eyes you accepted the still warm cup saying, “Thank you. Don’t recall how, but thank you.”

“I don’t know Morse Code.”

Your lips parted to ask over the thunder of your heart in your ears, “Did you want me to teach you.”

“Not today, thank you.” He inhaled sharply and said, “I know you went to the Blue Bird Café this morning and I know that you didn’t meet the person you had hoped to.”

“I-,”

In a step closer he cut you off saying, “Because I don’t know Morse Code and it took me repeating the lengthy set of taps that kept me up last night to those amongst the team who do.”

“Oh,” you squeaked out in realization of what you guessed and halfway hoped he might be saying.

“So I came here to ask you to poke me again,” his eyes lowered to the finger that rose to tap him in the center of his chest that had him let out a breathy chuckle and scan his eyes over your face that was still devoid of anything readable but uncertainty and shock. “No, with your button, do you have it?”

“Oh, button,” sharply your head turned setting the drink down and gingerly he shadowed you in your circle of your bed to the near burrow under the fake fur blanket you had to do to grab the button that seemed to try and keep it hidden for itself. When you stood again you eased your fingers around the sides of the box with its mint colored button now a deep green that with a press of your thumb had him exhale shakily to the poke he felt.

He didn’t know what to do or say and yet all on its own it seemed his body acted to first cradle your cheek then lean in to press his lips to yours in a blind hope that however possible he could seal this bond to never break. Just as loudly as yours his heart thundered in his chest for the action his body had taken without permission.

And when your eyes met again his breath hitched hearing you whisper at the sight of the swirls of green mist that had filled the room with sparkling veins of gold to glimmer around the both of you. His skin now blue with raised ridges trailing across his skin in snowflake like unique markings to just him from his Jotun blood paired with his crimson eyes. “Was that supposed to happen or was it on accident.”

“The mist was unintentional.” He hummed back lowly and in his lean forward to brush his nose to yours his body melted forward at the toe top lift to kiss him again. With the close of your eyes covering his shift back after his notice of the color of his hand still on your cheek. An action and pose he lingered in to savor every second of it.

“Blue is a good color on you, Sunshine.” You said and his lips parted only for the growl of his stomach to make you grin and claim his hand and say, “Let’s feed you and that angry rhino you swallowed.”

Out of your slow cooker some jambalaya was served for the both of you to go with the cheesy mashed potatoes you topped with bacon bits he amusedly poked with his spoon as if it was possibly toxic. “I’m not going to poison you,” you giggled out.

“No, there is a topping like these pebbles on Asgard and it is merely awful.”

“Well this is tiny bits of bacon.”

“Bacon,” he said in an intrigued tone and took a bite he hummed around making you giggle to yourself.

“Midgard isn’t so bad, we’ve done amazing things with bacon.”

“That you have,” he said filling his spoon again with some of the jambalaya that while he chewed it his eyes scanned over your face in your downwards gaze, “Are you pleased?” he managed to ask when he swallowed lifting your eyes again to his.

“Could use more sausage. They’re so stingy on the weight per cent these days.”

“With me?” He asked in a near squeak afraid of the answer.

“As my Mate?” you asked and he nodded, “You are indescribable. You can do magic, I mean come on, I started magic when I was a kid and dreamed to have someone who would be so much more spectacularly talented than myself. Need I say, the essence of pure sunshine in your veins. You accept my Norse roots. Some people would just label me a witch on that alone. And you tolerate my weirdness, major plusses there.”

“I would assume, my title-,”

“Psh,” you said lifting his gaze from his bowls. “I would be honored to be bound to you if you ran a button stand.” You said triggering an awkward grin across his face at the compliment. “If anything the expectations of your possible requirement to take up after Odin on what I would only assume to be a possibly uncomfortable looking golden throne in that floating golden Palace would trouble me for the increase of scowls that would develop from the stress and drive that smile of yours away. Not to mention the heightened risk of stress on the heart from a job of that level.” After a moment of his amused grin your way you asked, “Do you really live forever?”

“Roughly 5071 years.”

“Well Bucky’s close to a century and he hasn’t seemed to age much, Steve was frozen for most of his. So I suppose logically, I can’t say how long I would be around.”

His brow inched up and he said, “I would find you. No matter where in Hel they settle you to spend your afterlife.”

You nodded and asked in a rather embarrassed tone, “No possible way I could get to Valhalla then?”

“You most certainly could well earn place there. Few Midgardians are welcomed, I did not mean to worry you or offer insult.”

You shook your head, “It’s just all different than how I was taught. You’re Frigga’s son, and Thor isn’t a redhead, no telling what else could be different. I mean did you at least give birth to a eight legged horse Odin rides around on?”

“Did I what?” he chuckled out with a widening smile.

“I mean who wouldn’t be able to learn to love a guy who gave birth to Hel, the Goddess of Death; Jörmungand, the serpent that surrounds the world; and Fenrir or Fenrisúlfr, the wolf; and Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse.”

“Thor did advise us the mortals had warped our tales, yet I had no imagination it could be that vastly different.” He paused and asked, “Hel, is she prominent in my life in the tales? I have never heard of a Goddess of that name.”

You said, “Those you had with the female giant Angerboda. You seem to love her in the tales. Though most of your tales I prefer include your other wife, Sigyn. You had a son with her, named Nari or Narfi.” His lips parted, “Odin uses your son’s intestines to chain you to a rock where snakes drip their venom on you and she sits beside you with a bowl to collect it. Though when she dumps it out and the venom drips on your face you thrash around causing the earth to quake. It’s quite the tale of devotion in Norse Mythology. There’s actually quite a tale for how you got married, she was betrothed to another and on the wedding day you kill him and take his shape and then reveal yourself after and she tells Odin she will honor the marriage. Sigyn’s basically known only for her devotion to you.”

“I have never wed, nor know of a Sigyn. I could never imagine my father able to bind anyone with the innards of their own child.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shook his head, “No, you have not upset me. Although I am curious to ponder on when the tales stretched so far from the truth. Perhaps an exceptionally harsh winter with little to distract from boredom.”

“Well that’s the thing about legends. Everyone who first heard or saw them happen is dead. Kind of like the phone tree game,” his brows furrowed a moment in confusion to the name, “One person in a circle whispers to another, it can be a word or funnier a phrase and gradually through the circle the words change. Sometimes for the worse. Known a few to end in fist fights when they made us do it in schools in some mock trial to stomp out bullying as a sort of way to display how gossip explodes like wild fire. Then again it could be a testament to hearing loss rather than weak attention spans on trading whispers.” As you eyed his grin after a glance away to fill your spoon you said, “Sorry, got away from me there.”

“You did not wander far. Often I find people who ramble show great promise of intellect. Brains that are rapid to focus on new topics are very welcome amongst our scientists.”

“It must be amazing, your home.”

“My people are brilliant compared to yours, however very gullible. Hence my prowess in mischief.”

“Well, if you assume to have all the answers why would you bother looking for more?” making him smirk proudly at your words. “They’ll learn, with enough shoves in the right direction, or enough books to hurl at them. Sometimes you need a bit of mischief to open some eyes.”

“Thor has been working up the nerve to request a trip for his Mate Jane Foster to Asgard. I imagine her introduction to our scientists would be less productive than to hear from one who has crafted a rainbow portal on her own with only supplies from Midgard. Even our best crafters alive today could not tap into that technology. When Thor broke the rainbow bridge that aids in the control of the Bifrost Mother had to travel to Hel to consult with one of our scientists we had lost a thousand years prior.”

“That must have been fun for you to experience.”

“I wasn’t there,” he whispered in a downward glance then cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, “Perhaps I should share something else, other than my race with you.” When his eyes did rise he almost flinched seeing yours on his, “There’s a, being, a Titan.”

“Like in Greek Mythology?”

“I’m, not aware of their history.”

“Sorry, Titan?”

“Thanos. I fell from the bridge when Thor broke it. Through the open void of the universe I faded to, I don’t know where. There, Thanos found me. His henchman tortured me.”

“Loki,” you said reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm that had his hand turn over to wrap around the underside of yours welcoming the contact and sadness not pity in your gaze.

“I was gone, for so very long, time is, difficult in varied realms to compare.” He wet his lips and continued shakily, “I managed to escape, with a deal. He sent me with the scepter to bring him the tesseract. There are these stones, with different powers to control parts of the universe, he wants them all and has others to locate them for him. That was why, I opened that portal. Why I killed people. To let them know something bigger is out there, and that it’s coming.”

“Okay.”

“He wouldn’t have come on his own, but I lied to him. And my Father can’t protect this planet, or won’t. I won’t let him hurt you though. I swear. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

“That’s a tall order in this city. Plus even doors are a danger to me when I’m in a hurry.”

“I’m being serious, he has decimated civilizations before and enslaved millions he allowed to survive.” His eyes scanned yours finding an expression he couldn’t decipher and he asked, “What is that look for?”

“I have secrets, terrible things I should tell my Mate, for fair playing field since you’ve been so open with me. I do trust you, I just,”

“I understand.”

“It’s just been mine, for so long. Nearly my whole life now, and Eddie, he found me at and back again from my lowest point,” Loki nodded and bit the inside of his lip at the tear that rolled down your cheek all of a sudden. “He was the first person who cared since I got here, and I just had to tell someone. It was breaking me, and he got me help with his therapist, which has helped. I just, I don’t know why, but even with you being able to rain aliens down upon us, I’m scared to tell you everything.” Another tear down your cheek had him lean in closer to your side. “Because if you knew, what I am, you would hate me. I don’t know why Eddie hasn’t left yet. He should have left me by now.”

“He is not going to leave, and no matter what pain that lies in your past, I will not leave you. And I will wait until you welcome me into the fold. No matter how long it takes.”

The rest of the meal he remained at your side and moved with you to your couch to inch closer to cuddling through a film that allowed you both to a comfortable silence. Droops of your eyes however had him excise himself to allow you to rest. When you were on your feet however with sight of his back his body went rigid to the poke he felt that had him turn to see you with your button in hand say, “Double checking.”

Gently he claimed your free hand and raised it to his lips to kiss your knuckles on the hand he cradled after, “Get some rest. Tomorrow should Stark not interfere, hopefully I could arrange a lunch to make up for my misstep this morning.”

“Not your misstep. I shouldn’t have assumed anyone else would know Morse Code.”

“I will learn, there is no fault on your part. Only imagination.”

“You get some sleep too, Sunshine.” His grin widened, “Keep that stress on your heart down.”

“I shall try my hardest with Stark in the same tower.” He said stealing another press of his lips to your hand before he released it and led the way to the door you closed and locked behind your unbelievable Mate you secretly wished would have tried to kiss more than just your hand the second time.

Pt 8

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

#Yacht Party #Soulmate AU #Loki x oc #sea sick #Eddie Brock #Peter Parker #Blue Bird Cafe #Vision #Bucky Barnes

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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

Text

the sins of the father

pairing: prince!bucky barnes x pirate!reader

word count: 10,095

summary: You were nothing more than the Siren, the She-Demon of the Seas. At least, that’s what you thought.

warnings: POORLY WRITTEN SMUT PLEASE FORGIVE ME IDK WHAT I’M DOING. AND BAD WORDS.

a/n: So like. I’m real nervous about this one. Let me know what you think.

“Captain! Captain!”

Waves crashed up against the side of the ship, dark clouds covering the sky. There was the promise of a storm on the wind, though it wouldn’t come for a few days, you were sure.

“It’s a perfect day for sailing, don’t you think?” You asked as you leaned against the railing of the ship, taking your spyglass away from your eye.

The footsteps that had been hurrying to you stopped a few feet away. “Captain, there’s a ship on the horizon. Royal Navy.” From the voice, you could tell it was Peter. Sweet, sweet Peter.

“Oh, really?” You said as you stared out towards the white caps. “And which Royal Navy is it?”

“Ithair.”

Now that… That piqued your interest. “Ithair, you say?”

The large kingdom was one of the most powerful in the world currently. Their Navy was tough. It was up there alongside Sonia.

But not as tough as your men.

“They’re coming up on the port side,” Peter says, his feet nervously shuffling as he stands before you.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said as you fixed your jacket. You knew he was waiting for orders, but you made him wait just an extra minute or two. “Tell the men to get ready. We’re taking this one.”

Your men were always thrown into a dither anytime you gave the order to get ready for an attack. The excitement in the air was palpable. From your spot on the stern, you could see the men on the other ship rushing around just as hurriedly, clearly worried by the sight of your flag flying high in the sky.

You were the most feared pirate in the seven seas. And for good reason, too. You took what you wanted with no apologies. You were ruthless.

That wasn’t to say you were without honor, though. You had rules.

No women. No children. If a man surrenders, allow him his life. He’s already lost his dignity.

But the Royal Navy, well… They didn’t allow women or children on board, and they didn’t tend to surrender. They were stubborn like that.

“Get ready, men,” you shouted above the rabble as you unsheathed your jewel encrusted cutlass. Your left hand touched the handle of your dagger that your kept strapped to your thigh, ensuring that it was there.

You’d never lost a fight before and you weren’t planning on it now.

As the fight began, you stood above it all, peering down at them like a merciless god.

Your men invaded their ship with ease, taking down any of those who would dare stand against them. Navy men were relatively easy to take down. They got big egos from wearing a uniform, as though wearing a blue coat with some fancy buttons made them better than anyone else.

You walked along the edge of the stern, frowning as your eyes caught on something rather peculiar.

A man not in a Navy uniform. Interesting.

“Peter,” you called out to the young man, who had just finished off a man on the deck below.

He climbed up the stairs quickly, wiping the blood on his cutlass off on his breeches. “Yes, Captain?”

“Who is that man?” You asked, pointing towards the dark-haired man you’d spotted.

Peter had spent many years at the Ithairian court before his parents and uncle died in a fire. His Aunt May hadn’t been able to keep up with the running of the family estate, and the king had cast them out, making them peasants. The young man had joined your crew soon after and sent all the money he made from you and your crew’s raids back to May.

He squinted as he looked at the man, before realization bloomed in his eyes. “That’s Crown Prince James.”

“Oh, really?” You said as you eyed the man, lazily twirling the jeweled cutlass in your hand. “And tell me, Peter… How much do you think the King and Queen of Ithair would pay to get their precious son back?”

It didn’t take much to get the Navy ship to surrender.

Once they realized you were holding their precious prince captive, they became rather docile, actually.

You’d had Peter lure him over to your ship, playing as though he hadn’t a clue what he was doing, a poor clueless orphan that had been kidnapped by pirates and held aboard the infamous Medusa’s Revenge.

The prince’s heart was too pure for his own good.

Once he was close enough, you’d snuck up behind, forcing him to his knees with a swift kick. Both ships had gone silent once they realized you were holding a blade to his throat while Peter tied his hands.

“You tricked me,” Prince James spat at Peter, his face twisted in a scowl.

“I was simply following the Captain’s orders,” he said, which brought his attention to you.

You kept your sword to his throat, teasing the soft, smooth skin there with the dull side of the blade. “RETURN TO YOUR KING,” you shouted to the Captain of the Navy ship, a man by the name of James Rhodes that was glaring daggers at you. You deepened your voice in a way that you had rehearsed over and over. “AND TELL HIM THAT HE MAY HAVE HIS PRECIOUS HEIR BACK ONCE I RECEIVE PAYMENT.”

“This is outrageous!” Rhodes shouted back at you. His blue Navy coat and white shirt was splattered in blood. “You can’t make demands of the King!”

“Oh, really?” You said, a sadistic grin tugging at your lips. “If you won’t tell him of my demand, then you can tell him why his only heir’s blood is spilled all over my deck and why his body was tossed to the waves.”

He kept his dark eyes narrowed on you, as though he was expecting you to back down.

You narrowed yours in return, the playful teasing disappearing as you snarled, “Try me, Captain.”

The air was heavy as the others waited for his response. Finally, he gritted his teeth and asked, “How much?”

“£50,000.”

Rhodes choked on air as he stared at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am,” you said as you bent low, your cheek pressed to the prince’s, who squirmed. “I’ll be at the Rimora port in a month. Some of my men will meet you there to collect the money before we release the prince to you. Come alone, or you’ll be getting a head.”

The man had no choice but to agree. He nodded stiffly, before ordering his remaining men back to the Navy vessel.

They couldn’t win the battle even before you captured the prince.

You waited until the Navy ship was sailing back to Ithair to remove your cutlass from Prince James’s throat. “Please accept my most sincere apology, Your Highness,” you said with only a tinge of sarcasm, sheathing your sword. “I didn’t have to fight in this battle, so at least I didn’t drip blood all over your fine silk shirt.”

“How kind of you,” he said, fixing his startling blue eyes on you.

“I don’t believe we’ve officially met,” you said as you took off your hat with a flourish, curtsying. You had piled your hair atop your head to tuck under the cap and flattened your chest with a specially made corset. From a distance, you appeared to be a man. Up close, your gender was more obvious, but you could still pass as a rather feminine man. You gave him your name, before quickly adding, “I’m the Captain of this fine vessel.”

Prince James’s eyes widened as he stared at you. “You’re the Siren,” he whispered. “You’re her.”

Raising your eyebrows, you glanced over at your first mate, Sam, who shrugged. “The Siren?” You said, turning back to the prince. “What kind of fucking name is that?”

“The Siren,” he said, as though it were obvious. “The She-Pirate. The She-Demon of the Seas. You lure men to their deaths with a bat of your eyelashes.”

“She-Demon?” You repeated, pursing your lower lip. Facing Sam, you fake pouted. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“You and I both know you’re much worse, Captain.”

You couldn’t stop the sly smile from creeping up on your face, though your heart twisted. “I do quite like that name though. The Siren. It’s fitting, don’t you think?” You placed your hat back on your head, already walking away from your new prisoner. “Tie him to the mast,” you called back. “I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

Later turned out to be three days.

Prince James stayed tied to the mast, refusing to talk to anyone. When you would approach to speak to him, he’d simply pretend you weren’t there, looking out at the waves. The only person he would even slightly acknowledge was Peter, and that’s because you’d send him to the prince three times a day with food and water.

It was also kind of hard to ignore the boy, with how much he talked.

“Are you always this rude to hosts, Your Highness?” You asked at one point on the second day.

Though he didn’t look at you, his jaw had clenched so tightly that you were sure his teeth would shatter.

“Some prince you are,” you said mockingly, curtsying before returning to your perch at the wheel.

But then the storm you had predicted the day you’d first captured him arrived.

It was the worst one you’d seen in months, sheets of rain coming down hard. Waves crashed into the bow of the ship as you steered into them. Luckily you had a pretty heavy cargo underneath, making it harder for the wind to knock you over and you’d managed to get the sails secured in time, which made your job a whole lot easier.

You were no stranger to surviving storms.

Your heart jumped in your throat as you realized that the prince was still tied to the mast, soaking wet and unable to move. “Fuck,” you swore as you searched for a crew member who wasn’t doing their best to keep water off the deck. “PETER!”

The boy looked up from where he’d been using a bucket to toss some of the collected water overboard.

“UNTIE HIM!”

He knew who you were talking about immediately, running to the main mast and untying the prince.

Your hair stuck to your skin, salt water stinging your eyes as you shouted, “GET HIM BELOW DECK!”

You didn’t see the prince again until hours later, when the storm had died down. You and your men were utterly exhausted. You’d been at the helm the entire duration of the storm, and your arms were aching, despite your years of experience.

Sam had offered to take over for you, allowing you the rest you so desperately needed.

You dragged yourself to your quarters, ready to change into a set of dry clothes and collapse into bed.

But when you entered your office, you were surprised to find Prince James on the chaise lounge that you’d acquired on one of your raids. He was half asleep, his arm hanging off the side.

You cleared your throat, frowning when he didn’t stir. You did it again, a little louder.

Nothing.

Fed up, you shoved his leg, glaring down at him as he jerked awake. “What the hell are you doing in my office, Your Highness?” You spat his name out at him like it was an insult.

“This is where Peter told me to stay until after the storm was done,” he said, glaring right back.

“Did you lay all over my nice chaise in your soaking wet clothes? Or did you at least wait until you were dry?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

Prince James scoffed. “Of course, I did. I’m not a heathen, unlike someone.”

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” you said, mocking him with an over-exaggerated bow. “What ever can I do to make your stay more pleasurable?”

“Are you always like this?” He asked as he watched you move around the office.

Stripping off your overcoat, you tossed it on the chair. “Like what?”

“Overly sardonic?”

Your white shirt was sticking to your skin and your corset underneath. God, you wanted nothing more to get out of the restricting piece of clothing. You’d been in it for hours, since before the storm began, but you couldn’t do that with him there. You had to wait until you were really ready to retire to your bedroom for the night.

“Are…” Prince James paused, his brows furrowing. “Are you wearing a corset?”

“And here I thought you were unobservant,” you said as you grabbed the journal you kept from the center drawer.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you wear a corset?”

Sighing, you dabbed your feather ink pen on the tip of your tongue before dipping it in the ink pot. Truthfully, you could wait to do your journal entry until the morning–you’d actually been planning to, since you were so exhausted–but for some reason, you just kept stalling. You could simply go to your room and lock the door, avoiding the prince’s company and his subsequent questions, but you didn’t. “If we run into new ships, it’s better for them to think me a man, so I had a few corsets specially made,” you said softly, biting your lip as you scribbled down details of the storm. You’d take inventory of what all had been damaged in the morning.

“Why?”

Huffing, you snapped, “Maybe your parents won’t pay the ransom just so they can get away from your endless questions.”

“They’re not nearly as interesting.”

Startled, your eyes flickered up to meet his, your cheeks hot. You quickly turned your gaze back to the journal, shaking your head. “Royalty rarely is these days.”

“So?” He prodded. “The corset?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, signing off on the journal entry. “Men don’t respect women. I don’t want them to underestimate me just because I was born with a pair of tits and a cunt.” You slapped the journal shut, shoving it back in the drawer. “Besides, women are considered bad luck on ships. It took my crew a while to stop believing in the superstition and accept me as their Captain.”

“That superstition only came about because people believe sailors will get distracted from their duties by a woman’s beauty,” Prince James said, watching you curiously. In his exhausted state, he seemed to forget his filter as he added, “Though I can’t imagine how anyone can not be distracted by you.”

“Who wouldn’t get distracted by the She-Demon of the Seas?” You bit back, a sarcastic smile on your lips. Before he could respond, you headed for the door that stood behind your desk, leading to your bedroom. “You may sleep there until one of the bunks opens up. Or your parents pay your ransom.” Standing in the doorway, you turned back to look at him. The light coming in from the setting sun cast a glow upon his face. He looked like an angel straight out of a stained glass window in a cathedral.

You shut the door, a soft, “Goodnight, Captain,” coming from the other side of wood as you flipped the lock.

Prince James stayed on your chaise for two weeks, and it didn’t seem like he would be leaving anytime soon. All the other bunks on the ship were taken, filled with your crew.

And you weren’t so cruel to force him to go back to sleeping outside, tied to the mast.

Even though sometimes he was so annoying that you seriously considered it.

You’d stopped by a small port town and while none of your men had abandoned ship and opened up a bunk for him, you did grab him a few sets of clothing, a few pillows, and an extra blanket.

Thankfully, he didn’t make any comments on how they weren’t up to his royal standards, because otherwise you probably would’ve fed him to the sharks.

Then again, he hadn’t made any comments like that after the first few days. In fact, he’d been rather… sweet. His demeanor had swiftly changed after you’d allowed him to be untied from the mast. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere, after all.

Other than the depths of the sea, and you didn’t think he loathed your company enough to drown himself.

Maybe.

“You like him,” Sam said as he passed you a mug of mead, the liquid frothing over the side.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you took a long swig, glancing around the deck. It was a calm night at sea, there was no sign of ships on the horizon.

It was a good night to let loose and live a little. Usually, you’d allow the men their drink but wouldn’t partake in it. You’d retire to your quarters before they got too rowdy, though you always heard the music they played late into the night.

James had started joining them a few nights after the storm, when you stopped tying him up.

Some nights, he came to your quarters so late that you were already in your bedroom, though you never could sleep before you were sure that he was on the chaise for the night. You’d lie awake in bed, your corset off, and listen for the tell-tale opening and closing of the door.

Most nights, though, you’d still be sitting at your desk. Whether you were flipping through papers and maps, writing in your journal, or reading from your massive collection of books, it didn’t matter. He’d sit with you and talk. Whether it was for a few minutes or sometimes hours, you’d talk and talk, and you would laugh.

And sometimes, you even felt like a woman. The way his eyes would sparkle in the dim light of the candles sometimes made you think he saw you as more than a captain of a pirate ship.

But that was impossible. Because he was a prince, the heir to one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world, and you were nothing but a She-Demon.

“Don’t play coy,” Sam said as he nudged your shoulder. He wasn’t blind to the way you were watching James joke around with your crew. He was laughing at some joke that Scott made, his head throne back.

“I’m not,” you said sternly. Suddenly, the mead in your cup seemed even less appealing than poison. You handed it to Sam as you stood, brushing off your breeches. “I’m going to turn in. Goodnight.”

Your first mate called after you, though you didn’t turn around. You needed to get away. You needed to get away from Sam and James and the rest of the crew and maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to get away from the feelings that had been blooming in your chest the last two weeks.

You were so stupid. James would never like you, never want you the way you wanted him. You were so stupid for trying to twist your hair into the latest fashions or buying skirts to wear around the ship. You were wearing one now, the loose fabric ending at your shins. Even though it wasn’t nearly as formal as the skirts most ladies wore–especially the ladies at court that James was most used to–it was still a skirt. Even Peter had made a comment that was also sort of a compliment.

But it didn’t matter. It was impractical for a Captain of a pirate ship, and you were stupid for it.

He wouldn’t ever see you as you wanted him to.

Your quarters felt so empty without James there. There were little signs of him all over the room. The two pillows on the chaise, the fur blankets that rested half on, half off. The little stack of his clothing that you’d bought for him. He’d been reading one of your books lately and had left it on the small table by the chaise, a hair ribbon that you’d given him tucked between the pages as a bookmark. It was a new one, Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe, that you’d picked up the same stop you’d gotten his things at.

God, your desk was a mess. Maybe that’s what you could do, you could organize your papers instead of thinking about the way your heart skipped a beat every time you saw the dark-haired prince.

“Captain?”

Speak of the devil.

You turned to see James standing there in the doorway, his fair features illuminated by the candle light. The white shirt he donned was left open, revealing dark hair splattered across his chest. Clearing your throat, you turned your eyes back to the papers on your desk. Your hands were shaking as you tried to organize them, doing your best to ignore how your heart pounded. “Shouldn’t you be drinking with the men and making merry?”

“I have their company every night, they can do without me for a while,” he said, chuckling a little. But when you didn’t laugh with him, he grew quiet. “Captain?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Don’t do that,” he said, taking slow, measured steps towards you.

“Don’t do what?”

He stopped by the edge of your desk, his fingers trailing along the dark wood. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”

Your conversation with Sam from earlier rang loud and clear in your mind. “I’m not shutting you out, Your Highness,” you said sternly, avoiding his gaze as you shuffled through the papers. “Do you wish to get ready for bed? If you do, I can be out of your way in just a moment.”

“No.”

The silence between you was tense as you finally looked up at him. “What do you want, Your Highness?” You asked, hoping he didn’t notice the way your voice wavered.

“You.”

A stunned silence filled the room, your mind going completely blank.

“Surely you can’t be serious,” you said finally as you finally looked up at him, your brows furrowed and your lips twisted in a frown.

“I am.” His blue eyes still shone as bright as the moon reflecting off the sea in the dim light. He whispered your name as he came closer. “Please…”

Shaking your head, you grabbed the papers and turned to shove them in a random drawer, your heart beating against your rib cage like a drum. You were terrified that if he were to look you in the eyes, he’d be able to see the things you felt for him. You’d be done for. A laughing stock. Forget being the Siren, the She-Pirate, the She-Demon of the Seas, you’d just be another woman whose name wouldn’t be uttered without being attached to a man’s. The history books would simply remember you as a prince’s pirate whore, an anecdote before moving onto the story of whatever princess he’d end up marrying.

You jumped in surprise as he came up behind you, his chest pressed to your back. “Your Highness–”

“Please,” he said, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t run from me.” His hands gently covered yours where they rested desk, his fingertips trailing ever so gently from your wrists up to your shoulder. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. He spoke your name like a prayer, like it was the one thing that might grant him the grace of whatever god was looking down upon the two of you.

You weren’t sure you were breathing. Your heart had jumped into your throat and taken residence there and oh, his touch felt like fire on your skin.

“Say my name?” He pressed a kiss to your hair, his right hand toying with the loose sleeve of your shirt. “Please.”

He didn’t order you the way a prince would, the way he would’ve when he was first brought onto your ship. No. He asked. And more than that, he asked kindly. He asked as though it would sincerely bring him joy to hear his name falling from your lips.

“James,” you said, your lips curling around the unfamiliar letters as you said his name for the first time.

He let out a content sigh as your loose sleeve fell, exposing soft skin. “Again,” he said as his head dropped to press sweet, almost innocent kisses to your shoulder. His left hand moved to your hip as his lips traced the freckles he found.

“James, please.” Your eyes fluttered shut as your head lolled to the side, granting him access to the smooth expanse of your neck.

“Please, what?”

“Please touch me.”

A growl reverberated in his throat as his hand slowly bunched up your damned skirts, exposing your bare thighs to the cool air, his calloused fingers tickling your soft skin. You could feel a smirk against your neck as he found you bare underneath. “Oh, darling,” he murmured.

“J-James,” you stammered, your knuckles white as you gripped the desk.

“Yes, love?” He asked, one finger daring to tease your folds. “Fuck, you’re already so wet. Is that for me? Huh? Is that for me?”

“Yes. Yes. All for you.” Your breath was already so labored as you felt your knees go weak.

He reached down, and with one swoop, scooped you up into his arms. “Not here,” he said when you looked at him in surprise. “There will be time to take you on your desk later, Captain, but not now.” He kicked the door that led to your private chambers open, his mouth finding yours as he carried you inside. Moonlight filtered in through the portholes that lined the wall, illuminating the small room. He laid you down on your unmade bed as though you were made of porcelain, his hand cradling your head as he laid it on the pillow.

You’d never been treated so gently, touched as though you might break.

You were not a delicate woman, after all. You were made of the harshest storms, the highest waves, of salt and brine. You held your own when it came to battle. Your crew, your men, loved and respected you. You fought for that.

But fuck, if being treated so softly didn’t bring tears to your eyes.

James stood before you as you leaned on your elbows, watching as he stripped off his loose white shirt, revealing miles of tanned skin and that smattering of dark curls on his chest that had teasing you just a few minutes before.

You breathed out his name as he kicked off his boots, his eyes never leaving your face.

He stood before you in just his breeches, breathing heavily as he looked at you. “I’m going to take my time with you,” he said as he kneeled on the edge of the bed, crawling towards you.

“Oh?” You said as you swallowed around the lump in your throat. You were still trying to process how he could look at you like you were the most precious gem in the world.

James unlaced your boots, letting them fall off the bed. “I’m going to spend all night worshiping you,” he said as he pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your ankle. The beard that he’d grown while on your ship tickled your skin as he trailed his lips up your calf. “My darling girl. My sweet angel.”

Your skin felt like it was on fire as he kissed up your leg, getting closer and closer to the place you so desperately needed.

He stopped at your knee. “May I?” He asked as he tugged on your linen skirt, his eyes smoldering in the dim light. He waited until after you nodded to strip you down, leaving you bare on the bed. When you moved to cover yourself, face hot from the heat of his gaze, he stopped you, grabbing your wrists and holding them back. “Don’t hide yourself from me, my darling.”

With a surge of urgency, you pushed yourself up, your lips crashing into his.

James melted into you, his hand moving to cradle your head as he kissed you. His free hand cupped your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

It took you a moment to realize that the whimpering was coming from you.

He broke away to kiss along your jaw, down your neck, to the valley of your breasts. “Fuck,” he said as he swirled his tongue around the nipple that wasn’t being teased by his fingers. He nipped at it lightly before moving to the other, not stopping until both were hard.

You were even more shocked when he licked a stripe down the center of your stomach, stopping when he reached the patch of curls between your legs. “Wh-What are you doing?” You asked, propping yourself up against the pillows.

“Has no one ever touched you like this?” He asked, blue eyes meeting yours. When you shook your head, cheeks flushed, he frowned. “When’s… When’s the last time you were touched at all?”

Shrugging, you tried to close your legs, but he kept them parted. “A while,” you murmured, trying to hide how embarrassed you were.

In truth, it had been more than a year. And it hadn’t exactly been good. Just a one night tryst in a little port town with a man who thought he was better than he actually was.

None of your experiences with men had made you too eager to go out and try to find your pleasure. They all seemed so… selfish.

“Men don’t really like women that are more powerful than them,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

His index finger hooked under your chin, and he tilted your head up so your eyes met his. “I’ve never desired someone more than I do you,” he breathed. His nose nudged yours before stealing another soft kiss. Before you could stop to think, he was back down between your legs, nosing at your curls. His hot breath tickled your most private area before his tongue swiped through your folds.

You jerked in surprise, eyes blown wide. “James!”

“Shh,” he said as he coaxed you back down. Using two fingers, he revealed yourself to him. “You’re so pretty…” Using a flat tongue, he lapped at the wetness he found, eyes closing.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you sat up on one elbow, determined to watch him. You’d never had a man… taste you like he was. “O-Oh…��

There was a slight sting as he sunk one finger into your heat, carefully curling it. It had been much too long since you’d been touched.

It had been a long time since you’d lost your virtue, but you certainly felt like a virgin again.

“I’ve gotta get you opened up for me,” he said before finding your tiny bundle of nerves and sucking hard.

You saw stars as your jerked in his grip, feeling yourself growing closer and closer to something but not quite knowing what. Wonton moans dripped from your lips as you crept along the edge. You weren’t sure what you needed other than James.

“That’s it, darling,” he said, slipping another finger in and carefully scissoring you open. “That’s it. You’re doing so perfect for me.”

His tender words, mixed with the feeling of his thick fingers inside you and his tongue and how long it had been sent you over the precipice.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, watching with hooded eyes as James slowly withdrew his fingers. The wet digits sparkled in the light as he brought them to his mouth, sucking them off with a moan.

As he pushed his breeches down, you were suddenly hyper aware of just why he needed to prepare you so thoroughly.

He was thick. Long, sure, but it was the girth of him that made you pause. You’d had men before, but none of them quite as gifted.

“Is… Is that going to fit?” You asked, swallowing around the lump that had jumped in your throat.

“Yes,” he said as he crawled between your legs, dropping open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of your stomach. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll go slow.”

You drew him into a kiss, sloppy and deep and hoping it would convey the words that you were too afraid to say.

His cock teased the slick folds of your cunt before carefully sinking in inch by inch.

“James,” you moaned as you clutched onto him, your nails digging into the taut muscles of his back. The stretch you felt around his cock was painful, but pleasant.

Yeah, it had definitely been too long.

“That’s it, darling, relax,” he said, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

You bit your bottom lip so harshly you could taste iron. Your breath mingled with his as he sank in to the hilt, his nose nudging yours. You were almost kissing. But instead, he teased you, keeping his rose petal lips just out of reach.

He rested there for a moment, the both of you adjusting. The waves crashed up against the side of the ship, providing a rather pleasant underscoring to the labored breaths that filled the air.

When you were finally ready, you experimentally rolled your hips up against his, causing his icy blue eyes to pop open.

“Damn it, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moaned as he carefully pulled out before pushing all the way back in. He kept his thrusts slow and deep, relishing in the feeling of you squeezing around him. “You were made for me, weren’t you, darling?”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him close as your fingers threaded into his hair. “Don’t tease me,” you said, pulling him into a kiss.

“As you wish,” he said, picking up the pace.

His deep, raspy moans mixed with yours, creating an unheard symphony as the two of you collided. Bass and soprano. Man and woman. Lover and lover.

There was no doubt in your mind that your crew knew what was happening behind closed doors, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he rocked into you. Their raucous laughter was nothing but static in the back of your mind.

You felt like you were on fire. Every part of you was alight.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent underneath him. Time was completely lost between sweet kisses and soft murmurs, things he whispered to you but couldn’t quite make out. Sometimes you would catch a glimpse of the moon through one of the portholes as it rose higher and higher in the clear night sky.

You saw stars as he pushed you over the edge yet again, leaving you gasping his name.

You clenched around him and James groaned, his nails digging into the soft skin of your back. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna–” He broke off as he pulled out of you just in time for thick, creamy white ribbons to decorate your stomach and thighs. He stayed bent over you, his forehead resting against yours, as he fought to catch his breath.

A giggle escaped your lips, your chest heaving as you stole a kiss.

Even after what you’d just done, it still made you nervous. It was so… intimate.

A slow smile tugged at his face as he returned the affection. “I love you, my angel,” he whispered into the soft skin of your neck.

Three little words. All it took was three little words to jolt your system.

You pushed him off of you, your heart pounding as you grabbed the closest shirt you could find, throwing it on. It was definitely his, judging by how it hung off of you. “Don’t mock me,” you snapped, glaring at him.

This was all a mistake. He had seen it in your face, how you felt about him. You had become what you always feared you would be, just a silly girl who wouldn’t be anything more than a prince’s pirate whore.

His blue eyes were wide with surprise as he watched you. “What in Heaven’s name are you going on about?” He asked, trying to step towards you. He was still completely bare, and it took everything in you not to give in and go to him.

But you wouldn’t be made a fool.

“You got what you wanted,” you said, a snarl on your lips. “Go. Leave me be. You may tell all the men of the court that you bedded the She-Demon of the Seas. You don’t have to dig the knife in anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes, grabbing his breeches. “Is that what you think of me?” He let out a harsh laugh that was more of a cry than anything. “Do you truly think me so horrid that I would bed you for the sheer novelty of it?”

“Men are all the same.” You threw one of his boots at him, feeling very much like a feral cat backed into a corner. “You say all the things you know I want to hear just so you can get between my legs.”

You were lashing out. You knew. You weren’t stupid.

But you couldn’t allow yourself to be so… hysterical. You would lose the respect of your men, your crew, if they knew that you were throwing a fit.

You willed yourself to go flat, your eyes cold and your lips pressed into a thin line. You would be composed, collected. “Get out of my room,” you bit out.

James stood there, looking a little lost. He held his breeches to his chest like an anchor. “What?”

“Get out of my room,” you repeated. “Before I have one of my men throw you out.”

You wouldn’t let any of them see you so naked, but he didn’t need to know that. As far as he knew, you were willing to let every single crew member see you naked if it meant he would be out.

He swallowed, leaving the room with a stiff nod. “Fine.”

The door shut behind him, and you quickly brought your hand to your mouth. Your teeth clamped around your fingers as you tried to muffle the sob that tore from your throat.

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be so weak.

This is what you got for letting him in, for letting him see you.

You quickly dressed, wiping away the dried remnants of him left on your body. You pulled on your breeches, making a mental note to toss those stupid fucking skirts overboard the first chance you got.

Taking a glance in the mirror, you wiped at your eyes. Thankfully, they weren’t too puffy.

You could cry later.

You came out of your room, appearing very much unbothered.

James had redressed, though he had a new shirt since his old one was in the corner of your room. He stepped forward, his lips moving as though to speak your name.

Before he could make a sound, you were crossing the room, opening the door. You were greeted with the lively sounds of music and laughter from the men still enjoying their night. “Sam,” you called out, catching your First Mate’s attention.

“Captain!” He said with a joyous laugh, waggling his eyebrows. “I didn’t expect to see you out of your quarters again tonight!”

“Gather the money needed for a horse,” you said, your tone causing the smile to drop from his face. “We will dock in Marolan in two days. We will give His Highness a horse to get back to his people.”

“What?” Sam said, his brown eyes wide. “Why? What about…” He trailed off, thinking better about what he was going to say. “What about the ransom money?”

You breezed past him, heading for the stern. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, and it would be better to be at the helm and let the salty sea air calm you than toss and turn in your bed for hours. “There are easier ways to get that kind of money than dealing with a prince.”

James called your name, having followed you out of your quarters. “Don’t do this,” he said.

The rest of the crew went quiet, having noticed that something was going down. The music that had rung through the air dissipated.

“I’m not doing anything, Your Highness,” you said as you took your place at the helm. There was an ache between your thighs that you prayed would go away quickly.

It wouldn’t do to think of him anytime you so much as took a single step.

“YOU ARE CASTING ME OUT BECAUSE YOU ARE TERRIFIED OF YOUR OWN FEELINGS!”

Waves crashed against the side of the ship, the only sound amidst the deafening silence.

James was pissed. Perhaps even more so than he had been the first day you’d captured him. His hands were fisted at his sides as he started to climb the steps that led up to the stern. “I love you. And I’m willing to bet all of Ithair that you love me, too.”

“You feel the triumph of a false conquest,” you hissed, standing your ground. “You think me to be a creature you have tamed.”

“I think nothing of the sort,” he said, holding onto the rails. The wind whipped his long, dark locks around his face. “You have me mind, body, and soul, my angel, my darling, my love. Please…”

Your heart was racing. There was a war inside of yourself. You wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms and allow him to hold you, to comfort you. But your head was telling you that this was nothing more than a dirty trick.

The men were watching unabashedly as he came closer. His hand reached for yours, but you snatched it out of his grasp. “I will give you everything,” he said, blue eyes searching yours desperately. “I will give you a throne, a kingdom… me.”

“A She-Demon cannot sit upon a throne,” you spat, taking a step back. “You will marry some princess, someone raised for that life.”

James shook his head, grabbing your hand despite your protests. “I don’t care about some old rule. I don’t want a princess. I want you. I will speak with my father, and–”

Smack.

The slap resounded throughout the air. The prince looked at you in shock, his hand reaching up to hold his cheek.

“Do not touch me,” you said, gritting your teeth. “And it’s your father’s fault that I’m a pirate in the first place. He is the reason for me becoming the She-Demon you hear tavern tales about.”

“What?” He asked, still holding his reddening cheek.

You felt a little bad about slapping him, but you’d made it clear that you didn’t want him touching you and then he did.

“Your father allowed his soldiers to destroy my village,” you said, fury boiling in your veins. “I was fifteen when they came, ransacking our homes, killing our men, kidnapping our women and children. We had nothing to do with his war with our king, but he didn’t care.” Blood trickled from your hands, where your nails had dug so deep into your palms that they’d cut through the tender skin. “More than one of your soldiers attempted to carry me off. I was lucky to make it out alive.”

James had gone silent by now, shock and sorrow written across his face plain as day.

“One of your men chased me all the way to the docks. The only reason I survived was because I made it onto a pirate ship that had docked there.” Most of your men knew your story. You hadn’t tried to hide it, though it wasn’t something that was openly discussed. “The Captain found me and took me under his wing,” you said. “He gave me this ship, but your father is the reason why I’m the She-Demon you speak of.”

“I didn’t know,” he said softly, swallowing down the lump that had lodged in his throat. “I swear to you, my angel, I didn’t know.” He reached out for you again, but thought better of it. “I was only eighteen when the war happened. I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me all the soldiers did.”

“Because you didn’t ask,” you said. “Because we were poor, and the king doesn’t give a damn unless you have a title.” You turned back to the helm, your hands resting on the wheel. “You will get off my ship at Marolan. Speak of me how you wish. The words of a royal mean nothing to me.”

You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head, as though wishing you’d turn back to him and say it had all been a jest. But you didn’t. You kept your eyes ahead as you set the course for the port city.

“Whatever you wish, Captain,” he said, the words half lost in the wind.

You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay as you heard him go back down the stairs to the main deck before disappearing into your quarters.

It didn’t matter.

You’d be at the helm all night.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and you knew it was Sam without even looking. “What do you need?” You asked, your voice cracking despite your attempt to sound tough.

He stood at your side, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you going to punish the son for the sins of the father?”

“He has his own sins to atone for,” you said softly, “Just like his father, just like me.”

“Is that what this is? Self punishment?”

“You heard him.” You gripped the wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. “I am but a She-Demon.”

Sam glanced down to the deck, the men not-so-subtly taking glances at you. “He never called you that, if I remember correctly. He simply said that’s what others have called you. But he never did.”

You didn’t reply, choosing to stay silent as you stared ahead.

If you opened your mouth, all that would come out were broken sobs.

You didn’t speak for James for the last two days he spent on your ship. You stayed out of your quarters during the night, and when he finally awoke and left your office, you snuck in and locked your bedroom door.

You stood atop the stern, looking down at the tiny port town that you had docked at. Your men took the chance to explore some of the shops since this was an unplanned stop.

James stood at the top of the ramp that led down to the dock. You’d had Sam give him enough gold to pay for a horse and then some.

The sun gleamed off his dark hair, tied back with the green silk ribbon that he’d been using as a bookmark. He looked like a man from a romance novel, one of those Shakespearean heroes.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes startling even as far away as he was. “Goodbye, Captain,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed, looking away. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

Hot tears pricked your eyes as he walked down the ramp, the sound of the gold clinking in his pocket fading as he got further and further away. Ignoring the men still on the ship, you stormed down the stairs and into your quarters, slamming the door to your office shut and locking it.

It was only once you were alone that you allowed yourself to collapse. You fell to your knees as sobs wracked your body. The feelings you’d been fighting had fought their way to the surface, breaking through your glass exterior.

How had he done it? How had the prince wormed his way into your heart? He had slipped through the bars of its rib cage prison and sunk his teeth into what you thought had been a frozen chunk of ice.

You rubbed your face, trying to contain yourself to no avail.

But something caught your eye.

There, on the chaise, was a folded piece of parchment.

You crawled over to it, feeling no shame at how pathetic it was. Your hand covered your mouth to muffle another sob as you recognized James’s handwriting. Some of the letters were runny, misshapen from the tear stains that littered the paper.

My darling angel,

If you’re reading this, it means that I’m gone. You’ve cast me off your ship and out of your heart.

But I can’t let you think that I was simply trying to conquer you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left without telling you, and you won’t even look in my direction, which is why I have taken to paper and pen.

I meant what I said that night. I love you with all of my soul. You surprised me with your wit, your strength. I never dreamed that I would meet a woman like you, and I mean that in the best way possible. If you would allow me to, I would make you my wife, my queen.

It is not hard to guess that you think I couldn’t see you as anything more than a pirate, but you’re wrong. The softness that you try to hide calls to me. I want to take you in my arms and show you that the world will not always be cruel to you.

My father was wrong to allow his soldiers to do what they did. It was not your war. You were innocent. If there was a way for me to turn back the clock and stop it all from happening, I would. I would give you your village back, your family back.

Alas, I am incapable of doing so, despite how badly I long to. So I must do the next best thing.

I will be a better king than my father. I will do my best to ensure that there are no more innocent people punished by cruel, battle hungry men.

I won’t allow any more little girls to be sentenced to running from grown men who should know better.

I wish I could give you back your girlhood, my love. I wish I could see you with daisies in your hair, untouched by the horrors of the world.

If you will not allow me to love you up close, then this is how I shall love you from far away. I will do better than my father, in your name.

Is it peculiar of me to say that I miss you already? You are simply above deck, and yet, my hands long to hold yours, my lips feel like winter ice. Must you really leave me alone?

I am fearful that when I leave the Medusa’s Revenge, I shall never see you again.

I haven’t slept in the past two nights, but my nightmares invade my daydreams and make me see visions of a life without you, the life I am facing ahead of me.

How is it that I have fallen so deeply in love with you in such a short amount of time?

Perhaps, if I am lucky, and if you are feeling so gracious, I will hear your voice one last time before I go. Is it so greedy of me to wish to hear my name falling from your lips one last time? To feel you gaze upon my face, even if it is with scorn?

When I am back in my castle in Ithair, I shall pace the royal gardens and lament that the red roses the gardeners so painstakingly tend to cannot compare to thy sweet lips. I shall cry each night that the furs that line my bed are not as warm as your embrace.

Will you miss me as I miss you? It may be wrong of me to hope so, but I do. I shall miss you ‘til my dying breath, and perhaps even beyond then.

Will your siren’s song call to me beyond the grave? I suppose I shall have to wait and find out.

I will speak of you fondly, lovingly, for you were never the She-Demon the bastards tried to make you out to be.

Forever yours, my love,

James Buchanan Barnes

If any of your crew noticed that your eyes were swollen and glassy when they came back, ready to set off, they didn’t mention it.

Almost two years had passed.

Two years, and yet you were still crying yourself to sleep most nights.

Prince James had truly done his damage in the short amount of time he spent on your ship.

Well, he wasn’t a prince anymore.

When you’d docked in Genia about four months ago, you’d been given the news that his father, King George IX, had died, and King James II had been coronated.

You’d avoided docking at any of Ithair’s ports since letting him go. You refused to risk seeing any sign of him.

Your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

You kept his goodbye letter close to you at all times. When you went into battle, the tear stained parchment was tucked inside of your corset, right over your heart.

You read it every night before you went to sleep, the parchment soft from how often it was unfolded and refolded.

“Captain,” Peter called to you from the deck. The boy had grown so much in the time since James had left. He was no longer the lowest member of the crew. He’d been given more responsibilities, and if you were being honest, was the person you trusted most on your crew, behind Sam, of course.

“Yes, Peter?” You had one hand on the wheel, and you were half lost in a daydream.

“There’s a ship coming up on the starboard side,” he said.

Frowning, you turned to your right, and sure enough, there was a ship much closer than you first thought it’d be.

Had you really been so deep within your own thoughts?

“Do you know whose ship?”

“Ithair. Navy.”

Ice ran through your veins as you turned back to the helm. “Tell the men to ready themselves, but we are not planning on fighting. We’re going to avoid them if we can.” Your hands were shaking as you turned the wheel, planning on making a sharp left and avoiding them completely. “Get Sam,” you said after a moment as your hands refused to stop trembling.

Your First Mate was there within seconds, taking over. “I’ve got this,” he said, ushering you away. He knew how you were feeling with just a look. “If we really need you, I’ll send Peter.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as you went to your quarters, shutting the door before you began to pace.

It couldn’t be him… could it?

Surely he wouldn’t taunt you with his presence like that. After all, it would be cruel. There was no way he didn’t have some princess waiting for him.

But then again, wouldn’t you have heard of a royal engagement when you heard of his coronation if that were the case?

No. You couldn’t think like that.

Besides, he most likely wasn’t on the ship.

A king had better things to do.

You grabbed your jewel encrusted dagger from your desk, sliding it into its sheath. Your cutlass was already ready at your side, just in case.

But when you opened the door to step out onto the deck, you were caught by surprise.

Your ship hadn’t been steered away as you’d wanted it to. The Ithairian Navy ship was right alongside yours, a plank connecting the two. And more than that, there was no fight going on.

King James stood before you, grinning as Peter rambled onto him about all that had happened since he left.

A board creaked under your foot, and his head snapped in your direction. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes met yours.

He looked older, more worn. Maybe a little tired. There were shadows under his eyes, and his hair was longer.

It was tied back out of his face with a green silk ribbon.

Your mouth went dry as you stared at him, not daring to move any closer. “Have you come to kill the Siren?” You asked, though you didn’t bother to reach for your cutlass.

If he truly wished to gut you, you would allow him to. It would hurt less than living with the pain of knowing that he wanted you dead.

“No,” he said, his voice soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I’ve come to wed her.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart constricting. “Do you now?” You asked slowly. The letter that was pressed to your chest felt like it was burning your skin.

“Well, I truly hope so,” he said as he came a few steps closer, his hands behind his back. From what you could see, he had no weapon.

Perhaps he truly wasn’t here to hurt you.

“You see, you’re not exactly an easy person to track down,” he said, stopping a few feet away. “Especially since you haven’t docked at any Ithairian ports in almost two years.” He reached inside his coat, pulling out a small box.

“Your Majesty–” Your voice cracked as you snuck a glance at the people watching you. Your crew and his were staring, grins on their faces as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

James ignored your question, looking at the ring with a soft smile. “It took Sam sending me a letter from the last place you’d been docked at, telling me where you were heading, to find you.”

The man in question had the decency to look a little sheepish. “It’s time for something new,” he said, leaning against the railing of the steps that led up to the stern. “You haven’t been happy with this life ever since James left.”

He wasn’t wrong, per say, but you thought you’d hidden it better than you apparently had.

“Well…” You turned to look back at James, shaking your head. “You… You can’t marry a pirate. Or even just a commoner.”

“Why not, my love?” He asked as he got down on one knee, holding the ring up for you to see. It sparkled in the late afternoon sun. “I thought that the point of being king was that I made the rules.”

Your heart was racing faster than it ever had before. “I… I keep your letter on me,” you blurted out, stumbling over your words like a newborn foal. Your fingers trembled as you reached through the neckline of your shirt, into your corset, before pulling out the worn piece of paper. “I read it every n-night before I go to sleep.” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a tear hit your hand.

“Have you missed me as I’ve missed you, my angel?” He asked, not moving. His own eyes were glassy, his speech thick from emotion. “I’ve dreamed of you every moment, waking and asleep.”

“I have. I have, James,” you gasped out, your chest heaving against the corset. “I’ve missed you so much.”

His hand reached for your left, grasping it softly and bringing it to his lips. “Will you marry me?” He looked up at you with pleading blue eyes. “Please, my angel? I shall never ask for anything more if you say yes.”

You fell to your knees in front of him, your hands grasping his face as you pulled him in for a kiss. “Yes,” you whispered against his lips. The salt from both of your tears lingered in your mouth, but you didn’t care as you pulled him into another kiss. “Yes, I will marry you.”

The ring somehow found your left finger, sliding on with ease.

“I love you,” you said as you pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I was too afraid to say it then.”

“Shh,” he said, caressing your face. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling.” He stole another kiss, a smile creeping up on his face. “And I love you, too, my siren.”

“James?” You said, your nose nudging his. His breath mingled with yours in the most delicious way. Your chest was pressed against his, your arms wrapping around his neck. It felt so good to have him in your arms again after two years.

You’d thought you’d only get this in your dreams.

“Yes, my angel?”

“Does this mean I have to wear dresses?”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #royalty au #pirate au

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homestuckexamination · 3 years

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Seers & Mages

Good lord- These are two long posts from Magua-Vida and an anon about Mages and Seers. Y’all really like long talks about this stuff huh? @.@

Magua-Vida:

For that Seer VS Mage ask,

Seers seem more prone to look for outside confirmation for the knowledge that they seek like citations for a thesis while Mages defer confidently to their own acute judgment more often. This isn’t a hard rule, though. They’re tendencies or leanings.

It’s partly instinctual for Mages as well as relying on their own experiences and direct observation. Sollux is the Cassandra. Nobody listened to his predictions most of the time because, to them, he sounds like he’s constantly bemoaning how pointless a lot of their actions are. And to a degree, he’s right. But, he didn’t make the greatest success of his time by serving as the equivalent of a Doomsday Weather Forecast.

He had to act on his knowledge himself. His actions served for the best of everyone still alive he cared for, but he’s also tired of all the murderstuck and plot, so he decided to join in with Aradia and hopped off the meteor adventure despite Karkat’s request that he stay. Meulin is also similar. It’s never revealed how she came to suddenly know that Meenah may have red feelings for Karkat. Might be gossip travelling fast. Either way, she just excitedly purrclaims that she “JUST KNOW[S] IT”. Even when Meenah is getting uncomfortable with her shipping talk, Meulin insists even when Lord English is out there about to go perma-kill a lot of ghosts that may include her. She also gives Horuss *very* poor advice as a moirail- telling him to smile despite not feeling happy and starting a relationship with him in the first place for a ridiculous reason of seeing their dancestors being moirails.

Mages tend to do better by acting on their vision themselves, as long as they’re not putting words in the wrong people’s mouths. They are doers as much as dreamers who don’t need much prompting from others to act on their wisdom for a better world.

Seers are more often the type to look at other people to reach their own conclusions- sort of like how Rose continues to look for meaning by parsing through what she thinks SBURB is throwing at her. Seers are the mission control of the group. Their role is to guide other people through, toward, or away from their aspects. This is one of the most explored classes in the comic, so this part is longer since we have more examples Anyhow…

It’s sort of like comparing how Rose & Terezi are usually good at directing other people, but not much when it comes to themselves. Rose is relied on by her group, especially Kanaya, as a source of reliable information- data that she dug up to guide her pupils to victory. However, she tried to look for any hidden morals to the story and struggles with not being able to when there’s no signal from anywhere that indicates “hey, this is the ultimate reveal that you’re supposed to learn about”. Oh, and Doc Scratch manipulated her by dangling iffy info in front of her nose like a kitty treat with a helping of non-answers, omission, and misdirection. Oh, and she and a fellow Seer got drunk for a period of time. Perhaps… it’s better that she looks for her own meaning or make her own.

Terezi is known for being good at being perceptive and manipulative. Even Karkat tells Vriska that. She dissects how other people think so, to summarize her words, they won’t end doing something stupid and irrational in the chaos. But, she’s also highly dependent on others’ input. Her self-esteem issues, romantic attachment to the wrong people, and even her blind justice, are all strongly connected to external sources, but also her own poor choices.

Kankri, like Meulin, is a more negative showcase of a Visionary. He aims for his group to be more sensible as a community by teaching them to be extremely sensitive to trigger warnings by scolding and preaching to those who violate his gospel. His stubbornness and trigger-happy lessons end in him failing to lead the Alpha Trolls, similar to Meulin’s insistence in making her ships sail in sweet seas. His Alternia self is a more positive Prophet, at least. One of his m9n9- I mean, dial9gues include him trying to look for a fault in his methods (and of course he never sees any). It’s like any teacher trying to see a flaw in his syllabus.

Seers do better by directing and guiding other people, but also need to reexamine their gathered research and not be too reliant on dubious sources, lest their worldviews and sense of self would be easily shattered.

To summarize,

Class:Source of Knowledge:Action

Mages:Internal:Act on Their Knowledge Themselves

Seers:External:Guides Others

Again, these are just overgeneralized wording. There are times when Seers act themselves like Rose destroying LOLAR ruins to find secrets and Terezi rigging the bet for Vriska’s fate as much as there are a couple Mages that guide and teach others to follow their ideals. It’s how often they do and where they conduct their understanding that set them apart. If anyone has anything to add or construe, feel free to do so.

Of course, both classes can be blinded in different ways. Blind Prophets and all. But that’s a different topic for another time.

Anon:

For me, the difference between mages and seers are that mages tend to act more subconsciously while seers tend to act more consciously. Mages are based more on understanding while seers are more on knowing. Mages experience their aspect through different means and because of that, it gives them an understanding of it. Due to the experiences they accumulated, they act subconsciously, not needing to take time to consciously think because they act more on the subconsacious thoughts that they already have which allows them to constantly be in motion during a predicament, making them passive thinkers but an active class; on the other hand, seers are more active with their thoughts despite being a passive class. Because of their ability to see with their aspect, they tend to know more than to understand. Like, they may know exactly what happened but they don't immediately know why it happened. They tend to take their time to consciously think of the situation they are presented while mages understand the situation because of the countless experiences they have with their aspect, leading to an immediate subconscious conlusion based on their understanding (Basically, seers are more on the 'what' and mages are more on the 'why'). With the knowledge of seers and them being a passive class, they tend to guide people with their aspect while mages are more solitary and independent because they have their own understanding of what they should do. Of course, there are times when mages can act seer-y and seers can act more mage-y but that is circumstantial. Mages can also guide people with their understanding of their aspect and seers can also be solitary. To me, I believe that all of us have a primary class, a secondary class, etc. So based on the other classes that someone may be leaning towards to, that person being either a mage or a seer can be affected by this factor. Do know that I only described mages and seers as pure classes without having any mixture of any of the other classes so it's fine to not feel a complete relation to these classes if anyone is a primary mage/seer because their secondary and other classes they lean toward to may affect how they act.

#Mage #Seer #Class #Fanon #HSE #submission

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mariamermaid · 3 years

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The Heir of Silberstein; luftige Turbulenzen (ch. 3)

“breezy turbulences”

Fred Weasley x fem Reader

Summary: As a new school year approaches in Hogwarts, the students are surprised when Dumbledore introduces a group of German siblings joining the school. The royal family of fortress Silberstein is now sent to Hogwarts to learn the matters of a normal teenager life. …

Words: 3.k

Masterlist

Having siblings, especially brothers wasn´t always easy.

But the true meaning of how different Hendrik´s and August´s thinking, wasn´t fully apprehended by you until the Quidditch game two days later. The impact of the letter hadn´t left your body.

In the two days, you hadn´t talked to either of them. You hadn´t even seen them, they avoided each other as well as you and Ruth. The youngest of the four of you, grasped the situation barely. It didn´t help that she felt even more left out. Hendrik and August were stubborn in their own ways and knowing you couldn´t convince them to talk, you at least decided to show up to the Quidditch game. Ruth sat with you in the Gryffindor tower, together you shared a bowl of salted caramel popcorn, which your little sister happily munched on.

The tower wasn´t as filled as the week before, the game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but the true Quidditch fans still showed up. However, it still surprised you when Fred and George joined you.

“Oh Ruth, this is Fred and George Weasley, friends of mine.” You turned to the Twins and gestured towards your sister. “Guys, you know my sister Ruth, right?”

Gentlemen-like in a humorous way, just like their personalities, they shook her small hand. “Pleasure meeting the second princess”, Fred smiled. “Always at your service!”

Ruth blushed and giggled; you could already tell, that she liked them.

“How´s the game going anyways, Y/n?” Fred now asked while George tried to steal popcorn from your sister. You peered over the pitch, furrowing your eyebrows. Last week at the game, it had been warm and sunny, but today? Thick, gray clouds hung over the school and individual, cold droplets of rain started falling. The wind was hollering around the towers and felt like a whip against your skin.

“They play back and forth, but it´s not really coming together.” Fred followed your eyes and shrugged. “They had worse weather conditions before, I´m sure they handle it.”

“No, there is something else going on between them”, you shook your head and Fred, who noticed your wary eyes on your brothers, raised his eyebrow. He could only guess that some kind of argument had involved between August and Hendrik, but he realized, that you didn´t want to talk about it. At least not with Ruth there. A look of worry spread in his face and you pressed your lips to a thin line, not knowing how to answer it.

Soon the rain became thicker and gusting wind pushed the players around. Hendrik, who had apparently caught sight of something, which you only guessed as the golden snitch, August left his position to follow him. Draco, Slytherin´s actual keeper seemed to shout something at him, but you couldn´t hear the words. August continued to ignore him and follow his brother. Shoulder to shoulder they bumped into each other and Ruth hissed in fear they´d crash.

“Solche Idioten!”, you muttered in between breaths. (What idiots!)

The entire audience watched captivated. Whatever was happening, it didn´t have much to do with the actual game.

“Vielleicht solltest du einmal auf mich hören, jedenfalls bevor du deinen Arsch auf den Thron platzierst!“ August huffed and Hendrik´s eye shot angrily at him. (Maybe you should listen at least once to me, before sitting down your ass on the throne!)

“Albrecht wird uns ausstoßen noch bevor Vater es merken wird, siehst du das etwa nicht?“ (Albrecht is going to expel us before father will even realize, don’t you see it?)

He continued while they circled the towers. Hendrik tried to get rid of him, but August was determined.

“Das ist Schwachsinn, Albrecht hat kein Recht auf die Krone und das weiß jeder! Nur weil du ihn nicht leiden kannst, ist er nicht gleich der Bösewicht!“ (That´s nonsense! Albrecht has no right for the crown and everybody knows it! Just because you don´t like him, doesn´t mean he is a villain!)

„Und Vaters Krankheit, die aus dem nichts auftauchte?“ (And father´s illness, which showed up out of nowhere?)

August took a run-up, before crashing into Hendrik again. The oldest lost his balance, not completely, but enough to knock him off his course. The game was put in the rear for them.

“Unterstellst du seinem treuesten Diener ihn zu vergiften?! Das ist verrückt!“ (Do you ascribe his most loyal servant, to poison him? It´s madness!)

„Denk doch nach, es ist die einzige Erklärung! Vaters plötzliche Krankheit, uns wegzuschicken, damit er die Krone an sich krallen kann!“ (Think about it, it´s most logical explanation! Father´s sudden sickness, shipping us away, so he can clutch the crown for himself?)

„Du hast nicht ein Beweis dafür!“ (You have not a single proof for it!)

„Er hat Mutters Ring!“ (He has mother´s ring!)

Quiet, sudden and unexpected. None of you ever talked about it, not that there was much to talk. The two brothers floated in the air, still and starring, as if somebody had pushed a pause bottom.

It had been a night like this, stormy and dark. Rain was falling cold as ice daggers; Ruth was barely a year old. Queen Johanna was on a trip with her Pegasus, but time passed and she didn´t come back in the evening.

Two days passed and the whole kingdom searched for her, all they found were last rags of her dress and a deadbeat Pegasus, that was barely breathing. It laid at the side of the river, where the deadly streams came to an end and the waterfalls left nothing, but a breeze in the air. Severe injuries and a trauma, which caused all happiness to seize within the once relentless creature.

Queen Johanna died in an accident.

She left behind a broken king beneath a heavy crown and four siblings as half-orphans. It felt like an even deeper bond was formed in the family, but in reality, you drove apart.

The bond was nothing, but a façade and the crown was nothing but pure pressure.

“Du Lügner!” (You liar!) Hendrik screamed and he pushed himself forward on his broomstick. He smashed right into August, who was taken by surprise by his sudden rage. August couldn´t grab the broomstick in time, falling off and trying to hold onto Hendrik. But the oldest was blind in rage.

They spun and twisted around, quickly sailing towards the ground.

Ruth, the Weasley twins and you, as well as many other spectators, jumped off their seats. You barely heard the yell that escaped Ruth´s lips, you watched in horror as the two tumbled into the depths. Shock captivated you, leaving your body numb and unable to fulfill any commando from your brain. All you did was stand there and watch.

You were sure, that you heard the collision with the ground, even though you were hundredths of feet away and flinched at the hard sound. A gasp for air left your mouth and your lunges inflated.

The prior shock rolled of your body and finally, your feet reacted. As fast as possible, you´re legs almost felt like leaving the ground, you sprinted towards the two boys. None of them moved a muscle. Madame Hooch was already at their side, inspecting the incident and several players from both teams joined her. Ruth, who wasn´t half as fast as you, approached with the twins dogging her. She immediately started crying, but Madame Hooch was quick to make her statement; a few broken bones and a heavy concussion, that knocked them out.

They would heal.

But that was none of your concern. Whatever had happened between them, it was important enough to make Hendrik snap. It was important enough, to make them go against the Quidditch game, not to mention in front of the entire school. It was important enough, to fall into a potential death just to prove a point.

It constituted a supreme importance.

And the only two people, who knew what it was, laid unconsciously in the dirty grass.

Ruth, who was kneeling besides her two brothers, tears still in their eyes, didn´t noticed how you stepped away from the scene. George had taken your place at her side, putting an arm carefully around her. But Fred realized you leaving and started following you. To say you were angry, was an understatement.

“Y/N, what happened there?” He asked, while trying to catch up with you. You were incredible fast to his surprise and even angrier. Something was seething inside you.

“I don´t know exactly!”

He grabbed your wrist to stop you from further escaping. People often were afraid of touching you, fearing it would end in a punishment, but Fred didn´t care. Or at least he didn´t have the time to give it much thought.

“But you do know something?”

He paused, eyeing you; the wind had messed up your neat hair and your face was convulsed with anger. You didn´t look like the princess he had first seen, you looked like the storm brewing in the skies, waiting to collapse down to earth.

“You all do, you´re hiding it.”

You waited seconds and even minutes, avoiding his glance and pondering, how much you should tell.

“Our father, the king, he´s ill. Very ill.”

Fred raised his eyebrow, not comprehending how bad the situation actually was.

“We don´t how long he will survive anymore.”

And as simple as that, you blurted everything out. From your father´s sudden sickness and the idea to form a new school. How you felt this apprehension towards Albrecht and how Hendrik prepared for his new title.

Fred Weasley stayed quiet and for the first time, he suddenly looked smaller next to you. He just began realizing, or at least grasping, of how much weight was on your shoulders.

When you came to an end, he was left speechless and not knowing what else to do, he pulled you into a tight hug. Pressing your head against his chest and he felt your constant shivering.

“I don´t know what to do, Freddy.”

You admitted quietly, barely a whisper. His hand came up to the back of your head, softly stroking down to your back. “I don´t like saying it, but you might be right.”

You sniffled and lurked up to him, he replied with an apologetic smile. “Well after your bad feeling towards this Albrecht guy-.“ The German name sounded only poorly pronounced. “And the fight between Hendrik and August, something is most definitely wrong.”

A soft chuckled escaped your lips, even in this seemingly hopeless situation, he made you laugh.

“So, what do you recon I shall do?”

Carefully, just now realizing, how close he had come, hell Fred Weasley was touching a real-life princess! His hands gently stroke your cheek to finally cup your face.

“You won´t be doing anything, at least not alone!”

“So, tell me again, what exactly are we doing?” George asked nervously, while walking up and down in front of the infirmary. Obviously, Fred and you told him.

“We need to know what August said”, you repeated calmy. The second twin, who had just recently found out about the heap of secrets and potential threats, was clearly caught off guard.

“Why do you think it was August, who drew the final straw?”

“I know Hendrik and what he thinks, if he knew anything of great importance, he would´ve told me.” George nodded understanding; he was coming to understand the plan.

“But if there is an actual threat, we just do what?” He then asked tensed, his brother shrugged nonchalantly. “We go to Germany!”

You threw a warning glance at Fred, making him go quiet at the end of the sentence. This had to be handled with care.

“Breaking the school rules?!” George exclaimed even louder and you rolled your eyes.

“What, are you afraid Weasley? After playing pranks and breaking rules since your birth?” Your daring and ironic comment shut up him up. You knew it was a lot to comprehend within only minutes. It had been a few hours since the game, Fred and you had made up the plan in the mean-time.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione and Harry suddenly approached and even though her questions wasn´t directed on the tense atmosphere, she very well took notice of it.

“We´re waiting for my brothers to wake up”, you answered frantic. Harry furrowed his eyebrows; he knew the anticipating thrill of an upcoming adventure.

“Don´t worry, Y/N, I´m sure they´ll be fine. Boys are naturally stupid.”

Harry threw his head into his friends’ directions, making him lose focus on your intentions.

“Hey!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the book in her hands into Harry´s arms. “Go on and at least make yourself useful.”

She gave you an excusing smile, before turning to leave towards the library. Just before they turned the next corner, you suddenly sprinted towards her again. “Hermione!”

“Fred and George wanted to show me a few places this weekend, so don´t worry, if I´ll be late or anything”, you tried to explain as casual sounding as possible. Her brown eyes wandered back and forth between you and the twins, until she gave up sighing.

“Don´t do anything stupid or get caught.”

As you stepped back to the twins, Madame Pomfrey quitted from the infirmary.

“Oh Miss Silberstein, your brother, August is just awakening!”

Fred eyed you warry from the side. “Do you want us to come with you?”, he asked whispering, but you shook your head. “No, this is family business. Anyways I´m sure they would get angry, if they found out I told you. We don´t have to aggravate something that´s bad enough on it´s own.”

You entered the large room with beds placed into rows. August was laid in the back, while you caught a glance of Hendrik sleeping behind a curtain in the front. The distance between the two beds was awfully noticeable.

August was pale and seemed confused, but as he sat up, he noticed you approaching. His eyes winced, forming even smaller slits and his lips became a thin line.

“Good you´re up, how are you feeling?” The politeness in your voice never felt so fake. But as his sister it was your job to ask about his condition. August saw right through you, not that you gave much of a try to hide it, but he decided to play along. Years of formal etiquette and behavior had shaped you into a concept for society. Perfect and pleasing to the observer.

“Head still hurts as well as my arm, but I´ve had worse.”

Silence settled, while you nodded. Before you could make another polite comment, he spoke up again. “Ask. Ask me. It´s why you´re here.”

It hurt you, that he assumed, that you only came for the sake of information. It made it worse that he was right.

“What did you tell him? What do you know?”

August sighed; the whole scene was as uncomfortable to him as it was to you. But he was aware, that you would believe him. He didn´t show it, but in this very moment, he couldn´t be more grateful. Yes, he showed his cold not-caring exterior, but he relied deeply on you.

“Albrecht, the night before we left, I saw him talking to one of the ostlers. He had mother´s ring.”

Unwanted, a gasp left your lips and you gripped onto the side of the bed. Whatever you had expected, you clearly hadn´t braced yourself well enough.

“August, are you sure, it couldn´t…” He nodded steady, ignoring your stutter.

“I didn´t believe my own eyes at the time.”

“She was wearing the ring when it happened, the ring disappeared with her…”

Your breathing was irregular and the thoughts inside your head were racing at the speed of lightning. If Albrecht had the ring, your mother wore when she had the accident, then he must´ve been with her. He lied, saying he was filling papers the entire day and no one even scrutinized it.

If he was with her, he knew what happened. Maybe he was the reason it happened…

Neither August nor you noticed how Hendrik´s eyes opened and inaudible, he turned his side into your direction. Behind the curtain, you didn´t see him, how he starred at the blank fabric. How his jaw tensed, when he remembered your father with Albrecht at his side, entering the family´s private wing. Tears formed in his eyes just like then, he knew something was wrong by their faces. That day, the world collapsed right beneath his feet and ever since then, he tried his best to put it back together. He wanted it to be over, but everything came rushing back. It felt like the day where your mother died, haunted him and your family. He didn´t wanted to believe what his brother said, but he knew what it meant.

“I didn´t tell you this before, let´s not be stupid”, August finally spoke up. He could only imagine what chaos was still pelting inside your head. The sentence was surprisingly mature for August and his usual temper. “It could be a weird coincidence.”

August was right, it could be. But there was something inside you that told you, it wasn´t.

August was right, you shouldn´t be stupid. But you had a promise to keep your family safe.

So, you nodded slowly.

“We´ll wait, till Hendrik awakes and I send an owl home, making sure he won´t get it. Then we can discuss it. We have to be careful.” You had to play perfectly to make him believe. Each movement you made, each breath you took, it had to look innocently. It had to look real.

“You should rest and try not to kill Hendrik, or get killed, when he awakes.”

August chuckled and you offered a small grin. “I´ll take care of it.”

You stepped away from his bed, giving him a nod, then leaving the room. A small glance towards Hendrik; eyes closed and steady breathing. When he was to wake up, you´d be gone.

Miles away, hopefully as close to Silberstein as you possibly could, before someone would get wind of it.

“So, how does it look?”

“I hope you´re as good in sneaking away, as you are at playing pranks.”

Fred and George exchanged looks.

“We´re going to Silberstein.”

--------

tags: @ britishspidey @ perfectlysane24 @ acoolnight

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred and goerge weasley #harry potter imagine #mariamermaidimagine

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vxvxan · 3 years

Text

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒'𝚖 𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 / welcome aboard, vivian yu, student #34. we are excited to set sail with you ! has anyone told you that you look like park sooyoung? according to our records, you hail from las vegas nevada, usa, prefer she/they, are demigirl, and are here to study communications. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your money — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + bright, + cunning, but also - manipulative. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the high sea grill. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed your grandfather’s military pocketknife. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi it’s nia <3 this is my second muse vivian and i apologize soooo much in advance. lmao. their bio and info is below the cut. please like and im me to plot i am so so excited to bring u this angst bitch

vivian grew up in las vegas. they were born to not one, but two politicians. their mother was a state representative and their father was mayor of their town. ever since she was a kid, vivi was forced to spend her free time at donor events, fundraisers, and shuffled around at various events for causes around the city. everyone in town knew vivian by name and face. people sucked up to her: neighbors, teachers, law enforcement, anyone hoping to get ahead by way of her parents’ favor. it gave her a heightened sense of importance that quickly got to her head.

by the time she was a preteen, vivian believed herself to be above the law and above those around her. by age 14, her father was running for governor and her mother held ambitions of working on a national level in washington dc. an only child with her parents both busy and in the public eye, vivi had absolutely no one to turn to. in her mind, no one would understand her, anyway. once she was 15-16, she was hanging out with an older crowd, skipping school, sneaking out and getting drunk to see if anyone at home would notice ( they didn’t. ) her folks didn’t take notice of vivi’s bad behavior until her actions began affecting them politically. you couldn’t run a campaign on ‘safe cities’ when your daughter was being brought home by police at night and found lingering around sketchy clubs on the vegas strip.

trigger warnings in next paragraph: drugs, drug overdose, death

vivian’s mind began to be wired in a really terrible way: the more trouble she got into, the more her parents seemed to notice she existed. maybe they were screaming at her, but they were communicating with her. and that was more than she’d had before. one night at a fundraiser, vivi met a boy who was a fellow politician’s kid. he invited her to a back room with a few other teens where she was introduced to cocaine. unfortunately, vivi became hooked right away. over time, she found comfort with drugs and with this group of teens; the only people who seemed to understand her and care about her. a few months later, she was at a party with this boy and their friends when he overdosed in front of her. his death profoundly affected vivi. she became even more withdrawn, talked to almost no one, and was cruel and cold whenever she did. after nearly being disowned by her parents for the overdose incident, vivi agreed to go to rehab. once she was out, they were sent away to live with their uncle in boston, massachusetts, so vivi couldn’t mess up their politics anymore. she stopped looking for attention from her family and instead wanted nothing to do with them.

( triggers over )

in boston, vivi attended public school. quickly she fell into her old ways, getting caught up with a bad crowd, ignoring school and rules, and partying constantly. at school, she met a kind student named harper and was very drawn to her. the girl was so good and everything vivian wasn’t. vivi knew she had absolutely no business getting involved with someone so pure and kindhearted, but she couldn’t help herself. harper was ... different somehow. for the first time, vivian fell in love and felt love. the two dated and vivi really thought she could be a good person with her girlfriend’s influence. however, the school year ended, vivi was shipped off to boarding school by her parents, and she regressed all over again. knowing the path she was on and knowing her girlfriend deserved much better, vivian cheated on her right away and broke things off. ever since then, vivi has cheated on every single person she’s ever dated and maintained fierce independence and selfishness.

other info: vivian may look poised and sweet from time to time, but don’t let it fool you. it’s her political upbringing that allows her to put on a faux aura of compassion and authority. vivi is still the same mess they have always been. they will be a bitch form time to time. they take kindness as an insult and as a method for someone to get something from her. it’s not her fault, really. it’s how she was taught. they’re impulsive, stubborn, ruthless, and self-destructive. they are very very intelligent and could do something with their life, if they ever learned to channel her good qualities. vivian just doesn’t know they exist. vivian is bisexual with a strong leaning towards women, but who knows ? putting her into a box would be impossible. she’s an entp, virgo, chaotic neutral if any of that means anything to you. <3

if you like this i will im you to plot !! i’m soooo excited to bring vivi to yall and excited to see if she grows up or changes at all here lol

wanted connections ?? i am so open to anything don’t feel limited by these, but here are so ideas to help us:

a former best friend who vivi fucked over

someone vivi started getting feelings for and then abandoned

friends with benefits

even better, enemies with benefits

someone vivi cheats on for exams, homework, etc.

someone vivian has a soft spot for but won’t admit

someone vivi is super protective of & will fight over

partners in crime ( warning u have to be ready to commit real crimes lol )

??? idk literally whatever ?? ?

angsty drama

#seasintro #triggers marked in bio accordingly !!

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snowbellewells · 4 years

Text

“A Cottage by the Sea”

And now, here’s the first real non-Prologue part of “A Cottage by the Sea”, my @cssns20 Enchanted Forest AU! Thank you SO much to those who have sent comments and offered enthusiasm for the Prologue of this one; I hope you’ll enjoy this continuation and keep going on the journey with me. There’s absolutely more Lieutenant Duckling development here, but I’ll have to beg your patience as the supernatural elements of this don’t really begin to show up until the end of this section and aren’t explained until Part Two.

**Thanks once again to @searchingwardrobes for this amazingly lovely cover art that I still can’t stop staring at! And to @tornadoamy for being my beta reader.

Summary: Princess Emma has always been drawn to the shores of Misthaven, where the sea meets the shore near her parents’ castle. When an unknown boy washes up on the sand, with eyes as fathomless and blue as the waters that brought him to her, he soon becomes Emma’s best friend, her partner in crime, and her other half. But the tides give and the tides take away, and as her blue-eyed boy sails in her father’s navy and risks all in defense of those who made him family, unexpected danger and challenge will try to tear them apart, and might well show him just where he came from that day he first appeared to her from the sea…”

Prologue

Part One

Three years later...

Morning dawned on the day Killian Jones was to set sail once more - for his first long distance voyage as lieutenant - much as it had done every other morn of his young life so far. Granted, that included many of those years he could not fully recall, but the sky streaked in radiant hues of pink and orange drove troubled thoughts from mind in his excitement to set out on his chosen course. At last he would be moving toward his goal: a ship of his own, a captaincy in King David and Queen Snow’s Navy, and a position that gave him the right to court the woman he loved - in truth, his soulmate - and seek her hand in marriage.

It was true he had not yet spoken those words aloud to anyone. Princess Emma, who had found him alone and washed up on the beach like forgotten detritus so long ago now, but had never treated him as such, had never treated him as anything less than family and a cherished companion, had no idea how his regard had changed. He could not yet bring himself to speak the desires of his heart to her - not when he was an orphan without name, station, or profession. She was the Crown Princess and sole heir to the monarchy of Misthaven. He must first have something to offer her, make something of himself, even if he knew she would argue with such a line of thinking. His will was no less resolved.

Granted, this would not be the first time he had shipped off on a naval excursion. Since the day he had turned fifteen, old enough to attend the naval academy along with his studies at Emma’s side, he had taken every opportunity to embark on short voyages with openings - first as a cabin boy learning the basics, and then as a quickly promoted ensign, which he had just a week prior followed with the award of a lieutenant ranking. Even if only to appease his own sense of duty and honor, he wished to serve the royal family who had given him a home and place to belong, and to feel himself worthy if he could ever bring himself to share his true heart’s desire with his love.

He was standing at his bureau, struggling to flatten the stubborn cowlicks always determined to stand up from the back of his head, when there was a short impatient knock, Emma’s voice calling out, “I hope you’re decent! It’s me!” and then his door burst open to reveal the lovely focus of his thoughts.

Emma’s blonde hair was a soft, wild cloud of gold about her head, mussed and unbound as if she had been running completely wild all morning, and if Killian had not been so utterly startled and flummoxed by her sudden appearance in his charmber, he might have laughed at the way he could just imagine his foster mother of sorts, the Queen, shaking her head in affectionate exasperation at her daughter’s less than polished care for her appearance. As it was, he gaped wide-eyed, in a sort of frozen trance as she stumbled to a halt just over the threshold, her cheeks, which had shown just a slight flush of exertion, going bright red and spreading over her neck and collarbones appealingly, making Killian’s unbidden mind wonder uninvited if every inch of her skin turned red when she was embarrassed and just how fetching that look might be. Squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head futilely in an attempt to clear such an improper vision from his inner eye, he had to gulp down several breaths before managing to croak out, “Emma, you’re here! I thought we were meeting in the main hall?”

She blinked back at him wordlessly, seeming to have a bit of trouble in finding words herself. Her liquid green eyes, so pure and bright Killian had often thought they looked like two jewels plucked from the richest treasure trove and set with the exquisite frame of her perfect face, seemed to sparkle and glow even more than usual, if a bit dazed by the sight before her. “Oh...I… uh… that is…” she stumbled gracelessly, bringing a bit of teasing humor back into Killian’s bearing where he had been fighting his own nervous embarrassment at being caught half-dressed and unprepared for her arrival. “I mean,” she finally managed to steady her voice a bit and carry on more clearly, “you are probably right. I just couldn’t wait any longer. I truly believe you might sometimes take longer to present yourself and get ready than I do. And besides…” she paused again, looking down at fidgeting hands and catching her lower lip between her teeth as she hesitated. “I wanted a moment with you all to myself - without everyone else hovering - before you left.”

Killian didn’t quite know how to respond to his princess’ admission - not that he ever minded being near Emma, however it came to be. Yet, it did not seem right to remind her that he was at her beck and call whenever she might wish. She was the one whose days were so often consumed of late; from breakfast until long past sundown at times, helping her parents more and more with royal duties as they strove to prepare her to someday take the throne herself, and also to introduce her to all the young princes and nobles of their acquaintance - not wanting to see her take up such a heavy mantle alone. He often tried not to think of those parts of her parents’ efforts for their daughter’s future. Neither of her loving parents would force her to marry where she harbored no feeling; they cherished True Love too much ever to keep their only child from finding the same. And yet, Killian couldn’t help but be glad when he found himself out at sea at the time royal balls and state dinners were held back in his adopted homeland. Seeing young Viscount Booth attempt to charm Emma with sweet, flirtatious talk at the banquet table and luring her in with whispered jokes and party tricks stole his appetite every time. And watching while Prince Baelfire of the Golden Coast placed his hands a bit too low on his princess’ waist as he swept her into reels and waltzes - more dances together at once than were considered acceptable - it was all he could do not to storm over and cut in before things could escalate, or the blush on Emma’s cheeks was determined to be of certain pleasure rather than mere flattery or humored politeness.

Something told him that none of this was at all what Emma wished to discuss. Could it be possible that she had some unspoken feeling for him she wished to express as well? Had he not been alone in his attention as he watched from the sidelines, sure she was meeting a better match than he each time? Had she instead been watching him as well?

It seemed nearly impossible to consider, and yet he held his breath, not wanting to do anything which might shatter the moment as Emma began to cross the room toward him on silent feet, her eyes never leaving his.

When she at last came within arm’s reach, she gently reached out her hand, fingers lightly brushing over his shoulderblade. The barest contact caused a frisson of electricity to shiver along his skin, awareness that it was Emma touching him with such delicacy affecting him beyond his power to control. At least until a sobering thought crept beneath the sensation.

At the moment she had entered his room, he had stood with his back to the door, and while he had twisted partially round to see who had burst in, he realized in clarity that froze him in an entirely different way that Emma was getting her first unobscured view of the scarred expanse of his shoulders and back she’d had since they were children, before she would have known what the marks left behind meant. He himself barely remembered the details of how they had been administered, but he knew they were unsightly - troubling, at best - the jagged criss cross of lines, some faded almost white and others still an angry red despite having been long healed. He knew before she spoke that her touch, which a moment ago had felt like Heaven, was prelude to questions he could not fully answer nor wish to discuss.

“K- Killian?” Emma whispered, her featherlight touch so gentle he wanted to shudder at the feel of it. She was tracing the darkest welt of the long ago lash that seemed to curl around his left shoulderblade down to his ribs. “What is this? Were you…” she swallowed as if forcing herself to say it. “Were you whipped?”

“Aye,” he grit out, anxious to pull away, don his shirt - though much too late to do any good - and hide it away once more. “It would seem so, though the memory of it is no more really than fragments and flashes. Not much else would leave behind that sort of damage.”

She shook her head, as if refusing to conceive what the evidence meant. “But you were so young when you washed ashore. No one here in Misthaven would dare.” She fumbled through her dawning comprehension, chin trembling, and bright eyes filling with tears that began to spill over silently. “That someone would lash a boy so young, mistreat him so horribly. It’s despicable. Oh, Killian…”

Her fingers shook as she made to smooth them along his skin once more. But in his shame and agitation, a flare of defensive anger went through him and he jerked away from her touch. Her words and tone felt all too much like pity, reminding him of the fear and doubt that occasionally - in his weakest moments - whispered to him that he had always been some foundling the Princess pitied, a charity case she had taken on as her own. He knew better; Emma had been his dearest friend, closer even than a sister, since the day they met. But the flood of conflict within was too much in that moment. Chest heaving, eyes stormy, he put several steps between them and shrugged his shirt on fully before facing her again.

“I don’t need your sympathy!” he hissed, not sure what had suddenly made him so angry, only that he was. The last thing he wanted to seem was needy and pathetic in her eyes, not when he was so desperate to prove himself strong, capable and worthy.

Emma’s glittering eyes went from teary to flashing with spite of their own in seconds, flinching back as if his words could physically strike her. “You ungrateful arse!” she seethed, looking for all the world as if it were the worst curse she could think of to fling back at him. The tenderness that had so affected him moments ago was gone, but all he could focus on was that the pitying look had fled as well. “Forgive me for caring!”

“Oh aye, you care alright,” he continued, not sure what was making such vitriol spew forth from his lips - and at Emma, of all people - but he couldn’t seem to stop it. It was as though all his worst fears about why she had stayed by him all these years, and why her family had ever taken him in to begin with, were finally spilling out into the open and demanding answers. “Your little project is hurt, and so you swoop in to the rescue.”

His fiery princess was shaking her head now, almost in denial; her hands fisted at her side, trembling in fury, even as those tears that had gathered in concern now poured down her cheeks in frustrated anger. “How dare you?” she spat, stepping up to be toe-to-toe with him once more. “You know it isn’t like that...don’t you?”

And just like that all the fire and fight drained from him at the lost quality of her question, the pained uncertainty in her voice as she searched his face for the truth. Once again, that soft, open, lovely face that he knew as well as his own - better, even - was his undoing. He couldn’t bear the hurt in her expression, the worried furrow in her brow, the pinched little bow her rosebud lips had become, knowing that he had been the cause. A bone-deep sigh rattled up from his chest, his raised shoulders falling. Dipping his head to catch her crestfallen gaze, Killian placed a gentle finger beneath her lowered chin, tilting her face up once more as he wet his lips and struggled for an apology that would suffice. He didn’t miss the way her eyes followed the path of his tongue across his lower lip or the increased flutter of her pulse, but - though it gave him hope - it was not the time to catalogue such responses.

“Emma, I’m sorry,” he finally offered simply. “Of course I know your care is genuine. You have been my best friend all these years - ever since you found me - and have given me no reason to doubt you. My own doubt and insecurity got the best of me. I did not wish for you to see what was done long ago and feel sorry for me. Not when I’m trying…” he swallowed hard, realizing he had reached the point of baring his soul, and knowing he needed to do so - both to help her understand his overreaction just then, and to leave with his heart at peace when he set sail that evening. “Not when,” he continued as steadily as he could manage, “I hope to prove my mettle, my strength and courage to the kingdom and to myself. I hope to return a decorated lieutenant, worthy - if you’ll have me - to seek your hand and court you properly.”

His princess’ eyes widened at his words, her mouth opening on a sharp, indrawn breath. She did not look shocked - perhaps she had guessed at his feelings already? - but the hope lit up across her face was magnificent to behold. “Truly, Killian?” she whispered, her voice soft and gentle as if she couldn’t bear to alter the air around them after such a declaration. She nodded rapidly, biting her lip against a few more renegade tears, though these were welcome emblems of joy. “Of course I would have you as a suitor. I have wished for it and hoped you might feel the same. I… I barged in here this morning hoping to confess just that to you before you left.”

Once more, she touched him tentatively, one trembling hand resting lightly on his shoulder as the other came up to cup his cheek. “You are already more than worthy. I have met no one as suited to me as you - nor will I ever. You have nothing to prove, Killian. Not to me, or my parents, or even this kingdom…”she paused, drawing a fortifying breath before capturing his gaze once more. “Yet I know you well enough to understand there is something yet your soul must seek, some answer you wish to find. Just know that I will be waiting here when you return, ready to accept your courtship with open arms.”

Killian’s eyes fell closed for a moment, his forehead coming to rest with hers as he tried to absorb the swirl of emotions welling between them. After all his yearning to set out, his preparation and his wondering, he wanted nothing more than to stay there with Emma. She tilted her face up to meet his as he lowered his mouth to hers, seeking just one first kiss to carry with him. As their lips met, a warmth suffused him, at once everything and more than he had dreamed, and like nothing he could have expected. Emma was all sweetness and light as she hummed lowly in the back of her throat, opening to him as the hand at his cheek trailed back to toy deliciously in the hair at the nape of his neck. Everything else faded away for a few precious, blissful moments, before he forced himself to pull away, breathless.

Emma stumbled forward, lips still seeking his own, dazed and pliant and blinking up at him curiously.

With agonizing effort, Killian shook his head, against the desire to surge forward, capture her mouth again, press her up against the nearest flat surface, and let their explorations run free. He was meant to be proving his honor, not losing it. Chest heaving, he brushed his thumb along those tantalizing lips, but then pressed a kiss to her forehead rather than diving back into temptation. He meant instead to seal a promise. “Emma, my heart, I love you. Perhaps I always have, before I even knew what those words meant. To know we understand each other is a blessing I had barely hoped for.”

Here he pulled her into his embrace, her arms immediately wrapping around him as well and her golden head nestling against his chest. Remaining like that for several quiet minutes, he could only hope and pray that the bond they had forged, the shared feelings would see them through this temporary parting. If she loved him too, then it was easy to have faith. “Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you,” he murmured softly in her ear, a secret promise for her alone to keep.

Smiling up at him, a pleased, teasing quirk to one side of her grin, his princess replied. “Seeing as I feel the same for you, that is very good indeed.”

~~***~~

Several weeks later, the voyage underway and well out at sea, Killian Jones still carried that moment with him, never far from the forefront of his mind. They were days yet from Agrabah, but making good time and so far had experienced smooth sailing. Their neighbor to the South had long been an ally, despite the distance between their two countries, and Killian relished seeing once more the arid land with air full of desert heat and exotic spices. He had just begun as a cabin boy the last time he had visited - and all of the sights there had seemed unimaginable wonders. Though none had meant any true harm, the older sailors had certainly been entertained by his wide-eyed gaping at the open air markets, the monkeys and brightly colored parrots, the endless expanse of sand, and the Sultan’s palace rising up from it with its stunning domed top that seemed made of pure gold. He’d been barely sixteen, and blushed furiously at the different manner of dress - the first harem girl that had brushed by him in the market, dark-lashed eyes blinking up at him and gauzy fabric of her attire more than a bit transparent despite the draped layers, had nearly made him swallow his tongue, blushing to the very tips of his ears as his crewmates hooted with raucous laughter and slapped him on the back hard enough to knock him over.

Still, despite those rather awkward moments he had enjoyed seeing a place so different from Misthaven’s forests and hills and rocky beaches. He tried to store up every detail to describe for Emma upon his return. She very much wished to see the kingdom for herself, but due to the distance and time involved in making the journey, it was not as yet a trip she had been allowed to embark upon. It seemed that several years ago at some diplomatic summit or gathering of numerous royals she had met and bonded with the Agrabahn princess - Jasmine. The two had exchanged correspondence ever since, courtesy of the Queen’s message birds, and they had much in common. Though Killian had only seen this Jasmine from a distance, Emma swore that she was a funny and bright soul who longed for adventure and excitement, and to make her own way in her world, not merely to be a demure ornament on a throne; indeed, much as his own beloved princess desired. Even now, Killian bore a message from Emma to the future Sultana with him, as they would be visiting and bringing gifts to the royal family upon their arrival.

He was looking out over the horizon as it darkened toward evening, mulling over the fact that Emma need not worry about being a mere figurehead or failing to make an impact in her future rule. Already she touched any life she came in contact with; her warmth and the goodness of her heart were unmistakable, her beauty was praised the kingdom over, and all who encountered her spoke of how like her mother and father she was - without airs, hard-working, dedicated in her caring compassion. She had long since marked his life for the better irrevocably with her kindness.

Killian’s musings were abruptly stopped however, as he registered just how rapidly the darkness before him was falling over the waves. Where the sea had been calm, the wind was now whipping up, the swells choppy, and the boat beginning to rock wildly up and down so much so that Killian had to clutch the railing for dear life to keep his feet. Most of the crew had gone below for the evening meal, but he could already hear alarmed yelling and feet pounding back up on deck as all ran to reclaim their stations against the coming storm.

Even as he took up the line to help maintain their course, a cold slide of disconcerted fear ran through Killian’s gut. The sudden shift wasn’t natural; the entire maelstrom blindsiding them when moments ago it had been sunshine and calm as far as the eye could see. It didn’t alter his fight to do his part and keep them afloat, but his heart dropped with the belief that this squall seemed almost alive, intent on dragging them to the depths.

A wall of water rose on their left just as the ship’s bow dipped on the rocking sea beneath them. It hit the vessel broadside, dousing them all and sending many skidding over the slick wooden planks. A sickening groan could be heard even over the wailing of the gale all around and the slap of the water on all sides. Horror filled the hearts of those on board who could now see that the monstrous wave’s impact had snapped the main mast. With cries of warning and alarm, men leapt out of the way of the heavy falling beam, all but that immediate threat momentarily forgotten.

Killian himself missed being flattened, but another sailor fell in his way as he dove to the side. Stumbling toward the siderail, he caught himself just in time, only to have the ship rock and shudder once again, rising only to have a bolt of jagged lightning flash across the blackened sky, seeming just above them.

Somehow a spark caught the whipping sails still aloft, and they were soon aflame, despite the rain and waves. They were going down, the possessed tempest beyond their ability to fight in a matter of minutes. Killian heard the Captain calling for the lifeboats, and he ran to help free the dinghies while there was still a chance to board and lower them. With every passing second, more water was rising on the deck and surely weighing them down, sinking to rise less with each rolling wave.

Unfortunately, as he focused on the wench to free the lifeboat, a flaming piece of the rigging overhead snapped and swung down from the sails, the fire and heavy weight attached catching Killian in the shoulder where he was already at the edge and sending him overboard. He hit the water hard, the cold shocking and the strength of the waves pulling him under. Fighting his way back to the surface, he was slammed against the side of the ship, the back of his head knocked hard enough to make his vision waver sickly. The others above might get the lifeboats free, but they would never survive these waves anymore than their mothership. Killian fought to stay afloat, managing to grasp a scrap of the downed mast as it swirled by.

He was being pulled further away from his ship, and it was all he could do to keep his head above water. There was no way to fight the currents back to her. Moments later though, that proved to him a blessing in disguise. Horror overcame him as suddenly, the raging waters seemed to open into a cavernous whirlpool, otherworldly and dark. His ship and all his comrades were pulled into its maw like a tiny toy boat circling a tub drain. There was no escape, and he could only watch as the whole was sucked down out of sight, the hugest wave yet crashed down after, and sailors, ship, and whirlpool were all gone with a loud, sucking finality he could hardly believe.

There was nothing left but the wind, the waves, and Killian clinging to the one shattered piece of wood beneath him, struggling to stay afloat. He had never seen or heard of a storm with such sudden and decided malevolence, as if it had blown up expressly to swallow their ship.

Unfortunately, there was little he could do about it, and the blow to the head he had taken against the ship’s hull was affecting his perception, making his movements sluggish. Fighting to cling to his makeshift raft and continue to hold his head aboe the waves grew harder and harder as shock and the cold set in. He didn’t consciously give up, but his grip loosened on the wooden board, his paddling grew lethargic, as his eyes closed and he slid beneath the water.

~~***~~

Even as he began to sink beneath the waves, Killian heard a strange sort of singing echoing through the water. No longer was the wind howling and the water slapping against his skin; instead he felt suspended and weightless, floating lower, but no longer fighting. At peace. For whatever reason, he wasn’t struggling to breathe, feeling his lungs fill and burn for air. No panic set in as he had always imagined it might if his ship were to wreck and he drowned.

A lovely song, a voice with notes that echoed beautifully in the water grew in volume and seemed to surround him with a suffused sort of light. The hazy brightness and the gentle voice encircled him, though it made no sense, and the light and comfort of it made him think of Emma. At that, he did attempt to kick back up toward the surface, hating the thought of causing her pain when he did not return to her. Yet those dulcet tones soothed him once more, and he ceased his short-lived struggle. What seemed a gentle hand, though he couldn’t see clearly or understand how it was possible smoothed across his brow.

The singing around him surged and swelled, and then he felt the grip of hands beneath his arms as he was hauled upward to the surface, at a speed he couldn’t fathom. His awareness seemed to lag, failing him again for a stretch, and then he felt the pull against him letting go and sand and pebbles beneath him. He’d reached shore. Staggering and half-crawling, he lumbered forward dazedly, enough to feel he would not be pulled back out or drowned by the tide. He fell bonelessly to the sand beneath him, his energy sapped and his consciousness wavering. Once more he was shipwrecked - a lone survivor for some reason that was beyond him.

Blindly, Killian felt someone roll him carefully onto his back, and a rich, melodious voice - the voice he had heard singing underwater - spoke sweetly at his ear. It was soothing and almost familiar as it eased him to rest. “You will be alright now, Killian. Trust me,” the voice assured him. “This will all make sense when you wake. You’re safe here.” And with that, he once more succumbed to the haze that swallowed him.

Tagging some shipmates who might enjoy: @cssns @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @stahlop @ineffablecolors @let-it-raines @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @mayquita @thislassishooked @drowned-dreamer @carpedzem @kday426 @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @thisonesatellite

#cssns20 #cs ff #lieutenant duckling au #a cottage by the sea #part one #Enchanted Forest au

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charcubed · 3 years

Note

I love the way you trust your own opinion, you always sound like you're right, and I wish I could be like you. But I have a question. Have you ever been right about a movie/TV show meta reading? To be more specific, have you ever been right about a ship?

LOVE TO BE BASICALLY TOLD "YOU'RE VERY STUBBORN"

(I am. It's true.)

I have indeed! When I watched Black Sails, I was correct at every turn, over and over. I didn't watch the show while it was in progress–it was complete by the time I got to it, and I bingewatched in a week–but I watched it with zero spoilers. Along the way though, I was systematically correct about every character's sexuality, every ship (as in romance not pirate ships LOL), and every metatextual piece as I went along watching it. I livetexted to my friend lol. And I was correct about every piece of deliberately-subtextual story aspect too, because lo and behold, every creator quote I've encountered after watching has only validated or emphasized my meta writings. It's kind of bonkers, actually. I've yet to find a single piece I've been wrong about, I think? (I write very spoilery meta for Black Sails @freedom-in-the-dark / mostly @ gaypiracy on twitter)

This is part of the reason why I tell people with complete seriousness that Black Sails is the most validating unparalleled media experience I've ever personally engaged in: because aside from the fact that it's a complete masterpiece, a compelling narrative, an intricately woven story about stories, and a whole host of other things that make it perfection... Black Sails also confirmed for me, repeatedly, that I know what I'm talking about. Pure validation heroin directly into my veins, really.

Aside from that, there are really only 2 media properties I've written or shared meta specifically arguing "this queer ship is intended to become canon": Johnlock and Lokius. Both are unfortunately still in progress, so we shall see!

(I mean, a million years ago I also argued Damon/Elena from The Vampire Diaries was going to be canon / endgame, and that ended up being right. But y'know. Not really the same shit.)

EDIT: wait I’m adding something to this. I think there’s something to be said for the fact that like... as I often say, I can only call it like I see it. Queer subtext / queercoding can be in a story, and it’s a matter of whether or not the powers that be allow it to be brought to fruition. That’s the one thing that can never be fully anticipated, because it’s an out-of-narrative factor. (Supernatural is a prime example of this, obviously, as a censored text.) And all I can personally analyze is the story at play!

#anonymous #asks #writing meta for stevebucky is about pointing out subtext not anything having to do with proposed canonicity ever #and writing meta about supernatural in those last 2 weeks ended up being a totally different ballgame none of us could've anticipated #because chuck won lmao. but interestingly enough what sent me on the meta spiral I'm on as we speak re: this #is an old meta I wrote pre-finale predicting what was to come #and I expected it to be a subversion but instead... it WASN'T subverted and that is the POINT. which is insane. and not ship specific.#but anyway! hope this helps

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

The Sea’s Mesmerizing Trance

Summary: The Ericson pirates venture forth into an unknown cavern where the sound of singing turns everything into chaos.

Word Count: 4399

Read on AO3:

It was a beautiful day out at sea. The clouds were a pure, fluffy white and the sea’s water was a clear crystal blue. The birds above lazily cawed here and there as they searched for a nice snack to devour while the Ericson pirates enjoyed the peaceful afternoon. The sounds of a sparring match rang throughout the air.

Brody slid backwards with a confident grin as she dashed forward with her training sword. With a well placed step she shifted her weight and sent her weapon crashing down towards Mitch. Her love grinned and blocked the attack with ease. He spun around his wooden dagger with a smirk as he looked at his wife. “Just watch, I’m gonna win this match,” Mitch declared proudly.

“Oh?” Brody returned the expression. “Is this going to be like last time we sparred and you ripped your pants trying to do a badass move?” Her words made Mitch grow embarrassed and a frown appeared on his lips.

“Whatever, I’m gonna kick your ass this time,” The street rat ran forward and began to send a flurry of attacks at Brody. The auburn pirate had a sturdy defense though and continued to block the moves with ease. Brody would wait for the perfect opening. She had sparred with Mitch so many times over the years that she knew all of his tells. Brody parried and blocked some more moves. Mitch dashed around this way and that, slashing and spinning his blade around to get in the winning move.

After a while Mitch had grown cocky in his fighting and she suddenly spotted his opening. Dancing around his few quick dagger jabs, the auburn pirate lunged forward with a powerful attack. But as soon as she did so a smug smirk appeared on her husband’s lips. Mitch sidestepped the attack and quickly sent his blade slicing upwards, disarming his wife. Her sword flew up in the air and Brody fell onto the deck.

“Looks like I win this time, Brodes,” Mitch caught his love’s sword in his hand then pointed it at her. Brody let out an annoyed groan before an idea appeared in her mind. She was about to turn the tables on her love. Getting up, Brody cupped Mitch’s face and kissed him passionately, making him drop both of the training weapons.

Brody pulled back with a confident grin. “Are you sure I haven’t won?” The auburn pirate walked away and immediately became overwhelmed by her own romantic power move. Mitch stood there in a happy daze, still processing what had just happened. Brody continued to walk forward. She was sure to be quiet as she strolled by the hammock on the upper deck.

Ruby and Aasim were peacefully sleeping there. Ruby’s arms were wrapped around Aasim who had a soft smile on his face while he napped. His hand was intertwined with Ruby’s and the two continued to cuddle as the hammock rocked with the gentle waves that crashed against Ol’ Kickass. Ruby mumbled something and moved her head closer towards her husband who sleepily kissed her hand and fell back asleep.

“Come on, Marlon, please!” Willy begged as he held Garbage who was hissing rather insistently. “Play that new song that you picked up at the last town!”

“Yeah, please!” AJ looked up at the blond pirate with big eyes. Rosie whined too in agreement as Tenn gave her some pets. He was silent but Marlon could tell the teen also wanted to hear the song.

“Ooo, are you about to play the flute, Mar?” Sophie walked forward, her hands casually placed behind the back of her head. The swords on her sides clinked as she walked and the sun shone brightly on her thumb braces. Her warm smile made Marlon’s heart flutter and he glanced at the ground as he spun the flute in his right hand.

“Yeah, Willy, Tenn and AJ wanted me to play that new tune I picked up,”

Rosie barked at his answer.

“Oh, and Rosie too,”

The pitbull’s tail wagged at those words.

“I’d love to hear it too. I bet it's a great one to dance a jig to!”

“It is,” Marlon smiled up at his best friend then he looked over at the others. “Alright, I’ll do it.” The blond pirate’s words made the others cheer. Taking a deep breath, Marlon placed the flute up to his lips and began to play the tune. It was a happy, joyful tune that had a clear, playful edge to it.

Willy bounced up and down and began to dance right away with Tenn and AJ. Garbage bounced on his head, hissing loudly but not moving. Sophie laughed and clapped before Tenn pulled her into the dance. The redhead pirate’s smile grew as she locked arms with her brother and spun round. Her dancing caught Marlon’s eye and he felt his heart warm. Turning round he began to dance around Rosie who hopped this way and that, barking and panting happily. Omar walked by with some new ropes for one part of the rigging when AJ and Willy spotted him.

“Omar, dance with us!” Willy exclaimed and spun in a circle while hugging Garbage. The possum hissed somewhat happily as she looked up at the street rat.

“Maybe after chores,” Omar smiled at the pirates.

“New chore just got added,” Sophie grabbed his arm and pulled him into the jig circle. “Mandatory jig time!”

“Woooo!” AJ beamed and linked arms with Omar and started up the dance again. The group laughed and smiled as the waves rocked the ship, the force of which shifted the small planks of wood Prisha and Violet sat upon while on barnacle duty. The ropes creaked as Violet and Prisha held on for a moment due to the force of the wave.

“Shit, that was a big wave,” Violet took one of the barnacle scrapers and got back to work.

“Yes, it was unexpected,” Prisha began to work again. It took some navigating and angling to knock off the barnacles on the side of the ship with one hand but Prisha made it work. The couple continued to work in silence for a few moments before Prisha glanced over at her wife’s hand. A part of her felt frustrated that she couldn’t hold Violet’s hand and unbarnacle the ship at the same time. Violet glanced over at Prisha who felt slightly embarrassed by her stupid frustration and had returned to work.

“After we finish this chore you want to cuddle for a bit?” Violet’s words made a smile form on Prisha’s face. The blonde pirate didn’t have to look to know the answer.

“Yes, the barnacles aren’t bad today. We should be able to finish this in no time!” Prisha declared and returned to the task with new determination and vigor. Violet smiled softly and returned her focus back onto a stubborn barnacle that wouldn’t let go of the ship.

Ol’ Kickass moved a bit to the right as Clementine turned the wheel. A happy, peaceful smile was on her lips as she took in the salty air. Nothing felt more natural to her than guiding a pirate ship. She continued to gently move the wheel as the ship cut though the water and moved to the next unknown location that the Ericson pirates had in mind. Clementine’s gaze was focused on the sea when all of the sudden she felt arms wrap around her waist.

“Hugs are the best,” Louis whispered and kissed her cheek before he rested his head on top of hers. Clementine chuckled softly as her husband melted into the hug. The two lived in that moment and let the cool air blow around them. Clementine lifted up one of the captain’s hands and placed a soft kiss on it. Louis smiled and gave Clementine continuous kisses on the cheek.

“Louis,” Clementine smiled and giggled before her eyes caught sight of something that made her pause. There, a short distance away, were two large, jagged rock structures that spanned many miles. So much so that it would take forever to get around them. A small opening stood between them.

“I’ll get the others to drop anchor.” Louis gave his love one final kiss then walked away. “Alright everyone, let's prepare to drop anchor!” His loud voice caused his crew to look at him and woke up Ruby and Aasim. “Aasim, meet me in the cartography room in five minutes!” Louis instructed. The pirates all nodded and began to get to work. Willy, Tenn and Marlon worked to drop anchor while Sophie teamed up with with Brody and Mitch to close the sails.

“Someone should be in the crow's nest. We’re nearing Dead Eyes’ territory so we need sharp eyes!” Louis calmly spoke to his crew.

“I can be in the crow’s nest!” AJ immediately volunteered himself and ran forward towards the captain. Louis smiled and ruffled AJ’s afro.

“Alright, I’m counting on you, little man,”

AJ beamed at Louis’ words and he gave a firm nod before scampering off towards the rigging.

“Careful for the right corner of the rigging! It needed reworking,” Omar called out to the youngest pirate who gave a thumbs up and continued to climb up the rigging.

“Louis, I’m ready when you are,” Aasim poked his head out of the cartography room. The captain gave a nod and disappeared into that room. Aasim immediately pulled out the map of the area and flattened it onto the table. He moved a few items to make sure the map didn’t curl up. “I’m guessing you wanted to know whether or not there’s a way to get around that huge rock structure out there safely?” The cartographer looked up at the captain.

“That's right,” Louis sat down in a chair and stared at the map. His eyes studied it carefully and he soon noticed that the huge obstacle that stood before them now wasn’t on the map.

“You see it, don’t you? This map tells nothing of that area before us. But what it does show is that the area to the left and right of this structure are dangerous.” Aasim pointed at the map that was marked with different points to avoid. The entire area surrounding the rock structure was covered with warning marks. “We thought that we could cut through Dead Eye’s territory by going straight through the middle. This structure doesn’t change that. The only risk is that we don’t know what's inside.” Aasim looked at his captain who was deep in thought.

“Then we’ll prepare the cannons and make sure everyone is armed. That's all we can do. I don’t want to risk anyone’s life by scouting it out by rowboat first.”

Louis’ decision seemed sound and Aasim nodded and rolled up the map. “I’ll let Clem know the plan,”

“And I’ll let the crew know to prepare,” Louis stood up, his pirate coat swaying lightly with the abrupt movement. He strode out of the cartography room and started to share his plan with his crew. Prisha and Violet got back up onto the ship and started to gather the weapons while Mitch worked with Brody and Willy on setting up the cannons. Clementine was in a discussion with Aasim about the plan to sail through the opening of the rock structure.

After about a half hour of making sure they were all set the anchor was pulled up and the sails were set at half mast. Louis began to climb up to offer to switch look out duty while Clementine guided Ol’ Kickass towards the entrance. Her eyes wandered round and saw the lush green plants and trees that covered the large, jagged rocks. Fog covered the entrance to the area, curling around the ship as it slowly moved through the greenish water below. The clouds had turned a more ominous grey and the waves were picking up in intensity. Clementine could feel her stomach turn; she felt sick. Mitch, Willy and Brody stood by the first set of cannons while Violet and Tenn stood at the ready to switch the height of the sails at a moment’s notice. Sophie, Marlon and Aasim stood on the other side, their hands on the hilts on their swords as they stood at the ready by the other set of cannons.

The ship sliced through the eerie fog and revealed the inside of the hidden waters of the rock structure. Ships lay shattered all around them and the area was filled with jagged, sharp deadly rocks jutting out of the water. Prisha walked forward towards the very front of the ship. Her brown eyes scanned the area to the left. A huge ship stood there, completely wrecked as shattered wooden boards floated around lazily in the greenish water. Blood dripped from the defeated ship, splattering in the water where a few bones lay half submerged.

The sight sent a shiver down Prisha’s spine. She glanced over to see that Sophie was studying the other side of their surroundings. More ships stood in this massive graveyard of fallen souls. Crushed skulls lay on rocks and bobbed in the water. An odd sound began to emanate throughout the cavern. Tenn and Willy clutched their heads and began to wince in pain.

“Shit, Tenn, are you okay?” Violet placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with concern.

“Yeah, my head just started hurting,” His gaze wandered over to look at Willy who was trying to shake a headache of his own. Garbage scurried around him and hissed worriedly while Brody and Mitch asked the teen if there was anything they could do to help. The sound grew louder and turned into a much sweeter tune. It was a soft, mesmerizing song. It seemed as though it was sung with the intent to lull the listener into long, comforting peace.

Sophie searched around to try and find the source of the singing. “Mar, do you have any idea where the song could be coming from?” The redhead pirate glanced back at her friend who had a rather flirty expression on his lips. Marlon reached up his hand and brushed back his hair as his eyes looked directly at Sophie. The look made Sophie’s face heat up and her heartbeat quicken. Was Marlon really trying to hit on her right now? The blond pirate strode forward and Sophie backed away.

“Marlon, I-” She paused when she saw her friend walk past her. That made no sense. Who was he trying to flirt with? Everyone else on this ship was taken. Sophie’s gaze followed Marlon’s movement; he was heading right for the edge of the ship. Sophie jogged forward and looked over into the sea to see a girl with long, beautiful black hair and piercing green eyes. Her lips held a seductive smile as she hummed softly. She reached out a hand that had thin, nearly transparent webbing in between the fingers.

Marlon smiled flirtatiously and reached out his hand. The girl returned the smile then opened her mouth to reveal rows upon rows of sharp teeth. Slivers of bone and droplets of blood covered the deadly teeth. Marlon didn’t react at all to this though. Instead he stretched his arm out further towards her mouth. Sophie felt her heartbeat quicken - she had heard of this type of sea monster. They were in siren territory.

“Marlon, stop!” Sophie grabbed her friend’s ass and yanked him back. “We gotta cover your ears and-”

Suddenly the ship veered right and scraped against a medium sized rock. The ship rocked from the move and Sophie stumbled forward, nearly falling into the sea. She looked over to see Clementine staring off with a dazed, happy expression on her face. Her right arm was lazily resting over the wheel while her left arm propped up her face. Soon her expression turned more flirtatious and her eyes danced with confidence.

“Come with me and I’ll show you the wonders of the Seven Seas!” Clementine moved away from the ship’s wheel, causing it to spin. Ol’ Kickass veered strongly to the right and was sailing closer and closer to a massive, jagged boulder.

“Shit!” Sophie yelled then looked towards the pitbull. ” Rosie, hold onto Marlon for me!”

Rosie barked and ran forward. Her mouth clamped onto the seat of the blond’s pants. Marlon let out a pained yelp. Sophie ran forward to help Clementine when she noticed that others were becoming affected by the siren’s song. Tenn was trying to snap Violet out of her trance while Mitch was swaying around as Willy tried to talk to him.

“Sophie! Get Prisha!” Brody instructed as she stumbled forward to reach the ship’s wheel so that the ship didn’t crash and sustain irreparable damage. The redhead’s eyes looked around for her friend when she heard the older pirate’s voice.

“Your eyes are like sapphires of the sea. How I would love to become lost in them,” Prisha smiled and began to walk on the bowsprit of the ship. Her bare feet clutched onto the thin slab of wood that was above the figurehead. “Your voice heals my aching pirate soul and your smile is mesmerizing,” Prisha looked at a brunette siren that was in the water below her. The siren smiled, showing her sharp, unnerving teeth.

Sophie ran forward, her feet whacking on the boards of the deck as she desperately tried to reach Prisha. With a long jump she landed on the bowsprit and closed most of the distance between them. Prisha twirled her braid around with her finger and was about to leap into the sea when Sophie’s arms locked around her waist like a vice. With a grunt Sophie pulled Prisha back and the two fumbled around backwards before the redhead shifted her weight and they fell back onto the ship.

“Why did you do that! Why are you keeping me from my love!” Prisha glared up at Sophie.

“That isn’t your love! That’s just a siren! Your wife is on this ship, dumbass!” Sophie snapped at Prisha. Suddenly footsteps echoed on the stairs that lead to the lower decks. Ruby and Omar emerged and looked utterly lost as to what was happening. Ruby’s eyes caught sight of Clementine who was walking towards the side of the ship.

“I’ll be showing you the ultimate treasure,” Her peg leg clacked against the deck as she strode forward.

“Good Lord! Did Clem get bit by another love leech!” Ruby soon realized that wasn’t the case though as multiple people were acting like they were in a lovesick trance.

“That was real?” Sophie struggled to hold Prisha back as the older pirate continued to recite long monologues of love.

“You thought we were making that up?!” Ruby grunted as she pulled back Clementine who had almost successfully fallen into the siren infested water. “You believed us about Cthulu! We found you in a giant seashell!”

“Listen-” Sophie was about to continue when she saw what Mitch was doing. He was struggling to get his shirt off and after a few seconds had thrown it overboard.

“Come and get it, ladies!” He began to shimmy his chest and strolled forward until Willy tackled him.

“Mitch, stop, you're with Brody!” Willy scolded as Garbage hopped down and bit Mitch to try and snap him out of his trance. Brody watched in disbelief and quickly turned her attention back to steering the ship and guiding them out of this sirens den.

“We need to gather them up and restrict their movement,” Omar remained calm as he ran off to grab some rope. Ruby and Sophie shared a look and began to get to work.

“I’ll draw a map and follow it to your heart,” Aasim leaned against the edge of Ol’ Kickass, his eyes locked with a blonde siren’s as he undid his cravat. Ruby huffed. Storming forward she quickly lifted up her husband and moved him away from the edge. Ruby didn’t consider herself the jealous type but this was irking her.

“Guys, what's happening? Louis is acting weird!” AJ called out from the crow’s nest. Sophie, Brody and Sophie all glanced up just in time to see Louis holding onto a rope and placing his pirate hat on his heart.

“My love is out there in the sea! I hear her voice calling for me!” The captain tossed his hat aside and gripped the rope. With a mighty swing he swooped down toward a redheaded siren. “Your soul sings the same song as mine! My heart belongs to you!” Louis let go of the rope and outstretched his arms only to belly flop into the sea. His landing made a loud clapping sound and soon the sirens were swimming towards him.

“I’ll save him!” Willy sprinted forward and grabbed a rope with a hook on it before diving into the water to retrieve the captain. It was a risky move as sirens were swarming round the area. Willy saw their scaly long fish tails as he swam underwater to hook Louis’ pants with the rope. The lanky teen emerged back above water and flicked back his sopping wet hair.

“Tenn, AJ! Pull the rope!”

Tenn wanted to but he was worried about Violet who had a dorky expression on her lips as she wandered around. His worry about her finding the ship’s edge was soon proven faulty though when she ran right into the ship's mast and fell over.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been glad that Violet is blind,” Sophie commented as she worked with Rosie to hold back Marlon and Prisha.

“I’ve got the rope!” AJ climbed the rigging and moved to the right part of it heading towards where the hooked rope lay. Suddenly he felt the ropes holding him snap and he swung out towards the sea at an alarming rate. He had completely forgotten about Omar’s warning about the damaged rigging. AJ knew he had to be brave though; Louis’ life depended on it.

With a long jump he desperately reached out for the hooked rope. His hands slid down its length as he clutched on to it. Rope burn covered his hands as the tween pulled on the rope. The action made Louis get yanked up by his pants, safely away from the sirens.

Tenn ran over to help Willy out of the water while Violet ran into another one of the masts and fell over onto the deck, rolling along it. Tenn soon reached his friend and used a rowboat oar to whack away some sirens before grasping Willy’s hand and pulling him up.

“Round them up!” Omar called out as he ran forward with a rope. The crew nodded and started to herd all their friends who were in the trance. AJ worked along with Willy and Tenn to get Louis back onto the deck while Ruby and Sophie teamed up to gather the others. Sophie lifted up Violet who had run into yet another part of the ship while Ruby picked up Aasim and bustled over as she carried him.

“Brody, turn the wheel ninety degrees to the right!” Omar directed.

The auburn nodded at the pirate cook’s words and harshly spun around the wheel. Ol’ Kickass jerked wildly to the left causing Clementine, Mitch, Prisha and Marlon to fall backwards.

“We’ve got all of them!” Sophie turned and looked at Omar. Omar nodded and gave one end of the rope to Rosie.

“Help me out, girl,” Omar smiled at Rosie who barked and bit down on the rope. The pitbull ran around the crewmembers that were stuck in a love trance while Omar ran the opposite direction with the other side of the rope. The rope caught the pirates and jerked them back as it dug into their guts. Soon the seven were slammed against one of the big masts. Sophie and Willy worked together to tie the rope tightly while the others turned their attention back to helping Brody guide the ship to safety.

The auburn navigated the dangerous waters where sirens continued to sing. Their voices made the mesmerized pirates continue to call out to them, declaring love and demanding to be let go. Brody focused entirely on the task at hand when suddenly she felt a strong wind. She could use this to propel the ship forward.“Guys! Pull the sails up to full height!”

Omar and Ruby nodded and pulled on the ropes, lifting them up to full mast. The wind caught the sails and Ol’ Kickass began to cut through the water at a faster speed. The ship whacked against the sirens, crushing them under its mighty strength as it neared the exit point. Brody swore under her breath as she moved the wheel. She had to carefully dodge dozens of sharp rocks and any shipwrecks that stood in the way.

Moments later Ol’ Kickass burst out from the crevice and onto the open sea. They had made it through the sirens den; the song had stopped. After a few minutes the seven pirates that had been under the sirens’ bewitchment snapped out of it. All of them were confused at the joy on their friends’ faces and why they were tied up.

“Woooo!” Sophie crowed and picked up Tenn, spinning him around.

“We did it!” Willy high fived Brody who collapsed onto the ship’s wheel. Omar calmly undid the ropes as AJ and Ruby ran forward to check on the seven pirates. All of them were too stunned to talk except Mitch who was staring down at his chest.

“Where the fuck is my shirt?”

“It's a long story,” Sophie replied and laughed as Marlon was shocked by the hole in the back of his pants that Rosie had made.

“One that we can talk about over food,” Omar added.

“Just get ready for some embarrassing tales,” Brody smiled and let Tenn take a turn at the ship’s wheel.

“What does that mean?” Prisha asked with large eyes. The crew members that hadn’t been under the trance shared a playful smile which just made the others all speak up at once. Now that there was no danger the pirates returned to their regular ways and began to tease those who had been under the sirens’ spell. This dinner was surely going to be an unforgettable one.

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