oliver-smith-smee

[oliver-smith-smee]

Smee was once again in Hook’s office, going over every plan, every map that they had in their possession, trying to figure out their next move. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair once again before grabbing another book off the pile and slamming it open. As he read through the pages he was pulled out of his thoughts when something, or rather somebody, slammed their hands on the desk. 

He rolled his eyes at the girl, it wasn’t that he hated her, but he also didn’t necessarily like her either. He stood up as he ripped the compass out of her hands, “Obviously it isn’t that precious if you have nothing better to do but stare at the cabin’s ceiling and bother me.” He shoved the compass back into his pocket before sitting back down in the chair. He kicked up his feet onto the desk, folding his arms behind his head he quirked an eyebrow at the Lilly, “But please, if you have better things to do with your time, by all means go ahead. Because believe you and me, I have better things to do with my time than babysit you all goddamn day.”

Initiation

@oliver-smith-smee

Only the day before, Lilly arrived on the island. Welcomed by Captain Hook, you could almost say she had a warm greeting. He had shown her around the ship and introduced her to a few of the crew members - not that she particularly liked any of them. She had also met Smee (his first mate, which she didn’t exactly agree with), whom she had immediately decided would have her utmost approval, simply because of his obvious education. 

Claiming a hammock in the crew’s quarters, Lilly had only slept for a couple of hours, restless apprehension pulling at her. Just before dawn, she gave up with her attempts to sleep, instead reaching for the one possession - other than her sword - she had brought with her. A book, given by her parents on her tenth birthday. She had loved it, merely because it was filled with daring adventures. The story had sparked a fire in her soul, a fire that she kept re-kindling. Now, she read it again by the dim light of a candle, only to be interrupted by the Captain himself. 

Well, I must be special to receive a personal visit from Captain Hook himself. Following his vague instructions, Lilly finally left her makeshift bed to find the First Mate. There were only so many places he could be on the ship, but it still took her a considerable amount of time to find him. So, he’s not just educated; he’s sneaky, too. Eventually, she found him in Hook’s study, pouring over pieces of parchment splayed out across the desk. 

Marching towards him, Lilly slammed her hands down in front of the man and breaking his concentration. “Goodmorning, Smee, I hope you slept well because I certainly did not.” Distractedly, she picked up a compass off the mahogany desk, spinning in a circle until she faced north. “Hook wants you to give me some kind of initiation, you know,” she spoke downwards, more to the compass than to Smee. Turning to face him again she sighed, “So I suggest we get on with it because my time is rather precious.”

[oliver-smith-smee]

Smee was wondering in the forest, he knew where he was but at the same time was lost. He continued walking, hoping to find a break in the treeline so he could find his ship. The man sighed, exhaustion overtaking his body from all the walking. Glancing around he knew he probably wasn’t anywhere near the beach, and it would take him awhile to find his way back.

As he rounded another corner and saw a symbol on the tree, “Oh bloody hell, he whispered. It was a sky eater symbol, a warning that this was their land. He went to turn back, but froze as he realized it was the end of their hunt. He knew this because he saw all of them heading back, carrying their kills. He stayed silent, hoping they wouldn’t notice him, but as luck would have it they all stopped and sensed him. He cursed again, but slowly back away, trying his best to get off their radar. When he saw they turned back he stayed tensed, knowing better than anyone else that he wasn’t in the clear until he got far away from their land. As if to prove him right, he saw a knife flying for him, and with a quick side step it landed in the tree where he was supposed to be.

Turning back he saw a fierce girl glaring at him, and all he did was smirk and send a salute in her direction before quickly turning away.

Invasion | @oliver-smith-smee

The rest of the hunters had began running back to the camp, their quarry carried on their backs or hanging from the straps on their waist.. Each hunter was made of muscle, their bodies detailed underneath their garments, long hair for every one of them, trailing behind them in braids or in loose strands. Tiger Lily was always in awe of them when they returned, as a pack. A couple of them had not turned back into their human forms yet, but they were equally mesmerizing with their silky fur and blood dripping from their teeth. Unlike the rest of the hunters, Tiger Lily had not turned back yet - and the grandmother had told her many times that this was because she herself did not feel like part of them, but how could Tiger Lily feel that way, when the only person in the tribe that she felt connected to wasn’t even a Sky Eater?

As she walked behind them, cleaning off her blade from having just skinned an animal, Tiger Lily felt a presence she didn’t recognize. And she wasn’t the only one - those who still wore their wolf skins tilted their heads towards the east, their noses trying to make sense of the stranger’s smell, and their lips curling when they realized it was a pirate. 

There were many times in which drunken pirates managed to get deep enough into the woods to stumble upon the Sky Eaters’ camp, and each time - they left behind a part of their body, a warning to the rest that their presence would not be tolerated along their borders. Pirates were filth. Or so the tribe had been trained to believe. They were the lowest of humans, unwanted by nearly everyone on the island. The fae could hardly tolerate them, and the Lost Kids had a long-term feud with those who had grown up. The mermaids lured them all into the sea, and the Sky Eaters…well, it was a well known fact that they wanted nothing to do with the pirates. Especially those on Hook’s ship. 

From what Tiger Lily could tell, this one belonged to the one-handed Captain. The hunters were already lining up to attack, but the figure was soon lost in the trees, and the air stood still for a beat before the hunters turned back towards the camp. Tiger Lily lingered behind, until she was far back enough to not be noticed. She hid the blade behind her, strapped to her dress, and approached the stranger enough for his figure to be visible through the thickness of the tress once again. He was definitely a pirate. Taking the blade from behind her, Tiger Lily swiftly threw the dagger in his direction and - surprisingly - missed. A chill crept up, sending a wave of some unknown energy through her. 

[oliver-smith-smee]

Oliver gazed at the man in front of him, trying to understand who he was and what his game was. He couldn’t understand why he didn’t scream or call the police, but honestly even if he did Oliver was quick enough to escape without leaving a trace. He simply shrugged at the question, “Question I often ponder myself, at this point I just love the feeling of their blood. Anything else, well,” he sent a wink to the man, “You’ll have to get to know me more to find out.”

Oliver let out a chuckle at the man’s name, “James Hook, huh? I think that’s fitting, but I’m just gonna stick with Hook, think it suits you a little better.” He glanced around at the dirty alleyway, trying to figure out his next move. He looked to Hook, “Where are you off to? Actually, first off what made you come out here in the first place? What’s a man like you doing at this place this time of night?” He pulled his jacket a bit tighter, glancing at his watch he realized it was about three in the morning, he needed to leave soon before the police did their usual parole around the area as the bars let out.

First Meeting

oliver-smith-smee:

Oliver found himself in the same position that he was always in, laying a woman down to allow her to find her eternal rest. Just as he soothed the woman, telling her about the favor he was doing, he heard door open and slam shut. He quieted, listening to see what the drunk would do.

In that moment the woman tried to move, scrambling to catch the attention of whoever just came out. Oliver pushed her down, trying to hold her in place while waiting for the person to leave. A quiet “sorry mate” was heard, and the man started to leave. Except he turned back, and Oliver wanted to scream in the moment, a kick on his leg and he could feel the demon growling. He couldn’t get caught, not now, not after a year of getting away with it to only be caught by a drunken idiot.

Oliver froze, his breath held in his lungs as he waited for the man’s reaction. When he finally spoke, Oliver was surprised. He only cocked his head to the side, making eye contact with a young man behind him. He simply smirked before turning back to the woman, cutting her throat and watching as she gurgled out. He stood up and stretched before turning to the man, “I usually like to watch my victims bleed out, but unfortunately this one was a little more difficult than the others.” He gave a grin before holding out his bloody hand, “The name’s Oliver Smith.”

James reached down to the man who called himself Oliver and bumped his hand with his own hook. He extended his left hand to pull Oliver to his feet. “Usually huh? So this is a regular thing for you?” James looked down at the woman. There wasn’t anything special about her, not to James at least. Rather plain looking with what used to be blonde hair, though it was now soaked in blood. His eyes had now fully adjusted to the dim alley light and he saw that Oliver was just barely old enough to be considered a man. 17 maybe 18 at the oldest. 

“Not to pry as it really isn’t any of my business but what would push a man your age to do something like this?” He leaned up against the alley wall, the smell of blood and other standard alley way stenches was quickly sobering him up. He looked Oliver up and down once more and figured he was a goon enough person to spend some time on. Sure James wasn’t the type to spend too much time in one place, but it was dark, the alley was secluded enough, he could chat for a while.

He looked down at his hook and contemplated how to introduce himself to the boy. “You can call me James. James Hook.”

[oliver-smith-smee]

Smee looked worriedly at the girl, “Here drink this, it’s water.” As she drank he observed her, her clothes obviously weren’t from Hook’s time from what he’s heard, but he wasn’t sure if she was from the modern day like he was. “The name’s Smee, and you’re on Neverland sweetheart.”

He offered her a hand and was ready to help her up, “You look like you’ve been through a lot, why don’t you come back to the ship with me? I’ll find you some new clothes, get you some food, and then you can rest up before we talk.”

He glanced in the distance, trying to spot the ship, hoping she would be able to make the walk or if he would have to carry her also. He wondered how Hook would react, but decided it didn’t matter. She needed help, and as always he was willing to lend a helping hand.

Washed Up On The Shore

@losttylernorth

The sun was beating down hard, the orange orb hanging high in the sky with no cloud in sight. Smee sighed and wiped the sweat of the back off his neck once again. The man couldn’t seem to catch a break. He carried a sack of supplies that he needed to get for the ship, things that they were running low on. Unfortunately his lazy ass waited till the last possible moment to go to the island to retrieve such things, and he of course chose the one day that it was nearing a hundred degrees.

Smee continued walking along the beach, he had rolled up his pant legs and was ankle deep in the water, trying some how to get reprieve from the heat. His shirt was off and hanging loosely around his neck, the only thing absorbing some of the sweat that was on his body. Although now it did nothing since it was soaked. He sighed, hiking the bag up as he stared forward trying to see if he was even near the ship at this point.

As he look ahead he saw a figure lying in the sand. He cocked his head, unsure as to who it was seeing as the person wasn’t there when he first passed this spot just a few hours ago. He continued forward, his guard going up incase it was one of Pan’s minions.

As he reached the body, he saw it was just a girl, maybe in her early twenties, passed out before him. Her body was soaked as if she just dragged herself out of the ocean, and she probably did just that. He looked up and out to the water, trying to see if there was any ship of sort that she may have came from, but all he saw was the neverending blue that he saw every single day.

He looked down to the girl, he nudged her once with his foot, but no response. He knelt down so that he was next to her, he had to admit that she was a pretty little thing. So he reached forward and shook her shoulder, “Hey, hey wake up. Are you okay?”

[oliver-smith-smee]

Sorry I haven't been on! I'll be working on all my responses by Monday!

[oliver-smith-smee]

Washed Up On The Shore

@losttylernorth

The sun was beating down hard, the orange orb hanging high in the sky with no cloud in sight. Smee sighed and wiped the sweat of the back off his neck once again. The man couldn’t seem to catch a break. He carried a sack of supplies that he needed to get for the ship, things that they were running low on. Unfortunately his lazy ass waited till the last possible moment to go to the island to retrieve such things, and he of course chose the one day that it was nearing a hundred degrees.

Smee continued walking along the beach, he had rolled up his pant legs and was ankle deep in the water, trying some how to get reprieve from the heat. His shirt was off and hanging loosely around his neck, the only thing absorbing some of the sweat that was on his body. Although now it did nothing since it was soaked. He sighed, hiking the bag up as he stared forward trying to see if he was even near the ship at this point.

As he look ahead he saw a figure lying in the sand. He cocked his head, unsure as to who it was seeing as the person wasn’t there when he first passed this spot just a few hours ago. He continued forward, his guard going up incase it was one of Pan’s minions.

As he reached the body, he saw it was just a girl, maybe in her early twenties, passed out before him. Her body was soaked as if she just dragged herself out of the ocean, and she probably did just that. He looked up and out to the water, trying to see if there was any ship of sort that she may have came from, but all he saw was the neverending blue that he saw every single day.

He looked down to the girl, he nudged her once with his foot, but no response. He knelt down so that he was next to her, he had to admit that she was a pretty little thing. So he reached forward and shook her shoulder, “Hey, hey wake up. Are you okay?”

[oliver-smith-smee]

The Life He Destroyed

Now I know what you may be thinking about Oliver Smith, he’s a psychopathic killer who just goes around killing women for no good reason except that he’s a narcissistic asshole. The thing is, there is so much more that goes into it.

Oliver grew up in a household with only his single mother and his two younger sisters. He grew up being the only male role in their lives. He raised his sisters, protected them from the horrors of the world, he tried his best to give them a normal life. His mother was overworked, constantly trying to provide for her family. She leaned heavily on Oliver to help with the family, treating him more as a father role than as a son she had to raise. He grew up fast, having his father leave after the birth of his youngest sister, Alyssa. He remembers the day clearly, it was December 21st, and his father watched as she was born. A bright eye child innocent to the way the world works. He only stared, no emotion in his eyes as he held this child, before turning to Oliver and saying “I need to leave. You all have ruined my life, and I refuse to allow you all to take me down anymore than you have.”

Those words were the last thing his father ever said to him. Oliver was the only one who heard these words, and they forever haunted him. His mother never heard it, she was asleep when he decided to abandon them all. Oliver refused to tell her what he said, knowing that it would cause her downfall. Instead he told her he was a piece of shit, and there he created the anger in his mother that drove her to take care of her family. It was there he became her support to push her to do it on her own.

He was only nine years old when his father left, but the second he did Oliver grew up. He realized what he needed to do, who he was going to be in the family, and took it in stride. He didn’t mind that his father left, the man was an abusive asshole who tore down his mother and Oliver constantly. His little sister, Olivia, never saw these horrors. Only heard them through the closet that Oliver would hide her in. She never saw the backside of the man’s hand. She was hidden away in the nest of blankets and toys that Oliver had created for her. When the father left, everything changed. The attitude of the house was positive, the family could laugh and be with one another without the fear of riling up the monster in the backroom. Oliver spent his whole life making sure the foundations of his family were solid. He left ensuring they could survive on their own, be the strong women in life that they all needed to be.

He spent his life hearing his mother tell him that she was the only man he needed. That he was the best gift she was ever given. She had turned to him one day when the girls were bathed and put to bed by him. She told him, “I don’t care what any woman ever tells you Oliver, you are the best love they will ever receive. Any woman who walks out of your life does not deserve happiness, she doesn’t realize the pure love she has given up.” She hugged him, with a kiss on his head they went downstairs and spent the night watching their favorite movies. Those words resonated with Oliver, he was never sour with the life he was given. No, he was happy to be the support that his family needed.

It wasn’t until his teacher used him that he finally saw the abuse his mother faced with his father. He never realized the pain, the hurt and betrayal it was cause him to feel. This was the monster that awoke in him. The anger of the abandonment of his father, the years of being the best man he could be for his family, all shaped into the murderer that he was. He never could wrap his mind around why all these women were so ungrateful of him. He often questioned why they couldn’t see what his family saw in him.

The day he murdered his teacher the first thing he did was go home. He cried to his mother that day, covered in this woman’s blood. There was no hatred in her eyes, how could she hate her only son who gave up his life for her? Her eyes shone with tears as she soothed him, reassured him that he was nothing like his father. She helped him pack his bags, gave him money to help him live life on the run. She made sure he had an alibi. Helping create a story as to why he left, and where he was when everything had happened. Saying goodbye to his sisters and his mother was the hardest thing he had to do. She gave him a pendant, a picture of them all kept inside. With it he always has it around his neck, forever remembering the life he had destroyed because of the monster in him. This is the only thing he regrets. He doesn’t care of the lives he takes, or the blood on his hands. It is the fact that he had to leave behind the only thing that mattered to him, the only women in his life that truly mattered.

[oliver-smith-smee]

Oliver found himself in the same position that he was always in, laying a woman down to allow her to find her eternal rest. Just as he soothed the woman, telling her about the favor he was doing, he heard door open and slam shut. He quieted, listening to see what the drunk would do.

In that moment the woman tried to move, scrambling to catch the attention of whoever just came out. Oliver pushed her down, trying to hold her in place while waiting for the person to leave. A quiet “sorry mate” was heard, and the man started to leave. Except he turned back, and Oliver wanted to scream in the moment, a kick on his leg and he could feel the demon growling. He couldn’t get caught, not now, not after a year of getting away with it to only be caught by a drunken idiot.

Oliver froze, his breath held in his lungs as he waited for the man’s reaction. When he finally spoke, Oliver was surprised. He only cocked his head to the side, making eye contact with a young man behind him. He simply smirked before turning back to the woman, cutting her throat and watching as she gurgled out. He stood up and stretched before turning to the man, “I usually like to watch my victims bleed out, but unfortunately this one was a little more difficult than the others.” He gave a grin before holding out his bloody hand, “The name’s Oliver Smith.”

First Meeting

@oliver-smith-smee

Hook stumbled out the back door of the little Irish pub he had been drinking at and found himself in an alley way alone. He hadn’t meant to be alone. He looked around and saw that he had apparently left tonight’s shag sitting at the bar by herself which was honestly just bad form on his part. He turned back to go inside and get her, but the door was locked. “Bollocks.” He whispered it.

It was very very dark in the alley way behind him, and he could hear movement. He spun on his heel and stuck his hook forward as if it were a sword. It was the best he could do in the moment, and his alcohol addled mind thought it would be the perfect defense. He had sharpened it after all. He heard the muffled sound of a struggle and inched his way towards the sounds. As he eased closer he saw two forms, one larger than the other, on the ground. Thinking he stumbled onto some weird back alley sex den he muttered, “sorry mate,” and turned to walk back the way he came. It wasn’t until his eyes adjusted a bit more that he noticed one of the parties was covered in blood. 

He took a few more steps closer to the pair, misjudged the closeness and accidentally kicked the man in the thigh. He heard a soft gurgling moan come from the woman on the ground and he tilted his head to look at her. The man had done a good job, sure but he hadn’t finished her off in one fell swoop. She was bleeding out and if she tried hard enough she would probably have been able to scream out, which was the last thing James needed. He was avoiding the police as best he could as he had a fair few warrants out for his arrest at this point in time. “You have to cut her throat mate, don’t want her to scream and get you caught do ya?” he whispered to the man before him.

[oliver-smith-smee]

Accepting the Monster

The days after the murder of his love, Oliver Smith found himself wandering around some city’s streets. The city itself was hours away from his home, and he knew the police wouldn’t bother looking outside his small town. Although her death may be tragic, he knew the town wanted to keep everything kept within it. The small town may have been miserable growing up in, but now he found it a blessing seeing as he easily escaped.

Oliver had spent days trying to figure out what had overcome him. He spent it in a daze, quietly sneaking into stores to steal food and alcohol. Drinking to help forget the blood on his hands. Not because he was disgusted or ashamed, no it was the fact that he loved it. Oliver’s heart raced in anticipation and excitement at just the thought of it. So here this young boy was, stumbling in the low parts of a city drinking himself to sleep every night while he wrestled with the turmoil in his mind.

It wasn’t until a month in that he found himself overtaken by his bloodlust once again. He was in a beaten down bar where all the whores and lowlifes went to after the sun had set. He learned long ago that as long as you had money, they never really cared for your age.

Oliver was sitting in the corner, once again drinking by himself when he saw a woman approach him. She would have been gorgeous if life hadn’t taken her down. Her blue eyes were cold and calculating, and her hair was disheveled. She never spoke a word, but simply splayed herself across his lap. This is the second woman Oliver would have loved.

The two soon found themselves stumbling out into the alleyway, caught up in the lust and passion. They found their way to a hidden corner, and it was there that they stripped and fucked. When they finished the unnamed girl grabbed her clothes and started to dress. Oliver watched as she gave him a smirk and said, “Thank you for that.” Before turning to head back inside.

It was then that the anger that consumed him from his first love filled him once again. He only saw red as he watched this unknown woman walking away from him. Before he could even think he had reached out and grabbed the woman’s arm, jerking her back. A small scream escaped her mouth, but he was quick to cover it with his hand. Wrapping an arm around her waist he pulled her so that he was pressed against her back. His warm breath on her neck as he growled, “I will never let another woman walk away from me again.” She struggled against him, her screams muffled as he pressed himself harder into her. In a split second he had spun them around, her back was pressed against the wall and his hand still on her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear, and he took a deep breath in as if he was consuming it.

Oliver pulled the knife out from his back pocket, he held it against her stomach. Looking into her eyes he spoke, “I want to watch the life drain out of your eyes.” As he said this he shoved the knife through the poor woman’s body, his hand now covering quickly with blood. He removed the knife and smiled as he held his hand just below her wound, the warm blood soothing the monster inside him. The screams fell silent and the woman slumped against the wall. Oliver stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her once again. He lowered her to the ground, and as she stared up at him, her eyes begging why, he gave her a kiss. He whispered, “No man will ever love you as much as I have.” She took her last breath, and he stood up and turned away. A grin covered his face as he licked the blood off his lips, loving the sweet, copper taste it left in his mouth.

It was then that Oliver Smith found his passion, he finally accepted the monster that lived inside him. No, the monster that was him. He moved on, going from city to city, sometimes small towns, anywhere that he could found a young woman easily swayed by his charm. His charismatic attitude, his perfect smile, it was easy to lull any woman into bed with him. These murders became his passion, and he continued down this bloody path until he met the one man that he would call his brother, who would be the only person he truly cared for in a world that robbed him of everything.

[oliver-smith-smee]

Love of the First Kill

The cold air was harsh against Smee’s throat. His hands were numb, and each time he took a breath he could see it appear in front of him. Looking around he was once against on the dirty streets of the city, rats were running by and near by sirens could be heard. He sighed, running a hand through his hair a sense of familiarity hit him. He remembers this moment, this memory. He wasn’t sure which girl it was. Was it his second kill? Or maybe it was the fifth one. He lost count a long time ago.

He started to walk further into the alley way, knowing full well what to expect when he reached the end. He turned to his right, the buildings looming over him, seeming to grow the further he went a long. The light from the streets now distance, and only one shone up a head.

It was there he saw her. The woman he first loved, the woman who left him to live a normal life with her husband. Of course she never succeeded, he made sure of that. He had decided that if any women didn’t want him, then no one else deserved to be with them. His mind was warped into the idea that he should be the last love any woman would ever have, and he did them a favor of taking their life before they could find anyone else.

He slowed his steps, he was about ten feet from her, but she was clear as day. Her long blonde hair was splayed across the pavement, and her lips were slightly parted, red from the blood that had spilled out of her mouth. Her blue eyes were vacant as they stared ahead, all life and spark gone, a spark that Smee had taken away for his to keep.

He walked forward and knelt down next to her body, he brushed her hair away from her face. His mind going back to the days after school when he would run them through the long locks of hair she had. His hand ran down her face before following the curvature of her body. He soon felt the blood cover his hand, it was still warm as if he stabbed her only a few minutes ago. He looked down and watched as the puddle continued to grow, and a sadistic grin was painted onto his face. Oh how he missed the days of taking women’s lives. He missed the days of feeling their bodies collapse into his arms as he silently coaxed them into eternal sleep. Smee sighed, his eyes returning to the empty blue orbs. “I’m not sure,” he started to say. His hand cupped her cheek before continuing, “If I would have loved you till the end of our days, or if I would have taken your life even if you did love me.”

He stood, as the shadows grew closer, climbing up his legs, he smiled, “I do owe you a thank you, for helping me discover the thrill of murdering. For helping me learn what women really needed. For turning me into the monster I truly am.”

The shadows then swallowed him whole, and as he woke up in his cabin he took a breathe. He could feel the monster once again growling in him, and he stood before going to find Hook. He needed to taste blood once again, yearned for it, and Hook always helped him find his next victim.

[oliver-smith-smee]

Smee was in his room looking at the plans Hook had drawn up for when they hit land. His feet were propped up on his desk, and a sigh escaped as he closed his eyes. He hummed to himself as he listened to the usual noises of the crew working. He ran the plan over in his mind, trying to look for any flaws or potential slip ups. As he went over it again and again he noticed the ship had gone silent. He wasn’t sure the reason for it, but he practically growled at the idea that the crew was stopping. They knew better than that.

Smee kicked his feet off of his desk, the chair knocked down onto the ground as he stormed to his door. As he ripped it open he paused, he could hear someone stomping around in Hook’s quarters, soon followed by a slam. All anger left and instead annoyance filled him. There was only one person who would even think  about invading the Captain’s quarters, and it was that stupid imp who called himself a king. The pirate calmly shut his door before making his way down the hall, just as he reached the doorway he met the sinister eyes of the devil himself.

As Pan spoke he could feel the annoyance radiating off of him. The pirate leaned against the doorway, simply crossing his arms as he observed the boy. “You may not have been looking for me, but you should keep in mind the Captain has better things to do with his day than wait for a visit from an over powered, spoiled brat.” He simply clucked his tongue at Pan’s question as a smirk found it’s way to his face, “I don’t play with knives, Pan, I carve with them.”

Maybe insulting the fae wasn’t Smee’s brightest ideas, but then again he could never stop his tongue from slipping. He simply chuckled and shook his head, “The Captain isn’t here, so anything you want to say you have to say it to me.”

A Surprise at the Bay

At last it was time to give Hook a little visit from the infamous boy that ruled Neverland. There was a belief that the only way to solve problems was to face them head on, and Pan intended to do just that. Hidden between the sails of the Jolly Roger, the Fae glanced down at the bickering pirates, his gaze scattering amongst the headcount as he played out their deaths in his mind. All of the crew members would be buffoons if they thought they stood any chance against the demon boy, and perhaps they would avoid him altogether. Hopefully allowing a simple passage to the Captain’s lair. No one had noticed his presence as he hadn’t needed to climb the mast, but instead had stolen enough pixie dust to get to the top and float on his merry way. Sliding down the wooden shaft of the sail, Pan’s boots landed with a thump on the planks of the ship, his poisonous eyes trailing the crew that stopped dead in their tracks. “Pan’s back?” one whispered to the other, his expression drizzling to a purity of fear that could not be described by the likes of the English language. He was petrified at the very least, and Pan was loving it. The demon hadn’t ever actually left, but showing up on the boats was one of those things that happened when the pirates least expected it. Not a single being moved as he whisked through them, making his way to the door that led below deck. “What a shame that none of you are even going to bother to defend your Captain,” the boy nudged, placing his elbow into a nearby girl that grunted with the impact. Still, none secured the Jolly Roger as they stared in absolute uncertainty. It was as if the boat had turned to a bundle of statues, unsure of what the Demon King had in store.

Pan shrugged it off, walking past the surplus of pirates as he swung open the door that led towards Hook’s quarters. A thundering boom of his feet slammed the table in which Hook was accustomed to eating at, and to Pan – he knew the ship better than the idiot that ran the damn thing. “James,” a devious curl slicked across the boy’s impish face as he kicked an array of dishes across the side of the area, scattering them about the ship’s curvature. Heavy footfalls exploded through the table until he reached the Captain’s chair. Pan sat his ass down in it as if he owned the place. “No, I wasn’t looking for you,” irritability flooded features as he turned his expression up toward the oncoming blonde, fingers drumming upon the planks of the table. “Do you ever,” Pan flicked a blade from out of thin air, trailing it across his tongue until a minuscule line of blood came into view for the Captain’s bitch to see, “play with knives, Smee?”

@oliver-smith-smee​

[oliver-smith-smee]

source

[oliver-smith-smee]

Disney’s Descendants aesthetic: 

Harry Hook; Son of Captain James Hook; VK

‘Don’t scare you? But that’s my speciality.’ 

[oliver-smith-smee]

               ERA AESTHETICS                ↳ The Golden Age of Piracy, Caribbean Sea. 1650 - 1730

[oliver-smith-smee]

Smee

Character: Smee

Full name: Oliver Smith

FC: Garrett Hedlund

Age: 25

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him

Birthday: December 21st

Species: Human

Affiliation: Pirate

Position: First mate, often referred to as a Lieutenant, Hook’s right hand man

Skills: Adaptable, quick thinker, expert with a sword and hand-to-hand combat, excellent with words, educated, thievery

History:

Oliver Smith; a normal, young boy who grew up in the suburbs. Of course, whenever he says these words no one knows what he’s talking about. He grew up in the modern world, going to school and experiencing life as any teenager today would. His family was small; his father leaving long before he was born, two younger sisters counting on him for guidance, and his mother; an overworked, single mom who barely saw her kids just to put food on the table. Oliver was only seventeen when it all started.

First day of school he dropped his sisters off, and then made his way to the high school. He met with his friends, and off to class he went. The day was normal, until he found himself in his sixth period class. There stood a woman so beautiful that every boy was drooling. She disregarded them all, until she looked at him. Maybe it was the gray eyes, or the careless, rugged look he had about him, but from that day they found themselves in a romance no one could have predicted. He isn’t sure when it started, it may have been when she asked him to stay after class, or when he requested a meeting for his latest assignment. The two found each other caught up in a frenzy of lust and passion, often times sneaking around the school to get a taste of one another, and even going to her house to make love. It wasn’t until halfway through the school year that it came to a screeching halt. She turned cold, ignoring him any time he tried to meet, and even left before he even got out of his last class. Oliver was hurt and felt betrayed, he believed the feelings they had was love, and he didn’t see why she would leave that.

He became obsessed, at first stalking her throughout the day at school. Then following her home. Each week he grew progressively worse until he found himself standing outside her window late at night. It was then he saw the reason why everything had ended. There she was sitting on the couch with a man. The two of them curled up and enjoying the TV. He never really paid any mind to the ring on her finger, but now he realized what it meant.

He waited until the husband went to bed, just as she was making her way around the house he knocked on the window. She almost screamed when she saw him. She stormed out, obviously angry at him for being there. He begged and pleaded with her to come with him, that he was eighteen now and they could run away and be together. She basically laughed in his face, anything that had been between them obviously meant nothing to her.

His love and passion soon turned into a blinding rage. Oliver’s brain shut off as his body took over. He remembers walking up to her, laying his hand on her cheek and wrapping an arm around her back. His face was devoid of all emotions. He traced the outline of her face before tightening his arm. As he did this she tried to push him away, but he didn’t move. She went to scream but he was quick to cover her mouth. He looked into her blue eyes one last time before using the knife in his hand to stab her in the back. He held onto her as she screamed in his hand, she fell forward and he only tightened his arms. The blood that was running down his arm wasn’t disgusting to him, no it was warm and soothing. He loved watching as the life slowly drained out of her eyes, and just as her screams stopped he laid one last kiss on her lips. He laid her down and left her lying in the pool of her own blood. He stared for a moment, mentally logging the scene into his head before turning and disappearing into the night.