#Entering a new fandom for me is the most terrifying

[choconoru]

LU doodles I forgot to include in the last post 😭 (And It's just Wind––)

LU belongs to @//linkeduniverse

[thisonehere]

Come Back To Me

A Match Made in Hell Part 4

Last part

A/n: And here it is! Ngl, it's been a long week, I'm just so happy to finally have this out. When it comes to revealing who Y/n' "special friend" is, I've seen a lot of good ideas. I decided to go with the most unexpected one that would burn Bi-Han to see Y/n with.

Tags: @maulsgf @sweetpanda18 @thickemadame @posterbunny @strawbisane @fandom-garbage @sleepyfxce @livingdeadgirly

C/w: Mentions of groping, and stalking, threats of physical violence to reader

It was dark outside now, Bi-Han tried to ignore how late it had gotten. He rubbed drue sleep from his eyes and pulled himself closer to his desk. He tried to keep himself busy by looking over papers before him, all neatly stacked and organized. But Bi-Han would still mess with them, reorganizing them, putting them into different groups. Sometimes he would even reread them. All this to keep his kind off you.

He had frequent meetings with the sorcerers, Quan Chi and Shang Tsung, strategizing their next steps. Bi-Han would still pretend to be loyal to Liu Kang while they continued to work on the shadows. He be a spy for them, telling them Liu Kang's plans so they could prepare for any attack. Then, when the time was right, they all will take him by surprise and destroy him and all his allies. Kuai Liang and Tomas were livid at this news, even to the that they would perhaps do something to stop him. Now that he thought about it actually, he hasn't seen them a lot lately, perhaps they truly are planning to something. If it is true, he isn't worried, he has faith that with the sorcerers, Bi-Han will be able to handle them. It's you that worries him the most.

Bi-Han began to reorganize a stack of papers, he decided he wanted them to each go to another stack. They didn't need to, but he needed something to do. He wasn't usually this obsessive with these trivial things, but it was nice to be distracted. When he finished, Bi-Han sighed and leaned back into his seat. By now it was so late that many of his Lin Kuei had no doubt followed the curfew and turned into their chambers to sleep. Yet he was still up, for so many nights since he went to Lin Kuei to retrieve you, he's been up. He had sent his messenger away to retrieve you weeks ago, the last time he heard from him was that he located you and was on his way back. Hopefully with you.

Since then, Bi-Han has been keeping himself busy to try to keep his mind off of it all. But every moment he got just a second rest his mind, thoughts of you appeared. He hadn't realized just how much he missed until after Tomas's outburst. He didn't want to admit it, but the fool was right, you did love him. And perhaps he did take you for granted, just a little. But none to worry about, You'll

Bi-Han is quickly brought back to reality when he hears a knock on the door. A very timid knock, like the person was scared. But it was enough to cause Bi-Han to quickly sit up right in his, correct his posture, and fold his hands onto the table. "Enter." He barked, putting on his best, stern face. But you look closely enough, you'd see a sie k of hope and anxiety in them. He watched the door as it slowly opened and the Lin Kuei entered. He approached the Grandmaster and made a quick bow. "Well?" If Bi-Han didn't know any better, he could've sworn that he heard the man gulp. "I had successfully managed to find Lady Y/n and make her aware that you ordered her return." Bi-Han stared at him, giving him an eye to the urge to continue. He could see that the Lin Kuei was obviously nervous, this made something in Bi-Han nervous himself. "Lady Y/n heard you request...and she refused to come back."

The Lin Kuei tries to retain his composure as he waits for the Grandmaster to say something. The way the Grandmaster looked at him, it scared him to death. He had a murderous look in his eyes, what makes it more terrifying is the silence. He could feel his heart beat against his ribcage so hard that he swore it was going to burst out. "Grandmaster?" He asks after the Grandmaster says nothing.

---

"Y/n, I need you to bus table 86 and table 56 need extra silverware." Madame Bo said, she had just come back from showing a party of 3 to their table. "I'm on it." You say as you sling your wrag over your shoulder and pick up the bin of used dishware. It was rush hour and that meant a very busy day at the Tea House, it was a full house and you were working hard. Madame Bo insisted that you take a lunch break, but you insisted on continuing to work. You didn't work past 3 so you wanted to get as much work done as possible before clocking out.

You weren't used to working this much back at the Artika. You helped in the kitchen many times, especially with the cooking, but for the most part you had a very cushy life. But you weren't opposed to trying to work. It was very hard though, when you first started working with Madame Bo you shattered quite a few of her plates when you fell down a flight of stairs after you tripped over your own foot.

For quite some time you were terrified of the stairs.

Madame Bo makes her way to the door as you rush past her to the kitchen to drop off the dishes to be washed and grab more silverware. You eye the clock that hangs over the entrance door, 12:30. A knot forms in your stomach as you see this. In a few hours you'll have to clock out. Madame refuses to let you work past 3 and usually you would be fine with that. But not today. Not after what you said to the Lin Kuei. The image of Bi-Han's face when he finds out you won't return. He would no doubt be furious and heartbroken, and just the thought of that made you feel...good inside, quickly making you forget about your fear and worries. But you couldn't deny how unsure you felt about leaving work alone, Kung Lao and Raiden were away and your *ahem* "special friend" wouldn't be visiting you until later tonight. So you would be spending hours alone. You just hoped you wouldn't have to deal with Lin Kuei sent by Bi-Han to collect you.

---

For the next few hours you were on your feet running throughout the Tea House, Bussing tables, refilling drinks, and adding new silverware. You even had the pleasure of kicking out a party.

"I think you should leave." You say sternly, hands on your hips as you impatiently tap you foot against the ground. looks at you up and down, unimpressed, the rest of the men at the table snickered, as if you said something funny. He and the rest of the table were getting a little too rowdy after a few too many drinks. They were yelling, used the most foul language you've had the misfortune of hearing, harassed many of the staff and verbally abused them, and even got a little too handsy with the waitresses.

Many of the other guests complained about them, and you finally decided to deal with it. "Listen, sweetheart, I don't think you know who you're talking to. We're not going anywhere. So I suggest you, I don't know, be a good girl and get us some more drinks." His friends nodded in agreement with toothy grins. You narrow you eyes as you study all the men at the table. On their arms bore tattoos that signified their allegiance. Except one, he kept himself covered from head to toe, you thought was weird, but you chose not pay him much kind. They're all a part of a gang that was visiting here for a meeting, a group called the Black Dragon. They were very infamous, especially their leader Kano. They were all evil and rugged to look upon.

You remember you husband reporting that he acquired their all that time ago when you were at the Artika. You thought it was beneath him to work with such low-wit, bottom feeding, ruffians, but you never said anything out of love and support. Some of the other staff members were too scared to kick them out, but as someone who lived with a clan of assassins where you were the wife of one of the most deadliest warriors alive, you weren't very impressed by them. "I'm not asking you to go anywhere, I'm asking you to go somewhere: Outside." Your eyes stay firmly on him, he glares at you, his cocky expression grows a slight bit of annoyance. He gets out of his seat and stand over you all menacing. "Listen," he squints his eyes to look at your name tag. " 'Y/n', cute name by the way, me and my boys have big day today. We're going to be meeting with a very special client. So it would suggest you be a good girl and mind your own business... I'd hate to have to swing by your place to teach you some manners."

Feeling that he did enough intimidating, the black dragon calmly sits back down, pleased on his face. With a sigh, you smooth out the wrinkles of your clothes and fix your composure. You smile at him, and he smiles back, you then grab him by the ear and rip him out of the seat. "Alright. I've listened to you, and now you'll listen to me. Be a good boy and leave, or I'll have to get Madame Bo to teach you some manners, believe me, she is an excellent teacher." And with that, you lead him, by ear, to the door. He leaves a trail of multiple "ow's" and "let go's" until you finally make it to the door and throw him to the ground outside. He angrily tries to get to his feet. "B*tch." He spits at you. The other men at the table found their way to the exit where you were. They all shot your dirty looks as they passed you. Except the masked man he walks past you and keeps walks, the others are quick to follow after him. You thought it was strange but you chose not to care.

"Y/n, we need help in the kitchen. Be sure to wash any germs that boy gave you and help us, won't you?"

You chuckle softly as you follow her to the kitchen. "Of course, I'll be sure to wash off all the fleas he gave me."

---

2:45

---

Things were finally dying down, many of the customers finished their meals and were going back to work if they had not already left. The restaurant had found a new peace with just a little under 70 customers left, something manageable for the rest of the staff. You were in the kitchen finishing a loaf of dishes and placing them to dry. You grab a cloth to dry your hands "And that's another day." You sigh in relief, the long day finally catches up to you and you need to sit down. Stumble over and collapse into a chair in the corner of the room. Washing the dishes had to be the most gruelling part of the day. It felt like a neverending task, bussers repeatedly coming in with new dishes to the point that you thought you'd be here all night.

You lay your head against the wall as you catch your breath and try to find the strength to clock out. You slowly feel yourself doze off. You begin to daydream about your night. Your friend will come over, you both wanted to watch another movie. He said it's a classic, something called Ninja Mime, you really don't care to see. You're just excited to spend time with him, he has grown to be one of your closest friends here. You met him through Raiden and Kung Lao and you didn't care for him at first, but he grew on you. And now you have movie nights whenever he's here. This will be the last he'll be here in a while though, like Raiden and Lao, there's some kind of crisis that means he'll have to go to aid the fire god. Some conflicts with Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. And Bi-Han's working with them, an enemy right underneath their noses.

You ponder the concept of telling everyone just what Bi-Han was doing. He'd possibly be imprisoned and Kuai would inherit the Lin Kuei, much to Sektor's chagrin. Maybe Bi-Han would rot in a cell until he decided to change his ways. And the Demon, Sareena, she would no doubt escape, maybe back to Quan Chi if he hadn't already been captured. This all painted quite a pretty picture in your head. Then you think even harder about Bi-Han in a cell, he would not go without a fight, so there he is covered in bruises. He sits alone in the dark, his face a mixture of rage and misery. Perhaps that's what he deserves...perhaps...you'll be punished too.

You were complicit in all this, you knew what he was doing was wrong yet you did nothing, you looked the other way, not just to keep him happy, but also because you couldn't bring yourself to care. The only reason you left was because of the affair and now you continue to not tell anyone what Bi-Han was doing. Perhaps, you're just as bad as him. Maybe his cheating was the Elder Gods punishing you. Or maybe you're just trying to find a way to blame yourself for what he did to you.

A stiff pain goes through your neck and throughout your whole body. You groan as you rise to your feet and stretch. It's best not to think about it, just think about your friend. Think about Ninja Mime. Just don't think about--

"So this is what my wife has been reduced to,"

...Oh...Oh God no...

---

"An underling of an Ex-Lin Kuei, rummaging for scraps in a backwater village." Bi-Han stood under the entrance. He leaned against the doorframe, a vicious scowl on his face as he looked you up and down. He watches as you slowly turn to face him, horror painted all over your face. Bi-Han gets off the doorframe, he fixes you with a harsh gaze. The tension in the air is thick as you both just stand there. He had expected some witty retart from you by now, but you just stared at him with dread and disgust. His rage subsided for a moment, he hasn't seen your face for too long. You used to look at him with such love in your eyes, but now you look at him like he's some monster who's about to attack you.

"Y/n..." he started, not quite sure what he'd say. "Bi-Han..." you stare at him in disbelief as you slowly shake your head. "Why the hell are you here?" I came to bring you home is what he wanted to say, "On a business trip. I have a meeting tonight with a very special asset." Bi-Han looks at you as he can tell you are working in your head, suddenly, your eyes widen. "Those Black Dragons... They're here for you!?" Bi-Han merely nodded. Originally, he was supposed to meet with Kano at the Artika, but when you rejected him, he had Shang Tsung teleport him here where he'd now hold the meeting. It was a terrifying moment, the way Bi-Han burst into the Sorcerers lair, a vile rage in his eyes. He had dealt with the Lin Kuei for failing him and now he intended to deal with you. Shang Tsung immediately opened the portal, mainly out of fear.

He had thought you'd recognize him at the table when you kicked him and the Black Dragon out. He had offered to go with them to Madame Bo's, going as far to pay for it all. All just for a chance to see your face. He was mildly impressed with how you handled the man, he was surprised to see you like this. You were so different then when he last saw you. You were in much more simpler clothing than he was used to. He thought about how you used to look, he never really paid attention to how much effort you put into your hair, your clothes, your makeup, everything. All that effort just for him. You were so beautiful, even now, you're more beautiful here. More than beautiful, he saw the face you made as you worked today. Pure joy and content. You seem so happy here, away from him...

"Then go." You say coldly as you turn you back to him. "You're not going to kiss me good luck?" He took a few steps closer to you. "Why don't you ask Sareena to do it?" Bi-Han chuckled a little, there's the fire he was looking for. "She already has, among other things." Though Bi-Han didn't see it, he could sense the rage slowly building inside of you. "I hate you, so much..." You turn to face him, Bi-Han can tell that he opened an old wound and rubbed salt into it. But you can't possibly mean what you said...right? "Y/n, I-" but you don't let him finish. "Get out! Get out now or I'll scream! Madame Bo will hear, she'll come and she'll-"

"I miss you." He interrupts; you fall silent.

It wasn't easy for Bi-Han to say it, but it was the only thing that would calm you down and make you listen. He waits for a moment for you to calm down, you still refuse to face him. "Y/n...I..." There's so many things he wants to say to you, but words were never his strong suit. He knew you wanted him to apologize, get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, and you knew his pride would never let him. "It's time you come home, Y/n, enough of this childish nonsense." he says with low voice as he slowly approaches you. "You don't belong here. You don't belong with them. You are Lin Kuei, we both know you deserve so much better than this." He places a gentle hand onto your shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. Silence again. Bi-Han lets out a sigh as he walks away. "I'll be here for three days." He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and sits it on the counter. "This is where I'll be staying. All I ask is that you see me, talk to me, at least once before I go."

Bi-Han looks back at you, wishing that you look at him. Look at least once before he left, even if it was hatred, he didn't care, just as long as he got to see your face. But you refuse to look at him. Bi-Han softens as he looks at you longingly, then his face hardens once again into a scowl as he storms out of the room. Nevertheless, he knows you well enough. When this gets to be too much, you'll run back to him, no matter how unwilling you pretend to be now. And he will be there waiting. You will come back to him... won't you...?

---

You failed to clock out; You didn't leave the Teahouse; You stayed in the kitchen; You cried.

When you finally found the strength, you left the kitchen to walk home. When? You didn't know, and you didn't care to check. Madame Bo saw you walk past; you looked disturbed, horrified even. She asked what was wrong, and she seemed so scared for you. You mumbled that you were fine, rushing past her before she could say anything else. You didn't stop running, you ran all the way home, not stopping for a second to catch your breath or relax. When you finally made it to the house you collapsed onto the step.

You are reduced to a heaving mass of huffing and panting with your head in your hands, trying to catch your breath. You need to think, you need to lie down actually. Too much has happened today, you didn't want to think about it at all. You reach into your pocket and pull out the piece of paper with an address on it, you study it like it's the Bible. You read it over and over again until it sears its place into your brain. You feel rage forming inside you as you look at it. You rip the paper up and crumple it up before you throw it somewhere, not quite sure where because you didn't look.

You feel like there's something hot inside that just sits there and boils, you didn't want to scream or hit something, you felt so angry and you didn't know what to do with this fury. You hug yourself as you rock back and forth. You didn't want to be angry but you didn't want to calm down either. To accurately describe how you felt, it would be: UkJFIi$-#-AsbSU$+$(#_SJDKgjKXIDJ+$+$(#!!! It didn't make sense but that's just how you felt. You close your eyes as you raise your head up high and try to breathe. Seeing Bi-Han, it was not something you wanted. But it was at the same time. You should've been stronger now, nothing he said should have any effect on you. To be honest, you wanted kiss him...and then stab him, and then kiss him again, and the twist the knife.

You weren't naive, you knew you'd have to face Bi-Han eventually. You created a multiverse of different scenarios in your head on how you'd react, all the things you'd say, how he'd react, you created an entire fantasy in your head. And it was all glorious. You never anticipated Bi-Han to ambush you like that. You had so much to say, yet the moment you saw him, you choked. None of the things you wanted to say came to mind. Silence felt the only right option as you stood with your back to him.

"What do I do?" You mutter, your voice is broken and faint. A gentle and cool breeze tickles and plays with your hair.

Suddenly, you hear the door open behind you. You head swings around to see who it is. Raiden and Kung Lao aren't here, so the only person that could possibly be here is...that special friend of yours. He stands there looking down at you, very concerned.

You gasp surprised. "Johnny!?!?" Johnny Cage, your "special friend", gives a dry laugh as walks onto the step. "Hey Kitty, I know, I know. I'm a sight for sore eyes." He gives you a dazzling smile as he sets himself down next to you. "W-What are you doing here? You said you'd be here later." The movie star brushes back his hair as he takes in the nice weather. "I lied. I wanted to surprise you and come early. Then I'd give you the greatest, most special gift of all: spending extra with me. Now, come in, I made caramel popcorn."

---

The house had an amazing scent of chocolate, butter, and freshly made popcorn mixed with the syrup scent of caramel fill the air. You sigh at the delicious scent, you feel every stiffness and worry in your body melt as you take in the scent. You feel a smile spread across your worried face as you feel at ease. "Johnny, that smells wonderful." You try not to giggle at what you see next. An entire counter of snacks, some homemade, others are foreign, but what's most important, they're all your favorite. Your smile is contagious as it spreads to Johnny. Seeing how happy you made Johnny feel proud of himself, a bright smile forms onto his face. "Well, What can I say? I'm the best at giving the people what they deserve."

When you first met Johnny, you thought he was a self-centered, disrespectful, piggish, insolent, casanova-wannabe slag...And, well, he minda is. He had tried coming on to you, unfortunately for him this wasn't a good time for him to hit on you so you let out all the anger and resentment you felt for Bi-Han onto him. Imagine his face as you screamed at him, insulting every aspect of him, going on to questioning why would he do this to you, how could he do this to you, after all that you been through, and then having to comfort you as you broke down into tears. Later, you both had a heart to heart, he apologized for how he acted with you and you apologized for traumatizing him. Long story short, you quickly became close.

When he found out you never saw a movie before, he was over the moon with excitement to introduce you to the wonderful world of cinema like he did Kitana. He'll never forget the twinkle in your eyes as you saw your first movie, one of his of course. He loved talking to for hours about interesting trivia about things that happened behind the scenes and certainly scenes were made.

Tonight, he wanted to show you his baby, on of his all time best movies that won him numerous awards, Ninja Mime. It's one of his most cherished works and that since he would be gone for a long time, that would be the first movie you'd watch tonight.

"You're going to love it! It's the Cage cut too. So that means 2 extra hours of absolute cinema." He was basically bouncing off the walls with excitement as he readied the TV. You sigh in relief at the sound of this, you'll need something to distract you. Seeing the excitement on Cage's face was enough to make you forget about all your worries and wash away. You melt into the couch as you throw popcorn into your mouth. "But do tell me, Johnny, are there any bloopers of you messing up. Probably not, they probably need to make entire movies worth of you goofs. An entire series maybe." A smile spread across Johnny's face as you snicker. "Believe me, I don't mess up, he makes beautiful mistakes."

You found it odd how almost everyone, Bi-Han, Raiden, Kung Lao, etc thought Johnny's movies were terrible. Maybe it's because you've never really seen many movies before so you don't know what a good movie looked like, but you thought his movies were amazing. The rest of the night you spent glued to the screen as you watched every scene. You 'oohed' and 'aahed' at the action scenes no matter how obviously caked with CGI they were, you laughed at the corny jokes he made, you cried when underwritten and an annoying side character died. It was all so magical, it made it feel even more that he was here to experience it with you. He beamed as he gave you behind the scenes stories, such as when he performed an entire stunt with a broken rib.

The sun begins to set outside, and you were inside glowing with amazement at what you just saw. "Johnny, that was..." You can't even find the right words to explain how you felt. You didn't mean to, but you were really feeding Johnny's ego. "I know, I know. Don't speak. No words can bring it justice. That movie won me Oscars. And then the sequels got me a few razzies but that's besides the point." You exhale and sit up right on the Couch. "Thank you, Johnny." You give him a warm smile, he merely shrugs. "I'm just doing my part to spread the magic of cinema to the unfortunate such as yourself."

"No, I mean it." You gently lay your soft and warm hand onto his. "I really needed this, a lot, thank you." He looks up at you surprised, his cocky facade fades. He takes your hand in his and he returns your warm gaze. "You're welcome, Y/n" you both smile at each other as your enjoy the warmth of each other shand.

Not notice the shadowy figure outside the window of the kitchen. He stands there in shock at the sight of the two of you, a murderous look in his ice cold eyes.

Next Time: Bi-han gets lil jealous

[genevievefangirl]

Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 4

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

Halcyon Days By: cordelianoir @cordelia-noir Rating: T Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - High School, AU - Heartstopper, Protective Charles, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: There were a lot of reasons why Charles Rowland had changed schools. His suffering grades, constant reprimands over being out of dress code and the school’s growing suspicions about his home life were only some of the reasons why Charles’ mother enrolled him in boarding school for sixth form. There was really only one problem… well two problems, maybe three. ------------ When Cricket-star Charles transfers to St. Hilarion's, he urgently needs a Latin tutor. Enter Edwin Payne, a language genius but not very popular. As the two become friends, the past rears its head in ugly ways. Can the two navigate such a new, odd-couple friendship in the face of their pasts? And what happens if that friendship starts to blossom into more? My Notes: The most adorable (yet sometimes dark) boarding school AU there is! I think I speak for a lot of us in the fandom when I say this fic warms my heart. I'm not usually a fluff person, but this fic balences the fluff with the hurt very well. I highly recommend if you haven't read it already

half of my soul, as the poets say By: thegirlofthorns @edwinspaynes Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, gravestones Summary: Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling. - Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it. My Notes: I love Charles being angry at the world for how Edwin died and how little anyone cared about him. This fic expands on that and the epithet that Charles puts on Edwin's gravestone is perfection.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered By: shadowquill17 @shadowquill17 Rating: T Tags: Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles touched Edwin’s face when they were in Hell, and it made them both feel better. So of course he keeps doing it. And of course it escalates. My Notes: Who doesn't love some intimate face touching from their best mate? I think this is a great tactic to use to pull Edwin out of his own head lol

Heaven To No One Else But Me By: coloursflyaway @coloursflyaway Rating: T Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization Summary: We would like to offer you a gift, Edwin Payne, the entity says, and holds out its hand; Charles has to force himself to stay put and not step between it and Edwin, because it feels like danger, even if it shouldn’t. The entity wouldn’t hurt Edwin, he tells himself, and he knows it’s true, it’s just that it is so powerful that even the slightest touch is terrifying and Charles is terrified about losing Edwin all the time anyway. “Why me?”, Edwin asks, head raised high and the entity’s light reflecting off his skin in a way that makes it look like porcelain, fragile and translucent and beautiful, “Why not Charles?” There is nothing we could offer Charles Rowland to take his pain away, the entity says and its voice rings out in Charles’ head. But you, we could erase yours. If you wish us to. Edwin gets the opportunity to go back in time and change his life so he will never have to go to Hell, but price of it is losing Charles; Charles can only stand next to him and wait for his decision. My Notes: Edwin sees flashes of the life he could have while Charles just stands by thinking Edwin is going to leave him. It is so painful, but also so good.

hell or high water - Series By: oddessea @oddessea Rating: T Tags: AU - Different First Meeting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: Together - After decades of searching for a way out of Hell between being eaten by a large spider made of baby dolls, Edwin Payne is ready to try anything. When he finds a torture chamber in an out-of-the way part of the Doll House, he meets a boy his age named Charles Rowland. But, more importantly, he realizes that he might not be the only one who doesn't belong in Hell, and that, maybe, escaping is easier when you aren't alone. Feel - Every good detective agency needs an office, and every good detective needs a break. After escaping from Hell, Edwin and Charles want nothing more than to have a nice, long rest. Charles worries that something irreparable has been done to him by his time in Hell, but he can't worry about that now. The Dead Boy Detectives have their first case, and if they solve it, they may just earn their very own office and, hopefully, somewhere safe for them to land. My Notes: The boys meeting in Hell greatly shifts their bond and dynamic in this fic and I LOVE IT! They are so attached to each other and I can't! Like you think they are codependent in canon? Read this!

holding on to patience (like a sunrise) By: toomoon (jjjat3am) @toomoonfic Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Getting Together Summary: In the aftermath of their appointment to the Lost and Found Department, Charles and Edwin's hug lingers. or, 5 times Charles touched Edwin, and one time Edwin touched him first. My Note: We can all agree that hug in ep 8 was great right? Well here's a fic expanding on their various touches after that!

I dont think I could stand to be (Where You Dont See Me) By: BadBoyDeanAsf @thepopsicle Rating: T Tags: Protective Charles Rowland, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Trauma, PTSD Summary: So Charles decides then and there with his eyes boring into the image of a woman who couldn’t have possibly been half as lucky as them that he would confess to Edwin. He wasn’t sure when or even how but he knows without a doubt that his partner deserved to know he was loved, that his feelings weren’t unrequited. - Six months after the events of S1 canon, the boys are trying to return to normal in London and deal with their own struggles. Edwin is fighting the grief of losing Niko and Charles struggles between worrying for Edwin and attempting to unpack his feelings. My Note: Charles worries so much about Edwin in this one that it makes my heart hurt. He just wants Edwin to be well again and takes him to see some art to try and make him feel better and it turns into some deep thoughts.

I Turned Back One Last Time (just to prove you were there) By: isnt_that_wizard @skateboardtotheheart Rating: T Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Protective Charles Rowland, Touching, Touch Starved, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Summary: Since they'd fallen out of hell, the Night Nurse slamming the door on the awful baby doll demon behind them, Charles had been itching to touch Edwin. And it wasn't like his usual touch-oriented personality just wishing to have some sort of contact. He could control that easily enough after all this time. No, this was something different. This felt like a desperation. A need to be in Edwin's personal space, to keep his hands on him. He wanted to wrap his best friend in a hug and never let go, he wanted to sit as close as possible as they heard a new case. He wanted to take Niko’s place as she grabbed Edwin's hand to drag him to watch another one of her shows. He wanted to tuck Edwin against him as they sat on the couch. He would wrap an arm around Crystal and wish it was Edwin, who was merely across the room. --- After Hell, Charles is terrified of letting Edwin out of his reach for fear that he might get taken away again. He is, of course, being very subtle in his attempts to keep Edwin close. or a series of moments when charles can't stop touching edwin to remind himself that he's real and safe, until it all finally catches up to him and he snaps My Note: Charles is freaking out in this and the tension is palatable. In particular the end of chapter 2 into the beginning of chapter 3 gives me such strong emotions. I have reread this one so many times

i’d be the choiceless hope in grief [that drove him underground] By: Laney_Rockin @laney-rockin Rating: T Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Hell, Unhappy Ending, Angst, Orpheus and Eurydice, Love Confessions, Time Loop Summary: Charles had a bad feeling that when Edwin stopped running up those spiral stairs the first time something terrible would occur. An awful gnawing feeling deep within that he chalked up to a ghostly intuition. If he was alive he'd think it was a stomachache, almost on the edge of making him sick. He hated when he was right. ---- Or: Charles becomes much more like Orpheus than he'd like. Edwin doesn't blame him for it. He doesn't think he ever could. My Notes: We love Hell time loops! But also you want sad? Here you go. This line in particular sticks with me, I love it so much. (spoilers ahead!) - "I said the ending was tragic, not that the love Orpheus and Eurydice had for each other was. In fact, it was perhaps the greatest part of the story. Eurydice holds no ill will towards her husband even as she dies a second time. Knowing and comforted in the fact that she was utterly adored by him."

If I could hold you for a minute By: HistoriaGloria @historia-gloria Rating: G Tags: Case Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: "For as vicious as it can be for ghosts, iron is not as common as you would think. It is rare, in Edwin’s experience, that the supernatural forces they are dealing with actually know that iron hurts as much as it does. Rare, but not rare enough." Charles is hurt on a case, leaving Edwin and Crystal to pick up the pieces. My Notes: The fight scene in this fic really stands out, it is super well done. And Crystal gets to help the boys!

[bitchslapblastoids]

so we’re doing the sappy year-end affectionate thing, yeah?

I spent most of my phandom years feeling like a barnacle under a ship that d&p were steering and you were all the actual passengers of. During the time I spent lurking, it felt like fandom culture had changed so drastically that re-entering in any active way would be terrifying. But then I finished writing a phanfic that I’d originally started in 2015. And then I posted it and some people liked it. And meanwhile, I had already been feeling complicated feelings about the lack of engagement with fic and writing across all fandoms. And doubly meanwhile, things just kept getting more and more unhinged in the Dan and Phil universe, and I just wanted to yell about it. So I finally caved, made this blog, and stopped being a hypocrite who whined about how fandom wasnt interactive anymore while I wasn’t actually interacting myself.

The difference between lurking and participating in the ecosystem was that I realized I was a bit wrong. Bc people on here don’t just taketaketake; there is a wonderfully supportive fabric of celebration for creative works, of kindness and warmth towards one another. It’s a small community, but so alive!!

All my weird-kid traits that I keep compartmentalized and tightly managed (read: suffocated) as I cosplay daily as a somewhat normie-adult suddenly had somewhere to thrive and be externalized again. I gained access to this universe that i get to be a tiny cocreator of that is full of delight and silliness and warmth and hilarity. It stood in such contrast to my irl world that has been in flux - moving away from somewhere I loved and people I loved, coping with new peaks of mental illness in my family, building a life in a new city that felt (feels) lonely so lonely, falling victim to my own depressive self isolation habits. but here was an outlet, and suddenly my mind was a creative place to be again. It had been a while since that had been true.

and then tit happened and while I have known for a long time that concerts are the single most euphoric experiences in my life, I’ve always gone alone and anonymous and relished in the presence of unspoken community around me, the experience that feels religious and sacred, sharing in some rapturous devotion to an artist and their music and then all parting ways afterwards. But tit was something new. I’d seen Dan and Phil before, all the times. But never as someone actively embedded in the community enough to actually speak to people. When I bought the tickets, I intended on being fully invisible at my shows. Months later when I actually went, one of the most joyful parts of the experience was all of you, talking to people around me, seeing phannies in the flesh, and yelling on here about it all. It was truly euphoric. When I say it was bouying, I mean it. I felt high for days.

The people I’ve befriended on here or whose ideas and work and vibes I just absorb through their presence on my dash have reminded me how to see beyond the restraints of cookie cutter daily life, how to be radical and loving and how to embrace weirdness and love those parts of yourself, but how to openly love them in other people too; how to signpost that you’re an open recipient for someone’s weird, that their weird is safe around you. Dan and Phil have always done that too, haven’t they?

I started to think about all the people whose brightness and brilliance has touched me in some way on here this year, and the list was immediately too long to even hold in my brain. But probably if you’re reading this, you’re one of those people. Thank you for being around and sharing who you are 🩵

Sometimes I still get a little sad about the level of engagement fic gets vs other creative endeavors on here. But being a part of this renassiance and sharing in a mini writing community within this broader phannie ecosystem has been sooooooooo rewarding. I’m deliriously happy to get to know such an incredibly creative and generous and passionate bunch of humans.

happy 2025 phumblr!! i think we better buckle in for another wild fucking ride. 🧡🧡🧡

[murkycran]

Staticmoth/Voxval Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Staticmoth/Voxval Fic Rec List! :D

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Radiostatic Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

------

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

Summary: A shortage of suppressants in Hell means that Vox is going to be enduring a heat for the first time in years. Who better than the Vees' resident pimp to help him through it? Afterall, the last thing they need is for someone to complicate the situation with "feelings" and Val was the best at keeping love and lust separate. Until now.

TLDR; Valentino plays himself.

Notes: SO FUCKING FUNNY. Cannot read this in public bc I laughed too much. Val and Vox are both idiots. Perhaps the most human depiction of them that I've seen, especially during sex. Neither of them are suave or coordinated, but by god are they trying.

system takeover by Subedarling

Summary: Velvette has never been the type to play hero. But when a mysterious new player enacts a dangerous plot to usurp the Vees' power, taking her two idiots hostage in the process, that's exactly where she finds herself. Now she has no choice but to go on an impromptu rescue mission, maintain the facade that everything is fine to the outside world, and prove why she's the backbone of the Vees—and she hasn't even had her morning coffee yet.

Vox and Val are going to owe her so hard after this.

Notes: Technically Velvette-centric but I'm including it anyway bc it does have Staticmoth; found family. She's so badass in this, I love it. The Staticmoth is very sweet. :3

even if i quit there's not a chance in hell i'd stop by Subedarling

Summary: Valentino stretches his arms over his head as he enters the kitchen, yawning. His robe is hanging loosely around him, and God, if Vox were to run his hand down his chest he could probably count all his ribs. He stops short when he sees the plates waiting for him on the counter. His eyes narrow. “The hell is this?”

“You know, most people would say thank you when their partner makes them breakfast,” Vox says dryly.

Notes: Very tender. A good kind of hurt. Deals with ED.

Parvulus by Heliosolar

Summary: Vox woke up to something... unusual. Terrifying, even. He calls Valentino, desperate for the help.

Valentino is, of course, irresponsible, and Vox is exhausted.

He just wanted to get through the day like normal, why did this have to happen?

Notes: Written before season 1. The art of Tiny Vox is not linked, but I've seen it before and it is SO CUTE. If anyone has a link, please share with me so I can link it here!

A Wager of Desire by Heliosolar

Summary: Valentino and Vox have a small dispute over something meaningless, so they make a bet.

Vox has to last an entire dinner while at Valentino's mercy.

What could go wrong?

Notes: Written before season 1 release. One of the first Staticmoth fics I read. :)

Venenum by Heliosolar

Summary: During an uneventful meeting, Vox makes the mistake of stealing a drink from Valentino.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Getting Railed (By Child Support) by Charnel_Goat, spappest

Summary: The female of several species can store sperm for many years prior to using it to fertilize her eggs. As it turns out, spider trains do this too.

Decades after their romantic fallout, Overlord Choo Choo Charles is knocking on Val's door to demand he take responsibility for the results. By way of kidnapping his boyfriend to lure him to his den.

Notes: One of the crackiest fics I've ever read. Vox is an idiot with a horrible sense of self-preservation and Val fucks a spider train without birth control. Just...read it, okay? I literally cannot think about this fic without giggling like an idiot every time.

Beautiful Monster by IceBlueButterfly

Summary: “You’re late,” is the first thing that comes out of Vox’s mouth.

That sharp smile somehow grows wider.

“I believe the term is ‘fashionably late’ baby,” a smooth voice with a light Spanish accent replies.

Which… okay if Vox is being honest, is kind of hot.

Screen heating up a little more, Vox shoots a bored look.

“Or just late,” he snips back. “Oh well,” he claps his hands. “Doesn’t matter, you ready to get down to business?”

“Oh baby,” a bright gleam in even brighter eyes, “I’m always ready to get down.”

Vox is already regretting this decision.

OR Moments in time throughout Vox and Val's relationship. Vox may have no idea what the moth demon will bring to his life, but neither does Val.

Notes: A very nice exploration of how Vox and Valentino's relationship evolves.

Only a Shadow by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox shows up on the hotel’s doorstep with no memory of how he got there or who he is. They agree to house and heal him, and slowly but surely he finds joy in becoming better. Then Valentino shows up and is forced to choose between self-altering addiction and the closest he’s ever come to love.

Meanwhile, Velvette has a new potion brewing, one that will grant her more power than the Vees ever had. Only Vox and Val can stop her, but will goodness really overcome evil? Or will they be only a shadow of their former selves?

Notes: The Voxval is currently toxic and only just now being touched on in Chapter 9 of the fic; I say 'currently' because the author explains in the AN of the first chapter that both Vox and Val will go through some "self-discovery and healing". Seriously, just read it. It's very good!!

You Found Me by passthevoxcord

Summary: Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.

Notes: Includes some interesting headcanons for Vox and Val.

Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.

Notes: Surprisingly sweet. ^_^

Muted by passthevoxcord

Summary: Val helps a nonverbal Vox deal with sensory overload.

Notes: Sweet and tender. :)

Freaky Friday by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox and Val wake up stuck in the other’s body, but it’s no big deal because they both know how easy the other has it. Right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Sweet take on the different challenges Vox and Val face in their daily lives.

Something Akin To Love Series by Awesome_Possum

Summary: Vox's taste in partners is delightfully self-destructive and that's an itch Valentino is more than happy to scratch.

It's not safe or sane, and whether or not it's technically consensual is heavily up to interpretation, but what they have is probably something akin to love.

A collection of StaticMoth fics set in generally the same continuity.

Valentino is awful and Vox is unfortunately really really into that because a control freak in the streets is a masochist in the sheets.

Notes: Has 2 parts, both very much worth reading. Very funny, lol. Vox is in a hell of his own making but enjoying it at the same time.

Update Prescription by innerfray

Summary: Vox tricks Valentino into getting his eyes checked. They're forced to confront the nature of their partnership.

Notes: One of my favorite Staticmoth oneshots. Felt like an interesting take on Val's blindness. Angst so good...

Like Moth to a Flame (Or to a Bright Blue Screen) by datweirdo

Summary: Valentino is a moth after all

Notes: Cute and funny!!! "You fucking murdered him" lmao

30 Decibels by Shortsighted_Owl

Summary: Somewhere, under the low humming of the monitors, the quiet gurgling of replacement coolant being piped into Vox body, a new noise - dry, yet somehow viscerally wet, and so very soft - made itself known, but only just.

And Valentino almost missed it. - After a fight with Alastor, Valentino watches vigil over Vox’s broken form.

(What if Vox still has organic vocal cords, and after a fight with Alastor, the synthesiser he uses to amplify his voice is destroyed. What if Valentino hears Vox’s real voice for the first time?)

Notes: Heed the tags, there is in fact body horror lol. Sweet but mildly horrific. <3

Priest, mailman, cruise captain or chef? by Destabilize

Summary: Inspired by Vox's outfits in Stayed Gone - Val and Vox try out some kinky stuff with a priest outfit, to mixed success.

Ah ha!” Val squealed with delight, wine glass drained and thrown on a sofa, “This!” Val was standing proudly by the wardrobe holding up a long red robe with a hat and some kind of sash. Vox scowled, “Is that a fucking priest outfit?”

“Si! Isn’t it fun- it’s in your colors too!”

“You wanna be a priest?”

“No baby! You be a priest and I can,” Val sidled up and leaned down, puffing some smoke in Vox’s face, snaking an arm around his waist, “lead you astray...”

Notes: Surprisingly cute and funny! Vox fails epically at roleplay and it is hilarious.

riding out the drop by spoondrifts

Summary: Like he’d said before, killing Alastor was Vox’s kink, not his. He had been prepared to sit back and enjoy the temporary chaos until Vox got over himself.

What he hadn’t accounted for was the possibility that Vox was exactly as obsessive, bitter, and desperate for Alastor’s acknowledgement now as he had been seven years ago. Distance hadn’t made the heart grow fonder: distance had made a highly detailed revenge scrapbook complete with a conspiracy corkboard done up in red string.

Or: Valentino gets fed up with Vox's fixation on the radio demon. They fuck about it.

Notes: Features (sex favorable) asexual!Vox! :D (I lowkey headcanon him as ace ever since the "better than sex" comment)

Featherstone by spoondrifts

Summary: “To me,” Vox told the baby, “it seems like bad parenting to leave your helpless kid for a whole month with two unstable psychopaths and their parole officer. But hey. Who am I to judge.”

No intelligent reply was forthcoming.

Or: not-so accidental baby acquisition, starring the three least responsible idiots this side of the Pentagram.

Notes: Big Vees as family vibes. Wish so desperately this was canon.

vark attack by tarltonnnnn

Summary: Valentino has to petsit Vark for a day. Chaos ensues.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Vark is a big dumb (and very cute) baby.

Unplugged by pinkpunchy

Summary: Vox looks like he’s going to vomit. Valentino frowns.

“For the one who suggested this, you’re being a real pussy.”

“Fuck you! Just give me a sec.” Vox spits out, muttering darkly as he adjusts his shoulders on the pillows, trying to arrange his body for the moment he loses all function. Valentino, despite his impulsive nature, waits patiently. His manicured nails drag along the spot where cable and port connect, thumb smoothing up and down the flat surface surrounding it. Vox’s breath is coming faster now, not slower, something Valentino is tuned into as naturally as his own breathing.

“Hey.”

A large hand grasps a corner of Vox’s screen, tilting it up and putting an immediate stop to his fidgeting. Valentino smiles, red eyes narrowed to slits.

“Do you trust me?”

Notes: Sex as a...trust exercise? Lol I'm joking, but seriously. Sweet and hot at the same time.

Electric Desires: Lust, Power, and Unspoken Longings in Hell by Dani69696969

Summary: Vox is starting to get fed up with Angel Dust being the only thing Val talks about when Vox is right there, ripe for the taking. Inspired by Vox looking happy that Angel might have quit in Episode 2.

Notes: Very sweet. Plot with porn. :)

The Art of Pimping by MarenRose

Summary: Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?

Notes: Vox's jealousy and possessiveness really brings out his stalker side in this lmao. Vox is a little pathetic and that makes his jealousy all the more funny to me. :D

Welcome to VoxTek Enterprises! by MarenRose

Summary: Subsequently, Valentino, of all people, has become the office’s saving grace.

(A series of VoxVal ficlets through the eyes of Vox’s assistant)

Notes: Pretty funny! Vox's assistants are really going through it. One of the tags is "Imagine being happy to see Valentino" lol.

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

ok luca fandom hear me about

luberto tangled au

ercole is his usual asshole self, bullying kids and showing off his trophies and vespa, but he knows he’s getting old. He sees new wrinkles in places that were smooth before, and usually most people wouldn’t think too much of it when they’re getting older. But he’s terrified.

Meanwhile, below the surface, Queen Daniela and King Lorenzo had their first child. During the pregnancy Daniela had gotten sick but was cured by a rare seaweed that grows once every blue moon, and Lorenzo was able to find it and cure her.

As a result, Luca, their baby, had extremely vibrant scales that glowed even in the dark, and were very colorful even for a Royal’s scales. His parents just assumed that for some reason his inherited the glowing aspect from his uncle who lives in the deep and thought nothing of it, celebrating their boy’s birthday by releasing bioluminescent sea lanterns throughout the kingdom.

Ercole, while driving back to his house on his vespa, sees this phenomenon and becomes curious, slowing down to look at the lights closely.

When he get home, he waits until midnight to head back out again, grabbing his harpoon, swimsuit and his snorkel in case it was ‘sea monster’ business so he could win the reward on the wanted flyers.

He dove into the ocean, swimming down to the ocean floor, and was shocked to find not only a town, but a palace down in the water.

Attracted to the lavishness of it, Ercole swam down and entered through one of the windows, which was coincidentally the nursery where Luca was sleeping.

He sees Luca, and at first plans to kill him with the harpoon, but decides to kidnap him instead, swimming quickly away while Luca’s parents try to chase him down and Luca cries.

Ercole takes Luca to his house and sees him transform into a human looking person, which surprises him more. He splashes water on him to revert him back and plucks out one of his tiny scales using the harpoon, which makes him cry even more, tears spilling out of his eyes. Ercole sees that when his tears reached his injured spot, the scale was healed and just like new.

He realized that he could use this as a way to solve his aging “problem”, and after searching, finds an abandoned tower on an isolated island (in this au Alberto never lived there and instead lives in Portorosso with Massimo and Giulia)

Slowly but surely, Ercole rebuilds the tower and locks Luca in there, pretending to be his older brother to use Luca’s healing powers for his own gain.

He tells Luca that he was cursed to turn into a sea monster whenever he touched water or sang his healing incantation, and that’s why Ercole kept him in isolation to protect others from having to see his “horrifying face”. He uses a lot of tactics to make Luca insecure in himself and thus never leave, and they unfortunately work for a while.

But Luca is still curious, especially of the glowing lights that illuminate from the ocean every year on his birthday. The story progresses as usual, Alberto finding his tower, etc etc, except Luca doesn’t lose his healing powers at the end.

There’s two ways Luca can heal people: through singing a healing incantation (the usual way he does it) or using his tears, which he does at the end

[darth-memes]

I really mean it. Don't trust any review that you see online about anything Star Wars. Specially the Acolyte and the latest series. You would be surprised how many are made in bad faith, and with the Acolyte they have multiplied. Talk to your friends that have actually watched it and talk about it in a reasonable way. It's ok if you don't like the series or decide is not your thing, as someone who has really liked it, I know that it's far from perfect. Don't engage with reviews online unless you really really trust the person, because many are made with bad faith and/or nostalgia-tinted glasses that honestly make people forget how the original trilogy really is. It's the reason I stopped reading or watching ANYTHING resembling a review related to Star Wars because it is surprising how easy it turns into a toxic rant that many times can be boilt down into racism and misoginy.

Honestly, even avoiding all of that, with the Acolyte I almost burnt out of the fandom of how terrible it was. I luckily didn't received any hate myself but I have a friend who posts information and fun facts between other things (doesn't do reviews, or opinions, it's mostly all factual(if you have an instagram follow him in @skynobi_starwars, he is always on top of the latest news and posts frequently but without spaming)) on instagram and he was showing me the amount of comments just spewing hate whenever he posted anything about the series and it was disgusting. He said that there had always been some, but they had basically multiplied.

But that's his situation, mine was in real life. I have a coworker who also loves Star Wars and his mask fell off when on episode 3 the wItches showed up and suddenly all of his critiques were about the amount of black people and lesbians that were there. By the next episode everything was just shit and how they should fire the entire team. Basically screaming and being impossible to talk to. Which honestly made me really sad because he had always been a person with who I could talk to about anything Star Wars related. Worst of all, a younger coworker who was wondering if to watch the series entered into watching "reviews" that were outright lying about what happened in the episodes or of people that straight up didn't watch it. He showed me a few and they were all the same. I had to spend a good while proving to him how the series was review bombed even before starting and just proving almost every lie those people were telling and how most of it. It was exhausting and terrifying, I was also really worried because this coworker is very young and what he showed me bordered some alt-right beliefs that should be near NOBODY. And, holy shit, was this a slide to the far right pipeline.

The only reason I didn't burn out is because I have a trusted group of friends with whom I could comment the episodes and have fun making jokes about it. Curiously, my dad also watched it and enjoyed it. But that's basically that's all I had to reduce my feedback of Star Wars for WEEKS to not burn out with how everything was going both online and real life.

And I know that there's a lot of toxic parts of the Star Wars fandom. My recommendation is not engage with any of the big names in the fandom (you know who I am referring to, specially in Youtube). Again, it's not that you cannot be critical, there is a lot to be critical in Star Wars, there is also much that one may dislike, but there is a line. And a lot of people that called themselves reviewers crossed and are so far away in their delusion of how anything that Disney does becomes an attack against them that they will never be able to enjoy the saga again. But raging like that will just result in another Rise of Skywalker, not another Empire Strikes Back.

Instead, look for friends with who you enjoy talking about Star Wars and have fun watching, playing, reading, etc with the saga. Because at the end of the day that's what we want, to have fun with it and enjoy the journey. Sometimes it may disappoint, but if you are always looking for that like a big part of the fandom that posts online, you are never going to enjoy it again.

And isn't Star Wars better when you focus on what makes you happy about it than on what you didn't like?

(Also, again, watch out for the people who are being racist, mysoginistic, homophobic... I can't emphasize how even I, that I try to curate as much as I can my experience in the fandom, I found them fast this time)

[simplepotatofarmer]

Blog Update:

Hi, it's me, Loyal.

I just want to say first and foremost, I really do love (parts of) the fandom and I'm not going anywhere.

I will, however, not be around as much. One, I'm about to enter an all day intensive treatment plan so I'll literally just be on in the evening. Two, as much as I'm going to keep writing and creating, I have no intention of interacting publicly with fandom as much as I have.

I can't. It's actually fucking insane that it's gotten to this point. I made tribute post and because I used lyrics from Dream's song, I got harassed. The people doing this, acting like this, thinking this way are insane.

So in case it's not clear: Based on my personal lived experience and some information that's come to light, I still enjoy Dream's content. You can approach me personally, off anon, if you want to know my reasoning. If you dislike me for this, that's fine. But I'm done trying to walk this fine line just so I don't get people threatening me, my kids, and my pets. Just so people stop sending me the city I live in, so they stop digging up twelve year old tweets, so they stop calling me slurs and suicide baiting me.

That's absolutely insane. It's horrible. It's disgusting and I was honestly just sitting here, taking it, because I'm terrified of upsetting people and losing friends if I say 'yeah, I'm excited for a new manhunt and I also this song helped me and my kids process my grief'. And the worst part is, it's not an unfounded fear. People have done the most vile shit to me. People I thought were friends jumped on me instead of those harassing me.

I just want to post about Techno and c!Rivals duo and not worry about whether or not this post is going to get me hate. I don't want to worry about how random discord servers are talking about me.

Because that's fucking batshit. Not the worrying, but what these people are doing and I'm tired of letting this effect me. I have enough going on in my personal life. My partner of 15 years almost died. We almost lost our house. I should be able to come online and post about the silly minecraft guys I like and their RP and lore without censoring myself out of fear of literally being doxxed and cyber stalked. I should be able to talk about the racism that effects me without being afraid people will make it about cc drama or calling me slurs or erasing my identity as an Ojibwe person.

The people doing this are the problem. It hurts that so many people are part of this, it really does. But I can't keep letting it get to me. I've always done my best to be kind. I haven't been perfect, especially not lately, because all this hate and stress has gotten to me. I've lashed out. I shouldn't have.

And I shouldn't have had to deal with all that shit in the first place. I hope no one else does. It's terrifying and draining and I'm done.

So I intend to post the things I enjoy, I intend to reblog my friends' art, write the Emerald duo and Rivals duo fics I want to. I want to post about the Syndicate and the new manhunt when it comes out. That's what I'm going to do.

Asks are staying off for the moment because people are too happy to make burner blogs but I'll probably turn them back on at some point as I love answering lore and headcanon questions and, again, it's fucked up I can't enjoy an aspect of the site and fandom because people can't just leave me alone.

To those people: Get help. You're harassing someone because you think they deserve it and that's the most fucked up thing.

To everyone else: So so many of you have been amazing. You've been supportive, you've been kind. That kindness and support speaks volumes and I love you all. I genuinely love you. Dreblr, you've been here for me for over a year at this point and I cannot thank you enough. You are the best part of fandom as far as I'm concerned. And to Dtblr, y'all have come to support me countless times and that means the world to me, it really does. As for all my fellow Rivals duo fans, you people are worth your weight in gold for the joy you bring. A special shout-out to @vpofcookies because you've been here since the beginning, practically, and I love you. There's more but you know who you are.

Anyway, I've been carrying this for awhile and I'm tired. I'm no longer going to give any amount of thought to the people determined to drag me down and harass me constantly.

My best advice is stop focusing on the things and people you hate and instead focus on what you love. That's what I plan to do, from here on out.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

June of Doom Day 6

"They don't care about you." / Flinch / Broken Promise / Abandoned

Prompts List | Event Masterpost

Hero x Villain Masterpost | <- Previous Part | Next Part ->

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1600

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf @doctorsawyer @pinkrangerv

CW: PTSD, breaking and entering, sabotage, self-deprecation, swearing, harsh words, denial, mentioned injury, crying

A/N: Introducing a couple new characters: Antihero, a part-time hero, part-time villain who owed Villain a few favors, and Youngest, the most inexperienced member of Hero's old team. Also the first appearance of Hero's powers! They're a telekinetic.

----------

“...are you sure the distraction’s gonna work?”

“Antihero knows what they’re about, love. Trust me, we’ll have all the time you need.”

Hero shifted uneasily in their seat, watching the lights of the city streak by outside the car window. “I do, but… what about Techie? Won’t they alert Shapeshifter, Sound Gun and Leader once they find out we’re inside?”

Villain sighed, eyes fixed on the road. “I already told you, I’ll handle it.” Hero opened their mouth, but Villain raised a finger from the wheel, silencing them. “And don’t worry, I won’t kill them. If all goes well, they won’t even suspect what we came for until it’s too late.”

“Okay….”

Villain turned onto a side street, close to Hero’s former team’s headquarters, but not close enough to draw attention. They eased the car to a stop and put it into park before turning to Hero. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? If things don’t go as planned, it could end very badly for both of us.”

Hero gritted their teeth and nodded, thoughts whirling. “Not just us, but Techie and Youngest and maybe Antihero and—!”

Villain gently put a finger on Hero’s lips. “Hush. It’ll all work out.”

“But—!”

“Trust me?”

Hero slowly exhaled, trying to soothe their racing nerves. “Trust you.”

Villain smiled. “Good. Now, let’s break into your old headquarters, shall we?” They removed their hand and swiftly exited the car. Hero stared after them for a long moment, painfully aware of the spot on their lips where Villain’s finger had just been, just barely brushing against their skin. Villain shut the car door, and Hero jumped, quickly following suit, heat spreading across their face.

Their mask would hide the worst of the blush, probably. And the rest was hopefully covered by the darkness—

“…Hero?”

Hero jumped. “S-sorry,” they mumbled, starting down the sidewalk. “Just… memories.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Hero couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now. And especially not while inside their old headquarters, where every second that ticked by was one second closer to getting caught.

Caught.

And imprisoned.

And tortured….

“Hero?”

They snapped out of their thoughts as Villain gently touched their shoulder. “I…” Hero blinked and realized they’d almost walked past the side door, their ticket into the building. They smacked their forehead in frustration. “Fuck… sorry, I was just….”

Villain frowned. “If you’re not ready for this, we can turn around and go home. I’ll call off Antihero, and we can try again another day.” They glanced up at Hero’s old headquarters, and the frown deepened. “Your team did a lot of fucked up shit, and they deserve to pay for every damned scrap. 

“But…” they looked back to Hero, and their gaze softened. “We don’t have to do this now. Just say the word.”

Hero hesitated. The offer was tempting, it really was. But… they had the suspicion that if they backed out now, they would never muster up the courage to return. And that thought… that thought terrified them more than getting caught.

They shook their head.  “No. We’re doing this.”

“Alright.” Villain nodded slowly and gestured to the door. “Lead the way. This is your mission, after all.”

Hero took a deep breath, steeling their nerves against the memories that threatened to flood their brain and overwhelm them again. I’m coming, Youngest. They pressed their hand to the doorknob and reached out with their powers, grasping the inner mechanisms with insubstantial fingers.

The lock clicked. Hero allowed themself a small smile of victory. It had been a while since they’d used their telekinesis for something as complex as the lock. This was promising. They pushed open the door and slipped inside, Villain on their heels.

The side door opened into a hallway that ran along the entire length of the first floor of the headquarters, connecting to the lobby, a few unimportant storage rooms, and the service staircase. Hero led the way down the hallway, their powers seeking out and disabling the security cameras in the stairwell long before they reached the door.

“Alright,” Villain murmured as they ascended the stairs, “just point me in the direction of the surveillance room and I’ll be off.”

Hero nodded, passing the second and third-floor doors before stopping at the fourth floor. “Second door, end of that hallway.”

“Got it,” Villain moved past them, but Hero caught their arm.

“Just… don’t hurt them too badly. Please.”

Villain’s expression was unreadable beneath the mask, but they nodded. “Of course, love.”

With those words, they vanished through the door. Hero listened to their quiet footsteps for a couple heartbeats before they shook themself and continued up the stairs. Youngest would likely be in their room. Hero remembered from their training days when Leader would lock them in their room to prevent them from following on patrol before they were deemed ready.

The memory reared its head, threatening to drown them, but Hero shook their head and pressed on. Youngest. They were here for Youngest.

The lock was no more difficult to open than the side door. Youngest jumped up as the door opened, words already spilling out. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to…” Their eyes widened as their brain caught up with what they were seeing. “Hero?!”

Hero winced at the shock and disbelief in their voice. “Hey, Youngest.”

“I… you died! You’re supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean somewhere…” Youngest staggered, grabbing onto their desk for support. Frost spread across the wooden surface from their fingers, but they didn’t notice.

“Ah… is that what Leader told you?”

Youngest hesitated before nodding. “They said… they said you were taking a break, to go visit some family… but your plane crashed into the ocean…” They perked up and started moving towards the door. “We have to let everyone know you’re okay! Have you told Techie yet—?”

Hero didn’t move from the doorway, even as Youngest paused expectantly in front of them. “Listen to me, Youngest. I never went on a break, never went on a plane.”

Youngest blinked in confusion. “...huh?”

“I…” Hero’s voice shook as they sought the right words, “I was getting sloppy. Pulled one too many all-nighters. Let a couple big villains get away from me. Leader wasn’t happy about any of that. And… and when I asked to take a break, I think that’s when they snapped. There’s… there’s a reason why the lower levels are off-limits.”

Youngest stared at them, eyes growing wider by the second as Hero’s words sank in. They stepped back. “No,” they protested, “no, you’re lying!”

“I wish I was lying,” Hero murmured. “They don’t care about you. They only care about what you can do for them, and damned if you act like a person who has needs!”

Youngest shook their head, hands raised defensively. “How could you say something like that?! Leader took us in, trained us… they’re like a parent to me! They would never do that!”

“I’m sorry, Youngest, but it’s true. They’ll abandon you if they thought it was ‘for the good of the city’.” Hero’s voice turned mocking, remembering Teleporter’s words as they’d exacted the punishment ordered by Leader. “That’s why I came back. I didn’t want to leave you behind when you, too, caught their wrath.”

Youngest’s expression darkened. “Get out.”

Hero blinked. “What?”

“Get. The fuck. Out. Or I will make you leave. You’re not Hero. You’re something else, wearing their face, wearing their mask.”

Hero’s stomach churned, the earlier fear and panic returning at full force. “Youngest, I….”

“Don’t ‘Youngest’ me!” Youngest screamed, the temperature rapidly dropping. “Leave! Leave, or I might change my mind and trap you here so you can repeat your lies to Leader’s face! How does that sound?!”

Hero stepped back in shock. They wouldn’t… would they? “I’m sorry, Youngest,” they managed to say, voice shaking. “Just… I’m sorry.”

They thrust out with their hand, slamming the door shut with such hurried force that it rattled in the doorframe. The lock clicked, and Hero spun and sprinted back down the hallway, tears threatening to spill down their cheeks.

They were too late. 

Down the stairs.

They’d waited too long.

The fourth-floor hallway.

They failed.

The surveillance room. Hero barely glanced around the room, registering Techie lying unconscious on the floor before they dashed across the room to where Villain bent over the console. Villain turned in surprise, eyes widening as they noted the look on Hero’s face and the distinct lack of Youngest.

Hero mashed themself against Villain’s chest, the tears finally arriving in full force. “I… they… they thought I was… they didn’t want… threatened to…to….”

Villain slowly wrapped their arms around Hero, their fingers running through Hero’s hair. “Oh… I’m so sorry. You tried your best.”

“I… I really thought….”

“I know, I know.” Villain removed one of their hands, tapping on the keyboard. “If it’s any consolation, I got the other thing we needed.”

Hero continued to sob, Youngest’s words playing over and over in their mind.

“Hero… Hero!” Villain gently pushed them away and planted their hands on their shoulders. “We gotta get our asses out of here before the team gets back, okay? Plenty of time to sort through your emotions when we’re home free.”

Hero slowly nodded, removing their mask to wipe away the tears. “Okay…” they mumbled, voice still shaking.

Villain nodded, grabbing Hero’s hand. “Let’s go, love.”

[allaboardsubmas]

A Spark of Something New - Chapter 8 (Title Formerly: Bound by Choice)

A/N: Enjoy!

Fandom: Pokemon (Black & White, All Media Types, Legends: Arceus)

Characters: Original Character, Kudari | Emmet, Nobori | Ingo

Rating: Teen Audiences

Summary: Andy has always been afraid of pokemon and what it is that they’re able to do, which makes their life rather hard considering they’re twenty-two, live in Unova, and work in Nimbasa City; which is known as the battle capital of their region. Their closest friend and semi-adopted mother being a former gym battle leader also didn’t tend to help matters.

A panic attack on a subway car they thought was empty, however, leads to them meeting the infamous Subway Bosses and learning that pokemon, while terrifying, weren’t the monsters they had grown up believing them to be. Getting sucked up into the lives of the two Subway Bosses and their best friend Gym Leader Elesa might be even more terrifying than the pokemon, however.

AO3 Link: A Spark of Something New

Next Chapter Immediately Available on Patreon

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If you enjoy this story then check out my Writing Commissions.

…or, if you prefer, you can just buy me a ko-fi! ☕ …or, if you have a nice allowance, support me on Patreon! 🪶

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Chapter 8 - Emmet (Without Ingo) Makes A Friend

“I am Emmet. Today has been the worst.” Normally, that was the point Ingo would tell him he was being dramatic. Instead, over his xtrans, Emmet heard a little huff of agreement. It was definitely bad. “How are the Lines?”

“Once again up and running optimally,” Ingo replied swiftly, sounding as exhausted as Emmet felt. “The Drilbur infestation has been soundly and swiftly dealt with and all Drilbur have been caught and transferred to Professor Juniper’s lab for re-release! Time of arrival to the Pokecenter?”

“Almost there,” Emmet said instead of taking the time to calculate how long it would take him at his current walking pace. That involved math. He was too tired for math. He was pretty sure he heard Ingo make a noise that was either sympathetic or frustrated.

“You should have let me go since I’ll be the one using the team next.” Ah. An Ingo lecture. Emmet was good at tuning those out.

“No. My Doubles matches were this morning. It is my responsibility to see that they are healed before their Singles matches.” On a normal day Emmet would have let the healing staff at the station take care of their pokemon, but with the Drilbur infestation there had been a lot of injured pokemon to deal with. It was easier to use his limited time to visit the Pokecenter. “You also skipped breakfast to work early and assist with maintenance. Keep eating.”

Emmet brought up his wrist to glare at the screen, pleased to see that Ingo made a disgruntled scoff before munching bitterly on a forkful of salad. Emmet would have complained more, normally, but that could wait until he was sure Ingo was well-fed and not at risk of derailing himself. He was verrry bad at being selfish, after all. 

“Ah. Entering the center now,” Emmet informed him, stepping into the Nimbasa Pokecenter and looking around to see it wasn’t too busy as he approached the front desk, only one other person there and waiting and the Nurse Joy most likely doing something in the back. It was the off-season for the Gym Challenge, he supposed. Winter would only be a few weeks away, perhaps a month at most. Most Challengers were back at home or had returned to school.

“Please be sure to eat yourself once you return to the station,” Ingo lectured, Emmet nodding along because Emmet, at least, was selfish enough to eat at least a few bites before rushing off to the next task. “A full meal, Emmet, not simply a granola bar!” Damn. His brother knew him too well. 

“I will- Hm.” Emmet paused, staring down at the shiny Joltik that was staring back up at him from the counter. The Joltik gave a few taps to the counter with his claws before throwing off a few sparks, Emmet beaming. “I will call you back.” Hanging up on his brother and not listening to his response, Emmet reached out a finger to gently pet the Joltik’s back. “Hello, Spark.”

Looking back up at the other person on the counter, Emmet was highly amused to see that while it was Andy, they were wearing a lab coat and a tie. Verrry unlike their last few outfits Emmet had seen them in. Curiously, he watched Andy yawn, tilting their head towards their right shoulder before snapping up and looking around frantically. It was delightful to watch them look at Emmet before groaning loudly in what seemed to be disbelief. “Seriously, are you following me? This city is huge!” 

“Mhm. Yup. It is verrry big. This is also the closest Pokecenter to Gear Station.” Emmet grinned as Andy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I was not aware you worked in a lab.”

“A- Oh.” Andy looked down at their coat, shaking their head. “No. I don’t. They just make us wear these stupid- Hang on.” Nurse Joy had returned, carrying a small box that Andy sighed in relief at seeing. Interesting. “Thank you.”

“Of course! Thank you for bringing our own supplies back,” Nurse Joy laughed, patting at a box that rested on the desk behind the counter. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“No, thank you, that should be all.” Leaving Andy to check over whatever was in the package, which Emmet found himself curious about, he instead focused on Nurse Joy as she turned to him.

“Oh! Hello, Emmet. Healing the team here today?” Ah, the joys of having someone who knew their routines and was already preparing a tray for all the pokeballs.

“Yup!” Emmet set them all in carefully, delighted as always that Nurse Joy didn’t chain him down with small talk and instead went to work at once at healing the team. He did notice Andy’s curious look over to him. “Ingo and I will use the Pokecenter over the healing staff at Gear Station depending on supply level and time. Nurse Joy is verrry familiar with us here!”

“Guess you’re working yourself today seeing as you’re wearing your own white coat,” Andy said, tone making it seem like they were joking. They were very obviously not good at it. “The, uh, place I work for, they were expecting a delivery for some hard copy data, but it got switched with a supply of items for the Pokecenter, so someone needed to come collect it. I’m getting paid no matter what, so at least there’s that, and no one else wanted to go, since we were doing this group bonding morale hour thing after lunch.” Ah… Emmet was seeing the full picture.

Andy was still rambling, making no move to head for the door. They obviously were not fond of forced social obligations. Emmet could relate. It seemed they were looking for an excuse to not go back to work quite yet. Emmet could help with that. First things first, however. “Is it an Andrew or Andrea day?”

Andy, who had set the box back down and had been in the middle of talking, paused, stumbled, and blinked up at him. Emmet almost expected to get huffed at for interrupting, but instead they beamed, hands doing a few light flaps at their side that was wonderfully familiar. “Andrew. It’s an Andrew day.” Mm. They- He didn’t get asked that often, then.

“You were telling me why your work makes you wear lab coats.” Because Emmet was actually a little curious about that. It also seemed like something Andy was happy to rant about. He was very much like Ingo in that way. Once he found something to talk about, he was able to simply talk.

In the time it took Nurse Joy to return Emmet learned that Andy worked in data entry for the National Pokedex after Lenora recommended it, which made the surprise he felt less surprising, and the fact that Andy thought he would be working not in Nimbasa, which made much more sense for someone afraid of pokemon and battling. 

“So,” Andy finished with a sigh, trailing after him with his box once the team had been returned fully healed. “I take it the Station is low on supplies if you’re here?”

“Ah. Drilbur infestation. Ingo needs the team fully healed for the Singles Line so I came here. He wanted to, but he needed to eat lunch.” Emmet paused at Andy’s laugh, bright and sudden. “Hm?”

“Sorry, just- Looks like we’re both using our lunch breaks to get some extra work in.” Lunch break? Hadn’t he said it was some morale hour thing he was avoiding? Andy must have been decent at reading facial expressions, because he gave a shrug. “Morale hour takes place after lunch, so I just got an early start on this and hoped it would take long enough I would miss most of it when I got back.”

Emmet nodded. “Which means you already ate lunch. Good.” Spark had jumped from Andy’s shoulder to the box, chirping in the tone Nugget always used on him when ratting him out to Ingo for not eating. “Ah. You did not eat.”

“I did,” Andy lied, Emmet staring him down. “This morning… Why do you know how to understand Joltiks so well, anyway! Can you just speak to pokemon?”

“No,” Emmet said, laughing in Andy’s face and delighting in the annoyed glare it earned him. So easy to tease. “And all safety checks must be performed!” 

With that Emmet was easily swiping the box from Andy’s hands, turning and marching opposite the way towards Gear Station. Spark, delightfully, remained on the box. “Wha- Hey! Don’t just- Don’t just take my stuff and my pokemon and- Emmet!” 

“There is a food stall this way that provides good, cheap food,” Emmet explained once Andy caught up, the other still grumbling and fussing as Emmet refused to return the box. It was likely Andy would just run in the opposite direction to escape. That’s what Emmet would do. Hm. Maybe he should distract the other with small talk? Ah, how did small talk work again… 

Emmet managed to at least discuss the weather for a minute or two, and even comment on something he had heard Elesa complaining about the previous week. That was enough conversation to get to the stall, and then they were able to talk about what to order. Emmet got his food in a bag to eat once he returned to the station, waiting for Andy to catch up to him as he checked his xtrans. 

“So. You don’t really do small talk, huh?” Ah. So it was noticeable. Emmet made sure to not look away from his xtrans as he answered. Less embarrassing that way.

“There is not much I find interesting. What I am interested in tends to be what others aren’t interested in.” Pokemon battling was one thing, but in-depth discussions on IV and moveset breeding was another.

The two of them were quiet as Emmet skimmed through his messages. Ingo was asking where he was and why he had hung up. He couldn’t exactly text back while holding the box and Spark with one hand, but Andy was finally eating, even if it was a food stall pastry. Emmet had a feeling Andy did not eat while working very often. Maybe-

“You could talk about trains.” Snapped out of his thoughts, Emmet shot his gaze to Andy, who was watching him quietly. “You and your brother like trains, right? I, um, I’d be interested in learning about that a little. I mean, I don’t know much, but, uh, that- That first night? The one we met? You and Ingo were talking about- About bullet trains, right? How they were more popular in Kanto than in Johto?”

Oh. Someone had listened to them. Andy had been coming out of a panic attack. He had been overwhelmed. Scared. Surrounded by two strange men and a pokemon he feared. He had still listened to them. He had even remembered. Emmet wasn’t sure what his expression was, but Andy smiled. “My office building is a couple blocks north of Gear Station, so, uh… I’ll be walking with you a bit, if you don’t mind.” 

That was all Emmet needed before he started talking. It wasn’t as good as it was with Ingo, who could keep up with him and happily engage in the technical details, but Andy was actively listening. He even asked a few questions that let him go more in-depth. He had an opinion on the bullet train versus magnet train debate! It was nice! 

Before he knew it they were at Gear Station, Emmet finally handing the box, and Spark, back over to Andy, who had finished eating. “Thanks,” Andy said, snorting when Spark hopped up to sit back on his shoulder. “Alright, you little traitor.”

“Please remember your safety checks in the future!” Emmet decided to settle on saying, grinning as Andy rolled their eyes. With the coat that looked a size too big and the fact Andy only came up to his shoulder he looked so small. Like a stray pokemon, truly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Andy fell silent, staying in place before looking at him properly. “You know, I don’t have anything that I’m really interested in, not like you and Ingo are with your trains and with battling. So, you know, it’s- It’s nice. I liked hearing about how excited you were about what you love.” Andy lingered a second more before turning to leave, shuffling the box around before giving a little wave. “See you later!”

Emmet waved back, quiet as he followed the familiar path to the Singles Line, boarding about to begin in two minutes and twenty-seven seconds and Ingo waiting near his battling car and scanning the crowd for him. When he made it to his side, Ingo was fussing at once. “There you are. You could have at least answered one of my texts- Ah, you have food!” Ingo paused, staring at him. “You bought actual food?”

“Yup!” Emmet shuffled the bag to his other wrist, handing Ingo the team members he would need for his battles. “Sorry for the delay, I was…” Emmet paused, feeling Ingo’s gaze on him as he stared down at his bag of food before smiling at his brother. “I was speaking with a friend.”

[corvuserpens]

A Girl, An Ocean {A Black Sails fanfic} - Ch. 6

Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: None Characters: Billy Bones, Hal Gates, James Flint, Jean DuBois, Mr. Logan, Mr. Muldoon, protagonist OC, supporting OCs Relationships: Billy Bones/OC, Hal Gates/OC (paternal), Jean duBois/OC (bffs) Additional tags: Original character-centric, first person POV, canon character x original character romance, self-discovery journey, kinda alternative prequel to canon, canon compliant, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting sweetness, cute but also sexy, angst galore, found family, Hal Gates has two children now, canon typical violence Series: Part One of Six of A Girl, An Ocean Chapters: 6/13 Summary: At last, the crew arrives in Nassau and Constance gets to see it for the very first time. However, the experience is somewhat spoiled when the crew is called for one of the most dangerous and tedious labors a pirate must endure: careening.

Author's note: Originally, I had a particularly dramatic scene in this chapter written in a completely different way, and then I realized it was completely bonkers because of physics and had to change it 😅No matter. I ended up enjoying this version far better.

Chapter vi.

About a week later, we finally made landfall.

It was a foggy morning, as so often seemed to be the case. The sun had just begun its traverse through the sky, struggling to peek through the thick veil of mist, which rendered the sky a milky tone of white. The sea was calm, with small peaks of foam dotting her vast expanse here and there, whilst the Walrus' keel cut through them like scissors on silk.

At the helm, Mr. De Groot informed me that the island should be within sight any time, now. He gave me leave of my lessons to go climb the shrouds and search for it, even lent his spyglass so I could scan the horizon.

My heart pounded with anticipation. Despite the chilly breeze propelling us forward, my blood ran hot in my veins. Many were the stories I had heard of New Providence Island, each more terrifying than the last, so embellished and impregnated with legend that it became blanketed with an aura of myth. From England, it seemed so distant, so far away from my own perception that one could almost be forgiven for believing it didn't even exist.

But now... Now, I was about to see it with my own eyes.

As the hours passed, the mist dispersed. Sunlight forced its way through the wisps of cloud in bright beams, making the water glitter like jewels. Sea birds followed our sails with great cries, our very own welcoming committee. I noted that the usual smells of the sea were beginning to mingle with something else – wood smoke, tar, spices. Smells from land. I swerved the spyglass around more avidly, searching... searching...

And then... I saw it.

Nassau.

With a gasp, I scurried down the shrouds and ran along the railings, toward the bow. I gave poor Mr. Folsom a scare; he nearly choked on the apple he was eating.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelled. “What's the damn rush??”

But I didn't stop to reply. My whole body was crackling with energy. Using my recently developed agility, I hopped onto the forecastle, past the rails and crawled along the bowsprit on all fours until I could grab onto the ropes connecting the sails to the foremast. I was risking a fall that would most certainly get me trampled by the ship's unstoppable hull, all so I could take a closer look.

Behind me, I heard dispersed laughter from the morning watch, no doubt amused at my childish excitement. It would be at least one more hour until we entered the bay and dropped anchor, but I didn't want to miss a single detail of that moment. I sat and straddled the bowsprit the whole while it took for the Walrus to approach.

Slowly, the featureless line of brown and green became more discernible. The first thing I noticed was the fort: a stone structure sitting on top of a tall hill, the sentry that would protect the town and its denizens from invasion by sea. Those smells I'd sensed so faintly, earlier, became stronger. At last, the settlement itself came into full view.

Nassau Town was unlike any place I had ever seen before. Here, there were no grand monuments of granite and marble - instead, tents and rickety wood structures dotted the white sand beaches. From a distance, the people were no more than ants scurrying about, and although I couldn't distinguish any of them individually, I could hear them. The racket coming from land was a constant droning of countless voices mixed with music played from de-tuned, old instruments.

And the smells... Spices and tar, but also roasting meats and drying fish, cracked and stale wood, freshly pressed sails, obnoxious perfumes, human bodies, all of them combined into a single odor that belonged only to Nassau. In the years that followed, and after countless adventures lived, I found that there was nowhere else in the world that smelled the same. It smelled like decadence and depravity. It smelled like home.

I could hardly wait to get on a launch and explore it.

However, my plans of running around town and soak it all in were about to get cut short. The anchors had barely gotten wet when Mr. Gates' voice thundered across the deck: "Listen up, you band of lubbers! Before you rush off toward the brothel, let it be known that you are all to report for the careening by eight bells to beach the old girl." A wave of groans followed these words. Since I had no idea what careening was, I turned to Logan with a furrowed brow. "He means bring the ship ashore to clear the hull of marine growth," he explained dejectedly. "Takes a long fucking time and it's rough work."

"Now, I know that's not what you want to hear," Gates conceded. "But you know as well as I that a proper and regular cleaning makes all the difference when we're on the hunt. It means a swifter, faster ship, which leads to better hauls and more gold lining your pockets that you can then piss away in a day or two with women and booze." That got a roiling cackle out of the men. Once again, just like that, Mr. Gates was able to shift the mood from a resisting force into something constructive. Whether the credit for it lied with the quartermaster's talent to mold people's minds at will, or the prospect of even more gold, prostitutes and rum, was hard to say.

The crew went out by order of seniority, which meant that, as the most recent recruit, I was stuck at the very back of the line. I paced around the deck like a woman possessed, pestering everyone with questions, crawling up and down the masts, making sure I had everything I needed to bring with me to land (which wasn't much, anyway). It was only half an hour, no more than that, that I had to wait, but it felt like an eternity.

Either way, before long I was in the water with the other newbies, including Jean, and we rowed together to shore. The closer we got, the more my senses were overwhelmed by the chaos of it all. Wherever I looked, there was something happening, something worth paying attention to, something disgusting that made me gag, something that filled me with wonder. I must have looked like a child in Christmas, surrounded by all that novelty, incapable of choosing a single thing to unravel and inspect furthest.

Next to me, Jean sniggered. "Your head is like a banner in the wind. You best be careful not to snap your neck!" I smiled from ear to ear. "I know, it's just... There is just so... Everything is so much, you know? I've never seen anything like it."

"Oui, I know. You never forget your first time in Nassau." Jean let out a wistful sigh, recalling his own experience with a nostalgic smile. In a matter of minutes, our group was on the jetty and spread through town. The sheer amount of goings-on was dizzying; I scarcely knew where to turn! Thankfully, I had Jean there to ground me and keep me from getting lost. He led me through the confusion of bodies, tents and objects of every kind like a veteran.

Once we found ourselves right at the center of it all, he stopped and turned to me. "So. Where would you like to start?" "Oh, Jesus, I don't know..." I spun around slowly for a moment, overwhelmed and at a loss. Not a minute ago, the jetty was behind us, but now it was nowhere in sight. I was irreparably turned around. "Where do you normally go?"

Just then, Muldoon and Logan emerged from the confusion and stood by my side. They traded a cheeky look that immediately made me regret asking anything. "Of course," I sighed with a shrug. "Stupid question." "Yeah, you really set yourself up for that one, didn't ya?" Logan snorted. "THAT may be a little too much for your Ladyship's sensibilities," Muldoon joked. "Fuck you," I snapped back. God forgive me, I was getting far too comfortable with profanities.

He patted my shoulder and nodded for us to follow him. "Let's start with the tavern and we'll go from there. C'mon." The tavern, as it turned out, was like a microcosm of the street: loud, bustling, ever-shifting. The only difference was that it was much more cramped - we literally had to shove people out of the way to even get to the bar. And it was stuffy in there. The weather in and of itself was hot enough, in the Bahamas; couple that with the human heat and the smell of sweat in that room and suddenly one knew exactly what a pod corn felt like boiling in a pot.

Still, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. People laughed and drank and played cards, or told each other about their latest conquests or traded gossip. The wooden furniture and open windows with their hand knitted off-white curtains blowing in the lazy breeze made the space feel cozy, almost homey, especially as the servants passed through the narrow space with trays full of steaming food.

When we finally reached the bar, Logan ordered lunch for us while Muldoon, Jean and I found a table. We ended up having to share it with a group of four already occupying most of it, but from the way my shipmates greeted them loudly, it was evident they were already acquainted. Muldoon didn't even have to ask; they invited us to sit instantly, shuffling around to make room for our group.

At first, I felt somewhat like an intruder, but the man sitting at my right, a burly one with arms thrice the width of mine and a bushy greying beard, offered me a tankard of ale with a warm smile, like we knew each other for decades. In a matter of seconds, I felt myself relax, for something in my gut told me I could trust him, that he meant no harm. I accepted the ale and took a swig to quench my parched throat. Although bitter, it was cool and satisfying in that intense heat.

The man patted my back with a laugh, and even if I almost choked from how hard he hit me, I joined in on his contagious laugh. I had never felt so accepted among strangers, so welcomed.

"That there is Hammer," Muldoon told me. "So named because he's good at using a hammer, whether to build or to crack a skull open, but mostly because he likes nothing more than to get hammered." A burst of cackles rattled the table. Hammer, not one bit offended at the jab, offered me his meaty hand, which I was going to shake, until he leaned down and placed the gentlest kiss on my knuckles. "A pleasure, m'lady." It was such an honest gesture, genuinely sweet and unassuming, that I had to giggle through a blush. At least he had manners, unlike some other pirates I knew.

"Nice to meet you, Hammer. I'm Constance."

Jean tapped my arm. “Look, over there. Here comes the Pirate Queen.”

I stretched my neck to see whom he was pointing at.

From the back of the room, a petite blonde lady crossed the tavern with the haughty gait of nobility. What she lacked in stature, she made up for it in poise; while she passed by our table like we weren't even there, she struck me as much taller based on her confidence alone. Men twice her size hurried out of her path and greeted her with utmost respect.

Long skirts covered her legs and her hair was done up in complex coils, but from the waist up she wore a vest over her blouse and a cravat, like a man. I couldn't help to notice how beautiful she was.

“Who is that?” I inquired after she was gone.

“Eleanor Guthrie,” Logan answered. “She's the boss, around here. Her father used to be in charge, but after the Rosario raids, he fucked off to Harbour Island and she took his place. All trade on the island goes through her. It's thanks to her that we get to earn a living stealing off of rich merchant ships.”

“How does she do that?”

“We come in with our cargo, she stamps the Guthrie name on it and sells it to the colonies as if it were legitimately obtained.”

“It's the worst kept secret in the Bahamas, so I'm told,” Jean muttered. “But while Mr. Guthrie lines the pockets of the governors, the magistrates, the colonels and every other navy officer in on it, they won't lift a finger to accuse him. Everyone gets a piece of the cake, so to speak, and that's how we stay in business.”

I arched my eyebrows in incredulity. So that was the real issue with Nassau and her pirate scourge. It wasn't the pirates themselves; it was the corruption. And for as long as that corruption remained out of reach of the gavels in Whitehall... The problem would continue unresolved.

And now, I had become part of that problem.

I smirked to myself and drank some more ale. I once heard Folsom say something like, one man's trash is another man's treasure. In this case, one nation's problem was another woman's solution.

My solution.

I prayed that the corruption ran rampant in Nassau for many centuries to come.

*** After filling our bellies with roast pork, potatoes and a generous but not exaggerated amount of grog, our party returned to the beach to board the Walrus and steer her to a careenage - the steep beach we would use for the endeavor of beaching our ship. Normally, the maintenance of the hull and keel was made on a dry dock, but there wasn't one in Nassau, so we had to do it the hard way.

The way Logan explained the process of what we would be doing was something like this: during the high tide, our longboats would row in the Walrus until the keel touched the sand. Next, those on land would pull her further in. The ship would then be tilted at an angle on her side and the masts tied down to trees or whatever else was rooted firmly to the ground. Lastly, during the low tide, we could clear the hull of seaweed and barnacles with scoops. When one side was done, we would bring her back into the water, turn her around, and repeat the process. When both sides were done, she would be ready to sail again.

Careening could take anywhere between a few days to weeks. Everything that wasn't bolted down to the ship needed to be brought out, guns included (which we could use as anchor points in the absence of trees). What could be repaired would be brought to town; everything else was disposed of. The more Logan elaborated on the whole exercise, the least I looked forward to it.

When we arrived at the careenage, the longboats were already taking advantage of the tides to bring in the Walrus and a small crowd waited in the shade, while others bathed themselves in the sea to cool off.

Somewhere to the side, a tent was being erected. I noticed a small flock of scantly clad women sat near it, fanning themselves and fluttering their long lashes at any sailor who passed by. As we dropped on the cold sand beneath a palm tree, I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my stomach.

"Muldoon?” I said. “Who are those women?" He twisted around to look over his shoulder and gave me a shark-like grin. "Never you mind that. You probably wouldn't be interested, anyway."

I arched an inquisitive brow at him. "Interested...?" "You don't know that." Logan gave the other a playful shove. "Maybe she is into it and just doesn't know it yet. Don't knock it 'till you've tried it." "Oh, so you admit you've tried it with a bloke before?" Muldoon chortled. "I knew you were secretly queer, you bastard!" "No, I didn't say that!" Another shove, this one harsher than before, though it only made Muldoon laugh louder. "You know I only have eyes for Charlotte. In my case, I don't need to try it to know I won't enjoy it. A man knows these things." I turned to Jean while those two bickered. His face was flushed red, but I assumed it was from the heat, nothing more. Still, he was unusually quiet. "What the fuck are they talking about? And who's Charlotte?" He cleared his throat and refused to look at me whilst he scratched the back of his head. "Um... Well, you see, those women? They were hired from the brothel. Charlotte is... well..."

"A prostitute." Muldoon stated, plain and simple. "That there, is what we in the industry call a fuck tent." Now I was the one with a burning face. My mouth hung open in shock as I stared first at him, then at Logan (who winked and wagged his brows suggestively) and finally at Jean, who could do no more than glance sideways in my direction.

I had never heard of such a thing. It was scandalous! And yet... I was not at all surprised. Of course pirates would have something called a fuck tent.

"Oh." I huffed.

To their credit, Logan and Muldoon stifled back the need to laugh at my ignorance and lady-like mannerisms. "I suppose we don't need to explain what it's for, do we?" I shook my head. "No, thank you."

An hour latter, the Walrus was ready to be hauled ashore. Billy Bones divided us into lines across the beach so we were ready to receive the cables tossed to us from the ship. I was placed along the foremast, somewhere in the middle, between Logan, behind me, and Jean, at the front.

After verifying that everyone was in position, Billy joined the line at my left and wrapped his hands around the tether. "Aright, everyone ready?" He shouted.

In response, the crew gave a loud and unison 'Aye!'

"That's what I like to hear. On my mark!... Two, six--" "Heave!"

As one, we pulled on the cables. The sand shifted beneath my feet and I almost stumbled, but managed to remain firmly on them while tugging. Although the effort was great, since it was well distributed I found no difficulty to it. Not at first, at least. In a steady, continuous rhythm, Billy barked: "Two, six--!" "Heave!" Another strong tug. "Two, six--" "Heave!!" I screamed as loud as my voice and lungs permitted. Surprisingly, it did help make the exercise easier.

"Steady!" Billy adjusted his grip. His arms bulged with each pull, making the rolled up sleeves of his shirt strain under the stress.

Quickly, I turned my attention back to my task.

"Slow and steady!” He repeated. “Don't tire yourselves out!"

"C'mon boys, put your backs into it!" From the mizzen mast lines, Mr. de Groot's roughen voice reached my ears, encouraging the men.

For every pull and every step, the Walrus crept up the beach, a hulking beast that towered over the crew, ready to devour us. As I looked up at her massive hull and far-reaching masts, I felt tiny and insignificant before such a marvel of wood and rigging. "Oh, wow..." I swooned, awestruck. "Constance!" Billy called. "Get back to work!"

With a startle, I realised my grip had gone slack with my distraction.

"Sorry!" I scrambled to get back into the rhythm.

For God knew how long, we persisted on this almost Sisyphean task until the Walrus could go no further up the beach and our bodies could take no more. The job in itself wasn't so bad - it was the unrelenting sun and the heat. Swear dripped down my chest, my forehead, my back... everywhere, really! It got in my eyes and made them sting. My skin was so hot, I was about ready to rip it out with my own fingernails.

"Hold!" Billy commanded.

We pinned the balls of our feet into the sand and held the ropes in place.

I gripped my share with both hands close together, which strained my shoulders and back to the breaking point. With gritted teeth, I prayed the riggers would be quick with the lashes so I could finally let go.

"Psst! Constance!"

I looked back to Logan, who held on in a completely different posture. So did everyone else, in fact.

"Like this." He twisted his body to the side, just enough for me to see what he was doing. His feet were spread evenly apart, one in front, the other back. Likewise, he maintained his right hand in front of him, but the left was tucked close to his side, to keep the rope over his hip in a subtle angle.

As fast as I dared, I adjusted my pose to match his. Immediately, my muscles sighed in relief, while the cable remained secure. "Like this?"

"Just like that." He grinned with approval. "Feels better, doesn't it?"

"Much," I agreed, smiling back. "Thanks."

Fortunately, the riggers worked the ropes fast and swift, so we didn't have to wait much longer. Billy oversaw their task from his position while practically hanging off the cable like my uncle Charles' pet Capuchin, using his sheer weight to keep it taunt.

He whistled to get their attention. "All good, there?"

“We're good!” I heard Folsom confirm.

"Everyone! Release her, slowly! Slowly..."

Little by little, we let the tethers loose and hoped the anchor points would hold. I felt the hemp coils gently slip from my grasp, chafing my skin, and then it stopped. Up on high, the masts groaned in protest for a few seconds, and finally went quiet.

Still, for safety, we kept our fingers wrapped on the cables for another minute. Apart from the wind on the palm fronds and the lull of the waves, an eerie silence hung heavy on the beach.

When nothing happened, we collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good job, lads." Billy said, signalling for us to let go and relax.

I massaged my back with a drawn out breath, then my thighs. I wasn't the only one; most of the crew complained from their arms and legs. Some simply let themselves flop on the sand like flounders. I myself felt tempted to do the same, but somehow managed to stay upright.

I'm gonna be so stiff, come morning, I groaned internally. And we still had to take care of the barnacles. Lord have mercy.

As I straightened up, I saw Billy walking among his mates to check if everyone was alright.

"Take a break while I divide the shifts," he said, just as he ducked under the cable at my left and passed our line by, one man at a time. When he reached me, he gave my shoulder a gentle touch and arched his eyebrows in a mute inquiry for my well-being. I nodded to let him know I was fine and he moved on. I turned to watch as he and Logan clasped their hands in a brotherly exchange and kept going, further and further away from me.

For some reason... I felt appreciated by that quick, yet meaningful pause to make sure I wasn't hurt. So did the others, I imagined. No wonder he was so loved by everyone. Frankly, he made it easy to like him.

"Thirty minutes, no more!” He warned once he reached the last man on our file. “Let's see..."

All around me, the crew began to dispose of their vests and shirts, unceremoniously. I could hardly blame them - their clothes were drenched with sweat and their faces were red from the effort, the heat and the booze they had likely consumed before presenting themselves for duty.

My borrowed shift was all humid as well. The way it stuck to my skin was so very uncomfortable, even as I pulled it away from my torso.

I followed Logan and Jean toward the water barrels for a much needed drink and saw they too had their backs bared to the sun.

"I wish I could do that," I hummed.

Logan snickered. "I mean, you could, if you really wanted to. No rules against it, here. It's not like none of us have never seen breasts before." The heavy layer of hope in his tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Dream on," I bit back while I poured a cup of fresh water. The feeling of it down my dry throat was like a balm on a burn, instantly relieving it. As soon as the cup was empty, I scooped up another.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, then moved off to go find some shade.

Jean smiled timidly at me, then cupped his hands in the barrel to drench his face and neck. Once he was cool and satisfied, he sighed and leaned with his hands on it.

“Want to go dip our feet in the sea?” He offered.

“Hmm, let's.”

We went down the beach and walked out until the waves lapped at our ankles, close to the knee. Just our luck, a drooping palm tree had taken root near the water line, the perfect shelter from the sun.

I closed my eyes as we stood beneath its wide fronds. I don't know how long we stood there, just listening to the ocean and drinking water, but honestly? I could have stayed there in silence with my friend until nightfall.

“Feels nice, doesn't it?” He murmured.

I peeked from one eye. He had his closed, too, plus his hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers. I shut both lids again and smiled. “It does. One of these days, we should come back during down time and just sit right here.”

“There's a great idea,” he chuckled. “We bring something to eat, some good ale, proper attire to go for a swim, if we want. Mon Dieu... I would want for nothing else.”

On that, I completely concurred. The soft breeze blew my hair to the side and brushed my neck deliciously. I pulled it out of my shoulders, pinned it down on top of my head and almost moaned. I could sense the excessive heat pour out of my body and it felt so fucking good.

Unfortunately, duty called. And it sounded just like Billy Bones.

"Gather 'round, you bunch of lazy bums! Gather 'round for the shifts.”

A chorus of groans followed his call.

“C'mon, you've had your rest, now get over here."

Sighing, I finished my water and prepared to go back to work.

However, when I turned around on my feet, I got my first good look at the ship's hull and felt my heart drop to the ground: it wasn't wood colored, like it was supposed to - it was white with barnacles!

How the fuck were we supposed to remove all that? It seemed impossible!

Jean, who was a couple of paces ahead of me, stopped, looked over his shoulder when he realized I had stayed behind and burst into laughter. My face of terror must have seemed hilarious to him.

“Considering making a run for it?” He jested.

In response, all I did was stare at him slack-jawed. He laughed some more and kept going.

Oh God, oh sweet baby Jesus, please let me have the second shift.

I stopped at the edge of the gathering crowd and crossed my fingers. Billy read aloud from the list he'd made.

"First shift: Abel. Bobby. Burns. Craig. Constance..."

Fuck. So much for my adoration for Billy.

With slumped shoulders and a resigned heart, I joined the growing line of unlucky bastards who would get to start scrapping barnacles until six bells.

*** "You're sure this is necessary?" I asked Folsom at around four bells.

For the better part of the afternoon, I had been breaking my nails and covering my hands in bloody gashes by prying the blasted barnacles from the port side of the keel. Half of our team worked on the ground or even under the hull, while the other was on scaffolds and hung from suspended planks to do the upper part of the ship.

We would take breaks once in a while for about thirty minutes each. Once again, being the newest addition, I was last to get my turn. Obviously.

When it finally came, I drank at least three cups of water before I flopped on my back under the extensive shade of the ship. It felt so nice, I almost fell asleep... Until someone tapped my leg.

Folsom was grinning down at me with his near-toothless mouth when I cracked my eyes open. Behind him stood Muldoon and Logan, both also smirking like they shared a secret. They were there to tell me my break was over and it was time to go back to work, except instead of leading me to the hull, they made me climb a net that hung from the rails, then the shroud, all the way to the mast. Folsom accompanied me and brought a coil of rope wrapped around his torso. The excuse they gave me to get up there was that the main sail footrope needed replacement, but it made no sense. Tilted at that steep angle, it seemed impossible. Still, given that they were all far more experienced than I and how eager I was to impress them, I followed along.

And so, there we were, hanging several hundred feet off the ground.

"Aye, quite necessary," he assured me. "You don't want the rope snapping while one of us is on it, do you?" "Sure, but why don't we do it when the ship is upright?" I questioned whilst crawling over the platform's aperture around the mast to get to the footrope in question. "This feels dangerous."

I went quiet to focus on not falling to my death. Folsom didn't reply. After I found a good position straddling the mast, I turned - and caught him shimmying down the rope he had brought along while stifling a snort. On the ground, far, far below me, the rest of my shift looked up with big smiles as they urged him down. "Oy!" I called. "Where the hell are you going?!" "Why, off for a quick fuck and a tankard of ale!" Folsom cackled. "Wait--" I looked around, suddenly realizing that I had no idea how to get out from my position without help. My heart burst into a mad rhythm. "How am I supposed to get down??"

"Oh, don't worry, love!" I heard Muldoon cackled. "We'll come back to get you in no time!... As soon as we're done, of course!" "Folsom!!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs, equal parts furious and scared out of my wits. "Folsom, you get back up here right now or so help me God!!!"

"Hazing's not over yet, newbie!" He laughed. When he reached firm ground, he gave the rope a tug and I watched in utter horror as the knot he'd tied broke up and the line fell at his feet. "Hang in there, Constance!" Logan joked. Then, they all turned around and walked away to our camp, leaving me trapped on the mast.

Oh, I was SO going to knock the rest of Folsom's teeth out. With an oar! And chase the rest of them out of town for a fortnight! Bloody... pirates!! Shit, I was so high up. I could see the town, a few miles from where we were. I could also see the fort and a good stretch of the jungles toward the interior. So, the view was nice.

But the heat... the heat was unbearable.

With my sleeve, I wiped the thick layer of sweat from my forehead and tried to ignore the feeling of boiling alive from the inside out. Summer was almost upon us, which meant the sun wouldn't go down for at least another three or four hours. And God only knew how long those bastards would take coming back. "Fuck..." I bent my body forward so I could rest my forehead on the mast. It was growing weak from the labor and the sweltering temperatures. How long had I been perching there...? A minute? Ten? An hour? Whatever water I had taken during my break was long gone, poured right out of my skin, and now a mad thirst gripped my throat. If I stayed up there much longer, I was sure to faint and drop. I would most certainly die.

Somehow, I had to find a way out of that mast.

I glanced behind me, at the platform. The shrouds were well within my reach. If I could shuffle backwards and crawl through again, I could climb down to safety. I just had to keep telling myself it wasn't so hard.

Besides... I could just imagine the look on those morons' faces when I found them and slapped them all across the face, one by one. The thought put a frail smile on my lips. They were going to pay dearly for this prank, oh yes, they were.

Slowly, I started pushing back along the mast, squeezing with my thighs to stay upright. I was so tired, I could barely breathe. My brain was sluggish, like it was about to melt out of my ears. Just another few centimeters... a few more... I reached the platform. As cautiously as I could, I swiped one leg over the mast, then the other, reached out to hold onto the edge of the passage that would lead to the shrouds-- A wave of dizziness robbed me of my balance. My bloodied fingers scrapped the wood and dropped into nothing. Then, my whole body slipped from the mast and suddenly there was nothing separating me from the ground. My heart stopped. I opened my mouth to scream. My hand hooked onto something -- the footrope.

Quickly, I snapped my free arm up and held on for dear life while I swung lazily back and forth.

"Oh dear..." I whispered to myself. Out of some stupid instinct, I took a peek down and immediately regretted it. I was too far high. If I fell, I would break every bone in my body. My flesh would become a gelatinous mess on the beach.

A wave of nausea punched my stomach at the thought.

"Help... Someone..." Fuck, I was scared, almost too scared to raise my voice. “Helloooo...? Help..."

This was it. I was going to die. My little adventure was over before it truly began and it was all over a stupid joke, I couldn't believe it...!

I shut my eyes tight and tried to calm my racing mind. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be how my story ended. I had to fight, just as I'd done with Cutthroat Fred. I kicked my feet to build momentum and try to find purchase on the platform, but my legs had gone numb and my arms were too used up from the day's work. There was no way I could pull myself up.

The crew was in the camp, very close by. I could hear them conversing and shouting at each other, singing shanties, playing music. If I could just scream, someone was bound to hear me. So I sucked in a shaky breath and cried: "Help! Help! Somebody! Heeeeelp!!!"

I could feel my sweaty hands starting to slip. My arms went into spasms, stretched to their limit. It was a matter of time before I fell. I tried to scream louder. "Somebody, please, help me!!" For a short moment, all chatter came to a stop. Then, someone shouted in alarm and a commotion followed, of men calling out for rope, for a net, telling me to hold on, that help was coming.

Above all others, I heard Billy's thunderous roar telling them to get out of the way. I risked another glance down. He hadn't wasted a second; he crawled up the net, ran over the railing on light feet, then up the shroud. In less than a minute, he was at the platform. “Hold on, Constance!" He urged me. "Hold on just a little longer! I'm coming to get you.” My palms chafed against the hemp. “Please, hurry!”

No sooner had the words left my mouth, one of my hands finally gave out. My panicked cry mingled with those of the men on the beach. My fingers trembled on the rope as they lost their strength.

“Fuck! Fuck, Billy, I'm slipping!”

“Almost there!” He passed through the platform, balanced his enormous body on the mast and snatched my wrist at the exact moment I lost my grip on the footrope with a scream. Time stood still. Wide eyed, I stared down at the ground, at the indiscernible faces of the Walrus' men while they held their breaths and brought their hands to their heads. But they stayed where they were. They didn't rush up to me.

Stunned, I slowly let my head fall back. Billy's hand gripped my arm so tight, my fingers had turned purple. He returned my look of shock with his own, like he could scarcely believe he had reached me in time.

“I got you," he puffed. "I got you."

With my breath caught in my lungs, I stared up at his face, red and drenched from his efforts. I could hardly believe I was still alive, too.

"Billy..." He took in a breath, gritted his teeth and heaved me up with only one arm.

The second I was within reach, I hooked my arm onto the mast and clambered up with his help. He fell back on the platform and held me to him, breathing laboriously, while I buried my nose on the crease of his neck and clung onto his shirt like a child did to their parent after a nightmare.

“It's alright.” His voice was quiet and soothing, not at all judgemental, even as I trembled and sobbed into his skin. One of his hands smoothed down my hair in slow sweeps, over and over, which helped settle my nerves, if only a little. “It's alright. You're safe.”

My teeth chattered too much for me to respond, but I was so grateful for him. So grateful. To my shame, hot tears prickled my eyes and ran down my cheeks, staining his shirt. I hoped no one would notice – especially not him.

After a few minutes of this, I finally found my courage, dried my eyes and pulled away. Billy gave me a once over to assess my state and make sure I wasn't hurt. "You all right?" "Y-yes..."

Through the haze of panic, I realized we were much too close. I was practically on top of him. Yet, there was no room for me to put distance between us, so I remained where I was, though I at least moved my hands from his chest to the platform behind him.

"Good..." He cracked a smile and pushed a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "Feeling brave enough to go back down?"

I took a look over my shoulder, saw the thirty or so men below, as small as toy soldiers, and got this strange impression that the ground was rushing further away from me. With a gasp, I shut my eyes tight and shook my head. "That's fine, don't worry." He touched my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We can just sit here for a bit until you're ready, yeah?" I nodded, did my best to focus on my breathing so I could clear my head. How were we going to get out of that predicament? We were too far high, there was barely anything to grab onto, no space for maneuvering. It was impossible.

Against my best efforts, my breath became shallow. My throat clogged up with a new wave of sobs that tried to force their way out. Fuck me, I was going to start crying again, right in front of Billy. Pathetic. Girly. Weak.

"Do you have any siblings?" I snapped my eyes open. For an instant, I forgot all about our current situation. "... What?" I quipped. "I asked if you have any siblings," he repeated. Calmly. Casually. Like we were sitting down for tea instead of perched hundreds of yards in the air. "Brothers? Sisters?"

"I-I do." I shook my head to get it to focus on his question. "Sisters. Five sisters." "No brothers?" Had he perhaps gone mad from the heat? I continued to stare at him with my mouth hanging open. "You want to know about this now?"

"I'm trying to distract you from the fear," he explained with a chuckle.

How was he so tranquil about everything?? Why wasn't he scared out of his mind? It was absurd!

"No brothers, then. Six girls. Tell me about them. Are they older than you? Younger?" I swallowed a lump in my throat. "I'm the third youngest." "How old is the eldest?" My gaze wandered back down.

"Constance." I returned my stare to his. "Keep your eyes on me. How old is your eldest sister?"

His brow was so tense that the skin creased in deep furrows. His eyes were an bright blue color, almost electric, blinding. They demanded my full attention. I found that I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. "Thirty-nine," I sighed. "She's thirty-nine years old." "And the second eldest, how old is she?" "Thirty-four."

"The third eldest?" His gaze softened and, to my surprise, I felt my body start to relax. "She's thirty-two," I told him. My voice was nearly back to normal. "What about you?" He offered me a warm smile that made my stomach do a flip. "How old are you?" I managed a snort. "It's very rude to ask a lady her age."

That got his smile to widen. "Well, I figured since a I already asked about the age of three other ladies, you wouldn't mind. Besides, I'm curious." He rested his head against on the platform. "I want to know." If I didn't know better, I would say he was flirting with me. My gaze dropped to the strings adorning his neck.

"I'm twenty-eight," I murmured. “I will turn twenty-nine in August." He made a little hum. "I'm twenty-eight, too." I looked up again with a stupid wide grin. "You are?" "Just turned, three months ago." "Happy belated birthday," I chuckled.

"Thank you." There was a pause then, like he was waiting for something whilst searching my face. His smile faded away. "What about your two younger sisters? How old are they?" "Twenty-one and fifteen," I replied. "Do you miss them a lot...?" My heart did a plunge. I bit my lip to stop the sorrow from getting the best of me and nodded a couple of times.

"You will see them, again." He swore. "I'm going to get you out of this mess, and you will see them again, alright? I promise." A tremulous smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. "I don't know about the second part... but if you can get me out of this mess, I would consider myself satisfied." I saw a question flash in his eyes, but whatever it was, he didn't pronounce it. Instead, he gave my shoulder another squeeze.

"Ready to go back to solid ground?"

To resist the temptation to look down, I let my eyes shut one last time and pressed my mouth into a tense line. "Not really... but let's go." "Right. Um..." I opened my eyes slowly at his hesitation. He was studying our current position to formulate our exit strategy. It wouldn't be easy; the mast was tilted at a pretty steep angle, which pushed me onto him and offered us very little space to move. His cheeks, already rosy from the heat, turned a brighter shade of red. "Aye, right. Constance... I'm going to need you to pass your leg over me, plant both feet on the platform and... lie back."

Every inch of me went still, even my brain. Especially my brain.

"I... beg your pardon?" "I-I need space to get up and climb to the other side," he stammered, no longer able to look me in the eye. "Which means you have to lie flat on the mast so you won't fall while I do that."

If my face wasn't already burning up, it would have surely combusted. He was talking about my straddling him -- as in, having him between my legs. I might have slapped him, were it not for three things:

One, there were literally no better alternatives.

Two, I liked and respected him too much.

And three, he had just saved my life. "All due respect," Billy muttered as he peered at me with utter embarrassment. "If you really want to get out of here, I'm afraid you're going to have to discard your puritanical sensibilities for a few minutes." It would be the most scandalous thing I had ever done until that moment, but I could recognize it was necessary. So, after taking a shaky breath, I started to move.

Slowly, being extra careful not to touch him, I pulled my left leg up and over his hips. He stayed perfectly still, patiently waiting while I positioned both my feet on either side of him. My face was inches from his; I could feel his shallow breath on my cheek. I licked my dry lips and began to ease myself back, but then stopped, too afraid to drop abruptly and risk falling. I flicked a glance at him. "Would you mind...? Helping me lie back..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Sure."

He took hold of my elbows and lowered me until I was lying fully on my back with him half on top of me.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I could feel it kicking again my ribs, heard it drum in my ears. However, as I looked up at him and he down at me, lips slightly parted over his perfect teeth, it wasn't dread that I felt. At my core, a simmering sensation of heat spread up my belly and down my thighs, filled my chest with an intense longing. Desire. I was feeling desire. "You good?" He hummed, so softly I half wondered if he had spoken at all.

"Aye..." The new wave of thirst filling my mouth had nothing to do with my need to take in water. "I think so..." "Good... In that case, I'm going to let go and get a move on. Do exactly as I do, yeah? I'll wait for you on the other side and we'll climb down the shroud together." "Uh-huh..." His hands slipped away from me so he could lean on the platform again. Next, he turned on his side, grabbed onto the edges of the aperture and slid his legs through it. After he had crossed to the other side, he poked his head out. "C'mon. Remember, don't look down. Keep your eyes on me."

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before I sat up and slid down the mast. I passed one leg first, then the other, going painfully slow compared to when I climbed up. I couldn't understand how I'd done it without a drop of fear, yet now struggled to hold it at bay so I could concentrate.

"That's it..." Billy encouraged me in hushed tones. "Take your time, find your footing. You're doing great, Constance."

He moved back to give me space while I passed the rest of my body through that narrow opening. Never once did I look down, nor let go of the platform. It was the only way I knew to stay calm and collected. "There you go." Billy dropped his feet onto the ratlines and grinned as he rested his arms on the mast. "See? Hard part is done. Now we just climb down, hand over foot."

Right...

I risked a brief glance down. We were still so far from the beach... That illusion of the ground sinking away from me returned, stronger this time. I immediately snapped my gaze back to Billy's, who watched me with some apprehension. "Do you need to stop?" He asked me in that casual tone, no pressure in his voice at all. I shook my head no. The sooner we reached the earth, the better. "Let's go, then. No rush, yeah? I'll match your pace."

Very carefully, I lowered myself onto the shrouds. Billy waited until I was by his side before he too started his descent, so we could go together. The whole while, he reminded me to take my time, to look at my hands, told me I was making good progress. I truly believe that, if it hadn't been for him, I never would have left that mast alive. Finally - finally! - we touched down on the rails. The crew shouted their own encouragement, urging me to keep going, that I was almost there, just a little more. I waved at them so they would know I was all right, but the truth was that, even as we were closer to the ground, it was still too high. I kept a tight grip on the ratlines and fought to contain the nausea rolling in my stomach.

About two and a half meters from me, Billy stopped and frowned. "What's wrong?" "I... I feel dizzy," I moaned. The nausea, I realized, was caused by the light-weight sensation my head was in, coupled with swimming vision and a feeling of being out of balance. I was certain that if I let go of the shrouds, I would faint and probably never wake again. Billy shuffled sideways to return to my side and held out his arm. "Take my hand. I'll help you." Struggling to control my breaths, I stared at his open palm for a second or two before taking it. However, as he started to move away, I gripped it tight and froze. When he realized I wasn't moving, he looked up and tilted his head. "What if I fall...?" I whispered. My bulging eyes clung to his desperately, but he only smiled and squeezed my fingers.

"You won't fall," he said. "I saw you sprint along the bowsprit on all fours like a damn cat. You can do this, Constance. I'm right here and I'm not leaving your side, alright? Even if this takes all night." I let his words envelop me and sighed in relief when my heart settled. We were so close to the end. The net was right there. I could make out the faces of each man below as they waved me over, promising to catch me if I slipped.

Jean was right at the front, pale as a sheet, hands cupped over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

All I had to do was let Billy guide me. Only a few dozen steps later, we reached the net. Billy didn't let go of my hand until the last moment. On wobbly legs, I descended, step by step, one hand over the other...

When I felt hands on my arms, shoulders and back, I knew it was over.

The crew – my crew – aided me down and settled me on the sand. Jean pushed his way through them to kneel at my side and lay a comforting hand on my back. Behind him, a sea of heads hovered over us, telling me to lie on my back and breathe, asking if I was injured, if I needed water, or perhaps some ale? They inquired each other as to what had happened, where was the rest of the watch, why I was up there all alone? I couldn't answer any of their questions. My head was still spinning wildly. Ironically, now that I was on the ground, safe and sound, the nausea was getting worse. I pressed my palms into my eyes and bent over. I was going to vomit any minute, could feel that tell-tale burn just under my jaw getting stronger and stronger. “Get back, you lot!" Billy commanded. "Give her room to breathe. Jean, move over.”

Callous fingers, gentle as the touch of grass, hooked around my wrists and tugged lightly on them. I resisted. "I think I'm going to be sick," I warned them.

"Put your head between your knees. It'll help."

I did so, keeping my eyes closed so the spinning would stop. My mouth watered repeatedly and at first that burn got worse, but with the passing seconds, it faded away. My stomach calmed and returned to normal. Jean rubbed gentle circles on my back while Billy held my hand in one of his. His thumb stroked my skin almost tenderly. "It's all right, Constance," he murmured. "It's over, now. Just breathe."

Jean huffed a laugh and said, in French: "You are, without a doubt, the luckiest girl I've ever met. Christ almighty." I managed a frail chuckle. "Or maybe I just have very good friends," I replied, also in his mother tongue.

At last, I was well enough to sit up straight look at them. Billy was crouching in front of me. The sun shone bright behind him like a halo, giving him this almost angelical look. That, combined with his blue eyes, tinged with concern, his flushed tan skin and his golden hair, always cropped short, struck me in that moment as so beautiful that my breath caught in my throat. The dizziness and the fear washed away from me, replaced with a sense of peace, of... safety. I was safe. Not just from certain death, either; from everything. As long as Billy was there to watch out for me, I would always be safe. He smiled with relief as he saw I had recovered. “There we go. Good girl.”

Hesitantly, the rest of the crew closed in around us. They kept a safe distance for my sake, though they were worried and eager to take a look at me. No one spoke up above a whisper, like they were afraid to perturb me further or break the tranquility both Billy and Jean had instilled in me.

There were no words to describe what I felt for those men, all of them, as I took in each and every one of their faces. I tried many times since then, but they always fell short of how my chest sizzled, igniting with this warm feeling of belonging. More than my crew, this was my family. The one I had chosen and the one that had chosen me, in return.

One thing I do know for sure: after that day, I would have died for any one of them. No exceptions. No conditions.

“Constance!”

All heads turned inland to see who was coming. Billy's face, soft and kind while he took care of me, twisted into a frightening scowl of barely contained rage. He turned to Jean. “Stay with her?”

“Oui,” the other nodded.

Billy let go of my hand, stood to his full height and marched out through the men, who quickly parted to let him pass, spooked by that dark expression.

Mr. de Groot advanced from the crowd. In his hand, he carried a bucket. He took Billy's place and offered a ladle full of water. “How about something to drink, hmm?”

Having mastered my fear, I sat up straight and accepted the water, sipping slowly so I wouldn't choke. Not far from us, an argument exploded.

“Oh God, is she alright?” I heard Muldoon asking – followed by the dry sound of a fist landing on a jaw.

A chorus of “oh” rose and fell in a wave.

“Where the fuck were you?!” Billy bellowed. “You left her up there alone without aid! She almost died!”

Logan's voice: “We were only gone for a minute to get something to eat! It was just a joke, I swear!”

“Well your fucking joke could have cost her life! It's like I'm dealing with a bunch of amateurs instead of seasoned seamen! Are you all amateurs?! What am I always telling you? Stick together and watch each other's backs! And what did you do? The exact fucking opposite! What is wrong with you?!”

No answer.

I couldn't see much, but from a tight breach in the crowd I managed to spot Muldoon on the sand, bleeding from a burst lip. Despite the humiliation, he didn't dare get back on his feet. The mood among the crew was of intense interest mixed with resentment. For me. Against them. If it weren't for Billy standing between them and my watch, they probably would have torn my watch apart for abandoning one of their own in such a precarious, dangerous situation.

De Groot tried to give me more water. “Never you mind that. Have another sip.”

Gently, I turned the ladle down, anxious to see what would happen next. On the one hand, I was angry at them for what they had done; a joke is only a joke while all parties are perfectly safe. This had gone too far. Billy was right, I could have died.

On the other... I couldn't help to pity them. This was grave indeed and the punishment would have to match the trespass.

“Unbelievable.” Billy said. “You really have nothing to say for yourselves?”

“What's going on here?”

Mr. Gates.

Again, all heads whipped around as the crowd parted. And it wasn't just Gates – Captain Flint followed close behind.

His presence alone blanketed us all with a sense of unease.

Captain and quartermaster surveyed the scene: Muldoon bleeding on the sand; my shift mates tweedling their thumbs, chins tilted down in shame; Billy towering over them, arms crossed over his chest; and me, still trembling from the aftershock as Mr. de Groot and Jean tended to me.

Flint's stare hopped from my sheet-white face to the careened ship and back, stopping at my hands. Suddenly, I became very aware of the dried blood that covered them, from scrapping barnacles all afternoon.

Billy gave them the account of what had happened, from the moment they first heard my cries for help to the scolding he was delivering Logan and the rest. Gates' expression turned darker and darker with each word, going red, then purple, then red again. On the other hand, Flint remained impassive, his hands tucked behind his back as he listened.

When Billy finished the report, Gates turned on my friends, fists shaking at him sides.

“These are some serious allegations. I ought to pin you down to that sandbar until high tide! Captain--” He turned to Flint. “I believe a trial is in order. We can't let this one slide. Someone could have died.”

Murmurs of agreement spread about, faces grim as they looked between me and my neglectful companions. And to think, only a few hours ago, we were at the tavern eating and laughing together. Now, I could hardly look at them.

From my left side, I felt a persistent tingle on my cheek and turned my head to look: Captain Flint stared at me from across the crowd, examining me.

I don't know what he divinated from my eyes, but after almost a minute, he broke contact and addressed the crew. “I agree. Let's take a moment to collect ourselves and get the story straight. I will hear the account of all parties involved... And then we go to votes.”

The crowd split up. Muldoon, Logan and the others were taken away and made to sit on the sand under some shade, with a ring of men standing guard over them. Mr. de Goot and Jean helped me to my feet and took me to the aft of the Walrus, where they sat me on a rustic wooden chair. They insisted I had some more water and biscuits, to recover my strength; they tasted like sawdust on my tongue and felt just as rough. One month in this crew and this would be the second trial I was at the center of. How unlucky could I be?

Not long after, Captain Flint and Mr. Gates came to me to hear my version of the story. I told them everything, swearing to the truth of my words. After they left to go talk to the others, I bent over my knees and held my head in my hands, worried about what was going to happen to them. No matter how I had wanted to shove my fist into all their kissers, I didn't want them to get too hurt. Or worse, expelled from of the crew.

Yet, with a sinking feeling, I was certain that was the most likely outcome.

Out of nowhere, a heavy hand clamped on my shoulder, nearly startling me out of my seat.

“Sorry,” Billy said in response to my gasp. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's fine,” I sighed while massaging my heart. “Guess I'm still a little out of it.”

He crouched in front of me, same as before. With a quiet snort, I realized that, even low to the ground and while I was on a chair, he still towered over me.

“Something funny?” He asked.

“No, it's just...” I tilted my head back just a smidge to look him in the eyes. “I was thinking that even when you're crouched, I still have to look up to you. How did you get to be so damn tall?”

A shy, adorable smile graced his features and he brought a hand up to scratch at his nose. I decided then and there that a bashful Billy Bones was my favorite Billy Bones.

“Would you be surprised to find out I was once tiny and skinny?”

“Noooo... Really?” I arched my eyebrows at him, trying to imagine him as a short, lanky child (I couldn't).

He nodded a couple of times whilst that smile widened into a relaxed chuckle. “Really. Until my sixteenth birthday, I was a spit of a kid. Then I had a growth spurt and just... Never stopped stretching.”

I pointed to his broad shoulders and large arms. “Upwards or sideways,” I jested.

“No, that part came from hard work and dedication. It takes effort to get this big, y'know?”

I laughed, delighted that he played along instead of chiding me. He was still the boatswain, after all, and I a subordinate. My adoration from earlier returned in full force, especially as I recalled how he saved me from falling to my death. I was indebted to him for that and had no way to repay him. Or so I thought, then.

Sighing through my nose, I chipped off the flakes of dried blood from my forearms. “Thank you, by the way... For saving my life. It was very brave of you.”

He half shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “What else was I supposed to do? Let you fall?”

Now it was my turn to be bashful. I let my head turn to the side so he wouldn't see my flushed cheeks or my big, stupid smile.

“Listen, uh...” A pause, during which his tone shifted to something more serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what's going to happen next. With the trial.”

My smile crumbled right out of my face. Slowly, reluctantly, I faced toward him once more. He wasn't smiling anymore, either. In fact, there was something fierce behind that calm demeanor, something violent – a caged animal fighting to be let out.

“Things aren't looking good for those dumbasses. You and I both know that expulsion from this crew is going to be the inevitable result in all this mess. However...”

He let out a heavy breath and rubbed his palms together. “As angry as I am about the whole thing, that's not what I want. Apart from my friends, those men are good sailors and it would be a waste to have a handful of our best leave suddenly, all at once.”

He scrutinized my features carefully. When he saw the way I pouted, gaze on the sand at my feet, his sneer softened up. “And I get the feeling that's not what you want, either.”

I shook my head side to side. “No. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm pissed beyond belief, and it's gonna take me a long while to forget about all this. But I don't want to see them banished. They're my friends, too, and they didn't mean any harm by it. They were just... inconsiderate.”

“And as you know, there are some in the crew that would much rather see you gone than they,” he pointed out.

Like Mr. Singleton. Mr. Turk. Cutthroat Fred... Indeed, it was no secret that a not-insignificant number of the men didn't like me, never had and probably never would. They only tolerated me because Mr. Gates willed it so, and Flint ordered it so, and Billy and a handful of others enforced it so.

“I think--” He continued. “You would go a long way to gain their favor if you were to publicly declare you held no grudge against them for their antics and voted in favor of them staying.”

I leaned back on the chair and searched his eyes. “Do you think it would be the right thing to do?”

He made a face of 'I dunno'. “Doesn't matter what I think. I'm just laying out the cards for you. You're the wronged party here. What do you think?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a bit, torn between resentment and love for my friends. I would forgive them... One day. And they would have to remain a part of the crew in order for that to happen.

“I think it would be for the best, for everyone. Including me. I want to forgive them. I want them to have a chance to earn that forgiveness.”

A half smile crossed his lips. He reached out to give my forearm an encouraging touch. “Very well, then. I'll let the captain know you're ready.” He stood to his feet and walked away.

Where his hand had been, I suddenly felt very cold. I liked his touch. It reminded me of the feeling of honey on my fingertips, silky and supple, or how the waves licked at my ankles, like earlier that afternoon. Inadvertently, the thought that he was certain to give great hugs tugged at my gut.

Then it struck me that, in a way, I already knew how good his hugs were. He had held me against him so strongly, up on the mast, yet so carefully, at the same time. His hand was so gentle as it stroked my hair, and his skin...

God, his skin. Smooth, sun-kissed, feverish. He smelled of sweat, but not the kind that burned your nose and made you want to hurl. It had the kind of natural musk that was strong, but not unpleasant, a smell so delicious it made my mouth water. If I could of have it lathered on my own skin, I would bask in that scent for eternity.

Alarmed, I realized that my chest was hurting from the way my heart pounded. With wide eyes, I covered my mouth with my fingertips, horrified at my own carnal thoughts. The same thing had happened up there, when I'd had him between my thighs and...

Heat crept up my neck and cheeks and forehead, until even my hair roots seemed to be catching fire. Oh, this wasn't good. This was not good, at all.

*** The sky was beginning to turn a lovely shade of pink when the crew gathered around in a wide circle on the beach.

Mr. Gates, my friends and myself were at the center of it. Captain Flint stood to the side, on the front row of this circus. Though he presided over the crew, he was also an equal among them, for during trials, the captain's vote held no more sway than the lowest ranking deckhand.

Torches had been lit as the cloak of night crept on us, so we wouldn't be stumbling in the dark by the time this was finished. I pulled Jean's borrowed frock tighter around my shoulders to fight off the cold that gained strength as the day died out. "So," Gates began. "We all know why we're here, but to recapitulate, I will give you a quick account of the events that led to this trial.”

He cleared his throat. “This afternoon, at four bells, the defendants before you were selected to form the first shift chucking and tarring the hull of the Walrus. Sometime after six bells, they saw fit to leave their colleague, Miss Constance Tilly, alone on the mast while they went to get food and drinks, as a poorly conceived method of hazing. Under the sweltering heat, she feared for her life and saw fit to try to come down by herself. As a result, she slipped and hung several hundred yards in the air. As she does not yet possess the brute strength spending months at see bestows upon a sailor, and after the better part of the day working practically without reprieve, she was unable to climb up to safety. She called out for help and our boatswain, Billy Bones, courageously went up the shrouds to rescue her. It is solely thanks to him that Constance is still drawing breath." I had to smile hearing the little note of pride in that last sentence. Billy tried not to show, but his chest puffed visibly as he held himself tall, with a small smile on his lips. "As such, we are now here gathered to vote on whether to oust the defendants from this crew, definitely and irreversibly."

Gates addressed my companions, who each held a mixture of regret, fear and trepidation on their faces. "Gentlemen, this is your opportunity to defend your honor before your shipmates. Who among you do you choose to represent you?" Mr. Folsom came forward. "I will represent our party."

"Very well." Gates stepped back with an outstretched hand, inviting him to take the stage. Folsom started by taking in the silent men, eyes lingering on those I knew were personal friends of his. He spoke to them first.

"What we did today was unforgivable. Of this, we are aware. By our own recklessness, Constance could have lost her life over a moronic prank. She might be new in our midst, but she has proven her worth time and time again. She's a quick study, hard-working and serviceable. Never denied lending a hand and never complains. Well... for the most part. But whom among us never complained at least once?"

A wave of uneasy laughter rolled through the men. Even I had to smile, a little.

Next, he turned his attention to me and I saw the furrow of his brow deepen in honest guilt. "You may have joined less than a month ago, but we already consider you a part of the crew. That makes you a sister to us, which should cover us all the more in shame. Please know we bore no ill will toward you. We never meant to put you in real danger, yet that's exactly what we did. Can you find it in your heart to forgive us?" Though he spoke for everyone to hear, and this apology was just as much for their benefit as it was for mine, somehow I knew it was directed first and foremost to me. I searched the faces of the other accused and saw nothing but regret and the need for absolution.

If it had been Logan, I might have forgiven them before bed. If it had been Muldoon, I would have made good on my thread by giving him an extra bruise on the jaw to pair up with Billy's and forgiven them the following day.

But it was Folsom who apologized for them all. Folsom, with whom I'd had my first altercation and for whom I'd developed deep respect. I had learned so much from him, once we'd found some common ground.

He looked so humble before me, before us, as he begged forgiveness. "Constance?" Mr. Gates called. "Would you care to say a few words before we vote?"

I tilted my chin up and sighed through my nose. Without taking my eyes away from Mr. Folsom, I declared: "I won't lie and say I'm not angry with you. I am. You shouldn't have left me alone up there. Today... was the scariest day of my life and I won't forget that so soon." Folsom's fists balled up. Logan, Muldoon and the others gawked at me, fearful, no doubt already counting the minutes before they found themselves out of a job. I was making them squirm, sure, but could I be blamed? Honestly? Then I glanced at Billy, who observed me with a knowing smirk. He nodded ever so slightly in approval. I returned my attention to Folsom and the others.

"Even so, I believe your sentiment of guilt. And yes, I know you had no bad intentions when you left. This doesn't change how I feel about you all, and I will still call you friends and brothers whole-heartedly. I forgive you. All of you."

Folsom and the others deflated in relief. I could have sworn I saw Logan wipe a runaway tear, though I would never tell my suspicions to his face.

Around us, the men hummed their approval. I even felt a few hands touch my shoulder and back, accompanied by soft comments like a wise attitude and you're a noble woman, Constance.

Mr. Gates stepped forward to address us all one more time. "If no one else has anything to add?"

No one professed themselves.

"Then let us go to votes. All those in favor of letting the defendants remain with us?" Several hands shot up. Most of them, from what I could tell. They included Billy, Flint, de Groot, Jean, Gates and my own.

My shoulders slumped and my heart was at peace. They were staying. "All those against?" Hardly a dozen hands went up.

"That settles it then." Mr. Gates clapped. "Gentlemen, you may stay with us for a while longer." There was a tentative applause for the close call. But, it became apparent I wasn't the only wronged party here, after all. A betrayal of your crew, no matter how slight, was a serious offense. They were going to have to work hard to make up for this incident.

"Now, as for punishment," Mr. Gates proclaimed once the clapping stopped. "The captain, the boatswain and I spoke on this matter and have reached a consensus: for abandoning your stations and putting your companion in peril from your negligence, you will be working double shift cleaning the hull and you will be scrubbing the decks while we're at sea for the next three months."

The group groaned and grimaced (Muldoon buried his face in his hands in despair), but no one dared contesting. They knew they deserved worse, so this, they would endure. "With that said, I declare this trial officially concluded. Thank you all for your participation. Now, how about some roast pork on the spit for supper, to end the day on a high note?"

We all whooped in agreement, energized by the thought of some food and rum. But, while the others dispersed, I stayed where I was.

My regretful friends slumped forward . Truth be told, after Mr. Folsom's speech, plus the thought of their imminent expulsion, my anger had somewhat cooled down. I was ready to put this whole ordeal behind us. Muldoon was the first to speak, eyes as watery as a puppy's. "Are you all right?"

"I am," I muttered. "Billy got to me before I could fall. I wasn't hurt." "We're really sorry, Constance." Logan rubbed a hand down his neck, incapable of meeting my gaze. "We never meant to put you in harm's way, honest." "I know, Logan." I offered him a compassionate frown. "Sorry you won't get to see Charlotte much." He shrugged with an unconcerned grin. "She'll still be there waiting for me when we're done. It's fine." "Besides, we were asking for it, weren't we?" Muldoon added, to which the rest agreed. "And Constance? Thanks for vouching for us. We owe you a lot for this." "Damn right, you do. But for now..." I smirked and punched his arm. Hard. "Let's get some booze and dinner. I'm starving." They bellowed in agreement, though Muldoon was massaging the spot where I'd hit him. I did say I would get him one day, didn't I?

As a unit, we marched up the dark beach towards the fire pit where our food would cook. One day, I would collect this favor, with interests. But not tonight. Not tonight.

[mariequitecontrary]

2024 TF Reverse Mini Bang Memories Part 2

Link to Part 1! I am sharing just a few of my favorite memories of the @tf-bigbang

Let's keep going!

DREAM TEAM 66

The moment I saw @spashahoney's sketch, Team 66 LAUNCHED to the top of my list. I am so lucky to have been matched up with her as my partner!! She is funny, creative, encouraging, and I loved when we fed off each other's energy! I am truly proud of what we created and sincerely hope we continue to work together in the future <3

It was very fun knowing I wanted to partner with her even when I wasn't allowed to say XD

We were a dream team from the start and I'm not afraid to brag about this fact.

We were so chaotic and I had so much fun bouncing around with her talking transformers and about her concept for our collab!

I was also so, so very wrong about how much I planned to write for this fic XD

Either way, we adored what we both had made!

It's also SO TERRIFYING to even think about someone watching you while you write a fic based off of their art XD

It was VERY FUN and I adore my artist <3

Do I completely blame her for my new Optimus/Rodimus obsession? YES.

#BOBACULT

I bought...so much more boba than I usually do because of these people XD Boba Bthursdays and Bubble Tea Fridays birthed an ongoing boba addiction in me that I'm not trying all that hard to fix XD

RP

Getting back into rping! Most importantly starting to rp transformers! I've always been a big fan of collaborative storytelling through roleplay, so am always DELIGHTED to find rp partners to play with <3

I had to pause because of vacations and the bang deadline, but I can't wait to get back into it!

500 Word Writer Awards

We were challenged to write 500 words for a secret prize and suddenly every last block I felt that was preventing me from starting to write DISAPPEARED. I wrote 632 words and suddenly felt like I could do this🙂

I'm very proud of this reward and am keeping it forever.

I'm Easily Baited with Prizes

That was the start of something I kinda knew but FULLY REALIZED over the past few months...that I am so, so, so easily motivated with prizes. It takes minimal effort on the prize giver's part. All it has to be is something you took the time to provide for me and say its mine and suddenly I DRIVEN to complete whatever task is set before me XD

It's pathetic really. But also here are my prizes look at them I worked so hard for them be proud of meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

DO YOU LIKE THEM I WORKED SO HARD FOR THEM! *bright eyes and wags tail*

Friends <3

I made so many friends! Friends to brainstorm with, an ao3 moot, a friend I've entered into a blood pact with, friends I've written together with a sprinting bot, friends to rp with, friends to talk about space robots with and anything under the sun :) I cherish them all so so so much <3

The Great Cicada War

But my friends bullied me :( They witnessed me dealing with probably the most harrowing part of the year...cicada season.

Time of My Life

I hadn't had this much fun in an online community...in a while. The past four months contain precious memories and friendships made that I'll treasure forever.

To the mods, thank you so much for hosting such a fun event! You all put so much work into making this special for us and I couldn't be more grateful to have been a part of this.

To all my new friends, thank you for welcoming me into this space and making me feel like I'm a real part of this fandom! Thank you for being kind and encouraging me when I was down and struggling, and thank you for uplifting and cheering me on when I was proud and succeeding. May inspiration always come easily to you.

Thanks for all the memories! I'll see you soon :)

[t-thedigitaldiary]

Sincerely yours,

(part 1)

author’s note: heey,everyone.Basically this the first fiction i’ve ever written and I’m pretty new to this platform so I’m not entirely familiar with how to make my posts pretty but I truly hope you like it :).Also,for the hashtags,this work of fiction is not at all related to Ellie Williams (although the aesthetic is inspired by her in a.u fictions) nor the tlou world.I just really wanna be a part of the tlou fandom in here,since i will be posting related artworks later on and bc im new,i thought this was a nice way to start :).Last but not least,this piece is extremely personal to me and truly reflects my feelings.Anyways,hope you enjoy!

Warnings!: poor mental health condition (mention of depression multiple times & trauma,not in great detail though),violence (basically someone being hit with a water bottle lol)

Sunday afternoon. Ugh, you hated Sunday afternoons. Not because, like most people, you hated the upcoming Mondays, but because it was dull. Extremely dull, empty. You are not sure if the reason behind this emptiness is depression, but you have accepted it either way. Now that you think about it, you hated almost every afternoon. For the same exact reason. Even though you used to love the darkness of the night, something about the sun setting has now become extremely unsettling to you. ‘’Vitamin D my ass! ‘’, you thought. It wasn’t always like this, though. Something about the last six months has turned you into a living dead, a zombie if you may! No, actually, ‘’something’’ is a very unfair description of the cause. More like ‘’a very specific experience’’ has turned you. You had lost all your livelihood, all your appetite about almost everything and, suddenly, Sunday afternoons were not just dull, they were depressing. Just like every other afternoon of the week, just like every other time of the day. Every day. For the last six months. Wow. You thought about change a thousand times before. You prayed and you prayed that things were going to get better. You desperately asked the universe for a sign. A sign that you were going to survive this and live a happy life. No sign, no change ever came. Except for this peculiar Sunday afternoon. (Not so dull now, is it?)

You were laying on your back on top of your unmade bed. Blank white tee, black shorts, the same ones you’ve been wearing for over a week now (depression really gets the best of you, huh?). You were sitting with open legs and open arms. Your right, sock covered foot was bent and was softly brushing over your bare left knee. You had your hands thrown on top of your head. Someone that had just entered the room would’ve thought that this is the position of someone highly frustrated. Little would they know. In your mentally uncomfortable but physically soothing position you found yourself begging again. ‘’Please, universe, just one sign is all I’m asking for!” . You truly were desperate. You hated the life you were living, a life created in fucked up ways. All you needed was a sign. A sign of change, a sign that things were going to get better.

*knock knock*

The loud knocks on your bedroom door brought you back to Earth. What the fuck?! You were home alone for the entire weekend and you specifically remember locking the front door (you even double checked!!!). Now, you were not just surprised, you were also terrified. Whoever was knocking on your door definitely was not here for a good reason..

*knock knock knock*

You had no more time to think about it, you had to act. You went full-on survival mode. Even though you didn’t like the life you were living, you still wanted to live. You believed in that change. You collected every drop of bravery you had in you, grabbed your water bottle, the biggest object near and prepared for whatever it was behind that door. The knocks became louder and louder. You were sure now that within a bunch of seconds you were about to fight for your life. You shut your eyes close and took one last big breath. One last big breath befor-

The last loud noise heard was not from the knocking. It was the sound that your bottle and someone’s head made after they collided together. Oh, and the one of the body hitting the floor.

​

[merp-blerp]

A Gaylor Interpretation of "Message in a Bottle"

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

So similarly to my "Champagne Problems" analysis, this is just to exercise my brain and see songs differently than what's expected. It's likely a stretch, and that's okay.

"I know that you like me // And it's kinda frightenin' // Standing here waitin', waitin'"

So... it's basically become my thing to see a lot of romanticly coded songs as about Tay's fanbase, and that doesn't change here, hehe! Taylor knows that her fans like her. They were in love with her when she wrote this song back in the early 2010s and that has only grown over time. For a formerly bullied kid, seeing people, most of whom are the same age as you and your old bullies, support you must've been exciting and fulfilling for a young Taylor, but also frightening because it's new and you want to keep things that way. Even using the words "you like me" makes it feel like a little kid talking about their peers taking an interest in them. I know for me on a personal level, as a kid getting compliments from kids my age, especially bullies oddly enough, would make me really happy and desperate to keep pleasing them so rejection could never come to bite. It's a strange cycle to try to appeal to people who will never accept you, and I think Taylor's music over time has explored how tiring that cycle can be.

But what is she waiting for? It could be coming out. I personally think Taylor has known she’s not straight since at least her debut era, likely before that. I also mentioned in my "But Daddy I Love Him" analysis that Taylor has been het-washing her songs since the beginning, but also flagging in her songs little by little for just as long. In the early days, it was subtle, and took some thinking to see it. For example, "I hope you think that little black dress... and my old faded blue jeans." If Taylor's in the blue jeans, who is in "that" dress, which she notably separates from being her's by using the word "that?" Likely not a boy, unless he was very progressive in 2006.

So she's waiting for the courage or the opportunity she needs to stop being in the closet. Or she's waiting for the fans to receive the messages we'll talk more about in a bit.

"And I became hypnotized // By freckles and bright eyes // Tongue tied"

In this particular reading, this is the only line I think is about a lover and not fans. Taylor has romantic feelings for this "freckles and bright eyes" person she describes it seems. Naturally, this being a gaylor reading, I see this lover as a woman. Although, it would be interesting to see this "freckles" person as a beard, hypnotizing her in the sense that it's making her do things she wouldn't naturally do, leaving her "tongue-tied" or unable to speak her truth. I just don't know of a beard she's had that has freckles, but I could just be forgetting someone. Noticeably, she doesn't say something along the lines of "By your freckles" or anything, so it doesn't seem like this song is overall addressed to this person. The you/your are the fans in this reading.

"But now // You're so far away and I'm down // Feelin' like a face in the crowd // I'm reachin' for you, terrified"

Maybe because of the freckled person's role in Taylor's life, Taylor now feels distant from the fandom she has treated like friends. They feel far away from her. Maybe because she can't share her true self with them they feel like strangers she can't connect to like she did before the lover or bearding entered her life.

"I'm down" could refer to mood, as in feeling down or sad. And as dark as it sounds, I can't help but also suggest that "down" could also mean "in hell", a place a lot of us queers get told we're going. If you feel "like a face in the crowd" you feel unimportant or not famous. If Taylor connected with her fans like a friendship, she wouldn't feel like the famous person she is, but just another person in the arenas/stadiums she performs in. Since she's feeling distant from her fans due to her sexuality, she decides to reach for them and connect with them through her hairpins in her songs. But she's scared while she begins to flag more. Why?

"'Cause you could be the one that I love // I could be the one that you dream of // Message in a bottle is all I can do // Standin' here, hopin' it gets to you // You could be the one that I keep, and I // Could be the reason you can't sleep at night // Message in a bottle is all I can do // Standin' here, hopin' it gets to you"

She's scared because she loves her fans and is going into uncharted waters with her hairpins. Taylor is known for loving her fans. And for her fans at this time, she is their dream celebrity with a good rep and reliability. If her fans see her for her, she could be even more connected to them. She could love them even more for seeing her and get to keep them by her side forever. And her fans could keep her too, not sleeping because they stay up pouring through her work which is exactly what I'm doing right now drafting this—it's almost 4:00AM—please help. If they understood her signaling and accepted her as a queer person, they could continue to be happy.

After the Red era and into 1989, Taylor's flagging became much louder, with more thoroughly queer-coded moments like "WTNY", her "Riptide" cover, no beard, the sprinkle of rainbow outfits and androgynous clothing here and there, saying "us" when talking about the queer community at the GLAAD awards, etc. I think this was all intentional on her end, ramping up the messages to get to the fans. This song is about her actively deciding to be louder in the hopes that she'll be seen and understood.

A message in a bottle is covertly wrapped up, locked away in glass, characteristically, and is never verifiably going to get to where it's intended in real life. The glass bottle is like the glass closet; the message is clear as day inside and just needs to be unwrapped. In fairytales, bottled notes always seem to get to the person they are meant to by sheer luck. One example of this trope that comes to mind for me is Pippi in the South Seas. It just happens and the reader shouldn't overthink how. But in real life that's not nearly as likely. But Taylor seems very optimistic in this song, hopeful the message gets to the fans. In some stories, the unlikelihood of bottled notes getting exactly where you want is a part of the point. To send a message in a bottle is to be very desperate. A character might be marooned on an island alone and sending out a bottled note might be their last shred of hope to be saved. The message in a bottle "is all I can do" because Taylor is in a situation where she can't come out but she can't bear to be unseen any longer. Situations like this are what flagging is for. The glass bottle, the glass closet, is her last hope of rekindling her relationship with fans and feeling okay again.

"These days I'm restless // Work days are endless // Look how you've made me, made me // But time moves faster // Replaying your laughter // Disaster"

Taylor's always been busy. The subject of the song making her restless with her endless work days seems very about fans, as I don't get how a lover would make her work days endless, but entertaining fans definitely could, with interviews, easter egg planting, songwriting, touring, etc. But being busy keeps the time moving. Your day goes by faster when you're busy. The joy or laughter from her fans makes her want to continue to have the work ethic she has to keep them happy. It's disastrous because she's scared of losing them. She knows she might not be able to be the "Twin from your dreams" they want forever if she comes out. But the chorus remains positive as she's optimistic they will understand.

"How is it in London? (London) // Where are you while I'm wonderin' (wonderin') // If I'll ever see you again?"

So TTPD's "So Long London" has been interpreted as being about Taylor saying goodbye to bearding, as many of her most intense beardings were with British guys. Here, Taylor wonders what this form of bearding is like. Prior to dating the British boys, Taylor's beardings only lasted for a few months, so fairly light one could say. A few of the British boys were the firsts to last for over a year. So here she asks how will it be to fake-date this intensely? And also, where will the fans be emotionally during these beardings as she wonders if she'll ever be as connected to them as she once was? Will they get her messages, even if they are far away, marooned in London? Will their eyes meet her's through the glass? Will they see her and stay?

Under this lens, this song is pretty sad in hindsight, knowing what we know now. A lot of fans actively choose not to acknowledge Taylor's flagging out of social pressure and guilt others into doing the same. Her messages weren't seen by all. If songs like "But Daddy I Love Him", "Dear Reader", and "You're Losing Me" are anything to go off of, Taylor's connection with certain kinds of fans seems farther away than ever as she taunts them, acknowledges their stranger status, and forsakes them. Lover seemed to hold the last shred of hope she had for them to see her with "The Archer". They didn't stay, they ran from her. Their faithless love was all she received. They weren't the ones to be her evergreen group of friends, but they'll find someone besides her to be their superstar and it'll be alright now that daylight might be near. How many TS puns can I fit in here?

I feel bad for ending this on a pretty downer note despite the happy feel of the song and the expectations that come with that, so here is a gif of a cute dog taking a bath to hopefully help you feel better:

And this gif of Tay in the orange and pink surprise song dress as an extra treat because it makes me so unbelievably happy!

Bye bye! 🧡🩷

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 19: Twi, Time, Shade (Chain) - “Please Don’t”

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Consequences on not telling Time the full truth was lurking in the woods between Twilight and Time's eras. Pulling Time to the side to tell him of the Hero's Shade, there's an attack on camp, forcing the secret to come out in the worst way.

CW: blood, injury, language, self sacrifice

Apparently I have a pattern of hurting Twilight in some kind of way when Shade enters a story.

“Guys, wake up. Anyone know this place?” Legend asked as he and Wild sat around the cooking pot. They had just shifted while most of them were asleep.

Twilight looked around curiously. “It feels familiar, but too young to be my era. Time, is it yours?”

The Old Man took a deep breath in, scanned across the new forest, then let out his breath. “Feels too old to be mine. Could be in a between era.”

Twilight blanched at that. That could be the worst thing to happen since that meant Sh- Nope, he was over thinking it too quickly. “Did either of you scout out around here?”

Wild kept stirring, but pointed in a direction. “Yeah, there’s a road about half a mile from here. Seemed to be well used, but it was too early in the morning for people to be using it.”

“I’ll go see if anyone is there now.” Twi tried to stand to make his way to the road, but Wild swiftly pointed his ladle at him with a fierce look.

“After. Breakfast.” The steely look had Twilight consciously sitting back down like a good boy. He was not going to piss off his Cub when it came to everyone being fed. A few others snickered and giggled and all got the same look from Wild. He really could be terrifying.

Wild made a feast of a meal for them: Crepes, oatmeal, omelets, toast, honey and nut fruit and of course an assortment of drinks that everyone liked. Even with the great smelling food in hand and a hungry stomach, Twilight was having issues forcing the food down.

Thankfully his own mentor had mercy on him. “Come on, you're too antsy and it’s killing me to see.”

The unknown bad choice of words could have made Twilight run for the trees to bring everything back up, but then he wouldn’t have been allowed to leave camp. Instead he put on his normal clothes, sword on his back, then waited as Time finished putting on his armor.

The walk was silent outside of Twilight’s heart pounding in his ears and the birds singing in the trees. That was until Time broke the silence. “Alright Pup, what has you so worked up?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you are lying and hiding something. You get the same crease in your forehead Malon does. Spill it.” Time grabbed the young man’s shoulder, bringing them both to a stop.

Twilight took several long breaths to calm himself and to figure out the words. “This is going to be hard to tell you, specifically you.”

“Harder than telling me that we are related, can shapeshift and that I somehow trained you in my future?” Time gave a half amused smile.

Oh if he only knew… “Yes.”

Time straightened up, full attention on his descendant. “I’m listening.”

“I didn’t tell you the full truth of how you ended up training me in the future.” Why did he have to do this now?! “You didn’t time travel to my era to train me.”

“How can that be if we are an unknown hundred of years apart?”

“Just… When we met, you weren’t exactly al-” A howl nearby stopped him short. His eyes blew wide.

Time grabbed the hilt of his sword. “Wolfos?”

“N-no” Twilight spun around. “I know that howl.”

Paws making contact with the forest floor could be heard getting closer, making Twi’s heart nearly leap from his chest. A flash of gold had Twilight racing for it.

“Pup, wait!” Time was no spring cucco, but he kept up with the younger.

Twilight zig-zagged through the trees, catching the briefest amount of gold and white. “Shade, wait up!” he hollered, but the wolf stayed out of sight. When he no longer could see where he went nor could hear him, Twilight stopped.

Time stopped with him, slightly panting. “Friend of yours?”

A yip had both men’s heads turning. Standing a few feet away was the wolf in all his golden glory. Twilight knelt down move eye level, “Are you going to just sit there or are you going to get over here and say hi?”

A few bounding steps later and the wolf had his front legs draped over Twilight’s shoulder. Shade rubbed his head against the other’s neck, giving slight whines as if saying he missed him. There were a few licks to Twilight’s hairline before the Hylian stood up, wolf still hanging on his shoulders, showing that he was taller than the younger.

“Pup, you are aware that he is a spirit, right?” Time asked, eyeing the giant wolf carefully.

“I know, but how do you know?”

Time opened his white eye, pointing to the marked side of his face. “He sees all.”

That gave a chill down Twilight’s spine. “Did he tell you who Shade is?”

“No, he only gave an all too delighted laugh.”

Shade’s ears perked up and did a slight swivel. A low baritone grumble came from his chest. He pushed off of Twilight’s shoulder and seemed to be tuning into whatever he was hearing. Twilight closed his eyes, filtering out the noises around him to get a longer range.

There was metal clashing, hollering and the screeching of monsters. “Ambush… Camp!” Twilight and Shade bolted in the direction of the others, Time right behind them.

When the two heroes broke into the clearing of camp they saw seven heroes all armed and surrounded by a mix of different era’s monsters. Giving a gruff-snarl, Shade led the attack as he literally dove into the horde. The action had Legend screaming like a kit and Twilight was not going to let that slip away later.

The camp turned into a bloodbath as more and more monsters swarmed in from all sides. It wasn’t an impossible fight, just one that they weren’t prepared for since most of them were still in their night clothes.

Twilight made sure to keep an ear out for everyone, especially Shade. Not everyone would right away think ‘Friend’ when seeing a red eyed wolf covered in blood. He knew first hand how badly that could go, seeing that he went through that exact thing after his adventure, forgetting that Ordon hadn’t been told yet of his ability to shift and they already had nightmares from when the children were taken and a wolf had been stalking around that time. That wolf had been him, but he was there to protect, not harm. They didn’t know and he paid the price. He would never blame them either.

Somehow in the fray Twilight became overrun with monsters and was brought down to his knees. His sword was ripped from him while at the same time a heavy foot flattened him onto his back. One of Wild’s silver Moblins was pressing its weight against his chest, club high in the air. The monster roared and Twilight matched it, but not out of fear. Twilight roared in defiance.

He didn’t know how it happened, but he knew why and when it happened. The fight unexpectedly turned, drawing the attention of the monsters to someone else. That someone else was Shade, but the wolf was now the skeleton Twilight had been trained by.

He stood tall as a fully armored in gold metal, sword drawn, single red eyed stalfos. To the rest of them, this would seem to be a Boss Stal that happened to be out in the open. He locked his gaze on his descendant and made his way over in large strides, ignoring fights around him.

As Warriors went to be the first to strike, Twilight hollered, “Wait!”

Shade caught the blade’s edge with his metal covered hand. He didn’t strike back, only shoved the captain away. Time was at his backside, sword already slashing at his side and it forced him towards Warriors who tried again to land a hit. With the power behind Time’s swings, Shade had to pull his weapon, but to defend himself.

It was irrational for Twilight to think something could happen to the Hero’s Shade as if he could be more dead, but he was not going to risk the chance of talking to his mentor again after everything. He didn’t think he could handle seeing metal and bones fall to the dirt. And what would happen if they did? What would happen to Twilight as a baby since Shade was the one to care for him in the woods before leaving him at Rusl and Uli’s door? Would Twilight still win against Ganondorf?

Would Twilight fail the legacy Time started? He would damn himself, but not the legacy created by a child who held the weight of the world on his shoulder yet still died with regret. He could never.

Twilight’s mind screamed for his original mentor. ‘No! Please, don’t! How can you not see who he is?!’

With everything happening so quickly, the Moblin holding Twilight down had looked away, foot relaxing some on his chest. The monster was still big, but Twilight just twisted his body enough to get a shot with his foot to the things jambags. It worked to his surprise. Sword in hand, the Moblin’s head fell to the ground.

Twilight looked up at Shade who was deflecting Warriors and Sky while Time readied another deadly blow. With his mind still irrationally thinking, Twilight ran to stop the fight, but it was about to be too late. He wasn’t going to make it.

Time had his Biggoron Sword thrusting forward and Twilight knew the other was too far into the motion to stop, so he did the one thing he could think. He just prayed that Time would forgive him if he survived.

“Shade!!” Twilight was one more step away.

The Stal turned around to his name being called, his eye locked onto Twi and the sword headed now for both of them. It was all in slow motion.

The Ordonian had no fear as he jumped that last step, flinging his arms over the golden armored skeleton into the resemblance of a hug. At the same moment Time’s blade was run through Twilight’s back, coming out his chest and imbedding into Shade’s chest plate. Twilight sucked in a stuttered and pained breath, sagging into the boney arms that wrapped around him as they both fell.

The sword jossiled as they landed, Twi on top, and he screamed at pain that slowly subsided as he went into shock. He looked between them, grabbed the blade and stood, removing the tip from the other. Twilight swayed on his feet as the battle continued around him, hands now bleeding from the sharp edge he was still holding onto and now pushing out of himself until he heard it clatter onto the ground behind him. Straightening up, he mouthed an apology to his former mentor before he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, going to his side.

Shade was up and holding Twilight in his arms before he hit the ground again. He looked around at his old companions seeing that there were many of them injured and Hyrule was going to be needed for those. He only had one choice and he wouldn’t fail or so help him he would fight every damn goddess and god there was! He laid the boy on the ground, trying to ignore the sounds of him sucking in breath and blood into his lungs. Shade placed his hands on the ground drawing in only as much magic as he needed. The grass around him shriveled and died as they gave their essence to him. Muscle and flesh formed under his armor though his clothes stayed tattered and torn.

Feeling his body reformed, he removed his broken helmet, throwing it to the side. He didn’t care how many enemies were left or who was now jaw dropped at the sight of who he was, what he had become. He didn’t care about the shock his younger self was still in. All he cared about was his Pup. Tearing the boy's tunics open more to access the wound, Shade saw how dire the situation really was and honestly Twilight should have already died from it.

With his death, Shade didn’t just become the Hero's Shade. The Lost Woods had granted him the power to protect the forest, to give and take life inside of it. That didn’t mean only for the things inside the forest originally, but the people who entered with ill intentions too. He was a deity in a different form than the one inside the mask he carried when alive. He placed a hand over the wound and one on the ground. He pulled magic from every living thing outside of the last few monsters and the boys. The tree’s bark rotted as the leaves turned brown. The grasses grew dry, critters that hid in the ground were consumed as well. It physically hurt him to do this, but he promised to restore it all.

Looking over his shoulder he shouted, “Leave some of the monsters alive! Restrain them!” To give life was to take life. Different shades of green magic swirled over his hand touching the ground, absorbing it, then releasing it into the boy’s chest. Twilight thrashed as the magic worked to stitch him back up.

“Twilight!!”

“Wild no!” Time went to grab Wild by his belt, barely making it to him when Shade’s hand swiped from the ground, upwards. Deep underground roots sprang up, blocking the Cub from getting too close.

“If you get too close, the magic will jump to you and I can’t afford that, not when he is barely alive.”

“What happened?” Hyrule asked.

“I- he-”

“No point in pointing fingers when what is done is done and even more so when it was no one's fault.” Shade snapped.

Twilight stopped moving, stopped breathing, heart nearly a flutter if that. His eyes were open, but no light shined in those blues.

“Come on Pup, take a breath, just one.” Shade closed his eyes and with a yell, pulled an extreme amount of magic from his surroundings. The trees snapped in half, forcing the boys to move closer so as to not be crushed. Shade gave away some of the magic he had used to bring himself back, revealing the wounds he had received during his final battle, including the fatal gash that went all the way across his midsection.

He could feel the wound closing the last bit all the way through and he pushed it slightly over to where his boy’s heart was lying still in his chest. Knowing that he was draining near his limit, he raised his left hand from the ground, raised it up in the air and swiftly slammed the magic overtop of where Twilight’s heart was.

“BREATHE!!”

Twilight’s eyes shot open, back arched off the ground, mouth drawing in gurgled air. Shade turned him to his side where the younger began to heave, globs of blood spewing onto the dirt before being turned back over.

“You irresponsible child! I kept you alive from the age of one up until I could teach you everything I knew, past fighting Ganon and this is the shit you do?! What were you thinking?!” He gave the boy a shake, wanting to knock some sense into him. All he got was a bloody smile. “Why are you smiling?”

“I missed you.”

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Writer of the Month: the-pale-goddess

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @the-pale-goddess! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: the-pale-goddess Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I downloaded Choices in an extremely terrifying moment of my life in late 2019. I was seeing the ads everywhere and thought that this game might serve as a fairly decent distraction. Well, I wasn’t wrong skfjksjfk 

I’m not sure which one was actually the first, but it was either the default TRR or Save The Date promoted at that time. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

My obsession with Open Heart and Ethan Ramsey tied nicely with the release of the second book in 2020. The lockdown allowed me to explore this fictional world further, so I started looking for more content. I found the legendary Denise, aka @justanotherrookie, while lurking on IG. That’s when my long-forgotten Tumblr account came to my mind, and I logged in with the intention of scrolling through the tags to satisfy my EJR thirst.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

Oh, dear…It’s very silly! My skin is extremely pale and I have always been obsessed with music; hence the combo. 

Fun fact: this account is quite old (though still not as old as my tumbroke card; I had like three other accounts before this one), and I was slightly embarrassed to enter a new fandom with my dusty aesthetic blog signed by some ominous name, but decided to go with the flow. Then the-pale-goddess has become my brand, and it was too late for any changes–anyone who has changed their URL knows how problematic blogging is afterward.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

My first fandom post was inspired by the frustrating ending of the softball chapter AND the first hiatus announcement…It didn’t age well. As we all know, Ethan & MC didn’t ‘talk about it.’ What’s more, we had to survive a long OH drought before PB decided to resume the second book. 

Three years later, the very same shitpost is still the most popular Choices post on my silly little blog lol

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

3 years, fanfiction is my pandemic baby! Though I’ve been writing since I was a kid, it was mostly poetry and never in English. But as time passed, I got more occupied with my teenage life and eventually lost motivation to write. That old passion resurfaced several years later, at the beginning of the pandemic. Apart from the obvious need for distraction from the COVID situation, I was frustrated that my English skills were getting rusty, so I decided to dive in. 

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

No surprise here: Open Heart (the first book) and Open Heart 😂 I never tried writing about any other Choices book. 

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

Miami Heat aka my smutty Miami AU. The concept is brilliant, but the execution…Yikes! I often think of rewriting the entire thing because the writing is amateur at best and my inner perfectionist cringes whenever I think of this mini-series.  

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

It all depends on my mood, so here’s a list of my favorites!

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

Cabin Fever - apparently this 69 plotless smut is iconic for some reason? I don’t really get the hype. It has an insane amount of kudos on ao3, my other fics can’t compare lol 

Burnt - Book 1 mutual pining E&T classic and one of my absolute favorites (we’re talking top 3); it could definitely use a little more love!

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

I’ll shock you all and say that I wish I could write fluff for the rest of my life kjgkdgjkdf But since I suck at it, I’d love to be stuck with angst and a dash of smut. 

It’s probably a sad thing to admit, but I feel the most comfortable while writing angst. The realism of pain and the emotions that follow are simply very familiar, and it’s easy for me to conjure up a creative image to match the idea. Besides, there’s so much to explore in the angsty realm: all the flavor, nuance, layers, and symbolism. The possibilities are endless!

Smut doesn’t need an explanation, does it? I live on the thirst street 🤡

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

I do. That’s probably why Open Heart got me sucked right in–OH MC felt very real and relatable, I couldn’t help but see bits of myself in her. Though we share many traits and experiences, Tiffany definitely isn’t an extension of me. I poured my heart and soul into this woman, but she has become her own person and I try to avoid self-projecting into her character unless there’s a clear purpose. 

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Recently, I have been struggling with writing in general lol The internet is ruthless!

My biggest issue is that self-loathing perfectionist who doesn’t let me enjoy the process, nothing seems to be good enough for her, and that attitude dims my motivation and hinders creativity.

On a more technical note, I absolutely suck at describing basic movement. I could churn out a long essay on a character’s internal struggle explaining the most complex emotions or a 4K elaborate smut, but when it comes to finding the right words to portray the simplest action, like walking down the stairs or setting the scene for an early morning conversation at the hospital, I feel lost kdhdkhdkdb 

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Pretty much all of my WIPs are neglected 🤡 But here are the most important projects I’m hoping to finish at some point in the not-too-distant future: 

Home With You AU

Past, Present, Future

My Way Home Is Through You

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

Since fanfic is based on an existing work of fiction, and the core plotlines and characters should be well-known to the readers, I guess it could be a tedious and confusing read for someone who isn’t involved in the fandom. But then I have received comments from people unfamiliar with OH who have stumbled upon my fics and gave them a chance, so maybe I’m wrong lol 

I like to think that I would be okay with sharing my works with someone I know and trust in real life, but let’s be honest: my crippling anxiety would stop me ksjfkjssd However, if I were to pick a fic rec, I’d choose Heaven Upside Down AU because it doesn’t need an extensive OH knowledge. Plus, I’m very proud of this series.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? 

While I try to keep my writing style unique and simply mine, there are three lovely ladies who had a huge impact on my writing journey:

@writinghereandthere (aka an actual genius and my writing role model) was the direct source of inspiration behind my fanfic revelation. I fell in love with Ethan and Mariana, Ana’s beautiful prose, her wit, unparalleled talent, and fantastic characterization. Her writing changed the trajectory of my life. Though she left the fandom long ago, her masterlist is a must-read for everyone, trust me! (Ana, if you’re reading this: I miss you more than words can convey. Sorry for the spam I leave in your inbox every now and then skgjksgjk Hope to hear about your original work soon ❤️)

@starrystarrytrouble & @terrm9 - these two literary geniuses have inspired me to follow my own writing path and develop a distinctive style. Their masterpieces offer poetic, raw emotions, encouraging me to allow myself more creative freedom. I’m in constant awe of their unmatched talent and come back to their works whenever I want to feel things ❤️

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

Can I have all of them, please? 

I would pay all my money to watch a TV series based on my canon OH plotline…I’m not kidding, I even made a bunch of Netflix edits because I need it in my life. On the other hand, my precious AUs would look amazing on the big screen! The most scrumptious one still hasn’t left my head though, so you have to trust me–the cinematic potential is truly there kdgjkdgjk 17- Do you write original fiction? 

I have a few ideas, but they’re so complex I’m stuck on the outlining phase. Mayhaps one day?

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

I’m a certified music freak and a cinephile. I practice destroying male egos on a daily basis. I love photography, niche sports, playing with my dog, lifting people’s moods, random unhinged facts, and ignoring reality, and I have just entered my skincare expert era. 

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

🥰 + ✨ + 💀 

These three emojis perfectly encapsulate who I am as a person, I think: full of love and magic, but also dead inside ksjgksjgks 

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to)

I’d like to thank our lovely admins for giving me this exciting opportunity to ramble about my tiny corner on this hellsite and showcase my word vomit. My heart is full of gratitude! I may not be as active as I used to be, and real life doesn’t allow me to change that, but our fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and I feel very lucky to be a part of this community. Thank you for still putting up with me and supporting my fictional world ❤️❤️❤️