#It actually tastes *better* once it's on a sword

[solradguy]

there's a line between "sol is a scientist" and "sol puts his swords in his mouth" that I think is also "sol will make sure his swords taste good" but I love your specific ideas on what each sword tastes like too

Maybe coagulated Gear blood, sword oil, and gasoline does taste good to Sol

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie -  says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game.  “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

[soupdwelling]

npmd headcanons i’m coming up with as i type this also i’m half asleep

richie used to have the craziest magic school bus hyper fixation for like a solid two years

ruth was the kid who just ate random shit all the time like she’s ask to borrow a pencil and when she gave it back it looked like a family of beavers went to town on it

when grace was asked to draw a family portrait in kindergarten she included god like just hanging out in the air above her and her parents

max treated dodgeball like the olympics throughout all of elementary school and he and kyle and jason were the kids that wore basketball shorts in below freezing weather

steph was forced into piano lessons as a kid and did them for like 8 years and her teacher was like 97 years old and his house smelled like mothballs and dust and there was no lighting even though he had like 15 vintage lamps for some reason she hated it so bad

pete has broken the same leg like 5 times he just has one bone that is so susceptible to breaking for absolutely no reason it just does that

grace used to pretend jesus was her imaginary friend she’d sit in the grass at recess and genuinely just talk to the air next to her like it was jesus. which is kind of sad actually

one of richies earliest experiences of gender envy was the main dude from sword art online i forgot his name

steph was one of those girls who like pretended to be a fairy at recess and had like a rivalry with a different fairy kingdom and one time stacy or something betrayed her for the other fairy kingdom because they had their headquarters at a better tree and steph didn’t forgive her for like two years

ruth is super prone to almost drowning. she knows how to swim in theory but she just loves to get into situations near large bodies of water she’s almost drowned so many times

richie has burnt most of the taste buds off on his tongue because he religiously eats warheads and was once dared by ruth to eat as many at once as possible and nearly threw up

pete is an avid roblox player and would never admit it to anyone

max is weirdly good at taking care of fish. he had a beta fish when he was younger and kept it alive for a solid 5 years he didn’t recover for like a year after it died and that event honestly might have contributed to his current behavior it really hit him hard

[mushroomates]

aragorn headcanons:

sketches in his free time. likes to draw plants he’s come across, writes down descriptions for later. makes maps and draws animals.

cannot draw people, for the life of him.

except for arwen. draws her all the time.

used to very bland food, cooking on the road. prefers unseasoned meat, likes to taste the “natural flavor.”

dislikes nutmeg. cinnamon feind

favorite cookie is oatmeal raisin

has very grimy hands all the time. it’s never ending. even after he washes them, it’s like immediate dirt and grease

current theories are: his sword is just really dirty, his clothes are dirty so when he touches them it makes them dirty, or legolas’s favorite- humans naturally produce grime so the dirt is a natural protective layer above the skin.

in actuality it’s because he knows it grosses (some) elves out and likes to be a menace. specifically targets erestor. legolas will also go great lengths to make sure aragorns hands star far, far away from his hair

knows some card tricks. has great slight of hand specially because of these card tricks. didn’t really do anything with this until pippin discovered this fact and aragorn was forced (politely asked) to preform for the hobbits.

this is, in spite of the fact, that they all know a literal WIZARD (gandalf was salty at abt this “false magic”) and also a ring that turns ppl invisible??

sews. really well, actually. enjoys it but rarely showcases this talent- mostly patches and mends garments weathered by his lifestyle. would one day love to sew a dress for arwen but doesn’t know where to start

masterful at subtly deflecting compliments.

very generous with compliments of his own, but are again, subtle.

years of living with elves has made him quite reserved. yet, he is doing his best to unlearn this behavior. such examples include:

telling arwen he loves her. telling elrond he loves him. telling frodo he loves him. really just telling everyone he loves them. he’s even worse when he’s drunk- he rarely gets even tipsy, but under the influence of a fine wine (or mead, he prefers mead or ciders) he will get very emotional.

hugs!! aragorn loves to give hugs. he really tries his best but they’re a bit awkward at times. he’s getting better.

breaking away from the elven raw-diet and dine seasonings with grilled meat and more lately grilled everything.

he will try his best to cook for himself at any opportunity. it was a jarring shift going from being served gourmet eleven dinners to raw venison

love language is acts of service. he likes to cook for his friends, though he’s not as good as it as sam, who cooked a majority of fellowship meals, so he mainly hunts. then legolas offered his hand and gimli felt challenged by that and at this point boromir just felt excluded-

he just wants to do nice things for the people he cares abt.

arwen has not, for a good chunk of her life, tied her own shoes, peeled her own oranges, made her own tea, or woken up without breakfast being made or ready for her.

just. guys. he really really loves arwen. he will do anything for her and it’s almost obnoxious.

it IS obnoxious if you ask legolas. but this is why aragorn does not go to legolas for romantic advice. (legolas once told aragorn that the next time he ties her shoes he should tie them together so that when she falls he will catch her. this is why arwen stoped flats with ties and opted for anything she could slip on instead.)

will never cheat at any sort of game. he will get extremely upset if you accuse him of such.

he does not believe that counting cards qualifies as cheating. boromir strongly disagrees. he mainly sticks to chess, now

is not allowed to play chess with erestor, (sore loser and prone to trash talk) elrond (matches take to long due to overthinking on both ends and this annoys arwen to no end) and either of the twins (they cheat by working as a team)

would 100% believe in bigfoot.

[perpetuallyobsessed0613]

Fontaine Characters Headcanons/Theories

Some of this info is known cause the siblings info got released but still:

Focalors

Hedonist

Really only in it for entertainment (she’s just….kinda a loser 💀💀💀😭😭😭)

Hot-headed, a little childish, gives Neuvillette a hard time (yeeeah)

Would give up her Gnosis in a heartbeat if it was needed to place a bet

But would fight tooth and nail to get it back if she lost the bet

Hydro Archon (confirmed)

Hydro (confirmed, duh) /Sword (confirmed based on her Statue of the Seven)

Arlecchino

Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers

The Knave

Used to be an actress

Method actress, used methods so outlandish she was kicked from theater

From Fontaine originally (HAH I WAS RIGHT)

Used to be an orphan

Runs an orphanage called House of the Hearth, uses it to recruit Fatui agents (!!!!!)

Those aren't gloves on her hands, she bears a curse or she's been turned into a non human entity

Pyro vision/Sword (leaks confirm she’s a Polearm!)

Cryo Delusion

Neuvillette

Stone cold serious type (he’s literally the sweetest I love him????)

Huge proponent of justice (yup!)

Chief Justice of Fontaine

Puts up with Focalors’s attitude (Pretty much 😭)

Loyal to Archon (or is he)

Descended from mermaids (YALL YALL APPARENTLY HE'S THE HYDRO DRAGON SOVEREIGN???????!!!! WTF OMG)

Waiting for Wriothesley to slip up so he can put him in the slammer once and for all (political rival mayhaps idk)

His name deconstructed means "new city": mayhaps he's awaiting a moment to dethrone the archon and reconstruct Fontaine?

Hydro/Sword (apparently he's a Catalyst user,,,,missed the opportunity to give him a fencing sword as a weapon but whatever ig)

Clordine

Assistant to Neuvillette

Bodyguard (yeeeah)

Prosecutor of Fontiane

Detail oriented, nothing gets past her

Vicious and Merciless (literally kinda the opposite but kinda not)

Eventually goes up against Arlecchino

Navia is her arch nemesis, seems as though Goldilocks is the only one having fun with their game of cat & mouse (the way I was off)

Electro (confirmed) /new weapon: Gun (Sword!)

Lyney

Super protective of Lynette (rightfully so holy shit) 

Loves the chase

Cunning (eeeeh)

Very street smart (I mean kinda yeah)

You can’t tell whether he’s putting up a front, actually enjoys his web of lies, or a little bit of both

This man's gonna get used while thinking he's using the person that's using him at some point (oh Arlecchino I swear to god you better not)

Pyro (confirmed)/Bow (confirmed)

Lynette

Something has happened to her in the past (…..well that was dark)

She’s not temperamental at all (yup)

She doesn’t smile too easily (mhm)

Strongest bond with Lyney (they twins lesgo)

Perceptive and agile (very!)

Lynette escapes her brother’s net of safety to save the traveler at some point (not so likely)

Anemo (confirmed) /Sword (confirmed)

Freminet

Youngest sibling (yup)

introverted/enjoys personal space and quiet (lmfao I knew it)

Love for the water

Renowned Diver of the Court of Fontaine (confirmed)

Silent protector of both his older siblings (idrk)

Highkey that smartest book-wise out of the siblings (again idk)

Cryo (confirmed) /Claymore (confirmed)

Sigewinne

Healer

Alchemist

Provides treatment for Wriothesley’s visual impairment

If not treatment, then she prefers sweet tasting drinks and Wriothesley prefers bitter but she still tries to get him on her new concoctions

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Wriothesley

Hydro/Catalyst

Wriothesley

May or may not be somewhat visually impaired

If so, not particularly compliant with treatment

If not treatment, then he prefers bitter tasting drinks and sometimes humors Sigewinne by trying her new concoctions, mostly just pretends he’s converted to sweet and then goes for coffee or tea anyways

Likes to tease Sigewinne

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Sigewinne

Investigator for Fontaine justice system (woeful news, he's a police officer. like not even a detective dude?)

Seems pretty chilled out, strategic, could be leading the organized crime w/Navia in secret

if he is secretly running robinhood-esque crimes with navia, then...Neuvillette sniffs something suspicious but never has the evidence to back it oop

Pyro/Claymore (He’s a Cryo Catalyst but his fists go boom boom like Heizou)

Navia

Gives off Focalors vibes (was very wrong)

Playful (yeah I mean yeah)

Career Thief OR

Notorious organized criminal in Fontaine (literally what was I on)

Robin Hood of the sewers (I mean I was kinda sorta a tiny bit right)

Crafty, craftsman (ummm I guess her mind is?)

Super sweet, wonderful character (loved her so yes)

Loves messing with Clordine by making her think she's got her but escaping right in the nick of time (….needless to say I was way off)

Geo (confirmed)/Catalyst (claymore actually)

[writingoddess1125]

You Cook For them even though you suck at it-

Buggy, Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Shanks, Mihawk

Buggy

You you offer to cook for him he is hesitant. Buggy is actually a great cook and will take over making food for you if he catches you in the kitchens of the Big Top.

"I don't know about that (Y/N)-" He would say quickly as you smile at him.

"It will be fine I promise! I've gotten better!" No the fuck you hadnt- he shouldn't have trusted you with this when you set down a bowl of slop.

"Oh What the fuck (Y/N)!? What is this?! Why is it still moving?" He yelled poking some form of meat with a spoon and watching it twitch back.

"It's just rare!" You argue back. "Rare my ass!!" He yelled before forcing himself to take a bite.

He quite literally falls apart to the ground.

Luffy

Luffy would be excited that you offered to cook for him. Being too happy to ignore the weird smell from the kitchen and from the bowl you set down.

He quickly tucked in, eating away at the bowl until it was gone and smiling brightly at you.

"Thank you for the meal (Y/N)!" He said cheerfully, you smiled excitedly.

"Did it taste good?" He stares at you for a moment like he was thinking. "No it was pretty disgusting" you stare at him shocked.

"Why did you eat it then?" You question at his bluntness of willing to eat something gross.

"Cause you made it!" Eh Good enough-

Zoro

Is equally as bad as a cook as you- So when the two of you come together it only means chaos.

"Zoro im going make us a special meal!" You chime, watching him nod and follow along.

In the kitchen he drinks as he watches you attempt to cook. Even using his sword to cut up random vegetables and fruit. Once done it is a jet black color pouring out purple steam- He stares at it a bit afraid before taking a bite.

Zoro body would lock up- Like he had been hit with electricity. His eyes beginning to water and he grabbed the booze again to down if quickly- all of it very quickly.

"....That was awful-"

He manages to groan out as he rubbed his face.

Sanji

Will be head over heals for you, and when you offer to cook for him his whole body freezes- His eyes wide and practically screaming to not have this done-

"M-My Love! My Sweet! No need for that I can cook for us!" He insist sweat hitting his brow.

"No No, You cook for us every night! Let me do it!" You'd insist and go into his kitchen. It would quickly turn into a battle of if he loved food more then you- Once he sees you hold the knife wrong and damn near cut off a finger he steps in.

Shaking his head at this and taking the knife from you.

"Please dont- Love you um.. are cookingly challenged- I'm taking over"

Before he kicks you out of his kitchen.

Usopp

Usopp has actually pretty good taste in food, He enjoys food and has been heavily pampered by Sanji's cooking and food he be served when visiting Kaya.

So when you offer him food at first he's happy and talks about his experiences as a 'Chef' but when you bring down a half burned and half raw fish that still seemed to be twitching and some other odd trimmings that seemed to be stewed.

"Uhhh (Y/N)- you made this?"

He would question as he stared at the questionable plate.

"Yep!" Hearing your cheery voice he tries to sweet talk and lie his way around eating it at first. But once you insist he would nod and take a hefty bite. His face draining of all color as he chewed, forcing himself to swallow as he sits frozen.

"Usopp?-"

He ends up fainting-

Shanks

Shanks will try anything once, however he found out early on that you couldnt cook- While he never openly confronts you about it he does know damn well you shouldn't be near a kitchen.

Once you offer to cook for him he is jovial as normal and supportive. However when you bring out the bowl of- what looked like what a sea beast would vomit he started to sweat. Taking a big swig of his booze before taking a bite.

His whole body shivered in disgust and paled. Slowly trying to chew as he gave you a watery smile.

"It's alright It's Alright-"

Shanks said, his face turning purple as he tried to keep the food from coming back up as quickly as it came.

Mihawk

While it may be surprising but Mihawk is the pickiest of eaters- So when you say you made him a meal, He tries to hold himself back from making any comments before he's seen it.

'Maybe it's not that bad?...'

He thinks as he takes a seat at the dining room table. Waiting quietly as he hears you clattering in the kitchen- however he knew knew it would be unpleasant when the smell hits him. You step out cheery and happy as a massive bowl is set infront of him. His eyes widened at the sight- he had seen many horrible things in his life but nothing like this-

"Why is it that color?-" He would ask as you explained away that you didn't know the exact ingredients to make it so you improvised. Mihawk took a shaky breath and leaned down to give a sniff- once the fowl odor hit his nose he pushed the bowl back.

"(Y/N) Darling. You can't cook- I can't eat this... I love you dearly but whatever is in this bowl has been damned"

[liesmyth]

locked tomb characters ranked by how cringe they are

because this post by @wifegideonnav reminded me that they’re all losers, but some are even more losers than the others

Hot Sauce: 1/10. This girl is cool in all possible ways and definitely future lead researcher material. No cringe, zero notes.

Pyrrha: 2/10. By far the least cringe of The Olds. Yes her nicknames for Nona have dad joke energy but she’s very earnest about it and it’s cute.

Juno Zeta: 2/10. Total MILF. Very smart and should know better than to get flirty with We Suffer, but I get it.

Marta Dyas: 3/10. A complete badass with a very sensible outlook on avoiding unnecessary forms. Call me Judith because I would also make a pass at her at the first possible chance.

Commander Wake: 3/10. She made Pyrrha fall in love with her, seduced ever-loyal G1deon into hatefucking and galvanized a dying resistance movement. She was genuinely nice to Gideon those 3 seconds they interacted in passing! Then she had to go and hide under the bed of a mentally ill teenager.

Dulcinea: 4/10. Her horniness for revenge is epic. Let down Pal as nicely as she could and managed to outwit Cytherea when it mattered. Not cringe at all.

Camilla: 4/10. Yes, she could kill you in seconds but she did once sell cigarettes, her most liquid asset, for about a third of their market value.

Alecto: 4/10. Scary eldritch woman-shaped creature with a sword, comes highly recommended by Pyrrha Dve. Loses points for confusing Middle English and thinking John was the best possible Sailor Earth when he was clearly the worst.

G1deon: 5/10. Utterly willing to burn for what he believes in. Yes, he probably needs some perspective but he made sure the baby had enough air before kicking Wake out of the airlock and Matthias Nonius thinks he’s an okay dude.

Pash: 5/10. She has that freedom fighter swag and the cool hair but she is a terrible bodyguard coasting on nepotism, sorry to say.

Palamedes: 6/10. He didn’t clock the serial killer pretending to be his ex because he was too busy going to painfully extreme lengths to avoid interacting with her.

Naberius: 6/10. My controversial opinion is that Babs is the least cringe of the Third House throuple. Yes he looks and acts like a peacock but he puts up with Corona snacking on him for no reason and is still nice to her, and gives Ianthe solid romantic advice.  

Nona: 6/10. Cringe in the unselfconscious way of a young teenager, and put this ability to use making Pal fess up to his nurse kink. She will never be cool but it’s part of her appeal.

Mercymorn: 7/10. Speaks in onomatopoeias. She knows she is insufferable so she’s gonna do her best to make sure to be the most insufferable person in every room. Once called John Gaius “the best man I who ever lived” to his smug face and not even blowing him up later makes up for that.

Ianthe: 7/10. Looks like a wet rat. Hopelessly dramatic but she pulls it off. Declares her love for Harrow at every turn in the most transparent possible way then pretends she’s just being snarky. Some cool points for actually getting shit done

Coronabeth: 7/10. Terrible taste in love interests. Her freedom fighter era was hot but she thinks pompadour hair is a good look? Also, the way she spent her whole life lying about necromancy speaks of extreme conflict avoidance. Cringe move.

Judith: 7/10. She deserved to suffer and has suffered more than she deserves. It’s cringe how she clings to her imperialist brainwashing but she gets a point for rightfully understanding she should be wary of Corona, something Ianthe still can’t even grasp.

Ortus: 7/10. Yes he quotes his own epic poetry WIP at people but he also had to grow up on the Ninth with nothing better to do. Genuinely a very nice guy.

Cytherea: 8/10. Her unhinged vibes are very hot but she killed a couple of nerds and two teenagers instead of anyone who was actually dangerous. Cringe of her!

Silas: 8/10. Smarmy cloud-looking motherfucker. He is a child Pope and I guess he can’t help the inherent cringe of the Eight. But that’s still no excuse for bringing a portrait of John all the way to Canaan House just to hang it in your bedroom, dude.

Gideon: 8/10. Babygirl is a horny virgin with the vocabulary of a nerd. Harrow is bones over tit in love with her and she fails to notice after living in Harrow’s brain for eight months. Gets points for managing to maintain impressive biceps on a diet with no protein.

Augustine: 9/10. Extremely cringe because of how hard he tries to pretend he’s not cringe. Cigarettes on a space station and effectively performing swag don’t make up for how much he clearly wants to suck John’s dick. Which he did at least twice.

Harrow: 10/10. Spent most of her life being mean to Gideon because she was too hot to deal with and lobotomized a coffee shop AU into existence. Thinks Ianthe Tridentarius is beautiful. Once built a bone cocoon to sleep in after not drinking water for two days. Should’ve told God months ago that she just didn’t want to eat his fucking biscuits and stop offering.

John: 10/10. Unfortunately, this scale only goes up to 10 but we all know it’s not enough. Deeply cringe in a myriad of ways, chiefly among them the way he inflicts his barely veiled incest kink on all his friends. That one dad joke was gold, though.

This was getting too long but for the record: Aiglamene is cool and so is Abigail Pent. Magnus is not cool but he’s a fun time. The Terrible Teens are exempt from judgement on account of being 14.

[kr-han]

HiGH&LOW Random Fun Facts That You May Not Know

Disclaimer: SWORD only and the list is so random, so bear with me.

Cobra loves cupcakes, he probably has sweet tooth.

Cobra styles his hair according to his mood (not like bad or good but more like he's fired up enough or not).

Cobra has A LOT of red clothing. His real name is Hino Junpei (緋野盾兵) and the first character which is 緋 can also be read as aka which means red or scarlet.

He loves Antonio Inoki (a pro-wrestler) so much and make it his whole personality (including his red scarf).

When Cobra is drunk, he would shout, "Inoki-san, genki desuka!?". In MUGEN era, he would do it with Kohaku for the rest of the night.

Cobra admires Kohaku so much because he thinks Kohaku resembles Antonio Inoki.

Cobra has small appetite not even 1/10 of Yamato's. But he eats cupcakes.

Cobra can't draw.

Cobra didn't use sticker on LINE (the messanger).

Cobra and Yamato can't speak English. They're probably the type who'd say, "We're Japanese we don't need English!"

Yamato is afraid of cats. The reason is cat can get long.

Yamato's insult never sounds like one.

Noboru favorite food is sea cucumber. He's sea cucumber maniac.

According to Cobra Noboru type is a girl with glasses.

Dan on the other hand, can draw well. But he can't draw woman.

Rocky is a little clumsy, he forgot small things like key.

Hyuga always sleeps whenever there's no fighting nor something exciting to do.

Murayama loves corndog.

Murayama dislikes sharing his food.

G-SWORD's leaders alcohol tolerance: Cobra is rather low, Rocky is rather high, Murayama prefer to eat than drink (but according to Nakazono, Murayama didn't make any different when he's drinking or not), Hyuga prefer to sleep than anything else, and Smoky can't.

According to Kizzy, Rocky becomes a foolish/idiotic old man when he's drunk. Kizzy also said, "When he's drunk, he got no dignity whatsoever."

Murayama's favorite alcohol beverage is ryokucha-hai (which a combination of green tea and shochu. Might be wrong though, you can search: 緑茶ハイ).

Hyuga's favorite alcohol beverage is shochu.

When Oya part timer go to karaoke, they sing girl idols' songs.

Masaki do all the house chores in Amamiya's households from cleaning up to cooking.

Hiroto's favorite food is curry.

When Hiroto cooks, he only cooks curry.

Takeru is forgetful. Masaki has to remind him all the time. Hiroto? He waits to be petted by his aniki.

Kaito and Kizzy have a couple ring and they use it as necklace.

In HiGH&LOW The Movie, Kaito and Kizzy joined the fight but there's no single footage of them fighting. But they appeared before the fight and after the fight with some bruises.

From End of Sky to Final Mission, Cobra didn't wear his red scarf anymore.

Despite using his red scarf as a personality, Cobra didn't use it to fight beside for his character introduction scene in episode 1.

Ichigo Milk has been inviting Naomi to join them, but Naomi refuses due to Itokan. She wants to take care what's left by her brother.

Naomi can actually beat dudes.

Murayama keeps the strawberry bag from Oshiage and he uses it as a pillow.

Ice gave Sarah a teddy bear (and a necklace).

Ice can cook and according to Mighty Warriors' member, Ice's curry tasted like seafood when he uses zero seafood ingredients. Apparently, it matched the actor's fun fact: Elly's curry always tasted like he put seafood in it even when he's not.

There was once, Seki dressed up in sailor uniform for karaoke. Of course, they sing girl idols' songs.

Toutetsu brothers cook for Hyuga, but he sleeps almost all day long, so Katou needs to wake him up just to eat.

Ukyou cooks better than Sakyou.

Ukyou needs to separate Daruma's income into envelopes and hide them because if not, Hyuga would splurge the income into zero. Hyuga can't manage money.

Lala reads books for the kids in Mumeigai, and they literally have reading time with Lala.

Furuya has truck driver's license.

Murayama durability is top notch and it resemble his given name which is Yoshiki. His full name written like this 村山良樹 and Yoshiki (良樹) is consist of characters that mean good or skilled, and trees or wood. He's a skilled trees or wood, or whatever but that clearly means that his durability is on another level. That's why he could bear the 100 punches challenge and still fight back after that.

Hiroto and Smoky loves cat.

Murayama talked to a cat. (He's cat, but also puppy; whatever he's cute).

Murayama introduced Todoroki to Cobra in person.

Murayama has 4 vans' shoes and a pair of converse. (Haven't count how many jackets he has though, might count it when I rewatch).

At least, Tsukumo has been hit by the car twice. He should avoid getting near cars. No cars near him, please.

White Rascals' outfit are all white and it's hard to keep it clean. The visual line (Shimura, Bito, Aizawa, and Enari) has a hard time because they spend so much money for laundry and cleaning. Little did they know, Rocky actually could paid 80% of their cleaning cost. But Rocky didn't say it to them because he knows that they would be worried about how to pay Rocky back. (Rocky is so sweet). Probably the only guys that use this privilege only Koo and Kaito.

Rocky paid 100% of the girls' laundry and cleaning cost (including Kizzy).

Rocky's surname, Mutsugi, is actually a word play. It's written as 六ツ木 in Japanese. Which the character 六 can be read as mutsu (mu for short) or roku (ro for short) and it means six; ツ is a katakana for tsu and in hiragana it's written like this つ. When tsu is written small in between characters (it's called sokuon) like っ/ッ it purposes is to geminate the next character; and 木 is ki and it means tree. If we put them together and make the tsu as sokuon, we'll get 六ッ木 which read as ろっき in hiragana and ロッキ in katakana (both are rokki) we got his name, Rocky (ロッキー).

Source: rewatching the series and the movies over and over again so I can get into the useful but also useless facts, and the g-sword manga by CLAMP. If you want to read HiGH&LOW g-sword manga by CLAMP you can read HERE for English translation or DI SINI untuk translasi Bahasa Indonesia. Note: Might add more if I find or remember more. Also, I'm sorry there's too much Cobra, can't help though, I love him a little bit too much.

MORE OF IT

[pumpkinroll]

history class ↪ obey me! thirteen x f! reader︱one shot (1.3k) tags: 18+ only, dubcon, public sex & some exhibitionism, fingering/oral on reader, use of “my girl” & “good girl”, some dirty talk, established relationship, pervy levi (just a cameo)

“Eh? Who are you!?”

You couldn't remember the last time Thirteen actually showed up to class willingly.

She rolled her eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, “I'm allowed to be here y'know!” 

The reaper plopped into the seat next to you and opened her textbook, huffing, “I can come and go as I please, I just felt like coming today! Nothing wrong with that. Hmph.”

You cocked an eyebrow, wondering what she was really up to, before opening your own textbook to today's history lesson. You patiently waited for the professor to start as he fumbled around up front trying to get the projector started.

“Just saying, don't try to copy me if we have a pop quiz, you're on your own.” You shook your head and turned your attention back to the professor, who was already drawling into the lesson.

He never failed to make minutes seem like hours. 

You turned your head slightly to glance at the beautiful reaper, wondering how she was holding up.

To no one's surprise, she was already fast asleep on her textbook, snoozing away without any care in the world. You love her — but even you fail to see why she bothered to come today.

At least the two of you were furthest in the back, the professor paying no mind to anything other than what was on the board.

“Mmm…mmmff…just a little…more…” Thirteen murmured. You glanced to see some drool on the corner of her mouth and a not-so-angelic look on her face. To be fair, that's rarely a thing to begin with.

Leave it to Thirteen to have a wet dream during class.

You peeked around hoping no one heard her and luckily all seemed well. Levi who was in front of you was thankfully engrossed in his game.

Gently you shook Thirteen’s shoulder and woke her up, looking none too pleased.

“Hey, c'mon! I was having the BEST dream, what the hell!” she whisper-shouted, shuffling around in her seat, her thighs rubbing together. “You were so close — !”

“Excuse me!?”

Thirteen crossed her arms and shot you a pouty look, “It's been a while since we fucked, don't tell me you haven't had any urges lately!?”

“Thirteen!”

Mortified you looked around once more, hoping no one heard her, noticing Levi ever so briefly stopped playing his game before continuing. He was probably just changing to a different game; at least that's what you told yourself to feel better.

“Ugh, Thirteen, we can talk about this later!”

“No I want to talk about this now. I've barely seen you lately, I miss you, you're always so busy...” A perfectly manicured hand rubbed your thigh with a feather-like touch. Teasing. Just the way you love it — it then clicked and you caught on to what she was up to.

You bit your bottom lip before taking a quick shaky breath. 

“That's not f-fair…” your voice cracked, “Let's just talk after classes later and —” 

Her hand moved higher up your thigh, beneath your uniform skirt. “Can you really wait until later? Can you resist this?” 

Lime green eyes scanned the room quickly and in a flash she pulled her top down, revealing big soft bouncy breasts and perky pink nipples to match.

Fuck.

She smirked and shook her breasts, “Your favorite yeah? — Ugh, Levi I'll cut off your balls with a rusty sword! Turn around!” Thirteen covered up quickly before anyone else noticed, grumbling about the otaku in front of her before turning her attention back to you.

“Anyway…” her hand resumed rubbing light sensual circles upon your upper thigh, getting dangerously close to the aching spot between your legs. “I just want a small taste. Just stay quiet and enjoy it alright?” 

You let out a small sigh and nodded, feeling crazy for going along with it but feeling a thrill from it at the same time. Thirteen always did have that intoxicating power over you. She, ironically, always made you feel so alive.

“That's my girl~ ♡” she murmured, her finger pressing softly against your clothed clit, making you squirm in your seat.

You tried to keep your attention on the professor, hoping to not rouse suspicion to the back. You thanked Diavolo's decision for the enclosed desks at the academy also wondering how many others have used this to their advantage .

Thirteen tried to follow your lead, resting her cheek on her hand as the other one beneath the desk continued rubbing up and down along your slit, relishing the sweet damp spot that's formed.

She slowly added more pressure against your cunt, feeling the pool of stickiness seep through the thin fabric, covering her fingers. A small giggle escaped her lips before finally pulling your drenched panties aside, rubbing her thumb against your naked swollen clit.

A barely audible moan escaped, you felt your face burn as you tried to keep your focus on the lesson.

Why did you ever agree to this!?

Your legs betrayed you and opened further on their own, letting her delicate fingers toy around your sopping wet cunt, another small moan slipped between your lips.

This is way too dangerous.

Reaching down, you reluctantly pulled her soaked fingers that were pumping into you, away from your cunt.

“W-we should s-stop…s'too good—” you feebly spoke.

“What? No way…” Thirteen glanced towards you and waved her wet fingers before sucking your essence off them, “Yummy as always. Definitely not enough for me nor you.”

“But — ”

Unfortunately, the reaper swiftly and quietly slipped beneath the desk, propping herself between your slick covered thighs. Her hot breath tickled your exposed swollen clit.

Oh no. 

Oh fuck. 

There was no getting out of this. Not unless you wanted to get caught by everyone. 

Panicking, you peeked around before glancing back down at the lewd sight between your legs.

“Such a good girl, look at this pretty wet pussy,” she licked her plum stained lips, holding eye contact with you as her warm slippery tongue slipped between your folds. “Mmm...'could eat you all fucking day.”

You bit your lip as hard as you could, daring to not let a single sound out no matter how much you wanted to.

It had been ages since she went down on you and you never imagined this would be how she would do it, never imagined how fucking good it would feel. So fucking naughty and dirty but so sinfully good.

At this point, you had no idea what the lesson was about, you could only focus on the way Thirteen deliciously wrapped her lips around your sensitive clit, sucking and licking while her fingers fucked you to a new height of pleasure. 

“Your cunt is so delicious, ” she mumbled, flattening her tongue and lapping along your slit.

You closed your eyes and panted as quietly as you could, unable to stay silent anymore, your mouth slightly agape.

Opening your eyes again, you briefly saw Levi gawk in your direction — undoubtedly knowing what you two were up to. You didn't care anymore, you knew the pervy demon would keep quiet.

You stared at each other for a few seconds as you continued lewdly panting before biting your hand, closing your eyes, and putting your head down on the desk. Fuck you were so so close. 

You rocked onto Thirteens tongue, aching for release. 

“Mmm,”

Grabbing the back of her head you continued rubbing your clit against her tongue before finally reaching your peak, squirting into her mouth as a small groan escaped you. 

You continued panting as your eyes fluttered open, riding out your high. Luckily there was still no one aware of what was going on in the back of the room.

Well, except Levi, who you could see was jacking off beneath his desk and very shortly let out a satisfied grunt. Figures.

Once again, Thirteen swiftly made it back into her chair, wiping her mouth as she grinned and looked to you.

“See, that was great right? Let me know if you want to go again.” She teased, giving a flirty wink. 

You let out a satisfied sigh and fixed yourself up before cleaning your chair just as the bell rang for the next class.

“You know damn well I do. We're going back to my room.”

Thirteen squealed and grabbed your hand as the two of you rushed out the academy to get back to the house of lamentation.

divider by sister-lucifer

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Propaganda under the cut because it's long:

Alexander I Pavlovich

a. “Maybe not the most handsome or charismatic man in this tournament, but he has ample chaotic neutral energy that both baffles and fascinates contemporaries. In short, if you're into mysterious men, you won't find a sexier enigma than our imperator.”

b. “Look. Is this or is this not the monsterfucking website.”

c. There are lots of monuments dedicated to him. There's one in Moscow in the Alexander Garden right by the Red Square. While nowhere near as grand as the Alexander Column, I think it's still worth showcasing!

The monument is meant to celebrate his victory in the 1812 Russian invasion. He's holding a sword, proudly standing on top of his enemies' weapon.

The sculptors, however, have never seen the man in their life - all the people involved in the making are still alive and well (i think), so that should tell how new it is. The monument was opened for the public just a decade ago in 2014.

d. quote about this bust from the memoirs of Sophie de Choiseul-Gouffier: “No painter was able to properly capture the features of his face and especially his soft expression. Alexander didn’t like to pose for portraits and they were mostly done with some stealth. In this case sculpture have produced a better likeness. The famed Thorvaldsen made a bust of this sovereign worthy of a hand of such a remarkable artist.”

e. His family nickname might have been ‘our angel’ and the medal commemorating his death bears the inscription “Our angel is in heaven”, but did you know that to this day Alexander looks down on Sankt Petersburg as an actual angel, wings, cross, trampled snake and all? Alas, you cannot see it from the ground, the Alexander Column being so very tall, but the statue of the angel on top certainly seems to take after our sexy thrice-angel Emperor.

f. Apotheosis of Alexander! An eminently universal image, perfectly serviceable for his rise to the throne… of Napoleonic Sexyman Tournament.

It really looks like Peter and Catherine are instructing the Electorate. Gentlevoters, surely you wouldn’t dream of disappointing Sasha’s Grandmother and his scantily clothed giant of a Great-great-grandfather?

g. What is sexier than a man in a dress???

Mikhail Miloradovich:

Miloradovich had a short episode as Catherine the Great's favourite at just eighteen. Alas, usually he's not included on the official list except by Barskov. That is because he was one of several concurrent boytoys candidates in 1789, before Zubov won the contest. But I believe that being to Catherine's taste adds to M's sexyman cred.

He never married, but according to his legend, he kept an entire trunk of love letters (from many, many ladies) in his palace, which was discovered after his death.

Miloradovich possessed the kind of cavalier fantasy that made him a hero among soldiers (and one of Suvorov's favourites). Hence these three popular stories:

Once, while on campaign, his soldiers decided to give M their best wishes on his name day. He was very gracious about it and told them with his best roguish smile that in thanks for their wishes he'd give them a present... that present being the nearest pretty-as-a-picture enemy column (French).

On one occasion Joachim Murat came out, sat down and demonstratively drank coffee during an active fire exchange. Miloradovich naturally couldn't be worse and asked for a table to be set for him. Also under the fire, because where else. "He's drinking coffee? I'm eating dinner here!" And it wasn't a singular event: more than once he and Murat conducted a peculiar gallant flirtation on the field. And yes, Miloradovich also had a weakness for very blingy bling.

Alas, M didn't get to carry a ladder (that we know of), but he didn't shy motivating his soldiers in similar ways. It just so happened that his scouting party came to a stop at a steep slope and froze. Miloradovich came forward, got on the ground and slid down the slope on his spine, laughing and generally having (or pretending to have) lots of fun.

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |V| Pirate!Eddie au

a/n thank you to @eddies-house for helping me figure out this darn chapter. you saved me from a menty b.

please remember to support by reblogging and commenting!! you don't know how much it helps writers

Series Masterlist

word count: 8.2k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying.

Chapter 5: Flintlock

“A taste for adventure is by no means a masculine monopoly” ― Lloyd Alexander

It was certainly strange, seeing the cabin through the daylight. The wooden panelling of the walls and floor looked softer, and the decorations on the walls were no longer covered in menacing shadows. The bed, however, was softer than your dream made it seem. It was better than the ground, but knowing who usually occupied it made your back stiff with dread. 

The room was empty as you got up, stretching your body out of the foreign feeling of a bed. Another thing to thank the captain for— perverting the concept of a bed. There was no space for anyone to hide in the cabin, but you still looked around, waiting for him to appear out of thin air. It seemed like just the thing he could do and had been doing all your time on board. Only once you checked every corner could you properly set your mind at rest.

Besides the sunshine, nothing had changed from the night before. It was as if you had stepped through time, from night to morning. Your old clothes hung on the edge of the bed. The bookcase was missing the one book you had pulled out, leaving the rest at an awkward angle. Your dinner plate and ale jug, alongside the captain’s empty rum bottle, were left behind on the desk, but as you walked towards the table, you noticed the cup to be filled again, and on the plate stood two thick slices of bread and some brightly coloured fruit you had not seen before—more food that must have been retrieved during the brief exploration of the nameless island. You sat down on the throne and tried to push aside the feeling that came whenever you touched something, anything, to do with the captain. It was like he haunted all his possessions, never leaving you alone.

The bread was the safest option; it was your first bite, breaking your fast. After the delicious meal you had been given last evening, the salty dryness of the dough did not compare by the slightest, but the cool fresh water that had also been left for you made up for it.

And the fruit… 

You were still unsure of what it was, but the juice of it felt healing to your senses. You ate it slowly, trying to savour every bite. 

Once done, you noticed that all the documents the captain had thrown off last night still lay spread out on the ground. This, in particular, unsettled you. Just seeing the mess of it all splayed out there. So, without much thought, you went to pick up the papers, stacking them in neat piles and placing them on the corner of the large desk. Soon enough, you were done, and only one piece of paper was left. It had fallen right under the desk. You went to pull it out when you noticed it.

The drawer you had tried to open the night before. The one Munson had unlocked with the key around his neck and had taken a bottle of rum from. It was ajar. So close to being locked that Munson must have thought he had closed it when he slammed it. But no, with a quick pull at the handle, it opened up for you. 

Inside was a collection of bottles in different shapes and sizes. Most were still full. You picked one up out of sheer curiosity. Why lock up this stock? Unless it was valuable, or dangerous? Maybe he tried to keep it away from everyone else on board. But as you held the bottle, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just a simple, red glass bottle, the cork wedged sturdily into the neck. The liquid sloshed against the container like any other drink as you tipped it around. Still trying to understand the content of the locked drawer, you put it down in its place.  

Or were about to. Because that is when you noticed the paper sticking out from underneath the other bottles. That gnawing feeling in your stomach returned as you contemplated what to do. The captain had made it very clear he did not appreciate you looking through his things, and you were sure that if he were to catch you again, it would not end as simply as you having to star-gaze for an evening. The warnings were loud and clear. 

Then again, when did you start caring about those? Or anything he said. 

Moving the biggest bottles around carefully to create space, you pulled the paper out of the drawer. At first, you thought you had ripped it, but upon closer inspection, you realised it had been torn in halves long before you had gotten your hands on it. The paper was browned at the edges, a corner half-burned as if someone had decided against its destruction at the last minute. The words meant little at first, but as you read on and became more familiar with the hand they were written in, pieces fell into place. And they fell hard. 

Like the loud clash you heard from outside the cabin, startling you. Scared you were about to get caught, you put the paper down into the drawer and shut it with your leg, holding your breath for the door to open. You waited for several seconds, but nothing moved. 

You did not know what caused the commotion or if you were about to be greeted by someone outside the door, but you knew you could not stay in the cabin alone for much longer. The more time passed, the more similar the situation felt to the night before. The gnawing urge to look through all the drawers and nooks was just as big as the risk of being caught, and it was dangerous. Fortunately, the door opened flawlessly when you pulled at it. 

It had remained a cloudless sky, but now the dark navy sprinkled with stars was exchanged for a vibrant and youthful blue. The sun hung above your heads, piercing the air onto your skin in a warm glow. 

The crew was below you, spread out around the deck, and now one had looked up or probably even noticed your presence. So, making yourself comfortable on the stairs, you sat by, peeking through the balustrade bars, and watched what was happening. After all, it was a morning full of observations. 

The men were spread out over the ship in groups, all busy with their own activities. The easiest to make out were those in a circle, watching as two of them attacked eachother with swords. The smiles on their faces told you enough; it was merely another session of training or some form of playfighting. The last time they had been doing it, you did not care to stand by and watch, not at all interested in their antics. This time, however, you took the opportunity to observe how they went about it. Since it was nothing but leisure, the moves were wide, easy to block, but once in a while, they would nick eachother just to stay sharp. Then, the attacked would groan in pain, grabbing at the part of their body that was hit in agony. 

Each time it happened, the small crowd observing would show their satisfaction or disappointment, depending on which side of the duel they supported, with shouts and encouragement. 

‘C’mon Harrington! Get him!’ 

‘Shut it, will you,’ “Harrington”, as he was called by his audience, turned to look in their way, annoyed, but in that short second, his opponent took a shot with his sword’s pommel, hitting him in his temple. Harrington was knocked back a few steps and had to shake the hit off but remained on his feet. 

You were unsure what the game's rules were and how one would win in the circumstances, but one thing was clear—Harrington stood little chance as his opponent managed to get another cut in. A bruise, most likely from a previous encounter much like this one, had already formed under his eye, but even with the dark purple shade on his skin, you could not deny he looked quite handsome… for a criminal. You had seen him around, pulling at ropes, carrying around their precious cargo, and keeping other crewmates from breaking out into fistfights—he must have brought your meals down to the cell once too. 

His brown hair was sleeked back but tended to move around as he did, so he constantly had to push it out of his face. The collar of his shirt was wide open, revealing a sweat-stained chest. 

‘I really don’t get it,’ a raspy voice spoke from above you, making you strain your neck to look back up at the quarter-deck. Somehow, in your spectatorship of what was happening below, you had completely missed the fact that someone had been steering the ship and had, in fact, stood beside you next to the captain’s door all along.

You had not expected to hear your thoughts reciprocated and voiced anywhere near this ship, so they left you stunned. And perhaps this was the reason why you had not got up and run off at the sound of them or the presence of someone at your side but instead stammered out a clumsy response. ‘Sorry?’ 

‘They run around with their shiny sticks, hit each other just to cry about it like children,’ your new conversation partner said, ‘I just do not understand the appeal of it.’

‘No, me neither, really.’ In your opinion, there were much better, less barbaric ways to release energy and tension than this brutish behaviour. The fight below was still firmly underway, but you had gained a new interest in the person by your side. You couldn’t help but notice how they wore clothes in a very similar manner to you—a large shirt tightened by a leather vest, long trousers kept in and shorter with rope. It was as if they made do with things that had never been intended for them. Their hair could be short or long, depending on who you spoke to, but you could not tell. 

‘I’ll tell you this, I’ve sailed across all possible seas in the world and men are still one of the biggest mysteries I have not been able to solve.’

You blinked slowly as the words reached your barely awake mind. A revelation that had struck you more than anything on board. 

You weren’t the only woman here. The other just sat down next to you on the steps. 

‘You can stop staring,’ she said, slightly frazzled, and you quickly looked away, mumbling an apology. Despite that, you kept stealing glances her way. Her hair, light as sand, was chopped messily as if done by hand with a blunt knife. Her skin was sunkissed with freckles and perhaps a bit of dirt. ‘I’m Buck. I know who you are, of course.’ 

‘How—’ How had you not seen her before? How were you not aware of a woman on board all this time? And perhaps it was wishful thinking to assume that she might be someone you could be comfortable with just from that one common trait, but you could not deny that something in you felt more at peace than seconds before.

‘Surrounded by this type, I understand you’d want to keep your head down,’ she smiled awkwardly, ‘but you can’t forget how to look up.’ She tilted her head back as she said it, so you followed suit. The sun blinded you, but as you focused on what was above you, you saw the masts towering tall in their black silhouettes and there, atop the tallest one, was the lookout point. 

‘You sit in the crow’s nest,’ you smiled understandingly.

‘Robin’s nest, I took it upon myself to rename it, don’t know why, I just resonate more with them— call it superstition, I don’t know— and I’ve earned the right considering none of them want to make the climb.’ she pushed her chin towards the rest of the crew. ‘But it’s a good view, you should join me up there some day. If you ever need to get away, you know.’

‘I— I’m not the greatest with heights.’ The speed at which Buck spoke left your brain gripping onto words to keep up, and so your reply came out a bit frazzled.

‘Me neither,’ Buck shrugged. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t seen me get stuck in the nets before. It happens twice a day, at least.’ 

‘And they still let you climb up there?’ Surely, she could not be the smartest choice for the task. Robin snickered at your shocked expression. 

‘Like I said, none of them will do it.’ 

‘Why do it at all, then? Why risk your life every day for… them?’ These hooligans, criminals, fraudsters, monsters, villains…

‘Because I am one ofthem.’ She knew what you had meant with your comment as she spoke softer, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder with her hand in reminder. 

You glanced at the men in front of you and then turned back to Robin. ‘No, you’re really not.’

‘What because I’m a woman?’ Robin raised a brow.

‘Well, for starters.’ From a very early age, you knew that men and women were two entirely different beings. Just the way mankind treats eachother on that principle is evidence enough. 

‘Intelligence wise, you would be correct,’ Robin stated, leaning back on the steps, resting her weight on her elbows. Despite her petite frame, you noticed she wasn’t afraid to take up space. Despite a comfortable distance between you, her knee still met with yours as she sat in a wide position. ‘But we are all just people.’

You had wanted to reply but thought better of it. She saw herself as a part of them, and so an insult to the others would be an insult to her, and for some reason, you did not want to say anything that might hurt her. Strangely, for a second, you considered the idea of actually liking her. Out of everyone aboard the Hellfire, the barrelwoman seemed like the most likely person you could find yourself befriending. 

But before any more of the conversation could be led, giving you a chance to let those thoughts bloom or rot, another voice boomed over everyone else’s to prompt Buck of her duties. 

‘Robin! The ship won’t steer itself!’ It was none other than Munson, but you could not find him among his people.

‘Aye, captain.’ Bunk, or Robin as she also went by apparently, rolled her eyes, getting up with a heaved breath. ‘See you around then.’ 

You didn’t say anything, too confused by your own thoughts. You couldn’t keep your eyes away as she returned to the helm; couldn’t stop thinking about what had brought her here? What had made her choose this life to live with all these men and act in such ways? You had wondered about everyone aboard the Hellfire, but Robin… a lady sea robber. You had never heard of such a thing. It was spinning your world around but also genuinely fascinating to think about. As you sat on that step, more things came to your mind: you wanted to ask Robin about life at sea, her crewmates, and her captain. But this opportunity had sailed; it would have to be another time. 

You also could not believe you had just had a… civil exchange of words with one of them and that you had not even minded it all that much. As you looked around, it all did not feel as bad as it used to. You could see the idea of pleasantness in the actions happening before you; the laughter and the antics. 

These antics continued. The fight you had been watching had not yet ended, but by the looks of Harrington, it could not possibly last much longer. His, to you unnamed, opponent had just pushed his blade flush against Harrington’s throat, locking him into an uncomfortable tight spot. With a tap on the arm, heavier than Robin had done to you, he tapped out of the game. Half the men cheered while the rest groaned and cursed out their wager.

As the winner of the match was picking out his next match, the audience was slowly losing interest, and one of them must have found you sitting on the sidelines. Curious glances were shot your way as they all slowly caught sight of you, not saying much. Just as they had gotten used to the new addition to the ship, you appeared in clothes that were unmistakably the captain’s. Feeling all their eyes on you, as if your seat on the stairs was a pedestal, you moved away and tried to make your way down to your designated space on board below decks. 

However, your path was obstructed by one person specifically as he dried his face off with a piece of cloth.

‘Excuse me,’ you dared to say, hoping they would move out of the way. Something about having had an entire conversation with Robin made you feel a bit more comfortable speaking to the rest of them. After all, they—you—were all just people.

‘I wouldn’t run away if I was you.’ Harrington said. ‘Or you’ll never stop.’ 

‘You think they’ll let me stop?’ If you stayed, letting them near you, look at you like that, wouldn’t that be surrendering to their power.

‘I let you,’ he said, throwing the cloth over his shoulder. 

‘I’d say you made me, rather than let.’ You crossed your arms. He had, after all, stood in your way and objected to letting you pass.

‘You could always,’ he turned a quarter of a circle, pointing to his side, ‘move. Unless I am that terrifying.’

‘It may come as a surprise but I have very little reason to be afraid of you at this moment.’ It was a half-truth, as his skills in the fight have shown you little to worry for, but there was little you knew about him or what he was capable of. 

Harrington nodded. ‘I take it you watched me from up there.’ 

‘I watched the fight, yes.’ You could not admit that you had not paid as much attention to whom he was fighting as you did to Harrington himself. ‘It was… entertaining.’

‘I’m glad my suffering amuses you. Yes, that makes this all worth it.’ He pointed up to his bruised eye. 

‘You cannot blame me for your misfortune.’ 

‘Well, you are to blame for my inattentiveness.’ 

His words left you too dumbstricken to respond, and unfortunately, the commotion around you diverted the entire conversation. Another duel had begun, and men were already cheering for their victors as swords clinked together. 

Harrington, being nothing but a simple man, ran over to his designated spot in the crows to cheer on his successor. However, it was all a bit too loud, and instead, you noticed what else was happening on the deck. From where you had sat before, there had not been a clear view of it, but now you were only a few feet away from another small group of the crew. 

They sat around a small table. It wasn’t clear what they were doing, but someone would shout out every few minutes and slap their hand on the surface while the rest groaned in frustration. 

That is where you found the captain. Huddled between two other men, sitting on a low-built crate, occupying more space than there was with his legs, arm on one thigh as he leaned forward, laughing at whatever was happening at the table. It was a scene like no other. The casualness and pleasantry of it all felt foreign.

You had been used to the men on the Red Tail and their routines, but the ship always came first and, with it, their work and duty. There was never any time for… games. And you would never have caught the captain participating in any of it. Not even at home. This wasn’t something men did. Children, maybe, but no soldier or respected merchant. Only drunks and frauds. But as you looked at it, you had no idea why it was deemed so peculiar to find pleasure in these silly activities.

You were still trying to figure out, from a safe distance, what it was that they were playing when you caught Munson’s gaze. Or more so, you met it, as his eyes had already been on you. Much like everyone else’s had been previously, and yet there was an intensity there that no one else could remake.

‘There you are!’ He shouted out once you saw him, making everyone around him stop and look your way. A dozen pairs of eyes were directed at you now as you stood frozen in place. ‘Took you long enough to join as, darling.’ Some men from across the ship, around the duel circle, stopped to look at what the captain was doing too.

‘If I had known I was invited, I wouldn’t have come.’ You quipped back and felt a gust of pride at the sound of a few chuckles from the men standing nearest you, who were quickly stopped by the stern look of their captain. 

‘Now, now, don’t be like that.’ He got up from his seat, raising his voice and gaining the attention of all now. It was like a siren’s call, making everyone stop in their tracks to listen. ‘My thanks are in order for, gentlemen, our princess has led us back on course. Worked all night, in fact, to find the correct coordinates and directions—which is more then I have seen of some of you in the past days.’ With this, he raised a cup in your honour, and while no one else had anything to raise, they all cheered. You stood there, speechless and confused, unsure of what was happening. Why was the captain suddenly so openly appreciative? So… nice?

You ignored the feeling to reciprocate the thankfulness and instead opted for the unfiltered thoughts going through you. ‘You do know “princess” is not my title, right?’ 

‘And I was never ranked captain… yet here we are, princess. So let us enjoy this fantasy we live in!’ He encouraged another cheer from his crowd. Then, once the rest settled down, he spoke directly to you from across the ship. ‘Come, why don’t you join us, darling. We were about to start another round.’

‘I don’t think there are any seats left.’ The space around the table seemed rather crowded, with each seat taken and many more men standing around. You had no business or interest in getting involved in that, but the captain, as always, persisted. 

‘Wheeler was just leaving.’ He pointed to the man sitting across from him.

‘No?’ The man said slowly.

‘Well, you were loosing anyway,’ Munson shooed him away, creating an empty spot for you. 

‘I don’t know the rules.’ You persevered in your own opinion. 

‘You’ll learn soon enough, come.’ 

You were about to object, but what else could you expect than the captain calling over another of his crew, this one at least a head taller than you and probably triple your size overall. The giant walked straight, making everyone else move, until he reached you. Then, with a grin, he showed you the path in a straight line towards the table.

Unimpressed, you just said, ‘Thank you.’ and made your way over. 

‘Glad you decided to join us.’ Munson said as you looked at the table. On it were six cups; only one turned the right side up. ‘Please, do take a seat.’ You felt a large hand on your shoulders, pushing you down on the crate.

‘Rules are simple,’ the captain began explaining; he picked up the cup before him, ‘5 dice. You roll them for yourself and place a bet, indicating the number of dice you think should be on the table. Speak the truth or bluff, it doesn’t matter, but if you’re caught on a lie… well,’ he shrugged, with it saying enough. The rules sounded simple enough, but one piece of vital information was missing.

‘What are the stakes?’ This was a betting game, so there must be something they were all betting on. You took the cup in front of you and pulled it closer. The dice rattled underneath.

‘We are but humble sailors,’ Munson said, already shaking his set of dice under his cup with a swift wrist move, ‘it’s mostly ship duties and chores. Sometimes meal rations if you’re brave. Anything that speaks to you, darling?’ Oh, there was plenty, but you had to play it smart.

‘If I win,’ you began shaking your dice as well, hovering over your words for a moment to think, ‘I get your cabin… until the end of the journey’ ‘I’ll happily share my bed with you, princess,’ Munson snickered. 

‘I wasn’t finished.’ You smiled back. ‘I get your cabin. You get mine.’ Honestly, you did not have a preference for either sleeping option. The bed in Munson’s quarters was stiff, so you might as well have slept on the floor. It was more about what it meant to kick the captain out of his own cabin. You enjoyed the idea and the prospect of encouraging the captain to bring you home faster so he could return to his quarters.

Something flinched in the captain’s muscles as he tried to remain unbothered by your words. The dice kept rolling underneath the cups. The crowd backed off, quickly understanding that this was a game only two of you could play. 

‘You sure about that?’ he tried to play it off smoothly. You simply nodded. 

‘Name your price, captain.’ 

‘How about… If I win…’ a small smile grew on his lips, ´we just play another round?’ 

‘What?’ That couldn’t be it? ‘And if you win again? What happens then?’ Would you be playing this game until the end of time? 

‘Got such low chances for yourself?’ He leaned forward a bit while you pushed away from the table. 

‘I would just like to know the game before I play.’ 

‘I think you’ll learn best if we just play, so, shall we?’ He shook his cup with one last flick of the wrist before putting it to a halt, his ringed fingers clutching to the top of it, eyes locked on you as you did the same. Lightly, you tilted the cup to show the dice. They were wooden, carved out with a knife, most likely by someone on this ship. The sides were uneven, so who knows how even the odds were for the game, but to you, they seemed alright. The eyes were dug out of the panels like small holes. 

One large eyes, two pairs of threes, a four and five. 

Putting the cup back down, you looked up at the captain, his face untelling of any emotion.  

‘Ladies go first,’ he announced with a hand gesture. It was up to you to start the betting. With the numbers twirling around in your mind, you thought of what would be the best move to make. To predict his dice was impossible and would only drive you crazy, but perhaps you could predict his next move by what you presented. 

‘Four fours.’ You did your best to speak with a flat tone, to not show any emotions. Keep your breathing steady and keep your hands still. To not show any signs of nerves. The captain nodded and took another glance at his dice. There were maybe two before his rebuttal. 

‘Five fours.’  There was nothing you could read off of him. The tension across the table only intensified, growing thicker with every moment of silence that passed by.

‘Three fives,’ you replied. The captain raised a suspicious brow. 

‘Three sixes.’

‘Four sixes.´ You spoke slowly but confidently. Or with what you hoped could be seen as confidence. It was a lost battle, really. With you having none, there was no chance the captain held four sixes under his cup. He must know it, too, in your case. You knew it just is how the corner of his mouth raised in amusement. 

‘Four sixes?' he asked, and you simply nodded again, but he wanted more from you. ‘Speak up, princess.’

‘Yes.’ You spoke sternly, remaining as still as possible. The captain shook his head once, grimacing.

‘See, darling, I don’t believe in beginner’s luck.’

‘Well, captain, I couldn’t tell it’s your first time playing. But don’t worry, you’re doing really well.’ You gave him a sweet sort of smile. So sweet that it could make you sick to your stomach. A few men around you pushed down their laugh, ignoring their captain’s deadly glares.  He refocused his attention your way. 

‘Show up, princess, because I doubt luck is this much in your favour.’ He tilted his chin, nudging you from across the table to reveal your dice, which you did with a sigh because when is it ever. Since you had stepped foot on this ship, luck seemed to have been missing from your life in its entirety. And yet, with this being a known fact, you were confused to see Munson’s reaction at the reveal of what you had rolled. It was not quite pride nor disappointment. His shoulders slacked down, and something pulled at the muscles in his face. He needed a second to compose his reaction to his winning. 

‘Congratulations,’ you muttered without looking any longer at him. Ready to play the next promised round, you grabbed the cup to roll your dice again but were surprised to see Munson get off his seat. ‘What are you doing?’ 

‘Time for round two, darling.’ He smirked, walking past his crewmates to the centre of the deck. He had moved so far back that you had to turn in your seat. The confusion blocked your speaking ability, but fortunately, the captain was ready to explain. ‘I never said what game that would be, now did I?’ He stood there, surrounded by his men. His stance was wide, and his forearm hung lazily over the helm of his sword, which hung by his side. He let his fingers dance daintily across the silver while waiting for your response, the rings adorning them glistening in the sun. 

‘What–’ you took a deep breath as you felt it getting stuck in your throat, ‘what game will this be?’ 

‘I have been rather looking forward to a little duel, in all fairness. I think we all have.’ He pointed around to everyone in the audience around you. You looked at them. Their smiles were big, and their posture relaxed but eager. They were expecting a show, and, in all fairness, you wanted one too. It’s the least of what you deserved after days of this hell. 

Your shirt, still rather ample on your frame, slid down your shoulder as you got up, but you pulled it up with a swift move. Munson, and the rest, watched as you walked up. 

‘Any new rules for this round?’ You asked loudly enough for everyone to hear, but the captain had other plans. He closed the gap between the two of you to answer, whispering the words right against your ear.

‘First one to be on both knees loses. How about that, princess?’ He pulled away again to ask you the question, but only a step. You blinked, took one more deep breath and nodded. 

‘Oh, this will be fun,’ he smiled, and of course, he had. You could only imagine how much joy it would bring him to humiliate you in front of all these men. Especially since you had already, in front of everyone, admitted that you had not been taught to fight. How easy will it be to win, then?

He called out: ‘Someone give the lady a sword!’ It was aimed at no one, precisely who had handed you your weapon. You barely had the time to look around to see who had given you their sword, as it was thrust upon you with quite a lot of force, pushing you a step back. You tried to get a good grip on it, but no matter how you held it, the sword felt awkward in your hand. 

‘You expect me to fight with this?’ You looked at your sword, suppressing any visual reaction to its form. The blade looked tethered and most visibly abused in the previous battle. 

‘Not alluring enough for the lady?’ the captain said, pulling his sword out of its scabbard. 

‘No, it is not that,’ you kept inspecting your sword apprehensively, ‘though I am sure you have more handsome weapons in your property. I just hoped for a more balanced blade.’ While already at a large disadvantage, with a sword like this, you had absolutely no chance at winning. You tried to hold it up on your hand, balancing the blade against the grip, with the former immediately falling to the ground no matter how you attempted to hold it. You gave the captain an apologetic smile as the sword clanged across the floorboards. He, in response, avoided your gaze by looking at his men for a substitute. 

‘Harrington!’ he called out. Harrington stepped out from the ring of spectators, a bit stunned by the sudden call. Munson cocked his head your way, so the crewmember approached you and handed you the sword you had watched him fight with earlier. Closer up, you were taken aback by the harsh scar across his throat, like a deep indent from what must have been a rope tightened around it once upon a time. Another bruise, you noticed, was also already forming around his temple. There was his earlier opponent who had hit him. 

‘Thank you,’ you said softly as he handed you his weapon. Just from your initial grip, you could tell it was much better. Harrington nodded and moved away quickly from your and his captain’s fireline. 

While you knew enough about the objects to know what quality was good enough to use, the sword still felt foreign and awkward in your hand. You did not know how to stand while holding it, and seeing Munson opposite you, with his full confidence aglow, made you feel even smaller. But despite it all, one thing was for sure. Enough time had gone by, and enough had come between you for you to know that he could no longer treat you the same as he had the day you were broad on board. He could not do whatever he pleased with you. You wouldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t. So, while he looked you up and down with his casual smirk, you made a point to, somewhat confidently, keep your head up. 

‘What do you say, princess,’ Munson swung his sword back and forth, ‘I’ll go easy on you.’ With a weak attempt to release some tension from your shoulders, you rolled your head from side to side before copying the captain and letting the sword smoothly move around with the slightest wrist movements. It cut the air with audible slashes, leaving the captain and everyone else mute. 

‘It’s appreciated, captain,’ you didn’t forget to respond to his generosity. 

The captain simply nodded. No formal duelling rules were aboard the Hellfire since no one had time for the silly rituals. He simply stepped into position, and so you followed behind. He was, naturally, also the first to attack. 

You were just in time to block it. The blades clinked at the point of impact, and there was a moment of confusion on Munson’s face. Hesitation. It was brief and all-telling in his eyes and brow, and lucky for you, it didn’t go unnoticed. It was a blink of an action as he tried to process what you had just done. The instinct at which you performed. Did he see your smile? 

But the moment was soon as he proceeded with his next swing. And the next. Next. one after the other, locking you in with his movement. From each new angle, never passing on the theatrics of it all with turns and bends at which you should not have been able to keep up—but you did. You counteracted every attack, perhaps not flawlessly, straining to keep up with the speed and agility at which the captain moved, but it was more than anyone had expected you to be capable of. 

And finally, the opportunity presented itself. A brisk moment of stillness gave you a chance to swing your sword. Of course, he blocked it, steady on his feet, but Munson took a small step back as you kept coming forth. The metal practically echoed over the ship. Cheers from the audience subsided as everyone got lost in the duel. There seemed to be no end; you only moved faster, harsher, harder.

As you kept moving, the crows had to move along with you, making space for the extended movements of the blades. If it had not been for the well-times duck, there would have been a head short on deck. The captain kept moving back from you until there was a thud. He had nowhere else to go as you backed him up against a barrel. There was that brief flash of panic on his face again as he came across a situation he had never expected to land in, but it washed away just as quickly. There was no time for him to react to the situation, for your sword was coming closer and closer to him again, and this time he had nowhere to go. With a final move, you pressed the blade against his throat. You were both breathing heavily. Sweat poured down on both of you underneath the scorching sun. The tip of your sword remained under his Adam’s apple, which moved up and down as Munson heaved in the air. And yet, even with his neck tightly stretched as he was forced to look up because of the sword digging into his skin, he had a bemused smile upon his face.

‘You said no one taught you how to fight?’ It was more of a question than a statement, as if he was confirming his memory.

‘Which is true,’ you pulled away, happy to see you had left your mark as a small cut. ‘No civil man would teach their daughter how to draw a sword, or let a lady compromise her polite statue with violence, or put her in any compromising and potentially dangerous situation, for that matter. 

‘But they will also not let an opportunity to boast go by.’ You watched him swipe his hand at the blood pooling from the cut you had made, and you could not ignore the pride you felt with it. ‘So, I observed as they made me watch them train.’

‘That much is obvious,’ he wiped his now bloody fingers on his trousers, but the blood came pouring, slowly, down his neck. A thin red line marking your moment of victory. You couldn’t help but smile. And yet, he spoke with the most confidence, leaning against the barrel that had locked him in. ‘but we’re not done yet, princess.’ And then he attacked with a strike so flush and quick you had almost missed it. It cut the air by your side in half, and you could feel the repercussions hit you in your cheek. 

Of course, the game was not over just yet. The winner was meant to be the last one standing, literally. You might have locked him in, but he would not give up until he was down on his knees.

Munson attacked once more, taking advantage of the incoordination that came with his first blow. His target had become low, with a focus on your legs. He swiped at your feet with such an intensity that you knew if he hit you, it would leave its own mark and one much worse than the cut you had made. The only thing you could do to avoid his force was to backtrack, jumping from one leg to another. You moved around the ship like a dancing monkey in the circle of everyone’s attention. Your attempts to attack had become poorer as the captain’s smile grew wider. 

He took one long swipe down at your ankles, to which you could only respond by jumping as high as possible. The new clothes you had taken the night before certainly aided you in the acrobatics necessary when dealing with a duelling partner such as Munson, but you still wore your own shoes. The heels buckled as you landed on the ground, throwing you off balance. You felt yourself falling, but the final drop never came.

Your side hit someone’s sturdy frame. When you looked up, your eyes met a pair of brown ones. Brown, surrounded by a sea of dark purple bruises. Harrington held you up with one arm. 

‘Your footing is all wrong,’ he spoke softly, but not enough to keep it a secret between the two of you as he pulled you up to your feet.

‘Funny, as I was just copying you,’ you laughed.

The captain called out to you impatiently. ‘C’mon, princess, the fun isn’t over yet.’ But perhaps it was, as he went in for a poorly calculated strike, and you screamed out, silencing everyone to their core, bending in two as a searing pain met your side. Still holding you, Harrington kept you up as much as he could. A task that came harder to be when you went limp. He stumbled back, almost falling over himself.

When you looked down, you saw your shirt, brand new in a sense, now had a large gash. The bottom half of it hanging on by loose threads. What once was pale ivory was now coloured crimson. You looked up at your attacker, who stood only a few feet away, his weapon hanging loosely in his grip. Higher, you saw his eyes, big in fear. An indescribable expression was painted across his face, but you hoped that he could read yours. 

Trying to ignore the pain that was now overwhelming your whole body, you pushed yourself away from Harrington and passed the captain. His hand reached out to you, but you froze before he could anchor himself. Before getting yourself into more trouble, as a million thoughts raced through your mind, you dropped the sword to the ground. It fell onto the floorboards with a deafening clatter, and like that, you walked on quickly to the trapdoor, ignoring the captain’s calling of your name and the feeling it brought upon you to hear it for the first time in so long. There were more important, more painful things on your mind now.

Everyone moved out of your way, but their eyes stayed on you until you passed them. Robin had just reached the bottom of the stairs down from the helm, but she stood there just as everyone else, unsure what to do. She glanced at what was happening behind you, as you could hear people talking and moving but could not bother to turn around. You just wanted to get away from it all. The last thing you heard before heading below deck was someone angrily calling out the captain’s name, but it all felt like a blur around you.

Only once you were in your cell did you dare look at the damage he had caused. With a deep breath, you pulled the shirt’s material up to reveal a long narrow cut on your ribs. The only thing that made you feel alright was the fact that it did not look deep. As far as sword wounds go, it was a graze, but the blood continued streaming. And so did your tears. But you let that pain, and fear, boil down to anger and strength to rip the last few inches of the loose hanging pieces of shirt and wrap them around your middle as tightly as possible to stop the bleeding.

This is what happens when you let your guard down when you do not run away and instead stay and let yourself be hurt by these monsters. You did not what to think that Robin and Harrington had been a play, some kind of ruse of the captain’s invention to give you that fake sense of security, to slip you into dropping your apprehensions and lead you to… where you were now, bleeding out on the heap of hay, back in your cage. 

With your heart beating into your ears, you didn’t realise that someone had followed you down to the lower deck, or hear the footsteps coming down to see you, nor the chuckle of the chains and buckles that came with the steps.

‘For what it’s worth,’ he said once he had already stepped into your holding cell, ‘I am truly sorry.’

You had no idea what it was lying beside you, but you grabbed it and, without saying a word but with as much power as you could muster, you threw it in the general direction of his face. With a small lean, he managed to dodge it and the item fell through the railings of the cell to shatter on the ground. You stared at him darkly, hoping the message was clear. He had never seemed to be able to do it, but maybe this one time, he could let you be alone…

Of course, it could not be that simple. He would not start listening to you now. Instead, the captain bent down to his knees, meeting your line of sight. In his hand, he held one of the bottles from his drawer. 

‘Please, may I?’ he showed you the spirit bottle, and you got the idea of what he meant with it. It still took you a moment to formulate your response as you took it all in. ‘No, you may not.’ With a snap of your words, you removed the bottle from his grip and pulled the cork out with your teeth. You kept it in your mouth as you poured the alcohol over your fresh wound. The groan that left you as the alcohol burned away at the wound was only slightly muffled. 

‘It was never my intention to hurt you.’ He said in that same, defeated tone.

‘And yet,’ you had spit out the cork, this time hitting him in the chest, ‘that seems to be what happens any time you come near me.’ 

‘There is no excuse for me, I know whatever I will say will mean nothing to you.’ He watched you scoff at his response. ‘See?’ 

‘What are you doing here?’ You sighed, already tired of his presence. To think that maybe not an hour had gone by since you had woken up, moderately at peace, in his cabin and now you were lying before him, hands covered in blood and spirit, and your mind dizzying with pain and rage. 

‘How– how bad is it?’ There was a shake in his words, and you could not understand whatever for. Each move you made sent shocks down into your ribs, but as you did not feel like saying much more to him, you tilted your arm up to show the severity of the cut. The alcohol had washed off most of the excess blood and left behind the thing and precise cut over your side. Munson looked at it and another muscle in his face flinched at the sight of what he has caused. ‘It does not seem to be perilous.’

‘Yes, considering I am not dead I had figured as much.’ As you still had the bottle in your hand, you lifted it up to your lips and took a large sip. The burn at your throat was comparable to the feeling of the liquid touching your wound, but it was much more appreciated. After one more sip, you looked back at Munson. ‘Anything else, captain?’

‘No, I— I do not know what came over me, and I will not forgive myself for what I have done.’ He was stumbling over his words, but those he managed to produce left you in a whirl. How genuine it all was, you could not tell, but the deep regret he seemed to have reflected in his being. But you had learned your lesson to fall for such weaknesses.

‘Yes, it must be horrible seeing your investment get compromised.’ You took another swig of the drink. The captain opened his mouth to respond, but decided against it. He stood up already turned to leave when a final thought came to you.

‘From what I remember of the rules of the game,’ your words paralysed him mid-step as you called out, ‘I never fell to my knees.’ He, however, had. 

The captain turned enough for you to see his profile and how the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. ‘Fine, you win.’ Then he continued walking up to the ladder.

You smiled to yourself as he left.

You won.

Chapter 6

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging. I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

you are also more than welcome to join the Eddie Munson taglist. right here.

taglist (part 1)

@nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @luna-munson83 @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @vintagehellfire @raven-rust @eddiesguitarskills @taccobelle @imjusteddietrashatthispoint @lunar-corgimon

@dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreader @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @sweetpeapod@eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington

[cherrynwinesk]

Dream team headcanon's

Girlfriend with period

⚠️ : Fluff with a bit suggestive / nsfw, discomfort, teasing

Gender: female reader

🍒: Hello, writing requests are always open, if you want something in particular, ask without fear

Master list

Dream

• You wouldn't need to tell him, he realized as soon as he saw how everything around you irritated you.

•"Oh honey, you have your period right?" And you go from upset to embarrassed

•he would send you to bed immediately to rest

•If you need to get up, he would carry you like a princess and take you by the waist so you don't have to make too much effort.

•Gives you George's cookies so you can eat something while he's away

•he would ask you if you have enough sanitary pads or tampons

• If you don't have one, he immediately grabs his car keys and goes shopping for you.

•He would return with chocolate, cupcakes, medicine and more sweets to make you feel better

• He probably forgot the pads/tampons and remembered it while he was walking through the parking lot

•He buy a heat pack for the cramps in your belly

• He would give you everything buy and he would stand there waiting like a puppy for you to invite him to bed next to you.

• He would put his big hands on your belly with the intention of calming the pain

• I would tell you random things to make you forget about the discomforts

•You laughed very hard and you felt how the blood went down

•"I won't tell any more jokes I'm sorry"

• Movies or YouTube videos to pass the time

• You fell asleep with your head on his chest and he combed your hair.

•Maybe you are one of the girls who feels a little horny during your period and Dream knows it, but he would wait for you to ask him or take the first step

•He would let you know that if you want to do it he would not refuse and he would make you feel very comfortable.

•Once you mentioned it, he would offer to use his mouth without any fear of taste you

George

•Probably the period came without warning, your pants are slightly stained on your butt

• George is not prudent at all, he would try as hard as he could to see your ass stained while you fight not to look at him walking backwards because you would be embarrassed

• In the end he won, and in JOKE he would be upset saying something like "disgusting"

•You know it's a joke and he does it to annoy you, actually the last thing George would feel for you would be disgust, but seeing that you were embarrassed by it he wanted to annoy you

• You know it's a joke, but you're there at his house, with stained light-colored pants, you don't have a tampon or sanitary pad on, you were colicky, and you weren't in the mood for jokes.

• he would apologize and tell you that he is joking as soon as he saw you roll your eyes in annoyance

• After apologizing many times, he would let you into his shower.

•He gave you his clothes, any black shirt and some black shorts, all in a dark color in case there is another accident again, it won't be noticeable like the last time

•It was not necessary to go out and buy pads / tampons because you had some in your bag

• George gives you some of his food, cookies or he would sacrifice one of his favorite chocolates that Dream gave him for Christmas just for you.

•he'd get medicine for your headaches and your belly and he would put them on the table in front of you together with a glass of water

•He would order your favorite food at home

•Harry Potter marathon maybe

•He would give you your space and more knowing that he made you angry a while ago

•But you only want him close so you stay curled up on the couch watching the movies

•You'd both fall asleep for a long time

• He knows that sometimes your period upsets your hormones and sometimes you were horny but he learned not to push you and ask him to.

•He wouldn't touch you for fear of hurting you since your body becomes very sensitive on these dates of the month

•It wouldn't bother him at all to "stain his sword with blood"

• But he doesn't make any movements so as not to make you feel uncomfortable

•He would only get up from the back of the chair to take your jaw and kiss you slowly, he would increase the intensity of the kiss and go down to your neck

•He does it with the intention that you ask him to touch you

Sapnap

•Sapnap would notice if you complain about colic

• You would be sitting in his chair and the pain in your belly would come suddenly, you would immediately put your hands on your belly and complain about the pain.

•He would prepare you some chamomile tea

• he would cook you anything you wanted to eat and wouldn't let you help him so you wouldn't force yourself

• he would get you pads or tampons

•He would send a message to his mother to ask what medication to take in case of colic

•He would rub your belly to try to reduce the pain

• He would offer to give you a massage on your back and waist.

•He would lay you on his chest so you can sleep

•He would massage to the sides of your head to try to reduce the headache

•He would treat you as if you were a baby, he would speak to you low and very sweet

• Caress your thighs sweetly once you're comfortable

•He knows that sometimes you feel a little horny, so after your nap and you feel better, he would offer to massage your breasts with the excuse "baby's are sensitive, let me take care of it."

• Once he hugs you from behind with both hands on your breasts he would start doing it "innocently"

•he would start kissing your neck and just say things like "an orgasm can help the cramps" "you'll feel better" "I promise I'll be gentle so I don't hurt you"

•It convinces you and he was right, he help reduce your pain

[frankcastleonlyfans]

Could you possibly do one where Aemond reacts to finding out that he might have to marry Daemon’s daughter? Would he be mad or weirdly happy in a way. We all know what daemon thinks of what his brother has in store for his daughter and he is not having it.

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au | aemond targaryen x daemon's daughter!oc

warnings: fluff(?), aemond is his own warning, cussing because aemond has a dirty mouth.

author's note: I'm truly obsessed about this bc I never thought about Aemond's reaction to being betrothed. This is going to be in headcanon format due most of it just being from Aemond's pov. Thank you so much for your amazing idea <3 also wrote this while listening to "the red means i love you" and i'm shipping alymond 😭

read this headcanon for context of this story

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 enjoy your reading.

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

"I know you're lying, Aegon. Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe some young maid to fuck?"

Aegon scoffed, "Well, if you don't believe me, go talk to father about it. I'm just telling you what I heard."

Aemond believed his brother was nothing but a drunk liar, so his word didn't actually meant anything.

But he went to talk to the King anyways.

While walking through the corridors, Aemond thought about what that meant to him.

He wanted to be mad about it, but it wasn't that bad.

In fact, it wasn't bad at all.

He knew Alyssa Targaryen pretty well. He knew how feisty that pretty little thing could be. She did took his eye, after all.

And Aegon wasn't lying.

"I don't hope you to understand, but our line must spread. She's a pure valyrian, and would make to you a good wif– Why are you smiling?" King Viserys questioned, raising a curious eyebrow.

Aemond chuckled, "Have you told Daemon?"

"I did... He was furious about it." Viserys confessed.

"Well, that's great! I'll give these exciting news to my betrothed, myself. I couldn't be more happy about your choice, father." Aemond left the king's chambers without discussing if Daemon agreed or not.

Aemond knew Daemon wouldn't let Alyssa marry him.

He also couldn't care less. His father was the king.

Aemond couldn't put in words the taste of satisfaction in his mouth once he knew how angry Daemon was about his union with his uncle's daughter.

The girl literally took his eye, the least she could do is marry him without complaining.

Oh, but she would be furious too. He knows she's just like her daddy.

"I figured I'd find you here." Aemond said with a smile.

Ever since Daemon gave her her own sword, Alyssa spent quite some time in the training yard when the boys weren't there.

Curiously, Aemond always knew when she was there.

"And what do you want?" Alyssa spat, slamming her sword towards a wooden target.

"I came to give you the great news! I couldn't believe my own ears when I heard it."

"Oh? Did your mother successfully try to kill anyone? I hope it was your grandsire. Gods, I hate that man." Alyssa chuckled and beheaded the target.

Aemond frowned and squinted. He wouldn't fall for her games. He was the one to tease, not her.

"Haha. You're so funny, Alyssa. I bet it wouldn't take long for me to fall for you." Aemond coaxed.

Alyssa blinked a couple of times, processing what he just said.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" Aemond smirked.

Alyssa took a deep breath before asking, "What the fuck are you talking about, One Eye?"

Aemond clicked his tongue, "Gods, you're just as fucking stupid as you're pretty. It means we're betrothed. I'd be treating my future husband with respect, if I were you."

"Are you crazy?" Alyssa hysterically laughed, "My father would have your head before letting me marry you." She pointed her sword towards the prince, "I would have your head before giving myself to you."

"Kinky." Aemond retorted and lowered her sword with the point of his index. "Who's your father to disrespect the king's orders?"

Alyssa swallowed hard. She had no answer for that. Even the dumbest girl knows the king's word is above everything. And she is no dumb girl.

She left him there and went looking for her father.

She thought about a million possibilities.

Maybe she could run away? They lived in Pentos for a while, she'd do well there.

No, Y/N wouldn't let her go alone.

What about Daeron? If she begged, maybe the king could call him back to King's Landing, so they could get married.

To be truthful, Alyssa didn't want to marry any of Alicent's kin, but anyone was better than Aemond.

But Daeron was the same age as her brother, Maegon. That was kinda disgusting.

"Did you know uncle Viserys wants to marry me to Aemond?" Alyssa stormed into her parents chambers.

Daemon's lips immediately left yours. You groaned in response.

"Maybe knock the next time, Alyssa?" You said in annoyance.

"Sorry mother, but I think what I have to say is way more important than you snogging with father." Alyssa answered with wit.

Daemon smirked, "It's okay, 'Lyssa. I'll talk to Viserys again. You know I'd die before letting this happen."

You rolled your eyes, "You're both being dramatic about it. Aemond is not that bad. He's a bit... violent, yes, but he would never hurt you. I promise you, daughter, violent men can be great lovers." You ran your fingers through your husband's little braids in his hair.

"Don't go giving her any ideas, Y/N." Daemon warned with a stern look, and you snorted.

"She's a grown woman, Daemon. There's a sword in her hand. I don't think you need to protect her anymore." You shrugged.

"Hello??? I'm still in the room, please stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Alyssa crossed her arms.

"Don't worry. I told Viserys you're not marrying Aemond, so you're not marrying Aemond. Is that clear?" Daemon asked, reassuring her.

"Yes, father."

read the second part to this story

[orangekittyenergy]

Kiss Roulette

43. A bloody kiss.

💋 I was really torn on who to do for this but my first instinct was Minthara so I'm sticking with her. (From kiss prompts here)

A Bloody Kiss - Minthara x reader (CW: blood....obvi)

You never quite got used to it. The taste of blood. Especially the taste of your own blood. A metallic bitter taste that for some unknown reason you associated with the salty taste of cheap capers.

The gash on your forehead flows freely, a steady stream of your blood leaking into your right eye and trickling down into your mouth. You spat and blinked hard; hoping you could fight the same with one eye shut.

Another spin and slash of your sword and your enemy was down. The grotesque mix of tentacles and impassive malice that you had come to know as a hallmark of a mind-flayer laying in a heap before you. You sneer at the body, relishing in the sight of your small victory, then look up as a grunt draws your attention.

Minthara is across from you, dealing her own killing blow. She pauses, in an action eerily similar to your own, just seconds before, and she gazes down at her fallen foe.

After a moment she turns, her eyes hot from battle and locks her gaze onto you. Her eyes widen just slightly as she gives you a once over. The state you must look. You blink away another drip of blood as Minthara walks over.

"You are wounded." She states and reaches up to inspect your wound.

"It's nothing." You try to seem nonchalant. "I just need to wipe it away. It's getting in my eye." Your eyes fall to the floor but everywhere you look is riddled with dirt, soot, blood, or bodies. No hope for a clean cloth here.

Minthara grabs your chin and produces a somewhat clean scrap of fabric and presses it against your forehead to stem the bleeding. Her eyes never leave yours. Her brow is furrowed. To an outside glance she would look angry. But you know better. This was her show of concern.

"There." She gives a few tentative dabs, ensuring the flow of blood has stopped. Her eyes search yours a moment more and for a split second you think she might actually be angry this time.

Before you can doubt further she crashes her lips into yours, her hand still firm on your chin. Her tongue probes your mouth as you open wider to accommodate the ferocity of her kiss. The blood mingling still in your mouth, smearing between your lips and covering her with your mess. You are happy to share it with her.

She pulls away just as quick and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. So she was worried. You try not to smile.

"Don't get sloppy with your sword." Her tone is harsh but you know the care behind it.

You give a nod and she turns. You realize the taste of blood in your mind now seems a little sweeter.

[hoe4rairai]

Dear all Raian bitches out there , let's get dirty 🤪 ... What should we write about next , please don't hold back, this blog is mainly 18+.

Things I will write about :

Almost anything / everything , if it resonates with my image of Raian as below:

In my world, Raian is :

- A straight man

- detached MF

- Selfish and self centered

- he is 27 years old now

- A recognised worldwide assassin

- He doesn't love anything but he doesn't hate many things as well.

- Introvert

- Stealth quiet person with a an extremely sharp brain .

- Not kind but understands the behaviour

- Faithful to his own beliefs

- He doesn't listen to people around him

- Stubborn and Satire, he likes to demean people around him regardless of their rank, gender, position, power... etc. he DGAF

- He has a faint idea of what love is between a man and a woman, but he doesn't care about it mostly because of his deep understanding of his personality defects and his job .

- Sex is a tool to release stress and he is ruthless to random women.

- He doesn't stick his shaft into just any hole. The dude is extremely picky and selective.

- His self-confidence at this point is justified, and no questions asked .

-His self-awareness,though, oh well, let's say he has it on a completely different level 😏

- He is a freak

- He developed tolerance and patience

- Human emotions now can be tolerated to an extend but he will still ignore them for just the fun of it or he really DGAF .

- He creates his own drama when he wants and ENDS it when he wants. THE POWER

- No friends yet, but Ohma

- Developed decent social behaviour but still unpredictable .

- Never has mood swings, he literally has 4 moods switches ( Kill mood, Extreem Focused mood, Fuck Mood, Neutral mood )

- He developed deeper understanding of life and death

- He always had deep understanding of responsibility towards the Goals of his clan.

- He always had a strong judgment of character and 99.9% always right.

- Assassin vs 6th sense = more like 1000 volt high

- Developed a high level of mental control , probably due to his overly powerful physical strength and devilish abilities. He BELIEVES no one is like him .

- Still a stuck up

- He smokes , oral hygiene is on a decent level.

- He doesn't drink, only probably few times in a year if he felt like it and he doesn't drink alone.

- He developed a keen interest in fine expensive things. He is not a spender but when he does he does big .

- He has a sports car, a sports bike , a condo outside the clan village but no one knows anything about it . His condo might look something like that .

- He is still a secretive MF

- He secretly misses his gramps but fractionally and once every blue moon.

- Still no pets yet

- Still no hobbies yet

- Dominance Exceeded and its Doomsday for anyone entering his rang if he is either in his Kill or Fuck mood ... HOLY SHEETOOOZ

- Still not good in aftercare, but that might change as we progress

- Developed a better sense of fashion , still not trendy, but rather, his style speaks for what he is, mono shades of black, brown, dark grey, and dark blue. White is his go-to when he sleeps or works out. The white shade contributes to his lucid state of mind.

- His new scar doesn't bother him for shit , he actually thinks it made him more attractive which I fucking AGREE

- Taste in women, a nice hole to fuck until that one shows up and the chase shall start ..

- Breeding is always a goal, and he will imprint and breed, not anytime soon though, not before the Bugs are completely wipped off the face of the earth till the last one of them.

- Older, Secretly wise and ultimately a Titan with his new 20kg ancient magical sword that only he can control .

...... ...... I GOT CARRIED AWAY .... .....

[katyspersonal]

Hi there

I saw your post about Rellana & Messmer and i really want to know your interpretation of their relationship. Many insist on them being unrequited love but i couldn't really find any evidences that support this interpretation except Rellana's sword description in Eng because the Japanese version is different as it's says the fire & moon were always together .

Anon I am sorry I am so late fdhshf The usual: I was waiting to get to Messmer myself first after doing like 600 side things and then I forgor 😔

But for starters, a couple of funny things regarding the topic! First: I was actually dead sure they were canonically an item because of some thoughts I've heard from the fans early on!! And I got further into this confusion because I've misinterpreted Messmer's emblem as Fire + Twin Moon (since it is two circles overlapping and I first met it in the Castle Ensis), instead of Fire + Two Serpents that it IS! XD

Second: I was instantly confused by the description of Rellana's helmet, because Rennala has brown hair in both concept art portrait and the ingame model. So, the long black hair could not have been a cute parting gift, right....? Well, we resolved it with the help of analysing Japanese text more (this post ( x )), and turned out Rennala DID give her own hair! x) I suppose her hair, or the part that sticks from under the crown, became brown under prolonged strong Amber Egg's light exposure (basically same as sunlight)! However for a month I believed that Rennala simply helped Rellana to tweak her appearance with Amber Egg's magic to charm Messmer better because they knew long black hair was his taste HFSDHFDSGSDG XDDD

So, I was convinced that they were soooo married that they were proudly putting the symbol of alliance of Fire and Moon everywhere. The wording in English 'chase after Messmer' and fanart didn't help x) So.. now it had cleared up a little. As for the Japanese text you're referring to, me and @heraldofcrow asked someone else about it for clarification!

Japanese text breakdown from them is,

Ok, for the first one, she told me that the sentence/description, “ 月と火は、ここでは常に共にあった” has the word “常に” in it for “always.” (It’s “tsuneni” when Anglicized). This means “always, constantly.” So that one is correct. You have verify by even just looking up “tsuneni” in a Japanese dictionary, which I did. Seems right. So, yes the translation is “Moon and fire were constantly/always together here.”

I feel like this is further backed up by a certain other thing within Carians:

Notice how both swords also have identical skill; the use of sorcery with a normal attack after assuming the stance, and the use of fire with a strong attack! Both deal normal, magic and fire damage types! The only thing different is that since then, the celestial body representing the 'sorcery' part changed from stars to Moon, however Carians do not forget their roots!

So all flames, Messmer's included in the end, were an anathema to the Erdtree for the vision of the Cardinal Sin of burning it once (Fire Monks' incantations, Candletree Wooden Shield)!

I see it as Rellana deciding it was bullshit sentiment and actually sorcerers, whether Stars or Moon ones, were supposed to be allies to fire powers, like their origins intended! Liurnia/Carians and the Erdtree became allies after the war ended with Rennala's and Radagon's marriage... Whereas at first Rellana was okay with following the new obligation, for one reason or another she decided to REJECT THE MODERNITY AND EMBRACE THE TRADITION!

I am going to cuss localisation team again, because in Japanese original, the word that is here 'succor' is 癒 (月の輝きが、その男を癒せぬと知っていても) which means to heal! So, the sentiment is, her knowing that she could not fix him the horror plaguing him could not be treated, even with the magic/knowledge of Carians!

Black Knight Commander Andreas and his son Huw stood by Messmer until they've learned WHY Marika "abandoned her son". At this rate I need a T-Shirt that says 'You could never be Tanith' because I need it OFTEN in this DLC hfsdhfds . If Rellana knew of his affliction and still chose to stand by him, that puts her on the level with his Fire Knights, and even his snakes! And we know that Messmer still does need friends, not just his mom.

^ Unlike with the Cleanrot Knights of Malenia getting subjected to her Scarlet Rot by effect, Messmer's flame cannot infect others and it is just a curse for him and his two snake friends. However, Fire Knights attempted to share the burden with him and at least find the satisfaction in using his fire as is! Rellana is similar, because her fire sword IS serpentine and uses his fire:

(Video by Zullie the Witch ( x ))

After having all this context and clearing up my confusion, I think them having unrequited love is possible, but in the other way around! Say instead of her having "chased" him and him not feeling much in return, she had more ideals-fueled reasons to seek him and HE is the one hurting from not being loved the way he wishes!

According to Rogier sky sorceries of either king and the Erdtree were enemies, but sorcery and fire, on the other hand... And an "evil" kind of fire as well; the Fell God is literally named that, it is known as Flame of Ruin, even the Fire Giants carrying it for their god were said to have been burdened by it and it was an anathema to the Erdtree! Marika was not able to overcome her fear before the horror within Messmer although she tried her best to love him, but Rellana maybe decided 'yeah no shade to my sister's tastes but the plea to the Erdtree is kinda dumb, we sorcerers are supposed to be their enemies but allies to all kinds of evil fire! *looks at FF* EXCEPT THAT ONE' fsdhfds She could not heal him, but OG description of her sword makes it sound as though there is a "bigger idea" behind standing with him than just liking him. Aliance of sorcery and fire. She sees standing with him like more natural order and fate!

Messmer, on the other hand, would like to be liked (by her) on a more "primitive" level, without all that historical and philosophical nonsense! He is a person, not a symbol! ..but at the same time, he sorta knows he can't be. It is not just a problem with her, it is a problem with... everyone, really. He is carrying this curse and hates his fire, and to truly understand him would be to experience it the same way as he does. Something Fire Knights attempted to do, but it didn't work. But at the same time, he feels like even if he could infect people with his flame, he would not want to subject her to it in particular. With the Knights their honor kinda implies giving him their all, but despite her also being his blade he sees her as an equal! Someone who is better off not being burdened by his curse. Additionally, he already second-guesses whether he ruined her life by effect by """making""" her lose her right as a princess just to stand with him! Yeah, true, he needs Melina to lecture him on people's agency, but those with very low/negative opinion on selves OFTEN believe that they have more power over people than they actually do. Like they are "manipulating" them by literally just standing there (menacingly), and everything is always their fault..

So yeah! I think Rellana is a little 'clueless' about their bond, nor Messmer is doing enough to express his feelings! She sees them as Moon and Fire, not as Rellana and Messmer, and seems pretty content this way! He, on the other hand, would probably actually charm her romantically if he was not so gloomy and reclusive and put in conscious effort! He has a lot of charisma he is not using to get bitches when he CAN!! But he bounces between the 'why can't she like me in a more personal way?' vs 'wait, why WOULD she? it is better if she doesn't. damn I am an awful person as usual for wanting such thing.' ...🙄

They both have the capacity of developing relationship, but if Rellana is feeling attracted she is clueless about it simply because she won't think of it without being prompted to. With Messmer, he becomes STUPID vulnerable and self-conscious for multiple reasons pondering upon forming a bond this deep with her! I know it is an overused comedy trope, but picture Moonrithyll and [insert a Fire Knight] seeing the clear tension between the two and facepalming about how dumb they are about it XD Or, alternatively, trying to match-make them so they'd stop being so embarrassing and just fuck already lmaoooo fdghfsdg

__________________

Conclusion: both are too occupied with their own stuff to make a conscious effort towards it, but the potential and the tension is here! He has more talent for good romantic gestures and just the right tender things to say than he (or anyone else) realises that would make Rellana blush and stumble. Act slightly tsundereish, even, because she is not good at the "soft" things. She, on the other hand, is on more blunt side and her expressions of attraction would be passionate, and mostly vulgar I think. And that'd make HIM blush, because he is not good at THIS stuff! His style is some sentimental sweet line, her style is complimenting his slim ass or whatever fsdfsg Strong romantic energy from Messmer who dies at sexual commentaries, and strong sexual energy from Rellana who is no longer so tough at some nice poetry. Because they're "opposites" in such ways, there is a lot of awkwardness, but also a lot of dynamic!

(+A funnier interpretation is Messmer being romantic asexual that'd be still willing to have sex with someone he loves, and Rellana is aromantic sexual that'd still be okay with cuddles and kisses and stuff from someone she desires! They have each their own way to love and try to make it work. Just a more 'direct' version of the dynamic I've described previously, is this anything? xd)