#Silk Kites
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cardinalphlox · 4 months ago
Text
Speed darte for @bogcreacher, the sillies
Tumblr media
My OC Fatetaker, she's a talker and lacks the ability to feel awkward /hj Bonus:
Tumblr media
Fatetaker more like Mapmaker hahaha she really likes maps
76 notes · View notes
snorkled-orca · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Marble and @bogcreacher's Red Kite's date night!
aka
Local dragon forgets to study art of romance, asks worst question and leaves date dumbfounded
Marble should learn how to converse first sadly, but they could be good friends... maybe 😬
Version without text
Tumblr media
62 notes · View notes
nejishadow · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Pierce tries to convince Silk that Extreme Gear is really cool, but he is not convinced.
She let him borrow some gloves and goggles but he just might sneak out when she isn't looking
Base by GaboRabo
Mostly did this to force myself to draw something because there was a 26 day gap between the Haze art and this. I drew nothing in the inbetween.
(Since Silk was designed before Clutch came out to give us a standard for opossums, I updated his ears and muzzle a smidge here to fit in line with that better. If anyone questions why his ears aren't perfectly in line, he's not 100% opossum, begone with ye)
2 notes · View notes
monsterbutch · 2 years ago
Text
unfortunately i have rediscovered the fact that i hate the combat in don't starve. thus leading me to dying a lot
2 notes · View notes
aerialarchive · 4 months ago
Text
Kite split attempts
silks
September 2024
0 notes
ice-creamforbreakfast · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
🪩Download🪩(Patreon - Free from 29th January 2024)
January is a bit rubbish (my birthday aside) as we're just following the glitter explosion that is Christmas and Hogmonay, so I thought it would be fun to do a 70s Glam inspired set to brighten things up a little. It was a very popular runner-up on a recent poll and I did promise, so here it is!!
Descriptions below:
Fire & Rain Gown - A low-cut, glittered-out gown that's perfect for those glitzy parties or if you're Cher going to Tescos.
Fire & Rain Dress - A kite-hem version of the Fire & Rain gown. Perfect for those glitzy parties or if you're Cher going to Tescos...in warmer weather.
Jaclyn Jumpsuit - A halter-jumpsuit with a rope belt and two-tone options. A conversation starter at any party...unless someone else is wearing it in a nicer colour.
Jackie Romper - A sister romper to the Jaclyn jumpsuit. See above description, but in warmer weather.
Manero Shirt - Show them your moves in this silk shirt! This shirt is sewn up the front, because sims found it simply irresistable and several buttons were ripped and went flying on our prototypes.
Night Fever Flares - Bust a move in these flares! Sure, they're so tight you might bust something else, but you never know until you try!
Show the ladies, gents and nonbinary hotties that you've got money to spend with this big, gold chain!
What does the 70s glamazon and 90s sitcom mom have in common? A fabulous bobbed blowout just like this. Show off your staple style from discos through to diapers!
Dazzle your friends and temporarily stun your enemies in this incredibly polished earring and necklace set inlaid with your favourite precious stones.
4K notes · View notes
hurtmyfavsthanks · 7 months ago
Note
Dude I see so much of average drugged whumpee just being spacey and out of it, but I raise you, a drugged whumpee that’s happy. A whumpee dosed with a euphoria drug that has them wonderfully higher than a kite, laughing, looking at streaming shimmering hallucinations around them, blissfully relaxed and unaware that whumper is behind it
bonus points if whumper flees from wherever they’ve been hiding, leaving a happily drugged whumpee behind as a “present” for caretaker
(content warning: nudity, the vague references to non-con touching)
YES. YES. YES.
I ADORE happy little drugged out whumpees! And Caretaker finding them like that? Especially when it’s such a far cry from whumpee’s typical personality? I could explode.
It’s all about the dichotomy between their behavior and their situation. Anything would be more fitting. Helpless terror as they shiver in the corner, hiding from horrors only they can see. Numb listlessness because their body is overburdened by exhaustion. Those all make sense, they fit.
But joy? Near manic euphoria, a smile stretching across their pale and dirty face? They’re not screaming or crying, but laughing, a drunken giggle that bounces against cold walls.
I think there’s an extra layer of helplessness there that is absolutely amazing. They’ve been stripped of their freedom, their dignity, and even their ability to properly respond to their situation. They’re not even given the right to anger or sadness. They’re trapped in an unthinking joy, and they can’t even begin to understand why it’s a bad thing.
And left as a prize? Absolutely. I love the idea of Caretaker finding them like that, at their most vulnerable. Presented like a trophy. Wrapped in thin silk and rope too weak to bind them under normal conditions, bruises peppering otherwise bare skin.
It’s humiliating, it’s painful, but Whumpee has no awareness of that. They simply feel good, relaxed and peaceful in a way they haven’t been for months. They’re barely aware of the exposed state they’re in, too out of it to even feel shame. They can’t remember the mocking words Whumper spoke as they pushed the needle into Whumpee’s skin, can’t remember the sicking mix of fury and terror they felt in those first few minutes, laying there with nothing to do but wait for the drug to kick in. All that’s left in their head is pink, sparkling joy.
Finally, Caretaker arrives. Whumpee doesn’t register the look of horror on Caretaker’s face. They barely respond as they’re searched for injuries, barely respond to Caretaker’s presence at all. When they do respond, it’s with slow, slurred speech, the words incoherent and muddled with uncontrollable laughter.
It sends a chill up Caretaker’s spine. It’s a state they’d neve expect to find Whumpee in, a state Whumpee would never allow themselves to be found in. It's frightening, seeing Whumpee act so unlike themselves.
Knowing that Whumper was around them in this state makes Caretaker sick. Knowing that Whumper had them at their most vulnerable, was free to mock them, touch them, do anything, and Caretaker wasn’t there to stop it, makes them feel sick.
It makes them sick to think this is all part of some game to Whumper. It makes them sick to think that they’re playing along, that saving Whumpee is somehow part of Whumper’s plan. But there’s nothing else Caretaker can do.
Caretaker removes their coat and drapes it over Whumpee’s body. Carefully, they pick Whumpee up, not trusting them to walk in their state. Whumpee’s body is warm despite being left on the cold floor, skin flush as the drug works through their system. Whumpee’s shivering, though they don’t seem to notice that either.
Whumpee presses themselves into Caretaker’s chest, humming contently. Caretaker holds them close with trembling fingers, and swears to never let them go again.
458 notes · View notes
korasonata · 1 year ago
Text
JUST finished Cleo’s first stream for Pirates SMP, and the amount of times I just fully burst out laughing like—
Sausage: *kisses Scott on sight*
Owen: *throwing himself in front of Sausage * Hi. 😏
Scott: I like a forward man 😉
Sausage: Where do you get these? This silk?
Scott: Thank you, thank you…
Sausage: Can I touch it?
Scott: Yeah of course. You can touch whatever you want 😏
Oli: I’ll give you 5 gold to tell me what’s beneath that patch.
Cleo: Look my eye got stolen by a monkey, ok?!
Oli: Oh! Was it a my cock?
Sausage: WHAT?!
Oli: A ma’ cock!
Sausage: THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PRONOUNCE IT!
*Owenge_Juice becomes a Heron*
Scott/Cleo/El: (chanting) ONE OF US! ONE OF US! ONE OF US!
Owen: …are you allowed to change your mind afterwards?
Scott: NO! :D
El: So you’re like a lone wolf?
Owen: Uh…kind of. More like a lone sea dog.
El: Come on, give us a bark.
Scott: Yeah!
Owen: Uh…I only bark in certain situations…
Scott: Oh. What situations?
Owen: …uh, oKAY! WHICH WAY—
El: This is my bed over here. There is one right next to it, you can take that.
Owen: Perfect! Thanks!
El: I do make really loud noises in my sleep.
Scott + Owen: Oh???
El: Yeah.
Cleo: Yeah, but not the noises you would expect either.
Cleo (about Olive): They said they’d got invitations from Herons and Nightingales I think?
Scott: Yeah it was Heron, Nightingales, and Kestrals, they didn’t get Kites.
Cleo: Who DOES get Kites unless you’re a psychopath.
Scott: Owen got all 4.
Owen: Yeah…umm…
Cleo: Oh…
*Cleo gets everyone drunk*
Cleo: Ah, you’re all lightweights!
El: *flirting with Water* Oh, you look so lovely in this light right now!
Water: Oh El!
El: Lovely!
Scott: I feel I can take more damage. I’m gonna go jump off the cliff guys!!
Cleo: Maybe one day you can buy a real hat!
El: Well I will, but you know, I just think— I don’t see anybody else having made one when they’ve not got one. Gonna get a wet head.
Cleo: *absolutely lost it*
Cleo: Gotta get the alcohol. Otherwise I’m gonna kill someone. It’s fine.
Oil (Distant): ARE WE SURE THIS IS THE WAY?!
Cleo: Scott’s sure it’s the way!
Oli (distant distress): I— DON’T LIKE IT!
Aimsey: Honestly I’m hoping for the best! I hope he does!
Oli: Ya Damn Herons!
Cleo: You don’t have to follow us, ok?!
Oli: Well unfortunately my Kestrals already ran off
Aimsey: This is what I mean! I— I’m hoping you get this! I’ve dunked this too many times!
Cleo: It’s very Kestral of you to just wait until the end and have other people to do it for you!
Aimsey: I’m a Kite! I’m a Kite! Thank you!
Cleo: Well, yeah you know what? It’s very typical for Kites to do it too.
Aimsey: Oh well is it now? Is it then?!
Cleo: Oh yeah yeah! It is it is!
Aimsey: Do you wanna duel?! You wanna duel when we get back, Cleo?! You wanna duel?!
Cleo: Do I want to punch you in the face a bunch? I do. But I’m drunk. I don’t know what you want from me.
Oli: There we go, I’ve got a side angle. I’m overtaking you, Heron! SLOOOOWWW
Cleo: *cuts him off*
Oli: No stop crashing! You’re crashing my port side!
Cleo: Well you know—
Oli: GET OFF ME PORT SIDE!
Cleo: NO ONE WANTS TO BE ON YOUR PORT SIDE, OK?!
Oli: Everyone wants to be on my port side!
Cleo: This is very far away. Like I haven’t heard Scott this whole time. I feel like Scott’s monologuing.
Aimsey: I can hear you though, Cleo!
Cleo: I hear YOU. And I—
Aimsey: You love that, right? You love hearing me. 😏
Cleo: *singing* What shall we do with a drunken sailor! What shall we do with a drunken sailor! What shall we— *talking* apparently put her in a boat and let her follow Scott, that’s what you need to do with a drunken sailor.
Oli: AIMSEY! AIMSEY! AIMSEY! STOP SINGING!
Aimsey: *distant singing*
Cleo: Oh I can’t hear Aimsey, that’s good.
Oli: CAUSE I HATE HERONS!
Cleo (a Heron): AIMSEY’S NOT A HERON!
SILENCE
Oli: …then what are they?
Cleo: They’re a Kite.
Oli: OH STUPID KITES! Herons, you’re alright. KITES. Imbeciles.
Owen (talking to chat): No, there’s no canon lives, chat. Except in specific cases. *whispering* check with Twitter.
Cleo: YOU’RE BREAKING MY EMERSION OWEN!
Owen: Sorry!
Olive: Hey! Where does a pirate go to school? HARRRvard!
Cleo: …You’re out of the faction.
Olive: Oh no! Not on my second day! H—how does a pirate protect themself? ARRRmour.
Cleo: …I’m gonna run a vote…
Olive: No it’s fine, I’ll go join the Kite’s or something, it’s fine.
Cleo: Oh dear.
Olive: What do you call it when two pirates are in a draw? A staleMATEY.
Cleo: OUT! OUT OF THE FACTION!
*Cleo walks up to a female NPC*
Cleo: Hello sweet lady 😏
Other things I also enjoyed
•Scar managing to get a Jellie and literally everyone swarming around to pet her
•Scott, Aimsey, Cleo, and Oli sailing together and all of them singing a completely different pirate song simultaneously.
•The entire dynamic between Cleo and Aimsey
•Cleo being HELLA sus of Cruppy the entire time right up until Scott hands it a beer and it drinks and suddenly Cleo’s just like actually you know what? You’re alright. We cool.
•Cleo being given babysitting duty and then literally within 5 minutes pawning off the child with a rival faction
•Cleo using being drunk as an excuse for everything. Lag? Everyone is drunk because she keeps giving out alcohol. Server crash? Don’t mind her she’s just vomiting in the corner of a pub somewhere. No tools? She needs the iron to make kegs for MORE alcohol. Oh you wanna fight? I would but I’m drunk. Shit babysitter? I’m a drunk what do you want from me? She signs off for the day and her excuse for her absence is literally just “imma go get blackout drunk for a solid 14 hours”. The fact that the excuse works lore wise for almost every situation.
•THE ANIMATICS
•The LORE. JUST ALL THE LORE
Solid start. 10/10
916 notes · View notes
thunderstruck9 · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Ai Weiwei (Chinese, 1957), Men Shen Kite, 2014. Silk and bamboo, 50 ½ x 47 ½ in.
133 notes · View notes
the-griffons-saddlebag · 7 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media
💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Windswept Kite
Wondrous item, uncommon ___ This blue silk kite is 5 feet across and is attached to a 60-foot string. It weighs 1 pound and can be folded into a 6-inch square. While holding the kite, you can use a bonus action to toss it aloft and speak its command word. When you do, you also choose how much string to let out, between 10 and 60 feet. The kite then expands to its full size (if it was folded) and creates a cylinder of moderate wind of 10 miles per hour, which allows it to continue flying. The cylinder’s height and diameter is the same as the amount of let-out string, up to 60 feet. The kite and top of the cylinder remain centered above your location. You can use another bonus action to speak the flying kite’s command word to end the effect and cause it to fall softly back into your hand. You can change the wind’s direction at the start of each of your turns for the duration. You can use the kite to create this wind for up to 1 hour, all at once or in several shorter intervals, each one using a minimum of 1 minute from the duration. The effect ends early if you are no longer holding the string, at which point it flies up to 1d10 times 10 feet in a random direction before landing on the ground. Dealing 5 slashing damage to the string (AC 15) severs it, causing the kite to fly away as if you let go of the string. The severed string can later be reattached by holding its ends together for 1 minute. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!
140 notes · View notes
the-californicationist · 1 year ago
Text
The Rush
Tumblr media
MDNI/18+
You drag your tight-laced bodyguard, John Price, out to the club. He gets a bit of a contact high from your molly, and lets you ride his thigh to the rhythm.
TW: drug use, thigh riding, come on clothing
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
Troye Sivan’s “Rush” was playing in the background, the heavy bass thumping through the hollow of your chest, and you were just beginning to feel the effects of the little blue pill you took in the car. The lights of the club were chaotic, brilliantly so, and you let the music guide you. But, you were lonely.
Your bodyguard was sulking off to the side, dressed like a cop even in casual wear, gripping his gun like it was going to fly away. You loved to bother this man. It didn’t hurt that he was fine as hell, built like a bull, and some type of ex-special forces bloke. It was those eyes, though. Something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world.
You sauntered over to him, teasing him for the nth time tonight.
“Hey, John,” you rubbed yourself on him like a cat, “You having fun yet, big boy?”
He smiled with a little huff, scanning the room,
“No, ma’am. Workin’. Fun is for when I get off the clock.”
“I can get you off…” you had finally done enough to earn a long, hard stare, “Maybe not the clock, but…”
You smiled slyly and ran your hands up his shirt, feeling the hair and sweat sticking to his skin. His belly jumped under your hand, giving him away. He didn’t stop you, though, so you kept playing with him, letting his body keep you warm as you sweated out your drugs.
You were high as a kite, and all of his texture was making you hyper focused, stimulating yourself with the crease of his muscles, the scent of his cologne.
“Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night, ma’am?”
He tried to look at the crowd again, but your writhing form and your exploring hands were a little too distracting. You turned away from him, planting your plump arse against his crotch, grinding against him, hoping to feel his cock.
You reached up and looped your hands around his shoulders, digging into the meat of him, finding his bones,
“No, sir, I don’t. I think you should dance with me.”
You must’ve been higher than you thought. As the room pulsed around you, beating at you like a heart, you could have sworn you heard him moan. You whined your hips, trying to make him hard. Then, you went from feeling soft, loose fabric to something else entirely.
Surely…
You rolled around his hip again, just to be certain.
Surely, that monster was his gun and not his dick?
It was your turn to moan, and you did it with abandon. No one could hear you anyway, and the whole club was focused on their own experiences, not on you and your fucking obvious narc.
“Is that you, baby? My God, you are a big boy, aren’t you?”
He didn’t say anything, but he did place a hand on your hip, holding you noncommittally. It was too soft to be a push, but it was firm enough for you to feel his warm hand through the silk of your mini dress.
You grabbed it and brought it up the front of your body, bringing his palm to your breast, letting him feel the tight hardness of your nipple and the unbelievable softness of your flesh.
You heard it again. John had moaned into your ear, you were sure of it. As if to confirm your suspicions, he gave you the most delicate squeeze, and then released you.
You turned back around to find a very different man looking down at you. His eyes were blown, and he was breathing heavily through his nose.
“Don’t you wanna dance with me?” You begged.
Grabbing his fingers in your small hand, you brought them not to your breast but lower this time, under the short hem of your dress. You were still grinding against each other to the relentless beat, and it wasn’t until you tucked his hand all the way down between your legs that you watched his rhythm falter.
His fingers collided with your wet folds, slipping into them easily, and he reached deeper on his own accord, exploring your hole and all of the warm, soaking things it was promising him.
You cried out, planting a kiss to his collarbone, letting him finger fuck you as you grinded into each other, stirring up an intense flood of emotions and feelings, making your high feel like it would carry you to the ends of the earth together.
It was intoxicating to watch him untie himself from the ropes of his duties, and you could feel him humping into you on purpose, now, thrusting over the curve of your belly with his enormous length as he fingered you in the crowded club. The blue and green lights that lasered across his eyes made him look like a demon, snarling and hungry for you and everything you kept secret.
“How about you dance right here?” Price purred.
He took his hand from you and tasted you. Price licked you from his fingers, just like he was flipping the page of a book. Then, he raised up his knee and shoved it, hard, between your legs, giving you something wide and solid to grind on. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his thigh, or tried to anyway, holding yourself steady.
Your fingertips brushed against the sensitive head of his cock, long enough to have reached your grip, and you gasped. Straddling him was a whole new experience, and your drug-soaked mind was reeling from it. It overwhelmed you, and as you used one hand to palm his cock on the outside of his jeans, you used your other to help rock your hips back and forth across the denim, reveling in the texture.
His head fell back when you touched him with your hand, and you smiled, praising him,
“You feel so damn huge.”
John’s eyes focused back on you in a flash, and you moved together, surging when the beat rose, and collapsing together when it fell, the two of you caught in its current.
He wrapped his huge hands around your waist and held you down on him firmly, keeping your pace for you.
His smile turned sinister as he commanded you,
“Let go. Let me.”
You did as he bade, wrapping the hand that had been steadying you around his hulking shoulder instead. His grip was painfully tight around your body, and his fingertips dug cruelly into your arse cheeks, pressing your wet pussy down into his muscle and bone.
He forced you back and forth along his thigh, picking up speed to match the drum and bass. You felt him stoke and blow at the fire within your core, and you looked up to him with a face you knew was full of your hungry lust.
“Is that what you needed, hm?”
“I need this thick cock, John.”
“Come for me, and I’ll give it to you, darlin’,” he promised darkly, leaning down to growl his words right into your ear.
You sent back a long moan into his, letting him drive your hips and rub your clit against him. You felt the wetness of the denim beneath you, and you knew you were soaking a spot into his pants.
“I’m getting you all wet,” you whined into his neck, licking along his throat just as he was kissing yours, sucking on your sensitive skin.
“Doesn’t matter,” he grunted, ruthless in his pace, “I’ve got you.”
The lights and sounds and colors and smell of him all invaded your mind. It was too much, and it was not enough. Everything was swirling together and you were floating through it, letting it carry you along like a stray leaf down a stream, buoyant and vulnerable.
But, John was there. He anchored you to him, letting your high run you wild while he kept you safe, locked in his hands. The molly was making you emotional, and when you started to come, you weren’t sure if it was from his physical efforts or from his delicate care.
You held onto his cock like a lifeline, stroking him steadily for comfort. It felt so good to press into his swollen head with your palm. He was so warm, like a glowing torch beneath your fingers. You wanted to see it.
You lost the pacing, but he kept it for you, grunting with every push and pull of your body, sounding as if he was coming with you as you tumbled over your peak, whimpering and mewling for him, pliant as a petal in his hands.
“John, please… oh, fuck!”
“I know, baby, I know. I know. I know…” He chanted to you. His voice invaded your mind and the club fell away. It was just you and John in the blackness of your mind.
Under your hand, you felt his cock jump at you, leaping toward you out of the thick cloth that trapped it to his body. Then, you felt a wetness soaking through at his tip, and you rubbed it faster, encouraging him, hoping he would come with you. The wet spot grew, spanning out in a small puddle, staining the fabric darkly.
His teeth were on you then, holding you at your throat, not biting, but not letting go. His cries were a symphony of sound, and they made your entire nervous system light up. You felt incredible as you listened to him coming, ruining his jeans as you ruined them as well, making him look like he’d spilled a drink all over himself in very conspicuous spots.
As he came down, he was laughing, softly, chuckling from sheer disbelief. You’d wrung him out like a cloth, and the ragged sigh that came from his throat told you so.
He helped you off of his knee, careful not to hurt you. He fixed the edge of your dress so that it fell where it meant to, and then he looked down to survey the damage.
You didn’t like the sobering look on his face, and you’d do anything to keep him in your thrall. So, you grabbed his hand and led him out back to where your limo was parked. Pushing through the mass of writhing bodies just made you want to be closer to him.
You asked the driver to take you home, straddling John’s lap on the seat, eager for round two. You heard the privacy screen roll up and you smiled. You found your purse and pulled out your last two pills, sticking both of them in your mouth. Then, you leaned down to kiss him, feeding him one.
He swallowed it, to your surprise.
“I thought you’d protest about being on the clock, baby…” you started to unbutton his shirt, playing with his nipples when you found them, rubbing your fingers through his thick hair.
He kissed you again, a little more chastely this time, and peeked down at his watch,
“It’s 0300, ma’am. I’m a free man.”
“Turn the music up, then,” you said, kissing his neck as he used the remote to turn up the volume, letting your shared high carry you all the way home.
+=+=+=+=+=+=+
Okay, listen. Just hear me out for a second, okay. Okay, look… lol 😂 I have been listening to Troye Sivan’s “Rush” all freaking season and every time I listen to it, all I can imagine is gruff, huffy, serious John Price on the dance floor with you as you slowly convince him to let loose and dance-fuck you. I will not be explaining myself further!!! It is burned into my mind. 😂 I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please. Sorry!!!
262 notes · View notes
genshin-impact-updates · 1 year ago
Text
Web Event "Dancing Beasts and Soaring Kites" Now Online: Take Part to Obtain Primogems and Other In-Game Rewards
Tumblr media
>> Click to Take Part in Event <<
Dancing Beasts to Wave in the New, and Soaring Kites for Blessings Too!
The Lantern Rite is here, bringing happiness, prosperity, and good fortune~
〓Event Duration〓
February 8, 2024 – February 17, 2024 23:59 (UTC+8)
*Rewards cannot be claimed after the event ends. Please claim them in time.
〓Eligibility〓
Travelers who have reached Adventure Rank 10 or above can participate in this event.
〓Event Description〓
During the event, you can log in to Genshin Impact daily, claim Commission Rewards, consume Original Resin, and complete other missions to obtain the event item: Pale Yellow Silk Paper.
Pale Yellow Silk Paper can be used to unlock the various sections of the event and to search for the correct options. Once you choose the correct option, you'll be able to obtain Primogems and other in-game rewards.
〓Event Details〓
1. You can obtain the event item: Pale Yellow Silk Paper through the following methods: Complete missions such as logging into Genshin Impact every day, claiming Commission Rewards 2 times daily, and using a total of 40 Original Resin daily to obtain the corresponding amount of Pale Yellow Silk Paper.
2. Daily missions refresh at 04:00 (Server Time) each day. Unclaimed Pale Yellow Silk Paper will also be cleared by then. Please claim and use it in time. Claimed Pale Yellow Silk Paper will not be cleared.
3. A certain amount of Pale Yellow Silk Paper can be used to unlock different sections. There are a total of 5 sections in the event, which are located on different stages. You can click the Suanni and Crane buttons on the home page to switch between different stages and enter the corresponding sections.
4. After unlocking a section, you can play it multiple times until you've selected the correct option to obtain in-game rewards.
5. In each section, there are a total of three options to choose from. After you've chosen an option, you can flip it over to see the companion or item hidden behind.
6. Once you've flipped over the correct option, you'll have completed the challenge and will be able to obtain in-game rewards. If you flip over the wrong one, the companion or item behind will stay on the stage. You can continue flipping over the remaining options until you've selected the correct one in order to obtain in-game rewards.
7. If you leave halfway through, your progress will not be saved but your Pale Yellow Silk Paper will not be consumed either. You can try again multiple times.
*If Travelers try to visit the event at around 04:00 (Server Time), which is when the daily missions refresh, they may encounter a brief network error. Please refresh the page if you encounter this error.
〓Event Rewards〓
After you've unlocked all of the sections and completed the challenges, you'll be able to obtain Primogems ×120, Mystic Enhancement Ore ×10, Hero's Wit ×10, and Mora ×70,000. Also, after completing three sections and their challenges, you'll obtain a special reward: the blueprint for the Serenitea Pot Furnishing "Valley Store: The Leisure of Tea."
*The in-game rewards will be distributed via in-game mail. The mail will expire after 30 days, so don't forget to claim the rewards in time.
*This web event is provided purely for entertainment. It is not indicative of any related gameplay features in Genshin Impact.
129 notes · View notes
simp2537 · 5 months ago
Note
If you do poly character x reader x characters, can you do poly niko and crystal dating a mermaid reader, please
Mermaid Lagoon
a/n : this is my first dead boy detective oneshot and I’m so excited!!! This show has quickly become one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy!!😊
Warnings: David eww, mermaid killings, Niko’s dad mentioned, Angie the angelfish
Niko x fem!reader x Crystal
Tumblr media
You never imagined you fall in love with a human, nonetheless two human girls. They’d found you during there case on Angie the Angelfish. Initially the dead boy detectives believed that you, the only mermaid that resided in the mermaid lagoon that connected to the sea were to blame.
They had quickly captured you in an enchanted net and questioned you rather sharply. Unfortunately for them you had an alibi, you had been entertaining a group of Port Townsan’s children after they found your Lagoon.
Fortunately for the dead boys you were kind enough to help them with there problem, especially because many of the children you knew would be going to the kite festival. As you helped you bonded rather quickly with the white haired girl, Niko Sasaki.
She was sweet and so bubbly. She always asked you questions about your lagoon, your tail, how your hair was always dry. Her girlfriend however didn’t seem to like you every much. She was always moving away when you came close. After Charles threw the Nightnurse off the cliff you thought they would no longer need you.
But Edwin, the very tall and pale dead boy insisted that you remain with them just in case they had any need of a mermaid. Niko let you move into her room above the tongue and tail shop.
It’s often you don’t sleep at night, to many nightmare waiting to happen. Mermaids don’t exactly need a lot of sleep anyways. On one of the many nights you stand on the roof you find Crystal there. Her eyes red and puffy, her hands shaking gently.
She obviously did see you, or hear you. Slowly you approached her, placing your own incredible soft hand on her. She jerked her body slightly as she looked at you. She went to wipe her tears but you were faster.
You gently brushed your thumbs under eyes with a gentle smile. You’re perfect s/c skin shinning iridescently under the moonlight. She doesn’t stop crying, her body continued to shake. You brought her into your chest slowly rubbing her back.
Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay
You weren’t sure why you started to sing to her. Maybe it was because this was what your mother had done for you once. When you fears became to great and you couldn’t sleep.
Conversing with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again
My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold There is nothing can console me, But my jolly sailor bold
Her breathing started to calm as you lulled her away from her horrible thoughts. Her hand found it way above your racing heart. You’d never held someone so close before.
You hadn’t held anyone in so long. The feeling of her warmth pressed against your colder body was nice. Strange in a way you couldn’t explain.
After she’d calmed down she looked up at you. Her eyes were red and puffy but no longer it a river of tears fall from them.
“Are you alright?” You keep your voice calm, almost hypnotic.
“Yeah… sorry I just,” She didn’t need to finished.
“Got too crowded up there?” She nodded her head. You didn’t move, you kept your arms around her.
“You may not know this but I have this demon in my head and he’s… he won’t leave me alone.” You brought your lips to her forehead, kissing her gently.
“Nightmares are the plague of sleep. A curse I only know too well.” You told her with a smile.
“Crystal?” Niko’s gently and sleepy voice came from the roof door. She stood in her pink silk nightdress that was covered in flowers. You felt your face flushed at the position you been caught in.
This was Niko’s girlfriend, your friend’s girlfriend. Niko had been the first person to show you kindness and believe that you hadn’t been sing people to death. She was the first person to cut you from the boys net and here you were. Holding and kiss her girlfriend.
Niko approached quickly and sat by your side. She nuzzled her way into your arms and wrapped her own around Crystal. You didn’t move, not wanting to bring any attention to your own racing heart.
“Why don’t you come get me?” Niko asked softly.
“Didn’t want to worry you, either of you.” Crystal voiced. Niko smiled at her and moved her face to you. She kissed your cheek with her surprisingly soft lips for someone who’d probably just woken up.
“I knew you liked us.” Niko whispered as she rested her own head on your chest. You stiffed up, your shoulders going ridged. Your face became hot as Niko giggled.
“How did you…..?”
“Wanna hear a secret?” Niko’s voice was chipper. You couldn’t move your mouth.
“We like you too.” Crystal finished.
………………………………
The water ripples around the teal shimmering tail attached to Y/n as she rests on the shore of her lagoon. Her two lovers sat on two large boulders to keep out of the water. Y/n brought her body between the pair as Niko continued to speak.
“And the cafe I found has crab for you Y/n!” Niko cheered as she kicked the water. Crystal chuckled as she took the shell from Y/n. It was a pale blue in color, matching the thick coat she wore.
“Niko that sounds lovely but you know I have to go to Atlantic tomorrow.” The two girls frown at the mention.
“I still don’t understand why you always have to go.” Niko whines softly.
“It’s a celebration for… for my dead pod. I have to go.” I mumbled softly. Crystal placed a hand on my shoulder. It was a fond memory of mine, when those hunters killed my entire pod and I had to flee in this lagoon.
“What were they like?” Crystal asked softly. I smile softly as the memories of my pod.
“My pod was an odd sort, we were all orphaned by mer-hunters. We clung to each other like the kelp that makes up our breeding grounds. We never could stray quite so far from one another.”
“Hey I’m also an orphan, well short of.” Niko added. I nod my head as I push myself up and kiss her. I run my hand through her white hair as she smiles.
“Will you sing for us?” Crystal asks softly.
Hear my voice beneath the sea, Sleeping now so peacefully At the bottom of the sea, Sleep for all eternity
Sailors live so restlessly, Come with me, sleep peacefully
Listen to this siren's song, Worry not for nothing's wrong
The two girls sat in silence as their mermaids voice rang out through their lagoon. There was no David. No annoyed dandelion sprites yelling. Just them as the mermaid sang.
Let my voice lead you this way, I will not lead you astray Trust me as we reach the side, Jumping out where men have died
Hear my voice beneath the sea, Sleeping now so peacefully At the bottom of the sea, Sleep for all eternity
21 notes · View notes
paganimagevault · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The draco standard of Niederbieber 3rd C. CE. The only fully preserved draco standard. Found in the Limes fortress of Niederbieber.
"The Draco comprises of three elements: the head: the tail or body and the noise-making device. The head was perhaps the least difficult since the craftsman had the example of the Niederbieber Draco on which to base their re-creation. The head consists of two copper parts, upper and lower, which are riveted together to create an open mouth and in addition the eye-holes are unfilled (to promote air passage?). The tail was more problematic as no tail has survived or been discovered in excavations. The tail for the experimental Draco was based on the one shown on Trajan’s column and was made of silk because of its weight and density. From the illustration on the column, it appeared that the tail was attached to the head by means of a drawstring, which meant it could be removed from the head easily – presumably for the purpose of cleaning. It was estimated that the tail was approximately 9 foot long.
When it came to the noisemaker, the archaeologists were firmly in the dark. There are no clear references in the written or pictorial evidence as to what made the sound. In examining the excavated examples, it did not appear that the Draco head had any fittings apart from those which attached it to its pole. This suggested that the noisemaker s were not fitted to the head and so the logical conclusion that follow from this work that they were fitted to the pole. After experimenting of a number of different types of whistles the team settled on Chinese kite whistles, which themselves date from ancient times. It is known that examples of these whistles traveled into Western Europe in ancient times and so these seemed a plausible method to choose. During the experiments, these were initially fitted on the pole inside the head, but due to the reduced airflow they made no sound whatsoever. An alternative was sought and they were re-positioned on the pole just below the head. This proved a great success as even if the horse was walking, a good sound could be heard if the wind was in the right direction. At a gallop into the wind it was found that the sound can be heard above horse’s hooves at a distance of at least 200 m."
-taken from petesfavouritethings
110 notes · View notes
unfriendlyamazon · 7 months ago
Text
the demon's debt (wip weekday)
continuing the motivation i've got going on this week here's another little smidge from the inn for spirits au for my kaijou lovers out there, y'all knew i was putting a marriage contract in this
Voices roused Jounouchi. He groaned as he buried his head deeper into the blanket. He loved to spend his first few waking minutes pretending he was anywhere else but here. He imagined the air was sweet with the smell of cypress and lime, and the sheets he wore were silk, and there was a warmth that brimmed the air. A purring sound nearby sent his hand reaching out instinctively, and he clutched soft fur.
Jounouchi lifted his head up.
Red Eyes sat on the futon with him, unblinking as she purred, both tails curled around her feet. That was the most normal thing he saw. This was not his room, not his bed, not his clothes! He looked down at the yukata that had been tied around his waist, black in color and embroidered with a red dragon design. The blue silk sheets draped over the low bed, and the wooden walls were dark but cozy in their embrace. Somewhere, he could hear a bubbling spring, water being poured, the scrape of stone tableware. The perfumed air clung in his nostrils, filling his senses. He climbed to his feet and threw himself at the nearby window, staring out at what he saw.
And what he saw was this: the dark wood of a large inn traveled down the rocky path of an island, surrounded on all sides by dark water that reflect that fat full moon ten sizes too large that hung heavy in the star studded sky. Boats on the shoreline, and in the sky balloons with propellers that hung lazily. Beyond the bay’s water he could see land and more lights, a town perhaps, that reflected gold across the salt smelling waves. Kites flew above, and streaking over them was a dragon that moved in lazy waves, pouring wisps from it like faerie fire. And below, on the rocky shore of the island, onsens were half-hidden by wooden slats, but he could still make out the creatures that soaked in the water. A large fox with nine tails curled beside three kappa that rolled their heads back, paying no mind to the water spilling out. An ogre traipsed by, wearing a yukata, dragging his large brutish arms on the ground. Other creatures, some with noses like elephants, or tails like snakes, or long hair that trailed behind like a woodblock painting. Yokai, oni, ayakashi, all in one place. All in this place, which was not Domino, might not even be Japan.
Okay, now Jounouchi was starting to panic.
There was only one exit to the room if he didn’t feel like scaling the wall, and that was the shoji door. He threw himself at it, grabbing the wood, and threw it back, and he came face to face with a demon.
Jounouchi shouted, falling backwards, and landed right on his ass. Towering over with was the dragon that had grabbed his wrist. Now he wore a kamishimo of ice blue, with intricate lines depicting scales that that arced with the wide shoulders. A house name was written on a crest, the characters for sea horse. He still wore the dragon’s mask that grinned at him. The face beneath was solid, the chin set strong, and his blue eyes glowed.
“Good, you’re awake,” the demon said. “Isono, escort our guest.”
From behind him emerged an even larger shape, and Jounouchi’s mouth dropped in horror. An oni in a well tailored suit started forward, grabbing Jounouchi by the arm and dragging him into the air. He was dropped gracefully back onto his feet.
“Let go,” Jounouchi said automatically. He yanked his arm free and took a step back. “Where am I?”
“You are a guest of my establishment,” the demon said. “This is the Dragon’s Den, an inn that sits between the Hidden Realm and human realm. It is a place where spirits come to rest on their travels.”
“Okay,” Jounouchi said. “What am I doing here?”
A single twitch marred the demon’s face. “I told you. Your hand was sold to me, and I have come to claim my debt. By the next moon’s cycle we will be wed.”
“No,” Jounouchi said. “No, no, that’s made up. I never made a deal with any demon, first off, and second off, we can’t get married, we’re two guys.”
He smirked. “Isono, if you please.”
The ogre reached into his jacket and removed a scroll, unrolling it for Jounouchi to see. The kanji swam in front of his eyes, but by the end it was clear. All debts to be repaid in full and, failing that, the seizure of one Jounouchi Katsuya, signed and sealed by Jounouchi Koji.
Jounouchi stared at his father’s name, signed in his hand, and all he could say was, “Motherfucker.”
“Quite,” the demon said. “Five years ago your father walked into my gaming establishment and marked a debt in booze, food, and gambling that he was unable to pay. Laws in the demon realm are fluid in what can be traded, as long as equal value is established. Last month, your father passed, didn’t he? With his debt still unpaid, I am forced to turn to my next option.”
“But–” Jounouchi stared up at him, eyes wide. “How much was it?”
“Three million yen.”
“Three–” Jounouch felt the same way as when he took the lead pipe to the ribs. He almost hit the floor. He couldn’t even make the words that followed, could only stare and gasp like a dying fish.
“I was generous, of course,” the demon said. “A man shouldn’t be expected to give away his only son just like that. I offered him to work off the debt, or give repayment, but he never did. Normally with humans I can be forgiving. They leave this place believing it was only a dream, but this is not an insignificant payment. It leaves me with no choice, which is why to absolve your debt, I’ll take you as my bride.”
“Stop saying that,” Jounouchi spat. “I’m nobody’s bride, okay, and like I said, we can’t exactly get hitched.”
The demon grinned with white and shiny teeth. “In the human realm, it’s more difficult, but the Hidden Realm does not worry about such things. You will wed me, and I cannot exactly pay your debt to myself, so it will be rendered null. It is the fair proposition.”
“No, it’s stupid. Why would I even want to marry you?”
“I am rich, I am powerful, I am loved.” He held out his hands. “Would you like more reason?”
“Look,” Jounouchi said, stamping his foot down, “I can’t marry a demon, and I can’t marry anybody I just met. I don’t even know your name!”
“I have forgone introductions,” he said with a bow. “My name is Kaiba Seto, the White Dragon of the East. I am lord of everything east to the mountains, and this place is under my protection. As are you, so long as you’re here.”
“But–” Jounouchi sucked in a breath. “But why me?”
The demon lord looked at him through his mask. He considered him a beat too long, and then he shook his head. “You have the gift to see our kind. You are young and strong. Your heart is kind and brave. All those things make you delicious to our kind. If I can keep you, I can devour you at my leisure, or all at once, or not at all, if I so wish it.”
“Devour me?” Jounouchi crossed his arms in front of him. “No, absolutely not.”
“I am afraid you don’t have much choice in the matter.”
18 notes · View notes
colewhip333 · 2 months ago
Text
Holding Out for a Hero (Ch. 1: Betrayal)
Summary:
A princess from a resource-rich planet has her Capitol sieged by pirates, and is taken as a hostage. If only this was the type of story where the princess could save herself.
Notes:
Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods? (Hi guys. Some things to get you situated before you start reading: This is a slow burn for sure. Not too slow, but Mando doesn't even show up in the first chapter. Consider this porn with an insane amount of plot, like an HBO show. I don't use "reader" as a character name, nor do I use "______". I have a name for our reader in my head but I'm still debating on using it or not or just keeping things nondescript. Let me know if you have a preference in the comments! If you have thoughts/critiques PLEASE COMMENT I love interacting with y'all. it makes me happy and lets me know that I'm doing good work. k. enjoy ur space kissing. love u)
   Your nightly routine has always been the highlight of any part of your day, no matter how good or bad. From the moment you wake in your Karlini silk sheets to each decadent and balanced meal, each step through the garden you take and diplomatic ribbon cutting, it all is seemingly so you can take your nightly moonbath, the cool rosewater blessing your skin, the two moons shining their silvery light. All so that you may wash your face, oil your body and visage and massage it with pinkstone, and have your handmaid, Laika, braid your long hair, before humming your merry way to your bed. One would be foolish not to relish that feeling, how there is no pressing matter to uphold at this hour, no one to speak to, no one to appease or perform for. All there is to do is simply cleanse, purify, polish, and rest.
     You hummed and hummed one of many songs in the encyclopedia of your mind, its melody languid, only stopping once to look out your window before holding your red robe closed with a hand to the chest as you unlocked and opened the door to your quarters. No one there. Yet you felt the need to check tonight. You felt a bit strange but shook it off, walking back to your bed. You sighed, almost in a daze. These days, your life was so routine and serene that you often felt sleepy before even getting in the sheets.
      When you felt warm, hard metal on the center of your spine it slapped you out of nightly bliss like a hawk divebombing a kite. It was solid as anything through the thin fabric of your robe. Before you even realized that you had a blaster held to you, your eyes shut. Pitch black was your savior in this moment because the next, you were sure you would be dead. This was it. All in a split second, it was decided. All 26 years of your life. This was as far as you’d go. You would die a sudden death right in front of your bed, nearly as naked as the day you were born, poetic if not humiliating.
     You’re still. What felt like thousands of seconds passed, in reality more like three or four. Death still did not come. Unaware of your breath, you are only aware of the subtlety of your own mortality. This pitch black was a blanket of nothing on your senses. Maybe you were dead already, but why would you still feel presence behind you? Moreover, why did you close your eyes when you could have opened them to assess your situation? Things seemed clearer this way. Easier to process. Were you running away, or were you sinking in? You only jumped a little as a voice speaking Huttese hissed, “evening, your highness. Mind if we take you on a stroll?”
Before you could scream for help, your mouth was covered by a dirty human hand. Laughter snickered from further behind you. Your brows furrowed, your lashes twitching tighter shut before attempting to relax even a fraction. You needed to keep calm. Where was Laika? She was cleaning out the bathtub on your balcony. You honed your ears, yet could not hear her screams, or gasps, or rustling fabric of her dress as she resisted. Other than rustling wind through open windows and the laughter of what you immediately knew had to be pirates, there was nothing. You could not feel her warmth, her energy, her beautiful presence. It was enough of a realization to have you open your eyes wide. She was dead. She was dead and you could be next if you made the wrong move. Is that why you wouldn’t move? You had fantasized about this before, the rather paranoid and thoughtful girl you always were. You had been warned to prepare in the “unlikely” event that you and your family would be sieged, or threatened. You were told to think quickly, to disarm and flee. Taught in traditional fighting arts from your planet since you were a youngling was barely useful when weapons were involved. You were gifted small knives to keep under your mattress, though never trained in how to use them. It was laughable.
      Your quarters were atop a high tower with only one entrance and exit aside from scaling down the ivy outside your balcony, and your protection was only of your own and perhaps your beloved handmaid. Castle guards were used sparingly these days on Desino 3. They were more so employed for protecting the crowned jewels day and night, or simply guarding the doors of the ballrooms and throne room during events and royal proceedings like tithes, still like statues at the entrances and exits. The fall of the empire was the cause of this leniency in the castle. They took over too much. Ugly white armor trudged all around the smooth, organic lines of the grounds and surrounding city of Nova Desino, clashing hard and bringing its smothering coldness, brutalizing what was supposed to be soft, balanced, eclectic, sweet. Your whole young life you heard the step of stormtroopers up and down the steps of your tower periodically, playing target practice with the scoia rodents whose bushy, thin tails weren’t even singed by plasma, furiously watching the troops out the window of your tower. You knew that they’d sometimes watch you bathe from down in the garden below. You also knew that the second the Empire fell and the scum of them were removed from the planet, that you’d feel out in the open to anyone that could hurt you and it would still feel more safe than it did with those ghosts walking around your home.
      Now, though, of course you wished you had an appointed royal guard. Aren’t all royals supposed to? All across The Galaxy, wasn’t it supposed to be this way? It was moronic of your parents to allow this much trust and freedom when in the last 10 years war has been bubbling on the precipice of your country. A grave mistake. Though pirates have encroached on your people for centuries, not for hundreds of years has galactic piracy been able to set foot on the Capital. Maybe it was that fact, and the confidence reenhanced by freedom from the Imperials that gave the idea. A confidence in resources, in allyship, in the militia. There had never been an outright reason for the Pirates to set foot into the Capital. They trail along coasts, they attempt to loot and take over mining territories. They just wanted gems, precious metals. But it seems that the Iron Syndicate, of which you assume was now escorting you in your open robe and covered mouth towards the large round paned doors of your tower to your balcony, had finally found the correct reason and opportunity to waltz right into the Capital city. The king and queen should not have been so confident. In your fear, you had a fleeting moment of scorn for your parents.
      The reasons as to why this could be happening could not register. Your heart beat so wildly in your skull that it was all you could hear as you saw your closest friend, Laika, face down in a puddle of purple blood on the floor in the archway. You had no idea Twi’lek blood was purple. You never had reason to know that or even think about it. By some miracle, none of it got on your feet. Warm summer wind blew your robe open and what would once be free and tantalizing was now terrifying and stomach curdling as an airspeeder was awaiting you and the others. A bald, green pilot eyed you up and down. The princess of Desino 3 bare for these low lives to see. You hated that you spoke Huttese. You hated that you understood the crude words that were exchanged between the men. It was only then as your bare foot stepped into the speeder that you realized your hands were free and never cuffed and your mouth was now uncovered. You very slowly tied your robe and stared off at nothing as glass domed over the ship and flew. Spit filled your mouth, a lump in your throat that suffocated you over and over as you tried to swallow but couldn’t. It took a few tries. The men kept speaking, the tails of their sentences lapping over one another. “She looks happy to see us, eh?” “I’m happy to see her-” “Desini women will walk naked through the market wont they-“ “We can look but we can’t touch. Captain’s orders.” “Oh, brother.” “Captain’s orders, listen to my words–” “Why? Long as we don’t kill her or break anything–“ “The princess must remain unharmed until we get what we want. That’s what he said to me.” “You’re such a goody good.” “I’m the first mate now. Do you all forget that?” “Sir–I wouldn’t harm her–”       “Touch me and you’ll die terribly,” you interjected, completely out of control of your words as you spoke the same tongue. You had no undergarments on, let alone weapons, only that proper training in the art of fighting since you were a young girl, and never had you needed to use it in a real situation, and never more than one opponent. You were unsure you could kill anyone. Why the hell would you say that? Yet somehow it was honest coming from your mouth. It was a promise. There was a shift when everyone, pilot included, looked back at you– A beat– Then they all turned back around.
“Frak,” said one of the men. Frak is right. You should be saying Frak. This was not good.
     Another one of them, an alien species with one eye and a wide mouth, just laughed. You wondered if he was the one that killed Laika. No, it had to be the one that still had a gun pressed to you, the first mate, now pressing the blaster on your side. He seemed like he could kill quietly with the silencer on his blaster. You did not dare make eye contact, your eyes stayed ahead.       Was Laika truly gone? Perhaps she was playing dead. Perhaps she waited out her act of laying there bleeding until she heard the speeder careen far enough. She was smart that way, you knew she was. Soon she will have notified someone to send after you and be healing in the infirmary. You almost doubted your parents were alive for some odd reason. Perhaps it was your own life flashing before your eyes back in your bedroom. But then again, you’d like to think if someone that close to you was gone, you could tell. Like Laika. But perhaps it was all up in the air. Your instincts could mean nothing. Your adrenaline was spiked in the most odd way, your body had the slightest tremor, your pupils small and a tingle in your skin, but you felt this odd wave of calm. You were now able to think, at least a little bit. Now, you were convinced that this was some sort of coup, and it was hard to even feel grief as you silently ruminated. You felt its attempts to fill your heart and throat, but all that could surface through to your emotions was determination. You could cry and panic and grieve later. For now, you sat straight, arms crossed, the speeder’s angled rise followed by thrusters pushing you back to the firm leather seat with every meter gained in altitude. Rumbling filled your ears, a deep, dark noise you haven’t heard in a while. There were seatbelts, but you didn’t bother to put one on. The moons shed their light on you from a different angle this high up in the atmosphere. Space travel always made you motion sick, and this driver truly had something out for you, your head beginning to feel full of cotton. Just before the stratosphere, you stared ahead at a giant striped monster of a ship. By the body of it alone, you knew it was pre-empire, and you knew the flags of the iron syndicate well by now. A silent, deep breath filled your lungs. Maker, what would happen to you here? You’d survive, you told yourself. You had no choice.
-
      When you landed on the loading dock, you had the urge to close your eyes again. When you were young, and taken to travel in a carriage or speeder, you’d close your eyes in hopes that someone would carry you out. It was a similar urge. An avoidance of existence, of responsibility in the world. Maybe you’d close your eyes and not have to face the future. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination, or dream. Maybe you’d be carried to bed. You settled for a long blink. They still didn't cuff you. Even as you were dragged out of the pontoon and met with the acrid air of the dock that smelled like space, your hands were free to do whatever, yet you held them poised at your sides. There was no point in covering up more through the thin panes of silky fabric. You refused to make yourself smaller when grabbed by the arm, that pressure of a blaster barrel kissing your ribs still, while you are guided up a large ramp. Rusty doors parted for you and this entourage, the brighter lights of the loading dock shifting into hallways of brown and dark metallic gray. Every so often, a pirate would be in the hall, repairing a tear with a plasma welder, stomping their way to some other business, and each time, they’d stare. You noticed from your peripheral that they would crane their necks, and their look was not one of surprise. Some of them even smiled as if they expected to see you.It deepened the dread you felt with each step, but it was unable to penetrate the haze surrounding your consciousness. Just survive, just talk to whoever you need to talk to, and cross bridges when you come to them.
      Many of the pirates on the ship were Weequay, much to your dismay. You hated when stereotypes proved accurate, but it wasn’t just Weequay here. Species of all sorts were able to gawk at you, some purposefully ignoring you and your existence. You were unsure what insulted you more. Through the large main hall and one small lift, you were now in the very large cockpit, a myriad of controls, beeps, rings, and that white noise of space travel that you assumed would be heard by you for a long while. You knew about Captain Gram Naku y
our whole life. He and his crew have gone in and out of your planet’s radar since before you were born. You’ve seen mugshots, holograms, drawings, read about him in history books, and heard discussions of him for decades now. He was a tale that mothers told younglings to have them in bed by 1, a real worry for anyone near a mining town or trade port, a name in news broadcastings. But no one has seen him in the flesh in years on Desino 3, because he stayed in his ship. He was likely standing right now in the spot where he has sent every threat, every menacing call through holograms, and now he was solid in front of you. Tens of tiny horns smothered the bottom half of his textured, tough skin. Two larger horns like tusks jutted out from either underside of his nostrils like a terrible mustache. His hair, long and braided with tattered cloth and rope, peaked grey and silver at the ends, and the hat atop his head hid the bareness of it. His face was wide, bulky and sturdy compared to many weequay you had seen before. When you were face to face, he took off his hat and bowed to you with a smug smile. “Your highness,” he greeted. You only waited a few short seconds before you spoke. “Why have you taken me? Why am I here?” You tried to hide the fear and urgency in your voice, but two questions in a row did not do you any favors, even if your voice was forced deep in range. He gave a patient, knowing smile, putting his hands behind his back as he began to walk about the cockpit.
     “We have something your family wants now. You’re just a lovely little pawn. I don’t need to spare you details. Don’t worry about it, dearie.” It felt like a slap in the face. “I did bring you up here for a proper greeting, though. You’ll be here as long as you need to be, so we’ll need to make friends, eh?” He stopped to look at you.
“I’d love to. But I’d like to know why I’m being held captive, sir,” you asserted.
He flashed you a humorous smile, and for a second you almost thought he’d actually tell you.“Take her to the brig,” he eyed you up and down, shooing you away like a fly, his beady upturned eyes lingering on something near your shins. “Bring that bag, give her blankets. Show her the hospitality and gentleness we muster for esteemed guests on our ship, hm?”
      “Sir!” Replied your captors. Before you knew it you were in the deep hull of the ship, and while you thought it’d be freezing cold, the engines now blasting made things warm, stuffy. The blankets tossed on the bench next to you would not serve you much purpose besides a pillow. You almost thought of how you may use for decency before a bag, the bag, you sorted, was tossed at your feet as you sat. It was a tactical, buckle laden bag. Imperial. You opened it as soon as the doors were slid shut and the yellow fluorescent light was your new moonlight. Your lips parted as you took in the sight of your belongings. Not all of them, mind you, but things you otherwise would miss. Some luxuries, like the pink silk eye mask you wore to bed, your nail pick and file, grooming scissors, your pink massage stone, your ornate copper crescent moon comb, your rose scented soap and toothbrush with paste, body oil, but necessities, like what seemed to be two sets of clean clothes, neither set anything like you would wear. Two simple tunic dresses and a sash, a grey tank top, a pair of riding pants, basic undergarments. A menstrual cup, A pouch of credits, Your diary with a graphite stick. No shoes. Confusion brought a wrinkle to your brow, and tears to your eyes. How did they grab all of this? Some of it was stuff you had just used before bed, and some you were about to use. Why did they pack some things that weren’t needed and leave out what was? Was this a mind game to torment you? How did they do it so quietly, how did you not even hear them? Why would they care to do that? How could you be so careless as to not notice? You often pride yourself at being observant, intuitive, almost feeling things before they happen. Perhaps all of that meant nothing. Perhaps you were nothing but a royal idiot, a spoiled girl with rose colored glasses and rose scented perfume who is blissfully unaware of the world around her. Perhaps your father was right in describing you as just that. You set your diary down on your lap as your lips trembled, eyes scrunching in a silent, panicked cry, your face in your hands. No wonder no one tells you a thing.
      You hissed an inhale and shook in an exhale, looking up and around your holding room. It was like a jail cell but with doors instead of bars. A bench, a bowl that jutted out from the slightly rusty walls you assume to be a toilet, lights that line the perimeter of the ceiling, and that was about it. You sniffled and your body felt stiff and heavy as you removed your robe. The silk felt so nice upon your soft skin, still damp and moisturized from your bath. You felt your sweat drip from your under arms down your sides, tickling your flesh as you eyed the door, barely ripping your gaze as you began to change into one of those tunic dresses, underwear, and a sash as a belt around your waist. It was too much fabric already for how warm you felt. The metal felt good for a little bit as you lay on the bench and look up at the ceiling as long as you could before closing your eyes, the rumble of engines lulling you into some few minutes of something akin to sleep but more so a thread of thought, only really interrupted by the small jolt of hyperspace entry muffled by stabilizers. Then it was back to your brain. You couldn’t put on your sleeping mask. It smelled too much like home.
-
      However many days actually passed exactly, you had no idea. You could not tell any passage of time besides the hair on your legs growing longer and the number of meals they decided to feed you, most of which near inedible besides the fruit and dried meat you got for lunch. They gave you plenty of filtered water, a fact that pleased and surprised you, though each time you wondered if it was poison or if there were bodily fluids somehow undetectable in your gourd shaped decanter refilled every night. You counted 27 meals at this point, and you suspected you had been in the brig for at least one whole week, maybe longer. Whoever Laika sent to save you was taking their sweet time.       It was that same seventh or so day that you were taken out of the brig. Still, no handcuffs were put on you as you were escorted to the cockpit. You were in hyperspace, and you wondered as you stared out the blinding light of racing stars how much fuel this large of a ship required. Soon they’d need to stop for more. Maybe you could somehow plan an escape.
Captain Naku spotted your pensive face. “Care for tea, your excellency?”
“Care for a parlay?”
“Ha! Have a seat. Let her go.” You felt the pressure of a strong hand on you release, the act making your lip snarl ever so slightly as you sat in a small round seating area with a table. There was indeed tea, the grassy smell filling your nostrils. You sat as gracefully as you could on the dingy looking rounded booth.
“Is there a reason you haven’t told me why I’m here?”
“I don’t think it’d be of much concern to you.”
Your head quirked to the side incredulously. “You do not think it would be of concern to me,” you repeated.
“No, princess. You’re uh— a collateral, you’re… ah, it’d just be pointless to explain. Not much you can do.”
“I am a diplomat, I can talk and understand. Collateral for what, exactly?”
“Fine,” he said after annoyed pause, pouring tea for himself and not you, “if you insist. Though, to me it's pretty obvious,” he shrugged his broad shoulders. “You are not the heir, but you’re a beloved daughter and public figure. You have value. So does the crowned jewel archive.”
“That’s it? You are taking me and putting my life in danger to get a hold of a few tiaras?”
     You were snarky, but you knew the archive was more than just that. He smiled knowingly back at you. Not only were there heaps of giant uncut gemstones and jewelry pieces that were hundreds of years old, there were also stores of precious metals extremely rare in the galaxy, and some now even rare on Desino 3 from frequent mining. Some of which are the kind of material that would have you set for life with just a few slabs. Most of it is from the planet itself, while other materials were traded for. You’ve seen it multiple times, the archives, sporadically throughout your life. You didn’t care much for the ore and metal treasury, but the jewels… just looking at them would cheer you up on a rainy day. The way they glittered and gleamed… you often wondered about the things those pieces have seen, your ancestors who wore them, the craftsmanship required to mine and make them, which pieces you’d wear on your wedding day… perhaps you were worth that beauty as a collateral. In a strange way, maybe you were almost flattered. Not really, though.
“You act like you’re being tortured here, your majesty. Are you not being taken care of?”   
       You could scoff, but you supposed for a whole ship full of mostly male pirates, this is the best case scenario. The most you got was whistled at, eaten alive with stares, talked about like a piece of meat. Other than that, you were left alone. Perhaps that was a sort of torture, in a way, though. The solitude, the deprivation. You did not wish to speak to a single soul here, nevermind that, but you haven’t seen the sun or moons in days. You weren’t even sure where you were now, where you could possibly be taken to. You didn’t answer his question. Instead, he answered yours.      “More or less,” the captain finally replied. “But since you’re so well loved, someone’s gonna come for you any second now, yeah?” He added, smug as anything. Your face hardened more as you felt your stomach drop. It’s been days. You had been taught that thoughts and words were very powerful. All week, you spent ample time in belief that someone would come for you. You could feel the love of your people, imagining their relief and celebration at your return in once piece. The manifestation was taking its time.
“Where are we?”
     Gram Naku rolled his eyes, leaning back on the bench as he took another long sip from the steaming cup. “Somewhere no one will ever find you,” he said. You pondered a moment. That could either mean somewhere very remote, or somewhere very populated.
“Coruscant?” You guessed.
      The pirate’s wrinkled face deepened the lines when he smiled, looking down as he slammed his cup. Suddenly, he stood, and you lurched as the ship moved out of hyperspace, looking out the window as Coruscant glittered like a ball of molten lava rock in the atmosphere. What timing. “Second, you stay and make sure the landing spot is secured and free from eyes, and First, Take her back to her cell.” Said the Weequay. Your arm was under attack again, gripped hard as you were dragged up. Your eyes were only ripped from the windows that showcased the giant planet when the doors closed behind you and your escort.       Perhaps you could think of a way to escape, but it had to be fast. You weren’t sure of the next time you’d be able to be outside of your cell, and you had no experience with wiring and electrical equipment like the ones that kept your door shut. You looked up to the man holding your arm. The same human with the blaster. He’s been the one bringing you your food and water all week. Did Naku call him First? “Are there refreshers here?” You asked him. You needed to bathe. Badly.
“You wish,” he snarked.
      You pouted, blinking up at him, stubbornly stopping in front of the lift so anyone could see should they enter, facing him and looking up at his face. Much to your pleasure, he stopped with you immediately. “Are you going to do business with the captain in Coruscant? You’re his first mate, right?” A long pause hung between you. He stared at you, your face, your eyes.
“… Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
      You eyed him up and down. He looked sad, his sense of loneliness easily accessible through his eyes. You didn’t notice it when he first captured you, but you noticed it now. His face alone enraged you. He was the one that pressed his gun to you, that twisted and gripped your arm so harshly that it was sore, the one that had the nerve to touch your mouth with his filthy hand, obscuring your breathing from the last bit of sweet night air on your balcony. Giving him a subtle smile, you let yourself feel some hope. His disgusting fingers still held the fabric of your bicep. A pregnant pause filled the air, for a moment neither of you moved nor spoke. He kept staring at your lips.
“…Can we walk back, sir? I’m really hungry,” you admitted sheepishly.
His look was almost a non verbal coo at you. What a poor thing. “Do you like caf?” He asked with a smirk. No. You liked the taste, even the smell, but you were sensitive to it. One sip and you’d be up all night. You much preferred tea.
“I love caf,” you let your eyes widen, your lower lip hanging like a ripe fruit.
The first mate glanced back down the hall to the doors to the cockpit, and then back at you.
“Let’s get you some caf, sweetheart.”
-
      You tried to eye the layout of the ship as subtly as you could as you were walked through the halls and into the dining hall— if you could call it a dining hall. It looked like the most run down dive bar you’ve ever seen. Most of the pirates were too entranced in their own company and entertainment to be too concerned with you and the first mate. You wondered if that was normal for this crew— on what seemed like their down time, they seemed to have their guards down to any of their duties.
"Caf is over here,” said the first mate, his name being Jof, his answer when you asked. One hand of his was pointing, the other now crossing over to a gentle hold around your shoulder. You’d rather the cuffs at this point.
      You bit your lip in feigned excitement at the giant caf machine situated on a table with tons of metal cups dispensed next to it. “So, do you get to stay anywhere? Or are you on the ship even when it’s docked?”
       The man looked at you in surprise as you two walked up to the caf supply. The smell of it did not mesh well with the amount of must in this room. It was horrid. Someone might as well light a death stick in here and hot box it. At least that would feel pleasant to inhale after a few minutes. “Well, we might be here a minute. Normally, I’d stay on the ship. She’s our home, after all. But, uh…” he tsked his tongue, grabbing a cup. “Sometimes the captain and a few crewmates, me included,” he clarified, “we get to visit some inns. Clubs. Some business, some fun, you know, it’s… it’s nothing— ,” he struggled. This man was a bit pathetic and you were very relieved. How he made it this far in the crew you will never know. He works with bounty hunters and pirates and some of the worst, skeeviest people, but here he is— diverting his captain’s orders, and blabbing. “It’s his decision where we stay and if we stay. But the longer our business there, the more likely I get a ‘fresher, yeah?” He chuckled, and you made sure you did too as he filled the cup and handed it to you before getting one himself. You blew on it a few times before taking a sip, looking down at it like it just revived your spirit, like something fond was now in your grasp and you’d be forever grateful for this small joy in the face of your adversity. “So… ah, nevermind,” you shook your head, taking a big sip, sighing. It was the shittiest caf you have ever had. You could feel it almost coat your teeth. Was this mud?
“What?”
“Nothing— it’s pointless,” you said.
 He took a sip himself and walked you to a corner of the room. “Tell me, ma’am.”
      You sighed, “I just, wondered if you could somehow,” you interjected to giggle at yourself, the ridiculousness of what you were saying, “let me please use your refresher. At whatever place you’re staying at,” you shook your head and looked back down at the cup of mud. It definitely had mud in there. “I’m spoiled. I’m used to bathing every night. When I don’t feel clean and smooth I get… antsy. I feel as though I’m going mad. Can’t sleep. I toss and turn all night,” You looked back up at him.“You could even handcuff me– If you’re worried,” you added, voice a bit lower, leaning in so he could hear, and perhaps what you said was even laced with something a bit suggestive. The short look of feigned lust you allowed him to see morphed back into coyness.
       He paused a moment, his beverage steaming up visibly in the dim yellowish-green lighting. It felt like ages before he spoke, looking off at crewmates singing shanties in the center of the room. “We should get back to your cell.”
      Your heart sank. Did you take it too far? It did seem a bit too easy. Perhaps you made a grave mistake, but at least you got to see more of the ship layout, the way the crew behaved. You walked back with the man who put his hand back on your shoulder. Was that a good sign still? “Thank you, Jof– Or, sir. My apologies.” you told him at your door. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have caf—“ the door shut in your face before you could finish. You looked down and took a moment before sighing. It was worth a shot.
-
      You poured the sludge down your toilet and drank your generously rationed water on the floor, deciding on doing some stretching as you continued to come up with some possible alternate plans since plan A didn’t seem to be going well. That got old after about an hour. You decided to do one of your favorite activities this week, which was to pace the seven-by-seven room like a caged animal until you had to pee. You felt your heart race. If you escaped in Coruscant, you could use your credits for a speeder cab to an Alliance headquarters. You weren’t dressed like a royal anymore, the only thing off about you would be your lack of shoes. They’d keep you safe at headquarters, and you’d be back home within a week’s travel.       How will you escape now? You looked around the room. Is there a single thing in here that somehow appeared in the last week that could help you? It’d be about the 50th time you’ve checked. You laid down on your bench bed, crossing your ankles and resting your hands on your stomach. The longer you bore your eyes into the ceiling, the more a strange feeling sat in you. A tingling in the fingertips, a churning of your gut. It could have easily been the caf, but you felt it could have been something more. If it was a good feeling, or bad, you were not entirely sure. Something in the middle, you surmised. A neutrally anxious feeling that made you want to go wherever you were meant to go next, to get out of this cell and off of the ship, mixed in with a patient streak telling you to just wait. You did just that, for another hour or two. You could feel your descent onto Coruscant, the clanging of many boots above you and outside of your doors. If they left you in here, you may very well turn into an animal by the second week. Fortitude was your strong suit, but being so close to an escape and yet so far, it could easily get to you if you did not spend every moment awake focused and positive. Your body jiggled as the ship set its legs down upon landing and you let out a large sigh. You knew it was just past breakfast for the crew, but that meant nothing when you traveled galaxies. It could be any time of day in Coruscant, but you’d like to imagine it was night time. You closed your eyes and imagined it, how the lights and signs shine and twinkle, the trains moving fast in the sky. You need to be on one as soon as possible, moving far away from this gargantuan ugly striped eyesore of a pirate ship.
Your head swung to the side as the doors to your cell opened.
12 notes · View notes