#Verminous Serpent

[drondskaath]

Verminous Serpent | The Malign Covenant | 2023

Irish Death/Black Metal

[bruderdeslichtsblackmetal]

VERMINOUS SERPENT set release date for AMOR FATI debut, reveal first track – features members of PRIMORDIAL, MALTHUSIAN, SLIDHR+++

http://bruderdeslichts.com/verminous-serpent-set-release-date-for-amor-fati-debut-reveal-first-track-features-members-of-primordial-malthusian-slidhr/

[onlyhurtforaminute]

VERMINOUS SERPENT-TRANSCEDENT PYRE

[tamarieatsbatteries175]

AWH FUCK YEAH THE REFRENCES FOR THE REGIONS AND SLUGCATS ARE DONE!!!!!!!!

All the stuffs under cut cuz i dont want to flood peoples dashes lol

REGIONS:

Rusted Platform

Overgrown Facility

Dead Desert

SLUGCATS:

Comin out with a huge infodump on flashfloods lore and shit so i can tell more about all this on there

Serpent and Vermin got name changes!!

[promiseofabrotherskeeper]

Context xxx)

Play dead. - @themosthatedbeingg

“A wise decision, Devil.”

[bruciemilf]

Protective daddy Thomas Wayne.

No thoughts, only baby Bruce riding on his papa’s shoulders, mind ice cream in his tiny hand, much to Alfred’s utter dismay. “You’re getting so big, bunny! Oh don’t look so salty. He likes it.”

“If he wakes up and likes tigers, shall we commence to that, too?”

“Siberian tigers, sure.”

“T’ger,” Bruce just started speaking and it’s the most adorable and beautiful thing he’s ever heard. Thomas can’t deny himself peppering kisses all over him, and Alfred, too.

His hair shivers.

Carmine Falcone approaches them with a sharp eye. “Thomas Wayne outside and walking. Didn’t think I’d see you. And who’s this?” He’s bad at appearing harmless. Bruce hides behind Thomas’ head, peeking at him through his eyelashes.

Thomas’ radiant smile vanishes in something cold. “My baby.”

“My future competition,” he hums, “Pretty little thing. Like his daddy.”

A flat silence snows over them, and Thomas gently passes his baby boy to a still, smiling that switchblade smile of him.

“Let’s talk, Carmy.”

—

“Listen here, ya rat bastard,” He sneers, smile manic and eyes wide, like a scorned serpent baring its fangs, forearm pressed tight against Carmine’s throat. He watches that little vermin thrash and wheeze.

Thomas’ accent is honeyfire, drawling like a whiskey river and booming like lighting. “You even look at my son again, I swear on my mama’s body, boy, I’ll dig up your piece of shit daddy and make you eat the skin. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Falcone. “

“I swear,” he groans, clawing at Thomas’ arm, but he doesn’t even feel it, that’s how enraged he is. “On my father’s name, I swear.”

“Good. “ A knee to the stomach is unnecessary, yet greatly desired. “Get the fuck off my streets.” And if Alfred watches Thomas hide his bloody knuckles from Bruce while they’re at the park, who’s he to say anything?

[tyrantisterror]

Some stuff I learned at the Medieval Studies Congress today that will be of interest/use for Midgaheim:

There's a passage of Beowulf that, in the original old English, lists Grendel's kin/fellow descendents of Cain (the biblical first murderer). Two are easily translated to modern English: elves and giants (specifically "gigantes," one of the few times the poem uses a latin word rather than an Old English word, which probably specifically implies these are Biblical giants/nephilim like Goliath). The other two words are hard to parse because they have no modern English equivalent, and different translations use different words to try to give the same flavor. One is translated roughly as phantoms, undead, revenants, draugr, goblins, evil spirits, or demons, while the other is translated as trolls or ogres. However, both of those words mean something different than those equivalents - in the second term's case, it specifically means Jotunn, i.e. frost giants. And that's especially important for two reasons: 1, Grendel is referred to as being most closely related to that term, sometimes outright being called a Jotunn, and 2, Jotunn are VERY different than giants/ogres mythologically speaking, and the Beowulf poet would have known that. Troll is probably the best fit of all modern English monster words, since trolls were synonymous with Jotunns (and most other monsters) early in the history of Germanic languages, but the word Troll now means its own specific thing, so it's still not a good fit, and as the speaker surmised, it's probably best just to translate Jotunn… as Jotunn.

On a related note, the word "Ettin" is derived from Jotunn, so at some point I should make Midgaheim Ettins some sort of sister clade of ogres to Jotunns.

Beowulf says that giants were "wiped out in the flood," and because it specifically uses the Latin word "gigante," it's likely this is a reference to the death of the nephilim in Biblical apocrypha. BUT! Given how "Jotunn" is used often in the poem, it could alternatively refer to the flood of Ymir's blood in Norse mythology that ALSO wiped out a population of giants. OR! it could refer to BOTH, which would be an explicit instance of the poem trying to fit Norse myth and Christian apocrypha into one united mythos. It is possible the Beowulf poet may have been trying the same heretical bullshit I've been doing in Midgaheim.

A prominent theme in Norse myth was people who act monstrously turning into monsters as a result, and it's possibel that the word "Jotunn" may be rooted in the Germanic word for Gluttony, since early descriptions of Jotunns describe them as cannibals/maneaters whose voracious appetites are particularly destructive - a trait that they share with folkloric ogres across Europe.

Dragons, especially in Norse myth, have some psychopomp connotations, particularly with regards to the word "wyrm," which has always had an intended double meaning to include both serpents/reptiles and vermin/invertebrates. A wyrm is both viper and maggot, snake and worm, with the connective trait that unites all things under the category being its ability to inspire a primal fear. The Beowulf dragon specifically has connotations with Death and Rot, living in an ancient grave and ending the life of the near-unkillable hero of the poem. Nidhoggr also fills this role, as do his fellow root-chewer dragons who torment the particularly dishonorable dead in Norse Hel.

Gawain and Lancelot were disaster bisexuals. It is also probably arguable that most if not all of the knights of the round table are disaster bisexuals, but Gawain and Lancelot definitely are.

At least one incarnation of King Arthur kinda blatantly desired to be a throuple with Gwenevere and Lancelot, which would have solved so many problems. Like, he was aware both Lancelot and Gwenevere were more functional when they could fuck, and he loved them both dearly so come on, let them be a throuple.

There's a good argument that many, if not all versions of Mordred could have been gay.

One Gawain story has him accidentally kill a woman while getting into a fight with a knight over a dead white stag, and Gwenevere tells Gawain that from this day on he has to take a solemn vow to ALWAYS respect and protect women. Or, to sum up:

Lanval was a sub and that's why the fairy maiden asked him to visit her. Their dynamic also subverts a lot of medieval expectations of masculinity and feminity in Marie de France's version of the story, which subsequent authors tried to "fix" in later retellings - a big example is how in Marie's version, the Fairy Maiden steers the horse that rescues Lanval, while in subsequent retellings Lanval gets to steer despite the Fairy Maiden being the one who came to the rescue. Marie's version has both of them take on masculine and feminine roles, serving and protecting each other in turn, and seems to have this message that a good relationship should be an equal partnership where both sides shoulder each other's burdens while also caring for themselves. Marie de France continues to be my favorite medieval writer.

There was a lot of argument and theorizing about the nature of souls as incorporeal things that still can feel pain, with a lot of Christians arguing about what pain means to a spirit without a body, and how exactly hellfire can hurt a soul without a body. Dante kinds put the final word on it by drawing on the fact that angels and demons, who are beings of soul without corporeal forms, can create corporeal representations of themselves from air, smoke, fire, and light - damned souls are given substance, and thus pain, by Hellfire that wraps around their bodies, with one passage of inferno describing how the fire surrounding Ulysses curls at one point "almost like a tongue" to allow him to speak. The fire is also something that, depending on how you translate the poem, may be self inflicted - summoned by the sinner, or at least manifesting as result of their sins and faults, which goes with the theme of Dante's Hell where all the punishments are self inflicted/reinforced by the sinners themselves.

There's a medieval French poem about an island called Cokaygne (pronounced "Cocaine," no I'm serious I'm not shitting you it's called Cocaine) where the houses are made of crepes/pancakes, the rivers are made of sweet milk, food is plentiful, the weather is never bad, predators and disease are nonexistent, and the only people who live there are monks and nuns who spend all their time eating, resting, and engaging in kinky and satisfying sex. The poem is a satire of other stories of the time that attempted to describe Heaven, and explicitly says Cokaygne (Cocaine) is better than Heaven, because all you have to do in Heaven is look at clouds and grass, while in Cokaygne (Cocaine) you get to fuck nuns in your pancake house. To get to Cokaygne (Cocaine) you have to sit up to your neck in pigshit for seven years straight. It kinda reminded me of that hobo folk song "The Big Rock Candy Mountain."

Finally (for today), there's a Medieval story that's based on the story of the Buddha that fucks up the concept of "letting go of attachments" when trying to adapt it to fit a medieval french worldview, turning the concept from "free yourself from your desires" to "listen you shouldn't care about material wealth because the wealth you'll get in the spiritual world of Heaven will be WAY better, you get jewels and a throne and stuff it's sick dude," which proves white people have been fucking that concept up in stupid ways for centuries.

[zweiginator]

omg college!artrick WOOF!!! need need need to meet them at a frat party and have them just completely crowd my space, their heads on either side of mine, both whispering about howd treat me so much better than my boyfriend. hands on my hips, offering to get me a drink. telling me to just think about it, when i turn them down. "just think about it, double the please..." its so serious

-🐞

omg my first emoji anon? yay ive seen you on @artdcnaldson 's blog you're spectacular

but yes!!! you showed up with your boyfriend, you know that art and patrick know this; they made uncomfortable eye contact with you and him until you were flushed and had to look away. they waited until your boyfriend muttered something about getting another drink. and then they came in like serpents. invading your personal space and pushing hair out of your face. looking at you so intently as you answered their prying questions. they pretended to care about an assignment coming up and then they were bringing up your relationship. asking you if you're happy.

you didn't know how to answer that question; you felt so guilty for being so affected by their charm. how good they smelled and their strong arms on either side of you as they leaned against the wall. your boyfriend would be coming back soon and you told them that, like a warning. like they didn't already know. like you were doing something wrong.

maybe the boys were toeing a line they shouldn't by being so close to you, but they hadn't said anything inappropriate. your thoughts were moving in that direction. the way they licked their lips and stared at yours when you spoke, how they towered over you--you didn't realize your boyfriend was back.

you barely heard a word they said to you, but you remember them muttering in your ear about treating you better. making you feel better.

you shook your head and as your boyfriend squeezed between them to shoo them away like they were vermin--they whispered:

"just think about it."

your boyfriend's jaw was tense and you left the party shortly after. you argued all night, a back and forth volley of insults and screaming and you assured your boyfriend that it's okay. he was overreacting.

but he knew art and patrick's reputation. knew how girls fawned over them and lined up at tennis tournaments to watch them peel their shirts off during a doubles match.

and you knew you were lying through your teeth because you thought of them the next time you had sex with him. the boring, benign sex that art and patrick promised you would end if you just gave them a chance. thought about it.

[itsseohannbin]

• The Blackened Heart • Part One

A Han Jisung Mini Series

© itshannjisung, 2024

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

⚓️ Series Masterlist ⚓️

Genre: Pirate SKZ

Pairing: PirateThief!Jisung x Female Captain Reader x Ex-Bandit Lino

Summary: When Y/N, Captain of the Blackened Heart, gets offered a large sum of money to deliver a thief to the Jarl of Serpent Point, she and her crew greedily accept. But while spending time with the familiar thief during their long journey back home, she realizes just how important human connection can be, even for a pirate.

Warnings: Pirate SKZ. Swearing. Mentions of weapons. Violence. Mentions of brothels. Small mention of death.

** The author has left out some warnings to create an element of surprise with certain topics in/throughout this chapter. Reader discretion is advised. **

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: I am aware that a lot of concepts and ideas throughout this fic will not be historically and biblically accurate. I've done my fair share of research about pirates of all kinds, from all different eras and countries, and I know pirates never lived lavishly; they didn't have proper tools for healthy hygiene, they never had 'fancy' meals, they never had access to first aid/doctors to help tend to their wounds after battle or when illness struck, their beds were often nothing but a wooden board and some thin cloth. I know not all dubloons rounded off to $16, and gems were rare to find. I know that in some eras, guns and bows didn't even exist, making combat difficult and more intense with only swords and daggers alike. I know chewing tobacco and pipes were commonly used, and STDs were common amongst the members of the crews.

Let me reinstate that.. **I AM AWARE OF ALL OF THIS AND SO MUCH MORE** 

However, for the sake of this fic and where I wanted it to go, I changed a lot of those things. I pulled a lot of inspiration for this fic not only from Lalalala MV and the Rockstar comeback, but from video games that I’ve played that had pirates and jarls and thieves alike in them as well (mostly ESO, Skyrim, Assassins Creed, ect.).

So, as I've said, I am aware not everything in this is accurate, a lot of the lore and concepts are farfetched and not entirely realistic, but at the end of the day, there is NOTHING realistic about Pirate SKZ 😋

Happy Reading Everyone! Your thoughts and feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy! ♡

Serpent Point was, by far, the most repulsive city you've ever set foot in, and you were ashamed that you had once called the place home.

The small city sprawled out like an ugly scar across the dirty coastline, barely protected by the dead and decaying trees of the forest surrounding it. With rusted hulls, scavenged scraps, and towering heaps of trash, it felt as though it was built by the vermin that scurried across the streets and flooded the docks. Salt and sweat hung heavy in the air, mixed with the sharp sting of tobacco smoke and the lingering fumes of the nearby fish-processing plant, making anybody who stepped foot on Serpent Point soil gag from its intensity.

As you walked towards the shore, your old, muddy boots click-clacked against the broken wooden dock, your quartermaster and personal guard flanking your sides. 

"I'll never understand how we always end up back here," Chan spoke with venom in his tone as he eyed the rickety old fort in the distance that was once his childhood home. Even from the shoreline, you could make out the large cracks stretching out across the stone structure, moss and mildew creeping from every fissure like an untreatable disease.

"I don't understand how the two of you even survived here," Lino commented shortly after, a shake of his head causing his chocolate-brown hair to sway back and forth. With a look of utter disgust, he side-stepped an old man who was sprawled on the dirt, hands reaching for Lino’s trousers with desperate, drunken eyes. It wasn't until the old man began shouting incessantly that the smell of alcohol wafted from his mouth straight to your nostrils, and you pinched your nose closed in revolt. 

"Believe me, it wasn't by choice," you murmured, pushing forward and ignoring the babbling drunk. "If it had been, I'd be born anywhere but here."

"Amen," Chan agreed under his breath.

The walk to Fort Foucher, the Jarl's residence, was quick—partially because the city was small, but mostly because the three of you had little patience for the staggering drunks and pitiful beggars who clogged the streets.

Once you reached the entrance to the Fort, the Jarl's guards welcomed you in with disgruntled noises and curses beneath their breaths. The Jarl may have been expecting you, requesting you specifically by name, but that didn't mean his men held any sort of respect towards females in power. They spat nasty remarks and looks of disapproval your way despite the two menacing men at your side, and their frowns deepened impossibly more when you walked past the group of them with a certain confidence in your stride. It took everything in you not to release your dagger from its scabbard and huck it their way.

You were here on special request from the Jarl himself, and if you didn't need the coin he hinted at in his letter, you would have yet to show up to this low-class city to begin with. Killing his men before meeting with the man himself was not the brightest idea, no matter how tempting it may be.

Thankfully, a short, stubby man in a dirty blue coat and off-white stockings signaled from the back of the main foyer, pulling you from your murderous thoughts. He was waiting patiently to guide you to the throne room himself as if you hadn't been inside the Fort countless times before.

After catching your attention, the pudgy male turned and began walking away. He didn't even bother to make sure you were following as he led you down the old, dilapidated hallway to the set of double wooden doors at the end, where the Jarl would be waiting for your arrival just beyond.

The man stopped short just before the entrance to the room, bowed lazily to you and your men, and then opened the doors, granting you access inside. You took a deep breath as the golden light spilt from the room, making the hallway's darkness seem all the more oppressive behind you.

"After you, Cap," Lino spoke in a hushed tone, one hand waving you into the room while the other sat dangerously on the sharp dagger at his hip. His brown eyes flickered around the room, silently scouting for danger before you took another deep, calming puff of air and stepped inwards.

You bowed formally to the man in blue before entering the throne room, nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

The first thing you noticed when you entered was the stench of old tobacco, worse than outside. That, mixed with the scent of wilting flowers and old wax, had you resisting the urge to scrunch your face up in disgust at the odor. It was an odd, unsettling combination, causing bile to rise up your throat that you had to push back down forcefully.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite buccaneer," Jarl Foucher’s voice scraped against your ears in the most unpleasant way. He struggled off of his raggedy old chair and opened his arms wide in welcome with a toothy grin on his face. His long, dirty grey hair was pulled back from his temples, allowing you a full view of his gross, scraggly beard. His teeth were yellow and chipped, his breath reeking of smoke and moonshine even from across the room, and his eyes were wrinkled and faded from their natural green into something almost stale and completely lifeless.

He looked exactly how you remembered him to be.

"Jarl Foucher," you smiled back, the action forced and not at all reaching your eyes. You lowered yourself respectfully to the floor before him, Chan following suit. Meanwhile, Lino remained still at your side, his eyes flittering over the guards cautiously. The raised pink scar that slashed over his left eye and down his cheekbone twitched in anticipation as his body tensed, his face hard as stone.

"Greetings Cristoff," Foucher barely spared his estranged son a glance before his attention was on Lino, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. You turned slightly to glare up at Lino, silently yelling at him to get on the ground and bow to the Jarl, but instead, Lino just stood unwavering, looking calm, cool and completely collected.

“And who may this gentleman be?” Foucher asked, his eyes lingering on the man, sharp and calculating. “I haven’t seen him amongst your crew before.”

“This is my guard, Lino Lee.” You spoke carefully, hoping to break some of the tension that was rolling off of Lino’s shoulders in waves as Foucher analyzed him. He seemed unbothered, but you know it was only an act he performed in the presence of authority figures. He hated Royals with a burning passion.

“The boys and I pulled him from the sea a while back after his boat up and sank, and he’s been indebted to us ever since. Rest assured, he poses you no harm.”

Foucher scrutinized Lino with curiosity, but his gaze eventually returned to you.

“A rogue bandit put in charge of keeping you safe? Surely you’re not that foolish, Captain.” The Jarl’s eyes gleamed with amusement as if he could tell what dirty things were going on between you and Lino behind closed doors. It was hard to resist Lino’s rogue image and impeccable charm, you had to admit that, and you hoped to god it wasn’t as obvious to the Jarl as it was to the rest of your crew.

Yes, you and Lino indulged in each other regularly while out at sea, you were only human after all, but everything that happened between the two of you was purely physical. There were no lingering feelings, second guesses or confusion as to what you two were to each other. You two had been clear and concise from the moment you first took that step only a few months prior, and you were determined to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Not that the Jarl needed to know any of that, but based on the look he was giving the two of you now, you knew he suspected romance was in play. You felt a sudden urge of determination to shut his suspicions down, but you didn’t want to draw any more attention to it than deemed necessary.

“I can assure you, Your Majesty, Lino is no longer a bandit, and as I’ve said, he is indebted to me.” You tried to assure him. “He has pledged himself in my honor and strayed from the path he once walked. I apologize for his defiance, he is still getting accustomed to life on Royal territory.” 

With a nod of his head, Foucher turned his body around to address his guards in a silent conversation, no doubt telling them to keep an eye on the young lad, and in that time, you reached over and punched Lino on his leather-clad arm.

“Ow! Why?” he hissed under his breath.

Ah yes, Lino Lee, the man of many words.

“Show some respect,” you growled in a low tone. “You’re in the presence of the leader of Serpent Point.”

Lino rolled his eyes, his fingers coming down to fiddle with the sheath that one of his two daggers rested in; the matching one sat on his opposite hip.

“After everything he’s done to Chan? To you? Not a chance.” Lino glowered back quietly. You raised your eyebrow and gave him a look of warning at his usual act of defiance. The two of you then stared off for a second, silently challenging one another, before Lino’s eyes fell from yours and he gave in like he always did when it came to you. He may have quickly established himself the title of the crew’s most lethal and loyal protector, but you were the one who had control of the leash.

“Fine,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll be as respectful as I need to be, but I’m not getting on this filthy floor to bow down to him.”

You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at him again. As if he hadn’t lain on floors worse than this in his days of being a delinquent.

A smart-ass remark sat on the tip of your tongue, but before you could release it, Foucher turned back around and clapped his hands, capturing everyone's attention once again.

“Everything alright, Captain?” he asked with a smirk, staring at you as if to say ‘trouble in paradise already?’. You straightened your back and gave him an assured nod of your head.

“Everything is fine, Your Majesty. I do, however, have a lot of work to be done on my ship before our scheduled departure come morning. As much as I hate to cut our visit short, may I ask why you’ve called upon us today?”

The words rolled off your tongue with a bitter aftertaste, but Foucher barely registered the annoyance in your tone, his smile warm as he retreated to his seat.

“Of course,”

You, Chan and Lino, waited patiently in silence while Foucher settled back into the worn-out fabric. A couple of long seconds passed by before he spoke again, his fingers tapping against one another in boredom.

“Queen Aliyah of Cliffpoint Hollow has sent word that she has a criminal sitting in her jailhouse. The criminal in question is a thief who has been robbing me and my men for nearly a decade. He had escaped our jail unnoticed merely three years ago and he’s been evading us ever since.”

You gave Foucher an expressionless look while you waited for him to continue, wondering what any of this had to do with you and your crew. Meanwhile, Chan’s eyes practically bulged out of his face, his mouth open in surprise.

“Wait, the Queen Aliyah? As in-”

“The leader of the land, ruler of Fatewatch? Yes, indeed, the very one.” Foucher confirmed, cutting Chan off without a glance his way. His eyes stayed focused on you as he continued with his proposal.

“I have a chest in my treasury containing more than fifty thousand gold doubloons, alongside a large amount of stolen gems and jewelry. I cannot be bothered to take it all to a moving man, so the lot of it can be yours if you travel to Cliffpoint and bring that thief back to me.”

Your jaw dropped disrespectfully in utter shock, and you felt both boys tense up beside you at the offer. Fifty thousand gold was an unfathomable amount of money. If each of those coins was valued at sixteen dollars a piece like they usually were, you were looking at at least eight hundred thousand dollars in gold, not including the stolen goods.

You’d be stupid to turn that down.

However, if there was anything you learned from your time spent at sea, it was that everything came with a price.

Absolutely everything.

“Sir, I-”

Foucher cut you off abruptly with a raise of his hand.

“I would prefer him alive, but he is known to be quite cocky at times, so if it comes down to it, his dead body will do. Of course, it’ll dock your pay, but I’m sure you’d still have enough to cover the costs to get your beloved ship back in order.”

Foucher waited while you, Lino and Chan exchanged mixed looks of confusion, apprehension and disbelief. The room was silent for a few minutes as the three of you attempted to process the information.

That was until Lino opened his mouth.

“And what exactly is it that this thief stole from you?” Lino spoke suddenly, cocking his head to the side like a cat as he eyed Foucher as if he were merely a peasant and not the goddamn overseer of the entire northern point of Fatewatch. “How bad of a crime did he commit to justify us travelling across the globe to fetch him for you? Why not let the Queen kill him instead?”

“Lino!” you hissed between clenched teeth, seemingly having enough of his attitude. “Will you cu-”

“It’s alright Captain,” Foucher raised his hand to cut you off once more, a sly smile on his face. “The bandit has the right to ask, I suppose.”

Your fingers twitched as Foucher raised from his seat and walked towards the three of you again, his hands folded neatly behind his back. A sense of unease washed over you as you took in his calm and relaxed facade.

“You see when I was a young boy, my mother fell incredibly ill and passed away tragically. When she died, she left behind her ring, one that had been passed down through generations and generations of ancestors before me, and this criminal stole it from right under my nose. He now wears this ring on his pointer finger like some trophy he’s won for robbing me blind. I simply want it back.”

Lino scoffed as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest, raising an eyebrow in defiance. “You want us to travel halfway across the globe to fetch you a flimsy ring?”

Before anyone could say another word, Foucher’s hand retreated from behind his back, and in one swift motion, he backhanded Lino across the face. Foucher’s eyes burned hot as he smacked the younger man, and if it weren’t for Foucher then raising his hands to halt the guards behind him who were bustling for a fight, you would’ve run to Lino’s side.

However, shock rendered you stuck in place.

Lino stood in shock as well at the Jarl’s actions. A strand of hair fell into his face, but he didn’t bother trying to fix it. He simply stood there, eyes angry as he whipped his head back to glare at the Jarl, whose eyes widened in what you could only assume was a sliver of fear at the dangerous look now planted on Lino’s face. 

For a second, you worried for the Jarl’s life, but Lino didn’t move, for which you were thankful. He may have hated Royals with every fiber of his being, but he knew when to fight back and when not to. You silently thanked the gods that he didn’t retaliate.

“Watch your tongue, boy.” Foucher snapped, seemingly masking his terror behind his title of authority. Droplets of spit spewed from his mouth and into Lino’s face. “That ring is a family heirloom. Sixteenth-century gold, embedded with only the finest diamonds and rubies alike. You should be thankful a lowlife pillager like yourself will even be able to set his sights on something so magnificent.”

Without a second thought, Foucher stepped away from a now-fuming Lino and approached you with a wide, almost sadistic smile. The anger in his eyes had vanished so quickly it nearly gave you whiplash, and you had to slightly raise your fingers to stop Lino from rushing to your defense.

“So, Captain. Whaddya say?”

You opened your mouth to give him your answer, to tell him just exactly where he could shove his chest of treasure and stolen goods when Chan spoke up first, cutting you off. His tone was harsh and venomous, clearly pissed at Foucher’s assault on his crewmate.

“But Father,” he paused and corrected himself quickly with a smirk. “Sorry, Foucher. Why are you asking this of us? You have an entire army of men at your beck and call, as well as one of the best navigators in the country no doubt naked in your bed as we speak. Why do you need us to do this for you?”

Although it was meant as a dig at the Jarl and his piggish personality, Foucher laughed humorlessly at Chan’s words. The sound was like metal scraping metal, and it made all the hair on the back of your neck stick up.

“Well because, dear Cristoff,” Foucher spoke his name with a sneer. “Captain Y/N and the crew of the Blackened Heart have unfortunately become infamous across the country. Stories of your victories have been passed through taverns and inns alike for years. It’s the only reason I haven’t called on you to return to my side. If there’s anyone who could travel to Cliffpoint Hollow and bring this criminal back to me, it’s you guys.”

Your face reddened immensely at the Jarl's sudden praise.

“Cliffpoint is merely a few months or so away, and quite frankly, none of my men are trained and confident enough to make the trek themselves. As I said, do this and the three of you, alongside the other five, will be rewarded greatly for your service. We’ll provide you with enough supplies for you and your goons to make the journey there, as long as you bring that scum of a human being back to me so I can put an end to his pathetic life once and for all.”

It felt like a dream. Sure, Cliffpoint Hollow was a long journey from home, halfway across the globe as Lino had pointed out before, but if all you had to do to earn fifty thousand gold was deliver a thief to the Jarl’s doorstep, you’d be stupid not to say yes.

You looked at Lino, whose cheek was still burning red, silently asking for his opinion. He ignored the stinging in his face and shrugged at you nonchalantly, but the twinkle in his eyes showed he was anxious for the adventure.

Or maybe he was just anxious to get the hell away from Serpent Point once and for all before his annoyance took over and he beheaded the Jarl before anyone could blink an eye.

Chan gave you a nod of encouragement as well, clearly desperate to experience the world the way he said he wanted to when he walked out on his father and showed up at your ship all those years ago. This was a free ticket across the globe, something he never would’ve been granted if he still lived under Foucher’s watch. There was no way he was turning this down.

You cocked your head back to look at Foucher, rubbing your hands nervously against the black trousers you wore. You cleared your throat once, bringing yourself to ask the one question you were dying to know since the mission was brought upon you.

“What’s the thief's name?” you inquired with a raised brow. If Foucher was asking this of you, whoever it was had to be important. And transporting important prisoners usually came with enemies who would do anything to make sure the jailbird wouldn't make it back alive. If you were going to potentially put your men in danger, you needed details.

Foucher must’ve mistook your question as a ‘yes’, because he clapped his hands and opened his arms wide, a joyous victory on his lips. He smiled brightly at you and he came forward, wrapping his large, wrinkly hands around your face and holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

The feeling made your gut twist uncomfortably.

“Maybe you’ve heard of him. He’s Scout’s youngest boy. You know Scout, yes?”

Your teeth clenched tightly the second the name left his mouth. A burning coil of anger sparked in your stomach as you recognized the name of the leader of the Thieves Den. The one who took everything from you, including your family. The one who committed the bloodiest heist on Serpent Point soil and still somehow got away. The memory of it punched you in the chest, while the memory of his son nearly brought you to your knees completely.

This was why Foucher wanted you and your crew to do this. This was why he called upon you and your men to take on such a task, making such an unfathomable offer for the job.

Anybody in the world could do it. City patrons and pirates alike have been doing so for years with little to no payout as a reward.

This wasn’t just a delivery mission.

It was a test of loyalty.

One he was expecting you to fail if the sparkle in his eyes was anything to go by.

Fifty thousand gold hung in the balance, and you were determined to get it. Not only for you but for the seven men who happily followed you and worked for you as if you were their Queen.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood, but the Jarl continued to speak, completely unaware of the turmoil happening in your chest.

“He was the one who ambushed me and my men in Fogrush Bay. I believe he goes by -”

“Jisung fucking Han II.” you seethed.

“I’m just saying, if Queen Aliyah is the leader of all of Fatewatch, why does she live on a whole other continent instead of here?” Lino grumbled, trailing after you and Chan as the three of you made your way back to the docks. His confusion drew hearty laughs from you and Chan, echoing in the quiet dawn that settled over the town.

“Who knows, Li,” you shrugged, stepping aside to let a small carriage clatter past before falling back in line. “Maybe the rum is just better in Cliffpoint.”

Lino scowled, unimpressed. “Doesn’t make a damn bit of sense to me.”

You chuckled, enjoying how such a trivial mystery could get under his skin so easily. It was a welcome distraction from the anxiety that still swirled in your gut after that tense meeting with Foucher. Lino probably sensed it too; he had a knack for reading your mood without a word, one of the reasons why he was such a reliable guard—and an even better lover if you might add.

“Nothing ever makes sense to you, Lino. You’re about as dense as Paisley’s baking.” Chan’s grin was wide as he gave Lino a playful shove, making him stumble.

“Oh, shut it, Chan,” Lino muttered back, though a reluctant smile crept onto his face as he regained his footing.

“Just another one of life's greatest mysteries,” you teased.

Lino rolled his eyes, nose wrinkling in irritation. “Like the time you got all riled up about why cats stick their tongues out when they’re happy.” you then added with a grin.

Lino’s dark eyes slid to you, narrowing in a faux glare. “Yeah, well, at least felines are cute.” You snickered and patted him on the back in mock reassurance.

“Hey. I hear Queen Aliyah’s pretty cute too.” You winked, but Lino’s gaze darkened to a scowl, and for a moment, you caught the dangerous edge in his expression, sending goosebumps down your arms.

“As if I give a damn,” Lino sneered. “You know how much I despise royals.”

Chan clicked his tongue disapprovingly, bringing your attention back to him. “Listen, Lino,” he smirked, pink creeping up his cheeks. “You don’t have to fancy royals for them to be a good lay.”

His words made you scoff and cross your arms before granting him a bored look. “Oh, please Channie—you’re practically a virgin.”

Chan’s eyes widened, mouth gaping, too stunned to speak as he tripped over his own feet. Righting himself, he looked at you in betrayed disbelief.

“I am not!” he finally managed, clutching his chest dramatically. You ignored the strange looks the three of you were now receiving from passers-by and gave him a sly but interested smile in return.

“Oh, is that so? You’ve spent the last eight years at sea with me. When exactly would you have had a chance to ‘entertain’ a royal?”

The colour in Chan’s cheeks deepened, and suddenly, he looked like a man with a story to tell. He shrugged, straightening with a newfound confidence before Lino draped an arm over his shoulders in intrigue.

“Let’s just say, Jarl Alderidge’s daughter wasn’t the only woman I… indulged in back when I was set to court her,” he admitted. You and Lino both raised your eyebrows at him in question, trying to piece together his meaning.

Chan had left his father's side when he was barely eighteen years old. He was set to court and marry a royal from a few cities over, but he left shortly after the courting began.  You blinked a couple of times, thinking back to the awful family he was supposed to be wed into, and realisation finally dawned on you as the pieces fell into place. Your stomach turned in mock disgust as you reached out and gave him a light punch on the arm.

“Oh, for the love of—Jarl Alderidge’s wife?”

Chan blocked your half-hearted blow, laughing. “What? Lady Tatiana is a beautiful woman, and the opportunity presented itself. Who was I to deny her?”

You aimed another punch his way, but Lino quickly tugged you back with a laugh, one hand wrapped around your waist while the other clapped Chan on the shoulder. “Good grief, Channie, you should have been born in a brothel.”

The two of them snorted, and you rolled your eyes, suppressing the urge to smack the pride off their faces.

“Does Paisley know about this?” you asked, shaking off Lino’s arm and falling back into step beside them.

“Of course, she knows.” Chan’s expression softened at the mention of his soon-to-be wife. “I’d never keep anything from her. Paisley and I—there’s nothing we wouldn’t tell each other.”

You and Lino exchanged a look, simultaneously groaning in exaggerated disgust.

“Ew.”

“Gross.”

Chan shook his head and gave the two of you a pointed stare.

“What’s the matter with you two?” he asked, clearly offended by your reactions.

“Human connection is what’s the matter,” you answered with a shrug.

“It’s absolutely sickening,” Lino added with a cringe.

Chan's face fell. “What? What’s so gross and sickening about having an open and honest relationship with the one I love most? What is it about having someone to come home to after weeks at sea that makes the two of you so disgusted?”

You gagged theatrically. 

“Literally every part of what you just said.”

Chan then rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated. 

“You two are closer than anyone else I know. Isn’t that deeper than what Paisley and I have? Seungmo and Millie? Jinn and Ophelia?”

You let out a long sigh as the three of you finally stepped back onto the old, decaying dock. The boards of wood groaned beneath your feet, some barely holding together. “Oh please, Channie. There is absolutely nothing romantic between Lino and me. We’re just… mutually beneficial.”

“Right,” Lino agreed as you squeezed past the rows of empty carts crowding the walkway. “I’d rather jab a dagger into my own eye than settle down.”

Chan shot the bandit a look of pure disbelief.

“And I’m the one who belongs in a brothel?”

Both you and Lino shared a final laugh as you approached your ship, anchored at the end of the dock like a beast at rest. Leading the way, you crossed the narrow plank that bridged the dock to your vessel, landing with a solid thud.

Jinn, your sharp-eyed sailing master, was leaning against the railing, chewing idly on tobacco, while Binni, your burly artilleryman, sat next to him on a creaky old stool, the two of them mid-conversation. Their words stopped short the instant you touched down.

“Welcome back, Cap.” Jinn greeted, flicking his head to the side as he spat overboard without care. “How did things go with the Jarl?”

You let out a heavy exhale, mind already on the meeting you’d be calling shortly with the rest of your crew. They wouldn’t be happy that you decided on this new job alone; normally, the entire crew weighs in before a vote is held. But today, your gut had already made the call.

“Went fine. Important business,” you replied with a curt nod of your head, watching as Jinn’s expression tightened slightly in response. You then turned to Chan, the light-hearted mood from earlier gone. As soon as your feet hit the surface of your ship, it was business as usual. “Get everyone together below deck. Crew meeting in ten.”

Chan nodded, the humour in his eyes vanishing as he took off to round up the others. You barely spared him a second glance as you turned back to Jinn, whose lounging posture now told you he had no intention of springing into action like his crewmate.

“Are the twins back yet?” you asked.

“Not last I saw,” Jinn replied. “They went down to the market.” He raised a brow and shrugged, clearly unconcerned.

You let out a quiet sigh and glanced at Binni, who only gave you a knowing smile in return.

“Go get them, Jinn. We’re in a hurry.” 

You watched with little patience as Jinn rolled his eyes with all the petulance of a bored child. “Why me? Binni’s been sitting here gnawing on jerky all day. Let him get off his ass for once.” he complained in his typical tone of defiance.

Binni raised his eyebrows, slowly standing as he glowered at the younger male. Although he was a head shorter than Jinn, his solid build made him all the more imposing. He loomed over Jinn with a look that would send most men scurrying away in fear, but Jinn, ever used to the infamous glower, held his ground unfazed.

Before either of them could escalate, you stepped in between them, pushing each back a step.

“Enough,” you snapped before turning your glare back to your navigator. “Jinn, unless you’ve suddenly developed a talent for taking stock and loading the armoury, I suggest you stop whining and get moving.”

Jinn's face turned red, and with a small bow of compliance, he brushed past you, grumbling as he left the ship.

“Move it!” you called after him. “We don’t have all day!”

“I know, Cap!” he yelled back, though he picked up the pace as he disappeared down the dock. You watched him go in the dying light of day, shaking your head. “One more comment like that, Jinn, and you’ll be scrubbing bird shit off this deck for a month!”

Jinn spun to bow quickly once more before breaking into a jog, knowing full well you meant it. With a sigh, you turned back to Binni, but he was already stowing the stool and heading off below deck, tossing a salute over his shoulder.

“Inventory check. I’ll meet you down there when I’m done.”

You gave Binni a thankful smile as he ran off, leaving you to stand in the light of the sunset alone. There was a light breeze coming off the ocean across from you, and you allowed yourself a brief moment of peace, watching the sky morph from blues and whites to purples and pinks and oranges.

The smell of saltine water, the cool breeze of the summer air, the soft sway of the ship, the caw of gulls wheeling overhead. It was moments like these, moments of complete serenity, that you enjoyed the most, that made you feel completely grounded. It made you feel sentimental, reminiscing back to when you began your life as the first female pirate in all of Fatewatch. It reminded you why you began adventuring in the first place.

You stood for what felt like hours, watching the sky morph and change with each passing second. You admired the way the sun lowered itself on the horizon, bright and satisfied at the day's end, and how the clouds and warmth seemed to chase it. And although you always found the rise and fall of the large orange star in the sky beautiful, you couldn’t deny that you were aching for nightfall.

“You’ve been staring at that horizon for a long time now, Y/N.”

A slow smile spread across your face at the sound of the wooden artificial leg being dragged against the surface of the ship. A wooden door closing against its hinges a second later had you popping your eyes away from the sky to come face-to-face with the blue-haired boy from across the way.

“The Captain won’t like you skipping important meetings.” Yongbok teased with a smile. You sent him a bright grin as your arms folded across your chest.

“Hello Yongbokki.” you greeted, bumping your shoulder with his when he stopped beside you. He took a moment to gracefully lean his body against the railing behind him, a small wince flashing quickly across his freckled face. He was still getting used to living with his new leg, and you reached a hand out instinctively help support him.

“You guys made it back just in time,” he spoke as if he wasn’t in any pain at all, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was no longer looking at you, but out across the ocean at the same horizon you were moments before, you would’ve scowled at him for trying to play it off.

“I think I finally perfected those salmon steaks I’ve been struggling with for the last month.” His eyes sparkled with pride and excitement at his small victory, meanwhile, your stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. You clapped him on the back with a pleased laugh. 

“Perfect timing, Yongbokki. We’ll have to set the table for everyone before the meeting starts. I have a feeling the boys will take my news better on full stomachs.”

Yongboks grin turned suspicious, one brow arched as you pushed yourself off the railing you were also leaning against and held a hand out to help him stand. 

“What did you do this time, Cap?” he teased. “Sold Binni to another cathouse I presume?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing once more as you took hold of his hand and headed towards the creaky old door that led below deck. “Will you let that go? That was one time!”

Yongbok’s laughter echoed as you entered the ship, veering down to the kitchen at the end of the corridor. “One time too many, Cap. If it happens again, I’m afraid Bin will be gone for good.”

Jinn returned moments after everyone else had settled at the dining table, Jeo and Seungmo trailing behind. The three of them exchanged quiet jokes as they hastily took their seats, their faces lighting up at the sight of the meal before them.

Fish steaks, steaming and fragrant, rested on thick wooden plates that Binni had crafted weeks prior. Cutlery was arranged meticulously beside them and metal tankards were filled to the brim with ale, allowing the table to be a testament to the care Yongbokki had poured into the preparation.

You leaned back slightly, observing your crew as they dug into the meal. Despite the unease swirling in your gut, you waited, letting them savour the peace of a shared dinner table before revealing the storm on the horizon.

You watched as Jinn, ever the orderly one, gestured for Seungmo to take the breadbasket from his hands, the corners of his mouth twitching up as he said, “You’ll thank me later for making sure you’re not just eating meat, Mo.”

Seungmo rolled his eyes, tearing into a piece of bread but muttering something about ‘overbearing mother hens.’ Jeo chuckled, his fox-like eyes catching yours briefly before he focused on his plate.

You felt the weight of the news pressing against your chest as you watched them—your crew, your family. The money Foucher offered was good, almost impossibly good, but there was that nagging whisper in the back of your mind, the one that suggested it might not be enough to sway them. Especially not Jinn and Seungmo.

When most of the plates were cleared, Jeo broke the casual hum of conversation. He wiped his mouth with a serviette and leaned forward slightly, his sharp, curious eyes locking onto yours.

“So, Cap,” he began, his tone light but pointed. “What’s this meeting for?”

Binni shifted, leaning back in his chair and tossing you a quizzical look, meanwhile, Seungmo perked up, his brows drawing together.

“Oh yeah! The meeting with Foucher. How’d it go?” his voice held a genuine curiosity, though you could see he was already trying to piece together why it needed to involve all of them.

Setting your fork down, you glanced at Lino and Chan, both of whom offered small, encouraging nods. That gave you just enough courage to speak.

“The meeting with Foucher went...well.” you began carefully, letting your words hang as you measured everyone's reactions. “He’s got another job for us.”

That caught their attention. Forks paused mid-air, and a hush settled over the surrounding tables where the two and a half dozen sailors under your command sat, waiting for you to finish. Jinn tilted his head slightly, studying you with a guarded expression as he began gathering a small stack of empty plates.

“What kind of job this time?” he asked, voice calm but curious.

You hesitated for a brief moment. “He wants us to travel to Cliffpoint Hollow,” you said finally, your voice firmer now. “We’re to escort a prisoner back to him.”

The impact of your words was immediate. Jeo, mid-drink, choked and nearly sent his ale spewing across the table, causing Lino to reach over and clap his back while he spluttered about.

“Cliffpoint Hollow?” Binni straightened abruptly, his easygoing demeanour gone. His wide eyes pinned you in place at your end of the table. “Did you just say Cliffpoint Hollow?”

“I did,” you confirmed with a single nod. Silence fell over the room again for a moment before Jeo spoke up once more.

“Captain, with all due respect,” he started in a gruff tone from his choking, his fingers now toying with the handle of the metal tankard in front of him. “We’re supposed to be on break right now. Seungmo’s dying to get home to see Millie, and Jinn still has yet to even meet his kid. I don’t think any of us could take on another adventure.”

Seungmo cast a glance towards you. Though he kept his expression neutral, the flicker of disappointment on his face was unmistakable. He was usually calm and composed, but even he had his limits.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple before clasping your hands together on the table before you. You watched as Chan began wiping the dirty surface with an old rag before you continued your plea.

“Look, guys, I understand.” you grimaced before meeting Seungmo’s gaze again. He was leaning against the archway to the kitchenette, waiting for whatever you were to say next. “I know we were all looking forward to this break. But Foucher offered us more money than we’ve ever seen for a single job before—and you know what that kind of coin could mean for all of us.”

“Enough for how long though?” Binni asked with a wary glance. “I mean, we risk our necks for him time and time again, and all he does is keep upping the stakes. First, it’s cargo runs, now prisoner escorts halfway across the globe?”

Yongbok nodded in agreement from where he was standing next to Seungmo with his arms folded across his chest. His usual smile was nowhere to be found. “Binni’s right. This isn’t just a supply run or a simple trade, Cap. Cliffpoint Hollow, as beautiful as it may be, is nearly six months away, and that's if the ship is sturdy enough to make it. There's no other towns and outposts across the open waters for miles. There’s nowhere to stop for resupply, and if the rumours are true, those waters are crawling with hostiles.”

Murmurs of concern spread throughout the dining room, each of your men weighing the risk in their minds, grumbling and conversing in distress. You had to raise a hand to quiet them all down once more.

“I hear you guys. Believe me, I do. Your concerns and uneasiness do not go unnoticed. But this is fifty thousand gold we’re talking about here.  That’s not counting the stolen jewellery and gems Foucher’s throwing in as part of the deal.”

Jeo’s eyes widened, his initial shock giving way to an almost childlike excitement. Yongbok, too, couldn’t hide his intrigue, though he tried to mask it. Even Binni, skeptical as ever, seemed to soften at the mention of the payout.

But Jinn and Seungmo remained unmoved. Jinn crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “How do we even know he’s good for it?” he asked. “Did you see the loot, or are we just taking his word?”

“I saw it,” you said sharply, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I wouldn’t be here asking this if I wasn’t sure.”

You didn’t need to see the loot to know Foucher had it. The loot was rightfully yours after all, though you weren’t about to admit that to your crew. You’d been keeping your past a secret from them for years, and the less they knew about it, the better.

Everyone was silent for another moment before Binni set the feet of his chair down on the wooden floorboards and leaned forward, his interest piqued.

“When does he want us to leave?” He asked. His tone was casual, but the weight of the question hung heavy. You swallowed roughly and let out an exhale

“At dawn.”

Seungmo was the first one to crack under the pressure. He surged forward in annoyance, his feet scratching loudly against the floor. 

“Are you fucking mad?” His voice rang with frustration, his cheeks flushed. “Jinn and I are supposed to be home by the end of the week. Home, Cap. To our wives!” His hand hit the table with a dull thud, punctuating his words as he leaned over the table. “You promised us the summer to rest!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Seungmo was too far gone, his emotions taking over. “We just finished a brutal job from Hawthorne, and now you want us to play delivery boys for Foucher? Do you even hear yourself?”

Your jaw tightened. The reaction wasn’t unexpected, but the raw edge in Seungmo’s voice still cut deep. The room bristled with the tension of his outburst.

“Seung, sit down,” Lino said evenly, though his voice carried an edge of warning. His gaze darted briefly to you before returning to Seungmo. Seungmo, however, ignored Lino’s demand and hit the table again with another thud.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” his laugh was bitter. “We were supposed to go home. I mean, did you even stop to consider Jinn and I? I have a wife at home waiting for me, fuck. Jinn has a wife and a newborn baby boy that he hasn’t even met yet! Are you trying to tell me we’re not allowed to go home and see them? That we have to stop our lives and do Foucher’s bidding once again?”

“Seungmo, that’s enough!” Lino growled, his eye calculating the younger male’s every move. He knew Seungmo would never outwardly hurt you, not intentionally anyway, but Seungmo’s temper was a force all its own.

You stood abruptly then, slamming your hand down on the table hard enough to rattle the few tankards that were still being used. The sound snapped the room’s attention back to you. Your blood was beginning to boil from his insinuation.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” you snapped, your voice rising with authority. “You don’t think I took any of that into consideration when Foucher offered us the deal?” you nearly snarled at him. The room fell silent once more, every pair of eyes on you as you pushed forward, your voice shaking with conviction. 

“Of course, I want you two to go home and spend time with your family. I want all of us to have a break. But this isn’t just about today or tomorrow, Seungmo. This is about our future. All of ours. I want you and Yongbokki to have enough money to open the inn that you guys are always raving and ranting about in every goddamn city we stop in. I want Jinn to be able to afford a nursery for his son so the poor thing doesn’t have to room with them until he’s of age to leave home. I want Jeo to have enough money to open the orphanage he’s been planning out since he was thirteen, and I want Lino to start up the Fighter’s Guild in Eagles Bay. I want Chan and Binni to buy their own ship one day and continue on the legacy we started. I want all of us to be happy and content, and with the payout from this job, I know we can get all of that and more.”

You squeezed your hand into a fist and dug your nails into your skin, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down before finishing.

“I only want what’s best for all of you.” your voice ran with unyielding conviction, though a tremor of emotion lurked beneath the surface. You swept your gaze over the rest of your crew members once before landing back on Seungmo again. “Don’t you dare, for even a second, think I don’t put you guys first in every decision I make.”

The room fell eerily silent. The faint sound of waves lapping against the dock outside was the only movement in the air, the tension thick and palpable. Seungmo’s hard expression wavered, his eyes narrowing slightly as your words pierced through his frustration. The defiance that had lit his face moments before began to soften, replaced by the faint shine of regret.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort.

“I-I’m sorry, Cap,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He dropped his head, the tips of his ears burning red. “I’m sorry for lashing out.” His hand moved quickly, swiping away at the corner of his eye before disappearing behind his messy brown hair.

The sight of Seungmo, the crews usually unshakable morale booster, humbled like this tugged at your chest. You leaned forward, reaching across the table to rest a hand on his shoulder. The fabric beneath your touch was worn but familiar, and you pressed your thumb into small circles, a gesture of quiet reassurance.

“It’s alright, Seung. Take a breath,” you said gently, the edge in your tone giving way to warmth.  You waited as he inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself.

“I understand your frustrations, and I’m sorry for not consulting with you guys first. If you truly want to go home, if any of you do…” you paused, letting your eyes sweep across the room. “We’ll drop you off on the way out. No hard feelings. Chan will keep your share safe until we return.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than before, a quiet reckoning passing through the room. Jeo fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his wide eyes darting nervously between Seungmo and Jinn, while Yongbok began chewing on the nail of his thumb, a nervous habit he picked up years ago. 

It was Binni who finally broke the tension, leaning back in his chair with his usual devilish grin. “I think I can speak for the majority of us when I say, we’re with you, Captain.” He let out a bark of laughter, his chair tilting precariously. “You’re a crazy sonofa bitch, but you’re our crazy sonofa bitch. I’m in.”

Jeo let out a breath of relief and nodded. “Me too,” he said, his voice lighter, though the faintest trace of unease lingered in his eyes.

“Aye,” Yongbok called out with glee.

You felt a swell of gratitude, but the real test lay in the two pairs of eyes that hadn’t yet confirmed their loyalty; Jinn and Seungmo. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath as attention shifted toward them.

Jinn was the first to speak, his mouth quirking into a faint smile.

“I’ve been meaning to pay a visit to Cliffpoint,” he said, his voice rumbling through the stillness. “If Ophelia finds out I had the chance to see her homeland and didn’t take it, I’d never hear the end of it.” His grin widened as he glanced around at the rest of the crew. “Besides, it’s not a true journey without all of us. Eight makes fate.”

Your heart lifted at his words, and you gave him a grateful nod before turning to Seungmo. All eyes fell on the young man, who shifted uncomfortably under their weight. His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered the implications of the decision before him.

The silence stretched, almost unbearable, until Seungmo let out an exasperated huff of laughter. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head as a reluctant grin tugged at his mouth.

You didn’t wait for him to say more. You reached across the table, pulling him into a firm, grateful hug. His shoulders were tense for a moment before he relaxed. Letting out soft chuckles as you squeezed him.

“Oh, hush up,” you said with a laugh, releasing him and falling back in your chair with ease. “By this time next year, we’ll be the richest pirates in all of Fatewatch.”

Jinn ran a hand through his hair, leaning casually against the edge of the table. His easy smile faltered for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of concern.

“I hope you’re right about this, Cap.” he said, his voice quieter now, though it held more warmth than doubt.

You felt that same unease twist in your gut but pushed it down, forcing a confident smile onto your face.

“I’m always right,” you replied, your voice steady. But as the room began to fill with the hum of conversation and plans for the journey ahead, that gnawing feeling in your gut refused to leave.

Because deep down, you knew this wasn't just another job. It wasn't just another risk.

This was a gamble with the stakes stacked so high that one wrong move could unravel everything you worked your ass off for—and not even fifty-thousand gold could buy your way out.

Tags: @moonlightndaydreams @collisvng @frequentlykit @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @n0y4 @chuuyaobsessed @newhope8 @palindrome969 @krayzieestay @lunearta @nightmarenyxx @queen-in-the-shadows

[dazaispinkietoe]

Levi Analysis !!

OKAY LEVIS BIRTHDAY ANALYZING HIM WITH DR PEPPER IN MY DR PEPPER SHIRT LETS GO YIPEE

Brief description of his character, Leviathan is the 3rd eldest/most powerful brother of the seven. He’s the sin of envy, for some reason a Navy general, but mostly known for his introverted personality and social anxiety. 

In Celestia, Leviathan carried out a similar role. But unlike the other brothers, he wasn’t much happier than he was in Devildom. In Nightbringer, Leviathan says that he felt like he didn’t belong anywhere. He felt like he had no purpose, which is likely why he took on these big roles, feeling like without them he’s just a waste of space. Touching on this, that’s one of the reasons for his sin. I’ve talked about this before, but because of the displacement Leviathan felt, his reaction was one of envy, looking down on himself for what others had that he didn’t, and once he did have it, moved on to something else. He can’t be satisfied because of this, which is why he constantly plays games that he can consistently level up in or at least use to distract himself. That could also be one of the reasons he has so many outbursts. If you’re constantly distracting yourself, when you’re not able to, you don’t handle it as well. Instead of being like Belphegor, though, all of the external and internal self hatred causes Leviathan to lash out in a different way. Instead of having an annoyed reaction, he has more of a “How dare you?” reaction. I can assume this is because he feels like everyone has so much more than him, which leads to him thinking that because everyone must have so much more than him, they must be trying to brag. 

This is also why he is so protective and obsessive about his interests. When he finds something, he wants to make sure he stays at the top of it, so he can at least be good at something. When that’s challenged, he starts feeling worse than normal, and that form of escapism isn’t really escapism but more like a chore or something he has to do to just stay at the top of. I could imagine that he also feels like a failure and blames himself for Lilith’s death. His job in Celestia had to do with keeping people safe after all, and he couldn’t even do that for the person closest to him. Not only that, but after everything he was still thrown out. Now he had to start over again, with people actually judging him. After he fell from Celesita, Leviathan felt isolated. He didn’t have a title here, or anything to do but sit back and play his games. Until he met Henry, he felt totally alone, his brothers didn’t really want to interact very much, and if they did there were pretty much always arguments or fights. Once he met Henry, he felt like he could understand someone for once, even if that someone was just a snake. Snakes are known for being feared, or seen as vermin that need to be removed. He could probably empathize with the snake, especially after Henry had pretty much wandered into their house, where he wasn’t really welcome. Leviathan had similar features as Henry, too, with his tail being similar to serpents or sea snakes.  

But eventually, he had to let that snake go. Not because it was unhappy, it was really the opposite. Him and the snake got along too well, but Leviathan was too insecure to see that. He thought he was holding the snake back, so he opened the tank to let him go, and Henry left because he thought Leviathan needed more friends. This reminds me of Leviathan’s relationship with MC in a way. In a lot of the chats Leviathan is in, he’s insulting himself, talking about how MC is the only person to understand him, or apologizing in the form of self deprecation. He probably feels like MC deserves better than him and is trying to give MC excuses for why they should leave him. 

Leviathan is also extremely empathetic. I feel like a lot of people ignore this side of him, but he has a tendency to give inanimate objects personalities or feelings, like how he was afraid to go into a store alone because he felt like the clothes were judging him. One of the articles I read on this said this could be because of over inclusivity, which would make sense because if you feel left out you’re more likely to try harder to not let anything else feel the same. 

I HAVE MORE TO SAY BUT IM RLLY ON A TIME CRUNCH RN AND HAVENT HAD MUCH MOTIVATION IM SORRY </3

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEVIATHAN I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH

[tg-pilled]

Tokyo Ghoul Characters as MCR songs

This is for shits and giggles, please don't take this too serious. I originally wanted to cover Every album and compare Every song to a character from each album and then realized nobody cares that deeply so here is a brief version!

Kaneki - Famous Last Words - "Can you see my eyes are shining bright? 'Cause I'm out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and I'm so weak. Is it hard understanding, I'm incomplete?"

Haise - AMBULANCE - "And we will wear our masks again, out after dark, 'cause we are up for everything it takes, and we are not the same."

Ginshi - Cancer - "But counting down the days to go, it just ain't living, and I just hope you know that if you say goodbye today, I'd ask you to be true because the hardest part of this is leaving you."

Urie - Sleep - "Don't you breathe for me, undeserving of your sympathy, 'cause there ain't no way I'm sorry for what I did."

Mutsuki - DESTROYA - "With duct-tape scars on my honey, they don't like who you are. You won't like where we'll go, brother, protect me now."

Saiko - The Kids from Yesterday - "All the cameras watch the accidents and stars you hate. They only care if you can bleed. Does the television make you feel the pills you ate or every person that you need to be?"

Arima - The Foundations of Decay - "Let the flesh submit itself to gravity. Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame. Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain. Now if your convictions were a passing phase, may your ashes feed the river in the morning rays. And as the vermin crawls we lay in the foundations of decay."

Hide - The World is Ugly - "These are their hearts, but their hearts don't beat like ours. They burn 'cause they are all afraid. But mine beats twice as hard, 'cause the world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me."

Touka - The Ghost of You - "At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies, she dies. At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are never coming home."

Hinami - Cemetary Drive - "If you want, I'll keep on crying. Did you get what you deserve? Is this what you always want me for? I miss you."

Ayato - Thank You for the Venom - "I keep a gun in the book you gave me. Hallelujah, lock and load. Black is the kiss, the touch of the serpent son."

Nishiki - The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You - "Gaze into her killing jar, I'd sometimes stare for hours. She even poked the holes so I can breathe."

Eto - Give 'Em Hell Kid - "Some might say we are made from the sharpest things you say. We are young and we don't care. Your dreams and your hopeless hair. We never wanted it to be this way for all our lives."

Naki - The Only Hope for Me is You - "Because you're the only hope for me. And if we can't find where we belong, we'll have to make it on our own."

Takizawa - House of Wolves - "Tell me I'm an angel, take this to my grave. Tell me I'm a bad man, kick me like a stray."

Tsukiyama - Romance - There's no lyrics but the vibe is *chefs kiss*

Uta - I Never Told You What I Do for a Living - "It ain't the money and it sure as hell ain't just for the fame, it's for the bodies I claim and lose. Only go so far 'til you bury them so deep and down we go, down."

Renji - Headfirst for Halos - "And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall, fall on your tongue like pixie dust, just think happy thoughts, and we'll fly home."

Juuzou - Mama - "Well, mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue. You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son."

Rize - Our Lady of Sorrows - "We could be perfect lovers one last night, and die like star-crossed lovers when we fight."

Akira - Skylines and Turnstiles - "We walk in single file. We light our rails and punch our time. Ride escalators colder than a cell. The broken city-sky, like butane on my skin, stolen from my eyes."

Amon - Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back - "For all of us who've seen the light, salute the dead and lead the fight. Who gives a damn if we lose the war? Let the walls come down, let the engines roar."

Feel free to add your own interpretations but these are songs that I think relate to the characters! :)

[embermoonsworld]

Olrox Headcanons

.Olrox was the son of a Tetechutin, a high lord of Aztec culture (he seems too regal and sophisticated to have just been a commoner. Another tell he was probably royalty or nobility is his emerald earring as only royals/nobles could wear them).

.Though polygamy was common among Aztec nobility, his father was loyal only to his mother. This is what inspired him to be a loyal, devoted partner.

.He was young when the conquistadors came, about in his mid to late teens.

.He blames Montezuma for his empire's downfall because he foolishly let the invaders live instead of killing them on sight. He believes it would've saved them so much trouble.

.He and his family kept their titles as a result of the conquest and the implementation of the Spanish order (because the Spanish king saw it as a way of pacifying the local nobles). However, the rest of his people were forced into hard labor under the Spanish encomtenda (landlord). He hated every moment he was forced to bear the Spainards but kept it in for the sake of his remaining family.

.He saw many friends and family members die either by warfare or disease. He suffers survivor's guilt as a result. This also began his greatest fear- losing loved ones and feeling helpless to stop it.

.Olrox was turned in the year 1533 and was between his late 20s-early thirties.

.His sire was an incredibly ancient and powerful Olmec vampire (Olmecs were the ancestors of the Aztecs and lived thousands of years before they did). He/she was a priest/priestess of the god Quetzalcoatl in their human life and, for whatever reason, made a pact with the serpent deity to become a vampire. Olrox then made a similar pact when they turned him and that's why Olrox is so powerful- his sire was very powerful and very ancient, at least 1500-2000+ years old.

.Olrox slaughtered the encomtenda and other local oppressors that had indentured his people, freeing many of the Aztec slaves as well, some of them following Olrox and being turned by him. After that, he began traveling the world. He would cross paths with many so called vampire hunters. Well, you all know how that fared for them.

.After two centuries, Olrox had long become the lord of the vampires in the Americas, (possibly being one of the first vampires in the New World). His reputation is what possibly drove Julia Belmont to hunt vampires in America.

.His feathered serpent form is the result of his sire's pact with Quetzalcoatl.

.He met his Mohican lover at least a decade or so before the Native American was killed by Julia.

.His lover refused to feed on human blood, only animal blood. Olrox respected his wishes. Olrox even followed his example by splitting his feedings between animals and humans.

.Olrox protected his lover on the battlefield when he fought in the Revolutionary War.

.Olrox is bisexual but leans more towards men. Homosexuality was frowned upon in Aztec society and for a long time he struggled with it.

.His favorite color is purple.

.His favorite flowers are orchids.

.His favorite food was tamales.

.His eyes were light green even as human. According to him, he got the color from his mother.

.His preference for feeding on the rich stems from his deeply ingrained grudge against rich white men. Although, he equates rich white men to diseased vermin at times since they brought plagues to his people.

.He would never feed on women, children or the elderly. He's not that cruel.

.In vampire society, he's attained the status of an aristocrat. He understands that power and wealth is what drives the world and plays the game if just to survive and keep from ever being powerless or enslaved again.

. It's not that he hates money and wealth, it's that he hates corrupt people using money and status to harm others.

.In his 250+ years as a vampire noble, he's accumulated an insane amount of wealth, power and influence. He gets his wealth mainly from his own trading company and has many trade partners all over the world (most of them vampires). You won't find him complaining about his massive bank account.

.He's come to love British tea and began trading in it. He was PISSED when one of his shipments was ruined in the Boston Tea Party.

.The earrings he wears are relics from his Aztec culture and from his days as a human, as is his obsidian dagger.

.He's acquired a taste for fine wine, as well as all the finer things in life. He's also more than a bit vain, dressing in only the finest clothes and using only the most expensive soaps and oils for his skin and hair. He was born into wealth and luxury after all. He also detests getting dirty but still will if he has no other choice.

.The ghostly skulls he summons in battle come from the Spirit World as he can open portals to the realm.

.He knows a lot of spells and magic and is quite the mystical scholar.

.He has a large python and a jaguar as pets back home.

.He still enjoys eating regular food very much, like most vampires do.

.He's very much an avid reader, and has taken a liking to English literature.

.He'll admit: he loves European fashions and loves the way silk and satin feels against his skin. He will NOT however in this, or any lifetime, wear a powdered wig! You won't catch him staked with one on and whoever came up with them was obviously mentally retarded.

.He goes back to Mexico every year to visit and honor the graves of his loved ones on Dia Del Los Muertos.

.He took his lover's body back to Stockbridge and buried him in a spot that held sentimental value to the both of them- like underneath a favorite tree or by the river where they spent so much time together.

.Olrox combs his hair at least one hundred times.

.One of the hardest parts Olrox went through when he first became a vampire was learning to eat and talk without stabbing his lip or tongue with his newly acquired, lethally sharp fangs

.Olrox doesn't feel the need to drain humans dry when he feeds- he can get by perfectly fine on a small, safe amount. To him, such an act is quite barbaric, not to mention a gluttonous waste. That is, of course, unless said human truly pisses him off.

.He abhors slavery and sympathizes with slaves- he knew what it was like to have his people become enslaved. All of his subjects follow him willingly because he inspires great loyalty in them as well as ruling them with fairness and compassion. He's even freed a number of human slaves across the globe as well.

.Olrox is a very devoted, passionate and affectionate lover. His significant others or lovers would experience unparalled romance and pampering at the Aztec vampire's side. He loves to cuddle and is very "touchy-feely.'' The sex is also out of this world!!!

.Olrox doesn't like to be referred to as an "Aztec'' as that was a term coined by the Spanish. His people were really called the Mexica (that's how Mexico got its name).

.He is either immune or is at least resistant to sunlight (we've seen him out in daylight twice- once when he went to the Abbey and once when he stood in front of a window with sunlight streaming in).

.He's read the Bible, but considers it preachy and hypocritical. He once laughed at the thought of it making him "burn up."

.He is disgusted by the practice of devil forging because he feels it's an abomination as well as completely disrespectful and inhumane to the souls of the deceased.

.He has a soft spot for children and goes out of his way to protect the human children in the vicinity of his home from other vampires, robbers, monsters etc.

.Deep down, Olrox knows undeniably that if they had met other different circumstances, if he (Olrox) had never had his previous lover, if the Belmont family were not so adamantly sold on killing vampires, Olrox would've definitely pursued Richter as a love interest (the boy is a pretty, feisty little thing after all).

.He lives in a large manor somewhere in New England, possibly close to Stockbridge, because that's where his lover was from and by living there, he feels like he is keeping some part of him alive.

.The beads Olrox wears in his braid belonged to his lover. They are tokens he kept to remember him.

.His style of flirting includes teasing and provoking the object of his affections with touches or jibes. He loves to see them get riled up and display great fire and passion. That's what he loves the most about his potential lovers- a fiery spirit.

.If he takes a fancy to you, good luck trying to shake him; baby boy will stick to you like a shadow.

[camillathe6th]

In the Live of Night — Chapter II: The Poison Tree

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Larian Studios, especially since I'm stealing Astarion's POV this time. What to expect: Rancid behaviour from all sides, a little bit of blood spilled here and there, and a visit to the grove that turns... well. I already said blood was being spilled, you get it. About the fic: this story follows my Tav Hero, who's a bitchy bard; the first chapter is here if you need it.

Three sorts of serpents do resemble thee: That dangerous eye-killing cockatrice, The enchanting siren, which doth so entice, The weeping crocodile—these vile pernicious three. The basilisk his nature takes from thee, Who for my life in secret wait dost lie, And to my heart sendst poison from thine eye: Thus do I feel the pain, the cause, yet cannot see.

(ASTARION)

You are free. Tonight and every night you are free. As long as you do not sleep or remember or think or tremble you are free. As long as you are fed you are free. Shut your ears, open your eyes, sharpen your blade. In all the ways that matter, in the only way that matters, you are free.

Free, you stalk the forest. Free, you lift your face, and breathe the heart-pumping heat of life, blooded rich with wildlife. Free, you hunger, you gnaw, you salivate.

Despite the crash, despite the goblins, despite the fear that make thinking creatures quake and flee, the underbrush around here still teems with vermin—blissfully unaware, ruled only by habit and need, and ripe for the taking.

Ripe. That’s funny. You don’t remember ripe, do you? The sweetness of fruits, of good wine, of bleeding meat or yielding flesh. What you still have is its abstract idea—its bursting, its melting. The colors you can’t quite reach. The mess it leaves behind, delicious enough to lick clean.

Tonight will not be ripe, because it never is. It won’t melt, and won’t delight. But it will struggle and whine, mindless though it is, it will split and fuel, paltry though it is, and is that not enough of a substitute, this bleeding, this excruciating pain, inflicted on what is leaner and emptier than even you are?

Is that not joy? Wild joy? Technically, you don’t remember joy either. But close enough.

And closer still the prey, smelling you as you smell it. There. One step to the left, silent foot on the forest floor. Here, just here—it hides, it lies. It’s wounded. It leaks already—the scent of life, the reek of dread. Shaking with it. Throbbing with it. You are—throbbing, you, you are—a rhythmical beat of need, gushing wet, pulsing viscous, drip-drip-dripping thirst in your heartless flesh. You are—FAST, despite the starvation, FAST enough to catch it as it leaps, and GRIP.

Grip it. Grip it. Grip it. It’s yours. It’s yours to control. It’s yours to kill.

Look at it. Just one second, before the bite, look at it.

(Continued here)

[tamarieatsbatteries175]

The map for Flashfloods area ::D

The Beyond will be explained once i begin focusing on Desert Travels ::]

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Surrender - Rose Tico x General Hux (GingerRose)

Authors Note: Good lord….these two make my heart explode.

Warning: Kind of spicy! Nothing huge though.

——————————————————————————————

Air. Air was all Rose could feel and hear. Empty and warm air that surrounded her in this stupid cell. Only an hour ago were her and Finn on their knees infront of the pathetic First Order General. Only an hour ago did the bastard place his disgusting gloved hand under her chin- tilting her to look up at him. She’d debated biting it off- but thought against the better part of herself. It would do no good. No matter how much she wished to see the filth of his smirk wiped from his face.

Now- she was here. Dim lights of the cell flickering to life. She’d been alone. She was sure this wasn’t the end- someone would have to come to the rescue. They couldnt have just been…abandoned? Could they? Gods…she thought it had been only an hour. Her mind flashed with images of Finn. What could they be doing to him?

She was sat down- curled up against her knees as her hands were bound together. She could feel her heart beat- a mixture of fear and determination. She could feel her heart beating to the empty rythm of the air. It was horrid. It was all horrid.

She closed her eyes as she heard the clank of steps outside- heavy boots. They were frustratingly…gracefully getting closer.

As the cell door creaked open, Rose glanced up from her knees, meeting the General’s cold and calculating gaze. His uniform pristine, his demeanor stern, he exuded authority as he approached her with measured steps. The tension in the room was palpable, the unspoken animosity simmering between them like a coiled serpent.

"You're quite the thorn in my side, scum." Hux stated, his voice steady, yet laced with an underlying intensity. "Your resistance and tenacity are both impressive and vexing."

What the hell was he doing here? Rose didn't flinch, her gaze unwavering, a subtle defiance evident in her eyes. "I'll never stop fighting for what I believe in," she replied, her voice matching his own steadiness, refusing to let him see her vulnerability. Though it came out as more of a weak snarl.

Hux's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes narrowing as if relishing the challenge. "What did I say about rebel vermin?” A scowl nearly surfaced. “What you “believe” in is far below the First Order. The Republic is no more.” He spat the word “Republic”, looking at her with accomplishment. His eyebrows raised slightly, tantalizing half smile playing on his face.

Rose didn’t believe it. She knew. The Resistance would never give up, not now. Not ever. Someone would come find her and Finn- and when they did- they would keep fighting. As they had always done.

She didn’t grace him with a response- simply looking up at him in hatred. Her nostrils flared- eyes looking up at him from beneath her brows. Somehow- her lack of a response seemed to irk him. His smile slipped into the familiar scowl- raising his hand. Expecting a blow to the face like Finn got- she closed her eyes- ready to accept- but it never came.

When she opened her eyes- she found the General simply holding his hand up- lip curled. It was as though he had stopped himself- and in his own halt- confused himself as well. His brows furrowed onto her.

There was a moment of charged silence as their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills taking place between them. Rose felt the tension building like an electrical storm, unsure whether to brace herself for the strike or to succumb to the pull of…strange attraction she sensed emanating from Hux.

The General shook his head- as though to shake off his own failure to punish her.

Finally, Rose took her turn to speak- voice leveled. She remembered the feeling of his glove- tracing her cheek and down to her chin- forcing her head to look up at him. The touch…strangely gentle.

“What is it your doing here? If you’re not going to torture me?” Her voice shook- but still dripped with resistance- determination in her throat as she nodded to his hand- still raised.

He scoffed, presumably offended. As though the question was obvious. Hux took a step closer, his breath mingling with hers, their proximity igniting an undeniable spark. He had leaned down to her level on the floor.

Rose thought- this would be the perfect time. To kick or hit or scream or bite. Though…alike Hux’s own failure to hit her- she stood completely still. She attempted to convince herself it was of the fear. The consequences she would face for hitting the man. Thats why she didn’t do it….certainly not the way his eyes trained on her…or the feeling of his touch…or the way his lips curved in the flickering light of the cell.

“You bewilder me, scum,” His voice was suddenly akin to a whisper as neither took their eyes away from the other. It was like a confession- aggression still evident in his words. “…I can't tell if I want to argue with you… or do something else entirely."

Rose swallowed, mouth dry. His hand raised again- though Rose paid it no mind. She stared into his eyes- determined to not show any weakness. It slowly raised as it did when she was first on her knees for him…gloved finger coming down to her chin- then making his way down her jaw, before turning into a fist. He roughly wrapped his hand around into her hair, forcibly pulling her neck back in a sharp motion.

Rose let out a grunt at the action, causing her to finally stand up to his level as he pulled upwards. Her mouth dropped, not taking her eyes off him once. Heavy breaths sounded between the both of them- Hux’s own strangley shakey despite his power. It made her question what the hell was happening. Though it hit her- neither of them really knew.

“Your defiance fuels my desire to break you, yet I find myself….inexplicably…captivated.” His whispers sounded. He sure does talk…a lot. Rose thought to herself, gaze moving from his eyes to his lips. She hurriedly looked away- fighting her thoughts of his lips.

Another tug to her hair forced her to look at him. “Look at me,” he growled- eyes trained on her- emperial accent shaking at his own words. ”Nothing else.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, torn between her instincts to resist and the inexplicable allure he held over her. "I won't let you break me," she asserted, though her resolve seemed to waver as his intensity bore into her soul.

“I assure you…” A slight smile played on his lips- one that he was unsure of himself. He was letting himself go. His control was slipping- but in the moment he didn’t care. Nothing mattered. He dipped his head into her own neck, hand fisted into her hair pulling back. He was now fully pressed up against her- her own body against a cell wall. “…It would be quite…pleasurable for the both of us.”

His breath grazed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. He murmured the words against her neck, his admission catching them both off guard.

She felt her thighs clench together in reflex. She hated this.

Rose's heart raced, and she mustered the strength to meet his gaze with defiance. "I won't give you the satisfaction," she whispered, her voice filled with determination. "I won't let you see me weak."

A mix of frustration and intrigue flickered across Hux's features as he pulled away from her neck to observe her. The air between them crackled with a charged energy, a dangerous dance of power and attraction that neither of them could deny.

His grip on her hair loosened slightly, and his thumb brushed against her cheek, his touch strangely tender yet tinged with restraint.

"Your soul...” His voice grew more intense. He held on to her tighter, his affection evident in every caress.

“Your body…” Hux pulled at her hair and leaned close to her lips until he was practically speaking against them.

“Your thoughts…” He struggled to get the words out as he felt the sensation of her own body press against him.

“They already give me satisfaction,” He spat- harsh contrast to the reality of the words. “You are already weak. I can see you right now. A weak…pathetic little thing.”

Rose's breath hitched, her heart conflicted by the emotions coursing through her. She had come to see General Hux as nothing more than an enemy, a cruel and heartless leader of the First Order. But now, faced with this complexing…allure…she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of anger and attraction.

"Is this some kind of game to you?" she asked, her voice trembling, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. "Toying with me like this?"

Hux's gaze bore into hers, and for a moment, the arrogance in his eyes faded, replaced by a raw honesty that surprised them both. "No," he said, his voice barely above a whisper- cracking in self-frustration and admission. "It's not a game…I don't know what it is, but it's something I can't explain."

The vulnerability in his confession resonated with Rose, and she found herself inching closer to him, drawn to the enigma before her. Despite everything, she couldn't deny the pull she felt, the strange connection that had formed between them from then to now.

Their faces were mere inches apart, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Rose could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, and her heart pounded in her chest, torn between the desire to fight and the desire to surrender to his wants for her.

Hux closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, calming himself enough for his voice to return to normal. He opened his eyes and looked back into hers. His gaze was filled with the same confusion and conflict as when he spoke before. He knew what he was feeling, but he couldn't admit it, not here.

“Please.” He muttered- word gutteral in his throat. As if it was foreign to him to have to beg for anything. He was used to just getting what he wanted.

Rose felt a strange mixture of emotions swirling inside her as she looked into Hux's conflicted gaze. The General, known for his cold and ruthless demeanor, now appeared vulnerable, almost like a lost little boy searching for something he couldn't quite name.

His plea hung heavy in the air, and Rose could feel the weight of his desire- though not quite fully understanding just what he was asking. It was a dangerous proposition, and part of her wanted to resist, to hold onto her defiance and not give him the satisfaction he sought.

But another part of her, a part that she had never acknowledged before, was drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, two souls entangled in a fate they couldn't escape.

As his lips hovered near hers, Rose felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her. She knew she should push him away, to remind herself of the pain and suffering he had caused. The people he’d killed. Tortured without a second glance. Yet, in this moment, none of it mattered. The lines between captor and captive blurred, and all she could focus on was the magnetic pull between them.

"Please what?" she mumured, her voice barely above a whisper, feeling her resolve melt away. The vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in her own, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the galaxy.

"Surrender," Hux stated, his voice firmer now, as if trying to regain his composure. His voice was a bit louder- as if he was commanding her as he did with the troops. He had practice, Rose reminded herself. Practice in forcing people to do what he wanted. Practice in pain. “Surrender to me. Not to the First Order. To me. No one else.”

His words made her let go of a shakey breath, and Rose found herself finally unable to retort. It was a dangerous proposition, and part of her wanted to run, to deny the questionable aura between them.

But another part of her, a part that she had kept hidden deep inside her heart, yearned to give in, to let herself be consumed by the passion and desire that Hux had suddenly awakened in her.

In that moment, Rose made a choice that would change the course of their lives forever. And with that same mix of fear and determination she had in the begginning, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was electric, a collision of conflicting emotions and unspoken desires. It was as if the cell walls around them had crumbled, leaving them exposed and vulnerable to each other.

Hux responded with equal fervor, if not more. His free hand roughly grabbed her neck, shoving her even farther into the wall that trapped her. His touch was both offensive and passionate- and in that moment, they both surrendered, unbeknownst.

As they kissed, time seemed to stand still, and the weight of the war and their responsibilities falling away. In this small, secluded moment, they were just two individuals bound by fate, trying to find solace and understanding in each other.

When they finally pulled away, both were left breathless and bewildered by the intensity of the moment. Their gazes locked once more, and in that shared look, they saw the vulnerability and strength in each other. Hux looked…horrified- but hadn’t let go of her throat in his hands. Rose looked similarly.

Neither knew where this uncharted path would lead them, but they both knew that they were forever changed. The lines between love and hate had blurred, and they were left with a whirlwind of emotions that neither of them could fully comprehend.

In the dimly lit cell, they’d both stood as equals, despite the chains that held Rose in place.

And in that moment, they realized that sometimes, surrendering to the other….may not be all that bad.

——————————————————————————————

[poetsparty]

I got a chance to write a story or myth from a different perspective. I humbly present...

Sin’s First Meal

Despite how crowded The Garden is, there was always enough fruit for all of us. We were fine eating off of almost any tree or bush there. Most of us, anyways.

Adam, I don’t know where that name came from, but Adam was the one in charge around here. He found me one day and held out his hand. I climbed on, and he held me up to his level, looked me over, and finally said: “mouse”. Just like that me and anyone who was the same as me had a name: Mouse.

This is how it was for a while. Since they were made, Adam and Eve would wander around The Garden and point at anything that could say anything about it and gave them a title. It was simple, and to be honest, I liked the sound of Mouse more and more through the past couple of days.. We were proud to tell each other our names after Adam gave it to us.

The Serpent started following those two around even more recently. Adam didn’t pay much attention to him because he already had a title, and Serpent didn’t seem to care either, he walked closer to Eve’s side anyways. I guess she thought Serpent was cute, or held a good conversation, because they were side by side a lot. Of course, now we all know why, but at the time it was harmless. As much as I, and the others, watched Serpent during those days, I feel like a fool for not seeing him looking back at me.

The whole garden is mad at Eve. I don’t think I can be. She was always a little ditsy, and I guess that’s why Serpent got so close with her rather than Adam. I blame him more than her. Adam should’ve said something, all he could’ve said was “don’t talk to Serpent, we have other creatures to name” and that would’ve been it. She was good like that, she listened to him. I don’t blame Eve, the poor girl only did what she was told was right.

I’ve heard whispers that they don’t think it was Serpent that convinced them at all, I would like to believe that, but what happened after the fruit, of the one tree that wasn’t allowed, was eaten disproves that infinite times over to me. Adam and Eve hid in shame, but Serpent hid too. Just for a different reason.

A lot of fellow creatures heard the commotion today. We all felt things change. I went to see, to find Adam and Eve. I found Eve, she had drops of water streaming from her eyes, it looked like she couldn’t breathe. Cat once told me that Eve likes softer creatures, so I tried to help, my fur’s soft. I figured she’d be able to smile, feeling some soft fur again.

Adam found me. He scorned me, I have a new name now. “Vermin”. Of course I couldn’t bear to stay there, they were talking so fast and so loud. It was back at the tree Serpent found me and attacked. I didn’t think it was even possible for us to turn on each other like this. All it took was one bite. It hurts. Yes, now you’ve all showed up. You’re looking for Serpent, while God takes care of Adam and Eve. I know. Whoever directed you to me had the right idea, he left after he bit me. He’ll be nearby, I’m sure. He’s going to find me again. I don’t know why he attacked me, but the job won’t go unfinished.

But, I do know, if I think about it. Serpent took from the tree first, didn’t he. He knew there were some here weaker than him. Me, even Eve in a way. He was hungry to show the power that he only thought he had. And now Adam will feel that same hunger, won’t he? That’s why God had to step in. Adam’s always been in charge here, though.

I don’t want to die. You’ve spoken about your home, a place above the Garden, bliss and worship forever. Is there a place for me there? Would you pick me up in your hand like Adam did to take me with you? Or will Vermin be left for Serpent. You blamed one of your own kind to take Serpent’s form and deceive. But no Angel would hunt like this. No matter how long ago he was one of you.

No, don’t say that. There could’ve been another way, why did it have to be Serpent? Why did he see prey in me?

Serpent? I think he’s back in the tree.

You’ll come back for me, right?