#and its mainly her and the other gals

[austajunk]

I'm sick so I doodled the sunshine gal of MHA.

[slimeysodaa]

stay with me on this, STAY WITH ME

i remembered I made a swap au of FOP back in 2019 and wanted to revamp it mainly because I still think the idea is cute, its silly so heres that. Basically; Vicky is Timmy, Crocker is Cosmo and Norm is Wanda, although they are still their own characters.

Crocker and Norm flip flop betweening being able to tolerate the other to actively trying to fight each other. They give off the vibes of bitter exes around the other, but with Vicky, they're very attentive and care about her more and more as the series goes on.

Vicky is ten years old, a very firey gal with some anger issues, but she does work on those as the show would go on. She doesn't want to be lonely, she wants to make friends but its very hard for her to do because she gets scared that she'll frighten them away.

but yeah heres that, look at them all. i have a whole story for cosmo and wanda in this au as well but thats for later. i especially love how i draw crocker, he's just a silly old guy, love that for him

[2010sbunny]

♡ 2010sbunny’s Guide

To Mcbling

Brands♡

PT. 1/?

All the mcbling babes are known for their hot and fabulous fashion style. From flare yoga pants to a hot pink tracksuit, mcbling fashion is a big staple in fashion history. Of course you don’t have to have name brand clothes to be a mcbling babe, but if you have the money and want some name brand clothing, by all means buy it! Don’t forget you may also run across some of these brands while you thrift!

Juicy Couture-

Founded in 1997, Juicy Couture is a staple fashion brand in the mcbling scene. Tracksuits in all different colors, daydreamer bags, and several different slogan tees are what Juicy Couture is mostly known for. Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton were two icons who were known for their love for Juicy Couture 💋! Juicy has its own website but please keep in mind that their clothing style and bags have had a major change (they were modernized 🥲). You can also find their modern bags and clothing in stores like Ross and Burlington! If you want to find vintage Juicy, I recommend you look on online secondhand shops like Depop, eBay, Vinted, etc!! It’s kind of hard to stumble across Juicy in in-person thrift stores but it’s possible!! (I still hope to stumble across it someday 🙏)

PINK-

PINK by Victorias Secret is Victorias Secret’s clothing line. It’s mainly known for its beautiful fold over yoga pants. The designs on the yoga pants range from animal print to rhinestone galore 💋. They brought some fold over yoga pants back, but nothing beats the original designs. You can find the originals on online secondhand shops or in-person thrift stores. I personally have gotten mine from Plato’s Closet, but keep in mind that Plato’s Closet is lowkey expensive for it being a thrift store 😭! PINK also had very cute short sleeve and long sleeve shirts that many mcbling babes cut to make off the shoulder tops! If you’re a hoodie typa gal, I recommend you buy their hoodies as well because they definitely were and continue to be the bomb.com 💋. PINK’s sweatpants were also very cute and comfortable! If you would like to buy yoga pants from the designs Victorias Secret brought back, you can find them in store or on their website. Here’s the link dolls 💋🩷:

Baby Phat-

Baby Phat was made by Kimora Lee Simmons (a true fashion icon). Kimora’s fashion shows were very iconic, and will always be remembered. Her fashion line gives more of a 90s-2000s vibe, but her jeans can spice up your mcbling look 💋. Her bottoms are super cute, and always have the iconic cat logo. Her puffer jackets are also a staple piece, and you can especially wear them in the winter for an ice princess look! You can find her pieces on online secondhand shops and you may find them in the thrift if you look hard enough!! (I’m talking even in the cracks of the Jeans section). Her bags are very cute as well, but if you’re going more for a mcbling-style bag, I recommend juicy couture or any other mcbling bags. The Baby Phat online store is currently still a work in progress, but you may still receive emails and a reminder when it’s done!

Miss Me-

Following the mention of jeans, Miss Me jeans are a brand of jeans that were very popular then and honestly still are now. Their rhinestoned designs on the back pockets are TO DIEEEE FOR. They come in all different cuts, fits, and rises (low rise, mid rise, high rise). You can find many Miss Me jeans at Buckle (either in store or online), but be aware that they are highly expensive (over $100 for ONE pair). You may find a pair in an in-person thrift store but they are pretty hard to find. Don’t let that stop you though, as you may find a pair or more the next time you go thrifting. Many 2010s celebrities wore Miss Me jeans and many mcbling babes wore them as well. If you wanna shop for Miss Me jeans that are less expensive, you can look for them on eBay, Mercari, Depop, etc.! The 2nd pic of the Miss Me’s is by my jwoww @brattygalfriend 💋. If you would like to buy some from Buckle, here’s the link 💋:

Ed Hardy-

Ed Hardy is known mainly for its bags, hats, shirts, and jeans. Kim K rocked Ed Hardy A LOTTTTT during the mcbling era. Ed Hardy is still around and unlike a lot of other brands, has stayed true with their designs 💋. You can find Ed Hardy is places like Burlington, Ross, maybe even Marshalls! Ed Hardy has its own online store where it’s prices aren’t too pricey (honestly depends on your price range). If you would like you can of course buy Ed Hardy pieces from online secondhand shops (I KNOWWWW IVE MENTIONED THIS A LOT), or you can find them in in-person thrift stores. I honestly think the Ed Hardy brand will live on 4eva 💋.

End Notes-

Thank you so much for reading if you did 🩷. This was my first ever long blog so I hope you liked it 🤭. I decided to make this a series obvi because I <3 mcbling fashion and I would love to showcase a ton of different mcbling brands. If anyone has any suggestions on which brands I should feature next please lemme know dolls 🙏. Please make sure to stay hydrated, rested, and full ♡!

PS: Pls give credit if u use!!

Remember this is YOUR world

and we’re all just living in it,

XOXO, 2010sbunny 💋

[temptress-writes]

⚓️ The Endeavour

A/N: Piraterry. Nasty as hell smut. He's after some booty. He gets it and then some.

C.W: coarse language, drinking, violence, beardrrY

Sexual Content Warnings: -virgin mc -breath play. whoops. like big whoops. -blood kink -pain kink -squirting (always only the best for the gals) -beard kink (I just wanna leave it wet) -cock warming kinda (mentioned) -somnophilia (not really but a body is explored while said body is unconscious nothing explicit but wanted to list it anyway)

This smut is feral. So have fun!

Word count: 15.8k. A light meal from mama.

***

The Caribbean Sea.

1723.

The hull groaned under the shattering weight of the fierce waves, her bow slicing through swell after powerful swell.

With the tip of his hat, a burst of pride erupted in his chest at her sheer fight and force. He kept her in top shape, knowing a single slip-up would end with him and her in a sandy, unforgiving grave.

He yelled a bursting abundance of encouragement and order to his crew, who through their own sheer will and determination, held their own against the torrid waves.

They had been on the open ocean for weeks. Skewering the waves for ripples in its currents, showing the way to riches. Nothing but a captain's sheer dream to follow a path many believed to be purely fiction, rumour, and nightmare.

There were tales of an untouched island, long since forgotten by many. Except for him. The hidden place had been a bedtime story for him, his fallen mother lulling him to sleep with talk of a luscious cove, twinkling with gold and jewels, protected by sea creatures so fearsome that no one lived to warn others. Only tales made shores carried by whispering swells.

She had gone so far as to paint it for him one night, his tiny child mind so enthralled by a land he could only place as his own heaven.

Crystal clear water, a wide cove that delved into the land with hidden secrets that if reached, guaranteed the succeeder a lifetimes worth of riches.

He kept the painting. Folded it up tight and stored it in his locket, right next to his heart. It hung from the chain his father had left him, the only reminder he had of his parents before they fell ill when he was barely a teen.

With nothing but the clothes on his back and the memory of his loved ones, he had to build a life for himself. He mainly started out as a ship repairer's assistant. Holding out tools and swiped coins of gold when his boss wasn’t looking. He paid him a piece a week and it had made for some painfully hungry nights. So he’d turned to sly swiping where he could, purely to survive.

Every night, he dreamt of that cove. Of its glistening, gentle waves. Of the sea creatures that guarded the hidden heaven. Ones that he would slay with all his might, so that he may bask in the treasures they fought to covert.

An oasis he now attempted to charter.

“What do you think?” He asked his Quartermaster as he headed below deck to his quarters, his mate beside him. They entered the office, heading to the map laid out on the table, weight down by compasses and clutter.

“I think you’re on a fool’s errand, captain.” As he’d been saying for weeks.

“There will be many riches at the end of this voyage, Brigg. I promise you. It will be well worth it.”

“Say we get there, Harry,” Brigg reasoned, his hands on his hips, “what of the beasts they say that roam the waters?”

Sharks with rows and rows of vicious teeth, fearless krakens that ate ships like his for sport. Sirens lured sailors to the depths where they would toy with them before eating them limb by limb. And then there was the landscape to attest for. Jagged rocks and shallow waters that dismembered hulls like a bird's wing through the wind.

Harry himself had no clue how they’d navigate such a tight cove with as many dangers as the lore spoke of. But he was a determined man, and it had yet to steer him and his crew wrong.

He adjusted his weapon belt across his hips, his sword sitting strong in its scabbard. He’d yet to unsheathe it on this journey but had no doubt he’d have to ensure its sharpness for what was ahead.

“We’ll continue to train, Brigg. We have strong soldiers on board with us. We shall find nothing but glory.”

“If we even find the cove.”

Harry shot him an unamused look, “Adjust us to the west. The waves are mighty today, we cannot afford to be off course.”

“Yes, captain.”

Brigg left him, and he allowed a moment to feel exhausted. He threw his hat on the desk, grabbed a bottle of rum, and took a much-needed swig, not caring that it spilled past his lips and down the front of his shirt.

He stripped his frock coat from his body and sagged into his chair, staring at the map, a tiny circle in red showing where they were headed. He adjusted the wooden ship pawn an inch closer to its target.

It wasn’t even on maps long since drawn by cartographers at every corner of the earth. He’d seen it all, seen too much to be riddled by what-ifs and myths. He’d seen wonderous things on his travels, and his hope would not be dwindled by another man’s doubts.

But old stories spoke of a small island, far too small for anyone to see. Tucked away in the Caribbean Sea, warded off by treacherous swells and ravenous creatures. All guarded treasures far too priceless for any man to get their hands on.

For weeks they’d charted choppy waters, their food supply strong, freshwater abundant no thanks to the severe rains.

He felt strongly about this endeavour. Among the hundreds of treasure hunts he’d been on, this was one he felt most strongly about.

He had told no one about this trip aside from his crew. He had become a well-known pirate in England. Notorious and feared. He garnered such a reputation by playing dirty, and he gained many enemies while doing so. The last thing he needed was a rival on his tail.

His life was on the high seas, his lover his compass.

While he wasn’t opposed to bedding some maiden at whatever tavern he stumbled into once they’d ported, they were fleeting moments. He was always on his ship. The Siren. For she always called to him, longing for the dangerous adventure of the ocean.

He nestled into his bunk, knowing that not much would happen overnight. They’d port at Barbados come sunrise, halting their journey only for supplies and to stretch their legs.

He dreamt of the cove, as he always did. But this time was different. It was clearer, a soft ringing in his ears as he was drawn closer to the shore.

The dock at Barbados was rumbling with life. Much more than he’d ever seen it. It was rich with trade, with merchants from every corner of the earth gathering to sell their goods at high prices.

Harry scored some fresh fruits he could not get back in England, chewing happily as he and Brigg wandered the streets. He eyed many of the local women, winking and asking their names, wondering if they had room for him in their beds tonight.

They’d giggle, sensing his reputation as rocky as the shores before them. He had no trouble finding someone to have fun with but loved to scope out his options.

Pineapple juice dripped down his chin, the Caribbean sun blistering and unwavering. Heating him with a fire that drove his need for adventure and discovery. The sun, he thought, was another treasure. The land he came from rarely was blessed with its presence.

They passed more vendors, selling weapons and gear and ammo, maps, and repairs for ships. It had been years since he’d seen this island, it was good to see it doing so well.

An older man stood by his store. A small, quant swordsmith with an abundance of glittering weapons. Harry veered closer, intrigued. Something about his weathered expression drove his curiosity wild. He only saw such an expression in wary seamen.

“Good day, traveller.” The swordsmith’s heavy accent sounded as he sharpened a blade on a block.

“Sir,” Harry nodded. “Are you well?”

The man smiled wryly. “I will be should you give me some coin.”

“You seem well-travelled. Tell me what you know of this island.” Harry produced his map, pointing to the circle drawn in the middle of dangerous waters.

The swordsmith sagged, rubbing his aged forehead. “You will not survive it, boy.”

“So you have been there.” It was real. The sense of relief he felt at that moment was unlike any other sensation. He had been drawn to these tides by a tale. This was the first sense of reality he’d felt.

The man looked away, picking up his tools as if wanting to move on from the conversation. Harry smiled, throwing down a couple of gold coins on the workbench. The man scooped them up, counting, deliberating.

“In all my years, I have never chartered such a sea. Whatever is out there, tis real.”

“What is out there?” He threw down more coins.

“Danger. Fearsome creatures, both terrifying and beautiful. Shows you whatever you desire most and dangles it in front of you until they have you in your grasp.”

“What about the island?”

The man laughed. “Fool. I did not reach the island. I turned up on the shores here with no memory, no ship, no crew. Everything gone. Tis a curse, boy. Nothing more. Beware.”

It did little to sway his curiosity. His draw to this island was nothing to afraid of. Not a curse or a fool’s errand. It was his calling.

“Thank you, sir. Your candour is appreciated.” It would also be ignored, but he chose to withhold that fact. He slid the man more gold, purchasing a small dagger fashioned with pearls in its hilt. They glowed in the sun, and he added it to his scabbard with pride.

His hat shielded him from the torturous sun as he found his way back to The Siren, missing her familiarity. How she was every part of him, just as his bones were. His crew was washing up, sweeping the decks, and righting the gunports.

The main mast groaned as a gust blew through it, the small swells of water lapping at the hull, hungry for more. He checked in with his crew, ensuring everybody was rested and ready for the journey ahead.

“We set sail at midday. Not a minute later.” He eyed them all, pacing ahead of them as they stood in line listening to orders. “We should reach the island by nightfall. The sea ahead is dangerous, but I trust you all to get us there. Whatever we find will be ours to share.”

“Aye, Captain!”

“What if there is no gold?” One of the deckhands questioned. He was one of Harry’s newer men and had less experience on the seas than any of them. Hell. He still got nauseous when sailing, and still got on Harry’s nerves.

“When have I steered us wrong?” Harry glanced at him. “We have followed maps into the most far reaches of the sea, and have been rewarded each time for our bravery. This shall be no different.”

“Aye, Captain.” The deckhand muttered, adjusting his hat on his head.

“Prepare for sail.” Harry shouted, sauntering into his quarters to watch over the map. Brigg ensured everyone was doing their jobs, barking out orders to keep everyone in check.

Harry stared at the map for a time, feeling outside of his own mind. The wind seemed to howl, melting into a high-pitched tone that had him wincing before he blinked, back in his own boots once more.

“Keep her steady!” He yelled from the deck, his feet anchored to the barrier, his hands burning from their grip on the ropes. Sea water lashed at him, threatening to take him down to its luring depths.

The currents were strong here, his crew struggling to keep them on course. The sails whipped in the vicious winds, snapping and threatening to tether.

He had never seen anything like it. Otherworldly anger unleashed within the waves and wind, pummelling his ship with no mercy. His crew was struggling, he could sense it. See that they were unable to ride the movements of the ship, being thrown around every which way.

“Get the sail down!” He yelled out, helping at the masts. They had to coast while the wind was at its strongest. Ride it out until they could figure out their course. As it stood, he hadn’t a clue where they were.

The ocean had never been so angry. Perhaps that old swordsmith had been right. This was a curse. A festering evil. His mind flashed to creatures that could be lurking beneath his ship. A fearsome Kraken waiting to take them down and feast on their flesh while the wood and steel of The Siren rotted at the bottom of the depths.

This was a fight he could not win.

A strong wave swept over the ship, filling the deck with water, and sweeping every man off their feet. He clung onto the rope for dear life, chilled to his bones as the wind whipped at his body.

“We have to go back, Captain!” Brigg yelled over the thunder, a flash of lightning soon following it to ignite his scorned expression.

“We cannot yield!” He fought. They’d worked too hard to turn back now. Turning the ship may seal their fate.

“Cap—”

A swell whirled over the boat, this one higher than any of the ones before, sweeping Harry from his perch overseeing the deck, ready to swallow him into the currents. He clung onto the rope, his grip slipping as his calloused hand failed to comply, frozen and aching.

His hold on the rope slipped, and his stomach dropped as he began falling to the angry depths metres below him. He was being smashed against the hull, knocked back and forth like a rag doll. Held victim to the harsh elements. He yelled out, not ready to abandon his crew. His ship.

He was going to drown.

Flashes in the sky accompanied an eerie ringing, high in pitch and deafening.

And then a hand shot out, taking his as his final grip loosened. He was hauled overboard again, flopping into the saturated deck before he was out cold.

His ears were ringing. A build-up of fatigue and trauma, seared his brain as he blinked in surprise at the scene around him. He could hear Brigg calling his name, and see his crew helping each other up and tending to the wounded. After a quick head count, he knew he’d lost men.

He gathered himself, feeling the oak beneath his back was still wet. But the overpowering anger of the ocean was no more, and he listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

His body thrummed in pain but he ignored it. He would take care of himself later. There was no time to waste when the elements weren’t lashing at them.

His chest burned at the realisation, and he stood with a groan, finding Brigg rushing to his side. It was not uncommon in this life, and it was something he dealt with every time they left the shallow shores.

“How many?” He rasped. “How many did we lose?”

“Five.”

He grimaced, still out of it, his body bruised and weathered.

“You were out for no longer than ten minutes, Captain. The storm has subsided, and quickly so. Never seen anything like it in all my years at sea.”

“The calm will not last, however, we must take advantage of it.” He strolled into the cabin, finding the map, grateful that the ocean had not destroyed it. “How far off course are we?”

“I can’t work it out. The storm derailed us completely.”

“Tis a good thing we overshot after we set sail. Recourse us west.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

“I am. We’re close, I can feel it.”

Harry made the rounds, checking on his crew, and offering condolences even while his own heart felt too heavy for his body to carry. Everyone was exhausted. Tired. But he promised them that the reward was near.

He stood at the helm, the wheel gripped firmly in his ringed hands. The water was black, even the dim candle lighting doing nothing to illuminate it. But there was a tether inside of him, guiding him towards that cove from his dreams. He would slaughter every creature that stood in his way. Fight every rogue wave that threatened to drown him.

The Siren groaned, and he frowned, leaning forward to scope out the environment around them.

The world was dark. An onyx abyss that had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. His gaze scoured his surroundings, seeing nothing but pitch black. Everything went still, eerily still.

Harry loosed a breath, leaving his post at the helm and going to the side. Amongst the nothingness, there was a large mass, not two miles ahead of them. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, or how he was seeing it.

But all he knew was that it was an uninhabited piece of land, surrounded by a thick disturbance, something he could not place. Could not see or smell. But he could feel it.

“Lower the anchor.” He spoke into the air, his crew not hearing him. “Lower the anchor!”

They complied quickly, working together to drop the anchor. The Siren came to a slow stop, and Brigg approached him with a raised brow.

“What is it?”

“There,” he breathed, “do you see it?”

Brigg allowed his gaze to follow Harry’s extended arm, the pointed hand. He looked beyond it, squinting.

“See what, lad?”

“The island.”

“There is no island, Captain. Just water as far as the eye can see.”

Harry shot him a look. “Tis your old eyesight failing you, Brigg. Prepare a boat.”

“It is not safe—”

“Prepare a boat.” He bit out. “This is where we need to be.”

Brigg appeared skeptical, but it was not his place to question his Captain. It was nobody’s place. A few men prepared the pinnace, lowering it down onto the gentle waves. Harry prepared himself with a heavier coat, his favourite sword, and his compass.

His whole life had been a build-up to this moment. From the bedtime stories from his dear mother to finding his feet as his own explorer. It had all been for this. For this off-the-map cove that he wasn’t even sure was real.

“I will scout first, and be back by daylight.”

“Please… be careful.”

“I shall return with good news, Brigg. I can feel it in my bones.”

Using the ladder draped down the hull, Harry lowered down into the boat, Brigg leaning down to pass him a lit lantern. He shot down the offer to have a few of his deckhands with him. This part he had to do alone.

The tiny boat bobbed on the waves, and he glanced out at the mass of land again, sensing that pulsing once more. His ears rang with the promise of fulfillment. He began rowing.

He rowed until he was halfway between The Siren and the island, and his heart began drumming uneasily against his ribcage. He could taste the sheer gratification and accomplishment.

He kept watch for the lurking creatures he had been warned about time and time again. For the dreaded sharks and Krakens, the predators swarming below them, waiting. But they didn’t show.

The ringing appeared in his ears again, shrill and stark. He winced, shooting a hand up to cradle his head.

The peal became higher. Louder. So intense that he feared for the integrity of his hearing. He stood and looked around frantically, hoping to see some source that would explain such a protruding sound.

And then it softened completely, a quiet humming next to the boat that halted his search. He crouched, leaning over the side staring at his reflection on the glass-like veneer.

A disruptive ripple broke the surface of the water, illuminated by the radiant lantern.

A girl.

She was otherworldly beautiful. And she was humming, a lulling melody that had his spine melting into goo. She smiled up at him, looking through her lashes as she bit her lip. Her eyes were so dark as if mimicking the lapping waves, though glowing once he raised the lantern further towards her.

He opened his mouth to ask why she was there. How she was so far out from the shore and in such gloomy water. But his words bubbled in his throat, dissolving before they could reach his lips. As if she’d taken them.

She was just… watching him. Her dark hair slicked back away from her face, glistening with beauty. Her chocolate skin imitated the tone of his rum and his brain went foggy as she rose a few inches, and it was then that he saw that she was naked.

“Who are you?” He managed out, his voice not his own.

She only smiled at him again, humming that addictive tune before her hand shot up, her slender fingers gripping the side of the boat, right next to his jewelled hand.

He was so mesmerised he didn’t have it in him to be scared.

“Are you lost, sailor?” Her voice was silky. Liquid pearls trapped in clouds.

He felt his body fall lax as she stared at him, her lips plump as the words left them.

Lost. A sensation he had felt many times before. And of course, he felt it these past few weeks in the search for this island. Now as he looked away from the girl and towards the island, had disappeared.

He grew startled, his mind kicking back into gear. The island. The hope he felt. The magic cove from his dreams, the one he kept in his locket next to his heart. Gone. A hazy mirage that dissipated when he hadn’t been looking.

His mouth grew dry, “I could have sworn—”

“Shh.” Her cold, wet hand clasped his where it rested on the rim of the boat. “I can help you.”

He was locked in her trance again, paralysed by her. His worry was still stagnant in his brain but his body would not cooperate, still and at her will.

“I do not—”

“Come closer.” Her soft cadence took his breath away.

He found his body betraying him, leaning forward until the boat was almost tipping over. She smiled, her teeth gleaming. Her smile snapped something in him, a longing that was all too familiar to him. The yearning that centred around the painting in his locket. The draw to it was the same as it was to her.

She began humming, louder, completely entrancing him. His brain felt numb, every thought dispersing aside from her. Like his essence was honing in on hers. He was under her spell. His sole purpose for being here suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

And that sense of loss and aimlessness was the last thing he remembered before he was submerged completely.

The sensation of it was too many things at once. A festering fear that soothing hands calmed as he sank down into the murky depths. His passion and drive and reasoning for being on the open seas reduced to nothing. Reduced to droplets blinked from stormy brown eyes.

There had been things for him to fear here. He’d heard the myths. But nothing frightened him more than the beauty of her.

He was sure that he was dreaming, but his lungs were burning, filling with salty water as he tried to scream. But there was no one to save him. Just the sounds of his own muted cries and that all too-familiar melody. It became his new actuality.

Sinking to a euphony that made him feel eerily at peace.

A phantom hand explored the expanse of his chest, feather-light and timid. It touched his arms, his face, trailing his features. Exploring and mapping.

His senses came back to him slowly, and he heard the ocean. Soft swells kissed the shore, and his hand curled into the sand beneath him. He felt that hand venture south and he coughed, his lungs burned as water bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth.

He heard a voice, a small soothing ooh that could only be placed as sympathy. He opened his eyes, wincing as he took in the bright scene before him.

The sun was blinding, offensively so, and he shut his eyes for a moment more so that he could adjust. His head throbbed, the source of a sharp pain in his left temple.

Upon opening them, he turned his head, facing the coast. The water was a bright cerulean, invitingly pristine. No signs of his ship or his crew. What had happened? His vision was hazy, a blur of visions that he couldn’t determine were real or made up. He scarcely remembered leaving the dock at Barbados. Just little blips in time but some seemed fake.

That ghost touch graced his chest again, brushing his wet lips. His gaze turned towards the feeling and a violent gasp left him as he jolted away from the source.

A girl.

What was familiar to him was her striking beauty. Big brown eyes, deep golden skin with a halo of lush curls surrounding her head. She was dressed in white, scraps of flowy material that were bound together with beads and pearls.

Her brows pulled in, and her hand reached out toward him. “It’s okay. You are safe here with me.”

“W—What happened?” He panted, stilling at the feel of his saturated clothes. His scabbard was gone, as was his hat and coat. Only his pants, shirt, and boots remained.

“I found you here.” She said gently.

He tried to stand, disoriented. He fell to the ground, his arms too weak to lift himself up.

“Please, take care—”

“I remember you.” He rasped. “I… I saw you. I—I saw you in the water.”

She reached for him, taking his hand. “You are confused. I believed your ship was wrecked.”

“N—No, I saw you—”

“We must get off the beach.”

“Where am I?”

She didn’t answer him, and her hold on his hand tightened. He suddenly felt willing. Like his body had been given a boost of strength for him to stand. He watched her, allured by her perfection, her attire. Who was she? Why was she so familiar?

His mind flashed to black water before she pulled away, her eyes pulling him in before she backed up toward the island ahead.

It was small, either side of the beach framed with jagged rocks and tall cliffs. The island itself as heavy with thick vegetation. He had no clue where he was geologically. With his memory as spotty as it was, his ship could have wrecked miles off course and left him stranded here.

“Where is my ship?”

There were no remnants of The Siren on the shore. No debris or… any sign of life for that matter. It was a chilling feeling, especially seeing as whoever this girl was wasn’t giving any answers.

She led him towards a large tree just on the edge of the shore, a tall, overhanging tree that offered sanctum from the sunshine.

“What is this island?” He called after her. “Where are all the people?”

“There are no people here.”

He stopped, watching as she sat on a giant leaf and tended to a collection of fish laid out on a rock. They were fresh, and he spied her spear leaning against the tree.

“You are here alone?”

“Sit,” she nodded to a twin leaf next to hers. “And eat. You must be famished.”

He was, but the overall confusion and fear made him nauseous. “No, thank you.”

Her eyes became stormy, just as they had in his mind. He found himself sitting, taking a leaf full of fresh fish from her outstretched hand. He feasted, not realising quite how ravenous he was.

“Can I trouble you for a boat?” He needed to get off this island. Figure out where his ship and crew were.

“There are no boats here.”

Her words made his chest sink, and more questions followed that he opened his mouth to ask, but she interrupted him.

“Where were you headed, sailor?”

Her wording worried him. Where were you heading? Like she saw his being on this island as some kind of seal doom.

“I had just left Barbados.” If she wasn’t going to answer his questions, like hell he was going to answer hers. “I do not remember much following that.”

She adjusted her position, the slit of her skirt allowing his eyes to wander the expanse of her thigh.

“It has been some time since I have seen a man.”

“Is that so?” And that explained the wandering hands he felt as he awoke.

“Many years. You are very different from the ones I have seen.” She brushed her curls from her face, her skin glowing from the sun, crushed pearls glittering her features.

“Do you rescue sailors often?”

“No, never.”

He could not place her accent. Her cadence. Dreamy and soft-spoken. Nothing like the locals of the surrounding islands. No, this he could not put a finger on. She ventured a few metres into the tree line, finding a spring of fresh water which he gulped down.

He had allowed himself to scope out the area whilst she was gone. Aside from the fish and spear, there were no other signs of life on this beach. Was she from deeper inland? Did she come here by boat?

The sunset kissed the horizon, bleeding orange hues into his vision as he tried to gather his bearings.

It was as if she could read his thoughts, sense his panic and his queries.

“You must rest, sailor.” She whispered, that lulling voice swirling through his mind. He fell asleep on the beach, exhausted, perhaps even concussed from the injury on his temple that he did not know how he received.

He woke up hours later, disorientated and lost. He felt for a moment that he was on his ship, tucked away in his cabin next to the fireplace, a goblet of rum nestled comfortably in his hand.

But his new reality set in with the harsh bed of sand against his back and the dim light of the moon offering little comfort. He jolted upright, feeling more himself than he was earlier. Had hours passed? Or days? His body was groggy and his throat was parched.

And then he’d remembered those slender hands feeding him fresh fish, offering him crisp water from the spring in the trees somewhere. The girl. Golden and mysterious.

His eyes strained to see her, but she was not where he had last seen her, and it had his back straight immediately. Had she left him? Had she been a mere dream his jumbled brain had offered up in order to keep him sane?

The throbbing in his head had dulled some, and he reached up to massage the ache only to find it damp with some form of thick paste lobbed into the wound, which felt pretty much healed.

His memory was failing him, letting him down as he raked his thoughts for any sense of clarity but there was none. He wasn’t sure what was real. Couldn’t even remember his name.

He felt his locket around his neck, his sole truth, and fumbled to open it. He withdrew the small painting and even under the moonlight, he knew the strokes by heart. He put it back for safekeeping. His soul soared with a sense of something he couldn’t make out before his eyes flittered to the sea.

It was glittering in the effulgence, seeming to call him as that humming carried itself in the wind. He felt her before he saw her, the soft breeze carrying her presence to him.

She waded in the water, her hands splayed out as she toyed with swells between her fingers. She was just as real as he remembered, and yet, he wondered if she would disperse into the water and become one with it.

He stood, his boots filled with sand, but his clothes were dry now. He watched her, slowly walk towards the edge of the water, his gaze not once leaving her. He walked into the water, keeping his movements light so as not to startle her.

And as he got closer to her, he realised that she was naked. Her hair was wet and draped down her back, her skin a golden ray of moonlight that he wanted to laze in.

She gasped, turning to face him. Her breasts were covered by her wet curls but it didn’t matter to him. He struggled to move his eyes from the view.

“Who are you?” He asked over the rolling waves.

Her eyes were bottomless. “You should be resting.”

“Answer my damn question.”

“You do not need to know who I am, sailor.”

Her eyes became black bottomless pits that had him reeling backward in fear. Every question and ounce of confusion was gone as pure terror took over. She was otherworldly in her beauty, yes. But she had something dark and sinister wading beneath her skin.

He became overwhelmingly lethargic, his body controlled by something alien. And he felt the black hole invade his memory again as she slinked into the water before he saw nothing at all.

Many nights passed. He wasn’t sure how many, and had no sense of self or time. She fished early in the morning and allowed him to eat as much as he wanted before he was resting again. His body seemed too tired and he felt as though he was chasing his own tail trying to feel some sort of energy.

She was always dressed in those soft white linens, or shreds of them, bound together with shells, pearls, and beads.

And every night, he woke, watching her splash and play in the water. Naked and free, unaware of the fact that he was watching her. He didn’t dare approach her again, too fearful that she would control his mind and take it as her own.

She was not of this earth, he realised. Too perfect and too far from his grasp to understand. He enjoyed watching her, though. Enjoyed watching her lay out in the sun and play with her curls.

He bathed in the sea, fully unclothed, and ended up ditching his flimsy shirt once he realised it was only added to the heat his body was enduring. His tattoos were stark against his skin, now golden from his days in the sun.

Sometimes she would leave the beach. She’d venture up the coast, scaling dangerous rock formations. He would always try to follow her but he would lose sight of her, trying to keep up with her agile pace but he was simply not equipped for such a trek.

He always wondered where she went, but by the time she returned, he had grown too tired to ask.

He was caged in, their little beach framed with rock and backed with dense jungle. He tried to venture into the thick vegetation but found himself thrown off by how endless and dangerous it looked.

He was beginning to question if he had any semblance of sanity in the first place. What was true? What was his foggy imagination? He did not know.

The moon was especially large tonight, sat high in the sky, a brilliant silver that glazed over the locket at his chest. His eyes closed, prepared to fall asleep like he did every night.

He often wondered why he felt okay with this. His ship was out there somewhere, maybe even intact. His crew who relied on him… he struggled to even think about it. How had he ended up here? Alone? He had not gone so far from the ship.

His thoughts haunted him, taunting him with hidden memories, slips of water, and storms. But he could only remember that vendor in Barbados and then… waking up on this beach. And her. Her eyes and her beauty. But it was hazy. Like trying to recall a dream.

The moonlight danced behind his eyelids, the waves that kissed the shore somehow calming despite the peril he felt in his chest.

That all too familiar phantom touch laced the bare skin of his chest, and his eyes snapped open. The girl was leaning over him, her eyes burning with curiosity. He sat up abruptly, but she stayed close to him, their faces mere inches apart.

His hand grabbed hers from where it had fallen into her lap. He placed it back on his chest, his eyes on hers as she explored his body, his skin warm beneath her palm. His heart was racing so fast and she smiled as if she could feel it.

Her touch melted south, brushing his lower abdomen. He sucked in a breath and her eyes softened.

“Do you like this?” She asked him, her other hand joining in mapping out his body.

“Yes.” He whispered, wanting to reach out and touch her. But his hands remained put. He knew that the ball was in her court, and she’d reprimand him if he tried to take control.

“Swim with me.”

He was in a trance as she stood, helping him up. She shed her tiny layers of clothing as they walked towards the sea, and his gaze washed over her naked body in a daze. She met his eyes as if knowing he was watching and enjoyed the attention.

After removing all of his own clothing, he tried to ignore the fact that she was staring at all of him. Intently. As if to remember his body later. And then, so quietly, she waded into the water until it was lapping at her waist and stared up at the moon.

He paddled out to meet her, in awe of her confidence as she floated on her back. The moonlight illuminated her body, the water slipping over her physique. He’d never been so envious of a body of water.

He wanted to be the one to lick and explore her coasts. Wrap his currents around her until she was fully in his control. She straightened as he came to her, her hands landing on his shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” He breathed out as she wrapped herself around him.

“Yes,” she crooned, her lips brushing his ear. “You are dreaming, sailor.”

He released a shaky breath when her lips met his, her lips encasing his upper one while his hands found her hips. He released a groan, kissing her with such intensity that it scared him. He had no clue who he was even kissing but it simply felt right.

His body was responding in such a way that made him feel almost embarrassed. She pulled away, her expression confused.

And then his eyes snapped open, a deep breath ripping from his lungs. He wasn’t in the water with her.

But his body was wet as if he had been. His memory was missing a piece between her lips and finding himself back here. A blank space in the puzzle of his mind.

What had happened? Was it a dream? Or did she state that it was so that she could toy with his mind?

The sun was out, igniting the sea in dazzling diamonds that danced on the ripples.

By the crispness in the air and the remnants of fog, he guessed it was early morning. He sat up, searching for her.

She was carrying a woven net full of fresh fish. He frowned. Her spear was at the base of the tree, where it always was. And he realised he hadn’t once seen her use it, and the fish she’d caught never had any wounds to them.

With a sly smile, she nodded her head in greeting, starting to prepare the fish with efficiency and ease. He ate with her, wondering how to bring up their kiss last night. How he’d seemed to startle her with his arousal. He wanted to apologise. He also wanted another taste.

But as always when it came to her, his words were stunted. Lodged in his throat and dying abruptly in a burst bubble. She stood, her hips swaying as she moved before taking a seat beside him.

“When will you tell me who you are?”

“It is the same with all of you men,” she mused, running a hand through his hair. He moaned lightly at the attention, his scalp prickling with delight. “So many questions.”

“Sailors are curious by nature.”

“So I gathered.”

“You, however, are very evasive.”

“You are alone on an island with a pretty girl, what more do you need to know?” Her eyes twinkled at her tease, the sun breaking through the leaves above them and dancing across the planes of her face.

“Very pretty.” He smiled. But I need to know more. A lot more.”

The integrity of his ship and crew plagued him, but she simply smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. His beard was a contrast to his soft features, and her eyes travelled them, taking him in.

“Curiosity is dangerous here.”

“And where, exactly, is here?” He pushed.

But her lips brushed his and his memory faded, his eyes opening only to find the sky dark and the stars abundant in the sky. He blinked, confused. Only a second had passed between then and now and yet… the day was gone. And so was she.

He sat up in a rush, his body feeling alien to him. His eyes scanned the beach, searching for her. And she was there, exiting the water, the sea washing off her shores, down her bare skin, and back to the sand.

But he laid back down, not wanting her to know that he was awake. Whatever she was doing, she was in full control of him and he wanted some semblance of self. To see why she was playing all of these mind tricks on him.

She wandered towards the treeline, a way down from him, and her eyes never found him as he pretended to sleep. Like she was sure he was still sleeping soundly like she always planned.

But he was fully aware of himself now and knew he needed to act. He would find out where he was. If she wasn’t going to give him the answers he sought, then he would find them himself.

He kept his movements quiet, leaving their little respite on the beach and following her. She wasn’t hard to keep track of, following a worn-down path that she knew well. The moonlight lit the way, but he kept to the shadows so as not to raise attention to himself.

She trailed him along for ages. His boots caught on twigs and uneven forest floor but he was determined. And after a while, she slowed, gazing up at the moon before she broke into what looked like a clearing.

He waited for a while, not wanting to get caught before he sauntered forward towards the clearing. Only, it wasn’t was he was expecting. The must have been following the near coast, because he could hear small waves lapping against the rock, and he could smell the intense seawater and feel the pull of it.

It was the cove.

The one from the stories his mother would tell him when he was younger. The one in his locket, right next to his heart.

His chest felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in his body wired with excitement and disbelief.

The cove was every bit beautiful as he’d imagined it. And then some. Bright blue water was ignited by the moonlight. It seemed to hone in on the rock pool that spilled out into the sea. There was no evidence of gold or loot, but the treasure was not that. It was the discovery itself.

Shipwrecks were abundant in the jagged rock formations, the water shallow and glorious. How they hadn’t seen their doom before them, he did not know. Almost like they’d intended to ram right through the island as if it was never there.

The rocks hugged the frame of the cove, the water heaving with wildlife he had never seen before.

And sat upon a rock, was the girl. But he was taken aback, blinking as if he were seeing things through untrue eyes. But she was there, her breasts bare to the ocean while her bottom half was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

A tail.

A milky blue that accentuated the hue of her golden skin, scales so pearlescent it put every diamond to shame. It fanned out at the bottom, much like fish, indented rays that bled into a deeper blue, melting into the tone of the sea.

He began breathing erratically. This was another one of her mind tricks. Or maybe he was going crazy.

Her hands ran through her hair and she began singing that tune again, the melody echoing off the cove and making him stumble.

A rock loosened beneath his boot and her attention snapped up, a short shocked gasp leaving her lips as her eyes met his. She stared for a moment, and for the first time, he saw something in her that he had never seen before. Fear.

“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. “Wait!” He wound down into the cove, as she shifted off the rock, splashing into the water before swimming away. He sprinted into the tide after her, but she was long gone.

He collapsed against the rock that she had previously been perched upon. Her secrecy and her midnight swims. She had been coming here all along, hidden from him. And he had scared her away.

But he wasn’t giving up on her. He would stay put at this cove from his dreams until she returned, if at all. He would never find his own way back to the main beach.

He waited for her for hours. Until his eyes drooped, the moon mimicking as it gave way to the burning sun on the horizon.

It was as it lit the water in dazzling displays of crystallised blue that he awoke, sensing a disturbance on the surface.

He stood, stumbling and wary. He saw her dark hair break the surface of the pool before her dark eyes found his. She didn’t exit the water any further, and he saw the alarm in her gaze towards him.

“I will not hurt you,” he rose his hands, his tone pleading. “You… You surprised me is all.”

She didn’t move an inch. Hoping that in the hours following their run in that, he would have returned to the beach. But he had waited for her.

“I have searched for this island for years. I only wished to see it. No harm will come to you.”

She rose slowly, the water exposing her shoulders. He tried to keep calm, both questioning his sanity and reality itself. She was as fluid as the ocean around her, like two souls entwined.

“Many try to find this island.” She spoke lowly. “All of them mean harm, and do not leave here alive.”

He heard the threat loud and clear, but the softness in her eyes that he’d been seeing for days was no figment of his imagination.

“But you have not killed me.”

“Yet.” She bit out.

“Was it you?” He was shaking, trying to navigate the situation in which it left him alive. “Who called me here?”

“Perhaps you are hearing things only you can hear, sailor.” Her smile was wry and calculated. A feigned innocence she’d do well to mask better.

“Perhaps. Yet here I am. And you have not killed me.”

“Maybe you are already dead. You sealed your fate by coming here.”

The fog behind her wilted away, allowing his eyes to view hundreds of wrecked ships that lined the shallow shores. He wondered if one was his beloved Siren.

“My mother spoke of this place when I was a boy.”

Her mouth curved and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Did she now?”

He frowned, scrambling for the locket clasped around his neck but all he felt was his own damp skin. A phantom sensation of weighted silver whispered against it. His heart dropped to his feet, a wet, bloody puddle that she could sense.

“I… I dreamt of it.”

“You dreamt of me, too.”

He blinked, in a complete daze. His sense of reality was fleeting, melting away with every swell of the sea that kissed his toes.

“That song that you hum. What is it?”

The melody rang out from the waves, and his mind lulled completely.

“Do you like it, sailor?”

“I find it soothing.”

He was trying to soothe her. Let her know that he meant to harm, that his curiosity would not endanger her. No matter how many questions he had and how confused he was. He would only face what was in front of him.

The water around her pulsed as her humming continued, melting in his ears like a gooey potion.

He felt his body being beckoned to the waves, crystal clear and serine. His feet moved before his brain did, carrying him into the current where she waited. He met her there, where her arms wrapped around his neck and she took them further into deeper water.

As if sensing his onslaught of sudden panic, she hushed him, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Trust me.” She whispered. He could feel her… her tail wrap around his legs, fluttering against him. He had been internalising whether what he saw was true or not but now he knew his eyes had not deceived him.

Her breasts pressed flush against him, her hardened nipples brought heat to his cheeks. His arousal was apparent to her and a sly smile crept across her rosy lips in an effort to quell her own feelings.

“Does it not frighten you?”

“What?”

“Me. Like this.” She murmured.

“No. I was… confused at first. But you are beautiful. I have always thought so.”

Never mind the fact that he’d been dreaming of touching her this way for days, the lower half of her was little to deter him. He knew she had a human form of sorts. The fact that she trusted him as her truest self spoke volumes.

She pressed against him further. Until he moaned and his head dropped back on his neck. His expression was one of soft bliss that she wasn’t sure how to decipher.

“I have never touched a man before. Not like this.”

Her words were spoken against the skin of his neck. Wispy and honest. As much truth as he’d ever received from her.

His eyes met hers when she pulled away. Quietly, he asked, “Would you like to?”

“I don’t know how.”

His hands melted down her bare sides, meeting cold scales at her hips. “I can show you.”

“Please.” It was the softest he’d ever seen her. He took one of her delicate hands in his, guiding it down between them. Between his legs, where he was hard and pulsing, and yet, she’d done nothing. But her simple existence was enough to drive him wild.

She gasped as he encouraged her to grip him properly, and she did so gingerly, simply feeling him and exploring him. Far more intensely than she’d done when he was on the beach unconscious.

“That feels nice.” He encouraged.

“This is what you like?” She stared up at him with big brown eyes, and his resolve became a fine glass desperately close to shattering.

“This, and much more.”

“I would like to do that.”

“I would, too.” His hands found her hips again, her smooth stomach, and her gorgeous tits. Gently squeezing and touching.

She was putty in his hands as they wandered and ventured her body. Her scales were sharp and he winced as he sliced his fingertip on one of them.

He lifted his hand from the water, crimson slipping down his hand. He frowned at the wound, his eyes finding hers as her hand grabbed his, bringing his finger to her lips to leave a kiss on it. Her lips were stained red, and the touch of her lips sealed the wound, healing it right before his eyes.

“How many tricks do you possess, siren?”

“More than you will ever know, sailor.”

“Show me your favourite one.”

Her legs appeared, the scales seeming to shed from her skin and slink away into the current around them. He gripped her thighs, lifting her up and encouraging her to wrap them around his waist.

He moaned at the connection before her lips found his, soft and calm as the waves that lapped against the walls of the cove. The familiarity was welcome to him. He’d had her like this before. On the beach nights ago, before his memory became hazy and he awoke on the beach a start.

He guided the kiss, sensing her hesitation and fear. But he held her tight, kissing her softly yet tenderly, allowing her to follow his lead. She did so well, just as lost in him as he was her.

Her lips were soft, plump, and tasted of the sea. He wondered what her shores would taste like, lapping waves and unpredictable currents. An aromatic bliss he longed for.

He ground his clothed cock against her bare core, moaning against her mouth without shame. As if knowing his apparent enjoyment would make her far less apprehensive. He carried her from the waves, laying her flat on the damp sand before leaning over her.

“Your beauty is beyond anything I have ever seen.” He murmured, cupping her cheek and allowing his thumb to brush over her lips. She flicked her tongue out with a small smile before he pushed his digit past them. His brows turned in as she sucked on it.

Her hand reached between them, squeezing his cock with far more confidence than moments ago. He encouraged her higher to pay attention to the sensitive head of his dick, and she was rewarded with a breathless moan that escaped from his soft lips.

“What does it feel like?” She wondered aloud. “To be touched in such a way.”

“It feels… warm. Explosive and tight and blissful.”

Her eyes lulled at the description, and she could no longer ignore the primitive pulse between her legs that she’d never felt before.

“Make me feel it.” She whimpered. The neediness in her tone was all he needed to hear for him to snap.

He crushed his lips against hers, allowing his tongue to meet hers, messy and wet and obscene. The noises they were both making were even more so, and it took all of his willpower to not finish in her hand. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the sand by her head.

“I will be gentle.” He spoke against her temple. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How will it hurt?” She had to ask, wanting him to be as feral and true as he could, whatever it entailed. All she knew was that he felt so fucking good and she wasn’t sure how it could get better or what would even ensue.

“This ends with my cock inside of you, pretty girl. You’ll be tight but I will make sure you’re ready for it. It will not hurt. Not with me.”

She gripped his shoulders in awe, not quite understanding what he meant but her body was flooded with a rush of arousal that he saw darken her eyes. He kissed her again, his hands exploring her chest, toying and squeezing until she was a writhing mess.

He adored her body. Cherished it with lush kisses and his beautiful hands, kissing her tits and her stomach and neck. Alternating where his touch was so no inch of her felt left out. His teeth nipped at her hips and she unintentionally rutted them up towards the touch.

He smiled against her, licking a bold stripe along her abdomen with a hum. His lips went south, and her eyes widened in shock.

“It’s okay, precious. It will feel so good.”

His hands gently coerced her legs to open so he could settle between them. He didn’t dare look anywhere aside from her face as his hands squeezed her delicious thighs, spreading up over her stomach again before veering back down.

And then his eyes settled between her legs and he let out a raspy moan.

“So pretty here, too.” He complimented and a flash of heat warmed her body. “Have you ever played with her?” He asked, his thumb coming to gently sweep over a particularly sensitive spot that made her gasp. “Like this?”

“N—No.”

“No?” He tutted. “That’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how.” She eyed him, crazed for his touch already, her legs shaking.

“I can show you.” He hummed, brushing his thumb over her clit to entice a small whimper from her. “Would you like that? For me to play with her? Make you feel things you’ve never felt before?”

“Please.”

“I like that.” He smiled, using a finger to gather her wetness, going back to her clit to rub small circles. “Say it again.”

“Please…” She whispered. “Please.”

“So polite, pretty girl. Begging me to touch this gorgeous cunt.” He applied more pressure, rewarded with a loud moan from her parted lips. “Oh, you poor thing. You’ve never been touched like this, have you? You’re dripping onto my hand.”

“More,” She gasped out. “please, give me more.”

“I will. Be patient. Need you to be as wet as possible, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She made a high-pitched noise at his words, how gentle and caring and dirty he was. This world he knew so much about, and yet she’d only dipped a toe in.

His fingers worked her slowly, dipping back to her gooey centre to spread her growing wetness to her clit, drawing soft circles as she grew accustomed to having someone touch her this way. She was so wet and creamy that it had his eyes blurry.

“Is that nice?” His voice was dreamy as he watched her shake.

“Very.” She sighed.

“I have barely started.” He smirked at her and she threw her head back as he quickened both his pace and his pressure.

“What more will you do?”

He kissed her thighs, so close to where he wanted to taste. Fuck, she was so sensitive. Her thighs twitched and threatened to clamp around his head were it not for him holding them in place.

“I like that I am the only one who has touched you here. You will only know pleasure to come from me. You have no idea how hard that gets me.”

“Let me feel you again.”

“Not yet, pretty. Be patient, remember?”

“Please—”

He growled, coming up to face her, his forehead pressed against hers as he clenched his teeth. “You touch me, and this will be over before we can get to the best part. Do you understand?”

She fucking melted beneath him, submitting to him, her eyes wide and watering as she stared up at him. She nodded meekly, his hand still at work between her legs.

“That’s a good girl.”

He resumed his former position, nestled between her legs. The sight of her was staggering. If he was homesick before, he wasn’t now.

“Fuck, sweetness. I have to taste you.”

She frowned, snapping her gaze to him. “Taste me? Wh—” She cried out at the feel of his facial hair against her core before his wet tongue came to greet her. She sobbed out in relief at the contact, shaking against him as he gently flicked his tongue on her.

He moaned obscenely loud as he took a full lick of her, gathering her sweet taste on his tongue, and swallowing with a low hum. He sucked firmly on her clit, swirling the tip of his tongue until she was shaking so hard that he had to hold her down.

Her hands reached out, searching for something to hold onto, feeling out of her depth and overwhelmed while he ate her. He grabbed both of her hands with one of his, placing them in his hair.

She gripped his long curls, anchoring herself to him.

He pulled away momentarily to rasp out, “Pull my hair.” Before resuming. She listened, fisting and pulling at his locks as she got fucking ruined.

A warmth built up in her stomach and she felt her body tingle. He pulled back, wiping his face on his anchor tattoo before his eyes met hers.

“I’m going to use my hands now, pretty. Stretch you a little, make sure you can take me.”

She only nodded, unable to breathe, and not sure what he meant. But with how good he was making her feel, she was happy to ride the wave of him.

He circled her clit again, always paying attention to it, while his other fingers ran up her centre, watching her drip for him. He slowly, so so slowly, circled her entrance with a lone finger, pushing in.

She gasped, her spine straightening.

“Shh, pretty girl. Relax for me.”

She tried but felt so tightly wound from his touch that as he gave her his finger, she could have exploded. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was some form of a foreign sensation there.

“Is that okay?” He checked in. She nodded and hummed, jaw dropping when he withdrew his finger just to pump it in again. “And this? Is this okay?”

He watched her expression, a cocky and all too knowing grin gracing his face. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Feels nice in your tight little cunt.”

His mouth was filthy, only adding to her heaping arousal. She was so over her own head and any and every thought revolved around him and what he was doing to her body.

He returned his mouth to her clit, sucking, flicking, biting. Obsessed with how she felt and tasted. Her reactions were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Pure bliss gracing angelic features, moans, and hums sounding from her throat, sounding much like that tune that was often carried in the wind when she was near.

Adding another finger once she was saturated, he fucked her with them. Slow yet deep, scissoring them to get her used to the stretch. He knew she’d struggle to take him, but the way she was writhing for him made him think she’d be delirious once she’d gotten used to his cock.

“That’s it,” he spoke against her. “My pretty girl is so wet. Do you like my fingers? Hm?” She nodded, feeling insane. “You do, yeah.” He drawled. “Wait until you get my cock, pretty girl. You’ll be fucking dripping.”

She moaned loudly, so loud that it echoed off of the cliffs encasing them. He took her harder, biting her clit harshly. She felt as if she were about to unravel, a completely unnerving sensation as she melted into his touch more and more.

He worked her harder and faster, the muscles in his arms flexed as if sculpted and molded from marble. The sight alone had her struggling to take a breath in. She watched him command her body in a way that she didn’t know was possible, his mouth paying full attention to her clit whilst his fingers destroyed her from the inside out.

Her body thrummed as if coming to life. Burning hot, with searing blood in the currents of her veins. She tightened up, tensing, her body on the verge of something she didn’t know how to gauge.

“What’s happening—”

“Shh, pretty girl, it’s okay. This is what your body wants, let it happen.”

She cried out sharply, her voice a chorus of golden bells that made his ears ring with desire. She exploded around his fingers, into his mouth, all over his chest. He moaned along with her, equally as turned on.

He came over to her, kissing up her body on the way. “How did that feel?”

“Incredible,” she gasped, “I’ve never… felt that before.”

No words had ever been sweeter to him. He kissed her, allowing her to taste her orgasm on his lips and tongue. She hummed, allowing her leg to hitch up onto his hip, drawing him closer.

He rutted his cock against her, her wetness seeping through the thin material of his drawers.

“Can I touch you now?”

He sighed against her mouth. “Yes, pretty girl.”

She mewled, reaching down to cup him. He moaned, kneeling to remove his drawers. She couldn’t hide her reaction to the sheer beauty of him. She’d never seen a man like this before and didn’t even know such a sight was possible. His body was toned, tight, with broad shoulders and a nipped-in waist.

His tattoos were forms of art, decorating his beautiful body. From the ferns on his hips to that fucking tailed woman on his arm. He was truly faced with his fate.

She traced a shaking hand along his defined stomach, his abs trembling beneath her touch. He allowed her to touch him, enjoying the feel of her delicate hands on him.

“That’s it, sweetness. Take your time.” His voice was so deep she felt it in her clit. She hummed out a soft noise.

“How do you like to be touched, sailor?”

He dropped his head back on his neck with a moan before focusing back on her, her eyes alive with intrigue and a little bit of fear.

“Like this,” He guided her hand to his bare cock, and she gasped at how hard and scorching hot he was.

“It’s… you’re so big.”

“You can handle it, sweetness.”

He pulsed in her palm as he showed her how to touch him, moving her hand back and forth. He allowed a string of saliva to fall downwards onto his length.

The added moisture made him whine, thrusting his hips into her hand.

“What else?”

“Here.” He grabbed her spare hand, taking it to his balls, and showing her how to touch them. He whimpered as she massaged them, gauging his reaction as to how hard to do so.

He cursed loudly as she sped up her hand, bowing over her to kiss her deeply, messy and needy. His tongue met hers in a frenzy.

“Use your mouth, sweetness. Need to feel you gag around me.”

“H—How?”

She had heard of no such thing, but how he had used his mouth on her, she knew it had been nothing short of magical.

He helped her stand, taking her over to the flattened rock where she had been resting before. “On your back.” He ordered, his voice low and rumbling with demand.

She did as she was told, happy to let him guide her. She was soon on her back, the rock smooth and familiar to her. One she’d spent hours on, basking in the sun, memorising tunes, and counting the pretty shells she’d scored from blue depths.

He groaned at the sight; her hair fanned out around her, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm, and her legs pressed together to curb her arousal for him. He walked around until he was looking down at her face.

Taking a solid step forward, he cupped her throat, the mermaid flexing against his skin. Muscles rippling beneath its inked scales.

And then the siren before him, mystical and eerie. Dangerous and yet… she was here on her back for him, waiting for his next command.

“Grab it.” He ordered, stepping closer. Her hand wrapped around his cock, expertly massaging and touching. His jaw dropped as she smiled, obsessed with how he felt.

“Does every man look like this?”

“No one is this lucky.” He smirked. She giggled at his jest, his confidence unmatched. “Open your mouth, siren. Let me see where I’m going to fuck you.”

She made a small sound, almost like a helpless animal, and dropped her jaw.

“Obedient little thing. Stick out your tongue.” She obeyed. “Yeah, that’s it. There we go.”

He moved forward until his cock, still held in her hand, was in her face. She eyed it, intimidated and lost.

“Lick it.” He said softly.

“Where?”

He guided his tip towards her, “Right there.”

She gave him a single, small lick. Timid and shy. But the fucking noise he made had her legs trembling with desire.

“Take your time.” He spoke gently as her mouth explored him, getting used to his sheer size, memorising each vein. Licking his entirety with pleased little hums.

“Wrap your lips around it—fuck, just like that.”

She took his head past her lips and his whole body trembled. He pushed her hair from her face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view.

He encouraged her hand to play with what she couldn’t yet fit in her mouth.

He cupped her cheek, holding her still. “I’m going make you take it, okay? Tap my leg if you need a breath.”

She nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Okay. Yes.”

He held onto the sides of her neck, slowly working his cock deep into her mouth, further and further until he could feel her throat constrict around him. She gagged at the assault and he pulled back.

“Is that—”

“Don’t stop.” She rasped and he groaned at how eager she was.

He fucked her throat, slow and steady even though his whole body was trembling. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?”

She whined around his length, her eyes watering, streams falling down her temples. But she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him to feel the pleasure that he made her feel. She was ravenous for it, to hear his blissed-out noises and see what happened when he met his end. Would it be like hers? Stronger? Wetter?

“Fuck,” He whined as she let him take full control and use her throat. To think she had never experienced anything remotely close to this, and here she was, being so good for him and so open and willing. Maybe he really was dreaming.

Her hands reached out, one bracing on his muscled thigh, right over the inked tiger. The other went to his balls, heavy and warm in her palm as she played with them just as he showed her.

“That’s so good, little girl.”

She gagged at the praise, stumbling before her jaw clamped, her teeth nipping around his shaft. He hissed, pulling back.

She gasped, “I’m sorry. I hurt you, I—”

“No, pretty girl. Don’t be sorry.” He cupped her cheek, kissing her swollen lips, licking away salty tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be gentle with me. Do it again.”

“But—”

He gripped her neck. Not tight, but enough to show her who was in charge. The sun burnt through the fog, igniting their display in honey gold and diluted berry. He kissed her. Too far gone.

“Bite me. Hit me. Do whatever you want to me.”

Her eyes darkened, the calmness leaving her face. There was nothing but pure danger there now. As turned on as he was, he felt fearful at the expression. She pushed him back, too hard, and he stumbled onto his back, flopping onto the sand. Helpless before she straddled him, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

She bit his lip, soft at first, but then he let out a sharp yelp when she bit down with force enough to make him bleed. He growled, feeling the warm rush of it seep down his chin. She lapped it up, mewling and grinding her wet cunt against his stomach.

“You are fucking insane.” He gaped, his shock melting into laughter when she smiled manically at him, blood dripping from her mouth.

She allowed his blood to trickle back into his face as she leaned over him.

“What was it you said, sailor? Do whatever I want to you?”

“Anything you want.” He affirmed as soft waves lapped at the back of his head.

The curve of her lips tilted up, her hand coming up to lovingly cup his cheek. So gentle and tender. His heart careened in his chest before her hand abruptly flew up to his forehead, pushing it down until his head was submerged in the salty waves.

He gasped on instinct, the water invading his lungs with a sharp burn. His hands clawed at her wrist but the currents were her home. She held the power here.

Anything you want.

She allowed him to breathe, gasping and blubbering. He glared at her, his chest heaving.

“You little—”

She tilted her head, that fucking tune melting in his ears. Her other hand reached back, gripping his cock in a tight fist. He moaned loudly, whatever insult was lost in the ocean at his back.

“You like that, don’t you?” She threw his words back at him and he whimpered, nodding. His lip stung, the salt water invading the hurt.

“Yes.”

“Mmm.” She hummed before pushing his head back under the waves. Her hand fucked his throbbing dick with such a might he feared he was going to finish all over himself. His chest burned with the lack of air, but he welcomed the panic, and allowed it to fuel how fucking good she felt.

She let him catch his breath, feeling kind as she quickened the pace of her hand, paying extra attention to just the tip of him with the pad of her thumb.

“Fucking filthy g—”

And he was under again, his head submerged while he writhed underneath her. He could feel how insanely wet she was, near on dripping onto his skin, and his hips ground up into her hand, unashamed.

She moved to his side, letting him breathe before her mouth was on his dick again, licking and biting and sucking. Not letting his balls feel left out, even biting harshly into his hips until he was bleeding there, too.

He was dunked under the water for longer and longer each time, the fear making his body shake, self-preservation kicking in while his orgasm loomed right behind it.

She pulled away from his length, moving to straddle his chest, her hands encasing his neck.

“You liked that? The burning in your chest?”

God, if she drowned him he’d probably come at the same time. He groaned at the prospect.

“Let me taste her again.” He gripped her hips, trying to move her up. “Take a seat.” He gestured to his face. “Right here.”

She could feel her body thrum with need all over again, dripping down her thighs at the pleasure she’d been able to give him. She moved up, getting comfortable as she sat on his face. She whimpered at the feel of his facial hair, his beard thick against her.

His tongue flicked out, teasing and slow before she fully collapsed down onto him, giving him no choice but to completely devour her. The water encased him again, and he tasted her and the waves together.

She let him breathe every now and again, but he didn’t stop eating her. He’d been starving for a taste this euphoric all of his life and he was getting fucking drunk off of it.

Her second orgasm was far more intense than the first. Maybe it was because she knew not to be afraid of it. Maybe it was because the man giving it to her was fighting to breathe while he took care of her.

It was a burst of white light that brought shame to the sunrise around them. She cried and sobbed and whined, shaking, falling forward at the intensity of her pleasure. It was so wet. A stream of liquid erupted from her core, drenching him. He drank it, his beard  saturated in her orgasm.

It flipped something inside of him. Some feral, animalistic need. He grabbed her, placing her on her back, the shore lapping at her body before his tongue went to join it.

He kissed her, tasting himself, her, the sea, and his blood between them.

“I want it inside,” she whispered as she gripped his aching cock. “Just like you said.”

“Let me calm down, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, kissing her again, messily whilst his hips rutted up into her hand.

“I want it to hurt.” Her eyes were full of desire.

His head fell into her neck, “Shh.”

“Please… please, I need to feel it.”

“Stop talking. You have to s—stop talking.”

“I need it inside—”

“Shut up.” He growled, taking her hand away from him and pinning it next to her head. “Shut up, pretty girl, please.”

His hand ventured south between her folds, feeling how wet she was before he gave her two fingers, hooking them up against a spot that had her spine turning into jelly.

“You have to be ready.”

“Please, I’m wet. I’m wet. Just give it to me. Stretch me. I don’t care if it hurts.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved his fingers faster. “One more time. One more time and I’ll give you my cock.” He clenched his teeth as he worked harder. “I’m so big, sweetness, drench me again so I’ll fit.”

She cried out, gripping his wrists with both of her hands. She thrashed beneath him as he fucking annihilated her.

“Good girl.” He praised her as she exploded around his fingers. “Do as you’re told, there we go.”

She sobbed, struggling to take in oxygen as she writhed in pleasure. He muttered soft praise and words of encouragement, telling her how pretty she was, how ethereal, how good she felt milking his fingers.

“I can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock, pretty. Want you to cream all over me until I say you’ve had enough.”

“Please give it to me now.” She begged, near tears.

“Yeah, beg for my cock, precious girl.”

“I didn’t know I could feel like this. I need it, please. Please let me have it.”

“Oh, look at you. Cock drunk before you’ve even taken it.”

“Please.”

“Are you wet enough?” He mused, his fingers still exploring, knowing very well how much she was dripping. “Do you think you can take this big cock? Hm?”

“I promise.”

“You promise? You’re such a sweet girl for me.” He kissed her, lifting her legs up to hug around his waist. “I’ll go slow, okay? You don’t have to do a single thing. Just lay back and take it.”

“Okay, sailor.”

He groaned at the nickname, reaching between them to hold his cock, running it against her centre to gather her dripping wetness, moaning at the feel of it. He watched her face as he gently pressed in, swallowing her gasp as she gripped his shoulders.

Yes, she was obscenely wet, but the sting was still there. Sharp yet thrilling. And he had barely done a thing. He pushed in further, angling one of her legs up higher so she was able to take it easier. He was about halfway in now, his head foggy at how tight she was.

She hissed. “Oww.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, I know it hurts. You’re doing so well. Good girl. You’re so tight, so fucking wet.”

He didn’t move his hips, didn’t give her any more of his length until she was ready. Mewling and whining for more.

“You’re too big.” Fuck the way she was looking at him was driving him crazy. Awe and fear at the same time.

“You can handle it, precious. You promised.”

“I promised.” She nodded, her face out of it, brows turned up and her jaw dropped.

“That’s right. I’m going to feed you my cock until you can take it all. I know it’s big but you can do it.”

She whined, wiggling beneath him in discomfort as he gave her a little more. He was finally able to press fully inside of her, moaning as her walls rippled around him.

“How does it feel?” He asked her, his chest heaving.

“Full. Complete. It’s starting to hurt less.”

“Fuck, that’s… good. That’s so good.”

“Can you please move? Just a little bit?”

“Y—Yeah, I can move.”

He retracted all the way until only his tip was nestled inside of her before slowly rolling his hips forward. They moaned in unison, and her nails clawed at his skin.

“Faster.”

“Faster? You like when it hurts?”

She clenched her teeth together as he pumped into her. “Yes. Oh, right there.”

“What a good girl. Taking my dick even though it hurts. Are you going to cry?”

“More, please.” She begged, enjoying the dulling pain. The bite of it lessened, his eyes as deep as her ocean she frequented. They sparkled, alight in the sun as it beamed on them.

Tears of pleasure and pain fell from her brown eyes as he took her harder, screwing into her with sheer power, though his pace was still controlled.

“Fuck. This pussy isn’t used to being used like this, hm? Clenching around me like you won’t let me go. I’ll stay inside you for as long as you want, pretty girl. This is my cunt now.”

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back, the waves lapping at her hair. The way in which he spoke was driving her wild. His body was ensuring insane euphoria, and his words only added to it. Clearly well-versed in how to please a woman and it made her seethe at the idea of him with anyone else.

“Stop squeezing me like that, you’ll make me come.”

“I can’t help it.” She whimpered.

His expression softened. “Aw, does my cock just feel too good? Are you going to get wet on it? Yeah? Want to feel you explode on me. Give it to me.”

“I can’t yet.” She was too overwhelmed, still trying to get accustomed to the feel of him.

“Oh, you can’t? Is that what you think?” He stared down at her, his hips snapping fiercely against her. “Think again.” And his hand reached down, rubbing sweet circles on her clit. She cried out, her nails ripping into his skin so deep that she drew a worrying amount of blood.

“That’s what I want. Make me bleed while you cream all over me. Fucking crazy little girl.”

She stared up at him, her eyes swarming with terror. He was taking her mind and body to places she didn’t understand. Using words she didn’t know how to grasp. But she felt like she was on fire. His cock was so deep and so big while his hand played that sensitive area just above where they were connected.

“You’re about to… God, I can feel it.” He spat out, his eyes squinting. “So fucking tight around me.” She was so wet, too. The sounds that came from between them were making his ears ring.

“Please don’t stop.” She begged. “I want it again, so so bad.”

“You want me to make it hurt again?”

“Please!”

“Nasty fucking—” He grunted, his arm straightening as he leaned over her, fucking her harder until she was crying out in pain. But she liked it. Liked the sharpness of it. How he was massaging a special spot inside of her that was making her feel lightheaded.

His hand stayed playing with her clit, and he spat down onto his fingers to get her even wetter. The dirty sight had her screaming, exploding messily around his cock that he had to fight to stay embedded inside of her.

“That’s my girl. Precious little thing. You’re addicted to this, aren’t you? Can’t stop fucking coming.”

She nodded, feeling crazed out of her mind. He pulled away from her, flipping her onto the rock, bending her over the smooth obsidian. He spread her legs, tucking his throbbing cock back into her snug walls.

“Mmm. So fucking wet, gushing on my dick like a whore. You were made to take me.”

She clawed at the rock, begging for mercy. His hips hit her ass at every powerful thrust, his hands digging into her sides so hard she knew that it would bruise. The idea of having any sort of physical reminder from this interaction had her shaking.

“Harder, sailor.”

His hand grabbed her hair in a fist, pulling her up until her back was pressed to his chest.

“Captain.” He spat out. “You’ll refer to me as captain.”

“Yes, captain.” She rasped.

“Good girl.” He praised, biting into her shoulder. “Say it again.”

“Take me harder, captain. Make me cry.”

He moaned, fucking her hard and fast, her ass reddening from the force of his drive. The pain was almost overwhelming, her body wanting to satiate the pain but wanting to take him even more.

He could feel her body becoming lax as his cock massaged that spot inside of her, the hurt of his size waning as she completely melted around him. A wet, hot furnace welded together just for him.

Her skin almost glowed gold, and it was then that he realised that she had been the treasure all along.

He moaned softly, his body coming to cocoon hers against the rock. His pace slowed down, deliberate and delicate. She gasped at the roll of his cock inside her, how much more intimate it felt now that he was holding her.

“Pretty girl,” His lips found a sweet spot right below her ear. “So glad I found you.”

She stifled a whimper as he took her, whispering little sentiments in her ear that made her legs tremble. How he’d spent all of his life searching for something, riding vicious tides and sailing dangerous winds. He’d found gold, priceless treasures, and uncharted waters.

But nothing could have prepared him for how fulfilled he felt at this moment. Wrapped up in a beautiful body that no one had the privilege to map out and explore.

Wanting to see her face, to see those deep eyes and plump lips, he placed her on her back. His touch was so gentle that it didn’t feel real. Like he was a phantom of dreams he’d yet to have.

He stepped forward between her spread legs, always his good girl. Her hand wrapped around his cock, which was saturated in her orgasms, and guided him back to her wet haven. He moaned loudly as her walls squeezed around him, delighted to have him within her body once more.

She whined loudly, “Don’t ever stop.”

“I won’t, precious girl.”

She was near tears as he began to slowly fuck into her, his chest pressed tightly against hers.

“Do you promise?”

“Until my last breath.”

She threw her head back, and he took the opportunity to suck and nibble and kiss the skin, a soft sheen of sweat on his tastebuds as his cock throbbed inside of her.

God, she felt insane. Like her body had been immersed in a potion specifically aimed to make him crazy. He stopped fucking her, taking her in with his lust-speckled eyes. Her hips began moving at their own accord, screwing into him mindlessly, searching for release again.

He growled, holding his hands behind his head. His muscles flexed at the action, inked skin rippling.

“Is this what you wanted when you found me washed up on the beach? To fuck yourself on my big cock?”

“I don’t know, captain.” She cried. “I saw you and just knew I had to save you.”

“Thank you, pretty girl. Thank you for saving me.” He leaned down, fingers splayed across her jaw as he kissed her messily.

She made a restless noise. “Take me again.”

“How do you want it?” He asked against her lips.

“Fast.”

“Anything else?”

“I like when you touch me.”

“You like it when I touch your pretty little clit?”

“Please touch it.”

“I will, I’ll never leave her out. I’ll rub your clit while my cock destroys you until you’re gushing all over me.”

“Will you… feel like I do, too? Can you?” Her cheeks heated at the question, hating that she knew absolutely nothing about any of this.

“Yes, I’ll come. I’m going to come so deep inside of my girl. That’s what she wants, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She whined.

“You’ve turned cock dumb, haven’t you? Just aching to taste my cum off my cock after I’ve destroyed you with it.”

“Fuck, please! Just fuck me, make yourself come. Please.”

“Do you want me to use you? Hm? Nothing but a little fuck hole for me? Is that right?”

“Yeah.” She gasped, sobbing.

“You give me one more. One more and I’ll fill you up with my cum.”

“I can’t!”

“Does it hurt?”

It was starting to hurt again, from the intrusion of his heavy thrusts and how often he’d played with her.

“Yes, captain.”

“And if I rub this poor little clit better?” He reached between them, his thumb pressed to her clit to rub firm circles. “How’s that?

“So good.” The words were barely registrable beneath her moans.

“So good,” He breathed out. “My good girl.”

“Yours.”

The sentiment ripped through him like a fierce wind that almost knocked him off of his feet. Yours.

He took her as hard as he possibly could, his chest burning at the exertion. He spat on her clit, though she hardly needed the extra moisture. He flicked, pinched, and rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves until she was a crying, shaking mess that exploded forcefully around his cock.

“Fuck, I love that. Messy girl, soaking me like that. So fucking pretty.”

She clawed at his chest, not caring when he hissed and winced at the sharp pain. She knew he liked it. Her cunt trembled relentlessly around him, drawing his own orgasm closer and closer.

“I want it.” She whined as he hugged himself to her, arms wrapped around her to keep her where he wanted.

“You want my cum?” He moaned in her ear, her body his own heaven. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up with it. Are you gonna take it? Yeah?”

“I’ll take it!”

“All of it? Do you promise?”

“I—I promise, captain.”

“Gonna make you keep it inside of you.”

“Oh, fuck—“

He didn’t know much of how her body worked but hoped that leaving part of his own would become something more. Any sense of permanency on this fucking island was welcomed, especially if it was with her.

“Will you let me stay here? With you?”

“I’d never let you leave anyway, sailor.”

Days ago such words would have him cowering in fear. But hearing them now… it did unspeakable things to him. Spurred his orgasm from a soft tingle to a crackling fire.

“I’ll stay.” He whimpered against her lips. “Fuck you right here until I’m drowning in you. Make you take my cum and keep it inside of you until I’m hard again.” He grunted, fucking her so hard that his teeth were vibrating. “You like that? You want to keep my spent dick inside of you until I’m ready to fuck you again?”

She cried out at the sheer power behind his driving thrusts, his cock achingly hard inside of her, pulsing and throbbing as he neared his end.

“Give it to me, captain. Please let me have your cum.”

Her voice was soft, wispy dreams sent gliding over foggy waters.

He burst inside of her with a loud moan, one that careened in soft echoes around the cove. She gasped at the feel of his cum coating her used walls, her cunt rippling at the sensation. He was beautiful as it was, let alone when he was coming.

His expression was one of undiluted bliss, though he almost looked as if he were in pain. His soft lips parted to allow her the view of his two front teeth, his brow furrowed, sweat dripping from his temples in gentle beads.

She cupped his cheek, her heart breaking at what he wished he had been promised.

His eyes found hers as he came down, staying deep inside of her, his hands flexing against her sides.

Her skin felt cold, he noticed. Far more icy than what he’d felt before. Abnormally so.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, his voice not sounding like his own. His chest burned as if the air had been ripped from them, abruptly and harshly. He coughed, unable to find a source of oxygen even though he was here… on the beach.

He blinked, the sun disappearing. It was all grey, a deep haze as his eyes struggled to adjust. The waves lapped at his body as the tied came in, swarming at his skin like it was magnetised to him.

“Yes, sailor. You are.” Her voice. Cold and evil. The tune pierced through her words. He opened his eyes and the sting in them was immense. He screamed in pain, only for water to invade his mouth and nose, filling his lungs.

The cove was stripped away, in its place a deeply submerged trench. One that he had been somehow forged into.

And her. His siren. Her eyes dark pits, her scales shimmering with divine wickedness. Her tail swirling through currents she knew how to hold. He was drowning. He had drowned. He could not tell what was real, only that his body was no longer part of him.

Her hand reached out to him, touching his forehead as she had on the beach.

And he saw flashes. Flashes of the cove shrouded in gold. Flashes of her body and his body. Their joining. Flashes of death and suffering. Flashes of his ship and an angry storm that took it.

He had not left his ship.

He had gone down with it.

***

taglist :

@keepdrivingkisses @lolyouallsuck @victoria-styles @harrysonlylover

[endlessmidnightcreates]

Finally was able to finish the character sheet of my girl, Opal Skai for my most recent DND campaign. It's going super well so far!

Can you see all the lil notes I made, I had a lot of fun doing those :3

Here's the low down on her below the cut

She is a Fire Genasi Druid who is all smarts and like 2% fight despite her ferocious appearance (some would say). She is sometimes seen smoldering or glowing. But she is a Huge Nerd and Babygirl and a bit odd.

Opal is a Bookshop Keeper in Baldur’s Gate. Even though the town is regarded as a nest of vipers, she values knowledge and community and takes pride in the family library/store that she runs with her mother. People around it respect her and the store and it’s seen as neutral ground and is both used for gang negotiations and occasional toddler reading circles, sometimes in the same day. 

She Spends 50% her time in the store, 30% in nature and doing #HotDruidShit (like hot girl shit but with druids) and then the other 20% vibing. She’s quiet, but not shy and actually quite talkative when the moment is right (someone asks her a question about a book–or she’s drunk). She will talk and say hi and bye to people on the street. When it comes to fighting, she prefers not to but that won’t stop her from slapping a bitch (with her hand or staff). But like she reeeeally prefers not to (int. modifier Is -1). Mainly cus she’s Genasi and she is mostly untrained so she would rather not kill someone. But she’s capable.

More Deets

Occupation: 

She owns a small bookshop specialty store. Well, technically it belongs to her mother, but it will go to her once she retires or dies (god forbid).

Denizens of Baldur’s gate can get a wide range of books and scrolls as well as several common herbs and spell components. Everything from eye of newt to various animal bones. She partly keeps it stocked with her own foraging as well as having a supplier and an elderly mother (human npc) who watches over the shop and manages logistics. She manages the front of shop. Having read all the books and catalogued everything in the store, she has begun to work on her every-expanding growing “To buy” list that consists of various rare books and magical items. 

She has started to take on minor mercenary/adventurer jobs to build up capital. There are expensive texts and components in Elturel that she wants to get her hands on. These jobs have ranged from delivering 20 rabbit pelts to serving court papers in creative ways (read: transforms into a cat and tricks them into letting her in). Though, for some of the more rare artifacts, she figures, the easiest way is to tag along with one of the many Adventuring parties in BG to gather information on its whereabouts. 

Class: Druid

Why is she a druid. Druidism runs in the family. Opal’s mother and a few aunts and uncles are and were druids. Her grandmother was as well. It was only natural that Momma Opal taught the ways to her flaming baby. But Opal was resistant to the lifestyle as a young one. The spells, the philosophy, heck, being around leaves as someone whose average body temperature could easily reach 300°C made it difficult for her to find the value of the practice. She figured that blacksmithing would be more useful. Being a Druid helps her live more in harmony with the energies and elements that swirl around in her blood. She’s a valued member of the Druid Community in Baldur’s Gate because she’s just a cool gal, but also because she has helped many a druid get lava flowers (a flower that grows inside volcanoes)[i also literally just made that up] 

Combat 

Opal has only ever unwillingly killed once. She was on one of her many quests. She was an ox, lugging a massive stag carcass behind her. Bandits attacked her and she fought them off, maiming a few and kiling one instantly. The others escaped. She went straight home, fleeing the scene. That was the first time she had ever been attacked. She was rarely provoked or approached in human form because of her stature. But as an ox, people didn’t recognize or fear her. She missed a big payday that day. She doesn’t know if they survived or not. She tries not think about it often. 

Fighting and killing are not things she often does. She’s the type of gal to grab a spider and let it outside rather than smush it. But– She CAN do it. She CAN fight (in humanoid form) and she CAN and WILL hurt someone if they hurt or try to hurt her. She will turn into what the situation needs and act accordingly - need to make a quick getaway? HONSE. Need to serve court papers? KITTY. Need to slap a bitch? HUMANOID

She will not attack unless provoked physically. Her moral code is fuck around and find out but reeeally hopes that they don’t have to find out, cus she doesn't know herself tbh.

Childhood:

Opal doesn't know much about her Genie father’s side, though he comes to visit often enough from the elemental plane. She also has a way to contact him whenever she wants.

She has 12 aunts and uncles who are scattered throughout the country, quite a few of them are druids and frequent their local bogs while the others reside in normal villages and have average families and lives. Opal has ALOT of cousins.

She has an aunt and uncle who live in other parts of Baldur's gate. they sometimes take shifts at the shop. All of them contribute to building the shop’s library and maintaining goods. Her aunt is an adventurer while her uncle is a cook at a tavern.

Religion:

She believes in the spirit of nature. Thus she tries to respect it whenever she has the opportunity. Aside from that, she tries to be respectful of everyone else’s gods, except the evil ones (like bal) or the ones that expect an unhealthy blind devotion. She’s not a devout worshiper. Prays on occasion to the universe but other than that, she focuses on her own actions.

[astarionposting]

hey!! Could you share your favourite tav's of others? I'd love to connect with other people who posts their tav's! Also thank you for your tutorial's, they helped me so much <3

Hello! I got a similar ask but about male tav’s as well, so I figured I’d post it all in one. I don’t really follow that many Tav-centred blogs, mostly Astarion/Halsin/Gale, BUT a lot of my lovely mutuals have some BEAUTIFUL Tavs and I’ve even had the privilege of being able to photograph and edit some sets of them! &lt;3

My lovely mutuals with their beautiful Tavs/Durges/OCS:

@vspin (I love her drow baby she is so beautiful I wanna give her a little smoochie smooch)

@cheekylittlepupp (BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS GODDESS ANGELIC OC I am going to be doing some edits of her soon hehe)

@anderwelt (their OCs are so beautiful and unique, I had the pleasure of editing Ceres, but working my way towards editing Tae who is equally as cool and awesome and amazing)

@tadpole-apocalypse (so much beautiful artwork of their oc I luv Morgan sm)

@honeysulani (ALSO MAKES BEAUTIFUL SIMS IF U LIKE SIMS AS WELL)

@stinkrascal (pls pls look at their ocs i beg u they are all so beautiful and handsome)

@mercymaker (beautiful beautiful ocs AND incredible edits, just u have to see for urself ok??)

@asykriel (really hot and sexy male tav but I didn’t wanna say it out loud)

@narrayya (they make their own self-sculpted heads and they are absolutely gorgeous and ethereal and SO SOOOO UNIQUE)

@tugoslovenka (a gorgeous DRACONIC BLOODLINE drow lady and a new pretty pretty elf gal-also most badass names I’ve ever seen-I just steal mine from other video games 😭 )

@bhaalbaaby (many beautiful tavs, but I must say Penelope is my absolute favourite she is just so so soooo cute)

@julietvoid (NOW HER OCS ARE SO BABYGIRL I LOVE THEM THEY ARE AO BEAUTIFUL I JUST WANNA GIVE THEM SMOOCHES AND TWLL THEM HOW MUCH I LOVE THEM OK???)

@korcariiwitch (super fucking cool drow oc I love love LOVE)

@haarleps (i forgot to add but then remembered, VERY VERY BEAUTIFUL TAVS/OCS, especially Freyr also bc i am biased since that is freyja's-the goddess my tav's name was yoinked from-twin brother's name in norse mythology so i rlly like)

@malewife-mansplain-magus (this one is for the male oc anon- u just need to look like their ocs are just 👌👌chefs kiss ALSO INCREDIBLE AMAZING BEAUTIFUL ARTWORK I WAS LIKE WTF WHERE DID THAT MASTERPIECE OF GALE COME FROM ITS ONE OF MY FAV GALE FANARTS)

So there are probably so many more of my beloved mutuals that have incredible tavs/durges/ocs, I’m just really bad with my memory but I also tried to focus on those who (I think) post their ocs consistently 😭 so if I didn’t mention you and you are mainly a Tav/Durge/OC blog, PLEAAASE comment like I wanna see it and I also would love to share it for others to see &lt;;3

[bonesy-doodles]

could be just me and my former biochem student haunting me but...

how do elements affect and define a ghoul's biology in your headcanon? due to being affected by all of them, do prism's horns and scales feel like diamond or really tough glass?

what about swiss maybe? do ghouls have genetics of sorts?

(sorry if this is overwhelming, im super curious about your ocs eek 👉👈)

I love the curiosity! Especially this question, cause it's so interesting to think about.

I'm not sure if its exactly genetics in the sense that we as human and other organisms of earth have genetics, as demons, and therefore ghouls, don't procreate or originate on the terrestrial plane. So, there really is no need for genetics. I usually refer to it as their elemental composition when I'm talking about the ghouls, and it's almost like how a molecule is built if I were to visually picture it, especially for Multighouls. Or, it's also like an alchemical elixir recipe, if I'm getting all classical about my references for the ghouls.

I guess in a way, you could view the features and characteristics of the element presentations as something like pseudo-genetics, as it mirrors the way we can have different features depending on our parents. But, it's really just the way the elements decide to "solidify" when the ghouls were originally summoned into a terrestrial form.

For each element, there are common features that are usually present in a ghouls appearance, like the hues of their skin or horns, but also things could be random and unnatural even for the ghouls. A few examples of this are Phantom's eyes being really dark for a Quint ghoul, or Cirrus's hair being dark and straight when Air ghouls often have light curly hair, as well as Aurora's sclera's being purple and her iris lacking a defined pupil. The elements heavily define the appearance in a ghoul, but its not the end all be all. Its purely how a ghouls elemental composition forms, stronger towards some features, not as much for others.

Now Multighouls are where it get fun. This is the part where elemental composition really gets funky. A multi ghoul features, depending on how many elements are composed of, have a much larger pool of features to pull from. So, for our dual element gals Aurora and Sunshine, their features are almost split down the middle for each of their elements, just their Quint and Fire features being the more noticeable or dominant ones. As a multighoul has more and more elements within their composition, its more common to see them have one major element, and then the others taking a back seat.

So for Prism, that was the case for their composition. They have the most Quint and Air features, not as much Fire and Earth, and then barely any for Water. And yes, their horns are diamond/crystal like. If I wear to actually try and execute them better, the horns would be reflecting and translucent in some parts.

Now, for Swiss. I don't think I've ever talked about Swiss's elemental composition to anyone. The way his composition manifested, it's actually really hard to tell what elements are dominant in his design (mainly because of his visual concept being what's called subtractive color synthesis). But his composition is Fire, then Earth, then Air, then Quint, and finally barely any Water. The hue of his skin and horns comes from Fire and Earth ghoul features, his ears are Fire, his eyes are a mixture of Fire and Quint, his hair texture is Air, but the color is Fire and Earth, and his multiple sharp teeth is a Water feature.

But yeah, that's how my ghouls' appearances work. :D

[bloodstainsontengensfloor]

Rewatching Inside Job again and just thinking about how great the ending is in a sense of what it set up and ended. It tied up so many things but also made up so much room for different and new opportunities.

Like Rand and JR are in Shadow Prison, allowing Reagan to be the head of cognito. They aren’t super crucial to the plot but they still can contribute to the story in different ways (ex Reagan going to them (mainly Rand) for advice or the robes using them as bait/threats).

It introduced obviously the whole Robes as antagonists and a mystery to be solved, while also introducing a new dynamic between the main Gang and the different secret societies. It also introduced a really interesting place for Reagan as a character, having to be an actual leader on her own, limited influence from her parents, and, ofc, how she would deal with Appleton. Also Brett! Brett in Appleton showed a completely different side of him- a leader with a lot more confidence in himself but still needing the support of a team or others around him. It would have been great too to see how he could grow as a leader and a person. Like you can tell how much Shion wanted to grow these two characters and help them find happiness.

(The scene where Reagan tells Brett she’s running away is so good AHHH. The silence and how he just says “I got this” after looking at her injury, her deadlines, and her medication and how this job will kill her if she keeps going like this. This issue was never tied up or addressed and it would have been so amazing to see Reagan working in a place where she has everything she wants but so much to prove and so much work + the grief from Ron and Rand, how would she handle it??)

I also feel like, had the show gotten the chance to exist in its finality, I’m sure there would be so many callbacks from the earlier episodes. Nostalgia Brett would be powered up for the series finale, The Flat Earther guy would return as king of the mole men, and I’m sure even Ron would find a way to come back whether it be as just a reminder rod what could have been or as something more.

It was such a good ending to set up for so much. I can’t stand that it’s cancelled and I need some more fandom content. How many fanfictions can one gal read. Ugh, everyday I’m begging someone to bring this show back.

[thedisasterracers]

Any headcanons on the recolors and sakura?

Oooooohhhhhh I dooooo.

Citrusella: • A witty, confident, hyperactive, and most importantly rebellious but means well. She has the energy to stand up and fight back if it means her friends are ok. (She is the type to bite someone’s face, she’s that chaotic.)

•Loves 2000’s scene, punk, and emo music and fashion. Her inspo is Avril Lavigne. She does her best to recreate her style to the best of her abilities.

•She hates on Swizz cuz he told her emo music is not a genre. She somehow never let that go? Another would be how him and jubi take up space in the couch. (She wants to watch domo shorts in the living room.)

•Her and the recolors have a band, their called ‘Sugary breakout’ She’s the lead vocalist, and electric guitar player.

•She uses a lot of hairspray on the daily! Sometimes she even uses her sisters when she runs out of hers. She sometimes spends her sisters money on clip-on extensions.

•She dislikes how jubileena embarrasses her like showing her friends photos of her “fashionable experimental” phase. She gets back at her by playing her guitar loudly in the garage.

• She’s prone to be too touchy with her best friends, at times she needs someone to tell her to stop cuz she misses the signs.

Torvald: • The chillest gal around town. Who doesn’t need to say much to get her point across.

•She’s seen as the big sister to Sticky and Sakura for her chill attitude but Minty sees her as her little sister cuz she’s the original.

•R&B enjoyer with the style of Aaliyah. Mainly sticks to the 90’s, sometimes wear 90’s street wear if she has the time.

•She is considered the most honest racer, if someone were to tell her that they have a problem, she would give her full honest opinion even if it’s hurts.

•She’s a listener at best.

•Her catchphrase is, “Just be Mellow, my yellow’s.”

• Torvald enjoys doing comedy and does it as her side job whenever she’s not racing.

Nougetsia: • She’s quite a meek and timid racer, who can invent unique gadgets for the karts that can make the game even more fun and interesting for the gamers out there.

• Number 1# Bunny lover.

• Make-up expert when it comes to basic designs to the more complex. She has ALL of the foundations if you need it.

• Nouget love croquette especially if its pink, she’s a Beabadoobe gal. She loves alt rock and pop.

• She adores nature like her sister but knows it’s not always sunshine’s and rainbows. Sometimes she gets concern for her Adora’s sanity but it’s all jokes in the end.

• She is willing to do risky things just for fun. Like Hot wiring king candy’s kart and go crazy by staying up and going to parties with her friends.

• Nougetsia is a science enjoyer and at times can be a HUGE GEEK for specific topics.

Sticky: • The kindest racer you’ll ever meet. However can outsmart you in a race if you are fooled.

• She is the nerd of the mint sisters. And some would say the straight man of the sisters.

• Her favorite genre of music is lofi and indie. She enjoys wearing tumblr fashion, mainly the nerdy one. She’s inspired by Hemlock Springs along with being a nerd about books and movies.

•She loves watching movies in the meantime and is one of those friends who would give you trivia and facts about the movie when you’re watching it with her. (Just don’t ask any further questions.)

• Sticky loves reading books. Most of times she would go on the internet and buy books. (or steal, she gets it from Citrus) She loves studying about butterflies because she loves the patterns they have, her bow even resembling a butterfly. To show her love of them.

• Sticks loves creating poetry that would express her feelings about what she’s going through, or about others.

• She’s an all around a kind, somewhat sarcastic, intelligent, and patient racer. Who would break a few rules here and there if she can get away with it.

Sakura: • The starry-eyed friendly girlie who’s a bit tomboyish. She’s always finding new ways to be amazed by the world around her.

• She’s the optimistic sister of the Mint sisters. She can also be known as the one with swords.

• Has a fondness of early 2000’s mainly the poppy and cool stuff behind it. She loves wearing Mori Kei fashion, while listening to Hikaru Utada. Though she only wears it when she feels comfortable when being alone.

• Sakura loves making weapons, upgrading her own swords, or just practice in the woods. She even does parkour to cut down any candy cane branches to make firewood.

• She makes her own bow in order to let video game characters and some gamers not confuse her with Candlehead. Since they have similar features, but are very different in tone and style. Even when others don’t see it; she would just ignore them and mumble something in Japanese so they wouldn’t understand.

• In her time off she would sing by herself. She’s would do this when she’s alone and sometimes be comfortable enough to sing around someone she likes.

• She LOVES the outdoors so much that HATES being inside. Not to the point that she’s a stray cat but more like someone wants to do something outside and can’t waste time being inside. She would even stay outside in the rain just to have fun.

Ok that is all I can offer.

[sobeksewerrat]

Mini-Drew-Analysis for His Birthday!!

Since yesterday was my lovely Drewy-bear's birthday, I decided to write a bullshit little blurb talking about how I interpret his character, and how much (I think) people misinterpret his aggression during the drakeup.

I won't include anything about the music club, since it has been a while since I rewatched the series as a whole and memories of them interacting with Drew are kinda rusty and that deserves its own essay.

Like the Milly/Ep.3 post, I *might* briefly mention a lot of my own trauma or experiences and compare them to Drew's behaviours, so apologies in advance if that bothers you.

Now, firstly, I would like to establish his major relationships in the show since most of his characterization comes from said relationships.

ZOEY:

Droey is arguably Drew's second-most-important relationship, despite the lack of screentime (which I am really salty about).

Now, whilst I love the aroace and gay Drew headacanons, I think we can all agree that he did love Zoey to some extent. The photo in Zoey's room and the fact that he is willing to fulfil her ever wish are proof enough in my eyes.

Drew's love-language is gift-giving (same, Drew, same). It was been confirmed that his parents get him everything they want since HIS FIRST APPEARANCE.

"Well, they bought it for me last night!"

I'm mostly theorising here, but going off of this alone: Drew's parents have been (and still are) very absent in his life.

They couldn't give him enough attention nor affection when he was a kid so they just opted to shove lavish gifts and money in his face to show him their [persumed] love for him.

So, Drew grew up with the virtue that love is mainly expressed through money and expensive gifts ingrained into his head since he was a young child.

He only buys gifts for people he deeply loves and cares about, it's not just a way of flexing or getting people to like him (more on that in the Jake part).

Drew loved Zoey, from the bottom of his heart, so he bought her everything she asked for and took her on dates to the mall regularly to show her how deep his affection for her is.

That's why he was so concerned and "suspicious" when she stopped asking for so many gifts.

He wasn't worried that she was "cheating", he was worried that she didn't loved him anymore, that she was going to leave him.

Moreover, Drew is a very distrustful person by nature, and those he trusts, he trusts deeply.

Those are the only people he allows himself to be emotional around or express his interests and hobbies to, but even then he still has an invisible wall surrounding him.

He lets them be close enough to understand him on a surface level, but not close enough to see his true colours and vulnerabilities (same, Drew, same ×2. Also, Milly parallel!!).

Zoey was naturally one of those few people he trusted, and she broke that trust.

That's why he was so hurt after Zoey left him. He trusted her, he was willing to go to the ends of the earth for her, he loved her.

But she cheated on him. She took advantage of him. She broke his trust.

And even without all of the above, anybody would get scarred and hurt by their partner cheating on them, manipulating them, and using them for money (trust me, I am speaking from personal experience here).

Well, Zoey betrayed him...at least his other friends are still-

HENRIAM:

WRONG. THEY HURT HIM TOO.

Let me elaborate.

We don't get enough screentime to see Drenriam interact so I can't write about them separately (FUXK YOU JAKE AND THE NUSIC FREKA DFOR HOGFINF ALL THE SCREENTOME).

But, we know Drew cares about them. And they know it too.

"Come on, you know you love us" (Henry, Ep5)

And Drew doesn't respond. He just blushes, rolls his eyes and stays silent, which I think is confirmation enough.

"buT hE iS mEAn tO tHeM!1!1" I hear a Drew-anti cry from afar while clutching their limited-edition Jailey keychains.

My guy, my gal, my enby pal, do you even HAVE friends?!?

You're only nice for the first month or so and THAT'S IT, you've gone past the expiry date of nice and become mean and brutally insult each other lightheartedly and call each other "Freak" affectionately. Sometimes it takes even less than that.

Again, they were two of the only few people he trusted.

And they also broke that trust by hiding Zoey's cheating from him. They even think about her gold-digging as JOKE (flashback to ep2 opening scene).

"They were blackmailed!!"

I don't even think I have the patience to elaborate on why that is a stupid fucking excuse. Zoey had no dirt on Jake, no?

They could have told him to tell Drew, or they could have just told him but tell him not to tell Zoey they were the ones who told on her or whatever.

I think the only reason Drew stuck with them during the finale was because he was truly alone. He had nobody else, so he stuck with the last shred of his life before Jake left, even if he hated them now (still can't wait for the Drake-up 2.0, where Drew breaks off his friendship with Henriam and falls into deep, deep depression<44).

(WAIT FUCK THEN DRIAM WONT BE CANON SH-)

Lia(and why Dria /p will never happen imo):

Yeah no it won't happen. Lia distanced herself from Zoey,and she will definitely start hanging out with Jake and the others and completely ditch the Dromies.

Yknow just completely cut off Drew from any form of emotional support system let him SUFFER

JAKE:

Oh the dreaded part-

Here we go ig.

Jake sucks. He was a horrible friend. That is the thesis, that is the topic sentence, that is what I will start with.

Let me just document every major shitty thing Jake did that I can remember atm.

1. He blackmailed Zoey and hid the fact that she was cheating on Drew from him, which breaks his trust (I elaborated on this more in my ep.3 analysis!!)

2. He lied to Drew about being grounded to ditch him for club practice, I am not even gonna try to explain why that is super shitty anybody with 2 braincells and 2 milligrams of basic human decency (which Jake apparently lacks) should be able to realize this on their own. Especially since Drew clearly has trust and attachment issues (his clearly possessive nature of Jake, being that he is one of the closest people to home). Actually, he also lied to him at the end of ep1 wtmf

3. Trying to give his laptop away to Sean. It isn't even about how rude it is to give away an expensive gift, it is about how oblivious Jake is to Drew's feelings. He doesn't even CARE about what Drew feels at all.

Drew feels like Jake is his closest friend, like he's the only person who truly understands him, when this shows that it is quite the opposite in fact.

Jake doesn't understand that it is more than just an expensive gift given by a spoiled kid with too much money to spend. It is a symbol of how much Drew loves him (platonically or otherwise). All of the gifts he buys for him are.

Drew is emotionally-constipated. We (sadly) don't get to see how they met exactly (only one picture to elude to it). But, I think I have an idea.

Drew sees Jake, a loner who's bullied by everyone and sitting all alone. He feels bad and wants to talk to him. He doesn't know how to approach him, so he tries the only way he knows.

All of his other friends and classmates would always seem impressed and fawn over him whenever his parents would buy him something new, so maybe it would work this time?

So he approaches Jake, and offers to let him play with his new switch, because that is the only possible way (in his head) to talk to him.

It is not like Jake doesn't value Drew, but this shows how little he actually knows; that him trying to fit in has caused him to completely misunderstand Drew. Idk man I don't really like Jake so I don't like analysing him please any jake kinnie try to explain.

Now, Jake has been spending a lot of time with the music club, and that has been triggering Drew's attachment issues. What was so great about those freaks anyway??

That whole scene in ep.9 was just his attachment and validation issues on full display, an essay on jagged--dust-jacket-analysis explains way better than I ever could, so check it out!!

When Jake yells at him and leaves in ep.10 and implies that there is something Zoey is hiding it...it breaks him, for all the reasons I stated before.

After Henriam explain everything, it just confuses and hurts him more.

But why would Jake hide this from him? Wasn't he his best friend? Why is he apologising to those freaks, but not him?!

It must be that Hailey girl, she is the one fucking with his head.

He'll confront her. He'll expose her for the fraud she is, and then Jake wi-

(Look please bear with me on this part ik the drake up is a meme now but please let us try to treat it seriously for once)

"Back off, Drew"

Jake chose the freaks. Jake is defending them.

"The club is what I care about- MY FRIENDS!"

His friends?? What was he??

This...this was all for Daisy wasn't it?

What passion was he talking about?!

He never told them anything!!

Why would he hide Zoey's cheating from him!?

Wasn't he his best friend?!

Was he lying to them this whole time..?

"You're right. Drew, Henry, Liam, I'm sorry,"

He is sorry. Drew didn't bother listening to the rest. It was basically confirming what he'd already concluded.

Jake lied to him.

They all did.

"I'm sorry"

Those words were meaningless.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, that's what they all said!

Accepting this apology would make him seem weak.

Allowing Jake to abandon him would make him weak.

Breaking down crying would make him weak.

Apologising, when he'd done absolutely nothing wrong in his own eyes, would make him weak.

And if there is one thing Drew hated more than anything else, it is appearing weak.

Appearing vulnerable, letting people take advantage of him like all of his friends and his girlfriend did.

"I'm done with you,"

Drew walked away without making eye contact with anybody. He didn't even look to see if Henry and Liam were following him, and he frankly didn't care.

They were all assholes anyways.

They all used him.

Nobody mattered to him anymore. He was fine before meeting them, he'd definitely be fine without them, right?

Drew was leaving them all behind, he'd cut them out.

He would be better off without them.

Conclusion/Closing Thoughts:

I must admit, this did turn fanfic-y midway and it is not the most well-put together, I was really rushing to finish this.

A lot of what I am describing here is my subjective opinion and what I percieve ad Drew's P.O.V, not the objective facts.

Another confession I must make is that most of what is here is just me projecting a few months of therapy sessions onto Drew. My therapist dissected a lot of internal issues with me naturally, and they served to help me understand myself better and realize how much of my own issues applied on Drew aswell.

As I progress with my therapy and learn more about my own baggage, I might be able to remove the biased lens that I am seeing Drew through and might write a more well-constructed and objective analysis of him in the near future.

For now, however, this is all I have. Hope you liked it!! Happy late-birthday to Drewy Bear, and have a great day/night everybody!!!

[misteria247]

Muppets concept madness but mainly involving our favorite gal Julie cuz I adore her fight me-

If you were to ask Julie Joyful what her favorite thing about you was, she'd say it was your smile.

To Julie, there's nothing more wonderful than seeing her friends and loved ones smile. When they smiled, it meant that they were happy and joyful. And Julie loves nothing more than to see it. She's literally sunshine and chaos, and she'll do whatever she can to see the smiles of those around her.

Back when she and her neighbors still lived with their original caretaker, Julie always did her best to bring fun and smiles to their faces. So it's no surprise that when she warms up to you, she extends the fun and joy to you.

When she'd first gotten to see your smile, the one that wasn't halfhearted due to life and adulthood, but a genuine real beaming smile. She'd been over the moon. It's not far fetched to say that in a way she fell in love with your smile, just as she fell in love with her friends' smiles and made it her personal mission to keep you smiling like that.

Which is why she's also the first one to notice when your smiles start to become strained. The first to notice how the light in your gaze dwindles due to stress and exhaustion. And for Julie that simply just won't do. So she does the best thing she's known for.

She let's her chaotic nature take the wheel and tries to bring that wonderful smile back.

It doesn't take long for her to figure out the perfect way to do it. And added with the help from the others, it just makes her plans become even better. All she has to do now is sit back and see how her plan comes to fruition.

You get a taste of this plan when you wake up one morning and open up your cabinets to get something for breakfast only to find a note tapped to the inside of its door. Curious you peeled it off and opened it, being greeted by Julie's handwriting.

'You're absolutely amazing-!'

You smile a small smile at its message and already feel like the days getting better. Only it's not just the day that gets better. Soon you realize that there are other notes hidden within your home. Each one holding a different message and different handwriting belonging to the other puppets.

As the week goes on, your eyes brighten up and your smile comes back. As each new surprise note is discovered by you. And with each discovery it lifts your spirits, which in turn makes Julie giddy with glee.

Once all the notes are found and their messages read, you hunt down Julie and the others and hug them with all your might. Thanking them for the notes. And it's then that you smile the smile that Julie's been looking for and all's right in her family once more. And Julie continues to do this little trend, whenever you're having a bad day or are struggling there's almost always a treasure hunt of notes that follows shortly after.

And Julie doesn't mind it at all. After all if it gets you smiling a real smile, then it's worth it each and every time.

[missaccuracy]

I don't have many ideas for their characters but i have some basic ideas for azula new friend group (don't even got names for them) So i am just gonna call them by their abilities.(length of descriptions will Varey)

Combustion gal: she is a combustion bender (who could have guessed) and she is very close with azula as they were both raised to be weapons, and she thinks of her as a sister. Of course she follows the combustion bender tradition of being tall. She has a lot of issues with how she learned combustion bending (as its basically torture) and has nightmares of her "training". she has big fans that she uses for close quarters combat as her regular fire bending is kinda bad. I forgot where I heard it or even if its true, but I remember hearing somewhere that airbenders used fans to enhance their airbending.

short king wood bender: He has a crush on the Combustion gal, he likes to playfully annoy azula. The 2 of them play fight all the time as he is naturally pretty playful and azula really never had a chance to be a child. he has dual wood whips that he uses to spider man his way around. he can also bend roots to form a spring to launch himself.

Glass bender crush: She is a glass bender coming from the dessert of ba sing sae. She keeps a sand pouch like katara's waterskin but filled with pocket sand, she can harden sand to turn it into glass. She has a crush on azula and vise versa and everyone knows it, except them. She has a similar personality to N from murder drones and does her best to care and protect her friends. I also imagen her to have vitiligo and glasses.

Edgy water bender: (he is kinda inspired off of lunagaron from monster hunter) As you could have guessed, he is an edge lord. Think the dark one from the comics but less poet, more shadow the hedgehog and actually funny. He uses water bending to form claws and to move towards his enemies at a quick rate.(the claw things is the lunagaron inspiration i mentioned earlier) He is Arrow ace and finds the romance of the group annoying as everyone is so oblivious. Mainly here for the vibes and to chill with azula.

thats it for now

Interesting. We don't know much about combustion benders in canon, so it wouldn't be a bad idea to know more about them, or to expand the universe by adding new benders. And it's good to give Azula friends that are not all from the Fire nation, so that Azula can understand what the war was like from the perspective of other people.

[imglowinginthedarkness]

revamped some of my old mlp ocs !! lil bios and whatnot under the cut (o´〰`o)♡*✲ﾟ*。

Valentine

agender! they/it

their friends call them Vee!

their talent is writing those really cheesy and dumb valentines day cards that come in packs of like 24 at michaels. at least, that’s what they tell anyone who asks

a cutie pie, knows it, and often uses their looks to get what they want

their dad is a changeling and their mom is a pony. their birth was unnatural and 70% magic

bit sketchy ngl. lil bit of a bitch. talks behind people’s backs

loves their gf Cheshire and though they tease her a lot, if anyone else says anything even kind of mean to or about her Vee will literally kill them

Cheshire

Vee’s anxious bat pony girlfriend

lives in the woods

cries when she walks into table corners

her talent is talking to rodents? she can’t talk to any other animal but rats and mice love her

kind of a dumbass but tries her best. just has no braincells

can and will dissolve into tears at any second

usually found with a multitude of scratches from various encounters with unfriendly creatures in the Everfree Forest

nonbinary! she/her

Rag Doll

everyone calls them Doll

their talent is making crochet stuffed animals

an absolute sweetheart and is, like, a suspiciously good person. they probably murdered someone in a past life

has a very gentle kind voice and lovely doe eyes

demi gal! they/she

nonbinary lesbian :)

the kind of person everyone falls at least a little bit in love with

adopted kid of Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer

Rainstorm

her friends call her Rain, her family calls her Rainstorm

mute, uses pegasus sign language to talk

gf of Sterling and basically the only pony Sterling actually gives a shit about

her talent is aerial dancing

has a twin brother called Typhoon who isn’t around much but Rain still loves him

quiet and thoughtful. very introspective and usually keeps to herself, though she’s not antisocial

is bi! used to go out with a guy from the dance studio she attends

Sterling

defensive and closed off, doesn’t like being vulnerable

gf of Rain and would literally die for her, since she’s pretty much the only person who genuinely seems to enjoy Sterling’s company

her talent is jewelry making

has had a multitude of admirers but has scared off literally every potential romantic partner (except for Rain, of course)

disaster lesbian

has been in love with Rain since they were foals

volunteers at Cheerilee’s school even though she claims she doesn’t like kids 

Hazelnut Spread

goes by Hazel or Hazelnut

honestly a bit stuck up but really does mean well

more loyal to her family than anything else

claims she doesn’t like Doll because they’re “too nice”. actually secretly has a huge dumb crush on them and hates the fact that they make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside

her talent is making those super fancy crepes that look amazing but are really impractical to eat

her mom is Pinkie Pie, her bio dad is Pokey Pierce

trans-femme!

Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness

has like a hundred nicknames cause their name is a fucking mouthful. mainly goes by Marzi but is also called Mads by their family

SO loud like jesus christ bitch please fucking chill

its talent is making rock candy that doubles as hallucinogens

has ADHD and physically cannot sit still

the “rebel child” but in name only. she loves her family and they approve of everything she does (except Hazel but, you know)

pangender! they/she/he/it/xe/fae/whatever else, marzi’s not picky

xer mom is Pinkie Pie, xer bio dad is Cheese Sandwich

does a lot of ecstasy and shrooms

Chestnut

her talent is making really wonderful coffee. like it’s not fancy or anything, it’s just normal coffee, but it’s the best and most comforting you’ll ever taste

trans-femme!

very warmhearted and welcoming. has a knack for making others feel safe around her

everyone calls her by her full name, but Jagged Note calls her ‘Chex’ sometimes

constantly stressed out, deals with a lot of anxiety though she manages to hide it well. more or less. sorta

Jagged Note

Chestnut’s loving bf

known to everyone as Jay

his talent is making hyper pop scream-o music

trans-masc! he and chestnut are T4T :)

very chill and laidback, thus is the one to calm chestnut down when she gets overwhelmed 

claims to be punk and badass even though he cries at that one chef boyardee commercial 

[crispysnake]

Hey again yall:) here is pt.2 for my Outfit Inspo Boards for my modern au!

Below are the dudes of vm! The gals are over here if you're interested:)

Vax: Of course, I had to make him a balance of emo and slut, and he does so effortlessly. A lot of his flannels and sweaters are stuff he's owned since a little after they ran away, and a lot of his t-shirts (and the sheer ones...slut) and his jewelry are totally, 100% paid for, why do you ask? A little more focused on practicality, what he really cares about are the smaller details, always painting his nails to match Vexs, rings and necklaces from every place they've visited, and later on adding small colourful things to his outfits to match Keyleths (also 100% paid for)

Grog: Similar to his best buddies he prioritizes being comfy, mainly because he is physically active 24/7, his version of dressing nice when they go out is genuinely just a glorified lumberjack outfit, but listen he needs layers because Pike or Keyleth usually ends up stealing his jacket by the end of the night ok??

Percy: an obscene amount of collars and sweaters, let us pretend he doesn't dress how he does in canon and instead talk about how this man has owned that trenchcoat since high school. Jokes aside a lot of his sweaters were his father's and Julius's, some are thrifted courtesy of Keyleth, he just finds them the most comfortable, he likes being covered also she wear he coat. Addintionally he does have a gold pendant necklace that used to be Vespers and he has not taken it off ever.

Scanlan: You know I had to hit him with the button-ups, he's father ok It had to be done. Other than those he specialized in band t-shirts, and almost all of them were ones he bought (or flirted his way into getting) at actual concerts and tours, which are also the same ones Pike regularly steals, if it were anyone else he would be a little more pissed cause those are expensive, but also... its Pike. Later on, when Kaylie is in the picture, he gives her all of his special band tees and talks way too long about the story behind each one.

[unreadpoppy]

That Which Lies Beneath - A Minthara x Galatea Medieval AU (Chapter 1)

Read on AO3

Summary: Lady Minthara Baenre, an apostate of Lolth who made a name for herself on the surface world. The stories of her conquest of the Shadow Cursed Lands, where she now resides, cause fear in the hearts of many. And so, when the bastard prince Erzoured Obarskyr of Cormyr invites Minthara to his home to propose an alliance, she can't help but be curious.

A/N: This a medieval AU, first chapter has a lot of info on Cormyr but don't worry, I tried to put it in an understandable way. Also, you may notice that Gal's description is a tad different and that is mainly because this AU version of her is inspired on her original concept, back when she was just a DnD character of mine. Hope you guys like it!

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

Not much was known about Lady Minthara Baenre. Most people only heard the tales of her brutality, as she found a place on the surface. Many had never even seen her face, due to her hiding behind a helmet during combat, to protect herself from the sun. Besides, the lands she lived in were surrounded by darkened woods that few outsiders dared enter. 

The brief story of her life that people knew went as follows: Long ago she had enjoyed the privileges that the Baenre name brought in the Underdark, but after mysterious circumstances, Minthara left her home, going to the surface as an apostate of Lolth. In time, she amassed an army of other drow who had turned away from the Spider Queen. She conquered the Shadow Cursed Lands, once ruled by the general Ketheric Thorm. Minthara bested him in battle, coming out victorious, and although the strange curse around the land never fully healed, she made a home of it for her. 

Though she was shrouded in mystery, everyone knew of her prowess in combat and her mind for strategy. After all, her considerably small but mighty army of drow had never lost a battle. And cold as she may be, Minthara was still open to alliances, even if it was rare for such an occurrence to happen, as most people in power seemed to distrust her. 

That was not the case for the bastard prince of Cormyr, Erzoured Obaskyr, it seemed. 

Briefly after returning home from her morning ride, a servant brought a letter addressed to Minthara, from Cormyr. It was quite short as it was an invitation. She asked the servant to read it out loud as she walked to her chambers. 

‘To the Lady Minthara Baenre, of the Shadow Cursed Lands. 

You are cordially invited to Princess Brisdeidas Obarskyr birthday feast, happening in Suzail on the next two tendays. You and your entourage will be welcomed to stay in his residence during that time.’ 

She frowned. “Give me that.” She extended her hand, the servant placing the paper on it. As soon as Minthara placed her eyes on it, the words on the paper began to shift, suddenly becoming a different message. 

‘Minthara Baenre. 

I hope this letter finds you in good health. 

There is an illusion placed on this latter, as I intend only for you to read its true meaning. Though we have never met before, I require your assistance in my plans. It would be unwise to discuss my intentions here and so, I invite you to my residence, under the pretense of my daughter’s birthday, so that we may discuss a possible alliance. 

I shall be expecting your answer soon. 

With regards, 

Prince Erzoured Obarskyr of Cormyr.’

Cormyr. Even if she had never been to his nation in person, Minthara had heard of this prince; that he was a bastard, that he planned to overthrow his niece, and some rumors involving his daughter, thought she paid those no mind. 

Minthara pondered. This could be a trap, as she had no idea what he wished to speak with her about, and a meeting with him would ask for precautions. However, she had her doubts someone as close to the crown as Erzoured was - as he was the queen’s uncle - would openly threaten her life, should she go to his home. Besides, he would have gained nothing with it, as Minthara’s lands were not one that other nobles seeked to acquire. Considering the pros and cons, she came to a conclusion.

Turning to her servant, she said “Call the mage in here. I have a letter for him to send.” He nodded. “And tell him to also bring me all the books he has on Cormyr.”

“Yes, my lady.” 

She looked at the servant up and down and added. “Tell the others to prepare the horses and bring my trunk here. We shall be traveling soon.” 

.

The road had been longer than expected, but a day before the feast, Minthara finally arrived in Cormyr. 

The capital, Suzail, was where the noble and royal families resided. Lord Erzoured’s home was a smaller castle connected to the palace known as the King’s Castle, the current residence of Queen Raedra. The structure was large, fortified and imposing, and though it would never compare to the architecture in Menzoberranzan, Minthara still admitted that it has a…surface beauty to it. 

As she entered the castle, a guard led her to a great hall, announcing her presence and soon she was greeted by what she assumed was Prince Erzoured. Having read the customs of the land, Minthara bowed her head, only to not cause trouble in their first meeting. 

“Lady Minthara, I am so glad you could make it.” He said. She looked at him up and down, analyzing him. He was tall, human, with black hair and a beard. He wore modest, leather clothes, and no doubt could be easily mistaken for another guard or knight. 

She tried to hide her disdain. “Lord Erzoured. We are finally acquaintanced.” 

He nodded. “Indeed. The servants shall take your belongings to the guest chambers. Follow me, I’ll show you the castle.” Then, he took a step closer and whispered “We’ll need to go somewhere private to discuss.” 

“Lead the way.” 

As they walked, he spoke of the architecture, pointing to where certain rooms were or speaking of the paintings that graced the walls. Minthara did not pay much attention, more interested in seeing the reactions of the others upon seeing her, their shocked and scared faces causing her much joy - thought, if they were feeling that way because she was a drow or because of who she was had yet to be seen. 

Eventually, Erzoured led her inside a room. It was small, with a table and two chairs, a shelf on the wall filled with books and scrolls. He took a seat and she followed. 

The first thing he noted was Minthara’s choice of wardrobe. “I must admit, I did not expect you to come dressed in armor.” 

She raised one brow. “One must always be prepared for battle. Letting your guard down in unknown territory would have been unwise, especially when I do not yet know if you are friend or foe.” She squinted her eyes. “After all, your letter was very….vague.”

He raised his hands, in a show of trying to appear non-violent. “I apologize for that, but I could not risk leaving on paper what I wished to speak with you, as it is a matter of treason.” He whispered the last word and Minthara leaned, suddenly interested. “As you must know, I am the uncle of our current queen, Raedra.” 

“Yes, the bastard prince, as they call you.” She cut him off. “Though that is probably an unfair saying, as you were legitimized. I read that your father was the Crown Prince.” 

“Yes, and as the oldest, he would have inherited the throne, if he hadn’t died young. Instead, the crown went to his brother, eventually passing down to the queen.” He reclined in his chair. “But I am not here to speak of my family’s past. What matters is the present and as of now, my niece remains unmarried and childless.”

Minthara hummed as Erzoured straightened his back. “Cormyr has never had a queen before, and although many are loyal to her, others whisper that the crown should have come to me. I am older and I have two daughters. Her refusal to marry is causing instability.” He leaned forwards. “An instability I’d like to use in my favor, and it is where you come in.” 

“I am listening.” 

“I know of the variety of poisons found in the Underdark, and I’ve heard stories of your use of them. I need you to poison Raedra.” He said in one breath, taking a pause, and then continuing. “I do not need it to be quick. Small doses, so that she may grow sick and weak, while I gain power from within, and the support of the other nobles. Then, when she dies, the crown will more easily come to me.” 

She looked at him, pensative. “I know of a few concoctions that might work and if you get one of mine to serve the queen, the poison would be easily administered.” A smile began to form on Erzoured’s face. “But I fail to see what I would gain from it.” 

His smile soon turned into a frown and she continued. “You’re a fool if you think I would risk myself and my resources without gaining something in return. Even if my soldiers are strong, I could not face an entire nation alone.” She leaned forwards, putting her hands on the table. “So tell me: why should I help you commit treason?” 

“I can give you money, power, all of that which comes with the crown-”

“I already have those, my lord.” She interrupted him. “I will need a better offer.” 

Erzoured looked at Minthara, wondering what could she want that he might give. He remembered what his spies, the ones he sent to gather information on the drow, had discovered and then a thought came to his mind. 

“You have a very impressive army, Lady Baenre. But we all know it is not enough to accomplish your wishes of conquest in Menzoberranzan.” He leaned back on his chair, relaxing. “Were I king, I would have control of the Purple Dragons, and considering Cormyr finds itself in a time of relative peace, I would have no trouble lending some of my forces to help your goals. If you were my ally.” 

Minthara took a deep breath. She had studied the Purple Dragons, the standing army of the reigning monarch, before coming to Cormyr and she had been impressed by their tactics, being very successful in repressing the forces of their opposers. Under her instruction, they could be even more glorious. 

She stared at him then nodded. “A fine offer you make, and one I can agree with. But be warned, my lord: if for a moment you consider not keeping to your end of this, I will not hesitate to strike you down myself.”

“Of course.” He said. “Now, the hour is getting late and soon dinner will be served. It is best if you go to your chambers and we discuss this subject further tomorrow.” She stood up and made her way towards the door, but before she could leave, he added “I will send a servant later to fetch you for supper. I would like you to meet the rest of my family.” 

She looked at him, trying to see if he had any ill intent behind this invitation but found none. She nodded and finally left. 

. 

When dinner time came, Minthara shed her armor in favor of wearing one of her dresses. It was long, in a deep shade of purple that was almost black, with some silver embroidery on the sleeves. 

As she arrived in the dining room, the table was already set and Erzoured sat at the head of the table, two ladies sitting on either side of him. Upon seeing the prince, Minthara bowed her head once more. 

“Ah, Lady Baenre, dinner has just been served, come, sit.” He then motioned to the woman on his right. She had green eyes and a long, blond hair that formed a long braid, and Minthara noticed the familiar elven pointiness of her ears. “This is my wife, Lady Elinalore, and this” he turned to the other one “is my daughter, Princess Briseidas.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” The girl said and Minthara nodded in acknowledgement. Briseidas looked young, about 20 years of age, and she had light brown hair and her mother’s eyes and ears. 

As Minthara sat, she noticed a vacant seat on the table next to the younger half elf. “My lord, I remember you mentioning having two daughters, yet only one is here.” The drow noticed how all three of them seemed to tense up at what she said. 

Erzoured cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, my oldest, Galatea. She…is a very sick girl, you see, so she usually takes her supper in her room and-” 

Before he could finish, the sound of the door opening interrupted him and a strange figure walked in. The person wore a long, white dress that completely covered them, and two thick, brown, leather gloves that went from their elbows to their hands. They also had a peculiar headdress atop their head, in the shape of two, cylindrical horns, and a veil steaming from the middle covered their face. 

“Apologies for my tardiness, father.” The person said, and Minthara deduced that it must be the other daughter. “I would have come sooner, but the servant did not warn me and I almost forgot.” She made her way towards the table, sitting beside her sister. 

“Ah, Galatea, I’m glad you made it in time.” Erzoured said, unenthusiastic. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t dare lose the chance of meeting our esteemed guest.” She turned towards Minthara. “Lady Baenre. I hope your staying here has been pleasant so far.” 

Minthara looked at the woman covered in white in front of her. No discernable features were visible, it was as if she was seeing a ghost. 

“Indeed it has, though I haven’t had many opportunities to see the city yet.” She said. 

“You should.” Briseidas spoke up. “Cormyr is lovely at this time of year.” 

“Indeed, spring is about to begin.” Galatea added. “If father permits it, I could show you the city.” 

Erzoured cleared his throat. “Galatea, dear, remember your condition, I don’t think it would be safe for you.” 

A sigh left Galatea and she nodded, then turned her head to Minthara. “I apologize. I have...severe allergies.” She said, and the drow could notice the lack of truth in that sentence. “It is why I dress like this, lest my skin breaks out.” 

“Yes, as we said, she is a very sick girl.” The half elf next to Minthara spoke. 

“I see.” Was all Minthara said. 

The rest of the dinner went by quietly, and Minthara couldn’t tell if that was the norm for this family or if it was because of her presence. As they ate, she would occasionally turn towards Galatea, wondering what did the girl look like underneath all those coverings. She must have been lucky to be born here, Minthara thought, as in Menzoberranzan, a child that sick would have died long ago. 

Once dinner was over, they all said their goodbyes, and Minthara was left to wander to her chambers alone. As she walked, she could feel eyes upon her and the sound of steps following her. When she got close to her room, noticing no servants or guards nearby, Minthara’s hand found the dagger she had hidden in her dress. Holding it but not yet unsheathing it, she said “Reveal yourself.” 

She heard more steps getting closer, and in one swift motion, Minthara grabbed her dagger, turning around and quickly pinning whoever was behind her in a nearby wall. She hadn’t seen who it was as she acted, but as soon as Minthara had a moment to think, she took a step back. 

“Your highness.” She said to Galatea. “I apologize, I-”

Galatea chuckled, shaking her head. “It is I who should apologize for scaring you.” Minthara nodded, sheathing her dagger. 

“What are you doing here?” The drow asked, raising a brow. 

“Well, I live here, don’t I?” Galatea replied, motioning to the castle. “But the reason I followed you is because I must speak with you privately. May I?” She pointed to the door and Minthara nodded. 

As soon as the two of them were inside the room, Galatea spoke. “My father is lying to you.” 

“What?”

Then, the princess began removing her gloves, and Minthara noticed how her hands, up until her wrists, were as black as charcoal, with pointed nails. Then, while still keeping her headdress, she removed the veil. 

Her skin was of a white marble, but her neck and chin were covered in shadowy, black marks, with one on the middle of her forehead as well. Besides that, her eyes were pupil-less, black, and Minthara felt as if she was looking into an abyss when gazing upon them. Finally, she noticed the princess’ sharp teeth, and a few whisks of seemingly blue hair underneath the headdress.

“The reason I dress like this is not because of a sickness, as my parents would have you believe.” Galatea spoke. “It is because my father does not take kindly to my appearance.” 

Minthara frowned, not understanding what was happening. “But how-”

“Tis’ a long story.” Galatea walked towards a small table in the room, with two chairs. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a wine bottle and two cups, filling both of them and taking a sip as she sat on one of the chairs. “Come. I shall explain everything.

[dates-with-the-void]

Dating the Void Gals

I wasn't expecting to post the gals today, but I did so here we are! Bel'Veth was a big wing for me, since she was more recent in comparison to the other Voidborns. So I had to read her wiki to get an idea exactly how she's like to throw some headcanons out there. Enjoy~

—

Rek'Sai

You are perhaps the first person to exist to be fluent in Growls. Because that's a requirement in order to date her.

It's also a requirement you want to be a step-parent to her children, and said children have to like you. She was a mother first and foremost before a romantic partner, her children take priority.

At first it was a simple fancy for her, the legends about a massive beast underneath the sands, devouring anyone who crossed its territory was exciting and you wanted to uncover it.

Guaranteed your soul left your body several dozen times when she surfaced and chased you down.

It took you practically begging that you weren't going to hurt her and you weren't a threat, for her to settle down.

She's far more intelligent than most give her credit for, just because she doesn't speak any languages from the region. She understands English and Shuriman very well, just that if she did actually want to speak the language- she lacks the vocal cords to do it.

Just because she understands the languages, doesn't mean she can read or write. But you could teach her braille so she could communicate that way as well if you physically can't translate a word she said.

It took her a while before she trusted you around her children. Its easier to fake no harm to someone ten times your size, then to someone smaller and squishier than you.

When she did trust you around her children, it was then she basically fell hard for you. The children liked you, and you liked them. Doting on them like any parent would, all while being gentle with them, strict when needed to be (like when they tried to eat your arm, you kinda had to try and tell them no while prying them off without accidentally hurting them.)

*Series of growls* "Rek'Sai that's not how marriage wor- and I'm kidnapped now, okay."

She adores you, and she makes it obvious. So much so, you're certain no one would believe you the Void Burrower is an affectionate and loving worm.

—

Bel'Veth

Respectfully, she is the "man" of the relationship and it is a blessing to be accepted into her life, rather than the other way around.

She radiates every toxic red flag you could imagine in a relationship, except the only real red flag she has is wanting to change the world into her own image- and overthrow her 'parents'.

She won't ever lie to you, in some cases you might wish she had but she never will. She will be upfront and brutally honest with you, to a fault. But that's because she has no use for lies or manipulation when its obvious you're going to be her mate- whether you know it or not.

It's mainly the accumulative human DNA she absorbed during her creation that caused her attraction towards you, and she knows it. But she's not opposed to having a significant other to share in the birth of her new world order.

It's both a benefit and self-indulgence, to see how she can mold the inhabitants into her image, and to satisfy her desire for a partner.

She wouldn't change much on you, in fact she is willing to compromise on how much you're willing to change for her. Because she wants you, not your body. If the changes do end up changing who you are, depending on how severe. She will end your body's existence in respect for you.

But that wouldn't happen because she's confident she will succeed in keeping your personality throughout your metamorphosis.

If it wasn't obvious enough, she was the one to go out of her way to pick you because she had seen you, and after she's studied you she's deemed you the perfect partner for her.

Only deal-breaker for her is if you flat out fight against her in her mission, but you won't :)