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landfilloftrash · 24 days ago

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Crimson Runs Blue within Crépuscule (part 1)

***

If arriving onto islands with action and drama as things generally went to hell were a competition, her crew was striving hard for that first place position.

The speed at which the Red Dragon flew across the waves at first was astounding, and then Mister Jones had been willing to hear their new guest out— Lockwell’s and his own former husband— and then they had started literally flying. Their cohort in the sea of The Glittering Hoard following in hot pursuit.

The Red Dragon was full of surprises.

Vyrdakks had taken the note from Soleil regarding his first mate’s betrayal rather well, minus a moment of sputtering, considering everything happening at that moment in time, and had simply directed whatever he was feeling into getting the crew of The Red Dragon back onto Nassau with little to no fuss, while the rest of them plotted on what they could possibly do to disable the giant death laser aboard the kell’s floating colony that Misirak was planning on using on Nassau.

A lot was happening.

She would continue to mention this internally and address that ‘yeah, hi, wow a lot was happening all at once and I’m not sure what to do about it at this exact second’, because if it didn’t it might have a bit of a shutdown, and they had neither the time nor space to have anyone go mute.

She would mentally address the added stress from Ulysses attempting to obliterate Kallstrom from existence in the middle of the early morning’s night later.

For now, Nassau was rapidly closing in on sight and space, and the entire lot of them— Davy Jones, Gaura, Kallstrom, Pepper, Ulysses, Vyrdakks, and herself— were apprehensively planning as the island came into view. Abaddon, she was partially aware, was still the crow’s nest; he did not say a word to the group, but it knew he was listening.

The ship had lowered into the docks, having made berth once more and settled contentedly despite the hubbub on the topdeck.

“Fuck.”

“Shit,” it agreed.

“Well you know what, we really tried,” Gaura was looking at the sands like they’d eat him alive, “it’s been nice knowing you guys.”

“I wish I didn’t wake up.”

“Pepper.”

“Well. On the bright side,” Ulysses piped up again, “after this you won’t need to wake up any longer, because we’re going to be dead.”

“Ulysses!”

“QUIET,” Vyrdakks clattered, with a wave of his upper arms, “I will fix this.”

“We have things to attend to,” he huffed a wet sounding breath; she imagined eliksnis’ vocal cords were not meant for the straining language that was common. “Like Lockwell.”

“I think getting blown up’s more important,” Gaura countered, his expression unamused as his tail slowly flicked from side to side.

Ulysses continued along with Gaura. “I think getting blown up is more important right now, cause if he sees the laser charging up he might think its you trying to attack Nassau–!”

Vyrdakks held up two hands to stop Ulysses. “I can manually, disable, the laser.”

“Well then you better get going,” Gaura grumbled.

“I feel like your first mate would have planned for that,” Ulysses assumed, “and have a backup of some sort. Is that any way possible?”

“No.”

“Look–!” he growled, “I have to clear everything, first of all!”

“I have a question,” it interrupted calmly, deciding to throw its own hat in the ring and lessen the rising agitation, “a couple of questions actually.”

“What.”

“First of all,” she raised a claw, “when you ‘turn’ the laser ‘off’, does that make the timer start over?”

He blinked at her. “Y– Yes..”

“Okay, so” it pulled its claws to its beak in thought, tapping it, “how long does it take to get to maximum power?”

“Fifteen minutes,” he answered, tilting his head, “at maximum power.”

Ok. Optimistically? That was an entire fifteen minutes to spend getting things ready to tackle the ship. Realistically? Best to be hazarding closer to eight or seven at most.

Leaning on optimism for now, in case the first mate wanted to make a big statement instead of a practical one; It did some rough basic math in her head. “Ok, so if you cut it off at thirteen, before the blast is discharged, that could buy us.. Thirty-ish minutes?”

“About,” Pepper confirmed.

“If we can convince Lockwell–” it thought about what was possible crammed within twenty-eight minutes; a lot. “...Yeah I think we can do this. This seems plausible.”

“I mean, yeah, but I do feel like someone should go tell Lockwell we’re not dead.”

She looked at the triton in confusion. As if they weren’t going to do that..? How else were they going to tell him that his husbands were back and that it wasn’t Vyrdakks at the helm? It cared incredibly deeply for Gaura, but sometimes it was genuinely very confused by his thought processes.

“I mean, we have you on our side, Eno,” Ulysses chimed in, “so I think we can convince him pretty easily!”

It gave a small ‘smile’ while privately thinking. Convincing Lockwell was not the issue, it never was; it was going to be his reaction to the multiple situations coagulating into one massive one that was going to be the possible new problem.

“Alright—” Gaura piped up, “here’s what I think, here’s my two cents; I think someone take Davy Jones and talk to Lockwell, and I think our good friend Vyrdakks should deal with the laser so we don’t all die instantly and defeats the whole purpose of coming here.”

What–? Ohh, he was presuming that they were all immediately heading for The Glittering Hoard instead of telling anyone on the island what the situation was. It was very glad she had not been under his command very long, because it had a sneaking suspicion she would get lost very easily.

It shook her head in weary amusement. Knights, always rushing in blade first.

“That’s just my thoughts,” he shrugged, “makes sense to me.”

“I can delay it from here,” Vyrdakks countered, visibly irked by the idea Gaura presented, “I will not miss the opportunity to see my husband after sixteen years!”

“Well you better go see him fast,” Gaura frowned, “because fifteen minutes actually isn’t that long.”

“I have! A plan!” Vyrdakks exclaimed, growing both defensive and more irritated— if the hissing clicks as an undercurrent were any indication.

“Mm, okay.”

“Alright,” it gently cut in, “what is the plan, and how can we help?”

“Disable it, every chance I can.”

So nothing particularly on their end of it, just to do the things imperative to survival quickly. “Got it.”

“Should we go beat the shit out of your first mate? ‘Cause I can do that.”

Both Pepper and itself snorted quietly at that. Right back on track.

Vyrdakks, meanwhile, looked at Gaura silently. Its laughter died with a soft sadness. Having someone betray you was never.. An easy experience. There was a lot that was packaged into it; the Kell might not even really want him hurt, despite what was happening right now.

“Hey,” Gaura shrugged again, a hopeful glint in his eyes, “the offer’s on the table.” Vyrdakks merely turned away and headed towards the ship’s gangplank. “We have things to do. Go.”

“Alright, fine.”

“We can beat them up later if it calls for it,” Pepper assured, patting Gaura on the back amicably. The triton brightened considerably at the prospect.

As they started to head off the ship, she saw Kallstrom return to the group with a bundle of cloth— which he then took and threw on; a cloak of which he immediately started pulling the hood up— most likely so he was not immediately recognized and mugged on sight. A smart idea.

Stepping onto the island was like— not quite stepping into soup, but certainly like walking into a room made of compact cotton. Everything immediately felt muted. The air was thick, and foggy, despite the dawn of light peeking into the sky’s shifting tones marking it a rather clear day to-be.

It twigged something in the back of her mind, like flying had earlier. Something was distinctly wrong, and it was unsure as to the specifics of the gizzard-gut feeling.

As they headed for the main clearing of trees, marking where the island’s town resided, she heard rather than saw Gaura lean over— a shifting of armor on armor, rather than the clank of him walking— and start whispering. “Listen, if it comes down to it, we can just go in the water.”

It covered a laugh by coughing quietly instead.

“I think the laser will still get us,” Kallstrom dryly responded.

“Not if we go under it. You can hold your breath, right?”

Pepper had been seized by a high-pitched fit of giggles, spontaneously appearing from thin air, because from Eno’s knowledge there was absolutely nothing funny of the sort happening. (It was doing breathing exercises to make sure it didn’t join them.)

“I can’t breathe— You do know that electricity is very conductive to water, right?”

“Well..” And a small noise of discontent. That was a no then. “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas..”

“I’m..! Working on it..” He quietly huffed. The sour discontent radiating off the tiefling in that moment was strong, and it once again refrained from the urge to give him a wing-side hug. He’d made his opinion on hugs very clear.

They didn’t get to say much else, because as they all turned the corner of the massive copse of palm trees the sight of the People's Republic heart shut down any attempts at levity.

The town was not in complete ruins, but it was near it. Broken buildings, burnt debris— scatterings of cannon fire throughout it all. People scattered similarly, looking rough and worn, huddled together in small groups. She saw evidence of wounds amongst nearly all of them. But the true thing they all stopped and stared at was at the center of town; because there lay Silver’s dragon-bird— speared through the heart with a massive metal spike, tethering it permanently to the earth.

It also spotted Silver, laying next to it, looking for all the world to be dead asleep— that even from this distance, his chest moving softly confirming that he was alive— but that left it with the fact it that Silver now lay in the exact same state, that upon The Red Dragon, Casanova was in.

“Hm! Man, that’s uh,” Gaura began, looking over the corpse of the bird, and then looking at the slowly shambling people; devastated, “..nevermind.”

Houses were smoldering, the embers glowing slightly, destroyed completely in some cases underneath the dragon’s wingspan instead of by artilleristic bombardment. Families huddled in blankets. Those that were able-bodied moving slowly through the town, tired and lost.

Except for one.

Bustling around like their talons were stepping on hot coals every second was a familiar owlin, bearing symbols of the First Church and handing food to one group before handing a bundle of blankets to a group that huddled next to a small fire.

“Miss Mara?” she tentatively called, unsure how well its eyes were working, because surely—

Xiomara’s head snapped in their direction with feathers immediately puffed– her ‘ears’ up in the air in shock. If the woman’s eyes could get any wider, they did in that millisecond.

—Surely her auntie would by all reason, still be back in Kingston.

“Oh—! Oh! My gods–! Eno!” and without further prompting, she started sprinting through the square directly towards her, giving Enososin only a moment to brace her stance and accept the tackle hug that Xiomara gave her at full speed.

It was a ‘running’ trend amongst the Church, it noticed, that the lot of them simply ran and tackle-hugged; damn the consequences.

“Miss Mara—!” she squeaked out, “Hi–!”

“Oh my gods– You! Are! Alive!” she cheered breathlessly, “Okay! You are alive!”

“Hi,” she greeted again, unsure of what else to say in all genuinity, “What happened here?”

“We thought you were dead!” Xiomara sharply warbled the reprimand.

That had not been the question, whatsoever. Enososin was incredibly unsure of the extreme reaction to her return; she would freely admit, three months was so much longer than she expected, but it was not nearly long enough for Xiomara of all people to throw in the towel on someone being alive or dead.

Lord in Heaven she thought she was gone for three months by Vyrdakks’ account, which was becoming increasingly clear that was not the case.

“I–I’m not,” she stumbled, “I promise.”

“Ooohh my gods. Oh dear,” Mara patted its biceps as if making sure there was solid give to them before looking up with a wild look in her eyes. “3 months ago— There was a storm. So much lightning and thunder; and then the dragon fell out of the sky with the spike in his heart.”

“While we’re trying to help people, Lobo has been attacking Nassau, every week. In all honesty? I think he’s lost it!”

“Schhhhhhhheisse,” she whispered. That’s what Vyrdakks had been referring to in regards to the last major attack being ‘three months ago’. Not Gaura and her own arrival, but the arrival of Lobo; Taking Silver and his winged friend out of commission.

“Man,” Gaura murmured, “Looks like we missed the party, Kallstrom.”

“Okay. Uhm–” Xiomara seemed to register both Gaura and Kallstrom for a moment, her expression shifting from frazzled to baffled, before her eyes went wide once more, “Oh my God, we have to tell Rollo.”

“What?”

Rollo?

“Along with everyone else, your father has been worried sick!”

Her Father was here?!

If her aunt’s reaction was anything to go by; she was so incredibly dead.

Could they even deal with that right this second? No matter how much she needed to confirm to him that she was okay, there was a bigger, ship sized issue off the shore; It was going to hazard a ‘no’. “I– !”

Xiomara, however, was already in the midst of grabbing her by the wrist and tugging in a way that only this woman had earned to tug at her. Nevermind then. “Oookay!”

“I’ll–?! I’ll be back!” she called, to the rather startled group of her crew, plus Davy Jones and Vyrdakks lingering near the tail, “I’ll be back!”

“Be safe!” Pepper called.

“Yeah, looks like you have some catching up to do— see you later,” Gaura agreed, tossing a thumbs up as she was pulled away.

As she was pulled away she instead started meeting her aunt pace for pace so it was not tugged along, like a misbehaving child. After assuring her stride not too large, it looked down in confusion at the long-eared screech; it had to clear the air of how long they’d been missing for. “Miss Mara, how long has it been–?”

Xiomara was quick on the explanation. “It’s been three months since he first started—”

“No!” she quietly protested, “How long have I been gone?” A week of no contact was different than three months. Three months of no word was very different to however long they’d been gone. It needed to know how much damage control there was going to be, and how much of the earth had already been completely salted.

“Since spring!” she trilled anxiously.

Its mind briefly stopped and sputtered. Since spring..?

“It is the dead of winter, dear.”

Dear God in Heaven they had been missing nearly an entire year.

“It’s been a year..?” she whispered in horror.

“Uh– Oh gods, it has–” Mara cried, “Yes! Yes, it has!”

“We were gone for…?” Surely not—? How-? What?! “We were only on that island for a day or two at most—?! Oh heavens.”

Mara’s anxious trilling was not helping its headspace any as she whistled a softly repeating, “Ohh dear, oh gods..”

“I hate timey-wimey shenanigans–!” Briefly letting its face fall into her free hand to clutch the sides of her head— digging claws through feathers before pulling its hand through and back away. “Okay.”

“Oh dear, oh dear.”

That was enough of that, for right this second. It needed to stop Mara’s growing anxiety before Eno either joined her, or snapped at her. Neither were helpful.

“Okay, don’t you think—” and she started pulling enough that Xiomara started to slow their frog march, and to perhaps stop the anxiety spiral the choirwoman was clearly going through, “don’t you think I should help heal? What–?”

“Oh!” she startled, surprised at the question as they stopped walking for a moment and her aunt pulled herself together to take a moment to breathe. “I..! Oh.. I don’t know..”

She quietly prodded. “Miss Mara…” “We have it covered, for now, we’ve had it covered for a bit. Uhm,” finally the question Mara had been holding in for enough time that it practically exploded from her beak; “Where have you been?!?”

“I–!” she broke off. It couldn’t explain the actual details. Not without risking her aunt’s health. “An island. It—”

“For an entire year!?” “No!” She rushed, feeling herself flatten in fear of being misunderstood; God, she would never intentionally do that without telling.

Intentionally was the key word.

Because the fact of the matter was it had, and she couldn’t even explain the actual truth of it. Not that it really wanted to, not to Xiomara, because that would really only serve to stress the older woman out, and it was trying to manage that; not feed into it. But she sure could explain part of the truth. “I– Okay. The properties of the island itself.. It seems to have… during our stay, unaligned us with the proper flow of things. We honestly couldn’t have gotten off faster unless we dragged people kicking and screaming.” “Oh dear, okay.. Good thing is you! Are alive and well.”

‘Well’ was an extremely subjective term and it was not going to be looking into its headspace at the current moment in time! She merely confirmed; “I am alive.”

Her aunt sighed in relief, feathers settling ever so slightly as its hands were pressed. “I'm just glad to have you right now.”

Great. Fantastic. Minor crisis of Miss Xiomara going supernova in anxiety averted for right this second. But as they both continued, once again moving, it could only look around at the destroyed homes and people and murmur to herself in turn. “Oh Heavens.. Oh gods..”

“You seem frazzled dear,” oh God, they really were just switching who had the severest amount of anxiety between the two of them, “are you alright?”

“I..?” Alive. On an island. No clue as to why everything seemed particularly wrong from the ocean to the very air. Concerned on a higher level, and it was getting to her control levels. “I’m fine.”

But that wasn’t fair to Mara, who had seen pretty much every state of anxiety Eno had ever gone through; if she hadn’t, Rollo most definitely had.

Okay. How to explain this.

“I–? you–?” Horrible start, Folook. Gather the words fucking needed. It took a breath for a moment, and tried again. “To give you a slight— ehm? Explanation…? As to why I’m.. Like this? In my eyes, I was here nearly two weeks ago.”

“This is–!” it could only gesticulate to the area surrounding them, “Jarring.”

Understanding flooded her eyes and posture as she blinked in response; having dealt with this for three months was probably a little desensitizing. “Oh..”

A deeply exhausted, familiar, bellow cut through their conversation. “Xiomara! We have injured.”

“Rollo, Rollo, Rollo!” Miss Mara called, frantic and excited in equal measure; any sort of calm gone as she pulled Eno towards her Father with such a tight grip it was jarring to be moved. “She’s not dead!”

“What?? Who?” came the confused reply, footsteps and voice growing louder as he came to see what Mara was talking about. “Who is—”

The cutoff couldn’t have been more abrupt, as the man himself came into view. He had once more gone through a change she had not been present for; An armored goliath stood before them. Broad frame that was made broader still by pauldrons and the fur draped artfully from beneath. The intricately designed armor was hidden beneath a brighter piece of cloth, decorated lightly with small patterns the light only caught when he moved and hid the deel beneath, equally patterned. The surcoat was held in place with a belt twisting vines of symbols decorating it, as well as draping decorations that hung from it of the Church. The entirety of it wasn’t ragged, per-se but it had most definitely seen wear and battle. It was as much a statement as it was battle-gear; get out of his way.

Papa.

About twenty different starts came to mind, all wanting information for very different things— ‘A year passed. I missed something.’ ‘Your clothes?’ ‘Why are you here?’ ‘I’m sorry’ ‘Why is Mara here on Nassau?’ ‘What happened while I was gone?’ but she fell back on a shy wave and a quiet, if frazzled greeting, “Hello again.”

“..Twice.”

It refrained from flinching, just barely.

“I do seem to have a bad habit of doing this!” she agreed, a mite hysterically.

Xiomara, unaware of the other’s internal plight, had changed her familiar iron grip from Eno’s hand to her shoulder, and partially pulled her down as the choirwoman frantically chattered with jerky movements. “She is physical! She is real! Otherwise, I have just completely lost it!!”

“Not yet, not yet,” it quickly reassured in a whisper, patting her poor Aunt’s hand and gripping Xiomara’s shoulder in solidarity. There wasn’t much she could do when poor Miss Mara got into a frantic state, only get something to snap her out of it, and from the other woman’s grasp on her, she was not moving.

Rollo stood there, staring. The basket he carried— because he did carry one, supplies no doubt from his running around— she had noticed his hand had been partially loose, and then abruptly, it tightened. The whites of his knuckles not even showing as the basket shattered like poorly woven string in his grip.

Both owlins paused in their movements with a quietly whispered, ‘ah’, and ‘oh dear’, from them respectively, with equal softness.

“Xiomara,” he repeated, “the wounded.”

There was not a moment of debate from the long-eared eastern screech, as she nodded and began to hustle off. Eno was partially pulled along by her aunt’s grip as much as Enososin herself attempted to follow to help.

That was— of course— stopped, by Rollo looking at her directly with a raised hand.

Firmly stopping in her tracks with a widened stance, Xiomara’s hold on her broke by sheer repelling forces. The woman briefly paused, her stride broken only to look at her in a silent confirmation of sanity, before once again making her way to the critically wounded or sick.

When Mara’s clicking footsteps had retreated enough for the goliath’s ear to no longer catch them, he finally spoke; his eyes having not left her the entire time. “What happened.”

Its first instinct was to immediately tell him in full what had happened– but it forcefully stopped any of that from coming out. It was not going to risk the literal unraveling of the man before her. Which left… it preemptively scrunched its face at the mere prospect of lying to her father, even by omission and for his own health. “Do you want the long version or the short?” She asked instead.

“You’re going—” and he stopped. His face finally breaking from its barely kept together neutrality and staring solely at her, to looking partially off to the distance, and shifting through so many micro-expressions at once she didn’t even try to categorize them individually. There was a short and heavy exhale of breath, like someone had punched him in the chest before his eyes snapped back to her face with a familiar fire burning in it. “A year.”

Ah. That had been grief then. “I know,” it whispered. “I did not—”

“You said a week.”

“I did,” she spoke a little louder, “And I was only gone a week!”

“However—!” it tried begin an explanation, only to be met with a wall.

“One small mission, to help assist— some.. admiral,” he hissed the word like poison— rage starting to very visibly seeth into both his face and tone as the small list laid like a heavy stone between them, “to subdue some pirates.”

“And a year,” he nearly roared— fuming with such a furious anger she’d never seen that it nearly caused a retreat from her inching its way closer.

“I know,” she whispered again. What else could it do? From its own perspective, this shouldn’t even be happening. None of this was right. Rollo shouldn’t be here. Why was he not in Kingston? Silver shouldn’t be in a coma and his bird should not have been struck through the heart.

“A year— where I thought you were dead,” he spat, gesturing his hand sharply. “And then you’re alive. And then you’re dead, again.”

Very slowly throughout his growing frantic state she had made herself a bit smaller. Not out of fear that he would hurt her, or think of an attempt to actually strike her, but out of shame. A thousand apologies were fighting in her chest, and none of them mattered, because its father was shaking with terror and anger at its disappearance again and all it wanted to do was hug him.

But she closed her eyes and hid its wince with a grimace of sorts at the continued onslaught. “Yeah,” with a pained whisper as a reply. “I can give an explanation.”

“An explanation is not good enough,” he huffed, rage simmering back down to a more simple anger; directed somewhere else, “because now the world is…. It’s bad.”

“Rotting,” she murmured, remembering Celestine’s words and the snow in the air near the end of spring, “It’s rotting. I know.”

He shook his head, face falling to something more of a pained look. “Worse. It’s stagnant.”

“Oh..” It was barely above a breath of sound. Rot meant things were at least moving; not in an entirely good way, but in a way that meant life was proceeding as it should in certain capacities. Stagnation on the other hand... “Oh dear..”

He continued— his eyes falling closed at the explanation of how the world was collapsing. “The water is no longer flowing.”

Her eyes sharpened in realization. Wait. “That's..”

He pointed out the sea, glaring out at it with exhaustion. “Look out at the bay.”

With a blink she slowly straightened herself out to peer intently at the water. It wasn’t moving— like they were at the edge of a pond, instead of on an island in the middle of the sea. There were no tides. No waves beating against the shore, even fragmentally; it was still against the beach. The sun may not have risen in the dawn’s early catches, but the strange.. Lightlessness finally caught its attention as well.

That’s what had twigged at her brain. The Red Dragon had been completely moving herself forward, with absolutely no assistance from the elements at all.

If the ship had been a normal one, such as what the Navy mainly armed themselves with, they would have been dead in the water the second they left the Goddess’ island.

“The stars,” the list furthered with angry dismay, “have become incomprehensible— to even Celestine.”

He gestured in a strange aborted shrugging movement, with a shake of his head. “I left Kingston, to come here, because I thought maybe you had abandoned your post. Done the unthinkable, but no.”

Oh. She couldn’t hide her sharp flinch at that.

That hurt.

“I did not abandon my post,” she pleaded quietly, voice cracking. I would never abandon you.

His face softened by a fraction. “I know that now,” came a small lilt.

She breathed quietly. That had hurt. Fine. Explanation time, because comment earlier aside, he damn well deserved one. “The island we were on,” she began, stronger in posture and tone, “we were only there for two days.”

“When we came back— out—” she emphasized, pained at being unable to explain to one of the most important people in her life why ‘out’ was the only word she could use, “this is what greeted us.”

Everything war-torn and unmoving. “We were only gone a week and a day.”

“I do not blame you,” he slumped briefly, his voice grown shaky as hers firmed. “But you must understand that the absence.. Has caused.. issues.”

As if the list he had just provided and the fact Silver and his dragon lay unwakeable in the town center did not cement that fact into its brain like a hot brand. “I see that.” “I am not the only father grieving.”

Strike two for sharp wincing. It took a lot right there not to just say ‘damn it all’ to the consequences and hug him, but there were important things to be divulged and if she hugged him right now she was not going to stop.

“Lobo,” she whispered, thinking of the devastation wrought.

“Lockwell,” he stressed.

“And Lockwell,” she repeated— before the words ‘father’ and ‘Lockwell’ well and truly registered in its mind in remembrance. That was an issue that was going to need explanation too. “Cass— oh sh– MMMMM.”

Rollo’s eyes widened by inches.

“Cass is alive,” she frantically emphasized before any other idea could take firmly root, “Cass is alive—”

“Thank God,” he snapped, shaking his head briefly as if physically removing the dread that briefly appeared on his face and the possibilities that had begun to appear in his mind’s eye.

“—but he’s in a coma of sorts.”

He blinked a couple times. Her father seemed to near immediately pick up what she was getting at; “Similar to Silver.”

“Yes,” she nodded, and then squinted to the side in thought towards where she’d come from. Both Silver and Casanova were in a similar coma, but in completely different situations— unless Lobo had something similar to what the Seekers had used on the tiefling, and in which case, they needed to find a cure for both of them, which might not be a spell or physical salve. It trailed off in thought. “I..”

“I’ve tried all I can to help him, but..” he told her, breaking it out of her searching thoughts, and trailed off as he looked at his hands. “I’ve lost it.”

Lost–? Oh. With how much that had happened in the past few hours, it was easy to let previous worries slip under the newer and more pressing matters. Concern seized its heart with a fierceness of a krakens’ grasp, and she continued to approach Rollo once again; closer still until it was near right in front of him and grasped one of his hands.

“I can not feel the Light anymore,” came the distressed murmur, gripping her hand in return. Strong and warm as always, but the energy was sharp. “All I have is just fire and rage.”

“..That’s okay.”

He laughed bitterly at her confidence. “Oh— No, it isn’t.”

“Yes it is,” she affirmed, pressing his hand in both of hers this time, “because it was what you have. And that is what we have to work with.”

Because if it wasn’t ok, then they had both been doomed from the start of the race, and that was not what Rollo had taught her. Work with it, not against it.

He gazed at her with banked and bloody embers burning within. “We will have to work hard then.”

Not breaking her hold on him, she nodded at him firmly. Come Hell and high water.

There was a brief moment of silence and resettling, before his hand squeezed both of hers tightly, and his other reached out to drag her closer— her hands dropped as he dragged her even closer into a hug her bones had missed.

How else could she respond but in kind? As soon as she saw his hand reach out she had started moving that last foot of space and wrapping her arms around him in the tightest hug she could manage as she pressed her face into his collarbone. I’m so so sorry. I missed you.

As she squeezed everything she had into the hug, she felt Rollo press back even tighter, bones popping between the both of them. I missed you too.

They stayed there for a moment, and even with the stagnation, it told itself that if it had its father and its crew by its side, she didn’t think the end would be so bad.

It was a selfish thought, but a true one.

Before they completely broke the contact, Rollo murmured down to her; fortifying them both for the break. “Go and talk to Lockwell, tell him what you know.”

“Were you at least successful,” he nearly pleaded as they pulled apart, still holding her arms.

“Yes,” she accentuated, relief seeping through, and then she realized that it was going to have to explain Vyrdakks’ presence to him, “doubly so, actually.”

Her father’s face briefly contorted into his ‘Surely, I must not have heard you correctly, please say again?’ expression. “What?”

“Both husbands, actually,” she mused with a tinge of amusement to her words. Secret third evil husband. Quite literally, from Vyrdakks’ own words.

Her father’s bafflement had reached such a level his face went blank and his words short. “I did not know he had more than one..”

It laughed in delight at the reaction. “I did not either! We have both of them now.”

He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow and a smile pulling at his lips in shared confused euphoria. The expression pulled into a concerned and weary smile, as he gripped her shoulders gently. “Be careful. By God be careful.”

Oh, if only he knew. Actually, please no one tell him— she did not wish to give him a heart attack or any other such conniption. “I am doing my damndest,” was all it gave in a tiredly delighted response.

Reaching up, it gently broke his hold by grabbing his head and bringing it down to her own in a loving headbonk. After that, it raced off through the town to where it, if it focused in on certain sounds, could hear familiar voices. Her crew.

As they started coming into view, she raised a hand and waved; drawing the attention of Ulysses and Pepper, mainly, as those two approached her half-way.

“I’m back! I’m back!” it called as it approached.

“I’m assuming everything went okay with Rollo, yes?” Ulysses questioned, trailing beside her as it reentered the main grouping.

With unnaturally widened eyes, it was trying to condense everything within its mind into a ball of yarn so it wouldn’t get lost in the threads; but she gave a nod.

“Fantastic,” he affirmed.

“All that matters,” Pepper agreed with a small nod and twitch of their wings.

“Wait, so are they with the Navy or…?” Gaura’s face pulled into one of his most used expressions; a scrunched up face with an ever so slightly tilted head. “I’m confused now..”

Thing is, now he was dragging her into the halls of confusion with him, as she had no idea as to what ‘they’ he was referring to in particular. “What??” “I think the Church is a separate entity.” Ulysses extrapolated.

Oh what the hell.

“The Church is very much a separate entity,” she groused, looking at Gaura with slight annoyance. She wasn’t even annoyed at him— The mere implication that the church and state would be tied together implied a lot of things she did not stand for; even if the government was ‘good’, those two things never mixed well, and they shouldn’t be. “Well!?” he pointed at her, “Well, why were you there?! At the beginning, why..? Why were you there..?”

This was because of the voyage at the start of their unwitting campaign? “Because the Government has to work with the Church,” she explained, unnecessarily sharp due to her annoyance, “because if they didn’t the Church would be its own separate thing entirely.”

“Ohh,” he exhaled, eyes growing bright with understanding, and then nodded at her with a goofy smile as he understood.

It could not help but tack on; “And the Church is very powerful and that scares the Government!”

“The Church also wanted a negotiator there to make sure that you didn’t murder everyone,” Kallstrom added, and it finally noticed that the way he’d angled the hood made it extraordinarily difficult to see him aside from his glowing eyes. “That too.”

Gaura looked away in immediately distressed shame. Ah. It didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but it was a simple fact of what had happened.

“And you know what?” Ulysses chimed, clapping his hands together, “It did in fact seem to work so it turned out very well, Eno.”

“In my defense—” Gaura clamored, “my orders were to. Uhm. I think the word was—”

“Eradicate.” Kallstrom filled in for him, deadpan.

“—Yeah, that word was thrown around a couple of times.”

Pepper patted Gaura on the shoulder with a sympathetically amused expression. At least the mothkin didn’t seem to hold a grudge against the former naval admiral.

The fact that there were two conflicting orders of interest was exactly why the government and church should stay separate; they actually held each other accountable when the chips were down. And when the government’s chips were down (the Navy going to possibly kill an entire island’s worth of civilians) the Church threw a curveball (a blood cleric who didn’t use her studied powers next to at all).

And people wondered why she didn’t trust political bureaucracy whatsoever.

“Yeaahh.”

Actually. It squinted in thought. Speaking of politics and ‘eradication’ orders—

“Oh! Yeah, hold on,” Gaura took out his Nassau bandana, looked at it, looked at Kallstrom— and then tore it in half with a rip through the woven cloth like paper, tied half of it onto his own arm, before handing the other half to Kallstrom.

“You just desecrated it,” came his slightly horrified voice, “You just— you took the— I– I could’ve gotten my own.” Pepper had started giggling, and as Kallstrom’s horror became louder, there was cackling.

“Well, no— here,” and he gently waved it, “I already tore it off.”

“O-okay!” Kallstrom agreed, sounding more frazzled by the second, taking the torn cloth and tying it quickly around his arm like a tourniquet.

“There we go, now everything’s fine!”

To be fair to Gaura, as he tied on his own piece and offered it to Kallstrom, the move had definitely gotten a few stares of startled surprise, distant approval, and sheer bafflement at the presumed desecration before the split between two of their number.

“Empty Night,” Ulysses groaned, his eyes wide but a small smile pulling at fanged lips, “he’s so stupid.”

There was quite literally no defense from that pure and simple fact; Gaura was stupid in one of the best ways possible. “He’s incredibly stupid, but he’s well meaning.”

“He’s our stupid.” Pepper agreed fondly.

“Pure of heart, dumb of ass,” Ulysses chuckled, hand covering his toothy smile to hide what they were talking about; and none too soon.

The poor triton’s fins twitched and he turned his gaze from Kallstrom to their small whispering gaggle. “Hey– wh- What are you guys talking about over there?”

“Nothing,” she sang in unison with Ulysses’ frantic repetition of the word.

“Nothing!” Pepper pronounced, and started gesturing everyone to follow them. “Nevermind, let’s go!”

“Time to talk to Lockwell,” she sang cheerfully, ignoring the dread. This was either going to go great or it was going to go rather horribly. Time to make sure things went at least decently towards the middle of the two.

Vyrdakks held up an arm as they all advanced and clicked a small device. “That is one delay.”

“How long– How many times can you do that before, like, they– can they stop the remote from working?” Gaura blathered, his fins going wide as his face scrunched in concern.

“I don’t know,” Vyrdakks admitted.

“Let’s not test it,” Pepper chimed, with both herself and Ulysses echoing it and ushering them all forward.

“I don’t know guys,” Gaura moaned, his ear fins flitting out, then pinned, and then out again, “I’m really worried about this lazer thing.”

“Let’s talk to Lockwell then,” she pointed out, “Quickly!”

“Okay,” he fretted. How he could do that with a monosyllabic answer was honestly quite impressive.

What started as a rather fast paced walk— a jog already for those with shooter strides— quickly morphed into a near full-tilt sprint towards the town hall as they all rushed to get this done as quickly as possible.

As they approached, it heard him well before it spotted him; Lockwell was shouting orders at the entrance slash porch of the town hall, handing out blankets and bundles of supplies. But the second he came into view for everyone else, both Ulysses and Pepper started waving as they hustled; flagging him down.

The pirate lord turned his head at the movement— face turned quizzical before freezing in every movement he’d been doing. As he started moving again, he set down the bundles he was holding— and the methodical way he was moving was giving Eno the niggling premonition of what he was about to do—and promptly vaulted over a table to charge straight for them.

All of them stopped. Ulysses started chanting God’s name, Gaura actively chose the fight or flight option of ‘freeze’, while Pepper was the first to say something fully coherent, and it was simply “Oh, we’re gonna get murdered!”

“A year!!!” came a now familiarly howled mantra, from a rapidly approaching dragonborn the size of a small horse thundering their way, “A year upon my ship!!

“In our defense!” Ulysses blurted, “Wait wait wait, in our defense, we can explain!”

“Kallstrom, we’re gonna die.” Alright that was enough yelling from everyone; one more yell to get the people in order.

Stepping to the forefront of the group, it spread its wings to its full width– feathers angled in a way that jutted out like defensive spears as it yelled at the charging dragon. “Hold on!”

Lockwell skidded to a full stop in front of her, smoke billowing from his mouth and nostrils in pure agitation at the sight of them. “I sent ye off! Told ya that ye could do it! Believed in ye! Then Cass leaves! I don’t see him! What ‘appened!?!”

“We do have Cass!” Pepper pleaded softly, their anguish quiet at the mention of their lover.

Oh melimelum. He’ll be alright..

“Oh speaking of, we do have Cass!” Ulysses jumped in, seizing the opportunity to try his hand at calming Lockwell’s fury, “Uh, he’s in a coma though.” “What?!”

It spun its head towards Ulysses in horror. Good God above, Ulysses, that was not how you approached a father on how his child was doing!!!

And just like that, it was back into chaos.

The next few seconds were absolutely everyone trying to get a word in edgewise to either explain the series of events that led them here, attempt to comfort Lockwell, or the dragonborn himself spitting in confused fury at the lot of them. They were quite literally never going to get any sort of explanation done like this.

“EVERYONE!” it hollered, silencing them with the force of her call; but now that left everyone looking at her, so it pressed onwards, “Everyone! One thing at a time.”

“From your perspective, we were gone for a year. For us, we were only where we needed to be for two days to fetch—” it adjusted its wing to completely reveal a triton with his many eyes, “—Davy Jones.” “Mhm! Yeah!” Gaura chimed in, eager to back her up.

At the movement of her wing, it watched Lockwell’s face shift from a latent fury to a blank shock.

She looked at the two men staring at each other, near blankly with how much emotion they were clearly going through, and made the executive decision to attempt to reveal the second reveal, which could result in something far more volatile.

It hoped that wouldn’t be the way it’d go.

“And when we got out,” it started, “a very helpful and friendly face got us back where we needed to be.”

After revealing the eliksni captain, she started to fold her wings closer to a socially acceptable spread. Vyrdakks wasn’t nearly as partial to being revealed, and stuck close to Eno– nearly hiding behind her feathers, but he was seen; she watched Lockwell clock him.

“Cass is on board The Red Dragon,” she continued to explain, watching the dragonborn absorb all the information, “he is alive, but he is in a coma.”

Lockwell took a deep breath; no more smoke poured out of his mouth.

And then Davy Jones stepped forward.

“I know what you’re going to say, Lockwell,” he started softly. “How could I have done this.. Abandoned you, to raise our son alone.”

“But I thought I could fix it, I do. I thought I could. Truly,” all of his eyes were fixed on Lockwell, but his hair was starting to float, “I– I thought I could get it under control and–”

Lockwell stepped forward, approaching silently.

“—Oh come on, Jack, please!” he begged, starting to get visibly distraught as his hair floated in earnest, “Don’t just stand there silent! Shout at me, scream at me— say something!”

But Lockwell said nothing. He only stopped when he was directly in front of the legend of the seas, and Jack Bellam gently cupped his husband’s face.

“You’re just as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

And they embraced. Sixteen years worth of longing compressed into a hug sorely needed.

It gently heaved a silent sigh of relief. Their job was successful; the two they set out to reunite had been pieced back together. It didn’t move anything other than its head as it turned to look at Vyrdakks; hiding, but looking at the other two men with a longing unhidden.

“Uhm,” Gaura quietly cut in, “This may be a bad time, but we are about to explode.”

“Oh yes, there’s that too,” Ulysses audibly clicked back into the reality behind them.

Lockwell blinked up from his bubble, coming back to himself, and curtly shook his head in an attempt to bring himself back. “Okay. I’m alive. My husband is alive, I’m happy.”

“Great, super, cool tender moment; we have something super really important to tell you,” Gaura prompted, tail lashing in fearful agitation.

He looked wearily wary. “That being?”

“Okay,” Ulysses began, “So. Sol.”

“Aye?”

“Is on Vyrdakks’ ship. Uh.”

Before Ulysses could continue, Lockwell held up a hand, and then pointed directed at the eliksni partially hidden. “Why’re you here.”

“He said he was sorry,” Gaura woefully tried to protect the captain.

“Let Vyrdakks speak,” Pepper chided, gently tugging Gaura on his arm.

Vyrdakks looked at the rest of them anxiously before sliding out from behind Eno, caution in his movements, and there was a melancholy heavy in his voice as he began. “I.. cannot claim the same.. reverence as Davy. But, I have worked to be better, as you told me to.”

“We.. Th- The House of Gold is better now,” he sounded so quietly happy for his House, it was a little difficult not to share it. “We are thriving.”

“Jack—”

“It’s Lockwell to you.”

The firm shutdown had Eno nearly bristle in protectiveness. That had been plainly uncalled for; The Kell was already anxious. There was no reason to shove him further down. However; this was its opinion based on a Vyrdakks who had spent 16 years working to improve himself— not the one that lingered in Lockwell’s memory. She acknowledged it had absolutely no claim whatsoever in this game, and firmly stood back.

But if either of them started to attack Vyrdakks she was ready to pull him back behind her; there was no way it was letting him get physically hurt here.

Vyrdakks paused only briefly, before bending his head in submission as much as acknowledgement. “..Lockwell. Things are better now. We have not killed in years.”

Its heart hurt for him. It ached in sympathy that made her claws twitch beneath her sleeves in need to give him a hug. But by Vyrdakks’ own words, they were on a timer. It reached out and gently tapped him on his carapace. He turned his head minutely down in her direction, his eyes questioning the interruption.

“But we do have a betrayer on your hands,” and then she blinked. No, it most definitely wasn’t his fault for Misirak’s decision at the moment. Backtrack. “Or, our hands. All of our hands.”

“A lot of hands,” Pepper breathed in distress, causing Vyrdakks to look even further down. “So many hands,” she confirmed.

“Too many hands,” Ulysses grimaced.

Eno could swear in the slight distance it could hear someone say ‘I have hands.’

Lockwell took the moment to look away from the lot of them and back to Davy Jones. Davy smiled and gave Lockwell a look. No, not just a look, that was a ‘intertwined lives’ Look. Oh, a decision was being made here. Lockwell sighed at the mute conversation, and turned to eye Vyrdakks.

“Alright ya big roach, come over here.”

Vyrdakks’ posture straightened to his full height for only a brief second, before a lot less calmly than either legend, he leapt for both men in sheer excitement; gripping them in a giant embrace where Eno (were she a betting person) would put money on the sound of bones popping from the sheer force of confined love in his arms.

Hoh, thank God.

It briefly let the instinctive need to press its claws over its heart in relief before rubbing her chest and shaking herself out.

“Good lord,” Pepper quietly agreed beside her.

“Admittedly, Jack, we have a problem,” Vyrdakks timidly croaked.

“What now?” Lockwell asked, his nose plates bunched at the larger man. (Which was incredibly funny, considering the shortest amongst the three was Davy Jones.)

The eliksni Kell seemed to shrink every word he sadly squeaked. “My first mate betrayed me and is pointing a laser at Nassau.”

The dragonborn looked at the shrinking man. “Okay.”

Oh, the poor dear.

“See we would–?” Ulysses started and then backed up again, starting over; “See, the original plan was that if anything fishy was going on then Soleil would blow up the ship, but there is apparently a whole lot of civilians on board so that’s—”

It felt the need to shake Ulysses until he started making bell sounds. “—Out of the question.”

“I didn’t even know that was part of the plan,” Gaura blinked, looking at Ulysses and then the rest of them.

Neither had she.

It put its face in its hands. Ulysses. What the absolute fuck.

“The entire House is—” Vyrdakks started, audibly startled and horrified by the admission, “I was very clear that the entire House was on the ship. I don’t know why you even considered blowing it up.”

Gaura sounded similar to Vyrdakks in tone. “I didn’t even think that was an option.”

“Well,” Ulysses defended, “we were running purely off vibes, if we’re being honest.”

Ulysses, why were you absolutely dead set on making every situation you walked into worse today? Good God in heaven.

“The vibes were pretty off,” Gaura conceded.

“I don’t even know what’s happening,” Pepper halfway whined, “I was out for an entire day.”

“We’re fucked is what’s happening Pepper.”

“Well fuck all this!”

“Uhhhg okay,” it dragged its face out of its claws, looking back up at Vyrdakks, “okay. How do we dismantle the laser. How do we do that?”

He tilted his head in refocused consideration. “Disable the hands.”

“The hands?” Ulysses questioned, his eyebrows raising into his hairline.

Lockwell looked at Vyrdakks with a similarly disgruntled confusion. “What do you mean the hands??”

Vyrdakks gestured rather frantically as he creaked in distress. “Let me explain, ple a s e.”

“What do you mean disable the hands?” Ulysses asked again, gesturing for the man to continue.

“We may have used e-evIL!” he emphasized, pointing at Lockwell before anything could be said, “evil spellcaster hands into a lightning bolt. Launcher.”

Oh good heavens, Vyrdakks. Okay. It had many questions. None important enough to actually ask at the current second in time. Its fondness grew.

“You—!?” Ulysses looked somewhere between horrified and impressed, “Okay! So there’s just? Disembodied wizard hands? To power a cannon in your ship?”

“They reflect off of mirrors,” Vyrdakks explained, sounding rather distraught, “and it..”

“If we destroy the mirrors, will that work?” she prodded, ignoring the looks of either horror or sheer bafflement directed at the captain and trying to get to the root of the issue. “Or do we have to disable the hands themselves?”

“Disable the hands,” he confirmed, “if you disable the mirrors they will just launch into the open hull and destroy the ship.”

“Oh-kay!” she cheered, startled by the prospect of accidentally destroying the ship, “Then yes. Go for the hands.”

“Okay! Yes!” Ulyses frantically agreed, “Totally just disable the hands!”

“We just gotta break some hands,” Gaura shrugged, grimacing politely, “how hard could it be?”

Pepper put their head in their hands.

“Dismount them or break the spell..?” Vyrdakks suggested.

“Ss– dispel magic, work? Maybe?” she muttered in thought. That was going to be quite a few castings of that spell, if so; depending on the amount of hands as well. It could probably do it, if she put a bit more energy into it.

“I don’t think you have enough energy to dispel that amount of magic,” Ulysses shook his head, brow furrowing at the idea.

Its mind was stubborn; it could probably still do it..

“The entire ship is made of magic as well,” Vyrdakks added nervously, “you would cause many issues.”

Well that shut down the idea effective immediately; she wasn’t risking the elxnis’ lives to try and dispel magic on hand. If they really wanted to remove the hands from the equation, they could just take them off the ship.

“I mean I can go in the room and do the thing where I get really big and just start breaking stuff,” Gaura shrugged, “Might be tech.”

Everyone stared at him, as if he had not heard that if he broke the wrong thing, the ship would get shot with many lightning bolts through the hull and sink the damn thing.

“You know,” Vyrdakks sighed, looking at Gaura, “at this point. Whatever works.”

“As long as the hands are gone,” Pepper sharply dictated, “our problem is gone.”

“And my people are alive,” Vyrdakks stressed; after Ulysses brought up his apparent plan to blow up his House, the eliksni was justifiably insistent on that point to the vampire.

“We are not going to hurt your people,” it emphasized, and then looked at Ulysses pointedly.

He looked up at her with innocent caution and then raised a single finger; “Except for maybe the first mate.”

It conceded to that point with a nod. Except maybe the first mate.

“I will flay him myself,” Vyrdakks asserted with a slight growl.

“Okay,” Ulysses nodded, “Sounds good.”

And after that declaration, Lockwell, Davy Jones, and Vyrdakks all looked at each other, took a deep breath and she watched three very different racial expressions of severe concentration take hold as they nodded to one another.

Davy Jones split off first, bolting off into the distance; on his way somewhere to get shit done.

Lockwell meanwhile turned and pointed at their triton. “Gaura, you still a navyman?”

“Uh, no,” he responded, tiredness sweeping across his face; a reminder of this morning no doubt. “Changed my mind.”

“What’s the cloaked one?”

Oh gods.

“Oh–? Ohhh, the cloaked one? That’s Kallstrom.”

It briefly closed its eyes and prayed quietly for both patience and mercy towards everyone on the crew.

When it opened its eyes again, Lockwell had apparently had enough random curveballs thrown his way today that he didn’t even blink at the name. “He still a navyman too?”

“No,” he shook his head again, “I talked him out of it.”

Eno gave a thumbs up to Lockwell as he looked over them all for confirmation. Please don’t make her go through this morning part two, electric boogaloo.

She also saw Kallstrom give an extraordinarily shaky thumbs up; he clearly did not wish to go through this morning, part two, either.

“It’s okay he’s harmless!” Gaura assured, gesturing to his friend’s arm, “Look! He has the bandana, see?”

Lockwell peered at Kallstrom’s arm as Gaura pleaded. “Did you rip a bandana in half and give him it?”

“I gave him half of mine,” Gaura explained, tail swishing softly.

Gaura Arzorath, the triton you are.

“Honestly?” Lockwell looked at the bandana, the cloaked tiefling, and the adamant Knight, “That’s alright.”

“Good work lads!” he gestured grandly, “Welcome to Nassau. You’re pirates now, so if your da comes back again I expect ya t’be attackin’ him full force.”

“O-kay,” came the deeply dejected reply.

Gaura Arzorath, please stop making me wish to give you a hug every three seconds, it’d be beneficial to the greater productivity of my brain.

“Gaura?”

“Yeah?” he perked up.

“Whatever ya need, you’ll have us by yer side.”

“Auh,” Gaura blinked with a soft expression, and fins flat against his head, “thanks, man.”

“Alright,” Lockwell prompted, looking back at the general group, “the lot o’ ya. We need t’fix this. Three of y’are going to help where you can here.”

“Vyrdakks,” Lockwell continued, “from what I remember has a teleportation circle t’get onto his ship.”

“Oh cool,” Gaura blinked– his fins fanning out slightly as Ulysses made a small noise of interest.

Vyrdakks nodded to the bunch of them and pulled out a small metal stone, shiny in the dawn's light.

Gaura raised his hand, eager to get started immediately. “I call dibs on fighting on the ship!”

“The lot of you’ll be fightin’ on th’ ship,” Lockwell rebutted, “we need to prepare the defenses in case ya fail!”

“Defense Gaura, defenses,” she confirmed with amusement.

“That’s a great idea, but I’m not gonna fail,” the triton countered with absolute confidence, expression turning smug.

“You forget that there are a lot of people on that ship, Gaura,” Ulysses pointed out.

“I can kill a lot of people very q—” and then he realized with widened eyes, and backpedaled, “I can disable a lot of people very quickly.”

“Let’s try not to do th— Oh God, you’re making me sound like Eno.”

It patted Ulysses on the shoulder in amusement. “Welcome to my world.”

He looked mortified. “Oh, don’t do that.”

“My world.”

Gaura put his hands on his hips and looked rather smug; though the boyish look in his eyes overall made the image more charming than threatening. It could only internally plead that Gaura would in fact stick with the ‘disabling’.

“I’m very good at fighting.”

“Okay,” she rubbed one of her temples, “I will stay here and work with the defense; who are the two that will stay with me?”

“Uh,” Pepper started, a small grimace on their face as they started forward towards her.

Eno raised an eye in concerned query; if this was an attempt to remove themself because they didn’t think themself capable, the mothkin was incorrect. “You are quite offensively capable, Pepper.”

“I’m glad you think that,” Pepper huffed with a small smile, but continued looking distressed nonetheless.

She missed something, and that occurred to her far later than it should have. And that something was someone they undoubtedly would want to stay back and look after.

“Pepper,” Lockwell murmured, catching her misstep, “it may be best if you stayed here with Cass.”

“That’s what I was worried about,” they fretted, their antennae twitching in concern.

Of course. “Alright,” it replied, “then you’ll stay here with Cass.”

“He loves ya lass,” Lockwell started, clearly having a speech prepared.

“Oh, I know,” they laughed, distress twisting to wry amusement.

“Ah,” Lockwell relaxed, looking pleased, “he finally grew a pair and confessed t’ya, thank God.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Pepper nodded in vehement agreement.

“My son was a coward,” he muttered in affection, “Alright! Break! Get yer shit done!”

And then the dragonborn pivoted on clawed heel, tail twisting to keep him stable, as he booked it off in the direction of the forge. “Anyone defendin’, follow me!”

Eno startled at the call but followed the sprinting dragonborn with little to no trouble; it was rather similar to chasing after Rovena.

Except Rovena could fly if claw wanted to try and escape her.

Hustling to a stop by the entrance he spun on his tail to look at her. Eyes sharp in the glow of the fire within the forge. “Yer th’only one?”

“Aside from Pepper, and they have to run the opposite direction,” she confirmed, brushing itself off, “Everyone’s more focused on. The laser.” Or at least that was Gaura’s main concern. “And Soleil, still on the ship.”

Lockwell shook his head in consternation. “What’s th’ girl even doin’ on his ship in the first damned place..?”

“Swapped places so Kallstrom wouldn’t get stabbed due to fucking up socially, a revenge plot, or otherwise be recruited into hare-brained murder schemes like the one Misirak apparently brewed.”

He blinked. “Oh. Aye, that sounds like her. Though, I didnae expect fer her to do it for..”

The man trailed off with a raised eyebridge and a small lash of his tail. “The girl’s certainly got a specific taste.”

It whistled a quiet sound of amusement. Oh, okay so he picked it up through mere action; that was at least a little funny.

He shook his head and pointed off to the town and surrounding areas. “What I need from ya, lass, is to go do what a cleric does best; healin’.”

It raised one of its eyes in question; “That all?”

“Fer now? Aye,” he nodded, “if yer needed on the offense, you’re gonna want anyone nearby t’be at peak condition in this environment.” It crinkled its eyes at that. “Can’t argue with that,” and it turned and started her way back to the general populace.

It wasn’t too long into making small rounds, having bothered Xiomara for supplies after catching her briefly, before the smell of burning stones— a very difficult smell to describe on the best of days besides sharp and hot— reached her senses as she made her way around; the walls of Nassau glowing slightly, as she realized that it was being reinforced by magma.

So that’s what Lockwell was doing.

The fire’s glow within the stones looked like runes almost, and it made her blink afterimages of this morning from her head. It was.. Eventful. It wasn’t particularly enthused about the idea of unpacking that, right this second, but it needed to be addressed internally, and what better moment was it going to get?

As she healed people, with blankets, food, and resetting some bones, she tentatively touched this morning’s events, where it really all began with the stars.

(The stars had stared at them all. Told them of their misdeed in the nature of their world.

At least, the severe chastisement from literal celestial bodies had her severe headache explained and promptly chased away; now it slept lightly in the crows’ nest.

Then there was a scream, next an explosion that rocked the air; to say it knocked her out of sleep was an understatement worthy of award. She all but lept out of the crow’s nest in preparation for a fight— hand on her hammer as soon as she touched the planks below.

But there was no one fighting on the deck.

Aside from Vyrdakks, whom had not moved an inch from where he lay peacefully asleep. Part of the reason why she had slept out here was to make sure nothing happened to him—

For she did not trust Davy Jones.

But nor was there anything out on the water— apart from The Glittering Hoard sailing parallel to them as a show of faith in their exchanges— that could be attacking them.

The commotion itself coming from below decks was rather loud however, which had her hand retract from the hammer as she hustled down. What had happened?

The clamor grew to increasing volume, and what was simply shouting to most people, was near deafening to her own ears. A familiar tiefling Navy Admiral with his hair on fire, the smell of smoke, blood, along with burning cloth, and a vampiric wood elf on the ground wrapped around each other, punching and shouting. Kallstrom and Ulysses were locked in combat with one another, while herself and Gaura Arzorath came to a sudden standstill in the hallway watching them in confusion.

“Oh man.”

“What in the Heavens??”

She looked at Gaura who in reply had turned his head and looked at her. “What in the Heavens happened here? What–?”

“I think we should do something,” Gaura replied with wide eyes– head with fins flared snapping between her and the two rolling on the ground.

“Yeah? You think?!?”

“Ulysses tried to bleed me out!” Kallstrom howled.

“I’m doing what needs to be done!” Ulysses yelled.

Eno startled briefly but then started for the conflict; wrapping both arms around the vampire, beginning to drag Ulysses away from his lock on Kallstrom, while Gaura rushed beside her and then grappled Kallstrom under his arms to pull him in the opposite direction away from Ulysses.

Gaura had managed to succeed with one arm as the cleric grappled with the struggling vampire, but Kallstrom’s other arm was still wrapped around Ulysses’ throat in an attempt to strangle him, then Gaura’s teeth were bared and gritted, and Kallstrom was summarily ripped away from Ulysses with fighter’s determination.

“The fucking vampire tried to bleed me!” he screamed, kicking and pulling away from Gaura’s firm restraint with teeth gnashing. “He tried to kill me, I was right!”

“Hang on, like we’ll deal with that in a second, dude,” Gaura coaxed, “You're bleeding, relax.”

“I’ll deal with him now! Let me go, let me go!!”

“Hang o– Jus— No, shut up.”

A horrifying picture was beginning to form in her head of the events that had just taken place as she gripped the vampire in her arms even tighter. “Ulysses,” she whispered, “what in heaven's name.”

The man in her arms stopped his thrashing for only but a moment. “...He’s going to hurt all of us.”

“Knew I didn’t like that guy,” Gaura muttered, grip tightening on Kallstrom protectively instead of just as a restraining maneuver as his fins pulled back.

“He’s going to hurt Sol,” Ulysses heaved, voice cracking as he tugged, “he’s going to hurt you, he’s going to hurt Pepper!!”

Kallstrom’s eyes blazed dangerously as he continued to pull against Gaura, a hysterical manic grin pulling at his face as Ulysses yelled. “It seems like you’re doing a awful good job of hurting them right now, you fucking leech!”

“No—” he spat, teeth gnashing sparks and shaking his hair that sizzled and crackled with the movement, “that’s not even a good enough insult for the stereotypical vampire— you’re a fucking bat!”

“Euh— Okay,” Gaura winced, beginning to back step and crab-walk towards the entrance of Kallstrom’s room, “Alright, buddy, let’s talk about this in here, okay?”

“No,” Kallstrom snapped, still pulling fiercely— perhaps even stronger now that he was being taken away from his target, “No, we need to discuss this here, I will not be having an attempt! On my life!”

As Kallstrom was partially pulled, partially carried away, Ulysses also began to tug harder at her arms to get at the tiefling again— or more accurately; to finish what he started.

Her blood chilled.

“Well,” Gaura’s voice echoed and muffled in turn as its own grip was tightened, “talk to me first and then we can deal with it.”

‘One aggressor being dealt with.’

And then its eyes fell on Ulysses.

‘Your turn.’

She hefted Ulysses up once and for all, while completely trapping him in one of her arms with no leverage to escape, removing his feet from the ground while cinching his arms to his sides; she stormed out of the sleeping quarters, the living space, and onto the top deck.

“Let me settle this, Eno.” Ulysses growled, twisting and turning to get back downstairs.

“No.”

With the short enunciated click of her beak, she spread her wings and launched into the air with a few brief flaps, letting the air drag and drop her back, before then catching herself— lingering near the ship’s wake.

“Put me down!” he yelled, now pulling himself to be clutching tighter to her.

“You want to get dropped into the ocean?”

Ulysses' stiffness grew closer to rigor mortis as he stayed silent in response.

“That’s what I thought.”

There was a moment in time where she just had to scramble in her own mind to coherently link things together. Gaura, herself, and Ulysses talked to Vyrdakks; he almost unraveled due to them figuring out Calypso’s removal from the greater tangle as a whole. The stars themselves admonished them harshly, and then everything was ok. Vyrdakks had suggested sleep as the three of them had a mini-breakdown over their shared event. It had gone to sleep in the crows’ nest. During the brief time it had been asleep, Ulysses attacked Kallstrom. Ulysses almost killed Kallstrom, apparently and intended to finish the job he’d left undone.

So she asked the only question she could think of in that moment. “What, in God’s name, were you doing, Ulysses?!?”

“I am keeping everyone safe!”

“From what!?”

“Him!!” he cried.“Kallstrom?!” it responded with incredulity.

“Yes!!”

“What has Kallstrom done?” Aside from being eccentrically manic? Being as paranoid, if not more so, than the vampire in its arms that very second? “Right now— What has he done on this ship that warrants an attack on his life? What has he done?”

“First of all he’s plotting to kill Davy Jones!?! Next, he’ll turn around and try to kill all of us!!”

It would be a wonder if all of them combined could take on a man whose mythos include taking down gods, and even if they did— with Davy Jones’ own book, to boot— the consequences dealt by the ones still living would be innumerable. “Okay, do you think he’s going to succeed against Davy Jones?”

Or more accurately, deal with the consequences of being a Navalman on Nassau that killed the de facto leader’s husband and survive?

“That’s not the point!!” he lamented.

‘You brought the damn point up, you fucking nitwit!’

“First of all; No, it is the point, because you brought it— what you were doing wou—” then she caught a gleam of a blade within a death grip near her breast and all other sprints of thought exploded upon impact, “what are you holding?!”

The magic radiating from the damn thing was great enough that it was a wonder that she didn’t recognize its presence around her immediately, especially considering the blood and ash dulling the gleam on the unfamiliar blade marking it as Ulysses’ weapon of choice. But upon second glance— the runes not quite bright— from the steadily ticking upwards feeling resonating quietly within the main source of power; it wasn’t even at full power yet.

That thing was meant to obliterate.

“Tis none of your business,” Ulysses groaned, oblivious to her fear.

‘I can and would drop you right this fucking instant, you kuttungajuk avângak tiguak of a kuvigâk, if not for the fact Sol would have my feathers and wings for a coat for leaving her best friend lost in the middle of the fucking ocean.’

“It is all of my business, Ulysses!” it despaired, and as if in response, its voice started gaining the screech of her baser tongue, “You decided to make it my business when you tried to stab, one of our crewmates!!!”

“He is not a part of my crew.”

“He’s a part of mine!” it hissed loudly, claws twitching violently, “And guess what!? You are too!”

“Put me down!” He repeated, wriggling once again. “Put me back on the ship, now.”

“No– not until you explain, in full, what you think you are doing.” Nothing had been explained except for the fact that Ulysses simply intended to kill someone she cared about. And even then that was simply absorbed by the blatant evidence. And not to mention— “You are violating guest right— of all things to violate!”

Guests' rights under hospitality applied to everywhere and to everyone. There was no exception. Like parlay, it was a yield, and it relied on everyone’s willingness to keep the peace and diplomacy for it to work.

Not to mention; with how many Greek gods they had been dealing with in the past few months? It was a genuine wonder that the lightning-wielder himself, a god of hospitality, had not simply materialized to zap Ulysses where he stood for the violation, as he had done on multiple occasions within the tales.

“I am keeping us safe,” he spat, teeth bared like a feral cat despite the anguish in his voice, “he’s going to stab us all in the back!”

“So you plan to do it first?!”

“Yes! If that’s what it takes to keep us all safe!? Of course it is!”

‘I think I’ll stab you myself at this rate.’

“All that does is beget enemies, Ulysses! You gain more enemies the more you try to lash out in preemptive strike!

Ulysses stared up at it with pervasive fury and despair in his eyes and pursed his lips into a thin line. She stared back at him in equal challenge as the silence grew longer and longer, and the tension thickened. He had nothing to rejoin to that, because he knew it was right.

It let him stew as it turned its gaze back upwards, making sure her energy had not been pushed into its wings, pushing them both forward and close to crashing into the ship, or that they had deviated off course and were too far from the ship.

Neither were the case, but it needed to collect its own thoughts on the matter either way so it did not look back to the vampire just yet.

It quietly inhaled deeply in fortification.

It had just been scared to the high hells and to the deepest reaches of heavens.

The righteous screeching fury at the injustice of attacking a man in his bed roiling threateningly in its chest was not to be let out, and she was keeping it that way, damn it. The equally attention seeking anxiety gripping her bones in a strong hold rattled endlessly about the fact Desmond almost died.

It clawed at her brain like a small child seeking a safe place to hide; Could it trust Ulysses to not hurt the others he disagreed with? Like Gaura or Abaddon?

Could she acquire his word on that?

Could it even believe that claim?

Believing what someone told her, with apt consideration to the surroundings and their reputation, was what had gotten her so far in the first place. If she did not do it growing up, she would not have been trusted enough to gain a spot in the Blood sect of the Church. If it had not done it with Silver, with the Nassauean people; that fight might not have turned out so well. Word was everything, just as much as actions.

Nearly especially on the sea with sailors and their suspicions (which she now had to claim herself amongst); On the sea all you had was your reputation, actions and word. And if your reputation was that you violated your word, your actions and voice meant nothing.

A fast-tracked lane to have no friends and very few allies, and those that would do so would expect any wrong move as a betrayal and end in him hurt; proving a self-feeding prophecy that did not need to happen at all.

That was not what it wanted for her friend.

“You do not want everyone on this ship as an enemy, Ulysses. Do you—” she paused, wondering if she should even bring up the beholder in the room, and then pushed forward gently; “...do you want Sol as an enemy?”

Not quite her final gambit, but knowing him, it was one of the better things to use and bring him to see reason. “Cause this will gain her as an enemy..”

“...Sol is not on the ship right now,” he sulked childishly.

“Sol is the entire reason he is still on this ship!” She chided. “He cares about her! We all care about her!”

Ulysses fell once more into silence. The fact the sea elf was not on the ship to stop him from hurting Kallsrom was undoubtedly another reason as to why he was pulling this maneuver now, and not later. Was jealousy also a moving factor here? She couldn’t very well cross it out, considering the tiefling only seemed rather content when Gaura or Soleil was near, and Ulysses was always hovering near Sol.

‘If you did not try and make a move, Ulysses, that is your own damn fault; stop trying to kill a man who has her interests at heart.’

She sighed ever so quietly, pushing her thoughts away and using suasion for her next attempt. “Ulysses… I.. understand, that you do not trust Kallstrom..”

“And if I can hazard a guess,” she continued, sarcastically wry, “you don’t trust Abaddon either.”

The silence from Ulysses continued, the wind rustling their clothes being the only sound, along with The Red Dragon pushing through the sea.

“Is that true?” she questioned, already knowing the answer that awaited it.

“It is,” came the croaked reply.

There it was.

It wondered; was that why Ulysses volunteered to go fetch him on the island? And why her insistence of going in a pair was something he initially protested against?

Inhaling deeply, it pushed away what her response to finding Abaddon dead, again, would have been. On the ship, or on the island. It pushed away into a deep dark hole. But as she mentally pushed away the possibility, Ulysses seemed quick to assure her of something. “It was just going to be Kallstrom.”

“At least for right now,” he tacked on.

“For right no—” she spluttered in a quiet hysterical breath, “Ohh Heavens… Heavens above and below.”

Her claws twitched.

“Please, just put me down.”

Her voice was quite a bit shakier than it would have liked as it replied. “Are you going to try and stab them again?”

The damnable silence again.

“Then you better get comfortable, because we’re not going down.”

“Just put me down,” he whispered again, his voice shaking in the wind, “please.”

She closed her eyes as they flew for a moment or three. Then she adjusted the vampire so his face was pressed against where a collarbone would be, and both arms secured around him so he didn’t have to look at the sea.

Maybe it would soothe both of their shakes as well.

Continuing to fly for a while was otherwise rather peaceful. The stars, their only companions for the time they spent in the void of sky; the quietness of the air was only broken by the water being pushed through by gently creaking timbers, and the rustle of their clothes in the air pushed through silent wings. There wasn’t quite an actual wind blowing against or towards her; the air was actually rather still and she herself was doing most of the work, and that twigged the back of her mind. Something was off.

There was suddenly a noise to her left of wings taking to the skies— she instinctively churred a questioning greeting before she spotted who it was, and upon recognizing the palette, the questioning sound turned softly happy.

“Oh great,” Ulysses grumbled, shuffling tighter as if that would hide him any better.

“Good morning,” it greeted tiredly, but cheerfully.

“Going for a late night—or early morning, rather— flight, Eno and..?” Abaddon tilted his head in a clockwise motion before dipping hisself lower to peer at the vampire held close, “Ulysses, I didn’t know you could fly.”

She chuckled. “He can’t, or otherwise he’d be in the ocean by now.”

‘I could have dropped him, and had I been in the wrong mood, he would’ve been.’ Was left tactfully unsaid.

“I heard a ‘bang’,” Abaddon prompted as he came back to eye level, looking down at Ulysses and back to it in curiosity.

It blinked tiredly at him as his words processed. Was he playing dumb or was he genuinely asking? She was too tired to try and deal with the fallout of blatantly asking, soooo mind games it was.

“Mmm,” she hummed in disgruntled agreement, “So did we.”

“What happened?” he questioned liltingly.

“Ah, so you don’t know,” she murmured, answering her own question– thankfully within a sentence– and then also looked down at Ulysses. “Ulysses would like to talk or would you like me to, seeing as you wish to hide?”

The elf hissed. “I was attempting to deal with a pest.”

“Oh,” Abaddon grimaced in enlightened understanding, looking back to her for confirmation, “he tried to kill one of the Navymen, didn’t he?”

“Yep.”

The vampire-hunter looked back down at the vampire. “You’re a moron.”

“God knows they can’t do anything,” he continued, lamenting in disappointment before Ulysses could wipe the startled look off his face, “Hell, they could make fine allies if you get rid of the naval brainwashing. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Paranoia takes away the most logical person’s functions,” she clicked definitively.

“Seems less like paranoia and more like deluded fantasy to me,” he remarked, rolling his eyes at the idea.

“Mmm,” she squinted in thought for a small time, “Can they not be one and the same, here?”

There was a moment of consideration. “Similar at best,” he agreed with a nod of his head.

“I’m right here you know.”

“Youuuu—” she began, her thoughts all crowding to get out at once, as Abaddon’s and her own head snapped towards Ulysses; but thankfully, the vulture chimed loudly, “Yeah! You’re a fucking moron! You deserve to be talked about!”

“You decided to pull a stupid maneuver,” it finally tied together, “so get treated like an idiot for a little bit.”

“Quite honestly, I’m surprised this is the worst of your punishment,” he trilled, “you best hope Sol doesn’t hear about this.”

“That bridge will be crossed,” she inhaled, “when it comes to it.”

“Or burned,” he added, with a mirthful edge to his words.

It laughed an odd noise. Abaddon had a morbid sense of humor, and it was always entertaining if sometimes shocking; Partially, because the jokes usually landed true, and partly— in this case— because, knowing Sol for the little time she had; she would only burn a bridge if forced to by circumstances she had no say in.

That being mentioned, it was always a possibility; “Probably,” she agreed, if only to give Ulysses something to truly think about.

“Well, I’ll leave you.. To it!” He informed looking for all the world, quite done, and looking back to her charge with an amused air. “Seems like you have a lot to think about.. Ulysses.”

“Don’t talk down to me, I’m not a child.”

“You’re acting like one,” Abaddon heatedly snapped back; levity gone. “Don’t presume you can talk back because you think you’re in the right.”

“I never said I was in the right,” Ulysses frowned.

“Then why did you do it?”

“To keep yo— . .. ...To keep my crew safe— how many times do I have to fucking say that!?”

“Ad infinitum,” Abaddon clacked, “until you realize; you’re not.”

Keeping the crew safe… The move he had almost succeeded with had the near perfect unmitigable chance of ripping the entire crew apart. Gaura, because that was his best friend– no matter their arguments, would undoubtedly call for Ulysses’ head on a pike and would likely stop at next to nothing to avenge him. She would have to put the vampire in the brig, under lock and spell, for both everyone else’s safety as well as his own.

Soleil.. God, Soleil– put between a rock and a hard place as her own best friend committed the exact deed she was currently trying to protect Kallstrom from on the eliksni’s ship. She imagined the poor sorcerer would not take the failure of protecting two very important things to her well at all.

Pepper alone would be devastated enough for everyone— Gaura, Sol, Kallstrom, themself, and with what had just happened to Cass, it couldn’t foresee a very tame reaction to a betrayal from inside the house.

Its own reaction didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but oh she could foresee that shipwreck setting itself on fire the moment it hit the rocks; thank God it hadn’t.

“..That man is not a part of my crew,” Ulysses repeated.

“Why not be open to the possibility?” Abaddon asked, tilting his head up to the side; looking farther down in open curiosity, “It seems he’s more than willing to consider it, at least.”

“I’ve never met a good Navyman, ever, in my life.”

“You’ve met one and a half,” the vulture countered. “Seems to me you’re just as closed-minded as them, if that’s your train of thought.”

“An eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind, vampire,” he raised his eye in mimicry of an eyebrow. “One would think at this point you’d know.”

“Maybe you should apologize, bake him some cookies,” Abaddon snarked, but there was some genuinity in it, despite the tease.

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

“Well, either that, or see what happens..!” He goaded; the lightness of his voice belying the severity of the possible consequences should he, in fact, let everything play out.

“Either way, it's going to end bad unless you— the accuser, and the attacker— figure out your real priority.”

And with the silence from Ulysses, he gave a nod of satisfaction and peeled away back to the ship.

“Good night,” she chimed. Because it was far too early to actually start the day, even for those on military wake-ups.

He gave a wave up to her as he landed— up in the crows’ nest— and hunkered down from view.

“He is right, you know,” she began, a minute or two after he left, giving Ulyses a moment to process. “As the instigator, you will have to apologize.”

“Absolutely not! There’s no need for it!”

That made something in her bones recoil in vitriolic dislike. Oh absolutely not. She bent her neck and twisted her head so she was staring straight into Ulysses' eyes, upside down as he was.

“What makes you think you’re above apologizing to people.”

“I will apologize to people,” Ulysses quietly said, having shrunk a little bit in her arms at her tone, “but not him..! He doesn’t deserve it.”

Her disappointment in Ulysses’ words grew immeasurably, and she broadcasted it by slitting her eyes at him in distaste.

“No one deserves anything. That’s why we deserve everything. You come into this world and you have nothing. In life, you possess nothing. You own nothing. You are free. All you have is what you are, and what you give. You cannot greet the world with hands full of promises, it’s like trying to give a handshake to someone with a basket in your arms, you have to greet the people with empty ones so you can grasp each other in community.”

It knew for a fact she wasn’t explaining the idea of everyone’s equal deserving of opportunity clearly, and how no one deserves anything more than another, and that frustrated it greatly. She whistled a small, wavering unhappy whistle. “You cannot greet them with closed fists.”

“Violence begets violence.”

“Violence is what will keep us safe,” Ulysses argued, brow furrowing deeper, “That's what kept me safe for so long..!”

“Then maybe you need to learn something new..”

She let her pupils dilate again.

He shook his head at her, face teetering on the precipice of crying as he gave a laugh— an echo of one, at least, as the cracks in it let her see a dismayed man trying his damndest. “You are a foolish woman, Eno.”

“And I will continue to be one,” it replied. If she stopped, Enososin was dead.

“You can’t just— ! Be kind to everyone and expect for things to just work out perfectly fine!”“I don’t, actually.” Honestly, within her mind, everything was expected to go bad and wrong. “I don’t expect everything to work out because I am kind, but I expect it to help lean things in my favor. I have been kind.. to you. I have been kind to Abaddon. I have been kind to Pepper, I have been kind to Kallstrom— as much as he will allow me to,” she added wryly, “you do not see them try to strike me in the middle of the night.”

“Kindness is not an easy thing Ulysses—”

“I understand that!”

“No, you don’t actually,” she shook her head, “you seem to think that kindness can just be pulled from a wellspring or—”

“Kindness is what turned me into a vampire in the first place, Eno!!”

And as he said that he wriggled to give himself enough room, [which she allowed with a small relaxing of her arm; he had something to show] to pull up his sleeve and reveal numbers— wounds that weren’t allowed to heal properly nor with magic— carved deep into his arm.

84311.

Ah.

“Kindness is what had this happen to me, kindness is why my entire village was razed to the ground!”

“Kindness is not what did that..” she quietly disagreed, but knew there was a course to be run– his need to explain broke through the need to keep secrets.

“Kindness is what did that!” he cried, “‘Cause if I had not been kind, I never would have gotten her from that fae trap!”

He laughed, quietly and on the edge of hysteria. “I never would have helped her out, and I would have never…!”

He trailed off, the devastation clear in everything that man was; the free hand not ardently grasping the dagger was desperately clinging to her robes and feathers beneath.

‘Would never have become a vampire.’

“Ulysses, listen,” she murmured, a little more aware of the situation, “Kindness is not what destroyed your home; what destroyed your home was the cruelty of another person. A vampire, funnily enough, striking first, when you opened your hand.”

“Your kindness did not do that. Her cruelty did. You cannot hold yourself accountable for something you, yourself, did not plan.”

“You showed a kindness to someone who..” she tilted her head; a fae trap, huh? “Was stuck.”

“To someone who didn’t deserve it,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing to glowing slits.

“No,” she chided slowly, “no, no one deserves that either. It’s a gamble every time you show someone kindness. One I personally will always make, and you should too.”

“Because it is not a mistake to have cared about someone, it is not an error to have tried to help. People are going to embarrass themselves with mortal connections every day.” She tilted her head at him in amusement. “Like you just did. You have done so twice tonight, actually. And you are strong for it.”

“So again,” it repeated, “cruelty destroyed your home. You did not.”

The silence returned, swamping them both as the seasalt did. But eventually, there was a small gasp for breath.

“Please put me down..”

“Do you think your legs can handle that?” she quietly joked, making it obvious with her looking at the sea below them.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. Hold on,” she murmured and began to tilt to tack herself above the ship itself, having drifted a mite off course from being solely astern, to adding astarboard to the positioning.

“Actually,” he considered as they returned, “you know what, at this point, you might as well just let me go.”

She chuckled at the slight return of his attempts at humor. “Nope, I’m not dropping you into the ocean.”

“The rest of you will probably be better off,” he mused sing-songily.

“Nope!” it chirped, denying the suicide-ideation happily.

With another catch of air and a bit of interesting positioning, she once more landed on the boards of their lady. It had instead landed on the top deck, by the helm instead of the masts, just in case someone was still awake, or looking for a rematch.

She was optimistic, not stupid.

The ship creaked in a softly melancholy greeting as Eno placed Ulysses back on his feet, gently keeping a hand on his back as he once again steadied himself on stable flooring.

It gently reached out and patted the railing closest to her with its free hand, approaching closer to the helm itself as she petted the ship in returned affection. “Hello,” it quietly murmured.

The creaking in turn shifted in tune, groaning a questioning noise in a tone resembling a concerned inquiry.

“I am fine,” she lied with a small chuckle, “Ulysses.. Might need a few more minutes.”

An acknowledging squeak from the frame as she turned to find Ulysses shaking under her hand like a wet chihuahua with separation anxiety; still gripping the runed knife like a lifeline.

Well, there was only one thing to try and do right this second, aside from the obvious. So Eno slowly approached again, and cautiously pulled at the crossguard of the knife; no budge from the grip of death.

After that, it signed off getting the knife away as a lost cause. When he gave it up, he’d give it up. Instead, it just gently wrapped her wing around him, pressing only softly to give the opportunity to escape. It may not have been bothered by the cold, and maybe vampires weren’t affected by that either, but she hoped the comfort of it might lessen his stress.

After a few moments, standing with the man regaining his bearings, she felt a shift in the wind as much as she heard it. Magic in the air and she stiffened preemptively.

Walking from behind the main mast in a way that could only be explained by shadow-stepping, the many glowing eyes preceded Davy Jones as he appeared from mist, and she gently pulled Ulysses closer to her with no resistance.

“Well now,” he lilted, “how’d it go?”

Ulysses half-heartedly glared at the man. “It would have gone a hell of a lot better if they hadn’t stepped in.”

It could feel him shifting under her hold as he turned to speak up at her. “You should’ve just let me do it, Eno.”

“No,” she groused, her feathers slightly fluffed in defense as it continued to solely watch Davy Jones.

“For once, I agree,” Davy Jones mused, inspecting his claws before turning his many eyes towards them both. “This ship, and my country, are no place for Navymen. Never has been. Never will be.”

“Much as I admire your.. priestly kindness,” he disparaged, “and your willingness to accept others; you forgot one key detail.”

“That if you greet the world, openly,” he mock opened his arms, as if to give a hug, and then brought it in where a humanoid’s heart lay, with a foreboding claw motion. “You leave your ribs reaalll open.”

“So be it,” it clicked

His arms folded across his chest after his display. “Seems you haven’t been stabbed before.”

‘How ‘bout I stab you with my beak and take a few of your eyes in the process, sir.’

It rolled its shoulders in a mimicry of a shrug. “I don’t mind being stabbed.”

It stared him down. It lended a lot more credence to everyone’s calls of her being foolish, but if it had to fight Davy Jones himself about the safety of everyone on this ship, it would, so it stared him down, inviting him to take her up on that offer.

After all, a stabbing couldn’t be too different from the excruciation of a broken bone sticking from your skin.

He rolled his eyes at her. All of them. “According to the ship, as it turns out, doesn’t seem there are any Navymen left, actually.”

What. “What?” she whispered in quiet confusion.

“What?” Ulysses echoed, louder, with horror tinging the edges of the word.

Had something happened while they were flying? She knew Gaura had renounced his place amongst the Navy but Kallstrom—

He shrugged. “She can’t hear any badges. Though, one dipped off the edge of the railing.. about an hour ago?”

Oh.

That was a rather neat ability for their Lady to actually be able to hear the badges, she would admit, but..

He knew.

“I wonder whose it was?” He wondered aloud, staring directly at them with his head tilted.

He knew, and he had encouraged Ulysses to kill Kallstrom anyways.

Ulysses breath quickened, huffing and then growing louder into chuckles and descended into hysterical mad laughter. She gently caught him before he completely crumpled to the floor, and lowered herself slowly down with him, holding him close as he let all the frayed rope tangled in his head snap.

“Still would’ve been good if you did it though,” he offered over Ulysses’ tearful, broken laughter.

“No,” she denied, “No, it wouldn’t have.”

“He is ruthless,” Jones continued, ignoring her, “I’ll give ‘im that. Maybe he has a place at the table. So does Ulysses as it would seem.”

“Y’passed one of the tests, kid!” he announced— jeering almost, “ya killed the last navy man aboard the boat.”

‘Ship.’ she internally hissed, ‘Calling this vessel anything less is an insult to her.’

“Congratulations,” he applauded, and as he did, she watched the knife disappear from within Ulysses’ grip. “Can have a breakdown about it, or y’can be happy!”

“Maybe talk t’him,” his eyes drifted off, closer to thinking out loud than actually addressing Ulysses or herself, “Tell him our rules... He’ll need to get more familiar.”

And then with as much fanfare as he arrived, he slipped around the mast, and was back to the depths he preferred.

‘If he comes within five feet of me I might have to punch his nose in.’

She inhaled.

Exhaled.

Looking back down, solely at Ulysses now, it peered into the shadows and gently held the wood elf’s hand; the one now rather noticeably without an implement meant to stab.

Ulysses’ hand, however, was in a deathgrip on itself, and the rough tang of blood was once more wafting in the air.

She tsked in gentle concern. “Oh dear. Hold on.”

“Don’t.”

It paused in its accessing of magic around them. “You want to keep losing the blood?” she gently questioned. “That’s not going to be helpful for your hunger.”

He was silent, shaking and leaning against her. “Damn it all..!” he quietly cried, the pitch making it all but silent.

Instead of magic, as Ulysses had asked her not to do, it instead pulled out bandage wraps from the little medkit now nearly permanently attached to her hip. Tapping open his hand via gentle presses of some pressure points, it started wrapping his hand tightly and securely so the blood wouldn’t drip.

“God.. damn it!” he wailed again, only becoming vaguely louder to compensate for more syllables; because it definitely was not for her ears.

“..I don’t think he deserves to be damned, right now.” She hummed, “If at all.”

“Aughh,” was his clever retort.

It looked at him, now fiddling with the bandage idly. Eyes drained of any light and crunched into a position that could only be comfortable for a cat; he looked exhausted and ready to lay face down on the planks for good.

“Do you feel better, or do you feel worse?”

“...I don’t know.”

They both snorted in laughter at the indirect answer for an incomplete question, but it asked it again; a bit clearer this time. “Do you feel better for having talked about it at all?”

“I think,” he contemplated with a small scrunch of his nose, “I just want to fling myself off the edge of the ship at this point?”

“Well, we can’t have that, you have people to say ‘hello’ to. I don’t think it’d be easy to explain to Pepper why you just— threw yourself into the ocean and decided to never come back on land. Or Sol for that matter.” Upon thinking about it more for two seconds, and how this was her best friend, it pulled a wry expression. “I think Sol would actually have my head.”

Pepper’s head poked over the edge of the stairs, “Yeah, I would be really fucking confused if that happened.”

Ulysses visibly grimaced and curled into a smaller ball. “Oh great, another person to come fucking scold me like a child.”

Pepper approached with swishing skirts and a soft concerned tilt to their brow. “No, I’m not going to scold you, my dear, I think Eno has done that enough.”

“Us too!” was called from the top of the crow’s nest.

Eno glanced up with an amused trill. Of course he was eavesdropping the entire time; kind of impossible not to, in his position, but it was funny regardless.

Pepper’s head turned upwards, a mien of slight surprise but their voice was warm with affection as they called upwards. “Thank you, Abaddon.”

“But I am incredibly confused,” Pepper continued, returning to look at them, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them, “and a little dazed, about what happened. What happened? How long was I out?”“Only a day,” she murmured soothingly.

“Okay– that’s clearly a day too many,” Pepper lamented in a wide-eyed grimace.

“You deserve your beauty sleep after all that, Pepper,” Ulysses sighed.

They gestured with a small spread of their arms, dramatic with a slight roll of their head. “I feel like my beauty rest is going to cause me more mental distress… Uhm.”

Enososin turned its head to look where Pepper had started staring– their arms had started falling back to a more concerned chest position, and its gaze landed squarely on Vyrdakks.

“Too much has happened in a single day?” They questioned, clearly unsure of how to politely ask ‘what-and-who-the-fuck-is-that-and-why-is-it-passed-out-on-the-deck’ without saying it blatantly out loud; a surprising show of tact, despite the unnecessary censoring.

“That’s Vyrdakks,” she stated.

“We’re trying to get him back together with his ex-husbands,” Ulysses explained, amused.

“What?”

“Lockwell,” she sang in lieu of a proper explanation.

“What?!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ulysses waved off tiredly, seemingly sensing nothing was going to get the new-comer on board actually explained.

“Okay. I’m. Uh,” Pepper looked around and then back at them in confusion.

“A lot happened, darling,” it sighed and gently took one of the mothkin’s hands in a soothing gesture. A lot happened and simultaneously nothing at all. Net zero activities, even if relations were altered.

“Yeah, I can tell,” they quietly fretted, pressing closer to the owlin and Ulysses, “is everything alright now?”

“No,” she replied, “but it will be.”

“That is fair,” they sighed, rubbing one of their shoulders with a small grimace.

The quiet once again followed ever so briefly, only broken by the wood elf’s shaky attempts to take in air that his lungs no longer used, and Pepper leaning closer to be shielded from the cold.

“If you all get stabbed in the back,” Ulysses hissed, “I’m just telling you right now. I fucking told you so.”)

Prologue; One - Two - Three - Four

High Seas; It Begins - Something's Wrong - Blood in the Water pt. 1 - Blood in the Water pt. 2 - Crimson Runs Blue within Crépuscule pt. 1 (here!) - Crimson Runs Blue within Crépuscule pt. 2 - Fake Orchestra playing a Synthetic Symphony

#my writings #Pirate Campaign #dnd ocs #Enososin Folook #Gaura Arzorath #Ulysses (OC)#Desmond Kallstrom #Pepper Kochavi #Abaddon Diallos #Soleil (OC)#David L. Jones (Davy Jones)#Vyrdakks; Kell of the House of Gold #Xiomara Amar #Saint Rollo #Lockwell (NPC)#Misirak the cartoon villain you are /so jov #thats. a loooottta characters. anyways; this taglist will get worse. also.#gamers. these two parts are 26k words. im so sorry.#2nd part up in literally just a moment #these have kinda just become transcripts I realize;#however. WELP. I LIKE WRITING. AND MY FRIENDS SEEM TO ENJOY IT REGARDLESS. (SHRUGS LOUDLY)#also i looove not being able to describe colors (/jovial sarcarsm) bc this woman has no gottdamn clue what any of 'em look like.#if you see a reference to the dispossessed shhhh yes you do #if you recognize the things referenced within the title. (kisses you)#rea's trash

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void-botanist · 2 years ago

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Last line tag

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence

Thank you @writinglittlebeasts for the tag! Have the beginning of a new Declan scene:

Rodney kept looking at him from the driver’s seat while pretending that he wasn’t.

Tagging @kingkendrick7 @kahvilahuhut @outpost51 @chayscribbles @vacantgodling @sarahlizziewrites @sam-glade @cabbojage @arionawrites @sleepyowlwrites @sunset-a-story @writernopal @akindofmagictoo @touloserlautrec (but as always, no pressure!)

#casually slipping the nicea taglist in the tag list lol #I started Nicea going 'wow these two homosexuals are going to have a weird relationship' and then just. failed to write that part #but whatever. I write super out of order anyway and I wanted to write about other stuff #last line tag game #tag games #wip: nicea #c: Rodney #c: Declan

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aomiiine · 1 month ago

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COME HOME? CUM HOME!

LIKE A ROMANCE TURNED EROTIC … husband farspace colonel!caleb & wife!reader. warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI (18+), pure filth ahead !! established relationship, fluff for like the first 3-4 paragraphs, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up b4 action irl), impatient caleb lol, creampie, breeding, teasing, uhh daddy kink, degradation (he calls u a slut), petnames: pip-squeak(once!!!), baby, honey, princess, brat, not proofread wordcount. 1.9k (small smth for caleb’s release!! a bit rushed) taglist. @jellysix

𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑺 from service after nearly a year, caleb is more than eager to reacquaint himself with his wife’s body.

22nd January. Today. It was the day your beloved husband finally returned from service as the Farspace Colonel. You stayed up all day, all night since the day before, restless and worried of your husband’s well being. Sure, news hasn’t said much about the farspace dealings but being a Space Hunter, you heard a thing or two from work.

“Honey? I’m back— uumph!”

you raised from the couch the moment you heard keys jingling from outside your front door, reaching Caleb as soon as he opened the door to take a step inside. Your arms circled his torso beneath his arms, nearly tackling him with your jump which he caught with ease, tossing his bag to the side on the floor carelessly.

“Hello to you too, my little brat,” Caleb giggled, lifting you up from the ground in his arms with a little twirl. He buried his face into the top of your head, hair tickling his nose as he inhaled your scent deeply, taking the unique scent of yours—the scent of home.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he gushed, lips against your hair with his gloved hand cradling the back of your head, tucking you deep under his chin. “Then you’re can’t imagine how much I missed you,” you mumbled against the firm plane of his chest, his uniform warm against the warm curves of your body pressed against his perfectly like puzzle pieces complementing each other. “Dramatic as always,” he chuckled warmly.

wholesome reunion, right? Caleb indulged himself in you, catching up to all the days he missed out in your life. He stayed patient, listening like a good husband all the while he kept the cruel side of him that clawed at his skin to pounce and ravage you. Caleb knew he couldn’t. Not now, at least. So bit his tongue, curled his fingers to a fist so tight, you could hear the faint strain of leather.

“Sweetheart.. so much has happened since I left. I missed out on so much, baby, don’t you think it’s time to make up for lost time?” He finally spoke his mind after the hums and replies of acknowledgement at your joyful gushing, the sight of you so happy to see him igniting a certain desire both innocent and not inside him.

you quirked a brow at him, small smile on your face along at his words. You were glad he wanted to make up for lost time, but now?

“Right now? Sure, I suppose. If you have an idea how,” you shrugged with acceptance, nodding as you shifted yourself on the couch to face him better. And in the split second your eyes met his face, you could’ve sworn you saw the edge of his lips curled to a smirk.

“Oh, I do have ideas.. So many of them.” Caleb’s hand on your waist squeezed the flesh there lightly before pulling you closer to him, other hand moving to tilt your head up with a finger beneath your chin. In that moment, your eyes blinked wildly, throat dry and lips parted invitingly for his lips to capture yours. And they did, securely so. His tongue plundered deep into the warm cavern of your mouth, slanting and sweeping his tongue over yours.

“Shouldn’t take it lightly when I say I miss you, pip-squeak,” caleb murmured once he broke the kiss, hand previously beneath your chin now holding your face, long slender fingers sliding up your jaw until they raked through your hair.

His other hand wandering your body made you gasp, cold leather fingers sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt to skim through the surface of your belly. He wasn’t shy with his exploration, making his way to cup the soft mound of your breast until it filled his palm.

“Fuck, these curves, these pretty tits that are just begging for their daddy’s touch, yeah?” Your husband seemed in awe as he reacquainted himself with your body, kneading the flesh of your breast through the confines of your bra, all until he tugged it down to spill you bare to his hand. Every tug and pinch of pebbled nipple sent jolts of desire straight to your core, your back arching into him involuntarily, much to his pleasure.

“C-Caleb, maybe we should head into the bedroom— ack!” Your efforts to reason with him was interrupted with a firm yet gentle shove on your shoulder, his larger frame hovering over yours that was laid on the couch. “Bedroom, living room, what difference does it make? We’re alone regardless,” he replied with a sly smirk, pushing your shirt up to your chin, exposing your bare midriff and tampered bra.

“Besides, your legs are welcoming me so wholeheartedly.. Is it force of habit?” Caleb taunted, free hand taking off his hat to toss to on the coffee table beside them. His other hand wrapped around the curve of your thigh, nestling himself between them as your legs locked around his waist securely.

“Must’ve fucked you so good before I left. Trained you just for this moment, didn’t I?” He drawled, free hand resting flat on your pelvis, the cold metal band on his ring fingers tracing idle circles on your skin sending goosebumps to your body. You whimpered his name, unsure exactly to ask from him all the while you squirmed beneath his touch.

“Baby, please,” you pleaded breathlessly, eyes flickering down to his hand flat on your lower belly, fingers dangerously low to your core. His hand went back up to hook a finger under the waistband of your pants, tugging down to your knees, pulling up and off your legs. All that was left was your panties, the a wet spot slowly blooming on the fabric.

“Please, what? Be more specific.. I only take clear orders, after all,” your husband chuckled lowly, leaning down closer to you, hips nestling closer to yours just enough to let you feel the bulge of his cock growing with every passing moment.

“Please what?” He repeated by your ear hotly, knowing exactly he was doing by teasing you like this.

you on the other hand, was torn between your pride and need for him. You didn’t like the thought he could see how much affected you with his absence, and return. This was surely be material for him to tease you for later on. But at the moment, you could care. You needed him to calm the raging desire in your heat, desperately.

”please.. fuck me,” you whispered, brows furrowed as you relented to his advances, eyes fixated on the sight of his hips grinding with shallow thrusts into you, the ridge of his cock straining in the confines of his pants painfully evident against the soft folds of your panty clad pussy.

The colonel smirked beside your ear, leaning away just enough to look at your face, drinking in the lust dazed expression you had on right now.

“Good girl,” he purred, grabbing each of your thighs up all of the sudden, lifting your legs up and pushing them up to your chest. He release one leg of yours to unbuckle his own belt with ease, unzipping his fly and tugging his pants down with his boxers to let his throbbing cock breath. He hissed at the cold air, stroking himself with a fist lazily before leaning down to align his tip over your clothed folds, pulling the fabric aside. A soft moan escaped your lips at the direct contact, his hips nudging forward to pierce through your slick entrance.

“So fucking tight, perfect pussy remembers me, baby..,” caleb rambled, slowly burying his girth deeper into your warm heat that welcomed the intrusion, fluttering around his shaft with each move he made. He proceeded to lift your legs up to hang over his shoulder, the narrow space between your calves allowing him a view of your sprawled on the couch, hair sprawled on the velvet cushion, features scrunched into a face of unadulterated pleasure. But nothing turned him on more than the sight of your tits bouncing back and forth in time with his thrusts, your voice raising in volume each time he got deeper in your depths—rearranging your guts with frantic jerks of his hips.

“Come on, cum for me.. Welcome me back with a biiig, wet mess, baby,” caleb coaxed, hugging your legs to his body with both arms, fucking in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless abandon. His hips were unforgiving, drunk in the feeling of your pussy sucking and wringing him dry for he was worth. It took you all the focus and energy you could muster to keep yourself stable on the narrow surface of the couch, holding on tight to the headrest you clung onto.

“Caleb, ngh— too fast, too fast!” You slurred, your husband’s bulbous cockhead bullying the spongy spot that he knew by heart, beyond eager to make you explode on his cock. “What was— shit— that? Too slow?” Caleb teased between pants, grinning at the tight spasms of your velvety walls, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. And he was determined to make you reach it first.

his name fell from your lips repeatedly like a mantra, nails burying into the cushion of the couch’s headrest with the fabric threatening to break—like how the coil in your belly threatened to snap. Caleb’s cock plunging into your core was reckless still, especially so now that you were on the brink of climaxing. So in a final effort, Caleb sheathed himself inside you to the hilt, settling on shallow thrusts and grinds on your clit. Much to his pleasure, the change of pace finally made you cum, your juices coming out in a spray on his cock and his pelvis, the pressure only urging him to start moving again—harder this time.

“That’s my wife, cumming all over me like a dirty slut, hm? Don’t worry, princess, I’ll be joining you aah— soo enough,” he groaned, arms binding your shivering legs tighter as he fucked into your pussy like a man deprived of any sorts of physical touch—and in a way, he way. He went on too long without you, he had to melt himself in your sopping cunt again.

“Yesyesyesyes, agh— fuck!” Caleb groaned loud, a deep guttural moan coming from his chest without his control when he felt his balls draw up tight, cock heavy and throbbing as jet after jet of semen was pumped into your womb. His hips didn’t dare to stop plummeting into your vice-like channel until he was sure that his seed would take root, that you would be swollen with his child after a month or two.

Well, he would need a good reason to stay by your side after that long, torturous, mission.

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hoziersong · 9 months ago

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should i update my taglist again now that i'm on vacation and will probably be actually creating stuff now that i have the time

#i haven't updated the taglist in a while #it would probably be mostly for my 911 stuff but then i also want to make other non-fandom art and idk if i should have two separate lists

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bunnis-monsters · 1 month ago

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Late night thoughts about incubus husband…

He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.

Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.

But he went a bit too far tonight.

You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.

But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”

He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“

You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”

His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.

“My love… that’s not-“

You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”

Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?

Oh how wrong he was.

When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.

This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.

Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.

“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”

The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.

So that’s how you felt…

“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.

If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?

If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…

Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.

Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?

—————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

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httpsserene · 1 month ago

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𝟏-𝟖𝟎𝟎-𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏-𝐌𝐄-𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔

summary: fans notice that charles’ cars are suddenly being parked perfectly. come to find out, his (secret) girlfriend has been parking his ferrari like butter.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!poc!reader

smau (ignore dates on tweets pls). fluff & humor. explicit language. two or three uses of "y/n." charles’ canonically questionable parking. reader goes undercover on f1twt. charles gets cyberbullied /jk? secret agent roleplay? (don't ask, it'll make sense, maybe). big thx to the girlies on twt who had threads of charles' bad parking photos ;p

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚ this is like mid-level charles leclerc stan knowledge. bro put all of his skill points into racepace and forgot about parking his daily cars 😭 enjoy reading, my loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

instagram • f1fanpagemonaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

f1fanpagemonaco the planets must be in alignment because charles leclerc has perfectly parked his ferrari this afternoon 😱

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

user1 i-i can't believe my eyes 😧

user2 it's only taken him a decade to learn how to parallel park LOL

user3 monaco native here! can confirm- his cars have decreased cosplaying as road obstructions for about three months :)

user4 THREE MONTHS ??!!? how is this the first time i'm hearing about this ???

user5 i don't believe this. did anybody SEE him park the car 🤨🤨🤨

user6 we're going to find out this photo was ai generated in a couple weeks haha

user7 take this down !!! we're supposed to keep this on the dl to avoid jinxing ourselves 🤬

user8 fr, i thought every monegasque was in agreement about staying hushed :(

user9 after almost flying over the hood of his cars TWICE on my bicycle- i'm glad that he's improving his parking skills ☺️

user9 HIS BROTHERS AND FRIENDS IN THE LIKES IS EVEN CRAZIER??! CHARLES STAND UP FOR YOURSELF ⁉️⁉️

user8 didn't you just say that you almost crashed into his (badly) parked car in the comment above ? user9 i fail to see how that's relevant rn

user10 charles woke up saying "i understand it now" and performed the best parallel parking known to man

user11 y'all are getting ahead of yourselves. there's a very high chance that it was valet parking 🙄

user5 this is what i'm saying!!! user12 lol what if he decided to hire a private driver 🤣 user13 charles would neverrrrr—remember how he acted on the start-stop challenge we Carlos 👀 user14 he DOES NOT serve passenger princess ☠️

twitter

imessage • charles -> yn

twitter • @ cl16sleftnipple -> yn's undercover fan acct

imessage • yn -> charles

igstory • charles_leclerc has uploaded !

[caption; she accepts watching sunsets on a yacht as a form of payment 😉]

this story is unavailable. get notifications when charles_leclerc shares a story.

igstory • yninstagram has uploaded to their close friends story !

[caption; if anyone is looking for a chauffeur call me at 1-800-HELP-ME-PARK 😅]

franciscacgomes u have to take me on a joyride the next time i'm in monaco !!!

yninstagram yes! we'll ditch the boys for the day and collect some speeding tickets with the stradale ;p

yourfriend do you do weddings 👀

yninstagram weddings, birthdays, bachelor & bachelorette parties, etc. yourfriend how much do you charge? yninstagram 4 cheeseburger

charles_leclerc i thought i hired you for your exclusivity 😑

yninstagram shh mon amour you'll always be my favorite client xoxo

olliebearman if i get him for secret santa next year, i'm gifting him parking lessons 😆

yninstagram you'd be my favorite child if you did 🛐 olliebearman :DDD

instagram • f1fanpagemonaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

f1fanpagemonaco charles leclerc posts and deletes a photo of an unknown woman to his instagram story in the midst of a rampant discussion of his suddenly improved parking! it's captioned: "she accepts watching sunsets on a yacht as a form of payment." was this an accidental post of the rumored chauffeur that's behind the perfect parking of his vehicles?

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

user17 the winky face emoji is making me think she's more than just his chauffeur 👀👀👀

user18 we really do need to open the schools :/

user19 bc how do you read the caption and not see that it's blatant confirmation that he's hired a driver?

user20 i don't even have to see behind that champagne flute to know that she's a baddie 😮‍💨

user21 now that i think about it, i think i saw a woman with this exact outfit walking a dachshund that could’ve been leo!!! wish we could see more of her face to confirm ☹️

user22 does anybody else think that this was just meant to distract us from the original issue of charles being unable to park a car???

user23 talk about it!!! user24 i mean it doesn't really matter if he can park anymore now that he's paying somebody to do it for him 🤷‍♀️

twitter • @ cl16sleftnipple -> yn's undercover fan acct

imessage • yn -> charles

instagram • f1fanpagemonaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

f1fanpagemonaco the plot thickens 😱 the woman rumored to be charles leclerc's chauffer was caught parking his car and taking a photo afterward! this confirms her chauffeur status AND leads many to think that she's also the woman behind @/cl16sleftnipple on twitter. our discord members have hunted down what may be her instagram account too 🧐

view comments

user25 why do i feel so violated!!! his chauffeur has been a double agent the entire time 🤯

user26 tbh charles better be paying her beautifully !!!

user27 iktr bc i would not try to convince everybody on the internet that he can park when it's really me doing all the work!

user28 i think i'm in love with her

user29 who is this diva 💜

user30 next thing you know we're gonna find out she has a tumblr for f1 ff's 😭😭😭

user31 i think somebody is leaking the plot to the next trending netflix original movie 👄

user32 lwk i think i could convince her to drive me around in my prius 🤥

user33 you forget how to speak around hot women and only have $12.32 in your checking acct—you couldn't even convince her to breathe the same air as you bestie 😘 user32 i know you like to think that calling me bestie after reading me to filth will make up for it, but it just makes me want to strangle you even more :)

instagram • charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

charles_leclerc if you're going to reveal who cl16sleftnipple is, at least get her job title correct 😠 she's not my chauffeur, she's my girlfriend and parking princess 👸🏾🤗😘🥰🤭🤤😚

view comments

yninstagram can you believe that he doesn't like when i drive but he BEGS me to park ??? make it make sense 😅

charles_leclerc ma chérie you REFUSE to use the break pedal!!! yninstagram break pedals are 4 losers (i am speed 🏎)

user35 GIRLFRIEND???!!! 😵‍💫😵👻

user36 when you say girlfriend, do you mean that she's a friend who happens to be a girl orrrrrrrrrr?

charles_leclerc orrrrr girlfriend meaning l'amour de ma vie 🥰🥰🥰

user37 two pretty people in a happy relationship? 2025 isn't so bad 😌

user36 maybe the world is healing 🥹 user37 maybe charles leclerc wdc 2025 🫣 yninstagram pls don't jinx it 😩 go knock on wood rn 🫵🏾

user38 why did she go with "cl16sleftnipple" as her username???

yninstagram because it's my favorite one obv 😇 charles_leclerc what's wrong with my right nipple :(((( yninstagram idk it just looks at me weird sometimes... user38 how does a body part look at you weirdly 😀

user39 oh, this baddie is weird? say less, i'm sending her my credit card information rn

user40 charles leclerc core LMFAOOO

user41 waiiiiitttt does this mean she's not gonna use her fan acct anymore :(

user42 aw man i didn't even think about that; i was constantly on twt just to see what funny shit she was saying lol yninstagram if the people want more of cl16sleftnipple who am i to deny them 😌👐🏾

instagram • yninstagram

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 34,785 others

yninstagram AITA for saving the citizens of monaco by parking my (25 F) boyfriend's (27 M) cars for him because he's incapable of fitting within two lines without being a road hazard?

comments on this post have been limited

yourfriend TLDR: she lost the plot by starting a fan twt to try and save her bf's reputation (who's notoriously known for his shit parking) it backfired bc everybody thought she was his chauffeur

yourfriend (cont.) now charles has to suffer with the world knowing that he has his gf position his cars AND that he still can't park charles_leclerc this wasn't necessary 😒 yourfriend is that what you said when it was time to learn how to parallel park ☠️

lilymhe reminds me of the time charles blocked traffic picking you up from brunch last year 😆

franciscacgomes i remember when the honks started and yn was like "oh, that probably means charles is here!" lilyzneimer first brunch i went to with the wags and i left with tinnitus from the sound of car horns blaring 🥲 yninstagram sorry little lily! next meet up will be honk free :) yninstagram ...was v embarrassing to get into the car that's blocking traffic 🫠

oscarpiastri NTA 👍🏻

oscarpiastri is now a good time to say that charles almost backed his car into me before padel yesterday? charles_leclerc NO IT WILL NEVER BE A GOOD TIME TO SAY THAT yninstagram mb the electric scooter wasn't such a bad idea…

maxverstappen1 NTA 😹😹😹

lando thinking about how much money charles loses to parking fines 🤣

olliebearman not to pray on his downfall but

olliebearman when his license gets suspended can i get the spider 🥺 arthurleclerc NUH UH 🙅🏻‍♂️ i get the spider and you get the sf90 oscarpiastri i'll take the daytona then 👍🏻 pierregasly i think i can make room for the roma 😌 charles_leclerc yeah this isn't praying, it's PLANNING on my downfall 😒😒😒

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ravensmadreads · 11 months ago

Text

Under the cut because i have THOUGHTS-

Ok first of let me just SCREEEAMMMMMMMMM???????

THE AGE GAP, THE DYNAMIC, THE LOST KID LOOKING FOR THE LIGHT, THE ANGSTY ADULT TRYING TO HELP HIMSELF BY HELPING SOMEONE ELSE, THE THE THE... EVERYTHING!?!?!?!?!?

You had me by the throat the first time Tim said Kid not even GONNA LIE (i have issues okay) and the fact that Shane is doing that thing where he's pushing for a reaction. And the part where Tim just doesn't even entertain calling him Dio whahwjzhedieb SIR! AND YOU DESCRIBED THE SITTING THE OTHER WAY ON THE CHAIR (my bilingual self be tripping over words) and that was so hot like seriously I GOTTA LIE DOWN.

Shane blinked at him before a giggle bubbled out of his mouth. “Your first name is Tim?” - YOU ARE SO REAL FOR THIS???? I've been screaming at @chronically-ghosted since this ad came out that he's so HOT and they named him fucgjgn Tim it's a travesty!

OK OK OK. the spice was too hot to handle and im not even gonna TOUCH the "good boy" with a 10 foot pole because i might just explode. The dynamic Erin you're killing me you're KILLING ME.

The way Tim wants to help, and is so SOFT about it??? and then also holding himself back??? and the EGGS and the BLANKET and the how are you FEELING pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeee my emotions!!!!!! Also dont think i didnt notice thay subtle hint at size kink (Tim with his big hands and big thighs) I DID I SEE U AND IM SCREAMING AGAIN

And then Shane!!! He dared!! But he thinks he got rejected!!! I am CRYING!! and also im not cause MA'AM THIS IS SO GOOD

bloody kisses — part one: less than zero

pairing: shane morrissey/tim rockford rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 5k content: vaguely takes place in the 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, some angst, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @chronically-ghosted (ily ♥)

summary: shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

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The kid was a fucking regular at this point.

Tim just happened to be in the station every time the kid got caught. Maybe he was doing it on purpose, who knows.

And God help him, Tim sorta liked the little shit.

“Don’t you ever get tired of coming here, Shane?”

“I told you, my name is–”

“I’m not calling you that and you know it,” Tim sighed exasperatedly, rubbing a large hand over his face. “Why did you steal the magazine?” Tim’s voice was almost bored when he asked.

Shane stayed quiet, picking at the chipped black nail polish on his fingernails. He was looking down, chains jingling from how quickly he was bouncing his leg. Was he nervous? Tim didn’t think the kid was ever nervous. Or, well. Acted like it, at least.

Shane Morrissey, twenty-three, twenty-four next month, was found at a convenience store stealing an issue of Playgirl Magazine. Tim wasn’t judging, but his reading on the kid veered off in, well, the other direction. He had the vibe that Shane could go either way; either aggressively straight, or trying to cover something up.

“Look, I really don’t care why, kid. I’m not going to… judge you, or something–”

“Whatever, old man,” Shane sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from him. “Can I just get my community service and go?”

Tim quirked a brow and crossed his own arms over his chest, standing tall behind the chair pushed into the interrogation table. Tim had asked Ron to turn the microphones in the room off. Tim knew the kid better than anyone here, and he knew Shane wouldn’t talk if he knew he was being recorded. Or he’d go off about aliens or “drones” or whatever other bullshit he came up with next.

Shane wasn’t an idiot, Tim knew that. Shane knew that. He just had a hell of a wall put up.

Tim sighed and pulled the chair out. He spun it around so he could sit on it backwards, arms perched on the top. “Kid,” Tim started. “Listen, I’m not going to do anything. It’s a fucking magazine and this is New York City. Your little theft is pretty far down the list of my priorities right now.”

Shane actually looked a little offended, looking at Tim incredulously.

“I’m going to let you off with a warning this time. And to be honest, I don’t want to see you back in here anytime soon, okay?”

“Aww, kicking me out? Thought you liked our little chats,” Shane batted his eyelashes, an exaggerated pout on his lips. He rolled his eyes after that and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, bored.

“I said I didn’t wanna see you back in here, Morrissey.”

Shane looked at him, big brown eyes squinted accusingly.

Tim reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, digging out a business card. He slid it across the table until it was next to one of Shane’s hands. He didn’t really know why he was offering this to Shane. Well, he did, but he couldn’t really say, ‘I see a lot of myself in you,’ without Shane taking it the wrong way. This wasn’t one of Shane’s normal petty crimes. Shane didn’t strike him as the type to steal this sort of thing. He’d vandalize the side of a building or go on joyrides. Things that were mostly just annoying. This magazine was… different.

Tim had his fair share of this sort of thing. He got into being a cop because he got caught when he was in his twenties. He was angry at the world because people didn’t accept him, so he lashed out. He got the feeling that Shane was the same way. Things were different in the 80s, so hiding this part of himself worked for Tim. He didn’t want Shane to feel like he had to.

“If you wanna talk, give me a call, okay?”

Shane rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but Tim held up a hand to cut him off.

“I know, you don’t want to call a cop, but I promise I’ll be off duty. I’ll just be Tim when you call, not Detective Rockford.”

Shane blinked at him before a giggle bubbled out of his mouth. “Your first name is Tim?”

It was Tim’s turn to roll his eyes. He sighed heavily and got up, pushing the chair back in. “Or don’t call me, whatever, kid. I’m just saying, if you need someone to talk to about… anything, just. I’m all ears, alright?” He kept things vague on purpose. Once he was back at the interrogation room’s door, he turned back around. “Seriously, I don’t wanna see you back in here again, alright?”

Shane raised his eyebrows, eyes wide as a mocking facial expression crossed his features. “Whateverrr,” he sighed, standing from his own chair. He looked down at the business card on the table and picked it up as the door clicked shut. He rubbed his thumb over Tim’s name before stuffing it in the pocket of his leather duster.

He hastily left the interrogation room and made his way toward the exit, but was stopped by a secretary.

“Shane Morrissey?”

Shane cringed as he froze, staring at the older woman. He glared a little, but raised his arms in defeat. “Yeah? What?” He bit back at her.

“Detective Rockford said you had personal items,” she said sweetly, rolling her chair to the wall of lockers behind her.

Shane raised a brow. “I didn’t bring anything–”

“Here you go, sweetie. Don’t go getting into trouble now!”

Shane sighed and grabbed the black plastic bag from her. “What did this old man give me–?” He gasped as he looked inside the bag, cheeks burning. It was the magazine he’d stolen. The Playgirl magazine. He squeezed his eyes shut and got out of the station like a bat out of hell.

Honestly, the only reason he’d stolen it was because Peter Steele was on the cover. He was in that convenience store for a pack of smokes and saw the frontman’s face on the cover, bare chest on full display, with a large hand cupping the cock in his underwear.

He’d been staring at the cover for a few minutes too long, because the convenience store clerk waved his hands in front of his face. “You gonna buy somethin’, man?” The clerk’s name tag said “Dante” and he looked very bored.

Shane shook himself out of it and looked up, the bright red of the magazine piercing the corner of his eye. “Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat, digging into his baggy pants to pull out his wallet. “I’ll get a pack of reds,” he mumbled, pulling out a couple greasy bills.

Dante didn’t bother asking for his ID and just turned around, digging into a drawer below the case of cigarettes for the key to open it.

Shane’s eyes were like a magnet, pulling directly back to the magazine. He looked at Dante’s back for a second, and quickly rolled up and stuffed the magazine into one of the deep pockets of his leather duster.

Dante pulled out the pack of cigarettes and locked the case shut again. He sighed as he tossed the pack onto the counter. “That’ll be ten bucks,” he said, voice monotone.

Shane handed him a ten dollar bill and turned to leave.

“Hey!”

He turned back, standing in the doorway just as the bell dinged above him, and saw Dante’s bored face now looking angry. “The fuck you doin’, man? Put that back!”

Shane raised his brows and looked down, the magazine poking out of his pocket. He looked back up at Dante’s face and booked it, running as fast as his legs would take him.

His lungs burned as heavy boots thundered along the concrete, chains and jewelry clanging against each other. He turned down an alley and gasped for air, leaning against a dirty wall with his hands on his knees. He waited until his breathing was back to normal and checked his surroundings. When he figured the coast was clear, he took a step out of the alley.

“‘Scuse me.”

Shane whipped his head around and saw a cop standing there. “What?” He frowned, voice having a little more bite than was probably necessary, but well, Shane hated cops.

“You just come from a convenience store down the road?” The cop pointed his thumb in the direction behind himself.

“No. Can I go back to what I was doing?”

“What were you doin’?”

“None of your business, pig,” Shane rolled his eyes and turned to leave, but the cop grabbed his arm and cuffed him. “Hey! Fuck off!”

“No can do, kid. Clerk called about a kid matching your description with a, uh… well, an interesting magazine in his pocket,” the cop grumbled, tugging on the Playgirl poking out of Shane’s pocket.

Shane’s cheeks burned in embarrassment and shame, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck.”

“C’mon, fairy boy.”

“I’m not–!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Before Shane knew it, he was in the back of a cruiser and was headed toward the station.

He couldn’t even look at the magazine now. Shane laid in his bed, in the middle of his messy bedroom, and stared at the ceiling. The bright red of the magazine cover was just out of sight. The heavy guitars and vocals from his shitty speakers pierced the silence of his room, soothing his anxious thoughts. His mind drifted off to Detective Rockford. Or Tim, he guessed. He leaned over his bed and dug through the pile of clothes he’d discarded when he got home.

Tim’s business card now in hand, he laid his head back against the pillow and stared at the embossed text. The first thing that came to mind was Tim’s gravelly voice saying, “If you wanna talk, give me a call, okay?”

What would he even say to someone like Tim? Tim was a cop. He wasn’t exactly Shane’s first pick in literally any scenario.

Shane sighed and tossed the card onto the pile of clothes. He looked over to his left at the magazine laying next to him on his wrinkled sheets. Peter Steele’s come hither facial expression stared back at him.

He’d had these… thoughts for a while now. Feelings he had no answers for. He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be. Shane liked women, he liked pussy. He did.

Did he?

He picked up the magazine and started looking through it. Of course, there were photos that went along with the cover, of The Green Man standing in front of a mirror without a shirt. He stuck his large hand down the front of his pants, lips parted and eyes closed. Shane adjusted how he was laying, feeling a minor stirring in his pelvis. Obviously Shane was looking at the woman Peter was heavily making out with on the next page.

The photos started to get a little more risqué as he went. They started out pretty tasteful, with Peter laying on a bed, fully clothed, and a hand gripped around his cock through his jeans. But they quickly became… less tasteful.

Shane stared at a photo of the singer sitting in a chair, completely naked, with a large hand wrapped around an equally large, hard cock. Shane’s own cock twitched in his boxers as he felt a light sheen of sweat at his hairline.

“What the fuck,” he whispered to himself. He slammed the magazine onto his sheets and stared at his tented underwear. There was a small wet spot where there was precum already gathering. He started to breathe unevenly and worriedly looked up at his ceiling. He couldn’t even hear the music in his room from the rushing of blood in his ears.

He leaned over his bed and frantically searched for Tim’s business card. He didn’t even know what he was thinking, but he was terrified. He grabbed the landline on his nightstand and stared at the bland text on the white background.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He couldn’t call Rockford when he had a fucking boner.

An image of Tim’s face flashed behind his eyelids and he gasped, cock twitching in interest. His eyes snapped open and he frowned. “What the fuck?”

He looked down the tent in his boxers and felt betrayed. It was bad enough that he was hard when thinking about a man, but a cop? He couldn’t fucking believe it.

“This is bullshit,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He refused to entertain his dick at all.

But his dick wasn’t listening, hard and starting to throb underneath the thin material.

He sighed in defeat and looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. “One time,” he breathed. “I’m doing this one time. No one ever has to know.”

Before he knew it, his boxers were thrown onto the messy pile on his floor and his hand was curled around his cock. He moaned at the relief he felt, thumbing the head teasingly. He shut his eyes, Tim’s face appearing behind his eyelids again. He groaned. Whether from frustration or arousal, he couldn’t tell and honestly didn’t care at this point.

He slowly built up a rhythm, stroking himself steadily. He bit his lip and sunk further into his sheets, feet planted flat on the bed. He started fucking his fist, lifting his hips off the bed. The cool air coming in through the window gave him goosebumps all over and made him whine weakly. He was thankful the music was turned up enough that he couldn’t hear himself.

“Good boy.”

Tim’s voice whispered in his ear. His imagination started to run wild, imagining Tim sitting on his bed and watching him.

“Show me how you get yourself off, baby.”

Shane groaned, the steady beat of his fist on his cock speeding up. The cool metal of the jewelry he wore on his hands had grown warm, giving him a delicious friction. It grounded him, telling him it wasn’t actually possible for it to be Tim’s hand around him.

“Want me to touch you?”

Shane nodded to himself, eyes shut in bliss. “Please,” he whispered. He slowly removed his hand and gripped himself with his left hand. It was a little awkward, but it was enough for him to imagine that it was someone else. That it was Tim.

“Fuck,” he huffed, rubbing the head with his thumb. “Gonna–”

“Come for me, Shane.”

Shane nodded to himself and sped up his left hand. Precum dribbled out of the tip, easing the way as he fucked his fist. It felt like only a few seconds had passed, completely lost in his own world. And maybe it had been only a few seconds.

“F-fuck!” He whimpered, balls drawing up. He groaned, stroking himself through it as he came hard, thick white cream covering his hand.

He came down slowly, panting hard as he kept his eyes closed. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked down at his chest. He was completely covered in his own spend and he felt heavy. That was probably the most intense orgasm he’d ever had alone.

He picked up Tim’s business card and shut his eyes in defeat.

“Fuck.”

One Week Later

Shane had no idea how he got to this point. He was laying on the concrete outside of a club downtown. His face was throbbing and he was exhausted. The faint sounds of people shouting kept him conscious as he rolled onto his back. His vision was blurred and the buildings towering over him started to spin.

“Hey! Get the fuck back up! I ain’t done with you.”

Shane groaned and tried to look up at whoever was yelling at him, but his body felt too heavy. That didn’t last for long, though, because the next thing he knew, he was being hauled up by a man twice his size.

“You gonna try that shit again, faggot? Huh?” The brute’s breath smelled like shit as he spat in Shane’s face. Shane twisted his face in disgust, his head pounding even more with all the yelling.

“Nah,” Shane smirked, eyes barely open. “I’ll suck your cock before I do that again.”

The brute squawked in disgust and punched Shane square in the jaw. Shane laughed shakily, suddenly feeling more alive than dead. He was past the point of feeling any of the pain.

“Aww, c’mon, you don’t like it when someone sucks your cock?” He taunted.

“Alright, break it up, you two,” the bouncer for the club barked, pulling the brute off of Shane. Shane sagged against the wall he was pressed up against, head hanging low. “You okay, kid?”

Shane snapped his head up, but groaned in pain before he could react. He could’ve sworn that it was someone else’s voice for a second…

“Kid?” The bouncer shook his shoulders and handed him a plastic water bottle. “I said, are you okay? You got somewhere to go? Someone you can call?”

Shane drank from the bottle with shaking hands and looked at the bouncer, eyes half-lidded. The man was big, had dark skin, a beard, and thick ropes of hair cascading down his back. He was really handsome, in Shane’s opinion. He didn’t have the energy to fight with himself about it right now.

“Y-yeah. There a phone nearby?” He croaked, licking his dry lips. The bouncer nodded and hauled Shane up onto his feet. Shane lost his footing at first and fell into him, gripping onto the man’s thick waist.

“C’mon, man,” the man grunted, basically carrying him to the club’s phone. Thankfully, the bouncer brought him to a quieter area of the club. “Can you call them yourself?”

Shane’s throbbing head moved to look up at the bouncer. He nodded slowly, opening and closing his eyes like a cat falling asleep.

“I’ll be in the hall if you need me, okay? I’ll get you another water.”

Shane hummed and picked up the club’s phone, gently pressing it to his ear. He dug into his duster pocket and pulled out Tim’s business card. It was all rumpled up and dirty, but he could still read the numbers, surprisingly. He’s pretty sure it takes him far too long to dial the numbers, but the faint sound of the phone ringing tells him he actually did it.

Tim picks up on the third ring.

“This is Rockford.”

A shiver travels down Shane’s spine at the familiar gravelly voice.

“Th-thought you were ‘just Tim’ with me,” he says weakly, a faint smile on his face.

“Morrissey? Didn’t think you’d actually call me, shit. Are you okay?”

“Peachy,” he grunted. His voice sounded pinched when he said it, his face curled up in pain again. He’s pretty sure the brute split his lip because that’s throbbing now too.

“Where are you, Shane? I hear music.”

“C-club downtown. Got–” he paused, swallowing around a lump of pain in his throat. “Pissed someone off.”

“Shit, kid. Do you need me to come get you?”

Shane groaned in pain as an answer and nodded, even though Tim couldn't see him. The bouncer came back, putting another plastic water bottle in front of him. Shane made eye contact with him and nodded in thanks. “Can you–” He gestured to the water bottle, asking for the large man to open it for him.

“Is someone there? Give them the phone, kid.”

Shane didn’t answer and just handed the phone to the bouncer. He didn’t hear the one-sided conversation and just laid back in the swiveling office chair, the now opened bottle in his hand.

The bouncer hung up the phone and chuckled down at Shane. “You got friends in places I didn’t think you would, man.”

Shane smiled, eyes shut. “We’ve got history,” he said vaguely.

“I’m sure you do. He’ll be here soon.”

Shane had no idea how much time passed, but the sound of Tim’s low, soft voice in his ear woke him up. When he opened his eyes, Tim’s tired, handsome face greeted him, making him smile softly.

“You came,” he said softly, genuinely a little surprised, and tried to stand on wobbly legs.

“‘Course I came, kid. Said I’d help you out. You okay coming back to my place?”

Shane hummed and wrapped an arm around Tim’s broad torso, fingers fiddling with the tank top’s material. He was wearing one underneath a button-up. He probably just got off work.

“Take that as a yes,” Tim sighed. He looked to the bouncer, and nodded in thanks. He led Shane out to his Caprice and buckled him into the passenger seat. “Keep drinking that water, okay?”

Shane mumbled in response and lolled his head against the back of the seat.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, kid, Jesus.”

“Hit ya real hard, didn’t he?” Tim grunted, pressing a wet washcloth against the cut on Shane’s cheekbone.

“More of a lovetap.”

Tim sighed and cupped Shane’s face in a large hand to hold him steady. Shane held his breath, eyes glued to the focused expression on Tim’s face. He studied every detail, never getting a chance to be so close to him before.

“Why were you at the club, Shane?”

Shane sighed and looked down at Tim’s broad chest underneath the tank top. He’d taken off the dress shirt when they walked in the door of Tim’s apartment. They were sitting at the bar in Tim’s kitchen, Shane’s chunky boots on the bar of the stool Tim was sitting on. He looked at the slacks pulling at Tim’s thick thighs and forced himself to look elsewhere, inadvertently giving Tim room to clean up the blood on his split lip.

He hissed in pain at the sting and mumbled, “Wanted to get out of my apartment.”

Tim gave him a look that said, ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’

Shane rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I dunno,” he sighed.

“That was a part of downtown I didn’t think I’d find you in, to be honest,” Tim said softly. He picked up another damp washcloth and cleaned up some of the dirt on Shane’s neck. “Couple more blocks and you’d be in the… more colorful side of town.”

Shane froze, eyes wide. “What are you saying?” He asked defensively, eyebrows furrowed.

“‘M not saying anything, kid. Just making an observation,” Tim shrugged back. He removed his hands slowly and nudged Shane’s chin with the knuckle on his index finger. “There ya go. Lookin’ good.”

Shane blushed a little and looked away. He crossed his arms over his chest and mumbled, “Thanks for getting me.”

Tim smiled softly. “Sure, kid. You got anyone to let them know where you are?”

Shane shook his head and didn’t say anything.

Tim nodded and didn’t press any further. “Well, I’ve got a couch if you want somewhere to sleep for the night. Sorta late now.”

Shane turned up his nose at first, but deflated, too tired to keep the mask on. He didn’t say anything else and just walked over to Tim’s couch. He laid down on his side, facing the back of the couch and hugged himself.

Tim’s eyebrows turned down in concern, but he left it alone for now. He got up and took his shoes off, quietly making his way into the kitchen. He got Shane some water and left it on the coffee table.

Tim looked at Shane’s sleeping form one last time before he turned and went to bed.

Shane’s entire body ached. He turned his head and groaned in pain.

“Awake?”

Shane opened his eyes and immediately shut them, the light from the window blinding him. He tried again, looking over at Tim standing in his kitchen. He was wearing that same white tank top from the night before and some plaid pajama pants. His normally put-together hair was ruffled and starting to curl. Shane’s heart pounded at the sight.

“Sorry, I know it’s bright. Want something to eat?” Tim asked gently, holding up a pan and spatula.

Shane turned his body but couldn’t, legs getting all tangled in a blanket. When did he get that? He looked down and noticed his jacket and boots were off. He looked up at Tim and raised a brow.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t want you getting dirt on my couch,” Tim grumbled, turning back to his cooking.

Shane felt… something in his stomach. Were those butterflies? He didn’t get butterflies in his stomach. Least of all for a cop.

“You like eggs?”

Shane looked up again and nodded.

“Think this is the quietest you’ve ever been around me, kid,” Tim chuckled, cracking an egg into the pan.

“Sorry,” he croaked, voice still scratchy from sleep.

“Don’t be, it’s alright,” Tim hummed. He transferred the eggs onto a plate and grabbed a fork, bringing it over to Shane. He sat on the edge of his coffee table and handed the younger man the plate. “Eat, please.”

Shane looked at the plate of scrambled eggs and almost cried. He couldn’t remember the last time someone did something like this for him. He took the plate and started eating quietly.

“How you feeling?” Tim asked softly, taking a drink of his coffee. He held the mug in both hands between his thighs, Shane’s eyes glued to the sight.

“‘M alright. Sore,” Shane mumbled around the eggs.

“I’m sure you are,” Tim snorted. “I mean how are you feeling, kid.”

Shane shrugged, chewing silently. “Fine.”

Tim sighed and got up, walking back to his kitchen. Shane frowned to himself as he finished off his eggs. He set the plate down on the coffee table and stood up. He really was sore, but pushed through it as he walked into Tim’s kitchen.

“You wanna know why I was at that club?”

Tim froze at his opened refrigerator and slowly turned toward the younger man. He shut the fridge door and gave Shane his attention, leaning against the counter to the bar.

Shane shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He kept his eyes downcast as he spoke, staring at the hole in his sock. “I was at that club because I wanted to… I dunno, see more people like… like that.”

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, listening intently. “Like what?”

“Like–” Shane sighed in frustration. “Gay people,” he mumbled. “Got the address mixed up, so, this–” he gestured to his face. “Was the result.”

Tim smiled internally. There it was.

“I felt– I’ve been,” he paused, looking for the words. “I don’t really know. I don’t,” he sighed in defeat.

Tim hummed in response, unsure if Shane wanted his advice or not.

“If you’re gonna be a dick, I can just leave. I don’t wanna hear what you have to say,” Shane frowned, looking up at Tim with a hard expression on his face.

“How do you know what I was gonna say?” Tim replied, shrugging easily. Shane stared at Tim’s bulging biceps, the tank top revealing more skin than he’d ever seen.

“Well–! You’re,” Shane frowned, cheeks warm. “You’re a cop. You guys are always saying shitty things to guys like me.”

“Sure, some–”

“Don’t ‘not all cops’ me, Tim.”

Tim’s eyes widened at the response. Not necessarily the words, but the fact that Shane actually called him by his name. “Alright, I get it,” he said softly. “I know you’ve had a lot of bad experiences with cops, I’m sorry.”

Shane huffed in response, but didn’t retort.

“I mean it, though. I wasn’t going to judge you, Shane,” Tim said, stepping closer to him.

Shane’s breathing picked up, looking at Tim’s large hand on the bar’s countertop. “You weren’t?” He asked shakily.

“No, kid,” Tim chuckled. He cupped Shane’s face and gently rubbed the pad of his thumb along the split in his lip. “You can’t keep getting into trouble over this sort of thing. There are other ways.”

The air left Shane’s lungs, big brown eyes staring at Tim’s handsome face. He was so close now, Shane had no idea what to do. “L-like what?” He breathed shakily. He stared at Tim’s lips, subconsciously licking his own.

Tim looked over Shane’s face, trying to read his body language. Not yet. He took his hand away and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “Talking about it, for one,” he said quietly.

Shane exhaled a heavy breath and looked down. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he thought he was going to pass out. Was Tim about to kiss him? He looked at the back of Tim’s head, eyes looking over the curls intently.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Shane said quietly. “Not right now anyway.”

Tim turned around, face unreadable, and handed Shane the water. “What do you want to do now, then?” He asked, leaning against the bar’s countertop again.

Shane set the glass down and stepped closer into Tim’s space, eyes glued to the older man’s lips. He looked up at his eyes, then back down at his lips. He surged forward and pressed his mouth to Tim’s, kissing him roughly.

Tim grunted into it, arms raised at his sides. It took a second for his brain to kick in and he pulled back, turning his head to the side slightly.

Shane’s cheeks burned and he felt like an idiot. He turned away and grabbed his jacket that was hanging over the back of one of Tim’s dining room chairs.

“Shane, wait,” Tim started, but Shane ignored him, roughly pulling his chunky boots on.

“Don’t,” Shane snapped. “I’ll be out of your hair.” His face was hard and left no room for argument. He stormed over to the door of Tim’s apartment, heavy boots thundering loudly across the hardwood flooring.

The last thing Tim saw was Shane’s retreating form and the sound of his front door slamming, the sound echoing throughout the apartment.

#honestly i need to be put down im feral about this #i kindaaaaaaa think i knowwww what dynamic you're gonna go for with these two and when i tell you i am FERAL #shane has such BRAT energy and im LIVING VICARIOUSLY #plEASE #somebody knock me out before i start screaming again #i MUST devour this pls if u have a taglist i am BEGGING to be on it #also the angst potential is TOP NOTCH and i cant WAIT for u to exploit it and completely wreck me #and then for tim to complete wreck shane (wink wink) ok imma see myself out now

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cynicalmusings · 11 months ago

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Can you tell me what jing yuan fanfic’s full name is and where i can read it pls? <333

if you’re referring to hmc (which i assume you are; correct me if i’m wrong), the full name is ‘general’s flying ship’—i just call it hmc out of convenience—and it hasn’t been posted anywhere yet: it’s currently in the process of being beta-read. it’ll probably be about two months or so until it’s posted, and that will happen as two chapters released a week, both on ao3 and tumblr. hope this helps!

#maybe i should start a taglist #so people can be notified when it finally drops and they don’t have to check for two whole months #might do that later today #sent: anon #r answers

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sysig · 1 year ago

Note

What are some rare characters you love that you think people don’t draw or write about enough

Do Max and Dex count I love them and I feel like I'm approximately 80% of the Helix fandom rn lol

Doug Peterson and Russ Frushtick from Law Abiding Citizen - the fandom has gotten real quiet over time but I still love them so much ♥ There's a lot you can read into or leave silly with their dynamic, I still wholeheartedly recommend the emerge, transformed series as one of my favourite interpretations of Russ especially 💕

The Editor from Jazzpunk - he's just a silly little guy! It's honestly such a shame that he's only really in the last chapter, I would love to see him explored more, he's the worst ♪

Tatsumi Souichi from Koisuru Boukun - genuinely one of my all-time favourite characters, and The Only Good Tsundere as far as I'm concerned lol. I'm gonna write about him! I've got my fanfic and video essay sitting in my drafts, but like agh!! He's so interesting!!! So beautifully flawed - he's internally consistent which is my Favourite - and watching him grow and change while still being himself over literal years has been a truly unparalleled experience as a reader 💖

Luke Wigglebig and Florette from Pajama Sam: You Are What You Eat From Your Head To Your Feet - I joked before about being the only person on the internet who ships them but like, I'm pretty sure that's actually true lol. Even just more fanart of them by themselves would make me happy, they're so cute!! Especially Luke, his design is adorable

And then probably a more well-known one but I haven't been following his fandom popularity lately haha, Fai D. Flowrite from Tsubasa - him, Nova, and Watanuki move in and out of being my CLAMP faves, though Fai is probably the most complex of the three of them. And he's a trash man! A garbage fire of a wizard ♥ I love him

#This also made me realize I didn't have a Jazzpunk link in my taglist over on Drabbles lol - fixed now!#And also that I apparently have a fairly wide margin for ''Characters who I want to see more of'' and ''Characters I want to make more of''#How rare are we talking here 'cause uhhh #If you wanna get into fancharacters/OCs/etc. I have perhaps Too Many of those as well lol #That's literally the only reason Max and Dex are a strikethrough because otherwise 10000%#And y'already know about my big feelings towards many others - I wouldn't have a whole Vargas blog if not lol #I have other OC faves as well :D Cheerybot jumps out to me haha #As well as when smol shares her characters with me <3 #There was this one story that I was told by an artist as context for a commission and I was enthralled but never followed up on - a shame!#I ended up making a little extra art out of inspiration haha ♪#Anyway lol - these are just the ones that immediately spring to mind since I've drawn them :D #I almost certainly have more who just haven't made it to my paper yet lol #Not enough girls in this list - tossing in Wendy (and Jennifer) from Rule of Rose as well ♥#I could probably talk about several of these at even further length lol - I already have for some!#There's also specific dynamics I rarely see - my favourite rarepairs are probably Krillin/Vegeta(/Bulma/18) and Thranduil/Bilbo lol #There is too little appreciation for polyships!! So many of my faves have two hands!!#And to be fair Nova is probably rarer than Fai - there's definitely not enough fanfic about her dynamic with Hikaru!#I kept almost including other faves but I was like No Wait this about rare characters lol #I'm delighted to see all of my faves! But I would doubly so to see these get the love they deserve hehe <3 #Can you tell that I really enjoy ahem Interesting Personalities lol #All my faves are disasters I love them <3

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teeskzagain · 3 months ago

Text

˚‧‿₊୨୧₊You're Such A Brat₊ ˚‧୧₊︵‧ ˚ ₊

» pairing: arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader

» summary: since high school, park sunghoon has been the absolute bane of your existence. you’ve always viewed him as a stuck-up snob, and he has always seen you as a whiny brat. you aren’t sure why your mother still thinks of you two as friends, you can hardly stand being in the same room as each other. while at home from college one night, your mother surprises you with news of a work event she and mrs. park will be attending. the catcher? mrs. park’s nightmare of a son is going to be forced to spend the evening at your house…..

» warnings: college au, lots of arguments (both are toxic af), lowkey manipulative on both ends?? t e n s i o n, one scene depicting choking, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), extremely rough sex, enemies….to…?, lil unserious in the beginning, reader and sunghoon genuinely detest one another (but isn’t that the best😫) mean!dom sunghoon, bratty!sub y/n, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), degrading kink, teasing, heavy/aggressive make-outs, breasts play, masturbation (f. - reader masturbates to fake scenario), humiliation kink, dirty talk, reader used to be affiliated with p.sh, orgasm denial + fingering, ass + pussy slapping, slight mentions of lee heeseung & sim jake...

» w.c: 11.5k (no wonder why it took forever!)

» a/n: would like to apologize for the delay!! but, it's finally here. please let me know if i should do more enha works.

» taglist: @indigoez @jakeswifez @aanniikkaa @slut4hee @heeknow @rairaiblog-blog @no1likeneo @d-dilemma @soobingf-blog @shuaxzcake @mingyuslice @heelovesmeknot @mitmit01 @hpnsfwaddict @jooniesbears-blog @pasteltheghost16 @goodforgyu @sunghoonsbigcoketip

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"Why do you have to leave?" With a droopy face, you annoyingly complain- yet again -to your mom about her rude decision of abandoning you.

She rolls eyes- yet again -at your antics and continues to put up the last bits of groceries, "It's a simple work event, Y/N. I'm not sure why you're being so stubborn right now. Plus, you used to love when Sunghoon and his mother came over."

You shudder at the mere mention of his name, "That was before he became such a stuck up fucking prick-"

That line earns yourself a disapproving, 'Y/N!' and in turn you retract your statement with a couple of half-assed, 'sorry, sorry'.

Though, in your head, you knew you held back from saying worse things.

Your mother sighs deeply as she finishes shoving the last few items into the fridge before spinning around to face you, "I'm not asking a lot from you, just entertain the boy or something while we're out. Is that really too difficult?"

She lets her question hang in the air for a second, then proceeds to move from the kitchen to the living room. However, if she thought she could escape you, she would be dead wrong. Because you're not far from her in step.

"Okay, new question." You propose which earns another groan from Mom. You stop in place when she leans over to dust the couch off with her hands, " Since you and Mrs. Park are carpooling to the event, I understand why she's coming here. But does he really have to come too? Why can't he just stay at his own damn-.....d-dang, house?"

When she straightens herself out, she bears a look of plead in hopes that this is truly the last of your inquiries, "His mother is the one who suggested it. And if we're being truthful, you and Sunghoon used to be so......" she pauses, looking for the right word, "....so cute when the two of you were close."

A hand flies to your mouth as you internally gag at your mother's words. Cute? Maybe 10 years ago, when you both were still in elementary. But that was before he had the chance to grow into his unbearably horrid of a personality.

Granted, you partly blamed his high school friend group for his abominable transformation. While, yes, you did agree that Sunghoon just naturally held the asshole gene, you were also certain that hanging around and slinging dicks with stupid Sim Jake and stupid Lee Heeseung, surely wasn't going to help this fact either.

Disgusting pricks. All of them.

You lower your hand slowly, "Please don't remind me of that time."

"For the love of-" She excuses herself from your vicinity and struts back into the kitchen, "Honey, I don't understand how you could be acting like this. I thought once you two went off to university together, things would be different by this point."

Oh. It's different alright.

Instead of the harsher stares he used to simply give in high school, Sunghoon has upgraded his abrasiveness to terrible comments directed towards your character. Any chance possible, the two of you would butt heads even more than your previous encounters. On campus, in passing, at parties; if you saw him anywhere, you just knew something would be said.

On top of that, it also doesn't help that his buffoon bunch of friends followed him to the same college as you. And, you had to see them everywhere.

You figured once you came home, you could enjoy a week of internal peace. Free from the many stressors that come with university. Now, your mother seems to disregard any of your warnings and wants to let the main stressor inside of your house?

"Can I add as well," she speaks up in the absence of your voice- you had been too busy pouting- "I know the two of you share the same English class, and according to his mother, he's been excelling at his papers."

At the insinuation, your mouth drops agape, however, she disregards the reaction and continues on, "You can ask for some pointers from him."

"Absolutely not." There was no way that could've been an option. Firstly, you would never hear the end of it from Sunghoon: ‘Oh, you want help from me? I didn’t realize you were so awful at this,’ and then it probably would’ve been followed up with, ‘Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised. You’re not the…brightest person I’ve met.’

Annoying bastard.

He would never let you live that down, and frankly, you didn't want to give him anymore ammo to shoot you in the face with. Henceforth, that couldn’t be an option. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Your mother regards you intently, and slowly begins to shake her head. She couldn't do it anymore, didn't know what more to say; a wall has clearly been put up and you are as strong as steel, not letting anything through. As she's left puzzled on how to refute your statement, a ping from her phone catches her eye briefly.

She casts her gaze downwards, keeps it there for a few seconds, and then she's looking back up at your contorted face.

"Well, sweetie,” a strained smile begins to spread, “You should probably fix that attitude of yours. They just got here." The doorbell ringing acts as a nail in the coffin, confirming your mother's words.

“You’ve got to be-”

She interrupts your complaining to tell you to get the door, so she can run upstairs and grab her purse. You're quick to bellow out a groan, but she's even quicker to shut that down, and instructs you to do it immediately while half-way up the staircase.

Once she disappears, you amble sluggishly towards the front, and as you're about ready to swing it open; a long, harsh breath is exhaled from the other side followed by a grumble.

"You better be nice to her or I swear Sunghoon...."

It's Mrs. Park, who's voice seemed to have a combination of both sincerity and aggression laced in it. Your eyebrows furrow, listening harder.

"Yeah, yeah. Be nice to the brat, I heard you the first 4 other times." He finishes with his own irritated huff.

Your expression goes wide at that. Is he fucking serious? Did he really just call you a brat? You. A brat? You're mind relishes in disbelief.

"Sunghoon!" His mother responds with, and more indistinct talking arose. However, while their voices grew quieter your annoyed levels skyrocketed. You begin to think that it's quite plausible….someone might die tonight.

"Y/N! Did you grab the door yet?" Your mom yells from her bedroom.

You do a double-take as you match her volume, "I'm doing it right now!"

Unbolting the locks, you pull back the piece of wood to reveal a very eager Mrs. Park, staring at you with smiley eyes. Sweeping your gaze right, there stood the ever straight-faced and stoic Park Sunghoon.

Even as you do a once over at his appearance- black hair fringed on his forehead, hands shoved into his long, sleek coat, and black sweats that barely poke out from underneath -you find it so, incredibly jarring that this came out of the always cheery Mrs. Park.

He didn't even try to smile, unlike you who beamed out a grin towards them, "Hello Mrs. Park! It's been so long since I last seen you.”

Dissimilar to her son, Mrs. Park is ready to envelope you into a warm hug. She extends her arms out and the two of you intertwine in a genuine and comforting embrace.

"Oh! Y/N! It truly has been a while," when she draws back, you watch her scan your face with an affectionate smile, "You just get more and more beautiful every time I see you." At the last second, she peeps over towards her son for encouragement, "Right, Hoonie? Doesn't she look lovely?"

His impassive eyes regard his mother, then ever so leisurely does he drag them onto your stature. The moment eye contact is made, you shift anxiously. Because why the hell is he looking at you like that?

You start to play with the hem of your oversized hoodie, which flowed nicely into your oversized sweatpants. Anyone with eyes could tell you’re not dressed for company. Hair messy from laying around, hardly any make-up on.

Clearly, you weren’t expecting anyone today. Nonetheless, someone who took so much pride in his appearance. You almost felt jealously from it. Like he’s somehow proving the point that he’s better in almost every way- clothing included. It’s infuriating.

With a single look up and down, Sunghoon cocks his head slightly before giving his answer, "No."

Intense bickering between mother and son start up, and you're left standing with a twitching eye of vexation as already you sense your patience running thin. Your fingers curl inwards to form a fist. It hasn’t even been 30 seconds and you feel like punching him.

"I am so sorry about him, Y/N. I don't- I don't know what his problem is..." She stops midway to address another mumble from the boy. The two have a minor quarrel this time, and then she’s back to focusing on you, ".....ah, may we come in?"

It takes your full strength to squeak out an, 'absolutely', despite your innate feelings. With a step back, you widen the door to appear more welcoming and the two of them step inside of your house.

Mrs. Park instantly calls out to your mother, with her shouting back at Mrs. Park, and when it's Sunghoon's turn to walk past, you couldn't help but notice the somewhat aggressive breeze he emits as he pushes through you.

A part of you could’ve sworn you also heard him mutter something in passing, but regardless, you decide to let that go instead of calling him out. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, you hope to soothe the ever growing nerves that’s been caused so far.

Remember, self-control. Right, that is a thing and you are more than capable of exhibiting it. So, keep your cool. Try not to blow up. At the very least, if not for yourself, then for the sake of both your mother and Mrs. Park.

Yes, for them. You can do this for them. Just simply don’t engage and all will be well.

You repeat this to yourself a few more times as you close the door. All will be well if you let it be. Now feeling better, you flip around to see your mom make a descent back down into the living room, a purse now dangling from the crevice of her elbow.

She sashays up to Sunghoon’s mother, and the two women squeal in delight as they engulf one another. It’s admirable how much they care for each other, proving why they became such good coworkers then friends. You also find it adorable how similar their outfit choices are, with both of them sporting a dark blue dress.

Once they part, your mother turns her attention over towards the previously brooding boy. Though, you find it interesting how Sunghoon seems to have an easier expression now.

"Sunghoon, you're too tall! How am I supposed to reach you?" She gushes while brining him in for hug. A light chuckle dances out of him, and after a brief second they're pulling back from one another. Mrs. Park jumps in on the conversation about her son.

They begin to go on and on about all of his accomplishments; 'Oh! Sunghoon I heard you're doing excellent in your courses,' and, 'You are so involved with the community, it’s wonderful to see that someone’s trying.’ It’s sickening to see the immediate chokehold he has on the women, you observing the conversation emotionlessly.

After their near 20 minute rant (or what felt like it) finally your mother remembers your presence and decides to rope you in. She ushers you to come closer, and after a hasty back and forth, you scoot only mere inches into the circle, closer to him.

"You've been scoring well on your essays, Sunghoon, isn't that right?" Your mom starts and you want to scream right then and there.

He affirms her question with a swift nod, "Yes. I have."

"I don't think he's gotten below a 91 on his papers." Mrs. Park chimes in, and you secretly curse your mother for where this topic is about to go.

Your mom's eyes brighten as she looks over to Sunghoon, "That's amazing to hear. Actually, I think Y/N could use some tips on a few of her past works. She's been getting marked off on nearly every single one of them and could use the help!"

He hums in amusement, raking his eyes until they rest on your scowl. You feel his stare on you as you cross your arms and side step away from him, "Was that necessary to bring up?”

"Oh," your mother waves a dismissive hand, "Nonsense, sweetie. I'm sure a few pointers from this one will help raise that C- you have."

"Mom!"

Before you could object any further, a gasp leaves Mrs. Park's mouth and quickly she’s pulling your mother off to the side. She just remembered some news from work. While the two women chat, you’re left to stand idly, eyes darting off to the side while a wave of quietness engulfs the air. Sunghoon remains silent, as well.

You sure as hell hadn’t planned on talking to him and if that meant silence would be bestowed, then so be it. It’s for the better, anyways. You’re trying a new approach at things, and if you're forced to converse with him, you’re afraid it’ll lead to someone getting choked out. Not you, by the way. So…to avoid conflict, silence it is.

A short sigh from Sunghoon interrupts your thinking. You do a quick glance up at the..irritatingly tall boy, and see his gaze is turned all the way left, side-profile on display for you. He must’ve picked up on your hostility, which is why he has not said anything, you believe. Good. He should know better than to get you riled-

“You have a C- in that class? Are you serious?”

Perplexed, you raise your eyebrows from the sudden outburst, “Excuse me?”

Is he really trying to start this right now?

He keeps his head faced away from you, then at the last second he twists it back and you see a new expression dawns on him. That of complete arrogance, “English Literature is a stupid easy class. I’m surprised to hear you’re doing poorly.”

As you open your mouth to shut up him, he proceeds further with his berating, “Then again,” he lets out a dry laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked that you need me. You’ve always fell short when it came to academics.”

Sunghoon watches your face morph into pure anger, and as sick as it may be for him to admit it, this is where he finds true enjoyment. In the reactions you always give in the moments you feel wronged.

You do a short shuffle as you feel yourself releasing the chains of self-control. You knew he would act this way. He always does.

“Okay, so I’m not doing well,” you state matter-of-factly, “So. Fucking. What? I’d rather have a shitty grade in this class than beg some snobby prick for aid.”

You tried to hold back.

At the sudden drop of name calling, a bitter grin erupts onto his lips, “Like you deserve my help.”

“For the record, I never asked for it,” you throw a hand up as new found confidence starts to build up in your core, “But trust me. If I really needed you, then I would make you fucking help me.”

His eyes widen from your accusation, “You really think I would tend to you? Knowing your unruly attitude?” Disbelief switches onto his face, his thick eyebrows creasing together uncomfortably, “God. You’re such a brat.”

And just like that, you hit a snapping point. Without wasting another second, you begin to hurl every insult in the book his way, your rage boiling past whatever containment you thought you had. He’s ready to argue back at you when a light shriek stops both of you mid sentence.

"Oh, we need to get a move on it. I didn’t even realize the time. It’s about to be 7.” Your mother comments and you almost retort it with a snide remark on how inquisitive she's been about Sunghoon's life.

Mrs. Park trots her way towards the door, saying her final goodbye to her son along the way. Your mother shares her own words of departure, though it's mixed with your protest on her leaving.

"Alright kiddos, we'll try not to be too long." She speaks with one foot out the door, "Y/N, please treat our guest kindly."

You give the boy, who's now walked up and standing to the side of you, a deathly glower, "Get him the fu-"

"Y/N. Kindly, please." She reiterates with a sweet bite, and to that you could only sigh defeatedly.

Mrs. Park is not far behind your mother as she twists to address Sunghoon one last time, "Honey, please be-"

"Be nice, I know." He finishes in a sort of annoyed tone. Though after that, being nice is the last thing she would need to worry about.

With more reassurance, the two women give each other a passing glance, and soon after another round of goodbyes, the door closes shut.

Leaving you trapped here with your absolute nightmare.

With a deep groan, you stagnantly turn towards Sunghoon just as he’s twisting his body to reluctantly face you. Peering up through your eyelashes, you make absolutely sure he feels the unwelcomed signals radiating off of you as you go to speak.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

His eyes roll nearly out of their sockets as he starts to slip off his coat, "What happened to being kind to your guests?"

He mocks the words that were handed to you, and your eyes narrow while watching him hang the jacket on a nearby rack.

You notice his shirt of choice- now on display -is a tight black T-Shirt, curving and outlining all of the spots you hate the most about him. God, you think you just got even more annoyed.

Turning your nose upwards, you start to inch closer towards the staircase, "I couldn't care less about that, if I'm being completely honest." You do a full twirl so all Sunghoon can see is your back, "Here’s what you can do: either entertain yourself in the living room or get the fuck out. Choose whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve me.”

He goes tight-lipped. You are just the epitome of an ungrateful little brat, holy fuck. Sunghoon shoots his vision away with a brief head shake. Despite his growing emotions, he knows it will be better to not engage. He really didn’t feel like fighting with you right now. Like how you both always manage to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunghoon begins to walk slowly towards the couch, his upper muscles flexing with every step, "Whatever. I'm not dealing with you tonight."

That makes you halt in your tracks. Dealing with you? What? Like you're some untrained puppy?

"No, I'm not dealing with you tonight,” you sneer back then scoff, retreating upstairs once again, “Just fucking stay down here and we won’t have any more problems.”

His back hits the couch cushion with a flop as he starts to call out to you, “Right. It’s not like the problem isn't taking itself upstairs at the moment!"

Oh, that touched a nerve. So much so that you find yourself shouting from the second story, having made it up there a few seconds prior, “You should’ve just stayed at your own fucking house!”

"Do you ever stop fucking talking?” He raises his voice back at you; maybe not quite to the extent of your screaming, but nonetheless you could hear him from upstairs.

Upon entering your room, you slam the door shut with all your might. You swear you even felt the floor shake from the force. Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe your emotions currently. You’re at a whole new level.

You're fuming. Chest huffing, fists clenched, ooh- you've never met someone who irked as badly as fucking Park Sunghoon had.

Why? Why? Why did he have to be in your home right now? Why did your mother think this was a good idea? And why did he have to look so nice with his stupid shirt and black joggers?

You begin to pace around your room.

He's messing with you, clouding your head with complex thoughts. If there's one thing you loathed most about the boy downstairs it's his ability to turn your brain to mush.

It's like all thoughts and rationality fly out of the window, and instead is replaced with....just nothing. Nothing but anger, resentment, and a tiny bit of something else however you're willing to suppress that for the time being.

You bring a thumb up to stroke your lip. Mind racing, your brain starts to piece together what you should do to alleviate this stress. You're going crazy, you recognized that, and you’re certain a distraction is needed for you to get your thoughts cleared.

As you think back to all that has you feeling so jumbled, a sudden surge runs throughout your core. No. You know what your body is attempting to do. And it’s not going to work. Even as another hits you and makes your thighs clench unwillingly, you hold on to your determination.

You can’t do it, you tell yourself. Especially when Sunghoon’s downstairs. It’s ridiculous. Unfathomable. There is no way you would…..

Moments later, you find yourself completely and utterly naked in your bed, deciding the best way to calm down is by having a….release. Your pulses started became too unbearable to ignore, leaving you with only one option. This option.

Is it the most convenient method of stress relieving? Well, probably not. But, truly, in times where you’re free to strip bare and dish out a quickie, you always find it leaves your mind feeling blissful.

And you desperately need that right now, because in all honesty, you aren’t sure what the hell you’re feeling right now due to Sunghoon.

As your brain is beginning to wonder, you absentmindedly brush the backs of your fingers against your lower stomach. Park Sunghoon. The name is like poison in your head, and you can’t find the damn cure for some reason.

Your hand drops a little lower. Thinking back on your most recent argument, you remember the eye contact you two held, before forcing yourself to break free from his gaze. You tilt your head, the memory becoming even more clear. That damn gaze.

…..if only he could use it from a different angle.

A sharp exhale flies out of your mouth as you realize you’ve made contact with your clit. You’re lighting swarming around the area while it continues to throb enticingly. A different angle? Like….one where he’s in between your legs, staring at you with those stupid fucking know-it-all eyes.

Your body responds well to that imagination, your hips slightly bucking into your hand to garner some friction. Would you two be on the bed? No, you think you like the idea of getting him on his damn knees and making him eat you out nice and slowly while on floor…a whole lot better.

He’d tried to take control, you already know his arrogant ass would. Yet, in reality, you will be the one calling the shots. If he starts to suck a little too much for your likings, one hair tug and he’ll slow down. Cause he’ll listen to you, you’ll make sure of it.

A small smile cracks out onto your face, focusing deeply on your sprouting pleasure. Yeah, you like the Park Sunghoon in your imagination a lot better than the one real life. Your fingers are now circling the bud, producing ripples of sensation that keeps your movements and thoughts going.

He’ll keep his attention fixed on you the whole time he’s devouring you, you assume. Because if there’s one thing about Sunghoon, he’ll love to see you come undone at the cause of him. Would love to see that sexy ass face you make right before you orgasm.

And the way your thighs will squeeze around his cheeks so perfectly, oh fuck him. He’d get so fucking horny from just tasting your sweet, sweet pussy.

Shutting your eyes, your vision explodes with images of your lewd thoughts, playing out your ideal fantasy. You can hear yourself start to whimper while your pelvis becomes more sporadic in the way it chases the coming feeling.

At the minute you tell him you’re close, he’d latch onto your clit, no plan on stopping. Scratch that, he probably couldn’t stop himself from finishing you out. You’ve been treating him so well up until this point. Letting him cum inside you, in your mouth; the least he could do is give you a head-splitting orgasm.

You rub your soaking cunt all over the palm of your hand, desperation coursing through your veins. Imagine annoying little Sunghoon, who’s only wish is for you to cum. To cum all over his face, down his own throat. He’s on his knees below you because he wants the full effect of seeing how much you’re letting yourself go from his tongue.

Then, with one long sucking motion, you’d fall apart. With your orgasm hitting you dead on your clit, you’d start to quiver on top of him while screaming out, ‘So fucking good, So fucking good. Fuck, you’re making me cum.’

Your hand speeds up to have you cumming alongside your scenario, your own real orgasm washing over you deliciously. It leaves your body stuttering and eyes rolling back into your head as you continue to work at your pussy during the duration. And all you could think about was how much you fucking hated stupid Park Sunghoon.

Once your high comes down, you firstly lay in your bed to recover. That had to have been one of your best and strongest impromptu session. Fuck, did you enjoy every part of it.

True to nature, as well, your mind is so foggy from the haze that you can’t even recall your earlier fury, which is now replaced with a more simple feeling: lust. You bask in the warmness that’s spreading and also give your cunt a chance to get desensitized, before swinging your legs off of the bed and walking over to your dresser.

It was starting to get hot with your thick layers on anyways, which is why you opt for thinner clothes. You pull out a pair of cotton shorts that stop upper thigh on you, and then a cropped T-shirt for simple comfort.

Needing to wash your hands quickly, you swiftly run into the connected bathroom to your room, lather your hands in soap and soon you’re rinsing yourself off. When finished with that, you smile contently as you walk back to your bedroom and flop down stomach first onto the mattress.

You really did feel better. Your anger has subsided by now, the orgasm keeps your mind still a bit dizzy, there were no complaints to be had. Now, you planned on spending the rest of your evening locked up in here so you can continue feeling as such. Boom, simple as that.

A loud buzz from your phone on the nightstand has you scrambling to reach it, that giddy feeling not once leaving. Though, once you flip it over to reveal a text from your mother, you feel your smile drop immediately.

8:09 PM

Mom:

Hey sweetie, just wanted to do a quick check-in on the two of you. I hope everything's going okay.

You begin to type out a borderline aggressive message back, something along the lines of how everything was not going okay, but another message swooshes in before you could even finish your own.

After doing some rethinking, you don’t need to ask Sunghoonie for help anymore. It wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position without asking you first. You’re old enough to make your own decisions now, and if you think you’ll be okay without asking him for help, then you can decide that. I’m sorry for making you feel as if you never had a choice.

You stop your rant midway, and look closer at the message. Oh. Oh. Oh….

“Mom…” With a frown, you watch as yet another message flies across your screen, and you find that you’re a bit more accepting of this one.

8:14 PM

Mom:

But, I do want to make sure that you are trying with Sunghoon. I understand as of right now, it may be difficult to do so, you two are apparently quite hostile. However, I’m asking if you can extend the white flag, at least for tonight. Make sure he’s not hungry, maybe you two can put on a movie downstairs. Just try and be cordial, that’s my only request. Can you do that?

Stomach churning, you begin to gnaw on your bottom lip right now, those complex emotions rising up again. Dammit. You seriously thought nothing more would come out of this situation tonight. You thought once you had your….release, you would be able to relax freely without any stressors.

But then you reread her latest text, and guilt surfaces in your heart. Maybe…you haven’t been putting in as much effort as you could have; you did just leave the boy downstairs to fend for himself. Is it possible for you to set your very, very strong feelings and just…suck it up for the sake of your mother?

You were accepting of this feat earlier.

A quick scroll up has you revisiting the first large paragraph she sent you, the one that acknowledges your feelings. Your mother is trying right now, and you register that it would be unfair of you to not try as well.

8:20 PM

Y/N:

okay mom, i can do that for you.

You're downstairs before you know it. After many, many, many mental preparations, you now feel ready to be within the same space as the devi- Park Sunghoon.

Approaching your living room, the pale yellow lighting illuminates Sunghoon's backside, giving you a clear view of him. With one defined arm stretched out on top of the cushion, Sunghoon seems entranced with the movie playing on T.V, not appearing to have noticed your presence.

You shuffle your feet against the floor until you slow to a halt. In the span of your waiting, not once does he turn around. The movie must be drowning out your existence. Pivoting, you opt to round out the couch and stand in the middle for visibility. Sunghoon keeps his eyes trained forward. Surely, he feels your presence now, even if he may not be acknowledge it.

Sticking your hip, you gently clear your throat, "Ahem."

He throws a cruel glare over his shoulder before reverting back to his previous position, no comment to be left from him. You're standing still, okay then...

You dart your eyes away to view something else, then sweep them back over to his body, “Are you…hungry?”

A look of bewilderment dawns on his face as he shoots you a perplexed look, “Why are you asking me that? Wouldn’t you rather have me starve?”

“I-” you try to rebuttal his claim, but incriminatingly you start to avoid eye contact with him, “No. Not necessarily…”

Yeah-fucking-right. He highly doubts that's true. Instead of replying, Sunghoon turns back towards the television. Silence remains. You follow his eyesight to watch a couple of seconds of the movie. Well, so much for trying.

You continue to stand awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your torso and rocking yourself back and forth slightly. Just try. Just try. Just. Try.

"Park Sunghoon." You mumble out and he snaps his attention towards you. If not for your eyes lurching up to look at the ceiling, then maybe you would have noticed the surprise once over he does to your outfit.

“What?”

You look down again, and try to shake the embarrassment that’s clawing at you. Just try, “C-Can I watch this with you?” Holy fuck that felt harder to say.

Sunghoon squints his eyes as he tries really hard to figure out what the hell is your deal. Merely an hour ago, the two of you were having a screaming match, and now you’re fidgeting and asking to be in the same room as him….willingly?

He doesn’t buy that for a second.

He drags his pupils up and down your frame, his greedy eyes wanting to drink in more of it, but at the realization of what he was doing, he forces himself to look away. Willingly? Yeah, no. He figures your mother would be the cause for this. Only reason he says this: his own mom sent a text not too long ago telling him to try harder with you. And…it appears you are at least doing something.

With a rough sigh, Sunghoon decides to not say anything else, but rather signals you to sit down with a single quick head tilt. Your face grimaces at his cave-man like gesture, and although you went slowly about it, you do as he says and take a seat.

You snuggle deeper into the couch cushion, and allow your body to relax. You’re so used to being on guard whenever around Sunghoon, it feels almost natural to stiffen up. Letting yourself relinquish this tension built up in your muscles, you find it easier to keep your cool.

Dropping your arms to your side, you start to focus harder on the movie and less on the boy sitting next to you. Does it slightly freak you out that his fingertips are only centimeters away from your shoulder? Yes. But for the most part, you can sense this is….tolerable. As if for once, you don’t feel like biting Park Sunghoon’s head off.

Minutes turn into over an hour this movie has been on, and both you and Sunghoon have managed to not get into a single argument. You aren’t sure when the last instance of this was. Elementary, maybe? Regardless, you’re at ease.

Your arm is propping your head up as you watch the characters on screen. The movie, though you never asked for its name, was some romantic comedy. You picked up on this fact a few minutes into watching it. And, wow, were they intense on the romance.

You couldn’t even count the amount of make-outs that has happened since you’ve been watching. You almost want to say 8 so far- oh, make it 9 now.

The lead characters are on their 9th kissing scene, stumbling around and fondling one another in the bathroom at some house party. You watch closely, part of your brain now heightened. The male actor is kissing the female until her ass touches the sink, and then he’s hoisting her up so she can sit on the counter.

Your face contorts unpleasantly. The scene further plays out to where the girl is begging the man for sex, desperate to have him inside of her, and you feel your mouth go dry.

This is beginning to hit a little too close to home for your likings, with a dusted memory you swore to bury attempting to resurface. You push the thoughts aways. Not now.

Trying to ignore the random squeeze your legs do, you tell yourself to ignore the familiarities and simply focus on the movie. However, at the moment the man grips the the women’s throat and she moans intensely, you nearly freeze. Yeah, you can’t watch this anymore.

With an airy voice, you keep your eyes fixed on the T.V to seem passive, “Change it to something else.”

“What?” Sunghoon doesn’t glance over to you, also keeping his gaze forward, “Why?”

You scoff lightly. Why can’t he just listen to you? What’s with the interrogation? “You always ask so many questions. Just change it.”

To that he responds with nothing. You’re not giving him a proper response, so why should he listen to you? He remains engrossed in the movie.

When a few notable beats pass, you crane your neck over to his direction with a scrunched faced, “Yah. Did you hear me? I said put on something else.”

He briskly whips his head to meet your eyes, his dark eyes boring harshly, “I don’t care what you have to say. I’m not changing it.”

Fed up with him, you reach over to grab the remote when he obtains it first. You glare menacingly at Sunghoon, while he mocks your expression, then holds the remote high above, taunting you. His slender fingers harboring it only fuels your anger, which grows hotter by the second.

“Don’t piss me off.” You warn with undertones of a threat, as you climb over him to reach for the device. He extends it further away from your grasp.

“Or what?”

Bobbing the remote over your head, he just knew you were going to lose your cool at some point. That’s what all whiny brats do when they never get their way; they throw tantrums.

“Just fucking put on something else!” You scream, fighting him for the remote.

You don’t care if you can feel your shorts start to ride up into your butt, or if your boobs are being shoved up against Sunghoon’s body. You don’t care that you’re basically on top of him, trying to win this remote, because all rationality has exited your head.

You ask him to do one simple thing, and he fucking couldn’t. Then, he wants to tease you and make fun of you? You tried, you think back to your mother’s message, and in your mind the exchange begins to burn. You really fucking tried, but this…arrogant bastard just always makes it so damn hard.

He shakes the little strands of hair away from his face as he narrows his eyes brutally towards your squirmy body, “What the fuck is your deal? You’re telling me your whore ass can’t handle one god damn sex scene?”

This time you don’t say anything back to him, instead your intention remains on getting the fucking remote. He takes your lack of response as an opportunity to dig further at you.

“Really? You’re going to act like that?” He spews out more comments while continuously keeping the control from getting in your reach, “I find it hard to believe you’re freaking out-”

“Damn brat. You’ve been needing this fucking for a long time, haven’t you?”

At the line of dialogue, Sunghoon shifts his attention towards the scene being played out, one of which the girl is now bent over the sink with the man pounding roughly into her backside. And with the combination of the man’s words and the stimulating scene, his eyes widen as he finally realizes what the core problem is.

A wave of deja vu hits him. A few months ago, he had you in a damn near similar position to that on the TV, even saying similar phrasing. The two of you had been drunk off of your minds, resulting in the memory being blocked from his head.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles, letting his guard down, giving you the chance to swoop upwards and snatch the remote away. All scattered-brain, you press the power button and watch as the TV powered down.

“See.” You grit through your teeth, throwing the remote down in the meantime, “I told you. I told your dumbass to fucking change it. But, no. You didn’t want to listen to me.”

His own chest starts to burn with aggression at your words, and he looks over to you angrily, “Will you just shut the fuck up? My god, you’re so annoying.”

“What? Mad because I was right?” You fake a pouty voice, your eyes going all doey while regarding him before swiftly fixing your face, “I never want to think about that night, and here you go, basically parading it in my face. And based off of your reaction, I can tell you hate thinking about it too.”

Sunghoon sits up from off of the couch, and brings his forearms to rest against his knees. That night was full of mistakes. Jake inviting him to that dumb ass party, Heeseung feeding him back to back shots of some sort of alcohol. The kind of of alcohol that forces you to act on thoughts that otherwise would've been suppressed.

The memories all rush back to him. The moment he saw you at the party, laughing and dancing around in that tiny fucking dress. It was like right then and there, his views on you changed. Instead of dismissing your presence, he found himself drawn to it. Instead of ignoring the silhouette of your body, he allowed himself to watch every single part of you.

When throwing all caution to the wind and deciding to walk up to you, he remembers you being equally as wasted as himself. That hadn’t stopped you from throwing an immediate snarl at his approach, however. Although the interaction started with you two bickering, as always- the evening had ended so much differently.

He remembers it all. Moving from the main room to the bathroom, still jabbing insults at each other. How from one second to the next, your dress was now hiked up above your hips. The touching, the teasing, how hard the two of you came. The whole scene plays out in his head, and for some reason, Sunghoon can’t stop it.

You snide in another comment which breaks his thoughts, “Yeah, I guess I’d be mad too if I were you. You basically threw yourself at me and begged to fuck me. It’s pathetic how desperate you were.”

Now, you’re really heated. You rise to your feet in seconds and march over to stand above him, feeling reminiscent of your previous imagination. At the noticeable imbalance, the same satisfaction from earlier mixes with your current anger.

It spreads across your chest as you lour down at him, watching him bring a hand over his mouth, “For a change, you don’t have anything to say, is that why you’re silent? Did I finally get you to shut up?”

At the quietness that lingers in the air, you press further to elicit a greater reaction. Bursting out more and more taunts, you knew this is where you found enjoyment, watching him spiral and be confused by his own thoughts. You’re proud to make him feel just as perplexed as you were the whole night.

You’re ready to throw another insult his way when his tall body shoots up into the air, looming over you. His eyes are rage-filled, you can see that, and reactively you backpeddle just as he rushes closer to you.

“Y/N, I swear to fucking god. You’re going to make me lose my mind.”

For a brief second, your hard exterior falters. His warning is low- almost growl like. It intimidated you initially, but then swiftly you regain composure and stand your ground, “You make me lose my mind all the time. So what? You’re not special.”

You audibly hear his breathing, and it begins to sync up with your own heavy pants. Both of you are pissed, that much is clear. It’s just about who is going to crumble first. And surely, it won’t be you.

He’s got a crazy look to his eyes, “I’m telling you right now. Shut. Up.”

You knew better than to challenge him. You knew you should walk away and storm upstairs. Exit the situation before matters get even worse. Quite literally anything else should be done, than the actions you decide to take.

You close the distance between you both, smiling the whole time as he brings his head in to regard you. At the recognition of that sick, sick smile you’re showcasing, he too knew it would be over.

Your voice starts off quiet, whispering out a, “What will happen if I don’t?” before absolutely losing it in his face, “Just face it, Sunghoon. You're not the perfect person you portray yourself to be after all. I mean, fucking the person you hate most at a party? Even that's a new low for you."

You hover below his face, stretching your body tall until your noses are almost touching, "I'm tired of you pretending to be higher than everyone else. Always treating people like they’re twenty feet below you. You’re vile and I think it's time you realized.....maybe you're the fucking problem. Hmm? Did you not think of-?"

Sunghoon doesn't know what came over him. One second, you're throwing words after words at him, and next thing he knows, he's pushing you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

His veiny hands are curled around your neck, and your mouth hangs from shock at the sudden movement while he holds you firmly in your place. The pressure he's applied is not enough to significantly hurt you, he made sure it didn't, but was definitely enough to finally get you to stop talking.

You gasp lightly and your head feels faint.

"Do you…remember how that night started?" His tone is dark with his focus solely on you. You try bringing your hands up to pry him off of you, but he doesn't budge, instead going to answer his own question, "Because if memory serves me right, you were the one who was desperate. Desperate for this.”

This referring to the minor squeeze his hand does around your throat. He continues, "You were the one who kept testing me. Wanted to see what would happen if you made me angry enough." The gap between you two closes when he draws himself inwards, making sure you heard this next part clearly, "Someone needed to shut that bratty ass mouth of yours up then," He drops his gaze to briskly look at your lips then jeers, "And right now."

While you're left to wear a poor, helpless expression, Sunghoon couldn't help but eye you curiously. It should be laughable the new state you're in. So completely different from your previous attitudes.

Using his hand to guide you, he roughly brings your head forward, so his mouth can brush the outer shell of your ear, "You really pissed me off, Y/N."

You get shoved back against the wall with a wince. "And... maybe that was your end goal with all of these arguments. You wanted to get me to this point." At the recognition of his own words, the wheels begin to turn in his brain. His eyebrows dart upward and a devilish smile tugs at his lips, "And to that, you're going to regret saying even one word tonight. I'll make sure of it."

Before you can react, Sunghoon crawls his hand up until it rests below your chin. As his thumb releases from your skin, and slowly works his way up to your lips, you think he'll be gentle in the way he's getting ready to touch you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The moment his thumb comes in contact with your mouth, it's being shoved into your wet hole. You gag on the digit as he begins ordering you to suck, "Just needa fuck the bratiness out of you, then. Remind you of how much of a fucking slut you were for me that night."

He instructs you to go harder, and faster, and leisurely, you do so. Tingles start to form all around him, "Yeah. I'll do that. I'll just have to fuck you dumb myself, starting with your loud mouth."

You squeeze your eyes shut at the motion, coughing hard against his skin as his fingers move to tangle within your hair. Sunghoon always knew how catty you can be, this fact evident from what happened that night at the party.

However, what's also true, is that you do it for your own guilty pleasure. You purposely bring this upon yourself.

He yanks his thumb away and in return, you're inhaling harshly for air, "-what the fuck?"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries. Without warning, he has you falling to the ground with one swift push, his own desires now starting to throb inside his sweats, "Go on. Pull down my pants, brat."

He murmurs those words with a tilted face. In contrast, you look up at him as fear and lust begin to cloud your vision. Even with the menacing face he sports, you know you're not one to fully give-in. Especially when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

You aren't sure what it is about the defiance, but it makes you crazy, "Like hell-"

The grip in your hair tightens and your mouth drops from the pain. He regards your expression, "Really? Do you think you're in a position to object me right now?"

Lips parted, you shudder out a sigh while staring at Sunghoon's deep gaze. The stance he has you in makes your stomach erupt into butterflies.

"Pull my pants down." He repeats once again and after a pause, you eventually do so. With a tremble, you begin to bring both hands up and fondle the waistband, struggling to remove the barricade.

A tiny smile breaks out onto the boy's face. It's amusing how you pretend as if this wasn't the end prize. He watches you react disgustingly to his finally freed cock that springs forward, and it takes all of his power to not ram it into your ungrateful little mouth.

"What are you looking like that for? Aren't you a whore for my cock, Y/N?" He derides and thrusts himself towards your face. You try to create distance, but the hand in your hair keeps you in place, "Let’s go. Stop acting like that and take out your fucking tongue."

You hate yourself for listening to him.

With a small shiver, you unhurriedly extend your tongue from your mouth, and immediately he slaps his dick onto your muscle. He's had a great amount of pre-cum built up for some time now, starting from the minute you came down in that skimpy ass outfit. So, as soon as his dick hits your tongue, your taste buds are drowning in the liquid.

He's gasping lightly from the immediate sensation. He rubs his head all over your surface, then gradually does he start to slip himself in and out of your mouth. Your eyes go nearly white from trying to take his full length, but that’s something that only makes Sunghoon hornier.

You’re gargling around his skin as he proceeds to go faster, his base smacking against your chin every so often. Spit and his thick liquid mix to form a froth that starts to spill from the corners of your mouth, and Sunghoon groans lowly at how filthy you look.

“Oh…fuck.” It feels too good, the rocking of his hips speeding up. He’s enjoying the aggressive way he bucks himself harder and harder inside of your throat. And even as you’re thrashing beneath him, straining to get air, he finds that he didn’t want to stop. It just turns him so damn much to see you take his fat cock.

He throws his head back, “Keep it open for me. Fuck- just keep that nasty mouth open.”

You’re sick. Sick towards him for using you in such a degrading way, for letting him nearly cut off the circulation to your head. Right now, you’re nothing more than a fuck toy for him, and he doesn’t even seem to care. Not when he has you as the perfect fucking stimulant.

Yet, you’re also sick at yourself. It’s embarrassing that you notice your pussy clenching around nothing the longer he keeps this up. The fact that you’ve become so dilated in your core that gravity has slick juices leaking from your entrance. All because of this asshole that’s abusing your mouth, you're becoming aroused like never before. It’s humiliating, really.

His movements begin to stutter with a vibration to his eyelids. Oh, fuck. He can feel his cum wanting to shoot out. Sunghoon continues to push your head into him as he internally debates at what the outcome should be. There’s still so much he’s wanting to do to you, to prove.

When you can’t take the torture anymore, you’re soon hitting his leg to get him the hell away from you. Your reaction makes him realize how intrusive he’s starting to be, but he's so swirled with the immaculate pleasure that he almost didn’t let go. Before he knows it, he’ll be cumming down your throat at any moment.

Ripping himself from your suction, Sunghoon relinquishes you two from the torture. Ragged breathing emits from you as hungrily you take in the surrounding air. He, on the other, holds quieter breaths. A part of him is surprised that he was even willing to let himself finish so quickly. You were going to make him finish quickly.

With a few additional huffs, and after a moment of silence falls into the atmosphere, he’s ready to address you. Because he’s not done with you just yet.

“Yah,” There’s a gasp to his tone while you glare up begrudgingly, “You finally changed that attitude of yours?”

With your chest heaving up and down, you continue to stare angrily. Sunghoon cocks his head to the side while he awaits for your reply, though judging by the look you sport, he doesn’t think it’ll be the answer he wants.

“Eat a fucking dick.” With a hoarse throat, you spit the phrase at him.

And. Snap.

Before you know it, Sunghoon is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you over to the couch with a stumble. He tosses your body face first into the cushion and you land with a soft groan.

“Just can’t stop, can you?” He sees your ass recoiling from the previous motion and he swears it makes him go feral, "I'll just have to keep reminding you then."

In a flash, when you tried to push yourself up, he strikes a hand down to your cheeks. Your flesh jiggles with the audible slap and you're falling back down with a much louder moan.

“Did you like that?” Feigning stupidity, Sunghoon uses one arm to grab at your tiny shirt from the back, flipping you around till you laid chest-up sprawled out on the couch, "Do you want another?"

Eyes glossy with anger, you can’t help but whimper as he lands a harsh smack to your clothed cunt. He repeats the motion in a harder manner once again, and this time you’re fighting back. You wriggle to close yourself off from him, but he’s fighting to keep your legs open. He's clasping your clit.

Your arms move in for attack, though he’s able to immobilize your hands by taking them with one grasp and holding them above your head. You’re stuck now.

You squirm around, “I hate you.”

"Really?" unfazed by your words, Sunghoon simply gives your wet core a hearty squeeze, “Well, I’m feeling that might not be true.”

Staring smugly, he keeps his eyes locked on your frantic gaze as he sweeps your shorts to the side. Wetness coats the tips of fingers in an instant and he hasn’t even fully touched you. Fucking hell.

“Right. You hate so much.” Sarcasm oozes from his lips with every stroke his fingers give your pussy, and you’re left to do nothing but wiggle. He towers over your contorted body, loving how quickly he was able to put you down.

His fingers circle your lips teasingly before moving into your dripping entrance. He doesn’t waste another second in shoving his digits in and out of your hole, eyeing the way you struggle to keep a straight face.

“S-So fucking annoying.” You stutter out, trying your absolute hardest to not slip and give him any further satisfaction of knowing he got to you.

Sunghoon takes this as a challenge. Leaning in closer, he changes the angle his fingers hit inside your squelching walls. His fingers gradually increase in pace until you're seeing stars. He continues to ram his digits inside of your pussy as they grow wetter and wetter. He keeps this up. And soon, your face morphs from that of resilience to a more natural state, your eyes lowering.

Oh, god. Your body’s succumbing to him. It’s taking the pleasure produced by him and using it against you, dammnit it. What becomes worse is how your body begins to rock alongside his fingers, chasing the high that’s ever growing in your system.

You howl, “Fuck!”

His fingers feel like they’re hitting your g-spot and now you’re a mess. Thrashing and twisting below him while he finger fucks your way to an orgasm. Your toes curl in the feelings that’s wafting over you. You’re losing control.

“God, I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” You grit out through clenched teeth, eyes now tightly shut as you concentrate on his wicked pounding, “Can’t stand you. I-”

“Yeah? Yeah?” His questions are disingenuous. He wants you to keep going. Keep digging yourself a grave.

“Piss me of so- ah! Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop.” The words topple from your lips without a thought. Your hips rut harshly into his fingers, so greedily, so close to basically squirting. By any second you’re going to….you’re going to-

Your body goes cold the minute Sunghoon snatches his fingers from you, abstaining you from the arousal you'd been subjected to. Screeching, you bellow out a desperate cry from how empty you feel.

He bores a look of apathy, indifferent to your flailing, "What? Did you think I would actually let you cum? After your shitty attitude all night?"

Reaching down, he adjusts your rigid body into a more elongated position, then he's straddling you, "I just needed to get you ready. Cause now I want to destroy you."

You want to slap him, your face growing hotter by the second. This night, you've spent it feeling nothing but rage and lividness because of the boy on top of you.

But then he's working to uncover your breasts, playing and squishing them with both palms, and momentarily your facade begins to fade.

He's hunched over in the way he's needlessly gunning for your neck, biting and marking every spot he could. You squeal from the pain, and that only pushes him further.

He circles around the same throat he held previously to leave splotches of red staining your skin. It's in this moment of daze, his rapture begins to enthrall him, causing his cock to throb and throb until it's hurting.

Sunghoon works his way up, passing by your chin until he's aggressively making out with you. All of the pent up tension and conflicts feels as if they're being spilled out within the rough kiss, and you wrap an arm around him and mewl needily into his breath.

You still hate him, even if his annoyingly perfect lips mold deliciously into yours. You still hate him, even as he expertly touches and grabs at your tits, providing more stimulation to your already horny self.

But even you can't deny the desperate longing your body seeks as his thick, hard skin prods at the entrance of your shorts right now. And he can't wait anymore.

"Mmm, ready for me?" He mumbles against your mouth, though he didn't necessarily care for a response. Because even if you were to protest, he knew it would just be another ploy at deflection.

He's back to kissing you. The aggression that's brought along with it could be mistaken for passion and it makes you weak. Right before he darts the fabric off to the side and ready to take you whole, you pull back slightly, wanting to say one more thing.

"I h-hate you so much," you whine and he could only laugh. You truly never know when to shut up.

"You've told me that a couple of times." Muttering back, he recaptures your mouth and without wasting another second his cock finally plunges into your deep pussy.

Your walls immediately grip him, and the two of you groan simultaneously into each other. He did a good job at prepping you; you're beautifully slick and warm, just the way he likes it.

His cock starts to thrust rhythmically, relieving the ache you both were so full of. You can't help the string of grunts that fall from your lips, all chopped from each hit he gives your pussy.

"S-Shit." Sunghoon detaches his mouth from yours to completely bask in the arousal that's coursing throughout him. It brings him back to that night.

The night where you bent your sexy ass over for him, and watched yourself in the mirror as he smashed into your backside. He was on Cloud 9 then, but now coherent and in the right head space, it's like the pleasure has doubled.

You, meanwhile, are having an internal battle with yourself. Holy shit. It feels so fucking good when he's pounding inside of you. You swear you're gonna cum at any point. But, there's still this sense of revulsion that bubbles in the pit of your stomach- because of the fact that you're allowing Park Sunghoon to fuck you so roughly.

"H-Hope you know- mmrgh! This is a-all your fault." You stammer out, eyes shutting forcefully on themselves, "You always c-cause problems. You're in the- you're in the-"

A hand comes down over your lips and shuts you up, your face relaxing into a state of bliss. You aren't sure why you always jumble out nonsense when in moments of euphoria. It's just as if....he's...

"I said I would fuck you dumb," Sunghoon sighs as his back lurches over to grind into your cunt at a different angle, "Guess I actually did."

Your response is muffled and buzzes into his skin. There are no intentions of uncovering himself, either. No way will he let this indescribable sensation be override by your loud ass, bratty ass mouth.

His hips continue to drive harshly into your liquified cunt, squelching and dripping the more he fucks himself into you. He only gets faster while you begin to grow limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you until you don't have the willpower to move.

Sunghoon feels his cock start to twitch, "About to cum," he moans near your ear, "Can feel myself about to cum inside your dirty pussy. Are you close too?"

You shriek into his hand a multitude of yes's as you feel yourself so close to snapping. It's only a matter of time before you're losing control all at the hands of your actual worst nightmare.

He weighs his options, "Mmm....but should I? Do you deserve to orgasm with me?"

You'd despise not only him but yourself if you didn't. You're too far gone. The pleasure is catching up to you closer and closer, the more he buries himself damn near into your cervix. Waves after waves of ecstasy release into your core and you almost want to cry from how amazing it feels. So there's no fucking way you're going to miss this.

You never thought you would do this, but it's only a matter of time.

What sounds like your yes's transforming into pleads, Sunghoon scrunched his eyebrows, going to remove your hand. Are you....?

The moment your mouth is free you yell out a whimper, "Please. Please. 'm so close, Sunghoon. Sunghoon, please. I can't, I can't. I need this so bad."

Oh, fuck.

He'd never thought he'd see the day. He's never heard you beg before. The way his name sounds so good when you're pleading, how it squeals out from your lips. It makes his cock twitch once again and he's clenching his ass cheeks to stop him from popping a load right into you.

"You really want to?" He speaks quietly and more to himself, before deciding to give you what you want. Even brats can be rewarded.

He's pushing himself up and is now hovering over your face, his pelvis driving brutally into your core, "Okay. Okay, just let go. Cum for me."

You're so grateful you could kiss him. You let the slaps his skin produce fill you ears as you give yourself some slack for even letting this happen. You were about to cum because of Park Sunghoon, and there was nothing you wanted to do to stop it.

Sunghoon can't help but stare at your wavering face. Going from tight tension to relaxing and belting out a moan, your expressions keeps his eyes trained on you.

"Here, here. Faster, need you to cum right now." And almost like a present for you, Sunghoon brings a hand down to start massaging your clit, getting you to the very last point you needed to before exploding.

When his fingers circle rapidly against your nerves, combined with his pounding that has you babbling out nothing, your orgasm hits you so hard, starting from your pussy and running up into your head, making you dizzy. The moment causes you to starting quavering sporadically and mewing out, 'I'm cumming!'

That was what Sunghoon needed. Your orgasm causes your insides to start squeezing, pulsating around his cock so perfectly. At the third time he feels his cock beginning to twitch, he grants himself permission to let go. Next thing he knows, he's shooting out viscous ropes of cum into your velvety cunt, groaning about how perfect of a brat you are for him.

'Finally fucking listened'

'My perfect brat'

'God, you're amazing'

All is being said as you two finish out your orgasms. As he stutters above you, and you're quaking below him, you both seem to have finally found peace within being close to one another.

Which brings to an end this dirty, filthy night.

✧ ✧

✧

* ✧

✧

- Bonus -

Your mother and Mrs. Park hadn't intended on being back at the house past midnight. But, how were they supposed to know the company gathering would be such a blast!

The event had the women interacting, mingling, dancing, singing with every single one of their coworkers until around 11:30 PM! And that was only because the event was over around then, they surely still had some more juice in their system.

By the time the two arrived back at your house, they'd been laughing hysterically to one another, unbeknownst to the absolute chaos that had ensued just hours earlier.

Your mother unlocks the door with her keys, and as they swing it open, they're met with a surprising scene in front of them.

Sunghoon, all wide awake, and sitting on the couch by his lonesome. The T.V is there to keep him entertained, but other than that, there were no signs that you were around. As Mrs. Park goes to greet her son, your mother stares at the boy with worried eyes.

"Oh, Sunghoon. Were you down here by yourself this whole time? Did Y/N not come down?" She walks up to him, though is quickly mollified when he's giving her a small smile.

"No, she did. We watched a film together, though half-way through it, she started to doze off. I had to carry her upstairs; she was so out of it." He nods softly at the end of his sentence and your mother reciprocates his delicate response.

It warms her heart to hear that you tried.

"Oh, Hoonie! I told you things would work itself out if you would just be nicer to the poor girl. You know how timid she can be." His mother pats at his shoulder, "Come on. Grab your shoes and I'll take us home."

"I'm happy you guys were able to have a nice night together." Your mother beams while walking alongside Sunghoon towards the front door, "Are you two okay now? Should I be expecting you back here more often?"

Sunghoon regards your mother, his own brain thinking at how to properly respond to that. It's not until he's slipped his shoes and coat on, and holding the door open for Mrs.Park to exit, before giving a proper answer.

"Yes, Miss, I believe we're just fine now.”

At the last second of his departure, his eyes catch sight of movement on the staircase. Having awoken from your slumber, you heard voices from downstairs and decided to investigate. Creeping around the top stairs, all you were met with was Sunghoon talking to your mother with one foot out the door.

You attempt to remain hidden behind the wall, waiting for him to leave. But, soon, you find his gaze moving slowly until it lands onto your face. He holds eye contact with you one last time, your stomach in knots from how compelling his essence is.

“I'll try to come back here more often," He steps his other foot outside as a faint grin overtakes his cheeks.

"I’ll make sure of it.”

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