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sundaysconsort · 27 days ago

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Sunday theme?! 👀✨ohhhh

Can I request for sunday x ghost! Fem reader who is already with him since childhood, like she is Imaginary his friend, but she is still with him when he became astral express member.

She is someone who sunday trust about his secret and when he want to making a plan about the dream world, he search a solution to make fem reader can be alive again, he just want to thank her for be with him all these years . Ghost! Fem reader just feeling okay that she is not alive, she just want sunday to be happy thats all and when he became one of trailblazer member she is still there for him. Their feelings are mutual like romantic type.

Entry: " No Death May Do Us Part "

Pairing: HSR! Sunday | Reader

Information: You have been a figment of his imagination for as long as he can remember—a figure who comforts him during his darkest nights. Over time, he comes to realize that you are more than just an image created in his mind; you are something much greater. He is determined to bring you into his ideal realm. However, even he has limits, and you remain a beacon of light, guiding him on his journey. | 2.2k Word Count

Tags: Slow Burn, Tenderness, Mutual Pinning, Admiration, Hurt/Comfort, Self Doubt, Longing, Appreciation, Confession, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Ghost Reader.

Sunday was entangled in a haunting belief that he had lost you forever, cast away from the radiant paradise he had once envisioned—not solely for his people but for you as well. In the depths of his mind, that dream had imploded into fine, shimmering stardust, the weight of his perceived failure draping across him like a heavy, dark shroud. You, the spirited woman who had once curled up beside him as he poured his soul into the ivory keys of his childhood piano, had now morphed into a mere echo, flickering in the pits of his fading memory. Each frustrated note he struck reverberated with an ache, an attempt to breach the daunting chasm created by his tumultuous journey yet to come aboard the Astral Express.

Oh, how he longed to hear the familiar tones of your voice again, each syllable a soothing melody that played like a gentle breeze across his senses. Memories steeped, echoing in his mind like the sweet chime of distant bells, stirring feelings of warmth and joy that enveloped him like a cherished embrace on a cold winter's night. Those moments shared—conversations filled with love—wrapped around him, creating a cocoon of comfort that he yearned to revisit, reminding him of a connection that transcended time and distance.

“No death may do us part.'” This whimsical vow once uttered with joy between you and him as mere children, a promise made by the young boy version of himself and his 'imaginary friend', now holds a profound weight in his heart. The words echo through his thoughts, a haunting reminder of the bond you shared, intertwining your souls in a love that transcends even the boundaries of mortality.

He often found himself engulfed in a profound introspection, questioning the very essence of your existence. Were you merely a figment of his chaotic imagination, conjured by the loneliness that enveloped his heart, yearning for companionship and understanding? Or could you be something far more transcendent—a divine blessing from Xipe?

Nestled deep within the tangled labyrinth of his emotions, he battled with a bittersweet reality: you were a spirit trapped in a merciless limbo, a wandering ghost gliding through the lit streets of Penacony. The city, once a beacon of hope and joy in his mind, now felt like a deceptive paradise, a place where beauty was tinged with sorrow. Each corner he turned seemed haunted by echoes of you, intertwined with the melancholy of your fate, leaving him to ponder the fragile line between longing and despair.

Though you never overtly revealed your fragility, he felt it in the weariness of your fading existence, the way your spectral form flickered like a fragile candle struggling against the suffocating embrace of encroaching darkness. He clearly recalls the precious moments when you reached out, yearning to wipe away his tears with your trembling hands, only to find that the effort was always too monumental, an insurmountable challenge. You appeared sorrowful, yet fiercely determined, lingering in a half-life, steadfastly remaining by his side, your voice a whisper that trailed behind him, echoing encouragement and heartfelt concern throughout his childhood.

What fascinated him most was how you seemed to age gracefully alongside him, your essence maturing within the fabric of the realm you existed in. Sunday ached to rescue you from the twisted chains of solitude that ensnared you, to liberate you from the cruel fate that had snatched away your life. As vivid memories of youth and giggles surged back, he held them close to his heart, even as he wrestled with the heavy burdens of guilt and regret that had haunted him since embarking on the Astral Express. All he could have done better.

Sunday carries a deep-seated disdain for the person he once was, haunted by the echoes of his past mistakes and shortcomings. Yet, he knows you possess a remarkable heart, one that sees beyond his flaws. One that is capable of embracing the possibility of redemption. You chose to care for him despite his imperfections, recognizing the strength they reveal in him. He is no monster. Perhaps this clarity comes from the innocence of youth, a belief that genuine goodness can emerge from even the darkest struggles. You, too, saw the beauty in his dream—a vision of a better world that he strives to achieve. Every day, he tirelessly searches for a way to manifest that dream, no longer for the ideal of Penacony, but primarily for you and his dearest baby sister. The two most important elements within his life.

After enduring defeat and comprehending the repercussions of his actions��how his misguided intentions had led to the suffering of those he cherished—he decided to pursue his own redemption. He yearned for the chance to apologize to you, to communicate his deep gratitude for the tenacious companionship that had stitched together the fragile seams of his heart. Once, you were two innocent souls intertwined by fate, and the question that nagged at his mind was: where could you be now?

Days bled into nights as he roamed the streets of Penacony, driven to conceal his identity in a land he once governed with authority. His heart was heavy with the fear that you might still be waiting at the piano you once shared in a place he nostalgically dubbed home. The mere thought of you, patient and hopeful as you had been in your shared childhood, tugged insistently at his heartstrings. How could he bear the burden of knowing you possibly lingered there? Were you destined to remain trapped in this twilight world? Is this separation punishment for his failure to embrace harmony? Amid all the struggle, he sought order under the guidance of Gopher Wood—ultimately a grave miscalculation that ensnared those he loved in his misguided vision of paradise.

He desperately dreamed of creating a world where you could take tangible form.

Upon his return to the express, a twist of fate awaited him. The lobby lay enveloped in shadows, an eerie silence wrapping around him like a thick fog until a familiar, haunting note drifted through the air like a ghostly breeze. It flowed gently, beckoning him toward its source. As he approached the empty piano bench in the Express, he was astonished to see your faint image—a vision of focused concentration, your hands tremulously grazing the keys, having difficulty applying enough weight.

Relief washed over him like a gentle tide, melting away the icy grip of doubt that had tightened around his heart. As he looked at you, sitting across from him, warmth flooded his being. Your presence radiated a beauty that seemed untouched by the passage of time, each feature as striking as he remembered. It was as if, in his darkest moments, your image would materialize to guide him, no matter how far he roamed.

"'See? Just let it flow out of you, like this,' he heard you softly murmur to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of cherished memories. You sensed his presence nearby, and a wave of sentimentality washed over you. He had spoken those very words to you—each syllable a soothing balm that lingered in your mind. 'You can do it too. Come, give it a try.'"

As your gaze intertwined with his, the atmosphere transformed, charged with an electricity that sparked in the air. Everything around you faded into a soft haze, the vibrant colors and distant sounds melting away until it felt as though you were enveloped in a warm silence. In that suspended moment, it was just the two of you—intensely connected, as if the universe had conspired to freeze time and hold you in this perfect stillness, face to face once more.

Your focus returns to the piano, fingers dancing across the keys with grace. A rich tapestry of nostalgia wove itself around you, the melody resonating deeply within both your hearts. The sound fills the room, echoing off the walls, each chord a brushstroke, a masterpiece of emotion, painting the atmosphere with warmth and yearning.

"...this song is familiar to me; I believe I've encountered it once before," Sunday said, his eyes widening with a mix of nostalgia and wonder. It was as if he had been whisked away to a simpler time, a time when every sound carried a hint of magic. He looked at you, a faint smile playing on his lips, as the weight of time momentarily lifted, letting him relive those precious memories that felt so far away yet still lingered in his heart.

"A long time ago, you taught me how to play it," you replied, a gentle smile blooming on your lips, illuminating your ethereal form with a warmth that reached out to him, even from the veil separating your worlds. "I had time to practice while you were busy this passing year. I'll admit, I did miss you..."

His brow furrowed in thought, a hint of sadness shadowing his features. "I see… though I have little recollection of this melody in particular," he confessed, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a forgotten melody.

"I'll teach you," you assured him, your smile unwavering—a beacon of hope amidst the shadows. At that moment, the distance between your two worlds felt as fragile as glass, shimmering with the potential for connection. You reminisced with each note, your bodies almost touching; the warmth of his physical presence starkly contrasted with the coolness of your spectral form.

As if attuned to the unspoken doubts rolling through his mind, you felt compelled to address the silence that hung between you. With a gentle tone, you spoke again, instinctively grasping the complexity of his emotions and the weight of his unexpressed words.

"You are not obligated to carry the burden of my circumstances, Sunday. My deepest desire has always been for you to follow the path that resonates with your heart, rather than succumbing to the expectations of your family or the pressures of Penacony. More than anything, I want you to find true happiness in the choices you make and to embrace the life that fulfills your soul." It was a bittersweet blend of past and present, memory and longing, as the music continued to flow, bringing your hearts together once more.

You didn't crave an apology; that wasn’t what mattered to you. Instead, what you truly yearned for was simply his presence beside you, the warmth of companionship that brought comfort in moments of uncertainty. You understood that sometimes words were unnecessary; it was the connection that counted.

"And if the one I have been seeking, the bearer of my deepest desires, is the very person who can grant me that fulfillment, would she too share this feeling?" Amidst the enchanting melodies that surrounded him, Sunday made a solemn vow—to find the way to restore your essence so that you could finally embrace him as he had always longed to experience. "Would you, in turn, reciprocate my feelings?"

As you shift your position, a soft sigh escapes your lips, carrying with it a mix of longing and tranquility. Your faded hand gently rests atop his, fingers hovering close, as if trying to form a bridge between two worlds. The room is thick with unspoken emotions—a silence that feels charged, one where every heartbeat resonates with the weight of your connection. Though you can't touch him like another living soul might, a spark of hope flickers within you, illuminating the space between your hearts like a gentle flame in the dark.

"Of course," you reply, your voice steady, woven with warmth and an undercurrent of yearning. You sense his gaze shift towards you, eyes filled with an emotion that’s both tender and penetrating. He raises his free hand to brush the air between you as if he could touch the essence of your spirit.

Sunday smiles, a flicker of vulnerability dancing behind his charming exterior, his eyes momentarily betraying a depth of feeling that goes beyond mere charm. The soft glow of his halo seems to shimmer with ethereal light as if it were reflecting his genuine affection for the moment shared between them. “Then let’s not let this moment slip through our fingers,” he suggests, his voice steady but warm. “Can we promise to hold onto this? To each other?” His words hang in the air, inviting a sense of commitment and connection that feels both fragile and profound, urging them to embrace the bond forming in their hearts.

You take a deep breath, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest. The air is thick with anticipation, and a sense of the unknown hangs tantalizingly in the space between you. "More than anything," you say, your voice steady yet infused with emotion, "I want to explore this… whatever ‘this’ is, together." The words linger, heavy with possibility, as you meet his golden gaze, hoping they share your desire to uncover the mysteries that lie ahead.

His eyes soften, revealing a glimmer of paradise within their depths. The warmth of his gaze envelops you, making your heart flutter as if dancing to an unheard melody. "Together it is, then," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress that fills the space around them with an electric tenderness.

At that moment, the world fades away—the worries, the noise, all of it dissolves like mist in the morning sun. There's a palpable connection as if their souls are intertwined, each breath they take syncing in a rhythm that feels both exhilarating and comforting. He shifts closer next to you on the bench, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky, banishing shadows and illuminating everything in its path.

Every heartbeat reflects the promise of shared dreams and whispered secrets. The piano, once the center of attention, now stood silent and neglected. In that moment, you both felt an unspoken connection—two kindred spirits intertwined in a bond that transcended words.

A/N: I hope this was to your taste! Ended up finding inspiration from other series, including Anohana and Wuthering Waves for this. I'm not the most satisfied with this, but I'll leave you to be the judge of its quality. I hope you enjoyed it. <3

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soombee · 2 years ago

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🫂 ｡ﾟ⊹ you’ve built a home in my heart — a ni ki smau！ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 m. list !

— ni ki x reader !!

:: u got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street. for your inconvenience, you quietly opened the door to meet a peculiar sight, someone trying to sleep on the floor across the hallway because their roommate has their gf over .. ?

“ i guess i'll lend you my couch for the night. ” ☆

pairing // non - idol ! ni ki x non - idol ! reader

— i mostly used @ sullendin on ig for yn !!

warnings ? swearing, kys jokes, playful bullying, nothing much atm !!

status : finished !

taglist : closed !

profiles :: hoe life or no life || enhypen

01. microwaved strawberries…?📝

02. mission ‘find his socials’ is a go !!

03. munch munch munncchh?? {pt1}

-> munch munch munncchh?? {pt2}

04. a pretty stranger .. 📝

05. the feminine urge to frustrate a man

06. neymar jr #10 📝

07. goodnight lover ( loser ** )

08. not cheating on u yet

09. playing dumb ? 📝

10. drunk confessions 📝

11. nishimura dumbass riki📝

12. nishimura tloml riki ^///^

13. swimming beauty 📝

14. beating the bitch boy allegations

15. who's the bitch boy now ?! 📝

16. rent free 📝

adventures of ynki ‹𝟹 — YBAHIMH xtras !!

ni ki against the world ;c

drama queen ni_ki …

expose thread (GONE WRONG!!)

the freakcident!!

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lutewife · 1 year ago

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Ok so request thing it can be headcannons or one shot I don't really mind and feel free to ignore this up to you!

Husk x reader where the reader works at the bar with him

gn!reader, bartender!reader, fluff, mutual pining, talkative!reader, old people in love

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and being drunk, obviously. Otherwise pure fluff.

Notes: Of course I can do it, anon! You're so polite, thank you for your consideration 🫶 I didn't know if you wanted it romantic or platonic, so I did romantic, since I love romance and unfortunately couldn't manage to do a Valentines special :( I added a few things, like reader characterisation, cause the request was kinda short and brief, I hope it's not a problem! And since you were nice I did both headcanons and a one-shot!

You and Husk worked together at the bar for a long time.

Or should I say, you were forced to, since you both made a deal with Alastor.

Including you, Husk and Niffty in his shenanigans was a norm, cause it's not like you could say no. What's worse was he took a bit of a liking for the three of you (maybe because of sheer amusement).

At some point, you just accepted your fate and rolled with it, trying to have fun while doing so.

Unlike Husk. He was a born pessimist and being happy was not something he was especially good at. Though with you, he seemed a bit more playful and sarcastic.

Mimzy often made fun of you two, because of your very different attitudes, but also similarities, like your love for alcohol (or rather drinking away your sorrows).

Every single resident of Hazbin Hotel (Alastor's new "investment") thought you were basically made for eachother, since you were perfectly making up for each others flaws.

Husk was more of a listener and you were more of a talker. When there weren't any customers to serve, he just listened to your yapping for hours, never getting bored.

When there was a customer though, they were certainly going to have fun talking to you. It was never boring when you were around. Husk's quiet presence was needed too, especially when someone just needed to vent.

What made you different from yourself as banterders, was your way of preparing drinks.

He focused more on the taste and if the liquor was strong or light enough for the person he was serving it for and you focused more on the presentation and the way of making the drink. You always had some tricks up your sleeve and amazed everyone.

If you fucked up with your little show, though, Husk always cleaned up after you, without saying a word.

After a long day, he often poured you two a drink. You sat on the other side of the counter in silence, enjoying each others presence. You didn't even need to tell him what you wanted. At this point, he just knew.

Husk also knew that he could trust you, mutually. Not only with making a nice drink, but also in everything else.

He and you knew one another's weaknesses, secrets and past, but there was a silent understanding between you, that when something like that was said, it was never mentioned again.

Past was in the past, the present is happening now. It was something you both agreed on.

Although what you haven't admitted to eachother, was that for decades you have been hiding a massive crush on one another.

Someone once said that opposites attract. Well, it was certainly the case for you two.

At first almost everyone thought you were dating. Your feelings are so obvious.

But not for you two...

It was the time of closing again.

You were spread out on the counter and tired as fuck. Your constant tricks and talkative behaviour were sometimes exhausting you a little too much. Husk knew it, that's why he didn't really feel the need to ask. He just quietly accepted your difference and tried to cheer you up, in his own way.

As a muffled groan of tiredness escaped your lips, you suddenly felt something cold against your forehead. Groggily opening your eyes, a sight of Husk holding two glasses of pure vodka was seen.

- Good work today, kid - he just said plainly, holding out one of them to you.

You didn't know why, but the bartender really liked to call you "kid", although you weren't that much younger than him. Well, you didn't exactly mind, since it made you feel young again. You just rolled your eyes at his weirdness, smiling a little and gladly took the drink.

- Thanks, old man. What would I do without you? - you played along and Husk smirked at the hint of sarcasm in your voice.

Then he looked down at the counter with a thoughtful look. You raised your eyebrow at that.

- You're thinking of something dumb again, aren't you?

The bartender just shrugged, not seeming to care about your opinion and proceeded to lift himself up on it.

- Oh, for fucks sake, I knew it - you shook your head, pretending to be irritated and moved away to give him space.

With a grunt, he managed to sit down on it. You fought the urge to clap for his achievement. But just as he took a sip of his vodka and was about to jump down, a loud groan escaped his lips.

"Oho. It's starting." You just thought to yourself, snorting.

The, as you stated correctly before, old man laid down on the counter, still holding the vodka, seemingly in pain.

A loud "UGH!" escaped his lips and you tried to hold back your laughter.

After some time of trying not to choke on your drink, you finally asked:

- You done?

- Yeah, I'm feeling perfectly fine, thank you for fucking asking - he just stated with his usual low voice, looking at you and pretending to be hurt by your lack of worry.

Typical Husk. Always trying a little too much to cheer you up, even at his expense. It was the usual.

But the thing is, he wouldn't act like that for just anyone. You knew. Yet, you still doubted.

Was it from your natural closeness? You've worked with him for years, always having a good relationship.

You were... Friends.

He had other friends too, but he wouldn't act that... Soft and playful with them. This... Touchy.

So the question is: did he want more?

Did you want more?

You shoke off the thoughts, realising you definitely got lost in them for much longer than expected. Your lips were hurting from nibbling on the glass too much.

Husk, who was still laying on the counter, although a little closer to you at this point, seemed worried about your behaviour.

- Huh. That bad? - he asked rhetorically, partially to you and to himself.

- No, it's... I've been just thinking... - you looked away, giving him a vague answer, so not fitting for you.

Usually, you would just help him get up, still smiling and in a better mood. Both your hand and his paw in direct contact, you would feel his soft fur... Sometimes he pulled you down with him on purpose, summing it up with an unapologetic "Whoops".

Maybe you just didn't experience physical touch for too long, but it made you feel...

Just like a teenager again.

Like you were still a human child, experiencing their first crush. The butterflies in your stomach, your soft, flustered smile; it hasn't changed. Maybe you lived your life once and fucked up. But these little moments after working your ass off and then being cheered up by someone you were truly content with, it was priceless.

It is pretty corny, isn't it?

Demon feeling like they still have a heart of a human or maybe some parts of it.

Well, it was certainly strange, but it felt good.

That good, in fact, that you needed to express it.

Without a second thought you leaned down, looking Husk in the eyes. He raised his brow, the worried expression dissapearing. Maybe you would just smile and play it off like a joke, like you always did?

But you didn't.

You didn't even talk. Your actions spoke.

- What're you... - Husk felt conflicted and suspicious of your silence, but he couldn't finish his thought.

Your hand was drawn to the bartender's cheek and your lips pecked his forehead. It was quick and almost felt like nothing. There was a small chance he wouldn't even notice it.

But he did.

When it came to you, he felt everything. Even the lightest touch, the softest smile.

But just as he was about to say something, you stood up, stretching, as if nothing had happened.

- Oh my. Look at the time. We sure did outdid ourselves. Hell of an alcohol break - you snorted at your little joke and just as you were to flee, as you always did, a hand grabbed you from behind.

It was Husk, standing. Huh. So he could get up by himself afterall.

- You must be shitting me. The night is still young, kid. - his unreadable expression quickly curled up into a smile - Care for another drink?

End notes: Hope you enjoyed this lil' thingy, anon! And I hope I did it right, since I haven't been writing Husk much. Old people in love is my favourite type of romance ever, so I needed to include it somehow hahaha If you wanted something else, please request again when the requests open, I will gladly oblige! Until next time. Stay tuned!

#hazbin hotel x reader #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fluff #mutual pinning

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emperor-starscream · 5 months ago

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[REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!]

ESCAPISM AU !!!

Hello hi, this is just gonna be a big info dump and headcanon dump for a silly aftermath of what happened after the Law of Talos Tournament!! Hope u guys like it ^_^

After this is just the explanation of my au that I created with one of my partners!!

Karl has a large distrust of Climber but he doesn't hate him. He thinks he's weird, definitely and the feeling is mutual.

I'm having loads of fun with this honestly!!

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nivtee · 2 years ago

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: ̗̀➛ FEMININE. roronoa zoro

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

fluff ! mutual pining ! flirting ! university / sports team!au

zoro likes the look of the new cheerleader who can't keep her eyes off him

it had been exactly a week and three days since you'd moved to the grand university, and your new life was turning out much different than you'd espected.

exactly three minutes after walking into your first class, you'd learnt almost everything about the red haired girl currently on your right, and had already agreed to try out for the cheerleading team.

nami, the read head, was extremely friendly and never let you go anywhere on your own, and due to just how large the school was you'd never been so greatful.

shaking your head, you paid attention to the way your skirt flittered slightly around the top of your thighs, the bike-shorts underneath peaking at the bottom. the uniform was orange overall with white accents, the skirt sitting just above your hips and the top cutting off just below your ribs.

nami, who was already dressed and ready to go, had been helping you set your hair right. this was the first game of the season and you were, understandably, nervous.

"stop frowning, you'll crease your foundation." nami flicked you in the forehead slightly, kicking your shoes towards you.

"i can't help it." you sat on the change-room bench and changed your socks, making sure to keep your feet off the ground until you placed them in your shoes. "i've never done anything like this, nami."

"you're a natural," she sat beside your and threw an arm around you. "besides, people won't really pay attention to you much since you're on the side." you let out a sigh and smiled at her.

"okay okay, we're gonna be late, c'mon!" grabbing her pole, which she used in the routine, the two of you made your way towards the stadium.

"nami!" you glanced towards nico robin, one of the taller girls on the squad, before looking back over to the field, where the school's team was wandering over to the three of you. nami had her arms wrapped around you, trying her best to warm you up. the rest of the girls had gotten used to the cold win, but you had yet to. "give me a kiss for goodluck?"

"not a chance, sanji. don't you have a game to prepare for?" blackleg sanji was one of the boys who nami had tried to keep you away from, claiming that while he never really overstepped boundaries, he was obsessed with women.

"i can always spare a minute or two for my girls!" he winked, his eyes rolling over to you. "oh-ho! who might this pretty thing be?"

"none of your business, sanji! go away" nami took her arms from around you and pushed on his chest, leaving you just as cold as before.

you all watched them interact, sanji thanking nami for speaking to him and her responding by kicking him in the shins. you shivered, pulling your arms around you.

your routine had gone perfectly, and the entire squad had congratulated you on it, so your nerves were no longer an issue. however, the tips of your fingers turning blue happened to be.

the horn sounded before you could think, and the boys raced over to the middle of the field, nami happily skipping back over to you.

"hey, is that zoro's?" it took you a minute to realise she was looking at you, pointing at the jacket that sat around your shoulders. you hand't even noticed it, but now that it was slung on your shoulders you felt much warmed and shoved your hands into the pokcets.

"who? i'm- i don't even remember putting it on." nico rolled her eyes at you.

"he put it on your shoulders before the horn sounded." you lookaed around the field and then glanced back at her. "he's got the green hair." you glanced out on to the field in time to see zoro wink at you before turning back towards the game.

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x yn #zoro x reader #zoro one piece #zoro x you #zoro x yn #✎dosiewrites #one piece #nico robin #nami one piece #blackleg sanji #fluff #oneshot #mutual pinning

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corvuserpens · 28 days ago

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A Girl, An Ocean {A Black Sails fanfic} - Ch. 6

Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: None Characters: Billy Bones, Hal Gates, James Flint, Jean DuBois, Mr. Logan, Mr. Muldoon, protagonist OC, supporting OCs Relationships: Billy Bones/OC, Hal Gates/OC (paternal), Jean duBois/OC (bffs) Additional tags: Original character-centric, first person POV, canon character x original character romance, self-discovery journey, kinda alternative prequel to canon, canon compliant, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting sweetness, cute but also sexy, angst galore, found family, Hal Gates has two children now, canon typical violence Series: Part One of Six of A Girl, An Ocean Chapters: 6/13 Summary: At last, the crew arrives in Nassau and Constance gets to see it for the very first time. However, the experience is somewhat spoiled when the crew is called for one of the most dangerous and tedious labors a pirate must endure: careening.

Author's note: Originally, I had a particularly dramatic scene in this chapter written in a completely different way, and then I realized it was completely bonkers because of physics and had to change it 😅No matter. I ended up enjoying this version far better.

Chapter vi.

About a week later, we finally made landfall.

It was a foggy morning, as so often seemed to be the case. The sun had just begun its traverse through the sky, struggling to peek through the thick veil of mist, which rendered the sky a milky tone of white. The sea was calm, with small peaks of foam dotting her vast expanse here and there, whilst the Walrus' keel cut through them like scissors on silk.

At the helm, Mr. de Groot informed me that the island should be within sight any time, now. He gave me leave of my lessons to go climb the shrouds and search for it, even lent his spyglass so I could scan the horizon.

My heart pounded with anticipation. Despite the chilly breeze propelling us forward, my blood ran hot in my veins. Many were the stories I had heard of New Providence Island, each more terrifying than the last, so embellished and impregnated with legend that it became blanketed with an aura of myth. From England, it seemed so distant, so far away from my own perception that one could almost be forgiven for believing it didn't even exist.

But now... Now, I was about to see it with my own eyes.

As the hours passed, the mist dispersed. Sunlight forced its way through the wisps of cloud in bright beams, making the water glitter like jewels. Sea birds followed our sails with great cries, our very own welcoming committee. I noted that the usual smells of the sea were beginning to mingle with something else – wood smoke, tar, spices. Smells from land. I swerved the spyglass around more avidly, searching... searching...

And then... I saw it.

Nassau.

With a gasp, I scurried down the shrouds and ran along the railings, toward the bow. I gave poor Mr. Folsom a scare; he nearly choked on the apple he was eating.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelled. “What's the damn rush??”

But I didn't stop to reply. My whole body was crackling with energy. Using my recently developed agility, I hopped onto the forecastle, past the rails and crawled along the bowsprit on all fours until I could grab onto the ropes connecting the sails to the foremast. I was risking a fall that would most certainly get me trampled by the ship's unstoppable hull, all so I could take a closer look.

Behind me, I heard dispersed laughter from the morning watch, no doubt amused at my childish excitement. It would be at least one more hour until we entered the bay and dropped anchor, but I didn't want to miss a single detail of that moment. I sat and straddled the bowsprit the whole while it took for the Walrus to approach.

Slowly, the featureless line of brown and green became more discernible. The first thing I noticed was the fort: a stone structure sitting on top of a tall hill, the sentry that would protect the town and its denizens from invasion by sea. Those smells I'd sensed so faintly, earlier, became stronger. At last, the settlement itself came into full view.

Nassau Town was unlike any place I had ever seen before. Here, there were no grand monuments of granite and marble - instead, tents and rickety wood structures dotted the white sand beaches. From a distance, the people were no more than ants scurrying about, and although I couldn't distinguish any of them individually, I could hear them. The racket coming from land was a constant droning of countless voices mixed with music played from de-tuned, old instruments.

And the smells... Spices and tar, but also roasting meats and drying fish, cracked and stale wood, freshly pressed sails, obnoxious perfumes, human bodies, all of them combined into a single odor that belonged only to Nassau. In the years that followed, and after countless adventures lived, I found that there was nowhere else in the world that smelled the same. It smelled like decadence and depravity. It smelled like home.

I could hardly wait to get on a launch and explore it.

However, my plans of running around town and soak it all in were about to get cut short. The anchors had barely gotten wet when Mr. Gates' voice thundered across the deck: "Listen up, you band of lubbers! Before you rush off toward the brothel, let it be known that you are all to report for the careening by eight bells to beach the old girl." A wave of groans followed these words. Since I had no idea what careening was, I turned to Logan with a furrowed brow. "He means bring the ship ashore to clear the hull of marine growth," he explained dejectedly. "Takes a long fucking time and it's rough work."

"Now, I know that's not what you want to hear," Gates conceded. "But you know as well as I that a proper and regular cleaning makes all the difference when we're on the hunt. It means a swifter, faster ship, which leads to better hauls and more gold lining your pockets that you can then piss away in a day or two with women and booze." That got a roiling cackle out of the men. Once again, just like that, Mr. Gates was able to shift the mood from a resisting force into something constructive. Whether the credit for it lied with the quartermaster's talent to mold people's minds at will, or the prospect of even more gold, prostitutes and rum, was hard to say.

The crew went out by order of seniority, which meant that, as the most recent recruit, I was stuck at the very back of the line. I paced around the deck like a woman possessed, pestering everyone with questions, crawling up and down the masts, making sure I had everything I needed to bring with me to land (which wasn't much, anyway). It was only half an hour, no more than that, that I had to wait, but it felt like an eternity.

Either way, before long I was in the water with the other newbies, including Jean, and we rowed together to shore. The closer we got, the more my senses were overwhelmed by the chaos of it all. Wherever I looked, there was something happening, something worth paying attention to, something disgusting that made me gag, something that filled me with wonder. I must have looked like a child in Christmas, surrounded by all that novelty, incapable of choosing a single thing to unravel and inspect furthest.

Next to me, Jean sniggered. "Your head is like a banner in the wind. You best be careful not to snap your neck!" I smiled from ear to ear. "I know, it's just... There is just so... Everything is so much, you know? I've never seen anything like it."

"Oui, I know. You never forget your first time in Nassau." Jean let out a wistful sigh, recalling his own experience with a nostalgic smile. In a matter of minutes, our group was on the jetty and spread through town. The sheer amount of goings-on was dizzying; I scarcely knew where to turn! Thankfully, I had Jean there to ground me and keep me from getting lost. He led me through the confusion of bodies, tents and objects of every kind like a veteran.

Once we found ourselves right at the center of it all, he stopped and turned to me. "So. Where would you like to start?" "Oh, Jesus, I don't know..." I spun around slowly for a moment, overwhelmed and at a loss. Not a minute ago, the jetty was behind us, but now it was nowhere in sight. I was irreparably turned around. "Where do you normally go?"

Just then, Muldoon and Logan emerged from the confusion and stood by my side. They traded a cheeky look that immediately made me regret asking anything. "Of course," I sighed with a shrug. "Stupid question." "Yeah, you really set yourself up for that one, didn't ya?" Logan snorted. "THAT may be a little too much for your Ladyship's sensibilities," Muldoon joked. "Fuck you," I snapped back. God forgive me, I was getting far too comfortable with profanities.

He patted my shoulder and nodded for us to follow him. "Let's start with the tavern and we'll go from there. C'mon." The tavern, as it turned out, was like a microcosm of the street: loud, bustling, ever-shifting. The only difference was that it was much more cramped - we literally had to shove people out of the way to even get to the bar. And it was stuffy in there. The weather in and of itself was hot enough, in the Bahamas; couple that with the human heat and the smell of sweat in that room and suddenly one knew exactly what a pod corn felt like boiling in a pot.

Still, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. People laughed and drank and played cards, or told each other about their latest conquests or traded gossip. The wooden furniture and open windows with their hand knitted off-white curtains blowing in the lazy breeze made the space feel cozy, almost homey, especially as the servants passed through the narrow space with trays full of steaming food.

When we finally reached the bar, Logan ordered lunch for us while Muldoon, Jean and I found a table. We ended up having to share it with a group of four already occupying most of it, but from the way my shipmates greeted them loudly, it was evident they were already acquainted. Muldoon didn't even have to ask; they invited us to sit instantly, shuffling around to make room for our group.

At first, I felt somewhat like an intruder, but the man sitting at my right, a burly one with arms thrice the width of mine and a bushy greying beard, offered me a tankard of ale with a warm smile, like we knew each other for decades. In a matter of seconds, I felt myself relax, for something in my gut told me I could trust him, that he meant no harm. I accepted the ale and took a swig to quench my parched throat. Although bitter, it was cool and satisfying in that intense heat.

The man patted my back with a laugh, and even if I almost choked from how hard he hit me, I joined in on his contagious laugh. I had never felt so accepted among strangers, so welcomed.

"That there is Hammer," Muldoon told me. "So named because he's good at using a hammer, whether to build or to crack a skull open, but mostly because he likes nothing more than to get hammered." A burst of cackles rattled the table. Hammer, not one bit offended at the jab, offered me his meaty hand, which I was going to shake, until he leaned down and placed the gentlest kiss on my knuckles. "A pleasure, m'lady." It was such an honest gesture, genuinely sweet and unassuming, that I had to giggle through a blush. At least he had manners, unlike some other pirates I knew.

"Nice to meet you, Hammer. I'm Constance."

Jean tapped my arm. “Look, over there. Here comes the Pirate Queen.”

I stretched my neck to see whom he was pointing at.

From the back of the room, a petite blonde lady crossed the tavern with the haughty gait of nobility. What she lacked in stature, she made up for it in poise; while she passed by our table like we weren't even there, she struck me as much taller based on her confidence alone. Men twice her size hurried out of her path and greeted her with utmost respect.

Long skirts covered her legs and her hair was done up in complex coils, but from the waist up she wore a vest over her blouse and a cravat, like a man. I couldn't help to notice how beautiful she was.

“Who is that?” I inquired after she was gone.

“Eleanor Guthrie,” Logan answered. “She's the boss, around here. Her father used to be in charge, but after the Rosario raids, he fucked off to Harbour Island and she took his place. All trade on the island goes through her. It's thanks to her that we get to earn a living stealing off of rich merchant ships.”

“How does she do that?”

“We come in with our cargo, she stamps the Guthrie name on it and sells it to the colonies as if it were legitimately obtained.”

“It's the worst kept secret in the Bahamas, so I'm told,” Jean muttered. “But while Mr. Guthrie lines the pockets of the governors, the magistrates, the colonels and every other navy officer in on it, they won't lift a finger to accuse him. Everyone gets a piece of the cake, so to speak, and that's how we stay in business.”

I arched my eyebrows in incredulity. So that was the real issue with Nassau and her pirate scourge. It wasn't the pirates themselves; it was the corruption. And for as long as that corruption remained out of reach of the gavels in Whitehall... The problem would continue unresolved.

And now, I had become part of that problem.

I smirked to myself and drank some more ale. I once heard Folsom say something like, one man's trash is another man's treasure. In this case, one nation's problem was another woman's solution.

My solution.

I prayed that the corruption ran rampant in Nassau for many centuries to come.

*** After filling our bellies with roast pork, potatoes and a generous but not exaggerated amount of grog, our party returned to the beach to board the Walrus and steer her to a careenage - the steep beach we would use for the endeavor of beaching our ship. Normally, the maintenance of the hull and keel was made on a dry dock, but there wasn't one in Nassau, so we had to do it the hard way.

The way Logan explained the process of what we would be doing was something like this: during the high tide, our longboats would row in the Walrus until the keel touched the sand. Next, those on land would pull her further in. The ship would then be tilted at an angle on her side and the masts tied down to trees or whatever else was rooted firmly to the ground. Lastly, during the low tide, we could clear the hull of seaweed and barnacles with scoops. When one side was done, we would bring her back into the water, turn her around, and repeat the process. When both sides were done, she would be ready to sail again.

Careening could take anywhere between a few days to weeks. Everything that wasn't bolted down to the ship needed to be brought out, guns included (which we could use as anchor points in the absence of trees). What could be repaired would be brought to town; everything else was disposed of. The more Logan elaborated on the whole exercise, the least I looked forward to it.

When we arrived at the careenage, the longboats were already taking advantage of the tides to bring in the Walrus and a small crowd waited in the shade, while others bathed themselves in the sea to cool off.

Somewhere to the side, a tent was being erected. I noticed a small flock of scantly clad women sat near it, fanning themselves and fluttering their long lashes at any sailor who passed by. As we dropped on the cold sand beneath a palm tree, I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my stomach.

"Muldoon?” I said. “Who are those women?" He twisted around to look over his shoulder and gave me a shark-like grin. "Never you mind that. You probably wouldn't be interested, anyway."

I arched an inquisitive brow at him. "Interested...?" "You don't know that." Logan gave the other a playful shove. "Maybe she is into it and just doesn't know it yet. Don't knock it 'till you've tried it." "Oh, so you admit you've tried it with a bloke before?" Muldoon chortled. "I knew you were secretly queer, you bastard!" "No, I didn't say that!" Another shove, this one harsher than before, though it only made Muldoon laugh louder. "You know I only have eyes for Charlotte. In my case, I don't need to try it to know I won't enjoy it. A man knows these things." I turned to Jean while those two bickered. His face was flushed red, but I assumed it was from the heat, nothing more. Still, he was unusually quiet. "What the fuck are they talking about? And who's Charlotte?" He cleared his throat and refused to look at me whilst he scratched the back of his head. "Um... Well, you see, those women? They were hired from the brothel. Charlotte is... well..."

"A prostitute." Muldoon stated, plain and simple. "That there, is what we in the industry call a fuck tent." Now I was the one with a burning face. My mouth hung open in shock as I stared first at him, then at Logan (who winked and wagged his brows suggestively) and finally at Jean, who could do no more than glance sideways in my direction.

I had never heard of such a thing. It was scandalous! And yet... I was not at all surprised. Of course pirates would have something called a fuck tent.

"Oh." I huffed.

To their credit, Logan and Muldoon stifled back the need to laugh at my ignorance and lady-like mannerisms. "I suppose we don't need to explain what it's for, do we?" I shook my head. "No, thank you."

An hour latter, the Walrus was ready to be hauled ashore. Billy Bones divided us into lines across the beach so we were ready to receive the cables tossed to us from the ship. I was placed along the foremast, somewhere in the middle, between Logan, behind me, and Jean, at the front.

After verifying that everyone was in position, Billy joined the line at my left and wrapped his hands around the tether. "Aright, everyone ready?" He shouted.

In response, the crew gave a loud and unison 'Aye!'

"That's what I like to hear. On my mark!... Two, six--" "Heave!"

As one, we pulled on the cables. The sand shifted beneath my feet and I almost stumbled, but managed to remain firmly on them while tugging. Although the effort was great, since it was well distributed I found no difficulty to it. Not at first, at least. In a steady, continuous rhythm, Billy barked: "Two, six--!" "Heave!" Another strong tug. "Two, six--" "Heave!!" I screamed as loud as my voice and lungs permitted. Surprisingly, it did help make the exercise easier.

"Steady!" Billy adjusted his grip. His arms bulged with each pull, making the rolled up sleeves of his shirt strain under the stress.

Quickly, I turned my attention back to my task.

"Slow and steady!” He repeated. “Don't tire yourselves out!"

"C'mon boys, put your backs into it!" From the mizzen mast lines, Mr. de Groot's roughen voice reached my ears, encouraging the men.

For every pull and every step, the Walrus crept up the beach, a hulking beast that towered over the crew, ready to devour us. As I looked up at her massive hull and far-reaching masts, I felt tiny and insignificant before such a marvel of wood and rigging. "Oh, wow..." I swooned, awestruck. "Constance!" Billy called. "Get back to work!"

With a startle, I realized my grip had gone slack with my distraction.

"Sorry!" I scrambled to get back into the rhythm.

For God knew how long, we persisted on this almost Sisyphean task until the Walrus could go no further up the beach and our bodies could take no more. The job in itself wasn't so bad - it was the unrelenting sun and the heat. Swear dripped down my chest, my forehead, my back... everywhere, really! It got in my eyes and made them sting. My skin was so hot, I was about ready to rip it out with my own fingernails.

"Hold!" Billy commanded.

We pinned the balls of our feet into the sand and held the ropes in place.

I gripped my share with both hands close together, which strained my shoulders and back to the breaking point. With gritted teeth, I prayed the riggers would be quick with the lashes so I could finally let go.

"Psst! Constance!"

I looked back to Logan, who held on in a completely different posture. So did everyone else, in fact.

"Like this." He twisted his body to the side, just enough for me to see what he was doing. His feet were spread evenly apart, one in front, the other back. Likewise, he maintained his right hand in front of him, but the left was tucked close to his side, to keep the rope over his hip in a subtle angle.

As fast as I dared, I adjusted my pose to match his. Immediately, my muscles sighed in relief, while the cable remained secure. "Like this?"

"Just like that." He grinned with approval. "Feels better, doesn't it?"

"Much," I agreed, smiling back. "Thanks."

Fortunately, the riggers worked the ropes fast and swift, so we didn't have to wait much longer. Billy oversaw their task from his position while practically hanging off the cable like my uncle Charles' pet Capuchin, using his sheer weight to keep it taunt.

He whistled to get their attention. "All good, there?"

“We're good!” I heard Folsom confirm.

"Everyone! Release her, slowly! Slowly..."

Little by little, we let the tethers loose and hoped the anchor points would hold. I felt the hemp coils gently slip from my grasp, chafing my skin, and then it stopped. Up on high, the masts groaned in protest for a few seconds, and finally went quiet.

Still, for safety, we kept our fingers wrapped on the cables for another minute. Apart from the wind on the palm fronds and the lull of the waves, an eerie silence hung heavy on the beach.

When nothing happened, we collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good job, lads." Billy said, signalling for us to let go and relax.

I massaged my back with a drawn out breath, then my thighs. I wasn't the only one; most of the crew complained from their arms and legs. Some simply let themselves flop on the sand like flounders. I myself felt tempted to do the same, but somehow managed to stay upright.

I'm gonna be so stiff, come morning, I groaned internally. And we still had to take care of the barnacles. Lord have mercy.

As I straightened up, I saw Billy walking among his mates to check if everyone was alright.

"Take a break while I divide the shifts," he said, just as he ducked under the cable at my left and passed our line by, one man at a time. When he reached me, he gave my shoulder a gentle touch and arched his eyebrows in a mute inquiry for my well-being. I nodded to let him know I was fine and he moved on. I turned to watch as he and Logan clasped their hands in a brotherly exchange and kept going, further and further away from me.

For some reason... I felt appreciated by that quick, yet meaningful pause to make sure I wasn't hurt. So did the others, I imagined. No wonder he was so loved by everyone. Frankly, he made it easy to like him.

"Thirty minutes, no more!” He warned once he reached the last man on our file. “Let's see..."

All around me, the crew began to dispose of their vests and shirts, unceremoniously. I could hardly blame them - their clothes were drenched with sweat and their faces were red from the effort, the heat and the booze they had likely consumed before presenting themselves for duty.

My borrowed shift was all humid as well. The way it stuck to my skin was so very uncomfortable, even as I pulled it away from my torso.

I followed Logan and Jean toward the water barrels for a much needed drink and saw they too had their backs bared to the sun.

"I wish I could do that," I hummed.

Logan snickered. "I mean, you could, if you really wanted to. No rules against it, here. It's not like none of us have never seen breasts before." The heavy layer of hope in his tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Dream on," I bit back while I poured a cup of fresh water. The feeling of it down my dry throat was like a balm on a burn, instantly relieving it. As soon as the cup was empty, I scooped up another.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, then moved off to go find some shade.

Jean smiled timidly at me, then cupped his hands in the barrel to drench his face and neck. Once he was cool and satisfied, he sighed and leaned with his hands on it.

“Want to go dip our feet in the sea?” He offered.

“Hmm, let's.”

We went down the beach and walked out until the waves lapped at our ankles, close to the knee. Just our luck, a drooping palm tree had taken root near the water line, the perfect shelter from the sun.

I closed my eyes as we stood beneath its wide fronds. I don't know how long we stood there, just listening to the ocean and drinking water, but honestly? I could have stayed there in silence with my friend until nightfall.

“Feels nice, doesn't it?” He murmured.

I peeked from one eye. He had his closed, too, plus his hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers. I shut both lids again and smiled. “It does. One of these days, we should come back during down time and just sit right here.”

“There's a great idea,” he chuckled. “We bring something to eat, some good ale, proper attire to go for a swim, if we want. Mon Dieu... I would want for nothing else.”

On that, I completely concurred. The soft breeze blew my hair to the side and brushed my neck deliciously. I pulled it out of my shoulders, pinned it down on top of my head and almost moaned. I could sense the excessive heat pour out of my body and it felt so fucking good.

Unfortunately, duty called. And it sounded just like Billy Bones.

"Gather 'round, you bunch of lazy bums! Gather 'round for the shifts.”

A chorus of groans followed his call.

“C'mon, you've had your rest, now get over here."

Sighing, I finished my water and prepared to go back to work.

However, when I turned around on my feet, I got my first good look at the ship's hull and felt my heart drop to the ground: it wasn't wood colored, like it was supposed to - it was white with barnacles!

How the fuck were we supposed to remove all that? It seemed impossible!

Jean, who was a couple of paces ahead of me, stopped, looked over his shoulder when he realized I had stayed behind and burst into laughter. My face of terror must have seemed hilarious to him.

“Considering making a run for it?” He jested.

In response, all I did was stare at him slack-jawed. He laughed some more and kept going.

Oh God, oh sweet baby Jesus, please let me have the second shift.

I stopped at the edge of the gathering crowd and crossed my fingers. Billy read aloud from the list he'd made.

"First shift: Abel. Bobby. Burns. Craig. Constance..."

Fuck. So much for my adoration for Billy.

With slumped shoulders and a resigned heart, I joined the growing line of unlucky bastards who would get to start scrapping barnacles until six bells.

*** "You're sure this is necessary?" I asked Folsom at around four bells.

For the better part of the afternoon, I had been breaking my nails and covering my hands in bloody gashes by prying the blasted barnacles from the port side of the keel. Half of our team worked on the ground or even under the hull, while the other was on scaffolds and hung from suspended planks to do the upper part of the ship.

We would take breaks once in a while for about thirty minutes each. Once again, being the newest addition, I was last to get my turn. Obviously.

When it finally came, I drank at least three cups of water before I flopped on my back under the extensive shade of the ship. It felt so nice, I almost fell asleep... Until someone tapped my leg.

Folsom was grinning down at me with his near-toothless mouth when I cracked my eyes open. Behind him stood Muldoon and Logan, both also smirking like they shared a secret. They were there to tell me my break was over and it was time to go back to work, except instead of leading me to the hull, they made me climb a net that hung from the rails, then the shroud, all the way to the mast. Folsom accompanied me and brought a coil of rope wrapped around his torso. The excuse they gave me to get up there was that the main sail footrope needed replacement, but it made no sense. Tilted at that steep angle, it seemed impossible. Still, given that they were all far more experienced than I and how eager I was to impress them, I followed along.

And so, there we were, hanging several hundred feet off the ground.

"Aye, quite necessary," he assured me. "You don't want the rope snapping while one of us is on it, do you?" "Sure, but why don't we do it when the ship is upright?" I questioned whilst crawling over the platform's aperture around the mast to get to the footrope in question. "This feels dangerous."

I went quiet to focus on not falling to my death. Folsom didn't reply. After I found a good position straddling the mast, I turned - and caught him shimmying down the rope he had brought along while stifling a snort. On the ground, far, far below me, the rest of my shift looked up with big smiles as they urged him down. "Oy!" I called. "Where the hell are you going?!" "Why, off for a quick fuck and a tankard of ale!" Folsom cackled. "Wait--" I looked around, suddenly realizing that I had no idea how to get out from my position without help. My heart burst into a mad rhythm. "How am I supposed to get down??"

"Oh, don't worry, love!" I heard Muldoon cackled. "We'll come back to get you in no time!... As soon as we're done, of course!" "Folsom!!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs, equal parts furious and scared out of my wits. "Folsom, you get back up here right now or so help me God!!!"

"Hazing's not over yet, newbie!" He laughed. When he reached firm ground, he gave the rope a tug and I watched in utter horror as the knot he'd tied broke up and the line fell at his feet. "Hang in there, Constance!" Logan joked. Then, they all turned around and walked away to our camp, leaving me trapped on the mast.

Oh, I was SO going to knock the rest of Folsom's teeth out. With an oar! And chase the rest of them out of town for a fortnight! Bloody... pirates!! Shit, I was so high up. I could see the town, a few miles from where we were. I could also see the fort and a good stretch of the jungles toward the interior. So, the view was nice.

But the heat... the heat was unbearable.

With my sleeve, I wiped the thick layer of sweat from my forehead and tried to ignore the feeling of boiling alive from the inside out. Summer was almost upon us, which meant the sun wouldn't go down for at least another three or four hours. And God only knew how long those bastards would take coming back. "Fuck..." I bent my body forward so I could rest my forehead on the mast. It was growing weak from the labor and the sweltering temperatures. How long had I been perching there...? A minute? Ten? An hour? Whatever water I had taken during my break was long gone, poured right out of my skin, and now a mad thirst gripped my throat. If I stayed up there much longer, I was sure to faint and drop. I would most certainly die.

Somehow, I had to find a way out of that mast.

I glanced behind me, at the platform. The shrouds were well within my reach. If I could shuffle backwards and crawl through again, I could climb down to safety. I just had to keep telling myself it wasn't so hard.

Besides... I could just imagine the look on those morons' faces when I found them and slapped them all across the face, one by one. The thought put a frail smile on my lips. They were going to pay dearly for this prank, oh yes, they were.

Slowly, I started pushing back along the mast, squeezing with my thighs to stay upright. I was so tired, I could barely breathe. My brain was sluggish, like it was about to melt out of my ears. Just another few centimeters... a few more... I reached the platform. As cautiously as I could, I swiped one leg over the mast, then the other, reached out to hold onto the edge of the passage that would lead to the shrouds-- A wave of dizziness robbed me of my balance. My bloodied fingers scrapped the wood and dropped into nothing. Then, my whole body slipped from the mast and suddenly there was nothing separating me from the ground. My heart stopped. I opened my mouth to scream. My hand hooked onto something -- the footrope.

Quickly, I snapped my free arm up and held on for dear life while I swung lazily back and forth.

"Oh dear..." I whispered to myself. Out of some stupid instinct, I took a peek down and immediately regretted it. I was too far high. If I fell, I would break every bone in my body. My flesh would become a gelatinous mess on the beach.

A wave of nausea punched my stomach at the thought.

"Help... Someone..." Fuck, I was scared, almost too scared to raise my voice. “Helloooo...? Help..."

This was it. I was going to die. My little adventure was over before it truly began and it was all over a stupid joke, I couldn't believe it...!

I shut my eyes tight and tried to calm my racing mind. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be how my story ended. I had to fight, just as I'd done with Cutthroat Fred. I kicked my feet to build momentum and try to find purchase on the platform, but my legs had gone numb and my arms were too used up from the day's work. There was no way I could pull myself up.

The crew was in the camp, very close by. I could hear them conversing and shouting at each other, singing shanties, playing music. If I could just scream, someone was bound to hear me. So I sucked in a shaky breath and cried: "Help! Help! Somebody! Heeeeelp!!!"

I could feel my sweaty hands starting to slip. My arms went into spasms, stretched to their limit. It was a matter of time before I fell. I tried to scream louder. "Somebody, please, help me!!" For a short moment, all chatter came to a stop. Then, someone shouted in alarm and a commotion followed, of men calling out for rope, for a net, telling me to hold on, that help was coming.

Above all others, I heard Billy's thunderous roar telling them to get out of the way. I risked another glance down. He hadn't wasted a second; he crawled up the net, ran over the railing on light feet, then up the shroud. In less than a minute, he was at the platform. “Hold on, Constance!" He urged me. "Hold on just a little longer! I'm coming to get you.” My palms chafed against the hemp. “Please, hurry!”

No sooner had the words left my mouth, one of my hands finally gave out. My panicked cry mingled with those of the men on the beach. My fingers trembled on the rope as they lost their strength.

“Fuck! Fuck, Billy, I'm slipping!”

“Almost there!” He passed through the platform, balanced his enormous body on the mast and snatched my wrist at the exact moment I lost my grip on the footrope with a scream. Time stood still. Wide eyed, I stared down at the ground, at the indiscernible faces of the Walrus' men while they held their breaths and brought their hands to their heads. But they stayed where they were. They didn't rush up to me.

Stunned, I slowly let my head fall back. Billy's hand gripped my arm so tight, my fingers had turned purple. He returned my look of shock with his own, like he could scarcely believe he had reached me in time.

“I got you," he puffed. "I got you."

With my breath caught in my lungs, I stared up at his face, red and drenched from his efforts. I could hardly believe I was still alive, too.

"Billy..." He took in a breath, gritted his teeth and heaved me up.

The second I was within reach, I hooked my arm onto the mast and clambered up with his help. He fell back on the platform and held me to him, breathing laboriously, while I buried my nose on the crease of his neck and clung onto his shirt like a child did to their parent after a nightmare.

“It's alright.” His voice was quiet and soothing, not at all judgemental, even as I trembled and sobbed into his skin. One of his hands smoothed down my hair in slow sweeps, over and over, which helped settle my nerves, if only a little. “It's alright. You're safe.”

My teeth chattered too much for me to respond, but I was so grateful for him. So grateful. To my shame, hot tears prickled my eyes and ran down my cheeks, staining his shirt. I hoped no one would notice – especially not him.

After a few minutes of this, I finally found my courage, dried my eyes and pulled away. Billy gave me a once over to assess my state and make sure I wasn't hurt. "You all right?" "Y-yes..."

Through the haze of panic, I realized we were much too close. I was practically on top of him. Yet, there was no room for me to put distance between us, so I remained where I was, though I at least moved my hands from his chest to the platform behind him.

"Good..." He cracked a smile and pushed a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "Feeling brave enough to go back down?"

I took a look over my shoulder, saw the thirty or so men below, as small as toy soldiers, and got this strange impression that the ground was rushing further away from me. With a gasp, I shut my eyes tight and shook my head. "That's fine, don't worry." He touched my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We can just sit here for a bit until you're ready, yeah?" I nodded, did my best to focus on my breathing so I could clear my head. How were we going to get out of that predicament? We were too far high, there was barely anything to grab onto, no space for maneuvering. It was impossible.

Against my best efforts, my breath became shallow. My throat clogged up with a new wave of sobs that tried to force their way out. Fuck me, I was going to start crying again, right in front of Billy. Pathetic. Girly. Weak.

"Do you have any siblings?" I snapped my eyes open. For an instant, I forgot all about our current situation. "... What?" I quipped. "I asked if you have any siblings," he repeated. Calmly. Casually. Like we were sitting down for tea instead of perched hundreds of yards in the air. "Brothers? Sisters?"

"I-I do." I shook my head to get it to focus on his question. "Sisters. Five sisters." "No brothers?" Had he perhaps gone mad from the heat? I continued to stare at him with my mouth hanging open. "You want to know about this now?"

"I'm trying to distract you from the fear," he explained with a chuckle.

How was he so tranquil about everything?? Why wasn't he scared out of his mind? It was absurd!

"No brothers, then. Six girls. Tell me about them. Are they older than you? Younger?" I swallowed a lump in my throat. "I'm the third youngest." "How old is the eldest?" My gaze wandered back down.

"Constance." I returned my stare to his. "Keep your eyes on me. How old is your eldest sister?"

His brow was so tense that the skin creased in deep furrows. His eyes were an bright blue color, almost electric, blinding. They demanded my full attention. I found that I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. "Thirty-nine," I sighed. "She's thirty-nine years old." "And the second eldest, how old is she?" "Thirty-four."

"The third eldest?" His gaze softened and, to my surprise, I felt my body start to relax. "She's thirty-two," I told him. My voice was nearly back to normal. "What about you?" He offered me a warm smile that made my stomach do a flip. "How old are you?" I managed a snort. "It's very rude to ask a lady her age."

That got his smile to widen. "Well, I figured since a I already asked about the age of three other ladies, you wouldn't mind. Besides, I'm curious." He rested his head against the platform. "I want to know." If I didn't know better, I would say he was flirting with me. My gaze dropped to the strings adorning his neck.

"I'm twenty-eight," I murmured. “I will turn twenty-nine in August." He made a little hum. "I'm twenty-eight, too." I looked up again with a stupid wide grin. "You are?" "Just turned, three months ago." "Happy belated birthday," I chuckled.

"Thank you." There was a pause then, like he was waiting for something whilst searching my face. His smile faded away. "What about your two younger sisters? How old are they?" "Twenty-one and fifteen," I replied. "Do you miss them a lot...?" My heart did a plunge. I bit my lip to stop the sorrow from getting the best of me and nodded a couple of times.

"You will see them, again." He swore. "I'm going to get you out of this mess, and you will see them again, alright? I promise." A tremulous smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. "I don't know about the second part... but if you can get me out of this mess, I would consider myself satisfied." I saw a question flash in his eyes, but whatever it was, he didn't pronounce it. Instead, he gave my shoulder another squeeze.

"Ready to go back to solid ground?"

To resist the temptation to look down, I let my eyes shut one last time and pressed my mouth into a tense line. "Not really... but let's go." "Right. Um..." I opened my eyes slowly at his hesitation. He was studying our current position to formulate our exit strategy. It wouldn't be easy; the mast was tilted at a pretty steep angle, which pushed me onto him and offered us very little space to move. His cheeks, already rosy from the heat, turned a brighter shade of red. "Aye, right. Constance... I'm going to need you to pass your leg over me, plant both feet on the platform and... lie back."

Every inch of me went still, even my brain. Especially my brain.

"I... beg your pardon?" "I-I need space to get up and climb to the other side," he stammered, no longer able to look me in the eye. "Which means you have to lie flat on the mast so you won't fall while I do that."

If my face wasn't already burning up, it would have surely combusted. He was talking about my straddling him -- as in, having him between my legs. I might have slapped him, were it not for three things:

One, there were literally no better alternatives.

Two, I liked and respected him too much.

And three, he had just saved my life. "All due respect," Billy muttered as he peered at me with utter embarrassment. "If you really want to get out of here, I'm afraid you're going to have to discard your puritanical sensibilities for a few minutes." It would be the most scandalous thing I had ever done until that moment, but I could recognize it was necessary. So, after taking a shaky breath, I started to move.

Slowly, being extra careful not to touch him, I pulled my left leg up and over his hips. He stayed perfectly still, patiently waiting while I positioned both my feet on either side of him. My face was inches from his; I could feel his shallow breath on my cheek. I licked my dry lips and began to ease myself back, but then stopped, too afraid to drop abruptly and risk falling. I flicked a glance at him. "Would you mind...? Helping me lie back..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Sure."

He took hold of my elbows and lowered me until I was lying fully on my back with him half on top of me.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I could feel it kicking against my ribs, heard it drum in my ears. However, as I looked up at him and he down at me, lips slightly parted over his perfect teeth, it wasn't dread that I felt. At my core, a simmering sensation of heat spread up my belly and down my thighs, filled my chest with an intense longing. Desire. I was feeling desire. "You good?" He hummed, so softly I half wondered if he had spoken at all.

"Aye..." The new wave of thirst filling my mouth had nothing to do with my need to take in water. "I think so..." "Good... In that case, I'm going to let go and get a move on. Do exactly as I do, yeah? I'll wait for you on the other side and we'll climb down the shroud together." "Uh-huh..." His hands slipped away from me so he could lean on the platform again. Next, he turned on his side, grabbed onto the edges of the aperture and slid his legs through it. After he had crossed to the other side, he poked his head out. "C'mon. Remember, don't look down. Keep your eyes on me."

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before I sat up and slid down the mast. I passed one leg first, then the other, going painfully slow compared to when I climbed up. I couldn't understand how I'd done it without a drop of fear, yet now struggled to hold it at bay so I could concentrate.

"That's it..." Billy encouraged me in hushed tones. "Take your time, find your footing. You're doing great, Constance."

He moved back to give me space while I passed the rest of my body through that narrow opening. Never once did I look down, nor let go of the platform. It was the only way I knew to stay calm and collected. "There you go." Billy dropped his feet onto the ratlines and grinned as he rested his arms on the mast. "See? Hard part is done. Now we just climb down, hand over foot."

Right...

I risked a brief glance down. We were still so far from the beach... That illusion of the ground sinking away from me returned, stronger this time. I immediately snapped my gaze back to Billy's, who watched me with some apprehension. "Do you need to stop?" He asked me in that casual tone, no pressure in his voice at all. I shook my head no. The sooner we reached the earth, the better. "Let's go, then. No rush, yeah? I'll match your pace."

Very carefully, I lowered myself onto the shrouds. Billy waited until I was by his side before he too started his descent, so we could go together. The whole while, he reminded me to take my time, to look at my hands, told me I was making good progress. I truly believe that, if it hadn't been for him, I never would have left that mast alive. Finally - finally! - we touched down on the rails. The crew shouted their own encouragement, urging me to keep going, that I was almost there, just a little more. I waved at them so they would know I was all right, but the truth was that, even as we were closer to the ground, it was still too high. I kept a tight grip on the ratlines and fought to contain the nausea rolling in my stomach.

About two and a half meters from me, Billy stopped and frowned. "What's wrong?" "I... I feel dizzy," I moaned. The nausea, I realized, was caused by the light-weight sensation my head was in, coupled with swimming vision and a feeling of being out of balance. I was certain that if I let go of the shrouds, I would faint and probably never wake again. Billy shuffled sideways to return to my side and held out his arm. "Take my hand. I'll help you." Struggling to control my breaths, I stared at his open palm for a second or two before taking it. However, as he started to move away, I gripped it tight and froze. When he realized I wasn't moving, he looked up and tilted his head. "What if I fall...?" I whispered. My bulging eyes clung to his desperately, but he only smiled and squeezed my fingers.

"You won't fall," he said. "I saw you sprint along the bowsprit on all fours like a damn cat. You can do this, Constance. I'm right here and I'm not leaving your side, alright? Even if this takes all night." I let his words envelop me and sighed in relief when my heart settled. We were so close to the end. The net was right there. I could make out the faces of each man below as they waved me over, promising to catch me if I slipped.

Jean was right at the front, pale as a sheet, hands cupped over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

All I had to do was let Billy guide me. Only a few dozen steps later, we reached the net. Billy didn't let go of my hand until the last moment. On wobbly legs, I descended, step by step, one hand over the other...

When I felt hands on my arms, shoulders and back, I knew it was over.

The crew – my crew – aided me down and settled me on the sand. Jean pushed his way through them to kneel at my side and lay a comforting hand on my back. Behind him, a sea of heads hovered over us, telling me to lie on my back and breathe, asking if I was injured, if I needed water, or perhaps some ale? They inquired each other as to what had happened, where was the rest of the watch, why I was up there all alone? I couldn't answer any of their questions. My head was still spinning wildly. Ironically, now that I was on the ground, safe and sound, the nausea was getting worse. I pressed my palms into my eyes and bent over. I was going to vomit any minute, could feel that tell-tale burn just under my jaw getting stronger and stronger. “Get back, you lot!" Billy commanded. "Give her room to breathe. Jean, move over.”

Callous fingers, gentle as the touch of grass, hooked around my wrists and tugged lightly on them. I resisted. "I think I'm going to be sick," I warned them.

"Put your head between your knees. It'll help."

I did so, keeping my eyes closed so the spinning would stop. My mouth watered repeatedly and at first that burn got worse, but with the passing seconds, it faded away. My stomach calmed and returned to normal. Jean rubbed gentle circles on my back while Billy held my hand in one of his. His thumb stroked my skin almost tenderly. "It's all right, Constance," he murmured. "It's over, now. Just breathe."

Jean huffed a laugh and said, in French: "You are, without a doubt, the luckiest girl I've ever met. Christ almighty." I managed a frail chuckle. "Or maybe I just have very good friends," I replied, also in his mother tongue.

At last, I was well enough to sit up straight and look at them. Billy was crouching in front of me. The sun shone bright behind him like a halo, giving him this almost angelical look. That, combined with his blue eyes, tinged with concern, his flushed tan skin and his golden hair, always cropped short, struck me in that moment as so beautiful that my breath caught in my throat. The dizziness and the fear washed away from me, replaced with a sense of peace, of... safety. I was safe. Not just from certain death, either; from everything. As long as Billy was there to watch out for me, I would always be safe. He smiled with relief as he saw I had recovered. “There we go. Good girl.”

Hesitantly, the rest of the crew closed in around us. They kept a safe distance for my sake, though they were worried and eager to take a look at me. No one spoke up above a whisper, like they were afraid to perturb me further or break the tranquility both Billy and Jean had instilled in me.

There were no words to describe what I felt for those men, all of them, as I took in each and every one of their faces. I tried many times since then, but they always fell short of how my chest sizzled, igniting with this warm feeling of belonging. More than my crew, this was my family. The one I had chosen and the one that had chosen me, in return.

One thing I do know for sure: after that day, I would have died for any one of them. No exceptions. No conditions.

“Constance!”

All heads turned inland to see who was coming. Billy's face, soft and kind while he took care of me, twisted into a frightening scowl of barely contained rage. He turned to Jean. “Stay with her?”

“Oui,” the other nodded.

Billy let go of my hand, stood to his full height and marched out through the men, who quickly parted to let him pass, spooked by that dark expression.

Mr. de Groot advanced from the crowd. In his hand, he carried a bucket. He took Billy's place and offered a ladle full of water. “How about something to drink, hmm?”

Having mastered my fear, I sat up straight and accepted the water, sipping slowly so I wouldn't choke. Not far from us, an argument exploded.

“Oh God, is she alright?” I heard Muldoon asking – followed by the dry sound of a fist landing on a jaw.

A chorus of “oh” rose and fell in a wave.

“Where the fuck were you?!” Billy bellowed. “You left her up there alone without aid! She almost died!”

Logan's voice: “We were only gone for a minute to get something to eat! It was just a joke, I swear!”

“Well your fucking joke could have cost her life! It's like I'm dealing with a bunch of amateurs instead of seasoned seamen! Are you all amateurs?! What am I always telling you? Stick together and watch each other's backs! And what did you do? The exact fucking opposite! What is wrong with you?!”

No answer.

I couldn't see much, but from a tight breach in the crowd I managed to spot Muldoon on the sand, bleeding from a burst lip. Despite the humiliation, he didn't dare get back on his feet. The mood among the crew was of intense interest mixed with resentment. For me. Against them. If it weren't for Billy standing between them and my watch, they probably would have torn my watch apart for abandoning one of their own in such a precarious, dangerous situation.

De Groot tried to give me more water. “Never you mind that. Have another sip.”

Gently, I turned the ladle down, anxious to see what would happen next. On the one hand, I was angry at them for what they had done; a joke is only a joke while all parties are perfectly safe. This had gone too far. Billy was right, I could have died.

On the other... I couldn't help to pity them. This was grave indeed and the punishment would have to match the trespass.

“Unbelievable.” Billy said. “You really have nothing to say for yourselves?”

“What's going on here?”

Mr. Gates.

Again, all heads whipped around as the crowd parted. And it wasn't just Gates – Captain Flint followed close behind.

His presence alone blanketed us all with a sense of unease.

Captain and quartermaster surveyed the scene: Muldoon bleeding on the sand; my shift mates tweedling their thumbs, chins tilted down in shame; Billy towering over them, arms crossed over his chest; and me, still trembling from the aftershock as Mr. de Groot and Jean tended to me.

Flint's stare hopped from my sheet-white face to the careened ship and back, stopping at my hands. Suddenly, I became very aware of the dried blood that covered them, from scrapping barnacles all afternoon.

Billy gave them the account of what had happened, from the moment they first heard my cries for help to the scolding he was delivering Logan and the rest. Gates' expression turned darker and darker with each word, going red, then purple, then red again. On the other hand, Flint remained impassive, his hands tucked behind his back as he listened.

When Billy finished the report, Gates turned on my friends, fists shaking at him sides.

“These are some serious allegations. I ought to pin you down to that sandbar until high tide! Captain--” He turned to Flint. “I believe a trial is in order. We can't let this one slide. Someone could have died.”

Murmurs of agreement spread about, faces grim as they looked between me and my neglectful companions. And to think, only a few hours ago, we were at the tavern eating and laughing together. Now, I could hardly look at them.

From my left side, I felt a persistent tingle on my cheek and turned my head to look: Captain Flint stared at me from across the crowd, examining me.

I don't know what he divinated from my eyes, but after almost a minute, he broke contact and addressed the crew. “I agree. Let's take a moment to collect ourselves and get the story straight. I will hear the account of all parties involved... And then we go to votes.”

The crowd split up. Muldoon, Logan and the others were taken away and made to sit on the sand under some shade, with a ring of men standing guard over them. Mr. de Goot and Jean helped me to my feet and took me to the aft of the Walrus, where they sat me on a rustic wooden chair. They insisted I had some more water and biscuits, to recover my strength; they tasted like sawdust on my tongue and felt just as rough. One month in this crew and this would be the second trial I was at the center of. How unlucky could I be?

Not long after, Captain Flint and Mr. Gates came to me to hear my version of the story. I told them everything, swearing to the truth of my words. After they left to go talk to the others, I bent over my knees and held my head in my hands, worried about what was going to happen to them. No matter how I had wanted to shove my fist into all their kissers, I didn't want them to get too hurt. Or worse, expelled from of the crew.

Yet, with a sinking feeling, I was certain that was the most likely outcome.

Out of nowhere, a heavy hand clamped on my shoulder, nearly startling me out of my seat.

“Sorry,” Billy said in response to my gasp. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's fine,” I sighed while massaging my heart. “Guess I'm still a little out of it.”

He crouched in front of me, same as before. With a quiet snort, I realized that, even low to the ground and while I was on a chair, he still towered over me.

“Something funny?” He asked.

“No, it's just...” I tilted my head back just a smidge to look him in the eyes. “I was thinking that even when you're crouched, I still have to look up to you. How did you get to be so damn tall?”

A shy, adorable smile graced his features and he brought a hand up to scratch at his nose. I decided then and there that a bashful Billy Bones was my favorite Billy Bones.

“Would you be surprised to find out I was once tiny and skinny?”

“Noooo... Really?” I arched my eyebrows at him, trying to imagine him as a short, lanky child (I couldn't).

He nodded a couple of times whilst that smile widened into a relaxed chuckle. “Really. Until my sixteenth birthday, I was a spit of a kid. Then I had a growth spurt and just... Never stopped stretching.”

I pointed to his broad shoulders and large arms. “Upwards or sideways,” I jested.

“No, that part came from hard work and dedication. It takes effort to get this big, y'know?”

I laughed, delighted that he played along instead of chiding me. He was still the boatswain, after all, and I a subordinate. My adoration from earlier returned in full force, especially as I recalled how he saved me from falling to my death. I was indebted to him for that and had no way to repay him. Or so I thought, then.

Sighing through my nose, I chipped off the flakes of dried blood from my forearms. “Thank you, by the way... For saving my life. It was very brave of you.”

He half shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “What else was I supposed to do? Let you fall?”

Now it was my turn to be bashful. I let my head turn to the side so he wouldn't see my flushed cheeks or my big, stupid smile.

“Listen, uh...” A pause, during which his tone shifted to something more serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what's going to happen next. With the trial.”

My smile crumbled right out of my face. Slowly, reluctantly, I faced toward him once more. He wasn't smiling anymore, either. In fact, there was something fierce behind that calm demeanor, something violent – a caged animal fighting to be let out.

“Things aren't looking good for those dumbasses. You and I both know that expulsion from this crew is going to be the inevitable result in all this mess. However...”

He let out a heavy breath and rubbed his palms together. “As angry as I am about the whole thing, that's not what I want. Apart from my friends, those men are good sailors and it would be a waste to have a handful of our best leave suddenly, all at once.”

He scrutinized my features carefully. When he saw the way I pouted, gaze on the sand at my feet, his sneer softened up. “And I get the feeling that's not what you want, either.”

I shook my head side to side. “No. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm pissed beyond belief, and it's gonna take me a long while to forget about all this. But I don't want to see them banished. They're my friends, too, and they didn't mean any harm by it. They were just... inconsiderate.”

“And as you know, there are some in the crew that would much rather see you gone than they,” he pointed out.

Like Mr. Singleton. Mr. Turk. Cutthroat Fred... Indeed, it was no secret that a not-insignificant number of the men didn't like me, never had and probably never would. They only tolerated me because Mr. Gates willed it so, and Flint ordered it so, and Billy and a handful of others enforced it so.

“I think--” He continued. “You would go a long way to gain their favor if you were to publicly declare you held no grudge against them for their antics and voted in favor of them staying.”

I leaned back on the chair and searched his eyes. “Do you think it would be the right thing to do?”

He made a face of 'I dunno'. “Doesn't matter what I think. I'm just laying out the cards for you. You're the wronged party here. What do you think?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a bit, torn between resentment and love for my friends. I would forgive them... One day. And they would have to remain a part of the crew in order for that to happen.

“I think it would be for the best, for everyone. Including me. I want to forgive them. I want them to have a chance to earn that forgiveness.”

A half smile crossed his lips. He reached out to give my forearm an encouraging touch. “Very well, then. I'll let the captain know you're ready.” He stood to his feet and walked away.

Where his hand had been, I suddenly felt very cold. I liked his touch. It reminded me of the feeling of honey on my fingertips, silky and supple, or how the waves licked at my ankles, like earlier that afternoon. Inadvertently, the thought that he was certain to give great hugs tugged at my gut.

Then it struck me that, in a way, I already knew how good his hugs were. He had held me against him so strongly, up on the mast, yet so carefully, at the same time. His hand was so gentle as it stroked my hair, and his skin...

God, his skin. Smooth, sun-kissed, feverish. He smelled of sweat, but not the kind that burned your nose and made you want to hurl. It had the kind of natural musk that was strong, but not unpleasant, a smell so delicious it made my mouth water. If I could of have it lathered on my own skin, I would bask in that scent for eternity.

Alarmed, I realized that my chest was hurting from the way my heart pounded. With wide eyes, I covered my mouth with my fingertips, horrified at my own carnal thoughts. The same thing had happened up there, when I'd had him between my thighs and...

Heat crept up my neck and cheeks and forehead, until even my hair roots seemed to be catching fire. Oh, this wasn't good. This was not good, at all.

*** The sky was beginning to turn a lovely shade of pink when the crew gathered around in a wide circle on the beach.

Mr. Gates, my friends and myself were at the center of it. Captain Flint stood to the side, on the front row of this circus. Though he presided over the crew, he was also an equal among them, for during trials, the captain's vote held no more sway than the lowest ranking deckhand.

Torches had been lit as the cloak of night crept on us, so we wouldn't be stumbling in the dark by the time this was finished. I pulled Jean's borrowed frock tighter around my shoulders to fight off the cold that gained strength as the day died out. "So," Gates began. "We all know why we're here, but to recapitulate, I will give you a quick account of the events that led to this trial.”

He cleared his throat. “This afternoon, at four bells, the defendants before you were selected to form the first shift chucking and tarring the hull of the Walrus. Sometime after six bells, they saw fit to leave their colleague, Miss Constance Tilly, alone on the mast while they went to get food and drinks, as a poorly conceived method of hazing. Under the sweltering heat, she feared for her life and saw fit to try to come down by herself. As a result, she slipped and hung several hundred yards in the air. As she does not yet possess the brute strength spending months at see bestows upon a sailor, and after the better part of the day working practically without reprieve, she was unable to climb up to safety. She called out for help and our boatswain, Billy Bones, courageously went up the shrouds to rescue her. It is solely thanks to him that Constance is still drawing breath." I had to smile hearing the little note of pride in that last sentence. Billy tried not to show, but his chest puffed visibly as he held himself tall, with a small smile on his lips. "As such, we are now here gathered to vote on whether to oust the defendants from this crew, definitely and irreversibly."

Gates addressed my companions, who each held a mixture of regret, fear and trepidation on their faces. "Gentlemen, this is your opportunity to defend your honor before your shipmates. Who among you do you choose to represent you?" Mr. Folsom came forward. "I will represent our party."

"Very well." Gates stepped back with an outstretched hand, inviting him to take the stage. Folsom started by taking in the silent men, eyes lingering on those I knew were personal friends of his. He spoke to them first.

"What we did today was unforgivable. Of this, we are aware. By our own recklessness, Constance could have lost her life over a moronic prank. She might be new in our midst, but she has proven her worth time and time again. She's a quick study, hard-working and serviceable. Never denied lending a hand and never complains. Well... for the most part. But whom among us never complained at least once?"

A wave of uneasy laughter rolled through the men. Even I had to smile, a little.

Next, he turned his attention to me and I saw the furrow of his brow deepen in honest guilt. "You may have joined less than a month ago, but we already consider you a part of the crew. That makes you a sister to us, which should cover us all the more in shame. Please know we bore no ill will toward you. We never meant to put you in real danger, yet that's exactly what we did. Can you find it in your heart to forgive us?" Though he spoke for everyone to hear, and this apology was just as much for their benefit as it was for mine, somehow I knew it was directed first and foremost to me. I searched the faces of the other accused and saw nothing but regret and the need for absolution.

If it had been Logan, I might have forgiven them before bed. If it had been Muldoon, I would have made good on my thread by giving him an extra bruise on the jaw to pair up with Billy's and forgiven them the following day.

But it was Folsom who apologized for them all. Folsom, with whom I'd had my first altercation and for whom I'd developed deep respect. I had learned so much from him, once we'd found some common ground.

He looked so humble before me, before us, as he begged forgiveness. "Constance?" Mr. Gates called. "Would you care to say a few words before we vote?"

I tilted my chin up and sighed through my nose. Without taking my eyes away from Mr. Folsom, I declared: "I won't lie and say I'm not angry with you. I am. You shouldn't have left me alone up there. Today... was the scariest day of my life and I won't forget that so soon." Folsom's fists balled up. Logan, Muldoon and the others gawked at me, fearful, no doubt already counting the minutes before they found themselves out of a job. I was making them squirm, sure, but could I be blamed? Honestly? Then I glanced at Billy, who observed me with a knowing smirk. He nodded ever so slightly in approval. I returned my attention to Folsom and the others.

"Even so, I believe your sentiment of guilt. And yes, I know you had no bad intentions when you left. This doesn't change how I feel about you all, and I will still call you friends and brothers whole-heartedly. I forgive you. All of you."

Folsom and the others deflated in relief. I could have sworn I saw Logan wipe a runaway tear, though I would never tell my suspicions to his face.

Around us, the men hummed their approval. I even felt a few hands touch my shoulder and back, accompanied by soft comments like a wise attitude and you're a noble woman, Constance.

Mr. Gates stepped forward to address us all one more time. "If no one else has anything to add?"

No one professed themselves.

"Then let us go to votes. All those in favor of letting the defendants remain with us?" Several hands shot up. Most of them, from what I could tell. They included Billy, Flint, de Groot, Jean, Gates and my own.

My shoulders slumped and my heart was at peace. They were staying. "All those against?" Hardly a dozen hands went up.

"That settles it then." Mr. Gates clapped. "Gentlemen, you may stay with us for a while longer." There was a tentative applause for the close call. But, it became apparent I wasn't the only wronged party here, after all. A betrayal of your crew, no matter how slight, was a serious offense. They were going to have to work hard to make up for this incident.

"Now, as for punishment," Mr. Gates proclaimed once the clapping stopped. "The captain, the boatswain and I spoke on this matter and have reached a consensus: for abandoning your stations and putting your companion in peril from your negligence, you will be working double shift cleaning the hull and you will be scrubbing the decks while we're at sea for the next three months."

The group groaned and grimaced (Muldoon buried his face in his hands in despair), but no one dared contesting. They knew they deserved worse, so this, they would endure. "With that said, I declare this trial officially concluded. Thank you all for your participation. Now, how about some roast pork on the spit for supper, to end the day on a high note?"

We all whooped in agreement, energized by the thought of some food and rum. But, while the others dispersed, I stayed where I was.

My regretful friends slumped forward . Truth be told, after Mr. Folsom's speech, plus the thought of their imminent expulsion, my anger had somewhat cooled down. I was ready to put this whole ordeal behind us. Muldoon was the first to speak, eyes as watery as a puppy's. "Are you all right?"

"I am," I muttered. "Billy got to me before I could fall. I wasn't hurt." "We're really sorry, Constance." Logan rubbed a hand down his neck, incapable of meeting my gaze. "We never meant to put you in harm's way, honest." "I know, Logan." I offered him a compassionate frown. "Sorry you won't get to see Charlotte much." He shrugged with an unconcerned grin. "She'll still be there waiting for me when we're done. It's fine." "Besides, we were asking for it, weren't we?" Muldoon added, to which the rest agreed. "And Constance? Thanks for vouching for us. We owe you a lot for this." "Damn right, you do. But for now..." I smirked and punched his arm. Hard. "Let's get some booze and dinner. I'm starving." They bellowed in agreement, though Muldoon was massaging the spot where I'd hit him. I did say I would get him one day, didn't I?

As a unit, we marched up the dark beach towards the fire pit where our food would cook. One day, I would collect this favor, with interests. But not tonight. Not tonight.

#black sails #black sails fanfic #billy bones #hal gates #james flint #alternative prequel #oc centric #slow burn #mutual pinning #canon character x original character romance #found family #friends to lovers #stories by Crow #a girl an ocean fanfic

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imconfusedbutok · 8 months ago

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characters: Krel Tarron, OC

Tags: Krel has a crush, mutual pinning, alien x human kinda, fluff and comfort

Not the Time for Love

Krel Tarron x OC

Don’t let your guard down. Krel couldn’t risk anything. Even as he sat with his best friend, on a hill watching over Arcadia as the sun set.. he couldn’t help but feel a little sad.

He tried to ignore the music that played in the earbud he had. He couldn’t lose focus. He wasn’t here to fall in love.

Leo felt at peace, sitting with his best friend at the tip of the hill. He relaxed, one arm around the back of the bench and his other hand, the one that was closer to Krel, lying at his side. Soft, classical music played in the earbuds he shared with Krel, but his eyes were focused on the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Leo asked, tilting his head towards Krel but keeping his dark brown eyes on the sky.

What a question. The prince raised an eye at Leo and turned his head towards the sky, taking a moment to register the sight. The sunset was beautiful, the colors blending together effortlessly in what could be described as a masterpiece. He took a moment to focus on the orange sun dipping below the horizon, before returning his gaze to his friend.

"I suppose it is..” he admitted, a small blush appearing across his face that he attempted to hide by looking away. He turned his head away, glancing over the town.

“Does Akiridion-5 have sunsets?” Leo asked casually, closing his eyes.

“Or is it just… space?”

No such thing as space sunsets, idiot. Krel mentally cursed at himself for having a smart-ass comment in the back of his mind. He paused and let out a small sigh, pushing the thought away.

“No.. we have sunsets, just not like this..” he began, gesturing to the sky.

“Huh.” Leo murmured. He opened his eyes after a moment, turning to look at Krel.

“Speaking of which… how long are you gonna stay here anyways?”

Krel’s heart thumped at the question, and he shifted slightly in his seat. It was a question he had expected, and yet one he wasn’t looking forward to answering. He let out a sigh, knowing his answer would disappoint his friend.

“I don’t know.” He muttered, avoiding Leo’s gaze.

“Does that mean… it’s somewhere in the years category?” Leo asked hopefully.

Krel felt a pang of guilt as he heard the tone in his friends voice. He knew Leo well enough to know what that sound in his voice meant.. hope. Stupid Earthling. He mentally cursed.

“I.. most likely not,” he began, still refusing to turn his stare to meet the brown eyes. “As much as I like it here.. I have more… important things I must attend to back in Akiridion-5..”

Leo’s face fell, his brown eyes turning sad as he looked at him.

“Oh.” He said quietly.

“So… you could leave soon then.”

Krel felt his heart sink at the sight of the sad look on his friends face. He had hoped Leo might have understood, after all, it wasn’t like he had ever indicated that he even wanted to stay forever..

He looked away, and swallowed. “Y-Yeah..” He managed to force out, “There’s a lot going on back home.. so I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here..”

“Huh.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over everything they’d done. He’d known Krel from the moment he first walked into that school, and now…

“Do you think… you’d come back…?”

Why do you have to ask such difficult questions..?

Krel cursed his friends kindness sometimes. How could one person be so caring and considerate? He looked down at the ground, unable to meet his friends eyes.

“I don’t.. I don’t know..” He mumbled, almost defeated. He hated admitting he had no idea what would become of him.

“So…”

Leo’s shoulders dropped sadly.

“When you leave… I might never see you again for the rest of my life.”

Krel felt like he’d been hit across the face. That was something he hadn’t thought of. The fact that when he did have to leave for home, he might never see Leo again.

He was silent for a moment, trying to come up with an answer. But he found himself speechless, with nothing he could think of to say.

He finally looked up and met his friends eyes, a saddened expression on his face.

“Probably not..” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. Humans had much shorter lifespans than Akiridions. So… If he didn’t keep track of time, and if he got too busy…

He would never see Leo again.

Leo’s eyes were glossy and his long eyelashes were slightly moist, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he stared back at him.

“But… you’ll say goodbye, right?”

Krel felt the lump in his throat tighten at the sight of his friends pained expression, and he quickly averted his eyes.

“Of course.” He mumbled, unable to help how emotional his own voice sounded. His chest ached as he realized he might never see his best friend again.

“I wouldn’t.. leave without saying.. goodbye..” He choked out, biting his lip as he felt his own eyes begin to burn.

“Just checking…” Leo said quietly.

He hesitated, taking in a shaky breath before moving his hand to grasp Krel’s squeezing it gently.

“I would hate for you to leave me without telling me goodbye.”

Krel felt a jolt run through his body at the feeling of Leo’s hand wrapping around his own, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gently squeezed it back, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

“You mean too much to me to do that..” he whispered. He meant the words, after all, in the short amount of time he’d spent on earth, Leo had become someone more to him than just a friend. He really didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Yeah.” He whispered back. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked at Krel, running his thumb along his knuckles.

“I don’t suppose I could come with you, could I.”

A small flicker of hope lit inside Krel’s chest at the question, and he lifted his head quickly, his head snapping up to look at his friend.

“You.. you would want to?” He asked, almost a little too quickly. He tried to tell himself to stop the hope bubbling up inside him, but he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered.

Leo’s eyes widened softly.

“Well… yeah…” he replied, running his free hand through his dark curls.

“I’ve pretty much got… nothing here except for you. Sure earth is beautiful, but… I don’t think I could feel at home here with you gone.” He said, averting his eyes.

Krel’s heart thumped as he listened to his friends words. A part of him was touched by their meaning, but the other, more guarded, part of him wanted to tell him it would be too dangerous. But just the thought of having him by his side was all he wanted.

He gently squeezed his friends hand and took in a shaky breath before speaking.

“..But.. what about your.. family?” He asked, suddenly remembering the fact that humans had.. families.

Leo laughed a little.

“My parents won’t even notice I’m gone. I promise.”

Krel felt stunned at his words, and the fact that he seemed so nonchalant about it. How could he seem so indifferent to this?

“But.. but how..? Don’t they…” he trailed off, not sure how to phrase his question.

“Let’s just say that… not everyone wants a trans kid.” He shrugged a little, looking away and scratching the back of his neck.

His eyes widened slightly as the words sunk in, and he felt a pang of guilt. How cruel could humans be, to not want their own child? He quickly composed himself, and squeezed Leo’s hand again.

“I see.. well… in that case..” he began, hesitating. Should he really be asking this? “You’re.. sure you’d want to come with me..?”

“I…”

Leo looked back at him, his brown puppy eyes brightening.

“Yes. I’d wanna come. I can pack everything into one bag.” He nodded.

A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of Krel’s lips, and his heart practically leaped in his chest. He was coming with him. He wouldn’t have to be without him.

#krel tarron #Krel Tarron x oc #3 below #tales of arcadia #alien x human #alien #alien crush #Alien romance #friends to lovers kinda #Mutual pinning #Krel Tarron has a crush

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h4venpha · 2 years ago

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isagi mutual pinning drabble/idea i cant get out of my head nor can i write it cause the words are quite literally NOT coming out rn :(

but athletic trainer!reader and isagi the last ones in the clinic and .. mutual pinning sillies... he's walking in like practically drenched in sweat from playing and his navy fringe is sticking to his forehead. he's got this massive smile on his face, because even after a long, hard game, seeing you gives him a new burst of energy.

“Hey…” His Adam's apple bobbing as he pushed down his nervousness seeing you lean against the counter. It wasn’t every day he got the chance to be alone with you. Usually the clinic was loud and filled with sweaty players. But here, just you and him in the quiet room, he suddenly felt very aware of himself. “...Am I the last one here?” Isagi asked as he sat up on one of the exam tables.

“Yeah, actually, I was just about to start cleaning up.” You said and motioned to the messiness around the clinic. The open cabinets and drawers, forgotten sweat towels, quickly melting ice packs, and a pool of some sort of sticky blue substance on the tiled ground.

His eyebrows furrowed lightly. “Oh, sorry then,” he quickly said, suddenly feeling like it was stupid for him to be nervous when clearly you wanted to clean and leave. I’ll be quick, it’s just my-”

“-Your shoulder, right?” You finished for him.

His navy eyes widened. “...Yeah? How did you know?” And suddenly he grabbed the front of his jersey and pulled it up and over his head. Your face quickly reddened and you had to remind yourself that you were an athletic trainer doing your job, and that this wasn’t some sort of cliche romcom. Isagi was just another player on the team and you had to tend to his injuries… except with blood rushing to your face and an unstoppable fluttering feeling in your chest.

and youre prodding your fingers around his shoulder and there's so much heat coming off his body like hes a heating pad or something. and it doesnt help your already-red-hot face. meanwhile isagi is hoping the fact that he jus finished a game is enough of an excuse for his pink cheeks and his heart still beating out of his chest.

youre wrapping his shoulder gently with the athletic tape and wrap and it just feels so?? intimate. like suddenly now that everyone's gone and you two are alone it feels strangely intimate and not something normal between player and athletic trainer. both of your hearts beating and breath stopping short after you finish wrapping him up. (and ofc he doesnt put his jersey back on in hopes to maybe sorta try and impress his crush in any kind of way (its working btw))

and isagi helps you clean up the clinic: putting the extra rolls of athletic wrap back into the cabinets where they belong, and wiping off the exam tables and doing literally anything he can to stay another minute or two with you in the clinic.

when you finish, you and isagi are both standing at the door with your belongings in hand, just kind of.. looking at each other. like so many unspoken words but a mutual understanding of just one more minute. youre admiring his sparkling doe eyes and how he always seems to have a small, sweet smile on his face when hes with you. he's admiring your cheeks and how he so badly wants to pinch them in between his fingers and tell you about how pretty you were. he's clearing his throat and adverting his eyes with a deep blush high on his cheeks as he opens the door for you with a playful bow. before you both part ways with the constant thought of each other lingering in the back of your minds.

#isagi yoichi #bllk #blue lock #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi x y/n #blue lock fluff #mutual pinning #isagi fluff #bllk isagi #fluff imagine #h4venpha

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sundaysconsort · 1 month ago

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Entry : " Eyes don't lie "

Pairing : Aventurine | Oc! Shadow (@aventurineswife) ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Information : Aventurine's refusal to allow Shadow any control over her own wallet is apparent. Seeking out a specific brand of glove for a dear friend, Aventurine offers to be her guide. Unbeknownst to her, it would become somewhat of a date for the pair.

Tags : Mutual Pinning, Slow Burn, Angst If You Squint, Fluff, Romance, Intimacy, Emotional Healing, Domestic, Intimacy, Mutual Vulnerability, Internal Conflict, Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: I worked on this longer than expected, and am still not quite satisfied with the result. However, I wish to shed some light and express my gratitude towards you. Despite the chaos, I hope you enjoy.

Whether you choose to window-shop, or waltz towards an article of clothing that tickles your fancy, you're a subject left in the hands of the general public. Your eyes drift for a second too long towards their product; and you'll have somebody invite you in, warm smiles used to hold rapport.

"Jewelry, wristwatches, handbags, and haute couture… You can find the most high-end and opulent merchandise in Penacony here!" You'll face salesmen and their attempts to manipulate you, coarse you into purchasing something you know you don't need; far out of your budget. Populated streets make it a competition between rivaling stores to pick up more possible customers, "▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇!" "▇▇▇▇▇▇▇!"

The best you can do is drown it out, or choose against this and ultimately lose yourself in the industry's tactics to lure you in. Ever heard the phrase "More fish in the sea"? Well, this is not a phrase used for romance alone, oh no. You're undoubtedly the fish within these bustling streets, as each store extends their reach to hook you in.

Some, however, know how to play around their theatrics' like an expert.

"Penacony appears never to dwindle, that is for certain." Voice written in velvet, a young woman combs a hand through her hair with an exasperated sigh. Brunette strands side-swept temporarily, only to begin falling back in place. Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from a window with the glamorous assortment of garments, she is met with a familiar face.

“Neither does your beauty, dear friend~”

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

"...Aventurine?" Her ocean eyes would narrow, soaking in his appearance. Lips parting to speak once more, "-I thought you mentioned some form of important business left you with little free time? Have I remembered incorrectly?"

Aventurine, a member of the Interastral Peace Corporation; IPC for short. His title holds weight like no other, especially after the events he played a hand in towards the present of Penacony. A member of the Ten Stonehearts. A handsome face renowned for his luck, willing to bet everything on a mere chip.

"Ah yes, I did say something along those lines." He'd hum in agreement, eyes reading hers before pulling himself back up to his usual stature, no longer level with the lady. "-So, Shadow. What brings a woman such as yourself to these streets? Has the express chosen a new destination? Found trouble within this dreamscape once again?"

"Pssh. Nothing of that sort," Shadow would roll her eyes, playfully swatting the air as if to reprimand him. His eyes focus solely on her, taking note of the wallet grasped in her hand. Pressing it inside a purse she'd thrown over her shoulder casually. "We came at someone's request-"

"-Shadow!!" A chipper voice would suddenly shout, drawing the attention of both Aventurine and Shadow. Coming into view would be a pair of women, one with a bright expression and pink hair, while the other wore a color palette resembling the rising sun. Expression is only described as exhaustion, tension written in the way she is dragged along by their friend. An arm outstretched, stumbling over her own feet which drag on the ground. "-Aventurine? Are you both..?"

The energetic lady would let go of her companion's hand and lift the same limb dramatically to her brow as if scouting the couple closely. Unsure whether she has interrupted something or not.

"My oh my, is the entire crew here? Long time no see, Friends!" Aventurine would speak, his gaze deciphering what may be the reason for their return to Penacony. "-Stella, you've certainly seen better days... I take it March convinced you to tag along?"

Strelitzia, a fellow member of the Astral Express crew. Little was known of her or her species, besides her vague similarities to the Halovians. A pair of small, fascinating wings would twitch on top of her head, lifting her gaze towards Aventurine, only for him to receive an intense stare. One filled with emotion, far too much depth to decipher in a single glance. Her eyes resemble his own in color, falling narrow, void of any sort of light despite their surroundings.

"-Stella found interest in a conversation you had over text with the Trailblazer." A voice chimed in, his head turning towards Shadow who stood tall by his side. He'd notice her eyes stuck on the lady they were casting the spotlight on. "Which led to our return. There was mention of..?-"

"...' Night Diamond'" Stella whispers, crossing her arms in discomfort. Her wings are unable to remain still, fluttering up and down impatiently, casting a shadow on her face with each subtle movement. "...Gloves."

Aventurine's lips would tug into a smug smile, pulling out his phone to scroll through his messages. Finding the exact text Strelitzia would've been interested in, "This?" The man hands the phone to Strelitzia. Her hands cautiously took the mobile device from his grasp, unfamiliar with such a luxurious casing. Looking towards Shadow who wore a warm expression, encouraging her to speak further with Aventurine.

'Take, for another example, these "Night Diamond" series gloves, the last masterpiece by the deceased design master Van Jagh. They're handcrafted and limited to ninety pairs galaxy-wide, perfect for parties and special occasions.'

"...Yeah." Strelitzia would hand the phone back towards Aventurine, pointing towards the exact message in reference. Reeling back as their hands brush against each other. Keeping to herself once again, responding to him with small glances rather than making use of her voice.

Shadow feels a free arm snake around her waist out of the blue, pulling her close to Aventurine's side, leaving little proximity between the two. Wishing to include her, and gain somebody else's insight, the gambler began turning his phone towards her, allowing a clear view of the texts. Gaining the attention of both March and Strelitzia with his hands-on approach with Shadow, keeping their lips shut.

…Until March noticed him lean his head against Shadow, their blonde and brunette hair tangled together.

"-Are you two a thing?" March would blurt, shocked by her revelation. Tilting her head in curiosity, she'd murmur for Strelitzia to hear. "...Did you know of this and not tell me?"

Strelitzia shakes her head with a pair of furrowed brows, confused by such an accusation. Unable to speak, she'd felt March take hold of her hand once more, grinning widely. "Well, I think these two need time on their own. We'll find those gloves on our own, kay? Catch you both later!"

Unable to argue, Strelitzia's wings would lay flat on her head like a saddened puppy. Turning to watch Aventurine and Shadow as she reluctantly retreats with March, disappointed their interaction with Shadow ended so abruptly.

"Well, anyway..." A sultry voice cuts through the silence between him and Shadow, Aventurine's arm loosening around the woman's waist as some passersby look at their public display of affection. "...where were we? aah, right." He'd confirm something within himself, admiring the casual appearance Shadow wore during her time out.

Can't lie to you, baby Wanna feel your body close You say that you hate me But tell me shit nobody knows

"Do we genuinely look like that in their eyes?" Shadow spoke out loud, left in shock at the idea of her friend implying such an idea. Shifting outside of Aventurine's hold, and stepping back for room to breathe.

Truthfully, Shadow knew she had been pinning for Aventurine long before March brought up such an accusation. Choosing to ignore it due to their past circumstance... but such proximity made it hard to avoid. Thoughts drifting to the idea of his feelings.

What could she possibly make of his poker face? The emotions he shields from the naked eye?

Led on for years, creating a distance, only to be in his embrace once again.

She felt her heartache, the longer her heart wished to peruse him through reconciliation.

"How about this, mh? Allow me to be your companion tonight—won't you, Shadow? I know all the best locations. Anything you seek, ask, and you shall receive~" Not minding March's behavior, he decides to lean into it. Moving on from the subject immediately, brushing over Shadow's question, leaving room for her to dwell on whether it was intentional or not.

He remains open-ended. A man left up to interpretation.

"You and I both know I can't afford any store you suggest-" Shadow clicks her tongue, arms crossed disapprovingly, finding his proposition blastomas. Hearing Aventurine release a hearty laugh.

"Ah ah ah, humor me, won't you? Plus, as I said, Tab's on me-"

"-You never said that"

Shadow's gaze would narrow, reading into his every breath. Softening as his eyes met hers, losing what little resolve she had inside. She'd turn her head aside, neither accepting him outright nor rejecting the proposal.

"Now I have," Aventurine smiles, one fueled by his irresistible charm—but she knew better. That smile never reached his eyes.

He'd lift her head with a single finger beneath her chin, guiding her to look at him once again without a motion of his own, giving her that freedom to refuse or turn. "Tab's on me, I insist." Her walls crumble.

"Right, right. Lead the way, Handsome."

"Handsome?"

He’d let out a weary exhale, not realizing it was held for an extended period, attempting to brush this interaction off.

A single word from her.

Tension unearthed from his heart, struggling to accept such praise from somebody genuine. Lips thinning, he'd force an uncomfortable smile. Coward, he thought.

"C'mon, the sooner we find those gloves the better. For Stella's sake."

Right, for their friend's sake.

He was foolish to believe this could be a moment in time—shared for just the two of them. Lowering his hand in defeat, he'd be caught off guard when Shadow takes the lead by capturing his hand before it falls, turning to walk forward with him in her wake. Fingers intertwining.

The sound of music, idle chatter, and cheers cease to exist. His heart beat uncontrollably with each step.

“…”

Aventurine’s smile fell, far too exhausted to continue once she'd turned away from him, preoccupied with her thoughts.

Pathetic.

His expression morphed solemn, holding himself together barely. Thankfully she was unaware of his turmoil, or, refused to acknowledge it. He felt utterly pathetic, his tongue tied—Left to admire her from behind, out of sight. Just how it should’ve always been.

How could he possibly deserve her? How could he protect her in this chaotic realm? Perhaps, in another life...

Shadow's hand tightens, lending him a warm squeeze in silence. His hands trembling the entire walk, clutching onto her in their brief time alone. Appreciating her willingness to play as his anchor.

They've been here before.

Yeah, you're beautiful, don't have to try Darlin', you look divine

"You'd look beautiful in this, though, ...beautiful may be an understatement." Aventurine unhooked a revealing dress from its rack, whistling and holding it in front of him. Envisioning Shadow fits snuggly in it's fabric. "-Shadow?"

"We're here for Stella." Shadow reminds Aventurine adamantly, the warm lighting of the store complimenting her body deliciously. She couldn't help but fidget, shifting weight from one leg to the other anxiously, aware of how Aventurine seemed to devour her in a single glance.

"Come now, you couldn't possibly be this against treating yourself."

"I'm not-" Shadow attempts to argue, listening to Aventurine as he raises a brow at her futile retorts. Making it clear who's in control of their predicament,

"Well, then try this on for me." His expression was written smugly, already aware of who would come out the victor. "-Shouldn't be an issue if you aren't against a little treat for the both of us?"

"What? That's not what I said-" Shadow grows frustrated, a dust of pink adorning her cheeks as her inevitable defeat approaches. Wishing to clean that smirk off the blond's face.

"Please?" Aventurine silences her, kneeling in front of her, holding the dress in his hands neatly. Lifting it towards her as a servant would for their queen, "Wouldn't you be so generous as to allow me first class witness of your absolute divinity." He winks.

"...Kakavasha! People are watching-!" Shadow's thoughts race, feeling the eyes of those around them bore into their figures. His theatrics garnered unwanted attention. Growing embarrassed, she lost her composure, voice escaping her; referring him to be somebody he was no longer before she could restrain herself.

"Let them." He shrugged nonchalantly, anticipating her response to his request. The eye's not once wavering, not once straying from his desire.

If his old identity escaping her lips bothered him, he didn't show any sign of it.

"You're insufferable," Shadow murmured, accepting her defeat as she took the dress from his hands. Holding it against her chest, the satin seamlessly drapes over her arm. Its material is cool to the touch.

"I know." Aventurine smiles, taking her criticism without complaint. Leading her to feel regret, she readied herself to apologize, only to leave it alone at the sight of him. He seemed content.

And so, she made her way to the changing room. Felt his eyes trained on her the entire way.

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

Shadow slides the curtain in a swift motion, exposing herself and the changing room's interior, the sound of a whistle immediately meeting her ears.

"Well, If it isn't the most attractive woman in the entirety of Penacony," he'd wear a shit-eating grin. Approaching her with his usual strut, his hands slipped into her own, "I'd bet my last chip on that, sweet beacon of light." The man whispers against her ear, guiding her towards the closest mirror.

Shadow couldn't help but clench the fabric of her dress, eyes averted in an attempt to glimpse at the man behind her. Felt a hand trail from her hip, up her torso, and towards her cheek; careful to avoid anywhere she might be uncomfortable with him grazing. Guiding her to face the mirror,

"I'd argue you're the most attractive, not I." Shadow smiled tenderly, too busy looking at his reflection to admire her dress. Losing herself in his presence.

"Haha, say that once you quit ogling over me and focus those pretty eyes on yourself." He'd nudge her to look towards the mirror, nodding his head with that same confident grin. "-stunning."

His voice held a tinge of warmth, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear. Causing the woman to blush faintly, listening to his every word, not noticing the smile of her own until he playfully reached to squish her cheeks.

"Aventurine."

"Yes?"

Then followed silence, her eyes admiring the view of them in the mirror. He looked... happy. Whether it was an illusion or not, she wished to stay here permanently.

Aventurine's expression is confident, while hers is relaxed. One hand of his is enough to cup beneath her chin, pressing her cheeks together between her finger and thumb. Leaving her with a kissy face; her brows furrowed. This seems to further entertain him.

Aventurine's free hand caressed her hip, exposed by the dress's open window teasing beneath the material, skin hidden from sight. The dress itself is quite snug, complimenting the young woman's figure. A simple appeal, raven colors with a few feather-like designs on the very bottom of the mermaid flounced dress.

"What are we?"

Shadow's voice escaped her, sounding significantly more vulnerable than she anticipated.

You tell me your secrets You keep your life between your lips You know you're my weakness Tell stories with your fingertips

"What are we not?" He chuckled dismissively, unbefitting of his true character.

Aventurine wouldn't lend her a direct answer, again. What did she expect? She could sense his hesitant nature, always playing so cautious with her... her heart ached in uncertainty.

"Give me an answer, Aventurine." Her eyes narrow, refusing to play along with this game of his any further. She needs an answer. Enough hints, enough of whatever role they play in this game.

"I'm uncertain," His words came without deceit, his hands making their way to both settle on her hips, a cheek pressed against the top of her head. Hiding his expression. "I... need time to understand what the answer you deserve is."

"Aventurine, I don't want the answer you believe I want. I need your honesty-"

"-I don't know, Shadow. I don't understand what we are; I don't know." His grip tightens, almost enough to bruise. She wasn't phased, growing further concerned.

Shadow hesitates to push him any further, choosing to combat her inner turmoil in silence. She knew Aventurine better than anyone, or she believed she did, and trusted his word. Lifting an arm, Aventurine felt her fingers scratch at his scalp, soothing his weary soul.

"I don't know." He'd murmur again, feeling his composure slip away.

"Shh... It's okay." Shadow whispers, warm and comforting. "We'll be okay."

She'd recognize her own saddened smile in the mirror, observing Aventurine's stillness in quiet acceptance. Satisfied that he hasn't pulled away from her touch. Fingers tangled in his luxurious hair.

Aventurine wouldn't speak, his hands loosening to caress her skin tenderly, grounding himself. His every intention is to remind her that she's more the a shadow. She's a beacon of light in his life.

No matter how stunning she may be, in her eyes, nothing is equal to his natural appeal. Admiring him so long as he allows. The scent of his cologne rubbed off on her, her eyes shut, and the world around them drowned out.

Yeah, you're beautiful, don't have to try Darlin', you look divine

"Are you sure? This is far too expensive," Shadow said, uncertain, her brows furrowed. Staring at the dress slung over an arm, "there's no guarantee I'll wear it often..."

"Trust me, this hardly leaves a scratch on my account. Allow me to treat you tonight." Aventurine laughs, leaving Shadow no room to argue further; his hand encasing hers while they walk. "Plus, it was basically made for you, wouldn't you agree?"

They've been seeking the "Night Diamond" series gloves for longer than expected, her mind undergoing suspicion. Shadow felt as though Aventurine had been playing dumb throughout their time together. Refusing to call him out, she found herself enjoying his attempts to lengthen their time together.

Aventurine takes notice of Shadow's eyes as searches relentlessly, lingering on a dress similar to the one already draped over her arm, however, it matches his signature aesthetic rather than her own... quick to avert her gaze.

"Aren't those the gloves?" Shadow lifts their hands to point towards the lone gloves behind glass, left safely in their showcase.

"Good eye, as expected of my most trusted partner." Aventurine never missed the opportunity to praise her over the most simple of feats. Smiling warmly, one significantly more genuine than his play on confidence earlier. Whether he was aware or not, she was left unaware.

Aventurine hesitantly lets go of Shadow's hand, "Stay here, I'll handle this. If you spot anything else during my absence, well... I wouldn't mind adding it to my card" He'd wink, making his way towards an employee, leaving Shadow behind momentarily.

She'd smile fondly, watching how he conversed with the employee. His charming grin was infectious, watching his gaze before she'd avert her gaze and act nonchalant.

Just as requested, she allows him to take over. Making her way towards a golden hairpiece, from it hung an untied, yellow ribbon. Reminding her of Stella, she'd feel the material slip between her fingers,

"You want this as well?" Aventurine's voice suddenly met her in a hot whisper, breath trickling down from her ear; causing her hair to rise on the back of her neck. "I never saw you as the type to wear such a bright color, y'know, given you claim to be a shadow and all." He'd tease, feeling her press a hand clasp against his mouth and ultimately silence him; a single brow raised in question while she felt his grin against her palm.

The man's eyes glint with intent, left unnoticed by Shadow.

"It's for Stella," She'd respond, looking towards him. "-if you insist on buying me the dress, and her gloves, I... would like to buy something for her myself." Shadow's gaze soon returned to the ribbon, her eyes refused to escape the hair accessory afterward, that was until she'd recoil, pulling her hand away from his face at the feeling of his tongue against her palm.

"I- I don't even know what to say to you." She'd stare at him dumbfoundedly, her nose scrunched in disgust while rubbing the saliva from her palm to the unfortunate fabric of her clothes.

He'd merely shrug with a proud smirk, eyes sharing an unrelenting glimmer; he'd spare her momentarily. He found a moment of pleasure in her disgust, wishing to rile her up further.

"You're so....-weird," Shadow stated quietly, arms crossed, she gripped the accessory between her fingers, listening to the beat of her heart in both ears. "Let's... pay for this all and meet with the others. I wish not to leave Stella waiting longer than necessary."

Aventurine's eyes glimmered like never before, whether it was the lighting in the store or the joy of the moment. She... couldn't erase the image of his gaze from her mind. Taking a peek at him, she notices it gone once more, frowning quietly. Their dynamic is still painted blue.

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

"Aventurine! Shadow!" A loud voice breaks through the crowd's endless chatter outside the store, "Over here!!"

Many turn their heads, looking towards the young lady who laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of her head. Embarrassed at the unintentional attention she attracted. As Aventurine and Shadow reunite with March, they look around… noticing something strange.

"Where is Stella?" Shadow is the first to ask, concerned about her whereabouts.

"Don't tell me," He paused, "-you lost poor Stella in the crowd? Poor girl…" Aventurine lifts a hand to his cheek, heightening his theatrics. Receiving a pout in return by March, and a playful glare from Shadow.

"What?! Of course not!" March defends herself, "She saw Mr. Yang and ran off without a word, she doesn't usually handle these crowds well… but something tells me-"

"Sunday came with him?" Shadow adds, a knowing expression visible on her face.

"Bingo! Or… that's my guess at least. Ehe…" March giggles once again, not minding Strelitzia's sudden urgency to flee. Perhaps Strelitzia merely took up the opportunity to escape March's excitement while she had the chance. Shadow knew better.

"To think he'd show face in his unfinished symphony…" Aventurine hums to himself, wearing his signature grin. "Perhaps this is where we part ways, mh? Shadow?"

Would her answer matter? If she asked for him to stay, would he?

"Yeah." She'd take a deep breath, remaining composed. "We've got all we came for if not more…" Shadow thinks, "-I feel I haven't thanked you enough for this."

She'd lift the bag of luxury merchandise, peeking inside the bag that felt expensive on its own. She barely could afford that hairpiece for Stella, but, managed nonetheless. Would she regret it? Of course not.

I swear friends don't get this close Pull you in exchanging souls Trace my skin, losing control

"Pssh." Aventurine waved a hand, watching how March pivots on her foot, in search of any sign of their companions. Taking this as an opening, he'd step closer towards Shadow, "I have an idea as to how you could… repay me; if you're interested that is."

Shadow raised a brow, suspicious of his intentions that are left unclear. In response, Aventurine lightly tapped his cheek with his index and middle finger, face turned at an angle that still allowed his eyes to bore into her own. Expecting something, he'd allow Shadow to interpret this however she wishes.

"What?" Shadow inquired, her heart twinged between his clever fingertips. Left unsure whether she had missed any subtle cue on what he may desire.

After what felt like an eternity, Aventurine's laugh meets her unresponsive behavior, truly shaken by the idea of his implication.

"Well, you better catch up with March before she gets lost as well." Aventurine felt hesitant to leave, however, knew it was best for the both of them they separated once again. HIs chuckle unsettling, for her; knowing that it's full of falsehood.

"Wait." Shadow spoke up, refusing to accept his attempt to leave. No, it was far too soon.

"Miss me already?" Aventurine turned towards her, his breath escaping him as Shadow reached for his face suddenly. Hands clasping each cheek, she'd lean towards him, her body pressed against his chest. The bag of goods left at their feet.

"This is what you wanted isn't it..?" Shadow's voice lowers significantly, eyes peering into his with underlining resilience.

"Haha… not quite," Aventurine responds weakly, knowing full well it's close to what he previously bargained for.

"Then if I said I wanted this, would you reject my proposal?" Shadow asks, her breath leaving a warm tingle against his skin.

"…Shadow," Aventurine says, her eye's a window to the soul. He was afraid.

"Answer the question, for Aeon's sake." Shadow grew frustrated, Before the silence could break, he'd inch close towards her. Not minding the uninvited eyes, his arms wrap around her waist, lips crashing into her own with fervor. Desperate, both members take the waltz together after an entire day of tension.

"haha…" He'd pant, eyes half lidded; releasing Shadow reluctantly.

"Haha.. can't get enough of me can you?"

Shadow's hand grasped the window of his shirt, clutching it for support while leaning in for another. "You're more attractive with your lips sealed." In quiet acceptance, he'd lean into it once again, smiling tenderly. To hell with it all, if this is what she desires, who is he to neglect her further?

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

Once this cycle meets an end, Shadow leans down to pick up her bag of contents. Meanwhile, Aventurine adjusts his clothes, smoothing them out as if nothing had happened. Taking care of each stay's hair, he'd treat her much the same.

"C'mon Doll, can't have you returning to your friends looking like this," Aventurine admits, admiring her tousled demeanor.

Shadow argues, "And who is responsible for my appearance?"

"You're more attractive with your lips sealed." Aventurine grins cheekily, pressing a finger against her lips momentarily.

Pulling away in due time, they'd bid their farewells.

Both she and he are left with more questions than answers, and neither would have it any other way. For once, content with a goodbye, knowing it won't be their last.

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

Fin.

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wordieworld-woo · 2 years ago

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If only I could save you

Prompt: “I’m falling for you and it's scaring the shit out of me”

This is an unedited one-shot set in my OC-Supernatural story. Some background, this is set at the end of Season 3. My character Abbie was raised into Hunting like the boys, and was raised by Bobby after her parents never returned. This is intended to be an eventual Destiel x Oc, but is subject to being changed.

Dean x Oc angst word count: 486

“Shit,” she mumbled glaring at her coffee that was now spilt across the table. After the day she was having it just made sense for yet another thing to fuck her over. It had only been a week since she left, bag in hand ready to start a normal life; away from the chaos that was Dean though this feeling of guilt and regret was drowning her to the point she couldn't breath. Abbie would have given anything for the deal she had made to become void, anything to get back on the road with the two brothers she had left behind, or help Sam one last time on his research. But she couldn't, all because Lilith had plans that she couldn’t interfere with.

She remembered the night she left under the pretence of an old friend in need, and how they were ready to assist in any way possible. She remembered the dread as she hugged Sam for what would be the final time until Dean's death, and the heartache that came with saying goodbye to Dean. But it wasn't like last time, there was no way out of her contract that didn't end with her being the one to send the man she loved to Hell. In spite of everything she kept close, watching over the boys and getting frequent updates from Bobby. Abbie was forced to stand by and watch as his time ticked away, as the end of his final year got closer to the point she couldn't avoid that pit in her heart.

It was, the night before he died when she saw him in person again, saw him sleeping peacefully through the night for once. She hadn't meant to end up there with the hell-hounds on his trails, she should have kept her distance. Abbie hadn't even noticed as she pulled up in front of Bobby's house where she was. Nor did she remember going in that room. Her heart sank at the sight of him, the knowledge of what would be waiting in hell made her sick. However she couldn't leave without saying something.

She leant down to him “I fell for you so quickly and completely,” she sighed “loving you sunk up on me Dean,” She paused the last few months sticking with her, the guilt of being away catching her off guard. “Honestly it’s scaring the shit out of me,”

“What happens to you in Hell… know you will survive it,”

“I’m gonna get you out, I swear.”

Pushing some hair from out his face she kissed his cheek, unlikely to see him again she left. Refusing to look back, knowing that if she did she wouldn't have the strength to walk away again. When she returned to her car; for the first time in six years she cried. Cried for all the missed opportunities, missed chances, and for the man she had never let herself love.

#castiel #dean winchester #bobby singer #fanfic #suoernatural #supernatural x oc #supernatural fan #sam winchester #angst #missed opportunity #mutual pinning #crowley #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural au #destiel x reader

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imaginativeworks · 2 years ago

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Writing prompt

Villain: (a bit agitated with their arms crossed as they look away from their hero) “Why is it that you try so hard to love everyone in the world so much?”

Hero: “Yes, I do try my best to love everyone I can in this world but truth be told. In my heart you are my world! The world in which I love so dearly and easily~”

Villain: (turns to looks at them, stunned) “Really?”

Hero: (not taking their eyes away from villain) “Undoubtedly~”

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k0k0-library · 1 year ago

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They love me... they love me not...

Levi’s last words were “I love you”. MC never got to say it back.(hanahaki desease)

The House of Lamentation was quiet, unusually quiet that morning. You couldn't hear either the secondborn making a money-centered charade or the seventh snoring in the background. Yet, what could be heard was a very particular, soft sound of petals hitting the ground; and it was a tiled floor...

Leviathan felt many things during his enourmous life span, as admiration, sometimes even obsession, were very much present in his life. Nothing, and by Gods I say, nothing could have prepared him enough for the things he was feeling right at this moment for a certain someone. They were in his mind, in his dreams, in his soul and thoughts; their voice echoing silently in his head while he tried to concentrate during games.

His life was full as it was and he had sworn that Ruri-Chan was the only one he would feel something strong about... because he was scared, scared that this was going to happen. Leviathan sat down on the ground, slowly, trying to calm his breathing.

cough

"Not now, please-" He coughed a third time as he put his hand over his mouth. Small Hydrangea petals making their way out of his lungs. The feeling was tingling, his throat was burning from the dried nectar and his mind rushed to the worst-case scenario. "What if..."

And with that, the room went quiet; Leviathan stopped coughing for now. He got up and went downstairs, only to find a couple of his brothers bored to death as there was nothing on the tv that they could watch. He sighed, and tried to look in the kitchen, only to find some chicken out for defrosting on the counter and a note addressed to the sixth 'Please don't eat it raw, Beel. I'm making rotisserie chicken tonight, xoxo'

It was their writing, and their pretty little hands touched it, wrote it; right not he didn't even care it wasn't meant for him because that little note was making his brain fuzzy and his breathing hard. "Would they ever write me a note... a love letter...? Am I even important... why am I not..?!" He was angry with both himself and the situation at hand.

cough

With each agonizing cough, his heart burns and his throat gets sore. He knows that the little timeglass that was started with the first petal he coughed 2 weeks ago was neer an end. 2 weeks was, for almost everyone that knows about hanahaki a miracle. Usually people die after a maximum of 7 days if the feelings are not reciprocated.... But he was a demon. And it seems that this had doubled the timespan for his suffering-

cough

Leviathans' mind started to haze more and he felt dizzy. He wanted to go back to his room and just text them to come quick. Going on a quest to find'em was both risky and physically hard for him at the moment. And so, he climbed the stairs grasping the railing for support more than ever.

His legs were wobbly and his heart beat faster. cough cough A few more steps and he would be there. cough cough His hand is on the handle and-

thud

He falls to the ground. Leviathan tried to scream for help, but he could barely breathe anymore. Petals... petals everywhere and now even a handful of blooms. He started to cry, his tears running down his cheeks as a desperate cry for help was muffled by the flowers. His eyelids were getting heavier with each breath that he tried to take. And soon, almost closing his eyes, he heard their voice one more time.

"Levi...!?"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date #swd #leviathan #levi #leviathan obey me #levi obey me #levi x mc #leviathan x mc #obey me imagines #obey me prompts #angst #happy ending #hanahaki desease #love life #crushes #unspoken love #mutual pinning

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daiples · 2 years ago

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i love your body because it belongs to you. i love your arms because you wrap them around me. i love your smile because it fills my heart. you're beautiful because i love you

#mutual pinning

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baohanhanesel · 2 years ago

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Beihai

Let me introduce, The ginger and his social butterfly with social anxiety!

I mean, The all mighty sect leader Khai Wang Guan and his respected academic rival Khai Baozhai... Who so happens to be his best friend and housemate.

They cannot live without each other, unfortunately.

What do you mean you cannot platonically marry your best friend who is your rival in order to care properly for him? What do you mean you cannot pin your best friend for years and be oblivious about it yourself? Hah. Couldn't be Guan and Baozhai.

#my ocs #original characters #oc stuff #it's complicated #we love each other #mutual pinning #oblivious #the struggle is real #artists on tumblr

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corvuserpens · 21 days ago

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A Girl, An Ocean {A Black Sails fanfic} - Ch. 7 (Part 1)

Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: None Characters: Billy Bones, Hal Gates, James Flint, Jean DuBois, Mr. Logan, Mr. Muldoon, Dooley, Max, Idelle, Charlotte, protagonist OC, supporting OCs Relationships: Billy Bones/OC, Hal Gates/OC (paternal), Max/OC (friends) Jean duBois/OC (bffs) Additional tags: Original character-centric, first person POV, canon character x original character romance, self-discovery journey, kinda alternative prequel to canon, canon compliant, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting sweetness, cute but also sexy, angst galore, found family, Hal Gates has two children now, canon typical violence Series: Part One of Six of A Girl, An Ocean Chapters: 7/13 Summary: The biological clock stops for no one and Constance has to figure out how to deal with her "time of the month" in an island full of degenerates. The solution turns out to be quite simple - and embarrassing.

Author's note: You kids ready to learn some history about periods and period products??? This and one other chapter will be divided into three parts because otherwise, they would also be huge. I'm sorry, I don't know how to write small. Go big or go home, right?

Chapter vii. Part i.

A week after landfall, the signs that my bleeding was coming began to flare up.

Normally, there was some kind of tell that would help me anticipate it - a sharp discomfort on my lower belly, tender breasts or back pain. In England, it meant spending a week shut in my bedroom, banned from social events due to my "indisposition." My maids would bring me fresh chaffoirs every two to three hours and make me herbal tea to help with the cramps. They kept me entertained by reading to me, playing cards or encouraging me to do embroidery.

I had hated it. I was a restless person by nature and spent as much time as I could outside, whether to take long walks, horseback riding or to pick flowers. Locking me up between walls was the worst conceivable punishment for someone like me.

But now I was in Nassau, my flowering was a day away or so and I had no way to manage it properly. My crew were all men, so they would be of no help. I didn't have the guts to go to Gates and he likely couldn't do anything for me, either way. I couldn't ask any random woman without dying of embarrassment. The subject was so taboo, even ladies would rather spare themselves the topic, unless it was to teach their own daughters, granddaughters or nieces.

I had no one who could aid me on that island.

With each anxious minute that passed, panic gripped me by the throat. What an abhorrent state to find myself in: desperately needing assistance only another woman could provide, yet too mortified to actually ask for it.

And then... I had an idea. It was desperate and no less humiliating, but what occurred to me was that I needed see someone who truly knew no shame, ironically enough. Someone who earned a living doing things no one had the guts to admit they enjoyed, and therefore probably wouldn't even bat an eyelash at my questions.

With squared shoulders and my heart in my mouth, I entered the brothel.

At first, I deeply regretted my choice. Right after crossing the threshold, I knew I was in a house of sin: the parlour was a actually a wide, colorful courtyard painted in light blue, with a ceiling opened to the sky that filled it with natural light, but even more cramped than the tavern. At the hour of my arrival, little before sundown, it was barely lit by candles on every table, on sconces, on the bar and behind it. Potted bougainvillea bushes bursting with pink flowers climbed up the walls. Cages containing song birds hung over the tables, while large parrots of every size and color imaginable perched on poles and the bougainvilleas. Their cackles and calls added to the noise filling the room.

Most noticeable of all, though... were the half nude, or entirely nude, women. Everywhere I looked they strutted around the tables as if fully clothed or sat on patron's laps, kissing them, touching them, their breasts and legs exposed for all to see. I thought my face would combust or that my knees would buckle at such a sight.

This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea.

I tried my best to keep a straight face and avoid looking people in the eye as I slowly made my way through them, toward the bar. Thank God no one from the Walrus was around at the time, but paranoia still led me to believe everyone was looking at me, judging me. Disoriented, I leaned on the counter and hung my head.

Should I call for someone? Should I wait and see if anyone would come to me? I didn't know what to do. The bar tender came up and asked me if I wanted a drink. I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded, even though I didn't drink. Then he asked me what I would like to have and my mind went blank for a second. Panicked, I scrambled for what I usually heard my crew mates order at the tavern and blurted out I wanted an ale. He gave me a funny look, like I was daft, but placed a tin cup in front of me and filled it with ale without a comment.

I sipped timidly from it and glanced around me. From the other end of the bar sat a man with the most strangely stylized facial hair and a scarf tied around his neck, fingers decorated with a variety of rings. Next to him was a smaller person, who wore a long, worn out frock and a wide brim hat that concealed their features. They conversed quietly, and when the smaller person tilted their head up, I saw the shimmer of red hair falling down their shoulders and a clear face of porcelain white skin.

That's when I realized it was a woman. Not one of the prostitutes, however; a woman like me - tomboyish, reserved, concealing a wild heart behind the flash of blue eyes, which promised violence to whomever dared piss her off.

"What have we here?"

I felt a hand on my shoulder, looked to the side and stopped breathing for a second.

By my side, the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon smiled with full, pink lips. Her skin was a lovely shade of light brown, smooth and immaculate like mine had never been. Her hair, done up in an intricate style, fell over one shoulder in thick violet brown curls. Her figure, voluptuous beneath a tight corset and a black shawl, was one to die for. I could have stare at her generous curves all day, if I'm to be honest.

But the most striking feature of hers were her eyes: they were almond shaped and a stunning hazel color, almost golden in the candle light, framed by thick lashes and bold black kohl.

"It's been a while since we've had a new comer. How refreshing to see such a delicate, innocent face." Her voice was like velvet and had the same French accent as Jean. She trailed her knuckles lightly down my cheek and I had to remember to breathe again. "What brings you to Max's doorway, I wonder?"

"I..." I cleared my throat and shook my head. Focus, you're here for one thing and one thing only. "I came... to see... what all the fuss was about?"

The woman chuckled sweetly as she tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "So you've never had a taste of the carnal pleasures and you're curious about its mysteries, hmm? Tell me: have you ever laid with a woman before?"

"No..." I admitted meekly.

"Have you ever laid with a man before?" She arched a perfectly drawn eyebrow at me.

"N-no," I choked, wishing there was a hole I could crawl into. It didn't seem to bother her, though. She took my hand into hers and caressed it, her smile never faltering.

"The untouched fruit is often the most appetizing, ma chère. And the forbidden one..." She leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "– is always the most delicious."

Again, I swallowed hard. I hated how dry my mouth felt, like I'd eaten dirt. And it wasn't because I didn't find her attractive, I did. It was just that... I wasn't attracted to her. Alright, maybe a little bit, but certainly not enough for me to want us to remove our clothes and -- oh, dear God.

"But you seem so flustered," she told me with a tilt of her gorgeous head. "Perhaps you would like some privacy while we get to know each other better, yes?"

"Uh-huh..." I nodded, took a shaky breath. "Aye, that's right. I'm very... very shy."

"I can see that," she giggled, giving my hand a squeeze before she started pulling me toward the stairs. "Come with me. There is nothing to be afraid of, or ashamed of. Let Max guide your through the garden of delights."

Without much of a choice, I followed her up to the second floor and let her bring me into a dark room, also lit by candles. A moderate sized bed, the wood of the frame chipped, like most of the furniture in that establishment, occupied one half of it. The sheets were clean, so that was something. On the corner there was a vanity, upon which make-up articles, hair brushes, ointments and perfumes laid in neat, organized rows. There was also a circular table and a few chairs, as well as a full-body mirror on the corner.

Max tugged me by the hand, gentle, and had me sit on the soft mattress. She wasted no time climbing onto my lap. I swear I almost died right there and then.

She chuckled when she saw my eyes, wide with shock and horror. “What's your name? What crew?” She purred while her fingers raked through my hair.

“Uh... Constance. Of the Walrus.” I leaned back, away from her reach, and planted my hands on the bed, as far away from her body as possible.

“The Walrus?” She sounded impressed. “The Walrus has a female member? There really is a first time for everything.”

I cleared my throat and stammered: “Listen, I have a confession to make.”

“How intriguing,” she hummed, clearly not at all discouraged by my show of discomfort. She did take her hands out of my hair and instead tugged at my new shell necklace, toying with it as she watched me. “But before we proceed, perhaps it would be best if I told you what you should be prepared to pay for.”

“Right, about that...” I shut my eyes tight and took a deep breath to ready myself for the plunge. Just blurt it out and get it over with. “I'm actually not here to be... serviced. Per say.”

Now she truly was confused. A small divot formed between her eyebrows as she tilted her head sideways. “Oh? Then why are you here?”

“Could you...” I gestured for her to move out from her position on top of me. “If it would not offend, I would rather you... sit by my side.”

Max shrugged, got off and sat cross-legged at my left, half-reclining on one hand. Her hazel gaze watched me intently as I straightened up and fiddled with the fabric of my sleeve.

“First of all, I apologize for leading you on, and I still fully intend to pay for your time. But what I really need is... I need to know where I can get chaffoirs.”

Her eyebrows hiked up so high, they almost touched her hair line. For a few seconds all she did was stare at me. And then she blinked a couple of times and laughed.

Actually laughed, with grace but from the bottom of her heart. My face burned something fierce, prompting me to press my mouth tight and look away. Might as well let her get it out of her system. God, she must think I'm such a fool.

“That... Oh, mon Dieu, c'est tout?” She chortled some more, even doubled over from how hard she laughed. I was almost tempted to get up and leave, were I not so desperately out of options.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny. Now will you help me or not? I'm in a tight spot of bother, here!”

“Forgive me, forgive me.” Max sat up straight, took a couple of deep breaths through her nose and finally calmed. She contemplated me with another of those mysterious smiles. “Out of all the disgusting, forbidden things I expected to hear, that was at the very bottom of the list. But then again... I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised. You are new here, are you not?”

“What gave it away?” I grumbled.

In response, she reached out to pat my knee before getting up to go to the vanity. She opened the drawer and from it produced three cloth bags, filled up to look like miniature pillows.

She returned to me on the bed and offered them. “These should hold you out for a day. Go to the seamstress, down the street, next to the shoemaker. She makes and sells these. Don't be shy about it. In Nassau, shame is not something common to see. She won't ask questions and you need not explain anything.”

My chest deflated in relief as I accepted the chaffoirs. They smelled strongly of dry grass and moss, but also something floral... jasmine, maybe? I looked up at Max and finally managed a smile.

“Thank you. Truly. How much do you want for these?”

She waved me off. “Perish the thought. They are a gift. Consider the laugh you gave me payment enough.”

“But won't you get into trouble with the Madam or your boss? I don't want you to be punished for my inexperience and ignorance.”

Max gave me a strangely affectionate look, then brushed a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. Her fingers traced the contour of my cheek bone, followed my jaw line and cupped my chin.

This time, I didn't pull back. There weren't any sexual connotations in that touch. Honestly, I couldn't describe what it was, only that it was... sincere.

“You are very kind, Constance.” She told me. Her smile faltered. “Kindness is dangerous in this world. It can get you killed. I would advise you to restrain it as much as possible, as I would hate to see yet another kind person be devoured by the depravity that runs rampant in this island.”

I smirked and shrugged. “Depravity runs rampant everywhere. This place just doesn't bother hiding it. I know what I got myself into.”

Following Flint's suggestion, I had heard some of the crew's stories. Many of them spoke of unimaginable horrors, that they themselves had committed and that had been committed to them. Besides, I was not so ignorant that I didn't know people would be hanged, shot or decapitated for their crimes, some of them not so serious that they justified a death penalty - like men loving men and women loving women.

I was certain that my own taste lied in the former exclusively, but others involving themselves in relations with their own gender was completely inconsequential to me. I was aware there were at least two men in my own crew who were engaged into matelotage – partners for financial gain, so that if one of them died, his wage and possessions would pass to the other. However, I had been told there was more to it. Personally, I had seen nothing that would indicate it, except for maybe a few loaded looks and small smiles they exchanged with one another. One thing I knew for certain, though: if they loved each other, would die for each other, and made each other happy, then who was I to tell them they were wrong for it? Who was I to deny them their love?

Max released my chin and closed her shawl around herself with a smirk that mirrored my own. “We shall see. Are you sure there is nothing more I can do for you, ma chère?”

“I'm sure,” I said whilst getting up. I was almost a head taller than her, yet her posture, regal and confident, made me feel much smaller. “Don't get me wrong, you are very beautiful and alluring, but... I prefer my partners taller than me and broader of shoulders.”

Billy came to my mind unprompted - his heavy brow and gentle blue eyes watching me, his full lips pulled into a secret smile... His strong arms around me, keeping me close to his chest as we hung from the Walrus' mast.... The smell of him, intoxicating, almost arousing. I grimaced and pushed him out of my brain.

A knowing glint shone in Max's eyes. “From the look on your face, you have someone specific in mind.”

With another blush, I turned my head to the side and neglected to reply. I had a feeling there was no lie I could tell her she would believe. Someone in her line of work probably knew all the tricks and would spot them a mile away.

“I've wasted enough of your time, I believe. I should get going.” I reached around my back and grabbed a handful of silver coins that I extended to her.

Max puffed. “I told you, that won't be necessary.”

“I insist. I won't be missing these. Please take it as a token of my gratitude.”

She hesitated a while longer, then stretched her hand to pick three coins out of the mound in my palm. “Three chaffoirs, three pieces. And let it be the end of it. Deal?”

I smiled and put the remaining coins back in my pocket. “Deal. Have a good night, Max. And thank you, once more.”

I nodded courteously and went to the door, though I spared her one last smile before leaving.

As I was going down the stairs, feeling considerably more relaxed, someone shouted my name. My heart dropped to my feet when I recognized the voice as Muldoon's. He occupied at a table in the parlour with Logan and Dooley, each of them accompanied by a working girl.

Shit, they had spotted me. What was I going to tell them? I could make a run for the exit, but that would only be delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, I would be forced into closed quarters with them and I would have to explain why I had been at the brothel. There was no escape.

In the end, I decided it was best to get it over with as soon as possible, so I quickly hid my chaffoirs in the inner pocket of my new frock and made my way toward them.

"Fellas," I greeted with a slight tremble in my voice.

"You're the last person I expected to see here," said Logan. The blonde sitting on his lap peered me up and down, as if evaluating me, and my insides shriveled.

I never did like to have other women look at me. Not even neutrally, without a specific expression on their faces. It always made me feel... inadequate. Like I didn't belong. I had to remind myself I was no longer a lady, but a pirate; therefore, I was no longer bound by the strict standards of beauty imposed on me by civilized society.

Forcing my head up and my back to straighten, I returned her stare in defiance. "I presume this is Charlotte?"

"She is." Logan grinned, completely oblivious to our silent combat as she narrowed her eyes and I balled my hands into fists. "Charlotte, this is our newest recruit, Constance Tilly."

"A pleasure," she said amicably enough, though I caught a note of tension in her words. "You've never taken up a woman before. How is she as a sailor?"

"She's learning." Logan furrowed his brow at her, finally noticing that something was off. "Not so bad."

"And they didn't take me on," I added. A smirk twisted my mouth with malice that I didn't bother to conceal. "I forced myself on them."

The men chortled, since it was true, but Charlotte wrinkled her nose at me and brushed back Logan's hair like she was laying her claim on him. If only she knew how much I wasn't interested in him (nor he in me). For his part, Logan leaned into her neck and placed a love bite there, which at least got her to smile and tear her gaze away from mine.

"Anyway," Muldoon quipped up. "What're you doing here? Don't tell me you finally decided to stop being a fucking prude?"

Jesus Christ, I couldn't tell them the truth. They would either be disgusted or laugh at me, and I wasn't sure which of those was worst. Without a better plan, I shrugged my shoulders and ignored how my cheeks flared up.

"I admit, I got a little curious."

"Ohh, there we go!" Dooley cackled. "Please, tell us all about it! Who did you do it with?"

"Um..." I glanced up to Max's door, still shut. "With Max."

Muldoon and Dooley hummed in approval. My guess was they had each been up there with her.

"Couldn't have picked someone better for your first time," Dooley nodded.

"Aye, she's the best. Got magical fingers and an even more magical mouth. Uh, no offense, Idelle, darling--"

He squirmed under the glare the courtesan hanging on his arm was shooting him. She was a woman of silky black hair and generous attributes, which she accentuated with a tight corset.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but I jumped at the opportunity to say: "I would be so offended, if I were you."

"I kind of am, actually," Idelle agreed. "Perhaps I should leave and fetch Max instead, since she is so great."

"No, I mean, obviously all you lovely girls are talented and beautiful," Muldoon sputtered. "It's just that Max is... She's..."

"Shut your fucking trap, man." Logan sighed. "You're embarrassing yourself and us."

Muldoon showed him the finger, but said nothing further.

"So tell us, Constance." Dooley again, with an eager spark in his eye. "How was it? Your first time with a woman?"

I searched the ceiling for inspiration, arms crossed tight over my chest.

"It was... an experience," I lied. "A lady doesn't reveal the most private parts of her life. I will say, however, that women are definitely not my cup of tea. Now I know. I will stick to men, from now on."

"Have you actually even laid with a man, before?" Logan asked with obvious doubt.

"I know she would like to lay with Billy," Muldoon jabbed.

My heart kicked sharply in my chest. "Shut the fuck up, Muldoon."

"Remember the way she was looking at him, after he saved her?" He brought a hand to his forehead with a dramatic flare and pitched his voice as high as he could. "Oh, Billy! My hero! You saved my life... Take me here. I'm ready."

Dooley and Logan doubled over, laughing so loud that the other patrons and working girls looked at them from their tables. On the other hand, I contorted my face into a barely concealed snarl and smacked my hand over Muldoon's bald head.

"Ow, bitch! Alright, I'll stop!"

"Hold on a minute." Charlotte raised a hand in a 'stop' motion and pinched her brow. "Billy? As in, Billy Bones?"

"The very same," Muldoon said while rubbing the back of his head.

Idelle snorted softly. "Don't waste your time. Out of all the men in Nassau, he's the only one who rarely comes here. And when he does, he never partakes. He's not interested in sex, like, at all.” Again, she rolled her eyes. “Such a bore."

"And a shame," added the woman tending to Dooley. "He's so handsome. Only God could put a man with a face and a body like that on this earth and then punish us by making him too honorable to visit us."

"Hey, at least you have us!" Dooley protested. "We're perfectly agreeable. Right, Constance?"

I made an indescribable noise somewhere between a choke and a snort. Even so, I nodded. "You could do worse than this lot, I'll give you that."

"I suppose that's true," Idelle sighed as she rubbed a hand into Muldoon's collar. "There are much worse options."

Muldoon glanced at me and mouthed a "thank you". I patted his shoulder and straightened my frock. Idelle's comment had dropped into my chest like a stone, but I refused to let them see my disappointment.

"Alright, I'm out of here,” I said. “I got what I came for, so now I'm gonna crash. Have fun, boys. Ladies."

"Have some sweet dreams about Billy!" Muldoon teased as I made my way to the door. "Or rather, some sensual ones."

I stopped.

Turned around.

Marched up to him, leaned down so I could look him right in the eyes and said: "May you lose all your money the next time you gamble."

And I walked out the door, with Muldoon cursing me to my grave while the others laughed.

At the inn, whilst I made my way up the stairs, I couldn't shake what Idelle and her colleague had said about Billy. Don't waste your time. He's the only one who rarely comes here. Too honorable to visit us.

Why did that bother me so much? I should be glad of it. At least he didn't spend all his free time jumping from bed to bed, like the others did. Maybe he was just old fashioned and believed sex was something only married or engaged couples did. Maybe he was saving himself for the right person. Either way, it was none of my business. Billy was entitled to his preferences, like everyone else.

… Then why was I still thinking about it?

As I entered my room and stripped my clothes, I couldn't help to feel a sting in my heart at the thought that maybe I didn't stand a chance. God, but why would I want to have a chance with him? He was my boatswain and my friend, sort of. It was clear he had some sort of affection for me, though... it was likely no different than the kind he harbored for every one of his mates.

I let out a sigh. Muldoon was right, ever since Billy had saved my life, I was acting like a love struck teenager. I hadn't felt this way for a man since I was seventeen years old. We barely knew each other and I certainly hadn't given him any motive to find me attractive. I was the least feminine woman in the entire town, except for maybe the red headed one sitting at the bar, in the brothel, the one talking to the extravagant gentleman.

I placed Max's chaffoirs on the dresser by the bed and pulled on a pair of undies to sustain them. I was sure that I would be bleeding come morning, and the last thing I needed was to soil the inn's sheets.

Ah, fuck it. Who gave a shit? I had never needed a man's affection to feel whole. I was living my dream, getting to travel, work on a ship, dress however I wanted and going wherever I pleased, when I pleased. I lacked for nothing. What did I care if Billy, or Charlotte, or anyone for that matter, thought I was beautiful?

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. I pulled down my sleeping shift and slipped on my frock before opening a crack. Jean grinned at me from the other side.

"Hello. I saw you coming upstairs and thought about asking if you wanted to join us downstairs for a round of cards. We're short one."

I glanced down at my sleeping attire and thought about refusing, but really, all I had to do was put some trousers on and I would be good, right?

He also noted my clothes. "Ah, I see. You're going to bed. My apologies. Another time, perhaps."

"Actually, you know what?" I looked up at him and smirked. "I'm not that tired. One second."

I closed the door, grabbed a fresh pair of pants and pulled them on. There, perfectly decent. An evening spent with my friends drinking, playing cards and swapping stories was exactly what I needed, after the day I'd had.

Jean was resting back against the wall beside my door when I emerged from the room. "Let's go. I could use a distraction."

"Anything you want to tell me about?" He inquired as we walked together down the stairs and into the common room, where Bjorn and Thierry were already waiting around a square table near the center.

"No. Not tonight. It's not that important, either way."

And it wasn't. One day I would tell him all about my ridiculous day and my feelings for Billy, but for tonight, I just wanted to play cards. My problems could wait until the morrow. For the time being, I was only going to enjoy my friends' company and have some fun. And that was enough to cheer me up.

#black sails #black sails fanfic #billy bones #hal gates #bs max #bs idelle #alternative prequel #oc centric #slow burn #mutual pinning #canon character x original character romance #found family #friends to lovers #stories by Crow #a girl an ocean fanfic

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