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shivada-jade · 3 years ago

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songs of a siren

characters: venti, beidou, kazuha, albedo ➡ mention(s): xiangling, ningguang, sucrose, timaeus, peepaw warning(s): yo ho ho me hearties

note: whenever i write venti, i always have 27 tabs of rhymezone opened up. my rhyming vocabulary will be unstoppable in a few weeks time. no one can stop me, it will be sublime

Venti:

Venti has seen many things in his free-spirited life. He's seen many different lives and creatures, but something he has never seen before are the fabled sirens of the sea.

"Beware of the sirens!" The old captains of Teyvat warned, "Their music is captivating and will drown you into sea."

"Music?" The bard asks with sparkling eyes.

The old sea captain squints her eyes. "Bard, do you have selective hearing? The sirens will drown you in sea."

Venti laughs, "But I've never heard of singing sirens! Just sirens. I wish to see one."

"Younglings these days," the captain shakes her head, tipping her chair back just enough so she wouldn't fall.

"I'm actually older than I look, you can see me in many books," he chuckles, hopping off the table right outside of Angel's Share.

"Thank you for your sea tips captain!" He says, tipping his hat in a bow with a hand behind his back. "I'll put it to jolly good use. With your knowledge, I'll make sure nothing bad will happen!"

Venti sneakily snatches an apple from a sleeping person's hand and saunters on his way, whistling a few notes.

"Sirens of the Sea will be my next tune!"

Everyday, Venti comes out playing his lyre to the sea, hoping he would be able to hear someone sing back. He made his winds carry his song to the deepest part of the waters, trying to catch the attention of sirens.

And everyday, he would return to the tavern, fruitless as the patrons pat his back singing a drunken song.

The young adults nearby would shake their heads, kindly telling Venti that sirens are not real. The grandparents' eyes would twinkle when they heard Venti playing the song for the sirens while kids would sit next to Venti who played his lyre at the docks.

His green cape flew back as he played a different style of music, one that's more mellow and calm compared to the upbeat kind he plays so often. There, he swears he sees the flip of a tail far beyond the ocean.

He bid farewell to the children and apologize for not being to able to play more music for them. "I'll be back if you bring apples!"

Venti waves goodbye and walks out the exits of Mondstadt.

His legs brush the long grass, reaching to touch his hand as he hikes up Starsnatch Cliff, until he remembers he can fly. Oops.

Swirls of teal lift his feet, representing the winds carrying him to the top. The blue of the sky reflected on the waters, and he decides today is the perfect day to sing for his siren again.

Letting his lashes rest on his cheeks, he plays the same mellow tune at the docks, sometimes peeking with one eye to see if the siren is there.

That's when he hears it. The sound of a loud splash ringing in his ear. His lyre playing turns quick and exited, when looking down to see a bobbing head, and a colourful siren tail behind it.

Venti waves his hand wildly, stopping his lyre playing momentarily.

"A real siren!"

The siren freezes, and sinks a bit deeper in the water. The green bard slowly floats down with a friendly smile.

"Did you enjoy my music?" He asks in glee, waiting for an answer. Venti hovers right above the water so his clothes won't get wet. He sees the siren's eyes look at the instrument in his hand and pushes it to their face, making them lean back a bit from shock. "Do you wanna try the lyre?"

"The lyre?" The siren repeats, gliding a finger on the wood of the instrument.

"Just don't sing okay? I can't drown yet, my pride is still high, and the kids there would be in dismay."

The siren laughs, now gripping on the lyre, "Do you always speak like this?"

"Yep!" He says, relieved you feel comfortable with him and seem friendly too. He scratches the back of his head. "Although... you're taking this lightly. Is it true your singing drowns people?" He asks politely.

The tip of the siren's finger touches their lip, thinking. "Well, in some cases, it does."

Venti's eyes widen.

"But not in the way your folktale mention it!" The siren continues, now clasping on the lyre that Venti let go of, playing a few strings. "Sometimes when our folk sing, the sailors are curious where the singing comes from. But the sailor that spread the story of the deadly, singing sirens is The Sailor That Can't Swim."

"The Sailor That Can't Swim? Now that's a tale I need to hear! Though, I must say, I do pity for him."

The siren splashes Venti, making him dripping in cold water. The berette on his head now droops to his eyes. He grins mischievously as he wrings the water out, showing the hair he hides. A strong gust of wind dries the siren's face, making them go back in the water to splash Venti.

"Right, so," the siren pops out their head again. "It was my great great grandfather that actually sang the song. The sailor was curious and fell off his ship, but he didn't know how to swim and drowned. His first mate blamed my great great grandfather's singing for making his captain drown. We're not bad actually. We stopped singing music so close to the surface."

"Wouldn't that be a sight," the bard hums, listening to the song you play on his lyre while looking at the sky above. "Say, Siren. What do you want me to call you? Let me know before the day turns night"

"You ask me my name before telling me yours?" The siren teases, giving his lyre back.

"Ah! My apologies, I'm Venti the bard!... Uh, I can't seem to get a word that rhymes with 'apologies' that go great with my sentence, so I hope you accept my repentance."

"It's alright." The siren says. "I'm [Name]. It's not everyday I can make friends with someone from the surface."

[Name] draws a figure in the air. "My first surface friends told me to be wary of others, but I think I can trust you," [Name] glances at the green glass, strapped on Venti's hip. "One of them even has the same looking glass orb as you. A vision he called it."

Venti shrugs with a smile, feeling like he knows the person the siren was referring to, "I would like to make a song for you, [Name]. Let's have others know what a wonderful siren you are."

Kazuha:

He sits at the side of the ship, playing his leaf like a flute beautifully. The crewmates on The Crux hum the same notes on repeat. They are broken records.

"Even the sturgeon and the ray, they get the urge and start to play!" A kid sings out loud, skipping behind Kazuha.

"Hmm hmm mmm" the kid hums, replacing the words he doesn't know with just the tune itself. "Under the sea!"

Kazuha sighs, letting go of his leaf for the ocean winds to take. His finger traces the lines of the ship, bored and somewhat annoyed. Beidou's crew had been singing the same song for hours after leaving Liyue, showing no signs of ever stopping. It was like a curse.

He looks over the horizon, the crescent moon shining on the ocean, making the ripples turn to satin sheets covering the water. The world is asleep, but not The Crux Crew.

He lets his hair free from the tie; snow hair moves with the breeze, waiting for his friend to appear.

A tall woman settles her hand on the boy's shoulders, sighing. "It's time to get rest. Your siren friend won't come, especially if sirens don't exist," she says saying the last part to herself.

"Beidou," Kazuha greets without turning his head.

"Come on, kid," Beidou insists. "It's late."

Kazuha stays seated, looking over the waters to find his siren friend. "I think I'll stay here a bit more. The ocean calls me as much as the wind."

He feels Beidou's hand leaving is shoulder. He silently thanks him for respecting his wishes.

"Good night, Captain. See you tomorrow," he says waving her off.

The sea captain lifts a hand while turning away, even when she knows Kazuha isn't looking.

Kazuha waits.

He waits some more.

Maybe Beidou is right. His siren friend won't be back today. He'll just wait again tomorrow.

He begins to stand until he sees a familiar figure in the ocean.

"[Name]," he breathes out gently.

A shimmering siren tail waves at him instead of a hand. Kazuha laughs and waves eagerly. He walks along the side, reaching one of the 'emergency boats' strapped on the ship and untangles its ropes, letting it fall to the ocean with a splash.

He gently falls down, the winds he summons cushioning his landing onto the small boat. His ruby eyes spot something in your hand and he asks about it.

"This? A weird green boy gave me this thing called a lyre. Said he had tons more so he gave me this one after making a song with me." [Name] presents it to Kazuha with both hands, grinning. "The boy even taught me a song."

"Oh?" He tilts his head, "Go ahead, play the song. Perhaps some day we may duet."

The siren sends him a thumbs up and start pulling the strings of a lyre.

Kazuha feels his eye twitch. "This song... what's the name?"

"Do you not like it?"

"No it's just... the crew was singing this song all day. I was wondering what song it is."

"Oh the green boy and I made it. I didn't know it would go that famous!"

"Hmm, keep playing."

Kazuha didn't mind the song the siren plays. After all, when [Name] plays the song, it sounds enchanting. He understands why people tend to fall overboard when hearing a siren play music. In fact, he almost drowned himself when hearing his siren friend sing for the first time.

...

He was preparing a boat to escape Inazuma by a secluded beach covered with sakura trees and many plants of nature.

Placing the planks in one spot, he hears a song in the sea.

Strange.

Enchanted by the singing, he walks out to sea. The water reaching his ankles, his knee then soon his chest to look for what was making the music. The sounds of nature call him back, desperately trying to make him safe, but he was too curious. The singing stops and Kazuha sinks under the sea to hear clearer, but instead his eyes widen and a few bubbles escape his mouth.

Glowing eyes stare at him.

A few scales pattern adorning their face. He looks behind the face and sees a tail, a fish tale. He knows it's a siren.

He sinks deeper, noting the details on the siren. How human ears aren't there, it's replaced by these webbed-like frills looking like a crown. He is amazed, and it seems the siren is too by seeing land legs for the first time so close.

Kazuha kicks his feet up, remembering he needs air to breathe, but a pesky seaweed wrapped around his leg, not letting go. The salt water stings his eyes, hurting more from every second. The lungs that need air start to fail him.

The siren in front of him flicks it's tail, quickly weaving their hands to untangle the boy from the seaweed.

The last of the bubbles escape Kazuha's lips. He shuts his eyes as he feels the drag of a current and the arms of the siren taking him to who knows where.

"So many... regrets," he thinks, letting himself be carried by a creature from only fairytales.

His head breaks the water tension and he immediately gasps for air. He coughs out water, chest heaving against the sandy beach, trying to calm himself. He stills, watching the siren lay on their stomach next to him, drawing flowers and fishes on the sand with the tip of their finger.

Sand sticks on Kazuha's wet skin and clothes.

"Thank you," he says weakly.

The siren perks their head up, hearing Kazuha's voice. "You're welcome!" They return to drawing on the sand and speak up without diverting attention from the drawing, "You're... the first human I've met."

Kazuha props himself up, his elbows acting as support. "Oh really? You're the first siren I met."

"No, duh. You had this dumb look on your face when you saw me," the siren teases, now looking at Kazuha. "All the other sirens say that humans are looking to hurt us. Why is it you don't want to hurt me?"

"Well- I was on the verge of dying."

The sound of feet stomping on the ground startles Kazuha and his new friend. Both of them sit up straight, feeling the ground shake.

"The Raiden Shogun..."

Kazuha flips his head to his unfinished boat and stands, quickly trying to complete it.

"Human," the siren calls, now back in the ocean. Kazuha looks at the siren. "Your broken boat will not take you anywhere. Just hold on to my back."

Kazuha chuckles and runs to the siren, knowing what they said is true. The guards will take him the second they reach him.

He trudges through the water, and clasps his arms around the siren's neck. "I know of a ship that can hide me for the time being." He says.

"So... what's your name?"

...

The song [Name] plays ceases, and Kazuha claps his hands lightly, careful not to wake the crew. He gives a small, "Heh" and leans on his small boat to be closer to the siren's face.

Their faces draw closer and [Name's] cheeks feel warm. Kazuha looks like a prince under the moon and stars shining on him.

Delicate hands make their way to cradle [Name's] jaw, making their foreheads touch. His thumb swipes [Name's] bottom lip all while gazing into their dilated eyes.

"I think your siren family are calling you," Kazuha says cheekily and quickly moving back away from [Name] after hearing the sound of other sirens calling for them.

"Oh, I- Well-" [Name] takes a deep breath before speaking, "Will you be here again?"

"Just as the moon awaits for the sun to rise once more, I will stay as well. I'll wait for your arrival once more at the same spot."

Beidou:

The well known Captain of the Crux Fleet does not believe in sirens. Dragons and the water form called Osial is one thing. Sirens, or better yet- merpeople are a kids' tale in her mind. Not even after Kazuha telling her he befriended a siren.

It's a child's tale; a myth not to believe in, which is ridiculous in Kazuha's opinion because they live in a world of myths.

She stands, sitting on a box of crates, peeking at her anemo wielding friend untangle the ropes of the emergency boat to get down closer to the waters.

Despite her crew telling her to rest at nights, she doesn't. As captain, it's her duty to keep watch after all her crew members, ensuring full safety on the fleet. She watches Kazuha always docking down from her ship to he his siren, but she never follows, only seeing his white hair descend from her sight.

Kazuha harnesses the wind to lift himself up back on the ship after hours being with the so-called siren. His hands move, controlling the wind once again to lift the boat, strapping it back on the ship. His ruby eyes glint to Beidou, who waves at him.

"Enjoy time with the siren?"

Kazuha sighs, knowing Beidou's doing this for the sake of it. "Beidou, they're real. My friend and every other siren in the waters." He says, trying to cover his flushed face by turning away from her.

"Right, right. Well, you only have one hour to sleep at most until the sun rises again."

"What about you?" Asks Kazuha, his back still facing Beidou. "Not even the bravest of warriors could stand their posts if they lack the energy to do so."

Beidou places her hands on her hips and laughs, "Come on, kid. I'll even tuck you in."

"Thank you... but I'm quite sure I can tuck myself in."

"Nonsense. You'll be tucked in."

She takes Kazuha to his own chambers in the ship, amused how he did not struggle against her.

After tucking him in, the tall captain stands at the figure of her ship and overlooks the sea. It is coincidental how when the topic of sirens came up the conversations, there was a song accompanied by it. The song will be the death of her.

Her chestnut hair weaves in the wind as she inhales deeply, enjoying the crisp air. She spots the seen peeking out from it's blanket of blue waves. She is blessed with another day.

One by one, her crew starts to file out. She greets them a good morning and with a surprise, "Crew! We're heading to Liyue. Chef Xiangling sent her kind invitation to eat for free!"

Woops and hoorays echo. Food made by Xiangling is the best.

The Captain lifts a hand and everyone quiets, "Set sail to Liyue!"

Upon reaching Liyue, Beidou swears something was following them, but every time she looks back, there would be nothing. She shrugs it off, thinking it was the lack of sleep getting to her and continues to lower the sails, preparing to land.

"I'll meet you there," she tells her crew. They accept their orders, already knowing were to go. They chatter their way to Wanmin Restaurant. She turns to Kazuha, seeing as he won't leave without her. "Kazuha, has something been following us?" She asks, knowing his sensitivity to things around him.

"Yes, but you won't believe me if I said what, or who, was following us."

Beidou groans, "Kazuha, sirens are just a folklore. I've spent years in my reckless teenage life looking for sirens. There just aren't any." She slaps Kazuha's back, "Let's go eat. You still look weary."

Kazuha purses his lips, looking at his Captain dead in the eyes. "[Name] is waiting below this ship. [Name] wouldn't follow us to Liyue unless something needs to be said." He waits for Beidou's reply.

"Alright, it's about time I met this siren friend of yours."

Surprised, Kazuha parts his mouth. "Wait, really?"

Beidou gives no answer, but instead unties the boat Kazuha uses to go 'meet his siren friend.' She waits on the tiny boat for Kazuha to join. When he takes a step in, Beidou releases the ropes she was once holding and falls to the ocean. This part of the ship is hidden from the people of Liyue, and Kazuha thanks his luck because who knows what people will do when they see a siren?

The small boat rocks side to side, balancing itself. Beidou lazily reaches for the water and splashes Kazuha's face who only tightens his lip in response. "Relax," the woman teases. "Your friend will be here if they're real, right?"

Kazuha summons a leaf, twiddling it with his fingers, waiting until he jumps in the water.

Beidou sharply turns to Kazuha, leaning over the boat to reach for him. "Kazuha!"

She jumps in after him with a smooth dive.

And that's when she sees that sirens are true.

The salt water stings her eyes as she looks at Kazuha making hang motions, pointing to her and up to the surface. The siren nods, understanding, swimming to Beidou. They wave, chuckling with the jaw-slacked face the sea captain makes.

Bubbles escape her lungs, so she treads up quickly, breathing in the air and then coming back down. Kazuha swims beside the siren and shows a smug face, as if saying "What did you say about sirens?"

Divine is the only word to describe Kazuha's siren friend. From the shimmering tale to the beauty of their smile, Beidou can only describe the siren as simply divine (a word Ningguang taught her).

The siren's webbed-like ear perks up to the surface. They tap Kazuha's shouder and cup their ears and point up.

Breathtaking.

Beidou notes how Kazuha and his friend communicate with each other so effectively with only a look in the eye and a few hand movements.

Kazuha nods, smiling then swims up to the surface, but Beidou stays, amazed by the tail of the siren.

"Up," the siren mouths. Beidou remembers the pain in her lungs for not having to get air in a while. She swims up, giving the siren one last look and breaking free from the water.

Strands of brown hair stick to her skin, looking at Kazuha with so much child-like wonder.

"Kazuha, is your siren friend single by any chance?"

Albedo:

Rumours of the singing siren spread through Mondstadt. Greeting Timaeus and Sucrose, he ignores the new song that spread around Teyvat called "A Siren's Tale," but he can't help but wonder if the tales are true.

On rare days Albedo isn't on Dragonspine or his office, he's sketching alongside the water and the marine life inside. It's a new interest he's taken in after learning everything above land. The ocean is so huge, there's an endless amount of questions under the sea.

He finishes the last stroke of a drawing. The Snapdragon and the crab next to it look realistic in his canvas. He sits on an isolated rock, a good distance away from the beach, enjoying the calming tunes of the ocean.

Wait- tunes?

He almost drops his canvas and charcoal, making eye contact with a bobbing head. Curious eyes flit from Albedo to his sketch in hand.

His immediate reaction is to create a flower to lift and up to glide back to shore, but he can't.

The stranger drifts closer to the rock Albedo sits on, revealing a tail that flickers behind it.

A siren.

"You aren't Venti, but I'll take it. I love someone of arts and crafts

Albedo tilts his head quizzically, charmed, "I am indeed not Venti, but thank you for the compliment." He takes a while, studying the details on the siren. "You're not what the song describes you as."

Lifting themselves onto the rock beside Albedo, the siren brings up their tail to wrap around what they sit on. "The song? Oh the one Venti made. I'm so sure we described myself perfectly, partly because I helped make it."

Albedo takes another canvas from his bag and draws circles to get the base of a face, "Well, physically yes. It captures your looks, but never did it once mention how enchanting you are."

The siren sputters, obviously not expecting a stranger to flirt. "What- huh?"

Albedo laughs, looking at the siren that sits next to him, analyzing their features before returning to his sketch. "I apologize. Socializing is not my thing."

"Yeah, I could tell. People usually tell me their names before saying things like that. Granted, I only met three other people before you."

"One being Venti?"

"Yeah. I visit him around this time everyday, but he said he's struggling to pay back a bartender so he's hiding with an old friend in Liyue. His friend's name is Peepaw. Should've been back by now, but he's gone."

"..Oh."

Two fingers push down the drawing and he looks at the siren, confused.

"Are you drawing me?" They grin. "It's fantastic, but why?"

Albedo explains, "I tend to sketch what fascinates me. Your beauty was surprising, I couldn't help but draw you." His charcoal grazes the canvas so swiftly, it's dancing on ice. The black tool turns to a stub, until it turns to nothing but ashes on his finger. His sketch is only half finished.

"Excuse this lousy drawing. I appear to be out of charcoal."

The siren jumps into the water and comes back up with rusted metal from a sword. "Will this work?"

"Ah, that's a sword. I can't use that for sketching."

"Oh..."

Albedo lifts a finger, a thought is said out loud, "I realize I have yet to ask your name. I'm Albedo, Chief Alchemist of The Knights of Favonius."

"Wow that's a long name." The siren takes a deep breath and speaks in one go, "Hello, Albedochiefalchemistofthenightsoffavonius. Pleasure to meet you, I'm [Name]."

"How charming." He says, putting his canvas in his bag. "I mean to ask another question, would it be alright to visit you again soon? You live under the sea, surely you know about the mysteries we have there."

[Name] looks at him like he was an alien. "Are you for real?"

"I'm pretty sure I am."

"You can just tell me you want to hang out. I know I'm fun," they say puffing their chest, proud of themselves.

"You certainly have high views of yourself," Albedo laughs, covering the bottom half of his face with his charcoal stained hand. "I'll be here tomorrow, if you would take your time to see me again."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #genshin #venti x reader #genshin venti #beidou #beidou x reader #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader

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solartranslations · 2 years ago

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AF2 Common 12/15: Intelligence’s Strategy

The sailors of Intelligence also specialize in conducting background checks…

~*Scene: Felicita’s Room*~

Felicita: *Zzz*

Gli Amanti: Good evening, Ojou-san

Gli Amanti: You aren’t aware of it, but someone is making a move

Gli Amanti: Be cautious, my host

Gli Amanti: The Tarocco is a difficult thing. It requires compensation. That has not changed

Gli Amanti: But as for what will it accept it return

Gli Amanti: Do you have a guess, my host?

~*Scene: Harbor Street*~

Passenger Ship Crew: I’ll need to check your tickets. What is the purpose of your trip?

Orso: Nordia for tourism

Nino: The lord and lady are going for their honeymoon

Passenger Ship Crew: I see! Then I hope they enjoy their trip

(*smile) Nino: Yes, thank you

~*Flashback: SS Arcana*~

Dante: Intelligence will be conducting a top secret mission. The five of us will be pursuing Vir and Teo

Dante: We’ll meet up at the harbor inn, Ricola, tomorrow morning

Felicita: [Jolly has ordered for me to leave the Swords serie and head for Nordia]

Felicita: [So I’ll be part of a top secret mission with Intelligence for the first time]

Felicita: [I know we can’t trust Vir. But why do we need to go out of our way to pursue him…?]

Felicita: [Perhaps it was this mission that Gli Amanti was hinting about in my dreams…]

~*End Flashback*~

Liberta: Should we be worried about them taking this long

Liberta: Ah, is it because our disguises are weird?

Felicita: Huh?

Dante: Don’t worry, Ojou-san. We won’t be caught so easily with these disguises

Dante: As long as we act the part of course

Liberta: Yeah, you’re right

Dante: That’s directed at you, Liberta

Liberta: Huh! Why me!

(*smile) Felicita: *laugh*

Liberta: Not you too, Ojou

Dante: Looks like they’re ready for us. Let’s go, you two

~*Scene: Passenger Ship Hallway*~

Liberta: Be careful of the stairs, Ojou-sama. Here, take my hand…

Felicita: Uh…

Dante: What are you doing!

(*bonk)

Liberta: Oww!

Felicita: …

Dante: Didn’t I remind you? We’re supposed to be undercover. So don’t do anything that would make you stand out

Nino: You really are reckless, Liberta. You don’t change whatever Dante says

Orso: Yeah, you really don’t

Liberta: Hey, we haven’t gone on a cruise in a while. It’d be weird if we weren’t excited!

Felicita: …

Felicita: Does Intelligence always do this?

Liberta: When we need to. But we don’t usually get disguises like this

Nino: Our current target knows what we look like, so he’ll be on to us if we show up dressed as usual. That’s why we needed the disguises

Liberta: How do I look? Sharp, right? I almost never wear a fancy suit like this!

Felicita: Yeah. You look like a totally different person. Very mature

Orso: That may be true, but it feels weird

Nino: You should loosen your tie a bit. It’ll be more your style

Liberta: Then I’d just look like my regular self. I’m going for a Luca-like butler look today

Dante: You do look the part, but it could use some work. Your usual self is still showing through

(*serious) Liberta: Not at all. I do believe you are imaging things, my lord

Orso: Yeah, it’s slipping

Nino: Yup, clear as day

Liberta: Hey! Orso, Nino! Did you really have to say that!

Felicita: It definitely shows that you’re trying. And Luca’s my attendant, not a butler…

Felicita: It’s nice seeing you in a different suit too, Dante. The scarf looks good on you

Dante: I-it does? Haha, it’s embarrassing hearing it from you, Ojou-san

Felicita: The hair is what stands out the most though…

Dante: Well, I have to cover my most distinctive trait to be properly disguised. Might take a few points off my coolness factor though…just kidding!

Felicita: …*sigh*

Liberta: Ugh…but why does Ojou have to be…

Orso: It’s what works. It makes more sense for her to be a young wife than Dante-san’s daughter

Liberta: Okay, but couldn’t she have been mine instead of Dante’s?

Nino: There’s no way you can pull off being a little rich boy so just give it up

Liberta: Tch

Dante: “The dame of Dante” Hm, I like the sound of it!

Liberta: That shouldn’t matter!

Orso: Liberta, even if that’s not your role, you’re still with Ojou-san. You’re playing her attendant, aren’t you?

Liberta: R-right. I got this! …I mean, I am at your service

Dante: At this rate, it’ll take some time before you can become a proper butler

Liberta: As if! Damn it…I’m a butler, I’m a butler. I’m a high class butler like Luca…

Felicita: Liberta…I already said Luca’s my attendant, not a butler…

Dante: Alright everyone, we’re about to get started. Are you ready?

Orso: Dan…I mean, sir. Has there been any movement from Vir’s side?

Dante: Yes. They’ve begun talking. They shouldn’t leave the dining room for the time being

Dante: We should use this chance to get close and listen in

Liberta: Alright! Time to show Vir what Intelligence is made of!

Dante: We’re not low on spirit at least. Let’s just hope it doesn’t blow our cover…

~*Scene: Passenger Ship Dining Room*~

Liberta: What are they saying? They’re talking so quietly it’s hard to hear…I’m getting closer

Dante: If we get any closer, we risk exposure

Liberta: Don’t worry. I’ll just sneak over by pretending to get food

Dante: Wait, Liberta!

Vir: Have you gotten used to your powers?

Teo: Of course I have. I’m good at this stuff

Vir: As expected. You got used to the Stone quickly as well. You’re so reliable, Teo

Teo: No need for flattery!

Liberta: I can hear them talking from here. Hehe, perfect

Dante: Perfect how? What kind of attendant would ignore his master?

Felicita: You’re supposed to be our attendant, aren’t you?

Liberta: Uwah!? Ojou and Dante…

(*glare) Dante: Huh? What did you just say?

Liberta: I mean, sir and madam…

(*smile) Felicita: Right

Teo: Hey, Vir. Should we really have taken a slow ship like this? I thought we were in a hurry

Vir: It will be fine. Do I look like the type who doesn’t think things through?

Vir: We still have the other two in Regalo. It will naturally take some time before we can reconvene

Vir: And we are still missing...the most important piece

Teo: Alright. If you say so Vir, I trust you

Vir: *laugh* I’m glad to hear it

Liberta: Powers and pieces…I don’t get any of it

Dante: …Powers

Liberta: But I do get this much…

Felicita: Liberta?

Liberta: There’s something about them…especially Vir, that says they aren’t to be messed with

Liberta: And the “powers” they’re talking about… That might mean Arcana powers

Felicita: !

Liberta: I’m just guessing. But it’s possible, right? The same thing happened with Ash

Felicita: Yeah…we don’t know for sure. So we need more information

Liberta: Right. We don’t know what they’re planning, so we need figure it out

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: We should get back to our seats before Vir notices

Felicita: Right

Liberta: A contract…? Ugh, if only I could get closer…

Dante: Hey, Liberta. Hurry up

Liberta: Huh? Uwah!?

(*bump) Liberta: Oww…ah, my apologies!

Teo: What’s up with him? He’s a mess

Vir: …Ah, truly

Felicita: Are you okay…? Can you make it back?

Liberta: Oj…I mean, madam, I am so sorry! Your consideration is most appreciated!

Felicita: It’s fine

Liberta: …That was close. Good thing they didn’t notice. Thanks, Ojou

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: I can’t believe you…Don’t scare me like that

Liberta: S-sorry…I panicked when you called me like that

Liberta: But my coordination with Ojou was perfect! I’m really getting the hang of this butler thing

Dante: You call that perfect? Liberta…

Liberta: Huh? Dante?

Dante: Get it together!!

(*whack) Liberta: Ah, ow…

Felicita: You’re making us stand out…

~*Scene: Passenger Ship Hallway*~

Teo: What are you thinking about?

Vir: Oh, I was just thinking how strange those other passengers from earlier were

Vir: Perhaps I should try a disguise as well. The masquerade will begin in Nordia soon, after all

Teo: Me too! Buy me a mask, Vir!

Vir: *laugh*…Of course. I’ll be sure to find the flashiest one there is

~*End of Scene*~

(Continue to Common Event December 20 (Liberta Route))

(Continue to Dante Chapter 3)

(Back to Directory)

#common #arcana famiglia #arcana famiglia 2 #december 20 #solar translations #psp game #translation #releases #....yeah I don't know how Vir wouldn't have caught on to them

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

Text

The Courting Ways of Wolves (Part 4)

Dumb Boys! I love them!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (here) Part 5 Epilogue

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Almost a month after the silver dawn they passed through a lively little river town. It wasn’t so big a city that Geralt’s senses were completely overwhelmed, but also large enough that Jaskier had good, hearty crowds every night. The nature of river towns like this meant that boats stopped through all the time, shipping goods up and down river, so sailors stopped in taverns and moved along. Every night was a fresh crowd.

Geralt decided that they’d stay in the town for a week. Rivers meant plenty of contracts too, drowners and such. There was also a decent shopping district what with all the merchants, and he wanted to tackle Number Five from his courting list.

Give Jaskier Gifts (non dead ones).

It was going to be easy.

Thirty minutes later, it was not easy.

“Ooh I’ll come shopping too,” Jaskier said, rummaging through his bag in their room in the inn. “I need a new notebook.”

Geralt panicked a little bit. He wanted to get Jaskier a new notebook, and he didn’t have much idea for other gifts. Then an idea struck.

“Why don’t you and I look around, then after your performance tonight you’ll have more to spend.”

“Good idea Geralt, and who knows, if it goes well maybe I could get us a room with two beds instead of one.”

Damn.

Jaskier linked his arm with Geralt’s and swanned off down the stairs, leaving Geralt to either follow or have his arm dislocated at the shoulder.

“Pardon me,” Jaskier waved down the grumpy looking innkeeper. She walked over scowling, small toddler on her hip.

“Perhaps later, after I’ve performed in your fine establishment,” Jaskier asked. “We might discuss changing us to a room with two beds?”

She looked at Jaskier. She looked at Geralt, who had paid for their current room with a grunted ‘that’s fine’ when she’d said it had one bed. She looked at their linked arms.

“Too many sailors coming in off the river this time ‘o year,” she said brusquely. “We can talk but ye’d be better off counting on the one you’ve got.”

Jaskier shrugged good naturedly. “Then keep it we shall, my dear lady.” She wasn’t listening, calling out instead to a child, about eight of indeterminate gender.

“Toos, whatever’s in your mouth had better not be for guests.” The child, laughing maniacally around a mouthful of something raced out the back door of the inn, only to be scooped up by his father, a broad, heavy man with a jolly face.

They left the family to their domesticity and ventured out into the merchant district. There was more going on than Geralt preferred, his senses blurring as he tried to be on a swivel to protect against any potential dangers. None appeared though, and he allowed his senses to narrow to the warmth of Jaskier’s arm in his.

Jaskier pulled them over to a potter’s shop. Tiny vases and bottles adorned shelves. There were bigger pieces too, some done in gorgeous colors and outrageous designs, but the little bottles captured Jaskier’s eye.

“Look Geralt, I could keep perfumes in these.”

“You have perfume bottles.”

“Oh I know, but the colors are pretty,” Jaskier said, smiling at the potter and pulling Geralt along.

Leather goods. Very fine work, too, Geralt thought. It was next to a paper goods and bookbinding shop, and the two had obviously done some kind of trade. On a display table between the two stalls sat leather bound books of all sizes and kinds. Jaskier poured over them, exclaiming and running feather light fingers over textured leather bindings. Jaskier sighed longingly and went into the bookbinding stall to see the less expensive journal options.

All of Jaskier’s past journals had been a sort of card cover. They didn’t last well, although Jaskier tore through them so quickly it didn’t matter. Geralt looked at the leather books here, his eye catching on a large, sturdy one in brown leather. It looked good for the road, with a braided leather tie to keep it shut.

He glanced up, but Jaskier was still admiring the paper goods.

What had really been caught by the centerpiece book. It was a mammoth thing, thick and beautifully made in a deep, wine red leather. There were little brass clasps on the side, buffed up to look like gold. In a fairy tale, it would be the master enchanter’s spellbook. A tome.

Jaskier deserved a tome. He’d written so many songs and poems, and he’d mentioned once or twice that he ought to write it all down in one book. This should be the book. Geralt could just picture Jaskier in the library of Kaer Morhen, with the snow coming down outside and ink on his fingertips, carefully transcribing his work.

It was like with the silver dawn, Geralt could see it so clearly, his little family would all be in the library. Ciri and Geralt and Jaskier all together again.

Next to the big red book was a little journal, made of the same color of leather. It had a little shiny brass lock with a tiny key tied on a string. A diary fit for a princess.

He had a plan.

He went into the leather stall and asked about their repair prices, haggled a little, then said he’d be back with his order that evening. Jaskier walked back into the leather goods stall and smiled up at him. Parts of Geralt’s chest went all tingly and golden.

They browsed the other stalls, spending the most time at a metalsmith’s stall. Geralt was impressed with the weapon quality. Jaskier admired the jewelry, trying on various pretty, delicate rings and holding them up in the light.

Geralt watched the way he interacted with people.

When Jaskier had first joined him, he’d thought it was all an act, that Jaskier couldn’t possibly like so many people. He did though, and they loved him for it. From the outside it was clearer to Geralt why. Jaskier was polite of course, and complimentary of the workmanship, but instead of dealing in vauge descriptions, he complimented details. He found and complimented something extraordinary about each piece, drawing conversation from the stall owner’s wife, who apparently did the jewelry part of things. He complimented the delicate artistry of a slim ring, then the clever design of a bracelet catch, asking with truly genuine curiosity about each.

Shopkeepers love curiosity, and anyone would love to have their skill complimented so honestly. Geralt felt himself smiling as he watched.

“Good lad you’ve got there,” the weaponsmith said. “Husband?” Geralt turned to him.

“Not yet,” he said. Then his shoulders slumped a little. “Not even officially a sweetheart yet.”

The burly smith chuckled. “I know that story, you think it was easy for me to woo that goddess there?”

Geralt looked over at the jewelry maker, still locked in conversation with Jaskier. She was middle aged, but beauty doesn’t fade with age as quickly as mortals seemed to think. She was indeed a great beauty. To judge by the way she gestured avidly while speaking, she was also a passionate and firey one too.

“I’m not much for romance,” the smith said, drawing Geralt’s attention back. “But your lad there is yours, heart and soul, you just need the proper instruments to tell him you’re his as well.”

“How did you woo your lady?” Geralt asked.

The smith chuckled again. “I was a much younger man then, but I stood about without a shirt in my smithy and busily hammered and flexed every time she came by.”

Geralt brightened, showing off his muscles was something he could do. “Did it work?”

“Not even a little. She was completely unimpressed.”

Oh. And Jaskier had seen Geralt’s muscles before too.

“So I went to her house one evening,” the smith continued, a glimmer of memory in his eye. “I’d worked for weeks to make her something as lovely as she was. Of course, I wasn’t so good a smith then either, but I’d tired. It was a braided metal band, to push back her hair, she’s wearing it now. Worn it almost every day since, including our wedding day.”

Geralt looked over. Silver and gold did indeed push back her curly hair. With her aquiline nose she looked like a woodcut of some goddess he’d seen once.

“And then I did the hard part,” said the smith. Geralt looked to him. “I talked to her, really spoke with her and told her how I admired her, not just for her beauty. Then she invited me in out of the rain and made me tea.”

Damn. Geralt wasn’t good at talking but he really would need to, it seemed.

“More than fourty years of marriage now,” the smith said.

“I can’t make him something as beautiful as he is,” Geralt said. A potion just wouldn’t work.

“I think any gift to show you care would work,” the smith said.

Geralt looked around at the weapons on display, and the smith went back to shining some of his work. There was a dagger on display.

Jaskier had daggers, and he worked with them well, but this one was beautiful.

“May I?” he said, and the smith gestured obligingly.

It was obviously a piece of combined work between the smith and his wife. It was well made and balanced, but very slim, perfect for slipping up a sleeve or into a boot. It was also a piece of artwork, both the hilt and sheath inlaid with mother of pearl and a mirror-shiny black stone, with silver threads surrounding. The pearl wound about the hilt in a pattern of perfect vines, shining in the black. The sheath was a night sky, a curving crescent moon, fantasy thin, hung in a black sky, lit all around with tiny pearl stars inlaid with painstaking care. The tip of the sheath was sliverwork with more of the pearl, more vines.

“The blade is silver,” Geralt noted.

“Yes,” the smith clearly approved of Geralt’s eye. “Moon silver, never tarnishes, never goes dull.”

Geralt was going to buy it for Jaskier. It was a cerainty. It was probably Destiny. She may be a bitch but maybe she’d decided to help him on this one. The price was extravagant, of course, and Geralt wouldn’t haggle a penny, not for artistry such as that. Moon silver was wildly difficult to work, too. Magic like that made for difficult smithing.

Geralt locked eyes with the smith, who’s mustache-which even Vesemir would have been jealous of-twitched in the direction of Jaskier. He and the jewelry maker were coming over.

“I’ll wrap this shall I?” asked the smith in a whisper.

Geralt gave a hint of a nod. “I’ll be back for it later,” he said, matching the volume.

“Geralt,” Jaskier exclaimed, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Let us trouble these good people no longer, at least until I return to clean out this fine lady’s entire stock, I can hear my audience call me.”

It was indeed almost supper time, and they bid their goodbyes to the couple. By the time they got back to the inn, the bar room on the first floor was full. The atmosphere was cheerful in the room, helped along by both the proprietors busily filling tankards of ale and bowls of hot stew. Jaskier ordered two of each for the pair of them.

Somehow he always got served first at a bar. Geralt wasn’t complaining, and the stew was hot and good, with chicken and potatoes and herbs. Geralt and Jaskier both slurped it down. Jaskier slammed his ale too, disappearing up the stairs to their room with a wink.

Geralt knew Jaskier’s pre-performance routine well, and stayed down at their table to give him room. A teen with a face full of pimples picked up the bowls and spoons, as well as Jaskier’s tankard. He looked skittish to Geralt, so he didn’t nod for fear of scaring the lad. Thus far everyone had been fairly kind, Geralt didn’t want to ruin that.

He sat back and sipped his ale appreciatively. Bartending was an art in itself and not a well known one. Geralt had been in too many pubs where bartenders didn’t take proper care, but this one had. He probably put cloth over the barrells over night in this damp weather.

Jaskier clattered down the stairs, lute strung and tuned, and Geralt stood. He’d stay for at least the first few songs, but there were more patrons pouring in and he’d move from the table to a seat at the bar to leave room.

A song and a half into Jaskier’s set he realized his mistake. Jaskier could see him, and often locked eyes on him while singing to send a wink or just a friendly glance. He didn’t have a chance to slip away. Of course, he could leave anyway, but it just felt wrong to have Jaskier watch him leave.

“Now I know,” said a sharp voice from the bar, “that our barstools don’t have splinters, so what’s gotten in to you.” It was the bartender’s wife, the one who tended the rooms upstairs. She was still glowering, but without the child on her hip this time.

“I’ve got errands to run,” Geralt muttered, not fond of sharing his business.

“Pf.” She said. “Just like a man to leave all the errands to the last minute. And you want to sneak out without him noticing for a bit.” It wasn’t a question. Geralt nodded.

“Your lad there’s pretty good, makin’ us money, so I’ll do you a favor,” she looked at him sharply. “When I say go you go, and I’ll thank you to tell your sweetheart you care for him before he goes and tries to buy two beds next time.” She sniffed. “Save you both trouble in the long run.”

She cleaned a spilled spot on the bar and let out a short whistle.

Geralt felt like he’d been hit over the head with a mallet.

In response to the whistle, the child from that morning appeared, Toos, Geralt remembered. The innkeeper gave the kid a penny, “Go ask for that song you like, then hurry back now.” Toos gave a gap toothed grin and dissappeared as quickly as they’d come.

Geralt watched the disturbance at about knee level through the crowd as Toos fought their way through. Jaskier, basking in the applause noticed them immediately and listened carefully to the request, smiling widely at the audience and biting the proffered penny as if it were a gold coin to huge laughter.

The innkeeper snapped her fingers under Geralt’s nose and pointed to the door. He took the cue.

The market was less bustling, but still open, and Geralt took in a breath of cool, evening air. Then he assessed his plan.

He wanted to buy Jaskier lots of gifts over the course of this year, and he surely would, but they would be small things mostly. Quills and ink and lutepicks, that sort of thing. Those could be found in smaller towns and villages, but craft work like he found here was hard to find along the Path. He could buy either the red book or the dagger right now, and with the contracts he’d do this week he’d pay for the other. He’d buy the practical, brown leather book regardless, because right now Jaskier needed a journal and not a tome.

He decided on the dagger first. The smith had shared good advice, and, if someone were to buy the leather tome from the display, there was at least a chance Geralt could find one like it elsewhere. Where but here could he find a moonsilver dagger for Jaskier?

The smith was not surprised to see Geralt, and his wife sent him a friendly wink. Geralt bought the dagger and thanked the smith, complimenting both he and his wife on the work. Then he carried his package, wrapped in two layers, cloth and paper, out into the street.

He dropped a bit of tack off at the leather worker’s shop for repair, to pick it up in two days. Then he took the sensible brown leather journal from the display stand.

The bookbinder and paper merchant was a bent old man, sitting on a stool at the back of the shop, chewing tobacco. There was a greasy twist of it, black as tar, in waxed paper on the counter.

“Excuse me,” Geralt said. The shopkeeper looked up, jaw still working. “We don’t like your kind here,” he said in a voice that cracked like the paper he worked. Well. There it was, there was always someone.

“Please,” he said. “It’s a gift for a-a friend. It’s very important.”

The old shop keeper eyed him and the book in his hand. Then he obviously decided that making a sale was worth serving Geralt. He growled out a price, and Geralt didn’t haggle.

Geralt stood there, the old man staring him down while counting the coins. He figured it was worth a shot.

“Could I ask a favor?”

“No.”

“Could you keep the journal on your display table, the large red one, back for me? And the little one in the same color beside it? Only for a few more days.”

“No.”

“Please,” Geralt said, losing hope. “It’s for a good cause.”

The man spat tobacco juice into a can with disgusting accuracy. “What cause do monsters have, comin’ in here and asking favors of me?”

Geralt caught the man’s watery eyes. “Love, true love, please, keep them back just a few days?”

“Didn’t think monsters could feel,” scoffed the man, but he tilted his head. “You mean that nice young man, what came in with you earlier?”

“That’s the one, I want to give him the perfect gift.”

The man scoffed again, but it was less cruel. “I can tell people they’re for display. You’ve got three days.”

Geralt let out a relieved breath. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much.”

“Don’t thank me,” growled the man, cutting off another piece of tobacco with a knife. “And don’t darken my door until you have the money.”

Geralt left, feeling very light. He reentered the inn to a round of applause for Jaskier, but thankfully no one looking his way. He slipped up the stairs.

The dagger wasn’t a gift for tonight, he decided. That was a grand gift, for sometime special. He put it in his potion bag, where Jaskier was forbidden to look, for fear he’d get into something deadly. The journal was laid on the bed, just where Jaskier would see it.

Then Geralt went back downstairs to catch the last of Jaskier’s set.

Jaskier practically danced up to Geralt afterwards. He was full of that strange energy he always had after a good performance, like bubbles in champagne. Geralt could feel the muscles around his eyes soften.

“I liked your last song,” he said. Number Three on The List, compliment him.

“Paddy Lay Back?” Jaskier said. “You’ve heard it before.”

“Yes,” Geralt said as they went upstairs. “I like it.”

Jaskier beamed.

He chattered about the performance all the way into their room, and managed to pull off his boots before noticing the journal on the bed. He stopped mid sentence.

He looked at the journal, then at Geralt, mouth still half open.

Geralt remembered the smith, talking about how he’d won his wife over, but his mouth felt stuffed with wool.

“It’s for you,” he managed. “For your songs. It’ll last longer than the card bound ones.”

Jaskier picked it up, rubbing his thumb across the smooth leather, then he turned to Geralt. His eyes were shining.

With a speed that even Geralt’s mutated reflexes couldn’t manage, he was enveloped in a hug. Jaskier had his arms around his neck, the journal still in hand.

Geralt hesitated.

Then he wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s chest and held him.

Later that night, in the same bed as a snoring bard, he still felt the heat of that hug. Jaskier’s elbow dug into his ribs and he barely felt it, but the hug was still there. He thought of the dagger in his potions bag.

He’d talk to Jaskier then, giving that to him. For now, he’d have time to plan what to say. Before he could try, however, sleep claimed him.

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Gifts! Gifts for Jaskier! and a hint of things to come. I had fun with this.

Taglist!

@llamasdumpsterfire @goblinwhoships

#the witcher #geraskier #courting #fluff #geralt #jaskier #courting gifts #geralt is a good dad #geralt x jaskier

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barnesbabee · 4 years ago

Text

Jolly sailor bold || K.H

Summary: What if the unbelievable beauty of a man caught an ettention of a mythical species?

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Siren

Words: I’ll let you know ( 2958 )

Genre: Miscellaneous, Fluff

⚠ mythical creature!au ⚠

A/N: This is something different, I hope you enjoy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

'my jolly sailor bold’

Hongjoong’s heard perked up as he looked around for the exquisite song. He stopped for a second and became more attentive to all the sounds surrounding him, trying to listen once more to the beautiful voice, but all he could discern was the sound of the leaves hitting against each other.

“Hongjoong what are you doing?”

The aforementioned male snapped back to reality and his gaze locked on his friend, who stared at him with a confused expression.

“You didn’t hear that?”

Seonghwa cocked his head to the side, as if asking ‘hear what?’. Hongjoong sighed and looked down at the ground, as he resumed his walk.

“Nevermind, let’s just head back…”

Seonghwa gave him a judging look but walked alongside him anyway.

The younger male couldn’t take the melody off of his head as they headed back to camp. It was so… perfect. It was a lullaby-like song that anyone would be enticed and hypnotized by. There was no reason for the man to feel like this, he had heard beautiful voices countless times during his career, so why did he want to hear that particular one, over, and over and over again?

As the night went on and the sky became painted with stars, he slowly became more addicted to the song.

“Hongjoong what the fuck are you singing? You’ve been singing that one line for hours now.” Yeosang asked as he threw more fire in the wood.

The short male was brought back to reality, and he pouted as he realized his marshmallow was way past burnt. He sighed and threw the soft snack into the fire.

“I don’t know, I heard someone sing it…” He explained, as he placed another marshmallow on his stick and approached it to the firepit.

The rest of the members didn’t quite appreciate the ominosity of Hongjoong’s statement.

“You heard someone sing it? Like, here? In the middle of the woods? Should we be scared?” Wooyoung asked, moving his hands in circles, gesturing to all of the area surrounding them.

Yunho reassuringly placed his palm on Wooyoung’s thigh, and squeezed it.

“Don’t worry, we’re fine. This lake is famous for being big, a lot of people come by.”

Wooyoung looked at the older male and pursed his lips together, as he nodded slowly. His eyes focused back on the fire.

“I guess you’re right.”

There were a couple of seconds of silence, before Seonghwa spoke up, remembering the scene from before.

“Was it that what you heard when we were coming back here from the van?”

“Yeah, it’s weird but it sounded like it came from the lake…” Hongjoong replied, recollecting all of the details from the afternoon.

Jongho furrowed his eyebrows.

“The lake? It’s October, who would go for a dip in the middle of Autumn?”

“You know as much as me, but it was a girl’s voice and-”

“Oh, that’s what this is about, a girl.” San joked, poking his older friend’s side.

Surely enough, San earned a slap to the back of the head for mocking him like that. Hongjoong, on the other hand, sighed and stood up.

“I think I’m going to sleep, I’m tired of having this song in my head playing on repeat, good night.” He said, finally, as he popped one last marshmallow in his mouth, then licking all of the remainings off of his fingers.

He went into the tent he shared with Seonghwa and Mingi (he had lost rock, paper, scissors and to his dismay, that would mean they would have to sleep alongside the messy, fidgety giant) and laid on the not-so-comfortable thin mattress they had brought for the sake of Mingi’s back.

Hongjoong groaned as he laid on his side and pulled the sleeping bag over his body.

“Ok now, sleep.” The male mumbled to himself.

And after a long day of cooking, setting up camp, and carrying things back and forward from the van, the tiredness got the best of him and he fell asleep in no time. The deep slumber lasted no longer than three hours, however.

He woke up suddenly and sat up straight in the mattress. It was completely dark. The light from the fire outside was no more and he was met with two sleeping bodies beside him. Hongjoong was wide awake, and the voice that had relentlessly haunted his thoughts now called for him with the continuation of the beautiful song he yearned to hear again. There was no explaining what got over him, but Hongjoong just… followed the voice. And, as if it was controlling him, the male quietly exited the tent and walked through the thick wooded area.

All that could be heard were the gusts of wind whistling in the air, some night-birds chirping, and the sound of Hongjoong’s heavy footsteps stepping on dry leaves and sticks. He unknowingly headed to the shore of the lake, and just then, the song got louder and louder, as if it was approaching him.

Hongjoong stared at the sparkling moonlit water, and he could swear he saw an enormous fish dive into it, the moonlight reflecting off of its tail. He closed his eyes and breathed in the cold air that hit his face.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold there is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold…”

This… sound. It wasn’t a song anymore, it was and addicting sound that pulled Hongjoong closer and closer. He stepped forward slowly until he fell.

His foot slipped on the muddy edge of the land and he fell into the icy water, and just then, it was as if he had woken up from a trance. Hongjoong’s previous calm demeanor was long gone and he was now choking on the sweet water, flailing his arms around in stress and despair. He had difficulty to breathe and it was as if he had forgotten how to swim. Soon enough, he lost all strength in his body, and his vision became blurry. His body started sinking, and he saw less and less. Before everything went dark, however, he felt himself being pulled farther down, but there was nothing he could do.

“There he is!”

Hongjoong woke up, shivering and in pain, covered in dirt and leaves. He rolled his body so he’d be facing up, but he couldn’t move. Three boys circled around him, and Hongjoong weakly opened his eyes, just to close them again after the extreme sunlight hit his puffy, red eyes.

“Hongjoong are you okay!? What happened!?” Seonghwa asked, carefully observing his body, afraid that if he touched him, he’d be hurting his leader.

The older male only got a couple of coughs in response, as Hongjoong couldn’t bring himself to reply. Seonghwa and Jongho exchanged worried glances, before the latter delicately picked up the older, bridal style, and walked back to camp slowly. Once they arrived all eyes turned to them, relieved that they had found Hongjoong, but concerned about his state.

Yeosang looked at Yunho, who had also gone with the duo, with a questioning look. The taller shrugged, as none of them knew what had happened.

Jongho laid his leader back onto his mattress, and he immediately clung onto the warm sleeping bag.

They were all worried sick for Hongjoong, but they didn’t want to bother him then. They left the boy and went to sit around the extinguished fire pit. All seven of them were silent. No one could guess what happened. Why did he leave in the middle of the night, why was he by the river, why were his clothes damp, and why couldn’t he move?

A couple of hours passed until Hongjoong gave another sign of life.

The boys were chatting when they were cut off by a loud groan, and some shuffling inside the tent. Seonghwa immediately stood up and walked towards Hongjoong, but when he got near the tent the younger male walked out, limping slightly.

“Hey, hey, calm down, I’ll help you out…”

Seonghwa put Hongjoong’s arm around his own shoulders and his arm around the smaller’s waist, as he helped him walk to the nearest chair.

“Hongjoong what happened!?” Mingi questioned as soon as Hongjoong was comfortable.

The latter threw his head back and sighed.

“I… I don’t know. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and walking towards the lake for some reason, I slipped and fell… After that, it’s all blank.” Hongjoong told them, as he recalled the previous night’s events.

“Why would you go to the lake at night?” Wooyoung asked.

“I said I don’t fucking know!” He replied bluntly, becoming frustrated at himself, for not knowing what had happened after desperately trying to remeber the details of his near death experience.

It was silent for a while. None of them felt like talking and the small camping trip had kind of been ruined.

Hongjoong moved his legs and immediately winced in pain, as his ankles started aching. He found this weird… He could have sprained an ankle, but both?

He bent over and pulled his joggers up until his calves. His eyes widened, as he noticed a continuous purple mark on his legs, almost as if something had been tightly wrapped around them. The male instantly became afraid, what the fuck had happened!?

Hongjoong hid it as quickly as he unraveled it. He really didn’t feel like getting bombarded with questions he didn’t know the answer to.

His leg wouldn’t stay still. Even though it hurt, he kept bouncing it up and down, biting his lip and staring at the floor, desperately searching for an explanation.

A fish.

It could have been a fish.

No, it couldn’t… Whatever fish was big enough to do that to his legs, certainly wouldn’t leave him alive. And how would a fish drag him to the shore?

A person?

A person around the sea would explain the singing he had heard!

But how would they see him? He remembers going down in the lake, how could someone spot him, in the dead of the night, with no light but the moon’s to help them drag Hongjoong out of the lake?

The situation was slowly driving Hongjoong insane…

He stood up and started limping towards the infamouslake, however, he was stopped by Yeosang who wouldn’t let him walk another step.

“Woah woah, where are you going?”

Hongjoong sighed and hung his head low.

“I need to be alone…”

The boy noticed how Yeosang looked towards the rest of the members, as if asking for permission to let him pass.

“Come on I’m not a kid… What happened was an accident, I can take care of myself!”

Much against their will, the boys let him go for his walk.

Hongjoong walked for a couple of minutes until he reached his destination. He looked at the shiny water, that had a mix of green and blue colours.

He clenched his fists beside his body.

“Who are you!? What did you do to me!? What the fuck is happening!? Why can no one hear you, why did I come out here, what even are you!?” He yelled out, in pure despair.

He was left there, with tears in his eyes and breathing heavily..

As if on cue, a fishtail popped out of the water. A beautiful, pearly white tail with hues of blue. Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

It was huge.

The water started moving, and there was a trail rapidly heading towards him. Hongjoong stepped back quickly. He tripped on his feet, as he wasn’t in the best of conditions, and winced as he fell on his butt, but it didn’t stop him from backing up against a nearby tree.

From the water, a woman-like creature shyly emerged.

Hongjoong’s eyes were fixated on her.

She was of an unbelievable beauty. Big, shiny eyes, completely white, sandy blonde, wavy hair that fell down to her elbows, small lips that always seemed to be puckering, and a sharp chin and jawline. There were small pearls and algae in her entangled hair, and Hongjoong noticed shiny scales coming up her neck.

She tilted her head slightly, as if waiting for Hongjoong to do something, but he didn’t budge.

“My jolly sailor boat…”

Although she didn’t sing it, she simply said those words, he perfectly recognized them, as they had been playing over and over on his head.

“Is it… It is! It’s you! B-but what are you!?”

There was no correct way to react. He was panicking, he was nervous, yet he was mesmerized and fascinated.

She smiled, flaunting her sharp teeth, and showed her enormous tail.

“A mermaid…” Hongjoong concluded.

The woman laughed, and somehow even her laugh sounded melodic.

“A Siren.” She corrected.

Hongjoong wondered what the difference was, but he didn’t dare ask. He really didn’t want to see what the sharp teeth were for.

He pulled up his pants once more.

“D-did you do this?” He asked.

She nodded, although she looked apologetic.

“I don’t get it. Were you… going to eat me? Were you going to kill me? Why did you do this?”

The Siren was silent. She obviously wasn’t of many words… Hongjoong didn’t push it, but he also didn’t say anything else.

“I was going to…” The gills on her neck flexed as she swallowed.

“Well, why didn’t you?”

The questioned amused her. The woman figured that he would run the second he found out about her past intentions, but he remained where he was…

“Your face.”

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow, not quite understand what she meant. He brought his fingers up to his own face, caressing it confusedly.

“You’re… beautiful. Out of all the men I’ve lured, out of all the men I’ve tricked, I’ve never seen one quite like you. Your features resemble ones of a siren, if I’m being honest. Puckered lips, perfectly shaped nope, sharp jawline… I fell in love with your face, I couldn’t kill you as I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to see you ever again.”

He was clearly taken aback by the whole situation, but very, very flattered.

The two exchanged fiery glances, not sure of what to do next.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid…” She began, making Hongjoong close his eyes and lean in, as if that would make him hear better “... I disdain all glittering gold, there is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold.”

Yes, that was it, that was definitely it. That was the hypnotizing melody he yearned to listen to once more. When he opened his eyes, the Siren was holding herself up, with her torso fully out of the water. Hongjoong could see the membranes between her fingers, the long, threatening fingernails, and the white and blue-ish fins perking out of her arms, moving up and down.

“Does my body interest you?” She asked.

Hongjoong smirked and carefully approached the Siren.

“It amazes me…”

He was a little hesitant as he came closer, but the Siren reassured him.

“I won’t hurt you, if I wanted to I would have done so.”

She was right. Hongjoong crawled in her direction, until they were close enough so he could smell the sea in her hair. He knelt in front of the creature, admiring her delicate features up close. Her body and features were all lengthy and scary, but her face, the important element to lure in her prey, that was unbearably alluring.

“What’s your name, sailor?” The Siren asked as she inched closer.

Hongjoong mimicked her actions, and he could soon feel her breathing hitting against his skin.

“I’m Hongjoong.”

The Siren ran her fingers up Hongjoong’s half-exposed arm. He expected for it to feel… wet and fishy. But it felt just like another human.

“I have never kissed a human before…”

“Well, I’ve never kissed a Siren before…”

The woman smiled slightly at the joke. When their lips brushed past each other, they pulled away slightly. It was as if there was a spark as they touched… They approached once more, this time fully connecting their lips in what could only be described as the ghastliest, most beautiful kiss.

It was as if they belonged like that, astray from their own species, in each other’s embrace. But they knew it wasn’t true.

Somehow Hongjoong wasn’t scared when he pulled away and stared into those white eyes. He actually found an odd beauty in them.

The romantic escapade was cut off by a yelling voice in the distance.

“Hongjoong!”

The male looked behind him. His friend couldn’t be seen, but the sound of leaves and sticks cracking and breaking became louder by the second.

“Don’t go!” Hongjoong begged.

“I mustn’t be seen… Please don’t speak of me!”

Hongjoong didn’t want to let her go… He had just found her!

“Will… Will we see each other again?”

The woman smiled fondly and she backed away in the water.

“Come visit me, and call for Aglaope once you reach the lake.”

Hongjoong only nodded as he watched her sink in the clear blue water.

“I’ll be thinking of you, my sailor…”

She completely disappeared, just as Yunho got to his friend.

“We started getting worried Joong… Let’s head back, this place doesn’t bring great memories.”

Yunho helped Hongjoong up, who just let himself be maneuvered by the older man, as he was too fixated in the lake.

They both started walking away, with a casual chatter.

Before they left, however, Hongjoong glanced over his shoulder, and he saw the beautiful coloured tail, illuminated by the rays of the sun, wave in the distance. Not a goodbye, but a ‘until some day’.

And Hongjoong smiled, restlessly awaiting the day when he could come back.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @succulentpk

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years ago

Text

GF - Jolly Sailor Bold

(Spoiler alert: I lied about the “jolly” part.)

Word count: 1431

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan walked into the town that was much bigger than it was when he first came forty-five years ago. It wasn’t that far of a walk and Sixer had always encouraged exercise, though most people would be opposed to a seventy-two-year-old man walking in woods filled with gnomes, tree-giants, Mantours, and Hawktopuses that could attack. But not every old man could still kick butt like Stan could, so he emerged from the trees sharing his name and joined the sidewalk.

First thing he noticed was a small pine tree outside of town, a bit wilted and weak, a sad excuse for a twig with pointy green leaves. Stan caught sight of an abandoned cup of water, smiled cunningly, and tipped the water over with the end of his eight-ball cane; he didn’t really depend on aid for walking, but it was good to have just in case. Before Stan could think to pick up the litter, a gnome scurried over, pick it up, hissed, and ran back into the woods. The old sailor shrugged, his long gray hair shifting at the movement, and he continued on his tiny journey.

At the grocery store, Stan used a small cart for his trip, tucking his cane in it, and wandering for what he needed. He can remember the first time he met Gideon, in this very store, a spoiled baby screaming and kicking for candy he had dropped, but Stan had picked it up and eaten it right in front of the twerp, being the first person in Gideon’s life to tell him “no”. Today was entirely different.

Stan first noticed an old couple his age, bitter and annoyed. The husband had mumbled, “Back in my day, y’all got a good beatin’ for actin’ like that.” Stan then heard the distant crying, and coincidentally, as he walked in his desired direction, he unintentionally came across the crying child.

With his recent years with toddlers and young kids, Stan had learned the difference between an angry scream from a grumpy toddler and a woeful cry from a sad young heart; this was the latter. A young mom with frazzled hair, who looked far too stretched, was rubbing the back of a three-year-old boy, who held a stuffed soldier that somewhat resembled him. Stan sighed, understanding, as he remembered the war going on in China, and reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat.

The tiny boy hiccuped in surprise by the music. His mother turned and saw an old man approach, playing a harmonica with warm brown eyes. She smiled as her son’s crying slowly went away, until all he could do was sniffle with a runny nose.

Stan made his old knees bend so he could be eye-level with the tyke, playing the old lullaby his Ma used to sing forever ago, and he stretched the last note to make the good times stick around. There was a moment of silence, but then the three-year-old grinned, clapped, and caught sight of some long hair over Stan’s shoulder and grabbed the tugged. Stan yelped comedically, making the boy laugh, and his mother squeezed Stan’s shoulder and thanked him before they parted ways.

In order to get home, Stan had to pass a park they had built ten years ago or so, while he was out sailing. It was nice, with a play area and a big field for soccer and football, and it was surrounded by shops and businesses to make it convenient. When Stan was going to the grocery store, the park had been empty, but now a small band of boys were playing soccer, so he paused to watch them for a second. As these games usually go, the ball was getting closer and closer to a goal, and one kid, whose friends were cheering him on excitedly, gave a powerful kick for the point. Unfortunately it was too powerful and too crooked, and it missed the goal entirely and smashed a window of the shop Stan stood nearby.

“HEY!”

Stan laughed and shook his head as the boys were still with fear. “Y’know, a responsible adult would tell ya to own up to whatcha did.”

The door of the tattoo shop flew open with a bang and a huge buff man with skulls all over his body roared, “WHEN I’M DONE WITH YOU BRATS, THE WINDOW WON’T BE THE ONLY THING THAT’S BROKEN!”

“But not me.” Stan added. “SCATTER!”

They all ran in different directions, Stan going down the sidewalk, closer to the edge of town; all those years of being chased by cops or freaking stuff really paid off sometimes. The old man stopped at a park bench in an alley to rest, huffing and puffing and setting his grocery bag down next to him. He had his eyes closed for a second when he heard a painfully familiar phrase.

“Gimme all your money.”

Stan opened his eyes calmly and looked to his left, deeper into the alley, and saw a skinny guy in all black pointing a gun at him. He should be scared, or at least anxious, but one look at the guy’s awful stance destroyed any fear Stan should have felt. He smiled, stood slowly, and asked like he was talking to an old friend. “What in Moses’ name are ya doin’?”

“Mugging you, duh.” The guy snapped.

“With that stance, kid?” He asked, scratching his red beanie-covered head.

“Wh- Just gimme your money, old man!”

“Bad roots make a bad tree, pal.” Quicker than the young man could register, Stan swooped down and used his eight-ball cane to sweep the robber off his feet and stole his gun, leaving the criminal in the mud to watch the ex-criminal drop the bullets with a twirl of the gun.

To the robber’s surprise, Stan held out a hand to him. He took it shamefully, and was even more surprised when Stan was helping him reposition himself. “With a solid stance, you’re a much better threat… wait, move your… there we go! Much better!” Stan held his square, wrinkly chin, and added, “Uh, no offense, but ya don’t look like the criminal type to me.”

“I… you… I…” The young man slumped and closed his eyes, ready to bolt for it, but Stan popped open a can of Pitt and held it out to him.

A few minutes go by and the two are sitting on the bench, sipping the drinks from Stan’s grocery bag, talking about life and women and goals. Stan did a lot of listening and used his experience to lend some much needed advice, sounding like an average joe and therefore easier to relate to and listen to.

“Hey… thanks.” The young man said when he stood up after an hour of talking.

Stan shrugged. “Some wise old man once said that it’s okay to accept help here and there, cuz it’s not often offered, but we need to fix that.”

The now ex-criminal raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Are you that wise old man?”

Stan gave him a sly look. “That’s a secret, kid.”

Eventually Stan did make it back to the Stan O’ War II, docked at the Gravity Falls lake, giving him a homey place with space but also easy company. Soos, Melody, and Jacob were only a twenty minute walk away and always checked on him. He stepped onto his boat with ease, a bit disturbed at how quiet it was here, but he’d fixed that soon.

Stan turned on the lights and sat his bag on the kitchen table. He pulled out a small half-chocolate, half-strawberry cake, opened it, pulled out two candles, got the lighter from his pocket, and lit the twin candles. He then looked at the wall that faced him, his eyes meeting another pair of eyes that matched his own. Stan made his aching body move to take the framed photograph off the wall and set it on the table, next to the cake.

“Happy Birthday, Sixer.” He croaked when he sat back down, his vision becoming blurry. “Why couldn't I’ve helped ya one last time…”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut in a sad attempt to make the tears go away, but it didn’t work. He pulled out his harmonica again and began to play the old lullaby, wondering if his brother could hear or care or even remember the words their Ma used to sing to them.

“Waves coming, The tide is high, As well as the sparkling moon, Matching the stars.

Little sailor bold, Oh, come with me, Brave sailor bold. Come sailing home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob belongs to @stephreynaart.

#gravity falls #fanfiction #grunkle stan #angst #nothing but angst #stangst #atla #alta reference

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solohux · 4 years ago

Text

We’re almost halfway through the year so I felt in the mood to make a rec list, and what better fics to rec than the ones which have possibly been overlooked in 2020!

Please remember that this is my own rec list and not being on here does not reflect skill, enjoyment or anything else. It’s just my opinion!

Enjoy! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

• Pretty Little Bunny by funnylookinfella (2.2k, E) Kylo makes the 'mistake' of telling Hux he thinks bunnies are cute. Just a silly little smut fic for springtime!

• Kitten by koi_boi (3k, M) Hux sleeps in an orange cat onesie (which happens to match Millicent). Kylo catches him snoozing in said onesie. They cuddle.

• Paintball Warriors by @rudbeckiasun (2k, E) Supreme Leader Kylo Ren decrees that all officers must have shore leave. Then someone suggests teambuilding activities. Hux isn’t convinced, but paintballing turns out to be far more entertaining than he ever imagined.

• You're My Fucked Up Remedy by @nonsensicalsoliloquy (15.7k, E) For years now, Hux had plans. For so many long, arduous years he’d schemed in the shadows, waging a silent war with the men who’d taken his life and diligently strived to have it suit their every desire. He thought himself prepared for anything. However, what Hux hadn’t planned for, what took over his messed up existence like it suddenly had any other meaning beyond vengeance…was Ren.

• Revenge is Best Served with Hesitation by @heresetrash (4.6k, E) Hux had never been one to do his own dirty work. He preferred to send others to perform those tasks for him. Not because he couldn't do them himself - he was more than capable - but such work was time-consuming and messy, and he had better things to do. Kylo, however, was different. This was personal. Hux didn't just want to kill him himself, he needed to.

• Matters of Efficiency by mundanecactus (4.3k, T) A diplomatic mission goes awry, and General Hux is forced to admit that maybe he doesn't have a protocol for everything...

• Sick Day by newh0pe (2.3k, T) Kylo Ren has killed Supreme Leader Snoke and become one of the most powerful men in the galaxy... but his boyfriend still has to drag him out of bed when he isn't feeling well and baby him.

• We Remain by @drxcomxlfoys (1.1k, G) Kylo finds Hux in the holding cell after Pryde shot him. They both decide to leave the First Order.

• Smirks and Cigarettes by @ashenpages (1.8k, T) The first time Hux has Ren light his cigarette, it isn’t planned or discussed, or even a sensible time to be smoking.

• ghosts from the past by morlawny (<1k, T) It was the same nightmare he had been having for the past few months, and it was haunting him. His father’s voice, the look he gave him… The way his hand touched his face... Kylo released a deep, heavy sigh, causing the body next to him to stir.

• Regeneration by DaisyChainz (3.8k, E) Hux discovers Kylo Ren out in the woods practicing a local ritual to welcome their current planet's Vernal Equinox. Somehow he gets drawn into the rites and finds that, while he objects to the mess, there might be something to the idea of 'renewal'.

• You're Making Fun of Me by DeviantDarkBelle (<1k, M) Kissing something that shouldn't be kissed.

• A Murder on Starscatter Isle by @theweddingofthefoxes (WIP, 8.2k, M) Detective Armitage Hux has volunteered for the case of a lifetime -- solving the murder of Snoke, the leader of a mysterious and isolated commune. If he succeeds, he's sure to get promoted. But if he fails, he could be in for more than he ever expected. Is the new leader, Kylo Ren, a friend, a foe, or something else entirely?

• By the Grace of the Fire and the Flames by Mothwing (11.1k, E) The sight of the pale, sunken chest lifting, pausing, falling again as the valve released. Air escaped the slack mouth with a little huff. Hux’s eyes were sunken and closed. He looked so much smaller than Ben remembered, vulnerable, almost soft around the edges, all his wiry strength gone. Ben had strangled him with both the force and his bare hands before, in anger and in a lust that felt very much like anger. And even though it could have never been easier to end his life, something stopped Ben just as it had always stopped Kylo. Something about the dry patches on his hands. Something about the blue shadows under his eyes. It felt odd to say this, but there was simply no honour in killing this man. Nothing good would come from ending this life, even though, and Ben knew that, they both deserved to die. A little balance. A little justice. And you could not tell a corpse that it’d lost. Ben dismissed the thought. No one was even keeping score any more.

• Whole Worlds Fade by boomsherlocka (34.5k, M) Their first meeting was not noteworthy. Hux was not yet General, and Ren was not yet what he would eventually become.

• Watch This by DaisyChainz (2k, E) Hux had never had a lover like Kylo before: someone that wants Hux, and not just a random warm body. So Hux Really wants to give Kylo what he's asking for, but he's just so damn exhausted. Luckily, Kylo has a stimulating solution.

• Aural by @kyluxtrashpit (2.7k, E) Hux fucks Kylo's ear.

• let go by DarthKyloRen (1.8k, G) “You’re in pain,” Ben’s small voice broke the silence. Kylo nodded in agreement. “I am.” “You don’t have to be.” “Yes I do.”

• The Bidding by tsar_saltans_swan (3.4k, T) "Going once, going twice, won't these gentlemen suffice?" Armitage, a young lawyer, is suddenly thrown into an auction house to atone for the crime of not finding a wife by 25. It's a living hell... until he meets Ben.

• My Jolly Sailor Bold by @ellalba (<1k, G) A ship wonders into the Knight’s of Ren territory and get taken down by Kylo and his knights. Kylo has always been fascinated by humans but never really gotten the opportunity to actually interact with one in a way that doesn’t end with bloody murder. So he spots his opportunity to keep one when he sees a survivor getting away in a rowboat. A survivor with red hair.

• Take A Jump And Pray, May The Force Guide You by @ggerisminth (5.5k, M) The Resistance won, there is peace, well their version of peace. It isn't peace, it isn't even stability. It's just as worse as it was if not worse. But the far greater tragedy is the death of her family, and she will do everything in her power to get them back, even if that means using a technology created by the Sith to take her back in time. Even if it means that it might not work, or that she can never come back. She will never stop fighting to get them back, that is a promise. A promise to the Force, the Stars, and the Moon.

• Stay or Go? by Lokisbestgirl (5k, M) Hux enters into an arranged marriage with General Pryde for power and protection, but he's not getting any satisfaction in the bedroom. When Kylo comes around, they start sleeping together behind Enric's back and Hux finds out he is expecting. The trick is to get Pryde to sleep with Armitage again before suspicion arises. Will Pryde find out or will they get away with it all?

• Fixed by Offing (<1k, T) There was a small bottle sitting on the side table. It was clear, filled with a yellow liquid, and labeled simply, “Happiness”. A hypodermic needle sat next to it.

• I Really Wish I Hated You by inquisitor_tohru (1.5k, T) In another galaxy far, far away, Kylo Ren becomes aware that the voices he's hearing may not be aIl that they seem and comes to the unfortunate conclusion that Hux may be his only hope.

• Caim by Eiramma (20k, T) Hux is stolen from his academy bunk late one night and is dumped on the frozen waste land that is Ilum along with a small handful of his other classmates. Despite never having dreamed a night of his life, on his first night on this frozen planet, Hux finds himself in the body of an angry padawan, Ben Solo. As his stay on Ilum continues, it becomes apparent that pair of them share some sort of deep connection forged through mysticism of the Force, that permits them spend their dreams in one another's waking lives, and Hux has no idea why. But with danger lurking around every snow covered tree, Hux begins to wonder if he will be able to live long enough to understand the mystery of their bond, never mind deal with the growing fondness for the other boy that has begun to bloom in his heart.

• A War of Wages by R_Quarion (2.9k, M) When Kylo Ren kills Palpatine and the power is passed onto him, the Rebellion becomes a story of the past. With the First and Final Order in control of the galaxy, Hux cannot believe that he doesn't even have control over his own paychecks. Phasma is stubborn.

• Wookie Wash by @bostarsky & @sunnywritesstuff (5.6k, E) There had been posters, propaganda on the minuscule level. Nobody had been bold enough to do anything directly, but Hux could tell the decision had not been taken well by his men. That was when he had prompted the head of morale on base to do something about the insurrection, and she had told him she would fix it. Hoping he had finally washed his hands of the matter, Hux had gone back about his day as normal. That had been three days ago, before all the racket. The issue with the campaign was that the model who had been shown in the ad was... Incredibly attractive, to say the least, and apparently the morale officer said that that man was none other than Kylo Ren. Now, nobody had ever seen his face before, but everyone always assumed he was ugly. Hux loathed drama and gossip of all kinds, it distracted his officers from their important duties... But even he couldn't get over the ridiculousness of the new advertisement. There was no way in the galaxy that such an attractive man could be under that mask, and Hux wanted to get to the bottom of it.

• To be Licked, Topped and Loved by hexgoldyloins (2.1k, E) Ren wants to be licked, topped and loved. Hux is willing to explore that.

• For This One Night by Lady_Faulkner (<1k, T) As Starkiller Base nears its completion, Supreme Leader Snoke orders General Hux to go on vacation. The general isn’t pleased. At least he has Kylo Ren in a speedo to look at.

• Halloween Candles by @paperprinc3 (1.3k, M) Ben convinces his friend Hux to help him with a ritual so that Ben can try and talk to his dead grandfather Anakin. The ritual requires a virgin host to take the spirit however Hux didn't think that it was meant literally.

• Fate Is A Cruel Thing by shinogi (<1k, T) What would happen if Kylo was on the steadfast during the events that took place to Hux?

• An Eros Festival Gift by Lady_Faulkner (<1k, T) Hux has been away for two weeks, but he’s due back on the start the Eros Festival, a galaxy wide festival of love, and Kylo has the perfect gift for him. That is, he hopes he does.

• An Earned Reward by PrincessDesire (5.2k, E) Hux rewards his sub Ren for a successful mission.

• Snow Powered by IsaiahVirus (<1k, G) Kylo finds comfort in the snow and in Hux.

• Calligraphy by @emperorsvornskr (1.1k, T) Kylo goes back to an old form of meditation assistance, and asks Hux to participate to give them both some stress relief.

• He's Got the Whole World in his Hands by undernightlight (<1k, G) Finally, he is the Supreme Leader. He has the power he’s always deserved, the power that was promised to him, so then, why does he still feel hollow?

• Twin Crowns by kylux_nonsense (<1k, G) Twin thrones, one black marble on white floor, one white marble on black floor. Twin crowns, one rests amongst long, dark hair, one sits atop fiery red. There is but one galaxy, and in all its infinite variety every corner owes its allegiance to one or the other.

• Eh, it's love by @abboh (<1k, G) Hux was never one to show love of any degree but then there was Kylo, who showed his love in his own little ways.

• Castles in the Sand by orphan_account (2.4k, T) A depressed General Hux and his secretive obsessive pining for Kylo Ren.

• The Duel of the Fates by mheb (31.2k, E) Hux’s datapad chimed again, a call from Kuat this time, and he sighed aloud at it, exasperated. “What?” Hux leaned back in his chair, eyeing the holographic figure seated across from him, the shadowy form of their TIE cockpit barely visible around their body, the entire image emitted from the steel inlay in the far wall that Hux used to transmit his speeches. Hux carelessly knocked over a good half of the physical chess pieces in front of him, putting his bare feet up on his desk. His projected guest scowled at him. But Hux paled at the words that met his ears through his datapad. 'Jedi are with the rebel group that bombed the fueling station...the girl is here.' He ended the call without a goodbye, returning to the other conversation he’d been having, up until this point quite pleasant. “Ren.”

• And They Were Bottoms! (~oh my God, they were bottoms~) by Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi (<1k, T) Kylo and Hux both had very similar -and yet very different- plans for how their first night of intimacy was going to go.

• Tough Games by ouigeneral (4k, E) Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux have been participating in a secret relationship for a while. Both men love power play and experimenting with bondage. One night Hux organises a surprise for Kylo. Kylo certainly is surprised.

• Hate until you love by SuperEllen (<1k, T) Can you hate someone so much that you actually love them?

• Mark Me, Burn Me (the sun is nothing compared to you) by DiamondCrystalInk (1.7k, T) Enjoying a morning on Coruscant, Hux gives Ren a proposition. It's time Hux leaves his mark.

• Put Your Money on Me by Asrael_Valtiri (2.5k, E, WIP) He felt Ren press against his back, wrap his arms around his waist. He couldn’t help himself; he leaned back into Ren’s broad chest. Hux was glad their full-length mirror was behind them; he didn’t want Ren to see his face. So Hux closed his eyes a moment, let himself pretend he possessed all he’d ever wanted. Power, security, order, galactic peace--and above all, Ren.

• deep by g4t1t0 (2.9k, T) snoke dies and kylo ren is lost. hux hates to see him this way, but for a reason he cant name/hux prefers to see ren enraged, violent, hungry/he gets what he wants

• Heads Will Roll by @pizzzazlut (2.3k, M) Hux and Kylo decide to venture into the notoriously haunted Arkanis Asylum one night to try and see if they can get actual evidence in their ongoing investigation into the question, are ghosts real?

• Grandfather of the Century by ashangel101010 (<1k, T) The Emperor of the Seven Sith Hells does his best to protect his grandson.

• Love and Fear by @abboh (<1k, G) Sometimes it is better to be feared than loved by your people. But, gazing down from above, love can be found amdist all that fear.

• Take A Moment To Ask Yourself, Is This How We Fall Apart? by @bumblebae8 (1k, T) Take a moment to ask yourself… if this is how we fall apart?

• You Ruined It by ravenlights (1.1k, T) Kylo Ren is serious about home-baked muffins, and Hux, well. Hux ruins it.

• Crevices Of Sanity by WynneWritesHQ (<1k, T) How late the hour was, or how ramshackle the small room in which General Hux had decided he would spend the night, did not matter anymore. Not when everything he could think about was the man kissing his neck, carrying him aloft and onto some crates that, miraculously, withstood the general disorder better than the dusty residues beneath his always-well-polished boots.

• Pygmalion by orphan_account (17.4k, T) This is a story inspired by the theme of artificial intelligence and explores Armitage Hux's feelings of loneliness and isolation in the First Order. Unable or unwilling to seek out human connections and relationships, Hux turns to a company which provides custom built androids as personal companions to satisfy his need for intimacy.

Adjacent Ship Recs

• Home for Dinner by DaisyChainz (2.9k, E) Matt is always so sweet and attentive to Techie. When he's having a bad day, Techie tries to be brave enough to make things better for him.

• Icing on the (Strawberry) Cake by Luxuria_Ira (3.6k, G) On a rainy night in June, Clyde takes Stensland up into the rolling hills of West Virginia and asks him a question that's been on the tip of his tongue since they met.

• Better, Ren? by DeviantDarkBelle (1.5k, E) Before Hux and Kylo have to return from leave, Hux hopes he can treat Kylo to something nice. Of course, Thomas and Charlie are more than willing to help out.

• Someone could see us by DeviantDarkBelle (<1k, E) Thomas McGregor is on vacation in NYC. He runs into Charlie Barber. Somewhere along the way, feelings are caught.

• Horny Hearts by Rattlesnake (9.5k, E, WIP) Techie has a new flatmate called Matt and all he can really think about is doing it with him.

• Leaving It Up to You by undernightlight (8k, E) Henry Beard had been staring at him all day - Flip wasn't blind. Once it was just the two of them in the office, Flip decided to casually confront him about why. He had a mild suspicion, but he wanted to know for sure. He likes to be proven right.

• The Might and Measure of Love by @atlinmerrick (1.2k, E) A clearer invitation to go poking around inside Mr Cheung's house was never made, so a minute later and sure enough Clyde found Stens in the bathroom making weird little frantic noises. Clyde knew those noises. They were 'trying desperately to get off because of awkwardly-timed stiffy' noises.

#kylux #fic rec #kylux adjacent #and honestly i'm still a little salty about the same few big fandom fics being recced on lists over and over again #there are almost 14000 fics in the ao3 tag #let's rec something other than cwu

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tobitofunction · 4 years ago

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Jolly Sailor Bold Part 1

A/N: In a different post I talked about how I re-watched Pirates of the Caribbean and mermaid do exist in Star Wars, so do Pirates. So why not try it. Sinker X Siren!Reader

Plo Koon send his Wolfepack on a mission from the Chancellor himself to Yavin 8.

I took some aspects from the mermaids or Melodie from Star Wars it self like the eyes and the plantes but it’s mostly taken from Pirates of the Caribbean on Stranger Tides. I make two parts as it got way longer than I expected

The ship landed on snow and brown covered tundra planet with the name Yavin 8. Sinker stepped out of the ship and looked around,” What are we doing here Sir?” he looked at Wolffe who’s helmet was stuck under his arm,” The General said that the Chancellor need something from this planet” Wolffe said,” What is he looking for?” Sinker drilled, Wolffe was about to open his mouth when the sound of speeders, blasters and yelling cut him off. Wolffe and Sinker quickly placed their buckets on and began shooting at the attackers.

Blasters sound echoded through the space, luckily so far no clone was killed.“Stop” a male accented voice said which stopped the firing , he got of his speeder but stumbled and tumbled off the snowy mountain. The clones looked at each still having his blasters pointed at them. The figure got up and dusted himself off and slowly walked towards them. Wolffe took his helmet off as the figure which now was identified as a Weequay male, his red jacket flutters in the wind along with the braids attached to his hat. “Greetings,” he said staring into Wolffe’s stoic face,”I’m Hondo Ohnaka” he held his hand out to Wolffe but Wolffe didn’t shake it,” Nice to meet you too” he said,” What are you doing here?”Wolffe asked in a flat tone,” So he speaks. Young Man I’m here for the same reason you are” he wrapped his arm around Wolffe’s shoulder which got him a harsh glare from Wolffe,” Melodies” he whispers into Wolffe’s ear. Sinker ears picked up,” Melodies?” he said talking his bucket off,” They live here?” he swallowed, the stories from Melodies where talked about among his brothers and what he heard wasn't good. Hondo turned to Sinker,” You heard the stories son” he said walking towards silver haired clone,” The beauties which eat human flesh” the clones looked at each other, fear staring to creep upon them. Wolffe however just seemed annoyed at the Pirate,” They’re just stories troopers. We have a job from the-“,”. A Meldodie tear is hard to get grumpy gills. Capturing a one is even harder ” he said pointing his bony finger at Wolffe, “ Let’s team up, as I know how to attract them, I did my research” Hondo said. Wolffe stayed silent for a moment,” What’s in it for you Pirate?”,” The glory, not many have survived a Melodie and the Melodie it self”,”Fine but the second we got the tear it’s over and we don’t talk about. Deal?” Wolffe said holding his hand out,” Yes grumpy gills” Hondo shook Wolffe’s hand and than pulled him into his arms making Wolffe growl.

Sinker sat in a boat along side Wolffe, Boost, Comet and Hondo and some other Pirates, around them were his brothers in different boats with Hondo’s crew. “ We have been waiting for a while now? They aren't coming even though I’m looking pretty delicious right now” Boost said,” Maybe it’s your smell Boost, even fish girls don’t want that” Comet said earning a slap and glare from Boost. Hondo however quickly pulled Wolffe’s blaster from his holster and pointed it at Boost,” Sing boy, they love singing” Boost was about reach for his own blaster when a knife was held against his throat, Sinker had a blaster pointed at his temple while Comet also had a knife pointed at him,” Sing little bird” Hondo said taking the safety off. Boost’s eyes moved towards Wolffe who was glaring at Hondo,” Sing Boost” Wolffe said. Boost liked his lips,” Any preference?” Boost joked but the Pirate just pushed the knife closer to Sinker’s neck making him wince,” Just sing boy” Hondo said.

Boost was singing for what feels like an half hour now, his words are becoming slurred and his eyes feel heavy. His brother’s don’t have any weapon pointed at them anymore which made him relived. Sinker from the corner of his eyes saw something shimmering in the dark water which made him sit up straight, he hit Comet’s shoulder and pointed at it. It soon vanished under the boat, Wolffe felt the boat move which made him look up, both Sinker and Comet where staring at the dark waters with wide eyes,”What’s going on?” he asked. Sinker’s head moved towards his Commander’s when he noticed the woman leaning on the boat, her red hair was wet, he skin was glittering in the light of the other moon,” Commander!” he said pointing towards her. Now everyone was awake and looked at the direction Sinker was pointing, Boost eyes widen,”Wow”, Comet however didn’t seem to trust the girl and pointed his blaster at her,” Stop it Comet” Booster said pushing his brother back on his ass taking the blaster from him,” You scare her off” he added throwing the blaster onto Wolffe’s lap. Boost made his way over to the girl,” Can you speak?” he asked softly, the girl was a few inches away from the boat staring at Boost with interest. A smile appeared on her face when Boost came closer,”Yes” she said while swimming back to the boat and placing her arms on the rim of the boat,”Your beautiful” he said looking her up and down,”Did you sing?” she asked sweetly,”Yes, if you want to hear more just asked” he flirted, Sinker pinched the bridge of his nose and Wolffe shook his head, Hondo meanwhile watched with interest. Boost was about to touch her face when Sinker, Wollfe and Comet pulled him back,”Get yourself together Boost” Sinker said,” Let me go, just let me have it. There wasn’t much life has giving me, so just let me kiss a PROPER Melodie” he said ripping himself from his brothers grip

My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me but my Jolly Sailor Bold. Come all your pretty fair maids, whoever you may be, who love a Jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

The girls voice was enchanting, capturing Boost full attention with every word leaving her perfect lips he came closer to her. Sinker looked around more Melodies surrounded them, swimming closer to them. Each boat has Melodies surrounding, enchanting both Clones and Pirates. Comet was holding out his blaster, ready shoot if it was needed. Their long fish tails were glittering under the waters, their yellow eyes glowing in a mysterious yet charming way. Sinker felt a bit relieved that he stuck between Boost and Comet, safe enough from the seductive creatures. Sinker looked at Boost with widen eyes as he was pulled under water by the girl. Just in seconds chaos broke out, Comet and Sinker pulled Boost back into the boat as the Melodies started to attack. There once welcoming yellow eyes turned turned into slits, there teeth turned sharp like a Karkarodons and their finger became sharp. From beside Comet a Pirate was pulled into the waters, his screams were muffled by the dark waters, his figure quickly vanishing,” Commander what’s the plan?” Sinker asked shooting into the waters hoping to kill one of them,” Just keep blasting” Wolffe ordered just at the moment when a Melodie grabbed his leg, he landed onto his stomach on the boat, his blaster flying into the waters,” Kriff” he shouted kicking the Melodies face harshly making her let go,” TRY TO GET TO LAND” Wolffe shouted, Sinker looked around on the other boats, clones and Pirates were dragged into the depth of the lake, some were getting lucky and re-appeared on the surface,” Don’t kill them, we need them alive” Hondo said punching a siren in the face who was tugging on his jacket. The boat started to shake strongly, hands shot through the floor of the boat, one even managing to grap onto Sinker’s ankle, the sharp finger dug into his flesh drawing blood, a yelp left his mouth as the hand pulled him down through the floor into the ice cold water along side his brothers. Sinker felt arms wrap around and push him deeper into the lake, he barley made the figures of his brothers out which were swimming to shore. He tried to scream but his bucket was filled with water. His eyes began to becomd heavy, his lungs filling with water and he feels his limps becoming heavier with every moment the Melodie dragged him down.

Boost staggered on land along side Wolffe, Comet and Hondo. Few of his brothers where there already, panting heavily. Boost looked around and saw the dead bodies of Pirates and clones being washed up. Some had bite marks all over their bodies, some where missing limps and some where just a head, an arm or a leg. Boost looked around,” Where’s Sinker?” he asked making Wolffe and Comet look as well,” Taken out for Dinner apparently” Hondo said with a laugh, his remaining men laughed as well but Boost just started at him, he looked across the lake, bodies where floating around and broken parts of boats. It seemed that Hondo’s men where the most killed during the attack which brought some type of comfort to him. Boost stepped deeper into the water but was pulled back by Wolffe,” Boost, he’s dead, I’m sorry” Wolffe said, his hair was dripping wet and sticking to his forehead, his cheeks where red from cold water, his helmet was cracked in varies places. Boost swallowed, Sinker was more than a brother to him, he was his best friend, they did everything together, he still remembers their training like it was yesterday.

Sinker coughed up water, he squeezed his eyes shut as the light of the moon was blinding. His body was aching, his lungs hurt and he was shivering. He looked around and saw that he was on land somehow. He heard splashing in front of him and saw something trying to get away but it was stuck under a piece of wood, probably of a boat. Sinker quickly got up but his knees buckled making crash back onto the icy ground. The creature at this pointed freed itself and swam away, he quickly got and grabbed a paddle that was broken in half and followed the creature. Sinker stabbed the sharp part of the paddle into the fin drawing blood. A gasp was hurt, his eyes widen,” A Melodie” he mumbled. You looked at Sinker terrified,you didn't say anything but started at the silver haired man in front of you. The pain in your fin wasn’t strong but brought you discomfort. Sinker like you didn't say anything, he was speechless, like the other Melodies you were drop dead beautiful, your golden eyes seem kind and innocent in some ways. Sinker saw you tugging at the paddle which made gasp,he removed the paddle thinking you will vanish into the deep waters or attack him but you just stared at him with wide eyes. Sinker was about to say something when a net was thrown over you, a hiss escaped your mouth, you began trashing inside the net but it let to you being even more tangled. “Good Work boy” Hondo said as his men wrap a robe around you and gagged you. Sinker was shocked at the sight and was about to interject when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him,” Your alive Sinker. How did you mange that?” Boost asked with tears of happiness in his eyes,” I don’t now?” Sinker said quietly watching you getting thrown into a tank of water.

“Where are we going?” Wolffe asked Hondo who was trailing behind two pirates and two clones which are carrying the tank with you in it. Sinker was right behind Wolffe peering over his shoulder to look at you. Your left hand was pressed against the glass, your tail was wrapped around you, as there was barley any space to move.” To the ships son, we need to go different planet. It’s to dangerous here, many predators” Hondo said,” What planet?” Sinker asked pressing himselft between Wolffe and Hondo,” Yavin 4″ Hondo said just when a Pirate seemed to loose his footing, he crashed to the ground, the tank fell with him breaking into pieces, you landed on the cold grown, tail flipping around until it dissolved into legs. You pulled you bare legs towards you also naked chest, covering your body from the eyes of everyone who was staring with wide eyes and open mouths,” I didn’t expect that” Hondo said rubbing his chin,” Give me your jacket” Sinker said to Hondo,” Excuse me?”,” Your jacket, she freezing” Sinker said nodding towards you. Hondo sighed deeply and took his jacket off and handed it to Sinker,” It better not smell like fish and when it does you can wash it” Hondo said but Sinker ignored it and slowly walked towards you. Sinker wrapped the red leather jacker over your shoulders making you jump, you looked over you shoulder and made eye contact with Sinker, you where fascinated with his big golden eyes which looked at you with kindess. A cough pulled yours and Sinker attention away from each other to Hondo,” You must walk than” he shrugged. You looked at Sinker who wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you up, the feeling of having legs is new and strange to you. You tried to take a step but your knees buckled and you crashed back into the ground,” I can’t” you said pulling the jacket closer to your body. Sinker licked his lips,” I carry her, it’s just to our ships and to the destination in Yavin 4″ your whole body tensed at the mention of Yavin 4,” No, I rather die than go” you hissed moving away from Sinker’s grasp,” Well honey, you don’t have a choice” Hondo said, he was right and you knew it. Your shoulders slumped in defeat, Sinker crouched down beside you,” Put your arms around me” he said softly, you looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but goodness in them, you hesitantly put your arms around his broad shoulder, his arms hooking under your arm and waist. He stood up with you in arms looking at Hondo,” Let’s get going”.

Sinker placed you on a crate on their ship, helping you putting the jacket on better. His eyes gazed over your whole body,” So beautiful, the force was kind to you” he said,” But so deadly” he said making you furrow your brows,” Deadly? No” you said making him confused,” You attacked me” he said crouching down in front of you. The ship was shaking a bit during the flight making Sinker grab onto the crate your sitting own,” No” you said shaking your head. Sinker though for a while before asking" Where you the one who brought me on the surface?” you nodded,”Why?”,” Your different aren’t you? You protect, I saw you protect” you said looking into Sinker’s eyes. Sinker didn’t now what to say, he was speechless, how can you save him when your sister killed so many of his brothers. Sinker was so deep in though he didn't even notice the ship land and Wolffe’s voice call out for them. “Sinker bring the creature” he heard Wolffe call out again,” SHE HAS A NAME WOLFFE” he shouted back making Wolffe narrow his eyes at him,” Enlighten us Sinker”,” Y/N, her name is Y/N”. You looked at him, your heart fluttering at his words, at the name he has given you.

Yavin 4 was different in every way to Yavin 8. It was warm and humid, trees, bushes and different types of fauna was every where. Your head was leaning against Sinker chest, his heartbeat calming your nerves. “Follow me boys and you soon have that tear and I have the fame of owning a mermaid” he said squeezing your cheeks but you hissed at him,” Feisty just how I like my women” he said," but you won't be so feist soon" she whispered. Sinker’s grasp tighten around you and he shoot glares at Hondo,” Let’s get moving”.

They arrived at a space which made Sinker choke, their where holes of water all around, mummified bodies of Melodies where strapped at poles, their lower bodies still in the water some completely out.” What is this?” Wolffe asked turning to Hondo,” That’s how you get a tear, Melodies are tough creatures, that’s why their tears are so rare” Hondo snapped his fingers and a two pirates came to Sinker, one held a blaster at his temple while the other grabbed you out of his arms and pulled you towards a free water hole.” You going to kill her?”Sinker asked anger rising in his voice, he grabbed the blaster out of the Pirates hand and pointed it at Hondo,” Just encouraging her, but the better question why do you care?” Sinker licked his lips,” Oh I see, you have a little crush on her” Boost lifted a brow at Sinker. Hondo walked over to you, your arms where tied over your head to the wooden pool behind you, your lower half was completely under water,” What about you little Y/N?” he said taking his jacket from his men, you didn't say anything but he noticed your red cheeks,” She does, what a bummer” Hondo said trying to caress your cheek but you hissed at him. He quickly removed his hand away from you with a laugh,”Y/N all this can be over in a minute, just give us a tear” Wolffe said softly surprising his men,” We all die, some sooner than others” you said confusing the clones. Hondo rolled his eyes and looked at a large pirate double the size of a clone,” Than I have to convince you” he said. The Giant grabbed Sinker by the neck and lifted him off the ground, all clones pointed their blasters at the giant but he just squeezed Sinker’s neck harder,” Y/N, I hate being the bad guy, just one little tear and little clone boy is save” you moved your head away from Hondo,” Shame, let him go”. Sinker dropped to the ground with a thud and a gasp,” Let’s give Y/N some privacy, boys”.

Sinker sat beside Comet who was stuffing his face with bread, Hondo and his Pirates are sipping on a bottle of rum each,” Why do you need that tear anyway?” Hondo slurred,” It’s no of your business” Wolffe said gluing his helmet back together,” Do you even know what that tear does?” Wolffe didn’t answer,” I take that as a no. The tear of a Melodie can heal any wound, any illness and can even safe someone from death”. The clones mumbled between each other,” So my guess it’s for someone really important but tears don’t work without special water from a hidden source in Yavin 13” Hondo said throwing the empty bottle behind him and grabbing the bottle from the Pirate next to him,” And I believe that person you are getting it for knows that and has that water ”. Sinker sighed and looked at the direction where you are being held hostage. Guilt flooded his mind, if wasn't for him you would have never been captured, you will be with your sister, feasting on a pirate or just swimming freely. He looked around and saw that everyone was busy with something and decided to sneak away to free you, He didn’t care about the mission anymore, he is ready to pay the price for his actions. All he cares about that you are free.

You felt sick, your eyes were heavy, you weren't wet enough. You heard twigs breaking but you were to weak to move.” Y/N?” Sinker said softly, your eyes open slowly, he was untying you,” Sinker, you came for me” you said. He cupped your cheek and stroked it softly,” Of course Y/N, of course I came back for you. I checked and there is a lake close by, I think those holes connect to them. You will be safe their, lots of fish to eat” he said tracing your lips with thump,” Oh Sinker, thank you so much” a tear fell down you cheek at the kindness of the clone. It was all destroyed in seconds however when two pirates grabbed your arm pulling closer to them. Sinker was pushed back and Hondo caught you tear in a silver container,” Tears of happiness are stronger anyway” he said handing the container to Wolffe. You were tied back onto the pole by the Pirates,” What are you doing?” Sinker asked grabbing Hondo by the collar,” We have a deal savvy, you get the tear and I get the Melodie” Hondo said,” Why are you tying her up?” he asked his fingers digging into Hondo’s chest,” She has no value alive beside the tear, a lot of people want Melodies for wall decoration or to eat” Hondo said pushing Sinker off him,” Wollfe you can’t let him kill her” Sinker said looking at his brother,” I’m sorry Sinker but it was part of the deal. We need to go now, the Chancellor is waiting” Hondo snapped his fingers,” That was my guess, I would be careful with that Chancellor Wolfie. Only bad guys are looking for ways to out run death” Wolffe rolled his eyes,” Your drunk Pirate, let’s go men”. Sinker wasn’t moving but was looking at you, his heart filled with anger and more guilt filled him,” I’m sorry” he mumbled. You looked away from him, angry, upset and scared. Boost clapped Sinker’s shoulder,” Come on brother, let’s go” Sinker sighed and made his way to the ship.

#The Clone Wars #Clone Troopers #the wolfepack #clone wars wolfepack #clone trooper sinker #sinker x reader #clone trooper x reader #clone trooper wolffe #Commander Wolffe #clone trooper boost #clone trooper comet #sirens

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twstismymuse · 4 years ago

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Hello hello!!

First ever post!! Yay!!

This is a little piece I whipped up after getting inspired browsing through pinterest

(Yes i use pinterest they actually have pretty good stuff on there)

Anyways this scenario features my Professor oc, Kathryne Bones ☠️

She’s twisted from Captain Hook and I’ll have more on her soon!

In the meantime, enjoy my pirate queen kicking misogyny right in the dick!!

{Title: A Valuable Lesson}

{Summary: Professor Bones puts a few narrow minded students in their place through a hands on demonstration.}

{Warnings: Misogyny, degrading comments, strong language, objectification}

(Pssst, some character info has been updated here)

—————————————————————

It was supposed to be smooth sailing for her. It had only been a week since Kathryne Bones was recognized as a professor and Geography was added to the curriculum at the esteemed NRC and she couldn’t have been happier. Sure she’d had to push and shove to be able to secure the position of a professor at the college, but the college had only recently begun it’s transformation as a co-ed school and the pure fact that she got the job was a feat in itself as a respected educator. There were doubts about her “qualifications” to be a teacher, but Kathryne was determined to break through those boundaries and prove she could teach a class filled with young boys as good as any man.

Kathryne adored her students and wanted to push them to be the best they could be! Geography was an essential subject, to learn not only about the world they inhabited but the people in Twisted Wonderland as well.

She really thought she would be able to gain their respect.

For the most part, it was adorable seeing the looks on their faces when she walked into the classroom and introduced herself as their new professor.

“Welcome boys! My name is Kathryne Bones and I’ll be your Geography professor. I trust that we’ll be able to get along and you lot won’t feel too put off by me. Savvy?”

“...”

“I’m asking you all if you understand.”

“Ohhhhh…”

The first half of class went swimmingly. Many of the students asked genuinely interesting questions and gave insightful responses. They paid close attention when she pulled up a map of Twisted Wonderland and began pointing out key locations.

“As we can see, the Afterglow Savannah’s absolute location-”

“You should bend over a little more!”

Her metal finger paused and hovered over the labeled country on the map. It took her a moment to fully comprehend what had happened as the sound of snickering and cruel laughter echoed throughout the classroom.

“Or better yet, show us your tits!”

“Doesn’t this school have a dress code? A teacher shouldn’t be walking around in clothes like that, you know.”

“Showing that much skin on the job?”

“Maybe she’s some pirate whore-”

Kathryne kept her back turned toward the chalkboard, yet several students spoke up in her defense.

“Hey, assholes!! The fuck is wrong with you, she’s tryna teach us here!!” A boy with bright red hair and a heart painted on his right eye snarled at the group.

“That is no way to treat a professor, much less a lady!!” A student with slicked back hair and pointed brows barked.

Ace Trappola and Sebek Zigvolt, her brain helpfully offered.

“Come on! What was the school thinking letting a female professor teach at NRC?” One of the ruffians, a Heartslaybul ribbon around his arm, scoffed and reclined in his seat while his friends sniggered. A student with violet hair and soft blue eyes, glared daggers at them and spoke loudly.

“Professor Bones is just trying to do her job, it's very rude to-”

“Please Felmier, in that get up? My dad was right when he said NRC was really going to the dogs-”

“It seems to me, lad, that your father has a rather narrow mindset.”

“Eh?”

Kathryne turned around, a brilliant sickly sweet beam on her face as she moved towards the center of the classroom.

“What did you say about my-”

“I’d like to know what gives you the right to question my authority and not only that, but disrupt my lesson. Is it because you feel the need to say something? Well, the floor is yours now. Do enlighten all of us on what exactly your father has to say about NRC’s reputation.”

The student paused, thrown off guard by the unwanted spotlight suddenly cast on him and the eyes that were watching him and his friends.

He gulped before attempting to maintain his composure, “W-well...he...he said that he didn’t know what the headmaster was thinking, bringing in a woman to teach us-”

“So, just to fully comprehend what you’re saying...your father believes that simply because I am a member of the opposite sex, I’m not able to teach a class filled with males?”

“Well-”

“Look at what you’re wearing though!! What kind of respectable teacher would go around looking like that? It’s distracting! My mother never wears clothes like that!” One of the boy’s friends, an Ingihyde student, came to his aid.

“...I see. Yes, I understand completely!” She clapped her hands together and her eyes sparkled, “Students! I just had the most wonderful idea! Why don’t we try a more hands-on approach~?”

Beckoning the Heartslaybul student forward with her finger she called, “Could you come down here please?”

Confusion and befuddlement visible on everyone’s faces as the young man came forward as instructed.

“Yes, just stand riiiiight there, perfect! Now as for me…” Walking over to the desks, she squeezed past the boys and sat right in the empty seat left by the Heartslaybul student. “Alright, now I want you to go to the board and I want you to pick up my lesson right where we left off, can you do that?”

He hesitantly nodded and turned around to face the wide map. Kathryne nudged one of the male’s friends on her left and gave a sly wink just as the boy started talking.

“Um, well...the Afterglow Savannah is located at uh-”

“Hey, why don’t you bend over a little more? I can’t see your ass all that clearly, sailor.”

He paused while much of the class began snickering under their breaths as the boy’s friends fidgeted in their seats.

“Or better yet, why don’t you just rip your shirt off for me?”

He turned his head slightly, visibly embarrassed and uncomfortable with her cajoling.

“You shouldn’t be walking around with your shirt unbuttoned like that, you’re showing way too much skin during school hours, you know. And your pants are far too tight, I can practically see your bulge through them. I mean really, what were you thinking walking around like that?”

She looked around enthusiastically, yet the male’s friends avoided her eyes, the Ignihyde student scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What’s wrong? You all were so enthusiastic when I was in your mate’s position? Why won’t you join in?”

They remained silent, yet she pressed, “Go on, tell me, I’m listening.”

“...B-because it’s-”

“Uncomfortable? Derogatory? Demeaning? You all seemed like you were having a jolly good time speaking to me that way, objectifying my body and criticizing my outfit though. What changed?”

“Your...sh-shirt…”

“How is my shirt different from his? We’re both showing a bit of skin, yet you feel the need to tell me and not him to cover up?”

“It’s because of...of...”

“Don’t be shy now, I want to hear it.”

“Your...your chest-”

“Ahhhh, I see. Yes, I mustn't let anyone see any hint of the tissue overlying my pectoral muscles. They’re not at all nearly the same in terms of our biology, isn’t that correct?”

“...”

Kathryne carried on as she stood up and made her way back to the floor, “Isn’t it funny how as a matter of fact, Professor Crewel who I know you all hold in great respect, also is fond of wearing form fitting clothes that accentuate his assets yet not one of you seem keen on interrupting his lesson by shouting obscenities at him? What makes my fashion choice different from his? These are the clothes I feel comfortable in, clothes that I feel confident in, yet you lot want to try and bring me down by calling me a whore. I bet you all wouldn’t be so quick to critique me if I told all of you to cover up from head to toe because seeing your uniforms is distracting to me. How would that make you all feel?”

There was no answer, a slight muttering under hushed tones and an uneasy silence filling the air.

“You have no right to tell me what to do with my body and how I decide to dress. You’re all here to learn, not to jack off in the middle of my class to the busty school teacher. I’ll have you know, this is the very same outfit I wore when I commandeered the fiercest crew of buccaneers the seven seas had ever seen. This is the outfit I demanded respect from them in and it will be the outfit you will respect me in. Savvy?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Professor Bones.”

“Excellent. Now, let’s get back to the lesson. As for you four…” Her gaze landed on the group, a smirk on her lips seeing how shaken they looked. “I’ll be reporting this behavior to each of your dorm heads as well as the Headmaster and they’ll deal with you properly. I’m not fond of dishing out punishments like Professor Crewel, but I happen to know Heartslaybul in particular is a real stickler for the rules.”

“Let’s see…” She mused, turning her attention back to the map. “Who can tell me the Afterglow Savannah’s absolute location?”

Perhaps her academic career wouldn’t be as difficult as she thought.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #kathryne bones #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola #epel felmier #twst crewel #kathryne says no ❤️ to misogyny

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orangerosebush · 4 years ago

Text

Jolly Sailor Bold [ao3]

On the night that they first met, she'd called him her pirate king.

************************************************************

The year was 1985.

The Anglo-Irish Agreement had just been signed. The River Thames was dead. In the east, the Berlin wall stood strong (it would soon fall); in the west, the Northern Ireland peace walls towered high (they would not). Cold war, civil war, world war — wherever you turned, violence was desperate to weave itself back into global politics.

Untouched, The Ivy sat in the center of West Street.

Old money had their own problems to worry about.

Artemis Fowl I was young and invincible in a sea of men guided more by money than they were by convictions. Tonight wasn't his fête, but it might as well have been — it was impossible to even tell who the original host was when the guests fawned over him, hanging on to his every word. He was the golden boy of the night, and his last name loomed larger than life.

How could it not? When the world seemed on the precipice of a terrible, unknown future, a name that spanned centuries, that spanned a history of every unthinkable era in humanity's past, was a life-preserver. The name Fowl was well-worn and bloody — yet it persisted.

It survived, and that was enough.

Artemis Fowl I was young.

The night was ebbing into the dawn, and Artemis had grown bored of the chattering sycophants that had encircled him as the party grew livelier.

He was drunk, but he wasn't drunk enough to believe that the socialites at this party truly believed his every joke to be funny to the point of uproarious laughter.

Stepping into the cool air of the night, he breathed in the soft, salty air.

He frowned, shuddering despite himself.

"Too much to drink?"

Artemis started, jolted from his thoughts as though clumsily waking up from a dream.

There was a woman leaning against the alleyway. She chuckled at his confusion, covering her mouth with a hand demurely.

"No," he said, a tad brusquely. The woman didn't even flinch, taking it in stride.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," she smiled, her wide, brown eyes twinkling in the gloom of the street lights.

He found himself staring.

"I don't believe… we've met," he attempted, remembering his manners. She tilted her head, her smile deepening.

"You would be correct."

Shaking his head as if to sober up, he refocused his gaze on her. There was a slight chill in the air, but not nearly enough to warrant a full fur coat like the one draped about her. Stranger still was the jewelry she was wearing. Perched fetchingly around her neck was an unusual pearl necklace — even with his hazy vision, it was clear that each of the pearls was distinctly different from the others. Soft pinks, baby blues, and light grays adorned the asymmetric and lumpy beads. Those were fishermen's pearls, Artemis thought, admiring the way they caught the moonlight. When he was a boy, his father had cracked open a small series of oysters from down by the docks to show him the difference between the shape of the natural pearl and the polished counterpart on his mother's brooch. In the fading light, Artemis found he couldn't remember the point of that lesson.

He opened his mouth, at a loss for words. "I-" he began, furrowing his brow in thought. "What's your name?"

"Angeline," she responded, and the name sounded almost like a secret.

He swallowed.

"Oh," he said feebly. "I'm…Artemis."

"A hunter, then," Angeline raised her eyebrows.

"A Fowl," he stressed. She looked at him blankly.

"Pardon?"

Deflating a bit, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm Artemis Fowl," he specified, trying to be nonchalant.

Seemingly understanding that she was missing something, Angeline laughed. "Good for you!"

Whether it was the alcohol or the night air, Artemis found himself laughing with her. Boldened, he reached for her hands, clasping them in his. "Tell me that you'll come dance with me," he requested.

She cocked her head. "Is tonight that sort of party?" she glanced through the windows of the restaurant, trying to spy inside.

He shook his head dismissively. "No. Dance with me anyway, though."

"Alright, Artemis," she said, offering him her arm. Delightedly, he took it, leading her inside the restaurant.

************************************************************

He ends up stealing her cloak off the coat rack when she wanders off to grab a drink.

Artemis didn't quite know why he did it, but the fur of the garment is soft in his hands as he haphazardly shoves it at the Major, ordering him to hide it.

Perhaps she'll try to meet him again in order to find the cloak, he reasoned back in his hotel that night.

The cloak remains in the trunk, collecting dust.

************************************************************

They married a year later.

It was a private affair, which is what you'd expect for a couple half-composed of an individual who, on paper, at least, didn't exist.

Angeline, he thinks that night as they lay in bed. Watching the moonlight dapple over her sleeping form, he gently moved a honey-colored curl away from her face. Angeline Fowl.

When he finally drifts off to sleep, he dreams of the sea.

************************************************************

For the first few years of their son's life, Angeline and Artemis Sr. trade off each night to tell their son bedtime stories. When he is older, Artemis Fowl II will recall his father's story of the fae fondly, giving it the high title of being his favorite story.

The tale of the leprechaun was his father's story, but his mother had her own favorite tale to tell.

Tucking her son into bed, Angeline reached to turn the light down low. Despite the fact her voice was soft as she spoke, he listened, wide awake.

"A human will take a merrow's cloak and keep them on the land for a few years," she whispered, tracing swirls over the duvet almost dreamily. "But the merrow always, always finds their cloak."

Her son blinked, his deep blue eyes wide. "What happens after that?"

"They go back to the sea."

"Are they not angry with the human?"

"No. If a merrow doesn't want to be caught, it is all too easy to plunge deep into the ocean and never reemerge," Angeline explained gently. "They let themselves get caught. After all, you sometimes must give up a little to get what you want. The merrow will stay on land for a brief while with the human, and when their time is up, they will return to the sea, taking the human with them."

"So they drown them, then."

She brushed his hair aside fondly. "You are so smart, Arty. But I'm afraid there is still much you do not know. A human body cannot breathe under the sea, but souls are hardy things, and that's what is important."

He furrowed his brow, clutching the covers of his bed. "That's what's important?"

She nodded. "Even so, before diving back into the sea, the merrow will make sure to wrap the soul up carefully in a spider-silk handkerchief. After that, they'll put on their cloak, put the handkerchief into their pocket, and swim back down into the depths. The sea is much nicer for the soul than land is, anyway," she pinched his cheek, and Artemis wrinkled his nose.

"Are you saying that the soul just… stays in their pocket?"

"Oh, of course not," she looked at him in confusion. "Souls aren't meant to be kept in pockets — that'd be barbaric. They're kept in shipwrecks."

He sighed stubbornly, letting go of the covers. "I don't see how that's much better."

Angeline looked at him as though he'd said something quite silly, grinning indulgently. "It just is, my dear."

************************************************************

To lay with a merrow is to give your soul up to the sea.

Artemis Sr. would promise his wife that he was leaving on his final business trip before he set sail on the Fowl Star.

He almost made it to the Kandalaksha Gulf before the ocean swallowed him up.

************************************************************

The sea can be convinced to change its mind, however, and Artemis Sr. was spat back out amongst the dirty water of the wreck, flailing and choking on the fumes of the burning ship and the sickly sweet smell of the cola spilling out into the Russian gulf.

He would live.

The water knew that miles away, years away, his son would come to these shores to drag him back home.

Artemis Sr.'s time was not yet up.

************************************************************

When he awoke years later, he was in the Helinski hospital surrounded by a tearful Angeline and a guilty looking son. Moving slowly due to the haze of the pain medication, he tried to sit up. He nearly careened forward, and a nurse rushed to his side, steadying him.

Artemis Sr. peered quizzically down at the sheets, feeling unbalanced.

His leg.

He inhaled shakily, grasping at the sheets blindly. He was missing a leg.

Breathing heavy, he looked at his wife and son. Artemis refused to make eye contact. Shaking his head, Artemis Sr. closed his gaping mouth.

"My son," he choked out, forcing himself to smile. "You've grown so much — oh, Arty, come here."

Artemis all but flung himself at his father, embracing him. Artemis Sr. held onto him tightly, as though he was afraid he'd lose him.

"Father," his son breathed, and Artemis Sr. could feel wetness upon his shoulder. They stayed like that for a moment, and the hospital room fell silent.

Suddenly, he felt a hand come to rest on his other shoulder. Artemis Sr. looked up, finding himself eye-to-eye with his wife.

"Angie—?"

"My pirate king," she said softly, gently bringing his chin into her hands and running a thumb over the stubble of his cheek. "You've come back to me."

#Artemis Fowl #fowlfest2020 #Crossover day #my post

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jackielikestea · 4 years ago

Text

My jolly sailor boy

13 years earlier

A young ten year old Argonaut Keene burrowed his head further in his mother’s shoulder as loud canon fire could be heard of the port bow side. Even though he is covering his ears he can still hear his mother humming the sea shantie that she sings to him at night.

He squeezes his eyes close as another boom sounded off.

He felt his mother stiffen and heard the voice of his mother’s first mate who had come down below deck.

“Captain, It seems Jackal’s intel was correct.” He tells her.

“No, please no.” She whispered.

Shabrie stood putting Argo down and turned away from her first mate to look at her son.

“Argo I need you to stay here.” Argo had heard his mother give several orders in his life and he knew this was one.

She leaned down and gave her son the tightest hug she could before she whispered in his ear.

“Trust no one but Jackel, Argo.”

She pulled back, grabbed both of his hands in her’s, she took a moment to look in her son’s big midnight blue eyes.

“I love you, sweetheart. Stay here and stay hidden.” Argo felt her slip something into his hands.

“I love you too, Ma.” Argo told her and he watched as his mother’s eyes filled with tears.

“Captain, we need you on deck.” The first mate said.

“Alright go, I’ll meet you up there.” She turned and rushed up the stairs, but not before looking back to make sure Argo had hidden himself from sight.

“Commodore you son of a bitch!” She yelled as she rushed onto the main deck.

Argo open his hand once he was out of sight and saw the necklace his mother kept tucked away in her shirts. He ran his thumb over the interlocking circles before slipping the chain over his neck, he put his hands back up over his ears as he watched the stairs waiting for his mother to come back down. It could have been hours or minutes before everything finally got quite, the canon fire had stop, the sound of people running around up above him on the main deck had stop, but before he could stand to see what was happening he felt the boards behind blow out and he was pushed into the sea.

Miles away

“Captain, I thought you said we would have smooth sailing until we land.” A beautiful elven women said.

“Miss Maplecourt, I am sorry about your son not fairing well, but not even the Commodore himself can control the seas.” The Captain said.

Dendra Maplecourt looked over at her nine year old son throwing up over the side of the ship as another young boy stood by. The young boy had spent days befriending her son and they have been playing together ever since.

“Son be careful with the new kid he doesn’t have his sea legs yet.” Captain Eden called to his son as he continued his chat with Dendria Maplecourt.

“Yes father. A hero always shows mercy.” Buckminster yelled back.

“I don’t need your mercy.” Fitzroy told him as he leaned against the side of the ship and Buckminster laughed delighted.

“Fitzroy, I cant wait for you to meet Rainer and Leon! You’ll love both of them! Rainer is like the sun and she’s learning how to be a necromancer, and Leon is so strong and he’s older than us which makes him cooler, he doesn’t say much though.” The young Buckminster rambled.

Fitzroy nodded along he had been on this ship for three days and while he was grateful that the only other kid on this ship had taken a liken to him he was also happy to be away from his homeland. From the people and the memories he shared there, here he will meet new people and make new memories. Here he will be something great.

“I’m excited to meet them Buckminster, now I’m feeling a bit better can we please go back to playing pirates.”

“Boy what did I tell you about playing pirates!” Causing both boys to jump.

A Kenku stepped out from beneath the shadows.

“Sorry Mister Jackel.” Buckminster said sheepishly.

Jackel watched the two boys for a moment longer before looking out to sea.

“Why doesn’t Jackel like pirates?” Fitzroy asked.

“Well from what I heard, he was held captive for a year by pirates and he hasn’t like them since.” Buckminster replied in a hush voice.

Fitzroy looked back at where Jackel was standing to see that he was now gone.

“Buckminster, I need you to help Gib, go now.” Captain Eden called.

Buckminster sighed and ran over to where one of the men was struggling with some rope.

Fitzroy stared after him for a moment before looking out to sea. He began to walk along the side of the ship when he saw some wooden planks float by Fitzroy’s eyes jump from board to board before stoping when he saw something blue laying on top of one. At first he thought it was one of the merpeople Buckminster had told him about although, he couldn’t see a tail, the more he look the more uneasy he felt.

“Look, look there! There’s a person in the water.” He yelled.

The next few things happen fast. He heard yelling, some he could decipher as “man over board!” But the rest were orders that went right over his head. He watched as the men pulled the person onto the ship. He found his way to the front of the crowd with his mother right behind him.

“It’s a genasi, aren’t they supposed to breath water.” He heard a crew member ask.

“Yeah, but he’s just a boy, and look at those cuts on him. There must have been attacked.” Another said.

The person in question appeared to be a boy about Fitzroy age, he looked to taller than him. Dark patches of red covered his brown pants and red and white stripe shirt. A large gash on his cheek was currently spilling blood on the deck.

“Oh Gods.” Dendra curse. She stepped out from behind her son and leaned down to the unconscious boy and used her magic stopped the bleeding.

“Someone quick get in touch with the Commodore and see if there’s been attack on any of the near by boats! Everyone else look and see if we can find anymore survivors!” Captain Eden ordered.

The rest of the crew ran to the side of the boats. Fitzroy was frozen in place though as he stared at the boy. His navy blue hair was shoulder length and in a tangle mess and he looked as if he was struggling for every breath he took.

Fitzroy didn’t notice that Jackel had appear right next to him and he could hear him softly coo the word “Shabrie.”

As Fitzroy looked up at him, Jackel looked down at him.

“Fitzroy it’ll be your job to look over the boy. It’s your responsibility to help him get better and keep him safe.” Jackel told him.

Fitzroy looked back at the unconscious boy struggling to breath who had only just stop bleeding every where. His mother insisted that he have good manners and that meant he listen to adults when they told him what to do. Even if he didn’t agree to it.

As he looked back to ask why he had to and not the medic, Jackel was gone once again.

Fitzroy huffed and walked over to the boy slowly. He looked him over and saw something hanging from his neck. His eyes flickered from the other boys face to the chain and he reached his hand out and carefully pulled it off him to take a closer look at it.

The chain was light and the metal work design in it look like it was chainmail. It was rather nice, but Fitzroy couldn’t help but get the feeling that it held a deeper meaning.

A cough startled him out of his thoughts and he looked down to see the boy coughing heavy sounding coughs. Fitzroy tucked the necklace in his pockets and leaned down to help him sit up.

Just as he reached out to touch him his wrist was caught before he could even touch him and Fitzroy’s eyes widen as he locked eyes with the deepest set of blue eyes he had ever seen.

“Where am I?” He asked.

“You’re on a ship. I found your body drifting out at sea.” Fitzroy told him and pulled his wrist out of him grasp.

“But that can’t be! Where is the ship I was on!” He panic and sat farther up to try and see over the side of the ship while sitting. So much for this kid being grateful he thought.

“I don’t know, there was wooden planks all in the water when we found you.” The boy’s blue eyes locked on Fitzroy’s bright green ones and Fitzroy notice that his eyes seemed bigger that normal.

“What’s your name?” Fitzroy asked quickly.

“Argonaut Keen.” He said.

“I looking over you Argonaut, get some rest.” Fitzroy said softly and gave Argo a small smile.

Exhaustion filled his eyes and Argo laid back down and his breathing grew slow.

“Has he said anything?” Captain Eden asked.

Fitzroy stood quickly, “He said his name is Argonaut Keen, that’s all I know.”

Before the Captain could respond another crew member came up.

“Sir, the Commendor said he hasn’t seen or heard any other ships in the area.”

And since Fitzroy was looking down at Argonaut he was the only one who saw him tense up at that comment.

Authors note:

Pirates of the Caribbean inspired

I hope y’all enjoyed let me know what you think.

#the adventure zone #taz graduation #the adventure zone graduation #sir fitzroy maplecourt #argo keene #argo keen #argonaut keene #fitzroy and argo #maplecourt #maplekeene

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snowbellewells · 4 years ago

Note

Ok. For the end of year asks. Don’t shoot me, but I want them all. If you don’t want to answer them all, just pick the ones you do.

Oh boy, Krystal @kmomof4, are you sure I’m really that interesting?!? Just for you though, I’ll answer them all. (Though, I skipped number one, because I had already answered it in a previous ask.)

2) What’s your least favourite thing you wrote this year?

Oh man, I don’t know quite how to answer this, because I don’t hate it or anything - in fact I got some really lovely and enthusastic feedback for the first chapter I posted. But picking a Music Man AU as one of my fics for the @captainswanmoviemarathon was something I should have given a bit more thought to.... It’s really daunting to write something that is it’s own unique thing and interesting in its own way, and yet still does justice to something you love that much and have seen so many times. The movie musical is perfection already and that makes it really hard for me to make much progress! ;p

3) Which of your fics was most different from what you usually write?

I mentioned this briefly in my answer to @captain-emmajones earlier for my favorite work this year, but my Sherlock Holmes Victorian-era AU “The Case of the Heart in Armor” would be up there as being pretty out of the norm for me. I think you even mentioned in your comments, Krystal that it was a darker venture for me. Other than that, your birthday one shot “Here in Our Time” would be the other really “different” one for me, because I made a genuine attempt at M-rated smut.

4) Which of your fics this year was most successful?

I should probably go back and double-check numbers to be completely sure, but I am pretty certain that my ghostly @cssns one shot “For Once, Don’t Let Go” was my most commented on, liked, reblogged fic this year. I chalk much of that up @hollyethecurious‘s gorgeous illustration with it and it begin part of such an awesome event. Still, I’m going paste the illustration on here for folks to see if they missed it, just because I love it and want to see it and celebrate it again:

5) Which of your fics do you wish was more successful?

In general I feel like the writings I have done this year have been pretty kindly noticed and commented on. I’m always flattered when anyone reads and responds to my work. I did get a kick out of my other @csjanuaryjoy submission “Adorable Old Man” and it didn’t seem to be one as many people saw, so I guess I’ll say that one.

6) What’s your favourite piece of dialogue you wrote this year?

There could be others that I’m just not remembering at present, but what popped into my mind was this lighthearted little bit of conversation in the most recent chapter of my @captainswanmoviemarathon fic “Do as the Romans Do”. I was happy with how it echoed a bit of Roman Holiday’s dialogue, but did it’s own think and blended humor, exasperation, and affection too:

“Blearily she found his gaze across the room, blinking as though to force herself fully awake, before she murmured quietly, her voice a husky, groggy purr, “It’s the oddest thing. I’ve never been alone with a man, even in my dress. Without my dress, it’s m-most unusual…” The slurry quality of her still half-slumbered words made him smile inspite of his discomfort. “But I don’t seem to mind. Do you?”

Killian felt a certain part of himself very distinctly minding her state of undress, and he was intensely glad for the blanket he had wrapped around himself. Yet, despite his checkered pedigree and past, and the rakish rogue he sometimes played with colleagues and friends, he did pride himself and make the effort to be a gentleman. Giving a small dip of his chin in a nod to her, one side of his mouth quirked up into a half-smile as he sardonically replied, “Don’t mind me, Love. As long as you’re comfortable. I only live here.”

Completely missing the wry sarcasm in his words and tone in her somnabulent state, she bobbed her head smartly in agreement and happily plopped back down on the pillow, curled up once again, and returned to her slumber.“

7) What’s your favourite piece of description or narration?

“The moonlight glittered off the dark waters of Storybrooke harbor, where the Jolly Roger was now permanently berthed. Pausing on the wooden planks of the dock, Emma gazed up at the ship, seeing her sailor standing on board, bathed in the ethereal glow and staring up at the stars overhead. His magnificent old ship had come to seem like her home too; she practically lived there with him for all intents and purposes.

Something warm swelled within her chest as Killian turned at the sound of her approach and smiled down at her in welcome. ...Holding out his hand to help her aboard, Emma thrilled at the gentle pressure of her pirate’s fingers wrapped around her smaller ones. As she reached his side on deck, she leaned into Killian’s sturdy frame while his arms encircled her and his spicy scent enveloped her senses, the rightness of the moment and them together and their place in their world - home at long last - could not be any clearer. Their port was set, wherever they might sail.”

From the last chapter of my @cssns19 wereworlf sequel “Face to Face in the Broad Daylight”, which didn’t conclude until February of this year, so hopefully it counts! (Many thanks once more to @branlovestowrite who did the gorgeous cover art for that one!)

8) Which fic this year was most fun to write?

I think I probably had the most fun writing my Sherlock Holmesian, Victorian AU. I got such a kick out of posting the different plot twists and cliffhangers and waiting for @kmomof4‘s reactions alone! And I seemed to gain several readers that didn’t usually follow my works as well! :)

9) If you could go back and change something about one of the fics you wrote this year, what would it be?

I don’t know exactly what pieces I would change without going back over and giving it a re-read, but I worried that my ghost @cssns20 one shot felt a bit rushed because I wrote and typed and edited and changed almost right up to midnight on my designated posting date and still wasn’t satisfied with it. I just felt like it could ahve been a little more coherent or fluid and I didn’t have time left to make it quite what I had envisioned. Other people didn’t seem to mind though. It’s always funny to me which stories seem to grab people’s interest or gain readers. I’m always grateful, but sometimes (often it fact) it isn’t the one I think it will be...

10) What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

I’m going to try to finish the all of the WIPs I have in progress. I have NEVER BEFORE, since I first began posting my fiction online, had so many pieces in progress at the same time. It worries me that people are waiting and my loss interest or patience and stop reading them. So I want to get all of those moving along and completed. I also just hope to produce more stories in general. So many ideas, and so little time! But if I would be less self-critical and really use my down time efficiently, I think I could get farther on my fic writing in 2021.

#year end writing asks #fic writing ask game #all the answers for @kmomof4 #snowbellewells answers asks

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

#3 with Sternclay? If you could, from Stern’s perspective? He’s one of my favorite characters and I love how you write him :)

Thanks, I love writing from his perspective! Prompt 3 was “Song” and went with SFW

Joseph Stern has more house than he knows what to do with. His father has given him this building on the coast of Virginia, no doubt in hopes of hiding his eccentric--and only remaining--son from polite society.

But the house may as well be a cave, a country full of strangers, a vast and cold space that Stern has no idea how to fill beyond the ghosts of the past it already contains. He has no lovers, no children, and the servants, used to his father’s temperament rather than his, give him a wide berth. And so he fills it with his books, his research into the strange and unusual, politely eats the meals the elderly cook prepares even though his eyesight seems to have given him the habit of mistaking one spice for another.

He’s also taken to having a nightly constitutional along the beach. It’s stormy and grey more often than not, but it suits his mood. Usually he’s perfectly alone. But tonight he must not be, because on the wind, he hears someone singing.

While the raging seas did roar

And the stormy winds they did blow,

And we jolly sailor boys was up, up aloft

And the landlubbers lying down below, below, below,

And the landlubbers lying down below.

It’s a rich baritone, longing and sad, and Stern wanders the beach up and down twice before he gives up on finding the singer. He resigns himself to it being a one time occurrence.

But the next night, the voice finds him again.

As we lay musing on our bed,

So early morn at ease,

We thought upon those lodging beds

Poor sailors have at sea.

This time he follows it through the second chorus of the song. And there, in the fading grey light of evening, a man is perched on an outcropping of rocks. He has shaggy hair, and even in the poor light Stern catches sight of copper within it. His beard is messy, and he’s bare-chested, a baffling choice in this weather.

As Stern makes his way across a nearby patch of rising tide, he loses his balance and splashes onto his knees.

By the time he looks up, the song is over and the man is gone, though he sees no sign of him upon the beach.

The third night, Stern is ready. He finds the outcropping, hiding himself down out of view of all but one side of the shore and sea.

Just as he’s starting to shiver and curse his poor judgement, a low, sweet humming begins. It’s the same melody, and he wants to dive into the voice, let it drown him if need be. The man hums a good portion of the song before his voice carries across the windy shore.

I'm sorry for my mother dear,

I'm lost in the salt, salt sea.

For last night, last night, the moon shone bright,

And you know that she had sons five,

Tonight she may look in the salt, salt waves

And find but one alive, alive,

And find but one alive.

The singing ceases, and in it’s place he hears a sigh. Cautiously, he sits so that the man can see him.

“That was wonderful.”

The man starts, turns to leave and Stern, in a moment of unusual impulsiveness, grabs his arm, “Wait, please, I just wanted...to..say…” He stares at the silver and blue tail that starts at the mans waist.

“Please let go.” The man says with the air of someone trying very hard to mask their panic with calm.

Stern drops his arm at once.

“I, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’ve heard you singing the last few nights and I wanted to see who you were, I meant to show myself right away but I got caught up in the song.”

Brown eyes narrow, “Is that all you want?”

“Yes. I’ll admit I also have a multitude of questions based on this new development.” He gestures to the tail, “but-”

A wave crests, drenching them both.

“Damn it.” He shivers.

The merman chuckles, “yeah, that’s why all sensible humans stay off these rocks.”

“I’m plenty sensible.” Stern mutters, shivers again. The merman seems to reach for a coat that isn’t there, then sets his hands on the stones.

“Come back at midday tomorrow if you really do want to talk.”

“Should I bring anything? Something for your trouble.?”

Calloused fingers drum on the rocks, “Cake? Or even just bread?”

“I can manage that.” He holds out his hand and the merman shakes it, then dives into the rolling sea without another word.

-------------------------------------

“Uh, I don’t mean to be rude but where the hell did you get this bread?” The merman, who introduced himself as Barclay when they met at the edge of the waves, looks down at the chunk of bread skeptically.

“My cook made it. I, um, am trying my hand at it as well. For perhaps obvious reasons.”

“I could teach you. Or at least tell you what to do so you could write it down.”

“How on--are there ovens underwater?”

“No” Barclay tosses the remaining bread to a waiting gull, “I remember from, well, from before.”

“You became merman rather than being born one?” He wants to press further, but the sorrow darting across Barclay’s face suggests that is unwise.

“The ship I was one went down. I...well, I tried to save people. According to one of the few other mers I know, if someone dies at sea while trying to do a selfless act, sometimes that’s enough for them to turn into mer. Not really clear on the mechanics beyond that.”

“Incredible.”

“Glad you think so.” Barclay’s expression is turning glum, and so Stern tries a different line of conversation.

“Are sea monsters real?”

Barclay chuckles, “Gonna ask about those instead of sunken wrecks laden with gold?”

“Those are far less interesting.”

“Kraken is real, sort of. There are some very large squid down there. Fish bigger than you can imagine, sharks too.”

“Say more.” Stern offers him the flash of tea he brought and Barclay eagerly accepts it.

“Well, some of them are harmless--are you writing this down?”

“Just for my own records. Please, keep going.”

And so pass their first few meetings, Stern electing to bring Barclay food from town after the first time, reveling in his delight at the meals. They eat and talk, Barclay eventually comfortable enough with Stern to come fully ashore. On warmer, sunny days they even lay side by side on their backs, and sometimes Barclay’s tail will brush or tap Sterns leg.

He doesn’t mind at all.

One day, after Barclay bemoans his inability to trim his beard to his liking (“water and sharp metal aren’t friends), Stern comes down to the water with his razor, soap, hand mirror, and brush, swearing that if he can successful keep himself clean shaven in the terrible mirrors in the house, he can trim Barclay’s beard without disaster. And so Barclay lays, tail in the surf and head in Sterns lap, as the man meticulously sets about his task.

When he’s done, Barclay sits up and looks into the hand mirror.

“That’s much better. You got some clever hands there, Joseph.” He grins and Stern tries to distract himself from the double meaning by brushing stray sand from his beard.

This backfires harder than a mis-built canon. Barclay rests his hand atop Sterns own, rubbing his cheek against his palm with a sigh.

“You take such good care of me, Joseph. God, if I weren’t as I am, I’d take such good care of you right back.” His free hand traces the line of Stern’s cheekbone, dips down to caress his jaw.

“You, you’ve been wonderful as well, I’ve learned so much, and it’s so nice to pass the time with you, even if you cannot follow me home or takeover the kitchen.”

“I could be even better to you, if you’d let me.”

“I will let you do whatever you want.” Stern shuts his eyes to better feel the touch of Barclay’s hands, “I will follow you like a beacon.”

The hands leave his skin. When he opens his eyes to search for the reason, Barclay’s tanned face has gone pale.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no it’s, I, just, you reminded me of something.” He pulls away from Stern, turning to face the sea. Stern doesn’t follow, although he aches to.

“Would you feel better if I left?” He asks softly.

Barclay shakes his head, “No, but I’ll feel better, in a way, if I say this. I told you I was in a shipwreck. That much is true. I told you I was a cook before, that was true as well. But what I didn’t tell you was that I was a cook one town over, for a family who was, well, they had more than enough money but that didn’t stop them from wanting more. So once a month, at the new moon, they’d go to the cliffs by the rockiest, most dangerous part of the coastline and hold up lanterns.”

“They were wreckers.”

A solemn nod, “When the ship was sunk, they’d go down the next morning and plunder the wreck. I never helped them, but I knew what they were doing long before I tried to stop it. Then one night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rowed out to the target, tried to tell them not to go towards those lights. They wouldn’t listen, held me prisoner thinking it was a trap. When she went down, just as the water covered my head, my legs twisted and changes into a tail and I could breathe beneath the waves. Making me the only man to make it off the Golden Willow alive.”

Stern gasps, covers his mouth in shock.

“The Golden Willow was the ship my brother was on when he died. A merchant, traveling with his stock.”

“I’m sorry.” Barclay’s eyes are wet, and Sterns turn that way as well as the mer dives into the sea, shame etched in his face.

-------------------------------------------

Call for boats, call for boats, my fair Plymouth boys,

Do you hear how the trumpets sound?

For the want of a long-boat in the ocean we're lost

And most of our merry men drowned.

“I don’t blame you, you know?” Stern stands in the sand, several books clutched to his chest.

Barclay doesn’t reply, but does turn to look at him.

“And, if I’m right, you think your being a merman is as much a curse for your inaction as it is a blessing for your attempt to save the ship and her men.”

A nod, accompanied by Barclay wiping a palm beneath his eye, “God, I miss so much. I, I’m glad I’m not dead, but I miss my kitchen, I miss the markets on summer mornings, food that isn’t fish.” He flicks his tail in frustration, “I miss sleeping in featherbed, not that I ever really got to being a cook and all, I miss my friends, my little sister, everyone.”

As he speaks, Stern hurries up the rocks to join him, guides him into his arms. He doesn’t cry, but he breathes heavily, holds tightly to the front of Stern’s coat.

“I looked through my library, did hours of research,” he inclines his head towards the books, “I found a few supposed means of transforming a merman into a human. I have no idea what is myth or anecdote and what, if anything, will work. But if you want to be human again, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Barclay whispers, and Stern continues holding him, face stinging with salt spray, and stroking the planes of his tail soothingly until the other man is ready to let go.

Over the next several weeks, they try every potion, prayer, and process Stern was able to find, all to no avail. They’re sitting, dejected, side by side on the sand, when Stern spots one recommendation he dismissed as the stuff of fairy-tales.

“I have something to try. Um, please close your eyes, because I have a feeling I’m about to look very silly.”

Barclay obliges. Stern cups his cheeks, kisses him soundly, certain this will be the only time he gets to do so, no matter how much he longs to do it each day.

Barclay chuckles, eyes still shut, “Was that really a suggestion, or just an excuse to-”

Then he groans, head falling forward to rest on Stern’s shoulder, his whole body convulsing. Stern watches in awe as his tail slowly shimmers and dissolves, leaving feet and legs in it’s place.

“Really? Really? That was the solution?” Stern giggles, “of all the nonsense I read, I didn’t think ‘kiss of a lover true’ was worth a second look.”

“Kiss of what now?” Barclay shakes his head to clear it with a woozy, yet knowing, smile.

“I, um, I-” Stern blushes, both from his admission and from spying that Barclay is now completely naked.

“Joseph” Barclay kisses his cheek and he melts into the sand, “you think that after all that talk of wanting to treat you well, I wouldn’t want you kissing me?”

“I didn’t want to presume.”

“You can presume whatever you want. Fuck, Joseph, I’m in love with you and you just gave me the one thing I thought I’d lost, you could ask anything and I’ll give it.”

“In that case, would you come home with me? Though we may want to get you some clothes first.”

“What? Not enjoying the view?” He rolls onto his back, and Stern gets a full glimpse of just how good a view it is before shielding his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.” He smiles, laughs when Barclays beard tickles his throat and his teeth nip his ear, “but I think it would be enjoyed even more in my nice, feather bed. Don’t you?”

#mermay fills #sternclay #agent stern/barclay

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alexandralyman · 5 years ago

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Beyond the Horizon - Ch. 44

Fic Update: Beyond the Horizon Summary: AU: When Princess Emma's ship is captured by the Jolly Roger and Captain Killian Jones, she offers herself as a hostage for ransom if he will let the ship and the other passengers go. With Emma, Killian remembers the honour he once held dear, and Emma catches glimpses of the gentleman Killian had been. Against all odds, the pirate and the princess begin to fall for each other.

Read this chapter on ff.net here

Chapter Forty Four Tell Me A Story

A foul stench hit him as soon as he entered his quarters and Killian stopped dead with one hand on the doorframe, his nose wrinkling in disgust while his belly twisted and lurched under his waistcoat. The smell was unmistakable, and revulsion was quickly replaced with concern as he rushed forward. Emma was bent over at the waist, retching into the porcelain basin that sat on the washstand with one hand braced alongside it and the other wrapped around her middle. He glanced down at the puddle of sick and bile quickly rose in his own throat, but as unpleasant as the smell and sight of it was, he was far more alarmed than repulsed.

"Easy, love, easy."

He laid a hand on her back, trying to offer what bit of comfort he could with his presence. It was hardly the first time Killian had witnessed someone vomiting from seasickness or spoiled rations, or, more frequently among sailors, from too much drink, and he knew there was nothing much that could be done for such afflictions except waiting for them to run their course. But Emma flinched under his touch, her shoulders hunching even more over the porcelain, and he swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth. His hand fell back to his side, opening and closing helplessly while she continued to empty the contents of her stomach. He had an inkling of what had made her so violently ill so suddenly, and it wasn't seasickness or an excess of grog.

The first time he'd been flogged he had borne the cut of the lash as stoically as he could in front of the jeering crew, knowing that his punishment would be made tenfold worse if he gave in to the fruitless urge to beg and plead for mercy in the midst of such unmerciful men. He had to take it like a man even though he was hardly more than a boy, lest he be branded with more than the marks carved into his back and he had, swallowing back his cries as each stroke fell and willing the tears not to fall along with them until the captain was finally satisfied that he'd had enough. Killian had felt empty afterwards, hollowed out as if a piece of his soul itself had gone missing and might not return. As painful as it was, he'd been strangely numb as well for hours on end, until he tried to eat the broth that Liam brought him and was immediately sick all over his poor brother as soon as he took a single spoonful.

Emma had sworn that she was fine, that his threats and taunts in front of the Evil Queen's men couldn't douse the flame of their love, but being paraded about on deck while he openly boasted about taking both her ship and her maidenhead by force had clearly sickened her right to her stomach.

"A pirate's always got to keep the best part of the treasure for himself, eh lads?"

That night was seared into his memory more indelibly than ink on parchment...the way her breath had hitched but her gaze hadn't faltered when he drew her nightdress slowly up her thighs with clear intent to have what he'd wanted for so long...stripping her fully bare at last and greedily drinking in every inch of fine white skin...her fear that it would hurt and his promise to be gentle, a promise kept because to do otherwise was unthinkable...the soft trail of her fingers down his back when he rolled his hips and she accepted the full length of him for the first time...drowning in the sensations and in a sea of words unsaid and almost confessing his deepest secret then and there, that he was hopelessly in love with her and would give her anything and everything she wanted if only she'd stay...

Killian had hated every word that had come out of his mouth on the deck and more than that, how easily it was to twist and turn what had happened between them on the Jolly Roger into a far more sordid and ugly tale, of a helpless lady caught in the rapacious clutches of a heartless brigand. Who would believe that she'd welcomed him into her bed, that what he wanted even more than the pleasures of her body was her heart? No, the tale he told was far more likely and it would spread as quickly as wildfire now that they'd made landfall. He'd wager that it would be halfway across the kingdom by sunset, carried from town to tavern in scandalized whispers and salacious grins.

"Did you hear about the princess and the pirate?"

She spat into the basin and staggered away, away from him, one hand still pressed just below the bodice of her gown while she wiped her mouth. That little voice in the back of his mind was back, chuckling darkly that her love was the one prize he could never try to take by force. It was hers and only hers to give as she saw fit and she could snatch it back from his unworthy hands at any moment.

"Nerves, I guess," she muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. "The waiting just got to be too much, I just...I just want this all to be over."

"Soon," he promised, ringed fingers flexing over the hilt of his sword and trying to quell that little bit of nagging doubt that her words could have another meaning.

His marriage proposal back on the fairy isle had been refused, after all.

The table was a cluttered mess, several books in a jumbled pile that was topped with a ball of wool that had a pair of knitting needles sticking out, the small chest where Emma kept hair ribbons and other feminine treasures sat open and had clearly been rifled through and wedged in between was the tray Fergus had brought earlier with the remains of the morning tea, along with an unfamiliar brown glass bottle that she pushed aside to lift the teapot and pour out what remained into the cup she preferred, the one painted with little pink rosebuds. She swished out her mouth while he retrieved her cloak from the peg on the wall.

"It's time," Killian said, draping it over her shoulders and fastening it at her throat. He carefully covered her hair with the hood, letting the deep folds mask her face. Another memory struck him then, of the day they'd first met. She'd been concealed by a cloak then too, hidden away until she'd thrown it off and her voice had rung out across the deck and drew the attention of all. Even then he'd known she was the real treasure, not the ship, not whatever cargo filled the hold, not even the priceless jewels that ringed her neck and could have retired his whole crew several times over. If they'd offered him anything else on board it would have been in vain, as soon as he caught sight of the beautiful woman staring back at him with such defiance, unbowed and unbent by what seemed like certain defeat, then all he wanted in that moment was her, with an ache a deep as the pull of the tides in his sailor's blood

"I will trade myself for their lives, Captain Jones."

"And who might you be?"

"I am Princess Emma, daughter of Queen Snow White and King David. Let the ship and my people go, and I offer myself as your hostage."

"Killian?"

Her pale face looked up at him as it had then, when he'd extended his hand to bring her aboard his ship. That day her hestiance and uncertainty about the man she'd made a deal with was plain, but she'd accepted his offering and the bargain between them had been sealed. This time, she was the one who reached out first, slim, delicate fingers wrapping around his thicker, calloused ones in the stillness of the cabin they now shared. Emma had traded herself to him and yet somehow she'd ended up with his heart, body and soul as her unintended prize as well. It was far from an even exchange, but Killian was still a pirate, he always got the better half of any deal. The Fairy Queen had warned with those strange, violet eyes that there was darkness in him and he swore at times he could literally feel it, heavy and leaden in his chest. What was a scarred and blackened heart like his to a princess like her?

Still, he hoped she would be gentle with it, just the same.

….

Regina's ships had guided them to a port not far from the castle that was Emma's childhood home, although none of her vessels had docked alongside the Jolly and stayed anchored out instead just beyond the mouth of the harbour. Blocking them in, Smee had noted in a low tone under his knitted cap, and Killian had agreed with a silent nod. The Evil Queen was taking no chances, it seemed, cutting off any last minute attempts to escape back out on the open sea. It was said that she was cunning, and Snow White's warning not to let his guard down around her was at the forefront of his mind when he'd steered them those last few leagues into the waiting net. The port itself was strangely deserted, when they went above deck there wasn't a soul to be seen even though the docks should be thick with people, fishermen bringing in the early morning catch, peddlers pushing barrows of oysters, longshoremen hauling cargo, alongside the pickpockets and whores who always flocked to the ships in search of likely marks and customers. But there wasn't so much as a single drunkard sleeping off a night of overindulgence and all the buildings lining the wharves were all shut up tight, even the taverns, shockingly enough, with drawn curtains and closed shutters as far as the eye could see. It appeared that everyone had either fled or gone to ground, battening the hatches and hunkering down as if preparing to ride out an incoming storm. But the waters were calm and the sky was clear straight out to the horizon so whatever it was the locals feared, it wasn't coming from the sea.

A lacquered black carriage that looked decidedly out of place next to the weathered timbers and sun-bleached planks was waiting for them when they disembarked, Killian's hand firm on Emma's elbow and his men flanking them on all sides. Several knights on horseback were positioned strategically around the carriage, heads turned to watch their approach. But these weren't the noble champions of Emma's tales, the ones Fergus begged to hear every chance he got. Their faces were completely hidden behind pitch-black masks that, coupled with their dark armour, made them look more like spectres conjured from a realm of nightmares than men. The Evil Queen's famed Black Knights, subject of far more lurid stories than the ones Emma told. Killian had heard a few of them over the years in smoky taverns, alongside tales of witches who ate children for their tea and rumours about the mysterious and powerful Dark One. It was said that Regina kept their hearts by her side in a jewelled casket like other queens collected gems, binding them to her with magic and ensuring their loyalty could never waver.

Slavery, of a different sort than the indentured servitude he and his brother had been sold into once upon a time.

One dismounted and pulled something from his saddlebag. It came loose with a metallic rattle and Killian saw it was a set of heavy iron manacles, two cuffs joined together by a thick chain. Beside him, he sensed more than saw Emma tense up under her cloak. The knight halted a few feet away and addressed them with the faintest dip of his chin, voice slightly muffled by the mask and completely devoid of emotion.

"Her most gracious and beloved majesty, Regina, undisputed Queen and Sovereign, welcomes you most warmly to her lands, Captain Killian Jones, and has sent us to escort you and the prisoner safely to her castle."

"Her castle?" Emma scoffed, and he tightened his fingers on her arm in silent warning. She said no more, but Killian could feel her fury, a rage that he shared when the knight stepped closer and lifted the manacles that were obviously meant for her wrists.

"And just what, pray tell, do you think you're doing?"

In one motion Killian was in front of Emma, his men fanning out protectively on either side of them and his hand on his sword. He didn't match the knight's indifferent tone, it came out with an edge that was as sharp as any blade and twice as dangerous. From behind him, Killian felt the faint touch of Emma's hand to his back while she peered at the knight over his shoulder, a tiny weight but enough to give him an anchor, something to ground him and keep his rising temper in check.

"Her Majesty has instructed that Princess Emma be brought to her in chains," the knight said, in that same flat unaffected monotone.

Emma gave a sharp inhale and pressed a little closer while Killian glared at the masked face, weighing his shrinking number of options. They had to maintain the ruse that she was nothing but a bargaining chip to him for as long as possible and why would he care if she was clapped in irons for the journey? The knights might be masked, but the clearly weren't blind. Any hint of softness from him would be seen as weakness and he couldn't afford to be weak, not now. He had to be the man they expected him to be, the hard, greedy pirate unwilling to relinquish any control over his valuable prize.

"Let me make one thing abundantly clear. The princess is my prisoner, not the Queen's, not until she has fulfilled our deal. For all I know those are enchanted to take her directly to the dungeon and my reward will be oh so conveniently forgotten by her most gracious and beloved Majesty. I'm a pirate, don't even attempt to double cross me. Try to shackle her and I will run you through where you stand."

The knight looked down at the manacles in his hands and while he might be heartless, Killian's own was beating madly under his waistcoat. In truth, he did fear there was some sort of hidden trick to the iron cuffs like the poisoned apple the Evil Queen had given to Snow White all those years ago, but that wasn't the main reason for his refusal.

He'd sworn to himself that no one would put Emma in chains, not as long as he still had breath in his body and he was damned if he was going to break that oath now.

"Your prisoner must be restrained for the journey to the Queen's castle, Captain," the knight insisted. "Her Majesty is not willing to risk any chance of escape."

Killian made a grand show of looking the knight up and down and then loudly counted off the ones waiting by the carriage. "You think a mere slip of a girl is capable of escaping so many of Her Majesty's finest? No wonder you're all too coward to show your faces. Put those damn things away, if it's so bloody important I'll restrain her myself and believe me, there will be no heroic attempts at an escape, not when I'm this close to getting my reward."

"You tell the bastard, Captain!"

"Damn right! You'll have to go through all of us first!"

Killian's men all started to chime in and faced with a seething pirate in front of him and an equally incensed crew who were all armed to the teeth and spoiling for a fight, the knight obviously decided that perhaps the Queen's orders could be amended just a tad. The manacles were put back in the saddlebag while Fergus was sent to fetch a length of rope from the ship. Killian took it from him and wrapped it around Emma's wrists, fingers making quick work of it even though he rarely did this himself anymore.

"There's no one who can tie a knot like a sailor can, it's the first thing you're taught when you join your first crew and board your first ship. Isn't that right, Fergus?"

Fergus's eyes widened a bit as he picked up on the meaning behind his captain's words and he nodded his agreement and said, "Aye, Captain!"

"My young crewman here learned his knots from the very best. Me."

Killian said it with a wink, looking straight into Emma's eyes as he finished tying the rope and let the tail end fall between her bound hands. The knot was a sturdy one, thick against her slim wrists, and it looked impossible to untie quickly.

But looks were deceiving.

It was a quick release knot, designed to come apart with nothing more than a single tug. The same knot that had once saved her from a terrible fate at the hands of a man who was now dead by Killian's hand, with nothing left of him but bones picked clean at the bottom of the ocean.

The first blood he'd drawn to keep her safe.

First, but not the last, and more was sure to be spilled before all was said and done.

With Emma suitably restrained by the rope, or so it seemed, he took her by the arm again and began leading her towards the carriage. The crew started to follow, but two of the knights immediately moved to cut them off with a flick of the reins, their large stallions whinnying a challenge and forming an imposing barrier between the wharves and the dock that led back to the safety of the Jolly.

"There was, in fact, a third order from the Queen that I'd neglected to mention, Captain. You and the princess are to be escorted to Her Majesty's castle alone. None of your men may accompany us, and that is not a condition that can be waived under any circumstances."

It came from the knight who'd been serving as spokesman, his hands folded placidly in front of him and that masked face blank and inscrutable. Killian paused, trading a quick glance with Emma. He'd planned to take several of the crew with them to the Evil Queen's castle to serve as backup, just in case, and this was a complication he hadn't anticipated.

"Captain?" Smee piped up from behind them, the concern clear in his voice. "Your orders, Sir?"

If he gave the command then they would fight, he had no doubt about that, but the knights held the high ground on them, looking down from their mounts with swords already half-drawn from their scabbards in anticipation. The dark armour covered them from head to toe, leaving almost nothing exposed, it would be difficult for a blade to make contact and draw blood. Still, his hand started to drift towards the hilt of his sword as he stared at the Queen's man.

The Queen.

She was the real enemy, not the faceless men who rode under her flag, and he smiled, showing his teeth in lieu of his sword. He'd have to forfeit this battle to win the war.

"A private parlay with Her Majesty then. Much more...intimate, that way, I suppose. Stand down men, and go back to the ship. We'll all get our reward soon enough."

Killian muttered the last more to himself than to them as the knights parted to let them through and the coachman swung down to open the door to the carriage. He bent stiffly at the waist and extended a hand to assist Emma inside, a hand she couldn't take with her own bound. Killian roughly shouldered the man aside and lifted her in himself, hands circling her waist. Before he followed he glanced back and saw they were all still watching and waiting on the dock, Smee's squat figure, Doyle's taller, broader one with one arm holding Fergus back, the boy warring with the man he would become. Keswick and Murray stood to the side, the leg Emma had healed for him showing no sign of the injury that had almost killed the sailor he'd taken to join his crew. Above them the Jolly Roger rose proudly against the clear blue sky, her sweeping lines and bold curves as beautiful as a woman's. His ship was much more than just a vessel, it was his home. A familiar tightness settled across his shoulders at the prospect of leaving her behind for an unknown length of time, while the sea was volatile and mercurial at times he knew it as intimately as a lover. The forest was something else entirely and all he had to guide him now wasn't a sextant and the stars above, there was only a handful of half-forgotten memories from his childhood.

And Emma.

"The Jolly is yours, Mr. Smee. Keep her safe for me until I return."

He swung himself up into the carriage and the door closed behind him, followed almost immediately by the soft click of a lock being turned. There was a crack of a whip a moment later and he flinched at the sound for the first time in years, while the carriage started to roll forward with a jolt that forced them both back into the bench seat in a tangled heap.

"Bad form," Killian swore, trying to find a comfortable position for his legs. The carriage was elegantly appointed with silk-padded walls and thick velvet upholstery, but it was still a tight fit and their knees jostleted when he turned to Emma and pushed the hood back so he could see her face properly. He couldn't be sure if the coachman could hear them or not so he only dared to whisper, "You alright?"

She still looked too pale to his eye, no roses blooming in her cheeks when he brushed his thumbs over them and her lips thin and bloodless. Her eyes fluttered shut and he held his breath, thinking she was going to be sick again all over the Queen's finery, but after a moment they opened again and she nodded. Since the curtains were drawn and no one could see in he twisted in the seat and pulled her onto his lap, leaning back so she could rest her head comfortably against his shoulder. The carriage rumbled underneath them and from the outside came the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves against the cobblestones, dampened somewhat by the silk hangings. After some time the timbre of it changed and Emma straightened up, listening intently for a moment.

"We've turned onto the forest road," she said.

Killian pulled back the drape and peered out of the little window. It was rounded like a porthole, but the docks and the sea were both long gone. All he could see at first was a moving wall of green and he blinked a few times, his eyes finally focusing enough to make out that the "wall" was actually trees, growing so thick that there was hardly any space between them and so tall that even with craning his neck back he couldn't make out the tops. Cobblestone streets had given way to hard-packed dirt underneath, a long brown ribbon that would through the dense thicket like a narrow strait. Emma was also looking out of the window on the other side and he slid across the bench, letting his cheek brush hers as he glanced out as well. The view was practically the same, nothing but trees and brush to be seen as they bumped along. There were ancient oaks twice the width of the Jolly's main mast and new saplings as slender as reeds, while scattered throughout was the occasional fat stump. They passed by one that looked old and weathered, grey moss clinging feebly to the side and the top deeply cracked with age. It was clearly long dead, but a bit of life remained in the form of tiny yellow flowers that grew from the split in the wood.

"My parents met on this road."

She lifted her hands and touched a fingertip to the glass, a hint of wistfulness in her voice.

"Did they?" he asked. "Tell me the tale then, Princess."

Killian kept his own tone deliberately bored and indifferent just in case the coachmen could hear. Let him think the pirate was simply casting about for a way to pass the time on the way to the Evil Queen's castle and nothing more. But he already knew this tale and he knew it was Emma's favourite, the telling of it would be her anchor, to steady her against what lay ahead.

"Once upon a time there was a handsome prince, and one day he went for a carriage ride through the forest while carrying his most prized possession, his beloved mother's wedding ring. She had told him that True Love followed the ring wherever it went, and he planned to gift it to his betrothed, the princess he was expected to marry. But a bandit lurked in the woods, watching the road in hopes of valuables to steal, and unknown to the prince the bandit was hidden in the trees above as his carriage went by, waiting for just the right moment to strike..."

Her voice washed over him like the roll of the tides as she recounted the story, a siren's song rendered in prose instead of verse that drew him in and he could picture it all so clearly. A cloaked figure high in the trees, watching, and waiting. The young prince, promised to a woman he did not love but was honour-bound to wed. Their paths crossing on this very road in a chance meeting that changed them both forever.

"...the dust from a Dark Fairy, powerful magic…"

"...a trick, of the Evil Queen's magic mirror…"

"...and it was with the magic of True Love's Kiss that Prince Charming awakened Snow White from her death-like slumber…"

Magic

It infused the tale right from the beginning but it hadn't ended there, with the defeat and banishment of the Evil Queen and the Happy Ending for the kingdom at last. Magic had sent Emma across his path, altering his course in more ways that just the change to the Jolly's heading when he first spotted her ship in the distance. Magic had sparked between them, in that first look, that first touch. Magic had flowed from her, healing injuries and defeating enemies in astonishing displays of power that many unscrupulous souls would kill to possess and control for their own. Magic filled the carriage now like the wind filling the sails, propelling them ever forward on their own tale, when a pirate who thought his heart had been lost forever fell in love with a princess and vowed to take her home. Maybe it wasn't the equal of such grand heroics that had enthralled entire kingdoms and the realms beyond, but it was theirs.

Killian held onto that thought, as the shadows lengthened and the light began to wane while the forest only grew thicker, turning deeper and darker around them as the ocean did far from the safety of shore.

They came to a halt shortly before sunset, the castle was too far from the coast to make the journey in an afternoon. The carriage door opened to reveal they'd stopped at a rather tumbledown cottage instead of a village or a roadside inn, and the knights had dismounted and were already at work gathering wood for a fire and hauling up water from the well. Half-forgotten memories of another humble cottage, another life, started to surface and he quickly tamped them back down while he kept a firm hand on his prisoner and lifted Emma down from the carriage. She shook the wrinkles from her gown and cloak as best she could with her hands still bound, while he kicked the dust from his boots and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the long hours of confinement and taking surreptitious stock of their surroundings. The cottage was clearly abandoned and had been for some time, the garden was overgrown with weeds and one side of the fence had collapsed. The thatched roof was in desperate need of patching and tools had been left to dull and rust out in the elements. It looked like whoever had lived here had left in a hurry, had they fled when Regina seized power over the kingdom, taking only what they could carry and disappearing into the woods?

The Fairy Queen's warning of a dark curse threatening the land whispered in the back of his mind and his hand drifted closer to the hilt of his sword.

Provisions were produced by the knights from another saddlebag, dark bread, cured meat, hard cheese, and a handful of shiny red apples.

Apples.

"And the Queen offered Snow White an apple red as blood, and a choice. She could save herself, or save the man she loved."

Emma visibly blanched at the sight of them, turning away while Killian asked in an arch tone, "Her Majesty's gracious hospitality, I take it? How are any of you even going to eat with those things over your mouths, anyway?"

There was no reply to either question from the knight, still hidden away behind his mask, but it was clearly meant as a pointed message from the Queen as they drew closer and closer to her stronghold. He left the apples untouched and took the rest, guiding Emma to sit on a fallen log and laying the food out on his knee. She refused it all with a haughty lift of her chin, turning her head away to stare up at a fat bluebird perched in a nearby tree instead. He washed down the meal with rum from his flask, old experience had taught him to eat whenever he could, since food might be scarce later. The bird whistled, trilling a jaunty song that filled the air until it finally flew away in a rustle of tiny wings when the sky turned indigo and the sun was almost set. Before there was any mention of sleeping arrangements for the night Killian took matters into his own hands, hefting Emma bodily into his arms without warning while she let out a squeak of surprise and struggled instinctively against him. The door to the cottage gave way under one swift kick from his boot and he carried her over the threshold, leaving the knights and the coachman outside with a tart comment that he didn't desire an audience. Thankfully the door had a thick iron bolt on the inside and after being locked up in the carriage by the Queen's men he too grim pleasure in locking them out instead.

"I'm sorry, my love, that this was necessary."

He whispered it in her ear and tugged off her bonds, letting the rope fall to the floor. He'd left it as loose around her wrists as he dared but a few marks had appeared anyway, where it had chafed and scraped against the delicate skin and he cursed himself for not having Fergus fetch the salve. There was clearly nothing similar left in the cottage, it was comprised of a single room, dusty and sparse, with a few sticks of furniture, a table, a low stool, and a bed in the corner that had been stripped down to nothing but the straw tick. Shelves stood empty and there was no logs left in the hearth to start a fire, just some cold ashes, but a stub of a candle sat on the table. Before darkness enveloped them completely Killian pulled out a flint and striker to light it. His fingers kept slipping and it refused to catch, frustration boiling in his gut more and more with each failed attempt.

If he couldn't even light a bloody candle, then how in the hell was he going to stop the Evil Queen if Emma faltered? What good was a lone pirate so far from the sea, with nothing but a sword and a sharp tongue in the midst of this clash of magical queens?

He was on the verge of throwing flint, striker and the table against the wall in a fit of rage when a small hand settled lightly on his wrist, stilling his movements. Emma closed her eyes and her face creased in concentration while she made a cupping motion with her other hand, over the nearly flattened wick. Killian scarcely dared to breathe, feeling the air around them change. The flare of the candle springing to life was echoed under his skin, prickling like gooseflesh and making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Magic. All it took was a single spark from her fingers and a tiny bit of light and warmth bloomed, but it was enough to chase away the darkness.

Long before he was a pirate, or even a sailor, he'd been a small boy who was terribly afraid of the dark.

The silence was broken by a faint growling sound that he was also more than familiar with from the darker days of his childhood, of which there were many, only it wasn't coming from him this time. Unlike the way everything else was going, he could do something about this and he went searching through the deep pockets of his coat for the hardtack he'd tucked away before leaving the Jolly. It was still wrapped securely in a handkerchief, none the worse for wear after the journey, and he broke off a piece and handed it to Emma with a stern look.

"You need to eat something."

He also had some boiled sweets left from their last sojourn in port, a particular weakness of hers, but he thought the more bland biscuit had less chance of upsetting her stomach again.

"Is that an order, Captain?" she asked.

There was a glimmer of amusement on her face in the yellow candlelight as they shared what had started out as haughty defiance and mellowed over time into a private jest between them.

"Aye, Princess," he answered, firm and unyielding at first. Then he lifted her hand and pressed a feather-light kiss to the inside of her wrist. "For me?" he added, knowing she wouldn't refuse him if he phrased it like that. A pirate wasn't above playing dirty to get what he wanted, and right now he wanted Emma to keep her strength up. Once she gave in and started nibbling at it he laid his coat aside and unbuckled his sword, making sure to leave it within reach, just in case.

They didn't talk much after that, each lost in their own thoughts as the candle burned down and shadows flickered on the dusty walls. Killian imagined all sorts of things in the twisting shapes, noble princes and devious kings, royal castles and proud ships, fairy queens and evil queens each with their own conflicting agendas centred around the woman he loved more than anything, his queen. One wanted a sacrifice to her vengeance, the other a saviour for the realm, two destinies that had been laid out long before she'd even been born and the same path had led to both ends, but whose desire would ultimately prevail?

The shadows all gradually merged into one and his silent question was left unanswered.

At some point during the night they turned to each other with the same wordless need, bedded down on the lumpy straw tick with Emma's cloak serving as a makeshift blanket. Lips met frantically in the dark, the candle had long gone out but the fire within was burning hotter than any flame and a groan rumbled deep in his chest as he rolled half on top of her and captured her wrists again, thumbs pressed to her fluttering pulse and his hips nudging hers with clear intent.

"Mine!" he practically growled in her ear, nipping the lobe between his teeth and relishing the way her head tipped back to give him more access to the long column of her throat, letting him nuzzle along the length of it. The delicate line of her collarbone was the perfect match to the sharp line of his jaw, her soft, rose-petal skin meeting the prickly thorns of his whiskers as his exhale was echoed by her inhale, rising as he fell, falling as he rose, the swell of her breasts pressed against his chest and her skirts tangled around his legs like a net.

He'd captured her, but he was caught fast in return.

With the enemy so close at hand they hadn't risked undressing, he was still in his trousers and shirt and she had only loosened the laces of her gown before they'd laid down for the night. Killian went up on his knees, letting go of Emma's hands to wrench open his leathers and shove them down to mid-thigh, freeing himself from the confinement and letting out a hiss as the cooler air touched his heated flesh. He was already hard and aching and more than ready to claim his royal prize. Her skirts were quickly bunched to her waist and he felt her legs fall open on either side of him in what seemed like a lady's hopeless surrender to a pirate's unbridled lust. There was some fumbling in the dark and then his hips were positioned square between her thighs, a mere heartbeat away from satisfaction.

It wasn't the gentle and tender lovemaking of courtly romance, nor was it the violent ravishment the Queen's men undoubtedly imagined was taking place. Emma was slippery with want and the hands that clutched his shoulders pulled him closer instead of pushing him away when he found home in a single, deep thrust. A low curse tumbled from his lips as she accepted the full length of him, a sensation that never failed to arouse him even more and the burn in his belly was at a near fever pitch. Far from surrendering, she had clasped him tight in her silken bondange and he went willingly, plunging deep with every stroke. There was a pounding in his ears like the roar of the absent tides, drowning out everything except the join of his body to hers. This was their story, their tale, writ between them in the fierce embrace and wordless cries while the rest of the world was held at bay outside the locked door. Let them all see him as nothing but a pirate, they could believe the falsehoods, the deception, embellish the details or tell it completely wrong, nothing else mattered than what had been sworn by solemn oath and pledged on the very blade that guarded them now.

"Emma," he gasped, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Her gown had slipped further down her shoulder and her legs tightened around his hips, holding him in place while he pinned her to the bed and took his pleasure. Killian knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he managed to hold off until he felt her shudder under him and the dig of her nails even through his shirt, marks he'd gladly bear. Only then did he give in, spilling hot with one final thrust and even though the ground beneath them was flat and unmoving, he could still feel the rock of the distant ocean waves in her arms. Sea legs, he'd told her once.

The captain's bunk on the Jolly was narrow, built only for one. The bedframe was much wider, with room to spare, but they stayed in a tangle of limbs as if they were still on the ship with her head finding his shoulder in the dark and her hand laid on his chest, burrowing under his half-unbuttoned shirt to rest on the bare skin underneath instead. Emma's breathing changed as she fell asleep and her hold on him went slack, letting his thoughts drift from drowsy satisfaction into more troubled waters again. While he was glad that she was managing to find some rest, along with a not insignificant amount of male pride, slumber eluded him as unwanted pieces of the past kept clutching at his sleeve with icy fingers that refused to be pried away and sent back where they belonged, into the deep alongside the men who had died by his blade.

Emma knew pieces of his story, from the day he'd first haltingly told her about his brother and spoke Liam's name aloud for the first time in longer than Killian could remember.

"Once upon a time there had been two brothers, as close as any could be, seeking glory and adventure together on a secret mission from their king…"

He'd told her the tale of Liam's death and how he'd turned from naval lieutenant to lawless pirate and became captain of a ship he renamed the Jolly Roger, a tale of loss and betrayal and revenge. But that was the middle, not the beginning, and his story had really begun years prior just as Emma's started with a chance meeting on a forest road. For the first time in a long time Killian let himself go further back, before Neverland, before the brothers Jones had set off together on the Jewel of the Realm and only one came back, not shying away from the memories surfacing back up from the depths of his mind.

"Once upon a time there had been a father with two small sons, boarding a ship for what he promised was a new start in a new land for all of them…"

"Once upon a time there had been a family of four, poor but proud, and happy, so happy…"

And then it would come to that part, as it always did in his tales.

...until

….

...

He always sensed when water was near, like most sailors who had more saltwater in their veins than blood and told time by the movement of the tides. Killian looked out of the carriage window and caught a glimpse of what looked like the sea on first glance, making him start in surprise. He quickly realized that it was actually a lake, a large one and clearly deep, with water the same rich shade of blue as the sea diamond. Above it, a castle rose like a ship that had set permanent anchor, grey stone walls serving as the weathered hull, tall spires in place of masts piercing the sky and flags snapping taut in the wind. They were further inland than Killian had been in years and yet he'd found sea and shore both at the place his princess called home.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt that jolted them both forward again and the coachman opened the door to his black scowl as he unfolded himself and climbed out, turning to lift Emma down and keeping one hand on her back and the other on the hilt of his sword once she'd found her footing. She was the demure prisoner one more, quiet and biddable with her hands bound in front of her as per the Queen's command. Or as much of the Queen's command as he was willing to follow. The expected audience for their little show was absent, however, as there was no one in the empty courtyard to meet them and the knights swiftly departed without a word, accompanying the now empty carriage back through the gate at a swift clip and leaving the two of them alone.

"Not much for long, drawn out farewells then," Killian said with a shake of his head. In truth, he'd found the Black Knights more unsettling then he'd let on, with their flat, emotionless voices and identical masks that concealed any hint of the men underneath. For all the times in his life that he'd been accused of being heartless, to be forced to exist without one's heart as little more than a puppet to an absent master pulling the strings was a fate he wouldn't wish on any enemy.

He turned, trying to shrug off his disquiet as he swept his gaze over the narrow windows and scanned the empty parapets above, seeing no guards on watchful duty or curious servants attempting to sneak a peek from behind a curtain. Did the Evil Queen expect them to just cool their heels outside like beggars at her gate until she deigned to receive them? But just as he was about to bang on the doors and demand entrance they opened, seemingly of their own volition in a sudden gust of wind that raked through his hair like a lover's touch and lingered a moment too long inside his collar.

Not wind.

Magic.

As magic infused the famous tale of Snow White and her Prince Charming, it also permeated their castle and when they crossed the threshold into the entryway the doors closed behind them with no one on the other side and a heavy looking beam immediately slid across to bar both entry and escape. Emma's magic was light and warmth, as delicate and effervescent as champagne bubbles. The feeling in the air now was heavy, oppressive, cold and clammy against his skin like sailing through a bank of fog and Killian almost expected to see his breath when he exhaled. It was shadowed and dim inside the castle, the windows were heavily draped against the daylight outside and still nobody appeared to guide them to wherever the Evil Queen was obviously enconsed somewhere within.

"Now what?" he bit out, and as if in response another door swung open in a squeal of hinges to reveal a deep corridor. They both turned towards the sound, expecting someone, anyone, but there was only darkness and silence.

"Where does it lead?" he asked Emma.

"The Great Hall," she answered, a deep furrow between her brows. If even he could sense the Dark Magic in the air, then what was she feeling? He couldn't ask, not when they were clearly being observed, somehow. The pretense had to be maintained for a while longer.

He kept one hand firm on his sword as they proceeded down the long gallery, lit by torches that flared to life as they approached and died as soon as they passed, illuminating only the few steps in front and a sliver of the stone walls on either side. They were hung thick with rich tapestries and fine paintings but almost all of them were in a ruin. The finely woven scenes had been defaced with jagged slashes that had torn them almost in half in parts and there was what looked like burn marks on the portraits, the subjects scorched beyond recognition. Or almost, Killian recognized the distinctive hilt of the sword King David had wielded during their spar on the Jolly hanging from the waist of a now headless man in a red jacket, and Queen Snow White's coal-dark hair on a woman whose face was nothing but a melted blob of pigment that ran down an elaborate feathered gown. The amount of sheer, unbridled ragethat had gone into the destruction was palpable and it was obvious the Queen had staged this all because she wanted Emma to see it. She'd sent chains to bind Snow White's daughter, apples to taunt her, and now she'd forced her to walk a gauntlet of everything she knew and loved torn literally to shreds at her feet.

Emma stared straight ahead throughout their long walk, her head held high with that regal, unbowed posture he'd observed in her right from the beginning. As delicate and fragile as she looked, she was made of sterner stuff than the Queen knew and her pace never faltered at his side.

The gallery eventually opened up into a cavernous space that was undoubtedly the Great Hall, site of many a royal ball and banquet from Emma's tales. But there were no lords and ladies come to make merry and pay court, the vast chamber was nearly empty save for a tall mirror set in the middle of the room, a large rectangle of costly glass in an ornate frame. The mirror was flanked by two torches, the only source of light, and Killian could see their reflections in it, two small figures, one dark, one fair, growing larger and larger with each step. They seemed to ripple and undulate with their approach, as if he was looking into water instead of glass.

A feminine voice that was laced with amusement suddenly chimed in from behind them.

"Sorry I'm late."

The mirror reflected a swirl of purple smoke and they both whirled around, Killian drawing his sword on instinct and pointing it at the woman who stepped out of the cloud as easily as if she'd just stepped through an open door. She had raven hair that was piled up high above her forehead, revealing a face that was heavy with cosmetics. Lashes thick as feathers under dark arched brows, cheeks slashed with rouge and crimson lips curled in a smirk. Gems almost the size of plums hung from her ears and she wore a narrow gown that clung to her like a glove, lavishly trimmed in black lace. The effect was both severe and seductive, she was far younger than the aged crone Killian had expected and in truth, she couldn't actually be all that much older than her former stepdaughter, Snow White.

"Regina," Emma breathed beside him, sounding as startled by the sight of the famed Evil Queen herself in the flesh as he felt.

One arched brow quirked even more and displeasure was clear in her tone when she replied, "That's a bit informal, don't you think? I prefer Your Majesty."

She glided towards them and Killian tensed, his sabre held in a defensive position that seemed to turn her annoyance back into amusement when her gaze flicked down to it.

"Come now, Captain Jones, there's no need for weapons here. We are allies, after all."

He found himself grasping empty air, with a flick of her wrist the sword disappeared and his arm dropped at the sudden loss of weight. Emma's eyes went wide with shock and the Queen chuckled, moving past them with that unhurried, languid stride. Another wave of her hand made a sideboard appear next to the mirror, with a crystal decanter and two goblets set on top. He maneuvered himself in front of Emma while the Queen's back was turned, confused that she seemed to be scarcely paying them any mind as she poured out ruby red wine. She picked up both goblets and held one out to him in her slim hand, her long, pointed nails varnished nearly black.

"A toast," she trilled. "To commemorate this long awaited victory. For the both of us, I hope."

Killian wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but he accepted the drink and tapped his cup against hers, nothing the way her dark eyes roamed over him from head to toe with a calculating look before she took a sip. The goblets were solid gold, studded all over with jewels and had to be worth as much as a small ship apiece. Under any other circumstances he would have tried to nick one when she wasn't looking, but now was not the time for a spot of petty thievery. Something was definitely amiss, the Queen had barely spared Emma more than that single glance when she'd addressed her by her given name, an odd reaction given the lengths she'd gone to find her. He silently cursed that she'd taken his sword, he could have run her right through himself before she finished her wine and been done with it once and for all.

Better the blood be on his hands than Emma's, anyway.

But with no blade he could do nothing except play the role the Queen expected, so he put on his own smirk and rolled the stem of the goblet between his fingers. "Thank you, Your Majesty. Normally I prefer spirits to wine, but that was an excellent vintage."

"Spirits?" she repeated, her voice taking on a new, playful inflection. "What is it that pirates are said to drink? Rum, if I'm not mistaken."

"Aye."

The decanter was joined on the sideboard by a smoky glass bottle and his goblet turned into a tumbler more suited for drinking liquor instead of wine. It was done in barely a blink, she seemed to wield magic as effortlessly as breathing and it only made him more wary.

"Help yourself," she offered. "Ordinarily my valet would be here to serve, but, well, that position has been vacant for some time now."

She glanced away for a moment, her gaze cast towards the floor and fingers smoothing a non-existent wrinkle from her gown while out of the corner of his eye Killian thought he saw a faint glow coming from between Emma's hands, still wrapped in the rope. The plan had been for him to get them close enough so she could quickly stun the Queen with magic, enough to render her unconscious. Then she would be taken immediately to the dungeon, where a cage that had once held the Dark One himself would bind her power and keep her from escaping. Everything hinged on the element of surprise, to catch her unaware before she could retaliate and the perfect opportunity had just presented itself. He flicked his gaze between them, trying to signal without words for Emma to strike and to strike now.

But the glow faded away instead, her magic turning mercurial again at the worst possible moment and she shot him a helpless look while he cursed silently inside his head. This was what he'd feared the most, that she wasn't yet ready to take on the Queen and he'd brought her straight into the viper's nest with no chance of escape. All he could do now was try to buy her some more time, so he made a show of swaggering over to fill his new cup and keep the Queen's attention on him, away from Emma.

"Will you join me for a tipple?" he asked, lifting the bottle with one finger through the handle and letting it swing back and forth. "Savour the victory some more?

"While I intend to savour this victory to the fullest, Captain, I don't do rum. No offense."

"None taken," he replied with a shrug. "More for me then."

Instead of pouring the rum into the glass, Killian tossed it over his shoulder and lifted the bottle to his lips instead. He took a healthy swig, feeling the all too familiar burn of the liquor in the back of his throat but far from savouring it, he barely tasted anything at all. He did note the close way the Queen was observing him with her head tilted slightly to the side and a familiar smile playing at the edge of her vermillion lips. He could play this game and play it very well, so he rolled his tongue over his teeth and returned her grin.

"Delicious," he said, slowly drawing out the word.

"Flavoured with just a hint of apple. Did you know that it can take up to ten years for an apple tree to finally bear fruit after planting?"

It would be an innocuous statement from anyone except Snow White's stepmother. She continued on, her gaze locked on his and her voice dripping with insinuation. "Ten years...can you imagine sinking in your teeth for that first bite, after waiting so long for satisfaction? To finally have what you've been denied for so many years at long last. Wouldn't you agree?"

He pretended to mull it over for a moment before giving a careless shrug. "I suppose so."

"I thought you would."

Despite his easy posture his nerves were drawn tight as a bowstring, wondering if what he feared was correct and she intended to repeat history with another poisoned apple. Would his own kiss be enough to wake Emma if she fell into the same death-like sleep her mother had? He loved her more than anything, but only the power of True Love's Kiss would break that curse, the rarest magic of all, and tendrils of doubt started to curl around his heart.

His momentary lapse in focus was enough to lose the Queen's interest as she focused back on Emma while her silky voice took on a more dangerous edge.

"Tell me, little princess, do you know the truth of what your mother did to me? Or did she finally learn to keep a damn secret in the end and weaned you instead on those silly tales for children, that I was nothing but vain and jealous of her beauty?"

Each word made the air between them crackle like the lash of a whip, but while she might be unable to summon her magic, Emma was still the woman who had faced him down at his worst without it and she did the same to the Evil Queen herself, meeting her fury head on.

"She told me that the man you loved died, and in your grief you turned to dark magic in search of revenge."

"Died?" the Queen shrieked, her regal composure clearly starting to crack. "Died?" He was murdered! His heart was ripped out and crushed before my eyes, and it was all because of her! She swore she wouldn't tell and as soon as my back was turned she broke her promise like it was nothing. Like he was nothing, when he was everything to me!"

Snow White had also told him in confidence about the Queen's lover, a man of low birth with whom she'd tried to run away before her marriage to the king. Omitted from all the tales, few even knew about his existence and the real reason for her descent into villainy and vengeance.

"We were happy...but that spoiled brat just had to have her own way, didn't she? The great hero, Snow White, champion of the people...she stole that happiness away from me. She was a sneaky little thief long before she was a bandit, and somehow I was the one who was called evil for thinking she should be punished for it."

She drew herself up to her full height with her magic at the ready and gowned in dark splendor, painted and jewelled, he saw nothing but the Evil Queen of tale in all her terrible glory.

"Any last words before I punish you in her stead, Princess Emma?"

"I'm sorry, Regina. I know you probably don't believe that, but I truly am."

The simple apology made her stiffen, freezing her in place. "You're sorry," she repeated, her lips twisted in a sneer. "Snow White's daughter is sorry. She said that too, that she was sorry. How nice. Only sorry doesn't bring back the dead."

"No," Emma agreed, perfectly calm in the eye of the gathering storm. "It doesn't. And whatever it is you're planning to do to me won't bring him back either."

"Oh, but it will make me very happy."

Emma's voice echoed slightly in the large, empty chamber. "Are you happy now, Your Majesty?"

When the Queen didn't reply she pressed on. "You won. This is your great victory at last. You hold the keys to the kingdom and everyone bows to you, the castle is yours and my parents are...my parents are gone. You got everything you wanted in the end and did any of it make you really, truly happy? Was any of it enough?"

Killian could tell from the furious look on her face that Emma had struck a nerve, just as she'd done when she'd thrown his own words back in his face and, like then, she did it without any regard for her own safety. A ball of flame suddenly appeared in the Queen's palm.

"Let's find out," she snarled, and before all hell could break loose he stepped between them.

"Now, now," he chided with a click of his tongue, putting two fingers carefully on her wrist and pushing her hand to the side. "They'll be no damaging the goods, at least not until I get what was promised to me. We had a deal, you and I, remember?"

For a moment he thought her fury would turn on him instead, but after a long moment she gave a clipped nod and pursed her lips to blow the flame out instead. Relief flooded through him, more welcome than the rum.

"How could I forget. Of course, you want your reward."

The coquette was back again, her sneer turning to a simper while she reached out a hand to toy with the lapel of his coat, running a finger along it until her arm was draped over his shoulder and those painted lips pressed to his ear.

"But first, tell me something. Did you enjoy her, Captain?"

Far from a discreet whisper, it was said loudly enough for Emma to hear and she stared back at them, mouth turning to a thin line and a crimson flush rising at once on her pale cheeks. The Queen's breath was warm against his skin but all Killian could feel was ice in the pit of his stomach.

"Aye," he answered, trying his best to sound indifferent. "She was my prize and it was my right as captain. Besides, I'd never had a princess before and you can hardly blame a man for wanting to crown himself king for a night...or several."

"That's what I thought," she murmured, clearly pleased with the callousness of his answer. She tipped her head back and laughed with one hand resting lightly on his chest.

"A far cry from that insipid, so-called "True Love" your mother and father share, or shared, I should say, wasn't it, little princess? You know what? You're right, none of my victories made me happy, but I'm going to change all that and making you suffer day after endless day, now that's just what I need to make up for having the satisfaction of getting to watch Snow White die taken from me."

Emma's eyes were bright with unshed tears in the torchlight, shimmering like gemstones. Magic be damned, if the Queen hadn't taken his sword he would have it at her throat by now to show her just how dangerous it was to goad a pirate and insult his lady.

"I have a proposition for you."

She pulled back and went to pour herself more wine while he fought madly to control his temper. When this was finally over he'd go down on his knees and beg Emma's forgiveness, be the man she loved again, the man he'd wanted to be ever since that spark had ignited between them, and not this cruel imitation who gave the Queen a knowing look and a lascivious smirk at her suggestive offer.

"Oh? And just what exactly are you proposing?"

"Something for our mutual benefit, I assure you. Let me tell you a story, almost twenty years ago I'd planned to enact a curse, one that would take everyone in the kingdom to a new land, a faraway realm where the name Snow White would be forgotten at last and I could finally find the happiness that eluded me here."

A curse.

The curse that Emma's parents had feared for all these years and the Fairy Queen had warned against, the one that was supposed to take away all the happy endings. The curse that the Dark One had prophecy had said Emma would break...on her twenty-eighth birthday, still almost a decade away.

"Think of it," she said, soft and enticing. "A new land full of undiscovered treasures just waiting for a man like you to find them."

"Plenty of undiscovered treasures still left here," he countered, wondering why it sounded like she was trying to convince him of the merits of this new land.

"Ah," the Queen conceded with a dip of her chin. "True, however even with my signature on a royal charter naming you my subject and giving assent for your activities, you will always been seen as nothing more than a lowly pirate. I know a little bit about that, you see, they call me Queen but I will always be the interloper, the usurper, the one who stole Snow White's rightful crown. Much as we may wish to, we can't escape our pasts."

Deserter. Turncoat. Pirate.

Every eiptath that had ever been thrown at him whispered again in Killian's ear, inescapable even aboard his own ship thanks to the open contempt of Lieutenant Courtice. More were also sure to come, now that he'd freely boasted of bedding and deflowering the beloved princess of the realm.

Debaucher.

Defiler.

It took him a moment to focus back on the Queen, still talking between sips of her wine. "I found it curious that you didn't ask for the reward I offered for Princess Emma, very curious for a pirate of your renown. Yes, I know who you are, Captain Killian Jones. But then I figured out what it was you really wanted. Legitimacy. With my curse I can provide much more than that. It shouldn't even be called a curse, it's really a clean slate. A chance to start over. Everyone will be given a new life, new memories, and the Enchanted Forest will be nothing more than a dream you forget as soon as you wake up. Of course, some of these new lives will be more pleasant than the others, and I can ensure your life there is extremely pleasant, you'll have wealth, power, be admired and envied by all you encounter. I'll put you in a position that commands respect, where no one will remember all those dirty little secrets you've tried to keep hidden. Now, does that sound like such a terrible curse?"

She addressed it to him with an expectant look that soured when it was Emma who answered instead.

"It sounds like one of the Dark One's deals, and my parents taught me that those always come with a price."

The Queen's tone turned from velvet to venom. "I wasn't talking to you. Was she this insolent aboard your ship?"

Emma's insolence aboard the Jolly had driven him absolutely mad and highly amused him both in equal measure. Frequently at the same time. He shot her a stern look though, to keep up the ruse. "She learned to obey my orders in the end. Didn't you, darling? But if you're not going to kill her, then what do you plant to do with her, Your Majesty?"

He steered the conversation back to what really mattered, trying to get as much information as he could without arousing her suspicion. Keep Emma as her prisoner? Torture her for the sins of her mother? He'd have to figure out how to spirit her away from the castle without getting them both killed and figure it out quickly, take her back to the ship and attempt to outrun the reach of the Queen's curse. If such a thing was possible, it would only be possible aboard the Jolly.

The Queen smiled at Emma through lips the red of apples and fresh-spilled blood.

"Like I said, some lives in my new land will be more pleasant than others. There'll be no more royal trappings, no title, no servants there to wait on her hand and foot. No more pretty gowns or princes begging for her hand, no one coming to save her. Ever. She'll be alone, completely and utterly alone, and then she'll finally understand what it's like to live without love, without hope, without happiness. You could even keep on enjoying her, if you like, as much as you want, since you certainly earned your reward. Snow White's precious little princess turned into nothing more than a concubine to a pirate. Yes, that will make me very happy indeed."

He felt a shock run right through him at that, meeting Emma's wide-eyed gaze across the room. They had all thought the Queen was going to try to kill her before casting this mysterious curse, but if she was willing to both spare Emma and give her to him in this land where he would have power and prestige, then he could shelter and shield her with the Queen being none the wiser for it. She said they wouldn't remember, but there was no realm in which he wouldn't love Emma, his princess, his swan, memory be damned, and she fell in love with him once despite all the many reasons why she shouldn't. He could win her heart again in the new land, he was sure of it.

"Would it really be so terrible, Princess?" he asked. She looked back at him and there was nothing but the two of them in that moment, no Evil Queen, no kingdom in peril, nothing but the beat of his heart in his chest and his silent vow to follow wherever she led.

"You are my queen, and to you I pledge my sword and my fealty."

"My Queen."

Another voice chimed in, deep and rich with the accent of a distant shore. But the chamber was still empty save for the three of them, and Killian realized it was coming from inside the mirror. The reflection had disappeared completely and a face emerged from what looked like stormclouds, trapped somehow within the glass. It was clearly a man's face, though he lacked any form beyond his strange, grey visage. From faceless knights under her absolute control to a man who was nothing but a face in a mirror, was there no end to the Queen's dark magic?

The face spoke again, "Your other guest has just arrived, Your Majesty."

Other guest? Killian's confusion was reflected on Emma's face while the Queen was clearly pleased by the news, setting her goblet down on the sideboard in a swish of her fine gown and moving with purpose.

"I have a gift for you, Captain," she said, pausing to draw her nail under his chin and turning his head so that he was facing the doors. "You brought me one, and I thought it only fitting that I return the favour."

She flicked her wrist and they opened with a flourish. Torches blazed to life and two of the Black Knights entered, dragging a third man between them. Killian caught the barest glimpse of his face before he was shoved unceremoniously inside and fell to the floor in a heap with his head bent, his thick dark hair shot through heavily with silver. The man was tall, as tall as his brother had been, broad in the shoulders under a coarse linen shirt. Killian felt his heart beat faster at the sight of him and a sickening lurch in his belly. No. No, it couldn't be…

The Queen's voice cut through the haze that suddenly surrounded him, ordering the knights out and looping her arm through his to urge him forward.

"Snow White betrayed me in the worst possible way, by making me believe she could be trusted. It's a terrible thing to be betrayed by family, isn't it? The wound never truly heals no matter how much time passes. Five years, or ten, or sixteen…"

Sixteen years ago. Sixteen years ago he'd been a lad of eleven.

"Once upon a time there had been a father with two small sons, boarding a ship for what he promised was a new start in a new land for all of them…"

"Your Majesty, I swear I've done nothing, please. Please," the man begged in a voice that was familiar and unfamiliar both, thinner and watery with age. Killian's fingers curled against his thigh and he swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat.

The Queen ignored the desperate pleas and continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "Allow me to make the introductions. Princess Emma, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, meet Brennan Jones."

The shaggy head lifted at that and his gaze settled on Emma, thick brows that were twin to Killian's own knitting in confusion. The face was older, more grizzled and lined than the last memory Killian had of the man who knelt in front of him now.

Brennan Jones.

His father.

#Beyond the Horizon #cs fic #cs ff #my fic #cs au fic

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