#the bard's tale challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingrock · 1 month ago

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the tale of two lovers [10]

pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.

notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou, end of part one

word count: 9.6k

part list

part one: chapter list

a/n: i'm back from hiatus! my bad for leaving without posting chapter 10 whoops

The mornings were becoming a familiar routine. It was almost always either you or Bakugou who rose first, both mainly due to habit. There had only been one morning when Kirishima beat you both to it, but that was only because he couldn’t sleep. The early hours were quiet, the world still cloaked in the soft hues of dawn. Today was no different. You stirred from your bedroll, blinking away the last remnants of sleep as the first light of day filtered through the tall trees.

As you sat up, your eyes met Bakugou’s across the camp. The dragonborn barbarian was already awake, just as you’d expected. You’ve seen him every morning up and early. He was sitting by the fire, the embers still glowing faintly from the night before, casting a soft light over his features. Was it weird to admit that you’ve come to recognise how he sat? His posture, that quiet intensity in him during these still, solitary moments. You inched closer to him, curious to what he was up to this morning.

Bakugou held the artefact in his hands— a cold, metallic orb etched with ancient markings that seemed to shift and shimmer in the morning light. It was the third artefact in his quest, three out of the six needed to complete the set. The journey to retrieve it had been gruelling (but even that was a tame word to describe it). It had been filled with traps, challenges, and near-misses, but Bakugou had finally claimed it, wrestling it from the heart of Niniel’s Veil. He had fought hard for it, and now it rested in his grasp, a tangible reminder of how far he had come.

His fingers traced the intricate symbols engraved on the orb, each line and curve telling a story only the ancient artisans who crafted it could fully understand. Bakugou’s grip was firm, his thumb brushing over the cold metal almost absentmindedly, as though testing its weight and meaning.

You stood, stretching out the stiffness in your limbs before making your way over to the fire. The early morning air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and woodsmoke. As you approached, Bakugou glanced up, his crimson eyes meeting yours. There was no need for words; you both had gotten used to the unspoken rhythm that had developed between you. A rhythm of mutual respect and begrudging trust.

“Morning,” you said, settling onto a log opposite him, the warmth of the fire seeping into your waking bones. You watched as Bakugou continued to study the orb, deep in thought.

“Morning,” he grunted in reply, not sparing you a glance. The draconic prince continued to study the orb in his hand, analysing every curl and curve of the metal. It was a while before he said anything. When he did, you couldn’t help but jolt slightly from the sudden intrusion of silence. “Three down, three to go,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was quiet as he contemplated the progress of his journey. Even after collecting the third artefact, his body exuded tension of the challenges still ahead. He couldn’t relax.

You nodded, your attention drifting to the orb in his hands. The markings glinted faintly, reflecting the firelight. “You’re halfway there,” you said, a note of cautious optimism in your voice. “You think the next one will be any easier?”

Bakugou’s grip tightened slightly on the orb, tensing from your question. You could already tell his answer from his sudden tension. “Nothing’s ever easy,” he replied, greeting you with a familiar stubbornness. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ll get them. One way or another.” He turned the orb over in his hands, staring at it with determination that could burn someone. The answer was so… him. You weren’t surprised by his answer, you were starting to wonder why you bothered asking. “I can’t wait to bring them home.”

You’ve grown to admire the conviction in his words whenever he voiced about his journey. Despite the endless trials and the constant bickering, you had come to commend Bakugou’s unyielding determination. He was annoyingly relentless, always pushing forward no matter what and refusing to back down from danger. You couldn’t stand him at times but it was his drive that kept you all going, even when the odds were stacked against you. Not everyone was as unrelenting as him. His kind of persistence was personalised to him.

You watched in silence, captivated by the way Bakugou’s fingers traced the intricate markings etched into the cold metal surface of the orb. Each line, each symbol, held a story older than any of you could truly fathom. And it seemed, Bakugou was stubbornly attempting to decipher it. As his thumb brushed over the ancient carvings, you could see a rare softness in his usually intense gaze.

Bakugou’s lips moved as he whispered the words, his gravelly accent peeking through. “Irthir,” he murmured, the Draconic language rolling off his tongue with a quiet, dulcet cadence. “Knowledge…” he bothered to translate it for you, even if you understood.

He paused, turning the orb slightly to get a better glimpse of the words. You could hear him muttering to himself, reading the text with his expression momentarily unguarded. “Isk,” he continued, his voice even softer, almost as if he was speaking to the orb itself. “Star…”

He glanced up at you, turning the orb so you could see the carvings. Honestly, you were surprised he was bothering to turn the artefact around to show you these carvings. You recognized the words after studying it for a moment. Cursive strokes of Draconic carved into the orb with a delicate precision. The words weren’t directions or instructions, they were descriptors that signified what the orbs truly represented. Knowledge. Stars. They were symbols of wisdom and the cosmos itself.

“Knowledge… and star,” you repeated, letting the meaning sink in. It wasn’t just about finding a path or unlocking a hidden location. These orbs represented core elements of a forgotten legacy. “It’s not just a key,” you said quietly, your gaze fixed on the intricate script. Expressions you couldn’t fully understand but there was an inkling of an understanding. “These words… they’re markers of what the orbs stand for. Knowledge. Stars. It’s like each one embodies a different aspect of what the planetarium was built to honour.”

Bakugou nodded, wishing that he could unlock its secrets just by sheer will. “Yeah. These orbs are more than just a way in— they’re pieces of our legacy. They’re what made the dragonborn strong, we were connected to the stars.”

He had told you about his quest in rare, hushed moments. How the dragonborn planetarium, a sacred place of learning and celestial study, had been sealed for 130 years when the keys got stolen. It was a place where the ancient dragonborn had gathered to commune with the stars, where rulers had sought guidance, and where the history of their kind had been recorded in the constellations above. Without the orbs, the planetarium remained locked, its secrets lost to time and the stars unreachable.

For Bakugou, it was a deeply personal journey. Finding these artefacts wasn’t just about unlocking an ancient structure; it was about restoring what had been taken from his people. It was about reclaiming a throne that had been left empty, a legacy interrupted.

You watched him, seeing the fire in him as his hands cradled the orb. He couldn’t wait to return these pieces to their rightful place, to stand beneath the vast, celestial dome of the planetarium and see the stars as his ancestors once did. To take his throne onced he’s pieced his history together.

“So these orbs… they’re like the heart of the planetarium,” you said, your voice filled with newfound understanding. “They represent what was lost. The wisdom, the connection to the cosmos. You’re not just unlocking a building— you’re unlocking everything your people stood for.”

Bakugou’s grip on the orb tightened, thinking of his people and how they’ve been robbed of their history. “Damn right,” he said with his voice low, enunciated with a sharp bite. “These are our birthright. I’m going to return them, and when I do, the planetarium will be whole again. Our history won’t be some forgotten story. It’ll be there for everyone to see.”

Bakugou’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his resolve. This quest was always more than just a pursuit of ancient artefacts. Anyone could go on an artefact hunt. But this was about reclaiming a lost legacy, restoring a piece of history that had been stolen from his people. And with every artefact recovered, that goal felt a little more within reach. You watched as he carefully tucked the orb away, being careful as he was handling something infinitely precious to him.

“Once you have all six,” you said, your voice breaking the contemplative silence, “you’ll finally be able to see what the planetarium holds. The stars, the history… everything your ancestors left behind. It’ll all be there, waiting for you.”

Bakugou’s hard stare flicked to you,the sharpness in his eyes softened. He couldn’t help but soften even a little when it came to this topic. “It’s not just about seeing it,” he replied, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. Much different to the tone he had before. “It’s about bringing it back. Making sure everyone knows what it means to be dragonborn. The strength, the wisdom… we’ve lost too much of it. But once I open that planetarium, it won’t be lost anymore.” He was doing it for his people, for the generations that had come before him and those that would follow. It was a weighty responsibility, one that Bakugou wore like armour.

Bakugou stared into his drink, his expression guarded but slowly relaxing. The bard watched him carefully, fingers tracing idle patterns on the rim of his mug, his curiosity evident beneath the calm facade. The still tavern was their backdrop with the real focus was on the story Bakugou was recounting— the one that had held the bard’s attention from the moment it began. Bakugou was surprised he was still telling the bard this story, but something kept him going. In fact, he felt compelled to continue, as if stopping now would leave too much unsaid.

“So,” the bard said, his voice edged with the kind of genuine interest that made his living. “After you got the artefact, and you were standing there with the orb… What was going through your mind?”

Bakugou’s eyes flicked up, meeting the bard’s. He leaned back slightly, the chair creaking under his weight, and took a slow sip from his mug before setting it down with a soft thunk.

“What was going through my mind?” Bakugou echoed, as if testing the question. His gaze drifted to the inn’s door, as if his home was just beyond it. “I was thinking about what it all means— the planetarium, the legacy, my people… It’s not just about finding these damn artefacts. It’s about everything they represent. The stars. Our history. It’s about making sure our story doesn’t end up as some forgotten tale.”

The bard listened intently, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. “And unlocking the planetarium will change that? Bring it all back?”

Bakugou’s grip tightened on his mug, his knuckles white against the dark wood. “I knew it would. My people lost something when those keys went missing— our connection to what made us strong, what made us dragonborn. The planetarium isn’t just some relic. It’s the core of our history. For all of us.”

The bard leaned in, his interest piqued by the raw conviction in Bakugou’s voice. “You talk about it like it’s more than just a throne you’re after. Like it’s personal.”

Bakugou’s eyes flashed, a brief but unmistakable flicker of vulnerability crossing his hardened expression. “It is personal,” he admitted, his tone laced with an edge that spoke of years of unspoken burdens. “I wasn’t just doing it for the throne. I did it because it’s what my people deserve. They need to remember what we are. Who we are. And I was the only one who could make that happen.”

The bard nodded slowly, absorbing every word. He’d heard countless stories of quests, of battles fought and won, but there was something uniquely fierce in the way Bakugou spoke. Something that went beyond simple duty or ambition. “So in the story, you’ve got three of the six artefacts now,” the bard said, wanting to hear more of this tale. “That’s halfway. But it sounds like the hardest part is still ahead.”

Bakugou nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. The next ones did not come easy. But I was ready to tear the damn world apart if I had to.”

“But we had to get out of the Veil first.”

As the group pressed on, the dense trees of Niniel’s Veil slowly began to thin, and the path ahead grew clearer, though the air still carried the weight of the ancient magic they had encountered. The journey out was quieter than usual, their thoughts lingering on the trials they had faced and the artefact now in their possession. While you and Bakugou had definitely reached a place of mutual trust and understanding, it hadn’t put an end to the arguments. Not that it surprised you. The bickering was still as frequent as ever, a constant push and pull that seemed to be woven into the fabric of your relationship.

You led the group through the winding forest path, Bakugou’s presence was a constant at your side, his eyes scanning every twist and turn with an intensity that never seemed to waver. But his commentary? That was a different story.

“You’re taking us the long way around,” Bakugou muttered, crossing his arms as he shot you a pointed look. “We could’ve cut through that clearing back there and saved time. You’re dragging us around in circles.”

You rolled your eyes, barely glancing back at him. “Oh, really? And what, you think you know this place better than I do now? I’ve seen that clearing. It’s full of brambles and unstable ground. But hey, if you want everyone tangled up or falling on their asses, go for it.”

Bakugou scoffed, irritation flashing across his face. “Yeah, yeah, keep talking. I’m just saying, there’s always a faster way if you dared.”

“Oh– Just–” you interrupted, cutting him off before he could finish. You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a fierce look. “Just go to the back and quit disturbing me. Shut up and trust me.”

For a moment, Bakugou looked like he was about to argue. But then he saw that look in your gaze, and after a tense pause, he let out a frustrated grunt. You weren’t going to deal with his squabble today, he could tell by your burning stare. “Tch, fine. But if you screw this up, don’t come crying to me.”

With a begrudging roll of his eyes, Bakugou fell back, letting you take the lead. His presence was still palpable behind you, an imposing force of energy and frustration, but he didn’t push further. You felt his eyes on your back, but he stayed silent, allowing you to navigate the winding path ahead.

“Good,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him, as you refocused on the task at hand. You led the group deeper into the woods, the tension from the heated exchange slowly dissipating, replaced by the familiar rhythm of the journey. The forest was quieter now, the soft rustle of leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures mingling with the steady crunch of footsteps.

Mina slipped into step beside Bakugou, her movements fluid and quick as she matched his pace. She glanced at him, catching the subtle signs of frustration still simmering beneath his composed exterior. Bakugou’s eyes were fixed ahead, scanning every part of the woods and the path with relentless focus. But Mina knew him. She noticed the telltale tension in his shoulders, the way his grip on his scimitar tightened every so often, as if bracing for the next challenge.

Mina knew Bakugou well enough to see that he wasn’t just annoyed— he was wound up, caught between his instinct to charge ahead and the realisation that, for now, he had to follow. There was a restlessness in him that the slow, careful pace of the group did little to soothe, and it showed in every subtle clench of his jaw, every glance that lingered a second too long on the back of your head. Sure, he’s been letting you lead this whole time, but it still bothered him from time to time.

“You good?” Mina asked, her voice light with genuine concern. She nudged him gently with her elbow, trying to draw him out of whatever storm was brewing in his mind. “You’ve been gripping that scimitar like you’re about to fight the trees.”

Bakugou huffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Just thinking,” he muttered, “This whole place puts me on edge. Too damn quiet.”

Mina could understand his unease. This forest has not been a fun ride in the slightest. “Yeah, I get it. But hey, you know she’s got this. We’re in good hands, even if it’s not the fastest route.”

Bakugou’s sights switched to Mina, still slightly annoyed by the whole ordeal. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grumbled, loosening his grip slightly. Not wanting to get nagged by Mina.

She glanced at him, her smile suddenly taking a teasing tone. “So,” she began, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them, “I’ve been thinking... We should ask her to join us for the rest of the journey.”

Bakugou’s response was immediate and predictable, his brows furrowing as he let out a sharp scoff. “Hell no. You think I want her tagging along, running her mouth at every turn? She’s got a real attitude problem. Always got something to say, always pushing my buttons.”

Mina rolled her eyes, undeterred by his initial resistance. “Oh, come on, Katsuki. You know she’s been more than just useful. She’s saved our skins more than once, and you can’t deny she’s a damn good navigator. She’s got skills we need.”

Bakugou huffed, his gaze narrowing as he looked straight ahead, refusing to meet Mina’s eyes. “Yeah, and she’s also stubborn, always talking back, thinking she knows better. Doesn’t listen, always questioning every move. She’s a pain in the ass, Mina.”

Mina suppressed a smile, knowing that behind all his grumbling, there was something else. “And yet, you haven’t told her to get lost, have you? If she were really that much trouble, you would’ve sent her packing a long time ago. You don’t keep people around who aren’t worth it.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing, his mind replaying the countless moments where you had proved yourself, the sharp exchanges that somehow kept him on his toes. You were frustrating, no doubt, but he couldn’t deny your competence or the way you challenged him, forcing him to think in ways he often avoided.

“She’s not useless,” he finally conceded, though his tone was grudging. “But that doesn’t mean I want her tagging along the whole way. She’s a handful, always questioning everything I do. It’s annoying.”

Mina nudged him again, a wide grin on her face. She was starting to convince him. “Yeah, well, maybe you need someone like that around. Keeps you from getting too comfortable. Besides, it’s not like you two haven’t figured out how to work together. She’s got guts, Katsuki, and you know it. You might not say it out loud, but you respect her. And if you’re being honest, you’d miss having her around.”

Bakugou let out a frustrated sigh, knowing Mina was right but unwilling to give in so easily. “Fine, we’ve got a decent working relationship,” he grumbled. “But that doesn’t mean I’d miss her and I definitely am not looking forward to more of her lip.”

Bakugou glanced at Mina, his expression conflicted. He couldn’t deny that the cartographer had earned his trust, that they’d developed a rhythm, a way of working together that, despite the arguments, it felt… right. But letting her in further, admitting that he valued her presence? That was a harder pill to swallow.

“She’s trouble,” he muttered, but his tone had softened slightly, still stubborn in fully admitting everything Mina was saying. “But she gets the job done. Doesn’t back down, even when things get rough.”

Mina seized the opportunity, her voice gentle but insistent. “Exactly. And that’s why we need her. Look, I know she pushes your buttons, but she also pushes you. We’re not going to get the rest of those artefacts without some serious help. And deep down, you know she’s more than capable of handling what’s ahead.”

Bakugou scowled, the fire in his eyes flickering with annoyance. Did Mina always have to say shit that stung true? He hated to admit it, but there was something about you that had grown on him, even if it was hidden beneath layers of irritation and sharp-tongued banter. You were resilient, ‘not an idiot’, and had a knack for navigating both the land and the dynamics of the group.

“She’s a pain,” he repeated, but this time it lacked the bite. Seemed like he couldn’t continue to insult you. His tone was faltering. Thankfully, you weren’t there to hear it. “But fine. She can stick around, as long as she knows I’m not here to babysit.”

Mina grinned, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re not fooling anyone, Katsuki. We both know you’d rather have her with us than not. And I think, deep down, you kind of like that she doesn’t take your crap.”

“You’re delusional,” Bakugou scoffed, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “She better not get in my way, that’s all,” he grumbled, but there was no real malice behind his words— only the implied agreement that you were, in some infuriating way, exactly what the team needed.

Mina smiled to herself, knowing that despite his complaints, Bakugou had already made up his mind. She had seen the way he watched the cartographer when she wasn’t looking. The way he listened to her ideas even as he grumbled about them. There was a part of him, buried deep under all the mindless quarrels, that valued her presence more than he’d ever say. As they continued on, Mina glanced back, watching you navigate the path with your usual air of confidence. It was clear: the journey was far from over, but with you by their side, they were stronger for it, even if Bakugou would never quite say it out loud.

“So,” Mina began, her tone casual but with a teasing flair, “you’ll ask her to come along?”

Bakugou kept his gaze forward, his jaw tightening briefly as he considered her question. He didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, it seemed like he might deflect, but then he sighed, running a hand through his hair in a rare gesture of hesitation. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice gruff but firm. “I’ll ask her.”

The navigation through the forest had been going surprisingly well, each step forward feeling more assured as the group followed the winding path you’d set. The dense trees of Niniel’s Veil seemed less menacing, and the way ahead was clearer with every turn. That is, until a faint, melodic giggle rippled through the air, light and playful, yet unsettlingly out of place.

You froze, instincts immediately on high alert, as the sound echoed faintly around you. The others paused too, their eyes darting through the trees. Before anyone could react, a flurry of movement caught your attention. Small figures darted between the trunks, their forms barely visible— a blur of shimmering wings, trailing stardust-like glimmers that faded almost as quickly as they appeared.

“They’re fae,” you muttered, recognizing the mischievous energy that hung in the air. “Stay sharp. They’re trying to mess with us.”

The fae were everywhere and nowhere all at once, flitting just out of sight, their presence marked only by flashes of colour and the occasional burst of soft, teasing laughter. They moved like wisps of smoke, intangible and unpredictable, using illusions to bend the light and twist the terrain around you. A path that seemed clear one moment would shift subtly, leading you into a thicker underbrush or looping back in impossible ways.

Mina squinted, trying to keep her focus. “Great, just what we needed. Tricksters with magic. I can’t even tell what’s real anymore.”

Bakugou’s frustration flared, his gaze snapping to where one of the fae had momentarily materialised— a small, ethereal figure with gleaming eyes and a taunting grin. He lunged, but the fae vanished in an instant, leaving only a swirl of sparkling dust behind. “Damn pests,” he growled, glaring at the empty space. “They’re just trying to throw us off. We need to keep moving.”

But the fae weren’t making it easy. Every step seemed to shift the forest around you, the trees warping, paths intertwining and unravelling in a kaleidoscope of illusions. What looked like a straightforward route would suddenly transform, becoming a tangled mess of thorns or leading the team in circles. The laughter of the fae filled the air, light and musical, yet carrying an edge of mockery as they watched your growing frustration.

“Everyone, focus!” you called out, trying to cut through the chaos. “They’re using illusions to mess with our senses. Don’t trust what you see.”

Kirishima stepped forward. “We’ve got to stay close. They’re trying to separate us.”

Denki stumbled, catching himself on a tree that shifted under his touch, the bark melting into a cascade of leaves that swirled around him. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, eyes wide as he tried to regain his bearings. “It’s like the whole forest is playing tricks on us.”

As the fae circled the group, their shimmering forms flickering in and out of sight, their presence was more than just mischievous— they were curious, playful, and far too clever. They darted close, their translucent wings shimmering like dragonfly scales in the dim light, and with each pass, they whispered teasing comments that were sharp as thorns yet laced with a childlike amusement.

One of the fae, with iridescent emerald eyes and a mischievous grin, flitted close to Bakugou, eyes sparkling with interest. “So fierce, so angry,” it giggled, its voice high and airy, like the chime of a distant bell. “Trying to hide the fear behind all that rage, are we? Such a temper! Are you sure you’re not just a walking tantrum in armour?”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened, his fists clenching at his sides as he glared at the fae. “Tch, get out of my face,” he snapped, swinging his hand through the air where the fae had been, only for it to dart away, laughing. His eyes flashed with irritation at the insult and teases. These little glorified mosquitoes.

Another fae, pale as moonlight with wings that shimmered like silver, hovered near Mina, its gaze flitting from her hair to her bright eyes. “Ah, aren’t you adorable,” it cooed, almost mockingly. “Laughing so no one sees the cracks, is that it? But we see you, little spark. You are… scared.”

Mina’s smile faltered for just a second, her expression tightening as she swatted at the air. “Oh, shut up,” she muttered, her cheerfulness wavering as the fae’s words struck a nerve. She forced her usual grin back into place, but there was a slight tremble in her hands, betraying the anxiety the fae had so easily picked up on.

Twin fae, delicate and quick, buzzed around Sero and Denki, its laughter soft and teasing. “Oh, these two,” it sang, darting between them. “Always joking, always pretending nothing bothers you. But the forest sees through your jokes.”

One of the twins circled around Sero while the other drifted toward Denki, gliding through the air with ease. The air seemed to grow colder with their presence, the playful tone of their voices laced with a sharp blade. Mockery wrapped in silk.

The fae closest to Denki tilted its head, golden eyes gleaming with cruel delight as it hovered inches from his face. “Oh, look at this one,” it purred, voice sweet like a lullaby gone wrong. “So full of jokes and chatter… but we hear the trembling in your thoughts. Afraid you’ll mess up again, aren’t you? That this time, you won’t be enough. That they’ll all see you’re just pretending to know what you’re doing.”

Denki flinched slightly, his hand tightening around the hilt of his blade, but the fae only laughed, the sound airy and maddening.

Meanwhile, the second twin circled Sero with a slow, deliberate elegance, studying him with an unsettling smile. “And you…” it hummed, drifting behind his shoulder. “The one who’s always watching from the edge, pretending you’re fine. Tell us, what scares you more: being left behind, or realizing no one would notice if you were?”

The words hung in the air like smoke, curling into the spaces between heartbeats. Sero’s jaw tensed, but he said nothing, eyes narrowing as the fae continued to orbit him.

The twins giggled in unison, their laughter echoing like wind through hollow trees, before darting away in a swirl of glowing wings. Leaving the sting of their words behind like thorns under the skin.

Denki tried to laugh it off, but it came out strained, his eyes darting nervously. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he said, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Sero shrugged, but his demeanour had faltered, his gaze flickering uneasily to the shifting shadows around them. The fae’s words lingered, uncomfortably close to the truth.

Another fae, her wings a vibrant swirl of blues and purples, hovered near Kirishima, inspecting him with admiration and playful disdain. “The brave one,” she murmured, her tone half-mocking, half-genuine. “So strong, so determined— but does the armour hide a heart that doubts? What happens when courage meets the unknown?”

Kirishima’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he straightened his posture. “I’m not afraid of anything,” he said firmly, though his voice wavered slightly. He brushed off the comment, but his fingers gripped his weapon a little tighter, as if holding onto his courage with all his strength.

Then, a fae with iridescent wings and a knowing smile circled closer to you, her gaze piercing, like she could see straight through your thoughts. “And the guide,” she said, her voice a whisper that felt like it brushed against your skin. “Always thinking, always planning, always trying to stay one step ahead. Clever guide… so many maps, yet none for your own heart.”

You stiffened, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of her scrutiny. But the fae wasn’t finished. She leaned in closer, her eyes glinting with a sharp, almost predatory curiosity. “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?” she continued, her tone both playful and accusatory, like a cat toying with a mouse. “Something deeper, something you don’t want the others to see. Secrets are heavy, you know. How long before they weigh you down?”

Your breath hitched slightly, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest as if the fae’s words had reached into the most guarded corners of your mind. You forced yourself to hold her gaze, even as you felt a flicker of something cold and uncomfortable stir within you.

You stiffened, trying to ignore the way the fae’s words crawled under your skin. “I’m not here to play games with you,” you hissed sharply, your voice edged with a defensiveness you couldn’t quite hide. You turned away, focusing on the task at hand, but the fae’s question lingered, echoing in your mind like a challenge.

The fae’s comments were light, almost playful, but each word held a mirror to the insecurities and fears that lingered beneath the surface of every traveller. They flitted about, delighting in the discomfort their observations caused, their laughter echoing through the clearing. It was clear they weren’t just here to disrupt— they were here to unravel, to play with the minds of those who dared to tread on their sacred ground.

The fae continued their game, dancing just beyond reach, their playful taunts making it clear they were enjoying this disruption. You could feel the tension rising among your group, the fae’s influence pushing everyone to the edge of their patience.

Bakugou clenched his fists as he scanned the flickering illusions. A vein popping out from his head as their tricks were starting to give him headaches. “This is getting old. We need a way to see past their damn tricks.”

As the group struggled to navigate the illusions, it became clear that brute force or trying to outsmart the fae might not be enough. The laughter and teasing voices of the fae only grew louder, as if mocking your every attempt to push forward. Realising the futility of fighting magic with sheer willpower, you decided to try a different tactic: negotiation.

You stopped, holding up a hand to signal the group to pause. “These tricks are only going to get worse if we keep pushing through,” you said, glancing at each of your companions. “Fae don’t just mess with people for fun— they do it because they want something. We need to figure out what they want.”

Mina nodded thoughtfully, her eyes darting around to the faint glimpses of fae darting in and out of sight. “So, what do we do? Offer them something?”

Bakugou’s brow furrowed, clearly not thrilled with the idea of negotiating. “We don’t have time for games. Why should we play nice with these pests?”

You turned to Bakugou, meeting his frustrated gaze with calm resolve. “Because they’re in control here, and they won’t let us leave until they get what they want. Let me try something.”

You stepped forward, raising your voice to address the playful fae. “Let’s talk,” you called out, your tone firm but not hostile. “We’re just trying to pass through. We don’t want any trouble.”

There was a moment of stillness, the forest seeming to hold its breath. Then, a faint giggle echoed, followed by a shimmering figure emerging from the shadows. The fae, small and ethereal with wings that sparkled like dew in sunlight, hovered in front of you, filled with mischievousness.

“What makes you think we care about what you want?” the fae chimed, its voice musical and teasing. “This is our forest. You’re the trespassers.”

You nodded, acknowledging the fae’s point. “I understand. And we don’t mean to disrespect your home. But we’re on an important journey, and we can’t afford to be delayed. Maybe there’s something we can offer in return for safe passage?”

The fae’s eyes gleamed, clearly intrigued by your offer. It danced closer, studying you with keen interest. “Hmm… mortals always have something to trade, don’t they? A secret, a memory, a promise, a trinket. What will you offer?”

You reached into your pack and pulled out a small, intricately carved trinket— something you’d kept for situations like this. It was a charm infused with a touch of magic, not particularly powerful but crafted with care. Fae valued craftsmanship, especially if it was something unique or imbued with personal significance.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, holding the charm out in the open. “What about this?,” you asked, your voice clear, “we mean no harm and seek only safe passage. In exchange, I offer this charm, crafted with care. Let us leave your domain in peace, and this will be yours.”

For a moment, there was silence. The air seemed to hold its breath, the forest stilling around you. Then, with a faint rustle, the fae began to appear, their small, ethereal forms flitting into view. They hovered around you, their eyes gleaming with curiosity as they examined the charm you held.

One of the fae, slightly larger and more elaborately adorned than the others, fluttered closer, its gaze fixed on the charm. It circled you, considering the offer. The others watched intently, their playful energy momentarily subdued.

Finally, the lead fae spoke, its voice a delicate whisper that seemed to echo in the air. “A fair trade traveller. Your sincerity is noted. We accept your offering.”

With that, the fae reached out, a delicate hand taking the charm from you. As soon as the charm passed into its possession, the oppressive weight of the illusions lifted. The path ahead of you became clear once more, the twisting trees returning to their natural state. The fae, true to their word, began to fade back into the shadows, their mischief satisfied.

“Thank you,” you said, offering a slight bow. The fae giggled softly, a sound more lighthearted than mocking this time, before disappearing entirely.

Bakugou crossed his arms, still looking a bit grumpy but clearly relieved. “Didn’t think they’d go for it,” he muttered, though there was a grudging respect in his tone.

You smiled slightly, feeling the tension ease as you turned back to the group. “Sometimes, it’s not about fighting back. It’s about knowing when to strike a deal.”

With the fae’s mischief finally at bay, the group pressed on, leaving the magical tricksters behind. The trinket was gone, but so were the faeries. As long as you acknowledged their world, they would, in turn, allow you safe passage through it. The journey through should now be smooth.

Once the fae finally fluttered away, their laughter fading into the depths of the forest, an uneasy silence settled over the group. The air felt heavier, as if the playful taunts had left an invisible weight on everyone’s shoulders. The lingering effects of the fae’s words clung to each of you like a thin, uncomfortable fog, difficult to shake off.

Mina let out a shaky breath, her usual cheerfulness dampened as she hugged her arms around herself. “Those little pests really know how to get under your skin,” she murmured, trying to hide the tension in her voice. She glanced around at the others, her eyes searching for reassurance but finding the same shaken expressions reflected back at her.

Kirishima ran a hand through his hair, his normally bright and determined demeanour dulled. “They’re like… they just see right through you,” he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “All the things you try to push aside, all the stuff you don’t talk about— they just… pull it out of you.” He frowned, clenching and unclenching his fists as if trying to work the feeling out of his system.

Denki and Sero exchanged uneasy glances, their usual easygoing camaraderie muted. Denki kicked at the ground, his smile nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, no kidding. It’s like they were reading my mind or something,” he muttered, a nervous laugh escaping him that sounded hollow. “I didn’t think they’d… I mean, it’s just jokes, right? But…”

Sero nodded with an edge of discomfort. “They’re not just messing with us. It’s like they’re trying to pull us apart from the inside.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as it would rub away this ache he felt. “It’s unsettling. I feel like I’m still hearing their voices.”

Bakugou, standing slightly apart from the group, was scowling at the empty space where the fae had been. He looked more irritated than shaken. “Damn nuisances,” he grumbled, obviously annoyed that the fae had messed with the group like this. “Don’t let them get to you. They were just trying to mess with our heads.” But even as he spoke, his gaze was distant, his own words echoing in his mind.

You felt the uneasy energy radiating off your companions, the quiet vulnerability that hung in the air. The fae had probed deeper than anyone expected, pulling at the frayed edges of doubts and fears that normally stayed buried. There was a rawness in the group now, a sense of exposure that left everyone feeling a little off balance, as if the ground beneath you wasn’t quite solid anymore.

“Let’s keep moving,” you said, trying to inject some steadiness into your voice. “They’re gone now, and we’ve got ground to cover.” But your own words felt thin, strained. You couldn’t quite shake the fae’s whispers, and judging by the expressions around you, neither could anyone else.

The group nodded, subdued but still determined. You all pressed on, moving forward in a tense but unified silence. The usual, easy conversations were absent, replaced by quiet reflection as everyone wrestled with the fae’s parting words. The forest, though seemingly calm, felt different now. More alive, more aware, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being watched, your innermost thoughts still laid bare.

The group pressed on, shaken but determined to leave the fae’s taunts behind. By the time you reached a small clearing, the sky had darkened, and the weariness from the day’s events had settled heavily on everyone’s shoulders. Without a word, you all began to set up camp, the familiar motions of pitching tents and gathering firewood providing a welcome distraction from the lingering discomfort.

Once again, the fire crackled to life, casting warm light against the deepening shadows of the forest. As everyone settled around the fire, there was a quiet tension hanging in the air, an unspoken weight left by the fae’s piercing comments. Bakugou had taken his place at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed as he kept a vigilant watch, his eyes trained on the surrounding woods. You, too, sat slightly apart, pretending to be engrossed in tending to the fire, though your mind was still spinning with the fae’s words.

The rest of the group gathered closer, huddling around the fire’s warmth as the chill of the night set in. For a while, no one spoke, the silence between them heavy with the fae’s echoes. Finally, it was Mina who broke the quiet, her voice soft and hesitant.

“I still can’t believe how easily they got under our skin,” she admitted, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. “They just knew… exactly what to say.”

Denki sighed, rubbing his hands together as if trying to ward off more than just the cold. “Yeah, it’s like they could read every thought we’ve tried to ignore. I hate to admit it, but they were right about me… It’s just… easier that way.”

Sero placed a comforting hand on Denki’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, man. You don’t have to explain yourself. We trust you and your skills.”

Mina nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah, Denki. And, Sero, you’re always the one keeping us grounded, even when it feels like everything’s upside down. You guys are way stronger than you give yourselves credit for.”

Kirishima let out a deep breath, his normally bright eyes dimmed with the weight of the fae’s words. “They weren’t wrong about me either. I try so hard to be the strong one, but… there’s always that little voice that wonders if I’m really good enough. If I’m actually strong enough to protect everyone.”

Mina scooted closer to Kirishima, bumping him gently with her shoulder. “You are, Kiri. You’re always the first one to jump in when things get tough, not just because you’re strong, but because you care.”

Sero chimed in, his voice steady and sincere. “And Mina, you’re the one who keeps us going when things feel impossible. You never lose hope and that pushes us.”

Mina smiled, though it was tinged with a bittersweet acknowledgment of her own doubts. “Thanks, guys. It’s just… it’s hard to keep that up sometimes, you know? But hearing it from you means a lot.”

The group fell into a comfortable silence, the mutual support easing the tension bit by bit. They were bruised, but not broken, and the quiet words of reassurance passed between them like a warm, healing balm. Each confession, each moment of vulnerability, felt like a thread weaving them closer together, binding their fears into something stronger than before. From your spot by the fire, you watched them, feeling a pang of envy and gratitude all at once. Seeing your companions open up, comfort each other, and push back against the insecurities that had been so cruelly exposed, you felt a flicker of hope.

As the night wore on, the camp settled into a calm, the sting of the fae’s words slowly fading into the background. The doubts and insecurities the fae had stirred still lingered, but the bonds between you all were undeniable, each moment of shared struggle and quiet reassurance weaving a stronger thread between you. The team’s laughter, though softer now, had returned, warmed by the comfort of knowing that they had each other.

Even though you and Bakugou hadn’t voiced your own vulnerabilities, there was an unspoken respect from the others. They didn’t push or pry, understanding that some battles were fought in silence. It was enough that you were all here, together, each person offering their support in the ways they knew best. There was a mutual understanding that didn’t need words. Neither of you were ready to share, and that was okay.

One by one, they drifted off to their bedrolls, carrying with them the warmth of their friends’ words, letting the crackling fire and the cool night air lull them into a well-deserved rest. Except for you, of course. Like many nights, sleep eluded you, your mind too full of thoughts to allow rest. And the words of the fae didn’t help. You stared up at the sky, the stars winking down at you through the canopy of trees, their light soft and distant. But tonight, someone else was awake.

Suddenly, a tuft of blond hair came into your vision, and before you could react, Bakugou’s face hovered over you, his intense gaze locking onto yours as you instinctively sat up. His expression was unreadable in the dim light, but there was something quiet in his eyes. More contemplative than usual.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked softly, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Bakugou grunted, his usual brusque manner softened by the lateness of the hour. “You either, huh?” he replied, his voice low and rough, like gravel shifting underfoot.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Nope. Guess we’re both stuck with our thoughts tonight.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence stretching out between you. But then, as if wordlessly deciding on the same course of action, you both stood, brushing off the loose dirt and leaves from your clothes. Without another word, Bakugou jerked his head towards the trees, a silent invitation for a walk. You nodded in agreement, and the two of you set off into the night, leaving the warmth of the campfire behind.

This part of the forest was different at night. Calmer, almost serene, with the sounds of nocturnal creatures quietly rustling through the undergrowth. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and the air was cool against your skin, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and pine.

You walked side by side, the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots the only sound between you. Neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a shared stillness that gave you both a moment of much needed peace.

Eventually, the trees began to thin, revealing a small, hidden pond nestled in the heart of the forest. The surface of the water was smooth as glass, reflecting the moon and stars like a mirror. Willows draped their long, trailing branches over the water, their leaves whispering softly in the breeze. It was a place of quiet beauty, untouched by the day’s trials and the lingering tension from the fae’s encounter.

Bakugou stopped at the edge of the pond, his gaze fixed on the water as he took a deep breath. You followed his lead, settling down beside him on the soft grass. The willow branches swayed gently above, creating a natural curtain that made the world beyond seem distant and unimportant.

After a while, you glanced at Bakugou, catching the way his expression had softened in the moonlight, the usual hard lines of his face relaxed in the peaceful surroundings. You settled beside him, drawing your knees up to your chest as you stared at the pond, the reflections of the stars shimmering just out of reach. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in the shared stillness. The silence was comfortable, wrapped in the unspoken understanding that had grown between you over time.

Finally, Bakugou broke the quiet, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. “You don’t have to say anything about earlier. About… what those fae said. It’s none of their damn business anyway.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the blunt but genuine reassurance in his words. There was no demand for explanation, no pressure to open up. Just a simple acknowledgment that whatever you were carrying, it was yours to hold, or to release, on your own terms.

“Same goes for you,” you replied, feeling thankful for his concern. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation. Not me, not them. We all have our stuff. And it’s okay if we don’t want to talk about it.”

Bakugou’s eyes flicked to yours, he was appreciative in his gaze. “Yeah. Guess we’ve all got shit we’d rather keep to ourselves. But... it’s good to know we’re not the only ones.”

There is another moment of silence before he awkwardly breaks it. “But…” he said gruffly, with a trim of gentleness. Shifting to make eye contact with you, despite how weird he felt about it. “I’m not one for talking about… that kind of crap. But if you ever need to… you know… I’ll listen.”

He was trying. The realisation brought a smile to your face. You nodded, appreciating the offer for what it was. “Thanks. But honestly, I’m okay. Sometimes it’s just… better to keep some things to yourself.”

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, his gaze drifting back to the pond. “Just means you’re handling it your way. That’s not a bad thing.”

You nodded, feeling a quiet sense of relief settle over you. The fae had tried to pry open wounds you weren’t ready to share, but here, sitting by the pond with Bakugou, you felt no need to explain yourself. It was comforting.

The night wrapped around you like a familiar cloak, the willows whispering softly as the two of you sat in silence. The pond shimmered gently under the moon’s light, and for a moment, the weight of your unspoken fears didn’t feel so heavy. You were both here, under the same sky, gazing into the still waters, silently easing each other's restless thoughts.

The peaceful silence between you stretched on, the soft rustle of the willow branches and the gentle ripple of the pond the only sounds in the quiet night. But then, Bakugou broke the stillness with a question, still staring out over the water.

“So, what are you gonna do after all this?” he asked, not looking at you directly. “When we’re out of this damn forest?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sudden question. For a moment, you considered your answer, feeling the weight of the question more than you’d expected. “Honestly? I’m not sure,” you admitted, your tone light but tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t really have any big plans. I’ll probably just go back to taking commissions— mapping out new places, charting paths that haven’t been drawn yet. There’s always something out there that needs a map, and people pay well for a good one.”

Bakugou nodded, though his expression tightened slightly, as if he’d expected something different. “So, just back to the same old routine, huh?” he said, his voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. “Figured you’d be aiming for something bigger, considering all the lip you’ve given me about my plans.”

You raised an eyebrow, catching the snark in his tone. “And what’s wrong with that? Not everyone’s on a grand quest, you know. Some of us just like having a job that pays the bills.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Big important cartographer, mapping the unknown, blah, blah, blah. But don’t you ever get bored of the same old thing? You’re good at this— better than good. Hell, you’ve kept us from getting lost more times than I can count.”

You raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his sincerity. “Is this you admitting you’d be lost without me?”

“Chaubask vur kepeshk karshoji,” he shot back with some draconic slang, clearly already frustrated with you. You always had to step on his toes. After a moment, he spoke again, his tone was lighter. “I’m just saying, you’ve got more to offer than drawing maps for strangers.”

A moment of silence hung between you, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You were trying to understand what he was trying to say. But he was going to spell it out… once he stopped hesitating. Bakugou let out a defeated sigh as he finally gathered himself to speak. “Why don’t you stick around?” he asked, almost sounding like he regretted asking already. “Join us. We’re not done yet, and you’re already in this deep. Might as well see it through to the end.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Join you? On your adventure? You sure you want to deal with me tagging along, Bakugou? I’m pretty sure I annoy the hell out of you.”

Bakugou shot you a sideways glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “You do annoy the hell out of me,” he admitted, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you’re not useless. You know your way around places, and you’re not afraid to stand your ground. Besides, we could use someone who can actually read a damn map.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow at his reluctant compliment. “Wow, Bakugou, that’s almost sweet. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were actually trying to be nice.”

Bakugou snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m just stating the facts. Doesn’t mean I’m suddenly all warm and fuzzy.”

You chuckled, shrugging casually. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. But hey, I’ll take what I can get. And don’t worry— I’ll keep you from getting lost, even if it means dragging you by the ear the whole way.”

“Just think about it. Better than wandering around aimlessly looking for the next gig, right?” he muttered, almost dreading your answer. Were you going to say yes? Or would you reject the offer?

You tilted your head, considering his offer. “I don’t know, Bakugou. You really think you can handle me sticking around? I might drive you crazy.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You already drive me crazy,” he shot back, his tone teasing. “Besides, if anyone’s gonna push my buttons, I’d rather it be someone who knows what they’re doing.”

You grinned, folding your arms as you leaned in slightly. “Oh, so you admit you like having me around, huh? Who knew you had a soft spot for the difficult ones?”

Bakugou snorted, but his smirk didn’t fade. “Don’t get it twisted, idiot. I just prefer my headaches to come from someone who actually knows how to pull their weight. Makes it worth the trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that. Just don’t blame me when you end up regretting this.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Regret? Please. If I’ve put up with you this long, I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever else you’ve got.” Bakugou barked, his smirk still firmly in place.

You laughed, crossing your arms as you looked at him. “Big talk coming from the guy who nearly loses his temper every time I call him out. You sure you’re ready for more of that?”

Bakugou’s smirk widened, challenge and confidence all over his face. “Bring it on. You keep me on my toes, and I’d rather have you around than deal with idiots who don’t know what they’re doing. I know you’re not gonna back down, you’re stubborn as hell. ”

You paused, studying his face. The familiar scowl that had softened just enough to let something real slip through. “You’re not getting rid of me, huh?” you said, pretending to mull it over, though your mind was already made up.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but you could tell he was waiting for your answer. “Damn right. So what’s it gonna be?”

What could go wrong? What did you have to lose?

Just because you felt like it, you paused. Giving a moment for this to really settle before you answered. In time, you gave him a lopsided grin, finally letting the decision settle. “Alright, I’m in.”

Bakugou stilled for a moment, registering your acceptance. Registering that you would be coming along for the journey now. He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he leaned back against the willow tree. “Hope you’re ready for it, Sthyarli.”

“Tiamash.”

And with that, the decision was sealed, unspoken promises hanging in the cool night air. You and Bakugou remained there, the water reflecting the stars above, and for once, the future felt just a little less uncertain. Whatever came next… at least you knew that you had this tiamash to deal with.

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a/n: it's going to be part two soon eek!!! sorry this took soo long but i'm back guys, i swear @chocogoldie @devils-adversary @l0kisbitch @miikii0 @onlyisaa @sleepisfortheweakpooh @helena-way07 @enzstr @qardasngan @rednicotine @318474hello @d4rlinxs @sgtrjivc @ky0ruuu

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

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dailyadventureprompts · 5 months ago

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Dungeon: Castle Gelidraf

Artsource

Once belonging to a plunderhungry northern thane by the name of Geyrild Grimstalker, the fate of this forlorn fortress was sealed when Geyrild set himself to stealing one of the sea god's daughters.

Bards tell different versions of the tale: love or ransom, rescue or ravishment. Whatever the truth of the matter, the sea god's wrath fell upon Geyrild's home, striking it with a great wave and then freezing it solid.

Near to a century since this act of wrath, rumours have begun to circulate that the once glacial ice around the castle has begun to crack and thaw, opening the possibility to reclaim a portion of the thane's stolen riches.

Challenges:

As the party race across frigid seas they'll have to contend with other treasure hunters, some reasonable, some bloodthirsty.

The wise forewarn that the sea god's wrath may yet linger over castle Gelidraf, but those with the pillager's lust for riches are unlikely to heed them. Odd weather and icy elementals are likely to bedevil any who make the journey, and may even follow them home after the adventure is done.

Denied his prize, Geyrild's spirit has refused to fade. Fuelled by an ire that not even the wrath of winter could quell, the thane's specter now stalks the halls of his keep looking for a body to replace the one entombed in ice. The first he's found is a fearsome winterwolf ( darksouls style sword-wielding-beast bossfight anyone?), but after that one is slain he'll gladly move onto the party or one of the other treasure hunters.

#winter #dungeon #treasure hunt #ruin #winter dungeon #seaside #seaside dungeon #d&d #dungeons & dragons #dnd #pathfinder

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moonselune · 1 year ago

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Hello! May I request a fic where Astarion and the reader go through a little nightly routine together, like they chat and help each other get ready for bed 🥰 Thank you!

ִ ࣪𖤐 Astarion deserves all the pampering in the world ִ ࣪𖤐

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x reader | Pampering

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

As the day wound down and the last embers of the campfire flickered in the darkness, you and Astarion retreated to the quiet comfort of your shared tent. It had become a nightly ritual—a cherished routine that allowed you both to unwind from the trials of the day and find solace in each other's presence.

Inside the tent, the air was warm and filled with the lingering scent of herbs and leather. A few soft cushions and blankets were scattered around, creating a cozy nest where you and Astarion could relax together. You settled cross-legged on one side of the tent, while Astarion gracefully reclined against a pile of cushions opposite you.

"So, how was your day?" you asked, reaching for a small pouch of herbs that served as a makeshift tea. Astarion took the offered cup gratefully, savoring the soothing warmth as he recounted the day's events—the skirmishes with bandits, the unexpected encounter with a wandering bard, and the endless banter exchanged with the party members.

You listened attentively, laughing at his witty remarks and nodding sympathetically at the challenges he faced. Astarion's voice was a melody in the quiet of the tent, weaving tales of adventure and mischief that never failed to captivate you.

Once the tea was finished, you set aside the cups and moved closer to Astarion. With a gentle touch, you began to untangle his long, silvery hair, running your fingers through the locks with practiced ease. Astarion closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as a contented sigh escaped his lips.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection, "I never thought I'd find comfort in such mundane tasks."

You chuckled softly, continuing to brush his hair with careful strokes. "It's the little things that matter, my darling. Besides, I rather enjoy pampering you."

Astarion opened one eye, giving you a playful smirk. "Pampering, is it? I suppose I could get used to being spoiled by you."

With a teasing glint in your eye, you set the brush aside and reached for a small jar of moisturizing cream. Astarion watched with mild curiosity as you scooped out a dollop and began to massage it into his scalp, your fingers working in gentle circles.

"You have to take care of your hair, you know," you teased, your voice laced with mock seriousness. "Can't have it getting tangled during our next battle."

He chuckled, tilting his head to give you better access. "Of course, my love. Wouldn't want to disappoint you with unkempt locks."

Once his hair was properly cared for, Astarion returned the favor, retrieving another jar from your shared supplies and offering to massage your shoulders. The warmth of his touch eased the tension that had settled there, his skilled fingers working magic against the knots of fatigue.

As the night deepened, conversation flowed effortlessly between you. You shared stories of your pasts, dreams for the future, and whispered secrets that only the darkness of night could hold. The quiet intimacy of these moments, the simple act of caring for each other, forged a bond stronger than any battle or hardship.

Eventually, when the candles burned low and the weariness of the day caught up with you both, you retreated under the covers of your shared bedroll. Astarion wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling, lulling you into a peaceful slumber..

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you enjoyed it ! - Seluney x

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #spawn astarion x reader #spawn astarion #astarion ancunin x reader

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mogruith · 4 months ago

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OC Questions

Thanks for tagging me in your original post @ratchsellsfornax!! I also enjoyed your posting the answers to these for Micah! It took me a bit with a busy weekend and start to the work-week but I've finally ironed it out.

Anyway, on to the blabbing about my baby boy, Coranzan.

👕Appearance 7. Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Not exactly in looks per se, but Coranzan was inspired in many ways by a human bard lay-worshipper of Eilistraee he met while training as Cleric of Eilistraee, based loosely on my oldest OC and account namesake, Mog Ruith. He mentored Coranzan while he was in Clerical training and cheered him up with the grandest tales of romance and adventure, introducing him to many foreign concepts that would consume Coran to understand. It changed Coranzan from being somewhat dismayed about living on the surface to inspired and embracing of it.

📦Objects 14. Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Coranzan has done a LOT of writing. And lot of it was frankly terrible until he received some of the aforementioned mentoring. Although he doesn't travel with them, his Waterdeep family home contains a chest full of many of his early drafts in attempting to write. They range from over-the-top ballads to cheesy puppy love letters. He keeps them with a mix of pride and embarrassment.

🍽️Food and Drink 10. What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

As a common Menzoberranyr, he didn't have access to any rich foods, so nothing that would sound particularly special. But a simple bit of spore bread sweetened with the jam of cave vine grapes would be as a fancy and tasty dessert to him.

🌤️Weather and Nature 2. Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

Nothing terribly meaningful, but some of the rare still moments Coranzan enjoyed were when he was made to sit quietly and listen to the night - a challenge for someone constantly on the move. When given the time to focus and decompress, the sounds of night-singing songbirds (blackbirds, mockingbirds, nightingales, etc) would catch his attention the most. They would occasionally end up in some of his songs and poems, sometimes appearing as characters in his fictional ballads. During the quieter evenings, he loved to imagine the tales they could be telling in their songs.

🤝Community and Relationships 3. How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Coranzan has always been a bard first and foremost in his heart, despite all the other life changes he's ever made. Since he was a sprog, he's his happiest with an audience and loves to perform. And true to his insufferable ego, he's quite proud of his form and knows he cuts a striking figure when he dances, so he engages in it at every chance.

💓Mind, Body and Soul 19. Are there scents your character dislikes?

Stealing this answer from another ask: The smell of exhaust and lubricants from machines and mechanical constructs like the Steel Watch. Coran hadn't encountered very many of these kind of creatures before, but encountering so many in Baldur's Gate resulted in a strong dislike of the smell.

🎲 Hobbies and Activities 3. What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Coranzan wishes he had a talent for comprehending mathematical concepts and solving such problems quickly. If it can't be understood intuitively, and has any abstractness to it at all, he can't envision the concept and make sense of it. Numbers, generally, give him a lot of trouble. He admires those who can seemingly do it all in their heads.

No pressure tagging @moriarfer @pavusprince @majorasnightmare @arach-tinilith @hootshooligan @the-weeping-dawn @albweado @mystxmomo @lutethebodies @nemo-of-house-hamartia @autisticdrizzt @bloodsol94 for whatever OC and fandom you feel these questions would fit best with!

If you are dying to talk about your OCs and we're mutuals, please don't feel shy about doing this and tagging me. I am nosey and love to read and reblog about other people's OCs.

#I'm certain I've forgotten someone in the tags and I apologize #but I am super tired and don't wanna have this hold up another day in my drafts lol #please don't be shy on jumping on this esp if you're a mutual #tag game #coranzan

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dragonstoners · 1 year ago

Text

𝖆𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖓𝖔𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 | 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

18+ | Minors DO NOT INTERACT | Ageless blogs will be blocked

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: aemond targaryen x reader

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: canon-typical misogyny, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, toxic relationships

𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: f!reader, noble!reader, obsessive!aemond, toxic!aemond

⁃ it starts off strange, naturally. aemond’s way of showing interest is like a game of cyvasse, where you don’t know you’re playing until you’re losing.

⁃ he begins by throwing words like daggers, seeing which ones will stick, as well as which ones will miss. “courtesy is often the cloak of deceit,” he says one day as you pass by, eyes sharp, challenging you to disagree. you’re left pondering his intentions, unsure if this is disdain or a warning. you're not even sure he knows your name, but he's got his eye on you, that much is clear.

⁃ all of his tests are subtle at first, almost imperceptible… at least to everyone else. during a meeting including your house, he undercuts your suggestions with a smirk, “is that the best wisdom we can muster?” making you doubt your voice, your place. yet, when others join in the critique, his dissent stops, a silent barrier against the tide.

⁃ he starts to frequent areas of the red keep you're known to visit, under the guise of random meanderings or pressing royal duties. his presence is always pronounced, a storm cloud in a serene sky, yet he never directly acknowledges you unless absolutely necessary. when he does speak to you, his words are a mix of backhanded compliments and critiques designed to unsettle, to pull your attention and push you away all at once.

⁃ he tests the waters with questions that cut close to bone, speaking in riddles of his kin and house, gauging your reaction below a veneer of idle curiosity. "and what do you say of the whispers about my brother?" he asks, his gaze sharp, searching, every one of your words and expressions a stone in the foundation of this game he’s you’re both playing.

⁃ he’s watching, always, from the corners of rooms, from across courtyards, his gaze a heavy thing. you start to feel it, the weight of his attention, in every place you go. “you seem to find yourself in my path quite often,” he remarks, a statement that makes it seem less like coincidence and more like an invisible thread pulling you into his orbit.

⁃ at a court event, a bard mishandles a tale of your house’s valour, rendering it comically rather than heroic. while others laugh, aemond's eyes find yours across the room, his gaze sharp and assessing. later, you hear the bard has been given a generous sum to leave king's landing — and the realization that aemond might have been defending your honour, in his own convoluted way, leaves you bewildered.

⁃ only next, he's once again all about putting you in the spotlight for the wrong reasons. during a dinner, he casually asks if you truly believe in the tales of old valyria, making your opinion sound naive in front of everyone. it's like he enjoys seeing you squirm, but when you catch his gaze, there’s something else there, maybe respect?

⁃ after a particularly sharp exchange, you wander the quieter halls of the red keep, mulling over aemond’s pointed remarks. “is loyalty not our greatest virtue?” had left his lips with a smirk. his words had a sting, intended for you in a room full of eyes and whispers. it wasn’t just the comment but the public questioning of your loyalty that left a bitter taste. it’s the solitude afterwards that weighs heavily, making you question where the line between loyalty and a noose truly lies.

⁃ then, when you're about ready to write him off as a typical targaryen prince, toying with you for amusement and not much different from his elder brother, small things begin to happen. a finely-made bone comb appears amongst your things, no note, nothing to indicate it’s origins. it's truly beautiful, haunting almost. none of your household maids know where it has come from. you do not think about it again, until your maid casually notes the comb is in fact made of dragon-bone whilst she brushes out your hair one evening, and your heart drops.

⁃ when news reaches you of a lord questioning your place at court behind your back, nothing comes of it. no confrontation, no public defence. however, the lord's aspirations wither as if touched by frost; his allies turn away, his influence ebbs, and he is left to the cold mercy of court politics. you never explicitly see aemond act, but the timing is enough for you to know he is responsible.

⁃ the cloak follows, materialising on a chilly evening, draped over your chair, with no explanation. the craftsmanship is impeccable, finer than anything you’ve ever owned. it’s the colours that give him away – shimmering greenish blue with bronze detailing adorning the hood, unmistakably the colours of vhagar, etched into your memory from watching in wonder as aemond took her to the skies above the keep. when he sees you wrapped in the cloak, his smirk is a tell. "gevie," he mumbles, almost begrudgingly, before he’s speaking with a nearby lord as if you do not exist. (later, you discover he had said beautiful in high valyrian, after hours upon hours of scouring language books in the library.)

⁃ when you confront him about it later, his only response is a cryptic, “it suits you,” his eye glinting with something like satisfaction. the ambiguity of the comb was one thing, but the cloak is a statement. he sees it, you wearing it, as an unspoken acceptance of his claim, a mark of his territory, even if only known to him, and now you.

⁃ but even with the dragon-bone comb brushing along your scalp and the cloak wrapping you in its warmth, aemond’s tests don’t cease. they become more direct, more challenging. he questions your judgments, pushes you to defend your beliefs, each instance a gauntlet thrown at your feet. “prove me wrong,” he dares, and every time you rise to the challenge, it feels like a victory and a defeat, all at once.

⁃ his kinder actions aside, he's still a storm, a dragon at heart, unpredictable and restless. one moment, he's pushing you away with a cutting remark about how easily charmed you are by shiny things, the next, he's singling out anyone who dares speak lowly of you, though he'd never admit it's defence.

⁃ at a small gathering in the courtyard, a long-standing court noble sidles up to you, their voice low and laced with mock concern. “he’s got his eye on you, hasn’t he?” the words linger, unsettling in their ambiguity and specificity. you pause, the realization that your identity is becoming entwined with aemond’s reputation unsettling you. aemond has never hinted at any interest directly, nor publicly, yet his actions speak volumes, and, you realise in that moment, it’s not solely obvious to you anymore. soon after the incident, you find out that same noble has suddenly, unexpectedly, and without formal reason, returned to the seat of their house.

⁃ his idea of openly flirting with you? challenging you to a horse race when he falls into stride with you during a royal hunting trip in the kingswood, under the guise of proving your recklessness. "i believed you too fragile, my lady," he teases, goading you into proving him wrong once again. his singular attention on you, which is no longer lost on the court, is both infuriating and exciting.

⁃ challenging aemond becomes an unexpected thrill, not only during a ride but over a map of disputed borders laid out in the council chamber. “might there be room for diplomacy?” you suggest, the words hanging boldly between you. his look is sharp, a mix of annoyance and something vaguely resembling admiration. it’s a small victory, asserting your voice amidst the power plays of court.

⁃ at a feast, when you catch him observing from across the room, there’s a moment where the world narrows to just the two of you. later, as he escorts you to the far-side of the keep to your quarters (with his kingsguard and your maid as chaperones) he openly negs you about your taste in music, literature, the arts, but always in a way that demands a response, a defense. it’s exhausting, exhilarating, maddening.

⁃ the tension between public perception and private truths comes to a head when a rumor reaches you about aemond defending your honour in your absence, against a council member nonetheless, stirring a complex mix of emotions. confronting him leads to a terse exchange, “i can defend myself” you start, watching his reaction closely. his reply is noncommittal, a shrug that does little to clarify his intentions, leaving you to question the nature of his interest. it’s this dance of half-truths and veiled motivations that keeps you wary, even as court intrigue pulls you deeper.

⁃ but within weeks, at a ball, his behaviour is so uncharacteristic of his typical self-seriousness that it has prince aegon downright gleeful in his amusement, and queen alicent looks as if she’s seen a ghost. aemond is seen drinking, whispering with others, occasionally even laughing. however, his eye never strays far from you, always positioning himself where he could get to you if he so pleased. he dances and flirts with a handful of ladies other than you, but each step seems a performance, deliberate and pointed. later, he privately comments on how predictable such events are, subtly relishing in your sulky expression and stiff responses.

⁃ jealousy becomes a tool after that, a sharpened blade wielded with precision, but only ever at you. he’s seen in the company of the most eligible ladies of the court, only to cast them aside with a cold indifference as you approach. "mere court games," he scoffs when you question it, but the message is clear, and the music, testing the lengths of your interest.

⁃ if your gaze lingers on another, noble or common-born, their fortune subtly wanes and they suddenly seem… less. aemond doesn't openly compete; still, pieces move, fall and retreat in a carefully woven net of doubts and second guesses, a whisper here, a look there, enough to make rivals for your affection run for cover without a word spoken against them.

⁃ more gifts arrive, still with no indication of their sender, but layered with meaning; a book on war strategy with passages underlined and notes in the margin, a brooch echoing both the targaryen and hightower sigil, as well as a sapphire necklace that you do not understand the connection of, yet – each gift a tangible tether to him. aemond does not react when he sees you with his gifts, except for looking vaguely pleased with himself, which is hardly out of the ordinary. however, his grandsire otto does a double-take as you pass him in the hall whilst wearing the sapphire one, and soon after queen alicent is personally inviting you to ladies luncheons and visits to the sept with her pious entourage, rarely accepting your attempts to decline.

⁃ suddenly, your opinions, your insights become valuable to aemond. "what would you do?" he asks at point blank, unexpectedly. he is not simply testing your loyalty or competence anymore, but also making you a co-conspirator in his plans, a shared counsel that blurs the line between advisor and confidante, drawing you deeper into his web.

⁃ there are also more guards being stationed in the spaces you regularly inhabit, silent sentinels who only seem to materialise with your presence. a guard, often enough a kingsguard, is seemingly always readily available to escort you to wherever you wish to go, whenever you wish to go. that in itself is a privilege few ladies are afforded, if not a confirmation that this newfound surveillance protection is aemond’s doing.

⁃ even if you pretend not to, you don’t miss the way select servants follow you from one of your duties to the next under the pretence of cleaning spotless floors. more concerning are the shadows and faint footsteps that you notice on occasion. a silent assertion of his presence in your life, protective yet possessive. it’s there in the corridors you walk, the gardens you frequent, a reminder of his reach, his interest, a silent witness to your virtue and a deterrent to your vices.

⁃ the isolation comes gradually. “they do not see you, not truly,” aemond whispers during a stolen moment, his surprisingly warm fingers grazing your cheek. these days, he casts doubt on the intentions of those around you, proudly and indiscriminately. it’s a not-so subtle tug away from the crowd, toward him, towards his house, towards the brewing civil war, and the frightening thing is, it works. he had spun a web, complex and suffocating, around you deftly, and you had not seen the delicate strands until it was too late; you find yourself seeking his company, his approval, even as you bristle at his methods.

⁃ so when he corners you under the cover of moonlight, asking, “what is it you want?” it feels like the culmination of a long, intricate dance. it’s a challenge, a confession, a turning point. his question isn’t just about desire; it’s about allegiance, about choosing sides in a game you never agreed to play. the gifts, the challenges, the protection, the whispers, the barbed words — all of it binds you to him in a way that’s impossible to ignore. and you realise, with a mix of dread and fascination, that you’re too entangled to simply walk away.

𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖘 © do not copy, repost or translate my works without my permission

thank you for reading – feedback and requests are welcome x

→ 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖆 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 🕊️

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x noble!reader

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yukidragon · 3 months ago

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Okay question for the queen of ideas and the mother of the Snaccpop fandom. I had started making an au for SDJ based off the song Fall little Wendy Bird Fall, by Lydia the bard, and even came up with a backstory similar to the whole song. I had been a little nervous to ask but how would Alice live in this kind of au? Recently Lydia came out with the sequel to the song, Take the shot. So. If you give those songs a listen you can get the gist of my idea. Jo is captain hook, jack is Peter pan/tink!

I'm so honored and overwhelmed by being given such grand titles. You're so sweet!💕

I think mixing these two concepts together is really creative. I just love your design for Jack as a mixture of Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. He looks so menacing yet whimsical, which really matches the world that the songs create.

By the way, here's the links to both of the songs and animatics. I highly recommend giving them a watch if you haven't seen them yet. They're really such bangers with great visuals. I can't tell you how many times I've listened to the first song on repeat, and now I'm doing it again with the second.

youtube

Content Warning: The animatics contain violence against children, murder of a child, toxic relationships, trauma, and emotional manipulation. This post will touch on those themes as well as chronic illness, terminal illness, body horror, childhood abuse, and the Adults Only yandere horror and mature themes present in Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack and Sunshine in Hell.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

It's really interesting how Lydia the Bard takes elements of the original book and the various tales Disney has told about Peter Pan and Tinkerbell to make such a compelling world. I just love what was done with the story. It's a huge improvement over the original novel in my humble opinion.

In this world, fairies are born from a baby's first laugh and live only as long as the human that created them continues to believe in fairies. If the belief disappears, they die. You can really understand why Tinkerbell and the fairies have gone to such lengths due to how fragile their existence is.

The most human monsters are the ones with a motivation that you can understand and even sympathize with, even if you don't agree with what they're doing. It's truly horrifying what lengths a person might go if pushed to their breaking point.

Really, I'd argue that these these fairies have quite a few things in common with Jack. He's tied to the the love his sunshine has for him. He also exists hanging from the fragile thread of belief, and that desperate desire to survive has the potential to drive him to do truly terrible things. He's also close to human, but not quite, and he also has supernatural powers that have yet to truly be unleashed.

Assigning the Roles

So you want to know how I would combine Sunshine in Hell with the Tinkerbell Villain Song series into an AU? Hmm... that might be a bit of a challenge, but I'll take a crack at it!

While I really like the idea of Joseph being Captain Hook and Jack being a combination of Peter and Tinkerbell, I'm more inclined to think that MC fits the role of Peter Pan better in a lot of ways when using the songs as a general guide. Just change Tinkerbell's role from a false mother for the children she kidnapped to one of a yandere keeping his lover someplace they will never leave.

This isn't to discourage your take on blending these characters in your story in any way. I think your ideas sound like a lot of fun! Having an MC torn between Peter Pan/Tinkerbell/Jack and Captain Hook/Joseph would be a delightfully spicy love triangle, with plenty of opportunities for complicated emotions and yandere horror from both. I'm really curious to see what you do with the story.

All that's to say that I'm treating mashing these different stories together as a writing prompt and letting the ideas that the resulting collision sparks drag me off in whatever direction it takes me. Where will I go with this post? Nobody knows, not even me, but I hope you enjoy the ride.

Anyway, getting back to my thoughts about blending the stories together and who might best fit which role...

Tinkerbell is bound to Peter Pan and his belief in fairies, and she'll keep him locked up in a fantasy world to forever play pretend in order to survive. Jack is likewise creating a fantasy life for MC, distracting them from the real world to focus only on their love for him. He wants to take care of MC, and Tinkerbell put herself in the role of caregiver for Peter.

Jack and Tinkerbell won't allow anyone to destroy this fragile life they've built or steal away the one person they love and need more than anyone else.

What's also fitting is how torn Peter is about taking out Tinkerbell despite everything she's done. MC doesn't want to let go of Jack either, and the idea of him disappearing is devastating to them.

Then of course there's Alice's feelings on the matter and whether she fits in the role of Peter. Really, her personality is closest to Wendy's.

Then again, Peter Pan's personality is pretty... ehhh, not Jack. Same with Tinkerbell. Or any of the characters really. Jack is pretty one of a kind after all. So let's not worry about personality and just focus on narrative parallels and general vibes for now.

It's also possible to argue that Joseph as Peter Pan and Jack as Tinkerbell is also fitting. Jack is a persona that Joseph created, much like how fairies are created by human babies and forever connected to that child. Jack and Joseph are forever connected whether they like it or not.

Heck, the aspect of fairies being created by a baby's first laugh is fitting with this comparison. Jack is a clown, and clowns are supposed to make people laugh. I can imagine the actors being tied to fairies that look like their clown counterparts from the SunnyTime Crew Show.

Shifting tracks a bit... I'm reminded of a theory I once heard about Captain Hook representing adulthood encroaching on Neverland, which the eternal child Peter Pan would defeat time after time. In this way, his childhood games never end and the world of adulthood won't ever force him to grow up.

Joseph being Captain Hook while Jack is Peter Pan would be fitting with that sort of comparison. These characters would be reflections of each other. Hell, with both of them looking identical, it'd fit in with a theory I heard that Hook used to be a Lost Boy before Peter ever came to Neverland. In that sense, Peter is Hook's replacement.

Of course, this theory doesn't really fit in with the story we see play out in the animatics. Tinkerbell needs Peter to live, not Hook, so he's not replacing anyone. She's trapped a child in an eternal dream of childhood so that he remains innocent, ignorant, and pliable to her will. It's a chilling story of a person kidnapping a child to become the role of his mother and keep him for herself forever.

The themes of childhood and adulthood that are such a big part of the story of Peter Pan would be symbolic rather than literal when mixing it with the story of Sunny Day Jack. The main characters aren't going to be eternal children, but fully grown adults solidly in their mid-twenties. I mean it is an adults only story after all. I'm not letting children anywhere near the hanky panky.

There are heavy themes of nostalgia in Sunny Day Jack. Nostalgia is something we can't help but seek out, and we risk being chained down by it. I can see those themes working well with the themes of childhood innocence in conflict with the harshness of the adult world and how even as adults we can still cling to the comfortable familiarly and simplicity of childhood. MC can't let go of Ian, who they've known since the first grade in the game after all. In many ways, Ian and the relationship they had represents childhood, nostalgia, and simpler times.

Heh, imagine Jack as Tinkerbell, MC as Peter Pan, and Ian as Wendy. Or, really, any of the other love interests. No matter who is Wendy's role better grow some wings real fast...

All these possibilities and thematic similarities might be the crux of why I keep going in circles about the roles in this ramble. Tinkerbell has the yandere vibes that fit Jack, but Peter Pan also fits Jack because he whisks Wendy off to a magical land of adventure. However, in the story of Tinkerbell as the villain, Peter is one of her victims too, just like Wendy.

Hmm... this makes me think about how Nick was attacked by Jack, and how Jack seemed so shaken up by Shaun's appearance. Wendy can be any or all of the love interests. Her role could potentially be divided between the three of them. Hell, Wendy has two brothers, so the three Darling siblings could be good roles for all three love interests.

MC just has to spend time with other people, don't they. They can't just stay in Neverland where it's safe and always happy and be satisfied with only Jack, no, no. This is a world made just for them, so how is it not enough? Everything they ever wanted is here in this magical land of fantasy! Jack was being generous letting them go off and bring in other people to play in their world for a little while, but now MC wants to leave? Forever!?

Jack can't allow that.

So in this case, Wendy would be whatever love interest MC has fallen in love with that isn't Jack. Shaun, Ian, or Nick fit the role.

Pffffffffffff, I just got this hilarious thought of Barry as Captain Hook. I mean, if MC is Peter Pan, then the "daily grind" they have to deal with constantly is battling the pirates. Jack does try to help make their job more fun, which fits Tinkerbell's whole making everything into one big eternal adventure game for Peter to play.

Hmm... yeah, I think I like the vibes of this setup, so let's run with it. Here's the roles as I see them so far:

Tinkerbell: Jack

Peter Pan: MC

Wendy John, and Michael Darling: Shaun, Ian, and Nick.

Captain Hook: Barry

Mr. Smee: Carol

I know I mashed the Darlings together along with the other three love interests, but I figure since Wendy's role would be whichever love interest the MC chooses instead of Jack. In that sense, they're technically interchangeable for these roles until the MC chooses to pick a Wendy.

Though if I was to decide solidly who is who when casting the roles on just vibes alone...

Shaun gets the role of Wendy. He's important to MC and brings them out of the little fantasy world they were in after they slept with Jack. He's someone they care about deeply already and have some skinship going on with hugs and ear scritches. His presence is refreshing in their life. He's the closest person to them right now after the breakup with Ian.

So I suppose then that Ian would be John, as the second Darling child, and the youngest Michael would be Nick, as Nick was the last love interest to be added. Not much in the way of vibes, I know, but we'll just have to take what we can get. As I said before, they could be easily swapped around in these three roles.

Another way to go could be to make all the love interests Lost Boys, with Jack being Peter Pan, and we have MC as Wendy torn between them in typical dating sim style. Though that might be best left for a mashup between SDJ and vanilla Peter Pan. The Villain Tinkerbell story has decidedly changed a number of very important elements after all.

What role might Joseph have then if I was to give him one separate from Jack? Periwinkle, Tinkerbell's twin sister who is thus also tied to Peter Pan. We even get to see a cameo of her in the second song animatic, even if we don't see her wreaking havoc with her sister.

Adding Periwinkle to the mix with Tinkerbell fits thematically with the way Jack has divided his sense of self into Joseph and Sunny Day Jack. Granted, this is more of a division of identity than becoming two entirely separate people, but it fits the vibes.

Jack and Joseph aren't so separate that they're actually two different people altogether. In Sunshine in Hell, Joseph's personality bleeds all throughout Jack. He's wearing the mask of Sunny Day Jack and trying desperately to live the part. He knows all the SunnyTime Crew Show canon and has lost himself to the role, but all actors, consciously or not, weave themselves into the character they play.

Jack is a mixture of Joseph Cullman and Sunny Day Jack, whether he wants to admit it or not.

Soooooo... unless I want to go the route that he divided himself in two to banish Joseph from himself for good or something like that and eventually merges back into one after learning to accept himself... I don't think Joseph should have a separate role from Jack, at least not when we're talking about using Sunshine in Hell's continuity for this crossover AU.

Joseph and Sunny Day Jack are two aspects of Jack, so this poor mixed up man is sticking with one role to play, which is of a yandere fairy desperate to keep his sunshine. Forever.

Huh. A thought just struck me that further cements Jack in the role of Tinkerbell. Remember the post I made about the issues Jack has with death and how the idea of his sunshine growing old and dying will trigger his trauma? I'm sure he'd consider taking a page from this fairy's playbook by whisking MC off to land where they'll never grow old and die.

Well, now that I've settled the broad strokes of who gets what basic role, I think it's time to start narrowing our scope a bit. The characters might be cast in certain roles, but they each have their own distinct personalities that will change how the story unfolds. The choices they make can lead to good things happening, or a Bad End.

We also need to set the stage a bit in order to understand this world a little better.

Creating Neverland

The choices Alice makes aren't going to apply to most MCs. I mean heck, if she has the role of Peter Pan, she's picking her Tinkerbell Jack rather than Wendy. You all know by now that Alice and Jack are my OTP. She's going to choose to stay with him rather than run away with someone else.

This gives me a thought... Okay, now hear me out. What if the connection between fairies and humans is that they are soulmates?

Remember when I talked about how soulmates work in the Omegaverse AU? Soulmates in that universe share their strengths, pain, and pleasure. If one of them dies, the other will as well.

Yes, yes, I know the crux of the conflict in the animatic is that the fairies can die if their human stops believing, but I'm pretty sure that if Peter Pan died, Tinkerbell would too. Likewise I'd argue that Peter isn't going to survive in Neverland without Tinkerbell and her magic. Not to mention we don't know what might happen to a human who still believes in fairies when their fairy is murdered. The magical connection between them is still active at the time after all...

If the magic can create life, then it might be able to take it away just as easily.

Regardless of how it works in the song universe, we're talking about an alternate universe here, one that mashes in a few other stories with their own rules to how things work. Plus whatever vibes I feel the setting. I think we can be pretty free to do whatever we want here. As we should when writing our own stories. ;3

Really, it's interesting to think of how the fairy tied to their human child would technically be a little younger than them. After all, the baby has to be old enough to have their first laugh. Despite this, fairies appear to be created fully grown, which is how Tinkerbell could take the place of Peter Pan's real mother.

I'm not cool with the implications this sort of mother/child dynamic would have on any sort of romance between the pair, even a yandere one, so this is another detail I'm going to tweak. I'm going to say that fairies age at the same rate as the human that they're connected to. Jack and Alice are basically the same age mentally and physically.

The fairies aren't born beside the baby whose laugh brought them into the world. Instead, when a new fairy is born, it's in their homeland of Neverland, specifically Pixie Hollow. The older fairies communally raise the newborn fairy since they can't reproduce on their own and thus there's no direct bond of parent and child. Jack was no different than any other fairy in this regard.

Soulmates don't necessarily involve just two parties. Much like the example of Periwinkle, Tinkerbell, and Peter Pan, sometimes there is more than one fairy tied to a single human. The reverse can happen as well, when a fairy isn't created until all the humans they are bound to have their first laugh.

So, yes, polycule soulmates can happen in this universe. They're much more rare than pairs, but they do happen sometimes. While I won't be dividing Jack and Joseph into two people, the option is there for those who want to explore it~

The life of a fairy is often very short and getting shorter with each passing generation. Growing cynicism and lack of belief in all things magic among humans shortens how long a child might believe in in the existence fairies. Living a long life as a fairy is painfully rare in the present day.

Not every human can create a fairy, otherwise there would be hundreds of thousands of fairies born every single day given how many human babies are born daily. A human doesn't have to know of the existence of fairies to create one, as a baby wouldn't know what a fairy is when they laugh for the first time. It's theorized among fairy scholars that by being soulmates with a fairy, the human has a natural subconscious belief in them, as well as their own form of magic that they can't consciously access. The creation of fairies is a mysterious miracle that not even they truly understand even after centuries of research and experimentation.

As you might expect, the fairies have a vested interest in understanding how this magic that keeps them alive works when each generation's lifespan is shorter than the last.

Centuries ago, humans and fairies intermingled across the world. It was only natural, given that they are literal soulmates. Long ago a fairy would seek out their human and they would live together happily. The bond they had was special, sacred, and full of love. They completed each other.

Unfortunately, there was no shortage of those who would covet the magic of fairies for themselves. Humans have always outnumbered the fairies, even when belief in fairies and magic was strong. Though humans didn't have magic, they learned ways they could trap or trick a fairy to exploit them. Worst of all, the humans learned how to use the fairies' own pixie dust against them. The power of pixie dust alone was incentive enough to capture, torture, enslave, and even butcher such magical tiny beings. Every part of a fairy's body had magic to it as well and could be used as a potent ingredient for some brew, medicine, or hex.

This forced fairies to go into hiding, even if it meant leaving their human soulmate behind or never finding them to begin with. Unfortunately, these greedy humans were relentless, constantly hunting the fairies down no matter where they hid. They blackmailed and tortured the fairies' human partners in order to get their fairy soulmates.

Finally, in desperation the fairies banded together in a mssive undertaking, pooling an unimaginable amount of pixie dust and other magics together to create a safe haven far, far across the sea they came to call Neverland. It would be an impossible island to find unless someone knew to follow a specific star, as Neverland exists in a space that isn't really on any maps due to magic.

The fairies didn't go to Neverland alone, as they brought allies they could still trust along with them, which consisted mostly of other magical creatures like mermaids. Some fairies insisted on bringing their human partners as well, though was severe resistance to the idea. Understandably, even though fairies are tied so intimately with humans, most were resentful, wary, and afraid of all humans after all the cruelty they suffered. Even soulmates were seen with suspicion, especially when there were rumors that some soulmates betrayed their fairies.

Despite the pushback, a small number of humans were brought to Neverland, but only those bound to fairies who could be even remotely trusted. The pockets of human settlements in Neverland the present day, including the pirates, are the descendants of those original humans and the rare human a fairy would bring in later on from the outside world.

Fun fact: even in the original novel, people did age in Neverland. Lost Boys grew up and left, and even Tinkerbell had passed away well before the end of the novel. Only Peter Pan seems to be immune to the affects of aging and death.

Of course, the Disney movie/shows and the animatics play with different rules than the novel, but who stays an eternal child still seems to be selective. Either way, I'm changing the rules again since no one is staying a child forever in this AU.

I'm just going to say that because Neverland itself is made from the magic of countless fairies, the land itself will nourish and heal them. A fairy's body is eternally replenished as long as they remain in Neverland. This means that while they grow up at a normal rate, they more or less stop aging when their bodies are at peak health. Old age is more or less just the body slowly breaking down after all. This means that the fairies become immune from the affects of old age while in Neverland.

This applies to their soulmates as well due to them being connected to that same magic.

Of course, just because a human or fairy won't die of old age in Neverland doesn't mean that they can't be killed. They have a much greater resistance against death in Neverland and can take a lot of punishment there, but healing magic doesn't make them invincible. The pirates are a very real and constant threat, as are dangerous creatures like the crocodile.

Neverland was created to be a safe haven, but that doesn't make it a perfect paradise.

Hundreds of years of history pass, and for the majority of the fairies have given up on finding their human soulmates. Only a small percentage fairies in each generation have been brave enough to travel back to the human world even attempt to find them among the ever growing sea of humans.

A strong resentment towards humans among the fairies still lingers to this day, exasperated by the bloodthirsty pirate attacks and their ever dwindling life expectancy as belief in magic slowly dies out in the human world. With so many fairies dying without their human soulmate ever even knowing they even existed, the sentiment that the bond between them as sacred has mostly soured.

Not all fairies feel this way of course. Though an elder fairy is rare, they still exist. Not that you would realize they're a hundred or two years old, as they still appear to be in their prime. Despite the growing cynicism among the fairy population towards humanity as a whole, these unions between a fairy and their human that still hold up strong even to the present day serve to spark dreams and hope of love, completeness, and a long life in young fairies.

Jack was one such young fairy who believed in the love of his soulmate. He was absolutely certain that, whoever they were, they would be everything he could ever ask for and more.

However, there are many fairies that want to detach themselves from humanity entirely. To many, the bond between them and humans are shackles keeping them enslaved to the whims of human children.

Just like the humans experimented with fairy magic long ago, the fairies did their own experiments with pixie dust, humans, and other creatures. Countless medicines and treatments have been tried to varying degrees of success to keep a fairy alive even after the belief in them has died.

The fairies haven't found a magical cure to their plight, as no treatment comes without side-effects. A particular blend of pixie dust, human blood, and other varying ingredients is the most effective medicine they have to date, but prolonged usage after the bond between them and their soulmate is severed has led to crack-like scars that glow from beneath the skin. The treatment is hard on a fairy's body, and it must be taken regularly or they risk their body falling apart. Often the exact proportions of ingredients need to be adjusted in order to properly attune with that particular type of fairy's magic.

Elder fairies who need to use these treatments to stay alive often are extremely envious of the fairies who have their human soulmate with them in Neverland. They're prone to letting their bitterness show when teaching the younger fairies to be distrustful of humans in general. It also wasn't unheard of for a fairy who is only surviving on the medicine to take out their anger on another fairy's soulmate in a misdirected form of revenge for being abandoned by their human.

This leads to different factions among the fairies and arguments spring up among the elder fairies. Those rare few who still have their soulmate humans by their side are especially protective of them, even against other fairies, and are much more prone to going yandere in order to keep them safe.

Now that we have the foundation of the worldbuilding more or less set, let's start fitting our characters into this unique version of Neverland.

Alice in Neverland

As the animatic and the many, many spinoffs Disney produced have shown, there's quite a number of fairies in this world. It makes sense since the human population numbers in the billions. If even 0.0001% of those billions of humans created a fairy when they were a baby, that means there's a fair amount of fairies populating Pixie Hollow. Compared to the human population, the fairies are miniscule in number, but you might not think it if you only ever lived in Neverland.

I got to thinking then about what other characters could be fairies. Tinkerbell didn't act alone in the animatic, and she did want to save all her friends. If Jack is in her shoes, then perhaps he needs some fairy friends of his own.

Naturally, my first thought was the SunnyTime Crew. I mean, SunnyTime Town AU with fairies? Sounds fun to me. However, given that fairies would be very prone to becoming yandere in this sort of universe, I think we can go one step further and add a few more yanderes to the mix.

Bo and Elias are also fairies. Bam! Bet you didn't expect this AU to become a crossover, did you?

Well... if you read the tags you did, I suppose, but shush on that detail. I thought of the crossover only now as I'm writing this, and I'm adding in the tags as I go along.

Okay, yes, Elias isn't really a yandere, even if he has the potential. Not all fairies go yandere after all.

As you might expect, Bo's soulmate is Barbie and Elias' is Coraline. While this might strengthen the idea of Alice being cast in the role of Wendy instead of Peter Pan, since we have three siblings coming to Neverland in the original/Disney stories, but I'm giving the formula and the King family a bit of a twist here here.

Lycoris is a fairy as well, one of the rare few elder fairies living in Neverland with her soulmate Ambrose. They don't have biological children of their own in this AU, but they've become like parents to many generations of fairy children. Their love story has been a source of hope for many young fairies hoping to one day find their soulmate, such as Jack.

The pair are also targets for scorn among the fairies embittered by humans and the bond that is supposed to sustain them. Lycoris and Ambrose no longer live in Pixie Hollow itself, but a little ways outside the village due to various conflicts over the centuries. While Lycoris still visits often to help take care of young fairies (and remind her rivals not to cross her or touch her soulmate), Ambrose rarely stops by Pixie Hollow anymore himself to not stir up old resentments.

Lycoris is respected and admired among the fairies, even if she's still got her fair share of enemies among the other elders. There's been rumors that when a fairy tried to harm Ambrose, she didn't hesitate to kill them and ground their body up into pixie dust. Although Lycoris is a warm and loving motherly matron among the fairies, she won't shy away from a fight when protecting someone she loves.

Jack admired Lycoris and Ambrose's love story since he was very young, as well as the love stories of other fairies and their soulmates. Still, he wasn't blind to the sad reality of their situation. No fairy can be ignorant for long when death can come for them so young without any warning.

Few braved traveling to the human world to find their soulmate while their human still believed in fairies. The need to travel to the human world came ever younger with each generation. Often times that belief would die before they were prepared enough to risk the trip. Expeditions did happen fairly regularly by those brave enough to try, but it's hard to find one human among billions. Sometimes fairies never made it back to Neverland...

The expeditions weren't necessarily a complete success either. Often times the fairies would find their soulmate, but that human wouldn't want to leave their home. Some fairies compromised by regularly visiting them. If nothing else, these visits would remind their human of their existence and ensure that their belief in fairies never dies.

At least... not until the human does. When a human dies while believing in fairies, the results can be especially devastating to the fairy.

Jack couldn't stand waiting, despite the danger and discouragement of older fairies. Even as a young child he realized that the longer he waited until he was "ready" for the journey, the greater the chance that his soulmate would stop believing in him.

The last thing Jack wanted was to be forgotten.

Recklessly, Jack ran away, or rather flew away. He went to the human world ill prepared for what he was to find there. He saw aspects of humanity that made showed him that the cautionary stories he had been told all his life were not just fairy tales. Only when he was left alone to fend for himself in the human world did the danger become real to him.

Despite the dangers of the human world and many harrowing situations he went through, Jack refused to return to Neverland, not until he found his soulmate. He learned how to survive on his own, how to use violence if the need called for it. The human world jaded him, but he never let go of that desperate hope he would find the person who would love him more than anyone else in the world.

Lycoris and Ambrose's love story was a source of inspiration for fairies, and that in and of itself was something other fairies criticized. What they had was so rare that some argued that it gave all fairies, especially the young ones, false hope.

Fairies like Jack running away alone and ill prepared to the human to possibly never return was just one such consequence of that hope.

It wasn't just the humans who were growing more cynical as the years and generations went by.

Jack's tale might have ended as just another tragedy, but fate and his sunshine intervened.

Tracking a soulmate isn't easy in such a massive world where magic is absent. The human world feels dead to young fairies who have only lived in Neverland. Neverland is practically a different world from the one they left centuries ago. Magic is in the land, the water, and the very air they breathe. The human world is barren like a desolate desert or the Antarctic in comparison to their homeland. Over the centuries the human world has become a world wholly inhospitable to magical creatures.

Still, Jack persevered. Reckless and stubborn, he followed that thin thread that connected him to his soulmate. So many times he considered going back. This world was so big and cold. He was lost and overlooked by these countless giants filling it that he constantly had to hide from. He was almost run over or crushed, injured by various alien human-made technologies and got into dangerous battles with wild animals. Fairies had tamed the animals of Neverland for companionship and domestication. Jack was used to even large animals being friendly to fairies, so he was shocked to find that the ones in the human world saw little creatures like him only as a potential meal. Securing food and shelter was a constant worry for the young headstrong fairy, as was the gnawing loneliness.

It was when Jack had hidden in an old wooden box, starving, wounded, cold, and so very alone, that Alice found him.

Alice didn't have the best life in this AU. As you might expect, she didn't have Lycoris and Ambrose aren't her birth parents in this world. Although her name isn't Mary, she was born a Phoenix instead of a King in this world, with neglectful parents who cared far more for their son than their daughter.

It was difficult for Alice to connect with other people. She had a hard time due to being pretty nonverbal as a kid. Sadly, the Phoenix matriarch and patriarch didn't bother with getting her therapy or a puppet like Honey Bunny to help her to find her voice.

The only friend Alice could make was a boy who was just as lonely as she was. Ian didn't mind that Alice had a hard time talking. He was used to being silenced by his mom. They could just smile at each other and quiet play games at recess that didn't require much conversation.

Sadly, playdates after school weren't happening. It was too much trouble for the Phoenix parents to bother with, and Karen wasn't going to help her son get close to any girl. It was her duty to keep her son from being tempted by sin after all.

This left Alice at home when she wasn't at school. The backyard was practically the entirety of her world, and she spent countless afternoons pretending that it was a magical land full of wonderous sights and creatures. She decorated the yard with bundled sticks and painted stones that she arranged into landmarks she named like Unicorn Hills and the Rainbow River.

Her parents didn't care about what their daughter got up to on her own as long as Alice cleaned up her "mess" before bed. She was expected to clean up after herself and finish all her chores every single day without fail, no matter how long it took her. If she had to stay up until midnight, then so be it.

When not in use, Alice kept her treasures in an old wooden box she lovingly decorated with crayon and paint, tucked safely away in some overgrown rose bushes. It was the only place where Ezekiel wouldn't dig around in to mess with her things due to all the thorns and flowers. The thought that messing with girly things like flowers was the worst thing in the world to a boy like him who was repulsed by pink and cooties.

It was when Alice went to retrieve her box of treasures for an afternoon of fantasy that she discovered something beyond her wildest dreams.

The sight of a real, living fairy curled up with her things shocked and delighted Alice... until she noticed the poor thing was shaking and her baby blanket that he huddled in desperately for warmth was stained in red.

Alice gently scooped Jack up with the blanket and brought him into the house. Fortunately for her, her parents had taken Ezekiel out to a game, or maybe dinner or to hang out with his friends? They didn't really bother to specify anymore, just that they'd be gone and she was on her own for dinner. For once, she was grateful for their absence, as she was worried what they might do or say about the fairy. What if they forced her to abandon the poor thing like they did with that stray cat that she snuck in to get out of the rain?

Jack woke up to the sting of peroxide on his wound and, understandably, he was alarmed by the unknown human looming before him. He bolted away and got in a defensive stance while Alice backed up and raised her hands with open palms splayed as if she had been caught doing something wrong.

When their eyes met, there was a spark there, something powerful and important. Jack knew, he just knew that this human child before him was his soulmate. Alice didn't identify the feeling as anything more than further excitement and concern for the little fairy, but the moment still struck her as important.

Jack was so relieved. After everything he had gone through, he finally succeeded. He finally found his soulmate... his sunshine. She was just as bright and beautiful and kind as he always knew that she would be.

Alice still struggled to speak beyond giving her name, but Jack had no problem filling the silences. He introduced herself and told her all about Neverland and all the adventures he went through just to find her. She hung on every word, only interrupting him to finish treating his injuries and get him the first real meal that wasn't scrounged scraps since he left Pixie Hollow.

Although only a little recovered from his ordeal, Jack didn't want to waste anymore time. He did his best to convince Alice to come back with him to Neverland. It was so much better than this awful, dangerous place, full of fun things to do and see.

Oh sure Neverland had its dangers too, but Jack knew better than to mention that just yet.

Alice was hesitant, since she wasn't allowed to leave the house. Her parents would scold her, punish her.

Alice squirmed in place, her eyes nervously darting in the direction of the front door. "Mum and Da... they'll be mad."

Jack smiled, brimming with confidence. "Well, then we better leave before they get back."

Despite the difficulty Alice had conveying her worries to Jack, he didn't get frustrated with her fragmented sentences and incomplete thoughts. He learned all about how reluctant humans are to leave their home and family behind, and he was prepared. He had spent many hours planning just what to say to convince his sunshine to come with him.

After everything Jack went through to get this far, a little white lie was nothing.

"Don't worry, we'll be back before they know you were even gone."

Needless to say, they never came back to that house.

It wasn't all that hard for Jack to convince Alice to leave, all things considered. Her parents and brother left her alone all the time, so why shouldn't she do the same? She couldn't pass up the opportunity to have a real adventure with magic and fairies.

When Jack told Alice that with his help she would be able to fly, there was no keeping her there, no matter what punishment she might face later.

The thrill of flight was better than anything Alice experienced before. It gave her a sense of freedom that her life lacked until that point. She couldn't help but laugh and even crowed in delight as she and Jack dipped, dived, and danced together across the night sky.

Neverland was everything Jack promised and more. The other fairies were not just shocked that he came back alive after so long, but that he brought his soulmate with him. Though many fairies were wary of her presence, there were plenty who welcomed her arrival.

Alice was the first human brought to Neverland in several years. Her presence reignited the hope among the fairies, which only grew stronger the longer she chose to stay.

Although Alice did occasionally miss her family and felt the sting of guilt from leaving them behind, these negative feelings nothing compared to the wonder and joy she found in Neverland. A magical land where she could play all day with fairy friends who understood her was like a dream she didn't want to wake up from.

Besides, Jack did a good job of distracting her from any sad thoughts. Whenever he noticed Alice starting to get moody or lost in her thoughts, he always managed to find something to catch her interest or soothe her worries.

Alice learned to open up more during her time in Neverland. She blossomed like a flower that finally had been given sunlight for the first time. She became more outgoing, energetic, and bold. She was adventurous and even a bit wild, learning to unapologetically express herself and enjoy what made her happy.

Jack helped her bloom, unlike her parents.

Lycoris took it upon herself to mother Alice, and Ambrose became like a father to her, helping her get used to being a human among fairies. In time, they became her parents by bond rather than blood. They were far better parents to her than Mr. and Mrs. Phoenix ever were.

Yes, in a way she was reborn from being a Phoenix like Mary was to find a loving new family.

Much like in the canon universe, Alice was only the start of this family. After Jack's success, other young fairies were galvanized to find their soulmates. Bo was especially incensed. He and Jack were good friends, and he was pissed when Jack ran away without a word to anyone, especially him. Jealousy was added on top of this after learning that his friend went on a grand adventure and brought back his soulmate. The very nerve! Jack should have brought Bo along to find his soulmate too!

Bo wanted to run off and do the same as Jack, but the older fairies weren't going to let the young ones rush recklessly off into danger if they could help it. Jack might have been successful in his mission, but he had more than one close call.

Still, not the harrowing tales of what his friend went through were enough to deter Bo from trying. Knowing what Jack had to face wasn't about to hold him back from demanding that help him to make up for leaving him behind before.

After Alice got settled in Neverland, she learned a bit about the bond fairies had with their human. Knowing that she and Jack had this special bond in turn made her feel special. She didn't fully understand everything due to her young age, especially since she wasn't told everything about the fairies' dire situation, but she understood that he would be her best friend forever.

Alice also understood that the other fairies needed their partners too, and she wanted to help.

Jack didn't intend to bring Alice along when he and Bo planned to sneak away from Neverland. He only let her know that he was leaving so that she wouldn't worry about him while he was gone. Plus a shameless part of him kind of wanted to hear her tell him that she wanted him to say or that she'd miss him. He didn't really want to be parted from her, but he wanted to help Bo.

Jack might have found his sunshine, but that didn't rid him of his fear of losing his friends. The threat of death still loomed over every fairy who still didn't find their soulmate and bring them safely to Neverland.

Alice surprised Jack when she insisted on coming with him. He was reluctant at first, of course, afraid that she might decide to go back home even though she was so happy in Neverland.

It was when Alice expressed that she didn't want Jack to get hurt again and that she didn't want to be separated from him that his resolve melted.

The three children came up with a clever plan to sneak off on their own, but they didn't expect Lycoris to see through it. Fortunately, rather than snitching on them and ruining everything when she caught them, instead she insisted that she was coming along to help keep them safe.

Although Bo was determined and had help on his quest, the fairies were out of their depth when it came to the ways of the human world. Fortunately between Lycoris' wisdom, Jack's prior experiences, and Alice's knowledge of how human society worked, they were able to make the journey unscathed.

Eventually, with Bo leading the way, they came across a feisty little girl.

Barbie was someone deemed as a problem child, with guardians who were an even bigger problem than she was. The less said about her home life the better. She was only too happy to leave her broken home behind with a group of fairies and a strange but kind girl.

This was the start of something big for Neverland. It was also the start of a group known as the Lost Kids. It was a name Alice came up with for herself and the other human children. Her logic was that they were always meant to be in Neverland, since they are the most important people in the world to their fairies. They were just "lost" in the human world until they could be found and brought home to Neverland.

As you might be guessing, the rest of the Lost Kids include all of the children who would be Alice's siblings in the regular canon. Coraline was found next, then Jem, and so on.

Like Peter Pan and Tinkerbell going on trips to the human world parodically and bring back more Lost Boys, Alice and Jack would go to help bring back the Lost Kids. She enthusiastically embraced this quest to help find every fairy's human partner and acted both like an older sibling and leader to the other children. She played a big part in convincing the children to leave their homes for a land of magic and adventure.

When the Lost Kids grow up, they gain a different name, one a bit more unsettling to her in retrospect - the Lost Ones.

The success of more lost children coming and happily staying in Neverland galvanized the fairies like never before. Jack especially felt good. He was a hero. So many of the fairies looked up to him, and admiration for him only grew as he and Alice brought back more soulmates to Neverland.

It was addicting to be so loved and needed by so many people. It was also a heavy burden to bear.

As Jack grew, he had a better sense of the weight of his responsibilities. Though he tried his best to lead as many expeditions as possible with the help of his sunshine, it never felt like enough. There were too many fairies who needed his help. Too many of his friends suffered and died before their soulmate could be found.

Living With Death

Although Coraline was the third Lost Kid found and brought to Neverland, she almost never made it. Her health was fragile, and a near death almost ended not only her life Elias' as well.

When a fairy dies because of the death of their soulmate or from lack of belief, they break down, crumbling away to pixie dust.

Before Coraline was found, her heart had stopped beating due to cardiac arrest. Although doctors managed to restart her heart and revive her, for a full minute she was by all accounts dead.

That minute couldn't have happened at a worse moment for Elias.

Another fairy by the name of Violet had gotten into a fight with Elias. She and her brother Gerald attacked him to steal some treasures he possessed. With a single knife and a terrible moment of opportunity and chance, she sliced off Elias' head when his body started to break down from Coraline's brief interlude with death.

Fairies have been fighting with death for centuries. They've worked hard to come up with a way to sustain themselves even without the belief of their human soulmate. When a fairy is born now, they are given regular treatment all throughout their life with certain magics and medicines. This is with the hope to keep them alive just a little longer should they suddenly find themselves alone when their human stops believing in them. It buys them time to be found so that they can treated and hopefully survive the loss.

It was thanks to these medicines, Coraline's revival, and the healing properties of being in Neverland that Elias didn't die even when his head was separated from his body. Jack was the one who found him in time, and the ghastly moment forever scarred him. The fairies scrambled to save Elias' life and through a miracle of magic they somehow managed it.

Sadly they never could properly reattach Elias' head. It's a downright miracle that he's still alive even though it's now floating a little above his neck at all times, with pixie dust always leaking out from the edges. It's fortunate that fairies don't quite have the same biology as humans and are made more of magic than flesh.

Elias requires regular infusions of magic and medical treatment, but at least he's still alive.

Naturally Violet and Gerald, were punished for their savage attack on Elias. After they failed to deny their involvement, they claimed they hadn't intended to kill him, but that didn't save them from punishment.

Jack personally saw to it that they would never hurt anyone like that ever again. The scene sometimes still appears in his nightmares, as do other deaths and near deaths he had the misfortune to witness.

The close call with Elias drove Jack to find his soulmate next like they did for him and Bo. Jack hadn't really planned to keep going back to the human world after helping Bo. He didn't originally have a grand plan to save all the fairies.

But too many fairies he knew had fallen... and seeing the gruesome way Elias nearly died, his life hanging by the fragile thread of some child's belief, made more apparent by this wound that will never truly heal...

It changed something in Jack. Each hardship, each close call, and the success and love and found... the admiration he gained from the other fairies for what he accomplished...

Jack knew something had to change. They couldn't just hide away. Their attempts to separate themselves from their humans was no way to live. He knew full well the happiness he felt with Alice by his side. He couldn't imagine a life without her now.

So many fairies were living a hollow life. They were alone. Even if they hid away in Pixie Hollow surrounded by other fairies, that didn't take away the emptiness they all must have felt.

Jack didn't realize he had this emptiness until Alice filled it. Being with her completed him in a way no one else could. He would do anything to stay with her, to forever bask in her gentle warmth.

Now that Jack knew how empty he used to be, he couldn't imagine going back to it. Worse, he couldn't imagine that connection severed completely. Even when they were apart, a distant part of him was still tied to Alice, still felt the barest hint of her warmth.

There were fairies that still struggled to live even after they lost even that whisper of warmth. There were even those who stubbornly continued to keep going even as it damaged and degraded their bodies. They had been hollowed out to live an empty life of pain and misery.

Now Jack fully understood the bitterness those fairies held. He could never wish that fate on anyone, let alone his friends.

Jack couldn't imagine living in a world without his sunshine.

Seeing a friend of his come so close to death in such a gruesome way changed everything for Jack.

Despite such a traumatic incident, Elias tried his best to stay optimistic. He was still kind to others despite what he had gone through. Even if his body had been changed, he learned to adapt and accept that change.

Jack didn't want to see his friends be forced to accept a pain that would never truly go away. He wanted to change things for all of them so that no one would have to suffer anymore.

The only problem was how.

It was an issue the fairies had struggled with for centuries with no real solution. The best thing Jack could do for his friends was to keep taking trips to the human world, keep finding more soulmates, more Lost Kids, and bring them to Neverland.

There were other fairies who could help Jack come up with ideas. Even if many of the few elder fairies were so bitter, they had much wisdom to share.

They also had many dangerous seeds to plant and take root in fertile young minds.

Some children needed more convincing than others, despite the magic and wonder of Neverland. Not every child was willing to abandon their home and family for some faraway land. As Jack grew older, he got better at communicating with children and figuring out what they needed the most. He found a friendly smile and some careful but encouraging words could do wonders to befriend them.

Alice was an immense help in his quest. With all her experience guiding the other children, her kind and empathetic nature, and her infectious energy, she served as a shining example of how life in Neverland could bring someone endless days filled with joy and fun.

By the time Alice was an adult, she no longer thought about her biological family at all. She didn't think about whether or not they or her brother might miss her. She long assumed that they forgot about her, so she soon forgot about them.

But not every family was like the one she left behind. Not every family was abusive like the one Barbie had been in. Coraline didn't have such a terrible living situation, but still she didn't hesitate to leave her life and her loved ones behind behind.

Coraline knew that she was dying. Doctors had told her so, and she could feel death creeping up on her. Her body was slowing down and she spent more and more time in hospitals listening to the sound of her parents crying. She knew she was going to leave her parents behind and make them sad no matter what she chose. So what was the difference between dying and leaving for Neverland?

At least Coraline could have one last adventure outside of the sterile hospital room walls.

It was fortunate that the fairies and their magic were better equipped to keep Coraline alive than human medicine. When in Neverland, she started to recover, much to her shock. It was a bittersweet revelation when she learned that Neverland could help her stay alive... but only if she stayed in this place that always radiated magic.

Coraline wanted to live. She was happy with Elias, the Lost Kids, and everyone else she befriended in Neverland. She chose to stay. She never even considered leaving the one place where she might live.

Even still... sometimes Coraline couldn't help but stare longingly up at the stars, missing all the people she loved that she had to leave behind.

Even with that lingering longing from Coraline, there was no question that bringing her to Neverland was the right thing to do. She and Elias were alive and they were together.

Bo and Barbie were together. They often teased each other and could play rough, but they were happy. Barbie never wanted to see the human world again.

Whenever Alice started to wonder if what they were doing was right, Jack would be right there to soothe her fears.

They were doing the right thing. Jack knew that this was the right thing, and every day that passed and every child they brought back proved it to him all the more. All they had to do was be happy together and help others find their happiness too.

The only aspect of her former life that Alice looked back on with any lingering regret was the lonely little boy that she left behind.

Rot at the Roots

Although the focus of their expeditions to the human world was on bringing back soulmates to Neverland, there came a day that Alice wanted to deviate from that mission at least once.

Ian had no ties to fairies. If he ever believed in them, his belief in anything magical was stomped out long ago by his mother. When his only friend disappeared, he was left more lonely and isolated than ever.

You can only imagine his surprise when his lost friend came knocking on his bedroom window one night, especially since his bedroom is on the second floor.

Ian could hardly recognize Alice when she first visited him. At this point it had been a few years since she disappeared. Unlike the shy, quiet girl he once knew, she was more outspoken and energetic. She excitedly told him all about her her adventures in Neverland and that she wanted to bring him along to live there too.

Jack was... reluctant, to put it mildly. He didn't like this plan, though he couldn't come up with a good argument to dissuade Alice when she had her heart set on this.

Ian wasn't bound to a fairy. He had the potential to be a threat like the pirates. They were humans unbound to fairies, as greedy and cruel as all the old stories.

More than that, Jack couldn't shake this unease he felt that Ian was someone important enough that Alice would go out of her way to bring him to live with them.

Still... Jack couldn't deny his sunshine something that she truly wanted. Alice wanted to see her friend and to make him happy like she had the other Lost Kids. Even if Ian didn't have a fairy, it would be okay, since she knew already that Ian was a good person. Alice trusted Ian.

Somehow knowing that Alice trusted Ian didn't reassure Jack as much as he knew that it should.

Although Ian missed Alice and was dazzled by the idea of adventure in a magical world, he felt like he couldn't leave his mother. For as cruel as Karen could be, he felt like he owed it to his mother to be there for her and do as she said like a good, obedient son.

Still, Ian couldn't pass the chance up. He did go to Neverland, but for a short trip. Much like Wendy in the novel, he had frequent trips to Neverland over the years as he grew up.

As you might expect, Karen went ballistic the first time Ian disappeared. It was a while before he could summon the courage to do it again, even though he missed the adventure and thrills he found in Neverland upon coming home. It was a place out of a wonderous, if sometimes scary, dream.

Ian also couldn't forget about Alice. She had changed so much since he last saw her, but in the most enchanting of ways. She was confident and bubbly, still so kind and so courageous. She laughed in the face of danger and even faced off against pirates without fear. She had a light in her that shined like no one else he had ever met.

Ian couldn't help but fall in love with Alice.

I guess despite what I said earlier, Ian falls into Wendy's role here... but then again not quite. He has some similarities in the way he's dazzled by Alice like Wendy was captivated by Peter, but Ian and Wendy have vastly different personalities and vibes. While Wendy knew how to lead and guide others as a mother figure, Ian only ever learned to follow others' lead, and he struggled with knowing how to nurture others.

Unlike Wendy in the movie or animatic, Ian isn't going to be convincing the Lost Kids to leave Neverland. He doesn't have the courage to stay, so how could he dare ask any of them to leave such a magical place behind? How could he convince them beyond this feeling that Neverland was too good to be true and that they couldn't stay in a childish world of fantasy and adventure forever.

As the years went by and Ian distanced himself from his mother, he made more trips to Neverland. When he was living on his own, he could spend a bit longer there without anyone realizing where he had gone. He never wanted to stay in Neverland forever, but he kept going there to spend time with Alice.

For as amazing as Neverland is, Ian prefers the more relative calm of the human world. Pirates and dangerous magical creatures might sound like fun set pieces for an adventure, but they are harrowing to face in reality. He also has dreams he wants to achieve one day, and those dreams don't involve Neverland.

There's only one part about Neverland that Ian wants to keep dreaming about. He can't help but dream of one day convincing Alice to stay with him forever. They could even get married! She'd be such a beautiful bride... Maybe if he became someone rich and famous, someone even more amazing than a world full of fairies and magic, then maybe she'd choose him instead of Neverland.

Alice only ever saw Ian as her childhood friend. Though she was sad that he didn't want to live in Neverland, she was happy when he could spend time there to have fun with her and the Lost Kids.

Even after Alice grew up, her feelings for Ian didn't change. Much to his dismay, it was clear to him that she still saw him as that child that she befriended in the first grade. As much as he hated it, he also couldn't help but see that Jack was the person she loved the most.

Ian did try to become friends with Jack. He even envied Jack... but they never quite got along.

Jack tried not to hate Ian, but it was difficult a lot of the time. Alice was his soulmate, not Ian's, and yet Ian dared to lust after her anyway. Jack could see the way Ian looked at her, especially after they hit puberty.

It was only natural. Alice had grown into a beautiful woman, a free spirit who shone as bright as the sun. Her curvy body practically demanded Jack to constantly drink her in. He couldn't get enough of her softness, her warmth.

Jack desired Alice beyond words, and he hated that he saw something similar to what he felt in Ian's eyes.

The audacity. How dare Ian. Jack was being so generous to share his pixie dust to allow Ian to fly and spend time with his sunshine. Too generous.

Jack knew all about the fairy tales of human greed and what it had cost his people.

Alice had to divide her time with so many people. Jack was so content and happy with her. He trusted her. He trusted that she would never, ever leave him. She wanted to be with him. She promised never to forget him or stop believing in fairies. She wanted to spend forever with him. Yet time with her never seemed to be enough. So many people demanded her time and his.

There was so much to do, so many people to help, so many responsibilities.

So many fairies were still dying. Bringing more Lost Kids to Neverland helped, but it was never enough.

Even with his sunshine by his side, even with all the love Alice showed to Jack, he couldn't quite shake his insecurities or jealousy. The fairies weren't safe. Sure he saved his friends and was trying to save more, but it wasn't enough.

Humans were still greedy. They were content to discard and forget them unless they got more and more. By the time Jack was grown, he learned all too well that kind humans like Alice and the Lost Ones were the minority. They were the exception that proved the rule.

Jack was giving more and more of his time and sharing his sunshine far more than he ever wanted. He was already giving so much, and this brat Ian dared to want more?

It was petty of him, maybe even cruel. Jack couldn't help but play little tricks on Ian. Nothing too bad of course! Alice would be sad if Ian died, and the last thing Jack wanted was for Ian to take up even more space in her heart.

Plus, Jack didn't want to cross that line. Not yet. Not if he could help it. Killing someone was something he could never take back. He had tried so hard not to cross that line with anyone after being scarred by so much death all of his life...

Jack didn't want to be someone who killed people. He had so many who looked up to him, and he liked the person they saw in him. Even if his responsibilities were heavy, it all made him feel like he had a sense of worth.

Jack had become important, and important people can never be forgotten.

It got worse when Shaun entered the picture. Alice became friends with him right away. Whether Shaun has a fairy or two or not, it's left up in the air for now. I'm a bit iffy on how or when he and Alice meet. Maybe it was when he was a child or when they were both grown.

Hmm... I say that, but now I think of that image of kid Shaun in the Childhood Friends AU, and I can't help but snatch that cute little boy up. Little Shaun saw Alice flying through the sky and just had to make friends with her. He even got permission to go to Neverland from his parents.

I mean, really, how could Antwon and Leticia not give Shaun permission to go on a magical adventure of a lifetime. Hell, they'd want to come along, and it'd certainly be one way to convince Shaun to go to Neverland if he has a fairy soulmate.

Even if Shaun has a fairy bound to him, a part of Jack can't help but feel a bit jealous. Alice bonded with Shaun far too quickly and she got comfortable enough for hugs so fast.

Still, if Shaun has a fairy, he's not actually a threat. He has a soulmate, and that's not Alice. Maybe he and Jack could become friends in this universe too.

Of course, just because Shaun has a fairy doesn't mean he can't wind up with a crush on Alice. Feelings can be complicated that way. Of course his fairy would certainly not be happy with that crush unless they were interested in open relationships.

I mean, all a human really has to do is keep believing in their fairy. If they're both interested in an open relationship rather than monogamy, then why shouldn't they enjoy it?

After all, the human settlements and pirates living in Neverland had to come from somewhere after all. Humans and fairies might not be able to breed, but humans with other humans have mastered that ability.

Ian has some similar feelings of jealousy towards Shaun when they finally meet. It pushes him to strive even harder to achieve his dreams to become a man that Alice would want to be with before her heart is stolen away forever.

Hell, if anything, Ian is more jealous of Shaun than he is of Jack, shockingly enough.

Oh, sure Ian knew that Alice loved Jack more than him, but Jack was just a fairy. It was hard for him not to see the fairies as child-like due to their size and fantastical nature. It could never work out between them, surely.

If Ian just tried harder, if he just proved that he was a better choice than Jack, Shaun or anyone else, then maybe one day he could convince Alice to come home with him. Maybe one day she would understand that she needed to be among her own kind.

Like the fairies that resented humans, Ian too believed that humans didn't belong in Neverland.

Ian didn't know anything about soulmates. He didn't know how fairy society worked or how delicate their existence was. He didn't know the importance of human belief. It wasn't information meant for outsiders. Without a fairy partner, he would always be seen as an outsider.

To Ian, Jack was more of an annoyance and an obstacle. He resented the pranks the fairy pulled on him all the time. He could never prove it was Jack, but he just knew. The looks Jack gave him sometimes and those all too knowing remarks that never quite crossed the line into overt cruelty reminded him of so many bullies he dealt with all his life.

Jack never allowed Ian the chance to spend time alone with Alice for long, especially after they were grown. He also rubbed his closeness with Alice in Ian's face, often resting on her body or snuggling into her cleavage right in front of Ian.

It was innocent when they were still children. As adults, it was anything but. Still, Jack never did anything overtly sexual to Alice in public. He just made his suggestions of their relationship increasingly clear to Ian, even if Ian refused to believe it.

Jack didn't hold himself back because he didn't want to do naughty, naughty things to Alice while others were watching. Oh heavens no. Jack would make love to Alice in front of an entire audience if she wanted.

No, Alice preferred to keep their more intimate moments private, and Jack respected his sunshine's comfort.

Yeah, I know, the inciting incident of the animatic is Peter falling in love with Wendy, but you know me by now. Alice will always choose Jack, just like Jack will always choose Alice. She's not going to fall for Ian, Shaun, or Nick when she has Jack.

Alice fell in love with Jack long ago. Although he fell in love with her the day they met, her feelings grew slowly over time. Love snuck up on her on quiet cat paws until one day the realization pounced on her like a leopard, and she finally understood just how deep her feelings truly were for him.

Alice loves Jack. He's her partner, and she trusts him completely with her heart. Because of their size and species different, someone might be able to mistake their relationship as platonic. Love is clearly there, but someone like Ian can convince themselves that surely it their relationship is nothing more than friends or as found family.

Well, if you're not into extreme size kink, of course. Plenty of artwork online suggests how that sort of size difference might work for sexy times. We all know how creative Jack can be, especially when it comes to taking care of his sunshine and showing her just how much he loves her~

Fortunately, this is an issue that's long since been addressed by fairy kind. There's a commonly known spell that allows them to grow in size for a limited period of time, or to shrink someone else down to their size.

I mean, humans and fairies being soulmates and lovers is something that's existed since as long as fairies have. It'd be silly to assume that they haven't come up with at least a few workarounds for the size difference by now.

While Alice hasn't mentioned to her friends that she regularly is shrunk down to Jack's size for cuddle time, Jack has occasionally shown off his larger transformation for some human-sized surprise cuddles.

Seeing the tiny fairy suddenly turn into a 6'6" giant can intimidate anyone. Ian was shocked when Jack suddenly blew up to such massive proportions before spooning a giggling and blushing Alice from behind.

Those muscles of his suddenly don't look quite so tiny unthreatening anymore.

It's when Jack actually becomes full size in front of Ian that Ian finally is forced to see Jack as a real threat.

Not that Ian ever really had a chance of convincing Alice to leave Jack for him. This just forces him to start to see the truth.

Really, I'd argue that the inadequacy Ian would feel when comparing himself to Jack at giant size might hurt him worse than any prank Jack has ever pulled on him.

While Ian isn't really a threat, Jack can't totally shake away his feelings of insecurity. The introduction of Shaun and then Nick will only give Jack more reasons to feel uneasy. While I don't have solid ideas how and when Nick comes into the picture, and Shaun's place in the timeline isn't quite solid yet, it feels fitting that the presence of the other love interests unintentionally provoke Jack's yandere instincts.

These potential love interests feel like a threat to Jack. The pirates are a threat, even for as ridiculous as Captain Barry Hook can be sometimes. All the dangers that exist in this cold, cruel world can be a potential threat just waiting to steal his sunshine away from him forever.

The worst threat of all is the fragility of the fairy race. It's not just the lives that are lost, it's the fear. They constantly live in fear of losing their lives or the lives of their friends at any time.

It seems so easy for humans to just... stop believing. It's so cruel, so unfair.

Why did fairies have to live such a fragile existence.

While Jack has Alice to give him a solid sense of security, not even she can keep him safe from all of these fears. Seeing what happened to Elias up close, as well as other incidents, burned the seriousness into his brain like a hot iron.

So, much like the second animatic, a more permanent solution seems to be necessary.

The problem is the humans' lack of faith in fairies. The fairies were made to be loved. They were born when humans find joy in their lives for the first time. They are their human's joy and vice-versa.

They were not meant to be forgotten or exploited for selfish greed.

The humans needed to remember that fairies exist. They must be loved, adored, worshipped.

If humanity won't care about fairies, then they will feel the same fear the fairies have had to live with for centuries.

Jack doesn't talk about these secret plans that he and other fairies start plotting in the shadows. He doesn't want to worry Alice. Her heart is already heavy enough with the burden of convincing kids to leave their families for a better life in Neverland. She's so kind and loving. What they have in mind...

Well, it's just better that Alice and the other Lost Ones are kept unaware. All they have to do is be happy and to make their partners happy. The fairies that have their soulmates are the happiest fairies in the world. Nothing good can come of weighing their hearts down with this terrible guilt and shame for what must be done.

Jack and his conspirators will ensure that all of the fairies can be just as happy. They'll take the weight of this burden.

All the fairies look to Jack as an example. He's their beacon of hope. He can't let them down... even if it means doing things he knows are wrong, so very, very wrong.

If the world understood the bond between fairies and their soulmates... if humans were made aware of the importance of fairies and their belief, even if because they feared what might happen otherwise... then no one would be foolish enough to even try to take away a fairy's soulmate.

It might be difficult, it might be harsh, it might even be cruel... but it's for the best. Everyone, both fairies and humans, will be far, far happier in the end.

It's for the best. Jack has to convince himself of that, just like many of his co-conspirators. The more jaded and bitter among them have no doubts, and they're looking to him to be strong. He can't let his resolve weaken when everyone needs him.

Of course, Alice won't be happy when she learns what Jack intends to do or how far he intends to go. She loves him so deeply and is willing to sacrifice so much for him, but this is wrong. This is going way too far.

Forcing humans to believe in fairies through fear and blind worship won't save anyone.

Alice might not be in love with someone else, thus pushing Jack to murder them, but that doesn't mean she can't find herself in opposition to him. She doesn't need the motivation of revenge to motivate her to stop her lover from conquering the world with a terrible display of magic and power.

Jack and Tinkerbell are two very people, so even if they have similar motivations, they won't necessarily make the same choices. Same for Alice and Peter Pan, or any of the other characters in familiar roles. There can be similar broad strokes, but things change in the fine details, and the story can go in unique directions.

While a lot of elements of the animatics apply in this AU, events aren't going to go the same way.

Jack won't treat Alice like a child and mock her, taunting her to kill him. He knows her better than that. He knows that her heart is his, just like his is hers. He knows that she would never want to hurt him. He doesn't want to hurt her either. That's why he'll talk her out of opposing him, stop her from getting hurt trying to resist plans if he has to.

Likewise, Alice doesn't want Jack to hurt. She knows him. She wants fairies and humans to live together happily in peace like they were meant to. She knows that's what he truly wants too, not this insanity! Conquering the humans might force them to believe in fairies and prevent them from being a threat against fairies ever again, but no one will be happy this way!

Jack might have convinced himself that it won't bother him, but Alice knows him better than that. She knows just how deeply it would damage his already scarred heart.

There has to be a better way. Alice might not know what that way is yet, but she knows what it's like to be contained and controlled. She knows what it's like to be forced to love people who don't actually love her in return. Forcing humanity like this won't result in real love, but submission. Even the soulmates yet to be found will learn to fear their fairies instead of love them. She can't let Jack and the rest of the fairies go down this evil path.

Jack adores Alice and her kind heart, but it's hard not to see her perspective as being naïve. He learned so much of humanity's cruelty and greed. She and the Lost Ones... they're the exception, not the rule... and even they can be tempted to forget the person who truly completes them.

How many fairies have died because their soulmate stopped believing in them?

Jack doesn't want to be cruel, but that's what this delicate existence fairies have to live in is. The world is so cold and cruel. Threats will always come for them unless they fight to eliminate them completely.

Love is beautiful and wonderful and warm. Love is the reason for living... but love alone won't keep them safe. Sometimes a firmer hand is necessary.

Even if that means forcing humans to live with a fear comparable to the one that the fairies have lived with for generations.

The conflict between them is Alice trying to talk Jack and the other fairies down. She has to stop him, even if it means opposing him.

But Alice won't take the shot. She won't even consider shooting Jack or attacking him with her knife. She might've fought pirates on a regular basis, gotten into sword fights so many times, but this is Jack.

Instead, Alice would just be trying to restrain him. She would pin him down with tears in her eyes and beg him to stop. I'd argue seeing that his sunshine in tears and hurting so much because of his actions might do more damage to Jack than an arrow through the heart.

Overall, I can see fairy Jack going down a similar villainous path as Tinkerbell did in the animatic, even if Alice were to choose him rather than any other love interest. He might be safe and loved, but that doesn't stop his heart from being wounded and scarred from all of the death and fear he and his kind have had to live with.

Of course, with my preference for happy endings with my OTP, I don't see this AU having a Bad End. Sure there will be conflict, drama, and plenty of tears, but there's so much love too.

Jack and Alice are soulmates after all. They can't live without each other, nor do they want to.

Somehow, Alice will get through to Jack. Even if it seems impossible, they'll somehow find a better way so that no one has to suffer anymore. Love is stronger than fear.

I think I'll wrap things up on that optimistic note. I'm kind of surprised that this post got as long as it did, but that's what happens when you do a lot of worldbuilding. There's just so many parts of the world and its characters to touch on. For as long as I've gone on, I've still barely scratched the surface!

Please let me know if you would like me to revisit this AU in the future. I hope you enjoyed my attempt at combining Sunny Day Jack, these animatics, and the world of Peter Pan and Neverland in general into one big cohesive story. Thank you for reading!

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thedemonofcat · 4 months ago

Note

I think it'd be really cute if Jaskier insisted with traveling with Ciri to keep with his tradition of traveling with witchers, writing songs of her achievements and making her failures a little less miserable.

The rain fell in sheets, turning the dirt road into a river of mud. Ciri pulled the hood of her cloak lower, muttering curses about the weather, the monsters, and—most of all—her companion.

Jaskier trotted beside her, undeterred by the downpour. His lute was safely wrapped in oilcloth, but his mouth was always uncovered and running.

"You should see the bright side of this!" he declared, sidestepping a particularly deep puddle. "You're forging your legend, and I get to be the first to chronicle it!"

Ciri shot him a look. "I’m not interested in being a legend, Jaskier. I want to get through this damned swamp without dying."

"Yes, yes," Jaskier waved a hand, "but when have legends ever been about comfort? Do you think Geralt enjoys being turned into song and story? No! But he endures it. For the people. For the bards. And, obviously, for me." He flashed a grin. "And now, dear Cirilla, it is your turn."

Ciri sighed. "I don’t need a bard trailing after me."

Jaskier gasped. "Blasphemy!" He clutched his chest. "Every great witcher has a bard! And since you are a witcher or at least witcher-adjacent, it is only fitting that I, Jaskier the Magnificent, accompany you."

She raised an eyebrow. "The Magnificent? That’s new."

"I'm trying it out. What do you think?"

"If you don't stop talking, I'll throw you to the drowners just to hear some peace."

Jaskier clutched his lute protectively. "You wound me, truly. But fear not! I shall turn even your threats into poetry. How about this: The Swamp Witch and the Foolish Bard—A Tragic Comedy?"

Ciri rolled her eyes. "More like The Bard Who Wouldn’t Shut Up—A Horror Tale"

Jaskier chuckled. "Oh, that’s good! A bit wordy, but we can work on it."

They walked silently—at least, for a few blessed moments—until Jaskier hummed thoughtfully.

"Of course, the real challenge," he mused, "will be making your failures sound noble rather than humiliating."

Ciri stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

"Come now, even Geralt trips up sometimes. I mean, remember the time he tried to fight a wyvern with nothing but a butter knife? That was a challenge, let me tell you."

Ciri crossed her arms. "And how exactly do you plan to make my failures ‘less miserable’?"

Jaskier struck a dramatic pose. "Ah, imagine this: You bravely charge into battle against a monstrous fiend—only to, unfortunately, misjudge the terrain and fall into a particularly deep puddle of mud. Now, I could tell it as ‘Ciri, the noble warrior, bested not by beast but by fate itself, falling only so she might rise again, stronger and fiercer!’"

Ciri groaned. "I hate you."

"You’ll learn to love me."

They trudged on, the storm still raging, and Jaskier—true to form—was already humming the first few lines of his next song.

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shieldhearted · 4 months ago

Text

Written for @jilymicrofics March Challenge Prompt 30: Chronicles || Words: 849 Rating: T This micro is related to my main fic, but can be read independently!

In the beginning, Lily thought she might fall into the magical world as easy as riding a bike. In the beginning, she had been a fool. There was too much history, too many deep-rooted cultural norms and practices. It was a world running parallel to the one she’d known all her life, and she just didn’t know enough of it to grasp all the nuances.

Not that she wasn’t trying.

She asked questions, swallowed her pride and expected to be mocked for her ignorance. Often times, she was. But still, she craved to know this world as much as the one she was born into. Lily just wished it wasn’t so bloody difficult to tease out answers.

Marlene and Ayisha often forgot to clue Lily and Mary into what they were referencing, only stopping when they finally comprehended the looks of confusion mirrored on her and Mary’s faces. And Sev? Well, Sev dangled information in front of Lily like a carrot. Lily didn’t even know if he knew he was doing it, but she thought he enjoyed knowing more than she did.

She’d never admit it to herself, but there was something to him holding information over her head. It ensured she always came crawling back after they rowed.

Well, not this time. This time she was determined to get answers for herself. What did it matter that the O.W.L.s were only weeks away? She could use a break from revising to investigate common Wizard household names.

She found the book she was looking for and pulled it off the shelf. It was oddly dusty, the letters peeling off the title on the front. There were 57 chapters listed in the table of contents.

“The Chronicles of Beedle the Bard? Don’t think that one’s going to be on our Runes O.W.L., Evans.”

She jumped, nearly dropping the old book. James Potter was leaning against the stacks, trying (and failing) to look effortlessly cool. The bags under his eyes really took away from the image.

“Sev mentioned it,” she mumbled. What she really wanted to say was ‘fuck off’, but you never knew when Madam Pince was creeping behind shelves, looking for any excuse to throw students from the library.

“Ah. I didn’t know his sort could read.”

“What?” Lily narrowed her eyes. “Poor people?”

“No,” said James, sounding exhausted. “But thank you for assuming. I meant gits who have their head all the way up their arse they can’t see straight.”

Lily rolled her eyes. She might be mad at Sev at the moment, but she wasn’t about to laugh at Potter being a wanker.

“Whatever,” she muttered, ducking her head back down to look at the book.

“No, really, Evans, why are you reading that book? It’s filth.”

“You’re only saying that because you hate Severus,” she muttered.

“No, I’m saying it because the person who wrote that hated that the actual Beedle was sympathetic to Muggles.”

Lily snapped the book shut and glared at him.

“What?”

He looked annoyingly innocent. She wanted to hit him.

“You’re just trying to make me upset at Severus,” she said.

“I think he’s probably done a bang up job of that all on his own,” said James dryly. He reached up to a higher shelf and pulled down a small, significantly thinner book. “If you want to understand Beedle the Bard, you need to read his actual stories, not some crack-pot novel that paints Muggles as out to get him. The Tale of Three Brothers is popular in my family, but I’m partial to Babbity Rabbity myself.”

Lily snorted.

“Sorry, what was that last one?”

“Babbity Rabbity,” he looked completely unembarrassed. Damn him. “Might be the first accounting of an Animagus. Truly fascinating stuff, Evans. Much less demented than the Grimm Brother’s fairy tales.”

“How d’you know about the Grimm Brothers?”

“Please,” James waved a hand. “I know all sorts of things.”

“Like what?” she’s smiling now, in spite of herself.

“Like not pointing my friends in the direction of some rubbish fantasy story about a long dead writer that’s full of anti-Muggle sentiments without any warning.”

The smile slid right off her face and she was glaring again.

“You’re determined to hate him.”

“Yeah, yeah I suppose I am. He doesn’t make it difficult, Evans. Really, why was he even talking about this rubbish?”

“He just said it was common in magical houses.”

Lily could feel herself deflating.

“It is, just not in the respectable houses.”

Well, Lily supposed the Snape household was less than respectable. Tobias was an angry drunken fool, and Eileen could hardly be bothered anymore to protect her son from that. Lily knew that if she was just patient, she could get through to Sev about Muggles.

“Look, Just read Tales of Beedle the Bard, Evans,” James dropped the smaller book on top of The Chronicles of Beedle the Bard. “I promise you’re in for a treat.”

“I dunno if I can trust you on that, Potter.”

“Please,” he winked. Or tried to. It looked more like a twitch. “When have I ever lied to you?”

#jily fanfiction #james potter #lily evans #jily #march jily microfic challenge.

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inspirationalucky · 10 months ago

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Disney Princess Villain Songs

[ PART 1 / 2 ] a collection of sentence prompts / rp memes inspired by lydia the bard's disney princess villain songs. please don't add more prompts/memes to this list, definitely change pronouns, names, etc. as necessary for the situation! part two.

Tale as Old as Time (Belle's Villain Song)

"It's your final page."

"You see in this world, we're merely players."

"The truth is I'm the beauty, you're the beast"

"You thought we're a match. Sweetheart, I am far smarter than that"

"There is no one living that can challenge me"

"You're unworthy."

"What a genius plan! Truly, did you think this through?"

"I let you all believe I would go quietly while I sat and planned my hand"

"I have not spent my life reading books, my hours studying, to be some desperate prince's lonely wife"

"Wanna lock me away? Well, by all means, have your fun with that"

"I will be the author of my life"

"You're all idiots for thinking that you'd really make it out of this alive"

"You are nothing but a monster to me"

"You're not worth my pity"

"Not even one of you is a rival to what I can do"

"Don't you get it? This is my design"

"I've made all my moves"

Journey to the Past (Anastasia's Villain Song)

"Your new queen is speaking"

"A new age is finally here"

"Yes, the rumor's true!"

"Bow down now or live in fear"

"Starting now you finish last"

"You stole my family and my past"

"There's a debt that's owed. Justice to deliver."

"You'll be forced to right this wrong"

"This ghost's been here all along"

"Thought I'd found them, but then, how was I to know?"

"It's a lie, they just abandon you and go"

"I will never be complete until I find you"

"Now you understand!"

"You're the special few blessed to join my table"

"You're my brand new family now"

"Justice will be mine, I'll have vengeance for my past"

Almost There (Tiana's Villain Song)

"[ Tia! ] What have you done?"

"[ Tia ], you need to snap out of it!"

"I remember when you told me all our dreams are coming true"

"Dreams like that? They don't come for free."

"Didn't think I'd have to stand and see just what you'd turn into"

"She doesn't care who gets hurt on the way, 'cause she's almost there"

"Oh, [ Lottie ]. You're not thinking about the big picture!"

"If there's one thing Daddy taught me, it's that hard work don't get you by"

"You gotta be willing to play bad and give the cards a try"

'If a few folks get hurt on the way, well, maybe they should've learned to play"

"I'm collecting, and debts are due"

"I haven't worked this hard to stop right now!"

"You're scaring me!"

"Don't you see? There's nothing we can't do when it's just me and you."

"Do this and you'll lose me! Or don't you care?"

"Babe, if you're against it, I don't want you here!"

This Wish (Asha's Villain Song)

"You're so far from what I'd thought you'd be"

"You've taken one step too far, and hurt the ones I swore to defend"

"Well, I want my life to finally mean something"

"They say we're made of stars, but a star's more dangerous than they seem"

"If a darker path is what will free us finally, let me be the first to walk that line"

"My whole life I idolized you!"

"I followed your rules, did what I had to do"

"It seems about time you paid for your abuse"

"Shouldn't have dared to try and cross me."

"If I can be powerful, then I can provide everything we need"

"You see, I've been weak before. I won't be that anymore."

"I'd give anything to stop history repeating"

"I didn't want any of this to happen"

"You'll suffer for your crimes!"

How Far I'll Go (Moana's Villain Song)

"I had been the perfect daughter long as I can remember."

"But you laughed and you shoved me away!"

"When you push you'll soon find out how far I'll go."

"We could have fixed this so, so long ago."

"Now reap what you've sown"

"You've brought about all of our demise"

"You've spread fear to all of those around you"

"I could save them all. I could stop this curse."

"But you shut me out, you abandoned me!"

"I once thought that I had a loving father"

"Now you'll pay for all the lives that you've broken"

"You'll watch your people drown"

"All these useless and meaningless deaths? They're on your head"

"I take no pride in seeing them die"

"You won't find a savior in me, I guarantee"

I'll Make A Man Outta You (Mulan's Villain Song)

"The least we could do is give them a warning."

"I feel we could use a pep talk before leaving"

"Once you find his weakness, we are sure to win"

"This man's debts are finally due"

"Boy, was I a fool for trusting you!"

"Now, look what you've made me do! See what you've turned me into!"

"It let me know that my true calling was to see you dead."

"Most of you won't make it, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make"

"We've sacrificed too much to turn back now"

"They've been in charge too long."

#rp meme #rp prompt #sentence starter #rp starter #rp starter meme #rp memes #lydia the bard

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colormepurplex2 · 6 months ago

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The Sirens' Song | Into The Deep

↳ Namjoon x Jimin x f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Merfolk/Sirens, Myth/Legend, Fantasy AU ⤜ Rating: MA🔞 ⤜ WC: 7,688 ⚠️Melancholy thoughts, crass language, shipwreck, mild fear, mentions of death, grief

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

In the moon’s glow, where darkness plays, The ocean breathes in rhythmic ways. Against obsidian rocks that are jagged and proud, The tempest whispers secrets, fierce yet loud. Each wave a tale of journeys long gone, Of the briny depth’s roar laced with siren’s song. She foams and crashes, wild and free, A dance of power like a haunting symphony. The salt-kissed air filled with misty spray, Birthing endless nights that will never give way. Watch her still, the tide, relentless; she seeks To carve the stone with her lashing peaks. From rocky cliffs, the sirens wail, Their haunting voices spin a tale. Of sailors lost in the tempest's grip, Drawn to the edge, where they are oft to slip. In Black Rock Bay, the legends doth swell, Of gold and gems that decorate a haunting hell. As storm clouds gather and shadows creep, The restless spirits never sleep. For in this bay where echoes cling, The tempest rages, and the sirens sing.

The song continues, the bard sitting by the fire supporting the mournful words with the harp settled across his lap. His gnarled fingers surprisingly spry on the delicate strings. The dower tune does nothing to bolster your dreary mood. Not even the tankard of sour ale clasped between your palms seems to be working. If anything, the song only proves to darken your heart further.

You’ve heard stories about Black Rock Bay, with the treacherous breaker waves constantly lashing at the jutting obsidian spires that are said to hide untold treasures if one can make it through the squall and ripping current. That is, if you don’t get swindled away into the black abyss enthralled by a siren’s song first.

Just last summer, Miguel, the man you had been sharing your bed with, stole away in the middle of the night with your ship and crew with a course chartered to Black Rock Bay. Fool’s you, you suppose, for letting a man get that close to you. It’s hard enough being a woman, harder still being a woman who is also the captain of a ship. It took you almost a decade to earn your sails and the loyalty of your crew—or so you thought, bunch of mutinous fish guts, the lot of them.

You hope Miguel is somewhere at the bottom of the bay, the sirens using his bones to pick their teeth. The last year has been challenging, trying to rebuild what you once had. But you have enough salt in your veins that it would take more than a stab in the back to see you give up. The hardest part has been gathering a new crew. As it is now, you have the bare minimum of bodies needed to man your new ship. And you’re not sure a few wouldn’t do the same as Miguel did for the right price.

After all, being a pirate comes with its fair share of dangers.

But…maybe… It sits like a lead weight in your belly, the idea of conquering Black Rock Bay out of spite. No one would ever dare to laugh or betray you then, no daggers in your back or sweet smiles slithering their way into your bed only to strike with venom while you’re least expecting it. You’d be a legend. There would be many songs written, stories told far and wide...

“‘Ey, Cap, we off with the sun?” The spritely voice of your best friend, and the only crew member who didn’t take off with Miguel, pipes up from beside you, breaking through your mental wallowing. She slides her petite frame onto the bench beside you, her elbow jostling yours and causing some of the now-luke-warm ale from your tankard to slosh onto your hand. “Oh, sorry,” she adds with a nervous chuckle. “Let me just…” She snatches a handkerchief that has seen better days from her coat pocket and dabs at your hand and the table.

“Ollie, leave it, it’s fine.”

She gives you a gap-toothed grin, her freckled cheeks coloring as she stuffs her soiled handkerchief back into her pocket. Olivia Ramsey has been your friend since you were both urchins on the street fighting over crusts of moldy bread.

You never knew your parents, only that your mother was a flavor that many were partial to, and she indulged for the right amount of coin. It’s supposed that you were begotten on her by one of those men—a pirate, most likely. Once you were old enough to pilfer your own meals, not quite ten, those proverbial apron strings everyone believes mothers possess were indefinitely sheered off at the source. All your memories of her are vague, a hazy figure shooing you away from a darkened doorway...a woman too busy earning her next coin to worry about the ill-gotten welp that she saw as more of a curse than a blessing.

Ollie came from a loving home. Or as loving as an ill-favored family can be. Her father had a gambling problem, and her mother had the spine of a jellyfish. When she was seven, she ended up being the payment of a gambling debt. Servitude to an upper household was her fate. At some point or another—the details are muddled to you as Ollie changes the story just about as many times as she’s told it—she escaped and tried to make her way back to her parents, only to find the house empty when she returned.

It wasn’t long after the two of you became struggling companions that you noticed she sometimes sought answers about her family. You followed her once when she slipped off in the middle of the night, right to the door of a gentlemen’s club. That’s when she discovered she could pass in men’s spaces, thought to be a boy sneaking about. The men would laugh at ‘him’ and be none the wiser to their spilled secrets being consumed by feminine ears.

You look her over now, automatically taking account of her constitution. Curls of her straw-colored hair peek out from under the knit cap pulled low on her head. It’s part of her ploy, continuing to dupe men and cleverly blend in in places where you would be turned away at the door.

“If we leave wi’the sun, there’s a chance we beat Fat Al through the breakers and can hit the reef first.”

You sigh, giving your friend a sidelong look before pushing away your ale and angling your body toward hers. As nice as it would be to put that sniveling pock-marked arse of a wannabe pirate Fat Al in his place…a new plan is formulating in your mind. Slumping slightly, you drape an arm over her shoulders and put your mouth close to her ear.

“I say we let Fat Al have the reef.” Your eyes flick to the bard still crooning about briny ocean air and hauntingly beautiful creatures harboring chests of riches. “There is another place I have set my sights on…”

🌊🌊🌊

Jimin

There is a storm brewing. Jimin can feel it in how the temperature changes in the currents. He’s long since grown used to the drastic changes when the cooler waters from deeper in the ocean surge up into the warmer surface waters. After all, his home has always been this bay, where storms often rage in the skies overhead.

What he isn’t used to is seeing the giant belly of a boat slicing through the water of his bay. More often, the boats that attempt to come to the island of Black Rock Bay come in on the eastern side of the isle where the shore looks smoother and more welcoming—though it is anything but, with its hidden reefs and jagged lava rock just below the surface of the ocean.

“What do you think?” Namjoon’s voice so close startles Jimin out of his vigilant assessment.

“Storms coming on too strong. The ship won’t make it into the bay before the breakers gain height. Most likely, it’ll end up in pieces scattered along the shore,” Jimin murmurs, the frilled gills along the sides of his neck opening and closing, emitting small streamers of bubbles with his words.

“Should we send out the runners and try to steer them clear?”

Jimin thinks on this for a second before shaking his head. “They won’t make it here in time, perhaps if we had asked them before the sun went down just in case this happened. Yoongi would do his best, but…no, my love, we just have to wait and see what grace Calypso may grant these poor souls.”

He knows that even if Yoongi could coax a few of the larger whales to the surface, they’d barely make a difference in causing the boat to change course. As it is, it would be unlikely for whoever’s manning the ship to even see the whales, considering how dark the sky is and how violent the sea is becoming. They’re more likely to accidentally clip one of the gentle beasts than see them.

Namjoon nods, implicitly accepting Jimin’s judgement without question. “We best go deeper; I can already feel the tug of the tide. You’ll be swept away if you linger this close to the surface.”

It’s just as Jimin expects. The sea is angry, thrashing heavy squalls against the shore. Gusts of wind rip through the air, with piercing screams to rival the ocean's own shrill cries. Even from this far down, Jimin can hear the cacophony causing the wood of the boat to groan and creak.

Namjoon’s arms tighten around Jimin. They both watch in horror as the wide berth of the ship rocks violently, getting tossed around like a child’s toy by the turmoil of the sea. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Namjoon murmurs in Jimin’s ear, the bubbles from his words getting lost in the swift currents moving around them.

They’re both watching from the relative safety of one of the many underwater passageways that zig-zag through the underbelly of the island of Black Rock Bay. Small windows look out into the open water, doubling as entrances to the tunnel systems.

It’s like watching a painting come to life, the edges of the window acting as the frame. The boat daring to chart through the bay must be manned by a demi-god, as they continue to battle and persist against the storm.

Jimin is in awe at the display of sheer will. Despite being tossed around with every crashing wave against its bulwark, it careens ever closer to the jagged rocks along the shore, but somehow, the boat rights itself every time and manages to dodge the deathly peaks.

“Whoever they are…if they can navigate through this storm without breaking their ship on the rocks, I’ll personally give them enough gold to fill their hold,” Jimin tells Namjoon as his eyes stay locked on the vessel overhead.

The rough stone lip of the window makes his fingers ache as he clenches them around it every time the ship comes close to one of the outcroppings of old lava rock hidden by the foaming, swirling sea.

“You think they’ll make it?”

Just as Jimin opens his mouth to respond to Namjoon, the first reverberating impact thunders through the bay. Just as the boat started to swing one way, the raucous waves sent it into a near tail-spin without enough time for correction.

Wood splinters, the ocean roaring its victory as it floods into the bilge of the ship, filling it with far more water than it could hold. Jimin sighs, his chest aching from knowing that this was the inevitable end. Even though he had spoken the truth, maybe this fate might have been avoided if he had kept his mouth shut.

Or better yet, maybe if he had agreed to let Yoongi call for the runners, the souls lost above wouldn’t have been swept away by the ravaging sea. Even a tiny chance would have been better than watching this catastrophe; no matter how fruitful the spoils might be from the wreckage. But it’s too late now.

The boat's keel ruptures as it runs along one of the bigger jagged points of bedrock, like a sharp knife through kelp. With that surrender of wood to rock, Jimin knows there is no hope for the ship; it’s been ripped open from stern to bow. They can only watch…wait, and maybe catch an unfortunate soul or two and try to help.

Just as the thought passes Jimin’s mind, Namjoon gasps. He thrusts a hand out over Jimin’s shoulder. “Do you see that?”

Jimin shakes his head, eyes frantically searching the dark, murky waters. Suddenly, he sees them, a flailing figure struggling through one of the rip currents. Jimin doesn’t think twice, using his grip on the window's ledge to propel himself forward. Namjoon is a second behind him, his powerful pearlescent tail hurtling him past Jimin.

“Go!” Jimin urges when Namjoon glances back at him. He can see the hesitation in Namjoon’s eyes, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Jimin behind with the waters so turbulent. “Don’t worry about me!”

Namjoon gives him a resolute nod before renewing his efforts upward. Jimin watches, his own tail and muscles straining as he fights the currents, as Namjoon dodges through the debris field where they last saw the figure in the water.

For one harrowing second, Jimin loses sight of Namjoon around a large piece of ship wreckage. A relieved cry catches in Jimin’s throat as Namjoon reappears, his arms cradling a much smaller being.

“A woman,” Namjoon grunts when Jimin reaches him. “I didn’t see any others.”

Jimin uses his arms to push himself backward, trailing slowly after Namjoon, who doubles his efforts to drag the limp woman toward the opening to one of their open-air caves. It’s a short swim, but all the same, Jimin worries for the woman. There is no telling how long she’s been under or when the last time she had a breath of air was.

Worry eats away at the pit of Jimin’s stomach as he watches large swaths of sail and immense sheets of timber sink to litter the bottom of the bay. Something tells him if anyone else was aboard that ship, they’re lost to the sea. With one final sweep of his eyes over the wreckage, he turns and slips into the tunnel, following after Namjoon and the woman he is carrying in his arms with the hope they will be able to help her.

🌊🌊🌊

Chills seep into your body, burrowing all the way down to your bones. Everything aches. You feel like you just went on a two-week bender and fell into the ocean. Your clothes are sodden, and you feel the violent urge to sick up…maybe you had gone on a bender…

The urge becomes too much, and you heave onto your side, emptying briny water and bile from your belly. It burns on the way out, clogging your nose and making your eyes water as you retch onto the sand.

Clarity begins to ebb in, and the fact you’re lying in the sand with the moon and stars twinkling from above makes no sense because the last thing you remember is—Fuck!

You fling yourself up onto your backside, stirring a shower of wet sand into the air, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth, the sudden movement of sitting up threatening to have you heaving once more.

Swallowing the bile bubbling up, you cough before shouting, “Ollie?!” Your voice is hoarse, the ocean water having stripped your throat raw. “Please, Ollie?!”

The sand shifts beneath your unsteady feet as you struggle to stand. You tilt wildly to the side, your balance off and everything around you showing double. Finally, the shore stops spinning, and you can take in everything around you.

Fat and heavy overhead, the moon illuminates stray bits of what you can only assume is your ship dotting the sand—about thirty feet from the shoreline, a thick jungle stretches in either direction as far as you can see. You wouldn’t have guessed the sky was full of turmoil just…hours ago? Well, you assume it’s only been hours, at least; it’s hard to be sure, but judging by the moon's position, you think you’re right.

You know you should have turned around as soon as the first streak of lightning lit up the horizon. But, with Ollie reassuring you, along with the bolstered attitude from the rest of the crew, you pressed forward, hands tight to the wheel as you steered the bow toward the distant shoreline.

It was with the intent of anchoring just outside the breaker point of the bay, where the reef and lava rock can be seen jutting from the waters. However, the winds were too strong, and the storm tossed the boat about and put you completely off course, right into the path of the old slag tunnels.

You remember how the ship shuddered, the piercing squeal of wood and iron giving in to the relentless power of the rock. Ollie’s alarmed face was the last thing you remember seeing before the whole boat rocked hard to the side, and you were ripped from the helm by the force and sent tumbling into the dark waters of the bay.

Suddenly, you hear voices coming from ahead of you—from the jungle. You stop and listen, holding your breath before exhaling in a rush. “Ollie!” you call, scrambling toward the tree line. “Ollie! Jameson! Red! Anyone?”

Darkness swallows you as you stumble ahead, arms wheeling to keep yourself upright. You shove against trees, using their rough, wet trunks for support as you propel yourself through the underbrush.

“Captain.”

The word shivers down your spine, seeming to come from all directions. You spin in a circle, wet greenery whipping you in the face. The deep emerald greens and rich browns of the jungle are barely perceptible, with the meager moonlight filtering through the dense overhead canopy.

“Ollie!” you scream, the name echoing around you ten-fold. “Where are you? Ollie, can you hear me!?”

“Captain of the shining sea.”

“Looking here, looking there; come to find me.”

“Ollie, this isn’t funny,” you croak. The silence that follows is deafening. Not even insect noise or the hum of wildlife greets you. “Please.” The word falls in a whisper from your trembling lips.

“Captain, Captain of the shining sea. Looking here, looking there; come to find me.”

The words repeat, only this time there is a distinct lilting quality that makes your blood run cold. Ollie isn’t a singer. More so, the entire crew would rather shove nails under their fingernails than belt any sea shanty.

Only one thing comes to mind: a singular possibility as to who—what—it could be.

Sirens. Luring you to your death, enticing the next meal that will fill their bellies.

Foolish, so foolish. And you want legendary songs written about you. You scoff to yourself. The only songs they’ll be writing about you will be the tragic or humorous kind. Everyone will have a good laugh after they toast your memory. No wonder everyone thinks women are bad luck aboard pirate ships. Here you are proving them right.

Turning on your toes, you do your best to hurry back the way you came. Only it’s impossible to tell which way is which in the dark. Everything looks the same. The words continue to haunt you, nipping at your heels no matter how far you manage to go.

“Captain, Captain of the shining sea…”

“Stop! Stop it! Leave me—”

The rest of your plea turns into a shriek as you hurtle down a steep incline. Pain races through your limbs as they smack into trees and bushes, your descent an uncontrollable plummet.

The ground rises to meet you, the stark reality of your situation flashing before your eyes right before your head meets the unforgiving surface of a rock, and everything goes black.

🌊🌊🌊

Namjoon

“Where did she go? She was right here! You said you’d look after her while I got the stew going.”

Jimin scowls at Namjoon, gesturing to the space where the human woman was just moments ago.

“Simmer down. I’ll go look for her. She can’t have gone far.” In fact, Namjoon is relatively sure he knows exactly where she went.

“No harm better come to her, Namjoon. I mean it!” Jimin’s sour attitude follows Namjoon as he shuffles out into the jungle. It would be better if the sun were out, but as it is, his vision is only mildly impacted by the dark of night. If he were able to assume his mer-form, he’d have no issues at all. Being on two legs only serves as a minor hindrance, mainly in things like hearing and sight.

It’s not like Namjoon intended for the female to wake up and immediately seek to escape. Granted, Namjoon’s knowledge of human females is nearly as limited as Jimin’s, but he at least thought she might wait around to listen to him. He had only stepped away for a second, seeking to put on some acceptable clothing and then bring her some fresh water to drink so it might help clear her head.

“Oh,” Namjoon startles. “What do we have here?” He crouches down next to the crumpled form of a woman. The clothing is similar enough, but the woman is not the same one he rescued from the wreckage.

“Namjoon!” a familiar voice calls a moment before the sound of crunching leaves and soft grunts enters the small clearing at the foot of the incline leading into the heart of the jungle.

“Hoseok? What are you—oh, you found her.”

“Put me down, ya fish-eyed freak! Put me…fuck! Captain, oh seven seas, Captain! Put me down, for salt's sake!”

The small woman Namjoon rescued from the wreckage tumbles from Hoseok’s arms. She scrambles forward on her hands and knees to kneel beside the prone woman at Namjoon’s feet.

“You shouldn’t have wandered off,” Namjoon begins, only to be cut off by the murderous glare thrown up at him.

“What did ya do to ‘er?! I swear to the goddess below, if ya so much as put your slimy hands on ‘er, I’ll gut ya like the fish ya are!”

Namjoon backs away, his very not slimy hands in the air before him. “I only just found her. She was already like that.”

Hoseok shuffles his feet, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It was probably the others. I heard them singing earlier. I was coming to get you when I stumbled upon this one,” he says, gesturing with his other hand at the small woman with freckled cheeks and short blond curls, “trying to climb the cliffs. Nearly went over back into the ocean.”

“You have to help ‘er,” the blond woman says, all the fiery ire gone from her voice. She gently brushes sand from the other woman’s cheeks and hair, her fingers coming away sticky with blood. “Please.”

Namjoon had no intention of not helping the woman from the start. But, to placate the small one, he nods his agreement. “I will do what I can. But I need to pick her up.”

The blond one gives him a lingering look, clearly judging his merit, before sliding back on her knees to provide Namjoon with the space he needs to kneel beside the prone woman.

“Be careful wi’ ‘er head.”

Namjoon’s lips purse into a frown, his brain trying desperately to place the woman’s accent. It’s a mixed jumble, consisting of influence seemingly from multiple places. When the woman waves a frantic hand in Namjoon’s face, he blinks, startling back to the task at hand. There will be plenty of time later to figure out where the humans have come from.

Doing just as instructed, with careful ease, Namjoon takes the unconscious woman into his arms, letting her head rest against his naked chest. The linen trousers he pulled on earlier only come to mid-calf, his feet bare of the shoes he knows humans are partial to. The short pants were the only thing he found in Jimin’s chest of human treasures that remotely fit. It’s been so long since either of them had the company of someone other than their own kind that it hadn’t dawned on Namjoon that greeting the young woman in nothing but his skin wouldn’t be proper.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon says, dismissing his inner thoughts about human propriety surrounding clothing, and nods toward the opening to the cave system where Jimin should be waiting.

Hoseok, who is one of Namjoon’s closest friends, trails his eyes over the blond woman before offering her his hand. “Would you like to come with her?”

With no outward hesitation other than the slight narrowing of her eyes, the small woman slides her hand into Hoseok’s, and he hauls her to her feet. “I’m Ollie, by the way,” she says, her shorter legs keeping pace with Hoseok’s with little issue. “And, you’re Hoseok?” Namjoon has never seen his friend nervous, but right now, he’s pretty confident that’s exactly the emotion coloring his friend’s cheeks. Hoseok nods. “Well, I have a lot o’ questions, Hoseok. Maybe ya can answer some as we walk.”

🌊🌊🌊

You’ve had your fair share of blackouts in your life. What with how sour ale can fill your belly and the enticing bet to drink someone under the table…you’d be remiss in saying you’ve never awoken a time or two in a strange place with only a small inkling of how you ended up there.

However, doing it twice in a row is something new. Your head aches. Differently than it had before when you awoke on the beach. This is a skull-deep pounding, something that only comes when you catch an errant fist in a fight or take a sail boom to the back of the head.

You want to empty your stomach for a whole different reason now. The sickly feeling swirls in your belly, your eyes fluttering open as you dry retch. “Fuck,” you whisper coarsely.

“Captain!”

The relief at hearing Ollie’s voice is second to the splitting pain that ricochets through your head at her volume. “Softer, Ollie.”

“Oh, right.” Her freckled cheeks plump around the sheepish smile she gives you. “Sorry ‘bout that, Cap. I’m jus’ so happy to see ya awake. Ya plum near ended my days, seein’ ya layin’ there on the ground wi’ your head split open like a melon.”

You tenderly probe at the lump forming over your right temple. It’s warm to the touch, the flesh swollen and aching. You can feel the rough humps of stitching crisscrossing over the edge of the lump. You wince as your fingers map across the seven sutures. “I must look a sight. Did you stitch me up?”

“Beautiful as always, Cap. Would take a wonder stronger than’a rock to change that. And I wish I could take credit for ‘at beautiful jab job, but it wasn’t me.”

Gods love this woman; she’s a treasure you don’t deserve. Your eyes focus enough that you can take her in wholly. She sports her own discolored lump on the side of her jaw, and dark circles rim the soft skin under her eyes. There is a split at the corner of her mouth, and her right arm, you realize, is secured in a burlap sling. You’re so overwhelmed with taking her in that you don’t even register that she said she wasn’t the one to stitch you up. “Oh, Ollie,” you whisper softly. “What did I do to you?”

She jerks upright, indignation written all over her face. “This wasn’t you, Cap. This was that surly sea we love so much. Ain’t nothin’ I’ve never had before.” It’s clear she believes that wholeheartedly with the stern look in her eyes. “Besides, ya ought not worry about me. How’s yar head?”

You sit up slowly, your vision narrowing slightly as your world rights itself. Blinking, you let your eyes slide over your surroundings, taking an account of what’s around you. A soft mat and scattered blankets create a nest of comfort under you.

The walls are smooth stone with tiny carved-out nitches that form shelves holding a mix of books, shells, and other small trinkets. There is a homey feel to the sea cave, with a few chests and other odd bits of furniture lining the walls. You’d almost think you were in a bizarrely themed boarding room if it weren’t for the giant opening in the floor some feet away, the soft lap of water nibbling at the hole's edge.

Lichen sticks to the ceiling, its soft blue and green glow giving enough light that your eyes aren’t straining as you continue your perusal. Aside from the large hole in the floor, a narrow doorway leads into darkness on the other side of the room.

“Where are we?” you ask, choosing to focus on finding answers of your own rather than the incessant pounding of your skull.

Ollie rocks back on her heels, wrapping her good arm around her knees. You notice she’s not wearing the same clothes she wore the last time you saw her on the boat. Ugh, the boat…you don’t even want to think about that right now. The faded green tunic and sandy-colored breeches dwarf her tiny frame, the neck of the top hanging off one of her shoulders. You glance down and see her petite toes, her shoes nowhere to be seen.

She wiggles her toes, giggling softly. “Hoseok says bare feet’re better for walkin’ the tunnels. Less likely to slip and split my own noggin’.” She emphasizes the words with a rap of her knuckles against the side of her blond curl-covered head.

“Hoseok?” you ask, your attention catching on that name. It’s familiar, almost like you heard it in a dream, but far too fuzzy for you to be sure.

“Oh, he’s—”

“He’s right here,” chirps a jovial, masculine voice from the passageway across the room. “Nice to see you awake. Think you could stomach some stew? Would do you well to get something in your body.”

Your eyes grow as wide as saucers at the nearly naked man shuffling into the cavernous space. In his hands is a wide wooden board covered in what looks like chunks of bread, sliced fruit, and a bowl of steaming stew. The smell of the luscious, smoky broth hits your nose as he draws closer, and your stomach gives an appreciative gurgle.

“I promise the food is safe ta’ eat,” Ollie whispers, slanting a hand against her mouth in your direction. “It’s smoked fish stew. I had some earlier and even asked after seconds.”

That captures your attention, your eyes swinging in her direction, an incredulous look overtaking your face. “Ollie—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Rule number one: don’t accept food from blokes ya don’t know. But, Cap, I was starvin’, and I knew ya’d be in need of some food when ya woke. So, really, I did it for ya, had to make sure they wasn’t tryin’ to poison ya.”

You take a moment to assess Ollie’s countenance, realizing that aside from the visible bruises from her toss into the ocean, she seems no worse for wear. Her pallor is rosey, a healthy flush beneath her freckles, and her eyes are bright and clear.

“Just some water,” you say, your gaze flicking towards this Hoseok character.

“But, Cap—”

“For now, Ol. Just to be sure my stomach doesn’t sick up from anything more hearty.”

You hate lying to her. Even though she seems to be of her right mind, she almost seems too eager…too trusting. Which is so far removed from the Olivia Ramsey you know, the one who would turn her nose up in suspicion at even the slightest hint of stink. And this has the ripe stench of three-day-old chum all over it.

“Water then.” Hoseok nods, though his lips kick down in a frown as he sets the tray laden with food beside the tangle of blankets and pillows you woke up on.

“Thank you,” you mutter as Ollie hands you a ceramic cup from the tray. The contents look clear enough and holds no distinct odor as you give it a tentative sniff before putting it to your lips.

The water is crisp and surprisingly cool, tasting faintly earthy like it came directly from a rocky stream. You gulp it down, your aching and raw throat rejoicing with the soothing relief.

Hoseok squats down beside Ollie, your eyes tracking his every movement. His pants are thin, the worn fabric hanging loosely from his frame. It’s clear they’re not new, perhaps aged even further from the constant wear from the briny ocean air. His chest is bare, emphasizing a slender frame with smooth, corded muscles. His trousers might be worse for wear, but his eyes are a clear, beautiful brown, complimenting the shag of black hair on his head…though, there is something off-putting about him…something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I hope those stitches are okay. I tried not to tie them off too tightly, but it has been quite some time since I last performed such a task.”

Your lips twitch, brows furrowing ever so slightly. In all your years, you’ve had your fair share of stitches with everything from catgut wire to medical-grade thread. With just the brief inspection you gave your sutures, you can tell they’re on the better side. You’d maybe even go so far as to say they’re on par with a medical professional. Perhaps this Hoseok character is a sea-lost doctor washed up on shore once upon a time, the same as you and Ollie. “What is this place?” you ask him, your fingers flexing around the empty cup clasped in your hands.

“A sea cave—”

“No. I mean, what is this whole place? Where are we, exactly?” Your eyes flick away from him, darting across the walls as if you tried hard enough that you could see through the dark stone and figure it out yourself.

“I believe your kind calls this place Black Rock Bay. Though, that’s truly a misnomer, considering the rocks in the bay are more of a dark blue than black, but I can see how one might make that mistake.”

You blink at him, the cogs in your mind trying desperately to lock the details into place. Two things stand out above all the others—your kind and Black Rock Bay. So, clearly not a medical professional, and, wait—

“We truly made it?” you whisper, your lips suddenly feeling numb and your tongue thick like molasses.

“Just you n’me.” Ollie’s voice slices through the silence, landing you harshly back into the very stark reality of what happened. Your eyes meet hers for a brief moment, and she winces, an apology already forming on her cracked lips.

You shake your head, addressing her before she can take back her words. “There were no other survivors?”

The question was addressed to Hoseok, but another voice answers you. “None that we’ve found thus far, but we are still searching the shore and the wreckage.”

You’re better than the sound that rips from your throat. Maybe if you hadn’t taken a knock to the head, you’d have been able to hold your ground and have suppressed the surprise. As it is, the unintelligible squawk you emit echoes around the cavernous chamber as your eyes widen on the figure emerging from the lagoon pool on the other side of the room.

Pearlescent scales ripple along strong arms as hands brace against the lip of the lagoon. The shimmery teardrop shapes spread over an impeccably defined chest, blending into the creamy skin of a toned stomach and narrow hips before ending at the ridged blue and green band of a…tail? The long, flowing appendage slides over the stone as the figure pushes themselves completely out of the lagoon opening.

Water slicks off of them, the soft sloshing sending a gentle spray of misted salt water into the air. You watch in abject shock as the scales slowly recede with every drop of moisture that wicks away as the newcomer quickly brushes a length of fabric they grabbed from a nearby shelf over their body.

You want to reach out and finger the wet lengths of hair that swing with their every movement, like scattered moonlight on ocean waves. You’ve never seen hair quite so bright; it’s even lighter than the wheat-colored curls adorning Ollie’s head.

It’s a mesmerizing sight, watching the way the glittering scales disappear, melting away to reveal smooth and supple skin as if they never existed. Slender legs take shape; flexing toes and taut muscles speak of a delicate grace you’d never have associated with the male form before. And male it is…the very breath in your lungs stills as your eyes catch on the faint outline of a very prominent appendage before it’s covered by the now-damp cloth as he wraps it around his waist.

Brilliant mocha-colored eyes meet yours, the center of a controlled, measured look that gives absolutely nothing away. “Easy, Cap,” Ollie whispers a moment before you feel her hand grazing along your jaw.

You firmly snap your gaping mouth shut.

“I wish I had better news to share with you. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the storm you attempted to sail through was not a kind one. You’re fortunate to be alive, the both of you.”

“Holy Shining Seas,” Ollie mumbles, her fingers crossing over her chest in a sign meant to ward off evil. It’s an automatic gesture, one she does without thought, ingrained in her from a young age; well before she met the fates of the streets.

Your fingers itch to make their own sign. The few weeks you spent with Sister Agatha in the convent are ones sorely hard to forget, even at the best of times. You’ve never been religious, far from it. But those two weeks made you feel closer to hell than the deepest trench of the ocean ever could.

Clenching your fingers closed in the quilt beneath you, your mouth pops open instead. “Y-you…wait, you—is that? Was that—you, uh, your—your skin,” the last word comes out barely louder than a whisper.

Hoseok stands and crosses the room, snagging a pair of trousers from an open chest. He tosses them at the newcomer, firmly scolding him, “You know better than to skin shift in front of humans. Why didn’t you come in through the central lagoon?”

At that moment another voice filters through the room, coming from the same direction Hoseok had entered through. Your eyes flick away from the first unknown male to the empty doorway, a second before a tall, silver-haired man wearing pants far too short for him, and nothing else appears. In his hands is a worn red cap.

“I told Jimin it was a bad idea. But, you know how he is, a will stronger than the southern currents.”

The stranger with the calculating gaze—Jimin, it seems—rolls his eyes and huffs out an annoyed breath. “Would rather rip it out like an urchin barb, Namjoon, get it over with. Better that way in the long of it, considering our visitors will be here for quite some time.”

Namjoon. Jimin. Hoseok. Your eyes flick between the three strangers, noting the same sense you got from Hoseok earlier also radiates from the other two. As you watch them exchange heated words, the low timbre of their voices making their words hard to discern, Jimin tugs on the trousers Hoseok threw at him, and you realize what that odd feeling is. They’re…perfect. Too perfect, otherworldly.

It’s unnerving.

And now you’re sure you know why. As plain as the pearlescent scales and tail, the truth screams at you from the smooth skin of their foreheads to the perfectly straight, white teeth behind their rose-hued lips. No mere human could be so pristine. Clearly, the bewitching nature of a siren isn’t just exaggerated prose reserved for their voices.

“Is that Red’s cap?” Ollie asks, her voice low, meant only for your ears.

You force your eyes away from studying their faces to the crumpled lump clasped in Namjoon’s hands. It’s a detail your brain registered earlier but clearly was too muddled to fully comprehend.

“Where did you find that?” you ask, but you are only met with silence in response. The three males are still caught up in their soft bickering. You give Ollie a sidelong look, your face pinched in a frown before demanding louder, “Excuse me!”

Your barked words echo through the chamber, rebounding ten-fold and making even you wince at the sharp, biting sound.

“Where did you find that?” Ollie’s voice fills the sudden silence as she nods her head at the red cap in Namjoon’s grip.

Namjoon loosens his hold on the worn red fabric, the once vibrant carmine faded by the salt and sun to a tawny vermilion. An unmistakable blob of golden thread peeks out from one of the edges where Jory ‘Red’ Meander had haphazardly tried to stitch together a hole put there by a disgruntled card companion.

He had a penchant for gambling, not always with honest intentions, either. A scoundrel with a quick smile and charming hazel eyes. Despite being barely old enough to be let loose from his mother’s skirts, Jory joined your crew mere weeks before you got it in your head to chart a course for Black Rock Bay, demanding with a puffed-out chest that everyone refer to him as ‘Red’, like the color of his hat and the blood spilled at the end of his rapier, from here on out. Said it was a better-suited name for a future pirate mogul than Jory.

A few nights into your journey towards Black Roy Back, as you sat with Red in the crow’s nest watching the moon slip through the sky, he confessed that he actually chose the name Red because it reminded him of his mother with her fiery red hair and spit-fire attitude. But he figured that wouldn’t be a very pirate-like reason. He honestly had no business on your ship…but you were desperate for a full crew and, well—

“I-uh, I found it on the beach…I followed your footsteps back through the jungle.” Namjoon clears his throat before stepping close and offering the cap to you. “There was a man…a boy, really. His body—I’m sorry.”

You hesitantly take the hat. The soft fabric flops over the back of your hand, and a memory flashes through your mind. Red screaming at you, the stupid hat he refused to ever take off, sluicing the stinging water into his eyes, hauling you bodily through the turbulent water. Red forcing you above water, pleading with you to hold on…

Tears fill your eyes, but you don’t let them fall. Anger replaces the hurt pounding away in your chest. You will not fall apart now…not when…fuck. You furiously wipe at your eyes, sniffing back the burn welling in your nose. Red would laugh and waggle his brows at you if he knew you were getting choked up over him.

“Have you found others? Bodies, I mean.”

Jimin and Namjoon share a look, an exchange of words without making a sound.

Red. Jameson. McLaughlin. Straub. Okiro.

From the descriptions provided to you by Namjoon and Jimin, you mentally etch their names into your psyche. Men whose loyalty you once questioned are now forever lost to this world because of your petty grievances and selfish desires. And more yet to be confirmed…

You worry the edge of your thumbnail, fisting the red cap in your other hand over and over.

“Maybe ya should eat somethin’, Cap.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at Ollie right now, lest you might not be able to fight back the tears any longer. “I’m fine, Ol.”

“Some rest then,” Jimin says. “Hoseok, if you take Olivia to the storage room, you might be able to find her something a bit more fitting to wear in the alder chest, the one with the iron straps. You know which I mean?”

Hoseok makes an agreeable sound. You snap out of your stupor enough to realize Ollie stands up without so much as a mutterance of protest. In fact, she almost seemed eager as she took Hoseok’s hand, and he pulled her to her feet. There is a look on her face that you’ve never seen there before…it almost looks like longing. But that can’t be because that’s absolutely absurd. However, there she goes, giving you a girlish wave and mumbling, “Later, Cap. Get some rest, ‘k?”, as she allows Hoseok to lead her from the room.

“Wait, Ol—”

But just like that, Ollie walks out without so much as a backward glance before you can get the protest out of your mouth, her focus now solely on the male at her side. She has that same silly, infatuated look on her face.

And now you’re alone—alone with two strange males who are looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing they’ve ever come across. Perhaps you are…but most likely, they’re trying to come up with the best way to pick your bones clean.

You can feel the heat drain from your face, receding from the tips of your fingers and toes, turning into a wash of icy chills down your spine. You’ve heard enough songs about this…you know what happens next, yet you can’t get your body to do what you want it to. All you can do is stare, your eyes moving between the two males, your fingers holding a death grip on Red’s cap.

“Hungry?” Jimin asks, his eyes flicking to Namjoon.

Something is wrong…something is very wrong.

The taller male tilts his head to the side, eyes sliding up and down your seated form. “Yeah, Jimin, I’m hungry.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let the sudden wave of fear curdling in your belly show. Maybe Red should have just let the sea take you…

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

#bts fantasy #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x jimin #minimoni #bts sirens #pirate!reader #siren!namjoon #siren!jimin #namjoon smut #jimin smut #namjoon imagines #jimin imagines #bangtanwhq

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