Ah. Uh-oh. Oopsie.

After UN Biodiversity Conference: Let's Create Our Own Biodiversity

Last night, at a United Nations summit on biodiversity, called COP15, the majority of the world's nations signed a landmark agreement to protect 30 per cent of the worlds landmass and oceans by 2030. This comes at a time when one million of the roughly eight million known species in the world is threatened by extinction, a rate never seen before in human history. In spite of its sweeping success of reaching an agreement in the first place, there has been considerable criticism whether the goals are realistic to achieve in such a short time frame, or regarding the financial and economic details to implement such a decision.

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What Does It All Mean?

Now you may be jumping of joy that world leaders are actually coming together to save us from ecological disaster, or you may be more cynical, pointing at the myriad of previous such agreements, that were signed but later abandoned, modified, or simply turned out to be less effective than intended. If you ask me, all this doesn't matter too much. It's way more important what each of us does, in our own lives, to help biodiversity. The solutions are in fact ridiculously simple, but here I want to list a few of them again, just in case:

Don't Mow, Don't Rake, or if you must, Don't Do It Everywhere!

Okay, this goes for all those who have conventional lawns and park-like empty areas under their trees. Sure, you may enjoy seeing an expanse of short cropped grass, much like a soccer field or golf course, in front of your home. But is it really THAT necessary? Please keep in mind that not only does your lawn have its own maintenance costs, but it is actually more like a desert for any birds, insects, let alone the multitudes of soil dwelling species, who simply can't find a place to live there. The same goes for the Autumn chores of raking up all the leaves to burn them, or bag them up for someone else to do it. Those leaves would have done amazing work for the soil, starting with protecting it from the frost, providing shelter for creatures, all the way up to turning into nutritious topsoil.

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I'm not saying you shouldn't have a lawn at all, after all it is nice to have a grassy area to kick the ball around. But leaving a few unmowed islands here and there, even tucked away in corners or behind bushes, will make a huge difference for local species. You will see this right away with the increase of butterflies, just by leaving a bit of space where their favorite plants can grow. As for the leaves, again, it's okay if you want to have some leafless areas. But keeping some areas covered with leaves, especially around trees, is bound to make your place more alive with creatures of various types.

Plant Natives in and Around Your Garden!

There is a good reason why certain species are native to an area: they've evolved together with the place and each other, to maintain ecological balance. Each of them has their own series of contributions, which could fill books on each of them. Of course it is best to become familiar with native species, if we are occupying their space after all, but what's more important is letting them thrive and just do their thing. By doing so you will ultimately invite other native species to live with what they are most familiar with.

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This can start as small as a garden bed. Wild flowers and other "weeds" will bring in pollinators that the rest of your garden will also benefit from. These in turn bring in their predators, who will most probably also decimate your "pests" a bit. So everyone will benefit. If you want, you can extend it to bushes or even native tree species. If you go out to your local wilderness, you'll be able to observe these plants in their own habitat, check out who they love to team up with, so you can design your native area accordingly. Or, you could just lean back and let nature take its course. The result should be pretty similar.

Build a Pond!

One of the most certain ways to invite many different creatures to your place is by offering them the one most important thing in life: water! We're all made of water, so this constitutes a need that perhaps surpasses all others. No matter if you're an insect, a bird, a mammal, or a plant, you will need to drink. For this reason, a pond is bound to bring everyone together who gets thirsty, and then some. So building a pond is a great idea. Just make sure to keep some things in mind:

Give good access to all creatures, big and small! Some need a steeper shore, others require a very shallow one. Some prefer to hide between reeds or other plants, others like a sandy beach, still others love to hide between pebbles or sun themselves on larger rocks. Your pond should cater to all!

Make sure the size is right. In the winter you don't want all the water to turn to ice, so having a large volume with a good depth is essential. In the summer evaporation can be an issue, so having a shady part is also pretty important.

Many species will come at free will, but others need to be brought in. There is always a chance that a remote pond in the desert will have fish in it some day... but it's way easier to just introduce them. Make sure they are the right type who will appreciate your pond, and once they've started reproducing, as well as being eaten by others, you can proudly claim you've created fish habitat.

Give good access to all creatures, big and small! Some need a steeper shore, others require a very shallow one. Some prefer to hide between reeds or other plants, others like a sandy beach, still others love to hide between pebbles or sun themselves on larger rocks. Your pond should cater to all!

Make sure the size is right. In the winter you don't want all the water to turn to ice, so having a large volume with a good depth is essential. In the summer evaporation can be an issue, so having a shady part is also pretty important.

Many species will come at free will, but others need to be brought in. There is always a chance that a remote pond in the desert will have fish in it some day... but it's way easier to just introduce them. Make sure they are the right type who will appreciate your pond, and once they've started reproducing, as well as being eaten by others, you can proudly claim you've created fish habitat.

Be Your Own Biodiversity Resolution!

Whether you just leave a small "butterfly patch" in your otherwise close cropped lawn, or if you build a decent pond that migratory birds will start using as a pit-stop, you will have done your part in stepping up to counter our currently ongoing Great Extinction of the Anthropocene. In this case, you can really lean back and celebrate, because no matter what the actual outcome of the COP15 will be, local creatures will have a bit of a sanctuary in your place. And that deserves recognition!

Sources: 1, 2, 3

Summer Solstice in the year 2023

It’s on a drive out of the city that this place can be beautiful. That the location you have occupied for nearly two decades is home, and it’s only recently started to feel this way. Nothing will ever be home quite like this landscape, this feeling cannot be replicated.

It’s in the valleys you drive through, the townships and the hills. It’s in the people you are with, and that you only get to do this once.

Upon arrival, it’s in meeting someone “new” (I swear I’ve seen you before) and not feeling entirely uneasy. A little, sure, but this is tolerable. Most things are.

A bottle of wine, scotch whiskey, and other assorted illicit substances. Being on the back of a golf cart and watching the sky change colours and this world is so beautiful. There is sand and there is water and the city is only an hour away but everything is so different right here. This is in you, it is in the people you are with. This is slippery and intangible, but these traits also keep it safe from harm.

I’ve never seen this lake before and I love it dearly. At it’s centre: three power lines standing lonely on an island, someone’s said they look like people. I guess they might be ugly, but their presence is not up for debate, so I don’t think of what it would be like without them. I rather like these looming figures and I think they would like me, too.

Moving away from the sand, taking the route through the trees and the long grass. The trees have eyes, but if sentient, they are gentle creatures. The eyes of god are watching us and if so I know not if they are gentle but this isn’t up to me and there’s nothing I could do to change it. The trees, however. The trees I like. We breathe together for a while, they open up and they are behind us.

A wooden fence equipped with barbed wire, musings about what that crop might be. A drop of blood, a newly tattered wool sweater. One or two trespassing attempts unsuccessful, an opening created and one of us is on the other side of the fence. Is it cruel to harvest a plant? They seemed happy to rest here. Still, it’s anything in the name of discovery and soon this mystery vegetable joins us on our side of the wall. A bouquet of flowers, a treasure, a gift from the earth.

There is a way off this grassy ledge and onto the sand and we soon find it. The water is cold and the sky is that perfect sort of sunset because we’re looking south instead of directly at it. I always preferred the softer pinks and blues to the heady oranges. It’s almost like a sunrise instead, and I’ve forever loved those more. The sand is back, and the plants growing here have altered the paths where the rain has flown down the beach and joined the larger body once more. They’re like veins, sort of. Is it up to the observer to decide if the water was drawing nearer to or pulling away from the lake?

A sword (log) in the stone (sand) and I hardly know what happens in that story but it doesn’t matter because this story is ours and I know this. That driftwood in the beach looks at peace here, was it wrong to disturb the log? Is it our right to alter the world around us just as in return it alters us? The stolen vegetable is passed around and now there is dirt in my mouth. Unplaceable familiarity, close to something but not quite.

Returning to the original launch point. There is talk of a baptism and valuables are held for safekeeping. Frozen legs, being ready to act if something goes wrong (maybe the person in the lake shouldn’t be the one tripping, but who is anyone to deny another the right of passage into the afterlife?). A pause, a delay, face first into the cold waters. A hoodie gifted for warmth and drip drying when it’s already dark and getting cold.

The newly baptized takes the wheel and this goes better than expected. The sun has set now, and what was already a ghost town sinks even further into sleep. Not in this little space we occupy, however. Gripping the side bars and laughing the whole way, a slight detour to extend this moment and we arrive safely.

Softer fabrics, I think walls come down when the sun sets. A movie plays, not a single word of dialogue registered. Is it more human to be a robot made of flesh or a robot shaped like a person?

The group divides and two go for a walk. You’re glad I came with you. How can anyone just say that? This place feels fake, and it is almost certainly where the Truman Show is set. That, or one of those nuclear testing neighbourhoods. We still haven’t seen a single other person since we got here. Hushed voices, 24 hour surveillance.

A playground. There’s nothing quite like being two people after one in the morning. The stars are so easy to see here, I can’t remember which constellation is the W (cassiopeia?). A shooting star that I see, and then another that you do. Is it okay to never remember words, just feelings? We would all be better off if we spent more time speaking quietly with one another under the cover of night. I like getting to know people but I miss having people that already knew so much. Where does that connection go when things end?

On the come down. I don’t know what you’re feeling right now. I think that one day I’ll try these with you but I don’t say it. The street lights are so odd here, the city is an hour away and that means everything gets to be different.

Checking the doors to the building next to the empty pool just on the off-chance they’re unlocked. The red light on the security camera that is pointed directly at you. A walk back. Thank you for coming with me.

They’ve left the lights on, they needed someone to come back to turn them off. Crawling into the little cave that is the lower beds in the bunkhouse. I’ve always been anxious at night and I can never sleep in new places. I don’t feel that here. Not another word is spoken. Complete darkness, something electrical buzzes quietly.

Fresh faces in the morning and shockingly good sleep on all accounts. The sun is firmly up and as much as this place is unusual, it is not at all sinister. Far fewer places are, these days. Who’s to say if they’ve changed or I. A final trip on the cart to get back to the visitor parking lot. Goodbyes and good to see you agains.

Homeward bound but in no hurry. A saloon found in a place we did not look for on a map. The coffee is good here and the bartender knows all the regulars and makes a point to include the two of us in her conversations. Back in the jeep, choosing music perfectly fitted to the scenery.

Secondary highways, using only memory to get home. Silence is always comfortable if you aren’t sitting there thinking about how some people say it isn’t supposed to be. The clouds are the best kind, two days in a row. I’m biased now but I don’t know how people believe that this place is entirely bad. Sometimes home is rough around the edges and leaves grit in your mouth, lake water in your hair.

The longest day of the year, come and gone. Summer rises and stretches out before us. These weeks are ripe for the taking, and will soon go to rot. Beginnings and endings aren’t so different. I wish I could remember things forever.

Given that we know virtually nothing about the Silken Squall, I’ve done my best to try and hash out how an isolated floating city could function and thrive. Please do add on your own ideas and takes, I’m trying to write a canon-divergent fic set there and short of shaking Matt Mercer down and begging him for details this is the best I have!

Layout

The Silken Squall is described as beautiful, light, a floating city of tents, and so I’m imagining something long and wide and flat, not unlike a souped up flying carpet. The whole city would flex and warp slowly as it travels through the skies, with certain parts being the highest point one day only to be the lowest point the next. The tents are all the colours of the sky, ranging from a deep midnight navy embellished with silver at one end, down to lighter blues and greys, and finishing up with a sunset burst of oranges and pinks. Like most cities, it would be broken up into several quarters/regions:

Aristocratic quarter: these would be the darkest, biggest tents, those of the Wyvernwind family and those closest to them. Space on a floating city would be at a premium, and so these tents would be some of the few that have gardens surrounding them: perhaps a manicured lawn and some carefully selected flowers that grow well at altitude, but nothing with deep roots like trees or large bushes. If there are any trees they are small, ornamental, kept in pots rather than planted into the ground.

Residential quarter: this is where majority of the Squall’s inhabitants live, in tents of every shade of blue imaginable. A couple might have modest gardens, but most residents have to make use of the central, communal park at the centre of the quarter.

Trading quarter: this area combines with the docks to form the centre of the Squall’s trade, with grey and white cloud coloured tents surrounding the bays where airships can dock. It’s the most heavily guarded part of the city, as only trusted outsiders and invited guests are allowed out of the trading quarter and into the rest of the city. There’s likely an inn or two, and a large white tent embroidered with gold thread to serve as a place of worship for the Squall’s visitors. Trade is conducted quickly and efficiently, and merchants rarely stay more than a night; those merchants that do trade with the Squall are the result of generations-old contracts, a handful of trusted families around Exandria who are permitted to conduct trade with the city.

Artisanal quarter: this is where the rest of the shops and inns are based, selling everything from clothes and furnishings to weapons and musical instruments. The tents are the brightest of any in the Squall, a sea of yellow and orange and pink that if you catch at just the right time of day, blends in seamlessly with the setting sun itself.

Horticultural area: a floating city has to sustain itself, and so most of the farming and industry is conducted on a slightly smaller island that floats to the side of the main Squall, connected by long, flexible bridges.

Sustainability

So, you’re living on a high-altitude floating city with restricted space and a lack of farmable land... what do you do? Hydroponics! Instead of soil, many crops can be grown in nutrient rich water, typically in greenhouses- or greentents, in this situation. I’m picturing a separate floating landmass, connected to the main city with bamboo bridges and absolutely covered in transparent tents, each growing various produce inside. There would be little meat reared in the Squall: perhaps some poultry, but certainly no pigs or cattle or fish. Bird “fishing” is likely a thing, with long nets being let down over the sides of the squall to catch certain birds.

I would imagine dairy is also not produced en masse, but there would be a few high altitude mammals like yaks kept both for their milk and wool. As far as grains go rice is likely the staple over breads and pastas, as honestly I can’t imagine a huge mill grinding up wheat in the Squall.

Finally, because I can’t get involved in world-building without considering the toilet aspect, all waste would be recycled down in the agricultural section. Or magicked away, your choice.

Trade

Based on purely the name alone, I would say that the Silken Squall’s primary export is silk. Without an abundance of land to farm or mine or raise livestock on, sericulture seems like a good option. The silk worms are probably grown in tents adjacent to the horticultural zone, being fed off leaves grown there. They may even grow certain plants specifically to feed the silk worms to ensure high quality, making silk from the Squall enough of a must-have item that they can be sustained from one main export alone (I don’t know if the Wyvernwind family charge a fee for imparting tidbits of their generational knowledge, but even so that seems like too unsustainable an income to base an economy around)

There’s also the possibility that the environmentally controlled atmosphere of the greenhouse tents would also give the Squall extra income when passing over certain areas of Exandria- they could trade in out of season produce, or produce not commonly found in certain continents.

The items they’d want to bring in to the Squall would be everything they can’t make themselves given their insular, high-altitude nature. Fabrics like cotton, raw materials like stone and iron. There’s likely a forge or two in the Squall, but I would imagine imported metalworked objects like weapons and jewellery would still be desirable. Meat too, either fresh and preserved with blocks of ice (or magic!) or dried, along with longer life dairy items like cheese and perhaps processed grains to make bread with. Salt is also a key import, necessary for preserving the food grown in the Squall.

Strong timber would also be a key import, though perhaps not crucial- I imagine something like bamboo could be grown in the horticultural section, and this would be used for most of the structural elements of the city, but thicker, sturdier woods like oak would often come in useful for crafting furniture or repairing airships and the like.

Until i met you

𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

The anon request: G’day gorgeous, was wondering if i could request jj x kook reader! Shes rlly great friends w/ rafe, topper, kelce but somehow ends up falling for a pogue(jj) and she keeps the lil crush a secret from her friends? fluff if you will🥰

Warnings: swear words, fluff & angst (theres a punch on)

A/N: reading my own fics makes me cringe for some reason lolol anyways, i hope y’all like this one!! 🌸✨

For the sake of the story, JJ works at a cafe called ‘The Milk Bar’ & he’s a barista there.

You perch yourself onto a dark blue beach towel, not quite sure if it was yours or Kelce’s since your towels were almost identical. It was high noon and the sun beat down with intense ferocity that caused sweat to trickle down your neck and back as a few strands of baby hair clung to your forehead. You felt like you were showering in your own sweat and even though this big old tree hovered above the four of you, sheltering y’all from the sun just a tad and a cold drink stowed in your left hand, it still wasn’t enough for the heat to be bearable.

Not to mention that the sand was far too hot to walk on. whose idea was it to flee to the beach on the hottest day of the summer? the sidewalk was hot enough to fry an egg for crying out loud.

“Whose idea was it to come here?” Kelce whined as if he read your mind. Topper clicks his tongue from where he stood, turning himself around to face Kelce with an annoyed expression. “I'm sorry man, I thought it would be a good idea okay? sorry for suggesting” he replies with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Whatever dumbass”

“You know what Kelce, you’re a dick”

“What? how?”

“You’ve done nothing but complain the entire time we’ve been out and I’m-“

“Yeah, I don't care- how come your pool is malfunctioning itself when we need it the most? Explain yourself Top”

“I have literally explained it twice already! have you not been list-“

“Will you two shut up for a fucking second?” Rafe bellowed as he ran a hand through his soaked blond locks, fingers hovering just above the screen of his new Iphone.

You chuckled lightly at the three in front of you, bringing up the cold water bottle to your lips for the hundredth time that day. “It was a good idea at the time Toppy, but right now it’s just way too hot to walk around this sand” you factually state, smiling up at the pouty boy sweetly.

“Shall we leave then and go back to my place?” Kelce suggested and you nod enthusiastically. This heat was getting worse by the minute and you were sure that you would pass out at any moment. Rafe waves a hand in the air, not having a single care about the conversation and where the group ends up at, his attention still glued to his phone. Topper’s shoulders deflate a little. Seemingly annoyed at his friends for wanting to leave the beach so suddenly but an idea crosses his mind.

“Yo why don’t we head to the Milk Bar first? I heard that place sells the best ice cream on the island and it’s not even that far from here!”

A pretty hostess around her mid twenties welcomed you once the four of you arrived at the small cafe Topper had suggested and as you drink in the aroma of the place you couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t all that from what you heard from the other kooks, charitably speaking. But it was definitely very well decorated with it’s interior warm and cheery and colourful walls and it’s ridiculous amount of flower pots. It was simple, but nonetheless cute in it’s own way.

You were about to scold the boys for looking like a bunch of perverts ogling at the pretty hostess but before you could do so, a cute barista behind the marbled countertop caught your eye. His blond hair was unruly; tied up into a tiny cute bun at the top of his head and a loose black shirt covering his frame along with a brown apron.

Damn those arms. You tilt your head thoughtlessly to get a better angle of the way his arms flex through his tee, not at all realizing how you look to the others who stared at you with curious eyes.

“Oh fuck no”

You snapped out of your daze and angled your neck to look at Rafe who was sitting beside you, his brows furrowed, lips formed into a somewhat frown. You took one last glance at the blond barista and then back at the other blond next to you. Not quite understanding why Rafe all of the sudden became tense. You were the new kook on the island and have only been around for about three or four months, give or take? After all those months of being around the three, insanely attractive kooks, you never actually took notice on how protective these boys had become over you. ‘Never get yourself involved with a pogue. They are dirty, weak and all around devious’ was one of the rules you had to commit to. Ridiculous i know, but you loved the friends you came to know so you obeyed.

“That blondie over there? He’s a pogue and the worst one possible so don’t even think about going there” Rafe asserts protectively and you felt intimidated under his intense stare. Not knowing what to say, you just nodded in response and Rafe gave your nose a gentle boop, end of conversation.

“-whatever Kelce, anyways, who's paying?” Topper speaks with a mouthful of strawberries in his mouth, making you grimace at the sight before you. You reached over the table to close his mouth and hand him a few serviettes for the mess he made around himself.

“Not me”

“Yeah, not me either!”

“Nhut meh”

“Ew Toppy eat with your mouth closed for the love of god! And don’t worry you idiots, i'll pay” you offered with the roll of your eyes. For a bunch of rich kids they sure don’t wanna pay for themselves. ‘You’re richer than us combined’ Rafe would announce childishly whilst the other two agreed with certainty. What a bunch of dorks.

Upon making it at the front counter, you feel yourself freeze as you come face to face with the cute barista you had your eyes on. You couldn’t identify the colour of his eyes from the distance of where you sat but evidently, they were ethereally a deep ocean blue that was so full of life. He had smooth sun-kissed skin and if you lean in just a bit, you could see the small freckles sprinkled about like confetti. This boy was beautiful from head to toe it seems and there was no denying that.

“Hello, how was everything miss? Have our desserts reached up to your satisfactions?” He asked, the tonality of his voice sounded just as good as he looks. You reply back with an audible yes, biting down on your bottom lip slightly out of a nervous habit. After all, you were always the shy type. Especially around handsome strangers such as- you took a glimpse at the name tag pinned on the strap of his apron- JJ. Handsome strangers such as JJ.

“I especially loved the coffee chocolate um..” you trail off, having forgotten the name of the dessert you ordered but luckily JJ knew exactly what you were referring to. “Ah yes, the coffee chocolate ripple ice cream. That’s everyone's go-to around here” the blond chuckles and you nod. “I’m not surprised to be honest, coffee ice cream slaps! It’s the best out of all the other flavors i reckon”

He didn’t match your enthusiasm for the flavour, since chocolate was his favourite, but then your eyes lit up and the prettiest of grins decorated your undoubtedly stunning features, making him swoon at the pure sight. He claimed that it was his favourite ice cream, just so he could see that smile on your face again. He thought he’d seen you somewhere before. Definitely not a past hook up because how could he forget such a pretty face? His eyes flashed towards your table and then back at you. As if a lightbulb had been switched on in his mind, his eyes widen when his brain contemplated on who you were. He asked for your name and sure enough, you were the one he was thinking of. The new kook from Figure Eight. The chick who was glued to Rafe’s side at all times, Topper’s best friend and Kelce’s family friend. JJ hated those stuck up, pieces of shits and he wanted to despise you by simply being around them, but he felt drawn to you. The reasoning for that is unknown to him, so unusual and unfamiliar. Maybe it was because you looked angelic standing in front of him and the innocence radiating off of you got him believing that you were different from the rest.

☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎

“Is this even a top?”

You reached out toward your maroon curtains and drew it aside in one swift motion, spinning back around to rummage through the diverse of clothes sprawled across the bed. JJ held a white lace up, silk crop top in his hands, observing it attentively with arch brows. “Where’s the back of this shit?” He asked, pulling on the strings to untangle it from the soft material.

“Dude it’s supposed to be a backless top and stop pulling on the strings! You���ll ruin it!” Snatching the top out of his hands, you throw him the white tee he accidentally left at your house last week. That’s what led you both here actually, getting ready together for another boneyard party, with your clothes all out and about everywhere messily because JJ’s favourite top was missing from his own closet. He ran to you without a second thought, already knowing that if he somehow loses something of his, it will undoubtedly be at your house.

After your first encounter with the blond at the Milk Bar, (that seemed like it was just yesterday but in fact it was almost a year ago now) JJ had been nothing but an amazing friend to you since. Much to the dismay of your three boy-friends.

JJ kept in touch with you after the countless amount of times he ran into you at a boneyard party. Never had he met anyone who could drink him under the table up until you, hence, wanting to keep you as close as possible. You got along with his friends well, too well to be exact as if you were a pogue yourself, and it was only the way you dressed and styled your hair that made you look so out of place with them. They loved you nonetheless, more so than they could admit but you were still a kook that was slumming it with the kooks, with Rafe out of all people.

“Thanks cutie” JJ reaches over his head to undress, replacing his gray cut off tank with the shirt you handed him. After months on end of watching this guy undress in front of you, whether that would be at the beach or him wanting to have a shower in your bathroom, it still made your heart flutter and butterflies to erupt in your belly. “Liking the view babe? Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer” he flirts, winking and blowing a kiss your way.

With a click of your tongue, you swat at the hands he raised to pinch your cheeks, puffing them out in frustration when JJ tugged on the strands of your hair like a toddler. “Piss off Jay” turning away from the touchy blond and headed to the bathroom. “Nah you love me!” He calls out and you scrunch up your nose, voicing out an audible gag. “Hey i heard that!”

“Yeah you were meant to”

☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎

The waves rolled in, churning across the sand on the shore as the sun began to set like it does naturally. Teenagers were laughing and swaying their hips to the music that was booming out of the big speakers you offered to pay not long ago, as a gift from you to the pogues. Your eyes wandered from person to person, trying to spot your kook friends from where you sat on the log and when you couldn’t find them anywhere in the crowd you slowly brought your eyes back on your favourite blond, who held his gaze at you expectantly. Like he was waiting on a response. Oh wait.

“Oh sorry JJ, what did you say?”

“I think she’s had enough to drink”

“We literally just got here like an hour ago Pope” JJ says comically, bringing the beer he held up to his lips. Blue eyes still fixated on your frame. “Yeah so, as i was saying Y/n/n, do you remember that time you had to tell your dad that i was gay because he caught me in your room once?”

you laughed aloud at the memory whilst the others around you did so as well. “I got in so much trouble dude, you have no idea.” From the corner of your eye you caught a familiar bright red button up shirt. Twisting your head and narrowing your eyes in that direction, you can clearly make out Rafe’s broad shoulders arrayed in the red button up, Topper’s fat head and Kelce’s dark skin. You’re sure they haven’t seen you yet because otherwise they would have been dragging your ass back to where they occupied themselves. Surrounded by bimbo, fake breasted tourons.

You tensed when you felt a presence beside you. JJ had his ring clad fingers at the nape of your neck, massaging the skin affectionately whenever he sensed the stress emitting out of you. Leaning into his touch, you casted your attention away from your three best friends and focused on the one who held your heart. “You good?” He asked worriedly, his voice was smooth and velvety. You felt those butterflies again knowing that he was only this soft around you. “The three musketeers are here” you murmured, counting the faint freckles on his cheeks and nose.

JJ sat a little straighter to peek over your head, spotting Alvin and his chipmunks almost immediately. “Rafe’s wearing the brightest red shirt i have seen” he cringed, causing a giggle to escape your lips at the disgusted look on JJ’s face. “I know, we all hate it but it’s his favourite, so”

“I’m surprised you actually let him go out like that? Aren’t you a fashion freak?” You boop his nose with your finger, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth when you became aware of the close proximity. JJ was so close that you would almost kiss him if he moved an inch. He so desperately wanted to claim those lips but what if it was a bad idea?.

It was definitely a bad idea. What if she reciprocated though? He thought. You didn’t move, nor did he. JJ was gazing at you like he was looking far beyond the makeup and for once, you didn’t feel insecure or nervous under his gaze. You felt loved and cared for. Nobody has looked at you the way JJ Maybank does.

Those ocean eyes fall onto your lips so quickly you almost missed it. Your hands start to sweat just as they shake. He’s leaning forward and your instinct was to swerve and avoid kissing a pogue before Rafe and the others see but you find yourself mirroring his actions. fluttering your eyes shut, his chapped lips brush yours lightly, before planting them on your delicate ones completely. Your heart hammered in your chest, not sure if you felt light headed because of the alcohol you consumed or from the way lips danced with yours perfectly.

You were hauled away from JJ as fast as the kiss had happened, and suddenly people came from every direction to surround the group of you. Topper had JJ in a headlock, with Rafe continuously ramming his fist to JJ’s stomach. “Rafe no! Stop!” Kelce’s grip was strong on your waist, keeping you solid in his embrace. You kicked and screamed for Rafe to stop. The stubborn bastard not hearing a single word you screeched.

“Rafe please, enough! Topper let him go!”

John B and Pope come into view, throwing themselves at the two kooks heedlessly whilst Sarah and Kie bellow for the fight to stop. You elbow Kelce in the stomach, causing his grip on you to loosen and seeing this as an opportunity, you shove at his chest forcefully. Kelce falls flat on his side and you keep a mental note to apologise to your friend later. Recklessly, you dash through the fight. Avoiding the swinging hands and massive bodies as Sarah cries out your name in a panic, worried that you’d end up getting trampled by the boys.

“J- JJ!” You fell on your knees and scooped up the blond’s head, inspecting his face for any new bruises besides the faint ones he already had. JJ only sported a bleeding lip and you were terrified to see what work Rafe’s done to his stomach. “Rafe what the hell is wrong with you?!” Your voice cracked when you shouted, which captured Rafe and Topper’s attention. “That dickhead harassed you!” Topper barked, like the drama queen he was. “No he didn’t you fucking idiot Top, i kissed him!”

“Why Y/n? Do you like this dirty pogue now? He’s nothing but a scum on this Island”

“No he’s not Rafe, I love him!!”

The world seemed to stop spinning. The words passing through your lips before you could stop them from slipping. JJ’s eyes widen, as do the multiple eyes around you. Your face conveyed an emotion Rafe simply did not understand, but the way you pulled JJ further into your chest, with your brows sloped downwards in a serious expression made his eyes glazed over. “You love him?” The kook leader asked melancholy. JJ lifts up a comforting hand to wipe away the tears that flowed down your warm cheeks. “Yes Rafe. I love him”

“You love him?!”

“Oh my god- yes Toppy, i said it already!!”

“Say it again” JJ pleads.

“Rafe i’m sorry.” You affirm, sniffling, and trying your best to blink calmly when you felt your eyes start to well up with tears again. You helped JJ to his feet, placing a firm hand on his chest when he clenched his fist and started to walk forward, probably to start the fight up again. JJ stared at Rafe menacingly, but Rafe couldn’t focus on anything but you. His blood boiled seeing you locked under the pogue’s arm. “No, I’m sorry” was the last thing he said before stalking away and dragging two of your best friend’s by the arm.

“W- wait Rafe!? Y/n/n!” Topper hollers, stressfully prying off the tight clutch Rafe had on his arm but to no avail. “I’ll call you later Top, I promise!” The whines from Topper trails off as the three of them disappear from your sight. You internally hoped that Kelce wouldn’t run his mouth to your parents about JJ and the fight that went down at the boneyard. You were in enough trouble as it is.

You cup your face in your hands, sighing heavily. The anxiousness creeped up your spine like a cobra and you wanted nothing more than to lie down in the soft mattress of your bed and maybe with JJ too? To be completely honest, you weren’t quite sure what kind of feelings the playboy harbors for you because of all the mixed signals that you had to endure through the long months of knowing him. You opened your mouth and prepared to belt out your frustrations when you were suddenly stopped by a pair of lips. JJ drew away quickly and caressed both your cheeks with his freezing hands, leaning in so his forehead rested on yours.

“No one has ever loved me before” he pecks your lips in a swift kiss. “Truth be told, I have never been in love, but that was until I met you and never did it cross my mind that a spoiled kook like yourself could keep me grounded” JJ chuckles at his own cheesiness, pulling you closer by the waist. Your ears perk up on the cheers and the clapping from everybody who witnessed the whole scene, including your pogue friends who cheered JJ on for getting the girl.

“Wanna do something cliche, and possibly cringy?” You asked the blond. JJ tilts his head amusingly and before he could answer, you were dragging him away towards the shore, skipping in your steps all the while JJ rolls his eyes playfully with the shake of his head at your silly antics.

Sarah watches you spurt away with JJ, the hint of sympathy tinges at her heart for her brother who she perceived was in love with you. Rafe can be an impulsive dick at times, hard headed and a weirdo but the thing he had most in common with Maybank was that Rafe also never loved anyone up until he met you.

storm

essar x lorcan, alternate canon au, domestic fluff, word count: 1556

Outside, the storm rages. The windows and cupboard doors rattle, the noise forcing tension to crawl up her spine. Essar sighs softly and turns over again, just as a clap of thunder erupts in the skies above. The female startles, immediately reaching for her bedmate.

As she stretches towards him, she hesitates, her eyes tracking over his slumbering face. He’s been so tired lately, what with all their preparations for the winter. She shouldn’t bother him, she thinks. With another sigh, Essar returns to her spot and tucks her hands beneath her pillow. She closes her eyes, but the flash of lightning is bright and they open a moment later.

She curses into her pillow, frowning in annoyance. Essar peeks out at her mate, who has hardly moved, except to rub the tip of his nose and wrinkle his brow. She turns her head and watches him, silent. Something in her chest calms as she continues staring at Lorcan, but she knows that sleep will still evade her. Carefully, the Fae gets up from her bed and pads across the mat-covered floor to the door of their bedroom.

Essar slips through the door and walks down the hall, Lorcan’s shirt falling to her mid-thighs. Her bright eyes trail over their cosy cabin, seeing the fire that glows in the coals of their fireplace. Before it, on a soft wolf pelt rug, her clothes are still laying rumpled from their… frenzy. A smirk pulls at her plump lips and Essar scurries into the kitchen, her body recalling his warmth. After her tea, she’ll curl up next to him and his presence will soothe her back to sleep.

The storm attempts to shake the house, but it doesn’t bother her as much anymore. Essar feeds kindling and larger pieces of wood into the oven, summoning her flame to set it alight. The heavy kettle is still halfway full, so she won’t need to fetch water for it. She puts it down on the metal surface and takes a mug down from the shelf.

She spins to the island counter, where they keep a collection of various everyday dried herbs to make their drinks. There’s a hand-sized mortar and pestle next to the collection. Essars plucks a small jar from the neat row and pries the cork off with an audible ‘pop’. She tilts it to the side, trying to determine how much of the tea blend is left.

A week or so ago, they traveled to the nearest village to stock up on supplies that were hard to come by, like specialty dried flowers and roots, dairy products like butter and a dozen pints of goat milk, eggs, flour, and sugar too. Their pantry is well stocked and Essar knows they don’t need to worry about starving over the colder months.

She takes a small linen bag and shakes some of the blend into it, then ties the drawstring closing shut and puts it in her cup. While she waits for the kettle to boil, Essar keeps her eye on the weather outside, watching it whip at their sheet-covered crops. A slight frown graces her brow. She doesn’t like to see their plants so abused.

It doesn’t take long for the kettle to boil. When its steam billows in the air, Essar lifts it off of the stove and carefully fills her cup a few centimetres beneath the rim. Then she lets it steep for a few moments as she hunts for the honey. She knows her love has hidden it somewhere. It’s a joking habit of theirs, wanting to keep the sticky-sweet treat all for themselves.

Essar finds the jar quickly and takes the teabag out. As she stirs in some honey, she hears steady footsteps tracking across the wood floor, made audible so that she isn’t scared moments later. Two big, tattoo-covered arms circle around her waist and his head comes down to rest his face in the crook of her shoulder. “Essar,” Lorcan grumbles, clearly displeased from waking up to an empty bed. He sniffs and presses his lips to the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her, “S’matter, love?”

“Nothing,” she murmurs back, resting her free hand on his forearm. “Just can’t sleep. The storm.” Essar stirs in her honey and turns to look at him. Lorcan’s eyes are shut and she grins, leaning back against him. She loves the way his shoulders curl around her, protecting her.

He hums, “Why didn’t’cha wake me?”

“You… you were sleeping. And you’ve been working so hard lately.” Heat blooms across her crescent-shaped cheeks, knowing that he’ll think her reasons ridiculous. The male leaps at chances to comfort her and fuss over her. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Lorcan gently nips at her soft brown skin, his elongated canines scratching harder than the others. “You could never bother me, Tangaroa.”

She smiles and turns her head to kiss his temple, “Alright, darling. Would you like some tea?”

He sighs through his nose and lifts his head, humming lowly. “No, s’alright. Just wondered where ya were.” Lorcan taps Essar’s hip so she’ll turn and she does, her tea cupped between both hands. Lovingly, with such care, he brushes her wavy hair back and kisses her forehead, “Is it the storm?” His mate has never taken well to them. Storms don’t frighten her, per se, they simply disrupt her sleep and are a tiresome, stress-inducing nuisance.

Essar nods, “Yes. Come sit with me.” She reaches behind her to take one of his hands and neatly spins out of his arms, leading him to their living room. They bypass the large couch in favour of the armchair. It’s a snug fit, what with Lorcan’s towering stature. Essar is not a small being either – the top of her head comes just past his chin. Her legs are across his lap, her backside on the cushion beside his left thigh. Lorcan rests a hand on her thigh and eases his other arm around her waist, his fingers splayed across her ribcage.

She laughs when she sees his eyelids drooping and kisses the bridge of his nose, “Tired, are we?”

He smiles softly and nods. Blinking hard a few times, Lorcan sits up straight and strokes his thumb over her side as Essar sips on her sweetened tea. “Gimme a sip,” he implores her, nudging his chin towards her mug.

Essar smirks and arches a brow up while she moves her drink away from him. “Thought you said you didn’t want any.”

His grin widens, showing her those dishy dimples that they both know she’s weak for. “Just a wee bit, my love.” She rolls her eyes and concedes, letting him have a taste. In thanks, Lorcan kisses the curve of her shoulder before resting his chin atop her head.

She nestles into him and clicks her tongue, “Ya big thug. Stealing your mate’s tea. How shameful.”

Lorcan huffs a laugh through his nose and winds his fingers through her hair, his neat nails scratching her scalp. Essar melts instantly, near purring as her eyes become hooded and gently slip shut. Unseen by her, the male smiles a pleased smile, pride sparking in his chest at the sight of the female he adores happy under his care. Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes, staying curled where she is, and finishes her tea slowly.

He takes her empty mug and puts it on the end table, right next to a stack of books. “Feeling ready to sleep now?” Lorcan asks her softly, petting her hair gently. Essar hums and kisses the underside of his jaw.

“Yes, but… only if you… carry me,” she whispers, voice drowsy and sweet.

“Of course,” Lorcan tells her, hooking his arm beneath her knees and the other across her shoulders. He cradles her against his chest and stands smoothly, walking across the cabin. The storm seems to have lessened in its intensity, the strikes of lightning softer, the rolling of thunder gentler.

He bumps the door open with his hip and kicks it shut, remembering to not use full force. Essar is seconds away from true slumber, he can feel it as she becomes heavier and heavier in his arms, relaxing into him. He won’t do anything to jeopardise her rest.

The layered blankets and quilts on their bed are rumpled, pushed to the foot of the mattress. Lorcan sets Essar down and eases himself beside her. She makes a noise in the back of her throat and shifts closer to him as he pulls the covers over them.

Essar fits herself against him, stretching her arm across his waist and hitching her leg over his hip. Her head is rested against his chest. Lorcan runs his hand down her side and fits his hand in cradle above her hip, making the shirt she’s wearing bunch up. He rubs his thumb over her waist and she hums again, shifting so that her chest is cushioned against his.

He buries his face in her hair, smelling her gentle sea salt and tiare blossom scent. “I love you, Ess.”

More asleep than not, his mate mumbles an incomprehensible jumble of words, but he smiles all the same, knowing exactly what she’s saying. With all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

<3<3<3

an: i realise i dont have a taglist for this so......im going to tag a couple people who i know appreciate essar n lorcan <3 let me know if u want to b added for future writings !

@sassyhobbits @hellasblessed @ladyverena

part of the 2020 sapphest fic fest, cross-posted to ao3

pairing: jungkook x hoseok x namjoon

word count: 8.1k  ||  rating: sfw  ||  genre: magical realism

summary: jungkook doesn’t know what she wants in life. but maybe the cottage-dwelling botanist and warlock she moves in with could help. or, perhaps, they might even be the answer.

notes: i apologise if this isn’t up to scratch, i haven’t written an actual oneshot i think since jan/feb (?) so i know i’m rusty. also, this fic contains a trans female jungkook, cis female namjoon and non binary hoseok so i really do hope i’ve done them justice, it’s my first time writing characters with differing gender expressions. please do let me know what you think with a reblog or an ask, it really makes my day and would help a lot as i’m trying to get back into writing. thank you and i love you xxx

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Jungkook feels the gripping pressure around her heart ease with every step she takes down the street, fading into phantom pangs once the tall apartment building falls out of view.

She had never quite gotten used to it; the relief in a lack of something, the bliss of less. Her family’s worries seeped into her bones, soured her tongue when she was home. At high school, and especially at university, the stress of other students buffeted her like gales of wind. The brief moments of respite when she’d walk to the bus stop always felt so fleeting, like a gasp of air that didn’t quite fill her lungs enough.

Now, though, she didn’t stop there. She walked further, sucking in deeper breaths.

The train station lay close to the centre of town, but it was never that busy in the late morning, something she’d known fully well before going.

Her phone buzzes in her front pocket, no doubt her mother wishing her safe travels again. She doesn’t answer it, though. Happiness is a sweet tang behind her teeth, and her respite from obligation is a welcome one.

Her train is already pulling into the station when she steps up to the platform, and she wastes no time in scanning her card and finding a seat, tucked in the least occupied corner.

It doesn’t take long for the cramped blocks of Seoul to open up into countryside, and with it comes an openness in Jungkook’s chest that she only remembers feeling once before, a family vacation to an island that felt so blurry in her childhood memory.

Her gift wasn’t so strong then, but still Jungkook finds herself, over a decade later, seeking out nature as a balm for the mood pollution of city life.

When she’s as far south as the train allows, she disembarks. Not a single other soul steps foot off into the station, and it seems nobody is around.

It’s more a bus stop with rails than a train station, really. A roughly squareish pad of thick concrete sits beside the old tracks, a steel park bench and signpost the only things adorning it.

Around the lonely station is an open plain with few trees. On the opposite side, vast untended fields sprout daisies and dandelions, rising gracefully to low hills in the distance. On Jungkook’s side, a single narrow path of sun bleached dirt cuts through the wild grass, leading her to civilisation.

It’s a quiet walk. Not that she minds, of course; on the contrary, the remoteness of this place settles her and allows her to appreciate the finer sounds that normally get drowned out. The grass and scattered trees rustle gently in the wind. A few birds that roost in the shade of the branches chirp to each other, and the melodic noise brings a smile to Jungkook’s face.

When the small path she wanders along finally leads her to a series of small, traditionally-built houses, she’s unsurprised to find them seemingly abandoned. There’s no signs of life outside, and no evidence of human mood anywhere in her body. Even more than the rundown appearance of the outpost, Jungkook trusts her natural gift.

So when a tug in her chest leads her past the small crop of houses, she doesn’t hesitate. There is something for her here, something she may not yet have the words to explain, but for the first time she’s letting herself follow the currents that run through her veins, instead of trying to live around them.

The path lifts.

Like the train station was the base of a funnel, the land rises into hills on this side too, the extra exertion heating her calves with each step. Eventually, the narrow spine of dirt becomes overgrown with grass, and she’s forced to trample over it, ducking around low-hanging branches and stumbling over roots as the trees cluster around her, welcoming her into the cool shade of the hillside.

The crest of the hill has a jagged notch missing like a chipped tooth, providing a shortcut to the other side. The sun peeks through worn walls of ancient stone. It glares in Jungkook’s eyes, but even that brightness is overwhelmed by something stronger that radiates from the very ground itself. Euphoria.

Though her gift was still sometimes a mystery to her, Jungkook had learnt to distinguish most moods. In her cramped suburbia, she’d generally just been exposed to human feelings and the occasional animal, but she could still recognise the specific energy that plants give off.

Stronger with every step she takes, her soles practically vibrate with the flow of plant life singing out in joy - the joy of thriving, of being taken care of. Her own excitement wells up inside her, and her feet pick up their pace until the thud of grass changes into the slap of heavy soles on rock. She slips through the narrow crevasse of stone at the peak of the hill, breath catching at what greets her on the other side.

Like some kind of paradise, lush colours and fragrances mingle in the fresh air. The slope is much gentler here, and instead of uneven undergrowth and stubborn shrubbery, graceful rows of trees fill the open plains in front of her.

An orchard of plum trees with their pink blossoms rests to her left, rich purple fruits beginning to grow from them. Beside, a thicket of orange trees brighten the landscape with the bold citrus, only a few white flowers remaining on the branches. The green apple trees in front of her are laden with fruit, the branches hanging low. To her right, she even spots the brilliant pink spheres of pomegranate, though surely her eyes deceive her.

There’s no clear path through the foliage, though each row kindly provides enough space for a person or two to wander through, so Jungkook takes one such gap at random. There looks to be a fairly old though well-tended cottage beyond the trees, and even as the ecstasy of the healthy orchards envelops her in warmth, she feels the tug in her chest still guiding her forward.

Her body adjusts to the strong flow of positivity. It clears her mind, opens her lungs; like breathing pure mountain air. She has no idea what she’s really doing - trespassing and approaching a stranger’s house like this - but already the thought of having to leave here and find a place to stay makes her stomach curl.

Between the line of trees she can make out the front-facing wall of the cottage. Made up of wide planks of wood, slightly uneven with all the knots and flecks left on the surface, green creeping ivy runs lines across the edges of the plants like earthy seams. That’s all she can see, though, and the first sign of human life doesn’t come from what she sees but rather what she hears.

Reaching her ears even around the happy murmur of greenery, a bright voice hums a meandering but cheery tune, interspersed with chirped phrases that Jungkook can’t quite make out yet.

She approaches slowly, but impatiently peeks around the trunks of trees for a glimpse at the individual. The movement, the colour, the tint of energy that she feels off of them is unlike anything she’s felt before. Pure light, just as brilliant as it is tender.

She steps forward again, foot snapping a fallen twig. Suddenly, that stranger’s energy wobbles, the freezes in the air altogether. Jungkook pauses, knows she’s caught.

“A visitor?” the new voice exclaims incredulously, almost as if talking to themselves. “Are you human, visitor?”

Jungkook swallows. Whoever it was must not have been able to see her. “Mostly,” she replies hesitantly.

As if that’s the right answer, a joyous hoot rings out through the orchard, and light thumps skip closer. A smile stretches across Jungkook’s face entirely unconsciously, her eyes widening when the person finally darts into sight, hand hooked on an orange tree at the very end of the row.

“A friend, then!” the apparent owner of the house declares. They’re dressed for gardening, though dressed is perhaps overly generous. With bare feet and cropped, slightly curly hair, the only thing the person is even wearing is a pair of overalls, dirt on the knees, the leg cuffs rolled up to their calves and the front only just covering their otherwise naked chest. Every inch of skin revealed down to the elfish slope of their nose is a warm, rich bronze, like the sun itself has sunk below the surface and is instead shining outwards. It matches the high energy that Jungkook feels off of them, making her heart race.

Used to modest - even prudish - city fashion, Jungkook swallows at the delicate shoulders and collarbones that contrast enticingly with the swell of their biceps. Averting her eyes, she clears her throat and introduces herself. “And sorry for, uh, intruding,” she offers up with a grimace.

But the stranger waves it off, the movement exposing a flash of something gold on their palm. “Don’t be,” they respond easily, “we haven’t had a guest in years. Name’s Hoseok, by the way.”

“Jungkook,” Jungkook replies without thinking, making the other’s eyes light up even more. “I don’t even… I don’t really know why I’m here.”

Hoseok seems to be expecting this answer. “You should come inside, Jungkook. I built up wards against humans about three years ago when we moved in - it’s not even on any maps now! - so if you’re here, you’re here for a reason. Just because you don’t know it yet doesn’t mean it isn’t important.” They state this all like it’s a matter of fact, and Jungkook herself feels instinctively swayed by the logic. Or, perhaps, swayed by the way Hoseok’s back flexes behind the straps of the overalls as they turn towards the house, leading her there.

Jungkook swallows, trying to distract herself from the beautiful being in front of her. “Are you a, um-” but even her first question isn’t so clear. Unsure what to choose, she goes with the statistically more common option. “-are you a witch like me?”

Hoseok cranes their head back with an easy grin, boyish waves framing their face like a dark halo. “That’s up for debate. Technically, sure, but I don’t really like using the term witch or wizard. Lots of non-binary folk just use warlock, mostly. But yes, I have magic. Come see.”

They hold out their palm, then, and Jungkook jogs forward a few steps to catch up, just breaking out of the shade of the orchard as Hoseok tilts their hand towards her.

Like the rest of Hoseok’s skin, their palm is a warm golden shade, though it positively glows, an ethereal brightness resting below the skin, centred in their palm but reaching as far as their fingertips like five tiny lamps. “Sunhands,” Hoseok explains simply, their hands radiating a delicate warmth. “Had them since I was born. Helps me grow things year-round,” they finish, gesturing loosely in front of them.

Finally breaking her gaze from Hoseok’s beautiful gift, Jungkook looks ahead, unable to stop herself from gasping in a breath. “It’s gorgeous,” she offers up, but the compliment feels lame in comparison to the haven she’s met with.

Hoseok hums proudly nonetheless, and gives Jungkook time to take it in.

The house is every bit the rustic, homely cottage Jungkook had envisaged from the glimpse she got, but her heart is taken by the details. The wooden face she’s met with is clearly the side of it, hosting a small woodshed complete with an axe half-embedded in a tree stump and a tiny freestanding barbecue grill. The house itself is two-storied, although the second floor looks much smaller than the first. A round glass window peeks out from the top. Jungkook thinks she sees something move behind it, but her attention is quickly pulled by the glint of glass in the sun off to her right.

Behind the house, taking up almost the same ground space as the other building itself, a glasshouse blooms with vibrant green. Lush ivy trails up the frame on either side of the rounded top like a set of ribs bracketing the plant life inside. Unlike the neat rows of fruit trees, it looked like a dense forest within those crystal clear walls; the only signs of human intervention were the rows of metal shelves housing smaller plants, and irrigation pipes fitted inside.

“Our little sanctuary,” Hoseok sighs happily, seeing where Jungkook’s gaze has wandered. “My wife’s a botanist by trade, her specialty is in endangered species. Most of these only bloom very rarely, or don’t survive well in regular soils. We’ve spent a long time cultivating them. I use my gift to grow them; she uses her gift to study them.”

Jungkook tries to tamp down the ebb of disappointment that arises. “Your wife?”

“In all ways but legal,” Hoseok confirms with a dreamy grin. “She’ll just love you, I know it already. Come on; let’s get out of the heat.”

There’s a swing bench on the porch outside the front door with a lone novel resting atop it, open page-down as if the reader had to leave it there without a bookmark to keep their spot. Hoseok skirts past it, wiggling their feet briefly on a worn mat before stepping inside.

Feeling so out of her depth, Jungkook doesn’t protest, but instead pauses just inside the door, unsure if she should take off her boots.

Hoseok notices and winces. “We don’t, uh, we don’t have any spare house slippers. If you wanna keep them on, you can.”

Jungkook bends down to toggle the zips down anyway, letting her socked feet enjoy the respite of the cool hardwood floor. “You have a really nice place,” she offers up, though it’s quite the understatement.

To the right is a narrow set of stairs leading up to a mezzanine. There’s only one closed door up there that Jungkook can see, no doubt leading to the second-floor window she’d seen earlier.

The other side is a short hallway lined with what looks like homemade artworks and photographs. Down at the far end, the sun shines into a kitchen, but Jungkook doesn’t get a good look before she’s ferried up the stairs, the third step creaking under her socked foot.

“Knock knock,” Hoseok sings out instead of actually rapping on the closed door, squishing their cheek against the frame. A murmur comes from inside, and they open the door immediately, flocking inside. “A new friend, Joon-ah!”

When Jungkook slips inside shyly, her breath is immediately taken away by the beauty of the person inside. Not just their looks, though she’s never seen hair as glossy and graceful as theirs, and eyes as bright. But being near them feels like standing on the bank of a still, clear lake. Deep with wisdom but still teeming with life and curiosity. With a set of tortoiseshell reading glasses almost tipping off their nose, the person seated at the chair feels like the heart of the house, the heart of the whole region.

“Does this new friend of ours have a name? Preferred pronouns?”

Jungkook can’t do much more than blink. She’s dreamt about this, obsessed over this for years, but it may just be the first time anyone’s ever actually asked her in real life. “Sh- uh- Jungkook, she/her. Th-thank you for asking.”

The beauty in front of her smiles, and Jungkook’s knees threaten to give out at the serene warmth and endearing dimple. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Joon, by the way. I use she/her too. I’m sure Hoseok forgot entirely, but they use they/them. Always best to check, don’t you agree?”

Jungkook’s nodding immediately in response before she even processes it. “Yeah, I- that’s helpful, thank you.” Her mind feels hazy. People in the city never felt this vibrant, mixed with the blissful hum on the soles of her feet from the plantlife outside. She fights to wrangle her mind back into something coherent “Um… Hoseok said you had a gift too?”

Joon’s brows furrow delicately, swiveling her chair back to face them fully. She’d been seated at a busy-looking desk when they entered, writing notes into the margin of a yellowed textbook. Now, Jungkook can appreciate her simple choice of outfit: just a loose t-shirt and some thin fabric sweats, she nevertheless exudes pure grace, even as she quirks a brow towards Hoseok.

The latter coughs lightly, scratching their bare shoulder under one of the overall straps. “I mean… I would call you gifted, love,” they state in an imploring tone.

Joon just lets out a breathy chuckle and turns back to their newcomer. “I’m fully human, actually. My history is academic rather than magical.”

“I am curious, though,” Hoseok chirps, hooking one of their legs on the arm of Joon’s chair and draping themself half onto her, “what’s your gift, Jungkook? You’ve seen mine. Elemental,” Hoseok states, patting their bronzed palms on Joon’s thighs.

If Jungkook pauses to process the public display of queer affection in front of her - as well as the unfurling of mutual fondness emanating off the couple - she might just pass out, so she clears her throat and directs her gaze a few inches above their heads. “Sensory,” she explains. “I feel moods from other beings. I think the trees and stuff outside brought me here, actually.”

Hoseok blinks, eyes wide. One of their overall straps has slipped down, exposing one side of their chest, making Joon tut and tuck it back up again, but the gifted one takes no note. “The trees? You can feel the trees?”

Jungkook shrugs, but her insides glow at the impressed tone to their voice. “Yeah, I, uh, I can’t really do much with it, so I studied house magic at university. I rented out house witch services for some extra money, so that helps.”

Joon’s smile warms even further at the mention of study, her eyes crinkled with some bemusing inside joke. “We might just have to keep you, then,” she quirks, “as amazing as Hoseok is, their skills don’t really extend to the indoors. Mind you, I’m even worse myself.”

Hoseok hums, unflapped by the comment. “I never had a knack for fiddly stuff. I much prefer getting my clothes dirty than cleaning them.” Seeing how worn and discoloured the knees of Hoseok’s overalls are, Jungkook doesn’t doubt that for a second.

But her mind can’t really focus on that. Her own nerves rattle through her body, metallic on the insides of her cheeks. “I, um… I could help? If you wanted?”

The tentative flicker of interest reaches Jungkook from both parties, allowing her to get her hopes up. Nevertheless, she bites her tongue and braces herself for rejection. Did she even have enough money on her card for the train ride home? Stupid, she was-

Joon beams warmly, though with a touch of hesitation. “We’d love that, really we would. We just… We don’t have much human currency, Jungkook.”

Jungkook blinks, chest flipping as she rushes to shake her head. “I don’t need it, honest! Do you- If you had a place for me to crash, or…”

Hoseok sucks in a breath through their teeth and jostles Joon playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, love, we could move some of those old boxes up here and she could have the spare room. Don’t you want to keep her?”

Even faced with Hoseok’s all-but-bare back, Jungkook can sense their pleading eyes with the way that Joon melts in her chair. She pats Hoseok on the shoulder. “Up you get, then, sunshine. It’ll need some dusting too.” The curled brunette heaves themself up, peppering a kiss on Joon’s cheek before slinking out the room.

Jungkook isn’t quite sure if the rising ecstasy in her chest is all her or a shared blend of the people around her, but she knows she’s never felt so bright. “Thank you so much, Joon! What jobs do you need help with?” She turns when she feels the tingling, menthol-esque blossom of hope directed at her back. Near the top of the stairs, Hoseok still remains, their cheek squashed against the banister and eyes glistening. “I could always clear out the room for you?”

Hoseok begins to perk up but Joon just tuts. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart, you just put your feet up. We aren’t going to put you to work straight away.”

“We aren’t?” Hoseok murmurs in unbidden disappointment.

Joon tries to hide her smile, but her lips quirk up fondly at her partner nonetheless. “The cleaning spray and broom are in the hallway cupboard downstairs,” she divulges, receiving a dramatic whine in return. “Suffering builds character, dear.”

A sulky, “yeah, yeah… love you,” is heard from the foot of the stairs.

Joon lets out a breathy chuckle and returns the affection, before standing up from her desk and nodding warmly at Jungkook. “Perfect weather for a lunch picnic, don’t you think? I might go down and see what I can prepare. Why don’t you explore a bit, or go rest? The couch in the living room is divine for taking naps.” With that, she departs, leaving Jungkook alone in the attic to process the absurdity of the past hour.

Feeling less like an intruder than before, Jungkook welcomes the opportunity to fully roam the outside of the property, admiring the lush wildlife and vegetation. The open plains go far beyond the opposite side of the house, leading to a sharper cliff face going up. Jungkook even thinks she can spot the thin vein of a waterfall if she squints, but there’s plenty of beauty at her feet for her to discover first.

While the grove of trees flanks the house on one side, the far side boasts rows and rows of garden beds, the dirt a richer brown than the rest. Fat strawberries weigh down their stalks in some plots, leafy greens spill over the sides in others. The vast range of produce is almost unbelievable, with the side of the house itself displaying a maze of herb pots. Most of them were cooking-based, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the orange spots of brewer’s mint, the sharp, wicked-looking leaves of murkroot and even a small terracotta pot of Jupiter sage. She was well-versed in magical ingredients, but had never seen them fresh outside of her university’s greenhouse. She could only imagine there were many more in the tall glass structure behind Joon and Hoseok’s house. Her fingers itch to test them, to wow her new landlords with a pain-reliever salve or the perfect dream-infused tea. It can wait, she tells herself. If they were growing them, perhaps they used them for something else.

A wet huff interrupts her musing, and she jumps when she feels something moving against her leg. Glancing down, she’s relieved to find the new presence is a tubby, short-haired dog with sleepy eyes, back arched as it stretches first its front legs, then its back, before collapsing onto its back, wriggling against Jungkook’s boot.

She lets out a disbelieving laugh, reaching down to gingerly rub the creature’s belly. The dog all but purrs, legs kicking in the air and tail thumping rhythmically against the sun-bleached wooden veranda.

“Where did you come from, huh?” Jungkook crouches, feeling her calf muscles ache but grinning at the way the dog seeks out her attention shamelessly, not hesitant at all about the presence of a stranger.

“Ah, I see you met Cho,” a warm voice comes from above her. Jungkook cranes her neck up, admiring Joon’s tall form. “She’s a rescue.”

A rescue? Paired with the close view of the gorgeous botanist, Jungkook has to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to push her feelings down. She’d fall in love if she wasn’t careful. “Is that so?” she asks, willing her voice to be steady.

Joon nods, kneeling down to gently run her knuckles behind the dog’s ears, tan fur paling to white on the very tips. “I had to go to a nearby town for supplies, and found this wee girl in an alleyway digging in some bins. My heart broke for her, I just couldn’t leave her there.” She lets out a light laugh. “She was so skinny that Hob-ah called her chopstick. Now, though, she’s built like a barrel, so we just call her Cho.”

Cho wiggles her butt against the veranda, paw hooking on Jungkook’s wrist the moment the petting pauses. Continuing to pat the canine, Jungkook sighs. “That’s really sweet of you. She looks really healthy.”

A spontaneous laugh erupts from Joon’s nose. “She just about eats more than us, she better be. Anyways; I better get back to work. I just came out here to grab some mint for the lemonade.”

Jungkook stays hunched on the floor with Cho - whose nose is burrowed wetly into her furled palm - while Joon approaches the trellis of herb pots, gently plucking some soft green leaves off a plant that’s low enough to make her bend at the waist. Biting her lip harshly, Jungkook averts her gaze from the way her pale sweatpants pull taut around her hips with the movement.

Before long, the botanist returns inside, causing Cho to let out an indignant sneeze and scramble up to join her.

Jungkook exhales until her lungs feel concave. Back in a moment of quiet, she runs her fingertips over the texture of the wooden veranda. The energy from Joon’s unhurried focus feels like the echo of strong hands on Jungkook’s shoulders, but past it is the playful jab of Hoseok’s mock frustration. She grins, picturing the warlock fiddling with an old broom or trying to line up the corners of a fitted sheet. The tang of surprise has long since faded from Jungkook’s mouth, and it’s nice to sit in the warmth of both the sun and their welcome.

She breathes deeply, inhaling the fresh smell of clean air and fresh earth, and smiles.

For such a small house, there really is no shortage of work for Jungkook. Some things are easy fixes, like a permanent polish salve for the heavy mahogany bookcase in the main room or the several anti-dust spells she casts around the house. Others take days at a time to chip away at - she’d forgotten just how long it takes to fully steep a digestion aid tea to cure Hoseok’s raging lactose intolerance - but her two new housemates never nag or criticise. In fact, she’s found a warm foundation of purpose inside her that she hadn’t had since she graduated.

Each evening, when her hands begin to ache or the recipes on her phone look fuzzy, she packs up and joins the two lovebirds for dinner. It’s become a domestic ritual to help them cook, chat for a few hours on the porch as the sun slips below the hills, and then turn in for a restful night of sleep. It’s meant to be a full moon tonight - the fourth one since Jungkook arrived - and their routine is no different, gathered on the edge of the porch facing the open fields behind the house. It’s peaceful, Jungkook thinks. She’s more content now than she’s been in a long time.

There’s something...worrying bubbling within her with every shared moment, though. It’s in the way her pulse leaps when Hoseok beams at her, or the stuttered heartbeat in her chest with Joon’s casual touch. She knows they’re together, can feel the resonance of their affections inside her, yet she can’t help pretending those vibrations are directed at her. Lets herself accept the fond shoulder squeezes, blush at Hoseok’s playful winks.

It’s a dangerous fantasy to indulge in, but…

“Jung-ah, did you change your hair? It’s gorgeous.”

She flushes at the compliment, the genuine tone of Joon’s voice. Joon’s own hair is still a sunkissed brown, so long now that she often ties it off with a ribbon into a lazy ponytail. For a while, Jungkook burned with gender envy, knowing it would take years and years for her hair to grow that long. But a quick text to a friend from uni and an obscure millennial cosmetics spell site helped speed that process up. It wasn’t nearly as long as Joon’s, but the feeling of it tickling her bare shoulders each night made something deep inside of her positively glow. “Thank you,” she murmurs shyly. Hearing Joon notice it and respond well to it ignites that euphoric spark again. “Wanted something different.”

Hoseok reaches a hand up to ruffle their own hair; loose coils springing back around their brow. “Don’t you get hot, ladies? I’m tempted to take a razor to mine and it’s not even past my ears!”

Jungkook can’t manage to suppress a snicker in time. “I’d pay to see that.”

Hoseok grins, but sends a wink Joon’s way. “Hmm... wifey doesn’t seem so convinced, huh? Don’t you think I’d suit the skinhead look?”

Joon tilts her head back to catch the last few rays of orange sun, shadows cast below her jaw. “It wouldn’t be my first choice. But confidence looks better on you than any hairstyle, sunshine.”

Hoseok beams at that, letting the conversation drop as if they never were that interested in shaving anyway. “I think I’m making progress with the vanilla, love.”

That gets a strong reaction from Joon, her dark brows arching gracefully. Jungkook’s interest is peaked, leaning forward so that she’s sitting right on the edge of the porch. “The vanilla?”

Like a proud mother, Joon puffs her chest. “It’s mostly grown in Madagascar these days, and it’s a notoriously fickle plant. The flower only blooms one day a year, and is fertile for only 12 hours. And often, they require human intervention to actually pollinate. Seok-ah here thinks they can get it blooming more often. Have you gotten it, sunshine?”

Hoseok shrugs away the attention humbly, though their eyes glitter with barely-restrained excitement, turning to them both. “For a while I thought my sunhands were my only gift, but I think I must have some type of connection with plants too. I’m really not sure, but I’ve gotten my vanilla crop to bloom three times this month alone! Only two of them produced decent pods, but it’s definitely progress.” Their eyes drop, mouth twisting in thought. “I wonder if I could speed up the fermentation process as well. It usually takes months, but I’ve grown whole trees faster than that. Who knows?”

Joon’s reply is interrupted by a low vibration rattling against the porch. Her smile slips in confusion, and drops entirely when she flips the phone and reads the screen. “It’s Tae.”

Hoseok sobers up too, worry and anxiety emanating off them like a cold tide. “Is something wrong?”

Joon doesn’t reply, brows furrowed as she types something back. Barely a moment later - though it feels much longer as Jungkook awkwardly sits, completely out of the loop - a text buzzes through again, and a surprised laugh comes from the back of Joon’s throat, her lips stretched in a smile. “He’s… he got the job in Osaka.”

Hoseok gasps and claps their hands together once, wiggling in their spot. “That’s incredible!” they begin, but before Joon has even replied to the text, a third is coming through. Hoseok basically jumps in the air, demanding for their wife to read the message aloud.

“Oh my goodness, Tae has a boyfriend, Seok-ah! Says he’s a chef at a Korean restaurant in the city centre.” Joon smiles fondly. “He’s doing well, sunshine.”

Hoseok mulls this over with a slightly put-out look. “Dammit, I didn’t even think of dating a chef.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I made that dipping sauce from scratch yesterday.”

Jungkook feels the banter whip back and forth on either side of her, impenetrable without the important context. “Who’s, um, who’s Tae?” she asks hesitantly, bracing for them to scold her prying.

Joon just smiles placidly, reaching back to lazily re-tye the peach ribbon that’s threatening to slip off. “He’s our ex.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Hoseok chides, “you know he doesn’t like to be called that.”

A sigh. “Tae’s our husband once-removed. Happy?”

“You… had a husband? Both of you, or?”

“What’s mine is hers, Jung-ah,” Hoseok coos happily, “we like to share. Tae was my… boyfriend, back in the day. We actually got hitched before I even met Joon. Young marriage, we were pretty dumb kids.” They shrug, the soothing cotton-soft acceptance filling the air around them, not a spike of negativity to be held. “He actually introduced us shortly after our honeymoon, and I fell for Joon straight away. I admitted my feelings to him, but he just started laughing. The two of them had briefly dated in high school. Small world, huh? We sort of fell into a trio after that.”

“It was unspoken, really,” Joon mumbles, her eyes in the far distance as blue twilight dims the sky. “It felt as natural as flowing water to us.”

“And then-” Hoseok breaks off roughly, and the air tightens. “Tae went through some personal changes. Identity changes. We all tried making it work, we loved being three, being together, but it wasn’t right for him anymore. He ended up winning a scholarship to a very prestigious photography school in Tokyo, and we all knew that was what was best for him.” They fall silent for such a long time that Jungkook would almost think they were finished talking. But then, only just audible, they whisper. “I’m glad he’s doing well.”

Joon leans over to Jungkook, her sweet scent filling the narrow space between them. “Some of the art in the hallway is his if you want to look.”

Before Jungkook can reply - though her head is swimming with joonjoonjoon that she probably has no coherent comments anyway - Hoseok makes a strange strangled noise and gets up. “I’m so sorry,” they announce stiffly, “I think I left a light on in the glasshouse.”

Jungkook watches in confused silence as the warlock, still barefoot even in the cooling night air, marches swiftly across the field to the pitch-black glasshouse. Joon lets out a gentle sigh.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jungkook asks, voice almost cracking on the final word. “I shouldn’t have asked-”

“It’s okay,” Joon interrupts kindly, a warm hand placed on Jungkook’s knee. “It’s just… This is the first time we’ve had a third person in the house since Tae. I think Hoseok missed it.”

Jungkook bites on the inside of her cheek, feeling a chill run through her. “I can’t replace him, though. He sounds like a good guy.”

A considering hum resonates from Joon’s throat. “He is a good guy. But neither of us,” she gestures first at herself and then the shadowed silhouette of a head poking above some plants in the greenhouse, “are looking to replace him. In fact,” she admits with a rueful laugh, voice dropping to a low murmur, “I think the two of us are quite enamoured with you, Jung-ah.”

Joon’s hand on her knee burns through the thin cotton of her sundress, the tips just grazing bare skin. Jungkook swallows, feeling every beat of her heart thud at her ribs. “I like-” her voice rasps like sandpaper, throat dry. She clears it, swallowing thickly again. “I like when you say my name like that.”

She isn’t looking directly at Joon, but she still feels the broad smile. “It sounds pretty, don’t you think? It suits you.” Jungkook’s lips twitch; she ducks her head even as Joon leans closer. “You know, my parents wanted a son,” Joon explains softly. “They called me Namjoon. I always hated it. Felt like such a tomboy, the Nam was too mascule to me. So I dropped it. Still me, just… better. I know plenty of people change their names entirely, but you don’t have to. I think Hoseok would love to chat with you about stuff like that. I know I wouldn’t understand those feelings as much as they would.” Joon furrows her brows, looking embarrassed at her monologue. “I just want you to feel comfortable here.”

“I appreciate it,” Jungko- Jung-ah says immediately, glancing up to see Joon’s face light up. “I- I’m, um, enamoured with- with you too. With you two, too.” Coughing lightly to clear the awkward phrase hanging in the air, she drops her gaze again, but a single finger pauses her, hooked gently under her chin.

Slowly, Joon lifts Jung-ah’s jaw until their eyes meet. They’re somehow closer now, their breaths mingling hotly together between them. Jung-ah’s lips part, but no words come out.

This close, she can see the way a sheen of chapstick glints in the moonlight when Joon smiles. “Sweetheart, can I kiss you?”

Her stomach flips. She nods, not trusting her voice, and barely has a chance to flutter her eyes shut before a pressure lays across her lips. Joon kisses her slowly, so softly, like she might shatter in her hold.

The air has a chill to it now, but every point of contact feels hot like a furnace, and the keening, pleased energy that blooms from Joon keeps her warm. She lets it sink into her, wrap around her just as Joon’s soft palm encases her cheek, fingers playing with her hairline.

Joon’s lips taste like strawberry, but the real sweetness is her delicate movements, chaste but sensual, passionate but patient. Her thumb rubs slowly over Jung-ah’s cheekbone, giving her the strange feeling of swaying in the sea, entirely unmoored. She leans into it, diving deeper, feeling their noses bump.

Joon pulls away too soon, leaving Jung-ah with tingling lips and a dizzy mind. Her chapstick has all but rubbed off, but her lips are plumper and pinker than ever, pupils blown wide.

It takes a moment for the cloud to dissipate, but when it does, Jung-ah gasps weakly. “Oh my god, you’re married, what am I-”

“Ah, yes,” Joon remarks with a wry smile, “you’ll have to go and even the score now or I’m afraid Hoseok will be terribly disappointed.”

Jung-ah pauses, caught off-guard. “They won’t be...angry?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joon coos, “Seok-ah quizzed me for hours last night on the meanings of flowers so that they could grow you some. We’re poly, Jung-ah, you don’t have to stress. Besides,” she quips, inclining her head out towards the field, “it looks like they want to speak with you.”

Glancing in that direction, Jung-ah blinks when she sees the glasshouse, still in darkness, but with a warm yellow glow cast inside, the main door cracked open intentionally.

A fond energy smooths the air between them as Joon stands up off the porch and ruffles Jung-ah’s hair, mumbling a soft goodnight.

After listening to the door squeak open and closed again (she’d have to fix that tomorrow) Jung-ah has nothing left to do but make her way across the grassy plain toward the glasshouse.

The warm glow from inside had dimmed as the moonlight cast her surroundings in silver. Still, Jung-ah could see Hoseok’s silhouette clear as day as they paced back and forth amongst the various shadows of the plant life inside.

It doesn’t take long before her hands are brushing on the metal doorway, glancing inside. “Hoseok? Did you- are you-?”

“Come on in,” the warlock replies easily. There’s a pleased glint in their eyes even as their curls hang heavy over their brow. Overdue for a haircut, though Jung-ah couldn’t deny it made them look even more endearing. “Come here often?” they quip.

With a strange pang, Jung-ah realises this is the first time she’s stepping into the enclosed jungle. Hoseok spent time outside, Joon spent her days glued to her computer or a book upstairs, and Jung-ah wandered around the house with an ever-changing list of ‘Ideas’: to-do jobs that the homeowners were too polite to frame as compulsory. She never really ventured beyond the garden beds for the occasional herb to use. “First time,” she admits with an uneven tone.

Hoseok’s eyes wander, widening. “It is too,” they agree easily, unruffled. “Well, I’m very glad you came. I don’t blame you for sticking indoors. Joon’s far more interesting than me and my leaves.” They reach out and flick at a plant lazily, though Jung-ah doesn’t miss the gentle care in the touch.

“I think you’re fascinating,” she rebuts instead, “I just never wanted to bother you. But it’s… These plants, Hoseok, they’re beautiful.”

A proud beam highlights a smear of dirt on Hoseok’s chin, and Jung-ah resists the urge to reach up and dust it off. Instead, she follows riveted as Hoseok leads her around the deceptively large greenhouse.

“This is where I keep the rarer things. Or, I suppose, the more fickle ones,” they begin, trailing a path along a metal-framed shelf to their left with a single fingertip. “The tahina spectabilis here normally only lives until 50 in Madagascar,” Hoseok explains, and Jung-ah cranes her neck to glance up a trunk, looking much like a simple palm tree. Hoseok’s voice is soft, like they’re in a library, or a place to pay respects. “The tree will flower at fifty years old, and the process is so taxing that it actually dies. This one was passed down through my family’s ancestors, all elementals. It’s over two hundred.”

“Oh, wow,” Jung-ah murmurs without thinking, though she can’t help but view the sturdy trunk and flax-like leaves with a new admiration. “Your ancestors were all interested in nature like you?”

“Absolutely,” Hoseok remarks with a mysterious humour clouding their tone. “I bet yours were, too. Magical folk descend from gatherers and healers right back in the prehistoric age. I bet you would’ve been the healer to my gatherer, Jungkook.”

She swallows, watching the lines of Hoseok’s back move gracefully with every careful step through the lush, almost overgrown glasshouse. “Jung-ah,” she corrects lightly. “It’s, um, it’s Jung-ah now.”

When Hoseok turns, it’s like their fantastical surroundings are cast to grey. All Jung-ah can see is their bright eyes, bold heart-shaped smile and puffed cheeks. She wills her heart to stop thudding in her chest so hard, letting the pleased hum of the plants around them settle her internal rhythms.

“Jung-ah,” Hoseok repeats, and the name sounds even lighter on their tongue. “I like that.”

“I like you,” Jung-ah states and immediately curses her loose lips, wincing harshly at the rich dirt beneath her feet.

A surprised chuckle tinkles the air. “How scandalous, when my wife is just next door!” Before Jung-ah can dissolve into a blabbering, apologetic panic, Hoseok’s hand is reaching into her line of vision, a playful tug on the collar of her shirt. “Good thing she feels the same way as I do,” they continue softly, not lowering their hand.

Jung-ah sucks in a breath, feeling their knuckles bump against her collarbone as her chest lifts. “What way?” she asks carefully, daring herself to look up only for Hoseok to be far closer than she remembered, hand warm and glowing slightly between the two of them.

Behind the earnest smile is a slight hesitation that Jung-ah feels more than sees. Hoseok’s voice is barely a whisper, but no other sound penetrates their green paradise. “I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up,” they confess, “and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. I want you to stay with us. I want to be yours, and you mine. That way.”

“Do you want to…” Jung-ah pauses, tongue wetting her lips unconsciously. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Hoseok’s smile grows, and the prodding hesitation disappears. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you ask that, hon.”

Their lips connect with no time for a reply. Jung-ah doesn’t mind though, letting herself melt into the kiss like there’s nothing else in the world. She feels Hoseok’s hands like twin suns, warmth running over her upper arms, her shoulders, catching gently on her jaw. And further, on a level so deep only she can feel it, those bright rays envelop her, Hoseok’s energy like pure joy. Jung-ah feels them smile into the kiss, lips slanting against hers and teeth bumping as they fail to suppress a grin.

When she finally has to pull away to suck in a breath, chest heaving, Hoseok is still beaming, their eyes dazed and hair rumpled. A strange light illuminates their chin and tip of their nose from below, and Jung-ah blinks in surprise as she sees Hoseok’s hands, completely alight up to their wrists with sunlight.

Catching Jung-ah’s gaze, Hoseok flushes, burying them in their overall pockets even as the light penetrates the heavy jean. “I know it’s bright, it’ll… it’ll settle down soon,” they promise, a sheepish smile puffing their cheeks. “I’m just really happy, Jung-ah.”

Jung-ah can’t help but return the smile. “Me too.”

~

Hoseok exhales dreamily as the sweet smell of strawberries fill the air. Not one for alcohol, they’d gotten Jung-ah to help make them some pink lemonade just the night before. Their wife hovers over the coffee table with the glass carafe, gripping it tight like it might wriggle out of her fingers at any moment.

One arm cradling several packets of snacks and the other holding a plate of slightly misshapen gimbap, Jung-ah makes her way between the two, settling the goods on the coffee table before slipping under Hoseok’s outstretched arm. The two curl up on the couch, Joon’s attempt at pouring the bubbly drink keeping them both amused.

“So nobody is going to help me?” she questions incredulously, grimacing as some of the lemonade doesn’t make it into the mugs she’s attempting to pour it into.

Hoseok’s fingers slip unconsciously under the hem of Jung-ah’s shirt sleeve, rubbing lightly at the skin there. “You’re doing splendid, love,” they assure earnestly. “The table was looking a little dehydrated.”

Joon lifts her jaw with a hard stare, but her lip quirks before she can help it. “I can’t believe this is my celebration party and I’m still the one doing this. I’ll remember this for your birthdays; just you wait.”

“Don’t worry,” Hoseok murmurs into Jung-ah’s ear with a lilting tone, “she always says that but I get breakfast in bed on my birthday every year. I love you, Joonie,” they call out in a singsong voice, reaching out to grab an outstretched mug with the hand not wrapped around Jung-ah’s shoulders.

Taking the other mug and watching the bubbles pop on the surface of the rosy liquid, Jung-ah sends Joon a warm smile. “I’m really proud of you, Joon,” she praises softly. “You worked hard, and the book is amazing.”

Joon raises a brow, taking a swig from the final mug and squeezing up on Jung-ah’s free side, neglecting the second empty couch in exchange for some closeness. “Have you read it?”

Jung-ah pauses, avoiding her gaze. “Seokie and I looked at all the pictures.”

Joon nods somberly, even as her eyes glint in bemusement. “The one thing I didn’t do.”

Hoseok’s hand reaches far enough past Jung-ah to just slightly brush at Joon’s cheek, the human pressing into the contact. “You’re far smarter than us, love. There were lots of very big words that we couldn’t quite understand but we’re proud of you nonetheless.”

Joon lets herself smile then, a warm one that crinkles her eyes and deepens her dimple. “I love you both too.”

Jung-ah flushes, feeling her toes curl at the sentiment, professing her own love for the two on either side of her before dipping her chin to sip at the lemonade. The sparkling water tickles the roof of her mouth, the lemon giving a bright tang, even as the strawberry infusion leaves a sweetness on her tongue long after she’s swallowed. It’s familiar to her, somehow.

As Joon leans onto Jung-ah’s side, beginning to explain to them the elaborate process of getting her third book published, Jung-ah takes another sip, swilling it in her mouth a little longer this time. It’s not until Hoseok’s getting up to pour them all a second glass, making the other two cackle as their hand is even shakier than Joon’s, that Jung-ah finally realises where she remembers that taste from.

It’s not a taste at all, but a feeling, an energy. Most of the senses her gift gave her were from other people, from plants, from wildlife. Very rarely were her own emotions strong enough to come back to her like mic feedback. But she recognised this one. Jung-ah was content.

If you are taking requests. Reader is a chef that does at home cooking classes. Henry's family hired her to do a private cooking class for Henry's birthday. Henry decides that he needs more classes so books her for the month. Then takes her to Italy to source ingredients and wine.

Sweep Me Off My Feet, pt 1

“Dance, sweetheart?”

You looked up from your after-dinner macchiato to see Henry standing before you, hand out in invitation, his radiant smile showing just a hint of shyness. He cut a fine figure in his linen shirt, open at the neck, no tie. 

Rose-gold street-lights lit the Venetian piazza, casting long shadows and an air of romance over the entire area, cloaking it in mystery.

The two of you had spent a dreamy day together, exploring the picturesque Island of Sant Erasmo. The biggest island in the lagoon, Sant Erasmo was famed for its delicious local produce and its wine. After meeting the local farmers and hearing about their lives and crops, you had enjoyed a private vineyard tour and wine tasting. It had been such a leisurely, beautiful day. You had tamped down your annoyance when dinner time came. You’d wanted your time with Henry to last forever.

Helplessly, you suddenly felt this idyll slipping through your hands, sand through an hourglass.

Too much, too fast.

The anxiety of it all had churned in your stomach all through dinner – a delicious seafood risotto, littered with fat, garlicky prawns and butter-soft scallops, with a side of freshly baked, herbed breadsticks.

“Really?” You asked, nervous. You were an excellent chef but an awful dancer. “Why?”

“Because we can. Everyone else is,” he insisted, a grin tugging at his lips. It occurred to you that you had seldom seen him so carefree. “I do love to dance, you know,” he added, cheekily, and the mischief dancing in his blue eyes drew you in, irresistibly.

You shifted, trying to fight the battle between your wish to dance in Henry’s arms, and your intense discomfort at doing anything that involved co-ordination in public.

Finally the hopeful, boyish look on Henry’s handsome face won you over and you took his hand. His fingers closed around yours; warm, reassuring. He pulled you towards him, spun you around for a second. Giddy, you leaned into him as the string quartet outside the café started to play a gentle waltz. You breathed in the now-familiar scent of him, the tang of coffee and a kiss of woodsmoke and cedar.

“This is absurd.” But you rested your free hand on his broad shoulder just the same, and let him lead you in the steps. Heat radiated off his body through the pale, grey linen shirt he wore, and you looked down at your feet. “When was the first time you waltzed?”

“I Capture the Castle rehearsals. They didn’t use the footage in the end.”

You looked up into his eyes. They looked almost blue-black in the half-light as he met your gaze.  “Shame.”

He laughed softly. “It wasn’t. I was twenty-two, all gangly limbs.”

You’d seen the film. His character, Stephen Colley, was so beautiful in the flush of youth that it had hurt to breathe, looking at his rosy cheeks and lean build. “I sometimes – and it’s ridiculous – forget that you’re so…. Famous,” you breathed as he swayed you gently, confidently.

“Good.” His gaze dropped to your mouth, and that gorgeous tumble of chocolate brown hair fell into his face, a little long, a little messy. The way you liked it - that errant curl that teased his forehead was your favourite. “That’s what I wanted.”

The expression on his arrestingly handsome face – so naked suddenly, not a trace of artifice – made you bold suddenly. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. But you were in Venice with a man who made your heart turn over with joy with your chest. You were dancing a waltz in a piazza. Rose-gold light kissed everything, bathing the city and your heart in a kaleidoscope of fuzzy joy, and just for now, you would be brave. You would believe in magic, and you would believe in happy endings.

And you wouldn’t think further than this beautiful, vibrant, kind, man in your arms. He was solid and real and right now, he was yours.

Tears burned your eyes as your heart constricted. Right now, he’s mine. Yes, you would be brave.

And you would pay whatever cost would be levied later. And it would probably be high, but you suddenly couldn’t care.

“Is that all you want?” You tucked his tumbled hair back behind his ear. It felt so soft. That unruly curl sprang forward.

You’d surprised him. You knew because he held still for a long moment before continuing with the waltz. Someone else might not have noticed the slip, but you did. In some ways, you had never stopped noticing everything about him, ever since the day you’d met.

“Oh, sweetheart. You know what I want.” His words were so soft, they were nearly carried away by the notes floating off the nearby violins. But still you caught them. “You.” He swallowed and you watched the movement of his throat, transfixed for a second. “Any way I can get you. Any way you’ll have me.”

His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you a fraction closer. You pressed your face into his neck, loving the rasp of his stubble against your skin, knowing you had reached a tipping point. 

He wanted to make love to you. 

“Tonight?” Your words came out squeakier than you’d hoped. You wondered if Henry would laugh.

He didn’t.

“Tonight,” he confirmed, his voice dropping half an octave.

You stopped dancing, and he mirrored you . You both held still for a long moment. You closed your eyes, knowing that your decision was about to change everything between you two. Maybe forever.

Breathing in, you opened your eyes again. Henry stood before you still, so solid and real. And yours, for now anyway.

And you would take the now, for as long as it lasted. “Henry.”

“Yes, love?” He brushed his lips over yours, gently, a simple kiss without pressure, but a question all the same. He tasted of bitter black coffee, and of rich, sweet chocolate.

“Take me back to the hotel. Right now.” Before you could lose your nerve.

* * * * *

The rosy streetlights of Venice winked at you both as Henry navigated the maze of little streets. People gathered here and there, but the late hour meant it was mostly quiet. You could smell the salty edge of the lagoon, the heady scent of wine, the richness of chocolate and cream. Snippets of indistinct Italian reached you from far away windows.

Henry paused in a quiet alley to get his bearings. Behind him, the moon shone down on you both, bright and silent, hanging like a lightbulb in the endless black fabric of the night sky.

You slipped your arms around him as he pulled his phone from his pocket, bringing up Google maps. “Hmmmm. I swear it was just the next street along….”

The alley was silent and dark. And really quite nice, as alleys went. Closed shop windows were lined with flower boxes, the wooden containers bursting with campanulas, ivy and heliotrope. Their perfume filled with the air, mingled with Henry’s intoxicating cedar scent. 

You felt…  brave. Bold. Aroused.

“What if we didn’t wait until we found the hotel? “ you asked.

Henry’s gaze shot to yours, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. “Sweetheart, we shouldn’t-”

All the pent up desire you’d felt for this man in the months you’d worked together bursting out of you like a dam breaking. You grabbed the lapels of his button-down shirt - Henry, chic and casual in a linen shirt with no tie and the sleeves rolled to his elbows just about killed you - and pressed your mouth to his.

Dimly, you heard the clunky thud as his phone fell to the street floor, unnoticed. He slid his hands around your waist and pressed you to him, and you thrilled to the evidence of his need for you pressing urgently against your stomach. “Oh my God, Henry,” you murmured, aching already, wet under your pretty dress.

“Are you sure, love?” he bit off against your mouth, and you thought he sounded like a man on the edge of control, his words guttural and raspy. “Be. Sure.”

He pulled back and gazed into your eyes, and you saw something just a tiny bit feral in the blue depths. It made the pulsing need inside you kick up several notches.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With a low growl in his throat, Henry scooped you up. You scissored your legs around his waist as he ravaged your mouth, the day’s growth of whiskers on his cheeks scraping at you pleasantly. He moved his attention down to your neck and you arched to give him better access. 

Henry moaned your name throatily as you squeezed a hand between your body to cup him through the denim of his worn jeans.

“Want you, now,” you murmured, impatient, your heart hammering. 

Henry deftly leaned you against the brick wall, keeping you held up with one arm whilst he undid the fly of his jeans with the other. You tugged his shirt tails out of the denim, covering him a little, and then you let yourself play.

He fell into your hand, no underwear barrier, hot and heavy and large, better than you’d imagined, all steel in velvet, and you savoured the stuttered, shuddering breath he let out when you palmed him, stroking until you found a rhythm that made him chant your name like a prayer in that gorgeous accent. 

He boosted you up a little higher, easy with his upper body strength, and you used your free hand to pop open the buttons of your shirt dress so he could lavish attention on your breasts. Your nipples peaked at the kiss of balmy breeze of the Venetian night. His tongue was warm and wet and his touch there sent a direct spiral down between your legs.

“Now,” you whispered urgently. You kept one arm around his neck, teasing the hair curling at his collar anchoring yourself as he reached down and toyed with you, working your thin cotton panties aside to feel how wet you were. You knew what he’d find and your heart raced as he groaned against your neck. 

“Baby girl, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

You mewled a response and a hot rush of pleasure filled you as he circled the tight bud at the apex of your body. And the sudden, sharply delicious orgasm made you gasp out loud. You were beyond caring if you were discovered, the pleasure eclipsing any small doubts you had.

Henry brushed a gentle kiss over your mouth before he slid slowly, painfully slowly, inside you. You tilted your hips up just a little, and he pushed right into the hilt.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, and the expletive in that cut-glass British accent just destroyed you.

Then he started to move, bottoming out each time he thrust back in, and all coherent thought flew out of your head. His pelvis brushed your clit with each thrust and you bit your lip, trying desperately to be quiet, and only partially succeeding.

It was over quickly, both of you too aroused to last long. Your muscles convulsed around Henry’s cock, and you bit down on the curve where his neck met his shoulder to keep from crying out. Moments later, Henry followed you over the cliff, groaning into your hair, his chest heaving with the effort of being quiet.

You wound down slowly together, floating back to Earth. Henry gently set you back on the ground, frowning.

“I meant to have you in a bed, the first time.”

You grinned, feeling like a goddess, leaning up to kiss him, your body still trembling from the tiny aftershocks of really good sex. “No, but now we can enjoy round two at our leisure in the hotel.”

His delighted laugh echoed into the balmy Venetian night, and you held hands and walked the rest of the way back together.

******

Two months earlier

Your boss called your name and you looked up from the day’s menu to be prepared. Cooking was your calling, no doubt about it, but even working as a sous chef in a five-star hotel could be a drag when the clientele could be so exacting.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

Your boss beckoned you into his office and you crossed the kitchen briskly in your chef’s whites.

The best-looking man you’d ever seen waited in the tiny manager’s office, all dark hair and smouldering blue eyes, broad shoulders and lean hips.

“Mr Cavill, this is the best sous chef I’ve ever had,” your manager began, adding your name.

The stranger held out a hand, a smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t wait to work with you.”

To be continued....

Tagging some folk who may like this: @chamomilebottom (thanks for the gifs!) @brexrif @mary-ann84 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @hnryycvll @henrythickcavill @henry-cavill-obsessed @ohjule @iloveyouyen @summersong69 @ly--canthrope @the-soot-sprite @littlefreya @dancingwendigo @fishcustardandclintbarton @gardensofwhimsy @wondersofdreaming @dr-kayleigh-dh @mrsaugustwalker @andahugaroundtheneck @pinkzsugar @geralt-of-baevia @radaofrivia @princess-of-riviaa 

MUSHROOM KINGDOM LIFE FULL BETA!

This is all the entries in the project but as the name imply its still in beta, most entries weren't refined and we still haven't touched in the scientist quotes idea so yeah it still will take a while but until then this will have to do

Also tumblr has a limit of how much text you can have wich is a realy big number but it was only big enough to fit the first 2 chapters and most of the suit one but if its not 100% its 0% so yeah the 80% of the suit didn't make the cut for the first part so tomorrow part 2 and 3 if it dosent fit will ba

MUSHROOM KINGDOM LIFE

VOL.1 ITEMS AND OBJECTS

in this instructional book/guide you'll learn about history,effects and fun information about the various objects found all round the mushroom planet and beyond, of course we aren't including everything as there is just too many to one person to read, in this book we are focusing in magical objects and high tech machines and a few exceptions like the hammer and some shells, now please enjoy the first edition of mushroom kingdom life  

MUSHROOMS 

1-UP MUSHROOM

1-Up Mushrooms are known for their healing properties, and so many hospitals use them for medicinal purposes. Some hospitals even have greenhouse rooms designed specifically to best grow the mushrooms so a supply is always on hand.These mushrooms can also be turned into soup making for easier storage and quick healing, and if the body hasn’t been completely destroyed, the mushroom’s energy will be able to revive the corpse, no matter what state it is in. The rumor that collecting 100 coins magically gives one a 1-Up has been confirmed to be false.

SUPER MUSHROOM 

Super Mushrooms, commonly referred to as simple Mushrooms, are the staple crop of the Mushroom Kingdom and, by virtue of that, one of the most common power ups in existence. Due to it's easy to cultivate nature, it can be widely grown throughout all biomes. Many well-known dishes involve a Super Mushroom in the recipe, and for good reason, as not only do they taste excellent, but the mushrooms are very healthy and even have mild healing properties. There are also varieties with more potent recovery properties--Blue “Super” Shrooms and Green “Ultra” Shrooms. Shroom Shakes, canned soups made especially to be drunk on the go, offer a quick way to achieve the healing benefits of these varieties. Super Mushrooms also have an interesting effect similar to steroids, in a small enough concentration that most wouldn’t ever notice it. In a pinch, the effect can increase a person’s strength and even cause temporary growth. This "strength and growth" effect can also be extracted for use in agriculture as fertilizer, increasing the growth speed of plants up to 300%. 

MEGA MUSHROOM 

Mega Mushrooms were first discovered in Giant Land, most abundantly in the province of TIny Huge Island. It is commonly theorized, though not yet confirmed, that the Mega Mushroom is an evolved form of the Super Mushroom created by the same phenomena affecting the rest of Giant Land’s natural landscape and inhabitants. These mushrooms are generally used as fertilizer, not only providing a moderate increase in growth speed, but also nearly doubles the size of the crops. The caveat to this is that in return for their large power, they require large amounts of care and nutrients, and can take as long as 5 years to reach maturity unaided. 

BEE MUSHROOM 

The bee mushroom was first discovered by Well known mushroom kingdom hero "super mario" where during his first space adventure,it was discovered in honey hive galaxy, it was used by mario to befriend the bee queen from the bee kingdom, the bee mushroom has a sweet honey taste and is used in culinary items mostly candy, sweets and drinks, it also makes people holding a bee mushroom 50% more charismatic towards bees making it perfect for diplomacy missions with the bee kingdom 

BIG MUSHROOM 

Many people confuse the mega mushroom with the big mushroom, while both have high concentrations of bignium the mega mushroom has twice the amount of bignium that the big mushroom has, if all the bignium was extracted from a mega mushroom and injected at once it would increase the size of the user by 500% the og, the big mushroom increases by 250%, the big mushroom is used as fertilizer and as a food source( generally with all the bignium extracted to turn into fertilizer) and uses less resources to cultivate than a mega mushroom 

BOO MUSHROOM 

The boo mushroom is found in haunted places, it used as "food" for boos and ghosts, but when used by a living being it will temporarily turn them into a boo, it last for atleast 15 minutes and the longest one taking a whole week to run out, after the effect is done they will turn back to normal, it is generally used to negotiate with ghosts and boos,it was once used to infiltrate king boo's castle, it was reported by Mario that the boo mushroom was found in other planets as well

BLORP MUSHROOM 

Blorp mushroom is an genetically modified mushroom made by fawful in 2009 and is the cause of the blorp virus pandemic that lasted from 2009 to 2010,this mushroom is purple and has high amounts of an pownon gas like substance wich makes users round making them useless, this disease unlike most power ups with similar effects this mutation was permanent luckily an antidote was made, it took some time for scientists to discover the source and in its peak 3% of mushroom people were affected

CURSED MUSHROOM 

The cursed mushroom is a variation of the well known poison mushroom, unlike the poisom mushroom this one takes a week to affect the user and it makes the user deadly sick, it is usually found in haunted places but it can be grown in any soil,it can be used to make anti poison and some recipes use the stem of the cursed mushroom for extra flavour but its realy hard to get the poison part off the stem making it expansive,it is usually contained in a orb because it can poison people by being touched

GOLD MUSHROOM

The golden mushroom is a modified super mushroom covered in gold and it was a high standard ingredient used in the fanciest and most expensive of dishes, it used to be sold at 600 coins but do to the fairly recent midas finger crash it is now sold for 100 gold because of the over abundance of gold in the mushroom kingdom,it can be made into a golden shake wich usually us sold for 160 coins and it is delicious 

INVINCIBILITY MUSHROOM 

The invincibility mushroom is a super mushroom injected with super star and rainbow extract, it is fairly common sinse it's a plant meaning cultivating these items,it is used in dishes like the invincibility steak and the invincible salad,it requires moondust soil to cultivate it correctly but it can be grown in normal soil

LIFE MUSHROOM 

Life mushroom is one of many items discovered by mario mario the || also known as just mario during his space expedition,the life mushroom is very similar to its earthling counterpart the super mushroom, it is very healthy and when consumed makes the user more resilient and some say it increases your lifespan but hasn't been proven yet, it is used in many dishes and has an out of this world taste, it can be grown in most soils but its preferred soil is moon soil,it is generally sold for 30 coins or 90 star bits,it unlike its earthling counterpart doesn't have any traces of bignium meaning it's not that great for increasing growth speed of plants but it does makes plant affected with life mushroom fertilizer 200% healthier than normal

METAL MUSHROOM 

the metal mushroom is similar to the metal suit or metal cap like some people call it,the metal mushroom is a plant version of said suit,it is way cheaper to make than the metal cap do to the fact it can be cultivated,it requires rocky soil (generally mountains and underground) in order to cultivate it, if consumed the user will become metal solid for 2 minutes giving them the ability to break most objects and become heavy to swim in the bottom of lakes, it is generally melted in order to get metals need for the construction of many things

MINI MUSHROOM 

The mini mushroom is the smallest of all mushrooms, it is known for containing concentrated amounts of minium wich causes (when in its purest form) the user to shrink down to 20% of their original size or 80% smaller than normal, when in this mini state the user gets the ability to walk on water and walk fast and other things from being small, with all minium removed it is used in various culinary dishes and gives a sweet flavor and many use it on top of cakes as edible decorations 

MYSTERY MUSHROOM 

The mystery mushroom is an interesting super mushroom variety wich has a interrogation mark in the front, it has an interesting effect on the user where when consumed it will give the user the power to morth/transform into any other living being as long it exists and has been observed by the user, it however does not provide any abilities of the copied creature making not that perfect for the intended infiltration purposes, it is currently being used to try and make the super hammer suit and boomerang flower

P-ACORN (POWER ACORN)

Some may be confused why the acorns are in the mushroom section? Well it looks like a mushroom and it has a soft stem like a mushroom, it's just an acorn because it grows on trees Back to the explanation, the p-acorn is a rare sub species of the super acorn wich while retaining the taste and culinary purposes it also has an special ability, while the normal super acorn gives the user abilities similar to a flying squirrel, this one also gives the flying ability similar to a tanuki leaf, of course this only last for 30 minutes but once the affect is done it will get a permanent enhancement to the ability of using a flying squirrel suit 

PROPELLER MUSHROOM 

The propeller mushroom is a mushroom with a propeller on top, it has a super mushroom flavor but the propeller tastes like a tanuki leaf, when in its purest form it makes an propeller helmet like shell to grow on the user's head wich works giving the user the ability to fly upwards,it can only be cultivated in floating islands in high altitudes, instead of growing on top of the place where it was planted the proppeller grows under the floating islands where they're planted making harvest harder 

POISON MUSHROOM

The poison mushroom is a species of mushroom known for being super deadly, it generally is naturally found in toxic forests,it makes anyone who eats it gets instantly sick and 20% of people who injest the poison dies, it can be non deadly as many professional cooks use poison mushroom for recipes and people say its delicious but we dont recommend to eat it without professional skills

ROCK MUSHROOM 

The rock mushroom is one of many items discovered in the second intergalactic mission by mushroom kingdom hero mario,it has a rock like stooltop and it does taste like stone, but the stem tastes great and is used in many recipes like miners soup and rolling Crocs, in its purest form it gives the user an rocky exoskeleton making them super resliant and strong, it like the metal mushroom requires rocky soil and is generally grown on caves 

REVERSE MUSHROOM 

The reverse mushroom is…..interesting, in its purest form gives the user the "ability" to walk backwards perfectly, but only backwards, its grown in islands and it grows underground like carrots, it was found in opposite islands where everything is backwards upside down and reverse, it tastes okey 

SUBCON MUSHROOM (DREAM SHROOM)

An interesting phenomenon is the "materialized dream" phenomenon where small things from dreams appear on the real world, the subcon mushroom is a super mushroom like thing known for being the most common materialized mushroom, unlike the super mushroom it doesn't have seeds meaning real life cultivation impossible, it has a dreamy flavour and is very expensive going for 200 up to 750 coins,

SPRING MUSHROOM 

The spring mushroom is another mushroom found in the second mushroom kingdom intergalactic exploration, in its purest form it turns whoever consumes it have their body turned into a spring like shape resulting in high jumps and very bouncy behavior, according to mario mario || it is very hard and anoying to control, it requires minerals hard to find in our planet making it "rare" but it is possible to find it in most metal rich planets as the mineral that it needs seems to be a metal/ore

SUPER MEGA MUSHROOM 

The super mega mushroom is a modified version of the mega mushroom wich doubles the original effects and taste,as a fertilizer it nows increases the size of crops by 600% and increases growth speed by 400%, on living beings increases size by 10 times the original, when the bignium is removed for non power consumption the taste is recorded to be better in every way than the mega mushroom, unfortunately it takes away more to cultivate it, it can take 10 years with no help and even with the best fertilizer it takes around 2 years to get ready, it needs loads of supplies just for 1 unit 

SUPER MINI MUSHROOM 

The super mini mushroom is the polar opposite to the super mega mushroom, the mini mushroom not only shrinks the size of the user by 85% it also gives the user the ability to grab things over 100 times heavier than their normal size, it last for around 20 minutes,one seed can grow 10 mini mushrooms, not super mini just mini,it requires little to no care to become ready for harvest 

SUPER ACORN

The super acorn is an acorn like mushroom, when in its purest form bestows the user flying squirrel abilities, it tastes like acorns and nuts, many products like cereal and cereal bars use the super acorn for flavor and health value and the stem is used in shakes, it's the only mushroom that grows in trees, super acorn is very nutritious 

VACUUM MUSHROOM

The vacuum mushroom is an genetically modified mushroom invented by fawful in 2009 , there was only one made wich was gifted by fawful to bowser wich resulted in not much info about this highly magical item, it gives the user in its purest form the ability to succ things like a vacuum cleaner like famous fictional character known as kirby, it also has traces of mini mushroom as everything succed will shrink several magnitudes, so small in fact they could fight viruses face to face 

WEIRD MUSHROOM 

The weird mushroom is a variation of the super mushroom, it is unlike any other mushroom as it has a slim and tall stem and a short stooltop, I'm its purest form makes the user realy skinny and tall, giving them the ability to jump super high, their voice also gets realy weird, the affect lasts a whole day, when without the weirdom the stem is generally fried and the stooltop is roasted and many say it's great,it generally appears as a result of super mushroom being planted in soil without the minerals necessary 

ZOMBIE MUSHROOM 

Zombie mushroom is a interesting tipe of mushroom as it is less of an object and more of an enemy,it is a result of a boo/ghost possessing a super mushroom and then unpossesing resulting in the mushroom getting haunted and it becomes "alive", it will try to kill any living being in its vicinity, it only is awake when its night time or is in a haunted area, it is not recommended to eat a zombie mushroom, specially if you're an toad, 

Average special effect time:30 minutes

FLOWERS

FIRE FLOWER

Fire Flowers are among the most well-known of all power ups, and for good reason with their reliability in many fields and simplicity of use. Some alternative fuel sources even use the heat from these plants instead of the typical use of Celestial Energy (see sections on Power Stars and Power Moons for more information on this phenomenon) It can be turned into something similar to hot sauce for household use, and the flowers have many combat applications such as lighting fuses for demolition teams and infantry weaponry in place of flamethrowers or firearms. A form of pepper spray can also be created from the seeds. Fire Flowers are also used in cold biomes for not only lighting fires, but setting off symptoms of Hypothermia and Frostbite, and most if not all villages in the snowy realms grow a steady supply to support their daily life. In a pinch, the flowers also work as excellent lanterns.

ICE FLOWER

Ice Flowers are generally considered the polar opposite of Fire Flowers. They are generally used in culinary fields, helping run such machines as ice cream makers, freezers, and ice machines. A freezing spray made out of Ice Flower extract can be used to freeze small things quickly, and more potent versions of this spray are used often in skating rinks and ski resorts. The seeds and petals can be turned into a soup generally used in hot biomes like deserts or volcanic regions to cool off. Many desert villages have a stock of these flowers for that very reason, as well as to set off heatstroke. Unfortunately, unlike Fire Flowers (which provide the natural heat they need to grow and flourish no matter the location), it is often difficult to grow Ice Flowers in warmer environments due to the lack of water supply, which they usually can gain by filtering it from snow through their roots (though beaches have been found to support the cultivation of Ice Flowers quite effectively, most likely due to the wetness of the sand).

“GLACIAL” FLOWER (ICE FLOWER--ALIEN)

During the first intergalactic adventure of well-known Mushroom Kingdom hero “Super” Mario, he reported the discovery of a variety of Ice Flower very different from the well-known native species. This “alien” Ice Flower has a much lower recorded natural temperature and a similarly more potent effect than its more common brethren. Nicknamed a “Glacial” Flower by many researchers, it is so powerful that it doesn’t simply bestow power over ice to those who wield it--but instead, it transforms them into pure, living ice, cold enough to freeze the very ground where they walk. This ice is so cold it can not only freeze water at a mere touch, but even lava up to nigh the most extreme temperatures. The Glacial Flower is much harder to cultivate than the standard variety of Ice Flower, as while it is able to grow in much higher temperatures than the latter due to the extent of its natural radiation of cold, it requires minerals that have up to now only been observed in the depths of space. The few that are able to be grown in carefully monitored and supported artificial environments mainly find use in preventing damage from the eruption of major active volcanoes.

CLOUD FLOWERS

Originally discovered in Fluffy Bluff Galaxy, Cloud Flowers have become a staple in cloud-based locales. Before the discovery of this flower, cloud cities were mainly constructed with the aid of concentrated Pownon gas. However, in this capacity the gas was far too difficult to steadily maintain, leading to great damage as parts of the architecture and even foundation would often collapse. Since the discovery of the Cloud Flower, however, it was quickly found easy to cultivate, requiring merely, well...clouds. The clouds generated through use of these flowers are surprisingly strong, and this soon lead to much more stable cloud-based infrastructure being possible.Cloud Flowers are also often used in certain meals, especially those on the sweeter side, helping to yield a “heavenly” flavor.

COPY FLOWERS

The copy flower is……..interesting it was "discovered" by local hero mario and his brother luigi while exploring the temporal shenanigans the time machine created by e-gadd made, when the mario bros (present) where exploring the past where they stopped the alien invasion that happened many years ago, at the time the copy flower was already known but it was in risk of extinction wich it did go extinct but during the adventure a sample of the flower was brought back and the species was brought back, but let's get back to effects, the copy flower acts similar to the double cherry but this one is way WAY WAY more powerful making up to 92 copies wich is a lot compared to the 1 of the double cherry, it is used as fertilizer increasing crops by 50 to 92 times the normal crop, of course it's still fairly rare and uses resources wich as of yet is rare to come by 

GOLD FLOWER

The gold flower is a now eligal plant originated in the mushroom kingdom, you might have heard that gold has become way less expensive recently, you see this flower gives the user to turn everything they touch into gold and lasts 1 minute, and while this flower was ilegalized and contained in less than a month after discovery the damage was already done and now there are loads of gold in the kingdom, wich while means average workers will be able to taste gold like items it's not that good for the economy, all gold flower specimens and seeds are in a high defense storage in one of the many metropolis in the mushroom kingdom 

MIX FLOWER

The mix flower is a variant of the fire flower wich allows the user to charge the fireballs to make it more powerful but if more people with mix flowers come along they can charge together to make it even more powerful doe to that fact many military organizations have squads of mix flower user to work as a mortar tank of sorts, these groups are generally 4 to 15 people, it can be used in generators but arent as effective than the usual star but it is used in polar lands for heating an entire city

POWER FLOWER (POWNON FLOWER)

The Power Flower is a unique flower, with no discernible source known or recorded. Some say they are found in the sky, other say they are artificially made, some even point to space as the answer.  Whatever the source may be, Power Flowers are one of the only known natural sources of Pownon, releasing it as other plants do Oxygen. It is unknown how this happens. These high levels of Pownon can lead to a multitude of effects, and study of these effects and why this is possible is still underway.

SLOW FLOWER

The slow flower is a temporal plant caused by time machines wich when in the purest form makes a 50 ft radio have time slowed down by a lot, 10 minutes outside the radios is equal to 1 minute in the affected area, it isn't recommended to consume 10 at once,it is very rare as not many time machines exists and use a lot of energy but flipside has lots of slow flowers but its not known where they came from

SPEED FLOWER 

Speed flower is a highly energetic flower wich when consumed mildly increase the user's speed, it is discovered in thr in between plane, it is used in sports for the interesting events made involving the speed, the seeds look like clock hands, many energy drinks use the flower for taste and energy, it is also used in infantry as the extra speed makes the troops be able to reach the enemy lines way faster

SUPER BALL FLOWER

The superball flower is an species of flower native to sarasaland,it in its purest form gives the user the ability to create very boucy metal balls, it is used to make metal for machines and many superball refinery are scattered throughout sarasaland wich is the number 1 in metal exportation to other kingdoms, users say that it tastes like coins, it like other metal/rock based species its usually grown underground

The thoughts I have about Captain James Flint having supernatural powers (especially ocean based, though blood is good too) is crazy. And it is not explored enough I feel. Imagine James post canon, loving Thomas, but still feeling so drawn to the sea. Discovering he has these powers, hating them, learning about them, Thomas supporting his sea god husband. Then maybe a meet up with Silver who gets his mind blown about these powers being real?! Thoughts, Fic Recs?

OH MAN. OH MAN OKAY WELL OKAY LISTEN. LISTEN. 

My favorite Sea-God-Flint fic is Blood and Foam by KhazadSpoon. It’s an AU but like.....FUCKING CHRIST i became a monsterfucker for this fic alone okay.

There was another fic I read where Thomas and Miranda are ghosts that haunt the short and James eventually joins them - but apparently I did not bookmark it.

I love me a good -is he isn’t he- dynamic with Flint and his controlling the sea powers. I love the way Black Sails sort of hints at this?? Like Flint doesn’t outright control the weather but it almost bends to his will.

I always like to imagine other times Flint might have controlled or influenced the weather. When they’re chasing Bryson’s ship and they need the extra speed, maybe it wasn’t just the sails, but Flint’s will that made the wind pick up and the waves carry them just that bit faster.

Maybe the uncanniness of how the Walrus never seems to be slower than her pray that they all attribute to Flint’s skills as a captain but maybe go deeper than that. How sometimes a storm will come out of nowhere and the captain is nowhere to be found. They don’t know that Flint saw, or heard, or thought, of something that for a second reminded him so strongly of Thomas he almost swore he could hear him. They’re off the coast of Florida, heading around the coast towards Charles Town, but for a minute it almost seemed like-

I think, in a post canon world where he’s laid Captain Flint mostly to rest, it would come out in both salt and freshwater. The old brine of Flint still engrained in him but also the freshwater pouring over an aching wound, Thomas’ love and a return of his ability to feel safe.

And I think it would be more little things.

Thomas notices that their crops are never wanting for water but that the rains always come on nights James has a nightmare. 

When James is concentrating while they’re fishing, the current of the river seems to slow down and the fish with it. The river never overflows its banks near their home. 

Sometimes they sail to the maroon island with supplies or to ferry escaped slaves to freedom, and the wind always blows quicker on their way back. It’s warm, and Thomas can’t smell the salt in it. Instead there’s an earthen feel, like he’s got his nose in a ball of moss.

My personal headcanon is that James has no particular feelings towards the sea, now that Captain Flint has returned to it. He doesn’t hate it, or love it, but, as my boy Demetri in Anastasia says “It was a place I once lived. end of story.”

But Thomas notices, he notices these little things in how James has become so entangled in the sea that it has become a part of him. He mentions it to James and at first James is upset - thinking it’s a part of Flint resurfacing and he remembers Silver’s speech about his mindset causing a storm. Initially, he worries what that means for building a safe life here.

It doesn’t rain for two weeks. 

But then, one day as James is walking past a flower garden he’d started the previous year because Thomas had remarked on the lack of color around their house, he sees the drooping stalks. The sad, withered leaves. And he thinks of every time Thomas has been there through the long, tiring, two steps forward one step back of healing and letting go of something he never wanted to hold in the first place. And it starts to sprinkle. Just a small drizzle but it is cool, and fresh, and light. 

Also uh. I’m not your blog for Silver content, sorry! <3

Blood Island, Chapter 7

With apologies to those in it for the dinosaurs.

...

The rain continued on.

Two times Nuriel had fallen asleep for an unknown length of time only to reawaken to the sound of its patter. Two times she had drank from the bottle and eaten the fruit, leaving her with enough for only one meal left. Once she had crawled over to the far side of the ship to find a space to relieve herself. She was going to have to find a clean way to go about that once the rain stopped, but for now she had few options.

Now she was sitting slumped in her dark corner, hand closed around the bottle’s neck, sullenly looking out at a small crack in the ship’s hull across from her. Beyond she only saw the flicker of raindrops. Not even the light of the moon pierced through.

Sighing, she leaned her head back and stared up at the dark. She was miserable, she felt a little queasy from eating nothing but fruit and drinking wine, she was slightly disappointed in herself for accepting the red-eyed demon’s offerings, she was bored out of her mind, and she was fairly certain that her horribly bloody death had only been postponed, which made being cooped up in the boat’s hull all the more aggravating.

Strangely though, the one thing she wasn’t was afraid. Oh, sure, she had been absolutely terrified when fleeing from the razor-birds and the massive crocomonster. But now, having been yanked back from the precipice of death itself, she felt strangely neutral about her continued survival. If anything, she was mildly annoyed.

She took another pull of the wine. It was okay, but not the best drink she had ever had. To tell the truth, she had never much cared for alcohol. It dulled the wits, and the last thing Nuriel needed to be was off her guard, and the taste had never meant anything to her.

Still, there had been one drink that she fondly remembered…

…Nuriel yawned wide…

…one that she never expected to enjoy again, but sometimes found herself longing for…

…Arroyos is an odd town. Nestled in a bay just off the coast of the island of Cuba, it is not built upon dry land, but instead raised up above the water on wooden slats and connected by bamboo bridges and wooden walkways, expanding outward until it was twice the size of the meager slice of dry land it had grown from.

It even boasted a decent dock, letting the Periwinkle finally find mooring after weeks at sea. The crew was all worn down and exhausted, and are looking for to some measure of shore-leave, to just having something beneath their feet than the ship’s swaying timbers.

Frankly, Nuriel half-considered just staying with the ship. More people means more possibilities of being discovered, and the town isn’t the sort she can just walk into and disappear.

But like the rest of the crew, she is tired and restless. Besides, the men all were insisting that she come ashore, eager to show Ned the silent cabin boy a good time.

Unfortunately, it isn’t the fun times she had been promised, at least not at first. First comes the mooring of the ship, the tying and checking of ropes. Then comes the back-breaking part, the unloading of the cargo that they had been commissioned to deliver to this particular town, and of course, though she is easily the smallest and weakest member of the crew, Nuriel is expected to shoulder her fair share of the load. And even after all that, she is given little time to rest, as next comes the loading of supplies, from the new stores of food and water to cloth, wood, and metal for repairs to other bits and pieces that had been depleted by the voyage.

But then, with the ship watered and victualed and the repairs well underway, it is finally time. The sun is dipping down below the horizon, night is coming, and normally that would mean lights’ out, time to sleep, but tonight it means something different.

Tonight it is time to play.

Any crewmember not needed aboard loads into a pair of rowboats and heads out to the larger island, following the cliffs until they come across a wide beach. And once there, scrap wood is gathered and set alight into a massive bonfire. Bottles are passed around, freshly caught fish and rabbits are scaled and skinned and set alight, and the soon everyone is gathered around the fire, drinking, eating, singing, talking, and laughing. Several locals join the fun, some of them dockhands known to the crew, others are ladies of the town interested in making sure that the crew’s time spent with them is memorable.

Everything about that night remains seared into Nuriel’s brain. The warmth of the bonfire as it crackles beneath the stars. The sound of the black waves mingling with the cries of the gulls. The laughter of her crewmates and the songs that they sang, the first time any of them experienced joy in weeks. The humming of the ship musician’s accordion as he leads the crew through their favorite shanties. And though Nuriel can’t join in, she still grins and claps along, enjoying a rare moment of comradery in her life of lies and fearful solitude.

But most of all, she remembers her.

Nuriel’s eyes snapped open. The dream had been so vivid, so realistic that even after awakening, she could still the burning wood. She took a deep breath and glanced about.

It was still dark, and outside, the rain had not subsided. Whether that meant it was night or that the clouds were so thick that they choked out the sun, she had no way of telling.

Nuriel ate the rest of the fruit and drank the last of the wine. Wiping her mouth, she settled back, folded her hands over her belly, and closed her eyes.

They first see each other on the docks.

Though Nuriel is curious to see the town, there is little time to stand and gawk. Nuriel has a job to do, and to slack would be to invite unwanted attention. She kneels down, grabs onto the sides of a box packed with glass jars filled with seasonings and spices, and lifts it up.

The box isn’t that heavy, but its contents are fragile, so Nuriel has to take it slow as she makes her way out of the cargo hold, up onto the deck, down the rampway, and down the dock, until she finally comes to where the cargo is being stacked.

Placing the box down, Nuriel straightens up, wincing at the complaining of her knees. This is the fourth such box she carried out, and it is starting to get to her.

As she wipes her palms on her trousers, she glances down the dock.

And then she sees her.

There, standing at the other end of the dock, is a local girl, one that seemed to be about Nuriel’s age. But while Nuriel took great pains to hide any trace of felinity, this girl seems to rejoice in hers, from the way her white blouse hangs loosely around her slender shoulders to the flowers in her shimmering black hair. Though she isn’t doing anything particularly provocative, nothing more than stand with a basket tucked under one arm as she speaks to an older woman, there is a sensuality in her every movement that Nuriel cannot ignore, from the way she curves her hip outward to support the basket to how her face lights up as she laughs.

Nuriel feels her breath leave her. She used to scoff at sailors who would describe the madness that would take a man who had been at sea too long without the touch of a woman. After all, sure, women were pretty, and kissing them was probably fun, but have some self-control, man!

But now that she too had been away from civilization on a small boat filled with ugly men with no pretty girls to look at, Nuriel finally understands, and she cannot help but stare.

The girl finishes her conversation and turns away from the woman. In doing so, she catches sight of Nuriel staring at her. Nuriel feels her heart leap and tells herself to look away, but for some reason cannot tear her eyes away.

The girl’s perfect brow furrows, and her bright eyes roll with what was no doubt annoyance with another slobbering sailor unable to keep from ogling pretty girls. She starts to turn away, but then pauses.

And the next thing Nuriel knows, the girl is staring right back at her, her lovely mouth curving up into a smile of delight.

Nuriel’s cheeks flush, and she finally turns away to hurry back to the ship.

As she rounds the corner to head down into the cargo hold, she hears someone chuckle. “I saw that, lad,” says a gruff voice.

It’s Mr. Gagne, the ship’s quartermaster. An older, roguish man with close-cropped black hair and a cleft in his jaw, he always struck Nuriel as someone not to suffer fools, so Nuriel always did what she could to avoid upsetting him. During the whole of the voyage, he probably spoke less than a dozen words to her that weren’t short, gruff instructions.

So why was he speaking to her now?

In answer to his comment, Nuriel merely blinks up at him in confusion.

Mr. Gagne smirks knowingly. “I saw you staring at that pretty girl. Been a while, ain’t it, lad?”

Damn it, was she really that obvious?

Blushing with embarrassment, Nuriel turns to leave, for once thankful for her inability to speak, as it provides an excellent excuse not to answer.

But rather than let her go, Mr. Gagne clamps a hand down on her shoulder, stopping her.

“I also saw the way she was looking at you,” he says. He gently pushes his fist into her shoulder. “Maybe you should do something about that.”

Nuriel winces, and, without looking up to meet his eyes, miserably shakes her head.

Mr. Gagne sighs. “I know not speaking is kind of a problem. But just because you’re dumb don’t make you useless. You can find a way to charm her without words. And you should.”

Then Mr. Gagne pats her shoulders and is on his way.

Nuriel mulls over his words as she goes and finds another box to carry out. Of course she ought not to go seek out the girl. Even if she could speak, the girl thinks that she is a boy, and will likely not take kindly to the truth.

But…

But what if she doesn’t? What if she doesn’t reject Nuriel? What if she is still interested?

Nuriel shakes her head. No, that is a silly line of thought. Even if the girl is that…open-minded, how would Nuriel even begin to woo her? She didn’t have any experience with that sort of thing, even if she could speak?

Regardless, when Nuriel walks back onto the dock, the girl is gone.

Nuriel’s eyes again opened. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the fear, maybe it was the solitude, but she felt flushed, almost feverish but without illness. A smoldering warmth was growing within her, heat building deep within her gut.

She licked her dry lips and turned over onto her side. She knew what it was, of course. It had been years since she had first bled, and was quite accustomed to feeling the warmth of arousal, especially during whatever brief moments of peace she happened to encounter.

Nuriel usually ignored them. She lived life on a razor’s edge and could afford neither distraction nor exposure. The temptation was sweet and seductive, but she knew better to give in, not because of sin, because let us be frank, what those stuck-up cloth-wearers liked to proclaim sin and blasphemy was no less than what they enjoyed behind closed doors, but because it would cause her to drop her guard, making her vulnerable. She had seen grown men, many of them smarter and more experienced than her, end up losing everything because they could not resist a woman’s wiles, and she would not let it happen to her.

But it had to be admitted that there had been a few times, only a scant number, when the burning had become too much to ignore, and she had found herself slipping her fingers down the front of her trousers in the dark of whatever secluded hole she happened to be hiding in at the time. And ever since that night and that girl, those moments of weakness were ever harder to push away.

With a long, slow breath, Nuriel curled up into a ball and closed her eyes. She tried to think of something else to take her mind off the fire that was starting to burn inside her loins.

Maybe she ought to think of what to do about the Santa Carmilla. Sure, it was an ideal base camp, but there were improvements that could be made, alterations to make it a little more homey. Perhaps she could figure out how to make some kind of rope ladder, or patch up the holes, maybe even do something with the now-abandoned captain’s quarters, such as cover up that broken window, do something about the smell, and make some kind of bed so she didn’t have to sleep on a hard, cold floor…

And the girl is there, lying with her in the captain’s cot, hand roaming over Nuriel’s cheek while Nuriel’s own fingers explore her curves. They kiss each other sweetly in the dark, while the gentle sound of the rain outside lulls them both to sleep…

Again Nuriel’s eyes snap open. She let out a low whimper of frustration and, well, arousal, as her thighs squirm against each other in discomfort.

This wasn’t working. She couldn’t come up with a way to distract herself that wouldn’t turn toward the burning need that continued to grow inside of her.

Maybe it was the boredom making her restless. Maybe it was the long solitude, being trapped in the ship’s hull. Maybe it was the general fear and unease of her predicament keeping her on edge. Maybe whatever the red-eyed monster had used to heal her had some…interesting side-effects. But she just couldn’t shake free from the boiling lust clouding her head and setting every inch of her aflame!

Then Nuriel frowned.

Why resist? She was in no danger of being discovered. She was on a forgotten island of monsters and mysteries, and the only other “person” with her already knew where she was. And with the rain being what it was, she was going nowhere for a long time. Why not indulge?

Because it would be wrong. Because succumbing even once to temptation, even in a moment of relative peace and safety, would make it more difficult to resist in the future. Because she had to stay ever vigilant and not give in to-

The feel of the girl’s soft lips as they brush her own, the burning trails in Nuriel’s skin left by the girl’s fingertips as she slides her hands up under the hem of Nuriel’s shirt…

Fuck it.

Swallowing, Nuriel reached down with one hand. Her fingers were trembling and clumsy, but she managed to hook into the ties of her trousers and loosen them. From there, she slid her hand down her trousers’ front. The small, thin patch of hair tickled her palm, and she closed her fingers down over her aching womanhood.

The touch is enough to send shivers ripple over her skin, eliciting a small gasp. Taking in one deep, shuddering breath after another, Nuriel started to move her fingers, caressing the moistening folds as she closed her eyes again.

A hand comes down on Nuriel’s arm.

Startled, she pulls back with a small squeak of surprise, whirling around to face her assailant.

Then she sees dark eyes and gorgeous smile. The girl is there, the same one from the docks, now wearing a simple wraparound garment that leaves her shoulders bare.

But how? Why? How did she get there? How did she know how to find Nuriel?

“Surprised?” she says. Though she pronounces the word well, her inflection and accent tells Nuriel that English is perhaps not her native tongue. It does not matter, as her voice is sweet and rich and full of promise.

“I saw you at the docks,” the girl says by way of explanation. “And I know you saw me.” Tilting her head, she lets one hand slide down her side. “And I think you liked what you saw, did you not, cabinboy?”

Swallowing hard, it is all Nuriel could do to nod.

“Hmmm.” Then the girl nods over to one of the local men, who is laughing raucously at something the first mate said. “That is my cousin. And I told him, well, you will go be with your friends from that ship, yes? Well, there is a pretty cabinboy with them I want to see. And my cousin, he understands. Many men would not, but he does, and he says to me, the cabinboy will be gone tomorrow, why go see what you cannot keep? And I say, all more the reason to go see the cabinboy now.”

Then the girl moves her hand to Nuriel’s, squeezing her fingers. She gives it an insistent tug and tilts her head toward the shadowed part of the beach, her impish smile gleaming even in the darkness.

For a brief moment, Nuriel has no idea what is being offered. The girl wants her to go with her…why? Where? To do what? Puzzled, she tilts her head, her brow furrowed.

Rolling her eyes, the girl tilts her head again, with greater emphasis this time.

And then Nuriel gets it, and the realization causes her breath to catch and her spine to froze. No. Sure the girl couldn’t mean that, could she?

Seeing the look on Nuriel’s face, the girl’s wry smile becomes amused. She chuckles, a light, throaty sound that is honey-sweet to Nuriel’s ears.

Excitement mixing with panic and uncertainty, Nuriel glances around, hoping for some direction. The quartermaster is sitting nearby, an older, roguish man with close-cropped black hair and a cleft in his jaw, and to Nuriel’s chagrin, he is watching Nuriel slyly out of the corner of his eye.

But how long had he been watching her? Does he know what is going on?

Catching Nuriel’s eye, he slowly nods and inclines his head as well. The message is clear. Go with her, you daft idiot.

Nuriel’s eyes widens, and she looks back to the girl, who is now looking quite smug. She stands up and tugs once again on Nuriel’s hand, and this time, Nuriel goes with her.

Nuriel winced as her stomach clenched up. Just the act of indulging in the memory of that night was stoking the fires in her loins as much as the movement of her fingers was. Biting down on her lower lip, she squeezes her thighs together, pressing her hand down harder.

One hand wrapped around Nuriel’s and the other holding the neck of a rum bottle, the girl leads Nuriel away from the bonfire, away from the voices, into the night.

There is a cluster of large boulders splitting the beach in half. The girl takes Nuriel past the boulders so that they give the two of them some privacy, cutting them off from any prying eyes. As soon as they had climbed over the rough rocks and touched down onto the soft sand beyond, the girl suddenly turns around and pushes herself into Nuriel. Startled, Nuriel backs up until she is stopped by the rocks, but the girl doesn’t stop pressing into her. She leans in, planting hot, wet kisses onto Nuriel’s neck and shoulder, and Nuriel, who never had been kissed in her life, is so stupefied that she can do nothing but stand still and let her.

Then with a soft sigh, the girl backs away. “You are quite the blusher, you know that?” she murmurs. “Even in the dark I can see.”

Nuriel nervously swallows.

“Come.”

The girl gently pulls on Nuriel’s wrist, drawing her away from the rocks. She then releases Nuriel’s hand to press a single finger against the top of Nuriel’s chest, guiding her down. Nuriel tries to sit, but she seems to have forgotten how to properly move her legs, and they give way from under her, causing her to drop roughly onto her ass.

The girl laughs. She then kneels down and leans forward, laying one hand in the sand next to Nuriel while the other moves toward Nuriel’s chest.

It is then that a surge of horror breaks through the smoldering desire muddling Nuriel’s brain, and she freezes in fear. Oh fucking Christ, how could she have been so stupid? The girl thought that Nuriel was a boy! And if this kept up, there was no way Nuriel wouldn’t be exposed! She is taking her own life into her hands! Literally!

She panics, jerking away from the girl’s touch and scrambling back on her elbows. But before she can get to her feet to flee, she heard the girl sigh. Then a hand grabs onto the leg of her trousers, stopping her.

Nuriel glances back, eyes wide and heart beating fast. The girl had one lovely eyebrow cocked, her lips lifted in a wry manner. “I know,” she says. “Of course I know. You think I cannot tell another girl when I see one?”

Wait, what?

“You are not the first girl to come through here, trying to pass off as boy,” the girl continues. She reaches up to brush the back of her fingers down Nuriel’s trembling face. “I knew from the second I saw you.”

She did? Was Nuriel’s disguise really that bad? But that would mean-

“Those men you sail with only see what they want to see. They see what they expect to see: a soft boy to order around and do what they do not want to do. But I see what is.” Tilting her head, the girl slides her hand down to rest it on the back of Nuriel’s neck. “You are like me, yes? Not just girl, but girl who likes pretty things, yes?” She smiles that beautiful smile, the one that catches the breath in Nuriel’s throat and sends her heart pattering. “Girl who cares not for the touch of man, girl who shivers at the touch of other girl, yes?”

There is a pause, and Nuriel slowly nods.

“I thought so. Well then, little cabinboy, let me give you a moment of honesty.” Her hand pulling Nuriel’s head forward, the girl closes her eyes and leans in, her lips parted and ready.

Nuriel’s hand paused. Tears were starting to well up in her eyes. As beloved as that night was to her, this part of the memory hurt the most, and yet was the part she most treasured.

Nuriel finds herself responding, leaning in as well. But when she feels the girl’s soft lips brush her own, suddenly the floodgates within her mind are opened, unleashing a torrent of darkness and pain.

The cold steel is forced into her mouth, holding her jaws apart.

Nuriel jerks back with a gasp, her hands clapped over her mouth. No, no, no. Not this. Not now.

The crushing grip of the pincers that are squeezed down on her tongue and yank it out of her mouth.

“What is wrong?” the girl asks. “Did I frighten you?”

Shaking her head, Nuriel turns away so that the girl won’t see the look of grief and shame on her face.

The agonizing feel of the heated steel blade, both cutting and burning as it slices through Nuriel’s tongue and sears the back of her throat. She screams and screams and screams, but the pain doesn’t stop, the cutting doesn’t stop, until-

Sobbing, Nuriel covers her face as the useless stump in her mouth throbs with ghost pain. Why did it have to happen now? Was it because she dropped her guard? Was this her punishment for not being more careful.

And then a slender hand gently lays itself on her shoulder. “What is wrong?” the girl says. “What happened to you?”

Oh God, she knows. She may not know exactly what had happened, but she knows of the hurt Nuriel was carrying around. Damn it, damn it, damn it! That is what she gets for letting herself become vulnerable!

The girl touches Nuriel’s cheek and draws her face around so she can see it. “Please, tell me,” she insists. The sultriness in her eyes is gone, replaced by nothing but concern and compassion.

Nuriel almost turns away again, almost pushes her away. She already went too far, opened herself up too much. To expose herself any further would only make her even more vulnerable. Father would give her one hell of a tongue-lashing were he alive.

But instead, for reasons even she doesn’t fully understand, Nuriel just stares deep into the girl’s dark eyes. Then, with a harsh swallow, she opens her mouth and pulls her cheeks apart to show her.

The girl frowns in puzzlement. Tilting her head, she leans in for a better look, something that is no doubt difficult in the dark.

But then she sees.

“Oh, sweet Lord,” she gasps, covering her mouth. “Your tongue!”

Closing her mouth, Nuriel swallows again at the lump in her throat and nods.

“What…Who would…” Then the girl’s eyes narrow, and she looks back to the bonfire. “Did they do that to you?”

Oh God, she thought the crew were responsible! Nuriel hastily and emphatically shakes her head.

“Then who?”

Oh, that was a story too long, too complicated, and too painful to tell even if Nuriel could speak. She slowly lets out a long, shuddering breath, and then spreads her hands apart.

“Large…No, long. It happened a long time ago?”

Nuriel nods.

Sighing, the girl leans back on her haunches and shakes her head. “I am sorry,” she says simply. “I did not know you had been hurt so. It must have been a very, very evil person.”

A small sob shakes Nuriel’s shoulders. A very, very evil person indeed.

There is an awkward pause, and then the girls asks, “Would you like to stop? Is it too painful?”

She ought to say yes. Nuriel ought to stop things now, to compose herself and return to the ship. That would be the safer course of action.

Instead, she finds herself shaking her head. Safer, perhaps, but she doesn’t want to do that. Instead, she wants…she wants…

“I understand. Then, shall I comfort you?”

That. She wants that.

Nuriel sniffs and nods.

The girls says nothing in response. She merely leans in, and instead of caressing or kissing her, she wraps her arms around Nuriel and holds her tight. Nuriel clenches up a bit at the unfamiliar touch, but she doesn’t draw back. Part of her is scared, yes, and part of her wants to run away and hide. But so much of her wants this and wants this badly, yearning to hold someone warm and kind and be held in turn.

Nuriel gingerly and stiffly encircles her arms around the girl, clasping her hands behind the girls back. It takes her some time to work up the nerve, but she tightens her arms around the girl’s middle.

It is Nuriel’s first time being held like that. Though she knows that Father loved her and did his best to take care of her in his own way, he wasn’t one to show it like that, the few times he actually hugged her being few and far between. He did hold her tight the night that her tongue was cut out, and more times afterward. But his death came not long after, and Nuriel was left alone.

She thought that she had everything under control. She thought that she recovered and was steady in her mind and heart.

Clearly, she knew nothing.

Nuriel clings to the girl, the stranger whose name she doesn’t even know, holding onto her as if doing so could save her. Tears continue to stream down her face, tears that she normally would push back but now simply let run free. A reservoir is being emptied, one of pain, of grief, and of loneliness, one that she didn’t even know she was carrying around.

And the girl lets her. Though she doesn’t know Nuriel, though they probably won’t even see each other again after tonight, she continues to hold onto the strange girl without a tongue, letting her cry.

Then the girl parts from her. She draws her hand down the side of Nuriel’s face, brushing away her tears, and cups her cheek. “Maybe you won’t taste this,” she says. “But you will feel it.”

As the two lock eyes, the girl lifts up the bottom of rum with her other hand, pulls out the cork with her teeth, and takes a long drink. Despite everything that is going on, Nuriel is impressed, as the strong drink doesn’t even make her wince.

Lowering the bottle, the girl smiles, the mischievous twinkle in her eye visible even in the dark. It is clear that she did not swallow, as her cheeks are puffed out.

This time, when she moves in to kiss Nuriel, Nuriel doesn’t pull back or resist. The reflexive tightening of her gut and the urge to flee again rise up, but she fights them, letting the girl press her lovely mouth against her own.

Though there was much about that night that Nuriel held dear, it was that first kiss that burned the brightest in her memory, a moment of intimacy that still left her lips tingling to that day. Warm pleasure rippled out from her core from the memory alone, causing her back to arch.

Shivering with feverish delight, Nuriel pulled her hand out from her trousers and braced her back against a wooden beam. She loosened her trousers’ bindings even further and pulled them down off her hips and past her thighs. Then, settling back on her bare buttocks, she again pressed her hand back onto her yearning sex as she let the echoes of the best night of her life wash back over her.

As their mouths make contact, Nuriel feels the strength leave her, and she lets the kiss melt into, leaning back onto her elbows as the girl presses her body into Nuriel’s.

At first Nuriel really isn’t sure how to properly respond, so she tries to copy what the girl’s mouth is doing with her own. The movements of her lips are clumsy and amateurish, but the girl doesn’t seem to mind.

Then Nuriel feels something slick and warm slip in-between her lips. It’s the girl’s tongue, pushing and probing its way into Nuriel’s mouth.

Was this a normal part of kissing? Nuriel didn’t know, and with no tongue of her own she surely couldn’t respond in kind. So she did the only thing she could do: lean back and let the girl do whatever she wanted.

The girl’s tongue parts Nuriel’s lips, and then Nuriel feels warm rum flood from the girl’s mouth into her own. The harsh alcohol burns her mouth, and of course Nuriel can’t taste it. And yet, it is somehow sweet.

She swallows. It burns, yes, but it also warms, giving Nuriel courage to press on.

Then the girl places a hand on Nuriel’s chest, right over her heart. She gives a gentle push, and Nuriel is more than happy to comply, letting herself be pressed down flat on her back in the sand. She stretches her torso across Nuriel’s, heart-to-heart, and kisses her again. Nuriel lets out a small groan of pleasure.  

The girl then sits back on Nuriel’s lap, legs straddling her to either side, her sensual smile reflecting the moonlight, her midnight-black hair like a veil framed by the stars in the night sky.

In that moment, she looks like a goddess.

As Nuriel stares in awe, the girl reaches up to take the edge of the wraparound garment she’s wearing. A few tugs, and it loosens around her torso.

Nuriel’s heartrate quickens. Oh, it’s happening, it’s really happening.

Not taking averting her eyes from Nuriel’s and without even a hint of shame or embarrassment, the girl gives her garment a small push from the top, and it down, sliding down off of her, unveiling the perfection beneath.

Nuriel can’t keep from gasping a little. She never even dreamed something like this could happen to her, and yet here she is, lying back beneath a starry sky as a beautiful girl undressed for her.

Obviously enjoying Nuriel’s reaction, the girl lounges back a little, turning so that her breasts, small but perfectly shaped, are silhouetted against the stars. Nuriel’s fingers involuntarily clench, digging furrows in the sand.

Sighing, the girl leans forward, lowering her body back down onto Nuriel’s. “You can touch me, if you like,” she murmurs as she nuzzles her face into where Nuriel’s neck met her shoulder, planting small kisses on Nuriel’s freckled skin.

Nuriel’s nods, and she gingerly lifts her hands and settles them on the small of the girl’s naked back. Her skin is silky smooth, with a slight covering of sweat. She moves them upward, finally clasping them behind the girl’s shoulders.

“That is it?” the girl says in mock-disappointment. “Why do you not touch me…here.”

And then, before Nuriel could fully comprehend what is about to happen, the girl grabs Nuriel’s arm and rises up, pulling Nuriel’s hands around and pushing them into her breasts.

Nuriel sucks in air between her teeth. Oh. Oh yes. This was nice. This was very nice. She squeezed her hands in, digging them into the soft mounds, and judging by the throaty moan, it was clear that the girl quite enjoyed the experience.

And then the girl lays her hand on Nuriel’s own chest. “Hmmm,” she says. “This feels…ah. Of course you would?”

She would? She would what? What was Nuriel doing.

“Please keep doing what you’re doing,” the girl says as she coyly fingers the top button of Nuriel’s shirt. “This will not take long.”

Nodding, Nuriel continues to knead the girl’s breasts, squeezing the flesh while the girl unbuttons Nuriel’s shirt, starting from the top and working her way down, uncovering her little by little.

She reaches the bottom and slips her fingers in under hem. Leaning forward again, she places another kiss on Nuriel’s lips as she slides her fingers up, parting her shirt to either side.

Then she sits back, her hands coming up and gently pushing Nuriel’s hands away from her breasts. Taking the hint, Nuriel lets them fall to either side.

“A shame you have to hide like so,” the girl murmurs as she reaches down to slide a single finger over the linen binding Nuriel’s chest. “I understand, but tonight, no disguises, yes?”

Nuriel slowly nods.

“Good. Now, sit up a little, please.”

Nuriel struggles to obey, propping herself up on her elbows. The girl runs her hand over Nuriel’s belly, sending shivers across Nuriel’s skin, and reaches behind Nuriel’s back, arms going into her shirt. Her fingers find the edge of the linen wrapping, and she works to loosen it.

Remaining perfectly still, Nuriel stares up at the beautiful girl as she is slowly unwrapped. Finally the girl finishes peeling the linen off from Nuriel’s chest and sets it aside. Then she smiles down at what she sees.

Given her lifestyle, Nuriel never gave much thought to her own breasts, save to find them annoying when she had to tie them up. They weren’t large; in fact they were smaller than the girl currently undressing her, but it did not pay to become complacent.

But now, as the girl looks appreciatively down at her exposed chest, Nuriel suddenly finds herself quite fond of them. No one ever looked at her like that before.

The girl playfully drags a finger over Nuriel’s chest, circling around one breast and then the other. Then she takes the slight mount in her hand and bends over to close her mouth over one tiny, pink nipple.

Nuriel squirms and gasps in ecstasy. The girl sucks and kisses the hard nub, swirling her tongue around its base and kissing its peak. Then she moves her mouth over to the other breast and does the same.

Nuriel is again on the verge of tears, but not from any buried pain or shame, but from the waves of hot arousal surging through her young body. She never felt anything like this before, never imagined that it could be so good.

When she woke up that morning, she was a girl pretending to be a boy. And soon she would have to go back to being that. But for now, for this brief moment of pleasure, of vulnerability, of exposure, of naked honesty, for the first time in her life she is a woman.

The girl again sits up and wipes her mouth. Nuriel blinks her eyes, trying to clear her head. As wonderful as that felt, she doesn’t want to miss a thing.

The girl reaches down and takes the hem of the garment lying around her waist and slowly opens it up, revealing the rest of her.

Then the girl slides back off of Nuriel’s lap down between her legs. She gets onto all fours, the curve of he rear sticking into the air, and lowers her top half down over Nuriel’s waist. Running her fingers over Nuriel’s lap, she mischievously played with the laces, flicking them back and forth, before finally untying them. One they were loose, she grabbed onto the waistline and pulled them down.

Unable to wipe the silly grin off of her face, Nuriel craned her neck to watch as her trousers were tugged down past her thighs, down to her knees. Leaving it at that, the girl then runs her hand over Nuriel’s thighs and traces the contours of her groin.

Nuriel’s abdominals clench up in anticipation. Sweet Jesus, this is actually happening. This is-

Her eyes closing, the girl lowers her head down between Nuriel’s legs.

“Nnngguhhh!”

Nuriel’s hips bucked as she came, warm arousal flooding her palm. She hissed sharply, her back arching, thrusting her sex into her own hand, riding out the first orgasm she had been permitted in months.

The waves of bliss rise and crash, rise and crash, until finally the beautiful torture subsides, leaving a comfortable ache in its wake. Panting, Nuriel removed her hand and let it drop to the floor.

For a time it was all she could do to just lay there, feeling drained, sticky, but relieved. It was like finally being able to scratch a persistent itch at the bottom of her foot, one she had been unable to reach because she never had the opportunity to remove her boot. It feels like heavy stones had been rolled off her shoulders, and she could finally lie down and rest.

She had felt the same that night. When all was said and done, and she and the girl, whose name Nuriel still didn’t know, had laid together in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow, sleep had come upon her so quickly that she hadn’t even realized that she was tired until she was waking up the next morning, still sprawled out on the beach.

When she did, the girl had been gone.

Nuriel had panicked then, convinced that it had all been a set-up, that the girl had led her away, gained her trust, and seduced her only to rob her after.

And yet, upon frenzied inspection, Saint George remained in his hidden sheath, and the few coins that she had secreted upon her body were still there. The girl had even taken the time to replaced Nuriel’s bindings and button up her shirt, leaving her disguise intact.

But she was still gone.

There had been many leering grins and knowing looks when Nuriel had returned to the Periwinkle. Mr. Gagne had slapped her on the back, and some of the crew had cheered. Nuriel’s had been flushed with embarrassment, but also somewhat proud. Regardless of what they knew about her, the crew had still been proud of her, and she appreciated that.

Even so, she had never seen the girl again. But she never, ever forgot her.

Gradually the blissful haze started to dissipate from her mind, and she started to feel her strength return. Sighing happily, she lifted her ass and pulled her trousers back up, though she left the ties undone. Then she lay down flat on the ground, curled up into as comfortable position as she could, and let herself drift off, hoping that if she dreamed, it would be of that girl.

As the soft drumming of the rain lulled her back to sleep, Nuriel found herself wondering if her new red-eyed friend had been watching.

…

When Nuriel’s eyes opened again, rain no longer pounded against the Santa Carmilla’s hull, and light was streaming in from the various cracks and holes.

Blinking, she slowly straightened up. A knot in her neck made her wince, as did the looseness of her right arm, which she had apparently slept on. What was more, her head was throbbing, probably thanks to that wine. Massaging her neck with her left hand while she shook some life into her right, she looked around.

It was day, and the storm was over. Outside she could hear the sound of seabirds mingling with the surf.

She had survived.

As the rest of her body woke up, Nuriel took notice of something interesting. Her friend had again returned. The basket was once again full of fruit. What was more, it was joined by a smaller basket. She leaned forward to look inside.

Inside were several chunks of some kind of cooked meat. Fish, from the smell, though whoever had done the cooking hadn’t been very good at it, as it seemed like they had simply torn out chunks and charred them over a fire. She gingerly reached down and prodded on especially blackened piece. It was still a little warm, so it hadn’t been there for that long.

Nuriel shrugged. Who cared? Taste never mattered to her anyway.

She scarfed down breakfast, shoveling handfuls of burnt and greasy fish and chunks of wild fruit into her mouth.

As she did, she took note of the two wine bottles, now sitting upright near the baskets. She grabbed one and sloshed it around. It was full.

Good.

Nuriel swallowed her mouthful and took a sip.

A second later she coughed. She had been expecting wine, but instead it was only water.

Well, whatever. It was probably for the best. Wine was good for when she needed to rest, but water was what she needed now. Her throat was parched, and her head hurt.

Moments later Nuriel had gone through both baskets and drank a bottle and a half. She sat back, feeling better than she had in a good long while. Her hurts were healed, her belly was full, her throat was wetted, and even her headache was clearing up.

Feeling cheered, Nuriel slowly rose to her feet. They wobbled, but held.

Then she noticed that the note that the red-eyed monster had left her was still there, lying near where she had slept.

Frowning, she knelt down and picked it up. It was still very long, and though it was obviously by the same hand that had left her that first note, this one was hurried, almost frantic.

Well, reading it would be difficult enough even in the shadows of the ship’s cargo space. Nuriel ascended the steps, braced her shoulder against the hatch, and shoved it open.

The bright light of the sun made her wince, and certainly did the receding throb in her head no favors. Squinting, Nuriel walked out onto the deck and looked around.

It was either late morning or early afternoon. The sun was high, and the sky clear. All in all, it was a very lovely day, and the view was astounding.

If one were to overlook all of the monsters out there looking to eat her, of course.

Nuriel blinked until her eyes had adjusted. Then she sat down in the sunlight to try to decipher the letter.

Her reading skills were quite rusty, and never that thorough to begin with. And the hand that wrote it had done so…quickly. Still, the letters were large, so it was clear that the writer really wanted to get the message across.

After some time she managed to get the gist of it. It went a little something like this.

I am so, so, SO sorry I scared you. That was not my (here was a long word that she had to really spell out, but she felt that it was probably “intention”) at all. Please (another long word, something-“stand”) that I am not a threat. I swear by my blood (by its blood? Was that some kind of witchcraft thing?) that I mean you no harm. You have nothing to fear from me.

Nuriel frowned. That was unlikely.

But please, please, PLEASE (here the word was written so large that it was nearly the size of the preceding paragraph) never do anything that (um, what was this word? Something-less, starts with an “r”) ever again! The island is (damn it, another big word! Dan…dangger…no, danger! Dangerous!) at night! Well, it is dangerous at day, but even more at night!

Well, on that, Nuriel agreed.

I drove the birds away from the ship, and made sure they will not return. But they are active at night, and if you go out too far, I cannot stop them from hunting you! Nor any of the other (mon…mon…Mondays? No, wait, monsters! Of course it was monsters. Why hadn’t she known that? She had certainly had the word repeating in her mind over and over again lately!) that hunt in the dark.

Nuriel breathed out. It sounded like her red-eyed friend was telling her to stay put at night, to not leave the ship. And Nuriel didn’t care for that. She wasn’t one to appreciate being told to stay or stay out of anywhere.

Then again, considering what had happened the last time she had left the ship when the moon was out…

I know I have given you little reason to trust me, and I am sorry for that. If you wish for me to leave you alone, I will do so. But I have been trapped alone on this island for a very long time, and never (ex…expe..expected!) to share it with such a brave, (cutting? Did the letter just call her cutting? No, wait, those were n’s. Cunning. Was that even a word?), and, if you do not mind me saying, (here was another long word, but Nuriel recognized it immediately, and it made her groan a little) beautiful young fighter such as yourself.

Despite everything, Nuriel couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Great, flattery.

I have been watching you from afar, and you really are quite (another long word that started with “ex,” one that Nuriel couldn’t even begin to guess at. Probably some kind of silly compliment)! Please, it would break my heart to see you come to harm especially in response to me.

If you wish for me to go, then I will do so, never to step foot near the Carmilla's Fancy ever again. I would not blame you if that were to be the case. There would be no hard feelings.

But, if you would permit me to continue to keep watch over you, I think you would find me very useful. You needn’t even see me. I will stay out of sight, bringing what you need while you sleep and keeping the monsters away.

Again Nuriel frowned. She didn’t like the thought of anyone or anything strange doing stuff while she slept, regardless of what it was.

But again, if you’d rather I not, then I would understand.

Just please promise me that you will stay safe.

Please.

And at the bottom was a flourished signature, one that Nuriel couldn’t even begin to decipher, other than it also began with an “N.”

Breathing out, Nuriel slowly lowered the paper. She sat down cross-legged on the deck and thought.

Clearly the red-eyed monster was a strange one. It was not human; that much was obvious. But Nuriel was no longer convinced that it was some kind of malicious demon. She still didn’t trust her unsettling friend, if that truly what it was, but she didn’t feel as threatened by it either.

But what to do? What if she grew complacent, came to rely on the red-eyed monster’s gifts, and it cost Nuriel her soul? What if in accepting its help she ended up damned?

You already ate its food, came the reply from the back of her mind. You already drank its wine and accepted its gifts. In for a penny…

Nuriel shivered, but she had no retort.

You tried to flee, and it almost got you killed. It was only because of the demon that you still live. And if your stubbornness kills you, then what good would your purity do? You will be burning in Hell regardless.

That was true. That was very true.

Nuriel looked down at the letter. It was true, there was nothing more dangerous than the attention of another person, and whatever this thing was, it was clear that Nuriel had its full attention. And yet, if it weren’t for that attention, she would be dead.

But what if that was the point? What if the red-eyed monster was lulling her into a false sense of security, to make Nuriel reliant on its help? What if she became too accustomed to its gifts and protection? She might as well put the collar around her own neck for it!

On the other hand, there was literally nothing stopping it from taking her by force if it wanted to. Anything capable of driving off the razor-birds and keeping the other monsters away would have no trouble subduing one small girl. It wouldn’t need to get her to drop her guard; it only needed to act, and she would be helpless to stop it.

Still, there were many stories that claimed that for all their power, creatures such as demons, the Fair Folk, spirits, and the like were bound by certain rules, and could only act according to those rules. That was why so many stories were based around them disguising themselves and engaging in some kind of trickery in order to steal souls, because they would be unable otherwise.

But again, what good would her soul do her if she were torn to pieces, if she were to starve to death, if she were to be fall sick to infection or some strange, exotic disease?

It was a puzzler, one that Nuriel had to be very careful in solving. She sat down and thought for a very long time.

Then, after nearly an hour, Nuriel stood. She walked over to the captain’s cabin and looked inside.

It was still empty, bereft of bloodthirsty birds, but the chest remained. Squatting in front of it, Nuriel perused its remaining contents until she found what she was looking for: a piece of charcoal, a hammer, and a nail. Then she turned the note over to where there was still some blank space and with unpracticed hands jotted out two rough words.

That done, she pressed the note to the side of the ruined mast and used the hammer to drive the nail through, pinning the note in place. The red-eyed monster was sure to return, and when it did the note would be waiting for it.

Nuriel’s message simply read, “THANK YOU.”

Imagine:

Erik walking in on the reader masturbating and she tries to cover herself with embarrassment

Bruce "Viper" Holmes. A notorious mobster and drug lord in Miami since the late 1980s. He had three older sons but one of them disowned his father and moved away to private property in the Virgin Islands with his wife and the other two were murdered. He has a daughter too, around 23 years old, a recent college graduate and her father's soft spot. She's a flower in the barrel of a gun. Calm his raging murderous storm. Bruce has her on a 24/7 watch with constant bodyguards. She really wanted to live on her own but they both knew that if she did, someone out there would try and kill her to get revenge for losing a loved one of their own because of Bruce. Then there is Killmonger. Bruce's personal hitman. He's been working with Bruce for years, a trusted partner who got the job done. Erik came and went whenever he had to pay a visit to Bruce. There was a new job that would earn him 1.8 million so Erik wasn't about to let that go. He showed up, dressed in all black and earning many scowls from Bruce's men. Erik could take out that entire room if he wanted to but Bruce paid him so well. Before he could step into his office, a girl opens the door, standing before Erik wearing a pair of tiny denim shorts, a fitted white crop top and her curly fro pulled up into a neat top knot bun. Erik took a cautious step back, fully admiring the girl from head to toe. Sexy as a motherfucker for sure. A little young but not too young.

"You must be Killmonger," She says with no regard. “How do you know who the fuck I am?”

“My father was saying something about you looking after me since my favorite bodyguard got shot and killed a week back. He told me to pick and I chose you.”

This didn’t sound like it involved earning 1.8 million dollars. This was a damn babysitting job. She was a grown-ass woman, not a kindergartner. 

“Is he in there?” Erik didn’t care that he sounded irritated. He came to put a few bullets in somebody not play house. 

“Yeah, he’s smoking his cigars,” His daughter looked at Erik very closely, an attitude on her face. Erik wanted to grab her little ass up and fix that face for her but this was his boss's daughter. He swallowed his pride, for now, giving her one final look before stepping into her father's office. 

Sure enough, the 1.8 million was for watching over Y/N for him while he left town for 48 hours. Bruce told him that he only trusted Erik to get the job done because he knew Erik could hold his own and do what he’s supposed to do better than his other men. Everything Bruce said was true but Erik could be earning his money in a more meaningful way. And by meaningful that means killing. But, Y/N’s safety is important and Erik wouldn’t be able to live with her death on his conscious. Bruce left that very night leaving Erik in his Miami estate alone minus the two guards who kept watch from the outside of the house. 

Erik made himself comfortable in a guest bedroom, staring angrily at his weapon bag that would not be put to use. A knock came to his room door, Erik getting up to open it. Y/N was the source of the knock. She had on a tight and short strapless body con dress colored baby blue with some rather scandalous heels on her feet and hair out in a cute curly fro. She was looking...real good. She had those titties all out, curves on display for any hungry nigga to hound her. Shit didn't make no sense how sexy Bruce's daughter was. Last time Erik had been with a woman was over three months ago

"I wanna go out." "Girl, I'm not taking your ass nowhere. Bruce said to keep you home since shit is popping off." She kissed her teeth, "So you mean to tell me, I got all dressed up for nothing?" Erik shrugs, "Ain't my problem, ma. I'm not tryna play hero and keep you safe in the middle of a shoot out. I need you as far away from that shit as possible." She was really pissed off with Erik. Her pretty round face was all scrunched up, arms folded and a pout on her lips. "I really thought you would be the chill one out of all my dad's old ass bodyguards but nope you're the same. Just as boring and annoying." She had a lot of mouth on her. Erik narrows his eyes at her, nostrils flared and lips set in a hard line. Y/N stepped off a bit, swallowing spit. "You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I fuck it." Y/N's jaw was on the floor. She was stunned. Y/N could not believe that Erik just said that to her. He couldn't believe it either but it was in Erik's character to say some shit like that to mouthy little bitches. He had a habit of degrading them by fucking their mouths until they gagged. Bruce's daughter may have an attitude but she wasn't used to that kind of treatment, Erik could tell. She probably got a tight as fuck pussy on her too, fuck that shit and feel like you're in some virgin pussy again.

Holy Shit. He was thinking about her pussy. These 48 hours are going to be hard.

"Is this how you talk to all the women you sleep with?" She was curious, leaning in closer to him. She had no respect for Erik's space now. "Don't worry about it. Just go back to your room, take this shit off, and relax, ma. You ain't going nowhere." "Wow," she rolls her eyes, "Remind me to never recommend you to be my new bodyguard again." "You're loss," he gave her a teasing smile. She glared at him, marching away from his door and back to her room. Erik couldn't help but stare at the bounce of her hips. She was very sexy and Bruce wasn't around to reprimand him for checking out his precious daughter.

Back in her room, making sure to slam the double doors shut and kick it for good measure, Y/N marched over to her bed like the brat she is, flopping down on the plush mattress covered in velvet bedding. Her phone was going off the hook too. Her girls were probably wondering where the fuck she was since she told them her bodyguard would be taking her out. Oh well, those plans were over. "Bitch ass, nigga," she complained to herself. Y/N was hoping to get some dick tonight too. An old college friend of hers that her father didn't really approve of but Y/N wanted a piece of was gonna be at that party. Ever since she graduated she hadn't had any dick. That was over a year ago. Her father was really strict with everything she did. Y/N appreciated it because she didn't want to end up like her brothers but at the same time, she wanted freedom. That's why she chose Killmonger. He was younger than her father's other henchmen, Wild from the talks she heard about him when she was being nosy, and he was sexy as fuck. She really thought about flashing him her titties to change his mind but he looked like a no-nonsense type so Y/N didn't try and taunt him. Although, he did taunt her.

Watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I fuck it.

Something stirred within her. The inner freak that had been locked away for so damn long. So he washed bitches mouths out with the dick? Disrespectful bitches got a dick in their mouths, huh? She liked that. She liked that a lot. He was so large compared to her. Definitely a Daddy for sure. Y/N would call Killmonger Daddy while he fucked her tight pussy. She just knew he had a big dick. None of the condoms she had would fit him. He'd have to pull out when he was about to cum.

If the condoms can't fit him, will his dick fit in me?

She couldn't help but let that thought cross her mind. Look at Y/N, thinking about fucking her dad's hitman. He was a murderer. Any other chick would be scared but Y/N... she wasn't a scaredy-cat at all. She'd be a big girl and fuck Killmonger. Killer and all. She wanted to see his guns...big guns plus a big dick would surely have Y/N on her knees or giving up the pussy.

"Fuck, I can't believe myself." She laughs, running her fingers over her heated flesh. Lord, she was horny now and ready to cum. Y/N lifts her dress up, body arched over the edge of the bed. She picks up a mirror from her side table that she used earlier to check her makeup, aiming it at her pussy from the back. She takes her other hand, pulling her panties down to see just how much of a mess she created from thinking about Killmonger. Sure enough, when she used her thumb to pull her panties to the side, a long string of nectar was connected to her panties from her phat pussy lips. She took in a sharp breath before releasing it longingly. Her pussy was so damn phat and wet right now thinking about him. "Killmonger, look what you did to me," she was so fucking horny. Y/N takes her fingers, pulling her lips apart, watching all that pink she has pop out and contrast beautifully against the brown of her outer lips. She tweaked her clit, a shiver running down her spine. Y/N starts popping her ass, watching all that slimy wet connect like her own personal glue to her pussy lips and her fingers. She'd never been this damn wet in her life. "Fuck," she moans, lifting up onto her knees to remove her dress. Fuck this shit, she needed to play with herself. Fully naked, Y/N gets off the bed, practically skipping over to her walk-in closet to retrieve her favorite pink dildo. This called for a squirt or two...maybe three. Just the thought of him being in a room down the hall probably wearing nothing right now or cleaning his guns made her shudder. She found her baby, kissing it before walking back to her bed. She grabbed her MacBook, a porn tab already up from the last video she watched. Y/N liked to watch black women masturbate, making themselves cream and squirt. She needed a video of a woman with a whole lot of ass getting drilled from behind this time around. She found her favorite, noticing the butt plug that the woman had and wishing she had one too. She likes anal.

Erik was freshly showered and dressed in a pair of black linen lounge pants that rested low on his hips. He did a lazy towel job on his body, water still dripping down the middle of his spine and on his chest. He was doing exactly what Y/N guessed; cleaning his guns. His favorite gun; a personalized Smith & Wesson. He still had a little blood around the barrel from his last job back in Germany. Unable to help himself, Erik kept thinking about Y/N and how he deprived her of going out. She was definitely grown and here he was making decisions for her like she was his daughter. He really didn't need the girl to go complaining to her father about Erik, making some shit up to mess up his money flow. Tossing his gun down, Erik looked up at himself in the mirror, his mind in a turmoil. With a risky decision, he decided to leave and go talk to the girl. Hopefully, turn the conversation around so that she could see his point of view. He left his room, walking within the dark hall of the estate to what he guessed was Y/N's room. It wasn't hard to find, her room was the only room with a glow of light coming from it. His footsteps were silent against the plush carpet as he finally stood face to face with the double doors to her bedroom suite. Erik places his fist into the open palm of his other hand, shifting on his bare feet to gather himself before knocking. Before he could, a wail came from her room. He froze, straining his ears to hear the sound again. Sure enough, the sound came back again, only this time, louder. Shit, if he was in his room, he'd probably hear it. Throwing caution to the wind, Erik grabs both handles, opening the door to see if she was okay. After all, he was ordered to protect her. The second he entered that room he wished he hadn't. Maybe he was lying to himself but the sheer embarrassment on Y/N's face made him feel guilty and ready to run from the estate altogether. Facedown, ass up, Y/N was thrusting a dildo into her pussy from the back while rubbing her clit. She was moaning and crying from how good her pussy felt before Erik disrupted her playtime. Her MacBook was opened, a compilation video of ebony women squirting and cumming all over the place. The cum loads from these women alone were massive and it stole Erik's attention for sure. He would buss a nut to the shit too. He even heard Killmonger roll off her tongue before she noticed him. Y/N's body rolled off of the bed, charging towards Erik with wide eyes before shoving his heavy body out of her room, slamming her doors shut. The sound echoed down the hall. Erik stood there, staring at those damn doors with shock. His mouth was hanging open, mind unable to unsee what he just saw. Erik heard silence now on the other side of the door, his hand coming up to knock softly. "Y/N, you decent now?" He asked. "Go awayyyyyyy Killmonger!" She sounded like she was crying. Damn, he embarrassed the hell out of her for opening those doors. "Don't you know how to fucking knock?!" "Yeah, I just thought some shit was happening to you...not...this..." "Wow," she was sniffling, "something was about to happen to me until you showed up!" She groaned loudly, probably yanking her hair too. "This is definitely not happening to me right now." Erik wanted to comfort her, reassure her that he was absolutely sorry for barging into her private moment like that. He wanted to say that to her but the slyness inside of him was happy he saw what he saw. She was a little freak. Cumming to other bitches cumming. He wanted to know what else she watched. If only she wasn't embarrassed and asked him to come and join her he would find out for himself while his dick was deep in that pussy. Speaking of pussy she had a nice phat wet puss. Her pussy creamed all over that neon pink dildo that she was thrusting in and out of that twat. He turned his back on the door, struggling if he should stay or go. Fuck, he really wanted to stay and finish what he messed up. He'd give anything to see that little pussy cum. His dick was bobbing up and down in his linen pants. Erik looked down at his crotch within the darkness, lips all poked out and eyes low while he stared at his dick twitching and knocking against the crotch of his pants. That monster wanted to be freed. He placed his face against the door, talking into the crack of the door so she could hear him clearly. "Y/N, please open up, I'm sorry, ma." He tried to sound as sincere as possible to get her to open those doors. His dick was even pressing into the door. The hard surface was the perfect amount of texture on his dick right now. "Erik lets out a soft sigh, "please?" "For what? So you can laugh at me? I don't think so. Go back to your room, asshole." "I said I didn't mean to, how many times do you want me to tell you I'm sorry?!" He was growing angry. His dick was too. He was hard as steel now. "Fuck your sorry. I am so fucking embarrassed right now." "Just open the goddamn door, shit." His begging finally worked. She flung her doors opened, body wrapped in a robe now and hair pulled up into a bun, she had her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face but she could not look into his eyes. He understands she was in a very very open position. Erik didn't like the change but she was still sexy no matter what. He hoped that she would have opened the door naked. "What the fuck is it?" "Watch your mouth talking to me," Erik fires back. "I'll talk to you however I please. My dad is paying you so that means you listen to what I say." She was looking at him now but her voice was shaky. She was so nervous and still very embarrassed. "See, your dad is paying me. Not you. And you listen to what I say, Y/N. I see you ain't leave this fucking house." "Watch I put my dress and heels on and leave right now." "I fucking dare you to try me," Erik was sizing her up now, his body bumping into hers, pushing her further into the room. He was inside again, the sweet smell of her sex around him. She must have been in here cumming back to back. Erik let his eyes linger on the bed. Sure enough, there was a large ass wet spot in the center. "Damn, you did all that?" He couldn't stop himself even if he tried. Y/N covered her face, walking away to use the velvet bedding to hide her mess. "Nah, ain't no shame in that, ma, let it show." She was growing hot again. Her pussy was begging to cum, she was right...there. And in comes this big nigga.

Damn...he actually came in my room

She wanted to rip that robe off and stuff her fingers in her pussy.

"What's wrong now, Y/N?" "You. It's your fault. Just get the fuck out." "So you can moan my name again?" She turns to him slowly, taking him in fully now since he wasn't in that dark hall anymore. His thick dick was standing straight out at her with no regard. Muscles carved into his lean body, tiny raised scars all over him symmetrical. He didn't even hide how horny he was. She was correct, her condoms would not fit around that dick. He would break them bitches before she could even get it down and around him. His big dick ass had her sucking on her bottom lip now to control herself. That inner freak was ready to pounce. "Y/N." Erik was walking up on her now, his dick pressed into her ass. "Shit," she sounds out, looking at him over her shoulder with a roll of her eyes. "You tryna get me in trouble?" He spoke in a low tone. "No. You won't anyway. All surveillance is off in the house except for outside." "Hmm," Erik looked down on her ass cheeks. His dick was in between both of them. "Now why would you do that?" "Because I can." "Because you can," Erik repeated her words. "It's my fucking house." "See...I like you." She was dying to hear those words. At this point, there was no turning back. He was in her bedroom now with his dick between her cheeks. This shit was totally off-limits. "You ain't scared of me?" The touch he gave to her chin made her booty arch into his crotch further. "No. I ain't scared of men like you." "Oh, Forreal?" He was smiling down at her with this glint in his eyes. "I see men like you every day in my house. What makes you any different?" He laughs, "Because I'm not like these men that walk around your father's house. I'm Killmonger, there's a difference. You should know, you chose me, right?" He had a good point. Y/N could tell from jump that he was nothing like the other men. "Yeah, I could see that." "So then ima ask your ass again, you ain't scared of me?" She shakes her head no. "Open your fucking mouth." "NO." She let him know real quick. Erik presses his lips to her ear, "You definitely ain't going nowhere since you so brave, babygirl." What exactly was he referring to? Was he gonna fuck her so good that she would need her meals brought to her bed? "Where's that dildo?" He asked with his eyes still on her. Y/N pointed to the bed, Erik noticing it on her laptop keyboard. "Pick it up." She did, holding it around the fake silicone balls since the rest was so wet and covered in her cream. That fake dick was drenched in her essence. "Suck it off." She gave him a look to challenge his words but Erik gave her a much harder look that had her flinching and popping that dick in her mouth. He watched her suck it, her jaws all sunken in and the cream disappearing. "So that's what that mouth do?" She even licked the balls to catch the bit that spilled there. "How you fuck that pussy?" "With my legs wide open, from the back, and I rode it." "Shit, how you ride it? You did that shit on your tiptoes?" "Yeah, I stuck the suction on that chair right there." Erik looked over in the corner to find an acrylic glitter desk chair. "Bruce little girl is a freak," Erik laughs, "Bought to let her bodyguard hit." "I-you wanna fuck me?" She thought he wanted to fuck her with the dildo, the only dick her pussy really knew not his monstrous dick. "Only if you want me to." "Please." Fuck that dildo. Y/N tossed it back onto the bed, taking off her robe with the quickness. Erik raises both of his brows at that, loving how ready she is to take some dick. She stood before him, nude once again. A nice curvy body with smooth brown skin. Mouthwatering for sure. "Put on another video you like to watch, I wanna see." Y/N went to lay on her belly, ass up and bouncing for Erik to see. He removed his pants, his dick leaking with pre-cum and sticking to his leg. He watched her pull up a video of a sexy couple. The man was eating her pussy, slobbering on that shit. The loud munching sounds had Erik grunting and reaching out to smack Y/N's ass hard. She looked back at him, making her ass shake so he can do it again. Erik gave her what she wanted with his large calloused hands. He was definitely an experienced man for sure. "Get on your back, I'm eating that pussy." She flips over, opening her legs to show Erik all the creamy goodness that spilled from her. She was a goddamn mess down there. He got down between her legs, angling the laptop so he could watch it with her while he ate her pussy. As soon as the man in the video started sucking on his girl's clit, Erik did the same to Y/N. She was so overwhelmed by it that her thighs kept trying to close. Erik took her calves, thrusting them forward so that her toes touched the bed and her pussy and ass were open for him. He went to work on her little ass, his eyes looking from her to that screen. Whenever the guy in the video sucked, Erik sucked. Whenever he French kisses her all over the inside, Erik did too. She was so sloppy on his mouth. Erik was so happy to be eating pussy again that he didn't say a damn word. The only sounds he made were munching, smacking of lips, tongue flicking, and popping of his mouth off her clit and inner folds. Y/N was having a fit. She was trying to watch the action on the laptop but Erik kept pulling her away. He was devouring her slit. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore he had his fingers thrusting inside of her pussy while sucking on her clit. Three of those fingers. Her eyes rolled, head bobbing back and forth. She had no feeling in her legs left from how big she came on Erik's fingers and tongue. She trembled and trembled. But yet he was still going. "That's enough, Killmonger," she let out a sharp moan. "Stop!!" Before she could push his head away she was squirting. She covered his chest and the bed with all her mess. He pulled his fingers out before sucking on them with his long slippery tongue. Now, he was on his feet, kneeling on the bed. He had one hand around his dick while the other rested over his nuts. "Pull up a dick sucking video." "You do it." She tells him while still trying to recover from the atomic bomb head she just received. Erik leans over her, the smell of the soap he used on his skin surrounding her and causing her to kiss his neck. He didn't complain about that so she continued. Erik pulled up a favorite of his. One where the girl was talking into the camera, begging the nigga to cum on her face. This always had Erik busting a huge nut. "Bring your mouthy ass over here and suck my dick." He ordered. Y/N timidly grabs his dick, jerking it slowly to get a feel of the weight on him. This shit must drag when he walked. "I know it's a lot but you can take it." She kissed the tip of his dick before looking up at him to see if he liked it. "Keep going, I ain't tell you to stop." She wrapped her lips around the tip of his dick now. She sucked softly, little moans coming from her mouth at the same time. "You should see how that little mouth looking right now. You can't even fit me in there." She tried to challenge his words, lowering herself further down his dick. She could only make it to half the dick. Even that was too much for her. "It's okay...relax, ma. Take your time with it." She did her thing, tight pouty lips gliding over him all delicate. He was enjoying the soft way she sucked his pipe. Her spit bubbles around him dripping to her chest caused Erik to grab her curly bun. He started thrusting his hips, Y/N looking up at him with fearful eyes. "Relax, I got you, sweetie," she reached out to stop his hips from moving forward, "I promise I won't go too rough, I promise." She still held her hands on his hips but her mouth relaxed around Erik, allowing him to fuck her mouth at a pace she could tolerate. The sound of her spit building on her tongue and Erik's dick hitting her throat was music. She squeezed her eyes because he got a little too happy, her throat tightening around him. "FUCK, I ain't mean to I swear," He spoke in a hushed tone. He was so damn close to cumming in this girl's mouth. Her tight mouth. "Damn, your lips so tight." His eyes fluttered. She felt like the side of her lips would split in half from how thick he was becoming. She tried to open up wider but there was no use. Y/N breathed through her nose, allowing Erik to finish off. He was a challenge for her. "Shit-shit-take it, take all this dick!" The minute his cum hit her throat she gagged, Erik holding her in place so he could finish out within her mouth. He pulled out, his dick bouncing in her face and the last bits of his cum shooting onto her cheek. She looked so shocked at his action. Her fingers went up to scoop it up and into her mouth. "You are such a big girl. Did so well for Daddy." "You cum a lot, Killmonger." "You like that, don't you?" "Yes." Erik bit his lip, "get on your back, ima fuck the shit outta you." Y/N got onto her back but she didn't want it like that. She wanted him to fuck her from the back. She wanted to see how it felt taking his generous dick with her ass in the air. "What's wrong now Y/N," Erik spoke with annoyance. "I want you to fuck me from the back." "...see, I don't know if you can take it like that yet, ma. You'll feel me in your stomach if I do that." "So," Y/N turned around, arching her back, reaching behind her to pull her pussy lips apart. "Is it still too much?" She teased. This was how she imagined Erik would fuck her when he walked in. He might as well take her pussy like this. "Shit ain't too much for me, this dick gonna be too much for you. But since you such a hard-headed bitch Ima give you what you want." Erik fixes her arch. She thought she was positioned the right way. Nope, Erik needs her face and shoulders pressed into the bed with her ass angled all the way up to where Erik could have a deeper thrust. She looked back at him, nibbling on her fingers to calm herself. "You looking real nervous for a chick who ain't afraid." Erik beat his dick on her clit. "I'm not afraid." She spoke softly. Erik didn't have anything more to say to her. He grabs his dick, bringing it to her velvety hole and sinking it right in. He didn't give Y/N time to think. He was all the way inside of her. Erik got in her pussy in one clean motion. She had her eyes closed briefly before opening them to show Erik how watery they were. She thugged it out and Erik was impressed, for now. He was frozen, his dick still buried. "Y/N." "I'm good," she was ready. "Bet." Erik pulled out to the tip of his dick, his eyes watching the muscles in her back flex. She was spread wide for him. He thrust back in swiftly, his balls hitting her clit. That sensation had Y/N whispering something into the crease of her arm. Probably saying how good and thick his dick is. "Faster," she begged. Erik built up speed, her ass making that sound he loved whenever he fucked bitches from the back. She was clapping all over him. Y/N felt it in her belly. It was something she couldn't really feel with her dildo. "OhmyGod!" She screams. Her hands reached out in front of her to grab hold of the cum stained sheets, balling it up with her fists. Erik was beating the breaks off her pussy at this point. He would grunt and moan real low but Y/N could hear it. "Killmonger, you're stretching me!" He slowed down, before picking up the pace some more. The shit was amazing. She was wrapped around his dick perfectly. "You gonna make me bust early in this pussy, girl! look at this pussy, loving all this dick I'm giving her!" She likes that he referred to her pussy as "her" it made her attempt to throw it back on him but her hips were so weak. "OhmiiGod you're so big!" She cried. Erik gave Y/N a thunderous slap to her ass before grabbing her shoulders to pound into her some more. Her head fell forward, moans and groans stuck in her throat. "I got you arched over this dick, girl," she tried to move but Erik was right there with her, "Stop it, ma. You were doing so well. Daddy was proud of you for taking this dick." "It's just so deep." "I told you, didn't I? It's too late now I like fucking you like this." She was in his control. Y/N's pussy leaked so much on his dick she couldn't keep count. It was so sensitive to his long and fat dick. It's because he's so big and she's so tight. "Fuck, you're tearing my pussy up!" Erik pulls out, Y/N's juices following right behind him and onto the bed. She flips over, bringing her legs up for Erik to grab. "You don't waste no time," He says in a teasing manner. Erik takes her calves again, stretching them all the way back so her toes could touch the bed. "Such a nasty girl with this pussy spread open for me." His dick was inside of her again. She watched with pure bliss to the point of tears. He was doing push-ups in her pussy. Erik moves his hips in a circular motion creating a new sensation inside of her that had Y/N's toes curling. "Wet pussy, I fucking love it." "Yes!" She had her hands on Erik's hips, pulling him further inside of her like he wasn't already deep. "Shit," He looked down at her, "grab my nuts, squeeze them." She did, squeezing and massaging them. Erik was no more good. "Now you're squeezing my dick and nuts. Getting all of me tonight, huh?" "Fuck yeah." "You gonna let me cum all over this pussy?" "Yes, Daddy." "You gonna let me cum all over this good pussy?" "Yes, Daddy." "You fucking better!-shit, mmhmm Ima give you what you want, fuck, girl you got me cumming!" Erik shot thick ropes of cum onto Y/N's phat pussy lips. Y/N reached between them to stroke him, more cum shooting out and onto her belly. The feeling was too much. This girl was covered in his cum. Pussy looking like a cream pie. Y/N rubbed it between her folds before taking her fingers to suck on. "Can you stay the night with me?" She asked between sucking. Erik gave her a sly smile before shaking his head, "I don't think so, ma. I already fucked up coming in here. Thank God you disabled the surveillance in the house. I ain't tryna die because I fucked my boss's daughter." "Please?" "Only until you fall asleep." "Fine." Erik puts his pants on, watching Y/N get up from the bed to change her sheets. "Ima go check my phone to see if your dad tried to get in contact with me." "Okay," Y/N watched Erik leave the room and down the dark hall. She wanted to squeal, jump for joy, dance, anything to express her excitement. That was the most memorable sex she's ever had. It's sad that it had to be because of this sticky situation but she didn't regret it all. Now she didn't want her father to return home for a while. If she could get some dick from Killmonger she'd be more than happy. Fuck spending time with her friends, there was an entire estate for her and Erik to have fun in. She placed her sheets in a hamper before returning with fresh ones. Erik was back in her room now, closing the door. "I had a talk with your Father." Y/N's heart sank, Erik laughing at her expression. "You gotta learn to relax, Y/N. All he said was that his trip is gonna have to be extended another six days." "Six days?!" She closed her eyes, Erik laughing at her excitement. "Yeah, some shit about business running slower than usual. Plus, he had to off a few lousy men so he might come home short two henchmen." "So, what does that mean for you?" "That means I'm 2 million dollars richer." "You're still gonna watch over me?" Erik couldn't help but give Y/N his lady killer smile. She blushes, turning to put on her robe. "Yeah, you don't plan on telling Bruce that you don't like me as a bodyguard, right?" "I only said that because you didn't let me go out!" Y/N argued back. "But now you want me around," Erik licks his lips, "I gave you some dick now you want me to stay." He didn't have to put it like that but it was halfway true. Y/N wasn't going to say anything to Bruce about Killmonger. "Killmonger, you have good dick, okay? Now, stay the night with me, please?" She gave him her best pout and innocent eyes. "You are really gonna get me in trouble."

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites  @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney  @brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @bugngiz @palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo​ 

I’m really intrigued by Rayla’s moonshadow assassin peers. I especially am interested in Andromeda because I think she is the only other girl in the group? Do you have any headcanons in how these teen/young adult assassins interacted? Do you think Rayla isolated herself from them because she was always iffy about taking a life? Also TDP finally colored their map and I know you live maps, find any new cool stuff? I especially love how there’s a frozen sea north and a spinning sea south, imagine the powerful Magic’s that channeled to make them.

Okay, so I jumped straight to the map, did 80% of it, and wandered away for a few weeks. I apologize, anon. Let’s get this going again:

I’ve got a few headcanons on the Moonshadow assassins! It seems likely that they hang out mostly with each other, when they hang out, to reinforce their teambuilding and to give them some socialization, since assassins tend to keep others at arm’s length. So I kinda figure they tend to roam as a pack on their evenings out in the village, if they’re not married to a non-assassin like Runaan is.

I think that could be part of the reason that Rayla might not have hung out with the others as much, too: Runaan wanted to be either training or at home with Ethari, so Rayla probably spent a lot of time doing those things just because he did them. And when Runaan was doing more serious training or missions, that’s when Rayla had her free time to run around the forest and make adoraburr friends. 

Runaan could’ve probably insisted that she do something more assassiny with her free time. Shadow an assassin, do more studying, practice certain prescribed skills on her own. But he didn’t. He let her play. Soft assassin is soft!

Listen, anon, I have a fun headcanon for you about Andromeda--and by fun, I mean it’s really angsty half a second after you start thinking about it. Ready? 

What if: Andromeda is Runaan’s half-sister. If they’re both Lujanne’s children by different assassin dads who kept dying in battle, but a Moon mage needs an assassin leader partner to defend Xadia with, and Lujanne knew her son Runaan wasn’t old enough to lead yet, so she burned through three or more husbands protecting him until Runaan was well trained enough to lead the assassins himself and had fallen in love with a mage who adored him and would be his partner in her place.

 Andromeda looks a fair bit like Lujanne, too:

Along with Runaan, they all have long hair, side tails bound in silver cuffs, and some form of braids. Andromeda’s hair is sectioned in front similarly to Runaan’s. Her accent sounds more British than Scottish, though she only has the one line: My eyes for truth. And Lujanne and Andromeda are the only two Moonshadow elves we’ve met who have medium blue horns, while Runaan’s are dark blue. Almost everyone else’s horns have purple or pink as their base color.

But then, see, Andromeda went on Runaan’s mission, and she died. Her spirit was the most aggressive in TTM, usually closest to Rayla with her sword out, as if she hated Rayla the most. If she had a vested family interest in Runaan’s mission succeeding, and then it went pear-shaped because of Rayla, that would make sense.

No matter if she’s related to Runaan or not, she’s wearing horn cuffs, so she was in a dedicated relationship of some kind, and that’s so sad. Someone’s missing her the way Ethari’s missing Runaan. :’((((

Anyway, it’s just a headcanon, but since you asked, there ya go.

Okay, on to my thoughts on the map, of which I have a normal and healthy amount:

The Map Border: 

Everyone doodles in the borders. I love to see what they put there.

Starting in the upper left and going counter-clockwise, the five human crowns are cool

Cornucopia swirls center left look like an homage to Cabbage Man from ATLA

Bait is staring at Evenere. his home? Or maybe he just wants to eat the dragonfly on its logo

Human defender has a beard. Hairagorn. He's very heavily armored but has no helmet. Long hair is braided to rest on front of shoulder, like the blond elf in the painting at the Moon Nexus. Old timey hairstyle?

He’s defending Katolis Castle specifically. I wonder if the little white building is kinda random or if it’s supposed to represent the Banther Lodge. Nah, I have a better guess: that’s where Viren grew up

The crack in the map looks meta. It's been repaired somewhat. Makes me wonder if it's an in-world map, whose, who ripped it, and who fixed it. Sir Phineas Kurst seems like the kind of guy to almost shred his really cool map

The star behind Zym's egg has seven points

The two ships on the southern waters are western and eastern respectively. Tidebound elves from Singapore? Jack Sparrow would be proud

There is land just south of the Dragontail, wonder what’s there?

The leaves around the human figure are small and numerous while the Moonshadow elf has fewer but bigger leaves

The elf is standing in the way of one of the six leaves growing out of the rune rose and that leaf's curly tip seems to have been replaced with a curl of the elf's very long hair

The human pose is more offense and the elf pose is more defense. But the elf has two swords, and one has some wicked hooks in it.

Elf has 4 fingers instead of 3 so whether it’s in-universe or meta, they were drawn by a human :DDD

The elf's braid winds around their horn and I think that's clever

High collar shirt under protective layer, bracers and elbow gloves, bare biceps, complex shoulder getup, ornate hair that's butt long and partly braided, two long slightly curving swords... horn cuffs too. This is a Moonshadow assassin in the same gear Runaan's got, poised to defend the Xadian half of the map as the human is poised to defend his side

The rune rose isn't a compass. It has a two sided pointer and six primal runes. Just decorative I guess. ;)

More lettuces on right center.

Maybe a portaling caterpillar on the center knot? Little bug pal, I see you

“The Five Human Kingdoms” lettered in red, “Xadia” in blue. Giving me Stratego flashbacks. Even the flowers on their banners are color coded

Banners in the corners are similar but Xadia has more fluttery tips

Thunder drawn all attacky top center, does he have anything to do with the Frozen Sea being frozen?

Compass rose under Thunder’s wing

Dick island near the compass. Well, Duren is the breadbasket of the human lands. A most excellent cartography joke! 10/10 would chortle wholesomely again

The Human Kingdoms:

Neolandia

Capital Eboreus seems to be a lake city below a mountain and I'm here for all the Lake Town refs. 

It's also the eye of the elephant shape

Not a lot of trees, mostly grasses or desert. Only borders Duren across a couple rivers/estuaries/sea channels

Heart shaped island next to elephant trunk

Land generally broken into several sections by sea/rivers 

If it’s rivers, they seem to generate from the capital’s lake and flow in several directions. And they say there’s no magic left in the western lands! ;)

But if there was exactly one source of freshwater in a desert land, it makes sense that you’d find a way, magical or mechanical, to spread that lifegiving water in as many directions as possible so your people can thrive so kudos to Neolandia’s ancestors/Tidebound elves/whoever managed that, it’s brilliant

I can and will make up explanations for anything on a map. I adore worldbuilding

Del Bar

Two named locations. Since Del Bar’s national symbol is a serpent, I guess Serpentongue is the capital.

Hinterpeak is a sweet name. Looks like Helm's Deep with that retaining wall. What’s it for? Are there dwarves in this land? Is it an Earthblood stronghold? Maybe it’s like the Mines of Moria, and the Earthbloods were chased out and/or killed inside and now it’s full of nasty orcses but someone left a MacGuffin down there so *nudges hero* Off you pop.

Nice forests around the southern mountain range but northern DB is more arid or grassy lands like Neolandia. 

Considering that crops grow well in Duren, which is farther north, I assume there is a massive meteorological gyre over the human lands, with a southern wind blowing down over the western realms and keeping them icy until the mountains of Hinterpeak block and divert them, protecting Evenere. The winds don't blow eastward without warming right up-- and causing thunderstorms in Katolis how about that-- because there is a warmer side to the gyre over Katolis and Duren, blowing tropical warmth and moisture north and providing rain for trees and crops alike. Most years, anyway.

How does the weather fail in Duren for seven years in a row, anyway? That seems like a Thunder issue. Unless it’s a Sunforge issue, which I’ll get to below.

Ahem.

Borders Neolandia, Duren, and Katolis across rivers, but most border is coastline.

Serpentongue probably got its name from the two river heads around it

Cluster of dead little cracks spawns a single river. Looks like someone cracked the tub and it drained away. I wonder how much of this landscape has been affected by the Mage Wars. Big watery basins have flooded and other spots seem dead. The lands may or may not actually touch depending on how deep some of these waterways are

Evenere

Looks like someone punched holes in the land with a giant pencil to make it a separate island. Broken outline with scattered islands

That Pawprint Isles has only four toes

Moon-shaped island is very crescenty indeed

Are these isles home to refugees or outcasts from Xadia? Listen, I want pirates and that sea looks pretty Caribbean to me

No capital city, hmmm what's that about? Is it underground, does it move? Maybe Fareeda’s capital is on the back of a world turtle and she’s constantly on tour around the island?

That arm of land ending in a peace sign, please can we get surfers

The hills emanating from that claw shaped headland look like something is sleeping under the island, hello yes I am here for giant immortal creatures please

Katolis

its capital is also called Katolis, the only human realm to use the same name twice

Weeping Bay could be a ref to the tears the humans shed after they reached the west. Or the Moonshadow elves as they left their forest for the east. Or both. Both, in this case, is bad but balanced

Boomerang island next to the Dragontail

The river the Dragaang rode on was going uphill

The watery slash in the land between Katolis and Del Bar is awfully straight. So is the one between Del Bar and Neolandia. I call magical warfare.

Katolis has a bunch of mountains in the east, part of an old natural border before the lava one appeared

Mt Kalik is probably volcanic. It's a standalone mountain and it's really tall. Rex Ignius maybe? Oh, probably not, I think I see him peeking on the other side of the map

The trees of Duren and Katolis are different then the western lands. Softer green, deciduous. And the land itself is yellower, warmer in tone

Forests centered on Mt Kalik

The Moon Nexus looks like an eye on a dragon head near the Dragontail, and Evenere looks like a severed wing (Yes I am still wondering where Luna Tenebris went, why do you ask)

Weeping Bay looks like the most natural body of water in the western lands

Three red little trees scattered around the Katolis map. Fruit trees? How very Moonshadow.

Duren

The only land border among all the human kingdoms is between Duren and Katolis. Maybe it used to be further south along the river?

Capital is Berylgarten, set on a lake. Beryl is a stone that’s usually green, blue, or yellow in color, very gardeny

Second smallest realm but the breadbasket of the human lands. Has several little forests and great tilled fields

Being a farmer in Duren is probably as awesome as being an assassin in the Moonshadow Forest; you do what you do for all your friendly kingdoms

Northernmost land is cold and craggy, named Skall's Hook along the sea

Third ship in the Frozen Sea is icebound and crushed. Looks western, indicating no possible passage

Lots of colored trees and shrubs as if fruitbearing, I keep comparing Duren to the Yakima Valley in Washington State

Where the lava reaches the Frozen Sea, it melts the ice next to Duren's mountains

Northern Xadia:

Lux Aurea

Most of the center lands of this map has warm tones for its ground. Maybe that’s because of the long reach of the warmth and light of Lux Aurea’s Sun Nexus, and only the lands that are just too far from it are truly cold and icy. It would explain why Duren is a breadbasket realm so far north--it’s just across the border from Lux Aurea.

If there’s anything to that, then I suddenly worry for the fate of all the human lands now that the Sunforge has gone dark. It’s early summer now in Xadia, and crops in Duren will be ripening soon... Unless the sun’s magic was helping them grow. This coming winter could be rough. Next winter, people will die. Unless they can purify the Sunforge again.

Also, I have to wonder if Duren’s seven years of famine had anything to do with Sunforge shenanigans. They’d have happened at Khessa’s command, and we know she despises humans. If she was responsible for all the struggles that humans had to go through without enough food for seven years, and then their desperate attempt to fix the problem by invading Xadia for a Magma Titan’s heart which extended and exacerbated the war, I can see why Aaravos might feel Queen Khessa deserved to die

The city’s shaped kinda like an Egyptian pectoral necklace on this map, and that’s super pretty and not at all ominous

Also that’s a lot of gold for a whole city and I wonder how they got it all

The Shiverglades and the Shards

These areas are north of Lux Aurea and seem cold but not very icy, even though the Frozen Sea is right there. More thoughtful glances at the Sunforge over this one. Is it warming the land, or not warming the sea? Both?

Shiverglades is a play on Everglades, so this is a cold swamp, which sounds super fun I’m sure. Permafrost, tundra maybe?

The Shards seem to be rock islands with ice mountains. Glaciers are cool. 

I wonder if something broke those islands off on purpose. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy worldbuilding? Yeah, well, I like world-wrecking, too.

Storm Spire

Has a good view on everything that happens for miles, including Lux Aurea, the Midnight Desert, the Shiverglades, the Black Tundra, the Uncharted Forest, and Drakewood. 

Defensible position, no other tall mountains nearby

Also able to alert others to danger, especially since Avizandum could teleport like lightning

The Midnight Desert

It’s pretty big! And it looks like it’s littered with ruins of columns and dead palm trees. Like something else used to be in that great space and then something Very Bad happened to it. Maybe there was one great city where all the elves could mix together, and then it got utterly obliterated and the elves all fled to their respective safe places around Xadia. A city of black stone, back when Aaravos wore a crown? Now pulverized to dust and surrounded by not one, not two, but three primal nexuses? Hmmm...

All the wisps could be heat from the sand, or spooky spirit hints, or just an ominous sign of danger from the snakes below, but the overall effect is that the land is unhealthy if not cursed

The oasis is marked, and it must contain a spring since it runs a river out to join the river that passes through the Moonshadow Forest

Also the actual oasis kinda resembles a blue lizard which is adorable and probably also terrifying

Moonshadow Forest

The Silvergrove is the only village marked in the forest, so in keeping with the other lands and general map legend rules, it’s likely the capital/central village for the Moonshadow elves

The village is marked by four round-roofed homes between two tall leafy trees that shelter and hide them. It’s a hybrid balance between the blocky manmade castles of the human lands and the actual forest around them, showing a blending with nature that even the Sunfire city of Lux Aurea did not embrace, with all its golden buildings

It’s a good-sized forest, and it kinda stretches thin to the east but there it tentatively connects to the Drakewood Forest

Moonstone Path to the west just chilling in the lava like a blank alignment chart. Moonstone Path is Chaotic Hot.

Southern Xadia:

Ruins of Elarion

Elarion is a city, and it’s been lost to the humans for a thousand years

The building outlines are squared-off towers like the more modern castles in the west, suggesting that humans in Xadia built for strength and defense as soon as they could. They felt vulnerable and created protections in their architecture. The three elven cities we see also play to their strengths, but those strengths include magic. Elarion’s humans had to find a different strength, and they went with craftsmanship and ingenuity

It seems to be the only human city from before the border was drawn

“Ruins” doesn’t necessarily mean no one lives there at all, but it’s been emptied of humans and no one else has maintained it since

It had a great position on a vast lake, with sheltering hills and easy sea access

Sea of the Castout

This inland sea has five inlets and outlets. It’s hard to be sure which is which with some of them, with the way the water is drawn on this map. But I’m kinda liking the idea that all the water swirlies are places where Tidebound magic has been placed over the millennia, so the water can do whatever it needs to do depending on circumstances. That goes for the human lands, too. Katolis backward river, you’re off the hook.

With a name like "Castout,” I wonder if it was some kind of universal toilet to flush away things you didn’t want--including humans--who might wash up near Elarion and start to build there. Yeesh.

The rivers that flow into this sea pass through or near the Moonshadow Forest, the Midnight Desert, the Storm Spire, Drakewood, and the Uncharted Forest. That’s a lot of drainage.

It’s pretty far from the Tidebound Archipelago, so maybe its name is referencing Tidebound elves who have left their home colony

Was this always a sea, or did something that Xadia wanted to forget get flooded and hidden in the depths?

The land around it seems open and hospitable. It could be a good place to build/rebuild in a time of peace.

The Far Reaches

Open grassland with low hills

Two of the hills look like giant boot prints

Several colorful trees which I hope are fruit trees

Bounded by two rivers from the Sea of the Castout

Looks homey tbh, great spot to retire to get away from everything if there were a war that really shook you up

Ocean Point

There’s a Star rune here, and it could mean many things

The closest other marked location is Elarion

If this was where Aaravos lived of his own free will, I can see why he’d take a shine to the humans. They were his neighbors.

If he is imprisoned here, it’s literally the furthest point in Xadia from the other elven realms, with the Moonshadow Forest being the closest one and Umber Tor not too much further but in a totally different direction. If they were trying to isolate him physically with a portable mirror to watch over him, that’s a good spot for it

Possible location that the cube is leading Callum toward? Portal to the Star Touch home plane? Aaravos’s seaside B&B? Trap street?

Eastern Xadia:

Drakewood

Umber Tor looks to be the tallest mountain in all of Xadia, save possibly for the Storm Spire. It’s more traditionally mountainy, with a nice snowcap. Since it’s labeled, I’m guessing it’s the Earth Nexus, under which an Earth Archdragon sleeps

Also there’s a giant yellowish-brown dragon chilling next to the Tor. Yeah, he seems nice. Rex Igneous, I presume?

Or maybe not, since the neighboring forest is called Drakewood. Maybe this woods is just where a bunch of Earth dragons hang out? Ezran and Pyrrah flew off and returned with a crew of Sun dragons from somewhere, so dragons must have communities too

The mountains that edge the sea are shaped roughly like a stone dragon in flight

Drakewood seems to be the forest closest to Umber Tor, with both deciduous and evergreen trees, though there’s a huge swath of wooded land here, to the north and to the southwest. I wonder what the locals consider the border where the Drakewood becomes the Uncharted Forest and why. The way the evergreens are drawn almost looks like a border, a sort of kingswood set aside for a specific use. Rex Igneous’s best toothpicks?

Uncharted Forest

Okay this is a properly magical name, very mysterious. But uncharted by whom? People with charts? This might be a Sir Phineas Kurst name, which is outsidery, and it makes me wonder if the locals/neighbors have their own name for it, which the human explorer never learned, a la “Thunder” for Avizandum

Maybe “Uncharted Forest” just means no one ever turned those trees into charts though, old growth ftw

If no one lives here, will someone move here? If someone lives here, who are they? Earthblood elves? Moonshadow elves? Humans? This mystery, it calls to me

the trees are mostly deciduous and fill basically all of this whole section of land, up against the mountains and the rivers, so it seems very fertile land indeed

Earthblood elves could live here, but there is no city marked. Maybe because we haven’t gotten that far in the show, or maybe that’s the wrong sort of descriptor for how the Earthbloods live and organize. Maybe the whole forest is their city, like Pando, the interconnected quaking aspen clone forest

The northernmost part of this forest lies right between the Storm Spire and the Tidebound Archipelago, so it might get a regular flyover route for migration or messages

Yes, this forest is the most interesting place in Xadia to me, I desperately want to learn more about it

Black Tundra

Yeah this place isn’t ominous

Similar to the Shiverglades, but where that has shrubbery, the Black Tundra has single dead trees and creepy curving spikes. Scorched? Poisoned? De-magicked?

The water north of this area isn’t frozen, and with a lake to the south and a river and a moderate mountain range, the whole area looks like it would otherwise be decently habitable, but instead it’s cold and black

Is climate change a thing here, or will we get a nice horrible disaster instead?

Tidebound Archipelago

These islands have dotted lines around them, like they’re submerged at high tide, or maybe made of shifting sand that literally moves around like sand dunes across a desert, or perhaps they’re exactly at sea level with half their civilization in the air and half underwater or in cool bubbles, or maybe the islands actually float

Maybe the Tidebound elves even sank them on purpose for defensive purposes

The archipelago is about even latitudinally with the Storm Spire Lux Aurea, Berylgarten, and Eboreus so they probably get pretty nice weather

There’s no ice in sight here in any direction along Xadia’s east coast, so presumably the prevailing current is a warm one

do they have bridges connecting the islands? Ferries, animals who give them a lift across?

the islands have quite a bit of space on them. I wonder if there’s a big population, maybe a shifting population? Do Tidebound elves migrate up and down the coast like gray whales and return to the islands for certain holidays or social events?

This is probably the hub of the Tidebound elves’ culture, but the sea surrounds the whole land and infiltrates it with many rivers and lakes. The Spinning Sea and the Frozen Sea are pretty firm Do Not Enter signposts, but a determined Tidebound could get around either one if they wanted to

What I’m not seeing here is a city. Either it’s not been marked yet, or that’s not a thing that Tidebound elves have in their culture. If they don’t have a city, they’re possibly migratory in family groups, or maybe they stick to small villages like the Moonshadows do, but with even less central leadership

I-Island Vacation: Act 2 Preview

Fifteen minutes had to have at least past when the door to the entrance opened. Izuku Midoriya rushed into the waiting area, dressed in suit and sweat pricing his brow. He was out of breath.

“Sorry about… that you… guys,” he said quickly, drawing in as much air as he could. Did he run all the way here? He stared at the group before him. “Uh. Where is everybody?”

“They’re not here yet,” Weiss explained. “We set up a meeting time so we could all head in together on time. Did that mean nothing to you?” Midoriya turned a bit red. Weiss sighed.

“Sorry, Senpai—!” Midoriya’s apology was cut off as the security system’s sensors activated. As if on cue, Ochako, Yaoyorozu and Jirou arrived at the tower as well, Ochako well ahead of the other two girls. Much like her friends, she was wearing a pink formal dress and had her hair pinne out of her face. It had a flower pin.

“Sorry I’m late!” said Ochako quickly. “It took me a while to get ready.” From behind her entered Yaoyorozu and Jirou, each stylishly dressed in formal wear to suit their elegant and punk tastes respectively. Ruby had to peer around Yaoyorozu to get a better look at Jirou, though. Was… Was she hiding? 

“Apologies for the tardiness,” said Yaoyorozu, with Jirou ust about stuck to her arm. “Jirou’s feeling shy.”

“If it makes you feel better, so is Blake,” said Yang, gesturing to the cat-eared girl next to her. irou peered around from Yaoyorozu.Upon spotting Blake, she blushed a little before finally emerging from behind her friend. Jirou tugged on the cropped leather jacket she was wearing.

“This is fancier than anything I’ve ever worn…” she said. “It feels like a costume.”

“I’m just glad you’re not in a t-shirt,” said Kaminari.Ruby winced as Jirou jammed one of her ear jacks into his ear, making him screech in pain. 

“Shut up.”

“Why would you do that?!” Kaminari rubbed at his ear the moment Jirou withdrew her jack. “It was a compliment…”

“No it wasn’t.” The blush on Jirou’s face had only grown deeper. As if sensing the younger’s discomfort, Blake put a hand on her shoulder, causing Jirou to sigh. Ruby, meanwhile, turned to Midoriya and Ochako.

“Lookin’ cute, Ochako!” she told the zero gravity girl. It was true. The dress Ochako was wearing really suited her. She looked positively adorable.

“Thanks,” said Ochako, a bit of pink dusting her cheeks. “This is my first time in formal wear… I had to borrow something from Yaoyorozu…” Even so.

“It…” Midoriya cleared his throat, his face flushed red, “looks really good. Like. Perfect.”

Ochako only grew more flustered at that compliment. “Oh, Deku, stop! You don’t have to flatter me so much!”

The door then opened again, and Ruby felt her heart jump into her throat. In ran Melissa, who let out a sigh upon spotting teh hero course students waiting for her. She looked so… so different than before. Her long hair had been swept up in a high ponytail, and her bangs held back with a red headband. Her dress was strapless, with the upper half a dark blue and the knee-length skirt a pale shade of the same color. Hershoes were heels, like the rest of hte girls’ seemed to be, but they were white and strapless — a lot like Weiss’s.

She was just... 

“Oh good!” Melissa said as she entered the room. Was it always this hard to look her in the eye? Ruby didn’t have trouble with this before! “I thought I was going to miss you guys!”

“Uh,” Ruby tried to fight back a bit of pink that decided to appear on her face, “M-Melissa!”

The smile Melissa gave her did not make things any better. “Hey. Sorry if I kept you guys waiting.”

“Not at all,” said Weiss with a sigh, most likely relieved.

“Let’s get downstairs to the party.”

“Yeah! Let’s good!” Ruby said with a nod. There was a beat. “I mean good!” She groaned. “Go! Let. Us. Go!” A nervous chuckle escaped her lips. Yang leaned forward on her sister’s shoulder as Ruby’s face went flush with embarrassment.

“Aw, does Ruby have a little crush?” she said, pinching her sister’s cheek.

“Shut up… She’s just cute.” Yang only giggled. Didn’t matter. They were all here and now they could--! Ruby looked around. Wait a sec-- “Huh? Um… hey, where are Kirishima and Bakugo?”

“Are they not here yet?” Midorya asked. Ruby nodded, pushing Yang away.

“I tried to get in contact with them earlier, but they wouldn’t pick up,” Iida explained. “I can try again, but I don’t have Bakugo’s own contact information. Only way I can get in touch with him is through the class’s group chat.”

Right… and it didn’t seem fair to contact him through that. Iida only used it for classroom announcements anyway. That’s why he made it.

“I can handle Kacchan…” Midoriya pulled out his phone, quickly dialling Bakugo’s number. Iida did the same, but for Kirishima. “Though I doubt he’ll pick up.” There were several beats, the entire group silent as their phones played only dial tone for what felt like a straight minute. In the end, Midoriya let out a sigh and hung up. “That’s what I thought.”

“What about Kirishima?” Ruby asked. If Bakugo Isn't picking up, then surely Kirishima would—

“He’s still not answering,” Iida sighed. Okay, nevermind. “You might be right with your earlier thoughts. They're just blowing off the party.”

“It doesn't matter,” said Melissa. “I’m sure they’re just having a bit of fun in their own way.” Yang snickered upon hearing that. Blake sharply elbowed her, giving her a look. Ruby blinked. Wait, what was Yang laughing about?

“Kacchan Isn't the biggest on parties…” mused Midoriya aloud.

“That’s what I said!” Ruby told him. She was getting pretty good at understanding Bakugo lately. Midoriya chuckled at his friend’s little excitement over that.

“Let’s get going!” said Ochako, bouncing on her heels as she turned towards the elevator. “Fancy tuna, here I come!” The group began to make their way towards the elevator, with the older girls chuckling at Ochako’s enthusiasm. Kaminari leaned over to Todoroki.

“Do you really think there will be fancy tuna there?” he asked. Todoroki only shrugged.

“Most likely,” he replied. However, before the kids could even press the elevator’s button, the tower’s PA system crackled to life.

“This is an announcement from the I-Island Security System,” said a robotic, feminine-sounding voice over the speaker. The kids all stopped. The security system? “We have received a report that an explosive device was discovered somewhere on the I-Expo grounds. I-Island will now be in high alert mode. Your safety is our top priority. Residents and tourists should return to their lodgings at this time. If you cannot, please find the nearest building. Anyone remaining on the street after ten minutes will be in violation of the law. Please clear out public areas. As a precautionary measure…” Everyone jumped as shutters came down over the moors and the windows, sealing them inside the tower. “...most of the main island buildings will now be sealed off. I repeat. We have received a report…”

Everyone was quiet as the message repeated. What was…?! This couldn’t be happening…!

“That ain’t good,” commented Yang, breaking the silence.

The full act will be up on Ao3 on January 16!

170 - To the Family and Friends

Love the winner, hate the win. Welcome to Night Vale.

I start today with sad news. I must inform you of the passing of Intern Victor. To the friends and family of Intern Victor, we extend our condolences. Oh, that reminds me. Our intern program has a new open spot available. Hours are flexible, as is time itself. You must be fluent in at least three languages, although one of those can be your own dream language, and another can be a future language that doesn’t yet exist. This is an entry level position. All applicants must have 30 years experience in the field of community radio, and have been the managing director of at least 2 radio stations, or equivalent unregistered stations broadcasting coded messages to our brave spies in the field. This is a non-paying position, but we do give you 4 credits to the institutions of your choice. Please apply in person by groveling before the Station Management door and crying: “Choose me! Choose me!” as their tendrils draw you slowly toward them. I look forward to meeting whoever is hired. Always so fun when we get a new intern.

And now for a look at the day’s news. The Night Vale Medical Association has ordered a review of the management of Night Vale Asylum, after a number of irregularities have cropped up involving a transdimensional missing plane and a pilot who could control people’s thoughts. “Honestly, we had a lot of cases like that back in the 60’s,” said Lonnie Chapman, chairman of the Medical Association. “Mental institutions used to be cruel places, where the fragile rift between dimensions was regularly breached and telekinetic powers were exploited. And people were treated as less than people, for the simple crime of having an illness that could not be found in the blood or the bile.” Lonnie settled back into the sagging comfort of his old arm chair, sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We endeavour to help, not to other,” he whispered. “It should be common sense, this kindness. Why is kindness not common sense?” He said this last so quietly that no one heard him. Dust motes circled tirelessly in the afternoon sun through the window. The Night Vale Medical Association is looking to shut down the outdated asylum and replace it with a brand new state of the art treatment center, located near Grove Park. More on this story as the story has more to it.

I guess I should get into a little more detail about how Intern Victor died, since some of you might be curious. You know, I think the story starts back in my very first days as host of this radio station. After the previous host, Leonard Burton, after – umm… ehhhh.. Once I took over as host of this radio station, Victor was one of my first interns. Eager and earnest and always helpful. He was first in the station in the morning and last one out at night. His research was impeccable. 

“That’s not true,” he would say every time I said something that wasn’t true. “That’s not true either,” he would say. He would say stuff like that a lot. He was very diligent. It kind of felt like we were starting this great adventure in radio broadcasting together. I thought that some day after I… after… ehhhhh.. ummm… once I was no longer host of this radio station, perhaps Victor would be the one to take over. “Some day, Victor,” I would murmur in the quietest hours of the night shift, “Some day maybe you will be where I am now.” “Maybe, Cecil,” he would say back into the intercom from the producer’s booth, “But for now, please stop murmuring that into the mic. We’re live right now. Then one day he told me he was leaving. That he appreciated all the time he had spent as an intern, that he had learned a lot, but that he felt his place in the world was not with radio after all. [sputters] “Not with radio?!” I sputtered. I simply did not understand the concept. “If there is not community radio, then what is there? What is there besides that? Will someone tell me what else there is?” “Thank you for our time together,” he said gently, and then he left. It would be the last time I saw him for many years.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s sponsor is White Claw’s new line of non-alcoholic alcoholic Seltzer beverages. Listen, everyone loves a good carbonated beverage. On a hot day, out at the beach, or not at the beach, the two places it is possible to be. It’s great to just pop one of those bad boys open and really let that water with bubbles rip on your gullet. But not everyone likes to drink alcohol, for a variety of reasons that are never ever your business. Just don’t ask or bring it up. It’s so easy to not do that. That’s why White Claw is proud to announce the newest version of our alcoholic Seltzer beverage, now without alcohol! It’s everything you loved about Seltzer water, but for the first time, you don’t have to get intoxicated. Flavors include blackberry, wild nettle, wet stone, and one we’re just calling “Tumbleweed Crush”. Even we aren’t completely clear on what that one tastes like, but hey, it’s water and it’ll make you burp without making you drunk. White Claw’s new line of non-alcoholic alcoholic Seltzer beverages. Available wherever you buy your alcoholic Seltzer beverages. This has been a word from our sponsors.

I didn’t finish with the story of how Intern Victor died, I guess. Ummm, let me quickly wrap that up. So, a few years after he left, he came back again. He was older than me now with salt and pepper hair and a stiffness to his walk. When he had left, he had been several years younger than me, but time changes us all, I suppose. “Cecil! I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” he said. I bristled at this, hearing a perceived implication that I should have gone on to something larger, that by staying put I had allowed him to be pull ahead of me in some intangible way. So I responded with manic friendliness to compensate. “Still here!” I shouted. “Great to see ya, buddy wo-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-how! What have you been up to?” He told me that he had left Night Vale, gotten an apartment just outside of somewhere called Fresno, that it was difficult at first, and that he felt lonely much of the time. But that he had slowly made friends, so many friends, and had found a job that became a career that became part of his life. He worked with teenagers who were going through a tough time, seeing them through to better times. He was very well liked for what he did, and he was very good at it. “But I’ve decided to retire,” he said. “I’m getting up in the years, you know? But wow, you don’t look like you’ve aged a day.” “I haven’t,” I said. He was so much older than me then. I wondered where the years had gone and what I might have accomplished, if I had aged as well. He had retired to Night Vale to be with his family and friends and the people who knew and loved him best, and relax into the soft years of his latter life. So that… wait. Well, that’s not how he died, but I have to get to this next report. I’ll finish it in a second.

And now traffic. There was a song once sung by sailors of an island in the west, where the sun would shine forever and not a minute less. They say that on that island a sailor could find their rest, finally let slip shut their eyelids on that island in the west. But I’ve been searching, and been searching all my life, as though some cruel test, and have never found my way to that island in the west. There was a song once sung by sailors and I believed it, I confess. A foul lie I still believe in, my sweet island in the west. This has been traffic.

Intern Victor lived in Night Vale for many years more. He was active in charities and volunteer groups, continuing to offer counseling to students at the local high school. He lived in the Hefty Sycamore Trailer Park, watering a garden of flowers that he kept in pots around his trailer. It seemed that Victor was even more busy in retirement than he had been in his long career. Returning to his community seemed to invigorate him. He helped Carlos with experiments at the labs, donning goggles and lab coats and writing down numbers with hearts around them, all of that science stuff. Carlos said he was surprisingly good at it for someone without training. He worked with Dana at City Hall, creating the No More Pit initiative, which strove to keep one teen a year from entering that pit on Clement Street and disappearing forever. Now, the initiative was unsuccessful and the pit continues to devour but they, it was the attempt that matters. He acted as a volunteer lifeguard at the Waterfront Recreation Area, at which he saved a record five people in one day from drowning! A truly astounding record when you consider that there is no water at the Waterfront Recreation Area, Night Vale having an entirely arid climate.

Yes, Intern Victor was accomplished and well liked. He would have made a fine host at this radio station some day, but he never showed much interest, which is a pity. Because after I… After, well… Who will take up that mantle? Not Victor, not anymore. Well, I guess I still haven’t told the story of how he died.

Uh, let me do that just After the weather. 

[A List for Spring” by Joseph Fink https://josephfink.bandcamp.com/]

Victor was in bed. The curatin over the window shifted slightly in the breeze, so the sun flickered in the room, shadow and bright, like a message from the world outside that he would never live to understand. His breath felt like a finite quantity, slowly drawn out of his chest. He knew that the last of it was coming soon. He wanted to use the drags of his breath for words that would sum up his life, but he couldn’t think of any. He could only think of “I am tired”. He could only think of “Thank you for being here.” He could only think of “I wish I had more time”, although eh didn’t know what he would have done with that time if he had any. 

Around his bed were the people who had known him throughout his life. There was his sister Carly, and his brother Herman, and his aunt Ronnie, ancient and brittle but apparently destined to outlive him. There was his friend from college, Norm, whose hands shook as he looked into Victor’s eyes. There was former mayor Dana and her brother, leaning into each other in sorrow, keeping each other upright as a family creature of grief. There was Carlos in an understated lab coat, frowning. There was nothing more scientific than death, and yet Carlos hated the fact of it. And he wrestled with the contradiction within himself. Some natural processes feel unnatural, no matter how many times they occur to us, they are a surprise that our whole life spends telegraphing.

In the corner was Rosario, one of the teenagers Victor had worked with back in Fresno, who had eventually moved to Night Vale after getting lost in the shelves of a strange antique shop and waking up in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. She was middle-aged now, her face glistened with tears. “Everything I am is because of you,” she said. Victor snorted. “Don’t blame me,” he said with one of those last precious breaths. And she grinned despite herself. “You were the first person that cared about who I was,” she said. “I’ll never forget you.” “Already I’m in past tense,” he said, but he grabbed her hand and clasped it in a fervent silent thank you. Because she was testament that he had been useful, and there was nothing more important in a human life than to be useful to other people.

I was there too, and I stepped forward. “You were the best intern I ever had,” I said. “I know,” he said, and he winked.

It can be… strange when we first meet someone when they are young and just started out, and are in the entry positions in the career they want, to realize they have the potential for an entire life. Victor ended up a great man. A man with deep roots in the community. A man who went from 10 years younger than me to several decades older than me. And I… well, I still think of him as an intern, and I suppose I always will, but his potential was realized upon the lives of everyone in that room, and many other lives still.

A strong breeze came through the window and the flickering of light increased, as though that incoherent messenger was getting more frantic to be understood. Victor knew that his finite breaths had reached their last few. And he did not use them to say anything at all. He smiled, and met each of our eyes, and then… And then after…

To the family and friends of Intern Victor. To the family. To our families, blood or chosen. They are the net on which we can fall again and again. To the friends, to our friends. The people who make life worth living. Who help us when we need help. Who we help when we need to help.

Intern Victor was a good intern. He was a good person. He is gone. We are here. Let’s make ourselves useful. To all families. To all friends.

Stay tuned next for a tall glass of water greedily, drunk by a person who did not realize they were thirsty until the liquid hit their lips.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Earth is technically a sandwich, where the upper bread is stars and the lower bread is stars and the filling is rock and lava and a few incidental humans.