The Beach Episode (Poly Love and Deepspace fanart)
The Beach Sketch
The Sanctuary Men [Xavier] [Zayne] [Rafayel] [Sylus] [Caleb]
Bloodborne Xavier
Sukuna
Caleb Bad Ending
Sylus and Echo
Drabbles and One shots
Kinktober 2025
LADs Men and Hair
Touch
"I Know Him." - [Zayne x Reader, Caleb x Reader, drabble about them in childhood]
"At First Sight" - [Sylus x Reader, when Sylus sees his love again for the first time]
A sneak peek? - [A drabble that goes alongside "Cleaning Up the Timeline]
Exploration with Rafayel - [Pegging Rafayel x Reader]
"Quote the Raven..." - [Vampire!Sylus X Reader]
"A Familiar Taste" - [Resident Evil AU - Sylus x Reader]
Headcanons
My MCs & their LADs Man
Kinks I Associate with the LADS Men
What Cars would the LADS Men Drive?
Sylus Headcanons
Top or Bottom?
Long Fics
Cleaning up the Timeline [Archive of Our Own]
Cleaning up the Timeline Master List (Completed)
Tidy Timelines (Sequel to Cleaning up the Timeline)
1. Ebb Day
2. Tightening Lids
3. Ebb Day Recovery
4. A New Addition
5. Beach Banner
6. Late
7. Anxiety
8. A Spring Event
9. Special Training
10. A Legal Connection
11. Missing Link
12. Empty Nest
The Sanctuary (Fantasy Prequel to Cleaning up the Timeline)
Orphans
Zayne
Protégé
The Heart-Shaped Pool
Rafayel
Bonds
Xavier
Lessons
Dragon Mating for Dummies - [ Dragon!Sylus x Reader ]
Chap 1: Greetings
Chap 2: Spark
Chap 3: Attraction
Early on in the relationship Sylus is trying to not be as clingy as he wants to be. Like dragon instinct plus the fact he remembers everything and now they are officially together???
Mans is struggling to keep his hands to himself. Not even sexually. Just like he needs to remind himself ur there so he always needs to touch u
At first it’s just little things. Brushing against u when there is clearly enough room. Pulling u close whenever u look like ur leaning toward him. Hugging u just slightly longer than expected.
Eventually u figure out his love language is very touchy (and lets be honest he thrives on all the other languages as well) and tell him he doesn’t have to wait for u to instigate cuddles or being close.
This was a mistake (no it’s not). This man is the definition of clingy. And he straight up melts into you whenever he gets the chance.
Big scary leader of Onychinus? No. That’s ur personal human shaped blanket heater.
I have said it before on many occasions but it's worth reminding people that Sylus is a WHORE. And I love it.
He gives major fuck you in the bathroom on the first date before dessert arrives energy.
Think about it.
In his vampire myth, this man was ten seconds in from meeting MC and had every single intention to kill her and he STILL made out with her. Zero memory who she is, ready to impale her to death after bleeding her dry and has the audacity to be like “hold on, give me a kiss real quick,” LMAO!
In his dragon myth when MC was sneaking him, and she started acting like she was trying to fuck cause she feels bored did you see the look on his face? He was down!
I'm convinced if it wasn't for her hating his guts on sight in main story, because despite that she does admit he is hot as fuck so I KNOW he would have taken her amnesia having ass to base and slutted her out regardless. All she had to do was say when.
Nobody can tell me otherwise.
Sylus is easy. And I love that about him.
Fake sleeping so he can get handcuffed to his bed wearing nothing but a silk robe.
Just stamp the words “Fuck me whenever” on your forehead Onychinus leader cause we all see you're about that life.
I’m thinking about the lads polycule with a baby….
Whose baby? It doesn’t matter. It’s all their baby, and that little bundle of pudge would have attributes from all of them.
Xavier would be the best at staying up with the baby. He’s the sleepyhead yes, but he’s got the stamina to stay awake for days, pacing slowly back and forth. and swaying to keep the baby calm. Until, eventually, he falls asleep on the couch with the baby cuddled securely on his chest.
Zayne is so sweet. He loves to gently pet the baby’s black hair (even blondes are born with black hair sometimes) and he’d coo about how the baby looks like him. Even if there’s other evidence he’s not biologically related — like red eyes, or little scales — it’s like he somehow believes love alone has mingled his dna in there.
Rafayel is obsessed with the baby’s hands. Letting their tiny fingers curl around one of his. He gets lost in staring at their chubby rolls and stubby little toes. When the baby starts smiling and laughing, he nibbles at their hands until they’re full belly laughing.
Sylus is the type to do things + a baby. He has a meeting? Sylus is in the meeting, plus the baby. He has someone to intimidate. He’s intimidating, plus the baby. He’s discussing arms imports and protocore moderations with scary underground netizens, with a tiny sleeping baby in his arms. He’s a big believer in baby wearing, and secretly hates the crib. Because where else should the baby sleep if not in his arms?
Caleb is an emotional wreck at first. He doesn’t trust himself to hold the baby very much, and when he does he’s careful to barely touch the baby with his right arm. When that anxiety of a new baby wears off, Caleb just likes to talk to them. He likes to share stories of the parents and how they met, if you and him as kids. How much the baby looks like you. He’s taking a thousand pictures every second that he can until his phone storage is full.
Satoru Gojo isn’t used to feeling. His infinity makes him impervious, and it takes conscious effort to turn it off now. Which means that even the slightest physical touch is something he has to focus to receive.
Let’s say you have a cursed technique that lets you pause time. It’s not really useful against curses, because the bubble you create is small — barely big enough to cover your bedroom. But you use it one evening when you convince Gojo to come over for dinner.
It’s manipulation, yes, but how bad does exhaustion have to get when even his blindfold doesn’t hide it anymore? You’re worried about him, because the world rests on his shoulders… and that’s hardly fair.
So he comes over, lured by the promise of a homemade dessert and cheap takeout. And, when normally a house guest would be excusing themselves, you instead start your master plan.
Gentle lighting. A few warm toned lamps, and a diffuser with lavender oil that glows a soft blue. Gojo raises an eyebrow at you as you turn the television from the stand up comedian you had been watching to a livestream of sea-turtles. You give him some lame excuse for each slight change until you see how smug the white haired man looks.
“What?” You ask. Nothing good happens when Gojo looks like that. You worry for the structural integrity of your apartment building.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” He asks, sounding horribly pleased. With a tilt of his head, his soft, snowy hair shifts with him.
You sputter at the accusation and feel a hot blush rise from your chest up to your ears, “No! I— That’s not— No!”
Gojo laughs, but it sounds tired more than anything, “You brought out the sea turtles, what else am I supposed to think?”
“Sleep!” You scoff, picking up one of the pillows you stashed and throwing it at his head, only for it to be caught by his infinity and slide away. “You need to sleep. I was going— gah, you know what? Nevermind.”
“Aw, princess, you’re so cute. We can sleep together, I knew we would eventually. It was inevitable.”
“You’re the worst.” You roll your eyes, and despite the irritation in your tone, you still pull out the other pillows and blankets and set them next to him on the couch. “You’re like a toddler that needs a nap.”
Gojo sits up a little, seemingly getting it through his pretty head that you’re not trying to fuck him, and…. “What are you doing then?”
The honesty in his voice surprises you, and your frustration fades.
“You haven’t slept in days.” You state, because anyone with eyes can see he’s being run ragged. Maybe it’s his hero complex, or maybe it’s masochism, but Gojo isn’t taking care of himself. So, you’ll do it for him. “I can keep my bubble up for the night. Let you sleep, and then you can go home and no time will have passed at all.”
“Oh,” He sounds genuinely surprised, and frozen in his spot. You continue your work, because while you don’t stand in a chance in a fight against him, you’ll be damned if you let him leave now.
Gojo lets you move make a comfy nest on your plush couch. Plenty of pillows and blankets, and a glass of peppermint tea.
Your bubble of frozen time feels a bit like moving through water, but Gojo adapts quickly. Getting him to drop his infinity is a little more of a challenge, but eventually he relents and he slowly, slowly relaxes.
Sleeping Gojo is just as obnoxious as awake Gojo. Snoring, drooling, dead weight. But it’s music to your ears.
The Rêve is setting sail with a new crew member eager to prove himself, a stowaway hiding below deck, and the secrets she uncovered a little too late. Following them closely is a tailed creature so captivatingly beautiful and impossibly strong he has to be a figment of her imagination, right? Caleb seems to think so, but you know that’s not the case. You know Rafayel…
⋆˚࿔ Pirate!Caleb x Merman!Rafayel x Reader
⋆˚࿔ Read on ao3 ll Word count: 5.2k
⋆˚࿔ Fantasy au, angst with a happy ending, mild violence, attempted sexual assault (not by LI), forced nudity, walking the plank, jealousy, soul bonds, eventual smut, eventual polyamory
The soothing sway of a ship at sea, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of saltwater and sunshine, and a view stretched to the horizon where the sun drowns in the deep blue of endless treasure – except, real life was nothing like what you envisioned…
A great storm has just descended upon the rickety old vessel you will call home for the foreseeable future. Any memory of gentle breezes long forgotten in the waves that hold such force your head has been thrust against the interior walls of the ship more times than you can count. If only you could ask Caleb to kiss it better, like he always did.
Too bad he has no idea you snuck onto the ship that was supposed to take him away from you indefinitely. Too bad he’s running around on deck in some futile attempt at saving the sails from the relentless weather. Too bad he’ll probably hate you for being on this damn boat in the first place. But he needs you, just like you need him.
Wood creaks and bends causing deep, threatening rumbles from both the ship and the sky to reverberate in the hollow space around you. It’s cold, damp and dark this far below deck and there’s no way for you to escape the puddle you’re sitting in. You’re completely soaked, courtesy of the leaking ship spewing seawater down upon you from the endless number of unsealed cracks in the hull.
The one thing that brought you comfort, despite the unfortunate situation you had put yourself in, was that you knew Rafayel was nearby. The warmth spreading through your chest reminds you of his close proximity. If it comes down to it, he’ll save both you and Caleb from the monstrous waves.
When Rafayel shared the rumors he had heard floating around, you immediately ran to find Caleb. The journey from your home to the harbour was not that long, but long enough to make you arrive late in the evening when the ship was already prepared for departure. Caleb was nowhere to be found, and even if you did find him, having that conversation with him aboard the ship was far too risky.
There was no way Caleb knew what he had signed up for by joining the crew of this ship. If he was aware of their secret plotting he would never have signed that contract, right? You chose to assume that he was unaware, which left him vulnerable and an easy target should they need to tie up loose ends. If only you had made it to the docks in time to talk to him before they were due to set sail, all this could have been avoided.
The Rêve was set to ‘explore’ the deep sea, to chart out and draw up new maps of the vast open waters. Whispers among the more senior crew members alluded to far more sinister intentions – intentions that hit a bit too close to home for your tailed friend.
You can feel him right now, as if he’s reaching for you through the ship. You can practically hear his voice humming a lulling melody in an attempt to calm your racing heart.
‘Raf, I’m scared. I shouldn’t have done this, it was foolish. But I couldn’t let Caleb go alone, I just couldn’t!’
Your mind races with the knowledge of the potential cruelties Caleb has signed up to take part in. Rafayel's broken expression when he spoke about the Rêve's secret mission is permanently etched into your brain. Silent and controlled anger.
The humming grows louder as if he’s inviting you to join him. With clapping teeth and a shivering voice, you stutter out the same melody he is chanting so beautifully.
Thunder relentlessly pounds, your clothes are soaking wet and you’re freezing, but that pain is quickly drowned out by the sound of Rafayel’s voice and the warmth of him being nearby. The rest of the world blurs as your mind and body grows fuzzy and numb. And with his unyielding comfort, your tired body succumbs to sleep at last.
“Pipsqueak? What the hell are you doing here!” Caleb’s familiar voice carries a rare sense of anger in his urgent whisper that has never been directed at you before.
His large body bends awkwardly over yours, shielding you from anything but him as his hands clamp down firmly on your shoulders, shaking you awake. Wide eyed and brows furrowed in a confused mix of terror and anger.
“I-I… Ehh…” you stutter, mostly because you have no idea how to best approach the topic but also because you’re freezing cold.
“You can’t be here. Why, why, why are you here? Do you have any idea what these guys do to stowaways? Do you have any idea what they’ll do to…” he pauses for a moment as his eyes flicker down your curled up body covered in wet clothes. Your scared eyes meet his equally terrified ones after he has finished the initial evaluation of your appearance. “…Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you?” He doesn’t even want to think about that, even alluding to it makes him want to scream.
“I…” you sigh, shamefully. “… I just couldn’t let you go, Caleb. We’re family, we always have been.”
“Me taking on this job wouldn’t change that, pips. What’s really botherin’ you?”
“Do you… do you know what sort of exploration mission you’ve signed up for?”
His lips part slightly and his eyes flicker between you and the stairs leading to the upper decks. With a heavy sigh his gaze drops to your lap where your fingers twitch restlessly.
“I don’t know the details, but I’ve gathered that we might be doin’ more than just explore and draw maps…”
“Did you suspect anything before you boarded the ship? Before you left, you told me to trust you.”
“I thought the captain seemed shady, but I needed employment, so…” His eyes find yours again. “Wait… How do you know anything?”
“Rafayel heard some of the crew discussing the true purpose of this mission at the harbor the day you were to set sail,” you answer truthfully.
Caleb shakes his head and lets out an annoyed puff of air. You know why he’s annoyed, he always gets like this when you talk about Rafayel.
“You’re still on that? Pips, you’re an adult. How are you still trusting your imaginary friend over me?”
“He’s not imaginary, I’ve tried to tell you that for years!” Caleb’s hand flies up to cover your mouth.
Murmurs and grumbles can be heard from above along with wood creaking under heavy boots signaling someone is on the move. He urges your body lower onto the floor behind a crate.
The damp air is thick and suffocating, far too heavy for satisfactory breathing — so, you don’t. As soon as the first weighty step lands on top of the staircase, your lungs cease their already strained movements.
Caleb shuffles around a bit, making it look like he’s still attempting to complete the task that sent him down here in the first place. Out of the corner of his eye, he still sees you. The tip of a boot peeking out from behind your wooden shield reminding him that the only thing he values in his life has left herself exposed to unknown evils.
“There ya are, lil whelp. How’s she holdin’ up after the storm?” The unfavorable nickname does not pass by unnoticed, yet it’s the man’s choice of pronouns that catch both yours and Caleb’s attention.
You both know the man is referring to the ship, but for a split second it feels like he’s talking about you. Every muscle in your body is tense to the point of being painful. The ache spreads like poison from each frozen joint and seeps deep into your muscles. You have had to draw breath at this point, but the pungent alcoholic stench, courtesy of this new arrival, made you long for stronger lungs — or perhaps, lungs that surpassed those of a feeble human.
“She’s strong. The hull seems intact. Other than the damage to the starboard railings, she’s in shipshape,” Caleb declares and gives the ship a few gentle pats with his hand. In the other he’s now holding a hammer.
A humble tool, a necessity in any carpenter's toolkit. It could also be a deadly weapon if wielded correctly. Caleb is certain he can take down his superior if it comes to it. Taking down the entire rest of the crew might be a slightly bigger task.
“Good, see to it that the railin’ is fixed quickly. Wouldn’t want any of those fuck nuggets on deck turnin’ into shark bait, eh?” The boatswain chuckles grimly. “After all, sharks ain’t what we’re here for.”
“What are we here for exactly?” Caleb drags the words, adding a nonchalant flair to the burning question.
The boatswain chuckles again, walking his heavy boots closer to Caleb’s withdrawn figure. Each step elicits a hollow sound from the deep mixed with ominous creaks of stiff leather, creating a medley of obvious ill intent.
“Ah, but why would you need to know that, pup? I suggest you stick to your hammers and nails and let us old seadogs handle the big fish, savvy?”
Out of the corner of your eye you can make out their subtle movements in the shadows. The boatswain doesn’t seem to be any physically larger than Caleb, but it is clear that the ship's hierarchy has been invoked and promptly honored by the lower ranking man.
“Aye,” Caleb’s voice rumbles, frustrated by a lack of conviction due to his inferior status.
The other man chuckles victoriously before taking determined steps away from Caleb and back up the stairs. Distant murmurs from the crew are almost completely drowned out by the crashing waves and patter of rain on the upper deck.
“Seems like the storm isn’t quite done with us yet. Better hold on tight, pipsqueak.” His voice is firm, bordering on commanding. Without even glancing in your direction he takes his tools and makes for the stairs.
“Wait! What about me?” You pitifully call out.
He ponders for a moment too long as a deafening silence leadened with unfinished business settles between you.
“Well, pips. You dug your own grave, now it’s up to me to make sure you don’t fall into it.”
Caleb leaves you to marinate in disappointment and shame as your mind begins preparing for the very real possibility of your voyage ending in the belly of a shark.
‘Does that make me the fuck nugget? What even is a fuck nugget?’
Right as you’re about to slip into thoughts darker than the depths of the ocean itself, that warm presence you crave so profoundly returns to fill the empty crater in your chest.
You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt before Rafayel inadvertently became the piece you didn’t know you were missing. The devouring emptiness caused by Caleb’s absence became slightly less threatening with Rafayel’s soul offering companionship from beyond your floating prison. He made you complete, but so did Caleb. They each own a piece of your heart and right now there is a Caleb shaped bruise blooming that even Rafayel will not be able to soothe.
‘I wish I could see you, Raf. Caleb’s mad at me, which I do understand to an extent but, surely he must understand my reasons for coming, right?’
He can’t hear your thoughts, even if it feels like he can sometimes. Your emotions however, those he’s able to sniff out from great distances. Particularly those big, scary ones that always has you craving his warm embrace. That embrace is just out of reach, so he offers you the next best thing which rains down upon you in the form of his voice humming one of those beautiful melodies that leave you drunk on his comfort.
No matter how upset Caleb is with you for the choices you made, he can never abandon you or let you suffer the consequences if he can help lessen them. So, every day he brings you scraps of food and water, he procured an extra blanket to help keep you warm, and he’d given you one of his linen shirts so you’d have dry clothes.
Time passes without your knowledge. A few slivers of daylight make their way through the small gaps in the hull but on gloomier days it is barely noticeable. If not for Caleb, you would probably have gone mad.
You begin worrying for Rafayel too. He’s been tracking the ship since you left the harbour, his stubbornness no doubt fueling each kick of his tail. Surely even he would need to rest at some point?
A loud rumble awakens you from your sleep. At first you assume it’s thunder, yet another storm to make this hell even worse. But then, you see a body slumped at the bottom of the staircase you’re currently hiding under.
Caleb.
A myriad of heavy boots stomp down the stairs toward Caleb’s body as you cower in the corner. He’s not unconscious, carefully tilting his chin up at the rest of the crew as they descend. Purple eyes find yours in the dim light, but only for a moment before they are back on the burly men.
“So, pup. Where are you hiding the extra food, eh?” You recognize the voice of the boatswain from a few days ago. Or has it been a week?
“I haven’t hidden it. I ate it. I know I shouldn’t have, but I’m not used to so little food.”
He’s lying. They don’t know you’re here. As long as you remain hidden, there’s still a chance.
“And the blanket that we suddenly can’t find? Did you eat that too, whelp?” Another voice asks, raspy and hoarse. No doubt a heavy smoker.
“I, ah. I don’t know anything about the blanket.” He’s doing his best to remain somewhat calm, but you know him too well to believe it.
The boatswain yanks Caleb up by the collar of his shirt and thrusts him against the hull. A panicked gasp is muffled by your own hand as the back of his head meets wood.
Most of the crew is watching the handling of their newest member, but a few wander, inspecting the space diligently. Acting out orders no doubt. Caleb quickly glances in your direction again when one of the men starts getting dangerously close. You’re trapped. And you’ve trapped Caleb too.
“I, I think I might have used a blanket to carry some materials the other day!” He suddenly exclaims, stuttering and unconvincing.
“Ah!” You shriek as a cold, calloused hand grips your bare ankle pulling you across the splintered flooring. The only thing you’re wearing is your boots, Caleb’s linen shirt and your underwear, leaving much of your body exposed to scrape against wood. It also leaves you exposed to the haunting gazes of the crew.
“No!” Caleb screams as he attempts to push the boatswain away. Although he succeeded in his task, other members soon have him pinned in place.
“Well, well, well. This one is very pretty. How rude of you not to share, pup.” The boatswain makes his way over to your trembling body, now held tight with your arms behind your back by the man who found you.
“Shut up,” you and Caleb simultaneously hiss at the disgusting comment.
A shrill laugh erupts from the man, soon accompanied by the rest of the crew.
“Get the Captain, I have a feeling he’s gonna like this.”
Then you’re dragged away. You do your best to stop the movement by hooking the tip of your boot against every step of the staircase until someone seizes control of your legs too.
You thrash and kick against their firm grips, no doubt bruising your limbs. They thought they could handle the prey they caught – you’d do your best to prove them wrong. Being outnumbered and physically inferior doesn't matter. Each touch from their unpleasant hands meant to subdue and weaken only makes you stronger, angrier. Eager for revenge in the form of your escape and their demise.
The fire in your chest burns for more than just yourself. It burns for Caleb and Rafayel too, and their anger and fear further fuels your determination. Someone’s hand slips sending one of your kicks straight into their abdomen. The man tumbles backwards in a similar way to how Caleb did a short while ago.
With him out of the way, you can see Caleb again. He’s in a similar position to you; pinned down and thrashing against the men who surround him. Caleb is strong as hell, you know this. But you also know that right now he’s distracted by the thought of what might happen to you. A glint of dulled silver catches the light from above deck; a dagger. One of the men that hold you carries one of similar size to Rafayel’s. The one he’s been teaching you how to wield. If you can get your hands on it, you might have a chance.
The sun blinds you. Weeks in the dark has left your eyes rather sensitive and the bright light burns. There’s ruckus going on behind you and you can only assume they’ve started dragging Caleb up the stairs too. Your loose linen shirt flows in the breeze, and for a moment you allow yourself to take a deep breath. The first taste of fresh air in far too long. Your knees get pushed down onto the deck, freeing your legs of their dirty hands. Your arms remain locked behind you. The dagger is right there, hanging off the belt of the guy to your left.
“She hasn’t done anything, let her go!” Caleb pleads, maintaining a threatening tone despite his fears.
“That’s not up to you to decide.” A new voice emerges from behind you; the captain you presume.
Caleb is forced to his knees a few meters away from you. Clearly they have less faith in you fighting back than him, as his hands are instantly tied to the mast. He looks angry, until his eyes find yours and he instantly softens. He shouldn’t let them see, he should pretend not to care. Although he’d never admit it, you know you’re his weakness.
“Ohh, what do we have here? Did you bring your lil bitch for us to play with, whelp?” The captain crouches down to meet you face to face, so close that you can smell his rotting teeth.
“Touch her and you’re dead,” Caleb hisses. Any sense of fear washed away by anger and the need to protect.
The captain simply laughs, and the rest of the crew follow suit. The sound of their vile chuckles along with the chilled sea breeze has your body erupting in goosebumps.
Whilst the captain has his back turned, you take the chance to get the dagger. You turn to your left and bite the guy's hand, hard. He responds by slapping you across the face with such force that you slip out of the hold that had you restrained. You can hear Caleb whimper at the sight, but you don’t let it affect you. This is the only chance you’ve got. While the crew are still busy laughing at your hunched form you lunge and grab the dagger, quickly slicing the owner’s arm when he tries to take it back.
With a skillful flick of your wrist you spin the dagger around in your hand, just like Rafayel does when he wants to impress you. You would have preferred a second dagger so both your hands were armed, but beggars can’t be choosers.
Caleb looks horrified, still fighting against the rope which has him tied to the mast.
“Oh, she wants to play, how cute,” the captain says, smiling at you in a way that has you shivering again.
He draws his sword. You’ve never fought against a sword before.
“Pips…” Caleb’s voice breaks. You glance at him with a look that hopefully tells him to hold it together – to trust you.
“Pips, huh? I can get used to that. Suits a sweet little bitch such as yer self,” he says, all condescending and cocky. The captain looks you up and down as if he already owns you. Then, he lunges.
The move is quick, surprisingly so considering how haggard he looks. You dodge easily. Rafayel always said you looked clumsy when sparring with him, but that the clumsiness didn’t hinder your efficiency. He’d even mentioned how you could probably use it to your advantage, to trick your opponent into thinking you were struggling. When the captain lunges again, you purposefully let yourself fall backwards before instantly pushing forward to swipe at his thigh. It’s not a deep cut, but enough to make him hurt.
Lunge, dodge, attack. The altercation drags on, without a clear end in sight. You’re not tired, like he is. But your little dagger is proving to be a slight disadvantage against his sword.
Caleb is struggling. The skin on his wrists is red, raw and bloody from the continued battle to free himself from the rope. Occasionally he’ll catch some of the crew snickering at him, enjoying seeing their little pup suffer. They are nothing but blurry figures and mumbles, his only focus is on you and the captain. You’re doing well. Had the circumstances been different, he’d be proud of your skills. Then he’d interrogate you on who taught you to fight like that, because it was not he who taught you this skill. Now, all he feels is fear and anger. He feels powerless.
“What are ye hoping to get outta this, lil wench? Did you think you could just tag along and no one would bother you or your lapdog over there?”
You can’t tell him why you boarded the ship. You can’t tell him that you know they’re doing something illegal. That would make you a loose end that they’d need to tie up. They’d probably kill you. They’d probably kill Caleb too…
You stay quiet and opt for attempting another attack. The captain’s long sword blocks the dagger, catching at the cross-guard, grazing your finger in the process.
The dagger falls to the floor next to the captain's feet, the thud of metal against wood echoes in your mind as you realize you have been left completely defenceless. He slowly bends down, keeping his eyes fixed on you, and smiles once the dagger rests in his hand.
“No!” Caleb shouts angrily. Sweat trickles down his forehead and neck, wetting his shirt that clings to his muscles as they fight the restraints. “Leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything!”
“Ahh, but we’re having so much fun, right pips?” Hearing the nickname from someone other than Caleb makes you sick – hearing it from the captain makes you furious.
Adrenaline pumps through your veins, threatening to make you reckless and irrational. But what options do you have left? If not for the fact that Caleb is watching and also in danger, you’d have jumped ship. Instead, you allow instinct to take over. Catching the captain of guard when his focus momentarily shifts to Caleb, you plant your fist against his jaw with as much force as you can manage. He stumbles backwards for a moment, but before you have time to hit him again, your arms are locked behind you. The large, burly boatswain has you trapped in his grasp.
“Alright, I think I’ve had enough fun with you,” the captain snarls and stomps in your direction. You refuse to show fear, leaving only anger visible on your face. He scrutinizes you for a moment longer, flaring his nostrils in disgust, before turning to address Caleb. “Who’s she to you?”
When Caleb doesn’t respond, the man next to him slaps his cheek. Hard enough to leave an angry red imprint on his fair skin. Caleb remains quiet, meeting the captain’s hard exterior with a cold stare.
“Cousin?” The captain questions, taking a moment to see if anything stirs in the man's purple gaze. “Friend? Sister?” Caleb remains steady, barely even blinking as the captain continues the interrogation. “A lover then? Or, perhaps, a simple whore. Paid to deliver you pleasure and make you feel less lonely.”
The repulsive accusation has you and Caleb seething, and the captain unfortunately notices. “Ha, must be getting closer then, eh? Does she let you touch her? Have you pushed your tiny cock inside her? Bet it was nice and warm, eh?”
Caleb looks like he’s about to bite the captain's head off. If you were standing closer, you would have probably done so already. The crew hums around you, finding humor in your misery.
“Shut up!” You shout, eager for the interrogation to end. “We’re friends. We grew up together.”
“Haha!” The captain erupts in laughter, and the rest of the crew quickly join in before the captain has even had time to let them in on whatever he found so amusing. His eyes move between the two of you for a moment before finally landing on Caleb again. “Then I’m assuming your cock is still dry, right pup? Wouldn’t wanna defile your sweet childhood friend, eh?”
For the first time since the captain started asking questions, you see it — Caleb’s facade is showing cracks. His gaze drops to the floor for a moment, then to you, and back to the captain. There’s no time to ponder over his reaction, your heart is beating faster than you can keep up with and your breathing is getting erratic. Panic is creeping in.
You don’t know how you’re going to get you both out of this.
“Well, yer lucky I take pity on you, pup,” the captain says as he saunters back over to you. “I’ll let you look at her, no touching, but you’ll get to look,” he stops right in front of you, close enough to let you smell his horrid breath again, “and then, the bitch walks the plank.”
The crew roars in excitement whilst you and Caleb thrash wildly against your restraints. You swear you can hear the wooden mast Caleb is tied to creak with his forceful movements. With a sudden jolt, you toss your head back, hitting the boatswain in the throat. The crew are on you in an instant, grabbing at your bare skin and tugging at your shirt as they try to restrain you again.
“Enough!” The captain declares with a voice that carries above all the ruckus. You don’t stop trying to break free until you see it; Caleb, still tied up and panting heavily, and the captain hovering over him with a gun to his head.
“No,” you whisper, “no, no, no…”
“Ready to cooperate now?” He asks, giving the gun to the boatswain who has finally regained his breath. The man instantly crouches down next to Caleb and takes hold of his chin with dirty fingers. The captain’s attention is back on you now, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Caleb and the gun that kisses his cheek.
“I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t kill him,” you whimper. Weak and pathetic, you think, chiding yourself for giving in.
“Pips, don’t –” Caleb starts before the boatswain cuts him off by pressing the barrel firmly against his cheek.
“I won’t kill him. I meant what I said before, I don’t waste time on lies – I’ll let him look, and then you’re walking the plank. I’m sure the sharks would love a taste of your blood,” the captain says, swiping a grimy finger against the cut on your cheek.
He lets that same finger trail down your cheek, down your throat, across your collarbones, before landing on the string that ties the collar of your shirt. He unties the simple knot in one quick motion and lets the tip of the dagger he took from you scrape across the now bare skin of your chest.
“You ready, whelp?” The words are meant for Caleb, but his attention remains on you.
You lock eyes with Caleb, seeking comfort in those familiar purple eyes, a comfort he is unable to provide you in this moment. His eyes are drowning in dread and terror as he is forced to watch whatever the captain has in store for you. He’d rather die than witness such horror, but he can’t leave you alone. So he does his best to stay still and not give the boatswain any reason to pull the trigger. You do the same.
The captain grabs the open collar of your shirt and lets the dagger slice the fabric down to your ribs. This time, he doesn’t let it graze your skin. His smile is predatory and cruel. Clearly pleased with revealing such a treasure to himself, his crew, and Caleb. The captain hums as the cold breeze touches your bare breasts. If not for the distant gulls and gentle waves you could have heard a pin drop.
Caleb keeps his gaze locked on yours, doing his best to offer comfort. He doesn’t look at your chest, not once. You don’t need more prying eyes violating your body, he doesn’t want to let his be amongst them.
“What do you think, whelp? Did you imagine them bigger, smaller, or just like this?”
Once again, Caleb chooses to remain silent. This time, the boatswain isn’t willing to dish out options. “Speak!” He demands, tightening his grip on Caleb’s chin.
“I haven’t –” Caleb is cut off yet again, this time by another crew member kicking his ribs.
“Don’t lie,” the man spits, readying another kick in case the demand still isn’t met.
“I… They’re p-perfect,” he stutters, letting his eyes leave yours for a moment as shame overtakes him.
The captain chuckles, thankfully satisfied with Caleb’s confession. “I must agree with him, pips. A shame really to deliver you to the sharks. But, like I said, I don’t waste time on lies.” With a heavy sigh, the captain takes one last look at you before he orders the men restraining you to guide you to the side of the ship.
Once your back is turned and you’ve taken the first step onto the plank that has been laid out to deliver you to your doom, you hear Caleb making one final attempt to plead for your life.
“Wait, wait, please. Let me go with her!” He begs, any remanence of his unbreakable facade long gone at this point.
You try to turn around to look at him one final time but you're instantly hindered when someone kicks the plank you’re walking on causing it to wobble and you to momentarily lose your balance. Once you’ve steadied yourself, you defiantly turn to face him anyways.
“It’s ok, Caleb. I’ll be fine,” you smile as tears slowly trickle down your cheeks.
“Pips, I…” You’re too far away to hear him over the waves crashing below, but you can see his lips move.
“I love you too,” you whisper.
You barely have time to register what’s happening when the Captain suddenly snatches the gun out of the boatswain’s hand and stomps over to you.
“Stop wasting my time,” he says grimly and fires the gun at your feet.
With a screech you stumble backwards into the depths. The last thing you hear before the water claims you is the sound of Caleb’s voice crying out your name.
AN: This has been sitting in my drafts, completed, since September. I just never posted it because I got stuck on the plot for the next chapters. But, I've got some great friends who have been very supportive and it's thanks to them that I'm feeling brave enough to post. It'll be multi chapter, but not that many. I've got a vague idea for three chapters right now, but I think there will be a couple more after that. Hope you liked it, and stay tuned for more! Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!
Fanfic idea: Mc sucks at expressing her emotions at times due to childhood loneliness (except for yaknow Zayne and Caleb and self isolation so she makes things for the Li’s to try and show her love
It’s me I’m Mc
This is Unhealthy. Really. @veebeeboo109 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
