#this is to torment me specifically i swear to gods
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watching a youtube video and the background music is tchaikovsky's 1812 overture
#this is to torment me specifically i swear to gods#if they leave in the cannons i won't#i just won't
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This is so fucking funny man it isnt even subtext at this point. Same episode too.
#KILL YOUR FATHER. BECOME YOUR FATHER. MARRY YOUR MOTHER. SOMETHING SOMETHING.#I swear to god every time i bother to rewatch st with the rosegate lens on i discover even more horrors. crazy.#rosegate#why would they do this. just to torment me?#specifically? me???#mike wheeler#ted wheeler#boysdontcryboycry get over here im losing it#the open closet in the first scene. the grid bag on the top shelf#the same area mike got the teddy bear for el in s3 in the open closet scene??? lol. lmao even.
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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)
length: 14.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression
a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍
taglist: at the end
san
pov: you run away with san and the cromer
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent
you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave
“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”
your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”
“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”
you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument
only to find that he’s not there
he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot
even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face
approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”
at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours
he looks terrified
san is lost in a distorted warp of visions
he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing
but there is blood
there’s so much blood
it’s everywhere
you’re there
it’s your blood
there’s someone screaming; raw with despair
he’s screaming
the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying
you’re going to die
“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw
and san has to stop you from dying
his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings
he looks around with increasing franticness
he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew
water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell
all his senses scream the same thing to him
it’s just like when you died
his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”
your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him
there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly
you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead
when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours
and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave
the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it
your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch
he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby
your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier
you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew
instead, you give his hand a squeeze
san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt
his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze
he’s mouthing something, you realise
do you trust me?
you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance
with my life
the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”
you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder
the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead
you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening
there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing
the cromer
as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet
quietly, he helps you up to your feet
the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response
you trust san with your life
so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today
and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch
you both make a run for it
when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun
san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”
together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave
few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand
you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight
“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”
he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it
the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery
only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on
you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different
it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you
you turn to look at him
“san, what exactly is going on?”
he’s quiet
he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?
letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”
you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before
“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”
he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”
“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his
you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips
“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”
when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes
“why did you bring the cromer?”
if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you
but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take
taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions
san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”
“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”
he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you
“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”
without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”
“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”
at his words, you soften
because san didn’t just see you die
he lived through seeing you die
you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms
“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”
san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”
you shake your head with your own watery smile
“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”
“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck
you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”
“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”
he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too
except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks
hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest
“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his
he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince
it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm
the glow of the cromer pulses
“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head
he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you
“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips
there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together
your world goes white
the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest
san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt
and your hand…
there’s no cut
your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm
san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him
“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet
“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug
the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer
in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt
you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention
you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon
“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”
you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again
with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass
somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier
when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further
he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”
that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels
neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold
only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies
because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life
at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble
san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own
you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible
lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap
you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut
“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”
san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his
the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin
goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you
“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”
his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in
because if it really is the same cut, then that means-
san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain
your world turns black.
there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness
you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you
you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes
“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”
his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice
“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”
you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”
san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you
you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head
you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter
a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound
that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold
you’re in a cell
the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls
damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know
you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark
they squat in front of your bars
the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two
“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious
at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers
the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”
almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth
“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out
daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”
he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars
“now give it to me,” he demands
san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer
he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand
as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it
except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion
you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement
the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move
but so do you
this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body
the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do
from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest
san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow
but there is so much blood
it’s everywhere
the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying
and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought
did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?
or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?
the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything
“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s
he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”
your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”
“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”
he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”
through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw
“s-san, don’t do it”
he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand
the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground
you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”
san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”
he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek
it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open
maybe you can rest…just for a little bit
san will forgive you, right?
you close your eyes
just for a little while
just until the pain stops
faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm
but it’s far away
far away
far
san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish
you cannot die
you will not die
he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body
and then his world goes white.
mingi
pov: you're the crew's surgeon
you have all the time in the world to yourself
the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies
hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates
it’ll take about a week to arrive
and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties
which is a good thing, really
but it also means that you have a lot of time
and time is your worst enemy
time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths
you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on
you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood
because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it
step one, rinse the area with clean water
step two, disinfect the wound
step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin
step four, suture as required for nastier injuries
step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten
there’s a procedure and it makes sense
but when it’s invisible, what do you do?
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself
the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin
it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate
you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist
and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice
it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain
that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-
only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you
“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head
you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued
with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you
he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant
“can you carve me another dolphin?”
months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair
most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one
you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable
“i already made you one,” you start
but he protests, “i lost him!”
you blink
nevermind. maybe not so valuable
“...you lost it?”
you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void
“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”
you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes
“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent
he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand
“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”
mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use
“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it
you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away
you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t
he stays and asks you question after question about the carving
which part are you working on now?
how do you shape the tail?
what was the first thing you tried to carve?
if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?
and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening
…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat
it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts
and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock
he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures
he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin
but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden
mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow
he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side
what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side
and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals
but that’s tomorrow
for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore
because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers
you don’t have another bad day that week
technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad
but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor
of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured
you’re not even sad
you’re just…hollow
and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way
being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town
their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you
instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern
you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals
it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either
“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”
you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction
“lookout duties,” you simply say
but mingi calls your bluff
“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”
when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet
“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”
he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason
when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself
he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”
“since when did you like seafood?”
“always?”
mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide
he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side
almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual
you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area
when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster
“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh
you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew
he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself
and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate
…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you
“eat,” he encourages
mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you
but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite
it tastes good
shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning
by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating
mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite
the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you
and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky
because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands
the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked
the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean
you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind
your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side
no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you
you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do
it’s hard for you to talk today
but he already knows that
“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you
without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk
“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”
he has told you this story before
more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised
mingi knows he’s told you this story before
but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind
(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)
you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story
you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds
except you can’t
it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth
and mingi knows
but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen
and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you
some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way
because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay
after all…mingi’s been there before, too
the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume
the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol
someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around
the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs
where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay
and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music
his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful
mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved
he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover
you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment
and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day
because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them
maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you
when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love
not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no
but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved
there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt
but you have mingi and he is making one for you
it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy
and even if it takes forever?
well
mingi’s got a huge fucking heart
and it’s all yours
wooyoung
pov: you find a stowaway on your ship
“we’re headed off course again”
“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows
yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”
you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point
a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands
so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself
but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it
not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea
“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck
although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously
“you trust that person?”
yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”
well
considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him
yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”
you close your eyes and exhale
admittedly, yunho has a point
and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck
you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck
“stowaway”
yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof
said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness
the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back
but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free
the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps
you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''
despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin
“of course, captain!”
you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him
but he’s not giving it to you
you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder
seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”
you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman
“keep me updated on the ship’s course”
yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway
“and thanks…wooyoung.”
you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you
because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him
except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it
it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass
his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route
honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling
at least that’s what you tell yourself
you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar
wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board
you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients
also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud
and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack
he attacks your heart with his cooking
granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef
he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire
mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight
the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together
you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising
“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”
wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle
realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up
there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”
“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument
but it’s him who comes to your defence
“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists
then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you
you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck
…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything
you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile
you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants
and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation
wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now
when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake
“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”
hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”
you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away
“what about you?” you end up offering
wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”
to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response
the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together
you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen
your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing
the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale
“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow
you note the use of past tense
“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively
he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”
“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out
he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”
in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his
your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”
he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes
“have you also lost somebody?”
you nod at his question
“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”
wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”
there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight
he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief
you smile wistfully and he returns it
“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke
wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too
“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans
“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”
wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”
“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”
he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”
“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands
you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”
“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile
he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together
just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly
your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word
“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”
wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse
as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter
the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods
even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less
there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table
you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know
the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach
you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table
a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them
like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself
you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”
with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off
but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”
unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”
a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on
“true north”
her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time
she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did
wooyoung hurries to catch up to you
as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”
“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”
wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”
he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both
“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”
when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy
it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way
immediately, your hackles are raised
the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”
“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”
hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”
your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”
“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”
sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”
“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”
those two words again
you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…
suddenly, you remember.
legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person
a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters
he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements
the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long
human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing
however, this does not go unpunished
the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-
your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend
wooyoung interrupts
“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”
you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”
at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”
“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”
your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”
“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”
as were your parents by extension of the consequences
“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself
one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”
without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him
“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”
because you see it
the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life
wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else
you step in front of him, knife raised in protection
because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart
“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him
there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”
“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”
you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight
because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you
tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying
the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet
you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both
and indeed they are
they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern
hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough
now.
as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction
your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you
because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you
each other’s true north
jongho
pov: you're a mermaid who saves him
you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters
you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms
there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking
and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects
besides, what’s the worst that could happen?
no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather
you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation
you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale
there’s someone standing there waiting
his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth
the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists
you are at his complete mercy
he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word
“please”
immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net
there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered
“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth
there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger
he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste
but even then, he does not stop or falter
and then you hear it
the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net
you plummet into the ocean
and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall
jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him
he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision
overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further
he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again
he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast
one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes
it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea
he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free
except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips
by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch
he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones
instead, he plummets into the ocean
and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail
your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance
for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon
but then you see it - see him
apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before
and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home
there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting
it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence
you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water
as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean
in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels
and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings
you gingerly swim closer
when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips
you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy
and so you swim.
the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath
he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions
the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears
when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-
and bearings
the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing
there was the storm
the tangled sail
him climbing up the riggings
falling down, down, down
and then…
you
your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him
instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you
but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere
it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again
he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour
but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles
he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove
you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something
he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern
it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters
the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland
you wait, trying to gauge his actions
but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore
you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get
and then you see it
a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells
a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like
you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation
jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove
he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust
but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand
…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen
he tries not to feel disappointed
after all, you have no reason to trust him
so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat
when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state
but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer
gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells
in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle
a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need
jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face
you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning
you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human
how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?
their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control
quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…
and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike
it’s ironic
no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom
side by side
jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs
he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you
so he resorts to using his bare hands
you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something
you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach
for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all
so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him
jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away
he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once
he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness
“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”
your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles
you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops
if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling
you want to hear it again
jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands
he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth
the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it
he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time
he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish
so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”
are mermaids technically fish?
did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?
before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod
jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet
as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him
whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body
but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so
and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display
your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements
he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you
jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you
and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice
“why are you staring?”
your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour
his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind
“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”
for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter
a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you
together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air
his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night
but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…
until it’s too late
you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove
it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side
you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know
you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it
except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock
it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater
so then, why?
you look down and your heart drops
tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus
you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water
your scales have started to lose their shimmer
jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes
(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)
“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in
you uncurl your fingers with a shrug
“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”
you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”
jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down
“you run it through your hair to untangle it”
he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face
“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers
just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once
when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you
you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck
he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair
his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot
his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before
you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body
“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”
he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better
you try to formulate an answer, “i…”
i think i’m in love with you
of course, you would never tell him that
but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist
a scar
“is that- how did you get this?”
you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger
as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly
“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”
your gaze is unfocused as you process the information
the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail
because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time
years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense
you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again
but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to
they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled
and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho
“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic
you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body
yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified
your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving
“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response
you can’t- won’t die in front of him
your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms
jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-
“don’t!” you bark out sharply
he freezes in shock
you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…
you could never yell at jongho
with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”
and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water
except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens
you. cannot. breathe.
you’re drowning.
jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone
his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise
he dives into the water after you
the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense
jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you
your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching
he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest
you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth
jongho will not let you die
lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours
a kiss of life-
he closes his eyes
-and love
but you don’t respond
jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath
instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder
and then he feels it
he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his
with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss
below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again
your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow
you can move again
you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths
he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now
“jongho, you-”
he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter
“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes
“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”
“fuck, you scared me”
jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water
you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”
he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly
“don’t ever do that again”
the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly
it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact
where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love
“i won’t,” you promise
on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man
a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after
but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid
a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after
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I have an alternate universe Buggy that's been ratallng around in my head. A female Buggy that's like Taylor Swift, so she got into music and wants to be a singer. She spent most of her time on the Oro building up her guitar and piano skills. She stole the guitar from the musician(was aware but let it happen) and begged Roger to get a piano. She didn't inherently have the greatest vocals and got teased, specifically by Shanks. Dreams of being in front of a crowd cheering her on and singing her songs. Those dreams are what drive her. It goes hand in hand with canon Buggy’s inferiority complex and constantly seeking attention to be a star.
The reason I can imagine it is because Buggy would be the kind to right the most unhinged lyrics that TS is known for. Also a lot of her lyrics reflect Buggy.
Mirrorball - And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me
Me! - I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh I know I never think before I jump And you're the kind of guy the ladies want (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there) I know that I went psycho on the phone I never leave well enough alone And trouble's gonna follow where I go (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)
Karma - ‘Cause karma is my boyfriend Karma is a god Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend Karma's a relaxing thought Aren't you envious that for you it's not? Sweet like honey, karma is a cat Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me Flexing like a goddamn acrobat Me and karma vibe like that Ask me what I learned from all those years Ask me what I earned from all those tears Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here (I'm still, I'm still here)
peace - Our coming-of-age has come and gone Suddenly the summer, it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it's just around the corner, darling ‘Cause it lives in me No, I could never give you peace
long story short - Fatefully I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me Misery Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break
Never Grow Up - And no one's ever burned you Nothing's ever left you scarred And even though you want to Just try to never grow up
So here I am in my new apartment In a big city, they just dropped me off It's so much colder than I thought it would be So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on Wish I'd never grown up I wish I'd never grown up
Endgame - I hit you like, "Bang" We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me
The whole of Dear Reader and most of Anti Hero. New Romantics just sounds like a pirate anthem. So definitely something Buggy would write.
Here are the albums that would be about different exes. The exes that had a lasting impact on her.
Red Hair Shanks - Debut, Fearless, and Red
Donquixate Doflamongo - Speak Now, a little of Fearless and Red.
Charlotte Katakuri - Speak Now
Sir Crocodile - 1989
Sakazuki/Akainu -folklore, evermore
Dracula Mihawk - reputation, Lover, folklore, evermore
Midnights is a mix of them. Also she falls back in love with Mihawk and Crocodile after they form the Cross Guild.
Her exes have a hard time forgetting her and its made even worse by their enemies using the songs about them to torment them. It also doesn't help that their subordinates and families listen to her songs too. I'm still figuring out the timeline. Akainu happens before Mihawk but she is so hurt by him that she wasn't able to write any songs about him until much later.
None of this is a commentary on Taylor Swift or her personal life. Just my interpretations and how they'd fit.

#buggy#au#Taylor swift#shuggy#bughawk#crocbug#crocodile x buggy x mihawk#buggy the clown#cross guild
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Old friends Pt 2
D.w
Summary: Your old friends and new friends collide, making an odd new summer group happen.
Warnings: swearing, fluff, embarrassing stories of reader, kind of short.
Readers nickname to the gang is; bunny, bc she saved a bunny that was being tormented by the socs.
Thank you guys sm for 200+ followers omggg 🥹🥹 I love y’all ❤️❤️
“Y/n, pleaseee get me a water.” Your friend whined. You rolled your eyes.
“No, Jade. You have legs.” You said, cuddling with Dallas as you two had just become official.
“Hey Y/n, remember that one time—“ Your friend started.
“Okay that’s enough.” You got up quickly to grab her water. The gangs glanced at you curiously, before turning to Jade to try and pry the story out of her.
“Ay I can’t tell you guys…. Yet.” She winked.
You came back with a cup full of ice water. “Here you go, whore.” You rolled your eyes and handed her the cup. She took no insult to the name, since you guys would literally cuss each other out as a joke.
“Thanks honeyyy.” She cooed, doing kissy-lips at you, and you flipped her off.
You cuddled back in with your boyfriend, while he chuckled softly. “I really wanna hear that story.” He teased, as you blushed.
“Oh shut up Dal.” You said jokingly, rolling your eyes.
——-
“Y/nnn!” Your two friends whined.
“What the fuck do you guys wanttt.” You responded, obviously tired of their antics. You were laying down on the couch, with your head on Dally’s lap and your feet in Sodas lap, as he flirted a bit with Jade.
“We’re hungry!” Samantha said, giving you puppy dog eyes.
“Ask Steve to make you food. Cus he’s your boyfriend or whatever.” You rolled your eyes teasingly. Her eyes widened and blush crept up her neck. Steve smirked with a raised brow.
“Hey, Y/n. Remember that one time—“ She pretended to be thinking, with her hand on her chin before you cut her off.
“Okay! Fuck, I’ll make you food.” She whined, sitting up and slowly sliding off of the couch, earning some laughter from the gang.
“Hey, Bunny. I can help you if you want.” Johnny smiled kindly at you.
“Aww Johnny cake you’re so sweet.” You cooed, pinching his cheeks like an old grandma. He smiled, swatting your hands from his face.
You smiled, walking into the kitchen with Johnny in tow.
He helped you make dinner for the gang and your friends. After the food was ready you were exhausted.
You made chicken and rice, and veggies. The gang always loved when you cooked, because you would make sure to season everything really good.
You half smiled. “Dinners ready.” You said, an exhausted expression on your face. Jade, Samantha and Willow squealed, jumping out of the floor and running to the kitchen.
During dinner, small conversations were made by everyone. Before someone asked Jade, Samatha, and Willow to tell them one of the stories they were constantly blackmailing you with.
You put your head down in embarrassment. Dally placed a hand on your back as he chuckled.
“Okay, so one time, we were at the pool. She saw this cute lifeguard she liked, so she pretended to drown.” Samantha started as you groaned. Everyone, specifically Two-Bit and Dallas, were listening intently. “But he knew she was faking. Like 30 minutes later she actually starts drowning and he thinks she’s pretending. So he blows it off, and then when she’s still drowning, me and Jade are screaming for help, because we couldn’t help her, we fucking suck at swimming. So he jumped in and saved her.” Samantha said.
“So yeah basically she almost died because she had a little crush on a lifeguard.” Jade added, and you tried to sink lower in your seat.
“Tell us another one!” Two-bit said excitedly. He loved having leverage on his friends.
Willow smirked. “So there was this other one time, at the cinema.”
“Oh god.” You buried your head in your hands. The other one wasn’t nearly as bad as this.
“We were in the cinema and she got hot, so she took off her sweater. A boy around our age yelled ‘I didn’t realize what type of show this was.’” Willow snorted. “We looked confused until we realized she had accidentally taken her shirt off aswell. She was in her bra.”
You groaned, hearing the laughter of the gang. “No more, please!”
“Okok, for now.” Jade teased with a wink.
It was gonna be a long week.
Taglist- @rakitirakiti
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#the outsiders#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders dally#dally winston#dallas winston x reader#dally x reader#the outsiders steve#the outsiders masterlist#the outsiders sodapop#the outsiders johnny#the outsiders imagine#fem reader
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Thoughts on The Song of Achilles
Spoilers
"Achilles did not slur my name as people often did, as if in a hurry to be rid of it. Instead, he rang each syllable Pat-ro-clus." This is one of the many, many lines that broke me. It says a lot about Patroclus and Achilles in only two sentences
"What has Hector ever done to me?" Well, call me, Julius Caesar, because this line has stabbed me repeatedly. I read The Iliad first, so I had expectations, but man, does it still hurt
"Some people might have mistaken this for simplicity. But is it not a sort of genuis to always cut to the heart?" I like this line a lot . It shows how close the two of them became. Also, there is some genuis in saying what you mean, regardless of simplicity.
The fact that Patroclus realizes that his father's disappointment after he is to be exiled isn't for the crime but for not being cunning enough to cover it was cruel.
Odysseus, being the smug guy he is, just in general
Achilles has the most boyish, standard teen response after Thetis tells him she wants him to be a God. It really shows the divide of human and God in him. Also the contrast is kinda funny
"There is no law that gods must be fair, Achilles." That is both the truth and probably a warning
"Name one hero who was happy. You can't."
"I can't."
"I know. They never let you be famous and happy. ... I'll tell you a secret."
"Tell me."
"I'm going to be the first. ... Because you're the reason. Swear it." Laughter morphs into uncontrollable sobbing. Oh the dramatic irony.
Patroclus saying he could identify Achilles by touch alone is just WOW
"Useless information is my curse, I'm afraid." Me too, Odysseus, me too
Odysseus talking about Penelope 🥺
Polutropos- man of many turnings is now something I'm gonna utilize more often
I have now officially scarred both myself and my friend for life with the tales of "Mighty Tydeus, King of Argos, Eater of Brains," and Tantalus' eternal torment
The banter between Odysseus and Diomedes
THE SACRIFICE OF IPHIGENIA 😭
"The goddess is appeased" CLEARLY NOT MORON
The fact that Agamemnon could anger both Apollo and Artemis is pretty impressive underneath its massive layer of stupidity (a thought that returned to me from before when I read The Iliad)
Odysseus calling Achilles "a weapon, a killer" because "you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature" really drives home my conflicted feeling that are true for most of the Greek heroes, but specifically Achilles this time
"I hope Hector kills you."
"Do you think I do not hope the same?" THE GRIEF MY HEART
Backtracking here, but I like how Briseis and Patroclus had a close bond with each other
"I am glad that he is dead." THAT IS CRUEL WOW. AND THE FACT THAT ITS THE LAST THING SHE SAYS BEFORE HE DIES IS WOW
Pyrrhus: *exists* Me: go back to pre-algebra you're 12
I find it ironic that Pyrrhus was killed by Agamemnon's son Orestes, considering their fathers loathed each other. The dishonoring continues among generations, but reversed this time and ending with murder
THETIS LETTING PATROCLUS AND ACHILLES BE BURIED TOGETHER, HAVING BOTH THEIR NAMES ON THE TOMB AND THE BOTH OF THEM GETTING PEACE IN THE UNDERWORLD 😭
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HIIII :) here to ask about the abyss tell me about it please please please love this sort of thing :3
HAIIII welcome :) to preface this im normal i swear. anyway The Abyss is what i like ta call my Horrible Horrible Maze, i made it w/ the goal of making the worst possible experience in minecraft to torment my friends ^_^
I enjoy putting people in situations and studying them :D
On that note! everyone who runs the abyss (24 people at current count) I time and write a couple notes on them! the abyss is honestly half maze half personality test LMAO. at current moment the quickest time goes to @ghostpajamas with a baffling 03:24 (wild that he got out so quick, i win tho cause i haunt his dreams), and longest goes to the beloved @rendogdomesticated with 1:35:54 <3 special shout out ta my dearest @theoctagon tho wolff ur insane i love u. guy goes inta the abyss for fun and has like 10 pages and counting of insane person phsyical notes tryna map it out (hes reported that hes gone through the first one 60 times and the 2nd one 5 jesus chriiiistttt). the abyss is fond of Pilot :) also if wolff is the favourite than @potionofinstantdamage is the Least favourite, rude ass set the place on fire when he got stuck in there :( oof ouchie
Highlights from my notes include @quack-city running backwards and upon me asking Why, simply replied “what if there’s slenderman :(‘ ... cant argue w/ that! he also hadda stop mid run so we decided its funnier if he’s just stuck in there forever. @newtbeetle was in there for like an hour and would NOT shut up about Paul Dano the whole time which was a time (love u beebs. ur isnane). my two test runners are @kishdoodles and @officialgleamstar and they had about the same time but like Opposite reactions it was very funny, kish treated it like they were a streamer n kept a like constant chatter, and travvy was like DEAD silent the whole time n Intensely focused akjewkjr tbh outta all 24 runners trav’s been prob the most like, methotical bout it? LIKE I SAID personality test. i Love studying people.
In regards to its origins I came up w/ the idea back in like feb/march ish of this year and from start to finish it took me like 2 weeks ish i was on the Grind. u dont understnad how much black concrete this thing took. hell on earth,,, darkwoods has an economy/shopping district and i bought out like All the sand/gravel available akjwekjr the rest i hadda gather myself n God gravel sucks. also ive killed So Many Squids. the 2nd abyss was much easier ta gather supplies for cause i could ask for help w/ supplies n i kept the first one a Complete secret minus my test runners (i hadda bitch at SOMEONE while makin it or i wouldve died i think. speakin of the first abyss has a death count of 13 and the 2nd one has like, 5 or somefin? rlly shouldve writen that down akjwerjk those are Entirely me dying in the process of buildin them btw. its not a true Spain Build unless its mildly dangerous <3) The 2nd one also made me learn redstone, notably i specifically studied Tango’s decked out process vids from s7, tho i really only stole like two aspects of it n i couldnt even get one ta work properly LMAO
The second abyss took me like, wayy longer ta make, bout two months ish (i finished it like mid july). not necessarily in actual like, time spent building but cause in the process of makin it i had Two month long events i was in (Voiceteam in may and Art fight in july) so that distracted me a bit wkwnekeneie Im a bit more secretive bout the second abyss in general since not That many people have actually ran it compared ta the first n theres actually like, Things that can be spoiled in there <3 i like seein peep’s initial reactions its much more satisfying.
This didnt happen w/ everyone but i think a like, Core part of running the abyss is getting emotionally attached ta weird things. i wouldve said just torches until a few days ago when Tac (onea the rat server mods) ran it and claimed the stack of pumpkin pies i gave her as family. But Prior Ta That several people have had very intense emotions bout the redstone torches, whether love or hate or both, key example ft dog:
Also not everyone ive mentioned on this post is in darkwoods! ive got a server i world editted the abyss inta so non-server members can run it for fun and profit (more data for me) :) on that note ive been slowly infecting the rat gang server cause my friend’s in there alot n another friend of mine’s a mod so peeps in there’ve been runnin it lately :) shout out ta TalonMC for lettin me subject him ta the Horrors literally our first conversation, onea my more fun first impressions i’d say
In regards to lore the abyss is a parasitic entity that infects anyone who gets stuck in there n slowly compells them ta go build their own lmao. note that ive only called the second abyss the Second one and not Abyss 2, because its technically just The Abyss as well cause theres many of them i just made it second wowjdkenejd (a real example of this is Wolff gettin obsessed w/ the abyss n then goin n buildin his own build called the Tower :) very excited bout that) The Abyss has a weird like fucked up warlock bond w/ my goddess oc The Overseer :D Her design’s vaugely based off my irl friend @hotcollectionoftubs cause her creation The Hole on a creative world her n some other friends of mine are on was onea the main insperations for certain aspects of the abyss’ lore :D mainly the teal in the colour palette and the whole ‘the [hole/abyss] provides’ thing.
(my reference images for her and 3rd pic's art i commissioned from the Lovely @opuntie):
my darkwoods chara, Snake, is a whole nother bag entirely (basic gist is they’re a dimension traveler not by choice and darkwoods is the 3rd world theyve been in, their deal’s worth a whole post of its own lmao) i built the first abyss entirely unrelated ta my chara just as like, fun weird build ta torment my friends w/o yaknow? but then as i was buildin the 2nd one i was like hmmmmmm. alotta things could make sense if i made this one built by Snake. so their retirement arc on darkwoods turned inta even MORE trauma! wahoo! poor guy deserves a break,,, (he will not be getting one).
(pre abyss + post abyss. i gotta properly draw pre-darkwoods Snake at some point but this dudes changed Alot ill say that lmao. both crops from bigger pieces on my art blog @fluxydrawings)
Anyway thats basically it! ive got more details and things locked in my brain ill probably remember in like 2 days after postin this so theres a chance ill reblog this w/ extra shit later lmao, sides that tho the abyss is my babygirl n thank yall for showin interest ^_^
Memes n shit to end us off:
#Inbox#darkwoods smp#the abyss#t3rm1nus#anonymous#not puttin this under a read more. look upon my creation boy.#ive been writing this post for like. 2 days kjawekjrkwekj its like 1.1k words or some shit#i have So many thoughts bout the abyss at all times#also too lazy ta add ta the post more but im workin on a Secret Third Thing called The Coil that isnt an abyss but it IS the like. spiritua#l successor#the goddess of the coil is the Overseer's ex wife <3 for fun <3#i should rlly like. add up the average time for the abyss cause theres a Lotta variety#shout outs ta my bestie Kelly for gettin the 2nd quickest time and fellow darkwoods member Fuzzy for gettin the 2nd longest time akjwekjrkj#spain speaks
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Not to play devil's advocate here by any, ANY means here, but one could argue that the reason why Lenore didn't just slip the ring onto Hector's finger and ask him to swear his loyalty is because he could've gotten suspicious as he would've naturally asked "what's up with thing ring?" and "why are you asking me this?" (y'know assuming that Hector would grow half a braincell). By doing this while they were "getting busy" she made sure that he wouldn't notice the ring being slipped on as he was too focused on "other things" nor would he question Lenore's demands for loyalty out of horniness basically
I'm not saying this to defend the act in any way imaginable but, pragmatically speaking, you could argue that Lenore needed to put Hector into a very specific position in order to pull off her plan and this was enough
...which still doesn't excuse either the vile nature of the act nor the fact that she quite visibly enjoyed doing this to him and taunting him about it afterwards
This is why I said that I don't know how much the bearer has to mean the words "I'll be loyal to you". Granted, Lenore has been established to not be the type to simply beat Hector up and force him to do things, so I understand why she took the indirect way regardless of how the ring functions.
But I think it would have been easy for her to make the proposal and slip the ring on his finger, while they were sitting side by side. Something like "So, have you decided? Think, Hector. We will let you roam around the castle. We'll give you good food, keep you warm. We'll allow you to feel safe as you forge to your heart's content. We'll treat you nicely if you behave nicely; and you have me by your side. So, will you be loyal to us?". As I said, by that point Hector seemed convinced enough. He got a little taste of Lenore's generosity: she did bring him clothes, non-rotten food, the shoes he asked for, and spoke to him nicely. (I'm ignoring all the "good boys" for this argument) I could even say that maybe the talking would have distracted him from Lenore's movements.
It makes much, much more sense that that stupid, out of nowhere lie of "oh I don't like what we're doing anymore, we could flee together :(". Now that should have made Hector activate his only braincell. God I hate that line so much lmao
Actually, you know what? Why couldn't Lenore pretend to gift that ring to Hector? Since she had already "admitted" that she was attracted to him, and it was his only advantage over her? Another way to lower his guard. It could have been an apparently selfless act, or yet another example of "diplomacy": give him the ring, and in exchange, ask for his loyalty. That sounds much more like Lenore's previous modus operandi.
If Ellis wanted, he could have easily written a scenario where Lenore did not resort to sex to get her way. But he didn't. Because he's a horrible, disgusting person, and he really loved to torment a character out of spite. And there are still people out there that defend these writing choices because the rapist character happened to be a cute woman.
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Oh my gawd, this book is tearin’ me up, man.
I cannot believe what that bastard Santino did to Armand. I knew something had to be up with Riccardo, with him not being sacrificed to the fire with the other boys, but man, I couldn’t have imagined just how horrific it was, what they planned. That they starved Armand for six nights, and then in his delirium, fed Riccardo to him... that’s about the cruelest fucking thing I can imagine. Really, it’s truly no wonder Armand is as messed up as he is when Lestat first meets him. It’s no wonder at all. And the tragic mirroring of that abuse that Armand suffered at Santino’s and Allesandra’s hands, when he does the same, essentially, to Lestat, when Lestat comes back to Paris to beg for his help, it truly demonstrates the devastating consequences and legacy of abuse, the cycle of it.
Armand’s mind being broken through imprisonment and starvation, the way they manipulated him into accepting this new life of utter denial and self-recrimination and self-penance, the way it fed into his already existent fears that he was somehow blaspheming against God by living the life he did with Marius, and this fate befalling him was somehow the fulfillment of punishment for that sin, ah, just the whole thing is truly, unspeakably tragic. Making it all the more jacked up is this idea they fed him, of not being allowed or able to look upon any symbols of religion, to take no comfort in religious art or iconography, this lesson he was taught of it being some sort of affront to God, for vampires to look upon these things, denying Armand even the beauty or relief in art, the very thing Lestat himself found solace in after his own breakdown. You honestly can’t hold any of Armand’s later actions entirely against him, when you see just how fucked up his life has been. And again, just the incredible tragedy of seeing that legacy of abuse continued, and how it impacted and initially impaired his relationship with Lestat, because I swear, there’s so much between them that they genuinely share, that they genuinely could have found solace in with one another, a mutual understanding through loss and isolation and experience. But because of Armand’s own, specific type of trauma, because of the abuse done to him, the way he was manipulated into accepting this life and these beliefs through abuse, it just completely warped Armand’s own understanding of something as simple as social interaction, and even his understanding of what love is. You get the terrifying sense that what Armand later does to Lestat, basically recreating for Lestat his own torture at the hands of Santino and Allesandra, that he believed it was a kind of love. Because of this part, the part that I found the most upsetting, truly, after Santino and Allesandra have tormented him and starved him and fed him these innocent victims in between bouts of starvation for literal months on end:
“Allesandra laid her cool, soft hands so gently on me.
“Poor orphan child,” she said. “Wandering child, oh, such a long road you’ve traveled to come to us.”
And what a wonder it was that all they had done to me should seem but a thing we shared, a common and inevitable catastrophe.”
Armand is so broken by what he goes through, his mind so broken and warped, that he comes to feel and believe that what these bastards did to him was a kind of love, and again, when he later puts Lestat through an eerily similar type of torture, you have to think he’s operating under that same, misguided and warped belief. And this really is the worst kind of manipulation and abuse. To make your victim believe that it was all done in their best interest, and to somehow trick them into believing that their suffering is a shared one, that it’s understood and empathized with BY the abuser. Ugh, it’s fucking awful. And this truly is the moment Armand breaks. This is the moment he gives in to their manipulations and their cruelty and their deceptions. Armand held out for so long, he tried so hard, but given the incredible loss and suffering he experienced, who could possibly, really stand up to that? When he sobs and throws his arms around Allesandra, when she tells him she’s going with him to Paris, that about did me in. He’s so desperate in his aloneness and his isolation, in his total lack of comfort of ANY kind, that he weeps to know one of the people who facilitated his abuse is going to stay with him.
Armand wins the prize for most traumatic life. This poor, poor man.
The more you get into the details of Armand’s life, the more you realize, too, that Lestat really DID, in his way, rescue him. Armand was trapped in a complete nightmare, with no way out. And though it was painful and awful for Armand at the time, Lestat showing up when he did, the way he did, and laying waste to this jacked up and ignorant and abusive system of belief Armand was trapped in, it’s what pulled Armand up out of it. Just Lestat being himself, refusing to yield, is what lighted the path to Armand’s own escape. And there again we have an example of the light in Lestat Nicki spoke about. A light which draws others to him, and a light which those who are trapped in darkness can cling to.
And there’s an element of such tragedy to this too. Because of course Lestat himself has been made to believe again and again that that light in him is a force of destruction. That it somehow destroys those he loves. That the force of his personality and will brings everything he loves to ruin. But Armand is the living, breathing proof of that NOT being true. He’s the living, breathing proof that Lestat’s light, in fact, can be a saving grace, a force for good.
Lestat’s light is what pulled Armand out of the darkness.
It’s ironic, then, that the two of them were for so long at odds with one another. Because the two of them parallel each other to perfection. Lestat, being who he is, proves to Armand that he was never a sinner or a bad person to live as he did with Marius, that the fanatical laws of The Children of Darkness were never his destiny or his fate or his punishment for anything he’d done. And Armand, being saved by Lestat’s light, proves to Lestat that being who he is isn’t an inherently destructive or evil thing.
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Yan Anon reporting in~
These are all just *chef’s kiss X2* perfect.
“yeah so i'm also obsessed with unhinged dream so if i may just uhh throw my own kinks into the pile (nonny if this inspired you i will be thrilled if not i'm still also hoping you wind up writing this fic because. omg.) but uh. dream giving hob a pussy, wrecking it, and then immediately adding some nice chastity piercings?” -🐈⬛
🐈⬛Hello! It has indeed inspired me, my gosh, you have no idea. I was thinking how Dream could torment Hob with the piercings and this is just inspired. And Dream being absolutely mean, making Hob beg for his release- my nose is starting to gush blood. I imagine Dream on a comfy armchair, sitting there with an uncharacteristically manic grin and flushed face, while Hob has to slowly crawl his way over and plead with whines and whimpers, and in his head he’s thinking, “Master please, I’ve been good, so good. I need your cock inside my pussy please. pleaseletmecum” All the while spreading his legs and pussy, just presenting himself to tempt Dream. WHEW. I just can’t explain it, Yandere Dream is just so hot to me, and I want him to be as possessive and as fucked up as possible.
“oh my GOD yes please like. dream eventually lets hob go and he feels awful and guilty about the whole thing and it hurts to let hob go but he does, he tweaks enough people's memories to just think that hob was away on sabbatical and it's fine, he can drop back into his old life.”
I hope I’m right in thinking this is the same anon XD I was kind of torn on which ending I would like to happen, one where Hob gets mindbroken to the point where he stays in the Dreaming permanently(which is a bit too dark and urgh than I’d like) or one where Dream comes to his senses and lets him go, but this is perfect. Hob willingly and consensually offers himself to Dream and he’s not so far gone where he’s just a broken mindless pet. I LOVE IT. It’s hilarious to think that Dream would be the speechless one for once XD
Oh btw, here's what I was thinking about how this all started. Hob POV, Dream and Hob had their meeting in the New Inn, and everything’s wonderful cause Hob finally knows what to call his stranger AND Dream agrees to more than one meeting a century, a miracle! So they start meeting once every few months, then once a month, and so on and so on, until Hob realizes that they’re meeting multiple times a week now. Not that he’s complaining, he’s ecstatic really, even if Dream is exhibiting some weird tendencies/behaviors/habits.
Staring/Stalking - Hob notices that Dream likes to stare, at him specifically now that he’s thinking about it, there’s a kind of darkness in his friend’s eyes that’s a bit unnerving, but he’s probably just imagining it. He’s just happy to have his friend around, but definitely not the big-ass raven that seems to be stalking his every move. There’s also the constant feeling of being watched whenever he’s alone or in public but maybe he’s just being paranoid.
Touching – They were fleeting touches at first like handshakes, and shoulders bumping, but now they’ve upgraded to handholding(context to follow XD) and actual hugs! Hugs that Hob swears linger just a tad too long to be considered normal, and did his hand kind of graze his ass? Ah who cares, Dream is finally being friendly and with honest-to-goodness smiles now.
People – People who have shown or expressed the tiniest bit of interest in Hob are now avoiding him like the plague. The regular customer that flirted with Hob yesterday at the inn is never seen again, the student that sent him a love letter has now dropped out of his class, and the friendly neighbor that usually gives him baked goods practically kissed the hallway trying to get to their apartment around him.
Dreams – Okay so I’m not so sure what to do here, Hob knows to an extent that Dream has dream-related powers, cause Dream gave him some vague bs answer like usual XD There’s gonna be mind-blowing wet dreams about Morpheus obviously, but maybe Hob doesn’t suspect Dream at first, perhaps he thinks it’s his desires manifesting into the hottest dream sex he has ever had, nearly every night, started almost the same time as when Dream reappeared in his life. Right Hob, right. Hob is gonna act more awkward cause of the dreams but I’m still thinking about whether there’s gonna be any physiological effects like increased horniness.
Then I was thinking of an incident that pushes Dream over the edge, perhaps someone flirting aggressively with Hob or Hob gets into an accident of some kind. Then boom, goodbye waking world.
A bit long I know hahahaha but all thoughts and criticisms are welcome here~
-Love, Yan Anon <3
Yan Anon, you are INCREDIBLE. I am so obsessed with this crazy yandere Dream who is totally obsessed and fixated on Hob!!! Somehow it's made even better by the fact that Hob is "just a human" so why is Dream so completely insane about him? Nobody understands!!! I love the idea of him using every spare moment to check in on Hob (either spend time with him or just... watch from afar), it's like his hobby at this point (there's a pun in there somewhere).
I also think Hob would be weirdly into it? Because he craves Dream’s attention, he wants to be Dream’s special pet... he even gets jealous if Dream happens to spend time with someone else because he’s come to expect that he’s Dream’s favourite. Just these two being weird and toxically attached to each other pleeease. Hob flirting with someone bc he knows Dream will go off the rails with jealousy and sweep him off to the dreaming to spank his pussy? Yeah. Yeeeeah <3
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Witch Theatre? :0 would u like to Expound?
oh hey sure!
me, from the future, after i finished writing this: oh god oh fuck im a rambly asshole and i put this underneath the cut
im pretty rusty all things considered and i dont think ive said this explicitly but my academic background is in english literature but within english literature i focused dramatic literature and within dramatic literature i focused specifically on witches and their potrayal on stage. i cant rattle off the esoterica like i used to but essentially the witch on page and on stage is the personification of a given community's anxieties and often in western literature of the anxieties associated with social hyopcrisies and, as one might imagine, socially out-grouped women end up being a pretty good vehicle for that kind of imagery. an an example i like to point to in western canon for its visibility and how explicit it is to these points, while notexactly my specialty because american literature is especially weak for me, is the scarlet letter because its a whole book about a woman suffering the punishment of a man's sin that he super duper definitely also commits but is still totally cool guys i swear and i think a lot of people have read or are aware of the general plot. in this example, they push her to the edge of town while all of them secretly continue to patron her to create a sort of ‘girl what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament’ type of beat when they are literally all going there for her needlework. to those ends, we see the very basic theme of appearances vs reality re: social hyopcrisy, but its an extra fun layer of commentary on the community’s fears in that they revile her but seek her out specifically to embelish their own vanity (which is very on the nose for our contemporary understanding of puritans haha (wherein the text they are concerned with the appearance of virtue rather than actually acting virtuous)). so the witch in ficiton can often be portrayed yeah as sedentary because a witch who leaves the community who fears her forfeits the dissonance the community participates in that gives her power over that community in the first place. spoilers for scarlet letter, but the reason why i like to point to it as an example especially is because it really does insist on that single-placedness: in the end, neither hester nor dimmesdale can escape the puritanical rule that torments them to, in this reading, illustrate that neither witch, woman or otherwise closted as dimmesdale is, can ever really leave the seat of their power because without it they are a spooky scary reflection without the object thats casts them.
but also my head is full of fuck! and while this was my focus of study, i am by no means an expert (i actually went on to pursue education instead of getting deeper into literature or theater and that body of knowledge has waned even further for me relatively speaking lmao)! this is just one reading of literary witches that i am deeply fond of and is a very handy way to understand any (socially) isolated fictional woman’s role in a story. wrt to our blorbo in laws, consider this reading in context of say savathun or mara or eris morn and you see a lot of neat things that characters in fiction are afraid of. its also sorta funny to psychoanalyze the player base at times, esp wrt how mara is talked about at large at times (but again i cannot emphasize that i dont know anything and i know even less about social sciences and every part of history that i didnt specifically scrutinize for my own study)
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you already know what it is (do pokemon)
NGL I think some of these will surprise you but maybe not. I feel like I've screamed about some of these. Also, for the sake of my sanity, I am not listing specific Pokemon, but the human characters, because otherwise Mawile and Grafarai sweep.
blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)
You might be expecting Adaman (And he is a blorbo but he's #2), it's N. It's N with a resounding victory and next to no effort. N has never done anything wrong in his life. N is the reason we can have nice things. N is perfect.
scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)
Cynthia because she's perfect
scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)
I actually really love Hau, and I feel like he gets shit on a LOT for no good reason?
glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)
I'd die for Sabrina. I don't know if she's really obscure anymore, I feel like she's been forgotten in the face of all the others, but Sabrina. Sabrina. You were one of my first loves. I will tip my hat.
poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)
Like every man with taste who likes problematic people, I'm saying Lusamine. Oh, Sun and Moon. You were some of my favorite games.
horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)
CYRUS REALLY NEEDS TO BE BULLIED I SWEAR TO GOD THIS MAN IS JUST
SOMEONE PICK ON HIM HE'S SO RIGID
eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)
I'm picking Volo here because I think he secretly wants to go to Superhell and he deserves to get everything he wants
#blorbo ask meme#dimetro#whimsically remembering how good the unova storyline was#praying for pokemon legends but its set in unova#please make more of these games so i can see them in other settings#considering pla is basically the best game in the franchise by leaps and bounds to me#volo get in superhell where you belong you wet dog of a man
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Zy is annoyed so quick summary on Planet in Vitalasy stream
Planet and vitalasy talk and they disagree on a lot of stuff
Vitalasy leaves the call annoyed and decides Panet is a problem and says he never wants to be put on a team with Planet ever
vitalasy than proceeds to test out the prison
he put planet in the unfinished prison and kept one tapping him until he almost got banned so he would stop talking since they disagree on stuff
Planet said "not again" and said he would do anything to make him stop
Planet gets out and Vitalasy tells Planet to stop interfering and blames him for his team break up
Planet see's the zam book which says "I never had teammates I could trust til now :)" (the one with the trust apple book) and Planet laughs saying "you kept more than Mapicc and Ro ever did" than vitalasy gets upset.
Planet says let's agree to disagree and Vitalasy gets super upset, leaves call, and than vitalasy talks about the past and says 3 players ruined it all.
————— Zy opinion —————
“3 players” well that's probably Mapicc, Ro & Zam so good thing those three don't hate each other currently
Vitalasy who is the closest to Spoke & Ash not bothering to see what their doing is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Spoke tormenting ppl and makes Vitalasy leader while Vitalasy wants hear nothing from anyone.
No one chooses their labels yet every person with a different opinion (who is mortal) is apparently his worse enemy (omg!)
He called himself the servers punching bag… I want him to name the people who hate him and the ppl who don’t cause from whatever I hear ppl blame him for trying to be a hero after the damage is done
The end portals? Yah they called him a tyrant so? Bro loves to contradict himself sometimes
Kinda glad Planet was the one to talk to him cause if it was anyone else Vitalasy wouldn’t have stopped. Why does it have to be Planet almost getting banned for him to stop raging smhhhhhhh
He keeps bringing up the past and I wanna bash my head into the wall like everyone heard u ok, yes you never wanted this to happen but what matters is the present and apparently running away is the answer. Than RUN AWAY, omg stop lingering in between, u can’t explain ur side (glitch wise) and than stick around other players
If u want to mind ur business alone than dont give ppl reasons too ??? ur already stuck being blamed for the exploits you can’t just run now
It makes sense why Subz just sat there and agreed during vitalasys rage/ rant cause wtf Planet isn’t a good but having his own opinion shouldn’t make u that upset
Subz who was ACTIVELY HUNTED chose to not learn the powers and that says something. Vitalasy who can’t log in to save his team and chooses to run away instead ? Ppl with less hearts and no gear still managed to save themselves. 3 heart trio got tormented A LOT yet fight with what they have, Zam got tormented SO much, they both probably have worse scars then Vitalasy in this season and Vitalasy choses to be left alone now. Did he not learn from Subz’s pacifism arc????
“Once the plan is in action you won’t be able to hit me anymore” ?????????? He hates the purpose of the server so badddddd
he becomes a god to be left alone, wasn’t Ashswag already considered a god and didn’t he still get people bothering him? Despite them knowing he would fight back. People want to fight eachother and especially a fair/ challenging one cause thats fun!!! The whole point Mapicc tries pulling Subz out of his pacifism was to fight cause when he fights Subz it’s fun, it’s challenging, he has to focus.
Vitalasy pls open ur eyes I swear it’s not that hard pls there are already ppl on the server who are in similar boats as you and ppl who have already run away
Also he keeps bringing up how he gave 8 hearts to Mapicc & Ro and they betrayed him. HE BETRAYED HIS OWN TEAM IN THE END FIGHT. He’s blind and even after his own team forgave him (Red & Pangi specifically) Vitalasy still treats it like he’s alone. I’m starting to think Pangi dragging him into fights was what a normal teammate would have done. Bro can never ask for help I swear
GAH I’m upset
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"God, your mouth. Please-" laidon
@strawberryxdreams || Smut Starters & Symbols yeesh
"Hm?" Zhaohui immediately pulled off of the other's cock with a lazy grin, knowing that was precisely the last thing Laidon would have wanted him to do. But who could blame him when the advisor made himself so fun to mess with? And easy, considering he was so new to pleasures of the flesh as well.
Hands massaged idly into the smooth skin of Laidon's thighs, knowingly and still achingly nowhere near where the other dragon would undoubtedly much rather them be. "You need to use your words, qīn, I'm not a mind reader after all. 'Please' what?" Zhaohui's languid smirk only widened as he began to move, climbing up from his place at Laidon's lap until he could meet the man eye to eye, all so the other could clearly see the sadistic glee he took from tormenting him as Zhaohui's arms draped themselves over his shoulders.
"You'll have to be very specific with me and spell out what exactly you want my mouth to do. Otherwise I might misunderstand, and," teeth nipped teasingly at Laidon's ear, "we wouldn't want that, would we? Something tells me that would be even worse for you."
Sometimes the rush he felt from tormenting the man he swear felt even better than the sex.
#strawberryxdreams#{N.s.f.w#{Zhaohui Answers#{Zhaohui and Laidon}#he called him 'dear'#kind of sarcastically of course
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Help! I'm Not Allowed To Use Racial Slurs!
Social Q's, The New York Times, 21 January 2021:
As a Christian, I find it hurtful when I hear the Lord’s name used as swear words. If I used sexist, racist, anti-Semitic or homophobic language as curse words, I might be garroted. So, it’s hard for me to understand why such swearing is acceptable when it comes to Christ. But the idea of confronting people about this makes me uneasy. Is there a better way to communicate my hurt? — DAINA
Dear Daina,
Perhaps we mere mortals are not meant to know why the all-powerful eternal being worshipped by you specifically is so incredibly pissy about the use of His name, being as He is all powerful and eternal and surely burdened with shit vastly more important than whether the kid behind the counter at Blockbuster mutters "Christ Almighty" under his breath when you pay for your rental in loose change. The Lord, as they say, moves in mysterious ways!
But to the crux (sorry!!!!!) of the matter: why are people allowed to do a cuss at Jesus, a cruel attack on a defenseless baby/the immortal Son of God and our Holy Redeemer and the Lamb of Vengeance who literally has the ability to damn humans to an eternity of unimaginable torment, but you can't unleash a barrage of violent slurs on people whenever the mood strikes? How can it be that just anybody can string the words "god" and "damn" together, doing immeasurable harm to a helpless Supreme Creator who might, at any moment, begin unleashing a series of plagues upon the world to usher in Armageddon and put a final end to humanity as we know it like the good and loving sky-Parent He is, but you can't verbally abuse people such that they fear for their safety and wellbeing?
I mean, where's the justice in that? Nobody is allowed to use sexist, racist, anti-Semitic, or homophobic curse words these days without suffering horrible consequences, such as being invited to direct Lethal Weapon Five, while everyone is allowed to say mean things about your particular religion of choice, for example, authors are having their books ripped from the shelves of public schools if they even vaguely hint at the idea that people other than white, heterosexual, cisgender, Christian Americans exist. So your worldview definitely tracks with reality there!
Certainly what Jesus had in mind when He commanded us to love our neighbors was for good Christians such as yourself to release a battery of offensive slurs against our fellow community members in order to balance the scales of power, at last, in favor of the Almighty God The Creator of Heaven and Earth.
#cussing#christianity#advice#bad advice#social q's#new york times#racism#anti-semitism#homophobia#theology#cancel culture#censorship#armageddon#lethal weapon five#people are fucking exhausting
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Anger Issues 🔥(h.h)
Warnings: smut. (Fingering, oral m-receving, unprotected sex, degradation, little bit of Dom!harry) lazertag (idk if that's a warning) swearing.
Word count: 2.6k
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You stood with your back against the wall, you were listening for one voice, one in particular.
“Hell mate, didn't even see ya there,” he laughed.
You raised your gun and jumped out aiming for the sensor on his chest and firing. It took you a few tries, but you managed to hit it at least once powering down his gun.
“Y/N!” Harry groaned as you ran the opposite direction. “We're on the same team you dork,” He yelled.
You jumped behind a large wall, ducking down, so he couldn't find you. You had only agreed to this for one reason, and it was to torment Harry, which seemed to be working flawlessly.
"Y/n," Tom's voice was directly behind you causing you to jump and squeak.
"Thomas," you hissed, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "Can't sneak up on me like that, m'hiding from Baz," you told him, peeking over the wall to see if you could spot him.
"He's on our team y'know," he chuckled.
"Doesn't mean I can't destroy him," you winked at him letting out a giggle before making a run towards another structure. Truth be told, this was all you had wanted when the idea of Laser Tag had been brought up that morning. It brought you pure joy to be a nuisance to Harry, to find his deepest buried nerve and pick at it until he would break. He knew it too, he knew you loved to be the reason he would crack. Harry angry and red hot in the face, that, well it just did something to you, and the way he would choose to take out that anger, whew. You were determined today, to get him to the point of no return, to the point where he had no choice. So as soon as you caught sight of his luscious auburn curls you jumped out, firing the gun and hitting the censor in the middle of his back. "gotcha," you said, sending him a wink.
"Y/n, y/l/n, I swear to fucking god-" he huffed, trudging forward towards you.
"S'not good to swear to God Baz," you teased. He continued towards you until he had you pushed against the wall, the censor vest digging into your back.
"The next time you shoot me, I will make you regret it," he seethed. You nodded quickly, biting your bottom lip. He went to walk away, and right as he did, you fired again, hitting his back censor a second time.
He turned towards you quickly, eyes narrowing, and you could see the red hue of his cheeks even in the dimly lit arena. "Oops," you giggled, dropping your gun and raising your hands in defense.
"You're coming with me," he growled, grabbing your wrist and pulling you behind him towards the exit.
"Oi, what are you doing? We have like 15 minutes left," Tom yelled after you.
"Sorry, you can beat them on your own, right?" You asked, right before Harry tugged you through the door. He pushed you to the wall, standing tall in front of you as he unbuckled your vest, slipping it off your head, and then doing the same with his.
"C'mon," he demanded. The velocity of his voice sent a shiver down your spine as you followed closely.
You were so thankful your hotel room was just a short elevator ride up. You stood silently in the elevator, eyes trained on Harry as he glared daggers at you.
"Could have won, if you hadn't fucked off," he mumbled.
"C'mon Baz, you think I cared about the game?" You asked him, raising your eyebrows in his direction.
The elevator dinged, opening the door to your floor before you were being led to the room the two of you were sharing.
No one knew the things that you and Harry had been taking part in the last few months, honestly you weren't sure what they would think. It had started one night after a bad football game, he was so angry, and it had turned you on beyond belief. You don't remember what exactly happened, but you do remember the second his fingers found their way to your panties you were both done for. Ever since that night, whenever he would get heated, you were there waiting, waiting to take his release, to ease the built up tension, and then after, you were both completely different people. He would clean you up, cuddle with you and send countless praises in your ears.
Was it a dangerous game to be playing? Probably.. Did you ever want it to end? Absolutely not!
Harry opened the door swiftly, pushing you in. "Harry," you giggled as you nearly tripped on one of the suitcases that you had scattered on the floor.
"Oops," he chuckled, steadying you. "Now get into that bed," he instructed.
"Yes sir," you winked before rushing to the bed.
"Why do you have to be such a.." he walked forward grabbing your jaw and turning your face up to him. "a little fucking brat?" He demanded.
You giggled as he outlined your lips with his thumb, pushing it inside your mouth.
If there was one thing that had completely taken you by surprise with Harry, it was how assertive he was in bed. The boy who quite literally seemed like an angel in every aspect of his life, would absolutely wreck you anytime he had the chance. Of course he wouldn't cross any lines you set, but if you gave him the go ahead he would push you until you just couldn't take anymore.
"Gonna be a good girl tonight?" He asked you, a fire burning in his eyes.
"Nope," you mumbled with his thumb still in your mouth.
"Gonna be a little brat?" He asked.
"Mmm," you moaned, sucking on his digit.
"Know what brats get?" He asked you. "Brats don't get all the sweet warming up, no," he pushed you back onto the bed, flipping you to your stomach. "Brats get it straight to the point," he grumbled, practically ripping your leggings from your body and pulling you onto your knees. His fingers quickly found their way to your dripping core, “My good little slut,” he cooed before shoving a finger in with no warning. “Always ready for me,”
You hummed in response as his finger grazed your sweet spot. Harry knew your body like the back of your hand and he knew how to bring you right to the edge, and then quickly back you away. He pulled his finger out of your clenching core, leaving you feeling needy and empty. “Baz,” you groaned.
“What?” He asked you, a cocky smirk on his face. “You thought I was going to let you finish? After tanking the game?” Your mouth dropped open as you were getting ready to say something, but too quickly his hand found its way around your throat squeezing only hard enough to elicit an almost pornographic moan from you. “You drive me fucking crazy,” He growled into your ear. “But you also make my heart skip a beat when i think of those pretty lips around my cock,” you were shocked at the turn he had taken, but
You couldn't lie to yourself, it had you clenching around nothing, wishing for some relief from him. “Put it in my mouth then,” You instructed looking into his soft, warm brown orbs through your dramatically long lashes.
“Oh yeah?” He asked, excitement clear in his voice, “Want me to fuck your face, love?” you couldn't help the moan that left your lips with the use of the pet name, you and harry usually kept things pretty casual, no ‘baby’ or ‘babe’ but specifically no ‘love’. So to hear the name slip past his lips had your heart (and your pussy) wanting more.
“Yes Harry, Please,” You practically begged. He helped you into a sitting position, hand moving from where it had been positioned on your neck to the hem of your shirt quickly stripping you of any clothes that remaned. He followed it up by doing the same, standing fully nude in front of you, cock in his hand as you readied your lips. He took a step towards you as you looked up to see the lust in his eyes as he rubbed his tip on your lips.
"Gonna take it all?" He asked, bringing his hand up to rub his thumb across your cheek. You licked your lips before opening them as he slowly pushed himself into your mouth. You didn't really care for it, a cock in your mouth, but the look on harry's face made you want it, you would do it forever just to see the lust and relief that graced his face with every thrust against your face, the moans that would leave his lips as you would swirl your tongue around his tip when he pulled back, only to push back in with more force, making tears gather in the corner of your eyes. Tears he would wipe away as he whispered how good you were for him, and he would continue his movements until you felt him twitching on your tongue, his cum dripping down your throat, before pulling away, only to wipe your lips of any excess mess that had been made.
"You know your fucking beautiful?" He asked, before bringing his lips down to yours. His lips met yours with a feverish fire, that was almost too much. Any time the two of you would get to this point you would end up feeling upset, because in the grand scheme of things, Harry was it for you, god did you love him, and all of this fooling around wasn't helping any.
Harry's hands found their way to the nape of your neck, before he laid you back and climbed above, lips trailing down your jaw and neck attaching to your nipples as he let his hands wander between your thighs. You wished you could tell him just how badly you wanted him, wanted more. The hookups were nice, perfect, and the aftercare was next level, but you wanted the sleepy cuddly Harry, and The date night Harry.. you wanted every aspect of him.
His fingers teased at your entrance while his thumb drew little circles around your clit. You moaned out his name, finally relieved to be getting some stimulation. "I want to try something different," he mumbled.
"What?" You wondered.
"I want to make love to you," he said shyly. You pulled yourself up to your elbows as you stared shocked at him.
"You- what?"
"We're always going at it like it's the last time, and it's great, but I just want to savor it, savor you, just this once," he explained. You reached out, grabbing him and pulling him up to you as you slammed your lips together.
"Make Love to me then," you mumbled against his lips.
He moved your hands, interlocking your fingers with his before placing them above your head as he kissed you with more passion than you had ever experienced. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip, and you opened letting him in. It was different, and not in a bad way, you had made out with Harry countless times, whether it be in the heat of the moment, a drunk night, or a late night hookup, but this… This felt like more.
"God I love your lips," he whispered as he pulled away from the kiss, reaching down to caress your cheek. The use of the word 'love' leaving you with butterflies in your belly. His hands trailed down your body slowly, as his eyes did the same. "I feel like your body was meant for me," he told you. "The curve of your hips, the way your breasts feel in my hands, how your hair cascades down your back, the way you cling to me while I'm making you mine," he sighed as he looked back up to you. "It's as if someone wrote out the perfect match for me, and they put your name down," he whispered.
You felt tears rush to your eyes, unsure of what he was trying to get at. "Harry," you whispered.
He leaned back down, bringing his face dangerously close to yours, noses touching. You could feel the heat of his breath on your lips, "I want more, I want you," he said before closing the distance.
You were sure you were dreaming. This couldn't be real. He grabbed your hips as he positioned himself between your thighs, not breaking away from your lips. You felt him slowly push into you, bottoming out, before making any other movements. Slow wasn't exactly your thing, sure slow and steady wins the race, but you preferred the fast paced sex that you and Harry usually had, but in that moment, as his lips devoured yours, and his hips met yours gently and slowly, you felt pure Bliss. It wasn't rushed, trying to edge each other on, it wasn't a hidden agenda, just the two of you, lost in each other, lips colliding as you made love.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered in your ear, as he kissed from beneath it to your jaw.
"Harry," you moaned out.
"My beautiful girl," he whispered, "gonna make you feel good, yeah?" He asked as his hand sneaked between your bodies. His fingers gently brushed against your nub, but with how turned on you were, it was enough to send a jolt through your body.
"M'close," you let out.
"I know," he told you, as he quickened his movements. "Me too," he grunted. As soon as you felt him twitch inside of you, you clenched around him, orgasm taking control of your body. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you buried your face in his neck. He continued his movements until you let up, a sigh of relief leave your mouth.
You laid like that, him on top of you, you clutching to him, for a while. Finally he got up, walking towards the bathroom and returning with a damp rag. He sat between your legs as he cleaned you up gently, knowing you were probably sensitive. "Harry," you said quietly.
"Yes love?" He asked, glancing up to you.
"What did you mean? By, you want more?" You asked, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Well," he sighed, climbing up and laying down next to you. "You know how Haz and grace are always, holding hands, sharing food, being ridiculously cute, and making us all want to vomit?" He asked you.
"Mm," you nodded.
"I want that, I want to hold your hand as we walk down the pier to watch the sunset, and I want to order one milkshake with two straws and put a dollop of whip cream on your nose, I want people to look at us together and think we are cute, I want to be the reason they want to vomit," he told you.
You let out a chuckle as you reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together.
"So you want-"
"You to be my girlfriend," he finished.
You couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face. This was everything that you wanted, and to have him tell you he wanted the same thing? It felt good.
"Alright, on one condition," you said cheekily.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" He asked.
"I want to put the dollop of whip cream on your nose," you giggled. He rolled his eyes before leaning in and capturing your lips with his.
Tag list:
@theglitterymess @violetlilysunshine
@petesrparker
@harryhollandsgirlfriend
@mcushvft
(if your name is crossed out I couldn't tag you 😭😩)
#harry holland x y/n#harry robert holland#harry holland#harry holland smut#harry holland imagine#harry holland fluff#harry holland x you
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