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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 year

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Comet Donati [Chapter 5: I Should Have Kissed You]

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), drugs, alcohol, smoking, mental health struggles, bodily injury, sloths, public indecency, another important conversation on a balcony, angst!

Selected Chapter Quote: “I’m sorry about what happened tonight.”

Word count: 8k (+1 meme).

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @doingfondue @catalina-howard @randomdragonfires @myspotofcraziness @arcielee @fan-goddess @talesofoldandnew @marvelescvpe @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mariahossain @chainsawsangel @darkenchantress @not-a-glad-gladiator @gemini-mama @trifoliumviridi @herfantasyworldd @babyblue711 @namelesslosers @thelittleswanao3 @daenysx @moonlightfoxx @libroparaiso @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @mizfortuna @florent1s @heimtathurs @bhanclegane @poohxlove @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @heavenly1927 @mariahossain @echos-muses @padfooteyes @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis @juliavilu1 @amiraisgoingthruit @lauraneedstochill @wintrr13 @r0segard3n

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There’s turbulence over the Indian Ocean as the jet staggers towards Singapore, pitching and reeling, dark clouds churning beyond the windows like the malevolent brew of a caldron. Each time the plane plummets fifty or a hundred feet, you clutch reflexively at your armrests and try not to think of Cast Away. No one else seems bothered by it; that’s what years spent on international flights will do to people, you suppose. It dulls their instincts, tames them, sands down vestiges of primeval survivalism like a file taken to canine teeth. Cregan is ostensibly napping beneath his sunglasses, Daeron is propelling Mario through a maze of toxic fumes, Luke is watching The Crown on his laptop with Rhaena and Baela, Jace is applying shimmering, gelatinous, golden under-eye masks with great care, Criston is answering emails, Aegon is being forced by the label to click through online substance abuse education modules and sighs dramatically and often. And Aemond…

The jet loses a dozen meters of altitude and your stomach drops. You stifle a yelp with one hand as tears—unwanted and unforeseen—prickle into your eyes. You peek across the aisle to see Aemond watching you with his gaze of two blues: one like a clear cool river, the other an otherworldly maelstrom like the atmosphere on Neptune, beautiful yet barren. His expression is intense and searching, his brow low. You try to ignore him. You try to collect yourself.

“Honeybunch?” Shelby croons. Yes, she calls him honeybunch, freaking honeybunch, and occasionally Honey Bunches of Oats. It’s almost as nauseating as the turbulence. He turns to her after the briefest of hesitations. Shelby is crouched by a table, her project for the past hour: artfully arranged red roses, glass bowls of fruit that she spritzes with a spray bottle of water—like you’d use to discipline a cat—to keep it glistening, and bubbling flutes of pink champagne. When the careening of the jet sends anything sliding precariously towards the edge of the table, she casually pushes it back into place. Shelby is no stranger to flying either. She is an angel, born with wings.

“Yeah?” Aemond says distractedly.

“Can you come over here for a sec?”

The jet shutters; ripples quake through your ginger ale. You swallow down a pathetic mewing like a wounded animal’s, swiping a tear from your cheek. You nestle against the window so no one will notice. “Sure,” Aemond tells Shelby, casting you another glance as he stands. He goes to her—gripping the backs of chairs to keep his balance—and, after looking back at you one last time, swipes one gleaming strawberry from a bowl.

“Don’t!” Shelby whines, knowing that now she’ll have to rearrange things.

If Aemond heard her, he gives no indication. He chucks the strawberry as hard as he can at Aegon; it hits the side of his head with a wet thump. Tiny black seeds pop free. Juice like blood stains his blond hair.

Aegon rips out his earbuds and spins around in his seat. “Okay, what the fuck?”

“Whoops,” Aemond says dully.

“How does someone do that by accident?! How does that even happen?!” Rubbing his head with one hand, Aegon stretches and peers around the jet. His eyes—not a blue like clear water, but a deep murky cobalt, a difference you cannot help but notice again and again like the stinging of a papercut—catch on you. “Aww, Stargirl, what’s up?” He drags himself over, knocked to his knees once by the swerving of the jet, and plops down into the chair beside you. “You okay? Don’t worry. I’m a good swimmer. I’d drag you to shore.”

You laugh, pressing a napkin to your eyes. It comes away shriveled and damp. “I’m sorry. We get tornadoes back home sometimes, I can’t stop picturing wreckage.”

“You should have seen this flight we took last year over the Pacific. The jet was practically sideways. Jace threw up like ten times.”

“Three times,” Jace says, peeling off his under-eye masks like little gold jellyfish with his feet kicked up on an ottoman.

“Ten times?” Aegon replies innocently. “Ten, you said?”

“Three, you idiot.”

“Ten?”

“Three.”

“Ten!” Aegon confirms merrily.

Jace holds up an under-eye mask and jiggles it in the air, soft and wiggling and shapeless. “Hey guys! This is what Aegon looks like naked.”

“I don’t want him getting any of the money from my donut merch!” Aegon shouts. “Criston? You hear that? Criston? Hey Criston? Criston?!”

“Do your modules,” Criston replies without looking away from his emails.

“Fine,” Aegon huffs. The jet is gliding over the ocean more smoothly now. Still, he says to you after smacking a single sloppy kiss against your temple: “Follow me. You can help.”

You accompany Aegon back to his seat and laptop, a neon green MacBook Air. Shelby is snapping photos to post on Instagram, recording clips for TikTok: the meticulously arranged table, her long fingernails decorated with palm trees and Merlions and the flag of Singapore, selfies of her and Aemond…always taken to show his good side, of course. Your guts twist with hostility, mistrust, envy, wrath.

As you pass Jace, he holds out his discarded under-eye masks. “Wanna touch?” Jace invites you, leering. You peel one gluey under-eye mask from his open palm and examine it. As you massage the pool of viscous gold, Jace ogles, dangerously close to drooling.

“So soft,” you admire. “So smooth. Not a single wrinkle.” Then you fling it back at Jace. The adhesive side sticks to his forehead. “Just like your brain.”

Everyone howls, even Cregan—not asleep after all—and Criston; he tries to choke it down until his face floods red. Aemond is staring at the floor, but he is beaming. Shelby recaptures his attention and begins posing his hand around a glass of champagne, readjusting fingers like a physical therapist stretching and flexing half-healed limbs. She gets to touch him. She gets to speak to him.

“You’re always so mean,” Jace tells you as he pries the under-eye mask off his skin, unfazed, simpering, flirtatious. “You might have to make it up to me one day.”

“Unlikely.”

“We’ll see.”

“We certainly won’t.”

Aegon shows you the quiz that has popped up in his modules. “Okay, Stargirl. Time to prove yourself. Does coke make someone’s pupils bigger or smaller?”

All you can hear is Shelby’s high, sing-songy voice; all you can picture are her exquisite fingernails skimming their way down the ridge of Aemond’s spine. “I honestly can’t recall at the moment. Go snort some and we’ll find out.”

Aegon grins. “Don’t tempt me.”

Fifty minutes later and under blessedly clear skies, the jet touches down at Changi Airport: 88 degrees Fahrenheit, 80% humidity. Aegon groans as he trots down the airstair, slides on his aviator sunglasses, and wipes away sweat—already beading on his pink forehead and wetting the hair at the nape of his neck—with the back of one hand.

“Jesus Christ, I need a Double Chocolaty Chip Frappuccino.”

“Do you really?” Jace jabs, and you don’t have to scold him this time. Baela gets there first, hissing something to him that is brief and fearsome. You’re only half paying attention. Once Comet Donati makes it through security, there may be paparazzi waiting for them inside the airport. Everyone knows this; it’s the same in every city and on every continent. And as Shelby strolls across the tarmac with one arm looped through Aemond’s, you cannot help but see—you cannot help but absorb like nicotine through the capillary beds of a lung—that she reaches out with those beautiful yet claw-like fingernails and taps the front pocket of his button-up shirt, black with white lilies, until he pulls out a pair of sunglasses and shields himself from the pitying eyes of the world with them.

And you think with puncturing clarity like a shard of glass through flesh: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Pan Pacific Orchard Hotel is brand new. You can’t breathe without inhaling fresh paint, glass walls, the bakery, the greenery that climbs steel like a trellis, the roomy emptiness of starting over. You wake up tangled in a nest of white sheets that your body has heated into an inferno. You don’t remember your dream, only that Aemond was there. It was the opening of the door that woke you. Aegon stands in the slanting early-afternoon sunlight, vivid red swim trunks and matching Crocs, his sunglasses knotted in his hair.

You yawn and peer blearily at him. “Aegon? What are you doing?”

“Every day I wake up hoping you’re still here,” he says. And then: “We’re all headed down to the pool. You wanna join?”

You smile; you can smell him in the air, Axe body spray, Tiger Beer, sunscreen that he never seems to apply often enough to stop his skin from burning. You haven’t been with him—not in that way—since that day in Paris. But time never feels quite linear with Aegon. He swings wide and then comes in close again, and when he does it’s like he never left. He’s with you always, and never, and sometimes, and forever. “Yeah. Give me ten minutes.”

“Cool.” He turns and studies himself in the full-length mirror that hangs on your bedroom wall. His eyes wander down to his bare chest and belly. He frowns, pensive, far-away, critical. It is an expression that looks entirely unnatural on him.

“Hey.”

He spins back around, running a hand self-consciously down the front of his torso. “Hm?”

“I think you’re perfect exactly the way you are. I am wildly, helplessly, pathetically attracted to you. I would fight off twenty fangirls with my bare hands for you. I think you’re one of the most ludicrously gorgeous men I’ve ever met in my life. ”

He grins, radiant again. “One of them, huh?” And he winks at you as he clops towards the door in his Crocs. “Maybe it runs in the family.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“So. College applications season will be here in a few months.”

Baela looks at you, started. You’re in a whirlpool with her, Rhaena, Luke, and Aegon, sipping pina coladas and kicking feet idly beneath water misty with bubbles. “Okay?” Baela says. Her swimsuit is an elegant white one-piece that—unintentionally you think, unconsciously, and yet truthfully—closely resembles a ballet leotard.

“Elaborate?” Luke says, then slurps noisily on his pina colada.

Aegon already knows where you’re going. He chuckles into one closed fist; you can see yourself reflected in his sunglasses. In the massive main pool punctuated by an arcing bridge and a miniature island, Cregan is lounging on a float shaped like a pineapple and eating his way through a heaping plate of juicy slivers: papaya, mango, starfruit, banana, lychee, rose apple, dragon fruit. Criston is sitting under an umbrella and reading a New Yorker profile of shipping tycoon Viserys Targaryen—a Greek by birth and a Brit by choice—with narrowed, vexed eyes. Jace and Daeron are attempting to do a TikTok dance for Shelby to post on her account and repeatedly screwing up, laughing hysterically and pushing each other into the pool. She always wears eye-catching patterns, leopard prints and retro geometric shapes and plaids and Swarovski crystals and tassels. Currently, she is dressed in a scarlet bikini and a sheer coverup of tropical flowers. Her blond hair flows down her back and swings like a horse’s tail when she leans in to direct her cast, pointing and waving. You see her like this, not in whole but in pieces: long beachy waves, nimble ankles and wrists, lip gloss, veneers, sugary perfume, tall like Aemond. Shelby has no idea why you’re here. She made a few tentative inquiries—So who introduced you to the band? So how did you and Aegon meet?—before being discouraged by the ensuing stilted silence. Aemond rarely acknowledges you. Presently, he is wading in the pool up to his chest, occasionally talking to Cregan but otherwise content to be left to his own…reverie? Observations? Machinating? Brooding? With his sunglasses on, it’s difficult to tell.

Back in the whirlpool, you ask Baela: “What if you applied to a few ballet programs?”

“What?”

“Just to see what happens. Just to have options.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t do that.” She says this so quickly it’s clear that it’s a reflex: something she does not think about, something she’s trained herself not to.

“Sure you could. You click a few buttons and it’s done.”

“I’d have to send in video clips and stuff.”

“Okay. Rhaena and I will help record you.”

“Absolutely,” Rhaena agrees right away. She drinks her pina colada with large, skittish eyes, watching you like you’re poking a tiger, a viper, and dragon. She’s tried to have this conversation before. She knows how it usually goes.

“I’m really not in shape right now,” Baela protests.

“You still have time to work on that. It’s only July.”

“And who says I want to work on it?” Baela snaps. “Have I ever mentioned ballet school? Have I ever said that I want to go?”

“But you do,” you say simply.

She frowns as she casts her gaze across the pool. Beefy men dressed in black—security guards, some employed by the band, some by Shelby—mill around aimlessly like ants when you lift a rock.

“I think you should apply,” you tell Baela.

“I can’t,” she replies, pained.

“Why not?”

“Because.” She’s flustered, cross. Rhaena and Luke look between the two of you anxiously. Aegon just smiles and gnaws on the hunk of pineapple that came perched on the rim of his pina colada. “Am I supposed to send Rhaena off into the world without me? Nothing against you, Luke, I like you, I trust you, but when you’re on stage or in an interview you can’t watch out for her. What if something happens to Rhaena? Or what if I go back to school and I’m a failure? What if I humiliate myself? What if I’ve lost whatever talent I once had? What if I couldn’t keep up with my classmates? What if I get injured and have to drop out? What if I’m too old, or too out of practice, or what if I don’t even enjoy dancing anymore? What would I do about the band? What would I do about Jace?”

“Those are all valid concerns,” you say. “But they’re also concerns for after you’ve applied to schools. If you get acceptances, that doesn’t mean you have to go. But it does give you options. And options are always good.”

Baela shrugs. She catches handfuls of bubbles in one cupped palm, preoccupied. “It just seems like a waste of time.”

Aegon snickers as he tosses the pineapple rind over his shoulder. One of the security guys snatches it up off the concrete and throws it in a trashcan. “Baela, please babygirl, don’t give up on your dreams for freaking Jace.”

“And who the fuck solicited your life advice, blond Nikki Sixx? If I want to know what Narcan feels like, I’ll ask you.”

Aegon sighs, rubbing one eyebrow. “You are never going to let that go.”

“I bet you’d get in,” Luke tells Baela. “To at least one school. You’re too good not to, even with the time off. Rhaena’s shown me old recital clips. You were fantastic.”

“Were,” Baela mutters. “Past tense. Very distant past tense.”

“If you don’t get in, then you know it’s off the table,” you say. “And you’re in the exact same spot you are now. But if you do get in, you have time to figure out what to do with that information. You have nothing to lose except application fees, and I don’t think those are much of a barrier for you, oh great connoisseur of Gucci and Hermès.”

“I’ll think about it,” Baela replies, and her intent to end the conversation is clear. A few awkward moments creep by like afternoon shadows stretching across pavement. “So, what are we doing for dinner?”

“Something quick, right?” Luke says. “Takeout? We have a meet-and-greet in two hours.”

“Jollibee!” Rhaena exclaims, clapping her hands. “They have coconut pineapple pie!”

“Chicken Up,” Aegon says.

Luke laughs. “What the hell is a Chicken Up?”

“A chicken restaurant.”

“Groundbreaking” Baela quips.

“I’ve been to one in Seoul. Great wings.”

“But…but…Jollibee!” Rhaena pleads. “I need a coconut pineapple pie!”

“You’re literally drinking a coconut pineapple smoothie right now. When am I supposed to get my wings?!”

“Out of loyalty, I will have to vote for Jollibee,” Luke informs Aegon apologetically.

“I saw a Five Guys when we were driving here from the airport,” Baela suggests.

“Oh, I love Five Guys!” you say…and then you realize how it sounds. All of you giggle so loudly that Aemond looks over at the whirlpool, a little intrigued, a little miserable. He sinks down into the transparent blue water, Godzilla retreating from his wreckage.

Baela teases you: “Like, all at the same time, or…?”

“No, definitely one after the other. I don’t want an audience.”

Aegon chuckles, low and devious. He sets his empty pina colada glass on the rim of the whirlpool. Then, unprompted, he takes off his aviator sunglasses and puts them on you instead. Strange.

Rhaena is saying: “Okay, but seriously, I cannot overstate the merits of Jollibee…”

Beneath the water, obscured by riotous bubbles, Aegon settles a hand on your thigh. You glance over at him. He glances back, so subtly that the others don’t notice; they are deeply entrenched in their dinner debate. Now Baela is pitching MOS Burger.

Aegon arches an eyebrow. Okay? he’s asking. In reply—and after a moment’s hesitation—you open your thighs a little wider for him. His lips curl into a furtive smile. His palm skates excruciatingly slowly over your skin, taunting, electrifying, fingerprints dragging lightly. He’s still carrying on a conversation with the others, gesturing with his free hand. You sip your pina colada and try to act just as casual.

“Look,” Aegon is saying. “I’m not gonna eat someplace where they serve spaghetti with hotdogs in the meat sauce. It’s unnatural.”

His fingers slip beneath your swimsuit bottoms. You gasp before you can stop yourself.

“You okay?” Baela asks with concern.

You nod, blood rushing in your cheeks, blood rushing everywhere. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I saw a bug.”

Luke says: “Man, the insects here are insane, some giant buzzing black-and-gold thing flew into my face earlier today and I almost cried.”

“A cicada,” you murmur. You grip the rim of the whirlpool and try to keep still, fixing your gaze on the palm trees that surround the pool, waving lazily in a hot humid breeze. “We have them in Missouri too. But ours are green.”

Rhaena is saying: “Apparently Singapore is famous for some super-rare beetle that’s been around for like 50 million years…”

Aegon’s expert fingers are circling, applying pressure, experimenting with different rhythms. He knows he’s found the right one when you suck in a breath and almost drop your pina colada; his smile is filling up his face, he’s fighting a grin. That feeling—a heat, a glowing, an unfurling like an opened letter—builds until it hits a blissful yet constraining plateau. It’s a ceiling, it’s a landing with no more steps. You stare at the swaying palm trees and try to relax, grateful for Aegon’s aviator sunglasses to hide behind. He’s half-watching you as he chats nonchalantly, wondering what more you need from him.

The conversation that whirls around you has revolved back to dinner: Shake Shack, Yoshinoya, Nene Chicken, Marrybrown, Wingstop.

“We should go somewhere that has vegan options,” you say shakily.

“What? Why?” Rhaena asks; she has forgotten, but you never do.

“For Aemond.”

You steal a glimpse of Aemond over in the main pool and see him taking a piece of starfruit off Cregan’s plate. Aemond bites into it—those pristine, glistening, golden angles—and wipes juice from his lips with the back of one hand. Then he looks over at you: two people pretending they don’t see the other, two pairs of sunglasses meant to render certain things invisible. And immediately, without planning to, you are thinking about Aemond touching you. You are thinking about his lips and his fingers, his shoulders, his throat, his eye devouring parts of you he’s never seen. You are thinking about where you would both be now if Reykjavik had never happened. And as Aegon’s hand works beneath the veil of bubbles, you are close, so close, agonizingly close. You are incapable of following the conversation. It takes everything in you not to moan and reach down into the roiling water to press him even more forcefully against you. His fingers glide through folds that are slick and achingly ravenous. Your pina colada is melting.

Someone makes a restaurant suggestion; you can’t register it. Aegon holds up the index finger on his free hand. “One moment. Allow me to consult my associate.” He leans into you, his hair brushing against your face, smelling like beer and sunscreen and pina coladas and Axe body spray. And he whispers as he pushes two fingers inside you and strokes you insistently with them: “Come for me, pretty girl. Right now.”

And while these words are in Aegon’s voice, for a split second you image them as Aemond’s; and then your climax shudders through you, silent by necessity but mind-numbing, a reset button, a deleted message, an echo chamber of nothing, nothing, nothing. For a moment, there’s no past and no future, no Kansas City, no Rome, no Reykjavik, no Singapore, no shame and no guilt and no desire for anything. And then slowly, like drops of rain, the world begins to fill back in again.

Aegon turns your face towards him so your lips are to his ear. You have to say something. “You’re unbelievable,” you exhale, so softly no one else will hear. “You can’t be real.”

He tells the others: “She says she votes for Chicken Up.”

When Aegon leaves the whirlpool, you follow after him a few minutes later, just long enough of a gap not to arouse any suspicions. You find him alone in the band’s private cabana and talking to someone on his iPhone. You kneel down beside his lounge chair and bend over his neon red swim trunks, palming him through the fabric—almost immediately, he is hard—and untangling the knot of the drawstring.

“Okay. Sounds good. I gotta go. Emma? Hey, Emma? I gotta go now. Yeah. See you soon. Uh huh. Bye.” Aegon hangs up and sets his phone down. Then he hooks a finger beneath your chin and lifts it. “What are you doing?” he asks, amused yet kind.

“Taking care of you.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

Your hands go still; your face is lined with wounded bewilderment. “You don’t want me to?”

“Well obviously I want you to,” Aegon says. “But only if you’re really into it. Not just because you see it as a debt to be paid. This isn’t about reimbursement. This isn’t an ATM transaction. And, you know…” He shrugs, rueful. “I can tell you’re kinda going through it. And you’re the one who needs to be taken care of right now. That’s cool. That’s not a problem.”

You sit back on your ankles, feeling guilty but undeniably relieved. “It seems unfair to you.”

“Stargirl, I don’t mean this in a braggy way, but at all times I have a line out the door of women begging to take care of me. I think I’ll survive.”

“Okay.” You smile up at him. “Okay, Aegon. I get it. Thank you.”

His sunburned brow crinkles. He is confused. “For what?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Comet Donati is scheduled to play three nights at the National Stadium. On the afternoon of the second show, Luke and Rhaena go to Fort Canning Park to explore the archaeological excavation site, Jace and Baela depart to procure his tattoo to commemorate Singapore (a Merlion on his left pec), and you, Aegon, Cregan, Criston, Daeron, Aemond, and Shelby receive a private tour of the Mandai Wildlife Reserve to promote the conservation of endangered Southeast Asian species. There are conversations with the staff and generous gift baskets and photo ops—which each time you quietly step out of the frame for, while Shelby steps in—but what snags in your mind, what you will remember forever about this day is Aemond. Because when he holds the animals, he lights up like you haven’t seen since those YouTube videos of Comet performances before the accident in Tokyo; he becomes at peace, he becomes whole again. He lets a blue tarantula creep across his palm and forearm, he feeds pumpkin slices to Asian elephants rescued from circuses, he walks around with Bunny the sloth draped over his chest like a napping toddler. And he smiles wistfully the whole ride back to the hotel…even when Aegon makes Criston stop the Escalade at Starbucks so he can get a venti-sized Double Chocolaty Chip Frappuccino.

Shelby likes to be in the front row with you, Baela, and Rhaena, but she spends less time dancing and cheering than she does taking selfies and recording video clips. During your now least-favorite song, A Girl Named After A Car, you spend a few minutes covertly scrolling through Shelby’s latest Instagram posts. She’s been sharing Stories relentlessly, but her last photo is from the private jet: her beaming smile, Aemond’s more reticent one (and only his good side, his smooth cheek and clear river-blue eye), a meticulously-arranged bouquet of flowers clutched to her chest like a gift. The comments are a waterfall of praise worthy of a saint. I was praying you two would get back together! You have such a kind and selfless heart, Shelby! You are so good for him! You are so brave! Thank you for showing the world that beauty is only skin-deep! Like she’s goddamn Mother Teresa. Like she deserves an Olympic medal for finding the strength to love him.

And you think once again, not for the first time and not the last: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

After the concert is a ritual, like drawing a pentagram or burning sage. People converge in Jace’s suite to mingle and drink and smoke and find someone to fuck if that vacancy isn’t already filled. You loiter by the bar even after you are handed your Bramble, a drink that should be poisoned by the fact that Aemond introduced it to you; but you can’t stop craving it. Criston is pacing and trying to make a call out on the balcony; from the look of his expression, the person isn’t answering. Cregan is in a velvet lounge chair with three models on his lap; they are taking turns feeding him the dripping cherries that bob in their cocktails. The rest of the band is sitting nearby and discussing their plans for next year once the tour has ended. You overhear Rhaena saying that she wants to visit the Mammoth Site in South Dakota. Luke wants to finish writing a new album. Aemond is conspicuously quiet.

Security guys float through the room between currents of musicians, label executives, friends, acquaintances, assistants. Shelby has her own detail that follows her everywhere; approximately every eight hours they switch out and new faces show up. Sometimes you recognize them from a prior shift, sometimes not. They look through you like you don’t exist at all.

A seat is waiting for you between Aegon and Baela, but you are in no hurry to sit opposite of Shelby and be forced to bask in the radiance of her flowing zebra-print dress, red-lipped, California-sun perfection. As you procrastinate with your Bramble, you listen to Daeron ask her about the Met Gala next May.

“Yeah, I finally made it onto the planning committee!” she gushes.

“Yay!” Baela trills, palpably sarcastic.

“Make it donut themed,” Aegon slurs. He has had a lot of Tiger Beers.

“I was thinking a masquerade ball, actually,” Shelby says, then looks at Aemond and settles a hand on his thigh. “We can go together, honeybunch! The timing never worked out before, but I’ve always wanted to attend with you.”

Luke asks: “And what’s the inspiration for the masquerade ball…?”

“Well, you know.” Shelby gestures vaguely. “Aemond won’t have to feel bad.”

Because everyone will be wearing masks. There is a long lull as people piece together what she means. Jaws drop open. Eyes grow large and then blink at her, incredulous, appalled.

Finally, Jace chuckles awkwardly. “Oh fuck, did you really just say that?” He looks around at everyone else. “Did she really just say that?! I mean, I wouldn’t even have said that!”

“It’s fine,” Aemond says, getting up off the couch.

Shelby reaches for him. “Honeybunch, wait, you know I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” he repeats roughly. He takes his Bramble with him as he escapes to the balcony. Criston returns inside just as Aemond goes out.

“What’s his problem?” Criston inquires. Nobody answers.

Shelby sighs and—as furious blood swirls hot in your veins—approaches the bar. “Can I get a gin and tonic?” She takes out her phone, scrolls for a while, sighs again. You are glaring murderously at her. Shelby doesn’t even notice. The bartender slides her a tall glass full of clear carbonated liquid, ice, cucumber slices. She takes a picture of it before she plucks out the straw, lays it on the counter, and swallows a single, ladylike sip straight from the glass. She says to the bartender: “Drinking out of straws gives you wrinkles, you know.”

You say to her suddenly: “What is wrong with you?”

Shelby turns to you, startled. “Excuse me?”

You take a step closer, your pinkish Bramble still clasped in your hand. “I’ll ask again: what the fuck is wrong with you?”

She’s backing away, jumpy, clicking in her black heels. “What are you talking about?!”

“How dare you say something like that about him. In front of him.”

“Oh, so now I’m a bitch?” Shelby snaps. “Because I want him to have a good time at the Met Gala? Because I don’t want him to be humiliated?”

“No, because you think there’s anything humiliating about him at all, that’s what makes you a bitch—”

She shoves you backwards, only a few steps. You throw your Bramble in her face. She screams like you’ve stabbed her; it’s a scream that says I don’t know what it’s like to be hurt. And instantaneously, one of her security guards has his monstrous hand around your wrist.

You hear the pop before you feel it: bubbles bursting, tethers snapping. Then the pain explodes into your consciousness like a flashbang grenade. You’re shrieking, and suddenly there are voices all around you and people tugging in every direction. The security guy still has a grip on your wrist; each time he moves, he yanks you along with him, igniting fresh flairs of agony, impossibly red Morse code.

“No no no no no!” Aegon is shouting, pawing at the security guy. “She’s with us, she’s with us—!”

“Let her go!” Criston booms. Rhaena is crying. Baela is punching the security guy in the kidneys. Comet’s security guards clash with Shelby’s security guards, a miniature civil war. Within seconds the misunderstanding is resolved and you are freed. You are engulfed by Aegon and Criston, who try to examine your wrist; you are holding it gingerly to your chest, not even aware that you are sobbing. Baela is berating the rogue security guard. Rhaena, Luke, Jace, Daeron, Cregan, and Cregan’s soon-to-be one night stands are gaping at the scene. Shelby is being comforted by several fellow influencers; they coo sympathetically and give her napkins to mop the Bramble from her face.

Aegon, drunk but not far-gone, coaxes your wounded arm from your chest. “Shh, shh, you’re okay, let me see it…”

“Broken,” Criston pronounces. “Or dislocated. Time to go.”

“I can’t go home,” you say, petrified. Your thoughts are muddled by shock and pain.

Criston shakes his head. “No, not home. To the hospital.”

“I can take her,” Aegon volunteers, lurching as he grabs a barstool to keep his balance.

“No!” you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, Jace, Daeron, and Cregan burst out simultaneously.

“I’ll take her,” Criston says. “But you can come along, if you behave yourself and don’t try to steal morphine or anything. Bartender, I need ice…”

There is a commotion as Aemond bolts in from the balcony, moments too late. He looks at your swelling wrist, Shelby dripping with a Bramble, Baela taking a cloth full of ice cubes from the bartender and passing it to Criston. “What happened?!”

Aegon seethes as he pushes him aside: “Ask your fucking girlfriend.”

And Aemond watches, thunderstruck and horrified, as Criston escorts you out of the suite with Aegon and Baela following like shadows. When you glance back at him, he is growing smaller and smaller, like an object fading away in the reflection of a rearview mirror.

Under bright white lights, a gentle and mild-mannered Singaporean doctor maneuvers your bones back into place. It feels like you’re dying; Aegon tries to distract you with stories of shenanigans from tours long past, Baela finally begins to talk about ballet schools, which programs she likes and which she doesn’t and what exactly she’ll have to show in her audition tapes. The doctor informs you that you have a mild dislocation, no surgery needed, no cast, only a splint. He tells you to rest it and try to keep it elevated. He gives you pain medication that doesn’t do enough.

“That is an interesting saying,” the doctor says when he glimpses your tattoo, black ink between the straps of your pale pink dress, like the color of a healthy lung or brain: I’ll come back for you if it kills me, Comets clip by again after eons and so can I. You try not to think about these words. You don’t know what to make of them anymore. “Is it from a poem? Or a movie?”

“From a song,” you reply, studying the tiles of the floor. “One I used to love.”

Criston goes to pay the bill. Baela goes to get you a soda from the vending machine. “I’m sorry,” Aegon says miserably when the two of you are alone in the hospital room. Beer and remorse sweats out of his pores. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up in Reykjavik.”

“I know, Aegon. I’m not mad at you.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. I had way too much Icelandic beer, that was my bad. But it was supposed to be a compliment.”

“It was kinda sweet. In an unhinged, debaucherous sort of way. An Aegon way.”

And he burrows his head against your chest, and you comb your fingers through his messy blond hair with your uninjured hand, and you wish you understood why the coincidences of the world had brought you together if it was only a blip, an error, a momentary crossing of orbits before you returned to your designated places on opposite ends of the universe.

In the elevator, as the four of you zoom up to the top floor where the band’s suites are, you check your phone to discover that in addition to well-wishes from Luke, Rhaena, Daeron, and Cregan, Jace has sent you a WhatsApp message: A meme to make you feel better…

“Ugh,” you groan, and toss your phone back into your purse. You try to ignore the fact that there is nothing from Aemond, not a single word, not a missed call, nothing.

“You good?” Aegon asks.

“Yeah. The drugs the hospital gave me aren’t quite cutting it.” That’s very true, although that’s not the whole problem.

“You want some Vicodin?”

“No thank you, Aegon.”

“Oxy? Percocet? Klonopin? Codeine? Demerol? Coke? Speedball? Valium? Weed gummies?”

You blink at him as Criston and Baela stare at the elevator walls, trying not to listen in. “I think I’ll just go to sleep now.”

“Okay, Stargirl. Sure. Whatever you want.” He grabs your face, lands a kiss on your forehead, staggers off to his suite when the elevator doors ding and open. You walk in the opposite direction to yours after thanking Criston and Baela. As you pass Aemond’s suite, you can hear people arguing inside, heavy footsteps and sharp words.

“You need to get better control over your people,” Aemond is saying.

“Who even is she?! I know she’s not Aegon’s girlfriend. Aegon doesn’t have girlfriends.”

There is a gap of silence, and you wonder what Aemond will tell Shelby. She’s a fan, she’s an employee, she’s a groupie, she’s a slut. At last he says, drained: “She’s a therapist.”

“Oh, for you?”

And you can hear Aemond sigh through the door, perpetually a broken thing now, forever someone in need of being stitched back together; they got the flesh back in December, but the soul is still unmended.

You go to your suite, wash the night off of you, and pull on your Cookie Monster pajama pants and an oversized One Direction t-shirt. You can’t sleep yet; the pain in your wrist is too bad, the chaos in your mind is too loud. You take another pill from the bottle the doctor gave you and go out onto your balcony and sit in the sounds of Singapore past midnight: sparce traffic, buzzing cicadas, the ocean, the wind rocking the palm trees. When you hear the sliding glass door open, you aren’t sure who to expect: Aegon, Baela, Criston, Cregan, Jace. It is none of these people. It is Aemond. He stands there rigidly, like he hadn’t planned to get this far. He is in black—as usual—but he wears no sunglasses.

“Criston really needs to start keeping a closer eye on those extra room keys,” you say.

“I’m sorry about what happened tonight.”

“You don’t need to pretend to be worried about me. It’s fine, just leave.”

“I feel responsible.”

“I’m not someone you consider worthy of concern,” you say. “You want me to be honest with you? You want to keep a running list of my sins in your little black-paged notebook? Alright, sure. I’ve been hooking up with Aegon. Only after Reykjavik, and not…like…all the time or exclusively or anything. But occasionally. And I know exactly what you think of me and how I’ve chosen to live my life. So don’t come out here acting like you care when you clearly don’t.”

“I know what you told Shelby. I don’t…” He stares at you, a little mystified, a little grateful. “I don’t understand why you keep defending me after what I said.”

Because I believe you deserve better. And I care about you. And I can’t stop. And honestly it fucking sucks and so if you could just leave, that would be great. “That’s just what I do.”

You expect Aemond to go. Instead, he sits down in the other chair, lights one of his Benson & Hedges cigarettes, takes a drag and exhales smoke in a long, slow breath like a hushed confession. “I once asked what made you want to be a therapist.”

“And I didn’t tell you.”

“No.”

Your eyes list to him like a ship in a storm, groggy, clawing for purchase. “Do you still want to know?”

“I do.”

The night sounds like wind in clattering wet leaves, car horns and rolling tires, ocean waves, indistinct echoes of laughter like a memory. Aemond waits for you, patient, eternal, or at least so long-lived it’s practically the same thing. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you like this. You wonder why you can’t outrun what you feel for him, a curse or a spell or both tangled up together like veins beneath skin. “I had a boyfriend when I was in high school,” you say. “And I took pictures for him. Because he asked me to, yes, but also because I wanted to, because it made me feel desirable, and powerful, and like I was choosing to share something special with him. No one talked me into it, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. And when we broke up, he sent those pictures to his friends. And they sent them to their friends, and they sent them to their friends, and I’m sure you can do the math from there.”

Aemond doesn’t look disgusted or horrified or pitying. He looks furious, and not at you. “That’s illegal, right?”

“In some places, sure. In Missouri? Ten years ago?” You smirk cynically, shaking your head. “The only person anyone was condemning was me. And it wasn’t just the students. They said things, obviously. They wrote notes and they whispered. But it was the teachers too, and the parents, and the administrators. It was everyone. Staring at me. Talking about me like they understood who I was.” You meet Aemond’s eye. “And you called me a slut.”

He voice is hoarse. “I didn’t know.”

“But you still said it.”

“What I said…” he sighs shakily, rubbing his face with one hand. He crushes the end of his cigarette beneath his Adidas sneakers and then lights another. “What I said wasn’t a reflection on you or what you did with Aegon. That’s not what it was about. It was about me, it was about how I interpreted things, and…I mean, you get that, right? You know that. You’re a professional. I took what Aegon told everyone and I bounced it off a few mirrors and ran it through my filter of how I’ve been taught to believe the world operates, and that’s why I said what I did in Reykjavik. It wasn’t about you. It wasn’t true. And I could never express to you how sorry I am.”

Tell me the whole story, you think, you plead, watching him like parched earth looks for rain. That you were afraid my feelings for you weren’t real. That you wanted me then and you still want me now. That you’ve never wanted anything the way you want me. But that’s not what Aemond says.

“What happened next?” he asks gently.

“What do you think? I had to be homeschooled. I lost every friend I’d ever had. I was terrified to leave the farm and go anywhere…to Walmart, to McDonald’s, to 7-Eleven, anywhere. And my parents…they’re Southern Baptists, okay? They tried to be supportive. They really did. They didn’t shame me, and that alone was a huge leap for them, and I’m very grateful. But they had no idea how to talk to me about what had happened. What they did do was find someone else for me to talk to. She was a therapist, and she saved my life. And when I got into UChicago, I decided that the only thing I wanted to do was help people in the same way.”

“Why didn’t you stay in Chicago?” Aemond says, bewildered. “I mean, why would you go back to Kansas City after the way people treated you there? So fucking closed-minded and hypocritical and…and…and evil? You were a kid. You were a goddamn kid and they tried to destroy you. Why would you go back there? You could have gone anywhere else. You still can.”

“I considered it,” you admit. “But my family has lived in Missouri for almost 200 years. It was once a place of opportunity, somewhere for people who had nothing to carve out a piece of the world and make it their own. Why should I let anyone banish me without my permission? And besides, I think Missouri could use more people like me. I can make a difference there. Someone like me in Chicago or London or Los Angeles or New York or Miami? I’m a dime a dozen. In Missouri, I’m part of the change. In Missouri, I can save people like I was once saved.”

“Hmm,” Aemond says. And then he smiles at you, kind and tender. “Pretentious.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, shoving him with your uninjured hand: his deep, warm, rolling chuckle, his broad shoulders that barely give beneath your palm.

His eye flicks down to your One Direction t-shirt. “And a traitor.”

Want me to take it off? you almost say. Instead: “As if you don’t idolize them. As if you wouldn’t deign to have a favorite One Direction song.”

“I couldn’t divulge information as sensitive as that.”

“Aegon tells me you spend a lot of time brooding to The Script.”

Aemond groans, but good-naturedly. You got me, his face says, surrendering. “True.”

“What’s your go-to crying on the floor song? Breakeven? Nothing?”

“The Man Who Can’t Be Moved. But now you have to give me one in return.”

“If You Ever Come Back. A certified tragic bop.”

He nods, thoughtful. He slides his phone out of his pocket to check it.

“Sexts from Shelby?” you ask with undisguisable vitriol.

“No. Favorite Coldplay song?”

You remember that night with him in Rome: the concert, the motorcycle, the lingering in the hotel room doorway as you waited for him to ask to stay. “Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall. What’s yours? You strike me as a The Scientist stan.”

“Viva La Vida,” he counters.

Of course. “I used to rule the world,” you quote.

“Now the old king is dead, long live the king.” He looks out into the city, streetlights and ocean and wind, sounds of the planet you call home. Again, you think of Rome. “I should have kissed you,” he says softly.

Your heart stops like a car against a brick wall, glorious euphoric shattering. “What?”

“My favorite One Direction song. I Should Have Kissed You.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah, that’s great.”

“Yours?”

You have to think about this. At last you decide: “Through The Dark.”

“Ah. A deep cut.” Aemond checks his phone again. “Look up,” he tells you.

“Why…?”

“Right now. At the sky. Look up.”

You go to the balcony railing and peer up into the sea of darkness and moon and stars. And at first you don’t see anything extraordinary…but then you do. There’s a thin flash like white ink on black paper, tracing its way along the arc of the Earth. There’s a visitor, there’s a time traveler. “What is it?” you ask Aemond, entranced.

He gets up to stand alongside you. “The Perseids. A meteor shower that happens every summer. They’re difficult to spot from a city. Too bright, too much light pollution. There are hundreds, but here we’re lucky to glimpse one or two.”

“But they’re always there,” you muse, remembering what he told you in Rome about the comet that gave the band its name. “Whether we see them or not.”

Aemond points up at the faint silvery glimmer in the indigo night. “The Perseids are from a comet too. They’re debris left by Swift-Tuttle.”

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like Donati, does it? And no potential for cute donut merch.”

Aemond smiles. “Comet Swift-Tuttle is the largest object to cross Earth’s orbit so closely. Very, very closely. Luckly, it only swings by us every 133 years. It’s been called the single most dangerous object known to humanity.”

“I thought that was Jace.”

He bursts out laughing, gazing over at you with a face that in this moment he is unashamed of. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“I’m a universe away from Shelby, that’s for sure.”

Aemond’s smile dies. He clears his throat and puts out his cigarette. “I guess I should get going.”

“Yeah, I need to go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

He hesitates, he acts like he’s going to say more, he leaves you on the balcony as he retreats back to his own suite, his own life, his own past and future and secrets.

And before you crawl into your empty bed, you look up at the Perseids one last time as they hurtle through space and time and gravity, through a landscape of constellations that Aemond could tell you the names of, through the dark.

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #Aegon Targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #Aegon II Targaryen #Aegon Targaryen II x reader #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader

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credince--writes · 1 year

Text

Deep In Those Woods: Chapter 5

Keegan P. Russ x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

AO3

You find a strange man in the woods, no doubt running from the federation. He seems, well, in simple terms beat to shit. May your act of kindness not go unpunished.

A/N:

I'm BACCCCCKCKKKKKKK BABY. More Keegan content and I'm so sorry it's taken so long but it was a FUCKING STRUGGLE to pivot from the Keegan is a glorified injured vegetable so time skip to him being a bruised fruit! Thank you all for reading!

Tags:

@dindjarinsmeshla @tessxq @ladyvlolypop @tiny-kasper @konigsleftkidney @mykneeshurt @katsufairies

Days pass, and his condition improves. The bruises on his body begin to fade into dark purples and sickly yellows as the flesh tries to cope with the trauma and heal.

Pulling the clothes off the line and finally dressing the near-naked man who'd been camping out on your couch and floor for nearly two weeks.

When he'd needed to finally wash the one set of clothes he'd shown up in, you'd given him a few sets of your brother's clothing.

What were you doing?

Taking care of some stranger when your brother was out there- God knows where, maybe in danger.

Maybe he was dead-

You didn't want to think that.

He'd- much to your dismay- had begun wandering around the house. Almost like a misbehaving puppy, any time you would let the man out of your sight he would be somewhere he wasn't supposed to. Wandering around outside of the house, milling around as if he didn't truly believe he was alive.

Much of your time was dedicated to catching up on chores, tending to the garden, and making sure that your animals were alright. The never-ending list of maintenance to make sure that you would be alright- ensuring that you'd be able to survive.

It was getting hotter, even now, earlier in the day- before the sun rose high enough to signal it being noon, sweat beaded on your forehead. Humidity be damned, the bright blue sky with little puffy white clouds dotting the sky and the bright, burning sun warmed the surrounding land.

"Where is my radio?"

Keegan's voice startles you, nearly jumping out of your skin ten feet into the air. You'd never heard his footsteps approaching, you didn't know that even if you were listening for them you'd be able to. You were wrist deep in a garden bed pulling out weeds from between your plants, the little green shoots sprouting up and around into dainty little green ladders reaching for sunlight.

"Fuck!" Little bits of the soil fly up into the air as your hands reach up on instinct from the scare. "What? What do you want?" The anxiety shines clear through your voice, desperately looking at the quiet man for an explanation.

He'd been doing this shit to you for days.

Hiding behind in the shadows, popping out and asking you for something small, minuscule, irrelevant.

And scare the shit out of you in the process.

You didn't have his fucking radio.

Did you?

You'd have to look.

You sigh in defeat, brushing off any remnants of dirt from your hands and washing them off in a bucket next to you.

"If I help you look, will you stop asking about it?" You ask.

He nods in response.

With a grumble, you get up off of your knees and leave your task in the garden forgotten. Trailing back into the house with the man in tow- hitting the door and making a break to grab the items you'd pulled off of him in his gear.

He still hovered behind you, watching intently as you dragged the bag out and started searching through it. Pulling out his vest, then various knives, empty magazines...

Then your hands wrapped around the dinged and damaged black plastic.

"Here?" You pulled it out, the antenna snapped off, hesitantly handing the broken radio to him and leaning back onto your hands and sitting flat on your bottom. "It's broken."

Keegan grasps the radio, looking at you and without even speaking, saying 'I can tell'. He smacks the radio a few times against his hand, letting out of huff of disapproval before turning and walking into the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" You stand, following him into the kitchen as he opens a drawer and pulls out a fork, turning it onto the radio and starting to pop off little plastic pieces until the guts of the little machine were exposed to his eyes. "You know, I could grab you a screwdriver- you don't need to use my forks."

"It worked, didn't it?" He asks, taking a step over and wincing as he bends to the side.

He'd never admit it, but he was still hurt.

He'd bare through it, if it was up to him.

"You need to sit." You gasped out, reaching for his arm. Your hand wrapped around his bicep in an attempt to get his attention back on you while you tried to lead him to a chair. His body stiffened underneath your touch as your fingers grasped onto the muscle of his arm.

"I'm fine." He replied bluntly, turning back to the radio. Widening his stance but making no move to remove your hand.

You faltered for a moment, hesitantly releasing your hand- the feeling of warmth from both of your skin touching dissipating into the air around you. Moving back and sitting down in the chair you'd originally tried to get Keegan to sit down in, you watched.

Watched as he messed with the radio, inspecting the electronics for things you couldn't see- things you didn't understand.

"Do you think you can fix it?" You ask, curling up into the chair, pulling your legs up to you, and crossing them. Resting your arm on the counter and intently watching as he once again took your fork to poke and prod at the internals.

"More than likely." He replied, a calm, quiet tone as he leaned more of his body weight into the counter.

You were sure it was because his ribs were bothering him.

He'd never admit it.

But, they were.

Any time you had tried to question the man in the last few days- once he'd become considerably more lucid- on why he had been out in your neck of the woods. Where he would've been injured- you hadn't come into contact with any Federation, well, ever.

You didn't tell him that part.

For all he knew, you had them fertilizing the orchard.

But any attempt you had made had quickly been spun around and shot down. Pivoting into new conversation or him picking apart your questions until you no longer wanted to be around him.

"Why were you out here?" You questioned him, hand gripped onto the counter as you held a knife in your other hand. Half an onion behind you- staring up at the ceiling furiously blinking to get the tears out of your eyes.

"That's classified, princess." The slight drawl of his voice, the southern twang in his words as he threw in the princess just to get on your nerves.

He'd gone through a few other nicknames-

Sweetheart, Angel.

But he knew that Princess struck a nerve in you. The sassy bastard tactically threw it into a sentence whenever he wanted you to lose your footing.

"Classified?" You'd asked, groaning. "Give me a break, I drag you out of a creek, nurse you back to health the least you could do is tell me why you were out here."

"If I told you I'd have to kill you." He replied, a smug grin curling up on the edges of his lips.

"And all I'd have to do is hit you in the ribs." You bit back.

"Oh, come on. That's fighting a little dirty don't you think?" He tilted his head in question. His large hands opened and pressed against his chest before hissing and wincing.

Your head snaps over at the sound of his pain. "Are you alright?" You ask, concern laced into not only your words but your features.

"Don't worry about me Princess, I'm just a little tender."

You hadn't really thought about what would happen if the radio started working again- he wasn't exactly in the best shape to be heading back off the mountain to presumably around the same place he'd been injured in the first place.

"Are you trying to talk to your team?" You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Keegan looks at you for a moment, as if debating on releasing the smallest bit of information.

And he nods, once.

Yes.

"Are they here too?" You question, picking at a stray thread at the end of your t-shirt. Anxiously trying to navigate the conversation- keeping him responding while feeding you little crumbs of information.

"No. I came here alone."

You hum in acknowledgment. Resting your elbow against the counter, your chin into your hand, watching him glare at the broken electronic.

"Dosen't seem very smart to come out here by yourself." You reply, finally standing and grabbing your bottle of water and taking a sip. Pointing out what you felt to be a major flaw in his logic.

He was just one man.

"Could say the same about you." He replied, setting the radio down on the table and turning to look at you.

Your posture stiffened, grip tightening on the bottle.

"I wasn't always alone."

Keegan's face was stoic- but for a moment, for a fraction of a second, she could see something flicker in his eyes. As if he were asking for more- to know.

To care.

"My-" You falter for a moment. "My brother, he left... Four months? Maybe Five- I don't even know how long he has been gone- before I found you. He went to go investigate something weird a few miles away from here"

You take in a shaky breath.

"He never came back..." You look out the window, watching a chicken scratch at the earth and peck. "I know he can handle himself- but he's never been gone this long. And he told me to not come looking if he didn't come back- we all know what would happen if I was found."

Keegan listened, intently. And he understood, even with the disgust rising in the back of his throat at the thought.

"What was he investigating?" He asked.

"There are these... erm." You pause. "Fires- on the four mountains. They are other settlements, other farmers, and even maybe a town now on one of them. The smoke from the fires means either something is really, really wrong, or they had made contact with the government- that people were here to protect and save some of us." Your grasp your arm anxiously, rubbing at the skin. "So he went to investigate- but didn't come back."

He nodded, steel blue eyes fixed to your own.

"I just..." You trailed off.

"Want to make sure he's ok?" Keegan finished.

"Yea." You nodded. "Or at least have some closure. Sometimes just knowing- as much as it'd hurt. To know he is dead, would be better than to wait- to expect."

"I'll help you." His voice was soft- quiet. As if his words came out just above a whisper.

"Why?" You questioned.

“Keegan, you’re safe alright?”

He was silent, glancing around the cabin as if he hadn’t really looked at it before. “You took me in?”

“Y… Yea?” You questioned, wondering if it was the wrong thing to say. “You were hurt…”

“Why are you helping me?” The question left, the exhale of his words and the dissipation of them into the silent room-filling little cracks in the walls with a deep voice you’d only heard of in the books you kept by your bedside.

“You were hurt, and you needed help.” You explained carefully, eyes focused on his hand still locked onto your arm.

Keegan stared, mouth opening and trying to speak but nothing coming out- his mind rushing a million miles a minute.

"Because you owe me?" You teased.

He releases a breath. "Yea, Princess. Because I owe you."

#Call of Duty #Keegan P Russ x reader #Keegan Russ x Reader #Call of Duty Ghosts #Deep In Those Woods

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mj2606k · 10 months

Text

A Gift From Eywa

Chapter 1 - A Second Chance Granted

This chapter starts out in a flashback, which will be italicized. Once it’s not italicized anymore it’s no longer a flashback.

Na’vi words will be in italics and blue

A lot of the recoms are probably going to be very OOC, I just write them how I interpret them and their personalities.

Miles Quaritch crawled out of the ocean onto the small island, bloodied and coughing violently as he choked up water and gasped for much-needed air. He turned to look at Spider with confusion written all over his face, before Cupcake flew down to land on the island with them. Quaritch hauled himself up onto his feet with a groan and stumbled his way over to his ikran (banshee), connecting his queue to it's own before turning to look at his son. The pair talked momentarily before Spider turned and went back into the ocean, ignoring Quaritch's pleads behind him as his head disappeared under the water and he swam off. With another pained grunt, Quaritch climbed up onto the ikran's back and stared at the place his son had gone underwater for a moment before mentally instructing Cupcake to lift off and fly away, back in the direction of the forest.

It had taken Quaritch many days to get back to the Pandoran forest, having to stop at least once a day to find food and drinkable water for him and his ikran, but once he got there he was quick to put as much distance between himself and the RDA headquarters. His remaining human instincts told him to go back to the one place he was most familiar with on this cursed planet, the one place he would be at least some form of safe, but his survival instincts told him the truth, which was to stay as far away from the humans as possible. Getting an RDA ship sunk would get him in enough trouble on it's own, but once the General learnt that he had failed the mission and Jake Sully and his family had once again escaped? Quaritch knew he would be as good as dead, and he also knew not to put it past anyone in that place to put a bullet between his eyes the instant that Ardmore gave the order. So he told Cupcake to take him away, to fly deep into the mountains until he was sure the humans would never find him; he'd already dug the tracking device out of his bicep on the way back to the forest.

It's another few days of being on his own with nothing and nobody for companionship other than his ikran, when one day while hunting for food he finds Lyle, who had found Mansk and Zdinarsk together only a day prior. They discuss what had happened since the battle with the Metkayina (Reef People) and the Sullys and all come to the shared conclusion that none of them would ever be returning to the RDA. So over the next week they do their best to make a home for themselves; Lyle had designated himself as the one to build their shelter, so while he spent his days chopping down small trees to make a hut and weaving large leaves together to make a roof and new clothing for them all, Quaritch and Z-Dog decided to make themselves responsible for gathering, hunting down, and killing food. Then whether they brought back another small animal or a few fruits that they'd managed to collect and deem safe to eat, Mansk would cook their findings over a fire until they were ready to be eaten.

Everything seemed to be going well for them despite their situation for another two weeks, before Z-Dog was unable to find any more fruit that they were completely sure was edible, and the wildlife around their small camp had grown used to Quaritch and were able to easily avoid his hunting since he was only able to use his knife, which meant only close-distance kills that required the element of surprise. The group of recoms had even begun discussing the possibility of rejoining the RDA, weighing their options on which way they were more likely to survive, but one day while out on a hunt together Zdinarsk and Quaritch found something that instantly gave them hope. They returned to their small camp to tell the others of their findings and they all agreed to go back the following day, and when they did they were greeted by a group of warriors from the well-hidden clan they had found in the mountains.

The warriors took the group to the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, who through desperate pleading in broken Na'vi they had all been granted uturu (sanctuary) by and were handed over to the clan healers, who took them to the healing caves and cleaned their few wounds, applying ointment and numbing paste where it was needed before taking them to the elder women of the clan. The group of recoms were given real new Na'vi clothing and while Z-Dog assured Lyle that the three of them all thought he still did a wonderful job on the clothing he made, all four of them internally agreed that the real clothing was much better than what Lyle had managed to sloppily stitch together with stretchy vines and large tough leaves. The elders took each of them to separate parts of the cave to change into their new clothing, then once they were done they managed to communicate to the recoms that their new teachers would show up soon to begin teaching them and helping them settle into the clan, and the ladies were right! Less than half an hour passed before a tall Na'vi male appeared in the healers cave, helping a woman who was clearly heavily pregnant over the slight step down into the cave. Despite the man looking and seeming very wise for his years and the woman being so heavily pregnant, they both assured the recoms that they were actually in their early 20s, much like the recombinants themselves.

The group was only slightly surprised when the pair began speaking to them in near-perfect English, despite their heavy accents hinting to the fact that they were not native speakers of the language. The male stepped forward and offered a hand out to Quaritch, a smile on his face as he spoke, "I am Rawm, a gatherer in our clan. I believe this is a handshake, a form of greeting, yes?" With a small chuckle Quaritch nodded before taking the hand offered to him and shaking it, then Rawm reached and shook hands with Mansk, Lyle, and Z-Dog as well. As Rawm began explaining basic customs of the tribes to the recoms, Quaritch felt his attention shifting to the pregnant woman, who had yet to speak other than the initial greeting when they walked into the cave. She looked very zoned out, one hand resting against her lower back as she stared at the empty wall past the recombinants' bodies, her other hand absentmindedly rubbing over her large stomach. He just studied her quietly until she suddenly visibly winced and let out a soft groan of pain, catching the attention of the other four Na'vi as well as the attention of one of the healers further back in the cave.

The healer hurried over quickly, gently directing the woman to the opposite side of the cave before helping her lay down on an angled rock slab that was padded with some sort of mat woven out of soft vines. Quaritch watched the exchange as the woman and healer talked to each other quietly in Na'vi before the healer helped her drink a slightly chunky mixture out of a bowl that made her make a face of disgust. Noticing the lack of Rawm going and checking on the woman, he turned his attention to him before speaking, "Shouldn't you be checking on your.. wife?" He asked Rawm, watching as he puzzled over his words for a moment before smiling again as he responded, "I suppose a "wife" is one of those human words for a mate? Allìra is not my mate, she is my youngest sister. She has, or.. had, a mate a few months ago, but he was sadly lost in a battle with a different clan. She carries their only child, and she is not far from giving birth." He explains to us all, all the men nodding in understanding before they turned to watch Zdinarsk walk over cautiously, gently placing a hand on the woman, Allìra's shoulder and giving her a soft reassuring smile when she looked up at her.

Allìra smiled back softly, grateful for her comfort as she brings up a hand to gently pat at Z's before carefully fully laying back on the mat, rolling onto her side with help from both the healer and Z-Dog before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep, clearly physically exhausted at the work her body was putting into the small life forming inside her.

Quaritch couldn't help but feel his heart stutter slightly as he watched her drift off, his face not showing it but he felt extremely bad for the girl; she was still so young and she would have to go through the birth and the raising of this child on her own.

#mj2606k #avatar the way of water #mj2606kwrites #avatar ikran #avatar #na’vi avatar #avatar writer #avatar 2009 #a gift from Eywa #avatar recoms #recom squad #recom quaritch #miles quaritch #recom lyle wainfleet #recom mansk #recom zdinarsk #recom zdog

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000marie198 · 1 year

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Hmm, I wonder what's the possibility of Mangey actually inventing something; like a fruit launcher, poison dart shooter or something, before or after meeting Nine? Since he's the least technological of the Tailses.

Mangey lives in a world that's empty of technology and objects he could use to build anything. He had fruits and leaves earlier but he had no example to follow, he was just digging, digging, digging. He likes digging, because he's a fox and foxes are excellent diggers and they like digging for dens or food. He's also a skilled finder. His mental capabilities didn't have a use to survive in that world so he adapted without realizing it earlier. Quick adaptation is another sign of intelligence. Also, he's a child. He was taken in by people who themselves aren't really smart. I mean, most of them didn't even know what a proper shelter is. Mangey grew up learning nothing from his environment that could be similar to how the other Tails are. Give him something to be curious about, something to analyze and dismantle and figure out and fix like a puzzle and he'd learn. His mental development was nonexistent.

But Mangey isn't stupid.

Did you see his eyes in the trailer. He is intelligent. Feral but still very intelligent. He just doesn't have the type of friends and environment that could bring out and polish his smarts. He didn't even know he could fly till Sonic taught him. Kid is smart because he can track things, he's also very instinctively intuitive as he hides immediately if he senses danger and clings to those he knows would protect him (curling up in Hangry's arm, clinging to Sonic, not Prim or Gnarly) and scavenge any food like others cannot. He's also the only one who first tried to approach Thorn and apologize when the girl was open and willing to make peace with the Scavengers. Not to mention he has been forced to starve alongside the others for so long. Everyone in Boscage had gone a little nuts. No civilization around, no technology, no other landscape and a thick overgrown jungle. The circumstances turned him into what he needed to be to be able to survive there. Smart inventive Tails wouldn't have survived there, feral Tails with amplified fox instincts and senses would have.

Also, I believe Mangey is very smart, he just needs something to tingle his inventive and curious side. Something he'd see and try to figure out. Some of us headcanon that Mangey is really good at disassembling things. If he has someone to teach him and guide him, if he has something to puzzle with, he'd be able to do it. I bet if he watches something unique and effective in action, he'll be the first one to build it. Mangey would never change from being how he is but his smarts can be brought out. Meeting Nine is sure to have an effect. On both of them.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #miles tails prower #sonic prime #sonic prime mangey #mangey tails #mangey the fox #sonic prime nine #tails nine #nine the fox #i can also bet it was the others who named him Mangey. he didn't choose that name himself. he just went with it like 1 does with a nickname

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mimikoflamemaker · 8 months

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Faerunian Writing Challenge - Day 1

What was Tav doing when they were abducted?

The acrid smell of piss permeating the narrow alleyways was one of the things Neve definitely didn’t find charming about the cities like Baldur’s Gate. It wasn’t like she had to lurk around as she did now, but she grew up around such places. And she knew that, if one knew where to step, the… less palatable insides of the city could provide both, a convenient shortcut and a route decidedly safer for one’s possessions, as surprising as that might sound.

And Neve needed all the safety of the familiar passageways; the many hidden pockets of her outfit were weighted down by coin – carefully earned, stolen and put away, now amounting to a small fortune. It was enough to buy oneself a comfortable life even in the Upper City.

Well, it would be once she picks up the rest of the money from her stash. And if she was at liberty to do with it whatever she wished.

Instead she was about to give the fruit of the years of hard work to the last person she wished to get anything more out of her. And to think, she had once thought that Alven had actually loved her. That she could build a better life for herself next to him.

She felt disgust, squeezing her throat shut at the mere memory of her stupidity.

The only person Alven loved was himself. His crime empire. And the Dark Net. She was, at best, a handy asset to have – as much as he could make her feel like so much more whenever she wanted. And she was finally on the brink of buying back her contract.

By the time the evening bells sound, she would be free to go wherever she wanted. Do whatever she pleased.

The price she had to pay for that didn’t seem that high, when she thought about it. The idea filled her with something she could only describe as giddiness. Until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a store-window.

She took in her carefully done hair. Meticulously applied make up. Even her outfit –an expensive leather armor with a lot of silver gilding – everything was a ruse. She was coming to gain back her freedom and she still looked like the favored accessory Alven liked to keep at his side. A lace-covered blade that was both a concealed advantage and a way to flaunt his status just a little bit more. People rarely saw her as more when she was with him, even when she could hit a coin thrown into the air from fifty paces with either an arrow or a carefully aimed dagger.

Neve regarded the woman staring at her from the glass. She knew her well – hiding behind false pleasantries and holding little warmth for anybody, save perhaps the street urchins. Did she remember the other one? The one kept hidden for her own good?

Looking at her reflection now, she wasn’t so certain.

A loud crash cut her musings short. Neve looked around, ready to either pounce or run and watched, caught by her own shock as the bell tower fell apart, raining debris onto the streets, crushed by a huge tentacle attached to an even larger vessel blotting out the sky and coming frighteningly closer by a second. A flying ship she never thought she would see, except maybe in a nightmare.

Screams finally kicked her instincts into action and she bolted down the way she came from. If only she could disappear into those familiar looking shadows, maybe find an unlatched door and slip into a basement somewhere, she should be safe.

But she wasn’t the only one running for safety. People blocked her way, shoved at each other interested in nothing, except their own survival. Neve did her best to weave between them, similarly uncaring of the fact that shoving someone to the side likely cut their chances into nothing. She didn’t come all this way to be buried under some rubble now.

Except the tentacles seemed to no longer be interested in laying waste to the buildings. They were coming after people. Hunting them. And they were closing in fast.

Neve saw a man running in front of her being snatched up, screaming, before disappearing into a flash of something that looked like a portal. Except portals were usually glowing. This was just a tear in the fabric of reality filled with back so deep it seemed to swallow the light.

Someone’s elbow struck her side, hard, throwing her off balance. She caught a glimpse of a curly red hair and a broad back, clad in the Flaming Fist armor right before the slimy appendage wrapped around her hips and yanked her off her feet.

Into darkness.

#bg3 #bg3ficfeb #baldur's gate 3 #tav #well this at least gave me a reason to work on some of the ideas bouncing around in my head

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nanesuma · 1 year

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Hello journal, nice to meet you!

It's been about a week since I woke up here

I’ve decided to start writing in this journal to help me keep track of events and the timeline of what my life is now... I hope moms okay I wonder if she's worried not like I really reached out much. I’m not sure what month or year it is here and I lost track of time a lot back home. It’s been tough compared to my old life of wallowing alone but I already feel better I always thought I was more of a feral human it seems I was right the sky’s orange here which doesn't make sense since the sun’s still yellow but its kind of relaxing, my tinnitus is gone too although im not sure why. I think this world is going to be better for me in the long run

Here's everything different I've found about this world::

The sun is still yellow but the sky is a pale orange, the night sky is still mostly black but you can really see everything, it’s beautiful. There are new constellations to mark and it seems there's a north star here too, at least I assume its north I really have no way to know it seems there are no other humans here so I dont have to worry about my directions being wrong to others atleast

It is barren of cities, it's nice but off-putting sometimes once you’ve lived around thousands of faces every day it's hard to come to terms with the fact that everything you know is gone I haven’t wondered too far from my cave after the first day here I hope there's something sentient here or I might not be sane forever

Vegetation is largely the same, the leaves are a little different and the fruits tend to be sweeter but nothing huge.

Most of the same animals are here too although I've seen some new species im not sure what to make of them. Some are horrifying and probably lethal…

I’ve also found slimes are here and quite easily tamed they are very in tune with predators and have helped me stay alive so far all I need to do is give them food and they seem to be fine living in my cave

The trees are thick but there are some random patches of empty land, I’ve been worried to step there it might be some kind of trap door spider or worse, the sticks and rocks I've tossed yielded nothing but im not risking my life this early in

The air is so fresh, and everything about me has sped up to some degree it might be the survival instincts in me or the fact you can smell everything so strongly I wonder how these plants survive in such fresh carbonless air, I can't complain myself though

Magic is here, real magic the stuff I've dreamt of since I was a kid and it’s ridiculously intuitive like I was built for it or rather it was built for me. That's how I created this book and this paper, I wonder if I could print images too

Overall this seems like the ideal world for me I just wish it was the one I was born in, boredom's harder to fight I dont even have books to read

Today I managed to hunt some kind of boar and thanks to magic starting a fire was easy, the 2 slimes (I haven't named them yet) ate most of the bones which was a shock, they don't digest things normally my best guess is they immediately break down everything inside them and store it somehow.

Tomorrow I think I’m going to start mapping the area out I’m sure there's some way to measure distance with magic for an accurate map hopefully I can draw with spells too or it'll be messy

Plans for the map:

Scout around the forest as much as I can until afternoon maybe I could try wind magic to fly up and get a better view

I’ll mark everything down as I go

To whoever may find this -Nanesuma

#isekai #creative writing #fun

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 2 years

Note

Grian and Gem have a tea club. They get together once a month to chat and try new blends with a full English tea service in the craziest spot they can think of. They've done it on top of trees, in geodes, in nether fortresses, on flying machines.

It started as a gimmick, but soon became a survival instinct, because once Scar is aware of these parties, he becomes absolutely hellbent on gatecrashing.

If you've never had "Hawkeye!" be the last thing you hear before your teacup is shot out of your hand by an arrow, Grian envies you. Gem has been able to avoid the same fate so far, but her scones are never so lucky. Scar does know he can just ask to be invited, right? He doesn't have to lurk over there behind that chorus fruit watching them? Come on, buddy. They made you a third cup of tea. It's getting cold.

~ Mod Shade

#geminitay #grian #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #mod shade

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ingoinghost · 2 years

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Ingo's sense of taste has been going recently.

"Strange," he mumbles, withdrawing the water skin from his lips and tilting his head back to inspect it. "Do you think I could have contaminated my blood supply somehow?"

Gliscor flicks its eyes from side to side, looking for whoever else its partner expects to answer. They are the only ones present save for the wild Zubat towards the back of the cave of course, and Gliscor ends up giving its best impression of a confused, helpless shrug.

Ingo hums. He taps a finger to his chin in thought.

"I didn't think I could get sick. Did you?"

"Krrrsssttt?" Gliscor hisses. It lifts its pincers to its head and lets them flop sideways, as if to say "How should I know?"

Ingo sighs.

"Another mystery lost to me, then. Guess we will never know."

Gliscor pins its ears flat back against its head in displeasure.

Ingo stares at the half-full water skin. He moves his wrist in a circle, stirring the contents. His frown deepens; conflicted.

"I think... I may have a hunch, actually. I can only hope I'm wrong. Consuming wild Pokémon blood is bad enough. No offense! I feel guilty for doing so, is what I mean to say. But I really don't want to have to..."

Gliscor cries out in alarm as Ingo suddenly downs the rest of the blood in one swift movement, flaring its wings and leaping forward to steal the water skin. Ingo easily keeps Gliscor at bay with one hand pressing against its head.

"While I am heartened by your concern, I must insist I am quite alright," Ingo huffs, quietly amused by the bat-scorpion's flailing pincers. He lowers the empty water skin before he lets his hand fall, and Gliscor promptly snatches it up and tears it to shreds.

"Gliscor!" Ingo exclaims, dismayed. "That was completely unnecessary - gah!"

Gliscor pauses, strips of leather caught between its pincers as it watches its partner slap his hand to his mouth. The other clutches his stomach, and Ingo's unnaturally bright eyes widen in shock as he hunches over, already sickly skin somehow both paling and bruising a shade further.

"Vvvrrss - ?"

Ingo heaves, lurching forward to throw up a mouthful of blood. It splatters against the cave floor, bright and nauseating and red. Gliscor shrieks, bolting into the air and instinctively starting up a racket that scares the wild Zubat out from the rafters and fleeing into the daytime sky.

Ingo looks stricken.

"Nocturnal passengers must keep their wings and tails inside the car at all day-times - !"

Another mouthful of blood cuts him off, and Gliscor winces.

Oh, Almighty Sinnoh, it is not trained for this. What in the Dark World Emissary's six hells is it supposed to do with a blood-vomiting monster-human? Lady Sneasler is going to be so mad with it.

The steadily growing puddle of blood is distressingly more than the amount Ingo had previously consumed. The warden shudders, ivory Seviper's teeth caked red as he clenches his jaw, fighting against his own body and trembling from the pain. It takes Gliscor all its restraint not to force an oran berry down his throat.

Ingo coughs and splutters. A thick glob of the stuff gets caught in his teeth, and the noise he makes is so loud and, well, bloodcurdling, that even the alpha Crobat in Wayward Cave would surely fly straight into a wall to hear it.

Gliscor peels itself off the stone it mindlessly flung itself into to huddle against its miserable partner. It can provide some source of comfort whilst Ingo retches and trembles and cries over the lost fruits of a successful hunt, right?

Ingo doesn't seem terribly aware Gliscor is even there.

"Rrrssst?"

There's a long, drawn-out groan. A painful hacking to clear a clogged throat. One last, full-bodied shudder.

The involuntary purge finally stops.

Gliscor titters impatiently.

A weary sigh.

"I was right," Ingo eventually manages through his mouth full of icepicks. He looks defeated. "I can't survive like this. I need human blood. Ha..."

Ingo lists sideways. It's a good thing, then, that Gliscor is ready to catch its pathetic little Glameow-meow of a partner as Ingo's eyes roll back in his head as he passes out in a dead faint.

He's surprisingly heavy for someone as thin as a rail.

Almighty Sinnoh's tits, Gliscor thinks.

#submas #subway boss ingo #subway master nobori #gliscor #pokemon legends arceus #pla #fanfiction #my writing #tw: vomiting #tw: emetophobia #vampire ingo

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years

Text

Lost & Found (Yunho/Pirate au!/smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

Tag list: @wooyoungiesdaisy @brrrrpolar @224-12 @pancakes-for-teddy @wannatinyus @amultislifeforme

Pirate!Yunho + fem!pirate! reader

Story Tags: Pirate au! Friends to lovers au! kidnapping, Aged up Ateez (slightly other members) cursing, fighting, explosions, directed by michael bay, smut, kinda angsty, mentions of a brothel, explicit language

Smut Tags: Fondling, male oral receiving, female oral receiving, fingering, slightly dom! Yunho (kinda), unprotected sex 👉👈

Word count: 10699 (she’s very long)

A/N: I think we know by now that I have a too much gene and can’t write short stories.

“Get back here!” His voice rang from behind you as you ran. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dodged the working crew members. The sound of his boots on the wood close behind you. “Watch out.” One of the crew members grumbled as you zoomed past him, barely missing him.

You couldn’t help but laugh and look behind you, Yunho hot on your tail. Only for your foot to get caught on some rope and for you to go flying into the wooden deck. “I got you now!” He yelled, staddling your waist as you laid on the floor. He was laughing and you were too. It was such a relief to have someone like him to hang out with.

Yunho’s fingers tickled over your sides and you squirmed around trying to avoid them before letting out a deep sigh. “Fine. I surrender.” You said, raising your hands and revealing what he was chasing you for in the first place.

“The ship would be in shambles if you two were left in charge.” Your father’s voice boomed from the deck behind you both. “She stole my apple.” Yunho explained, taking the fruit from your hands and taking a bite. “Sorry captain, for the ruckus.” Yunho said, still sitting on you. Kicking your legs and squirming, you tried to push him off of you but to no avail.

Yunho enjoyed it too much really. He thought you were ridiculously cute and just loved teasing you so much. He was the second youngest on the ship, it was just nice to have you there too.

“Big arse, get off of me.” You stuttered, shoving the older male slightly. You both got up off the floor of the deck and your father laughed at how disheveled you looked. Yunho blinked innocently, munching on his apple as your father dusted you off.

“Sometimes you two remind me of your mother and I when we first met.” Your father said and pinched your cheeks. “All this teasing just because you like eachother. So funny.” Your father said softly and both of your eyes went wide. “I don’t like him!” You said and pouted, looking at Yunho with disgust all to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

“I don’t like her either.” Yunho said with a small laugh, looking at your face. He was head over heels for you, but judging by your face you really didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever you say.... Yunho when you’re done with that apple Seonghwa could use some help below deck.” Your father said and Yunho nodded. “Yes, captain.” He nodded and left the deck. You watched him walk away and crossed your arms over your chest.

You did like him, you liked him alot. Ever since your father had brought him on board of the “Desire” you had been inseperable. He was your best friend and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you might have even loved him.

“One day, you two will look back on this and say: He was right.” Your father said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe, but not right now.” You said and turned to him.

Your father may have been a pirate, but he never left you wanting for a thing. He taught you how to read, write, how to take care of yourself and protect yourself. Regardless of the situation, your father did his best with what the cards had dealt him.

You walked below deck as the night fell, seeing Seonghwa and Yunho pushing crates around and stacking them. “I’ll help from here, Seonghwa. You go grab some dinner.” You said and the older male smiled at you. “Alright.”

Talking to your father made you realise how silly you both were being. You liked him and you thought he might like you too. Even if he didn’t, things really couldn’t get awkward between you two. Where was he going to go to avoid you? You were in the middle of the ocean.

“Why are you helping me?” Yunho asked, raising his eyebrow. “Because I can. Don’t act like I do nothing around here.” You said and helped him push a crate into a corner. “No you do a lot. But I thought you didn’t like me?” He teased, leaning against a wall and looking at you. Perching yourself on top of the crate, you kicked out your legs back and forth. You were nervous.

“You know that’s not true.” You said softly and Yunho perked up. Was this happening?

“You know I like you. You know I like you a lot.” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt. The atmosphere in the room was warm, maybe because the only light in the room came from a small oil lamp hanging above your heads. Finally looking up, you could see Yunho’s eyes sparkling.

“I like you too. I like you a lot.” He said softly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He had never done this before. Coming closer to you, Yunho grabbed one of your hands. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel his ears burning red.

You looked at eachother, just simply watched eachother. Taking in eachother’s features mainly because you were both too painfully awkward to say something. It was just you two and the sound of the waves outside.

Until it wasn’t. The sounds of gunshots and canons quickly filled the air and you and Yunho let go of eachother. “What was that?” You asked, pushing off of the crate and heading towards the stairs. “I have no idea.” The male said, grabbing your hand and following you out onto the deck.

There was a ship next the “Desire” and planks connecting the two. The crew was fighting the intruders, the sound of guns, canons and swords filling the air. You could see your father fighting and Yunho instinctively pulled you back slightly.

You both drew your swords, not knowing what to do but knowing that just standing there was more dangerous.

Arms wrapped around your waist and knocked your sword out of your hand. Panic swallowed up your body and you started to kick, scream and shake at the same time. The culprit’s face was covered, all of their faces were covered. The enemy wasn’t identifiable, not even by the black sails on their ship.

Yunho turned to see you being pulled away, and started panicking himself. “Y/N!” He yelled, garnering your father’s attention from the other side of the deck. Yunho ran pushing people out of the way as you continued to fight your agressor. You didn’t realise it until it was too late but the man was dragging you to the plank connecting the ships.

“YUNHO!” You screamed, still trying to reach out to him or to anyone that could help you. You weren’t winning, he was a lot stronger than you. Yunho was so close, your outstretched hand being centimeters away from his. Your father was close behind

However your heart stopped, watching another masked figure grab Yunho and drive his sword into his stomach. You couldn’t remember if you screamed, you couldn’t remember if you cried out or if your body gave out watching him fall to the deck practically lifeless.

But before you knew it, you were on their ship and the planks had fallen into the ocean and disconnecting the two ships. Thrown to the floor of the deck. You were numb, speechless, scared and heartbroken. You had been stripped of everything you knew in a matter of minutes.

- 5 years later-

Surely you were going to die. This was it, you were sure of it. You could practically feel the ship breaking apart around you. But you weren’t scared, you had been living a life of misery and if it was your time to go, you were ready.

Or so you thought, but the second a canonball tore through the wood a few feet from where you were standing, your fight or flight senses took over. You weren’t even thinking as you ran onto the deck, your senses being filled with yells, screams, the waves and the canons. Your captors were incredibly preoccupied, not noticing your scrambling onto the deck in hopes of finding a way to survive this.

Captain Richards was warned by his crew that these waters were dangerous, ships appearing and disappearing in the middle of the night all supposedly looking for the same thing. Utopia.

But he disregarded them, claiming ‘he knew what he was doing’ and that ‘if they disagreed so much, going overboard was their other option’ you only heard about the journey ahead because of his crewmates being below deck and bickering over it. You were wishing the evil Captain would have had enough sense to listen to his crew, now you might actually die because of it.

Splinters were flying around you as you tried finding a way out, but you were in the middle of the ocean and being shot at. Your choices were slim and you knew this was probably the end.

You paused for a moment, feeling the deck underneath you starting to rip apart. Coupled with the screams of crew mates, you felt yourself start to fall and yet all you could think about was your father, Yunho and the crew that was your family.

Oh Yunho, sweet, sweet Yunho. If everything would’ve stayed the same, that could’ve become something. But you were almost 100% sure he was dead and the thought that you would see him soon after you passed comforted you as you hit the cold, black water.

“Y/N? Y/N.” His voice filled your ears and boy, did you miss that voice. “Yunho?” You could hear him, but you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see anything except for black and you couldn’t feel anything except for the water in your lungs. “Yunho?” You called out again, feeling an intense pressure on your chest. “Yunho?!” You were yelling but you weren’t sure if any sound was coming out.

Were you alive? You absolutely could not tell. You only felt panic as you felt yourself the pressure in your chest becoming unbarable and your mind slowly starting to shut down.

Until it felt like a thousand point weight was lifted off of you, a loud gasp coming from your lungs as you coughed out water onto a wooden deck... a wooden deck?

Your vision was blurry, the edges of your sight laced with black as you turned your head slowly. It felt like your body weighed a ton, your actions being in slow motion as you held onto the deck for dear life. Blinking furiously and trying to get a grip on the fact that you were as a matter of fact, not dead.

You finally lifted your head, trying to gather your surroundings only to be greeted by sparkling eyes. Horribly familiar, horribly beautiful eyes that surely meant you were dead. “Yunho?” Your voice was weak before your arms gave out and your eyes shut once more. You were definitely dead, there was no other explanation.

Yunho stared at your lifeless body on the deck, completely frozen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, he almost forgot to breathe. He only remembered to breathe whenever he watched you cough up a large amount of seawater, thanks to Seonghwa’s help. Yunho was too shocked to do anything, then the shock turned to pure fear that you might have been dead.

“Yunho?” Your voice made him shudder as he looked at you, eyes locking for a moment. You looked dazed and confused, hair sticking to your face and your clothes soaking wet. You looked so scared and it broke his heart. But then you collapsed again, any strength that you had managed to gather disappearing.

“Y/N’s body temperature is really low.” Seonghwa commented, grabbing your limp hand to feel your temperature. It took Yunho a moment to shake everything off and he looked at around to his crew. “Salvage anything possibly of use from the water, Mingi once that’s done change course and get us out of these waters. I don’t trust them.” Yunho started giving everyone orders, moving to the practically lifeless body on his deck.

He scooped you up effortlessly, feeling just how cold your body was against his and needing to hold back his emotions. “Seonghwa, come with me.” Yunho said, walking towards the door that lead below deck and his chambers.

“Who is that?” Wooyoung asked, watching his captain walk below deck with the woman in his arms. “Captain Y/L/N’s daughter.” Mingi responded and the younger male’s eyes went wide. Some of the crew joined after the attack, only knowing about you through stories told by Yunho and your father. You were a legend, a legend everyone thought was dead.

“We have to get these wet clothes off and wrap her up in blankets.” Seonghwa explained as Yunho laid you down on his bed. He looked at Seonghwa with wide eyes. Seonghwa was still his hyung even though he was captain and in moments like this, he was filled with fear and need his hyung.

Quickly, the two made work of your wet clothes, avoiding looking at your body as much as they could and instantly wrapping you in the blankets on his bed. He attempted drying your hair to the best of his ability and also under the watchfull eyes of Seonghwa, who was grabbing more blankets to keep you warm.

“How is she not dead?” Yunho asked, completely befuddled as to how you were still alive, 5 years later. “She’s always been strong. But I have to admit, I thought she was dead too.” Seonghwa admitted softly, feeling your pulse on your neck. “Her pulse is already stronger, I think we might have acted fast enough.” He added on and his words were calming to Yunho.

Yunho sat next to you on the bed, just looking at your face. You hadn’t changed much, well you had gotten older but so had he. Even if in that moment he didn’t feel like it. He felt like he was seventeen again and everything was normal, like your dad was still around and you didn’t disappear for 5 years. But that wasn’t the case and Yunho was now the captain and you were slowly coming back from the dead.

“I should stay down here, with her. If she wakes up, you know.” Yunho said, looking at Seonghwa. He nodded his head in understanding, he knew Yunho loved you. Even when he was seventeen it was obvious, he wasn’t going to stop him from being with you now.

“You want me to take care of things on top?” Seonghwa asked and Yunho nodded. “Please.” His voice was barely a whisper, but Seonghwa understood and left. Yunho was racking his brain as to how he was going to tell you everything when you woke up, because he absolutely knew you would, you had too.

But it had been a few hours and he was starting to lose hope, tearing himself away from you to walk out onto the deck. “Is she up?” Seonghwa asked, watching the taller male walk from below deck. “No, not yet. I just couldn’t sit there any longer.” Yunho shook his head leaning on the railing and taking his head into his hands. The sky had turned dark amidst the chaos, telling Yunho just how long of a day it had already been. “If she doesn’t wake up soon, I don’t think she will.” Those weren’t words anyone wanted to hear.

Your body was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth, you weren’t dead, this couldn’t be what death felt like. No, it couldn’t be. Heaven or hell wouldn’t be the smell of seawater and the sound of wood creaking filling your ears. There was a flickering light as you opened your eyes slowly, one you knew all too well from spending time under decks. No, you weren’t dead.

Blinking slowly, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the light and sat up slowly. A sudden rush to your head made you lay back down a moment. “You did almost die. Maybe you should take it easy.” You said softly, throat sore from your previous gasping for air. You sat up again, even slower than before and looked around the room. Holding the blankets wrapped around your body tightly as you did so.

This was familiar, the quarters you were in. They were very familiar, comforting almost. This was your fathers’ ship, this was the ‘Desire’. But it couldn’t be... could it?

You whipped your head around, looking towards where you knew your old room would be if it was and low and behold. There was the door to your old quarters, the little sign your father had made for you with your name carved into the wood. Tears couldn’t help but pool in the corner of your eyes, you were finally home.

You scrambled out of the bed, feeling a sudden rush of energy and adrenaline. You had to go find your father, you had too. It had been 5 years and they must’ve thought you were dead. Wait, did that mean that you really did see Yunho. Or was that in the inbetween, the space between life and death?

You had so many questions and so many uncertainties. Priority number one was to find your father. So you pushed yourself off of the bed, stabilizing yourself as the blood rushed to your head. The blanket that was wrapped around you now laying on the floor as you pulled your slightly damp clothes back on. You tried clearing your throat but it burned immensly from the water inhalation, making you cringe.

‘The Desire’ was your childhood. You knew the ship like the back of your hand, even if it had been 5 years. You instantly found yourself climbing the stairs leading to the door to the deck. Maybe you shouldn’t have rushed yourself to move so quickly but, your family, you were home. Weakly, you pushed the door open and took in the fresh air and dark blue sky.

Yunho heard the deck door open and turned his head around. Low and behold there you stood, holding onto the door for support because it felt like your legs were going to give out at any moment. He couldn’t reach you fast enough, running over the deck to take you into his arms before you could fall. You had strained yourself entirely too much since you had woken up, your body wasn’t ready for any of it.

You were sure Yunho was a hallucination when you saw him prior, but now holding him, feeling the warmth of his skin and seeing the glitter in his eye, you were aware that he was very much real.

“I thought you were dead.” Your voice was scratchy, cracking as your emotions took over too. “I could say the same thing.” Yunho laughed, holding you against his chest. “The last thing I saw that night was a blade going through your stomach.” Tears were spilling now as your scratchy words came out. “Shh, it’s okay we’ll talk more once you’re a bit better.” He said, still simply holding you.

His voice was comforting, it reminded you of home. The ship was comforting, it was your home.

“Where’s my father?” You asked, allowing Yunho to put you back on your feet and his arm wrapped around your waist for support. Glancing around the deck, you recognized a few familiar faces but not the one you were most excited to see. “Where is he?” You asked again, looking at Yunho. He was avoiding your gaze, but he found it hard to look at you in this state: injured and upset. Especially after having just gotten you back.

How was Yunho supposed to tell you that your father had died looking for you, or that he had gone half mad doing it?

“Yunho?” Your scratchy voice brought him back to reality. “Come on let’s get you warmed up again. I’ll explain things.” Yunho pulled you back below deck, your feet barely touching the ground as he supported all of your weight.

You took the moment to really look at him, as he rushed around the quarters to keep you warm. He’d gotten taller, alot taller. Yunho was always taller than you but now it was quite prominent. His shoulders were wider now too, a lot more muscular than what he used to be. He had aged well, he was handsome.

Burrying deeper into the blankets, you relished in the warmth and watched as he sat down next to you. It took him a moment to look at you, but eventually he looked up. Sparkly eyes not having changed once in the 5 years you hadn’t seen him. He swallowed thickly, fiddling with the blanket between his fingers. Yunho was trying his best to avoid telling you, even if he knew you should know. He wanted to spare you the pain.

“The night you were taken, the captain found me on the deck. I was pretty sure I was dead already. Felt like the whole world was going dark.” Yunho started to explain and you thought back to the pain you felt, thinking that he had died. “Seonghwa somehow, managed to patch me up all in the mean time your father was doing anything and everything to try and find you. Every waking second spent trying to find the ship with the black sails that comes and goes like a ghost in the night.” His voice faltered talking about it all and well you weren’t dumb. You just needed to hear him say it.

“He was so convinced you were alive. I feel so bad that we didn’t believe him, but we humored him and helped him look. Catching odd jobs every now and then to get by.” You sat up, placing your hand on his for comfort. Even though you were gone for 5 years, it seemed like the crew of the ‘desire’ didn’t have it easy either.

“Your father got sick, really sick. He always used to say ‘Of all the things to take me out, I never thought it would be an illness’” Yunho squeezed your hand and you felt yourself starting to tear up, so much had changed. “Your father passed away 2 years ago and left the ship to me, making me the new captain.” The tears fell at his words, one of the few things that kept you alive all those years was the thought of seeing your father again.

“He never stopped looking for you.” Yunho finally looked at you, hating to see the tears rolling down your cheeks and you cold hand holding his. He lifted your hand, rubbing it to warm it up. “I’m so sorry we didn’t believe him.” You could hear all the remorse in his voice, remorse for not believing your father, remorse towards his passing, it was hard to hear.

“It’s alright, Yunho.” You wiped your tears away quickly and he grabbed your other hand to try to warm them up. He ignored your words, blowing warm air onto your hands and continuing to rub them. “I’ll go get you something warm to eat.” Yunho needed to get out, for his own emotions sake, he was a captain now and he needed to be strong. “No, don’t leave. Please.” You whispered, gripping his hands as tightly as you could.

He hadn’t even realised that a tear had slipped until he looked at you, weak, tired and sad. “Okay, okay.” Yunho nodded, kicking his boots off and moving to lay next to you in his bed but on top of the sheets. Your cold fingers reached out and wiped his tears away, heart breaking for him and yourself. If there was any time for self pity, it was now.

The feeling of him laying next to you warmed you up almost instantly, making you curl into him even more and revelling in the feeling of being home. “Relax, you’re home now. You’re safe. We finally have you back and we aren’t letting you go anywhere.” You burried your face into his chest at his words, knowing they were true and let your body relax to slowly fall asleep.

It wasn’t Yunho’s intention to fall asleep with you, but he couldn’t help it. The day’s emotions had gotten to him and naturally had exhausted him. But he did wake up again with a start and a panic filled chest. It must’ve been the dream he was having, or maybe it was the fact that you weren’t next to him anymore and not anywhere in his room.

Did he dream up that you were back?

Pushing himself off of the bed, he rushed out of the room and onto the deck. He wasn’t sure if you were real anymore and needed that confirmation for his own sake.

However that confirmation came quickly as he found you sitting on the stairs, eating some soup and laughing with Mingi and Wooyoung. That panic in his chest subsiding at the scene and allowing himself te release the breath he was holding.

“She came out this morning, claiming your snoring woke her up along with her stomach growling. Seems her personality hasn’t changed much.” Seonghwa laughed and Yunho smiled. “That’s a relief.” Was all he could say before turning to finally look at Seonghwa. “You should’ve woken me up.” He added and Seonghwa shook his head. “Y/N told me not too, that you seemed tired the night before. I figured since she’s the captain’s daughter, I should listen.” Seonghwa had a point to that and it was something that Yunho hadn’t thought about before.

He knew that if you were never taken, you would now be captain. Your father was always training you to become the captain and it was purely circumstancial that Yunho was the captain now. It was only right in his mind that you should be the captain now.

You smiled as you noticed Yunho approaching you three and you wiped your lips from the soup remnants. “Goodmorning, sleeping beauty.” You joked and Yunho instantly sighed. “Your sense of humor hasn’t changed at all.” He sounded annoyed, but he was relieved, your traumatic experiences didn’t seem to dampen your spirit. He wished he could say the same.

“Anyways, Captain what’s your first order?” Yunho asked, causing confused looks from you, Seonghwa, Mingi and Wooyoung to be shot his way. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, not understanding if this was a joke or not. “You heard me. You were the captain’s daughter, he always wanted you to be captain. Now you’re here.” Yunho stated and you felt an odd pit in your stomach. It had been years since being mentioned as possible captain had happened and now Yunho was simply giving you the position.

“I-I-” You stuttered and Yunho looked at you, deadly serious. “Yunho, he made you captain.” You started, Wooyoung and Mingi excusing themselves from your conversation with Seonghwa following suit. “I know he made me captain. But he wanted to make you captain, you know that.” He explained and you shook your head. “Those things don’t matter. They stopped mattering the second I was taken off this ship. My father, loved you. He wanted you to be captain for a reason. Besides, the crew knows you, they trust you and they obviously follow you as a captain.” You paused, looking at him and making sure to look into his eyes. You needed him to know you meant this, because your desire to be captain was so low it was practically non-existent.

“You’re the captain, you should stay the captain. I will be on the sidelines and help where I can, but I have no desire to be captain.” Yunho felt slightly reassured at your words or maybe it was your expression, either way he felt better.

“I missed you.” Yunho said after a long a pause, but now he was looking at the ocean. He found it hard to look you in the eyes to tell you things weighing on his mind.

You looked at his face, really taking the moment to take it in. Age had been kind to Yunho, turning him from the boy you knew into a man. His jaw was more defined, his shoulders were wider and he was definitely taller, even more attractive than he was 5 years ago. Maybe that was because you were both grown up.

“I missed you too.” You said back, tucking your knees under your chin and wrapping your arms around your legs. You meant it, you cried for a week thinking that Yunho was dead and all because he was trying to save you. It was a guilt that you had carried with yourself for years and that was wiped away the day prior.

“Well captain, where are we headed?” You asked and he finally looked at you again. “We are headed to port. However, you should be resting your body faced a lot of trauma in the last 48 hours.” You sighed at his words, but you knew he was right. “I’ll rest until we reach port then, but I haven’t been on land in 5 years. I’d like to go.” You compromised and Yunho looked down at the wooden deck, you were as stubborn as ever.

“Fine. We need to get a few things, food supply has been running low. Need to stock up.” He explained and you smiled. “Sounds quite honest for a pirate.” You remarked and he shook his head with a smile. “I never really was good at attacking others.” He explained and you couldn’t help but smile too. You hadn’t smiled this much in so long, your cheeks were starting to hurt.

“An honest pirate. What are the odds?” You remarked to yourself and stood up from your spot on the stairs. “I won’t do any work then, because you don’t want me too. But I will stay on deck and watch, to remember what it’s like to be home again.” You brushed past him, making sure to pat his back as you did. Yunho watched you walk away and towards Mingi who was by the helm, steering the ship.

There was already such a difference from the way you looked yesterday and the way you looked now. With your hair blowing in the wind and the smile on your face, you looked just as beautiful as you did 5 years ago and it made Yunho weak in the knees.

It took a few days for the ‘Desire’ to reach port, pulling it’s very obvious pirate sail down once they reach the horizon of the island. There was no need to alarm people, not when you were there to do honest work.

In the meantime you tried to abide by what Yunho had asked, for you to rest. But it was sure proving to be difficult, you hated feeling useless. Yet you still tried to help out, marking inventory, charting routes, trying to get your sea legs back to the best of your ability. You did all this while trying not to get caught by Yunho and failing.

If it was the you from 5 years ago, you wouldn’t have listened to him. But things had changed, the captain role suited him well and he had an air of authority to him, you couldn’t help but listen when he scolded you. Yunho had even insisted you take the captain’s quarters, knowing they gifted more privacy than the crew’s quarters, much to your dismay. A captain needed that privacy, not you. But you had lost the argument with him and slept in his bed while he lay in a hammock way below deck.

“Ahh.” Yunho hissed, stretching out and feeling his joints cracking. You shook your head at his noises, knowing they were because of the hammock. “I told you to take the bed, but you insisted. You can still have it, I don’t mind.” You said and he shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t feel right.” Yunho said as the island came larger and larger into view. “Yes it would. Especially for your back.” You retorted and he sighed. “You still argue too much.” “That’s besides the fact. How long are we staying here?” You asked, feeling excited to be so close to land again.

Yunho could see the excitement in your eyes and the little excited bounce in your step as you walked over to the railing to look at the island. He followed you after telling Seonghwa to prepare things to anchor.

“5 years of not being on land. I would’ve gone insane.” He remarked, standing directly next to you with his side pressing into you. He wasn’t wrong, you were on the verge of going insane when your captor’s ship was blown to bits. “This is going to sound insensitive...” Yunho started and craned your head to look up at him, preparing for his question. However, he couldn’t help but pause and take in the way you looked at him.

“But why did they keep you around... for 5 years? It’s something I’ve been thinking about since we found you.” His question wasn’t insensitive, it was something you wondered too. It was something you had asked your captor’s almost everyday, but you had only gotten the answer recently.

“I asked the Captain, almost everyday why he took me and he wouldn’t respond. But the sea was slowly starting to drive him mad and he finally told me.” You paused, smiling softly to reassure Yunho you were okay speaking about it. “He said he took me because of how close my father and I were. That meant I must’ve known the info he did. But dad never told me about the Aurora and well, the Captain didn’t know that.” Yunho’s ears perked up at the mention of the Aurora. The Aurora was a myth, or so he was told.

“And then he wanted to use me as bargaining, for information. But that got postponed and postponed, new things, new adventures for him and his crew. So the deals never happened.” You stopped, making sure Yunho was still listening and well he was, intently. He wanted to make sure no one hand physically hurt you more than he was already aware of. The memory of the stuff you had went through wasn’t good, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as what people would of thought, you were treated more as a servant than a prisoner and you were kept fed. Judging by stories your father had told you, you could have had it way worse.

“Secretly I think he just liked having me around.” You joked, you were never one to wallow in self pity long. Yunho sighed, looking down to the ground being very obviously deep in thought. You extended your hand to cup his cheek, making him look back up at you. “I’m alright, despite everything, I’m alright.” You reassured and he simply nodded his head, nestling his face further into your hands.

The moment was endearing, sparking something in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time... butterflies.

“Anchor’s down and we are docked, Captain.” Mingi came by to say, ruining the moment slightly and snapping Yunho back down to Earth. “Right, we docked. Uh, supplies we need to get.” He pulled away from you, walking to the other end of the deck to try and get some things ready. You sighed, leaning back onto the railing of the ship. You were happy to be on land, but you were quite enjoying holding him.

Yunho walked down from his ship and onto the dock, nodding at some of the royal guard shaking all suspicions that the ‘Desire’ was a pirate ship. “It costs 10 silvers to dock.” A man registering the coming and going ships remarked, looking Yunho up and down. Yunho was young for a captain, people always underestimated him or thought less of him because of it.

“Here.” Yunho dropped the coins onto the mans registery before going to walk off. “My legs feel all shaky being on land again. So don’t mind me.” You said and grabbed onto Yunho’s arm for support. It seemed like your sea legs were fine, your land legs were the ones that needed work. Yunho laughed, allowing you to link your arm with his and he guided you towards the market.

Half of the crew stayed behind, guarding the ship and to come up with excuses should the royal guards feel the sudden need to investigate ships. The other half wandered around town with the money they had made or better to say looted.

But Yunho didn’t want you to wander far from him and in reality, you didn’t want to be far from him either. The feelings you remembered having 5 years prior were very much coming back. Something you always thought was a stupid little teenage crush was definitely not the case anymore. Yunho became a man, a man you loved.

You stayed by him as he bartered, laughing at the chortle the farmer gave him at his suggested price and making Yunho sigh. “Fine.” He sighed, slipping the man a few coppers and telling him to place the crates by the ship.

The last few days you had spent observing him in his position as captain, well admiring more. He was a just and kind captain, something that you didn’t see often and well definitely not in pirates. It was a rare quality your father had too and it seemed he taught Yunho well.

Even now, you couldn’t help but watch him as he conducted business. It seemed like everyone liked him and the way he held himself. It was entirely fascinating and well it seemed it wasn’t just that way to you. He was catching the eyes of alot of women, be it the daughters of the farmers he bartered with or the ladies standing outside of the local brothel. You absolutely hated it, but you didn’t own Yunho in any way or form. However this just further justified that he had grown up incredibly well.

“Captain, you aren’t joining?” You heard Wooyoung call from a window as you walked through the dark street. Night was about to fall and it seemed the crew members were indulging in a night with the local brothel’s prospects. You really couldn’t blame them, they were at sea for months at a time and they needed to get rid of their frustrations... of any sort.

You glanced at Wooyoung, not being able to help yourself but stare at the woman who was kissing down his neck. “I’ll sit this one out.” Yunho called back and Wooyoung laughed. You remained quiet, it was his choice if he wanted to stay and indulge. It would hurt if he decided to, but that was his choice. He was a captain after all, he must’ve been stressed.

“You’re funny, come on Captain.” Wooyoung taunted, one of the girls coming out of the building’s entrance and leaning against the door frame. She was beautiful with dark hair and golden sunkissed skin, there was no question and even you were tempted, let alone Yunho.

“I’m not holding you back. If you want too, go ahead.” You said and Yunho looked at you in surprise. Was he tempted? Only slightly, but you telling him to go made him second guess things. Part of him wanted you to tell him not too because it meant you might have still had feelings for him or at least that they were rekindled in the past few days.

“I was planning on going to bed on time anyways, today cost a bit more energy than I anticipated.” You lied, but you meant that you wanted him to have a good time. Yunho fumbled with his fingers and for a split moment, he looked like his 17 year old self. He mentally debated for a moment and decided to go inside.

You had only been back a few days, there was no way your feelings were there. Or so Yunho thought as he watched you head in the direction of the docks and the hand of the girl ran over his back. “Captain was it?” Her voice was soft in his ears as he ridirected his attention to her, nodding. “Tell me some of your stories then, Captain.” She smiled, pulling him into the brothel by the fabric of his jacket.

It hurt your heart when he entered the brothel, even more when you saw her hand on his back but you let it go, he had made his choice and you had made yours.

“Where’s the rest?” Seonghwa asked as you appeared on deck. You scoffed at his question and sat yourself down on one of the barrels of grain that you had bought that afternoon. “I’m assuming balls deep in some girls and boys from the brothel.” You stated and Seonghwa was taken back for a moment. “Sorry, I- nevermind.” You started but finished just as quickly, letting your emotions speak for you.

“So Yunho is also partaking in this.” You don’t know how Seonghwa ended up being so wise and the person you’d go to when you needed to talk, but he did and you appreciated him for it. “Yes, Yunho is also partaking in this. I told him he should. Being captain must be... stressfull.” You could understand, you had needs. It was just, you would rather deal with his stress... with him.

“Your father always knew you liked him and well he had a hunch that Yunho liked you too.” Seonghwa laughed and you shrugged. Your father was always right, you missed him for it.

“That day, that day that I was taken I told Yunho how I felt. He told me he felt the same and then all Hell broke loose. Seemed almost like fate was intervening.” You chuckled and played with the hem of your shirt. “I got kidnapped and Yunho almost died.” You found it almost comical, how your lives could’ve taken such a turn.

“Yeah, it seems that way almost. But you made your way back and Yunho lived. Two things that seemed impossible happened.” Seonghwa leaned against the barrels as well and looked up at the stars. He wasn’t wrong, not at all. If you love something you have to let it go. If it was meant to be, it would come back to you and well you had managed to come back together.

“I haven’t said it yet since I’ve been back, but I missed you too Seonghwa. You always listened.” You hopped off the barrel as you spoke. “The crew missed having you around too and well, I missed having the ship’s princess here.” Seonghwa laughed, placing a hand on your arm. You leaned into his touch slightly and then pulled away. “I’m going to go to bed, however. To sit in my anger alone.” You joked, heading towards the captain’s quarters. “Don’t sit in anger too long. Anger and the sea don’t mix well.” He called after you, making you simply smile as you disappeared below deck.

You were angry, angry at yourself for telling him to go but also angry that he chose to go. You let out a disgruntled sigh as you undid the ties on your boots, kicking them off before working to undo the ties around the collar of your blouse.

As you did so, the door to the captain’s quarters flew open. The sudden rush of air and the sound made you jump up, clutching your chest as you looked at who it was.

“Yunho?” You asked, looking at him and holding the top of your blouse shut. He looked disgruntled, hair tousled and chest rising and falling deeply. “How could you let me go?” He asked, taking you back immensly. “I’m sorry? How could I let you go? You’re a grown man, you made that choice.” You were almost laughing, his actions were most definitely his choice. “I know and it was stupid but how could let me go?” He sighed, running his figners through his hair. “It didn’t take much convincing. The girl was absolutely gorgeous, I don’t blame you. Besides everyone has needs.” You explained, looking at him with a confused expression.

“Was she not good?” You asked still thoroughly in the dark of why he was upset. “I was in there for half an hour, drinking an ale and the whole time while she tried to... I was thinking about you, so I left.” You were frozen at his words, your hands falling from your blouse to your sides. Yunho was scared, this confession was different from the one 5 years ago. This was real, this wasn’t a crush. This was a mix of lust and love.

“Was I dumb to think you felt the same? Because you telling me to go in there told me you don’t.” Yunho questioned your silence and tried to avert his eyes from the cleavage that was now very much out. You took a deep breath, not allowing yourself to think too much about your actions as you did them.

Stepping forward, you placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him to your level. His lips pressing against yours roughly as you did so, but you really didn’t care. This was years of pining and being concerned of each other wrapped into one kiss.

Yunho didn’t need to think twice in kissing you back, hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he did so. He pressed his lips against yours even harder, feeling your fingers tangling into his hair.

You could taste the ale slightly on his tongue as it dipped into your mouth, making you smile. “You taste like ale.” You mumbled against his lips only for him to shake his head. “You either talk too much or too less.” He replied in response, leaning down to grip your thighs and lifting you in the process. “What am I doing now?” You asked, arms wrapping around his neck. You couldn’t help but tease a little, especially with the way he was looking at you. “Definitely talking too much.” He said and kissed you again, even more feverishly than before.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to your ass, holding you up effortlessly. He gave you a squeeze and revelled in the way you hummed against his lips. Your hand caressed his cheek and you pulled your lips away from his for a moment, just so you could look at him and take him in. His eyes sparkled in the light from the candles and they were a significantly darker than usual while looking at you.

He walked you backwards, a small smile playing on his lips as he did so. Yunho was doing the exact same thing, taking you in. The way your lips were soft under his, the way your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath and the way your skin looked golden under the light of the candles. He took it all in because as fate had shown before, he didn’t know when it could be taken all away again.

Yunho dropped you onto the bed, maybe a little rougher than he intended too but you didn’t mind. Especially not as he slipped between your legs and hovered over you, still standing as you sat in front of him on the bed. He leaned down, hand holding your neck as he kissed you again. Tongue swiping over your lips as you tried pulling him further down to your level. The hand on your neck moved down slightly, tracing the skin that was revealed from your blouse and down your chest. He grabbed your breast throught the fabric, kneading softly as you whimpered against his lips.

“Take it off.” He told you, hardly pulling his lips away from yours as he did. The demand sent goosebumps over your body and the dominance he was radiating made your core ache. Your fingers found the hem of your blouse, not wasting too much time in taking it off. Yunho helped you, grabbing the thin fabric and pulling it off of you to reveal your bare chest.

His lips instantly attached the newly revealed skin and his hands cupped your breasts, massaging them a little harsher than before. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of his lips all over your chest, leaving marks where he could and simply because he wanted too. This was his new favorite feeling, the feeling of you under him and his lips on you.

“You’re so soft.” He mumbled against your skin and sinking down to his knees. Yunho was now practically the same height as you as you sat on his bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your chest nearly flush against his face. His tongue ran over your nipples gently before allowing his lips to wrap around it, sucking softly as your fingers carded through his hair. You were a whimpering mess under his mouth and you could tell he was only just starting.

“Yunho-” You moaned, starting to tug on his blouse. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours. He took his lips off of you with a chuckle. “How about you take it off now?” You asked, your hand tilting his chin up to look at you. This was such a sight, Yunho sitting between your legs and looking up at you with those big beautiful eyes. He smiled at your request before allowing you to help him with the ties of his blouse. His hands fumbled along with yours, admiring the size difference between the two as he did before deciding it was done enough to pull it off.

You watched him throw the fabric to the side before turning back to you. Your hands moved before you really put much thought into it, moving from his bare shoulders and down his chest. He was so much more muscular than 5 years prior and he had little scars from fights and accidents. But one stood out the most, the big scar just off the side of his belly button, the one that showed that he had evaded death.

Yunho shivered slightly, feeling your fingers graze the scar before bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. “Stand up.” You said, kissing his neck gently as you did so. He faltered for a moment, raising up from his knees to stand before you again. As if he wasn’t incredibly hard already, the sight of you dropping to your knees infront of him definitely helped.

Your hands moved down his stomach stopping at the ties of his trousers as you looked at him. Lifting yourself slightly, you kissed down the faint v line that dipped down and made shivers go down his spine. Yunho’s hand moved to your hair and pulled the loose strands out of your face so he could see every expression.

You tugged his trousers down, allowing his cock to spring free and he let out a hiss. With a soft smile, your hand wrapped around him softly and you thumb ran over his slit to spread some of the precum around. Yunho couldn’t hold back his moans at the feeling, your hand was better than his own or some girl from a brothel. To you he sounded absolutely heavenly, making your lips part in a sigh before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightened as he felt your tongue swirl over his tip before throwing his head back. “Oh shit.” He hissed as you bobbed your head over him, forcing yourself to take more of him and using your hand for what didn’t fit. You pulled your mouth off of him and took a deep breath, giving him a soft squeeze with your hand just to see his response. Yunho almost whimpered and tugged your hair again because of the pleasure. “That feels so good.” He huffed as you took him into your mouth again. Your nose brushed his lower stomach as his cock pressed against the back of your throat, making you gag but you took it. His sounds were most definitely worth it.

Yunho back away from you, his hands running through his hair as his chest rose and fell deeply. “I don’t want to finish yet.” He said, catching his breath as he looked at you completely bewildered. You smiled, loving that you had that effect on him before wiping your mouth slightly.

He moved back towards you, lifting you onto your feet before pushing you back onto the bed. Hands, almost instantly finding the ties to your trousers to pull them down harshly. Yunho was feeling an almost feral need to taste you, fuck you, have you in any way possible. His patience was running thin.

You let out a surprised sound as your trouser were ripped away from your legs, very much feeling the same need Yunho was at this point. Holding onto your ankles, he pulled you to edge of the bed and sank down on his again. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. His lips moved over your thighs, slowly but surely getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

You watched with heavy breaths as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently at first. The action left your hips bucking and Yunho smiling against your core. “Stay still.” He demanded and pressed your hips back down into the mattress before his lips became a bit harsher. With his eyes watching you and his lips against your core, the pleasure was incredibly intense. Your hands moved down your body, over your breasts and down to his on your hips. You just needed something to hold on to.

His tongue circled over your clit as your fingers laced with his, your back arched off the bed. His other hand moved off of your hips, pointer finger circling around your entrance before slipping inside. It caught you off guard, making your hips buck again and a moan tear from your lips. He added another finger, thrusting them into a little harder and fast as lips continued to suck on your clit. Yunho just wanted you to cum, he wanted to see you fall over the edge, he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

“Yunho- I’m, Oh.” You whimpered, squeezing his hand harshly as you tried to keep your hips still. The pit in your stomach was on the verge of exploding and he was doing everything he could to make it happen. His fingers continued to curl into you and your moans were almost soundless as you toppled over the edge. “That’s it.” He cooed as your thighs shook around his head, his fingers not slowing down one second to ride out your orgasm. Yunho watched your face contort and listened to your whimpers as he did so, a soft smile on his face the whole time.

“You sound so good.” He complimented, fingers not easing up any as he did so. Your legs closed around his hand and you pushed it away, the overstimulation being too much for you. Yunho stood back up, hovering over your body as you caught your breath. You opened your eyes, locking with his for a moment as his hands massaged your hips. “Are you going to fuck me already?” You asked, words surprising him.

The massaging of your hips ended as he lifted you up and flipped you over, catching you incredibly off guard but making you laugh none the less. “I told you, you talk too much sometimes.” He whispered in your ear as you adjusted to sit on your hands and knees. You smiled and arched your back slightly, ass pressing against his bare cock and he let out a sigh.

You could feel his hand move up your back and to your hair, tugging harshly and pressing your back against his chest. You could feel the tip of his cock sitting at your entrance and you squirmed slightly. You had never been quite this needy before and it was all Yunho’s doing.

He released your hair but wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you in place as he wasted no more time. Yunho thrust himself fully into you, hardly giving a moment to adjust to the stretch. The mewl that left your lips was a noise he knew he’d never forget and the way you felt gripping his cock either. It was like you were made for him.

Yunho started fucking into you hardly giving you a chance to breathe because of his brutal pace. His arm remained around your waist to keep pressed against him and his other hand gripped your chin to make you look at him. This was it for him, knowing your completely blissed out expression was because of him and only him. He revelled in the feeling.

Your sounds egged him on to fuck you even harder, pace being sure to leave bruises. You lifted your hand to hold on to the back of his neck, just so you had some leverage. “You feel so nice and tight around me, you were absolutely made for me.” He mumbled into your neck and kissed the skin. His words were making you blush which was almost funny considering the position you were in. “Fuck-” Was all you could muster as he hit that sweet spot inside of you, your fingers lacing with his on your waist. You were pretty sure that anyone on deck could hear your moaning but you really couldn’t care less.

You could feel yourself getting close and so could Yunho, the way you were squeezing him left him moaning into your neck. The hand holding your chin moved down your body and stopped at your clit, rubbing harshly as he mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.

“I want you to cum for me.” He started, kissing your lips as he picked up his pace even more. He continued to rub your clit as your body shook, that familiar coil in your stomach tightening. Yunho’s hips stuttered as he felt his own orgasm tear through him, moaning your name into your ear. As you felt him cum inside you, your own orgasm washed over you leaving your frozen and breathless.

You sat there for a moment, catching your breath as Yunho laced gentle kisses over your neck doing the same. The arm that was wrapped around you waist remained there, holding you up as you both calmed down for moment. Your fingers traced shapes into his hand, tickling him slightly and making him laugh.

“Well that was something.” You mumbled, moving away from him to lay down on the bed. Your body was in dire need of some rest, you could imagine his was too. You laid down on top of the sheets completely naked, looking up at Yunho who still standing and watching you.

There was a sort of after glow surrounding you, your flushed out cheeks, the marks over your chest and the sparkle in your eyes. He found himself simply staring as you blinked at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” He started, finally moving to lay down next to you. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck you again if you don’t stop.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but giggle too as you rested your head on his chest.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You asked and kissed over his chest lightly, teasingly almost. “A promise.” Yunho answered, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him. “Captain Yunho, I think I might’ve fallen in love with you all over again.” You admitted, looking into his eyes. Yunho really couldn’t help the smile that pulled over his lips or the pink tint that covered his ears. “That’s a relief. I don’t think I ever fell out of love with you.” Yunho said and let his hand massage your bare thigh.

“As long as we’re on the same page.” You said even softer, feeling incredibly tired after your day. Yunho settled with you in his arms allowing himself to also fall asleep with peace in mind for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, Yunho woke up to an empty bed and he panicked for a moment. Only to realise you were sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, completely bare as you flipped through a journal.

“This is a view I could get used to every morning.” Yunho mumbled, making you look up from the scribbles in the book. “If you play your cards right, you will.” You joked, standing up from your seat and wandering back to the bed. Yunho’s cheeks and eyes were puffy with sleep as he watched you saunter back to bed journal in hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” You asked, laying back down next to him and allowing his arms to wrap around you. You hadn’t noticed the journal lying there originally, but it had peaked your interest as you lied in bed that morning and rightfully so. It was your father’s sea journal and you had never looked in it before that morning.

Yunho kissed your bare shoulder slightly as he watched you flip through the pages. “I was going to when you woke up, if you woke up that day. Then I had to explain everything to you and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” Yunho explained, hoping you weren’t upset with him because of it. “It’s alright, I understand.” You reassured him, your hand stroking his face gently. “Have you flipped through this?” You asked, pausing on a page that had sparked a lot of interest for you a few minutes prior.

“No, it didn’t feel right. Like I was reading through his personal thoughts.” Yunho shook his head and moved to read the page. His eyes widened at the words over the page. “Is this real?” He asked and you shrugged. “I have no idea but there are directions... he never told me about this.” Your voice trailed off, wondering why your father never explained the Aurora to you or how to get there.

“Where were we headed after this stop?” You asked, reading the directions he had scribbled haphazardly over the page. “Nowhere specific. Somewhere, anywhere. At this point we were just surviving with the name pirate branded onto us.” He sounded lost for a moment, not enjoying the life they were leading. You both paused and looked at eachother. “If we don’t have a set course... What’s the harm in going?”You asked, knowing if you actually found the Aurora you’d be set for life. It was a legend but according to your father’s notebooks the legends were real. According to your captors, the legends were real.

The Auroura was the cause for your life being taken away from you for years, the reason Yunho was almost killed and the reason you would never see your father again. If there was an ounce of truth to it all, it was worth finding.

Yunho thought for a second, looking at your expression before standing up. He shuffled around for a moment, pulling his clothes back on that were thrown around during the previous evenings’ events. You watched him expectantly as he shuffled around, holding back your laughter as he stumbled slightly.

He extended his hand to you and you looked at him in confusion. “I’m going to need the directions if I want Mingi to chart a course.” He laughed, explaining himself and you felt your chest fill with warmth. Yunho leaned over the bed to kiss you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re not wrong about there being no harm. We’ve been sailing for months without a purpose. Seems like with you back, we have our purpose again.”

A/N: I left the ending kinda open to a part 2... so some feedback would be amazing. No in reality this fic took me months to write so I really hope you enjoy it.

Thank you for being patient with me, I love you guys and I’m sorry for being m.i.a while writing and stuff. ♥♥♥

#ateez #ateez smut #yunho #yunho smut #ateez reactions #yunho reactions

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shyrose57 · 3 years

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Oooo maybe some real life plants! but they are .. off somehow, I think that the end should mostly keep its dull very color drained vibes so the colorful things just seem more. So the greens are so gray you could barely call it green, and for subsitute water? Maybe liquid magic. Becasue this place has to run off of magic, they are floating over a void...

SPACE WHALES! Flying Rays, JellyFish! A lot of deep sea horrors fit very nicely into space horrors (and wonders bc I'll cry if the whales are mean :( ) and would do nicely to fill the endless stretches of just void with no land in sight. and Anglerfish... maybe not a fish, or floating in the void like the others but something land bound that uses a hypnotic lure? It lures you in with the feeling of safety and home. There is a reason that the abandoned cities where off the ground :)

Anyways floating over a void, the end (in my head canon) is the source of all magics in Mc (all the planes are connected and it diffuses into the other dimensions, but it is SATURATED in everything in the end, the dragon is pure magic, a manifestation of the end itself, so a lot of things there are magic or sustain themselves on magic (things that stay there (live over generations n stuff our group is fine) get warped by it which could be how over world plants got in there and established themselves, they would not survive in the over world any longer, the sun would kill them, their roots would thirst to death on water. they have magical properties, some of them glow. ) Though there are a lot of End Native plants too (the trees that are only trees when you stretch the definition, that thing that Moves, and has what you could only call teeth but it is not an animal, so it must be a plant) Oooooo maybe the warped fungus ;) I mean everything in the nether is terrified of it, so maybe it doesnt really belong there, and hitched a ride on fleeing endermen

A lot of things glow, (its how we have those stars in the end, they are creatures off in the distance, and whenever the wastelands that stretch on for miles give way to not-trees or shrub-lands, something is gonna glow, which gives the areas eerie shadows that make the wide vulnerable wastelands they came from seem safer than whatever is found in there. The magic running in the rivers sometimes spill out into the abyss and dissipates to start the cycle anew. Things lurk everywhere and kind things are few and far between. The End is full of Life, and That Is Horrifying

Endermen are nomadic and travel in haunts (Im taking this from Human Error :D), and are generally friendly until you look into their eyes (Eyes are windows to the soul, how can they bear to look at you? You are so bright, so Warm. It Sears their eyes, It Burns their very being. Stop looking, It Hurts. Stop Stop Stop-) They are willing to trade and talk Enchanting (So All 3 Dimensions have a Sentient Race :DD) and are very magically inclinded. A lot of mages are endermen or have ender blood in them. The end is very deadly, and Haunts keep eachother alive because their death could mean death of the group (they are very close knit and that leads to very protective (what Im saying is when Tubbo gets back his Husband is going to smother him and fret over one of the 3 members of his Haunt (Tubbo, Michael, and Tommy :) )) when One finds themself without a haunt, many try and find safety in the other dimensions as they will not survive alone in the end.

( I Have more ideas, but the more I think the more I make more and I already think im dumping a lot, so sorry if I wrote too much. I tried to break up the text wall to to make it easier)

Oh, that's a good idea! Mainly dull colors-especially for the more dangerous plants, they'd need to blend in to catch their food. I feel like there'd be some more colorful ones though-the chorus fruits are pretty saturated, after all. Maybe purple colors are brighter, and others are more dull? Or no?

So many space creatures, oh gosh. There'd be very few grounded ones, with so much of the End being void, so sea-based creatures are definitely a good call. That'd be so pretty too?? And we've gotta blur the line between space wonder and eldritch horror for at least a few of them, of course!

The jelly fish are absolutely huge! Massive and glowing through transparent skin, they mainly hang out far from the islands, being mistaken as stars, and their tendrils glow so faintly you can only see them up close. From a distance, they're beautiful, but up close they're terrifying.

Flying rays the size of horses that can be used to cross the void between islands like striders for lava?? Flying rays that's tips fade into an abyssal black so deep it looks they merge into the void? Flying rays with a possible relation to phantoms? Seeking out the sleepless, but only watching, merely drawn to lure them to sleep with the mesmerizing patterns that run along their bodies.

Space whales!!!! Titans so ancient and old, parts of their bodies are overgrown by End islands and forest, making them for all purposes, living, breathing islands. Magic so deeply tied to them that even when they pass, they remain afloat, creating graveyards of still islands, that even still seem to breath when stepped upon. Gentle giants in that they are untouched by anything, and so curious of the new wonders the void welcomes.

A thing that stalks the islands it inhabits, singing out a call that seems ripple across the starry expanse-it sounds like love and warmth and understanding, and it says i love you, the universe loves you, in the same way the poem must rung in your ears, must nestle under your ribs. Love, love, love, it croons. Except then you get too close, and it catches you, and the sound is empty and hollow, and it's grip is tight, and nothing leaves it's arms or island alive, drained of life and magic.

Safety is only in that it is bound to the land, and no creature dares approach it, instinctively knowing of the danger. The islands that even the stars avoid...

Magic dragon?? Yes! Manifestation of the End?? That means it must somehow know how to take the appearance of one. Maybe smaller little space dragons, that play among the bones of the long-gone giant ones. The Ender Dragon isn't as large as they might've been, but it mimics the appearance as best it can-I wonder why. How long has it had that egg, again? How long has it waited for it to hatch?

So we can totally have some of the minecraft plants end-ified! Ooh, and since some adventurers probably brought them there to maybe try surviving in the End, there'd be things like crops and weeds and grass, long mutated as they grow along the ruins of what might've been a home once. E N D M O S S. It glow.

Warped fungus!! But more! Because this one wouldn't have ever been to the Nether, never mutated in such a way. It's home, but somehow, it still feels so very alien to those that look upon it. Maybe no orange?? Orange is Nether-color. Darker blue, or more purple-ish, possibly.

Everything is luminescent. The things that aren't are much more dangerous than the things at are, don't stare into the dark for too long-it might start looking back, and trust me, you don't want that :).

The Endermen Know they are not supposed to be here, even if the newcomers do not Stare with all of the heat and warmth and burn. One may bear the Wings, and two may speak their language, but they are too soft, and colorful, and bright, but not glowing. They are Outsiders, and Outsiders must go home.

Because nothing good comes from those that stay-how do you think that thing knows the universe's lullaby?

They ally with the four, if only to save themselves, but the Outsiders grow on them. Maybe they will visit, but the Outsiders must stay out.

(Ranboo does not let his Haunting out of his sight for awhile. Tommy and Michael too yes, but mainly Tubbo and Phil. They could have strayed too far, they could have not come back. He doesn't Know in the same way the others do, but even he is aware of what he could lose, and what could become)

(Tell me A L L of them, I beg of you)

#So Past The End We Went AU #dream smp #dream smp au

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

Text

Zephyr

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Word Count: 2,696

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to Exes and Supher-o’s. This drabble takes place before the events of Exes and Superher-o’s and follows Jungkook as he’s rescued by a superhero love interest.

A/N: The reader in this drabble is not the reader in Exes and Superher-o’s.

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

While standing in line at the check-out counter, Jungkook examined the oranges he’d picked out in his basket. Idly, he recalled Minutia saying the color orange came after the fruit, not before. She loved to spout factoids like that; Jungkook did a pretty good job of tuning her out, but her random facts always seemed to stick in his head.

Minutia was the superhero Jungkook was assigned to as handler. She was fairly loud, fairly opinionated and fairly dedicated to kicking people’s ass on the regular.

She’d mentioned the orange fact when ISA – International Superhero Agency – had recommended Minutia change her superhero suit color to orange. She’d felt very strongly about this and in the end, Minutia had won.

Usually, she did.

Realizing the line before him had moved, Jungkook took a step forward. No longer distracted by thoughts of the color orange, he took the opportunity to scan the grocery store around him.

It was a habit of his – an unfortunate side effect of both his job and the knowledge which came from it. After high school, Jungkook attended an elite military academy on the east coast, but it only took six months before ISA found him.

He’d been out for a morning run when two men in suits cornered him for what they called an opportunity. They’d explained about a different path than the military; an alternative from merely serving his country. Both agent and handlers at ISA held no national loyalty – they merely protected civilians from absolute evil.

Barely had the offer left their mouths before Jungkook accepted.

Of course, Jungkook learned soon after superhero handlers were little more than baby-sitters, but that was beside the point. He genuinely cared about Minutia and knew the work they did together was important – even if his position kind of sucked, since Jungkook was more than capable of defending himself.

Handlers were required to be proficient in various martial arts; they often trained the newbie superheroes who arrived at the Agency. Jungkook was a ninth-degree black belt in Taekwondo, a red belt in Jiu Jitsu and a tenth-degree black belt in Judo. He also had a blue belt in Krav Maga, but this had more to do with lack of time than capability. Jungkook could assemble and disassemble most weapons in the time it took most people to fire them, but all that meant nothing in the face of superpowers.

Minutia could simply freeze Jungkook and kill him if she wanted to; he’d never see it coming.

Not that Minutia would kill him, of course. Stifling the image, Jungkook moved up in line. His super was relentlessly moral, even if she had some rough edges and enjoyed pushing boundaries.

It was the rest who worried Jungkook, like the supervillains they fought. Aided by supernatural powers, supervillains were capable of great destruction. It was the main reason Jungkook stayed at his job – if anyone stood a chance against supervillains, it was superheroes.

“Bag?”

Surprised, Jungkook looked up. “Huh?”

“Bag,” the cashier girl repeated, rolling her eyes. “Do you want a bag?”

“Oh – no.” Jungkook shook his head. “I have my own. I –”

An explosion rocked the street outside, shattering the windows in a hailstorm of glass.

On instinct, Jungkook dove to protect the rude cashier with his body. There was bulletproof lining beneath his clothes, for which he was grateful. He’d just come from shooting practice at Headquarters and hadn’t had a chance to change out of his gear.

Glass harmlessly bounced off his torso, although a few shards sliced his face, leaving blood as he winced. Reaching up to grip counter, Jungkook surveyed the damage.

All the windows of the supermarket had been blown in. The blast seemed to have originated from the street – at least, Jungkook assumed this based on the direction of people running.

“Stay down!” he yelled, and launched himself over the counter.

People obeyed, crawling towards the store’s interior aisles. Jungkook hoped there was a door in the back, otherwise they’d trap themselves like fish in a barrel. He wasn’t surprised when people followed his command. People tended to respond positively to authority in times of chaos.

Yanking a Glock from his jacket, Jungkook dashed from the store. Cocking his head to one side, he surveyed the street for danger.

There – at the end of the block, he saw a cloud of dust settling.

Keeping his gun steady, Jungkook rushed towards the scene. Halfway there, he realized he’d left his groceries behind and nearly groaned. Oh, well, it couldn’t be helped. Such was the life of superheroes and handlers.

As though in response to his thought, someone emerged from the chaos.

Only one person; tall, with hulking muscles and what looked to be three arms. Nope, wait – that was machine gun. Fuck.

Jungkook lunged to the side as the man opened fire. Luckily, much of the street was deserted from the blast and few people were hurt. Propping himself up on one knee, Jungkook squinted from behind an overturned car and fired.

Five shots, each in quick succession aimed at the man’s torso. Three of them hit, sending the man to his knees, only for him to snarl, his gaze snapping upwards.

Jungkook watched in horror as the bullet wounds began to heal, pushing metal from flesh with alarming speed.

Of fucking course, he was a supervillain.

Flipping around, Jungkook pressed his back to the car and considered his options. He should call for Minutia, or another super – teeth gritted, Jungkook pushed this option aside. He could do this on his own; this was a fight he could win.

Winning against rejuvenation wasn’t unheard of for someone like him. It meant his opponent healed abnormally fast from their injuries, but they could be overwhelmed if Jungkook kept up momentum.

Before he could finish this thought, the car Jungkook sat against flipped overhead.

Eyes wide, Jungkook watched it crash and roll down the street. A small crowd darted away as they screamed and Jungkook stifled an eye roll. Civilians were so predictable. They never got out of the way like they should; instead, they pressed closer and tried to video it all on their cell phones.

Twisting around, Jungkook found the supervillain grinning at him while he flexed a muscle.

The machine gun lay discarded in a pile of rubble. Jungkook’s heart sank, since it meant the villain was out of ammo, which likely meant he’d been using it in other locations.

When the villain wrenched a storm grate from the ground, Jungkook came to his senses. Survival was priority number one. Fighting someone with only rejuvenation would’ve been hard enough; it would be near impossible to fight someone with rejuvenation and strength.

Rolling away, Jungkook managed to escape said trajectory of the grate.

Metal smashed into the space he’d just occupied, leaving a human-sized dent in the pavement. Flipping himself upwards, Jungkook shot as he moved. This was a move best left to the movies, unless you happened to be an obsessed-with-video-games-superhero-handler trained in four different kinds of martial arts.

Jungkook was just that.

“Catch me if you can!” he yelled, taking off down the street.

He zig-zagged as he moved, craning his neck to peer overhead. The new plan was: keep the villain’s attention on Jungkook until help arrived, which wouldn’t be long. Given the immediacy of the destruction, ISA would likely dispatch someone with the ability to fly.

All he had to do was stay alive until then. Smirking a little, Jungkook dug in his heel and spun around.

Luckily, he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Pushing up the sleeve of his jacket, Jungkook waited until the villain was within fifteen feet, then pressed a button. 70 mA of electrical current shot out from his wrist, arcing with blue-white light to hit the villain in the chest. A product created by Namjoon, otherwise known as the superhero, Brainblast.

The volt was enough to stun or kill any other man, but the villain simply gasped and sunk to his knees.

He writhed for a moment, clawing at skin which simultaneously burned and healed. The distraction was all Jungkook needed to run, aiming his gun and – someone swooped down to blast the villain back with air.

A smirk on your face, you lowered both hands to your sides.

Jungkook skidded to a stop. Your superhero alias, Zephyr, was one of the most popular superheroes on the face of the planet. Intelligent, formidable, and rated a seven on the ISA power scale, despite only having one superpower: control over the air and winds.

You were also ridiculously hot; Jungkook had harbored a crush on you for years.

He still remembered the day you arrived at the Agency. Higher-ups said Zephyr (the Greek god of the west wind) was traditionally a male name and wouldn’t make sense to serve as your moniker. You’d said to fuck off and written it down anyways.

This memory made Jungkook smile, even as you sent another wave of wind down the street. Shaking his head, he pulled himself back to reality.

Hovering a few feet off the ground, wind whipped at your hair. You’d explained to him once you didn’t really fly – it was more the wind currents obeyed your commands and took you where you needed to go. Jungkook didn’t really get the difference, but he couldn’t deny you looked badass doing it.

While the villain struggled to stand, you glanced down at Jungkook.

“You alright?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

Jungkook tried not to frown. “I’m fine,” he said, despite the disheveled state of his hair and clothes. “I had him, you know.”

“Right.” Your expression turned dubious. “It’s just that –”

You were cut off by said villain throwing a car at your head, which you managed to stop with a thrust of your hand. The winds obeyed your command, wrapping around the car to set off to one side.

Gaze narrowed, you rose even higher. “It’s not that you’re not capable!” You yelled to be heard over the wind. “But –”

A sewer grate flew through the air and, without turning, Jungkook shot it down from the sky. Pieces rained around them like confetti.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Right.” Sheepish, you smiled. “Just keep doing that. Distract him and I’ll try to knock him out. Keep him alive, though!”

Jungkook nodded, giving a grim smile before moving forward.

He broke into a run, alarmed by how fast the villain seemed to heal. Even if two supers had the same power, they tended to vary in intensity. This villain must be rated high even without his super strength.

The device on Jungkook’s arm wouldn’t recharge for another five minutes, so he relied on his gun to keep the villain occupied. A shot to the kneecap; another to his shoulder. Keeping your words in mind, Jungkook tried not to hit anything vital. Even rejuvenation might not be enough to heal the man if he shot him in the heart.

High above, you flew gracefully upwards. Jungkook nearly stopped to stare; you arced through the sky like a dancer, claiming the winds as though you owned them. Caressing the breeze with one hand, you turned around and – fuck.

Jungkook had let himself get distracted. Swearing aloud, he dove behind the nearest car and heard something shatter.

Rolling to the other side, he propped himself up on one knee and shot. The villain yelped, stumbling forward as the bullet hit his elbow.

This time, it took greater concentration for metal to be squeezed from his skin. The villain panted as he stood, clearly winded and Jungkook’s heart leapt, realizing they’d tired him out.

This turned out to be the opening you needed.

Swooping down, you reached out a hand, and – wind whipping about like a force field – slowly closed your palm.

The villain gasped, his eyes going wide as he clutched his throat.

Shakily, Jungkook pushed himself upwards to stand.

One of the most dangerous powers associated with air manipulation was creating a vacuum. You achieved this by removing the air entirely; a feat which required great skill and concentration.

It only took a few minutes for the man to be so deprived of oxygen, his eyes rolled backwards. His legs wavered a second, then he slumped to the ground.

“Saoirse!” you yelled, floating down. “Cuffs!”

A woman with red hair – your handler, Jungkook presumed – ran from the nearest subway station to quickly cuff the man’s hands behind his back. Jungkook could see the moment the villain’s power drained from his limbs.

Standing before them, you watched, although it seemed to pain you.

Picking his way through the wreckage, Jungkook came to a stop by your side. Glancing your way, he noticed the breeze continue to play with your hair, as though it couldn’t bear to be parted for long.

“Do you ever wonder what this does to us?”

Confused by your question, Jungkook blinked. “What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, waving a hand at the wreckage. In the distance, Jungkook could hear sirens screaming. “All the death, the destruction… even the people on the other side. Does it ever hurt you sometimes?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, unsure how to respond.

Truthfully, it did bother him when he saw himself in the villains they faced. Sometimes he was fighting genuine evil, but occasionally the villains had reasonable grievances – worse, sometimes they’d merely been raised to see the ISA as evil.

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to hate those kinds of villains and yes, it did hurt when he took them out.

Sensing his hesitance, your shoulders slumped. Jungkook’s stomach twisted, wanting to fix whatever it was you were feeling. He hesitated, wanting to say you weren’t alone.

“Never mind,” you said, managing to smile. “Another bad guy defeated, right?”

“Right.” Jungkook’s gaze remained upon yours. “I guess.”

Before you could say anything more, Saoirse called your name.

“Guess I should go,” you said, rising into the air. When you glanced his way, Jungkook found himself wondering what you were thinking. “I… thanks for helping today, Jungkook.”

“Anytime.”

This time when he smiled at you, it was genuine.

You rose another few feet, then hesitated. “It’s been awhile since I came by the training arena, huh?”

Jungkook shrugged, as though he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Of course, he had.

“You’re still the one they’ve got training the new recruits?”

“Yep,”

“Hm.” A small smile crossed your lips. “Maybe I should stop by. Show the newbies how it’s done. We could work up a sweat.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly stopped when you dropped him a wink. Before he could speak, you rose further into the air.

“Bye, Jungkook!” you called, and zipped off down the street.

The sound of your voice faded into the sounds of the city and Jungkook stood there another moment before coming to his senses. His phone began to ring in his pocket.

Fumbling for the device, he sighed when he saw the name on the ID.

“Hello?” he said, lifting the phone to his ear.

“YOU’RE ALIVE.”

Wincing, he held the phone further away. “Minutia?”

“Who else would it be? Of course, it’s me, you idiot! I had just gotten my morning coffee and was passing that pizza place when I happen to catch a glimpse of the TV – and what do I see? You, fighting a fucking supervillain alone!”

“I wasn’t alone,” Jungkook shot back.

“Yeah, those cowering civilians looked real intimidating.”

“Zephyr showed up at the end, it was fine.”

“Oh,” she said, somewhat mollified. “Alright, then. She’s cool. But seriously, JK – be more careful, would you? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pulling his hand away, Jungkook squinted at the receiver. “Huh?” he said, returning the device to his ear.

“Yeah, who’d pick up my dry cleaning?”

“Bye,” Jungkook grunted, and hung up the phone.

Still, he smiled as he turned to walk down the street. People stared as he passed, pointing and whispering about the state of his clothes. Jungkook heard the word super being muttered, although he didn’t bother to correct them.

He was too busy turning your words over again in his mind. Does it ever hurt you sometimes?

The truth was it did. All the time.

He just didn’t know if there existed a better path than the one he was on.

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook drabble #bts drabble #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook superhero #bts superhero

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cecilfaust · 3 years

Photo

DAY FIVE

He had, they said, tasted in succession all the apples of the tree of knowledge, and, whether from hunger or disgust, had ended by tasting the forbidden fruit. ― Victor Hugo

Harrow collapsed onto the shore in a sweaty daze. Why make them survive an explosion only to have to row themselves to safety? Wasn’t it enough that they’d survived it in the first place? No, nothing seemed to be enough for the Gamemakers. The faces he’d seen floating in the river proved just that.

Or maybe it was another hallucination.

He had quite a few since reaching the bottom of the hatch. His mother and father, staring at him in wide-eyed horror; Lyric looking at him in fear and sadness; the bloodied tribute in the tavern staring at him with nothing but anger.

They all seemed to be saying the same thing:

Weak.

The whisper came from behind him, but he whipped his head around to see that nobody was near. Harrow buried his head in his hands as he tried to calm his nerves.

Weak.

The voice was back now, it’s echo growing as if joined by a ghostly chorus. As if it ever left. It reminded him of the spirits in the cemetery—only far more menacing.

Weak.

He was surrounded by flowers, but he wasn’t comforted in the slightest. Things would only get worse before they got better. Harrow Pitt would have to suffer if he would make it through the arena.

And suffer he did.

Weak.

He ran his fingernails down his ears until he drew blood. It was as if he were trying to scratch an itch that wasn’t going away. He was only trying to get rid of the voices.

Gifts landed at his feet, but Harrow was far too distracted by the feeling of a thousand eyes watching him to notice.

There was someone behind him. He could feel them stalking him like a wolf to its prey. Even though every instinct was telling him not to look back, Harrow had to know for sure. He’d played the victim far too many times and now that he’d made it as far as he had, there was no one left to save him but himself.

He turned with his multi-took clutched in his hand. The only thing waiting for him was a small pigeon pecking at the ground for food. Harrow dropped the tool to the ground and reached his hand out. He couldn’t hurt an innocent animal. Instead of flying off, the bird warmed to his touch and Harrow held it ever so gently in his grasp.

It silenced the voices, giving him the much needed reprieve. He took a moment to enjoy the new view. Wherever he was, at least he was somewhere that reminded him of home. Everything was going to be alright.

But not for long.

Weak.

The sound of it made Harrow tighten his grasp. They were right. No matter how smart or strong or fucking nice he could be, it just wasn’t enough. Something was making an awful noise, but he couldn’t be bothered to see what it was.

We—

Bones cracked under his fist and he opened his hands to find that he’d snapped the pigeon’s neck, the bird twitching it’s last breath.

It was so simple. Why didn’t he think of it before? He let out a laugh, deep and hoarse, at the realization of it.

Harrow Pitt would simply be weak no more.

#harrow — ( writing )#128 #day five #the jokerfication of harrow....as a treat #tw animal harm

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thewildwaffle · 4 years

Text

Unknown Powers

Entry Log Post Crash: Day 1

In all honesty, I am surprised by the number of our unit that survived the crash. Thank the stars, though. It could have been worse, it could have been so much worse. When the ship’s engines took damage yesterday and we started falling from the planet’s orbit, I thought we were all goners.

I suppose our survival is largely thanks to Human Fatima who risked her life and grabbed everyone and yanked as many as she could reach into the nearest closet. Between her and Human James and Biet Kuhir bracing the walls, we made it out with relatively minor injuries. I mean, we were all hurting, our medic is busy as frewan, but we're all alive.

The humans showed us how to construct some "lean-tos" out of parts of the ship to sleep in tonight. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Apparently survival training in the wilderness is part of human upbringing? Or part of their required disciplines? I’m not sure. Before, I would have said that such requirements would have been a bit excessive, but now? I and every other survivor are very thankful for their preparedness.

Hopefully tomorrow we can figure out the rest of what we need: clean water, safe food sources, etc. I'm just glad we have scanners. They could very well be lifesavers for those tasks.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 3

I said earlier that no one in our unit had sustained too serious of injuries. That's not to say anyone's in great condition, but we're hobbling around as best we can. The humans seem to be recovering remarkably fast. I know, I know, that may sound like their typical MO, but even medic Kippari Sefra seemed a bit taken back by their recovery and improved mobility. All's for the best, I suppose, the rest of the unit seems to barely be in commission. The humans have managed to forage and gather food and have been carrying water from a spring they found not too far from our site. They even gathered wood and started two fires in our camp yesterday. They left Kuhir and I and a few others to tend to them on shifts as they continue to gather supplies or construct better shelters. I don't know where they've found this newfound energy of theirs, but may the stars bless them.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 8

Humans are weird, but I don’t think even they are supposed to be this weird.

Our camp has transformed into a nearly proper little village with all the work the humans have put into it. And it’s just the two of them! They are tireless, I swear! But not in the way they usually are, no. Everyone knows humans have ridiculous levels of endurance. This goes way beyond that. They move as if their blood’s been replaced with trimethylxanthine, or as they fondly call it, caffeine. Our scanners have not found any trace of the poison in the air or in any of the plants we’ve been consuming, so it’s not caffeine. Even if it was, their levels of energy still go beyond that. I’ve seen a human on caffeine plenty of times, they took out a third of an enemy boarding party on their own with nothing but a bent pipe. They’re crazy energetic, but then they always crash and need extra sleep.

Humans Fatima and James just keep going though, at even higher and higher levels of energy. Medic Kippari has been monitoring them, but they seem fine. They keep telling us to stop worrying and that they’ve never felt better.

But that’s not even the weirdest part.

Since the camp has been coming along so well, and since I’ve been able to get some rest and healing, I volunteered to go out with Human Fatima to help gather food. There are a lot of trees nearby and many have fruits that our scanners have confirmed are safe for everyone to eat. We were gathering up as many foods as we could in the baskets we had woven from some sturdy grasses when Fatima spied some fruits. They were ones we had found early on to be safe and they were so good we had eaten as many as we could until they started becoming scarce in our immediate area. These were the first ones we had found in a few days. The problem was, they were at the top of a very tall tree. Humans, turriets, and even a few of the larger skeeps are pretty decent at climbing trees, but this tree had no good holds or branches low enough to reach.

Did that stop Human Fatima? IT SHOULD HAVE?!?!?!

She put down her basket, braced herself and jumped. And I mean jumped. Like, five times her own height!

Now, I can’t say that I’m a human expert by any means, but even I know that’s not normal! What in the shining light is going on around here?!!?!

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 9

Okay, still pretty freaked out from yesterday. No one knows how Fatima can jump like that, the gravity on this planet is normal. I suppose that’s a bit lighter than gravity on their home planet, but not by much. Certainly not enough for a 50 crute jump straight up! After we got back to the camp and informed everyone, especially Medic Kippari, who is getting more and more overwhelmed with trying to figure out all the strange behaviors and changes of our humans. As soon as Human James found out what Fatima did, he tried doing the same. The humans have gotten stuck in the tops of trees three times today alone.

The most confounding thing is that no one else in our unit seems to be experiencing the same changes.

No one’s sure how to feel about this. Whatever’s going on with the humans, they still seem to be in a stable condition. Granted, it’s a weird and unprecedented condition as far as anyone here’s concerned, but it’s stable. Even if it wasn’t, it’s not like we can really do anything about it in our situation.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 13

We were attacked today. Wild creatures native to this planet were passing through and must not have liked that we were in their territory. They showed no signs of advanced intelligence or sentience, just feral hunger and viciousness. We could hear them braying long before we saw them. I’ll be honest, I was very tempted to hide myself in the rough shelters with the wounded - the beasts were terrifying! - but I knew I could never live with myself after such cowardice. I grabbed what weapons I could and waited. When the pack of them came into our little clearing, I started praying my last rites. I was sure this would be it.

The creatures were huge, hairy, and had wicked tusks and sharp claws on the end of each of their six legs. What really got me were the pale eyes though. Looking into them, I thought my soul would liquify into my toes. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity, just hoping beyond a hope that they would leave us be. They didn’t though, the breeze shifted towards them and they started approaching and snarling with what I’m sure must have been hunger.

Before they could get too far, Fatima and James jumped at them, yelling and screaming. This startled everyone, but the monsters seemed to recover quicker and weren’t happy. I know a lot of crews like having humans around because of their reckless bravery and fierce protective instincts for those they bond with, but in that moment, I cursed them. I thought for sure they would be ripped to shreds in front of our eyes.

Instead, as the beasts leapt, the humans would grab them right out of the air and toss them across the clearing like they were a pack of gooji fruits. Their numbers swarmed the humans, but beyond any scrap of logic or understanding, the humans kept fighting, punching, scratching, throwing, etc.

I’m not sure how long it all went on, I was too numb from shock to correctly account for time, but eventually the pack of creatures retreated, squealing in fear of the strange monsters that kept them from what should have been an easy meal.

We checked them over and couldn’t believe what we saw. They weren’t hurt at all. Those beasts had been all over them, cutting, slashing and biting, but the humans’ skin looked like they’d hardly been touched.

I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on. I… something is wrong, or… hhhhhhrrrrr… this is weird. This is weird and I feel sick with worry. What is going on with our humans?!?!

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 16

Okay. I’m going to be honest with you, entry log and whoever finds this. Things just keep getting weirder and weirder, and I fear I’m just starting to get to a point where I can no longer be shocked. That may just be a defense mechanism, after all, if I continued to freak out over everything that’s been going on with Humans Fatima and James, I think I would mentally break down.

I just… I guess this is just happening. … Anyway.

Developments with the humans since we crashed on the planet’s surface include: rapid healing, increased strength and endurance, nearly impenetrable skin (as far as we dare test), extremely high jumping, night vision, increased speed and agility, super-keen hearing, and apparently the radiation of the sun doesn’t bother their skin in the slightest (this is apparently a problem on their home planet), in fact being in the sun all day, hard at work I might add) they seem to end up all the more radiant and full of energy. *sigh* Well, at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started flying or whatever next.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 20

The humans can now fly. Well, not properly fly, fly. More like when they reach the zenith of their jumps, they can hover a bit and control their descent. Do you want to know what my reaction was when I saw that for the first time? I just said, “Sure. This might as well happen.” Because that’s basically where I’m at now. No one knows what the frewan is going on. Hopefully the Glip Unit will have some insight.

Oh yea, I forgot to mention, we got a transmitter to work from the ship’s wreckage. Um, yeah, that probably should have been, like, the first thing I said, but honestly humans are flying now so…

Anyway, we made contact with the Glip Unit, apparently they were able to survive as well. They suffered a few casualties and had more injured than our unit, but considering their unit is larger, the probability of that being the case was high. The section of the ship they were in must have broke off from ours when we fell. They’ve got some humans in their unit, so maybe they have some insight for us. They’re bringing their tech too, so hopefully we can build a transmitter strong enough to send an SOS off-world.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 25

The Glip Unit arrived today. They have four humans in their group. That’s how they were able to pack over what must have basically been half the wreckage from their part of the ship. As well as their injured, supplies, and important resources from near their crash site. Everyone carried as much as they could, but they, or I mean the humans, carried the vast bulk. They crashed over 40 PS units away from us. So obviously their humans are experiencing the same changes ours are.

The ship’s chief science officer was with them though, and they did have a few interesting theories as to what caused these impossible changes. The most widely believed ones have to do with radiation. We’re not sure from what though, or why it’s not affecting anyone else. Human James brought it up that it was from the sun’s radiation. This planet is orbiting a blue giant. I think he was jesting because he also went on to explain about some “super man” who was from a planet with a red giant of a star who came to Earth and the yellow star’s radiation gave him incredible (and I mean that literally that they surely cannot be credible) super powers like super strength, x-ray and heat vision, super speed, and flight. Okay, that last one really made me stop and consider for a second. Well, those last two points actually.

But… no. That story is preposterous and obviously fictional. I’m pretty sure I even heard something about a “comic book.” From what I understand of human culture, I believe that means it’s just a fictional story made for entertainment or propaganda. Even the other humans, although more willing to entertain the idea, surely have taken it as a joke the way they are laughing and going on about it.

There must be some other reason. A logical explanation.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 38

I realize it’s been a while since my last entry. I had to share my “bunk” as it were with some of the newcomers from the other unit and somehow misplaced my comm device in the shuffle. I’ve spent the better part of two days looking for this flargin’ thing. Turns out I had left it by the meal preparation fire spot. How did I find it? I didn’t. Human Rafael of the Glip Unit did. How? Apparently, when he found out I had lost it, he tracked it down through scent.

I’ve read the human handbook. I know that humans don’t have the greatest sense of smell, especially not in comparison to my own. And yet, I couldn’t track down my own comm device, but a human could. I’ve added this to the very long and still-growing list of new and improved abilities the humans have exhibited since arriving.

Well, um, also there’s been a bit of activity in the past twelve days while my comm was missing. Like I said, the Glip Unit moved in. Everything has been very smooth with combining forces and resources. We managed to set up a transmitter that’s been sending out a signal and how to find us this last week. We haven’t had any feedback from it yet, but it’s only been a few days.

We had a few more native creatures visit our camp. None as scary as the first beasts that attacked us, though there was a flock of small flying reptiles that took to dive bombing and biting at us. Once they were scared off, we later found that Humans James, Mae, and Boris had caught a few and were attempting to keep them as pets. We had them release their “tiny dragons” as they called them.

They weren’t happy, but listened and followed. Honestly at this point, I’m just glad the humans are still respecting the established line of authority. This is a wild planet, after all. We’re surrounded by nature’s laws of the strongest doing as they please, and honestly, the humans are without a doubt the strongest here. I don’t think they’ll do anything, stars forbid if they decided to mutiny. I do believe in our bonds though. I have faith in their loyalty and our friendships. Humans, even before all the weirdness this planet has added to them, have always been renowned for their legendary familial ties and pack bonding. I don’t think these new powers can strip them of that.

And honestly, I hope that my faith is accurately placed, because if not, we are in trouble.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 44

I hope that our signal will be found, but no one knows how long that will take for it to heard and then send a response and for them to arrive to save us. It could be tomorrow, it could be… well it could be a long time from tomorrow.

The humans are concerned about food supplies. At first, many of us were confused at why. There’s plenty of fruit in the trees, roots in the ground, and non-poisonous wildlife to hunt. It was pointed out by some in my unit that such supplies could change. Their home planets, as well as the human’s planet experience what are known as seasons. It could be warm and plentiful for a space of time now, but it could rotate through times of cold barrenness that we are not currently prepared for.

We don’t know enough about the orbital path and tilt of this planet to know if such seasons could affect us.

Even though we’re not sure, the humans have been arguing that we should prepare for “winter.” They want to do this by reinforcing our huts for possible cold weather, gathering extra wood and storing it for fires, gathering soft plant fibers or tanning hides from some of the beasts that the humans and biets have killed for food, saying that they could make extra clothes with them to keep warm. For the most part, these actions seem pretty harmless, they are using the resources or byproducts of resources we’re already using. On some, the preparations are a bit time-consuming, but honestly, if it’s keeping the humans busy and occupied in their “spare time,” all the better.

The only real qualms some have with their preparations are the human’s requests to start planting seeds from the fruits and plants we’ve gathered for food. That would make sense in the long-run, but I had to voice my concerns with everyone - I know enough about human cultures to know that if they begin cultivating crops, the rest of humanity might view this planet as a human colony. It wouldn’t matter if the humans had only planted the crops for survival. Or if those humans were crew members of a Galactic Confederation crew. Similar things have happened with planets in the past, and the political disputes are still going on. I just… I don’t want to go there. The humans have argued that if they don’t do something to stock up for winter, we won’t even be around for such future disputes. I argued that we don’t even know if this planet will have a winter.

Acting Lieutenant Greetch decided that we would not allow crops to be planted. The humans weren’t happy, and honestly, I’m a little nervous. Not just because the humans are upset with the decision, but also because, what if they’re right? What if winter comes and we starve?

By the stars, I hope we’re found soon.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 50

We received a response to our SOS signal! It’s from a Galactic Confederation ship. They’re coming for us! We’re getting out of here!

Everyone’s thrilled. We’re preparing a party of sorts - lots of food and games. Might as well use up the resources we’ve gathered, we’ve got plenty and will be gone soon anyway. We’ll even have left-overs to bring aboard the ship when it arrives, barring no one aboard has any allergies to our local fruits.

Entry Log, Post Crash Day 61

We saw the ship hovering in the sky this morning, high up in the atmosphere. By midday, several shuttles had been launched down to ferry us and our supplies aboard.

The Captain of the ship, Captain Benga, and a few officers and medics came down to survey our condition. They were impressed by our camp and even more so with the means of how it was put together. They’re just as baffled with the humans’ current condition as we are, though their medic did agree that some form of radiation did seem a possible cause. Captain Benga has asked that I turn in my entry logs once we get settled on the ESS Chickar.

I thought the humans would be happy to leave. However, I noticed they were the last ones to board the shuttles. They wandered forlornly through the huts that we were leaving behind, claiming that they were going to give the place “one last check to make sure nothing important is left behind.” Human Fatima had to be ordered to her seat after the second “all aboard” call was given.

I have a sneaking suspicion, or rather, maybe more of a foreboding feeling, that humanity is not done with the planet that they now insist on naming Krypton.

***

End Entry Log. Recording uploaded Galactic Stardate 208.147.4.2601 Data stored and copied aboard ESS Chickar.

Additional Notes:

Chief Medical Officer Squifra Gharti under Captain Liutan Benga. Concerning the humans found and rescued from the planet Tarsi 6 (Krypton) among Units Glip and Sen of the former ESS Luxena.

The six humans in question were found possessing awe-inspiring capabilities. From the included Entry Log, as well as from our own testing, we have listed their abilities to include prolonged stamina, vastly increased strength, agility, hearing, vision, smell, and speed. Healing speeds have been recorded up to 62 times more rapid than usual with certain injuries, though more serious wounds are unknown and will remain untested for obvious ethical reasons. Muscular structure appears to have remained largely unchanged from control group (humans assigned to ESS Chickar, as well as human anatomical information sources) and yet and capable of feats such as jumps over 67 standard miets, and are able to hover at the peak of their jump for up to a recorded two moortiks. Since the rescue, the limits of their new-found capabilities seem to be waning, albeit slowly. Time and additional study will be needed to know if the effects from the still-unknown source any of these changes on the planet will be permanent, or cause any additional side-effects in the future. Recommendation will include additional study as soon as we arrive at an appropriate facility. In the meantime, we are keeping the humans quarantined from our own crew’s humans in case any residual radiation affects them.

Many of the Luxena humans have shared insights that their changes were pleasant and wish to return to the planet. I would recommend keeping the information of all this within the Galactic Confederation confidentials for now. We do not need rogue humans or Earth agencies traveling to Krypton and then wreaking havoc on the rest of the galaxy.

#humans are weird #humans are space orcs #space #aliens #super powers #we just get weirder #can you imagine #krypton for earthlings #planets

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