#and I can’t even see if they’ve shipped or not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riotwritesthings · 2 days ago

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An Agony We Deserve (Throwing Off Sparks)

WinterIron, M, 5.8k, WIP - reluctant soulmates, angst, drinking, mentions of past ships

There are legends. Soulmate bonds have started and ended wars, they used to reshape the world without any warning. People would change in an instant, abandon and betray everything, become completely unrecognizable, but those are just legends- It can’t be- But they are.

This chapter suuuure went a direction. I really hope you enjoy and don't want to burn me at the stake ahaha

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

~~~

Chapter 3: the ceiling starts to swerve

“This is Colonel Rhodes.”

Rhodey sounds exhausted, and stressed, and Tony knows that as usual it’s at least ninety percent his fault. There’s a cacophony of noise in the background, and Tony’s willing to bet that he’s having a hell of a day.

He wishes he didn’t have to make it worse.

“Hey SourPatch,” Tony forces himself to say in greeting, his throat suddenly dry.

“Holy shit,” Rhodey says in a rush of air, his voice dropping in volume halfway through. There’s a shuffling sound, and then all the background noise is cut off by the heavy thud of a door closing. “Tony, what the hell happened?” He demands in a strained, tense whisper, "you- are you okay?"

“I- I’m fine,” Tony lies.

He’d hoped that hearing Rhodey’s voice would feel comforting, familiar.

Instead he feels… nothing.

No, not nothing. He is relieved to talk to Rhodey again.

But it feels more like- Some small part of him is relieved to have a link to the world. Anything outside of this weird little- soulmate bubble they’ve accidentally set up for themselves, some reminder of what’s real. But even that slice of relief is-

Disconnected.

There’s no warmth to it, no rush of calm comfort that Rhodey’s voice usually gives him. He remembers their decades of friendship perfectly clearly, but- There’s no connection to the voice on the other end of the line, like he’s talking to someone else.

Like he’s talking to a stranger.

Tony’s breath catches wetly in his throat and his eyes burn.

Fuck this stupid bond.

It’s already apparently taken most of his self-control and personal space, replacing them both with- with a stranger. It took all of his plans and goals in Berlin, and probably any remaining scraps of trust his team had in him.

And now this inexplicable thing, some weird imbalance of chemicals or something, is taking his oldest, closest relationship.

Barnes- Bucky- is still staring out the front window, keeping an eye out for whatever and pretending not to listen.

Tony is painfully aware of the distance between them, of the tension winding Bucky’s shoulders up tight. Tony can feel it like a pull in his own chest and if the phone weren’t mounted to the wall he would go over there-

He viciously shoves that thought down, shoves down the ache in his sternum.

Rhodey is still talking on the other end of the line, repeating his name in an increasingly frantic tone, and it’s a struggle to focus on that.

It’s so much easier to focus on the mere feet separating him from Bucky, the way it felt to wake up next to him. Whatever it is that’s been twisting Bucky tighter and tighter since they woke up-

“Tony-”

“I’m here,” Tony says quickly. “I’m okay.”

Over by the window, Bucky’s shoulders twitch up a little higher.

“What happened in Berlin?” Rhodey asks, sounding impossibly more freaked out than he had before.

And that’s the big question, isn’t it? Laughter bubbles up in Tony’s chest before he can stop it, high-pitched and hysterical.

“I’m- It’s- I really can’t get into it right now,” Tony says weakly around slips of laughter that he can’t contain, and he can hear Rhodey’s worry spiking.

Reading his best friend even without seeing him is still as familiar as breathing, but Tony doesn’t *feel * anything.

Not like he can feel Bucky trying and failing not to shift on his feet, painfully curious and trying to fight it. Or maybe just trying to hide it, Tony can’t quite tell but he’s sure that if he got closer-

It’s making it really hard to focus on the conversation. And fuck, he wants to talk to Rhodey. He swears he does. But suddenly it’s not as easy as it’s always been.

“Are you-” Rhodey asks carefully, his voice low, “are you still with him? Are you being held captive?”

The ‘again’ goes unspoken and Tony fights down another hysterical giggle.

He is, but not in any of the ways Rhodey would be expecting. He’s being held captive by himself, by an inability to leave Bucky behind that is so deep-set the idea hasn’t even fully occurred to him.

“Yes, but no, he- he’s here, but it’s nothing like that,” Tony says, because that’s the easy answer. “This is not a Taken situation.”

“That’s not- never mind,” Rhodey says, and things must be really bad if he’s not taking the time to correct Tony on the finer points of action movies.

Fuck, why doesn’t he feel anything?

“So- What then?” Rhodey asks slowly, struggling to wrap his brain around the situation when Tony can’t tell him anything. "Did- I mean, you didn’t- did you kidnap Barnes?"

Tony laughs again and part of him wants to say yes. They kidnapped each other, and themselves, and now they’re holding themselves hostage.

But he knows Rhodey is in no mood for vague jokes.

“Why and how would I have done that?” Tony asks with a strangled chuckle. He remembers the way Barnes had been fighting before they ran into each other, all vicious, brutal efficiency. Even if he’d had his suit, Tony’s not sure he could have gotten The Winter Soldier out of there against the man’s will. At least not alive.

"I don’t know," Rhodey says in a huff, annoyance briefly winning out over his worry, “but Rogers is convinced that you absconded with his friend for some reason.”

“Why?” Tony sputters out while Bucky twitches again.

The other man is more tense than ever, wound so tightly that he’s about to snap. Tony can feel it in his teeth and he wants to dig his fingers into the muscles of Bucky’s shoulders, feel the warmth of him as the tension slowly fades-

"You tell me," Rhodey shoots back. "I’ve seen the security footage, Tones, and no one knows what to think. It looks a hell of a lot like the two of you just- left together."

“That is-” Tony says with a wince, “the extremely short version.” He can tell Rhodey is about to jump in with more questions, and Tony really wants to get to the reason he called. “So, what are people saying, exactly? Other than Steve.”

Rhodey lets out a long, heavy sigh, but tells him.

It’s about as bad as he expected.

There are people who think Tony was captured by the mysterious terrorist, and of course people who think he went rogue and recruited Bucky for his own nefarious purposes. About half of the team thinks it’s some kind of mind control, which would probably break Tony’s heart if he stopped to let himself think about it. But he just urges Rhodey to continue.

Ross has managed to convince a concerning number of people who matter that Tony is some kind of sleeper agent for Hydra, taking back possession of their soldier. Which is an insulting angle for the man to take, he can’t even imagine Tony as a high-ranking undercover genius?

And apparently, Steve thinks Tony kidnapped his best friend. Tony isn’t sure if he should be offended or not. Honestly, he can’t figure out what Steve thinks his reason would be.

“All in all, about half the world is hunting the two of you for one reason or another,” Rhodey finishes. He doesn’t waste a second before demanding, "Now are you going to tell me why?

“I’m sorry, Platypus,” Tony says, and he means it. He wishes he felt it. “I just- I couldn’t-”

Tony knows how he wants to finish that sentence.

‘I couldn’t let anyone take him, couldn’t not go with him, couldn’t fight it.’

But he can’t say any of that out loud, it’s still too raw and terrifying even in his own mind. The power that the bond has over him is still- It’s like a light that’s too bright to look at directly, he can’t face it fully yet.

And he definitely can’t put it into words or he’s pretty sure he’ll throw himself right back into a panic attack.

“I- There was- a thing, and we had to get out of there,” Tony finally says weakly. “And I- I can’t explain it any more than that right now.”

He can hear Rhodey’s displeasure with that answer, but Tony doesn’t feel as guilty as he should. He feels guilty that he doesn’t feel more guilty.

Tony’s chest clenches and he can feel Bucky fighting the urge to turn away from the window to look at him.

“I will, eventually,” Tony promises and hopes like hell it’s not another lie. “I just- I have to wrap my head around this first,” he adds, “and- hopefully my brain won’t fucking explode in the process.”

Rhodey blows out a hard sigh and then asks, “You’ve really gotten yourself into it this time, haven’t you, Tones?”

“You have no idea, SourPatch,” Tony says, fighting down another strangled laugh. He tears his gaze away from Bucky for probably the first time in the conversation so he can rub at his dry eyes. “First I have to- fuck, figure out how to fix this.”

“Well,” Rhodey starts slowly, "it would help a whole hell of a lot if you brought Barnes back-"

“No,” Tony cuts him off, surprising everyone with the vehemence in his voice.

When he drops his hand away from his face he catches Bucky’s eye for a moment, wide and so blue, before Bucky whips his head back around to the window.

“I can’t do that,” Tony continues, trying to keep his tone normal, “he- he’s innocent, Rhodey, he wasn’t even in Vienna.”

He doesn’t need Bucky nodding at the window to confirm it, somehow Tony knows. He’s felt it in the confused tension still wound tightly through Bucky’s chest. In the quiet, terrified exhaustion that started to set in as soon as they made it out of Germany.

Bucky doesn’t know why, or how, but he knows he’s being framed. So Tony knows it too. And he knows that true to Bucky’s word, he’s so used to not having control that he’s not even surprised to be used in this new and creative way.

Rhodey sighs. "Well then, bring him back and prove-"

“C’mon Platypus,” Tony cuts him off again, “you know it isn’t that easy. Someone already got to him while he was in ‘safe custody,’ and if that doesn’t happen again then he’s likely to get ‘disappeared,’ and I can’t-”

Tony’s voice comes to an abrupt stop as his chest clenches painfully, his throat pulling tight. The thought of someone trying to take Bucky away-

The force of the fury that rushes over him knocks the air out of his lungs. Through the pounding of blood in his ears all he can think is that he can’t let that happen, he can’t- he won’t.

No one is going to take his soulmate away from him, not at any cost.

Somewhere far, far beneath the weight of that knowledge, the rational sliver of his mind that remains is terrified to find out what price he’ll be willing to pay.

He doesn’t even want a- but he won’t be able to fight it any more than he’s been able to resist the bond until now, he already attacked Natasha without thought- What else would he do-

Bucky lets out a low, pained sound that Tony snaps out of his spiraling thoughts.

The fuzz and dancing spots fade from his vision as he drags in a shuddering breath, and he sees that Bucky is still politely staring out the window. He can tell that Bucky isn’t actually seeing anything though, too caught up in his own thoughts, in the tension pulling his shoulders painfully tight.

Tony forces himself to take another slow breath, and Bucky relaxes minutely.

"Hey, Tones, Tony-" Rhodey is saying in his ear and it filters slowly into Tony’s consciousness, so much less important than watching Bucky’s hand shake as he balls it into a fist.

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” Tony forces out, his voice rough.

He must sound really bad, because Rhodey takes pity on him and doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Look,” he says, almost as gently as he spoke when Tony first came back from Afghanistan, “I’ve been working to clear up all the most ridiculous lies. Are you safe right now, wherever you are?”

Tony only has to stare at Bucky’s back for a second before the man nods stiffly.

“As safe as I can be in a haunted shack,” Tony replies with a weak attempt at a smile, hoping that Rhodey can hear it over the line.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, “okay, here’s the plan.”

~~~

Tony is not a fan of the plan.

He doesn’t like that Rhodey is fighting Ross and his ridiculous lies for him. He doesn’t like that he’s just supposed to wait until Rhodey can make sure that they won’t be black-bagged the second they step foot back on the grid.

And he especially doesn’t like that he’s supposed to wait here, in the farmhouse from hell. With its outhouse and its single broken bed.

Despite the size of the mess, part of him had been looking forward to cleaning it up. Arguing with Steve and rich old senators is at least familiar, would make him feel like he still has some semblance of control over his life.

He was really fucking looking forward to feeling in control again.

Instead he’s still stuck out here, just him and Bucky.

It’s like they’ve left the rest of the world behind and Tony- He needs to get back to the real world. He can’t fight the bond but maybe he could- could ignore it a little more with other people around, with all the complicated problems that he can’t- He can barely remember right now.

The Accords, the Avengers, SI and everything, it’s all so far away. And if he doesn’t get back to it soon-

He’s not sure that he’ll want to.

With a frustrated sigh Tony finally stops glaring at the phone hanging on the wall.

Bucky is still standing at the front window, resolutely pretending to ignore Tony’s conversation. Despite everything, Tony feels a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, excellent ignoring,” Tony says with a huff, “you can stop now.”

After a second of hestiation, his fists still clenched, Bucky turns to face him again and-

Blue.

Tony’s next inhale is so much easier, like his lungs are filling fully for the first time since Bucky stepped across the shack. It’s so damn nice, all the stress of the phone call melting away. The guilt and the distance of hiding from his best friend are inconsequential.

The real world is all mistakes and panic attacks. Why does he need-

Bucky’s gaze drops to the floor and Tony’s chest pulls tight again.

Something is still tearing Bucky apart, and he doesn’t know what.

It’s been getting worse and worse since they woke up, since whatever occurred to him and ruined their relatively peaceful morning. And Tony doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t think it’s just Bucky taking his turn with the panic attack. It’s related to being stuck here for an unknown amount of time, the tension spiked sharply when that part of the plan came up, but that’s not the whole story.

Whatever it is, it’s stabbing through Bucky’s lungs and turning his stomach, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tony can feel it like a phantom pain in his own chest, he can feel it crawling its way up Bucky’s throat.

The silence stretches as Bucky stares at the floor and Tony stares at him. Tony’s pulse is picking up as the tension builds.

It- it’s bad. It’s hanging over them like an anvil, like a guillotine, and Tony stops breathing as Bucky takes a shuddering inhale.

Bucky opens his mouth, and Tony tries to brace himself.

But all Bucky says is, “I was tryin’ not to listen.” His tone is sheepish but his voice is tight, nearly strangled.

Tony lets out a hard rush of air. Part of him wants to pry, most of him wants to pry, but-

He shouldn’t even know that something’s wrong with Bucky. They don’t actually know each other, they met yesterday.

Without the bond he wouldn’t be able to read Bucky at all, or at least not nearly this well. If he tries to pry- It’s like he’s giving into the bond. Accepting it.

And he can’t do that.

So Tony forces himself to let it go, to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s carefully blank face.

“If we’re stuck here, there better be food,” Tony says as he turns towards the small kitchen. “I am not above eating you for survival.”

After a couple of seconds Bucky silently shuffles after him, like he just can’t help himself.

There is food, and most of it is still safely packed in cans and sealed jars. Even if it doesn’t look very appetizing. There’s no coffee, though, which means that Tony’s headache is only going to get worse.

While Bucky hopefully determines if the water is safe, Tony slams through the cabinets a final time. He’s not pouting, but he’s also not actually expecting to find anything else.

Until he discovers the large jar of clear liquid hidden in the back of a high cabinet.

“'S that moonshine?” Bucky asks, suddenly standing just close enough that Tony can feel the rumble of his voice.

“Samanė, I believe,” Tony says, already unscrewing the lid, “which, basically the same thing.”

He’s trying to ignore the shiver running down his spine. And he’s trying even harder to ignore the urge to lean back into Bucky and chase the feeling.

It may not be the best idea at the moment, but Tony does need a distraction. And if he’s stuck here then he’ll take what he can get.

~~~

"This’s strong," Bucky says, squinting into his chipped glass.

Tony hums in agreement.

He’s not sure where his own glass is. He knows he had it when he dropped down onto the couch.

Before he can work up the effort to look for it Bucky is picking Tony’s glass up from the ground and offering it to him. Tony takes it with a grunt of thanks. Bucky quickly returns to staring into his own glass.

His next swig of the strong liquor doesn’t burn, just settles nicely in the warm pit of Tony’s stomach.

The tension is being forcibly melted out of his limbs. All the problems are being drowned out by the pleasant buzzing between his ears.

He considers the other man, because through the warm haze nothing else matters. And he can’t quite remember why that matters right now.

Bucky decided to sit in front of the couch when Tony sprawled out over the entire thing. He’s been shooting Tony increasingly un-subtle looks as they drink. With the way he’s leaning back, if Tony just moved his leg a little it would press against the strong, tense line of Bucky’s shoulders.

Tony takes another sip and forces himself to stay still.

Bucky glances over him again. The faintest hint of pink is spreading across his cheeks.

They’ve been carefully not talking since they started drinking. They don’t really need to.

But Tony still finds himself asking, “Is this- is it doin’ anythin’ for you?”

Bucky looks over at him and Tony tips his glass in explanation. Bucky’s lips twitch as he nods. He returns his gaze to his half-empty glass, then downs it.

"An’ it’s disinfectin’ my throat," Bucky says with a cough and a wince.

“Good,” Tony says as Bucky grabs for the jar again, "pretty sure you’re drinkin’ most of it. And if you’re just doin’ it to feel the burn I will- I’m gonna be mad."

Bucky snorts as he refills his glass.

“And Steve can- can’t even get drunk,” Tony adds.

The words slip out before he can think them through. The way that Bucky flinches minutely at the name isn’t really a surprise. Tony feels bad for bringing it up, he feels-

A lot of things.

He slid further down against the arm of the couch at some point and he’s mostly staring at the stained ceiling. His shin is pressed against the line of Bucky’s shoulders and he doesn’t remember doing that either. It takes effort to lift his head enough to keep Bucky in his field of view.

Now that he’s started Tony can’t seem to stop talking. The words are bubbling up in his throat and he can’t quite remember why he shouldn’t let them out.

So much for their unspoken ‘no speaking’ agreement.

"Still can’t believe he thinks I fuckin’- That I kidnapped you," he says with a snort.

Bucky’s metal thumb moves restlessly around his glass. It clicks against the chipped rim.

“No of-ffense,” Tony adds. He rolls his head along the arm of the couch to stare sideways at Bucky. “You just- you seem more the kidnapper- kidnappy type.”

He watches with fascination as emotions make their way across Bucky’s face. Wondering if he should be offended followed by reluctant amusement. Tony can feel all of it.

And he can feel the cold knot that wraps itself back around Bucky’s lungs as soon as the moment is gone. Tony still can’t put a name to the feeling and he’s getting pretty sick of all the things he can’t explain.

Like what’s bothering Bucky. And the fact that he has a soulmate. And why Steve would even think-

“Wait,” Tony says, failing his way upright. He spills a good half of his drink on his undershirt and takes a split second to wonder when he lost his dress shirt. “Wait,” he says again and has to blink a couple times as the room spins, “wait, did- tell me I didn’-”

He trails off, trying to tell through the haze of liquor if what he’s remembering is real. Bucky looks up at him again, and Tony’s breath catches.

Fuck, when is that going to stop happening? He already has enough trouble breathing.

Bucky is still staring at him and Tony struggles to remember what he’d been about to say.

“Was- Is there any truth to the rumors of- of war-torn lovers?” Tony asks, alarm creeping into his voice. "Did I steal Captain America’s boyfriend?"

The way Bucky’s eyes go wide and his shoulders hunch up around his ears says plenty, even as his mouth opens and closes wordlessly.

Tony groans as he flops heavily back down onto the couch. At least he doesn’t spill his drink this time. There’s a laugh building in his chest, edged with hysteria. It certainly explains a lot.

“I think he might- he might actually kill me,” Tony says to the shifting patterns on the ceiling.

They fall into silence while Tony tries to wrap his head around just how fucked up this is. He can hear Bucky finishing off another glass. His own drink is suddenly sitting a little too warm in his gut.

“It wasn’-” Bucky says slowly and Tony cranes his head around to look at him. “It wasn’ really like that. Or- We jus’- We never-”

“Never quite found the right time?” Tony guesses when he trails off. Because isn’t that how all the tragedies go?

Bucky nods into his empty glass, his expression twisted in misery.

The hot pit of something in Tony’s stomach is getting worse, starting to crawl its way up his throat. He’d almost think he’s about to be sick except-

He’s jealous. It’s jealousy burning its way through his chest, familiar but twisted.

Which is stupid for so many reasons, but the biggest one is that he doesn’t need to be. According to all the legends Bucky can’t- They’re stuck together now. Neither one of them can leave.

Tony has to remind himself that it’s because they don’t have a choice. It shouldn’t be comforting, to know that someone can’t leave him, can never even want to-

No, he wants Bucky- Someone, he wants someone to have a choice about staying with him.

He tells himself that’s what he wants. He wishes he believed it.

“I need more- more booze,” Tony says as he pushes himself upright, "way more booze for this fuckin'- conversation."

Bucky hands him the jar, turning towards him in the process. Tony squints at the amount of liquid remaining before taking a swig directly from the jar.

"You- What’d you mean, rumors?" Bucky asks. His eyebrows are pinched and it’s-

Definitely not adorable.

Tony hums and takes another sip, stalling.

“You, uh-” he says slowly, “the two of you- may have been a brief topic. In my- Um, in my queer history elective?”

Bucky blinks slowly. Then he lets out a long groan and drops his face to the couch cushion next to Tony’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Tony says with a wince and does his best not to laugh. “Is that- Is it better or worse than bein’ a ghost?”

“Worse,” Bucky mutters into the couch.

Tony decides not to tell him about the recovered sketches that were shown in that class.

When Bucky eventually lifts his head again it’s to steal the jar of Samanė back and take a long drink. His face is distinctly more flushed and loose strands of hair are clinging to his forehead.

The rest of the room is spinning, but Tony has no problem focusing on the tired blue of Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky looks away again, embarrassment and some new flavor of guilt twisting him up. There’s no sadness though, and Tony’s pretty sure that’s the reason for at least half of the guilt.

“You- Don’ feel bad,” Tony says and nudges his knee against Bucky’s shoulder. “Who- I mean who hasn’t had a big ol’ crush on Steve?” He adds sarcastically.

He slowly realizes he’d forgotten to add any sarcasm to his voice as Bucky raises an eyebrow at him. Tony could try to play it off, but he can feel his own cheeks warming. And Bucky will see right through him.

“There was a fan club at my boarding school,” Tony says defensively. He’s not sure if it helps his point or not.

Bucky snorts out a laugh halfway through taking another drink and winces. Tony doesn’t feel bad for him. But he can’t stop talking.

"And then I met Steve, which- He’s- I mean, I guess I don’t have to tell you-" Tony finds himself saying, despite swearing he’d never admit this to anyone.

It’s easier than he would have thought. The battle of New York and everything that followed feels so far away now. He remembers all the feelings, the hurt followed by longing and the sting of rejection when Steve- when no one stayed-

But it’s like it all happened to someone else. Like he read it in a story.

Bucky is still watching him, arm propped up on the couch. The flush of liquor doesn’t hide the complicated mix of emotions moving over his face as he waits.

"Not that anythin’ ever- y’know, happened," Tony finishes quickly and doesn’t bother wondering why he needs to assure Bucky of that. “He never- And I’m me, so-”

Tony sinks his teeth into his lower lip, cutting himself off. Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. He starts to open his mouth, and Tony cuts him off too.

“And then someone came back to life,” he says with the best glare he can work up at the moment, “an’ there- there went my chance. Or my delusional dream of a chance, anyways.”

Bucky winces apologetically and offers him the liquor. Tony laughs and takes it while he watches the other man clench his jaw. This time he knows exactly what Bucky is feeling.

“Super weird backward jealousy pangs, right?” He asks knowingly and tries not to be pleased about it. He fails.

A wry smile pulls at Bucky’s lips as he nods slightly. He drops his gaze to the couch and watches himself pick at the worn fabric.

“An’- An’ what about now?” Bucky asks without looking up. “Was- I-Is there-”

It takes Tony a second to figure out what he’s asking, and then he huffs.

“No, no worries,” he says, leaning forward slightly to pat Bucky’s metal elbow. “You’re not the- the homewrecker here, jus’ me.”

For a second he doesn’t even remember that that wouldn’t have been true, a couple of weeks ago.

The breakup with Pepper had been so fresh and raw even- fuck, just a day ago. When he’d been reluctantly admitting it to Steve and fighting down a twisted mess of emotions. Now it doesn’t hurt any worse than when his first crush had laughed in his face.

The soulmate bond makes one hell of a bandaid, and at least that’s something.

Bucky is still staring at him, like he can see Tony going over all of that in his mind. And he probably can. Tony’s hand is still resting on the other man’s metal arm, and he wonders if Bucky can feel it.

The silence stretches and Tony takes an uncomfortable swig of Samanė. He should probably move his hand, but he doesn’t.

“I am- 'M pretty good at chasing people off all- all on my own,” he can’t help adding, and Bucky’s eyebrows furrow again. “Don’ make that face at me,” Tony says and lifts his hand to poke Bucky between the eyebrows instead.

Bucky blinks and his face softens in surprise. Then he laughs, and Tony grins as his heart thumps in his chest. Bucky reaches up to grab Tony’s hand and pull it away from his face. Their fingers fit together without any effort and Bucky’s skin is surprisingly soft against his.

“Why d’you- you keep-” Bucky starts and then trails off, distracted. He runs his thumb over a burn scar on the side of Tony’s hand.

Tony’s breath catches and doesn’t restart as Bucky’s thumb moves down to his palm. He can feel the swirls of Bucky’s thumbprint against his skin. Every drag sends a bolt of warmth through him that the warmth of the liquor can’t compare to.

He inhales shakily when Bucky looks up at him, caught in those blue eyes.

What had they been talking about? He doesn’t remember now.

Bucky licks his lips and Tony stares. The way they’ve been drinking, they probably taste the same- And once the thought hits him Tony has to know-

He’s not sure which of them leans forward. Maybe him, because the room is spinning again. Bucky sighs and Tony can feel the rush of air against his cheek.

Tony shifts his fingers against Bucky’s wrist and realizes he can feel Bucky’s rapid pulse. He’s pretty sure his own heart is beating in time and he’s still moving closer.

It’s like he’s being pulled in, like he doesn’t have a choice.

Does he even need a choice? This feels- Why does he need anything else when this is so-

Right.

He can almost feel Bucky’s lips against his. Tony’s eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep them open.

He wants-

Beneath his fingers, Bucky’s pulse skips. It stops entirely for a terrifying second, then starts racing sickeningly. Something cold rushes through Bucky and he sucks in a sharp breath as he jerks away.

His hand slips away from Tony’s.

It’s just like this morning. The same icy chill running through Bucky as he pulls away. The same gut-twisting feeling that’s- It’s like guilt but so much more complicated.

It's different than when they were talking about Steve, or anything else. It’s-

Part of Tony doesn’t want to know.

Bucky won’t meet his eyes. He’s curling in on himself, withdrawing.

And Tony can’t let that happen. He can’t let this keep happening. He can’t-

He tightens his grip on the nearly empty jar and swallows thickly.

“Alright, out with it,” he says.

“What?” Bucky asks, practically flinching. He pulls his arm off the couch and curls it into his chest.

“Out with it,” Tony repeats, his voice shaking. “Whatever you need to tell me, just spill. It- It’s been driving you crazy all day and that- it’s driving me crazy.”

Bucky goes carefully still. He doesn’t look up. He’s not breathing.

Tony waits. He bites his lip again so he won’t start demanding answers.

There are already so many things right now that he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand. He needs to know.

What could be so bad?

This isn’t- Bucky isn’t supposed to be able to pull away. He can’t, that’s not how it- This isn’t fair.

Tony can’t completely swallow down a hurt noise. His eyes burn. It feels like his chest is cracking open, his lungs filling with ice- with snow-

Bucky’s gaze flicks up to him and then down again, expression pained. Blue eyes haunted.

Neither of them are breathing now.

He can’t stop thinking that none of this is fair.

Tony doesn’t- he didn’t even want a soulmate and now- The thought of Bucky pulling away is gutting him. It’s not fair that something as stupid as a secret is cracking his chest open.

It isn’t fair of him to need answers, either. Part of him knows that. They’d still be strangers, if they had a choice-

But they don’t.

“Bucky,” he says, his voice a harsh croak. A plea. He wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

The other man flinches like he’d shouted. Tony waits.

Finally Bucky drags in a shuddering breath and tears his eyes away from his own hands. He practically snatches the jar from Tony and finishes off the Samanė in one long swallow.

Tony’s stomach churns as he continues to wait.

Bucky takes another steadying breath and fixes his gaze over Tony’s shoulder. His jaw clenches. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

The crater in Tony’s chest gets deeper.

“N-Nine- Nineteen Ninety One,” Bucky eventually manages to get out. His voice is raw and his eyes are glazed, unseeing. “December n-ninet-teenth.”

That’s all he says for a long moment and Tony is still waiting.

He doesn’t even recognize the date for a split second, and then he’s just confused.

“I-I was-” Bucky continues haltingly. The feeling of cold gets worse. “I- It wasn’ an accident.”

It doesn’t makes sense. Tony knows that date, but it was- His parents died in an accident. He knows that. He-

“What?” Tony asks flatly. Blankly. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t- it doesn’t make sense.

Bucky swallows thickly. His cheeks are wet and all the color has faded from his face.

Tony wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

He can’t move.

“December N-Nineteenth,” Bucky says again. His hands are clenched together so tightly that they both shake. “It wasn’ an- I-I was there, I- I’m th- I-”

Bucky’s voice cuts off, strangled. He clenches his jaw.

There’s a sick feeling rising in Tony’s throat, and he’s not sure which of them it belongs to.

“You- what’re you-” Tony starts to ask, gasping the words out.

But he doesn’t need to.

Bucky blinks rapidly and then meets Tony’s eye. He looks so-

It-

Everything hurts.

And Tony-

He knows.

#my fic #winteriron #starkbucks #bucky/tony #buckyxtony #an agony we deserve #riot writes #reluctant soulmates

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kendrysaneela · 2 days ago

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Let’s discuss Avery,Tristan and Max’s bucket lists.

Tristan

Kitesurfing

Break a world record

Dog, house

Fall in love, family,married

Threesome

Avery

See the world

Doctor

Know herself

Perform because she wants joy and to be bold

Threesome

Max

See the world

Fall in love have kids teach them to rely on themselves

Life to have meaning

Threesome

Let’s talk about the threesome first because it’s only item on all their lists that is the exact same. First let’s discuss why they all may been so quickly on board for the threesome (besides ya know the obvious attraction they all have towards each other that they’ve been showing us since the pilot) all of them have white picket fantasies. Tristan and Max are much more open about them and wanting them than Avery they both mention that on their bucket lists and they mention it on their bucket lists and in other scenes. Avery however, she never mentions it to the boys and she doesn’t mention it on her bucket list. In fact she tells Max that she doesn’t really believe in marriage anymore after what happened between her and her first husband.

BUT the catch is that when Avery gets pregnant and she’s talking to her friends we learn she actually DOES want kids and DOES dream about the white picket fence life. And has had those thoughts relatively recently considering she just donated her eggs on their last hiatus and hasn’t even gotten back on the pill yet. But she just doesn’t discuss it really with the boys like they do with her. She keeps it closer to her chest. Which is understandable considering her last marriage she may not want to speak that into existence just yet worried it’ll be taken away from her again. But regardless she clearly DOES also want the white picket fence life. Or at least thinks she does.

They all have said they want the white picket fence life ya know husband/wife 2.5 kids. Now that is a perfectly okay and normal thing to want. HOWEVER. What’s important to acknowledge about that concept is that that is a heteronormative monogamous concept. Which most people in western countries such as the US and UK where Avery,Max and Tristan are from, are culturally conditioned to want. And monogamous heteronormativity can be dangerous sometimes. And Avery,Max and Tristan all saw that in action in episode 6. They watched this family be torn apart by their desperation to follow heteronormative monogamous norms. The mother of the bride,the bride,the groom,the best man,probably some of the bridesmaids and groomsmen too. All have their lives destroyed. So they’re walking around the ship talking about bucket lists talking about what they want their lives to be and what they want to be remembered as and who they wanna be. And Tristan brings up a threesome adds that to his bucket list.I think it’s important to acknowledge that even though Avery is the one who suggests the three of them have a threesome Tristan is the one who brought it up in the first place. Avery eagerly agrees with Tristan and makes that her fifth thing on her bucket list with the only prompt being she only had said four items. So she didn’t say it unprompted like Tristan did but she agree with that pretty enthusiastically. MAX however. Max. Max says four items. Then he is told he needs a fifth. He says can’t think of a fifth he says so he stalls. Then when (yet again Tristan) says it’s okay if Max says it’s a threesome. BUT. Max has already had a threesome. He won’t talk about it though. He made a pact. (Which he also did with Tristan and Avery which is interesting but that’s a whole other thing for a different analysis). But nevertheless they all end up having the threesome. Similar to their bucket lists Tristan and Avery start it and basically kind of coax Max into it. But Max does admit he enjoyed it and that it was wonderful and Avery and Tristan acknowledge they noticed he enjoyed it. And even with ya know everything that happened afterwards I think the threesome was a product of them sorta rejecting heteronormative monogamous norms at least on a subconscious level.

Then next items on the bucket list. They each have at least one similar item to each other besides the threesome.

Avery wants to travel the world (which she’s doing)

Max wants to travel the world (which he’s doing)

Tristan and Max both want to fall in love and have kids

The difference between Tristan and Max is that Max outright says he wants to fall in love and have kids and teach the kids to rely on themselves with no prompting

Tristan is prompted by Avery about “Six little Tristans” yes of course she’s quoting him when he said that earlier but she still had to prompt it this particular time

There were less direct similarities as well.

Tristan - Kitesurfing

Avery - Perform because she wants to feel joy and be bold

Tristan’s kitesurfing is absolutely because he wants to feel joy and be bold as well he just doesn’t outright say it like Avery did.

So there’s that on both their bucket lists as well.

And then in the same vein Max - Wants his life to have meaning. I’d say that’s in the same vein because ya know if your life has meaning I assume you’re experiencing joy and being bold. So it’s not as directly compared to Avery and Tristan but still comparable.

All of the things on this bucket list are about their lives and the meaning of them. What they want to do who they want to be how they want to be remembered. But also guess what they are? Fantasies. And they’re faced with the reality of some of these things and they reject them because they don’t fit the fantasies or they don’t reject them but they panic when faced with the reality of them.

Tristan and Max: Are given a chance to fall in love and have a relationship with both Avery and Max like Avery puts it right out there. And they both reject it because it doesn’t look like how they pictured. It’s not their who he picket fence fantasy it’s too different so they push it away.

Max: Faced with the prospect of having a child when Avery says she’s pregnant, panics immediately and starts word vomiting all over Avery cause he doesn’t know what to do this wasn’t his fantasy it doesn’t fit

Now Avery’s isn’t as direct as Max and Tristan’s because she fully supports them becoming a throuple even though it’s different and it’s understandable why she would be trepidatious pregnancy is a lot to put your body through and it’s very unexpected so that’s not strange.

The bucket list item Avery starts to question is being a doctor. She seems to start to wonder if she still wants to be a doctor. And I think that’s because in her head it went “Once I become a doctor I’ll meet a cool guy and then we’ll have kids and it’ll be happy ever after” but if she has a kid now this way. It’s already shattered her white picket fence fantasy cause that’s not the order she planned to do it in. And I think she starts to wonder. “Were there any other reasons I wanted to be a doctor? Or was it just because I thought that would facilitate my white picket fence fantasy somehow”

And I think it’s interesting how this show that makes a big deal about keeping up the fantasy of the ship and ship life has these three main characters with this big lofty fantasies about their lives and what they’ll be like in the hypothetical future where they stop working on the ship and settle down. And what happens when that fantasy is then shattered. And they have to face a reality that isn’t at all what they pictured? How does that change who they are? What they want to become? How they’ll be remembered? Who are they once the fantasy is gone and reality is all that’s left? I think they’re all on the ship cause they’re running from reality. But they can’t run anymore. Reality is sitting right there in Avery’s uterus and they’ve all gotta face it and in order to do that. They’ve gotta face everything else. Their past,their present,what their relationship is,who they are,why they’re here, and most importantly, do they actually all want that white picket fence monogamous one partner heteronormative life? Or could they be happy with their lives looking differently than they did in all their fantasies?

#I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this show yes it is a fun show about a throuple on a boat BUT ITS GOT LAYERS!!!!!!!!!#doctor odyssey #ody3 #avery morgan #tristan silva #max bankman #doctor odyssey analysis #this shows got me writing essays

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lunalikestowriteanddraw · 25 days ago

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Me: I ordered my plushies pretty late, so I imagine i probably won’t get them until late November

Also me, seeing other people get their plushies: where’s mine :(((

#my rational brain and my dragon hoarding heart are fighting rn #legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #ouaw #I am patiently and impatiently waiting for frost and torbek to get here #I wanna just. hug them. and make them kiss. and throw them against the wall. and just #hnnngh #and I can’t even see if they’ve shipped or not #because my phone autocompleted all the information #and for some reason it used my misspelled email address #so I won’t know when they get here until they get here

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dykedvonte · 1 month ago

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I just realized some people are confused about events in the alluded to past in Mouthwashing, particularly about how long the crew has been working together.

The only person who is truly new is Daisuke and it’s why his dynamic with the crew and role in the story is very unique and somewhat distant. Curly didn’t just get Jimmy this job on the Tulpar, he got him the job with the Pony Express. He’s been his copilot for probably a couple of years but still not as long as they’ve been friends. None of them are new with the freight industry, Anya and Swansea especially have been doing this for years, together.

Jimmy is the newest on the regular crew, maybe just a few assignments, but it’s not his first time working with them. I think it’s just something important because this isn’t just one bad mistake that snowballed with giving Jimmy the job. None of them thought Jimmy would do anything, no matter how off-put by him they could’ve been, since he hadn’t done a thing since being there. Generally unpleasantness isn’t a crime and he’d be aware of that.

It was a festering thing and a sort of forced trust they had to give him that he knowingly took advantage of. He was the black sheep and still a wolf under the wool. He expected when he lashed out, that he had been there long enough for it to be looked over completely. Got too comfortable in the space he inserted into and did a lot of damage with his claws when he felt he was going to get shaken out.

#I think acting like if Curly just didn’t give Jim the job this wouldn’t have happened is underplaying that they’ve all been working for PE #for a bit and that Jimmy got comfortable enough to do something horrible like #a lot of factors made the trip being out the worse parts of them but Jimmy was slowly letting his worse parts show and I think people assume #that this was one a few mission he went on with Curly and that he advocated for him completely when it was more likely #he pulled some strings so Jimmy could work right under him and stay out of trouble with a decent job and it back fired cause Jimmy is just #not a good person like I see people acting like his breakdown and choice to crash the ship was because this was probably one of the last #chances to fix his life and he couldn’t admit he fucked up soemthing literally handed to him so badly and cruelly #I think people forget that predators like Jimmy rarely do anything the first day. or week or month or year #they ingrain themselves into the schedule and dynamic and build a sort of stability that make it harder to knock them down or push back #he has Curly’s trust as the co pilot and as a friend #Swansea doesn’t like him but doesn’t trust him and Anya is just wary initially #he doesnt even attack her at the start of the trip it’s implied it happens after the psyche evals and when she confides in Curly how #patronizing he is to her and her position. he’s retaliating against a perceived slight to his stability to him it was pure act of power and #anger because he’s at his core an avoidant bully who can’t take responsibility #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #jimmy mouthwashing #I didn’t want this to be a Jimmy post but it is #more so about how abusers like Jimmy work but I digress cause most of it’s in the comments

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yuripira4e · 7 months ago

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I want to preface this post by saying that I love the cat king as a character, especially one that has such a major impact on Edwin and his relationship with his queerness and learning to be okay with it; HOWEVER, I also believe that everyone that genuinely believes he should be a love interest for Edwin should read this. (Also if you just like the cat king as a character and want to understand his character better and why his and Edwin’s relationship is not something that would be healthy or “real” for either)

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #the cat king #i do not ship them but I don’t want to hate on those who do (mostly) I just want to kind of inform people of the creators meaning for their #Relationship because I keep seeing people saying they hope they get together in s2 and it’s really confusing to me #Their relationship stems from the cat kings own narcissism and predatory behavior and Edwin’s need for someone to push him into under #Standing that his queerness doesn’t have to be torture and can be something giddy #even if he doesn’t return those feelings #The cat king does like Edwin but he doesn’t know anything about him. He likes the game and then he likes the kindness he’s shown despite #Knowing the cruelty he’s presented to Edwin #Queerness and preformance always go hand in hand #He’s a older secretly insecure character #Edwin is the younger #genuinely kind character that shows him that projecting his hurt will never get him what he wants #It’s about the isolation of queerness and the walls put up and the coping mechanism used to protect yourself even at the risk of hurting #Those just like you. That kiss from edwin was to say “I’m sorry your loneliness had caused you to be cruel. It’s the easiest way to feel.#And while I cannot and will not give you what you want or need #you deserve to feel happy and not like you have to gain the attention of uninterested people #I can’t even explain all my thoughts about their dynamic it’s just so much it’s just about the predadation from older queers because of #The trauma they’ve endured and the cycle of hurt and the way we can break the cycle with kindness while also protecting our youths by #Healing those traumas #Something the cat king learns and accepts #Off topic but I don’t like people defending their age gap because #Yes; Edwin is 86 #but he died with a teenage boy brain and then spent 70 of those years in hell where he certainly was not getting his brain developed while #The cat king has possibly hundreds of years of sentience and experience. The power imbalance is not if y’all. And that part of their dynami #Is actually very clear I think but some people didn’t catch it?? Or didn’t care??? Idk man

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ryusei-yellow · 1 month ago

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past valk shnz are not lovers they are worse (but also a qpr)

#my post #I AM BACK ON MY BULLSHIT!!!!!! tell me you see my vision #hhrhgggf. sorry reading a fic and it reminded me i hadn’t thought too hard abt what i see their ship as #and SURPRISE SURPRISE. aroace qpr polyshow guy makes a ship into a qpr. shocker /sar #ougrdhh i love them. they are so ill #i think. current shnz isn’t really a qpr either they’ve got some weird situationship going on in the present i can’t define #even as a qpr #god they make me ill

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wonderjanga · 2 months ago

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Marvel Being a Terrible “Dad”

In the league’s point of view, Billy has to be a terrible dad… and if he’s not their dad… why is a grown ass man hanging around with these kids? So for peace of mind, they assume Jr. and Mary are his kids. I mean, they kinda look like him. Kinda. Like, I can already see a good portion of them not really liking that he’s letting Freddy and Mary fight bloodthirsty monsters and villains. But, even the heroes that don’t mind that have to take a minute to process Marvel congratulating Mary for going off and doing something extremely reckless:

*They all just watched as Mary flew into an alien spaceship to take it down from the inside out. They knew nothing about the ship, just that it was hostile.*

Mary: *Flies back down from the ship, covered in soot. Lands by Marvel.*

Superman: *Flies over to them* “That was extremely reck—”

Billy: *cuts off* “Mary, that was amazing!”

Superman: “Cap, that wasn’t amazing. It was extremely reckless! She could’ve gotten herself killed!” *gestures to Mary wildly.*

Billy: “But she didn’t!” *gives thumbs up* “Come on, let’s get victory ice cream.”

*The two fly off*

*All of them are talking about their kids, eating together at a little lunch table in the Watchtower’s cafeteria like middle schoolers*

Superman: “I wouldn’t let Jon fight any of my villains alone. Most of them, anyways.”

Billy: “Why? Is he not strong enough?”

Superman: “Well, I’m sure he is, but I don’t want him to get hurt, or traumatized. Being a hero can be harsh at times. He’s just a kid.”

Billy: “So? Just cause he’s a kid doesn’t mean that he can’t fight. Just let him.”

Superman: “What? I can’t just let him. How would you feel if Junior or Mary had to fight Black Adam on their own?”

Billy: *shrugs* “Depends. Are they gonna fight him individually or together?”

Batman: *Eating a bat shaped sandwich, made by Alfred* “Individually.”

Billy: “Oh, yeah. Sure. I could trust them to handle Adam alone. I don’t think they could incapacitate him though. A couple times, when I’ve been busy, they’ve held him off for me until I get there.”

Flash: “You just let two little kids (Freddy and Mary look like pre-teens) go out and fight Black Adam? The same Black Adam that destroyed like a quarter of Metropolis in a day?”

Billy: “When you put it like that, it sounds crazy.” *Eats spaghettios*

Green Lantern: “Dude, it is crazy.”

Billy: “Wha? No it’s not. Wondy, when’d you start training for being a whole Amazonian warrior princess?”

Wonder Woman: “When I started adolescence.” *Eats ice cream*

Billy: “Seeeee? It’s fine.”

Martian Manhunter: “How old exactly are Mary and Junior?” *Also eats ice cream*

Billy: “Mary’s eleven and Junior’s twelve, they’re close enough.”

*All except Marvel exchange slightly concerned glances*

*Marvel and Junior are bickering next to one of the windows of the Watchtower.*

Black Canary: *Minding her own business and walks past them.*

Billy: “How about I slam your head through this window so we can really see if you can breathe in space, huh?”

*Canary pauses, and wow. Junior didn’t even flinch. That’s actually crazy. The bickering just got worse. This really doesn’t look good from a licensed therapist’s point of view.*

#billy batson #mary batson #mary bromfield #freddy freeman #black adam #the justice league #superman #batman #dc comics #martian manhunter #wonder woman #black canary #the flash #wally west #green lantern #hal jordan #captain marvel dc #dc captain marvel #shazam

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eightmakesonebraincell · 7 months ago

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ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)

length: 14.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression

a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍

taglist: at the end

san

pov: you run away with san and the cromer

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent

you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave

“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”

your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”

“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”

you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument

only to find that he’s not there

he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot

even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face

approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”

at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours

he looks terrified

san is lost in a distorted warp of visions

he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing

but there is blood

there’s so much blood

it’s everywhere

you’re there

it’s your blood

there’s someone screaming; raw with despair

he’s screaming

the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying

you’re going to die

“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw

and san has to stop you from dying

his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings

he looks around with increasing franticness

he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew

water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell

all his senses scream the same thing to him

it’s just like when you died

his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”

your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him

there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly

you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead

when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours

and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave

the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it

your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch

he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby

your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier

you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew

instead, you give his hand a squeeze

san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt

his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze

he’s mouthing something, you realise

do you trust me?

you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance

with my life

the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”

you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder

the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead

you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening

there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing

the cromer

as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet

quietly, he helps you up to your feet

the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response

you trust san with your life

so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today

and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch

you both make a run for it

when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun

san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”

together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave

few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand

you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight

“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”

he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it

the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery

only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on

you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different

it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you

you turn to look at him

“san, what exactly is going on?”

he’s quiet

he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?

letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”

you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before

“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”

he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”

“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his

you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips

“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”

when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes

“why did you bring the cromer?”

if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you

but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take

taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions

san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”

“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”

he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you

“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”

without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”

“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”

at his words, you soften

because san didn’t just see you die

he lived through seeing you die

you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms

“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”

san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”

you shake your head with your own watery smile

“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”

“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck

you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”

“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”

he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too

except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks

hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest

“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his

he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince

it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm

the glow of the cromer pulses

“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head

he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you

“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips

there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together

your world goes white

the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest

san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt

and your hand…

there’s no cut

your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm

san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him

“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet

“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug

the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer

in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt

you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention

you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon

“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”

you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again

with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass

somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier

when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further

he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”

that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels

neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold

only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies

because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life

at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble

san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own

you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible

lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap

you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut

“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”

san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his

the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin

goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you

“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”

his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in

because if it really is the same cut, then that means-

san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain

your world turns black.

there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness

you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you

you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes

“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”

his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice

“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”

you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”

san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you

you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head

you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter

a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound

that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold

you’re in a cell

the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls

damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know

you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark

they squat in front of your bars

the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two

“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious

at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers

the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”

almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth

“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out

daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”

he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars

“now give it to me,” he demands

san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer

he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand

as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it

except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion

you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement

the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move

but so do you

this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body

the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do

from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest

san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow

but there is so much blood

it’s everywhere

the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying

and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought

did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?

or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?

the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything

“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s

he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”

your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”

“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”

he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

mingi

pov: you're the crew's surgeon

you have all the time in the world to yourself

the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies

hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates

it’ll take about a week to arrive

and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties

which is a good thing, really

but it also means that you have a lot of time

and time is your worst enemy

time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths

you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on

you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood

because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it

step one, rinse the area with clean water

step two, disinfect the wound

step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin

step four, suture as required for nastier injuries

step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten

there’s a procedure and it makes sense

but when it’s invisible, what do you do?

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself

the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin

it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate

you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist

and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice

it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain

that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-

only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you

“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head

you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued

with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you

he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant

“can you carve me another dolphin?”

months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair

most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one

you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable

“i already made you one,” you start

but he protests, “i lost him!”

you blink

nevermind. maybe not so valuable

“...you lost it?”

you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void

“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”

you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes

“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent

he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand

“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”

mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use

“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it

you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away

you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t

he stays and asks you question after question about the carving

which part are you working on now?

how do you shape the tail?

what was the first thing you tried to carve?

if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?

and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening

…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat

it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts

and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock

he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures

he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin

but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden

mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow

he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side

what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side

and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals

but that’s tomorrow

for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore

because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers

you don’t have another bad day that week

technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad

but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor

of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured

you’re not even sad

you’re just…hollow

and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way

being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town

their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you

instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern

you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals

it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either

“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”

you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction

“lookout duties,” you simply say

but mingi calls your bluff

“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”

when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet

“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”

he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason

when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself

he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”

“since when did you like seafood?”

“always?”

mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide

he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side

almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual

you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area

when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster

“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh

you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew

he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself

and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate

…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you

“eat,” he encourages

mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you

but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite

it tastes good

shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning

by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating

mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite

the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you

and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky

because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands

the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked

the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean

you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind

your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side

no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you

you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do

it’s hard for you to talk today

but he already knows that

“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you

without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk

“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”

he has told you this story before

more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised

mingi knows he’s told you this story before

but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind

(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)

you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story

you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds

except you can’t

it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth

and mingi knows

but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen

and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you

some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way

because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay

after all…mingi’s been there before, too

the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume

the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol

someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around

the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs

where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay

and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music

his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful

mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved

he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover

you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment

and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day

because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them

maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you

when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love

not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no

but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

but you have mingi and he is making one for you

it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy

and even if it takes forever?

well

mingi’s got a huge fucking heart

and it’s all yours

wooyoung

pov: you find a stowaway on your ship

“we’re headed off course again”

“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows

yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”

you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point

a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands

so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself

but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it

not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea

“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck

although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously

“you trust that person?”

yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”

well

considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him

yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”

you close your eyes and exhale

admittedly, yunho has a point

and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck

you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck

“stowaway”

yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof

said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness

the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back

but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free

the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps

you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''

despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin

“of course, captain!”

you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him

but he’s not giving it to you

you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder

seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”

you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman

“keep me updated on the ship’s course”

yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway

“and thanks…wooyoung.”

you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you

because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him

except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it

it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass

his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route

honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling

at least that’s what you tell yourself

you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar

wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board

you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients

also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud

and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack

he attacks your heart with his cooking

granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef

he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire

mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight

the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together

you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising

“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”

wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle

realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up

there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”

“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument

but it’s him who comes to your defence

“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists

then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you

you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck

…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything

you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile

you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants

and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation

wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now

when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake

“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”

hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”

you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away

“what about you?” you end up offering

wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”

to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response

the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together

you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen

your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing

the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale

“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow

you note the use of past tense

“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively

he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”

“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out

he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”

in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his

your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”

he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes

“have you also lost somebody?”

you nod at his question

“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”

wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”

there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight

he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief

you smile wistfully and he returns it

“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke

wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too

“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans

“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”

wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”

“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”

he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”

“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands

you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”

“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile

he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together

just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly

your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word

“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”

wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse

as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter

the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods

even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less

there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table

you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know

the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach

you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table

a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them

like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself

you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”

with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off

but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”

unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”

a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on

“true north”

her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time

she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did

wooyoung hurries to catch up to you

as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”

“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”

wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”

he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both

“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”

when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy

it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way

immediately, your hackles are raised

the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”

“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”

hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”

your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”

“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”

sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”

“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”

those two words again

you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…

suddenly, you remember.

legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person

a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters

he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements

the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long

human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing

however, this does not go unpunished

the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-

your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend

wooyoung interrupts

“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”

you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”

at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”

“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”

your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”

“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”

as were your parents by extension of the consequences

“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself

one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”

without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him

“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”

because you see it

the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life

wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else

you step in front of him, knife raised in protection

because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart

“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him

there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”

“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”

you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight

because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you

tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying

the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet

you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both

and indeed they are

they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern

hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough

now.

as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction

your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you

because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you

each other’s true north

jongho

pov: you're a mermaid who saves him

you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters

you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms

there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking

and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects

besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather

you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation

you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale

there’s someone standing there waiting

his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth

the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists

you are at his complete mercy

he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word

“please”

immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net

there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered

“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth

there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger

he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste

but even then, he does not stop or falter

and then you hear it

the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net

you plummet into the ocean

and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall

jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him

he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision

overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further

he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again

he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast

one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes

it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea

he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free

except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips

by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch

he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones

instead, he plummets into the ocean

and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail

your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance

for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon

but then you see it - see him

apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before

and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home

there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting

it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence

you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water

as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean

in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels

and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings

you gingerly swim closer

when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips

you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy

and so you swim.

the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath

he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions

the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears

when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-

and bearings

the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing

there was the storm

the tangled sail

him climbing up the riggings

falling down, down, down

and then…

you

your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him

instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you

but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere

it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again

he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour

but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles

he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove

you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something

he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern

it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters

the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland

you wait, trying to gauge his actions

but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore

you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get

and then you see it

a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells

a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like

you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation

jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove

he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust

but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand

…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen

he tries not to feel disappointed

after all, you have no reason to trust him

so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat

when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state

but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer

gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells

in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle

a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need

jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face

you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning

you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human

how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?

their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control

quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…

and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike

it’s ironic

no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom

side by side

jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs

he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you

so he resorts to using his bare hands

you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something

you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach

for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all

so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him

jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away

he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once

he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness

“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”

your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles

you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops

if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling

you want to hear it again

jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands

he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth

the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it

he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time

he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish

so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”

are mermaids technically fish?

did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?

before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod

jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet

as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him

whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body

but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so

and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display

your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements

he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you

jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you

and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice

“why are you staring?”

your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour

his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind

“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”

for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter

a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you

together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air

his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night

but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…

until it’s too late

you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove

it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side

you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know

you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it

except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock

it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater

so then, why?

you look down and your heart drops

tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus

you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water

your scales have started to lose their shimmer

jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes

(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)

“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in

you uncurl your fingers with a shrug

“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”

you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”

jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down

“you run it through your hair to untangle it”

he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face

“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers

just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once

when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you

you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck

he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair

his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot

his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before

you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body

“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”

he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better

you try to formulate an answer, “i…”

i think i’m in love with you

of course, you would never tell him that

but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist

a scar

“is that- how did you get this?”

you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger

as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly

“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”

your gaze is unfocused as you process the information

the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail

because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time

years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense

you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again

but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to

they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled

and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho

“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic

you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body

yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified

your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving

“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response

you can’t- won’t die in front of him

your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms

jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-

“don’t!” you bark out sharply

he freezes in shock

you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…

you could never yell at jongho

with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”

and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water

except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens

you. cannot. breathe.

you’re drowning.

jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone

his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise

he dives into the water after you

the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense

jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you

your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching

he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest

you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth

jongho will not let you die

lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours

a kiss of life-

he closes his eyes

-and love

but you don’t respond

jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath

instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder

and then he feels it

he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his

with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss

below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again

your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow

you can move again

you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths

he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now

“jongho, you-”

he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter

“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes

“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”

“fuck, you scared me”

jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water

you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”

he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly

“don’t ever do that again”

the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly

it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact

where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love

“i won’t,” you promise

on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man

a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after

but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid

a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months ago

Text

On tour With You ~ MYG

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 2K

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationships, vlogs, supportive fans, cute, fluffy, d-day,

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Yoongo x Fem!Reader

You had been on tour with Yoongi the whole time filming every single thing you could. It was your unofficial job while you were on the tour and it was kind of fun, you were almost sure you were going to miss doing this when the tour was eventually over. As his girlfriend and unofficial videographer, you capture not only his performances but also intimate, heartwarming moments behind the stage and even moments between the two of you that the fans can't help but love whenever they get to watch the moments back.

The crowd’s roar can still be heard faintly from outside the venue as Yoongi collapses on the couch in the green room, his breath uneven but his smile wide. He'd been looking forward to ending the show so he could come back and see you.

“Another one down,” he says, brushing his hand through his damp hair, the sweat making his hair dye run just a little as he sighed in relief. As much as he adored performing he liked this moment a whole lot better. It was when the show was over and he got to relax, laying on the sofa and reliving every single moment that had happened on the stage.

“You killed it tonight.” You give him a soft nudge, holding up the camera, smirking behind the camera as you giggle a little.

“Care to say something to your fans?” You arched a brow as the tired Yoongi was completely replaced and the energetic one you knew came back. Yoongi grinned, giving the camera a playful wink as he sat up straight.

“What should I say? Thank you for coming to my show… and for putting up with this one,” he teases, nodding toward you which you scoffed about. You roll your eyes and laugh at him, pulling a face behind the camera.

“They love me, what can I say?” you say sarcastically. The fans really did love you—ever since you started showing up in his tour vlogs, they’ve been shipping you two hard. What started as a simple behind-the-scenes role had blossomed into a full-on fan-favorite love story. It was the final show though which meant this was going to be the last vlog you had to do together but you just remembered all of the old ones.

]

Cafe Vlog

It was early in the morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon as the camera clicked on. You and Yoongi were sitting in a café in some city, the name long forgotten after so many stops that the two of you had over this whole trip. You'd tried to keep up, even picking up magnets from every stop that the two of you had. Yoongi’s wearing a mask and a bucket hat, but his eyes are smiling over at you. He loved that you'd taken so well to the camera and were enjoying the job he'd given to you.

“Coffee time,” you say, the camera panning to Yoongi as you giggle behind it, the camera shaking ever-so-slightly but he smirked under his mask.

“This one can’t function without it.�� You finished earning a scoff from Yoongi. It wasn't like he was the only one who couldn't survive without coffee in the mornings, he knew that for a fact you were the same way since he'd spent the last four years in a relationship with you,

“Don’t lie, you’re the same,” he retorts, nudging your arm with a small smile as you giggle at him.

"Shh, no one needs to know about me. It's all about youuuu," You giggled zooming the camera in and out on his face before moving it to begin zooming in on the barista making your drinks. In the background, you hear Yoongi humming softly to himself, completely forgetting about the recording.

When he finally notices the camera pointing at him, he gives it an exaggerated, tired look and blushes a little when he realises you'd been recording his humming habit.

“Can’t a guy have some peace?” He teases, holding his hands up and covering the lens while smirking at you.

“Not when he’s this cute,” you say, flipping the camera back to yourself for a moment before turning it off. But even as the camera powers down, Yoongi leans in to kiss your cheek, an act so casual, yet it never fails to send butterflies through your chest.

Concert Vlog

It’s late after another concert. Yoongi’s in his sweats, lying on the hotel room bed, half-asleep but still glued to his phone, responding to fans on Weverse. You’re sitting cross-legged beside him, editing the vlog footage from the day, clicking through it all to figure out what to edit. The camera was currently sitting across from you both on the mantle recording without either of you knowing it was on.

“You gonna keep ignoring me?” you tease, smirking at Yoongi who looked two minutes away from sleeping. Yoongi glances up, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but filled with warmth, he smiles tiredly at you. He wasn't ignoring you per se but he was shattered after the concert and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep.

“I’m not ignoring you. Just…multitasking,” He yawns, stretching out on the sofa and letting out a small whimper when his back cracked a little.

You laugh softly, slowly getting up from your place on the floor but the camera stays on him a bit longer than intended, capturing the moment when he finally tosses his phone aside and pulls you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

The two of you forget the camera’s still on the bed, capturing the way he murmurs into your hair and snuggles into you closely, relaxing completely with you right by his side,

“I’m really glad you’re here.” He whispers, slowly linking your hands together and squeezing softly,

“Always,” you reply softly, cuddling into him shutting your eyes and humming softly.

"I'd never be able to go without you this long." He admits, running his fingers up and down your arm softly lulling you into a complete state of relaxation.

"Luckily you never will," You giggle, leaning up and kissing him softly on the lips.

Concert Prep

Backstage before the next concert, Yoongi was stretching, loosening up for the performance, doing all of his vocal warm-ups while someone attached his microphone to his chest. You were behind him, camera in hand, capturing every detail of his pre-show ritual, smiling to yourself at him. When he first started he was too nervous to do all of this alone but as the concerts went by you saw his confidence growing more and more.

“Do I look okay?” he asks, turning around suddenly, giving you a mock-serious look. You zoom in on his face with the camera, teasing him and giggling wildly.

“You look like you’re about to destroy this stage, so yeah, I think you’re good.” You giggle keeping your real compliments for when he was off the stage and off camera later. He laughs softly, tugging at his jacket. The camera wobbles as you go to fix the collar for him, your touch lingering on his shoulders, your eyes staring into his as you smile brightly at him. For a moment, the two of you share a quiet glance, your eyes dancing between each other with unspoken words. You don’t notice the camera still recording as you step closer, brushing a stray hair away from his eyes.

“Thanks,” he says, voice lower, more intimate. The sound of the crew bustling around you fades as your fingers linger on his cheek for just a second too long.

“You’ve got this, baby. I promise,” you whisper, giving him a reassuring smile before stepping back to capture the rest of the backstage prep.

When you eventually checked the footage back later that night, you realize the camera had caught the entire exchange—every touch, every glance, and the love that’s evident between the two of you. Fans are going to go crazy for this.

The final concert of the D-Day tour felt completely different to every single other moment on the tour. The energy in the air is electric, yet there's a bittersweetness in knowing that this incredible journey is coming to an end. Yoongi stands on stage, drenched in sweat, his eyes scanning the thousands of cheering fans. He smiles that small, quiet smile you know so well—the one that says everything without words.

Backstage, you were already there capturing his final moments before he disappeared behind the curtain. You couldn't have been prouder of him for all of this and you'd felt incredible to be bought on along the way.

When Yoongi finally walks off the stage, his gaze immediately finds yours. He strides toward you with a giant smile on his face, his usual calm exterior cracking just a little as the enormity of the night hits him.

“It’s over,” he murmurs, pulling you into a tight embrace. You wrap your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It felt bittersweet to him. Part of him was glad all of this was over but he was going to miss being able to perform on stage.

“You did it,” you whisper into his ear, kissing his temple softly and giggling at him as he blushed a little. You didn't care that he was covered in sweat, you were too happy to care.

“I’m so proud of you.” Yoongi pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours as he smiles brightly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you." Your heart stutters at his words. He'd said stuff like this before but you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered each and every single time. Before you can respond, Yoongi glances down at the camera in your hands, his mind ticking as he smirks to himself. He chuckles softly, taking it from you and flipping it on. The red recording light flickers to life as he points it at you.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, trying to hide behind your hands, but he doesn’t let you, he shakes his head and keeps the view on you.

“Finishing the vlog,” he says simply, his voice gentle.

“The fans need to see the most important part of the tour.” He smirks at you and you lower your hands, feeling your face flush as he keeps the camera trained on you.

“Yoongi…” you start, but he interrupts,

“You.” His voice is so full of love, that it’s almost overwhelming. To him, you were the most important part of all of this. There was no way he would have been able to do all of this without you cheering him on from the sidelines.

“They need to see you. You’ve been here for every show, every moment. You’ve kept me going.” He lowers the camera and pulls you back into his arms. This time, neither of you cared that the camera was still rolling, capturing the moment as you stood there, wrapped in each other. It’s real, unfiltered, and the perfect way to close out this chapter of your lives together. The camera continues to record, Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world fades away. It’s just the two of you, in your own little bubble, as it’s always been.

Later, when you sit down to edit the final vlog, you leave that moment in, knowing it’s exactly what the fans will love: a raw, unguarded glimpse into your relationship. You upload it with a simple title: Thank you.

Within minutes, the comments flood in, filled with love, support, and admiration for both of you, something that made your heart flutter. Fans from all around the world thank Yoongi for the tour, for his music—and for sharing a piece of his heart through the vlogs. But what touches you most are the comments directed at your relationship:

Suga96: "They’re perfect together."

JinsLeftiris: "This is the kind of love we all dream about."

Jiminismywrecker "You can see how much they love each other. It’s beautiful." Yoongi leans over your shoulder, reading the comments with a smile, kissing your shoulder softly and chuckling as he looks at them.

“They’re right, you know.” He tells you with a knowing smirk.

“About what?” you ask, turning to look at him, your lips catching his quickly as he chuckled.

“We’re perfect together.” He said before kissing you softly, making you giggle against him.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #suga #suga x reader #suga imagine #suga imagines

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emchant3d · 7 months ago

Text

They say Captain Munson has a gift. That he’s blessed by a god’s touch.

His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.

They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.

But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.

Captain Munson fell in love.

He didn’t mean to. When the fishing nets are reeled in that fateful day he expects nothing more than a few meals, a couple pounds to send to the kitchens for Benny to work his magic with. He isn’t even on deck when the catch is brought in.

It’s Gareth’s frantic voice that draws him upwards, his shouting and knocking on his cabin door that has him strapping a sword to his hip before taking the stairs two at a time to see the threat.

He’s expecting a King’s ship. Maybe another pirate.

He isn’t expecting a mer.

Pale, unconscious, bleeding, sprawled on the deck, plush and soft and gorgeous, tan torso tapering down into a huge, shimmering tail. He’s breathing but it’s shallow, weak, a shell on a necklace moving faintly with each hitch of his chest.

And the crown. A simple circlet, golden and shining, tangled in his chestnut hair, gems glinting from the locks.

Mers are mythical, believed to be stories by some and history by others, but Eddie grew up hearing the tales of them every night from his mother, and the evidence is right in front of them - how can they do anything but believe?

It takes three of them to move him below deck. Eddie grips him under his arms, Gareth supports his hips, and Jeff wrangles his tail. They take him to Eddie’s quarters, the only bed big enough to fit him.

He wakes in stages, delirious from pain, snapping teeth and swinging claws when he has the strength for it and slurring rambling words when he doesn’t, head lolling on the pillow, eyes rolling back.

His injuries are strange - a band of dark bruising around his pretty throat, his back shredded, bites taken out of the dips of his sides and the meat of his tail. There’s sickness in him, but Joyce is patient. She patches him up, soothes the mer’s fever and stitches the wounds she can, bandages what she can’t, keeps it all clean, keeps it wet because apparently that’s what he needs - salt water, which makes Eddie cringe in sympathy, but only seems to ease the mer’s pain, not make it worse.

It’s a week before those pretty eyes blink open with genuine awareness in them, sharp and wary. Eddie’s taken to sitting at the mer’s side, feels a strange responsibility to him that he doesn’t want to look too closely at, and he glances up from his journal to find the other’s gaze locked on him.

“Where am I?” he croaks out, and Eddie smiles, snapping the journal shut.

“You’re aboard the Hellfire, sweetheart. Captain Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows in his seat, and it goes over about as well as he thought it would.

There’s a lot of threats and snarling and cursing, but Eddie simply leans back, out of the mer’s reach as he crowds himself into the corner of the mattress, back pressed to the wall and sheets tangled around his tail.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries to soothe, and the mer scoffs. Eddie can’t blame him for his caution, but he tells him the honest truth - where he was found, the state of him, how they’ve nursed him back to health.

The mer’s hand hovers over one of the nastier wounds at his side, covered in gauze, dampened with saltwater. When he cuts his eyes back to Eddie there’s a little less animosity in his gaze, and Eddie will take what he can get.

Eventually he pulls a name from that snarling mouth. Stephan. “Prince Stephan,” he begrudgingly admits once Eddie points out the crown that he’d gently worked free of his hair.

And he’s a mer, but different.

“Siren, is what I believe your kind calls mine,” Stephan says, “half and half. Mer and human.”

“Human,” Eddie muses, and Stephan confesses, warily, haltingly - he’s the King’s bastard son. Born to King Richard of the land and the Mer Queen of the sea.

“And how did the Prince of the Mer find his way into my net, hm?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Stephan rolls his eyes at him.

He’s a runaway. King Richard had come looking for his son and with his mother’s blessing Stephan abandoned his title, his home, because the King would find him eventually if he stayed, and whatever dangers he might face in the open sea would be nothing compared to what the King might use his gifts for.

“Gifts?” Eddie asks, and Stephan smiles, his pointed teeth glinting.

It’s a clear day, not a cloud to be seen, no sign of rain or bad weather. And yet as Steve begins to hum softly, a shadow crosses overhead.

It happens slowly. Stephan’s voice builds, a wordless little melody, something melancholy and soft, and the sky beyond the windows of the cabin darkens. Thunder rolls and in the distance, Eddie can see a crack of lightning.

The ship rocks as waves begin to form, the once-smooth water taking a turn. Eddie can hear the crew above deck begin to shout to one another, confusion building, growing more insistent as Stephan’s song grows, and Eddie’s stomach drops.

The siren’s voice is haunting, terrifying. Eddie’s frozen in place, meeting his eyes even as tears well in his own. He’s transfixed, can’t move, can’t speak, paralyzed with some ancient, instinctual knowing of danger, of death.

Eddie does not scare easy. But this is terror personified. This is the true threat that lives in the sea. Not the waves, not man, this. This creature who smiles at him with sharp teeth and a haunting voice, reaching towards Eddie with a clawed hand, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear in a touch that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and his heart skip and dread sink into his very bones.

He’s staring death in the face, and death is smiling.

Then Stephan quiets, and it’s over as quickly as it had begun. The sky clears in moments. The waters calm. The vessel’s heaving calms, and Eddie’s spine unlocks.

He stares at the being before him, amazed, before a slow, brilliant smile breaks over his face.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Prince Stephan?” he asks, and gets a smile in return.

“Call me Steve,” he tells him, and fondness begins to worm its way into Eddie’s chest.

“Then call me Eddie.” He sees Steve’s eyes flutter, and he tilts his head. “You’re tired,” he tells him, and gets a huff in response. “You’re safe here, Steve,” he tells him, and he knows he doesn’t trust him, not fully, not yet, but that’s okay. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Steve watches him warily, but clearly the little display has worn him out. His hand finds that same wound on his side, cradling it carefully, back shifting like it hurts to sit up straight and stretch all that marred skin.

“Lay a hand on me, and I’ll eat you,” Steve warns, and Eddie snorts a laugh.

“Whatever you say, highness,” and he tugs the sheets back into place over that large tail, and lets the mer get the rest he still clearly needs.

part 2 💕

#steddie #mermay #merman steve harrington #siren steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #stevexeddie #steve/eddie #mine

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biancadoes1 · 4 hours ago

Note

First of all: happy birthday! Wishing you lots of happiness and many more years of life! 🥳

So I have a group of friends that I care about a lot. We met because of our love for Bridgerton. Like many of us, they ended up boarding the "Lukola" ship. I’ve grown closer to them over the past few months, but I feel like they’re starting to act strangely regarding Nicola, especially after the addition of A and JD to the story.

They’ve been judging Nic and Luke’s posts as if they know details no one else does. They’re judging Nic as if she were Judas and had done terrible things. They accuse her of only caring about self-promotion, sidelining Luke, and being the one to blame for the nasty comments people direct at Luke. They’re saying Nic does everything deliberately and knows she’s harming Luke on purpose. They even claim Netflix and Shonda only care about Nic and forget that Luke exists.

I’ve tried to bring some sense to the conversation by saying that social media represents only 10% or less of a celebrity’s life and that we can’t judge things as if we actually know them or live with them. But I feel like they withdraw when I make comments like that. I believe they just want an echo chamber for their thoughts.

I’ve been thinking about distancing myself, but these girls were a great support for me when I lost a close relative. I feel ungrateful for even considering stepping away. At the same time, I’m bothered by the way they talk about Nicola. We’re all women and we know the pressure of being a woman, especially in the world of fame.

No offense, anon, but your friends sound like they need help. Do they all know how to tie their own shoes? It sounds like they haven’t learned a lot in life.

Anyone attempting to claim that Nicola or Luke are attempting to hurt each other over social media with their behaviors is a tried and true idiot.

Get new a new group. If you’re bothered by this and have a hard time seeing past it, it’s definitely time to find different people to talk with.

I understand feeling some obligation to stay for fear of seeming ungrateful but you also have to take care of yourself and in a situation involving a group chat with people with the same interest, you should always come first.

Protect your own peace. There’s nothing selfish about doing that. There are plenty of other people in the fandom who think like you do and are willing to have discussions. You just have to find them.

#lukola #my opinions #my thoughts

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automaticheartcrusade · 3 months ago

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Ngl ever since the GF fandom came back, it is severely annoying seeing Stanford Pines’s character being reduced down to wanting to fuck a triangle instead of the complex character he is and why he was drawn to Bill in the first place. I also don’t like how people are starting to woobify Bill due to his backstory and paint him out to be this silly goose ex of Ford’s when in reality he’s still a demonic monster who never cared about him and wanted nothing but to control him.

Like y’all DO realize that just because Alex Hirsch likes making silly undertone jokes about Ford and Bill having a “breakup”, doesn’t erase all the horrible stuff Bill put Ford and the Pines family through…..right??? Cause good fucking GOD the fighting and discourse that’s happening on twitter rn regarding this. You can’t even call Bill and Ford’s dynamic toxic without getting attacked or made fun of, it’s ridiculous. And this ALWAYS happens with mlm pairings in media, or characters fandoms deem as gay. Because fans start to see the fanon version of the characters they’ve made up in their heads as canon, and then proceed to woobify said male characters.

And let me be clear, if you ship BillFord…that’s okay with me, I don’t care. But if you paint their relationship out to be lighthearted and silly, to the point where you’re attacking others for calling it toxic….you’re delusional because did we watch the same show, read the same books, and look at the same website?

#BillFord #Stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls analysis #bill cipher #the book of bill #alex hirsch #gravity falls fandom

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sanjisprincesss · 6 months ago

Text

I could fall in love with you

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Synopsis: How I think the one piece men would realize they’ve got it bad for you!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Characters: Monsters trio x fem! Reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: fluff fluff and more fluff! Sort of proofread

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ song credit: I could fall in love by Selena

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LUFFY

Realized when he started to feel even more clingy towards you.

With Luffy it’s a matter of whether or not he realizes or someone around him realizes. The minute he realizes he doesn’t hold back on his feelings and tells you immediately.

He realizes when he starts to feel a s way when Sanji or anyone grazes at you in any other way then friendly. Which is a feeling he never really felt since in any other situation he wouldn’t care about if someone flirts or flaunts over you.

He starts to crave your attention and presence more and everyone around him will most likely notice.

You and Luffy sit on top of the head of the thousand sunny pointing out clouds shapes making stories and backgrounds to them. Watching the sunset a beautiful ray of colors and scenery cover the sky.

“Shishi that one looks like a sea cow doesn’t Y/N!” Your captain said pointing and laughing at a cloud that strangely resembled a giant sea creature. You look to where he’s pointing to see the cloud he’s mentioning. You can’t help but smile and laugh at the remembrance. “ yeah it does look like a sea cow Luffy!”

As the laughter begins to die down, Luffy with an unreadable expression turns to face you without saying a word. As you turn to face him his famous smile returns to his face “Y/N i love you so much! You know that right!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ZORO

Realized when he got a little too overprotective of you even more than he’s willing to admit.

First of all, as soon as he gets the slightest hint that he’s head over heels in love with you he’s denying it and will try to deny it as much as he is possibly able to. DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT.

Which is also why he wouldn’t confess first.

Zoro is known for being the protector of the strawhat pirates, by nature he has his hand on his swords the minute the crew is In danger. It's not that he is more protective towards you than the crew, it's more like he’s more protective of you towards others that have pertenal feelings towards you. Which once again is not really his main train of thought yk.

Of course he would never admit, but he likes to have your company near him. May it be you reading a book in the crows nest while he trains or just being near him while he’s napping.

As the sun shines on the sea and everything in its path. You Nami and Robin were sunbathing on the deck as Sanji came by with fresh drinks for the three of us. Luffy Chopper and Usopp playing around the ship while laughing with zoro training in the crows nest.

“NAMI SWANN~ Y/N CHANN~ ROBIN DEARR~ I'VE MADE YOU LOVELY LADIES SOME REFRESHING BEVERAGES! SO BEAUTIFUL I COULD JUST MELT!”

He says with hearts in his eyes placing the drinks down on a table and hanging them out one by one.

“Aye, curly brows give em a break will ya!”

And that Is all you hear form the green haired swordsman before you and your friends share a knowing glare before smiling towards which other.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ SANJI

Realized he loves you differently than he would other women…

Let’s state the obvious: Sanji loves women. It’s a known fact about him. He has felt infatuation before to the point where he thought he was in love. That infatuation died down when he found another woman who crossed his path.

But with you it’s different. His infatuation turns into something that lasts. It doesn’t fade away when someone else is around him. He lowkey turns into Mr prince.

He goes that extra mile. He’s a gentleman all around and it’s really hot. He can have a conversation with you without any kind of questionable behavior or nosebleeds. No lustful stares of any sort, no signs of dirty thoughts, just quality time with his lover.

The crew had all departed ways to follow their regular duties and routines after dinner. However you stayed after dinner to help Sanji with the kitchen while of course he always insisted that there was no need for you to worry your pretty little head.

You always insisted on helping and how could he ever say no to you. So there you two are, wasting and drying dishes. One by one.

“ I wonder what different types of fish and seasonings are in the all blue?” “What color do you think the water is there?” You ask him while drying a plate. As he passes the next dish that needs to be dried.

“The all blue hm…you know just what to ask me, don’t you? A beautiful girl like you deserves a gorgeous answer.. don’t you think?” You nod while putting the last dish away.

“Let’s see..if I had to think of a color, one that matched the idea of all the world's fish swimming together.. I’d say sky blue. A brilliant sky blue it has to be!”

#STARS WORK ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩#one piece x reader #op x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #luffy x black reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x black reader #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #black reader #opla x reader #op x you #one piece

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luffysscraps · 1 year ago

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Please I have baby fever! I NEED monster trio as dads headcanons. I blame Bluey for this. Thanks in advance 💕🤞🏾

Monster trio as fathers

Ft; Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Cw; Fem reader. Nothing else just fluff.

•Luffy

Luffy gets you pregnant by accident. But he’s not worried about it at all, he’s really happy. “We’re having a baby?! That’s so cool!” He’s very excited to be a father but knows little to nothing about it.

You two have a baby girl. And he’s so happy! He doesn’t care much about the gender of the baby. He’ll love his child no matter what. The second she’s out of you and into his hands he holds her up for everyone to see. “Look! Look she’s here!” He shouts while joyful tears fall from his cheeks.

His little girl gets only the best from Luffy. He bathes her, feeds her and changes her all the time. He feeds her a little bit too much, and she has a never ending stomach like her father. She’s almost always hungry resulting in baby chub.

A giggly baby! This girl loves to laugh! She laughs more then anything else and with her jokester of a father she gets more then enough daily giggles. His stretchy skin makes for a great toy! He can pull on his face and make funny faces. Give her a finger to tug and listen to her laugh as it stretches. And even great to chew on. She kinda ends up thinking every human is like that though and tugs on people randomly. And she’s got a lot of strength for a baby (I mean look at who her dad is.) The force of her tug was enough to trip Zoro.

But once she’s old enough to start crawling and waddling, Luffy’s always active with her, chasing her, playing tag with her and playing with her. Her baby chub quickly melts away with him around. She’s so playful, always babbling and tugging on his leg to chase her and Luffy’s always up for the challenge. She has Luffy’s big wide eyes and looks like a carbon copy of her father.

These two are always talking, like always. Even when she literally can’t communicate beyond a few words and the rest is babbles. He will sit there and listen to her for hours on end and respond to everything she’s saying as if she’s actually speaking. He loves hearing her voice, whether it’s her managing to say ‘papa’ or her spitting her tongue out at him.

He takes her everywhere with him. He’s always holding her close to his chest while exploring new towns and villages. Everyone tells him not to bring her into dangerous places but he doesn’t listen. So to calm everyone’s nerves a little bit, Franky makes him a chest baby carrier that’s reinforced with armor. That only ends up making it worse though because now he thinks he can take her exploring with him. Like this man sees no problem in adventuring in a scary, dark forest where man eating predators are everywhere with a baby. He slingshots back to the ship with her in her carrier giggling against his chest and he feels proud of himself. Only for Nami to hit him and tell him how dangerous that was. The only situation he hands her off to you or someone else is when he’s about to engage in a tough battle. He’s confident in his skills and knows he can win but he’s not taking any chances of his sunshine getting hurt.

Given she looks just like her father, (and the fact he practically shoved her in Koby’s and Helmeppo’s faces when their fleet showed up to apprehend them) the navy knows the king of the pirates has a child. They’ve been trying to wipe you off the map for some time now and the same goes for your daughter despite her only being months old. No matter they’re not getting their hands on her. Luffy is serious when anything has to do with his daughter and if the marines think they can pull a fast one on him and kidnap his daughter, He sends their whole fleet to a watery grave. Even taking out every nearby marine base in the area to send a loud and clear message to the marines. ‘Don’t fuck with his daughter.’

When she’s around 5 the two somehow manage to get even closer then before. With her newfound ability to talk and make sense while doing it. They talk for HOURS. About food, games, books, the sky, fishing, everything. He tells her tales of his adventures and how her papa became pirate king. The two are best friends.

In all honesty he wants another one, maybe two, or three if you let him. She brings him back to when he was a kid and he wants her to have siblings like he did. But then he remembers an important lesson that he passes down to his daughter.

Luffy sits on the thousand Sunny’s figurehead. His daughter sitting besides him and wearing her straw hat that he had passed down to her. The little girl carrying the legacy of the king of the pirates without knowing it. They’re both silent but it’s a comfortable silence. He then looks over to her with a soft smile on his lips, bringing a finger up to her cheek and poking her. He laughs and brings her closer to him sitting her down on his lap. Some wisdom from the past remerges while he watches the sunset with his daughter. And suddenly he begins to speak. “Here’s a little secret sunshine, once you share a bottle of sake, you can become siblings with anyone.”

“Really? That’s all it takes?”

“Of course it does! Your papa would never lie to you! So when you find your long lost sibling. Rejoice with them over sake. Alright?”

“Alright papa!” Luffy smiles and looks at the setting sun wondering what the future held for the little girl who had the world in her palms.

•Zoro

“Run that by me again…?” Just like Luffy, Zoro gets you pregnant by accident. It’s not that he’s scared or anything, you’re the only woman he’d want to have a child with. But it’s just that he’s not prepared. It was something he wasn’t expecting.

The two of you have a baby boy. In all honesty that’s what he was hoping for. You swear while you’re recovering from giving birth you heard him give out a small cheer in triumph when Chopper announced the gender. ‘Did he think this was a challenge?!’ He’s attached the second he holds him. His son melts his heart when he grasps his giant finger with his tiny one.

Although he wasn’t prepared he’s surprisingly good with a child. He changes him, feeds him and bathes him. Bonding over the little moments like washing out his hair for the first time. You swear you saw tears but this man literally forced the tear back into his eye when you pointed it out.

His son is silent baby. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t whine. He only lets out small babbles every now and again when he’s trying to get your attention. You ask Chopper if he’s okay and he’s perfectly healthy. He just doesn’t show a lot of emotion. You can get him to laugh, giggle and smile if you try but on the day to day he is totally silent.

When Zoro has to watch him, he trains with him on top of him. Using his son as a little extra weight. It’s kinda adorable actually. He’s lifting up tons of weight above his head while the baby boy is sucking his thumb in the sling around his chest. He’s acting so tough while doing dead lifts. And every time he comes back down he gives his son a little forehead kiss.

When he begins crawling and waddling Zoro is determined to get him walking. He’s literally the best baby coach, always hyping his son up for the littlest things. “ ‘Atta boy!” “That’s my son!” “Did anyone else see that?! That’s my kid! He came from me!” Like- calm down he just clapped his hands. He supports his son in every little thing and helps him walk for the first time. Again he sucks up his tears and pretends he’s not crying. He’s so proud of the little guy.

He mostly hands him off to you when you guys are on a new island. He knows his son is safe with you, and with you carrying the baby he can protect both of you at the same time. Plus he’s known to get lost and one of his worse fears is getting lost with his child. If he’s lost by himself as least he knows you two are both safe. If he got lost with his child he’d be paranoid for his child’s safety. He knows he can protect him from any physical harm but he can’t use three sword style with him near. Plus he’d have to make sure he’s hydrated, and well fed, and it’s just a lot of stress on him. It’s better if you have him and stick in groups when exploring.

When he’s finally starting to walk on his own Zoro buys him a small wooden toy sword. And just like his father he’s skilled with a sword. He loves it a lot, he likes to swing it on anything and everything. He often knocks anyone who walks past him on their legs and his favorite victim is Sanji. And Zoro’s just like “Yes, Yes hit him!” You apologize daily to Sanji when you find your son has been beating him up all day. Your son is confused, Papa says yes and mama says no. So to please you both he hits Sanji when his father’s near and doesn’t when you’re nearby.

Once he’s 5 Zoro starts training his little boy. He’s not soft on him at all and respects him as a swordsmen. Although Zoro loved his teacher when he was younger he just had wished he had treated him like he was an equal instead of a child. So he instructs his son as if they are equal. Most think this would cause him to relent his father but your son has Roronoa genes and it just bonds him closer with his father.

Zoro’s sword clashes against the smaller sword as his son’s stance was getting tougher and harder to block. Nonetheless Zoro doesn’t let him win. He smacks the sword out of his hand and makes him yield. “That’s another win-“ Zoro goes to speak but he sees the slight tension in his son’s eyes and immediately bends down to the boy’s height. “What’s troubling ya kid?”

“I just don’t get it. I can defeat pirates twice my size, Marines, almost anyone, but I can’t beat you.” Zoro hears his son’s lament and it reminds him of a familiar feeling he had when he was younger. And before he can speak another word Zoro leans in and hugs him. “So? What does it matter. Maybe one day you’ll beat me, maybe one day you won’t. Maybe one day you’ll beat someone stronger than me… maybe you won’t. And that’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and if you want to defeat me well it’ll take a lot longer and more practice.” Zoro picks up the green haired boy and holds him in his hands running a hand through his shaggy locks.

“Don’t pressure yourself. Just worry about what you can do today. Tomorrow will always exist.” Zoro says simply and that calms the five year old’s nerves. The male gives him a smile and ruffles his locks before going to leave the crow’s nest. “Alright now let’s find mama.”

•Sanji

Unlike everyone else, Sanji gets you pregnant because you two think you’re ready for a child. Keyword Is think. “Oh my love~ I’ve prepared the strawberries cream cheese and jalapeños you’ve request~!“ You don’t lift a finger during your pregnancy. Sanji does everything for you and forbids you to go exploring or fight during this time. For better or for worse you stay with the Sunny every time it docks. And Sanji prefers to stay with you every time but if he genuinely can’t and needs to help protect the crew he kisses you like it’s his last every single time.

You two have a baby girl and Sanji is ecstatic. He’s going overboard already, buying hundreds of outfits, toys and baby equipment. He bathes her, cleans her, feeds her and if he knew how Sanji would breath for her. You rarely get to see her and she’s YOUR baby. Like Sanji’s practically raising her all by himself. He does her hair, combing her long blonde locks back into two big pigtails. She looks just like her father, even having his ‘curly brows’.

She’s a shy baby. She’s a scaredy cat, and she cries easily. Sanji’s always there to help her feel better. He’s always there to rock her to sleep, and to play with her to stop her from crying. It takes a while for her to get settled with the crew as they all sorta scared her and made her tear up. But Zoro scared her the most for some odd reason. She starts screaming and crying whenever he enters the room and Sanji immediately gets pissed at him. “GET OUT OF HERE MOSS HEAD!” And your daughter is grateful her father’s there to protect her from that scary man.

He sits her down in a high chair nearby while he’s cooking. Making sure to keep her far away from any harm but close enough encase she falls out of the chair. She loves to sing and babble Melodies. She makes the perfect cooking partner. He listens to her sing while he works and hands off little cuts of food to her to taste. “Hmm this taste good?” He’d ask when he hands her a slice carrot. She babbles happily nodding her head while chewing on the carrot slice.

He’s a helicopter parent. He’s always making sure his baby girl is safe. He’s always checking that knifes are put away, and that she can’t play with anything dangerous. Hell he even bubble wraps some baby toys that are too sharp for his likings (calm down babe it’s a plastic fishing rod). He keeps her away from the railings, standing far back and holding her tightly so there’s no chance of her falling in. The worse thing that could possibly happen to him is if she ever gets hurt. Even small bumps or her falling down breaks his self esteem. “I’m a terrible father, how could I have let this happen.” He soothes her pain to the best of his ability but feels so, so terrible he let it happen.

He’s a picture dad. Whoever let this man get his hands on a camera made the biggest mistake of their lives because now they have to deal with him showing them baby pictures of her. Every single second of the day. “Oh! Oh here’s where she spit out her tongue at her food! And here’s her sleepy face! Isn’t she so adorable!” He gushes over her showing them pictures and taking up their life while his daughter is right there staring at them both. He takes pictures of every little moment and makes not just one scrap book, but multiple. On every island he makes sure to stock up on camera film because it’s most likely going to be gone by tomorrow.

Speaking of which when the Sunny is docked on a new island your daughter is with you at all times. Knowing Luffy’s attraction to danger and how he’s one of the strongest he often has to fight. He instructs you to run and hide in the safest place possible with your daughter if danger arises. He trusts you to protect her but when push comes to shove but he rather you both are safe while there’s danger around. And if you’re threatened, or worse. Your daughter is. Sanji will rip anyone who threatens his family apart and with no remorse. Even women. That’s how you know he’s serious.

When she’s 5 Sanji’s even closer with his little one. He buys her anything she asks for! It’s all worth it just to see her smile. (Nami never gives him allowance anymore since he spent millions of berry on a purebred horse rental for her). She’s the sweetest little girl around, and has a soft spot for animals. She wants to become a veterinarian even. And while Sanji knows little to nothing about animal care, he’s still his daughter’s biggest fan and supporter. But his world opened when he found his daughter we crying, he wondered why but then saw the dead squirrel in her palms. She must have snuck it back on the ship and kept it as a pet, but due to Sanji’s sheltering she didn’t know what was going on. He neglected to teach her about death, he thought such scary things and concepts could wait until she was older but it was clear he made a mistake.

“P-papa….” “Oh come here sweetheart…” Sanji engulfs her in a hug and pulls her into his lap while she cries into his chest. “I don’t know why he won’t wake up! I brought him food and water! B-but he hasn’t woken up in two days! I-I don’t know why but I feel sad! W-what’s wrong with Mr. Squirrel?” As his daughter cries and sniffles against him he doesn’t know where to start really. He stammers over his words before he starts. “Honey…Mr. Squirrel is dead…” “He stopped breathing and now he’s not here anymore. No one knows where you go when you die but he’s not with us anymore.”

“O-oh… well can he come back and say goodbye first?”

“I’m sorry sweetie but that’s not possible.”

“Oh well…. Can… can we die too? Is that gonna happen to you one day? And… mama? And me?”

“Yes sweetheart. Everyone dies. But it’s always at the right time, you’ll make memories you’ll never forget and when it’s time for your journey to end. It must meet its end.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“No one does. And if you could live forever I’d find a way for you too. But for now it’s something that happens to everyone and everything. There’s no need to be scared of it. It’s just apart of life. Don’t worry about it now my love, for now we can burry Mr. Squirrel and have a funeral at the next island. Would you like that my dear?”

The air is quite somber as the little girl processes what death is and that she can’t run away from it. Her tears come to a stop and suddenly she doesn’t feel that sad anymore now that she realizes it’s a part of life. “Mmhmm… I’d like that.” She whispers and Sanji smiles at her picking her up and exiting her bedroom. “Now let’s go find a shoebox to put him in until the next island.”

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