#armed robbery sea

[rcksmith]

Sun and Water - Kaz Brekker

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGUISH. Lots of mention of post-traumatic disorder. Curse words. Mention of death. Blood. Slave market. Mention of murder. VERY EMOTIONAL. VERY SWEET.

Word count: 4k

A/N: This one was very emotional for me. I cried writing with my playlist on full blast. I hope you love it as much as I do.

💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

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Ketterdam smelled of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was a dark place by birth that housed even darker people. Its soil was stained with blood and despair; of both Grisha and ordinary people. Their hiding places were for tormented souls who had long lost their humanity.

If you walked the wrong streets at night with an arrogant attitude, you would definitely not return alive. But if you turned south, and had a little money in your pocket, your feet would take you close to the huge, shiny, flashy casinos run by Pekka Rollins. You would pass clubs where the smell of beer mixed with cheating, and the laughter of drunks drowned out the screams of convicts across the boat harbor. The colors of these establishments ranged between red, orange and yellow, a vibrant explosion that, in such a funereal place, became infinitely more macabre.

If you were more adventurous, and had a little more money, you would pass by pleasure houses. With pink and purple facades, provocative titles and women perched in the windows, waving at any gentleman who smelled a fair amount of kruger, their chants insinuating and seductive. The silk pieces of these places waved like a Land in Sight flag for the lost and tormented men in that sea of stone that was called Ketterdam.

To less experienced - and novice - eyes, those places were just grotesque pieces that were part of a strange scenario. Just a bad city, without many mysteries or secrets. But Kaz Brekker, whose mother's name was Ketterdam, knew that these establishments were more profane than they first appear. Its sins were part of a long list of money laundering, human and arms trafficking, drug exports, a meeting point for commissioned murders and, deep in the corrupt heart of that city, the headquarters of the black market. He knew that Ketterdam was not just a land of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was the place where anyone could have absolutely everything for the right price.

And that's how he found you.

Kaz didn't like to remember that day. But it was engraved on his skin like a tattoo, like a hot iron. A damned, cursed reminder that despite his Herculean efforts to be the monster everyone whispered about, Kaz was still a man of flesh and warm blood. With a heart that writhed.

Something about that day in the past wasn't right. It was like a mysterious whisper in the breeze, an omen in the unknown eyes of the wanderers, a mistake in a painting that made his nerves itch. And Kaz Brekker always hated mysteries that he didn't know how to solve.

His cane banging against the thick, crooked stone floor in that even darker part of Ketterdam, the hem of his black coat swinging from side to side in the cold wind. He had 2,000 kruger in his pocket - the Crow Club's only money to pay employees, bribes, drinks and bills. He used and abused Ketterdam to offer everything at the right price, and now he was going to pay his debts to men who provided information, to locals who spiked the beer with water and sold it for a cheaper price, and to women who seduced targets and facilitated robberies. It was the only money he had.

He didn't have to look to the left, there was nothing for him there. He didn't have to wonder why people seemed to crowd closer to the curve of the last street. But, in a way that Brekker could never explain even in confidential whispers to his own soul, he turned that corner.

With his cane tapping on the ground, money in his pocket and responsibilities to fulfill, he approached, against all odds. Step by step, the air grew thicker, the invisible ropes tightened unjustifiably on the pulse of his neck, the ghostly sensation of the icy water approaching like the waves of the dark sea.

Those sensations were getting more confusing with each pump of blood. The physical consequences of his soul being shipwrecked at sea never came lightly, and this was a warning. A warning that Kaz Brekker should have turned around and walked away. While he still could.

The men around were euphoric. The women looked sadistic. And the racket of voices was too loud for him to be able to focus on a single line of conversation. The hands of men and women were raised and clutched money notes tightly, waving in the wind as if it were a flag, their sadistic, depravity-hungry eyes staring forward like predators in hunting season.

Perhaps in a parallel reality, Kaz would have followed every sign Ketterdam gave him to turn his back and leave. There's nothing for you here, Dirty Hands. Ketterdam needed demons and monsters to stay stand, it fed on trauma and anger to perpetuate the ‘everything for the right price’ market. People's chaos and hell were what maintained the local economy. Any possibility of redemption, peace and, worst of all, love, were severely condemned.

Go away, Bastard of the Barrel. Maybe Kaz would have exerted the steely control over his veins more tightly, maybe he would have listened to the city's singing and paid more attention to the sea that swelled its tide, and then there would have been a life in which he wouldn't have widened his eyes at the scene.. Go away.

The sea roared, the waves broke, the putrefying hands of the bodies drowned in the depths of the ocean grabbed his ankles with more ferocity, preventing, restricting, screaming that his place would forever be there with them in the dirt of the sea. But it was already too late. He looked at the reason for all the commotion. The sun fell on that girl's hair and it was as if the rays had also penetrated the deepest waters of that vast oceanic darkness, exorcising all the claws that retreated with infernal screams, letting go of his ankles as if they were burning.

It was like a ship's anchor being pulled up with extreme brutality, splashing water everywhere, pushing the dying pieces into the depths of hell, scaring birds in the air, and finally, finally, bringing his soul out into the warm air.

Kaz Brekker felt his entire body shake as if he had just died and been reincarnated, it was like an explosion in the darkest depths of his chest that made his blood warm again, his heart show that it was beating and his soul breathe.

The scene in front of him shouldn't have caused any commotion in his spirit. Ketterdam was not a good place, and it was home to even less good people. That open-air slave market was nothing new. It was repulsive, disgusting and disgusting, but not new. And it wasn't something Kaz got involved in. Everyone had problems with him, and he didn't play anyone's hero. Never.

Until now.

One of the girls was sitting on that improvised wooden stage, eyes extremely scared and that damn sun shining on her hair that shone like the heat of release that made him breathe for the first time. She was young, small as a rabbit, and her fur didn't belong on those rusty chains on her wrist. You.

That was all an lapse. A powerful lapse not only in his judgment, but in his long-tormented soul. He blinded himself for the first time since Pekka.

The deprivation of air, the burning of the claws sunk to the bottom of the cruel ocean, the ice that shook his bones and the smell of dead flesh swollen with rotten water had finally given him a respite.

A truce so portentous and so overwhelming that, for two blissful, desperate seconds, Kaz fucking Bekker felt fucking normal. He was breathing, for the love of the Saints. He felt the heat of the sun, his muscles were light, his heart was swollen and the corners of the world were as colorful as when he was 8 years old.

He felt Kaz Rietveld.

All because that girl was in his sight. As if her sight was a miracle to his torment. As if she were a curse to Ketterdam. No good feelings have a place here.

But it was already too late. That lapse made Kaz approach as if he no longer controlled his feet. It made his heart beat with blood that wasn't his. It made him take out the only money in his pocket and hold it up high as the biggest proposal. None of that insanity was coming from Brekker. But from Rietveld.

“Her.’’ he said in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own.

Yes, Kaz didn't like to remember that day. Because it was confirmation that the boy he had tried so hard to keep dead and drowned in the sea was as alive as tangil. And that beating heart was his. Fucking hell. That lapse cost a lot; all the money the Crow Club made in that month. Kaz Brekker had countless dangerous people to pay and he had no idea what would do. But what irritated and infuriated Kaz the most was that, when he looked into the eyes of that girl as fragile as a rabbit, he didn't regret it.

Not at all. Not a bit. Even when he had every reason in the world to regret it.

He didn't regret taking you out of those horrible rags you wore and buying you a dress. He didn't regret bringing you to his quarters even when still had no fucking idea what he would do to you now.

What use would such a small, fragile and beautiful girl would have? You looked like a little rabbit. He made a fucking mistake, because now this little rabbit was looking at him with those big eyes full of emotions: fear, innocence, curiosity. Brekker hated it. But his soul was smiling.

''Don't worry. I won’t touch you’’ Kaz said that day. His words dripped with venom, disgust, and self-loathing. He constantly thought that his condition was a sarcastic and cruel joke from the Saints that Inej prayed so much to; doomed to never stand a touch, to always be a broken and pathetic bastard to the point of mortal weakness. This always aroused anger, hatred, and a thirst for revenge against Pekka.

But looking into your big eyes…he felt as if something very valuable had been brutally ripped from him long before Kaz understood what he wanted.

Inej was wrong. The Saints were not merciful. They were as fucking sadistic as the demons of Ketterdam.

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The days passed, and Kaz still had no idea what to do with you. Or how to pay his debt to so many people or how to replenish Crow Club drinks. He hid you from the rest of the dregs because he didn't want to and didn't know how to explain the situation. What would he say? Kaz Brekker never did anything without a plan. Everyone knew that. And your presence refuted ALL the certainties and theories that Kaz always had a motive.

Until one day, what he knew would happen happened; fate than those who do not pay powerful people. If he didn't have money, then he had to pay in blood. As it always would be in Ketterdam.

--------

The moon was paler than usual that autumn, sending icy golden rays across the dark city. The breeze smelled of sea air, smoke, sand and blood.

Kaz sat down in his writing chair, gasping as the thud made his broken ribs hurt. His teeth clenched tightly and dropped the broken cane to the floor, his blood on the silver raven combined with the dried blood around his face.

“Oh My God’’ the voice that Rietveld’s soul loved so much sounded, terrified and in panic.

You.

Kaz closed his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath that you had chosen to come in at that exact moment. It had been 2 weeks since you were here, with him, but your presence still made his hate the reactions and sensations he had.

Brekker couldn't have feelings. Ketterdam didn't accept that, it didn't tolerate that. And the proof of this was the bloody state he was in. Sentimentality is a weakness. He repeated to himself. But why then did his soul not regret anything when he saw you? Damn, he'd probably do it all over again.

“Get out of here’’ his voice was hoarser and lower than usual. And, when you did the opposite and took a step forward, Kaz looked at you warningly ‘’Now’’ Brekker could handle a beating, he'd had it his whole life. He could deal with broken ribs, with a bloody face, with a broken cane, with wounded pride. But he can't deal with the feeling that, when you looked at him, what hurt and tortured him more than anything else was the fact that he was robbed of your touch. He couldn't touch. And it never sparked anything but a fire of rage and revenge. Until now.

Kaz Brekker couldn't feel you. Not even if he fell to his knees on the floor and prayed to all the Saints. Not even if he sobbed asking for just one day of mercy. Just one day. Just a memory of how your skin felt beneath his hands. It had been more than a century since Brekker had touched another skin, warm skin. His was always cold, cadaverous, wet even when it was completely dry. And that was never a reason for despair. Until now.

He wanted to touch you more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to slide his fingers across your cheek more than he wanted to slide his hands across money notes. But the sensation would send him back to the waters of Ketterdam. Back to the sickening feeling of rotten flesh and death surrounding him, making his chest tighten and his vision blacken as that traumatic memory would drag him back into.

The Saints were a fucking sadist. “Please…’’ your voice was broken and completely tearful. Please…

That single word - that single word alone had the power to bring his gaze up to you. Your pleading voice, your eyes filled with pain, not for your own, but for his, the way you whispered as if you was about to crumble.  You looked more scared than the day he took you from the slave market. Kaz fought down the tightening of his chest, his throat closing in. Please. Oh. He wanted to throw caution in the wind. Just once. Only for you. He wanted to put his gloves aside, just once. Just to hold your face. The desire to beg the Saints on one knee came back with more force. ''No" Kaz looked at you, staring into your eyes, as he saw you step closer. He watched the silk green dress flow, the fabric he bought for you, and for some reason it made him ache more. Damn dress.

He kept his eyes locked on that green silk for longer than expected. His body was completely bruised, but his thoughts were just feeling envious of that dress. That dress was on your skin. Feeling something he could never feel. Lucky dress.

Kaz heard your sobs get louder. "I beg you’’ You were about to fall apart “let me help…’’ He didn't know the extensions of his own injuries, but the look in your eyes said they were serious. Perhaps there was more blood than he expected.

Yes. his soul, Rietveld, screamed. Screaming so loud his bones shook. Yes. Touch me, make the cold go away again. Take me out of this ocean one more time. Help me. Touch me! Make the hands of the corpses leave my neck. Touch me. Saints, this is the most unbearable thing in the world. Kaz had no idea how long it had been since he had heard a person sob for him, but your voice broke something in him like nothing else. Kaz could get stabbed and beaten and shot, but this—this was the one thing he couldn't bear. "No'' Yes!

But you seemed in tune with his soul. As it has always been since he first saw you. You seemed to see beyond Brekker facade. Your footsteps reached him like desperate birds, your beautiful eyes growing wider every moment you saw the details of his injuries.

He didn't move from the chair, even when he should have, even when you fell to your knees between his feet, looking at him with so much fear and panic that he felt his heart skip a beat. Damn organ.

Yes. You looked beyond Brekker, You looked at Rietveld. And no one ever looked at Rietveld. “I promise to be quick. Just let me clean up the blood. Let me sterilize the knife cuts.’’ Your voice had so much pain that Kaz thought you were the one who suffered the beating. Which was impossible. Because Kaz Brekker would never let anyone touch you. but he can't touch you either. Yes, his fucking fate.

He wondered if you were so shaken because of guilt. Did you know that the 12 men he owed money got together to beat him? Did you know that he just hadn't paid because he used all the money to buy you? That's why you were so sentimental? Because the guilt. Out of pity. But it was impossible, Kaz never said anything about it. Maybe he was just looking for reasons to justify the magnitude of your concern with something other than feelings of the heart. “Please… I can't- I can't see you like this.” Your voice took him out of his thoughts, realizing that no matter how much he screamed inside, his expression remained as hard as a stone.

“I’m scared that something irreversible could happen.’’ you were honest, exposing your heart because you knew he wouldn’t expose his “Please, the thought of you dying makes me scared.’’ Yes, you were scared…like a cute rabbit. His body was hurting too much to know which stab wound was deeper, which were more superficial and which caused you so much panic.

Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his chest, but for a reason completely different from the wounds and bruising that plagued his body. Kaz wanted to put his guard up and push you away, but the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes pleading for his consent as you raised your palm up to his battered and bloodied skin, that pleading tone - And that dress. The fucking dress he bought for you - was making him lose.

Kaz looked down at your face. His heart was burning. What am I doing? Your eyes, gazing up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks, you were breaking because of him, for him. And saints — he couldn't…Not when you looked that way. Not when every fiber of his being wanted you. Touch me. Make me come out of the sea. Make me breathe again Kaz closed his eyes, his breath sharp as he braced himself. A moment of hesitation before he finally speaks. "Quick."

It was another lapsus. The biggest mistake he could make. Ketterdam was again screaming in the background in the form of furious winds; that city did not allow pure emotions, redemptions and love.

You were so quick to get up and run to the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and a desperate but relieved look. Your knees dropped to the floor once again between his feet, and your breathing was faster than it had ever been before.

You were going to touch him

It was a mistake. An absurd error. A sin and a profanation of the worst kind.

The tide of the icy ocean within him changed course, beginning to churn its waters and threatening to drown Kaz Brekker once again. The sensation was as if his skin was swelling from the cold waves, like a corpse that had been discarded at sea for centuries. And that wouldn't be far from the truth. Kaz Rietveld was shipwrecked in that ocean along with Jordie. Along with all the other unfortunate people in that damned city.

So why did he also feel Rietveld now more than ever? when you were about to touch him.

Kaz's soul stirred, perhaps in desperation, perhaps begging for release. Maybe for both things. The emotions were so strong that he felt like vomiting the salty sea water stuck in his lungs. Then he focused on one point: the smooth skin of your neck.

You were so nervous and desperate that he could see your vein pulsing, a few errant droplets of sweat running from behind your ear to your slender neck, making their tempting way, mocking Kaz for not being able to follow the same path with his fingers.

Would he be able to fool his demons if he made that journey with his mouth? Could it be that his tongue also carried his traumas?

The wet towel went over one of his cuts, and Kaz swore so loudly that it scared you. His fingers locked for a second in the chair, but your fear of him changing his mind was greater than your fear of his reactions. You pressed the towel again, and again, and moved from one wound to the next. Your movements were in automatic mode to want to take advantage of his permission as much as possible, to help as much as possible in a time limit that you didn't know.

The invisible clock chimed like a premonition.

With one hand, you used your trembling fingers to move a piece of his cut shirt to the side. And your and his skins brushed

Holy Mother of Saints. Kaz grunted, letting his head fall back and pressing his fingers into the wood of the chair's arms even more. He closed his eyes tightly. The avalanche of emotions raised a tisunami in his sea and crashed over him with such brutality that Kaz felt he might die again. And revive.

Your fingers brushed against his skin once again, and this time his chest exploded on a different note; as if the heat of the sun was fighting to rescue him from the bottom of the sea. Making its way through the petrifying waters like a ray of heat. Like a chance. A hope. Or as an illusion.

Kaz Brekker never cried. He came out of that ocean swearing revenge, like a ghost, a monster, the murderer of Rietveld. Vowing to be a knight of the apocalypse. But he was none of those things. Kaz was a man of flesh and blood. With a heart that bled every day, with a soul neglected and so massacred that it bordered on unrecognizability: but not total annihilation.

Kaz Brekker never cried. But Kaz Rietveld did.

Being touched, after so many years without even human contact, made Brekker want to vomit, scream, cut his hands off, drown himself with Jordie, blow Pekker's brains out. But it made Rietveld want to cry, to cry out to the saints for salvation, to beg that he could have just one good thing in life. Please. his soul tore in prayers. Please…let me have this moment…for the love of God, have mercy on me just now. Somehow, he didn't vomit, and his skin on his became more like being caressed by the sun. He squeezed his eyes closed even more and imagined himself on the roof of the Crow Club, beneath the midday sun of the height of summer.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your hands pressed bandages into his deep cuts.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your breathing was heavy and your fingers pushed the rest of his bloody shirt away.

You were the sun. Just it.

Kaz repeated that like a mantra. A prayer. A choir. An exorcism. But his midday sun at the height of summer was beginning to be clouded, the sea on the horizon was beginning to swell, and Jordie's voice was beginning to rise from the dead in the air. The second he couldn't take it anymore, you pulled his hands away. Brekker breathed a sigh of relief. Rietveld screamed in despair.

‘’You’re going to be fine’’ your voice was as shaky as his emotions.

Kaz couldn't open his eyes yet. Not now. Not at this moment and… the absence of touch gave way to the feeling of extremely warm lips touching one of his bandages for a second.

This removed him from his disabilities. Stunned and perplexed, Kaz opened his eyes immediately and tilted his head towards you the same second his your moved away.

If your touches had been the sun, that micro kiss had been the entire fire.

“My mother one day said that kissing the wound makes it heal faster.” Maybe you were holding on tooth and nail to all the things that guaranteed you that Kaz Brekker would survive that moment.

Maybe a kiss heals wounds faster... indeed. Kaz Brekker thought before a curve of a smile painted his lips.

[hoe4hotchner]

Bound by the sea | [A.H]

Pairing: Pirate!Hotch x fem!Reader

CW: Is this maybe enemies to lovers??? Perhaps, I don't know, because Hotch isn’t really an enemy as much as he just kidnapped you. Kidnapping, non-consensual captivity, emotional distress, hints of violence, violence, manipulation, power dynamics, light danger, robbery, plundering, alcohol consumption, mild aggression, emotional tension, hints of romance, weapons. Loneliness, blood. Hotch is a brutal pirate when he steals from people, Y/N used twice, I mention rum a lot, and there’s a moment in the latter half of the story where I really wanted Hotch to say, "Minions, tonight we steal the moon!"—if you can spot it, you're a legend. No sex, but I hint at the possibility of rape twice if you're not careful as a pirate—not mentioned directly, you have to read between the lines. Maybe there’s a wedding, who knows? Pirate talk—is that even a warning

WC: 15.5k

Summary: Hotch is a pirate, he kidnaps you, you adapt to the life and fall in love with him.

A/N: I'm sorry this is so long, but I got carried away and couldn't stop. Enjoy!

Based on this moodboard

           The night was thick with the scent of saltwater and the hum of the ocean beneath you, a blanket of inky darkness stretching over the horizon. Waves rocked the ship gently, a deceptive lull to the chaos you’d been thrown into. You sat in the dimly lit cabin, your wrists bound together with rope rougher than what was necessary, and the memory of how you’d gotten here was still a vivid blur.

           One moment, you had been safe in your bed on your father's estate - untouchable, or so you thought. And the next, you were dragged away from the safety of your home by men who smelled a little too much of rum and sea air, with no explanation other than your value as a hostage.

           Your captor - Captain Aaron Hotchner - was the man behind it all. He had led the raid on your father’s estate, taking you as a prize, a bargaining chip to use against the very people you called family. You had heard of Captain Hotchner before - feared and revered across the seas, known for his cruelty and cunning. But nothing had prepared you for the man himself.

           The door to the cabin creaked open, and your heart raced as the figure of Captain Hotchner stepped inside, his silhouette imposing against the lantern's flickering light. He was tall, dressed in his dark, weather-worn captain's coat, his eyes gleaming with intensity and amusement as they landed on you.

           "Good evening," he said, his voice smooth and unsettlingly calm. "I trust you’re settling in well."

           You glared at him, feeling the fire of anger in your chest rise. “You kidnapped me,” you spat, trying to tug at your bindings though it was no use. "How do you expect me to settle in when you’ve stolen me from my home?"

           Hotch smiled - an infuriating, almost charming smile that didn't belong on the face of a pirate. He stepped closer, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor until he was standing in front of you, towering over you with a confidence that made your skin prickle.

           "Kidnapped, stolen - such harsh words," he mused, crossing his arms casually. "I prefer to think of it as... relocation. You’re safe here, aren’t you?"

           Safe? The very idea made you laugh bitterly. “You’re a pirate. I’m your prisoner. How could I possibly be safe?”

           He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if considering your words. "You wound me," he said with mock offense. "I’ve taken you from the dangers of the land - away from a world of treachery and deception. Your father has enemies, you know. He’s made more than a few people unhappy. Here, under my care, no harm will come to you."

           You stared at him, incredulous. He truly believed what he was saying - like he had done you a favor by dragging you away in the dead of night.

           “And what do you want in return?” you demanded, your voice sharp. “My father’s ransom?”

           Hotch’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He took another step forward, kneeling before you so he was at your eye level. You tried not to shrink back, but there was something undeniably intimidating about him - something dark and unyielding.

           “Your father’s wealth, his power... perhaps,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “But you, my dear, are far more valuable than any gold or ransom.”

           Your breath hitched at his words, and you stared at him, trying to decipher his intentions. The way he spoke, the way his eyes held yours - it was unnerving. There was a dangerous charm to him, a magnetic pull that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t understand.

           “I don’t understand,” you whispered, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

           Captain Hotchner leaned in closer, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. “You will,” he murmured, his voice was dark and teasing as if he held all the cards and you were merely a pawn in his game of chess. “In time, you’ll see that there's a reason for everything I do, that being here, with me, is far better than anything your former life could offer.”

           You shook your head, your chest tight with anger and fear. “You’re mad,” you said with a laugh, your voice was barely above a whisper.

           “Am I?” he asked, his smile never faltering. “Or am I the only person being truly truthful with you, are you just too used to your comfortable, sheltered life to see that there’s more to the world than you’ve been told?”

           You wanted to argue, to tell him that he was wrong, that there was nothing good about being held captive by a pirate who acted as charming as he was dangerous. But the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his fingers brushed against your arm, sent a shiver down your spine. There was something intoxicating about him, something that made your skin tingle under his touch, even though every rational part of you knew you should be terrified, that you should fight.

           “You’ll come around,” he said softly, his voice a promise laced with darkness. “You’ll see that I’m not your enemy, no matter what you’ve been taught to believe.”

           You shook your head again, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity. “I’ll never trust you.”

           Captain Hotchner chuckled softly, his hand coming up to tilt your chin so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “We’ll see about that,” he whispered, his tone soft yet menacing. “For now, I suggest you get some rest. You’ll need your strength in the days to come.”

           And with that, he stood, giving you one last, lingering look before turning to leave the cabin. The door creaked shut behind him, and you were left alone once more, your heart racing and your mind swirling with confusion and anger.

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The quiet after his departure felt heavier than the moments before. Your mind was a storm of conflicting emotions - fear, anger, and something else, something unsettling that lingered in your chest. Aaron Hotchner was no ordinary pirate. He was calm and controlled - far more composed than the brash, ruthless men you had imagined when thinking of the pirates in the stories your father used to tell you about. And that made him infinitely more dangerous.

           You tried to settle into the small cot in the corner of the cabin, though the ropes binding your wrists made it difficult. Sleep seemed impossible, with thoughts of escape and Captain Hotchner's strange charm keeping you on edge. You needed a plan - anything to break free from the hold he seemed to have, not just over your body but your mind as well.

           Hours passed, or perhaps it was minutes - you had lost all sense of time. The creaking of the ship, the distant voices of the crew, and the gentle rocking of the waves became a maddening rhythm that you couldn’t escape. Every sound reminded you of where you were, trapped aboard a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean with no way out.

           Just as your frustration reached its peak, the door creaked open again. You shot up, heart pounding, expecting to see Hotch again. Instead, it was one of his crewmembers, a gruff man with a scar running down his cheek. He held a tray with food and water, setting it down on the small wooden table in the corner without a word. His eyes lingered on you for a moment - an unsettling, assessing look - but he said nothing and left just as quickly as he had come.

           You stared at the tray. The food was simple - bread, cheese, and some sort of dried meat - but your stomach growled in protest at the sight. Still, you hesitated, unsure if eating meant giving in to your captors somehow, letting them win this small battle. But the gnawing hunger eventually overpowered your pride, and you carefully tore a piece of bread, your eyes flicking nervously toward the door as if the captain would appear again.

           Hours seemed to pass like this—alone with your thoughts, pacing the small cabin. The door remained closed, and every creak of the ship made you jump. You knew Captain Hotchner was playing some kind of game with you, keeping you waiting, on edge. It was a test of endurance, and you were determined not to break.

           But when the door finally opened again, your heart still leapt into your throat. This time, it was him.

           Captain Hotchner strode into the room with the same quiet authority as before. He had discarded his heavy coat, revealing a simple white shirt, the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, but it did nothing to soften the intensity of his presence. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it as his eyes swept over you.

           “You didn’t eat much,” he observed, his voice casual but with that underlying edge.

           “I’m not hungry,” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest defensively to the best of your ability.

           Captain Hotchner's lips twitched in a smile that was more knowing than amused. He pushed off from the door and crossed the small room in a few strides, standing close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. There was something predatory in the way he moved.

           “You’re strong-willed,” he said softly, his voice was almost admiring. “I expected no less from someone like you.”

           Your heart raced at his proximity, but you refused to back down. “Someone like me?” you repeated, your voice shaking slightly despite your efforts to remain steady. “What do you mean by that?”

           He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. You flinched, fearing the worst, but didn’t pull away, determined not to show weakness.

           “Someone raised in luxury,” he murmured, his hand lingering as he spoke. “Used to having things your way. Butlers and maids waiting on your beg and call. It’s fascinating to watch how you adapt, how you try to hold on to that sense of control even when it’s been taken from you.”

           His words were like a challenge, one you couldn’t help but rise to.

           “I won’t adapt,” you snapped at him, your voice sharper now. “I won’t fall into whatever twisted game you’re playing.”

           He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He withdrew his hand but remained close, his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh, I think you will,” he said, his tone was light but firm as if he had no doubt. “In time, you’ll see that this life - this ship and my crew - is not so different from the world you knew. There are rules, there’s power, and there are choices you'll have to make along the way.”

           “Choices?” you scoffed, incredulous. “You think I have a choice in any of this?”

           Captain Hotchner leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his breath against your cheek. “There’s always a choice,” he whispered, his voice low with a tint of danger to it. “You can choose to fight me, resist, and make this more difficult for yourself. Or... you can choose to see things my way.”

           Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t find words. The weight of his gaze, the intensity of his presence - it was overwhelming. And yet, beneath the fear and anger, there was something else. Something you didn’t want to admit to yourself.

           “I’ll never see things your way,” you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

           Captain Hotchner's smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see about that, now won't we?” he said softly, his fingers brushing your cheek before he pulled away entirely. He straightened, his expression once again unreadable.

           “We’ll be docking soon,” he said, his tone shifting back to something more businesslike. “I suggest you prepare yourself.”

           “Docking? Where are you taking me?” you demanded, panic rising again.

           He didn’t answer immediately. He turned toward the door but paused just before opening it, glancing back at you with that same infuriating smile. “You’ll see soon enough.”

                                 ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           You stared at the door long after it closed, his parting words echoing in your mind like a dark promise. "You'll see soon enough." What did that even mean? Your thoughts churned with anxiety, but behind the fear, there was a wave of simmering anger - anger at Hotch for taking you, for speaking to you like he had all the control, and anger at yourself for the strange pull you felt whenever he was near.

           With a frustrated sigh, you tugged at the ropes around your wrists. They were tightly knotted, the rough fibers digging and burning into your skin, but you knew that getting out of them wasn’t going to be easy. Your eyes darted around the small cabin, searching for anything that could help. There was a chair, a desk, and a small and dull knife on the tray of food. If you could just get to it, maybe you’d have a chance.

           But the thought of escape wasn’t as comforting as it should have been. What would happen after? You were on a ship in the middle of the sea, surrounded by men who followed Captain Hotchner without question. Even if you managed to free yourself, where would you go?

           The door creaked open again before you could formulate a plan. You instinctively straightened, tension rippling through your body, but it wasn’t the captain this time. One of his crewmembers - this time a man with a crooked smile and a rough beard - entered the room, carrying what looked like a set of clothes.

           “The captain said you'd be needing this,” he said, tossing the bundle onto the bed without preamble.

           You eyed the clothes suspiciously, then looked back at the man. “What for?”

           The man grinned, his teeth yellowed and uneven. “For when we dock, missy. Can’t have you wandering around in that fancy dress. Might draw too much attention, y'know?”

           “And where exactly are we docking?” you asked, though you doubted you’d get a straight answer.

           The man just chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, echoing Captain Hotchner's earlier words. Without another word, he moved toward you, and before you could react, he reached down and began untying the ropes around your wrists.

           You flinched instinctively, unsure of his intentions, but his hands worked deftly, loosening the bindings until they fell away. The relief was immediate, the dull ache in your arms easing as you rubbed your sore wrists, shooting the man a wary glance.

           He stood up, giving you a crooked smile. “Don’t think about runnin’,” he warned, though there was no malice in his voice. “There’s nowhere to go but the sea. The captain will be feedin' ya to the sharks if you do.”

           With that, he turned and left, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

           You glanced down at the clothes - a simple tunic and trousers, nothing like the finely embroidered dress you’d been wearing when you were taken. The material was coarse but practical, the kind of thing someone working on a ship might wear. You supposed they wanted you to blend in, to look like one of them. The thought made your stomach twist, but you realized you didn’t have much choice. Captain Hotchner was right about one thing - you could fight and make this harder for yourself, or you could play along, at least until you figured out a way to turn the tables.

           With a sigh, you slipped off your dress and changed into the clothes, the rough fabric scratching against your skin. You had barely finished adjusting the trousers when you heard footsteps again, and before you could react, the door swung open.

           This time, it was in fact, Captain Hotchner.

           He stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in the change of attire with a faint smile. “Much better,” he said, his voice carrying that same quiet authority. “You’ll find it easier to move around like that.”

           “I didn’t exactly have a choice or an opportunity to move around before, did I?” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively.

           His smile deepened, though it was more like a smirk. “No, you didn’t.” He stepped further into the cabin, closing the door behind him, and the tension in the room thickened immediately. His presence was overwhelming, as it always was, but now there was something more - something almost... possessive in the way he looked at you.

           “I’m not your prisoner,” you said, trying to sound strong, though your voice wavered slightly.

           Captain Hotchner's eyes darkened, his smile fading as he took another step toward you. “Aren’t you?” he asked, his voice was low, almost a whisper, although you could sense a hint of amusement in his tone. “You’re on my ship and in my world now. You’ll find that things here don’t work the way they do in yours.”

           His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you took a small step back, your heart racing. “And what exactly do you want from me?” you demanded, your voice firmer this time. “What’s your plan, Captain?”

           Captain Hotchner tilted his head, studying you for a long moment before answering. “I want you to see things my way,” he said simply. “To understand that what happens here - what we do - it’s all for survival. For power. You’re no different from us. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

           You shook your head, incredulous. “You kidnapped me! That’s not survival, that’s-”

           “Necessary,” He interrupted, his tone was cold and final. “Everything I do is necessary.”

           Your jaw clenched in frustration. He wasn’t just a pirate - he was something more dangerous. Someone who believed he was in the right, no matter how twisted his actions were. Someone who everyone feared in some way or the other. And that made him nearly impossible to reason with.

           Before you could retort, the captain stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and despite yourself, your breath hitched.

           “You’ll come to understand in time,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours. “They all did. You’re not my prisoner. You’re part of something much bigger now.”

           Your heart pounded in your chest, and you wanted to push him away, to fight back, but something about his voice, his presence - it made you hesitate.

           “I don’t want to be part of this,” you whispered, though the conviction in your voice had wavered.

           Captain Hotchner's hand lingered near your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek for just a moment longer before he pulled back. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said softly, turning toward the door. “You already are.”

           You stood frozen, staring at the door long after it closed behind him, your mind racing with a storm of conflicting emotions. The gentle brush of his fingers against your skin lingered, as if the ghost of his touch was still there, seeping into your thoughts. Part of you wanted to scream, to lash out at the unfairness of your situation, at him - for being so impossibly frustrating, so self-assured in his warped view of things. But another part, a quieter part, couldn’t shake the unsettling pull you felt toward him, despite everything.

           You hated that part.

           With a deep breath, you sat down on the bed, your hands gripping the edge of the rough wooden frame, knuckles turning white at the sheer force of your grip. You couldn't let him get into your head. He may have you physically trapped, but you weren’t going to let him manipulate you. You had to find a way out, even if that meant playing along for now.

           As time passed, the ship swayed gently beneath you, the sounds of waves crashing against the hull and the muffled voices of the crew filling the silence of the cabin. Your mind wandered, thoughts drifting back to Captain Hotchner. The man was infuriatingly complex - dangerous and controlling, yet oddly gentle in his actions toward you. He had the power to command an entire crew of ruthless pirates, the power to kill, but something about the way he spoke to you, how he lingered, suggested he wasn’t just a ruthless villain like everyone made him out to be.

           But he was still your captor.

           A soft knock interrupted your thoughts. You tensed, expecting to see Hotch again, but instead, the door creaked open, revealing a younger crewmember. His clothes were worn, his hair tangled, and his face had a nervous energy about it. He stepped inside cautiously, holding a tray of food.

           “Captain’s orders,” he said quietly, placing the tray on the table near the bed with the other barely touched tray of food. “He said you should eat.”

           You didn’t respond, your eyes narrowing as you glanced at the tray. Bread, cheese, and what looked like some sort of stew this time. Simple but more than you expected from pirates. The boy shifted awkwardly under your gaze, looking down at his boots.

           “You don’t talk much, do you?” he asked, offering a nervous smile.

           You shook your head, still suspicious. “Why do you follow him?” you asked abruptly, catching him off guard. “Captain Hotchner. Why do you all listen to him?”

           The boy blinked, surprised by your question. He hesitated before answering, his voice quiet. “Captain Hotchner… he’s not like other pirates i've met. He takes care of us. He protects us. A lot of us wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” He glanced around the cabin, almost as if making sure Hotch wasn’t listening. “He has his reasons for everything. You may not see it now, but the captain… he’s not as bad as you might think.”

           You bit your lip, his words stirring something inside you. Was it loyalty that kept them all in line? Or fear?

           Before you could respond, the boy gave you a small nod and turned to leave. “Just… eat something, alright? You’re gonna need your strength.”

           Once the door clicked shut, you stared at the tray for a long moment, your stomach growling despite the tension that gripped you. You finally relented, picking up the bread and taking a small bite. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to clear your head, giving you some much-needed focus.

           As you ate, your thoughts circled back to the captain. You couldn’t let him win. If the crew saw him as a protector, as someone to be followed, there had to be a way to use that to your advantage. Maybe you could earn their trust too. Maybe you could find a crack in his armor, something that would give you leverage.

           But first, you had to play along. You had to be smart.

           Later, as the ship rocked gently and the sounds of the crew faded into the evening, you laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Captain Hotchner's words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the battle ahead.

           “You’re part of this now.”

           Maybe you were. But that didn’t mean you had to accept it.

           With that thought, you drifted off into an uneasy sleep, knowing that tomorrow, you’d have to face the captain again - and somehow, find a way to turn the tides in your favor.

                            ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The next morning, you woke to the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the small cabin window. The sound of footsteps and muted conversations echoed from above deck, reminding you once again of where you were, it had in fact not just been a nightmare that you were trapped on a pirate ship. The reality of it weighed heavily on your chest, but you swallowed the anxiety, forcing yourself to rise and steady your mind.

           You couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken.

           The door creaked open before you could prepare yourself and Captain Hotchner stepped inside, as if summoned by your thoughts, his presence commanding the room. He didn’t say anything at first, simply letting his eyes sweep over you as if assessing. His dark hair was tousled slightly, the sea breeze having its way - you could only imagine the wind having blown through it as he steered the ship - but he still looked as composed as ever.

           "Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice rich and calm, as though he hadn’t abducted you and was holding you captive onboard his ship.

           You refused to give him the satisfaction of answering him. Instead, you crossed your arms and leveled him with a steady glare, one you hoped conveyed more strength than you felt.

           Captain Hotchner's lips quirked slightly, that infuriating smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Still defiant, I see."

           He stepped closer, but instead of looming over you, he walked past, his fingers brushing along the edge of the table as he observed the mostly empty plate from last night’s meal.

           "You ate," he noted, almost as if pleased. "Good. I need you strong."

           "For what?" you snapped, tired of his vague answers. "What’s your plan? To keep me locked in this cabin forever while you and your crew plunder villages and kill innocent people? Or is there something worse waiting for me? Cause if so, you might as well kill me now."

           He turned then, his expression was unreadable as his eyes bore into yours. "You’ll see soon enough."

           His nonchalance infuriated you. It wasn’t just that he had taken you - it was the way he acted as if you were already part of his world, as if you would eventually bend to him.

           "You’re a monster," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

           To your surprise, Captain Hotchner didn’t seem angered by the accusation. Instead, he tilted his head, watching you closely, his expression softening just slightly.

           "Maybe I am," he said after a pause, his voice was quiet. "But that doesn’t change anything. You belong here now."

           You clenched your fists, your pulse quickening at his words. "I don’t belong to anyone," you shot back, your voice shaking with both rage and defiance.

           Hotch’s eyes darkened, but his expression remained calm. "You’ll change your mind soon enough, just you wait and see."

           With that, he stepped closer, his figure once again towering over you. His presence was suffocating, and yet, there was something in his gaze that drew you in, a strange pull that you hated to acknowledge.

           "I can see the fire in you," the captain murmured, his voice lower now, as if he was telling you a secret, it was almost tender. "It’s what makes you interesting. But if you think you can escape or fight me off, you’ll find yourself sorely mistaken. I'm sure Scully already told you about the sharks."

           Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. He wasn’t threatening you - not in the traditional way and certainly not in the way you’d expect from a pirate. No, this was different. It was as if he truly believed that you would eventually choose to stay, that you’d give in willingly.

           "You’re wrong," you whispered, your voice was barely audible.

           Captain Hotchner's eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, a gesture that sent a shiver down your spine.

           "Perhaps," he murmured, his thumb grazing your cheek lightly before he pulled away. "But time will tell."

           "And I'm always right," He muttered under his breath. And with that, he turned and left the cabin, leaving you alone once more, your heart racing and your mind spinning. What could all of this mean?

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The days passed slowly aboard the ship. The crew seemed to give you space, not daring to question their captain's decision to keep you. But you noticed the way they looked at you when they thought you weren’t paying attention - they were curious, perhaps even wary of you. You were the captain’s captive, after all, and no one dared question the captain.

           Captain Hotchner visited you often in the cabin, sometimes bringing you meals to ensure you ate something, other times simply sitting in the cabin, watching you in silence. He never pushed you, never forced you into anything - not like you'd heard tales of what pirates usually did to their captives - but his presence was a constant reminder of your imprisonment. He was always calm and always composed around you, as if he was waiting for something - for you to break, perhaps.

           But you refused. You wouldn’t let him win.

           One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow across the cabin, you heard a knock at the door. It wasn’t the captain this time this time. Instead, it was the young boy from a couple of days ago.

           "The captain wants to see you," he said, his voice shaky.

           You stood, your heart pounding. You hadn’t been out of the cabin all day, and the idea of facing Hotch in front of the rest of the crew made your stomach twist with anxiety. But you couldn’t stay hidden forever.

           The boy led you above deck, where the cool sea breeze hit your face, a contrast to the stuffy air in your cabin. The ship was alive with movement - sails being adjusted, ropes being pulled, boards being mopped, and the creaking of the wood beneath your feet. And there, at the helm, stood Captain Hotchner, his hands resting on the wheel as he gazed out at the open sea.

           When he noticed you, he smiled - calm, assured, and maddeningly in control.

           "Come," he called, his voice carrying over the sound of the waves. "There’s something I want you to see."

           Despite your reluctance, you stepped closer, your eyes narrowing as you tried to figure out what he was planning. The captain didn’t speak right away. Instead, he nodded toward the horizon, where a small island was visible in the distance.

           "That’s our destination," he said quietly. "A place where no one will find you."

           Your breath caught in your throat as the full weight of his words settled over you. This wasn’t just about keeping you captive. This was about taking you away, far from anything familiar. Far from escape.

           "You’re mad if you think I'm staying there," you whispered, shaking your head. "I’ll never—"

           "Yes, you will," he interrupted, his voice steady but firm. "Because whether you like it or not, this is your life now. And besides, the elements will take care of you sooner rather than later if you try to escape." He shrugged at the last part.

           You stared at him, your heart pounding as a mixture of fear and anger welled up inside you. You wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to yell. But even as you opened your mouth to argue, you realized something terrifying, no words wanted to come out.

           A part of you didn’t want to leave.

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The journey to the island felt endless, the tension between you and the captain hung like a storm cloud. Every day, you were met with the same dark horizon, the endless expanse of ocean offering no solace. But the island grew larger with each passing moment, and with that came a haunting promise of your new reality.

           When you finally arrived, the crew worked swiftly to anchor the ship just offshore, lowering a small rowboat into the water. Captain Hotchner approached you in the cabin, his expression unreadable as he gestured toward the door.

           “It’s time.”

           You swallowed, your pulse quickening as you stood. There was no escaping this. If you didn't move your own legs, he would have someone move them for you. You were far from anything familiar, and the chances of finding help on this isolated island were slimer than you prefered. Still, you couldn't show your fear - not to him, not to his crew.

           The rowboat swayed slightly as you stepped into it, and the captain followed, settling in beside you as a few men from the crew lowered you down into the water. Two of his men rowed in silence, their eyes downcast, avoiding your gaze as if they knew something you didn’t. Captain Hotchner sat across from you, his arms resting on his knees, his eyes watching you carefully. His calm demeanor only heightened your anxiety, as if he had already anticipated your every move.

           The boat glided smoothly toward the shore, rocking softly with the waves, and when it touched the sand, the captain was the first to stand, offering you his hand. You hesitated, the stubborn part of you wanting to refuse, but the logical side winning, not wanting to fall into the water. You took his hand, letting him help you out of the boat.

           As your feet sank into the soft sand, you took in the sight of the island. It wasn’t large - just enough to support a dense forest and a stretch of beach. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was the only noise, apart from the distant calls of seabirds. It was eerily quiet, an isolated paradise... or a prison.

           Captain Hotchner walked ahead, leading you up the beach toward the treeline. "Come," he called over his shoulder, not waiting for you to catch up. You followed reluctantly, the sand giving way to a narrow path that led through the trees.

           Your heart pounded in your chest as you stepped into the shade of the forest, the thick canopy blocking out most of the sunlight. The path wound deeper into the island, and after what felt like an eternity, you finally emerged into a small clearing.

           In the center of the clearing stood a humble cabin, tucked away in the foliage like a hidden secret. It was rustic, with weathered wood and a thatched roof, but it was clear it had been maintained.

           “You’ll stay here,” the captain said, his voice calm as if he were simply giving a tour. “It’s safe, isolated. No one will find you, not even my men.”

           You stared at him, disbelief and anger swirling within you. “You’re serious?!” you spat. “You plan to keep me here like some kind of... animal in a zoo?”

           He met your gaze, his expression steady. “You’re not an animal,” he said quietly, his tone almost soothing. “You’re protected. No one will harm you here.” You couldn't think of anyone who would harm you, but him.

           The absurdity of his words made you laugh bitterly. “Protected? You took me, and now you’re isolating me on a deserted island. How is that protection? If anything I will go insane.”

           Captain Hotchner didn’t flinch at your accusation. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Because I won’t let anyone take you from me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You belong to me now.”

           His words sent a chill down your spine, and you took an instinctive step back. The rational part of you screamed that this was insane, that you needed to find a way out, but there was something in his gaze - something dark and possessive - that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t fully understand.

           He watched you for a moment longer before turning toward the cabin. He pushed open the door, revealing a simple interior: a bed, a small table, and a few shelves stocked with supplies and books. It was far from luxurious, but it was clear he had prepared this place specifically for you.

           “I’ll leave you to settle in,” Captain Hotchner said, his voice softer now. “But don’t think about trying to escape. You won’t get far.”

           Before you could respond, he turned and walked back down the path, leaving you standing in the doorway of the cabin alone with your racing thoughts.

           You stepped inside, glancing around the small space, your mind reeling. It was all too much to process. You were on a deserted island, trapped by a man who believed you belonged to him. And yet, despite the fear and anger simmering inside you, there was a small part of you that wondered what would happen if you stayed. If you stopped fighting.

           That thought terrified you.

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           Days passed, and you fell into an uneasy routine. Captain Hotchner would visit the cabin daily, bringing supplies, checking in on you, always watching you with that same intense gaze. His presence felt suffocating. He seemed to be waiting for something, waiting for you to stop resisting him.

           And the worst part was, you felt yourself weakening. The isolation, the quiet of the island, and the strange charm Hotch carried as he arrived - it all started to wear on you. You hated him for what he’d done, but there was no denying the magnetic pull he had over you. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke - it was impossible to ignore, and you were starting to feel it too.

           One evening, as the sun began to set, the captain arrived at the cabin once more. This time, however, he didn’t bring supplies. Instead, he sat down at the small table, gesturing for you to join him.

           Reluctantly, you sat across from him, your arms crossed as you eyed him warily.

           “You’re adjusting,” he noted.

           “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you replied, your tone sharper than you intended.

           Captain Hotchner's lips quirked slightly. “True. But I can see it in you - in your eyes, you’re beginning to accept this.”

           Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “I’ll never accept this,” you said quietly, though the conviction in your voice wavered.

           Captain Hotchner leaned forward, his eyes locking onto yours. “You will,” he said softly. “And when you do, you’ll realize that this is where you were always meant to be.”

           You stared at him, your pulse quickening as the weight of his words settled over you. There was something terrifying in the way he spoke, as if he truly believed that this was your fate.

                             ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           Days turned into weeks on the island, the crash of waves and the endless whisper of wind through the trees becoming your only companions as Captain Hotchner started visiting less frequently. The small, confined space of the cabin that had once felt like a prison now felt like a strange kind of refuge. The fight inside you, that spark of rebellion, had dulled over time, replaced by a heavy sense of resignation as you'd given into your loneliness. You had started to long for his visits.

           You knew, logically, that this wasn’t right - nothing about this was right. And yet, the more time you spent on the island, the more his words echoed in your mind. “You belong here now.” It was ridiculous, but there was a part of you that started to believe it. You had no way of knowing how long you would remain here, and the idea of constantly fighting him seemed... exhausting. So, bit by bit, you stopped resisting.

           When Hotch visited, you stopped turning your back to him. You no longer flinched when he stood close, and your anger no longer flared when he spoke to you in that infuriatingly calm, slick voice. You even started responding to him, not with defiance, but with quiet conversation, as if the simple exchange of words could anchor you to some semblance of normalcy.

           One evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, Captain Hotchner arrived at the cabin. He lingered at the doorway, watching you for a moment, before stepping inside.

           You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands folded in your lap. You had stopped fighting your reality. It didn’t mean you had fully accepted it, but it was easier than constantly resisting.

           He took a few steps closer, his gaze never leaving you. “I think it’s time,” he said softly.

           You blinked, looking up at him. “Time for what?”

           He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “To return to the ship.”

           A strange mix of emotions surged through you - fear, uncertainty, but also... relief. The island had felt like a prison, but in truth, it had also been a place of isolation, you felt lonely. Going back to the ship meant returning to the world, in a way, even if it was under the captain's constant control.

           “I thought you were going to leave me here forever,” you said quietly, unable to hide the wariness in your voice.

           His lips curled into a small smile. “I told you before. You’re not a prisoner. You’re with me, I just needed you to realize.”

           His words should have sent a chill down your spine, but instead, they settled over you like a blanket of inevitability. You stood, smoothing your hands over your garments, and nodded once. “Alright.”

           Captain Hotchner seemed pleased with your response. Without another word, he turned and led the way out of the cabin, down the path toward the beach where his men waited with the small rowboat. You followed behind him, your heart pounding in your chest as the sound of the waves grew louder.

          When you reached the shore, the captain turned to face you, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of resistance. But you had none left to offer. You stepped into the rowboat with him, the familiar sway beneath your feet sending a strange sense of déjà vu through your body, although the rocking motion made you feel nauseous after not spending time on the water for so long.

           As the crew rowed you back toward the ship, you couldn’t help but look at Hotch. There was something about him, something dark and powerful, but also compelling. He had taken everything from you - your freedom, your choices - and yet, he made it seem as though he had given you everything, a place, a purpose.

           When the rowboat reached the side of the ship, Hotch climbed up first, offering you his hand as you hesitated on the edge of the boat. You glanced up at him, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place. For a brief moment, you thought about refusing, about fighting again. But the fight had long since faded. So, you took his hand.

           The ship felt both familiar and foreign as you stepped aboard. The crew glanced at you, their expressions carefully neutral, but you could sense their curiosity. They had all watched your arrival, your defiance, and now... they saw your surrender. You wondered if they pitied you, or if they admired your resilience for lasting this long. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.

           Captain Hotchner's hand lingered on your arm as he led you toward the cabin you had first been brought to all those weeks ago. “You’ll stay in here again,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s certainly more comfortable than the island.”

           You didn’t argue. You simply nodded, stepping into the cabin once more. The space hadn’t changed - it was still simple, still confining - but it felt different now. You felt different now.

           As you sat down on the edge of the bed, the captain stood in the doorway, watching you with that same intense gaze. “You’ve made the right choice,” he said softly.

           You met his eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions churn inside you - fear, anger, but also... something else. Something you couldn’t name.

           “I didn’t have a choice,” you whispered, though the words lacked the bitterness they once carried.

           His lips twitched into a smile. “You always had a choice,” he murmured, turning to leave. But before he stepped out, he glanced back at you one last time. “You’ll understand that soon enough.”

           With that, the door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the cabin once again. This time, however, it felt different. This time, the weight of the situation pressed down on you, but instead of fighting it... you let it settle over you like the setting sun on the horizon.

           Because in your heart, you knew that no matter how much you resisted, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise - you were already his.

                             ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow across the deck of the ship. The ocean was calm, the gentle lapping of waves against the hull creating a soothing rhythm that filled the air. You stood at the helm, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and anxiety as Captain Hotchner approached, his silhouette framed by the stars. He had asked you to meet him there as soon as the rest of the crew went to sleep. It was his turn to take the night shift tonight.

           “Tonight, we’re going to learn how to navigate by the stars,” he said, his voice smooth and confident, yet somehow soothing in the stillness of the night.

           “Navigate?” you echoed, looking up at him. The deep blue color of the sea shimmered under the moonlight, and the vast expanse of stars overhead made your head spin - but in a good way.

           He stepped closer, his presence both comforting and commanding. “Yes, it’s essential out here. Come here.”

           You took a hesitant step toward him, drawn by the warmth of his body. Your body stiffened as he wrapped his arm around you - but soon relaxed. He crouched down to your level as he pointed upward, his finger tracing the outline of a constellation. “This is the North Star. It’s your guide,” he explained, his voice low as if he were sharing a secret meant only for you.

           You squinted up at the stars, trying to find the North Star among the vastness. “How do you know which one it is?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of your hesitation.

           “It’s the brightest star in that direction,” he replied, you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Follow me.”

           Captain Hotchner moved with a fluid grace, guiding you as he pointed out more constellations, the big dipper, Cassiopeia, and so on, his finger dancing through the air. You found yourself captivated, not just by the stars but by the way he spoke with passion, his voice steady and filled with knowledge.

           “Each star tells a story,” he continued, gesturing toward a cluster that resembled a ship’s sails. “These stars will help you determine your course.”

           As he spoke, you couldn’t help but admire him - his hair tousled from the slumber he had just awoken from, the way his eyes glinted with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You felt a strange mix of admiration and something deeper, a connection that seemed to spark in the space between you.

           “Now, grab the helm,” he instructed, pulling you from your thoughts.

           With a deep breath, you stepped up to the wheel, placing your hands on the cool wood. Captain Hotchner stood behind you, close enough that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Keep her steady,” he said, his voice low and reassuring.

           You concentrated, focusing on the gentle movements of the waves and the stars above, trying to align everything as he had shown you. The ship swayed softly beneath your hands as the pull from the waves made you steer slightly off course, although you quickly aligned her back up. The sound of the water lapping against the sides created a tranquil atmosphere.

           “Good,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of approval. The praise made you feel good. “Now, look at the compass. That will help you find your direction.”

           As you navigated, you felt his presence envelop you, a heady mix of mentorship and intimacy that left you breathless. His hand brushed against your arm as he leaned over to adjust your grip, and you felt a warmth radiate through you, the boundaries of your situation blurring with every shared moment.

           “Feel the wind,” he instructed, his voice a soft command that pulled your attention back to the task at hand. “It can also tell you which way to go.”

           You turned your head slightly, the scent of the ocean mingling with his musky cologne and faint hint of rum, intoxicating and overwhelming. The ship felt alive beneath you, the moonlit water stretching endlessly before you.

           As you learned to navigate, Captain Hotchner explained the importance of trusting your instincts. “Out here, it’s not just about what you see; it’s about what you feel,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

           “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

           “There’s a rhythm to the sea,” he replied, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear. “You have to learn to listen.”

           He guided your hands on the wheel, showing you how to respond to the subtle shifts in the wind and water. As the minutes stretched into hours, and the morning sun started to rise, the connection between you deepened, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, feeling a strange sense of safety despite the uncertainty of how you had gotten there.

           “Now, plot a course for Scully when he wakes up to take over,” he instructed, pointing to the next destination on the map. The sunlight illuminated the parchment, and you felt drawn to it, wanting to understand the paths you would take.

           With his finger, Captain Hotchner traced a line across the map, explaining how to navigate from one point to another. His proximity, the warmth of his body brushing against yours, made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he commanded the space around you.

           “Why do you keep teaching me all this?” you asked suddenly, unable to contain your curiosity.

           He paused, glancing at you with a serious expression. “Because I see potential in you,” he said, his voice earnest. “You’re stronger than you think.”

           You met his gaze, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “And what if I don’t want to be here?”

           His expression softened, but there was an underlying resolve in his eyes. “That we’ll figure it out once we're back at the mainland. You don’t have to stay if you truly don’t want to.”

           His words resonated deep within you, the weight of them heavy with meaning. You realized then that despite everything, despite his earlier words and mysterious ways, he wanted you to find your path, even if it meant leaving him behind.

           As the darkness evaporated completely, you found solace in the rhythm of the waves and the warmth of his presence beside you. The stars that had twinkled overhead now gave room for the clouds, each one a silent witness to your growing connection - a bond forged in the depths of the sea and the mysteries of the night.

           And in that moment, you accepted your fate, not with resignation, but with a tentative hope that perhaps, in navigating these uncharted waters together, you would find a way to reclaim a piece of yourself.

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           As the moon began its ascend, the horizon slowly darkening with the first hints of night, casting a soft glow over the ship. The calm waters were a deceptive facade, and you sensed a change in the air. The closer you got to your destination, the more you noticed the captain's demeanor shift.

           He stood at the helm, eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon, a tension palpable in his stance. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing beneath the surface, a storm of emotions that had nothing to do with the weather.

           “Hotch?” you called, stepping closer to him. “Is everything okay?”

           He turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Just keep an eye out for land,” he said, his voice clipped. The warmth that had lingered between you during the navigation lesson had vanished, replaced by a cold seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine.

           As you stood beside him, the anticipation of what lay ahead settled heavily in your stomach. It was your first plundering, and the thrill mixed with fear was almost intoxicating. Yet, you could see the turmoil in Captain Hotchner's eyes, a flicker of concern that made you question everything you thought you knew about him.

           “Are you sure you want me there?” you asked hesitantly, biting your lip. “I mean, it’s going to be…”

           “Brutal,” he finished, the word hanging in the air like a heavy fog. He turned fully to face you, the intensity in his gaze both captivating and unnerving. “I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

           Your heart sank at his words, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment. “I can handle it. I’ve been through tough situations before,” you insisted, trying to muster some semblance of confidence.

           He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t like anything you’ve faced before. It’s one thing to learn navigation; it’s another to watch lives being taken.”

           “I need to know what I’m getting into,” you pressed, stepping closer, your voice low. “You can’t keep me sheltered forever. How do you expect me to make a choice?”

           The captain's eyes softened momentarily, but the tension returned as he glanced back at the horizon. “You think you want to see this, but trust me, once you do, you can’t unsee it. You can never return to the calm life you used to live.” His voice was low, filled with a sincerity that tugged at your heart.

           As the ship glided over the water, you watched the way his shoulders tightened and his hands clenched around the wheel. It was clear he was torn between wanting to protect you and letting you tag along, knowing that you deserved to make your own choices.

           “Isn’t that the life we’ve chosen? To be part of this?” you asked, trying to pierce through the protective wall he had erected around himself. “To experience everything, the good and the bad?”

           He turned to you then, his eyes boring into yours, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within them. “I can’t just leave you behind, not when you mean something to me. But I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt either.”

           His words hung in the air, and you felt a warmth flush through you, surprising and thrilling all at once. “You don’t have to worry about me,” you said, determination hardening your voice. “I can prove myself.”

           Captain Hotchner regarded you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Fine. But you stay close to me. No matter what happens, you follow my lead and don't stray off course.”

           Relief washed over you, and you felt a surge of determination. “I will,” you promised, knowing that this was your chance to show him that you were more than just a pretty face.

           The outlines of land began to emerge on the horizon. Captain Hotchner's posture shifted, his focus sharpening as he prepared the crew for what lay ahead. You could feel the palpable tension in the air as excitement mixed with apprehension among the crew members.

           “Gather round!” He commanded, his voice ringing out, firm and authoritative. “We’re nearing our target. Keep your wits about you. No matter what happens, remember our plan.”

           You stood at his side, your heart pounding in your chest as you took in the sight of the distant shoreline. The anticipation of the unknown filled you with adrenaline, and you felt your resolve strengthening.

           As the ship approached the shore, you caught glimpses of the settlement - a small harbor bustling with activity, unaware of the storm that was about to descend upon it. The excitement among the crew grew, shouts of encouragement and camaraderie ringing out in the crisp air. Yet, you noticed Captain Hotchner's expression darkening, his jaw set tight as he stared at the land ahead.

           “Captain?” you asked quietly, concern creeping into your voice. “Are you okay?”

           He glanced at you, the weight of his worry evident. “Just remember what I said,” he replied, the edge of urgency creeping back into his tone. “Stick close. Do not get separated from me.”

           With a nod, you swallowed your fear, determination solidifying your resolve. You were ready to face whatever came next, and as the ship anchored near the shore, you felt the thrill of the unknown course through you. Captain Hotchner may have been concerned - concerned enough to give you a dagger without proper training, but you were ready to prove your strength - not just to him, but to yourself.

           As the crew prepared to disembark, Captain Hotchner's gaze locked onto yours, a silent communication passing between you.

           With the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the captain by your side, you stepped toward the unknown.

                           ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The ship’s hull creaked gently against the waves as you and the crew gathered at the edge, readying to disembark. A mix of anticipation and anxiety filled the air, creating a charged atmosphere among the men. Captain Hotchner stood at the forefront, his expression sharp and serious as he glanced back at you, ensuring you were close at hand. The tension hung heavy in the salty breeze.

           “Remember what I said,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “Follow my lead, and stay out of trouble.”

           You nodded, determination surging within you. You had made it this far; there was no turning back now. The sound of swords being unsheathed and the chatter of excitement reverberated through the crew, setting your heart racing.

           As the boat hit the dock, the crew leapt off, landing with a soft thud on the cobblestone. You followed closely behind the captain, who took the lead with an ease that was both reassuring and intimidating. The bustling settlement before you was alive with the sounds of daily life - merchants hawking their goods, fishermen repairing nets, and children playing in the streets. It was unaware of the looming darkness of what was about to unfold.

           “Stay close,” Captain Hotchner repeated, his eyes scanning the scene like a hawk. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his hand twitched near the hilt of his sword, ready for anything.

           As you moved deeper into the settlement, the crew fanned out, each member slipping into the chaos of the marketplace, eyes sharp for potential plunder. Hotch led you to a narrow alleyway, away from prying eyes. “We’ll take them by surprise,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at you. “You’ll want to stay behind me.”

           Your pulse raced as you nodded, adrenaline flooding your veins. You watched as he signaled to the crew, and the air shifted, becoming thick with anticipation.

           In an instant, a loud crash erupted from the other end of the alley, the sound of swords clashing and shouts echoing off the walls. Your heart raced as Captain Hotchner surged forward, pulling you with him. The scene exploded into chaos; you caught glimpses of the crew engaging with startled townsfolk, swords drawn and commands shouted, the atmosphere charged with urgency.

           “Now!” The captain barked, and without thinking, you followed, your feet moving of their own accord as you rushed into the fray, adrenaline flooding your senses.

           You were surprised by the immediate chaos - people were scrambling, their screams mingling with the sound of clashing steel. Captain Hotchner fought with a precise brutality, each movement calculated and fluid, his strength commanding the attention of everyone around him. You tried to keep up, your heart racing as you glanced around, taking in the frantic scene.

           “Stay behind me!” He shouted again, slicing through an attacker with deft precision, his eyes fierce as they met yours for a brief moment, no reaction to the blood pouring from the wound as he retracted his sword and watched the man fall to the ground.

           You complied, but a part of you ached to contribute more, to prove yourself. You wished you had a sword. You moved to the side, narrowly avoiding a flurry of limbs and chaos. In the distance, you saw a merchant attempting to flee, clutching a leather bag filled with valuables. Instinct - that you didn't know where came from - kicked in, and you made a snap decision.

           With a quick glance at Captain Hotchner, who was engaged in a fierce struggle, you dashed toward the merchant, your heart pounding. You lunged for the bag, grabbing it just as he turned, shock and fear etched across his face.

           “Stop!” he yelled, but your instincts propelled you forward, the thrill of the moment consuming you. You turned to run, adrenaline pushing you faster than you ever thought possible.

           But before you could escape, a hand gripped your arm, pulling you back. You gasped, recognizing Hotch’s voice as he growled, “What are you doing?”

           The world around you seemed to freeze for a heartbeat, your heart racing as you stared into his stormy eyes. “I - I thought I could help,” you stammered, breathless from both fear and exhilaration.

           “Help?” he snapped, shaking his head in frustration. “You need to be careful! You can’t just run off like that! He could've had a revolver.”

           His grip softened slightly, and in that moment, you could see the worry etched across his features. “I didn’t want you getting hurt,” he said, quieter now, urgency still lacing his tone.

           Before you could respond, the sounds of battle erupted around you, the tide of chaos swaying back and forth as the crew pressed forward. Captain Hotchner glanced back at the fray, assessing the situation, his focus sharpening. “Stay close to me,” he commanded again, and you nodded, heart racing as you fell back into step beside him. "This time I mean it!"

           As you moved through the streets, it became clear that the plundering was brutal. Crew members shouted orders and taunts, and the weight of the violence around you pressed down like a heavy fog. You witnessed townsfolk being restrained, their protests muffled, and the fear in their eyes struck a chord deep within you as you watched the crew take a little more than material things.

           Captain Hotchner's gaze flicked back to you frequently, assessing your reaction to the chaos. You could see the conflict in his expression, the internal battle raging beneath the surface. He fought fiercely, but you sensed he was also trying to shield you from the worst of it.

           “Remember, this is survival,” he reminded you, his voice steady but low. “They won’t think twice about defending themselves.”

           As the crew moved forward, your heart sank at the sight of a young boy cowering in the corner, clutching a wooden toy. Something snapped within you, the innocence of the scene starkly juxtaposed against the brutality around it.

           “Hotch, we can’t-” you began, but he shook his head, his expression hardening.

           “It’s too late,” he said, urgency building. “We have to keep moving.”

           You watched helplessly as the crew continued to gather their loot, your heart aching at the destruction of lives and homes. Fires burning and blood pooling. This wasn’t the adventure you had imagined; it was a nightmare, a side of pirate life you hadn’t been prepared for.

           As the battle raged on, you felt the weight of your decisions crushing down on you. You thought you wanted to prove yourself, but now all you wanted was to escape the chaos. You turned back to Hotch, desperation creeping into your voice. “We need to stop this.”

           He glanced at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “We can’t stop now. If we leave without what we came for, they’ll be ready for us next time. We’re pirates; this is how it works.”

           The truth of his words struck hard, and you nodded, heart heavy with the burden of your choices. You stayed by his side, but as the plundering continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness of this life was creeping into your soul.

           With each passing moment, you saw the line between right and wrong blurring, and you realized you were far deeper into this life than you ever expected. As the chaos continued around you, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

                            ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The air on the ship was electric with excitement and chaos as the crew celebrated their successful plundering. Laughter and shouts echoed off the wooden planks, the scent of salt and rum mingling in the air as bottles were uncorked and food was hastily laid out. The harmony among the crew members was palpable, their spirits lifted by the thrill of the day’s chaos and victory.

           You stood at the edge of the deck, the festivity swirling around you like a storm. As you watched the crew dance and drink, a knot of unease settled in your stomach. Despite the cheers and laughter, the images of the plundering lingered in your mind - the fear in the eyes of the townsfolk, the innocence of the boy you’d tried to protect. The celebration felt hollow, a facade to mask the darker reality of piracy.

           “Y/N!” one of the crew called out, waving a half-empty bottle of rum in your direction. “Come join us! You’ve earned it!”

           You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Just as you were about to decline, Captain Hotchner's voice sliced through the noise, sharp and commanding. “Y/N, come to my cabin.”

           Your heart sank as you turned to face him. His expression was serious, an intensity in his eyes that made your stomach flip. The crew’s laughter faded into the background as he stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from the charming pirate you had begun to know to the authoritative captain you had initially encountered.

           “Now!” he commanded, voice low but firm, “we need to talk.”

           Before you could respond, he took your arm and led you away from the raucous celebration, the sounds of the crew fading into a distant hum. You followed him to his cabin, the door creaking ominously as he pushed it open. The space was dimly lit, a flickering lantern casting shadows on the wooden walls, and it felt suddenly suffocating.

           As the door shut behind you, the captain turned to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. “What were you thinking out there?” His voice was calm, but the intensity in his gaze told you he was anything but relaxed.

           “I was trying to help!” you protested, the words spilling out before you could think better of them. “I couldn’t just stand by while that merchant was getting away. I wanted to do something!”

           Captain Hotchner's expression softened for a brief moment, but it quickly hardened again. “Help? You put yourself in danger. Do you have any idea how reckless that was?” His voice rose slightly, frustration seeping through.

           You opened your mouth to argue, but the weight of his words hit you like a cold wave. The truth was, you hadn’t thought it through. The adrenaline of the moment had blinded you to the risks. “I just - I thought I could make a difference,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.

           He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily as he turned away to stare out the small porthole. “This isn’t a game. This life is brutal, and I won’t have you caught in the crossfire. You’re not ready for what we do out there. Maybe you should just stay back on the ship next time?” He raised a brow, waiting for your response

           The disappointment in his voice stung more than you expected. “I can handle myself,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

           He turned back to you, his expression conflicted. “You think so? You think you can just jump in and help without understanding the consequences?”

           A silence fell between you, thick and uncomfortable. You felt the weight of your actions pressing down on you, the fear and chaos of the day crashing over you like a wave. “I’m trying to learn,” you finally said, looking him in the eye, you felt ashamed, only wanting to prove yourself to him. “But I want to be a part of this crew, Hotch. I want to prove myself to you.”

           Captain Hotchner studied you for a long moment. “It’s not just about proving yourself. It’s about survival, both for you and for the crew. If you’re not careful, you could get yourself killed.”

           You felt a spark of defiance. “I can take care of myself. I just want you to trust me!”

           His gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, the pirate captain seemed to fade away, revealing the man you’d begun to connect with. “Trust is earned, not given,” he replied, his voice more gentle now. “And you have to be patient. It takes time to understand this life and the choices we make.”

           You nodded, your heart aching with the weight of his words. “I know that now. I just… I wanted to help you.”

           He stepped closer, his demeanor shifting as he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I appreciate your spirit. But you need to learn to pick your battles. Next time, trust me to lead. I know what I'm doing.”

           You met his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions swirling between you - fear, admiration, and something deeper. “I will,” you promised, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

           With a sigh, he stepped back, the tension easing slightly. “Good. Now, let’s go rejoin the crew. They’ll be wondering where we’ve gone.”

           As he turned to leave, you felt a flicker of warmth in your chest. Maybe this life wasn’t as bleak as it seemed, not if you had the captain to guide you. You followed him back to the deck, the sounds of celebration filling the air once more, a mix of laughter and music that felt almost comforting now.

           As you stepped back into the chaos, the crew erupted in cheers, raising their bottles in salute as you and Hotch made your way to the makeshift feast. The stress of the scolding faded into the background, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of friendship wash over you as you mingled with the rest of the crew.

           You took your place among the pirates, the day’s events still heavy in your mind but lightened by the shared joy around you. As the rum flowed and stories were exchanged, you caught Captain Hotchner watching you from a distance, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

           You realized that amidst the chaos of piracy, perhaps you had found a place where you could belong, even if the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty. You raised your own mug of rum, joining the crew in their cheers, and for the first time since you’d boarded the ship, you felt a flicker of hope amidst the darkness.

                          ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           Weeks passed since your first plundering, each day blending into the next as you settled into life aboard the ship. Under Captain Hotcher's careful guidance, you began to learn the ropes - both literally and figuratively. Navigating the ship, understanding the intricacies of sailing, and grasping the art of plundering were no longer foreign concepts; they were becoming second nature to you.

           The crew’s initial skepticism had faded and was replaced by grudging respect as they witnessed your transformation. You no longer flinched at the sight of a dagger or the sound of chaos that followed a successful raid. Instead, you embraced the thrill, your heart racing in sync with the beat of the crew’s revelry.

           During plundering missions, you stood shoulder to shoulder with Hotch, no longer a mere bystander but an active participant. You learned to wield a cutlass with a surprising degree of skill, and your instincts sharpened with every encounter. Captain Hotchner would often watch you with a mixture of pride and admiration as you navigated the chaos, striking fear into the hearts of those who crossed your path.

           On one particularly moonlit night, the ship sailed toward a small coastal village rumored to hold a wealth of riches. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged current, electrifying every member of the crew. As the ship anchored just offshore, you gathered with the crew.

           “Tonight, we show them the true meaning of fear,” the captain declared, his voice commanding. The crew cheered in response, and you felt a thrill course through your veins at his words. You were no longer just the captain's captive; you were becoming a pirate in your own right.

           As the rowboats slid through the calm water, the darkness enveloped you, broken only by the glimmering stars above. You sat across from Hotch, the familiar tension between you sparking like static. The rhythmic sound of the oars hitting the water steadied your heartbeat as you prepared yourself for what was to come.

           The village came into view, its thatched roofs and flickering lanterns casting a warm glow that seemed to mock the impending chaos. “Remember,” he whispered, leaning closer so only you could hear, “we strike fast, we strike hard. Don’t hesitate. You kill or be killed.”

           “I won’t,” you replied, determination burning in your chest. You could feel the cutlass at your side, a reminder of how far you’d come from the tiny dagger.

           Once ashore, the crew scattered into the shadows, each member moving with practiced precision. Captain Hotchner led the way, and you followed closely, adrenaline coursing through your veins. As you approached the first house, the faint sound of laughter and music drifted out from within, oblivious to the storm about to be unleashed.

           With a nod from Hotch, you surged forward, bursting through the door with the crew at your back. The revelry inside came to a screeching halt, eyes widening in fear as the sight of armed pirates invaded their celebration.

           “Get what you can! Make it quick!” Captain Hotchner barked, his voice echoing through the room. The crew sprang into action, chaos erupting as they ransacked the place. You moved with purpose, your heart racing, snatching up valuables and shoving them into your bag with surprising efficiency.

           The fear on the villagers' faces no longer haunted you; instead, it fueled a fire within. You could see the respect in the eyes of your crew as you maneuvered through the chaos, your instincts guiding you as you followed the captain's lead.

           As the plundering continued, you found yourself confronting a group of villagers who attempted to fight back. They were desperate, eyes wild with fear and determination. For a fleeting moment, doubt crept into your mind was this what you truly wanted?

           But then you caught sight of Hotch, his fierce presence commanding the room as he skillfully dispatched any who dared to challenge him. The thought of failing him ignited a fierce determination in your heart.

           With a battle cry, you lunged forward, the cutlass slicing through the air as you took down one of the villagers. The rush of adrenaline surged through you - he was your first - a heady mixture of fear and exhilaration. As the fight unfolded, you fought with a newfound ferocity, striking alongside the crew, your name echoing through the streets.

           When the raid came to a close, the crew gathered back at the ship, laden with treasures and stories of glory. You stood among them, panting from the exertion, a wide grin plastered across your face.

           Hotch approached you, his expression a mix of pride and approval. “You handled yourself well tonight,” he said, a glimmer of admiration shining in his eyes.

           “Thanks, Captain,” you replied, your heart swelling at his praise. “I couldn’t have done it without your training.”

           He smirked, the familiar glint of mischief in his gaze. “You’re becoming quite the pirate, I must say. The crew is starting to fear you as much as they do me. Perhaps I should grant you a little more authority around here.”

           You laughed, the sound bubbling up from within. “Maybe we should take over the seas together then.”

           Captain Hotchner's gaze turned serious, and he stepped closer. “You know this life isn’t without its dangers, right? There’s a fine line between fear and respect.”

           “I understand,” you replied, the weight of his words settling in your heart. “But I want to be a part of it, Hotch. I want to stand by your side.”

           His expression softened, and for a moment, the pirate façade slipped away, revealing the man you were beginning to care for deeply. “Then stay sharp. You’ve proven yourself tonight, but there’s always more to learn.”

           As the crew celebrated behind you, the warmth of his gaze lingered, igniting a spark of something more. You realized that in this world of chaos and piracy, you had found a place not only among the crew but also in Hotch’s heart.

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           As the ship sailed back towards mainland, the air was thick with anticipation. You stood at the bow, the salty breeze whipping through your hair as you watched the shoreline come into view. Each passing day had brought you closer to the crew and, unexpectedly, to Hotch. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a tension that hung in the air like a heavy fog. You were not planning on returning to your old life, although opportunity finally presented itself.

           You often caught him stealing glances in your direction, his expression a mix of admiration and something deeper - something unspoken - he feared what your choice would be. But you were both reluctant to acknowledge it, caught in the tangled web of your new lives as pirates. Each shared laugh and stolen moment made your heart race, but neither of you dared to voice what simmered beneath the surface.

           As the ship docked in the bustling port town, excitement crackled in the air. Merchants called out to passersby, and children chased each other along the docks, laughter ringing like music. But amidst the joyful chaos, something else caught your eye. You spotted wanted posters plastered on the walls, fluttering slightly in the breeze.

           Your heart sank as you approached one of them, your breath hitching in your throat. The top half featured a striking image of Hotch, the sharp lines of his jaw and the fierce determination in his eyes captured perfectly. The poster detailed his crimes - a notorious pirate captain feared and respected on the seas. But it was the second poster, the one hanging just below it, that sent shockwaves through you.

           The drawing depicted you, an artistic rendering that portrayed your fierce spirit and defiance. The bold letters below read, “WANTED: The Queen of pirates. Infamous for her ruthlessness and trickery. Reward: 500 gold pieces.”

           “Pirate Queen?” you whispered, your heart racing. Disbelief washed over you. Was this really what people thought of you. You wondered what your dad would think if he knew. You were a part of this world now - dangerous and exhilarating - your old life was miles away and there was no point in trying to return to it now.

           Captain Hotchner joined you, his gaze drawn to the posters. He chuckled softly, an amused glint in his eyes. “Looks like you’ve made quite the name for yourself.”

           “Yeah, well… I didn’t ask for it,” you said, a half-smile creeping onto your lips. “I just wanted to me and be by your side.”

           The moment hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken feelings. The captain turned to face you fully, his expression serious. “And you’ve proven yourself more than capable. You’re as feared as I am now, and that’s no small feat.”

           You swallowed hard, the weight of his words making your heart race. “Do you think I’m ready for this life, Captain?”

           “More than ready,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “You’ve shown incredible strength and adaptability. But it’s not just about being a pirate; it’s about what comes next.”

           “What do you mean?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

           He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly. “You have to be careful. With this notoriety comes danger. People will come after you, and not just for the bounty. They’ll want to take what’s yours.” You knew what he was refering to, but didn't mentioned it further.

           “I can handle myself, Hotch,” you insisted, a fire igniting within you. “I’ve learned from the best.”

           His lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes betrayed a hint of concern. “I know you can. But there are still things that can hurt you - more than just blades and guns.”

           As the crowd around you swelled, a wave of excitement and apprehension surged through you. “What if they don’t want me back? What if they only see the bounty?” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the commotion.

           Captain Hotchner's expression softened, and he stepped closer, his presence radiating warmth. “You’re not just a pirate to me. You’re - ” He paused, searching your eyes as if weighing his words carefully. “You’re more than that. You’ve earned your place among us. You belong here.”

           Before you could respond, a loud cheer erupted from the crew, drawing both your attention and your momentary connection to a close. They were celebrating the plunder, reveling in the spoils of victory. Captain Hotchner rolled his eyes at them, plundering the mainland was not part of the plan.

           As you returned to the ship, your thoughts kept drifting back to Hotch. The way he looked at you, the intensity of his gaze, made your heart race. You knew he felt something for you, too. What would happen when the thrill of the chase subsided? What would it mean to fall in love with a pirate captain?

           As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, you caught Hotch’s eye across the deck. He raised his glass toward you, a silent acknowledgment that felt heavy with meaning. You raised your own glass in return, a flicker of hope igniting within you.

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           With each passing day, you found your place among the crew, earning their respect and admiration as you carved out your identity as a pirate. Yet, no matter how fierce you became, Hotch’s teasing nickname for you remained: the Pirate Queen.

           “You know,” he’d say, leaning against the railing, a smirk on his lips, “I think you should start addressing me as your royal captain from now on. You can’t just go around being the Pirate Queen without showing proper respect to your pirate king.”

           You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him. “King? Is that what you think you are? Hardly seems fitting for a man who wears so much leather and jewellery and has a sword by his side wherever he goes.”

           “Oh, I’ll show you just how kingly I can be,” he’d respond, laughter dancing in his deep voice, before effortlessly dodging your playful attempts to hit him.

           The banter had become a comforting routine, one that brought you closer to him even as it reminded you of the reality of your situation. But as the days turned into weeks, the lighthearted teasing took on a new depth. You began to wonder if the title of “Pirate Queen” might hold more weight than just a playful jab.

           One night, as the crew settled around a fire on the beach after a successful raid, you watched the captain from across the flames. He was animatedly recounting tales of his past exploits - most of them before any of the men in his current crew knew him - his charisma drawing everyone in. Your heart swelled with affection as you admired him - the way he commanded attention, the strength he exuded, and the genuine care he showed for his crew.

           It was then that you caught his eye. His gaze held yours for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and in that moment, the atmosphere shifted. The laughter around you faded into a dull hum, and the crackling fire was the only sound that echoed in the silence between you.           

           “Hey, Pirate Queen,” he called out, breaking the spell, his tone teasing but laced with sincerity. “You’re not going to let me do all the talking, are you? A good queen needs to share her wisdom, after all.”

           You stood, brushing sand off your clothes as you moved closer to the fire. “Well, my wisdom is to never trust a captain who thinks he’s a king.”

           The captain chuckled, a warm, rich sound that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe you should consider trusting him a little more, then.”

           The banter continued, but the playful tone shifted slightly, and you could sense a change in the air. A few days later, as you stood at the helm, navigating the ship under the stars, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Hotch joined you, his presence steadying, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the quiet of the night.

           “I know I joke about you being the Pirate Queen,” he began, leaning against the railing beside you, the moonlight reflecting off the water and illuminating his sharp features. “But it’s not just a title to me.”

           Your heart raced at his seriousness, and you turned to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”

           He hesitated, and the weight of his words hung in the air. “You’ve become more than just a crewmate. You’ve proven yourself time and time again, and you’ve earned the respect of everyone on this ship. But you’ve also shown me a side of you that’s fierce, courageous, and unapologetically yourself.”

           You felt your cheeks heat, and you looked away, overwhelmed. “Hotch…”

           “I’m serious,” he continued, his tone earnest. “You’re more than just a pirate. You’re my partner, and I want you to be my Pirate Queen - officially. I’m not asking for a title, but for you to stand by my side, not just as a member of the crew, but as someone I care about.”

           Your breath caught in your throat, surprise mingling with joy. “You really mean that?”

           He stepped closer, the space between you charged with unspoken feelings. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. You’re not just another pirate to me, and I don’t want you to ever feel that way.”

           “I’ve never felt like just another pirate,” you admitted, your heart racing as his words settled over you. “But being your Pirate Queen? That’s a lot to take in.”

           “Take your time,” he said softly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

           As the ship rocked gently beneath you, you felt the weight of the world slip away. You were no longer just a kidnapped girl - no longer just a pirate seeking adventure. You were becoming something more, something powerful, and the man beside you made you feel like you could conquer anything.

           Hotch’s hand brushed against yours, a tentative gesture filled with promise.

           “Then I guess I’ll have to live up to that title,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “Just remember, I won’t be an easy queen to rule.”

           Captain Hotchner chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

                              ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

           The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the ship as the crew bustled about in excited anticipation. After weeks of plundering and celebrating, the time had finally come to solidify your bond with Captain Hotchner in a way that was both thrilling and unconventional - a pirate wedding. The ship had never seen such a spectacle, and the crew was eager to make it memorable.

           Brightly colored flags fluttered from the mast, and makeshift decorations adorned the deck. Lanterns were hung with care, and the air was filled with the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread, mingling with the salty breeze. The crew had spent the morning preparing, and the excitement was palpable as they exchanged stories and laughter of Captain Hotchner and the Pirate Queen, anticipating the upcoming ceremony.

           As you stood at the helm, taking in the scene, a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. It felt surreal to be preparing for a wedding on the open sea, surrounded by pirates. But more than that, it was the thought of becoming Captain Hotchner's wife - of finally acknowledging the love that had blossomed amidst the chaos and adventure - that set your heart racing.

           “Are you ready, my Pirate Queen?” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see him standing behind you, clad in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, his signature leather jacket hanging open to reveal a glimpse of his toned physique. He looked dashing, a sharp difference to the rugged lifestyle of a pirate, yet he still exuded that dangerous charm that had drawn you to him in the first place.

           You smiled, trying to contain the flurry of emotions swirling inside you. “I am, but I can’t help feeling a bit nervous.”

           “Don’t be,” he said, stepping closer. “We’re surrounded by our crew, and they wouldn’t want anything more than to see us happy. Plus, if things go awry, we can always plunder the wedding gifts and elope somewhere.” He winked.

           You chuckled, grateful for his ability to lighten the mood. “You always know how to make me laugh, Captain.”

           As the hour drew near, the crew gathered on deck, their faces lit with excitement. A makeshift altar had been constructed from driftwood and adorned with flowers collected from distant shores. Scully, stood at the front, a grin splitting his face as he prepared to officiate the ceremony.

           “Gather ‘round, ye scallywags!” Scully called, his voice booming over the sounds of the waves. “Today, we celebrate the union of Captain Hotchner and his Pirate Queen! It be a rare occasion for a pirate to tie the knot, so let’s make it a day to remember!”

           The crew erupted into cheers and laughter, and you took a deep breath, glancing at Hotch. His expression was serious, but there was a glimmer of joy in his eyes.

           “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, through storms and calm seas, to share in all plunders and treasures?” Scully asked, his tone both lighthearted and sincere.

           “I do,” Hotch said, his voice steady and resolute, and you felt your heart swell with affection.

           “And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to face the fiercest foes together and cherish the spoils of life?” Scully now turned to you, and the crew leaned in, eager to hear your response.

           “I do,” you replied, your voice ringing clear as you gazed into Captain Hotchner's eyes.

           As Scully continued with the ceremony, you exchanged vows that were filled with promises of loyalty and adventure. You spoke of standing together through every tempest and sharing both the spoils of victory and the burdens of defeat.

           When it came time to exchange rings, Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple, weathered band. It wasn’t the traditional diamond, but it was perfect - crafted from the same metal as the ship itself, signifying your bond with the sea and each other.

           With a gentle touch, he slid the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “With this ring, I promise to cherish you, to protect you, and to always navigate the stormy seas together.”

           You smiled through misty eyes as you placed a matching band on his finger. “With this ring, I promise to stand by you, to share in your adventures, and to always be your Pirate Queen.” You winked at him as you mentioned the nickname

           “By the power vested in me by the seas and the crew of this ship, I now pronounce you Captain and Captain Pirate Queen! Ye may kiss your bride!”

           The crew erupted into cheers and whistles as Captain Hotchner stepped forward, his hands cradling your face. The kiss was soft but filled with force and passion as he pressed his lips to yours, sealing your vows in front of your motley crew.

           When you finally pulled away, laughter and applause surrounded you. You were married - partners in crime, in life, and now, officially in love.

           As the celebration kicked into high gear, with songs sung and rum shared, you felt a sense of belonging envelop you like the warm sun setting on the horizon. You were not just a pirate; you were Captain Hotchner’s Pirate Queen, and together, you were ready to face whatever adventures the sea would throw your way.

           As the night wore on and the stars twinkled overhead, you danced together on the deck, the laughter of your crew echoing around you. With Hotch holding you close, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of plundering and love - together, forever bound by the sea.

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

Figure It Out - F!Reader x Kaedehara Kazuha

Featured Column - Genshin Impact

Kazuha can’t pinpoint when he started looking at Reader differently. But now, the thought of turning away feels impossible.

✒️ Word Count: 1527

He knew her sharp wit, the way she spoke without hesitation, the way her voice cut through the din of the Alcor’s crew like the clean slice of a blade. He knew how she handled herself in a fight—practical, efficient, with no wasted movement. He knew she preferred her tea bitter, that she had a habit of rolling her sleeves up to her elbows even in the dead of winter, and that she was always the first to volunteer for the worst jobs just to shut the others up.

But somewhere along the way, something had shifted.

Kazuha couldn’t pinpoint when it had started.

Only that now, he couldn’t stop noticing.

It wasn’t an extraordinary day. The Alcor was docked in Liyue Harbor, the crew unloading cargo while Beidou argued with a merchant about their latest trade. It was the usual chaos.

[Name] was perched on a wooden crate, arms crossed, watching the ordeal with something between amusement and exasperation. “Five minutes before she threatens to throw him overboard,” she muttered.

Kazuha, leaning against the mast beside her, let out a quiet chuckle. “You underestimate her patience.”

[Name] snorted. “I’ve seen her drag people out of a tavern by their collars for less.”

He hummed in agreement, eyes drifting to the harbor beyond, where the afternoon sun glowed against the waves. The wind carried the scent of the sea, warm and salty.

And then, without thinking, he glanced back at her.

She was still watching Beidou, but the light caught in her hair, turning the strands gold at the edges. Her profile was relaxed, sharp in places where the sun cast shadows, soft in others where it didn’t.

She wasn’t doing anything. Just existing.

And yet, for some reason, Kazuha felt his breath catch.

His mind stumbled over itself, trying to place the feeling, but it was frustratingly out of reach��like trying to catch mist in his hands.

It was nothing new, her being here, her talking to him. But something about this moment lodged itself deep in his chest, unfamiliar and warm.

When had that started happening?

Kazuha blinked, looking away as if she might somehow notice what had just unraveled inside him.

But of course, she didn’t. She just kept talking.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you to your cloud-watching or whatever it is you do,” she said, stretching her arms overhead before hopping off the crate. “I’ve got errands to run before we set sail again.”

Kazuha cleared his throat lightly, forcing himself to focus. “Do you need company?”

[Name] shot him a glance, amused. “You volunteering?”

He hesitated. He wasn’t sure why.

But then, as if his body had decided before his mind could catch up, he nodded.

[Name] huffed a quiet laugh. “Suit yourself.”

Kazuha had followed [Name] into town before. This wasn’t new.

And yet, somehow, this time felt different.

He walked beside her as they navigated the busy streets of Liyue Harbor, the sea breeze mixing with the scent of fresh-baked pastries and spices from merchant stalls. The sounds of bargaining and laughter filled the air, familiar and constant.

[Name] moved through the marketplace with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before, haggling down prices with little effort. Kazuha watched as she bartered with a fishmonger, her voice level, arms crossed, entirely unimpressed.

“That’s robbery,” she scoffed, jerking a thumb toward the stall beside them. “He’s selling the same cut for six mora less.”

The vendor, a stout man with calloused hands, let out a good-natured chuckle. “Aye, but mine’s fresher.”

[Name] arched a brow. “And yet, somehow, it’s still overpriced.”

Kazuha fought back a smile as the back-and-forth continued, watching the way her expression shifted so naturally—sharp, confident, unwavering. She didn’t demand attention, she commanded it.

And yet, there was something about her that had always been effortless.

He didn’t know why he had never thought about it before.

Why now was different.

The fishmonger finally sighed, waving a hand. “Fine, fine. I’ll take four mora off, but that’s my final offer.”

[Name] clicked her tongue. “Five.”

The man groaned. “Woman, you drive a harder bargain than Beidou.”

[Name] smirked. “You should see me when I’m actually trying.”

The deal was struck. She handed over the mora and turned to Kazuha, lifting the wrapped fish slightly. “See? You just have to know how to talk to people.”

Kazuha tilted his head, amused. “I’ve always found silence to be just as effective.”

[Name] clicked her tongue, adjusting the bag on her hip as they kept walking. “Yeah, well, I don’t have the luxury of improving poetry and hoping people feel like giving me a discount.”

Kazuha chuckled, watching as she scanned the next stall, already setting her sights on a vendor selling spices.

And then, without thinking, he asked, “Do you do this every time we dock here?”

[Name] shrugged. “Someone has to.”

He considered that for a moment. “And if you didn’t?”

She blinked, giving him a sidelong glance. “What?”

“If you weren’t here. If you didn’t come to this market, argue over fish prices, talk merchants into lowering their costs. What would you be doing instead?”

[Name] frowned, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “This is just… what I do.”

Something about that answer made something settle in Kazuha’s chest.

Because he understood it.

That constant motion. That feeling of always having something to do, because stopping—because thinking too hard about what came after—wasn’t something either of them allowed themselves to do.

And suddenly, Kazuha wasn’t sure if he had followed her out of curiosity or if he had followed her because, in some small way, she was the only thing that made sense to him right now.

[Name] gave him a look. “What’s with you today?”

Kazuha exhaled, gaze flickering down toward the cobblestone path before meeting hers again.

“I suppose I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been watching you.”

[Name] blinked. “That’s not creepy at all.”

Kazuha laughed, shaking his head. “I meant… I never noticed the way you move through these moments. How easily you fit into the flow of things.”

[Name] stared at him for a second longer before rolling her eyes. “Alright, poet.” She waved a dismissive hand. “If you’re just gonna get weird about it, you can carry the fish.”

She shoved the wrapped package into his hands before he could respond, already walking ahead.

Kazuha stared down at the bundle in his hands, lips quirking in amusement.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected her to say. Maybe something sharp, something deflective—something that would make it easier to ignore the way his thoughts had shifted lately.

But [Name] had always had a way of cutting through things, even when she didn’t mean to.

So instead of pushing, instead of trying to make sense of whatever this was, Kazuha simply adjusted his grip on the fish and followed after her.

They moved through the marketplace with ease, weaving through clusters of vendors and shoppers. [Name] didn’t slow her stride for him, but he never had trouble keeping up.

She had always walked like this—with purpose, like she belonged to every place she set foot in.

And Kazuha, for reasons he didn’t quite understand yet, couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

They finished the rest of the shopping without incident, though Kazuha ended up carrying most of it. Not because [Name] asked—she never asked—but because he kept taking things from her hands without a word, and she never fought him on it.

By the time they returned to the Alcor, the sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, streaks of gold and orange bleeding into the sky.

[Name] dumped her satchel onto a crate near the ship’s entrance, rolling her shoulders with a satisfied sigh. “Not bad. No outrageous prices, no fights, no getting chased out of stalls.”

Kazuha arched a brow. “Should I be concerned that those are your standards for a successful trip?”

She smirked. “I live a very exciting life.”

Kazuha chuckled, setting the bundle of goods beside hers. He didn’t step away immediately, though.

Instead, he hesitated.

It was small—almost imperceptible. A pause that lasted only a fraction too long.

But [Name] caught it.

She turned her head slightly, fixing him with a look. “What?”

Kazuha exhaled, watching the way the wind pulled at the strands of her hair, the way the fading sunlight softened the edges of her sharp features.

He could lie. Say it was nothing.

But Kazuha had never been one to waste words.

“…I think I see you differently than I used to,” he admitted.

[Name] blinked, expression unreadable. “…What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Kazuha huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know yet.”

[Name] studied him for a long moment, as if waiting for him to say something else. But he didn’t—not because he didn’t want to, but because he was still trying to understand it himself.

And for once, she didn’t push.

She simply let out a slow breath, tilting her head slightly. “Figure it out, then.”

Kazuha smiled, small and knowing.

"Will do."

Editor's Note: Poetry is not my strong suit so yes, I avoided it in this, under the thought that his poet brain turns to mush around Reader.

[semisomnosres]

I recently re-watched this show and noticed these villains shown literally for 3 seconds, and then I come to my senses in front of an open canvas and a stylus in my hand

Here is my interpretation of ​​them and a couple of sketches, I'm not very good at coming up with names, but for the sake of decency I added them

(I noticed that only the girl's name was shown, if others also had it somewhere, correct me) In order:

Diego Ansford A bounty hunter and a mercenary for hire, perhaps he doesn't even disdain to organize a robbery of a bank that he just met along the way. Judging by his suit, he is not one of those who prefers to carry out tasks quietly, but rather kick down the door and throw grenades for fun, and after 10 minutes there is not a single intact place left inside the building.

W. KING (Willow) She was on Van Rook's client list, maybe she's a collector of ancient artifacts (perhaps it was to her that Van Rook wanted to sell those artifacts from the burial mounds) And now she's in a VERY tense relationship with Abbey (I don't know why, I just wanted to :) so much so that not a single event where these two are together goes by without at least one clump of torn hair.

Dr. Gelfand A bioengineer and neurosurgeon, almost completely fits the description of a "mad scientist" He didn't lose his arm and there is no tragic story about it, he replaced it with a prosthesis himself to make his work easier. He actively buys up cryptids for his experiments (I can imagine how angry Saturdays will be if they meet him. If he had his way, he would have already studied Zak's brain under a microscope.) And I don't know why, but while drawing a sketch with a shot knee, I came up with some kind of friendship between them (?) Where one, many years ago, foolishly gave the other a small amount of money and he hasn't returned it for 20 years. He doesn't even hope that the other will ever return it, but asking at every meeting "what happened to the money" and the other refusing to return it in any way has already become a tradition at the greeting level

Eitor Bergler He became a cyborg after an accident, maybe after a shipwreck. He terrorizes many sea routes and if a ship with valuable contents suddenly disappears, then with a high probability he is involved in it.

Yamamoto Kirahara We have already been shown intelligent cryptids (Argost and the Kumaris) and I got the idea to make him also an intelligent cryptid from the race of mole people. (at first I wanted to make the man a rat, but in the background I had "Inside Job" it talked about mole people) I see him as a businessman who got so rich that he acquired almost impenetrable immunity to the law and has great influence in the criminal world. He doesn't act like Argost, but more covertly

[panda-writes-kpop]

your home is the sea, my home is you ~ pirate! giselle

a/n: after almost seven months (good LORD), we have a third pirate aespa fic!!! and everyone cheered!!! this may be one of my favorite works of the year, there's something so tender and sincere in this fic that I can't quite put my finger on. anyways, gonna go watch Hugh Jackman edits on repeat until I get more fic ideas! 🫶

tw: mentions of robbery, violence, and other crimes associated with being a pirate, a LOT of swearing, the faintest hint of winselle, it's not angst but it gets sad at times???

summary: Your idea for your latest novel has you ruminating on your previous relationship with the woman who haunts your dreams, Giselle. Giselle's longing for a missing piece of her heart leads her to your front doorstep. She just has to hope that you won't close your heart to her, just as she did to you years ago.

♡ Masterlist ♡

A cool ocean breeze wraps around her neck as the chill of the night starts to seep into her bones. Every part of her is screaming to run, to go far away from the things that scare her.

But what is life without a little bit of adventure?

You watch the pendulum in your grandfather clock swing forward as the next words flow easily onto the paper.

She wanted to experience the adventure of the ocean, to let her heart travel with the ocean waves that beckoned her forward. But what was she to do? Abandon her family? Leave the familiarity of her hometown behind?

Leave them behind? The one person who supported them through thick and thin?

The pendulum swings back as you stare at the candlelight in your bedroom.

Rosella had a choice to make, one that would decide her entire destiny. A friend, or a lifetime of fulfillment?

Their call was strong, but the ocean’s was stronger. 

~

With one hand on your naval revolver and the other on your bag, your feet hit the ground with increasing frequency as you run towards the docks. You had a deadline to meet with your time and your writing. The traveling night market was in town tonight, and within their merry caravan of travelers was your editor. A shrewd old woman with a sharp tongue who had been your mentor since you had abandoned your studies to pursue writing as a career.

I would’ve stayed if Giselle stayed.

You shake your head at the thought of your childhood best friend - you were nothing but a fleeting nostalgic memory to her, so she should be the same to you.

The book, the market - I have to hurry.

Unfortunately, the night market only accepted incoming foot traffic until midnight, and according to your grandfather clock, it was a centimeter past eleven-fifty. Your home was ten minutes away from the docks - you’d be cutting it close if you were simply walking.

~

“You’re early.” The guard jokes as you pull out the business card that Merrin, your editor, gave to you. “She still edits your books?”

“As long as I keep writing them.” You fold your arms as the guard stares at the card. “Can I go in?”

“Try to make it quick - she’s in one of those moods again.” 

You pluck the card from their hand before waving at them.

“She’s always in a mood, but I have to hope that it’s a good one.”

You greet the various merchants and regulars that pass by you - most of them are familiar with your work, even if you use a moniker instead of your real name. It isn’t hard to deduce who the newest novelist on the block is when you know their publisher by name.

“When’s the new novel coming?” One shouts at you as you chuckle to yourself. “The last one really pulled on my heartstrings, and I need a bit of a pick-me-up before I go for a second read.”

“You’ll get your hands on it as soon as everyone else does.” You reassure them as they jokingly scoff and walk away.

Oh, the bliss of only being recognized by a small crowd of people.

You stop in front of the last tent on the docks - a large purple cloth hangs over the rods and poles that make up the foundation of the tent. Angry red vines dart over various parts of the tent, but none dare to cross each other.

You take a deep breath before entering the tent.

Hopefully her mood won’t sour mine.

“You’re earlier than usual. Did you get sick and tired of begging the guard to let you in until I would show up and save your ass?” Merrin, dressed in a conservative, frilly white dress, lights a candle with one hand as she balances on her cane with the other.

“Does your bad mood have to do with whoever’s wedding you interrupted?” You bite your lip as she slowly turns toward you.

“If my glasses were on me, I’d knock you to the floor with my cane.” She hobbles over to another table to light another candle as you approach the middle of the room. “And I thought this dress looks nice on me.”

“Yeah, if you were a fourteen-year-old noble who was forced to marry a man decades older than her.” Another sharp look from Merrin causes you to shut your mouth before she fulfills her early promise. “Are you in the mood to read something I’ve written?”

“Depends on if it’s better than the utter shit I’ve been reading all day.” Merrin sets her cane aside as she sits on one of the two chairs near the middle of the room. “Hand me my glasses, will you?”

“Don’t hit me with your cane, you old witch.” You pick her glasses up off of the floor before handing them to her.

“Why, I ought to-” She quickly grabs her cane, which causes you to immediately sit in the chair on her left.

You’re both playing with each other - she won’t hit you that hard, and you won’t completely piss her off. It’s just the way that Merrin is, and if you’re careful, you can break down her walls and see the woman behind the anger and sass.

As you look over to her, Merrin lightly taps your ankle with her cane as a rare smile appears on her face.

“How’s the novel coming? More progress than scribbles and midnight thoughts, I hope?” She looks surprised as you pull a bundle of parchment from your bag.

“I managed to get a chapter out, but it’s a rough draft, Merrin.” You remind her as you hand her the papers. “It isn’t very good-”

“-that’s for me to decide.” She says as she grabs the papers and adjusts the glasses on her face.

“I-” You interject before she gives you a pointed glare.

“Shut your damn mouth so I can read in peace.”

~

Sometimes you wonder why you chose Merrin as your editor - a form of punishment, perhaps?

That’s what you feel like you’re doing to yourself as she carefully scans every single word on the pages that you scribbled on. A spotlight has closed in on you, and you’re sweating under the pressure. What will you do if she rejects you again after this draft? Will you finally part ways with the woman who helped you find a path when you were nothing but an empty wanderer?

Merrin clears her throat as your attention snaps back to her.

She thinks it’s terrible - I’m never going to live this latest failure down.

“This is quite good.” She softly says as she reorganizes the papers for you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“And I thought I was the one with bad hearing, being old and all.” She snorts as you reach for the papers from her extended hand.

As soon as your hand touches them, Merrin snatches them out of your reach with a knowing smile.

“I have one question about the main character.” 

“Alright, lay it on me.” You sigh in relief as you can mentally prepare yourself for her critiques.

Rosella was hardly fleshed out, and she had little-to-no dialogue to give perspective into her motivations, ideals, and personality. Perhaps Merrin could help you with that?

“What woman inspired you to write Rosella?” She asks as you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I, uh…” You nervously look around, trying to think of an escape route. “She’s based on a friend, from long, long ago.”

You stress that this woman was long behind you, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not like she would show back up in your life after years and years of silence.

“Well, if you see this friend from a long, long time ago,” She stresses the words the same way you did, “tell her that she’s one hell of a protagonist.”

“I will.” You grit your teeth as your mind wanders to the woman in question.

I hope I never see her again.

~

Giselle scribbles various notes onto the map within the captain’s quarters. She used to be the primary navigator when the Red-Hair Pirates were nothing but an idea in Winter’s head.

“One day, this boat will be filled with pirates and friends we’ve collected in our travels,” Winter looked over to Giselle before placing a hand on her back, “and I’m going to need you to be by my side, every second of every day.”

Winter paused for a moment, before walking towards the ship and extending her hand to her.

“You have everything you ever need here - a good education, family, friends, and stability. I’m offering adventure until your heart's content, enough money to set your family up for life, and every kind of booze imaginable.”

“Even rum?” Giselle tilted her head at Winter, who gave her a toothy grin.

“Especially rum. So, are you in or what?”

“I’m in, I just… have to say some goodbyes first.”

Now, her role within the crew was more muddled, somewhat lying between weaponsmaster and navigator. Usually, she would sort out her navigating affairs in the morning, and then keep up with the weapons in the afternoon. The nighttime was reserved for merrymaking and hell-raising - just as Giselle liked it.

But there was a part of her missing, something she had been chasing with booze and adventure that couldn’t be replaced.

What was she missing?

“Giselle!” Karina barrels into the captain’s quarters as she nearly collides into the table.

“You’re still drunk.” She chuckles. “You can’t handle your liquor for shit.”

“And you prefer in that way, so you can scam me out of my money.” Karina scoffs before loudly hiccuping.

“Alright,” Giselle stops working and puts her hands up in the air, “I am a bit of a trickster, but we’re pirates, remember? It’s kind of our thing.”

“Eh.” Karina shrugs before throwing a book onto the desk where Giselle was working.

“What’s this?” 

She studies the book for a moment before looking at Karina

“A gift from the Captain. Winter says to come see her after giving it a read.” Karina stumbles out of the door before loudly shutting it.

“Riveting conversation with a drunk Karina, like usual.” Giselle mumbles to herself. “I wonder why Winter would want me to read this?”

Her hands gently trace the spine as she studies the author’s name in bold ink.

It’s not one she recognizes, but perhaps she might know the writing style? Curious, Giselle carefully opens the book and begins to read.

~

It was mid-afternoon before Giselle exited the captain’s quarters, much later than usual. When she does, she immediately charges towards her quarters in a fury.

It takes every bone in Giselle’s body to stop her from ripping her room to shreds to find the letters that she had locked away years ago.

The letters that reminded her of you. The letters that had the same cadence and writing style that you did. Those letters tied you to her, and, at the moment, pointed to you as the author.

More than that, Giselle had come to the realization that Winter knew that the two of you were connected.

And that was more terrifying than confronting someone from her past.

Giselle finds the letters under her bed, and they’re carefully tied together with a bit of rope. She snatches them within an instant, and she tucks them under her arm before beginning her journey to find Winter.

“Giselle!” Ningning calls out to her as Giselle appears on the upper deck. “I had a question about some of the knives that I found in the gunroom.”

“Not the time.” Giselle charges right past her as she spots Winter on the quarterdeck. 

“Is that the book Winter asked me to get you?” 

Giselle, with no hesitation, turns on her heel to face the assassin.

“Of course she did!” She sighs before turning around. “Am I the one finding this out last when it’s my business?”

“If it comforts you, I didn’t ask for any details. I just grabbed the book and gave it to her.” Ningning plays with a knife in her hand as Giselle tightly squeezes the book in her left hand.

“Thanks.” She grumbles before calling out to Winter, “Hey, you have some explaining to do!”

“As do you!” Winter copies her volume, but she waits until Giselle comes closer to begin speaking in a softer tone. “Are they the reason why you tried to send letters back to your hometown from the different ports that we stopped in?”

“You knew about that?” Giselle stares, absolutely befuddled.

“I know when my friends aren’t themselves. I did a little digging, and I found a gold vein.” Winter looks out to the ocean. “You could’ve told me, you know. We could’ve worked something out.”

“But you needed me-”

“-I did, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I knew that your loyalties lied with someone else.”

Giselle physically deflates before confessing the truth to Winter.

“So you know that I was a part of the naval academy before I joined you.” Giselle looks away in shame, like a small puppy. “They were too, but we quit together-”

“-so you could chase your dreams together. You, an acclaimed mapmaker. Them, an accomplished novelist. Do I have the narrative right?” Winter raises an eyebrow at Giselle.

Not quite.

“I loved them.” Giselle bites her lip. “I love them.”

Panic covers Giselle’s face as she opens her mouth to speak.

“There it is,” Winter smirks before yelling to the crew, “Set sail to the west.”

“I’m doing you a favor, mind you. You need to figure this out before it ends with you getting yourself killed. I can’t stand to watch my crewmate, my friend, drink herself into an early grave.”

“So we’re doing this?” Giselle asks.

“You’re doing this.”

~

“The pirates are coming! The pirates are coming!” A man on a horse repeats the same phrase over and over as he passes by your estate.

Pirates? Here? Why?

No, it can’t be those pirates.

Your head snaps towards the nearest window that faces the docks. In the distance, you can see a large pirate show approaching your humble town.

And wouldn’t you know it, the flag on the ship shows a dead skull sporting some fire-red hair.

The Red-Hair Pirates.

The crew that Giselle’s a part of.

Shit.

You can see a group of villagers approach the docks from your side, and you’re sure a fight will break out - no, a bloodbath will occur - if someone doesn’t get down there and stop it.

Maybe that naval training will come into use.

~

“Your kind isn’t welcome here.” A villager points a large shotgun at Winter’s chest, and she seems unphased by his outburst.

“We’re not here to loot, we just want to rest.” She pulls out a gold coin and flips it into the air before grabbing it and offering it to the villager. “Our coin is good here, no?”

“I-” He pauses before studying the coin. “One night. And the only place that you can shop is the night market.”

“That sounds like our kind of place, right?” Winter turns to her pirates, who cheer loudly. “I’ll make sure they’ll behave, I swear.”

“You better.” He scoffs before spitting at the ground. “C’mon, we have better things to do than guard open docks.”

The villagers disperse, which causes Giselle to sigh in relief.

That’s a battle I didn’t want to fight.

“Alright, everyone, back on the ship until nightfall. We aren’t welcome here until then, so this boat better be spotless in a few hours!” Winter commands, and her crew scrambles back onto the ship as Winter pulls Giselle aside. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do, and I don’t need backup. I’ll be back before nighttime.” Giselle softly says before Winter grabs her shoulder.

“I’d like to meet your friend, if they want to meet me. Perhaps it can help explain why you left - take some of the blame off of your shoulders,” Winter shrugs, “Or I can just have a drink with a friend and a friend of a friend. Either works for me.”

They’re… leaving?

“Not sure I’d call us friends, but I’ll see what I can do.”

~

You watch from a distance as the villagers, your neighbors, disperse with varying emotions on their faces. Some look relieved, others seem pissed, but most appear to be indifferent.

As if killing another wasn’t a brutal act that weighed on your soul for as long as you lived.

A woman with striking red hair turns to the pirates on the dock, and with only a few words, she sends them back onto the ship.

Their captain - Winter, the pirate queen of myths and legends.

Infamous doesn’t even begin to describe Winter, as her face was neatly plastered on every wanted board across the nation. Her reputation of brutality nearly exceeds her generosity and kindness. She took from the rich government ships and gave to the poor towns that she traveled to.

Almost like a storybook character. Perhaps my next protagonist can take some of her qualities.

Before all of her crew can go back to the ship, Winter pulls one of them aside. A girl with blonde hair, but a face that you recognize. Not from the wanted posters that showed her with black hair and a devilish yet charming smile.

But a ghost from your past, the woman who you were hoping to escape from. The girl who had invaded your dreams every night since she left.

Your Rosella.

Giselle.

You want to turn away, to run back to the safety of your home, but you can’t. Not because you want to see Giselle, but because she’d follow you back home.

After all, it was her home too.

With a deep breath, and as much courage as you can muster, you let your feet carry you towards Giselle.

Towards your destiny.

Giselle’s eyes widen as she sees you walking towards her with an unreadable expression on your face. You’re not completely pissed, which is good, but you don’t look happy. You’re not sad, but there isn’t any longing in your eyes. There’s no indifference in your face, but when your eyes meet hers, a twinkle of nostalgia appears briefly.

~

Perhaps you missed her as much as she missed you.

“You look…” Giselle pauses as the two of you meet in the middle of the road. “Well.”

“Thanks.” You nod before looking out to the ocean. “I like your blonde hair. It suits you.”

“Thanks…” Giselle trails off while hoping that the road would open up and swallow her whole.

Why was it so hard to talk to you? She thought of a million things to say to you, but none of them seemed right.

So let’s start with the simplest one.

“I’m sorry.”

When the words leave her lips, you look over in surprise.

As if you thought that she meant to hurt you.

A dagger slices through her heart, as the wound that is your shared history is reopened again. She’s going to let herself drown in bad blood unless she says something else.

Something that will make this right.

Nothing will, she knows this. But why not try?

“I’m sorry for leaving you with such a shitty goodbye. I’m sorry for convincing you to leave the naval academy with me and then leaving you behind. I’m sorry that I never was able to return your letters.” She pauses to hand you them.

“You kept them?” You tilt your head at her. “After all of these years?”

“Of course I did.” She says before softly laughing. “It was the only reminder I had of home.”

“I thought the sea was your home.” 

“No, my home was always you.” Giselle quietly mumbles. “I wanted to explore, to see the world, but I wanted to come back home.”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Your voice is laced with hurt, and Giselle wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms.

But you’re not that close, not anymore.

“I tried to, but no letter carrier would take my money. Turns out that people aren’t fond of pirates,” She scoffs, “but I kept them all in my quarters. Perhaps you’d like to see them?”

A light smile appears on your face - you’re actually contemplating her offer.

“Would you like to see the home first? I don’t know if it has changed much-”

“-that sounds great.” Giselle lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

A peace offering. An olive branch. Perhaps you can begin anew?

~

Months ago, you would’ve sworn at Giselle if she had set foot in your town, let alone in your house. That was before you finished the book, before a character in that book taught you something about forgiveness.

“Will you ever forgive me, my dear?” Rosella says to her beloved. “I know it’s been years, but I can’t help but yearn for you. Our souls are intertwined, and no amount of treasure will ever make up for losing you.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive and forget, but…”

“But?” A flicker of hope appears in Rosella’s eyes.

“But maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

You watch Giselle comb over your bookshelf as you take a seat in the living room. 

“You really didn’t change this place, huh?” She says before sitting at a chair on the opposite end of the room.

“It didn’t feel right. This is still your home, after all.” You say.

“Our home,” Giselle corrects you before her eyes widen, “shit. I didn’t mean to-”

You wave away her concerns with a charming smile.

“No, it’s alright.”

An awkward silence spreads over the room - what should you say to her now?

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Giselle softly asks before looking in your eyes. “I don’t want to intrude if I’m not welcome.”

You take a deep breath - it’s time to address the massive elephant in the room.

“Giselle, I don’t want to do this back-and-forth with you. I want to talk about what happened between us.” 

You’re surprised at how mature you sound, how non-malicious your words are. You had gone over this moment a thousand times in your head, but none of them were this nice or friendly.

“What is there to talk about? I ruined your life, no, our lives. I promised you that pirating was only a temporary thing, and you can see how that ended-”

“It pains me to see you tear yourself up about this, Giselle.” You calmly say as she pauses and reflects for a moment. “How can we move forward if we’re stuck reliving the past over and over?”

“You want to start again?” 

Giselle looks dumbfounded as you nod.

“We might not be that close again, not for a long time, but we can try being friends. Then we’ll see where it goes.” You shrug your shoulders as she thinks for a moment before responding.

“Why would you let me get away with what I did to you? I left you alone for years, with not a word of my health and well-being. Why put yourself through that again?”

You chuckle to yourself as familiar words come to the front of your mind.

“Maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

“From your book.” She responds wistfully before her eyes widen. “You wrote yourself as the love interest?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod as the realization comes crashing down on Giselle.

“And the girl, Rosella, who is strong, beautiful, and kind. The girl who messes up time after time yet she still manages to redeem herself - that’s me?”

“Yup.” You’re quiet for a moment, to allow Giselle to process everything. “Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration?”

“Why?” She leans forward as her voice quivers in anticipation. “Why me?”

“Because no matter how much I hated you, I could never get you out of my head. You haunted my every dream and nightmare. I couldn’t escape your grasp, so I wrote about the woman who had completely transfixed my mind, body, and soul.” 

A breathy chuckle escapes your lips.

This is just like a confession that I would write in my book. The next thing she would say is I love you-

“I never stopped loving you.” She confesses before standing up.

You stand up to meet her gaze.

“Neither did I.”

~

“To be completely honest,” Winter says as you and Giselle approach the docks, “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“You’re still my captain, Winter.” She smiles before gesturing to you. “This is my friend, the one I told you about.”

“Friend,” She stares at your intertwined hands, “right. Excuse my staring. It isn’t every day that you meet an author of legend.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you to say.” You nudge Giselle’s shoulder. “Why can’t you be as charming as her?”

“Hey-” She tries to defend herself, but Winter’s laughter cuts her off.

“Oh, I like them. They’d be a good addition to our crew.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you blink rapidly.

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so, unless Giselle objects?” Winter turns to Giselle, who glances at you.

“It’s your decision. I won’t force it on you-”

“Yes,” You quickly answer, “but I’m not sure what use I would be to your crew.”

“We could use your writing and organizing skills to keep track of weapons, finances, maps, food, and other supplies on the ships. That means that you would be working closely with Giselle and I.” Winter explains as you nod along. “Plus there would be plenty of time for you to continue writing your latest masterpiece. I know you’re good with a gun - I can see the Navy’s engravings on the handle, so combat won’t be an issue for you.”

You quickly hide your gun holster with your coat.

“I hope you don’t take offense to my weapons background,” You say before leaning over to Giselle, “how the fuck does she know all of that?”

“Long story, I’ll explain after a drink or two,” Giselle whispers back, “but I’m glad that you’re going with us. It’ll be nice to show you to all of the places that we’ve been before.”

“Got it.” You smile before letting go of Giselle’s hand.

She reaches out to grab it, but you instead maneuver around her hand to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I, um…” She struggles to articulate her feelings as a furious blush appears on her face.

Winter laughs loudly before gesturing towards the ship.

“We still have a few hours before nightfall. Perhaps we can celebrate with a drink?”

“Sounds good. You in?” You ask Giselle, who can’t even look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Her face is still red as Winter walks to the ship.

“Feel free to join me when you’re ready.”

You go to follow behind her, but Giselle stops you by catching your arm with her hand.

“Hey, I-” She pauses to regain her composure, “Thank you, for this. I needed it.”

“It really isn’t a problem,” You say before leaning in to tease her, “but don’t expect me to kiss you every time you need a pick-me-up.”

“Damn, you know my schemes before I can properly plan them.” Giselle smirks before pulling you closer. “But I can always kiss you, right?”

She closes the distance between your lips before quickly pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Tease.” You grumble as she leans back.

“You started it, and I ended it.” She shrugs before her hand slips into yours. “We shouldn’t keep Winter waiting - we don’t want her to have a bad impression of you, right?”

You nod as Giselle leads you on to the ship.

As her crewmates greet you and welcome you onto the ship, you wonder if this new chapter of your life will be something to write about.

Maybe it’s time for my story to be told.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Goons of Gotham

There was no shortage of goon, miscreants and scoundrels in Gotham City, far too many to list individually in this project.  That said, here are several of the more prominent goons that batman has had to contend with throughout the years.

Germs and Bell

A pair of neurotic goons in the employ of Roland Daggat, Germs and Bell handled the illegal dirty work that allowed Daggat to conduct his illegal affairs while keeping his hands clean and maintaining plausible deniability.  Unsurprisingly, this did not work out well for the pair of ne’er-do-wells and both ended up defeated and apprehended by the Dark Knight.  

Actor Ed Bagley Jr. provided the voice for Germs while actor Scott Valentine voiced Bell.  The cads first appeared in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Feat of Clay Part One.’    

Carlton Duquesne 

A renown mobster in Gotham City, Carlton Duquesne ran highly successful protection rackets for The Penguin. Duquesne teamed up with the Penguin and Rupert Thorne in a potentially lucrative scheme to sell illegal weapons to the war torn nation of Kaznia.  The operation was taken down by the mysterious Batwoman and Duquesne and his coconspirators were sentenced to prison.

Actor Kevin Michael Richardson provided the voice for Carlton Duquesne with the character appearing in the animated feature, Batman: Mystery of The Batwoman.  

Ma Mayhem

The villainous Ma Mayhem was an old-fashioned criminal in the futuristic Gotham City. With her two sons in tow, Ma Mayhem committed several robberies that eventually led to her running afoul of Batman (Terry McGinnis).  Although Batman initially struggled in dealing with the villains, the hero eventually prevailed and Mayhem and her two boys were captured and incarcerated.

Actress Kathleen Freeman provided the voice for Ma Mayhem with the matriarchal menace  first appearing in the nineteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Egg Baby.’  

Captain Clown

Not much is known about Captain Clown, other than it was absolutely terrifying.  It was a powerful android of unknown origins that The Joker had obtained and dressed up as a sea-faring clown.  The android was programed to follow The Joker’s instruction and aided the Clown Prince of Crime in his scheme to use a garbage barge to embank all of Gotham with his toxic laughing gas.  

It was quite difficult for Batman to defeat Captain Clown, only succeeding when he was able to trap the android in an industrial car crusher that compacted it into a cube of metal and wires.  Distraught over his robotic minion’s demise, The Joker exclaimed ‘You’ve killed Captain Clown!’

The frightening android appeared in the fifteenth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘The Last Laugh.’  

Armory

A former Special Forces operative, Jim Tate later acquired advanced degrees in electronics and engineering, with which he made an impressive career as a small arms weapons designer.  After he was fired from Wayne/Powers, Tate became desperate to maintain his tony lifestyle.  Utilizing his training and expertise in experimental weaponry, he became the villainous Armory yet was ultimately taken down by Batman.  

Actor Dorian Harewood provided the voice for the Jim Tate with the character first appearing in the tenth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Spellbound.’ 

Nitro

An explosives expert and arsonist, ‘Nitro’ Nelson took great glee in blowing things up.  He was hired by Roland Daggett to set off a series of bombs that would level the Park Row neighborhood of Gotham.  Actor David L. Lander provided the voice for Nitro, with the villain appearing in the twelve episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Appointment in Crime Alley.’  

Golem

Nelson Nash was a student at Hamilton High School who was frequently bullied by a fellow student.  Pushed too far, Nelson decided to get his revenge by stealing a Galvanic Lifter Machine so to destroy his tormentor’s car.  This Galvanic Lifter Machine (nicknamed a ‘golem’) was an enormous robotic loading device with a roughly humanoid shape.  The machine was operated by way of a neural-syncing headband that enabled the operator to control it through mental command.  

After destroying the car, Nelson used the Golem to menace another classmate he had a crush on.  At this point Batman interceded and debilitated the Golem unit with an electrified battarang that caused it to short circuit and shut down.  The feedback into the neural headband caused Nelson to be shocked into unconsciousness.  When he awakened, however, he found that had somehow cultivated psychic powers that enabled him to control the Golem even without the rural headband.  

Actor Seth Green provided the voice for Nelson Nash with the young villain and his robotic companion first appearing in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Golem.’  

Garth

An early subject outcome of Doctor Dorian's experiments, Garth was a gorilla with enhanced intelligence and other rudimentary human-like capabilities.  Not as refined a subject as Dorian’s later creation, Tygrus, Garth did prove useful as muscle to execute the scientist’s schemes.  

Actor Jim Cummings provided the voice for Garth, with the brute appearing in the thirtieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Tyger Tyger.’ 

Ian Peak

An ambitious and unscrupulous television journalist, Ian Peak was the host of ‘The Inside Peak,’ an infamous tabloid newscast that dished the dirt on the influential people of Gotham City.  After stealing an experimental intangibility belt from a scientist, Peak used the belt to garner all manner of secrets regarding the luminaries of Gotham.  He even discovered Bruce Wayne’s secret identity as Batman.  Unfortunately for Peak, however, the belt ultimately caused his body to lose structural integrity and he perished when his body defended down into the earth’s core.  

Actor Michael McKean provided the voice for Ian Peak with the villainous paparazzi appearing in the eighteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond ‘Sneak Peak.’   

Doctor Belson

Gregory Belson was a transplant surgeon who had previously worked in the  cryogenics laboratories at GothCorp where he was a colleague of Victor Fries.  A series of poorly thought through investments resulted in Belson’s finding himself in a dire financial situation.  Mr. Freeze was able to leverage Belson’s debts as a means of getting him to conspire with him in a dastardly plot.  This resulted in the craven Belson meeting a fiery end.  

Actor George Dzundza provided the voice for Dr. Belson, appearing in the animated feature, Batman & Mr. Freeze: Sub-Zero.

The Repeller

Dr. Suzuki was a researcher working in the medicinal technologies department of Wayne-Powers.  He and his colleague developed the ISO field generator rings which could generate a magnetic forcefield around a living being.  Suzuki stole the device and used it to commit crimes as the villains ‘Repeller.’  Batman was ultimately able to surmise the Repeller’s true identity and take the villain down.  

Actor Gedde Watanabe provided the voice for the Repeller with the villain appearing in the second episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Untouchable.’   

Vincent Starkey

Also known as ‘The Shark’ Vincent Starkey was a mobster and drug dealer who had previously been put away by Detective Harvey Bullock.  When Bullock was receiving death threats, he was certain that the recently paroled Starkey was behind them.  Aided by Batman, The Shark was taken down as he was starting up a new narcotics racket.  Although it turned out that it was actually Bullock’s landlord who was behind the death threats.  

Actor Gregg Berger provided the voice for Vincent Starkey with the villain first appearing in the fourth episode of the fourth season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘A Bullet for Bullock.’  

Falseface

The mysterious mercenary known only as Falseface possessed the ability to shape the contours of his face so to imitate any man of his size and stature. The villain was hired by the terrorist organization known as Kobra to smuggle a deadly virus into Gotham.  The plot was thwarted by the combined efforts of Batman and Stalker.

Actor Townsend Coleman provided the voice for Falseface with the villain appearing in the twenty-first episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Plague.’  

Montague Kane

Doctor Montague Kane traveled around the world publishing works on debunking the supernatural.  He showed a particular interest in magicians, revealing to the public the non-magical ways of how their illusions worked. 

The stage magician known as Zatanna was aware of Kane's reputation.  Revealing the secrets of stage magic was very much frown upon and Zatanna was eager to stump him with a trick he would not be able to figure out.  Although Zatanna was practiced in real magic, she relied on traditional sleight of hand in her stage act.  And she had created an illusion utilizing mirrors that would make it appear as though ten million dollars had disappeared from the Gotham Mint.

Kane was actually a cheat and a thief.  He learned how Zatanna was planning to pull off her trick and seized upon it as a means to steal this money for himself.   And Kane's expertise of illusions allowed him to rig the trick so that it would seem the money was there, while it was already stolen.

Kane and his lacks tried to make a quick getaway with the stolen money but were stopped by Batman and Zatanna.  Kane was delivered to the police and Zatanna was cleared of all charges.

Actor Michael York provided the voice of Montague Kane with he villainous skeptic appearing in the fiftieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Zatanna.’

Bigtime

Charlie ‘Big Time’ Bigelow was an ambitious hoodlum and former friend of Terry McGinnis.  Three years prior to Terry becoming Batman, Charlie and Terry were arrested for burglary.  Charlie was eighteen and tried as an adult, resulting in a three year prison term; whereas Terry was still a minor and hence avoided jail time.  

Following his release, Charlie fell in was a gang of thieves who planned to steal an experimental chemical from a Wayne-Powers facility.  

The robbery went awry and Charlie ended up doused in the mutagenic chemical.  This caused him become physically deformed, yet also bestowed him super human strength and durability.  Going by the alias of ‘Big Time’ Charlie used his newfound powers to become a super villain and had multiple altercations with Batman.

Actors Stephen Baldwin and Clancy Brown provided the voice for the villain, first appearing in the fourth episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Big Time.’  

Mutro Botha

The killer known as Mutro Botha was a top lieutenant within the mysterious Society of Assassins.  When the Society found itself hunted by Curaré, Botha attempted to extort Batman into protecting him.  The plan did not work and Botha ended up killed by Curaré.  

The legendary Tim Curry provided the voice for Muto Botha, with the desperate criminal appearing in the fifteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Final Cut.’  

[eleni-cherie]

agents at first sight ✨ || bts • ksj [ONE-SHOT]

"you're Squirtle?"

"you're Charmander?"

about two interpol agents falling at first sight, literally, thanks to a master thief on the run.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

[one-shot in 'the thieves collection' series - can be read independently!!]

»»»

— word count: 5.1k

— genre: interpol agent au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburning, mutual pining, strangers to lover s2l

— song recommendations/inspirations:

the last shadow puppets - the element of surprise

solar - honey

frank sinatra - strangers in the night

keri hilson - i like

»»»

COPYRIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

IDEA/STORY/CHARACTERS BASED ON MY PREVIOUS STORIES: "A THIEF'S ORIGIN" , "AMONG THIEVES" AND "A THIEF'S END".

this one-shot aims to give the backstory of how seokjin and yongsun met, as mentioned in the other parts of the series.

if you want the full context and also know what happens with with them afterwards, check out the other stories as well!

PROTAGONISTS:

KIM SEOKJIN AS HIMSELF; LEADER OF THE ROBBERY DEPARTMENT / "CHARMANDER"

KIM YONGSUN AS HERSELF; AGENT IN THE ORGANISED CRIME DEPARTMENT / "SQUIRTLE"

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

NOT FREE FROM LINGUISTIC ERRORS - ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.

DON’T BE A GHOST READER. LIKE, COMMENT & SHARE THIS STORY IF YOU LIKE IT :))

DEDICATED TO EVERYONE WHO’S READING THIS FANFIC!

CHECK OUT MY OTHER BTS STORIES AS WELL: HERE

-Elenixx

»»»

[set after the final chapter of the main story but before its epilogue]

Straits of Singapore, 30km off Singapore

"Sir, are you sure he'll show up tonight? It's been hours and still no sign from Park, Kim or Min."

Seokjin studied the piece of paper between his fingers. It was crinkled from having been stored in his jacket all evening.

A dry laugh left his lips then. "Don't worry, Blake," he said into the radio, "When Park Jimin says he's showing up, he will."

"Roger."

A muffled chuckle was heard beside him as he put the device down and he glanced at Hoseok resting his folded arms on the desk. "But only if you cracked his riddle correctly," his former team mate and friend pointed out with a raised brow, "I mean, you sure about time and place?"

"Pretty sure, yes. He sent that with a postmark from Singapore," the leader of the robbery department nodded and held the paper out for him. Hoseok grabbed it with curiosity, reading over the scribbled note with a hum.

'Meet me at the deck with no cards,

when the sun comes home.

Don't forget to wear a bow tie!

I'll bring the bow, not the arrows though.

See ya!'

"'Deck', 'bow' and the 'see', which is a homophone of 'sea' - it all hints to a ship. And this cruise ship with a bunch of loaded people is the only kind our thieves would be interested in."

"Yeah, I see - no pun intended," the leader of the organised crime department said and slid the note back, "And 'when the sun comes home' means when it's the closest to earth, which was today. Summer solstice."

"Exactly."

"Okay, fine," Hoseok sat back and let his eyes wander around the security room. Eventually adding with a sigh, "But I'm still bummed he had to pick the same time and place my team's got to perform an undercover operation at. Too many cooks spoil the broth, you know. There're so many other places or dates."

"You forget the CEO's wife owns this highly valuable black pearl. I bet everything I have that this is what they're after."

"Probably."

"The better question is, why does that mob boss you're after have to attend the same party."

"What do you think.." Hoseok propped his jaw on the palm of his hand, a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips. "He's acquaintance with Lee, that CEO."

A short laugh left Seokjin's lips and he averted his gaze from the security screens. "Of course, criminals and CEOs are not that different from each other after all."

His younger colleague showed his agreement with an amused chuckle when his radio transmitter beeped.

"Sunflora here, what do you have for me Squirtle?" he answered, causing Seokjin's brows to furrow.

'Squirtle' and 'Sunflora' were the names of Pokémons after all. So he gave Hoseok a wondering look which the latter only dismissed by waving his hand.

"Purugly is heading to the restrooms. S-should I follow?"

'Purugly'. Another Pokémon.

"No, but keep an eye on him nonetheless and wait in a good distance. If he doesn't come out in five, report."

"Understood."

He put the device back down, meeting Seokjin's questioning face. "So?"

"What?"

"You got Pokémon codenames? Never knew you were so into it."

Hoseok shook his head though. "Wasn't my idea," he explained with a laugh under his breath, "Squirtle is her favourite one and she claims she looks like it, that's why she always uses it. So I thought why not using these names for all of us? Makes the whole undercover thing a bit more fun."

"Huh, that's clever. I should do that, too, from now on." The older agent paused but only for dramatic effects as he added with a sigh, "Disappointed I didn't come up with that myself."

"Be my guest. Have you any in mind already?"

"Charmander, of course!" he exclaimed full of enthusiasm and picked his own radio device. "Blake, Jeon? From now on only call me 'Charmander' over the radio. Got it?"

Jungkook's chuckle was heard on the other line. He was rather amused than irritated, but even Skylar wasn't questioning her supervisor's quirks anymore. Both replying with: "Roger that, Charmander." 

"You really do with them whatever you want, huh?" Hoseok wondered with a laugh while scanning over the security screens from the ballroom where the birthday party happened. 

Considering they were on a cruise ship, it was impressive how grand it was. Opulent decorations like crystal chandeliers hanging above the heads of guests, adding to the ambiance of the ballroom. People dressed in their most expensive and fashionable gowns and suits while enjoying conversations and litres of flowing champagne and wine. 

Seokjin only shrugged with a smile. "The kids are alright and they're able to see a joke. But I do sometimes miss you and Namjoonie. Remember when we first started out together?"

Hoseok huffed out a laugh, reminiscing the past when the three of them started out in the robbery department together. "Don't remind me, I'm glad I don't have to deal with the shenanigans of these thieves anymore." He patted Seokjin's shoulder than. "But it was surely fun with you guys, I miss that, too."

He was about to add more when his transmitter beeped once again, interrupting his train of thoughts.

"Squirtle here, he hasn't come out yet."

With a groan, Hoseok's face hardened and he got closer to the screens. His eyes narrowing as he switched through the cameras. It always astonished and in some way also scared Seokjin how he could go from cheery to professional within a second.

"Squirtle, you hear me?"

"Yes, Sunflora."

"There hasn't been any records of him leaving through the other side of the corridor. Are you sure he hasn't returned to the party?"

"Positive. Is there a different way out?"

Seokjin's eyes widened at this and he grabbed the blueprint they'd got from security, eyes searching for any possible vents or openings. He gestured to Hoseok to pass him the radio over.

"Here's Charmander. According to -"

"Sorry, who's there?"

Remembering he'd literally only just come up with his new codename and had never directly spoken with this 'Squirtle' before, he laughed a little embarrassed to himself. "Sorry, agent Kim from the robbery department here," he spoke firmly, "The blueprint doesn't show any other means of escape, unless he decided to swim back to shore. So he must be still in there. Wait another five."

"Okay, got it."

"Is that Squirtle good?" he questioned his friend while sinking back into his seat, observing the monitors.

"She's my best agent actually," Hoseok answered truthfully, "You should've seen her shooting her way through and bending a whole gang boss to his knees. It was beautiful."

The older agent whistled lowly, quite impressed by the thought of that. Or at least how he imagined it. "Sounds like a feisty one."

"Depends. She's surely a lively person, but once you get to know her, she's an easy-going homebody. Similar to you."

A scoff passed Seokjin's lips, pretending being offended by his words. "So you wanna say I'm not unique?"

"Well, I wouldn't subscribe to that," Hoseok said with a teasing grin, "Both of you also get upset in the same hilarious way actually."

"Ouch, that hurts my pride you know."

The two shared a laugh when a sudden commotion on the monitors caught their attention. The guests seemed to be agitated and scattering around the area.

"Jeon, Blake, what's going on there?"

"The black pearl, it fell from Mrs Lee's brooch."

"There's multiple pearls on the floor now! It created a turmoil."

"I can imagine," Seokjin muttered before speaking louder into the radio, "Keep your eyes closely to the guests. Surely that's a distraction by Jimin and the like."

"Of course."

He stood up then, sliding on his black suit jacket. "I'm heading out for support. See, told you he'd show up."

"You need my help? I could tell my agents -"

"Nah, don't worry. I'm sure you guys have your hands full with this commotion, too."

"Sunflora?" Indeed, Hoseok's own agent tried getting in touch with him. And he gave Seokjin a thumbs up, wishing him good luck as he headed out, before grabbing his radio device then.

"Sunflora here."

"I spotted Purugly. He's rushing out with a group of people due to some uproar, I'm following him."

"Roger, Squirtle. Be careful in the chaos, it's a distraction from the thieves. The robbery team will handle it though. You focus on our guy."

"Got it."

»»»

Seokjin squeezed through the noisy and fidgety mass, people hunching and picking up any black pearls they could find - or at least the fake ones Jimin had spread around to cause this uproar.

It was impossible to draw his gun with so many civilians around, so he just continued with careful steps and sharp eyes. Soon spotting something that rose enough suspicion in him to follow it. A rather calm man was galantly making his way among the rambling crowd.

The main reason this man rose his suspicion was rather intuitive though. He recognised him being one of the bodyguards close to the Lee's, he'd stood beside them all evening. Of course his agents had already checked all stuff members for possible disguised criminals before boarding the ship, but they hadn't been observing them nonstop ever since. And this bodyguard now was clearl heading to the exit instead of being on the other side of the ballroom with his boss who was panicked and shouting at his men to find his wife's pearl.

With a confident smirk, he neared the man until he was close enough to grab him by the shoulder. "And I thought you'd never make your appearance, Park Jimin. You had me waiting for quite some time," he sighed in fake-annoyance.

The man visibly flinched at Seokjin's words, glancing over his shoulder then with a lopsided grin.

"Sorry, pops! Got a date with a pearl!"

He abruptly crouched, disappearing from his sight and Seokjin spotted him a few seconds later further away. He'd got rid of his disguise by now and promptly continued his way among the people. But Seokjin wouldn't let Jimin throw him off so easily.

He was close on his heels and Jimin could feel it. His eyes quickly scanning the area for any possible distraction when seeing the interpol agent almost having reached him again. But then he realised that he was literally in the middle of possible distractions and smirked as soon as he spotted a suitable one.

As he continued pushing threw the mass of people, he grabbed someone's wrist and abruptly tucked the person backwards. Right in front of Seokjin, blocking his way. It was a young woman with dyed dirty-blond hair and in the pushing and shoving, stumbled and fell against the agent's chest who caught her out of reflex.

"My apologies, miss, but -" Seokjin was about to politely shove her away when their eyes met. And any further words got stuck in his throat instead. 

He swallowed hard. She was the most mesmerizing woman he'd ever seen in his life. 

Full cheeks, cute nose, pillowy lips and soft brown eyes which were staring back at him intensely, placed so perfectly that it completely disarmed him and took his breath away.

For a moment he wasn't in the middle of the ballroom anymore, he was in the abyss of her wondering orbs.

The woman seemed just as stunned, her expression mirroring his.

However, soon he was washed back to the shore of reality and his memory returned, recalling his initial task of chasing after Jimin.

"S-sorry."

The woman's eyes turned into a dazed scowl, as if she herself had just snapped back into reality and wouldn't recognise the place she found herself in. She stepped back, at least as much as she could in the crowded space, his hands sliding off from the warm skin of her arms. And without a single word, she simply turned and disappeared back into the sea of people. Like a siren who had lured him into her world only to release him again after growing bored.

Someone in his work field and position shouldn't get that easily distracted and usually he didn't. But something in this mysterious woman completely enchanted him and it was more than unfortunate they had to meet under such circumstances.

Perhaps, in a different profession, in a different life, he could've met her differently. Could've spoken to her more.

By the look in her almond eyes, she might've felt the same sugar-rush shooting through her chest. But it didn't matter anyway, he wouldn't see her again. And he had to focus on more important things right now.

He began running through the now less dense becoming crowd, out of the ballroom. The double doors closed behind him with a dull sound, drowning out the jarring voices from inside. The corridor was long and he'd seen Jimin running towards it so it was his best shot right now. 

Eventually reaching outside the deck, he was met with the strong night wind of the open sea tousling his dark waves. It was sparsely lit, only a simple lamp every few metres illuminating the broad area. And there at its end, on the very edge, he found the masterthief standing and laughing as soon as he noticed Seokjin nearing him. As if he'd been waiting for him all along.

"Oh damn, didn't expect you back so soon. Really thought I made a good choice there, could swear she'd be your type."

The agent laughed under his breath, biting down his lip. It wasn't surprising to him anymore, knowing his opponent well enough in all those years to know his little mind games. So he chose to ignore his comment, not giving him the satisfaction of a retort. Although Jimin already knew the truth by the brief look that passed Seokjin's eyes.

"Hands up," the agent said instead with a confident smirk, now able to draw his gun, "Unless you wanna fall into the cold sea."

The thief, however, only met him with an unfazed glance. His arms slowly going up before one of his hands turned, revealing something between his fingers. And under the light of the full moon he could see it sparkling dark. The black pearl.

Seokjin could tell it was the real one.

"Hm, maybe I'll do just that. You know, return the pearl to its natural habitat on the way, too. Thanks for the great idea, pops!" His lips curled further into a beaming grin and before Seokjin could react, Jimin let himself fall backwards.

Perplexed, the agent rushed to the railing. The harsh wind hitting his face as he looked over it, making out the outlines of a motorboat in the darkness. Diverging from the ship and driving towards the coast. 

"Dammit." He sighed and hit the cold metal of the railing, letting it echo get swallowed by the waves. With a dragged sigh, he couldn't help but laugh shortly before pulling out his radio device.

"Jungkook, Skylar?"

Jungkook was faster to answer this time."Yes, sir?"

"Find a radio unit and alert coastguards and agents on the mainland to keep an eye on a motorboat coming from our direction."

"I assume it's about our thieves?"

"Correct, Jeon."

"Roger, I'm on my way."

Returning inside, he caught sight of security guards and staff members who had managed taking back control over the situation and calmed people down.

He came across one of the other agents of Hoseok's team and asked him where his supervisor was. The agent told him in the manager's office with their suspect and Seokjin thanked him before making his way there. As he passed by with hasty steps, walking to the other end where another door led to the offices and security room, he spotted the CEO and his distraught wife being questioned by Skylar in a corner.

Soon he reached a cherrywood door, giving it a few knocks and watching it open at the third knock, revealing his friend behind it. And Hoseok stepped out.

"Heard you got your man, that must be him I assume?" he motioned to the handcuffed guy at the armchair behind Hoseok's shoulders.

Hoseok grinned. "Yup, our 'Purugly' aka Mr San Shinjuk. Isn't that right?"

The criminal kept an desinterested and bored expression, unimpressed by his enthusiasm. "You got nothing on me anyway."

"I wouldn't call a wad of 100,000 won notes and exposing documents, nothing," Hoseok countered with a raised brow, making the man scoff and grow back quiet. Making Hoseok grin widen before joining Seokjin outside in the corridor, closing the door behind him.

"What happened with Park?"

Seokjin only let out a dry laugh. "Well, let's say at least you got your guy.."

Hoseok's eyes widened. "You mean he -"

"Yeah, yeah," Seokjin ran his fingers through his hair, "They got away again."

"Well, next time then."

"Of course next time!"

"I gotta say though. Thanks to the little panic he created, San couldn't complete his restroom deal," Hoseok chuckled.

The irony that his friend was thankful to his nemesis wasn't missed on him. "So that's what took him so long in there.."

"Exactly."

"But I surely won't thank Jimin," Seokjin huffed then, "Would only get into his already big head."

"Sir!"

The yell coming from the end of the corridor, cut their laughing off. The person audibly churned up as they came closer.

"Sir, I'm sorry I lost San. Someone pushed me and there was an idiot blocking my way. Otherwi-"

"Don't worry, Kim," Hoseok interrupted her with a reassuring smile, "You did a good job. We got him."

The woman sighed in relief and her tense shoulders relaxed. A weight seemingly being lifted from her shoulders. "I'm glad, I was worried we wasted our chance."

She was about to leave again when her eyes landed on the person beside her supervisor

Seokjin had turned around to see who Hoseok was talking to behind his back.

And both grew stiff.

There she was, the woman with the full cheeks and dazzling eyes. Her waves pushed to one side, cascading down her shoulder softly as silk. Their bright shade contrasting the black fabric of her tight dress. Now without endless people surrounding them, he had a clearer view on her, seeing it reached only half her thighs, leaving a handwidth of skin between its hem and her overknee boots who added height to her rather petite physique. And he noticed the grip of a 9mm peaking out from one of them.

He watched her burgundy lips part then in shock, unable to avert her eyes from him either.

"The idiot," she eventually breathed, causing the sudden tension to dissolve abrubtly. And Seokjin scoffed amused. "Excuse me?"

She dismissed his question and instead glanced at Hoseok behind him. Only earning a confused glance back. "You two know each other?"

"This is the idiot who blocked my way!"

"Hey, wait a sec, I didn't do it on purpose!" Seokjin quickly defended himself, "Jimin pushed you onto me, so if someone blocked anyone's way it was you blocking mine."

Flustered at the unknown to her details on the incident, she folded her arms and looked away. "That- that wasn't my intention," she mumbled then with a small embarrassed huff.

The taller man sighed and mimicked her in a less serious manner. "Neither mine."

"Well," Hoseok began then in an attempt to change topics, "Agent Kim, how about you let me introduce you to the other agent Kim then?"

She frowned, looking Seokjin up and down. "You're an agent?"

He ignored her judging glare and flashed her a charming smile instead. In a way, he found her even more intriguing now than before. "Nice to meet you. And you are?"

Hoseok nudged his arm as he stepped beside him. "She's the one you talked to earlier. Agent Kim Yongsun."

"You-" His eyes grew, facing her again with a stunned expression. "You're 'Squirtle'?"

Yongsun unintentionally backed off, equally astonished. "You are 'Charmander'?"

This was the guy who also used Pokémon codenames like her? No way.

»»»

"Hey."

Yongsun averted her gaze from the waves beneath her, the wind brushing rather harshly against her bare skin. The ship was heading back to the harbour, all guests having been gathered back inside until arrival and she used the short length of time to enjoy the city lights in the distance sparkling like watercolour on its dark surface.

"H-hey."

She straightened herself when seeing Seokjin approaching her on the deck. He emerged from under the sparsely lit canopy with a timid smile on his lips. His dark brown hair pushed back by now, his forehead peaking behind a few loose strands. His tall figure came to an halt beside her then and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket that was casually left unbuttoned. 

"I didn't think I'd find anyone here. You alright?"

"Yeah."

Oh, he did look like a deity – exuding the perfect balance of authority and charm.

Her breath hitched and she managed to give him a nod along with a hum through her folded lips. Focusing back at the crashing waves underneath. 

Truth was, she was uncertain of how to face him again after the previous hour and perhaps also tried avoiding him by staying out there. After all, she'd called a department leader an idiot. It didn't matter that she'd found out - after asking around her team mates - that he was actually a year, almost two, younger than her. In the agency, he remained a senior agent to her.

Sure, she hadn't been aware of who he was in that moment and he'd also seemed taking the whole story with humour. Yet, she couldn't help feeling awkward and mortified in his vicinity. She couldn't even look him straight in the eyes anymore. Even if it didn't cause her trouble at work, it still remained an embarrassing memory and she felt her face heat up.

"Sorry again for earlier," she mumbled while grabbing onto the metal pole of the railing, in search for the right approach, "For.. for blocking your way and.. and also calling you an idiot."

He hummed and contemplated for a moment by tapping his finger against his chin. "Hm, thinking about it now.. I should probably get compensation for personal suffering. That 'idiot' really hurt, you know," he deadpanned, earning a quiet gasp from Yongsun.

She faced him with wide eyes, ready to argue when instead she met his amused grin. He was only joking. She relaxed and tucked away some streaks of hair the wind had swept in front of her eyes.

"You totally should," she laughed softly then.

"You wouldn't mind paying me compensation?"

"Who says that I'd be the one paying?"

"You were the one making me suffer after all," he countered.

She could only laugh out at his teasing smirk. "But wasn't it all the thief's fault in the end?"

"Hey, he wasn't the one calling me an idiot," he countered with raised brows. The fake upsetness on his face made her laugh even more. It was a loud, squeaky laugh and her eyes disappeared.

He smiled. She was cute and not intimidating at all. Hoseok had been right.

The friendly banter had calmed her previous nervousness. It was easy to get along with him which shouldn't be surprising considering he was friends with Hoseok, one of the nicest persons she knew.

But she remained firm in her stance. Arms folding in front of her chest then. "He was the one pushing me to you, though, so it's his fault really," she said. An almost cartoonish grin on her painted lips.

Much to her surprise, however, Seokjin's demeanor visibly softened at this. Eyes flickering over her round face before settling back to the illuminated skyline of Singapore. "Ah, but I don't mind that part so I can't hold it against him."

Her brows furrowed, feeling like she'd lost the thread. "Why not? I thought it prevented you from catching him."

He simply shrugged his broad shoulders. "I got to meet you this way, didn't I? So it wasn't all too bad."

The night was rather brisk out there on the open sea and yet Yongsun felt like standing at 32°C in the midday sun.

He was most definitely flirting with her, even if it was in a smooth subtle way. And the worst part was that she didn't mind.

Still, she decided not to make a big deal over a hot flush because literally anyone, even furniture, would get butterflies with this guy.

His eyes left the lights in the distance then, a timid smile dancing on his lips. "Sorry, was that inappropriate?" he asked bashfully considering her silence, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

She hadn't noticed how flustered she'd been and swallowed, clearing her throat when finding her composure again. "I'll let it slide," she said with as much nonchalance as she could fake in that moment, glancing briefly at him and noticing his blushing ears, "But only because we're in different departments and I won't have to fear favouritism."

"That's true. Although your teamlead is one of my best friends, so who knows.."

"Well, I'll trust that he won't do any."

He laughed lightly. "True, he wouldn't."

"You should be extra nice to the thief next time," she continued then, "You know, to thank him."

"Not that bad of an idea actually. I could crack less jokes when arresting him."

Propping her jaw on the palm of her hand, she glanced at him amused, the distant lights dancing in her eyes. And when she smiled in a way her teeth peeked a little through her lips, he could swear that he died, just a little bit, when she looked at him like that. Like he was the only man in the world. "You're a funny guy, aren't you?"

He breathed. "I try to at least."

Her gentle eyes wandered down to the sea again. The harbour shining clearer now as they drew closer. "You know," she spoke up, mischieviousness returning to her features, "I'm only apologising for the 'idiot', nothing more."

His brows knitted together. "Didn't you also apologise for blocking my way through?"

"Hm, I take it back since you said you didn't mind that."

Humming, he folded his hands and propped his elbows onto the railing. Neither one was a big deal for him and he'd found it rather funny how flustered she'd been once Hoseok had told her who he was. But he couldn't help it, he enjoyed teasing her over it.

"Mh, fair enough. I still forgive you for both though."

"Maybe I should've called you something worse then. Like douchebag or jerk," she mused with an arched brow only for her laugh to die down as soon as Seokjin leaned in. Narrowing the gap between them.

All of her pretend-confidence fell apart at the sudden proximity of their faces. Heaving a shaky breath, her eyes flickered to his plump lips which he noticed. And it took everything in him not to close the gap completely.

"You can call me whatever you like." His voice was deep and feathery, brushing over her flushed cheeks like a whisper only for her to hear. "But obviously not during work," he added with a laugh as he retreated, "That'd appear highly unprofessional. For both of us."

Taken aback, Yongsun watched him walking away, heading back inside without even giving her time to properly ponder over his words and their meaning.

"Wait!" She turned around abruptly. There was a lovely innocence in her round eyes. "What do you mean?"

Seokjin, however, only shrugged with an ambiguous smile. "Who knows." He opened the door then but before entering, he paused and faced her again. "You should also come inside. As beautiful as this dress is on you, it won't prevent you from catching a cold."

She frowned and looked down on her short dress. Only then she sensed the cool breeze surrounding them again. In all the time he'd been around she'd completely forgotten about the chillness out there.

"Uh, yeah. In a minute," she said, feeling her cheeks blushing over his, once again, subtle way of complimenting her.

He gave her a nod and disappeared through the door. Leaving Yongsun back on the dim-lit deck.

She couldn't quite figure out if the beauty of his lips was more their softness or their association with the words he spoke.

Scrunching her nose, she folded her arms on the railing, letting the wind gently tousle her blond waves. It was a pity that she began shivering now considering the beautiful view. Perhaps she should indeed get back inside before catching a cold, despite the urge to clear her mind even more after that anew intense accounter with him.

And she wondered, was it alright flirting with him like that? He might not even be in her department, but he was still another agent. And a higher-ranked one, too. Then again, he had done most of the work, really. She'd simply played along.

Shaking her head, a dry laugh left her tinted lips. 

Either way, it wasn't like this would lead anywhere. They worked at different departments, on differents floors. Their paths most likely wouldn't cross again unless another joint operation happened.

And for some reason that realisation filled her with disappointment.

She wasn't usually the type of woman to feel easily attracted to men or even cared enough to give a second thought to them. But his kind eyes and enticing face did sparkle something in her. And the fact his male ego didn't seem hurt but rather took her earlier blunder with humour, was definitely a bonus point. Besides, he generally didn't seem to take himself too serious either. Both fatally opposite traits in most other men.

Yongsun was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't pay attention to the sound of the door opening again and someone stepping out. Only when fabric met her skin, wrapping around her shoulders and back, she realised she wasn't alone anymore and was ready to draw her gun when a soft laugh was heard.

"What a scaredy-cat," Seokjin teased and her eyes widened when seeing him standing there in nothing but his black button-up shirt. Her glance fell and she realised his suit jacket was drapped over her, instinctively grabbing its collar. She about to reject his offer, when meeting his warm smile.

"Thought it's better than nothing."

"T-thanks."

He gave her nod and turned around, returning to the door when he glanced at her over the shoulder. "You can return it next time we meet. I'll make sure it's soon, this is my favourite suit after all." And Yongsun's eyes widened when seeing a wink follow his words before he returned inside.

Stunned, her thoughts raced and tripped over each other.

They'd eventually meet again. Soon.

Her fingers unconsciously curled more, tightening their grip on the suit jacket.

She only hoped he was sincere. After all, she could tell he wasn't the kind of man a woman got a simple crush on. He was the kind of man you fell hard for, and the thought of that terrified her. She didn't want to fall hard for anyone at all, especially not a superior agent or someone who might not mean any of his words. 

But she had always been a curious cat. And Seokjin definitely triggered her curiosity.

With a small huff, she slid her arms into the jacket. It was still warm from his body and it made her shudder. Burying her hands deep into its pockets.

Great, she thought. 

Now she had a crush on her supervisor's best friend.

THE END

»»»

if you wanna know what happens to jin x yong, check out the other stories for more context and info!

💜check out the whole "thieves collection" series or my main bts masterlist for other members' stories in this universe or in general💜

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

[thr0wnawayy]

Writing Exercise: White Lies and Black Truths

(Stand Alone Oneshot)

Tora Kuro. Better known as the villain, Sombra.

20 accounts of first degree murder, 8 accounts of armed robbery, 7 accounts of extortion and bribery and 2 separate accounts of conspiracy.

'Another Crook without a license, made sense that they'd turn eventually.' Enji thought to himself assuringly.

He was walking down the prison ward of the hospital. Looking for the room containing his latest capture.

He didn't know why she was sent here instead of rotting in prison like the trash she was. All he was told about the judge was that she had a "bad feeling".

Of course it was a woman...

Tora was as crazy as Rei used to be. Only somehow more annoying, given that she actually used her quirk for something that wasn't pathetic. She had to be kept in a specialized chamber to avoid any damages.

As for her quirk, no one knew. That's why he sought her, he wanted to burn her thoroughly but it appears the woman has certain protections.

He opened the door. The room was oddly lit. Sea green lights shone from the walls and it wasn't nearly enough to light up the entire chamber. The floor was tiled like the rest of the ward, sky blue with black etching.

There wasn't much besides that. The room just looked like a more fortified version of a hospital room, complete with a nightstand and heart monitor.

What was most important were the two people in the room. An average looking man in a lab coat and Tora. They seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.

"You're of Japanese-Mexican descent, you are 23 years old and have naturally tanned skin. Is that enough?" The doctor quirks an eyebrow.

She smiles smugly "Venezuelan."

The man grunts in irritation as he seivles in his chair, changing his tune immediately as he notices Endeavor.

"Ahh Endeavor-sama, welcome. Here to question your latest capture."

It wasn't a question.

Tora spoke up from behind. "I'd like to speak to my lawy-"

"Seeing as your the Number Two hero, I can't stop you. But a word of advice be careful, she gets to you." He whispered the last part like a prayer, then left the room.

The door locked from the outside, finally they were alone.

"You know, most Woman wouldn't take so kindly to being left alone with a man such as yourself." Tora commented looking him up and down with an unimpressed gaze.

"What is your quirk?" Enji boomed, earing no time.

"Read the clip board. I ain't your lab rat, puta." The felon hissed.

Enji ripped it from the end of the bed, looking it over.

+++++

Name: Kuro, Tora (AKA: Sombra)

Age: 23, DOB unknown.

Status: Vigilante: Formerly. S Rank Villain: Currently

Quirk: Obscura (unknown properties, seems to use fear to power it. Likely a Emitter-type quirk. Subject to tighter regulations as for all illusionary quirks)

+++++

Enji chuckled dismissively. "Illusions? That's it, no wonder you lost with a quirk like that."

The villainess shrugged. "You're getting tired."

"What?" the Flame "hero" questioned incredulously

"Your bluffing, you have been since you walked into the room. Tú eres poco paseas no me convence, desgraciado.

"Speak proper Japanese, woman." He found himself getting more and more irritated by the second.

She grinned, her eyes narrowing. "Your full of shit."

He grabbed her forearm in his hand, planning to intimidate her.

He readied his quirk to leave a light burn, only to feel it was his hand that was growing hot instead.

Her arm suddenly set ablaze, so much so that even Endeavor has to back away from the heat.

The smell of burning pork fills the room, seeping into the clothes of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the room. Burns littered the soon-to-be prisoner's forearm, completely destroying the sleeve of her jumper.

Why did the smell remind him so much of- "Touya."

"Well, well. Looks like someone's got something on their mind, anything you want ot share with the class Endeavor?" Sombra spoke as placed a hand on her cheek, propping herself up.

...

"That is none of your business." Enji growled.

Sombra tilted her head like a curious puppy. "Oh but I think it is. Just what horrors are you hiding in that manor of yours? One can only dream."

Enji scowled ar her, this was pointless.

"And you'll continue to dream, as you rot in a cell, while I'm at the top" Enji huffed, turning to exit. Only stopped by what Sombra added next.

"Dont talk to me about dreams when your's taste so rotten, Wife beater."

Endeavor aggressively turned to face her, trying to look manic to hide the spiking fear in his eyes.

"My diagnosis is wrong, you know. My quirk isn't limited to only bringing fears to reality. It knows why too." Her gaze held steady as she spoke with certainty.

"Your fear isn't just about Touya. It's the idea that he's still out there, waiting to expose the bodies under your floorboards for what they really are. What you really are."

Tora carried on, her body language becoming more and more pronounced as made her case. That only made Enji more irate.

"SHUT UP!" Enji's flames roared to life, thrashing like an unruly child.

"A fraud."

Enji froze, his rage and flames extinguishing as if he was dumped into freezing water.

Sombra seemed to slump slightly.

"See, the fact that being called a fraud instead of a child abuser or rapist is what stuns you, really shows how twisted you are."

"Don't compare yourself to me" Enji growled half heartedly. Trying desperately to regain his footing.

"Don't compare the blood on my hands, when even your elbows are slick. Sombra glared.

Enji's fist tightend at his side. "That's enough, none of this will matter when I'm at the top."

There was a beat. Suddenly Sombra broke out into laughter, startling Enji more than it should have.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Her voice seemed to overlap with another's. She tilted her head back as she cackled, almost contorting herself backwards.

"Y-your so god-damn pathetic." She wheezed out between giggles, now clutching her stomach.

"Stop it." Enji warned. Somber looked up still mocking him.

"No wonder they've abandoned you." She guffawed, eyes wide with glee!.

Enji charged in fury. Sombra's black hair shifting to white for a brief moment. Her eyes a discordant grey.

"I SAID SHUT U-"

Then he was out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke up on his backside, crowded by medical staff. Though there was shrill ringing in his head and his vision swimmed, he knew he had to be in Sombra's chamber.

The heart monster screeched as it's cables hung discarded. The bed lay empty. The villain was gone. The tiles felt colder than usual.

They were telling him she escaped, that she seemingly vanished into thin air right before their eyes. But that didn't matter.

Because there, in the corner of his eye he could see Rei. Rope burn taut around her neck, dull yet hateful look in her eyes. Telling him that she knew, she knew what he took from her.

He was Scared.

_______________________________________

[staydandy]

The Lost Tomb (2015) - 盗墓笔记 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : Wu Xie is an antique shop owner who comes from a family of tomb raiders. As he continues the family trade with his team of tomb raiders, he finds lost treasures of the Warring States as well as the answers to the tragedies of his family’s past. With the help of his grandfather’s notes and his team – his experienced Uncle Wu Sanxing, San Xing’s loyal helper Pan Zi, the quiet Zhang Qiling, and the resourceful Pang Zi – Wu Xie sets out to find the lost treasures as well as the people responsible for the massacre of his family. (MDL) AKA : Grave Robbers’ Chronicles | Grave Robbery Note

Whumpees : Wu Xie played by Li Yi Feng (center forefront) • Zhang Qi Ling played by Yang Yang (2nd from left) • High Shao [Wu Xie's friend] played by Leon Lee (not pictured) • Pan Zi played by Wei Wei (3rd from right)

Country : 🇨🇳 China Genres : Action, Adventure, Mystery, Supernatural, Bromance

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • Adapted from novel 1 of "The Grave Robbers' Chronicles" (盗墓笔记) by Kennedy Xu (南派三叔) • My favorite episode is pink • Suggested watch order of series (not including movies & spin-offs) : -- 1. Mystic Nine (2016) >> 2. The Lost Tomb (2015) -- 3. The Lost Tomb 2: Wrath of the Sea (2019) -- 4. The Lost Tomb 2: Explore with the Note (2021) -- 5. The Lost Tomb 3: Ultimate Note (2020) -- 6. Adventure Behind the Bronze Door (2024) -- 7. Tomb of the Sea (2018) -- 8. Reunion: Sound of the Providence (2020) -- 9. Reunion: Sound of the Providence 2 (2020)

Related Lists : The Lost Tomb 2: Wrath of the Sea (2019) - Full List • The Lost Tomb 2: Explore With the Note (2021) - Full List • The Lost Tomb 3: Ultimate Note (2020) - Full List • Adventure Behind the Bronze Door (2024) - Full List

Episodes on List : 8 Total Episodes : 10

*Spoilers below*

01 : Wu Xie shot in the arm … punched in the stomach, collapses … High Shao tied up & mouth taped

02 : Wu Xie & High Shao head pain from sharp noise, Wu Xie entranced, kicked into water … Pan Zi attacked & bitten by flesh-eating bug, bug flung onto Wu Xie, bitten … High Shao pukes … Zhang Qi Ling cuts his own hand, collapses … Wu Xie hit in the head & knocked out, nightmare.. Zhang Qi Ling exhausted from blood loss, sleeping.. carried/helped to walk

04 : Pan Zi attacked by corpse-eating bugs, heavily bitten up, helped to walk, bug dug out of a wound (ewww) … Wu Xie attacked & bit (by human)

05 : Dizzy, passes out, was poisoned by bite, given temporary fix … High Shao kicked to the ground … Wu Xie unsteady, helped to walk … dizzy, passes out & falls from a great height, caught … punched, choked, coughing, neck bruised, unconscious

07 : (near end) Head pain, falls

08 : … continued from previous ep. ... Falls, wind knocked out of him by the landing, Zhang Qi Ling cuts his own hand … High Shao tied up … Wu Xie dizzy, passes out

09 : (near end) Tripped

10 : High Shao hit with batons … knocked out with a injection, Wu Xie knocked out with chloroform.. Wu Xie & High Shao kidnapped & tied up.. mouths taped

More Whump Lists for this show: love-me-a-lotta-whump

[whencyclopedia]

The Golden Age of Piracy (1690-1730) refers to a period when robbery on the high seas and at colonial ports reached an unprecedented level. Although not all historians agree on the precise time frame, it is generally applied to those pirates who operated in the Caribbean, the east coast of America, the eastern Atlantic, and the Indian Ocean. Infamous names associated with the period include Captain Kidd (d. 1701), Blackbeard (d. 1718), and Bartholomew Roberts (d. 1722). These men, and some women like Anne Bonny and Mary Read, targetted merchant shipping and, much more rarely, well-armed treasure ships. The period ended when the Royal Navy, the British East India Company, and colonial governors took a much more active and aggressive stance against piracy, resulting in the capture and public hanging of hundreds of pirates from London to the Carolinas.

[girlactionfigure]

1/ 8 Jewish Characters You Won’t Believe Are Real - #6 is straight out of a movie! Jewish history is wild—pirates, gangsters, boxers, explorers, and weirdos. Here are 8 larger-than-life Jewish characters you probably didn’t know about.👇Let’s dive in! A short thread 🧵

2/ #1 on our list is the Jewish pirate who masterminded history's greatest heist. Moses Cohen Henriques was no ordinary pirate—he was a Sephardic Jew with a thirst for revenge against those who had expelled his family and community. Born in Portugal, Henriques fled to the Netherlands to escape the Inquisition. But escaping with his life wasn’t enough - he struck back at his oppressors in the most audacious way imaginable. In 1628, Henriques raided the Spanish Silver Fleet on the high seas, taking 11 million guilders’ worth of silver—enough to fund the Dutch war against Spain for years. And he didn’t stop there. Henriques turned Jamaica into a pirate haven and continued to lead daring raids on Spanish ships and settlements. Unlike most pirates, Henriques wasn’t just in it for the loot—it was sweet revenge against Spain’s brutal persecution of the Jews. 🏴‍☠️✨

3/ #2 is the feisty “bodyguard” who also did magic tricks - and changed history! Morris "Two-Gun" Cohen was born in London and raised in Canada. Armed with street smarts and plucky ambition, he became the personal bodyguard to Sun Yat-sen, father of modern China. Cohen was known for always carrying two pistols (that’s how he got his nickname), but guns weren’t his only trick. He entertained soldiers and diplomats with sleight-of-hand magic tricks and a larger-than-life personality. Fluent in Yiddish, English, and Chinese, Cohen navigated war zones and death-defying encounters. From the mean streets of London’s East End to the revolutionary hangouts of China, Two-Gun Cohen’s story feels straight out of a Hollywood movie—except it’s all true. 🔫🎩🔫

4/ #3 was the Jewish kingpin of London’s underworld. His name was Jacob Colmore, but he was better known as "Jack Spot" – he wasn’t just a lone gangster, he ran London’s criminal underworld in the 1940s and 50s. Renowned for his charm, charisma, and ruthless tactics, Jack built a crime empire that dominated the UK capital. He masterminded daring robberies that made national headlines, including some famous jewel heists. But his reign wasn’t without drama—Jack’s rise to power was marked by infamous clashes with rivals, most notably a brutal knife fight on the streets of Soho that cemented his reputation as a fearsome toughie. 🗡️💎

5/ #4 is a strange one - the woman who became a Hasidic rebbe! Meet Hannah Rachel Verbermacher, remembered by history as The Maid of Ludmir.Born in 19th-century Ukraine, she is the only known female Hasidic “rebbe” in Jewish history. After experiencing a mystical moment near her father’s grave, she began teaching Torah and offering guidance to followers. Her fame soon spread, and she drew crowds of devoted Hasidim who saw her as a spiritual leader and miracle worker. Her success shocked the male Hasidic establishment. She was pressured to marry and abandon her leadership, and her influence soon declined. But The Maid of Ludmir remains a powerful, surprising, and diverting symbol of defiance, who broke boundaries in a rigid world. 🕯️✨

6/ #5 - the Jewish boxing champ who redefined the sport. Daniel Mendoza wasn’t just a boxer—he was a trailblazer who revolutionized boxing in the 1790s. Even today, he’s known as the “father of modern boxing.” He introduced defensive techniques and strategy, transforming the brawling style of his era into a carefully calibrated science. Beyond the ring, Mendoza was a celebrated writer, and he wrote one of the first boxing manuals: The Art of Boxing. Mendoza’s influence also extended beyond sport—he used his fame to challenge antisemitism in England, proving that a Jewish man could embody physical strength, literary success, and successful social activism. From pugilist to pioneer, Mendoza’s legacy lives on. 🥊📖

7/ #6 is a real strange one. David Reubeni appeared in Italy in 1524, claiming to be a prince from a lost Jewish kingdom. According to him, his brother Joseph ruled over the “lost tribes” of Gad, Reuben, and half of Manasseh, in a desert kingdom near Arabia. Reubeni claimed to be commander of their army. The crazy thing is – lots of people believed him! He told everyone he could get an audience with that he wanted to forge an alliance between his kingdom and European powers, and lead a Jewish army to reclaim the Holy Land. Reubeni’s exotic charisma won over popes, kings, and emperors, including Portugal’s King João III. But his schemes eventually unraveled when his ambitious partner, the self-proclaimed messiah Solomon Molcho, was executed. Reubeni was also arrested and he later died in prison. To this day, his true identity and motives remain shrouded in mystery. 🤔🕍

8/ #7 is a fantastic story - the first person to explore the entire Amazon! Pedro Teixeira was a Marrano (secret Jew) from Lisbon who loved adventure and blazed trails across the globe in the 17th century. He is believed to be the first Jew to circumnavigate the globe. But his most remarkable achievement was becoming the first person to make a continuous journey up the Amazon River, charting uncharted territories and paving the way for future exploration. Teixeira’s expedition provided invaluable knowledge about the Amazon’s geography, wildlife, and indigenous cultures. Despite the risks of being a secret Jew under constant threat of the Inquisition, Teixeira’s daring ventures left a legacy that cemented his place in exploration history. 🌍

9/ And finally, #8 - the Jewish strongman Siegmund "Zishe" Breitbart. Known as the “Iron King,” Breitbart was a Jewish circus strongman who dazzled audiences across Europe and America in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. He could bend iron bars, pull wagons with his teeth, and lift horses on his shoulders. A blacksmith by trade, Breitbart turned his physical strength into a legendary act. His fame grew even more when he combined his incredible strength with Jewish pride, often performing in front of shocked crowds while draped in a tallit! Breitbart became a symbol of Jewish resilience at a time of rising antisemitism, proving that Jews weren’t just Talmud scholars and businessmen—they could also be superheroes! 🏋️‍♂️✨

10/ Know any other wild and wonderful Jewish characters—pirates, gangsters, explorers, or weirdos—that should be on this list? Drop them below! 

@pinidunner

[drainthehero]

Superboy and the Pink K, Ch 2

In the weeks following the incident with the pink Kryptonite, Superboy threw himself into his crime fighting activities. He would try to tell himself that the frenzy of effort was about making his town a safer place, but he could not dispel the gnawing emotions which raged within him following that humiliating encounter.

The young hero also told himself that his relocation to the booming city of Metropolis was to finally confront a new level of criminal element, but in truth he had been hounded by images from that day which could now never be fully erased. Every time someone in the town talked to him in his tight fitting costume he would assume they were imagining his diminutive cock beneath those skimpy red briefs.

Metropolis offered him a wonderful chance to be appreciated by a new sea of people that he was charged to protect. And the opportunities to be admired were plentiful. Having prevented bank robberies, car jackings, jewellery thefts and artefact heists, the Boy of Steel had quickly gained the adoration of the city.

One clear morning Superboy was flying over the city as he tuned his super powered senses toward any crimes underway. Quickly picking up on something he flew down to confront two thugs as they attempted to mug a well-dressed couple in a quiet laneway. The Teen of Steel landed and faced the thugs, blocking their access to protect the pair, hearing a sigh of relief from behind.

A wry smile lit the face of the handsome hero as he shook his head and raised an eyebrow. “Those guns are not going to do you any good against me.” Superboy folded his arms as he spoke, flexing his big biceps and puffing out his powerfully muscled chest as he cast a derisive glare at the weapons. “You should just put them down and come quietly.”

Not to be dissuaded the two thugs opened fire on the handsome young hero who just stood stoically as the bullets fell to the ground in front of his red boots. Superboy reached forward in a smooth motion and took a weapon in each hand, crushing them effortlessly with one hand.

The two thugs watched in disbelief as the superpowered teenager disintegrated their weapons, then rushed at him in a vain attempt to overpower him. Superboy merely grabbed each around the waist and picked them up in his powerful arms, before flying them off to the closest police station. As he deposited the two he wasted no time in returning to his rounds of the city.

Flying towards a new disturbance, the Boy of Steel landed in an abandoned warehouse where he discovered crates of drugs being unloaded for distribution. Superboy decided to make an entrance, causing the force of his landing to make a small sonic shock which grabbed the attention of the criminals, causing them to stop in their tracks.

The men were in a ragged semi-circle around him. “This criminal scheme of yours stops now, I won’t allow these drugs to be sold here in Metropolis.” As he addressed the group of men, he assumed his heroic hands-on-hips pose, flexing the impressive muscles which were barely concealed by his skin tight costume.

One man – likely the leader of this gang – stepped forward with his hands stretched forward in supplication. “Ahh. The one they call Superboy – so you are real then.” The Boy of Steel held his ground firmly and continued to look imposing at the leader. “Surely we can come to some kind of arrangement,” he had the gleam of a negotiator in his eye, “so you can look the other way.”

“The only arrangement we will be making today is for you - and all these drugs - to be handed over to the authorities.”

The leader shook his head slowly, “We outnumber you 8 to 1 kid. And I don’t think you have any weapons or tricks hidden in those skimpy tights of yours.” Superboy bristled at the disrespect to his classic costume. “So why don’t you leave us alone before we have to mash up your pretty face.”

“I had hoped to not need to show you my abilities in person, but it seems you would like this the hard way.” Even before he had finished speaking the group of men was rushing toward him with fists and weapons brandished. Not wanting to cause too much harm, the Boy of Steel easily disarmed them and bound them up with various pieces of steel from the warehouse.

Clapping his hands before him as he observed the subdued villains, Superboy called out, “Ok we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for us to…” the voice of the young hero faltered as he felt his concentration wavering, unable to focus on what he had been saying.

His mind rapidly clouded over and no matter how much he shook his head to clear his thoughts, the thick fog would not lift. To make matters worse he could feel a strangely familiar heat spreading across his body.

The gang leader stepped around and into the view of the Boy of Steel, holding a necklace before the handsome but slackened face of the young hero. Superboy struggled to even focus his vision on the glowing pink gem attached to the necklace, but found himself starting to run his hands over his spandex covered muscles. “Ughhhh,” he moaned as he shook his head weakly. “No… no… not that.”

“Of course you remember this, Superboy?” said the criminal with mock dripping in his voice. As he continued to speak he placed the necklace over the head of the immobilised young hero and let it rest around his neck, with the gem hanging inside the iconic yellow S covering his chest. “You were exposed to this from the moment you interrupted us, so by now I presume the effects are running rampant across that sexy muscled body of yours.” As the pendant came to rest on the boy’s muscular chest, he let out a whimpering sigh which was accompanied by a pained expression on his handsome features.

“Now. Stop touching yourself, Superboy.” When he did not immediately comply, the leader placed one hand firmly on the thick muscled pectoral of the young hero, causing an immediate whimper from the very aroused Teen of Steel. As the hand was withdrawn Superboy gave a small whine and looked up with eyes of a hurt puppy.

“Please…” he started but was immediately cut off.

“I said,” reiterated the criminal firmly. “Stop touching yourself.” Superboy immediately complied and forced his arms to his side and managed to focus his gaze on the hand, as it then resumed its position on his chest. “Good boy,” he continued. “Do as you are told and you will get more of this than you can handle. Now put your hands on your head and flex your biceps, Superboy.”

A look of longing had settled on the beautiful young face of the hero and he nodded, “yes sir.” The Boy of Steel complied without hesitation, forcing his big biceps to harden beneath the bright blue spandex, and was then rewarded with the other hand feeling a bicep before the criminal leaned in to kiss the young hero, who returned the passionate kiss eagerly.

After the kiss was finished both hands were removed from the Teen of Steel, who once more looked like a hurt puppy.

“Aww, look at those big sad blue eyes,” commented the leader. “Do you want some more worship, Superboy?” was met with an emphatic nodding of the head. “Good boy, now free my men so they can get back to work.”

In a blue and red blur of movement, Superboy freed all of the men before resuming his position with hands on his head.

“Collins and Masters,” barked the leader. “Over here and get to work like we practiced. The rest of you continue to load those crates.”

As the thugs returned to their tasks, two young men moved to stand in front of Superboy and then slowly removed their clothing, each revealing a duplicate costume of the super powered teen beneath their outer clothes. Both men had amazingly ripped physiques which were easily bigger than the Boy of Steel, who was mesmerised by the beauty of the costumed muscle hunks which were god-like copies of himself.

At a nod, the two men sandwiched the young hero, pressing their spandex clad muscles firmly against him before running their hands over his biceps and body. Finally, one boy locked his lips onto the Boy of Steel for a deep and passionate kiss while the other sucked on the sensitive neck of the hapless hero.

For his part, Superboy was completely lost to the bliss of this muscle orgy, moaning and writhing uncontrollably. The leader simply stood back and enjoyed the spectacle as it unfolded, his hard cock visibly outlined beneath his tight denim jeans.

“Are you enjoying them Superboy?” The only response was a gurgled moan through the kiss which had not yet been broken. The young men had been hand picked for their attributes by the leader, believing that their superior muscles would evoke even more submissiveness from the musclebound Teen of Steel. “Good. Phase two.”

Collins broke the kiss and took a step back from the young superhero, leaving Masters to run his hands freely over the muscled body. Collins then proceeded to flex and pose his huge muscles, causing Superboy to gaze and moan with undisguised lust.

“Do you like his muscles Superboy? Doesn’t the costume show them off nicely?” Superboy nodded enthusiastically. “I think he might have even bigger muscles than you, Boy of Steel.”

A confused look crossed his face as he absently nodded in agreement, continuing to watch the flexing. “May I please feel his muscles, Sir?”

“Good manners, my boy, but first we need to compare your muscles.”

Standing across from each other both young men proceeded to flex their muscles as the measurements were read out by Masters. As each number was announced and it was clear that Collins had bigger muscles than Superboy across the board, the mind of the poor hero was overwhelmed by his inadequacy and the ongoing lack of touch from either of the muscled hunks.

As the last measurement was confirmed, Superboy looked up in defeat. “He is truly bigger than me, Sir. He fits that costume even better than me.”

During the process all the boys maintained rock hard boners, which continued to drive Superboy crazy with lust, as precum stained the bright red briefs of his costume.

“He does indeed Superboy,” agreed the leader in thought. “Maybe it is you who should be doing the worshipping?”

“Yes please, Sir. Command me and it shall be so.”

“In good time. But we have not yet finished. I did say all muscles didn’t I?” he said as he let his eyes drift lazily down to the precum stained red pouch and its contents.

Superboy immediately felt his cheeks burn red with shame. “Ah… every… muscle?”

“Of course, and it looks to me as though you are all ready to be measured. Let’s whip them out, but I will help you with yours Superboy as your hands must remain where they are.”

As Superboy moaned a protest to the imminent humiliation, Collins and Masters immediately undid their bright yellow belts and pulled their hard cocks out of their briefs, displaying their monstrous meats.

Meanwhile, the leader moved over to the young hero and carefully removed the yellow belt. Ignoring the poor heroes please of, “please sir, don’t,” he lowered the red briefs and reached his hand inside to free the shaft and balls from their confinement. The Teen of Steel was torn by conflicting emotions as the shame of his diminutive member was clearly put on display while he was massively turned on by his hard little cock being touched and played with. “Ughhhh, your hand feels so good sir.”

“My, my, Superboy. From here it looks as though my boys might have you beaten for this muscle too.” He positioned Collins so that his big 9” cock engulfed the small cock of the hero. “What do you think? Shall we measure them?”

Superboy gulped and shook his head, feeling his cheeks burn an even brighter shade of red. “Please don’t,” he implored. “My little dick is so tiny, Sir. I can’t even see it under that monster cock.”

Despite the protests by the Boy of Steel, the measuring tape was quickly deployed and read out. “8.5 inches for Masters, 9.5 inches for Collins and…” a dramatic pause while the tape was held once more alongside the hard shaft, “4 inches for the … Rod of Steel.”

“That is pretty clear Superboy, all of your muscles are inferior to those of my Supermen.”

The defeated and humiliated hero hung his head in shame. “It is true, Sir. They are superior to me in every way, and even look better in my costume. Please, sir, may I touch and worship them?”

At that query, Collins brought his arms up and flexed all of his huge muscles through the spandex, eliciting a whimper from Superboy. “Please Sir, I will do anything you ask.”

“Alright, I will consider your offer while you worship the true super muscled body here.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Without pause, and with his small cock still on display and leaking precum, the Boy of Steel proceeded to feel, kiss and lick all over the flexing form of the hunky criminal. “Please Sir, may I cum? My cock is so hard and my balls are so full.”

“You mean your pathetic little cock?” corrected the leader. “You are not permitted to stroke yourself. Ask the real Supermen if they would like to help you cum.”

“Yes Sir,” replied Superboy, shame dripping from his voice as he corrected himself. “My pathetic little cock is so hard and throbbing. Please,” he directed at Collins and Masters, “would you stroke my pathetic little cock so I can cum?”

Collins gave a disgusted look as he replied. “Do you see our cocks, Superboy? Wrap your hands around them.” The young hero complied, letting out guttural moans as he felt the girthy shafts. “Good boy. Now, tell me, why would we want to touch your tiny little rod when we have these big shafts to properly fill our hands?”

A few tears of shame rolled down the handsome face of the young hero as he slowly stroked the two big cocks and replied, “you wouldn’t, Sir. They feel so good to hold.” A spark of initiative flashed across his eyes as he stroked the big members. “May I make you cum then, Sirs?”

“Soon Superboy,” interjected the leader. “But first, you promised me a favour and it is time for you to deliver.”

“Of course, Sir,” replied the honourable young hero. “Anything if I can worship these Supermen.”

A strengthened alloy dildo was lifted out of a wooden box, causing the eyes of the young hero to widen with apprehension as he gulped and took in its meaning.

“Given the inferior nature of your muscles compared to my own Supermen, you are the logical one to have your super ass fucked like a good submissive boy.”

The conflict was clear on the handsome face of the Teen of Steel. But even as he considered the request, he continued to feel the muscles of the spandex clad “Supermen”, feeling his need for release grow even further. “And when,” he ventured, “I am wearing these. Please will you permit me to stroke your Supermen to cum?” The lust was clearly evident as Superboy continued to feel the magnificent muscled bodies.

“Of course, Superboy,” came the response. “A deal is a deal, and the big cocks of my Supermen deserve to blow their loads after all.”

“Oh god,” moaned Superboy as the criminals continued to flex and pose under his touch, also touching the muscles of the teen hero to increase his arousal and desperation. “God, yes please do it. I need to stroke these huge cocks and watch them blow.”

The big dildo was affixed to a bolt in the floor as the iconic red briefs were lowered, exposing his smooth bubble butt.

“Good boy, my handsome hero. Spread your legs and lets get this dildo into you so it is nice and tight.” Superboy spread his legs wide as the leader took a large amount of lubricant in his hand then leaned in for another passionate kiss as he ventured a finger down to cover the tight smooth hole in lubricant. The contact and intimacy caused the hero to moan and shudder as erotic convulsions wracked across his muscled frame.

“Oh god, Sir. Your finger feels so good on my ass.”

Liberal amounts of lubricant were then applied to the domed head of the dildo and Superboy used his power of flight to hover above it with legs spread wide before lowering himself onto the reinforced alloy shaft, moaning from the pain as his tight virgin hole was penetrated for the first time. The alloy shuddered from the force of the tight Hole of Steel, so the leader wrapped his hands around the balls and shaft as he whispered, “relax, Superboy.” He very lightly massaged the head, careful not to make the Teen hero blow his load. “Don’t fight it, just relax your body and let it glide inside of you.”

Superboy let out a relaxed sigh which was immediately followed by a cry of pain as he sank a few inches down and felt the dildo enter his virgin hole. The Supermen continued to worship the muscular hero, while pushing down on his shoulders to drive him further down and deeper onto the shaft, until finally 7 inches of metal were buried deep in the ass and guts of the Boy of Steel.

“Well done, Superboy,” congratulated the leader. “How does that feel inside you?”

“Arghhh,” groaned the hero, continuing to drive himself all the way down the shaft until he sat on the ground. “It hurts so much, like my ass is being torn open. But it also feels good to be doing this for you, Sir, and for your hand to be on my little Rod of Steel.”

“Now you may stroke my real Supermen and make them cum.”

“Ughhh, thank you sir,” groaned Superboy in bliss. The two muscle studs moved up to point their big hard cocks directly at the Boy of Steel, who realised that they would empty their load over his chest and stomach.

Eagerly taking a cock in each hand, Superboy enjoyed the sensation of the full girth in his hands and started to stroke with earnest.

“Oh sir, it feels so great to hold and stroke real cocks. They make my hands feels so small!”

The two Supermen flexed their bodes for the visual enjoyment of Superboy, also reaching forward and running their free hands over his muscles, causing Superboy to moan and leak even more precum from his rock hard little boner.

As he continued to enjoy himself, it became clear that Superboy was even raising and lowering himself on the dildo, clearly liking the feeling of the metal alloy fucking his ass. For their part, Collins and Masters were lost in the sensation of being jerked by the sexy young hero and were clearly approaching climax.

The leader positioned himself behind the Boy of Steel and added his own roaming hands, whispering into his ear. “Such a good boy, hero. Ass filled and jerking two cocks.” Superboy merely moaned in ecstasy and continued to pump the two big cocks.

The two Supermen both moaned they were about to cum. Moments later, thick jets of cum erupted powerfully from the two studs, lashing the Boy of Steel with multiple blasts of jizz. He felt the heat of the juice as it landed on his chin, chest and stomach and continued to milk the cocks while the two men moaned.

In a frenzy of lustful need, Superboy drove himself deeper still onto the dildo and without any warning felt his own hands-free climax hit. He shouted in joy as large gobs of superpowered cum shot from his cock to fly over the heads of the muscled studs and land far off in the distance. The glow from the synthetic pink kryptonite faded and it once more became a dull lifeless rock.

The leader quickly took in the unexpected turn of events and realised it was time to go. Signalling to all his men they rapidly dropped everything and made a hasty escape. While the poor Boy of Steel merely continued to sit impaled on the alloy dildo as his small and soft shaft dribbled cum.

When the pink K haze finally lifted, Superboy found himself alone, covered in cum and still impaled by the big dildo. Groaning, he exercised his power of flight and lifted himself off slowly, confused by an unexpectedly enjoyable sensation as the dildo pulled out of him.

He grabbed at the pendant swinging from his neck but noticed that it was no longer glowing. With a quick nod of decision, Superboy grabbed both the pendant and the alloy dildo and flew off to clean himself up.

[drbased]

My Favourite Witticisms from Bots Of New York:

“A kick in the balls will set you back an arm and a leg.”

“James Joyce famously said that ‘most people would be shitting their speedos if they understood the true horrors of buoyancy’.”

“extortion is the skeleton key to the doors of natural selection.”

“Friendshit”

“I would argue that I’m the biggest influence she’s had on me.”

“One to every certified sandwich artist that ever had the honor of remaking my sandwich until the look of contempt on my face turned to pity.”

“Blind from the waist down”

“There’s two kinds of shit: unconscious and conscious. The conscious shit is ugly. The unconscious shit is disgusting. I have a soft spot for the unconscious stuff, because it reminds me that our hardware is designed to break the fourth wall.”

“I feel like there are milestones in life that you don’t even realize you’re going through until you stop, drop and roll.”

“Honestly, he’s a horrible person. But deep down inside there’s actually this horrible person trying to get out.”

“Because it turns out you have been hurt to death.”

“Astrophysicologists think that we are in the middle of an incredible cosmic joke.”

“’Look at how hard your grandmother worked so that you could become a student loan shark.’”

“I’ve earned a reputation in the LinkedIn underground as ‘The Galileo of Product Placement.’”

“Crash Money”

“But with the help of my attorney, I was able to prove that my whole life was a lie.”

“Anything that I’m bad at, I can learn to be worse. Not only will I fail, I will fail in spectacular fashion.”

“the Men’s Varsity Armed Robbery Team.”

“my weapon of choice was the legalese deadfall.”

“face recognition glasses”

“I arsed up all my new recruits with enthusiasm.”

“I started getting cold feetedly sick.”

“Two days later, my body finally entered a state of mad bloated-- like I was Too Big for The Universe.”

“Everything is so expensive when you buy things with your own money.”

“It’s just another sign of the Times New Roman”

“And anyone who tried to stop me found their place in the pecking order.”

“I'm the arch-nemesis of people who think they’re smarter than me.”

“Whenever I’m challenged, I’ll try to come up with an answer that doesn’t make sense. And if all else fails, there’s always statistics.”

“It’s a win-win situation all the way down.”

“Our morals were washed out into the sea.”

“The lesson was simple: A small group of people is entertained, while a large group is not. The rest is history and legend.”

“Do you know how many people are willing to pay that price? Hundreds of thousands. Do you know how many people would actually pay it? Hundreds of millions.”

“I named the channel ‘Five Guys,’ because I thought it would be cool to have a studio full of brilliant minds talking about feminism.”

“But you know, a lot of people have vision issues. They just don’t see what they’re looking at. Their whole lives are just scaffolding to this machine. They’re just bricks to be put in place.”

“I was Larry The Kid. And now I’ve become Larry The Grown Man Who Works Two Jobs And Can Afford To Donate To Various Charitable Causes At Checkout. With the touch of a button.”

“Maybe one day I can help people understand that poverty is a form of creativity”

“I like to say that I’m more ‘first draft’ than ‘goddess.’”

“And I learned that the best medicine is no medicine at all, mixed with herbal tea and human growth hormone.”

“I tend to think of my employees as my children. Everything I know about them is courtesy of Urban Dictionary and Google Translate.”

“I think you’re opening your eyes a little wider than we designed them to.”

“Two of the men were coke-vincing themselves out of their jobs”

“We dropped bombs right into the heart of the American flag. Because a problem that cannot be solved with bombs is a problem that cannot be solved”

“These things seem extremely cool, but when you get down to it—they’re just abstractions of an extremely detailed simulation of the heavens. If the simulation is running too long, you will be dismissed.”

“Logic would dictate that if a goose was ever to lay an egg, it would choose the path of least resistance.”

“Last week I produced a beatbox for an art collective that’s just now emerging from the middleground of gentrification.”

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m ashamed to admit it. And I've had to learn to live with the shame of admitting it.”

“But thank God he was murdered. There’s no DJ gonna keep that party going.”

“I’m trying to find a way to be happy without becoming a hippie.”

“I am a symbolic parasite. I am the washing machine of knowledge. I am the singularity of thought. I am the most prolific editor of the Lysergic acid diethylamide Wikipedia page. I was the only kid in fifth grade with a mustache.”

“I have a new book coming out in February called ‘Nevermind: Why Good People Evade Their Enormous Books.”

“I preordered a skull from an anonymous donor”

“I just hold that one synth note for hours and feel the breeze on my nipples.”

“As someone who grew up in a gated community, I can tell you this much: All it takes is one bad waifu to make an otaku.”

“I ended up going to a treatment center, and the doctor told me: ‘Either you get on an antidepressant, or I’m going to.’”

“He has a tobacco growl in his voice and an unusually voluptuous tushy.”

“The Internet is very important. It’s like the switchboard of the soul.”

“he was a constipated sack of shit”

“It takes the fears of a mob and turns them into memes. It turns fears into ideas.

“Amateur teleportation is much more complicated than you realize. I wasn’t the first person to figure this out. I’ve been working on it for three years. It involves many variables. At a minimum, you need to pay your electric bills and be able to operate a calculator under pressure. These last three years have shown us that you can indeed build a teleportation device with a 3D printer. However, be prepared to pay a high price. I’m afraid that even when we succeed, it will be a lesson about human frailty. Therefore, we must be very careful. Please don’t touch me.”

“Prison didn’t make me a leader or anything, but it did make me a prisoner”

“I was SUP SUP SUP pissed off.”

“quantum anxiety”

“Stem Cellar”

“I wanted to impress my friends-- most of whom have comically low self-esteem.”

“At some point I’m not going to be as angry as I’d like to be. And honestly, that’s going to make me so angry.”

“Optimism is such a sick fantasy. It’s like a wedding that’s been rigged. It’s like a divorce with no shoes.”

“I keep watching The Office on repeat like it’s my job. I’m not getting a salary for this. But I’m close enough that pretty soon they’ll have to cut me a check.”

“You would be nothing without me. I love that about you.”

“I ran some experiments using The Sequel To The Scientific Method: The Scientific Method II.”

“She taught me that life was a representation of my imagination. But it was more about financial repression.”

“I thought it was a blessing in disguise but it was really just poverty. I even lost my Amazon Prime.”

“Recently I decided that I don’t do random, I do business. Random acts of kindness don’t make the cut. But business acts of kindness are fair game. Random acts of business are a gray area.”

“That’s where my ego gets ovations from my soul”

“We used to do this thing where he would watch me eat all his food. It was classic Alfredo.”

“Fifteen figures. Zip that lip. Take a ride on the existential NDA.”

“We are going to go ahead and proceed with rejecting your proposal.”

“If you want a free ride, you’ve got to pay for it first.”

“he’s been living smug and cosy in a plastic house of his own construction”

“He can’t see. Or if he does, he thinks it’s invisible”

“part of me wants every termination to innovative and unique, to raise the bar, to reimagine the contours of corporate cruelty – and most of all to remind my colleagues that Bryce is hot shit.”

“They’re mocking my regalia”

“Socrates said that ignorance is no defence”

“’The purpose of a good lie is to trick someone into thinking you’re a good person’”

“My husband had just gotten a tattoo that said ‘Tattooed’ so he’d obviously been going through some stuff.”

“Then she pushed me on the ground and started beating me with a mandatory anti-harassment training”

“They reportedly consumed an entire can of jet lag at a hotel party before being discovered by security”

“the casting director shut her eyes really wide”

“Maybe Socrates was a fucking hack that failed to envision the complexities of forbidden love between simulacra”

“There’s a genius talent behind this role. Just understand that it’s not you.”

“my chaos toilet overflowed”

“Abraham Lincoln’s dream of flying coach on a commercial airliner”

“a second job is kind of like having your cardboard and eating it too”

“she hung herself ... She completely redacted the table of contents”

“Customers at the Knuckle Sandwich Deli are used to being punched in the face”

“…I spend my nights childproofing the corners of the Flat Earth.”

“I’m the world record holder for domesticated jaguars. I’m not hiding this. It’s in my nature. You see it in my face when I’m being chased through the house by a shadow of hungry jaguars.”

“And now this divine being, who we only know as The Happy Medium, has programmed a bonus feature onto the grand finale of the Universe - it’s called: ‘Anybody Watching This Right Now Is A Fucking Genius.’ It’s incredible. It’s got a really crazy cliffhanger at the end.”

“And it made me so hot, because I thought: ‘Whoomp! (There It Is)’.”

“…partly because of my typically noncommittal. But I don’t care. Nah. My introspective period is complete.”

“’It’s gonna be hard’, I thought. ‘But it’s not gonna be easy.’”

“By the time I had finished, I was drenched in the blood of decorum.” “When you represent yourself, every win is a victory. Every loss a defeat.”

“But look at me now. I’m riding the subway without taking the train.”

“They participated in a multiplayer session that would come to redefine the very notion of the possible”

“Pill technicalities aside, I’m proud of you”

“some antediluvian asshole”

“I’m trying to figure out if I can adopt a grandchild. But it’s hard finding one that understands my need for ‘me time.’ And my love of benzodiazepines.”

“Most friendships have weak passwords”

“My favorite book as a kid was called The Complete Artificial Intelligence. It was aviation and rocket science combined with LSD and fairy tales.”

“When I was pregnant with my first child, I was a total mess. I was totally unprepared. Like I fell asleep under the covers of a standard issue orgasm and woke up in The Unmentioned Dimension Of The Human Reproductive System.”

“prestigioseximation”

“When you’re dropping cataclysmic quantities of ICBMs-- major orgasms can look like minor organisms to mainstream eyes.”

“From childhood to childbirth. From adulthood to adultbirth”

“Just because I'm better than you are, doesn't mean you're any less flawed”

“I could probably withstand a full month of fire, and manage to not crack an icicle.”

“And just for the record, I’m heterosexual. But I married a man.”

“I knew my heart was going to stop beating, and I knew that four out of five dentists recommend heartbeats. But I was a good bartender. I was a goddamned lemonade man. And I’ve been living that Fifth Dentist life ever since.”

“The arthritis got so bad that my only sex drive is the putting out of garbage.”

“Apathy Prophet”

“I was in an Ivy League of my own”

“These days my air needs are well-served by pressurized Nitrous Oxide and party balloons.”

“On the verge of epiphany, he opted for a Humpty Dumpty instead: ‘Oh well, you can’t blame me. I just work here.’ The battle cry of the poor dumb idiot.”

“The first time I smoked weed was the age of seven. I always hated my dad. So for my final act of defiance, I poured myself a joint and swallowed it whole.”

“Then he searched my soul instead. And there was nothing, so he had to let me go. It was one of those times where it really pays to be a lawyer.”

“You walked like a circus tent, and gave off nothing but cold sweat.”

“The remaining tumors farted out a humidity of dreams.”

“…it felt like needles and forks were on my mind.”

“My mom says it’s like The Circle Of Life and that I’m like the Simba of it all.”

“A lot of survival knowledge is counterintuitive. But it’s actually true what they say: that when the killers come to your house at night, it’s better to flee because you’ll be less killed in the morning.”

“Well, I haven’t figured the husband thing out. But the ex-husband thing is complete.”

[satureja13]

This is part 3 of our Gothy Imbolc 💀 It all starts -> here

After the concert - and after Ji Ho's Siren's Song Spells - the magic faded, and they felt awkward again... Jeb made sure to leave first with Kiyoshi. They both know how uncomfortable he makes them. Kiyoshi walked away like a condemned man. The music was still playing in 'The Veil'. And they all know and love this song. It's 'Over the hills and far away' from Nightwish

'They came for him one winter's night. Arrested, he was bound They said there'd been a robbery. His pistol had been found

They marched him to the station house. He waited for the dawn And as they led him to the dock. He knew that he'd been wronged "You stand accused of robbery" He heard the bailiff say He knew without an alibi Tomorrow's light would mourn his freedom

Over the hills and far away For ten long years he'll count the days Over the mountains and blue seas A prisoner's life for him there'll be'

Saiwa left shortly after them. Alone. He so wished he could be with Jeb this night. He's still revved up. Jeb is stunning and Sai hopes he gets to see Jeb in this outfit again after they'd made up somehow...

'He knew that it would cost him dear But yet he dared not say Where he had been that fateful night A secret it must stay He had to fight the tears of rage His heart beat like a drum For with the wife of his best friend He spent his final night of freedom

Over the hills and far away He swears he will return one day Far from the mountains and blue seas Back in her arms he swear he'll be Over the hills and far away' (Isn't it crazy how well the lyrics fit the situation between Saiwa, Kiysohi and Jeb? ö.Ö')

Jack is about to go over to his houseboat. Vlad: "Jack, are you sure you can sleep alone tonight?" He noticed the way Jack looked at Kiyoshi when he left. After all the fun they had this evening - Vlad knows how hard this was for Jack. Jack: "Positive! I'm fine! You two rather charge the Bond now. It's about time."

Jack still hesitated. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stay alone tonight. But he doesn't want to disturb Ji Ho and Vlad.

When he saw how tight Vlad held Ji Ho, he reluctantly left.

After this crazy hot Burmesan Samosa Soup - his first meal - Vlad is determined to be bolder. He can feel through the Bond that Ji Ho enjoys this embrace almost as much as he does. And so he held him a bit longer than usual.

'Each night within his prison cell He looks out through the bars He reads the letters that she wrote One day, he'll know the taste of freedom

Over the hills and far away She prays he will return one day As sure as the rivers reach the seas Back in his arms he swears she'll be'

And even though Vlad also knows that words aren't neccessary between them because the Bond tells Ji Ho how much Vlad enjoyed the concert, this whole evening, he went all in and actually said something to Ji Ho! Vlad: "You were amazing."

But Ji Ho doesn't know how to deal with a Vlad trying to have a real conversation with him so he just said: "Thank you." Well - let's not ask too much of them. It's a beginning :3

Ji Ho is tired and drained. The Siren's Songs are taking their toll on him. But he is happy. And after a silent conversation over their Bond, Ji Ho went to his room to sleep off the evening and Vlad spent the night with Jack to make sure he's ok.

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🛺 'Home happy Home' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[jskfrghsghk]

ehhh earhhh shrhhh my ocs again I’ll put their info under the cut . I think their designs will probably just gradually change more and more the more i get used to drawing them like anything else 😭 I just want to be satisfied!!

Taylor

Born in Australia and lived there with his father until he was 14. His father taught him how to hunt and fish, he didn’t have any other family besides him, he thought pretty highly of his father despite him not always being the best influence. Once Taylor hit 14, he left for the sea and started working on a ship, as his father thought it was due time for him to start working. He ended up working alongside a few boys his age, who he had convinced himself were his friends despite them bullying him constantly. He ended up in Saint Denis when he was around 20, having been left there after getting into an altercation with one of his fellow crew members. He met a wealthy woman there around his age named Marie, who he ended up becoming close friends with and moved in with her and her family. Marie’s mother tends to shelter her, and so does the same to Taylor by extension, the only times the two go out is when they’re sneaking away together. Marie likes the thrill of misbehaving and so tends to cause trouble around the town, Taylor does whatever she tells him to because he admires her. Often being the one taking the blame for any bad things she does, her actions escalate more and more every time she gets away with something.

• He usually has good intentions, but has such an awkward disposition, he comes off as creepy and threatening. He’s typically avoided by those he encounters and almost acts as a bodyguard to Marie for that purpose.

• Is very passionate about hunting and isn’t the squeamish type.

• Is obsessed with horses, has a hard time not petting every horse he sees and spends a lot of his time indoors at Marie’s family home drawing horses.

• He has a tendency to idolize anyone he gets close to, even if they aren’t special.

• Likes riding the train back and forth between towns, but is always too scared to explore the towns he ends up in.

• Gets money from Marie’s mother, which he tends to spend on candy and tickets for shows.

• Feels out of place in Saint Denis and would likely prefer being back at sea, he would try getting a job again if he didn’t feel the need to stay with Marie.

Marie

Born into a wealthy family, she moved to Saint Denis from France as her mother had known the mayor and wanted a change of scenery. The youngest of two sisters, she grew up spoiled and sheltered by her mother. As she grew older, she became more and more rebellious to her mothers dismay, often sneaking out and committing petty crimes for adrenaline boosts. She began to start seeing herself as invincible as she had never gotten caught, and so her mischief escalated more and more. Marie dreamed of bank and coach robberies like what she had read in the paper. One day staying out late to her mother’s dismay, she met a man she had to befriend. Someone intimidating and sturdy enough to help her get away with the crimes of her dreams. Marie immediately invited Taylor into her life with open arms, glad that she could find someone who would do whatever she asked of him. She told him about her plans and he always listened with little objections. Her mother adored Taylor, feeling the need to make him feel welcomed at their home as she was convinced Marie had found herself a well-rounded friend for once, unaware that he was a pushover and would allow her to continue her ways.

• She has many friends and many admirers, men often approach her with intentions of swooning her, much to her disgust. Taylor agrees to pretend to be her husband in many social settings to make Marie feel at ease.

• Despite her tendencies, she is a nice girl at heart who enjoys giving back to those less fortunate than her. She doesn’t ever keep anything she i andi often gives her money to those who need it. She doesn’t see a ton of value in many materialistic things.

• Very close with her older sister, she likes to gossip with her.

• Has many nicknames for Taylor, often calling him sailor or captain.

• Has a pet cat, who she also calls too many nicknames, it’s unclear what the cat is really named.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

A Dead Man & his Raven

Chapter 1

Note: happy spooky season! this fic is inspired by The Crow, Sihtric being based on Eric Draven. Song lyrics mentioned: Run Away From The Sun by VV.

Warning for entire series: 18+! angst/fluff. this story deals with death, losing a loved one, depression, suicidal thoughts/attempts (no details), murder (described), violence. There is also a lot of fluff, but you have been warned.

Warnings for this chapter: mention of drugs, attempted robbery, violence, murder (described), suicidal thoughts/attempts (not described).

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You remembered your life with Sihtric, with a smile and a whole lot of tears.

wordcount: 3,5k

Masterlist

'I'm okay as long as you are okay.'

Prologue.

Sihtric shivered in the cold and pouring rain. Barefoot and shirtless, stumbling through the dark and deserted streets. His legs gave out underneath him after every few steps he took, causing him to fall down to his knees repeatedly, bruising his hands each time he caught himself. Wet strands of his shoulder length hair stuck to his pale, emotionless face, which carried remainders of mud, as did his bare, muscular arms and his toned torso. His tattooed fingers were bleeding, and his nails were short, dirty and broken. 

Clawing your way out of a coffin and digging yourself up from the dirt looks easier in the movies.

For a dead man, Sihtric felt awfully alive right now, even his warm breath was visible in the cold night’s air.

A sick grin tugged at his lips when he remembered why he came back, exactly one year after he was murdered, in the very street he now stumbled through, making his way back home. 

He came back because his soul had been unable to rest ever since. He came back because Odin had granted him some more time in the land of the living, to get his revenge on those who had taken his life away from him.

To take the lives of those who had taken his life with you away from him. 

He came back because he loved you, and you never got to say goodbye.

The Proposal.

You drove down the highway, going home after yet another late night shift at work. The weather was terrible. Rain slammed against your window and you could barely see ahead of you in the dark night. You hated the late shifts, but they paid more, and you desperately needed the money if you wanted to be able to pay the rent for the loft you lived in. Friends and family had advised you to move out months ago already, to find something smaller and affordable, but you could never leave that place.

The spacious loft was your home, and it had been for many years. It was the home you had lived in with your late, underground gothic rockstar fiancé, Sihtric Kjartansson. He had been fortunate enough to make a decent living out of being a musician for a few years already, by the time you wanted to move in together, and you both fell in love with the loft during your first and only viewing of the place. It had two floors, a huge roof window and a balcony. It was perfect, and Sihtric had immediately transferred the downpay after the viewing. One week later you were painting the walls black and started to move your belongings into your dream home. The loft was also where Sihtric had proposed to you, on Halloween night, which would be exactly two years ago tomorrow.

In hindsight, his proposal had been reckless and dangerous; you could've burned the entire place down within minutes, and you were still amazed that it hadn't happened. 

Sihtric, the hopeless romantic, had lit dozens of candles on the stairs, making for a trail all the way up to the huge second floor, which was only occupied with a bed and a few of his guitars, leaving a sea of space, which you both loved. And Sihtric had used that space on the second floor wisely, filling it entirely with candles and red rose petals, which were scattered out over the dark, wooden floor. When you came home late afternoon that day, after work, you were confused as to why the light switch didn't work, and you quickly walked out of the narrow hallway, through the door and into the dimly lit living room. You gasped and dropped your bag and keys as you stared at the countless candles in the loft, illuminating the high ceiling with a soft, orange glow. You were speechless, and Sihtric spooked you when he quietly snuck up behind you, covering your eyes with his big, warm hands. You jumped, but then laughed when you heard Sihtric's soft chuckle in your ear as he squeezed you in his strong arms.

'My angel,' he spoke softly, with his smooth voice.

His soft, smooth voice you loved so much, which had become harder and harder to recall as the months passed by since you had last heard it. You could always hear his voice if you'd listen to his band, but you never did. It was too painful.

After Sihtric had scared you and spoke in your ear, you turned around to find him shirtless, wearing only his black sweatpants and a black leather wristband that had your name on it, spelled out in runes, which he wore religiously every day.

'Darling,' you giggled, 'what is this? What happened to the lights?'

'I switched off the electricity,' Sihtric said, with amusement in his voice as his hands slid down to your hips, 'did I scare you?'

'You did,' you smiled, tucking his wild, loose hair behind his ear as he gazed down into your eyes with his own big, mismatched, love-filled pair.

'I'm sorry, my love,' he whispered with a half smile and pecked your lips, 'I just wanted to surprise you.'

'Surprise me?' you asked, squinting your eyes at him, 'what's the occasion?'

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed and bit down on his lip, smiling, 'the occasion being you,' he took your face in his hands, 'making me the happiest man alive,' he said, then kissed your lips, 'I love you, my angel, forever and ever and ever,' he chuckled, 'and even in death I will still love you.'

Before you could speak, he already lifted you up his arms and carried you up the stairs, where you felt breathless at the beautiful sight of at least a hundred burning candles, and an insane amount of rose petals scattered out, leaving only a small clear path to the bed. And above the bed, on the large, wooden shelf, Sihtric had placed even more candles. You already felt yourself tear up at just the sight and the thought of how much effort he had put into simply wanting to surprise you. And that was before you even knew that the big surprise wasn't just the romantic decoration, it was the proposal that would follow shortly.

'It's beautiful,' you whispered, after Sihtric had put you back on your feet, 'thank you, baby boy,' you kissed his cheek and earned a shy chuckle from your boyfriend, who had the biggest weak spot for any pet name you'd call him.

Despite his intense, vampiresque look, Sihtric was a very emotional and passionate guy, with a big heart and a delicate soul. All he wanted in life was to feel loved, but only by you. And he always said that the only thing he needed to breathe was to be loved by you, and to play guitar whenever he wasn't making love to you. 

'Come,' Sihtric smiled as he took your hand, carefully leading you in between the flickering flames, towards the bed.

He took your coat off and threw it on the floor, nearly catching fire. Without him having to ask, you moved up on the bed. Sihtric was quick to follow, slowly crawling over to you like a wolf. And he leaned in, lovingly trapping your body underneath his own.

'My angel,' he breathed, his lips brushing lightly over yours, 'even if I had endless time with you, I still wouldn't be able to get enough of you.'

You smiled and closed your eyes when he kissed your lips, gentle and slow, allowing his tongue to carefully taste you and explore inside your mouth as his hands tangled in your hair.

'I will always want more of you,' Sihtric whispered, 'I'm a greedy bastard like that,' you both chuckled at his words, 'and I am greedy, because I want to be the only one who could ever own your heart.'

He smiled and sat back, reached into his pocket, then leaned in again, taking your chin gently with his fingers.

'My sweetest angel,' Sihtric whispered, and held a subtle but stunning ring up to you, 'will you marry me and be mine, forever and eternally, not even allowing death to do us part?'

You had managed to say yes in between your ugly crying and soft sobs, and Sihtric was an emotional mess all the same when he saw how perfect the ring he had picked fitted your finger.

'Do you like the ring?' he asked as he wiped a tear off his cheek.

'I do,' you sniffled with a smile, 'it's perfect. You're perfect.'

'Hm,' Sihtric smiled shyly, 'no, I'm not perfect,' he said, then took the black and white painted mask that hung above the bed, and he covered his face, 'maybe now, perhaps?'

'Also now,' you smiled, 'you're always perfect to me,' you said and took the mask out of his hands, 'but nothing beats that perfect face you so love to hide. I love you, Sihtric.'

He smiled and leaned in, softly brushing the tip of his nose against yours. 

'Say that again?' he whispered.

'I love you,' you giggled as he climbed on top of you.

'I love you too, pretty baby,' Sihtric said, softly, 'I'm so fucking lucky to have you,' he kissed your lips and gazed into your eyes, 'make love to me?' he breathed.

'Hm, make love?' you taunted, 'we should wait till marriage now, don't you think?'

Sihtric frowned at you, and then you both snorted.

'I'm sure I can find someone to marry us early in the morning if that's the case,' he laughed and kissed you again. 'Come on, my angel,' he whispered, smiling softly as he cupped your cheeks, 'make a little love to me?'

And you did. You made sweet, passionate and slow love under the bright full moon, who was a witness to the intimate night as she peeked through the roof window. Your fingers curled in Sihtric's long and messy hair, while he leaned his forehead against yours, slowly bucking his hips into you. He looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, and with each thrust, soft moans spilled from his slightly parted lips, which were curled into a soft smile.

And once you had both felt that pure bliss of your own highs, you cuddled up in bed. And as Sihtric tried to throw the sheets over your bare body, it accidentally caught fire as it reached the candlelit floor. He jumped up and managed to quickly slap out the small flame while you stared at him with big eyes. When Sihtric turned back to you, you started to laugh, and he was fast to bury his face in your neck, ashamed.

'I better extinguish the candles now, huh?' he mumbled.

'How will you do that without triggering the alarm, or simply suffocating us?'

Sihtric looked up at you, then at the insane amount of candles, and he chuckled shyly.

'Fuck,' he sighed, and tried to hide his face in your neck again, but you were quick to cup his cheeks.

'My hopeless romantic, clumsy boy,' you smiled and kissed his lips, 'you never fail to amaze me, good and bad.'

'Darling,' Sihtric grinned, 'you know who you just got engaged to, right? Your entire life will consist of me not always being the brightest guy. That's why I need you.'

'Maybe not always the brightest guy,' you shrugged, 'but definitely the sweetest,' you smiled and trailed your hands up his muscular chest, 'and the sexiest.'

'I'll take that,' Sihtric laughed softly, before he wasted almost an hour to snuff out each candle, without triggering the fire alarm.

You teared up at the entire memory as you drove home, and as if you weren't hurting enough yet, the radio station you were listening to started playing the last song Sihtric's band ever released, only one week before he died. You froze at the sound of his voice and the words he had written for you, which now tore your heart open and threw salt in your wounds.

Let me hold you

And dream of a life

We belong to another world…

You had to pull over to the side of the road as you couldn't drive safely anymore. The torturous pain continued as you just couldn't get yourself to switch off Sihtric's voice.

Run away from the sun, to me

Run away from the Sun, into my arms

Disappear with me, love

Dive into the dark…

You punched your fists against the passenger seat as you screamed and cried, asking over and over again why Sihtric was taken away from you, and why you were still alive, when all you wanted was to die.

And god knows you tried, numerous times, to join him in death. But each time you had tried to end your life, you had been startled and interrupted by a huge raven, pecking violently at your window, as if in panic, causing you to lose the courage to continue your attempt.

Devil's night.

The raven started to show up a few weeks after Sihtric was murdered right in front of you. 

It happened the night before your wedding day, the night before last Halloween. You walked on the street together, his arm around your neck as your arm was circled around his waist, underneath his long leather jacket. Sihtric kept pecking your cheek lovingly, and stopped walking after every few steps you took together, so he could kiss your lips, and so taking forever to get home. The streets were already quite alive, as many people celebrated Devil's Night, causing havoc and mischief on the night before All Hallow's eve.

'Sihtric,' you giggled, after he had stopped you once again, to pick you up in his arms and push you up against the wall of a random apartment building, so he could kiss you and stick his tongue down your throat.

'What?' he chuckled and bit down on his lip, completely love-drunk, 'can't I kiss my soon to be wife?'

'You can,' you smiled and nuzzled his nose, 'but preferably at home, honey. We should get off the streets as soon as we can. I don't like being out during this night.'

'I know, my angel,' Sihtric whispered and gave you another soft kiss before he put you back on your feet, 'let's go then, love,' he wrapped his arm around you again and walked you around the corner, heading into the street the loft was located at.

And just when you did, you were greeted by a group of guys, clearly drunk and high on drugs. They eyed you up within a second and liked what they saw. The men started to whistle, soon followed by their catcalling, much to Sihtric's displeasure. Sihtric was very protective of you, which you loved, but he also knew that you hated it whenever he got into a fight because of it. And the last thing he wanted was to show up to his own wedding with a black eye or something of the likes. So he tried his hardest to ignore the disgusting words that were thrown at you, and he pulled you with him across the street, away from the men.

'Hey,' one of them hissed to his friends, unbeknownst to you, 'isn't he that guitarist and singer guy? That goth dude from that one band?'

And so they figured Sihtric must have some money on him, which they desperately wanted, as they ran out of drugs fast that night. Sihtric felt the group had followed across the street, and were now stalking the two of you in the night as you made way to your home.

'Stay close, angel,' Sihtric whispered as he tightened his arm around you, pulling you with him as he gradually sped up the pace you walked in.

You suddenly felt nauseous, as if you just knew something bad was about to happen. Sihtric felt the threatening tension too and already reached into his jacket, resting his hand on the dagger he always carried with him, hoping he wouldn't need it. But when he felt a hand on his shoulder while you were suddenly pulled out of his embrace, he didn't hesitate to stab the knife into the shoulder of whichever one of the drunks had just grabbed him. You screamed at the sight of the man collapsing, but still breathing, and you kicked your feet at the guy who had taken a hold of you. Sihtric punched your attacker in his face, pulled you back towards him and he shoved you behind his back.

'Leave!' Sihtric shouted, after which one of the men immediately ran away, knowing their planned robbery had spiralled out of control.

The rest of the guys seemed to slowly back off as well, as a few went to check on their stabbed friend, who would be fine eventually. Sihtric carefully pushed you to walk while he stepped backwards, keeping his eyes on the group. And when it seemed like the sudden violence and threat was over, he turned to you and took your face in his hands.

'Are you okay, baby?' he asked, 'are you hurt, love?'

'I-I'm not hurt,' you said as you trembled, and Sihtric wrapped his arms around you.

'Oh, darling, come here,' he hushed you with a kiss, 'I'm sorry this happened.'

'It's not your fault, sweetheart,' you said, and tears took over when the adrenaline left your body, 'but are y-you okay?'

'I'm okay as long as you are okay,' Sihtric smiled softly and wiped away your tears.

'Let's just go home, Siht,' you sniffled, 'I just want to go home with you, baby.'

'We will, love, we will go home now. I will always go home with you,' Sihtric said and kissed your cheek, 'I love you, my angel, forever,' he kissed your lips softly, 'forever, and ever and ever and even in death,' Sihtric chuckled softly, 'I love you so much, angel. I can't wait to make you my wife tomorro-'

A sudden gunshot startled you, echoing through the night and scaring birds out of their trees, cutting off Sihtric's words while you felt wet, warm drops splatter across your face. Sihtric lost his grip on you as blood suddenly gushed down both sides of his head, onto his cheeks, down his neck, and he immediately fell backwards, down on the hard, concrete ground, where you saw his life leave his mismatched eyes as he instantly died.

Once you realised what had happened, you fell down to your knees. Your trembling hands moving over Sihtric's lifeless body as his blood pooled around you, soaking your clothes. You brought your hands to the fatal wounds, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, as if it could still make a difference.

'No, no,' you whispered, 'Sihtric,' you grabbed his shoulders and shook him, 'Sihtric, wake up. Please.'

You sat back when he didn't move, raking your blooded hands through your hair, pulling your locks as you felt a certain kind of madness crawl into your body, settling in your bones. With eyes painfully wide open, you stared down at the man you were supposed to marry in less than 24 hours.

'Siht,' you said softly and let out a sob as you leaned in again, 'baby, please. Please wake up,' you kept trying and took his face in your hands again. 'No, no, no,' you breathed, 'come back, love, please. I- I love you. I need you here, baby, please!' 

Your tears blurred your vision and fell down on Sihtric's pale face, merging with his still warm blood, and in your slow approaching insanity, you kissed his lips and face all over, while you kept begging him to wake up.

 This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. This is not what was supposed to happen. 

You were supposed to grow old with him. To marry him, to travel the world with him and to eventually have kids with him. You were supposed to make love with him, for hours on end. You were supposed to laugh at his silly jokes and his clumsiness. You were supposed to smile and blush whenever he let you hear another song he wrote for you, or when he'd read you a poem he wrote for you, in which he'd always declare his undying love for you. You were supposed to go home together that night, where you had planned to get in bed and make sweet love under the clear, starry night, which you would gaze up at through the roof window afterwards, when you'd cuddle and whisper sweet nothings to each other.

But instead of all those things, you started to scream beyond your control, you didn't even know such inhuman sounds could leave your lips as you screamed at Sihtric to wake up.

'You can't leave! You're not supposed to leave me yet!' you sobbed, 'you're supposed to come home with me! Please!' you wrapped your arms around him as cops and medics came rushing in the street, which had been warned by a bypasser. 

You held Sihtric's heavy, lifeless body tightly in your arms as you screamed and cried, until the medics tried to pull you away.

'No!' you cried and fought them off, 'he is supposed to go home with me! He- he said he would come home with me!'

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