#even though i didn't even make her to ship with any character she's here because i like nuns and star rail doesn't have any nuns afaik

[balmungkriemhild]

Nobody follows me for Honkai stuff as far as i'm aware but who gives a shit. this is Rêverose, she's a Knight of Beauty and she hates herself because she "wasn't pious enough" to stop the Fall of Idrila. TBH she couldn't have stopped that shit she just has a lot of self-hate and other issues

[ordowrites]

cw: yandere, possessive behavior, afab reader, power imbalance, spanking ment. (arle), hinted kidnapping, hinted imprisonment pet names, unhealthy relationships, mdni.

characters: arlecchino, scaramouche, diluc.

minors and blank blogs dni.

Diluc stares at you in a way you can't describe - those red eyes of him make your skin prickle as you adjust the tille on your dress and play with sleeves that flare out to give you a floral look. (Though you think you look like fire, because it's red and you're beginning to hate the color). You watch as his lips thin into a line as that red gaze looks down to where your chest is more noticeable before glancing back up.

Your heart pounds in your chest as he strides over to you, long legs breaking the distance. You want to run - you didn't want to be here.

When he parts his lips to speak, you flinch, expecting the worst.

"How beautiful you look, my love." You're sure he was going to say something else, with that expression on his face. His hands rest at your hips and you wonder about burning this dress the same way you did your wedding dress (pawning it off for mora would be impossible). "However."

"However...?" you prompt, growing concern. Tonight is already ruined and you were hoping maybe, for a moment, you could have some fun.

Diluc clearns his throat, his hand working up to the low cut but tasteful part of the dress and tugs it. He can get a nice eyeful of your breasts, but not too much. It is conservative but fashionable. "However," he continues, voice raspy now, face reddening a bit. "Must it be so...revealing?"

"You are the one who chose this dress." You point out. Because this rich people party is required for you to attend, and you don't want to go through another however long it will take to choose an acceptable dress. "So I am going to wear it."

Even though you'd like it if it were another color, you think to yourself.

Diluc lets out a breath through his nose - choosing to concede and letting his hands concede. No doubt nobody needs to see the tycoon and his unwilling wife argue today. If you argued, he'd have to claim hysterical and there would be more gossip.

"If you say so, my love." he says, weakly. "But if I feel you are receiving too much attention or -" Too much attention means you're talking to unapproved people, you mentally add on. "you are behaving inappropriately, you will be retired for the night."

Diluc controls many things in your life and you're more than surprised he conceded so easily. Perhaps the argument just was not worth it.

For now.

The dress feels nice with the growing heat of the summer, the cool breeze that comes off the sea helps relieve some of the worst feelings of being hot - though you consider jumping in or hiding in one of the ships, until you consider whose eyes might be on you and the color of your favorite summer dress.

Had been your favorite summer dress.

The familiar soft click of heels that make you tense and shudder approach.

"Good afternoon, you look much like a flower today." Arlecchino is still able to make you feel as if you're in the dead of winter and not in the height of Fontaine's summer. "Were you not supposed to stay with in the city, little flower?"

Affectionate nicknames are not her thing - you are in trouble.

"I wandered," you lie. "It is merely the docks, and the sea is so beautiful today." She is always so composed but the Knave looks at you dead in the eyes and you have to look away. "Am I needed elsewhere?"

"No." comes the answer. "But perhaps return now before you get hurt."

By you or by them? you wonder as you don't fight how her hand goes to your hip and she guides you away from the docks, none of the sailors pay you any attention.

"Since you wish to run off without permission, I suppose we can spend a little time outside today." Alrecchino's tone is a warning and you can already feel the sting of her palm against your skin. "Don't think of this as a reward, but merely a mercy. It is quite nice and cabin fever is no fun."

Her nails dig into the flesh of your hips.

"But do remember you are in trouble." You nod weakly. "I do like this dress on you. Perhaps you should wear it out more. Much better than your usual choices."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Good girl." And you are forced into compliance as she leads - not guides - you home. You can't help but glance over your shoulder, hungry to escape to the sea and leave Fontaine. But there is no place in Teyvat where her claws won't reach.

"What are you wearing?" Scaramouche demands with annoyance as you finally grace him with your presence that evening. It's nothing revealing - oh no, you want to annoy him, not get hurt.

"Clothes."

"You should wear the clothes more befitting of your station. Did the servants not choose something better for you?"

"They did." You answer as you survey the food on the table. Your stomach grumbles. You're hungrier than usual, but he worked you to the bone today. His expression tells you that he's not unhappy but he has to make a coniption anyways. "I was running behind, My Lord. Why make you wait for all the ribbons and ties to be done when this is just as nice and lovely but quick?"

You aren't wrong but there's just one thing -

"And, My Lord, you have impeccable taste in fashion."

You grin when you see a bit of red dust his skin. He clears his throat.

"Whatever. Just - just eat." You've won this round, quite peacefully, too. Normally, he says more words but when you compliment him - rarely - you can sway him as best as you can. The mental tally is updated in your head and you thank him for his benevolence and forgiveness before beginning to eat yourself.

But he doesn't eat - his cheeks still red as he stares at you, watching. Studying.

"I suppose you do look good in my clothes." he says, after awhile. "Don't make this a habit."

"Of course not, Lord Scaramouche."

[ladyloveandjustice]

So I have no stake in ships in Avatar the Last Airbender, I do not have any real ships for the show. But when I was looking in Katara's tag for art and stuff, I saw this reoccuring claim that Katara always supported Aang with his problems and feelings, but that Aang never supported her back with hers.

And I don't care about the ships, but I do really like the friendships in Avatar, and that bothers me. It's a slight on Aang, but also on Katara (implying she wouldn't stand up for herself and break it off if a friend was all take and no give, which doesn't fit her personality at all.)

Aang does support Katara whenever he gets the chance, which is unfortunately few and far between because Katara seems to have a hard time leaning on the people she cares about and talking in depth about her own trauma and feelings about it, though she will do so when she literally doesn't care what the person thinks about her (and both times she opened up to Zuko about her Mom initially were her lashing out at him and not caring what he thought about her in return).

This would be something that would need to be addressed for a romantic relationship between them to truly work, and I imagine it would be part of the journey of finding a way to stay together, but it's very much not Aang's fault. And as I said, when he gets a chance to support her she does. Since I just recently rewatched most of the series, have a list of those times!

-His first time being supportive of her is literally a half hour after they first meet. As soon as she tells him about wanting more waterbending experience, he enthusiastically offers to fly all the way to the north pole so they can find her a master. And this very clearly means a lot to her.

-I don't think Aang knew how supportive of her he was being here, but there's the "I haven't done this since I was a kid" "You still are a kid!' exchange. As much as people accuse Aang of seeing Katara as his Mom (he's literally the one character who doesn't express that he does in The Runaway btw and I think that's for a reason) their first interaction establishes that he sees her as a kid, just like him, and think she should have fun like a kid does. This must have been huge for Katara, who'd been forced to take on adult responsibilities at a young age, who resented having to hold the family together, who thought her childhood was over. Aang helped her have fun and be the kid she is, and he'll continue to do so.

-When she lost her mother's necklace (And Zuko subsequently stole it) he was very concerned for her feelings and seemed to immediately understand the weight of that loss, due to his own experiences with loss. Not only did he make her a new necklace to wear as a way to comfort her, as soon as he saw Zuko had it he said "you're giving that back to me" and risked being hit by Zuko in his attempts to grab it. Then he gave it back to her and she was ecstatic!

-He was so supportive of her during the waterbending scroll episode it's actually ridiculous, despite how she lashed out at him. It's unclear if he actually understood she was upset or if this was just his unwavering respect for her coming out, but when she was upset that he learned the first move faster than her he said "well you didn't have such a great teacher!" and it clearly makes her feel better for a bit. He immediately forgives her for lashing out at him, doesn't judge her at all for stealing the waterbending scroll, or for accidentally dragging them into trouble. He, in fact, goes out of the way to reassure her, looking happy at the chance to work together and reminding her they need two waterbenders. And he appreciates her joke at the end (he's just straight up being simp (affectionate) there, and I get it).

-When Pakku won't teach her he immediately denounces him as wrong and unfair and is willing to sacrifice his own education (which he needs to save the world) because he won't stand for it. He remains upset about it even after Katara persuades him, tries to secretly show her what Pakku taught him, and cheers her on when she fights him.

-When she's crying over Jet's death, he's the first one to notice and reach out to her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder and drawing her into a hug (that becomes a group hug). She smiles and clearly feels comforted. They probably talked about it offscreen too (but this cannot be shown as they would need to directly acknowledge his death to do so)

-He's pretty much always praising her as a teacher, and when she grumbles about him not calling her Sifu, he goes out of his way to call her that.

-He notices that she's mad at her Dad and asks her about it, but she deflects

-He looks really sad when he has to remind her she has to take off her mother's necklace for their Fire Nation disguises, again it's something he very much seems to empathize with her about, he understands the weight of what it means to her.

-He not only doesn't judge her for lying during the Painted Lady saga, but praises her and enthusiastically helps her commit ecoterrorism.

-Both he and Sokka move to comfort her when she's crying after the bloodbending fiasco. Most of the comforting of her happens offscreen, which I do think is a shame, and a contrast to how Aang is handled- but it's more of a "he's the main character" thing, since the same happens for Sokka as well (I'm sure Katara and Aang talked to him about Yue's death and at least tried to comfort him, but we don't get to see that).

-He was trying to support her during the Southern Raiders ep, whether you believe he did it well or not, both according to his beliefs and cultural values and by trying to emulate the ways she's talked HIM down from revenge and hatred in the past. He specifically brings up those two incidents- losing his people and losing Appa- where she stepped in to keep him from losing himself to rage. As this post notes, he also specifically echoes her phrasing from when she was urging him not to lose himself to the Avatar state (she says "watching you be in that much rage and pain is really scary" and he echoes "you're feeling unbelievable pain and rage" while talking to her in this ep.)

It's not just the air nomads he's trying to emulate here, but her. Just like Katara doesn't want to see him consumed by hatred and pain, he wants the same for her. His concern is not for her mother's killer, but for her, he fears this will hurt her, just like her concern was always for him and how this would hurt him in those times he was raging.

He wants to do for her what she did for him. But, Katara is not him. She is not someone who will be talked down by someone else when she is grieving, angry, and looking for revenge. Nobody can stop her when she sets her mind to it. She needs to wrestle with whether to kill him and she needs to come to her own conclusions, because she's the only one that can stop her. And Aang realizes that. He says it's a journey she'll have to take on her own, that she needs to face him doesn't stand in her way.

(I wonder if it kind of hurt, deep down, that he couldn't reach her the way she always reached him. I wonder if he felt upset that he couldn't find the right words like she did for him. But I don't think there were any right words. She needed him to step back. It was her choice to make. So he did.)

And in the end, he was correct that she didn't want to do it. She did choose that based on her own feelings and values.

His assumption Katara not killing the guy = forgiveness is definitely him just kind of applying his assumptions and values, but when she says she doesn't forgive him, he doesn't like, judge her or anything that we can see.

So yeah, quite a few examples! It can feel lopsided because more attention is paid to Aang and Katara's personality affects things.

Katara is both open about her emotions and not. She's someone who will look after other's feelings but not really discuss her own pain with people she cares about, until it all builds up and bursts out.

And it's not surprising she's most concerned about Aang, if my friend had recently (from his perspective) survived a genocide where he lost everyone he loved and was now tasked with saving the world at twelve years old, I'd be pretty worried about him and want to support him too! Aang goes through a lot by virtue of being the protagonist, he has the most pressure on him, he's routinely in the most danger, he literally dies for a few minutes. It's not surprising Katara has more opportunities to comfort him, but he unfailingly supports her in any of her problems of goals (when they're not murder) when he can.

I do think there's some missed opportunities to explore Katara and develop their relationship, but it doesn't make Aang a bad, unsupportive friend, or Katara his Mom and not his peer.

[sideblog-usernametaken]

Ok so Dandadan analysis time because I've been seeing some of the old conversations about it again. So two things about Dandadan (Not the only things but two important ones):

One of the over arcing themes is bodily autonomy

This series is a romcom

Rant below the cut.

A major reason people don't like Dandadan and/or are willing to dismiss it outright is because of the SA scenes. More specifically, a lot of people believe these scenes are fanservice and have no narrative reason to be there. They do have a narrative reason to be there though. These scenes aren't supposed to be fanservice either they're intentionally supposed to be upsetting/unnerving (I won't get into how here because other people have articulated this better than I can, and they will continue to do so as long as this misconception exists).

When people think of "violations of bodily autonomy" or "violations of consent" they usually think of rape or sexual assault. It is the beginner's example to the concept, largely because everyone with common sense agrees that rape and sexual assault are bad so it's easier to point out why they're bad. This also makes it easy place to start a narrative around bodily autonomy.

The very first scene of Dandadan is of a guy trying to coerce Momo into having sex with him even though she clearly doesn't want to. The same episode/chapter directly puts this kind of behavior on par with rape and sexual assault by paralleling the time Momo kicked him to the time she kicks the rapist aliens so hard she breaks their space ship. It's very clear that the narrative's stance is that not only are rapists bad, the people who aren't legally rapists because they technically got "consent" first (through coercion) should be treated with the same level of disdain. This isn't the kind of thing that you write into a series without legitimately thinking about the dynamics of consent and bodily autonomy.

Continuing on: The series also touches on the double standard between male and female victims of sexual assault. Okarun gets laughed at for having his genitals stolen, and Seiko just does not believe Momo got abducted by aliens. This very clearly parallels how in real life people will believe male victims got assaulted, but their assault is also brushed off as not that important or something they "should've enjoyed" or a sign of weakness. Especially if the assaulter was a woman. Meanwhile female victims are usually accused of lying regardless of any evidence they provide. These two things hold constant in Seiko's reactions throughout Dandadan. She literally rides in a space ship but doesn't believe aliens are real, and even when she's helping Okarun she's usually also doing a bit at his expense.

Going even further, Dandadan also branches out into other forms of violations of bodily autonomy that aren't thought about as often. For the sake of the analysis I'm going to do bullet points regarding each character. Fair warning: There will be major spoilers here so if you haven't read the manga keep scrolling until you stop seeing bullet points.

Acro Silky: It's very easy to point out that she was a sex worker, but what I don't see is people talking about the other ways she had to sell her body to keep her and her daughter afloat. She worked in janitorial services (A lot of manual labor) and as a store clerk (A lot of standing). Individually these two jobs are not necessarily coercive, they're not great but they aren't pulling you into something you didn't know about from the start. The thing is though, none of these jobs pay enough by themselves for Acro-Silky to make a living, meaning none of them are properly compensating her for her manual labor. This is an instance of manufactured consent, while she technically agreed to take these jobs, it's clear that she wouldn't be working all of them unless she had to. This is kind of an expansion of the coercion from the guy in the first scene but on a societal level where Acro-Silky wasn't in the position to be able to say "No" and move on. As a result, her freedom is restricted. She can't spend nearly as much time with her daughter as she wants to and she can't afford to get her nice things either. To top it off, any time she did spend with her daughter she spent physically exhausted because of her work.

Mr. Shrimp: Similarly to Acro-Silky, Mr. Shrimp is forced into work he does not want to do because of limited options and the need to support his child. What sets him apart though is that he's a migrant worker and his employers physically abuse him because they can get away with it. This is an exact parallel to how migrant workers are treated in real life. He even goes to work on a farm and it's potrayed as him making an honest living to support his family which is exactly what the majority of migrant workers are trying to do. Mr. Shrimp doesn't technically "have to" work on a dairy farm now, but he chooses to enthusiastically because it's his only option that doesn't require him tk disregard his morals.

Jiji: Jiji is an example of bodily autonomy violations of minors in regards to medicine. This one is a bit more complicated so stick with me here. When the Evil Eye starts possessing Jiji, the adults around him unanimously agree it needs to be exorcised and start preparing for the ritual. When Jiji decides "Hey, actually I want to try to co-exist with him" Seiko is his only adult advocate, and even she turns around on the idea when the Evil Eye has a close call with Momo. This parallels how in real life adults will make decisions for the children in their care regardless of their wishes, and how even the adults trying to be accommodating will still go against the kids' wishes sometimes. It also does a good job of accurately capturing the nature of these disagreements too, because yeah the Evil Eye is a problem so it's understandable why all the adults want to just get rid of it even if Jiji doesn't agree. But Jiji's stance of "Yeah this will be a pain but it's one I want to deal with" is also understandable. Like, imagine instead of an exorcism we're talking about getting an amputation that would be technically helpful but isn't strictly necessary.

Vamola: One of Vamola's initial goals when she's introduced is to find a strong man and have kids with him. This isn't something she actually wants to do but is something she has been obliged to do because she is one of the few survivors of a planetary genocide. She has been marked as her people's only chance at a continued survival because the rest of her people are too old to have children. Her mother and the rest of the surviving Sumerians gave everything they had to get her off planet safely as "the last thing left on Sumer to defend" so she has unfathomable amounts of pressure and survivor's guilt to go out and have kids. She doesn't get to figure out if she wants to have kids or not, that's just something that has already been made up to her and her only choice now is with who. Luckily, the story currently has her in a position where she can have peers, a (comparatively) normal life, and she doesn't have to think of her mother's request for a while. But even if it's not the primary focus in her life right now it's still there.

Rin: At a very young age Rin was forced into the role of caretaker. With a bedridden grandmother, a deceased father, and a mother who had to work long hours to make ends meet, Rin had to learn to be independent fast. She was basically forced to, otherwise her already unstable home life would break apart even further. To make things worse, Rin knows the predicament that she's in and her mother doesn't yet. Rin's mother thinks she "got lucky having such a good kid" and doesn't realize the pressure has gotten bad enough that Rin is already giving up on her passions to take care of her grandmother to give her mother a break. Mostly because Rin knows their family doesn't really have any other options and she doesn't want to place an even larger burden on her mother by adding more grief on top of it. It's essentially the "parent running themselves ragged to support their kid" story we've seen at least twice now but from the perspective of the child.

Zuma: Similar background to Rin where his father died and he took on a caretaker kind of role for his younger brother. Except his brother dies and this absolutely breaks his mother, to the point she commits suicide and tries to take him with her. Zuma is in the position where he has lost both his caretaker and the person he took care of, and he is fully aware of why that happened. This manifests as rebellion and him forming a gang that protects kids at his school from bullying and harrassment. He's becoming a caretaker again, but this time it is an active choice he has made. He doesn't technically have to start his gang or protect anyone, he has an adult taking care of him now and if he wanted to he could spend the rest of his highschool years stepping back and being a kid again. But he doesn't, and society labels him a delinquent for stepping in when the adults who should have didn't. This is another way that Dandadan shows how minors often have their opinions dismissed by adults who believe they know better.

Much shorter less spoilery rant:

Dandadan is a romcom. I have seen too many people complain about basic romcom shenanigans as if it's bad or generic writing instead of being genre conventions. "Ugh, there's a love triangle," Yes romcoms tend to have those. "Ugh, so many girls are into Okarun," Yes, and a lot of guys are into Momo, they both get romantic rivals because it's a romcom. "They keep going back to the romance and I don't like it," It's a romcom there's going to be heavy focus on the romance, you disliking that is a genre preference not a writing issue.

Like, do people not understand the concept of blended genres? Yeah this is a Shonen battle series but it's also one that has decided to be a largely character driven romcom. This is like someone walking into a horror comedy and walking out complaining that there were jokes and the horror would be better without them. The jokes are the point and the horror is a vehicle to get there. If you don't like jokes, go find a pure horror movie to watch.

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want

Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.

I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.

Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.

Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.

They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.

We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.

Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.

That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss her…

I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.

"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.

"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.

The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.

After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!

The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.

Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.

Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!

I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!

"That will be ten bronze kid"

I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh

"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"

Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.

What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?

Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.

"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"

The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.

"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"

He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.

"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"

"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"

"Good"

"Captain!"

The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.

"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.

"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.

"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"

"Captain it was a joke!!"

"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.

The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.

"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"

"ok!"

San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"

The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.

The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.

"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"

"You swine"

The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.

"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"

"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"

"Ok then”

“meat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"

"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"

The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.

"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!

This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.

Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find it…

"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.

The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.

"You can have it"

"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"

"ten bronze"

Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.

The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.

"thank you and...Sorry"

The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for me”

They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.

Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. “I only needed one tho.....”

"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knew” Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.

Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"

jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.

Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-”

“Little ones?” You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you ‘kid’, ‘child’ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyone”

You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.

As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?”

Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone

"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.

"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.”

Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rum”. San raises a concerned eyebrow.

“In what world do ‘little girl' and ‘rum’ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriate”

Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.”

San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.

Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!”

Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.

He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.

As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)

The captain’s quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoong’s features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captain’s. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.

The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. “Captain, there’s been… a complication.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold “A complication?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“A man we loaned money to—he fled,” the shark stammered. “Disappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “And you let him run?”

“We didn’t know he would,” the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “He seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.”

“And the family?” Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“They’re still in Nassau,” the shark admitted. “The wife claims she doesn’t know where he went, and they’ve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened. “You mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?”

The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Captain, we—we thought we could pressure the wife. Maybe—” He hesitated, but Hongjoong’s glare pushed him to continue. “Maybe take their belongings or… use them to draw him out.”

The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. “Use them?” he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, “You’re suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldn’t do your job?”

The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. “It was just an idea.”

Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. “Ideas like that will get you killed. You don’t lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?”

The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. “Y-Yes, Captain.”

“But you will go back,” Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. “You will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesn’t disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the shark asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. “Then you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesn’t show his face soon.”

Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the shark’s. “You don’t come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?”

The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.

“Good,” Hongjoong said curtly. “Now get out of my sight.”

As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. “You think the wife knows something?"

“If she does, fear will make her speak,” Hongjoong replied coldly. “And if she doesn’t, it’ll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what we’re owed.”

He thinks for a second and then says “ you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now on”

The shark’s anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoong’s threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.

“They’ve made fools of us,” growled the shark, his fists clenched. “It’s her fault the captain’s breathing down our necks. If we can’t touch them, we’ll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.”

When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.

“What do you want now?” she asked, her voice strong but trembling.

The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. “Your lies have caused us enough trouble. We’re done playing games.”

She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. “I’ve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. “Your daughter—where is she?”

“She’s not here,” the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. “She’s out.”

The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. “Good. That makes this easier.”

Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.

“You’re coming with us,” the lead shark said coldly.

“You can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “We’re not hurting you,” the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. “We’re just taking you somewhere else to have a little… conversation.”

Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.

____

You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.

“Mom?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but there’s no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like something’s wrong.

You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but it’s empty. There’s no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?”

You try hard to free yourself.

“You think you can run from us?” he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. “You and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.”

You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!”

"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.

“We don’t need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,” he says, his voice almost… amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.

You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Listen closely, little bird,” he continues, his voice dark and low. “We need you to understand something. Your father’s debt? It’s a problem. And we’re not leaving here until we get our money back.”

Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, we know,” he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. “Your father’s a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.” He leans down, his face just inches from yours. “But that doesn’t matter. Captain Hongjoong’s been clear. We take what’s ours. And you?” His smirk widens. “You’re gonna help us make that happen.”

His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. You’d heard of him—his name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. They’re using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your father’s debt.

“They need you to make sure your father gets the message,” the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. “We can’t hurt you… yet. But we’re going to make sure you’re a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.

He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldn’t allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owed—but they’d taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasn’t part of the deal.

Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He’d seen this side of Hongjoong before—when his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.

“Prepare Jongho and Yunho,” Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. “I want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. I’ll have no one undermining my orders.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure it’s handled quietly,” Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. “We don’t need any more attention than we already have. And if they’ve done something unforgivable… make sure they know who’s in charge.”

Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. He’d follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, they’d get to the bottom of this—and if the sharks had crossed a line, they’d deal with it swiftly.

Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.

Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. “So, we’re going to investigate what those sharks did… and if they’ve really messed up, we’re supposed to clean up their mess?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems like it. I don’t think Captain Hongjoong’s happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? That’s a whole new level of stupid.” He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.

“I mean, we’re talking about a bunch of thugs who can’t follow orders. What’s next? Are they going to steal the moon?”

Yunho snorted. “If they tried, I’d pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. We’ve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Jongho chuckled darkly. “Yeah, because Hongjoong’s ‘fixing problems quietly’ approach works out so well, right?” He paused. “Let’s just hope these sharks haven’t completely pissed him off. I don’t think even we could smooth things over if he’s really that angry.”

He then grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.”

Yunho shot him a sideways glance. “What, you think we’re going to knock some sense into them with our fists?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jongho replied, giving him a smile. “Though, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like ‘Hey, don’t take the girl, or I’ll break your legs.’”

Yunho let out a dry laugh. “Sounds like a great ‘conversation’ to me.”

He then smirked at jongho and said, “But you know, I’m always ready to put some holes in bastards. Let’s get to work.” (See what I did there? ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠° )

The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jongho’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“You ready?” Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jongho’s steady push, and they silently entered.

Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she was—tied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.

He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. “Stay focused,” Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. “We’ll get her, but we need to take them down first.”

Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was right—they couldn’t let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.

In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jongho’s eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didn’t say a word—her eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.

“You’re safe now,” Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.

She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”

Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “Jongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoong’s ship.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “You… you were at the market.” She hesitated, her voice uncertain. “You… you’re a pirate? Of the Halazia”

Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. “We’re here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.”

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunho’s voice was low and urgent. “Jongho, we’ve got to go, now!”

Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.

The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didn’t care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.

You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.

Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusement—or annoyance, depending on who you asked.

“Jongho, will you sit down already?” Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.

Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “I haven’t checked in on her in over a week. What if something’s happened? What if someone’s bothering her again?”

“Again with the girl,” Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. “You’ve mentioned her three times today already. You’re worse than Hongjoong’s parrot.”

“Worse than his parrot?” Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s saying something. I didn’t think anyone could top its constant squawking.”

“Maybe the parrot’s jealous,” Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosang’s. “Sounds like it’s got competition for Jongho’s attention.”

Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyone’s teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"

"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. “She’s been through enough already. Someone has to make sure she’s alright.”

“Someone?” San chimed in, his grin wide. “Or you?”

“Let’s be real,” Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t just want to make sure she’s safe. You’re attached. Admit it.”

“Sounds like attachment to me,” Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. “You’re practically obsessing.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsession,” Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “It’s more like…” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.

“Infatuation.”

Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. “I’m doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Protecting her,” Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. “Or is it something more?”

“I don’t love her,” Jongho snapped, his tone final.

The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.

“If you don’t love her,” the captain said, leaning back in his chair, “then stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. You’re throwing off the entire crew."

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Even the parrot’s giving you side-eye at this point.”

Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.

Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. “He’ll realize it eventually,” he said quietly.

“Or we’ll keep reminding him until he does,” Mingi replied with a chuckle.

As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didn’t love her, he told himself. He was just… concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldn’t expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldn’t begin to imagine.

But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.

And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard it—the measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.

“Jongho,” you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.

He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It is now. Come in.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.

You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how you’d repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.

When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didn’t say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.

“I’ll check in again,” he said simply.

You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. “I’ll be here.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.

You didn’t know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didn’t either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.

The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.

“There’s a festival in town,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. “I know. I’ve always wanted to go, but…”

Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.

Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why not?”

Your mother sighed, folding her arms. “She’s young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic… dangerous. I can’t let her go alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your mother’s gaze evenly, his tone firm. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. “Alright. But don’t let her out of your sight.”

A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. “Thank you, Jongho,” you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.

---

The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.

Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.

“Where should we go first?” you asked, looking up at him.

He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. “Wherever you want.”

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying ‘whatever you want’.

You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didn’t protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.

You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.

“Where are you looking at?”

You look back at him and smile, “nothing.” Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.

As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a juggler’s clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.

He didn’t win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re back,” Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. “How was your little outing?”

“It was fine,” Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.

“Fine?” Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like you’re her hero?”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

But the teasing only grew as San joined in. “Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didn’t fade.

He didn’t understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that… he wasn’t ready to think about it

The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.

“Jongho,” you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.

“Hello,” he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.

“What brings you here?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.

You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. “What’s this?”

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.

With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. “These… these were at the festival,” you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. “I saw them, but—”.

“You were staring at them right? That day?,” Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. “Figured you might like them.”

Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just thought you’d like them.”

Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. “But…” you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. “Aren’t these expensive?”

He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. “You’re what?”

“Rich,” he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?”

“I mean… you’re on a ship all the time,” you said, flustered. “You don’t exactly seem—”

“Seem what?” he cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Like someone who’d buy earrings for a girl,” you finished, your cheeks warming.

Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. That’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I told you, it’s no big deal,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “You liked them, so I got them. Don’t think too much about it.”

You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice quieter this time.

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call after him, “So, how rich are we talking?”

Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. “Rich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.”

You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.

The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jongho’s latest visit to your home.

“So,” Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, “we heard about the earrings.”

Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. “Just that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.”

San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jongho’s shoulder. “You know, if you’re going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?”

Jongho shrugged off San’s arm, his expression unimpressed. “It was just a pair of earrings. Don’t make it a big deal.”

“A pair of earrings,” Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. “Do you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for them…”

Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. “I’m just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?”

“He probably scared the vendor,” Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. “Standing there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.”

Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. “So, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the ship’s Cupid?”

Jongho’s patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. “I’m not romantic. I just thought she’d like them. That’s it.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. “He thought she’d like them! Oh, it’s worse than we thought—he’s thinking about her!”

“That’s enough,” Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.

Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. “You know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts you’ll be buying her.”

Jongho shot him a sharp look. “You’re all lucky I don’t throw you overboard.”

The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jongho’s expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldn’t fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.

As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didn’t regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.

The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the port—and there was no telling when they’d return.

Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. “I know,” he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Yunho chuckled softly. “You’re terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.”

“Leave him be,” Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. “He’s just sulking because he can’t buy her more earrings from the next town.”

“Maybe we should’ve taken her with us,” Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jongho’s other side. “At least then, Jongho wouldn’t be moping around like a kicked puppy.”

Jongho shot him a warning look. “She’s safer at home.”

“True,” Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. “But are you safer without her?”

The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the small house where he’d left you.

Now, as the ship’s anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldn’t help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace he’d found there.

Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than he’d expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on you—on your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.

For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.

Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.

They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.

For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.

Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind them—for now.

The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jongho’s eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.

As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle change—a sign hung near the entrance: “Homemade Goods & Repairs.” His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.

He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, “One moment!”

When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. “Jongho!”

You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jongho’s chest.

“You’re back,” you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t expect to see this,” Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “After my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.”

Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadn’t expected. “You’re running this by yourself?”

“For now,” you replied, smiling proudly. “The town’s been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.”

Jongho’s gaze lingered on you, and he couldn’t help but notice the resilience in your tone. You weren’t the fragile girl he’d left behind. You’d grown, thrived even, despite everything.

“You’ve done well,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.

Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldn’t stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the sea—a life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, leaning against the counter. “I have. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.

“I can’t ask you to leave this behind,” he said. “You’ve worked too hard to build it.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “And you’re not ready to leave the sea.”

He shook his head. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. You don’t have to choose, Jongho.”

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

“You come and go,” you continued. “The sea is part of who you are, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you. But when you’re here, this can be home. If you want it to be.”

Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadn’t known he was searching for.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly. “Maybe not. But it’s here anyway.”

Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. You had your life here, and he couldn’t ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.

But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.

“Marry me.”

You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before he’d thought it through. But he couldn’t take the words back now, and he didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, trying to explain. “I know it sounds sudden, and I’m not asking you to give up your life here, but…” His voice faltered. “I don’t want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when I’m out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.”

You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted more—that he wanted to be with you no matter what—stirred something deep inside you.

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. “This isn’t just about wanting me close when it’s convenient for you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I want all of you. Even when I’m gone. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me think about staying.”

You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady now. “If you’re asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. I’ll marry you.”

A smile spread across Jongho’s face, relief flooding through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.

The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldn’t be just a visit—it would be home.

[justtheclippy]

Tips and FAQ for Asks

Hello beautiful humans, I want to do my best to get to everyone's asks so here are a few things you can do to help make that happen! (if you're looking for the cast stream master list, skip to the bottom)

Please don't spam the same question repeatedly. I will get to you eventually, I promise! But when you submit the exact same thing multiple times, it just slows me down. I've got one single brain cell, please have mercy.

No spoiler requests. I cannot tell you anything about future episodes, when they will come out, what will happen to certain characters, how the story ends etc. We're limited on what we can say in general until more episodes release. The entire cast has signed NDAs (non disclosure agreement) preventing us from revealing anything, but more than that, we wouldn't want to ruin your experience of watching and engaging with the show organically! Trust me, just enjoy the ride, it's better that way.

Don't take anything too seriously. Please keep in mind most of these answers will just be for fun. My thoughts and opinions on the character, both for silly things like favorite dessert and more serious things like character analysis, are not hard and fast canon. Same goes for any of the actors. We can speculate about our characters, we know and understand them well, but when in doubt, assume its allllllllllllll non-canonical haha

Read through previous asks. This will help prevent asking things I've already answered. I'm going to be tagging (i swear I'll do it fr) my answers with #amanda asks and #tadc asks so you can find them more easily. If you do ask a question I've already answered IT'S OK DON'T PANIC I won't be upset haha

Even though I'll be tagging my answers so you can easily find them, here are a few frequently asked questions just to get them out of the way. If you decide to ask me something I've already answered, or something that goes against the guidelines above, I'll probably skip it, you silly geese.

Q: I've seen people use several different pronouns for you, what are your preferred pronouns? A: They/them and I prefer masc leaning terms generally! I'm queer, NB and very open about my identity. But people will sometimes use she/her because they don't know. I will never get upset with someone for not knowing- it's ok. But now that you've read this, you know! So you can go forth educated. You're welcome to correct anyone who doesn't know, but please be kind to each other. We've all been the person who didn't know before.

Q: What do you think of X ship? A: I love and support all the ships! Ships are part of a healthy fandom, keep creating content that makes you feel seen and that YOU want to see, that's the foundation of creativity. And if anyone disagrees with you, remind them that a lot of classics are just fanfiction about the gods at the time. It's always been here.

Q: What is your favorite ship? A: Bunnydoll and Buttonblossom, because the dynamics are so much fun.

Q: Do you like X AU? A: Yes. It doesn't matter what it is, yes. I love the AUs and if it's a new one, you better include a link so I can find it. I want all of them, thank you so muuuuuuuuch~

Q: Have you seen or played X game/show/movie/meme etc.? A: Always happy to chat about other media! But if you wanna ask about something specific, please include a link or explanation because lets be just so very honest, half the time my brain is off in adhd land so there's a good chance I'll have no idea what you're talking about at first.

Q: Have you watched Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure? A: Not yet! But due to VERY POPULAR REQUEST I will be putting together a watch stream to watch it live with yall. Once that's happened, I'll put the link here.

Q: Have you seen Queen's second game and will you be playing it? A: Yes, we've all seen the trailer and we're very excited! We will be playing it as a full cast, just like last time, as soon as the game is finished. For now, please go enjoy the demo and support the team! Once it's out and we're ready to stream it, I'll post the link here.

Q: Can you come to X convention? A: I will come to any convention that yall want to see me at!

BUT

In order for that to happen, you have to request me directly with the convention. Most will have either a request form on their site or a specific email for requests. Just write in that you would like to see me at their event, and then they will get in touch with my agent to book me!

Q: Can I request a song for you to sing? A: Of course! I promise yall I'll do my best to put out more songs this year. If there's a cover you want me to consider doing, or an artist/composer you'd like to hear me work with, let me know!

Outside of that, if you just want a little clip, you can drop requests in the asks and if I know the song I might record a bit. This is COMPLETELY dependent on time, especially if I'm busy. Please understand ❤️

You can also make requests during stream signings, which is easier to accommodate in the moment. Just put the request in the order notes, and I'll sing a little bit for you while I sign IF I know the song. So choose wisely.

Q: I want to be a voice actor! How do I get started? A: The best advice I can give on this subject is to

Join the Voice Acting Club Discord

It is one of the best resources available for anyone interested in getting started. Tons of articles and information on equipment, treating your space, what demos are and how to know when you're ready for one, tips on auditioning, workshops and classes, Q&As with industry professionals, plus casting calls.

Q: Can I write an ask just to show you cool stuff or tell you you're awesome? A: Of course you can! You can also tag me in stuff, that's ok too. I appreciate all the love and support yall have shown for me, Ragatha and the show in general. Yall are truly incredible. ❤️

Q: Do you have a PO Box so we can send you stuff? A: I'm setting it up THIS WEEK. I will post it here when it's ready.

Q: Where can I find X stream that the cast did? A: Moving forward, I will keep a master list of our group streams in order of date aired, to the best of my ability. If I miss one, let me know and I'll get it on here!

Saberspark TADC Cast Interview

Streamily Signing #1 (Amanda, Michael, Alex, Marissa)

Streamily Signing #2 (Amanda and Michael)

Streamily Signing #3 (Amanda and Sean)

Streamily Signing #4 (Amanda, Sean, Alex, Michael, Marissa, Vera, Hamish)

TADC Fan Game Stream: Game 1

Streamily Signing #5 (Amanda, Alex, Ashley, Sean, Michael, Marissa, Vera, Hamish, Wiz)

Fast Food Simulator Charity Stream (Amanda, Lizzie, Marissa, Michael, Ashley)

Marissa's Streamily Signing CRASHED by Amanda, Alex, Michael, Max (RU Caine/Jax), Julian (DE Jax), Adam (NL Jax), and Philip (NL Chad/Max)

[questionablecuttlefish]

Where is Jinx going?

Bilgewater is a strong contender, but don't discount Demacia.

Jinx/Lux is part of it. That's actually the oldest fan ship for Jinx and was the most popular for both of them in fanfic and fan art until Season Two dropped; the common claim that it's a fringe ship or 'only' in Star Guardian is inaccurate. It's been a part of League fandom for a long ass time. It started in 2014 in 'main Runeterra canon' only months after Jinx's launch and before either the Burning Bright video or Ekko existed. It was later boosted in popularity by the Wild Rift trailer, various promotional arts featuring the two together, and later by the Valoran Town animated series released in China. Why? Initially, just pairing the two poster girls of League together, probably, or the classic hero/lancer dynamic of the optimistic 'light' character with the edgy 'dark' character.

But since Lux's comic, the Mageseeker game and then Arcane there are more lore parallels between the two than ever; both are young women struggling with a society that hates them for something they didn't choose to be, both trusted an older mentor with revolutionary ideals who encouraged them to embrace their destructive powers and then betrayed them (Silco/Sylas), both accidentally unleashed their power and got people killed, both triggered a violent revolution, both have a complicated relationship with an older sibling (Vi/Garen). If they are romantic interests or just friends, Lux gets someone who will encourage her to embrace her magic and Jinx gets someone who won't judge her on her past and the potential for conflict and companionship and a very interesting, opposites-but-actually-mirrors dynamic is all there.

It's commonly dismissed by people ignorant of League's history and of the lore of both characters, but it DOES work. If you know, you know. 🦄

Outside of that, though, why Demacia? Doesn't seem like a place our crazy girl Jinx would want to go for any reason, ever, but the end of Arcane makes it more likely than even Bilgewater because at this stage Jinx is trying to cut her ties and move on from her old life. She wants to be:

FAR away from Noxus and Noxian influences (Demacia and Noxus are bitter enemies)

FAR from her "Jinx" identity and all the violence and chaos that stands for (if she wants to disappear and try to put it behind her and heal from her trauma, Demacia big, spacious, and quiet)

FAR away from her family and friends, so she can't be tempted to get involved in their lives and hurt them (as she sees it) again. (Demacia is waaaay over there, a lot farther than Bilgewater)

FAR AWAY from the Arcane that has, from the moment she picked up that first Hexcrystal, ruined her life and taken people she loves (Mylo, Claggor, Vander, Isha, and in a roundabout way, Vi) from her. (Demacia is a kingdom that despises magic and is full of magic-sucking stone made from magic sucking forests)

So I think it will entirely depend on the direction they want to take with Jinx from here. If they want her to continue to be a violent, chaotic crazy girl we know and love, they'll make her a mercenary pirate in Bilgewater, maybe tangle her up with Sarah Fortune's crew.

If they want her to try to turn her back on her "Jinx" identity and heal from her grief in peace and quiet, they'll take her to Demacia and she'll pop up unexpectedly, maybe as a tinkerer, or artisan, trying to reconnect with her Powder side.

This is where she could meet Lux (if they're going the Lightcannon route, which would make more people than you'd think very very happy) or otherwise get drawn out of her peaceful life and into the turmoils gripping Demacia, particularly as the Mage rebellion starts to break out. Particularly if Jinx ends up siding with the rebel mages, or siding with Lux either for or against Sylas's faction and/or the Mageseekers.

She has a bit of experience with being a rebel, she might end up using her experience with Hextech and the Arcane to give those rebels the edge, and "Jinx the reluctant pacifist being drawn back into her old chaotic ways to fight for a cause because deep down, she still longs for the thrills and the chaos and the noise" might be a really cool arc to take her on.

What do you think?

[fuckyeahimafangirl]

I come here late to give my opinion on what Nicole Maines said in her book about the Supercorp fandom (go to Twitter for more info, but she basically gave her point of view of things as a queer actor on the show having expected things from the queer fans, confirmed we were being queerbaited while also blaming us for some actors getting fired). I appreciate her side of things and feel for her. But reading that I felt that A LOT was overlooked, especially the context of it all. So sit back if you care enough to read this and come with me as I go on a rant and we go down memory lane to give some context into what it was like to watch Supergirl live as a Supercorp fan.

The first season of Supergirl had its fair share of ships. People liked Kara/Cat, Kara/James, Kara/Win maybe anyone? I don't remember that one but I'm sure there were people out there who liked them. Some people even liked Alex/Kara (a conversation for another time). Kara/Cat shippers could also like Kara/James, because both ships had some strong foundations in the narrative, they were undeniably good ships, regardless of how you feel about age-difference relationships or straight relationships lol. There wasn't mostly an issue, except with the ones that liked Kara/Alex.

In between the first and second season of Supergirl it was announced that a main character would be gay. They didn't say who, though. Speculation began, of course. They did say that Maggie Sawyer was coming to the show but it was not confirmed that she was going to be a lesbian and even less whose love interest. 

Then the second season premiered. And in the very first episode Kara Danvers meets Lena Luthor. Their scenes together were filled with sexual tension from the very beginning, look at their meeting scene without context and a bit of an open mind and most people will see their chemistry and think that maybe Kara was meeting her soulmate. And the first scene of Supergirl meeting Lena Luthor? It was already drawing a parallel between them and Lois/Clark, one of most iconic, recognizable and undeniable canon ships of all time. Drawing parallels between these two ships was the creators of the show's favorite pastime and it started from day one, before the ship had any fans because we hadn't met Lena just yet.

But in that episode we did meet her. And we fell in love fast. Because their interactions and the interest concept of Lena's character were good. Could it really be that Kara was the main gay character? Could it really be that they were going to give us an epic love story with Supergirl and a family member of her family's historically known enemy? Could they dare to make the famous superhero anything other than straight?

It wasn't just a delusion on our part at that time. It was a real possibility based on real facts. Kara had suddenly dropped the guy she spent the entire previous season chasing after. She got him and dumped him for no good reason (the writers didn't bother to give it a good excuse) and in the same episode she meets this woman, at the start of the season we were going to discover a main gay character.

These are all facts.

A few episodes later Maggie Sawyer makes her debut and it's clear that she's Alex's love interest from the first moment. Cool. It's not Kara but at least it's Alex (because, at the time, we know, WE KNOW, that they don't have two lesbian/queer women characters in the same show unless they're dating each other. How could we think that gay people will surround themselves with other gay people? silly us), that was the reaction: We still LOVED that it was Alex, because it still made sense. And it was difficult to find Sanvers fanfic without it having Supercorp in it because we were all the same people, of course most of us liked both ships. 

Now, I obviously don't know her, but I seriously don't think that Chyler can say she felt overlooked by the fans that season. Alex's coming out scenes were some of the best we had seen in our entire lives up until that point, and we made that known. Not all of us might have been on board with Sanvers (some storyline choices could've been questionable) but with Alex? No one loved her more than the queer Supergirl fans. And in the meantime Supercorp kept getting screen time, their friendship progressing in a Clois kind of way that was beautiful to witness. While Maggie and Alex's relationship advanced pretty quickly from an "I'm not gay" to a rejection to a proper first kiss, Supercorp was building a bit more organically as Supergirl kept saving Lena's life, as Lena opened up only to Kara, trusting her all the while Kara was keeping this huge secret from her. We ate that shit up, of course we did.

After season two was over we got the news that Floriana Lima (Maggie) was going to leave the show. I remember Chyler saying that she wanted to do right by us and whoever came next was gonna stay. And I'm not faulting Chyler for what came next, at all. Chyler was and always will be one of the best things on Supergirl and she has always treated the fandom with the utmost respect and love. And I hope she only received the same treatment back (and I hate to know she got those letters from people threatening to kill themselves, but let's have a little compassion for those people and their mental health, I hope they're doing well).

So Maggie left. And while some fans were not coping well with that, most fans understood it was the actress' decision. That was fine. What wasn't fine was the decision the writers made by making the breakup about not wanting babies when they were about to get married. How on Earth (any Earth) a couple don't talk about that particular issue BEFORE deciding to get married? It was an easy way out. But okay, it's just a TV show, I don't write it, we can move on from that... In the same season, at the same time this whole discussion and breakup occurs, the very same person who wanted to have kids has a meet-cute with a SINGLE MOTHER, Sam. The story was full of promise, she had a kid already with whom Alex got along amazingly, there was great chemistry between all three of them, Sam also had a dark secret being basically her sister's most powerful enemy, their relationship was mostly well built throughout the entire season. But guess what? She wasn't her new love interest, and left at the end of it. 

A lot of Supercorp fans LOVED AgentReign (Sam/Alex), by the way. A lot of Supercorp fans also loved ReignCorp (Sam/Lena) and a few even loved AgentCorp (Lena/Alex) and SuperReign (lol what was the name of this ship? I don't remember but Kara/Sam). And guess what? There wasn't a war between us. We were mostly the same people multishipping because it's fun and because these were interesting characters with interesting relationships created by the writers. We were inventing and wishing for stuff, but the foundations were laid for us, some (most) things were there and most of us were just screaming that we liked what we were being given and wanted more of that.

And that's why come season 4, some people were having a hard time accepting Dansen. Because we were mourning the loss of Sam and her relationship with Alex, the what ifs are always the worst, no matter the situation.  But most Supercorp fans embraced Kelly (and Azie, we love Azie and what we got to see of her relationship with Chyler, and Katie and Nicole), the vast majority of us ended up loving Dansen despite the writers not always doing a great job at writing their arcs. And it's awful that some fans treated her and other members of the cast horribly, but that was by far a small portion of the Supergirl fandom in general, and especially the Supercorp fandom. And, by the way, as a side note because racism was part of the problem for a minority of the fandom, A LOT of us in the Supercorp side of it are not white people from the US, A LOT of us are from other countries/races/cultures (that can be racist too of course, but the point is we don't know the races and motives of everyone behind a keyboard).

And that season most of us also embraced Nia because she was the first trans superhero, because of her queerness, because she was an awesome fun character, because she was relatable and geeky like most of us. We embraced her, her relationship with Kara and her relationship with Brainy. And we showed that by trending Nia related things, by adding Nia to our fanfics and fanarts. Nia was a Supercorp ally for most of us and we didn't exclude her from the art because we loved her as much as we love some of the other characters in the show.

Now, if Kara would have had, after the first season, one male love interest that was decent enough, we would have still love and wanted Supercorp, that's true (especially when it had been years of build-up) but most of us probably would have liked the pairing anyway, because we loved Kara Danvers and wanted her to be happy and to have the love she wanted at the beginning of the show (which she didn't get, by the way).

But the writers decided to give her, instead, another man who didn't treat her well. And I couldn't honestly tell you half of William's storyline because I couldn't care less. The creators of the show didn't make me care. Hell, I didn't even see Kara cared enough about that character. The writers should know their audience and should know that the audience needs moments to make them care about the characters, the writers have the power to make that happen. Many times I've seen a fandom hate a character one episode and love them by the next one, because sometimes all it takes is one good scene, or one good arc. William never had that. And now we have confirmation of what we knew all along, that maybe they were writing half-assed storylines for their love interests because they were too busy trying to figure out new ways to queerbait us. If they would have put a quarter of that effort into creating good love interests for Kara and/or Lena (but especially Kara), most of this conversation wouldn't still be happening 3 years later.

We embraced Andrea Rojas, we embraced her so much that we shipped her with Lena. Most of us weren't the blind Supercorp-or-nothing crazy fans a lot of people to this day make us out to be. When things were good, we mostly liked them. But please, please, let's be honest here, a lot of the time Supergirl was not a great-written show. And I get that those are Nicole's friends but a little objectivity, especially after all these years, would have come a long way.

These past few days I've read a couple of people saying Supercorp was the only good thing about the show. Those kinds of people were and still are a very very minority. A lot of us started the show before Supercorp existed and LOVED (still love) the Danvers sisters with all of our hearts. And the writers, at times, didn't know how to keep up with that relationship, the one that at first was the very center of the show, all that well either.

Most Supercorp fans didn't actually like that the 100th episode revolved all around Supercorp. 1) Because it was queerbaiting at its finest. 2) because it should've been about the Danvers sisters. Or at least about all Supergirl's most important relationships in equal measure. Yes, Lena was a big part of her, but ALEX EVEN MORE SO. The fandom didn't make that happen, we didn't fire any actor either. These were decisions made by the people who had the power to make anything in the show happen. If we would have had our way we all know what we would have done, and no, it definitely was not p**n (the most used AO3 tags for our ship speak for themselves).

I didn't see Nicole's last paragraph on the subject shared much. A lot of people didn't see that she acknowledged a small portion of the good the Supercorp fandom did.

But by the time you get to it, you already have a bad taste in your mouth. Because it still reads as if she's talking about us all without a care that "the toxic fans" were just a loud minority. Not to say that the good guys weren't louder, because Supercorp is still what it is to this day because we're still loud. So why is there very little mention of that? The way we supported Nia's episode? The way we supported Kelly's?

And because we were having fun and we were loud about our love for two fictional characters, WE WERE ALSO RECEIVING THREATS from some toxic fans, hell, the day before yesterday some fans were receiving death threats like it's 2017. Everything she says the cast and crew were dealing with, the Supercorp fans were dealing with it as well, and more so because the toxic people felt validated by the choices the creators made. Validated by some writers on Twitter making it worse. Validated by some of the actors who were also mocking us. We were all called delusional, and that was the most chill thing you could be called.

I understand her point of view, and I imagine that was not a great first experience in that kind of set, and I would love to have the opportunity to talk to actors about this topic that fascinates me (relationship between fandoms and cast/crew). But context is important, to see other people's point of views is important when having these conversations. She felt her own community wasn't supporting her when most of us were and that didn't come across at all. Not even with her final words. 

The fact is, they were hurt by a small part of their own fandom (which, by the way, they have no idea how old those toxic fans were. Not to say that adults are not toxic. But we, as the non-toxic adults, should also think of the demographic and react accordingly). And most of us, the queer Supercorp shippers, were also hurt by the toxic part of the fandom and by some of the people she's trying to defend. Let's be clear, there's not "mayyyybe," they were 100% wrong in queerbaiting the hell out of us from day one and mocking us for believing the bait. Make no mistake, most of this is a consequence of THAT. 

[lady-phasma]

I felt compelled to cite my sources for Armand and Lestat being an item off and on over the years. I’ve been in this fandom too long to get involved in ship wars or to really have an OTP for these crazy-ass vampires. I happen to love Armand and Lestat from the books and think that Assad and Sam make it work so well on screen. I hope we get loads more of them for season 3.

Anne wrote all of her characters as deeply flawed, we can all agree on that, but the nearly fanfiction level of “let’s see what happens when two of my most flawed characters get together” writing she did in TVA is brilliant. Book spoilers below.

Here's a link to a post I made about Lestat's perspective of Armand from TVL. (I have included one quote from TVL below because it's too precious to exclude.)

Lestat spends almost a full page describing how he sees Armand at a ball at the Palais Royal:

Yet never had Nicolas, mortal or immortal, been so alluring. Never had Gabrielle held me so in thrall. Dear God, this is love. This is desire. And all my past amours have been but the shadow of this. - The Vampire Lestat, p. 275

They literally feel the same about each other: instant attraction, love, desire, and so on. And it is powerful.

So powerful that hundreds of years later (in one of my favorite passages from any of her books) Armand is the only person allowed to approach an unconscious Lestat. Not only approach him, but allowed to lay down next to him and cuddle, caress, and console Lestat, to cry onto him.

I looked down on Lestat, who was unchanged, his hair fallen as before, a little over his left eye. His right arm was out, and his fingers curling upwards, and there came from him not the slightest movement, not even a breath from his lungs or a sigh from his pores. I knelt down beside him again. I reached out, and without flinching or hesitating, I brushed his hair back from his face. I could feel the shock in the room. I heard the sighs, the gasps from the others. But Lestat himself didn't stir. Slowly, I brushed his hair more tenderly, and I saw to my own mute shock one of my tears fall right onto his face. It was red yet watery and transparent and it appeared to vanish as it moved down the curve of his cheekbone and into the natural hollow below. I slipped down closer, turning on my side, facing him, my hand still on his hair. I stretched my legs out behind me, and alongside of him, and I lay there, letting my face rest right on his outstretched arm. Again there came the shocked gasps and sighs, and I tried to keep my heart absolutely pure of pride and pure of anything but love. It was not differentiated or defined, this love, but only love, the love I could feel perhaps for one I killed or one I succored, or one whom I passed in the street, or for one whom I knew and valued as much as him. - The Vampire Armand, pp. 368-369 (emphasis is mine)

But the contrasting absolute annoyance Armand has for Lestat is hilarious! He loves him but can barely stand him sometimes (that isn't unusual for Lestat's admirers).

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. The Vampire Armand, p. 276

But it's the way he describes things that happen to him that maddens me, the way that he connects one incident to another as though all these random and grisly occurrences were in fact links in some significant chain. They are not. They are capers. And he knows it. But he must make a gutter theatrical out of stubbing his toe. The James Bond of the Vampires, the Sam Spade of his own pages. - The Vampire Armand, p. 288 (emphasis mine)

Though Armand's head on Lestat's arm might be the most beautiful image of the two of them from any of the books, this line gives me chills every time:

"Lestat, my Lestat - for he was never theirs, was he? - my Lestat was crazed and railing as the result of his awful saga […]" - The Vampire Armand, p. 320 (emphasis mine)

Yes, your Lestat.

[ilikemicrowaves]

A big batch of skywing designs related to the Royal family, featuring Sky along with it.

From left to right, row to row. As I list them, I rambled about them and their designs and my choices. Feel free to give any comments on them!!

Scarlet

Boy, oh boy, do I love her, Scar shit my beloved. I wanted to make her purple because purple is often associated with the rich and royalty. Funfact! Back in ye olden days, purple was a very expensive and rare color to get with pretty much anything, so the rich and royals often wore it, giving it its regal representation in the present day. Also, I gave Scarlet's horns stripes because I was going for a jester vibe. Might seem odd, but she's such an intelligent villain, yet her rage, selfishness, and greed blinded her, in the end making her the fool.

Canyon

I really enjoyed reading Tailwind's writing about their egotistical brother. Canyon, to me, is a diva, and I'd love to talk more about him. Those glasses? Doesn't need them. He believes they're fashionable, along with his robes and cloths. The only thing I put into his design that has meaning is his mistletoe, since it represents love and romance, and Canyon is a slut like that /heavy j. He's a hopeless romantic to me and loves his big wife. Although it's implied he married Scarlet to just to brag about it, or that's atleats what I interpreted last I read it, I like to think he actually did love Scarlet and would surprise her with new prisoners for the champions to battle before Peril. It's a shame he died before Peril was born. Imagine the Peril having TWO manipulative and evil caretakers. Orange represents arrogance and impatience, so boom, orange Canyon. Also the the stereotypical Canyon is orange, so it fits in that way as well. Note that I just remembered hours after typing this. This is future felix here to say: I based Canyons design slightly off the canyon wren.

Tourmaline

TOURMALINE!!!! MY GIRL!!! MY BADDIE!! I love Tourmaline and her confidence so much. It shows how strong she was when she realized she was not the dragon who she'd been for 7 years because of an enchantment, as soon as she figured it out she came to terms and did not have an existential crisis, or atleats not around Peril. ( Or Tui didn't really think about how much that would fuck up a person lol ). Nothing in her design has symbolism that I purposefully put in. She's orange like her father and has curved horns like her mother. She also has Canyon's face shape with somewhat of Scarlets nose Bridge and nose. Scars from training combat.

Vermillion

omg this gay ass mother fucker. I fucking hate him /heavy j. Anyways, Vermillion is interesting to me, I guess. I haven't really looked deep into his character other than what's on the surface, a victim of being a child of Scarlet and under her rule. To me, he is very fashionable, including his gold band of amazonite. Not only does baby blue look good on him, but it symbolizes empowerment, which he has. And I ship Cherrylime ( Chameleon x Vermillionv) as well as Vermillion x Chameleon x Mastermind.

Ruby

Heh, get a load of this guy /ref. Anyways, for a hc, enchanted dragons' irises turn a certain color, skywings being pink, which is why Ruby and Pyrites eyes are pink. I gave her harlequin diamond patterns since they symbolize the gap between two metaphoric worlds and the forced silence by others. The first part is that she is two dragons in one and that she is quiet. Although she has the ability to speak up, the power hanging over her head like a guillotine stops her.

Cliff

he's literally just a guy. Though I did add one thing "evil" to him; I gave him Scarlet's eyes. Even though that horror is long gone, anytime Ruby looks her son in the eyes, Scarlet will be staring back at her. But in canon, I don't think she will ever see it that way unless Cliff's personality begins to develop in a negative way, then shed begin to worry and see the illusion resulting from her anxiety. I gave him bits of orange from the reccesive genes she carried from Canyon and from Cliff's father, who I hc to be orange. Also, to symbolize his optimism.

Peril

In the books, she's described as bronze, which i feel is such a loss when her book cover and gn design is a hot cheeto. ( No hate to her Canon design. It looks really cool imo, i just miss bronze Peril. ) The point of her being bronze was supposed to be the fact that she's so different from her tribe other than the obvious. Brown Peril ftw!! She does have stripes of reds, oranges, and greens on her legs and tail, but that's not visible in her headshot, unfortunately. Wanted to throw in Chameleon's genes in there for funzies. Ik in canon Soar is physically a completely different dragon with different genetic makeup, but I think it's more fun to do this, and it's not like I'm hurting anyone lol ( I say this because when I first posted my Peril design I got a on hate for "shitting one canon." Which like ???? Go touch grass instead of telling me I can't be creative. ) ( Here's my 1st post of my Peril design, and then my 2nd slightly tweaked one. )

Sky

I hate how the Fandom treats sky honestly. It's a shame they just dumb him down to "cinnamon roll baby." That's a full adult dragon. Stop acting like he's a child just because he grew up outside of Dragon culture and civilization. Made him pink n brown and gave him a little swirly scale on his cheekbone. Or well above his cheekbone, actually.

Pyrite

I put a bunch of details that yells, "Hey, this is secretly an icewing." Like her spikey scale patterns, antler like horns, and deep colored eyes. Enchanted icewings have red eyes, so I just made them a deep maroon Ish pink, thats why it's not a shade of pink like Ruby's. I have a post planned in my brain, not even in my drafts yet, so it might be a bit, but it's about Hailstorm n Pyrite's relationship and how I think Hailstorm would have handled himself afterwards.

And that's all for these guys!! There's a chance I'll draw other skywing characters or other characters that surround this bunch, like Hailstorm, Chameleon, Kestrel, Tailwind, and maybe how I imagine Cliff's father But thank you for reading if you read all of this! This took up a lot of time, but I enjoyed all of it :33

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader, Seonghwa x reader, Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, Wooyoung x reader.

Summary: Five eight-year-old boys aboard the slave ship Crimson Serpent form an unbreakable bond with five-year-old y/n. before she's sold at auction. Despite their failed rescue attempt, they swear a blood oath on her teddy bear to find her.Fifteen years later, now feared pirates leading the ATEEZ

Warnings: Slavery/Human Trafficking, Separation/Loss, Violence, Eventual Smut. SA(not by any main characters) y/n gets switched to a real name but it has a purpose. More warnings to be updated.

Authors note : my updates may be a little sporadic for a bit, but I will update as often as I can! Also we’ve made it to the beginning of the smut finally. It’s only mild in this chapter though 🔥

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Masterlist

Chapter 13

Scars

The medical bay was quiet in the early hours of morning. Most of the ship still slept, the gentle rocking of the ATEEZ creating a soothing rhythm that encouraged rest. Y/n sat in her now-familiar chair beside Mingi's bed, absently flipping through a book of sea charts she'd borrowed from Hongjoong's collection. She wasn't really reading it—just needed something to keep her hands busy during her self-appointed watch.

Mingi slept peacefully, his breathing steady and deep, a good sign according to Yeosang's latest assessment. The worst danger had passed, though recovery would still take time. In sleep, his normally guarded expression softened, making him look younger—closer to the quiet boy she remembered from The Crimson Serpent than the formidable gunner he'd become.

The door opened with a whisper of well-oiled hinges as Yeosang entered, carrying a small tray of medical supplies. He nodded to y/n, not surprised to find her there despite the early hour.

"You're up early," he said softly, setting down his tray. "Did you sleep at all?"

"A few hours," she admitted. "Woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Figured I might as well be useful here."

Yeosang's mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Your presence is good for him, but you need proper rest too. Doctor's orders."

"I'm fine," she insisted automatically, the response so ingrained after years of pushing through exhaustion that it emerged without thought.

"That's what you always say," Yeosang replied, no real admonishment in his tone despite the words. "Even when you're not."

He moved to check Mingi's bandages, his movements practiced and efficient. Satisfied with what he saw, he made a few notes in his medical journal before turning his attention back to y/n.

"While I have you here," he said casually, though something in his voice suggested the conversation was anything but casual, "I've been meaning to ask... how's your back?"

The question caught her off guard. y/n stiffened, fingers tightening around the book in her lap. "It's fine," she said, the words clipped. "Healed a long time ago."

"Healed doesn't mean it doesn't still cause problems," Yeosang countered, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing Mingi. "The last time I treated those wounds was what... eight years ago? Right before Blackwell sold me."

Y/n’s gaze dropped to her hands, now still on the book in her lap. "Why bring this up now?"

"Because I'm your doctor again," Yeosang said simply. He met her eyes, his professional demeanor softening with genuine concern. "And because I know how deep those lashes went. Scars like that don't just disappear—they can cause pain, limit movement. There are treatments now I didn't have access to in Blackwell's household."

Y/n was silent for a long moment. The shared memory hung between them—Yeosang, barely a teenager himself, cleaning wounds on a child's back by candlelight, both of them terrified of discovery.

"I've managed," she said finally.

"You've survived," Yeosang corrected gently. "There's a difference between surviving and healing."

He carefully set aside his medical journal and pulled a chair closer to her, maintaining enough distance to avoid making her feel crowded but close enough for private conversation.

"Have you told the others?" he asked.

She shook her head. "There hasn't been a reason to. And I don't want them to..." she trailed off, searching for the right words.

"See you differently?" Yeosang supplied.

"To pity me." Her voice hardened. "I survived it. I don't need their pity."

"They wouldn't pity you," Yeosang argued quietly. "They'd be angry on your behalf."

"That's worse." Y/n looked up, meeting his eyes directly. "The last thing I want is for them to see me as someone who needs to be avenged or protected. Not after they've spent fifteen years searching for me already."

Yeosang studied her for a moment. "You're protecting them from your pain," he observed. "Just like you used to do with me in Blackwell's household."

The observation was unsettlingly accurate. Y/n had always tried to minimize her suffering, even as a child—not seeking help until the pain became unbearable, hiding injuries until infection made them impossible to conceal.

"Let me examine your back properly," Yeosang said, his tone professional but gentle. "As your doctor, not just your friend. There are treatments now—oils to soften scar tissue, exercises to prevent it from restricting movement. You don't have to just 'manage' anymore."

Y/n hesitated, unconsciously straightening her posture as if to prove she had no physical limitations.

"No one else needs to know," Yeosang added, reading her hesitation correctly. "This would be between us, just like before. Doctor and patient."

The reminder of their old dynamic—the careful trust they'd built during those years in Blackwell's household—finally broke through her resistance.

"Alright," she conceded. "But not here, not with Mingi—"

"Of course not," Yeosang agreed immediately. "We can use the private examination room. It's just through there." He nodded toward a door at the back of the medical bay.

Y/n glanced at Mingi, still sleeping peacefully, then back to Yeosang. After a moment's consideration, she stood. "Let's get this over with."

The private examination room was small but well-equipped, with a screen for changing and a treatment table positioned to catch the morning light from a small porthole. Yeosang moved around the space with practiced efficiency, gathering supplies and adjusting the lamp to provide better illumination.

"You'll need to remove the top part of your dress," he said, his clinical tone helping to normalize the situation. "There's a wrap on the screen you can use for modesty. I'll turn away until you're ready."

True to his word, he busied himself with organizing his supplies, his back turned as Y/n moved behind the screen. She changed quickly, wrapping the soft cloth around her chest before taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Ready," she called softly.

Yeosang turned, his expression purely professional as she took a seat on the examination table, her back to him. For a moment, there was silence. Then she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Y/n..." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Is it that bad?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light despite the tension she felt.

"Worse than when I last saw them," he admitted. "The later ones... after I was gone..."

"There was no one to help properly clean them," she said simply. "I did what I could."

She felt his fingers then, cool and gentle as they traced one of the longer scars. Despite herself, she flinched slightly.

"Sorry," Yeosang murmured. "Are they still painful?"

"Sometimes. When the weather changes, or if I strain too much during training."

His examination continued in silence for several minutes, his touch professional but careful, just as it had been all those years ago. Y/n found herself remembering those nights in Blackwell's household—the young medical apprentice risking punishment to tend her wounds, teaching her which herbs helped with pain, how to clean injuries to prevent fever.

"The tissue is tight here," Yeosang noted, his fingers pressing lightly near her shoulder blade. "And here. It's restricting your range of motion, especially on the right side."

"I've noticed," she admitted. "It makes certain movements difficult during combat training."

"I can help with that," Yeosang said, and she could hear the shift in his voice—from concerned friend to confident healer. "I've learned treatments for scar tissue that I didn't know back then. Special oils, stretching exercises."

He moved away briefly, and she heard the sound of bottles clinking. When he returned, the scent of herbs filled the air—something woodsy and clean.

"This might feel cold," he warned, before applying something to her back.

The oil was indeed cool, but his touch remained gentle as he worked it into her scarred skin. Y/n found herself gradually relaxing under his ministrations—the familiar routine bringing back not just memories of pain, but of care. Of someone trying to help when nearly everyone else in her world sought only to use or harm her.

"You still remember how I like the pressure," she observed quietly.

"Some things you don't forget," Yeosang replied. "Even after eight years."

They fell into companionable silence as he continued to work, the familiar rhythm of treatment creating its own form of comfort. Y/n found herself reflecting on how strange it was that this—having someone tend wounds inflicted during her captivity—could feel like coming home in a way that even reuniting with the others hadn't quite managed.

"Can I ask you something, Angel?" she said after some time had passed.

The childhood nickname made his hands pause momentarily before resuming their work. "Of course."

"Have you told them? About what it was really like there?"

Yeosang was quiet for a long moment. "Not everything," he finally admitted. "They know I was Blackwell's property, that I worked as a medical apprentice. But the details... no."

"Why not?"

His hands stilled again. "The same reason you haven't shown them these scars. Some burdens don't need to be shared to be carried."

The simple truth of his words resonated deeply. Y/n nodded, understanding flowing between them without need for further explanation.

"But Y/n," Yeosang continued, his voice gentle yet firm, "these scars are evidence of your strength, not your weakness. You survived something terrible. You didn't just endure it—you kept your humanity intact. That's not something to hide. It's something to acknowledge."

"Maybe someday," she conceded. "But not yet. Not until I'm ready."

"That's fair," Yeosang agreed, resuming his treatment. "It's your choice. Always."

As he worked the healing oil into her skin, Y/n found herself thinking about choices—how few she'd had during those fifteen years, and how significant even small ones felt now. The choice to reveal her identity. The choice to stay aboard the ATEEZ. The choice to show her scars to Yeosang, to accept his help.

"I'm going to wrap this with a special cloth that will help the oil penetrate overnight," Yeosang explained as he finished his application. "And I'll prepare a treatment plan—exercises to stretch the tissue, oils to apply regularly. It won't erase the scars, but it can ease the pain and improve your mobility."

"Thank you," Y/n said simply. The words seemed inadequate for what he was offering—not just medical treatment but a continuation of care that had begun when they were both children in a house of cruelty.

Yeosang's hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around her torso, his movements efficient yet considerate. "You know," he said conversationally, "the others would want to help if they knew."

"I know," she acknowledged. "But I'm not ready for their anger. For what they might do with it."

Yeosang secured the bandage with a small pin. "You're worried about Mingi."

It wasn't a question. Y/n sighed. "And Hongjoong, they seem the most protective. If they saw these..."

"They would be furious," Yeosang agreed. "They all would be. But that anger—it isn't pity, Y/n. It's love."

The simple statement hung in the air between them. Y/n turned slightly, meeting his eyes over her shoulder.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she admitted. "What they might do out of love. The risks they might take."

"That's their choice," Yeosang reminded her gently. "Just as keeping this private is yours. For now."

He stepped back, handing her shirt to her. "We're done for today. I'll have a treatment plan ready by this evening."

Y/n nodded, taking the garment with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Angel. Not just for this, but for understanding."

"Always," he promised, the single word containing years of shared history.

As she dressed behind the screen, y/n found herself thinking about the different forms healing could take. There was the physical treatment Yeosang offered—the oils and exercises that would ease her pain and improve her mobility. But there was another kind of healing happening aboard the ATEEZ, one more complex and perhaps more profound: the healing of connections broken fifteen years ago, the rebuilding of trust between people who had once meant everything to each other.

Maybe someday, as part of that healing, she would share these scars with the others. Let them see not just the marks Blackwell had left on her, but the strength it had taken to survive them. But for now, it was enough that Yeosang knew. That she wasn't carrying this burden entirely alone anymore.

When she emerged from behind the screen, Yeosang was waiting with a small bottle in hand.

"For your nightstand," he explained, offering it to her. "Apply it before sleep whenever the pain is bad."

Their fingers brushed as she took the bottle, and y/n felt a surge of gratitude for this friend who had somehow found his way back to her against impossible odds.

"We should check on Mingi," she suggested, tucking the oil into her pocket.

Yeosang nodded, his expression shifting back to professional concern. "Yes, it's almost time for his morning medications."

As they returned to the main area of the medical bay, y/n felt a subtle but significant change in herself—a loosening, as if some tightly held tension had begun to release. The scars on her back were still there, would always be there. But somehow, sharing them with someone who understood made them feel less like a shameful secret and more like what they truly were: proof that she had faced terrors and survived them.

The healing had begun.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

When y/n returned to Mingi's bedside, she found him awake, his dark eyes tracking her movement as she approached. Yeosang busied himself at the supply cabinet, giving them a semblance of privacy while remaining close enough to monitor his patient.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, settling into her chair beside him.

"Better," Mingi replied, his voice stronger than the day before. "Yeosang says healing faster than expected."

She smiled at his characteristic economy of words. "That's good news. Though I suspect you'll still try to get back to your gun decks before he approves it."

A slight upturn at the corner of his mouth acknowledged her assessment. "Maybe."

Yeosang approached with a small cup containing Mingi's morning medication. "I need to check supplies in the secondary storage room," he announced after Mingi had taken the medicine. "I'll be back in about half an hour. Try not to let him do anything foolish while I'm gone," he added to y/n with a meaningful look.

The deliberate withdrawal was transparent, but y/n appreciated it nonetheless. When the door closed behind Yeosang, a comfortable silence settled between them. Mingi's gaze remained on her, observant as always, though something different lingered in his expression – something smoldering beneath his usual watchful attention.

"Missed you," Mingi said simply, the admission unexpected from someone so typically reserved.

His directness caught her off guard. "I was only gone for an hour," she replied, a smile playing at her lips.

"Not what I meant." His eyes held hers with unmistakable intent. "Fifteen years of missing you. Every day."

The simple declaration sent warmth flooding through her. There was no artifice in Mingi, no strategic calculation – just raw honesty delivered with characteristic precision.

"I missed you too," she admitted. "Even when I didn't remember everything clearly, there was always this... emptiness. Like something vital was missing."

His large hand moved across the blanket toward hers, palm up – an invitation rather than a demand. The gesture was so like him – offering connection without requiring it, creating space for her choice rather than assuming it.

She placed her hand in his, warmth spreading from the simple contact. His fingers curled around hers, gentle despite their strength, calloused from years of work with weapons and tools yet somehow still familiar to her touch.

"Little shadow," he said softly, the childhood nickname transformed by the deeper timbre of his adult voice. "Still can't believe you're actually here."

"Sometimes I can't either," she admitted, meeting his intense gaze directly. "Finding all of you after so long... it seems impossible."

"Not impossible," Mingi countered, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles in a way that sent unexpected shivers up her arm. "Improbable. Different."

The distinction made her smile. "Very different. But then, we're all different now too."

He studied her face with the careful attention he gave to everything important. His eyes lingered on her lips for a moment before returning to meet her gaze, the intensity in them unmistakable.

"Core remains the same," he said, voice dropping lower. "Essential nature survives."

Without conscious decision, y/n found herself leaning closer, drawn by the quiet strength that had always been his hallmark. "And what is my essential nature, in your assessment?"

Mingi's free hand moved then, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face with deliberate precision. Unlike his usual careful distance, this touch lingered, fingers tracing the line of her jaw with exploratory intent.

"Resilient," he offered, his deep voice barely above a whisper. "Perceptive. Strong."

Each word was delivered with such conviction that y/n felt something shift within her – a barrier carefully maintained for fifteen years beginning to crumble beneath his unwavering gaze.

The raw honesty of his response broke whatever last thread of hesitation remained between them. Y/n closed the remaining distance, her lips meeting his with an urgency that surprised them both.

What began as tentative exploration quickly ignited into something far more demanding. Mingi's hand slid from her face to the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as he drew her closer. The careful restraint he typically maintained dissolved entirely as his mouth moved against hers with unexpected hunger.

Y/n responded in kind, her own hand moving to his shoulder, then sliding up to cup his face. His skin was warm beneath her palm, the slight roughness of stubble a reminder of just how much time had passed since they were children aboard The Crimson Serpent.

When his tongue swept against her lips, she opened to him without hesitation, deepening the kiss with a soft sound of encouragement. Mingi's grip tightened in her hair, not painful but possessive in a way that sent heat spiraling through her core. Their breath mingled, quick and uneven, as the kiss became increasingly desperate – fifteen years of separation and longing crystallizing into this single moment of connection.

Y/n found herself leaning further over the bed, her body seeking closer contact despite the awkward position. Mingi's free arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her half onto the narrow treatment bed with surprising strength for someone still recovering from injury.

"The wound," she murmured against his lips, a moment of concern breaking through the haze of desire.

"Don't care," he growled, the uncharacteristic roughness in his voice sending fresh waves of heat through her body.

He pulled her more fully onto the bed beside him, making room despite the narrow space. Y/n found herself pressed against the solid warmth of his uninjured side, their bodies aligned from shoulder to hip. The position should have been uncomfortable, even awkward, yet somehow felt more right than anything she'd experienced in fifteen years of calculated survival.

Mingi's mouth found hers again, the kiss deeper now, more consuming. One large hand spanned her ribcage, fingers splayed wide as if attempting to memorize her shape through touch alone. When his thumb brushed the underside of her breast, even through clothing, y/n arched into his touch with a gasp.

The sound seemed to ignite something primal in him. His kisses moved from her lips to her jaw, then down the column of her throat – deliberate exploration that left trails of fire in its wake. When his teeth grazed the sensitive junction where neck met shoulder, y/n's fingers tightened in his hair, her body responding with instinctive hunger.

"Mingi," she breathed, his name both plea and permission.

His hand moved higher, finally cupping her breast fully through the fabric of her dress. The weight of his palm, the deliberate pressure of his fingers, drew another soft sound from her throat. Their bodies shifted against each other, finding natural rhythm despite the constraints of their position and his injury.

Y/n's own hands became bolder, one sliding beneath the hem of his loose shirt to explore the warm skin and solid muscle of his uninjured side. Her fingers traced the ridges of old scars – testament to years of battles fought while searching for her – before traveling higher across his chest.

Mingi's breathing grew more ragged as her exploration continued. His own hand abandoned her breast to begin working at the fastenings of her dress, deft fingers making quick work of the first few buttons despite his usual preference for minimal speech over manual dexterity.

"Want to see you," he murmured against her collarbone, the simple statement somehow more arousing than elaborate declarations might have been. "All of you."

"Yes," y/n agreed, helping him with the remaining buttons until the top of her dress fell open, revealing the simple binding beneath.

Mingi pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes darkening further as they took in the newly exposed skin. There was something reverent in his gaze, appreciation mixed with hunger in a combination uniquely his.

"Beautiful," he stated, the word carrying absolute certainty.

His hand returned to her breast, this time with only thin fabric between his palm and her skin. Y/n closed her eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the pleasure of his touch after so many years of keeping others at careful distance. When his thumb brushed across her nipple, she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her lips.

The sound seemed to break whatever remaining restraint Mingi possessed. He captured her mouth again in a kiss that bordered on desperate, his hand working to unwrap the cloth around her chest. Y/n helped, impatient now for the barrier to be gone, needing to feel his touch without impediment.

As the fabric fell away, Mingi's exploration became more thorough, more deliberate. His calloused palm against her bare skin created sensations that had her pressing closer, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of everything he offered. His mouth followed where his hands led, hot kisses trailing down her throat to the newly exposed curve of her breast.

When his lips closed around her sensitive flesh, Y/n’s back arched, her hand tightening in his hair as waves of pleasure radiated through her body. The careful control she had maintained for fifteen years shattered entirely beneath the heat of his mouth, the deliberate skill of his touch.

Her own hands grew more urgent, tugging at the loose garment covering his torso, needing to feel more of him against her skin. Mingi shifted to accommodate her exploration, helping remove the barrier between them despite the awkward positioning his injury demanded.

When their bare chests finally pressed together, both gasped at the contact. The heat of skin against skin, the intimacy of nothing between them, created connection beyond merely physical sensation. Y/n found herself overwhelmed by the trust implicit in this moment – the vulnerability of allowing another person this close after fifteen years of calculated distance.

Mingi seemed equally affected, his typical reserve completely transformed into raw need. His hands explored every inch of her exposed upper body with meticulous attention, as if mapping territory he had dreamed of discovering for fifteen years. His mouth returned to hers in a kiss that spoke of possession, of claiming, of finding something precious once believed lost forever.

Their bodies moved against each other with increasing urgency, the narrow treatment bed creaking slightly beneath their shifting weight. Y/n found herself pressed beneath him as he carefully maneuvered to hover above her, supporting his weight on his uninjured side while his hand continued its thorough exploration.

When his fingers trailed lower, skimming her waist and pulled her skirt up, Y/n made no move to stop him. Instead, her own hands moved with equal purpose, seeking the ties of his loose pants with determined intent.

"Want you," Mingi stated against her lips, the simple declaration more powerful than elaborate seduction. "Need you."

"Yes," Y/n agreed, the word both answer and demand. "Now."

He pulled her skirt up, bunching it around her waist, her own hands having achieved similar progress with his garments, when the medical bay door swung open with dramatic flair.

"Good morning, my invalid friend! I come bearing Wooyoung's special healing broth, guaranteed to—OH SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVENS!"

The theatrical exclamation shattered the moment like glass. Y/n’s eyes flew open as Mingi's head whipped toward the doorway, where Wooyoung froze, tray in hand, eyes widening at the scene before him: Y/n and Mingi entangled on the narrow treatment bed, clothing in various states of disarray, both flushed and breathing heavily.

“GET OUT!" Mingi barked, the command carrying such force that Wooyoung actually jumped.

But the cook had already recovered his typical theatrical poise, a broad grin spreading across his face as he carefully set his tray down on a nearby table, making absolutely no move toward the exit.

"Well, well, WELL!" he announced, crossing his arms with obvious satisfaction. "Isn't THIS an interesting development! To think I was worried our wounded hero might be getting BORED during his recovery. Clearly, he's receiving the MOST attentive care!"

Y/n scrambled to pull the front of her dress closed and her skirt down, heat flooding her face for entirely different reasons than moments before. Mingi, showing remarkable composure despite the interruption, shifted to partially shield her from view while reaching for his discarded garment.

"Wooyoung," he growled, the single word carrying clear warning despite its minimal delivery.

"Don't mind me," Wooyoung continued, a mischievous grin spreading across his features though something wistful lingered in his eyes. "Just the ship's cook making his morning delivery. Though I see you've already found something far more appetizing to taste."

"Woo!" Y/n exclaimed, mortification battling with reluctant amusement at his characteristic cheek.

"What terrible timing I have," he lamented, though the twinkle in his eye suggested the opposite. "Or excellent timing, depending on one's perspective. Yeosang would certainly argue for the latter, considering he spent hours repairing our gunner's injuries. Imagine his reaction if certain... vigorous activities... reopened freshly stitched wounds."

Despite her embarrassment, Y/n couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Trust Wooyoung to transform even this awkward moment into something approaching comedy.

"Are you going to stand there all day making comments, or are you going to give us some privacy?" she asked, having managed to mostly reassemble her clothing.

"That depends," Wooyoung replied, Sitting on a near by chair with theatrical flourish. "Are you two planning to resume activities that might require audience participation? Because I'd be devastated to miss my cue if so."

Mingi's expression darkened, though not with his earlier anger. "Wooyoung," he said again, voice low but carrying clear intent. "Out."

"So demanding," Wooyoung sighed dramatically, though he stood up and began backing toward the door. "I suppose I'll have to wait my turn, like a gentleman." His eyes met Y/n’s briefly, something genuine flickering beneath his playful exterior. "Though I hope you'll remember the rest of us are equally eager for... private conversations."

The implication hung in the air as he retreated, "Carry on, lovebirds! I'll just leave this nutritious breakfast here and be on my merry way. Though perhaps I should hang a warning sign outside? 'DO NOT DISTURB: Intense Physical Therapy In Progress'? Or maybe 'CAUTION: Healing Through Happiness Underway'?"

"Woo," Y/n repeated, her face burning despite years of practiced composure. "If you value your continued existence—"

"Say no more!" he declared, backing toward the door with theatrical movements, though his grin never faltered. "Your secret is safe with me! Well, mostly safe. Somewhat safe. Safe-adjacent, let's say."

When the door finally closed, Y/n buried her face against Mingi's shoulder, equal parts mortified and amused by the interruption.

"He'll tell everyone," she groaned, though without real distress.

"Probably already has," Mingi agreed, his arm wrapping around her shoulders in protective gesture despite the lingering tension evident in his body.

Y/n pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, finding them still dark with desire despite Wooyoung's theatrical intrusion. "Are you concerned? About the others knowing?"

Mingi considered this with characteristic thoroughness, his expression thoughtful despite the interrupted passion still evident in his flushed skin and quickened breathing.

"Not concerned," he decided finally. "But complicated."

The simple assessment contained volumes beneath its surface. Y/n nodded, understanding flowing between them without requiring elaborate explanation. The five officers of the ATEEZ had spent fifteen years searching for her, each carrying their own form of memory, their own version of connection. What happened between any two of them affected the entire delicate balance of relationships aboard the ship.

"They all care for you," Mingi continued, unusual verbosity revealing the importance of what he was trying to communicate. "Hongjoong. Seonghwa. Yunho. Wooyoung. Different ways, but same depth. Same commitment."

"I know," Y/n acknowledged, something warm unfurling in her chest at the simple truth. These five men who had once been boys protecting a little girl had grown into something extraordinary – not just fearsome pirates or skilled officers, but humans capable of maintaining connection across fifteen years of separation and change.

"And you?" she asked, her hand coming up to rest against his cheek. "What do you feel?"

Mingi's eyes held hers with characteristic directness. "Love you," he stated simply, the declaration delivered with absolute certainty despite its profound weight. "Always have. Always will."

The straightforward admission, unembellished yet containing depths beyond its minimal verbal presentation, affected Y/n more powerfully than elaborate declarations might have. This was Mingi – honest in all things, precise in his assessments, saying exactly what he meant without strategic calculation or unnecessary embroidery.

"I think I've always loved you too," she confessed, the words emerging with surprising ease despite fifteen years of careful self-protection. "Even when I couldn't remember exactly who you were, there was this space inside me that only you could fill."

Satisfaction settled across his features at her response, his arm tightening around her shoulders. "Good," he replied, the simple acknowledgment somehow perfectly adequate.

For several comfortable moments, they remained close despite their interrupted passion, Y/n’s head resting against his shoulder as their breathing gradually slowed to normal rhythm. Unlike awkwardness that might have followed such an interruption between others, their connection remained steady. 

"Wooyoung wasn't entirely wrong," Y/n observed eventually, reluctant humor warming her voice. "Yeosang would probably execute us both if we tore your stitches through... vigorous activities."

The ghost of a smile touched Mingi's lips. "Worth it," he stated, though his nod acknowledged the practical reality. "But can wait until healed."

"To be continued," she agreed, pressing a final kiss to his lips before sliding carefully from the narrow treatment bed.

As she straightened her clothing and helped Mingi adjust his position more appropriately for a recovering patient, Y/n found herself contemplating the complex constellation of relationships aboard the ATEEZ. Five men who had searched for fifteen years, each carrying their own form of devotion. Each important to her in ways both similar and distinct.

Hongjoong with his strategic brilliance and unexpected tenderness, remembering her as "Treasure" through fifteen years of searching. Seonghwa with his methodical precision and deep-seated guilt, arranging her quarters with careful attention while keeping emotional distance. Yunho with his gentle strength and endless patience, teaching her stars when surrounded by darkness. Wooyoung with his theatrical joy and perceptive understanding, making her laugh when laughter seemed impossible. And Mingi, quiet and watchful, creating beauty in wooden animals left like breadcrumbs across the maritime world.

Five different connections, five different forms of love, all directed toward her with unwavering commitment despite fifteen years of separation. The realization should have felt overwhelming, perhaps even frightening. Instead, it created unexpected warmth within her chest – not the heat of passion interrupted, but deeper contentment that transcended merely physical connection.

For someone who had survived fifteen years of captivity through strategic calculation and careful self-protection, this new reality represented unfamiliar territory beyond tactical assessment or practical evaluation. Yet somehow, aboard this feared pirate vessel with its mismatched family of determined souls, Y/n found herself open to possibilities she had never dared consider during those long years of isolation.

"What are you thinking?" Mingi asked, observing her expression with characteristic perception despite his continued recovery.

Y/n smiled, genuine and unguarded in a way she rarely permitted herself. "That finding all of you was worth fifteen years of waiting," she replied honestly. "Even with Wooyoung's terrible timing."

Mingi's answering smile – not the ghost of one or hint of one that occasionally appeared, but genuine expression that transformed his features completely – was worth every moment of interrupted passion.

"Agreed," he stated simply. "Though next time, locking the door first."

Her laugh echoed through the medical bay, the sound carrying freedom beyond mere amusement.

After helping Mingi settle back into a more appropriate position for recovery, Y/n smoothed her clothing one final time and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her lips still tingled from his kisses, her skin warm where his hands had explored.

"I should go before Yeosang returns," she said softly. "He'd never let either of us hear the end of it."

Mingi nodded, though reluctance was evident in his eyes. "Come back later little shadow?"

"Of course puppy," she promised. "Try to rest until then."

The ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Difficult now. Have better things to think about than sleeping."

His uncharacteristically playful response drew a laugh from her as she moved toward the door. With one last glance at Mingi – looking far too satisfied for someone still recovering from a serious injury – she slipped into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind her.

She had taken only three steps when she realized she wasn't alone.

Hongjoong leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed casually over his chest, watching her with unmistakable heat in his dark eyes. The captain's usual composed authority remained, but beneath it lurked something far more dangerous – and enticing.

"Captain," she acknowledged, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat. "I was just—"

"I know exactly what you were 'just' doing," Hongjoong interrupted, his voice low and rich with amusement. He pushed away from the wall with fluid grace, closing the distance between them in two measured steps. "Wooyoung was quite... descriptive."

Heat flooded Y/n’ cheeks. "Woo talks too much."

"Sometimes," Hongjoong agreed, a slow smile spreading across his features. There was nothing of the captain's usual strategic calculation in that smile – only pure masculine appreciation that sent fresh waves of warmth through her body. "Though in this case, I find myself grateful for his detailed reporting."

Before she could formulate a response, he moved closer still, his proximity forcing her back until she felt the corridor wall behind her. He didn't touch her – not yet – but the heat radiating from his body made her acutely aware of just how little space remained between them.

"Seems our gunner has been making excellent use of his recovery time," Hongjoong observed, his eyes dropping to her lips, lingering there before returning to meet her gaze. "I find myself envious of his... therapeutic approach."

Y/n swallowed, caught between embarrassment and an entirely different kind of heat that had nothing to do with being discovered and everything to do with the man now standing so close she could feel his breath against her skin.

"I didn't plan for that to happen," she said, the words emerging more breathless than intended. "It just... did."

Hongjoong’s hand finally rising to brush that same stubborn strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek in deliberate echo of Mingi's earlier touch. "I'm surprised any of us can maintain restraint at all, now that we've found you."

The simple acknowledgment – that all five of them felt the same powerful draw toward her – created fresh warmth spreading through her chest. Not merely desire but deeper connection that transcended physical attraction.

"And you, Captain?" she asked, finding unexpected boldness despite her position between the solid wall and his equally solid presence. "What's your excuse for cornering me in the corridor?"

Something dangerous flashed in Hongjoong's eyes – challenge recognized and accepted. "Perhaps I'm tired of waiting my turn," he murmured, his hand sliding from her cheek to cup the nape of her neck. "Perhaps finding you with Mingi made me realize how quickly things can change. How opportunities can be lost if one hesitates too long."

His fingers tightened slightly in her hair, not painful but possessive in a way that echoed Mingi's earlier touch while carrying Hongjoong's unique signature – deliberate control balanced with unmistakable intent.

"And what opportunity would that be?" Y/n asked, her voice dropping to match his hushed intensity.

Instead of answering with words, Hongjoong eliminated the remaining distance between them. Unlike Mingi's initially hesitant approach, the captain's kiss was confident from the first contact – claiming rather than exploring, taking rather than asking. His body pressed hers against the wall, one hand remaining tangled in her hair while the other settled at her hip, fingers digging into the curve with unmistakable hunger.

Y/n responded with equal fervor, her hands rising to grasp his shoulders, pulling him closer despite the voice of caution reminding her they were in a public corridor where anyone might discover them. The risk only seemed to heighten the sensation – the forbidden nature of being caught between wall and captain making every touch more electric, every sensation more intense.

When Hongjoong's teeth caught her lower lip in deliberate nip, she gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss further. His hand at her hip slid lower, fingers splaying across her thigh in possessive grip that had her arching into his touch despite the public setting.

"Treasure," he breathed against her lips, the childhood nickname transformed into something far more adult by the hunger in his voice. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? To all of us?"

Before she could respond, the sound of voices approaching from an adjoining passage forced them apart – Hongjoong stepping back with visible reluctance while Y/n attempted to compose herself despite her racing pulse and flushed skin.

They had barely achieved reasonable distance when Yunho and Seonghwa appeared around the corner, deep in discussion about ship repairs. Both men stopped abruptly upon seeing them, their conversation forgotten as they took in Y/n’s disheveled appearance and Hongjoong's unusual proximity.

"Captain," Seonghwa acknowledged, his precise gaze missing nothing as it moved between them. "Y/n. I thought you were with Mingi in the medical bay."

"I was," she confirmed, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'm just on my way to get some fresh air."

Something shifted in Yunho's typically gentle expression as his eyes moved from her flushed face to her slightly swollen lips. Unlike his usual warm concern, heat flared in his gaze – recognition of what had been happening moments before their arrival, and unmistakable interest in participating himself.

Seonghwa's response was more controlled, as always, yet even his precisely maintained composure couldn't entirely disguise the flicker of hunger that crossed his features before being carefully suppressed beneath quartermasterly efficiency.

"I see Wooyoung wasn't exaggerating for once," he observed, his tone measured despite the intensity in his gaze.

"Wooyoung has been quite informative this morning," Hongjoong agreed, not bothering to disguise the satisfaction in his voice. "Though I find personal verification significantly more... rewarding."

The implication hung in the air between them, Y/n playfully smacked Hongjoong on the arm. 

“Joongie!” She scolded with a laugh, earning a chuckle from the captain. 

Seonghwa hesitated before he began to ask, “Y/n if I could have world in private soon?”

Before she could respond, another voice joined the increasingly crowded hallway.

"Am I interrupting another private moment?" Wooyoung asked, appearing in the corridor. "Or is this particular encounter intended as a group activity? Because I must say, I'm delighted either way."

Despite her embarrassment, y/n couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Appreciating his ability to lighten any mood. 

"You've been quite busy this morning, haven't you?" she observed, finding her voice despite the overwhelming awareness of being surrounded by five men whose gazes all held varying degrees of unmistakable hunger.

"Just fulfilling my duties as ship's intelligence officer," Wooyoung replied with an exaggerated bow. "Ensuring all relevant parties are appropriately informed of significant developments."

"And embellishing those developments with your characteristic flair, no doubt," Seonghwa added dryly. 

"I merely reported what these eyes witnessed," Wooyoung protested, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Though I admit, had I arrived a few minutes later, I suspect there would have been considerably more to report."

Hongjoong's low chuckle – a sound that contained both amusement and something far more dangerous – drew all attention back to him. The captain's natural authority reasserted itself despite the unusual circumstances, his strategic mind clearly working through implications and possibilities even in this most personal of situations.

"I believe we should continue this discussion elsewhere," he decided, his gaze returning to y/n with unmistakable intent. "Unless our newly discovered crew member has duties requiring immediate attention?"

Y/n found herself surrounded by five pairs of eyes, each containing unique variation of the same fundamental desire. Hongjoong's calculating heat, Seonghwa's precisely controlled hunger, Yunho's gentle but unmistakable want, Wooyoung's theatrical yet genuine interest, and through the closed door behind her, Mingi's quiet but absolute claim.

Five men who each carrying their own form of devotion, each important to her in ways both similar and distinct. The realization should have felt overwhelming, perhaps even frightening. Instead, it created unexpected thrill within her – not merely physical desire but deeper recognition of possibility beyond anything she might have imagined during those long years of captivity.

"No urgent duties," she replied, finding unexpected confidence despite the intensity surrounding her. "Though I do need to check back on Mingi."

"Mingi has had his turn," Wooyoung observed cheerfully, though something more serious lurked beneath his theatrical delivery. "It seems only fair the rest of us have equal opportunity for private conversation, wouldn't you agree?"

The implication – that what had begun with Mingi might continue with any or all of them – hung in the air with unmistakable clarity. Y/n looked between them, seeing not competition but shared understanding flowing beneath surface tension. These men had built lives around searching for her; there would be no petty jealousy or possessive demands, only mutual recognition of connection that transcended conventional limitations.

"I believe that's for y/n to decide," Hongjoong stated, his captain's authority tempering the heat in his gaze. "Without pressure or expectation."

"Of course," Seonghwa agreed immediately, his quartermaster's precision bringing structure to potentially chaotic situation. "Personal agency remains paramount regardless of... mutual interest."

"Always your choice," Yunho added, his gentle nature reasserting itself despite the continued warmth in his eyes. "In all things."

"But should you find yourself inclined toward exploring these newfound possibilities," Wooyoung concluded with characteristic flair, "I believe I speak for all of us when I say we would be delighted to accommodate your curiosity. Individually or collectively, depending on your preference."

Y/n felt heat rising to her cheeks again, though not from embarrassment alone. The power of their collective attention, the certainty of their unified desire, created intoxicating awareness of possibilities she had never permitted herself to consider during those long years of careful survival.

"I think," she said carefully, finding surprising steadiness despite the intensity surrounding her, "that we should take things one step at a time. Though I appreciate knowing where everyone stands."

"Or could potentially lie," Wooyoung quipped with exaggerated eyebrow waggle that broke some of the corridor's tension, drawing reluctant smiles even from Seonghwa.

"Perhaps we should allow y/n some space," Yunho suggested, his typical consideration prevailing despite the heat that still lingered in his gaze.

"Agreed," Hongjoong nodded, though his eyes held promise of continued exploration when circumstances permitted. "We can manage a few more hours without overwhelming our newest crew member."

“As I was saying before, I would like to speak with you privately little dove?” Seonghwa said, a slight blush creeping his face at his slip of using the nickname. 

A whistle come from Wooyoung, earning a playful scowl from Seonghwa before he turned back to Y/n. “I assure you my only goal is to speak with you, not to do..other activities.” He blushed again. 

Y/n smiled brightly, joy overtaking her now that Seonghwa was speaking with her again. “Of course Hwa, we can speak privately whenever you wish. No formal invitation required.”

As the impromptu gathering dispersed – Seonghwa and Yunho returning to their ship duties, Wooyoung heading toward the galley with theatrical backward glance, Hongjoong moving toward the upper deck after one final heated look – y/n found herself alone in the corridor, her heart still racing from the unexpected intensity of the encounter.

Something had fundamentally shifted aboard the ATEEZ, barriers falling that had seemed immovable only days before. What had begun as simple reconnection following fifteen years of separation had transformed into something far more complex – and exciting – than she could have anticipated when first boarding this vessel as "Ella."

As she made her way toward the observation deck, needing fresh air to clear her head, y/n found herself contemplating the extraordinary turn her life had taken. From property passed between owners to woman desired by five extraordinary men who had spent fifteen years searching for her. From careful survival through strategic calculation to freedom of genuine choice and authentic connection.

Y/n was filled with thoughts racing through her mind. Intimacy would require her to show her scars, she had been lucky with Mingi not noticing. How would this change her dynamic with them all? Would it be permanent? 

As she looked towards Hongjoong, who was watching her with a look that sent shivers through her, she knew one thing for certain. She had opened a new door between them all, one she couldn’t wait to explore. 

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[lovesoakedd]

STOLEN TREASURE, SEIZED BY THE THROAT

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 contains: oc x oc, 9.4k words, porn with plot ig, LESBIAN SEX (cishet men + minors dni), teasing, fingering, degrading, praise, corruption kink, throat-grabbing and light choking, kinks that weren't negotiated beforehand, dubious consent, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, face smacking, squirting, heart-to-heart about overbearing parents + gender, mentions of violence

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 about characters + language used: jack: (pls no I did NOT name him this because of jack sparrow 😭): transmasc butch, he/him, only bodily description is of his hands mina: she/her, called a girl, terms used for her body include: "pussy," "cunt," "clit," "breasts," "tits," breasts are described as having a weight to them that makes them bounce

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 taglist: @lovethousand

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 ao3 link: here

“You know, of all the things I expected my crew to bring to me today, I didn't expect it to be a little thief. You have no worth, no one who’ll pay for your ransom, and now, I have to deal with another mouth to feed.”

When all Jack was met with was silence, he turned around, hands propped on his hips. “Well?”

The girl in front of him should have been meek after having been caught like this, her hand buried in the loot from the ship they had ransacked last week, eager fingers grasping at amethyst and smiling in wonder. Honestly, she had been so poorly obvious about it that Jack couldn’t help but assume that it was her first time. It had to be – who else would be stupid enough to sneak into a ship resting at port, thinking that there’d be no members of the crew there guarding the treasure?

But, the girl – Mina, she said her name was – is staring at him with burning, bright eyes, her mouth clenched into a firm line, as though she’s just moments away from lashing out like a wild animal. Not that that particularly scared Jack – he had been in this business long enough to know exactly how to ease wild things into submission. 

“If my presence here is so useless,” she says coolly, narrowing her eyes. “Then, just let me go. You don’t need me here.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jack muses, eyeing her up and down. In all honesty, he’s not too bothered by this turn of events – such happenings have been a common occurrence over the years. He has no intention of punishing any of the fools who dare to attempt thievery with him. From his experience, slight punishment and the humiliation of being caught are enough to have people on their way and making atonement. “Which is why you’ll be dropped off at the second port we reach after this one, and we’ll call it a day.”

She splutters, looking up at him with bulging, disbelieving eyes. “The second next port? Are you insane? It’ll take me weeks to return back to my city.”

Jack shrugs. The punishment he’s bestowing is one entirely too graceful for this situation. This girl should be on her knees, begging for mercy and thanking him for not slicing her throat out and leaving her to drench the floorboards. Instead, she only seems even more indignant that he’s sparing her in such a manner. If she was a thief who, like most in that career, had been bred to steal since birth, then she’d know that Jack is being unnecessarily generous with her life. 

No, this is the indignancy of someone higher up. This is the entitlement of someone who’s never faced the harsher, crueller punishments of this world before.

“It’s an inconvenience, that’s for certain, but by no means impossible.”

She scoffs, and Jack’s mouth twitches in amusement. “It’s ridiculous, is what it is. If you’re not going to kill me, just bring me back to the port where I was caught.”

This is exactly what Jack means. She speaks about her own death with such unwavering confidence, as though she’s completely certain that not a blade can penetrate her skin. Her skin, which isn’t roughened or scarred by years of labour or crime. How did Jack not realize it sooner? This girl is the picture of blue blood. 

“We’ve already set sail,” he says coolly, leaning on the beam supporting lower decks. “I’m not going to inconvenience my crew just to make things easier.”

“But, you’re inconveniencing me, and–”

“And?” Jack asks, cocking his head as he slowly saunters over. When he reaches Mina, whose eyes are wide with what he suspects is shock at his proximity, he lowers himself, crouching down to her height from where she sits on the hammock. “What exactly do I owe you? You make a feeble attempt to steal from me, I spare you, and you’re whining about having to travel back home?”

Her lashes flutter, mouth parting in surprise. Jack’s eyes flicker down, swallowing hard at the sight of her lips, softened probably by some expensive oil they’ve got down there. “I’m not whin–”

“Shut up,” Jack murmurs, grabbing her jaw, privately relishing in how undignified she looks when her cheeks are squished in his grasp. 

“I–”

“No,” he says, his voice lowering to the kind of consulting one might reserve for a stubborn dog. “Release the attitude.”

Her lovely throat, so unmarked, so innocent, bobs as she swallows down his words, her glossy eyes frozen on him.

With a satisfied hum, he gently pushes her face away, his tight grip freeing her cheeks. “Good. Now, if you’re gonna be a thorn in my ass–”

“It’s thorn in your side–”

“Then, you might as well make yourself of some use.”

“Meaning?”

He lets his gaze rove over her, taking in the swell of her breasts revealed from the tight pinch of her fabric. The cleavage is just barely revealed, the dip of it peeking from the neckline. He licks his lips, feeling a throb from between his thighs. When was the last time he had such an innocent, lovely little brat like her bent over his knees?

She shifts, a hand flying up to her bosom. When his eyes languidly roam up to her face, his mouth twitches at the sight of her downturned mouth and sharpened gaze.

“How dare you stare at me like that?” she gasps, reeling back.

He snorts, taking note of the way her chest rises up and down rapidly. “I apologize. As for your task, you can empty the piss bucket.”

“The– I, what?”

“Servants have probably been doing it for you for years,” he snarks, stepping back to unlatch the door and return to the upper deck. 

“Servants? How did you–”

Before she can finish her sentence, he’s already slammed the door, amusement bubbling in his stomach from her little show of defiance. 

–

Mina had really anticipated for this experiment to have gone differently. 

After weeks upon weeks of the rope set in place around her neck beginning to wind tighter and tighter, she had grown weary, crumbling under the weight of her mother’s constant demands. As well as desperate, the expectation of a soon-to-come offer of engagement haunting her innermost thoughts every night. It sent her stomach pulsing with anxiety, and every nerve in her body pinching until she was restless. 

So, she had hatched a plan. If she couldn’t find freedom within her city due to the power her parents wielded, she’d find it outside of its parameters. 

She had heard of the crew stationed at the docks, and knew of their mercy. Unlike other pirates, they’re infamous for having a captain who isn’t a man, and a set of morals that only permits murder if abuse or significant stealing takes place on their ship. Which, yes, is not the most comforting of sentiments, but when one is as desperate as Mina, it sounds like good odds.

And so, her plan had been to sneak onto the ship, and hopefully, as much of a stretch as it was, secure a place there temporarily. Just anything to buy her some time, far from her family. A half-year of freedom was better than nothing. And she can hide it behind the excuse of being taken by force in order to avoid punishment from her parents. They’d never believe that she was a willing participant.

And yet, she couldn’t even manage to accomplish that much, caught red-handed with her fingers brushing reverently over the gems found on deck. The pads of her finger had barely brushed the edges of one before two men had yanked her by her shoulders, dragging her into a rotten-smelling room filled with hammocks, and tossing her ungracefully onto the floor. It’s the roughest treatment she had ever dealt with before, and her entire body had grown hot in humiliation.

Unfortunately for her, though, the unceremonious handling had continued as a common theme that day, with the captain soon emerging through the door, wide-shouldered and strong. He had been all curt words and laughing eyes, shaking around her face as though she were a child receiving reprimands.

He was smart, too. More than Mina had anticipated. They had only spoken for ten minutes at maximum, and somehow, he had caught onto the fact that she was bred of wealth and money. 

It’s embarrassing, really, just how obvious she was. 

It’s not like she’s unaware of her privileged stature, and how that may show in her day-to-day life, just as Jack’s upbringing made itself evident in his lack of hesitation in physical contact. A lack that never existed in the refined, self-contained world she came from, built off the bars of self-restraint. But, still, she thought she wasn’t so spoiled that her upbringing immediately swivels its ugly head upon her first interaction with a person.

And, Lord, was she wrong about that. And about how much of an adventure this would be. Instead of getting a taste of freedom, she’s been declared a burden whom the crew plans to unload two stops from now – in just a month and a half. And then, she’ll have to deal with the chaos of trying to get back home. How lovely.

And to pour salt into the wound, rubbing and fingering until she’s practically seething in pain, she’s so ridiculously seasick. 

On her fourth day of vomiting profusely over the edge of the ship, wincing as it splatters along the side, her face twists in contempt when she hears Jack’s laughter. It’s a familiar sound at this point – rough, low, coated in silk. She absolutely despises it, for it makes her feel small and weak. She’s accustomed to walking with the confidence of her family’s roots following behind her like a dark shadow. Here, though? She’s stripped bare of it, left with nothing but the painful self-awareness of just how incapable she is. A fact Jack never fails to remind her of. 

“Need me to hold your hair back, princess?” he taunts, his strong arms hanging off the edge as he watches her thoughtfully.

She ducks her head down, her guts tightening under the weight of his stare. “No, thank you.”

“You sure? Would hate for all the time that went into those tresses to go wasted,” he muses, lifting a long finger and twining it about in the hair hanging by her shoulder.

She sneers, leaning back from his touch, nearly shivering when the rough skin of his fingertip scrapes against her cheek. “I suppose you find amusement in such luxuries.”

“I would, but it does make for pretty things like you, so I can’t find it in myself to complain.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to stifle the flutters raging in her stomach from knowing he actually thinks her pretty. She should not, absolutely not, grow any sort of affection or attachment to any of the crew members here. She is to leave in six weeks, not to mention the fact that they’re unkempt, roguish, always mocking her, belittling her and laughing at her expense. She cannot believe she once thought she’d manage multiple months here, months that in her idealized thoughts, were anticipated to be filled with euphoria and all sorts of freedom. 

Instead, all she’s getting is a total of two months on board. And as of now, it seems it’ll be nothing but seasickness and writhing, aching shame from being the common joke.

“Don’t flatter me,” she rasps out, pressing a cloth, scented with lavender, to her nose.

“Do I really appear that disingenuous?” he drawls out, his head cocked at her.

“You steal for a living,” she deadpans. “Of course I don’t store faith in your ability to be genuine.”

“And yet, you came here, anyways.”

She stiffens, acutely aware of the hypocrisy that turns her thoughts so rancid.

“Why?” he prods, his eyebrow raising. His tone isn’t mocking, for once, but genuinely earnest. “Was it curiosity?”

Torn between wanting to answer just to be rid of him versus the desire to seek some knowledge from the years of experience he clearly has obtained, she answers. “It was too difficult to remain at home. I wanted to experience something entirely different, something on the other end of the spectrum.”

“You thought I would keep you on the ship to give you that?”

A twinge of embarrassment blooms in her chest and she grinds her teeth down. “For longer than a mere two months.”

He sighs, extracting his gaze from her in favour of the horizon. “I can’t do that. You’re of no use here.”

It’s strange, for it’s not like she’s been relishing in her time here. All her five senses have been plagued with some new form of torture since her first day, she has become something of a laughing stock, and being amongst people so damned efficient only highlights how little self-sufficiency she’s sustained over the years of spoils and riches. But, still. To hear herself be rendered to something useless that they cannot afford to keep because she provides that little help – it stings something terrible.

“I’m aware,” she bitterly grits out. “I just wanted a chance to–”

“Seize some freedom?”

When she says nothing, he taps his long fingers on the railing, eyes seeming glazed over as he speaks slowly, as though carefully selecting every word. “I understand that feeling. I was not, well, born to this lifestyle.”

When she sends him a questioning glance, he scoffs. “No, I was not blue-bellied. My father was a merchant. But, a traditionalist, nonetheless.”

“One who I suppose didn’t take kindly to…” she trails off, her eyes falling over his body.

“No. One who indeed did not take kindly to it,” he confirms, his eyes steady and cold like steel.

Yet, somehow, admirably enough, he doesn’t sound angry. Despite the injustice of having to succumb to piracy in order to live his life as he pleases, he does not sound bitter or sour about the ordeal. In his tone, there is the tired edge of resignation, paired with the sharpness of resolve. As though his father’s rejection only further refined and solidified the basis of his determination. 

“Do you ever imagine how it would be if things were different?” she asks quietly. While her parents grate her to no end, she cannot possibly imagine having a life outside of them. The only concerning aspect of that notion is that she’s unsure if it’s due to genuine affection or having never possessed the choice of an alternate path.

“When I was younger, more innocent, perhaps.” He shrugs, as though the topic is one of little consequence to him, though she can see the way his lips purse together. “As a child, it used to frustrate me to no end. I was convinced that as his child, he ought to be proud of me for mirroring him. In fashion, in stance, all of that. When I saw he gave none of that approval to me, but to my brother, it made me seethe with envy.”

She feels a pinch of sympathy in her stomach, her eyebrows drawing together in focus. She supposes she understands that. Even growing up herself, femininity was only permitted to present itself in very specific, self-contained ways. There was no creativity she was allowed to take with it, no freedom, no broken expectations. There was a regime, a certain path to follow in order to prove herself a woman. She fought and fought, but eventually, it became easier to be lured into complacency. To snap at the maids who tore her dress, to angrily throw an outfit at the wall when it became mud-stained. It’s those little moments of rage that give her some comfort, some relief, while still managing to uphold the front that she is on the correct path to womanhood.

“I understand,” she mutters, the words tasting foreign when said towards Jack. “My family is difficult regarding appearances and identity, too. Though, I suspect our problems are quite different. But, I…” she trails off, hoping he will not laugh at her. “I’m sorry, nonetheless. I can imagine how angering it is.”

He’s silent for a few moments, and she dares not look at him, humiliation beginning to swell in her. How stupid it is to compare her experiences to his. Any pain she’s felt has probably been thrusted upon him tenfold.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, absentmindedly scratching at his forehead. “I’m fine now, though. It was once angering, that’s for certain. But, I have grown to detach from it.”

“How long does it take to accomplish that?” she asks, clenching her teeth together.

“Years. But, don’t rush yourself. Feeling that sense of hopelessness should be the last resort.”

“I’m already teetering on the edge of it.”

He huffs an amused laugh. “I can tell. Sneaking onto a pirate ship for a world of adventure? It’s the stuff of fiction.”

She glares at him, instinctively smacking his arm. “Well, fiction has been a constant companion for years.”

“Huh, that makes the lack of personal boundaries more understandable,” he muses, giving a pointed glance to where she just hit him.

“You’re one to speak! You were barely an inch away from me when we first met!”

“And are you to tell me you truly didn’t enjoy that?”

Mina splutters from the screeching shift to flirtation, feeling as though her mind becomes crushed into something malleable, unable to weave together proper sentences. Jack is watching her carefully, like a predator lurking within the bushes, peeking at her unabashedly through the leaves and vines. As though she’s for his taking.

She clears her throat, trying to ignore the almost nauseating roll of anticipation that courses through her stomach. “I did not. You’re a stranger.”

“And? That doesn’t stop me from feeling something of a… carnal nature for someone.”

Her eye twitches. “That’s because you were most likely raised to perceive sex as anything other than the meaningful union of two people in love.”

He chuckles, the timbre of it so smooth and husky, like the dollop of caramel that was planted on those cakes that had been served upon her seventeenth birthday. She wonders how such a sound would taste solidified – if it’d be just as smooth and thick as the sweet nectar that had seeped into her tongue those years ago.

“It’s meaningful, but something can be meaningful without love.”

“Coming from a pirate – typical, but unsurprising.”

The dimple by the corner of his mouth deepens. And as does his mischief, it seems, for he steps closer to her, the weight of his body a steady heat against the breeze of the ocean.

“You are to tell me that if you had the chance to experience such touch, even once, before the wedding night to a man you’ll inevitably one day be forced into the arms of, you wouldn’t take it?”

She gulps, keeping her head pinpointed down, gaze honed in on the rolling, crystal blue waves. “Yes.”

She stiffens as he moves closer, his mouth edging to her ear, breath warm and moist as he breathes, “Not even one night of pleasure?”

“Not even a night,” she mutters, her voice beginning to tremble.

“Nor even hour upon hour of slow kisses, wet touches of a tongue, fingers that can reach places you didn’t even know existed?” he husks, his breath tickling the lobe of her ear and making a jolt of a shiver shoot down her spine.

She tries to suppress it by stiffening her posture, keeping herself upright lest her hips twitch or her body tremble. “Nor that.”

Out of spite, she almost wants to mention that she’s found every spot possible, and does not need his assistance, but she’s well-aware that revealing that will be to her utter demise. And so, she gently sinks her teeth into her tongue, holding back.

His fingers skim along the opening at the back of her dress, loosened from the usual confines her mothers insist on wearing. His fingertips are dry, slightly scratchy with calluses, and they’re infinitely tender along her soft skin. And somehow, that makes it harder to ignore. If he was rough, manhandling her, she could shrug him off, yell at him, dismiss him as a brute unworthy of her time. But, these gentle, soft touches promise a night of patience, one where he’d handle her body with something akin to reverence. 

It’s hard to resist the anticipation of that. Not that the rougher touches don’t have their merit too.

God, why did she think of that? Now, thoughts of Jack groping her are spilling through her mind, his large hands sinking into her ass, grabbing her by the tits to yank her forward. Pressing into her jaw, like he did on that first day, while he hovers on top of her, leering and smiling.

His hand splaying out, palm pressing into her back, is what awakens her from the stream of lewd thoughts and she jerks away, sending him a sharp glare. Though, snapping her head at him momentarily sends their noses brushing, which makes her reel back. God, even the mere tip of his against hers has her face feeling like it’s set aflame. 

“You seem very sure,” he mutters, eyes roving along her features as though they have all the time in the world.

She scoffs, pulling away further. “Well, I am.”

She absolutely, irrevocably is not sure. 

–

Jack is certain she isn’t either when one night, he has a pretty little thing on his lap, his breath moist on her neck, hands squeezing at her thighs beneath her skirts. For one second, his eyes are tracking her plunging neckline, skimming languidly along the dip of her cleavage, and then, he’s spotting Mina, peeking through the open entrance of the tavern.

He spots her so quickly that he doubts she notices, ensuring that his gaze flicks back to the woman taking residence on his lap. He wants to see just how long he can draw this out and wring out her innocent curiosity. Though, deep in his gut, he’s slightly impressed that she actually had the gall to sneak off the ship.

While he’s certain that Mina believes him to be a cruel dictator for deciding she only gets to leave the ship upon the second port they stop at since her arrival, he has his reasons. One of them being that the first port they’d reach, the one they’re currently stationed at, is much too dangerous to secure Mina a safe passage to her home city. And secure Jack plans to, an additional part of her departure he hasn’t told her of yet. He has to keep her on her toes somehow. Spoiled thing she is, she deserves the punishment of nervous anticipation. 

He had firmly told her earlier that she was to spend the rest of the evening on the ship, with the spare men who chose to stay back rather than spend a spirited few hours in town. She had frowned and stomped, demanding for a night off of what she called “this stifling, suffocating ship,” but he hadn’t faltered, simply patting her cheek and ordering her to stay put.

Judging by the insolence she’s currently embodying, he supposes he ought to have been more stern on her. Lord knows what could have happened if she had run into the wrong sort of company and had gotten harmed. The tavern isn’t far from where the ship is docked, yes, but in this town, any distance is harmful if you don’t have the correct skills to protect yourself. And judging from Mina’s lack of motor skills whenever the ship sways or bumps, constantly tripping over her skirts and tumbling to the ground, she very much does not.

The only benefit is the molten desire beginning to stir in his stomach, pooling low and making him throb. The knowledge of her being there, eyes caressing his form as he takes care of the woman giggling in his lap and rubbing the tight muscle webbed in the back of his neck, has him biting back a grin. It was crystal clear from their talk a few weeks ago that deep inside, perhaps even past the bounds of her own awareness, she desired sex. It was clear in the way she downright trembled from his touch, goosebumps erupting over her skin when he muttered low in that way he knows has people writhing. 

He’ll give her some satiation. Just a bit for tonight. Though, he’d be lying if he said putting on a show for her was solely for her own sake. 

With a harsh clearing of his throat, trying to minimize the bubbling laughter rising up his throat, he presses his face deeper into the woman’s neck. His lips hanging open, he lathers soft, wet kisses to her neck. She releases a sweet gasp, the arm looped around his neck tightening as he places more pressure on the tender skin, his open-mouth kisses hard and pointed. When he reaches a spot under her ear, he pauses, his mouth encircling the patch of skin and sucking it slowly, his eyes shutting in concentration as her deep breaths soften into a long whine.

Meanwhile, his hand buries further under her skirts, slithering into the warm crevice between her thighs. He hisses when the tips brush against the tight coils of her hair, idly toying with them as he skims his teeth along her jaw. He loves this – methodically tugging out every small, uncontrollable noise, lavishing his attention until someone’s body becomes utter puddy, subjected to every overwhelming sensation he instigates. A canvas just waiting to be painted with marks, brushed over and stroked until a flaming array of colours are set to life behind squeezed eyes.

And knowing Mina – fiery, stubborn, petulant Mina – is watching it all unfold has his arousal strengthened by a tenfold. His thoughts drift to the wetness that must be seeping against her folds, the way she must be rubbing her thighs together as she watches them.

It pushes him on further, the hand cupping the woman’s waist raising to sink a finger between her chest and the fabric tightly enclosing it. He stubbornly tugs until her breasts lunge out, a deep groan rumbling in his chest at the sight of her perky nipples. He ducks down, taking one in his mouth, lips fondling the bud while his fingers rub delicately at the other. He can feel her beginning to rub her ass down on her lap, hips moving in slow circles as he toys with her sweet, sagging tits.

He can’t resist the urge pulsing through him, and mouth still on one tit, his eyes flutter open, locking right onto Mina.

Who is staring directly at him, hand pressing down to her mound. 

This time, he lets his gaze linger long enough to give her a few seconds to register having been caught. Her eyes bulge out, lips parting as she freezes in place, the slight movements of her arms immediately halting. He can sense her humiliation, her gaze beginning to skitter about, as though she’s torn between meeting his stare or slinking away into the dark night.

When she chooses the latter, concern shoots through him and he grits his teeth. Still causing him trouble, the menace. 

After ushering a very dissatisfied woman off his lap, murmuring a quick apology, he wipes the smear of wetness on his trousers, rushing out of the tavern.

As soon as he steps out, the cool air coats his skin, rubbing it until it’s tingling to the touch. His eyes carefully scan the street, panic beginning to flip in his guts as he searches through the night crowd buzzing along the lanes, laughing and engaging in all flavours of debauchery. Fuck, if she’s lost, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. 

When his head swings to the side and he finds her braced against the outside wall of the tavern, he feels his shoulders sag in relief. He rolls them before moving towards her, a prickling sense of self-awareness beginning to surge through him now that the heat of the moment has dimmed. 

“Why’d you come here?” he asks, halting right in front of her, hands settled on his hips.

“Why? Did I interrupt your time with that woman?” she snaps, eyes burning with fire as she stares at him pointedly.

He snickers softly, satisfaction trilling through him. Her meaning is clear as a summer sky, shining on him and casting him under the heat of her jealousy. “I’d much rather know what you’re up to out here.”

“Oh, so I’m a second option – is that it?”

His mouth twitches. He’s never able to resist draining pleasure from her rage. It’s simply too attractive to behold, and instigates a strong itch in him to discipline her. “There’s no competition happening here. This was simply an exchange of pleasure you caught sight of.”

“You are disgusting,” she spats out. “An exchange of pleasure? Is that all sex means to you?”

A twinge of irritation flickers through him, disliking the conclusions she is leaping to for yet the second time. Despite the days they have spent together, filled with banter and the occasional, more intimate conversation, she is still, by all means, merely an acquaintance. One who doesn’t possess the level of knowledge required to make such an accusation of him. 

“Not always. But, when I am spending a single evening off the ocean, finally surrounded by women other than my crewmates who I’ve known from years–”

“You haven’t known me for years.”

Jack’s frustration is stomped out with a spark of mischief upon her argument, which seems to have slipped out of her mouth without permission, judging by the way she immediately clamps it shut. 

“I’m aware,” he chuckles, taking a step closer to her, his chest brushing hers. God, it’s so shapely, hugged just right by that obnoxious, lace-trimmed dress she insists on wearing no matter how long she’s been on the ship for. “No crewmate of mine has ever been on the receiving end of so much ogling from me.”

Her throat, so lovely, so tempting to be marked, moves as she gulps. 

When it seems she’s been stunned into silence, he moves even closer, his body pressed firmly into hers, coaxing her back to fully plant against the wall. “And do you not consider yourself a hypocrite? Accusing me of my exchange of pleasure, when as I recall it, you, too, derived some pleasure out of it?”

Her breath hitches in her throat. “I–I did not–”

“You did,” he husks, his face slowly tipping towards hers. “I could see that haze in your eyes, that eager little hand. You were wanting, were you not? Playing a third to that woman and I?”

“I am no third–”

His hand gently closes over her throat. “Shut up.”

A breathless little moan is wrenched from her, and his smile curls up wickedly. Ah, there she is.

He squeezes gently, the dip of his nose pressing into her cheek as he greedily sucks in her scent. It’s a mix of saltwater, musky sweat and sweet perfume. He could get drunk off of it, sniffing it until it’s soaked into his mind, tinging every thought with her presence. 

“If I knew this is all it took to get you to quiet,” he muses, licking a warm, wet stripe along her cheek, “I would have choked you a lot sooner.”

Her body stutters when his other hand gropes her ass, nails digging in through the layers as he kneads the plush skin of it. He continues to plant, sloppy, dripping kisses across her cheek, down her jaw, the ministrations producing wet little squelches that have his stomach tightening in anticipation. 

“Ah,” she whines, her head lolling back, lightly thumping against the wall.

He slides his hand from her neck, cupping the back of her head to cradle it from the rough concrete as his soft little kisses draw closer to her mouth. Right as his breathing ghosts over it, the warm puffs from her mouth intermingling with his, he whispers, “Is this alright?” Beneath the lust, hot and aching in him, is the underbelly of concern. He knows she can’t be too experienced – in fact, perhaps she has none beyond her own hands. 

He leans back, carefully peering at her. 

She nods eagerly, licking her lips.

With a deep chuckle, he captures her lips in his. She’s immediately making her desire for him known, the folds and dips of her body molding into his as she wraps her arms around his neck, tugging him close to her. One hand still buried in her skirts, clutching onto her ass, his other arm wraps around her torso, holding her close as his mouth languidly explores hers, tongue slipping through to lick into her mouth, rubbing along her teeth and meeting her clumsy flicks with smooth, massaging strokes.

She eagerly bucks into him, her hips jolting forward without rhythm, and something in his chest swells. She’s like fresh fruit hanging low on the branches, so easy for the taking. 

“Someone is eager,” he drawls, his voice raspy with desire and his mouth moves back to her neck, nipping at the juncture where it curves into her shoulder.

She cries out from the prick of it, nails scratching at his back through his shirt and vest. “You’re so rude to me, so undignified, I hate– mmph,” she moans as he forces her into a bruising kiss, shoving his tongue into her mouth.

“Something tells me you need someone to treat you in all sorts of undignified manner,” he hisses against her mouth. “Just dreaming and aching to be taken as something other than fragile.”

Before she can respond, he’s silencing her with another harsh kiss, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip, chewing and sucking until it’s pink and swollen with his rough toying. And she’s all the more pliable, panting desperately against him as he tarnishes her mouth, turning it into a filthy pit of spit and teeth as her tongue chases him, drool spilling from the corners. It’s so slippery and wet, making him feel dizzy, and he parts from her to circle his lips around the pink muscle, sucking on it until her eyes are drifting shut, high whines creeping up her throat and tumbling out. 

When his hand strokes from her ass to her thigh, beginning to rack up the fabric of her dress, she freezes against him.

He immediately clenches tighter on her dress, pulling away to search her face for any signs of discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

Her gaze shifts to behind him before returning to his face. When he leans in, head tilted in curiosity, she whispers, “I want us to be alone.”

That sends a possessive bolt pulsing through him. Fuck, she wants them alone, away from any prying eyes – only belonging to each other in the throes of their pleasure. Only he will get to see her this way, and judging by her earlier anger, she most likely wants him only for her. The notion doesn’t make him feel even close to being controlled – rather, it makes him hot with desire. He very much likes the idea of belonging to her. 

Many long, seemingly everlasting minutes later, filled with Jack squeezing her ass and igniting hot, angry glares from her, they’re stumbling into his room, mouths clashing together. His rough hands are immediately at her dress, tugging at the stubborn laces and willing them to free her body to his ardent gaze. Everytime his knuckles brush along a sensitive spot on her body in the process of doing so, she releases another short-lived, sweet noise into the heat of his mouth, which later latches down to her neck, sucking bruising marks.

When he manages to get through the tight ribbons of her dress, unsheathing her body to his hungry gaze, he feels his mouth grow watery at the sight of her breasts. They’re so pretty, the weight to them giving a bounce that has his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head, mind whirring with thought of how they’d move when he fucks his cock into her.

And her nipples – God, they’re both erect in the chill of his room, swollen and wrinkled slightly at the edges. His lips tingle in desire for them, thumbs reverently brushing them, testing the waters to see how sensitive her untouched body is. When she twitches, he ducks down, taking one into his warm, wet mouth, tongue flicking along it until it’s dripping in his spit.

Her torso immediately juts out in response, her eyes squeezed shut, as though she cannot bear to see him making love to her body. She writhes delightfully from the light strokes from his tongue, clearly sensitive and unable to tame her reactions. But, he can sense the tension in her shoulders, the way her body is stiff and upright. 

He eases in close, his hands roaming over her tummy, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Kissing her cheek, he whispers, “You are a sight to behold.”

Her skin grows textured with tiny bumps, a shy laugh flowing from her lips. It makes him swallow hard, unaccustomed to hearing a noise so pleasant and vulnerable from her. It’s so different from the fiery, unattainable brat he’s come to know these past weeks, and it softens him to realize how much trust she’s storing within him to be this open. 

“It’s true,” he quietly insists, nibbling on her earlobe, soothing the sting with his tongue. “I’ll take good care of you.”

She shivers hard, and he pulls back with an amused quirk of his mouth. 

“Does someone like the sound of that?” he hums, coaxing her steps backwards, so that knees hit the edge of the mattress and send her flying into the luxurious, plush blankets. She curls into them like a cat, clearly having grown to miss such fine treatment when she’s in the duration of her sharing a room with the rest of the crew. He shrugs off his vest, smiling down at the sight of her so content.

“No,” she murmurs, the word so lazy that there’s barely a lick of conviction in them. He knows she’s just being a brat for the sake of stubbornness. 

“No?”

The question seems to jolt her out of her relaxed reunion with a bed. Propping herself on her elbows, the spitting image of ruin with her dress shoved to her waist and her tits popped out, she tips her chin up in defiance. “No.”

He rolls up his sleeves. “Oh, we’ll see how well that holds up.”

In a matter of seconds, too fast for her untrained eyes to anticipate, he has her pressed stomach-down into the mattress, his fingers holding onto her dress with a death grip as he drags it down. She whines into the pillow, her hips wiggling in what he assumes is a split between eagerness and humiliation. Pressing his face in the spot between her shoulder blades, licking long stripes along the skin until she’s sheen with his mark, he tugs the dress down, pinching her undergarments along the way, moving and moving until she’s completely nude. 

His hands are immediately on her ass, massaging and pushing the cheeks together and apart. His thumbs dip into the gap, using the grip to open up her ass, licking his lips at the sprinkle of hair running down her ass and then spreading wide at her pussy. And fuck, her pussy. It’s coated in arousal, glinting under the dim light of the night sky, practically begging to be fucked whole with something.

“God, you’re so desperate,” he mumbles, his thumb pushing down to playfully brush at her folds.

She bucks against the mattress from the touch, her words shaky as she mumbles, “It’s not my fault, you did this to me!”

He smirks at the accusation of her tone. “Do I have to bend you over my knee to get you to shut up?”

Face half-pressed into the pillow, she sends him a wide, doe-eyed look.

His hold on her ass tightens painfully at the revelation, eyes hooded and trained on her. “You’re such a whore, I swear.”

“And you’re such a–”

He doesn’t give her the time to finish, his palm coming down to deliver a sharp smack to her ass, sending the fat of it jiggling. When she cries out, her eyes screwing shut, his voice softens to a coo, murmuring, “Sweet girl, I’m sorry. You’ll do better, right? Make sure I don’t have to do that again?” As he speaks, his hand strokes at the hot patch of skin.

“You think I’m just going to– ah!”

Her words shatter into a loud wail as he smacks her ass again, this one harder and sending the noise bouncing off the walls. He takes an utter, shameless delight in how she crumbles under his harsh touches, so pliant in how she sinks further into the blankets, burying her face into the pillow as she keens. She’s impossibly endearing – such a sharp, stinging mouth, but so easy to turn into complete mush, malleable and weak to influence.

Before she can talk, he gives her two more consecutive ones, darkly laughing from the way her body gets so tender from it, wriggling as tears gush from her eyes. He takes a sadistic sort of satisfaction in seeing her finally broken down like this, her insistent attitude finally crumbling to a complete stop. And how goddamn sweet it is, seeing Mina, his Mina, soft and sensitive, entrusting him to look after her and give into all of her needs, no matter how dark and salacious. He wants to relish in this success, as well as for her to fully embrace it – embrace both the loss of control and her great pleasure, which is perhaps one of the only times she’ll experience it in her lifetime.

The thought makes his jaw clench, but he shoves it away, choosing to lean into a very different idea that flares to life in his mind.

“Roll on your back, then sit up,” he commands, kicking off his boots.

And finally, to his deep pleasure, she obeys.

–

Mina’s back to Jack’s chest, he keeps her legs spread open, grabbing her jaw and coaxing her to look at herself in the reflection of the mirror across from them. She immediately squirms at the sight, her tummy clenching in pointed embarrassment. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, creating silky strings of liquid along the tuff of hair there, clinging to the pad of his finger as he draws the digit along her pussy, dipping it near her hole. She clenches on nothing feeling her insides scrape with the desire to be filled.

“You want it?” he mutters close to her ear. 

Her hips shift instinctively on the bed, excitement thumping through her body as she feebly nods. She’s only ever had her own fingers inside of her before. But, Jack’s consistent concern throughout the evening has her more relaxed than she ever thought she’d be capable of during her first time. A first time that was always envisioned with the shadow of a man, face blocked out, downright unbearable for her to look at.

So different from Jack, whose face she wants to drink up so badly that she’s willing to face the sight of her own in the mirror.

His long finger sinks in just barely, prodding gently. His nail just barely brushes the rim of her hole, making her hips flinch in want. She just wants him to sink, bury and claim her. Her mind is almost delirious with the want of it – it’s scary, terrifying even, to be so clouded by her own bodily desires, shameful and depraved. But, every nerve in her is so drenched in the need for it that she cannot even muster enough self-deprecation to stop him.

His finger slowly inches in her, passing through her tight entrance and filing out her hole, which immediately latches onto him, as though her body is urging her to trap him inside forever and never let him go. The unfamiliarity of someone else’s finger in her has her squirming, the lack of guidance she holds over the act making every movement inside her feel all the more important, her body caught off guard with every twitch and push. 

When his finger has fully slid in, the tip already pushing into that special spot tucked deep away in her, he groans right in her ear, “There you are.”

The words, purred with equal measures cockiness and pleasure, have her tightening around him immediately. His long, thick finger in her has her burning with the ache of it – but, it’s not bad, not at all. In fact, it has the deep ache that’s been pumping through her pussy finally sated. And the relief is immense.

She thinks it can’t get better until he starts rocking his finger inside of her, her walls sucking him in each time he dips back in, pleading for him to stay. But, he never strays too far, his finger still half in her before plunging again, getting harder, less relenting, with each thrust. The throb of it has her whining, her head laying upon his shoulder as he wraps an arm around her tummy, bracing her to his steady body as he fucks her languidly. 

When his second finger is met with resistance, he hums coyly. “Someone hasn’t toyed with the rules much, has she?”

“Well, with my schedule, I– oh,” she breaks into a moan when his second finger begins nudging her entrance, “it’s hard to manage time for exploration.”

He leans over to his bedside table, pulling out a screeching drawer. “And what exactly are you doing in this busy schedule?”

When she doesn’t answer, lost in the flex of his shoulders as he leans over the bed, he rebukes her with a rough jerk into her pussy.

She bounces from it, a staggering gasp shooting from her lips. “I–I attend business meetings with my father, I arrange events with my mother–”

“Very lively,” he mutters, using his teeth to pop the knob off.

“It is,” she defends. Though, she doesn’t add that it’s only lively to some, her being excluded from that group. While it keeps her busy, most definitely, it is the kind of occupation that leaves her empty at the end of the day. Nothing fulfilling is tied into it, no real, authentic joy derived from the meetings and engagements bordered by social regime.

He kisses the back of her neck, and her mouth twists in emotion, the gesture feeling like a silent apology, a sympathetic link tethering them to each other, just as that first tender conversation they shared.

When he eases his finger out, spilling on it what she now realizes is oil, his touch is kinder, two fingers pushing into her slowly as she wraps tightly around him. A breathy moan escapes her lips, suddenly notching to a higher pitch when his other hand lowers and begins to rub on her clit, helping her through the sting. When it’s finally faded to a dull ache, she finds herself seized with the urge to have him take her carnally the way he once mentioned. She doesn’t want her body to be treated sweetly with the pity of someone who knows she has a lifetime of unhappiness ahead of herself. She wants to be fucked and debauched thoroughly. 

“That’s the best you can do?” she goads, her tone velvet-wrapped in arousal.

He snarkily laughs, the noise making her head spin. “Don’t insult me.”

His fingers begin jamming into her with a brutal intensity, making her release a strangled cry. With each severe, pointed press into the spongy spot buried deep in her, the tingles racing from her pussy to the rest of her body deepen, mind numb with pleasure.

“Look at how well you open up,” he rasps against her ear. “Like this cunt was made for fucking.”

She cannot bear to look at the mirror, his words humiliating despite being so, so good. His hand grabs her jaw, fingers smacking gently into her cheek, sending the skin rippling. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone stupid just from two fingers,” he mumbles lazily, kissing her cheek.

Out of sheer determination, she forces herself to look at the mirror, nearly gasping at the sight of his two girthy fingers pumping into her steadily, her hole completely swallowing him as sticky white streams of her arousal begin to wrap around his knuckles. Her entire body is painted with a thin layer of sweat, and she can feel it gathering in the crease beneath her breasts, sticky and wet. 

The nastiest squelches are coming from between her thighs, and his middle and ring finger rhythmically slide in and out of her, abusing her swollen, rubbery spot. When his other hand braces against her lower tummy, flattening to create a warm pressure, she jerks up in response. And God, does she look wanton in this state – hair sticking to her forehead, tongue lolling out, eyes half-lidded as he pushes every limitation. And the sight of Jack doesn’t ease her arousal at all – his face is contorted in stone focus, jaw clenched as he works her pussy as though he’s been exploring her body for years. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, meeting her wide-eyed, jittery gaze in the mirror, his own focused and direct. “You look so pretty like this. Such a pretty, wet little cunt. All she needed was some fingers, huh? And look how sloppy she’s getting.”

The sudden surge of dirty talk has her spiralling into unknown bouts of pleasure, her mouth falling open, unable to even begin meeting him halfway.

Just as everything, Jack picks up on it immediately, sending her a proud grin through the mirror before his hand starts groping her tits, pinching and flicking at her nipples mercilessly. “Such a mess, aren’t you? And here I thought you were so prim and proper. All you needed were some dirty hands fondling your tits and cunt, and you just turn into a downright whore.”

His words make her pussy cling onto him tighter, a thin liquid beginning to stream from her hole, slithering down to her ass. She can’t even respond, her body a rapid whirlwind of aching, throbbing, tightening, loosening, needing. Fuck, she needs him in any way possible. Oh, why did she say ‘fuck,’ that’s so–

His palm starts bumping steadily against her clit and she flails in his arms, tongue hanging out as she begins to teeter on the edge of her orgasm, grazing the edge and moments away from falling into the pit of it. It’s familiar, but so different when it’s someone else in control, predicting the course of her pleasure, taking care of her, predicting every move without her permission or knowledge.

He seems to sense her impending climax, biting her cheek, egging her on. “Are you going to come? Spasm all over my fingers, show me what a slut you’ve been all these years when locked up in that town? You’re going to arrive back home completely ruined, a lowly pirate having fucked you over–” he thrusts harder, “-- and over again.”

Those words send her tumbling over, a loud scream flying from her mouth as the tension in her tummy shatters into pieces, the remnants of it streaming through every muscle in her body, ringing it of all its strength as she becomes completely consumed with pleasure, with release, with Jack.

As she comes, the runny liquid comes pouring out, spilling along Jack’s two fingers and drenching his blanket. She knows she isn’t urinating, but the sensation has the same kind of release, a floating feeling encompassing her as she lets it gush from her pussy rather than hold back. Jack talks her through the entire thing, fucking her through it and panting, “Leaking so much for me. So wet, so good, so fucking sweet.”

As she twitches in the aftershocks, she sags back into him, one arm of his immediately circling her and holding her close. 

“I– might I..?” she trails off, gazing up at him curiously.

He seems to understand her question, his chest shaking with amusement. “Not tonight.”

She nods – while part of her would have enjoyed touching him, she understands his lack of desire to receive right now.

As their interaction simmers to silence, she fidgets. She does not know the rules that pair with these sorts of encounters. If they were in love, she would ask that they sleep in this bed together and that he hold her close for the night, the two of them exchanging gentle kisses and giggling over what had just transpired.

But, Jack is not a lover. And while that notion would have brought her relief a month ago, now it leaves a bitter burst in her mouth. For she would like to settle into his arms, listen to his heartbeat and memorize the pattern of his breathing as they fall into mutual slumber.

Suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of curling deeper into him, then being slapped in the face with rejection, she slowly peels herself away, muttering, “Well, I should–”

Not a second passes before his arm presses against her ribs, holding her to the bed. “Where are you going?”

“We’re done, so I assumed...” Now, she feels even more embarrassed. What if her dismissal had hurt him? What if doing this is even odder than simply seeking affection from him post-coitus? “I’m sorry.”

He says nothing for a few moments, but she can feel his thoughtful gaze lingering on the side of her face.

Then, finally, a kind, soft, “Come here.”

He tends to her without hesitation, easing her to spread her legs so that he may wipe her clean with a soaked rag, changing the blanket that became soaked through, and then shrugging off his shirt and pants, leaving himself in a loose undergarment that hangs around his crotch. The entire time, she cannot bear to look at him, the domesticity and softness of the moment making her more unnerved than the sex itself. 

Just as before, his kindness makes it harder to resist, harder to think of leaving and soon no longer being by his side. She chews on her bottom lip, eyes burning as she forces her gaze to remain on the door handle. Just a few deep breaths, that’s all. She will not dare cry in front of him.

As it turns out, she also lacks the courage to avoid gazing upon him as he folds his clothes and tosses them into a corner of the room. His body, so handsome, so precious, is smooth in its motions as he slinks under the blanket. She finds herself bashful at the newfound intimacy of this. Both of them naked, lying in bed together, with nothing to fill the cup of this interaction but bodily touches that are warm, comforting and without ulterior motive.

To her surprise, he stretches an arm out, his dried lips blooming into an expectant smile. “Well? You will not leave me by my lonesome, right? That would not be very gratuitous of you.”

She laughs weakly, the familiarity of their banter a modicum of relief in this foreign territory. She hesitates, fear pinching at her mind, whispering in a dark, gravelly voice that this will only make things more difficult. That laying in his arms for the night will leave her with only more short-lived memories that haunt her.

But, as her eyes skim the rise and fall of his chest, she’s captured by the feral urge to rest her ear on his heart, and have the lullaby of it rock her to sleep. She craves him in a way that surpasses his skilled fingers and lewd words. She wants him just as he is now, in this casual state of undress, where all he can offer her is his company.

She shifts, then lays her head upon his shoulder, marvelling at how warm and toasty he feels against her. Her bare breasts squish into his side, and their legs tangle together, hairs intermingling as her toe brushes his shin and sends an obvious shudder up his spine. She pockets that information for next time.

Right as she is about to submerge herself in the pond of rest, his voice quietly comes through. “It would not be too bad, though.”

“What wouldn’t be?” she groggily murmurs, wanting to bite him for interrupting her sleep.

The steady pumps of his chest still for a few moments before he finally says, his voice stained with affection, “Another mouth to feed on the ship.”

[penkura]

last forever [13/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed without realizing how happy you would both become and the family you would create together.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and having a baby, that's all

Note: I didn't initially plan this. I was going to stop this fic at twelve chapters, but I felt like ch.12 was getting to be way too long so I broke it up and put the epilogue at the end of thsi one. Do not be surprised if I ever come back to this fanfic universe for one-shots or drabbles. This is shorter than I expected, but I'm happy with how it turned out, thanks for reading this fanfic, I hope you've all enjoyed it! :)

The latter bit is set ten years after chapter 12, Zoro is 31 and Reader is 30.

Taglist:

@misfits1a | @alucardsdaddyissues | @louweasleymalfoy | @fluffybunnyu | @yerrimm09 | @eyes-ofhell | @emmaiscool22 | @xenop0p | @hank88999

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8] ● [Ch. 9] ● [Ch. 10] ● [Ch. 11] ● [Ch. 12]

Your morning is quiet, despite Nami and Robin sharing knowing looks when you and Zoro entered the galley together for breakfast. Nami swears you're glowing and it grosses her out for a moment when she makes the suggestion to Robin who laughs, and says the three of you will need to have a girls night later to talk. No one asked where two had disappeared to the night before, it seemed like none of them had noticed, which you were grateful for. It kept you and Zoro from having to answer any awkward questions for the time being.

Zoro didn't notice or care, if someone had asked he would've told them, but still keep you from feeling embarrassed or anything, this is all still new to both of you of course. Breakfast goes by without anyone bringing anything up, even as Sanji gives you a smile that you return, discreetly showing him your ring and confirming that he was right, everything turned out okay so far.

Most of your day is spent doing the normal things you’ve always done, the Sunny is docked at an island for a restock, you choose to go into town with Robin and Jinbei, Zoro tried to go along but Nami pulls him back, telling you to go ahead while she takes your husband for help with other things. You don’t question it only because that’s completely normal, you don’t even question Robin in town when she tries to convince you to buy a pretty white dress you seem to be staring at. You try it on but don’t buy it, there’s no reason to.

“Are you sure, [Y/N]? It’d look lovely on you, I’m sure Zoro would think so too.”

“Nah, I don’t need it,” you laugh a bit as you go to look at something else that’s caught your eye, “Zoro doesn’t care what I wear anyway.”

“Mm…if you say so.”

You swear there’s something Robin isn’t telling you, even as you both try of different clothes and buy a few items, deciding you’ll bring Nami by later too, there’s plenty here she’ll like.

You do find it odd when Jinbei tries to get you to purchase a flower crown or a small bouquet of your favorite flowers for yourself, denying again that you really don’t need them. You’re not sure if you were imagining it or not, but you think the two share a knowing look with slight smiles as you head back to Sunny a while later.

When you make it back and see almost none of your crewmates around, you start to get suspicious something else is going on, especially seeing the way the ship deck is decorated to almost resemble a wedding, though with its own Straw Hat character, and Zoro waiting for you.

Face red, in a suit (that fits this time), and a bouquet of your favorite flower surrounded by daisies, heliotrope, and aster.

It dons on you immediately what Jinbei and Robin were doing, they were trying to get you ready for an impromptu marriage ceremony, but you didn’t catch on until now, you feel kind of stupid. Of course the white dress and small bouquet make sense now, even though Zoro hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t even notice you’re there at first, not until you say his name and he finally looks at you.

“Hey…you’re back.”

“What,” You’re trying hard not to cry but you can’t fight the smile that’s starting to creep onto your face as Zoro hands the flowers over to you, still nervous about this and maybe embarrassed over it, “What’s this about…?”

He’s quite for a moment, while you look over the flowers, a bright and happy look on your face. You know he’s had help with this, it’s what he and Nami were probably out buying while the others set things up.

“When we got married, legally, it wasn’t really a wedding,” scratching the back of his head, Zoro sighs just a bit before taking your hand and getting on one knee in front of you, returning the smile you’re giving him, “I know I was a stubborn ass about this for a long time, but you already know my thoughts on this, on us now…so I want to give you as real a wedding as I can. One you deserve.”

You have to stop yourself from laughing when it takes Zoro a minute to dig through the pockets he’s not used to find an engagement ring, one you don’t need but you figure Nami made him buy it just so you had one, even with your wedding band already on your hand.

“We’ve already got rings, and this time real witnesses,” you both can hear Luffy not so quietly asking Sanji for food before he's hushed and told to wait, everyone watching from the various places they’re hiding in, “Luffy’s ready to say whatever he needs to for us to be considered married on this crew, but I still have to ask you. So…will you marry me, for real this time, [Y/N]?”

“Of course, Zoro!” It’s not even something you can pretend to think about, not after everything you’ve gone through now. You throw your arms around him and Zoro hugs you close, there’s obvious relief like he was worried you’d changed your mind overnight while he tells you he loves you.

“Heyyy, can we do the ceremony now and eat?!”

“You idiot, she’s got to get dressed first!”

“Sanji made a great cake, it’s really sweet!”

“We were all glad when you went into town with Robin and Jinbei, we probably wouldn’t have gotten this all done if you hadn’t!”

“This is super great for both of you!”

“Yohohoho, I’ll get ready to play the wedding march then!”

“Mosshead, you better treat her right!”

“It’s wonderful to see you both happy now!”

“I may not have the full details of your circumstances, but congratulations to you both!”

You barely listen to your crewmates, your main focus being on Zoro and how this was pulled off so quickly, but you don’t bother to ask any questions, kissing your husband briefly.

“I suppose I should go get ready!”

“Yeah,” Zoro gives you a slight smirk before kissing your forehead, “I’ll be here, wife.”

Robin and Nami rush you off to your shared room to get you dressed, Robin having been sneaky and showing she’d purchased the dress she told you to buy, along with a small bouquet of flowers for you to carry. It’s nothing fancy, but that works perfectly with your relationship and how you’ve come together with Zoro.

Once they’ve got you ready the two go back to the deck to make sure everything and everyone is situated, sending Sanji after you a bit later, he’s agreed to be the one to give you away essentially, though you stop him just ad you’re about to head to the deck, he gives you a concerned look.

“Sanji, do you…do you think Zoro and I will last forever?”

Sanji takes a breath, before smiling and taking your hand as he lets it out.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a couple more destined to last than you two. Besides, I don’t think the mosshead is willing to wear a suit for just anybody.”

You laugh and agree, telling Sanji you’re ready before he leads you out to the deck.

It’s not a very long or formal ceremony, Luffy stumbles a few times trying to remember what he needs to say, he even gets choked up a few times when he thinks about how he’s seen you and Zoro go from a marriage born of convenience to now being in love and properly married. It almost gets to you as well, but you keep all your tears back, just a few slipping g out when Luffy tells Zoro to hurry up and kiss you which makes you laugh. You know Zoro hates public displays of affection, but he’s willing to look past it for you, only you he’d justify. After that Luffy shouts for the party to start, you and Zoro laughing together just a bit while he holds you close.

“Thanks for not giving up on me, wife.”

“Hmm, thanks for saving me, husband.”

Chopper is right, the cake Sanji made is sweet, you’re surprised Zoro even has some, that he mostly stays away from alcohol except when you bring him a drink later on. It prompts him to pull you to his lap, pressing a kiss to your cheek to make you giggle.

“What’s this for?”

“Nothing,” he sighs a bit, holding you closer and laying his forehead on your shoulder, “Just glad you’re my wife is all.”

“Forever, right?”

“Forever. No matter what happens.”

Nami and Sanji watch you two from the side, giving each other looks that tell more than anything they know you’ll make it. They’ve both watched you ever since they each joined, seen how Zoro treats you and how much you’ve come to love each other. Even when Luffy comes over and drags you away from your real, permanent husband to dance with your captain, the same look Sanji swore to you he’s always seen on Zoro’s face. Soft and loving, he just watches you while you and Luffy giggle together.

When everyone starts to settle down, you’re surprised by Chisa returning to you after being gone since you arrived in Wano. She stops in front of you with two letters, one you know is from Elias and the other from your parents, finally. You’re not sure what to think, even when Zoro wraps his arms around you and sets his chin on your shoulder.

“Well?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug, before tearing up the letter still in the envelope causing Zoro roll tighten his hold on you. For a minute you don’t say anything, before you sigh and lean back against him with a smile.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want care about what they have to say…I only care about you.”

“Hmm,” Zoro kisses tour cheek which makes you giggle before you do the same to him, “That’s my wife, I’m proud of you.”

“Love you, Zoro.”

“Yeah…I love you too.”

You two are going to last forever.

+!+

~10 years later~

You have a newborn baby girl to care for now, literally minutes old as she lays next to you and cries, unhappy about her new surroundings. It’s the middle of winter and the only people you’re allowing around her at the moment are the midwives of Shimotsuki Village that had come to help you deliver your baby in the middle of the day. Every one of them praises you for doing so well, but all you care about is your daughter and Zoro getting to see her, to meet her face to face. He’d been more anxious about it as you got closer to your due date, neither of you knowing if you’d have a boy or girl until the moment you gave birth, and now you have her!

She’s perfectly chubby, her little hands trying to grasp at the air while she wails and kicks her feet at the same time, even as you take hold of one of her hands. You want to laugh seeing her hair is just a slightly darker shade of green than Zoro’s, but smile instead as you calm her down.

“Shh, shh, baby girl, everything’s okay. I’m here, sweetheart. Your daddy’s on his way.”

It’s not even five minutes later you hear Nami yelling outside your door about how someone could miss this, while Sanji starts to swoon at her for being so protective of you but asking her to calm down, stress isn’t good for her or their own baby either. You hear Luffy laugh a bit himself, saying something you can’t understand before Usopp and Robin suggest they all leave you alone, as the door to your room opens and you’re so glad to see who’s finally there.

“Zoro~”

“I’m sorry I missed it, I was asking master something,” Zoro takes your hand you reached for him with, kissing your forehead before he sits beside you, looking at your baby with nothing but pride and love on his face, “We…we have a baby…”

“We have a daughter, Zoro.”

“She’s perfect. Just like her mama.”

Rolling your eyes, you just watch for a few minutes while Zoro takes in the fact you have a daughter to raise now. Honestly, you had been expecting to have a boy, and Zoro never told you what he thought you might have, he said it didn’t matter because it was your child, you made this baby together, he’d love them no matter what. But seeing him gently stroke her hair and let her hold onto his finger, you swear you’re falling in love with him all over again.

“Did you ask your master what we talked about?”

Zoro doesn’t hear you at first, he’s too focused on your daughter and watching her settle down, starting to sleep, before he realizes you spoke to him and asks you to repeat your question. When you do so, he nods, looking back to your daughter.

“Well?”

“He said nothing would make him happier…”

Nodding, you sigh in content when Zoro kisses your forehead again, before doing the same to your daughter.

“Welcome to the world, Kuina.”

You plan to give your daughter everything you never had and more, all the love in the world and no expectations to marry rich unless she decides to. Watching Zoro with her the rest of the day makes you realize this was all you ever wanted.

To love someone and be loved the same, and give that love to your own child forever.

[i-sing-i-still-sing]

THOUGHTS ON YASAMMY

JWCC: Season 5 Ep. 7 - "I've had crushes on boys before so, I know what that's like, but I think I might feel that way about Sammy." - Yasmina Fadoula

JWCC: Season 5 Ep. 9 - "Sammy, I like you, like a lot, like a lot a lot and-..." - Yasmina Fadoula

JWCC: Season 5 Ep. 9 - "The truth is Sammy, I've fallen for you.. like hard.. real hard..." - Yasmina Fadoula

I never officially said this (at least on here before) but I love how initially when Yaz was understanding her feelings for Sammy, they gradually went from a crush to full on fallen for her. Like internally she knew it was always love. When she first figured it out, as to not overwhelm herself, she said it was just a crush but deep down she knew it was more than that, and it didn't take long for her to vocalize that to Sammy.

JWCC: Season 5 Ep. 9 - "I know. I heard you earlier. I just wanted to hear you say it again because I've been wanting to hear you say that since I don't even know when." - Sammy Gutierrez

I think we all agree we wish we could've seen Sammy's pov of everything. Especially since she doesn't even know how long she's felt that way. Maybe it was a love at first sight kinda thing. Or maybe it was after she saw how much Yaz was willing to defend her against Brooklynn about the whole phone thing. Or maybe it was when Yaz didn't think twice about saving Sammy, the first time that happened or even the second time. Who knows not even Sammy does.

And after everything they've been through it all leads up to them getting together. Like canonically ending up as a couple 🥹😭.

But... with that said we do end up missing the entirety of their relationship. The first dates, the first actual spoken "I love yous," and other firsts that happen in a relationship 😉 (😜 kidding this is a kid's show.)

So while we miss all that, another ship that was broken up upon entering jwct, they at least got a flashback and an old video of a happy couple moment. We didn't get any of that for Yasammy. The flashbacks we did get of them, they weren't even together physically. On top of that, a more recently established couple will probably get to say their I love you's on screen. Hell they almost did already! Not to mention the number of kisses they've already gotten! (😒 bombastic side eye to the writers)

But let me review real quick what we've gotten so far in jwct.

In the 1st season it takes 6 episodes to even see Yaz and Sammy in the same frame together. And yes we did get two kisses and yes we got Yaz threatening and distracting an atrociraptor trusting Sammy to tranq it. Not to mention Yaz's "My girl" 😭. But they stopped them from an epic make out with explosions behind them scene 😩.

Onto season 2 where they don't even get into the same boat together. Yes they're all camp fam and that's okay Yasammy doesn't need to be together 24/7 but I personally wanted them in the same boat (call me greedy.) However, we did get Sammy cursing everybody out (in my head) to hurry up and go back to get Yaz. But when they get her and they're about to hug they get interrupted 😞. But then they do hug! But they only hugged 😩 (again call me greedy.) And that's about it for season 2.

Then we have season 3 of just constant fighting. Yes we did get pet names finally but they were used during arguments. And whether those arguments were out of character or not, I will say this though... season 4 jwcc a similar thing happen when Yaz was projecting her feelings onto Sammy & Brooklynn. Sammy even told Yaz that she was mad at her and Brooklynn too saying that "telling us how to feel or what to do isn't helping" which is basically what Yaz was doing with Sammy this season. But do you remember what happened back then? Yaz apologized all but 2 minutes later, letting them know that she only had their best interest at heart. Then do you remember what happened next?? Sammy hugs her and forgives her! They made up immediately. And you all remember what happened next with Yaz's famous words of having feelings because of Sammy 😭.

Anyway... I guess 6 years into a relationship isn't always going to be as easy as it was before but... just saying though they had a similar conflict before and they communicated through it.

Ughsksj I just want more. More Yasammy, more happy Yasammy, more being an actual couple Yasammy. An episode just them away from the camp fam. They had their own room this season but we didn't get to see a parallel scene to that of jwcc season 4. (imagine them talking it out and falling asleep facing each other bc they probably wouldn't let them cuddle in the show 😭)

I just feel like this break up (if they had to absolutely break them up) could've happened in season 1. Keep them together during the time jump as they did, but they could've put the fight at the end of season 1. That way we have all the awkwardness, moping, and yearning in season 2. Then we would've gotten the reconciliation in season 3 which would've left us with 1 if not 2 full seasons of happy, domestic Yasammy. That would've perfectly led to an engagement early season 5 with a time jump wedding scene at the end of it like they did with jwcc.

I LOVE THESE GIRLS SO MUCH

THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME

Well that's it I guess. This is the best I could put my thoughts into words.

Just do right by them @jwctwriters please 🙏🏽

Signed @i-sing-i-still-sing aka yasammy protector

[recurring-polynya]

Sorry if you have been asked this before but I was wondering is there some reason why Kubo never really showed too much regarding Rukia’s feelings towards Renji ? It’s not only her but even Gin & Ichigo with Rangiku & Orihime !! Like he gives enough so people can sense something but he doesn’t give a lot away. Is it about interpretation or he just simply doesn’t want to write romance too deeply ??

Kubo has said quite plainly that he doesn't want to put romance at the forefront. I think he's said this various times in various ways, but here's a pretty definitive quote from an interview he gave at the 2018 San Diego Comicon:

Q: Speaking of Ichigo's relationships with his friends, there seems to be a love triangle between Ichigo, Rukia, and Orihime. Do you delve more into this in later volumes? A. Tite Kubo: (laughs) I get asked about that a lot! I don't want to make Bleach into a love story because there are much more exciting things about their personalities and things that they can do instead of getting into the romance aspect of their relationships.

Kubo's answers are sometimes a little cheeky, but I don't see any reason to read this as anything other than face value. He may have had additional reasons to leave romance out of the story--it's a shounen and he didn't think that stuff would be of interest to the core of his readers, he didn't want to deal with angry ship opinions, etc, etc, but the long and short of it is the guy said "this is not a kissing story" and it's not.

Not to get too nitpicky--this was an interview, there's some degree of translation involved--but I actually find this kind of funny because while I agree that it's not a romance, I would *absolutely* classify Bleach as a love story. Bleach is about 600 love stories. It's about the love between a boy and his precious friends, the love between big brothers and little sisters, about the love between captains and lieutenants, about love that can only be expressed in battle, about love that turns poisonous and corrupts, about love that saves and purifies, about a love for the world you live in and want, with all your heart to make better. And while it's not a romance, I think it is about romantic love as well.

So, even though that's the real reason, I think it is also perfectly in-character for Rukia to act the way she does and I want to yap about it. I can tell right now this is gonna get long, so I am going to put it under a cut.

Just to get it out of the way up-front, I will briefly cover the other characters you mentioned. Both of this could easily merit their own essay, but I want to talk about Rukia, so I'm gonna keep it brief.

My interpretation on Gin and Rangiku is that they were not on romantic terms at any point of the canon timeline. My guess is that when she made it to the Academy and caught up with him again, it very quickly became obvious that he was no longer being genuine with her, and I think she cut him off. He is on a mission for revenge; she doesn't understand why he acts the way he does and distances herself from it. That being said, I (and I think many people?) find their parting scenes to be deeply, tragically romantic. I think this depends on your definition of "romantic." It never would have worked. He ruined it. If he had lived, it would change nothing. But Othello loved Desdemona, too. A story being a tragedy doesn't preclude it being a love story.

Ichigo is a teenage boy with a heart the size of three worlds. I think the amount of emotion he would like to leak out of his body is zero. I think the amount of emotion that does leak out of his body is so high that the signal-to-noise ratio makes it very difficult to discern anything meaningful. My reading of Bleach is that he does have special feelings for Orihime and that they are a slightly different flavor than he has for other people, but it's super hard to tell because he makes the same loving puppy eyes at Chad and Uryuu and Renji and Grimmjow. This guy is constantly torn between loving everyone he knows with the luminosity of a small star and trying to act too cool for school. Also, he's very young. He's still figuring this out, too.

Okay! Let's talk about Rukia!!!

The thing about Rukia is that she is really, really uncomfortable expressing affection. In the flashback scenes where she talks about how much she admired Kaien and Miyako, she's shown standing far away and looking at them from a great distance. When Byakuya compliments her bankai, she squeezes her eyes shut and has to look away.

Ukitake comments at how remarkably "open" he finds her to be with Orihime, even though what they are actually doing is training. You want to see a love confession? Here's Rukia's love confession to Orihime from We Do (Knot) Always Love You (Renji is here, too):

Feeling a little shy and fidgety, Rukia hesitated a few times as she replied to Orihime. "Th-that's because, Inoue I consider you……my……b-best girl-friend! So therefore……I thought…I should tell you first……" She spoke as her last few words became a little mumbled. "……your face is redder than the time I asked you to marry me ya know." "Sh-shut up!!"

A thing I really like about this though, is that while it is portrayed as something that sometimes holds Rukia back in her relationships, it's not portrayed as some sort of fatal flaw. She's a private person, and that's ok. This isn't a quality we often get to see female characters have. If this were a romance story, maybe we'd have to see her overcome this, but it's not! It's an action story and Rukia is a cool and stoic character, which is exactly how she wants to be!

I'm always pounding my shoe on the table over this, but I really, genuinely think that a significant chunk of Renji's character/personality design was specifically to be Rukia's love interest, which I think is based as Hell of him. He's good-looking, he's cool, he's devoted to her, he's powerful along the rules of the worldbuilding, but not in a way that overshadows her. And he meets her where she is.

The scene where Renji carries Rukia down the 8,000 flights of Soukyoku Hill stairs is, in my opinion, the most romantic scene in all of literature. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Rukia is so upset about being rescued, she is cannot stand the fact that anyone cares about her, or worse, that they would risk themselves for her. It's so clear that Renji understands this, and in the gentlest possible terms, asks her to accept his (and Ichigo's) help, as if she has any say in it at this point. He doesn't even make eye contact as he very obliquely says Let us care about you.

This causes Rukia, the most repressed woman in the universe, to hunch in on herself so that he can't see her cry and then he tells her to shut up. I am making little graspy hands at my computer as I write this. This is so good. Imagine. Imagine someone understanding you so well that they would spare you from your own emotions in this way. I am going insane.

This is not a Hallmark Christmas movie. This is a love story for those of us who struggle to connect with others.

I want to kind of hop out and say that I think there's a certain kind of person (me), who gets interested in romances almost exclusively from stories that have little-to-no romantic content. This is not an accident. For me, this is how I like it. I want to read about characters who save the world and I want them to be very business-up-front about it. I mean, yeah, I wouldn't mind if they kissed on screen once, but I don't need it. I have an imagination for that. I have fanfiction for that. I literally want them to do it on their own time. You know what's romantic to me? Meaningful looks. Backing each other up. Fighting in synch. Matching outfits. This is romance to me, and I think Rukia might actually agree with me.

This isn't to say that this is all of Rukia and Renji's relationship. I think they have talked about feelings, I think they've probably held hands and kissed or whatever, but where and when and how it happened is their own business. I think Renji probably wouldn't have minded getting one on-panel smooch, but this feels exactly how I think Rukia would want her relationship portrayed: We looked very cool and then, several years later, we were married.

Oh, and they also very much did get the horniest panels in all of Bleach, which, weirdly enough, I think Rukia would also approve of.

[utilitycaster]

I'll be missing the live wrap-up but i wanted to say it's been disheartening but sadly unsurprising the way a lot of people who started with Campaign 3 talk about Marisha and Laura especially. It feels as though they see them as little more than vessels to provide Laudna and Imogen content. They get outright mad when people ask them questions in the AMA Firesides or 4SD about their jobs in Critical Role as a company, or other characters they've played, or their personal feelings about things they enjoy. A lot of them hate the Cobalt Soul despite Marisha explicitly and repeatedly saying it's incredibly meaningful to her, and are vocal about this, but will attack you if you say you're not a big fan of Laudna. Their approach to Keyleth feels like little more than a convenient opportunity for them to say "you can't ever criticize Marisha! Look at the harassment she received" but they'll then direct this claim towards anyone, even people who watched C1 live and experienced that in real-time and opposed it. They'll engage in harassment themselves and claim it's in defense of Marisha, then turn around and shit talk the Cobalt Soul and yell about how the Ashari are evil Ruidusborn haters and Beauyasha is boring.

And to be clear I have a longstanding and documented history of disliking obnoxiously parasocial behavior or invasive/repetitive/overly generic panel questions. I think, and I mean this genuinely, that it's completely fine and reasonable to be a CR fan who is here for characters only, and isn't interested in the cast. Indeed, I think a lot of early fans of the show were mostly here for the story of Vox Machina, and I respect the people who didn't connect to the Mighty Nein nor have an attachment to the cast and politely stepped away. I am not demanding everyone love every piece of merch nor every creative direction choice lest they disrespect Laura or Marisha; that is not how this works. But there's a difference between "I'm not really interested in anything but Keyleth, so I'm only tuning in to TLOVM chats!" vs this entitled distaste, verging on disgust, among a certain set of C3 fans when Marisha and Laura especially spend even a minute of their out-of-character time talking about anything other than Laudna and Imogen. If you do this, you cede the right to any "they're having fun/it's meaningful or comforting or makes them happy" defense (which, to be clear, I do not think is a valid argument with regards to the quality of a story, but which a lot of these people hypocritically invoke) or "if you dislike this female character or F/F ship you're a bigoted person," especially when you resent the actual real-world women behind your pretend characters for choosing to answer a question about anything other than what you personally care about.

And ultimately, I think that if you are dismissive and resentful towards the bulk of what the cast/company does (this includes when you turn this resentment towards fans for daring to ask questions about anything else, even in places that aren't at all C3-specific like panels or cast fireside AMAs, or places where the crew or the cast themselves are the ones actually choosing which questions are answered), it is childish and embarrassing to then act like you are being wronged and your opinions cruelly disregarded simply because something of which you only like one small facet fails to cater to you. You don't have to like it; but you showed up to part 3 of a trilogy and got mad that the creators sometimes talk about parts 1 and 2.