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taevbears · 1 year ago

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To Be Loved - 01

Here's where she meets prince charming.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 5.2k ⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

It was a dark and stormy night.

Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.

One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.

You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.

To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.

If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.

But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.

One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”

The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.

Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.

The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.

No one does.

Except for one.

Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.

“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”

The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.

The difference between the two is telling.

Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.

His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.

He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.

There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.

Rap Monster.

That’s what they call him.

And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.

In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.

And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.

Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.

And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.

Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you?

That’s a question even you often wonder.

Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.

People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.

“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.

He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”

“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”

Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way.

It’s something you learn the hard way.

“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.

More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.

In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?

You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.

You can’t take it.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”

A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”

You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.

You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over.

With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.

“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.

What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.

Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles.

Hybrids.

Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.

In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.

“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”

“Kangdae!”

“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.

“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”

One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.

You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.

Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.

He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.

People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.

Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.

And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?

Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.

One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.

Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.

This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.

You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.

A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening.

Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.

Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.

Had it not been for what he does next.

Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.

“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.

Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.

It doesn’t look human.

A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”

“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”

Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”

The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.

But you have to help.

“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.”

He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.

In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo.

“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.

Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.

It’s been years since that night.

Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.

However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.

But you haven’t seen him since.

You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.

To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.

Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.

The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.

And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.

The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town. To run away from it all and never go back.

But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.

In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.

A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.

It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.

Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.

Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.

How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved?

You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to.

That much you know.

Your plans are foiled by a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.

Do you want to say yes?

Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?

“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.

Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.

Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.

You have to say something. You have to decide.

You have to tell him no.

“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”

“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.

But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.

You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.

You’re engaged now.

And it makes you want to throw up.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”

“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”

He scoffs. “What are you saying?”

It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.

Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.

You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.

“Kangdae, do you even love me?”

Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”

“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”

“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?

“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

He storms out.

And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.

That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.

It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.

No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.

He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.

“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”

“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?

“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”

“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?

“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”

“Stop. You’re disgusting.”

How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?

Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human.

“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.

You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.

Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?

No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.

You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.

“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.

The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.

Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.

“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.

When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.

“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”

This time, he nods his head more eagerly.

Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.

The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”

It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?

You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.

“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.

Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.

The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.

“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively.

He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.

“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.

“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”

The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.

“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”

The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”

This time, your eyes widen. “What?”

“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist | Next

#to be loved #namjoon x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid x reader #hybrid namjoon #hybrid bts

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penny00dreadful · 6 months ago

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Through The Valley - Post-Apocalypse AU - Part 1

AO3

Eddie rapped his knuckle against the metal three times.

“I don’t sell from the van, Harrington.”

He was parked in a dark corner of the cul-de-sac, blocking out any streetlight. The only reason he’d been able to recognise the artful swoop of hair was due to the residual glow from Tina’s Halloween Bash that had completely cleaned out his stock. It was going to comfortably pay his and Wayne’s electricity bill for the winter months ahead.

With maybe a little left over for a couple of new tapes if he was lucky.

If it had been anyone else he’d probably have been more careful in his approach but Steve never got physical in school. Even if he chose tonight to start throwing drunken punches, Eddie was pretty sure he’d be able to fend him off.

He wasn’t as strong as Steve but he was stone cold sober and knew how to take care of himself.

Eddie didn’t even really have to try to be mean and scary half the time, his look did it enough for him.

Steve had been leaning up against the side of the van with his head in his hands but Eddie’s approach must have been muffled by the thumping music coming from the house because the way he startled at the sound of Eddie’s knocking was borderline panicked.

A little over the top, to be honest.

Like he expected some monster to appear out of the shadows.

Steve glanced at him but just as quickly turned his back, swiping furiously at his face and Eddie got the distinct impression he’d interrupted something private. It immediately put him on edge.

These traditional masculinity jock types always got very defensive if they were caught being vulnerable. Like a single shred of emotion would shrink their dick.

“I’m not here to buy, I’m-” Steve sniffled again, wiping his nose harshly on his sleeve. “Sorry, I just needed a minute, I’m leaving.” His voice was thick from crying and he in no way tried to hide it.

Eddie frowned.

He didn’t really know what to do with that reaction, it wasn’t what he was expecting at all. But he figured if Steve could be gracious enough not to snap and spit at him, Eddie could be gracious enough not to make things worse.

“Don’t worry about it, man. If you need a minute, take a minute.”

Steve shook his head. “No, it’s fine-” he was cut off as he tried to step away but had clearly misjudged where the curb was in the darkness, tripping over it and landing hard on his back in the bushes.

He leaned forward, trying to pull himself back up but went completely slack again a second later.

“Well that’s just fucking typical.” Steve muttered.

Eddie tried hard to keep any hint of a smirk or smile off his face as he moved to hover over him, still trying to keep the mood light.

“You good?”

Steve flapped a loose hand in his direction. “I’m fine. Just leave me here to die.”

Eddie did smile at that and held a ringed hand out to him. “Dramatics are usually my job.”

Steve clapped his hand into Eddie’s and allowed himself to be hauled up to a sitting position.

Eddie considered for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him and he threw himself down onto the concrete.

The coldness of the curb immediately bit through his jeans. There’d probably be a freeze tonight. He could see their breath fog up in between them and the van they were now shadowed behind as he tapped out two cigarettes from his pack and offered one over.

Steve looked surprised for a moment, or Eddie guessed he looked surprised. They were both still drenched in mostly darkness, so Eddie couldn’t see much of his face.

Steve took the cigarette with a soft, “Thanks.”

Lighting up he took a deep inhale before rubbing at his eyes again with the heel of his hand, though it seemed to be more out of tiredness than continued tears.

He sniffed again and let out a heavy sigh.

“Are you going to ask about it?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” Eddie shrugged. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. No. I don’t know-” Steve’s words died in his throat when he looked up, eyes sliding from Eddie’s face and landing over his shoulder.

Eddie twisted around and caught sight of Jonathan helping a stumbling Nancy out of the house with nervous hands and a worried brow.

“I’m guessing it has something to do with that?” He asked, turning back.

Steve tracked the two of them with his eyes before looking back down at the ground and saying quietly, “Yeah, something like that.”

“You’re not worried about someone else taking your very intoxicated girlfriend home?”

Steve shook his head inhaling another large drag from his cigarette. “No, not with Byers. She’s safe with him, she-” he sighed. “Don’t think she’s my girlfriend anymore anyway.”

Well it didn't take much more than that to paint a picture in Eddie's head of what had happened.

The whole town had known about the fight between Jonathan and Steve last year following the spray painting and subsequent clean up of The Hawk in which Nancy had very much not sided with Steve on it, though who could blame her.

People had expected him to drop her like a lead balloon after that but he hadn’t. He’d shocked everyone by starting up with her again, but now it looked like those issues had never really been resolved.

Eddie watched Steve’s silhouette carefully, ready for the moment he’d just up and start punching whatever was in reach like a good little testosterone driven toddler, but he just looked… defeated.

“You’re… handling it remarkably well.” He hedged, apprehensive.

“For now.” Steve tilted his head back to look up at the stars, his breath curling out white and foggy in the cold. “It’ll probably hit me tomorrow.”

Eddie wanted to reach a hand out, grip at his shoulder, offer a comforting touch but boys didn’t touch. And if they did, they only did it after reaching a certain level of friendship, which they were not at.

So he kept his hands to himself.

“Well I’d offer you something to take the edge off, but I’m afraid I’m all out.”

Steve shook his head. “No, you’re okay. Distraction and a cigarette is good enough for me. Plus you can’t just go around offering charity to anyone who crosses your path, people will try to take advantage.”

“You think I’d let people take advantage of me?” Eddie said with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

Steve snored. “No, I suppose not. You’ve got your whole,” he waved his hand in Eddie’s direction, “bad boy rough and tough… look.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows and laughed around his cigarette. “Hey, don't disparage the look, Harrington. It works.”

“M not disparaging, it’s a good look.”

“Oh, really? Didn’t think it’d be your type of thing.”

Steve glanced over at him, his eyes mischievous and ever so slightly hooded. “You’ve no idea what my type of thing is, Munson.”

Wait.

Was that a line?

Was Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington flirting with him? Him?

Maybe Steve had too much to drink.

He was obviously heartbroken by whatever was going on with Nancy so maybe it was just some kind of catharsis or a joke or-

A shrill ring cut through the air, sharp and splitting.

Eddie snapped his head up.

Steve didn’t react.

There was a rotary phone hanging off the side of his van, teal with a twisted cord.

And it was ringing.

Loudly.

It was like a spell had been broken, the shrill screaming of ringringring filled Eddie with a wild panic, a wild fear, shooting through his head and setting his blood alight.

He turned his wide eyes back to Steve who was now looking up at the phone with loose shoulders and a calm face.

The darkness didn’t matter anymore, he knew with exact, intimate detail what look Steve had right now.

He’d been back here often enough after all.

“Stevie, don’t answer it.” Eddie’s panic was edging into desperation.

His time was running out.

There was an overwhelming sense of loss inside him, mixed up with devastation, heartbreak and sadness.

He was slipping.

He was slipping away.

Again.

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” Eddie shook his head frantically, grasping Steve by the shoulders. “You don’t have to.”

He swung his leg over, sitting himself firmly in Steve’s lap and placed a hand at either side of his face, practically begging him. “Just a little longer. Please, baby, please.”

It was like he was imploring Steve to look inside at his beating, bloody heart, pleading with him to let them both stay. His tone was frantic and he could feel his soul cracking to pieces, clinging on as if he could keep Steve here just with his grip alone.

“It’s about Max.” Steve stated, matter of fact.

Eddie leaned forward and placed kiss after kiss in quick succession against Steve’s face. “You don’t have to answer it yet.” He said, a thick sob crawling its way up his throat, trying to change the inevitable.

His vision was starting to blur with tears and the lump in his throat felt like he’d swallowed a fucking golf ball. “Not yet. You can- you can answer it later. Please. Stevie. Baby. Sweetheart. We could-” He threw his arms around Steve’s shoulders, holding him as tight and close as he possibly could, as though his grip could keep them both here.

His tears were finally slipping free and his heartbreak cresting into complete and utter anguish. “We could go hang out with Robin or… or…”

“I haven’t met Robin yet, Eds. You know that.” Steve’s hand came up to softly cradle the back of his head as Eddie’s tears clung to Steve’s neck where they fell and he wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. “I have to answer it.”

The next sob that came felt like it had torn his whole body in half, shaking him to his core, ripping him in two.

“Just a few more minutes.” He begged. “Please. Please don’t go.” He whispered, tremulous and defeated as the soft click of the receiver being picked up sounded around him and he awoke with a start.

Eddie took a few moments to collect himself, swiping furiously at his eyes with his bedsheets, hating himself for crying and trying to will the lump in his throat away.

His heart was aching and he knew despite his best efforts he’d be carrying it around with him for the rest of the day.

He didn’t have nightmares like Dustin or Nancy did. He didn’t scream or thrash or claw, no.

He had these dreams.

He wept in his sleep, crying until he was dried out and exhausted upon waking up but he wouldn’t trade them in for anything.

At least with these dreams he could still…

Nevermind.

It wasn’t important.

He had too much shit to deal with today to spend time mourning the past.

The past was dead and there was nothing he could do about it now.

He just had to keep moving forward.

For Wayne, for Dustin, for Mike and El and Will, for the Sinclair parents and the Buckley parents and Ms. Mayfield.

He tried to focus on the issues of the day.

Their food surplus was getting dangerously low and there hadn’t been a supply drop from the military in weeks, though their own vegetable crop was still growing strong.

Chester Hagen and his goons were still giving Nancy trouble.

They needed extra hands to get their fence back up again and those bandits were still out there.

They might have been scared away by Dustin and Scott’s genius and deadly electrical wiring but they weren’t going to stay away for long.

Their settlement was way too valuable an asset to have under their belts from a defensive standpoint alone and if Chester Hagen or the fucking bandits were able to seize control it could be catastrophic.

And that’s not even mentioning the fucking Ghouls.

Their bright red eyes were always the first thing visible through the darkness of the forest, followed closely by the smell of decay.

They kept to the shadows, unnervingly quiet considering they were the shambling corpses of those caught in the crossfire of the rifts opening up.

They were able to sneak up on even the most alert of people, getting close enough to strike, cutting a gnarled claw into their victims skin and paralysing them, ready to be feasted upon silently and unable to scream.

If someone was unlucky enough to die from a bite, rather than claws ripping their flesh from their bones and bleeding out, they’d come back a few hours later, dead and mindless, driven by the need to consume.

It was so incredibly fucked up.

Nearly everyone had had a run in with someone they had known once in life.

Hawkins had been a very small town after all and the Ghouls were drawn to their walls, the noise their small community made within their safe refuge amongst the trees like a shining noise beacon.

The creatures were easy to pick off though, high up in the communities man made sentry towers Eddie had suggested way back when, but the community could never get too complacent.

The Ghouls were still a very real threat.

The two bodies that had to be brought home and buried after the last trip to maintain the water tower made that clear enough.

Two more plots in their makeshift graveyard at the edge of what was once a golf course.

Fuck, they needed food. At least something more than the rationed out vegetables they were able to grow, something similar to the comforts they knew before everything went to shit.

Some sugar, some salt, even a bit of fucking meat.

They hadn’t been hunting too much lately, it was getting more and more dangerous to leave the walls.

Everyone was running on fumes and it was making them sloppy.

Their sentries were having trouble concentrating, their medical personnel had started to feel they couldn’t perform their duties safely anymore, their smartest minds were waning.

Eddie dragged himself out of bed.

No time to huddle in for warmth and wish for a different day than the one he was facing down, too many people were waiting on him, relying on him.

He did allow himself to drift a hand over the pillow he kept on the other side, though.

His side, though it had always been empty, ever since they first arrived at this estate, ever since Eddie first slept in the bed, nine months ago.

Fourteen months since the end.

Fourteen months since...

No.

Stop thinking about it.

Too much to do today.

He shook his head again, stripping down bare and stopping in front of the mirror.

He was leaner than he had been before all this began.

Fourteen months of surviving an apocalypse would do that to a person.

His hair was longer and still just as messy as ever. His skin was blocked out with more self-inflicted tattoos. Mostly the result of sleepless nights and downtime by candlelight when the memories sometimes got to be too much and he just had to get them out, get them onto skin, carry them on the outside rather than leave them to fester on the inside.

There was an illustration of Smaug from the books, done to the best of his memory on his right knee. Shitty interpretations of his guitar, a slice of pizza, a walkie talkie, trucker hats, mugs, guitar picks and music notes littered his arms. The old hellfire logo and the Corroded Coffin logo inked into his chest where his demon head and black widow had once been, now in the stomach of some long dead demobat somewhere.

Those had hurt like a bitch.

Almost as bad as the two quotes on the inside of his thighs.

I had not intended to love him on the inside of his left.

He made me love him without looking at me on the inside of his right.

Eddie scratched at his jaw in the mirror. He needed a shave but that could wait, he couldn’t be fucked dragging a razor over his face right now.

The shower was icy cold. He barely remembered what bathing in warm water felt like anymore. Positives and negatives to having a steady water supply from the reservoir on top of the hill, but no electricity.

At least they were all able to keep clean.

He barely bothered to dry off, dumping his towel in the laundry hamper he’d probably forget to bring down to their approximation of a laundrette, again.

He snatched up some clothes from his dresser, dark and sturdy, just how he liked them.

Dark jeans, dark top, high quality boots that he found in the abandoned house he and Wayne were now living in and though the July sun had been vicious and unrelenting, he needed the comfort of the familiar.

The only things of his own that had survived were what he had on him when they’d run. His necklace, his bracelet, his wallet chain, even though he hadn’t had need of a wallet for over a year, wasn’t even sure where in the world it was. But he added them too, feeling more like himself with every piece he put on.

He snatched up the rifle he kept loaded and tucked between the bed frame and the wall every night, slinging the strap over his shoulder and was about to head out of his bedroom when he paused, gripping the door handle tight.

He hated giving into the urge but if this was the day he died, he knew he’d regret not doing it.

With a put upon sigh, he let go of the door handle and turned back into his room, opening his closet door and looking at the only item of clothing hanging in there.

Reaching out, he brushed his fingers over the back shoulders, feeling the raised lettering of the name across his fingertips and ran a hand down the sleeve, gripping the cuff.

Before he could stare at green and white for too long and allow the sorrow to wash over him again, he let go and shut the closet door.

The house he and Wayne had managed to lay claim to was one of the smaller ones but that didn’t bother them.

Hell, it was practically Eddie’s own now that Wayne was spending most nights with Scott.

In any case the house was close to exactly who he wanted to be close to.

The Hoppers-Byers clan lived directly behind him, the fence blocking their gardens from each other long broken down by El. Dustin and his mother lived to one side of him, Nancy and her family on the other. Across the road lived the Sinclair parents, Susan Mayfeild and the Buckley parents, along with the various friends and family members of those that hadn’t been seen since before everything went to shit, trying to find comfort in their numbers.

They’d tried to convince Dustin, Mike, Will and El to join them in their support group but those kids weren’t the types to sit around and talk about their feelings.

They were the types to throw themselves into some new experiment or dig their way through The Void trying to find a new way forward.

But no such luck so far.

Eddie had stopped asking.

He trudged his way through the streets of what was once a very affluent gated community but had now become their own little post apocalypse village.

How quaint, he thought, sardonically.

He headed towards what was a rec centre once upon a time but had since been repurposed as their collective dining hall.

During the good times when food stockpiles were high people could come and go as they pleased, getting fed whenever the desire took them, maybe even being able to make a request of what they wanted to eat.

But in times like these, when the variety of food was dangerously low, mealtimes were strictly regimented to make sure everyone got an equal share.

As he waited in line, his stomach growling with the smell wafting from the kitchens, the people around him sent him warm smiles and friendly greetings, some even trying to engage him in small talk.

Crazy how an actual apocalypse can change attitudes.

“What’s on the menu today, Joyce?” Eddie asked when he got to the front of the line.

His smile didn’t feel as strained as it had been before. Joyce always managed to bring some light out in him.

“Only the finest potato stew for one of our fearless leaders.” She replied with a sneaky smile, pushing a bowl of watered down lumpy stew towards him.

Eddie glared at her but without much substance behind it, picking up his bowl. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

Joyce awed playfully, reaching over to pinch his unscarred cheek. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t pull such an adorable face whenever I do.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned away, calling back over his shoulder, “Bye Joyce.”

“Bye sweetie!”

He sat himself down at an empty table as far away from everyone else as he could, hoping to just be able to eat his meal in peace before the demands of everyone and everything started to surround him.

He only got about two bites in before a sour faced figure sat himself down across from him.

Eddie didn’t even bother to look up.

“I’m not in the mood, Hagen.”

Chester Hagen was a man who looked like he might have been attractive in his youth if he didn’t constantly have a sulk on his face and a sickening air of superiority around him.

“Just hear me out, Munson. I know you feel like you owe the Wheeler girl your loyalty-”

Eddie snapped his eyes up. “I don’t owe Nancy anything. She has my loyalty because she’s earned it. Something I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with.”

“Don’t you think this place could use some actual leadership? Not just some little girl playing politics.”

Eddie sighed heavily and continued to shovel his food into his mouth, trying to have this conversation finished as fast as he could. “And you think that’s you, do you? Might I remind you that everyone here,” he waved his hand around, “including you and your luddites elected her as leader, because she was one of the few who knew how to actually handle everything.”

“That was then. Now we’re starving. The military doesn’t respect her, why else wouldn’t we be getting our drops on time? The people are upset and they’re starting to talk. And need I remind you I was an acting town official for years. I ran for Mayor-”

Eddie lifted the bowl to his mouth, slurping down the last of his food. “And you lost.” He winced in mock sympathy, standing up. “To Larry Kline of all people. Ouch.”

He left to hand his bowl back over to be cleaned, praying that he wouldn’t be followed but that was apparently too much to hope for. He’d barely made it outside before he heard the heavy footsteps following him.

Eddie darted around the corner of the building, striding down the small gap between the dining hall and their makeshift medical centre, only stopping once he was sure Hagen had followed him in.

“Munson, if she has something over you that makes you think you can’t switch to the better team then you’ve got to know we can help you out. No matter what it is. You have a lot of respect in this community, we could use that. And you wouldn’t be stuck acting as some little girls guard dog-”

Eddie swung around, pressing the barrel of his rifle into Chester Hagan’s neck, backing him into the wall. Hagen immediately threw his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide with fear, looking like he was about to piss himself.

“What if I like being a little girl's guard dog, what then?”

Eddie and Nancy didn’t exactly see eye to eye. She still held onto some middle class, small town politeness and nothing Eddie said, trying to get her to accept the brutality of the world they were living in now would dissuade her.

But she was an effective leader. And she was one of the people who had kept him alive during the spring break from hell.

There was no way he was going to sell her out to Chester fucking Hagan.

Hagen swallowed, shifting the muzzle ever so slightly around his throat. “S- so is it a sex thing? Because I’m sure we could find-”

“For the sake of your own head I’m encouraging you to stop talking now.”

“Right, right. Yeah. I’m… I’ll stop talking.”

“Good. Now listen to me very carefully. Under no circumstances whatsoever will I be persuaded, coerced, bought or bullied away from Nancy’s side. This town voted her their leader and unless the majority no longer wants her overlooking things, it’s going to stay that way.” He pushed the barrel of the gun in harder, right under his jaw. “But if I ever get approached by you or one of your goons trying to get me to switch sides or go behind Nancy’s back for information again, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your eye. We both know I’ll do it and I won't lose a wink of sleep over it."

"Th- pe- people won't like that."

"Oh, won't they? Tell me, who do you think the people will side with between the two of us? It's why you keep trying to get me to join your side. Because you know you don't have shit without my support. Like you said, I have a lot of respect in this community.”

“B- but you two fight, you fight all the time! We can hear it clear across the estate! We can-” Eddie dug the gun in just a little deeper. “Do not approach me again. Do I make myself clear?”

Hagen nodded, short and sharp and scared. “Crystal clear, Munson. Sir.”

“Good.” Eddie pulled the gun away from his neck and slung it back over his shoulder, walking down the rest of the alleyway before calling back, “Clean up, it smells like you shit yourself.”

“Can a girl get pregnant if she’s on top?”

Eddie dropped the metal sheet they were using to repair the hole in the fence, just barely managing to avoid crushing his toe. The noise clanged around them like a dinner bell. He and Dustin were outside the protective walls of the community for this particular repair and they both froze, tensing up and waiting to hear if the sound had attracted any Ghouls or roving bandits towards them. They were barely in danger, there were sentries posted on high platforms around the whole perimeter but it was still something they wanted to avoid if they could.

Speaking of, they could hear someone climbing the platform from the inside before Jonathan poked his head over the eight foot wall, looking down on the two of them.

“Everything okay?”

Eddie took one last glance at the dense woods around them and let his shoulders drop, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket and looking back up.

“Yeah, sorry about that Jon. The kid just jumpscared me is all.”

“I literally just asked a question.” Dustin frowned at him.

“A sex question.” Eddie pointed out.

“I think I’ll take my leave, have fun with that!” Jonathan disappeared back behind the walls before Eddie could even glare at him.

“Why are you even asking me? And who are you planning on sexing up? You’re too young anyway. You’re a foetus.”

“I’m sixteen. And seriously? I thought you’d be more… open minded about this.” Dustin pouted. “Plus who else am I gonna ask? Hopper, Jonathan? I can’t go to the library, they don’t exist anymore and I can’t ask-” Dustin swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check and failing. “Steve’s not here.” He whispered.

Eddie’s heart gave a painful thud, like it always did whenever Steve was mentioned. Whenever Eddie thought of him, really.

It usually led to him trying not to think of him, which made him feel guilty, like he was trying to forget. Which then made him sadder and angrier and more hopeless all at the same time. Because ‘forgetting’ implied Eddie would never see him again. It implied that Steve was… gone.

And he just couldn’t accept that.

But trying to avoid thoughts of Steve often left Dustin in the lurch. He knew it did.

Who else could the kid talk to about this? Not Jonathan or Hopper or Joyce or Wayne or Claudia. None of them knew Steve like Dustin did. Not even Nancy had known him very well by the end.

Will and El had been the two kids who’d interacted with Steve the least when they were all together. Before. And Mike had too much ‘ex-boyfriend to his sister’ attitude about him to really talk to Steve back then, always assuming there’d be more time.

Maybe he could talk to Richard and Melissa Buckley. They were the parental connection Steve never had, Eddie knew that. Steve had told him that himself.

But there was too much of an age gap.

And the rest of their Upside-Down crew were in the same boat Steve was.

Not here.

They hadn’t been seen or heard from in over fourteen months.

Robin, Max, Lucas, Erica…

Missing.

Not gone.

Never gone.

Just… missing.

Dustin shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, can we just talk about the sex like scientists? Not make it weird with squiggly feelings?”

Eddie smirked, but nodded, happy to avoid the subject of Steve for a little longer.

“Sure thing, kiddo. To answer your question, yes. A girl can get pregnant from literally every penis in vagina position. And she can get pregnant if she’s on her period. And if it’s her first time.”

Dustin huffed, throwing his arms out at his sides. “Then how is anyone supposed to have sex without getting someone pregnant in the apocalypse?”

Eddie snorted, picking back up his metal sheet. “Why do you think there's been so many babies born here since it started?”

“Unsafe practices?”

Eddie snapped his fingers and pointed at Dustin. “Unsafe practices.”

“Well…” Eddie could hear Dustin drumming his fingers against his baseball bat, apparently contemplating something. He took a big breath in. “What have you been doing?”

Eddie nearly dropped the sheet again. “Me?”

“Yeah? How have you been having sex without getting anyone pregnant?”

Eddie blew out a breath, busying himself with finally securing the sheet. He’d probably end up nearly dropping it again if he didn’t. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been.”

“Having sex?” Dustin asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Eddie closed his eyes, bracing for all the usual questions. “I haven’t been having sex.”

“Why? Are you celibate? Are you waiting till marriage or something?”

“No…” He shook his head. “I just…”

“You do like girls, right?”

Dustin’s tone wasn’t accusatory or derogatory, just curious.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “You go around asking people dangerous questions like that often, Henderson?”

“No. I’m not an idiot. Didn’t feel like a dangerous question to ask you. You don’t feel dangerous.” Dustin scowled. “Are you?”

Eddie allowed the corner of his mouth to tick up. “No, kid. I’m not dangerous. And to answer your question…” he shrugged. “Yeah. I like girls just fine.”

Dustin watched him closely, eyes darting between Eddie’s own. “But you don't prefer them?”

Eddie nodded. “Correct.”

Dustin nodded as well. “Okay. So you're like Will?”

“Not exactly. I like people… but I tend to lean towards the more… masculine side of things.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, animals do it all the time right? Why would it be different for people? People are just animals with bigger brains and a higher endurance.”

“Debatable.”

“Scientific fact.”

Eddie sighed. “Suppose you’re right.”

“So… do you just not feel safe trying to find someone in an apocalypse or is there someone…?”

“From before?”

Dustin swallowed. Talking about pre-apocalyptic relationships was always heavy. Especially if they… weren’t here.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “From before.”

“Yeah. I had someone. Have someone.” Eddie couldn’t look at him, continuing to work on the fence, unable to stomach the pitying looks he’d seen people get, people who still had hope they’d be reunited with their loved ones even after all this time.

People like the Sinclair parents, the Buckley parents and Ms. Mayfield.

No one knew he was also one of those people.

And if he got his way, no one would ever know.

He didn’t need the fucking pity.

He didn’t think he could bear it if Dustin muttered out the dreaded, “I’m sorry.”

But as always, the kid was full of surprises. “What’s his name?” It felt very deliberate, to ask what’s his name and not what was his name. Present tense. Intentional.

Eddie smirked to himself. A small little private thing, just for him.

“Ken.”

There was the sound of shuffling as Dustin hummed. “I don’t think I know a Ken.”

“No.” Eddie replied. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

AO3

So…

Hello!

I am back! I am officially bring my break to an end and that is a terrifying concept but I'm gonna do it anyway! Updates on this fic will be a little more sporadic than my previous ones as I get back into the swing of things but I am so happy to be back and I hope you enjoy this story! 🥰

Fic title and lyrics from Through The Valley by Shawn James but it was this version by Ashley Johnson as Ellie that truly captured me.

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

@geekymagicalpotato

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #pennys anniversary event #through the valley #post apocalypse au #dustin henderson

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thebigbadbatswife · 1 year ago

Text

To Bring You Comfort

Pairing - Geralt of Rivia x F!Reader

Summary - It’s that time of the month and Geralt takes care of you.

Warnings - Fluff, Periods, Soft!Geralt, Implied Sexual Content

A/N - Something short and fluffy cause I had the week from hell and writing this actually made me feel a little better.

Word Count - 600

Geralt rapped his knuckles against the door of your shared room before pushing it open. He shut the door behind him and made his usually silent footsteps audible, as he crossed the room, so you could hear him approaching the bed where you were curled up, beneath a blanket.

It was that time of the month again. Where you were exhausted and pain and would likely be in this bed for the next couple of days, while you got through the worst of it. He was thankful that the two of you had managed to reach this town beforehand. There were many monsters that could easily pick up on your scent and right now you weren’t in any condition to defend yourself. Here you were safe and that was the most important thing to him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. One of his hands came to rest on your thigh and he squeezed gently.

You groaned. “I hate feeling like shit,” you muttered as you sat up. The blanket covering you fell and pooled into your lap revealing that you weren’t currently wearing a shirt. For the past couple of days your breasts had been rather swollen and sore, even his shirts, which fit you like dresses, had been irritating you. So you had opted for staying topless whilst inside the room. Which he certainly wasn’t complaining about. Geralt might not be able to touch them right now, but he could still admire your breasts.

“I brought you something,” he told you, taking a vial out of his ouch and giving it to you. You frowned as you looked it over before looking at him, an eyebrow raised. “The local herbalist said that it will help with the pain,” he explained.

“And they say that Witchers don’t care,” you teased, leaning in close so that he could give you a quick kiss. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards slightly as you pulled away.

When you uncorked the vial, both of you grimaced at the smell. He imagined that it wasn’t going to taste much better and, by your reaction as you downed it as quickly as possible, he was right. At least it would help with the pain.

“Ugh, that was awful,” you muttered, setting the vial aside and reaching for the cup of water on the nightstand to wash away the taste.

“I know, but it’ll help, love.” Geralt cupped your jaw and kissed you again. If you weren’t so sensitive down there right now, he would have offered to take away your pain in a way that had proven very popular in the past.

“Want to know what else will help?” you asked him.

He hummed softly and shook his head. “What?”

“Kissing and cuddles.”

He smiled fully this time. Of course that’s what you wanted, he should have guessed. He was more than happy to give you what you wanted. He got up from the bed and began to remove his armour and equipment, setting his swords to lean against the table. Then he was crawling into the bed and, carefully, pulled you close to him, making sure you were comfortable. You settled your head against his chest, where you could hear the slow and steady beating of his heart.

You were quick to drift off after that, a mixture of comfort from him and the potion. Which was good. He hated the thought of you in pain. Especially when there wasn’t much that he could really do about it. Hopefully the morning would be better.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x fem!reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher 3 #my writing

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alfiely-art · 6 months ago

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FINISHED ACT 2!!!! I promise I'm taking my time

Act 1 live reaction here

Here are notes I took while reading!!!

Hi vagabond fella… you're cute

Huh. So the world ended. Okay

Happy birthday john, you fucked up!!!! My god!!!!

Oh interesting… wonder if the kernel will come back later

I like this sprite lmaoooo silly guy

“It's a long way down” Hey. Hey wait a sec. Isn't that deltarune

HEY THE BUNNY WHERE DID IT GO

Bro Rose probably thinks you're dead lmfaooooo

House trapped. LIKE THE TITLE HOMESTUCK DO U GET IT

Am I supposed to ignore the Stop Scurrying button btw. He will scurry to my hearts content

HEY WHERES DAD.

“Would you like to play a game?” C…caliborn….? :3

We scurried until we couldn't scurry anymore

Aw he's scared :( WALK ACROSS IT ur fine…

A voice?? Is it the blue text. The sprite

OMG ITS THE VAGABOND!!!!

Sorry rose I'm not reading allat

So wait. Did the game cause the meteors or is it just saving people from them. Why was there no warning

Betty crocker is born /j

Nvm sprite said No <3

NOT NANNAS ASHESSSSS LMAOOOO

“Hoo-hoo-hoo” HEY I SAW CALIBORN GIGGLE LIKE THAT IN A FIC. I know the Striders have more to do with Caliborn but let me reach

OH its the sprite

Dave. Honey. Nows not the time for your rap

Which admittedly has fun rhymes

AW FLUCK IT

Dave what are you yapping about

THE FUCKIHG CAR OH MY GOD

DAVE OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU STILL GOING

Fluthlu… I love you

I'm not even gonna try to spell that but I like the other squid octopus creature as well

Oglogoth… goth !!!!

Hey wait. The horror terrors are part of sburb. Is the game influenced by their lives and interests. Like. Deltarune

OH PSYCHE!!! hi Dave

Sword!!!!!!

Wow your room is really mHEY I KNOW THOSE GUYS. THATS THE FELT GUYS. SQUAREWAVE AND RHE OTHER ROBOT. I KNOW THOSE ONES!!!!! OHHHHHH

Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable

Oh Dave. Oh Dave

Hey wait is this earlier in the day.

Okay this is definitely earlier in the day

Aw. He doesn't wanna make satire of the sburb review

FUCK IM FALLING DOWN ALL THESE STAIRS……

Is that. John's hand???? what the fuck is happening in midnight crew

Flagrant Homosexuality

YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT WHITE BABY (I was told that they use slurs, slur count 2!!!!)

Her life depends on you playing that game Dave

Ewwww what's the shit under the door

It's okay Dave piss probably isn't that bad. It's also probably Apple juice You're fine

HE GOT PISS/JUICE ON HIS TURNTABLES NOOOOOO

. They're gonna fly out the window

OH MY GOD BIRD NO

Wait. Davesprite is a bird with a sword in him. Omg is that bird the beginning of Davesprite omg!!!!

Wizard

Rose and her mom are fucking weird

MOM!!!!!

Hardcore parkour

Jade be telling the future…. Why can she do that

LIL CAL MENTION

NARRATOR YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT (slur count: 3)

Ironic Indulgence

Btw. Are you able to. Win the strifes. I'm so confused

“Fine, you'll interrupt your reading and turn around, but you don't see what could possibly be so oh my god it's a monster.” Hi this is absolute gold this is how I type

John died :(

Yay he's alive!!!

YOOOOO SICKKKK AFFFFF MOVE

John is such a nerd I love him

JASPERS NOOO

Hi Nanna harlequin sprite

Dave is very suddenly creeped out by the puppets, okay. Don't diss Lil cal bro

Baked good hater for Life!!! Also I am just like John I have absolutely no idea what Nannasprite was talking about. We r along for the ride

HUMAN ETIQUETTE WOOOO I NEED THAY BOOK

Jade why do you know all this stuff

Haha Dave's an emoji

IS THAT A DRIPPED OUT SLAPPY

HI CAL HI BABYGIRL !!!! I like Cal he's the man

Sweet Bro n Hella Jeff is. I

Cals eyes are so shiny

HAHAHAHAH JOHN MADE A SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF REFERENCE. I can't

U and me both Rose. We Are giggling

John died again

What the fuck is happening at Dave's house

ROSE RAP ROSE RAP

WHSJSHSJSH THE LITTLE IMP????

What the fuck is happening

I WANT TO PLAY A GAME is this a caliborn reference. Anyway uhhh Bro is kinda weird what's going on with him

Why does he have a camera in the saw guy figurine. Bro. What's uh up with you

BRO REALLY IS A NINJA…. Whys he jusy moving Cal around

Dave. I know you said your Bro is awesome but I think he's just really weird. He's silly

I do think it's interesting. John doesn't like his dad even though his dad is great (worst thing is he ignores that his kid doesn't like betty crocker goods). Rose hates her mom, but.. for like, the wrong reasons?? Like yeah her mom’s an alcoholic and seems neglectful but she doesn't seem to do the Irony shit Rose says she does. And then Dave seems to think Bro is the absolute best even though. This is not a great situation. I wonder what Jade's family is like

Also John and Rose avoid their parents but Dave's Bro seems to avoid Dave. interesting

Anyway POOR DAVE HE GOT SMOOSHED

Hey that letter is the same as the one in the trans dirk comic I saw :0

NOOO I WANTED TO SEE BRO

Yoooo John that's a cool weapon actually

That's a big boy right there what a big boy

ROSE THE FIRE ITS AT UR WINDOW

YO WAS THAT SILHOUETTE JADE?!?!?! JADE YAAA

Big boy!!!!!!

HEY I WAS INVESTED IN SEEING JOHN FIGHT. Oh at least we can see Bro. Wait how's Rose

??? JADE???

OOP NOPE. VAGABOND

What the fuck is happening I

vagabond is so silly I like him

Hey guys I think a king hurt vagabond. Just a guess. Probably reaching idk /j

VAGABOND PISS SCENE ?!?!?! YIPPEE!!!

Oh nvm. Btw can we get this guy a burger

HES SO HAPPY OVER THE. idk what that is DANGANRONPA BLOOD IN A CAN!!!!!!

HEY WHAT THE FUCK ARE ON THESE SCREENS BTW. Wait I'm shouting so much. But what the fuck. Dave has his sprite??? Yay???? I thought he was gonna fight Bro??? What happened to Lil Cal???

Hey isn't that Jade's symbol on the pumpkin

Yooo that's such a cool cutscene actuHUH HOW IS IT THE END OF THE ACT AGAIN

The frick….

Anyway. Thoughts: I like Vagabond. Jade is mysterious. Dave gay. Bro creepy. Someone pls save Rose. John you gotta put your big boy pants on and fight those ogres. Good act!!! idk why people say the pre-trolls stuff is boring I'm enjoying myself

#textpost #homestuck #live reaction #live homestuck reaction #first rime reading homestuck #long post

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stormblessed95 · 5 months ago

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Hi!

Do you have a post about jungkook singing a part of his and namjoons “I know” cover during the live Jimin and taehyung did? With jimins reaction to it?

Thanks!

The full live here, it's less than 10 mins

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Vmin bring up Festa being released with JK and RMs new song "I Know" at 2:17 minutes in. Tae then asks/tells JK to sing part of it. Eventually JK does and Jimin STARES at JK while he sings and looks a little SHY while he does. JK does not sing from the very first lyric for his snippet of the song he sings, but the second.... He sings:

"Know you love me boy, so that I love you"

While Jimin is staring at him sing off camera looking a little shy and pleased with the cutest little small smile on his face. It's precious. JK ONLY sings that lyric (maybe to Jimin directly or to no one or who knows, we can't see him, just Jimins reaction to him). And then JK calls for RM to sing too, and we hear other members start jokingly sing more of the song. Tae then sings the same lyric as JK ON camera, but Jimin is still staring off camera at where we easily assume is where JK is sitting.

When he starts paying attention again and trying to talk to ARMY again and compliment the song, it's clear he is still being a little "blushy" and Tae calls him on it. Lol "are you nervous?" While smirking at him. Jimin denies immediately and they then move on. Lol always the best friend thats gotta try and embarrass you huh 😂🤣

They talk about how other Festa content was released. Like the Bapsase choreo and all the group photos.

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All the other members made an appearance in the live except Suga, who they said was in the toilet. They made RM sing I Know as well. He sang from the start:

"Know you love me girl, so that I love you. Know you love me boy, so that I love you."

Jimins reaction is one of enjoying the song and his hyung, but not the same almost shy reaction he had before. It's all just very interesting 😏 Tae is singing I know on and off the ENTIRE live with zero reaction from anyone too. Lol

And it's just silliness from here ending with vmin fighting over who turns off the vlive. Lol honestly it's cute, not much to talk about too much. Just really fucking sweet and speaks to the crush they seemed to have on each other at this time. Jimin looks like he was crushing hard and the choice JK made to only sing the lyric about loving you BOY out of all the lyric choices he had was cute too. Lol

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They are just so cute 🥰

#jikook #kookmin #160602 jikook #jikook in 2016 #jikook vlives #jikook i know #jikook i know vlive

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todaysdocument · 1 year ago

Text

Letter from J. V. Yaukey

Record Group 173: Records of the Federal Communications Commission Series: General Correspondence

A radio listener expresses is appreciation of the Mercury Theater's War of the Worlds broadcast.

[Stamp in upper left corner] Received Federal Communications Commission [unreadable] [Stamp in upper middle] Received Nov 15 1938 Correspondence Section Aberdeen, S. Dak. November 1, 1938 Federal Communications Commission Washington, D.C. [Stamped] 44-3 War of the Worlds Gentlemen: I have read considerable concerning the program of Orson Welles presented over the Columbia Broadcasting System Sunday evening. I suppose that by this time you have received many letters from numerous cranks and crack-pots who quickly became jitterbugs during the program. I was one of the thousands who heard this program and did not jump out of the window, did not attempt suicide, did not break my arm while beating a hasty retreat from my apartment, did not anticipate a horrible death, did not hear the Martians "rapping at my chamber door", did not see the monsters landing in war-like regalia in the park across the street, but sat serenely entertained no end by the fine portrayal of a fine play. The "Mercury Theatre" has been one of the radio high-lights of the week for me this fall. The program Sunday, I felt, was one of their better programs. Should your commission contemplate serious measures toward the Columbia Broadcasting System my suggestion would be that the "Mercury Theatre" be directed to re-broadcast this program and the reaction of all the listening audience be solicited. In the interest of a continuation of the fine things in radio today, I am, Very respectfully yours, J.V. Yaukey [Signature] J.V. Yaukey P.S.- I am in the State Administrative office of the South Dakota State Employment Service and every member of our staff who heard the program subscribes to what I have had to say. [Stamp] Filed in Dec 15 1938 D.M. & F. SEC.

#archivesgov #November 1 #1938 #1930s #orson welles #war of the worlds #Mercury Theater #fcc

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touch-starved-switch · 1 year ago

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DAY 3: CUDDLES LEE

When you came in and plonked yourself on me knocking the air out of my lungs i could garantee you came for something.

tickle tickle tickles! and i was happy to give you what you wanted. buuuuttt you have to ask!

I rap my arms around you nuzzling my face into your neck, resting my head on your shoulders giving me great acess to your neck and ears and of course i have perfect view of your adorable little face!

"is something wrong lovely," i try my best to make my best confused face but that fascade quickly drops and a whisper in your ear "tickle monster got your tounge?~"

Was that a squeak cutie? how precious i can get you like this with just some teasy words! But i know what gets an even better reactions out of you!

I gently trace your forehands with the tops of my fingers never reaching anywhere particulairly ticklish but i know this makes all the butterflies in your tummy flutter!

"now if there's something you want you need to tell me love or how will i ever know~" i drawl out making your blush spread to your ears! aaaww how precious!

But still those simple words arn't coming out!

"let me help you aalll you have to say is 'can you please tickle me' its not that hard darling!" i see your eyes widen at the request. How could i get more evil! well i have an idea.

Wiggling my fingers over your tummy and whisper the mantra in your ear "im going to tickle you, im going to tickle you, im going to tickle, tickle tickle you to peaces!"

Okay im being mean now and i don't think i can hold back anymore even if your flustered reactions are liturally the cutest fucking thing i've ever seen!

With that all ten fingers desent wiggling, poking, squeezing, scribbling and rhasberrying all of your little giggle spots keeping my squirmy little lee trapped in a cuddle.

I squeeze your knees making sure they both get equal amount of attention not forgetting the underneath! moving up to your thigh spidering my fingers along them listening to the lovely sound of your frantic giggling! oooh and this gorgeous tummy i just wanna poke, poke...

pokepokepokepoke

aaaalll the way to your ribs and underarms all while ensuring every inch of your neck and ears feel my tickly kisses!

You'll be doing a lot of giggling today hunny!

#tickle community #sfw tickling community #tickle #tickle fluff #lee #ler #tickle scenarios #froggy rambles #sfw t word #t word

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thesixthcavalier · 1 year ago

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I want to rant for a bit here about some of the gameplay elements of Stray Gods that advance so much of the story and character choices that make this story so amazing. Others have probably noticed these things and put them in better words than I, but I've been listening and relistening to various versions of the soundtrack and have an obsession to feed, so here we are.

Much has already been made of the madly impressive fact that the songs are a complex and winding series of choices, where distinct instruments and styles are made to flow neatly from one choice to the next, and each choice you make can drastically change ones you get down the line. And for good reason, that is crazy and amazing and I love it. But what I want to talk about is the way the choices you have, and how they aren't as simple as you might first think, builds characters and relations throughout the game and enhances the story.

To start with, we all know you generally have three options, or flavors, to choose from: Red/Blue/Green. At the start of the game you choose on of these colors to be the sort of core personality of your version of Grace. Green is charismatic, friendly and well meaning, Red is tough and willing to be brash and bold, and Blue is clever and cunning. The nature of this matching of colors to personality is reinforced with several early choices in your interactions with Caliope, Hermes, and the Chorus.

But as the game continues, it quickly becomes apparent that these options get a lot more meat on their bones and that they are not as cut and dry as it might seem on first glance. Yes, Green tends to be more about being friendly while Red is more about a fighty Grace. But the key thing I think, and what really fascinates me, is that it goes deeper on each of these options in relation to who or what Grace is interacting with. Red choices are often confrontational and direct, but that doesn't mean antagonistic. There are several points throughout the game where Red options are definitely cutting through the bullshit or trying to start a fight, but there are also a lot of times where it's a direct and measured response from Grace to try and cut to the heart of an issue.

Blue meanwhile often presents plainly as the clever, thinky option. Again often very true, but I think it also represents the restrained and strategic option. Several blue options are about weighing what is going on, or Grace stepping back to take in her different paths. Green meanwhile has a lot to do with empathy. In my first playthrough I often found myself leaning towards Green options solely because they were instinctive, gut reactions on how to handle people going through something difficult, or to try and mellow out a situation.

All of this is to say, it is utterly fascinating how these choices interact in different scenes in ways that immediately lean into both the character you are choosing for Grace to be, and those she is interacting with. Take Medusa for example. The pure Red track of that fight is all but an actual fight. Grace is taking this in a very hero vs. monster direction and throughout is almost eager to get to actual blows, meanwhile Green leans much more into the angle of Medusa as a victim, a tool being poorly used by the woman who first wronged her anyway. And Blue is manipulative. It sees the paths before Grace and says "I don't need to fight this person, I can use her hurting to get what I want."

We see this even more clearly in Aphrodite's song, and in your first meeting with Persephone, but in different forms. In those songs, while Red is still extremely antagonistic, it takes on much different contexts. With Persephone, Grace is still spoiling for a fight, but a lot of it comes off as less heated. Yeah she is trying to rev up Persephone and cut her down, but it feels a lot more like a poetry slam or rap battle than lines preceding an all out brawl. Meanwhile with Aphrodite it's Grace trying to cut through flowery words and get to the heart of what she sees as the problem with this whole situation.

And to top all of this off, and not go on forever since this is already more than long enough, the way the latter half of the game has you choose another personality trait for Grace, the story not just telling you she has changed and grown but actively making it an element of the game by expanding your special option choices, is brilliant. It naturally, on a first playthrough, leads you into picking a secondary option that is most in line with the way you have been taking Grace as things unfold. If you started the game eager to fight but have since seen the story unfold and feel a calmer, more empathetic approach is warranted, you'll naturally pick that option because it feels appropriate, and same for any other combination. It not only opens up more gameplay, but entwines gameplay with story, and allows you as the player to feel the journey Grace has been on. As yet another link to classical epic poetry it is a slam dunk, and as a gameplay mechanic that reinforces your connection to the character, it's a double slam dunk.

#Stray Gods #roleplaying musical #gameplay #it's seriously excellent in so many ways #the way music art style and gameplay choices come together to make the story more impactful? Fire #No one will read this and that's fine #I just love this game so damn much and need to throw my thoughts to the wind

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melto · 6 months ago

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@jemamore HI JEMA? JEMA I LOVE YOU. I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY SO BAD RIGHT NOW HELLO JEMA HI JEMA. SMILING AT YOU. I NEED TO PLAY IN THIS SPACE FOR A BIT.

i think there are a lot of ways to go about this esp with deciding to take a more kr or sentai route. i think the group aspect of paradox live is so important that it would make sense to take a more ranger team formation, and with like them all sharing like such a specific way of fighting that is unified but allows for a lot of flair still. and there would still be a way for those suits to still have such an extreme amount of swag while being ranger like and all. its also a lot easier for me to picture that many people in sentai uniforms than having to manifest so many rider suits and shit. extremely daunting of a thing, and well i do just think it fits better. trust me on this<3 however originally i was thinking that it would be more interesting for them to be more like metal/rider-esque suits for like trap reactions and the corrosion but i think actually if their suits are like the gobuster's it would be awesome.

Like this being reflective of the corrosion worsening is awesome, and it would still like be something that exists physically on them. can see a really dramatic moment of bae transforming after hajun has been hiding it so well and after he's suited up he just starts like sparking out of control and his suit gets fucked before they even start the battle. Also i think allen would just look sick as FUCK with a broken helmet. everyone always does but i want my best friend allen to have a crazy moment like that.

they would be using like music as their main weapon and the illusions which i fear does put it in some hypmic territory but they obvi will have the craziest swag with it, and i dont think i would be full songs all the time. maybe its like flinging their illusions at enemies, creating weapons and one of them raps to make its power greater, to shield them, etcetc. im not fully sure how that would work. they transform by holding onto their phantometal really tight and then they get swallowed up by their own illusion or something. i think their phantometal would kinda just like manifest outside of them after they overcome the initial trap reaction/corrosion and they have a special affinity for it. it doesnt mean that they are like immune, they are just a bit stronger to it and have better control than a normal person would. dont worry about it too much lolol.

def Really big arc where an enemy makes it so allen loses his voice and he runs away like he can't be useful and is just a liability to the others because he can only do like normal guy kicks and stuff since he cant interaction properly with their illusions and he cant create his own bc his emotions are so out of wack nothing holds and they have to keep protecting him and he just gets his ass beat. power of love brings his voice back. of course it does. he can still write them lyrics he can still plan and they follow his lead so well. he's not a born leader but he's their special guy and they believe in him even when he doesnt believe in himself. yknow the drill.

i think in overall plot, it would be a little like how haruto is saving people from despair by like literally jumping into their minds to save them in wizard, but it would be saving people who are victims of the phantometal and also like ryusoulger with the negative emotions are creating the monsters. the monsters are created from the illusions and once they feed off the person enough the person starts having a like full trap reaction to fully take their life away. like they are having more mild versions of it, thats kinda just written off as more of a nightmare but that misery and corrosion stick with them and the monster is just like yummy! usually bae can stop it before it gets too fucking bad but sometimes they DO have to go inside a person to save them.

They are still like bae. they still are a music group (i dont think the phantometal would be used for performances in this universe. they are all just doing normal hiphop) they still slay but they also have to. fucking save people. they have to save all the others in paralive at some point. First being anne. i think it starts with hajun and allen being the only two really involved and they dont tell anne bc they both know they will be like Fuck idc if i cant transform im helping in some way but then anne falls victim and they are the first person they have to actually go inside to save and when anne comes out of that they are suddenly able to transform too. maybe that happens with all the performers but they dont work with bae as like a unified team or anything usually. they have their own shit to handle, but ofc they will lend a hand when necessary. iori is fully aware of all this shit even before bae gets started doing their thing. ofc he is. obviously. as is expected of him.

its such a strange place for them to be because it IS the phantometal that is being used to hurt all these people, but they use it to transform and to fight still. they have to! (very deep into this plot when 1nm8 come in they are portrayed as so antagonistic bc they come in so hot trying to take away the thing that is allowing them to save people and its soo frustrating)

also obviously they will. be effected by trap reactions and the corrosion, which i mentioned the latter in reference to suit degradation and stuff but i think if they are transformed for too long or use too many/too strong of illusions they get sent immediately into one even if they are still suited up, and it would like be on a scale of they are having a panic attack or they are uncontrollably lashing out. everyone would know bc it would kinda be like this

and then they would just be kinda like. yknow got that evil glow or whatever. i dont think much would really have to change about what everyone is seeing when they have their trap reactions, but i do think to some extent that when they are like losing control and attacking people they are like aware but they cant do anything about it. allen lashing out and going after anne and hajun and hes screaming for it to stop but he cant make his body stop and then his vision starts to get kinda engulfed by flames type of shit.

i guess that stupid ugly ass guy with the tongue from the anime is like whos behind it. i hate him so fucking much i dont even want to think about it but he's kinda the perfect guy to just be inserted into this without much changed. he's still got chisei's metal. he's still got those illusions of buraikan. who would also be like. transformed in more monstrous of a way and be there antagonizing them and the "heads" of what they are going against. Absolutely fucking devastating when they detransform later on and its just them, legendary buraikan, who allen and everyone loves and it rocks their world and makes everything so much worse. its so demoralizing because fuck how are they supposed to create hiphop better than them in battle? they are always getting their asses kicked when those two show up and now they understand WHY they are never able to stand a chance. beautiful greying at 36 haruomi is doing shit on the down low. he can transform more in the fashion of bae. bc well. he's really him. Lol.

Anyways. these are my first thoughts about it...smiling! i think i'll end up revisiting this and adding more (: kicking my feet and giggling having sooo much fun thank you thank you!!!

also allen is obviously their red, anne is pink, hajun can be blue. or yellow. whos to say. They are obviously all so in love and so awesome transgender. bae throuple forever and ever baby!!! and of course, buraikan is having crazy gay sex, as they would in every universe always. Heart emoji.

#this is going to be on my mind for days and days thank you so much i needed paradox live toku i need to have this beautiful world to play in #isaac paralive posting hours #i started typing this at work in like such a crazy trance that i didnt realize that it was time for us to close lol

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darkwingphoenix · 16 days ago

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Hello, @loominggaia Fans!

You guys coming into The Ole Meme Bakery Today

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I won't throw ya out tho, you're always welcome!

Darshaan when Columbina goes trick-or-treating as him (She's going all in on the costume, bare titties and all)

Skylie to Saraia (She's a straight 10 (To Saraia) with a high libido)

Saraia when she gives Skylie a shark onesie:

Gultopp using the Evangeline Civil War to start shit up (Damiscend, The Unseelie, Mogdir, and The Seelie Court gang up on him)

Clarity trying to convince Cobalt to let her date/marry Lumine (She's flopping around the floor, and Lumine's EATING IT UP)

Cobalt when Sai and Justinia have body esteem issues (Skylie's his backup gal)

Going to Zareen Capital Be Like

Cobalt And The Evangeline Royal Sisters Smiling VS Saraia, Justinia, Sai, and Angie smiling (Very flirtatious, very we wanna top in the bedroom like)

Skylie when Saraia helps her with a tech thingy

Skylie and Cyana, having left Evangeline after suppressing themselves for years (Skylie's still messed up after being burned on the face with red hot iron rods, Cyana's totally recovered from it all)

Marine's husband when Lumine turns on him when Signora and Columbina are trying to assassinate him (She actually stabbed him in the back, trying to take his focus on her sisters to kill him quickly)

Skylie coming home to Sygbarne and the younger divines she adopts:

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A random hilichurl

A party-loving minotaur be like

The Harbingers on a calm afternoon

A Random Monster Skylie Makes

Lumine when Signora and Columbina are taking too long to stab their father

A random human rapper and Amber doing a rap battle (She completely wrecks him and then steals his hoes)

Bishop Be Like

Random Monster Skylie Makes Be Like:

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Marine's husband's champion after leaving to duel Lumine personally (She used her Vision and Paimon to kill him easier)

Dorzlaf inspecting a new goblin slave of his

Skylie memorizing her songs by funny mislyrics

Skylie when drunk

A music instrument snob being snooty and Skylie clowning on them

Cyana being supportive of Signora and Columbina, and Rodrig trying to shut her down

What Skylie imagined her crowd was before she got enough confidence without it (Her adoring nieces, nephews, and kiddos)

Citrine throwing out her Sticks and Bones (Skeleton/plant fusions)

Skylie to any of her younger kids/nieces and nephews

Skylie on Valentine's Day/Looming Gaia's version to Saraia

Saraia and Darshaan serving

Saraia as a little kid

Rook to people who tell Skylie she's such a powerful male

Skylie making a cutie anime figure for Reformed Lindism

Now, Cyana pretending to be straight:

youtube

Saraia trying to make a non-murder monster with Skylie, Vex and Darshaan tryna help out

The first minotaur to win a skateboard competition

Citrine, Amber, and Kitsu practicing necromancy at 3 AM(Citrine picked it up instinctively and taught her sisters)

A Demon tryna get food at 3 AM

Cyana to suitors vs Angie

If someone did the crime of Hurting Collei (AKA, she tripped while they had the misfortune of being within 3 meters of her)

Jeimos Be Like

Sprights and Pixies Be Like

Lumine's Fave Color being Purple after Clarity guessed it (She didn't have a fave until Clarity said Purple)

The Fanaka Triplets and Cyangeline Kids when Rustafi makes his first law as High King (They're completely clowning)

Skylie adopting random orphans be like

Morgause ripping her shirt off, Skylie showing kink-concern, Saraia kink-observing, Darshaan kink-questioning and Vex making a kink-hypothesis using the kink-scientific theory

Ei and Makoto Be Like

Saraia and Skylie Being a Spy Pair

Skylie when someone fetishizes her kids/nieces/nephews (She's stabbing them with Celestial Blade)

Skylie and Saraia half the time

Citrine and Amber at an early seance (Citrine's tryna be professional, Amber's just clowning the hell out)

Cobalt having his kids come with him to Damiscend (And Maia/Dottore/Indigo/Capitano's reactions, Collei/Lumine/Clarity's reactions, and Rosaria's reaction)

Cobalt and Justinia reacting to Ei and Makoto saying they're the twins' parents (They look like a human with sirene traits, like Tolsa of Gawe but with a sirene base)

Capitano when Sandrone caved an ogre slaver's ribs in, killing him on the spot (She broke her wrist and arm and dislocated her shoulder)

Mr. Ocean during that one Zareenite interview

Amber and Maui surfing during a tropical storm

Amber and Cyana in this situation (Amber reads some FUCKED UP smut)

Maia running on water using galemancy

Random day in Ascendance Be Like:

youtube

Cobalt and Skylie dueling (Ajaw served as the tumble weed)

Cute Saibalt Moments with their kids as babies (And also Justinia and Sai's twins, all the same age)

A Domestic Monster Skylie Made (It can't survive at all in the wild)

Bunch of Skylie's kids as 4-6 year olds

Skylie exposing Evangeline's nobility with a banger

Lumine during a self-imposed trip her dad approved of so she'd be free for a few years (She decides to come back to take out her dad personally, as she decided he was a POS)(Capitano heard her walking past him and went to hug her, as only she and their dad knew of her adventuring)(This is sorta meant to copy Genshin Impact in a way)

Columbina threatening her grandfather with fake Khaenri'ah Rot (An affliction Skylie made that makes those afflicted essentially have a pro-equality, pro-magic and anti-slavery symbiote like from Venom that becomes a massive problem in Evangeline)

Skylie, Cyana, Lumine, Signora and Columbina to their family at the High Royal Gala

LG Monsters when asked this

Lumine to a Neuvillette impersonator at a convention

Lumine to Clarity vs to her adventuring buds

My headcanon voices for: Columbina, Amber, Citrine, Alani, Saraia, Skylie (As a teen), Indigo, Darshaan, Dottore, Cobalt, Capitano, and Tyger Fanaka

Sai trying to use her kids' slang

Skylie using pyromancy with Celestial Blade:

youtube

The Divine Quartet (Skylie, Saraia, Darshaan, and Vex) bein badasses

Cobalt and Darshaan with their female friends/relatives (Almost all of whom are some sorta gay):

Gay facts, with Cyana:

This has been Gay Facts with Cyana

Cobalt to Collei:

Saraia to Skylie trying out a new outfit:

Paimon, Lumine's right hand gal, standing at attention:

Whole Buncha Gayness from Looming Gaia

Marine to Columbina

Capitano and his Khaenri'ah Rot going into Kelvingyard by themselves

Cecaelia to Kobolds Be Like

Lumina having identity issues grappling with her gender and being able to outright shapeshift into people she knows well

Skylie thinking of Saraia

#the ole meme bakery #best meme bakery this side noalen #Youtube #dwpmemebakery

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chiquititaosita · 2 years ago

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monster trio reacting to you playing chicano hip hop, and lowrider jams part 1

post type: headcanon

reader: latina reader

summary: you show them new music and they’re reactions are unpredictable.

ft: monster trio luffy,zoro, and sanji

bear note: the second songs that I link are for part two’s future post 🤭

Luffy

‣ totally interested into the music

‣ “I LIKE THAT PART!! OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!” he loves the talk box 😭❤️

-dances like a fucking idiot with you, and makes you dance with him.

-he’ll be screaming these specific lyrics

-“you stood out from the group across the room! I had to keep my attention on you!!!!”

‣ he’s definitely a fan! Of nb ridaz. For sure will go to any concert if they’re performing at any island the straw hats land.

‣ “eres la princesa qUe Me VUELE lOCOOOOOO!!!!!!” HES even got chopper, usopp and sanji on this song 🤦🏽‍♀️

‣ the minute y’all play this song after a while, luffy will scream on the top of this lungs to every song that’s on. it’s adorable 😭❤️

-“HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU BABY!? THAT YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY!! A GOOD CRAZY!” he was just singing random lyrics from this group. Since the group had made new songs. He follows MC Magic (the guy who does the talk box) and loves this one song which I’ll link here

‣ you do not understand, you’ve showed him a new world to Chicano music and lowrider jams…. he didn’t even know that was, until then he’ll stick to it.

‣ His mixtapes are full of 90s rap and hip hop and some cumbias

Zoro

‣ he’s just like….what?

‣ “ I hate it.” he lied he loved

‣ he snickered at the part where chino grande says “baby gorl don’t cry 🫦”

-he wanted to do that for Halloween the makeup so y’all did that.

-hums the tune when sharpening his swords.

‣ “why are you playing it again?” You ask him?

‣”you like the song don’t you?”

‣”yeah-“

‣”then don’t complain.” He pouted because he secretly loves it

‣ “is youuuu.. and I wouldn’t trade it…” he’ll bop his head to the song, and tap his feet to it..

bear note- since tiktok ate this song I’ll give you part two.

Sanji

‣ “how do you know that song?” He was shocked and his heart was fluttering

‣ he’ll ask you because his mom would always sing a certain song to him when he was little. He told you it would always have him sound asleep, or leave a smile on his face.

‣“I’ve always heard this song playing when I was little. It stuck with me.” you sigh in nostalgia and happiness where you had those moments at the flea markets with your family eating elotes, tacos and street food.

‣“dance with me.” you’ll grab his hand and hug on his sleeve.

‣”as you wish my darling, just let me start it over again.” He puffed out his cigarette placing it on his ashtray. Starting the track over on the speaker.

‣ “remember when I told you about my mother singing me a certain song if I ever felt sad, or frustrated?” he gazed at you eagerly. You nodded in response and smiled at the fact you knew what he was going to say

‣”is this the song?”

‣”yeah…..” he explained how it was a comfort to him after him opening up to you about his family. you never felt so bad for such a man who has such a loving presence and a very big heart.

‣”ill try my best to sing it for you as often as I can.” He’ll whisper into your ear before kissing your temple, and tell you how lucky he is to have you.

‣ after a few days ago by when y’all land to a new island, the song plays again from a live band. You smile at him “may I have this dance amor?”

‣ he giggled and took your hand “yes yes you may.” He’ll kiss the tip of your nose, and sing in your ear. The way this man sings is heavenly 🥰

‣ “my angel baby is what I am going to call you from now on..” he’ll mumble as a blush appears on his face.

‣ it’s now your theme song. because he sings it or hums it all the time when he’s with you.

‣ so now anything with angels, or anything that says angel baby he buys it for you 😭❤️

‣any song with oldies he’s in love for real 🥰

#Spotify #one piece imagines #sanji x latina reader #sanji x fem reader #zoro x reader #luffy x reader #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #pirate hunter zoro #sanji fluff #sanji x y/n #one piece x black!reader

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piratesgiftexchange · 1 year ago

Text

by depressedvillainobsession, for @beemovieerotica

PROMPT: "Davy Jones and Maccus realizing after 150 tenuous years at sea that they really are the most compatible for each other"

CONTENT WARNINGS: Period typical homophobia and punishment

WORD COUNT: 7,910

Another morning the monster sat hunched in front of his keys. Another miserable day. Another day in ten, in a hundred, in a thousand. Each one exactly the same as the previous, and likely the same as the one that would proceed it.

Monotony. The true terror of the Dutchman for any of the crew who had sailed with her long enough to know the things to be afraid of lay far beyond surface appearances.

However, for some of them, they had yet to find things to be more afraid of on the Dutchman than in the lives they had left behind.

For one crew member in particular, monotony was not the trouble of the day. Far from it.

The shark headed and bull headed first mate, Maccus, was late for his duties. An occurrence so rare and scandalous aboard the cursed ship that it reduced her crew to whispering and gossiping like children.

It was only the slow rapping of a wooden cane, echoing against the deck, that hushed its many occupance. Whiskers quivered and stilled, fins flattened hastily against damp skin, extra limbs and protrusions were tucked away. All to quell a growing octopian anger which directed their every move.

The icy gaze of the captain swept the deck. His tentacled finger tightened around the decaying wood of his cane as he continued to find his search empty and lacking of one of the few aboard this ship to whom it could be said he shared ‘fleeting’ affections of friendship.

“Where is my first mate, Palifico?” Davy Jones asked in a low voice, quiet and rife with dark expectation. As if Palifico should be able to summon the man to his side.

Palifico was a tall man appearing to be made of an empty forest of twisted coral. His eyes were two hollow, dark holes in his head, and it was a mystery how a voice even escaped him as he turned to face Davy Jones.

“I believe he is…asleep in his hammock, captain.” His deep voice hesitated, faded in the middle of his sentence, as he watched the captain’s expression.

“Still?” Davy Jones’ beard flicked in displeasure, the tentacles set to writhing like a nest of snakes as he looked up at the sun, well and truly risen in the sky.

“Still.” Palifico rumbled, moving his face back away to survey the silent crew arranged below them on the main deck. They were all waiting for a reaction now. There had to be one. A crew member disregarding his duties like this was dangerous, especially in such an esteemed position.

Davy’s thick moustache-like tentacles twitched, and his mouth beneath curled into a snarl of displeasure. He released his tight hold on his cane only to quickly shuck his hand higher up its length, allowing him to lift its tip off the deck and use it to gesture his bodyguard away.

“Go. Now. And see to it that the crew do their duties to the ship. I didn’t expect Maccus’ absence to cause such disarray, considering they are the same duties we have been performing for near a century and a half, and yet I stand disappointed and clearly overestimating the ability of my crew.”

“Would you like me to send someone to bring Maccus to you?” Palifico asked, apparently unfazed by the scathing manner in which Jones had just talked of his crew.

“If that is what I wished, I would have conveyed that to you. Go.” Davy Jones snapped at him, and Palifico inclined his head slightly and left, unruffled by the exchange.

With his cane still lifted, the captain made his way down the steps and across the deck down to the crew’s quarters. They consisted of a large area in the ship where hammocks were located along with bottles of whisky and other things 150 year old pirate quarters may have collected over time.

In the hammock in the corner, in the best, driest, and warmest spot in the whole room, lay his first mate.

He had his hands — which were slowly turning into claw-like appendages — tucked behind his wide shark’s head, and was whistling a low tune with his human eye closed.

“Did you think your absence would not be noted?” Davy Jones asked, letting his cane slip through his hold until the tip hit the deck with a loud ‘bang’.

The captain waited in silence for several long moments for a response, but Maccus only shrugged apathetically, keeping his eyes firmly closed.

“Or perhaps you thought I would not remember the date today, and you would receive a punishment great enough to ease you from your mind?”

At this Maccus did wince, and he slowly opened the one remaining eye in the front of his human face. The positioning of the socket was such that the first mate always looked terribly sad about something. But Davy knew it wasn’t just the eye that made Maccus appear morose today.

“Come now, Maccus. Kindred souls call to each other.”

“The 14th day of the 2nd month.” Maccus sighed, finally struggling up into a seated position despite the wriggling of the many extra limbs on his back and the swaying of the hammock beneath him. “Why did it have to happen on that day?”

“Because the fates are cruel and delight in our anguish.” Davy replied simply, moving weary bones across the space to Maccus’ side, where the first mate diligently held the hammock down so that the captain could take a seat beside him.

When Davy first became a sailor, his leg had prevented him from completing certain tasks with ease. Now that he had been sailing for decades, few things caused him difficulty. He had long since adapted and mastered abilities that made him one of the greatest sailors on the seas.

And yet Maccus still acted out of habit, making sure the captain’s path was clear where he could, carrying his cane for him when he had no need of it, moving to help him at the slightest sign of inconvenience.

Similarly, Davy Jones could tell what every grimace and snarl on the shark headed man’s face meant. He could distinguish between anger and fear, deference and rebellion, with a single flash of those pointed teeth. Maccus was as easy for him to read as the poetry he indulged himself in.

That was how long Maccus and Davy Jones had been at each other’s side. Their relationship was full of these little habits and rituals; the catching of an elbow when the captain stumbled in fatigue, the comforting —yet clandestine — brush of a claw when the first mate betrayed a sense of pain.

It was good fortune for them, then, that their relationship was so habitual in nature. The natural way in which they moved about each other, in the same way a breeze might weave through the leaves of a great oak, made their relationship perfectly invisible to the eye. It was only when one of them faltered in their duties, made some kind of misstep, that they were revealed. For a breeze does not rush to put a leaf back in place on its branch once it is dislodged. The leaf withers, and the breeze moves on.

“Don’t give me that lecture Davy, please. For the love of— something.” Maccus snapped. He closed his eye, squeezing it shut tightly, and sighed. “I’m well aware of our circumstances.”

Davy Jones turned his face away for a moment, collecting himself. Maccus was right, he was no mere sailor, fished from the sea. He was Davy’s first mate. His most valued friend beyond even that. And certainly no fool under any illusions of optimism.

“You know that I can still feel it?” Maccus asked suddenly, breaking the gentle silence between them, neither awkward, nor expectant. And Davy turned to face him.

“Feel what? Is it your…scar?”

“It still feels as though my throat is constricting and collapsing all at once. And I swear my face must be swelling, my hands clawing at my neck as I try to take in air. Even when I stand planted against this deck, I can feel my feet kicking underneath me in open space. I can still see all their eyes on me, still hear that voice saying-“

“You are not still there, Maccus.” Davy Jones interrupted Maccus, as he saw his first mate begin to breathe quicker and shallower, and his words become so hasty in his mouth that the captain could scarcely discern them any longer.

Davy Jones rested a hand on Maccus’ shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He remembered well that day. He remembered the charge. But he did not wish to hear repeated such vile words. Jones had already lived it long ago, when he had wielded his rank for the final time to get Maccus down from the gallows, and given up his own life of comfort to pursue a life of piracy with Maccus. It had been the only way to make certain his friend lived to see the light of the next dawn.

“Do you remember when you stole that apple from Mrs. Highgate when we were boys?” Davy asked, trying to pull Maccus out of his tortured memories and into better ones.

Maccus laughed slightly, baring his needle sharp teeth in a grimacing smile. He let go of his head where he had been cradling it, one hand around each side of the shark’s hammer head. His eyes were still glimmering with tears, but as always, he was trying to follow his captain’s directives.

“She was so angry, she made you buy the whole lot for me.” The first mate dragged the back of his hand across his eyes, which was probably not advisable given what manner of foul things were growing on their bodies. “Oh Davy, you were so innocent and polite back then.”

“Admirable virtues, I suppose.” The captain commented, two of his tentacles gone rummaging in his great coat for something, and each emerging respectively with a fine silver pipe, encircled and cradled by molded crab legs, and a small pouch of tabacco.

“For the child that you were, perhaps. If you had any virtue left to you now, I would have long since gutted you and thrown you overboard, to have this ship for myself.” Maccus said in a low voice.

It was said mostly in jest, but Davy Jones took the sentiment to be perfectly true.

Although there was a mutual long standing and deep affection between the two that enabled Maccus to have this candidacy with his captain, Davy was certain the first mate would do what he had to if Davy Jones proved himself more liability than asset. It was part of the reason he made such a good first mate.

Perhaps selfishly, the captain still hoped it would cause Maccus at least a little pain to do so, even though he would have expected nothing less. They had, after all, no official licence of loyalty to each other.

As Davy turned the tobacco pouch in one tentacle over his pipe, and lit it, his mind couldn’t help wandering.

He looked at Maccus, and he knew he trusted that man with his life, should his life prove worth enough to save. He looked at his first mate, and he saw the person whom he most respected and admired on the ship. Looking at that wide shark’s head, the fold of his unseeing eye, the permanently twisted grimace of his mouth, he saw a man who was competent, intelligent, who was willing to do what he must for the benefit of many.

He and Maccus had known each other since they were practically children — although their younger selves would have protested at such a notion of infancy — and he had to admit to himself that he cared for Maccus more deeply than anyone else on this ship. In fact, more deeply than anyone he had ever known since Calypso.

What that meant? The captain couldn’t be sure. And perhaps, he wouldn’t allow himself to elaborate further.

“Well, rest assured old friend, there are no virtues here. Only vices.” Davy Jones puffed out smoke, the ashen cloud exiting through the breathing tentacle on the side of his head.

The tentacle that was gripping the pipe uncurled slowly, extending itself out to Maccus, proffering the pipe to him.

It was a beautiful thing. The bowl of it made out of whalebone, with crab claws delicately carved around it, seemingly holding the bowl steady. The mouth piece was made out of rare silver mined from the bottom of the sea. All in all, an exquisitely precious item to the captain.

Maccus looked down at the pipe offered to him, eye widening in surprise.

He hesitated for a moment, the captain had never shared a smoke with him before. Tobacco was expensive and not such an easy find. Not to mention the difficulty that came with trying to keep the stuff dry on this ship.

Finally though, the first mate decided not to keep the captain waiting, and tentatively took the pipe from him. With a sort of anxious care, he brought the mouthpiece to his own lips and inhaled a few breaths of the smoke.

Casually, Davy Jones held out his tentacle again, and Maccus handed it back to him for the captain to smoke a moment.

“Do you ever regret it?” Maccus asked softly, but the sentiment was undercut slightly by the coughing fit that shook his voice.

“Hmm?” Davy Jones asked absentmindedly, focusing suddenly very much on inhaling smoke from the pipe. “Maccus, I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate. I’m certainly a man full of regrets.”

“Saving me, I mean.”

Davy Jones had been in the midst of passing the smoking pipe back over to Maccus, and Maccus had instinctively reached to take it from him, but now the captain had frozen. His tentacle held the smoking pipe aloft, while Maccus’ clawed hand hovered just underneath expectantly, becoming more hesitant with each passing second.

The captain’s sharp blue eyes searched out Maccus’, but the first mate was avoiding his gaze, looking at the deck instead.

“Are you being serious? Is that some kind of joke?” Davy Jones asked, but it came out as more of a demand. Maccus didn’t know why he seemed so angry, but the skin around the captain’s eyes was scrunched as he scowled.

“I only mean…you gave up your whole life, your whole comfortable life, to save me. And now we’re here. You must…you must have regrets. It’s only logical. No one would blame you for it. I certainly wouldn’t.” Maccus started, beginning to blabber and hesitate as Davy fixed those pale eyes on him in a vice-like hold.

“Maccus.” Davy interrupted Maccus’ quickly derailing ramble. “I thought you were a sensible man. Am I to believe I put the ship in the charge of an imbecile?”

“I…” Maccus was now staring at Davy Jones, wide eyed, completely taken aback by the direction of the conversation. “No. No, not at all, sir.”

“Then why would you ask me such an idiotic question?”

“Well, I…I suppose-“

“Before rescuing you from the gallows, I had already been discussing romantic ideas of running from all responsibility, hadn’t I?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“I would have become a pirate at some point regardless. You just sped up the process. And even then, being a pirate was simply one event along the unfortunate course that my life has taken. It was certainly not the cause. The credit for our situation lies solely on my shoulders. Do you understand?”

Maccus looked away again, but he had the faintest smile on his face. Davy had such a strange way of reassuring someone. He was aggressive, he was loud, and at times cruel. But the curtness in his responses had served to help Maccus snap out of more than one dire thought.

“I suppose I must.”

“Therefore, there is no conceivable reason I could possibly regret saving your life.” Davy Jones pressed.

He shifted around in the hammock, eventually heaving himself out of it and walking over to the wall, where he had leant his cane for the duration of that conversation.

Maccus was still staring at him, and Davy Jones took the opportunity to brush down his coat and adjust his grip on his cane.

“Besides, you have been a valuable first mate, and a skilled pirate. It would be rather a shame if you’d gone and died that day. And for no reason at all. At least now, you are committing actual crimes.”

“A-actual crimes? Right. You’re right.” Maccus stood up too and flexed the aching lobster legs on his back, which always went stiff in the mornings after he’d slept on them.

“Speaking of crime.” Davy continued on briskly, paying no mind to Maccus’ hesitance. His word was law. Maccus and the others would have to accept that. He would not tolerate a word to the contrary, even aimed at oneself.

“You will have to be punished for your insolence when we appear in front of the rest of the crew. Not turning up for duties in the morning is unacceptable. Especially for a man of such…” The captain looked Maccus up and down for a moment, his gaze lingering. “…importance.”

“Of course, of course.” Maccus said, ducking his head in acknowledgement.

Maccus and Davy Jones were practically founders of the crew, they knew how things were run. How they had been run for 150 years. They both knew what was necessary.

—

“Ah, here’s the lazy sod.” Penrod said, crouching on top of a crate to peer at the emerging Maccus, followed by the captain.

Maccus bared his sharp, pointed shark’s teeth at Penrod in a vicious snarl. The first mate wanted to say that he wasn’t such an idiot that he would actually sleep in and forget his duties, but he couldn’t. To tell them he’d been sat alone, wallowing in his sadness until the captain fetched him, would be much worse.

“What’ll it be, captain?” Jimmy legs asked immediately, stepping out from the crowd of pirates eagerly to face Davy Jones. The man thrived on pain, be it from anyone but himself.

Davy Jones looked subtly to the side, catching Maccus in his peripheral. The first mate was standing tall, with his chin high and gaze proud. He was certainly a brave and disciplined man, that could not be doubted.

“Five lashes.”

It was the bare minimum Davy Jones could afford to give.

“Very well. I’ll prepare my whip-“ Jimmy legs began, but Davy held out his claw to stop him.

“I shall deal the punishment out personally. Maccus is, after all, the first mate. I can’t have someone of less authority thinking they have a right to put him in his place. Ideas like that are dangerous, are they not, Bosun?”

Jones reached out his tentacle hand, waiting for Jimmy Legs’ to hand over his whip. One of his eyebrows was raised carefully, eyes fixed firmly on the Bosun in challenge.

The captain never dealt out lashes himself. It was either the Bosun, or someone that Jones wanted to punish in themselves. Someone soft-hearted, not accustomed to being on the ship.

A few tense moments elapsed as Jimmy Legs stared stonily into the captain’s eyes. He clearly wanted to challenge the order, to question the captain’s motives. But even he wouldn’t dare.

“Yes.” He replied finally, breaking the building tension that had rendered the air stiff and unbreathable. “That would be dangerous.”

The Bosun handed over the whip handle first, but when the captain grasped it, Jimmy Legs didn’t let go straight away. It took another breath, and a low warning snarl from the captain, like he was some kind of feral animal, before the Bosun let Davy Jones yank it out of his hand.

“Careful now, Bosun. I am the captain of this godforsaken vessel.” Davy Jones reminded him darkly, before stepping past the bitter looking man.

That you are.” Jimmy legs muttered. With an angry twist of his heel, he turned and gestured for two of the crew, Palifico and Ogilvey, to step forward and each grab hold of Maccus.

Maccus snatched his arms away and glared at them, bearing his fangs. Then he marched proudly forward with his head high to receive the lashings, taking up the position himself and removing the belt that crossed his torso.

Maccus needed no one to hold him down, as he made abundantly clear, digging in his own claws into the wood as he turned his vulnerable back on Davy Jones.

The captain, watching the entire admirable display, felt a sort of cold drip into his stomach as he realized something.

He didn’t want to hurt Maccus.

But with all eyes on them, and the scene he had made with Jimmy legs, he couldn’t back out of it now. And even besides that, giving Maccus to the Bosun would have simply made him feel worse.

Slowly, Davy Jones let the whip unfurl and trail against the deck. Maccus, facing away from him, closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. As stoic as he liked to play these things, whip lashes fucking hurt, no matter who you were. And especially when you had live lobster legs attached to your back.

Nothing could be done for it, and the captain was forced to dole out the punishment he had so insisted on. As was expected, Maccus buckled under the blows, crying out in pain, and several crew members had to rush to hold him up for the following lashes.

Davy winced as he saw the legs on Maccus’ back panic and cartwheel around uselessly in the air, bearing the brunt of the attacks. So much so that on the fifth and final lash, one of them split in half, the severed bit falling sadly to the deck.

The dismembered leg quivered pathetically on the ground for a few seconds, then fell still.

‘The Bosun would have done worse.’ Davy Jones reminded himself as he watched Ogilvey and Palifico carry Maccus away to see his wounds treated.

He would have. Davy Jones knew Jimmy Legs would have. He prided himself on causing the most damage possible. And normally, that didn’t bother Davy. On the contrary, it made an example out of anyone who opposed him.

But this time…this time he hadn’t wanted that to happen. This time, the idea of Maccus being shredded by the whip made Davy feel ill.

Maccus was more than just some unfortunate soul the Dutchman had happened to drag back from the brink of death into a pitiful, extended existence. Maccus was…he was Davy’s first mate.

Had there been anyone more loyal, more true, more trusted than him? Had there ever been someone so dedicated, so straightforward and capable, so perfect for the role? Had there ever been a pirate who fit so perfectly beside the captain, to the point that it was impossible to imagine another taking his place?

Maccus was all of that. He was the most precious first mate Davy Jones had ever had the pleasure to sail with. But it wasn’t just his many marketable skills that earned him both the captain’s respect and his budding (perhaps more so flowering) affections.

With Maccus, Davy Jones could talk, he could confide in. The first mate looked at him in appreciation when the captain played his music, when he wrote his poetry, or when he sketched the Dutchman for the hundredth time from a new angle as the ship changed and grew with time, alive with its own beating existence. Maccus knew it all, from the strange to the downright despicable, but still he stayed.

Davy Jones had found in him a strange sort of wisdom. The wisdom of a man who had never known anything more than the will to survive, the frantic desperation of trying to live in a world that wanted only to tear you down for arbitrary laws written in hate and malice. Maccus had never known peace, he had never known stability, or comfort. He knew only to appreciate what he had in the moment, and to move ever forward into the future.

There were moments where he lingered on the past, but never so much as the captain, who seemed unable to step out of his own personal limbo of pain and suffering, unable to take that first step forwards while the first mate ran ever onwards. Had he not been so loyal to Davy, the captain was sure Maccus would have found a way off the Dutchman by now and started anew. It was once again a testament to Maccus’ bravery and diligence that he’d stayed.

And that was how their relationship had developed.

Davy was the foundation, the methodical and the calculated, indulgent nonetheless in flights of romantic fancy. Maccus was the drive behind the solidity that was the captain. He pushed Davy forward, propelled them both through life. Maccus lent Davy his will to fight, and Davy helped him to live for more than mere fleeting moments.

The Dutchman, strange and terrible and painful as she was now, provided Maccus with a stability and safety he had never before known. There was comfort in monotony for Maccus, the surety that if he were punished, it would be for something he had done, rather than something he simply was.

There were many, many moments where Davy and Maccus didn’t truly understand each other. Where Maccus simply nodded while Davy ranted about the beauty of rhythms and notes, and Davy bit his lip to keep from interrupting Maccus as he explained his childhood, and what he had always known to be true and right.

But they did that for each other. They tried to understand one another, but when they didn’t it had no real impact on their concentration on and appreciation for the passion of the other.

Davy Jones wordlessly shoved the whip back into Jimmy Legs’ hands.

Maccus’ blood dripped from its length onto the captain’s shoes. Red, raw, human. It was real blood. That is to say, Davy Jones finally perceived it as real blood. The blood of another that didn’t belong on the barnacled toe of his boot, but rather in that person’s body. The well being of that body for which he happened to care for very much.

The captain’s gaze was far from the Bosun, instead fixed on the doorway Maccus had just disappeared through to rest and recover. However, when he started towards it, the Bosun made a very ill-considered move. The one of getting in the captain’s way.

“Cap’n, what are you doing? Maccus has duties, someone needs to get the ship in order for the day. The first mate mustn’t be coddled! He will take punishment like everyone else-“

“Shut up!” Jones hissed, pivoting on his good leg to face Jimmy Legs. “Or I swear to you, that whip will be out of your hands and tearing out the skin of your back before you can utter another putrid word.”

Jimmy Legs found that this outcome had in fact not been the one he had wanted at all. Luckily for him, the captain didn’t give him enough of a chance to protest before he left the main deck to find his first mate.

“Where is he?” Davy Jones demanded, as soon as he saw Ogilvey rushing through the corridors with his arms full of bandages.

The captain was led to the room where the crew all slept, and once again found Maccus in his hammock. Except this time he was face down and quivering silently in pain. The flesh of his back was a spider web of thin red cuts, but it was the lobster legs on him that begged anyone’s attentions.

Aside from the one that had snapped in half, the others were terribly damaged, sustaining deep wounds that left them hanging limp at odd angles. A few twitched and wriggled as Palifico took out large splinters from the ship and touched them to each leg to check that they were the appropriate lengths for a splint.

Maccus groaned quietly when Palifico, having accepted the bandages from Ogilvey, started wrapping up each leg with the appropriate splint. It didn’t look like a comfortable process.

“Will they grow back? Will they heal?” Davy demanded of Palifico, as if his bodyguard knew any more medicine than he did. In fact, Davy Jones probably knew the most out of anyone on this ship, given that he had received a wealthy education. And yet, that still didn’t constitute much, since he hadn’t studied much of the sciences.

Palifico shrugged, turning empty, soulless eyes on Davy Jones, his joints emitting loud cracking noises as the coral rubbed together.

“Davy?” Maccus asked, his voice muffled against the material of his hammock.

He could recognize those irregular footsteps. The extra tap of the cane against the floor. Most of all, he could recognize the voice. Anyone could recognize that voice. Davy had perhaps the most distinctive voice Maccus had ever heard, and he had spent his life since meeting the Scotsman listening out for it.

Maccus couldn’t help wondering why Davy Jones had come down to see him minutes after personally giving his first mate the lash, even if he could fully understand why the captain had done it. And Maccus knew that not only was it necessary, but Davy had been protecting him from a much worse punishment.

Still, he thought the sting of the whip from the captain’s hand, especially after Davy and Maccus had had such a sensitive conversation, was far worse than any flesh rendering blow that the Bosun could have delivered with all his vengeance and hate.

Maccus trusted Davy, even if he probably (definitely) should not. He believed that he could tell the captain things that he couldn’t tell anyone else, that the captain would protect him should the need arise. And this whipping was another reminder that Davy didn’t really merit that complete faith. He was in a position where all he knew of how to control his crew was violence, which bred a yet more violent and disruptive crew.

Maccus missed the days where he was the rough and tumble young lad who had to protect his skinny musician friend.

“Maccus, how are you?” Davy Jones asked, and Maccus could feel the captain’s eyes sweep the length of his body from head to toe, even though the first mate couldn’t see him, anxiously checking for injuries.

“Not well.” Maccus grunted as Ogilvey and Palifico withdrew from the room quietly and discreetly, exchanging odd, sort of hopeful looks.

The first mate started struggling to sit in his hammock, adjusting to the feeling of having his crustacean legs restricted and straightened out. He looked more like a sad porcupine than anything else at that moment.

“Let me help.” Davy Jones said quickly, shooting forward with surprising agility to take a hold of Maccus’ forearm and help steady him.

Maccus pulled his arm out of Davy’s grip once he was righted, and looked away at the far wall slightly next to the captain’s head to maintain an illusion of eye contact. He didn’t want to seem weak in front of his captain.

“Don’t bother yourself. You probably have plenty of duties to attend to given my tardiness this morning. My apologies.”

Even Maccus could tell that the stiffness in his voice and manner was hardly subtle. It was painfully evident that the first mate was upset with his captain.

“I do. And since you aren’t working right now I’ll have—“

“My mistake.” Maccus shoved his hands hard into the material of the hammock beside his hips in an attempt to lift himself to his feet. It was much too aggressive, massively overshooting the energy that would actually be required of such an action, and he only succeeded in nearly tipping himself backwards again. “I’ll get back to my duties, captain.”

“Maccus.” Davy Jones bit out, grabbing hold of the first mate’s arm in a vice-like grip. His voice was edged with desperation, and something darker, a darker something that lined his eyes with fire. “That is not what I was inferring. Let me finish.”

Maccus was still. For the first time, when he met the captain’s eyes Maccus’ too were tough as diamonds. Sharp, cutting, and bright. They searched out Davy’s with their own challenge.

A sort of electric pulse shot through the air between them then, and the little living barnacles on the backs of their arms lifted like hairs. For the first time in a long time, Maccus was not acting like Davy’s subordinate. They were finally back on an even playing field, one where neither of them could claim the sort of more professional distance that was ‘captain’ and ‘first mate’ on which they had separated themselves for decades.

“Finish then,” Maccus said lowly, allowing Davy Jones’ to tighten his tentacle’s grip on his arm. There were another few significant moments that passed before he added, “Captain.”

“I…” For a moment, the captain lost focus. Maccus had swum into vision, startling, crystal clear vision.

In front of him stood a loyal friend, a capable man, a strong and fierce pirate. And to him, at that moment, Davy Jones was just a man. He wasn’t the pirate captain he’d spent several bitter decades building himself up to be. It was like Maccus, before everyone, had torn down everything Jones had created in order to protect himself.

Maccus tilted his head to the side, watching the captain’s mystifying reaction to his blatant insubordination. A change had just descended upon Davy, and he was looking at Maccus in a completely different light.

He was looking at Maccus. Looking into his eyes.

Maccus suddenly felt very overwhelmed. He had the captain’s complete and unwavering attention, and it was like having the sun’s rays and all the stars pointed in your direction, so that you might bask in their ever warm gaze.

Was it getting hot in that room?

Davy was preparing to whip Maccus again, that had to be it. And no one could blame Maccus for thinking so when Davy was holding on to him in the manner that he was.

The tentacle on his hand wound tighter, and tighter, and tighter, grinding the bones of Maccus’ wrist eventually harder together until he was forced to let out a yell of pain.

“Fuck! Let me go!”

Something snapped in that room. A change so sudden and violent that it could be felt physically between the two, as if they had been slapped hard across the face.

Davy suddenly let go of Maccus’ arm and stepped back, blinking quickly as if he had had no awareness of what he had been doing in the slightest. He lifted his shaking hand and inspected it, as if expecting to find some kind of mark there as he quivered. Finding nothing, he lifted his eyes to Maccus, and looked away just as quickly.

“You’re dismissed.”

——

The rest of the day saw Maccus back to working, toiling under the hot sun, ignoring all the jibes and concerns thrown at the many splits on his back. His mind was occupied by too many other things to be concerned with the physical pain he may be feeling at that moment. Or rather, the entirety of his mind was focused on one thing. One person.

And yet, that person was nowhere to be found. Not that that was unusual for the captain these days.

Davy Jones used to be a much more diligent and attentive captain, renowned for his nautical skills and cunning, as well as the practised effectiveness of his own crew. They trained each other, exchanged knowledge and abilities, and in that way they were always being rendered stronger and more unified.

These days, not seeing him for several hours, or even an entire day, was commonplace. And he played music whenever the fancy took him. He had no need to be constantly vigilant, no one would dare attack the Dutchman, the ferry of the dead. Why would he even need to continuing training with his crew? They were the most dangerous things on the seas already, and nothing could threaten that.

Still, Maccus had expected to see him on deck. He had expected the captain to come speak to him personally after that morning’s strangeness. He didn’t know why, but he’d expected it. And now whenever someone called Maccus’ name or tapped his shoulder, he jumped to attention. It was never Davy.

The day was drawing to a close as Maccus inspected the ship, making sure everything was well put away, and everyone had executed their respective duties to an acceptable level. It didn’t take long for him to find a few spots where the crew had slacked off, but he let it slide, too tired to throw up a fuss. He was only glad that the sun was setting on this cursed anniversary of sorts, and that he would not have to face it again for another year yet.

The events of this day had certainly not helped his phobia of the date. He now had new anxieties to add to the hefty list he’d drawn up in his mind, but he was glad of the opportunity to wash his hands of it at least.

Maccus straightened up from a crouch holding the discarded severed head of a fish in one hand and not looking happy about it.

“Really, some people.” He sniffed, tossing it out to sea angrily and watching it arc through the air. Its eyes were wide and frozen, stuck stiffly in the same pose, glistening bright white where it caught the light of the setting sun on the sea before being swallowed up by the ocean waves.

“I guess our minds are becoming more animal-like too.” A voice behind him mused casually, and Maccus stepped back and stumbled in surprise and shock.

His foot caught and slipped on the fish’s dismembered tail, and Maccus felt his body careening backwards, his arms flailing out uselessly around him like a baby bird pushed too early out of its nest.

The first mate felt someone catch him in their arms, and he knew exactly who it must be. Fate couldn’t resist getting in one more moment of torture on this day before the sun finally set again.

Davy Jones looked down at him with a concerned expression, lips pressed together and twisted, the muscle of his eyebrow arched high above one of his pale blue eyes.

“Maccus?”

“Yes, cap’n!” Maccus replied quickly, desperately removing himself from the captain’s muscular grip. “I’m fine!”

“Oh, well….that’s good, then.” Davy said awkwardly, allowing Maccus to extricate himself from the situation with no protest. He didn’t want to cause a scene. Especially given the private nature of what the captain had come to see Maccus about.

“About what happened earlier I…that was clumsy of me. I want you to rest. I don’t want…” Davy Jones looked around, at a loss for words, and finally managed to wave a hand around in the general vicinity of his first mate. “—-this. You getting hurt. I never want that.”

Maccus was unsure what to do with the rising, unidentifiable tension in the air. It was the kind he had longed for all his life in a safer environment like the Dutchman. The kind he would have sold a left foot for if only to experience for a moment. The kind of feeling of expectation people like him only got a glimpse of in fairy tales.

“No, I know. If your crew — especially your first mate — gets hurt it slows down the ship’s processes.”

Davy Jones shook his head, and he took a step closer. Maccus’ heart was beating very fast. He didn’t know what was going on, but something very essential had changed between them. Something Maccus had always wished for, and yet he had no idea how to process the ways it was fundamentally changing their relationship.

“No. I mean. When you get hurt, I feel…different. Mournful. Sad. Like if my heart was still here.” Davy lifted his claw and brought it to his chest, jabbing at the place where a heart would usually be located, if you weren’t a cursed octopus creature.

“I don’t understand.” Maccus said, his voice hushed, quiet, searching for some familiarity he could cling to.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to…what’s the opposite of hurting someone?” The captain was frozen on the spot now, gazing at Maccus, tentacles flicking slowly, wavering around like they were being ruffled in a gentle breeze. He was struggling to find his words. It was unlike him.

“Well, uhm…I suppose the opposite of hurting someone would be,” Maccus searched his mind, grateful for the temporary distraction to gather his thoughts. Since when was he the wordy one? Well, he supposed that at least hadn’t changed, because he couldn’t quite find an answer either. “Making them happy.”

Davy continued gazing at Maccus, and the first mate felt thrown. Was that not the right answer? He didn’t know how to think when it seemed like they were meeting for the first time all over again. Like they had found something in each other that had never been there before.

Finally, the captain did speak, easing the silence between them.

“You’re my most loyal crewmember. You keep the ship running, you’re highly skilled, you’ve never disappointed me. I hope you’ll be gracious enough to accept my returning the favour.” Davy said, taking a deep breath before he added. “Of my own loyalty, that is.”

“For the betterment of the crew, of course.” Maccus said, although the sentiment was weak, and they both felt it.

“Oh, of course. Of course.” Davy Jones nodded, although the first mate could see the hint of a nervous smile appear that was beginning to match his own. “It would simply be the most practical thing for the crew to see a unified captain and first mate.”

Maccus and Davy Jones looked at each other, and the lap of water against the ship seemed deafening. What they had both said seemed perfectly true, but the reader would be excused for thinking that perhaps something lay deeper than practical reasoning.

The captain had a small box in his hands. It was simple and rough, and cautiously, he extended it out for Maccus to take.

Equally cautiously, Maccus accepted it. He didn’t know what was going on, or what this really meant, but Davy was trying to give him something, and he would always follow orders.

Inside, there was a small gold ring threaded onto a heavy leather cord. It was inlaid with a pinkish-whitish stone, and far finer than anything Maccus had owned before.

“Is this..?” Maccus asked, suddenly feeling a little panicked at the sight of the ring.

“Oh, no!” The captain blurted out quickly, gesturing his claw and tentacle hand quickly to emphasise his point. “Not at all.”

Davy stepped closer, carefully lifting the ring up on its cord with his crab claw. His gaze was exceedingly gentle, reminding Maccus of his old self. The compassionate, intelligent, artistic sailor who only wanted to live free on the seas in a romantic, novel worthy adventure that would never have been possible.

“I used to wear this, as well as a number of other pieces of jewellery. It was given to me as a child.” The captain’s eyes were focused on the ring, a sort of wistful, longing expression. But then he raised his eyes to Maccus, and he smiled slightly. “The stone is rose quartz. It represents acceptance and love.”

Maccus felt his throat seize up, and his heart stopped beating for a sole moment. Suddenly, he remembered what Davy had said to him that morning;

‘For actual crimes’.

He knew how difficult this day was for his first mate, what the scars, the jokes, the bruises meant for Maccus. That this day was about more than just the fact that Maccus had nearly died. That it represented his struggle, and the struggle of everyone like them.

And he’d done it on a day that had been immortalised to Maccus as a constant reminder that he would never be able to have what others could on a whim.

Maccus couldn’t understand, this all seemed to be a blatant refusal of facts he had known to be true his entire life.

Davy was given this ring when he was young and still had family and friends and a life. It was important to him. It was a part of him. And he was giving it to Maccus. He wanted Maccus to have it, a stone symbolizing…

“I thought you needed new memories.” Davy watched Maccus’ stunned reaction, resisting the urge to smile, or to lay a hand on his first mate’s shoulder.

If he couldn’t have his luxuries anymore, he wanted Maccus to. And the idea that his friend would have something of his, that it might mean so much to him, it only made Davy Jones that much more attached to the ring. Maccus, by having this, could share it with his captain. It was something Davy had worn all his life, given to him as a family heirloom in his home in Scotland, and now it was Maccus’. He wanted Maccus to know that he was important enough for that.

“Happy St. Valentine’s Day, Maccus.” Davy Jones said quietly, turning to leave after several moments of silence had elapsed.

“Wait, Valentine’s? I-…that’s not…” Maccus began, but he trailed off as the captain met his gaze steadily again, his pale blue eyes glittering slightly with mischief.

Maccus had never had a Valentine’s Day. It felt strange in a way. This day was never meant to be that for him. The people who had hung him that day, they had meant it as a statement; ‘This doesn’t belong to you.’

Now the first mate found that perhaps it did.

“Happy Valentines, Cap’n.” Maccus replied, lifting up the necklace and clasping it around his neck, for his head was much too wide for it to fit over.

The captain was headed down the stairs, probably to his rooms to sleep. He turned his head over one shoulder and said, smirking. “It’s only practical, of course. It does make the most sense, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, it does make a lot of sense. Loyal captain and his loyal first mate. Been around each other too long, I’d say.”

Davy’s laugh echoed around the ship, welcoming the sun to set, and finally putting the day to a close. Maccus, who had been wishing for this very thing only moments before, was now loath to see the stars take their places in the night sky.

#submission #maccus #fanfiction #potc #davy jones #pirates of the caribbean #the flying dutchman #round 5

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