#that food is 3 gold fish a can

[the-ultimate-tournament]

HE IS BACK!!! HE ATE ALL MY FOOD AGIAN!

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (1)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final]: 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tagin following parts

[AN]: thank you so much to @highvern for betaing for me and helping out with the plot so much, this fic would not exist if it weren't for her!!!! and thank you reader!!! for clicking on this and reading it, this one's been about 7 months in the works and I would love to hear what your thoughts are when you're done, plsplspls leave a rb or a reply with your brainrot lol <3 happy reading

HOSHI’S BOOT IS STUCK in the ground. 

No, that’s a branch. 

Or is it a plank? 

He doesn’t try to find out as he yanks his foot out of whatever stopped him from moving. A tree root, he finds as he kicks the remnants of jungle rubbish from the surface of the shrouded root. He kicks it to satisfy himself. 

His crew resides on the beach; where he can see them attempt to build a fire before sundown, the mound of discombobulated twigs making up most of the sad pile of wood. Hoshi trudges up to it and drops another handful of puny branches into the mix. 

Exhaling loudly as Mingyu calls for him, he falls to his bottom and sits cross legged on the sand. Mingyu trudges up next to him to inspect his pile, sighing when he realised this was all he had to work with. He picks up two hefty looking stones and begins to strike them together, putting his faith in the primitive fire. 

Hoshi stares into the horizon, watching the died down waves drift onto the shore, moving closer by the minute. 

Hoshi thinks, which he can’t say is something that he does very often. Perhaps that’s why he was sat on this nature-overrun island as a shipless captain of his shipless crew. He chews on his tongue as he thinks of his Tigress, his beloved hunk of wood and metal; the beloved hunk of wood and metal that he could not see on the shoreline, because she was taken by the royal navy. 

He wonders if Tigress would ever forgive him for letting that happen to her, for letting those clean, soft handed soldiers rip her away from his grasp. 

Hoshi needs to start thinking more often.

Mingyu is frantic over the small flame that erupts in the middle of his leaves, dropping his rocks to blow into the fire, encouraging it to grow. 

“Captain, it’s done! We can rustle up those fish we caught, have supper sorted.” 

“Hm.”

The bustle of the entire crew lasts until night has fallen and they’ve gotten food in their stomachs. Hoshi hasn’t moved from his spot for hours, something the others noticed very quickly, but decided not to mention for fear of waking something dangerous. They understood he was suffering from a broken heart. 

It isn’t until the first of the crew had begun to doze off that Hoshi speaks. Chan is propped up against a tree while Seungkwan laughs at the dangerously low coconut that hangs above his head. Mingyu readjusts his trousers after a full meal. Minghao stretches onto the sand, feet facing the water. 

His voice isn’t loud, nor is it commanding, nor does it have his usual edge of jest—in fact, it sounds nothing like Hoshi at all. 

Or does it?

“Who wants to steal a ship?”

YOU'RE AWOKEN BY THE sound of yelling. Which is never a good sign in any case, but especially not when it’s pitch black outside and you’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

The grogginess is quick to fade as you try to understand what’s going on outside your quarters. Your room isn’t a mess, all the trinkets and royal seals remaining in their places on the walls and shelves. Nor is the ship lurching or moving in odd angles to indicate an unexpected spat from the skies. A quick peek outside the window shows you clear, calm water amidst the mostly dark expanse of ocean. 

There is only one other answer in your head that would cause this much commotion—especially on a boat where the admiral resides (and a princess). 

Slipping out of the covers, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors of your quarters, a small shiver going through your spine from the cold, with nothing to cover you but your thin nightgown. You’re in the middle of tying your robe to see what the ruckus was about outside when a particularly loud thud hits outside of your door. You immediately freeze. 

Staring at the doorknob, you attempt to move backwards in the space, heart beating faster as you watch the knob move slightly. The back of your knees hit the bedside table with a thud, the sound has you gasp out loud. Whoever it was outside your door jiggles the knob harder, the force exerted having you scan the room for something you could use as a weapon. 

Spotting the letter opener on your desk, you lurch across the room to grab it, holding it in front of you as you back away from the door. The knob continues to bang against the wood as you refuse to take eyes off of it. There’s sounds of men outside, loud and rambunctious, momentarily halting the grievances. 

Until the knob moves again, slower this time, a light click that could be heard as it unlocks itself, opening into the low light of your quarters. 

You recognise the frazzled looking soldier at your door. 

“Lieutenant,” you voice in recognition. “What’s going on?”

He eyes the letter opener that you hold defiantly in front of you from across the room, and it has you retracting your force slightly. 

“Pirates, your Highness,” he breathes out. “We must get you to lower deck—”

“Where is the Admiral? The Captain?” you ask as you take a couple steps forward. 

“They’re handling the situation, your High–” 

An arm has come up behind the soldier that pulls him into a headlock, a swift pull to have him dragged away from your vision. You would’ve gasped if your voice hadn’t been caught in your throat, refusing to make itself known as fear brews in the pit of your stomach. Your hold on your makeshift weapon is tighter than ever before, yet you doubt how it’s going to help you as the culprit finally steps over something to appear in your doorframe. 

His clothes are in a disarray; slashed, torn and covered in grime. There’s a deadly looking machete in one hand, the blood that coats it has you eyeing the trail that drips onto his hand and on the floor. His forearms are perched up on the doorframe as he inspects you, tongue to cheek as he stares. 

Threatened as you feel, there was less hunger in his gaze as you had expected, more like he was trying to figure out who you were. He eyes your tiny letter opener you hold like a knife and lets out a little exhale you think might be a laugh. It has you gripping the handle impossibly tighter. The man moves his face into the hallway, to where you know the staircase to the main deck is. 

“Hoshi!” he yells loudly. “How’s this for bait?” 

Your back is pressed inexplicably against the wall, wanting to sink into the wooden boards as you attempt to gain your bearings amongst the nauseous bouts of mortification that surge through you. Your only exit is blocked.

No. You have one more option. 

The sound of more men bounding down the hall has you praying there were more soldiers here, but the calm regard the man has for the approaching people has your heart sink to the depths of this very ocean itself. 

More faces peer into the room, men with the same haphazard, grimey clothing complete with  equally sinister weapons in their grasps. One of the men breaks out into the biggest grin as he lays his eyes on you. You nearly throw up. 

For the first time in your life, you wish you’d listened to your father. 

“Jun, you savvy motherfucker,” the grinning man explodes, slapping the man who found you on the back. 

Another voice speaks from behind him, “Ships cleared, captain.” 

“Perfect. Bring a spring upon ‘er. Get as far away from those cleans as you can, let them fend for themselves in a tiny boat for once.” 

Captain. The grinning, stupid looking one is their captain. 

He regards the rest of his crew as he finally steps through the threshold, waving them away as he enters your quarters.

It was taking everything out of you to not buckle your knees as you stood, every step he takes is turning your strength into dust. He keeps his eyes on you, eyes on your sorry excuse of a weapon. He registers the mix of fear and determination in your eyes. 

He stops a few feet away from you, looking directly at you past the makeshift knife you hold. 

He says nothing as he drops the knife in his own hand to the ground with a loud clang. He removes a pistol, a couple more knives, a grenade and a sword. Weapons drop to the floor one after the other, emerging from all over his body and clothes. All in a pile on the wooden floors. He puts his hands in the air.

“No weapons on me. I merely wish to talk.” 

The look on his face is not ordinary, some strange combination of mock innocence and jest. You don’t answer him.

He continues, “You can keep your… scalpel… if you so wish.” 

“What did you do to the soldiers?” you finally rasp out.

“They’re not dead, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yet?” you ask with a slight tremble to your voice. 

“They’ve been shoved into a boat with a map and a compass to fend for themselves. I’m not entirely ruthless,” he adds with raised brows and a hint of a smile. “Admiral, were they calling him? You must be his wife.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, guess not. Daughter? Captain’s wife, Captain’s daughter?”

Your previously stagnant brain is now running a derby with all the thoughts galloping across your mind. He doesn’t know who you are. Yet, anyway.

He’s scanning the room now, nodding at the trinkets and trophies scattered across the place. “Can’t imagine giving a lieutenant’s anybody quarters like this.” He circles back on you, eyes sharp. “Who are you, darling?”

You don’t think you have anything that should give you away, but the way he starts pacing the room has your anxiety going through the wooden roof.

He has his back turned to you. You’re not sure if he’s confident or careless considering you could drive your weapon into his back and make a run for it. But then what? By the looks of it there’s an entire crew of pirates pacing the deck. Perhaps the soldiers haven’t gotten that far; they know you’re still on board, they know it’s their heads on a pike if they leave you here. 

He’s reached your desk during your thinking, inspecting your stationary, picking at the bejewelled quills and paper weights as he mutters nonsense to himself. 

“Oh!” he announces, a little too enthusiastic. “What’s this?” 

He brandishes the loose leaf of paper, and you recognise the print on the back immediately. It was a letter from your father, the King.

“How on Earth did you read this, the writing is illegible.” He flips the paper over, double taking when he sees the royal seal on the back. He looks into the letter closer now. 

You wait with baited breath. 

“The kingdom needs their princess…your father…ah.” 

Should you plunge the knife into him anyway? You almost do it, but stop when he begins to turn around to face you again. His eyebrows are raised, a slight hint of exasperation on his face when he begins to laugh a loud, loud cackle. 

It’s mortifying, especially when you don’t understand what on earth was so funny to elicit a reaction like that. The man is downright hysterical. He wipes a lone tear from the corner of his eye as he drops the letter back onto the desk.

“W-what’s so funny?” you try to sound brave.

“It seems, miss princess, that we’ve gotten more than we bargained for,” he says, looking straight at you as he sobers up. “You’re the King’s daughter, now, are you? What are the odds the first ship I hop onto with a royal seal slapped on it, held the crown jewel of the kingdom in its gallows.” 

And then he starts walking, towards you, for that matter. Imperative because you know for sure that this is how it all ends. 

You know you still have your one last option, the option that is now pressed against your back as you shimmy to it with miniscule movements. The window is cool on your hand that rests on the glass, you know the lamp will be enough to break it, enough for you to push through and fall into the abyss of the dark, dark sea. He knows who you are now, and you’d rather drown than die at the hands of a pirate—or go through whatever it was that’s curling the minds of all the men on this ship. 

He takes another step forward, hands on his hips. “He’s not going to like this, is he? His dear daughter in the hands of the Kingdom’s favourite degenerate captain.” 

What?

He then adds in a whisper to himself mostly, “Or least favourite with all the wanted posters off the churches and brothels.” 

Hoshi. Hoshi. Hoshi. 

The man who had found you had called him Hoshi. Hoshi the pirate. Hoshi the pirate that’s been giving the Kingdom and its court absolute hell for as long as you can remember. 

The man that you are now trapped alone with on a ship is the most feared pirate the Kingdom has ever seen. 

You don’t doubt your face has gone grey, feeling your breathing turn near erratic. “Oh God.”

He smiles wryly as the life is sucked out of your very soul. 

This was bad. Very bad.

“Now, fear not, you will soon be returned to daddy dearest,” he places a mildly dramatic hand over his heart. “Pirate’s honour.”

He paces back to pluck the letter off the table, pocketing it. “All you need to do is relax and tell me a few things so we can part ways as soon—”

“No.” The word blurts out of your mouth before you can stop it, horrified at the thought of giving information to any pirate, let alone this one. 

“No?” Hoshi looks genuinely shocked, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. He laughs a little incredulously, “Oh, I see, can’t tell all the delicate details to a scary ol’ pirate.”

He smiles a little bit, “Worry not, miss princess, we shall only need a few minor details. Just enough to have your father sprinting to get you out of here. We all win.”

He stares at you almost expectantly, and you wonder if you look as confused as you feel. 

“Well, I’ll be bidding you goodnight now, I’m sure we’ve interrupted your beauty sleep enough. Rest assured we won’t be bothering you for the rest of the morning.”

Hoshi begins to make his way to the door, picking up his pile of weapons off the floor before wrenching the door open. He’s calm as ever, but your mind is in a disarray.

A ransom, but whatever for? Gold could’ve been retrieved by raiding any ship, and it sounded like he’d chosen to hop on a ship belonging to the navy. Come to think of it, as much of a nuisance this man has proved himself, you don’t remember a case where he’s directly meddled with the Kingdom. All of this can’t just be for gold. 

Steeling yourself, you bet your odds against your voice and asked him, “What do you want from my father?” 

You watch as he halts in his tracks, halfway through the door as he finally looks over his shoulder. The look on his face has you wanting to break open the window immediately and let the water flood in, once and for all as you take these bastards down with you. 

“Your father has something of mine. And I intend to take it back,” he says, before finally slamming the door shut. You hear a shuffle and a thud, and you do not doubt that he’s locked you in. 

Your knees give out almost immediately, dropping to the ground as you breathe in quick, shallow breaths. Trying to look past the dizziness, you try not to think about the last thing he’d said before he left, moreso the look on his face as he did. 

The first rays of morning sun are beginning to shine through the windows, casting the beginnings of a glow in your quarters. You think of the supposed assurance he had given you, that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they intended to return you. 

The thought leads to a faraway memory, yet one that’s tucked itself into a front corner of your mind, you can almost hear your father's voice as he says it; never trust a pirate.

You remain on the floor, and you remain wide awake. 

THE SUN IS HIGH in the sky by the time you put your limbs to work. 

The first hours after the pirate locked you in your quarters were spent trying to reign yourself to earth. You can’t be entirely sure your soul has come back to your body, but whatever little of it that has landed is whispering some very dangerous things. 

The lamp remains, the ornate jewels glinting almost enticingly in the afternoon light. The flame inside it has long died, but you itch to give it another purpose. You don’t note the trembling of your hand as you reach for it, pushing yourself to your feet as you get a feel for the heavy hunk of glass and metal in your hands. 

If there was a level of regard before, it disappears when you set eyes on the bright window and the creases of crystal blue water. With all your strength, you don’t think twice when the lamp makes hard contact, a loud thud erupting as a result, but no damage when you pull away. 

You go again, harder this time, and only vaguely register the glass of the lamp that shatters into your hands. Gripping the metal bit tighter, you swing for the third time, pulling back for the strongest blow yet. 

A hand wraps around your elbow and you’re yanked backwards, landing on the floor. There’s a kick at your hand that’s flown into the air, the one that holds the bludgeoned lamp. It goes flying across the room as you retract your hand into yourself. 

You don’t register a thing as you’re suddenly being pulled back up to your feet. Face to face with the pirate captain, your soul finally clicking back into place. 

“Didn’t think I scared you this bad.” He’s made a joke, but all you can see is his face that’s a mask of rage.

The initial instinct is to move away, pulling your elbow out of his grasp in an attempt to flee. You fail as he tightens his grip to a painful degree, hauling you towards the ajar door of the quarters. 

It’s only then that you realise that there’s more people in the room.You note another big, burly man next to the window you just assaulted, inspecting it with another shorter man. You don’t get to note more as you’re pulled into the narrow hallway, begging the saints he doesn’t take the turn towards the lower decks. Instead you find he leads you upstairs to where the main deck is. 

Walk the plank? Did navy ships have planks to walk on? Not that you’d mind too much, you were trying to drown yourself and this ship in any case. But then there’s a settle of dread in the pit of your stomach, realising death may be the most merciful thing this man could give you. 

The pirate captain pushes you against a mast, one of his other minions rushing in with coils of rope on his shoulder. The sun beats down on the deck, not a gust of reprieve from the wind. 

“Keep the ropes tight, she’s got less wit than I’d thought,” the pirate captain says with a grunt, huffing as he lets go of you. He takes a few steps away, hands at his hips, the image of vexation. 

The person who ties the cords around your hands whispers slowly, “Stop moving.”

But you can’t, not when the panic is near the lip, not when all the possibilities are flashing gore filled images into your vision. It's scary to blink. 

“Why won’t you let me die?” you ask to the back that’s turned.

He turns around, not even bothering hiding the exasperation that paints his face, mouth opening furiously before closing again. “Why won’t—Because you were trying to take us all with you!”

“Kill me!” you all but scream. “They won’t know till you’ve gotten what you want, I’d rather be dead than let you try whatever’s brewing in all your sick heads!” 

He’s silent for a moment, noting your defiant gaze, your pull against the ropes, the heaving of your chest. Taking a few steps forward, Hoshi seems to be attempting to bring the boil in his blood to a low simmer, “Listen, princess. We’re pirates alright, but me and my crew, we keep to ourselves. If your daddy the king hadn’t decided to meddle and steal my fucking ship, you would’ve been home in your pretty palace, asleep in your bed of gold by now.” 

The pirate captain’s face is closer than you’d ever be comfortable with, seething in a way that has you pressing further into the mast. “We may be degenerates but we keep our own morals, as twisted as your people heed them to be.” 

When he finally pulls away, you take a breath and thank the air that simply exists, eyes downcast as you attempt to look braver than you feel. 

“I’m not pushing you overboard. I’ve duped your people once, they’ll be more prepared next time. We need you alive while you’re in our hands.” 

“How are you going to summon a ransom? You sent away your only messengers,” you ask, a sad attempt at a mock, but also because you wanted to know what his plan was. 

“Your useless Admiral’s taken up that job.”

“By lifeboat? You’ve left them all for dead, how do you expect this genius plan to work?” 

“They could’ve swam to shore if it came to it, we were close enough.”

“How are you so sure?” you spit.

“Do I need to gag you too?” he gives you one last irritated look before stalking off towards the lower deck. You’re left alone in the cooling afternoon heat, the sound of the sea keeping your ears company along with your own slowing breaths. 

Everything he said has a good enough chance to be a complete and utter lie. Never trust a pirate. No weapon to cut yourself out of your impossibly tight binds, nothing to protect you or give you reassurance besides a pirate’s word—the worst pirate’s word. 

Your battered thinking leads you straight through the setting of the sun, the orange glow of the sky shrouding the ship in the dreamiest backdrop while you live what you can only sum as a nightmare. Perhaps not, for you doubt your mind could ever conjure up a terror like this. 

This was life, the most terrifying nightmare of all. 

Having managed to wiggle your tied hands downwards, you had seated yourself with your head against the wood of the mast, staring into the translucent skies. So much freedom that taunts you in its illusion of proximity, yet so far still. 

There’s murmurs below deck, the only semblance of life you’ve heard in the past few hours after the stupid pirate captain stormed off. It seems to be on the stairs, a heated argument. 

“Obviously this wasn’t part of the plan, the chances were supposed to be zero to absolutely none. We landed with that scumbag’s successor, that’s just our piss luck and nothing more.” 

“You wanted a woman for bait, this should work the same.”

“Hao, I wanted a woman for bait to trigger a lukewarm reaction, this princess could either doom us all or make our job a fat punch easier, and I’m not betting on the latter.”

There’s a pause. 

“If only she’d cut it with the random hysterics and creepy-staring-at-the-sky we could actually get something useful out of her.” 

“Pray that window holds up or any chance of a miracle is gone to the wind.”

It’s like you’ve woken up with the way the stupid idea begins to form in your head. You think of your father, the kind of man he is, the kind of ruler he is. All the ‘if’s are guiding you to a conclusion. One that gives you a fighting chance, one that may go beyond this massive navy ship and clear into the rest of your life—if you make it that far anyway. 

Your father and his men would come, give this unhinged pirate what he desires so dearly, you know that for sure. But you also know it wouldn’t be for you, but for the crown that’s destined to fall upon your cursed head. 

If it’s his ship that he wants…

The next time you see one of the pirate captain’s goons on the deck, you ask for an audience. 

“DID YOUR STUPID FATHER drop you on your head as a baby?” 

Hoshi stands before you under the light of the midnight moon, an incredulous expression on his face. You try to keep the scowl off your own but it proves difficult when his voice pierces your skull. 

You ignore him from your position on the floor, “I know my father, and I know he loathes you enough to finally want you and your incompetent crew gone for good.”

He scratches his chin, “Can’t be that incompetent if he hates us so much.”

“I can help you.”

“You were ready to die than to be on the same ship as us a few hours ago. What’s changed?”

“Perspective,” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant. 

“Are you gonna go back to wailing in the morning then?” 

God, this was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“You want your ship back and you were hoping for someone less important to exchange it for. But you’re stuck with me and you know it’s not going to end well for you. You need my help.” 

“Why so merciful, miss princess? Are you not on your father’s side?” 

You gulp as discreetly as possible.

“I want something in exchange.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue. 

“I want you to kill my father.”

If his eyebrows were raised before, they’ve broken for the skies now. He leans his head back, eyes closing for a moment before reopening, reigning back to you before asking very gracefully, “What?” 

“I want you to kill my father.”

“No, I got that bit,” he snaps. “Your father as in, the King?”

“Yes, as you’ve pointed out far more times than anyone ever has.” You can’t help but roll your eyes despite the weight of the situation and the hammering in your chest. 

He stares at you in an expression you can’t quite read, and it unsettles you deeply. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve gravely miscalculated, watching as he moves around the mast you’re tied to. Out of the corner of your eye you see the metal glint of a dagger, and you nearly short circuit. 

Is he about to cut your hands off?

You feel a distinct tug at your wrists, the sound of slicing, and the voice in your head asking why it didn’t hurt. 

Suddenly your hands are free, intact and free as you achingly bring them in front of you, wincing audibly at the pain of moving them after so long. 

“You can jump into the water if you’d like, I won’t stop you.” He walks back over, sitting cross legged opposite you, at eye level. 

“What?”

“You’ve clearly gone mad, I’ll find another way to get my ship back.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Of course, and I utterly enjoy having a kingdom’s worth of blood on my hands. Shall I take the entirety of the court down while we’re at it? Carry out a fucking waltz with Jack Ketch?”

“Why are you acting like you’re above murder? Another part of your strange moral code?” 

“No, no, not above it at all. But I like my head and rather not have it guillotined. They might skim over the death of some too-nosy soldier but I doubt they’d leave me be after I put a bullet between the King’s eyes.”

“I’ll protect you.”

He looks at you for a moment, “Quite reassuring.” 

You sit up straighter, licking your lips as you prepare yourself. “My father isn’t a good man.”

The pirate captain snorts, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

You try not to stare too hard at the still unsheathed dagger that he digs into the floorboards, knifing out splinters in disregard. 

“My father doesn’t want me home, he wants the crown home. He wants me to be a carbon copy of himself, he wants to be in control long after he’s gone.” You try not to grind your teeth too hard but it’s difficult when your father’s face burns behind your eyelids. “I want control over the throne, full control.”

“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

“Then what? You’ll pardon me and my crew after we get our hands dirty for you?” he asks, eyes wide in mock hope. 

“Yes. You can do whatever it is that you sail about doing and no one will be of bother. I might ask you for sparing favours. For a wage of course. But other than that, you can live as lawlessly as you wish.”

“You’re asking me to become your personal lackey?”

“Having a queen’s favour is no small feat I hope you’re aware. Besides, it's a leap better than the hoops you’ve been jumping through during my father’s reign.” 

You realised his face had been shrouded by the dark between your negotiating and the clouds that had veiled the moon. Every moment that was supposed to strengthen your understanding of the man that sat across from you only brought you more confusion. 

“You want your ship and freedom of land and sea,” you continue when it’s silent for a beat too long. “I only ask for a small favour in return.”

“I’d argue the miniscule nature of what you’re asking from me,” he scoffs.

“Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line.” 

There crawls in the silence once again, the same one that seems to grab you by the throat for every moment that ticks past undisturbed. 

“We’ll have to see to that,” he says, huffing as he gets back on his boot clad feet. You follow him with your eyes as he walks towards the creaky stairs that lead to the lower deck, utterly confused. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, bewildered at his strange behaviour. 

Turning around, just as he had a mere day ago in your quarters and you feel yourself suppressing a shudder. “I have a crew to consult.”

So he was considering it. 

“But you’re the captain.”

“And?” 

THE SKY IS A lighter sheen of blue, leaning towards the premature hours of the morning. He’d left you untied, and as you gaze into the duned waters in the minimal light, the urge to jump in and create a ripple that goes beyond just the water is less tempting than you’d thought. The prospect of having a dead father, and a dead king, was enough to snap you out of your hysteria despite it being a plot of your own devising. 

You’ve been alone for a while, little indication that there was other life on this ship at all with the lack of human activity. There wasn’t much that you knew of sailing or ship handling, but leaving the deck unmanned for this long gave you the vague impression that you were on a vessel with poor practising pirates. If they’d thought you’d be equipped to handle any hiccups, they’d either find out the hard way, or whenever it was that you could find the wit to bring it up to the pirate captain and his strangely attached crew. 

Something that sounds distinctly like boots are thudding gradually up to the main deck, the unmistakable blond of the pirate captain himself coming into view. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but the low thuds are sending your heart racing, panic overcoming your senses for a brief moment before you recalibrate. It’s only then that you realise it’s been more than 24 hours since the ship was hijacked. Somehow, you could have believed it was a lifetime. 

He’s disturbingly nonchalant, hand at the sheathed hilt of the dagger at his hip, a casual glance around at the empty abyss of ocean and sky. When he reaches the far end of the deck, right above the prow, he stops. 

“Are you going to push me off the rails?” you ask, half genuine, half trying to fill the silence as you face one another. 

“No.” He said it plainly, the single word reply leaving you even more uncomfortable. 

“Have you thought about what I said…with your crew?” you ask, hand coming up to grab the railing for support. 

“I did.” 

“Do I sense an objection?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat

“Not exactly,” he says. “We want to hear your master plan for this heist before we agree to anything.” 

He’s asking for a plan, a plan that you do not have.

You aren’t sure how he figured it out, perhaps it was the slight darting of your eyes as you thought of a response, but he seemed to read you like a book. He snorts loudly, “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“You’ve done this before, you’d know better.”

“And if I led you astray?”

You look at him, this time right into his dark eyes, “Then you lead me astray.” 

“Your contentment with death is wildly unsettling.” There’s a ghost of a sneer at his lip. 

“I’d rather be lounging in the bottom of the ocean than live with a prospective future with my father.” 

“So I’ve heard.”

There’s a huff that leaves you as you steel your voice. “I’m not trying to set you up if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I doubt you’d have that capability,” he says as he leans his forearms over the railing. You briefly consider pushing him over but think better of it. 

As much as you wanted to be a sneaky link, you simply didn’t have that trait. You blame all the dependency your father’s fostered into you, ensuring that you couldn’t rule without his influence. 

“Are you willing to brew a plan or not? I need to time my dip in the ocean accordingly,” you say, sounding almost disgruntled.

He lets out a big sigh, “Follow me.”

He’s made himself familiar with the ship, you soon realise, as he leads you right downstairs to the lower deck towards the war room. When he opens the door, the room is lit with lamps, casting a golden glow on the reddish interior, warmer than the rest of the ship. 

“Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid,” he tells you as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the cabin. 

You only exhale in response as you turn away from the door, towards the large table in the centre. It’s slightly cluttered, studying the scrawled notes as you realise they’re all from the Admiral, his directions and plans of course littered across the table. Turning towards the map on the walls, you lift a finger to trace the lifted ridges of snow capped mountains, trailing towards the dipped shallows of the blue water. 

It was an exact replica of the tactile map in the war room back home, and you’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia. Not that you’d been away from home for too long, but the end result of what you're about to do, regardless of the outcome, would change your life forever. 

You feel yourself breathing in the lingering scent of mildew, a strange comfort in the warm quarters.

There’s a creak at the door, and you quickly retract to find the pirate captain back at the door, walking in with a trail of men behind him. You recognise them by their faces, watching as they all take their places in the edges of the room. They look relaxed. You note the pirate captain taking his place behind the main drawing table. 

“Your throne, miss princess.” He gestures exaggeratedly towards the lone cushioned chair across from him. You’re hyper aware of all the eyes that are trailed on you, and you feel almost embarrassed to take the only seat. 

It only lasts for a moment. You walk up to the chair with what you hope exuded confidence and take your place across from the pirate captain. His men circle the edge of the room, and you count five other men. 

He sighs, “I think introductions are in order.”

“Mingyu, Minghao,” he points to the two men that had inspected your window right after you tried breaking it open. 

“Jun,” he gestures to the one who had found you in your quarters the night it all went wrong. 

“Seungkwan and Chan,” you recognize the latter as the one who’d tied you to the mast at his captain’s command. 

“They’ll be helping kill your dear father.” 

It’s silent for a moment as you attempt to moisten your mouth. You’re reminded you haven’t eaten or drank for hours, not since one of them had come up with a tray of whatever they could find for you from the reserves. 

“I know I may not be the most admissible person to trust, or vice versa—” You hear someone snort but choose to ignore it. “But I’m willing to make myself useful to you if it means you would help me too.”

“Would it not be easier to lock him up instead?” someone asks, and you turn to find Seungkwan asking the question from next to the tactile map. 

“He has too many people indebted to him, too many that are too loyal for their own good. I cannot truly rule for as long as he’s alive and well.”

“And how do you expect his loyal court mongers to let you bid favour to the people who killed their king?” the pirate captain asks with a raised brow. 

“Which is why it needs to look like an accident.” 

“How do you reckon we go about that?”

“What message have you given the Admiral?”

“You don’t answer a question with another question—”

“We need to be transparent with each other if either of us wants to make it out relatively unscathed.”

He doesn’t look too happy but he answers anyway, “My ship and five hundred thousand for all our trouble. Two months from now at the Green Islands up north.”

The Green Islands were anything but green, the glaciers being near uninhabitable owed to the ruthless weather. It was smart enough, it’d be near impossible to bring as much violent power that far north, no matter how influential anyone is.  

“Is five hundred thousand all I’m worth?” you feel the beginnings of a sneer rise up your mouth. You aren’t sure what prompted it but you don’t want to fight it either. 

“Didn’t know I was bartering for a fucking princess’ case, did I?” he snaps. “Now tell us how you want us to commit the undetected homicide of a King.”

“We need to blow up his ship.” To your surprise (and maybe even a little horror), the pirate captain breaks into a slight grin. Neither do you miss other bits of his crew releasing a bit of a snicker. 

There’s a flare of defiance within you, “Do you have any better ideas then?” 

“No, no. Go on,” he says with his head hung. You’re surprised he has the character to shield his smile. 

“He doesn’t frequent the seas but I’m almost sure he’d be present at the exchange.”

“Almost?” he questions.

You hesitate. The combined chance of needing the crown home and seeing to the downfall of his enemies would be enough warmth to send him to the greenlands himself. You were confident, but your father could also be unpredictable.

“He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.” 

The pirate captain lifts his head, locking eyes with you. You try not to look as weak as you felt, as unsure as you felt, pooling all the remaining confidence into your face. 

He swallows before looking away, addressing one of the crew members. “How big are we talking?”

Jun looks up like he’s only just begun to pay attention, fumbling over the revolver in his hands as it thuds to the ground like a theatrical mistake, “What?”

His captain sighs before replying, “Explosion. How big does it need to be to blow up a naval ship with a King on it?”

The man brings a hand up to the back of his head, scratching his nape. “If it’s anything like this one, we’re gonna need a lot of ammo.” 

“Just enough to sink it,” you speak before you could decide not to. “Even better if they don’t realise it’s happening.”

He thinks for a moment. “We could plant it in the bilge somehow.”

“But how do we get on that ship? When they’re giving us a tour of the lower decks?” The man you recall as Seungkwan scoffs. 

“Throw a grenade on board somehow?” you hear one of them suggest. 

“Real subtle, Chan,” you hear another mock. 

The war room is in shambles before you know it, loud voices talking over threats to slit throats and to shove people overboard. The room is humid and it feels as though the light from the oil lamps are fading. You close your eyes amidst the utter chaos, rubbing the heel of your palm on your temple in an attempt to soothe the throbbing vein. 

“Enough!” The pirate captain has spoken and you have the urge to ask what took him so long. 

Tranquility once again and you almost thank the man. Before anyone can say another word, nausea begins to build in your stomach. 

It takes you a minute to realise the room was spinning and that you weren’t completely losing your mind. The ship begins to rock harder as the seconds tick by, everybody in the room seemingly still as they perceive the change.

“Batten down the hatches,” the pirate captain says to no one in particular.

Chan is the only one who moves to the door to leave before he’s interrupted. 

“All of you. Those clouds weren’t looking too nice up there, we’ve got a storm on our hands.”

By everyone he surely did not mean you, because as the room rushes out and you hear the thuds of boots clamouring up to the main deck, you’re left alone with the captain. Yet again.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep steady, and you wonder how he’s able to remain balanced while on his feet. It isn’t long before your chair begins to slide as well, the legs croning as they slip on the hardwood. You spring up on instinct, hands coming to the bolted down drawing table to stabilise yourself. 

The pirate captain seems unphased, moving the curtains on the far end to try to get a glimpse at where the water breaks. He steps like he knows exactly where the evermoving floor would be, barely glancing below to gauge his footing. 

“Shouldn’t you be up there?” There’s effort in your voice, your grip on the table as hard as ever as the ship banks to a hard left. He barely grabs the wall in support. 

“Huh? They can figure it out themselves, they’re big boys,” he grunts.

“Your big boys were at each other’s throats a moment ago,” you grunt back, stumbling at a particularly forceful lurch. 

“If you weren’t so ill prepared they wouldn’t need to use their brains, that’s always dangerous,” he shoots back. He’s on the other end of the room, pushing the unbolted cabinet back in its place 

“I gave you a job and it's up to you to see it done, I’m not—ah— I’m not supposed to be planning at all!” 

“Are you?” He’s turned to look at you know, mouth hitched in a snarl as his forehead reflects a light sheen. “Because trying to murder a—”

“Trying to murder a King isn’t a normal task,” you finish for him in a hiss. “Yes, as you’ve reiterated a million times.”

“Great, so you know!” Sarcasm is a deadly look on him, you realise as he walks over from the cabinet to where you were in the middle of the room. The waves have given in, the rocking becoming significantly slower. “Now do you mind telling us about a plan that actually has better odds?”

Your white knuckles have relented, the hands that gripped the table coming loose as you stare back at the pirate in defiance. “I should just hand you over.”

“It’s sweet you think you’re in charge here,” the grit in his voice is evident. “This isn’t your turf anymore, miss princess.”

“You don’t trust me, and you don’t give me reason to trust you—ugh.”

The waves seemed to have decided she hadn’t had enough just yet, this particular lurch sending you hurtling backwards into the wall, back hitting the hardwood as the stable pirate himself loses his footing. You could almost believe you’d landed sideways with the gravity that’s lost its way beneath your feet. 

The chair you were once sitting on is hurtling towards you with a vengeance, gaining momentum as you simply watch it approach like a wooden bullet. A boot clad foot kicks it to the other end and you realise the pirate captain’s gotten hold of his bearings before you have. 

“What happened to being transparent with one another?” he huffs, breathless and wide eyed as he attempts to pull himself to his feet. 

There’s another lurch that sends you both skidding towards the table, just short of grabbing on before you’re hurtled into the cabinet that had moved again, and now slams back into the wall with the weight of the sea and two humans with a bang!

“Fine. You give me your ammo to blow up the bilge, let me on the ship with my dear father and one of you scoops in and saves me before I drown with him,” you yell over the sounds of clanging and banging of everything on this cursed ship, and the whooshing and thunders of the skies, winds and water. “And if I riddled the chances of you letting me drown with my father? Where does that leave me?”

“On the bottom of the seabed,” he deadpans. “But that also leaves me without my freedom.”

You find the opportunity to look at him for a moment, and he’s looking at you too. He looks away towards the door, already making moves to walk out and join his crew above deck. The conversation was over, and it was evident in your lack of reply.

Mother nature, however, sends another one in as a surprise and you're both sent flying to the other end of the ship, yet again. 

There’s a cushion to your blow this time as you find yourself landing right into the pirate captain’s chest, hand above his heart in your instinct to save yourself any more bruises. Between your bickering and the staggering of the ship, his shirt had flown open nearly down to his navel. 

Your eyes barely register the nasty scar across his left pec, instead moving upwards to lock eyes with him. It’s insanity, how you instinctively dart your eyes towards his half open mouth. 

“If you wanted me that bad, miss princess, you could’ve just asked.”

Whatever airborne drug that’d been willy nillying in your noggin seems to spin into a rage as his words register a moment too late. Clenched jaw and a vice grip on his shirt, you spit back. 

“I don’t ask for things. They come to me.”

There’s a crash above you and you realise the oil lamp that was suspended above has shattered, raining glass over your forms. 

Expect you don’t feel it, because he’s ducked over you and suspended his arms in the air to catch the crystalline. 

Before you can decide whether it was instinct or not, you hear a yell at the door.

“Captain! One of the—oh.” 

A barely balancing Mingyu, is staring into the now dimly lit war room, his captain and their supposed prisoner pressed against one another in a dark corner of the room. 

Your instinct forces you to take a slow step backwards. 

“Get back up,” he snarls, already pushing past you to stalk towards the door. He actually makes it this time, shoving Mingyu into the hall towards the stairs. 

Not as much as a glance back before he slams the door shut, leaving you in the tattered war room alone, shards of glass at your feet.

THE STORM SEEMS TO have done its damage as it calmed itself for the rest of the morning and well into the day. 

One of them had come down and escorted you to your quarters, Chan telling you that you could keep it while the rest of them adjusted in the other cots and quarters aboard. Changing out of your ragged, days old clothes felt luxurious, the familiar scent of your quarters putting your tense shoulders at ease; or at least a semblance of such. 

Neither you nor the captain have attempted to speak to each other after the incident in the war room. Having berated yourself for letting your guard down enough, you chalked it up to the lack of food and sleep and put the matter to rest in some deeply buried chest in your head. 

For now you board up the door of your cabin (because you haven’t completely lost it), and burrow under the covers for some much needed shut eye. 

You aren’t sure how long the universe lets you rest, because unless you’ve slept all the way to the Green Islands the banging on the door seems incessant enough to warrant an arrest of its own. The sleep is slow to leave, and it’s hard enough to push an entire drawer against a door, the bleariness paired with whoever the fuck was outside the door isn’t making it easier to push it away from the entrance either. 

By the time you’ve wrenched the door open, you’re thoroughly annoyed, and met with a very alarmed Seungkwan. 

“Oh thank goodness, I was about to try opening it,” he says, looking genuinely relieved. “I thought you might’ve….anyway.”

“You weren’t trying to break in before?” you ask.

He only thrusts a tray of rations and water towards you, “Captain said to give this to you.”

Accepting the tray, you try to balance it in one hand with furrowed brows, “Oh.”

“Um. That’s it, sorry for waking you up.” He makes a move like he’s about to turn around and leave but falters. “If…if you need anything a bunch of us are on the main deck.”

And then he’s gone. 

You take it as your cue to shut the door, kicking one of the heftier pieces of furniture against it before moving back inside. 

When you peer up your tiny window, it’s late afternoon and the beginnings of orange on the surface tell you the sun is beginning to set. You decide it was a good enough amount of sleep. Setting the tray down on the smaller than usual desk, you find that these pirates do not have a knack for subtlety. Many of your letters and papers are haphazardly stacked and shoved into one corner of the table, very obviously sifted through. 

Not that you care too much, there was nothing awfully important that you wouldn't have told them yourself. Ripping off a piece of bread from the tray, you take pleasure in chewing as loudly and as open mouthed as you wished, plucking the parchment at the top of the pile to study. 

It’s another one signed by your father, not a question of your wellbeing in sight as he scrawls ink on paper all the incorrect things you did in the Southerner’s banquet last month. If anything, you were glad the stupid Admiral was away from your presence, his incessant habit of reporting your every breath and turn to your father was becoming too much to handle. 

This was one of his tamer letters, less insults attached to his criticisms but a pain to read anyway. You don’t brush away the crumbs that fall onto the parchment. 

There is not a diplomatic bone in your body. Perhaps move on from drinks and dessert and into more important territories besides the Duke’s son. Our kingdom needs a ruler that’s strong, not one that forgets where she is after a sip of brandy!

If you squint hard enough, it almost reads as a parent scolding a child for a spill, like regardless of what you did, he might just love you the same. 

You wonder how good of a mood he was in when he wrote this. 

Sifting through the rest of the papers you take a mental note of every reason he’s given you to believe that you’d be a hopeless ruler, a few years ago you even questioned why he kept you around before realising his contradicting intentions. As you read, letter by letter, you think of reasons you know are going to make you a better ruler, better than him and better than his stupid court of old men.

These pirates are a blessing, you think, and you aren’t about to let this chance from the universe drown in these waters.

HOSHI ISN'T IN TROUBLE. No, he isn’t. On his butt on the sleek floorboards of the ship, his own golden dagger glinting in the sunlight as it's held in a threatening hold, except it isn’t in his hands. 

It’s pointed right into his jugular vein, held by some grimy sailor who considers himself something akin to a pirate. Perhaps the stench this sorry excuse of a crew carries around may be their idea of a criteria, but as Hoshi remains inches away from death, all he can think about is the atrocious fingers around his dagger, and all the scrubbing he’s going to be doing after this is all over. 

Mingyu had warned him, told him to take down the flag of the navy from the mast, the royal seal in the smack middle of the ginormous thing. He brushed it off. He wasn’t quite sure if he was tipsy, hungry or just plain exhausted when he made that decision, because he’d forgotten just how stupid some of these simpleton sailors could get. 

They were taken by surprise, their only weapons mops and buckets of soapy water as they were ambushed by some overlooked wherry that had suddenly thrown hooks over their railing and climbed up like uninvited sewer rats. 

In the initial confusion, interrupted mid-chorus of some pretty siren and her pirate prince, the first few intruders had simply crumpled over onto the slippery deck, a few slipping overboard completely from the suds and water on the wood. His crew, and Hoshi himself, could only stand and watch as the newcomers sabotaged themselves for a few incredulous moments before they gained their bearings. 

Chan and Seungkwan swang their mops right into the necks of a couple, sending them into the ocean without waiting for a splash. 

Hoshi slips out his dagger with practised ease, swinging the butt of the hilt over the head of another ambushing intruder, right on the head as he crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. He kicks him over for an indication of where he came from. No ink that shows an alliance, no brooch or jewels with a crest. 

New guys, ones that were clearly still learning the ropes. 

Hoshi’s crew had better senses than required for him to yell out orders, and it only took a few more disgruntled minutes to disable the remaining extra men aboard. 

“Where the fuck did these guys come from?” he asks no one in particular, mostly just annoyed that they were disturbed. 

Minghao, who’s peeking over the railing replies, “It’s a tiny thing. They either lost their actual boat or didn’t have one at all.”

He vaguely registers him making a jerking arm movement over the exterior before he hears a wail and a splash. “Disgusting.” Minghao holds his hands away from his body like he didn’t want it anymore. 

Hoshi’s mistake was keeping his guard down, because before anyone could warn him, the dagger that he held loosely against his hip had slipped out his palm. The next thing he knows, his neck is in some grimy sleeve’s grip, and the point of his dagger is lodged into his own throat. He holds his breath, afraid he might pass out completely from the stench alone. 

“Not a move.” He sounds like a boy more than anything, but his grip indicates a harsher life. “Everybody into that fishing boat. I’ll throw this one in when you’re done.” 

He sounds unstable, but that only makes him more dangerous. Hoshi can’t try to wiggle his way out of this one, one wrong move and it’s the end. His crew can’t do anything as they stand with broken mops and empty buckets as their weapons. 

It was stupid of him to even allow himself to be cornered like this, not when he’s weaselled his way out of more dangerous situations with more ease than this. 

His crew looks at him, and he can only close his eyes in encouragement. He watches as Jun steps over one of the defeated bodies to reach the hooks that’ve lodged into the railing. His movements are slow, and he can tell he notices the unhinged nature of this boy that he doubts is barely over 17. 

Chan follows, then Seungkwan as Jun double checks the integrity of the ropes. He’s stalling. 

“Hurry!” It was supposed to come out as a threat, but it sounded more like a plea from the boy. 

And then Jun stops completely, his eyes trained on Hoshi. His eyes are wide, his grip on the rope so tight he can see the whites of his knuckles from the other side of the ship. 

No, he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking behind him. Before he can register, there’s a loud bang of a gunshot, and Hoshi feels the body of his captor slump against his back, his dagger dropping to the ground with an ominous clang. He falls with him, turning over to push the dead weight of the body off of him. 

There’s smoke in the air when Hoshi looks back and it takes him a moment to realise who just basically saved his life. 

You stand in your nightgown, shawl over your shoulders, and a revolver, Jun’s revolver, clenched tightly in both hands. It remains frozen in the air, hovering as he takes in your face. Eyes wide, mouth open slightly, the colour drained from your face. 

Hoshi scrambles to get up as the rest of the crew swarm both him and you. He grabs his dagger before anything else, looking back to see a bullet lodged in the back of his captor’s skull, blood pooling the deck. 

He looks back at you shoving the revolver back into Jun’s hands eagerly, like you didn’t want to feel the warmth of the metal any more than you wanted to make that shot. 

He looks back at the cooling body, and then back at you, an undeniable warmth overcoming his chest. 

You just saved his life.

“Are you alright?” he hears Chan ask you. You nod slowly, and then quickly. 

“Where did you find this?” Jun asks. 

“Uh, in one of the quarters. Downstairs. I went down because I thought it’d be safer, you were handling it and I didn’t want to get in the way. But then…all your weapons were there.” 

Your voice sounds airy, like you were in a daze. Hoshi comes to the stark realisation that this may have been your first time with a weapon, and then even more horrifying, your first kill. 

“I’m sorry, I just thought it was getting out of hand and—” 

“It’s alright,” Seungkwan says. He watches as you let him lead you back down the stairs below decks. 

It was like the shock turned you into a different person, complacent, less defiant. Seungkwan clearly had more of an emotional range, because it certainly took Hoshi too long to realise you might be on the edge of panic. 

Hoshi doesn’t say a word as you disappear, the smell of gunpowder from the singular shot wafting through the deck. He doesn’t realise he’s staring into space until Mingyu interrupts. 

“Should we—”

“Throw them overboard,” Hoshi says, voice flat. 

“But, this one seems like he’ll come around. We could question him and drop him off wherever next—”

“He’s a shit seaman, if even a pirate, he’s got what came for him. Throw. Him. Overboard.” Hoshi is out of breath, yet grits the words out through clenched teeth. “All of them.”

Hoshi slips his dagger back into its sheath at his hip. All he can think about is your blown pupils and you in your nightgown. All he can think about is how they were almost bested by a child. All he can think about is how you had to make that final shot to save his ass, that he couldn’t do it himself. 

Mingyu senses his mood and asks no more questions, simply pushing the remaining bodies out into the water. He vaguely registers Minghao sending the men a prayer into the sea. Mingyu’s already trying to get the stupid naval flag off the mast, stripping off his jacket and disposing of it at the base to start climbing. 

Chan pushes a clean rag into his chest, and he looks down to receive it and notes a tinge of blood at his collar. Right, he was bleeding. 

They go back to cleaning, except it’s a lot more silent. 

Jun walks back up to help, but this time he has both of his clean, black revolvers strapped at his hip.

THERE WERE FEWER PEOPLE in the war room this time around, the captain sits beside Mingyu, Jun and Minghao as they attempt to sketch out a crude rendition of your discussion. The pirate captain does nothing but use his dagger to pick under his nails, barely speaking as he listens in on the conversation. 

Not that you cared, you and the rest of his crew seemed to get along better than you did with the captain anyway. Saving the man’s life seemed to hold no weight to him, not that you expected it but a ‘thank you’ would have sufficed. 

“Keep the grenade til the last minute if it makes you feel better, so you’ll know I’m not trying to sink the wrong ship,” you sigh as you clarify. Minghao doesn’t reply as he scribbles the details. Jun rolls his eyes at his meticulous nature. 

“We need to port in the next couple days if I’m gonna finish this grenade in time,” he says, looking at his captain pointedly. 

“We can stop at Port Ash,” Hoshi says. 

Port Ash was no man’s land, which also meant it was every man’s land. 

Being mostly occupied by pirates and other thieves and criminals it was considered dangerous territory for anyone who didn’t speak in lies, deceit and fists. This crew would fit right in, but you worry for yourself. 

“That’s not gonna be till a week and a half,” Mingyu interjects. 

Jun frowns as he looks at Mingyu and then back at his captain, “I can’t wait that long.”

“We’ll pick up what we can at Hasry when we stop for rations,” Hoshi replies. 

“But—”

“Deal with it. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Jun looks like he wants to say something, and Mingyu has the good sense to interject again to ask more questions about the plan. 

“How much manpower do you think the king’ll have?” he asks.

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “I have no idea. Could be five, could be fifty.”

“Not even an inkling?”

“Considering how he wants the lot of you gone, it’s probably on the larger side. But…” you pause. 

“But?”

“He’s smart. Always seemingly one step ahead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he catches us blind.” 

“I know enough about that,” Hoshi snorts. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests something, but you don’t press.

“I was wondering…we should probably change course even if it takes us longer. My father might intercept—”

“Did that. Didn’t take the obvious alternative route either,” Mingyu replies, and you note that he looks proud of himself. “We can take our time too, the ransom note suggested we took the way past Scarsfield.”

“We should be careful of other boats anyway,” you say, gulping down a lump in your throat before continuing. “Those other sailors could’ve been my father’s men too, for all we know.”

“They were on a smaller boat too,” Hoshi adds, he looks like he’s making connections in his brain. “What’re the odds they were dropped farther back into a smaller boat?”

There’s a pause as you absorb what he’s implying. “Are you saying they’re on our tail?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says, exhaling heavily through his nose. “He’s done it before. It was a sorry attempt then and it was a sorry attempt now.”

“How did you shake him off last time?”

The panic in your chest is barely there, but as you register the possibility, you find yourself breathing increasingly heavy. 

“Circling farther out before going the opposite way so we wouldn’t cross paths.” He shakes his head. “But we can’t do that now, not when we can’t afford detouring. The port stops are as late as I’m willing to go.”

“What if we skip Hasry? It’s our more obvious stop, we’ll just stop at Ash later,” Minghao suggests. 

“We’ll starve, we’ve got no food,” Hoshi gruffs.

“Portwater?” 

“Too far.”

It’s silent yet again as everyone racks their brains. You feel very useless all of a sudden, you didn’t know the names of harbours or ports this far out.

“We’ll just port at Hasry and be extra careful, there’s nothing we can do.” Hoshi sighs at his own ultimatum. 

He gets up and walks around the table to the door, “I’ll update the others.”

You glance as he walks past you, his figure leaving a gust of wind in your face. He smelled nice, which was saying something considering the state some pirates are known to be in. As he brushes past, your gaze is met with the other side of the war room, an empty oil lamp bracket on the wall. 

The memory of the storm floods your mind, and suddenly your cheeks are burning. Snapping your head back, you're thankful they’re all absorbed in the papers and plans on the table, oblivious to the memory that’s flashed before your eyes. Mingyu was the one who saw you in your compromising position, and you didn’t know him well enough to decide whether he’d do something as dumb as dish out his captain’s ‘affairs’. 

You file out the room with them. They don’t escort you to your rooms, make sure you stay in one place, restrict your wandering anymore. Perhaps they’d realised you weren’t actively attempting to sink the ship anymore, or that if you jumped off the edge it didn’t matter to them that much, but you appreciated the space anyway. 

Briefly catching Seungkwan filling Mingyu in on the past couple hours they’d been below deck, you turn over to catch his eye. He waves, and you wave back. You don’t realise what you did till it already happened, noting the smile on his face as he did it. You choose to move past it and find the captain. 

There was something you wanted from him. 

There’s no trace of him on the main deck, eyes scanning the area to no avail. A movement from above catches your peripheral attention, eyes squinting as you crane your neck up to look. Hoshi has leaned his back against the railing of the crow’s nest, arms crossed, visible hand occupied with a brass telescope that glints in the sunlight. 

He isn’t using it though, merely gazing at the horizon with furrowed brows. As though he could see better without the device in his hand. In the few minutes that you’re looking at him, you notice the muraled, multicoloured shirt that blows with the wind, a kaleidoscope of beiges, greens and reds. The crop of his blonde hair blends in with the clear blue-white sky. 

Briefly wondering how he’s managing the impossible heat, a hand coming over your own eyes as a visor, you simply look back down. Seungkwan is next to you. You aren’t quite sure how he got there, but he stands next to you, hands on his hips, a pleasant expression on his face. 

“Is there anything you want when we dock? We’re trying to make a list,” he says. Somehow, the prospect of pirates making lists boggled you a little. It was a little jarring, not quite sure why he asked a captive anyway.

But then again, were you a captive anymore?

“I don’t think so, no,” you reply and then juggle whether you should push it with another measly formality. “Thank you for asking.”

“That was your first kill, wasn’t it?”

“What?” You knew what he was talking about, but you weren’t expecting him to bring it up in the moment when he’s asking you about restocking supplies. And especially not with a smile on his face. 

“That day, when you used Jun’s revolver to shoot the lad.” 

A kid. He was a child. 

“I…yeah I’d never done it before.”

“What made you do it?” he asks, remaining as nonchalant as ever. 

“I—I don’t know, it looked like there wasn’t another option,” you say, not quite sure of yourself either. 

Why did you shoot him? You’d never laid hands on a gun before, your father forced you into the category of archery and crossbows, not that you were very good at them either but it was also because you simply wanted to spite your father by being plain bad. It worked, because it only took a year and a half and an arrow straight into his study window to retire from the sport entirely.

Even then, your targets had been apples, barrels and tree trunks. Never a person. 

You’d heard of what people tended to do in pressuring situations, and with the way the aftermath unfolded, it didn’t seem like you made the wrong decision to pick up that revolver anyway. 

But the feeling lingers, the same one that you saw as you gazed into the back of the boy that held the captain of this ship hostage. It felt wrong. Like watching the pirate captain cornered was a picture you couldn’t quite make sense of in your head. 

So you pulled the trigger. 

“In any case, we’re glad you made that decision. We all owe you for it.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you gulp, inhale and press your lips in a line. “That’s a lot for a pirate to say.”

“I know.”

BY THE TIME YOU manage to corner Hoshi it’s already the next day, and you’re only a couple hours away from docking at Hasry. 

It’s an anxious ordeal, the crow’s nest constantly occupied by someone trying to catch sight of a possible tail. There was no sign, yet anyway. 

“I want to learn to use a knife.”

He was piling coiled ropes when you’d said it, pushing the heap to the side, sweating through his clothes. There was a flash of confusion on his face as he registered you. 

“Why? So you can slit all our throats in our sleep?” he grumbles as he pushes a barrel against the railing. He’s too aggressive, and the force has the splashback soaking his clothes in freshwater, tsk-ing audibly. 

You ignore the way his previously loose shirt now sticks to him, ignore the way the droplets land on your boots when he shakes his sleeve. 

“We’ve discussed what we might be up against, I don’t want to be useless when the time comes.”

“Seemed pretty alright with that revolver.”

“Anyone can shoot a gun,” you say, getting the sudden urge to fidget with the front of your shirt. You try to make your voice sound as declarative as possible. “I want to learn to fight. With a knife, with a sword, with my hands if I have to.” 

He doesn’t say anything as you look down, fiddling with the tassels on your shirt. Your excuse was the sun and the way it was beating down on the deck this afternoon, getting tired of squinting to simply look straight. When the silence prolongs you look up to push further, juggling with bringing up the fact that you saved his life and that, as Seungkwan very graciously told you, he owes you. 

The sound your throat makes is unhuman, because when you look up the captain's soaked shirt is now off his back. 

The skin is near white from the glare of the sun, remnants of glazed water that’s somehow made its way to his back as well. The dip in his shoulder blade reflected a dark marking, one that you couldn’t make out. 

He wrings it as you can only watch, mouth gaping like a fish. Hanging it over one of the suspended ropes to dry, he mutters as he walks to the lower decks. 

“Fine,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ll get you a knife at Hasry.”

Hasry. Right. 

The port is quiet, at least as quiet as a port can be. There’s not much to see but fishermen both returning and leaving for another week's worth of fish supply. Minghao manages to pay and convince the harbourmaster that they were merchants on their way back to the Kingdom, stopping for supplies. The naval make of the ship helped, and then the crew pulled lines and ropes secured from masts in ways you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You assumed you would stay on board, yet when Chan knocked and brought you some roughspun clothes from the town, you were informed you’d be joining them. 

Hoshi deemed it safer, keeping the rest of the crew on board while he, along with you and Seungkwan, ventured into the village to get what was needed and leave before the sun fully set. If they really were being followed, the ship was going to be the first thing they seized. 

Pulling the grey shawl further up your head, you attempt to look as blended as you could, Chan pressing down your shoulders to force you into a slouch. 

“Stop walking like you're important,” he had said. 

“I’m a princess,” you snapped back, but he wasn’t listening, only jabbing at you to keep the haughtiness out of your tone before it caught somebody’s attention. 

The town was a quaint little place, something out of what you were read from storybooks, reminiscent of the paintings that you’d run past on the walls of the palace. The streets cleaner than you’d expected, the faint scent of baked goods in the air mixed with, onion soup, was it? In any case you were glad you were past the fish market, the yelling and the stench nearly sending you to the pavement, gagging. 

When Hoshi returns, you and Chan are looking at a jewellery stall that’s selling necklaces, bracelets and anklets that look like rosaries; colours of deep ocean blue and sunset pinks, beautifully vibrant against their grey canvas backdrop. 

You can only observe from afar, instructed to not interact with anyone while he was gone. Hoshi was gone to get food supplies, but returned empty handed. Systems were in place, that the crates would be on their way to the “big naval ship” at the docks for the rest of the crew to receive.

“They said there was a blacksmith up this alley” Hoshi says, eyes also trained on the uncharacteristically colourful jewellery stall, but he does nothing to move towards it. “We can get your knife there.”

“Knife?” Chan asks, confused. 

“Miss princess wants to learn to fight—”

“Don’t!” Chan hisses, eyeing the men in black uniform that patrol the market from the shadows. 

“It’s fine, they’re too far,” Hoshi says. “Let’s get this over with.”

You do find a blacksmith, an older man with a greying beard and bloodshot eyes that presents Hoshi and Chan with an array of knives and daggers. Either they were able to give an excuse, or he gave no mind to the third woman that trailed behind, the blacksmith continued to deal with the two men as they haggle over prices. 

There’s another seller a ways away, and she’s laid out her goods on the floor on what looks like old drapes. It’s a woman, not much older than you were, unravelling a long string of leather cord. She cuts it, strings a charm through and seals the frayed end with a candle flame that burns at her side. 

The curtain she’s laid her accessories on is patterned with bright colours, and you realise you can’t make out any of it from where you stand. 

Glancing behind you, the men are still occupied with their bartering, seemingly forgetting of your presence. Taking a step back, you pretend to skim through the neighbouring stalls, glancing breezily at woven baskets, layers of folded fabric and towers of painted ceramic cups. 

You stop before the laid out array of more necklaces and earrings, scanning the ground. The vendor looks up and gives you a big, crooked toothed smile, urging you to come forward, to take a look at what she has to offer. 

Something does catch your eye, and you immediately crouch down to see it better. Picking up the necklace from the charm, you let the gold and red rest on your fingers as you study the make. 

“That one’s new,” the woman says. “Practical too.”

The small brass letter opener that’s looped through the cord looks like it could do its job just fine despite its miniscule size. 

“It’s quite popular among the busy merchants,” the vendor speaks in a rough tone, almost like she had a perpetual sore throat. “Easier to use this instead of looking for those bulky ones in their neverending drawers and—and in their cabinets.”

She lets out a laugh, “Quite pretty too.”

You stare at it for a moment, “How much?”

“Ten coin.”

You sigh, setting the necklace back down onto the cloth. Standing straight, you turn to walk away before she yells again. 

“I’ll do seven!” 

You consider whether you should speak, but you also doubt you’d be recognized just by the sound of your voice.

"I don’t have coin,” you rasp. 

“How about that pretty thing on your finger then?” she asks. 

The ring on your middle finger is a simple band of silver, a coming of age present from your father’s court a few years ago. You stare at the band, worth boatloads more than what this woman in an alley was offering you.

But you find yourself moments later, middle finger empty, and pocket lined with the long leather necklace with the miniature letter opener charm. 

By the time you return to the blacksmith’s shop front, Chan is handing the man his coin as Hoshi holds an object sheathed in fabric. They turn around just soon enough to make it seem like you never left. 

“Why are you standing so far away?” Chan asks. “Come closer.”

You listen, moving closer to the both of them as they get ready to make the trek back to the docks where the ship waits. 

“The crates have probably been loaded too,” Hoshi says, his hands suddenly empty. You assume he’s pocketed the knife somewhere. “Let’s hurry and leave before—”

“Princess?”

It was your mistake that you turned around to acknowledge the title, something you realise as soon as you register the man that spoke to you. 

Henley was a stout man, dressed even now in the finest suit of a berry colour, hair white as a ghost. There was no reason for a merchant so rich he had ties with the royal family to be wandering in a harbour market, but he also had every reason to be here. 

If it was the recognition in your eyes, or the fact that they were just being smart, you feel one of the pirates wrap their fingers around your upper arm and pull you to walk away from the alley. 

“Princess!” Henley yells and you cringe at his volume. People are looking now, and you briefly wonder why you aren’t running yet. 

Your heart is pounding against your chest so hard it’s deafening any other sound in your ears, you still don’t know which one has a hold of you, but you let them guide you into a speed walk as you exit the narrow alleys of the main market. 

The shawl above your head is pushed further down, shielding your face in a shadow. There’s nothing in your mind other than Clarence Henley and his rich suit, his gold pocket watch, his trimmed, white hair. His face that you only ever saw within palace walls, always accompanied by your father. 

There’s a good chance you’re shaking, because you can feel your body rejecting it with the pain in your palms that you can only consider to be your own nails pressing into your hand. 

The stench of the fish market helps, bringing you back from your daze as you finally register the ground beneath your feet. It’s only a few more minutes till you reach the docks and you’re suddenly being pushed up the ramp that leads to the main deck of the ship.

It’s immediate comfort, the familiar brown of the floorboards, the scent of saltwater and warping sounds of the sails. You’re led to your quarters, where you finally let the makeshift hood and cape fall. 

“Are you alright?” 

Snapping your head up, you’re met with Seungkwan and his concerned gaze. 

“Oh, erm.” Your voice sounds…not like your own. 

“It’s okay, breathe.” It helps, because it really did feel like you’d forgotten to breathe. 

“We’re leaving in just a few, everything’s been loaded. Nobody followed you on board, don’t worry.”

Right. You were on the ship, you were in your quarters with some of the most feared pirates on the seas. 

The way Seungkwan is easing you through your gulps of water suggests legends in the mix, but you appreciate it regardless. 

When you’ve come round, feeling more like yourself, the ship has already left Hasry Harbour, sailing into the deeper waters of the ocean. 

“Captain said they couldn’t run because it just would’ve been more suspicious,” Seungkwan informs you as you nod. “Did you…did you recognise him? The man at the market.” 

The thoughts come flooding back, the colour of his suit, the jarring nature of a man of such wealth standing in a rundown port market. 

“He’s a merchant, one of the wealthiest. A friend of my father’s. If he even has any friends.” 

You pause as you think about the near blackout you’d had, the way the panic more than boiled over, taking over your senses and your rationality. 

“I think…” you trail off. “I think I just felt like it was the end. I finally had an opportunity to get rid of that tyrant and seeing something that was from home, felt…it felt like I was going to end up right back where I started.”

Seungkwan doesn’t say a word as you digest your own words, accepting your own fear that had rendered you useless in the time it probably mattered most. 

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little,” you answer. 

“Maybe a weapon can help.”

At the door stands Hoshi, a stern expression on his face as he looks directly at you on the bed. In his hands, the same fabric covered knife he acquired at the market. 

You know that you asked for this, but the jolt in your stomach still makes itself known. 

“He’s right,” Seungkwan says, lifting from his chair. “Blades have a way of calming you in any case.”

You note the glinting hilt of Seungkwan’s sword sheathed at his hip, remember Hoshi’s own daggers that he seems to be emotionally attached to. 

Lifting your head back to Hoshi, you ask, “Can we start now?”

He smirks. 

ALL NIGHT, THE STUPID pirate captain had you taking swings at the air. 

“Your opponent’s baked a fruit cake by the time you were done with that swing,” he comments, continuously unhelpful. “Swing faster.”

It’s nighttime, nothing but a few oil lamps on the floor of the deck keeping you and Hoshi in the light. Your shoulder burns, your forearms are liquid, and your non-existent opponent remains forever stronger than you. 

“I’m done,” you huff, thoroughly spent. Crumbling to the floor, you bring your non-dominant hand up to your aching shoulder in an attempt to massage it. 

It’s been a while, the moon high up in the sky when you finally decide to quit it for the night. He lets you go without a fight, and you doubt you’d have the energy to if he decided to do it anyway. 

The following day, he’s tweaked his regiment a little, and you find that you’re finally swinging at something tangible; him. 

He leaves himself open, an invitation to strike wherever you want. You feign for his shoulder, but he sees you coming from a mile away, already deflecting your flattened blade that comes for his thigh.

“Don’t look where you want to strike, you’re giving yourself away.”

Furrowing your brows, you dislodge your knife from his own and back away again. He’s immediately cocking a brow, telling you to come at him again. You go for his middle, slashing your knife in an arc as he simply deflects. 

“Come on, find a pace,” he grunts. 

Coming down with your knife again, he blocks you but this time with his forearm, pushing you back by the wrists. It was a battle of strength, as he forces your wrists down. He was stronger than you, and there was no way you could push away, so you dispel your own force. He stumbles from the sudden forward force, and you pull away to take a swing from above. 

He recovers faster than you thought he would, already coming up when you’re ready to swing. He raises a hand to deflect, half a moment too late as your blade slashes across the heel of his hand. 

There’s a brief splash of red against the blue backdrop of the sky, and you gasp on instinct, immediately moving away. 

There’s an apology ready on your lips, mouth gaping as you watch him inspect the wound. You don’t get to say anything because he beats you to it. 

“Deep enough,” he comments, like he was inspecting a painting. “Keep this up and you might actually be good by the end of the week.”

Oh. 

“Alright,” he says again, moving back into position.

“Are you gonna wrap that?” you ask, referring to the bloody hand. 

“It’s fine, I’ve fought with worse,” he says. 

You blink as you reluctantly get back into position, bracing yourself as you continue to look at his hand dripping blood onto the deck. 

“You’re getting the hang of pacing, but you need to start considering your blade as an extension of yourself—JESUS!”

You’ve swung at him faster than you ever have, putting everything into that single tug of your knife. He wasn’t expecting it, still talking over your glances at his palm. He had his guard down, and you took the chance. He ducks on instinct, but it could’ve been another scar for him to remember if you’d made it. 

You stumble as he circles you to the other end, flattening his blade on your back.

“Nice try,” he says. “Really nice try. But you never turn your back to your opponent.”

“I lost my footing,” you defend, but even you knew that wasn’t an excuse. 

“And I just stabbed you in the back. And now I’ll have to present your corpse to your father and hope he’ll accept it and give me my ship. We all lose.” 

The pressure of the blade leaves your back and you're suddenly left looking stupid despite doing something somewhat right. 

“You’d just swindle another poor sailor off his boat and move on,” you say. “You’re a slippery thing.”

He has a smile on his face that borders a smirk yet is innocently mischievous enough. It’s a strange sight, bloody hand, relaxed face. There’s a clean-ish rag on a nearby closed barrel that he uses to wipe the excess blood off his hands. 

“I keep going because I live without regret.”

You can only roll your eyes as a scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You simply turn around, settling to the floor, going back to massaging your still aching shoulder. That last blow only made it worse.

“I don’t regret things, miss princess. Ask me why.”

You remain silent. 

“Come on,” he urges, that silly smile remaining on his face. He’s washing the wound now with freshwater from the barrel.

Sighing, you ask him, “Why?”

“Because I don’t ever do things I’d regret.”

“That insinuates you think before you act.”

“Right-O,” he declares, wrapping another torn cloth on his cleaned wound.

“Funny,” you answer. “Because I dont think I’ve ever seen any hint of light behind your eyes.”

He turns around to you, sheathing his dagger at his hip, a dangerous look in his eye.

“You’ve looked into my eyes?” 

The clench in your jaw must have been visible, or the look of disgust on your face might’ve been apparent just the same, because the pirate captain simply laughs out loud before retreating towards the stairs to go below deck. 

“I’ll send Jun up, practise with him.”

You wanted to send your knife, point first, hurtling into his retreating form. 

Never turn your back to your opponent, my ass. 

But you don’t, mostly because he’d probably manage to deflect that too. So you resort to sitting cross legged on the deck, staring at your dagger while waiting for Jun to meet you upstairs. 

Hoshi said he picked the knife based on a number of things you’d already forgotten, something about carbon steel and having a good grip. It’s quite pretty, you’ll have to admit. It’s plain silver, but the reflection it makes in the sun makes it difficult to look away. You’d gotten used to the handle and how it fit in your palm, Hoshi assured you that the more you used it, the more the hilt would mould into your grip. 

Jun stomps onto the deck, revolver-less and instead equipped with an array of knives that he deposits on the deck. 

“Should’ve picked a plain old gun,” he grumbles as he holds one of the longer blades in his hand. “Job’s done and you don’t need to get within ten feet.”

“Don’t have to reload a knife, do I?” you comment, taking the first swing. 

Jun may have an affinity for guns and explosives, but his handling with a knife was still nothing below an expert level. He pushes your arm off before spending you into a ballroom spin, flatting his blade at your collarbone. 

That could’ve been your throat.

“No, but by now I could’ve shot you, thrown you overboard, and been on my way to a nap,” he says in your ear, before releasing you as you get back into position again. 

That could’ve been your throat.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK PASSES with your days and nights muddled into a strange mixture of swinging knives and taking breaks slumped against the deck of the ship, unmoving. 

It’s a particularly hot day, the giant glowing orb beating down on the deck with no mercy. Not that it stops you, because the sun remains unwavering, high in the sky, and you remain unwavering in your wide legged stances as you lunge for Chan again. 

Chan’s entire being glistens in the afternoon light, the beads of sweat that he wipes off his forehead only seem to reappear every couple minutes. His clothes cling to him like a second skin, taking long breaths through his teeth amidst the difficult, humid air. 

You don’t doubt you look the same, one hand in your hair suggesting you just took a bath in your own sweat. But Chan seems accustomed to the heat, and while you weren’t, you couldn’t deny your growing comfortability with it all. 

It’d been a while since your meal, hence your sluggish movements were slowly turning increasingly sharp, having cornered Chan multiple times in the duration. You’re determined to not be the one to call for a time out, so you find yourself pushing beyond what you’ve been doing for the past week or so. 

There’s a particular punch of heat at your sides, and you can feel yourself slowing. 

One deep breath, a slow exhale.

It’s all clangs and reflections of knives, tiny droplets of blood as evidence of both of your tiny, unintentional nicks and cuts. You’re succeeding, pushing the man further and further back. 

“You’re getting sloppy, aim for the blade not my tendons,” Chan seethes through his teeth. 

“I’m trying,” you grunt through the effort. 

You’re set back for a couple minutes before you go back to pushing. Your lungs burn, your entire side is numb from exertion, but you give more than your body is made for, and you succeed—kind of. 

Chan back is against the railing of the deck before he realises it, and perhaps it was momentum, or sheer exhaustion, because one minute you’ve got eyes on Chan’s hands and his blade, and the next he’s gone. There’s a loud splash, and you suddenly realise what you’ve done. 

You just pushed Chan overboard. 

You scream before you can help it, dropping your knife with a loud, resonating clang. Pushing against the rails, you peer down to find a giant ripple on the surface of the ocean, whipping your head around to the stairs leading below deck to find Mingyu and Hoshi bounding upstairs. 

“What? Where’s Chan, he was supposed to be with you,” Hoshi asks, whipping his head around the deck. 

Your wide eyed, horrified response from near the edge tells them all they need to know. 

By the time Chan’s pulled himself on board, soaked and dripping like a wet poodle, you’ve sat yourself the furthest away from the railing to prevent any more trouble. He drops onto the floor, creating a human sized puddle. 

With the way the two men had merely sighed and threw the ladder over the exterior of the ship, you concluded that this must happen enough for them to be beyond the point of concern. It only adds to it when you see Mingyu nudge Chan’s unmoving but heaving body with the toe of his boot, giggling at his expense. 

You make your way over, crouching beside Chan sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that, got carried away.”

He’s sitting up now, quickly pulling himself back to his feet and you spring back from your crouched position. 

“It’s fine, happens.” He has a small smile on his face as he says it and you conclude that he may find the situation laughable as well. 

“Now, Chan,” Hoshi says, not letting Chan move into the deck any further from the railing. “What’s the first thing you learn about brawling on a ship?” 

Chan looks slightly embarrassed as he answers, “Be aware of your surrounding—ARGH.”

Hoshi pushed him into the water. 

You jump as you run back to the rails, watching as Chan’s head re-emerges at the surface after his second dip in the ocean. 

Just as you’re about to say something to Hoshi, he’s stuck his head over the railings as well, yelling at Chan in some singsong voice. 

“One time was a mistake, twice is a problem!”

To your left, only adding to your horror, is Mingyu doubled over in his fit of laughter, heaving as he giggled uncontrollably. He’s also holding onto the railings for dear life, but clearly, for reasons completely different from yours. 

The situation resolves itself as both you and Chan learn a few lessons of practicality. Deciding you’ve done enough damage to your body, you announce that you’d be retiring for the day. 

“Thank goodness, I was about to confiscate that stupid knife, I’ve been hearing clanging in my sleep,” Mingyu mumbles as he pulls the rope ladder back up to the deck. 

In any case, you have the urge to take a dip in the ocean yourself, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your drying sweat. 

Grabbing a clean washcloth, you fill a bucket of freshwater from one of the barrels on deck and lug it into your quarters. The soaked washcloth does wonders for your overheated body, feeling enormously better after a change of clothes. 

Your scalp, however, remains itchy and burning, so you decide to go back up to the main deck, hoping to manoeuvre a hair wash situation without needing to mop the floors of your quarters. 

Refilling the bucket of freshwater, you set it down before scanning the empty deck for another spare bucket. You try not to scoff at the unwavering determination of the pirate crew to keep the deck unoccupied for such long increments, that last altercation teaching them absolutely nothing. You wonder how they’ve managed to survive for so long like this. 

Shaking the thought, you use the spare bucket as a way to deposit your waste water as you pour cups of clean water over your aching scalp. The feeling does wonders for you, letting the water wash away weeks worth of grime, sweat and stress. 

You’re almost back home in your quarters when the whiff of your hair salts hits your nose, the ones you’d packed for yourself, closing your eyes for a moment as you rub them into your scalp. You don't expect the clench that seizes your chest, but you falter when it happens anyway.

It’s nostalgic, and you hate it. 

It smells like the palace, like the incense your ladies in waiting always burned, the stench of citrus having made its way into your bones from the years of exposure to the scent. It’s too much as you blink back tears, owing them to the suds that have made their way into your eyes. 

The sting helps bring you back, opening your eyes to an orange glow and the waft of seasalt  hitting your nose. You’re more aggressive when you dunk your cup into the bucket this time, too aggressive as you feel the half full bucket tip over and spill water all over the deck as you cause yet another accident. 

Cursing loudly, you try to blink away the suds from your eyes, soap still in your hair as you try to figure out how to get another bucket of water without ruining your fresh change of clothes, mentally kicking yourself at not thinking this through.

“You realise we have to make do with that freshwater till we make it to Ash?” 

Wet hair still in your hands, you attempt to peer up at the voice, only to find Hoshi standing above you, arms crossed over his chest with a funny expression on his face. Huffing, you grumble out in response, “Can you just get me a fresh bucket?”

“Hm, I don’t know, can I?” He removes his gaze and begins to pretend looking over at the horizon and the setting sun. 

Chiding yourself for even bothering to ask, you reach for the tipped bucket yourself, deciding you’d figure it out yourself if this dumb pirate was choosing to be of no help. But before you could latch your fingers on the handle, the bucket’s snatched away. 

At first you think he’s being funny, taking the bucket away to watch you struggle even further. “You—”

Except you watch him as he dunks the bucket back into the barrel of freshwater, lugging it back to where you could reach. “Try not to paint the deck with it this time, I’ve already mopped twice.”

The thank you freezes on your tongue, and for some reason you can’t say it to him. So you make a scene of splashing into the bucket with vigour, sending spills over the rim and taking mild satisfaction in hearing him sigh at the sight of more mopping. 

He’s already gotten hold of the worn mop by the time you’re done as you remerge with clean hair, wringing your own mop of hair to deposit the excess water. Straightening out your back, you take hold of the spare cloth you brought along with you, patting your hair with it. 

The sun remains in its mission to cast its golden glow, but only illuminates Hoshi’s grumbling form as he mops up all the water you’ve spilled. 

“You know, I should really be making you—” He halts as he makes eye contact with you, your hands still occupied with patting your hair dry, flicking the wet strands. You have a rebuttal already prepared, waiting for him to finish his jab. 

“Make me what? you grind. 

You can’t make out the look on his face, somewhere between constipated and on the edge of a yelp, he keeps staring at you. You note a slight trickle of water making its way down your neck and chest, bleeding into your shirt as yet another water stain. 

“Nothing,” he says, to your surprise. 

And with that uneventful climax, you trudge back down to your quarters, a strange brewing in your chest.

[AN]: congrats you made it to the end of part 1!!!!! reblog ur thots and opinions or send me an ask, id love to hear the turmoil in ur minds lol

[physalian]

10 Character Dynamics the World Needs More of

Me handing out character dynamics like free samples at the Mall Food Court: “Take one! Or two! You’ll love it!”

I don’t care how many times these tropes have been done – write more of them. Write all of them. Fill out your author bingo card one by one.

1. “No one gets to kill you but me, Old Friend”

This. Right here. Primo rival content that I *live* for. All the juicy history between two old frenemies, the character drama, the backstory, the titillating unknown of what drove these two to rival status, bitter enemies that respect the heck out of each other, to the point that hell hath no fury should one get knocked down without the other’s consent.

And, of course, the moment where it seems all bets are off, when the rival comes to save their ass only to hand it back to them at a later date. The angst! The shipping fodder! Need I say more?

2. A bigger, badder villain, and their minion

You, reader, spend countless hours hating the guts of the big bad villain. They’re evil, they’re vile, they’re sadistic, heartless, irredeemable bastards. They killed your favorite character for shock value. The big bad moustache-twirling antagonist… is actually not the biggest fish in the story.

Either they’re coerced into doing evil as a puppet of the Bigger Bad, a tragic villain in their own right, or they have some reservation, some line even they won’t cross, someone else’s boots they have to kiss, someone who features in their nightmares, as they feature in the heroes. They end their stories dispatched without a thought by the Bigger Bad, or redeem themselves in death by taking out their masters. It never gets old.

3. A leader and their lancer: besties

You know what’s better than leaders and lancers who have zero faith in each other and are constantly bickering about who should be in charge? Leaders and their right-hands who adore each other (platonically). They have each other’s backs, they know each other’s greatest strengths and weaknesses and are each other’s perfect covers.

They can communicate with looks and vague gestures alone, they compliment each other’s flaws and misgivings, build up the rest of the team when they’re down on their luck, and should misfortune strike either, they pull out all the stops and show off exactly why they’re not to be trifled with, so that even the villain is afraid.

4. “I don’t even know who you are”

Oh, but you will. This one twists the knife, robbing the avenging hero of the importance in this world they’re desperate to maintain. They are their own hero, the sun revolves around them… but not to this one asshat that ruined their life and doesn’t even remember doing it.

An entire identity built upon the finding, fighting, and overcoming of this wrongdoer, every other goal in life cast aside for this one impossibility. Either the villain toys with the hero to make them irate, or gets suckerpunched by some pissant fueled by vengeance and spite and divine purpose to dole justice where justice is due.

6. The jaded badass and their naive ward

If the last 8 years of media is anything to go by, we still love this trope, whether it’s in a galaxy far, far away or a fungi-zombie post-apocalypse, or in the twilight hours of an era of legendary mutants. The best part of this trope? You get two often contradictory character types in one body. The pessimist, PTSD-ridden master of old with no living friends left and at least one dead love interest *and* beneath all that, still lies an atrophied heart of gold just waiting to be nurtured and revived.

The naive ward gets a hard lesson in how crappy the world can be, but also in how there’s still some goodness left, if their guardian cares about them. The jaded badass in turn, learns how good the world can be, that there’s something still worth fighting for beyond the next bottom of a bottle.

6. The enemy of my enemy (is my friend)

Similar to the “old friends”, this trope is often a result of the minioned Big Bad realizing they don’t want to be evil anymore. Or, bitter old rivals, sides of a war that have been fighting for generations, ideological polar opposites, fundamental polar opposites all come together when: Some evil schmuck managed to scare them both.

Doesn’t matter on what shaky ground this temporary alliance is built, or how long it lasts, equally-competent badasses on both sides finally work together and compliment each other’s strengths, and compensate for their weaknesses, in a way their teammates never could.

7. The irredeemable villain’s only wholesome connection

Not so irredeemable anymore, now are they? This trope messes with your head, taking a character you know has done heinous acts of terror, but who cares unflinchingly, unabashedly, about one thing – either their lover, their pet, their relative, or their kid.

This exists independently of the heroes and is not the same as an “oops I guess I’m your father” reveal. I’m talking this character who everyone is convinced cares about nothing and no one but themselves and their ambition still has a place in their soul for something they want to protect, they want to be loved by, or that they must spare from their atrocities.

8. Platonic Heterosexual Friendships

These two have seen each other at their most vulnerable. They’ve shared fears, dreams, desires, know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. They’ve seen each other exhausted, frazzled, dressed up, dressed down, bloodied and broken and like a raw, open nerve. These two would die for each other, they would live for each other, and yet.

They’re not in love with each other. They’re wholly comfortable in each other’s spaces without lust and desire mucking up the atmosphere. Neither is the one, neither wants to be the one. They remain together not for the bonds of romance, but for the bonds of friendship, and nothing could be stronger.

10. The Ace and their best friend, the Self-Proclaimed Slut

These two respect the f*ck out of each other. One never mocks the other for lacking desire and in return, they’re never mocked for their promiscuity. They’ll never walk in each other’s shoes, but they don’t need to, to understand that’s just how some people are. They’re each other’s safest spaces when the world doesn’t take either of them seriously.

They’re each other’s biggest defenders against the bullies, presumers, the holier-than-thous who think they have it all figured out. They’re the perfect compliment to give advice on everything from relationships to the best outfits for an outing because there’s *zero sexual tension* between them. Or, maybe, if the stars align, they’re something more.

10. The redeeming villain, and their staunchest skeptic

This villain has lost everything – their home, the respect of their people, their worth, their evil ambition, their identity, and has begun working their way up from rock bottom doing everything in their power to show the heroes that they’re serious. They make amends, they break their bones proving themselves, they’ve swayed everyone they’ve wronged in the hero camp.

Except one. The one character that was probably their first defender, and got burned for it. The character that was naive enough to think this villain could be saved, and was wrong. The character that won’t be duped again without some serious drama and soul-bearing between them.

Now tell me which ones I missed!

[murfeelee]

IWTV INSP CC Dump - Simblreen 2024

This CC file dump includes 40 items and 1 lot (*gasp~!*) for your TS3 vampires with a penchant for being interviewed! I separated the CC into thematic zip files, in case y'all aren't interested in everything.

IWTV INSP Build Mode Dump:

EA Master Suites Fireplace REDONE (basegame)

Gold Chinoiserie Wallpaper Birds (found under Paint IIRC)

Herringbone Pattern 4 & 5 (found under Wood)

IWTV INSP Buy Mode Dump:

AikeaGuinea Sordid Cassette Tapes SEPARATED (Stackable)

Goblet Decor RECOLORABLE

IWTV S3 INSP Clapperboard Decor

TS4 to TS3 Dining Out Candle Table Light

Vinyl Record Decor (Stackable) V2

IWTV INSP Dubai Wall Art:

IWTV INSP Basquiat Painting

IWTV INSP Marius' Temptation of Amadeo Painting

IWTV INSP Rembrandt Painting

IWTV INSP Transformation Painting

IWTV INSP Lestat CAS Miniset:

Lorandia Rings Male Right REDONE (Only 4)

Simsimi Kimono ACC Unisex (SHEER)

TS4 to TS3 Gramsims Feathers as ACC (SMALLER)

TS4 to TS3 Akasha CAS Miniset:

TS4 to TS3 Akasha Crown ACC

TS4 to TS3 Akasha Dress

IWTV INSP Theatre des Vampires Ads:

IWTV INSP Baby Lulu (AMR Dollhouse Blocks) RETEX (Decor & End Table)

IWTV INSP Lestat Portrait

IWTV INSP Marquee Wall Light

IWTV INSP KHD Morris Column RETEXTURED

IWTV INSP Posters 2

IWTV INSP Posters

IWTV INSP Theatre des Vampires Wall Decal

EA Paving Fan Cobblestone GREY Terrain Paint

TS4 to TS3 Neon Letters VAMPIRES:

Neon Letter V, A, M, P, I, R, E, S (only!)

IWTV INSP Claudia CAS Miniset:

Grue SilkySunflower Mashup Hair

Peggyzone Bag ACC REDONE

IWTV INSP Mods Dump:

All Raw Fish Edible Tuning Mod (REQUIRES Nona's Custom Food Script at MTS)

EA Book Overrides for IWTV

EverlastingGarden_Books as a functional Bookshelf RETEX (IWTV INSP)

IWTV INSP Theatre des Vampires Lot:

IWTV INSP TdV Community Lot (No Visitors Allowed) for Sims 3 > Library folder

+ CC MERGED file (for Sims 3 > Mods > Packages folder)

+ Decor People MERGED file (for Sims 3 > Mods > Packages folder)

(Granthe's OMSP & Buhudain's OMSP Resizers NOT included, but still REQUIRED)

Enjoy, and Happy Simblreen!

Download (package files) : Mediafire | SimFileShare

Descriptions & preview pics under the cut:

IWTV INSP Build Mode Dump

I used these in my NOLA 1132 Rue Royale gameplay way back in 2022, and never got around to sharing them, oops.

IIRC the Chinoiserie Wallpapers are non-recolorable, but come in 2 variations of normal & albino peacocks.

I forgot what I changed about the Master Suites SP Fireplace. Probably the RGBY channels. Plus it's basegame compatible now.

And ofc you can see the Herringbone patterns, which I love using on floors. Has 3 RBG channels. Found under Wood.

IWTV INSP Buy Mode Dump & Lestat CAS Miniset

Random CC I've been using:

I separated & retextured AikeaGuinea's Sordid Cassette Tapes, and made them stackable. IDER which category they're in--use LazyDuchess' Search Mod like god intended!

"There's a GOBLET on the table!" No worries, it's only decorative & fully recolorable--the "blood" inside is fake. (In that gif you can obvs see the Gramsims Feathers as ACC--tuxedo not included, sorry. Found under Bracelets, Everyday - Outerwear, fully recolorable. And you can also see Lorandia's Rings Male Right, which I redid to only keep 4 of the 8 original rings.)

The Clapperboard comes in 2 non-recolorable variations.

The decor Vinyl Record is fully recolorable and stackable (variations come with and without the Vampire Lestat VL logo).

I made Simsimi's Kimono ACC sheer (& unisex). Found under Necklaces, fit/fat morphs, Everyday - Outerwear, fully recolorable.

The TS4 to TS3 Dining Out Candle Table Light is fully recolorable.

IWTV INSP Dubai Wall Art

Louis' Basquiat painting:

Marius' Temptation of Amadeo Painting:

Armand's (stolen) Rembrandt & Louis' Transformation paintings:

TS4 to TS3 Akasha CAS Miniset

Akasha Crown ACC found under Glasses, Hat Slider compatible, Everyday - Outerwear, fully recolorable. Akasha Dress YAF/AF, full/fat morphs, Everyday - Outerwear, fully recolorable.

IWTV INSP Theatre des Vampires Ads

I retextured the red EA Paving Fan Cobblestone Terrain Paint Grey. Found under Stone/Rock/whatever it's called.

Baby Lulu (AMR Dollhouse Blocks) RETEX (Decor & End Table). (IIRC I had to use OMSP resizers on these.)

"Who's that handsome man on the wall?" The Devil Brat Prince himself! Lestat's Portrait, found under Wall Art.

IWTV INSP KHD Morris Column RETEXTURED, Posters 1 & 2 all have the same variations, mixed with AMC's posters and the IRL posters from Grand Guignol Theatre AMC used as inspo.

Theatre des Vampires Wall Decal, recolorable.

IWTV INSP Marquee Wall Light, recolorable, comes in multiple variations. (IIRC I gave the bulbs the fullbright shader so they always glow, but I may just be sleep deprived, IDER.)

TS4 to TS3 Neon Letters VAMPIRES

Neon Letter V, A, M, P, I, R, E, S (only!)

Fully recolorable, found under Wall Lights. (IIRC I gave these the fullbright shader so they always glow, but I may just be sleep deprived, IDER.)

IWTV INSP Claudia CAS Miniset

The Grue SilkySunflower Mashup Hair is a frankenmesh of Grue's Sunflower hair and Grue's Silk hair. IIRC, uses the same recolor channels. Everyday - Outerwear, Teen - AF, etc etc. I redid the Peggyzone Bag ACC cuz the original wasn't showing up in my game. Recolorable, found under Bracelets, Everyday - Outerwear, blahblah.

IWTV INSP Mods Dump

I made the Edible Raw Fish tuning mod for 3 reasons:

Not ALL raw fish are edible for werewolves (inc. crocodiles)--thanks a lot, EA

I needed my loup-garou/Swamp!Lestat to be able to actually eat the crocodiles on my bayou lot

OF COURSE I needed a way for Saint Louis to gulp down fish instead of killing sims (especially in my IWTV Mersim AU)

Naturally, for raw fish to fill the Vampire Thirst need, my mod REQUIRES Nona's Custom Food Script at MTS.

I made yet another EA book texture default replacement, this time with EA Book Overrides for IWTV. Browse here for the in-game swatches.

There are A LOT of books in TS3, so I tried to match Anne Rice's books (including but not limited to just her vampire books), plus a couple non-Anne Rice vampire books, to TS3′s particular genres:

Academic, Generic: Daniel Molloy's Under the Burning Sky

Academic (Business): The Vampire Armand

Academic (Communications): DM's Hate & Ashbury

Academic (Fine): Blood & Gold

Athletic: Prince Lestat, The Vampire Lestat

Bar, Mixology: True Blood

Biography, Drama, Masterpiece, Non-Fiction: Interview with the Vampire

Butler: Lasher

Charisma, Fantasy: Memnoch the Devil

Cooking: Feast of All Saints

Egypt: The Mummy

English, Fiction: Dracula

Fishing: Blackwood Farm

France: The Vampire Lestat, Interview with the Vampire

Generic, China: Anne Rice's Alphabettery

Handiness: Servant of the Bones

Historical: Queen of the Damned

Horror, Masterpiece: The Vampire Chronicles (Collection)

Humor: The Vampire Lestat

Inventing: The Mummy

Logic: Daniel Molloy's A Shadow on the Skin, Hate and Ashbury, The Internet's Gavel

Martial Arts, Military: Queen of the Damned

Math, Medical, Robot, Science, SciFi, Future: Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis

Music (generic): Violin

Music (Bass, Piano, Drums): Queen of the Damned

Music (Harp): Cry to Heaven

Mystery: The Witching Hour

Photography, Street Art: Blood & Gold

Poetry: Dead Brides - Vampire Tales

Prenatal: Blackwood Farm

Recipes: AR's Alphabettery (China), Queen of the Damned (Egypt), Feast of All Saints (France)

Riding: The Wolf Gift, Wolves of Midwinter, The Vampire Lestat (Wolfkiller cover)

Romance, Trashy: Sleeping Beauty

Social: Blood Communion

Spellcraft: Merrick, The Witching Hour, Lasher

Sports, Academic (Phys): Tale of the Body Thief

Toddler, Comics, Children: Claudia's Story

Vaudeville: The Vampire Armand

I retextured EverlastingGarden's Books as a functional Bookshelf to match some of the IWTV EA Book Overrides, so it could look like sims were really pulling those books off the shelf to read. Browse the 3 swatches here.

IWTV INSP Theatre des Vampires Lot

IWTV INSP TdV Community Lot (No Visitors Allowed) for LIBRARY folder (64x64 lot IIRC--maaaaybe 50x50?)

+ CC MERGED file (for PACKAGES folder)

+ Decor People MERGED file (for PACKAGES folder)

I've hit Tumblr's photo limit, so for in-game pics of the lot, see my posts here & here.

WARNING: I have all TS3 EPs installed, plus a few SPs, and I use A LOT of EA's Store CC, so I CANNOT guarantee that this lot will look the same in your gameplay as mine, if y'all don't have the same DLC. The list of Store CC that's NOT included is here.

As a rule, Granthe's OMSP and Buhudain's OMSP Resizers are REQUIRED. I didn't include them in the Merged CC file, just in case.

__________________________________________________________

"And that's the end of it. There's nothing else!"

Enjoy, and Happy Simblreen!

Download (package files) : Mediafire | SimFileShare

[factual-fantasy]

TUNA I'VE FAILED YOU OH YOU DELICIOUS PIECE OF MY HEART HOW'VE YOU BEEN MY DEAREST PUREST LITTLE GUY??!??

Since the last post you made about him I've been wanting to ScReAM my love for him but I never had the time and the energy at the same time! D: until now >:]

BECAUSE WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS?!

THE SMILE! THE FONDNESS! THE "I KNOW IM LOVED" THAT THIS DRAWING SCREAMS IS MAKING ME SO INSANE I LOVE SO MUCH HERE

Now, continuing to be an acceptable member of the Tuna Lover society.

TUNA YOU'RE THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING EVER.

Hold yourself because I have 0 self control when it comes to ramble about my specialist little guy and I'm afraid I wrote quite a lot.

Tuna looks like he is so tired. Look at him! His whole body language is screaming "I'm so tired but i dont really think sleep cluld help me". What did this rascal do that he's so tired? I wonder, but for some reason he looks more like being emotionally tired than anything. Poor bean! Did he had a rough week? A bad day? Is he feeling down? Maybe he's just tired for no specific reason, it happens sometimes. I wish I could cup him in my hands and pat his head softly as I rock him to sleep because he's so my baby :'[ <3

Ellie oh you heart of gold woman how lucky is the crew you're a part of it! Like seriously. She looked at this sad teen and said: not under my watch young boy. And went to cook his fauvorite rolls??!? She's so grannie coded I need her in my daily life you have no clue (oh no I got nostalgyc-). She's trying to hype him up and she's not just silently sliding the rolls under his hands. She's actually talking with him and something about physical contact. WAIT. IS THAT IT? IS TUNA SO VERY TOUCH STARVED THAT THIS IS HIS REACTION? OOOUGH MY HEART CANT HANDLE IT. I'll follow this train of thought later. (🚂)

Like. She's so gentle, so careful, so... She's really making sure she does all she can to lift up the spirits of that young man!

Because the way he's looking at her... the fondness.. the care and gratefulness????? Oh dear momma fish I'm dying. He's looking at her so sweetly! So gratefull! He's screaming "thanks for being a part of my life" without his mouth. He's screaming "I am so gratefull you love me" with his only one eye and I'm so down for it. I need more of them. They warm my fish heart so much... She's the grannie he never asked for bur always needed! Y'know? He's capable of looking at someone like that after all he's gone through and if that doesn't make me want to cry I don't know what does. Because that's just... OUGH I CANT WITH THEM HE HAS SUCH A TRAGYC BACKSTORY AND FEELS LIKE NO ONE LIKES HIM AND THEN THIS OLD LADY IS LIKE: YEAH, ILL BAKE HIM SONETHING SO HE CHEERS UP??!??! I NEED THEM HUGGING I NEED THEM BONDING I NEED THEM BEING A MEANACE TOGERHER BECAUSE OHMYGOD WHAT I WOULDNT GIVE TO SEE THIS TWO BEING LIKE THIS EVERYDAY.

A tiny part of me kinda wants to see one of them hurted really bad and the other protecting, but the other part of me is terrified of the mental implications it would have. Especially if it's ellie the one hurted. Oh no, no, let's end that thought there for my own sake 🫠

BECAUSE ELLIE IS JUST... SHE JUST BAKES HIM HIS FAUVORITR, I REPEAT, FAVOURITE THINGS WITHOUT HIM ASKING FOR IT.

Ok, returning with that train of thought (🚂)... I probably have alredy rambled about this before, but... When was the last time someone hold this guy gently? I mean, not even hold, but just... touch him without meaning harm? Or more precisely, when was the last time someone touched him with care? With fondness? With the intention to lift his spirit? To make him smile, at least a little tiny eety beety winesy bit?

She puts hers hand on his shoulder and he jumps, freezing with his mouth full of delicious food. It's her. Of course it's her, they were chatting alone in the kitchen, although it felt more a monologue as Ellie cooked than an actual conversation. He was too in his mind to really listen. The sudden contact was what made him blink with his only eye, staring at the caring old eyes of the lady at his right. It was nice. Warm and rough hands squeezed his arm softly, fully aware that she had startled him. She looked at him with a fond smile and placed the fresh rolls in front of him. "There, you better enjoy them boy!" She may or may not say. Thing is, his eye goes to the hot, delicious food, and then he realizes. The hand is still there. Gentle. Almost can't feel it. It's. Why? It's strange. It should hurt. But it didn't. Of course it made sense, but why? Of course it didn't! It was Ellie! And then the realization hits. All in a matter of seconds. Ellie would never lay a harming hand on him. And he felt... He felt.

"You can't eat literally with your eyes, you do know that, do you?" He forgot he was eating. He smiled. And seeing that smile made her smile too. After all, how couldn't she? That wasn't something she saw everyday! Much less in such a sincere way! He was just... smiling at her. Oh she felt so happy! "I'm glad you like those! If you want more just tell me!" Oh wasn't he in the verge of tears? Happy tears! Him! Oh. The realization hitted like a truck. (Or like a ship? What's the equivalent? Idk, like a punch of Louis if you please.) He was cared for. He was loved. There were hands in this world that weren't meant to harm him. He just smiled, fondness burning in his chest like a wildfire because how this woman can change a man via kindness/food.

What is so crazy is that maybe he's just staring lovingly at the lady that cares for him. Because he feels like he's a rock on the boots of the crew most of the time but he's good at what he does so they bare with him. Maybe he feels they don't want him around but... but this lady does. And isn't he gratefull for it? Isn't he so happy she's around? She touches his only arm in such a gentle way? The other won't feel kindness never again, did it ever felt it? Not punches, not grabs, no, just... placing her hand there. Like he isn't an animal with the rabbies but actually a just really fucked up little guy who is terrified of people because people gave him reasons to and barks and bites but is, at the end, very lonely and afraid because he pushed everyone away. Except for this lady. He tried. He bited and barked until he realized she doesn't care, that she alredy saw the scared guy he was and didn't cared. She didn't cared. She cared so much more than anyone that she didn't cared! She wasn't afraid! She wasn't going away! If anything, she sitted closer as time passed. And suddenly, a pet on the head. A so waited, so dreamed, so strange, so scary! Pat on the head. Gentle. Not like those who grabbed him to calm him down and only made him bark and bite with more energy. No. Gentle. It was new. It was nice. But he was afraid. Afraid. How long until she hits? He thinks. But she never hits. She brings him treats. Suspicious. But... not so... Why? It's just that he isn't used to see someone care. But she cares. And she doesn't goes away. And she doesn't turn her back. If anything, only to take the rolls out of the oven!

He doesn't thinks all that in the moment. He just wants. Oh. That felt nice. But was kinda unexpected. It's later at night that he thinks, if his three neurons decide to work. Mayne this is how his complex being feels but his tint neurons don't know how to think. He just loves and cares about the lovely woman that cares and loves back. I need more of them. They mean everything to me at this point factual I'm descending to madness.

AWROROOGOOGGHHHHGGGGG YOUR LOVE FOR TUNA FUELS MY SOULLL!!!! 😭😭THSNKYIUUUUU!!!😭😭💞💞💞💞

[jadkyll]

jade leech -

-likes to think he’s found a kindred spirit.

you both playing this little, game every time you grace the monstro lounge with your presence.

the tea game, he muses to himself one day.

sitting you down in a cicular booth facing the giant aquarium, jade would hand you a small, black leather menu and the monstro’s signature plum leather menu. both having gold dipped edged you’d use to peel them open and look at their insides.

the smaller menu, the one you would only get and your friends would crowd around you once it was in your hands, trying to peer inside at it’s secrets- was a special menu.

a secret one.

only jade and azul had the authority to give out these menus- floyd showing time and time again that he’d hand them out just to screw with the two, had his privileges revoked.

it always made jade smile when he’d set down your special meal, your friends eyes lighting up the cool, dim lighting of the resturant. their eyes hubgrily eating up every detail of the dish.

honeyed ham

seasoned sea food boil

shrimp ala- whatever.

while your two friends from heartslabyul were stuck with the ‘surf ‘n turf,’ you were out here eating like a king.

jade’s quick, gloved hands ready to slap away any sticky fingers- paws that tried eating from your plate. his plate.

jade could care less about the roasted lamb, or the fish heads packed with flavors.

your relationship blossomed from tea. the leaves that jade would expertly mix and seep into a perfect blend for each customer. his own inventions being placed on the secret menu, or promotions for a monstro event that had the customers vying for more.

jade would watch with a baited breath as you took a sip, lashes fluttering closed so you could focus on your taste buds.

a scrunched face meant you didn’t like it, lifted brows meant you were pleasantly surprised, and when you would swoosh it around your mouth like mouth wash? well, that meant jade had won.

the first few tomes you were at the lounge you would order a different tea and a light snack- sometimes a salad and other times 3 whole crabs for you and grim. jade remembers that day, when it was you 5 in a booth, very clearly.

have you heard about the joke where you, grim, and 3 crabs walked into a bar?

besides the point-

jade was watching you scan the menu, a stink on your face as you were stuck on the teas.

he remembers floyd calling you ‘weird’ when jade brought the order to the kitchen. ‘who orders tea with crab?’ his face contorted in disgust as a minnow swims around floyd. he always had a way of bending his environments to his will.

but jade just stares at the ticket, “yes,” he says, “how weird indeed”

“oi get that creepy smile off yer face. yer creep’n me out”

as usual jade seeps your tea and you drink it. he knows you. your tea.

there’s something so intimate about knowing exactly how someone likes their tea that gives jade satisfaction.

you put your trust in his hands. his cynical, conniving hands.

he could spit in your tea ya know. he’s done it before to especially annoying customers. who think they’re in control because he’s serving them. mix up with a pinch of salt, or a dash of sriracha sauce and he’s grinning ear to ear as they down it.

oh lovely.

—

but he’d never do that to you.. he hopes he doesn’t have to.

it takes you 3 visits and a menu change to finally convince azul to let you in on the monstro’s little secret.

jade, as he brags, harassed azul to put more teas on the menu. when he did add 2 more jade deemed it, ‘not good enough.’ azul buying into it (for profit) added teas to the daily specials.

“not good enough. i have an audience to apease and you are stifling my creative endeavors. i will not tolerate such a-“

“just give her the menu jade! sevens above!-“

if jade leech ever did skip, he’d be on his way with a heel click.

so you can obviously imagine his grin as he places the leather book in your mitts, your friends asking where theirs is- only to get ignored.

“please do not share the contents inside with other parties. this is strictly for our monstro vip’s and will be confiscated if you cannot follow our rules.” he bows in thanks as you voice your agreement.

turning his heel he can practically hear the chaos ensuing as your friends try reaching and peeking.

“tropical darljeeng, wonder how’ll it’ll work” you grin as jade jots down your order. you had told him to give you whatever he wanted to give you. ‘dealers choice’ to be more specific.

…what jade won’t ever tell anyone is that he made that tea thinking of you.

it was a black tea, infused with an opposing flavor. tropical against woody, you and him. a child of the sea and child of the land. never meant to work and mix yet has a unique addicting flavor to it.

non tea enjoyers would know that darjeeling is more… robust.

it can turn off people just from the description- tropical tea with a black tea?? are you nuts?!

yes. yes he is.

so jade is pleasantly surprised when you ask him for another cup the moment you took a sip…

he leaves his number under the tea mug, and gets a text an hour later.

[written-in-flowers]

Be the Light: Pt. 4 (SeongjoongxFem!reader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.

Word Count: 8k

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

AU: historical!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @tunaasan @lelaleleb @sevngmin148 @meljoongiee @puppyminnnie @sunasmoke22 @kyourixr @yoongiigolden @lynnsqueendom @atinycafe @soocore @ethereally-lyann @blackbutterfly133 @ddaeing @pearltinyy @iweirdthingsblog @huachengsbestie01 @glintneon123

And a huge, huge thanks to my beta @daesukiii !!! Without them, this wouldn't be as good lol

Part 3 &lt;; | > Part 5

***

A large crowd gathered at the pavilion in the middle of the lake. A man-made island, the tall white and red structure was usually the site for banquets, where the ruling monarch entertained guests. The only way on or off was the bridge crossing over the lake around the island, which fit three to four people abreast. Sookmyung’s palanquin barely fit through it, which meant you trailed behind the footmen carrying her across. Several nobles dressed in their finery turned their heads as their queen approached. Nobody cared about the handmaiden coming up behind her. 

"Announcing," the herald cried as his men drummed and blew their horns, "Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong, Duchess of Gyeonggi-do, and Protector of Korea."

The people bowed to her as she reached the pavilion steps, smiling proudly at them. You hurried to fix her long red and gold train before she noticed the wrinkles, and then followed a few feet away. All eyes remained on her until she reached the place of honor at a long table. Usually the royal advisors would be attending a function like this, hoping to put forward their own sons as suitors for the young queen. Yet, when you looked around, you saw not a single one in attendance. You supposed they may come later in the evening; they had important work to do. You did not see Queen Jisoo either, which you found odd considering she arranged this gathering. Sookmyung took her place amongst fellow ladies of the court, and you began serving her a small plate of food. 

"I'm not hungry," she told you right when you set it in front of her. "Bring me wine. I'm parched."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

It was the sort of royal gathering you expected: lords and ladies enjoying a rich spread of food and drinks, listening to musicians play and catching glances of the fish and birds around the scenic lake. You stood in the shadows behind Sookmyung most of the time, only approaching when she called for you. Seeing the other ladies in their silk and satin hanboks, their hair done up in expensive adornments and wearing fine jewelry on their wrists and fingers, you imagined yourself amongst them. You could sip fine wine while talking to other court ladies about who is courting who. You can flirt and dance with handsome lords all vying for your attention. But, that can only be a dream. 

You're nobody. You're a servant, a slave. You are not meant to have dreams at all. 

"It seems the old woman was right after all."

You felt a presence shift on your left and you turned to see a man dressed in black and gold standing nearby. You knew by his high voice and long hair that it was Hongjoong. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach at the sight of him so close to you. Out of all her flowers, Hongjoong is the one you’re forbidden to speak with. Immediately, you turned away from him. You knew better than to talk to her flowers. If she caught you, she'd lock you in her dungeon for sure. You remembered Lady Seulgi, and shuddered. Yet, Hongjoong did not leave your side. 

"Don't worry, I convinced one of the ladies to keep her occupied," he told you. You did not respond to him, too afraid your voice may carry to Sookmyung a few feet away. "You truly are frightened of her, aren't you?" 

You still did not speak, despite the urge to engage in the conversation. Hongjoong radiated a security and comfort not very common in people. Yet, Sookmyung’s presence kept your lips sealed together. What if there's a change in songs and she hears a whisper of conversation? What if she happens to turn around to see you? You tried thinking of a way to leave, but nothing came to mind. 

"You shouldn't be here," you muttered to him under the wave of music and chatter. "She is meant to be searching for a husband. If you’re here, she will be too distracted." And if she does not choose a husband by the end, Jisoo shall choose for her and that can only end badly. "I suggest you scurry off before she sees you."

"But why would I leave a party I was invited to?" He asked amusedly. 

"You were invited?"

"Yes, by Jisoo."

"Why would she invite you? That defeats the purpose of this entire thing then," you thought out loud. 

"Perhaps The Queen Mother wanted us to entertain someone else," he grinned playfully.

The tips of your ears burned at the grin. "Us?"

"The others came too."

"They didn't announce your arrival. You're supposed to arrive after her."

"I doubt she will complain about it," he said. "She hasn't even noticed we're here yet."

"She will if you keep standing there," you imagined what awful thing she'd do if she caught them here, "You all should leave before she sees you. It'll end badly for you if she does."

"YN," he said fondly, "Always thinking of others and never about yourself."

You turned to look at him, "Your meaning?"

"That you should worry about yourself a bit more," he explained simply. "She might favor you above most at court, or anywhere as a matter of fact, but you're not exempt from the dungeons."  

"That's partly the reason I'm telling you to leave," you hissed. "If she sees us speaking, she'll assume the worst and throw us both in there."

"'Partly'," he repeated. "Well, I have no intention of leaving, and neither do the others. We've been promised an exciting night." 

Another cryptic response. "Do not say you weren't warned. Enjoy the party."

You left his side to refill Sookmyung’s plate. You hoped distracting her with food gave him time to leave, and when you turned to check, he'd gone. 

"YN, tell the singers I hate this song," she told you over her shoulder. "Tell them I want them to play something more jovial, upbeat."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

You moved deftly through the crowd towards the musicians in the corner of the pavilion. That was when you noticed the guards. At most functions, you saw at least three or four, especially at an intimate gathering. Yet, as you walked, you spotted more than four. You saw several: two by the entrance, a man at each corner of the pavilion, three more patrolling the island area and four patrolling the outer banks. They stalked the grounds with swords sheathed on their belts. It unsettled you. Everything about the queen’s banquet seemed off. First, no advisors. Secondly, no Jisoo. Thirdly, concubines and lastly, a strong guard presence. You sensed a disturbance underneath the surface, watching and waiting to strike, and you didn’t know where it’d come from first. 

You reached the band of musicians, and told them Sookmyung’s request, which they obeyed immediately. When you turned around, you saw Wooyoung, San and Yeosang crowded together. Since anyone who values their life won’t speak to them, the three concubines talked to one another instead with drink cups in their hands. Hongjoong mentioned them being promised an exciting night. You wondered what it might be as you made your way back over to Sookmyung. Pleased at the change in song, she continued enjoying the company of the other ladies while you stood behind her. You stood by one of the pillars, your stomach growling from hunger and wishing Sookmyung let you leave. Then the herald called out in a booming voice, more drums and horns drowning out the musicians. 

"Announcing, Han Jisoo, Queen Mother of Hanseong."

People stepped aside and bowed as the queen moved through the crowd. You saw your mother pushing her from behind, neither speaking or smiling. However, Jisoo beamed and nodded at people she made eye contact with. Jisoo glowed with a kindness her daughter never inherited. You saw her in her olive green and white hanbok, her hair in a bun with a floral hairpin. She looked like a true queen, particularly when she was in front of Sookmyung, who tried hiding her hateful scowl. 

"Mother," Sookmyung stood, but did not bow, "I am so glad you managed to make it this evening. I thought your health might keep you."

"I wanted to be here to support my lovely daughter,” she said, being wheeled around to a place beside Sookmyung. “This is a very important night for her.”

“If it’s so important,” Sookmyung began when they both sat down, “Then why aren’t the old men here? I thought they’d want to see all their sons and nephews put themselves forward.”

“Don’t fret over them, love,” her mother replied, being served food by Chaewon. “They will be here soon.” She turned her head to see you nearby, and you bowed your head to her. Jisoo gave a look of concern, “YN, you look peckish. When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning, Your Majesty.” 

“But it’s been hours since then,” she said. “Come and eat, child. You’ll pass out if you don’t.”

Sookmyung snorted, “I remember the harvest festival when we were little. YN fainted in front of everybody and fell into a puddle of mud.” 

“A queen doesn’t laugh at the misfortune of others,” Jisoo scolded. “YN, come sit by me and eat.”

“She’s a servant,” Sookmyung argued, “She isn’t supposed to sit here with us.”

“She can because I said so.”

“I am the queen,” she retorted, “And YN listens to only me. YN, you stay where you are. I might have need of you.”

“And I am the Queen Mother,” Jisoo told you, “Come now.”

You looked between the two queens, and then to your mother worriedly. If you disobeyed Sookmyung, you’d receive a harsh scolding later. If you disobeyed Jisoo, you’d be hurting her feelings. Jisoo always seemed to favor you over the other palace servants. She went out of her way to make sure you’re properly cared for; she always offered you space in her home. You stepped forward carefully, and stood at the chair beside Jisoo. Your eyes flitted up to Sookmyung, who stared daggers into your face. By the amount of wine she’ll be having, perhaps she’ll be too drunk to properly punish you. She may even forget this moment if she finds a man she truly likes. Taking the seat, your mother serving you a hefty plate, you knew your hopes were too high. 

"I am sorry you had to witness that argument," Jisoo told you. "It will be the last time you do, I promise."

"It is nothing I am not accustomed to," you told her. You ate a bit of rice with savory meat and chewed quietly. "Sookmyung is very against the idea of marriage. She will not make it easy for you."

"And what about you, YN?"

"Your Majesty?"

"Sookmyung made a fair point, in her own twisted way," she began. "You are a beautiful young woman. You would have your pick of any man you wanted, yet you show no interest in it."

"I am far too busy to think about such things," you said. "The Queen takes up a good amount of my time."

'Sookmyung will never let me marry unless she chose them herself.'

"That's preposterous," she scoffed. She took a sip of tea your mother poured for her, and said, “Sookmyung has plenty of other handmaidens. Surely, she can tolerate them long enough for you to pursue any interests you may have.” She then gave a sly smirk, “You might even find someone favorable tonight.”

“Your Majesty, please,” you giggled with hot cheeks, “These are all men of nobility. Their families would never accept it even if a man did want me.” 

You didn’t dare mention they’ll likely take you as a concubine rather than a wife. 

“That may change after tonight.” Her eyes lit up when she spotted someone in the crowd, “Hongjoong looks particularly handsome tonight, don’t you think?”

“What?” You searched the crowd around to find him standing with Seonghwa and Yunho, the three men in deep discussion together. “Um, well, I suppose he does.”

“You suppose?” she furrowed her brow. “Put aside your fears for a moment, YN, and tell me what you truly think of him.” 

Your eyes finally met hers, seeing the sincerity in them, and you looked back at Hongjoong. While you both rarely spoke directly, he still showed care for you. Yesterday, he’d occupied Sookmyung for the day so you may spend time with your mother. He’d taken your place in the torture chambers, so you can sleep free of nightmares. Hongjoong might fear Sookmyung’s wrath like anyone else, but that seemed to fade in your presence. You knew the face underneath that veil: the short narrow nose, the prominence of his cheeks and soft lips. He’d been a prince once, and he still looked the part even now. He must’ve felt your stare, because his eyes glanced over to you and the room suddenly became warm. Seeing him there, you wished you could speak to him again. 

“He is everything a prince should be,” you whispered, not concerned if she heard you or not. “He is the sort of man you hear about in stories and songs: a chivalrous, courageous prince who comes to save the day. Even if we don’t speak, he shows his concern and care in different ways.” 

“If we speak technically, he is a king,” she noted. “His father is dead. His family is dead. Anyone with a claim to Wonju’s throne is deceased apart from himself.”

“Which is the precise reason Sookmyung covets him so much. She will never release him.”

“Let us not speak of the future as a fact,” she ate a few vegetables from her stew, and said. “The future can change in a single minute.”

“You speak as if you know something I do not,” you didn’t realize how accusatory that sounded until you’d said it. “Forgive me-”

“-Perhaps I do, little YN,” she smiled serenely, “Perhaps I do.” 

Drums sounded from the pavilion entrance, and the herald called out, “Chief Senior Advisor Choi Wonshik, with Advisors Kim Heechul, Park Taeyong, Do Daewook, and Jung Junhan.” 

All five of Sookmyung’s advisors walked into the pavilion to more head bowing. Wonshik walked ahead of them to Sookmyung’s table, and gave her a bow. 

“Senior Advisor,” Sookmyung said, “I am glad to see you.”

“I wish I could say the same, Your Majesty.”

The people sitting at Sookmyung’s table fell silent at once, even with the music continuing to play onwards. She kept her eyes directly on the elder, that familiar dislike showing on her face. You feared what might happen next. 

“What did you say?” she drawled, hands slowly curling into fists. 

“The council and I have been in discussion for some time,” he informed her. You saw the other advisors' stiff lips and stern faces. “We have argued back and forth and back and forth on this issue for several days, and finally we have all come to an agreement.”

“This is not the place to discuss politics, Advisor,” she said. “I am in the middle of a banquet, if you have not noticed.”

“I’m afraid this news cannot wait any longer. Han Sookmyung, by power invested in us by the people of Korea and The Crown, the Royal Council and I have declared you unfit to rule and have decided to strip you of your titles and crown.”

Sookmyung immediately shot up from her seat. Now, they had the full attention of everyone in the room. Every nerve in your body froze, and you braced yourself for what would happen next. 

“You cannot do that!” she howled. “I am the queen-”

“-Any fool who has to keep saying she is the queen is not a true queen,” Wonshik continued, unbothered by her temper. “As Master of Law, I will give Advisor Do the floor-”

“-You old bastards! I am part of the monarchy. I am a queen. You cannot arrest or depose me without just cause-”

“-According to paragraph three in section C3 of the Bill of Laws,” Advisor Do spoke, fixing the spectacles on his nose, “A monarch may be incarcerated if there is sufficient evidence that said monarch has committed crimes against the people. During your conquest across Korea, there are witness testimonies and hard evidence to prove Your Majesty committed several war crimes-”

“-You have no proof-”

“-These war crimes include,” he withdrew a scroll and he read out loud, “Intentional destruction and appropriation of property not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully. Intentional attacks against civilian populations. The torture and subsequent murder of prisoners of war; the taking of and enslavement of hostages. The murder of combatants who’d laid down their arms or have no means of further defense-”

“-These don’t apply to me! I am the ruler! I decide-”

“-The penalty for these crimes is the immediate removal from office, as well as stripped of all lands and titles-”

“-I decide what laws go into place! I decided who is charged and who isn’t-”

“-The Royal Council decides which laws are passed,” Wonshik intervened. “Your grandfather put this into practice before you were born, and it still stands today. Your Majesty was always welcome to take her place on the council and come to terms with us, but you felt that beneath you. Due to the crimes Advisor Do has just read, Her Majesty, Queen Sookmyung, shall be placed under arrest-”

“-What?!-”

“-Until such time as she is tried in a court of law and properly sentenced-”

The guards you’d seen before came forward to Sookmyung’s seat. She looked at Wonshik, unafraid of the men coming her way, “I am the queen. I am King Siwon’s only heir. Who could you possibly replace me with?”

“That is easily resolved.” It was Jisoo who spoke, and Sookmyung rounded on her. 

“How? What, you will sit on my throne? You are the King’s widow. You have no right or claim to my throne.”

“I might not, but your sister does.”

“My sister?” she asked in disbelief, “What sister? I have no sister!”

Chaewon turned Jisoo to face her daughter, “Yes, you do. Your father and I kept this information from court to avoid a succession crisis upon his death. But, seeing what you’ve become and the violence and destruction you’ve dealt out, I think it was a mistake to keep her hidden this entire time.”

“Who is she?” she glared at Jisoo, and you worried she might hit her. “Where is she? I’ll run her through!” She grabbed a knife from the table, and held it out at Jisoo. Sookmyung began looking about the room as if she expected this secret heir to appear from the shadows. “Who is she? Who?!” The guards drew out their own swords, ready to fight if she resisted. You remembered all those years in the training yard. Sookmyung is far too good with weapons for one’s liking. Jisoo, however, was not afraid of the blade in front of her. “Where is she, you snake?!”

“She’s right behind me,” Jisoo shrugged. 

A gasp escaped your throat, and Sookmyung turned to you. Nervously, you searched for anyone behind you but you quickly realized she meant you. You looked over to your mother. 

“Mother?”

“YN?” Sookmyung spoke before your mother, and said, “That’s ridiculous! YN is a lowly servant’s daughter. She’s not a princess, let alone a queen. If she was my twin sister, she’d look like me.”

“You’re fraternal twins,” Jisoo explained. 

“Fraternal…” she breathed out the word, her eyes landing on you. “Why…Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know!” you squeaked. “I swear, Your Majesty, I didn’t know! I am as surprised as you!” 

And equally embarrassed. All eyes landed on you once the words were spoken, and you wanted to run and hide. Everyone stood in complete shock and awe. You saw some people whispering behind their hands, and others awkwardly looking away from you. 

“Liar!”

“Guards!”

Sookmyung lunged for you, knife raised in the air, before a guard stood in her way. Her eyes never left yours. Nothing but scorching hate burned within her brown eyes, that primal need to unleash her fury making her more and more desperate to reach you. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears, and you couldn’t stop your feet from taking you backwards. You’d walk all the way to the city and beyond if nobody stopped you. 

“YN…” 

His voice, low and deep, reached you right as your back bumped into his front. Seonghwa. You knew from the voice alone. Warm hands squeeze your biceps tenderly to keep you in place. 

“You little bitch!” Sookmyung screeched, “I will get you! I will get all of you! You will rue the day you tried taking my crown from me!”

Two guards took her by the arms, but they did not act quickly enough. Sookmyung pushed one of them away, and unsheathed the dagger from his belt. Stabbing it into his chest, panic went throughout the room as Sookmyung shoved him to the floor and turned on his comrade. Seonghwa stood in front of you, so you only heard the commotion going on several feet away from you. 

“Seonghwa, get YN out of here,” Jisoo ordered. 

“Come, YN.” 

He took your arm and started leading you away. You looked over your shoulder to see Sookmyung’s wig casted onto the floor and the overcoat of her hanbok discarded onto the ground. In the distance, you saw Sookmyung fighting off guards with a stolen sword. You’d never seen her in battle, but you’d seen her in the training yard in her youth. Sookmyung cut through men easily, using her hands and feet to keep them back. Then, you realized some of the guards did not fight her, but rather aided her. Soldiers fought as Sookmyung made her way out of the pavilion. When a lord tried stopping her, one of the guards cut him down to give her a clear path. As you ran across the bridge leading to the south, Sookmyung ran to the one leading towards the north where she fought men guarding the lake side. Seonghwa lifted you up onto a horse awaiting you by the bridge, and Sookmyung had the same idea on the opposite side. You gasped audibly when she stabbed the rider and took his steade. 

As you began riding with Seonghwa, you worried Sookmyung might chase after you. Everything in your body turned numb, and the only thing you felt was fear. You listened for more clopping hooves, and faint threats carrying through the air. You expected her to pull up beside you, sword in her hand, and the blade swishing at you and Seonghwa. Yet, as you crossed over another bridge to the southern part of the palace grounds, you realized she must’ve retreated. 

“We’ve been betrayed,” you heard Seonghwa curse to himself. “They said they’d be on our side.” 

“Seonghwa, what’s going on?” you asked him. 

He didn’t answer you, but instead rode towards the concubine residency. No guards stood at their posts nor any servants lingering nearby. Seonghwa dismounted first, then helped you off the horse before leading you into the house. Once you both entered the main room of the house, it felt as if the world was shut out. You walked into the middle of the room, replaying the events in your head. 

You’re a princess? Impossible. King Siwon could not be your father. Park Hyungshik had been your father. He’d been a stablemaster, handling the King’s horses for him. He’d died from pestilence when you were twelve, the sickness nearly taking your life as well before you recovered. Queen Jisoo could not be your real mother. Park Chaewon was. She’d nursed you in infancy, cared for you and loved you unconditionally. It sounded insane. If you were a princess, then you would’ve worn crowns and worn pretty dresses and danced with handsome lords. Not standing by Sookmyung’s side as she tortured and murdered people. 

“YN?” Seonghwa’s voice couldn’t pull you from your thoughts. 

King Siwon separated you to avoid a succession dispute? Why would there be one? If you and Sookmyung were twins, surely the council would have chosen the elder over the younger. Then, you remembered the crimes the council charged Sookmyung with and understood.

You studied the law and judicial system more than Sookmyung did. Everything Advisor Choi and Advisor Do said was true. The council had the power to remove the current monarch if they had just cause, and in Sookmyung’s case, they certainly had one. Hearing her crimes be listed out loud brought them into perspective for you. She’d raped, tortured, and killed so many people. She’d put entire villages to the torch, spreading fear and oppression throughout the kingdom. She continued to harm her subjects through her high taxation on the poor, causing many of them to go hungry or turn to unsavory means to avoid it. You’d hoped one day she may be stopped, but you never imagined yourself taking her place. 

“YN,” Seonghwa called to you again, coming up behind you, “Are you alright?”

“No,” you answered. Sookmyung will not let this ‘betrayal’ stand. She will come for you and anyone else involved in this coupe. “Where did she go? Did you see where she went?”

“She was running towards the northern gates,” he said. “I imagine she plans to escape that way, and if what I suspect is true, she’ll manage to get out of the city by the morning.” 

You looked out a nearby window to see the sun already setting. Footmen already lit the braziers around the grounds, and you saw lights inside the various buildings being lit. You did not have a view of the pavilion from the garden house, but you saw floods of lords and ladies being escorted by their retainers off the premises. Several palace guards moved quickly throughout the grounds, hands on their swords as they searched for the runaway queen. No doubt they’ll set up groups of men to go into the city soon. That won’t stop Sookmyung. She’ll find her way back into the palace, and if she had help, she’d find you for sure. 

“She’ll find me,” you said, keeping the trembling out of your voice. “She’ll find me, torture me and then kill me.”

“No, she won’t,” he assured you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t let her.”

“As if that would stop her,” you rolled your eyes. Watching men moving past the house, you pictured her lying in wait in the bushes. You saw her waiting until dark to sneak into your bedroom, and plunge a knife in your throat. “She’ll never give up. Never. When she manages to get her throne back, she’ll punish every single person she deems responsible for this. It is stupid. It is foolish and in vain.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he said. Gingerly, he turned you to face him and you tensed in his embrace. Thoughts of Sookmyung’s fury made you step away from his touch. “She is not the queen anymore,” he told you, sensing your hesitancy, “She holds no power.”

“Yes, she does,” you told him. “Just because the council has dethroned her does not mean the people outside these walls know of this. It will take days to inform the dukes of the other cities, and by then, Sookmyung will have likely sought refuge with one of them. There may even be a simple farming family who shelters her because they’re under the impression she is queen.” You envisioned the very scenario, and it only ended with blood and tears. “Nobody is going to accept a new queen, especially one who was the former queen’s handmaiden. I mean..” you took a deep breath, “I am no queen. I am not royalty. I am a small, simple woman who walks next to palanquins and serves other people and takes care of everyone and everything and-”

“-You may not have been raised as a royal, but you are one,” Seonghwa interrupted you. “Word will spread after tonight. It is why the council confronted her in front of the entire court instead of somewhere private. People like to talk, and they’ll talk about how Sookmyung was deposed and her handmaiden is actually her secret sister.” 

“And they will say that I am not a queen and will likely try to put someone else in my place.”

“The only people who can truly make that decision are the advisors,” he said, “Nobody else.” 

He stepped forward again, his hand sliding across your jaw and cupping it. Sookmyung would’ve flogged you both for such a gesture. When you tried moving away, he kept you still. 

“The people may not know you, but I do,” he began. “You are a kind, generous, compassionate person. You sympathize and empathize with others. You always try to do what is right and protect as many people as you can.”

“I cannot protect anyone.”

“You’ve tried, and that counts. The other servants used to talk about how you maneuvered Sookmyung’s anger to keep her from harming others-”

“-I wasn’t always successful,” you admitted sheepishly. “She could be hard to handle when she is seriously upset.”

“But you managed. Also, it isn’t as if you’re a complete fool. You can read, write and do arithmetic. You know the politics, the law, and culture.” He gave a soft smile, “You should not doubt yourself so much. You are capable of great things, YN, and you’ll have people there to guide you along the way.”

You shook your head and moved away from him and the window. “No, no, this is insane,” you kept shaking your head, “There’s no way. This must be a trick or a joke.”

“Why would it be a trick?”

“Sookmyung likes to play games. This would just be another elaborate game for her to play on me,” you nervously wiped your palms on your skirt, “She’ll come back, laugh at me for reacting this way, and then tell me that ever dreaming of being more than what I am is pointless. It is the sort of thing she’d do. Yes, and being one of her ���flowers’, you’d be forced to be in on the game.”

“YN, this is not a trick or a game. You truly are Jisoo and Siwon’s child; you are an heir to the Han dynasty-”

“-No, I’m not. No. I’m not falling for it,” you crossed your arms and plopped down onto a sofa. “I’ll sit here and wait for her to come and laugh at me like she always does.”

“YN-”

“-YN!” 

Your mother came rushing into the house, her footsteps thumping lightly until she reached the beaded curtain. She saw you sitting on the sofa and gave a sigh of relief. 

“YN, there you are!”

She knelt in front of you, cradling your face and checking for any injuries. You looked at her. You truly looked at her now. You tried finding a scrap of yourself in her face; you thought about your father’s face and did not find resemblance there either. Not in the nose, eyes, lips, ears, cheeks, neck, or body. Nothing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked her softly. “Why didn’t you tell me that Queen Jisoo was my real mother and not you?”

Chaewon’s eyes filled with guilt. Her shoulders sagged and she stopped touching you. You saw the conflict going on in her mind, a struggle between honesty and lies. She sat beside you on the sofa, and held your hand gently. 

“I think that is a conversation for later,” she told you. “A lot of things have happened very quickly, and you must be very confused right now.”

“Exactly, so please explain the first part to me: how can I be a daughter of King Siwon, and not know it until this very day?” you demanded. 

Chaewon looked over at Seonghwa, the discomfort clear on her face. She stayed silent for a moment before she said, “Because we didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“The Queen and I,” she answered. “Well, us two, Siwon, and Wonshik. Like what Jisoo said, Siwon had seen kingdoms be torn apart by a dispute over succession and he knew having two twin daughters may cause that. He’d planned to send you far away into the countryside where nobody would see you, but Jisoo pleaded for you to stay in the palace.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t want to be away from you. She wanted to see her daughters grow up together.” 

“Why did she pick you?”

“Because she and I have been together since our girlhood in Daegu,” she explained. “We both suffered from similar fertility issues after our marriages: she had a delicate womb; Hyungshik did not produce enough sperm for a pregnancy. When you and Sookmyung were born, and Siwon declared there can only be one, she offered you to me.” Your mother smiled warmly, taking both your hands in hers, “And Hyungshik and I loved you as if you were ours all along. The moment I held you in my arms, YN, I felt as if you were meant to be mine. It was as if the gods intended on giving you to me."

"You could have told me at any time."

"And what good would it have done then?"

"That perhaps we might not be in this situation at all," you reasoned. "The king and queen both saw what kind of person Sookmyung was; they saw her viciousness and callousness and still allowed her to be queen.”

“They believed she may grow out of it-”

“-Grow out of it?” you huffed. “What could possibly make them think that? Sookmyung used to chase around the palace cats and hang them from trees. She used to start fires in the stables and tormented her nurse. She only started paying attention in studies when she was told she’d be the queen one day. Do you know why she wanted to train in the yard with the men? Hm, do you?” you couldn’t keep the anger from rising in your voice. “Because then she’d learn how to kill people. She’d learn how to hurt people in the most efficient way. It did not occur to them then that perhaps their eldest child is not fit for rule? All this pain and torture and murder could have been prevented if her parents stepped out of their delusion and saw her as she truly was.”

You pictured every person Sookmyung ever tortured. Their faces haunted your dreams and kept you awake some nights. The stench of blood, bile, and other fluids clung to your nose even when outside the dungeons. They did not know. Her family never knew her true nature. Queen Jisoo might’ve suspected or been told by others, but she’d never seen it. You’d seen everything. You shut your eyes as visions of men being impaled on pikes across a battlefield came to you.

“No parent ever wants to admit their child’s faults,” your mother told you gently. “It was not until she came into rule that Queen Jisoo saw her daughter for who she is.”

“Someone should have said something,” you said, “Someone should have told me.”

“To tell you would be telling Sookmyung,” she soothed you, running your braid through her hands delicately. “You saw what she did to the other claimants. I never thought…YN, you must believe me, I never thought this day would come.”

“Did you ever plan on telling me? Ever?”

“Your father wanted to tell you,” she admitted, “When he was dying. We both thought you’d join him, so he wanted you to know the truth, but I disagreed. I feared telling you the truth would worsen your condition at the time.”

“I feel it now regardless of my health.”

“I know, and I do not expect you to forgive me right away. I only want you to know that I did this for your safety. Even if they did not want to admit it, I knew Sookmyung as well. If she learned you were her sister, she would’ve tried killing you at some point, and she proved that today.” 

Because she believed you’d betrayed her. The room felt hot. You realized then Seonghwa still stood nearby, listening even if he pretended otherwise.  

“Please, you must understand,” your mother pleaded. “We did what we thought was best at the time. None of us knew what Sookmyung would turn out to be later on in life, but we knew if Siwon died and had two heirs instead of one, things could be ugly very quickly.”

“Obviously it would have been Sookmyung. She was the elder of the two of us.”

“But anyone who saw her grow up would’ve petitioned to have you take her place,” she said. “Purists would say Sookmyung is the rightful heir, and Realists would say you are the appropriate heir. It would’ve caused chaos and uncertainty. It’d been during a very tremulous time in the kingdom: we’d recently gotten out of a war with a nearby nation, and were recovering from the financial losses. Siwon did not want to see his kingdom plunged into war.”

“And look how that turned out,” you said, playing with the red threaded ornament attached to your hanbok. On the red loop was a golden medallion with a crane etched into it. Sookmyung gifted it to you after her first victory. “It led to Sookmyung creating her own war in an attempt to seize control of the entire country; power and control she already had as the ruling monarch. It left us in a country depleted of hope and peace led by a madwoman who pulled out fingernails for fun.”

“We admit that we made a mistake,” Chaewon answered, “You’re right. We should never have lied to you. It is something we both deeply regret.”

“Yes, particularly in light of recent events.”

Your mother put her hand on yours, grasping the ornament. “We know it will take time for you to fully soak all of this in, so we do not expect immediate forgiveness from you. But, I want you to know that even if I didn’t carry you myself,” her hands went around yours, “I still love you as if I did. The moment you opened your eyes, YN, I knew you were mine.”

“Would you have told me?”

“If circumstances had been different, I would have.” 

You had difficulty believing her. If she lied about this, what else is she lying about? 

“YN, are you alright?” 

It was Jisoo, followed by Wonshik and the other advisors, all of them concerned. You turned from your hiding space to see them all standing by the door, watching you from afar. When you saw Jisoo, you couldn’t see her being your mother either. The only traces captured in her features was Sookmyung, her trueborn daughter. Then, you thought back to King Siwon. He’d stood lean and broad even in his old age. Thinking back to the warm, wrinkled face that always smiled at you, you saw yourself. You saw bits and pieces of yourself in that face. 

“I look more like him,” you said without thinking. 

She nodded, “Yes, you do. I used to tell him that whenever I saw you both together.” She wheeled herself closer to you, “Forgive me, YN. I did not want to keep this from you, but my husband forbade it. You must understand we did this to prevent war and-”

“-Sookmyung brought war and devastation on us,” you argued with her. “I don’t see how keeping my birth a secret prevented anything. If anything, it has made things worse.” 

“Yes, we see our mistakes now,” she faltered. “I’d seen it for a long time, but not Siwon. He had trouble admitting that he’d made a mistake in separating you both. I wanted to tell you, YN. We should have told you, and dealt with the consequences afterwards. This is the time to correct those mistakes.”

“You told Hongjoong and I that the other dukes would be on our side,” Seonghwa stepped in, looking at Wonshik. “I am not sure if you noticed, a few of them took up arms against us instead of with us.”

“Yes, it appears we’d been betrayed,” Wonshik nodded. “Sookmyung might’ve already known a coupe would be staged, but the shock of YN being her sister distracted her long enough for us to act.”

“Do we know who went over?”

“The Dukes of Daegu, Gongju, and Ulleungdo, as well as their bannermen,” Advisor Jung, a stern looking man with a balding head and long mustache and beard, spoke up. “I told Wonshik that trusting Daegu and Gongju would be a mistake. They benefited the most when Sookmyung took power, and know their continued wealth counts on her being on the throne. Ulleungdo was a surprise, though. They typically stay out of wars.”

“The son of Ulleungdo recently married the duchess of Daegu,” Jisoo told him. “They will need a proper fleet, and Ulleungdo has dozens of longships.”

“How did they find out?” exclaimed Advisor Heechul, a rotund man with salt-and-pepper hair. 

“Why don’t we discuss this tomorrow, gentlemen?” Jisoo intervened. “Her Majesty has learned far too much too quickly. She needs time to process these new changes.”

“It is important to act now, Your Majesty…”

‘Her Majesty’. They meant you when they said this. Not Sookmyung. Despite all the little fantasies you had, you never believed it would happen. You couldn’t possibly be a real princess, but the longer you sat there amongst these people, it sounded more plausible. It explained why the king and queen treated you so well. You saw the other servant girls learning practical skills such as cooking, sewing, cleaning and washing. You sat beside Sookmyung learning languages, geography, arithmetic, philosophy, and culture. You’d never cooked anything before or needed to sew. It was the other household servants who did that; you merely managed them. King Siwon showed particular interest in you. He even called you affectionate pet names. 

‘How is our little blossom today?’

‘Don’t wander too deep into the forest, okay sunshine? We don’t want you and Sookmyung getting lost.’ 

Queen Jisoo showed you nothing but kindness and concern. She appeared happier when she saw you in comparison to when she saw Sookmyung. You must be special to them, and what other reason do they have outside of being their child? You felt yourself stand up from the sofa, and begin walking away. They want to make you a queen. Your feet carried you throughout the harem, bypassing bedrooms and sitting rooms until you reached the outdoor veranda over the garden pond. Night time came over the garden fully, with the lit lanterns resembling stars amongst the dark trees and bushes. 

You spent your whole life believing Chaewon and Hyungshik were your parents. If you’d learned you’d been adopted from an orphanage or given to them by relatives, you might understand it better. You may not feel so bad. But learning your birth parents are a king and queen, and you are a princess worsened the shock. You gripped the wooden railing tightly, your fingers pressing into the painted wood as you imagined Sookmyung learning of this. It stunned her, and angered her like most surprises had done. You knew Jisoo and your mother were right: if you’d grown up as sisters, you wouldn’t be standing here. But, then you’d have grown up prepared to ascend the throne. 

“YN?” you recognized Seonghwa’s voice again, but felt nothing for it. 

You did not know the first thing about being a monarch. Yes, you might have come up with solutions to problems you heard from citizens, but you had no power to carry them out. You didn’t understand politics or diplomacy or sword fighting like Sookmyung did. You are a servant, a follower of people higher than you; you’re not a queen. You’re not a leader. 

“YN,” he took light steps over towards you, “I know this is far too much to take in at the moment. You must be so confused. I’ll admit, I felt the same when the Queen Mother and Advisor Wonshik told me of their plan.”

“Why would they tell you?”

“Well, I suspect they hoped I’d be of some use to them,” he stood beside you and looked out over the water. “My father was Park Jiwoon. He was the Senior Advisor to The Duke of Haeju for years. Before Sookmyung killed the ruling family and installed loyal lackeys to the seat, my father counseled the duke in all manner of politics. My father was brilliant. It’d been him who’d suggested that it be a council that makes the laws alongside the duke, instead of giving the monarch ultimate power."

He saw your worried expression. Your eyes fell closed when he gently touched your cheek, and made you look at him. He's beautiful. Undeniably beautiful. Round eyes gazed into yours lovingly, glancing down to your lips before looking back up. He was Sookmyung's, you thought. He's hers. Not yours. None of them could ever truly be yours. Especially not Seonghwa or Hongjoong. His thumb brushed your cheekbone, and he stood closer to you before the sound of wheels running over wood broke you apart.

Jisoo appeared with your mother. They both stopped when they saw you and Seonghwa alone. Neither woman said anything, and Seonghwa bowed his head.

"I must go speak with the advisors," he said. He gave you one more fleeting look, "Goodnight, Your Majesty."

It was when he'd gone out of earshot that you said, "I've only been a monarch for less than an hour and I already hate that. I'm not a queen."

"This is our chance to make things right," Jisoo said, continuing your conversation from inside. "The people need a leader who is compassionate, generous and caring. They need someone who understands their struggles, and would do their best to relieve them. You are that someone, YN, whether you believe it or not. There is a reason I ordered you to be tutored alongside Sookmyung.”

“I hardly remember any of those lessons now," you scoffed. "They weren’t important to me-”

“-Name the five major clans of Korea.”

“What?” you finally looked over at her. 

“Name the five major clans,” she repeated. “There is the royal family, the Han clan. Who are the other four?”

“Kim, Park, Choi and Jung,” you answered. 

“Han controls the middle plain region,” she said, coming up beside you, “Who controls the west, east, north, and south?”

“Kim controls the west, Choi controls the east, Park controls the south, and Jung is in the north.”

“What are their principal exports?”

“Clan Kim is famous for their gem and gold mines, as well as their silk and cloth fields,” you said. “Clan Choi are known for their expansive seafood industry, while Clan Park send spices and wines from their vineyards and fields in the south. Jung sends lumber, paper and stone blocks for building.”

“Sookmyung did not know that.”

“Of course she did.”

“She pretended to know,” Jisoo informed you. “I knew that because she never attended council meetings. Sookmyung only went to meetings when it concerned her money or her power. She did not know how to bring peace to people, or how to maintain it. I think you can do it.”

“I know you can do it,” your mother said, coming up beside you at the railing. When you did not reply, she continued, “You do not need to make a decision tonight-”

“-Chaewon-” Jisoo said incredulously, but your mother ignored her. 

“-Take your time with this. It is a big decision and there are more to come.” She put her arm around your shoulders and hugged you, “Let us take this one day at a time, hm?”

“I’d like that.”

You allowed her arms to comfort you as they’d done your entire life. Basking in the warmth and scent of her, you could not find it in you to think anymore. Jisoo decided you’d stay in the harem where there’d be plenty of people to watch over you until Sookmyung is apprehended. You couldn’t find it in you to care. Seonghwa offered you his chambers for the night, but you politely declined. You took the spare room, which was oddly untouched by anyone else. You undressed yourself, thinking about what you would be doing now if nothing happened. You’d be undressing Sookmyung instead, and leaving her in a warm bath while you turned down her bed. After applying creams and salves to her body, you’d help her into bed and make sure the room remained warm through the night. 

Instead, you stripped to your undergarments and took up the black silk robe left on a chair. Sookmyung’s robe. You recalled every time you slipped it over her shoulders, and tied it because she could not be bothered to dress herself. Tossing it aside, you slid into the bed amongst the soft sheets. Sleep likely will not come, but you’d force it to. If you slept, perhaps when you woke up tomorrow it'd have been a dream. 

An awful, confusing dream.

***

A/N: oooh the drama!! Thanks so much for the support and love you're giving this fic <3 it's my baby lol thanks also for being so patient with these chapters. I'm not going through the best time, but I wanted to put out something for you guys <3 hope you like this one

[lexirosewrites]

Kinda sorta sleeping beauty AU

A!Eddie as a bard whose songs & plays are known throughout the land & for this feat of artistic affluence he is knighted, given a Kings Favor which is a kind of brooch/badge of honor tht means the King will grant him a single wish (which Eddie decides he will cash in at a later date) & tht he's able to travel the kingdom & their allies without fear of being accosted & he is to b welcomed in noble or common homes as an honored guest & to ensure no thieves r able to take it from him the court mages bind the Favor to him so tht if it is ever taken it will appear back upon his person by sunset. So Eddie uses his new allowance from the crown to build his uncle a better home, and once tht is done Eddie feels restless as spring thaws winter. So he hugs his uncle goodbye to set off wandering.

Some months pass, spring has turned to summer & he arrives in the fishing town of Loch Nora. It’s strangely the only town situated along a lake tht is as large as a sea with an island barely visible in the distance due to fog. He is welcomed into the home of the richest family in the town, the Wheelers r merchants who distribute much of the fish caught to many other towns including noble families.

As Eddie explores the town he comes upon an abandoned noble keep with a dagger stabbed into the front doors shining as if new, & when visiting one of the 3 pubs of the town he's told a tale of a noble family tht once oversaw the prosperity & protection of the lake, but the story goes tht some 100 years ago the lord & the only heir left in the night & tht they locked the doors of their great home w a parchment tacked upon the door w the silver dagger tht informed the townspeople they had failed in their duties to the lake & now had to give it their dearest treasures & tht one day a cowardly knight would have to overcome trials & win back their treasures from the waters to claim as his own, tht when this is done the town will know prosperity again. The patrons then speculate abt the gold & jewels likely thrown to the water by the missing lord & heir.

This is how Eddie learns no one has been able to pull the dagger from the door even after the parchment had disintegrated w time, tht the fishermen have been catching fewer & fewer fish in recent decades, tht the water of the lake hasn't nourished crops properly in nearly 5 years, animals they used to hunt in the surrounding woods have seemingly disappeared, while the animals raised within town for food often die from illness suddenly without warning for the last 3 months, & tht since there is no noble family the town receives no allowance from the crown. This troubles Eddie & he's sad to hear this tale of woe especially after confirming the towns troubles w the Wheeler patriarch, he falls asleep tht night wishing to figure out a way to help the townspeople.

Then he is dreaming, he's standing barefoot at the edge of the water under the light of the full moon. He's looking out through fog at the dark outline of the island in the lake, the water is calm but he can see dark shapes too large to b ordinary fish moving under its surface, he looks to his right & finds a small row boat but as he takes a step towards it he realizes the water had surged up around his ankles. Then something is grabbing him & dragging him into the waters, as he thrashes to get away to try to claw his way back to shore he quickly realizes he cannot escape & resolves to fight as this is his dream, there is a sudden weight in his hand & he finds he's brandishing the shining silver dagger of the abandoned keep, then he wakes up in his bed.

The day after his dream he spends probably too much time standing at the front doors of the keep, staring at the dagger, bc without his notice a beta woman is beside him. She asks if he knows the story of the keep & when Eddie says he heard it from the townspeople she laughs. She introduces herself as Robin then says they only know a portion of the tale, tht the whole story is much more interesting, & tht the lord did leave behind his dearest treasure w the lake but memory can get foggy thru the years especially if a story is never written down so they've forgotten exactly what it was the lord considered a treasure. It isn't until Eddie has glanced to the door & back to find Robin gone tht he realizes she said treasure & not treasures.

[Part 1 of 3]

color me intrigued 👀

(link to part two)

[asha-mage]

Randland World Leaders - Do they know the price of a banana apple?

Morgase Trakand - No, but she could get it in the right neighborhood if asked. Understands the economic influences that affect prices and knows roughly where Andor's sit at any given time.

Elayne Trakand - Pre world travels? Not with a gun to her head. She wouldn't give a false guess though, just avoid the question rather then admit ignorance. Post world travels she knows the prices of most common food stuffs for Andor and all of it's immediate neighbors with scary accuracy.

Rand al'Thor - Yes. One of the first things Rand does after taking over Tear is familiarize himself with tax policies and food production and grain trade. He is a farm boy at heart and has Powerful Opinions on cost of living.

Perrin Abyara - Nope. He thinks he does, but in reality he names the price of apples he paid aka, pre adventure. He knows that prices in general have gone up but if you tried to sell him an apple he would get offended when you wouldn't take the same price he paid prior to half a dozen kingdoms going to war, and the endless summer choking out trade. He wouldn't say anything though and just assume you where trying to squeeze a few coins out of him because he's dressed like some 'idiot lord'.

Faile- Yes. She knows exactly the price of apples grown in the Two Rivers and knows that it's out competing the neighboring provinces apples by a good margin. Does this have something to do with her threatening local officials to ensure they don't try to hard to compete with Two Rivers food prices? Maybe, but it's nothing Perrin can prove she did. HE dosen't know the price of apples.

Siuan Sanche - Apples? No. Fish? Yes. Siuan could tell you the price of every fish in the market at Tar Valon and what will be cheaper next month based on yields out of the south. This is not for economic reasons, it's because she still eats fish for 3 meals out of 4.

Berelain - Nope. She has economic advisers who she pays to know that. Her skill and perk points all went into Foreign Policy and Espionage, not Economics.

Alliandre - The price of apples keeps Alliandre up at night staring at her bedroom ceiling, fearing for her life. It turns out having a religious tyrant running rampart around your kingdom burning down farms and causing skyrocketing inflation by assaulting trade routes and exacting inconsistent 'tithes' on merchants will make you VERY familiar with the economic conditions of the common man. Every time the price of apples goes up a silver mark, Alliandre makes her food taster check her meals an extra time.

Tuon - Yes. Always good to know the price of local cyanide containing fruits, just in case.

Elaida - "It's an apple Alviarin? How much can it cost? 10 gold marks?"

[blocksgame]

Orpheus rates DSMP Doomsday prep inventories

(Thanks @irrealisms for screenshots and encouragement!)

Tommy - 9/10. Weapons, ammo, good armor, tactical Lore Fish, enderpearls, food, blocks, trident… you go, funky little man. Could use potions and an e-chest.

Jack Manifold - 7/10. Like he's not tryharding, or he's not tryharding well, but he did bring the important things. The bow looks unenchanted which which 8 arrows is pretty cringe. The shield durability is also cringe but he does have the supplies to make more. Good work, Jack!

Technoblade - 10/10. Who am I to criticize Technoblade's PVP loadout.

Niki - 4/10. Look at her! She made an effort! Good for her. (She wasn't planning on getting in the fighting much, which does help.)

Tubbo - 4/10. He also made an effort! I think the enchanted shield is a nice touch.

Phil - 10/10. Good for him.

Ranboo (+ full enchanted netherite) - 6/10. Most of his points are for bringing weapons and good armor. If he brought anything else useful, he will not be able to find it.

Puffy - 3/10. What are you doing, Puffy. (Apparently she was explicitly not bringing her good armor to the fight, which is sensible and fair enough.)

Ghostbur - 2/10. One point has been awarded for Blue. After haranguing, one additional point has been awarded for Charm.

I know he didn't know there was a war on, but the thing is, this is also a garbage inventory for anything at all, including building or hanging out. I don't think you tried at all, Ghostbur. I love you.

Fundy - 6/10 if the bow doesn't have infinity, 7/10 if it does.

Eret (+ iirc full netherite armor) - 8/10. Yeah you thought this one through! Go Eret!

Quackity - 8/10. Now he could use armor. But he has a boat and waterbucket for clutches, some food, gold he can trade to piglins if he finds someone else's crafting bench, one potion which I'm sure has a useful tactical effect, a bed to reset his spawn, blocks to tower with, magma blocks and flint & steel for tactical juking moves, AND the stuff to make furnaces and make decent food if he finds someone else's crafting bench, and burns the boat and his bow in the furnace. Now that's a professional minecrafter.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

What are the skellies most disliked food and why? Main skellies + maybe the Farm bros if you like.

Undertale Sans - Anything too sour. Sans hates sour food with all he has (too bad he also makes the best faces while eating some and so it's Papyrus' best way to get revenge).

Undertale Papyrus - Anything sticky, greasy, smelling too strong or having a texture his autistic mind can't bear. Papyrus is a lot more difficult with food than what people's think and he doesn't like to try new things. He's really fine with his 3-4 dishes he can perfectly control and rejects everything else.

Underswap Sans - Anything with lemon in it. He hates lemon and he can detect it in any dish, wich instantly makes him gag and stop eating. Lemon is ruining nice dishes. Stop putting lemon everywhere!

Underswap Papyrus - Biscuits that are supposed to be crunchy but reveal to be spongy out of nowhere. It ruins everything. It disgusts him.

Underfell Sans - Edge freaking putting pineapple or shit veggies on his greasy comfort pizzas. You don't touch his pizza you insufferable oversized bitch. He raised you for 20 years, now he's free to eat the hell he wants! He could also never eat lasagna ever again. Just the sight of it makes him sick. Never again. He never wants to eat anything Edge used to make Underground ever again actually.

Underfell Papyrus - All the industrial shit his brother brings home. They lack good food for years Underground, it's not to poison themselves with bad food on the Surface. He can never understand his brother's diet.

Horrortale Sans - Meat. Any kind of meat. It gives him nausea and if it's bloody it's even worse. Too many bad memories associated with it. Now that he has farm animals, he could never eat meat again anyway. It hurts him too much to imagine one of his cows in his mouth. He's fine with veggies.

Horrortale Papyrus - Meat as well, to the point he gets triggered while shopping sometimes. Willow is traumatized and has PTSD of what he had to do to the humans Underground. The smell of meat cooking instantly makes him freak out and he can get sick just smelling it. He doesn't want to take the life of another animal (or human) in his life anymore.

Swapfell Sans - Fish. He hates the smell of it, either cooked or uncooked and all the fishbones in it want to kill him. He's not going to let them win. He's also disgusted by seafood because he ate a rotten shrimp one and paid for it for two weeks with a high fever.

Swapfell Papyrus - Veggies. Ew. His brothers won't stop trying to make him eat some since he was a kid. He doesn't need veggies. They're lame and trying to make him healthy. You don't decide what's healthy for him. If he wants to eat McDonald's for the rest of his days, he's going to do it and no one will stop him. Hisssss.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Bananas. And that has nothing to do with the fact he ate one with the skin when he arrived on the Surface. He knows better, obviously (no, he doesn't).

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Soap with food flavor. How was he supposed to know you're not supposed to eat that when he arrived on the Surface? That's confusing!

Farmtale Sans - Industrial food. He can never understand why people eat this garbage when people like him are working really hard every day so they can eat healthily. What's wrong with you all!

Farmtale Papyrus - Mushrooms. He hates mushrooms. Why did someone even invent mushrooms for? It's boring, it's tasteless and people put it in a lot of dishes for no reasons. He hates mushrooms! He doesn't even know how to tell which one can kill him and which one are edible.

[oleanderfox]

Palia Tips

Some things I have learned that might help others. 🩵

Game Controls

You can put away your tool by pressing X.

If you get stuck, type /unstuck in the chat window and you’ll be teleported to the nearest stable surface.

Right clicking with a tool equipped will let you switch between different types of ammo (for bug catching and hunting).

You can cancel without wasting ammo after entering "aim" mode by pressing the Shift key or right mouse button (h/t @sharky857 ).

You can climb ivy in addition to cliffs. (Like inside the lighthouse..!)

You can cancel climbing/drop from a cliff face by clicking X. (h/t @lazyadmiral )

You can jump (space bar) while climbing cliffs to climb faster.

You can hold down the mouse key when mining, tilling, and chopping down trees rather than clicking for each chop.

Camera & Photos

Press K to enter camera mode.

There’s a 🔁 button in the corner if you want to swap to a front-facing camera/“selfie mode”.

If you want to see your photos while in the game, you have to save them to the album. However all photos taken, even if you don’t do that step, will be saved to your computer’s hard drive.

To find your photos, open Windows Explorer and enter %appdata% in the location bar. From there navigate to %AppData%/Local/Palia/Saved/Screenshots. You should be able to pin this folder to your quick nav/favorites to find it again easily.

Time

One hour of real time = one entire day in Palia. That means an hour in Palia passes in only 2.5 minutes of play.

You only get "credit" (for building friendships) for chatting with villagers once per villager per day.

Many bugs, fish, and plants can only be found at certain times. Time in Palia is divided into: ‣ Morning: 3-6am (rooster crows at 3) ‣ Day: 6am-6pm ‣ Evening: 6pm-9pm ‣ Night: 9pm-3am (owl hoots at 9)

Time in Palia is the same across all servers. Midnight (a new day) will always be on the hour in real world time, so 6am in Palia is at X:15, noon is at X:30, and 6pm is at X:45.

6am is a "new day" for crops, but midnight is a "new day" for chatting with villagers. Midnight also seems to be when the furniture in Tish’s shop refreshes.

Gifting runs on real world time, not Palia time. You can only give a villager one gift every 24 hours in the real world, and "Weekly Wants" are valid for one real world week. The week currently resets on Mondays at 12am Eastern.

Once you get a villager's key, you can talk to and visit them even when they are "asleep".

Mail is delivered and picked up (shipping bin sales) at 6am and 6pm.

To find rare spawns, arrive in the area 15-30 Palia minutes before the start of its catch period and clear all the common critters/plants. This will make it more likely your rare will spawn when the clock chimes.

Inventory & House

Furniture does not take up inventory space!!

A gold star on an item's icon means it's "star quality." Starred items fetch higher sales prices and are required for some quests.

Starred items will not stack with normal items.

Only star quality food can be placed in your house/lot.

More storage chests = more storage slots, but you are capped at 8.

You can hang items on the exterior walls of your home - including wallpaper!!

When in placement mode, you can rotate items using Q and E. You can turn off “grid mode” by pressing z, which allows more flexible item placement.

Leveling

Your character level is a combination of your level in each of your skills.

Eating food increases your "focus," which applies a percentage bonus that will make you level faster.

You can increase that bonus by visiting the Dragon and Phoenix shrines and spending Renown to increase the percentage (Phoenix Shrine) and the amount of focus you can accumulate.

You can only "carry" 1,000 Renown at any time. If you're not spending it, you're throwing away Exp.

Renown is also needed to expand your housing plot (by buying "Writs").

Event

You can get "displayable" food from Reth and Delaila, but it's based on RNG. Just keep buying the item until you get a star quality one.

The quickest way to get Chapaa Chase tickets is by completing the Achievements; some require you to party with others.

The drums are not obvious, but you only need to go back and forth between a pair of them interacting as they light up. Eventually the big fireworks will trigger and you will get the achievement and reward. (Do this 2 more times for the second achievement!)

The event achievements are on the Event tab, not the achievements one.

Skill-Specific Tips

Fishing: If you don’t click in time and the fish disappears, don’t panic — the same fish will keep trying again! And if you change your mind, you can pull your line in/cancel and you won’t spend any bait. This means you can wait to be sure you’ve hooked the fish you want before reeling it in so you don’t waste all your precious glow worms! The one caveat is that sparkle pools (and the guaranty of a star quality catch) disappear if you don’t catch the fish on the first nibble.

Hunting: The Proudhorn Sernuk can teleport and the Azure Chapaa can make an illusion of copies of itself that disappear when shot. They're both very difficult to hunt until you learn to make Dispel arrows. If you’re still struggling to have enough resources for everything, learn the lowest quality arrow that can kill something in one shot and hunt with those. (Kilima chapaa can be killed with a makeshift arrow while regular Kilima sernuk require a standard arrow. Bahari chapaa need at least a standard arrow while elder sernuk in Bahari will cost you several fine arrows.)

Looting: For hunting, mining, and chopping down trees, everyone who gets one "hit" in gets loot, and the loot is not diminished by sharing. So working together to find pallium nodes or hunt rare critters rewards everyone. :) (Note that you need to have the required equipment quality to be able to share, though - if you get a message saying “sorry, you need to upgrade your equipment” then you won’t get any loot.)

Mining: On the topic of Palium, it’s not as rare as you think. It has very specific spawn points, which it only shares with stone - you’ll never find palium where you found iron before. This means you should mine all the stone sharing those points to encourage palium to spawn for your next visit. Palium can be found in the caves hidden around the perimeter of Bahari and in the Pavel mines.

Foraging: Purple glowing trees are flow trees, and require more than one player to chop them down. Again, everyone gets "full" loot, no matter how many people get a swing in. For small trees, let them heal after each hit if needed to make sure everyone present can get a hit. If you’re looking for a specific resource, say, sweet leaf, look up what it shares spawn points with (in this case, morels) and pick three as well so sweet leaf has a chance to spawn. Also, brightshrooms are typically found in ruins right up against the structures so they can be easy to overlook or mistake for glowing bugs at night.

Cooking: You can find recipes in villager's homes, by fishing them up in bottles, lying around the wilderness, and completing quests or bundles in addition to buying them from Reth.

Cooking together: Like with looting, everyone gets the full reward, even if you don't contribute any ingredients.

Lore & Fun Stuff

There is a mysterious beast in the Elderwoods.

The mine's haunted.

Sooo much queer rep: All the romanceable characters don’t care about the player’s “body type.” Sifuu, the Duchess (Kenyara), and Eshe are canonically wlw. Chayne was raised by two dads. The former lighthouse keepers in Bahari Bay were a gay couple. 🏳️‍🌈

Critters that have been mentioned but don't have in-game models or released concept art yet so we just have to speculate: ‣ Kitsuu: Sacred companions, according to Hassian. There is a kitsuu constellation which has "floppy ears" and horns. Possibly the "fennec fox with antlers" creature drawn in the Vault of the Waves? (Confirmed by the official Discord emotes!) No longer unreleased as of 0.3.6. :) ‣ Peki: Palian version of chickens, or at least they lay eggs and have feathers, and according to Nai’o “there are at least 72 unique color and pattern combinations for peki breeds.” ‣ Riffroc: Palian mounts. Nai'o has a beloved one named Sugarfoot; Kenyatta’s is named Sundrop.

Bug Reporting, Suggestions, and Help

Report problems here.

Give feedback and request/suggest features here.

If you're stuck on a quest or where to find an item, there's an "Official" wiki and an "unofficial" wiki.

[devils-tarot]

The Fool's Journey (1 of 3)

~~~~~~~~~~

Just a Disclaimer: english is not my first language, so there will be mistakes. Sorry about that.

Part 2: is available here.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time... This is how we can start the story of the arcana with no number, The fool. I'll show you one aspect I love the most on the Tarot: its mith.

But first lets get a few things clear before we get to the main subject here. Everything I'm about to tell here is A MITH not a historical event. It holds mysteries on my tradition, and we do not expect it to make sense to everybody.

All I'm about to share is about the Tarot Deck with 78 cards, in wich 22 of them are major arcana and the rest are minors. The story of The Fool goes withing all the major arcana, therefore, the 22 cards all together is the The Fool's Journey.

The first one to tell a story like this was Roberto Caldeira in his book Caminho do Louco, published in Brazil. And one of the aspects of our system towards Tarot is: it tells all the stories, the old ones and the yet to come, so, the one I'm sharing here is my version of it. To see my master's version, get his book.

That being said, here we go. Hope you have fun!

There once was a man who used to live his life like everyone else was. Day by day he did just what everyone was doing: work during the day, ate anything that could look like food, complain about life, complain about others, complain about work, and sleep late in the night just to wake up early next morning to repeat everything, again and again...

One day he woke up, got dressed and walked out the house to go to work when he tripped over his own foot and fell down the stairs. In that moment, while he wasn't neither safe nor on the floor, but somewhere in between, his hole life has passed trough his eyes, and for a fraction of a second it was almost like he was in another reality.

Suddenly, he found himself on a cliff, with a dog chasing him. He quickly noticed his strange clothes and luggage (if we can call it that). Nothing there was understandable to him. He didn't understand what was happening, but overcome by the need to survive, to stay alive, he threw himself off the cliff into the unknown.

This urge to stay alive transformed the man into The Magician.

"OK, Now this?" he thought to himself. He had changed his clothes, had a cape now, everything was so weird. He decided then to open up the bag he was carying, he had to know what was in there...

A sword, a chalice, what seemed to be a disc of gold, and a staff... He knew everything he had carried with him, but what would he do with those was still a mystery.

He than decided he had to keep going, wherever he was going to. This urge kept chasing after him, the urge to live. And so he did. He used the disc as mirror sometimes, had the sword to help on fishing or chasing animals, the staff helped him walk, and the days where going, but not flowing.

He then decided to put his instruments in front of him and did something he had not yet tryed. Observation. And so he stood there, thinking, and in the processes, his mind got free. He was infinite, and he knew it. That moment everything made sense.. He had seen everything, as above so below, and as suddenly as that he changed to The High Priestess.

The Fool is now fully conected and awere of himself in the world. The high priestess has overpassed the mistery, and so our character now understands more of whats happening aroung him. His in some "spiritual existence", or so he thought.

During that time, the Fool got to learn more about his instruments. He then discovered that the sword was all about his soul, his discipline in order to be trustfull. That sword was a reminder that life will train you as a Warior, to fight for your life, for your existence. It's how it works for every being on the planet. We gotta fight for our existence. With discipline.

The chalice was a way of checking his emotions and dealing with them. Remembering to keep his water clean in order not to get thursty! It also showed him that, he was thursty of love, of happiness, of life. Know he could seed that. Oh, and that mirror? Yes, that golden disk reflected him to himself. "Are you worthy? do you feel worthy? what are you wothy for?" As a reminder to forge himself into a better and more beauty version of himself. That just growed bigger and bigger.

That staff became something more to him. Now he had a purpose: to improve. Improve himself for himself. He deserved it! And so he start day by day studying his own life, lookig inside him, fighting his demons.

He was so immersed in the experience he was living, that he barelly saw how much he accomplished. And when he stopet for a bit to look aroung him, everything was diffent. He had became The Empress.

Each achieviment of him was like a child: he was giving birth not to humans, but to his own desire. And there was a bunch of them already, growing all around him. He was no longer thursty for life, or happiness... He started seeing that everything he did had bring something new to his life.

He couldn't be happier. Thouse days were so great he just kept going, chasing his dreams, making them come true. He realized that the urge he felt some time ago was still there, but had chenged, as he did over the time. Something felt different.

He than decided to do what he learned already: ask the universe, life will talk to us. His conection was still on point, and he started to realize he had been manifesting all this glory and life, but where was it? What he had in the end? Was him high? Just as a mother takes responsibility for her children, he needed to take responsibility for his dreams too. It would not be enough to reach them, we must maintain them.

So, our man started to put order in his life. He had a sword, he need to discipline himself. And that made him The Emperror.

Disciplined, our Emperor conquered his life, dominated his daily life facing his main enemy: laziness.

It didn't take long until this whole result catch the attention of the people around. It's not every day that you see a kingdom emerge out of nowhere like this, in your neighbor's backyard. After attracting so much attention, the emperor ended up noticing the society around him.

Thus he observed the people, their customs, and noticed a lot of himself in others. He noticed his old tricks, his struggles, his improvements. They weren't that different, and he could see that.

And suddenly he asked himself: "everything I've been doing, everything I've been fighting for: my wealth, my success, my work, my life, is all of this my will or is it theirs? Who made me?"

Thinking about that, with all the discipline he had learned with the emperor, it was not difficult for him to change again, this time into the Hierofant.

Society is such a complex theme, don't you think? We organize our lifes in so many different ways, with different traditions, with different gods (or its absense). The Fool as deeply mesmerized by the fact that he had been following rules over rules, and all of it was our. We made them. So they made him. That's what he was thinking. He had to do something differente. And so he tried.

He decided to test and question every rule he came across, and in this process a lot happened. He discovered new places, with new people, who had new customs. And when he put into practice what he had learned in the last few months, he came to the same conclusion: Whenever I discover something, I become aware of something, I have the opportunity to dive into it, and when I see results I know: discipline leads to success. The magician, the high priestess, the empress and the emperor had already taught this to the Fool.

Thus he realized that yet another mystery had been revealed: society. Yes, all of us. Our complexity, our characteristics, our possibilities of existence. What do we devote our lives to? He questioned himself rhetorically.

In that moment he wondered, what do I want to do now? And the Lovers he became.

He look up and saw an angel. Was it god? Could it be god? Well, there was no need to worry about the answer. He just asked, and got answered.

After a while, The fool learned so manythings with the angel that got him into thinking that everytime he decided to do something, his wish as blessed by God. Even the bad choices he made was blessed. If life was a road, it sould be a big crossing streets, and the present time is right in the middle of it.

Every decision he made took him somewhere. Some places were goog, other not so much. When he choosed to give himself the attention and care hi needed the things went well. But whenever he let go of his own live, he got lost in his own life.

The should be a mystery, and he was right. He learned that what mooves him is his wishes to became better. He got to understand (finally!!!) the urge he felt. It was DESIRE.

He then realized he was free. Free to choose his own path, to go wherever he wanted. There are so many possibilities for us out there, he tought, and so he decided he was going foward, and that's how he turned into The Chariot.

Now, the angel of life on the previous card had given the Fool a perspective of life, and with an open mind he persued his desire. The star on the forehead show us that he could see the world from a new perspective.

But something was off. The chariot no longer moved. After trying and trying, he only walked in circle. After sometime re realized the problem. One of the animal was going left, the other one right. How could he go anywhere?

Remembering the old days, he decided to put on practice again what he learned, and voilà, something seemed to be working. He could see now, the horses are actually one: he himself. His emotional body and his racional body, materialized outside him. He had to master them, as he did back in the Emperor with his daily routine. Heart and Mind united into one.

Then, without reining in the horses, he climbed into the Chariot. Armed only with his true will, he commanded his instinct and his reason, his rational body and his emotional body. And on he went. And he achieved his goals. And because of this he was transformed and sat on the throne of Justice.

to be continued...

[bilehwit]

Hi, another ask kinda indirectly related to the Bilehwit AU

But what are some of your personal headcannons about the bishops, that may or may not be in this au but as a personal interpretation of their character?

+ Who's your fav Bishop(excluding Narinder for now) ?

Favourite has to be Kallamar - gay coward??? Me coded fr fr.

That being said, I somehow always write more about Shamura???

But headcanons!

Kallamar:

🐙My man has a skin tone for gold, and he lets it be known by wearing enough to be heard janglin' a mile away.

🐙He has never once in his life done that! (He has done it 1 billion times, but he must appear better than thou.)

🐙Scared of Shamura when they're not lucid.

🐙Once drunk Leshy under the table only to then get decimated by Heket.

🐙Many spouses, does not like sexual activity. In my eyes he's asexual but a hopeless romantic.

🐙Will stop whole processions to look at bacterial growths on the floor.

🐙East Asian - South Korean, modern day would be a K-Pop beauty influencer.

Leshy:

🌱 Is Chaotic, but not in a fun way, more in a "Oh my God 3 people are dead" way.

🌱Used to biting to show affection.

🌱Cries when he's angry.

🌱Wants Shamura to be proud (they are.)

🌱Turns spouses into Witnesses. Also doesnt know what a spouse is/is for.

🌱Is the most physically violent.

🌱Ate scraps of metal on a dare (digested with no problems.)

🌱Russian.

Heket:

🐸Hates mushrooms (shockingly).

🐸Bought a cowboy hat.

🐸Likes to garden and cook but hates washing up.

🐸Says shit like "four score and twelve moons ago" to piss off Kallamar.

🐸Likes writing on Papyrus.

🐸Egyptian and will complain about heat.

🐸Lesbiab. Lesbaen. WOMAN LIKER.

🐸Tells you to go fuck yourself if you compliment her looks.

Shamura:

🕷When lucid, talks about the good old days.

🕷Most crimes committed as a mortal.

🕷Writes nursery rhymes for their followers.

🕷Used to have dancing rituals to gather sin - now can barely twitch their legs to a beat.

🕷"Oh, thank you Leshy- sorry, Narinder." "I'm Kallamar." "That's what I said." - common occurrence even before.

🕷Wants a pet so so bad. Do not give them one.

🕷Attracted to people with long hair and excellent grammar.

🕷Once did a kickflip so bad they had to kill the elderly congregation watching them.

🕷Tanzanian and speaks swahili when angry.

Narinder:

🪦Likes to bite Kallamar ("I can't help it, cats love fish." "I AM NOT EVEN CLASSIFIED AS A FISH." "You could be.")

🪦Indian, but spent so long in Purgatory he can no longer handle flavourful foods. At least at the start.

🪦Didn't realise Bilehwit had an ACTUAL CRUSH on him and thought they were like. Just that devoted. Pious. That's why they never took a lover.

🪦Cat baths when no one looks - gotta look constantly refined.

🪦Uses his third eye to scare people, namely children.

🪦I Would Never pt, except he definitely is still doing it while you watch.

🪦Finds children hilarious (to torment).

🪦Best dancer, worst singer of the Bishops. Can play music very well though.

🪦First time in Bilehwit's tent, he paid no attention because they were arguing. Then snuck in later to actually see the place.

And that's all my headcanons!

[300yearschallenge]

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

"You don't have to give all the fish guts to the cats," Theodore said, "They'll get fat, lazy and stop hunting vermin. Save some for the chickens."

"But they love it," Charles Elias protested, "And they feel sad otherwise. Don't you, Brons?"

Brons let out a loud, impatient meow, eyeing the food in Charles Elias' hand.

Charles Elias had taken to his punishment of no outings with relative ease. There was always work to be done, and he could always dote on the cats a little extra.

"Speaking of sad…," Theodore said, breaking Charles Elias' reverie, and nodded in the direction of Laura.

She drifted by without a word, her eyes somewhere far away.

It was one of those days. Charles Elias called them her 'silent days'. Days where she would avoid everyone and hide away, and even when she was physically present her eyes were dazed, empty.

Wherever Laura's mind went on her 'silent days' was a place Charles Elias didn't like.

"May I go check on her?" Charles Elias turned to Theodore.

"Of course," Theodore said and then grinned, holding up a fish heart, "I'd have to be pretty heartless if I said no."

She'd sat down on a log further down the beach, and even though Charles Elias knew his footsteps were loud on the ground she didn't react or turn around.

"Laura?"

No response.

"Hey, Laura?" Charles Elias tried again.

"Go away."

Her voice was cold and angry, and Charles Elias immediately paused. But he wanted to do something about her mood, and he didn't want to just leave her to sit out here all alone. Even if that was what she wanted.

His eyes fell on a patch of dandelions by his feet, and he bent down to grab one.

"But I brought you a gift," he said.

Laura paused, and when she spoke her voice was a little less cold, "A gift?"

"Yes," he said, "I can go away but I'd rather give it to you now."

"What is it?" She almost turned around.

Charles Elias held his hand gently around the dandelion as he went to sit down next to her.

"A wish," he said, holding it out to her, and as she looked between him and the dandelion her frown turned into a smile.

"That's not a wish," she said with a slight laugh, even as she reached out to take it from him.

"But it could be," he smiled, "Just blow out the seeds and your wish will come true."

"Hm," she said with a sarcastic grin, "Then I should wish for something truly outrageous. Maybe a castle made of gold."

"With a kingdom of your own," Charles Elias added.

"Of course," she said, "And let's not forget the fairytale prince. But a human one, no snakes or trolls."

Her smile faltered a little, and then she took a deep breath and slowly blew out the seeds to the wind.

"What did you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true."

"Oh, right."

There was a beat of silence and then Laura whispered, so quietly it was almost drowned out by rush of waves against the beach, "Thank you."

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

[zoesblogsposts]

o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous