#they won't even let me make them and save them to my drafts???

[blakbonnet]

I would very much like to do more mootboards but unfortunately tumblr is telling me I've hit my "media limit" :))))) so I'm gonna do the rest tomorrow ❤️

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[lucidbee]

Swim Lessons | Percy Jackson x Reader

Summary: Every camper must know how to swim, so who better than the son of the sea God to teach you, and the possibility of learning more than just how to swim.

Authors Note: This has been in my drafts for the last two weeks and I’m still not happy with it, but it’s making me irrationally angry so I’m posting it just so I can stop having to write it.

Word count:768

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s fine. Everything will be okay. He won't laugh at me,” you say to yourself, making your way to Cabin Three. “He is just the most famous demi-god ever to exist, and you haven’t spoken a single word to him before. Everything will be completely fine.” With a sigh, you knock on the cabin door. Thirty seconds pass before the door finally opens, revealing a half-dressed Percy.

“Hey, sorry, I was changing after training. What can I do for you?”

“H-Hi, I was, um... hi.”

“Hi?”

“Sorry, we’ve never met before,” you say nervously.

“Are you new to Camp Half-Blood? New campers get sent to the Hermes cabin.”

“Wait, you’re not a child of Poseidon, right? Are you my sister?” Percy asks in a rush.

“No, no, I’m not new. I’m a daughter of Apollo. Chiron sent me here to ask you something.”

“Oh, a daughter of Apollo. That makes sense—you have that golden hue to you. What did you need to ask me?”

“It’s silly, really. I can come back another day if you’re busy,” you say, turning to head back to your cabin.

“NO,” Percy says, taking your wrist into his hand. “I mean, I’m not busy. I can help you.”

“Chiron said every camper needs to know how to swim, and I don’t. He said you might be able to teach me. But it’s no trouble if you’re not able to help me.”

“No, I would love to help you. Meet me at the beach in ten.”

“Thank you, Percy.”

“You're welcome…”

“Y/n, my name is Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” Percy says with a smile.

The waves were calm as you and Percy stood in the shallow end, the water reaching just past your waists. You thought you would be more nervous around a stranger, but Percy was good at keeping the mood light, always asking if you were okay.

“Okay, now that you know water safety 101, let's start with floating on your back. I know, I know, it sounds boring, but it’s important to know.”

Percy helps you onto your back, teaching you how to move your arms and legs to change directions in the water before he gets onto his own back.

“So, why have you never learned how to swim?” Percy asks.

“The water always scared me. Not knowing what’s swimming down below... Drowning is scary as well, but it’s mostly fish. Not a big fish person.”

“WHAAAT? How are fish scary? Most aren’t even deadly.”

“They have these large eyes that don’t blink. Who wants to be staring at huge, unblinking black eyes?”

“Don’t let the sea nymphs hear you say that. They might drag you down to the bottom of the sea.”

“You would let them kill me?”

“No, but maybe let them scare you a bit before saving you,” Percy says, laughing.

“Oh, my hero.”

“Yeah, your hero,” Percy says with a soft smile.

The next hour is spent teaching you how to swim. It was easy with the son of Poseidon. You had nothing to fear, knowing that he would let nothing happen to you. He was a pretty good teacher, too—you were able to catch on fast. You hadn’t been so relaxed at camp before; it felt more like a vacation than training to fight against monsters.

“I think you officially know how to swim,” Percy says, swimming to the shore.

“All thanks to you,” you say, following.

“It probably helps when your teacher can control water, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

You and Percy get out of the water, drying off, and sit on the beach. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him, his wet hair framing his face and dripping down his chiseled stomach.

“Enjoying the view?”

Your face turns red, being caught staring. “Sorry,” you say, looking down.

“Don’t worry, I was staring at you too.”

Your face flushes brighter, taken aback by how blunt Percy was being. It was no secret that he was considered one of the most attractive people at camp—his looks were often discussed just as much as his fighting prowess. The thought that he could find you attractive seemed almost impossible to believe. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself unattractive, but you definitely weren’t a daughter of Aphrodite.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Percy says, looking worried.

“No, you didn’t. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“You’re beautiful, Y/n.”

“Yeah?” you say, looking at Percy.

“Yeah,” Percy says, keeping eye contact with you.

An idea pops into your head to hopefully have this moment again in the future.

“Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I still need swimming lessons. I don’t think one day is enough.”

A wide smile forms across Percy’s face. “I was thinking the same thing, actually. I think you should also get over your fear of fish. I have a feeling you’ll be around more sea life from now on.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“No reason.”

“Mhm, can we start with a cute sea animal? Work my way up to the scary, beady eyes? Maybe a sea lion or a hippocampus?”

“I’m sure I can have that arranged. Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you say as the horn for lunch is blown.

“I guess we should start heading back,” Percy says, looking a little disappointed.

“Yeah, I guess we should. It was nice hanging out with you. See you tomorrow,” you say, turning to walk away. You make it almost a foot before—

“WAIT.”

“Yeah?” you say, confused.

“I don’t want to stop talking to you yet. I know we can’t sit at the same table, but can we talk together until our cabin is called?”

A smile spreads across your face. “Come on, fish boy,” you say, holding out your hand.

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

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

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

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

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

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

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

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

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

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

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

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

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

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

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That will be ten bronze kid"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

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

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

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

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

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

"Good"

"Captain!"

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

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

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

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

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

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

"Captain it was a joke!!"

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

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

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

"ok!"

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

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

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

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

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

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

"You swine"

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

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

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

"Ok then”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

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

"You can have it"

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

"ten bronze"

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

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

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

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

"thank you and...Sorry"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

You try hard to free yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Infatuation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

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

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

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

“Where are you looking at?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mikwaa]

I'll always miss you, you will shine like gold in my memory.

Zhongli x Reader

Wc: 2.7k

Warnings: Angst, hurt no comfort, reader dies. Toxic relationship, Morax is an idiot brute, this is set in the Archon war, reader is a warrior.

A/n: I had this draft written here a while ago, decided to post it because it's one I really like. As the old Morax is described as a more rough and ruthless person, I imagine that for him to change there had to be a major event. And so I ended up writing this, maybe I'll do another ending because I genuinely don't like sad endings, but it went together so well I decided to leave it like this.

"Morax, please listen to me." And there you were, in one of those endless fights with your husband.

The reason this time was that you had found a group of people, begging for a place to stay, since they were wandering around. This group had been exiled from Sumeru, the reasons were not yet clear, nor did they know why. There were children, elders, even young pregnant women, you couldn't just ignore them and let them die.

And you had offered them a home in the Guili Plains, the place where the Liyue population was housed. But Morax did not accept, nor did he seem to want to change his mind.

"I've said what I think, and I'm not going to change it." And he didn't even look at you, on the contrary, he walked even faster to distance more from you.

"Can you stop being so irreverent?" You quicken your steps and stand in front of him, stopping him from moving forward.

He narrowed his eyes in your direction, his face turning into an angry frown, "I told you, don't make me repeat myself. If you choose to save those people, you can forget about coming back. I don't want you around." His words were sharp as blades, wounding as such.

And seeing his face without a drop of expression, without a single regret. How could he say such impactful things as if they were nothing?

"How can you talk like that? I'm your spouse, I'm just trying to help." You could already feel tears forming in your eyes, he always acted like a brute, but there were times you couldn't even handle it.

"You can help me by protecting my people, not by harboring strangers." The coldness with which he spoke to you was abysmal, it didn't even seem like you had any kind of relationship.

"They are people too, they have feelings too. They are afraid to die, they are simply out in the open."

"I care what's mine, we're in a war, we can't save everyone. And I chose to take care of what is mine, my territory together with my people". He states, with that usual stoic face. With that arrogance and selfishness that would drive anyone crazy with rage.

"So that's still a no?" Breathing heavily you ask him one last time, the hope you had of him giving in had simply vanished.

"It was always a no. If you're going to keep talking about it, you can save both your time and mine." Snide and sharp, he never seemed to change.

"Then you won't want me here anymore, I suppose." To his surprise, you wouldn't give up. You would keep your word no matter what.

"Go ahead." Nothing more, not a sentimentality, nothing. Just treating you like you were just another one of his pawns, like you were just another one in the crowd.

A hot tear ran down your face, your heart burning as if it had been recently scalded.

"Are you really going to treat me like this? Like I'm nothing to you, and this ring means nothing?" You removed the ring, holding it with trembling hands.

The engagement ring, which he had made for you himself, was so beautiful. With jade detailing all over the ring, and even more precious was the message it had, 'It will always be you'. According to him, it was to show how much you meant to him.

And now? Were those beautiful words just thrown to the wind?

He huffed, looking incredibly upset and tired of this situation, but he didn't show you anything, he wasn't sad, sorry, guilty, nothing. As if none of this mattered.

"Have it your way." Completely indifferent he mumbles.

"Okay." You threw the ring away, without even looking at where it went," If it meant nothing to you, it meant nothing to me."

Now he seemed to take some notice of you, but was clearly displeased.

But there was no time for him to talk or complain to you, you ran out of there. He wanted to go after you, but the pride he carried in his chest was stronger.

A feeling of guilt invaded his heart, but he still wouldn't let his feelings get the better of him, because he believed that you would go back on your decision.

You wouldn't exchange him for a group of people you barely know, but that was exactly the point he didn't understand. It wasn't that he wouldn't help you, it was the way he dealt with certain issues. He was so focused and objective, that should be good, but it wasn't the case with him.

He always complained that you think too much about others, just as you complain that his behavior is often harsh and hostile. He believed that you would come back, but he was wrong, very wrong.

it had been three weeks since you had even dared to look at each other. He couldn't swallow his pride, and neither could you. That arrogance and selfishness he possessed could get on anyone's nerves, and you were not immune to it.

No matter how many times you tried to make him understand that things were not practical as he claimed they were, he would never understand, he was a real brute.

And that was the last straw for you, people were not objects that he could control as and when he wanted, and he didn't seem to want to understand that.

You had left the village, and had no desire to return. You had tucked yourself away in a simpler hut and in a place you suspected Morax wouldn't go near. Even though you loved him so much, you doubted if he would ever change.

It was so many doubts mixed with the anger you felt about the things he said, you took it out on the monsters you met in front of you, without letting a single one escape.

With quick and precise blows, you used your blade with an unmistakable dexterity. But even this was not enough for what would happen next. A monster that you didn't even know what it was hit you, and ended up hurting you.

You didn't even know where it came from, you didn't even have time to react. Your body heaved and you fell to the grass abruptly, as you felt a sharp pain run through your entire body.

And when you managed to stabilize yourself and look at the monster, it was no longer there. It had already turned to dust.

"You with this stubbornness. You can't even take care of yourself." From the familiarity in his voice, it wasn't hard to guess that it was your husband.

"Shut up." You mustered the strength to speak, it seemed as if your strength was draining away second by second.

Even in such a state, the weakness and frailty you were in didn't seem to make any commotion in Morax.

"If you knew you wouldn't be like this." So cold, so distant. Every word of his hurt so much.

How could he be so indifferent? So cruel.

"You won't even see your spouse? You won't even try to take care of me?" Even though you tried to sound strong and imposing, all that came out was a shaky, tired voice.

"I'm no specialist in this. Go find help somewhere else, I told you I don't want you around." It wasn't just anger, it was a feeling of someone who had been defied, you hadn't followed his orders, and he was hating you for it.

You had traded him, that's what he had in mind, but you didn't leave because of that. You loved him like crazy, and you had helped him in many ways. But he still needed to think more about others, trust humans more.

To learn to understand that people were not just pawns that he moved when and how he wanted, it was far from that. And now he was experiencing the fact that someone might not follow his orders, and that someone was you.

He went to look over his shoulder one last time, as he began to notice a pool of blood starting to form around you, he hurried his steps over to you.

"I have to take you, the healers will help." Bending down close to you he whispers. The sudden change in behavior that soon showed his desperation.

"You know they won't, there's nothing else to do." You couldn't control the tear that welled up in your eye.

It had been a very deep wound, you didn't need any healer to tell you that you were hopeless, the village was far away, there would be no time to get there. Several other warriors had died like this, and it would be no different with you.

His stoic expression turned to one of terror, his pride gone in a matter of minutes.

"Don't talk foolishness." He nestles you in his arms, carrying you so gingerly that it seemed he was afraid of hurting you with the slightest touch.

"Leave me here," he opened his mouth to protest, and you continued, "Please."

He propped you up on his chest, wrapping you in the clothes of his own body, so that you were properly protected.

"Why are you so stubborn? I can't understand you." For the first time you heard him speak in a broken voice, he was trying not to cry.

"I just want to save time, you know you don't have much to do." You gently caress his face.

He wanted to tell you so much, but he couldn't put it into words, ever.

"I shouldn't have acted like that." Finally, he admitted it. But now it was too late for any regrets.

You intertwined your fingers with his, smiling faintly. He could feel your strength fading little by little, and he could do nothing.

You were too fragile, just like all humans. And he could do nothing.

Nothing.

He couldn't believe it, how could a being as powerful as him be so powerless like that? That shouldn't be right, but it was.

"Please stay." He pleads, but how could you fulfill that request? His voice was so shaken it sounded almost unrecognizable.

For the first time he was losing one of his partners, he had always protected them all as best he could, and none of them had gone so far. But the first was you, his first big loss was you. How would he be able to handle it? No, he couldn't.

"I will never forget your eyes, they are so beautiful." You say softly, almost inaudible.

And he let a tear escape, all the armor he had made in his heart had broken, and he couldn't control it. It was the love of his life leaving, all he could do was watch, how could he be so useless at a time like this?

"Stay, keep your eyes open, I'll get help, I'll…" Not even he himself believed his own words, much less believed that you could save yourself.

He felt so much guilt, how could he have been so negligent? He had never been very sentimental, but now he felt it all at once.

He could hardly describe his exact feeling, because he had no exact feeling. Now he understood all the human emotions you spoke of, a pity he could only understand now, on your deathbed.

The birds were singing, it was a beautiful day, the sun had the most beautiful glow. And yet Morax was there, on the grass with you in his arms, crying in despair like never before. The blood that stained the green of the vegetation, and the pain that remained impregnated in Morax's soul.

And then, like one of those tricks played by fate, everything fell silent. Morax sobbed softly, and made one last plea, "Don't leave me, I really care for you. I love you, stay here." He held your hand tightly, seeing how small it was compared to his.

It was the first time he had been that clear, he had never really opened his heart to you, a shame that the first time he said 'I love you', you were no longer there to hear it.

And as soon as he realized it, a faint cry was all that came out of Morax's mouth, followed by an audible sob. He realized that you died there, nestled in his arms, holding his hand, so angelic.

His beloved had left him, eternally.

Millennia had passed since your death, 3.800 years to be exact. Yet this hurt Morax so much that he was never able to forget you.

Even though he left the Archon life aside, now going by another name, Zhongli, and leading a more modest life as a simple Liyue citizen, the memories he had with you were vivid, shining like gold in his memory.

He martyred himself every day, he blamed himself, a guilt that he would never be able to eliminate from his chest, he would give everything, even his life for you to come back.

And today this feeling was stronger than ever, because it was the day of your death, the day you left him alone in this world. Another year had passed, and even so it seemed like yesterday when you died, at least that's how Morax felt.

And as he did every year, he bought your favorite flowers, picked them carefully to make sure that you would like them. Plus he provided the wine of his choice, it was the only thing that made his mind clear on a day like this, even if he wasn't very used to all that drinking.

When he was ready, he went to your tomb, which was made in the Guili Plains, the place where everything began, and also where everything ended. He always kept your grave clean, after all he visited you every day, no matter how hectic his routine could be, he would always come to your grave daily.

"I missed you, my dear." He says these words to the wind, anyone passing by would think he was crazy, but he didn't care.

He always spent hours talking to you, talking about everything that had changed, and how he had changed. He always thought that no matter where you were, you could always hear him.

Gently he put the flowers on the grave, and sat down on the floor, while pouring himself some wine. "I just wanted to remind you that I love you, more than anything else."

On a day like today, he wouldn't even try to hold back the tears, or the pain in his chest. He caught himself thinking how proud you would be to see the progress Liyue had made, how beautiful the city looked now.

He wanted to show you that he understood what you said in the last minutes of your life, he wanted to show you that you had become a better person. This was due to a great influence of yours, who now was not here to accompany him on this journey.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything I did, my beloved. You would think it magnificent the way everything has progressed, how humans could achieve so much." His voice choked, his face red as the tears came down without stopping.

'His beloved' , was so sweet when it came out of his lips, but so melancholy by the look in his eyes, those gentle golden eyes that expressed so much sorrow.

A love ended in such a way could hurt so much, and Morax knew it. He had experienced it so harshly, but he stood firm to keep the nation you two had fought so hard for standing, and he would keep fighting because he thought it was the way to repay you for all you had done for him.

Every time he remembered you crumbling in his arms, his heart squeezed in such a way. Your face paled along with your frail body, looking as if it would break at any moment. And with that he remembered how much he missed you in his arms, your laughter, the warmth of your body, your beautiful face.

He missed it all, and remembered these moments bitterly, but also joyfully, because he remembered when you were still with him.

He would protect the people at all costs, and keep everything safe as long as he was alive, he would watch over everything you believed in. He would gladly do this for the rest of his days.

Now all he could do was wait, wait for him to take his last breath. And then finally, finally he could meet you, and tell you everything that happened during those years.

[alexa-fika]

This idea is living in my mind rent free and won't leave me alone!

So Roger pirates (also young shanks and buggy) x puppet!child!f!reader.

Can you do some lyrics from the song "Puppet boy?"

Reader is from a circus, a dangerous one. The Ringmaster has a power where he can control people like puppets and most of the performers are adults who don't get in the way but the ringmaster prefers reader and controls the most in stunts and performances and very dangerous ones, even for adults, like flying trapeze in a very high hight with no support and other crazy things. The audience members don't sense anything only seeing the reader as talented. They don't see reader controlled as the puppet strings are invisible to them. Roger pirates was visiting an Island, saw that s huge event at a circus and decided to go. They see reader who has clown makeup on their face and a circus outfits preforming with adults in VERY dangerous acts. The circus decide to take a quick break to set up for the new act and the ringmaster wants a talk with reader. Reader has to do every dangerous stunt on her own with no help to gain more money for the circus.

Roger pirates save her from the circus and set the performers free. You can add how they save her and how'd they know that she was being controlled. I want an very actiony,angsty thing, if it's alright.

Thank you

The apprentices apprentice (Roger pirates x child!reader)

Ps mad and throwing a tantrum cause tumblr just deleted my draft. ANYWAY GUYS FINALLY I FINISHED IT, there are some parts im still hesitant about but other than that I think I like this one. I’m not good with action so let me know what you think; also tell me why it wasen’t until now that I saw the end of the request like it din’t register on my brain until now so HERES YOUR ACTION ANGSTY PIECE, TOTALLY HAS ACTION AND ANGST BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT AND NOT BY ACCIDENT 😀Another also! I was writing this at work so at first I was just looking at the lyrics and I was like ‘okay this must have a really melancholic sound’ tell me why the somg is so upbeat 😂

Execution scene…

This piece has one line that hints to having at least medium length hair, if this does not fit you you can always imagine it is a wig as I made sure it wasen’t explicit that it was their hair or you can also take it as their hijab being arranged rather than hair

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics and @/drinkthesky

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for my ease lf writing and the enjoyment of oc readers

The man behind the child let out a hum as he looked at the mirror and tried different hairstyles on them.

“Perhaps we should do a half-up-down style; what do you think, dear?

“…”

“Aww, come on, don’t tell me you are still throwing a tantrum?” He teased looking down at them

“Well, dear, if you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have to hurt you the way I do; it is quite simple,” he carelessly added as he continued working on their hair, eventually turning them around to begin working on their make-up.

“Oh, how I wish you didn’t make me have to punish you; now look, your skin is all stained. That’s alright, nothing some makeup can’t cover, right?” he spoke as he forcefully pulled their chin up and began to apply powder on their face paying extra attention to the dark bruises that litter their face

“You will do today’s show without any nets or supports,” he informed them.

“W-What?”

“Don’t move.” He sneered as his words caused the small child to flinch back

“Don’t act so surprised, dear; the audience paid a lot to watch you, so it’s only fair to have something at stake.”

“B-But what if I fall?” They cried, slapping his hands away as they jumped off the chair

“Enough.” He growled making, putting his hand out and wiggling his finger in a ‘come here motion’ a dark grin growing on his face as they were pulled towards him as he did

“You seem to be really defiant lately. Do you want the strings to come back? Perhaps I was too benevolent in giving you free will,” he sneered

“Well? Do you?!” He boomed

“No!” She cried

“Good. Next time, I won’t be as nice,” he said, walking out of the room and glancing back at the crying child on the floor.

“Enough with the tears. Your makeup will get damaged. Get ready for the show; you will be out in a few minutes.”

They sighed, looking at themselves in the mirror, trying to calm the erratic beating of their hearts at the stunts they were forced to do minutes before. Eventually, a few sniffles escaped them, sniffles turning into small hiccups and small hiccups turning into a cascade of tears as the events of the day began to catch up to them.

“Wait, Buggy, you idiot!”

It wasn’t until the sound of something crashing behind them that they were pulled out of their spiral and stared at the two boys standing there.

“Me?! You were the one that shoved me!” A voice cried

“Did not”

“Ye-

“Who are you?” The child asked, staring wide-eyed at the couple of teens bickering in front of them

“Sorry to barge in, we just were looking around,” the redhead answered, turning his attention from his friend to them.

“You can’t be ere!” they hissed.

“I know, I know, this is backstage, but we wanted to see what it was like. Buggy here was really impressed by your act, so we wanted to take a peak.”

“I was not!” the red-nose boy protested, shooting up.

“No! No! You can’t be ere!” Dokucha cried, jumping down from the chair

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay. We were just leaving,” Shanks assures them with an easy smile on his face despite having been caught.

“N-

“Dokucha!” A voice angrily boomed

“Ah!” the child looked at the sound of the voice with a terrified look on their and back to the two boys, quickly running towards them and pulling them to a nearby closet, ignoring the confused protests of the two.

“H-Hey!”

“Shhh!” they called, closing the door just in time for the ringmaster to storm in

“Wha- Agh!” they cried as the man sent them flying back with a punch to their face. A livid expression on their face as they did

The child looked up at the man, holding their cheek in pain as they did; despite this not being a to them, it did not make this treatment any easier on the child.

“R-Ringmaster?” they questioned

“You useless brat!” he growled, kicking them back and watching as the child crashed against the masts of the tent at his actions.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I can make it better, please!”

“You think I didn’t notice?! What have I told you about hesitating when making your jumps, you worthless piece of shit!”

Tears started to fall from Dokucha’s eyes as they slowly picked themselves up, looking up at the monster in front of them.

“P-Please, I wasn’t h-

“Shut up,” He roared.

“It’s obvious I was too lenient on you in giving you some kind of free will; it’s time you remember your place,” he muttered, a dark look growing on his face as he snapped his fingers. He grinned, satisfied at the child’s cries as they were pulled into the air, strings slowly enveloping their bodies.

Ignoring the cries and pleas of the child, he tightened his hand into a fist, watching as the strings seemed to follow their lead as they painfully tightened against the child until they began digging into their skin.

It was their cries that prevented the ringmaster from hearing the scuffle that seemed to occur behind him as this went on. As a livid Shanks started struggling against Buggy, who held the teen back from storming into the scene

“Buggy, we have to do something,” he growled, struggling against his friend’s holds.

“I know, idiot! But look, the guy is a devil-fruit user, a strong one!” Buggy hissed with terrified tears pooling in his eyes at the terrifying scene they had found themselves in

“He’s going to kill them!”

“And us if we run in there!” Buggy shot back

“So what we just watch as he kills they bleed to death?!” he hissed, breaking free from his friend’s hold and turning towards him.

“N-No! I sent a hand to fetch the captain; we have to wait until they get here!”

“They don’t have that kind of time, Buggy!”

“Just wait, you moron!”

Before Shanks could throw another retort toward his crewmate, loud bangs and screams rang outside of the tent, something that the ringmaster also took notice of. As he let out a few curses as he gave one last look at the child and made his way out of the tent to investigate the commotion.

“They’re here!” Buggy exclaimed with a relieved smile

Not a second later, the two pushed their way out of the closet and ran towards the child, who by now had fallen unconscious, no doubt due to the amount of blood that slowly trickled from their body and down the strings that held them up in a morbid resemblance to a fly trapped in a spider’s web.

Pulling out his throwing knives, Buggy made quick work of the strings, watching as the child fell into Shanks’s awaiting hands as he ran next to the redhead to check on the child.

“H-Hey, are they d-dead?” he questioned, looking down at the child.

“H-Hey! Wake up! Hey!” Shanks cried, trying to shake awake the lifeless body of the child

“Now then, what have you lads gotten yourselves into?” A voice cut into as they walked into the tent, interrupting the teens fretting over the child

“Captain!” Buggy cried, looking at the man at the door of the tent

“Captain! Please! Help!” Shanks begged, looking up at his captain, terrified as he hugged Dokucha’s body closer to them

Roger stared at his apprentices agape, quickly taking in the scene in front of him as he hurried towards them.

“Crocus! Get in here!” he hollered.

It had been a week since those events took place; since then, Crocus had managed to save the child but was unsuccessful in pulling them out of the unconscious state they had been placed in. According to the Doctor, it was likely they had fallen into a comma as a response their body had to the stress undergone due to the torturous treatment at the hands of the ringmaster.

After they had been stabilized, the crew had another problem on their hands; their interference in the circus had caught the attention of the marines, and as such, they needed to set sail. The original plan was to leave the child under the care of the now-freed performers and set off; this, however, did not go as planned. Much to the crew’s surprise, the two apprentices had begged their captain to bring Dokucha along rather than leave them behind at the circus.

Some crew members objected to this idea, concerned with the child’s well-being if they were to be brought upon the ship. Unlike when the two current apprentices were taken in, the crew now sailed more dangerous waters with perilous missions, enemies, and much higher notoriety than a decade prior.

Roger, ever having a soft spot for children, agreed to the teen’s requests under the promise that they had to take part in the caring for the child, something the two had agreed to in an instant. It was clear to the crew that the apprentices had developed a bond with the small child, perhaps reminded of their own origins when they were brought aboard the Oro Jackson; regardless, in the past week, they had made true to their promise as the two were often found hanging on the sick bay watching for any new updates on the state of Dokucha. Despite being out of their element when they first woke up terrified and in tears against all odds, the teen had managed to assure the child, promising to remain by their side.

It had taken a few more weeks for the child to adjust to their new life and leave behind the fear that came with their old life. Still, with time, they had slowly reverted to a gleeful three-year-old once again, ready to join Shanks and Buggy in any mischievous adventures the two went on.

“Who’s that?” Dokucha questioned from their position on Buggy’s lap as both him Shanks sat with them on the Deck of the ship as they scanned over a piece of Newspaper

“They are a bunch of nobodies!” Buggy sneered, watching as the Whitebeard pirates had once again taken over the headline of the newspaper

Dokucha looked up at the paper once again, a grin on their face as they took the picture of the pirates in

“They look pretty cool!”

“That’s what they want you to think, Dokucha! They may look cool, but they are nothing compared to us.” Buggy Boasted

“Yes! Cause Roger pirates are the best,” they cheered.

"Dhahahaha good Job Dokucha!" Shanks grinned as he stood up, throwing the child in the air and causing them to let out gleeful squeals at the action.

“Still, what a bummer, those guys are getting all the glory,” he stated as he put Dokucha on his hip and continued to Scan the newspaper, only for it to be snatched from his hands.

“A samurai, huh?” their captain laughed.

“I would love to meet this them!” he exclaimed

“Capi!” Dokucha cheered, extending their arms towards the man, laughing as he complied with their silent request and grabbed them from Shanks

“Hey there, champ!” he exclaimed, lifting them up in the air.

“How are you feeling today? What are you up to with the lads?”

“I’m good! Shanks-nii and Buggy-nii are showing me the whybear pirates.” They grinned.

“Whitebeard,” Scoffed out with a snicker.

“Whitebeard!” they parroted

“Wahahahaha! I’m glad you’re in good spirits today!” he called, putting them down and watching as they ran their way back to Buggy, hugging their leg happily and letting out a giggle as the clown picked them up and placed them on his hip as he made silly faces to the child.

“Where are we heading now, Captain?” Shanks questioned

“We’re on the way to a nearby summer Island. I have received reports of the Whitebeard crew being spotted close. It will be the perfect chance to meet this Samurai fellow!”

“We’re going to meet the Wildboars?!” Dokucha called excitedly

Shanks sighed, giving up on correcting them and pulling on the cheek of the child.

“Dokucha, you have to stay next to us, okay? I don’t trust those guys!”

“Okey! Shanks-nii!” they whined, slapping his hand away with a frown, promptly being replaced by a smile.

“But it’s okay cause Capi and brothers are gonna be there!” they cheered.

"Wahahaha! That's right Dokucha! Just stay near us and everything will be fine!"

“Yes Capi!”

Okay yes that last part highkey dosen’t fit the whole action pace of the story and much less the narration that followed after but listen I could not in good conscience not add wholesomeness! I couldn’t, just lil Dokucha hanging from shank’s hip or cuddle in his lap as he read or Buggy’s faces to make them laugh 🥹 and omg the capi, im so smart yall 🤭

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt6

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: okay so the draft did not save itself that's why i made a quick edit and just post this one. I hope you enjoy this

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods

2010, Interlagos

"Honey we have to stop meeting like this" Jenson grins as he opens his hotel room.

Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around the British driver. Media be damned but she was extremely worried about Jenson when she heard what happened. She couldn't stop messaging people to ask him if he was okay or what. Even Mark has been worried when she told him what happened.

"Are you okay? You aren't hurt or anything?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"I'm alive and well"Jenson said, closing the door "maybe a little bruised ego from not being able to compete for the championship"

"Oh championship be damned Jense, you almost got kidnapped"Y/N exclaimed

Jenson could only chuckle. He admits he was a bit spooked by what happened but it is what it is. However, he was extremely grateful that Y/N has been worried enough to check up on him and assures that he is okay.

"Just join me for a little drink and lets talk about our day"Jenson suggested "Wine, beer, whiskey?"

"Beer would be fine" Y/N answered.

For all the times that Jenson have gone drinking with Y/N, he knows that her preference was more on wine. He could never forget it because who else than Y/N orders a wine on a bar or a nightclub.

"Tough day?" Jenson wondered

"Not as bad as being kidnapped" Y/N drinks up.

"Touché"

The two friends conversed for the night. Jenson opened up how it felt for him that he isn't able to extend his championship streak. He was not at all disappointed because he performed well and he just missed it out with this race. Y/N is a good listener and became a good support for Jenson.

"What about you? You are in for the big race on Abu Dhabi"Jenson diverted the attention to the female Webber "The big question is who are you supporting"

"I'm neutral"

Jenson looked at her as if she grew two heads. He shook his head as he took a sip of his beer.

"Oh c'mon your brother might win and you are still neutral about it?" Jenson questioned

"Well if you must know my bestfriend is also competing, Lewis is also competing and Fernando is also there" Y/N stated

Jenson raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He is not blind and he does not fall for the lies that Y/N is not choosing a side because she is friends with everyone competing. Y/N refuses to take a side because of the 'bestfriend.'

"You know its going to be historic, four drivers vying for a championship" Jenson informs "I think this is the first time that this happened"

"A lot of pressure for those wanting to win" Y/N agrees.

"You are feeling it all Y/N?" Jenson asked.

Y/N could just give out a sigh as a response. She knows that she won't be sleeping well with the whole thing happening. Its bound to happen that someone will not be fast enough and lose. Then there is also the possibility that someone will win the race and be crowned as champion.

With everything down the wire, no one could predict what will happen.

"You have to make a choice you know" Jenson reminded "What if Mark wins, what if Sebastian wins?"

"We can't have them both as world champions?" Y/N joked

"Maybe for different seasons"Jenson offered.

It was impossible for either of the driver to secure that. Given how the things are in Red Bull. They will favor whoever brings them the first championship and then place the other as their second driver.

"Y/N its just going to be much more difficult after this"Jenson straightforwardness sobered Y/N up a little "You have to stay strong and pick a side"

"I don't want to pick a side Jense, they both deserve a championship"Y/N stays firm "They are both incredible and fantastic drivers. If one of them wins, I'll be happy but I know my heart also aches for the one who misses out that championship"

This was the thing that Jenson admired about Y/N. She is supportive and loyal like that, its quite rare in the field. He gave her a comforting hug as they continue drinking their woes away.

2010, Yas Marina

It was early morning of the qualifying day when Y/N received the email. She was very much surprised upon receiving the email because she had to blink a couple of times to make sure that she is reading it correctly.

From: McLaren Racing

Subject: Job vacancy.

"Oh I am so gonna kill you for this Jense"Y/N muttered.

One of the discussions during their drunk night in Brazil was that the possible solution to Y/N's problem is moving teams. Jenson suggested that there might be some vacant jobs in McLaren before the winter season begins.

And now this conveniently timed email that Y/N has been highly recommended by several employees for the position of Press Officer makes one think that Jenson took that advice seriously.

"Are you decent?" couple of knocks interrupted her "Can I come in?"

"Come on in Mark"

Mark has two cups of coffee in hand. He was already dressed and ready for his paddock appearance. Y/N could just chuckle at the role reversal because usually she was the one who is already dressed while Mark is the one begging for five more minutes to prepare.

"One brown sugar shaken espresso with 3 pumps of toffee nuts"Mark recited proudly.

"You remembered?"

Y/N was in glee as she takes in the cup of coffee. It was a kind of morning that really needs a coffee to help her throughout the day.

"No one drinks coffee as sugary like that, only you" Mark snickers.

"I just like my coffee sweet"Y/N defends.

Mark ends up sitting at one of the chairs. Y/N could read how his expression is a mix of confidence but deep down there is some kind of worry that he is trying to hide. It must be the championship nerves getting the best of him.

"You nervous?"Y/N asked her older brother.

"Its my only chance for a championship. It feels different" Mark answered.

Y/N wanted to say that its not true and there will be plenty of more chances in the start of a new season. However,she knew that this is the closest shot that Mark has to the championship ever since he entered Formula 1.

"I spoke to Sebastian last night" Mark brought it up.

The younger Webber immediately looked up with wide eyes. She knew that the two haven't been in speaking terms except when they have to or forced to talk with each other.

"We talked about you" Mark expanded.

"Me? Why am I even brought up into the conversation?"she was confused.

"Same question but it was Sebastian that first approached me" Mark explained "He talked about how win or lose, we should not put you into a bad spot because you are both important to us"

There Sebastian goes again making her heart skip a beat. Its these little things that mainly causes her to feel deeper and deeper for the German driver. Y/N felt really touched that despite the intense rivalry, he still cares.

"And I know I thought about it all night how I'm really making things difficult for you. So thanks for sticking up with me and I'll try to be much more easier to handle" Mark concludes.

"Oh brother" was all Y/N could say before hugging him.

It felt nice for the both of them that they have each other in the sports. Its the same reason why Y/N cannot answer the offer of Jenson to move into McLaren. If she leaves then how could she be there for her brother?

"Seb really cares a lot about you"Mark informs.

"He is just being a good....bestfriend" Y/N rebutted but she seems unconvinced with her own answer.

Mark knew that Sebastian has a big sense of pride. But whenever, Y/N comes to the picture then he will immediately melt. Mark could only chuckle because Y/N has no clue of the chokehold he has over Sebastian.

"Oh I think you are thinking too little about yourself"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Y/N wondered

It was not Mark's business to play cupid. If Sebastian had the balls then he would have asked her without his help. He just gave a grin as he exited the room.

"Don't be late"Mark teased

"MARK WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"

Meanwhile, Sebastian is early to arrive at the paddock to avoid the media asking plenty of questions. He wanted to be stress-free today since he needs to put all his focus to this race because this is his chance to win the championship. He will be damned if he lets this slip by.

At the moment, he is sitting at the cafeteria which seems to be deserted by the crowd. He was enjoying his peaceful breakfast when a man in orange sat next to him.

"How are you feeling buddy?" Jenson asked too energetically for Sebastian's opinion.

"For a man no longer fighting for the championship, you seem more excited than me" Sebastian joked.

"Oh don't tell me you are nervous" Jenson teased "The Sebastian Vettel is nervous?"

Sebastian rarely gets nervous but this is one of those instances that he really feels the nerves getting the best of him. He finds it really out of his character. There is this heavy feeling in his chest that he may emerge victorious or a complete failure after this race.

"Don't tell anyone but you have my vote of confidence" Jenson whispered.

It was a bit of a boost to hear it from the 2009 World Champion, Sebastian gave him a quick hug which Jenson accepts. It was due to this closeness that Jenson noticed the silver necklace hanging on his neck.

A mischievous grin replaced Jenson's face as he knows there was only one person in this paddock that has that necklace.

"That's Y/N, isn't it?" Jenson snickers.

Just like that, the feeling of embarrassment spread in Sebastian's face. He was not embarrassed by the gift but rather he feels a little shy about anyone seeing his little lucky charm. He tucks it inside safely inside of his shirt.

"It is" Sebastian answered,playing it cool "How did you know?"

Knowing the dating history of Y/N and Jenson, he can feel a little green monster forming at his shoulders. Jenson must have been well-acquainted with Y/N that he paid close attention to notice details such as her necklace.

"Mate, when are you going to ask her out? It's been ages" Jenson asked.

"Excuse me?"

Sebastian was not expecting that. He immediately downed a water to hide his surprise.

"Don't tell me you still haven't made a move even after everything?"Jenson asked.

Jenson knew that Sebastian was someone very dear to Y/N. He had spent enough time with Y/N o figure out that its always the Webber family, Sebastian Vettel, Red Bull, then everyone else. That was how the list of priority of Y/N goes.

"She doesn't like me like that" Sebastian lies even though everything from that drunk confession still replays in Sebastian's head.

"You know what, if you win the championship then go and ask her out" Jenson challenged.

"Now you are putting even more pressure on me"

"C'mon now!" Jenson was exasperated "I'm not even accepting any cash prizes, just name your first child after me for being a good wingman"

"I'm gonna ignore you now Button" Sebastian's nonchalantly ended the conversation.

"Sebastian you can win the championship and the girl!" Jenson convincingly shouts.

Sebastian just gives him a shrug as he continues to eat. He smiles at the thought that maybe he will try Jenson's advice.

Victorious Vettel and a missing team mate.

Congratulations to the amazing drive of Sebastian Vettel which made him victorious from the four-way championship. He also boast two records with one being the youngest WDC champion and the other being Red Bull's first driver champion.

While celebrations are happening, it was evident that there was the absence of the Webber siblings. Mark Webber was seen congratulating Vettel the minute that they stepped out of the car. However, Mark wasn't seen after that and even in the parties. Also absent was Y/N Webber, dubbed as Sebastian's bestfriend. She was spotted in the Red Bull garage but she was absent as well during the celebrations.

Is there trouble brewing with the Webbers against the new world champion?

Seb: Hey, where are you? I have been looking for you everywhere Seb: Y/N are you there? sent by 8pm Seb: I'm going to the club with the team. I hope to see you there sent by 9:34 pm Y/N: Hi Seb! Congratulations with your WDC!! You know that I always believed that you will be a champion one day! I'm really really so happy and so proud of you. Y/N: I'm really sorry if I couldn't be there. I fainted around lap 45 but not to worry, its just my sugar levels. My phone went dead last night and I wasn't able to reply and congratulate right away. I'm really sorry. sent by 11:22 am Seb: Hey, I'm glad to hear you are okay. I just woke up from a massive hangover. I wish you have seen the party Seb: BTW, I have something to tell. Are you still at the hotel? sent by 2:06 pm Y/N: Oh, me and Mark took an early flight back to Melbourne. Parents were a bit worried. sent by 5:44 pm Seb: Okay see you. Y/N: What do you mean see you???? Seb: :)))))))))))))))))

It might be the high from winning the championship or maybe its the alcohol in his system but Sebastian was sure of his decisions.

Clothes are haphazardly thrown into the luggage while he conducts a quick sweep of the essentials he might need. He sent a quick text to everyone that might be needing him. As far as he knows, he has some time off before resuming with his media duties and such.

He is going to Australia.

[l0v3tast3]

SOMETHING LIKE A DEATH KISS | KEEGAN RUSS

keegan saves you from certain death in an active warzone. after some time of being stuck in the same safehouse, he helps you let down your guard.

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, fem!reader, keegan's kinda icky in this, he calls you "kid" among other pet names, unprotected s3x, dirty talk, this is pure smut, loss of virginity

✎ word count: 1.7k words (not proofread)

✎ author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite a bit lol i don't think it's my best work but i wanted to write something for keegan cuz edits of him took over my fyp for awhile (///￣ ￣///)

masterlist

"don't run."

keegan's impressed with you. just a few hours ago, you were so twitchy, eyes flitting every which way and muscles endlessly tensed. the gunfire he'd saved you from had you on constant high alert for days in the safehouse you were both holed up in.

now, you couldn't care less about your surroundings. not when he's sinking his cock into you centimeter by centimeter. the stretch stings, your body and your instincts clashing in wanting to buck your hips into his and wanting to squirm further up the bed. the hour that keegan spent working his tongue against your clit still wasn't enough, apparently.

"c'mon kid, you can take it," he breathes, right into your neck before he sinks his teeth in.

keegan's canines make you whimper and turn your head away, but it helps to distract you from the burning. you really didn't think his dick would fit in you- he told you not to worry about that.

your hands being pinned against the spring mattress is disguised as sweet as he intertwines his coarse fingers with yours. you know he's holding you down with that and his own weight over you to keep you from getting away. he knows you won't even try it, but he's just making sure.

"almost there, princess- doin' so good." more and more gravel grates in his voice the deeper he presses into you, while your voice gets whinier in a way he wants to hear so much more of.

your grip on his hands gets tighter when you realize that his dick isn't all the way in yet. you already feel so full, like your organs are being pushed to the sidelines to make more room for him. tears prick the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming feeling and keegan's lips spread into a bit of a grin when he sees them.

his hands were already getting harsh by the time you told him you'd never had sex. the hold he had on you had just gotten tighter, he'd kissed you rougher and promised that he would take such good care of you.

and he is, keegan would like to think, even when he pushes the last couple inches in much faster than the rest- he just can't help it when your little pussy is wrapping around him so tight and your breath is getting so shaky.

"ah-! kee-gan! haa- please-" you hiccup, brain matter practically melting out of your ears. the plea is a mix of wanting him to stay still and to start moving- you can't think well enough to figure out which option would overstimulate you more.

"aww- hah, see baby? told ya it would all fit- see, it's all here-" keegan's hand pulls yours down between your legs folded over his shoulders to press it down against your lower stomach. a cry pushes off of your tongue at the multiplied pressure. "fuck, gonna have to take you home with me, kid- this cunt was made for me."

the thought of keegan lifting your hips up and pressing his cock into you whenever he wants makes the little air you managed to get leave you lungs quick. if it means you get to feel this lava crawling through your veins again, you'd sit on his lap during the flight back home.

"yeah? hah, you want that? want me to take you with me? sweet girl- don't know what you're in for," he laughs. keegan's starting to creep his hips back, dragging his dick out of you until only the tip remained before he pushes back in a little bit faster.

"plea- mm, please- keegan, slo-w-" it's all you can do to choke out the bare minimum of your sentence when he's picking up the pace.

"what, you want me to slow down?" his patronizing tone is barely hidden. "you were doin' so well, where'd that go?"

keegan doesn't slow down but he stays at the same pace. there's some relief when he lets his hand up from your belly- he lets you regain control of the one hand and you use it to dig your nails into his forearm. you feel him cup the side of your face and he leans down until you're nose-to-nose. he looks smug.

"startin' to like it now, hm? y'just gotta listen to me, princess- i know just how to take care of you."

you know he's berating you for being nervous, but he is starting to become something you'll get addicted to. every time he bullies his cock back into you makes you believe him, believe that he knows what's best.

it's a losing battle trying to respond to him coherently. instead of wasting the little energy your body held onto, you tighten your legs around his waist and mash your lips against his. keegan groans into the sloppy kiss, hand moving to the back of your head to press you further into him.

he would swear that it's unintentional but his hips start smacking against yours, the sound evidence enough of how wet he'd made you. the hand still pinned against the bed is released in favor of grabbing your plush thigh. your knee is brought close to your face and you nearly wail.

"see? hah, what did i tell you?"

keegan's sighed words go straight over your head- he doesn't like that. he snakes his hand around and it grips your jaw, making your hazy eyes move to his.

sweat makes his face shine and his lips are cherry red; keegan's mussed hair and heavy gaze help to make him look almost as wrecked as you are. he leans over you until you can see the satisfaction of control in his eyes.

"what did i tell you?" he repeats. it's slower, demanding- enough to make you open your mouth against his hand.

as soon as you try to make a sound other than garbled moans and whines, keegan slams his hips into yours and keeps them there. the head of his cock grinds into your cervix and you choke on your air, nails drawing blood in his arms, eyes rolling back into your emptied head.

you feel the hand on your jaw jostle you a bit while he whispers patronizing sympathy, "hey, hey, stay with me kid," and "you can take me, princess, bein' such a good girl."

he keeps grinding deep into you, pressing your leg further into your chest- all your whimpers and strained pleas makes keegan's ego visibly inflate. it's something he knows he's already addicted to.

a spit out "fuck" leaves his mouth before he leans back up and effortlessly flips you over before you can even whine. it's no problem for keegan that you're body feels like it's made of jelly; you hips are hoisted up to meet his as he kneels behind you, already pushing his cock back into you.

it feels so different, like he's in your lungs now, your throat and your head. every bit of him invading every bit of you. you barely feel his hand drifting up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck and pushes the side of your face into the mattress. when you strain your neck you can see his smile.

you cum in the span of the next few minutes, body shaking and back arching while keegan fucks you hard enough to push you up the mattress. he's groaning, muttering out more praises, how tight you are around him, how pretty you look like this, how he'll never get tired of this.

keegan slows down as the white-hot pleasure cools off inside of you. collapsing fully into the mattress, he huffs a laugh and pulls away, smacking your ass before he sits beside you against the headboard.

muscles slowly relax while you lay content- that is until about ten seconds later when keegan easily hoists you up onto his lap. once he has you situated, he lifts you up to line up the head of his cock again. he leans in close until his lips are brushing against yours. every time you try to close the tiny gap, he pulls his head back.

"ah-! you di- mmh- you didn't-?" you stutter as he pulls you down with one hand, the other wrapping around your back to press your chests together. fog still covered your brain, slow to clear; you're surprised when his stamina supersedes what you generally heard about men in the past.

he leans his head back as your hips meet again, a deep moan pulled from his chest. "shit, kid- so fuckin' tight still-" he grits out, already thrusting up into you. a whiny yelp escapes your lips before you're hanging onto his shoulders as he bounces you up and down, meeting you halfway every time.

sparks crackle in your stomach, your nerves still overly sensitive, and before you can even recover from the last orgasm you're about to cum again. he ignores your half-spoken question in favor of watching your tits bounce and groaning filthy words.

the last straw that breaks the flood in you is when he leans you back against his bent knees to fuck into you harder. you lose awareness of everything except him. keegan's keeping you grounded with his hands on you while he makes you feel so weightless, helpless against the pleasure he causes.

a growled "fuck-" is the only warning you get before keegan pulls you tight against him and buries his cock into you to grind into your cervix again. his hips stutter and his body goes taut while he chokes out moans in your ear. weak whimpers still come out of you every little bit, only serving to make his nails dig into your soft skin harder.

"fuck..." he repeats, a calm sigh this time. he lifts his head from your shoulder and takes your face in his hands. "fuck, baby, you're comin' home with me."

keegan kisses you and you kiss him back in agreement.

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ likes, comments n reblogs are always appreciated!!

[mymegrokosmos]

B specifically asked not to be hurt but it's her bday weekend so instead of listening we are writing Yunho smut on this fine Friday evening. Anyway, uh yeah... best friend Yunho. 🔞

content : mentions of drinking, thigh riding, unprotected sex, slightly dubious consent, best friends Yunho and reader fooling around.

The evening started the way Thursdays typically did. You showed up at Yunho's cramped little excuse for an office, shared with the always courteous San and Seonghwa, to find him the only one working late. San was just packing up when you walked in, Wooyoung perched halfway on his desk chattering away as you offered them both a wave. You weaved your way past them, carefully avoiding Seonghwa's little shelf of lego creations, to drop down onto the corner of the desk Yunho typically had half covered in papers and miscellaneous stationary.

"Fancy meeting you here."

He glanced up from his grading, pen tapping against his bottom lip as he sat back with a sigh when he finished the page. "Hello stranger."

You smiled as he ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. It was always in disarray after these classes. His TA position stressing him out more this semester than it usually did. He was better at managing most of the time but his course load was heavy lately and he'd been staying later and later to finish marking and assignments. The balance wasn't exactly work life balancing and you had yet to see him actually sleep once this week.

He ran a hand over his face when you quirked a brow at him, glancing between him and the pile of papers on his desk. "When are these marks due in?"

"Tuesday."

"How many do you have left to get through?"

"Maybe twenty more? I should be able to finish a few more tonight and then run through the rest tomorrow. Then I can sit down and study for that Stats exam Sunday and help you with our presentation Monday."

"And are you planning on sleeping any time between now and then?"

He sighed. "y/n you know I'm doing my best here. I just don't have time."

You shook your head. "Finish that one and I'll borrow Hwa's or Sannie's desk space to sit down and get through more of our presentation. Then we can go back to mine, since Mingi is definitely not going to let you get any sleep tonight, and I'll help you with the rest of these tomorrow."

He blinked up at you. "You've already done like three quarters of the work on this presentation."

"So it won't be much more when I make up 85% and you have a fresh, functioning, brain to look over everything before the final draft Monday. Plus, you're my best bet at actually passing stats and if we're going to be studying all weekend we can at least get some rest in between. And I have plenty of caffeine."

He groaned. "Please do not even talk to me about caffeine right now."

His leg jiggled and you laughed. "On your fifth americano of the day or something are we?"

He shrugged and held up four fingers, biting his lip. You shook your head.

"I'm not even going to ask. Speedrun your marking, I'll be over there and then I'm buying you a drink on the way back to my apartment. If anyone deserves it, it's you. And maybe it'll counteract some of the blood in your caffeine system."

A laugh and then you both turned to set back about your own tasks.

You hummed softly as you worked, only glancing at the time once you'd finished the last section of the powerpoint. Yunho's fresh eyes would catch a ton of small details you'd missed but that was fine. It was why he was always the final run-through on these things. You cracked your back and stretched, pressing save and closing your laptop. You found Yunho pretty much exactly where you had left him.

He sat hunched over his desk, chin resting in one hand as a red pen tapped against one cheek while he poked his tongue into the other. He was so focused or lost in whatever train of thought he was currently jotting down in the margins of the paper he was nearly done that he didn't even start when you came over. You leaned back against the corner of Hwa's desk and watched. He adjusted the glasses on his face as he finished and you bit your lip as he cracked his neck.

"If you keep doing that one of these days you're going to break something important."

It always made you just a little nervous. He grinned, dropping the pen as both arms came up over his head in a stretch you could almost feel. He flopped back into his chair, legs spread, and adjusted the glasses that had begun slipping down over the bridge of his nose. You just sighed and dropped into his lap.

"Done for the night?"

His forehead dropped forward to rest against the back of your shoulder as you cleaned up his desk, hands resting on your thighs as his fingers drew abstract shapes on your jeans.

"Mhm, if I start another one right now I think my head might just explode."

You smiled and started shuffling his things into a pile. "Help me clean up and then we can leave. I have a bottle of soju or seven with your name on them in the fridge."

His little cheer was muffled against the back of your shirt as you both got up.

It didn't take long to walk to your building, your apartment wasn't far from the building all his classes were in this semester and Yunho's long legs forced you to walk a little faster than you would have alone. His presence did make the dark campus feel a little less foreboding so you stuck close as you headed inside and up to your unit.

He followed you in like he always did, at home here since he'd lived part time in your apartment before he and Mingi moved in together last fall. He was more than familiar. You dropped your things in the living room and headed to the kitchen to see what flavours of soju you had available. There was a selection.

It had maybe been a bad idea to suggest alcohol on an empty stomach.

You found yourself half naked, having lost a round of strip poker or two before the takeout arrived, leaning against Yunho's shoulder as you both burst into laughter for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. The food was great and you shoved another bite into Yunho's mouth before he could launch into another story.

"Please shut up and eat your noodles before I suffocate. I think I broke a rib just now."

He chuckled, taking the chopsticks from you and scarfing down the rest of the container while you wiggled around trying to get your bones to sit right again. Your ribs and face hurt from laughing and you were pretty sure you'd cried off most of your mascara already. You took a deep breath.

"Why do I ever listen to you? You're so ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned and you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted to his lips, lingering a little as you reached up to brush a bit of sauce from the corner. His breath hitched and you blinked up at your best friend.

"Okay?"

He nodded.

"Sorry, I should have asked first."

He shook his head, hand coming up to capture your wrist. You knew, in theory, that they were large but the ease with which his long fingers circled your wrist had you staring. This was new. Or was it?

You didn't think you were that tipsy.

"Hey Yun?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you pinch me please?"

He smirked. "I can think of something better."

You blinked. His face hovered closer, moving slowly. You didn't stop him. Then his lips were on yours and oh, you were so not dreaming. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making you squeak into his mouth and he laughed as he pulled away.

"I can't believe we've never done that before."

You reached up to touch your lips, and then to pinch him.

He jumped. "Yah! Hey! You can just tell me if you didn't like it."

You smiled. "I did like it. I was just making sure I didn't black out and accidentally dream this."

He sighed. "No, we're both still awake. Was that really necessary?"

You shrugged and then you were leaning up to kiss him again. He tasted like soju, what was new there, and the strawberry chapstick Hwa had bought him for his birthday last month. His lips were soft and everything but gentle as they worked against yours. You lit up when his tongue parted your lips and plunged into your mouth, sighing against his lips.

He was a good kisser, you'd give him that. Your hands found his wide shoulders and you braced yourself as you climbed into his lap to get closer. Something about Yunho was just addictive and as long as he was good with where this was going, you didn't want to stop.

He was right, why had you never made out before? You'd definitely gotten drunk and tried other things together over the years. It should have been only natural that this was on the list of experimentation, you'd known him since high school after all, but kissing was just one of those things you'd never dared to initiate with Yunho before now.

His hands were everywhere and you found yourself whining into his mouth when they slid down to cup your ass. He squeezed and you rocked forward, gasping as he adjusted you like you weighed nothing. You let Yunho manhandle you, moving you from his lap to straddling one large thigh. You nipped at his jaw when he pressed your hips down, guiding them over his still jeans-clad leg.

"Yunho." You whined.

It was unfair that he was still so clothed while you sat there in just your underwear. It was a matching set at least but neither of you was really paying attention to that particular detail. You tugged on his shirt and he leaned back to watch you unbutton it, hand coming up to fold behind his head. His eyes were dark as they trailed over you and you could feel the heat pooling in your gut.

"Tell me to stop and we can."

You shook your head. "If you stop now I'm disowning you. Hongjoong is going to be my new best friend."

He laughed and leaned in to press kisses down your neck, humming softly against your skin as you finally managed to get him out of his shirt, shoving it off over his shoulders.

He pulled you back in, one hand on your waist guiding you to rock against his flexed thigh as the other came up to cup your breast. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are like this?"

You hummed. "A mess?"

He shrugged, the hand on your breast moving to unclip your bra in one smooth motion. "For me, yeah, that's hot."

"Mm, because you're the one making me desperate?"

He nodded, head dipping down to catch a nipple in his mouth. You gasped, hand tangling in his hair and he groaned as you tugged when his tongue flicked over your skin.

"You have no idea how desperate you make me. It's nice being the one with the upper hand for once."

Before you could ask what, exactly, he meant by that his hands and mouth busied themselves making it impossible to think. You gave in, only getting a minute to breathe when he flipped you around and pulled you back against his chest.

You leaned your head back, tilting your neck to give his lips better access while his fingers moved to trace your wetness over your panties. He bit down on your shoulder when you gasped, fingers trailing under the fabric to ghost over where you needed him the most. He groaned against your skin and you gasped when one finger slid inside you, slowly sinking up to the knuckle.

"Fuck."

"Mm, too much?"

You shook your head, hand grasping his wrist. "No. No, don't stop."

The chuckle against your neck had you shivering. "Oh, greedy tonight are we? My good girl wants another?"

You struggled to force your eyes open. "Please Yun, feels so good. Fill me up. Please."

He didn't ask again, sinking two more fingers knuckle deep as they continued to pump in and out at his pace. He worked you fast and didn't let up until you were shaking, clawing at his thighs and begging. You were pretty sure you'd started crying and you didn't care, the orgasm that swept over you was worth it.

When you caught your breath enough to whimper his name again he was already pulling out his cock, groaning as he adjusted you on his lap again, legs hooking underneath yours to keep you spread open for him.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you cum."

He was stroking himself with the hand that, moments ago, had been mostly inside you. You forced your thighs to cooperate a little longer as you turned to straddle him properly again, hips rocking as his tip slid along your slit, now slick with your own release. He moaned and you found yourself smirking.

Oh, so this was what he had been on about. It did feel good, seeing him such a mess for you, especially when you had barely done anything.

"Let me, please, don't need to be inside but can I...?"

His pathetic whines had you biting your lip and nodding. "Yes, yes Yun. Use me however you need."

You swear he almost came at those words, stopping to stare you dead in the eye and then he was guiding his length along your slit like a man possessed. He felt so good you let your eyes slide shut, hands anchored on his shoulders as you felt him slip inside.

"Mm... just the tip. Please y/n."

His begging nearly undid you. You nodded, hips rolling with his and then suddenly he was grasping you by both hips and slamming up into you. The size of him knocked the breath from your lungs and he groaned.

"Fuck, shit, sorry. Just felt so good. Couldn't help it."

You rocked your hips a little, testing the stretch, and his hips stuttered. You'd never seen him like this and fuck if it wasn't more than a little intoxicating. The breathy moans, the whines as he held himself still just long enough for you to adjust to the sheer length of him pressed fully inside you.

You both paused as he pressed a hand to your pelvis and you caught a glimpse of him bulging in your abdomen. You gasped, he groaned, and then you were being pressed down into the couch while he hovered over you.

"Please please let me do that again."

You guided his hand, back arching as he slammed into you. You watched as he traced his fingers over the outline, cursing under his breath, and whimpered when his pace suddenly went from manic to man on a mission. He was rutting into you so hard he had to hold your waist to keep you from sliding all the way up the length of the couch but neither of you noticed the way the sofa creaked beneath you with every snap of his hips.

By the time he pulled out, hand fisting his cock as he painted your stomach, you were already seeing stars again. You arched up against him, whining and moaning his name as your hand slid down to your clit, fingers working you through your climax while he caught his breath.

"Who knew all needed was to get railed?" You teased, when you glanced up and met his eyes.

He laughed, sweat dripping down his forehead as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. That set you off and then you were both shaking with laughter.

"At least let me clean you up before we make another mess."

[0catiiyori0]

some headcanons for @zeivira's crack au "No sleep for the wicked" that is invading my head and is living rent free and is stoping me from writing my own au (and study) so ya let me release the drain

I honestly can't stop thinking abt how garfiel would first react to Subaru's "illness". maybe because I don't know if the information that the witch cult members are also always sleepy is widely known, but if it is- my boi Subaru must have the strongest coffee in his disposal because that boy won't be sleeping for 3 days straight (or was it two?). I imagine that he'll sleep the first two loops but then his scent is so strong and to add to that his sleeping "illness" would make ryuzu's alarm bells skyrocket and it'll be way too harder than the og white rabbit loop lmao. but if it isn't I think that'll make garfiel think of Subaru to be way less harmless. can't really do anything if he's unconscious for a couple of hours everyday ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. but i don't think he'll sleep anyway in the winning loop, just like in canon the difference is that he'll keep trying to stay awake for as long as he can. and when things calm down beatrice would force him to sleep and then garfiel would panic cuz he beat the shit out of him, him the same person who he has gained respect for and now after all that he had done turns out he has the same deadly illness that took the Royal family yet is doing miracles, I used to think that garfiel won't be able to stan subaru more than he already does, but that? ya well I'll be damned if he didn't.

now I didn't read the novels cuz I'm waiting for season 3 to end but I've gotten spoilered pretty good to know the general idea of what's going to happen (cries) . so rainhard, MY BOI IS GOING TO BE SO SAD THAT HE DIDN'T KIDNAP SUBARU WHEN HE HAD THE CHANCE LMAO. like yeah he was able to find the supposedly last royal member alive (*cough*we will act like cappella doesn't exist*cough*) and he's happy to serve them again, but Subaru has the same illness that took them in the first place, so i think he'll feel some kind of responsibility to help him even if he can't have him in the same camp, that sense of responsibility to be able to defeat the illness that took them and that might take his friend too, he couldn't protect the people he was supposed to protect, so the least he can do to them is getting rid of what took them. He needs to help Subaru, because of him now, because he couldn't beat the illness Subaru is suffering, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone succumb to it again. I know that the felt camp would be also heavily included in the research along crusch camp now lol.

"The tale of a hero fighting the world, cursed with the same fate as the people of the throne, the royal family. The Sleeping Beauty Illness. Yet is still making miracles after miracle, serving his lady, fighting monsters, saving lives. Truly, for he is the tragic hero"...ya you'll hear this in a bar lol. (or sung by Liliana lol).

Y'all... we're missing something here... THE PILLOW LAP XHJAJXBSJ, EMILIA WOULD BE SO TERRIFIED OF THE BOY WHO CRIED ALL OVER HER ONLY FOR HIM TO FAINT SUDDENLY JSJDJJS "wdm you were sleeping??? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD ARE YOU OK?? ARE YOU SICK??? that's it we're taking you to a doctor" and subaru would be so panicked cuz he's ok he doesn't need a doctor!!! there are way more important things such as THE SHAMAN THAT'S GONNA TARGET THE VILLAGE SOON. rip my guy...

I want to point out more but this has been sitting in my drafts FOR A WHILE so ya hope you like it sensei <3

[whohasthecards]

What if Goose was alive and eventually, after the mission, he meets the Dagger squad, and although he is enamored with all of them ("You can't fucking talk Mav, you literally already have adoption papers drafted-", "You're just as bad as your husband, Ice."), everyone notices how he's very fond of Hangman.

Bradley especially doesn't understand as he has told his dad about the incident during the mission training where he almost threw hands with the younger man, Hangman did apologize to Rooster and Maverick after the mission, but still-

Deep inside, he knows that his dad was never the type to hold on to grudges harshly. (Unless it's about pranks. That's a different story.)

---

"Sir?" A voice behind Goose meekly asks while he was stirring a big pot of stew to feed all the old and baby aviators he decided to feed today.

Goose put a lid to leave the stew to simmer as he turned and smiled at Hangman, the younger man hunched over himself and fidgeting, a far cry from the cocky aviator his son and his friends talks about.

"What can I do for you, son? Also, no need for that formal sir nonsense, I'm retired now," Goose says smiling, hoping to ease the kid.

It seems to make the kid tense up even worst, but the kid inhaled and, "I would like to apologize for my comments towards Rooster regarding you and their relationship with one another. I was out of line, and I'm sorry. Thank you for inviting me to your home despite my actions. I understand that you may have only invited me, so that I won't be left out when you invited the whole squad, and I would just like to let you know that that's unnecessary so if you would like me to leav-"

"Woah, woah, kid, slow down," Goose said as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you for your apology, I already forgave you when you saved my son and best friend's lives, you're a good man, and I knew you were a great man when you apologized to them. I invited you because I wanted you to be here, son, and don't tell them I said this," Goose leaned forward letting his voice become a soft whisper, "Mav, Rooster, and Ice wanted you to be here too, you're wanted here, kid." Goose said squeezing his shoulder. "I should actually be thanking you even more for saving my son and his stupid godfather's lives, 'smile and wave' tactic, my ass," Goose said chuckling a bit and shaking his head.

He had a front row seat to see Hangman's dumbfounded face transformed a light shade of pink as he averted his eyes.

"I don't like leaving my team behind," Hangman muttered shuffling his feet. "I didn't want to, but I was spare, I left them to go, but my job was to make them come home, I'm glad I was able too." Seresin said looking at his feet.

"I was in the navy, son, pretty sure launching against orders wasn't your job," Goose said smiling softly, "but thank you for doing it anyways."

Seresin shuffled his feet, as he went back to fiddling with his fingers, before he straightened up and look at the older man in the eye. "Well, a proper thank you involves gifts, right? How about I eat everythin' your cooking, hell, even give me first dibs as one of the stars the the show," Hangman said smirking, a confident mask settling into place.

Reminded Goose of a certain aviator.

Goose simply chuckled at that and patted the boy's shoulder one more time before turning back to the food.

"You can get first dibs if you start throwing the salad together," Goose said nodding his head to the kitchen counter beside him with the ingredients for the salad. "Get to chopping and throwing lieutenant," Goose said teasingly.

Seresin put a heart to his chest and gasps, "Making your guest work for his food? Blasphemy. Goes against my heart-core beliefs." Despite the complaints, Seresin grabbed the knife and started unwrapping the vegetables.

"Does hard work go against your beliefs?" Goose teased as he grabbed more ingredients from the fridge.

"Nope, but I didn't think I was the host for the day. Your old age catching up to you, old man?"

Goose huffed out a breathe as he passed by Seresin on the way back to the stove, "Sure, kid, let's go with that," he humored. He set the new ingredients down and ruffled the brat's hair, ignoring the squawk of protest. "Don't forget to rinse the vegetables before chopping."

---

The dagger squad started growing closer to one another, they were on leave and from what he knew, they would be stationed on the same side of the country. He told Bradley that they were invited to come over to his house, and he knew that Ice and Mav have offered their house and hangar to the squad as well.

It ended up with the Daggers seeing each other several times a week.

It was adorable how close they are.

("They keep on getting into stupid arguments and rough housing one another," Mav complained dramatically from Goose's couch. "Nearly took out my table!"

Goose raised a brow at him, "Gee wonder who that reminds me off."

"Makes me wonder if they're grown, sometimes," Mav said shaking his head.

"Kids will be kids, at least they're comfortable with you to show it, plus you were much worst when you were their age, and still worst now."

"Rude.")

He and Jake started cooking more, the kid was an excellent cook, especially behind the grill.

"Jake! I bought some steak for dinner tonight, want to help me grill it up for you and the team?" Goose said, smiling and waving his fresh catch from the grocery store.

"Too much steak is bad for your cholesterol, ya know," Jake drawled but went closer to grab the food, anyways.

"Rude, I'm not that old," Goose said rolling his eyes.

"You were alive and thriving in the 80s," Jake snarked back.

He gave the boy a light head swap for that muttering how the younger generation had no manners these days-

---

"You ever interested in reading comics?" Goose asked one day when Jake was sitting on his sofa.

"Uhhh, like the movies?" Jake said frowning looking up from his phone.

"Blasphemous, stand up, they are not like the movies, they are a different form of art."

---

"You ever baked a cake before?" Goose asked letting Jake into his home.

"I feel like this is going to become another case of me and experiencing unpaid labor," Jake drawled.

"Your payment will be in mocha-extra-chocolate cake, is that acceptable?" Goose said moving towards the kitchen, smirking as he heard the boy's footsteps following him.

"Can we put cherries in them?" Jake asked moving to clear the counter.

"Sure, son," Goose said smiling.

---

"Why is he wearing my shirt!" Bradley exclaimed pointing at Jake who was chewing cereal at the kitchen table.

"He came here after his jog, and his shirt was drenched with sweat, we wouldn't want him to get sick, would we?" Goose said setting another bowl for his son, as he sipped on his coffee.

He didn't know how those two had so much energy in the morning.

Bradley pouted and sat down, "He better not touch my other stuff."

"Why would I want to touch your other stuff, I don't want anymore chicken feathers on me," Jake said wrinkling his nose.

"Asshole."

"Dickwad."

"Jerk."

"Chicken shit."

"Okay boys, enough, and eat your cereal. Go play nice or something after breakfast," Goose said rolling his eyes as he ruffled both of their hairs as he walked to the living room to watch the morning news. Leaving the sounds of protest behind him.

Children.

[budd-ie]

Desperately need to break down two people and one cup of water because I have like 10 drafts about xianle trio that I Can't Post because they all feed off of conclusions from each of their answers, except we haven't established what those conclusions are yet. So this is where that starts.

I once had a wake up in a cold sweat realization (the first of many) that the three of them represent three different paths in their respective answers, and how these answers give us so much insight into who they really are and how they typically act. And I realize this is probably a very basic and prevalent thing (especially come book 3) but I haven't seen it broken down recently, so I'd like to. But mostly I need it as my context and support for my other future claims or else they might not make any sense haha. So I’ll be relating these answers directly to events in book 3. Let's get into it.

“Two walked the desert, about to die from thirst, and there was only one cup of water. The one who drinks lives, the one who doesn’t dies. If you were a god, who would you give that cup of water to— don’t speak yet, I’ll ask the other two and see how they answer.”

Mu Qing's answer:

“May I ask who those two people are, what their natures are like, and of their merits? A decision can only be made once all the details are known.”

Feng Xin's answer:

“I don’t know! Don’t ask me—tell them to decide amongst themselves!”

Xie Lian's answer:

“Give them another cup."

TLDR:

When faced with a choice such as this...

Xie Lian will try to save both parties at all costs, even if that cost is himself. His sense of justice is the strongest above all and believes that innocent people should never have to suffer.

Feng Xin will put someone else in charge of the choice and act on their behalf. He isn't as good at making decisions, and feels most comfortable standing behind someone else he trusts.

Mu Qing will choose whatever option brings the best/most desirable outcome that is within his control without sacrificing himself. He is a logical thinker above all else and is used to making moral sacrifices to find the optimal yet most realistic outcome of a situation.

(Book 3 and some book 6 spoilers ahead)

We know that Xie Lian's desire to expand the resource is beautiful but impossible, and we know that giving equal amounts of half the cup of water to both people will still leave them both as dead as not giving it at all. We also know that he learned his lesson the hard way and doesn't stop learning it even 800 years later. We know how Xianle fell and we know that it was doomed from the beginning; there was no saving it, but even if there was, he would have to choose between Xianle and Yong'an. Finally, we know that when he has nothing left to give, he will give himself up for the outcome he desires. We spend so much time with Xie Lian that I won't focus on trying to prove what's already been proven. Instead, I'll focus on the other two.

Mu Qing's answer is unpalatable to most people, because it sounds like he accepts being put in charge of answering the question "who deserves to live and who deserves to die?" It's easy to judge him for his willingness to make these kinds of sacrifices, but this is the exact nature of the question, and the exact situation they find themselves in so often. By both this answer and patterns within his actions, I think Mu Qing can best be described as an extremely logical thinker who will choose whatever option brings the best/most desirable outcome without sacrificing himself too far. That doesn't mean he'll never push his luck, but this is the algorithmic way we most often see him thinking.

By the terms of the riddle, the most logical option is that one person gets water and one person doesn’t, and the giver will decide who gets it to avoid conflict. And Mu Qing doesn’t choose randomly, either; he wants to choose based on their characters, their backgrounds, their merits, etc. So the other two may be treating everyone equally, but sometimes that’s just not within your control. Mu Qing is an incredibly logical person, so to optimize the good that can come from this action, he will make the choice. It’s not easy, and could end either way, but at least someone is guaranteed to live. In fact, this is the only outcome in which someone is guaranteed to live. I'll summarize some other examples of his thought process in the future, but I'll focus on the most relevant example for now.

In book 3, Mu Qing is the first one to suggest cursing Yong’an with human face disease in order to save Xianle. A "despicable" choice as they conclude, but Xie Lian, I will add, does thoroughly consider his suggestions before declining, and while the persuasion is ineffective, it isn't 100% ineffective. In the end though, Xie Lian is weighing the option of “people in the capital probably live and the people of Yong’an as well as the dead suffer for it” and he isn’t willing to make this bargain in the end. He doesn’t know if it could backfire and isn’t satisfied with the amount of bad that could come from it. Mu Qing, on the other hand, is adamant about this decision and gets frustrated that Xie Lian won’t make it. He's even excited about his answer, not because he wants people to die, but because he found themselves a viable way out. It feels so easy to him, because he’s weighing the net good of “we fucking live” and “we fucking die.” Turns out living is a lot more appealing than dying, especially for a character who canonically loves his life and is terrified of death. Isn’t this the same mindset as the rest of the common people?

I've established before that Xie Lian is not the common people. Growing up poor though, Mu Qing is like, common people extraordinaire. Unlike Xie Lian, he’s long since accepted that not everybody can be saved, not everybody can be placated, some people are good and nice and some people suck and are not. Mu Qing is used to making sacrifices for the greater good, ignoring morality to a digestible extent, because it’s something that common people have to do to get by. This situation reminds me of this quote from when the townsfolk are getting admonished for mutilating themselves to get rid of human face disease:

“Your Highness is invincible, so of course you'd call us foolish. But aren’t our conditions so desperate that we had no choice but to try foolish methods?!”

And maybe we fixate a lot on “not everybody can be saved” but I think what matters to Mu Qing is more that some people can be saved. Why are we dawdling doing good because it’s not enough good? Don’t we learn from this that just one person enough? Mu Qing understands that in order to have a chance at saving themselves a decision must be made, and he tries to make his point clear when he says the following:

“Before they reach their bad end, we will have already perished! You don’t have a third path and there is no second cup of water. Wake up, Your Highness! You’re running out of time.”

The amount of suffering the common people have endured until now allows the average person to surpass the moral debacle and choose life above all else. Why did Xie Lian try to steal during his first banishment? Because he was so desperate to save himself and his family that morality became the lesser merit. When faced with the threat of human face disease and the solution of killing just one person to save themselves, the people who stab Xie Lian live, and the one who refuses the decision dies a horrible death. Does Mu Qing make a little more sense now? He saw not only a way to survive, but the expected solution to the problem, and he jumped at it. We as the audience can fixate on the moral implications of his decisions because we aren’t the ones making the decisions, nor are we affected by either outcome.

Speaking of a person not making decisions, this is where Feng Xin becomes relevant. His answer is to make no decision at all, leave it up to them to decide who drinks and who doesn't. While he's absolved from the moral quandary, this path doesn't really solve anything. There might be a chance where they choose peacefully who should drink, but it's much more realistic to expect them to slaughter each other over the resource before either of them have the chance to drink it.

So when faced with a major decision like this, what is Feng Xin most likely to do?

Entrust it to someone else, like Xie Lian.

As much as I love him, our poor boy's arrows are a bit sharper than he is. What’s he doing while Xie Lian and Mu Qing talk about curses?

At first, Feng Xin had listened to their argument glumly, and because he couldn’t contribute any better ideas, he didn’t join in.

Not a whole lot. Actually, he stands silently until Mu Qing insults Xie Lian. After that, he shoves Mu Qing back and suddenly starts going off on him, saying things like

“With an apathetic person like him, you don’t usually see any sign that he actually cares about the Kingdom of Xianle. But now suddenly he’s anxious?”

and especially:

“You really think I can’t tell that you think His Highness is a fool? I can tolerate your sarcasm and those rolling eyes, I can tolerate you always standing where you shouldn’t in the Upper Court. You like to show off and it’s hardly the first time you’ve pulled this shit, so fine, go show off, you’re not good enough to wow the heavens anyway. His Highness doesn’t mind, so I don’t give a shit either. But since you’re gonna cross the line, I’m not gonna hold back. Listen up! I’m not surprised you’d leap at the chance to use despicable means, but His Highness is His Highness—no matter what he decides, you better respect it. Don’t you dare be so critical, and don’t forget who the fuck you are!”

This is only an excerpt of the rant because the first part isn't as relevant but this whole scene is so crazy. Crazy because it's so raw (that last line is so jaw dropping to me like actually. If someone said all that to me I’d go rogue) and also because it tells us so much about them.

First, "despicable" is actually a word Xie Lian used earlier when he said the following:

“Absolutely not! Don’t forget what we called them when they attacked the innocent civilians of the capital: despicable. If we do the same thing, won’t we become just as despicable? How would we be any different?”

Which means this isn't completely Feng Xin's own judgment. Right now, he's just using Xie Lian's opinion as an in to justify his own personal rage. Xie Lian isn't even calling Mu Qing despicable; he fully believes in Mu Qing, understands how he came to his conclusion, and doesn't blame him for having a temper (he already knows he's sensitive and prone to it, he defends him saying he’s “just anxious over the current situation”). While we do know it definitely reflects Feng Xin's moral opinion on attacking innocents (“If it really was them, then I’ll lose respect for them. Fight honestly on the battlefield if you have the ability; don’t use shady tricks to harm innocent civilians!”), it's less reflective of his intentions in this specific instance.

Second, this whole rant is fueled by nothing but pent up rage that was sparked by Mu Qing insulting Xie Lian, giving him a hard time, and going against his decision. Feng Xin judges him hard for his "despicable" choice, but Feng Xin doesn't even have any other opinions on how to solve the actual problem at hand. His opinion is whatever Xie Lian decides, for his highness is so smart and virtuous, clearly that must be the right one, especially when compared to that of a humble servant.

But what would Feng Xin do if Xie Lian decided Mu Qing was right? What if Xie Lian decided that they desperately needed to curse all Yong'an citizens to die so Xianle might be able to live? Would this still be a despicable decision to Feng Xin if Xie Lian decided it wasn't so bad? I have reason to believe that his sense of morality, though great, may be slightly lesser than his sense of loyalty (assuming the person he is loyal to is virtuous and acceptable to him, such is Xie Lian). This is supported by how in the revised book 6 scene, Feng Xin doesn’t leave because he’s questioning Xie Lian’s morality, he leaves because Xie Lian relieves him of his duty and he obeys the order. He’s surprised when this happens and seems hesitant, despite it all. While we don’t really have any specific instance testing this hypothetical, my hypothesis is that any moral complications he could have would come after acting on his highness's word, and if Xie Lian said this was the right choice, he would rationalize it (I also think there’s a graph with an intersection between his morality and loyalty after which morality will start surpassing loyalty when the situation is pushed far enough to warrant it). In any case, the consequences of their actions will not fall on Feng Xin's shoulders, so he doesn't think too hard about the implications of the actions, he just excels at following orders from the boss; that's why its so easy for him to make these judgments.

I also think this explains the way he acts during book 1 where he always looks like he has something to say and never chooses to, always looking just a little lost at what he’s supposed to be doing. He’s given a choice of talk to Xie Lian or not talk to him, but he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do and can’t figure it out on his own, so he chooses the safe option of doing nothing. He’s always looked towards Xie Lian to make decisions, but he doesn’t have that anymore. We actually see him start getting more confident in decision making as the book goes on, like when he congratulated him for his 3000 lanterns (I like how he doesn’t question where they came from though!).

Anyways, I forgot how important book 3 was for characterization of these three because everything they do can be drawn back here. The number one reason I like this story is the way every single character is so individual and has very specific motivations and personalities that can and will clash in very specific ways with other characters, which is how a lot of the conflicts arise in the first place (instead of throwing people at a plot and hoping they can carry it). It makes it so interesting when you know why they act the way they do. Also, this isn't a complete character summary by any means, there’s obviously more to these fellas that I didn’t talk about. I can think of other instances that support these conclusions, but because this is already such a long post maybe I'll make a masterlist or something and link them when I finish them (thanks!)

[midnight-mourning]

1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

[whiteheartlight]

hey I wrote a fic while my internet was down about the world's grumpiest Toa while he and the others were traveling back to Mata Nui with the Matoran. please let me know if you enjoy. Onewa is such a bastard. but a bastard with nuance?? I've always thought he and Vakama should get to talk after the Visorak arc

.

It would actually be pretty cool, Onewa thinks, if Nuju didn't manage to concuss himself so bad while he did it.

He was up there where he needed to be, that's the thing. And Onewa's not afraid of heights like Whenua is, but when that bird smashed through the window of their airship and tried its damnedest to get Vakama by the waist, Onewa did think to himself, for a moment: I'm a Toa of Stone. Maybe the others should handle this.

Nuju might have intuited that thought, or maybe he had just been itching for some action after being stuck on a ship with the rest of them for weeks on end, but one way or another, he pulled out those ice spikes and practically leapt out the window to go after that over-sized set of knives on wings.

“Can't we just let the poor thing go?” Whenua had called, clinging queasily to a nearby support pole as the wind rocked over him. “It was probably hungry!”

“So it gets to eat Vakama?” Matau replied. “Or do you think it needs two of us?”

“If we let it go it could go after the Matoran spheres,” Vakama called over the wind. “We need to at least knock it out of the sky!”

“I'll handle the draft it's riding!” Matau shouted, leaping out the window and spreading his wings. He dipped hard before he caught the wind and came back up towards the bird, one hand curving through the air as he redirected the draft.

Unfortunately, he didn't redirect himself to avoid it. The bird panicked at the sudden change, flapping hard to try and course-correct, and Onewa heard Matau go “oh, whoops” before a metal wing was slicing towards his own. Matau disengaged his wings to avoid the blow, and he instantly started to plummet.

Onewa grabbed him neatly by the back of the armor from the side of the ship.

“Can you watch it, Matau?” he snarled at him. “What a stupid fucking stupid way to die that would have been.”

“Aw, were you worried?” asked Matau, making a fake pout.

“There would have been a whole village of Matoran with no one around because you weren't paying attention. Do you even care about that?”

“Spirits, Onewa, I would have quick-caught myself. Don't be a stuck crab about everything.”

“You two both focus!” Vakama called sharply, and Onewa swore before hauling Matau back in to safety. The bird swooped past them again, enormous talons reaching for either one of them before it darted back out again. He probably did need to focus, but honestly, in that moment, he felt so angry he could scream.

Look, it's not just been this, okay? Ever since Vakama got back from his stupid fucking solo trip that he still won't even tell them about, the others have been wearing on his nerves like they're getting paid good widgets to do so. He doesn't even really know why. They're just all... the same. They're all the same beings they always were. Weren't they supposed to change over time? Not just Vakama putting his shadows to rest, or Matau toning down the sarcasm, or whatever you want to call what any of them have been through. Wasn't there supposed to be a moment where he looked around and realized that they were all – you know – professionals?

Aren't they supposed to feel like real Toa?

Instead they're here, on a busted old airship, trying to caravan a pack of comatose Matoran across unexplored waters because they couldn't save their real homeland. It seemed to strike him in the chest for a second, as the shadow of the bird's wings passed over him. No matter how many times he thinks it, it always punches him. He always thinks to himself Lhikan expected more from us.

He was thinking it again when Nuju distracted him by finding his footing along the side of the ship. Onewa couldn't even see what support beam or structuring he was standing on, but, with his ice spikes in the side of the ship's metal to steady him, Nuju got up.

“Oh, wow, he's up there,” said Whenua, and then promptly covered his eyes with his hands. “Be careful!”

“Matau, be ready to catch him if he falls,” Vakama ordered, and Matau bounded back into the sky. Nokama had a selection of clouds pouring down a fence of rain, bringing the predator bird towards Nuju, there on his feet, and he pulled an arm free, striking it through the air like he was giving a command. Onewa saw the light catch brilliantly on the heavy ice that formed along the creature's wings, sending it swerving, shrieking, and then falling. It came close to Nuju, who leapt away gracefully, back towards the entrance of the ship –

And, in one unfortunate push from the bird's spiraling wing, cracked his head hard against the edge of the open window.

“Oh!” groaned both Whenua and Nokama at the same time, everyone shifting towards Nuju in a collective alarm. Vakama grabbed Nuju's shoulders from the front while Matau swooped back inside to grab him from behind. He was only limp for a second or two, a white hand staggering up to grab at his head, but they had all heard that metal clunk of his cerebral casing connecting solidly with the harsh edge.

“Is it cracked?” asked Onewa tersely, coming to stand at Vakama's shoulder, hand out-stretched with nothing to do. Vakama was looking at Nuju's casing with a forger's eye, searching for any fractures.

“I don't think so. It'll be the inside we should worry about. Nuju, you need to sit down.”

Nuju was trying to get onto his feet without needing support, but not having much luck at it.

“I'm fine,” he snapped, voice shaky. “I handled it.”

The attitude is what's really getting Onewa mad, now that they're all here, crowded around Nuju. Onewa scoffs, shaking his head at him. “Seriously? You could have fallen too. We couldn't have just handled that from inside the ship? A couple ice darts wouldn't have taken it down the same? Oh, you were just aching for a fight.”

“Onewa,” warns Nokama, trying to get Nuju to at least lean back on them. “Not now.”

“Don't worry, sister, I think the odds of him remembering any part of today are pretty slim after our resident genius's latest idea.”

“Nuju, sit down,” Vakama insists, pulling his shoulders. Nuju's being such a pain. Is this how Toa act?

“I don't want you all touching me!”

“We're trying to stop you from falling. Let us get you checked over and then we will all back off, I promise.”

Nuju grabs at his mask again, groaning, but he doesn't let them lower him. He grips at the wall and then shoves Matau's arm off him. “Brother, just one second,” Nokama's telling him gently. “You're okay, we've got you.”

“I'm fine, get off!”

“Oh, by the spirits, Nuju,” Onewa hisses, something molten rising up in him. “Just sit down and shut up.”

Nuju's legs give out from under him so fast he nearly smacks his head a second time, but Matau scoops him up with a yelp. Pale blue eyes pierce Onewa with a fury that needs no words, but as his mouth fails to glow, Onewa realizes he can't talk.

Something races down his spine. He didn't mean to command him like that. Or maybe he did – the intention was there, it has to be, for his mask to work, but he didn't mean –

Nokama grabs Nuju's wrist before his hand can come up to strike back with ice. He grabs her wrist in return, mask contorting, but then something goes blank in his eyes and he sways, just trying to breathe. He hit his head hard.

“Onewa, go cool off,” Vakama orders shortly.

Oh, yeah, of course the Fire Toa's going to handle this. Their fearless leader.

Onewa scoffs and turns his back on his siblings, feeling four sets of eyes on him as he goes.

He shouldn't have done that. But this is it. This is... this is destiny, he supposes.

It doesn't feel right in his chest. Nothing has for weeks.

.

“You come to kill me, ice-weaver?”

Onewa's adjusting the shape of his whetstone carefully in his hand, its form shifting like water beneath his fingers, when he hears the steps approaching him.

Honestly, he's impressed Nuju knows about his little hiding spot. At the back of the landing bay, on the bottom of the ship, the tow cord stretches out towards the airships connected to their own. The windows around it are meant to allow Matoran to check that the cord is intact and undamaged, but it also makes a nice viewpoint. The other ships bob along through the air behind them, and at this time of evening, the sun comes through everything like its trying to cram the light inside. He likes the white noise of the nearest blade spinning through the air too – whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, low and heavy.

“Nokama's trying to talk him down,” comes a voice that isn't Nuju's. “He was more sullen than angry. I think he's embarrassed. It wasn't very kind of you.”

Onewa turns to level Vakama with a look, taking in the sight of him crouching to meet Onewa's gaze, still outside the bubble of the tow cord area, which is not tall enough for a Toa to stand in. Onewa shakes his head and pulls out his proto pitons, setting them on his lap.

“There's no difference between embarrassed and angry for a Ko-Matoran. He'll have his revenge, and I'll take it. End of story.”

“You lost your temper with him.”

“My real punishment is right now. Nokama really knew who to send to give me the most grief, didn't she?”

“She didn't send me.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Come on, you know she's focused on Nuju right now.”

Onewa snorts. Okay, that's fair. She takes care of all of them in a lot of ways – probably more than she should – but she does pick favorites sometimes. He doesn't care, though. He doesn't want her coddling and he loves his sister no matter who she's standing up for.

“Look, Onewa,” Vakama says, taking in a deep breath. “I understand entirely that you have extra doubts about everything since what I did with the Visorak, but – ”

“Can it,” Onewa cuts him off, curving his whetstone along the underside blade of his piton. He loves that slide of protodermis on stone. “If you could get out of your head for more than five seconds you'd remember that I'm not treating you any differently than I always have. Honestly, that whole drunk-on-power shtick might be the most interesting thing you ever did in your life. No more big sad eyes. Just bright red rage.”

Vakama scowls at him. “It was monstrous.”

“I can't tell you how little I care about your pity party. Seriously, if I tried to find the words – ”

“Alright, alright,” Vakama sighs, sitting down beside him. “Well, you're certainly treating the others differently.”

Onewa examines his piton in the light. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure,” Vakama answers flatly. “Onewa, one way or another, couldn't we try getting off on a better foot? All of us?”

Onewa finds that pretty funny. “A tiny bit late to be asking, don't you think?”

“Now's the time. We're going somewhere new. Leaving old enemies behind. Old shadows. Speaking for myself, I can acknowledge I'm in a much better headspace to be...”

“Less aggravating?”

Vakama pins him with a look. “Whatever you need me to be.”

“How noble.”

“Onewa. You controlled Nuju today. He's going to have your head. You can't be treating the others like that. I don't know why you'd choose Nuju of all people to pick on, but whatever I need to do to help you – ”

“Did you ever meet Toa Rooka?” Onewa asks.

Vakama stops short, evidently turning this change of topic over in his head. “No,” he replies. “Saw him from afar, you know how it would go. Rooka, of course, was – ”

“Larger than life?”

“In a number of ways,” Vakama agrees. When Onewa doesn't answer, he presses on. “You knew Rooka?”

“I saw Rooka die,” Onewa says.

Vakama goes quiet. “I didn't know that.”

Onewa nods at nothing, frowning out the window.

“How did it happen?” Vakama prompts him.

Yeah, he still remembers that answer in vivid detail, no matter how the years pass. Onewa presses his thumb hard into his wrist, below his vambrace. “Dark Hunters. Long before Nidhiki started crawling around or anything, just... the war, or its remnants. I was out in the fields where the fighting had happened, part of a search and rescue thing that the Mangai were leading. All the Hunters were supposed to have cleared out, but... I wandered onto them. Had my carver's tool in my hand. I remember coming over this crest and seeing him there, more gold than brown in the sun like he was. They put an axe through most of his throat, and the ichor sprayed like crazy. He didn't make any noise or anything. I think I said his name, so I'm lucky they didn't hear me. Or maybe I said 'Toa.' I think I just said 'Toa.'”

Onewa shifts in place and shrugs. “Anyway, some of the others must have been patrolling with him, because Naho and Lhikan were already looking for him before he was gone. I didn't go fetch them or anything, but they saw me sitting on top of the rocks, watching. Naho started cleaning up Rooks, and Lhikan came and got me. He picked me up – and you can imagine how much I would tolerate that normally, but I let him that day – and he took me home. Checked on me, afterwards, and then, he just never stopped checking on me.”

He can see the second Vakama becomes tempted to cut in with some anecdote about how Lhikan was always so caring like that, wasn't he, and Onewa cuts him off sharply.

“So I'm saying you aren't the only one who lost him, Vakama.”

“I never said I was,” Vakama shoots back, with a little of that Fire Toa heat.

“Yeah? You act like it sometimes. Now you know. And whatever, okay, you were stuck in your head, that's fine. But if you could stop acting like this is the fire-spitter show for two minutes, it would help me out, thanks very much.”

“It's always something I'm doing wrong, isn't it?”

“And here we go, right on schedule.” They glare at each other for a second before Vakama reels himself in, puffing out this hot, annoyed breath and crossing his arms over chest.

“So, what? You're saying you're just grieving, then, and that has you tearing into Nuju for no reason?”

“First of all, the reason was that he's insufferable. But no, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying – it's been on my mind – I just thought you should know that I miss him too.”

“Oh.”

Onewa twists his vambrace around unhappily. “Yeah, fucking 'oh.' And I know that I've been an ass too. And now there's a lot to adjust to, and I don't know, Vakama. I only ever started following you to whatever degree I did – or sticking with any of the five of you – because I thought it's what he would want. But now look at us. Are we really getting anywhere? I'm supposed to believe we can lead a whole society of Matoran now? I don't understand why he picked us. Any of us, sometimes. But I loved him too.”

Vakama sighs and spreads his hands in an open gesture. “I know you did, Onewa. I know you're not actually... I don't know. Unkind.”

Onewa scoffs, shaking his head. “Really? How would you know that?”

Vakama frowns. “Well, I know you're not.”

“And you're so sure?”

“Yes,” says Vakama simply.

Onewa drops his hands into his lap, frowning back at him.

“Onewa,” says Vakama. “I would rather be your brother than your enemy. We all would.”

“So you're asking me to start being nicer and then we're good?”

“I'm asking you to follow me,” Vakama replies, which is pretty fucking bold, considering what they were just talking about.

“Why should it be you?” Onewa asks. “What have you ever done to deserve my loyalty? Two weeks ago you ran off on your own back to Metru Nui! Why would it ever be you?”

“Are you so opposed to it?”

He's not, Onewa realizes, turning irritably back to his other piton. No. He thinks Vakama could do it, actually. He saw him there at the end of the Visorak, coming back to them as himself, somebody upright and certain, if worn. He saw a leader.

“Maybe you're just not used to following, to being part of a team,” says Vakama, softer. “Which is fine. But here we are, Onewa. You're looking at your future and realizing we're all going to need to be leaders, together. We're going to need to be united. And not just to save our own tails when trouble comes, but because...”

His hand moves towards the other ship in the sky behind them, and Onewa stares out at it. He knows. There are hundreds of Matoran there who will need all six of them. United. There are Matoran who might need someone to carry them somewhere safe, and then to look after them. And that's him, somehow, him and these others. Because Toa Rooka and Toa Lhikan and the others are all gone, and Onewa and these five beings here with him – they're what's left. No other options, not anymore. Onewa and his brothers and sister.

“Deep down, I think that starts your heartlight flashing in a way you're not used to,” Vakama continues. “So maybe instead of telling us you're nervous, or scared – ”

“Watch it, fire-spitter.”

“ – you lash out. But Onewa, the reason that it should be me – just so we're all on the same tablet – is because that's the leader the others chose. And I have not done anything to deserve that. In fact, I've done plenty to be banished from your sights forever. But here we are. Call it destiny, or Lhikan's hope for us, or even say it's only because this is the fire-spitter show, I don't care. Here we are. I never want to be five minutes late to helping you because you didn't call for me, Onewa. I want to be your brother. I'm asking that you fall in line at my side – and all of our sides – and start accepting what we are now stepping into.”

“Well.” Onewa looks down at his pitons again, touching the cold metal for a second. “Maybe I don't know how to do that.”

Vakama hums at him. “I think you do.”

Say what you want about Vakama, but truthfully, this is that Fire Toa bravery they always talk about coming out to play, because in that moment, he has the nerves to put his stupid fucking hand on Onewa's shoulder.

“By the way,” Vakama adds, as he claps his armor and then starts to rise. “You're more gold than brown in the sun, too. Think I know where you got that from. I can't be Lhikan, but I'd be happy to check on you instead. Whatever happens, you won't be alone. We all want to be in this with you, no matter what comes next. Believe it or not, brother, but... we have your back.”

Onewa covers his mask for a second, sucking in a deep breath.

“This is real, huh? This... I'm really stuck with all five of you forever. Lhikan's really dead. It's the five of us. Mata Nui. You lot are stuck with me!”

He can grasp that Vakama's trying to be a cool and collected leader who came to give him words of wisdom, but really, when he breaks and start cracking up... Onewa thinks it's a good sound. Been a long fucking time since he heard Vakama laugh like that, bent over himself and covering his mouth. Or maybe never. Maybe he never knew Vakama when he was full of laughter. He shakes his head and turns away from his brother.

“I have your back too,” Onewa says. “At the end of the day, at least.”

“Yes,” Vakama says, smiling at him. “I know that. I'll see you later, Onewa.”

Then he's gone. Self-righteous forger.

Onewa looks back at the other ship again, the spheres that hold his people gleaming just a few bio away, and he's no tower-loving Ko-Matoran with a penchant for star-gazing of any kind, but in that moment, well... when he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine, he thinks he sees the future.

Yeah, Nuju's going to kick his ass. But there will be good things too. And bad things. And mistakes. And triumphs. The six of them will navigate it together.

.

He knows what Vakama means to do before he does it.

Maybe Onewa always knew it would be the price. He doesn't know how any part of him was ready for this, but somehow, he is. He sees Vakama reaching out his hand, and he doesn't feel scared. He isn't surprised. He's ready.

Vakama touches the Matoran sphere. A light begins to change him. When it's done, he's not Toa Vakama anymore, and Onewa feels the others staring at him and the spheres in silence. Onewa steps up beside him. He puts his hand on the next sphere over.

.

thanks for reading <3

[happyhauntt]

give your tears to the tide — nikolai lantsov.

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: now that he knows, nikolai lantsov is the only soul in the world aware of the truth at the heart of her. for better or worse.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

─── warnings: sexual assault tw! (off-screen, not descriptive), serious angst, character death (minor character), manslaughter, mentions of the army (in a canon context). this one's a lil dark. hurt/comfort. trauma. nikolai learns that anya is grisha except it's in the worst way possible and he behaves like a fucking king. threats of violence. i realise this plot would've been a lot more believable if anya were a heartrender or squaller but i fully believe in my heart that she's a tidemaker so suspend your belief for five minutes pls and thank you.

─── word count: 2.8k.

─── taglist: @naushtheaspiringauthor / @a-taken-url / if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know!

      There's a body in the corner and the stable floor is soaked through with water. It seeps through the fabric of her army-issue trousers, clinging and cold, but Anya can hardly feel it. The ground is hard beneath her, but still she sits, with her knees pulled up to her chest, and she watches. She waits. She prays to Saints she doesn't really believe in that the body in the corner will twitch, or breathe, or something.

     But it doesn't, and it won't, and there's no Saint in the world that can save her now.

     That's how Nikolai finds her. Not long after curfew, when she didn't check in with their commanding officer before dinner, he'd known something was off. In all the months he has served with her in their unit, he cannot recall a time when she was late for anything. Nikolai didn't think she was even capable of such a thing, really, so he'd asked Dominik to cover for them and slipped off to look for her as everyone got ready for bed.

     He checks the gardens first. More often than not, he'll find Anya laying on a bedroll beside her tent, watching the sun set over the horizon. She'd count the stars as they came into view and once, when she'd been feeling particularly tolerant, she'd even invited him to sit with her so they could point out constellations. It is a rare day when he doesn't set her teeth on edge, so he'd joined her eagerly and listened, enraptured, as she told him all about the stars and their stories.

     Those same stars glitter overhead now, winking mockingly at him, but there is no one to be found in the gardens. The estate their unit is staying at on their way north belongs to some baron whose name Nikolai doesn’t care to remember, and it isn't too large, but even so, he checks the gardens again.

     Just in case.

     Nikolai sighs to himself, unable to think of where she might be, before he notices a light in the distance. Everyone else has gone to bed, and the officers are drinking and playing cards in the drawing room, so why would there be anyone in the stables this late? Why would Anya be there?

     He doesn't dwell on the thought for longer than a moment. If it is her, then his worries will ease, and that's enough to send him striding down the dirt track that leads to the stables.

     As he nears, the ground beneath his feet grows soggy with muck. An odd trickling sound catches his attention, and when he squints into the dark, he notices a small stream of water escaping through a crack in the doorway.

     Nikolai pushes the unlocked door open, wincing as the hinges shriek. One of the horses chuffs at the sudden sound, but otherwise the room remains silent as a grave. The sudden draft makes the lantern flicker where it hangs from its hook, and as his eyes adjust to the dim light, he realises that he is not alone in the stable.

     "Anya?" Even though his voice is little more than a murmur, it still feels too loud. The sound of it rattles off the walls, and he can't help but flinch, but the girl curled up on the floor doesn't move. Doesn't raise her head, or even really seem to breathe.

     He creeps closer. Dread settles over him like a burial shroud. Old bits of hay crunch beneath his feet and the lantern spits, but the pit in his stomach only grows as he takes in Anya's appearance.

     Her hair straggles around her face in limp, damp strands. When Nikolai last saw her, it had been neatly braided and pinned, but now honey-coloured strands hang loose and messy. Her skin is damp, too, and pale. So pale, white as a corpse, and a flash of panic rolls through him.

     "Anya, come on." He kneels on the ground beside her. Cold, dirty water seeps into the knees of his trousers. He reaches out with gentle hands, but doesn't touch her. They merely hover above her shoulders, as if to offer comfort he isn't sure she'll accept. Not from him. "What are you doing out here? You're soaked, and it's freezing. Let's get you inside before you get ill."

     Anya doesn't look at him. Her stare is fixed, unwavering, on a dark corner of the stables. There's something hollow and hopeless about them that makes him feel sick.

     A long moment passes, and then— "I didn't mean to."

     He doesn't think he's ever heard her sound like this before. Doesn't think he's heard anyone sound like this before. "What? Anya, what are you talking about?"

     "I didn't mean to." Her voice is brittle. The words are shards of broken glass on her tongue. Every one of them slices her open. Makes her bleed. "I... It was an accident. I didn't... I swear, I didn't even..."

     She wavers at the end, trailing off into a heavy silence. When she looks at him then, eyes so wide and frightened, Nikolai swears his heart grinds to a halt. That look cuts him deeper than any blade ever could.

     "Anya." Concern wavers in the depths of his eyes, and finally he reaches out to touch her. Gentle hands clasp her shoulders. She's so cold. He wonders how long she's been sitting out here. "What happened? Where did all this water come from?"

     Anya swallows roughly. Her lower lip quivers. Every part of him wants to hold her close, as if that will chase away all her demons, but he knows she won’t allow it. "Me. Or... him, maybe. I don't know. I didn't mean to do it, I just—"

     A choked sob cuts her off, and Anya buries her face in her hands. There's no doubt that she probably wishes anyone else had found her out here, rather than the boy who teases and goads her relentlessly. She doesn't even like him, really.

     Yet he's the one who noticed she was missing.

     "Anya. Nastya, look at me." The childhood nickname falls from his tongue before he can stop it, and he squeezes her shoulders once, a little too harshly, to pull her focus back. "Tell me what happened."

     "I came down to check on the horses. Maksim asked to swap duties with me so he could run into town and post a letter to his mother." Anya's hands begin to shake violently. She curls them into fists and presses them hard against her thighs to make them stop. "I was just finishing up when— Fuck, I don't even know him. He was only just assigned to our regiment. Lenkov, I think? Saints, I killed him and I don't even remember his name." She manages a short, sharp laugh. She almost sounds hysterical.

     "Anya." A sudden chill sweeps over Nikolai, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head.

     Anya shakes her head. "I didn't even notice he was in here. And then he— he grabbed me, and he put his hand around my throat and shoved me up against the wall and told me to shut up even though I wasn't even screaming, I couldn't scream, I couldn't— And he started pulling at my shirt, and I didn't even think, I just did it. I remembered seeing them do it, the hand gestures, I didn't even know what they meant, I just wanted him to get off me."

     A thousand thoughts sweep through him all at once, but the only thing Nikolai cares about is the tremor in Anya’s voice, the shaking of her hands as she gestures to the corner. He sees the body slumped over in a puddle. Bits of straw stick to the fabric of his uniform. The familiar emblem of Ravka winks back at Nikolai, as if the double eagle is sneering at him, but there is nothing here to be ashamed of.

     "Can you stand?" he asks.

     She looks up at him sharply. "What? Nikolai, I just told you—"

     "Can you stand, Anya?" Her name sits like a lead weight on his tongue. He says it firmly, harsher than he wants to be, but there's a manic look in her eye he's never seen before. Not on her. He needs to keep her attention, her focus, away from the body in the corner. Away from the blood on her hands.

     She nods, once. "I think so."

     "Alright." Nikolai pushes himself up from the ground, and tries not to shiver at the way his damp trousers stick to his skin. The beginnings of a plan begin to formulate in his mind, and when Anya looks him in the eye, the certainty she finds there begins to set her at ease. "You're going to go back to the manor. Sneak in through the side entrance. Make sure nobody sees you. Go to the library. It should be empty. I'll meet you there in an hour."

     "Nikolai."

     "Go, Anya." They're not friends. She's made that abundantly clear so many times these last few months, but the way she's looking at him now, with her heart split wide open, makes him want to hold her tight and never let go. "I'll deal with this."

     And somehow, because she trusts him — Saints, she cannot believe she actually trusts him — she forces her stiff limbs to carry her out of the door and away from the chaos she caused.

     When she dares to cast a glance back of her shoulder, she finds the dim light extinguished, flooding the stables with shadows.

     An oil lamp flickers on the table, dim enough that it won't cast any light beneath the door, and Anya has to squint in order to decipher the look on Nikolai's face when he sneaks into the library nearly an hour later.

     A deep frown has etched itself into his features, and Anya’s chest seizes at the sight of it. She cannot recall a day in her life where Nikolai wasn’t smiling. There are lines carved on each side of his mouth, even at the age of sixteen, that bear the echo of his good humour.

     She cannot stomach that she is the reason for that frown.

     He doesn't say anything as he presses a glass bottle into her hands, before settling himself into the low armchair opposite. When she removes the stopper, it smells suspiciously like brandy.

     "What have you done with him?"

      There are still flecks of dirt stuck beneath Nikolai's fingernails, even though he scrubbed his hands nearly raw in the kitchens just now. Streaks of mud stain the hems of his trousers. A faint scent of soil lingers in the air.

     "Do you really want to know?" Nikolai hadn't felt all that terrible as he'd rolled Lenkov's body into a shallow grave at the edge of the property. Perhaps he should have. But every time the guilt tried to creep in, the memory of Anya curled up on the stable floor would flash through his mind, and every shovelful of dirt became a little easier to bear.

     Come morning, their superior officer will find a scribbled letter in Lenkov's bunk and assume he is a deserter. The reputation that will earn him is not nearly as bad as he deserves, but it will do. It’s not like he’ll live to harm anyone else.

     Nikolai nods at the bottle in her hands. "Drink, Anya."

     It's odd, really. Watching her follow instructions. His instructions, at least. Nikolai is used to her battling him. More often than not, his remarks are usually met with a snarky retort or an outright insult.

     As her lips close around the bottle and she swallows a sip of the brandy he stole, he decides he doesn't like her silent. He doesn't like it at all.

     When she's done, she holds the bottle out towards him like a peace offering. He takes his own long swallow of brandy and relishes the burn as it slides down his throat.

     "Why did you help me?" Anya’s voice wavers as she speaks, though she tries her best to steady it. In this light, Nikolai cannot quite see her expression, but he knows, somehow, that she's frowning. A little dip appearing between her brows. He's so familiar with it, has dreamed of smoothing it over with his thumb until she smiles at him. In his dreams, it’s the sort of smile that could cure any ill in the world.

     He chuckles and downs another sip. "Would you prefer I stand silently by as they arrest you? Sit in the crowd at your tribunal? Would you rather I watch as they lead you to the gallows and hang you for murder?"

     Her breathing turns ragged. "It wasn't murder—"

     "The First Army hates Grisha, Anya." There's no venom in his tone, but she flinches all the same. His eyes soften as he passes the bottle back to her. "You think they'd care if it was an accident? Or self-defence? All they would see is you, a Grisha who hid her powers and infiltrated the ranks of the First Army, killing one of their own. There would be no saving you from that."

     The statement hangs in the air between them like a noose. The gas lamp spits and crackles.

     "My parents hid it. Not me." She takes a large swig of the brandy and clutches the bottle close to her chest, as if it's a shield. "I was... Saints, maybe eleven, when I started to show. My mother cut my hand when the Grisha testers came so they couldn’t test me.”

     Anya’s hand flexes slightly, as if she is even aware she’s doing it. There’s still a thin white scar hidden in the crease of her palm.

     “After that,” she says, “my parents stopped bringing me to court. Told everyone that my health was fragile and that I wasn't well enough to travel."

     Nikolai nods, humming beneath his breath. He remembers that. One summer Anya was there, screaming through the gardens of the Grand Palace with him and Dominik and some of the other children, and then she was gone. She'd only appear once or twice a year afterwards, at the Winter Fête or his brother’s birthday ball, and her mother would always keep her close by.

     "I am my father's heir." Anya swallows roughly. Affection threads through her voice like strands of gold.

     Nikolai had met the Duke of Balakirev a few times as a child, and unlike many other nobles rattling around court in Os Alta, he hadn’t found the man to be ridiculous or, worse, intimidating. He recalls an older man, somewhere in his fifties with ruddy cheeks and silver streaking through his hair, but he had kind eyes. That, Nikolai remembers well.

     He sees the same soft blue in Anya’s eyes. 

     Anya’s heart warms at the memory of him. She last saw him just before she enlisted, months ago, and he’d watched her leave with shining eyes and a worried little pout. He’d tried to smile.

     He hadn’t wanted her to know he was afraid.

     "I’m his only child.” Anya’s lips form a tight line. “And the Grisha testers would have shipped me off to the Little Palace. I'd be lucky to ever see my parents again, Nikolai. Once you are labelled Grisha, it is a brand you bear for life. It becomes the only thing you are, and I... I love my parents for protecting me. I don't practise or train, I don't... I didn't know what I was doing in the stables. I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted him to stop."

     Her voice is quiet, so quiet he can hardly hear her now.

     Nikolai wishes Lenkov were still alive, if only so he could rip the man to pieces with his bare hands. A shallow grave isn’t good enough. He should’ve left the body in the woods and let the wolves have him instead.

     "I've killed before. We're soldiers. But I never... I didn't mean to..." Anya's voice cracks, and a sob bubbles up in her throat. She presses her palm hard against her mouth, hard enough that her teeth almost pierce the skin, as if that will keep her tears at bay.

     Nikolai leans forward. Rests a gentle hand on her knee. She looks at him, eyes glistening with tears. His heart shatters in his chest, and the shards of it dig into his lungs with every breath he takes.

     "I won't tell anyone," he says, solemn as the grave. "About what happened, or about you. I swear."

     "Thank you."

     When daylight comes and Dominik finds them huddled together in a quiet corner of the house, Anya’s head resting against Nikolai’s chest as if the steady rhythm of his heartbeat had soothed her to sleep, he knows something immeasurable has changed between them. 

     He nudges Nikolai’s foot and quickly ducks out of the room as his friend begins to stir, and he doesn’t know what secret the pair of them share now, but Dominik swears he will take it to the grave, too.

[hello-universe-lovers]

Well, time for my stp au ranting (thanks @neverpathia for getting me off my ass)

For some context, have this:

SLAY THE PRINCESS: THE FIRST DRAFT AU:

(SPOILERS and OC TALK ahead)

Let's start with someone I've been referring to as the Player

(Do not mind that the sketch has a different title name. This was literally the first draft, ironically enough. And some beta voice designs weee~)

Her name is Ley, and her design is honestly what I call the "Pocket OC", a blank slate that I can insert into any universe or fandom with some modifications. For this application, she is the unfortunate Mortal that the Narrator decided would be GREAT at princess slaying!!/s

Contrary to Larry, who only had to do 5 loops to freed the Shifting Mound. Ley has to go through 11 FOR ALL THE VOICES. Since LQ isn't exactly capable of calling the voices back to him like She can. And with the "2 voice per loop" rule, she has to collect em one at a time. Fun times/s

I feel her personality is best described when I go into the routes with her, in contrast to Larry (note that they are in a specific order).

THE PRISONER:

Her first was the Prisoner. Her skepticism of the Narrator and the Princess (expressed by bringing the knife down to the basement) quickly melted away into sympathy for the Princess and resolved to save her. Unlike Larry, she didn't had to cut off her hand. Rather, she cut one of the links with the Pristine Blade, rendering it blunt. When the Narrator took over, the Princess had to bash her head against the wall, knocking her out/killing her (they have the same effect).

In the Prisoner Chapter, she woke up in chains, rather than free, and the Prisoner is her usual self. And to add to her headache, there was a new Voice with the Narrator: the Voice of the Hero (pre-egg crack). She informs her that she's been stuck here for a while, and the knife was out of their reach, presumably upstairs. Ley, not giving up, broke her thumb to get out (since the chain was for Larry's neck, not hers) and did the same for the Prisoner's wrist cuffs. With freedom and a knife again, the Prisoner asked how she was going to get her out of there. She did the same thing she did last time: cutting her free. When asked why she thought that worked and not trust her in her "alternative" plan: she did trust her, but she didn't want her to get hurt for the sake of freedom. Hero encourages her on with her choices, seeing how far a strong will can get you, as well as subtly demonstrating she can still influence this world, even for a human.

But, as the Shifting Mound claims the Prisoner and she finds herself in the Long Quiet. The Mirror is still there, but rather than showing her own reflection, she sees the Hero, in how she perceived the Voice, through her route. She says "Hi" to her (who finally cracked her egg) and comments on how Proud she was of Ley for keeping her good nature, even in such a difficult circumstances. However, their conversation couldn't last long as the darkness of the mirror starts taking Hero away. Hero screamed in fear, and Ley bangs on the mirror, but the Voice returns to the Long Quiet, to where she is meant to be. But she inherited Ley's Chivalry, and it will stick with her

(Don't worry, I won't rant too much with the rest, this is the first. The rest of them will be shorter)

Edit: so that was a lie!

THE RAZOR:

(Oh I forgot Stubborn went through a redesign godddd--)

Her next route is where her personality changes the Story. Let's be clear here: she isn't Larry. She has no God powers that makes her go numb to pain or make it go empty. But what she has is drive. Perseverance is a HELL of a drug, and it's what she did to Conquer the Razor.

After being stabbed by the Princess in the Chapter 1, Ley tried to give her the benefit of a doubt, but it's clear that this Princess's love language is "STAB! STAB! STAB!!", so it's time to arm up. It's difficult, she died a lot, but overtime, she realized that the arena they were in...was changing. Warps, cracks littered the walls of the cabin and basement. An idea was sown, and luckily she has the perfect voice to keep her going. Stubborn had to take a backseat, which he hated, but he got what he wanted. Clash after clash, the basement showed signs of breaking down. She even tore off one of Razor's arms to use as a sword. Once you have a goal that isn't just "winning", your motivation skyrockets. Chapter 4 wasn't named "Mutually Assured Destruction", but "the Bird and the Mountain". As the Princess showed her new form, Ley showed her plan's fruition. The basement finally gave out under the abuse, and collapsed on top of both of them. The Bladed Razor looked up at the sky from the hole that opened up, while pinned under tons of rubble and was memorized. Ley, meanwhile, made her way out of the rubble, in pain, but alive. This is where an unintended Side effect of her influence came in. Because she felt someone lifted her up and helped her approach the Razor. The Princess was surprised, but she had no regrets. In fact, she had fun!! Seeing her slowly growing to triumph over her was fun! And the stars were pretty to look at too! She was ok with dying now, promising to maybe try something else, now that the world is open to her...

But they won't have that next encounter, as Ley finds herself in the Long Quiet once more.

Stubborn was struggling against being unraveled, but he had to congratulate her. If it was him, he would have fought her over and over with no stop. But her plan not only stopped her, it also kept her going. With a brain like that, nothing could stand in her way. Ley gave her peace with him, reassuring that the Quiet won't hurt him, it's taking him somewhere he belongs. And to tell Hero she said "hi", when he sees her...

The NIGHTMARE:

With so many deaths in one loop, it left her feeling the fatigue in the next Loop. In her tired state, she decided she needed space from both the Narrator and Princess to think, so she left the basement. She didn't, however, closed the door to the basement. She left it open to show that she wasn't gonna leave her in limbo. While she thought of what to do, exhaustion finally kicked in and she fell asleep. However, when she woke up, the door to the basement was blocked by the table. She rudely asked the Narrator what happened, and that's when SKEPTIC made himself known. He came while she was asleep, and decided that it'd be safer to talk with the door blocked. Panicked, she quickly opened the door, asking the Princess if she's OK. But her haste to check on her let her tripped and broke her neck in the fall.

The next time, Skeptic is once again not being helpful. Apparently he and Narrator had a talk while she was "dead" and Skeptic doesn't believe in anything Narry is saying about their situation. Not even the ominous cabin and the drop to the basement. For once, his Skepticism kept her alive because when the Nightmare showed up, he just didn't believe she could do that. It's not Paranoid but it will do. For Ley herself, it may felt like absolute shit to have your organs barely work, but it gave her time to say sorry to the Princess and helped her out of the basement. When asked why she said sorry, when she didn't ask for it, she responded that she deserved one anyway.

In the Long Quiet, She confronted Skeptic for his mistakes...but she does thanked him for keeping her alive, even if it was accidental on his part. He apologized for his misjudgment and was grateful to meet someone like-minded. Maybe she can discover the truth of this place, where he could not. Then he was taken away, though he resisted a little.

(Bonus but between every few loops, she just crashes into Shifty to sleep. Not repeating what happened with the Nigthmare, now that deep sleep can apparently summon these guys. Not that she'd remembered)

The TOWER:

Her hesitation to kill the Princess gave the next one an Ego boost. And Smitten is here because of a misguided respect for the Tower, that could be interpreted as "love". With a voice that's all about devotion and a literal Goddess, she was THIS close to succumbing. BUT the Tower just HAD to take the face of a loved one, brcause Ley wasn't a "little bird", try and persuade her. Which just made her ANGRY. The Fury of the AUDACITY!!

Now, Smitten believed in love, and if Tower's love language was "devotion", he was gonna give it to her. And he didn't appreciate this Lady not seeing the LOVE like he did. However, in her fury, Smitten saw her memories, and of the Love that she had with this other woman. But it ended tragically and bitterly. Died by a fire. But it was REAL. A REAL love that was meaningful that was more than devotion.

Ley pushed the Tower out of the window, letting them fall into nothingness. The Tower realized that maybe using the face of a dead loved one was a bad call...but she still thinks highly of herself. Ley coldly responded "what is a God to a non-believer?"

She is taken away, leaving Ley to fall on forever. But she soon landed gently on the ground. Facing the mirror, Smitten was crying for the lost of the Tower, but also at the beauty of Ley's love. If that was what True Love looked like, maybe He could find it again. Ley told him that True Love doesn't exist. There isn't "the one" for you, just the "love" you made together with the one you choose. Smitten has a lot to think about, now...as he fades away.

The WITCH/THORN:

To go from a tragedy to a romance, Ley didn't want to betray the Princess. But the Narrator forced her hand, and in comes our "favorite" asshole. Rather than being summoned by Ley's feelings, it was the Narrator's feelings projected onto her, the rush of pulling one over on someone. Ley is NOT happy with either of these people in my head, and Opportunist was content to go back and forth between choosing a side. It got to a point where it caused her such a headache that she broke the Pristine Blade by jamming it against the root wall, and bent the handle so no one can get it out. It was an act of desperation against the Narrator and to show trust to the Witch. However, just as they were about to leave, Opportunist decided to try what the Narrator did last time. Ley struggled hard against him, which scared the Witch so much that she stabbed her with a sharp piece of root from the ground. She fell, but muttered an "I'm sorry" before fading away.

The next time she woke up, she had a pain in her chest. And the Voice was less of a voice and more of a person. This is where the Voice finally have a body of their own in the Construct, and Ley's first action was punch the ever loving shit out of the Opportunist. Blaming him for the Witch stabbing her when she was THIS CLOSE to saving her! She never wanted to betray her but the Narrator and now him were projecting those feelings onto her and now SHE has to bear the brunt of their treachery. She did stop wailing on him, but he was crying and begging her to stop by the end of it. All she did was glare in return, saying how pathetic he truly was...before walking to the cabin, skipping the Pristine Blade all together that was just sitting there. The Thorn was there, vulnerable and surrounded by painful thorns, obviously she is scared of Ley for even MORE reasons than the canon one. Because how could she still trust herself, after what she saw and almost did? Ley answered back that she resisted, every step of the way. She never stopped resisting, and she will continue to resist, until both of them made it out of here. With her bare hands, she tore into the vines, not caring if they bleed, Thorn's protest or the Narrator's attempts to make her stop via tedium. She ketp going.

Then, a tap on her shoulder. Whipping around, it's the Opportunist, one hand holding an eye that she punched earlier, and another...the Blade, extended to her, hilt facing her. He makes a non-committal reasoning for being here ("it's better to stick together" and all that) but I ranted enough about what he actually feels before...so with the knife, she cut the Thorn and the 3 of them Escaped the basement.

In the Long Quiet, the Opportunist stood before her. The root that stabbed her chest was now in his and blooming a rose, and the shiner she put in his eye was now a poppy, like the Thorn's. He...apologized, truthfully, for his actions. There is no one to witness them, so to him, this was his only chance to say sorry. He just wanted to live...and that blinded him to the opportunities that he could have gotten, if he was kinder. Ley said that she...won't accept it, not yet...but she can acknowledge that if he's truthful, than one day, she will. And that she wasn't the only person he'd hurt. Thorn was too...if he see her again, he has a lot to make up for. He begged to not be taken away, to not die or be asleep before he got to say sorry to her. But something tells Ley that he will see Thorn again...but she won't.

((I am stopping here because I am CRAMPING: tune in next time for Broken, Cheated, Hunted, Paranoid, Cold and Contrarian!

And thanks for making it this far. It was...very nerve wracking to do this. To show my work like this outside of friends so I hope this resonated with you and I hope you asked me questions about them.