#the second page. I think having frames over top a larger frame to fill in space is neat

[cleocatrablossy]

[kinda-thoughtless-critic]

Recruitment at Sunset

(jealous) Jean x Reader

It was a pleasantly warm evening at the survey corps headquarters, fading amber sun rays shone through open windows and avian chitter echoed from the leafy tops of trees outside. A relatively newly appointed Section Commander was at his desk shuffling some documents around. Many a parchment was discarded at a near automated speed, the applicant’s name was scanned and nine times out of ten dummped on a stack towering at the desk’s edge. Another, much smaller pile sat patiently in front of the young soldier.

His long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as tired eyes forced themselves to squint at less than impressive chicken scratch. A calloused thumb pad sank into the paper, creating creases like that of those framing his features, and he sighed, wishing the setting sun would pause and prolong the day a little longer. 

It was then the warm oak door to his office opened with a slight creak of its old hinges, and that wish disappeared through the widening gap. Too quick did bright eyes meet his, curved to the softest gaze, the sheet of paper cropping off a smile. Jean jerked upright at your entrance, only having seconds to swiftly sweep the larger paper pile into the metal bin below and place the one he’d been scanning on the one in front.

You cocked an eyebrow as you drew closer to his desk, the door closing slowly behind.

“These are the applications for your new squad,” he said nonchalantly, handing you a flimsy stack of papers.

You skimmed through the applicants, flipping through the limited number of pages. Impressed by their statements, but disappointed with the lack of choice, after the 5th you stopped. “They’re all female”

“Yeah, that seems to be the case,” he responded, resting his elbows on the desk, light brown eyes piercing in the subdued light, “the top four ones are the people I think you should pick. Bridgette and Lina placed 10th and 8th in their Training Corps a few years back, Winnie was a well respected Garrison soldier and I think it will be good to have one of the new recruits like Piper join your squad and learn the ropes.”

Your smile returned as he pitched his suggestions, noting the stray hairs falling from their carefully combed positions to brush the tips of his nose and cheekbones. “You’ve thought about this a lot haven’t you?” 

Jean smiled, softer lines replacing rigid ones, and his expression relaxed. “I’m your superior now; it’s my job.”

“Except on this occasion it isn’t, Commander Hange gave me the okay to choose my own members,” you smirked, “not for my Section Commander to do it for me.”

Jean sat back a bit, running a hand through disheveled locks, “I saved you time. It would’ve taken ages for you to decide on the right ones, so I thought I’d help you out.”

“This doesn’t seem like much.” You flapped the documents for extra effect, then glanced sidelong at the recently filled bin beside his desk. “Unless I am to count the ones you threw away just a moment ago.”

He followed your eyes down and promptly folded his arms. “Those aren’t important.”

“In your opinion perhaps, but not to me,” you said, stalking over to them and fishing them out. Jean frowned, displeasure evident in the reappearing creases gathering around knitted brows as you flipped through them. “So here are all my male applicants.”

“The ones I picked out for you were better suited,” Jean insisted.

You almost laughed. “You sure? Because one of these guys, Isaac Milton, was a Squad Captain in the Garrison.”

“He was stationed at Yarckel,” he countered, “He’s never seen a titan.” 

“We’re not really fighting titans anymore. At least, not like before.”

“True, but he’s got little battle experience compared to the veterans I’ve picked, and won’t be as sharp as the new trainees. We don’t know exactly what we’ll be up against. Y/n, I don’t want you getting yourself killed protecting him.”

You sighed, clutching the stack close to your chest. “I’ll need his leadership experience- plus he was in the top 20 after graduating.”

“Leadership experience like choosing which barrel to sit on while you drink away the shift playing cards?” His words were sarcastic but his tone nothing short of sincere, this combined with the intent gaze he fixed you getting up and walking round made for a dangerous combination. He took back the stack with without resistance. “Hange and Levi are giving you a squad because they know what you can do. You’re more than capable of leading them.” He let the pile land with a thump on the desk and rested a hand on it, leaning his tall frame towards you. Attentive. “Have faith in yourself.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his immediacy, amber rays highlighting the precise curve of his smile, sheer softness in this gaze. The musky scent of imported cologne played annoyingly with your senses, threatening to distract your thoughts. 

With a huff, you gently shoved his shoulder. “I’m fully capable of your promotion.”

He let out a soft chuckle, allowing his body to sway slightly with the impact. “Alright, then maybe you’ll get the next position that comes up.”

Shaking your head, as if you could brush off the natural half smile clinging to your cheek, you reached around his arm to pick up the lighter stack. Both of you knew he wouldn’t stop you if you really wanted to choose differently, but you were never going to. His judgement was more than reliable, had saved your life multiple times, for the longest time you never questioned trusting it. That said, you weren’t going to make it easy for him. “Is there a reason the only ones you approved were female?”

Jean took his hand off the tall paper pile, subtly hiding it from view as his lower back leaned against the desk. “Nope. They’re the best here.” 

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine,” you reached up to jiggle his bearded chin. He allowed it, for a moment, before playfully batting your hand away. Turning on a heel you made your way to the door, “I’ll go with these four, so they better not disappoint, Horseface,” finally calling out as you left, “Actually to be on the safe sight, keep those ones on file for me...”

A heavy sigh juxtaposed your friendly wave goodbye, followed by a quiet grumble seeing your fleeting figure, taking away what little light had been left with it.

~~~

Thanks for reading!

Masterlist

Burden of Duty (Jean x Reader angst) 

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

I saw that you had a 20 request on the back burner recently, so I didn’t want to disturb you but if you don’t mind, I’m hoping you could maybe write something focused on Link and Mipha testing out kogha’s “Advice”? From what I’ve read, the way YOU write of them has to be my FAVORITE out of ANYONE ELSES!(Tbh I think I’m just asking for some Miphlink smut). Anyways, I wish you luck on those 20+ prompts! Stay strong and thanks for always supporting others(but don’t forget to take care of yourself!)!

You know, I appreciate this one, a lot, because I need something just a BIT different. Like don’t get me wrong, I love my yiga husbands, but as Kohga would say, “Gird up everybody, this is about to get spicy!”

“Remember, open palm. Open palm, and grab, open palm, and grab.”

It was so weird. Mipha was actually sitting here, in her bedroom, waiting for the boy of her dreams to come and claim her. She was excited, suffice to say. But the nerves still got to her. How could she do what Kohga did? Something that CLEARLY worked, given how it unraveled Sooga, but Mipha wasn’t like Kohga. Where he sought after the pleasures of life, she sought out hard work, purity. Could she do something like that for Link? It looked SO simple when he did it. She was laying on her stomach, awaiting Link to come out of her personal bath. Was he just as nervous? Was he wondering how to please her? She was about to turn around and call it off, when she suddenly felt the weight on top of her. Oh. Oh. Link was ON TOP of her. She quickly spun around, only to see the face of a Lynel. She studied the mask, more in shock, before Link pushed aside the mask, a smile on his face. She felt a sigh of relief, lightly chuckling.

“My, what a terribly handsome Lynel I found!”

She pinched his cheek, causing just the most adorable blush on his features. Link was more than a boyfriend, more than the princess’s knight. He was also her best friend. He cared for her feelings, and that was exactly WHY they were doing this. Since he chose not to speak, it meant he had to SHOW his love. He peeled off his mask, tossing it to the side. He took a second to kiss her forehead, before motioning to his clothes. They thought about Link just walking in nude, but Mipha would NOT be ready for that. So Hylian trousers and Champions tunic it was (not to mention he had his hair down, which was just her weakness). Mipha would undress him as she saw fit, and she was so glad they were on the same page. She took a deep breath, and carefully snuck her claws fingers under his shirt, roaming them over his stomach. She was about to peel it over his head, when she suddenly pulled away, hands covering her blushing face.

“I’m s-sorry! I can’t! Could you uhm...could YOU take it off, perhaps?”

Link gave a gentle nod, before getting off of her, and starting to take off his shirt. She sat there, watching as the shirt ruffled his long, golden hair. He tossed the shirt off to the side, but otherwise just stood there. Mipha always did need a minute after seeing him shirtless. He wasn’t super buff, but his arms, and his core, showed well earned muscles, as well as a plentiful amount of scars. Nostalgia filled her mind, and her hand caressed one of the larger ones on his chest.

“I remember when I offered to make these go away. But you refused. It wasn’t a means of pride. You just...didn’t like to forget your own feats. So modest, with the valiance of any knight. I admired that about you. I still do.”

Then she caught his gaze, and realized what she was doing. She was feeling at his chest. Not at his arm or even his back, but his chest. She tried to pull away from her nerves, when Link put his hand over hers, keeping it there. He nodded firmly. This was okay. There was nothing wrong with what she was doing. With a deep breath, she used both of her hands to feel at his chest. Despite the scars, they felt so smooth, so warm against her Zora skin.

“This is...alright, yes?”

Link nodded. He allowed her hand to move from his chest, down his core, down his stomach, before her claws hooked onto his pants. Link was willing, as was she. She pulled off his trousers, showing his blue, firm looking underwear. She had caught him like this once, but not once did she get a good, solid at them. They fit so...snuggly on him, she could see the way they lightly squished his thighs. Oh be still her beating heart. Link took this chance to lean down to kiss her, and as usual, she felt her stomach do flips. Link’s lips were so soft, and they tasted like pumpkin pie (most likely because he ate an ENTIRE pie right before this). He was delicate with her too, holding onto her cheek so tenderly as they kissed. Nothing too aggressive, just simple, honest kissing. If it weren’t for the fact that Link was essentially nude, this would be in a storybook. She parted from the kiss, giggling at the smudged lipstick on his face.

“My, you almost wear that color better than I.”

They both chuckled, but hers was so much more nervous. If she could sweat, she absolutely would be. She wanted Link, honestly and truly, but progressing with him made her so nervous, as if this was a make or break of their relationship. Thankfully, Link was ever her support. He pulled back a bit, kissing at her chin. Then at her neck. Then her chest, right between her breasts (don’t ask why Zora’s had breasts, but they pretty much did), and down her stomach. He carelly parted her legs, and looked up at her, silently asking for permission. Oh. Oh. He was asking to do something that she only dreamt in her steamiest of dreams. She tried not to make a show of it, but she had to fan herself a bit, swooning on the spot.

“I...suppose. If you’re comfortable. Y-you may be my guest.”

Link nodded, before kissing lower and lower still, right till she nearly jumped out of her skin upon feeling his lips at...well. Her own lips, suffice to say. Fun fact about Zora reproduction; you couldn’t see their organs until they were fairly aroused. It was why Link had to take a minute to kiss at the area, before he found himself able to part her pussy lips. He pushed and massaged at the folds with his thumbs, and it was already making him shake. His hands were SO careful, so skilled. She’d seen him use a bow and arrow, and now he was strumming an entirely different string.

“L-link-”

His big, blue eyes looked up at her, right as his mouth enveloped her. She gasped loudly, nearly springing out of bed. Mipha had NEVER put something in herself, so the feeling of a wet, moving tongue inside of her felt so...weird, but in a really good way. She had no idea if he was experienced in this field, but she couldn’t help but fawn over his soft, calculated tongue against her folds. He didn’t spend too much time down there, not wanting the party to end too soon, but he DID part by sucking rather aggressively on her clit, making her cry out.

“Give...give me a moment. Oh my goodness…”

She buried her face in her palm, averting her gaze from him. To put it bluntly, she was incredibly, and totally, aroused. She wanted Link inside of her. She forced herself to look at his clearly concerned (and wet) face, before she motioned for him to scoot back up. He obeyed, and she leaned down, kissing the bulge appearing in his underwear. That was bold, but she didn’t care. All she cared was for that Hylian penis to be nestled inside of her. She pulled down his underwear, and almost passed out. Link wasn’t huge, wasn’t fat, but he was so eager. Pale, with a reddened, eager tip, covered in a bush of pretty, blonde pubic hair.

“Link? M-may I?”

Link’s nod was slow, but it was there. She carefully ran her hand alongside his girth, and found herself fascinated.

“It...feels so odd. It’s so warm, so smooth in my palm.”

She watched as the skin folded over his head at every hand movement. She knew Hylian biology to a degree, but not ONCE had she seen their genitals, much less up close. Odd, only seeing one of them. He let her continue her hand motions for a moment, before he positioned himself at her hips. He placed his cock right on her stomach, silently asking for permission. She took a deep, calming breath, before nodding.

“Please, continue, my love.”

Then Link pushed himself inside. It was just the head, but either way she felt her entire frame stiffen. He was looking down at her so fondly, so lovingly, all while he was inside of her. He was even sweet enough to kiss her nose, just to make sure she was okay. So sweet, so caring. He was even careful as he introduced more of himself into her, stopping just short of halfway, mainly because her toes were scrunching so much. She knew that look on his face. Concern.

“I’m fine. I swear. It’s just...a lot, for my first time.”

He looked panicked for a moment, as if he did something wrong, when she held him by his shoulders.

“I’m fine, I promise. We just, have to keep things slow, until I’m ready. Please, put more inside, I can handle it.”

Link nodded, giving her a smooch on the cheek, before slowly pushing more inside of her. His face was buried into her neck, gifting her with plenty of kisses, so he didn’t notice her looking. She was SO close to taking him in fully. While it didn’t hurt, it certainly was a lot at once. But she loved him. She adored him, and wanted as much of him as she could handle. It’s why she pulled his face away, and forced his eyes onto her.

“Link, please. All the way, for me?”

Link nodded, before obeying her. He pushed himself fully into her, face scrunched up. It was her turn to be worried, despite how full she was suddenly feeling.

“L-link? Are you in pain? Am I t-too tight, or?”

Link shook his head, taking a minute to breathe. It was cute, how much they both very clearly seemed to care about each other. Thankfully they both supported each other through the initial awkward feelings, right till Link was comfortably pushing his hips into her. He was going slow, carefully, even being a gentleman and holding her thighs to his sides. It was sweet, getting to see his big, bright eyes as he moved into her, panting as his cock kept moving in and out of her. It was lovely. At first. Then, she suddenly found herself longing. She could just tell Link was holding back on her. And while that sweet, she knew he was holding back, knew she was keeping him from honestly and truly enjoying himself.

But how to ask for him to let loose? Just saying it to his face so bluntly was upcoming of her as a princess. That was when she recalled Kohga’s advice. Open palm, then grab. She mentally counted to three, before she moved into action. She ran her claws through his mane of hair, and as firmly as she could, grabbed at his locks. Link suddenly stopped, letting out a rather loud cry that she was NOT expecting. She thought for a minute that she hurt him, before their eyes met. Eyes were no longer kind and calm, but hazy, drowning in clear and obvious lust.

“Do that again.”

She nearly gasped. Link NEVER talked. But here he was, standing above her, looking at her as if she was worthy of worship.

“P-pardon?”

“That thing with the hair. Grab it again. Please? Please? I’ll do anything.”

His voice was quick, desperate. She let go of his hair, before raking her fingers through his hair, and grabbed him again, nice and tightly. He let out a loud, rather crude moan that time around, and Mipha could feel him throb inside of her. What else did Kohga do? Oh yes, that’s right! She pulled his head to her neck, and used her small, pointy teeth to leave slow, firm nibbles onto his ear. And how Link moaned. He squirmed, he swore under his breath, completely lost in those slow, steady pinpricks of pleasure. She stopped after a moment, giggling right into his ear.

“You moan so pretty Link. Do it again, but with my name. Go on. Say my name like no one else would.”

Another dig into his hair, another grip, and another small pull, he let out another loud, pleased moan.

“Mipha~”

Oh she almost couldn’t keep this up. How he said it. How he held no shame in his drooling mouth and hazy eyes. She forced herself to take charge though, and after a small yank to his ear (that made him shake something fierce), she told him EXACTLY what she wanted.

“I want you to actually make love to me. I don’t want you to hold back anymore. I’ve been waiting for so long. Please, make me cum, Link.”

It was instant, like some switch had been flipped. He bucked into her like a jack rabbit, making the room be full of not only her moans, but loud, wet slappings of herself being pounded into. She kept pulling and scrunching at his mane, and each time, it only made him more and more hungry, thrusting faster and faster. She was ashamed to admit that the whole ordeal even made her rub at her own clit, lost in the fact that she was being fucked by the only man she truly loved. Was it any wonder that with a loud cry of his name, she fell into orgasm? One that felt so good, she was close to tears? 

Link, upon seeing Mipha satisfied, pulled himself out of her, and pumped his cock furiously, till he gritted his teeth, and came, all over her stomach. She had no idea cum felt so...hot, and thick. She liked it. And as she looked at Link, who was panting, so heavily, hair askew, she was only reassured that she liked Link. She somehow met his eyes through the mop of hair, and they both had a tired chuckle together. He leaned down to kiss her lips, which she accepted oh so sweetly.

“Link...that was...wonderful. I wasn’t too hard, was I?”

Link shook his head so wearily, she chuckled. A bit of a naughty thought popped into her mind, and she pulled onto his hair again, making him cry out in ecstasy.

“Good. Because, quite frankly...I’m not done yet~”

------------------------------------

“Mipha! Morning!”

“What are you all doing here?”

Mipha walked down the steps and into the dining hall, in hopes to get a snack, when she noticed that Kohga, Sooga, Urbosa, Daruk, and Revali were all sitting there, having a cup of coffee. She wasn’t even out of her nightgown just yet. Kohga held up his drink, as if to celebrate.

“We were just checking to see how your first time went! How’d my trick work?”

Mipha blinked, before softly shaking her head.

“It….went fine, I suppose. I-”

“Aye! Goldilocks! Long night?”

Link walked down the stairs in nothing but his underwear. His hair was just an absolute mess, his body looked heavy as lead, and he seemed just wiped. He nodded, and turned his back towards them, getting a drink. They all whistled. Link’s back was just COVERED in scratches, and even a few bite marks along his shoulders. Kohga looked at Mipha.

“The hair trick worked, didn’t it?”

“It...might have been the hair trick-”

“HA! YOU OWE ME FIFTY RUPEES, URBOSA!”

Urbosa swore under her breath, and Mipha hid her face in her hands. There was a lesson to be learned about all of this.

Pretty boys liked their pretty hair played with.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 3

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

It's midterm season and Emily runs into JJ at the library, they decide to study together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

There were no seats left in this entire goddamned library. Not a single one. Emily was on her second lap on the third floor, desperate for somewhere to sit down and have some peace and quiet to study for her test. She should have assumed this would happen. It was midterm season and the libraries were packed with students around this time each year.

She quietly made her way through the stacks and came upon a long, rectangular table near the back window. It overlooked a dark parking lot. The books were gigantic tombs of old academic journals that no one had probably even opened in decades.

There were eight seats and seven people, with one selfish asshole storing their backpack on the empty seat. Well, could be saving it for their friend, but with it being midterm season, those rules really shouldn’t apply anymore.

Emily braced herself and, with a smile, tapped the boy on the shoulder.

He had a large pair of headphones on. He lifted one side off his ear in a gesture of: ‘what do you want.’

“Is anyone sitting there?” She whispered, as quietly as she could, pointing to the seat next to him.

“Oh sorry,” he said, somewhat reluctantly, moving the coat and bag, inviting her to join him. She smiled in thanks and sat down.

Carefully unpacking her laptop and books, Emily tried to avoid disturbing the other folks at her table, the silence making each noise she made boom through the library. She settled down and pulled out her thermos, taking a sip of her coffee and bracing herself for a long night.

Her core classes for psychology were brutal, filled with endless memorization of terminology, stacks of mandatory books to read and countless essays.

At 8:30 the next morning it was her Introduction to Clinical Psychology midterm, worth a whopping thirty percent of her grade. She spent the entire day, between classes, at the Starbucks on campus, drinking her way through her student funds in coffee form and making endless flashcards.

She already had a stack of almost one hundred cards and she still had a couple hours of work left.

Just returning from dinner at the cafeteria, Emily had decided that she needed the relative quiet of the massive campus library to focus on the memorization period of her evening.

She flipped to the right page of her textbook: page 315, with a large header reading “SEXUAL DISORDERS” in large caps. Emily sighed, it was a strange thing to spend her time learning but at least it never failed to be interesting.

At least she wasn’t in Statistics this semester.

Emily took another sip of coffee, then rummaged through her bag for her wireless headphones, connecting them to her phone in order to play her studying playlist, which was mostly movie soundtracks, interspersed with Emily’s favourite classical music and of course, some lo-fi hip hop beats. She could not listen to music with words when studying, she would get too distracted and get nothing done.

Emily began gnawing at her thumbnail, focusing on writing down the definitions.

After around two hours of writing, Emily finally finished her flashcards. She stretched her back, closed her textbook, and went on her phone for a short break.

A Snapchat notification popped up on her screen.

Cheetobreath98 added you as a friend.

Emily frowned. Who on earth was that? Emily clicked on the profile, revealing the familiar face of Jennifer Jareau.

JJ had added her as a friend! On snapchat no less! That was at least three steps more intimate than Instagram.

Woah. Slow down there Em. She told herself. Don’t make it something it’s not.

They kept running into each other. JJ was probably just being friendly. She probably just wanted to say thank you for the cookies or send her funny snaps of the other students on their floor.

She has a boyfriend, a boyfriend she is having trouble with, but a boyfriend nonetheless. You can’t go around thinking about intimacy and Jennifer Jareau in the same sentence.

Emily accepted the friend request. Did that make them friends now? Emily hoped so. They could be friends.

As Emily stared at their chat, a new snap from JJ came in. Emily couldn’t help herself, she opened it immediately and she was met with a photo… of herself.

Emily’s head shot up looking around. She looked back down and it was clearly a photo of Emily, hunched over the desk with her head resting on her chin, staring down at her phone, taken from somewhere to her left.

JJ waved at her from between some books. Emily shot her a surprised smile in response.

She closed her laptop, stood, and walked over to her.

“Creeper,” Emily whispered with a giggle.

JJ had a large textbook and some notebooks in her arms, and a backpack hanging off one shoulder, and leaned in towards Emily to speak quietly, which let Emily catch the light, fruity smell of her perfume, blending nicely with the earthy smell of the old books around them.

“Guilty as charged,” JJ smiled.

“What are you working on?” Emily asked, gesturing at her heavy load, she leaned and took a peek at the title of the textbook.

“French,” JJ said, “It’s hard to bullshit that when you don’t know it. I’ve got a midterm tomorrow.”

“Bien sûr,” Emily replied confidently in French.

JJ blinked.

“Tu parles Français?” JJ’s French was shaky and uncertain, with less of an accent than Emily would expect.

Emily coughed quietly and tried to clear her throat.

“I do,” she replied in French, “I’ve been told that when I was a toddler, I was speaking it more fluently than English.”

JJ glanced down, seeming to be translating her words for a brief moment before replying, slowly, clearly excited to use Emily for practise.

“Are you French?”

“No,” Emily said, “My mom wasn’t around much when we were living in France and the nanny didn’t speak English.”

“Ton nurse?” JJ asked, not knowing the definition of ‘nanny’ in French.

“Oh uh,” Emily replied in English, “My nanny, the lady who watched me when my mom was working. She’s an ambassador.”

JJ nodded, then switched to English. She didn’t ask about Emily’s dad, which Emily was grateful for.

“My family is French, originally I guess,” JJ said, “Hence Jareau , the French name. I remember my grandparents speaking it when I was growing up. I only learned a few words from them so I thought I’d take a course here. I need language courses for my communications degree anyways.”

“Your French is good!” Emily assured her. “Honestly mine is getting rusty, I have no one to practise on.”

“Well,” JJ said between coughs, “you could tutor me?”

Emily smiled. An opportunity to spend more time with her? She would take it. She nodded.

“Mais oui!” Emily replied in her most dramatic accent that she could manage, sending both girls into a fit of giggles.

“Shhhhh!” Someone at Emily’s table hissed.

The two girls made eye contact, then burst into another fit of giggles.

“I have a study room booked for nine,” JJ said, “If you want to join me.”

“Absolutely,” Emily replied, “I have a midterm tomorrow as well, so I’ll be here for awhile.”

“Allons-y!” JJ whisper-yelled.

Emily collected her things and followed JJ into a room down the hall, tucked behind the stacks. Inside, was a desk, a couple of white boards and a small window facing into the quad. It was small, with only two chairs. It was shocking that JJ even managed to snag that, the booking system filled up days in advance during midterm season.

“I hate whispering,” Emily said at normal volume once the door was shut.

“Libraries are supposed to be quiet,” JJ said.

“I’ve never been good at quiet.”

JJ laughed.

Emily sat down next to her, stealing a glance at JJ while she was distracted: she had a pair of track pants, with a loose fitted t-shirt on top, a pastel blue which complemented her skin tone well. On top, she had her varsity hoodie unzipped, with their school’s crest on display. She looked good, as always, despite being in basically athletic sweats looking ready to go to the gym at any moment.

Emily placed her books down next to JJ at the table, stacking her flash cards neatly next to it. JJ’s eyes widened at the sight of the pile.

“You don’t have to help if you don’t have time,” JJ said, “Honestly I would just appreciate the company.”

“Nonsense,” Emily replied, “I’d be happy to help. I’ve been working on these flash cards all day, I need a break anyways. How ‘bout we work through your practise sheets, then you quiz me after? What’s your test on?”

“Conjugation,” JJ replied, flipping her notes open to a page full of irregular verbs and their conjugations.

“Oh sweet,” Emily scanned the notes, “Present tense, I can do this.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, pulling her feet up to sit crossed-legged.

“I was worried you were going to ask me the difference between plus-que-parfait and subjonctif or something.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Lucky,” Emily said.

JJ then reached into her bag, pulling out a small case and revealing a pair of glasses—reading glasses—and put them onto her face. They were gold rimmed, round framed, and made her eyes slightly larger with the magnification.

“You-” Emily stuttered, her brain feeling like it was short circuiting at the sight of JJ, “Have glasses?”

“Yeah,” JJ muttered flipping through her notebook, “I don’t really need them but I’ve been staring at screens all day and my eyes are tired.”

“Nerd,” Emily fake-coughs. JJ’s draw drops and she hits Emily playfully with her notebook, whacking her on the arm lightly.

“You promised to help me, not mock me for my bad eyes,” JJ huffs.

“Ok fine let’s conjugate… hmmm… ‘voir’ to start,” Emily jokes, spinning her pen between her fingers.

“I know you’re kidding but I actually don’t know that one.”

Emily grins and begins explaining to her how to conjugate ‘to see’ in French.

“Now,” Emily says, “If you want to talk about how I can see, and you can’t—because you’re blind—you would write: Emily voit. Emily sees.”

“Elle voit? V-o-i-t?”

“Oui, et, Jennifer ne voit pas!” Emily giggles, “Jennifer does not see!”

“Ha-ha,” JJ says, not laughing.

“Sorry, I’ll stop now,” Emily says, picking up the worksheet and reading it over.

“Basically,” JJ says, “I need to just memorize this list of common irregular verbs by tomorrow. I already have the regular er, ir and re verbs down.”

“Cocky girl,” Emily said. “I like it.”

“Ok what verb should we start with?”

“Vouloir,” Emily said, “to want.”

The deeper meaning of this was not lost on her, even as she said it. Emily was far past the point of denying it to herself, or Morgan when he teased her, Emily wanted JJ.

“Start with je,” Emily continued, unfazed by her own internal monologue. “What do you want?”

“Je veux… un biscuit,” JJ said, sticking her pen in her mouth. She was so cute when she focused, chewing distractedly on the cap, with her glasses falling down her nose.

“Now what would I want?” Emily prompted, trying to focus back on the worksheet and not JJ in profile, gazing at the gentle slope of her nose, her pink lips that would probably taste like chapstick.

“Tu veux du thé?” JJ grinned, evoking their previous late-night hang out.  

“Oui,” Emily smiled, “I could definitely use some of your tea right now. Stuck with coffee for now though. I need the caffeine.”

They continued through that verb, moving down her list and covering aller, mettre, venir, before cycling back to the most important ones to make sure JJ had them memorized. Covering lots of ground, the two girls spent almost two hours straight working through her midterm prep booklet.

“Thanks so much for helping,” JJ said. “Maybe you could tutor me again sometime.”

Emily grinned. Maybe it was just tutoring but that meant hours alone with her and her pretty face and her laugh and the way she smelled like warm vanilla.

“Whenever you need me!”

“Je suis excité!” JJ said, in French, which was definitely not what she aimed to say.

Emily began to laugh. Hard. It started as a giggle but the sheer ridiculousness of her situation made it so much funnier. Her crush just looked her in the eyes and told her she was horny.  

“What?!” JJ demanded, nervously laughing at Emily’s reaction.

“Oh gosh I’m sorry,” Emily tried to calm down, to hold in her laughs. “In French we never say excité. It does not mean excited.”

“What does it mean?”

“JJ you just said that you were horny,” Emily made out between laughs. It must be the lack of sleep that made the simple mistake so much funnier.

“Emily!” JJ laughed, “don’t laugh at me I didn’t know!”

Emily’s laughter was infectious and before long the two girls were lost in a fit of giggles.

“You should say: ‘J’ai hâte!’” Emily said eventually, “it means I can’t wait. Like: J’ai hâte d'étudier avec toi. Or Je suis ravi. Or impatiente. Just don’t go around telling people how horny you are.”

“Fine,” JJ said, with a slight pout, “ J’ai hâte. ”

Emily nodded.

“I guess I can say I learned something today,” JJ murmured, “I guess it really is the language of love.”

Emily didn’t say anything, taking a sip of her cold coffee to muffle the squeak threatening to come out of her throat

“So,” JJ changed the subject, “gimme your flash cards. What are you learning?”

Before Emily could earn her, JJ flipped over the first card which read: ‘SEXUAL DISORDERS!’ in Emily’s messy script.

“On the same theme,” JJ murmured.

And so for the next hour, JJ and Emily made their way through her psychology flash cards, slowly making sure that Emily had the endless serious mental health disorders, personality disorders and other terms memorized before her midterm.

Luckily, In the process of writing them down, and due to her religious commitment to attending lectures, Emily had already retained most of them. Studying with JJ did help, because it forced her to explain some of the concepts in plain language, which, she found, furthered her understanding.

Moreover, JJ had brought snacks. Which made studying every more doable when she  could award herself with an m&m for each correct answer.

The thing was, half way through Emily’s stack of cards, and as the night crept on, JJ’s energy crashed as the girl’s body decided that it was way past her bedtime and that she should be asleep.

Unlike Emily, JJ was clearly not a night owl.

Eventually, Emily finished up her studying alone, discovering that the blonde was just about useless, as she read out gibberish and expected Emily to understand her. JJ finally fell asleep sitting up at about one-thirty in the morning. Emily decided to leave her be as she still needed to jot a few things down.

“JJ?” Emily murmured after a few minutes, poking the other girl with her pen. “JJ? Wake up.”

“Mm?” JJ murmured, her eyes still closed shut, her head heavy resting on her hand. She was adorable.

“I’m calling it,” Emily said, closing her textbook. “It’s almost two. We’ve studied enough.”

“Mmm… yeah I don’t know if I can fit any more French in my brain,” JJ rubbed her eyes.

“I think you’ll do just fine!”

They packed up their things, bundling up against the cold fall air. JJ went through the motions with her eyes half shut, allowing Emily to guide her out of their study room, down the spiral staircase and into the lobby.  

Unfortunately, as they stood just inside the library door, the clouds broke, sending rain pouring down onto campus. Sighing at their poor timing, they pulled their hoods over their hair in an attempt to stay relatively dry.

They walked home, laughing as it rained down onto them.

JJ seemed to wake up and her prior drowsiness seemed to fade into the night sky. She giggled as she splashed in a puddle, and her yellow jacket lit up under a street lamp.

Emily grinned, feeling elated in her exhaustion. How lucky she was! Splashing in the rain with JJ, which was a strange yet pleasant ending to what had promised to be a dredge of an evening. JJ waited for a moment, letting Emily catch out before grasping onto Emily’s hand and holding on, pulling her through the rain.

They tore through the torrential downpour, their hands clasped together, unbothered by the cold as the fiery feeling of JJ’s hand in her own had her full attention. A warm feeling filled her chest as she thought about how it was JJ who wanted to hold Emily’s hand.

Not caring whether it was just a friendly hand hold, or if it meant more, Emily’s heart soared.

JJ’s hand was smaller than hers, and their fingers fell together perfectly, comfortably linked like they were built to do so.

They only let go once they reached the door to their building, as Emily fumbled with the wet metal key ring in her pocket, unlocking the front door and offering the two relief from the rain.

They lingered in the hall, both damp, looking at each other as the tiredness returned and settled into their bones. Emily could see the bags under JJ’s eyes, the exhaustion clear on her face. Her cheeks were flushed from running through the rain and her blonde hair wet and tangled from the wind.

A voice in Emily’s head demanded that she reach out her hands, firmly grab the sides of JJ’s perfect face and kiss her then and there. It would be so perfect, their lips would meet and JJ would rest her hands on Emily’s hips. She would pull her in close and their bodies would crash into each other, fitting together perfectly. Emily’s tongue would graze against JJ’s lips, and their kiss would deepen until finally they would pull apart and-

“Goodnight, Emily,” JJ said, smiling at her sweetly, “Get some sleep before your midterm.”

Emily was brought crashing back into reality.

“Oh,” Emily said, “Yeah you too, you need it.”

“Thank you for helping me out,” JJ continued, “I was having a really bad day and you really made me feel a lot better.”

JJ looked down.  

“Yeah, uh, this morning I broke up with Will. Or maybe he broke up with me. I don’t know,” she admitted, “and with the midterm… then the home game tomorrow afternoon...“

She sighed.

“It was a long day and I’m grateful for your company.”

Kiss her, the voice in her head screamed, do it!

“I’m sorry about your break up, either way,” Emily said sincerely. “I feel the same way. I mean, I enjoyed your company. I think I’m going to do well on my midterm too.”

She smiled at JJ who returned it sleepily. Emily kicked herself for the awkward phrasing but blamed the fact that it was late at night and she was processing the fact that her crush was single. Single and had held her hand.

“Bonne chance demain,” Emily said with a wave, wishing JJ luck.

They looked at each other for another moment, before turning and unlocking their individual rooms. That night, Emily dreamt of Paris, cookies and the girl across the hall.

[atiny-piratequeen]

Against the Tide Eighth Voyage (Ch.8)

Pairing : Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Eventual Smut and Fluff mixed in

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relationship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death

Chapter Specific Tags: Graphic Violence and Blood Semi-Graphic Mentions of Injury Sexual Content Sexual TWs for: Choking, Bondage, Powers During Sex (Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Yunho), Concentacle Tentacles (Yunho, again. It's brief but yeah, lets go monsterfuckertiny *waves flag), Service Top, Gentle Bottom Domming, Light Degredation, Praise Kink, Full Nelson Position

WC: 18.8K

A/N: :) Hi. Hello. It's ya girl, Fie. I've finally finished and I hope everyone likes what I have in store for this chapter. For all my detetctivetiny readers, I have some fun things for you in store. I will say, there will be an end note this time because theres a portion that has some flowers and its kind of important that you lovelies know what they mean. So for some of my non-detectivetiny, for once, I'll drop a bit more than breadcrumbs. For that part, anyway.

Taglist moved to the bottom of the work. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this or my other works, feel free to fill out the form here after reading the full post.

AO3

Taglist

← Last Voyage  Next Voyage →

“Is it hot enough?”

“Working on it, I think it’s melting. I'll make it hotter.”

Wooyoung glanced around the corner of the makeshift room he had made. Sweat ran down his brow from the intense heat on the inside of the room, but he was more concerned with them finishing the project they had started.

“It’s melted, do you have the molds?” Yunho’s voice brought him back to the task at hand and Wooyoung stuck his head back into the room, nodding as he set some molds down. Yeosang held up his hand, his eyes shining and his tail swaying behind him as he tilted his hand, a molten substance dribbling from his palm and into the molds.

Seonghwa chilled the room, to the delight of the others and Wooyoung sung gently, his eyes determined as he lightly cut into the item that was forming in the molds. He continued singing, smiling as a thin metal frame covered what was cooling from the once-molten substance.

After an hour or so of careful molding and bending, Wooyoung held up the item he, Yunho, Yeosang, and Seonghwa had been working on for a few hours.

A pair of circular rimmed glasses.

Wooyoung admired his work, grinning as the other boys peeked over his shoulders and head.

The rims had small, fine engravings into them, with designs Wooyoung had taken from one of Mingi’s favorite books. Tiny geometric designs adorned the top of the frame and along the legs of the glasses were small metallic vines, and right on the end piece, was a small name engraved in cursive.

‘Song Mingi ♡’

The men smiled cheerfully and Seonghwa passed him a decorative box he had picked up from the last port. Wooyoung gently set it in the box and lowered the makeshift room, yawning as he saw the sun coming up.

They had been at this project for hours, deciding to make Mingi a pair of glasses. The man had been struggling with some of the books he was trying to read, with the texts being much too small for him to see, leaving him squinting to see them better. They found out he was farsighted, and often sat at uncomfortable angles with books way too close to his face in order to read some of the novels he’d purchased.

“I hope he likes it.” Yeosang muttered tiredly, kitsune ears twitching above his head as he yawned. Seonghwa inhaled deeply, blowing lightly.

A cool breeze blew over them and the men relaxed instantly as the first mate nodded towards the cabins.

“Let’s rest a bit. Mingi will love it.”

                                                  -👓-

“...."

"......"

A sniffle.

"Oh honey, no-"

Wooyoung and the others held their hands up to try and console Mingi as he broke down crying, holding the box with his new glasses close to his chest. Hongjoong and Jongho rubbed his back lightly as he took the pair of glasses out with shaky hands

The second tallest crew member cried, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he held the glasses delicately, admiring them through his blurry vision.  

"I c-can't see it well b-because I'm crying-"

"Amorzinho, please don't cry, it's okay." Seonghwa’s mature voice soothed Mingi as he pulled out a handkerchief, lightly wiping Mingi's eyes before he smiled softly, holding it up to his nose.

The other pirates held back small giggles at the way Mingi delicately blew his nose, hiccuping as Seonghwa wiped the tears off his cheeks with cool, slightly chilled fingers.

Having calmed down, Mingi took time to look over the glasses, a fond look on his reddened face.

"It's so pretty." He mused, sliding them on his face. He beamed happily at the others and San whistled, smiling as he leaned against Yunho’s sturdy frame.

"Looking good there, handsome."

Mingi blushed and lowered his head and Wooyoung bounced happily, bounding up to Mingi to press his lips to his cheek.

"See? You look great! C'mon, you can come read the names of the towns on the mew map San and I drew up!" He tugged Mingi along, chattering a mile a minute as San joined them, tossing an arm over his shoulder casually.

Mingi blushed and waved bye to the other crew members before he lowered his head, listening to Wooyoung talk about how they made the glasses.

He fingered the legs of the glasses on his face, a smile tugging at his lips.

-4 Hours Later-

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”

There was a small silence before a small noise left Mingi’s throat.

“Yeo?”

Yeosang looked up from the tea he was brewing, humming as he lifted the lid to the small sterling silver dome he’d placed on the table. He tilted his head at the perplexed look on Mingi’s face as he scanned the words on the page.

“Yes, Mingi?”

“Did I do okay?”

Yeosang smiled and sat down beside him, holding his hand as Mingi looked away from him, shy. He still sometimes got self conscious asking the others for assistance when reading and writing. He was worried about asking ‘stupid’ questions or for some form of validation, but the other crew members were always quick to ease his worries, comforting him.

“You did so good. You didn’t miss any words. I’m proud of you.” Yeosang kissed the back of his work-worn hands, motioning to the plate on the table.

“Take a break, Mingi. Eat your cake and pears while they’re still warm. I made some blood orange tea from some spices, dried oranges, and rose hips. I put a little more sugar in the tea, so you gotta tell me if it tastes good with the cake and pears.”

Mingi looked down at the tray, finding a few still-steaming pears. The smell of maple syrup and vanilla drifted up into his nose and he felt his mouth water slightly, glancing over at the small circular cake sitting near the baked pears.

“It’s apple olive oil cake with some walnuts inside. I’ve never made it before, so please let me know how it tastes.” Yeosang requested, watching as Mingi lifted the fork to his lips, breaking off a piece of the syrupy pear and eating it first. His eyes lit up behind his glasses as he took a larger chunk of the baked fruit.

“I take it you like it?”

“You’re such an amazing cook, Yeo-yeo. I love eating your food.” Mingi chirped, taking a slice of the warm cake too. Yeosang watched him, a small blush to his cheeks as Mingi praised his food. As he sipped his tea, he glanced at the poem book in front of him.

“Tell me about your book.”

Mingi perked up and blushed as he looked at the book.

“It’s a poem book. It has a lot of romantic poems in it...it’s pretty easy to read. Do you want to hear my favorite one?” He inquired shyly. Yeosang nodded, licking maple syrup off of his lips as he gave Mingi his undivided attention.

Mingi shuffled and began reading, a bit slower than last time now that he knew Yeosang was anticipating the poem.

“You came to the side of the bed

and sat staring at me.

Then you kissed me—I felt

hot wax on my forehead.

I wanted it to leave a mark:

That's how I knew I loved you.

Because I wanted to be burned, stamped,

to have something in the end—

I drew the gown over my head;

a red flush covered my face and shoulders.

It will run its course, the course of fire,

setting a cold coin on the forehead, between the eyes.

You lay beside me; your hand moved over my face

as though you had felt it also—

you must have known, then, how I wanted you.

We will always know that, you and I.

The proof will be my body.”

Mingi shied and looked away as Yeosang tilted his head, his chin rested in his palm.

“It’s a sensual one. That one is your favorite?” There was no judgemental edge in his voice, but Mingi’s face still went dark pink as he bit his lip, nodding once. Yeosang smiled and raised a piece of baked pear to his lips, his eyes half lidded and kind.

“I’m so proud of you. You’ve been learning at such a quick pace, it’s amazing. Truly, you’re such a hard worker, Mingi. It’s inspiring.”

Mingi’s bashfully bit into the warm fruit, his lips lightly brushing against the tips of Yeosang’s fingers. Yeosang lifted his gaze to him, humming comfortably at how close they were.

The smell of apples, cinnamon, sugar, and pears bounced off of their breath as they stared into each other’s eyes. Mingi’s gaze flickered down to his lips before looking at his half lidded eyes.

“I really like it when you guys praise me. Is that selfish?”

There was a small, unsure tone in his voice Yeosang knew well. He shook his head, his grey eyes full of love as he ran his thumb over Mingi’s lips.

“It’s not selfish. Especially after what you went through with Bella, you still doubt yourself and your worth, even after being aboard with us for so long, right?”

Mingi bit his lip, but Yeosang lightly pulled it free from his teeth, leaning even more into his space, his free hand resting on Mingi’s thick thigh. Mingi’s breath hitched.

“I don’t mean to I-”

“It’s okay, it still happens to me, too. But it’s okay.”

Mingi watched him lean closer, his eyes falling half lidded to match his as the ex prince leaned in, rubbing his bottom lip in a way that made a shiver run down Mingi’s spine before he sealed the kiss. He let Yeosang control it, groaning lightly when the hand Yeosang had rested on his thigh began to squeeze and knead.

Mingi ran his hand through dark brunette locks, pulling Yeosang closer to him. They didn’t break the kiss until they were both breathless, the taste of the sugary desserts leaving a lovely taste that lingered in their mouths as they stared at each other. Their lips shone with saliva as Yeosang began to speak, keeping themselves so close, Mingi could feel the warmth rolling off of his body.

“You’re so good, Mingi. Our hard working Song Mingi, someone we can always count on.”

Mingi whimpered lightly and looked up at him in need, running his large hands down Yeosang’s cheek, down the back of his neck and spine, smiling at the small gasp and arch the cook let out from the touch.

“I want to make you feel good. Can I?”

Yeosang looked up at him, sighing in delight at the way Mingi tilted his head down to kiss and nibble at his jawline. He closed his eyes, lightly pulling at Mingi’s clothes as he licked and kissed his neck.

“Please, Yeo. I can make you feel good. Will you let me?”

Yeosang could tell the underlying message behind those words from the near desperate look in Mingi’s eyes.

‘I can do it. Use me. Use me to feel good.’

Yeosang cupped his cheek and nodded, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

A few minutes of awkward fumbling, a quick, very obvious run to Yunho’s room for a jar containing a concoction the doctor had made for the crew’s...intimate encounters, and some light hearted laughter and kisses later and Yeosang was splayed out on his bed, his head tilted back as Mingi’s long fingers stretched him open.

Plump lips trailed fiery kisses down Yeosang’s chest, with Mingi flicking his tongue out to roll over his nipple. Yeosang groaned, combing his fingers through Mingi’s hair as he sunk the third finger into his hole.

“Mingi~” He sighed out, smiling to himself at the shudder that left Mingi’s body as he scissored his fingers apart, pressing small, loving kisses to Yeosang’s abdomen, smiling against the soft skin of his belly.

Yeosang wasn’t as lean as some of the other members of the crew since he wasn’t as combat inclined most of the time, and with him being the cook and sampling all of his food before he served them, he’d gained a layer or two of fat.

Mingi loved admiring the soft skin when they were together, from the kisses he trailed along the light cream colored stretch marks on his hips.

“M-Mingi, more.”

Yeosang’s voice brought his attention back to his intended task, and Mingi looked up, tilting his head. Yeosang spread his legs, his eyes dark with want.

“I want you to make me feel good like you always do.”

Those must have been the words Mingi had been waiting to hear, because he shivered and kissed back up his body, letting Yeosang pull him into another kiss as he replaced his fingers with his cock, whining when Yeosang reached between them, stroking some of the lubricant onto Mingis cock before he purred into his kiss.

“I need you, Mingi. I want you.”

The boatswain shuddered in delight. Whenever one of them told him he was wanted in that tone it just-

Focus, Mingi. You have to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

Mingi tucked his head in Yeosang’s neck, sliding his cock into his stretched hole with a low sound akin to a growl and a mewl. Yeosang was always so warm, inside and out. Whether or not it was because of his powers, Mingi didn’t know, or really care. All he knew is the welcoming warmth of Yeosang’s body, inviting him to come inside, and to stay for as long as he’d like, moving in harmony with the smaller pirate.

Below him, Yeosang screwed his eyes shut, his lips parting as he felt Mingi bottom out inside of him. He clung to him, small moans leaving his mouth as Mingi began rolling his hips, pulling out just until his cockhead caught on the rim of Yeosang’s pucker before he pushed back in fully, dragging shaky groans from both the deep-voiced men.

“J-Just like that, Mingi. You feel so good stuffing me like this. Do you see how nice my body feels because of you?” Yeosang cooed, and Mingi took some time to truly admire him, his mouth watering at the way Yeosang’s brown nipples were perked up, one still damp from Mingi’s mouth a few minutes prior. His cock leaked against his stomach, and there were a few dark splotches that marked up his neck from Mingi’s biting kisses. His face was flushed red, and Mingi took some time out to press his lips to the ex prince’s birthmark.

As Mingi rolled his hips down, Yeosang arched his back up, a particularly loud moan leaving his lips as he brushed over that delightful bundle inside. At any point, someone could walk by and find them or overhear them.

Overhear how good Mingi was for Yeosang, how he was the one to make the smaller man moan like this, this time.

The thought alone of being the reason for Yeosang’s pleasure made a whimper fall from Mingi’s lips as he grabbed one of Yeosang’s hands. The smaller man smiled and cupped his cheek, pulling him down so their lips brushed against each other.

“Oh? What was that? Was that a whimper? Does it feel good? Do you know how close I am, Mingi? All for you, all because of you. You’re loving me so well, baby, I can feel myself getting closer and closer.” He moaned against Mingi’s lips, his eyes glowing as he used his powers, purring below Mingi as a second Yeosang wrapped his arms around the man’s frame.

Mingi’s hips stuttered in surprise, the warm feeling of Yeosang’s illusion making him gasp as the second kitsune ran his hands up and down Mingi’s toned abs. He pressed warm kisses to Mingi’s shoulder, clawed hands lightly dragging over Mingi’s nipples and making the man shudder.

“That’s it, Mingi. Keep going, look at how close I am. Don’t I look so pretty like that? Look at my face.” the second Yeosang turned his face, and Mingi felt his cock twitch hard inside of him at the first Yeo.

His eyes were closed, his fists pulling the sheets in a white knuckled grip as he rolled his hips down, meeting Mingi’s hips every time he thrusted into him. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of him and Yeosang’s lispy, wanton cries of ‘please please please, yes-’ brought Mingi closer and closer, his grip on Yeosang’s hips tightening as he began breathing harshly through his nose.

The second Yeosang’s foxy ears twitched in delight, turning Mingi’s chin to kiss him deeply, toying with his nipples as he rolled his tongue against Mingi’s. A snow white tail swished to and fro behind his bottom as Mingi rocked into his lover. He broke the kiss with the double, pressing their heads together as he reached down, stroking the original Yeosang’s cock in time with his thrusts.

“Please, I want you to cum first. Let me see, tell me how I make you feel.” Mingi all but pleaded, rubbing his thumb over Yeosang’s drooling slit, his brows pulled up and his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he turned to give the real Yeosang his undivided attention.

Yeosang whined, spreading his legs more and holding them open as he took every thrust, his mouth falling open. His eyes fluttered, rolling back as he reached for Mingi’s hand.

“Yes, yes yes, Mingi! Mingi!!”

Mingi watched as Yeosang fell apart for him. Bucking up, Yeosang shook as stars exploded behind his vision. He pulled Mingi in, kissing him hard as he clenched around his cock.

“Cum for me, Mingi.” He shuddered, all but roaring as he stilled his hips, his cock sputtering rope after rope of warm cum into Yeosang.

The two held each other, with Mingi pressing small, affectionate kisses to his jaw. Yeosang caressed his cheeks and smiled at him, eyes half lidded.

“Thank you, Mingi.” Yeosang mewled, keeping a leg wrapped around his waist to keep him inside. Mingi kissed him and nodded, a wave of shyness falling over him again.

“Was I-”

“You were amazing, as always.”

Mingi smiled and held him close with no intention of pulling out of him. Yeosang chuckled and held him close. They stayed in each other's arms, joined together until it was time for them to pull away to start dinner.

They held hands all the way down to the galley after cleaning up, gentle smiles on their faces.

-🌴-

“Okay. Are you ready?”

Jongho looked around at the crew embers, a gentle smile on his face as some of them watched him for instruction, while the others stared intently at the pair of sticks in front of them.

He had spent days teaching tī rakau -a stick game he’d been taught to do ever since he was a child-to the crew members. Yunho had made them some hallowed out sticks using his powers, and now he walked through the pairs of crew members to see if everyone was in position.

Some sat on their knees, some sat cross legged. All of them looked determined to get this right. Jongho chuckled, feeling Whiro curiously shift along his skin as he sat down across from Hongjoong. The captain had his tongue poking out from his lips.

Cute.

“Ready, Jongho!” Wooyoung cheered, bouncing on his knees he sat across from Seonghwa. The prince sat still, his eyes focused as he waited for Jongho’s cue. Jongho ran his hand through his wavy hair, the long onyx-colored locks falling down past his shoulders after he pulled his bun free.

With a chuckle, Jongho started singing, proud when a few of the other members, albeit with shaky pronunciations, sang along with him.

“E hine, hoki mai ra.”

The group picked up their respective sticks, grabbing them as they began singing. They followed Jongho’s lead, just as he had taught them to, tapping the sticks against the floor before tapping them together, gently swaying their bodies to keep their rhythm.

“E pāpā Waiari,

Taku nei mahi

Taku nei mahi,

He tuku roimata.”

As they sang, they began to toss the sticks to the person across from them, still swaying and singing. The game was taught to young Māori children and carried out as tradition all the way to the adults.

‘Ē aue, ka mate au;

E hine hoki mai rā

Ē aue, ka mate au;

E hine hoki mai rā’

Jongho was proud of the men and women around him, catching one of Hongjoong’s sticks, tapping it against the deck, before tossing the one in his opposite hand to Hongjoong. The pace of the song picked up as Jongho sung louder, his gums showing as he tossed both of his sticks to and fro to his captain.

“Māku e kaute

Ō hīkoitanga

Māku e kaute

Ō hīkoitanga”

They went a few rounds until San slipped up and dropped Mingi's stick. The deck exploded into merry laughter as San scrambled to grab his sticks.

"Done! I won!" Mingi cheered, his eyes little crescents behind his glasses as San pouted across from him. Hongjoong looked over at them, a small smile on his face before he looked towards Jongho as he and Whiro collected the sticks, depositing them in a small chest they kept at the corner of the deck that held items they used for games. Some cards, a few colorful dice, a checkerboard, and some horseshoes lay at the bottom of the chest. The sticks eclipsed the other items and Jongho smiled as he closed it.

The boys fell into comfortable chatter as Yeosang moved to get dinner with Mingi and Seonghwa’s assistance. After he set the sticks aside, Jongho sat down beside Yunho and Wooyoung, pulling out a chunk of a familiar purple stone.

Before they left the cave with the wyverns, Yunho had grabbed a large chunk of charoite, handing it to Jongho with a kind smile once they had gotten safely aboard the ship.

-“I saw you staring at them in the cave and I figured I would give you a memento. It’s a terrible shame you kind of...had it lodged in your body for a while, but here.”-

The young ex bounty hunter had looked upon it in wonder before he cheerfully took it.

Since then, he had begun carving into the rock, a small determined smile on his face. He mentioned finally being able to put Mateo’s mere to rest, now that he’d redeemed himself and learning to carve weapons from watching his father. He and Whiro must have found some common ground, as well, as the entity would watch on, seemingly admiring Jongho’s craftsmanship, while also putting in his own input in swiftly spoken Māori.

San watched them with curious eyes, smiling as Yeosang settled their plates in front of them. The chef put a hand on his hip before he gently plucked Jongho’s forehead.

“Hey. Weapons away from the table.”

“But-”

“Choi Jongho.”

Jongho puffed his cheeks out, a small blush coming to his cheeks. He, like Mingi, didn’t have a last name before. To the surprise of the others, he’d asked to have San’s last name since the older man was technically the reason his life was saved.

Had he not pleaded with Hongjoong, he may not have been there.

Anyway, the youngest pouted, setting the charoite under the table. Whiro snickered at his scolding before he returned to being a tā moko on his arms when Yeosang leered in warning.

Yeosang smiled softly, then, and moved on to the next person, gently instructing Mingi and Seonghwa with who got what.

They ate and talked together. Yunho quietly shared his findings on the entity inside of him, letting the others know he was part of a deity named ‘Geb’. The kind fractured god couldn’t remember much from his time inside Hyuna’s box, but he often told them tales of Egypt and fantastical stories of his time as a fully fledged god.

They all watched him speak through Yunho between bites before others joined in the dinnerside storytime, telling old sailor’s tales and stories of their homelands.

Hongjoong watched them all with a small smile on his face, bringing a cup of water to his lips. Mingi’s head fell onto his shoulder as the younger man finished his food, the lethargy that came after eating a good meal making his eyes droop. Hongjoong kissed his head, going slightly cross eyed as he looked up at him.

“Sleepy, baby?”

“Mm...Can I sleep with you and Hwa today?” He mumbled, his voice rough with tiredness. Hongjoong chuckled and wiped the corner of his lips, cleaning it of some excess sauce before he nodded.

“Of course, Mingi. You can rest on me until we go upstairs.”

Satisfied, Mingi nuzzled his shoulder, closing his eyes and resting until everyone finished eating and separated to their own quarters. Hongjoong settled himself between Mingi and Seonghwa, drifting off to sleep with the tall men tucked into his sides.  

-🌊-

“Open your eyes.”

Hongjoong shot up with a start, gasping as he tried to regain his bearings, temporarily disoriented.

He looked around, taking in the royal feeling of the building he was standing in. He began to walk, the dull sound from his boots against the expensive looking marble tile under his feet being the only sound in the palace. Rows upon rows of stone columns littered each side of the hall as he walked through the quiet palace hallway.

The only other sound came from the water just outside of the columns.

Water?

Hongjoong walked over to the columns and examined the water, blinking in almost childlike wonder as he noticed the fish swimming just outside of them, going on about their daily aquatic lives as if there weren’t a huge, open palace submerged just feet away from where they swam.

Dreams are weird, man.

Hongjoong turned his attention back to the hall before him, his boots once again making an echoed sound as he walked further down the hall. The deeper he went, the more he felt like someone or something was watching him.

He stopped before a pair of large doors, running calloused fingertips over the engraved gold and jade decor on them before he pulled one of them open, grunting from the strain of the heavy door. When he walked into the room, he felt like he had dove deeper into the water around him just outside the castle.

The pressure of being deeper in the sea made his steps sluggish as he walked into the room. The columns were gone, replaced by a row of purple wisteria, dangling down and creating a nearly overpowering sweet scent in the new hall. He coughed slightly before he kept walking, his feet making gentle splashes with every step.

He looked down, and at his feet, he could see purple water lilies and blue lotuses floating around below him, accompanied by lily pads. Some of which had the occasional scale or two settled on top of it.

Curious, Hongjoong knelt down, picking up some of the scales, looking at them in his hand.

They glittered in the light of the room, and Hongjoong brought it closer, admiring the turquoise and jade coloring to the scale.

As he turned it in his finger, it sliced into it, drawing a hiss from him. A single drop of his blood landed into the water and the palace instantly began to rumble. He blinked in surprise and shot up, looking around him as the wisteria began to blow aggressively, as if a strong gust of wind had disturbed them. The blue lotuses and purple water lilies swirled in the water by his feet and his eyes grew as a large shadowy figure appeared at the side of the wisteria, outside in the deep ocean.

Hongjoong looked at it, noticing it was a dragon. He swallowed thickly, noticing the thick base of the dragon as it eyed him, the same turquoise and jade scales that were on the lily pads adorning its body. Two, long whisker-like extensions stretched past its massive head as it turned towards him, gleaming green eyes piercing into Hongjoong’s being.

It raised it’s horned head, massive clawed hands and feet making a splash as it lunged from the deep ocean into the long hall. Hongjoong’s eyes grew as its eyes gleamed, it’s lip curling up before it let out a bone chilling roar.

Alarm bells went off in his head as he turned, running full speed as the dragon lunged at him, a blast of water propelling it as the wisteria swished with the motion of its body rushing forward. His legs burned as he ran, each step seemingly sinking into the water that once held him up. The roots to the lilies and lotuses tangled up at his feet and tripped him up, and he hit the water with a splash, the dragon just barely missing biting into his form as it soared over him.

He panted, lifting his head before the water that was accelerating the dragon swept him up, blasting him forward and depositing him pitifully at the end of the long hall.

He coughed, spitting out brackish water, pounding his fist on his chest before he looked up, sweeping his wet bangs back, his eyes widening as he noticed the giant throne situated at the end of the hallway. The captain was in instant awe at the flamboyant and exaggerated gold accents to it.

His eyes were drawn to the man sitting in the throne, one of his legs planted on the floor as the other was strewn over the arm of it. His elbow was propped on the other arm, with his free hand resting between his legs, a bouquet sticking out from under his long sleeve. Hongjoong couldn’t take his eyes off of the man, eyeing the scales and veins on his face as he swayed his foot idly.

He eyed Hongjoong back and his lips quirked.

“Captain.”

Hongjoong shuddered, looking at a near mirror image of himself. The man smirked and tilted his head, still remaining in his seat. The ‘other’ him looked amused at his reaction and brought his leg down, standing slowly. His head cocked to the left as he slowly descended the steps.

Hongjoong took in the length of the silken robes. The sleeves went down past his thighs when he put his hands down, completely obscuring the bouquet. His hair was a dark blue, nearly black color, with most of it dangling down past his shoulders, aside from the small amount pulled up into a bun at the top of his head. The robes dragged slightly on the floor as he walked closer to Hongjoong, and the captain couldn’t help but to take a step back, feeling unease fill his body.

“Oh? Where did your backbone go, Captain? Are you afraid?”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed in defiance, opening his mouth to deny the claim (even if it did have a shred of truth to it), but the man was suddenly right in front of him, gleaming green eyes piercing into Hongjoong’s. The captain tensed and the man hummed, grabbing Hongjoong’s face with a clawed hand. Hongjoong leered at him, finding his voice.

“Who are you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Look at me, Captain. Who do you think I am?”

The man leaned into his space, his breath hot against Hongjoong’s ear.

“I’m your significant ‘other’, if you will. Ah, that sounds a bit too intimate, doesn’t it?” the mirror image let Hongjoong go and laughed, slowly circling around him.

“The true power? Mmm...no, that’s too dull. Maybe ‘your better half’? It’s accurate, but still a mouthful, let’s see…”

Hongjoong kept his eyes on him, growling as he watched the man ignore him in lieu of continuing his prattle.

Fed up, Hongjoong reached for the blunderbuss at his waist, but a tendril of water wrapped around his wrist, making him cringe in pain as the man suddenly stopped in front of him again, a single brow arched.

“Impatient, are you? That’s the problem with the youth of today, so impatient. I waited for so long since that wench stole my powers and gave them to you to finally communicate and you’re already so eager to create conflict. Though your pension for violence is delicious, keep still for a bit, would you? It’s my turn to steal the show.”

Hongjoong struggled against the tendril as more wrapped around his body, forcing him to his knees before the royal-looking man. He made a sweeping motion, his sleeve gracefully dangling through the air as he continued his speaking as if he hadn’t been interrupted in the first place.

“I have tried to speak to you several times now, Captain. I bet you didn’t even notice some of your most important decisions to date have had me right there beside you, guiding you. I am your victory. Your righteousness. I am your power. Ah, for now. Before I take it all back.”

The man checked his clawed nails as if he hadn’t dropped the last part, the thinly veiled threat. Hongjoong twitched from below him, growling when he noticed he couldn’t use his own water powers to remove the tendrils of water holding him down.

“This is just a dream. I’ve already controlled my powers. We’ve passed many full moons since I was turned. If I had to fight my demonic self again, why would it be now after years of having my powers?”

“‘Demonic’, huh? Such useless prattle. Hardly a label big enough for my power, Captain. 'Demon', hahaha...You really think you’re in control, hm? Cute, but so very very wrong.”

The mirror Hongjoong hummed and snapped his fingers, the clothing on his body changing to something Hongjoong was more familiar with.

He adjusted the leather jacket over his shoulders, the black t-shirt he was wearing being tucked into the waistband of the tight leather pants clinging to his legs. Gone was his long hair, now replaced with a shorter style, shaved at the sides. Dangling chains adorned his neck and ears and as he looked down at Hongjoong, he raised a single brow with an x shape cut into the hairs and a single gemstone in the center of the x.

“There. That’s a bit more breathable. Now. As I was saying-”

He crouched down, tilting his head smugly as Hongjoong struggled subtly against the powerful tendrils. He grabbed his face again with strong ringed fingers, his claws slightly digging into Hongjoong’s skin as he spoke, his voice a low growl.

“You really are a naive little man, aren’t you? You’ll sit and believe everything that woman says to you, nod along to every story she has to spin without asking a single question, mm? Life is so much easier this way, isn't it? Being fed a grandiose tale and never stopping to ask for clarity? Such a simple life, being told what's truth instead of finding it yourself. Captain Jihyo must be proud.”

Hongjoong’s anger flared as he lunged forward, ignoring the tight tendrils around his body as he swung up, headbutting his ‘other’ self. He cracked him in the lip, but the other him didn’t budge, simply touching his lip before he chuckled, running his tongue over the blood that ran down it.

“Angry? Good. That is how we remain strong after all, Captain. We get angry. We conquest. We dominate.”

He stood, rolling his arm on his shoulder before he moved his attention back to the bouquet in his other hand. He pursed his lips before chuckling, running his fingers through the bouquet of mostly purple and orange flowers. Hongjoong took note of the black and white flowers situated in the center of the bouquet, standing out in the otherwise vibrant-colored flowers.

“Captain, did you know there are meanings behind some blooms and their colors? Apparently. I suppose mortals have decided to give such little, insignificant items deeper meanings. It’s something I’ve taken interest in while I bide my time.” He hummed and ran his thumb over some of the petals. Hongjoong sneered at him, but he was ignored.

“Orange lilies, purple petunias, orange and purple petunias, snapdragons, and of course, a black rose and asphodel for the centerpiece. It’s amazing how much meaning such beautiful blooms are given. I’ve been waiting for you to hear me to give these to you. Consider this a gift.” He tossed it at Hongjoong’s knees before turning his back on him.

“You’re not ready just yet, but I am a patient man. I will take this body when I see it fit enough for royalty, a king. Don’t make me wait too long, Captain Hongjoong. My patience will only stretch for so long. And remember-” He flicked his clawed hand, the water swirling around Hongjoong in a cone around them. He looked around, noticing the lotus, lily, petunia, wisteria, snapdragon, rose, and asphodel petals littering the water, dotting the crystal clear angered waters with flecks of orange, purple, blue, white, and black.

The water surrounded them, the strength of the cone blowing Hongjoong’s bangs in a damp wind.

“When you inhale, I fill your lungs.”

The water parted for him and he stepped out, sending a look over his shoulder at Hongjoong before he smirked, letting out a low chuckle that sounded closer to a dark giggle. He suddenly stopped, his smile falling as he rolled his eyes and turned his head away from Hongjoong’s form, snapping his fingers once.

Instantly, the walls of water closed behind him, sweeping him up the petaled water and throwing him around violently. He was helpless, thrown left and right in the whirlpool as his vision went dark.

-x-

Hongjoong shot up with a start, his shirt sticking to him from the cold sweat that had broken out all over his body. He clutched his chest, gasping for breath.

Movement caught his eye from either side, and in moments, both Seonghwa and Mingi were awake, with the latter holding his shoulders firmly as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Cap, breathe. Look at me, hey." Mingi's usually bubbly and light hearted voice was now uncharacteristically firm as he rubbed Hongjoong’s shoulders with his thumbs. Seonghwa pressed a cool hand to Hongjoong’s damp forehead before sweeping his chestnut colored hair back, his touch gentle and loving as Mingi continued speaking.

"Breathe. Deep breathe in, hold it. Then let it out."

Hongjoong’s eyes widened at the thought, remembering the low threat his 'other' side gave him.

"When you inhale, I fill your lungs."

His chest heaved as he began to hyperventilate, but Mingi pulled him closer, settling the smaller pirate in his lap. Seonghwa hesitated to scoot closer, but followed the younger man's movements when Mingi nodded at him over Hongjoong’s shoulder.

Mingi put Hongjoong’s hand on his broad chest, over his lungs as he did the same. With his free hand, he gently rubbed Hongjoong’s cheek, his voice careful and quiet, as if talking to a wounded animal.

"Trust me, Captain. Whatever happened in that dream, we can discuss when you're calm. For now. Breathe with me. C'mon."

Hongjoong looked at him with unfocused eyes before he hesitantly followed Mingi's lead, slowly breathing with him.

Seonghwa kept close, gently blowing cool air on the two as he combed his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair. He swept the brunette's mullet back, gently braiding his hair as Mingi calmed Hongjoong down.

10 minutes and one well done French braid later, Hongjoong had his head on Mingi's shoulder, his eyes closed as he tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling in his mind. Mingi let him, hugging him tightly.

The tallest of the three wanted to ask, but he decided against it, feeling the underlying tremble in his lover’s arms.

Instead, Mingi pulled Hongjoong back between Seonghwa and himself, hugging him protectively against his chest as he tucked Hongjoong’s head under his chin.

“It’s okay to not be okay and have scary dreams sometimes, Captain. We’re with you.”

The cradle of sleep eluded Hongjoong for the rest of the night.

-x-

In the days after Hongjoong’s nightmare, the crew members noticed their captain becoming progressively more and more stressed out.

Despite his immortality, dark circles began to appear under his eyes from a lack of sleep. He ate less, spending copious amounts of time in the crow’s nest, staring out at the ocean.

Hours, just staring out into the ocean, as if searching for something.

Today, he climbed down, flagging Jongho over when the gunner emerged from the navigation room with Wooyoung in tow, talking about making more cannonballs for the crew to use in naval battles.

The captain jumping down startled the two men at first. Hongjoong dusted off his trousers, rolling his shoulders before asking Jongho-and surprisingly enough, Whiro-to fight him. Wooyoung’s lips parted in surprise at the mention of the cocky Māori entity, and by the way Jongho squared his jaw, he was caught off guard by the request, as well.

Caught off guard, but not unwilling.

Jongho peeled his shirt off, tossing it aside before he secured his long hair up in a bun, rolling his neck on his shoulders slightly. Whiro chuckled within his head, and Hongjoong and Wooyoung watched as the tā moko on Jongho’s arms lifted, the dark lines shifting behind the man as Whiro loomed over him in the form of a behemoth-like shadow with gleaming crimson eyes.

Jongho pulled out the completed charoite mere out from the pouch Mingi made him, his eyes going dark as Whiro’s shadow shifted above him.

“If you give me full control, I’ll show you something fun~”

“Show me you shutting the fuck up first, please.”

“Love you too. ”

“Ew.”

Jongho rolled his eyes and braced himself as Hongjoong ran at him, three bursts of aquatic magic flying from his hands as he closed the distance between him and the gunner. Whiro grinned, blocking the water while Jongho twisted his body, swinging for Hongjoong with the butt end of the weapon.

The captain grabbed his wrist, tossing him overhead before knocking him a few yards away with a powerful blast of water to the chest before he could fully land. Jongho landed in a heap, some of his hair falling loose of it’s bun as Hongjoong righted himself, eyeing him as he stood.

Jongho could hear and talk to Whiro. Yunho could hear and talk to Geb.

Maybe if he used his powers more competitively, he could coax out...whoever it was in his dreams.

As he pondered that, he missed Jongho pressing a palm to the deck, pulling his own shadow out of the ground before he slammed Hongjoong down hard. The captain coughed in surprise, rolling away as Whiro brought a fist down where he once was. The wood of the deck splintered.

“Hey! It’s a sparring match!” Jongho snapped as Hongjoong clenched his chest, sucking the air that was knocked out of him back into his lungs.

“Oh please. Look at the look in his eyes. He wants a real fight, I’ll give it to him.”

Jongho and Whiro began to bicker and Hongjoong slowly rose up, water swirling around his feet as he lost his patience. The wind knocked out of him from a single blow?

He wouldn’t find the answers he needed this way. He couldn’t find his true strength if he couldn’t take a hit.

He couldn’t protect his crew like this.

Wooyoung noticed the way scales began to slowly form over the skin of Hongjoong’s cheeks, glittering in the sun as a stormy look crossed his eyes. He glanced back and forth between Jongho and Hongjoong, opening his mouth to tell them to stop fighting when Hongjoong ran forward once more, the aquatic bursts of water coming in a furious barrage as he threw more and more at Jongho.

In an instant, Jongho’s warrior nature kicked in, crossing his arms over his chest as he used Whiro’s massive solid shadow to shield himself from the blasts. Hongjoong ran around Whiro’s form to try and get another hit in, but Jongho swung first, hitting him in the stomach with the butt end of the charoite mere before he slapped him away with a shadow.

Hongjoong tumbled, rolling to the edge of the deck, huffing slightly before he clicked his tongue in rage.

He’s the captain. He’s supposed to be the strongest. How can he lead and protect if he’s not strong?

Hongjoong’s nails dug into the wood as his chest rose and fell harshly, the thoughts swamping his mind making his blood boil.

He couldn’t be weak. The crew needed him to be strong. He had to be able to protect the ones he loved and he couldn’t do that if he could be tossed around so easily.  

-“Captain Jihyo must be proud”-

Wooyoung startled as Hongjoong let out an enraged scream, the Utopia rocking in the suddenly turbulent waters as the sky darkened. Rain fell from it as Hongjoong continued his wild barrage of attacks. Jongho squared his shoulders, unphased by the out of character demeanor of his captain.

Fight now, figure it out later, just as he’d be taught as a child.

Wooyoung, however, was terrified by the ever growing conflict, and he rushed to the captain’s quarters to grab Seonghwa to intervene.

“Excellent, Captain! I don’t know what’s come over you, but keep this energy up, this is fun~!” Whiro chuckled, raining down a hailstorm of punches as he overshadowed Jongho while he still fought Hongjoong from below.

Despite his emotional state, Hongjoong’s movements sharpened ever so slightly, dodging Whiro’s attacks with whips of water while he drew a cutlass, swinging. Jongho ducked under one of his strikes after sustaining a nasty gash from a well placed thrust to his arm. Seeing the opportunity, he lifted the rounded end of his mere charoite, striking just below his armpit with practiced ease.

The moment he heard a pop, followed by Hongjoong barking in pain, he swore.

Fuck, right, they were supposed to be sparring.

“ Pare! What the hell is going on up here?!”

Seonghwa’s voice cut into the tension of the moment as he stormed up to both of them, his brows knitted up in worry.

Jongho pulled Whiro in in an instant, ignoring his complaints as Seonghwa stopped to examine his gashed shoulder. Jongho smiled gently and put his hand over Seonghwa’s, gently pulling them away.

“I’m okay, really. It’s nothing that won’t heal in a day.”

The two of them looked over at Hongjoong as he held his arm, gripping it tight as he tried to reset it himself. Jongho’s eyebrows pulled up in worry as he approached his captain.

“Cap, I’m sorry. I get carried away when it comes to fighting, I still have to learn to tone it down when I’m sparring-”

Hongjoong hissed and finally popped his shoulder back into place, letting out a string of curses before he turned, forcing a smile despite the pain throbbing from the area.

“It’s okay, I asked you to fight me. Don’t hold back when I do, okay? It’s not like we won’t heal back.”

“I’d prefer not to hurt you.”

“Ditto.”

The two stared at each other for a pregnant pause, and Jongho knew there was more to it than that.

Seonghwa could tell, as well, if the way he grabbed Hongjoong’s wrist when he tried to leave was anything to go by.

“Ah, no you don’t, putois. Where are you going? I need you to explain what the hell that was about, you damn near scared the life out of Wooyoung.”

Hongjoong looked guiltily over Seonghwa’s shoulder at Wooyoung-who was now joined by San and Yeosang after the disturbance and sudden shift in the ship’s sailing startled them from their own respective activities.

“I...I’m sorry. I’m just working some stuff out, you know? I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” He smiled sheepishly at them and gently twisted his hand out of Seonghwa’s grip, disappearing into his quarters and staying there for the rest of the day.

‘I’m sorry I’m a weak captain.’

-x-

“Yunho, I want you to fight me.”

The doctor blinked in surprise, tilting his head at the quiet urgency in his captain’s voice. He set down the watering can he was holding, brows pulled together as he looked down at Hongjoong. There was a beat of silence before he spoke.

“Um...why, all of a sudden?”

“I need...to practice with my powers. We haven’t had a proper fight since the drake and wyverns, and I want to make sure I’m not rusty or anything. Always have to be prepared for the worst, right?”

A lie, and both of them knew it as such. Yunho had been approached by the boys before for sparring, it was something they did often, but the determined look in Hongjoong’s eyes betrayed that this was more than just practice. That, and the incident only a month prior with Jongho told him there was much more that went unsaid.

“Sure. Just let me finish watering my plants-”

Hongjoong lifted his hand, making a gentle mist fall over the plants in question, his eyes never leaving Yunho’s as he did so. When he was finished, he turned his back, heading out of the room without a word.

Yunho frowned and followed.

Minutes later, the crew members without powers had cleared the area, watching with wide eyes as Hongjoong barked at Yunho to not hold back.

Even the other immortal pirates were taken back by the bite in Hongjoong’s voice as a tidal wave formed behind him. Yunho pursed his lips, his now-blonde hair sticking to his head. His eyes narrowed as he got back up on his feet after he was knocked down by a strong wave of water, thick branches sprouting from the wood in the deck, swinging wildly at him.

Yunho swung his long legs at him, just barely missing kicking him in the jaw as Hongjoong arched his back, watching as Yunho’s heel whizzed past his forehead.

“Your partner appears to be having a hard time, doctor.”

“I know, Geb. I can’t figure out what it is.”

Hongjoong perked as the triangle around Yunho’s eye twinkled a bright color, followed by the doctor speaking to the source of his power. He grit his teeth, one of his electric blue eyes changing to a near neon green as he shot forward, throwing a punch that was easily blocked by the doctor.

“Why can he hear you, when I couldn’t?”

Yunho paused at the raw tone in Hongjoong’s voice as he muttered the question, glaring down at the deck before he put his hand down, the water around the deck falling into the sea. Hongjoong exhaled, closing his eyes to collect himself.

“....Yunho.”

Without needing any instruction from the Egyptian god, Yunho put a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, his brows knitted up together as he looked at him.

“Captain. Talk to me. First Jongho and Whiro, and now me and Geb. What’s wrong?”

Hongjoong grit his teeth, pouring his heart out and telling the doctor all about the dream. He hadn’t had any other incidents with the mysterious man or the underwater palace since the initial dream, but all the things he said on that evening had been plaguing him ever since.

Yunho pursed his lips, tapping his chin as he let Geb take enough control for him to talk without having to relay the information back and forth.

“Captain, if I may, wouldn’t it be easier if you talked this out with the one called Hyuna instead of keeping all of this inside of you? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you consider this crew to be as close to you as family, yes?”

Hongjoong bit his lip, looking around at the concerned looks at everyone who had gathered on the deck. He felt awash with shame before he looked down at the compass on his wrist. The stone twinkled in the sunlight, changing colors depending on the angle the light hit it from.

Hongjoong sighed before plucking a single crow’s feather from his belt. Before she left after the wyvern encounter, Hyuna had instructed them how they could summon her. It was as simple as pressing a black feather to one of their marks and calling her name.

Looking over the feather, Hongjoong pressed his lips into a tight line before he settled the feather against the alexandrite stone and took a breath.

“Hyuna.”

Suddenly, a whirlwind of feathers landed on the deck, with Hyuna clearly mid-motion, her box open. Her eyes grew as she took in the new environment, snapping the box closed before she cursed, stomping her foot in anger as she looked over at the pirates.

“Goddammit, I almost had that damn alicorn before you interrupted me! Do you even know how hard it is to find unicorns, let alone winged ones?!”

Hyuna paused when Dawn set a hand on her shoulder nodding at the serious expressions on the pirate's faces.

Hyuna picked up the energy all of them were giving out and hummed, tilting her head as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“So. I’m assuming it’s important, if you’ve called me. What is it?”

“I...had a dream. And I need to know whether or not the spirit that’s left inside of me has any chance of taking over.”

Hyuna’s face changed to a neutral one in an instant as she straightened up.

“...what?”

“Yunho can hear and work with Geb. Jongho can hear and work with Whiro….I hadn’t heard any of my spirits after the night you turned me when I was 19. It’s been two years...why can’t I hear them? What haven’t you told me? Geb and Whiro aren’t even demons, they're deities, it's about time you told me everything, isn’t it?”

He stared Hyuna down for a long time and she pressed her lips together, tapping her bottom lip with her knuckle before she exhaled.

“Fine. Allow me,” she put her hands on her hips as she began talking.

“Ages ago, it is told that the gods forged the first woman of the mortal world...in Greece, at least. Created from clay and gifted to the world below in order to fool and punish them for accepting the gift of stolen fire from Olympus. This woman knew nothing of her fate, knew nothing about the life they forged for her, knew nothing of the sort. She was taught to be beautiful, to be crafty, to be persistent and clever. Her name was Pandora.”

Hyuna paced the deck, speaking slowly as the men watched her. At the mention of the mythos, both Seonghwa and Yeosang perked, both of them having stumbled upon the Greco-Roman tale in the midst of their studies.

“Pandora was gifted a box, one she was told by the gods to never open. But the same curiosity they instilled in her led to her disobeying their instruction, and it is said she opened the box and let out ‘all the evil in the world’, slamming the lid closed on the last thing for humanity, hope. Apparently.”

She stopped in front of Hongjoong, looking him in the eyes. He straightened up and she kept talking.

“Forsaken by the gods that created her, Pandora called out to the sky, begging for someone, anyone to give her life meaning again, as the guilt was overwhelming. The gods made it known she was the reason for the world’s misfortune, that their very creation and the very gift they gave was tainted. So she cried to the sky for protection and guidance. Down fell a single crow’s feather, and before her appeared a goddess not from her lands, but one attuned enough to hear her voice. That was the Phantom Queen, The Morrigan.”

“A goddess of war, of birth, of death...the whole shebang. She agreed to give Pandora another chance to thrive and be free, a chance to actually receive gifts from the gods, using the very cursed box they gave her. So close together did the two work, they’d all but become one entity. This, is the first contract that was made.” she brushed her fingers idly over the box she had since strapped back to her hip.

Realization began to dawn on Hongjoong’s face as his lips parted. A sea breeze blew Hyuna’s hair across her face before she lifted her head, humming.

“Hyuna, are you..Pandora? Or...The Morrigan?”

“That is an answer I’ve lost long ago. All I know is the woman that stands before you is called Hyuna.”

Hongjoong frowned and Hyuna sauntered closer to him, placing an arm over his shoulder before she leaned into his space, her face right near his. Hongjoong tensed, but made no movements. Hyuna looked past him, speaking in a low tone.

“I travel the world, collecting all the power that interests me. I challenge gods and goddesses, when they lose, I receive a portion of their power, or a gift of power equivalent. I trap lesser spirits, like Yeosang’s kitsune, or Wooyoung’s banshee, and I collect them. A small few have received any gifts from my box, and you are one of them. I have never had any spirits talk back to me once I’ve secured them, so this is a new experience, as well.”

“You told me you were a demon. That I was a demon.”

“Do you understand most of what I’ve just told you?”

“....”

“It’s simpler to call myself a demon to someone who’s not well versed with gods and magic. Though, I will admit I do have some demons I’ve gotten in this box, but I suppose the more accurate name for what we are is immortals...because not all of you have fragmented pieces of gods in you.”

Whiro stirred from Jongho’s arms, lifting up despite the younger man’s narrowed eyes. He solidified into a near mirror image of Jongho, sans the tā moko on his face, his blonde hair, and the gleaming red eyes. Hyuna didn’t turn around, but she closed her eyes and hummed as he spoke.

“You steal what’s not yours in your greedy, conceited quest.”

“Everyone agrees to my challenge beforehand. Even you. The fact that you lost and refuse to accept defeat is as irrelevant as your grudge. It is only by the graces of the boy you’re attached to that you’re even still here to talk shit to me. You lost against Tāne, you lost against me, and you lost against the boy. Do me a favor and be silent, will you?”

Whiro flared in anger, the tā moko thickening and nearly turning his body completely black, but Jongho narrowed his eyes, keeping him in check. Hyuna didn’t flinch as she continued talking, looking Hongjoong in the eyes.

“So. Who are you?”

Hongjoong opened his mouth, but Hyuna shushed him, pressing her finger to his lips.

“Not you, Captain. The one inside of you.”

Hongjoong closed his mouth and Hyuna moved her finger from his lips, tilting her head to the side.

“So, who is it? Which one of you is giving my captain strife? I couldn’t for the life of me begin to guess who it could be, since none of you had the backbone to pull this when you were within the box or in me, so...which one of you is it?” She tilted her head to the other side, pressing her lips together when Hongjoong showed no visible signs of change.

Her painted nails wrapped around his wrists, and she pulled his hands up until they were around her throat, ignoring the startled look in his eyes as she spoke.

“If getting revenge on me for your loss is what you want, you’re more than welcome to take the opportunity. You want to make me suffer? Why wait for the run around with our captain? Come out and hurt me.”

Hongjoong’s fingers didn’t do as much as flex against her neck and she tutted, closing them more firmly around her throat as she kept talking, holding them with her own hands.

“Your hands are around my throat, waterboy. I suggest you take this opportunity while you can, because you’ll never get another chance like this again. If you’re going to try and kill me, do it.”

Hongjoong shook his head and brushed her hands away, lowering his own. There wasn’t as much as a stir inside of him at the antagonizing words from Hyuna. The woman pursed her lips before she shrugged, turning her back completely to him.

Leaving herself exposed and vulnerable.

“Even I noticed the way your body begins to shimmer with scales when you reach a level of emotional duress. The power you showed while in that cave with those wyverns and the drake was quite impressive.” a fog began to appear on the wood of the deck at their feet as Hyuna spoke.

“The scales seem to come out when you feel like your back is against a wall, so let’s start pushing, shall we?”

From behind them, Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward. Instantly, Dawn was in front of him, extending an arm to keep him from walking forward. He didn’t look at the prince, instead keeping his eyes on Hyuna as the fog thickened.

“This is going to get ugly.”

Seonghwa’s steel eyes narrowed threateningly.

“Move, or I’ll go through you.”

Dawn sent him a flat look, but the air around them got foggier, a cloud of chilled air making it hard for them to see. Dawn sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Here we go again.” He muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets before the fog thickened to the point where they couldn’t see anything in front of them. Mingi inhaled deeply and blew a strong gust, blowing the fog away.

When he did, all of them-save for Dawn and Hyuna-gasped.

They were no longer on the Utopia, and now stood in a lush green field. There was a cliff not too far behind them that had roaring waters crashing against the side of it as the wind blew around them.

“What- where are we?!” Hongjoong looked around, his brows furrowed as he looked back at Hyuna as she slid her shawl off of her shoulders, letting the wind carry it away carelessly before she put her hand on her hip. She looked at the captain from head to toe before she shook her head.

“Don’t worry. I’ll put you back once we’re done here. You clearly need someone to be the bad guy so you can use your full power without holding back, right?” She spoke as if it was the simplest thing in the world. She lifted her hands, and various glaives appeared in the air around the other immortal pirates and Dawn.

Hongjoong tensed in an instant, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t like that tone.

“Hyuna-”

“If that's what it takes, fine."

A wicked smile stretched across her lips.

"I’ m t h e b a d g u y n o w.”

In an instant, with the flick of a wrist, the glaives came down, striking his pirate lovers without mercy.

Where they fell was deliberate and precise. The first was a strike that severed Seonghwa’s right hand, the blue celestite gemstone in his compass falling as he let out a ghoulish scream. A raven swooped down from the sky above, catching the stone and depositing it into Hyuna’s open palm as she stared at Hongjoong, the same treatment happening to the other boys.

It only took a minute, but soon there were 7 colorful stones in her palm as she looked at Hongjoong, her expression neutral while his crew members writhed in pain behind her. Each glaive struck them where their compasses were, rendering the men critically injured in some cases.

She tucked the gemstones into her pocket and cracked her knuckles, watching the swirl of emotions cross over Hongjoong’s face. The sky darkened and she hummed as heavy rain began to fall around them.

“Make your move, Cap-”

An explosion of movement cut her off as Hongjoong shot forward with an enraged cry, the rain having soaked through both his and her clothes in an instant as he lunged for her, his eyes shining with a luminescent jade color.

Hyuna threw her hand up, blocking the water-propelled strike before she snatched his wrist forward, throwing him hard over her shoulder.

A few blasts of water had Hongjoong landing on his feet before he ran for her once more, the rain falling heavier as he made whips of water to strike her as he approached.

Hyuna’s lips quirked as she back stepped, skipping away from the strikes while she deflected more and more with her hands. An iridescent light gleamed over her fingers as she touched the blasts of water, throwing them back at Hongjoong.

The enraged captain took the strikes without slowing, closing the distance between them as scales stretched over his cheeks, neck, and hands.

Hyuna watched him closely, taking the offensive and running towards him herself. The iridescent magic grew, forming blades that she threw at Hongjoong, a wide smile spreading on her face.

“It’s been a while since someone’s given me a worthwhile fight~ Don’t let me down, or I’ll go back and keep ripping your crew to itty bitty pieces~! You want to fight me, spirit? Here I am!” She laughed, watching him side step a few blades before barking in pain when one dug into his thigh.

He collapsed, rolling a few feet away as Hyuna tossed him aside with a blast of magic. She pursed her lips, slowing to a trot, and then a walk as she watched him, approaching slowly with a glaive in her hand.

“Eh? Is that all?”

She stepped over him, raising the glaive for a strike when he snapped his head up, a surge of water hitting her like a stone to the stomach, knocking her back. She rolled, scraping her arms on the rocks below before she came to a stop. The rainfall came down harder, to the point it was painful as Hyuna narrowed her eyes through the torrential downpour, trying to see through the curtain of rain.

Hongjoong stood up, ignoring the blood running down past his thigh and soaking into his pants to add to the rain water. Hyuna pushed her soaked raven locks back, her eyes twinkling in pure delight as Hongjoong walked closer, the rain stopping around him before it formed a large dragon behind him.

-. . . -

“What the hell is going on?!”

Dawn sighed as he looked out at the field, standing fairly close to the fight between Hyuna and Hongjoong.

Behind him, the other members of the crew, in one piece.

“Hyuna is casting an illusion to hold them in place there. Hence, why all of you are unharmed.” He responded, watching with his arms crossed over his chest as Hongjoong and Hyuna stood across from each other.

“We should stop them, immediately.” Yunho frowned, and the twinkle from the triangle over his eye was silent agreement from Geb. The elder god felt a growing sense of unease the more he watched Hongjoong lose the powerful, yet controlled way he usually fought.

“I can’t do that.” was the flat response from Dawn. The pirates flared from behind him and he raised a finger to silence their combined protests.

“It’s out of my control. As long as those two remain focused on keeping the illusion up, there’s nothing we can do.” He informed them, pointing to the two women sitting on a rock not too far from them. One was old and haggard, looking down into a crystal ball that had a swirling-fog colored mist into it. The other was a young girl in her teens, her eyes set on the fight before them. There was a barrier dividing them from the pair.

Both of them looked like Hyuna, just at different stages of life.

“The Phantom Queen is a triple goddess. Those two are a part of Hyuna. She’s using illusions from those two to hold us here. In actuality, we’re still on the Utopia. Though…those two can feel everything. Her magic is very powerful. There’s nothing I can do. Nothing you can do, either.”

He didn’t look too enthusiastic about it, either, as his nails dug into his arm as he watched the two of them. The moment Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak, all of the boys snapped their attention back to the fight before them.

-. . .-

“What...did you do?”

The first words he spoke since she struck his crew members, and Hyuna would be lying if she said it didn’t send a small chill running down her back. Her hair stood on end as she stood upright, a whirlwind of black feathers swirling around her.

“I took the powers back. Can’t deal with any more strife if I snatch it all away, right? If there’s anything I learned, it’s that not all gifts are to be taken. If you cannot handle the gift you’ve been given, I’ll snatch it all away. You know why? Because I have power to do so. You don’t like it? Stop me. Come out of the captain and fight me.” she still spoke to the apparent entity that was residing inside of Hongjoong and that made his temper flare as his lip curled up.

“You...you hurt them to try and get to the one I had a dream about?”

Hyuna shrugged her shoulders.

“What? Like it was hard?”

Apparently that was the wrong answer, as Hongjoong began to tremble with rage, disappearing before her eyes in a blur of water.

Hyuna blinked in surprise before she noticed motion to her left, looking over with enough time to block a strike from him using a shield of crow and raven feathers.

They exploded outwards and she grit her teeth, the feathers as sharp as blades as they cut into his cheeks and clothing. Hongjoong seemed unphased as he lifted his hand, a wave of water forming and slamming into Hyuna, knocking her viciously to the side. She covered her mouth, keeping the water from entering as Hongjoong stood below, panting like an animal as he held his hand out before him.

She kept her eyes open in the murky water and after her lungs began to scream for oxygen, she shot out of the water like a bullet, her nails growing to claws as she landed on Hongjoong. Her grip was tight as she grabbed him by the throat, dragging him across the ground as she flew over it, large wings made from black feathers propelling her through the heavy rain.

Hongjoong grabbed her wrists and twisted free, biting down on her hand before he kicked off of her, landing hard on the ground and rolling to his feet before the two continued their magical assault on one another.

A swirl of dragons emerged from the rain and thunder began to rumble in the distance as the two stared at each other.

Hongjoong looked up, the glow of his eyes being the only thing Hyuna could make out in the dark curtain of rain. Her jaw locked as she rolled her neck on her shoulders, spreading the coal wings on her back before she disappeared in a shockwave, the gust disturbing the greenery below Hongjoong’s feet as she lunged for him.

He cursed and moved to run from the barrage of razor-sharp feathers, throwing up a wall of water to slow them before he turned to try and catch Hyuna in another aquatic tempest. She appeared before him in a flash, kicking him in the chest before she grabbed his throat again, throwing him away from her with ease.

Hongjoong rolled once more, his clothing in tatters as he landed on his back, stilling. Hyuna observed him before she gently lowered herself to her feet, watching his body. When he didn’t move, she exhaled, summoning her staff and walking over to him, more cautiously than before.

“The most precious gems are forged under pressure, Captain. It truly has been a while since I’ve had a fight of this caliber. It’s about time it ended, though.” She stood over his body, the fog from before appearing at her feet as she moved over him.

“Eheheh.”

His eyes snapped open as he reached forward, striking her in the chest with a blade of water. She recoiled, dropping her staff as he pushed himself to his feet, laughing slowly as he looked up at her through his soaked bangs.

“You don’t get to hurt my loved ones and act like nothing happened.”

Hyuna opened her mouth to tell him of the illusion she had created in order to try and draw his spirit out, but it was cut off by Hongjoong flinging his hand to the left, a dragon of water biting into her midsection and knocking her away roughly. He walked closer to her, like a conductor of the water around him, moving his hand to and fro as more dragons attacked her.

A woman of short patience already, Hyuna’s let out an annoyed shout, throwing her hand forward, hitting him in the chest with a blast of powerful dark magic. The thunder began to rumble louder around them as the sky flashed white, the competitive nature in Hyuna making her forget all about cutting the fight,

It had been a while since someone stood a chance against her in a fight and gave her a run for her money.

There wasn’t any harm in going a few more blows, right?

That was all it took in her mind to continue the fight, the black wings fracturing and falling apart. The inky feathers lifted once more, spinning before they flew at Hongjoong. He didn’t seem phased, rushing at her with a whip of water, slapping away whatever he could and taking some slices to his body.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he and her exchanged powerful bursts of magic.

Neither of them held back, the violent shockwaves even shaking the very ground Dawn and the others stood on a few yards away.

The two bounced off of each other like rubber balls in the rain, a blow here, a bark of rage and pain there, neither of them backing down as they attacked each other.

“Tell me your name!” Hyuna urged, backing away from a dragon that came to her left and ducking under one that tried to strike her from the back. Hongjoong grit his teeth, ignoring the demand as he stepped forward.

A flash of lightning struck not too far from him and Hyuna’s eyes darkened.

“I asked for your name.”

“Do you think I’m in the mood for conversation?” the tone was cold, unafraid of the unspoken threat of lightning strikes. Hyuna’s lips quirked as she laughed ever so slightly.

“This will end when you tell me your name. I need to make sure this is the captain and not the boogey man or whatever else the fuck is giving you nightmares.”

Hongjoong laughed, and the sound was haunting as he approached her again.

“I don’t think you understand just the position you’ve put yourself in. So allow me to state it in layman’s terms, I’m pissed off.”

Hyuna’s hand twitched, a wild look crossed her face as she floated ever so slightly off of the ground, the air crackling around her.

“Well, hello mr. ‘pissed off’, I’m Hyuna, and that’s not the answer I was looking for.”

The two went at it once more, craters appearing in the ground from the amount of power being thrown around. The lightning fell more frequently, each one getting closer and closer to striking Hongjoong.

He seemed unbothered, weaving in and out of the strikes like an animal, running through the woods. The pillars of lightning connected earth and sky, all while Hongjoong threw more water dragons in Hyuna’s direction. He remained unbothered by the ones she deflected, his body tight with tension.

-. . .-

Dawn remained unphased when Yeosang glared at him, snatching him by the collar and bringing their faces together. The normally shy and mild mannered cook looked as panicked as he was enraged. growling at Dawn, his tails and ears out and bristled in anger.

“You’re going to stop this immediately or I’ll burn you to a crisp myself.”

Dawn pinched the bridge of his nose at the threat, having been told several times-to no avail-to stop the fight.

“For the last time-”

“Let them fight.”  

To everyone’s surprise, Whiro’s voice caught their attention. Once again, he was hovering out of Jongho’s shadow, his arms crossed and his features smug as he watched the two of them fight. Jongho was about to tell him off and force him back onto his skin, but he paused when the fractured god sent him a small ‘trust me’ look.

Oh. That was new.

He closed his mouth and let Whiro speak, keeping a neutral mask on to disguise his genuine curiosity.

“Look at her. This is the first time I’ve seen her on the defensive as much as she has been. She hides it well with the flashy bravado and showy abilities, but even a child can see she��s getting desperate.”

Dawn stiffened, looking back at the fight to see Hyuna’s smile faltering as she struggled to keep up with Hongjoong’s seemingly never ending attacks. A few of them caught her off guard, with dragons biting into her midsection and throwing her hard to the ground before she was swirled up in a whirlpool, tossed around by the very man she had granted the powers.

Dawn pursed his lips. Whiro smirked.

“Even the lightning is a sign of her desperation. Look at the girls over there.” he pointed his thumb over in the direction of the other two Hyunas, finding the younger one looking perplexed, while the older one clutched her crystal ball hard, searching the inside as if even she couldn’t see the contents.

They watched Hyuna throw herself out of the whirlpool, landing on the ground before she looked up, enraged. The sky lit up in a blinding white. The crystal ball in front of the old Hyuna cracked and shattered.

The sound of the thunderclap startled all of the men except Whiro as Hongjoong was struck directly, the ground singeing from the force of the lightning Hyuna brought down on him.

Jongho’s lips parted in horror as he moved to join the others, but Whiro tugged at his sleeve, drawing his attention as he quietly talked to him in his mind, much like how Geb did with Yunho.

“The short stack is a lot more resilient than you think.”

Jongho looked over once they were no longer blinded, his eyes wide as he saw Hongjoong still on his feet, his hair smoking and his clothing torn. He looked up and a cold chill ran through all their spines at the dark fury in his eyes.

Whiro chuckled.

“This is gonna be fun to watch.”

-. . . -

Hyuna stepped away, her eyes wide as Hongjoong raised his hand, a large electrified dragon rising from behind him. Her lips parted in shock at the fact he was still standing at all, let alone still using his powers so strongly.

“W-what…?”

“My name.”

She looked away from the large water dragon down to Hongjoong’s face, unconsciously stepping away from him as the dragon split into two more, just as large inside, holding onto electricity that she could see spark and pulse through them as they roared. Hongjoong took a single step forward, and the ground cratered below him as he did so, the jade in his eyes seemingly brighter after he was struck by her lightning.

Hyuna tensed.

“Hold on...wait a second, Captain-”

“My name. It’s Kim Hongjoong. And you’ve made a grave mistake bringing my boys into this.”

The simmering rage in his voice struck a chord with Hyuna, and for the first time since the altercation started, the woman showed an emotion other than wild joy and smugness;

Pure terror.

Hongjoong flicked his wrist, the three dragons flew at her. Hyuna fell onto her ass and panicked, knowing the blow would not be pleasant, and given the captain’s rage and tenacity, most likely wouldn’t stop just there.

She may have poked the bear a bit too much.

“D-Dawn-!”

She closed her eyes, throwing her hands up over her face to try and brace for the blow.

The world exploded around her in an instant, water blowing harshly at either side of her. The sound of electricity was nearly deafening. She shook, hesitantly opening her eyes after a moment to find Dawn hovering over her, his arms around her body and his back towards where the blow came from.

In front of them, was a massive monolith that took the brunt of the attack.

It was a thick stone, wrapped in a coating of ice that chipped off from the blow, alongside an outer layer of metal that smouldered from the lightning like the ground did. Thick ropes of darkness kept all of them sturdy, and Hyuna looked up to see Yunho standing with his palm flat against the back of the monolith, Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Jongho clinging to him tightly. The water from the dragons dispersed, flying through the air and soaking their clothing and bangs as they stayed where they were, just in case there was another attempt.

Across from them, Hongjoong was wrapped up in an embrace, his face tucked into San’s neck while Yeosang and Mingi sandwiched him in.

“We’re okay. Breathe, Cap. we’re okay.”

It took a moment, but slowly the rain began to lighten to a light drizzle. He looked up at them, his eyes slowly going from jade, to electric blue, to their normal brown color. He cupped San’s face, checking his cheeks and pressing his hand to his chest.

He felt around until he felt the stone from his compass, just slightly under his clothing. Mingi and Yeosang let him do the same to them before he relaxed, the rain stopping completely as he showered them all with kisses.

“Oh my gods, I...I thought she hurt you for real-”

“It was an illusion, don’t worry.” Mingi smiled cheerfully, though there was a small flash of annoyance and anger in his eyes that only San and Yeosang caught, as their Captain was busy burying his face into the tall man’s shoulder, nuzzling him like a puppy that just found its owner after a long journey.

Back with Hyuna, the four men that blocked the blow stood to their full height as the  illusion began to fade around them completely. The destroyed clifftop gave way to Utopia’s familiar deck, and as the four ran over to embrace their worn out captain, Dawn kept his eyes on his own lover.

His lips pursed as he noticed the faraway, shell-shocked look still on her face.

A single drop of moisture ran down from her cheek, collecting on her chin before it dove off, splashing to her slightly trembling thighs, staring in front of her, over his shoulder.

“You idiot.” he sighed as he pulled her into his own embrace, burying his nose in her hair and holding her close.

Hyuna set trembling hands around his frame and continued to stare at the pirates before her.

-x-

“So, because of the intense sudden, and constant release of epinephrine, and the strain and trauma from the fight, the latissimus dorsi, rectus abdominis, gluteal sulcus, and bicep femoris all have intense tears to them."

Yunho hummed, the triangle over his eye fading as he finished looking Hongjoong over. The silence in the room was telling, and he lifted his head, finding seven pairs of absolutely lost eyes on him.

"Yunho, please, I can barely read as it is, you expect me to know what any of that means by name?" Mingi huffed, his brows pinching up together. Yunho snorted slightly before he cleared his throat.

“Hongjoong released so much adrenaline during that fight with Hyuna, and extended strain on his body from the adrenaline release, taking attacks from her, and using so much of his power has left him with a series of muscle tears. Most notably, along his back, abdominal region, the small junction at the underside of his buttocks where his thigh begins, and also he pulled a couple muscles in his hamstring areas. So...he’ll be bedridden for a few days until he can heal up. Thankfully, because of our powers, it shouldn’t take him more than a few days. Had he have still been a mortal, he would be immoble for weeks, probably.”

The boys looked down at Hongjoong as he rested in the bed. After all the blood had settled and his heart rate slowed down from the altercation, the captain found walking to be a painful experience. His muscles locked up and after some back and forth with Yunho, he was banished to bed rest until he felt better.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

It did little to reassure them, but Yunho had all but pushed all of them out, telling them all they needed to get their rest as well and that he would stay up tirelessly making sure Hongjoong wasn’t in any form of discomfort.

As they walked out and separated, San stayed beside Seonghwa and Yeosang, noticing the two ex princes exchange a look before they walked out of Yunho’s room. There was a spark of an emotion San had only seen in Seonghwa’s eyes when he went into ‘military prince’ mode, but he would admit he was a bit startled to see Yeosang had that same look of restrained rage in his eyes.

So he followed them, kissing Wooyoung on the cheek and telling him to head back with Mingi and Jongho first. The smaller of the two men rubbed his eye, smiling at him before he nodded and walked on with the men in question.

As San appeared beside Seonghwa and Yeosang, both of them sent him a small look, but neither made any move to tell him to leave.

They walked in silence until they came up from below the deck, finding the unspoken person in question; Hyuna.

She had an arm wrapped around Dawn’s shoulder, speaking in a language even Seonghwa didn’t know as she limped. He responded, his brows pinched together in concern before he shook his head, pulling out a single, coal-colored feather.

“Hold.”

Seonghwa’s voice was chilling as he stopped in front of them, his arms crossed over his chest. Yeosang and San stood at either side of him. Hyuna rose her head, her onyx black hair being braided back into a French braid crown. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, cold steel staring back into unbothered hazel.

“Our captain is bed ridden because of your games. Do you really not know anything about the power you frivolously give people? If violence is how you choose to solve your problems, I’ll be more than happy to take his place next time. I have more than I few things I’d like to get off my chest with you, you distrustful-”

Hyuna rose her finger, shushing the angered prince casually.

“Let’s cut this rant short and get to the point. I’m not here to please you. You can hate me, distrust me, the like. The fact of the matter is, you’re alive because of me, are you not? Did your captain not use the very power I gave you to save you and keep you alive? What about you, little one?” She looked at San, who leered at her, but she was unbothered, despite the displeased settle in Dawn’s jaw.

If a fight broke out, there was no way she’d be able to fight. He’d have to take all three of the men.

Despite this, she continued.

“Your silence is telling. You may not like my methods, but they worked, did they not? Now, either threaten me properly, or move aside. I have other business to tend to.”

Seonghwa flared in anger, but surprisingly, it was Yeosang that pushed him aside, standing before Hyuna, his eyes glowing a strong tiger orange color. She didn’t flinch, but he spoke anyway, the anger making his lisp more prominent.

“Your pseudo confidence has been, and will continue to be your downfall. You may have given him some power, and that may have led to all of us being together, but the very power you gave him almost broke every bone in your body because you’re so confident that you cannot be taken down. You can say whatever you want to us in order to make yourself feel like you’re some big bad woman in control, but the fact of the matter is I can see through you. Having lived with my sisters and mother all through my life, I can say with confidence that I can see through your bullshit. Out there on that illusion field you created, you were just a scared little girl, and had we not have stepped in, who knows what Hongjoong would have done to you.”

Hyuna inhaled sharply and clenched her teeth and Dawn stepped in front of her, his gaze neutral, but Yeosang could tell by the purple gleam to them, he would fight if it came to it.

“We’re leaving.”

There was a finality in his voice as he bent down, picking Hyuna up in a piggyback position, walking past the three pirates.

Hyuna tucked her head into his shoulder and didn’t say a word to them as the two of them disappeared in a flurry of feathers and fog.

The three men stayed where they were before San looked over at Yeosang. The cook rubbed his arm, his lips pursed as a conflicted look crossed his face.

“Sorry, Hwa...I talked over you and-”

Seonghwa lifted his chin, pressing a kiss to his lips before he smiled lazily.

“I couldn’t have said any of that better myself, baby. Come, we should get some rest. Today has been a day, for sure.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair and San tossed his arms over the two of them.

“I call the middle.”

“Captain's quarters?”

“Someone has to keep the sheets warm.”

The three of them walked off to the quarters, some of the tension leaving their shoulders.

-x1 week later-

“I want you to take over the title of Captain for a month.”

Seonghwa blinked.

Once, twice.

“Pardon?”

Hongjoong ran his hand through his mullet, his eyes out on the ocean as he spoke, his voice carrying off with the wind.

“I feel out of touch with my own crew. I hate how tense I’ve been, and I’m trying to fix it. My mom...my mom once, when she got in a big blowout argument with Daniel, she stepped down as captain for a month. She worked with the crew, did the hard labor to reacquaint herself with her family, and said that if we’d still take her as captain when the month was up, if she’d proven herself as a reliable worker and Daniel didn’t mind switching back, she would be capitan again.”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, opening them to reject, when he saw the adamant look in Hongjoong’s eyes. Hesitantly, he nodded, straightening his back. Hongjoong smiled gratefully, pushing away from the taffrail and giving him Jihyo’s compass.

“Thank you, Hwa. I’ll be going to help Mingi and the others with the cargo, then. Let me know if you need me to do anything...Capitan.”

Hongjoong kissed him, the wind ruffling their clothes before he went to leave, jogging to greet Sana and Momo as they waited across the deck.

“Aye, lad, chosen to get back to your roots, huh? Well, don’t think we’ll go easy on ya!” Sana slapped him in the back and nodded towards the hold and Hongjoong laughed, following them under. Momo glanced back and forth between them before running over to Seonghwa.

“Don’t worry about him, lad. He needs this for a bit. You’re familiar with leading, this month should be a no brainer. Just leave Cap’n to us and we’ll have him back to his normal self in no time.” She smiled at him and winked before she ran back to Hongjoong and Sana.

Seonghwa watched them before he closed his eyes.

For the first time in his life, the prince didn’t feel as qualified to lead as the person before him.

-x2 Weeks Laterx-

“You’re stressed.”

Seonghwa looked up, a pair of glasses perched on his nose, his leg crossed over the other as he bounced and bobbed his foot, surveying the reports of the cargo and maps in front of him.

Yunho greeted him, his hands in his pockets as he stepped into the Captain’s quarters. Hongjoong had slept in the hold for the past week or so, sharing quarters with the other crew members, or Mingi and Jongho on days the two weren't sharing quarters with the others. That often left Seonghwa to his own devices as they sailed.

Seonghwa watched him close the door, settling the papers down on the desk.

“I just- I still don’t understand, I suppose? He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s not a matter of right and wrong. It’s because of his sense of leadership.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together as Yuho spoke, watching the taller man peek out of the widow of the quarters.

In the deck below was Hongjoong, his shirt long gone as he hefted up a barrel full of something. Despite his size and stature, Hongjoong was a strong man and he followed close behind Mingi, obeying his orders without hesitation as the boatswain told him where to put the barrel below the deck.

Yunho pulled the curtain over the window once more and looked over at Seonghwa, sighing lightly at the perplexed look on his face.

He crossed the distance between the two of them, pressing his palms flat against the desk and leaning into Seonghwa’s space.

“He’s been showing a bit of...less than great leadership qualities lately, at least in his opinion. Making us fight him, making us worry about him after the fight-” Seonghwa’s nostrils flared slightly, but Yunho simply rose a finger to calm him before he even started.

“In Hongjoong’s mind, he needs to get back to his ‘normal’ self. Now that he’s all but decided the dream was nothing, he feels he needs to redeem himself and make it up to the others for how he’s been acting. To be a proper leader, is to know when you’ve grown out of touch with those who follow your lead.”

Seonghwa looked away from him, still looking conflicted. A small smile crossed Yunho’s face and he leaned in even more, his breath ghosting over Seonghwa’s neck.

“Right now, my current captain is stressed out. In my expert opinion, I think I’m the perfect one qualified to help you...destress.”

Seonghwa arched a blonde brow, his lips pressed together as he fought the urge to smirk at the clear flirtations.

“I didn’t know you were qualified for psychological aide, as well, doctor.”

“For you and the others, I like to think I’m a well rounded professional.”

The two stared at each other for a beat of silence before Seonghwa laced his long fingers into Yunho’s chocolate hair, pulling him down roughly for a kiss.

The normally neat blonde didn’t bat a lash as Yunho swiped the papers off the table, keeping their lips sealed in a sloppy kiss.

Large hands trailed underneath worn clothing, and in a matter of minutes, Seonghwa was naked, his cheeks flushed as two vines wrapped around his thighs, spreading them lewdly as Yunho lapped at his cock. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he felt the warmth of Yunho’s mouth engulf his cock.

He moved to buck his hips upwards, but the vines tightened around his thighs, keeping him still as Yunho messily bobbed his head, drool running down his chin the harder Seonghwa’s cock got in his mouth.

“Y-Yunho-”

He arched his back off of the desk, his eyelids fluttering as he felt more vines wrap around his frame, circling around his wrists and keeping them bound above his head. Yunho popped his lips off, rolling his tongue flat along his cockhead, catching some of his precum on his tongue.

“What would my captain like me to do?” He teased, his voice a low husk as he ran his palm over Seonghwa’s balls.

The prince bit his lip, looking him in the eyes before he let his head fall back against the oak of the desk, leaving his body fully presented for Yunho.

“Do whatever you want.”

There was a small needy tone in his voice, and a smile crossed Yunho’s face as he kissed up Seonghwa’s lean body until he reached his lips, his eyes dark as he tilted his head.

“Is that what you want, Captain Seonghwa? To not be in control anymore?”

Seonghwa shuddered, moving to reach for Yunho before he realized his hands were still bound. Yunho cut him some slack, loosening the vines just enough for Seonghwa to wrap his arms around his neck, moaning into his lips as he pressed their heated bodies together.

“Don’t call me captain, just...just Hwa, please.”

Yunho didn’t question it, nodding once and moving his lips to his neck, nibbling and kissing at his pulse. He pulled Seonghwa closer to the edge of the table, running his fingers between his legs, rolling them over Seonghwa’s pucker.

“Tell me what you want, Seonghwa.”

“I want you to fuck me, Yunho.”

Yunho kissed him again, running his hand through Seonghwa’s hair before he pulled roughly. Seonghwa let out a sharp gasp and Yunho made him look him in the eyes.

“I have to prep you. Do you mind?” He tilted his head and Seonghwa felt something slick against his hole, he looked down once he smelled something sweet, finding Yunho had summoned a thinner vine. It had a bead of nectar dribbling from the tip of it and the ex prince looked up at Yunho curiously.

“Is...it safe?”

“Seonghwa, I’m a doctor, do you think I would put something inside of you I hadn’t confirmed was safe first?”

“Yunho, what are you doing in your room when we’re not around?” He chuckled before he shifted, nodding. Yunho kissed the corner of his lips as the vine slicked up Seonghwa’s entrance. He let Seonghwa’s hands go, smiling at the way the older man sealed their lips together as the nectar coated vine pushed into him.

Yunho swallowed down the moan that the action caused, pushing the vine in and out of Seonghwa, gently making it thicker over time to properly stretch Seonghwa open.

In a matter of minutes, Seonghwa’s back arched up again, a whimper leaving his lips as the vine brushed against his prostate.

“Yunho-!”

“Such a slut, Seonghwa.” the words slipped out of Yunho’s mouth before he could catch himself, and part of him was ready to reel it back in and apologize for the degradation, but Seonghwa clenched around the vine inside of him, a shudder racking his body.

Oh?

Yunho tilted his head, a small smile falling on his face as he stared at Seonghwa with half lidded eyes as he slid the vine in and out of him faster.

“Look at you. I bet you’d cum just like this, whimpering all splayed out on this table, fucked out and by my vines without ever getting my cock, huh?”

Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered as the tip of the vines continued to stroke his prostate, sweat rolling down his abdomen and temple as Yunho caught his chin, making him look up at him despite his eyes rolling back.

“Such a selfish man, Seonghwa~ Don’t I get to have fun too?”

Seonghwa looked up at him, running his tongue over his lips before he laughed lowly.

“If you want something wet to fuck so bad, my mouth is avalible.”

Yunho’s eyes darkened and he picked Seonghwa up effortlessly, caressing his cheek before planting a firm slap to it, smiling coyly at the gasp that left his lips.

“If my little Seonghwa wants me to be rough with him, I can happily oblige.” he cooed, settling Seonghwa on his hands and knees, the vine still curling and thrusting in and out of him as Yunho fisted his hand into his hair, thrusting into his mouth the moment Seonghwa sent him a heated look and stuck his tongue out, running it up the length of his cock.

He wasted no time, thrusting into Seonghwa’s mouth and matching the pace of his vine, keeping his grip firm in Seonghwa’s hair. Seonghwa closed his eyes, letting himself go as Yunho stuffed both of his holes.

It wasn’t often the ex prince relinquished so much control, but now he felt euphoric as Yunho slid his sizeable cock past his lips, pulling out before he could gag around him, but going just a bit deeper each time until he held Seonghwa down, caressing his cheeks as he rolled his eyes up to look at him, tears streaking his cheeks from the strain. At one point, the temporary captain made his tongue slightly colder than usual, groaning in delight at the shiver that ran though Yunho’s body at the dual sensation of Seonghwa’s chilly tongue and the rest of his hot mouth.

“You look so pretty like this, Seonghwa. Your mouth feels so good.”

Seonghwa keened, spittle connecting Yunho’s cock to his lips as he pulled out of his mouth. Yunho slapped his cock against Seonghwa’s tongue a few times before lifting his face.

“Are you ready?”

Seonghwa nodded.

“Do you still want me to be rough?”

The spark in Seonghwa’s eyes was enough of an answer, in Yunho’s opinion.

The sound of Seonghwa’s groans and cries would’ve caught the attention of anyone walking by the cabin minutes later, had they had walked past the captain’s quarters. The blonde’s face was screwed up in pleasure, his head on Yunho’s shoulder as the larger man held him in his lap, thrusting into him hard. They had since moved from the desk to the bed located in the quarters.

“Harder, h-harder please-”

Yunho kissed the back of his head before his lips brushed against his ear.

“I hope you’re flexible, Hwa.”

Before Seonghwa could respond, Yunho lifted both of his legs, hooking his hands behind the back of Seonghwa’s head and leaving him fully exposed and prone. His eyes widened as he looked up at his reflection in the mirror across from him, his breath catching at how debauched he looked.

“Fuck me.” the words left his lips before he even realized, swiping his tongue across his lips as he looked at Yunho’s cock, twitching and red just under his ass. There was a gentle kiss to his neck before Yunho lifted his hips, his thigh muscles tensing with every thrust as he resumed his hard pace from before.

Seonghwa whimpered, his arms gripping at the headboard of the bed below them. Yunho’s biceps flexed slightly as he held him still, his breath coming out as hot growls against the Mediterranean man’s head.

Seonghwa was holding himself together, and then Yunho began speaking again.

“Look at yourself, my lovely Hwa. Maybe I should have called the others in, to watch you and how pretty you look falling apart and giving yourself up to me. Which do you like better? My cock or my vines?” he teased, chuckling as Seonghwa rolled his hips down as much as he could while being held in the position. More of Yunho’s vines caressed his inner thighs as he closed his eyes, his lips parted in a perfect ‘o’.

“Y-Your cock, your cock, your-”

Yunho let his legs go, catching him around the waist before he could fall forward. He moved Seonghwa aside, setting him on his back and sliding back into him in one, hard thrust, putting his palms at either side of Seonghwa’s head as he rolled his hips down.

One of Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, blunt nails biting into the top part of Yunho’s tattoos. That drew a pleasured hiss from the doctor as he looked into his eyes, a flicker of pride going off in his body at the way Seonghwa practically melted below him.

The bed creaked in protest from the rigorous thrusts, and Yunho could tell Seonghwa was close by the way the blonde trembled, his voice raising an octave as he wrapped one of his long legs around his waist.

What caught him by surprise was the shaky hand that grabbed Yunho’s, leading it away from the sheets and settling it over Seonghwa’s slightly damp throat.

Yunho looked him in the eyes, watching the almost shy way Seonghwa averted his gaze, flexing his fingers around Yunho’s so the message was clear.

'Choke me.'

Yunho sat up, using his free hand to hold Seonghwa’s left hand as he squeezed his throat, dark brown eyes swirling with lust as he quickened his pace, determined to bring him and his temporary captain over the edge.

Seonghwa let out a pleased whimper, his cock leaking against his abdomen as Yunho held him in place, speaking in a language he, for once, didn't know.

"Look at my good slut. Are you close?"

Seonghwa whimpered pathetically below him, opening his mouth to respond to what he thought was a question. Yunho cut him off by tightening his grip on his throat ever so slightly, his eyes half lidded as he watched Seonghwa tremble below him.

"My handsome boy. That's good, give yourself to me."

The blonde’s normally perfect hair was matted to his head with sweat as he clawed at Yunho, his lips and thighs trembling as he tried to hold himself back from cumming.

Yunho noticed.

"Ah, no no. You're gonna cum for me, Mars. Look me in the eyes and cum for me. Now."

The sharp thrusts he punctuated each word with, the look in his eyes, and the firm grip on Seonghwa’s neck was enough to push the blonde over the edge.

His back arched up, his heated body pressing against Yunho’s as he clawed down his back, leaving red ribbons along his tattooed skin as his cock twitched between them. Thick streaks of milk-colored cum painted Seonghwa’s abs as he clung onto Yunho for dear life, shaky whimpers leaving his mouth.

Yunho slowed his thrusts, moving his hand away from his throat to his chin, lifting his head to press a kiss to his lips, groaning quietly as he slowly fucked his cum into Seonghwa’s clenching hole, keeping him close as the blonde moaned into his kiss.

Minutes passed and Yunho pulled out of him, smiling fondly at the weak groan Seonghwa let out, laying splayed out in the bed with cum dribbling down the crack of his ass as he caught his breath.

He looked gorgeous.

Yunho peppered him in kisses until he turned his head, kissing him gently as they finally calmed down. When he broke apart, he tucked some of Seonghwa’s hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I never expected you to be the type to like being choked.”

“I never expected to have nectar in my ass and enjoy it, so I think today has been a learning experience for both of us, no?”

Yunho snorted and the two of them began laughing, the tension leaving their shoulders as they laid in each other’s arms until they decided to get up and wash off, joining the rest of the crew shortly after they finished washing up.

The wind blew the tails of Yunho’s coat as he stood beside Seonghwa, watching as Hongjoong sat down to rest between Mingi and Sana, eating an orange from Yeosang’s little tree. The smaller man looked up at Seonghwa and Yunho, smiling gently and waving.

Yunho glanced at Seonghwa out of the corner of his eyes, watching as the blonde smiled back, lifting his hand for a gentle wave.

The doctor chuckled and closed his eyes.

They’d be fine.

- ���🐟🦀 -

“Captain Park Seonghwa.”

The blonde stood with his hands behind his back, his grey eyes looking down as Daniel came to his side. The man watched as Hongjoong brought up a huge bubble of water from the ocean, holding it still as Jongho and Wooyoung speared the fish inside, bringing them down where Yeosang and San waited, ready to descale them and got them.

Since San couldn’t use his powers as much as the others during daily life aboard the boat, he had gotten extremely proficient with all kinds of weapons, with knives and blades being his favorite. San’s birthday was fast approaching and the man had asked Yeosang to make him a large seafood dinner for the event.

“Aye, what is it?”

“The month Hongjoong asked for  is nearly over. What will you do?”

A gentle summer breeze blew their bangs and Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong jumped into the ocean with a splash after taking his boots and shirt off. A minute passed and he came back with a larger bubble, laughing merrily as he presented the sealife to the others. San perked when he saw the crabs and shrimp, all but cheering when he saw the large lobsters Jongho yanked out of the bubble.

“I love ya!” He beamed, tossing some of them into a large pot Woo had set onto the deck for the crustaceans. Hongjoong laughed merrily.

“More?”

“One more, gotta make sure everyone can eat enough for seconds or maybe thirds.” Yeosang told them. San smiled happily.

“Yeo’s trying to fatten me up!”

“It’s your birthday. I’m gonna make sure you eat well. Hongjoong-” Yeosang politely motioned to the ocean and Hongjoong nodded, diving back in.

From above, Seonghwa’s gaze softened.

He’d forgotten to respond, but Daniel took to look on his face as an answer, regardless.

He chuckled and pat Seonghwa on the back before he left him alone.

-💫🌠-

“You asked to see me?”

Seonghwa nodded, turning as Hongjoong emerged from a shower. His hair was still damp as he looked up at the blonde captain, a curious sparkle in his eyes. Seonghwa’s gaze softened and he pressed a kiss to his full lips before he placed a familiar worn out compass into his hands.

Hongjoong looked down at it before he looked up, his lips parting.

“Utopia is yours to lead, Hongjoong. I am more than qualified to lead, but I think we both know who really should be the Captain.” Seonghwa left no room for him to protest, cupping Hongjoong’s face and looking down at him.

“I’d much rather follow and support you. You were born to lead us, and you know we’d follow you anywhere. So, do you accept?” Seonghwa didn’t move his face away, smiling gently when Hongjoong placed one hand over one of his that was on his cheek. He leaned into the touch and his lips quirked.

“You really like being my First Mate that much?”

A small chuckle.

“Being your right hand man is a roll that just seems to work well with me, it seems.”

Hongjoong leaned up to kiss him, holding his mother’s compass in one of his hands as he brushed noses with Seonghwa.

“When you put it like that, I have no choice but to accept.”

Seonghwa chuckled and nestled his face in the crook of Hongjoong’s neck.

“Welcome home, captain.”

The two stayed in each other’s arms for a few minutes before they went up to the deck, finding some of the crew members stargazing. Hongjoong looked over them with a fond smile as Seonghwa stood slightly behind him, resting his chin on his head as Yunho pointed up at a constellation.

Hongjoong held Seonghwa’s hands around his waist, enjoying his presence. Before he could catch himself, Seonghwa muttered something into Hongjoong’s hair. The smaller man let out a small inhale before he laced his fingers with Seonghwa’s.

“Captain Jihyo would be proud, Hongjoong.”

-x-

“E h e h e h e h.”

---Ending A/n--

Wisteria-Symbolizes Long life and sometimes immortality, as well as paitience, endurance, and victory over hardships<br /> Blue Lotuses-the spirit's conquest over the senses, intelligence, and wisdom<br /> Purple Water Lilies-Power<br /> Orange Lilies-Hatred, Pride, Disdain<br /> Purple nd Orange Petunias-Resentment and Anger (petunias are actually kinda weird with flower langauages so some liberties were taken with these two oop)<br /> Snapdragons-Deception<br /> Black Roses & Asphodel- Both symbols of Death.<br /> there we are~<br />

----Taglist-

@kimnamshiks​ @angel0taiyo​ @atiny-dazzlinglight​ @phasephoenix​ @eversionic​ @san--shine​ @prettyjoongs​ @unatempesta-dipensieri​ @lonely10vely​ @yunhosblackgf​ @not-majestic-bluenicorn​ @moonmin-miya​ @girlcarma​ @kpopthingzsblog​ @delphinium3000​ @deathbykpopboys​ @just-a-starfruit​ @mireyth​ @skmoonchild​ @kesmonster​ @sneaky-ash​ @allthestarsrclosr​ @im-what-iam​ @thereal-smolchild​ @arohatiny​ @woahwoo​ @buiieobulleo​ @saturatedsan​ @screamingshoes​

[semi-imaginary-place]

rewatching decadence part 2 because part 1 got too long

ep7: Getting to see the game Deca-Dence as a new player would with the opening cutscene, skipping the TOS, character creation and all was a good touch. Also the fact that Kaburagi could look like anything, but he wants to look like mid 40′s dad both times. I wonder who it was that decided Minato should vape. The conversation on the top of Deca-Dence is real interesting because its like only 20% of the actual conversation is spoken out loud and the other 80% left unsaid, so we have to guess what was left unsaid. Minato tells Kaburagi to not make things worse for himself, condoning his actions, but also vows to himself to help Kabu even though it is very dangerous for him. Kaburagi leaves after regretfully saying he doesn’t want to cause Minato more trouble, and yet his current and future actions are and will be doing just that. The obscuring fog in this scene adds to the sense of distance or disconnect between these two. Somewhere over the past 7 years they have fallen off the same page.

This episode again highlights how while for the Tankers this is life and death situation, for the cyborgs Deca-Dence is a game. We get a shot of some Gears lightheartedly discussing how fun the latest game event was, followed right after with what that event meant for the Tankers as we see a makeshift medbay in the streets filled with the dead and dying to really drive home the gap of compassion between the two groups. Minato is one of the few cyborgs we really see besides Kaburagi and the show uses him to show how cyborgs don’t think of humans as people. Humans to the cyborgs are just npcs in a game. Now anime and manga about videogames have been around a long time and were especially popular in the mid 2000s (mmorpgs especially) after which the genre dropped the “in a game” part but kept everything else which were today know as the isekai genre. Hot takes like “the videogame characters are actually people all along” aren’t new either, but Deca-Dence is one of the most successful in generating sympathy and compassion for the Other by flipping the script. Most of those series come from the perspective of the player and show the player coming to care about the npcs. This often isn’t done very well or comes off as patronizing, like the other characters act in service of making the mc look like a good guy instead of actually acting like fully realized people in their own right. (*cough* sao *cough*). In contrast to this, Deca-Dence initially starts from the perspective of Natsume who is human just like us the audience, and thus predisposing us to feeling with and feeling for her. So later when its revealed the humans of this world aren’t seen as people by the cyborgs or the the corporation that rules all their lives, it is granted greater weight in the context of all of us who have played videogames before and met npcs and maybe not cared all that much about them. Decadence places the viewer in the position of the npc, the Other.

Episode 7 is also the beginning of several letters exchanged between Kaburagi and Natsume. Its a presence that lingers long after the person has left and also acts as a contrast to the call/social networking apps of the cyborgs. In episode 5 we saw Kaburagi choose Natsume over following the orders of Solid Quake, but through to episode 7 he still believed in its system. Look even at episode 6 where he still believed that if he worked hard and played by the rules, the system would reward him and everything would be ok and compare that calm assurance in episode 6 to his mountain frustration in episode 7. He’s starting to see how thing are run in Deca-Dence makes life really hard and kind of terrible for the Tankers. This frustration at the system culminates at the end of the episode when he realizes the real human cost of perpetuating this system of oppression in how it hurts Natsume. I mean “Late stage capitalism made my adopted daughter Natsume cry, so I'm going to dismantle it.“ is a joke and pretty funny, but like, that’s what actually what happens. Both Kaburagi and Natsume further the theme of pushing the limits. Kaburagi realizes the limits of his society and why its time to break them down, while of Natsume’s side we see her struggle in the face of things much larger than her. Much like how the cyborgs are stuck in their lifestyles of working for Solid Quake, earning oxyone, and playing Deca-Dence, the Tankers are stuck in their role in society to leave their fates to the Gears and Deca-Dence. So Natsume asking everyone to take charge of their own lives and close that the hole is them stepping out of the comfort of what they’ve always done, which is leave it to someone else (deca-dence administration, gears, etc.). Natsume asks the Tankers to push their limits, the step outside of what they’ve always done and to believe in things they thought were impossible to do. We see Fei representing the belief a lot of Tankers that nothing needs to change, thus nothing should change and they will not act to bring change to their own lives. The Tankers live lives that are decided for them. The Deca-Dence administration controls their population, and the system eliminates any who would disrupt it. They don’t have a lot of control and are resigned to live like that, until Natsume comes along. This episode we see her do what she does the entire series, inspire people to be more. Natsume’s doing alright, she might not be where she wants to be but she’s taken steps in that direction. Where Nstsume is psychologically contrast Kaburagi who’s a bit of a mess realizing he can no longer live under the thumb of Solid Quake’s Deca-Dence system and is kind of floundering about. When kaburagi meets Natsume again... he is so awkward, I’m getting second hand embarressmen. and again the assault jokes have got to stop. The shot of the empty chair calls back to the first episode and another talk between Natsume and Kaburagi. I always love it when an anime plays the credits early.

ep8: again the importance of the individual over the group with kaburagi’s lines at the beginning on why he’s taking down the gadoll factory. I’m just thinking about how kaburagi is certain minato kept his avatar. and everyone just agreeing that minato has that vibe. I really love the avatar retrieval part of the first episode. Its a heist sequence. I love heists!. They also did a good job with pacing and tension in that part. Still can’t believe the creators put a sex toy in this show but at least this joke is actually funny. Oh Minato pulled strings to get Kaburagi out of the poor jail. I missed that part. but now the two of them are not only on different pages, but on different books. Minato doesn’t see the tankers as people and follows the Deca-Dence system on what is good and what is bad, so he can’t comprehend why Kaburagi is throwing away everything the Deca-Dence system values for something the system has deems less than worthless. While Kaburagi has formed a moral compass independent of this system, he sucks at communication and doesn’t explain anything to Minato. Interesting how Minato views bugs as bad but has made an exception for kaburagi and probably did some mental gymnastics to do so. It reminds of those homophobic family members that make an exception for their gay family member. Minato never wanted anything but to be by Kaburagi’s side so he prioritizes Kaburagi above pretty much everything else which is why while he defends the establishment, he also breaks rules for Kaburagi. Their little convo continues the same dialectic, Kaburagi’s been inspired by Natsume to push the limits of himself and society, to choose how he lives instead of letting the Deca-Dence system tell him. Kaburagi underwent character development when Minato wasn’t looking and he can’t recognize him anymore but desperately wants to. Kaburagi moving forwards without him and him realizing that he was never as much a priority to Kaburagi as Kaburagi was to him, means that Minato’s really hurting by the end of the scene, and he doesn’t take it out on Kaburagi, he just leaves. ...if it isn’t obvious by now, minato is my favorite character. gotta love the gay robot having a mid life crisis. (i mean his feeling aren;t necessarily romantic, but you know the joke I’m referencing). Turkey just wakes up and chooses evil every day huh. I predict someone on tumblr with a history of unhealthy relationships is horny for turkey.

ep9: why does the reactor look like a cyborg core? Again. WHYYY does Donatello have a gun??? idiots let him keep a working gun. I love the contrast of the actual pretty gritty situation of the prison riot being represented with super cartoony slapstick animations. This probably saves on frames as well as keep the series from getting too dark, because if you think about it the labor camp conditions are pretty horrifying but its disguised with cartoony designs and wacky characters. Kaburagi and Natsume are doing very important plot things, but the core of episode 9 are Sark and Turkey. Through them we see the same conversation that has been repeated through out the series of conforming to society and staying in line, that things won’t ever change so you should just duck your head and follow order, or the “I’m comfortable how things are” versus you should make your own choices with live life how to want to, to push your limits. Turkey sees the Deca-Dence system as absolute and eternal and thus tries to play by the system and help it continue by selling out everyone else. Sark is passive and doesn't really have an opinion of his own, just following whatever the others are doing whether its Kaburagi stealing his avatar or Turkey in betraying everyone. Sark unlike Turkey isn’t malicious, he wants the best for everyone but also isn’t quite willing to put himself at risk for others. After seeing everyone be destroyed as a consequence of following Turkey however, his new resolve and subsequent suicide bombing is the only reason the plan ends up succeeding. For total destruction of the gadoll factory two things were needed: flipping the kill switch on all the gadoll in the dome, and destroying the reactor powering the factory. We aren’t told how Jill and Kaburagi originally planned to destroy the reactor (like was he just suppose to wander around until they bumped into it?), but Sark’s explosion is what allowed Kaburagi and Natsume to get away from Hugin. Without Sark, Hugin would have totally caught them. So it was Sark taking charge of his own life and pushing his limits that saved them all. That said, if the explosion was powerful enough to reach all the way up the giant tube and destroy the reactor, why didn’t it break the tube and why didn’t it destroy everyone left in the prison? ah well it makes thematic sense so I’ll let this pass.

So I’ve talked before about how Deca-Dence’s ending could be improved to build on some of the themes established in the first couple episodes. The problem is that this show isn’t pushing a narrative of collaboration and the power of collective bargaining, its pushing an individualist narrative about how each and every person can reach out and better themself. Now I don’t think these two themes are mutually exclusive, but it would take a very delicate touch as well as an attentive and thoughtful audience to successfully weave these two theme together into a nuanced whole. And if a rewrite were to happen with the minimal amount of changes, I think ep 10 is a good divergence point. The final little arc is about the rogue gadoll outside of the Deca-Dence system and the threat of total annihilation by solid quake, and while big kaiju fights look cool, they don’t quite deal with dismantling systems of oppression at the hands of your corporate overlords. So, I would have preferred something like the cyborgs and Tankers coming together to seize the means of production, destroy Solid Quake, and take its assets for themselves. The ideal rewrite situation though would for this all to be 24 episodes and the big gadoll to be the episode 12 climax while taking down Solid Quake happen in ep 23-24. And since we’re doing a rewrite, Natsume kinda drops off as the main character after episode 5 and I’d like to see her back at the forefront of the show.

ep10: If this show had leaned more into the futility of Natsume seeking to improve herself within a system that rendered it meaningless, it would have ended up much darker, but I also think it would have been richer. Ah poor Natsume, she’s at a low point since the context of what she has been doing has wildly changed, afterall, what’s the point of improving yourself if nothing else ever changes and what you do doesn’t matter. The letter writing continues and it is good. So I’m not going to question how the exit tunnel is still intact, but watching into robot kaburagi angrily drive a car and swear is really funny. I’ve been wondering for a while, the humans literally live in a fuel tank, how is there enough light to grow plants in there? Like as part of the post-apocalyptic aesthetic, a lot of Tankers have little house plants which in addition to being inside the fuel tank, are also inside their houses. oh yeah for any who didn’t get it. The reason as a child Natsume went into cardiac arrest and her chip was read as dead wasn’t because of the severity of her injuries, Deca-Dence’s system had deemed her too dangerous to live and flipped her kill switch.

ep11: on a thematic level I might be meh, but the writing and execution are what really pull the ending through. Everything is nicely set up from the mutated gadoll the victim of animal abuse several episodes earlier to fighting hugin in the factory being how hugin finds out about natsume. I think about Jill’s lines here, that no matter how hard you try to keep things from changing, you’re just fighting the inevitable. Also Natsume took Kaburagi’s switching bodies really well like seeing someone you care about die in front of you but then surprise they just got another body would give most people such whiplash. “our bodies are under the system’s control, but our core’s are independent of it” I’m still thinking about this. It makes sense given how the first generation of cyborgs where humans with mechanical implants, but cyborg’s cores are still such a mystery. The things you can’t control are a part of life too. In Deca-Dence bugs are uncertainties that the master control system doesn’t know what to do with. More than just individualism good, here we get a little more nuance to Deca-Dence (the show)’s theme. Jill was one of the creators of the Deca-Dence game (giant mech, control system, and all), and they tried to create perfect system where everything was under its control and order could be maintained forever, and this inevitably failed (the show tells us). Trying to perfectly order everything is to attempt the impossible, disorder will always creep in and those little individual differences should be celebrated. and is to the backdrop of an old Deca-Denca(robot) part that is rusting away, plants and animals overtaking it much like how the Deca-Dence’s currently enforced status quo of the game will fall away in the face of those it deems bugs. wait did we ever figure out what the bug was that jill left in deca-dence? mmmm I’m still thinking about Minato logging out because the system told him to but unwilling to let things end this way so physically going back down to earth in his real body. Facing the possibility of truly losing Kaburagi forever is what pushes Minato to question following the Deca-Dence master control system. He totally became a bug for Kaburagi. I doubt Kaburagi had any idea how much Minato wanted to hear the words “let’s fight together to the end”, but offered the thing he truly desires, Minato probably would have done anything. mmm he’s got it bad. there’s also that linking Kaburagi and Deca-Dence’s core takes two people and yet, Kaburagi didn’t bring anyone with him. Which is terrible planning, but allowed for this really great scene. that he knew Minato would come after him. And then the last thing me sees in Minato. Minato truly is ride or die. literally. He could have gone back to the spaceship so that he’d survive no matter what, but he choose to stay. If the plan succeeds then he will see it through with/right beside/literally inside of Kaburagi, and if it fails and Kaburagi is annihilated when Solid Quake wipes the dome, Minato will also be annihilated along side Kaburagi.

ep12: so kaburagi just straight up demands admin privileges and the governing sys is like “sure”. Yeah pretty sure the governing system convo was a season 2 hook to show the big wigs. The independent all governing system tells Kaburagi that all this, him and bugs are a part of the system’s learning process, to which Kaburagi responds that all that doesn’t matter since he’s going to do what he wants independent/regardless of the governing system. the context in which you do things doesn’t matter. Also I never pointed it out since its like the 4th wall of scifi, everyone is just trained to suspend their disbelief, but oxyone is total bullshit. A non toxic liquid energy dense fuel that can be concentrated into orbit range lasers. The tankers all helping Natsume push the spare part is a feel good moment seeing everyone working together. Its an unnecessarily scene for the purpose of including the tankers in the action, since the part wasn’t ever really needed and the writers didn’t have to have it severed by the laser to begin with. the Natsume montage overlayed with the music is very good. wait. i just realized, limiter release can be reversed. Afterall, Kaburagi released his limiters with his first avatar, and if he had still been fully connected to it when hugin killed that avatar, cyborg Kaburagi should have died too but he didn’t and just immediately logged in on a different account. Kabu-Dence releasing his limits here and literally giving all of himself to destroy omega is fulfilling both for his character arc and on an emotional level. This entire show has been about pushing one’s limits and making your own choices, and it culminates here’s in Kaburagi literally releasing his limiter, thus putting him in mortal danger, and then giving every last ounce of himself to the path he has decided. The destruction of the mech fortress Deca-Dence is also symbolic of the end of the game of the Deca-Dence mmorpg as we know it. wait wait did Kaburagi hold on just long enough to hear Natsume thank him. aaaaahhh and then the ed song plays!! and then the play the new mmo intro scene. Still real weird that they’re using a cyborg brain as a ball.

[dine-on-darling]

The Feeling of Being Full

It’s my babe Beelzebub’s turn to get a taste of Darling~

Soft, safe vore, similar size, willing prey

---------

Out of all the demon brothers, Darling found that Beelzebub was the most comfortable to lie on top of.

Darling flipped another page of her book, bouncing her foot idly on the bed behind her. Her whole body fit snuggly on top of Beel’s massive frame. Not only was he a solid two feet taller than her, but all the muscle he accumulated made him a certified giant compared to her. So she could prop herself up on the middle of his chest easily without slipping off to either side, the surface solid and warm underneath her, her weight on top of him wasn’t even something for him to blink at; the demon himself contently scrolling through the D.D.D held above his face, one hand on her back to ensure she was stable.

Hanging out like this was easy for the two of them. Beel was always so gentle with her, and so kind too, it hadn’t taken long at all for them to grow close. He was naturally very cuddly too, they could spend hours comfortably next to each other, so long as there were no interruptions, that is. Which, given that they were in a house full of rambunctious demons, there usually were.

Today, she’d only been in Beel’s room for a little bit, having stayed at school to take care of some stuff. She’d decided to stop by Hell’s Kitchen on her way back with Mammon, grabbing a sandwich for her self and a couple extra as a treat for her favorite gluttony demon. She knew how his hunger followed him everywhere, so she was glad to see his excited face whenever she brought him a snack. Of course, he’d torn through every sandwich in a second, and if she hadn’t eaten her own before coming to see him, he’d probably have given her puppy dog eyes until she handed it over. No doubt he’d be hungry again before long, though.

Speak of the devil, so to say, the comfortable silence was interrupted by a rumble that had Darling’s whole body vibrating for a moment, for the source was directly under her. She laughed lightly, poking a finger into Beel’s stomach. “I’d expected that poor sandwich to last you longer than, what, thirty minutes tops; guess I shouldn’t underestimate the power of the avatar of gluttony, eh?” She rolled off of him, and he patted his empty stomach with a shy smile.

“Sorry, I know you were comfortable like that.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“It’s fine, big guy.” She lifted an arm to pat his bicep, still lying down. “If you want, I can run to the kitchen to get some snacks for you.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

“Sure, it’s no big deal. I can’t carry as much as you, but Luci would probably get upset with you for clearing out the fridge before dinner anyway, so I can get you enough to hold you over.”

Beel smiled as bright as Mammon when he’s starring at Goldie. He opened his mouth to say what Darling was sure would be an agreement, but then it looked like something occurred to him and his mouth closed. He looked off to the side, thinking about something.

Darling quirked an eyebrow; what was he hesitating for? Usually when it came to food he was all over any ideas, she couldn’t think of a reason he wouldn’t immediately take her up on her offer. “Beel?”

He looked back to her. “Ah, sorry.”

Darling sat up, turning to face the demon fully. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah, thinking about something, is all.”

“Do… you want to go get the snacks from the kitchen yourself?” Maybe he’d been weighing the pros and cons of getting less food vs facing Lucifer’s wrath?

“No, actually I was thinking about how what I want to eat isn’t in the kitchen.”

“Oh, so you want to run out somewhere, then?”

“There’ no need, it’s already in the house.” He looked almost shy, a blush tinting his cheeks.

Okay, now Darling was really confused, Beel hardly beat around the bush, especially when it came to food. His stomach rumbled again, and he furrowed his bros slightly in thought, this time looking right at her. There was a look in her eyes that she thought seemed familiar… oh, hold on a tick.

“Beel… you’re not talking about me, are you?”

The hunger in his eyes grew, and he nodded eagerly, like he was happy she was the one to say it.

It’d been a little over a week and a half ago that Mammon had first swallowed her. Since then, they’d done it again a couple more times. She’d been hesitant since it still felt like such a weird arrangement to her, but the thought of how comfortable it felt despite the strangeness made her much more willing. The first time, Mammon had been so caught up in the feeling that they hadn’t done much more than cuddle like that on the bed before he let her out. But that night at dinner she’d wished she could perform that shrinking spell on herself to hide her embarrassment as he loudly told the story to his brothers. She’d had her head ducked the whole time, so she could only assume that the glances she felt from the other boys had been curious and possibly judgmental, if only she’d looked then she might have known that that was the start of hungry ideas beginning to form. To her relief, the others hadn’t really said anything about it since then, except for a few teasing comments when Mammon decided to walk around and show everyone his Darling filled gut, much to her further embarrassment.

The only one she thought she’d noticed a subtle change in was Beel, like he was looking at her in a new light. Honestly, she’d expected the avatar of gluttony to start getting ideas, but he hadn’t actually said anything to her about it and treated her like normal, so she’d assumed at this point that he simply wasn’t interest in eating something he wouldn’t be allowed to digest. Now she saw he real reason: he was too worried about making her uncomfortable. In his eyes, it was one thing for Mammon, her guardian, to have that level of intimacy with her, but if he were to ask and she assumed he was merely thinking of her as another meal to satisfy his boundless appetite, if she thought back to all those careless comments about eating her all the demons had made that she only recently began taking seriously, then it might damage their friendship. Looking only at his surface, it’d be easy to write him off as merely a gluttonous muscle head, but Darling learned early on how emotionally tuned in he is.

Beel was still looking at her with that hungry, hopeful look in his eyes. His stomach groaned, and he placed a hand over it to settle it. Darling blushed, his stomach was rumbling because he was hungry for her. She wondered how much of his thoughts have been occupied by this lately.

He noticed her hesitation, leaning back to put some distance and frowning. “Sorry, I know it’s a weird request, I shouldn’t have-“

“Well…” Darling interrupted him. She chewed at her own lip, thinking about what she was about to say. “If it’s safe, like with that spell, then it’s fine.”

Beel looked back at her with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe she was actually entertaining him. “Are you sure?”

She smiled at the look on his face, he’s such a sweetheart. “Yeah, it’s fine, Beel; so long as you let me out before it’s time for dinner.”

He grinned at her, leaning forward to gently grab the back of her head and press his lips to her forehead. Like Mammon, he whispered more strange words, but it seemed slightly different. That same warm feeling washed over her, and she hummed in the back of her throat. She’d come to expect the shrinking to happen almost immediately after the warm feeling subsided, so she was surprised to find herself at exactly the same height still.

Beel picked up her hands delicately in his much larger ones and brought them up to his mouth.

“Wait!” She said.

He stopped right before her fingers passed through his lips, looking disappointed to be stopped, gazing at her through is lashes with puppy dog eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“A-Ah, well, aren’t you going to, y’know, shrink me first? Like Mammon does. I mean, you can’t actually fit me at this size, can you?”

He only smiled and reached over to ruffle her hair. “No underestimating the power of the avatar of gluttony, remember? Besides, you’re already so small compared to me, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even be able to feel you if I shrunk you anymore.”

That made sense, she supposed. She still had her doubts, but he seemed confident in himself, looking at her with eyes asking for her permission to continue. She nodded her silent agreement, and he gladly raised her hands that last bit to push them into his mouth. The moment his tongue touched her skin and he got a proper taste of her, his eyes closing in bliss and an appreciative hum rising in his throat, she knew that there was no backing out of this now.

He seemed to be trying to go a lot slower than he’d normally eat out of consideration to her, taking the time to soak in her flavor. He pushed her hands in until she felt them touch the back of his throat. She tried her best not to shiver at the feeling.

Again, Beel brought a hand up to grab the back of her head, this time pushing it down a bit. This confused her, she knew she’d have to duck her head to get it into his mouth, but he still had most of her arms to work in before then. At least, she assumed so.

He pushed her hands in a little bit further so his throat could grasp them, and swallowed.

Darling couldn’t help the squeak that left her mouth as she was forcefully jerked forward, finding herself suddenly lodged up to her head inside Beel’s mouth. Her fingers fluttered, already at the entrance to his stomach. Holy shit, that’s one hell of a throat you’ve got there, Beel.

He paused to rub her back a moment, as though apologizing for startling her. His tongue flicked over her face, and she scrunched her eyes closed as it was coated in his saliva. It was interesting, she thought, being inside a mouth at her normal height rather than her shrunken height. It was much more cramped, and she’d been worried about Beel’s sharp fangs scrapping her as she went, but he was doing a remarkable job of keeping her unharmed; she could only barely feel them poking into her.

She could feel him trying to restrain himself from going too fast, but she could also feel the impatient rumble build from below her. His stomach wanted her badly, and Beel was often powerless to it’s command.

She would have expected her shoulders to pose a challenge, but at this point she’d given up on doubting his eating ability. His tongue gave her face a quick caress, before he worked his mouth to readjust her a bit, and gave another heavy swallow.

His throat was all too happy to pull her deeper in, quickly and without fuss guiding her along it’s course. Her head followed her arms, now causing a bump to start forming on Beel’s abdomen.

He placed one hand against his throat, relishing in the feeling her movements caused, and then settled it against where her head pushed against him, rubbing circles with his thumb.

It was now that he tilted his head back, raising her legs into the air so that he could use gravity to assist him. The odd feeling of being upside down like that made her kick her legs helplessly, and Beel used one hand to reassuringly grab her thigh to steady them.

He was losing his patience now, trembling at the feeling of her starting to fill out his stomach, but he needed more. Her clothes were getting in the way of her taste now anyway, and while he was a little disappointed by that, it made it easier for him to quickly proceed with his next swallow.

Her legs slide in easily like they were simply large noodles he was feasting on, and he was soon able to finally close his lips around the last part of her to enter his lips. He barely paused there to enjoy the feeling, swallowing hungrily again.

Darling’s body sloshed forward heavily as the rest of her landed in his stomach and she was sealed inside.

Beel’s hands straight away went to his stomach, roaming over the surface. He licked his lips to try and get more of her taste, letting out a moan of satisfaction. He could feel her moving around, trying to get comfortable. Despite having a full person within, Beel’s stomach wasn’t as protruding as much as one might expect. This was both due to their size difference and his rock wall of an abdomen helping to keep it held back. It was still very noticeable, but not something he’d have trouble moving around with.

“You okay?” Beelzebub asked.

Darling nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“It’s not too cramped, is it?”

“No. I mean, it feels like a tighter fit than being in Mammon’s stomach, but the walls are all soft enough that it feels fine. Really, it’s comfortable.”

He smiled softly. “Good.” He carefully moved, trying not to jostle her too much, so his back was leaning against the bed’s headboard, continuing to massage his stomach. He watched it move as Darling shifted in place to find the best position to curl up in.

Inside, Darling experimentally stretched out her arms, getting a feel for the place. It certainly did feel different from Mammon’s, but not in a bad way. She almost wished there was a source of light in here so she could take a look around, maybe next time she’d bring her D.D.D with her, although she wasn’t sure if the protection spell would keep that safe as well. She noted how there was no trace of the food she’d watched Beel devour a mere half hour ago left in his stomach and became very glad for that spell.

They were both quiet as she found the most comfortable position she could and settled, Beel’s hands rubbing circles into her the whole while. Darling pressed her hands against what she was pretty sure was the front of his stomach and, almost out of habit at this point, started massaging back. Mammon loved having his belly rubbed so much that she figured Beel probably would as well. Judging by the steady purr that built up all around her and the way the space tightened around her, she was spot on.

Beelzebub felt like he was back in heaven. Not only did he actually feel pleasantly full for the first time in probably ever, he’d never had his food rub back at him. Then again, Darling wasn’t any regular food, she was someone very precious to him, and his purr grew louder as he thought about how nice it felt to have her tucked away safely like this. He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to hug her ever tighter. Both of them relished in the comfortable warmth they felt.

Nice as they moment was, it was eventually interrupted by a few swift knocks on the door and it opening without the knocker waiting for permission. Which wasn’t surprising, seeing as it was Mammon who entered the room. “Yo, human, Satan said you were hanging out in here with- Hey!” Darling could hear his muffled shout, and then his voice got louder like he’d run closer. “Is that my human in there?!”

“Mhm.” Beel nodded.

“Not cool! What part of “my human” did you not get? Spit her up!”

Beel squeezed his stomach tighter. “Nope. I only swallowed her a minute ago. Besides, she agreed to do this.”

“Daaarliiing! How could you?!”

“Sorry, Mammon,” she called, not sure how well her voice could be heard through Beel’s flesh. “I’d say this is what you get for walking around with me despite me asking you not to, you’re the one who gave him the idea.”

Beel nodded happily. “Thanks, Mammon!”

“Gggrrr! Now I have to compete for this too?! This sucks!” Mammon scratched at his hair in frustration, scowling off to the side. He’d seen the looks on his brother’s faces; he should have seen this coming. It was only a matter of time before the others would try and get a taste as well. He sighed, crossing his arms. “Whatever, I was still your first. Oi, Beelzebub, you better cough her up by dinner, and I’m not letting you have her back today.”

Beel nodded. “Fine.”

Darling rolled her eyes at Mammon’s dramatics.

The door clicked shut again a moment later, Mammon no doubt going back to his own room to sulk.

“Sorry about him.” Darling said, patting the side of Beel’s stomach.

He laughed, patting back on the same spot. “It’s fine.”

Darling resumed her petting, and Beel sunk back further, closing his eyes with a smile to better enjoy the feeling. They’d stay like this until it was time for dinner. He was looking forward to the thought of eating, but he couldn’t help but wish all food would make him feel this way. Now that he knew what it was like to be full, there was no way he was letting this be the last time.  

[futurewriter2000]

Sweet Rebels - Epilogue

A/N: I finally finished it. This was supposed to be a one- shot but you guys just had to make me want to continue this. And so I did...and continued...and continued but I finally fiished it. And I really love this ending. I’m not a mushy person but I loved writing this so much. Hope you guys like it. 

XX

You have been waiting for this moment for months. Months of waiting impatiently to see the man you love. You have been exchanging letters, calling and you have been working so hard to get accepted to Cornell University. 

Since the whole Wellington fiasco, your uncle has been let go of his teaching position in the school and he left for London, meaning you had to go back home. In the middle of the year, you had to switch schools and leave. 

Your love has promised you devotion and loyalty and as much as you trusted him, that mischivious look in his eyes caused you doubts. But he did write you more letters a day, call you every time he thought of his crazy ideas. Slepless nights for both you were filled with laughter and long talks. It got you through the impatience in the moment but after it always ended up with more cravings to see him. 

You worked all summer, multiple jobs for your tuition in Cornell. Your parents weren’t keen on helping you but your uncle, however, decided to help generously. You felt selfish for taking so much money but he insisted as if it was nothing to him. He told you that if he doesn’t give the money to his family, than who will he give it to? 

Charlie had a more complicated story than you. His parents were ashamed of him and of what he did. They kicked him out because it wasn’t the first time he was expelled from a school. They told him he was an embarrasment for them and himself. Knox, however, was from a really kind family and they took Charlie in for those few months before he could get on his own feet. Charlie didn’t know how to start his own life. How to be responsible but you were always there to support him. Knox was there to support him and so were his other friends. His first job was in a jazz club where he started to play the saxophone. He was so darn happy about it and he kept calling you after every performance, just screaming at the phone anything that came to his mind. He started paying Mr. Overstreet for rent and he wanted to pay for the food as well but they just didn’t let him. Later, he got himself an old, cramped apartment, loving it with all his heart and sould. He bought himself a typewriter right after and started to write as well. Some days you went crazy because of his writing. He just disappeared behind that typewriter for days but eventually you got your letter and his promised call. 

So here you were. In front his door with a luggage, smiling like crazy. You told him that you’re coming in a week but you wanted to surprise him. You wanted to see him and you wanted to be romantic and cute. You had it all planned out but when it came to it, you were just so happy and nervous that you couldn’t even think straight. 

“Come on. Pick up.” you heard his voice from the other side and you felt your heart jump to your throat. “Come on, (y/n)... I know you’re probably lying in bed and eating chips.” you laughed at that. 

Yeah, if you were home right now, you probably would. 

You pressed your finger to the doorbell and it let out it’s ring. 

“Be there in a minute!” he shouted and you felt your cheeks hurting from the smile. Your stomach was in a tight knot, your hands clammy. He didn’t move. You pressed the doorbell again. 

“I SAID I’LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!” he shouted angrily but you just kept ringning until he stormed to the door and opened them with with a strong pull, preparing to yell but as soon as his eyes saw you, they spread wide. He didn’t even think a second before pulling you into his embrace, almost knocking you off your feet. 

He had you close to him, pressing you closer and closer. His arms were larger than you remember, his chest broader, his chin growing a stubble and yet he still smelt like vanilla- and sweat but at this point you didn’t care because him was all you needed. Him and his wamrth, him and his whole energy. It overwhelmed you to the point you started to cry, tears falling down your cheeks because you were just so overjoyed of being with him. 

It was better than romantic and better than just cute, it was heaven. He was a mess of a heaven but still so much and so out of this world. Everything- undescribable. He pulled away, cupping your face and taking a look at you, for a moment or two before taking you back into his embrace, gentler this time. 

“What are you doing here? I thought it you would come in a week.” he mumbled into you.

“I couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to surprise you.” you smiled and he pulled away again, observing every goddess like feature on you. 

“You’re crying.” he said seriously, brushing your tears with his thumbs. 

“I’m happy.” you let fat tears roll down your cheeks once again. He stretched his lips into a wide beam and pulled you into a kiss- a kiss that made your head spin, a kiss where lust wasn’t even present. It was love- so much love in that kiss and it was the first time you ever felt it. First time you felt this amount of love in one kiss and you wanted it to last forever. You wanted this love, his love, this kiss to just be infinite. His growing stubble tickled your face but at the same time it was a pleasant feeling. You grabbed his shirt, twisted it in your fists and pulled him down on you, deepening the kiss and making him smile. He grabbed your thighs and effortlessly lifted you up. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist and he took you into the apartment. 

You pulled away, lookng at the suitcases outside. “My luggage.” 

“It can wait.” 

---

“My luggage is still outside.” you said as you watched your hand play with his. He smiled and mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear, turning your head around only for him to nuzzle closer in the crook of your neck and giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. His beard brushed along your shoulder, causing goosebumps to appear on your bare skin. He smiled, pleased, and kissed the top of your shoulder. 

His body, pressed against you and covered with coffee- coloured sheets, was pleasingly warm against yours. You turned around, so that now you were faced to face with the boy you have been so desperately waiting for and you notice something. 

He was looking at you differently. It was as if his eyes weren’t the same as the last time you saw them. The were soothing and lazy at the same time. He blinked slowly, tenderly and his mouth was curved into a small yet doting smile. 

“I’m in love with you.” he said quietly and solemnly. 

Your smile stretched wide on your reddened cheeks and you couldn’t stop. Your cheeks reached up your eyes and it only caused him to say it one more time. He dragged his arm up to your face and played with the hair on the side of your hair. “I love you, (y/n)(y/l/n) and I have never been more thankful for that ball hitting my face.” 

You laughed, dragging your own hand up to his cheek where the dark stubble was growing, you brushed your palm against it and looked up at his adoring eyes. “I love you too, Charlie “Nuwanda” Dalton.” you said and he chuckled. 

“That’s right.” he leaned it to kiss you, climbing on top of you. “Nuwanda.” he kissed your jaw, then slowly making his way to your neck. “Say it.” 

You put your hands under his jaw and pulled him up, looking deep into his eyes and smiling. “Luggage.” you pushed his shoulders, stood up from the bed and hearing him whine behind you. 

“It’s not like it’s going anywhere.” he grabbed a pillow and put it over his head. You shuffled over his warderobe, finding your favorite shirt of his and putting it on. Your fingers were doing the buttons and before you were halfway done, arms wrapped themselves around you and your lover kissed your cheek softly. “Come back to bed.” his hands placed themselves on top of yours, drawing up to the buttons of this shirt and starting to undo them. “Did I tell you how much I love you in my shirts?” he paused, turning you around and pressing your hips against the warderobe. “Especially in my favorite shirt?” his eyebrow quirked and he kissed you down, trying to undo the button but his fingers kept slipping. 

“You know what I love seeing you in?” you said seductively and he pulled away, looking at you michiviously. 

“What?” 

“Carrying my luggage before someone steals it.” you moved out of his hold and slipped away. 

“You are just cruel, (y/n)(y/l/n).”

“And you are...” you drifted off, walking into the living room and looking around. Your feet dug into the furry carpet beneath you meanwhile your fingers brushed against the bookshelves and open books on the desk. You could see sentances being underlined with a red pencil. You smiled and sat down at his desk, letting your eyes observe the sentances and his own messy handwriting. Completely deaf to the racket on the hall, your fingers flipped the pages and stopped when you saw something red written on the bottom of the page. 

The sentance was underlined. 

“Why, darling, I don’t live at all when I’m not with you.”

You smiled widely at the sentance, lifting up the book and trying to see the cover but before you could, a piece of paper fell out of it. 

You bent down to pick it up, seeing it covered in red already. Opening it, you start to read it. 

You saw so much red, crossed: ‘Hemingway believed that you cannot love more than one- What? No!’ you smiled, reading on. ‘I don’t know what Heminway believed because I only read one of his books and all I kept thinking was her her her. She can’t get out of my head. I can still feel her so close but she is so far away. I feel like losing my mind- am I losing my mind? Maybe?’

You saw some scribbles on the top of the page, some crossed words you couldn’t figure out and some drawings al around. 

“You shouldn’t read those. It’s private.” you looked up to see him leaning on the door frame. 

“How long have you been watching me?”

“Long enough to know you’re too goddamn sexy and that I am too goddamn wrapped around your finger to let you do whatever you want.” he was now close, leaning down and flicking his eyes onto the paper. “Ah!” he smiled. “Hemingway.” he grabbed the list and walked away, looking down on it. He chuckled and turned back to you, running his hand down his chin. 

“What?” you tilted your head. 

“Nothing.” he said, folding the paper pack and leaning on the armrest. “Glad you read it because I would suck at saying it.” 

“You mean that I was always stuck in your head?” 

“You were- you still are.” he kept watching you from a far, looking so devilishly sexy. 

You dug your feet into the rug and let them drag behind you as you walked towards him. “What exactly was I doing in your mind?” you spoke seductively, brushing your lips against him and pulling away to see his eyes turn shades. 

His lips turned into a amused curve and his eyebrow followed. He stood up, letting his hand slip under your shirt and pull you close. He kissed you, slowly and biting your lower lip as he pulled away. “This.” the tension started to relax as you saw him grow confused for a second, he let his forehead rest on yours and he let out a low breath. 

“Charlie?” you cupped his face, seeing his eyes filled with not their usual spark- no, something quite foreign. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” you started to feel a bit insecure about your actions, the redness staining your face. 

He looked up at you, smiling. “Nothing, love. Nothing at all. It’s just...”

“Just?” 

“Just you in general. You and me and us- the idea of us...” he drifted off and you could feel him getting nervous, causing you to share the same feeling. “I wanna marry you, (y/n).” he finally blurted out and you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Yerr-” you couldn’t form a word, let alone an answer. 

“I know, it’s- I’m sorry, I just- forget it.” he moved away but you pulled him back.

“Forget it?” you pulled him back and smiled completely bewildered. “What made you think of marrying me?” 

 He took a deep breath in and took your hands. “Guess there’s really not going back now, is there?” he smiled nervously.

“No, there isn’t.”

“I know how it was. I know what happened between us and since that first time, that first time for us I was so scared. I was scared of you so much but only God knows that I was already done for you. I can’t get you out of my head, (Y/n). I just can’t. I tried, for a second and sometimes it worked but I just started to miss you and I think that is quite weird. I don’t think it’s normal for me to spend so much time on you- you and only you. I love you, (y/n)(y/l/n) and I want to spend my whole life with you. I know we are young and might be stupid right now but I feel it. I feel it with you. I know it’s you and I can’t let anybody else have you. I need you and I want you- you’re crying again.” he widened his eyes. “Is it because you’re happy? Please tell me it’s  because you’re happy.” the worry grew in his eyes but you just kept nodding.

“I’m happy.” you said, tears rolling down your eyes. “I’m so happy.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself to him. 

“I’m going to make you happier.” he dug his nose into your shoulder and took a deep breath of your shampoo mixed with his own scent. He smiled. “I will love you with everything to make you happy.”

[cloudyyoonji]

Knotted White Lies

Han Jisung x Reader. 

Requested by ANON

Summary: Stuck in an arranged marriage with none other than Han Jisung feels both awkward and like a breath of fresh air. Genre: Angsty Fluff!! New love fluff! ___________________________ Long tables are horribly impractical.  

Yet you’re seated in the corner of one, mother and father beside you.   Across the vast space is another family, one your father associated with for work; the chairman, his wife and his son, who is also seated in the middle of his parents.

A green china tea set rests in the middle of the space, sweets overflowing in an emerald china jar, completely untouched.  

Much like the sweets, the glittering ring seated on your left forth finger remains untouched.  

Even after the many months you’d been wearing it, it had never felt as heavy as it did now.

“They’re to be married by noon.” Chairman Han tells your father, a wide smile peeking over the rim of his teacup.

“Of course,” your father says, a chuckle in his voice as he peers over to his wife. “There is no doubt. We have been very excited about this marriage for a long time."

Well, everyone except you; the bride to be, and your fiancé.

You two barely glance at each other, laughing in the appropriate times, and bidding your thanks to the other family when plausible.

But what is said, is done.  

24 hrs later, you are seated behind an even larger table, decorated in white trimmed lace, bouquets of white roses and tulips, and people bidding their promises of love and eternity to the happy bride and groom. The evening air is crisp, almost as crisp as your mother's handwriting on your forged wedding vows, the note cards tucked under your ringed hand. You can see Jisung’s tucked away too, his fathers writing as dark as his black suit.  

As far as conversations went, you and the groom had barely uttered a word to each other since the engagement had started. You knew his name; Han Jisung, his age; 19, and his family; the chairman and his wife. In return, he knew the same about you, your name, age and family.   You never felt so far from reality, seeing someone you barely know wrap their hands around yours and call you family, call you his wife, his lifelong partner.  

But of course, none of the words was his. Then again, neither were yours.  

The house arrest came later, both your parents shoving you inside, a white dress and all. Jisung was right behind you, just as flustered as you.  

The doors in the house seemed to slam one after the other.   Parents gone, Jisung’s door remaining firmly shut. So you took refuge too, the door to your room shut, but the window open, curtains fluttering over the bench seat in the corner.  

This would be your home, and home is what you’d make it.  

A week turned into a month, your body rarely leaving your comforter or the bench seat. By now you’d memorised the way the horizon rose and fell, what day, noon, evening and night all looked like against it.  

It was in the early depths of the afternoon when the sunshine was bright overhead, clear in the middle of the horizon.  

A knock at the door doesn’t pull your gaze away from the jagged line of the trees, the rising of the hills.  

“Y/N,”  

You turn your head at the sound of a soft voice, both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Your eyes fixate on the figure at the door, a sense of both familiarity and unfamiliarity slicing through you, as cold as the wind outside.  

“You should eat.”  

Han Jisung stood by your doorframe, head leaned to the side as his gaze lays on you, eyes filled with concern.  

“I-“ You cut yourself off, sitting up more formally, hands clasping together in your lap. “Mr Han, I am alright. But thank you for your concern.”  

The boy cringes, nose wrinkling.   "Please, call me Jisung. Mr Han is my father's name. I hate formalities he holds.”  

You smile slightly, nodding along to his request. You hated the formalities too.  

Jisung looks up at you again.   “Come eat downstairs. I’ll make you something.”  

You gingerly shake your head again.   “I'm fine. Really."

He rolls his eyes this time, shaking his head.   “No is not an option. You haven’t eaten all day.”  

“And I don’t recall you caring about this before.”  

You don’t quite expect your words to come out so harsh, yet somehow you don’t quite regret them either.  

Any trace of arrogance is knocked away from the boy, his frame dropping a little in the frame of the doorway, hand going limp by his side.  

“I’ve always cared.”  

“Oh, you have?” You ask, standing up now, arms crossed. “Is that why you locked yourself away? Did you think ‘this isn’t fair’? That ‘your life is ruined’ and ‘planned out for you’?! Don’t you think that I felt the same?”

You’re standing now, raging at the situation at hand.   “I, Han Jisung, don’t want your charity.”  

He takes your words with a blank expression, hands still limp beside him.  

His calmness enrages you more.  

“How can you just stand there!” You shout, gesturing widely to his relaxed state.  

“I deserve that.” Jisung sighs, pushing himself into your room, standing only a meter from you now  

“You’re right Y/N. I know how hard this has been for me. It must have been ten times harder for you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this has to be our future. But right now, we have to make do with what we have. Let’s start from the beginning, turn a new page. Can we at least try to be friends? For sanity’s sake? Because I don’t think that I can keep doing this douchey silence act any longer. It’s not me, and I don’t think it’s you either.”  

You’re silent, looking at him, professing his words.  

He holds out a hand. “I’m Jisung. Will you come to eat with me? I am worried about you.”  

Finally, you crack, holding out your own hand, a small smile on your lips.   “I’m Y/N, and I’d love to eat with you.”  

So you let him lead you to the kitchen, sitting down to watch him rifle through the cupboards, producing a pan and various ingredients.  

“What are you making exactly?” You question, eyebrows raised as you watch him turn the stove on.  

“Pancakes.” He says simply, the mixing process already unfolding in a bowl. “Chocolate chip to be exact.”  

You nod, watching him as he mixes the batter together.  

“So, Y/N. If we’re going to be friends, I guess we should start with the basics. What is your favourite colour?”  

“Blue actually,” you smile. “It’s been my favourite colour since I was young.”  

“Blue? Really.”  

You nod, smiling a little more as a memory pops into the forefront of your mind.  

“When I was really young, I painted my room blue once.” You only pause to laugh at the memory. “I snuck into my fathers shed and stole the blue paint. It was so late. I painted the walls when he got home and had gone into the study.”  

Jisung’s laughing now, the whisk rested on the bench as he props his head up under his chin.  

“Was he mad?”

You shake your head gladly, smile wide.   “He found me at 1am. But he rolled up his sleeves and helped me paint all the places I couldn’t reach, which honestly was like the top half of the walls.”  

“You’re dad sounds awesome.” He notes, pushing himself up. “I wish mine would’ve let me do mine red.”  

You laugh. “Red?”  

He nods, smiling. “Red is awesome! It’s fast. Just like the cheetah!”  

You can’t but help at laugh at his enthusiastic response, keenly watching as the pancakes are whipped together and placed in a neat stack on a plate in front of you.  

“Wow,” you sigh, eyes closing at the first bite of the delicious pancakes. “These are actually amazing.”  

“They’re world-famous.” Jisung holds his fork out at you. “And the only thing I can make well without burning the house down.”  

“Why do I believe that?” You say, laughing at his half offended expression.  

Catching up on everything you’d missed with Han Jisung, is much like catching up with an old friend.  

Empty snack bowls add to the relaxed atmosphere, lazy laughs hanging in the air. A measly 1:08am adds to the light as the TV plays a random movie in the dead of the morning.  

Yawning, you curl further into yourself, eyes lazy set on the movie ahead, the couch next to you dipping as Jisung does the same.  

It's nice, the relaxed atmosphere between you two.   There is no need to walk on eggshells around him now.  

A soft fabric touches your arms, its warm surface making your eyes track from the TV to see the source of its warmth.  

Jisung gives you a tired smile, the blanket dropping from his hands over you.  

“You looked cold.” His voice is barely above a whisper, smile small yet sincere.  

“Thank you.” You whisper in return, heart loud in your ears.  

You let a few awkward moments pass, daring to side-eye the boy when the room dips into darkness.  

His eyes meet yours in a smile, two crescent moons shining in the dark.  

“What?” You say, relieved the dark can hide the heavy blush on your cheeks.  

“Nothing.” He replies, blinking simply.  

You sit up a little, brushing hair behind your ears.   “Is there something in my hair? On my face?”  

His smile turns a little smug now.   “Only beauty.”  

You’re not sure what to do, choosing to hit is shoulder while yelling some form of opposition, and hide your face in your hands.

“No! Don’t hide that pretty face of yours!”  

You splutter at his words again, willing yourself to compose.  

“Its late Jisung, we should probably head off to bed.”  

Nodding in agreement, the television is quickly switched off, the both of you trudging into the direction of your rooms, two bodies in the darkness, black outlines against the horizon.  

“Hey,” you interrupt the silence upon getting to your door, finally looking up to make eye contact with the boy who also pauses with you. “Thank you for today. It’s nice not to feel so alone in this whole thing.”  

“Likewise Y/N,” he smiles. “Its been really nice."

You two just stand there for a moment, the seconds passing so slowly it could be an eternity.  

“I guess we should stay goodnight then." “Ah, yeah.”  

You fidget with the knob of your door, rather nervous.  

“Its been nice getting to know you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even more now. Goodnight, beautiful.”  

Your heart flutters at the mere sound of the word, hands covering your face almost as a fight or flight reflex.  

“Goodnight Y/N.”   “Goodnight Jisung.” You manage, aware of his laugh at your state, watching as he disappears into his room through your fingers.

The door gives out as you push it, body falling into the warm embraces of your blankets.

You could almost feel your heartbeat bounding off the walls.

No, there was no way. Han Jisung was making you fall in love with him, and you’re just letting him.  

[geekmedium]

Jack Kirby’s Jimmy Olsen

So I just got through reading the first omnibus in Jack Kirby’s Fourth World saga. I’m gonna try to make my way through every last one in order to see what the big deal is and analyze why they have such imaginative power while other Jack Kirby creations like the Eternals went down the memory hole.

And honestly this isn’t an auspicious way to start. I had wondered for a while why Jimmy Olsen isn’t really recommended in the New Gods Saga and now I know why. It’s barely a New Gods book. The only connections to the New Gods are:

Mokkari and Simyan as the recurring antagonists

Morgan Edge working for Darkseid (which isn’t resolved in this book)

Lightray appearing for a scene

Clark spending an issue in New Genesis

A few references to the Forever People

Not exactly the best intro to the War of the New Gods. In fact I would describe this book more as New Gods clean up. It spends more time dealing with threats that are the spillover of war rather than confronting the war directly.

The real through line of these tales is “The Project.” A genetics facility that would later be known as Project Cadmus.

Mokkari and Simyan create threats based on Cadmus tech. Superman and Jimmy deal with the monsters of a Cadmus scientist. We meet the D.N.Alien Dubbilex who investigates a secret passage to Cadmus. Heck the entire story starts with Jimmy investigating a wildness group that uses technology left over from Cadmus. If you’re someone who likes Project Cadmus then this is a highly recommended collection for you.

I think the biggest revelation was that Superman was a partner and firm advocate for the Project. Literally every piece of superhero media I’ve watched portrayed Project Cadmus as morally dubious at best, so it’s kind of surreal that Kirby intended them to be good guys. Especially since a lot of stuff they do in this book is still morally dubious. They create human clones (seemingly without permission) and employ mad scientists. Some of their soldiers are children or teens and they seem really intent on keeping all this literal life changing tech undercover. It’s kind of wild that Kirby framed all of this in the narrative as morally good without questioning it at all. Then again, wasn’t eugenics a well thought of science back in the day? I figured it died out in the 50s or so, but maybe a lot of people still agreed with it in the early 70s.

Anyway, the real reason why I think Project Cadmus is the focal point is that it allowed Kirby to work where he shines brightest. Big ideas.

Someone once described Jack Kirby as a hundred ideas per square inch, and it’s hard to disagree when reading through this. Small planets, D.N.Aliens, the Habitat, Zoomway, and the solar phone are just some of the inventions that fill the pages of this collection and I purposely left out the stuff connected with New Gods like the Boom Tube. But more than just making cool technology, Jack gave Superman cool threats.

It can be hard coming up with challenges for any incarnation of the Man of Steel, and I have to imagine the Bronze Age one was one of the hardest. But reading through these I’m amazed with how rarely I felt the threat was below Superman. And I think that comes down to the fact that rarely was Kirby trying to write a cosmic wrestling match. His solution to problems had a more cerebral element to them, and required Superman to get creative or even occasionally play for a more peaceful resolution. I think my favorite was when he saved Cadmus from a collection of atomic energy eaters in like 10 seconds.

In fact, Kirby wrote an absolutely fantastic Superman. Strong, clever, mature, creative, kind, and badass. I said it can be hard to write for Superman, and I think a lot of comic writers think that decreasing him makes him work better, but Kirby knew that all you really have to do is make the threats bigger. And this cosmic war of gods, with Earth as just a casualty in the way, is about as big as you can get. And as a result, the Superman that emerges here is all the stronger for facing these threats as they come one by one while also trying to help start a whole new branch of science that these monsters threaten or distort. While this isn’t much of a New Gods book, I consider it a bit of a hidden classic for Bronze Age Superman stories.

But what about the titular character of Jimmy Olsen? Well honestly, he really ends up playing a side character in his own book. And I’m fine with that, because I think Jimmy only really works as a spotlight character once every couple dozen of issues, but if you are reading these stories for him, you’ll probably be disappointed. It’s not that he has nothing to do, but when your book has New Gods and Superman and genetic warfare and interdimensional schemes of every shape and size, you’re just gonna have to play second or even third billing. To be fair, no other main player in the Superman mythos can really tag along either. Lois is nowhere to be seen, I think Perry White only shows up once, and while Morgan Edge is a small antagonists, he really only acts as an orchestrator instead of a major player. They are all gone to make room for the Newsboy Legion.

And man do the Newsboy Legion just barge into the story. Sometimes literally.

Kirby seemed to really want to make them a thing again like when he wrote them in the 40s. It kind of reminds me of how J.M. DeMatteis tried to put Vermin in a lot of his stories. And just like with Vermin, they really end up over staying their welcome.

They were fine in the first two or three issues, but around the time the Outsiders (no not those Outsiders, a different one) exit the story, the NL should have left too. They could return for a story or two, but no more. Instead Kirby makes sure they appear in every single story in this omnibus, including ones where they aren’t really needed. Oh no! Jimmy has been ambushed and Clark has been sent off to Apokolips with no way to return. Quick, let’s go see what hijinks the Newsboy Legion are getting up to. Like, I don’t hate them, and giving Superman super wacky kids who support him in his adventures isn’t a setup I’m adverse to, since that’s basically what Jimmy was for the Silver/Bronze Age. But man, the 70s slang and rapscallion attitude you see in the panel above is only a little of what shows up, and it gets really grating after a while.

On top of that were some other weird cast choices. I actually really like the Golden Guardian’s setup as a genetically made man with memories implanted with those of a dead man. I really looked forward to him relearning his past life while making a new one in Metropolis as much needed backup for Superman. But he honestly ends up as just a kind of Captain America clone

He also ends up just dropping out of the story later on. Not even leaving, it’s just that one scene he is with Superman exploring the city and the next Superman is off exploring a secret tunnel with Dubbilex and not-Lois character Terry Dean.

And speaking of Terry Dean I find it just hilarious that she is in this panel. Superman and the others are exploring secret entrances and contemplating literal apocalyptic war, and she’s just kind of...there. For those who don’t know or care, according to my research she is a character who showed up once before Kirby came on the Jimmy title, twice after he left it, and then one more time eighteen years later as a deep cut in Superman vol 2. #46.

If I seem to be nitpicking, it’s just that it’s so weird Kirby would go for this character instead of bringing in Lois. And he includes another weird character named Goody Rickels for like two or three issues for a story arc I’m gonna have to reread just to understand what the point of it was.

Still, ignoring these flaws, the Jack Kirby’s Jimmy Olsen Omnibus is a recommend if for nothing else than the fact that it is a good set of Superman stories with incredibly inventive and creative plots that hint at a larger world on the horizon. And I honestly can’t wait to tackle that new world of New Gods.

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Two

With the odd little redhead sorted, James sends him off to get them coffee and pastries. It’s a ploy, and a blatant one at that. But M’Baku has never been one to turn down the opportunity to go to Bag End Bakery. 

The place was a wonderland of sights and smells, the big glass case in the center of the room dominating the space and drawing the eye. Inside, there were gold cut outs laid in neat rows, doilies on top of them to display whatever delicacies that Bilbo has come up with. 

And the smell. God, don’t get him started about the smell of the place. It was like walking past the gates of Heaven itself and taking a whiff. Sugar and cinnamon hung lightly in the air and still found the way to tickle your nose and stick to your tongue. The smell of freshly roasted coffee was a strong noted counterpart. It made you want to sit down and stay awhile. 

Then again, the place could have legos all over the floor and the most uncomfortable, flimsy metal chairs and M’Baku would still want to stay. 

Love made fools of us all. 

He steps inside, ducking a little so he doesn’t knock his forehead against the bell hanging there, and breathes in deep. Yes, this was as close to Heaven as he was going to get. As evidenced by the angel behind the show case who was smiling at him as he wiped the flour from his hands and onto his apron. 

“Hello.” Bilbo has a lovely, smooth voice. Like heavy cream. He steps up to the counter, and M’Baku can see the way he’s fighting the smile at his lips. Fools of us all, indeed. “What can I get for you today?”

M’Baku didn’t have a regular order. There were too many delicious looking delicacies in that case to settle for any one of them, no matter how delicious they were. Now his coffee? That was the same every single time. An easy order, too. A medium roast, with cream and two sugars. Though sometimes the holidays got the best of him and he’d order something with pumpkin or peppermint. 

But at the moment, M’Baku wasn’t thinking about his coffee order (or James’. Sorry, brother.) or even the wide array of sweets laid out under bright lights that were calling to his grumbling stomach. No, M’Baku was thinking about a book he’d picked up in the store last night when they were cleaning up. 

It had been left out on the edge of the shelf, one of the pages inside dog eared. The dust jacket had been lost since before they had ownership of it, as evidenced by the price sticker right against the cover of the book. 3.99. Not exactly a best seller. 

They got a few loiterers, but neither M’Baku nor James had ever gotten the urge to run anyone off. Hell, they had two overstuffed leather chairs that were kept in front of the big frosted glass front window of the shop. The lighting was fantastic there. So long as people left their coffees from Bilbo’s on the table or the windowsill, they could sit and read for as long as they wanted. 

But this book had caught M’Baku’s eye. Because the person reading it hadn’t made themselves comfortable in a chair in the sunshine. They’d stayed behind a book shelf to read. Clandestine. What sort of fantastic smut had they found in a bargain bin book on a back shelf?

So he did exactly what his mystery reader did. M’Baku stood right there in the aisle and went to the dog eared page to see what all the fuss was about. But what he found wasn’t old white woman smut, or even the strange kind of bondage that seemed to be all the literary rage these days. 

No, M’Baku found a story in the throes of love and passion, a woman drawing her husband’s bored eyes to her again by bringing him into the kitchen. With an array of fresh fruit and melted chocolate. 

He must have read the line about the woman watching her husband bite into a luscious, white chocolate covered strawberry a dozen times. And then he slipped a fiver into the cash register and put the book into his bag to take home. 

What can I get for you today? M’Baku blinks back to the present and away from the thought of sweet fruit juce spilling on a willing tongue. “Well.” His laughter is a quiet thing, and a sheepish thing. James would be doubled over with laughter if he knew what M’Baku was about to do. Like the kind of laughter that would make your stomach muscles hurt for a few hours afterwards. 

James could laugh all he wanted. M’Baku was a man on a mission. 

The little redhead was what switched this thought from fantasy to reality. If she could walk into their shop, see a picture of John Luther on the wall and decide she wanted him enough to make a deal, then M’Baku could take a walk down their little cobble stone street to his friend’s bakery and make a play for what he wanted. 

“Do you work with chocolate much?” That’s probably a stupid question. And the confused smile Bilbo gives him just confirms it. There are drizzles of chocolate across a few of the pastries in the case, right at M’Baku’s eye level. This was off to a great start. 

“When I have the time.” It takes M’Baku a second to realize that Bilbo isn’t laughing at him. He’s laughing at himself. (It helped, knowing he wasn’t the only nervous one here.) “I’m no chocolatier by any stretch of the imagination, but I do like to try new things.”

Well. A man couldn’t get a better opening than that, now could he? “Could you show me how to dip fruit in chocolate?” He’s very particular about how he asks. Because M’Baku doesn’t just want to buy chocolate dipped fruit from Bilbo. He wants to be a part of the process. 

Bilbo looks at him for a long moment, thinking it over. M’Baku watches in pleased surprise as he puts the ‘back in an hour’ sign on top of the glass case and gestures him behind the counter with a crooked finger. “We can put a little something together. It won’t be especially, fancy but you’ll get the gist of it.”

“That’s all I need.” M’Baku steps behind the counter, and follows Bilbo over to the sink, standing shoulder to...top of the head next to Bilbo as they wash their hands beneath the warm torrent of water, bubbles swirling around the basin of the sink before they slip down into the drain. He forgets sometimes, how small Bilbo actually is. There was something about being on the other side of the counter that made him seem larger. Like his authority was some kind of a step stool.

“Right.” Bilbo claps his hands together with a quick burst of sound, looking down at the ingredients laid out on the counter top between them. There were two metal bowls, a pot, a cutting board with chocolate and a massive knife sitting on top of it, and then a green plastic basket of strawberries. “The first thing we need to do is to chop the chocolate. It doesn’t need to be nice or neat, but we want the pieces relatively the same size. If some are bigger than the others, they’ll take longer to melt and we can risk scalding the chocolate on the bottom.”

M’Baku looks from Bilbo, to the massive knife and back again. “And you want me to do that?” That huff of breath that might just be a laugh feels like a victory. Bilbo nudges him out of the way with an elbow against the ribs and starts chopping the chocolate with his knife, as easy as breathing. 

There was a grace to the way that he moved, like it was ingrained in him. Bilbo rocks the knife against the well worn and scoured cutting board, the chocolate coming apart in crisp snaps beneath the motion. And in what feels like a matter of seconds, there’s a neat mountain of chocolate debris. Bilbo gathers it up onto the flat side of his knife, letting it rain down into the first metal bowl. “Now.” For a man who didn’t want to be in charge of anyone, Bilbo was very good at it. “Have you ever heard of using a double boiler?”

M’Baku hums. “Bowl over boiling water?” He holds his hands, one stacked on top of the other. He’s watched a Youtube cooking show or two in his time. Even if he’s never put any of it to practice. They were soothing to watch when you wanted to sleep. Especially the Japanese ones with their subtitles and their tiny cakes that always looked like something other than cake.

Bilbo’s smile is quick, and bright. “Right. It helps us control the temperature so we melt our chocolate evenly.” The pot is filled with water from the sink and put onto the big range above the row of ovens. Bilbo waits, checking his watch before he looks to water for the roiling bubbles of a boil. “Alright, bring the chocolate.”

M’Baku puts the bowl on top of the pot of boiling water, and takes the whisk that is handed to him. “You want to wisk gently, but constantly.” Pale fingers curl over M’Baku’s hold on the whisk, and his heart leaps right up into his throat. When Bilbo pulls away, M’Baku is careful to keep the same slow, easy strokes in a circle around the bowl. 

And though it gives him something to do with his hands, it does little to stop the running commentary of his thoughts, like a hamster in a wheel. Bilbo’s hands were softer than expected. M’Baku had assumed they would be callused and dry, after all the hard work he put in every day, and dealing with things fresh out of the oven. But his hands were soft. It made the touch between them, no matter how short, feel that much more intimate.

“Coconut oil. The not so secret ingredient.” Bilbo’s voice is playfully low as he spoons a big blob of white into the mixture, the darkness of the chocolate becoming a richer, warmer color as they coalesce together into something whole. “It helps the chocolate set against the fruit. And it gives it a nice shine.”

M’Baku raises the whisk from the mixture, watching the chocolate fall in silken ribbons back into the bowl. It was almost hypnotic to watch, slithering back down to become one with the rest of the chocolate still in the bowl.

“Now. We’re not on an especially quick time frame with the chocolate, but we do need to move before it begins to set. Though if it gets too hard, we can warm it again on the double boiler. That’s why we keep it simmering while we work.” Bilbo lifts the first strawberry, holding the green strem between his thumb and forefinger. Gracefully, he dips it into the chocolate and gives it two swift turns, cutting off the tail of chocolate that dribbles from the tip. 

The strawberry is placed on the piece of parchment that Bilbo laid out on a cooking sheet. “You make that look easy.” And sure enough, when M’Baku lifts his strawberry from the gooey bowl, two twists leaves him with nothing but a lumpy, lopsided strawberry. When he lays it beside Bilbo’s, all M’Baku can do is laugh. “Definitely harder than it looks.” 

“That’s alright. You just need a little more practice, that’s all.” Bilbo’s smile is warm, and private. It feels like something that belongs to M’Baku and M’Baku alone. And if their fingers touch when Bilbo hands him the next strawberry, well...who’s to say?

M’Baku dips the next strawberry into the chocolate.

“I could get used to this.” 

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

In Chains (Chapter Four) Rusty Chains (Trafalgar Law)

Samira rocked her rounded hips to a foreign tune as she waited for the timer to activate on the dryer. It wasn’t hard work, despite her broken arm, but the quantity of dirty clothing made her head spin in doubt. She had never seen a pile so immense, and yet accustomed to the simple mechanics of the machine – Shachi taught her the effective way to use it – the pile never came to be done.

A curse, she alleged. The clothes had to be. How else were they amassing? Samira panted and brushed her lengthy white hair over her shoulder. It was sticky and musty beneath the engine room. Take away the music and she was confident that sooner or later she’d lose her mind.

In regards, Samira pressed the button to replay the piece once it ended. She resumed her dancing as the notes poured from the opening of the shark eye. Remarkable, this device was. Samira had never seen one before; Shachi called it a tone dial, a moon shaped shell decorated with russet bands that recorded sound and replayed it back. He revealed to her – when she asked – that a member of his crew bought the foreign dial at a merchant stall. It came preset with the tune, but could be recorded over if ever they found a piece better suited to their tastes. She hoped not; she honestly liked this tune. It lured her to dance.

The timer on the dryer went off with a loud buzz, and Samira returned to her work. She fished out the toasty polyester boiler suits and dumped them into a large rolling cart, then put in another soggy batch from the washer. Swaying over to the amassing pile on the floor, she gathered as much as her arms could tote, intending to wash another load, but a noise caught her attention.

Samira turned towards the stairs and saw Ikkaku there, watching her with a canny smile.

“Oh! I wasn’t aware you were standing there.” Samira laughed softly and filled the washer. She played off her shock incredibly well; her heart was honestly pounding.

Ikkaku ambled over and leaned against the machine. “Sorry for that, but I didn’t want to interrupt. You dance extremely well.”

“That … oh, that was just me swaying from side to side. There’s an entire dance that goes along with it,” she explained.

Samira was not timid when it came to music and dance. Her mother taught her plenty about the world; traditions and lore. Her favorite was learning the various styles of dance – she’d perform them in front of the people of her homestead. The one Ikkaku caught her doing was invented by her country.

“An entire dance, huh? Ya got to show me some time,” said woman chirped.

Samira agreed and leaned against the machine next to Ikkaku. She got along fine with said woman; they shared an honest sized room, and with the brief time given, they became quick friends. Samira didn’t reveal much about herself, other than her dislike of the crew’s uniforms, but Ikkaku didn’t share much with her either. She wanted to know how such an amiable woman came to be a pirate, but like herself, thought that whatever reason she had was her own business.

“Are these clothes cursed? They seem to be growing.”

Ikkaku gave her a look of shock, then laughed. “Almost seems that way, doesn’t it? But, no. Some of the crew in the engine room go through uniforms quicker than the others, so they dump them into the chute and they amass down here. Shachi did ya real dirty, making ya do this chore; though it’s better than others.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him when I see him again,” Samira huffed.

She would honestly like to see that; fortunately, she would. “We’re expected to reach the next island soon; a place called the Crocus Sea. Ask nicely and the Captain may let you come with us.”

“I’m certain he will,” Samira said darkly.

Law swore to hand her over to the authorities upon reaching the island. She knew nothing about him, but she assumed he was true to his word. Her heart filled with dread. Was there no way to sway his decision? Perhaps ask him to let her go. Samira hadn’t seen Law, or heard from him since he dispatched her from his care; her arm was evidently fine enough for him not to worry about.

“About how long do you suppose it will take to reach the island?”

Ikkaku hummed in thought. “Not sure, but trust me, you will know it when we get there.”

“Mester (mister) Trafalgar stays mostly in his room, correct? I need to speak with him about something.”

She wittingly smiled. “Remember to be nice.”

Samira agreed with a brief nod and hurried up the stairs. The engine room was vacant as she ambled down the narrow walkway, a rattling web of various metal devices at both her sides, but the air was still hot and sticky. She felt a significant difference as she excited the room and moved up a second flight of stairs. This set opened up into the crew bunks, the exact area she needed to be in. Law had a room at the end of the hall – thank the gods that Shachi gave her a tour, at least of the bottom levels.

The same hatch door Samira involuntarily spent time behind came into view. She stood in front of it for a moment, hesitant to knock, but the eager part of her, wanting to get this over with, brought down her fist in a series of gentle knocks. She waited patiently for Law to allow her in, then did so as he directed.

Law was seated at his desk, combing through a thick book; its title she couldn’t read. His eyes hardly lifted from its pages, but she knew that he was paying attention.

It surprised her even less that Law already knew why she was visiting him.

“Worried about my intentions with you?”

Samira sighed. “At first, of course, but I know that your plans for me have not changed. I came to ask for your permission to join the crew when they go onto the island.”

“Do you take me for an idiot?”

She grunted and shook her head. “I assumed that you’d come along, and I … will stay by your side the entire time.”

“That is something we can agree on. You can join us,” Law affirmed. He sat the book down on the desk top and grinned. “But under one condition.”

Samira narrowed her eyes. He agreed promptly; too promptly in her opinion. It crossed her mind that maybe he wanted her to ask, but Samira wasn’t for sure. She was concerned, but agreed nonetheless.

“The island we’re heading to is mostly uncharted. Its magnetic waves aren’t strong enough to record with a Log Pose, so on our way across the Grand Line, we paid it no mind. I have reason to believe that something of interest to me is on that island, but I also believe the island to be dangerous, therefore if you intend to tag along, I demand that you wear a suit,” he explained.

She pouted in defeat. “I should get ready then. Mutasakkir ‘awi (thank you very much).”

Samira dismissed herself, averse to the whole idea – mostly because of the bounty; partially because she strongly disliked the boiler suits. In any case, she needed to speak with Ikkaku before they surfaced.

--

“Told ya so,” Ikkaku hollered.

Despite her raising her voice over the alarm, Samira could not hear her. It howled across the sub like a monkey for a few minutes, then all at once ended. A sonorous voice replaced it, notifying the crew that the Polar Tang was surfacing. Samira removed her hands from her ears and gave Ikkaku an eager look.

“Can we go up now?”

She laughed. “Aye. The sub will resurface by the time we reach the upper level.”

Samira lurched forward with the first step – the leather boots she was given were heavy and hard to move around in – but steadied herself as she followed the teasing woman from their bunk. She witnessed a small number of the crew scurry from their shared rooms; some heading towards the engine room, and some heading up to the next level. Samira took the stairs and closely walked behind Ikkaku as she led the way. She had been on the upper level a few times with Shachi; its where the crew ate breakfast and dinner, an extensive galley with a fridge and well stocked pantry were also on this level.

There was even a large hatch double door that Samira was curious about. She never asked Shachi where it led, but she had an idea. It was wide open as she and Ikkaku made it to the top of the stairs; rays of warm and natural light leaked in. She smiled in excitement. They were at last outside.

Samira walked out onto the deck and took a deep breath. The fresh air was marvelous; it was thick and humid, but superb compared to the stale air inside the sub.

“Nice, don’t ya think?”

She agreed with Ikkaku and leaned back her head to glance up at the evening sky. The length of hair braided over her shoulder fell down her back as she did so. “Feels like forever since I’ve seen the sky. I don’t know how any of you can tolerate that muggy submarine for long periods of time.”

“You get used to it after so long,” Ikkaku mentioned. She looked around and sighed in disappointment. Her crewmates were fast at work, expecting one another to contribute. “I should help out, but explore if you want to. I don’t think the Captain will mind as long as you stay within his line of sight.”

Samira thanked her and walked over to the side of the sub. A black wrought iron railing kept her from tumbling into the swampy water below, yet she was careful not to lean over it as she peered down at the frame of the sub. Her eyes widened in shock. It was larger than she thought; a dynamic yellow craft that barely cracked the surface. She spotted the emblem on the far-left side, the same smiling face Law wore printed on his hoodie; the same emblem printed on her uniform. It bothered her that she couldn’t remember where she had seen it before. It was so unusual.

“What’s on your mind, Amunet-ya?”

She lurched in fear, then gave Law a glare. “Don’t sneak up on me. You about made me fall over.”

“I doubt that,” he stated. “But had you fallen in; you would have surely drowned.”

Samira pouted. “Some doctor you are. Wouldn’t even save me if I were to fall in.”

“Does that mean you can’t swim?”

She thought about it for a moment. No. She supposed that she never learned. “My country doesn’t have a lot of rivers or lakes, and the few it does have, well … it’s not safe to swim in them.”

Law rested against the railing in thought. That didn’t tell him much. Suppose he did toss her overboard. Would she sink, or swim? He was well aware of her wondering eyes on him.

“You’re staring,” he told her.

Samira felt her cheeks heat up. “I don’t mean to, but I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything but a hoodie since I’ve been aboard your sub.”

He was dressed in a sea foam colored jacket with yellow linked bands over an open vest with a hood and a light gray shirt. Samira caught a glimpse of ink peeking out from the neck of his crew cut, but opted not to comment about it; most people had tattoos.  

“We’re venturing into a tropical moist forest, Amunet-ya. My choice of attire is not really your concern,” he retorted.

She agreed. “It’s not. I was making an observation is all.”

“Then you’re aware that your arms are supposed to go into the sleeves of the boiler suit?”

Samira rolled her eyes. Yeah, she knew. There was nothing wrong with tying them around her waist. She was wearing the damned thing, wasn’t she? Plus, she wore a loose-fitting shirt with bell sleeves to protect her arms.

“I can’t fit my cast through the armholes.”

Law grinned in enjoyment. “Then don’t cry to me when you get eat up by insects.”

“Tozz fiik (screw you),” she hissed.

He snorted. “Speak in a language that I can understand, Amunet-ya. I’d hate to exclude you from the party before you ever left the sub.”

“Aye, Meister (mister) Trafalgar,” she retorted with a pout.

She peered over the railing again. The sub appeared to be drifting down a wide bending river with an abundance of plant life on each side.

“Where is this river taking us?”

Law thought about keeping this information from her – she was all in all a visitor aboard his sub – but decided to keep her informed because she was going with them.

“The sub is moving to the other side of the island, but the plan is for us to disembark before then. Our helmsman will steer out to sea and watch for my signal to circle around and pick us back up,” Law explained slowly. “I told you earlier that the Log Pose can’t read the magnetic waves of the Crocus Sea because they’re too low, however on the island is different. The magnetic waves are exponentially higher.”

Samira understood to an extent. She knew a bit about navigating, forced to travel the sea on her own for some time. Once on an island, the Log Pose would reset. The given time in which this took varied.

“How long do you think it will take for the Log Pose to reset?”

Law was frank. “I don’t know enough about the island to answer that. You will need to be ready when I give the signal; we don’t intend to stop.”

“What’s the signal?”

She grunted in annoyance as he walked away, leaving her alone with unanswered questions. Samira mouthed a curse at him and continued her survey of the ship. At this time the crew had the sails lowered; two masts on the front and back levels of the deck showed the extent of the billowing wind. She watched them for a minute until her name was called; Shachi waved at her from the front deck, but remembering how dirty he did her, Samira playfully turned up her nose and ignored him. She didn’t catch his reaction, but she heard Ikkaku laugh as she stood beside her.

“Serves him right,” she chirped happily. “Keep this up, and he’ll be reduced to a blathering mess by the end of the day.”

Samira lifted her hand to her mouth and laughed. “He absolutely deserves it, but I hope he doesn’t take this too seriously.”

“He’ll be fine … come on; the party is meeting up top.” Ikkaku took her hand and led her back through the double hatch doors and back into the sub.

At the other end of the galley was a set of identical doors that opened up onto the upper deck. A small group of four were stationed there. Shachi and Penguin were among them – the latter she met shortly after Law released her from his care – including the doctor himself and a white bear wearing an orange boiler suit; it carried a large sword over its shoulder.

“Is the bear real?”

Samira was in awe. She had never seen a beast so cute in her entire life.

“As real as you and me, and he talks. His name is Bepo. You haven’t yet met him, because he mostly stays in the control room. He’s our navigator,” Ikkaku explained.

She quietly squealed and rocked her hips from side to side.

“He’ll be thrilled to hear that you aren’t scared of him,” the pirate mentioned with a smile. “He tends to get depressed easily, so if you speak to him, remember that.”

Samira frowned. Why ever would she be scared of him? Her country was filled with frightening beasts and terrible people. She doubted that Bepo was anything like them.

“Get ready to go ashore,” Law called out, breaking her thoughts.

She witnessed him walk over to the railing near the back of the deck and bounce something tiny and spherical in his hand. Samira looked to the horizon and noticed a small ship anchored near the bank. It was clearly a pirate ship. No one seemed to be on it though. Had it been abandoned? She barely had time to think before she was swallowed by a clear blue dome. Seconds later, she was staring at the Polar Tang as it sailed on by.

What just happened? Samira took an unsteady step and franticly glanced around. She and the others were on the deck of the abandoned pirate ship. But how?

“You okay, Samira?”

Said woman lurched forward in shock and gave Ikkaku a bemused look. “We were just on the sub. How did we get here?”

“Our captain has Devil Fruit powers,” she easily explained.

Devil Fruit powers?

“I don’t know what that means,” Samira replied. She had never heard of such a thing. Did Law really move them from one area to another with this power?

Ikkaku hummed in thought. “I don’t know too much about them myself, but some people even claim the eater of a Devil Fruit is cursed until death. The Captain would know more about it though.”

“Cursed … like me,” she uttered.

She and Law had more in common then she originally thought. Her eyes moved to said man as he spoke privately with Shachi and Bepo. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt connected to him somehow. Like heavy rusted chains were wrapped around them.

--

Bepo curled up his nose in disgust. The smell was too strong to ignore. He easily located the source as soon as his captain moved them onto the ship.

“It’s the same, isn’t it?”

Shachi knew he didn’t have to ask. It looked the same, a dart attached to a base that was shaped like the head of a frog. But what was it doing here? Lodged in the mast. And where was the crew? Penguin was still searching the insides of the ship as Law ordered as a precaution.

“Can you track the scent, Bepo? We need to find the crew,” Law directed.

Said bear whined in protest. “I can, but it stinks horribly.”

“Your nose will save us some time,” Shachi mentioned, nearly shoving the dart into his face. “So, suck it up buttercup and get to tracking.”

Bepo crooked his head and apologized. He coughed as the bitter smell invaded his nose. The scent went further into the forest.

“Northeast; that’s the strongest and most recent trail.”

Law sighed. He was hoping to find them closer to their ship. His eyes moved across the deck to Samira; she appeared distracted, staring at him in thought.

A grin curved his lips.

Soon Amunet-ya. Real soon.

[geminis-twisted-mind]

Esme Blake stared at the screen, unable to process what she was reading. It was an email, with the subject line: Mandatory Self Defence Training: Kidnapping.

She read each line slowly, and then read the whole thing again. Finally, when no clarity seemed to be forthcoming, she drafted a message to Cheryl, the HR leader, who just happened to be an old friend from her graduating class.

Hi Cheryl,

This is a joke, right?! Ha ha, tease the new girl. No one actually does THIS?

E.

Cheryl’s response arrived back with an aggressive ping.

Hi E,

No joke. Everyone on the international team does it. Company wants to be sure you know how to handle yourself if you get nicked while negotiating with one of our foreign buyers.

You wanted the promotion, this is part of it.

C.

‘Get nicked’? Was that anyway for a senior team member to talk, even if they were friends? Esme typed back, still not convinced.

I never wanted to do anything dangerous! I just wanted some nice parties with diplomats, maybe some cute waiters with sexy accents. You don’t really think I'll get kidnapped?!

E.

The response came back in seconds, suggesting Cheryl had been waiting.

Of course not. It’s never happened. But you should be prepared in cased it does. So stop complaining and book the course for this Friday.

That was it. The end of the discussion. Another ping told her that Cheryl wasn’t quite done.

And E, try not to enjoy it too much!

Bitch.

Esme held back her wounded pride and set about reading the 15-page disclaimer on the website. The word consent was used a lot, specifically regarding how the role-play was designed to simulate a real-life experience, and therefore would be run to completion no matter what, except for a medical emergency. By signing up, Esme was declaring that she knew what she was getting into and was OK with it.

Esme entered her details, including the billing which went straight to the company, and moved on to the permissions page. She was immediately alarmed when she saw what she was being asked to give permission for, starting with where she wanted to be abducted from.

Seriously, what the f*** kind of question is that? she thought as she read through the list.

Kidnapped from office would be far too embarrassing, with all her colleagues around to watch. Home-invasion was out, in case her wife tried to play the heroine and got herself hurt. That left the street, which made her very nervous but was the only acceptable answer.

Esme moved on to what they called the ‘core experience’. Her stomach did flips as she read through the list, a perverted menu of head-bagging, body-tying, car-boot-riding, handcuffs, blindfolds, and gags. The word ‘kinky’ wasn't used, but she sensed it was never far from the edges of the conversation.

At the bottom of the page was a section called ‘interrogation’. Esme felt her chest tighten just reading it. A warning in red marked it as recommended only for people with some prior experience. Esme realised with a sickening start that some people must do this more than once.

Half of the choices sounded like things she would expect to find in German dungeon porn, featuring blond, top-heavy maidens strapped helplessly to tables being horribly abused by leather-wearing sadists. Coming in at just under 5ft nothing, with a modest frame, short brown hair, and a cute face all but hidden behind a pair of glasses, Esme had a hard time picturing herself in the role of the helpless maiden.

Esme took a deep breath and carefully made her selections. in particular, she unchecked anything that sounded like it would hurt. She would let them take her and hold her until the ‘ransom’ was paid, a minimum of 2 hours. Otherwise she expected to be treated, if not nicely, then at least gently. Surreptitiously located next to the button for ‘confirm’ was another button that said ‘select all’, which she avoided.

“What’s that, Esme?” The voice came so suddenly that Esme had to grab the edge of her desk to keep from falling straight out of her chair.

It was Thomas. Stupidly-attractive Thomas. Always-flirting-but-only-in-that-nice-way Thomas. But worst of all, gossiped-like-an-American-hen-on-steroids Thomas. If he saw what she was looking at, it would be all over the office in nanoseconds.

She hit ‘confirm' in a blind panic and closed the browser.

.....

Friday came with all the speed and determination of a snail that had decided this was the week it was going to practice the art of moonwalking.

She left the office wearing her least-favourite skirt, her cheapest white Primark brand top, and a pair of comfortable shoes. After all, if she was going to be abducted, she was damned if she was going to do it in heels. She had deliberately not had anything to drink for two hours: the last thing she wanted was to have to ask her kidnappers for permission to use the loo.

She skipped the tube she normally took home and walked on as instructed, to a quieter place where there was less likely to be any witnesses. Then she activated the app that told them where she was, to make sure they got the right person.

The thought of someone watching her movements made her extremely nervous. Every dusk-born shadow seemed larger and scarier. If anyone had asked her for the time she might have punched them in the face on reflex.

She never even heard the silent electric vehicle drive up behind her. It wasn’t until two men leapt out and threw a black (and mercifully clean) bag over her head that she realised she was ‘nicked’.

.....

The memory of the journey was a blur. She had been in the boot, she knew that much. But it had been roomier than she had expected and, given that the max speed for inner-city London was about 5 miles per hour, it hadn’t been a bumpy ride. Her arms had been cuffed behind her back, so she had rested on her side to stop the metal cutting into her wrists.

She found she could breathe surprisingly well through the bag, even as they pulled up, opened the boot, and lifted her out. It was shocking having several pairs of hands grabbing her at the same time, but they were – polite – about where they touched her. She absently wondered if real kidnappers would be so considerate. Somehow she doubted it.

She was lowered into a solid metal chair, the kind of minimalist contraption used by chip shops with airs. The lower back portion was missing by design, which gave her cuffed hands somewhere to rest. She wondered if she was expected to participate, maybe get up and try to run away, but the addition of a cable tie holding her ankles together settled that debate.

There was darkness, and voices, but no one talked to her. The bag was pulled away just as a massive light burst to life and filled her field of vision, blinding her. She gasped and blinked, and then cried out as a cloth gag was forced roughly into her mouth.

“Hey! Be gentle!” she tried to say, but it came out as a frustrated “hmph! hmmph hmfmph”.

“We’ve got a live one,” said a man’s voice. It was perfectly intoned English, but with a light European accent. He could have been anywhere in the room – Esme couldn't see anything.

She was slightly surprised to hear a woman with a similar accent respond. “She should be, given this order. It says she’s down for the full package.”

But then, why couldn’t women be kidnappers? Was she a bad feminist for assuming her abductors would be male? Wait what?!

“No that’s not right! I don't want the full package, I don't even want the box! Just leave me here for two hours until my office ‘rescues’ me.” That's how it sounded in her head. The gagged version was a series of indecipherable grunts and hmphs.

Her mind looked around and did the equivalent of a teenager realising he actually can’t jump clean over that pointy fire hydrant.

Two words: ‘select all’.

Thomas, when I get out of this, I am going to MURDER you.

Esme had never seen the confirmation. All the correspondence had gone to the billing address, the office, to Cheryl. And that two-timing wench never said a damn thing.

Esme’s eyes adjusted to the bright light, enough that she could make out the shadowy forms of her two captors standing behind it.

Please, she thought desperately, don't hurt me...

.....

Esme was lifted out of the chair by two pairs of strong hands, one on each arm. Her ankles were still bound together, giving her all the dignity of a fish flopping on a hook. There was the rattle of keys and the cuffs came loose, but as soon as her hands were free they were pulled abover her head and recuffed, this time in leather. At first she could stand comfortably on her own feet, but a loud noise and a horrible pulling sensation later and she found herself practically hanging from the ceiling!

Oh god, no, this can’t be happening! This isn’t me, I don’t do things like this! Please take off the gag and I can explain this is all a misunderstanding!

“Hmmmph” on repeat is all she managed to say.

The woman walked between Esme and the light. She was dressed in a black pantsuit and obligatory stilletto heels. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She had sharp, beautiful features and piercing eyes. The only thing missing was a riding crop in her hands.

“Now, Ms Blake. We are going to ask you some questions about the people you work for, and I understand you may not want to answer out of loyalty. That won’t last. We have six hours to make you talk, and I promise, you will talk.

Six hours?! I only agreed to two! I’ll talk, I’ll tell you everything, starting with where that bitch Cheryl lives!

The man moved up beside her. Like the woman, he was extremely handsome. In fact, he looked so much like her they could have been siblings. He was wearing a pair of army-issue kakis and a vest. In his hand was a knife as long as Esme’s arm from elbow to wrist. Esme’s eyes widened and she began to struggle against the cuffs, causing her body to shake in the air.

“Hold her still!” said the man, not loudly but with a clear authorative voice. It was so compelling that Esme nearly stopped moving to obey him herself. More hands grabbed her and she was stuck in position, with the strength of their arms taking some of the weight off her wrists. She followed the man with the knife as he walked around her, straining her neck until he was out of sight.

She screamed as he tore through her blouse, exposing her back but leaving her chest covered as the top hung from the sleeves. She hadn’t been ready to be treated this way in front of so many people. The woman came up and held Esme’s chin in her hand.

“There there,” she said, almost whispering. “It won’t be all bad. My brother is very good at what he does.”

A sudden weight landed against her back, with just a hint of sting, announcing the fact that she was being flogged! She gasped and tried to catch her breath even as another hit landed. The weight of the leather assulted her back again and again, never really stinging nor hard enough to be truely punishing, but making her skin raw with every slap. She didn’t know how long he hit her for, the rythmic pulsing of it pushing her against the bondage that held her. After the initial shock of it, she found it was almost relaxing.

Endorphines mixed with the adrenaline of fear in her brain, creating an unexpected cocktail that clouded her mind and muddled her thoughts. It took her by surprise when the woman took her by the chin again.

“Don’t think this is all you’re getting.” The woman was holding a whip now, a cruel looking thing that was twisted and folded from one thick end which served as a handle, to a thin tapered end that finished in a point. Esme looked at her pleadingly and shook her head.

The flogging had stopped. Now the man walked into Esme’s view and the woman disappeared behind her. His vest was gone and there was sweat across the muscles of his chest and arms. He looked for all the world like a professional body builder. He leaned close to her and for a moment Esme felt her heart beat a bit harder for a reason that had nothing to do with her predicament.

Then the whipping started.

The first crack was like pinch on her back being delivered at the speed of sound. Esme’s head arched backwards and she screamed into the gag. Another hit swiftly followed the first, but the shock of it wasn’t there, and she found she could handle the sharp, stinging pain a bit better.

The man was watching her, she realised. Even as the whip landed again and again, his eyes never left hers. She focused on those eyes and the pain of the whip was somehow dulled. He moved closer and held up a hand and she leaned her head towards it, brushing it with her cheek, then jumped back as the whip cracked even more painfully across her sensitive skin.

Her breathing was hard and fast, but under control. Her back was on fire from the whipping, but her heart wasn’t beating out of her chest anymore. And those eyes, watching her like she was the only thing that mattered, made her want to take more just so he could see her do it. Then maybe she would get to feel his hand again...

Oh my god... it’s not possible... I can’t be.... I’m not actually... enjoying this?

The chain was lowered until she was able to sit on the ground. The man disappeared as the woman circled in front of her. She had the same eyes, the ones that saw everything. She leaned in close, as though she meant to whisper to Esme as a lover might, as the man untied the gag from behind Esme’s head.

“Are you ready to talk?” as the woman. The hint of accent make the words sound delicious, like something out of a bad spy movie. “We have five hours left to change your mind if you refuse to cooperate.”

Esme looked up at her captor, at her fierce face, and felt her own determination rising. Maybe she hadn’t meant to get herself into this mess, but now that she was here, she was going to own it.

“I’m not telling you anything.”

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 19 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 19 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Chapter 5: Strangers at the Gathering

The night before the Gathering was due to begin officially, two strange, large ships came up and hove to, about a half mile off from the anchorage.  They had arrived during the dark of the moons, and none had noted their coming.  With the dawn, none could miss the strangers.  

One was a monster by any definition.  All visible parts of the ship were jet-black.  It was pretty long, but several ships in the Naral fleet were longer.  What made it so big was that it had two three hundred foot hulls, with rakish shearwater bows.  The hulls were spanned from bows to sterns by a large flat expanse, perhaps two or three decks thick.  It was hard to tell at this distance.  There was a raised navigation bridge about forty feet back from the bows.  For masts it had three pairs of poles that were fastened together at the tops by spacious platforms and possibly a hundred feet tall.  They formed ‘A’ frames that spanned the ship from side to side.  There were no visible spars and the rigging, though present, seemed sparse.

Its companion was about two hundred and eighty feet long, also with twin hulls, but there, any similarity stopped.  Its hulls were unequal in size, the smaller one being fully eighty feet shorter.  Both hulls were narrow, almost knife like, and it had three masts, off the center-line of the craft, closer to the larger hull.  They seemed far too short.

Small boats were sailing in from the big ships.  They were twin hulled as well.

“Those ships are weird, and those little boats are weirder, too.  Never seen anything like ‘em,” said a sailor to anybody.  

Juris, the Longin’s Master Boat-builder, replied, “Catamarans they’re called.  They’ve been played with from time to time.  Fast aren’t they?  Never heard of making one as a ship, before, let alone two.”

By this time, the two boats were tying up at the floats.  Master Juris noted, without saying anything, that they were tied up with quick release knots.  Each crew formed a shield around one person from their boat.  

From the unequal hulled ship this person was a man of medium height, apparently the Captain.  He wore his black hair complexly braided. He had a loose shirt, tied at the waist by tails made for the purpose and snug trousers tucked into wide topped soft boots.  His crew wore variations on the theme.

From the larger ship, the individual was a woman whose red-brown hair was worn tied back in a fall.  She wore a loose shirt, similar to the other man’s but with a belt of large polished black overlapping scales, each decorated with an inlaid medallion of polished shell. Supported by the belt were a  flattish kit and a large but empty knife scabbard at her left hip and a long empty scabbard of strange design at her right.  Her loose pants bloused down and tucked into the tops of snug, calf high boots made of glittering green Lesser Sea Dragon hide.  A document case of tanned Strong Skin leather under her left arm, the lady simply reached up to one of the bollards the climbing net was secured to and pulled herself up to deck level with her right arm.  None of her crew seemed to notice her feat as they swarmed up the net.

The woman spoke to the gawkers in an accent full of lilting overtones, “Where do we find the ones in authority here?  We wish to present our credentials.”  Some of the people tore their eyes away from the visitor’s outlandish garb and pointed out the Council Pavilion.

Kurin, who was among the curious watchers, turned to Master Juris and said in surprise, “She must be as strong as Cat was.  Did you see how she just reached up to the raft rim and pulled herself up one handed until she could sit on the edge?”

“Yes,” he replied.  “She had that package of documents in her left hand. It was like she never even gave it a second thought.”

Roper said, “I noticed that all of the others used both hands to get up onto the raft.”  He paused and added untactfully, “I thought that Captains were supposed to be picked for brains.”

“Maybe she was,” Kurin shot back.  “Not everyone who’s strong is stupid.”

“You’re right,” replied Roper, abashed.  “Cat was strong and smart.”

Their men standing guard outside, the two Captains, for such they were, went inside the Council Pavilion.  Captain Sarfin of the Dorton, was seated at a writing table working on the agenda of the Council.  He was the leader of the Council again this Gathering.  He looked up and smiled.

“If you come in peace, then welcome to the Spring Gathering of the Naral fleet.”

Relief flooded the features of the two.  The woman spoke first again.  “I am Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon, Commander of the Winternight ship Dark Dragon, come from and representing the Corlis fleet.  We do seek permission to conduct some business, but mainly, we are seeking information.”  She handed her document package to Sarfin, who examined it with interest, and made notes in his ledger.  

“I Captain Huld Barsan Soaring Bird of the Barant fleet am,” said the man, speaking clearly but with odd construction.  “Also information seeking I am.  Opportunity to trade welcome is.”

Catpain Sarfin noted, “I see that your one set of documents is for both ships.  That is unusual.”

Sula smiled easily and said, “The Barant fleet is unusual, and the Honored Huld is even more so.  The Barant fleet does not set much store on written credentials.  The existence of a ship is license enough.  From the day that we met, we have been what the Barant fleet call ‘Dragon Bonded.’  Mutual obligations have made our lives inseparable, save by fate.  Because of our Dragon Bond, the Corlis fleet issued those credentials.”

“Very sensible,” laughed Sarfin.  “Sometime, when I am not so busy, I would like to hear your tale.  For now, I will have the Anchorage Master assign your ships to berths close by each other.  Permission to trade goes with that.  There is a fee of five hundred glue blocks or fifty Strong Skins, or an equal value in other trade goods.  Also, you must sign the Gathering’s Log Book.”  He proffered a book, opened to a page, and a feather pen.  Sula took the pen and examined it, then handed it back.

She produced a writing case from her sash-belt and took out a  fine tipped brush and a pen made of springy bone.  She inked  the brush first and wrote a neat vertical line of strange characters.  Then she dipped her pen into the case’s ink well and began writing, neatly, without any blot.

She filled in her ship’s, name, principal officers and nature of her business.  At the top of the next page, Huld applied two stamps from his writing kit, selected a brush and signed his ship’s name after one stamp and his own name after the other in unusual characters that Captain Sarfin recognized as written Barant.  He put back the brush and took a pen like Sula’s to fill out the rest of the information in Common.

“If there should be a problem in making payment,” said Sarfin, examining the entries with interest, “I am sure that I can get the Council to reduce or waive the fee.  After all, you have come half-way around the world to be here.”

Sula smiled, “I think that there will be no problem with payment.  The Dark Dragon is a dedicated Predator Hunter.  We take Wing Ray, Strong Skin, Moon Flats, Lesser Dragons and Hags.  We also take all of the usual fish.”

“I help may need.  Cargo luxury is, nor valued yet.”

“Honored One, I shall cover it for you, until the market values your goods,” said Sula pressing her hands together and making a small bow.

“That is settled, then,” said Sarfin.  “Now, what information is it that has brought you both so far?”

“We are trying to find the truth of rumors that there was a Great Sea Dragon — Some say Iren and some Mecat — that stayed with a ship of a fleet.  So far, all that we have found are rumors.  Truly, we are about to give up.  We have traveled half around Sea with nothing to show for the trip but some exotic trade goods.”

Grinning broadly, Sarfin said, “Oh, the Dragons are real enough.  I saw them myself.  However, your best information will come from the crew of the Longin, particularly, their Purser, Alor, their Captain Mord, and especially the young girl Kurin, who keeps a toy booth in the market portion of the rafts.”

Sula and Huld looked at each other in delight.  

“We have found them!”

“Here Dragon knowledge!” their voices crossed each other.

Huld added thoughtfully, “Meditate I must on this event when to the Soaring Bird return I.”

“Yes,” Sula added matter-of-factly. “Will you request that one of your Captains carry word to the Corlis fleet when you do?”  With a curious small bow to her, Huld replied, “Done it shall be.”

Returning her attention to Captain Sarfin, Sula asked, “Does your custom or law allow my crew to carry their personal sidearms?  We normally carry both a large combat knife and a small ax.”  She indicated her empty scabbards.  “I will guarantee that any of my crew who come the Gathering hooded will not be armed.  That will limit their response to any attempt at baring their faces to unarmed combat.”

Captain Sarfin regarded Sula carefully and said, “Why would they fight over something like that?”

As Captain Sula, showing the first trace of nervousness that Captain Sarfin had seen in her, replied, “Winternight regards such an assault as worse than rape.  If the hooded Winternighters are armed, the odds are good that they will kill the assailant before they have time to think.  To be honest, I am not fully comfortable without my hood and I adopted onto the Dark Dragon at the start of the first Boren Current War.”

Captain Sarfin thought carefully and replied, “It is legal for your people to be armed because such an issue has never come up before.  Let your crew know that our law and custom will require a non-lethal and preferably non-injurious response.”

Sula smiled again and bobbed her head.  “I can do that.  It is the same in our host, the Corlis fleet.”

The far away rattle of a tocsin drum and the exotic, never before heard in the Naral fleet, calls of a bugle or trumpet caused everyone on the rafts or on shipboard to drop what they were doing and watch. Eight large pulling boats came out from between the bows of each ship and picked up cables dropped from bollards at the prows.  The big strangers began to move slowly toward their berths on the north side of the anchorage.  The drum and horn fell silent except for occasional tiny course corrections.

A spectator on the raft, close to Master Juris said, “They’re so slow that I could have walked that distance, up and down the deck, by now.”

“I’m sure that you could have,” Master Juris smiled.  “But pulling two thousand tons might slow you down just a mite.  That’s some fine piloting that you’re seeing.  They aren’t letting the load get away from them.  The real test will come in just a bit, when they pull up to the anchorage floats.”

Kurin joined them.  “Sorry that I’m late, but I knew the ships had to be slow and I had some toy customers.”

“What did you sell?” asked the spectator idly.

“One of my loom kits and a rope winder,” said Kurin.

Master Juris turned from watching the ships at that last.  “You mean that those things that you made at the suggestion of the fleet’s Craft Council last Gathering are already selling?  They’re expensive.”

“They are,” she said, putting her head in her hands in mock frustration. “The Masters are coming to see if I’ve made what they asked me to, back last Gathering.  The way they look the toys over is driving me as crazy as a mating paddle duck.  They can’t seem to put anything back the way it was.  The only consolation is that they return with other people and get them to buy.”

Just then drum and horn sounded, and all else was put aside to see what the strangers would do next.  It was unorthodox.  The pulling boats, that could now be seen to have a dozen oars each, darted back, between the hulls of each of the two monsters, under the massive decks that bridged them.  You could see the lines draw tight as the boats applied all the power at their command to stop the ships.  They slowed gradually and stopped — — — exactly at the floats.  One boat came out from under each ship, and attached its cable to the float.  A second, light line was cast down from above and tied to the end of the cable.  Each boat disappeared back between the hulls of the mother ship and did not emerge.

“Neatly done,” said Master Juris, ruffling Kurin’s hair.  “These folk are good seamen, whatever else they may be.”

Kurin and Master Juris were not the only ones to watch the strangers come to moorage.

“Luve, Somet’ing’s bot’ering ye.  Ye keep lookin’ at t’ose twa new ships,” Tanlin said softly to Barad.  Two of the Grandalor’s deck-hands were following her attentively.

“Aye,” said Barad urgently, knowing that they would be overheard.  “You have been reading in my bookshelf to familiarize yourself with our way of writing.  Think.  What ships do they remind you of?  They always worked as a pair.”

Tanlin bit a knuckle lightly as she concentrated.  “ — But t’e Boren Current Wars were ‘alf t’e world away an Gat'erin’s agone! — Still, t’ose masts are unique.  T’ay ‘as t’ be t’e Dark Dragon an’ t’e Soaring Bird!  Yer books say t’at t’ey ‘ave sunk more t’an t’irty ships in t’ose wars.  W’at are t’ey doin’ ‘ere, Oi wonder?”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[recentanimenews]

Sympathy for the Devilman: The Legacy of Go Nagai's Magnum Opus

I've always had a thing for villains. Unlike my brothers, as a kid I'd always choose the "bad guy" action figures. If they went for the ninja turtle Leonardo, then I'd go for the uber-buff Super Shredder. I personally identified with villainy because of how it connected to the idea of "evil." I personally see evil as a generalized concept that expresses antagonism toward violent and dominant societal structures. Due to a coercive religious upbringing, I now see how my younger self unconsciously found ideologically-oppositional comfort in "evil" art. This eventually led me to one of my most cherished pieces of fiction: Devilman.

Devilman has left an indelible mark on manga and anime creators over the last few decades, inspiring major industry heavyweights such as Hideaki Anno, Kentaro Miura, and Kazuki Nakashima. The series was created by Go Nagai, a manga auteur also responsible for Mazinger Z, Cutie Honey, and Violence Jack (which is a Devilman sequel). Although Devilman retains much of the explicitness native to Go Nagai's usual fare, it uses these graphic elements uniquely to deliver a haunting, unforgettable, and compassionate message.

Let's explore the surprisingly relevant political and social significance of Devilman, along with a few of its animated offshoots. Read on but be forewarned, this article contains major spoilers!

  Devilman (original manga, 1972) 

via Seven Seas Entertainment

  The Devilman manga is a dark antiwar narrative in deep contrast to the standard monster-of-the-day, "evil fights evil" set-up of the anime (which ran at the same time as the manga). Ryo Asuka — who turns out to be Satan, the leader of all demons — helps convince the world that anyone dissatisfied with the status quo could turn into a demon and needs to be killed. Every nation starts a war with each other, and Japan creates the "Demon Busters" to murder anyone suspected of being a demon. This plot twist is the most explicitly political angle in Devilman and a clear critique against the genocide of marginalized peoples. One page features a taste of the global hate brewing around the world: a collective white desire to murder Black communities, the renewal of German anti-Semitism, and hatred for any protestor. There are also many moments that display the horrors of historical genocide when Akira and Ryo travel through time.

Devilman builds additional nuance around this theme with Ryo's character. In the manga's final scene, Ryo describes how demons were once oppressed by God, and that they in turn preyed upon humans in the same way that God preyed upon demons. Ryo recognizes that he continued the same cycle of genocidal hate and marginalization he once suffered. This is a striking moment that functions as a cautionary warning against abusing imbalanced power dynamics, and how even once marginalized groups are still capable of enacting horrors against those with less power. 

via Seven Seas Entertainment

  Ryo's character also made a groundbreaking stride in the representation of marginalized gender and sexual identities. His true form as Satan is easy to interpret as trans, possessing emotional, mental, and physical traits that defy the standard gender binary. The manga also makes it clear that Ryo considers Akira more than a friend, and is actually in love with him. Amazingly, Go Nagai does not use Ryo's trans-coded self or his queer love for Akira as fodder for insulting or disrespectful commentary from other characters. Ryo's gender-variant form is certainly mentioned, but it's never negatively framed or conflated with his murderous attitude toward humanity. Additionally, the manga never suggests Ryo is evil because of his romantic feelings for Akira (a simple, yet important distinction). It feels all the more impressive when you remember that this was made in 1972. Devilman's subversive portrayal of non-normative gender and sexual identity could still be considered groundbreaking even by today's standards.

Devilman OVAs

  The first OVA, The Birth, covers Ryo and Akira's discovery of demon existence, with a very brutal early sequence that shows the bloody survival-of-the-fittest origins of life on Earth (which beautifully expands upon and mirrors the same sequence from the manga). It concludes with a gore-soaked finale where we see Akira's fateful transformation into Devilman. The sequence is filled with face stabs, top-notch body horror, and decapitations galore as Devilman rips apart demon after demon in a nightclub setting.

  The second OVA, The Demon Bird, had the same crew that worked on the first OVA and contains a very similar feel. This OVA is more action-oriented than the first since it doesn't spend time on the build-up and exposition leading to Devilman's initial appearance. The animation and art design is probably even better than the first episode, which is most notable during the fight with Sirene. On a side note, the Manga Entertainment dubs for these first two OVAs are absolutely essential if you're seeking a fun evening with fellow anime nerds with a decent sense of humor. Their typically sleazy dubs — where Manga Entertainment excessively hyped up the seedier, more "adult" side of anime in order to market their products as wildly different from cartoons for kids — contain an assortment of unnecessary profanity and generally crude dialogue compared to the Japanese source material, to great comedic effect.

The third OVA, Amon: The Apocalypse of Devilman, is based on Amon: The Darkside of Devilman manga, an alternate-universe offshoot by Yu Kinutani. This OVA contains a reworked version of the end of Devilman and has a much darker edge compared to the first two OVAs. This entry in the series has an ugly, grim quality to it – such as the horrific depiction of Miki and her brother getting slaughtered by an angry mob — that initially felt off-putting to me. I started to enjoy it more on subsequent viewings however, when I remembered that, well, the entire Devilman mythos is pretty damned bleak in general. I think the desolate mood would have been more bearable had Akira felt like the compassionate, tragic hero of the manga.

Actually, overall I'd say that Akira's portrayal is one of my biggest complaints about these OVAs. He displays a cold lack of care for human life — like in the Demon Bird when he unconcernedly tears through an airplane while fighting Sirene and allows its passengers to presumably plummet to their deaths — that for me, offsets one of the biggest strengths of Devilman's core: that although Akira has the body of a demon, he never loses the tender heart of a human. With that in mind, let's explore Devilman Crybaby. 

  Devilman Crybaby

Devilman Crybaby is my favorite animated incarnation of Devilman, period. I might be in the minority with that opinion, but I think there's a lot to love. Masaaki Yuasa is already one of my favorite recent anime directors — Kaiba, Mind Game, and Lu Over the Wall are highlights  — so it's no surprise I'd be head over heels for his take on a classic Go Nagai story.

Yuasa impressively shifts the '70s setting of the original into modern-day Japan: The group of surly highschoolers from the manga are replaced with rappers and smartphones are everywhere. In the hands of a lesser writer, a modern setting would be no more than a cosmetic, surface-level change of scenery to an already-written narrative. In contrast, Yuasa avoids this trap by using the modern setting to make incisive social commentary relevant to our times: social media is the means for both horrendous and beautiful moments in the show. It leads to Miki's murder when she posts on Instagram to defend Akira, but also serves as the online catalyst that unites Devilmen across the globe (in contrast to the original manga, where a set of demon-possessed psychic monks unite the Devilmen). Yuasa explained this in a 2018 Japan Times article:

"Today's situation is a lot closer to 'Devilman' than it was when Nagai wrote it in the '70s," he says. "The popularity of social media means people are a lot more connected, for good and bad – like someone getting shot over a video game. We learn about unarmed black people being killed by police, people being tortured and the rise of nationalism in politics. In Japan, too, where a lot of problems are openly blamed on foreigners.

"But it can also help spread good that we wouldn't otherwise know about. We see people coming out as gay or trans on social media, and there's a greater opening up and acceptance of different opinions and lifestyles."

  Another beautiful aspect of the show is how Yuasa amplifies the queer elements present in the manga. Ryo and Akira's relationship feels even more loaded with romantic undertones, and Yuasa also introduces two queer characters unseen in the original manga. One of the characters is named Miki Kuroda, initially portrayed as a jealous antagonistic foil to the Miki we all know and love. Miki Kuroda changes as the episodes progress and she becomes a Devilman, and we eventually see her sacrifice herself in an attempt to save Miki Makimura, who she confesses her love to before dying. It's refreshing to see a queer woman represented in a story that previously had none, and incorporated in a way that feels organic and thoughtfully integrated within the larger narrative.

  In contrast to the Akira of the OVAs, I absolutely adore this incarnation. Yuasa did a stellar job showing not only Akira's horny goth-jock side but also his compassionate traits. As the name implies, there's a lot of crying in Devilman Crybaby, and Akira is responsible for at least half the tears throughout the brief 10-episode series. Akira evokes such intense compassion and cares for people around him, which is a noticeable deviation from his cold demeanor in the OVAs. The human heart at the core of Devilman is on full display here, taking the emotional elements from the original and turning the volume up to 11. Though the art style and setting might be drastically different from what you'd typically expect of a Devilman remake, Yuasa did a masterful job honoring the source material while injecting it with fresh life and even fresher modern resonance. 

What other aspects of Devilman  — or its many incarnations  — did you find important or interesting? Let me know in the comments below!

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By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 6/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Astrid arrives, Belle gets a tour of the house, and spends some more time with Bae.

Notes: Ugh this chapter sucks, I'm sorry. It didn't go where I wanted it to. For the 31 Days prompt #4: dress. t.

[AO3]

Previous: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Astrid arrived the next day, just before afternoon tea.

Belle momentarily forgot what had been troubling her in the midst of her delight at seeing her maid and friend again. It felt as if part of the world had righted itself for a while, and she busied herself helping Astrid get settled in a room on the east wing. Ms. Potts seemed equally pleased by the new arrival, and wasted no time in showing Astrid around the house, including the kitchen and back stairs the servants used to slip in and out of where they were needed.

Astrid, for her part, was a nervous wreck, nearly knocking over a vase on the way passed the music room, and slipping on the steps down to the root cellar. Belle couldn’t stop smiling as she finally got a full tour of Thornhill, though she doubted she’d be able to remember her way from the gallery to the formal dining room any time soon. The library, however, was already permanently etched in her mind.

The sound she made when Ms. Potts opened the double doors made Astrid giggle, and Ms. Potts looked over her shoulder knowingly.

“This is the main library,” she explained to Astrid, marching across the room to open a row of curtains and let in some light.

The walls of the library were floor to ceiling shelves with ladders set on rails as was the custom in most estates and manors, but these were larger and wider than Belle had seen before. They seemed more like a full set of stairs than a ladder, and she caught herself imagining how easy it would be to climb all the way up and fetch the books on the highest levels. The windows Ms. Potts revealed looked out onto the side yard where a large willow tree loomed over a pond. The windows themselves were wide and set in a semi-circle which created large ledge that was covered with cushions.

Belle’s eyes went wide and she immediately went over to it and brushed her hands over the plush, soft pillows. It was the perfect place to sit and read when it was too cold or wet to be outside in the garden.

“You said this was the main library?” Astrid asked. “Are there...others?”

“There’s a small book room upstairs near Lady Belle’s chambers,” Ms. Potts replied, fussing with the candles on the fireplace mantle because they weren’t lined up properly. “It used to be a bedroom, but m’Lord had the shelves added shortly before m’Lady arrived.”

Belle startled a bit at that and felt her face flush. Somehow knowing that Gold had put the shelves in so close to their wedding made her think that he had done it specifically for her, and she wondered how he knew she liked to read so much. Had he spoken with her father or one of her acquaintances? He had seemed curious about her reading habits when they’d run into each other in the library at Avonlea, but not entirely surprised. The thought that he’d done it because she might like it, because it would make her feel more at home, only made his behavior yesterday more confusing. Someone who would be that thoughtful towards a woman he had never met before the moment they married, couldn’t possibly be the same person who would yell at a friend so harshly.

Astrid grinned at Belle. “Your own book room?”

She shook of her thoughts and nodded to Astrid. “I haven’t begun to fill it yet. All the books I brought with me are in my bedroom.”

“I doubt that’ll ever change,” Astrid said playfully. “But one of the trunks I brought with me is full of even more books.”

Belle squealed in pleasure and pulled Astrid into a hug, twirling her around on the rug in the middle of the room. Ms. Potts rolled her eyes, but she was smiling all the same as she lead them out of the room.

Belle left Astrid to unpack her things, and retreated to her bedroom.

Two trunks had been delivered while she was traipsing around Thornhill, following Ms. Potts. The smaller of the two was the one Astrid spoke of, and was filled with four stacks of books from the library at Avonlea. She sorted through them briefly, and saw that Astrid had brought most of her favorites as well as a few mythology and history books. Though the library here seemed more than well stocked, she wondered if Bae might like to use them in his lessons or perhaps read through them with her. She liked the stories about the old gods, about the magic that they say used to bind the world together and the creatures that time had forgotten.

The second trunk was more of her clothes, but as she laid her things out on her bed, she began to frown. She hadn’t purchased new things in a while, not since she learned of the financial troubles her father was in, and as a result a lot of her dresses and skirts had started to tatter and fade. The colors weren’t as bold as they once were and the hems were tinged from dragging through the dirt and grass as she walked the gardens. She was a bit afraid to ask, but she thought perhaps Gold would allow her to buy a few new things soon. The solstice was coming and if they were going to attend any celebrations or have one of their own, a new gown would be in order. She remembered his letter mentioning that Bae’s birthday was just before that as well.

Perhaps there would be other occasions as well, there was a ballroom downstairs after all, and a large formal dining room. It had been ages since she’d been at an event or a ball. The last was Ariel’s wedding, and that was nearly two years ago now. She couldn’t picture Gold as the type to want to socialize, but then again he was often at the king’s court, or so she had heard. It would be something to broach with him later, after she’d settled her mind a bit more.

It was at least an hour until supper, so Belle decided to try out the desk in the lounge across the hall from her bedroom and write her father a letter. He would want to know that she was alright, that she was safe and settled, and that Astrid had arrived as well. The light from the southwest facing windows was wonderful at this time of day, and she found herself feeling a bit more content as she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and uncapped the inkwell.

The light scrape of the pen was soothing as was the familiar motions of her hand as she wrote out Papa in large, scrolling letters are the top. She paused and smiled, pleased to recall that Bae had called Gold the same thing when he’d come into the drawing room during breakfast. It was a small thing, but still something they had in common, that made her feel just a little bit of a connection to the boy.

She wrote that she was well, that Astrid was well, and that they were both getting settled. She told him of the lovely gardens and urged him not to worry, that she would write more soon. Her hand paused on its way to dip the pen again, and she worried her bottom lip. Instinct told her to add that she would come to visit, but she didn’t know for sure that she would.

Leaving Avonlea had seemed so final that the thought of going back left her uncertain. If she did would she ever want to leave again? Would it be harder the second time? What about the third or fourth? Would Gold want to come with her? Sighing, she quickly added her name at the bottom with the perfunctory ‘your loving daughter’ closing. There would be time to discuss visiting Avonlea later.

Just as Belle was folding the letter to seal, there was a knock against the open door. She turned and saw Bae standing there, a book in his hand, and smiled.

“Hello there.”

He stepped into the room cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure he was invited.

“It’s okay, you can come in,” she said, slipping the letter into the drawer of the desk. “If I wanted to keep people out, I would shut the door.”

He gave her a small smile and came closer. “I thought maybe you’d want to read another chapter with me? Jefferson says I should try to finish it by the end of the week because Grace is already done.”

He huffed a little at the end, and Belle thought he seemed a little sad. “Grace?”

“Jefferson’s daughter,” Bae explained, shuffling over to the small sofa. “He gives us both lessons, but she’s smarter than I am and always getting ahead of me.”

“I’d be happy to read some more with you,” Belle said, moving to join him on the lounge. “And don’t worry about being slower than someone else. Everyone goes at their own pace. What matters is that you take your time and learn.”

Bae seemed to think on that for a moment, and then nodded as he opened the book.

Gold limped down the corridor, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual.

His leg was killing him today, as it often did after too much travel. Though his carriage was fairly large, sitting in one place for too long and not moving made the muscles tight, and it would take another day or so of hot baths and Jefferson’s special tea to get back to normal. The sound of laughter made him smile in spite of his aches, and he moved towards it.

The door to Belle’s drawing room was open, and he knocked on the door frame as he stepped into the space. Bae was sitting at the writing desk and Belle was bent over him, watching whatever it was that he was doing. She looked up, smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, and with the glow of the setting sun beaming in through the windows at her back, it looked like she was light itself, pushing into all the dark corners.

“You didn’t tell me you were the father of a master artist,” she said. Bae glanced up at her, his smile soft and crooked.

Gold came over to the desk and looked down from the other side. Bae had drawn the head of a horse in the middle of the page in black ink, presumably from Belle’s pen. It was quite good for a ten year old, with the mane flowing out behind it as if the beast was in a full gallop.

“It’s supposed to be my horse, Cassidy,” the boy explained. “But the nose isn’t right.”

He frowned, and Belle tsked. “It looks just fine to me.”

“Indeed,” agreed Gold, exchanging a small look with Belle over his son’s head. “I think it looks just like him.”

Bae didn’t seem convinced and shrugged. “It’s not, but thanks.” He moved to crumple up the paper, but Belle stopped him.

“Oh, please don’t do that, it’s lovely!” She slid the paper off the desk and held it in her fingertips. “Would you allow me to keep it? There’s a couple of empty books in my little library, we could start a portfolio.”

Bae scrunched up his face. “What’s a port - portfolio?”

“It’s what all good artists keep their work in so they can show other people.”

He seemed very pleased with that and smiled. “Sure! Can I help you put it in?”

She put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “Of course. Come it’s just across the hall.”

Gold felt the same feeling as he had the night before as he watched them walk together to Belle’s book room. Seeing them getting along and even bonding was more than he could have hoped for so soon. Bae hadn’t been very accepting of his plans to marry, and he’d been afraid that the inevitable strife of the early days might harm their future relationship. Of course, he shouldn’t have worried. Belle was a dear, sweet woman that one couldn’t help but find charming. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was alarmingly pretty, especially when she was so close that he could see the little flecks of gold in the center of her eyes.

He swallowed and straightened, rather abruptly, and tightened his fingers around the handle of his cane as the sudden shifting of his weight made his calf cramp.

Belle turned, frowning. “Are you alright?”

Gold forced a tight smile and nodded. “Yes, I was just, uh, just going to get something in my room.”

He made to leave, but stopped just outside in the hallway. “Would you, um, would you want to join us for dinner this evening?”

“Oh, I think I -”

“Yes, please, Belle?” Bae interrupted. “We could read more of my book after.”

She smiled at Bae, and then looked up to meet Gold’s eyes. Her expression was strange, and Gold got the sense that she wanted to decline, but didn’t want to hurt his son’s feelings. He mentally kicked himself, and was about to come up with an excuse to help her out of it, when she turned to Bae and smiled.

“Of course I would.”

Gold blinked and then nodded. “Yes, um, yes good. We usually eat at six.”

Belle met his gaze again, and he could see her shoulders shifting, tensing, and the bob of her throat as she swallowed. “Good.”